Play-Acting

In the words of Baden-Powell, from "Lessons on the 'Varsity of Life."

     I AM convinced that the play-acting which was encouraged among us boys [at Charterhouse] by that broad-minded and far-seeing Headmaster, Dr. Haig-Brown, was of great value to us in after-life.      It was not necessarily with a view to our going on the stage, however, that the Headmaster encouraged us to act but rather as a useful bit of general education.
     For instance, it brought us boys to appreciate for the first time something of the values and beauties of poetic expression. It taught us to memorise speeches, to express ourselves without self-conscious awkwardness before an audience, to articulate clearly, to use apt phrases, so to modulate voice and gesture as to grip and hold our hearers; moreover it taught us that valuable asset of being able to gauge their responsiveness; all in fact that was helpful later on in public speaking.
     Whether it was for the pleasure of showing off I cannot now say but I certainly enjoyed acting for its own sake, and its pursuit led me to many new and interesting experiences.

Sea Scouting

In the words of Baden-Powell, from "Lessons on the 'Varsity of Life."

       Although I had missed the guidance of a father, I, as seventh son, got a good training at the hands of my brothers during my holidays. These all had the sporting instinct strongly developed and were good comrades together, first-rate swimmers, footballers, oarsmen, etc. All were good at devising things that they could not afford to buy, even to building a boat.
       We built our own huts, made our fishing, rabbit, and bird-trapping nets, and thus caught and cooked our own food to our hearts’ and stomachs’ content.
       In all of this I, as junior, had to take my share of the work, especially that part of it which would naturally be delegated to a junior, such as gutting the fish and rabbits (a really filthy job!), some of the cooking, and very much of the washing up.
       But it was all very good for me.
       As money came in we were able to buy a collapsible boat, in which three of us, among other expeditions, made the journey from London up the Thames to practically its source, then with a portage over the hills we went down the Avon via Bristol, across the Severn, and up the Wye to our then small home in Wales. A fairly adventurous journey, especially when crossing seven miles of Severn in our cockle-shell, but at the same time a very educative one for me.
       Eventually, when our money ran to it, we brothers became owners of a ten-ton cutter, built to my brother Warrington’s design, and in her we had the time of our lives, cruising round the coasts of Scotland and England at all seasons of the year. Many a scrape — in both senses of the word — we got into and  got out of and thereby gained a lot of useful experiences.
       Some of these I will deal with later, but from the educational point of view the discipline, the endurance of hardships and the facing of danger involved in this cruising, were points of lasting value in one’s training for life.

The Copse

In the words of Baden-Powell, from "Lessons on the 'Varsity of Life."

       When I was a small boy at Charterhouse, outside the school walls was “The Copse,” a long stretch of woodland on a steep hill- side, extending for a mile or so round the playing fields.
       It was here that I used to imagine myself a backwoodsman trapper and Scout. I used to creep about warily looking for “sign” and getting “close up” observation of rabbits, squirrels, rats, and birds.
       As a trapper I set my snares, and when I caught a rabbit or hare (which wasn’t often) I learned by painful experiment to skin, clean, and cook him. But knowing that the Redskins were about, in the shape of masters looking for boys out of bounds, I used a very small non-smoky fire for fear of giving away my whereabouts.
       Incidentally, also, I gained sufficient cunning to hide up in trees when danger of this kind threatened, since experience told me that masters hunting for boys seldom looked upward. The Greeks made a bloomer when they styled man “anthropos,” or “he who looks up,” since in practice he generally fails to look above his own level.
       Thus, without knowing it I was gaining an education that was to be of infinite value to me later.
       It proved not only a help to me in the hunting of big game and also in the conduct of Scouting, but incidentally it started in me the habit of noticing small details or “sign” and of putting this and that together and so reading a meaning from them — in other words the invaluable habit of Observation and Deduction.

Theatricals

In the words of Baden-Powell, from "Lessons on the 'Varsity of Life."

In addition to what I learned in school — which wasn’t an overwhelming lot — there was a great deal that I learned at school, outside the classroom, which was of value to me. Also I learned more still in my holidays, from my brothers.

These additional sources of education were: Theatricals, The Woods, Seamanship. Later on I got more advanced lessons through: Foreign Travel, Big Game Hunting, Active Service.

I had thought of calling this book Bombshells of my Life. My reasons for doing so was that most of the important steps in my career have been unexpectedly sprung upon me by fortune or outside agencies.

THEATRICALS

       My first bombshell fell upon me when, as a small boy at Charterhouse, I suddenly found myself ordered to play the leading part, Bob Nettles, in a comedy called — To Parents and Guardians.

