A Vicars story
By the Reverend John Stanley Sharples.

I applied for Goldings in the first place because it had some attraction as a life-work, and I did not regard school chaplaincy and deputy-head as a stopgap towards a parish. The governing Body of the Homes had encouraged both Nora and myself to think of a school for ourselves after an initial period at Goldings, and it was on this understanding we went, just before the Easter of 1941. This move, necessitated, for the first time in my life the moval of a home and furniture. I went at an initial salary of 250 pounds per annum, roughly equal to my remuneration at Dorking, which was 230 plus Whitsun offering, and about 30 pounds more than I received from St. Peter's. But in addition to my salary, for the first time, was also a rather lovely house, of which more anon.

It seems that once my London period was over, I was searching for beautiful surroundings; for Dorking was and is one of the most picturesque and culturally forward towns in the south of England. And now Goldings had a paradisal setting. It was a large brick mansion, Elizabethan in style covering I should say around four acres, set in a larger estate of some hundred acres, which were used for a park originally, and now with the school for playing fields. We had eleven full sized soccer pitches, a magnificent green for cricket (which, with the large power mower I spent many hot summer days-off, cutting, perched on the tractor-part seat) and a large swimming pool. Around this large estate there were wooded sections providing an avenue of peace and quiet for any who, like the Revd. Fred Macdonald, liked to use it for daily walks with dog and pipe. The two hundred to three hundred boys from 14-19 years, who were always in residence rarely used these outer perimeters of the estate which in most cases were 'out of bounds' to them. In front of the main hall of the building was a magnificent flowered terrace, carefully tended by Evelyn, Mr. Macdonald's wife; the terrace was expanded across the front of the general office where I did most of my work, and the Macdonald's suite of rooms. The interior of the school was suitably furnished to the style of the building's parquet floors and large balustrades and gave a very lordly appearance. The rest of the school buildings, dormitories, dining rooms, etc were clean but Spartan, and very suitably adapted to the roughness of well-disciplined but boisterous teenage boys. At the end of the admin building on the Hertford side (Hertford town was about two miles away) was the chapel, ringed with a wood of trees, a splendid brick building, seating the entire school, lofty, with a good organ, and lovely modern chancel, and vestries. Of this more anon. On the other side of the buildings, toward Waterford village, was the sick bay, a nice small hospital of our own with two nurses, and also an avenue of cottages in which some of the staff lived with their families. This beautiful Elizabethan building and its estate was conveniently situated near the old town of Hertford, but yet secluded enough to be an entity of its own.

Officially the post of chaplain to the school was one of general spiritual care for the young men or boys; but the new post of Deputy-head or Governor had a specific reason. Mr. Macdonald, essentially a man of peace, had experienced difficulty in preventing the Executive Officer, Mr. Edwin Patch, from usurping authority and he told me he wanted a go-between, someone who would absorb some of the authority of the Governor himself. Specifically for this purpose I was assigned the position of looking after the discipline of the school; not executing punishment, but deciding it. Mr. Patch had been inclined to exceed his authority in this field, and the Governor was apparently afraid of the Government, who supervised the discipline recorded in books, coming down on him for brutality. I was on excellent terms with Patch, and admired him, as indeed he was admired by the boys themselves and only on one occasion, when the governor was on holiday, had to speak to him about rough handling of a boy. Patch had been regimental sergeant major to the Queen's and was a strict though admirably fair, disciplinarian and whom I grew to admire the more I knew him. But I knew that Mr. Macdonald's fears were not unfounded; Patch could easily take a bit in his mouth and would land the school in trouble. My duties in this field worked out to assigning judgements on disciplinary measures recommended by the Executive Officer, which did not ensure my popularity; nor did it involve me in too much odium with the boys, particularly when I combined with it the reading of soccer results over Saturday supper, from the main English League clubs. I had regular evening classes in the winter in English, and other confidential duties such as vetting the mail in from boys' parents and guardians. My day would begin around 7:00 when I said Grace at breakfast, and end after nine in the evening when I wandered around the dormitories; otherwise I was a very free agent, and the life was not arduous in any way. Monday was taken as a day off, and for the most part Nora and I would go to a cinema in Hertford in the afternoon, and take Joan with us (for she was growing now into quite a little lady). As it was known that I had a soccer background, I was asked to supervise some of the sports, and frequently I took the morning parade in place of Patch.

