at the Royal Albert Hall Celebrating 450 years of Harrow School
Tuesday 22 November 2022
John Batting ( The Park 19722) CHAIRMAN OF THE HARROW GOVERNORS
James Blunt ( Elmfield 19873) MASTER OF CEREMONIES
Timothy Bentinck MBE ( Moretons 19663) PRESIDE NT OF THE HARROW ASSOCIATION GUEST OF HO N OUR
PLEASE REMEMBER TO SWITCH OFF YOUR MOBILE PHONES AND NOTE THAT FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY IS NOT PERMITTED DURING THE PERFORMANCE.
“These Songs play a wonderful part. They shine through the memories of men and far and wide throughout the world in which we live. They cheer and enlighten us. They breed a bond of unity between those who have lived here and I think that they are, on the whole, the most precious inheritance of all Harrovians.”
SIR WINSTON CHURCHILL (The Head Master’s 18882) HARROW SCHOOL 1941
1940–62 Rt Hon Winston Churchill 1963–66 Lady Churchill
1967 Baroness Spencer-Churchill of Chartwell 1968 Rt Hon Harold Macmillan 1969 Rt Hon Sir Alec Douglas-Home 1970 Rt Hon Edward Heath 1971 Baroness Spencer-Churchill of Chartwell 1972 Rt Hon the Lord Butler of Saffron Walden 1973 Rt Hon the Lord Carrington 1974* Baroness Spencer-Churchill of Chartwell 1975 Rt Hon Julian Amery MP 1976 Rt Hon the Lady Soames 1977 Sir John Colville 1978 Anthony Grant Esq MP 1979 Rt Hon Sir Keith Joseph MP 1980 Rt Hon the Lord Soames of Fletching 1981 Rt Hon Michael Heseltine MP 1982 Rt Hon the Lord Hailsham of St Marylebone 1983 Rt Hon Margaret Thatcher MP 1984 HM King Hussein of Jordan 1985 Rt Hon the Lord Charteris of Amisfield 1986 HM Queen Elizabeth II and HRH The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh 1987 HRH The Duke of Kent and HRH The Duchess of Kent 1988 Rt Hon the Lord Callaghan of Cardiff 1989 Rt Hon the Lord Jenkins of Hillhead 1990* Rt Hon the Lady Soames DBE (in the presence of HM Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother) 1991 Rt Hon Douglas Hurd
1992 General Sir Peter de la Billière 1993 The Honourable Raymond Seitz 1994 Lord Deedes 1995 Sir Leon Brittan 1996 The Crown Prince of Jordan, Prince El Hassan 1997 Sir Robin Butler 1998 Rt Hon the Lady Soames DBE 1999 Viscount Montgomery of Alamein 2000* Rt Hon the Lady Soames DBE 2001 General the Lord Guthrie of Craigiebank GCB LVO OBE 2002 Sir Jeremy Greenstock GCMG 2003 Ms Rebecca Stevens 2004 Sir Martin Gilbert 2005 Lady Williams of Elvel 2006 Robert Hardy Esq
2007* Lord Butler of Brockwell KG GCB CVO 2008 Peter Clarke CVO OBE QPM 2009 Andrew Roberts Esq
2010 HRH Prince El Hassan bin Talal of Jordan 2011 Professor Christopher Andrew 2012* Dr Nicholas Patrick 2013 The Honourable Celia Sandys 2014 General The Lord Dannatt GCB CBE MC 2015 Sir Clive Woodward OBE 2016 Allen Packwood OBE
2017* HRH Prince El Hassan bin Talal of Jordan
2018 General Sir Tim Granville Chapman 2019 Major General (Retd) Andrew Sharpe CBD PhD
2020 Lord Dobbs of Wylye
2021 Mark Sedwill, Baron Sedwill of Sherborne, KCMG FRGS FIoD
*At the Royal Albert Hall
It is a great pleasure for me to welcome everyone to this evening’s very special Churchill Songs. This is the seventh time the School has celebrated Songs and Churchill in this magnificent setting of the Royal Albert Hall. The first time we came here was for the centenary of Churchill’s birth in 1974 which, memorably for me, came midway through my time as a boy at Harrow.
Churchill Songs is all the more special this year, featuring as one of the highpoints in this 450th anniversary year. It is astonishing how far the School has travelled over those centuries, from our Founder’s original plan for a small plot and classroom around Bill Yard to John Lyon’s Foundation as it is today, encompassing both Harrow School and John Lyon School, as well as John Lyon’s Charity and the Harrow International Schools around the world.
The reach of our Foundation is now wide, and growing wider, as we seek to deliver our vision of providing inspiring education and life-enhancing opportunities for young people. Whether it be through our schools and their bursary programmes, or through the extraordinary work that John Lyon’s Charity carries out for young people in London, John Lyon and his wife Joan would, I think, be pleased to see what their original act of generosity has developed into over the last 450 years.
While this 450th anniversary year has given us the opportunity to refound our future, it has also provided some wonderful moments to celebrate our long heritage, and it has involved all the pupils, all teaching and non-teaching staff, many parents and Old Harrovians, as well as many of our neighbours in the community around the Hill.
On behalf of everyone, I would like to thank the Royal Albert Hall for finding a date for us in our 450th anniversary year and welcoming us here this evening to sing our songs. The songs of Bowen, Farmer and their successors have a unique power to unite Old Harrovians, wherever and whenever they meet around the world, and I very much hope that everyone will enjoy Songs tonight and this opportunity to celebrate together.
John Batting ( The Park 19722) CHAIRMAN OF THE HARROW GOVERNORSTHIS BEAUTIFUL BOOK is a visual biography of Harrow School. From its founding to the present day, photographer Will Cooper takes us on a journey that delves deep into Harrow’s archives and collections, buildings and traditions. We visit the quieter corners of the School, rediscover familiar friends, uncover the unknown and travel through time to enjoy rarely seen artefacts from the School’s collections.
From Byron’s slippers to Churchill’s letters, from the Fourth Form Room to Lyon’s, these stunning photographs make up a unique record of 450 years of Harrow School.
BY WILLIAM COOPER
It is with great pride but also a sense of humility and honour that the School comes together every five years in the Royal Albert Hall: pride in our tradition and our identity, humility as we acknowledge that the School today is part of something much larger, and honour for Churchill and what his enduring legacy in service and leadership represents.
As tightly woven into the essence of Harrow as the straw in our hats, Songs in Houses, Songs in Speech Room, Songs in gatherings around the world, Songs are in the warp and weft of the fabric and enduring success of Harrow – our fellowship. Songs are the ties that bind and are part of the silver cord of continuity from new Shell boy through distinguished Old Harrovian and on to Giants of Old beyond.
Churchill Songs originated when Old Harrovian Sir Jock Colville (private secretary to the great man) heard the prime minister singing St. Joles in the bath and thought that, in the sterner days of late 1940, he would be cheered by going back to the Hill and singing Harrow songs with the boys. He contacted the Head Master and, within three months, in December 1940, Churchill (accompanied by Old Harrovian members of his cabinet and administration) returned to Harrow. A year later, on his second visit to the School during wartime, Churchill referred, from the stage in Speech Room, to songs as “the most precious inheritance of all Harrovians”.
The annual tradition of Churchill Songs was born.
450 has been a splendid anniversary to celebrate this year. We have been lavish in recognising what we have been, and surprised and delighted by what we have discovered in ourselves and our relationships locally, nationally and globally. It is fitting that John Lyon’s Foundation (Harrow School, John Lyon’s Charity, John Lyon School and the Harrow International Schools) has become prominent this year, as all of us look to the enduring inspirational example of our Founder in continuing to commit ourselves resolutely to providing inspiring education and life-enhancing opportunities for young people.
This year, too, we commemorate Her Late Majesty The Queen Elizabeth II, three-times visitor to the School, with a piece of new writing, and we will look forward loyally with unalloyed support for His Majesty King Charles III.
Let Songs begin and fill us with conviction for the years ahead.
91 not out! John Mitchell Fine Paintings have been dealing in traditional British and European paintings for over ninety years and can offer advice on the acquisition, sale, conservation and framing of paintings, and their valuation for probate, insurance, CGT and other purposes. Our family shares in the celebrations of Harrow’s 450th anniversary, and we look forward to welcoming all Old Harrovians and their families to our Mayfair gallery, where a fine selection of historic prints and drawings of the School can be viewed.
