The Shadow of Great Britain

Not knowing Latin is roughly equivalent to being a barbarian, and barbarians, naturally, are not entitled to human rights.

Moreover, education outside of the classroom often takes place in dormitories and corridors.

New students are assigned to senior students for supervision, which is the tradition of "mentorship" in public schools. Junior students are expected to obey their mentors—running errands, tidying beds, washing clothes, assisting with washing, and preparing food.

If you try to resist, the mentor will soon "correct" you. The duration and method of "correction" are indefinite, but for someone with self-respect, a beating might be considered among the lightest treatments.

You may become a Prime Minister, a Cabinet Minister, or a famous figure, but once you enter the campus of a public school, you must conform. If you seek revenge, young man, you’ll have to wait 20 years!

Arthur once heard many of these rumors of campus bullying and claimed that the poor relationship between Sir Robert Peel and Party Leader George Canning was due to the enmity formed in their early years at Eton.

Canning was six years older than Peel, so when Peel entered Eton, Canning was already a popular senior student.

Famed for his wit, eloquence, and social skills, Canning was evidently a dominant mentor at Eton, treating junior students harshly, with humor that often carried a humiliating tone. Peel, on the other hand, was the typical intellectual at Eton—excellent in academics but reserved and neither adept at nor enjoying campus socializing.

Though they never revisited past grudges publicly, if their relationship wasn’t sour, how could these two pivotal figures in the Tory Party have never collaborated since entering politics?

More inexplicable was when Canning rose to power in 1827 amidst turmoil, he openly refused to let Peel remain as Home Secretary, even though party unity was urgently needed. Peel was clear that he would not accept a position in the Canning Cabinet, and both preferred party division over compromise.

If this isn’t a personal grudge, it simply cannot be explained.

The same situation befell the current Home Secretary, Lord John Russell. Although an Eton graduate, Russell’s time at Eton was unhappy. Due to his small stature and sensitive nature, he lacked social advantages and was even nicknamed "Little Dwarf" by his mentors.

As a result, in his adulthood, Russell was remarkably cold towards fellow Etonians with aristocratic confidence and harbored a distinct aversion to authority and tradition, a decisive factor in his standing with Lord Brougham during the parliamentary reform of 1832.

Someone like Peel, outstanding academically but from a large factory owner’s family, suffered greatly in public schools. Russell, the prominent second son of the Duke of Bedford, faced significant injustices too. Eld, born into Irish nobility and vocally disrespectful, was even more so a target for mentors’ strict guidance.

According to him, at Winchester, a whistle from a mentor meant immediate appearance, and they intentionally woke you through the night before exams for errands. Afterwards, they took the opportunity to mock you and made you publicly read your embarrassing test paper.

If it weren’t for being frequently beaten by mentors at Winchester, Eld probably wouldn’t despise traditional campus life at Oxford and Cambridge so much, and definitely wouldn’t have "lowered himself" to attend the University of London, truly respecting the new life the university offered him.

Lady Dalmo was evidently frightened by Eld’s depiction of public school life, her hand holding the wine glass trembling slightly.

She had heard some bad things about public schools before, but had previously thought they were meant to help students develop a sense of order and cultivate gentlemanly manners, calm and collected.

Now, however, she realized that no bad deed was absent among public school students: fighting, gambling, drinking, and bullying were rampant, seemingly like a villain’s melting pot.

"What you said..." Lady Dalmo’s expression lost some of its casual composure: "Sounds more like a military camp, not a school."

"Madam, pardon my candidness," Eld earnestly replied: "At least a military camp wouldn’t pretend it’s nurturing poets."

Arthur almost choked on his drink upon hearing this.

Lady Dalmo, worried, said: "I thought sending a child to Eton or Harrow was just about teaching them to interact with peers early, to hone knowledge and enhance social abilities... but..."

"They can indeed learn that," Eld nodded immediately: "But only if your child doesn’t catch the attention of those little delinquents. Of course, the best way is to blend into their small group."

This time, Lady Dalmo was visibly moved.

"Darcy isn’t exactly weak, but... he’s definitely not the type of child who likes to dominate others."

Upon hearing this, Eld sighed: "So, madam, if you must let him receive so-called public school education, I would at least advise avoiding boarding schools."

Lady Dalmo was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

"Let him return home every day," Eld answered straightforwardly: "At least let him sleep in his room at night instead of waking to the footsteps of mentors. That would naturally eliminate a lot of problems."