GROWTH.
Men say the dreams of twenty-two
The winds of thirty shall undo....
We prove them liars, do we not?
Which of our dreams have we forgot?
--FRANK BETTS.
“At the end of five years’ hard struggle,” writes Dorothea Beale in
1863, “it was pleasant to read in the (Examiner’s) Report: ‘This
examination has convinced us that the plan and working of this
institution are admirable and calculated to supply a growing want
in our community ... that of a real and solid higher education for
ladies’.”
The year 1864 was a turbulent one. The Principal had long been
dissatisfied with the college hours, feeling that they were most
unsatisfactory for teachers and children. The new plan was to have
school from 9.10 a.m. to 1 o’clock, thus increasing the length of
morning school and having no school in the afternoon. This led to a
great outcry in the town. The local papers condemned the innovation.
Teachers who wanted a half-holiday every afternoon were said to be
idle. Parents complained that the children would be on their hands all
the afternoon and they would have to engage governesses. There was
practically war between the local people and the College authorities.
The Council and Dorothea Beale felt very strongly on this matter,
realising indeed that the future of the school probably depended on
the carrying out of their plans. A memorial signed by the shareholders
and others was sent, and the Council replied that the plan would be
tried for one term, at the end of which they would consult the wishes
of the parents. So successful, however, was the scheme that at a
General Meeting held at the end of the time mentioned, only eight
voted in favour of the old régime. As every one knows, the plan which
Dorothea Beale introduced against such strong opposition has since
that time been adopted by every High School, and has in the main made
for a higher standard of work, and better health, both in pupils and
in teachers. A number of children, as a rule, go to school in the
afternoon, but it is chiefly for preparation and lighter lessons, such
as drawing and needlework.
By 1864, under Mr. Brancker’s careful administration, all anxiety about
financial matters had come to an end. The Principal continued, however,
to do much of the teaching herself, and the girls who were there at
this time always reckoned themselves particularly fortunate that they
came so directly under the influence of the Head. In later days this
was, of course, impossible. All the classes were held in the big hall,
but as soon as possible a schoolroom was provided for the lowest
division. Dorothea Beale, as a rule, took her classes there, except
very small ones which she often took in her own private rooms.
The strongholds of prejudice began to crumble. It became easier to
teach Mathematics, Physics, etc., as a little of the old antagonism
began to disappear and the number of the senior girls increased.
About this time she drew up her tabular scheme for learning English
and World History. Many thought this system would bring a new era in
the learning of dates, etc., but it does not seem to have been very
generally adopted.
In these early days at Cheltenham Dorothea Beale was often distressed
by gossip and back-biting. She was always particularly sensitive to
this kind of thing, and her actions were at times subject to the
criticism even of friends. But she gradually learnt to trouble less
about outside adverse opinion, though she would never have been able
to tolerate the least suspicion of criticism and disloyalty within the
school. On one occasion an untrue rumour of a serious nature was set on
foot against one of the boarding-house mistresses. Some in the College
had listened to this rumour and the Principal spoke to the teachers on
the subject.
“Now I have nothing to do to judge them that are without. We must
cheerfully bear evil-speaking. But if it comes 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 disadvantages which would arise to
any children who lived in an atmosphere of evil-speaking, lying, and
slandering.”
More than most Heads, perhaps, Dorothea Beale had the gift of inspiring
loyalty in her staff. As the College grew older the teachers were
largely recruited from Old Girls. Some women there now, no longer
young, have been at the College since childhood. It would be impossible
to mention the number of teachers whose love and devotion to their
Principal did much to ease her work and cheer her spirit. Perhaps
of these none did more for her than the first Head Teacher whom she
herself had trained. This was Miss Belcher, later Head of the great
school at Bedford. She was in many ways of the greatest help to Miss
Beale, not only in practical things but in her spiritual influence.
In addressing the Head Mistresses’ Conference just before her death,
Dorothea Beale spoke of some of the Heads of schools who had been
trained at Cheltenham. Very affectionately she spoke of Miss Belcher,
and told a story of her great loyalty to the College.
Miss Belcher and another teacher, at a time when headships were very
rare, came to her and told her that they had determined to apply for
one. Miss Beale said, “Events are imminent which will shake the College
to its very foundations”. They said, “We shall not apply”.
Her early days at Cheltenham were very full, so much so that her father
wrote in a teasing spirit:--
“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 that 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.”
In 1862 Dorothea Beale had the great sorrow of her father’s death, an
event which left a great blank in her life.
Holidays at this time were spent partly at Cheltenham, partly abroad.
When on the Continent she visited schools and gained new ideas for
her work. For, to her, life and work were one. Nearly everything she
did bore directly or indirectly on the one purpose of her life. It is
impossible to enter into the spirit of her life unless one realises
this singleness of aim. No nun, bound to her vocation by holy vows,
could be more dedicated than was Dorothea Beale to the great work of
education. It was to her the call of the Master to forsake all and
follow Him.
This spirit in her expressed itself in many ways; in her simplicity of
life, which she maintained always. Her way of living was always plain,
as was her style of dress. In later life she dressed more grandly, but
this was forced upon her by others who felt she ought to do so, and
was not the expression of her own wishes. When she went to Cheltenham,
she decided for the sake of her work not to go out in the evenings.
I believe, as a matter of fact, that it was quite easy to keep this
resolution, as Cheltenham society was extremely “exclusive” at that
time, and was not sufficiently assured of the social position of women
teachers to invite them out to anything except perhaps a quiet tea.