Timothy (Moretons 19663) studied Modern Languages at Harrow, then History of Art at the University of East Anglia. He trained at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School and has been a professional actor since 1978.
In that year he won the Carleton Hobbs Radio Award and joined the BBC Radio Repertory Company, which led to him being cast as David Archer in The Archers in 1982. Forty years on, he is still to be heard driving tractors and coping with Ambridge village life.
He has played leading roles in film, television, theatre and radio and is a voiceover and dubbing specialist with a huge range of vocal styles and accents.
As himself, he has won Celebrity Mastermind, Pointless Celebrities, University Challenge – The Professionals and beat Judith Kepple in a head-to-head in Celebrity Eggheads. He was also the voice of Mind The Gap on the Piccadilly Line for 12 years.
From the swashbuckling Tom Lacey in the 1980s’ series By the Sword Divided to starring with David Jason in The Royal Bodyguard, television credits include The Thick of It, Sharpe, Twenty Twelve, The Last Post, Dracula, D-Day, The Politician’s Husband, EastEnders, Lucan, Gangsta Granny and The Game. Recent TV appearances include The Crown, Flack, Gentleman Jack and The Nevers. Movies include North Sea Hijack, Enigma, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Theatre includes Pirates of Penzance at Drury Lane, Arcadia and Educating Rita
He is also a musician, travel journalist, inventor, computer programmer, website designer, house renovator and author. His autobiography Being David Archer – And Other Unusual Ways of Earning a Living was published in 2017.
He sat as a crossbencher in the House of Lords for four years and was awarded an MBE for Services to Drama in 2018.
His wife Judy is a leading hat designer and they have two sons, William (Moretons 19973) and Jasper.
James Blunt (neé Blount) (Elmfield 19873) is an English singer, songwriter and musician signed to Atlantic Records. A former reconnaissance officer in the Life Guards, he served under NATO during the 1999 Kosovo War, and stood guard at the vigil for The Queen Mother in 2002.
After leaving the army, he rose to fame in 2004 with the release of his debut album Back to Bedlam, achieving worldwide fame with the singles ‘You’re Beautiful’ and ‘Goodbye My Lover’ Back to Bedlam was the best-selling album of the 2000s in the UK and is one of the best-selling albums in UK chart history.
James has gone on to sell over 25 million albums worldwide and has received several awards, including two Brits, two MTV Awards, and two Ivor Novellos, as well as five Grammy Award nominations.
In 2016, he was awarded an Honorary Doctorate for Music from the University of Bristol. He has a publishing deal with Little Brown Book and has recently published his first book, How To Be A Complete and Utter Blunt. James has just finished his seventh world tour, performing in both the Royal Albert Hall and Wembley Arena. He is currently recording his eighth album.
Much has been written, in its 450th year, about the founding of Harrow School (first given this name by the Governors in 1703).
The roots of some of the School’s distinguishing features and customs go almost as deep; many others are of more recent, and sometimes surprising, origin.
Looking north up Church Hill, c. 1840s.
Thomas Wood; lithograph, printed by Hullmandel & Walton
Although John Lyon died in 1592, work did not start on building the first schoolroom until after the death of his wife Joan in 1608. It was not completed until 1615 and, after that, no other significant School buildings were constructed until the addition of the east wing to the original schoolroom in 1819. This new wing contained form rooms, a library and the first Speech Room (now the Old Speech Room Gallery).
Work on the first School Chapel began in 1839, but it was not until 1857 that another building specifically for the purpose of academic teaching was constructed. New Schools was built on the site of the old Dancing School, which the Dancing Master had been given permission to build, at his own expense, in the 1760s when dancing was considered a more important part of a gentleman’s education than many academic subjects. When New Schools opened, boys discovered that by tying the handles of two doors together, you could trap the inmates of two form rooms inside.
The first House built with the purpose of boarding boys was probably Church Hill, which was erected in 1846 by Mr Middlemist near the site of the War Memorial Building. Bradbys was the first of Harrow’s current Houses designed specifically for boarding – The Head Master’s, Druries, Moretons, The Grove, The Park and West Acre were existing private houses that were remodelled, extended and in some cases, as they seemed to be prone to burning down, rebuilt. Bradbys was constructed in 1848 by the Rev H Keary.
The first pupil has traditionally been recognised as Macharie Wildblood, the son of the Vicar of St Mary’s Church and a Governor of the School. Macharie’s name was registered, and mysteriously later crossed out, on 7 August 1615.
John Lyon’s 1591 statutes allowed for boys other than the ‘30 poor scholars’ recorded on the charter to be educated at his school. These ‘foreigners’ had to pay for their tuition and accommodation. The first foreigner for whom there is a record and is one Hammond Claxton in 1630. He was probably a relative of Edward Claxton, who was a Governor from 1638 to 1654. The first foreigner of whom anything is known is William Baxter, who arrived from the Welsh borders in 1668. It is said that he spoke only Welsh when he came to the School, but he is recorded as later saying that ‘he first heard the Muses at Harrow’.
Macharie Wildblood was the first registered pupil.
William Launce was a 27-year-old MA of Trinity College, Cambridge, and a man of no particular distinction, when he was appointed the first Master of the Free Grammar School of John Lyon in 1615. William’s younger brother, Thomas, was appointed as Usher, a second teacher, so beginning a tradition of Masters ‘keeping it in the family’ that continued into the 19th century.
In the interim between Joan Lyon’s death in 1608 and the official opening of the Free Grammar School in 1615, however, a precursor school, also funded by John Lyon, existed, probably located in a building that once stood in what is now part of St Mary’s Churchyard.
Sometime after Joan Lyon died, the Governors elected ‘a schoolmaster at the free schole’. The man who could therefore be considered Harrow’s first Master, Anthony Rate, had been a tutor in the Gerard family, members of which were instrumental in helping John Lyon obtain his royal charter.
In 1650, as the School had grown larger, the Head Master, William Hide, organised for poor children in Harrow and surrounding villages to be taught to read in English by ‘Dames’ appointed by the Governors. In the same year, he secured funds from the Governors to pay a ‘Writing Master’. Although he was not the first one
to be employed, the first Writing Master of whom there is a record is Henry Reeves, who was appointed in 1748. One of his sons, also Henry, succeeded him as Writing Master and was appointed the first official School Librarian in 1802.
In the School’s early years, Latin and Greek were the only subjects that could be taught. During the 18th century, this limited curriculum was supplemented by teaching in mathematics, history and modern languages, and accomplishments such as dancing, drawing and fencing, which had come to be considered an indispensable part of an aspiring gentleman’s education. These subjects had to be taught outside the prescribed timetable, and boys had to pay extra for them. The first teachers were people unconnected with the School. Later, School-appointed ‘Extra Masters’ were employed in their place, although they were still paid directly by pupils. In 1819, Jacob Marillier was employed expressly to teach mathematics; the first science Master, George Griffiths, was appointed in 1867. Eventually, in 1869, the Modern Side was established, giving boys the choice between following the traditional classical route by joining the Classical Side (considered appropriate for the brightest boys), or the Modern Side, where the main subjects were history, mathematics, modern languages and natural science. The first Head of the Modern Side was Edward Bowen, lyricist of many Harrow songs.
It is not clear when ‘technology’ was first introduced to Harrow. Plans for the new Physics School, which opened in 1971, included, according to a report in The Harrovian, an area ‘where computer, project and “technology” rooms have their being’. The first ‘microprocessor’ was eventually introduced into the School in 1979.
On Speech Day in 1981, the Head Master, Michael Hoban, announced plans for ‘the introduction into our curriculum of education on a wider scale in the use of microprocessors; of the creation of a commodious audiovisual room for general use; of the establishment of a media centre to feed the various departments and to keep their individual pieces of equipment in good trim’. In 2017 Dr Chris Crowe was made the first Head of Computer Studies.
