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From Record Book of Work Done 1830-33 (University of Toronto Archives) 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2012 


H.R.H. The Prince Philip, K.G.,K.T., Duke of Edinburgh 



Upper Canada College 




All rights reserved. The use of any part of this 
publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by 

any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, 

recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, 

without prior consent of the publisher is an infringement 

of copyright law. 

Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data 

Howard, Richard B., date 

Upper Canada College, 1829-1979 

Bibliography: p. 

Includes index. 

ISBN 0-7705-1843-5 (deluxe ed.) 
ISBN 0-7705-1844-3 (trade ed.) 

1 . Upper Canada College - History. I. Title. 

LE5.T6H68 373.2'22'097i354i C79-094709-9 

The author and publisher have made every effort to assign proper 

credit for photographs used in this book. Information will be 

welcomed which will enable the publishers to rectify any reference 

or credit in future printings. 

Printed in Canada for 

The Macmillan Company of Canada Limited, 

70 Bond Street, Toronto 

M5B 1x3 


Table of Contents 

Foreword: HRH The Duke of Edinburgh ix 

Preface xi 

Acknowledgements xiii 

Introduction xv 


i. Setting (1791-1828) 1 

2. Beginnings (1828-1838) 6 

3. School Life under Harris (1 829-1 838) 30 

4. Growing Pains (1838- 1 861) 41 

5. School Life in the Forties and Fifties 71 

6. Maturity (186 1 -1 88 1) 84 

7. School Life under Cockburn (1 861- 1 881) 97 

8. Metamorphosis (1 881- 1900) 106 
9. School Life in the Eighties and Nineties 135 


1 0. Independence ( 1 900- 1 9 1 7 ) 1 63 
11. School Life under Auden (1900-1917) 176 

12. Rejuvenation (1918-1935) 191 

13. School Life under Grant (19 18- 1935) 210 

14. Unsettled Years (1935-1948) 222 

15. School Life in the Late Thirties and Forties 235 

16. Emergency (1949-1965) 242 

17. School Life under Sowby (1949- 1965) 250 

18. The Recent Past 260 


19. The College Times 269 

20. Games 314 

21. Cadets 331 
22. The Prep 352 

23. Norval 371 

24. Epilogue 383 


One: The College Motto and Crest 393 

Two: Governors 396 

Three: Principals 398 

Four: Headmasters 399 

Five: Quarter-Century Club 400 

Six: Head Boys 402 

Seven: Editors of The College Times 405 

Eight: J. Herbert Mason Medal Winners 407 

Nine: Commanding Officers of the Cadets 412 

Ten: Head Stewards 414 

Eleven: Head Prefects' Trophy Winners 415 

Selected Bibliography 4 1 7 
Notes 426 
Index 455 



and continuation of a civilized and humane society. To be able to 
look back on 150 years of providing the highest standards of educa- 
tion is a very proud record and I know that all the admirers of Upper 
Canada College are delighted that the anniversary is being recognized 
by the publication of the history of the College in Colborne's Legacy. 
There could be no more knowledgeable and sympathetic author than 
Richard Howard, who experienced eleven years as a boy at Upper 
Canada College and thirty-six years on the staff. 

Arguments about the form and structure of education will never 
cease, but there will always be a significant proportion of any free soci- 
ety which believes that the brightest young people should have the 
opportunity to benefit from the best possible education. The somewhat 
chequered career of Upper Canada College recorded in this book 
reflects the intensity of the debate about education in Ontario over the 
last 150 years, but the remarkable feature of the College is that no mat- 
ter what the political, financial, or administrative difficulties, the aca- 
demic, moral, and sporting standards were never allowed to fall below 
the very best. 

The celebration of the 150th Anniversary is a tribute to all those 
who have kept the College going in good times and bad; but schools 
exist for the future. Fashions and attitudes may change, but so long as 
the Upper Canada College boy of the future fits roughly into the 
description given by John Ross Robertson in the nineteenth century, all 
will very definitely be well. 



To paraphrase the quotation in Chapter Three, I hope the boy of 
the future will also be "a sort of medium boy, an average all round 
youth, one who could converse with a computer with one eye open, 
translate at sight the best of French literature into decent English, ren- 
der political issues in everyday speech (and perhaps use Anglo-Saxon 
too freely in so doing), see clear through a mathematical problem, and, 
after thus performing his duties to himself and parents, swing a cricket 
bat, run a foot race, jump a hurdle, swim across the bay, enjoy a pillow 
fight, and then declare that if he were a member of Parliament he 
would pass an act to hang old Morgan who provisioned the boarding 
house with steak that was an infringement upon an india-rubber 
patent " 


7^his BOOK is written as part of the 150th Jubilee of Upper Canada 
College. Its shortcomings are a result of both the author's inadequa- 
cies and the magnitude of information available on UCC, especially 
during the nineteenth century when it was surely one of the most con- 
troversial topics on the political and educational scene of Ontario. Re- 
ports and correspondence, debates and legislation about the College 
abound in the Public Archives of Canada, the Ontario Archives, the 
Baldwin Room at the Toronto Public Library, the University of To- 
ronto Archives, the Legislative Library, the Robarts Library and the 
College records themselves, to say nothing of the hearts and minds of 
ex-students. The problem was what to leave out. 

The story divides naturally into two parts: from 1829 to l 9 00 when 
UCC was a government school, and from 1900 to the present, its inde- 
pendent phase. Following a suggestion by Professor G. M. Craig, many 
chapters were paired: one chapter on the administrative problems, the 
second on life in the school. Some areas of College life take on a special 
vitality of their own, and rather than intersperse them with other 
material, they are given separate sections at the end. 

Four areas of UCC life have been very sparingly treated, largely for 
reasons of time and space. They are the College's contribution to the 
two world wars, university honours, famous Old Boys, and games, espe- 
cially first-team statistics and details. It is hoped that too much disap- 
pointment will not be felt at these omissions. The Old Boys at war 
deserve a much deeper and more lasting tribute than could be fitted 
into these pages. The university honours have not been seriously dealt 



with for several reasons. The enormous number is an obvious one. The 
state of competition is another reason: in its early years UCC had a vir- 
tual monopoly of university honours; there was no other institution pro- 
ducing students for what we would call post-secondary education. By 
contrast, at the present time there are so many Ontario Scholarships it 
is almost impossible to make any kind of judgment of the standards 
required to win one. All that needs to be said is that the College has 
striven for a high standard of academic attainment and has an honour- 
able record. In regard to Old Boys in after-school life, over 15,000 stu- 
dents have left the College, a large number of whom have become rich 
or famous (or infamous) or successful or all three. The educational mer- 
its of UCC and the subsequent careers of its graduates have never been 
proved to be causally connected. Moreover, education cannot be mea- 
sured accurately in terms of product. It is really a process of moving 
from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty. The subject, there- 
fore, calls for an entire volume on its own as do the voluminous sports 
records. To repeat: what do you omit? 

Source notes created a dilemma. To omit them altogether in a book 
based totally on researched material would be wrong. To footnote 
everything in the manner of a doctoral thesis would make the text unat- 
tractive to the average reader. It is hoped that the compromise achieved 
is satisfactory not only to such a reader but also to the academic com- 
munity, the members of which are not the book's primary audience. 



A volume SUCH AS THIS is inevitably a team effort. Although the 
author may be the captain, he had better listen carefully to the 
crew's advice or the ship is headed for the rocks. Carrying the 
analogy a little further, as the ship nears port, the captain must prepare 
a vote of thanks to the crew. He looks for some way to steer between the 
Scylla of the Hollywood Oscar variety and the Charybdis of saying 
nothing, thereby claiming all the credit for the trip. On the whole I 
prefer Scylla, even with six heads and twelve feet. 

The largest debt is owed to the Canadian historians and academics 
who shared their time, their wisdom, and themselves without stint: 
J. H. Biggar; Alf Chaiton, whose special interest is W. L. Grant; Terry 
Cook, an expert on George Parkin; Gerald M. Craig, who is writing the 
first half of the history of the University of Toronto; Robert Gidney, 
whose insight into Ontario's educational history is profound; Robin 
Harris, the co-author of the University of Toronto's history; William 
Kilbourn; Gerald Killan; Bruce Litteljohn; and above all George 

Too much credit cannot be given to archivists across Ontario and in 
Lennoxville who went out of their way to help this project, especially 
Robert Taylor- Vaisey of the University of Toronto, who developed an 
exceptional curiosity about Upper Canada College, and William Coo- 
per of the Ontario Archives. The research of David Keane and Aurelia 
Shaw, Gerald Ranking, Sandra Ryder, and Pamela Tate helped me 
immeasurably, as did the concern of Wallis King, Robert Pepall, and 
H. A. Roberts. Michael Carver and Timothy Ryder supplied photo- 



graphic expertise. The enthusiastic and accurate typing of Carole Col- 
lier, Mary Foley, Christine Garment, and Carole Laidlaw was supple- 
mented by Isobel Smith's endless photocopying: all of this was indis- 
pensable. The deep personal interest and cheerful support of Robert 
Kilpatrick and the kindly but judicious blue pencils of Sydney Wooll- 
combe and Patricia Kennedy kept the ship on course, and for the 
design I am indebted to the talent of Richard Miller. To Robert and 
Nancy Elgie I owe a particular word of gratitude for the use of their 
Eastbourne Shangri-la. Many thanks to Michael Turner, a special mes- 
senger of utmost dependability through rain and shine, and to Joseph 
Vankay, whose Christmas pencil wrote the whole thing. 

Many members of the College community wrote to me or allowed 
themselves to be interviewed; I am much in their debt. 

Finally a salute to my colleagues, who allowed me to get on with it. 




Canadian standards, ancient school. Over the space of fifteen decades 
it has lurched unsteadily from crisis to crisis, on several occasions 
coming close to its end. Its survival is owed to several factors, which will 
emerge as the history unfolds. Some facts about the College should be 

It was conceived by, and saw the light of day through, the imagina- 
tion and determination of a single man: Major-General Sir John Col- 
borne. It was not at its inception, nor has it ever been, intended as an 
exclusive, rich man's school; for decades its fees were relatively modest. 
It has never had any official religious affiliation. From its opening in 
January 1830 until November 1900 it was anything but an independent 
or private school: it was a provincial grammar school, an anomaly in 
the system, to be sure, but nevertheless heavily dependent on govern- 
ment funds. Until it attained its freedom in 1900, it never had a charter 
of its own, spending most of its life as an appendage to the University of 
Toronto. During the nineteenth century virtually all the personnel 
appointments were made by the Lieutenant-Governor (or the Governor 
General) on the advice of a committee or council or board. In the late 
eighties and early nineties the Minister of Education virtually ran the 

Today's College is in so many ways different from that first College. 
And yet, under all the stress and strain, two things have remained 
almost untouched: its primary goal and the means of reaching it. The 
goal — high academic attainment and the full development of each boy. 



