I wrote to the Converts' Aid Society and they suggested that I write to the Salvatorian College at Wealdstone, as they were looking for someone to fill a vacancy on the staff. Accordingly I wrote to Father Cuthbert Smith SDS, the Headmaster and was told to come for an interview. Although almost 40 years have passed since then I can still recall the immediate impression of a kind and gentle personality that he made on me at first meeting, though what he saw in me to induce him to give me a trial, I have still not been able to fathom. I think that it must have been sympathy for a poor convert in a bit of a dilemma. Anyhow I found myself a few days later waiting rather nervously to face between 20 and 30 boys whose ages were 12 to 14.
My only experience of teaching had been for 2 or 3 years, shortly after I had left school and was teaching in small private schools, while waiting to find the means of being trained as a missionary. I soon found, however, that I had nothing to fear-the boys were a nice friendly group and even appeared a little bit scared of me! We were soon on good terms, in spite of occasional tussles, in which even with my unfair advantage as a master, I did not always come out on top. Father Cuthbert and the other priests were kind and patient and did not complain if there were sometimes a bit of noise from my classroom. I soon began to lose my 'new boy' complex and to feel at home. The lay staff were also most friendly and helpful-Mr. Rose was a gentle, scholarly man and a great musician; Mr. McCue was energetic, efficient and friendly; Mr. Wilson, now I think living at Bushey, was the one with whom I was most intimate. I saw him on a visit I made to England in 1950 but have not heard of him since; Mr. Howard (now Fr. Xavier SDS.) was a most energetic athlete for whom I occasionally umpired at cricket and helped at the annual school sports.
Brother Trudo and another, younger brother, looked after the kitchen, domestic affairs and the central heating. This was always giving trouble, producing alarming groans, thumps and clanks, but very little heat! Brother Trudo had a chicken run in the back garden: I once saw him going out to get a chicken for dinner - he carried a murderous looking cleaver, stalked his prey until he had it cornered and then beheaded it with one mighty slash of the knife. As we masters had our meals in the Community refectory my memory of the assassination of the innocent chicken was short-lived in the appetising aroma which arose from the chicken soup it provided. We also attended to our own rooms, the Brothers providing clean linen as necessary. I had a room in the attic, rather I should say that I had the whole attic as a room. Sometimes I would allow the boys, as a favour, to carry my bicycle up to the attic and as a further favour to ride it around the attic! As the attic was above the room where Father Cuthbert slept he had occasion to come up once as the din was really frightening. He came in and found us careering around the room at full speed, looked more surprised than angry and with a doubtful smile, retired.
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After I had been a term or two at the College we had a visit from the Diocesan Religious Inspector. He asked a boy in my form for an Act of Faith ... No answer ... Then he asked another and another and another ... No answer. He looked rather shocked and went on to other questions which they answered very well. After the ordeal was over I went up to my room, convinced that I should begin packing my bags at once, but I didn't and nothing was ever said about it. I can only suppose that I had never actually referred to the Act which they said after me each morning as an 'Act of Faith'. |
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Fortunately for me Father Cuthbert was able and willing to have me back at Wealdstone and this time I had a rather younger class of 10 and II year olds. They were attractive youngsters, rather more lively and mischievous than the older boys, but after Besford Court I could see a halo around each head!
Father Osmund was the Parish Priest and did not have much to do with the school. The boys loved him and there was fierce competition to serve his Mass. The old wooden church was still in use then and I occasionally served Mass there. Once I was 'press-ganged' into a choir of 4 or 5 for a sung Mass - we were hidden behind the altar to spare our blushes where we could, and did, sing lustily if not tunefully. I was happy to be present at the laying of the foundation stone of the new Church by Cardinal Bourne and was distracted from the solemnity of the occasion by my apprehension caused by boys hanging, apparently by their eyebrows, from the lofty scaffolding so that they could get a bird's eye view of the proceedings.
I was Assistant Scoutmaster, under the late Leslie Dorling, in the 17th Harrow Troop to which a number of the College boys belonged. They gave me the elegant Scout name of 'Seaweed' and though I tried to ban its use in school, most Old Salvatorians to this day know me by that name only. On two or three occasions I went to camp with the scouts. At Greenaleigh Farm near Minehead one of the most troublesome boys in my class, running downhill, pitched over a steep bank and landed on his head. I knew he had a thick head, but I doubted if he would survive that fall. Leslie Dorling took him to Minehead hospital in the sidecar of his motor bike, while I sat on the pillion holding the patient in position in the sidecar. He was pretty bad when we arrived and was put into a heat tent. I got the local priest to come and he was anointed under the tent. I stayed at the hospital until 3 a.m. while Leslie went back to the camp to look after the other boys. I sat in the corridor praying the Rosary for the boy's recovery until a nurse came and told me that he was out of danger. They gave me a cup of tea and .1 returned on foot to the camp with the good news. In a few days he was up and about, causing as much confusion and trouble in the hospital as he had done in the classroom. I never heard what happened to him when he left school, though I would not be surprised to learn that he was a Bishop or an Abbot by now!
In 1933 we lay masters were warned to look for other employment, as the Salvatorian Provincial intended to employ only members of the Society in the College. I decided to go and live with my brother who was a priest in New Zealand, to keep house for him and to help in the Church. The boys gave me a very hearty farewell (glad to see the last of me!) and an engraved silver watch which I used for many years until it went the way of most badly used watches. For the past 20 years I have been at the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament in Christchurch in New Zealand and now find the cycle has come around full and I am at the moment, where I began these reminiscences, at the Salvatorian College in Harrow Weald.
Gerald F. Seward.