The destruction by fire of the Head Master’s House, 1838 Thomas Wood; engraved by J C Oldmeadow, printed by W Clerk
The first foreigners who attended the School were probably housed by local families. In 1650, William Hide was allowed by the Governors to lease a house instead of living in his quarters in the Schoolhouse. It is probable that he moved to this larger house so that he could supplement his income by charging some of these foreigners for board and lodging. Boys were certainly boarding with the Master when, in 1670, William Horne, was given an increased allowance by the Governors specifically for the purpose of setting up the house to accommodate them. The house, which was burnt down in 1838, stood on the same site as The Head Master’s now does. For many decades, boys boarded in houses known as Dames Houses and in houses owned or rented by Assistant Masters, who earned the bulk of their income in this way. In 1885, the School set up the Harrow Park Trust to buy The Park from its Master-owner and eventually all the principal Houses came into the School’s hands.
From as early as the 1650s, boys were encouraged to display their proficiency in Latin by giving speeches in the language, often on festive occasions. The chief orator was likely to have been the ‘Janitor’ (probably the senior Monitor), and he would probably have received payment for his efforts. The first record of the occasion that came to be known as Contio Latina was in 1674, when a boy named John Dennis gave an ‘oration’ at the Governors’ annual audit meeting. Dennis went on to take a Founder’s Exhibition at Cambridge (from where he was sent down for sword fighting) and later became a minor poet, playwright and literary critic. The first Contiones were delivered by the boys who were the most proficient at Latin; it was not until the 19th century that it became the duty of the Head of School.
Archery was one of the few physical activities prescribed by John Lyon’s statutes of 1591. It does not seem to have been a sport that boys took part in with any special enthusiasm until, in 1678, the Governors ordered new archery butts to be provided for the ‘execution of the Founder’s wishes’ at a site nearer the School than the old ones. In 1684, a retired diplomat living in Harrow, Sir Gilbert Talbot, presented a prize of a silver arrow, for which six, and sometimes, 12 boys, in costumes amounting to fancy dress, competed annually. This competition became a highlight of the School year, with boys taking a month off schoolwork to practise. It seems to have been so significant that, in 1750 Head Master Thomas Thackeray adopted the crossed arrows as a School badge and subsequently added it to the lion on the School crest. The competition was held annually from 1697 until 1771, when the event is said to have become unacceptably rowdy and the Head Master, Dr Heath, unwilling to allow the boys to devote so much time to practising. In its place, Dr Heath instituted not one but three Speech Days, in May, June and July. These involved senior boys declaiming Greek or Latin oratorical monologues, or occasionally extracts from the Aeneid and, later, Shakespeare. In 1820, the reading of prizewinning essays and compositions was introduced, probably the forerunner of the handing out of prizes today. Speech Days were reduced to two in 1829 and one in 1844.
Musician John Farmer was first employed, and paid, by boys from Harrow’s Musical Society in 1862. At the time, music was regarded with a degree of suspicion by the School but, in 1864, Farmer was eventually appointed School Organist and Instructor in Music by Head Master Montagu Butler, and conducted the first-ever concert given by boys in a School building. Farmer encouraged the participation of all boys in massed singing sessions and persuaded the House Masters to let him come into the Houses for evening singing parties. Grove Hill and Moretons were the first to welcome him. The first Harrow song written by a Master was Io Triumphe. The first song with English lyrics, Willow the King, was written by Edward Bowen 1867.
What could be considered the first Churchill Songs took place when Sir Winston Churchill attended Songs in 1940. He returned the following year and these ‘Songs visits’ continued annually almost until the end of his life. Today, Churchill Songs is held every year in his memory. The Glees and Twelves competition also seems to have been established soon after John Farmer’s arrival. The Harrovian of 27 May 1871 records: ‘The successful House in the glee singing was again the Rev. Dr. Butler’s, after a close contest with Mr. Hayward’s House. For the best set of twelve voices, Mr. Hayward’s House easily carried off the palm’.
The Musical Society c. 1858
Today’s School dress has its roots in sportswear. Until the middle of 19th century, Harrovians wore the ordinary costume of the time. In the 1850s, most boys had adopted the combination of a tailcoat, black waistcoat, striped trousers, black tie and a type of top hat known as a beaver, with any variation frowned upon as “swagger”; younger boys wore coats without tails. The straw hat seems to have originated in a hat worn for cricket in the 1820s, and it had become common as summer wear during the 1830s; sometime in the 1860s, it became the preferred weekday headgear. By 1881, some boys had adopted grey flannel trousers to wear with their tails at cricket, and by 1888 they had come into general use, along with a blue jacket that had been introduced during the 1880s for games. By 1900, there were two distinct styles of dress: formal School dress and the greyers and bluer combination, known as half-change. During the First World War, bluers and greyers with a white shirt, black tie and straw hat were first adopted as standard School dress for reasons of economy. After the war, the difficulty in obtaining straw meant that compulsory wearing of the hat fell temporarily into abeyance, much to the concern of many boys. The Harrovian of 23 October 1946 included a poem in its honour:
Pride of our Hill, once gracing every head, How art thou fallen since the days of yore! The waste of frolic, scarcity and war Conspire to make thee all but gone and dead. Once thou wert Harrow, it could well be said: And Herga’s sons could then be known for sure By the faint mark that ‘neath their crowns they bore. What will now serve to make them known instead?
The loyalties we learned upon the Hill, The spirit of good friendship and fair play, The things that matter – all are with us still, Though their straw symbol’s nearly passed away. With a straight bat we’ll yet play a straight game; Hats or no hats, we’ll go on just the same.
1572
WE ARE MOST GRATEFUL TO THE FOLLOWING ORGANISATIONS WHO HAVE SUPPORTED THIS PERFORMANCE OF CHURCHILL SONGS AT THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL AS PATRONS
Conductor
Mr Neil Palmer
Flute Felix Bamford Hadrian Ho Eric Li Vinsson Li Andre Ma Leo Mazrani Hugh Mercer Wong Ray Moon Oscar Wickham
Oboe Thomas Hobbs Jaden Odofin
Clarinet Sinan Basak Brian Ching Miss Angela Crispe Alex Kim David Liu Ben Shailer Alex Sheng Aidan So Miss Janet Spotswood Maxim van Aeken Mark Zeng Daniel Zhou Kevin Zhu
Bassoon Viren Bhaika Miss Rachel Edmonds Hans Patel Miss Julia Staniforth
Saxophone
Dante Doros Nikita Evlanchik-Kutepov Charlie Griffin Danton Liu-Evans Benjamin Wu
Trumpet Bradley Leong Mr John MacDomnic Harry Morse Rio Odofin Keir Parker-Delves Sam Phillips Ethan Soong
French Horn Marcus Chau Mr James Palmer Henry Woodcock Tim Yu
Trombone Man Herman Hong Adham Karsou-Mubarak Mr Mike Lloyd Mr Michael Tasker Philip Truscott Freddie Williams
Tuba Mr Martin Jarvis Bass James McWilliam
Percussion Aidan Au Keith Au-Yeung Bertie Bradley Mr Stephen Gibson Baba Obatoyinbo
Conductor
Mr David Woodcock
Violin
Julian Chan* Gabriel Cheng Anson Ching Rocco Desai Felix Doan Jackie Guo Enhe Hu John Kwong Yuk-Chiu Lai* Andy Law Joseph Li Mark Liu Ryan Loo Arun Mattu Jaden Odofin Andrew Park
John Pedersen* Felix Regnard-Weinrabe Benjamin Wu Richard Zhao
*(Co-leader)
Viola Mr Dimitar Burov Spencer Chan Nicholas Tam
Cello Larry Cao Brian Chang Alexander Chow John Chow Francois de Robert Hautequere Kieran Leung Henry Macdonald Henry Song
Double bass Andrew Arthur Mr Simon Benson Wesley Leong James McWilliam
Flute Hadrian Ho Andre Ma Ray Moon Oscar Wickham
Oboe Dawei Sun Clarinet Brian Ching Alex Sheng Aidan So Miss Janet Spotswood Miss Angela Crispe
Bassoon Hans Patel Miss Rachel Edmonds Miss Julia Staniforth
French Horn Marcus Chau Mr James Palmer Henry Woodcock Tim Yu
Trumpet
Mr John MacDomnic Mr Neil Palmer Keir Parker-Delves
Omar Ait El Caid
Rowland Eveleigh Rory Grant Joseph McLean Jasper Smallwood-Martin
THE SCHOOL XII
Omar Ait El Caid Francois de Robert Hautequere Daniel Eldridge Rowland Eveleigh Sean Jarrett Marcos Kantaris
Max Morgan Edwin Oh Henry Ridley Jiho Ro Maxim Van Aeken Henry Woodcock
Trombone Man Herman Hong Mr Mike Lloyd Mr Michael Tasker Philip Truscott
Tuba Mr Martin Jarvis Percussion Cyrus Chang Mr Stephen Gibson Michael Guo Rupert Lam Max Morgan Baba Obatoyinbo Piano Hadrian Ho Mr Chris Tolman Organ Mr Philip Evans
Hadrian Ho Fergus McKie Sebastian Murray Henry Woodcock
Stet Fortuna Domus Giants
Five Hundred Faces (Soloist: Inigo Cleeve, Lyon’s) Song of the Forwards “Here Sir”! Songs (School XII) Three Yards St. Joles Ducker
A Gentleman’s a-bowling Queen Elizabeth sat one day Byron lay (School XII) October
John Lyon’s Road Home to the Hill
When Raleigh rose Left! Right!