The means — a faculty of remarkable talent, versatility, eccentricity, 
devotion, and, often, longevity. The goal has been obscured from time 
to time and there have been exceptions among the teachers, but in 
those two elements, ucc 1979 and ucc 1829 bear a singular resem- 



The Anomaly 




F^OR FORTY YEARS before Upper Canada College was founded, edu- 
■" cation was a subject of lively interest among the inhabitants of the 
Province of Upper Canada. As the province filled and the governing 
structures became firmer, the educational system was developed and 
shaped by several conflicting influences. 

The first factor was the dual character of the United Empire Loyal- 
ists who began settling in what is now Ontario in the 1780s. On the one 
hand, they had fled from a New World society that had strongly condi- 
tioned them to democratic principles; on the other hand, they were 
deeply loyal to the Crown and other British institutions. Some of them 
were used to life in the Thirteen Colonies, where there were grammar 
schools, colleges, and universities; they arrived in a province which had 
none. (The first school was started in Kingston in 1786.) In the 1790s 
the chief source of immigrants continued to be the United States, and 
many of the early teachers in Upper Canada were American. Thus, 
American republicanism vied with Lieutenant-Governor Simcoe's con- 
cept of an ideal British colony. 

A second influence was Governor Simcoe's personal view of the role 
of education. At the same time as he was encouraging settlement from 
across the American border, he was corresponding with the British gov- 
ernment about the kind of education that seemed most important to 
him — "the education of the superior classes." 1 He believed that educa- 
tion for the "lower" orders did not matter much. Schools for the higher 
class, being more expensive and more urgent, needed help from Britain. 
If such help did not come, children would go to school in the United 


States — a thing to be avoided at all costs. Simcoe's beliefs stemmed from 
his own background — Eton, Oxford, Church of England, Tory — and 
had a powerful influence on Ontario educational history. His concern 
was the education of the country's leaders; this was to be accomplished 
through grammar schools stressing the classics, and a university. In 
those days before a public school system evolved, the question Why 
have schools at all? would have been answered thus: to produce a civi- 
lized and competent elite equipped to preserve and extend Christian 
civilization in the New World; to preserve and extend British political 
institutions as a bulwark against American republicanism and democ- 
racy; and to promote the aims of the churches. This desire for a classical 
education for the few was contrasted with the frontier philosophy of 
pragmatism: practical solutions to everyday problems. The debate 
about these opposing purposes of education is still alive today. 

Simcoe did not succeed in persuading the British government to 
finance a system to educate leaders for the colony. It was not until 1798, 
after he had left Upper Canada, that a large land endowment was set 
aside for the establishment of free grammar schools in each district of 
the province and then, in the process of time, "other seminaries of a 
larger and more comprehensive nature" 2 — generally interpreted to 
mean a university. In fact, the sum of money required to build all these 
institutions would have far exceeded the funds to be realized from the 
land grant; at that time the grant yielded barely enough to cover the 
cost of a single grammar school. (People were not going to buy or lease 
the educational land when they could obtain other land virtually for 
the asking.) 

By 1807 grammar schools were set up in the eight districts of the 
province; the teacher received £100 annually, and the students paid 
fees. These schools were, except in York, mainly boarding-schools for 
the well-to-do, usually staffed by Anglican clergymen and in the classi- 
cal tradition. They were important because the colony needed educated 
leaders; there was no university and the common schools were in a 
wretched state. Their weaknesses were their cost and their location: 
they were limited to those who lived reasonably close or could afford to 
board. York itself contained the Home District Grammar School, also 


known as the Royal Grammar School. (In order to have one especially 
good school in each province, the British government had created two 
Royal Grammar Schools which offered £200 salary per year, in addi- 
tion to the normal £100. The Upper Canada school had been in King- 
ston, but Lieutenant-Governor Maitland had moved it to York by 
1825.) To supplement the grammar schools, private schools were 
started in many parts of the province — Kingston, Niagara, Napanee, 
Port Hope, Belleville — a few of which were excellent, many of which 
were grim. By 1816 there were about two hundred of these of different 
sizes, both day and boarding. 

Yet another strong influence on education in the young colony was 
religion. The Church of England, to which belonged the lieutenant- 
governors and most members of the executive legislative councils, sup- 
ported the concept of an educational system dominated by the state and 
the established church; that is, their church. Almost no one questioned 
religious domination of education, but many questioned domination by 
the Anglicans, who not only were not "established" but were not even 
in the majority. The most powerful opponents were the Methodists, 
who had considerable rural support and many of whose clergy were 

Finally, in government, there was seldom agreement between the 
executive and the legislature on matters concerning education. An 
Anglican, Tory oligarchy, misnamed the Family Compact, had a stran- 
glehold on the executive branch of government; moreover, the execu- 
tive was not responsible to, and in the fact had a veto power over, the 
House of Assembly, where a variety of opinions were represented. The 
Family Compact consisted of a dozen or so well-to-do families who were 
tied together, not by blood or economic ties, but by a common ideology. 
The basis of their power was political, and they dominated the affairs of 
the Province of Upper Canada throughout the early eighteen-hun- 

The most powerful man in Upper Canada at this time was John 
Strachan. He was a Scotsman, the most brilliant teacher of his time in 
the colony. He had run a grammar school in Cornwall for some years 
before he came to York in 181 2 to take over the Home District Gram- 


mar School. Many of the Family Compact were former pupils of 
his — John Beverley Robinson, Peter Robinson, James Macaulay, the 
Boultons, and others. In addition to his educational expertise, Strachan 
was an archdeacon in the Anglican Church and a member of both the 
executive and legislative councils. 

With all the confusion and uncertainty in education, Strachan was 
the one man who could impose a pattern and conceive of an entire sys- 
tem. He was not concerned simply with the elite: he wanted a univer- 
sity for all denominations, he wanted to strengthen the district 
grammar schools, and he wanted good common schools everywhere. He 
also wanted a central board of education, with himself at the head, to 
run the system. In 1815 he produced a comprehensive report on educa- 
tion; this formed the basis for the Common School Act of 1816, itself the 
foundation of the provincial system for twenty- five years. 

The lieutenant-governor from 1818 to 1828 was Peregrine Mait- 
land, a man whose views coincided with Strachan's. In 1823, on Mait- 
land's recommendation, a Board for the General Superintendence of 
Education was formed. The first president was Strachan; the other five 
members were all Anglicans and closely associated with him. The 
board's job was to sell lands, engage teachers, and supervise the school 
system. The board was never popular because of its Tory, Anglican 
flavour and it lasted for only ten years. 

Soon after the board was formed, Strachan began to give more con- 
sideration to higher education — namely, the university which Simcoe 
had hoped for thirty-five years before. The purposes of such a university 
were clear: to propagate British, Tory principles; to train local clergy- 
men; and to stop the drain of students going to the United States for 
their higher education. Strachan's original plans for this university 
were, for that period, liberal from the religious point of view; in Britain 
they were seen as too liberal. Thus the charter for the University of 
King's College, granted by Britain in March 1827, had Anglican char- 
acteristics which raised howls of protest in the colony. A year later the 
university received almost 226,000 acres of land as an endowment. This 
was the university's legitimate share of the original 1 798 land-grant for 
education, but it did not go down well with those who remembered that 


the grammar schools, not the university, had been the prime target of 
the original grant. A King's College Council, with Strachan as presi- 
dent, was formed to oversee the proposed university. The British Colo- 
nial Office, recognizing the strength of the opposition to the university, 
backed away and threw the problem into the lap of the colonial legisla- 

This, then, was the situation in York and Upper Canada when Gov- 
ernor Maitland was recalled in 1828: in politics, a highly charged 
atmosphere of suspicion and distrust between the executive and the 
legislature; in religion, a small, Tory, Church of England oligarchy 
standing off a more numerous group of heterogeneous Christian denom- 
inations accusing it of a monopoly of wealth and privilege; in educa- 
tion, a somewhat impoverished school system with much unsaleable 
land and a stalled university; overall, a general feeling of loyalty to the 
Crown, plus a mixed envy and fear of a more populous and dynamic 
United States, whose culture, if not armies, might overwhelm the prov- 

Maitland's successor took this legacy and gave to it the special 
flavour of his own experience and character. He found a short-term 
solution to one political problem by creating another longer-term prob- 
lem: Upper Canada College. 




ON THE afternoon of November 4, 1828, Major-General Sir 
John Colborne stepped off the steamboat Canada on to the main 
wharf of the town of York, to be greeted by his retiring predeces- 
sor, Peregrine Maitland. The oaths of office were administered at three 
o'clock. Upper Canada's new lieutenant-governor had arrived. 

Born on February 16, 1798,' Colbourne had attended two of Eng- 
land's greatest public schools, Christ's Hospital and Winchester. He 
had been a mediocre student, who had chiefly distinguished himself 
during one of the frequent uprisings at Winchester by hurling stones 
down at the masters — the basis, so he said, for his future military career. 
He had joined the army at sixteen, campaigned with Sir John Moore in 
Spain, and been a hero at Waterloo. In 182 1 he had become the lieu- 
tenant-governor of Guernsey, where he spent much time and energy 
reviving Elizabeth College. This public school, founded in 1563, had 
fallen into decay under deplorable management, and the enrolment 
had dropped to only sixteen. A local businessman had written to Col- 
borne with ideas for a complete reform of the school. Sir John had 
stepped in, had corrected some of the irregularities, but still had not 
been satisfied. In 1823 he had appointed a committee to inquire into 
such abuses as remained. The committee's sweeping proposals were 
accepted, and the next year the college had opened on a new footing 
with thirty-eight students, the first two of whom had been James and 
Francis Colborne. Elizabeth College, which became the pattern for 
Upper Canada College, still flourishes, with a student body of almost 
seven hundred. 


With this experience behind him, Col borne came to Canada: a life- 
long soldier, brilliantly successful, and a man of sterling character; but, 
despite Guernsey, he was not really an educational expert nor an astute 
politician. He found York much as described — dominated by a reac- 
tionary oligarchy, which was in turn dominated by Strachan. 

