L. P. I’Anson, Lieutenant in the 4th Battalion, Yorkshire Regiment, was killed at St. Julien, near Ypres, on April 25th, 1915.
He was born in 1878 in Saltburn, and attended Bootham between 1893 and 1895. He was a solicitor, and was engaged to be married when he died.
He is included on the Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial.
In January I did a talk as part of the Thursday lunchtime recital room series. It was entitled ‘Memories from the Archives’ and I talked about a number of memories from Old Scholars. I’ll share the photographs and text from the talk in several parts on the blog. Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.
Edward Allen wrote his early recollections down. Unfortunately there’s no date of writing, but it must have been after 1875 as he refers to a house move in that year. Before coming to Bootham he had spent several years in Folkestone, and compares his experiences.
“I went to Bootham and my stay of 4 years there was fairly uneventful. I found the tone of the school very different from what I was used to, and on one occasion when I was tempted to act according to the lights of Folkestone, one of my schoolfellows said “Thou mustn’t do that, the other lads will look down on thee” so I learned to do better.” He also talks about his natural history activities: “I was keen on butterflies and shells and shared with Albert Alexander the winning collection of 1855, obtaining a watercolour paint box for my prize, which I still have.” The Natural History Society had been formed in 1834 and was an important part of school activities.
“In case anyone should suppose from this that we, from the editorial chair, regard the effects of the war on others, as well as ourselves, with something akin to tolerant cynicism, we would draw attention to the amount of really excellent work that is being done. Halfpenny newspapers may talk about shirkers, and misguided women may distribute white feathers, but for our own part we are genuinely amazed at the way in which everyone, from the greatest to the least, has shouldered the burden, each one taking upon himself that which appeared to him most necessary to be borne. At the moment we would like to draw special attention to the work of the Emergency Committee for the Assistance of Germans, Austrians, and Hungarians in Distress (convened by the Religious Society of Friends to aid innocent “Alien Enemies” in Great Britain rendered destitute by the war). It is not easy to find ways for reconstructing human society whilst war is still waging, but there can be no doubt at all that this Committee, which is assisted by several Old Scholars, is counteracting, as far as its scope and its means permit, the spirit of race hatred which has grown so terribly in the last six months. Even those who believe that every member of the German and Austrian Empires comes into the world with a double dose of original sin, if there really are such, must perceive the necessity of showing such benighted people that there is a sense of pity even in Englishmen; moreover, one direct result of the work of this committee has been the starting of a reciprocal committee to guard the distressed men and women of our own country in Germany and Austria-Hungary. But it is not for these reasons alone that we would commend the work; if it did not benefit any Englishman in the eyes of any German it would still be a work of purest Christ-like pity. The vast majority of those whose claims are considered are far less responsible for the present condition than you, O reader ! and than ourselves. Are they all to suffer, the guiltless with the guilty? And are we, then, so guiltless that we are their lawful judges? This, no less than many other things that our fellow Old Scholars are doing in these days, some of them working in secret, so that none of us know it, is a true work of love and of reconciliation. This is the way of hope.”
From ‘Bootham’ magazine, March 1915
We are glad to be able to publish the following letter from Edmund Walker to our beloved Secretary :— “I thought you might be interested to know that at least one copy of BOOTHAM has found its way into the trenches. My brother sent mine on to me here, and I have just spent a very pleasant hour in my ‘dug-out ‘ reading it. It was very interesting to read about the fellows who are working out here in the Ambulance Unit, also the list of other old Bootham boys out here. We have been in the firing line about six weeks, and, although they seem very quiet along the line, we have had plenty of thrills [censored]. It takes some time to get accustomed to the feeling that you can’t show your head without two or three bullets whizzing past it. We have also had a baptism of shells. We had one burst in a room with about thirty men in. It missed me by about two yards.”
From ‘Bootham’ magazine, March 1915
In January I did a talk as part of the Thursday lunchtime recital room series. It was entitled ‘Memories from the Archives’ and I talked about a number of memories from Old Scholars. I’ll share the photographs and text from the talk in several parts on the blog. Read Part 1 here.