The Silver Arrow Good Night (School XII) Forty Years On Auld Lang Syne National Anthem
Pray, charge your glasses gentlemen, And drink to Harrow’s honour, May Fortune still attend the Hill, And Glory rest upon her!
The world outside is wondrous wide, But here the world is narrow, One magic thrall unites us all The name and fame of Harrow.
Forgotten cheers are in our ears, Again we play our matches, And memory swells with wizard spells Our bygone scores and catches: Again we rush across the slush A pack of breathless faces And charge and fall, and see the ball Fly whizzing through the bases.
To-night we praise the former days In patriotic chorus, And celebrate the Good and Great Who trod the Hill before us; Where Sheridan and Peel began, In days of Whig and Tory, Where Ashley vow’d to serve the Crowd, And Byron woke to glory.
The following verse was written for Sir Winston Churchill.
Nor less we praise in sterner days The leader of our nation, And CHURCHILL'S name shall win acclaim from each new generation. While in this fight to guard the Right Our country you defend, Sir. Here grim and gay we mean to stay, And stick it to the end, Sir.
So once again your glasses drain, And may we long continue From Harrow School to rise and rule By heart and brain and sinew. And as the roll of Honour’s Scroll Page after page is written, May Harrow give the names that live In Great and Greater Britain!
1874
There were wonderful giants of old, you know, There were wonderful giants of old; They grew more mightily, all of a row, Than ever was heard or told; All of them stood their six feet four, And they threw to a hundred yards or more, And never were lame or stiff or sore; And we, compared to the days of yore, Are cast in a pigmy mould.
For all of we, Whoever we be, Come short of the giants of old, you see.
There were splendid cricketers then, you know, There were splendid cricketers then; The littlest drove for a mile or so, And the tallest drove for ten: With Lang to bowl and Hankey to play, Wenn and Walker to score and stay, –And two that I know, but may not say –But we are a pitiful race of clay, And never will score again.
For all of we etc.
There were scholars of marvellous force, you know, There were scholars of marvellous force; They never put μή when they should put ού And the circle they squared, of course. With Blayds and Merivale, Hope, Monro, Ridley and Hawkins, years ago, –And one that I rather think I know –But we are heavy and dull and slow, And growing duller and worse;
For all of we etc.
But I think all this is a lie, you know, I think all this is a lie; For the hero-race may come and go But doesn’t exactly die!
For the match we lose and win it again, And a Balliol comes to us now and then, And if we are dwarfing in bat and pen, Down to the last of the Harrow men, We will know the reason why!
For all of we, Whoever we be, Come up to the giants of old, you see.
Five hundred faces, and all so strange! Life in front of me – home behind. I felt like a waif before the wind Tossed on an ocean of shock and change. Yet the time may come, as the years go by, When your heart will thrill
At the thought of the Hill, And the day that you came so strange and shy.
Inigo Cleeve)A quarter to seven! there goes the bell! The sleet is driving against the pane; But woe to the sluggard who turns again And sleeps not wisely but all too well!
Yet the time may come, as the years go by, When your heart will thrill
At the thought of the Hill, And the pitiless bell with its piercing cry.
Nothing but proses and reps and con! O for the future when I’m a man, With no more Virgil to learn and scan, And no one to say to me, “Please go on!”
Yet the time may come, as the years go by, When your heart will thrill
At the thought of the Hill, And the proses so long, and the con so dry.
“Raining in torrents again,” they say; The field is a slippery, miry marsh; But duty is duty, though sometimes harsh, And “footer” is “footer”, whatever the day!
Yet the time may come, as the years go by, When your heart will thrill
At the thought of the Hill, And the slippery fields and the raining sky.
Five hundred faces alive with glee! Trials are over; the term is done, With all its glory and toil and fun; And boyhood’s a dream of the past for me!
Yet the time may come, though you scarce know why, When your eyes will fill At the thought of the Hill, And the wild regret of the last good bye!
The threes they may stand in a graceful alignment, The back may be shivering cold: But forwards know none of such dainty refinement Eternally rolling and rolled. Shove, Shove, Shove, Shove, And mind you are up and the first down to do it, Shove, Shove, Shove, Shove, Get down and get under, and heel or go through it.
Here’s wishing ’em strong, and here’s wishing ’em lusty, Of speed and of courage no lack: Each man in position, and all of ’em trusty, All eight as one man in attack.
Feet, Feet, Feet, Feet, one rush and together, let drive and let fly, Feet, Feet, Feet, Feet, and back up the leader and go for the try.
Now Nature has given you five useful senses; You’ll find you need all in the scrum: But pray for a sixth, for attack, like defence, is A gift not to all but to some.
Break, Break, Break, Break, their half has cut through, and their threes overlap: Break, Break, Break, Break, away to the corner, and fill up the gap.
Play up! Does it matter who wins or who loses? Play up, and play hard all the same: There’s plenty of bumps, and there’s plenty of bruises: They’ll teach you much more than a game.
On, On, On, On, take strength and good temper and courage and speed –
On, On, On, On, they’re not a bad outfit for life and its need.
Like an ancient river flowing From the mountain to the sea, So we follow, coming, going To the wider Life to be On our course From the source To the wider Life to be!
Here sir! Here sir! Here sir! Here sir!
On the top of Harrow Hill, Here sir! Here sir! Here sir! Here sir!
In the windy yard at Bill.
Is it nought – our long procession, Father, brother, friend and son, As we step in quick succession, Cap and pass and hurry on?
One and all At the call, Cap and pass and hurry on? Here sir! Here sir! etc.
One by one – and as they name us, Forth we go from boyhood’s rule, Sworn to be renown’d and famous For the honour of the School: True as steel, In our zeal, For the honour of the School. Here sir! Here sir! etc.
So to-day – and oh! if ever Duty’s voice is ringing clear Bidding men to brave endeavour Be our answer “We are here!”
Come what will, Good or ill, We will answer “We are here!”
Here sir! Here sir! etc.
How does the song come, Whence up swell, Whence on the tongue come, Playmates, tell! Say, from the waste time Chance sounds grow, Throats’ idle pastime? No, no, no! While ’mid the breezes Life breathes free, Ere trouble freezes Youth’s blue sea, ’Mid hopes attendant, Play, work, home, Surging, resplendent So songs come!
Where does the song go, While words fly, Somewhere along go, Somewhere die? Say, into far land Sound waves flow, Lost in the star land? No, no, no!
Songs, where the thought was, If aught true, If tender aught was, There hide too; Down in the chamber Hearts hold deep, Cradled in amber So songs sleep!
Can yet the song live, Once more come, Voiceful and strong live, Now all dumb? Say, will it slumber, Faint, thin, low, Years not to number? No, no, no!
When droops the boldest, When hope flies, When hearts are coldest, Dead songs rise; Young voices sound still, Bright thoughts thrive, Friends press around still So songs live!
O sweet is the sing of a volley!
O sweet is the grip of a catch! And sweet is the fourer that settles The fate of a wavering match! But “yards” at the end of a dribble Is sweetest and best of the batch.
Give yards to him! yards! can you take it? Three yards! Well given! well taken! well kicked!
When you had the toil and the tussle, The batter of ankle and shin, ’Tis hard in the moment of triumph
To pass it another to win; But that is the luck of the battle, And thick must be taken with thin. Give yards to him! yards! etc.
They tell us the world is a scrimmage, And life is a difficult run, Where often a brother shall finish A victor y we have begun. What matter, we learnt it at Harrow, And that was the way that we won. Give yards to him! yards! etc.
When time was young and the school was new (King James had painted it bright and blue), In sport or study, in grief or joy, St. Joles was the friend of the lazy boy. He helped when the lesson at noon was said, He helped when the Bishop was fast in bed; For the Bishop of course was master then, And Bishops get up at the stroke of ten.
St. Joles hooray, and St. Joles hooroo, Mark my word if it don’t come true; In sport or study, in grief or joy, St. Joles is the friend of the lazy boy.
If an a was possibly short or long, St. Joles would whisper it right (or wrong); If ever an e provoked a doubt, St Joles’s Lexicon helped it out; Perhaps it wasn’t in page and print, But it hinted a probable friendly hint; And often indeed, if I must confess, It was like to a sort of a kind of guess.
St. Joles hooray etc.
But there came a morning of fear and dread, When the Bishop was up, and the Saint in bed, And all the boys, from bottom to top, Instead of bishop, pronounced bishóp! –– However the guilty class might try, They lengthened o and they shortened i; And the Bishop with righteous anger flames; And off he went, and he told King James.
St. Joles hooray etc.
O then, King James, in his wrath and ire, Degraded St. Joles to Joles Esquire; And now to punish the awful crime They get up at seven in winter time; And oft the vowels in prose and song St. Joles’s Lexicon tells you wrong; And if you believe me, down at play, There’s always fog on St. Joles’s day.
St. Joles hooray etc.
READING Wet-Day Afternoon
See the summer sun is glowing, And the fields are cracked with heat, Not a breath of air is going In the hot and dusty street. This is not a day to swelter, Toss your book and pen away! Ducker is the only shelter, Ducker is the place to-day.
Come away, come away, Come away! O come away! To the splashing and the spray! Come away! O come away!
Ducker is the place to-day
O the joy of being idle And heroically slack! Would you always wear a bridle With a burden on your back? Truce awhile to toil and tasking, Dream away the hours with us, With a bun and towel basking Puris naturalibus!
Come away etc.
There we’ll duck and race and rollick And as merry we shall be As the porpoises that frolic In the billows of the sea.
O the effervescing tingle How it rushes in the veins! Till the water seems to mingle With the pulses and the brains.
Come away etc.
When the afternoon is over And the evening brings the breeze, And the sunset glories hover Round the steeple and the trees, In the twilight as the shadows Come to meet us o’er the plain, We will wander through the meadows Up the Hill and home again.
Come away etc.
O cabby, trot him faster, O hurry engine, on! Come, glory or disaster, Before the day be done! Ten thousand folks are strolling And streaming into view; A gentleman’s a-bowling (More accurately, two).
With changes and with chances The innings come and go, Alternating advances Of ecstasy and woe; For now ’tis all condoling, And now, for who can tell? A gentleman’s a bowling It yet may all be well.
Light Blue are nimbly fielding, And scarce a hit can pass; But those the willows wielding Have played on Harrow grass. And there’s the ball a rolling, And all the people see A gentleman’s a bowling And we’re a hitting he!
Ten score to make, or yield her! Shall Eton save the match?
Bowl, bowler! go it, fielder! Catch, wicket keeper, catch! Our vain attempts controlling They drive the leather – no! A gentleman’s a bowling, And down the wickets go.
And now that all is ended, Were I the Queen to day, I’d make a marquis splendid Of every one of they! And still for their consoling, I’ll cheer and cheer again The gentleman a bowling, And all the other ten!
Queen Elizabeth sat one day, Watching her mariners rich and gay, And there were the Tilbury guns at play, And there was the bold sea rover; Up comes Lyon, so brisk and free, Makes his bow, and he says, says he, “Gracious Queen of the land and sea, From Tilbury fort to Dover –”
Queen Elizabeth sat one day, Watching her mariners rich and gay And there were the Tilbury guns at play, And there was the bold sea rover
“Marry, come up,” says good Queen Bess, “Draw it shorter and prose it less; Speeches are things we chiefly bless When once we have got them over: SPENSER carries you well along, And the SWAN OF AVON is rich in song –Still, we have sometimes found them long, I and the bold sea rover!”
Queen Elizabeth etc.
“Queen,” he says, “I have got in store, A beautiful school from roof to door; And I have a farm of acres four, And a meadow of grass and clover; So may it please you, good Queen B., Give me a charter, firm and free; For there is Harrow, and this is me, And that is the bold sea rover!”
Queen Elizabeth etc.
“Bad little boys,” says she, “at school Want a teacher to rede and rule; Train a dunce, and you find a fool –Cattle must have their drover: By my halidome, I propose You be teacher of verse and prose –(What’s a halidome, no one knows, Even the bold sea rover!)”
Queen Elizabeth etc.
“And this is my charter, firm and free, This is my royal, great decree –Hits to the rail shall count for three, And six when fairly over: And if any one comes and makes a fuss, Send the radical off to us, And I will tell him I choose it thus, And so will the bold sea rover!”
Queen Elizabeth etc.
Byron lay, lazily lay, Hid from lesson and game away, Dreaming poetry, all alone, Up a-top of the Peachey stone. All in a fury enters Drury, Sets him grammar and Virgil due; Poets shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have, Poets shouldn’t have work to do.
Peel stood, steadily stood, Just by the name in the carven wood, Reading rapidly, all at ease, Pages out of Demosthenes.
“Where has he got to? Tell him not to!” All the scholars who hear him, cry; “That’s the lesson for, lesson for, lesson for, That’s the lesson for next July!”
Peel could never, you needs must own, Rhyme one rhyme on the Peachey stone; Byron never his task have said, Under the panel where PEEL is read, “Even a goose’s brain has uses –” Cricketing comrades argued thus –“Will they ever be, ever be, ever be, Will they ever be boys like us?”
Byron lay, solemnly lay, Dying for freedom, far away; Peel stood up on the famous floor, Ruled the people, and fed the poor; None so narrow the range of Harrow; Welcome poet and statesman too; Doer and dreamer, dreamer, dreamer, Doer and dreamer, dream and do!
OctoberE E BOWEN J FARMER 1879The months are met with their crownlets on, As Julius Caesar crowned them; With slaves, the gentlemen thirty-one, And the ladies thirty, round them. But who shall be monarch of all? you ask; Go ask of the boys and maidens, For that is the lads’ and the lasses’ task, And they choose him afar in cadence.
October! October! March to the dull and sober! The suns of May for the schoolgirls’ play, But give to the boys October!
“I vote for March, may it please you,” cries A student pale and meagre; “He gives us theme and lesson and prize, And scholarship O so eager!”
But louder now in the distance floats A choice there is no disguising; And you hear from two and twenty throats The chaunt of the boys uprising.
October etc.
“For May! For May!” the girls all say, “How mild the air that blows is! How nicely sweet the soft spring day, How sweetly nice the roses!”
But girl and scholar may pray and plead –The voice of the lads is clearer, And forty and four are the feet that tread, In time to the music, nearer!
October etc.
October brings the cold weather down, When the wind and the rain continue; He nerves the limbs that are lazy grown, And braces the languid sinew; So while we have voices and lungs to cheer, And the winter frost before us, Come sing to the king of the mortal year, And thunder him out in chorus!
October etc.
When Lyon walked the Hill, I ween, He saw our church and steeple, And looked on many a league of green, With here and there a farm between, And scarcely any people; “I’ll build,” quoth he, as he looked down, “A road to far-off London town.”
And build he did: the roadway came, And Harrow link’d to London, A path for those that sought a name, A link with fortune and with fame
That never should be undone: And many a foot has worn the road From School to life that Lyon showed.
And does it bring us any gains, Now London’s here and round us, And gives us trams and cars and ‘planes And ‘buses and electric trains
To carry and confound us; Arterial roads where’er one roams, And quite a lot of aerodromes?
The Hill’s grey spire still greets the day, The old road still goes winding: And if the houses all the way No touch of ancient days betray, The secret’s there for finding: On Lyon’s road is always Spring For souls that go a-journeying.
We welcome home again all ranks of Harrow men, this room to fill.
There will be space found here for those from far and near, New and old friends sincere, Home to the Hill, Home to the Hill, Home to the Hill.
Those from the deepest shires, from shades of dreaming spires, all of good will.
