EARLY HISTORY OF THE LADIES’ COLLEGE
‘Old fables are not all a lie
Which tell of wondrous birth;
Of Titan children, Father Sky,
And wondrous Mother Earth.
Earth-born, my sister, thou art still
A daughter of the sky;
Oh, climb for ever up the hill
Of thy divinity.
...
For cause and end of all thy strife,
And unrest as thou art—
Still stings thee to a higher life
The Father at thy heart.’
GEORGE MACDONALD, _To my Sister,
on her Twenty-first Birthday_.
Cambray House, which was Miss Beale’s home for fifteen years, is one of
the finest buildings erected in the period when Cheltenham was being laid
out with a view to royal visits. The Duke of Wellington himself stayed
there in 1823.
[Illustration: _Miss Dorothea Beale_
_1859._]
The garden, mentioned in the early College reports as the ‘pleasure
grounds,’ was a special delight to Miss Beale. In 1858 it was still
untouched, and had many beautiful trees; one, a standard apricot tree,
was—happy omen! covered with golden fruit in that first autumn of
her life at Cheltenham. The house itself was beginning to change its
character of family residence to that of a building adapted for school
purposes, and before very long even the rooms given up for the use of the
Principal and the Vice-Principal were encroached upon. Nor were those
rooms furnished in character with the stately outside of the house.
‘The second-hand furniture procured would not have delighted people of
æsthetic taste. Curtains were dispensed with as far as possible, and it
was questioned whether a carving-knife was required by the Principal
in her furnished apartments.’[38] To such domestic details Miss Beale
was indifferent, but it must have been less easy to practise an economy
which limited the extension of her work. ‘The teaching staff was reduced
as low as possible, and the Principal and Vice-Principal gave up their
half-holiday to chaperone those who took lessons from masters. The
Principal taught all the English subjects to Classes I. and II., besides
giving weekly lessons in Holy Scripture throughout the College.’
So long as the chief task of the Lady Principal was to prevent the
College losing further ground, so long as her time and thought outside
school hours were absorbed by anxiety over every pupil who came and went,
still more over those who failed to come, there could be no rapid process
of development. But it would have been impossible for Miss Beale to take
up an existing educational work without at once making her individual
mark upon it, and from the first the school felt the grasp of her able
hand. At Casterton she had longed at once to change, to reform. At
Cheltenham remodelling rather than revolution was her aim—fulfilment and
wise development.
To understand the way in which she gave fresh life, and gradually
refashioned the methods she found, it is necessary to go back to the
prehistoric days before her arrival in 1858. There is little record of
the educational system and teaching of that period, but it is certain
that both were liberal and thorough, free from narrowness and petty
tyranny, in advance of those existing in the ordinary boarding-school
of the day. The curriculum, it is noteworthy, was arranged with a view
to developing the mind and character. Latin was taught at first ‘very
thoroughly,’ and the change by which after the first year it was replaced
by German, which the Lady Principal could teach, was a question of
economy, not of conciliation of parents who might think dead languages
useless subjects of study. In making the substitution it was hoped,
so runs the report of 1856, that instruction in German ‘might be made
equally instrumental with that in the Latin language for conveying an
accurate, exact, and logical knowledge of the principles of general
Grammar. In this impression (your Council) find ... that they have not
been mistaken.’
This attitude with regard to German was no new idea to Miss Beale,
and she pursued the aims of the founders when she made the language a
necessary subject of study for all pupils above the lower classes. Latin
she discouraged, except in the case of those who were near the top of the
College, maintaining that girls of seventeen and eighteen could learn in
a few months as much Latin as would absorb the greater part of a boy’s
whole time at school.
On the question of music the founders had shown themselves out of
sympathy with the fashionable practice of a day when every ‘young lady’
was expected to perform on the piano, every governess to teach it. They
conceded so far as to include music in the regular curriculum, but the
expense of providing the requisite number of teachers and pianos for so
many pupils was heavy. To meet this a system of class instruction was
devised, by which the teacher gave a lesson to four pupils at once, the
same piece being performed simultaneously on the treble and bass of two
pianos. Whether such an arrangement was conducive to the production of
good music or the formation of taste may be doubted. It suggests, indeed,
a certain irony in those who hit upon a scheme that might just satisfy a
foolish popular demand, assured that any who really cared for music would
not grudge payment to the good teachers provided for the extra classes.
The music difficulty occupies some space in the early reports which,
in somewhat stilted and solemn fashion, set forth new ideals for the
education of the ‘fairer sex.’ The following is quoted from the report of
February 1856:—
‘Your Council cannot refrain from stating their belief that
as long as the singular and extraordinary notion continues
to prevail in the minds of those forming the upper classes
of English Society, that dexterity of fingering on a single
instrument is _the_ most important part of female education,
against, it might have been thought, not only the suggestions
of common sense, but the practical lessons of later life, so
long will the time required to be given for attaining even
a low amount of proficiency in this sleight of hand, most
seriously interfere with progress in all education and mental
cultivation worthy of the name.