Unlike his predecessor, however, Colborne was not impressed by the 
Family Compact. He took three or four weeks to settle in and assess the 
situation before sending a message about his educational ideas to the 
King's College Council. This body, chaired by Strachan, had been 
meeting for six months, but had suspended operations pending Col- 
borne's arrival. On December 6, 1829, Sir John declared to them his 
intention of altering the Royal Grammar School in York to make it 
"accessible to all" 2 and to prepare students for King's College when 
that institution should come into existence. In his view improvement in 
the grammar-school situation was the most important item on the edu- 
cational agenda. 

Three weeks later he abruptly and rather brutally suspended the 
university charter, dumbfounding the members present. Although he 
had instructions 3 from London which encouraged such a move, Col- 
borne refused to let his advisers see them. From this point on, his course 
of action was independent both of his superiors in Whitehall, who were 
exasperated by him, and of his councillors in York, who were baffled. It 
followed the direction Simcoe had indicated forty years before in its 
devotion to the need for the education of the superior classes. 

Having delivered his bombshell, Colborne returned to the theme in 
his speech from the throne, January 8, 1829. He planned to reform the 
Royal Grammar School and incorporate it with the university, the one 
preparing students for the other. He mentioned wishing to attract able 
masters to this country, evidently assuming, without much time to 
gather evidence on the subject, that there was a shortage of them in the 
province. The House of Assembly warmly approved of this scheme and 
appointed a select committee to look into education generally, to sug- 
gest changes, and to report on the practicability of putting Colborne's 
idea into operation. The Legislative Council also approved the plan, 


though more coolly, asking Sir John for his instructions, which he 
refused to reveal. 

Golborne hammered away at the same tune all through January, to 
both the House of Assembly and the Legislative Council. He also sug- 
gested that the university charter should be amended to connect the 
Royal Grammar School with King's College in such a way that the 
school's chief support might depend on the funds of the King's College 
endowment. It is clear that during this legislative session Colborne was 
solving in his own unique way the educational dilemma in which the 
colony found itself. The two legislative houses could not agree about the 
university, and the British government refused to make a decision. By 
suspending the university charter, Colborne pleased the House of 
Assembly, who jumped at his solution. He also threw a bone to the Leg- 
islative Council by offering a superior school that resembled the univer- 
sity they were losing. In other words, his new school was to be a classic 
political compromise. 

Towards the end of the sitting, the House of Assembly reported to 
Colborne their further thoughts on the reformed grammar school: it 
should be free from sectarian influence; it should not be incorporated 
with the university; and it should be called "Colborne College." 4 The 
most able masters should be hired; the fees should be low; and King's 
College funds should be used. They hoped it would be economical and 
would start soon, but they questioned whether York was the best place 
for it. Only some of their wishes were granted. 

The Legislative Council, on the other hand, recommended not 
interfering with the King's College endowment. 

Having laid the foundations for his new school in York, Colborne 
moved swiftly to secure his position in England. On March 31, 1829, he 
wrote two letters, one to R. W. Hay, permanent under-secretary for the 
colonies, the other to Dr. Jones, vice-chancellor of Oxford. In these two 
letters, Upper Canada College was actually conceived — the name is 
mentioned for the first time. Nine months and four days later it was 

The letter to Hay went over familiar ground: Colborne's disagree- 
ment with Strachan and his group about the university; the lack of a 



school to prepare boys for it; his faith in an excellent school attracting 
boys from every part of the province; his distrust of American educa- 
tion; his desire to fit students for the professions. Getting down to spec- 
ifics, he had three main concerns. First of all, he was convinced that he 
must import good masters from England. Second, he had decided to sell 
at least one of the nine townships (549,000 acres) that were set apart for 
the endowment of schools, for the support of "the Upper Canada 
College." 5 Third, he had worked out in rough detail the financial 
arrangements. The principal would get the enormous 6 sum of £600 per 
annum, a house, and the right to take boarders. He would take the 
principal of the Royal Grammar School and make him vice-principal. 
He decided on £8 as an annual fee, and coolly suggested an annual gov- 
ernment grant of £1,000 from the land sales of the Canada Company. 

His letter to Jones specified his ideas about the masters. He wanted 
from England, besides a principal, three classical masters and a mathe- 
matical master to fill out his faculty of ten, which included two French 
masters, two writing masters, and a drawing master. This was an 
absurdly extravagant arrangement not only in numbers but in salaries: 
the junior classical men and the mathematician were to have £300 per 
annum each, a house, and boarders. Colborne also caused £1,500 to be 
sent to England to cover expenses for the masters, whose salaries began 
on embarkation. His letter to Dr. Jones, the first official record we have 
that Colborne's intentions had crystallized, was tabled by John 
Strachan before a meeting of the Board for the General Superinten- 
dence of Education on April 4, 1829. 

How was this new school going to be paid for? Colborne reckoned 
the annual salary expense to be £2,500 — a prodigious amount for one 
grammar school. Revenue was to come from a variety of sources: one 
hundred pupils at £8 each; the government grant of £100 for one 
teacher plus £200 for the principal of the Royal Grammar School; the 
sale or lease of the grammar-school ground, which he thought should 
yield £400; the sale of Seymour Township — £500; and the imperial 
grant of £1,000. This would give a surplus (soon proved illusory) of 
£550. The Royal Grammar School, or Old Blue School as it was known, 
stood in College Square, six acres of ground bounded by Church, Ade- 


laide, Jarvis, and Richmond streets. The Executive Council began con- 
sidering the division of this area into lots to be sold to create a fund to 
help pay for the new buildings, reckoned to cost £5,000. 

There was much chatter in the town about the new school. York at 
the time had a population of about twenty-three hundred, and the pro- 
spects of a luxurious alternative to the suspended university must have 
been puzzling. In a percipient moment Robert Stanton, the King's 
Printer, saw UCC as in fact a rival of King's College, though it was not 
intended to be anything but a preparatory school for it. George Mark- 
land, a crony of Strachan's and a member of three councils — executive, 
legislative, and King's — was critical of the new development because he 
thought few people could afford to send several sons to both a prepara- 
tory school and a university. He felt that the provincial grammar 
schools would have made better preparatory schools. 

The Board of Education wanted the site for the proposed extrava- 
gance to be on Peter Street at the end of King, but Colborne wanted it 
in the more convenient Russell Square, bounded by King, Simcoe, Ade- 
laide, and John streets. Colborne got his way, and in May tenders were 
called for buildings on the Russell Square site. 

When the first tenders were too high, the completion date was 
extended to August I, 1830, and the whole exercise had to be done 
again. Finally, the contract was awarded to Matthew Priestman for 
£5,268. J. G. Chewett, who had designed the legislative buildings and 
had been an old pupil of Strachan's, was the architect. 

Since the completion date was now well on in 1830, and Colborne 
was anxious to start the school immediately, temporary quarters were 
needed. The Old Blue School 7 was shifted to a 70' by 120' plot at the 
south-west corner of Jarvis and Lombard (then a street of ill-repute) in 
early August, for the sum of £64. The building was repaired and fitted 
up with a separate room for each master, an unheard of procedure in 
an Ontario school. 

Towards the end of 1829 Colborne continued to write to Murray 
and Hay in England converting them to the cause: the Royal Gram- 
mar School at York was bad and needed to be reformed; a superior 
school was required; the province was wealthy enough to support it; 



Upper Canada College graduates would counteract the democratic 
influences entering the province; and so on. This sort of propaganda 
was doubtless necessary, since it was becoming increasingly obvious that 
the College was to be an expensive operation from all points of view. 
Murray wrote to Colborne in September expressing considerable exas- 
peration and concern. He conceded the wisdom of Colborne's decisions 
regarding King's and the superior grammar school. At the same time, 
however, he regretted Colborne's actions in engaging masters and 
incurring other expenses without consulting him first. There was virtu- 
ally no Canada Company money, and therefore no grant from the terri- 
torial revenue. Colborne was asked not to spend any more money until 
further notice. 

It was, of course, too late to turn back, or even to cut back very 
much. Colborne's friends in England had been busy engaging masters 
while he was getting on with arrangements in York. William Boulton of 
Queen's College, Oxford, had been appointed a classical master in July 
and advanced £100. On September 29 the French master, J. du P. De 
la Haye, was the first to arrive in York, eager to see his new house, 
which his agent had told him would be free of all expense. George 
Anthony Barber, the English master from the Royal Grammar School, 
was appointed Receiver of the College Dues, of which he could keep 3 
per cent plus £25 cash instead of a house. By year's end, advances to 
masters totalled well over the £1,500 set aside. 

An annoucement for the January opening of the College appeared 
in the Canada Gazette of December 17, 1829. The course of instruction 
included classics, mathematics, English composition and history, writ- 
ing and arithmetic, geography and French. Only drawing was optional. 
It was made clear that those who completed the course would be pre- 
pared for university, while those who did not would be qualified for 

The government of this extraordinary project was vested in a board 
of managers designated the "President, Directors, and Trustees" 8 of 
Upper Canada College; in reality the group turned out to be the Board 
for the General Superintendence of Education, whose president was 



John Strachan. There was no other group to which supervision could be 

The key to the College's survival lay in the men sent for by 
Colborne — the "cargo of masters" 9 and their successors down through 
the years. The most important element in any school system is the peo- 
ple in the classroom; success or failure lies in their qualities. It seems 
that Colborne made no effort to find teachers close at hand; perhaps, 
given the generally low status of the profession in Upper Canada, good 
men would have been hard to find. In any event, the group of Cantab- 
rian masters collected in York by November 1829 must have presented 
a startling picture to the small and isolated settlement. The first princi- 
pal, the Reverend Joseph H. Harris, DD, age twenty-nine, had distin- 
guished himself as a Fellow of Clare Hall and was much at ease in the 
classics. The vice-principal, the Reverend Dr. Thomas Phillips of 
Queen's College, Cambridge, was a student of the Latin poet Horace 
and had been principal of the Royal Grammar School, where his stu- 
dents used the same grammar and textbooks as at Eton. The Reverend 
Charles Mathews of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, was a brilliant classi- 
cal scholar, proficient in Hebrew, and well known to Lord Byron and 
Wordsworth. He was fond of inventing epigrams such as, "People 
should map their minds as well as mind their maps." 10 The Reverend 
William Boulton, son of Mr. Justice Boulton of York, was second classi- 
cal master. The Reverend Charles Dade of St. John's and a fellow of 
Caius, Cambridge, had earned a first-class degree in the Mathematical 
Tripos and was also a fine classicist. Mr. De la Haye, an experienced 
French teacher from St. Malo who had taught in England, was known 
mainly for his poor discipline and enormous stock of canes. Mr. George 
Anthony Barber, a teacher of English, writing, and arithmetic at the 
District Grammar School since 1825, became famous to the cricketing 
fraternity as the father of Canadian cricket. Little is said of Mr. Drew- 
ry, who painted around Niagara Falls and the White Mountains, or of 
Mr. (later Reverend) J. W. Padfield. From this base of talent there 
developed a striking, long-lived homogeneity in the core personnel of 
Upper Canada College — English, Anglican, classical, and clerical, with 
a distinct leaning to Cambridge." Boulton, the only Oxford man, prob- 



ably was hired because of local connections. Colborne's British commit- 
tee, all like-minded to him, chose masters who were not in fact experi- 
enced teachers, but who probably became good ones. In all the furor 
surrounding the College's founding, funding, and administration over 
the next sixty years, there was relatively little criticism of the actual 

