Roll of Honour – Summer 1916

MORRISON. – Colonel Colquhoun Grant Morrison, Q.M.G., husband of Vera (Sawyer).
BUCHAM BROWN. – Barry Bucham Brown, brother of Marjorie Bucham Brown, went down in the “Indefatigable.”
ALDER. – Kenneth Alder (School House boot boy) went down in the “Indefatigable.”
PHILLIMORE. – Second-Lieutenant Matthew Arden Phillimore, 11th Battalion Essex Regiment, attached 251st Tunnelling Company Royal Engineers, killed June 25th.
HOLMES. – Donald Holmes, brother of Dorothea Holmes.
BURNETT. – Lieutenant J. D. N. Burnett, 3rd (attached 6th) Queen’s Regiment (Royal West Surrey), only brother of Molly and Dorothy E. Burnett.
RALPH. – Bertram Ralph went down in the “Goliath.” Jack Gray – Ralph, Second-Lieutenant, 7th Battalion London Regiment; killed in action 19th June in France. These are both brothers of Miss Ralph.
CHAMBERS. – Second-Lieutenant Edward Chambers Elliot, brother of Auriol and Gwenda Chambers.
COOMBS. – Henry Whitaker Coombs, Northumberland Fusiliers, brother of Miss Coombs July 2nd; in France.
THICKNESSE. – Lieutenant-Colonel J. A., Somerset L.I, brother of Miss Thicknesse.
TREGELLES. – Captain Geoffrey P. Tregelles, 8th Devon Regiment, brother of Olga Tregelles.
HINKLEY. – Second-Lieutenant Siegfried Hinkley, 6th Buffs, brother of Veronica Hinklev.

Address Given on Empire Day – Summer 1916

Let me remind you first why this day, May 24th, was chosen for the Festival of the Empire. It was Queen Victoria’s birthday, and when she died it was chosen that she might be commemorated always with the Empire which grew to such greatness in her long and wonderful reign. The Colonies had long kept it with enthusiasm as Victoria Day; slowly we have risen to the appeal to join them in making it a yearly Commemoration of the Empire. This year, 1916, for the first time, even the Government is keeping it, and the flag is to fly on all Government buildings.
Salisbury has kept it several times, before the war broke out, but last year it was not kept, on account of the war. Why, then, keep it this year? Just because we have a clearer sense of the tremendous emergency, and we know we must rally every ounce of will and faith and hope to carry through what we have undertaken. Our great Poet of the Empire, Rudyard Kipling, sends us a message this morning.
“When Germany challenged us nearly two years ago to uphold with our lives the ideals by which we professed to live, we accepted the challenge, not out of madness, nor for glory or for gain, but to make good those professions. Since then the Allies and our Empire have fought that they may be free, and all earth may be free, from the intolerable domination of German ideals.
“We did not foresee the size of the task when it opened. We do not flinch from it now the long months have Schooled us to full knowledge, and have tempered us nationally and individually to meet it. The nations within the Empire have created, maintained, and reinforced from their best the great armies they devote without question to this issue. They have emerged, one by one, as Powers clothed with power through discipline and sacrifice, strong for good by their bitter knowledge of the evil they are meeting, and wise in the purchasable wisdom of actual achievement.
“Knowing as nations what it is we fight for, realising as men and women the resolve that has been added to us by what each has endured, we go forward now under the proud banner of our grief’s and losses to greater effort, greater endurance, and, if need be, heavier sacrifice, equal sponsors for the deliverance of mankind.”
There it is. The whole British Empire knows to-day that it is in for a struggle of life or death; that we must stand shoulder to shoulder, all the world round-our men in the front line, we women and girls supporting them by every means at any cost.
And our rallying flag is The Flag that is flying all round the world to-day: the Flag that
“Has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze”
The flag of LIBERTY – shown BY the blue of the sea and the air, the freest things we know: and the flag of LAW – the law of self-restraint for the sake of the liberty of others: for the red and white Crosses lie over the blue.
It is so delightful that our School motto means just those two things’ for which our Empire stands – “Franc,” that is free, “Leal”, that is Loyal, law-abiding.
How glad we feel when we see our flag flying to-day, that it does not display an Eagle, Mighty and relentless, keen and terrible. a bird of prey!
And how inexpressibly sad it would be to have a motto like that of the poor misguided men who have caused such bloodshed in Ireland! “Sinn Fein” – “ourselves alone,” what a hopeless and ill-omened war-cry!
But our Flag displays the Cross, and the Cross is “I” crossed out, myself ignored. It is life poured out, first by the Great Captain of our Salvation, then by all who have followed in His train – St. George of England, St. Andrew, St. Patrick, St. David, and all the noble host of heroes and heroines who have given their lives, down to those whom we ourselves have known and loved.
This is what our Empire has to stand for as a province in the Kingdom of Christ – sacrifice for the cause of brotherhood and union. The arms of the crosses of our flag stretch to all points of the compass, and they all meet in one centre. Our Empire stands to bring “more life and fuller” for all peoples, and our flag is a perpetual reminder that that can only come through sacrifice.
In the stirring words at the end of a leading article in to-day’s Daily Telegraphy, “let us not forget that there come great crises in the lives of individuals and of States in which it is rood to be alive. The sacrifice may be heavy, but the privilege is greater still – the privilege of showing ourselves men, the sacred trust which is put into our hands of saving not only ourselves, but humanity at large. Empire Day is a time for high resolves, for unflinching courage, for obstinate endurance, for all those virtues which, giving us a foremost place in the records of civilisation, fortify our stability and safeguard our future.”
That, then, is the call of Empire Day. In the Market-place down below you will stannd with some 2000 other boys and girls – most of them so much poorer than you in the things that make life easy and jolly, and, as we say, “worth having” to you, and yet they too are giving for the great cause their fathers and brothers. Lots of them are saving their pennies by going without sweets, or giving up a visit to the Pictures, which is the gretest pleasure they have. There is no question of “classes” in this war
“Groom fights like noble, squire like knight,
As fearlessly and well,”
and we stand or fall together, we here at home, our men at the front, and our fellow Britons over seas too.
The flag we shall salute in the Market-place was sent to the children of Salisbury by the children of an Australian Salisbury, and a flag which Godolphin helped to send has been flying to-day at a school in New Zealand. We are one to-day in sacrifice under the flag of Liberty and Right; and as we salute it let us renew our vows to be worthy of it – remembering those other great words of Kipling:
“No easy hopes or lies
Shall bring us to our goal,
But iron sacrifice
Of body, will, and soul,
There is but one task for all,
For each one life to give.
Who stands if Freedom fall?
Who dies if England live?”

