January 1913, and Louis is back in school, leaving his father in Cambridge with a heavy lingering cold. Much of his first letter home of term, dated the 26th, describes a sermon preached by the Headmaster on the text used as the title of this post. In it he praised the lack of superstition in modern Christianity, but also lamented its lack of mystery, and the fact that 20th Century Christians were too eager to dismiss any idea which they couldn’t fully understand. Louis’ vicarage childhood meant that he often passed comment on school sermons, but those of Dr David are probably the only ones to pass universally without negative opinion. Louis also wrote “I wonder how many people get prepared for confirmation by a Rugger International?”; Mr Lockhart, who had won the boys loyalty through lavish lunches, was apparently to play for Scotland against Ireland on the 1st of February. Louis seems to have made a mistake here, as it was actually Wales against whom Lockhart played for Scotland played on that date, losing 0-8, but they did then go on to beat Ireland 29-14 on the 22nd (though Lockhart wasn’t in the team for that match).
The long runs continued as ever, with Louis coming first in the first School House run of the year, and consequently acting as ‘Hare’ in the following week’s school paperchase across the Warwickshire countryside. It is the bags of shredded paper that such boys carried to lay the trail which gave rise to the title still carried today by Rugby’s captain of cross country – ‘Holder of the Bigside Bags’. His account of the event ends with a characteristic swift and condemning analysis of the abilities of a new member of staff:
“Last Tuesday I came in 1st of all the House in our House Run. Spens was awfully bucked – and said “Well played Stokes” when he met me afterward. He was so braced that on Thursday when there was to be a paper chase he came and asked me to be a hare – and so I and two others were the hares. It was a frightful day. I only fell into one brook. We were hard put to it in the last ¼ mile – the hounds (Spens first of them) being not more than 40 yds behind. Our new form master Mr A. P. Cox is a very foolish young man. I do not approve of him at all.”
It’s entertaining to read Louis’ opinions of Rugby School institutions which still exist, not least the boarding houses. The house now known as Tudor (pictured above) was then named Stallards, after the Housemaster of the time, and Louis was shocked to hear that a family friend had signed her son up there:
“It is unfortunate that Mrs Vinter should have selected Stallards – of the Houses proper (that is not counting the Town House) it is quite honestly the worst. It really is a shocking house – a set of hooligans in it for the most sort – though one or two are nice chaps. Low in games – untidy looking, and the food!!! Words simply fail. However I suppose you will have to answer Mrs Vinter. You can say food – simple and wholesome. Life – very easy. Nice companions etc.”
It is also apparent in this letter, as in others, that Louis was particularly proud of his mother’s family’s social connections. I have yet to come across any references to his father’s family – academics and clergymen – but he quite regularly refers to the Manders. Here he is delighted that a shooting party organised by his aunt, Lady Mary Mander, has appeared in a several page spread in the Tatler – “A very sporting – though rather racy paper taken in this house”. Lady Mary was original from Nova Scotia, but had married Louis’ uncle, Sir Charles Tertius Mander, about whom Louis wrote “Uncle Charlie made a grand centrepiece” in the Tatler article. Sir Charles may be seen to the left, in his uniform as Colonel of the Staffordshire Yeomanry.
Perhaps he will eventually write about his father’s family too, however comparatively unfashionable they may have seemed to his schoolboy eyes!
Finding Louis 
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