Thus, Upper Canada College was conceived and brought to life, not 
by committee, not by a consensus of the best and brightest, but spring- 
ing like Athene out of the head of one decisive, strong-willed, arrogant 
man, who was not very knowledgeable about either education or the 
environment in which he was operating, and in opposition to the brain- 
child of another decisive, headstrong, arrogant man who knew more 
about education and the local scene than anyone else. One wonders 
whether Colborne had not already decided on the College's format 
before he arrived in York. Whether he considered alternatives, we shall 
never know. It would have been unlikely for him to give much thought 
to the sad state of the common schools, but to have put money and 
thought into the province-wide strengthening of the grammar schools 
would have been a statesmanlike act. It seems not to have occured to 
him; perhaps he was hypnotized by his successful Guernsey technique. 
Again, sending to England for masters, when there were probably half a 
dozen fine men in Upper Canada already, was a curious touch. If he 
was in a hurry, local appointments could have saved much time. "We 
cannot expect to succeed except we obtain Masters of reputation from 
England." 12 Was this the insecurity of the new boy looking for support 
from home, or had he done his homework and found the colonies 
wanting? No matter; his decisions about building-site, masters, and 
endowment were his and his alone. Perhaps everything could and 
should have been done differently, but not by Sir John. We see him, 
once again, at Waterloo wheeling the entire 52nd Regiment without 
any orders from his superior officer and breaking the French Imperial 
Guard. We see him rebuilding the ancient edifice of Elizabeth College. 

What Colborne's curious educational creature was, nobody quite 
knew. They did not even know what to call it: The College of Upper 
Canada, Colborne College, Minor College, Upper Canada College and 



Royal Grammar School. It little resembled any English public school. 
It was not private nor was it public, though it received funds from the 
sale of public lands. It had a strong Anglican bias to its teaching staff, 
but it was non-denominational. Altogether it was unique, an exotic tree 
on muddy Canadian soil. 

On January 4, 1830, the Old Blue School was ready for its new 
identity. On that day, fifty-seven boys trudged through the snow to 
meet two old acquaintances — Phillips and Barber — and seven new 
ones. The year before, the Royal Grammar School had also had an 
enrolment of fifty-seven. Whether the two groups were identical, it is 
impossible to say, but it is certain that the College took over most of the 
grammar school's pupils. Two boys lived with De la Haye, five with 
Phillips, one with Padfield, and four lodged in the town. The age 
groupings were promising: twenty-six entered the preparatory school, 
seven went to the first form, nine to the second form, six to the third, 
seven to the fourth, and two to the top form. Throughout January and 
February new pupils dribbled in, so that by the end of the first term' 3 
the total enrolment was eighty-nine, of whom seventy lived at home. 
Half the boys were in the preparatory. 

The roll-call included just about everybody who was anybody in 
York. The first boy enrolled was Henry Scadding, who became head 
boy for four successive years and later returned to teach for a long time. 
Archdeacon Strachan's sons were second and seventh on the roll. John 
Beverley Robinson and his brother were tenth and eleventh. There 
were two Powells and two Sherwoods, two Denisons and three Jarvises, 
four Ridouts and three Richardsons, a Boulton, a Ketchum, and three 
Hewards. Many of these boys reached positions of responsibility and 
influence in the life of the colony when they grew up. It was not Col- 
borne's intention, however, to attract only the sons of the Family Com- 
pact. The fees of £8 for day boys and £25 for boarders were reasonable 
enough that a relatively broad segment of society could attend. Never- 
theless, grammar schools were known as the schools for the well-to-do, 
and Upper Canada College was clearly something over and above an 
ordinary grammar school. The very name "College" gave it almost the 
status of a university; it had a principal, not a headmaster. From the 


day it opened it reflected the image of exclusiveness which it never lost. 
It began to attract critical attention of segments of the community not 
sympathetic to a somewhat aristocratic tradition, and eventually it was 
almost destroyed by jealousy and envy. 

The College from the beginning had high academic standards and, 
before it was two months old, drew admiring glances from as far away 
as New York. The Albion noted the plan of instruction that was similar 
to that at Eton and Westminster, the low fees yet attractive salaries 
which had brought men from Oxford and Cambridge, and "the thor- 
ough grounding in the classical authors" which had produced so many 
English leaders. 14 (As a matter of fact the curriculum was not a far cry 
from that which Strachan had drawn up for the district grammar 
schools many years before.) 

If the curriculum was good, the regulations were strict. In an age 
when truancy was a problem, the College in theory would have none of 
it. Punctuality was strictly required. Sickness and "domestic calam- 
ity"' 5 were the only excuses for absence. Pupils detained at home on 
frivolous pleas for more than two or three periods lost their standing 
and went to the bottom of the form. 

Most new establishments undergo a period when their various ele- 
ments are getting the feel of one another before settling into fixed rela- 
tionships. The year 1830 was such a time for the College. The House of 
Assembly agreed with Colborne that the general educational system 
was poor, but after seeing the names in the opening enrolment, they 
inveighed against the idea that the College would resemble some of the 
exclusive European establishments that had caused so much unhappi- 
ness there. That perennial gad-fly William Lyon Mackenzie wasted no 
time in asking where the money was coming from. Colborne's response 
was honest but scarcely diplomatic. Income at the moment was thin but 
he promised to try to get for UCC an endowment which would "counter- 
act the influence of local jealousies, or of ignorance, or vice to which, in 
a new country, it may ... be exposed."' 6 This message may not have 
endeared Colborne to Mackenzie, but on March 2 the House of Assem- 
bly passed, unanimously, "An Act to establish Upper Canada College." 

John Strachan, having sent two of his sons to the College, observed 



its first few weeks and proposed a series of very flattering resolutions in 
the Legislative Council. He believed UCC was equal if not superior in its 
appointments to any school in the mother country. The Legislative 
Council supported Strachan, and congratulated the College, which, 
they said, deserved that appellation. Because of the great benefits that 
the College bestowed, they agreed unanimously that it should be put on 
a permanent footing. They then turned around and rejected' 7 the 
Assembly's bill on the grounds that it was a university bill — too com- 
prehensive, too complicated. UCC was "deemed" to be a university; the 
bill called for a chancellor, professors, degrees, and so on. It was 
designed as a protest against the King's College charter and, as such, 
was doomed to failure. Upper Canada College received no charter of its 
own; it was officially recognized in the King's College Charter of 1837. 

The masters, too, were shaking down in their new environment. The 
influx of Anglican divines caused a stir among the nearby churches, 
some of which did not have resident clergymen. Mathews, Dade, and 
Boulton were noted taking services without pay in churches as far away 
as Thornhill, not only on Sundays but during long vacations. Dr. Har- 
ris and Boulton wanted some improvement in their houses to the tune of 
£60 to £75. Barber wanted a raise, which was refused. The members of 
the classics department — Phillips, Mathews, and Boulton — questioned 
Colborne about their position vis-a-vis Harris. They had thought they 
were to be his colleagues; he was treating them as assistants or ushers. 
De la Haye and Drewry, for their part, demanded to be seated in pray- 
ers on the same level as the classical masters. 

The financial situation was somewhat precarious, despite Colborne's 
sanguine expectations. He went to great pains to keep in touch with 
Murray in the Colonial Office to convince him that Upper Canada 
College was an absolute necessity, and that though the expenses were 
great, they should be greater yet. Murray concurred with the College's 
foundation, though somewhat grudgingly: at least the university prob- 
lem was temporarily shelved, which was a blessing, and he was happy 
about the non-denominational aspect of the new school.' 8 He insisted, 
however, that the expense should be moderate, especially in buildings. 
Colborne now pressed for more. He had obtained a £200 grant from the 



British government and now hinted that one of the townships set apart 
for the maintenance of schools' 9 might be appropriated as UCC's endow- 
ment. He wanted eight exhibitions of £40 and ten scholarships of £25 
each, all to run for four years and all to be paid for out of the King's 
College endowment. He made it clear to the King's College Council 
that King's College would not be built until he was satisfied that it 
should be; in any case, no pupils would be ready for it for three years. 

Murray agreed to increase the annual grant to £500 and to allow 
the endowment of one township; 20 he refused the request for scholar- 
ships and exhibitions. This land endowment was of enormous conse- 
quence. Though it was of little value in 1830, income from it helped the 
College significantly in the eighteen-sixties and -seventies, and was the 
cause of a province-wide outcry against the College for about twenty 
years. Eventually most of it was taken over by the University of Toron- 

In December 1830 Murray was replaced as colonial secretary by 
Lord Goderich. (Colborne had to deal with six colonial secretaries dur- 
ing his seven years in office.) Goderich followed Murray's line: do noth- 
ing about the university; grammar schools must be on a secure footing 
first; the most important was the "Royal Grammar School of Upper 
Canada." 21 He was clearly provoked, however, by Colborne 's lack of 
consultation, by the number of "professors," and by the size of the sala- 
ries. Colborne was told firmly that he was not to increase the expense 
"in the smallest degree" without permission. 22 

While this financial manoeuvring was going on, the new buildings 
for Upper Canada College were slowly — very slowly — taking shape. As 
early as April the building superintendent advised that the College 
would never be finished by September. Priestman was given a little 
extra time to fulfil his contract or lose his job. It was in vain. He seemed 
uninterested in the operation, and there were unconfirmed reports that 
he was "frequently incapable from intoxication." 23 Colborne's aide-de- 
camp, Captain Phillpotts, bustled officiously into the situation, declar- 
ing that in his opinion the buildings should be torn down and started all 
over again. John Ewart, the superintendent, demurred, and the board 
supported Ewart. Priestman was fired and the work was pushed on. 



