A Glance Backat my

St Michael’s College Daysby

Jack Robbins(1939-1941)

The College in 1945

Mont Saint-Michel

A Glance Back at my St Michael's College Days

In May 1939 when I was 12 years old, our family moved from London to Hitchin. I found this generally unsettling, but particularly with regard to schooling. I had been progressing well at St Joseph’s Academy, Blackheath, but a change of school involved new teachers, new fellow pupils, new text books, new syllabuses, a new uniform and new routines. The change from being top of my London class to near bottom of my Hitchin class was hard to accept. Fr James Whitworth, the Headmaster, who also taught us French, was very kind in helping me to settle in - q u i t e unlike Brother Patrick the Christian Brother Headmaster at St Joseph's who terrified the life out of us.

An early memory was of a History lesson on King Charles I taken by Fr John Scott. When I say a lesson, he merely read to us from a book . Sudden ly he barked , "Why i s n ' t tha t boy tak ing notes?" 'That boy' was me. I had no idea how to take notes. "Please Father, he's a new boy", someone volunteered. Fr John on that occasion did not utter his frequent memorable observation, "That boy will end up on the gallows".

In later years I grew to like Fr John. He coached our (junior) football and cricket teams, and took us to play against other local schools. I still' have ringing in my ears, "Keep up on your wing, Robbins", and "Keep a straight bat, Robbins."

He was an excellent painter, both decorator and artist, painting the exterior woodwork of the College or ‘scenery’ for school plays. He also had a mischievous sense of humour. I often served h i s Masses at the Carmelite monastery where, at that time, as a penance, the nuns chanted in choir on a monotone, the initial pitch being set by one nun on a pitch-pipe. After Mass one day Fr John asked the extern nun, "Sister, who is your organist?"

Towards the end of his life at Foxholes, Fr John, having erroneously been told by his Doctor that he had not long to l ive, retired to his room and sadly lived a reclusive life for several more years. I once asked him if he was looking forward to Heaven. "Gracious me, n o , " he replied. "I know my way about down here."

Fr John always cycled to Carmel, though I believe he did own a motorbike. Other Chaplains had various modes of transport: Fr Walter Robertson drove a snorting motorbike; Fr Bonaventure Blanc walked; Fr Andrew Beck drove an ancient car. When giving me a l i f t back one day, Fr Andrew scared me by turning off the ignition at the top of Hitchin Hill and coasting to the bottom to save petrol.

Fr Andrew, an excellent teacher took our class for history and mathematics in the fourth year. On St Andrew's Day 1940, he relaxed and read us a story. I remember that it was ‘The Sinking of the Titanic’. Pupils were rather more relaxed: some of them had already placed clocks under the teacher's dais with their alarms timed to go off during the lesson. They duly did so. Fr Andrew did not bat an eyelid, and patiently waited for each peal to finish. When the dinner bell sounded at the end of the l es son we a l l p repared to l eave but Fr Andrew qu ie t ly said, "Gentlemen, I think you owe me nine minutes." So we had to wait for him to finish the story.

Fr Andrew also played cricket and football with the seniors. I am told that he still played cricket when later he was a Bishop. For day-boys the morning school assembly began in the hall with a prayer, led by Fr Andrew followed by the roll-call. Boarders were of course deemed to be already in house. If present, your response was, "Adsum"; woe betide any joker who muttered, "Absum".

My brother Michael and I often amused ourselves on the way home from school by chanting the

rol1-cal1:Alderton, Ashton, Bailey, Beadsworth, Bennett, Burke, Devine, Doling, Ellis, Gooch I, Gooch II . . . . . . . . " We paid careful attention to the rise in “Adsum” pitch from bass to treble for Murphy I. II..III... IV....

Teachers did not inflict punishment themselves; they gave chitties to the offender to be presented to the Prefect of Discipline for the stick. Lesser punishments included tours of the 'Penance Walk' in front of the building, detention or lines to be written - I remember, "Initium sapientiae est timor Domini ." Many past pupils will recall Fr Bonaventure's stentorian, "Go for siiixxx." As I was usually a ‘goodie’, I rarely received punishment until one day I had to present myself to Fr Andrew with my chitty. I had never had the stick before, and did not know the routine. I was soon enlightened, however, and was duly whacked. On my way back to the door, Fr Andrew recalled me and said, "Robbins, I believe that you are the only boy who has ever thanked me.”