Our home, "Wych Elms" was situated about a quarter of a mile from the school building in a secluded part of the estate, with a large lawn between it and the school swimming pool, and encircled with trees. It was the ideal home for us, both in size and appearance, with modern conveniences such as the "Aga" cooker, and a small enclosed garden, a very lovely cottage indeed.

Nora had assigned to her a house boy for help in doing odd chores. This was a necessity for when a boy came to school it was usually six weeks before he could be placed in a trade, carpentry, printing, boot making, sheet-metal work, - and in this intervening period he had to make himself useful. Some of the boys we had in the home I still remember happily, Cecil Cox, a blond haired boy from the midlands, and very shy. But most of all, Terry Daniel, now married with four children (1965) and living in Australia. Terry surprised me some two years ago when in the midst of one of his rather lengthy letters, he said that it was I who had been the greatest influence on his life. This is probably a psychological illusion, as Terry was without parents and relatives, and we were the nearest to him in his formative years. At any rate, he has become a fine Christian man, and an unbelievable literary ability seeing that he could scarcely write his name when I new him; and also deep convictions about his role in the Anglican Church of Australia.

There were other house boys of course, some of them mischievous. On several occasions, Nora awakened me in the morning to find boys in pajamas helping themselves, and filling sacs in the school garden which was just behind the cottage; these fruits and other trove would be secreted (if they could get away with the swag) in various places in the school property, to be enjoyed after lights out. "Wych Elms" I believe was the nicest house we ever lived in, though its memories may be coloured by the happy thought of our still new furniture in small and well decorated rooms. From the point of view of exterior design, it was certainly a dream home.

I was beginning to pick up a little pace in my studies for a degree, but rather slowly. I did not aim to take the London Inter. Arts for two years, but worked at it steadily on days off and odd moments.

I was very fortunate in the men who trained me in my early years, but never more so than in the Head of the school at Goldings, Fred Macdonald and his wife Evelyn. They were cultured and charming people, Fred in particular, and he was the easiest man in the world to work with. He gave me full authority in the school under himself and indeed, as he seemed a little weary of the battle, after twenty years, he appeared rather anxious that I should assume virtual headship of the place. He was an intelligent man, of some poetic and literary abilities, a first-rate preacher to the boys (and indeed elsewhere), a man who, not surprisingly after a similar post in Rhodesia, knew how to handle the boys in such a way as to gain the maximum discipline with the maximum respect. He was rather wisely aloof in his attitude in the school, adopting, though not pretentiously, a 'godlike' position. One would see him strolling, mid-morning, around the estate alone, with his bull-terrier 'Bill', and his favourite pipe. He did, I am sure, use these daily peregrinations for purposes of meditation, as I am quite sure he was a man of deep piety and prayer, - the greatest of the three, I would say, clergymen who trained me in my early days. Certainly a kindlier man, and not so gruff as the bishop (Michael Furse) to whom I had to apply for license as chaplain. He staggered me as I entered his office by asking in a gruff manner, 'What time do you get up in the morning, my boy'? But his bark was worse than his bite; he was one of the finest, I believe, of Bishops on the Anglican Bench, and his question was meant to elicit an answer about my prayer habits only. Fred Macdonald would never have intruded like this however, even if he had been a bishop, on anyone's life, though he could be very annoyed on occasions. He later retired from the school when I left for Manchester, and Evelyn, I think, later paid me the compliment of saying that had I not left, he might have stayed on.

He always took part, either preaching or reading the service alternately, in chapel on Sunday morning, along with me, and his sermons were models of lucidity, artistry and, for the boys' sake, simplicity. Those Choral Mattins, with Mitchell at the fine organ in the loft at the rear, were times of great joy. Apart from my experience of hearing 500 men singing hymns at Pentonville Prison, the sound of 300 young men's voices, singing their favourite hymns each Sunday, was a new thrill to me; choir practice was held once a week; there was an early celebration each Sunday, and the staff were very faithful on the whole at these services. Nora attended Evensong, the very eve before Susan was born.

Another great friendship I made was with Jim Maslin, a man about ten years my senior, and who had been in the Homes all his life. He was the office manager, a man of great mental sharpness and shrewdness, quick witted, masterly in his technique with the boys, and to whom I owe a great debt in insights into my work in the school. Jim was a self-educated man, and had come by his knowledge the hard way.