‘How far the acknowledged deficiency of many of the fairer
sex in logical qualities and reasoning powers is due to this
strange delusion, it is not for your Council to discuss; but
they are not without hopes that the time may not be far distant
when they will be supported in an arrangement which will
place instrumental music altogether among the extra subjects,
and leave them and the teachers free to elevate and improve,
morally and intellectually, the condition of the female mind,
unembarrassed by so unessential an accomplishment.’
These remarks were followed in 1857 by others:—
‘Your Council have nothing to add to or retract from what
was said upon this subject in that Report: but, while they
believe that the instruction in this so-called accomplishment
is as efficient within these walls as it is capable, under all
circumstances, of being made, they must repeat their regret
that so vast a portion of valuable time should be sacrificed,
in the earlier years of almost every Englishwoman who hopes
to become a wife and mother, to that which is confessedly of
no value in an intellectual point of view; and can, by no
possibility, be of service to her in either of these two most
important, and generally much coveted capacities.’
The College had opened with a goodly array of teachers of
‘accomplishments,’ as it was hoped thus to attract bye-students. These
were gradually dismissed, and it cannot have added to the reputation
of the school that some of the best-known masters, such as M. Théodore
Colson, were considered too expensive. When the new Principal came there
were only two teachers of music, one of whom was Mrs. Lloyd, mother of
the great singer. Of this lady’s skill and loyalty Miss Beale always
spoke with affectionate remembrance. The Lady Principal gained her
support in a reform instituted very early in her reign, when separate
piano lessons were again introduced, and the class system, disliked by
Miss Beale on other than musical grounds, was swept away. She could
not permit an arrangement which withdrew four pupils at once from the
ordinary work of the school; through which important lessons were lost,
and ‘collisions between class and music teachers made frequent.’ That
the Council allowed such a change to be made is a testimony to their
confidence in the new Principal. The immediate result was disastrous to
the funds, and continued to be so until Mr. Brancker introduced his new
financial scheme in 1860.
The founders of the College were not men to be content with knowledge
obtained from epitomes; Miss Procter, also, was earnest and devoted
in her work, and took trouble to teach by means of lectures; but only
dictated notes were given, and these were not corrected. Her lessons were
evidently interesting:—
‘We worked hard, and the teaching was very thorough. I have
no doubt many of the pupils beside myself would willingly own
the great debt of gratitude they owe to Miss Procter; not so
much, perhaps, for what she taught, as for the way in which
she educated us by developing and enlarging our minds. She
possessed a good library, and we were often sent for books
of reference, and shown the bearings of the subject we were
studying. Physical geography was taught by Miss Brewer, who
always carefully prepared her lessons. M. Tiesset made our
French lessons delightful, even the grammar was a pleasure, and
he seemed to enjoy teaching us as much as we did being taught
by him.’
So wrote Mrs. Coulson (_née_ Hartland) for Miss Beale’s _History of the
Ladies’ College_, and another old pupil added:—
‘We had interesting lectures on Ancient History in general,
and Greek History and Literature, from Miss Procter.... M.
Tiesset and his sister taught French very well indeed, and I
especially remember a chart of irregular verbs, M. Tiesset’s
own arrangement, which, I believe, was a valuable help.’
Greek history was a favourite subject with Miss Procter, who neglected
for it the teaching of any other. Miss Beale, fresh from her _Textbook_,
at once began English and general history with her young first class.
Regardless of the additional labour it brought her, she also taught the
children to take notes, which she corrected for them. She gave weekly
examinations on the subjects studied, thus affording opportunity for
English composition.
No science nor mathematics were taught in the early days. Miss Beale
would have liked to introduce Euclid at once, but says, ‘Had I done so, I
might have been the death of the College, so I had to wait for the tide.
I began my innovations with the introduction of scientific teaching, and
under the name of physical geography I was able to teach a good deal.
This subject was unobjectionable, as few boys learned geography.’
In one particular Miss Beale found the authorities of her new school
striving to be abreast with the times. It was a rule of the constitution
that the pupils should be examined annually, and each year a graduate of
Oxford or Cambridge had undertaken the task. The first examiner (in 1853)
was Mr. Nicolay, then Dean of Queen’s College, Harley Street. In the
succeeding years a College master or some other local scholar conducted
the examination and sent in a report to the Council.
The few specimens left of those early examination questions, even without
the answers, mark a tide-line now interesting to trace.