George Scarr Watson wrote some reminiscences for the Sheffield branch of the Old Scholars Association, which were then reprinted in Bootham magazine in 1908, fifty years after he left school.
In the article he remembers music (or lack of it), sleep, and columns.
“The bare rooms of my day, cold, and destitute of sinful ornament, knew only the voice and the restrictions of the plain Friend. No music soothed our savage breasts save the siren strains of the Jews’ harp, and that was only tolerated for its Biblical associations. Now, I am told, string bands call up the ghosts of protesting broad brims and coal-scuttle bonnets, or would do if the sacrificial fire of a few years ago had not exorcised them and initiated a new era. Laughter and shouts are perennial, and we could do as well as our successors; we could sing too, in a way, but surreptitiously. Our choral song at 10pm one night was loud and without the refinement of a trained chorus, but the teacher who heard us need not have said he thought at first it was a party of drunken revellers returning home from their carouse.” It wasn’t until 1882 that the Committee gave the Headmaster permission to hire a piano, to be used only for practice during leisure time.
He goes on to outline his day, starting with the “wakening sound of the horrid startling bell – they always, as the little boy said, send you to bed when you are not sleepy, and make you get up when you are.” Staying in bed too late earned you columns. He says “Ten minutes’ work at twelve words per minute equals one hundred and twenty words: three syllable words extracted from Butter’s spelling book, beginning with ‘ abrogate, absolute, adamant, admiral, affable, aggravate’ (I know them still), and written on a slate.” Apparently one of the other boys at school at the time got into trouble so many times that he became very proficient, so was given a section of Virgil to be learnt instead.
Often those writing about their education expressed views about how good (or not) their style of education was, and what they thought a good education should look like. These are George’s suggested seven principles of education (his alternative to the seven arts and sciences of grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music).
A Bootham Old Scholar, Giles Cookson (1993-2000), has created a website to make available online his collection of over 2000 postcards. Many of them are of York, and there are a number of Bootham School. The website is www.thecardindex.com where you can search for postcards and also add comments.
Below are some examples from the website. Visit the website and search for Bootham School to see lots more.
The Dining Room, 1908
The Gymnasium, 1908
In January I did a talk as part of the Thursday lunchtime recital room series. It was entitled ‘Memories from the Archives’ and I talked about a number of memories of Old Scholars. I’ll publish the photographs and text from the talk in several parts on the blog.
Today I’ve chosen to focus on the memories of students have of Bootham. Accounts by Old Scholars of their time at school turn up in various places – the school magazine (often comparing their own schooldays to the present-day school that they read about); the early editions of the register often contained stories of their most notable achievements or exploits at school; often Old Scholars will send in their memories for the archive, sometimes as part of an autobiography, other times just remembering one particular incident; over the years a number of oral history recordings have been done, and memories have been collected at anniversaries of particular events. In some ways these memories are a different kind of record to the ‘official’ documents – minutes, prospectuses, reports and so on. Often you need to bear in mind that the account may be of something that happened many years earlier, is written from the perspective of one individual, and depending on the audience, may have been edited! Having said that, the memories of individuals give an amazing insight into the experience of being at Bootham over the years, and when you piece those together with other records, a much wider picture starts to emerge. The memories often mention aspects of school life that would get missed out of the ‘official’ documents, perhaps because they weren’t seen as important or noteworthy. But I think that it’s often when you start to be able to see things through the eyes of individuals that events that happened in the past seem to come alive.
I’ve picked out about half a dozen pieces of writing by Old Scholars recalling their schooldays, and have pulled out short passages from each. I’ll work through them chronologically, although there isn’t time to give a complete history of the school.
