‘I well remember Miss Beale’s first appearance at College, and how I and three or four special friends, who were already there ... felt fiercely loyal to the former rule, and told each other we knew exactly what the new Principal would be like, “thin, tall, spectacled, and old-maidy.” I can see her now as she appeared in reality,—the slight, young figure, the very gentle, gliding movements, the quiet face with its look of intense thoughtfulness and utter absence of all poor and common stress and turmoil, the intellectual brow, the wonderful eyes with their calm outlook and their expression of inner vision. You may be sure it was not long before the captious thirteen-year-olds were changed into warm admirers.‘I do not think her quiet dignity, her strength and personality, her power of influence, could at any time of her strenuous and successful life have been greater or more impressive. We were few in number then, and, of course, saw more of her than was possible for later pupils.‘I never remember her raising her voice, scolding us, being satirical or impatient with dulness or inattention. She was not satirical even when a small girl, on being asked what criticism might be passed on Milton’s treatment ofParadise Lost, ventured the audacious suggestion that the poet was “verbose.”’
‘I well remember Miss Beale’s first appearance at College, and how I and three or four special friends, who were already there ... felt fiercely loyal to the former rule, and told each other we knew exactly what the new Principal would be like, “thin, tall, spectacled, and old-maidy.” I can see her now as she appeared in reality,—the slight, young figure, the very gentle, gliding movements, the quiet face with its look of intense thoughtfulness and utter absence of all poor and common stress and turmoil, the intellectual brow, the wonderful eyes with their calm outlook and their expression of inner vision. You may be sure it was not long before the captious thirteen-year-olds were changed into warm admirers.
‘I do not think her quiet dignity, her strength and personality, her power of influence, could at any time of her strenuous and successful life have been greater or more impressive. We were few in number then, and, of course, saw more of her than was possible for later pupils.
‘I never remember her raising her voice, scolding us, being satirical or impatient with dulness or inattention. She was not satirical even when a small girl, on being asked what criticism might be passed on Milton’s treatment ofParadise Lost, ventured the audacious suggestion that the poet was “verbose.”’
Small instances of the new Principal’s own powers of observation and use of outside facts stand out through the mists of time; for instance,
‘an afternoon when she visited the needlework room and found me being most justly blamed for inefficiency. In kindly tones she said to the shy and clumsy culprit, “You ought to sew well, for your mother has such beautiful long fingers,” and somehow I felt comforted and encouraged. Then there was a day when I summoned up courage to go and tell her that I had been guiltyof some small disobedience, as well as others who had been detected and punished. She seized the opportunity of impressing upon me that as I was (though only fourteen) a teacher in my father’s Sunday-school,—a fact of which I did not know she was aware,—I must surely see that obedience to rule was necessary. I can still hear the low, earnest tones in which she made her appeal to my sense of justice and right.’
‘an afternoon when she visited the needlework room and found me being most justly blamed for inefficiency. In kindly tones she said to the shy and clumsy culprit, “You ought to sew well, for your mother has such beautiful long fingers,” and somehow I felt comforted and encouraged. Then there was a day when I summoned up courage to go and tell her that I had been guiltyof some small disobedience, as well as others who had been detected and punished. She seized the opportunity of impressing upon me that as I was (though only fourteen) a teacher in my father’s Sunday-school,—a fact of which I did not know she was aware,—I must surely see that obedience to rule was necessary. I can still hear the low, earnest tones in which she made her appeal to my sense of justice and right.’
The incident suggests a laxer state of discipline than was ever known after. Assuredly on this point Miss Beale found a good deal to do. Some of the ‘young ladies’ treated the good-natured French master as their brothers at Cheltenham College might have done. There is a story, too, of a convenient cupboard at the end of the schoolroom, large enough for a quiet game or gossip, and of the consternation produced on a little knot of girls who thought they had assembled unobserved, when the door was quietly opened upon them by the Lady Principal herself.
In the matter of discipline, as of tuition, Miss Beale appears to have worked on lines already laid down. Perhaps she kept before her mind counsel which she later gave to a pupil who left Cheltenham to be head of a Foundation School: ‘Remember the school belongs to the governors, not to you.’ But we are equally certain that she would not have worked on any lines which she did not approve. She found no system of rules and penalties. She did not wish to introduce one; but she made real and abiding, in a manner hardly credited by those outside, the rule introduced by Miss Procter, by which no pupil might speak to another without leave. With regard to this rule, which at once taught self-control and produced order, the ‘quietness which minimises irritability,’ it may be further remarked that in a place and time of ‘exclusive’ views, the College could hardly have existed without it. The rule, kept, in itselfprevented any pupil from making friends for the first time in College; at any rate, it enabled her not to do so. There was, however, when Miss Beale first came, a good deal of speaking without leave. This disobedience with other irregularities she gradually overcame, not by an overawing personality alone, but with the ‘quiet’ ways and the word in season of which more than one old pupil speaks.
Tracing in sequence the history of Miss Beale’s first two years, when the College, though in the eyes of the world slowly perishing, was really sinking strong foundations, the Report of 1859 stands out with its commendation of the new Lady Principal. ‘Of Miss Beale herself it may suffice to remark, that to varied and extensive knowledge in all branches of Education, and skill in imparting it, she unites a manner and disposition which at once command the respect and win the affection of her Pupils, and renders it pleasant to your Council to maintain that frequent personal communication with her which is greatly conducive to the wellbeing of the Institution.’ Beyond this there is little definite to record, save the steady half-yearly diminution in the number of pupils and of the balance at the bank, and the consequent retrenchments, implying fresh burden and effort for the small teaching staff.
