The story of a successful town and gown project
Longer reminiscences by Old Boys
After reading Mike Brogden’s cynical reminiscences of COHS in 1952-59 I found it hard to reconcile his views with those of mine. Could this be the same school? Admittedly, I was there 1940-44 and the headmaster was J.E.Badham but could it have changed that much in ten years?
Continue reading “When did the rot set in?”In 1941, as far as I remember, fee-payers all started in 2A and scholarship boys in Remove. Why it was called Remove I do not know. I only remember being told “it is traditional” which was no answer.
Both classes numbered about 30 boys so there must have been about as many of one as the other. There was no 1A or 1B because School Cert was done to a four year programme and you had to finish up (if successful) in year 5 in the Sixth Form.
After Remove one was put into the next year’s A or B form depending on your results, no social selection, The bright ones went to the next year’s A and the others went to B. And we didn’t have cap parades, or monthly merit order to determine one’s seat in class, I think I’m glad I left before Fred Lay really got into his stride! I think there was also in 1941 a Form 5C, known as Shell.
Encouraging the debate: Lord Philip Hunt sides with Nigel Molden
(Lord) Philip Hunt (1960-67) writes:
I was very interested in Nigel Molden’s piece. Some of my experience chimes with his and I thought you might be interested in some comments.
I went to the school at the same time as Nigel (I lived in Cowley and went to Cowley St James primary school). I was in the 1b/2s etc class through to O levels. It was definitely regarded as the bottom stream. It’s an interesting commentary on the time, that science was not rated so highly as the classics/arts.
I don’t think Nigel is right that we were banished to the old Central School. In fact 1b was in the main block with Mr I Taylor as form teacher. But I do remember going there for art and TD – both of which I was completely hopeless at!! The visits to South Oxford School for wood-work bring similar dreaded memories.
I didn’t really enjoy my school experience and struggled academically until I reached Sixth Form. Nigel has no memory of the B/S people going onto the sixth form, but I was certainly not the only one. There I was very fortunate to be taught by David Walker and Colin Rummings and got really interested in history and economics. I went on to Leeds University to study politics and I am pretty sure that there were others from the B/S stream that went on to university.
It is interesting that comparatively few of the students starting out at the school did go directly into higher education. I do agree there was a lack of ambition for the students by the school. I guess most of us were the first generation in our families to go to university and the school reflected a philosophy pre the expansion of higher education which took place in the 60s.
I didn’t leave school enamoured with the grammar school system. There was a pervading sense of superiority over the secondary modern schools and inferiority to schools like MCS.
Congratulations to Mike Chew on encouraging this debate.
Tony Phelps (1933-41) writes:
“I was very pleased to receive Newsletter No 5, and it sparked a number of thoughts in my own brain. At the risk of wasting your time, I am putting some of them to you in this letter.
The School Song
Like the author of the piece on pages 7 – 9, I was puzzled by the references to the School Song in Newsletter No 4 (now explained in no 5).
In my day (1933-41) we had an official song with words by John Drinkwater, and I still have a copy of the song sheet (words and music) that was given to me when I joined the School. I attach the full text which, as I recall, we sang at the Annual Speech Day in the Town Hall. What a pity that it faded from memory.”
Mother of learning, let us be
Good scholars all in serving thee,
Good fellows too; so teach us that our enterprise
May be both merciful and wise,
In all we do.
When Tudor sat upon the throne
That manners maketh man was know
In Oxenford,
And may the Oxford names we bear
Be duly spoken ev’rywhere
For sweet accord.
And be it work, or be it play,
Let us remember ev’ry day
One golden rule –
That whoso keeps his honour bright
By sparing not his upmost might
Honours the school.
Saint Giles, Saint Clement and Saint John
Bless the beds that we lie on
And bend our bows:
City of Oxford Sons, awake.
Sing up to life, her beauty take,
And scorn her blows.
John Drinkwater & Frederic Austin
(Mike Chew’s notes: There is information about John Drinkwater in Newsletter No 5 p12. English composer Frederic Austin was brought up in Birkenhead and became a composition teacher at the Liverpool College of Music. In 1924 he was appointed Artistic Director of the British National Opera Company.)
Ed. For alternative songs see this reminiscence and this one
Don Adams (1939-45) writes:
I joined COHS in September 1939. The school premises were shared: COHS in the morning and Clement Danes in the afternoon. We were set 3 hours homework. Sizzy announced the fall of France on a trip to Whipsnade Zoo. Morley would “drill” us on the tarmac.
Honorary Sixth: was I the only incumbent? I failed OSC in 1944 with 7 credits but no English. Head Badham called me last on listings. Passed in December, left at Easter.
Note from editor Mike Chew: I remember going for some lessons to a building opposite the National Canteen by Gloucester Green. On some Saturdays we went to St Hilda’s College in Cowley Place, by the Plain.