I often stayed for school dinners. The food varied in quality, and inevitably we gave special names such as 'slosh' and 'sexless’ to unidentifiable dishes. We often swapped courses: "My sausages for your afters" was an example. I recall sometimes swapping thus with a certain David Shaw.

Most teachers could keep discipline in the classroom, though Fr Dunstan Caselaw, an excellent teacher of English, sometimes had difficulty. His oft repeated shout, "Thunder and Lightning" rarely quelled any pupil noise.

Of many possible recollections, here are just a few snapshots: Fr Bonaventure teaching us Greek with a French accent, and reserving the front desk for him to sneeze into; Fr Walter teaching us physics from a textbook - no laboratory; the priests chanting psalms in their daily lunchtime procession from the chapel through the hall to their refectory; my brother Michael and I taking refuge in the Bancroft recreation ground air raid shelter when the siren sounded on our way to school - to discover later that we were the only two missing from school and so much more.

The Assumptionists also ran the Hitchin parish. The elderly Fr Wilfred Manser ( 'Whiffer ') , a cockney who had been the first English Assumptionist ordained in 1909, was a devout, if eccentric, parish priest. Always in poor health, he lived frugally in a sparsely furnished downstairs room of the presbytery /elementary school, containing a large collection of clocks which he maintained in good working order. He v i s i t ed parishioners on an ancient 'boneshaker' motorbike. At mid-day he carried down his (initially) hot dinner from the College to his room so as not to miss any callers at the presbytery.

Every year he treated the Altar Boys to a day out. I still have a photograph taken in August 1939 in Norfolk on Hunstanton beach and recognise my contemporaries.

Left to right: Jack Robbins; John & Desmond Beadsworth; R & E Whiting; Tom & R Maher; Michael Robbins; P Bloomfield

Several of us were wearing caps and school uniforms. It was also that summer that the Hunstanton Pier was burned down, but I am sure that the two events were not l i n k e d !

Several years later, when Fr Dunstan Caselaw was Headmaster, I taught for a short time at St Michael's, mainly Latin with some French and English. I remember young Martin asking me, "Please, Sir , why do we have to learn Latin?" "Martin", I said, "You would not wish to deprive me of my bread and butter, would you?" "Oh no, S i r . " was the reply. "Well done, Martin. Carry on translating."

I was not at that time a qualified teacher, but then I suspect that nor were many, if any, of the Assumptionist Fathers.

A notable addition to the building since my schooldays was the 'Orlit ’ block providing three more classrooms and a woodwork room.

In the late 1960s my son, Anthony, was a pupil. My prime memory at that time, 1967 I believe, was of a meeting of parents at the College addressed by a diocesan priest, Mgr Bruce Kent (later Mr Bruce Kent CND) of whom I had never heard. He announced that the College was to close and that a new St Michael's would be built in Stevenage, a boys' comprehensive with no boarders. I voiced my objection that after 28 years association with the College I, and other parents, had not been consulted but were merely faced with a ‘fait accompli’ after decisions at a higher level. I was brushed aside. But by 1969 St Michael's College, Hitchin had ceased to exist and St Michael's School, Stevenage, a very different entity, had opened.

Anthony attended the new school, and 'boarded' at Foxholes in Hitchin, by kind permission of The Assumptionist Fathers. He was always proud of telling us that he had taught Fr John how to drive a tractor.

There were certain aspects of the new school that disturbed me, particularly the near absence of Religious Education for the older boys. When I raised the matter with Fr Benedict Sketchley, the Headmaster, (who was in collar and tie) at a parents' evening, he was quite unconcerned.

Whenever now I fondly gaze upon the former College site, I muse upon various worthwhile Catholic projects that could have been undertaken there, next door to the church, instead of it being sold for a song to outsiders.

It was not long before St Michael's School, Stevenage was merged with St Angela's Girls' School to form the John Henry Newman School, though there was already a Cardinal Newman School in nearby Luton. Thankfully, this seems to have developed into an excellent school, but Fr Hilary Carter and others were distraught that the name of St Michael had disappeared from Hitchin and then from Stevenage. The link with the Edmundian Apostolic School at Mont Saint-Michel was blotted out.

Jack Robbins21 Ryston End, Downham Market, Norfolk PE38 9AX

Telephone: 01366 388494