Some Observations and Memories of C S Kipping (1891-1964)

Some observations and memories of C S Kipping (1891-1964)

by Corwyn P Vale (pupil 1931-

Page 1 of 10

Ancestry and life up to his appointment at Wednesbury

The earliest forebear of C S Kipping of which the present writer has knowledge is the Victorian painter Charles Allen Duval. Duval was born in Ireland but moved first to Liverpool and then, in 1833, settled in Manchester where he spent the rest of his life, dying in 1872. He was apparently a painter with a high reputation, many of his works being exhibited in the Royal Academy between 1836 and 1872, and a column devoted to him is to be found in the Dictionary of National Biography.

One of his daughters, Julia, met and married in 1862 James Stanley Kipping, a man holding a post at that time in the Manchester branch of the Bank of England of which his father was head. Another daughter, Florence, married a JP of Bridgewater, named W T Holland, of which more will be said later.

James Stanley and Julia Kipping had seven children, 3 boys and 4 girls, of whom the eldest, Frederick Stanley Kipping was born on August 16th 1863 at Higher Broughton, Manchester. F S Kipping entered Manchester Grammar School at the age of 11 and matriculated at the University of London in 1879. Thereafter he entered Owen’s College Manchester graduating BSc in 1882 with a second class in Zoology. His main interest, however, was chemistry and, after working for several years for the Manchester gas department, he was persuaded to study in Germany and entered the University of Munich in Spring 1886. There, working under the supervision of the eminent German chemist von Bacyer, he met and worked with W H Perkin, son of Sir William Perkin, founder of the British synthetic dye industry.

F S Kipping was awarded his PhD by the University of Munich and later the degree of DSc by the University of London. Subsequently he worked for a short time as a lecturer and demonstrator at the Herriot Watt College in Edinburgh, and from 1890 to 1897 he held a post at the Central Technical College of the City and Guilds London Institute. In 1897 he was elected an FRS and appointed Professor of Chemistry at University College, Nottingham.

In March 1888 he married Lily Holland the daughter of W T Holland, mentioned earlier, and his first cousin. His close friend and collaborator, W H Perkin, met and married another daughter of W T Holland, Mina. Perkin was later to become Waynflete Professor of Chemistry at the University of Oxford, and collaborate with F S Kipping in the authorship of the most famous organic chemistry textbook known to many students in the first half of the 20th century.

During his London period F S Kipping and his wife resided at 7 Milbourne Grove, South Kensington, and it must have been there that their first child, baptised Cyril Henry Stanley, was born on October 10th, 1891.

In 1893 Arthur Lapworth, later to become Professor of Chemistry at the University of Manchester, joined the Chemistry Department at the Central Technical College and studied chemistry under Kipping’s supervision. They became good friends and, invited to stay with Kipping and his wife at the Hollands’ in Bridgewater, Lapworth met yet another daughter of W T Holland, Kathleen, to whom he was later married. It is a most curious circumstance that three of the most outstanding organic chemists of their age should have married three sisters.

In addition to CSK, Frederick Stanley Kipping had three other children: two girls and a younger son, Frederic Barry Kipping (1902-1965), who was later to become a Cambridge University Lecturer in Chemistry, and a Fellow of St John’s College.

Apart from his chemical work, F S Kipping had a great number of interests. He was fond of outdoor life and played tennis, cricket and golf with much enthusiasm. He was also a keen billiards player, though chess is not specifically mentioned by his biographers.[1]F S Kipping took up his duties at University College, and the family moved to Nottingham when CSK was six years old. They resided in the Mapperly district, a middle-class, well-to-do part of the town. A friendship soon developed between FSK and his colleague Ernest Weekley, Professor of French at University College.[2] The two regularly played golf together on Wednesday afternoons, and there was no doubt much visiting between the two households. It was into this scene that novelist and poet, D H Lawrence, burst in 1912 when, on a visit to the Weekleys to seek advice on a language course, he met Mrs Weekley and ultimately ran away with her. There are one or two references in the recently-published letters of Frieda Lawrence to the kindness of the Kippings, and it is interesting to realise that Frieda Lawrence (or Frieda Weekley as she then was) must have been well well-known to CSK when a boy.

