PAGE
15
From
the Summer 1957 edition of The Pelican
Choose the article you wish to read:
- Cardinal's Day
- The May Day
Pilgrimage
- Wembley
- Ali Baba and the
Forty Thieves
- St Columba's
Notes
- Old Boys' Corner
CARDINAL'S
DAY
Author Unknown
from The Pelican, Summer 1957, lent to us by Anthony McCaffrey
(Each year a day is set aside to commemorate in a special way the work and
spirit of the founder of the White Fathers, Cardinal Lavigerie; normally it
is held on March 27th, the anniversary of his episcopal consecration).
MOST of the inhabitants of Southampton must be familiar with the ugly black
and orange funnels of the Queen
Elizabeth yet few of them have the opportunity of seeing the many hundreds who
arrive or leave for America each fortnight in this great liner. Now and again,
however, the photograph of some important passenger appears in the pages, of
the local paper. We were delighted that the arrival of Bishop Rugambwa
from America made headlines in the Southern Daily Echo on May 21st.
When His Lordship left for the States in October last year he promised to visit
the Priory on his return if it were at all possible. How pleased we were when
we knew that the promise could be kept! It was agreed that the visit should
not pass without some special celebration and as it had been impossible to celebrate
Cardinal's Day at the end of last term it was agreed that the two events might
be celebrated together.
Father Superior was at the Ocean Terminal to meet His Lordship and escort him
back to the Priory where a noisy and hearty welcome was given him by the boys.
On the following morning the Bishop said the community Mass and later assisted
at the High Mass celebrated by Father Superior.
Before lunch Bishop Rugambwa spoke to all of us for three quarters of an hour,
giving us information about his diocese of Rutabo and outlining his visit to
America. His Lordship told us that in America he had asked for help; he asked
for our help too, especially in the form of prayer.
Two of the Fathers from the Montfort College, Romsey, accepted our invitation
to lunch. The Salesians were represented by two of the staff from the Salesian
Senior Seminary. The chaplain of Wickham Convent was the only other guest.
In the afternoon after the entire school had been photographed with the bishop,
a short concert was presented. This consisted of a one act play about an episode
in the life of the Cardinal, a piano recital and—what has become traditional
on Cardinal's Day—a missionary quiz.
A miniature photographic exhibition depicting various events in a student's
life from his entry into the Junior Seminary until Ordination and arrival in
Africa, was artistically prepared by one of the Fathers: it proved to be great
attraction.
Unfortunately Bishop Rugambwa had to leave for London early that same evening.
Although his visit was brief, we were once more impressed by the dignity and
gentleness of this African prelate whose presence among us made this year's
Cardinal's Day a truly memorable occasion,
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THE MAY DAY PILGRIMAGE
by Patrick Burns, Form IV
from The Pelican, Summer 1957, lent to us by Anthony McCaffrey
It has become a tradition at the Priory that we take part in the world-wide May
Day celebrations. What could be more fitting for us than a pilgrimage to some
shrine of the Queen of the May ? The nearest shrine is that of Our Lady of Winton
and as in past years our pilgrimage took us once again to the Lady Chapel in the
Church at Winchester.
Everyone felt very enthusiastic about the idea—even when it was announced
that rising would be an hour earlier than usual! All were ready for the road at
eight o'clock, except the Fifth and Sixth who, much to the delight of the lower
forms, were commissioned to do the breakfast washing-up. As the weather was fine
there was no delay in departing.
Winchester is some ten miles from our village and as the Solemn High Mass was
timed for half-past eleven there was no necessity to race. But a team of Clydesdales
could not have held some of the Third and Fourth formers to a walking pace and,the
first two groups were in Winchester by a quarter to ten, having politely refused
innumerable lifts.
Inhabitants of the one-time English capital must have been puzzled at the sight
of sweating, limping boys making for the bus station buffet where a very high
percentage of Winchester's tea, coffee and orange squash supply was disposed of.
Before Mass there was still time for the inevitable visit to Smith's and the public
library.