At first the review of all knowledge was comprehended in twelve very
simple questions, the most difficult mathematical calculation set before
the first class being, ‘The Price of 3 ozs. of tea at 4s. 4d. per lb.’
The paper concluded thus:—
‘11. Write out that part of your duty towards your neighbour
which explains the fifth commandment, and prove each assertion
from Scripture.
‘12. Write out the following sentence in large text, and small
hand, as specimens of your handwriting:
‘Integrity of understanding, and nicety of discernment, were
not allotted.
‘(Attach to this paper specimens of your needlework and of your
drawing).’
To the true teacher the interest of her work lies, beyond and above all
subjects and methods, in the child. No tale, alas! nor letter remains
to show what Miss Beale thought of her children when she first came
among them. In one respect there must have been disappointment. Miss
Procter had opened a rival school, which had drawn off the elder pupils;
consequently the first class consisted of girls of thirteen and fourteen.
But fortunately there are some of those same children who can recall
the first impression made upon themselves by the new Principal, as she
appeared on August 19, 1858. Mrs. Mace, a daughter of the late Bishop
Bromby, was among these. She writes:—
‘I well remember Miss Beale’s first appearance at College,
and how I and three or four special friends, who were already
there ... felt fiercely loyal to the former rule, and told
each other we knew exactly what the new Principal would be
like, “thin, tall, spectacled, and old-maidy.” I can see her
now as she appeared in reality,—the slight, young figure, the
very gentle, gliding movements, the quiet face with its look
of intense thoughtfulness and utter absence of all poor and
common stress and turmoil, the intellectual brow, the wonderful
eyes with their calm outlook and their expression of inner
vision. You may be sure it was not long before the captious
thirteen-year-olds were changed into warm admirers.
‘I do not think her quiet dignity, her strength and
personality, her power of influence, could at any time of
her strenuous and successful life have been greater or more
impressive. We were few in number then, and, of course, saw
more of her than was possible for later pupils.
‘I never remember her raising her voice, scolding us, being
satirical or impatient with dulness or inattention. She was not
satirical even when a small girl, on being asked what criticism
might be passed on Milton’s treatment of _Paradise Lost_,
ventured the audacious suggestion that the poet was “verbose.”’
Small instances of the new Principal’s own powers of observation and use
of outside facts stand out through the mists of time; for instance,
‘an afternoon when she visited the needlework room and found
me being most justly blamed for inefficiency. In kindly tones
she said to the shy and clumsy culprit, “You ought to sew well,
for your mother has such beautiful long fingers,” and somehow
I felt comforted and encouraged. Then there was a day when I
summoned up courage to go and tell her that I had been guilty
of some small disobedience, as well as others who had been
detected and punished. She seized the opportunity of impressing
upon me that as I was (though only fourteen) a teacher in my
father’s Sunday-school,—a fact of which I did not know she was
aware,—I must surely see that obedience to rule was necessary.
I can still hear the low, earnest tones in which she made her
appeal to my sense of justice and right.’
The incident suggests a laxer state of discipline than was ever known
after. Assuredly on this point Miss Beale found a good deal to do. Some
of the ‘young ladies’ treated the good-natured French master as their
brothers at Cheltenham College might have done. There is a story, too, of
a convenient cupboard at the end of the schoolroom, large enough for a
quiet game or gossip, and of the consternation produced on a little knot
of girls who thought they had assembled unobserved, when the door was
quietly opened upon them by the Lady Principal herself.
In the matter of discipline, as of tuition, Miss Beale appears to
have worked on lines already laid down. Perhaps she kept before her
mind counsel which she later gave to a pupil who left Cheltenham to
be head of a Foundation School: ‘Remember the school belongs to the
governors, not to you.’ But we are equally certain that she would not
have worked on any lines which she did not approve. She found no system
of rules and penalties. She did not wish to introduce one; but she
made real and abiding, in a manner hardly credited by those outside,
the rule introduced by Miss Procter, by which no pupil might speak
to another without leave. With regard to this rule, which at once
taught self-control and produced order, the ‘quietness which minimises
irritability,’ it may be further remarked that in a place and time of
‘exclusive’ views, the College could hardly have existed without it.
The rule, kept, in itself prevented any pupil from making friends for
the first time in College; at any rate, it enabled her not to do so.
There was, however, when Miss Beale first came, a good deal of speaking
without leave. This disobedience with other irregularities she gradually
overcame, not by an overawing personality alone, but with the ‘quiet’
ways and the word in season of which more than one old pupil speaks.