Debentures and bank stock belonging to the board were sold to raise 
money for the College's further demands. By year's end the building 
costs had risen to approximately £10,000; eventually the cost was reck- 
oned at double that. 

It is not certain exactly when the College abandoned its temporary 
site, but the school year 1831 began at the north-west corner of King 
and Simcoe. 24 William Dendy in Lost Toronto writes: 

Chewett's design provided a two-storey block, with two simpler two- 
storey pavilions ranged symmetrically to the east and west . . . the 
grouping was systematic and hierarchical, for it placed the most 
important element in the College — the block housing the classrooms, 
prayer hall, and offices — at the centre and ranged the buildings of 
lesser importance — the masters' and students' lodgings — on either 

All the UCC buildings were of red brick. Only the main block had 
much architectural pretension, with its large porch supported on stone 
piers and the windows ornamented with flat, ledge-like architraves 
supported on scrolled consoles. . . . The centre block measured 80 feet 
wide and 82 feet deep and contained offices and classrooms opening 
off a central hall on both floors; in the northwest corner of the second 
floor there was a "prayer room", with a dais for the masters and box 
pews for each of the seven forms 

The two blocks on either side of the main building were each dou- 
ble houses for masters and boarding pupils. They were linked by units 
set back from the south front, containing separate entrances and stair- 
ways. The entrances — with plain but elegantly moulded frames form- 
ing transoms and sidelights — faced north into the College's private 
quadrangle, which gave an appropriate air of college seclusion. 

Dr. Henry Scadding, an early chronicler of Toronto life, described 
the inside: 

The internal fittings and finish were of the most solid and unadorned 
character. The benches for the classes were placed around the rooms 
against the wall; they were movable, narrow and constructed of thick 
planks in a very primitive fashion, as also were certain narrow tables. 


Each room was provided with a very large wood box set near the 
capacious fireplace, to hold the huge masses of hard maple, beech, and 
hickory used for fuel; there was also a plain, strong, movable lock-up 
closet for the reception of loose books, maps, and papers. The masters' 
desks were of heavy black walnut, the legs of each fastened by clamps 
to a small platform of its own which might be shifted about with ease 
on the floor. The wainscotting throughout the building was composed 
of stout boards of irregular width hand-planed, and nailed on longitu- 
dinally, all painted of a uniform drab colour. Rough usage was every- 
where challenged, and a rough usage speedily came. Benches, tables, 
and desks soon began to wear a very battered appearance. The wain- 
scotting of the passages and other portions of the building was soon 
disfigured by initials, and sometimes names, carved at full length in 
accordance with a rude custom prevailing aforetime in English public 
schools 25 

As previously noted, a few boys boarded in town, a few lived with 
masters — some of whom charged more than the going rate. As numbers 
increased, so did the need for a separate boarding-house; it was built for 
£1,200 in the summer of 1831. The first boy to enter the new establish- 
ment was Alexander Powell, age unknown, who registered in October 
of that year. A separate boarding-house has remained in existence ever 
since, though boys continued to live with masters until 1857. 

If 1830 was a year of settling in for Upper Canada College, 1831 
was the year of truth, when attacks on the College began in earnest. 
These assaults were based on three aspects of the operation: the Angli- 
can flavour of the school, its classical curriculum, and its immense land 

There is no doubt that ucc was seen as a Church of England insti- 
tution. The masters could be of any denomination, and the curriculum 
was free of sectarianism. Nevertheless, it was impossible to ignore the 
fact that the Visitor 26 (the Lord Bishop of Quebec), the principal, and 
four masters were Church of England clergymen, and the members of 
the governing board were Anglicans, as were the majority of the parents 
and boys. The Methodists, led by the formidable Egerton Ryerson, 
were very aware of this. The Conference of the Methodist Episcopal 



Church, in late August 1830, adopted a resolution to choose a site for a 
seminary of its own which would be for everybody, regardless of denom- 
ination Ryerson, however, did not seek "endowments of public lands 
contrary to the voice of the people." 2 ' Colborne and Ryerson had a 
bitter correspondence at the end of 183 1 which showed how deep the 
religious differences cut. Colborne denounced the Methodist clergy on 
several counts, defended a system of education which had produced the 
leaders of the United Kingdom, and said he would not abandon it to 
suit those "with neither experience nor judgment." 28 Ryerson re- 
sponded in kind, expressing a wide-spread view of the College: ". . . [it 
was] established and placed under the sole direction of the Clergy of the 

one Church " 29 

The curriculum was, of course, classical, and some people thought it 
too limited and exclusive. A petition was presented to Colborne in July 
1 83 1 by Robert Baldwin and eleven other citizens of York requesting a 
more commercial course at cheaper rates. Colborne responded that the 
College could not be all things to all people and that it was impossible 
to lower the rates because the College was so expensive to run. Actually, 
the principal did modify the curriculum somewhat a little later by 
introducing a "partial" course for those not university bound; this 
course included bookkeeping and commercial arithmetic. Despite this 
departure, ucc's academic standard remained high. 

It was the endowment which caused the greatest trouble. Having 
received permission for the equivalent of one township, Colborne's idea 
was for the King's College Council to pay the College's expenses, to sell 
the land and receive the proceeds. Twenty thousand acres of the Col- 
lege's endowment were set aside in trust for King's College until all 
loans should be repaid. As soon as it became known around the prov- 
ince that Upper Canada College was being so royally treated, petitions 
began to come in from other centres such as London and Kingston; 
they too wanted endowments. UCC was no help to them: very few could 
afford "Minor College"; and very few wanted to send their children so 
far away. There was another note of complaint— York was simply get- 
ting too much. Why should two institutions— King's and UCC —both be 



given such special favours just because they were at the seat of 

A memorandum attached to a House of Assembly report dated Feb- 
ruary 23, 1 83 1, tells the story. The claims of eleven district schools had 
been sacrificed to Upper Canada College. The money spent in erecting 
the buildings thought necessary for this "enormous school and the resi- 
dences of its regiment of teachers . . . with lavish salaries" 30 was enough 
to have made all the district schools good enough for the whole prov- 
ince's needs. There was "universal indignation and discontent." A sec- 
ond issue was the change of name. Colborne was accused of saying, 
"Look at me, not the King." A third issue was the suppression of eight 
King's Scholarships which the old Royal Grammar School had had, 
but ucc did not. Upper Canada College was on a scale out of all pro- 
portion to the state of the colony; it spent money intended for all; it was 
an attempt to destroy King's College and reduce the district schools to 
contempt. Other schools should be made just as good. Idle UCC masters 
should be posted to other schools to reduce expense. The memorandum 
ended ominously: unless something was done, difficulties could be 
expected during the next parliamentary session. 

William Lyon Mackenzie's Colonial Advocate had something to say as 
well. Mackenzie had attacked the expenses attached to the Home Dis- 
trict School in 1827. About its successor, he was equally pungent: "The 
college here at York in Upper Canada is most extravagantly endowed 
. . . thousands of pounds are realized at will by its self-constituted man- 
agers from the sale of school lots and school lands [in fact, not true] . . . 
splendid incomes are given to masters . . . and dwellings furnished to the 

professors ... by the sweat of the brow of the Canadian labourer The 

College, already a monopoly, becomes almost an exclusive school. . . . 
The College never was intended for the people " 3I 

Archdeacon Strachan could not make up his mind what to think 
about the new school that had been thrust upon him. His ambition had 
been to see a university founded. It had been aborted and a minor col- 
lege had been substituted. As president of both the Board of Education 
and the King's College Council, he was closely involved with Upper 
Canada College's success or failure. In public, he was diplomatic, not- 



ing the liberal salaries to attract Englishmen, the large endowment nec- 
essary for such an expensive school, the helpfulness of the sale of the 
original site towards the expenses. In private, he was less reserved. His 
younger son, Alexander, was miserable at the unfair treatment in his 
class. If a solution could not be found, Strachan threatened to withdraw 
him. In June the boy was kept home from school because he had been 
beaten over the head, shoulders, and hands, and was badly bruised. 
Strachan's view of UCC's salary scale was straight to the point: they 
were out of all proportion and "to give salaries to a Drawing and a 
French Master is altogether preposterous." 32 He regretted that Col- 
borne had not asked for a separate endowment for the College, because 
Strachan rightly foresaw the difficulties in taking it from the general 
school land grant. He resented the interest shown in UCC, whose name 
led people to think it was a university, a rival to his beloved King's. 
Lastly, he supported the Baldwin view in regard to the classics: UCC 
should offer two departments, leaving it to parents to choose classics or 

In the face of all these criticisms, Colborne came around more and 
more to the view that a union of some kind between the school and the 
university would be desirable, undoubtedly for financial reasons. He 
wanted both to draw funds from the same endowment. He was deter- 
mined that UCC would remain the best and most attractive school in 
both provinces. As long as the masters were good, the best families 
would send their sons to it. By October 1831 he was predicting that sev- 
eral pupils would be ready for university the next year. Despite all the 
propaganda, however, the same response kept coming back from 
Whitehall: economy in all things. 

Colborne's attitude was unrealistic considering the financial and 
social limitations of a pioneer community. In attempting to develop a 
school in York superior to those in the districts, he drew upon UCC a 
good deal of hatred. The school survived, but it was never popular. 

Heavy criticism of UCC continued through 1832, especially from 
William Lyon Mackenzie, who drew up Articles of Impeachment 
against Colborne for his conduct of the College. Strachan also com- 
plained that UCC was encouraged while King's College continued to be 



restrained, although the former owed the latter £i 3,000. 33 The extrava- 
gance surrounding the financial affairs of the College is demonstrated 
by the fact that the teacher-training grant for provincial grammar and 
common schools together was only £4,000. 

In July the Board for the General Superintendence of Education 
was dissolved by Lord Goderich. It met three times more between then 
and March 1833, but the College really had little organized super- 
vision during that period. Late in the year the Select Committee of the 
House of Assembly met again, and conducted an inquiry as to the Col- 
lege's usefulness to the community. It was evident that so much revenue 
pouring into UCC and King's, both in York, was agitating the Assembly. 
The committee suggested incorporating UCC with King's College and 
starting another grammar school in the home district that was not so 
classical; that way parents would have a choice. 