Dorothea Beale had very little small talk, and was too quietly
thoughtful to be a great success socially. She was quite content to
go on steadily with her teaching, her careful preparation of lessons,
her painstaking correction of the children’s work, her thoughts and
plans for wider work, all of which were slowly but surely laying the
foundations of a new intellectual world for women. One of the ideas
which she was never able to carry out was that of a Sisterhood of
Teachers, consisting of a band of teachers who should live frugal,
self-denying lives in a Community under a Mother Superior. These should
have no personal possessions, but should live, as nuns do, a life
devoted to their vocation. Later in life she became less anxious for
such a Sisterhood, believing that the inward spirit of consecration
could exist equally well without the outward and visible signs of
devotion.
In our day we urge the necessity of having interests outside our
special calling; to have hobbies, games, or a different kind of work
which will be recreative; to have, as it were, in our brain several
lines of rails to prevent the chief one from getting worn out. But
though we have become more scientific in the management of life the
main fact remains the same, that the work to which we are called is a
stern mistress and will demand our whole-hearted service.
Growth is rarely a painless process, and Dorothea Beale felt that some
of her greatest difficulties began after the College entered on its
period of rapid development. By the year 1871, it had grown too big
for Cambray House, and a site for a new building was purchased for the
sum of £800. This purchase had to be endorsed by the Annual Meeting of
Shareholders in June, but this was considered a mere formality. A good
many shareholders, however, were interested in the Cambray property,
and the meeting decided not to ratify the purchase but to re-sell the
land. This was a great shock to the Council and the Principal, who
knew the need for having bigger and better premises, and the Council
announced their intention of resigning.
A special General Meeting was called for September 30. At this meeting
Dr. Jex-Blake, the Principal of Cheltenham College, who was in the
chair, pleaded most eloquently the cause of the Ladies’ College. I will
quote part of his speech as showing something of the esteem in which
the College was held at this date.
“Teachers so able and energetic and successful,” said he, “have a
right to the greatest consideration and the very best arrangements
for teaching. A Ladies’ College so distinguished, second to none in
England, has a right to every advantage that can be secured for it:
a right to be lodged in a building of its own: a building perfect
in its internal arrangements, and outwardly of some architectural
attractiveness: one that should be a College and should look like a
College.”
At this meeting those who desired extension carried the day, and soon
the erection of the new buildings was begun. On Lady Day, 1873, the
College moved into the new building. So quietly and unobtrusively was
this done, that hardly a single half-hour of lessons was lost. Many
extensions followed, including the addition of art and music wings,
and kindergarten rooms. Those who were at the College in those days
were familiar with the continual noise of building; in 1882 it ceased:
“after this the sound of the hammer was not heard for nearly four
years.” Dorothea Beale’s policy of building was a sound one: it was
to plan for extensions long before they were necessary, but to build
little by little as the premises were needed and money was ready for
the purpose.
About this time many questions arose that had to be settled once
and for all. One was whether the College was to be simply a local
day school, or an institution for the furthering of women’s higher
education generally: another was the government of the College and
the defining of the Principal’s powers: a third was whether the
boarding-houses should become an intrinsic part of the College. Around
all these questions storms arose and the Principal began to feel that
in leaving Cambray House she had left behind her peace and happiness.
The College was finally incorporated under the Companies’ Acts, and the
government of it revised and radically altered. The Principal’s powers
were more clearly defined, and the Council decided to take over full
responsibility for the boarding-houses.
About this last decision she wrote to her friend, Miss Arnold, the
headmistress of the Truro High School:--
“I think I told you that after many years, I have prevailed upon our
Council to take the whole risk of the boarding-houses--the pecuniary
risk is of course very great, and in case of war or sudden depression
I don’t exactly see how we should meet it, but one must have risks and
we find the moral risks of not taking pecuniary ones so great that we
decided for the latter--and indeed we had to pay pretty considerable
sums in law expenses and to get rid of unjust claims too. We could
not _prove_ that these ladies had not lost money, if they said they
had--and if they were bad managers they did perhaps lose--and an outcry
was raised that we ruined poor ladies.”
Of her attitude towards a Principal’s position and powers, part of a
letter from Miss Buss to Miss Ridley gives some idea.
“I had a long and grave talk with Miss Beale, who counsels fight, but
not on any personal ground. She says: ‘Resign if there is interference
with the mistress’s liberty of action. That is a public question and
one of public interest.’ She was so good and loving: she was so tender:
and she is so wise and calm. She told me some of her own worries and
said that sometimes she quivered in every nerve at her own Council
meetings.”
At the end of these various controversies it was realised that the
College could not be a merely local institution, but had a great future
before it, and was destined to play a very important part in the higher
education of women from every part of the country.
I must not close this chapter without giving a brief account of the
much-loved Cambray House, in which the Ladies’ College started. For a
time after the College left it was a boys’ school, but in 1889, Miss
Beale had the chance of re-purchasing it for £2,000 and using it as a
boarding-house and overflow school for girls awaiting admission to the
College. In 1895 it was enlarged, and in 1897 the Principal, by Deed of
Gift, made it over to the College, though she still ran it on her own
account. Not until 1906 was it actually reckoned part of the College.
This is only one of the many instances of how Dorothea Beale spent or
invested her own money for the growth and welfare of the College.