Mr. Stephen Graham – Summer 1916

On Ascension Eve we had the very great privilege of a visit from Mr. Stephen Graham. His lecture set the seal on the very real affection that some of us have been growing for the Russian people since we began to know something about them. Mr. Graham has got ‘nearer to the heart of Russia, and especially of the Russian peasant, than perhaps any other Englishman. Upon him, therefore, is laid the mission of explaining the two peoples to one another. So far we have known little of each other, and that chiefly through German spectacles. We are very different, and yet each of us needs just what the other can give.

Mr. Graham calls Russia the Church of the World. Certainly lie made us feel that we must go to her to learn to worship more un-selfishly, and to have more charity, humility and patience. We hope Mr. Graham was able to understand from our farewell to him what a great thing he did for us.


Kossovo Day – Summer 1916

On Wednesday, June 28th, we kept Kossovo Day. At prayers in the morning Miss Douglas read a short account of that great battle, fought in 1389, when, after the most heroic resistance. Tzar Lazar and the Serbian Chivalry went down before the Turks, and the long night of Mohammedan oppression set in. Then we sang “‘Through the night of doubt and sorrow,” and Miss Douglas read the proper Kossovo Day prayers.
In the evening we met again to sing the Serbian Anthem and to think of those brothers of ours whom we never had in our sphere of care before. For the time being they have no Fatherland; Serbia has been blotted from the map by a disaster worse than that of Kossovo.
We were greatly helped in our new sympathy with them by the reading of some passages from the writing of Father Nicholai Velimirovic, the learned Serbian priest now in England.


Miss Steer has not mentioned that she gave us a most interesting lecture on Kossovo Day, the fruits of her much reading and thought about Serbia: and I am sure we shall not easily forget the masterIy sketch of the history of that little nation, nor the stirring description of their keeping of Kossovo Day, nor the beautiful words with which her lecture ended. All thanks are due to her from all of us who heard the lecture.