In the late winter of 1833 it became clear that King's College was 
going to take over UCC, whose encroachment on the original royal grant 
was causing increasing bitterness. The College, labelled an institution 
"not at all necessary and never contemplated by the King," 34 was 
greatly in debt to King's. Although the loans were secured on UCC's 
enowment, there was serious doubt that the money would ever be 
repaid. The College endowment yielded nothing. There was no choice 
but that the creditor annex the debtor. Colborne asked Strachan if the 
King's College Council would agree to take over the direction of Upper 
Canada College. Strachan agreed but made the point that UCC was 
subsidiary to King's, and King's must be established as soon as possible. 

Though the College's connection with King's College was a fore- 
gone conclusion considering its finances, the connection caused consid- 
erable confusion. Was the College a university, part of a university, or a 
grammar school? The original royal grant had specified grammar 
schools first, university later. If UCC was a grammar school it had a 
right to part of that grant, but then it should not be spending university 
funds. If it was part of the university, its expenditures were resented 
because the grammar schools were supposed to come first. There was 
some feeling that the College should actually become the university; its 



buildings were big enough, and there would be a great saving of money 
on university buildings. 

Meanwhile, underneath the financial and political turmoil, the 
masters were getting on with their jobs; the comedy and tragedy of 
everyday life continued. According to Boulton's letters, the days were 
long. He was up and dressed by six or seven and read or wrote until 
7:45 prayers. Breakfast was at eight o'clock; then the teaching day ran 
until four. After that, he conducted funerals, baptisms, and marriages 
until dark, or he visited the hospital on half-days. In addition, he was 
chaplain to the armed forces and secretary to a couple of committees. A 
kindly man, Boulton was also concerned about the two bachelors, Dade 
and Mathews. Like most married men, he wanted them married too; 
but failing that he was anxious for them to move in with his family to 
assuage their loneliness. Mrs. Boulton, the realist, wanted them to pay 
handsomely for the privilege. She wrote from England, "remember, 
that £80 a year each (at least) is not too much." 35 

In the spring of 1834 Phillips, the vice-principal, then almost sixty, 
resigned to become rector of Weston. He had been one of the older mas- 
ters, and "wished to spend the rest of his days in comfort." 36 Colborne 
recommended an allowance of £100, which took a long time coming 
because the Colonial Office did not know where to take the money 
from. A year later Phillips still had not received his allowance. He sent 
a pitiful message to Colborne about his loss of income on being induced 
to come to Canada, his nine children, his burst blood vessel, his 
exhausted savings, and his short life expectancy. Phillips may have been 
exaggerating his plight, but he deserved better treatment. He was the 
first of a long line of ucc masters — government servants all — who had 
to beg for retiring allowances, despite excellent, long-term service. At 
almost the same time, Boulton died of pleurisy. As first classical master, 
Mathews applied for the vice-principalship, but the office was discon- 
tinued, not to be filled again for over seventy years. The post had been 
another of Colborne's extravagances. 

There were almost thirty applications for the two vacancies from all 
over Ontario and Quebec, and one even came from Antigua. One 
vacancy was filled by F. W. Barron, who later became principal; the 



second appointment never arrived. A special addition to the staff was 
Thomas Young, Toronto's first city engineer, who later was the archi- 
tect for King's College. 

The year 1835 was Colborne's last full year as lieutenant-governor. 
The battle to justify the College's existence continued to be fought over 
the same trampled ground. In response to Mackenzie's diatribe that 
UCC was "upheld at great public expense with high salaries to its princi- 
pal Masters but the Province . . . derives very little advantage from it. It 
might be dispensed with," 37 Colborne defended his actions. The district 
schools still had their portion of the original grant; the university had 
its share; UCC was certainly "a larger seminary"; there was, he insisted, 
no cause for complaint. In his letters to the Colonial Office he pushed 
hard for a new university charter, upon which he knew the two colonial 
legislative houses would never agree. His comments that the College 
had worked itself into favour and overcome most of its opposition were 
remarkable considering the hostility in the Assembly and the fact that 
Ryerson's Methodist seminary at Cobourg was almost completed. But 
just to be on the safe side, Colborne wanted the College acknowledged 
and thus protected in the university charter. Once this happened, he 
felt its prosperity would be assured. 

Unfortunately Lord Glenelg, the colonial secretary in December 
1835, had been impressed with Mackenzie's account of UCC and took 
issue with Colborne on several points. Glenelg did not go so far as 
Mackenzie in opposing the very existence of the College; he simply 
thought there was some "error of management" 38 which could be reme- 
died to make the College more useful. As a result of this exchange Gle- 
nelg decided to recall Colborne. Almost simultaneously, the latter was 
engaged in resigning; on January 21, 1836, he left Upper Canada. 39 

Given his background, character, and personality, Colborne's man- 
ner of founding Upper Canada College is understandable. It meant, 
however, that he left a two-sided legacy behind him. On the one hand, 
the boys were well taught, and the loyalty of many of its graduates was 
life-long. As well, many graduates did what Colborne had expected: 
they became leaders in the provincial and national community. On the 
other hand, because the College was so much his own personal vision 



and because he did not take advice easily, it contained elements which 
almost destroyed it. By not asking for a separate endowment, which he 
might well have got, he embroiled the College in over fifty years of con- 
troversy with the university and the grammar schools, both of which 
firmly believed UCC had taken what rightly belonged to them. By mak- 
ing the College so outrageously large and expensive, and by placing it 
in York, he put it into debt for years and made it the object of envy and 
hatred on the part of other schools all over the province. By importing 
masters from England, he exhibited a disdain for local teachers which 
was a characteristic of the College for many decades. Finally, by allow- 
ing such an overwhelming proportion of the masters to be Anglican 
clergymen, he tarred the College with a sectarian brush, negating his 
farsightedness in making the College non-denominational. 

Egerton Ryerson's Upper Canada Academy was to open on June I , 
1836, and Ryerson petitioned Lord Glenelg for financial assistance, cit- 
ing the generous way UCC had been treated. He assessed UCC as princi- 
pally for the children of persons connected with the government and of 
the highest class of gentry; it conferred no particular benefit on the 
common class, although he conceded it was of great advantage to the 
province through the medium of the professions. The Academy was 
designed to educate quite a different class of students. Ryerson's argu- 
ments were in vain; the Academy received nothing. Ryerson sent his 
own son, Charles, to UCC from 1863 to 1866 because of the good teach- 

On March 4, 1837, a year after he had left Upper Canada, Col- 
borne's wish came to pass: the King's College charter was amended. 
The act stated that it was important "that the Minor or U.C. College 
. . . should be incorporated with and form an appendage of the Univer- 
sity of King's College." 40 The principal was to be appointed by the 
King, the vice-principal (if any) and masters were to be nominated by 
the chancellor of King's College (the lieutenant-governor) and be sub- 
ject to the approval of the King's College Council. Suspension or 
removal followed the same procedure. For the next fifty years the uni- 
versity and UCC had a common bursar and a common management 



and government; succeeding bursars occupied a house on the College 
grounds for many years. 

In 1838, following these changes, Harris resigned his post of princi- 
pal. He had headed ucc for eight memorable years, and urged, by his 
wife, 4 ' he sought the living of a parish near Torquay in the rural quiet 
of Devonshire. He had not had an easy time in York. Not only had he 
started a new school in a new country, but he had seen it moved after a 
year, had been constantly concerned about its financial status, and had 
endured heavy criticism about its legitimacy. He had survived two chol- 
era epidemics and Mackenzie's rebellion of 1837. He had never been 
sure from one week to the next how many boys were going to turn up, 
despite the strict rules about absenteeism, and students would leave the 
school during holidays without a word, never to return. Colborne had 
been his great support through his trials, and once Sir John had left, 
Harris's enthusiasm waned. 

Assessing his character in the absence of much evidence is difficult. 
He does not seem to have been close to his associates at the College, 
judging by his treatment of the classics department or of De la Haye 
and Drewry in the early days. In 1833 Drewry and Padfield were said 
to have given up their jobs because of Harris's tyrannical behaviour 
towards them. He may have been a cold, aloof man. On the death of 
Harris's first wife and elder child, Boulton had very much wanted to go 
to him with sympathy, had Harris been "a different sort of person." 42 
On the other hand, John Strachan sent him a very long, warm letter of 
appreciation on the eve of his departure. Harris had certainly worked 
very hard to defend the College against the barrage of criticism to 
which it was constantly subjected. 

A year or two before his retirement, Harris wrote "Observations on 
Upper Canada College" to answer as best he could three specific accu- 
sations which had been hurled at UCC. The first was that an almost 
exclusive attention was paid to the study of classics; the second, that 
UCC was upheld at great public expense with high salaries to its princi- 
pal masters but bestowed no great advantage to the province and that, 
therefore, it could be dispensed with; the third, that it was educating 
only the sons of the wealthiest inhabitants. 



Harris's response to the first point was simple: he realized that there 
were students who would not go to the university, and as a result, the 
College courses had been changed throughout the years. The time for 
classics had been cut back to less than half of the time spent by pupils at 
any level. Many parents carried the wrong image of the school; they 
thought all the time was spent on Latin and Greek; people simply did 
not take the trouble to find out the facts. He then went on to describe in 
some detail the actual curriculum. 

Down through the years UCC has continued to suffer from the same 
disease — people have a perception of it from the outside not shared by 
those on the inside. Today, even with the marvels of instant communi- 
cation, it is difficult enough to tell prospective parents what the school is 
all about. In Harris's time it must have been that much harder, but one 
wonders whether Harris used the media of the day to advantage. Were 
curriculum changes fed to the press? Was the course of studies given to 
the parents? And even if it were, would anyone have read it? 

To the second accusation, a one-two punch concerning expense and 
usefulness, Harris had several parries. As to expense, he said that sala- 
ries were not as high as in similar institutions in England; in fact, he 
thought they should be even higher to compensate the masters for com- 
ing such a great distance. To people in Toronto this argument must 
have seemed weak, unless they were all mesmerized by the idea that 
teachers of stature could be found only from across the Atlantic. In any 
event, Harris's comparison was inaccurate. Comparable teachers in 
England made between £150 and £250. He may have been thinking of 
himself in contrast to the headmaster of a great English public school. 
Next, Harris asked if the quality of education at UCC could be procured 
elsewhere for less. He argued that in an undeveloped country, a com- 
prehensive education had to be provided somehow. Since the general 
populace could not afford to support it, endowments were essential. A 
taste and a demand for the higher pursuit of learning must be created 
in a new community. His conclusion: a superior education is necessarily 
an expensive commodity. Shades of 1979! 

