As both The Priory House and The School House were the first houses of Dover College, it was required that they be referred to as THE. The HM and The Priory House master, A D F Dale were insistant upon this. It has always been thus as far as the intake to The Priory House of 1948 are concerned. Long may it so remain.

Progress from Fag to Prefect was steep. Once the period of Fagging was complerted, usually one year, one became a Prep Room Boy. This brought freedom from Fagging, but not sweeping, dusting or waiting at table. Prefects ran a disciplined,orderly and harmonious(!!!!!!!!!) house, and were trusted to so do. There was a prefect to each deck, a prefect i/c waiting and dining room, a prefect i/c changing rooms, boot room and yard, etcetera. Rotas were aranged to ensure this cleanliness was maintained. Between Mr and Mrs Dale, Matron, Miss White, the House and School Prefects, peace ruled. The yard and cycle sheds were swept, the trophies polished, and so forth , and order reigned.

There was the annual house clean, when every moveable item was moved, every windiw was cleaned with water and newspapers. The yard and cycle shed were tidied, and the loose rod in the iron fence was widened just that little bit more to allow even the largest boy to sneak out if possible. Cleanliness, neatness and tidiness were essential.

1st bell was rung at 7.am, when the duty prefect would walk the decks ringing the bell. Again at 7.30 and finally at 10 mins to 8am when all would assemble for roll call and inspection in the Prep Room. Notices would be given out, then we would proceed into breakfast.  Prior to this, all fagging and house duties had to be carried out, prefects of School Level were exempt. We would all stand at our appointed places in the dining-room until Mr and Mrs Dale, Miss White and our appointed House Tutor entered via the private quarters, grace would be said and the meal commence.

Dress was important, “Boys are citizens of Dover, and will respect such,” was the rule of George Renwick, our HM. Navy blue suits, clean white (separate) shirt collars, shining shoes  clean and pressed trousers and school caps were to be worn. The middle button of our jackets were to be always buttoned. House ties had to be worn: Priory a blue stripe, School a red stripe, Leamington a mauve and Martins a Yellow stripe. Those entitled to wear boater hats were house and school prefects. House prefects wore plain straw, School prefects had theirs painted black, with the school ribbon and crest around both. School prefects carried a cane.  No one, other than staff, School Prefects or first sports Colours were permitted to walk on the close. School colours? ah, that leads me the next chapter……….

by Peter Caithness (M ’50)

ST. MARTIN’S HOUSE IN THE ’20’s

Most boys must have a certain feeling of trepidation on arriving at their public school for the first time, and I was no exception. My inferiority complex was not improved by the fact that the first person l met on entering the House from the private side was a large, well-dressed individual with such a self-assured manner that I assumed he must be a master. I soon discovered my mistake, he was in fact Bob Smallman, head of the House and far more important in my life than a mere master.

However, the next morning the school uniform of black coat, grey flannel trousers, stiff white collar and black tie separated the sheep, prefects and all, from the goats. New boys had their own distinguishing mark as all of us under 15 had to wear Eton collars, and a great day it was when these badges of servitude could be thrown away. A sartorial note which must have survived from Victorian days was the school rule which read: “Prefects may wear tall hats on Sundays”. I intended to take advantage of this when I became a school prefect by borrowing my father’s black topper, but somehow never got round to it.

An activity which loomed large in one’s first year was fagging. We had no personal chores to worry about as there was a team of maids in the House to do all the serving and waiting at meals, and to make beds and tidy our rooms. But each new boy was assigned to a prefect as his personal fag. The duties were comparatively simple but they had to be fitted into a busy working day. I fagged for a splendid character named Roly Nutt, and my duties in the main were confined to producing hot water for shaving in the morning, keeping his study tidy, helping with his maths. prep. (I was in a higher maths. set) and cleaning his rugger boots. Nutt was in the XV at a time when College rugger was very much in the ascendant. We had beaten Epsom, in our last game against them, 4|-nil, and Merchant Taylor’s 26-nil in the previous year, and in my first term we won all our school matches, beating King’s, Canterbury twice, Merchant Taylor’s, Mill Hill and Blundell’s and scoring 85 points to ll in the process. I like to think that the polish I imparted to Roly Nutt’s rugger boots contributed in some small way to those victories.

