IN the belief, I suppose, that old age is given to garrulity, and delights in dreams of the days departed, the Editor has asked me to write some "Reminiscences " for The Tollingtonian, and as editors' requests, however politely expressed, are equivalent to commands, I must try to give substance to some of the impressions of the past, in the hope both of reviving pleasant memories in the older of my readers, and of acquainting the younger with what it seems fitting they should know.
Reminiscences ! Of what?
I cannot conceal from myself the fact that when, close upon thirty-three years ago, I first set foot in Tollington Park College, I had already attained my educational majority, having behind me twenty-one years of arduous and successful work in the scholastic profession, and I have, of. course, many reminiscences. of that long period of educational experience. But these would be of no-particular interest to my present readers, and therefore I must shut them up in the limbo of forgetfulness, and begin with the year 1883.
It: was a great change for me to pass from a large boarding school situated in a country town, and containing from seventy to eighty boarders, seasoned with a small sprinkling of day pupils, to a day school in outer London of 206 boys, of whom little more than the odd half-dozen were boarders. I have always preferred large numbers to small, and I never spent a drearier time in my life than the six months which it was once my misfortune to pass in a very small school. It was an exhilaration to me, therefore, to stand on the first morning of term in September 1883 before a packed company of the full School, in order to be introduced as the newly arrived Vice-Principal. And it did not take me long to recognise one aspect of school life which has always been a noteworthy characteristic of Tollington - viz. the delightful air of good fellowship and genuine interest which existed between Principal and staff on the one hand, and the boys on the other. There was an esprit de corps and a degree of loyalty to the school which I had thought could hardly be possible in a day school, where the opportunities for intercourse were almost limited to the school hours of five days in the week instead of being, as would be the case in a boarding school, continuous for periods of three months at a stretch. I had thought that we had excellently in this respect in my previous experience, but I found that Tollington surpassed even that.

The TPC of the “eighties” was a very different institution from the tollington School of today. To begin with, classrooms were almost unknown; just off the large schoolroom there was one little room, which was known as the classroom, and whose walls, while they could have borne eloquent testimony to the valiant struggles of many a youngster with the intricacies of the First Book of Caesar, must have become very tired of hearing so many times that "all Gaul is divided into three parts," and that " there was one route left through the coun-try of the Sequani. " This little room alone secured the needful quiet for such concentration of thought as was required for the highest classes, and yet even here it was too often only half the room that was available for such purposes, as another Latin class was being taught in the other half. In those days, too, Latin was compulsory throughout the School from the Third Form upwards.
All the other work was done in the large room, and it can easily be imagined under what drawbacks, notwithstanding the strictest vigilance which was constantly being exercised by W. B., as the Founder of the School was affectionately termed by everybody, including himself !
Fancy, six forms all being taught simultaneously in one big room, and no escape from this except by an occasional excursion into the class-room. So closely packed were the classes that it was not always easy to see where one class ended and the next began. Intolerable as the conditions were, it should be noted that some of the chief offenders in the matter of unnecessary talking so far aided in the effort to lessen the noise as sometimes to put on their desk in front of themselves a small notice : " Don't talk."
But, in spite of all, the conditions were bad, though I suppose I felt it more than most, as I had come from the luxurious experience of large rooms, each devoted to a single class. It was with no surprise, therefore, that I heard of a contemplated extension by the erection of another room at the side, large enough to hold the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Forms. This was a great improvement, but even here I remember again and again having to shout myself hoarse to get the second and third rows of boys to hear what I was telling the first row about some one of Shakespeare's characters, or some intricate point in English etymology.
The next step was a most important one, seeing- that it enabled five more rooms to be added for class accommodation, and for the first time the Sixth Form was located in a sacred domain of its own, never afterwards to lose that distinction. This change was brought about by the removal of Mr. Brown and his family from No. 49 to No. 53, Tol-lington Park, so that the whole of the two houses, Nos. 49 and 51, became available for school purposes. Thus the classes were gradually becoming isolated from one another. Meanwhile, the numbers in attendance were rapidly growing until about the " nineties," when they passed beyond the total of 400. Before this number was reached, however, another very great enlargement was carried out by the addition of an upper schoolroom, the creation of a proper " Chemmie Lab.," and the sub-division of the two large rooms by means of movable glass partitions. This gave almost all the separation of classes that the efficiency of the School required. But, oh ! the pains and penalties we suffered while the building operations were going on. The whole of the roof had to be lifted bodily and a new storey placed beneath it.