H.M.S. Alcantara and a German Cruiser – Summer 1916


The following article, by on Old Boy of the Malvern Link School is reprinted from their magazine by permission of Mr. Douglas:

The first warning we had that there was possibility of coming across the Germans was given to us at Divisions, on Sunday, February 27th. Our Captain, Captain Wardle, R.N., told us that he had received information from his superiors that the Germans had decided to “strafe” the 10th C.S. by a submarine attack, and urged us to keep an extra sharp look out. He also mentioned that it was reported that a German cruiser was out, and was going to attempt to break through the patrol. On Monday afternoon we had news that we were to return to Liverpool on the following day, and great was the rejoicing. Little did we think of the way we were going to return. At, on Tuesday, the above order was countermanded, and we were ordered to remain on patrol, as it was expected that a German cruiser was to attempt to break through our patrol.
At, we received a signal from H.M.S Andes, telling us that she had sighted a suspicious ship, and would we, as a senior ship of patrol, come and investigate. Battle stations was “piped”, and we increased to full speed, and steamed to the position given by the Andes. To our great disappointment there was only a large Norwegian ship in sight when we arrived at the position. She was about 8000 tons, and appeared to be heavily laden with cargo, as she was deep in the water aft. She was flying the Norwegian flag, and had that country’s flag painted on her sides. She appeared to have a high foc’sle, and was fitted wireless.
The captain immediately made the sign M.N., “Stop instantly”, to which she replied, “I am stopping.” We then asked her port of departure, and where she was bound. As her answers were quite satisfactory, the Captain asked the Andes, which was about three miles away, whether the enemy was still in sight, and upon receiving the answer that the cargo boat was the suspicious ship, he decided that it was a false alarm, and ordered the Andes to proceed, and investigate smoke on our starboard quarter.
Captain Wardle ordered “the secure” to be sounded, and proceeded to man the boarding boat in the usual manner.
Everyone had left their stations, except the guns’ crews, the boarding boat was just being swung clear of the ship, when suddenly, without any warning whatever, the Norwegian ship’s ensign falls into the sea and the sides of her foc’sle break away, and there in the place of a harmless cargo boat was a German cruiser ready for battle.
Simultaneously with the dipping of the Norwegian flag, the German ensign ran up to her mainmast head, and she gave us her broadside.
For a moment, but only for a moment, everyone was utterly surprised, but very soon our gunners and our guns gave good account of themselves.
It is difficult to imagine anything more like hell than that torrential fire. The action was fought at about 700 yards with guns whose range was about ten miles. There was no cover whatever on the Alcantara, and it was amazing that anyone lived at all.
The first shot was fired about 10.20. At 10.30 the German ship was belching, forth smoke, and was well ablaze fore and aft, but alas, the poor old Alcantara was in her death throes. She is, or rather was, a big R.M.S.P. liner of 16,000 tons, very high out of the water, and a perfect target, built to carry passengers in luxury to South America, not to face the sting of German guns. At 10.25 the Alcantara received a torpedo for’ard, but at the time it was hardly noticed. At 10.35 she received her death blow. She was struck by another torpedo right amidships and quivered like a dying thing. It was impossible to avoid the torpedoes, as within one minute of the action our steering gear and all telephone communication with the engine room was put out of order. It was now quite evident that, she was going to sink, and to sink fast, so we were ordered to the boats.
The German ship was now in a terrible condition, flames bursting out from all sides, and we saw her crew take to the boats at about 10.40. This was due to the fact that our second shell entirely demolished the German’s bridge, presumably destroying their Captain.
At 10.45 we were ordered to abandon ship, and about 10.55 the poor old girl turned over, and with the same grace as she used to plough through heavy seas, slowly disappeared beneath the water. Such was the end of a fine ship, a ship which had done her duty right nobly, and which met with an end as great and glorious as that of any in the annals of the British Navy.
May I now be allowed to continue this narrative from a personal point of view.
At 9.15 on the eventful morning the Chief Wireless Operator came to my cabin and told me that we were remaining on patrol, and would probably strike an enemy ship. I would not believe him at first, but at 9.30 went on deck to see if it was true that we were not to return to Liverpool that afternoon. When I arrived on the bridge, however, the Yeoman told me that “General Quarters” was just about to be sounded, and that I had better go down and get my life-belt and a Duffield coat. Just as I got to my cabin door, the alarm bell sounded, and I returned at once to the bridge with the life-belt and coat. I went to my station, which was by the port searchlight, and had orders from the Captain to keep a special look out for submarines.