…AND IN THE FORTIES

By the Spring of 1946 St. Martin’s was back to normal. All the war damage repairs had been carried out and the “new” Prep Room with the latest style _“bunks” or ‘i‘toyes” had been built and seen to be practical as well as pleasant. True, the top floor had an appreciable sway when buffeted by themore ferocious Channel gales, but this was a hazard of the draw for bedrooms and did not constitute an actual threat to life or limb. The School as a whole had by then mainly recovered from its traumatic return home from temporary exile in Poltimore, Devon. Small in numbers, its character had remained constant, held together administratively and commercially by the sound leadership and business acumen of the then Headmaster, George Renwick.

At this time most of the more senior boys had joined Dover College at Poltimore. Their tales of terror and perhaps imagination endowed Poltimore and the men who had been there with an aura of legendary exploit and achievement which we mere boys who were new anyway and very young could never hope to emulate. I imagine it is the same today: the heroes of yesterday assume Arthurian proportions.

St. Martin’s at that time provided a fairly gentle introduction to Public School life. Our bodily needs were looked after by Anne-in-the-Kitchen under the eagle eye of gracious “DolIy” Ewart, whilst Matron, Miss Smith, ensured we got our sheets changed at suitable intervals. She was too experienced a campaigner to be upset by our uncouth ways and I hope she forgave our occasional ragging, which was never meant unkindly.

A determined effort was then under way to raise the scholastic standard of the School and St. Martin’s attracted its fair share of brains and brawn due to Major Ewart’s seniority in the School which enabled him to select boys of scholastic aptitude whilst not neglecting candidates who would help in winning the all-important House Matches. St. Martin’s was not, I think, “cock” house all the time, but it was a pretty close thing and we seemed to win most things that mattered.

In particular, I remember the Devon Home Guard Cup, which required an united effort on the part of every member of St. Martin’s to attain various standards of physical fitness. A similar success for St. Martin’s house effort was in the Sports Cup. One year, too, ifl remember right, the first three places in the School Steeplechase Cup were filled by “Martin’s”. But that might have been our spartan upbringing which resisted the ‘flu then ravaging the lesser houses.

This kind of success can be attributed to that indefinable quality of “House Spirit”, whereby every member really wanted to do his best for his house. This spirit was generated by the boys themselves of course but much was due to the encouragement given by their Housemaster. And this is where Allon Ewart, “the Mon”, excelled. Boys were given the encouragement (sometimes a prod) they needed to do something, anything, for the School, the House, themselves. Many a team list made out in that inimitable, neat but illegible writing, ended in a Gaelic exhortation or its equivalent to “go to it” with “Rattle and Bang”. And we did.

It was no bad training for life in the world outside the College Walls to follow Allon’s dictum. And it is to his eternal credit as Housemaster that we at Martin’s knew what it was in a Christian spirit to do everything “heartily, as unto the Lord …”
P. W. CAITHNESS (M ’50)

[These history articles all come from a publication celebrating the College's 100th Anniversary in 1971]

By A.F.R Dale, former Housemaster of Priory House. Priory House had to be pulled down when internal works caused the building to become unsafe.

Priory House

When the House was completed in 1877, the Headmaster (Canon Bell) moved from St. Martin’s House and occupied it for four years until the School House, built on similar lines with separate bed-rooms for the boys, was ready. Then Mr. C. E. Sparkes, who had rented St. Martin’s, moved his boys into the building leaving St. Martin’s empty for two terms and the name Sparkes’ House can be seen on surviving photographs of the period 1881-1894. lt was not until the reign of the next Housemaster that the boys first became known as Prior House and this was under Mr. T. T. Carlyon, who llke the then Housemaster, Canon Compton, came from Uppingham School and who had much influence in building up our traditions. Indeed, a later Housemaster-Mr. C. L. Evans – first served under him on the College staff. Roy Heathcote Hacker was one of the very devoted Old Boys of Carlyon’s period.