Much of this was done in term time, and the noise of hammering and the dust and dirt of brick-laying and plastering were sometimes almost too much for human endurance, and great was the rejoicing when we saw the last relics of the builders cleared away.
But it is time to say something of the curriculum and of such efforts as were made to promote the social life of the School. Much time has always been devoted to mathe-matics, and the School has, throughout its history, stood well in that respect. I remember the pride with which Mr. Brown showed me the neat way in which, through his constant supervision, the exercise books used for this purpose were kept. But there was scarcely anything in the way of science teaching in the School as I first knew it; the two sciences of zoology and chemistry were, however, quickly got into full swing so far as the conditions permitted, and a certain amount of physics was added later. Some of our chief School distinctions in the public examinations came in these directions, and the foundation was laid of a reputation for successful science teaching which the School has ever since maintained. In connexion with the science work I recall the consternation with which, two days before the examination, we learned that, for each of the candidates entered for practical chemistry, we were required ourselves to supply a complete set of apparatus and reagents, though we had calmly assumed that these would be provided by the examining body. There was a great rush, therefore, a great making of solutions and filling and labelling of bottles, and a sitting over this far into the night before the proper equipment was provided.
As the late Mr. Brown and I were both enthusiastically fond of music, singing always took a prominent place in the School, and we certainly had, in the earliest days especially, some very fine voices. Who that ever heard them can forget the delightful tones of A. E. Snashall and Walter Bruun, to say nothing of hosts of others? On one occasion, at a prize distribution, there were performances by an orchestra composed almost entirely of Old Boys, and it was hoped that such an institution might become a permanent one.
Educationally, the great event of the year was the College of Preceptors' Examination, which was then taken during the summer term, so that the results were able to be an-nounced before, or at least by, the last day of term. The whole of the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Forms were entered, and the number of candidates was so large that there was not sufficient accommodation for this in addition to the ordinary work of the rest of the School, and the nearest centre was at the Holloway Hall, in Holloway Road. On the first day of the examination all the candidates assembled in good time at the School, from which they marched in long procession two abreast, down to the Holloway Hall, and one can imagine the excitement in what was then the comparatively quiet thoroughfare of Tollington Park, as this long string of boys filed by, mostly with looks of confidence on their faces.
In those days there was no such thing as a gymnasium attached to the School, and, of course, the more modern institutions of Cadets and Scouts had not been inaugurated) the weekly drill was perfunctory and hated, and altogether the opportunities for physical development were of the slightest. A series of iron rings depending- from the roof of the covered playground gave opportunity for the muscular development of the arms by hand-over-hand progression, monkey fashion, from one side of the place to the other; while fully appreciated by those engaged in it, this exercise incurred the maledictions of whoever happened to be taking a class immediately above, as the running accompaniment of clanking iron was hardly helpful to teaching.
In the earliest days football, for the most part, consisted of kicking a ball about promiscuously, in recess time or after morning school, on a piece of waste land at the end of Turle Road, which had not yet come into the builders' hands; but there was also an opportunity on Saturday afternoons for those so disposed to play a game in one of the meadows off Park Road, in what is now known as the " Playing Fields." It was a pleasant country walk to this field, through the fine avenue of elm trees that then adorned Crouch Hill, and past the fields of Crouch Hill and the fine old mansion known as Crouch Hall, which was then still standing, though untenanted. This arrangement, I believe, did not last long, as it was largely dependent upon the enthusiasm of one of the junior masters, Mr. Woodcock, who was not long with us. Of cricket there was nothing beyond irregular play in Finsbury Park, and that was ultimately dropped. There could be no swimming till the opening of the Hornsey Road Baths, and for some years there were no athletic sports, and when the latter were started I well remem-ber the discussions that took place as to whether it would be proper for the competitors to appear in shorts.
But the great day of the year from this point of view was the Fifth of November, on the night of which the playground was thronged with an excited crowd of boys, who brought with them fireworks of all descriptions, while round the walls were fixed rockets and set pieces which were fired to the intense delight of the immediate spectators, though, perhaps, one could not say quite so much for the neighbours in the houses adjoining. It was, indeed, a pandemonium, and was not always unattended with minor accidents. On one occasion a boy had a number of crackers in his pocket when a spark fell into the midst of them, creating a series of detonations which were no less startling to the boy himself than to the onlookers, who were, of course, ready with all sorts of suggestions as to what was best to be done. On another occasion I remember being constantly accompanied as I moved about among the crowd with the smell of some burning fabric; this went on for some time before I discovered that it emanated from myself. A spark had lodged on my hat and set it smouldering, so that I had been unconsciously posing as a sort of living lighthouse, though not a very brilliant one. The protests of neighbours proved at last too strong, and this carnival had to be abandoned.