In herHistory of the College, Miss Beale dismissed as with a smile the tale of her early struggles, when each quarter it seemed less likely that the school could live, till in the last half-year of 1859 there were only sixty-five pupils and but a few pounds in the bank. But she admitted that perhaps only a barrister sitting in his chambers, and waiting in vain for briefs, could sympathise with the anxiety of that time, when upon one or two pupils more or less depended the very existence ofthe College. The story she tells of recalling pupils, sent from the door by a servant who said she was at dinner, shows her unwearying zeal: ‘I sent her to fetch them back, saying, I am never at dinner.’ No pupil was lost for want of watchfulness. None could give notice without her knowing the reason, and in many cases getting the notice recalled. The problem was to live on, working in a way the public had not learned to appreciate. Those were days when nervous strain was little known and scarcely feared. School hours were long; the time-table of the College then involved morning and afternoon school for most days in the week. To one who sought ever to instruct with freshness and zeal, and to take trouble to make her pupils think for themselves, the work of teaching twice a day through the long half-years would now be counted an undue effort and strain. In addition to this, Dorothea Beale took upon herself, as if it were her own personal need (and she made it so), the daily fretting anxiety of making the College pay. This she never really threw off, though in the last years of established success it became somewhat modified. The economic strain was relaxed when Mr. Brancker’s able hand was laid upon the finances; the labour of teaching was lightened when the hours were changed, and when with gradually improving fortunes more and better teachers were engaged. Doubtless she might have taken advantage of these improvements to give herself more ease of body and mind. But she cared for no reward, save the ‘wages of going on.’ Her eager, nobly ambitious nature responded but too quickly to the claims of the College, so with each step made certain, there was ever immediately before her another to be fought for and won. It were hardly possible to say too much in praise of the enthusiasticself-sacrifice which made the College what it is; but some of the results of the early strife with fortune were to be deplored. It left her too conscious of the place of the institution in the public eye; it made it hard for her to justify a more generous expenditure than was possible at first.
The improved discipline, the invigorating teaching, even the efforts of the new Principal herself, failed to attract pupils, and when in 1860 the lease of Cambray House expired, no one was willing to take the responsibility of renewing it.
Forty years later, when looking back on that time of gloom, Miss Beale wrote: ‘How often I was full of discouragement. It was not so much the want of money as the want of ideals which depressed me. If I went into society I heard it said, “What is the good of education for our girls? They have not to earn their living.” Those who spoke did not see that for women as for men it is a sin to bury the talents God has given; they seemed not to know that the baptismal right was the same for girls as for boys, alike enrolled in the army of light, soldiers of Jesus Christ.
‘But helpers were sent with a faith and courage greater than mine.’
First among these was Mr. J. Houghton Brancker, who, already a member of the Council, became at the moment of deepest need, auditor of the accounts, and brought to the service of the College his great knowledge of business and enthusiastic interest in education. Mr. Brancker had come to live in Cheltenham for the sake of his daughters, in the year that Miss Beale became Principal. He was churchwarden to Mr. Bromby, whose liberal views he shared. Mr. Brancker had more than zeal and interest; he could think out a plan and pursueit. He spared no effort or trouble where a good end was to be obtained. When he became financier of the College he gave it ‘a large share of his time, and as a paid secretary could not be afforded, he undertook all duties gratuitously.’ He made out a new scheme by which the ordinary fees were lowered, but music and drawing became extras. It was too great a venture to renew the lease of Cambray House; but the owner of the house consented to take the College on as a yearly tenant. The new scheme of payment helped at once to bring improvement, the number of pupils went up, and Mr. Brancker went so far as to order ‘seven new benches, three of them with backs.’
Mr. T. Houghton Brancker
Mr. T. Houghton Brancker
This act of extravagance was followed almost immediately by an enlargement of the schoolroom, making it seventy feet long. Mr. Brancker proved that this additional space was really a financial economy; for with it all the pupils could be contained in one room, and the necessity of increasing the staff was deferred. As an alternative to the extension he breathed the suggestion, for the first time probably in the history of the College, of a new building, a building of its own, should a suitable site be obtained. In his letter on this subject to Mr. Hartland, the ‘young ladies’ for the first time appear as ‘children.’ Mr. Brancker’s dream was destined to be deferred for ten years; but was borne in mind by those whom it most concerned. It may be thought he was premature even in the enlargement, in spending at once the small profit made out of the increasing number of pupils. But he did not aim at making a fortune for the College. From the first it was proposed that the shareholders should reap no financial profit, and Mr. Brancker wished it to be evident that every penny was needed for the improvement of the work: hence, it wasno part of his plan to have a balance in hand. His effort was to keep up the prestige of the College in every way, and in order to do this he limited the number of shares issued to the actual number of pupils, in order that they might not be advertised for sale at a lower price than that at which they were purchased.
In three years from the time at which Mr. Brancker became auditor, he was able to write: ‘February 1863. We promised assets over £1000, they are £1076. We promised a money balance of over £200, and it is £356. So I think the shareholders may have confidence in their Chancellor of the Exchequer. We may well be proud of the result, but we aredeeplyindebted to Miss Beale’s exertions for it, and I am glad her remuneration (by capitation fees) is so much increased.’