Dr. Haig-Brown, who had very far-sighted views, looked upon play-acting as a useful means of education for certain intellects among the boys, and so he encouraged, in fact almost ordered, theatricals among us.

I was thus among the fortunate ones commandeered, and have ever been thankful for the start it gave me in that line, and which ultimately afforded me a helpful training towards public speaking and self- expression, but more especially towards efficiency in spying by developing the essential ability to change one’s character, voice and appearance to meet the occasion.

Formal Education at School and Opinions About That

In the words of Baden-Powell, from "Lessons on the 'Varsity of Life."

When I was thirteen I went up to Edinburgh and tried for a scholarship at Fettes College. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship as one of the original foundationers. But I did not after all avail myself of it, for my luck went further. Only a week or two later I was granted a foundation scholarship at Charterhouse.  This I accepted.

I was not a clever boy, nor, I grieve to say, was I as industrious a boy as I ought to have been.

According to the school reports I began fairly well in my conduct but deteriorated as I went on.

The other day I wanted to inspire my son, Peter, to work harder at school and win good reports from his masters, so I pulled out my own old school reports and invited him to inspect them. “Now look at this” — I said — “um — er — well p’raps not that one.”  (In it Monsieur Buisson had said of me — “Fair — could behave better.”) “Well then this — No.” (In it Mr. Doone recorded me as “Unsatisfactory” and my classical master as “taking very little interest in his work.”)

When, in spite of these uncomplimentary remarks, I succeeded in getting into the Sixth Form [like our high school], my new classical master, the well-known Dr. T.E. Page, generously reported that I was “satisfactory in every respect,” but the mathematical authority countered this by saying that I “had to all intents given up the study of mathematics,” and it was further stated that in French I “could do well, had become very lazy, often sleeping in school,” and in Natural Science that I “paid not the slightest attention.”

Thus my form-masters generally do not appear to have had a very high opinion of my qualities. The headmaster, however, that characterful educationist, Dr. Haig-Brown, managed in spite of their criticisms to see some promise in me, and reported that my “ability was greater than would appear by the results of my form work, and he was very well satisfied with my conduct.”

This spark of encouragement afterwards fanned itself into a flame of energy when later on I found it really necessary to work.

I have been comforted to find that greater men than I have also shown that they were no geniuses in school subjects. Winston Churchill, in his delightful book My Early Life, confesses that he could not grasp either classics or mathematics when at school.

My classical knowledge was of no higher order than my mathematical, but I cannot see how or where it would have benefited me later on in life. I do see, however, where a real knowledge of a foreign language or two as well as of English, of science, of book-keeping, and of general history and geography, or at any rate the method and practice of acquiring these, would have been invaluable.

To impose both Greek and Latin grammar on young boys not a bit interested in them seems to me as stupid a waste of time as making unmusical girls spend endless hours in learning to play scales on the piano.

I know that I am displaying my ignorance of the science and theory of education by saying this, but I am merely speaking from results I have seen in the world.

Of course, my strictures don’t apply to-day. Educational progress and improvement have developed in the half-century since I was at school, but traditional methods die hard, and they fail to produce so many able leaders or social servants as they should out of the thousands of young men that the schools send into the world each year.

There are too many drones as yet in our hive, there is too great a waste of that human material which, especially at the present juncture, would be invaluable to the country if adequately educated to the joy and adventure of energetic Service.

Education at Home

In the words of Baden-Powell, from "Lessons on the 'Varsity of Life."

       My education came from several sources — home, school, travel, sport, etc.
       Now, some of you will think — “Yes, that’s all very well, but you (meaning me) probably had a good start with lots of money and tons of luck.” I certainly had tons of luck. But luck is a thing like pluck, you may have some of it come to you, but you can make it to a very large extent for yourself.
       But I certainly had no money.  When your father is a clergyman with fourteen children, and you are the last but two, there is not much money flying around for you.
       From my father I derived but little in the way of education for he died when I was but three years old.
       This was a great loss to me for he was a man of many parts.
       Fortunately for me my father’s character was attacked some nine years after his death, by Dr. Pusey, who wrote such imputations against his Christianity which drew a chorus of indignation and refutation from those who had known him and admired his broad-minded views. If these were in advance of their time (for he was a scientist as well as a preacher) they were views which are freely discussed and generally accepted to-day. Had it not been for this defense of him I might never have known his qualities.
       The whole secret of my getting on lay with my mother, born Henrietta Grace Smyth. How that wonderful woman managed to bring us all up, so that none of us did badly; and how she did not kill herself with the anxiety and strain I do not know and cannot understand.
       Not only did she, though a poor widow, feed, clothe and educate us, but she found time to do other work in the world. It was her influence that guided me through life more than any precepts or discipline that I may have learned at school.