Mr. Carlyon left to take up a post at the Naval College at Osborne and again the St. Martin’s Housemaster – the Revd. A. E. Wynne, a Mathematical scholar of Jesus, Cambridge – moved round the Close. “Fusti” Wynne was Housemaster until he moved to Blundell’s School, where he became Headmaster. After his retirement he came back and lived at St. Margaret’s Bay, visiting the College on numerous occasions. He died in 1964 after having reached the ripe old age of I00. He had brought up Priory O.D. s for some seven years, many of whom lost their lives in the First World War.  Francis Biddulph is one who can tell us about this period of the House’s history, and we print below some of his impressions.

Then came the Housemastership of Mr. C. L. Evans. His first task was to take the House to Leamington in 1917 and to keep it alive until its return to its own home, which had been occupied by the Pay Corps. Under his guidance, the House continued to flourish and C.L. also spent much time and energy on his work as the Dover Secretary of the O.D. Club and on the College Register of that time. Mrs. Evans produced each year the Priory House plays, which provided a breeding ground for the School actors. ln 1934, he was taken ill and died in the House which he had served for some eighteen years. Cecil Raw was of his time, another devoted O.D. who became Chairman of the Governors.

On C.L.’s death, Mr. Morgan, the Bursar and outstanding rugger coach, took over until Mr. Munns was appointed. Once more the move was from St. Martin’s and now the Houses were organised differently, so that boarding fees went to the College, instead of being paid to the Housemaster.

Mr. Munns took the House to Devonshire, first to Blundell’s and then to Poltimore House. Here the boys had one big room both for recreation and for prep. had dormitories in place of the single rooms they were used to, and studies were non-existent for some time. Mrs. Munns was in charge of the whole domestic side of the College which ate centrally-a Herculean task for a housemaster’s wife.

But war ended at last and the move back to Priory House was immediately organised-the corridors were now “Decks” and the Housemaster’s bedroom labelled “Chief Wren”, for the house had been occupied by the Navy. “Chief Wren” disappeared but Mr. Munns did not object to “Decks” and “Decks” they still are.

Mr. Munns retired in 1947 and the writer of these notes was then appointed. Many Priory O.D.’s came to see the old place after the War and parties of a dozen or more would stay at O.D. Week-ends and relive some of their memories. There was much rebuilding to put right and central heating replaced the dangerous open fires. The cycle shed was rebuilt by the boys, who also decorated studies and prep. room-a tradition still carried on. A subscription list for bunks was opened and soon these were installed in the prep. room and overflowed into the dining room-all are marked with the names of the donors. Rationing continued for some years and it is difficult now to picture how much the ladies of the household had to do behind the scenes.

Then, from the same Oxford College as Mr. Carlyon and the same school as A.D.F.D., Mr. E. L. Wright became Housemaster. Numbers in the House became greater. But this is current affairs and he continues day by day with the thought “May Priory House prosper”.
A.F.R.DALE

[These history articles all come from a publication celebrating the College's 100th Anniversary in 1971]

SCHOOL HOUSE REVISITED
BUT THE MELODY LINGERS ON . . .

I lean back against the deck-rail of the Ostend-Dover packetboat, watch the harbour slowly diminish in the lazy February sunshine and wonder. How much would everything have changed? Could I still enjoy the reminiscence without destroying the illusion?

School House

A whole decade had passed since the last time I had pulled out of Dover Priory Station and joined the rat-race of the individual. The big world beyond the Close. It had been fun in those intervening years to glimpse the Castle behind Gert Frobe in Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines, and the nestling docks far below the Spitfires and Messerschmidts in The Battle of Britain. But now it would be for real. Retracing old steps. Recalling past faces.