By 1864 all pressing anxiety for the existence of the College was over. With its one hundred and thirty pupils it was practically full. A regularly constituted boarding-house was opened. Here the day-pupils, whose parents were leaving Cheltenham, could be taken, and thus another cause of diminution in the number of pupils was put an end to. Undivided attention and care could now be given to the work.
In February a change which greatly told on this was made, a change which now seems to have been only wise and reasonable, but which was at the time regarded as extraordinary and revolutionary. Longer morning hours were substituted for morning and afternoon school each day, Thursday afternoons being set apart for dancing and needlework. Possibly Miss Beale anticipated the outcry that would be raised; for she asked the mother of one of the pupils, one likely to be opposed to the change, to be with her at the Council meeting at which it was determined, ostensibly because she herself dreadedthe meeting, but doubtless in order that a representative of the parents might hear the subject fully discussed. No notice of the change was sent to the shareholders, parents and guardians received an intimation scarcely a week before it took place. Before that week was over, stormy articles appeared in the local papers, notices of removal were sent in, and a memorial from the shareholders and others caused Mr. Brancker hastily to summon another Council meeting, and to write to Mr. Hartland, ‘May I specially beg that you will attend ... as I consider the vital interests and the future prospects of the College are at stake.’ Mr. Brancker and Miss Beale recognised that now or never the battle must be won. Either the College authorities must rule, or the local papers and popular clamour.
The objections of the memorialists were that the change was acoup d’état; that four hours’ continuous study was too much for the children; that the governesses were idle in wanting a half-holiday every afternoon. But the real ground of dislike was doubtless that parents shirked the responsibility of looking after their children in the afternoons, and preferred schoolroom arrangements which would provide them with occupation during the whole day.
The Council replied in a circular to the parents that they would limit the experiment to a period of two months, after which they would act upon the opinion of the parents; and should the new plan be adopted, the quarter’s fees should be returned to those who wished to remove their children. The advantages of the change were then set forth.
It had been made to meet the objections raised to physical and mental effort following immediately upon a hurried meal; to the young ladies passing constantlythrough the streets, to the trouble of sending servants, the exertion of so much walking, the time wasted in dressing and undressing, and to many others.
Medical men, among whom were Dr. Barlow and Dr. Gull,[39]were asked for their opinions; these were uniformly favourable to the change. The long morning hours were lightened by the introduction of calisthenics, drawing, and needlework, and it was arranged that certain teachers should attend the College every afternoon to supervise the preparation of lessons when the parents desired it. When a general meeting on the subject took place at the end of the specified two months, only eight voted for the old system. ‘It was found,’ says Miss Beale, ‘that more work was done in less time, for attention was closer ... teachers and children had been able to get some afternoon exercise.’
What was then thought so extraordinary has since become the order of the day for girls’ schools. In this matter Cheltenham led the way, a similar change was made by Miss Buss in 1865, and when the hours of the Girls’ Public Day School Company were arranged in 1873, it was on the plan of putting all regular studies into the morning hours.
At the end of Miss Beale’s first six years the College was in a much improved condition. There were ten classes, where she had found six. The notable changes on the staff, which was now larger, were that Miss Brewer had left to open a school for little boys in Brighton, and Miss Anna Beale and the Miss Eatons had joined. Increased prosperity, and above all an older first class, enabled Miss Beale to introduce some of the subjects which at first were thought to be too unacceptable to be safe. There was, of course, opposition from those who wereconstantly repeating that ‘girls would be turned into boys by studying the same subjects.’ What, it was asked by some parents, do girls want with Euclid or advanced arithmetic? There were, however, a few who understood Miss Beale’s aims, and she was ever grateful for the support they gave her.
The method of annual examinations was gradually improved. When there was so little money available, local examiners, some of whom had no claim to the position, were chosen. Miss Beale records her conviction that a German examiner, who was at the time teaching in a local school, was a waiter from some hotel who had come to England out of the season. One English examiner recommended that history should be taught backwards. This was then regarded as an astounding proposition. Mr. Brancker fully sympathised with Miss Beale’s wish to improve the standard by obtaining examiners from one of the universities, and obtained permission from the Council to seek them himself in Oxford. The result was that for two or three years Mr. Sidney Owen undertook the principal part of the annual examination. His name was the first of a long list of men notable for scholarly achievement or educational progress, who in later years conducted these examinations at Cheltenham. In his first report Mr. Owen said much for the moral characteristics revealed by the intellectual work it was his business to survey. He concludes a very favourable judgment by saying he must not omit to mention that there were particular instances of remarkable excellence of which the College may justly be proud. Some of the papers he said, ‘would do credit to any Institution and gain high marks in any public examination.... May the College long give the lie to the miserable and pernicious fancy that accomplishmentsought to be the staple of a lady’s education, and that her reason is not designed by the Almighty to be highly cultivated.’ But he thought the papers too long. Mr. Owen was indeed the very first adventurer into that flood of response which examination questions cause to flow from uncontrolled feminine pens. Mr. Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) was in 1863 the first university examiner in arithmetic and mathematics.
