He was placed in the lower remove of the fourth form, which was then ‘up to’ the Rev. Charles Old Goodford, i.e. that was he who taught the division so called in school.

The boy was evidently well prepared, for he was often captain of his division, and his letters frequently tell of successes of this kind, while they anticipate ‘Montem.’

That of 1838 was a brilliant one, for Queen Victoria, then only nineteen, and her first year of sovereignty not yet accomplished, came from the Castle to be driven in an open carriage to Salt Hill and bestow her Royal contribution.

In the throng little Patteson was pressed up so close to the Royal carriage that he became entangled in the wheel, and was on the point of being dragged under it, when the Queen, with ready presence of mind, held out her hand:  he grasped it, and was able to regain his feet in safety, but did not recover his perceptions enough to make any sign of gratitude before the carriage passed on.  He had all a boy’s shyness about the adventure; but perhaps it served to quicken the personal loyalty which is an unfailing characteristic of ’Eton fellows.’

The Royal custom of the Sunday afternoon parade on the terrace of Windsor Castle for the benefit of the gazing public afforded a fine opportunity for cultivating this sentiment, and Coley sends an amusingly minute description of her Majesty’s dress, evidently studied for his mother’s benefit, even to the pink tips of her four long ostrich feathers, and calling to mind Chalon’s water-colours of the Queen in her early youth.  He finishes the description with a quaint little bit of moralising.  ’It certainly is very beautiful with two bands playing on a calm, blessed Sunday evening, with the Queen of England and all her retinue walking about.  It gives you an idea of the Majesty of God, who could in one short second turn it all into confusion.  There is nothing to me more beautiful than the raising one’s eyes to Heaven, and thinking with adoration who made this scene, and who could unmake it again.’

A few days later the record is of a very different scene, namely, Windsor Fair, when the Eton boys used to imagine they had a prescriptive right to make a riot and revel in the charms of misrule.

’On the second day the Eton fellows always make an immense row.  So at the signal, when a thing was acting, the boys rushed in and pulled down the curtain, and commenced the row.  I am happy to say I was not there.  There were a great many soldiers there, and they all took our part.  The alarm was given, and the police came.  Then there was such a rush at the police.  Some of them tumbled over, and the rest were half-knocked down.  At last they took in custody three of our boys, upon which every boy that was there (amounting to about 450) was summoned.  They burst open the door, knocked down the police, and rescued our boys.  Meantime the boys kept on shying rotten eggs and crackers, and there was nothing but righting and rushing.’