The usefulness question he handled by admitting that the greater 
number of the College's pupils had always been from the city and 



neighbourhood, with perhaps thirty-five to forty per cent coming from 
outside the city. The beneficial effects of the College education were 
not, however, confined to Toronto but flowed out to the country at 
large. Harris concluded this point, quite sensibly, by pointing out that 
six years was far too short a time to judge of UCC's value to the commu- 

Lastly, Harris dealt with the wealthy-student syndrome. He claimed 
that the list of enrolment contradicted the charge and that the College 
was accessible to almost every condition. The fact that the children of 
the rich attended was no cause for complaint. 

Harris's summation: UCC or some other similar institution was 
indispensable, and since the colony could not afford to have one in all 
eleven districts (nor was there a demand for so many), one institution 
should be provided for all. It had to be built someplace and Toronto 
was that place. UCC was founded to be a provincial institution and to 
bridge the gap between the district schools and the university, a gap too 
wide for pupils to jump without its existence. 

Having answered his critics, Harris added that he favoured a uni- 
form system between UCC and the district schools in order to get stu- 
dents into university. He complained that no two district schools used 
the same books or systems, and that the tremendous diversity set the 
children back, especially if they wanted to enter the College. With a 
unified district system, pupils could proceed smoothly from the district 
schools to UCC, itself arranged "through successive degrees of advance- 
ment," 43 and on to university. 

In this context, Harris withdrew from ucc and turned its destiny 
over to his unknown successor. The masters who had served under him 
presented him with a silver inkstand, accompanied by a flattering 
address. Harris replied that he was tired out at thirty-eight and that 
"the labours of [the] present situation were too onerous to be relin- 
quished with regret." 44 His message to the boys, who gave him an ele- 
gant silver vase, was to pursue their classical studies. Their response: 
"Reverend and beloved Sir, farewell!" 45 



School Life Under Harris 


Verylittleevidence now exists about the school life of the 
average College boy in the 1830s. The most vivid picture we have 
is one recreated by John Ross Robertson some sixty years later in 
conversation with an unknown Old Boy who had boarded in those 
early days. 

[The typical UCC boy] was a sort of medium boy, an average all-round 
youth, such as you could pick up within or without the boarding- 
house, one who could knock off Latin verses with one eye open, trans- 
late at sight the satirical lines of Lucian into decent English, render 
the stanzas of Horace in every-day speech (and, perhaps, use Anglo- 
Saxon too freely in so doing), see clear through a mathematical prob- 
lem, and, after thus performing his duties to himself and parents, 
swing a cricket bat, run a foot race, jump a hurdle, swim across the 
bay, enjoy a pillow fight, and then declare that if he were a member of 
parliament he would pass an Act to hang old Morgan, who provi- 
sioned the boarding-house with steak that was an infringement upon 
an india-rubber patent, and selected sour bread. . . . 

West of the College was the general hospital, and back of it ran a 
long row of wooden buildings known as the cholera sheds, dreaded by 
all, but especially the boarders. The first cholera epidemic came in 
1832, and "then every boy in the College had his tiny bag of camphor 
hung around his neck, an amulet, so the youngsters claimed, that was 
proof against that dreamless sleep into which so many sank to rest in 
that dread year." 



The second cholera attack two years later was worse than the first, 
but luckily no College boy was infected. 

From 1833 to 1838 the boarding-house was run by the Reverend 
John Kent. He lived in the east end of the boarding-house and got the 
boys up at six in the summer, seven in the winter. He was an English- 
man, well-read and as fluent in Latin and Greek prose and poetry as in 
English. Kent was young, bright, and courteous — not a hard man. The 
boys looked on him as a friend, rather than a teacher. 1 

Unsophisticated boys from the country were mildly teased when 
they entered boarding, and the small boys of eight and nine did not like 
it very much. They had to go across Simcoe Street to the taffy (tuck) 
shop to buy ginger beer and bulls'-eyes for the others, and this kept 
them low on pocket money. One poor youngster had a disastrous time 
when he was carrying home six bottles of ginger beer: three of the corks 
flew off while he was still on the street, in full view of the older boys who 
were watching hungrily from the windows. 

In those times the boys slept in large dormitories, seven or eight in 
one apartment. There were four rooms, and a pillow fight was an occa- 
sional feature before retiring. The pranks of the boys as they pranced 
up and down the halls in long nightshirts of different colours made a 
break in the ordinary quiet of the sleeping quarters, and sometimes led 
to unpleasant consequences, especially if the linen suffered. 

There was a good deal of enthusiasm for fishing in the early days of 
the College: 

The Easter holidays saw a score of the boarders make up a fishing 
party to the Humber. Mr. Kent gave the boys permission, and fully 
equipped with tent, bag, and pole, they started for their camping 
ground. One acted as commissary and expended the slender resources 
with care. In order that their advance might be duly heralded en 
route, the Vice-Principal's brother loaned them a splendid huntsman's 
horn. There were in the party the Wallbridges from Belleville, the 
Meyers boys from Trenton, cousins of the Wallbridges, and the four 
FitzGibbon boys, the Givens boys, who lived up in the woods at Pine- 
hurst on Dundas street, the Wilmots, of Newcastle, Sam and his 



brother John, the Robinsons, sons of the Chief Justice, the Wells boys, 
from the hill back of the old town, the Smiths of Port Hope, and the 
Hewards of Toronto. It was a procession that had in it not only resi- 
dent pupils but many from the town. A leading spirit led the way with 
the huntsman's horn, while the other boys carried the kettles, pans 
and supplies. . . . An hour's walk brought them to the Grenadier Pond, 
at the present High Park, and within sight of a fish trap, in which had 
been caught sunfish, perch, and bass. They appropriated the fish and 
made off up the river. A few miles further they found a camping 
ground, close to piles of cordwood cut ready for the wood scows from 
the city. They fashioned tents out of boughs of trees, lit fires, cooked 
fish and turned in at midnight, to turn out long before daylight, as the 
piles of cordwood, a mass of fire, caught from the camp, lit up the sur- 
rounding country The boys were up quickly. Half-awake and half- 
dressed, they attempted to extinguish the flames, but without success. 
To add to their terror, the cry came that canoes were coming down 
the river with men bearing lighted torches. The men, whose faces were 
blackened, threatened to seize the boys' belongings. . . . The boys par- 
leyed, palavered, struck camp and, much to the surprise of Mr. Kent, 
landed, bag and baggage, the day after the outing. They loafed about 
the school for holidays, fearing an investigation might take place, and 
were terror-stricken when one of the older boys declared that a letter 
had been received; that the town police were on search for the "fire 
bugs" — and their surprise was great and relief still greater when we 
found that the tormentors were none other than senior boys of the 
school. The Rapeljes from Simcoe, who, with Askin and Fisher, had 
been spending their holidays with relatives on the Humber, and knew 
of the camp, and come down in canoes to give them a scare 

During the winter, life in the boarding-house could be dull. Days 
were short, there was a lot of work, and opportunities for games were 
limited. The result was that the boarders had a job to entertain them- 
selves. They could skate on the bay by special permission, but on one 
occasion, this privilege was cancelled because some boys set fire to a 
marsh; the culprits were never found. Another favourite pastime was 
amateur theatricals. One such was "Lucinda; or the Mysteries of the 
College Pudding," which made fun of the College cook. The perform- 



ance was in the upper loft of Dr. Phillips's carriage-house, which was 
cleaned up and made into a makeshift theatre with benches and chairs 
from the boarding-house and curtains from the masters' houses. Chief 
Justice Robinson and his family, masters and their wives attended to 
share the fun. 

During the good weather, there were other diversions. An orchard 
belonging to the Honourable Alexander Macdonell fronted on Ade- 
laide Street for a length of about five hundred feet. It was a superb 
orchard, unlike any other in Toronto, full of apples, pears, berries, and 
currants, and guarded by a couple of ferocious-looking bulldogs. 

Apples have charms for boys, and pears possess a relish which always 
makes the owners of keen and youthful appetites brave danger. The 
day-boys were no better than the boarders. Their desires were mutual. 
To climb the fence in daylight meant certain capture. Darkness, 
therefore, as the friend of evil-doers, was accepted as an ally. The 
boarding-house gates were locked at seven; evening prayer at nine saw 
the household between blankets. The small boy then as now was an 
aggressive agent of mischief, and after the clock had struck ten, sheets 
and towels were fastened into ropes, and youths of ten and twelve were 
let down, with pillow-slips in hand, and orders to load up with all the 
varieties of fruit that could be obtained. . . . [One boy], being detailed 
on a great occasion to secure fruit, was caught in the clutches of the 
gardener just as he was preparing to vanish. The angry old gardener 
told the boy he would have to bring him before Mr. Macdonell, but 
the little fellow pleaded for liberty ... he returned in triumph to the 
boarding-house, not only free but with a pillow-slip full of apples, 
which had been carried away by another boy, while the principal sin- 
ner was pleading for liberty. 

Religious observance was part of daily life at the College. There 
were morning and afternoon prayers, as well as Sunday-morning serv- 
ice at St. James' Cathedral. Some of the Anglicans objected to the regu- 
lar Sunday journey, especially since the Presbyterians were free to go to 
church or not, as they pleased. The result was that there were many 



"conversions" to the Presbyterian fold in order to avoid the long tramp 
through town. 

Towards the end of Harris's principalship, the Mackenzie Rebellion 
occurred. William Lyon Mackenzie was of humble Scottish Presbyter- 
ian birth, but had, by dint of hard work and determination, become a 
newspaper publisher, fanatical social reformer, and first mayor of 
Toronto. He was adamantly opposed to the so-called Family Compact, 
"a few shrewd, crafty, covetous men under whose management one of 
the most lovely and desirable sections of America, remained a compara- 
tive desert." 2 In his newspaper, the Colonial Advocate, he increasingly 
attacked the powerful and privileged — the Robinsons, Strachan, even 
the Lieutenant-Governor himself. In the course of time he gathered 
around him many admirers among the farmers and village mechanics 
of the province. 