The first individual is George Scarr Watson, who was at Bootham between 1853 and 1858. I’ve put up a photograph of the back of the school from 1863 to give you an idea of what it might have looked like around the time that he was there. The school was originally started in 1823 in premises in Lawrence Street. For the first six years it was run by William Simpson, and then in 1829 the school was brought under the care of the Yorkshire Quarterly Meeting of the Society of Friends. At that point it was known officially as the Yorkshire Quarterly Meeting Boys School, and more generally as York Friends Boys School. In 1846 the school moved to Bootham, after the purchase of 51 Bootham, then known as No 20 Bootham, from Sir John Johnstone for £4,500. The decision to move had been made because of concerns over ill-health at the Lawrence Street site, and the Foss Islands area was not seen as particularly healthy. The photograph gives an idea of what the grounds at the back of the Bootham site looked like before the fire in 1899, which destroyed much of what you can see in the photograph.
Happy New Year!
Even though it is now 2015, I’m continuing the series of 1914 Register posts. Many thanks to Claire, one of the volunteers, for researching the post.
Joseph Mennell (1815-1863; at school at Lawrence Street prior to 1829)
At school was known as Wm. Simpson’s (the Head Master’s) lieutenant, and used to fetch and load the former’s gun for him when he shot rats in the moat ditch on the opposite side of the Foss Islands Road from the schoolroom window during lessons.
Joshua O’Brien (1858-1931; Bootham 1871-73)
Apprenticed at Manufacturing Stationery business with Marcus Ward & Co, Belfast. Landed in Sydney, N.S.W., 1887: Brisbane, Queensland 1888. Established paper bag manufactory in 1891, which now (1913) is the only power paper bag factory in the State of Queensland. One of the first in the State to experiment in the use of hydrocyanic acid gas for the destruction of scale insects on fruit trees, and also to experiment in use of cotton netting for the protection of growing fruits from the Queensland fruit fly: both methods being successfully employed in the State.
Gilbert Porteous (1894-1917; Bootham 1908-11)
At time of the General Election on 1910 was a member of No. 5 Bedroom. Being interested in the results of polls in his native city, on the night that result was being announced, he, along with several others, kept awake, and when a boy came along Bootham selling the midnight edition of the evening paper, he threw a penny on the road, and letting down a string pulled up the paper. Hardly had they digested the results when they were deprived of their booty by an unexpected visitor.
Thomas Binns Robson (1843-1925; Bootham 1856-60)
“Fielden Thorp”, he says “was constantly remarking on the awkward way I walked, and my answer always was “Why don’t you drill us?” So one day he put me through my facings which, of course, created a crowd of spectators, and he made them all fall into line and we had a drilling lesson, which was followed by others under the same tuition, and later a military drill instructor was obtained who, I am afraid, did not strengthen our Quaker peace principles. In number 2 we had a store of sticks up the chimney, which we had broadsword exercises when we ought to have been in bed”. Hobbies – After 4 or 5 years of failure, 3 years ago, succeeded in introducing the Fig Wasp (Blastophaga Grossorum), which breeds only in the male or Capri-fig and carries the pollen into the female or Edible figs, in its search for the dormant female flower in the ovaries of which it lays its eggs, which only occur in the male fig. He says “It is the only case I know of where a flower is fertilised through an insect making a mistake. The common sorts of figs grown for eating do not need fertilising, though improved by it, but the Smyrna drying and other figs of that class drop all their fruit when half grown, unless fertilised, and it is the drying fig that I am going for now.”
This post continues from earlier posts with extracts from the 1914 edition of the Bootham School Register. Thanks to Claire, one of the volunteers, for researching the post.
Arthur Frederic Gravely (B. 1869-70)
Played in the annual cricket match with Schoolroom against the Seniors when, with I.H. Wallis as captain, they beat the Seniors in one innings: Remembers Septimus Marten’s great throw from the far side of the then adjoining field over the row of trees dividing that from the cricket field, the ball falling within a yard of the wicket: Postcards came into use whilst at Bootham, and he wrote and posted one the first day of issue to his sister at the Mount. Has a vivid recollection of J. Edmund Clark, then a teacher, learning to ride an early bicycle (“Boneshaker”) on the playground: also of a most enjoyable school excursion to Goathland, where he climbed a fir tree and brought down a nest of young squirrels for inspection, and afterwards with his clothes on slipped on a stone, and, to quote the words of an old song, “He caught a fine duck in the river”. Once when troubled with boils he went to Fielden Thorp, who welcomed him with the following “Come hither, come hither, my little boy, and do not tremble so, for I can prick the biggest boil that you ever did yet grow”.