Tracing in sequence the history of Miss Beale’s first two years, when
the College, though in the eyes of the world slowly perishing, was
really sinking strong foundations, the Report of 1859 stands out with
its commendation of the new Lady Principal. ‘Of Miss Beale herself it
may suffice to remark, that to varied and extensive knowledge in all
branches of Education, and skill in imparting it, she unites a manner
and disposition which at once command the respect and win the affection
of her Pupils, and renders it pleasant to your Council to maintain that
frequent personal communication with her which is greatly conducive to
the wellbeing of the Institution.’ Beyond this there is little definite
to record, save the steady half-yearly diminution in the number of
pupils and of the balance at the bank, and the consequent retrenchments,
implying fresh burden and effort for the small teaching staff.
In her _History of the College_, Miss Beale dismissed as with a smile the
tale of her early struggles, when each quarter it seemed less likely that
the school could live, till in the last half-year of 1859 there were only
sixty-five pupils and but a few pounds in the bank. But she admitted that
perhaps only a barrister sitting in his chambers, and waiting in vain for
briefs, could sympathise with the anxiety of that time, when upon one or
two pupils more or less depended the very existence of the College. The
story she tells of recalling pupils, sent from the door by a servant who
said she was at dinner, shows her unwearying zeal: ‘I sent her to fetch
them back, saying, I am never at dinner.’ No pupil was lost for want of
watchfulness. None could give notice without her knowing the reason, and
in many cases getting the notice recalled. The problem was to live on,
working in a way the public had not learned to appreciate. Those were
days when nervous strain was little known and scarcely feared. School
hours were long; the time-table of the College then involved morning and
afternoon school for most days in the week. To one who sought ever to
instruct with freshness and zeal, and to take trouble to make her pupils
think for themselves, the work of teaching twice a day through the long
half-years would now be counted an undue effort and strain. In addition
to this, Dorothea Beale took upon herself, as if it were her own personal
need (and she made it so), the daily fretting anxiety of making the
College pay. This she never really threw off, though in the last years
of established success it became somewhat modified. The economic strain
was relaxed when Mr. Brancker’s able hand was laid upon the finances; the
labour of teaching was lightened when the hours were changed, and when
with gradually improving fortunes more and better teachers were engaged.
Doubtless she might have taken advantage of these improvements to give
herself more ease of body and mind. But she cared for no reward, save the
‘wages of going on.’ Her eager, nobly ambitious nature responded but too
quickly to the claims of the College, so with each step made certain,
there was ever immediately before her another to be fought for and won.
It were hardly possible to say too much in praise of the enthusiastic
self-sacrifice which made the College what it is; but some of the results
of the early strife with fortune were to be deplored. It left her too
conscious of the place of the institution in the public eye; it made it
hard for her to justify a more generous expenditure than was possible at
first.
The improved discipline, the invigorating teaching, even the efforts
of the new Principal herself, failed to attract pupils, and when in
1860 the lease of Cambray House expired, no one was willing to take the
responsibility of renewing it.
Forty years later, when looking back on that time of gloom, Miss Beale
wrote: ‘How often I was full of discouragement. It was not so much the
want of money as the want of ideals which depressed me. If I went into
society I heard it said, “What is the good of education for our girls?
They have not to earn their living.” Those who spoke did not see that
for women as for men it is a sin to bury the talents God has given; they
seemed not to know that the baptismal right was the same for girls as for
boys, alike enrolled in the army of light, soldiers of Jesus Christ.
‘But helpers were sent with a faith and courage greater than mine.’
First among these was Mr. J. Houghton Brancker, who, already a member
of the Council, became at the moment of deepest need, auditor of the
accounts, and brought to the service of the College his great knowledge
of business and enthusiastic interest in education. Mr. Brancker had come
to live in Cheltenham for the sake of his daughters, in the year that
Miss Beale became Principal. He was churchwarden to Mr. Bromby, whose
liberal views he shared. Mr. Brancker had more than zeal and interest;
he could think out a plan and pursue it. He spared no effort or trouble
where a good end was to be obtained. When he became financier of the
College he gave it ‘a large share of his time, and as a paid secretary
could not be afforded, he undertook all duties gratuitously.’ He made
out a new scheme by which the ordinary fees were lowered, but music and
drawing became extras. It was too great a venture to renew the lease of
Cambray House; but the owner of the house consented to take the College
on as a yearly tenant. The new scheme of payment helped at once to bring
improvement, the number of pupils went up, and Mr. Brancker went so far
as to order ‘seven new benches, three of them with backs.’
