Letters to the Editor

Political OMs

I am so encouraged by the contents of the Marlburian Club Magazine telling of so many brilliant OMs doing brilliant things. Such good news is welcomed in these days of our questionable political leadership, it moved me to comment how seldom we read about Marlburians engaged in politics. The magazine reflects such intelligent, compassionate, right thinking and simply decent people often in leadership positions; how we need such people as political leaders to guide our nation! So, I would like to ask whether members of the school are encouraged to go into politics and to make positive contributions as OMs, something that is so needed. Also, is there a place in the curriculum to study current affairs and the vocation of a politician? I count my old school as one of the features of my long life that I am particularly grateful for. Richard Podger (B1 1952-56) Reply from Louise Moelwyn-Hughes (Master 2018-): You can rest assured that current Marlburians are encouraged to go into politics and that this fascinating and entirely relevant subject sits firmly within our curriculum; indeed, it is one of our most popular subjects at A level. We currently have 135 pupils in the Sixth Form studying Politics and a good proportion of these will go on to university to study the same. In addition, the Politics Society is alive and well, with a very strong membership that regularly packs out the Garnett Room. Alongside this, the Club’s President, Harriett Baldwin MP (LI 1975-77), will be hosting events particularly targeting PMs and MPs of the future.

Fagging, Welchman and Lime Trees

When I arrived at Marlborough in 1949, I had prepared for public school life by reading Tom Brown’s Schooldays and Eric, or, Little by Little and was somewhat apprehensive. I was greatly relieved to find that fagging did not exist at Marlborough (perhaps because of the junior House system). I started at Barton Hill and went on to Cotton House with Edwin ‘Spud’ Dowdell (CR 1922-62) (I later learned that the nickname derived not from an imagined resemblance, but from a wartime cultivation of the crop). As I was always passionate about Mathematics, the beak I remember best was ARDR (Allan Ramsay (CR 1939-56)). Alan Robson (CR 1911-47) had already retired, but I studied from several of his books and did exchange a couple of letters with him. I didn’t buy Gordon Welchman’s (C3 1920-25) book, but I discovered a few years later that several of the lecturers I met at Cambridge had worked at Bletchley Park. Indeed, I think all the Maths VIth in my year (including John Boys (LI 1948-52), grandson of Charles Vernon Boys (C1 1869-72)) went up to Cambridge. I read that the lime trees have now gone from Court. So, what has become of the line ‘the lime trees double row’ in the school song The Old Bath Road that we used to sing at the end of every term? Terry Wall (CO 1949-54)

Letters to the Editor

Fagging and Murray

The Letters to the Editor in the 2021 edition discussed fagging, flogging and GW Murray’s (CR 1946-78) nickname of Bogle or Bogie. I heard neither of these during my time at the College. The nickname then applied to him was alliterative and zoomorphic. It was he who gave me one of my only two floggings for kicking a ball in the gym. I suspect that as an ordinary beak he was not entitled to do so. He also gave me, from the Library, a worn 1923 edition of A History of Marlborough College that I still have. My other flogging was from Francis ‘Foss’ Barber (CR 1937-75) at the Priory in 1959 when, during a blitz on untidy clothing, my cricket shirt was found on the floor of the changing room rather than on its allotted peg (it was a fit-up by another boy.) Perhaps inspired by novels about doughty boys being caned, I thanked him afterwards. In Summerfield in 1960, there was very mild fagging, with junior boys giving a token dusting and sweeping to the Prefects’ study. Two of us were very puzzled by one device (the Head of House was none the wiser) that we tried to use as a vacuum cleaner, before realising that it was a floor-polisher! Terence Sharman-Crawford (SU 1959-63)

I can correct two small points of information in the correspondence from 2021’s magazine. One was in Robin Brodhurst’s (PR 1965-70) letter. John Dancy (Master 1961-72) definitely did not abolish fagging at Marlborough. That was achieved by George Turner (Master 1926-39) when my two uncles were at Cotton House in the 1930s. Regards the late George Pulman’s (LI 1962-66) letter, I have never heard of GW Murray being referred to as Bogle or Bogey. He was always Monkey Murray in my day – tho’ not to his face! Jimmy James (CO 1965-70)