Lairds from the Keltic lands, those from Arabia’s sands, Now let us all join hands, Home on the Hill, Home on the Hill, Home on the Hill.
Friends cosmopolitan, those metropolitan, Londoners still.
Those from across the sea, new land of liberty Re-live your old esprit, Home on the Hill, Home on the Hill, Home on the Hill.
Memory must compel grey beards to newest Shell: Answer this Bill!
One fam’ly spread world-wide, which time cannot divide, One thought may ever guide, Home to the Hill, Home to the Hill, Home to the Hill.
When Raleigh rose to fight the foes, We sprang to work and will; When glory gave to Drake the wave, She gave to us the Hill. The ages drift in rolling tide, But high shall float the morn A-down the stream of England’s pride, When Drake and we were born!
For we began when he began, Our times are one; His glory thus shall circle us Till time be done.
The Avon bears to endless years A magic voice along, Where Shakespeare strayed in Stratford’s shade, And waked the world to song. We heard the music soft and wild, We thrilled to pulses new; The winds that reared the Avon’s child Were Herga’s nurses too.
For we began etc.
Guard, guard it well, where Sidney fell, The poet-soldier’s grave, Thy life shall roll, O royal soul, In other hearts as brave. While thought to wisdom wins the gay, While strength upholds the free, Are we the sons of yesterday, Or heirs of thine and thee?
For we began etc.
Young Brown he was a little boy and barely four foot four, But his manly bosom burned to join the Harrow Rifle Corps. So he went to see the Serjeant and he made a grand salute, And he said, says he, “I want to be a Volunteer Recruit.”
Left! Right! Left! Right! Left! Left!
O the H.S.O.T.C.
’ Tis a gallant sight to see, As they swing along so gaily with the Band; With the trumpets blowing proud, And the big drum beating loud, There is not another finer in the Land! With the trumpets blowing proud, And the big drum beating loud, There is not another finer in the Land!
But the Serjeant shook his martial head, and shed a martial tear, “You’ll have to go away and grow and come another year.” So off he went with grim intent, and did his best and grew, And when the year was over he was nearly five foot two.
Left! Right! etc.
Then they stuck him in a uniform, and made him learn his drill, And double hard about the Yard, and up and down the Hill. “Now by my troth,” the Serjeant quoth, “If little Brown could grow He’d make the smartest officer that ever you did know.” Left! Right! etc.
And grow he did: and on the Range so well he practised up, A “bull” he got, with every shot, and won the Spencer Cup. And when he tried for Sandhurst, he was sure as fate to pass, For wasn’t he a member of the Harrow Army Class?
Left! Right! etc.
And now he’s in a Regiment a-fighting for the Crown, And soon he’ll be a K.C.B. and Major-General Brown. So listen all, both great and small, and may there be some more To rally round to the bugle-sound, and join the Rifle Corps!
Left! Right! etc.
These lines are sung by the School XII
I sing the praise of the olden days, When yeoman and burghers knew In the arrow’s flight was the Nation’s might, Our strength in the bended yew. In the Baron’s hall there was sport for all, Tourney, and revel and laugh, And many a bout had the henchmen stout With cudgel and quarterstaff.
The book is read, and the prayers are said, Then all to the butts repair, The men are seen in the jerkin green, And the maidens are watching there. Full well they know no foreign foe Our shores will dare invade, With pikemen bold our walls to hold, And archers in every glade.
Their spirit to day is dead, men say Dead as their stalwart frames Their blood now runs in idler sons, Loving less manly games, Can this be truth? Arise, our Youth, Rise in your strength, and show By word and by deed, ye are worthy seed Of your Sires who drew the bow.
The following verse was written in honour of the School’s 450th anniversary by Lord Robin, Andrew and Calum Butler
While we sing the praise of the olden days We also prepare for the new. In our work and our games we are bold in our aims Our arrows fly straight and true. In good times and ill while we stand on our hill Our nation need harbour no fears. We’ll serve to the last as we have for the past Four hundred and fifty years.
Good night! Ten o’clock is nearing; Lights from Hampstead, many, fewer, more, Fainter, fuller, vanishing, appearing, Flash and float a friendly greeting o’er; Read them, read them, Ere the slumber come; Goodwill speed them Here across the gloom; All good comes to those who read aright; See they are twinkling, Good night!
Good night! How they dart anigh thee Bright glad rays for repetition known; If the task be crabbed and defy thee, How they blink a sympathetic groan!
Wit acuter
Guesses free and fast Tyrant tutor Placable at last Such the blessings sparkle to the sight; Take them and answer, Good night!
Good night! What shall follow after? Wish great play, and vigour ever new, Wish for race and merriment and laughter Hampstead lights must surely wish it too! Luck befriend thee, From the very toss; See, they send thee, Victory across; Speed the ball, and animate the fight: So, till the morning, Good night!
Good night! Sleep, and so may ever Lights half seen across a murky lea, Child of hope, and courage, and endeavour, Gleam a voiceless benison on thee!
Youth be bearer, Soon of hardihood: Life be fairer, Loyaller to good; Till the far lamps vanish into light, Rest in the dream-time. Good night!
Forty years on, when afar and asunder Parted are those who are singing to-day, When you look back, and forgetfully wonder What you were like in your work and your play, Then, it may be, there will often come o’er you, Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song –Visions of boyhood shall float them before you, Echoes of dreamland shall bear them a-long.
Follow up! Follow up! Follow up!
Follow up! Follow up!
Till the field ring again and again, With the tramp of the twenty-two men.
Follow up! Follow up!
Routs and discomfitures, rushes and rallies, Bases attempted, and rescued, and won, Strife without anger, and art without malice, –How will it seem to you, forty years on? Then, you will say, not a feverish minute Strained the weak heart and the wavering knee, Never the battle raged hottest, but in it, Neither the last nor the faintest, were we!
Follow up! etc
*O the great days, in the distance enchanted, Days of fresh air, in the rain and the sun, How we rejoiced as we struggled and panted –Hardly believable, forty years on! How we discoursed of them, one with another, Auguring triumph, or balancing fate, Loved the ally with the heart of a brother, Hated the foe with a playing at hate!
Follow up! etc.
Forty years on, growing older and older, Shorter in wind, as in memory long, Feeble of foot, and rheumatic of shoulder, What will it help you that once you were strong? God give us bases to guard or beleaguer, Games to play out, whether earnest or fun; Fights for the fearless, and goals for the eager, Twenty, and thirty, and forty years on!
Follow up! etc
The following verse was written for Sir Winston Churchill.
Blazoned in honour! For each generation You kindled courage to stand and to stay; You led our fathers to fight for the nation, Called ‘Follow up’ and yourself showed the way. We who were born in the calm after thunder Cherish our freedom to think and to do; If in our turn we forgetfully wonder, Yet we’ll remember we owe it to you.
Follow up! etc.
* This verse is sung by members of the Harrow Association
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The boy drummed his fingers against the long wooden table. The sky was disappointingly blue, only a few feeble clouds floating shyly above the Hill. His one role on this bright March morning of 1957 was entirely and frustratingly reliant on the Wet-Day Programme galvanising itself into action. He was desperate for the clouds to roll together with thick grey anger, for fast drops of rain to spill their fury onto the clean white stones of the Memorial Steps. He looked up again from his solitary position in the Alex Fitch Room. That one cloud on which he had been pinning all his hopes had vanished, drifting nonchalantly no doubt towards Ruislip.
The Fine-Day Programme was going ahead. And so he would remain alone in the Alex Fitch Room, with no Queen, no Duke, no Countess, no Major, no Squadron Leader: no one would be visiting this room which he had been charged to keep empty of visitors and boys just in case the weather turned, and Her Majesty’s visit had to re-route itself. Outside, the Royal Guard took their position, the heavy tramp of their feet mingling with the fast chatter of the local residents who had flocked here for the occasion. The boy allowed himself a brief smile as he remembered how he had watched the armsdrill rehearsal, leaning out of the window from his room in The Head Master’s. He was too little and too young to join, being only in his first year. But maybe it was for the best; he wasn’t sure he’d have managed to muster that look they all had of stern patient cheerfulness.