[Illustration: _Mr. T. Houghton Brancker_]
This act of extravagance was followed almost immediately by an
enlargement of the schoolroom, making it seventy feet long. Mr. Brancker
proved that this additional space was really a financial economy; for
with it all the pupils could be contained in one room, and the necessity
of increasing the staff was deferred. As an alternative to the extension
he breathed the suggestion, for the first time probably in the history of
the College, of a new building, a building of its own, should a suitable
site be obtained. In his letter on this subject to Mr. Hartland, the
‘young ladies’ for the first time appear as ‘children.’ Mr. Brancker’s
dream was destined to be deferred for ten years; but was borne in mind
by those whom it most concerned. It may be thought he was premature even
in the enlargement, in spending at once the small profit made out of the
increasing number of pupils. But he did not aim at making a fortune for
the College. From the first it was proposed that the shareholders should
reap no financial profit, and Mr. Brancker wished it to be evident that
every penny was needed for the improvement of the work: hence, it was no
part of his plan to have a balance in hand. His effort was to keep up the
prestige of the College in every way, and in order to do this he limited
the number of shares issued to the actual number of pupils, in order that
they might not be advertised for sale at a lower price than that at which
they were purchased.
In three years from the time at which Mr. Brancker became auditor, he
was able to write: ‘February 1863. We promised assets over £1000, they
are £1076. We promised a money balance of over £200, and it is £356.
So I think the shareholders may have confidence in their Chancellor of
the Exchequer. We may well be proud of the result, but we are _deeply_
indebted to Miss Beale’s exertions for it, and I am glad her remuneration
(by capitation fees) is so much increased.’
By 1864 all pressing anxiety for the existence of the College was over.
With its one hundred and thirty pupils it was practically full. A
regularly constituted boarding-house was opened. Here the day-pupils,
whose parents were leaving Cheltenham, could be taken, and thus another
cause of diminution in the number of pupils was put an end to. Undivided
attention and care could now be given to the work.
In February a change which greatly told on this was made, a change which
now seems to have been only wise and reasonable, but which was at the
time regarded as extraordinary and revolutionary. Longer morning hours
were substituted for morning and afternoon school each day, Thursday
afternoons being set apart for dancing and needlework. Possibly Miss
Beale anticipated the outcry that would be raised; for she asked the
mother of one of the pupils, one likely to be opposed to the change, to
be with her at the Council meeting at which it was determined, ostensibly
because she herself dreaded the meeting, but doubtless in order that a
representative of the parents might hear the subject fully discussed. No
notice of the change was sent to the shareholders, parents and guardians
received an intimation scarcely a week before it took place. Before that
week was over, stormy articles appeared in the local papers, notices of
removal were sent in, and a memorial from the shareholders and others
caused Mr. Brancker hastily to summon another Council meeting, and to
write to Mr. Hartland, ‘May I specially beg that you will attend ... as
I consider the vital interests and the future prospects of the College
are at stake.’ Mr. Brancker and Miss Beale recognised that now or never
the battle must be won. Either the College authorities must rule, or the
local papers and popular clamour.
The objections of the memorialists were that the change was a _coup
d’état_; that four hours’ continuous study was too much for the children;
that the governesses were idle in wanting a half-holiday every afternoon.
But the real ground of dislike was doubtless that parents shirked the
responsibility of looking after their children in the afternoons,
and preferred schoolroom arrangements which would provide them with
occupation during the whole day.
The Council replied in a circular to the parents that they would limit
the experiment to a period of two months, after which they would act
upon the opinion of the parents; and should the new plan be adopted, the
quarter’s fees should be returned to those who wished to remove their
children. The advantages of the change were then set forth.
It had been made to meet the objections raised to physical and mental
effort following immediately upon a hurried meal; to the young ladies
passing constantly through the streets, to the trouble of sending
servants, the exertion of so much walking, the time wasted in dressing
and undressing, and to many others.
Medical men, among whom were Dr. Barlow and Dr. Gull,[39] were asked
for their opinions; these were uniformly favourable to the change. The
long morning hours were lightened by the introduction of calisthenics,
drawing, and needlework, and it was arranged that certain teachers
should attend the College every afternoon to supervise the preparation
of lessons when the parents desired it. When a general meeting on the
subject took place at the end of the specified two months, only eight
voted for the old system. ‘It was found,’ says Miss Beale, ‘that more
work was done in less time, for attention was closer ... teachers and
children had been able to get some afternoon exercise.’
What was then thought so extraordinary has since become the order of the
day for girls’ schools. In this matter Cheltenham led the way, a similar
change was made by Miss Buss in 1865, and when the hours of the Girls’
Public Day School Company were arranged in 1873, it was on the plan of
putting all regular studies into the morning hours.
At the end of Miss Beale’s first six years the College was in a much
improved condition. There were ten classes, where she had found six.