But I must hurry on.
I come now to the great tragedy in the history of the School, the death of its Founder, which came upon us with startling suddenness in February I895. Well do I remember the laying down of the straw in the street, the interview with the surgeon specialist who was to perform the operation, and the long watch as I sat by the fire in the basement on the Sunday evening till the end came. Well do I remember, too, that terribly cold, grey Monday morning when, with one or two members of the staff, I stood out in Tollington Park to intercept the boys on their way to school, tell them the mournful news, and send them home until further notice. It was the beginning of one of the longest frosts of modern times, which lasted for ten weeks without a break, and during this time the water-pipes in the houses were frozen, so that water for household purposes could be obtained only from taps set up on the hydrants in the streets. And this chilly aspect of Nature corresponded to the feeling in many hearts that all the warmth had gone out of their life with the early death of one who had been so good a friend to them, and who had literally sacrificed his life in the interests of education. The funeral service was held at St. Mark's, Tollington Park; all the boys - and many old boys, too - were in attendance, and the tokens of general respect were such as have not often been seen in that neighbourhood.
Ultimately our present Head undertook to carry on the School in partnership with myself, an arrangement which lasted for another twelve years. One of our earliest steps was to inaugurate a properly equipped gymnasium, and to include gymnastics in the curriculum. Cricket and football also received a little more attention, the colours for the latter being claret and white; it was Mr. Newlyn who suggested that this should be changed to our present colours, green and gold. A field was obtained at the end of Nightingale Lane, and here many an inter-esting struggle took place, and for the first time we felt ourselves strong enough to challenge other clubs. For two or three years previously there had been exhibitions of various kinds of work executed by the boys, either in school or in pursuit of their hob-bies; the form of these was now modified, and a series of annual conversaziones was held, at which there were not only exhibits of work done by the boys, but also various kinds of scientific demonstrations, and these became so popular and attracted so much attention that they led to the introduction of somewhat similar functions at the College of Preceptors. In carry ng out these enter-tainments we received very great assistance, most cheerfully rendered, from many of our old boys, and it is scarcely too much to say that without their valued and loyal co-opera-tion the conversaziones could not have been carried through. Another source of attraction was the annual Gymnastic Display, held in the Great Hall of the Northern Polytechnic. This same building also now saw our annual Prize Distribution and Concert, which for many years previously had been held in the Holloway Hall. The annual Sports were now held either at Tufnell Park,, or at the fine ground at Wood Green, now, alas ! no more.
As evidence that, amidst these improve-ments on the physical side, the educational side was not neglected, it may be added that, as a result of an exhibit of details of our work, which were sent to the great International Educational Exhibition held at Paris in the year 1900, the School gained the distinction of a Diploma and a Bronze Medal.
Meanwhile, it was becoming evident to the Principals that they had to contend with a difficulty to which schools in London are specially liable - viz. the change in the char-acter of a neighbourhood. There was a tendency which had recently set in for the population of Stroud Green to move outward, and especially to the newly founded suburb of Muswell Hill. The parents of our present and prospective pupils were affected by this, and the character of the neighbourhood was changing for the worse.
Many found it difficult, if not impossible, to continue to support the School on account of the distance to which they had moved. This naturally gave rise to much anxious thought and deliberation, and finally it was resolved to open a branch School at Muswell Hill. As it was desirable that knowledge of the intended new departure should not prematurely leak out, there were many secret visits of inspection to various sites at Muswell Hill, and, after much investigation from back and front, as far as could be done without exciting suspicion, the present site was selected. In front there were tall Lombardy poplars, and behind, where the playground now is, there was a wooded hollow, which was evidently the remains of an ancient quarry.
As both these sets of trees would have interfered with the plans, they had to be sacrificed, and the hollow was filled up to the present level. The foundation stone of the new building was laid by Sir George Bartley, who had always been a good friend to the School, and had presided at many prize distributions.
The new branch made an excellent start, and grew so rapidly that it soon outstripped the parent tree and became a parent itself, producing a daughter, which we trust will have as reputable a history as the parent from which it sprang.
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