Hoyle and Hardbags

Now that the school term has finished for Easter, I have a moment to continue transcribing Louis’ letters. The autumn of 1912 was a cold one, but fifteen year old Louis was dreaming of even colder climes:

“You don’t seem to realise the possibilities of Siberia – there are plenty of tribes who wander about with immense herds – from place to place and fish and hunt, and live in tents. Besides I could wander all over the shop – from the Himalayas to China and round through Korea – and across the Arctic shores!! It would be topping – I couldn’t go to any tropical region for long – because I much prefer cold – and I certainly should think it would be much better to go to a place you wanted to. I think I’ll have to put my nose round Siberia before I’m done.”

He certainly never made it to Siberia, let alone Korea, but there is certainly an international flavour to the Advent Term’s letters. Louis mentions to his father that Rugby sponsors a Master at Noble college, Masulipatnam (now Machilipatnam) in southern India; the school is still open today, though Rugby’s charitable efforts in India are focussed a little more north.

As with many of Louis’ letters, there are many detailed descriptions of sermons in Chapel and sports matches on the Close. School House lost their second house football match of term, largely, it seems, through injury. Humphrey Hoyle (above), grandson of the MP for Heywood, Lancashire, was one of their star players, but he was kept off the pitch by a broken ankle. Hoyle left school a year later and, when war broke out, he joined the 5th Battalion, the Lancashire Fusiliers, and was killed in the Dardanelles Campaign, leading his men into battle at Krithia on the 20th of May 1915.

Like many schools, Rugby allows pupils to leave the classroom if no member of staff arrives by a certain time (heaven forbid!), and in 1912 that was fifteen minutes. Perhaps Louis’ least favourite member of staff was the Revd J.M. Hardwich (universally referred to as ‘Hardbags’ in the letters), and on the 10th of October Louis had written, with characteristic schoolboy excitement:

“Do you know, this morning we got a out from Hardwich from 1 ½ hr lesson!!! It was topping. We should have been in 1 ½ hrs doing Latin prose! But he didn’t come in the first ¼ of an hour so we took our cut. The suspense was awful. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. Oh! 10 minutes more! Here he is! No – oh! By George. 8 minutes – 10 minutes. Ssh!! Ssshh! 2 minutes more – get your books ready. 1 min. Hush! Listen “ding dong” Hurrah HURRAH!”

Interestingly, Hardwich was later a housemaster, and in 1928 a hot-air balloon crashed on to the roof of the house (now known as Whitelaw, see left), with the pilot sadly being killed as he attempted to climb down from his stranded craft.