Even the sun was taunting him, it seemed, shining brightly through the stained-glass windows of the Alex Fitch Room. The wood panelling was lit up in a rainbow of colour, even the stone of the ancient fireplace quivering with expectation. But it was the noise that truly signalled the arrival of the Queen. As the Royal car came to a stop outside Druries, the babble of conversation exploded
into a choir of cheers, the High Street alive and lined with people. The boy had a good view from up here, he reasoned, even if the saddle bars of the bay window obstructed the line of his vision. He could make out the awning with its red carpet laid out, the neat army berets of the boys lining the path, the splashes of colour painted by the vibrant academic hoods of the masters. And then the Queen. She walked slowly, making her way up towards the School Yard, flanked by the Guard of Honour. She wore a dark velvet coat, three rows of pearls just visible at her collar, and a small white Juliette cap positioned above the crown of her head like a soft coronet. A pale jewelled flower decorated her lapel and a handbag of black leather rested over her wrist, its lines sharp and neat like a miniature school satchel.
As she disappeared out of his view, the boy stepped back with a sigh. He looked up, the sun still streaming through the polychromatic patterns of the window.
Another queen stood in the glass, her figure fixed in time, her skirts pressed in yellow and orange and blue, a high ruff encircling her jewelled red hair. He had never really looked at her before, Queen Elizabeth I granting the royal charter to John Lyon in 1572. In the panel next to her, John Lyon knelt before his Queen, reaching out for the scroll, his blue coat shimmering in the liquid light. As the boy gazed up at the window, he felt as though time was shifting and dancing around him, two monarchs gifting their interest in his little world.
The crowd outside was stirring, the throngs of visitors moving on to where they might next spy the Queen on her tour. It seemed that the Fine-Day Programme would continue its relentless schedule. The boy lifted himself up on to the old wooden table and folded his arms. Another blending of time, he thought, as his feet bounced against this table that had survived since the reign of King James I. There were many other boys stationed like him today, he consoled himself, instructed to wait inside on the chance the weather might change. In the Small-ball courts, the Gymnasium, the Workshops, the Art Schools, even in the Science Schools where a dead porpoise waited to be dissected at Her Majesty’s pleasure: they all had a role to play.
But there really was no chance of rain now. He might just make it down to the School Farm and back again before anyone noticed he had gone. He swung his legs awkwardly, his shoes barely reaching the ground. He should be there, really, showing off the Farm to his Queen. Especially considering all those mornings this term he had fed the chickens and cleaned the glass milk bottles. Suddenly determined, he sprang forward onto the mottled wooden floorboards and ran down the narrow stairs, his
feet light as he sprinted out of the War Memorial, weaving his way through the crowds. He dashed down Football Lane, charged onwards by the Ducker fields, nearly skidded in a puddle of mud, and then, finally, arrived at the School Farm just in time to see Her Majesty and Prince Philip admiring the deep-litter house. A stern glance from a Monitor stationed outside the piggery dulled his speed and so he lingered out of sight behind the milking parlour.
The Queen turned and looked back up towards the Hill. The boy followed her gaze, blinking as he took in the expanse of green playing fields, the line of boarding Houses, the Butler Museum, the Vaughan Library, the double spires of Chapel and St Mary’s. He was just 14 years old. It was hard to imagine how this view might change over the next 40, 50, 65 years. Would he still be able to charge across playing fields at the age of 80, he found himself wondering? Perhaps it wouldn’t matter. Perhaps he might live every one of his days without worrying whether it would be a Wet-Day or a Fine-Day; perhaps he would learn to find purpose in the rain and in the sun, in the spotlight or behind the scenes. Perhaps, he thought as he started to jog back up towards his station in the Alex Fitch Room, he would learn that service is not always about being seen, or in applause, or a wave from a queen.
He sprinted back up the steps into the Fitch Room. All was well. The room was quiet. He settled back down at the table, spreading his hands along the surface. A beam of sunlight found the stained-glass window, illuminating the blue of John Lyon’s coat and the red of his stockings. The boy reached out his arm until it was patterned with dappled light: shadows danced across his skin. He thought of the boys moving in clockwork rhythm around the Hill in the company of Queen Elizabeth II. But he stayed here, waiting, while light spun around him, the gold and blue of Queen Elizabeth I and her servant, John Lyon.
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Harrow’s collection of schools songs is unique. It is one of the characteristics, along with the Hill itself, Harrow football and hats, that makes Harrow distinctive. The songs appeal to a fundamental human emotion: the pleasure of singing together. ‘Throat’s idle pastime? No, no, no!’ wrote Edward Bowen, the architect of this wonderful tradition. Like eating and drinking, dancing and playing games, community singing is enjoyable and our songs create a bond between Harrovians and their fellows and the Hill, which ‘never can be undone’.
Before the public-school boom of the mid-19th century, music had played little or no part in school life; boys were subjected to a relentless diet of classical texts, leavened only by afternoons of football and cricket. One of the ways in which the more enlightened head masters of this era sought to encourage in their pupils a sense of pride in their alma mater was the singing of a school song or songs.
As Latin was the lingua franca of the classroom, it is no surprise to find that these songs were mostly in Latin, for example Carmen Etonense, Winchester’s Dulce Domum, Floreat Rugbeia and Carmen Carthusianum Io Triumphe, written in 1864 by Brooke Westwood, House Master of Grove Hill (later Rendalls), who became Bishop of Durham, is a hymn of praise of the School (Herga being Harrow, and “Io triumphe” being the shout of the victorious legions returning to Rome). It might have become the ‘School song’ – although it lacks the gravitas – had it not been for the later acclaim of Forty Years On Harrow’s collection of school songs stems from the brilliant collaboration of Edward Bowen, sometime House Master of The Grove, and John Farmer, ‘organist and
instructor in music’, encouraged by Head Master, Montagu Butler, who can be credited with inventing “Harrovianism”, the idea that boys and Old Boys become irrevocably attached to their school.
Songs are sung in Houses about twice a term. Traditions vary from House to House: several have their own House Songs, but ‘put-ons’ are usually a feature. Groups of boys are ‘put on’ to sing particular verses as directed by the master of ceremonies, the Head of House.
For the new boy, House Songs must seem bafflingly weird and to have to sing a solo – the first four lines of the March of the Men of Harlech – both inexplicable and embarrassing. Why not Five Hundred Faces? Ah, that is reserved for just three soloists a year in front of the whole School: for Churchill Songs, Harrow Association Songs and Speech Day. ‘And the time will come as the years go by, when your heart will thrill at the thought of the Hill. . .’ And it does. Old Harrovians gather all over the world to dine and sing. ‘Pray charge your glasses, gentlemen and drink to Harrow’s honour...’ I have attended Songs in places as widely spread as Hong Kong, Cape Town and New York.
Perhaps, it is the organic nature of the collection that ensures its continuity. To the modern ear, the lyrics of many of the older songs seem dated: Boy! is all about fagging, a long-extinct practice, and only those who learned their mathematics a long time ago know what Euclid is all about, but these songs, although sung less frequently, have a charm, nonetheless. Meanwhile, new kids appear on the block. Home to the Hill, written by Tom Wickson and Richard Walker, has become very popular.
Special occasions have often inspired special songs or verses. When Sir Stanley Jackson’s (The Head Master’s 18843) XI won the 1888 match at Lord’s, Head Master James Welldon commissioned Bowen to write a song about it – and gave him three days off school in which to do it. When Head Master Cyril Norwood wanted to boost the newly adopted rugby football, he wrote The Song of the Forwards. These two songs are regularly sung but The Centenarian, written to celebrate the centenary of Speech Room, and Donorum Dei for the 50th anniversary of John Farmer
The mystery is how Harrow’s rich collection of songs has survived where those of other schools have died. The answer must lie in their quality. Bowen and Farmer had able successors. Edmund Howson nearly matched Bowen in the way in which he caught the spirit of School life. And although Bowen feared that the flow might stop when Farmer left, his successor, Eaton Faning (Ducker, Here Sir!, Stet Fortuna Domus and Left! Right!) added some beautiful tunes. Percy Buck, longer in post but less prolific, wrote the music for George Townsend Warner’s heart-rending solo about the Boer War, You?, and The Silver Arrow. Another distinguished composer, Reginald Thatcher, only at Harrow for nine years, wrote John Lyon’s Road and The Song of the Forwards. The tradition has continued.