In our own family life, Nora and I since the later days in Dorking had looked forward to having a child; we had prayed together about this frequently, and in the summer of 1942, a year approximately after we had settled at Goldings, Nora and I were overjoyed that we were going to be parents. We both wanted a girl a child who would give us as much joy as little Joan. And on December 27th Sunday evening, Nora went into the Hertford County Hospital, and Susan was born around six a.m. the following day which happened to be my day off. The news came via the school switchboard, and thus Evelyn knew about it as quickly as I did. The boys were informed on the early morning parade, and shouted so loudly that I could hear the cheers down at the cottage. We were very proud of Sue, and I remember kneeling in her room at the top of the stairs in 'Wych Elms' and quietly dedicating her to God Who had given her to us. She was to stay only six months at Goldings before we were off to Manchester.

I spent more time now at home, though school duties were increasing. Principally this was due to the war; wartime precautionary measures both for air-raids, blackouts, and also the turning of the estate into a potato farm, involved a good deal of extra work; sometimes we had to do night duty in the school - at least once per week, and sleep up there whilst planes were hovering overhead. This brought the staff together much more, and particularly in the dining and staff billiard rooms where I learned afresh the arts of snooker and billiards, and also a friendly cigarette (I had given up smoking twelve years earlier when playing soccer seriously). Those times in the long evenings, whilst the staff 'lived' around the boys, were times of great camaraderie.

I have mentioned that I had come into the school with the intention of staying in the work for the rest of my ministry. In the early part of 1942 there were certain things around the school that I may be offered a new position; by this it was my understanding that it would be a headship of another school. At first there was some talk of my appointment as head of a newer Home / school for younger children at Bayfordbury on the West of Hertford as we were on the north. But this did not materialize, and I was not anxious about it. Then I was asked to go down to the Russell Coates School in Bournemouth (Parkstone) to preach. The real reason I discovered later was that it was the intention of the Homes to open a new school in Parkstone for younger children, and it was becoming clear that it was Nora's services as Matron and qualified nurse that the Homes really wanted. This led to a certain degree of acrimony between myself and Mr. McAndrew the Head of the London Executive Committee, details of which can be seen in my correspondence. The affair convinced me that the London Committee were not taking seriously their promise that after a period of service as Deputy-Governor, a school would be offered; especially in view of the fact that I knew Mr. Macdonald has valued my work highly enough to say, when I left, that had I stayed he would never have resigned. Hence, I gave up any idea of continuing in the Homes, though I had no immediate plans, nor did I try to formulate any. I enjoyed working with Mr. Macdonald, and was content to stay on with him indefinitely. It was at this juncture that my name was submitted to the patrons of St. Phillips's Bradford Road, Manchester, as Rector (by John Peers, as I later learned, an old college friend, and Rector of a neighbouring church). I had been nearly six years in orders, had the experience of a slum and a residential parish and also now of institution work. I was excited by the offer, though not terribly anxious to take Nora to the centre of Manchester. We thought and prayed about it, and went to interview the Patrons in the Manchester Hotel, and accepted the parish. (Nora took over supervision of a Day Nursery for the Government in Hertford while we were here). It offered me a considerable increase in salary 400 pounds for my 250 and house at present. But there were other disadvantages in material circumstances. We were sad to leave the lovely surroundings of Goldings, but in the spring of 1943 when Susan was just six months old, the removal van took our goods and chattels from "Wych Elms" and placed them in the twenty three roomed Rectory of St. Phillips's Bradford Road Manchester.

The Goldings' period was significant for many things for us. Most important of all our first child was born there, and we became a family in the proper sense; it was a period I enjoyed because there was little pressure for constant giving of addresses. I had one sermon per week to prepare. Of course I had English Classes. It was certainly a valuable period in making the best friendships I have known, - though more were to come in Manchester and Hatherden. It give me the valuable opportunity, before going back into parish work, of looking hard at boys and men who were suspicious of false piety. I think this latter was probably the greatest influence on my ministry from the days at Goldings, - Religion was to be no less real, but a much deeper thing because much more to do with 'ordinary' life. Contact with 300 boys could not fail, with the most stupid of possible chaplains, to bring one well down to earth, and it was this that I took, along with the beautiful surplice the boys gave me as a farewell gift, with me to the grime of Manchester and the North in the early summer of 1943.

Reverend John Stanley Sharples.
GOLDINGS 28th March 1941 to Easter 1943 (April)