Joseph Foster Lloyd (Lawrence St. 1844-45 and B.1846-49)
Became a Coal and Iron Merchant until his health broke down: Of rather retiring character, and as an invalid for some years before his death: At school he was a daring boy – watching a water rat in Langwith Long Lane, was greeted by John Ford with a “At him, Joe,” and without a moment’s hesitation he plunged into the ditch after the rat.
Herbert Thomas Malcolmson (1897-1900)
At Bootham under John F. Fryer and Arthur Rowntree he remembers the “fire”, when he lost quite a number of Natural History specimens – in fact, some of his skulls were in the pot left boiling, and which is thought caused the fire, although he was not in charge.
George Mennell (Lawrence St. prior to 1829)
Arranged in conjunction with Henry Binns and John Bright to run away from school to America. H.B was caught on leaving the school premises and obliged to reveal the plan. JB., who had started second, pursued and caught on Tadcaster Road. G.M reached Leeds on foot, and was there found waiting for the others at the inn whence the coach to Liverpool was to start.
This post continues from Part 4, and is part of a series for Explore Your Archives week.
Oliver Bernard Ellis left Bootham in 1916. The bene decessit in the magazine (a paragraph about each leaver) reads:
“O. B. Ellis excelled in all forms of athletics. He was a brilliant and daring gymnast, weathering all hurts. He was an able goal-keeper, where he obtained his 1st Masters’ colours, and, later, played at outside right. At cricket he obtained his 1st eleven colours. Last year he obtained the Silver Medal of the Life-Saving Society and served on the Athletics and Football Committees. Last year he tied for the Senior Athletics Cup, and helped to command the Fire Brigade. He was a wonderful practical photographer, and was very patient over his ornithological excursions with the camera. He was a curator of ornithology and the N.H. rooms, and two years ago obtained the Old Scholars’ Prize. He leaves from the Upper Senior, and was reeve [prefect].”
Oliver joined the Royal Naval Air Service in July 1916, and by March 1917 he was in Dunkirk. Some of his letters home were published in ‘Bootham’ magazine, here are some extracts:
April 21st 1917: “The F.A.U. dentist who I went to the other day said, ‘Let me see, you’re the man who tried to whitewash the roof of some railway buildings in York, aren’t you?’ He was an Australian, but his assistant was a man I was at school with at Sidcot!”
April 24th 1917: “I saw a little owl tonight, and heard lots of patridges calling. It was simply a ripping evening, and I almost expected to see an old curlew flying over.”
May 3rd 1917: “somehow the quiet freshness of Warwickshire seems far more fascinating than ever it did before, and the thought of perfectly white flannels and a perfectly flat cricket ground seem to be things only to be found in heaven. I think I’m going to live in white flannels when I get home. Does anyone play tennis this year?…The chances are one in a hundred in our favour, and there we must leave it, having reduced it to that, and thank God that I’ve got the safest job in this war. Don’t worry about me, I’m having the time of my life and am enjoying myself hugely, and the war can’t last for ever.”
On May 20th 1917 he was reported missing. Then the news came that his plane had been shot down on May 19th, and he had been killed.
Here is his entry on the Commonwealth War Graves Commission website.
After his death, his parents presented the school with the Oliver Ellis medal for athletics, in memory of their son.
Note: I hope that this week has helped to show how stories can be pieced together in an archive. There is still scope for far more research on this story, and many others in the archive.
There is an enormous range of archives nationally, with diverse collections, and they contribute in all sorts of ways, including education, business, identity and democracy. I hope that you will be encouraged to explore your archive.
Some of the items that I used to piece together the story