The notable changes on the staff, which was now larger, were that Miss
Brewer had left to open a school for little boys in Brighton, and Miss
Anna Beale and the Miss Eatons had joined. Increased prosperity, and
above all an older first class, enabled Miss Beale to introduce some of
the subjects which at first were thought to be too unacceptable to be
safe. There was, of course, opposition from those who were constantly
repeating that ‘girls would be turned into boys by studying the same
subjects.’ What, it was asked by some parents, do girls want with Euclid
or advanced arithmetic? There were, however, a few who understood Miss
Beale’s aims, and she was ever grateful for the support they gave her.
The method of annual examinations was gradually improved. When there was
so little money available, local examiners, some of whom had no claim
to the position, were chosen. Miss Beale records her conviction that a
German examiner, who was at the time teaching in a local school, was a
waiter from some hotel who had come to England out of the season. One
English examiner recommended that history should be taught backwards.
This was then regarded as an astounding proposition. Mr. Brancker fully
sympathised with Miss Beale’s wish to improve the standard by obtaining
examiners from one of the universities, and obtained permission from
the Council to seek them himself in Oxford. The result was that for
two or three years Mr. Sidney Owen undertook the principal part of the
annual examination. His name was the first of a long list of men notable
for scholarly achievement or educational progress, who in later years
conducted these examinations at Cheltenham. In his first report Mr. Owen
said much for the moral characteristics revealed by the intellectual work
it was his business to survey. He concludes a very favourable judgment by
saying he must not omit to mention that there were particular instances
of remarkable excellence of which the College may justly be proud. Some
of the papers he said, ‘would do credit to any Institution and gain high
marks in any public examination.... May the College long give the lie to
the miserable and pernicious fancy that accomplishments ought to be the
staple of a lady’s education, and that her reason is not designed by the
Almighty to be highly cultivated.’ But he thought the papers too long.
Mr. Owen was indeed the very first adventurer into that flood of response
which examination questions cause to flow from uncontrolled feminine
pens. Mr. Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) was in 1863 the first university
examiner in arithmetic and mathematics.
This year was a fruitful one to Miss Beale for yet another reason. It was
the year of the completion of her _Chart_. Always interested in history,
ideally and practically, she had as early as the Queen’s College days
adopted a French scheme by which the learning of dates was to be simple
and easy, and the connections of history, the bearing of facts and events
upon each other, were to be seen at a glance. She now perfected and
brought it into use. The plan was based on the assumption that a fact is
more readily grasped through the eye, than by the ear. By means of large
squares, which were to represent centuries, enclosing smaller ones, which
should denote years, the whole coloured in different shades according to
the different ruling dominions and dynasties, a complete outline of the
history of a country was to appear on one page. The reckoning was made
by which ninety-nine was counted as the last year of a century, with the
result that in the year 1900 the chart found itself somewhat discredited.
But this method of counting, of course, in no way interfered with the
system. In learning dates at the College, great stress was laid upon
having a chart open before the student, so that she might grow familiar
with its look, and become able to call up the knowledge of any special
event by remembering the position of a dot in a certain square. There
were those to say with Canon Francis Holland, founder of the Church of
England High Schools in London, ‘Why was I born before such aids were
given to the understanding?’ Whether this system was indeed the royal
road Miss Beale had planned for her pupils may well be questioned;
but the _Chart_ had at any rate the value of a simple _vade mecum_ of
chronology, introducing every girl at College to the minimum of facts she
should know in the history of the world.
The _Chart_ drew for its author a last kind word of recognition from an
old friend, when Mr. Mackenzie wrote:—
‘WESTBOURNE COLLEGE, 1863.
‘ ... I am proud to think that I had any part, however humble,
in directing your mind to the Tabular style of teaching; and I
am gratified to find that one of whom I had so early formed a
favourable opinion, has proved to be so able a worker in the
great cause of Education.