As we reverse into the Western Dock I search the landscape for familiar landmarks. The Whalers gently riding their moorings. The Dover Stage, towering over the promenade. This time it all seems smaller. Slower. They’ve filled in the rails that used to run along the front. Loreleis for our bicycle tyres. New flats have sprawled their concrete limbs across the wasteland behind the East Kent Coach terminus. Under the East Cliff I hunt in vain for a dingy café known as Smokey Joe’s, where we first heard Cliff Richard sing Livin’ Doll on the juke box and studied the pleasures of nicotine. On up King Street. I recognise little more than the bus shelters. Oases in the desert. Ray Warner has moved on to pastures new. Eddie Crush has crossed the road. Once upon a time there were four cinemas in the Town, and a week of heavy rain in the summer could mean a plethora of celluloid fantasies for less than a pound. Now, everywhere is Chinese restaurants and Package Holidays. What is the “Top Hat”? I remember that used to be called Pelosi’s, refugee from the sudden Mediterranean influx, and strictly out-of-bounds. And round the corner from the A.B.C., didn’t we used to have cream teas for half-a-crown served by the original bearded lady?

I turn into Saxon Street, once the red light district for the chaps in Blue and Khaki, and very occasionally for those in Grey Herring-Bone as well. Somehow, I still feel a stranger in the land. A tourist off the beaten track.

And then, like the best traditional Pantomime, the Chapel clock strikes twelve and reality begins to focus. The notes seem to hang in the air. Quick. Clear. Perhaps a semi-tone higher than l remember. Time can play a trick or two like that. The Close is quiet. Sunny and peaceful with the distant sound of a mowing machine somewhere near the boat-sheds. Was I really here? Aeons of happy days telescoped into a few seconds. Close to the tuck-shop I find a phone box. Something we never had. Instant contact with the outside world at the press of a button. That’s progress. I wander in and out of the surrounding buildings. Am I looking for a clue? The click of the heavy Chapel door. The curved treads of the Library steps. The jagged shadows thrown by the Refectory ruins. Memories, are made of this. Suddenly a bell rings and the area is alive. Boys clutching books and turning hither and thither. Trousers a little more flared. Hair slightly nearer the shoulder. Otherwise exactly the same. I must have rung that bell myself in the past but I cannot remember where. Or how. Or when. I sense l am being stared at. An alien from another planet.

Later on l see some of the same faces across the lunch table. The best of hospitality. I wonder if the Headmaster still sees me as a spotted youth struggling with “A”_Levels and trying to funk the steeplechase. l look around the dining-room. The silver cups glint quietly on the sideboard. More names have been added  to the list of honoured.
Many more names will be added in the future. Far away in a prefect’s study I can hear the latest on Radio One. We used to play Chris Barber in Berlin or My Fair Lady, and thought we were bloody marvellous!

Forgive me, old chap, for not recognising you straight away. Silly of me, because I knew you very well really and you’ve hardly changed at all. You must have known thousands of us; even tens of thousands perhaps. And yet you still welcome us back with warmth and affection. I think maybe you’ve lost a little colour. Put on a bit of weight. But you certainly haven’t aged.

Congratulations, old chap, and here’s to the next century.
ROBIN R. TAYLOR (S ’6l)

The College was granted arms on January 20th, 1931.

SHIELD: Sable, a Cross Argent between four Leopard’s Faces Or, on a Chief of the last, the Castle with two Towers of the field  between two open Books Argent, edged gold, bound Gules.

CREST: On a wreath of the colours, a  Demi-man (representing St. Martin) habited as a Roman Soldier, holding in his dexter  hand a sword with which he divides his  cloak flowing from his shoulders, and  supported by his sinister hand, all proper.

MOTTO: NON RECUSO LABOREM.

The blazon (heraldic description) means  that on a black shield is a silver cross between four leopard’s faces of gold. On the  upper third of the field (the “chief”), which  is “of the last” tincture previously named, in this case, gold, is a castle with two towers “of the field”, that is to say, of the same colour as the main part of the  shield, which is black. The castle is placed between two open books with white pages, edged with gold and bound in red. Above the shield is an esquire’s helmet-this is the type of helmet always given in England to a  Corporation-and on it a wreath of twisted silk “of the (principal) colours” of the shield, which are here silver and  black. The wreath helps to hold in place the mantling, which is the conventional representation of the cloth with which a knight covered the back of his helmet and his shoulders, and the crest, which is St. Martin, shown from the thighs upwards. He is in the act of dividing his cloak, which is fastened to his shoulders. He holds it in his left hand and his sword in his right-the words “dexter” and “sinister” mean the right and left of the bearer of the crest and shield, not of the viewer of them. St Martin, his armour, sword and cloak, are all “proper”, that is to say,  represented in their natural colours.

