Every now and then I give an assembly on some aspect of the history of the school. Last week has prompted this one, as I was lucky enough to attend a rather remarkable dinner. Friday 29 October – last Friday – was exactly 130 years to the day since the Old Bedfordian Club held its first ever dinner; and the OB Council, joined by Mr Maltby and me, met in the very same room in the Swan Hotel, to remember that moment over a dinner of our own. It bears an interesting history for two or three reasons.
Firstly, the setting up of the OB Club had been proposed at a meeting in Bedford in December of the previous year, a month which recorded temperatures of minus 17.8 degrees Celsius – something which I am perfectly sure none of us have ever got near to in our lives in Bedford.
Secondly, the attendees at the dinner included two OBs with rather amazing connections: Arthur Turing, who was the uncle of Alan Turing, the father of modern computing, and George Branson, who was the grandfather of the future billionaire entrepreneur, Sir Richard Branson. They ate for dinner, amongst other things, mock turtle soup, tongue, pheasant and trifle and washed it all down with Moet – not at all like we did, in fact, last week.
Lastly, this took place at the end of one of the most amazing days in Bedford’s history, when the entire school, dressed in full school uniform, marched in procession through the middle of the town from its old site in St Paul’s Square, to the new site where it resides today. The school was under its most famous Head Master, James Surtees Phillpotts, who had joined the school in 1874 when there were only 270 pupils in the whole school; by 1891, when the move finally took place, there were over 800 – and the school looked, for the first time ever, far more what it looks like today. He had been planning the move for almost 10 years. It took two years to build (after the local MP laid with this very hammer the foundation stone, which you can see today on the Inky pitch side of the school) and finally, when the great day came, there was much rejoicing and a day’s extra holiday announced. It was not without amusement – one of the reports said of the school procession through the town that “the remarks of the populace were not of very complimentary nature, but highly witty in the opinion of the perpetrators and their friends”. You can probably imagine what it was like!
One moment at last week’s commemorative dinner brought to bear how brilliant those men were 130 years ago to think of forming an OB Club. I sat next to a man called Anthony Ormerod, a very fine golfer, who played in the Halford Hewitt team for Bedford in his day, and next to him sat Budge Rogers, who was a good enough rugby player to have captained England and played for the British Lions; indeed, he was the first ever person to be honoured by the Queen with an OBE for services to rugby. About halfway through dinner, they remarked quite casually that they used to sit next to each other at school, in the Inky, back in 1949; and here they were, 72 years later, sitting together still, sharing a meal and chatting about the old days. It was a magical moment for me; and I hope, maybe, that it is for you, too, one day. And if you can’t think of anything worse, then you really never can tell. On my right was OB Martin Snaith, Emeritus Professor of Highway Engineering at Birmingham University. He has often said that he did not enjoy his schooldays when he was here at Bedford (not everyone does); but he has found such good OB friendships in recent years that he was delighted to accept the Presidency of the OB Club this year. So what a great and interesting club it is; one that you will all be part of one day; and one that I hope you get something from when the moment comes, whether it be soon or, indeed, in 72 years’ time.