Well before the appointed hour things were a-bustle in the small side chapel of
St Peter's but there was absolute stillness as the procession of celebrant and
ministers made its way slowly to the Lady Altar. As the Sacred Drama proceeded
and the plainchant echoed down the empty nave I realised how vain was the splendid
pageantry of other May Day celebrations compared with the simplicity and sublimity
of this Eternal Act.
After a picnic lunch, most of the City's parks, churches, museums. libraries,
cafés and cinemas (outside only) were inspected. Although there were the
undaunted few who made the ten mile return journey on foot most boys showed their
appreciation of thoughtfulness of the directors of the Hants and Dorset Omnibus
Company who had planned a bus service from Winchester to Bishop's Waltham.
A wonderful day was brought to a close by Fr. Burton showing some excellent
slides of "his" mission and we went to bed that night happy in our hearts—though
less so in our "soles."
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WEMBLEY
by James Quinn, Form III
from The Pelican, Summer 1957, lent to us by Anthony McCaffrey
To most schoolboys, a visit to Wembley Stadium is a dream never to be realised.
This "Mecca of Football" is as impregnable as it is wonderful and lucky
indeed are those who are privileged to enter it.
That is why Saturday, March 30th, was a red-letter day for all Priorians. The
English Schoolboys were playing the Welsh boys and we were going to the match.
We were visiting London Airport en route and this added attraction lent glamour
to the already splendid outing.
The day dawned bright and clear—as it always does—and some forty boys
gathered impatiently round the coach and talked loudly of last year's match and
the merciless hiding which the Welsh boys would receive.
At last we started off and soon the beautiful Hampshire and Surrey countryside
was behind us as we sped on towards London.
In what seemed a very short time we were at the main entrance to London Airport
and already the plane-spotters were showing signs of feverish excitement as planes
of many types could be seen landing and taking-off.
As we emerged from the half-mile tunnel which links the centre of the airport
with the main road and drew up in front of the Queen's Building, we were joined
by a cheerful faced guide who boarded our coach with a microphone and amplifier.
After giving us a brief account of the history of the aerodrome and the workings
of the control tower, he directed our driver to drive right round the airfield
while he kept up a running commentary on its working and answered the numerous
questions fired at him by the eager Priorians. He was greeted with gasps of amazement
when he told us how many times our coach would fit into one of the huge freight
planes. Cameras were hastily focused as we passed under the nose of a Britannia
and past a Skymaster undergoing engine tests.
Our tour carried us round the repair sheds and hangars of all the different air
companies. It felt good to ignore all "Private" notices as our guide
was determined to show us everything.
Lunch followed on the roof of the Queen's Building, from where we could see all
the activities of the passenger staff and the refuelling and repair crews.
Then on to Wembley for the match! While still a long way from the stadium the
roads began to teem with coaches filled with noisy cheerful schoolchildren, all
converging on the great stadium.
Tension mounted as we caught our first glimpse of the famous towers, only to ease
again as we dipped behind a hill, topped by towering blocks of flats.
Programme vendors loudly advertised their wares as we joined the bustling, chattering
crowd of boys on the way up to the entrance. There was a strange scarcity of red
rosettes in the crowd so a small band of Priorians remembered obscure Welsh ancestry
and swelled the ranks of the Welsh supporters.
We passed the time before the kick-off by watching the inevitable brass band and
joining in the high pitched screaming that was community singing. This noise,
however, was nothing to that which greeted the teams as they marched out side
by side on to the lush Wembley turf .
As the teams were presented to Viscount Montgomery the crowd was hushed as if
saving its acclaim for the play itself. It didn't have to wait long! The match
was only seven seconds old when the English were one up. Without a Welsh boy having
touched it, the ball found its way into the net through the quick accurate passing
of the English forwards. The English boys continued to press home their advantage
while the Welsh lads were still fumbling around in the nervous stage.
The game developed into a ding-dong struggle but it was obvious that the bigger,
stronger English boys would last the pace better. The Welsh goal had a few narrow
escapes before the interval but the Welsh forwards also had their moments and
impressed with direct purposeful attacks.