We soon came in sight of the Andes, and also of the enemy. At the time we could not imagine what all the fuss was about, as there appeared to be only a large Norwegian cargo vessel, but we were soon to be disillusioned.
When the Captain was satisfied that ever thing was O.K., and “the secure” had been sounded, I remained on the bridge to watch the boarding operations. Immediately the enemy saw that we intended to board them, she opened fire, and then commenced the most appalling 20 minutes I have ever spent. At first I stood and calmly regarded the enemy pumping shrapnel, &c., into us with all her might, and I fear I cursed them with the deepest curse I could lay my tongue to. I cannot imagine how I failed to be hit, for I was in a most exposed position. The first shell cleared all the flags and halyards above my head; the bridge being the most important part of the ship to destroy. I suddenly realised that I was quite alone, as the remaining hands on the bridge were seeking shelter under the lee of the chart house, and you may be sure it was not very long before I joined them.

It is impossible to speak too highly of the Yeoman, who was as calm as ever, and with his cheerful countenance and cheering voice bucked everyone up, although each knew that he might he the next to be literally smashed into eternity.
Personally, and I speak with absolute truth, I do not remember feeling the least frightened. I was busy trying to reassure the messengers, boys of 14 to 18, who at first were very frightened; but who, when they were given messages to take from the Captain to the after part of the ship, carried out their duties in an amazing manner. It is impossible in this account to go into individual cases of bravery, which are too numerous to recount, but I think if anyone deserved praise it was the boys for the bravery shown in their very dangerous errands.
It was not long before I realised that we were in a pretty bad plight, as the ship was listing in an alarming manner to port, and I was not in the least surprised when we were ordered to abandon ship. I went at once to in boat station, which was amidships on the port side, the side which was exposed to the enemy, and to which the ship was listing. When I arrived there, I found that my boat, with others, was splintered to matchwood, and so at once repaired to the corresponding boat on the starboard side. On the way to my new boat I passed one of the quartermasters, who was vainly trying to get over the side, but who was unable to do so owing to his extreme “tubbiness.” I gave him a hand, and literally rolled him over the side; whether he rolled into the water or into a boat I know not, but he was rescued. I then made tracks aft to try and get into No. 3 starboard, which was right amid ships; I was just going to get over the side when I suppose some water-tight doors must have given way below the water line, for the ship gave a sudden lurch to port, and threw me on the deck. I was now in a pretty precarious position, for the ship was rapidly turning over, and I was lying on a slippery deck, which was at an angle of 75 degrees, some 10 or 12 feet from the side of the ship, and resting against the wall of the Social Hall. I had somehow or other to get to the side of the ship, and I had to do it pretty quickly. It seemed an absolute impossibility; it was like trying to walk up the side of a house. In vain I tried to clamber upon my hands and knees, till in sheer desperation I tried to dig me fingers into the deck. It was all of no avail, and I knew that humanly speaking it was quite in vain for me to try and get off the ship. I gave up all hope, for I had time after time, with all the effort I could muster, madly fought to get to the side, but it was hopeless, and in my despair I uttered a cry from the depth of my heart, “O my God, save me!” Immediately a rope which was made fast to a stanchion, which was coiled up on deck, uncoiled itself and ran straight into my hands. Some people may say it was luck, some may say it was only natural that the ship being at such an angle should dislodge the rope: but to me it was a direct answer to my prayer. With the aid of the rope I was able to gain the side: having done this, I grasped a man rope and quickly let myself hand over hand down the ship’s side, not knowing whether there was a boat or not beneath. After what seemed an age I found myself in one of the steel cutters, which was just about to shove off. All around was chaos – boats turned upside down, men struggling in the water to try to gain a few boats which were afloat; others swimming to get clear of the ship, and alas! others being drawn in by the propellers and cut to pieces. It was a terrible sight; the ship almost upside down, the mass of wreckage and humanity, and the cries of despair from the drowning, all mingled in what seemed a terrible nightmare.

