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It was a warm, bright afternoon early in September 1926 when I stepped off the 'bus outside St. Joseph's, Wealdstone, and faced a brightly coloured wilderness of overgrown rose trees. To the left, one behind the other, were two tin buildings, both needing paint. The near one boasted a toy steeple, complete with bell, whilst from the farther came the sound of children's voices: St. Joseph's Parish Church and the Parochial School! This was not quite what I was looking for, but then, more to the right and still farther from the road, there was a square looking house. That must be it, I thought and made by way up to St. Mary's College (to give it the then official title! ). It seemed to me rather small for its purpose, but somehow there was a homeliness about it. I rang the bell.
That afternoon was unforgettable and bewildering; especially confusing in the number of people to whom I was introduced, and I never was good at remembering names. But now the wonder is that I should ever forget them: Fr. Gabriel Enderle, the Superior; Fr. Osmund Boecker, the Parish Priest; Fr. Donatus Mueller, the Bursar; Fr. Charles Pradarutti, who was to charm us with his music, his learning, intensive as well as extensive. Lastly the mainstays of the Community, Brothers Trudo Corneillisen and Gabriel Manni. The former was to tyrannize over us and everybody else, keeping the economy on an even keel whilst making observations (wise or otherwise we rarely knew!) in an extraordinary mixture of German, Flemish, French and English. Brother Gabriel, gentle brown-eyed Gabriel, also indulged in languages, but he rarely mixed them. Latin, Italian, French, German, English were all the same to him and in the little time he could spare from his many chores, he practised on the organ (yes, we had a large organ! ), tried his hand at painting and studied various other European languages.
In addition to the community were the students, a carefree lot, now scattered far and wide, and some have gone to their reward. They were happy days, cheerful, poverty stricken days, but never empty boring days. After supper we would often make our way through a hole in the fence and amble gently through the fields as far as Pinner Church, returning in time for night prayers. We were always ready for bed. Going to bed was not the complicated business it had been but a week or so before. No longer had a ladder to be precariously placed against the wall by the head of the stairs on the first floor whilst someone mounted to push up the trap-door leading to the attic and then descended to lean the ladder more securely against the aperture. Now, at the end of the corridor a new flight of stairs had been installed so that we could mount to the surprisingly roomy quarters under the sloping roof. It was certainly a more convenient method of approach; but going to bed had lost much of its adventure.
It was in that same September that the Grammar School opened. Of course, although obvious preparations for building were strewn everywhere, there was no school. On the ground floor of the original house, looking out towards the road was a bay window, in the bay of which stood the altar of the community chapel. This altar and the other furniture had to be dismantled and removed upstairs to make way for the boys who were to be the nucleus of the new school. There in that tiny room a literal handful of boys began to make the history of the Salvatorian College. Their faces are still before me as I write, and the sound of their voices reciting Latin and German declensions in fancy yet assails my ears.
Meanwhile the building went on rapidly with much noise, dirt and odour, the last-named came from the water-logged ground in which the foundations were being laid.
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Very Rev. Fr. Gabriel Enderle S.D.S.
Founder of the Salvatorian College, Harrow Weald
Commissiary Provincial of the English Province
of
The Society of the Divine Saviour
until 1947.
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To return to the attic. The more convenient quarters retained their comfort for only a few weeks. Although we still had the stairs, a somewhat disconcerting change took place. In order to join the school building to the house, the gable wall and part of the roof had to be removed. It was just bad luck that the attic was thus left open to the sky and a very nice view of Kodak and Harrow School. Of course, every cloud has its silver lining, and October, like September was warm and dry. November was neither, and the best that can be said for December was that whilst never warm, it was not always wet.
Months passed, pupils increased in number and the new building was completed. Before the second school year started the numbers had been increased to about eighty, the first school magazine had been published and the Houses of Gabriel and Francis had been founded. The older Old Boys will remember, and the newer be surprised, that Gabriel's colour was gold and that of Francis was an uninspired brown. These colours remained until years later two other Houses were founded, and Gabriel changed to Royal Blue, Francis to Gold, Campion took Red and Becket Purple. Shortages in the years following the war caused Becket to change to Green, purple dye being difficult to obtain.
Some of the records made in that first year of sports have, so I am told, not yet been broken. "There were giants in those days! "
It was in that same year that the first school magazine was published and contained a poem after Chaucer by the late Mr. Rose, a man devoted to the school and the boys and one who taught them to love music and the beauties of the English Language. Mr. McCue with his love of Drama, Mr. Johnson with his passion for Browning are also some of the names that summon up vividly for me those early days.
My own job was a varied one. I tried my hand at Greek, Latin and Mathematics, though the coming of Fr. Ignatius took the last-named from me. In the time that was free from lessons, we all lent a hand in keeping the school clean and in peeling potatoes and washing dishes, for many of the boys had their meals at school. There was still time, in spite of this seemingly very full day, for other pursuits, and I well remember how I enjoyed helping the late Bede Kerswill with his chemistry experiments. This interest of mine in Chemistry came to an abrupt end after we had succeeded in blowing up the Lab. It is to be recorded in his favour that Father Cuthbert, the headmaster, was very reasonable about the affair. Sometimes, in my opinion, Fr. Cuthbert erred too much on the side of kindness, as when he would in quite a number of cases neglect to demand the very small fees from parents who could well afford to pay them. I was not so reasonable and whenever I helped him to send out bills, I would often use more peremptory language. Whilst ever grateful for the additional funds, resulting from my more direct methods, he nevertheless always felt very guilty about them and did not overcome his reluctance about their use.
Fr. BRENDAN KEOGH, S.D.S.
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