At the age of 11 CSK entered Nottingham High School[3] and from there proceeded in 1910 to Trinity Hall, Cambridge[4]. He must obviously have shown signs of a talent for Chemistry at that time, and an early keenness on lawn tennis was also clearly derived from his father’s interest[5]. But the source of his interest in chess is uncertain.[6] He was beginning to publish chess problems of considerable merit by 1912[7]. At Cambridge, reading the Natural Sciences Tripos, he took a first class in Part I in 1912, and a first class in Part II (Chemistry) in 1913, proceeding BA in 1913 and MA in 1919.[8]

All seemed set for him to follow in his father’s footsteps as a brilliant chemist, and indeed he did do a year’s research in Organic Chemistry. For some reason, however, he tired of it, and, probably to his father’s disappointment, quit research and took up school-mastering. He obtained a teaching post at Weymouth College in 1914 where he stayed until 1918. On this period of his life the present writer is somewhat hazy.[9] He would have been only 22 at the outbreak of the First World War and 27 at the end of it, and would presumably have been subject to conscription in 1916. The writer, however, remembers nothing said of him, or by him, which suggests that he was engaged on active service during this period. He seems to have been active in the OTC while at Weymouth, because in after life, one remembers him saying how he had to train boys to go out and fight in the First World War, and, in a more jocular vein, referring to the difficulties encountered in putting on puttees. However this may be, he left Weymouth in 1918 and joined the staff of Bradfield College[10], where he remained for only a term. From a few chance remarks, rather dimly remembered, one got the impression that he disliked the school where, as he recalled, athletic sixth formers (or “Bloods”) had more privileges than members of the staff. After Bradfield he obtained a post at Pocklington School (East Yorkshire) where he became second master and remained until his appointment as Headmaster of Wednesbury High School in 1924.[11]

The establishment of a secondary school at Wednesbury must have formed the subject of numerous discussions by the Staffordshire County Council of that period, but very little thought seems to have gone into the provision of suitable accommodation for the new school. The original building was Wood Green Lodge, the home of Sir Albert Pritchard, a man of considerable substance and a previous Wednesbury Councillor, Alderman and Mayor. The appointment of a Headmaster was announced in the local press in the summer of 1924, and presumably the new Headmaster (working out his last term at Pocklington) had the job of appointing staff and recruiting pupils.

How the pupils were selected is not clear though initially there were 51 pupils divided into three forms. It seems probable that most of these were fee payers, though some scholarships may have been awarded by the County. The boys must all have been under 12 years of age, because Kipping has related the astonishment encountered when one of them actually came to school in long trousers.[12]

Three graduates were appointed initially as assistant masters. The senior and most experienced of these was Arthur Cecil Evanson, a graduate in Mathematics of the University of Liverpool. He seems to have been a curious choice. He was of about the same age as Kipping (a Liverpool University calendar of 1911 lists him as an undergraduate) and, like Kipping, had a heavy moustache and wore a winged collar. His previous appointments are unknown but it seems clear from what has been said by colleagues and contemporary pupils that he was far from stable. Accomplished as a musician and a mathematician he seems to have had no idea of keeping discipline, and has been described as an “incurable alcoholic”. He was summarily dismissed by Kippingsome time in the winter term of 1930. The precise reason for this is unknown, though rumour has it that, after repeated warnings by Kipping, he hurled a drawing board at a boy and broke the boy’s nose.

The other two graduate masters were Richard Victor Rutherford, a graduate in Modern Languages of St Catharine’s College, Cambridge[13]; and John Osborne Nicholls, a History graduate of Lincoln College Oxford[14]. Both these men came direct from university[15] and had no previous teaching experience.

R V Rutherford, a pale rather balding man with spectacles (familiarly known among the boys as “egg-yead”) was also very musical and played the cello. He left Wednesbury in July 1929 on appointment to the Merchant Taylors School, Crosby, in Lancashire.

J O Nicholls remained at the School only two years, going from there via a theological college into the Anglican Church. For a period in the Thirties he was vicar of St Paul’s Church at Wednesbury, and conducted the memorial service on the death of Sir Albert Pritchard (who was from the school’s opening Chairman of the School Governors) in 1937, which was attended by the staff and boys of the High School. Later he took a living in a more northerly part of the Lichfield Diocese and became a prebendary of Lichfield Cathedral[16]. His death was announced in 1975.

R V Rutherford must have presumably died at some time prior to 1957, since his name does appear in the directory of St Catharine’s College Cambridge published in that year, nor has it appeared for some years in the Cambridge University Almanac.[17] No information has been obtained on the movements of A C Evanson since 1930 and it is presumed that he too is dead. He would in any case be in his mid-eighties.

The only other member of the original staff was Sergeant Sydney Allerston. How or why he was appointed was never revealed, though his northern accent suggests that he came from Yorkshire and that he was persuaded on some basis to move to Wednesbury by CSK. It is possible that he was connected with Pocklington.[18] His duties initially must have been exceptionally light. With only three forms and two periods per week of Physical Training each, he had hardly a heavy timetable. True he acted as “groundsman”, but in the early days the school playing fields, we are told, were much less extensive than they later became. It is possible that he filled in with office duties, though these too cannot have been heavy with a school of only 57 boys. Sgt Allerston left the School in 1941, and his death was reported in 1976.