This year was a fruitful one to Miss Beale for yet another reason. It was the year of the completion of herChart. Always interested in history, ideally and practically, she had as early as the Queen’s College days adopted a French scheme by which the learning of dates was to be simple and easy, and the connections of history, the bearing of facts and events upon each other, were to be seen at a glance. She now perfected and brought it into use. The plan was based on the assumption that a fact is more readily grasped through the eye, than by the ear. By means of large squares, which were to represent centuries, enclosing smaller ones, which should denote years, the whole coloured in different shades according to the different ruling dominions and dynasties, a complete outline of the history of a country was to appear on one page. The reckoning was made by which ninety-nine was counted as the last year of a century, with the result that in the year 1900 the chart found itself somewhat discredited. But this method of counting, of course, in no way interfered with the system. In learning dates at the College, great stress was laid upon having a chart open before the student, so that she might grow familiar with its look, and become able to call up the knowledge of any special event by remembering the position of a dot in a certain square. There were those to say with Canon Francis Holland, founder of theChurch of England High Schools in London, ‘Why was I born before such aids were given to the understanding?’ Whether this system was indeed the royal road Miss Beale had planned for her pupils may well be questioned; but theCharthad at any rate the value of a simplevade mecumof chronology, introducing every girl at College to the minimum of facts she should know in the history of the world.
TheChartdrew for its author a last kind word of recognition from an old friend, when Mr. Mackenzie wrote:—
‘Westbourne College, 1863.‘ ... I am proud to think that I had any part, however humble, in directing your mind to the Tabular style of teaching; and I am gratified to find that one of whom I had so early formed a favourable opinion, has proved to be so able a worker in the great cause of Education.‘I hope that you and your sisters, as well as my Godson, quite understand that I entertain for you all the feelings of an old friend, who values you on your own account as well as for the sake of both your Parents.—Believe me to be always your sincere Friend,C. Mackenzie.’
‘Westbourne College, 1863.
‘ ... I am proud to think that I had any part, however humble, in directing your mind to the Tabular style of teaching; and I am gratified to find that one of whom I had so early formed a favourable opinion, has proved to be so able a worker in the great cause of Education.
‘I hope that you and your sisters, as well as my Godson, quite understand that I entertain for you all the feelings of an old friend, who values you on your own account as well as for the sake of both your Parents.—Believe me to be always your sincere Friend,
C. Mackenzie.’
So, in the best sense the College grew. Not in outward prosperity alone, in teaching power, in class rooms; but within. The invisible fabric of mind, and will, and heart, co-ordinated by one great idea, was slowly being raised. The ‘aborigines,’ as those who were girls of the Cambray House time call themselves, even insist that at no time of her career was Miss Beale’s personal influence so direct as then, when teaching so many subjects herself, and in small classes, she came personally in contact with nearly all the older pupils. All classes had their place and desks in the long hall; but the lowest division had a separate schoolroom as soon as funds justified it, and the rooms of the house, even onoccasion those appointed to the Principal, were used as classrooms. Miss Beale did not often teach in the large hall. The young ones were cleared out of their division room when she gave a big lecture; a small class, such as one for German translation, would be taken in her drawing-room. There came a moment when even her bedroom was invaded. Those small classes of mathematics or German were more especially the ones which endeared teacher and pupils to each other. There was always enough personal awe and inspiration about the Lady Principal to ensure a well-prepared lesson from really interested pupils, and often beyond the lesson there would be delightful talk.Iphigenie in Taurisrecalls many thoughts beyond German translation, and the verbal exercise itself was deprived of every vestige of dulness by her great interest in the growth and development of words. No noble thought, no fine simile was allowed to pass unnoticed; other poems were compared, or perhaps a passage would be given to be translated into English verse. In the mere suggestion of this, what hope and encouragement lay for many who hardly liked to own their pleasure in such an attempt, or who had found earlier efforts of the kind thwarted by criticism too bracing for beginners! It may indeed be thought that Miss Beale had always an unwarranted admiration for the verse-making of her pupils. If in this she sometimes offended the cause of pure literature, her attitude towards it was yet surely the right one for a teacher.
This must indeed have been one of the happiest periods of her work, when she first came into near touch with the children she had seen grow up about her, and felt herself able to give impetus and training to growing aspirations and developing thought, when her sympathywas constantly appealed to in the way in which she could best give it.
‘It is my peculiar privilege to have spent all my College career in her class, to go through years of her special personal teaching. In later days, when the College assumed larger dimensions, such an experience must have been rare; to those who could claim it, it meant a potent influence for life. How vividly can I recall her sitting on her little dais, scanning the long school-room and discovering anything amiss at the far end of it; or making a tour of inspection to the various classes with a smiling countenance that banished terror.’
‘It is my peculiar privilege to have spent all my College career in her class, to go through years of her special personal teaching. In later days, when the College assumed larger dimensions, such an experience must have been rare; to those who could claim it, it meant a potent influence for life. How vividly can I recall her sitting on her little dais, scanning the long school-room and discovering anything amiss at the far end of it; or making a tour of inspection to the various classes with a smiling countenance that banished terror.’
So writes one old pupil of that time. Another speaks of that deep tenderness which she ever felt, but often concealed, and was not afraid of showing in a case of special need.
‘When I was almost a child at College I lost my mother, and shall never forget Miss Beale’s tender sympathy and help. She took such interest in my preparation for Confirmation, and brought me herself to my first Communion,—just she and I alone; a day I shall always remember. All through my girlhood she was a kind and ready adviser, and continued her interest throughout my married life. One always felt whatever happened to one, Now I must tell Miss Beale.’
‘When I was almost a child at College I lost my mother, and shall never forget Miss Beale’s tender sympathy and help. She took such interest in my preparation for Confirmation, and brought me herself to my first Communion,—just she and I alone; a day I shall always remember. All through my girlhood she was a kind and ready adviser, and continued her interest throughout my married life. One always felt whatever happened to one, Now I must tell Miss Beale.’
It is sad to know that Miss Beale was often depressed in that hopeful spring-time of the College by the tongues of gossip and slander. She had so profound a horror of petty talk about other people’s business, that she possibly exaggerated the importance of carelessly repeated and untrue reports. She mentions the local gossip from which the College had to suffer.
‘Tales were handed about that it was impossible to trace. It was said that accomplishments were neglected, that the pupils played on dumb pianos. Persons who did not exist, and others who would never have been admitted, were said to attend the College. News was sent out to Canada that the cattle plague was prevailing, and the report was half believed. The merecirculation of absurd falsehoods is, however, often enough to decide a mother to place her daughter elsewhere; sometimes no falsehood at all, a contemptuous tone is enough. Such things can only be met by silence and steady and unobtrusive work. Perhaps one is better off without the children of those who accept their rule of life from Mrs. Grundy. Certainly such opposition and persecution prove an excellent tonic, and I personally feel grateful for it, though it was a bitter draught. We had to remember that the interests of some were injured by the establishment of the College; the wish being father to the thought, people would sometimes believe what they said.’
‘Tales were handed about that it was impossible to trace. It was said that accomplishments were neglected, that the pupils played on dumb pianos. Persons who did not exist, and others who would never have been admitted, were said to attend the College. News was sent out to Canada that the cattle plague was prevailing, and the report was half believed. The merecirculation of absurd falsehoods is, however, often enough to decide a mother to place her daughter elsewhere; sometimes no falsehood at all, a contemptuous tone is enough. Such things can only be met by silence and steady and unobtrusive work. Perhaps one is better off without the children of those who accept their rule of life from Mrs. Grundy. Certainly such opposition and persecution prove an excellent tonic, and I personally feel grateful for it, though it was a bitter draught. We had to remember that the interests of some were injured by the establishment of the College; the wish being father to the thought, people would sometimes believe what they said.’
Matters reached a climax when an absolutely untrue statement concerning cruelty to animals was set on foot about Mrs. Fraser, who had opened a boarding-house in connection with the College. The real gravity of the report lay in the circumstance that some in the College had listened to it, and it was necessary to address the teachers on the subject. It was a painful task, but bravely faced by the Lady Principal, who said:
‘Now I have nothing to do to judge them that are without. We must cheerfully bear evil-speaking. But if it come from within, the matter is for that reason a serious one; for this reason I feel it must be traced up to its source.... I feel I can appeal to you as lovers of truth, as those who feel that no advantages of education, of health, or any other, can compensate for the disadvantage which would arise to any children who lived in an atmosphere of evil-speaking, lying, and slandering.’
‘Now I have nothing to do to judge them that are without. We must cheerfully bear evil-speaking. But if it come from within, the matter is for that reason a serious one; for this reason I feel it must be traced up to its source.... I feel I can appeal to you as lovers of truth, as those who feel that no advantages of education, of health, or any other, can compensate for the disadvantage which would arise to any children who lived in an atmosphere of evil-speaking, lying, and slandering.’
Thus grasped, the nettle ceased to sting. It was perhaps a small incident scarcely worth noting. But Miss Beale remembered it as one which caused great discomfort at the time, and it had far-reaching consequences. Her power then was more limited than in after years. She learned through this difficulty the need for more liberty to act independently of the Council in the internal management of the College. In her efforts to get the evil rooted out from their midst, she nearlyexceeded her powers. This, doubtless, taught her to prosecute her reforms more warily. Above all, it may be believed that she gained a fresh access of that self-control so necessary to all governors. For it is only in fiction that difficulty can be overcome by a sudden word or action; in real life work has to be carried on despite the obstacle;—growth takes place under pressure.
Outside the work of the College there is not a great deal to relate about Miss Beale’s life at this period. Her holidays were sometimes spent in visits to her family.
After the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. John Beale, Hyde Court, the old family house came into the possession of Miss Beale’s mother, who had been left a widow in 1862. In 1868 Mrs. Beale came with two daughters to reside at Hyde Court until her death in 1881. There the Lady Principal often went in the holidays, finding pleasure in the beautiful surroundings. An old pupil tells of the delights of a visit to her there,—of Mrs. Beale, whom her daughter Dorothea greatly resembled, calm and majestic looking, of the glorious view from the windows of the room appropriated to Miss Beale and her large correspondence.
A good part of the holidays even then was spent in Cheltenham, but there were some visits abroad. One year Miss Beale accompanied her brother Edward, then recovering from illness, to the Black Forest. On another occasion she went with her sister to Chamounix, and enjoyed the mountain walks. In 1864 she spent some time at Zürich. More than once she went to Paris. This continental travel was by no means for recreation and refreshment only. It nearly always implied visits to schools, where fresh and foreign methods were studied. No opportunity of gaining new ideas wasever neglected, for Miss Beale could not understand ever living apart from her work. In the holidays, as in school-time, she was still working, though in a different way. In Cheltenham itself there was little time or opportunity for recreation. Society, as the word is generally understood, had little to say to the new head-mistress, whose insignificant figure and plain dress did not provoke much interest. Her absence of small talk, her quiet intellectual face, her reputation as a clever woman, her connection with Queen’s College, all represented something unwonted and new. She had received no welcome from the religious world of Cheltenham, whose leaders, Mr. Close and Mr. Boyd, though one of them had accepted a seat on the Council, remained aloof from the interests of the Ladies’ College, perhaps sharing the prejudice still prevalent against any departure from the beaten track of women’s education.
It was of little moment to Miss Beale to find herself unsought by society, for she seldom cared to spend an evening from her work. She could not understand the position, which some have thought it wise to take up, that it is good for a school to have its head seen in society. She held it to be best for a school that its head should give herself unremittingly to her work,—disastrous to the welfare of any pupils for their teacher to sacrifice to social engagements the time she ought to give to the preparation of lessons. The friends of that early time were a few thoughtful people who were interested like herself in education.
On first coming to Cheltenham Miss Beale, to please Miss Brewer, she said, attended Christchurch, but she soon left this for St. Philip’s and St. James’ at Leckhampton, and for St. Paul’s. Both these churches were less obviously in the possession of wealthy seat-holdersthan the churches in the town. To St. Philip’s she went at that time when she ‘wanted to be quiet,’ taking up a position near the door. All the middle of that church was then occupied by charity children and the poor, but there were in the rich part of the congregation many whose names have interest from one cause or another.
The incumbent of St. Philip’s, the Rev. A. E. Riddle, was a man of much learning. He had been Bampton Lecturer in 1832, and was the author of a well-known Latin Dictionary and other books. Miss Beale felt at home in his great library, and visits to Mrs. Riddle at Tudor Lodge were among the few recreations. Mr. Riddle died in 1859, and for the next few years she seems to have regularly attended St. Paul’s or Holy Trinity churches. She found real friends in the parsonage-house at St. Paul’s, but the immediate tie was soon broken, for in 1864 Mr. Bromby was made Bishop of Tasmania.
The claims of relationship and early friendship were not forgotten, but there was little time for letter-writing beyond the ever-growing correspondence connected with work. Mr. Beale wrote playfully of his daughter’s growing absorption:—
‘You always write as if you were at the top of your speed, and this is not good. I doubt not you have a great deal to occupy your time and your attention, but pray do not be always in a hurry, you will inevitably break down if you are so—you will lose in power what you gain in speed, as certainly as in mechanics; and with greater danger to the regularity of the machine.... I am really fearful to take up your time.... I daresay now you are scrambling through my note without that respect to which the writer and the subject are entitled. But pray remember that to neglect (the care of your health) is the worst economy in the world....‘I will now release you, but I was unwilling quite to loseyour correspondence, though do not write to me until you have a little patient leisure.’
‘You always write as if you were at the top of your speed, and this is not good. I doubt not you have a great deal to occupy your time and your attention, but pray do not be always in a hurry, you will inevitably break down if you are so—you will lose in power what you gain in speed, as certainly as in mechanics; and with greater danger to the regularity of the machine.... I am really fearful to take up your time.... I daresay now you are scrambling through my note without that respect to which the writer and the subject are entitled. But pray remember that to neglect (the care of your health) is the worst economy in the world....
‘I will now release you, but I was unwilling quite to loseyour correspondence, though do not write to me until you have a little patient leisure.’
Thus, in difficulty and obscurity, the life-work of Dorothea Beale was begun. But hers was a light which could not long be hid. Each year it burned more surely and shone further afield. By 1864, when the Endowed Schools’ Inquiry Commission was instituted, she was known as a successful head-mistress whose views and methods were worth hearing. With Miss Buss and others she was asked to give evidence.
‘I learnt the royal genealogiesOf Oviedo, the internal lawsOf the Burmese Empire,—by how many feetMount Chimborazo outsoars Teneriffe,What navigable river joins itselfTo Lara, and what census of the year fiveWas taken at Klagenfurt....I learnt much music, ...fine sleights of handAnd unimagined fingering.’E. B. Browning,Aurora Leigh.
‘I learnt the royal genealogiesOf Oviedo, the internal lawsOf the Burmese Empire,—by how many feetMount Chimborazo outsoars Teneriffe,What navigable river joins itselfTo Lara, and what census of the year fiveWas taken at Klagenfurt....I learnt much music, ...fine sleights of handAnd unimagined fingering.’E. B. Browning,Aurora Leigh.
‘I learnt the royal genealogiesOf Oviedo, the internal lawsOf the Burmese Empire,—by how many feetMount Chimborazo outsoars Teneriffe,What navigable river joins itselfTo Lara, and what census of the year fiveWas taken at Klagenfurt....I learnt much music, ...fine sleights of handAnd unimagined fingering.’E. B. Browning,Aurora Leigh.
‘I learnt the royal genealogiesOf Oviedo, the internal lawsOf the Burmese Empire,—by how many feetMount Chimborazo outsoars Teneriffe,What navigable river joins itselfTo Lara, and what census of the year fiveWas taken at Klagenfurt....I learnt much music, ...fine sleights of handAnd unimagined fingering.’
‘I learnt the royal genealogies
Of Oviedo, the internal laws
Of the Burmese Empire,—by how many feet
Mount Chimborazo outsoars Teneriffe,
What navigable river joins itself
To Lara, and what census of the year five
Was taken at Klagenfurt....
I learnt much music, ...
fine sleights of hand
And unimagined fingering.’