Play was much the same after the interval but the Welsh boys were weakened by
the loss of their centre-forward through injury. The remaining ten held out gallantly,
however, and it was not until near the end that England increased its lead with
a well-taken goal.
England were still two goals ahead when the final whistle blew and as the tired
players lined up to receive their medals, they received a tumultuous ovation from
the delighted crowd.
In a very short time the game was being replayed—on the coach as it sped
towards the Priory—and long and many were the arguments. But soon the great
day would be only a happy memory to look back on or be recounted to admiring friends
for just as we look back happily on this great day, we will, just as surely, look
forward to next year's Wembley Day.
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ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES
by Patrick Shanahan, Form IV
from The Pelican, Summer 1957, lent to us by Anthony McCaffrey
The title immediately sets one thinking of dimly lit streets with sly Arabs conversing
in whispers and fingering ugly looking knives! Shortly before Christmas last year
it would not have been necessary to go to Arabia to find such a setting for the
Priory gym was transformed into a miniature Arabia for the staging of Ali Baba
and the Forty Thieves, the third annual pantomime.
One Sunday evening after supper Fr. Thompson called out a list of names.
Everyone knew that from that list the characters for the 1956 pantomime would
be chosen. Scripts were handed out and rehearsals started almost immediately.
Anyone who has ever had a part in a play or pantomime will know that the beginning
is always painful. It is here that, more than anywhere else, the skill, encouragement
and patience of the producer must be exercised. However, no matter how much the
producer does the success or failure of a show depends very much on the enthusiasm
and devotedness of the actor himself.
On this occasion besides all the preparations made by the cast, vast changes were
being made on the stage: width and depth were increased, back cloths were fitted
and new lighting installed. Stage and play took shape together; Fr. Thompson playing
the dual rôle of producer and carpenter—the one by day, the other by
night.
Time did not stand still and before we knew where we were the first night had
arrived, and all was ready; backcloths and scenery painted by Fr. Lynch
were completed; sets of fine costumes made thanks mainly to the patience and kindness
of mothers of the actors were fitted. So with make-up radiant and a last word
of encouragement from the producer the curtains went up.
The audience enjoyed it all—the wretched state of Ali Baba so changed by
the discovery of the cave; the thrill of the magic words "Open Sesame";
the rage and roguery of Al Roschoun, the leader of the brigands ; the clowning
of Smashem, and Grabbem, the bravery of Kemal, Ali's son, and the love of Morgiana,
the slave girl, for him; the hilarious crowd scenes and the rousing choruses.
The actors enjoyed it too and as the curtains dropped for the last time they concealed
a cast sorry that it was over for living in Arabia had been rather fun.
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ST COLUMBA'S NOTES
Author Unknown
from The Pelican, Summer 1957, lent to us by Anthony McCaffrey
No major developments here since Christmas appear to call for mention. Some minor
improvements have been effected such as the renovation of the boys' showers. But
what does leap to mind, for it is still fresh in the memory and unlikely ever
to be effaced, is the burning of the boys' recreation hut.
One of the college outhouses, it had watched over the birth and steady growth
of the main building. Tradition informs us that it housed the first workmen that
laboured on the College. Subsequently it served as chapel and classroom. The writer
first remembers it as a recreation room for the students of Philosophy, when it
shook under such fierce games as "Hunch, Cuddy, Hunch."
Without, over the years, there was little change to be seen, but within alterations
of various kinds had taken place: the sports room moved from one end to the other;
a new tuck shop constructed. Yet, though useful, it had always been somewhat bare
inside until shortly after Christmas the Superior set about making it more homely.
With help of the fathers it took on a most attractive appearance and a place of
which the boys were truly proud. Not least among its amenities were two fluorescent
lights—a thing of which even the main house could not boast.
But . . . barely three weeks of pleasant use had elapsed when the tragedy occurred.
A few minutes before nine in the morning of the 10th April a boy rushed into the
house with the cry that the hut was on fire. Though we set to work immediately
and two of the local fire engines were on the scene within minutes, by eleven
it was a heap of smouldering timbers.