Some memories of C S Kipping as Headmaster

Kipping as a man comprised a curious blend of seemingly incompatible and contradictory features. He combined, for example, a love of power and authority with an impish and almost childlike sense of humour. The dignity of tallness, a heavy moustache and bald head was opposed by an almost complete inattention to matters of dress. He wore and insisted on wearing the traditional mortar board and academic gown to heighten the dignity, yet frequently lowered it by rolling the gown behind him into an absurd bustle. The gown itself was a Cambridge MA of a most ancient vintage – as flimsy and graceless as a home-help’s apron[19]. Since Kipping was a bachelor with a good salary, living in a cheaply rented house, matters of this sort could easily have been put right at the expenditure of a few shillings, but this never seemed to occur to him. Likewise his suits, boots[20], shirts and so forth looked decidedly Edwardian in style, and appeared to have done continuous service since that deplorable[21] monarch’s reign.

That he was a man of outstanding intelligence there could be no doubt. A double first at Cambridge, the composition of more than 7000 chess problems, and an aptitude for abstruse mathematical problems demonstrates this most surely. Yet to compose a satisfactory timetable for eight forms with few (if any) options appeared to be completely beyond him.[22] Moreover his interest in, and knowledge of music, literature and the other arts appeared to be minimal.

Kipping, like other members of his family, was keen on outdoor games – particularly tennis. Indeed he played regularly for the staff in tennis matches with the senior boys up to 1931. As in many grammar schools outdoor team games – “soccer” and cricket – were compulsory and play was extended to about 40 minutes after the official end of the school day. The writer never saw Kipping play either of those games but he was a regular spectator at school matches and emphasised constantly the importance of “sportsmanship” when playing other schools. He also deemed it desirable that not only should these games be played but that school matches and house matches should be observed. To that end he devised a scheme whereby he ensured an audience on half holidays (Wednesday and Saturday afternoons) by arranging for a duty prefect to take down the names of boys attending as spectators. two points were awarded for a school match and one for a house match, and a boy was required to obtain a total of 20 points in any one term to avoid whatever penalties Kipping might think fit to exact. In this way a satisfactory number of uninterested and often (in the winter months) half-frozen little boys were pressed into the duty of standing on the touchlines, occasionally interrupting their feast of boredom with a spell of correctly directed but insincere shouts of encouragement to their own side. Such shouts were normally arranged to coincide with the appearance of the Headmaster himself.

Since the writer has recorded the facts as accurately as possible he may perhaps be excused the personal comment[23] that although an unwilling participant in all these pseudo-activities he has consistently held the view that compulsory outdoor games have no educational value whatsoever and is inclined to agree with Bernard Shaw when he writes: “Outside the criminal law I can imagine nothing more cruel and mischievous than to force a boy who has the tastes of a naturalist, poet, painter, musician or mathematician to slave at cricket when he should be roaming, or sketching in the country, or reading, or playing an instrument, or listening to the wireless orchestra.”

In my first year at Wednesbury High School (1931) we occupied a room on the ground floor of the old house immediately adjacent to the Headmaster’s study. The door had two small glass windows at the top through which CSK would occasionally peep to satisfy himself that all was well. First period in the morning on each day was Mathematics which was “taught” by Mr William Gower Roberts, a somewhat irascible Welsh gentleman whose real subject was Latin, and who constantly urged on us the fact (which in any case was fairly obvious) that he knew little about Mathematics, which was not his subject. Among many strongly held views ‘Gower’ (as he was affectionately called) had a particular distaste for CSK. This feeling appeared to be mutual since CSK’s appearances at the little door windows were usual more prolonged and penetrating when WGR was in residence. To what lengths this personal animosity went has not been recorded, but Mr Roberts left at the end of our first year and was never seen again.[24]

Our form was separated from a parallel first form by a heavy wooden partition. This was opened with much heaving and clattering one period each week when the Headmaster would take us. A desk was moved to the intersection and there, seated on a high chair, CSK would preside. I cannot remember what title was bestowed on this lesson on the timetable, but the educational menu was rambling and variable. We were, I am sure, introduced to the rudiments of chess, but there was much more besides. The field of Mathematics was entered somewhat circuitously. There was some dimly comprehended discourse on the theory of numbers, and I remember particularly the Headmaster showing us how to prove that 2=1. The proof, it may be remembered goes as follows:

Let a= b = 1

Then a2 – b2 = a2 – ab

Factorising: (a+b)(a-b) = a(a-b)

Cancelling out (a-b) from each side:

Then a + b = a

Therefore 2 = 1. [25]

We were then asked wherein the fallacy lay. Since none of us could see the wood for the trees CSK, would enquire first whether we were all “sleeping peacibly in our little beds” and then eventually announce triumphantly that since a=b, a-b=0, and you cannot divide by 0. “You must see the point of algebra”, he would utter. “I don’t want anyone to say I can do it in x’s and y’s, but not in a’s and b’s”.

From Mathematics (of a sort) CSK would wander to verse, and introduced us to the Ruthless Rhyme which was exemplified by: