AT DULWICH COLLEGE
Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy?
BYRON: "CHILDE HAROLD."
Our son entered Dulwich College in September, 1908, when he was twelve
years of age, and remained a member of it until March, 1915. These six
and a half years had a powerful influence on the development of his
character, which flowered beautifully in this congenial atmosphere.
The most famous school in South London, Dulwich College has a notable
history. It was founded through the munificence of Edward Alleyn,
theatre-proprietor and actor, a contemporary, an acquaintance, and
probably a friend of Shakespeare. At the inaugural dinner in
September, 1619, to celebrate the foundation of Alleyn's "College of
God's gift," an illustrious company was present, including the Lord
Chancellor, Francis Bacon, "the greatest and the meanest of mankind,"
then at the summit of his fame but soon to fall in disgrace from his
high eminence; Inigo Jones, the famous architect, who in that year was
superintending the erection of the new Banqueting Hall in Whitehall;
and other distinguished men.
Since its foundation the College has passed through many vicissitudes.
With the development of building on the estate the income rapidly
expanded in the nineteenth century. In 1857 the charity was
reorganised and the trust varied by Act of Parliament. The present
school buildings were opened in 1870. The old college--including the
chapel (containing the pious founder's tomb), almshouses and the
offices of the estate governors--remains in Dulwich Village, a very
picturesque and well-preserved structure embowered in trees. At its
rear is the celebrated Picture Gallery, the nucleus of which was a
collection of pictures originally intended to grace the palace of
Stanislaus, the last King of Poland. The new college buildings have a
delightful situation. All around them are wide stretches of green
fields; here and there pleasant hedgerows; on the slopes of Sydenham
Hill charming woodlands, some of them a veritable sanctuary for
bird-life. In the spring-time the whole neighbourhood is musical with
the song of birds, and one is often thrilled by the rich haunting note
of the cuckoo. On the fringes of the playing-fields and round about
the boarding-houses are magnificent trees--chiefly elm, beech, birch
and chestnut, more rarely oak. In short, the surroundings of the
college have a thoroughly rural aspect. It is an ideal environment for
the training of boys. There is nothing in this sylvan and pastoral
beauty to suggest that we are in a great city.
Dulwich College is both a boarding school and a day school, the
boarders numbering about 120 and the day-boys about 550. When Paul
Jones entered the college as a day-boy in 1908 the Headmaster was Mr.
A. H. Gilkes, who retired after the summer term of 1914. Our son,
therefore, had the good fortune to come under the influence for six
years of one of the greatest public-school masters of our generation.
A former colleague of mine, Mr. Henry W. Nevinson, used to speak to me
in glowing terms of Mr. Gilkes, who was a master at Shrewsbury School
when he was a boy there, and I note that the Rev. Dr. Horton in his
"Autobiography" alludes to him as "the master at Shrewsbury to whom I
owed most." Undoubtedly Mr. Gilkes's best work was done as Headmaster
of Dulwich. The College has never known a greater head. Under him the
whole place was revivified. During his reign not only did a fine moral
tone characterise the school, but there was equal enthusiasm for work
and games. Thanks to a commanding personality, in which strength,
dignity and graciousness were subtly mingled, the influence of Mr.
Gilkes pervaded the whole school from the highest to the lowest forms.
Paul quickly recognised the nobility of the "Old Man," as he was
universally known to the boys. His affection for him amounted to
veneration, and however brief the leave he had from the Army he always
found time to pay his old headmaster a visit. On his part Mr. Gilkes
had a great regard for our son, whom with sure perception he described
as "fearless, strong and capable, with a heart as soft and kind as a
heart can be."
A new boy's early days in a public school are often trying. He is in a
strange world with its own laws and customs; and at the outset he has
to endure the scrutiny of curious and often hostile eyes. Our son's
marked idiosyncrasies, sturdy independence, fastidious refinement and
passion for work, singled him out from his fellows as an original. As
boys resent any deviation from the normal, he had a rough time until
he found his feet, and the experience was repeated as he moved up to
new forms. Not a word about all this escaped his lips at home; I have
ascertained it from others. Stories reached me of personal combats
from which he usually emerged the victor, and of one prolonged fight
with an older boy that had at last to be drawn. In the end Paul won
through; his pluck and strength compelled a respect that would have
been refused to his intellectual gifts. His tormentors realised that
he was not a mere "swot," that he had fists and knew how to use them.
Animosity was also disarmed by his chivalric spirit. He began his
career at Dulwich in the Classical Lower IV. In June, 1909, he won a
Junior Scholarship, which freed him from school fees for three years,
and in 1912 a Senior Scholarship of the same nature. When he was in
the Classical Lower Fifth (1909), his form master, Mr. H. V. Doulton
reported:
"He is a boy of great promise and will make an excellent scholar. He
has marked aptitude for classical work, and success in the great
public examinations may be predicted for him with absolute
confidence." "Painstaking and anxious to do well, but rather slow,"
was the verdict of his mathematical teacher.
In the summer term, 1910, Paul changed over from the Classical to the
Modern side of the school. I was averse to the change, and his
Classical form-master dissuaded him against it. But once Paul's mind
was made up nothing would break his resolution: he had a strong and
tenacious will. His main desire in transferring to the Modern side was
to study English literature and modern languages thoroughly. He never
regretted the change. As he grew older the firmer became his
conviction that Classics were overdone in the public schools. Even in
a school responsive to the spirit of the age like Dulwich, which has
Modern, Science, and Engineering sides, the primacy still belongs to
Classics, and the captaincy of the school is rigidly confined to boys
on the Classical side. My son believed that this bias for Classics was
bad educationally. He thought the prestige given to Greek and Latin as
compared with English Literature, Science, Modern Languages and
History was simply the outcome of a pedantic scholastic tradition,
which made for narrowness not for broad culture. With him it was not a
case of making a virtue of necessity, as he had real aptitude for
Greek and Latin. But he wanted the windows of our public schools to be
cleared of mediaeval cobwebs and flung wide open to the fresh breezes
of the modern world.
In the report for the last term of 1910, when he was in the Modern
Upper V, he was described as "a very capable boy with great
abilities." The next report, when he was in the Remove, complained of
his "frivolous attitude" in the Physics classes, but "otherwise he has
worked well and made good progress." In June, 1911, he passed the
Senior School Examination with honours, winning distinction in
English, French and Latin--a remarkable achievement for a boy who had
only just turned fifteen. Owing to his being under age, the London
Matriculation certificate in respect of this examination was not
forwarded until he had reached sixteen. "Considering that he is only
fifteen," wrote Mr. J. A. Joerg, his form-master, "it should be deemed
a great honour for him to have passed in the First Division; it does
him much credit." Mr. Boon, who prepared him in mathematics, testified
that Paul had "worked with interest and energy" at what was for him an
uncongenial subject. He entered the Sixth Form in September, 1911,
being then fifteen and a half years old; the form average was
seventeen years. In 1912 his reports showed that he was making
all-round progress, and was applying himself with zest to a new
subject, Logic. In the summer term, 1913, he was first in form
order--1st in English, 2nd in Latin, 3rd in French, 4th in German.
Though specialising in History, he retained his position as head of
the Modern side until he left school, with one interval in the summer
term of 1914, when he had to take second place, recovering the
headship next term. In order to have a clear road to Oxford
University, he qualified in Greek at the London Matriculation
Examination, January, 1914. During his Dulwich career he won many
prizes, most of which took the form of historical works. As will
appear later, he played as whole-heartedly in games as he worked at
his books.
History was a subject to which he was instinctively drawn, and in 1913
he began preparing definitely for an Oxford University scholarship. He
read thoroughly and covered a wide field. In addition to the
systematic study of History, he touched the fringes of philosophy and
political economy. He was helped in his studies by a very retentive
memory. One of his schoolfellows said to me, "Paul has only to read a
book once and it is for ever imprinted on his mind." Among the
historical writers whom he read during his eighteen months'
preparation were: Gibbon, Carlyle, Macaulay, Hallam, Guizot, Michelet,
Thiers, Bluntschli, Maine, Froude, Bagehot, Seeley, Maitland, Stubbs,
Gardiner, Acton, John Morley, Bryce, Dicey, Tout, Mahan, Holland Rose,
G. M. Trevelyan, Hilaire Belloc and H. W. C. Davis. Two recent books
that gave him special pleasure were Mr. G. P. Gooch's masterly
"History of Historians" and Mr. F. S. Marvin's entrancing little work
"The Living Past."