The modern Song Book contains over 50 songs, many more than can be sung on a regular basis. It is perhaps unfortunate that the old favourites, Ducker, Raleigh, The Silver Arrow, Queen Elizabeth, Stet Fortuna and Giants dominate. Add Willow the King and A Gentleman’s a-Bowling for cricketing occasions, The Song of the Forwards for rugby, Three Yards and Plump a Lump for football and there isn’t room for many more.
The popularity of certain songs varies from generation to generation. I confess to being drawn to the best tunes (in my opinion) and so I just love singing Songs, Here Sir!, Grandpapa’s Granpapa and Fairies. A few years ago, I arranged some evenings of ‘forgotten songs’. Although some wag said he could understand why they had been forgotten, we found some hidden gems. I wonder how many of those present this evening know Lyon of Preston, Cats and Dogs and Boy!?
Winston Churchill’s first visit, two excellent songs, are sung rarely and this is regrettable.
On two of the three occasions that Her Late Majesty The Queen Elizabeth II has visited the School, special verses have been written: in 1957 to Queen Elizabeth, and in 1987 to The Silver Arrow. It is appropriate that to mark her Platinum Jubilee and the 450th anniversary of the School’s charter, we shall be singing another special verse of The Silver Arrow, written this time by a distinguished son of Harrow, Robin Butler (Druries 19513) (with a little help from his family).
Finally, a word about Forty Years On, Bowen’s masterpiece, adopted by schools, boys’ and girls’, all over the English-speaking world – even if they don’t know what a ‘base’ is or why you should ‘follow up’. It has become Harrow’s anthem and we stand to sing it. Indeed, I recall an occasion when one of our number collapsed during the song but, like guardsmen on parade, we carried on singing to the end. Fortunately, his condition was not fatal.
Winston Churchill, Harrow’s most famous son, was a great lover of the School’s songs and his visit in 1940 was the first of many, giving rise to this annual celebration of his life, now known as Churchill Songs. The anecdote of the prime minister being heard by his private secretary, Jock Colville, singing St. Joles – the patron saint of the lazy boy – in the bath, has been told many times. In 1955, he wrote of Harrow’s songs, ‘They shine through the memories of men far and wide throughout the world in which we live. They cheer and enlighten us. They breed a bond of unity between those who have lived here and I think they are, on the whole, the most precious inheritance of all Harrovians.’
There will be many in the Royal Albert Hall this evening, feeble of foot maybe, shorter in wind for sure, who will echo these words. ‘One magic thrall unites us all, the name and fame of Harrow.’
It is my pleasure, on behalf of the Harrow Association, to welcome you to the magnificent setting of the Royal Albert Hall for a very special evening of Churchill Songs.
As the year of celebrating Harrow’s 450th anniversary draws to a close and the School embarks on an exciting decade-long development programme, we must never forget that Harrow is, and will continue to be, shaped by its past. Over 450 years, thanks to many Giants of Old, we have established a set of distinct traditions and values, including Harrow Songs, which are the envy of Schools the world over. These characteristics are rooted into the DNA of every Old Harrovian and their expression and preservation are central to the HA’s mission.
In addition, a key HA purpose is to bring OHs together wherever they may be in the world. I am delighted that, despite recent challenges, we have managed this year to celebrate the School’s 450th anniversary with OHs, and Harrow parents, in London, Scotland, USA, Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand and we intend to extend our celebrations to other locations during 2023.
The one common denominator I have found on my travels, especially in this world of change, is just how much OHs value Harrow gatherings: House dinners, regional and year group get-togethers and the activities of our HA clubs and societies are all in high demand. It has been an honour to experience time and again the enduring attachment of OHs wherever they may be to the ‘name and fame of Harrow’ and, without exception, a highlight of every gathering has been Songs.
May I therefore encourage you all tonight to raise your voices and sing to Harrow’s honour. It was, after all, Sir Winston Churchill who so aptly commented about Harrow Songs on visiting the School in 1955:
“They shine through the memories of men and far and wide throughout the world in which we live. They cheer and enlighten us. They breed a bond of unity between those who have lived here…”
Stet Fortuna Domus
SURPLUS PROCEEDS FROM CHURCHILL SONGS WILL BE SHARED WITH THE HARROW CLUB AND YOUNG HARROW FOUNDATION, AS WELL AS BEING DIRECTED TO BURSARIES AT HARROW.
SCAN THE QR CODE TO MAKE A CONTRIBUTION TODAY TO THE HARROW CLUB, YOUNG HARROW FOUNDATION AND CHURCHILL PLACES.
This new bursary scheme, launched in 2020 in honour of Harrow’s eminent alumnus, offers a life-changing Harrow education to boys who demonstrate personal courage, wide-ranging thinking and a global outlook.
The opportunity to join Harrow School in the Sixth Form would not have been possible without the help of a bursary. I am extremely proud to have been the first Churchill Scholar. I thoroughly enjoyed my two years at Harrow which at times put me out of my comfort zone and opened doors to opportunities I may not have otherwise accessed. While providing me with a fantastic education, the myriad of activities outside of the classroom allowed me to continue to develop my sporting endeavours with high quality equipment and coaching, as well as challenging my leadership skills.
When I reflect on my time on the Hill, I am filled with fond memories and extremely grateful for the opportunity I was given.
To find out more about the Harrow 450 campaign to widen access through bursaries and build for the future through state-of-the-art new building projects visit harrowschool.org.uk/450-society
The Harrow Club has been creating positive futures for marginalised young people in West London since 1883. We will be celebrating our 140th anniversary in 2023; the Harrow family, Harrovians and Old Harrovians have continued that original commitment and now, with the strong support of neighbours and the local community in Kensington and Chelsea, the Harrow Club’s work remains as vital as ever.
The Harrow Club is delighted to benefit from the generosity of those attending Churchill Songs this evening
“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”SIR WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL
harrowclub.org
Young Harrow Foundation is deeply grateful to be a beneficiary of this year’s Churchill Songs.
Young Harrow Foundation is a local charity dedicated to making sure much-needed voluntary services and support organisations for children and young people continue to exist and thrive.
We do this by working with small local charities to help with their fundraising efforts, partnership and communications, and offering them training and development opportunities.
Through our work, children and young people in Harrow are getting access to more opportunities to help them reach their full potential.
Find out more about Young Harrow Foundation and our members at
youngharrowfoundation.org
We would like to express our gratitude to the many people and organisations who have assisted in arranging this celebration.
The Guest of Honour, Mr Timothy Bentinck MBE (Moretons 19663), and the Master of Ceremonies, Mr James Blunt (Elmfield 19873)
All the advertisers and sponsors
Head Master, Mr Alastair Land, and members of the Senior Management Team at Harrow
The Promoter, Mr Douglas Collins, Chief Executive of the Harrow Development Trust
Members of the Custodian’s team, Catering, Estates and other departments
Director of Music at Harrow School, Mr David Woodcock, members of his department and all musicians, performers and singers
Director of Drama, Mr Adam Cross, Head of English, Mrs Lucy Ashe, and the readers
The Corporation of the Royal Albert Hall, Chief Executive Mr Craig Hassall AM and his staff who have contributed substantially to the organisation of this production, and especially the Show Manager, Ms Mo Crowe, and the lighting and sound technicians
“Rhubarb” at the Royal Albert Hall who have provided the catering
Mr Danny Waters of Circus Design, and Hamptons who designed and produced this souvenir brochure, and all those who provided articles and photographs
Churchill Songs in celebration of 450 Years of Harrow School was organised by a team from the Harrow Development Trust and the Harrow Association, alongside the School. The team includes Mrs Perena Shryane, former Director of the HA, Mr Peter Bieneman, Harrow 450 Co-ordinator, Mrs Felicity Benjamin, Executive Assistant to the CEO, Mrs Nuala Guiney, Harrow 450 Assistant, Mr William Landale, Director of the HA and HDT, Mr William Young, Director of the HDT, Miss Debbie Hannaway, Finance Manager, Mr James McLeod, Data Management Officer, Mrs Shama Alimohamed, HA Officer, Miss Emma Pinto, Database and Research Officer, Mr Gregory Warmback, Development Officer, Mrs Jessica Bellringer, Alumni and Development Communications Manager, and Mrs Caroline Shaw, Head of Communications
Churchill Songs is jointly hosted by Harrow School (registered charity no. 310033), the Harrow Development Trust (registered charity no. 269097) and the Harrow Association.