The Literary Club – Summer 1916

This Club has been started for all Fifth Forms and Upper Fourth. It meets about twice a term and reads productions of members sent in under a nom de plume. One of the Mistresses acts as critic, and the members choose what productions are worthy of being preserved in the Club Book. The subjects (usually four in number) suggested for writing are proposed and chosen by vote at the previous meeting. Below are given two which had “Wind” for the subject, and one which took “Brown Paper.” Others are only withheld for want of space.

The wind goes a whistling in the trees
And bangs the cottage door,
Then whirling go the Ash’s keys
While apples fall on the grassy floor.

Away go the leaves for a joyful dance
In dresses of red and gold,
The acorns struggle and long for a chance,
And the old oak shudders with cold.

Oh, merry, merry is the lay
That Autumn’s wind doth sing,
Old Neptune echoes from the bay,
And all proclaim wild Autumn king.


Long, long ago there lived in the land under the sea a very old King, who had an only son. The dearest wish of the old King’s’ heart was that this son should marry and continue the line of sea rulers, but although the Prince had been given every opportunity of seeing the most beautiful princesses of the surrounding kingdoms, he could not decide to ask one of them for her hand. At last the old King called his son to him and asked the reason for this.
The Prince replied: “Father, the princesses I have met during my life here are all so quiet and staid. They have spent their lives in Courts where they are guarded and waited on at every turn, and the result of such an upbringing; is not pleasing, to me at least. No (and here he stopped in his walk to pluck an anemone), I can never marry a princess who is not really free.”
Now this speech troubled the King so much that he lay awake for nights thinking out a means of finding a really free princess, and at last he decided what to do.
“I will go forth on a quest,” he said. “What matter that it will be my last quest, when the future of my son and of my kingdom is at stake.”
So after due preparations he set out. After travelling for many days he came to a land where all is white, white snow; and blue, blue ice; and there he sought out the King and begged him that he might be allowed to see his daughter, if he had one. The King was very stern looking and sat on a great ice throne, in a glistening, dazzling ice hall, and his hair was snow and icicles. But he listened kindly to the prayer of the Sea King, and sent for his daughter.
When she appeared the ice hall was filled with roaring and moaning and chill, and as soon as the questing King could look about him he saw that she stood before him. Very tall, very white, with wild hair, and with icicles all over her sweeping, swathing robes, she stood by her father, and when she spoke her voice was like the biggest breakers on the boundary of the Sea King’s land. “Would that my son were here,” ha said, “for he surely would love this beautiful maid.”
At the, invitation of the lce King he stayed in his Palace while the Prince was sent for, and while there he found that the Princess was often tender, but oftener wild – wild, and that her name was “The North Wind.” And when the Prince arrived he said: “No, she is bound by her wildness; she is not really free.”
So the old Sea King journeyed far away again, with his son, until they came to a land that was all gold, and warmth, and softness.
There, as before, they stayed at the ruler’s castle, and this time the castle was all sunshine and the King was young and as strong as ten other men. His daughter was more beautiful than any the Prince had ever seen, and when she was approaching there was a sound of murmuring and whispering, and ascent of sweetness. She was all golden, and her dress was mist, and her voice was like the tiniest waves on the Sea King’s shores. But the Prince said: “No, she is bound by the softness of this land. Oh, South Wind, you are not really free.”
So once again the two set out, and travelled for many days until they came to a land where everything was brisk, and clear, and sharp. The outlines of the bleak hills were painfully distinct, and the very grass stood up sharply, and the raindrops were pointed instead of round.
In this land the ruler’s daughter was like her surroundings in her sharpness. Her hair and dress were burnished with the rising sun, but her features were clear and cold, her voice was piercing, and her grasp treacherous. “No, O East Wind,” said the Prince, “you are bound by your sharpness; you are not really free.”
Then weary with journeying the old King and his son came at last back to their own domain, the sea, but there, as they were about to sink below the surface into their own Palace, the waves began to ripple excitedly, and the setting sun came down a long golden pathway across the water to see what was happening and from the shining and the rippling came a fourth Princess. Her dress was a swirling cloud round her, and where it touched the sea it glowed with all the colours of the, sunset, which blended and faded until they melted into pearly grey round her face, making the one star on her forehead shine all the more brightly by contrast.
And her voice (like the waves when they are very happy) said: “O Prince, I am not wild like my sister the North Wind, I am not soft like my Sister the South Wind, I am not sharp like my sister the East Wind”; and the Prince, who could contain himself no longer, broke in: “In all my pilgrimage I have found none whom I love like you. We two will henceforth rule the kingdom of the sea together – strong but gentle, firm but tender; you, O West Wind, are really free.”