His hard reading was crowned in December, 1914, by a considerable
achievement, for he won the coveted Brakenbury Scholarship in History
and Modern Languages at Balliol College, Oxford. This scholarship,
worth L80 per annum, is tenable for four years; to it subsequently
Dulwich College added an exhibition of the annual value of L20. He was
the first Balliol scholar in history from Dulwich. Not at all
confident that he had won the Brakenbury, he went up to Oxford a
second time, while the result of the Balliol examination was still
unknown, to try for a less exacting scholarship. Happily there was no
necessity for him to undergo this second test, as he found on his
arrival at Oxford that his name had just been posted as a Brakenbury
scholar.
When he went up, in the last week in November, 1914, for examination
at Balliol College, it was his first visit to Oxford. Short as was
his stay within its precincts, it was long enough for the glamour and
beauty of the venerable university to steal into his soul; and the
spell of it remained with him as a permanent possession. In spite of
examination anxieties he had a pleasant time at Oxford, as the
following letter shows:
THE OLD PARSONAGE,
OXFORD,
_December 1st_, 1914.
Everything going as well as could be anticipated. But I don't
expect to win the Brakenbury, so there can't be much of a
disappointment. I have done one paper already, the
essay--subject, "A Nation's character as expressed in its Art and
Literature." I think I got on fairly well. The papers end by
Thursday afternoon. I was round with all the Dulwich fellows in
Wetenhall's rooms at Worcester College last night, and had a
great time. Cartwright came across, and a lot of other O.A.'s.
To-night I am dining with Gover, an old friend of mine, in hall
at Balliol, and going on to his rooms afterwards. I am booked for
brekker and dinner to-morrow. Dulwich is a magic name here; if
you add "captain of football" all doors fly open to you.
Altogether I don't feel I am up for a scholarship at all--a good
thing, for it prevents my getting nervous.
Of the many congratulations on his success in winning a Balliol
scholarship, none granted him more than a letter from an "Old
Alleynian," who wrote:
My very best congratters on the fresh laurel with which you have
adorned your crown of victory. A Balliol scholarship for four
years, and this to have been secured by the captain of a public
school 1st XV that has won four out of its five great school
matches! My dear Paul, you have done splendidly. I don't remember
during my time such a happy combination of work and play.
Mr. Llewelyn Williams, K.C., M.P., himself an Oxford history scholar,
wrote: "Paul's brilliant success warmed even my old heart. Tell him
from me I hope when he is a Don he will write the History of Wales."
Paul was appointed a prefect at Dulwich in 1912. He participated in
every phase of school life and was devoted to athletics. In cricket he
was quick and adroit as a fielder, but he had no skill either as a
batsman--doubtless owing to his visual defect--or as a bowler. Very
fond of swimming, he was a regular visitor to the college swimming
bath. He had great endurance in the water, but lacked speed, and much
to his disappointment failed to get his swimming colours. His love of
swimming never waned, and in the sea he would swim long distances.
Swimming brought him an ecstasy of physical and moral exhilaration. He
could say with Byron:
I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward.
Lawn tennis is discouraged at Dulwich, but Paul became adept in this
pastime, thanks to games on the lawn attached to our house. In the
whole range of athletics nothing gave him so much pleasure and
satisfaction as Rugby football. Too massive in build to be a swift
runner, and unable owing to his defective vision to give or take
"passes" with quick precision, he was not suited to the three-quarter
line; but as a forward he made a reputation second to none of his
contemporaries in public-school football. He played for the College
1st XV in three successive seasons, during which he was not once
"crocked," nor did he miss a single match. His success in football was
an illustration of how a resolute will can triumph over a hampering
physical defect.
In the autumn of 1913 he was offered a house scholarship, which would
have meant residence in one of the boarding-houses. Without
hesitation he declined what was at once an honour and a privilege,
preferring to remain a day-boy. He dearly loved his home, and his
opinion was that the advantages of public-school training were much
enhanced when combined with home life. His custom was to ride to the
College on his bicycle in the morning, stay there for dinner and
return home in the evening between 6 and 7 o'clock, the hours
following afternoon school being devoted to games, the gymnasium, or
some other form of physical training.