The lower part of the shield displays the arms of the ancient Norman Priory of St. Martin, the buildings of which  are now occupied by the College. The castle is an allusion, not to Dover Castle as might be expected, but to the Town of Dover, the Gateway of England. The crest refers to the well-known legend of St. Martin’s giving half his soldier’s cloak to a naked beggar who, that night, appeared to him in a dream and revealed that he was Christ  whom Martin had clothed. St. Martin and the beggar appear in the Arms of the Dover Borough Council. The words of the motto, which may be translated, “l do not shrink from work”, are said to have been used by St. Martin on his deathbed.

DOVER GROUP – July 2010

Our lunch at the Premier Lodge Hotel on 31^st July was well supported.  Those attending were ODs Gerald Kitiyakara (S’67) from Croydon, David May (S’56) and his wife Eleanor from Beckenham and John Turnpenny (C’41) from Dover.  Ex staff members attending were George & Penny Matthews, Rosemary Rottenbury and Alan & Brenda Walker.  Klara Stefan-Nelson and Peter Kershaw looked in after the meal.

Nigel Pittam (M’67) has been in touch and hopes to come to the next re-union on Saturday 28^th August at 12.30  at the usual place.

Cock and Woolpack, Finch Lane

The next meeting of the London City Group will be this Tuesday, 14th September from about 1pm at the Cock & Woolpack, Finch Lane, behind the Royal Exchange Building. The nearest tube is Bank, about two minutes walk away.

Hope to see you there!

All the best

John Sinclair

Leamington House is 90 this year !

We are planning a dinner in the Refectory, we need your help …. Three things to do:

1. Make a note in your diary, October 2nd 2010
2. Contact friends who were at Leamington with you and encourage them to come as well as yourself and partners too.
3. Tell us if your contact details have changed – our Leamington mailing list may be out of date and the email system has been invented since the last dinner!

The event is still very dependent on numbers:  at present the rough price guide is £30 per head, and no accommodation discounts have been arranged.

An additional event too!

There is also a challenge earlier in the day and we need to get those who are fit (and not so) to join College sponsored walk/run to raise money for local charities in the town.  Each year the college raises about £10,000…  we need to help Leamington do well  for this 90th.

In the first instance, please register your interest for the dinner and or the charity walk /run with Rupert Hill at hillr@dovercollege.org.uk

Below is an article scanned in by Guy Nickalls from the Illustrated London News, 1891. You can get a close-up view of it by clicking on it (and then clicking again to get the larger picture). The woodcut is quite beautiful, you need to get close-up to appreciate it!

Stephen Jones, 51, has been appointed Warden at St Edward’s, Oxford. He will take up his post in September 2011.

Stephen Jones, Headmaster of Dover College since 2004, was headhunted for the position at St Edward’s School in Oxford. St Edward’s is a co-educational day and boarding school for 650 pupils aged 13 to 18 with a strong academic results and outstanding extra-curricular opportunities.

 Making the announcement, Joe Sullivan, Chairman of Governors at Dover College, said, “Although these are bittersweet news, Stephen Jones’ appointment reflects the enormous contribution he has made to Dover College. His legacy will be conspicuous in the physical developments in music and drama for example, and in the impressive academic improvements and growing self-confidence of the pupils. Stephen has moulded a highly professional Common Room and Senior Management Team which will give a supportive foundation for the new Head and real continuity for the work that he will have left.”

 A change of Head in this timescale is both quite normal and healthy. In line with good governance, the Board of Governors have been quietly planning for such eventuality. The Chairman of Governors has been involved with Dover College for twenty five years as both a parent and a Governor and therefore understands what is unique to the school.