Here it is! Come by Special Book Messenger. Written on one of Mrs. Foolscap’s best sheets, by Onoto fountain pen. Rather short! But that’s beside the point. It is concerning Paper County I see.
In Paper County, Book land, Mrs. Brown has been having rather a bad time lately. Mrs. Tissue, who prides herself on French descent, has been making fun of the Brown house. Of course, we know that it is not beautiful, but she does more really hard work than anyone. If only she would not stick her walls and roof together with those red-lettered labels. Her house is the best-made paper house in the county, yet there she goes and sticks “Fragile,” “Flowers with Care,” “This side Up,” and like inscriptions, on the outside. No wonder Mrs. Tissue finds it an eyesore. She lives in the daintiest house. White paper walls and inside pink, green, pale blue, and as many other colours as you like to think of on the floors and ceilings.
Just near Christmas Mrs. Brown had a great deal to do. In fact, she was hardly ever out of her storeroom. She had no time to look after her brown cabbages in the garden, and their size made Mrs. Tissue think it the last straw, so she invited the Misses Stamps, the Misses paper Clips, and the Masters Pen to a ball in her house, and then, escorted by all especially elegant mauve pen, she led them to Mrs. Brown’s house, and they all stood and laughed at it.
That night there was a storm of ink, indiarubbers and pen-nibs. Mrs. Tissue’s fair house collapsed at once, but the brown paper resisted the weight of indiarubbers and pen-nibs, though it did get rather black; and the Misses Clips and Masters Pen were glad to take shelter in the brown house. Thence the next morning they went to the site of Tissue house, and with great difficulty pulled the Misses Stamps from the collapsed paper walls and helped the black transparent Mrs. Tissue to the brown house. There amidst Mrs. Brown’s best brown paper sheets she was nursed back to solidness, and when well bought up most of the paper from the storeroom and built her house of it in exact imitation of Mrs. Brown’s, except that she left out the “Glass with care” part.


Benedicamus Domino – Summer 1916

All beneath a shining sky
Yellow fields are harvested:
Deep in grass the apples lie,
Sunshine sweetened, cool and red.
For the Father of the Poor
Sets His watch with flaming sword
High shove the threshing floor
Thanks be unto Thee, O LORD.

In the twilight meadows now
Trail the white September mists;
Damsons, heavy on the bough,
Gleam like shadowed amethysts.
Fiercely sweet are days like these,
Wrapt in peace and yellow suns.
While across the narrow seas
Sounds the drumming of the guns.

These are things that have not been
In our long prosperity
Beauty passionately seen
When it stands in jeopardy;
Vivid love that grips the breath,
Tears that break for very pride.
Life through violence and death-
LORD, for these be glorified.

For the proudly guarded lips,
Streets where men nor strive nor cry;
For the armies and the ships,
Youth and laughing chivalry;
For the things that shall be won
Clean and splendid from the flame
For the brave new life begun-
Blessed be Thy holy Name.

We have sinned the sins of peace;
Called to serve, we have not served;
Such a war for righteousness
We desired not nor deserved.
We are glad for this,- that life
Caught us like a hurricane,
Slashed the walls with quivering knife,
Tore a space for sight again.

They shall see that shall be born
That remote resplendent thing,
Of the which, for spent and torn,
All the world is travailing
Lift your hearts above the years,
Thank our LORD not once nor twice
For the horror and the tears,
Bitterness and sacrifice.

September, 1916.


Games – Summer 1916

SPRING TERM – LACROSSE – The House Tournament resulted in a draw. Nelson and Fawcett both scored 21 goals, which was considerably higher than any other House. They share the Cup.

February 12th – St. Margaret’s beat New Forest by 5 goals to 4.
Nelson beat School House by 10 goals to 1.
February 19th – St. Margaret’s beat Sarum by 3 goals to 1.
Nelson and Fawcett drew 4 goals all.
February 22nd – Nelson and Fawcett drew 1 goal all.
March 14th – Fawcett beat Nelson by 4 goals to 3.
All three matches were very even, and both teams deserved to win.
March 17th – Fawcett beat St. Margaret’s by 6 goals to nil.