Of the movables within we had been able to rescue little, but from the storeroom
beneath most was pulled out before the final collapse. What caused the fire we
still do not know: that it was not due to any carelessness we are, however, certain.
Now one of our two classrooms is being used as a recreation room and classes are
being given in the study hall. We are grateful for the many expressions of sympathy
and for the gifts of money and kind which began to flow in. It remains now to
decide where and when a new and we trust more solid recreation room is to be built.
The house gardens begun by the boys during the first term and so unpromising during
the long winter months are now a pleasant sight with their neat rows of turnip,
lettuce, leek, etc. A local horticultural adviser has already passed a preliminary
judgment on them and they are to be assessed against that at the end of June when
prizes will go to the first and second houses.
Once again we have pleasure in presenting some of the students' literary efforts
and anticipate your agreement that when compared with the Christmas selection,
at least as far as the verse is concerned, they show some progress towards a surer
footing on the steeps of Helicon.
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OLD
BOYS' CORNER
Author Unknown
from The Pelican, Summer 1957, lent to us by Anthony McCaffrey
Since the last issue of The Pelican, many old boys have made contact with us
and with each other: which seems to indicate that the Corner is serving its
purpose. The following message from Kevin Hynes at Blacklion may give
to our readers the same pleasure and satisfaction that it gave me:
A.M.D.G. June, 1957 .
No doubt, Fr. Editor, you have received many appreciations from ex-students
on the brilliant idea of an "Old Boys' Corner" in the Pelican: well,
here are a few you should have received, but didn't!
". . . received the magazine,
and I haven't thanked you yet, better late than never! Thanks a lot. I meant
to write to the editor but I never really got down to it . . . (he continues)
... I don't suppose you have ever had any of this German Beer, but you can
have it for me. It's a chemical sort of stuff. The effects stays with you
for days. Horrible stuff!"
—Sg/mn. Preston, Dusseldorf, Germany.
" . . . Many thanks for the Pelican magazine. I enjoyed it very much.
I'm much interested in the 'Old Boys' Corner'... one of these days after much
thought I will send along some small article ... I'm O.K. and still going
strong at work (apprentice mechanic, the best paid job too). (This was found
out later)."
—H. O'Donnell, Coventry
" . . . Those Pelicans were almost a gift from heaven. It's surprising
how much one gets out of touch with the Priory. At the mere mentioning of some
of the Old Priorians I immediately remembered them. The 'Old Boys' Comer' is
a smashing plan, especially the Association part and the reunions."
—Cpl. Smith, Singapore.
" . . . I did get to Africa before you, and what I have seen of the dark
Continent I must say I like: so I have arrived at last in Africa, the land of
the lion and the leopard, to stay for the remainder of my Army service. We did
have visions of lions, etc, trying to tear down doors but the wildest animal
I have seen so far is the gazelle; mind you, there are plenty of lizards. However,
I have plenty of time to see the wild game of Africa at Her Malesty's expense!
. . . A week ago on Saturday we went out to Nakuru. We just looked around the
town, and then went for a tea which consisted of real fish and chips—our
first fish and chip supper since leaving the U.K., and they were terrific .
. . I hope to be present at one of the 'Old Boys' Ass.' meetings, but of course
that is in the distant future."
—L/Cpl. Kavanagh, Kenya.
We have had some visitors since Christmas and thereabouts. Paul McGarraghy,
who is now in the Marines and looking very smart and healthy, spent a day or
two with us. We also had Peter Machin on leave from his R.A.F. Station
in Norfolk for Easter week. He is apparently like so many Old Boys in the services
engaged in the pay-office. What special training in the handling of money do
our students receive to fit them for these financial positions . . . ?
Then there was Ernest White who is a male nurse at Farnborough Hospital
in Kent and who rides a very nice little motor-cycle. He called on his way to
the West Country with camping gear on the back of his machine. Lastly we had
a pleasant visit on two occasions from Joe McCall (1937-39) who promised
to send us copy for the Corner. He is teaching French in a Hertfordshire preparatory
school and seems very happy.