Ron Baker (c.1949) writes:
Further to Ted Bown’s reference to “Journey’s End”, the play was produced by George Wright and performed on 2nd to 5th February 1949. The cast:
Captain Hardy: Alan Stokes
Lieutenant Osborne John Robinson
Private Mason James Higgins
L/Cpl Broughton Maurice Croxon
2nd Lt Raleigh Howard Jones
Captain Stanhope Paul Groves
2nd Lt Trotter Michael Somerlad
2nd Lt Hibbert Alan Lower
Co Sgt Major Michael Tregoning/Keith Gibbons
German Soldier Maurice Croxon
The Colonel Ron Baker
Paul Groves, who had left School in 1947 to study at RADA, took over the part at short notice after P Wharton was injured during County Rugby Trials, and Keith Gibbons took over as CSM when Michael Tregoning became ill just before curtain up on the second night.
The School Caretaker, Mr Durham, was also involved behind the scenes, one of his duties being to make the “stage whisky” with cold tea.
Eugh!
Ed. This production was written up in the school magazine here. Journey’s End is a 1928 play by R. C. Sherriff, set in Northern France towards the end of the First World War. It has often been produced, as it provides a glimpse of life in the trenches and is of a manageable size for performances by amateur societies. First performed at the Apollo Theatre in 9 December 1928, it starred a young Laurence Olivier. (Wikipedia)
Derek Jeffs (1940s), at the School during the war, reminisces in the Oxford Mail about a disastrous night when he took part in a gig with the future comedian Mike Winters:
Mike Winters, whose real name was Mike Weinstein, was one of many evacuees who had come from London to Oxford. He later teamed up with Bernie Winters.
Four boys formed a quartet – Derek was on the double bass, Peter Payne on drums, John Beesley on piano and Mike Weinstein on clarinet.
“We mostly played in private in Peter Payne’s house, but on one occasion we were asked to do a professional gig.
Unfortunately the people who were there wanted to dance, and we didn’t have any dance music. Our music wasn’t what they wanted.”
Tony Argyle (1941-46) writes (again with real ink) from Pearce, near Canberra in Australia.
Do you remember putting milk bottles or chalk dusters in the grand piano? I recall many a time when Mr Bielby had to stop in the middle of “For those in peril on the seas” to remove these various objects which made a dreadful din on the piano strings.
Who tried to set light to the “Annexe”, that overflow place at the bottom end of George Street? A belting was going to be given to the whole class in alphabetical order unless the culprit owned up. This did not appeal to A A Argyle nor my mate Brian Abrahams. However the culprit did own up and we were spared.
Remember blowing up condoms purchased from Wesley Lloyd in New Inn Hall Street? There was a door there with ”Consultations Gentlemen” on it.
Remember the harvest camps at Kelmscott near Lechlade? We had to get there on our bikes and were paid five bob a week for really hard work.
New boys used to have to “Kiss the Cross” on the old city wall before being ducked in the bogs.
I remember taking my dinner money over to Morgan’s cake shop when school dinners did not appeal.
“Spud” Taylor: Does anyone recall the following song?
Let us with a Litesome mind
Praise old Spud, for he is fine
For his jock-straps, Eh endure
Ever faithful, ever sure.
Off to Norfolk Island in the middle or the Pacific next week for some R & R after a knee replacement and a dose of DVT.
Offer of a glass or five of good Aussie wine to any old boys still stands. Trying to get my oldest mate Brian Amos to come over, but the wimp won’t fly. Have told him that it’s a b—-y sight safer than his driving.
Colin A Tustin (1951-56) writes:
“During the break between lessons schoolyard cricket was played, usually by six players (each side had a bowler and two fieldsmen.
However, because break wasn’t very long, the game would be spread over a number of lesson breaks before a result was reached!
(Ed. You might like to cross-refer this with the early piece by T E Lawrence from 1904… )
John Bolt (1937-41) writes:
“In 1941, soon after the Government established the Air Training Corps (ATC), No. 1250 (Oxford Schools) Squadron, ATC, was formed; the schools involved being the three boys’ Grammar Schools in Oxford at that time. They were the High, Southfield and St.Clement Dane’s, the latter being an evacuated London school sharing the premises and facilities of the two Oxford schools.
The Squadron’s HQ and base was at Southfield School which had more suitable classrooms for instruction on navigation, meteorology, signalling, etc., and where the forecourt was useful for parades and inspections. Some of the teachers in the schools became the Squadron officers, the High School teacher/officer being D V “Douggie” Gilbert, whose subject at school was German.
A formal Squadron photograph taken in front of Southfield School on the occasion of an official inspection c.1942 shows some 55 cadets, of whom about 15 are High School pupils. A few High School pupils were already members of the City Squadron (No. 150), having joined the Air Defence Cadet Corps which was a forerunner of the ATC, and had elected to remain in that Squadron rather than transfer to the Schools Squadron. Also in the photo, as one of the guests, is Mr Badham, the High School headmaster.
Every ATC unit was affiliated to a Royal Air Force Sation and for No. 1250 Sqn. this was RAF Kidlington. It was there that many High School pupils, myself included, had their first ever flight. In 1941 this would have been in twin-engined Airspeed Oxford trainers. Later, when pilots were being trained for the invasion of Europe, our flights were in Hotspur training gliders.
I don’t know how many boys went on to join the RAF, but certainly one High School pupil who did was Ted Beare (1937-41), who became a Sunderland flying-boat pilot but sadly was killed in North Africa.