In 1914 he was elected Captain of the 1st XV. No distinction he ever
won--and there were many--gratified him more. In a great public school
the duties that devolve on a captain of football are laborious and
responsible. They entail many hours of work weekly, the careful
compilation of lists of players for the numerous school teams, a
vigilant oversight of training and a watchful eye for budding talent.
But Paul loved the work, and love lightens labour. He threw himself
into the duties with all the enthusiasm of his nature. The amount of
time he was devoting to football in September and October made me
doubtful of his ability to carry off a Balliol scholarship in
December. Accordingly I suggested that he might relinquish the
captaincy temporarily, say for a month, so as to allow him freedom to
concentrate on his history reading before the examination. He would
not listen to the suggestion. He said he meant to fulfil the duties of
captain to the uttermost. If this jeopardised his chances for a
scholarship he would be sorry, but whatever the cost he was not going
to fall short in his work as captain of football. In the result he
brought off the double event, winning the scholarship and leading his
team with shining success.
[Illustration: Winning the Mile, March 27, 1915.]
His athletic career culminated at the school sports on March 27,
1915, when he won the mile flat race, the half-mile, and the
steeplechase, and was awarded the silver cup for the best forward in
the 1st XV. He tied for the "Victor Ludorum" shield with his friend
S. J. Hannaford (a versatile athlete reported missing in France,
September, 1917). These successes at the sports were a dazzling
finish to Paul's school days. He bore them, like his scholastic
triumphs, very modestly, but in his heart he was proud and happy. It
was not his nature to plume himself on any achievement. Only once do
I remember his betraying pride in what he had accomplished. It is
the custom in Dulwich to inscribe on the walls of the great hall the
names of boys who distinguish themselves on entering or leaving the
Universities and the Army. In due time the ten Oxford scholars of
1914 were walled. During his first leave from the Army Paul
revisited the old school, and I recollect his telling me that the
names of those who had won scholarships at Oxford had been duly
painted in hall. "My name is placed first," he said with a smile;
adding with emphasis, "and so it ought to be."
It was his hope that his own success would give a stimulus to the
study of history at Dulwich. In 1916, when he learnt that another
Dulwich boy was thinking of preparing for a Balliol scholarship in
history, he wrote to me from France, requesting that his notes,
memoranda, essays and books should be placed at the student's
disposal. He added in reference to a matter on which I had asked his
opinion:
The education you get from a correspondence course is of a kind
which, while useful for acquiring a knowledge of facts, is of
very little value in the development of that culture which is the
first and essential element in obtaining a 'Varsity--above all, a
Balliol--scholarship. If a boy decides to go in for a history
scholarship, the Dulwich authorities ought to provide him with
adequate tutorship as part of his school training. Were the boy
to go to an outside institution, the school would lose part of
the honour gained by the winning of the scholarship. But
remember that no one would have the ghost of a chance for an
Oxford scholarship on the knowledge gained from a correspondence
course taken by itself. Finally, any honour gained by a Dulwich
boy ought to redound to the credit of Dulwich; the school alone
should have the credit of the achievements of its members.
From masters and boys I learnt that my son's influence was specially
marked in his last two years at the College. It was an influence that
was always thrown on the side of what was lovely, pure and of good
report. Frank, free-spirited, open-hearted, his buoyancy and his rich
capacity for laughter diffused an atmosphere of cheerfulness; his
unflagging enthusiasm stimulated interest in athletics; his love of
learning and passion for work were contagious; his high ideals of
conduct helped to set the tone in morals and manners. The qualities he
most prized in boys were courage, purity, veracity. No one loved books
more, but book-learning by itself he placed low on the list. To use
his own words: "It is character and personality that tell." Purity in
deed and thought was with him a constant aspiration. He reverenced the
body as the temple of the Holy Spirit. From the ordeal of the
difficult years between 14 and 16 he emerged like refined gold. A boy
he was
With rosy cheeks
Angelical, keen eye, courageous look,
And conscious step of purity and pride.
His serene and radiant air was witness to a soul at peace with itself.