Joe was particularly glad to hear about a contemporary of his who is now almost
a neighbour, Paddy McNamara, who had written enquiring about another
erstwhile Priorian.
Paddy now uses quite striking notepaper which gives one the impression that
he is prosperous. He had a bad spell after the war, with T.B., and now is an
L.G. of S., whatever that may be ... his title is Certified Building Surveyor,
and he asks whether at any time he might be of use to The Priory. It is badly
in need of rebuilding !
Many other letters have come with greetings and goodwill messages and for them
we are grateful. All have been answered—that is something we promise to
do. Normally we will not report on movements and progress of students who have
left us for other schools. When they go out to make their mark in or on the
world they will qualify for honourable mention.
We want to hear from them all however.
OLD BOYS TO BE REMEMBERED:
JOE BATTY (Big Joe) is now
an assistant cook in the Merchant Navy and doing extremely well for himself.
At present aboard the M.V. Elpenar of the Blue Funnel line, he relates how
while proceeding at 12 knots during the night, the vessel struck a whale that
had surfaced ; after spending threequarters of an hour trying to free itself,
the ship made for port where extensive repairs were carried out. Good old
Joe.
GERALD ROBINSON (Bouncer) is also in the Merchant Navy and has already
reached the height of assistant purser. In league with Elder Dempster Co.,
Gerry is on the regular run to and from West Africa and enjoys the job very
much in spite of the great heat which plays havoc with folk of rotund figure.
Both are very grateful for the "Pelican" and promise an article.
Regarding the reunion of Old Boys
which we suggested in the last issue for August 4th, we would like to know at
once how many would attend. Once we know that we might arrange a rendezvous
more accessible than The Priory. It is understood that families will be welcome
and catered for. So do not forget to write if you would like a meeting with
former school friends. If there are not sufficient replies by July 20th we will
postpone the meeting to a more favourable time.
Stop Press: Leo Smith, who is making a name for himself in Dublin
as a baritone, was able to take part in the end of term concert at the Priory
where he impressed everyone not only by his delightful singing but by his happy
manner. All power to his voice!
From Blacklion we received the following communications (sample only) :
MAN
0 MAN
The advent of Brother Patrick to the banks of McNean has had profound
repercussions in the depths of the lough. For not only does he take a fiendish
delight in ploughing the waters
in a bedridden old boat, which has for years scorned its assigned place on
the ocean bed, but he insists, to the amusement of the community, on trawling
a line of spoon-bait that exhibits (among other things) a sawn off toothbrush
and a sparking plug which in its hey day hauled the Fordson Chariot around
Galleydown.
That the community is not alone in its astonishment at Brother Patrick's delightful
Sunday evening entertainment has become obvious from the increasing number
of roach and pike that dance and leap in the wake of the "Maggie."
Flat out at 2.5 knots and bent on her dark deeds, her position, amid the shoals
of delighted fish, is only apparent to the watchful eye on shore by the constant
glint of the bailing can and the puffs of smoke and steam from her protesting
engines.
Seriously, though, to say that these many expeditions have never produced
a solitary fish would be wrong—they have: it was a roach.
Undaunted and stimulated by the tales of the Witan ranged about the lough
shores, Brother Paddy awaits the day when the 40-pounder which has just slipped
the line at the last moment will attest his prowess and the community will
have gone under to him, hook, line and sinker.
THE STARBOARD ENGINE (Blacklion) .
ADDRESSES
P. D. McNamara, L.G. of S., 10 Newlands Lane, Hitchin, Herts
4194354 A.C.2 Cassidy, R.A.F., Compton & Bassett, Calne, Wilts
4188415 L.A.C. Machin, Pay Accounts, R.A.F., Swanton Morley, Norfolk
Ernest White, Farnborough Hospital, Farnborough, Kent.
WEDDING BELLS (by way of postscript)
Returning from a preaching jaunt in the North the editor was accosted by a striking
young man who boarded the train at Rugby . . . who turned out to be John
Gately (1953-54), now a tea-broker with Military Service behind him. He
carried a British Railways guide to British Hotels, and it turned out that he
was getting married . . . "awful fag," he thought!