E. B. Browning,Aurora Leigh.
E. B. Browning,Aurora Leigh.
This volume, which memorialises one great name in one field of women’s work, is not the place in which to dwell upon the details of that work in other departments. But it may be remarked in passing that the educational movement itself was but a part—an essential part—of a larger one. It seemed, Miss Beale often said in speaking of this time, that women, like the damsel of old, heard the Voice of the Master penetrating the slumber of death, bidding them Arise. And they obeyed. They arose in many and various ways to minister to Him.
The first sign of this awakening was publicly seen in 1844, when Dr. Pusey engaged several leading laymen, among whom was Mr. Gladstone, to help him in the foundation of an Anglican Sisterhood. Two or three Orders date from before the opening of Queen’s College in 1848; those at Clewer and Wantage followed soonafter. The devotion of Florence Nightingale and her little band in 1854 led many to follow her example, and the reform of nursing steadily if slowly followed. In 1866, before the reports of the Schools’ Inquiry were published, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell took an M.D. degree in Switzerland, and Miss Garrett began to study for one in London. The desire for better teaching and training was widespread. The establishment of the Cheltenham Ladies’ College was a part of a larger movement which was affecting the whole country. Sixteen years had passed since the opening of Queen’s College had unsealed the fountain of knowledge for women. Immediately after, in 1849, a college had been established on undenominational lines. This was Bedford College, which found a liberal donor in Mr. Reid, and among its first teachers counted Francis Newman, De Morgan, and Dr. Carpenter. These led the way. Then in 1850 the great school which will for ever be associated with the name of Frances Mary Buss was opened in Camden Road, its enterprising head-mistress having there removed the private school she had carried on successfully for some years, to develop it on the lines of a public school, under the enlightened supervision of Mr. Laing. Cheltenham followed four years later, and these two, for many years the only public schools for girls in the country, may be considered the direct offspring of Queen’s College.
The general condition of girls’ education remained unimproved some years longer. Yet amid the thousands of private schools where worthless or poor teaching prevailed, there were a few which had come into the hands of capable women who had been inspired by the noble ideals of those who led the religious and intellectual thought of the day. The name of Elizabeth Sewell is representative of these; but for the most part theylived and died unknown, because their work was of less public moment than that of the great leaders. Yet, in an account of women’s education it seems ungracious to name only the well known, however great, and to pass unnoticed the wise virgins, less prominent but not less faithful, whose lamps shone and were replenished through the night. In her death, as in her work on earth, Dorothea Beale was not alone. Miss Sewell, aged ninety, passed but a few weeks before her, and very shortly after two other unknown fellow-workers, who had not laboured in vain. TheTimesof January 1907 told of Miss Piper, the founder and head of Laleham. Of Miss Piper it could be said, that at a time when the instruction given to girls was of a formal character, ‘she set herself to make her pupils think, to stimulate interest, to enforce thoroughness.’ These were the very points on which the Schools’ Commission found girls’ education defective. A fortnight later died Emily Milner, who was for fifty years head of St. Mary’s School at Brighton, to which she devoted all her small income. She taught with marvellous energy and freshness, inspiring her pupils themselves to be zealous and persevering, and keeping them in touch with all that was best in the rapid advance and change of modern education. But such head-mistresses were rare. The Commissioners seldom found either thoroughness or freshness in the schools they inspected.
The Schools’ Inquiry Commission was instituted in 1864, a year in which John Ruskin, in a lecture at Manchester, made a passionate appeal to rich women to claim their right to serve—and reign. His cry did not reach a larger public until, eight years later, the lecture was published under the title ‘Of Queens’ Gardens’ inSesame and Lilies. Like the simultaneous discoveryof some great star, by watchers strange to one another and half a continent apart, the movement for enlarging the scope of women’s work was furthered by men of divers ways and methods, heralded by visionaries like Tennyson and Ruskin, marshalled into deliberate order by high-hearted officials like the Secretary of the Governesses’ Benevolent Society and the School Inspector Joshua Fitch. Possibly no Assistant Commissioner, as he drew up his report, recalled the ringing words of Ruskin. But though the medium varies to the stretch of difference between the inspiration of a great poem and the deliberate statements of a blue-book, we recognise the same force behind both, and see both alike to be channels for one great stream of tendency. The conclusions drawn from the report, the resulting effects seen in new schools and organised public examinations, miss nothing of their special value if regarded in connection with such words as these:—
‘Let a girl’s education be as serious as a boy’s. You bring up your girls as if they were meant for side-board ornaments, and then complain of their frivolity. Give them the same advantages that you give their brothers ... teachthem, also, that courage and truth are the pillars of their being.... There is hardly a girl’s school in this Christian Kingdom where the children’s courage and sincerity would be thought of half so much importance as their way of coming in at a door.... And give them, lastly, not only noble teachings, but noble teachers.’[40]
‘Let a girl’s education be as serious as a boy’s. You bring up your girls as if they were meant for side-board ornaments, and then complain of their frivolity. Give them the same advantages that you give their brothers ... teachthem, also, that courage and truth are the pillars of their being.... There is hardly a girl’s school in this Christian Kingdom where the children’s courage and sincerity would be thought of half so much importance as their way of coming in at a door.... And give them, lastly, not only noble teachings, but noble teachers.’[40]
The Schools’ Inquiry Commission was instituted to examine into the existing state of education above the elementary grade, and to report on measures needed for its improvement, having special regard to all endowments applicable, or which could rightly be made applicable, thereto. By the instance of Miss Emily Davies,girls’ schools were included in the inquiry. Among the Commissioners was Lord Lyttelton, who was regarded by those who wished to improve women’s education as a friend to girls. He had manfully asserted their right to a share of the endowments, and of women to a share in the management of girls’ schools. Sir Stafford Northcote, Dr. Temple, and Mr. Forster were also members of the Commission. Among the Assistant Commissioners, whose business it was to visit and report upon schools, were such well-known names as those of T. H. Green, J. G. Fitch, and J. Bryce.