Things coarse and impure fled from his presence. It was the union in
him of moral elevation with physical courage that explained the secret
of his remarkable influence in school.
At Dulwich the school year is full and various. In addition to the
acquisition of knowledge there is much else to engage a boy's
interest--cricket, football, fives, swimming, the gymnasium, athletic
competitions, the choir; and then those red-letter days--Founder's
Day, with its Greek, French or German play, the Prize Distribution and
the Concerts. Our son bore his share in every phase of this varied
life. He had a warm corner in his heart for the College Mission, which
maintains a home in Walworth for boys without friends or relatives and
enables them to be trained as skilled artisans. The home has
accommodation for twenty-one boys; a married couple look after the
house work, and two old Alleynians are in residence. He never failed
after he left the College to send an annual subscription anonymously
to the Mission funds. An enthusiastic lover of music, he was for years
in the College Choir, singing latterly with the basses.
At the 1913 Founder's Day celebration Paul took a subsidiary part,
that of Fitzwater, in a scene from Shakespeare's _Richard II_, on
which occasion the King was brilliantly impersonated by E. F. Clarke
(killed in action, April, 1917). On the same occasion Paul was one of
the voyageurs in the scenes from _Le Voyage de Monsieur Perrichon_,
his amusing by-play in that modest role sending the junior school into
roars of laughter. At the 1914 celebration of Founder's Day he took
the part of Fluellen in a scene from _Henry V_, and sustained a very
different role, that of Karl der Sieberite, in a scene from Schiller's
_Jungfrau von Orleans_. Reviewing the performances, _The Alleynian_
said of the former: "In this piece Jones was the comedian. He was
clumsy and not quite at home on the boards, but his Welsh was
delightful."
Of his performances as Charles VII in Schiller's play the critic
wrote:
The scene chosen is one of the most powerful scenes in the play.
It is that in which the King, sceptical of the divine
inspiration of the Maid, determines to test her by substituting a
courtier upon his throne.... When she is not only not deceived,
but proceeds also to interpret many of the King's innermost
thoughts, the surprise of the monarch, passing into hushed
reverence, calls for a studied piece of careful acting. H. P. M.
Jones sustained this part, and sustained it well. He gave it the
dignity which it needed, and if his natural gift of physical
stature helped him somewhat, so also did the smooth diction and
easy repose which he had evidently been at pains to acquire.
Of the performance as a whole: "It says a very great deal for the
German in the upper part of the school, that a scene can be enacted in
which both accent and acting can reach so high a level."
The school year at Dulwich always closes with a concert at which the
music, thanks to the competent leadership of Mr. H. V. Doulton, is of
a high order. The solos of the two school songs on 19th December,
1914, were sung by H. P. M. Jones and H. Edkins, both of them Oxford
scholars who have since been killed in action. Edkins, who had a rich
baritone voice, sang the song in praise of Edward Alleyn, the pious
founder. My son, as captain of football, sang the football song, the
first and last verses of which are appended:
Rain and wind and hidden sun,
Wild November weather,
Muddy field and leafless tree
Bare of fur or feather.
Sweeps there be who scorn the game,
On them tons of soot fall!
All Alleynians here declare
Nought like Rugby football.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Broken heads and bleeding shins!
What's the cause for sorrow?
Shut your mouth and grin the more,
Plaster-time to-morrow.
Young or old this shall remain
Still your favourite story:
Fifteen fellows fighting-full,
Out for death or glory.
After each stanza the choir and the whole school rolled in with the
chorus, proclaiming in stentorian voices that "the Blue and Black"
(these being the Dulwich football colours) shall win the day. My wife
and I were present at this concert, and there is a vivid image before
us of our son, a tall, powerful figure in evening dress, standing on
the platform in front of the choir, his eager face now following the
conductor's baton, now glancing at the music-score, now looking in his
forthright way at the audience. The reception that greeted him when he
stepped on to the platform must have thrilled every fibre of his
being; another rapturous outburst of cheers acclaimed him as he
retired to his place in the choir. Those cheers, loud, shrill and
clear, with that poignant note that there often is in boyish voices,
still resound in our ears. We had heard that Paul was popular at
Dulwich: we had ocular and audible testimony of it on this
unforgettable night. Those had not exaggerated who told us that he was
the hero of the school.