Fagging

Regarding the correspondence about John Dancy’s (Master 1961-72) reforms, personal fagging was abolished at Marlborough in George Turner’s time (Master 1926-39). I remember JCD himself commenting on this from the platform of the Mem Hall when Turner died, and this is confirmed in Thomas Hinde’s book Paths of Progress. I am surprised that corporal punishment by Prefects still existed in the middle-tolate 1960s, but I am, of course, prepared to accept Robin’s memory. What I do remember is that in my last year another boy and I were examining the contents of a seldom opened (but not locked) cupboard in the house library. Amongst various kinds of archival materials, we found a species of logbook kept by the Head of House a few years earlier. I can’t remember the date, unfortunately, but think it was probably around 1961. I can remember very little about what was in it, but I do remember that a particular boy had been giving trouble and had been caned by the Prefect concerned. The latter had entered the even-then astonishing and now somewhat chilling comment that it was ‘a good opportunity to show the House that there is still such a thing as a Prefect’s beating!’ I have sometimes wondered whether the contents of that cupboard eventually found their way to the College Archives! Christopher Wain (B1 1966-70)

GW Murray

Welchman

I thoroughly enjoyed reading James Spender’s (C2 1987-92) article on Gordon Welchman (C3 1920-25). I was lucky enough, while an undergraduate from 1979-82, to study in the War Studies department of King’s College London, and examine inter alia the use of intelligence in World War II. We were required to read as widely as was possible at that time, which was not very wide, as Ultra and Enigma had only just been disclosed. I was suitably fascinated and bought quite a lot of the necessary volumes, including Welchman’s The Hut Six Story. While the maths was quite beyond my O level – I still think the

Can anyone verify this tale? Tom Jackson (C2 1957-1961)

Gordon Welchman

examiners must have mixed up my papers with somebody else’s – I could just about follow what he was writing about and found it an absolutely fascinating book. As a child growing up in Winchester College, I knew a few of my father’s colleagues. One, whom I liked very much, was John Manisty (B1 1925-31), who was an infallible source of knowledge about railway timetables, both British and European. Once, when traveling back from a College climbing trip to the Austrian Alps so as to join my family for a camping trip around the Loire, he organised my ticket, and told me, ‘The train will stop at Cologne, not as a scheduled stop, but to change drivers. You can change trains there.’ It duly did exactly as he said. Little did I know about his time at Bletchley Park, and just wish I could have talked with him about it before he died. In the last photograph (on p39) accompanying the article, he is to be seen in the back row, the first man on the right. He is in uniform, but not I suspect his MC OTC uniform.

Both Welchman and Manisty, along with many other such unsung heroes, deserve to have their names inscribed in Chapel alongside other College heroes. Robin Brodhurst (PR 1965-70)

Lime Trees

In response to Alan Greenwood’s (C2 1962-66) article about the lime trees being removed from Court, may I say that my father, John Dancy (Master 1961-72), did indeed authorise the removal of the lime trees double row because, as the school song went, ‘the lime trees had to go’. They were diseased. Dad no more wished them to be removed than most other members of the school at the time.

Nick Cutts (née Dancy B2 1968-69)

I was amused to read Alan Greenwood’s article ‘I’ll Never Forget… how Court opened its face to the outside world.’ I remember returning from my first overseas posting in the Army and, on visiting the College, I was horrified to see the trees, such a major landmark during my time there, had disappeared! I remember my father, Thomas Jackson (C2 1925-29), telling me during his time at Marlborough, that, when a boy was expelled, he was made to walk with his Housemaster from C House to the Porter’s Lodge, while the pupils lined both sides along the tree lines, where a car would be waiting for him outside the gates. The Porter would follow behind with the departing pupil’s trunk on a trolley! This tale left an indelible mark on me, but I was never able to verify if it was true and often wondered if my father was telling me the tale to scare me and make sure I did not suffer a similar fate!

I remember my husband, Thomas Garnett (Master 1952-61), saying publicly that the lime trees should be cut down. He told me that it was to make it easier for his successor, John Dancy (Master 1961-72), who would have to take a controversial decision to get rid of them. Another story about the trees is, probably in 1959, my bees swarmed from The Lodge garden and landed on a low branch of one of the trees on Court.

My husband was just in time to prevent a squad of cadets from marching directly underneath and urgently called for The Reverend Canon Perceval Hayman (CR 1953-61) to come and collect them. Penelope Garnett wife of Thomas Garnett (Master 1952-61)

Letters to the Editor

Legendary Cricket

In last year’s magazine, Tim Lowden (B2 1954-58) asked whether any other OMs achieved the ten-for success that he did in a B2 v B3 match in the 1950s. At my prep school I did this, but I almost got beaten for it.

My small prep school had only 55 boys, so we had difficulty raising a cricket team of any standard. Our headmaster (HM) believed in winning and, if we lost, we would be berated for letting down the honour of the school. In 1955, we played against another school near us. Our HM arrived about an hour after the match had started and found we had been dismissed for 10. We were taken to the side of the field and told by our HM that we had let ourselves down, the school’s honour, etc. He hoped we would take a couple of wickets when we fielded so it would not be a total whitewash. Suitably admonished, we took the field. The first ball went for four byes. Needing seven to win, the other school only scored four more, so we won by two runs. The following year I was Captain of the team. We lost our first match and our HM accused us of not trying hard enough; I think the honour of the school was once more mentioned. I resolved to do better. Playing against the fathers some weeks later, I opened the bowling and, as I was taking wickets, kept on bowling, eventually taking all 10 wickets for 22. The school won easily. After the match our HM was furious. He told me that it was the most selfish thing he’d ever seen, why had I not let others bowl and I only just escaped a beating – probably because we’d won.

As an aside, my elder brother, Bruce (PR 1954-58) (Tim’s contemporary) tells me that Tim got beaten on his last day at Marlborough following an impromptu sketch at the end of term concert that was not appreciated by the beaks. George Pulman (LI 1962-66) relates how Bogle Murray would call boys by various ranks, in place of names, during the weighing and measuring process each term. How we walked was also inspected during these checks. I was told that my walking was the best example they had seen of the gumboot plod and I had to attend the Remedial Gym for a term or more until I had learnt to walk with less flat feet.

Simon Petter (PR 1956-60)

The cricket story reminds me of when I was in C1 and Rupert Lane (CR 1968-82) was my Housemaster. We were playing a House cricket match – it must have been one of those weeks I didn’t manage to wriggle out of it by arranging a music lesson – and one of our team was going great guns with the bat. His name was Mark Skull (C1 1975-79) and he excelled at all sports. He had an A level Biology exam coming up in a couple of days and wanted to get on with revision.

He asked the bowler to bowl him an easy catch so he could get out and get back to studying. Mr Lane heard this and demanded to know why Mark was throwing his wicket away. Mark explained that he wanted to revise for his A level. To which Mr Lane’s reply, which we never let him forget, was, ‘Bugger the A levels, this is House cricket!’ Anonymous

Tim Lowden (B2 1954-58) asked if anyone had bettered his legendary wicket story of taking all 10 wickets in a match for 34 runs. I was playing for C1 against Summerfield in an inter-House cricket match in my final year. I had been lucky enough to have been in the Cricket XI for three years by this stage and therefore was at the peak of my school cricketing career. C1 with B3 were in those days the major sporting houses and Summerfield was not known for its sporting prowess, putting it nicely! I hit 100 not out opening the batting for C1 (I opened the batting for the XI) and then I bowled out Summerfield, taking all 10 wickets. I had a very strange bowling action that everyone that has played with me over the years will testify to and I don’t think that the Summerfield batsmen really saw the balls!

Richard P Brown (C1 1965-70)

I received five replies to my request to find anyone who had played in the B2 v B3 cricket match in 1957 and, indeed, if anyone had bettered my score of 10 wickets for 34 runs. One of whom played in the match and remembered the occasion was Rupert McGuigan (B2 1955-60). Oddly enough, we take part in an annual OM golf tour to France and the subject has never come up. Two of the other three replies were: ‘I didn’t know you played cricket’ and ‘I could easily have been in that game as I was often foolish enough to volunteer for all sorts of things!’ The fourth reply was a very welcome enquiry from Ben Moorhead (B3 1971-76) with whom I played golf in the OMGS match v Littlestone on several occasions.

The fifth reply was from Richard Brown (C1 1965-70) who telephoned me and said, ‘I can better your feat. I also took 10 wickets BUT scored a hundred as well!’

That surely concludes my quest very satisfactorily. Tim Lowden (B2 1954-58)

Secular Christmas Cards

In 2021’s magazine, Bishop Newcome (TU 1966-71) remarked that by 2010 ‘less than four per cent of Christmas cards had any reference to the Bible’. I have kept statistics of cards received for 20 years, dividing – and displaying – them from the outset in six categories.

Last year’s statistics were:

Religious/Nativity

Snow/Winter

Birds

Foliage

Regimental/Establishment

Biffo the Bear/Father Christmas/ Snowman, etc.

Cards

34

18

9

8

5

16

Percentages have not changed significantly over the years. Only religious/nativity cards appear in the drawing room. Others go in the hall, apart from Biffo, Father Christmas and the snowmen, who languish near the back door.

