The Trusty Servant Nov 2016 No.122 | Page 11

N O . 1 2 2 T H E T R U S T Y S E R VA N T

Goats , goatees and gestational improbabilities

Angus Robinson , Aulae Prae 2015-16 , busts myths and wants his colon back :
The Prefect of Hall has a strange position in contemporary Wykehamical consciousness . On the one hand he is the subject of a diverse and extravagant mythology and , on the other , may not even be known by hundreds of Commoners over whom he has great notional seniority . Although the recent convention has been to treat him at least nominally as one equal half of the pupil leadership with the Sen Co Prae , any real authority is limited to that over the population of Chamber Court – although perhaps this is as much due to the Devo Max under which the School tends to operate as it is to relative anonymity .
There are six College Officers , who are each responsible for the welfare and order of their respective chambers and are together responsible for the greater community of Collegemen . Of these the Coll Cap Prae ( né , in a better time , Sen Cap Prae ) is most inconvenienced by his specific duties , given the arduous task of standing outside a door seven times a week ( on five of which occasions he must close said door ). The main individual task of his direct senior is saying the Latin graces before and after lunch ( 20 and 27 words respectively ) each day of the school year bar the week of Election , during which College Voice sings them to John Reading ’ s music .
The College Archivist informs me that there were five officers in College as early as 1647 , but the obligations have diminished from what they once were in a manner in keeping with modern practice and law . The Prefect of Hall was once actually responsible for the maintenance of the windows and furniture in College Hall , and for deciding when the fire should be lit there . A notions book also specifies the responsibility of preventing ‘ smoking and sherking out ’. Naturally , as well as losing the higher burdens , he lost
A previous incumbent enjoying a genuine privilege
the fees paid to him by scholars and commoners and there is no longer any need for the extra ration of bread and meat .
But for most of the mythic privileges associated with the role there is unfortunately very little evidence . The Aulae Prae may be carried up to books in his bed by his peers . But , alas , he has never been allowed to grow a beard or run naked up College Street . A wife would presumably not be supported by the School , while the accompanying tale that I once heard that he could have two children with her seems mathematically unlikely given the short length of incumbency . And as for the famous myth of the goat , to that I can only say that we tried . Two years ago – in typical College fashion – the Writer ( read ‘ helpful second-year ’) of the then Aulae Prae composed a five-page proposal on how College would be able to keep a goat on Meads , considering necessary taxes , licences , veterinary care and even who would feed it . The document was signed by all but one of the Collegemen and submitted to the necessary powers . Vile tyranny and dark webs of conspiracy alone can explain why the idea was never realised , but the one outcome was a stuffed goat , sporting at various ( different ) times a gas mask , a bandana and a tie , fated to live out his days in the chamber of the Aulae Prae . The legend also inspired a chant for Xs , yet to be performed , set to the tune of ‘ Jerusalem ’ and featuring ‘ the countenance hircine ’.
So the legend of the goat at least has its longevity assured . And if the significance of the Aulae Prae should disappear with the colonic abbreviation ( e . g ., Aulae Prae :) that has gone even from the pages of The Trusty Servant , at least we can hope for more colourful legends .
With thanks to Suzanne Foster . ■
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