‘I hope that you and your sisters, as well as my Godson, quite
understand that I entertain for you all the feelings of an old
friend, who values you on your own account as well as for the
sake of both your Parents.—Believe me to be always your sincere
Friend,
C. MACKENZIE.’
So, in the best sense the College grew. Not in outward prosperity alone,
in teaching power, in class rooms; but within. The invisible fabric of
mind, and will, and heart, co-ordinated by one great idea, was slowly
being raised. The ‘aborigines,’ as those who were girls of the Cambray
House time call themselves, even insist that at no time of her career was
Miss Beale’s personal influence so direct as then, when teaching so many
subjects herself, and in small classes, she came personally in contact
with nearly all the older pupils. All classes had their place and desks
in the long hall; but the lowest division had a separate schoolroom as
soon as funds justified it, and the rooms of the house, even on occasion
those appointed to the Principal, were used as classrooms. Miss Beale
did not often teach in the large hall. The young ones were cleared out
of their division room when she gave a big lecture; a small class, such
as one for German translation, would be taken in her drawing-room. There
came a moment when even her bedroom was invaded. Those small classes
of mathematics or German were more especially the ones which endeared
teacher and pupils to each other. There was always enough personal awe
and inspiration about the Lady Principal to ensure a well-prepared lesson
from really interested pupils, and often beyond the lesson there would
be delightful talk. _Iphigenie in Tauris_ recalls many thoughts beyond
German translation, and the verbal exercise itself was deprived of every
vestige of dulness by her great interest in the growth and development of
words. No noble thought, no fine simile was allowed to pass unnoticed;
other poems were compared, or perhaps a passage would be given to be
translated into English verse. In the mere suggestion of this, what hope
and encouragement lay for many who hardly liked to own their pleasure in
such an attempt, or who had found earlier efforts of the kind thwarted by
criticism too bracing for beginners! It may indeed be thought that Miss
Beale had always an unwarranted admiration for the verse-making of her
pupils. If in this she sometimes offended the cause of pure literature,
her attitude towards it was yet surely the right one for a teacher.
This must indeed have been one of the happiest periods of her work, when
she first came into near touch with the children she had seen grow up
about her, and felt herself able to give impetus and training to growing
aspirations and developing thought, when her sympathy was constantly
appealed to in the way in which she could best give it.
‘It is my peculiar privilege to have spent all my College
career in her class, to go through years of her special
personal teaching. In later days, when the College assumed
larger dimensions, such an experience must have been rare;
to those who could claim it, it meant a potent influence for
life. How vividly can I recall her sitting on her little
dais, scanning the long school-room and discovering anything
amiss at the far end of it; or making a tour of inspection to
the various classes with a smiling countenance that banished
terror.’
So writes one old pupil of that time. Another speaks of that deep
tenderness which she ever felt, but often concealed, and was not afraid
of showing in a case of special need.
‘When I was almost a child at College I lost my mother, and
shall never forget Miss Beale’s tender sympathy and help. She
took such interest in my preparation for Confirmation, and
brought me herself to my first Communion,—just she and I alone;
a day I shall always remember. All through my girlhood she was
a kind and ready adviser, and continued her interest throughout
my married life. One always felt whatever happened to one, Now
I must tell Miss Beale.’
It is sad to know that Miss Beale was often depressed in that hopeful
spring-time of the College by the tongues of gossip and slander. She had
so profound a horror of petty talk about other people’s business, that
she possibly exaggerated the importance of carelessly repeated and untrue
reports. She mentions the local gossip from which the College had to
suffer.
‘Tales were handed about that it was impossible to trace. It
was said that accomplishments were neglected, that the pupils
played on dumb pianos. Persons who did not exist, and others
who would never have been admitted, were said to attend the
College. News was sent out to Canada that the cattle plague
was prevailing, and the report was half believed. The mere
circulation of absurd falsehoods is, however, often enough to
decide a mother to place her daughter elsewhere; sometimes no
falsehood at all, a contemptuous tone is enough. Such things
can only be met by silence and steady and unobtrusive work.
Perhaps one is better off without the children of those who
accept their rule of life from Mrs. Grundy. Certainly such
opposition and persecution prove an excellent tonic, and
I personally feel grateful for it, though it was a bitter
draught. We had to remember that the interests of some were
injured by the establishment of the College; the wish being
father to the thought, people would sometimes believe what they
said.’
Matters reached a climax when an absolutely untrue statement concerning
cruelty to animals was set on foot about Mrs. Fraser, who had opened a
boarding-house in connection with the College. The real gravity of the
report lay in the circumstance that some in the College had listened to
it, and it was necessary to address the teachers on the subject. It was a
painful task, but bravely faced by the Lady Principal, who said:
‘Now I have nothing to do to judge them that are without. We
must cheerfully bear evil-speaking. But if it come from within,
the matter is for that reason a serious one; for this reason I
feel it must be traced up to its source.... I feel I can appeal
to you as lovers of truth, as those who feel that no advantages
of education, of health, or any other, can compensate for the
disadvantage which would arise to any children who lived in an
atmosphere of evil-speaking, lying, and slandering.’
Thus grasped, the nettle ceased to sting. It was perhaps a small incident
scarcely worth noting. But Miss Beale remembered it as one which caused
great discomfort at the time, and it had far-reaching consequences. Her
power then was more limited than in after years. She learned through this
difficulty the need for more liberty to act independently of the Council
in the internal management of the College. In her efforts to get the
evil rooted out from their midst, she nearly exceeded her powers. This,
doubtless, taught her to prosecute her reforms more warily. Above all,
it may be believed that she gained a fresh access of that self-control
so necessary to all governors. For it is only in fiction that difficulty
can be overcome by a sudden word or action; in real life work has to be
carried on despite the obstacle;—growth takes place under pressure.