May 27th – Nelson beat School by 26 runs.
New Forest beat Sarum by 32 runs.
Fawcett beat St. Margaret’s by 51 runs,
June 10th – St. Margaret’s beat New Forest by 81 runs.
School beat Fawcett by 2 wickets and 32 runs.
Nelson beat Sarum by 117 runs.


LAWN TENNIS – The results of the Lawn Tennis will be in the Autumn


Expeditions on Thursdays – Summer 1916

Miss Douglas made a delightful scheme for the Summer Term, by which the girls might get more time “for doing and seeing things out of doors.” She arranged that Thursday afternoons, after 4 p.m., should be available for this purpose; the girls preparing from 2-4 p.m., and giving only half-an-hour to music, and having no preparation or music lessons after 4 p.m.

Field Club Expeditions took place on May 11th and 18th. Homington Down, Britford, Alderbury, Watery Harnham, Clarendon Woods, Old Sarum, Laverstock Down, and the Clump were visited by groups of girls.
Form Expeditions were made on June 25th to Clarendon Woods by Upper and Lower VI; to Bemerton by Matric, and Special VI; to the Downs by Upper V; to Romsey Abbey by Extra V; to Broken Bridges by Special VA. and Special VB; to Britford by Lower VB and IV; to Downton Moot by Lower IV; to Old Sarum by, III; to Laverstock Down by II, and Clarendon by I.
On June 29th the “Gardeners” had tea at Oakhurst, and afterwards visited gardens in the Close, by the kind permission of the Bishop, Archdeacon Carpenter, and Miss Hussey. On the same day Sarum House held its sports, and Lower IV. visited Old Sarum.
During the Spring and Summer Terms Lower IV. have been attending lessons on the History of Salisbury and the neighbourhood, given by Mr. Stevens, at the Museum. He very kindly went with them to Downton Moot and Old Sarum, explaining everything to them on the spot.

Garden Club – Summer 1916


First Price
S. Yorke P. Clarke H. Elworthy
J. Carey J. Hinxman H. Toms
C. Harrison

Second Price
D. Hinixman K. Newson A. Armitage
M. Holmes P. Du Buisson N. Preece
M. Sim B. Medlicott

Third Price
J. Chapman M. Stevens-Guille M. Ainslie
N. Randall I. Usher

Miss Douglas gave the prizes in the gardens on Wednesday, May 17th.
The following Poems won prizes in a competition for the best poem on Gardens.


In the sunny summer-time when all around is gay,
And skies are blue, and trees are green, and little elfins play
Why then –
My little garden is full of all delight,
From early misty morning
To still and starry night.

The roses in my garden are red and white and pink,
And the dew-drops on their petals ask the bees to come and drink.
Oh then –
My little garden is a sight for tired eyes,
Full of lilies and carnations,
And of gaudy butterflies.

But it’s different in winter when all the flowers have gone.
And the roses have departed, and the soil looks cold and lone,
Even then –
I know in one corner of the bed
I shall find a modest violet
With its dainty purple head.

My flowers have a language, only not like yours and mine,
It’s like the rain in summer, it’s so small and light and fine,
But then –
Only few can hear it, and I am one of those,
And I won’t tell a creature
What my flowers to me disclose.

My garden’s a like kingdom of which I am the King,
And sometimes if I’m careful I can hear the fairies sing.
And then –
Why, I’m as happy as happy as call be,
And I wish that all small children
Could be a king like me.

SUN-WORSHIPPER (Ursula Armitage).


The snow lay thick o’er all the land,
The flowers slept beneath the ground;
Majestic way the scene and grand,
So silent everything around.

Soon came the warm spring sun again,
And melted all the snow away;
Then forth there peeped in hedge and lane
The tiny leaf-buds of the May.

The fairies took a snowflake white,
And made of it a tiny bell
Which softly rang both day and night,
That Spring was coming soon to tell.

So when I see the snowdrops sweet
Peep from beneath their soft brown bed,
I know they are come forth to meet
The springtime. and that winter’s fled.

HIBISCUS (Sheila Dimsey.)