I would regret it if members of the Club were to see this as an arbitrary and insufficiently woke system, but I am not aware that it has caused any diminution of Christmas spirit. There was an occasion in 2004 when a distinguished military Cheltonian, without comment, spotted his card near the back door. On returning home he sent a second – Royal Household – card by first-class mail. While this did not fully meet his aspiration, it did get him into the hall until Twelfth Night. Campbell Gordon (PR 1956-60) Robin Brodhurst (PR 1965-70) writes that the ‘most popular’ Wednesday afternoon activity was the construction of the New Music School. I was involved in the application of decorative concrete panels to the exterior of the north wall. For several of these afternoons, my job was to drill holes for the fixings. John Dancy (Master 1961-72) came by once to inspect the work, or perhaps he was just going that way. His approach was drowned by the noise of the jackhammer, and I was surprised to see him when I turned round. It was not a pleasant task, so I probably looked disgruntled. He smiled slightly and said, in the distinctive voice I am sorry to say I frequently mimicked, ‘Jolly nice holes.’

Colin Maitland (B2 1966-70)

The now demolished New Music School, or Kennett Building, following the repainting of the original concrete panels I was very surprised to find a photo of myself on p56 of last year’s magazine in the Shooting VIII at Bisley in 1954. I am in the back row, fourth boy from the right. I shot at Bisley for the following three years: two for the school and once in the Army on National Service. I would love a reminder of who’s in the photo. I think I know some! I was pleased to see a photo of my local MP Harriett Baldwin who is the new President of the Club. I only recently realised that she was an OM.

David Fletcher (CO 1951-57)

Memories

The obituary of Nicholas Goodison (C3 1947-52) was deficient in two important matters.

In his last year at Marlborough, he was a respected Senior Prefect. I may add that as such he had a study upstairs in the Porter’s Lodge. Here, he was entitled to administer corporal punishment. I can vouch for this, having received six of the best from his cane. The offence was the discovery of a packet of cigarettes in my study in an inspection. Secondly, Nicholas was a poet. I don’t know if his poetry was published but stockbroker bards must be a rare breed.

Charles Backhouse’s (B2 1948-52) obituary from his son Oliver (C3 1981-85) was also of great interest as Charles was a friend of mine from the age of 14. I saw him at his wedding some 12 years later before careers and families took over our lives.

Letters to the Editor

Nicholas Goodison

Charles Backhouse

Amateur archaeology was among the interests listed and this probably started in A House. Our much-loved Housemaster Cogs (Fredrick Coggin) (CR 1926-62), offered a prize for the best natural history study or collection made during the Summer Term of 1949. Charles and I bicycled out at weekends to Ogbourne St George where we had a huge chalk quarry all to ourselves. Here, below the dazzling cliffs of chalk and in the blistering heat that prevailed that summer, we collected small fossils that we identified with the help of a book on palaeontology. Neatly labelled, this hoard of sharks’ teeth, ammonites and the like were laid out in the hobbies room at the back of a house and won the prize that Cogs provided. Further, Oliver Backhouse described the masquerade in which Charles disguised himself as a clergyman and Jonathan Dale Roberts (B1 1948-52), in a coat and skirt borrowed from his mother, posed as his wife. The boy who showed them round was not a junior boy posing as their son. I was that boy, not disguised. We were all 16 or 17. Charles made things difficult by adopting a prim parsonical voice and making idiotic comments. ‘You play rugby football here? I believe it is a very rough game. I suppose the school doctor is always in attendance.’ I suppose the problem was that we kept being so helpless with laughter that we would have to find a hiding place until we could compose ourselves and continue our tour. The Chaplain spotted us from his room at the back of B House. He told me later he was surprised to discover I had a nonconformist minister among my relations. Charles had completed his disguise with a false moustache, something the Chaplain said no self-respecting C of E clergyman would have worn. Somewhere I have a photograph of this absurd escapade but sadly I cannot now find it. Lastly, the handsome, laughing photograph of Gordon Lorimer (C3 1947-51), distinguished sportsman and soldier, reminded me of an unexpected encounter with him. One peaceful afternoon he burst into my study and launched into an angry tirade of which I was the startled subject. I was relegated to the House team known as Remnants. Lorimer, a year my senior, was a keen boxer and 1st XV player. He must have witnessed our Remnants game, where I was perhaps Captain or at any rate a ringleader in the light-hearted manner of play. This so appalled and enraged him that he felt justified in his angry and hostile rebuke. I can quite see that to him a lack of interest in the outcome of the game was a kind of treason, or discredit to our House. My study companion and I sat silent in open-mouthed astonishment while Lorimer scolded. Somehow, he and I never became friends. John Anderson (C3 1942-52)

Gordon Lorimer

CCF Band

I appear on p15 of 2021’s magazine in Anthony Dowlen’s (C1 1961-65) photograph of the CCF Band during the 1964 inspection. I am the drummer on the far right in the front row, the lead tipper – a post that I think I held for possibly three years from 1964-66. Regarding Anthony’s photograph of the Hamlet production, I played the role of the first gravedigger in the play but didn’t appear in the final scene, which is shown there.

Adrian Hutton (B3 1961-65)