Outside the work of the College there is not a great deal to relate about
Miss Beale’s life at this period. Her holidays were sometimes spent in
visits to her family.
After the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. John Beale, Hyde Court, the old family
house came into the possession of Miss Beale’s mother, who had been left
a widow in 1862. In 1868 Mrs. Beale came with two daughters to reside at
Hyde Court until her death in 1881. There the Lady Principal often went
in the holidays, finding pleasure in the beautiful surroundings. An old
pupil tells of the delights of a visit to her there,—of Mrs. Beale, whom
her daughter Dorothea greatly resembled, calm and majestic looking, of
the glorious view from the windows of the room appropriated to Miss Beale
and her large correspondence.
A good part of the holidays even then was spent in Cheltenham, but there
were some visits abroad. One year Miss Beale accompanied her brother
Edward, then recovering from illness, to the Black Forest. On another
occasion she went with her sister to Chamounix, and enjoyed the mountain
walks. In 1864 she spent some time at Zürich. More than once she went
to Paris. This continental travel was by no means for recreation and
refreshment only. It nearly always implied visits to schools, where
fresh and foreign methods were studied. No opportunity of gaining new
ideas was ever neglected, for Miss Beale could not understand ever
living apart from her work. In the holidays, as in school-time, she was
still working, though in a different way. In Cheltenham itself there
was little time or opportunity for recreation. Society, as the word is
generally understood, had little to say to the new head-mistress, whose
insignificant figure and plain dress did not provoke much interest. Her
absence of small talk, her quiet intellectual face, her reputation as
a clever woman, her connection with Queen’s College, all represented
something unwonted and new. She had received no welcome from the
religious world of Cheltenham, whose leaders, Mr. Close and Mr. Boyd,
though one of them had accepted a seat on the Council, remained aloof
from the interests of the Ladies’ College, perhaps sharing the prejudice
still prevalent against any departure from the beaten track of women’s
education.
It was of little moment to Miss Beale to find herself unsought by
society, for she seldom cared to spend an evening from her work. She
could not understand the position, which some have thought it wise to
take up, that it is good for a school to have its head seen in society.
She held it to be best for a school that its head should give herself
unremittingly to her work,—disastrous to the welfare of any pupils for
their teacher to sacrifice to social engagements the time she ought to
give to the preparation of lessons. The friends of that early time were a
few thoughtful people who were interested like herself in education.
On first coming to Cheltenham Miss Beale, to please Miss Brewer, she
said, attended Christchurch, but she soon left this for St. Philip’s
and St. James’ at Leckhampton, and for St. Paul’s. Both these churches
were less obviously in the possession of wealthy seat-holders than the
churches in the town. To St. Philip’s she went at that time when she
‘wanted to be quiet,’ taking up a position near the door. All the middle
of that church was then occupied by charity children and the poor, but
there were in the rich part of the congregation many whose names have
interest from one cause or another.
The incumbent of St. Philip’s, the Rev. A. E. Riddle, was a man of much
learning. He had been Bampton Lecturer in 1832, and was the author of a
well-known Latin Dictionary and other books. Miss Beale felt at home in
his great library, and visits to Mrs. Riddle at Tudor Lodge were among
the few recreations. Mr. Riddle died in 1859, and for the next few years
she seems to have regularly attended St. Paul’s or Holy Trinity churches.
She found real friends in the parsonage-house at St. Paul’s, but the
immediate tie was soon broken, for in 1864 Mr. Bromby was made Bishop of
Tasmania.
The claims of relationship and early friendship were not forgotten,
but there was little time for letter-writing beyond the ever-growing
correspondence connected with work. Mr. Beale wrote playfully of his
daughter’s growing absorption:—
‘You always write as if you were at the top of your speed,
and this is not good. I doubt not you have a great deal to
occupy your time and your attention, but pray do not be always
in a hurry, you will inevitably break down if you are so—you
will lose in power what you gain in speed, as certainly as in
mechanics; and with greater danger to the regularity of the
machine.... I am really fearful to take up your time.... I
daresay now you are scrambling through my note without that
respect to which the writer and the subject are entitled. But
pray remember that to neglect (the care of your health) is the
worst economy in the world....
‘I will now release you, but I was unwilling quite to lose
your correspondence, though do not write to me until you have a
little patient leisure.’
Thus, in difficulty and obscurity, the life-work of Dorothea Beale was
begun. But hers was a light which could not long be hid. Each year it
burned more surely and shone further afield. By 1864, when the Endowed
Schools’ Inquiry Commission was instituted, she was known as a successful
head-mistress whose views and methods were worth hearing. With Miss Buss
and others she was asked to give evidence.