No schools outside the eight selected districts were visited, but the Principals of some beyond their limit were requested to give evidence before the Commissioners in London. In the year 1868-9 reports and evidence were gradually issued in a series of twenty large blue-books. Of these volumes about nineteen-twentieths related to the education of boys and general questions, and about one-twentieth to the education of girls alone.
Miss Beale hailed the Commission as a means of bringing the thousand inefficiencies of girls’ education to the light. She took advantage of it in an address she gave in 1865 at Bristol, at a meeting of that now extinct body, the Social Science Congress, when she pleaded that, for boys and girls alike, education should be planned with the view of developing character. Her argument was none the less weighty because so carefully guarded:—
‘Let me say at once that I desire to institute no comparison between the mental abilities of boys and girls, but simply to say what seems to be the right means of training girls, so that they may best perform that subordinate part in the world to which, I believe, they have been called.‘First, then, I think that the education of girls has too oftenbeen made showy, rather than real and useful; that accomplishments have been made the main thing, because these would, it was thought, enable a girl to shine and attract, while those branches of study especially calculated to form the judgment, to cultivate the understanding, and to discipline the character (which would fit her to perform the duties of life) have been neglected; and thus, while temporary pleasure and profit have been sought, the great moral ends of education have been too often lost sight of.‘To the poorer classes the toil and struggle of their daily life do, to some extent, afford an education which gives earnestness, and strength, and reality; and if we would not have the daughters of the higher classes idle and frivolous, they too must be taught to appreciate the value of work. We must endeavour to give them, while young, such habits, studies, and occupations as will brace the mind, improve the taste, and develop the moral character. They must learn, not for the sake of display, but from motives of duty. They must not choose the easy and agreeable, and neglect what is dull and uninviting. They must not expect to speak languages without mastering the rudiments; nor require to be finished in a year or two, but impatiently refuse to labour at a foundation.’
‘Let me say at once that I desire to institute no comparison between the mental abilities of boys and girls, but simply to say what seems to be the right means of training girls, so that they may best perform that subordinate part in the world to which, I believe, they have been called.
‘First, then, I think that the education of girls has too oftenbeen made showy, rather than real and useful; that accomplishments have been made the main thing, because these would, it was thought, enable a girl to shine and attract, while those branches of study especially calculated to form the judgment, to cultivate the understanding, and to discipline the character (which would fit her to perform the duties of life) have been neglected; and thus, while temporary pleasure and profit have been sought, the great moral ends of education have been too often lost sight of.
‘To the poorer classes the toil and struggle of their daily life do, to some extent, afford an education which gives earnestness, and strength, and reality; and if we would not have the daughters of the higher classes idle and frivolous, they too must be taught to appreciate the value of work. We must endeavour to give them, while young, such habits, studies, and occupations as will brace the mind, improve the taste, and develop the moral character. They must learn, not for the sake of display, but from motives of duty. They must not choose the easy and agreeable, and neglect what is dull and uninviting. They must not expect to speak languages without mastering the rudiments; nor require to be finished in a year or two, but impatiently refuse to labour at a foundation.’
These words were pioneers of the Commissioners’ reports, in which they find a literal echo. The reports, with her own evidence and that of other ladies interested in education, were by Miss Beale preserved for posterity. She perceived instinctively that if they were not brought into general circulation all would soon be forgotten, much never known at all. With that stern sense of economy which caused her never to waste an opportunity or a scrap of material, she took the task upon herself. She obtained permission to republish the matter relating to girls’ schools in a single volume, for which she wrote a preface. In this she dealt with the evidence of the Commissioners, discussing at some length the questions of examinations and overwork. But she sought chiefly, as she had already done a few years before in an article inFraser’s Magazine,[41]to show theneed of real study for women, the advantage to be gained for character and mind from such subjects as history and literature.
The general report of the Commissioners on Girls’ Education forms the first chapter of Miss Beale’s blue-book. It opened with a quotation to the effect that an educated mother is of even more importance than an educated father. Miss Beale may have thought this an exaggerated statement; but she must have welcomed and republished it with some satisfaction. She was for ever having it dinned into her ears, by those who opposed all serious study for their daughters, that girls should be educated to be wives and mothers. Mrs. Grey showed the real fallacy of the statement, in a paper which was the direct result of the republished reports, when she pointed out that girls were not being educated tobewives, but togethusbands. A happy marriage Mrs. Grey held to be ‘thesummum bonumof a woman’s life ... not an object to be striven for, but to be received as the supreme grace of fate when the right time and the right person come.’[42]With Miss Beale and Miss Emily Davies she deprecated the education which is designed from the first to fit and prepare for a special position in life. She would have women and men alike, working men, tradesmen, men of fortune educated as human beings, not technically instructed for some special walk in life. In eloquent words she pictured the ideal for which she and others like-minded were striving, and were seeking to attain by the practical method of enlightening public opinion, founding schools, asking for public examinations. She wrote:—