Mackenzie's battle for social justice and against privilege reached a 
climax when, in December 1837, he led a pathetic revolt which failed 
miserably and which finished his political career at the age of forty-two. 
At Upper Canada College, one of the fifteen-year-old boys, W. Hamil- 
ton Merritt, kept a journal which, supplemented by the comments of 
his young brother, Thomas R., tells how the rebellion affected the boys. 

Heard much of the disaffection beginning to manifest itself among the 
people of Yonge St., to which we gave little attention, as it was none of 
our business. Why should we? When the last Company of the military 
left, we were at the College gates seeing them pass, and gave Mr. 
Mackenzie, who followed to see them clear, a very hearty huzzah; he 
very politely bowed to us and passed on. I felt at the time a sort of 
dread of the man, but could not explain to myself the reason. In 
December the Rebellion broke upon us most unexpectedly; the night 
before we had heard of preparations being made, but considered the 
actual event a thing far off, as the ringing of the alarm bells, which 
awoke some of the boys, was considered merely a lark of the porter; in 
the morning, however, the full force of the reality came upon us most 
startingly; we got freed from College by it, and perhaps were not very 
much grieved at the event. ... It was a curious sight to behold guards 
of civilians about Government House, the shops all closed, people hur- 



rying silently in all directions, some with arms, and some without; 
then, at the Town Hall where was the chief assemblage, were cannon 
with torches ready to be lighted, arms were being distributed, and 
melancholy was exhibited in every countenance; nothing was done 
that day except various movements to defend the town, barricading 
the streets and filling houses with men; all was exciting, it was indeed 
a change agreeable from our dull work at College. This was something 
like life; we had often read in history of rebellion and war, but had 
never experienced the feeling of the immediate presence of conflict, of 
a real state of things, when human life is held at so cheap a rate. 

T. R. Merritt continued the story: 

We boys almost in a body visited Government House to offer our serv- 
ices to Sir Francis Bond Head to fight for our Queen and country. He 
received us kindly, thanked us, gave us each a piece of cake, and 
advised us to go home as soon as we could. My brother and I and 
James Ingersoll, also of St. Catharines, not quite satisfied with playing 
so tame a part, were determined that we would catch a sight of the 
rebels if possible. We ran north up what is now Queen street avenue 
and the park, then struck towards Yonge street, seeing nothing out of 
the way till we neared the toll gate, when we caught glimpses of rough 
men riding about, apparently much excited, one of whom galloped 
over to us and promptly took us prisoners, shutting us in the back 
room of the little toll gate house. We could see a few men riding about 
with guns, and that seemed to be the extent of the invading force. We 
thought of the preparations being made down town — closed stores, 
cannon in front of the market buildings, armed men in the windows, 
cavalry galloping up and down King street to keep the people out of 
the cannon's range, and the enemy, of presumed great strength, 
momentarily expected by the way of Yonge street. We were aching to 
get back and tell what we had seen. One rebel aimed his rifle to shoot 
a man who was making away, so we knew what to expect if we tried to 
escape. In a couple of hours, however, we became bold, worked at the 
window until at last it yielded, when we quickly dropped out of it and 
crept on all fours to the nearest brushwood. But the vigilant eye of one 
of the rebels had sighted us, and several gave chase. 



The woods at that time were so thick in that vicinity that it was 
not difficult to evade the horsemen and reach what is now Avenue 
road, down which we sped at a much quicker pace than we had come 

When it was safe to breathe again we told our tale, and soon there 
gathered a curious crowd around us, who conducted us to headquar- 
ters where they were much surprised and relieved at our discovery of 
the handful of men whose dreaded presence had caused so great an 
alarm, and as the present boys can imagine, we did not regret the 
rashness that had suddenly made us the little heroes of the hour. 

Next day we, with Keefer, Ingersoll, and the other College boys 
took a small steamer, which was being sent to Hamilton for men and 
supplies, arriving there the following morning, from there drove to St. 
Catharines which, on account of the bad state of the roads, we did not 
reach till about three o'clock of the second morning. We found the 
then village all excitement waiting for news, and as we were the first to 
give the state of affairs in Toronto, and had actually been in the ene- 
my's camp, were again lionized. After a long absence, we returned to 

One of Mackenzie's chief supporters was Samuel Lount, a simple, 
good-hearted blacksmith who had been a member of the House of 
Assembly. Lount was captured, tried, and sentenced for high treason. 
When he was hanged on April 12, 1838, the College students were 
given a half-holiday to witness the execution. 

During the winters of 1837 and 1838, when there were more troops 
than usual in Toronto, the city was merry and the youngsters got a full 
share of the fun. There were more children's parties than usual, and a 
great deal was made by the College boys of learning the countersign 
each night so that they could respond properly to the sentries' chal- 

The rebellion naturally encouraged sham battles, and after a snow- 
fall the boys would erect great snow forts and divide up into loyalists 
and rebels, tossing up for which side should hold the fort and which side 
attack. Regardless, the result was always the same as might be expect- 
ed: victory for the supporters of the Queen. 



Outside the school grounds, there were other sources of amusement. 
The College students had an entree to public places and ceremonies not 
free to boys of other schools. For example, at the opening and closing of 
Parliament there was space in the Legislative Council Chamber set 
apart for them. In addition, they were welcome in the galleries of the 
Legislative Assembly, where some had fathers who were members of the 
assembly; half-holidays were good opportunities for listening to the 
assembled wisdom. Like religious feeling, party feeling ran high in the 
thirties and the few students who had fathers who were politically left of 
centre had rather a hard time of it. 

We do not know much about the relationship between the earliest 
masters and their pupils. We know that Charles Dade, the mathematics 
master, was something of a meteorologist and took the boys out tramp- 
ing on the ice of Toronto Bay and elsewhere for exercises in practical 
mathematics. We know, too, that Mr. De la Haye's usefulness was lim- 
ited by two things: first, a boy who worked hard and became good at 
French was called a "French fag" — an insult not many were willing to 
endure; second, De la Haye was an ardent admirer of Napoleon and 
could easily be distracted from teaching to discuss his hero's merits. De 
la Haye was a short, thick-set, dark man, unmistakably French in 
appearance. He could be pretty severe if annoyed. Most of the boys, 
especially in the upper forms, paid little attention to French. De la 
Haye had a low opinion of Mr. Dodd's commercial form, once telling a 
boy that the commercial form was the worst form in the school and that 
he was the worst boy in the commercial form. 

During Harris's eight years in office, several changes took place 
among the group of teachers. The careers of three men appointed dur- 
ing his principalship are worth mention: Howard, Maynard, and Bar- 

John G. Howard, who replaced Drewry as drawing master in 1833, 
stayed on to teach drawing for twenty-four years. Howard was born in 
the county of Cumberland in northern England in 1803, and practised 
surveying, engineering, and architecture in London. In 1832 he took 
ship for Canada, owing to hard times in England. After an extraordi- 
nary series of misadventures — bad seamanship, drunkenness among the 



crew, mutiny, and hairbreadth escapes from drowning — he arrived in 
York. A letter of introduction to the Honourable Peter Robinson led 
him to Sir John Colborne, who saw some of his drawings and liked 
them. He suggested that Howard enter a competition for the post of 
drawing master. As the successful candidate, Howard was appointed at 
a salary of £100 per year for teaching three hours a day, four days a 
week. John Ross Robertson in Landmarks of Toronto says that this 
appointment was the foundation of Howard's fortune. He received 
immediate orders for buildings, was appointed first city surveyor by 
Mayor Mackenzie, and put down the first eleven-foot plank sidewalks 
on King Street. One of his best-known buildings was the asylum at 999 
Queen Street West, recently condemned and destroyed. In 1836 How- 
ard bought High Park and the next year moved into his home, Col- 
borne Lodge, there. He left High Park to the city when he died. Eric 
Arthur ranks him with the greatest nineteenth-century Toronto archi- 
tects and a foremost benefactor to the city. 

How Howard managed to carry on a career as a surveyor and archi- 
tect while teaching at the College is a mystery, but an anonymous Old 
Boy, writing in 1901, states, "Mr. Howard's classes in geometrical 
drawing were well attended and he was deservedly popular." He had a 
very amiable disposition and was well liked by the other masters and 
the boys. He had a rather Cockney accent and a habit of leaving off or 
adding h's, and this occasionally caused merriment among the boys, 
especially when he would instruct the class to draw a line from H to l! 

The Reverend George Maynard, MA, yet another Cantabrian with 
a fine university record, joined the College in 1836 as second classical 
master. Two years later he switched to the mathematics department. It 
was a move which had serious repercussions at the College, culminating 
in the scandal of 1854-55, Maynard's dismissal, and the principal's res- 

Maynard was a vivid character, who, from time to time, played first 
violin in the UCC orchestra. Several Old Boys recalled something of his 
manner and teaching habits. Elmes Henderson, a former head boy, 
wrote in 1929: 



Mr. Maynard was quite eccentric in his teaching ways generally, and 
only the boys mathematically inclined got any real instruction from 
him. When a boy after absence brought his excuse, he was told, "Put it 
in the Post Office," which meant a particular spot on his table from 
which Mr. Maynard would rake it over to him with his cane. A new 
boy not knowing this peculiarity would get rattled and could not 
understand what he had to do, to the amusement of the others. He 
wore a curious short cape and queer hat and was a well-known and 
somewhat picturesque figure on the street, and he gabbled the prayers 
very, very fast. Maynard Avenue or Place in Parkdale was so called 
from the property he owned there. 

F. E. Dixon in 1900 remembered that: 

Mr. Maynard, the mathematical master, had been a Cambridge 
wrangler (first-class honours) and was a very good mathematician, 
though his methods of imparting instruction were at times, to say the 
least of it, peculiar. One favourite illustration of his in explaining 
mathematical signs was — bread, plus cheese, plus celery, makes bread 
and cheese and celery; and I once heard him startle a boy with the 
astonishing problem: If a pound of butter cost 4d., what will a cow 

And an anonymous Old Boy, also around the turn of the century: 

Mr. Maynard wore a large shirt front, velvet waistcoat, and a long 
gold chain, joined with a slide. It was the envy of all the boys. He also 
had a small clock on his table. His first move was to open his desk and 
place the clock on the ledge. He always spoke of the boys as strangers, 
never recognizing them or his sons. He was a proficient mathemati- 
cian, excelling in mental arithmetic — sharpening a boy's wits, fond of 
making "the sum of the digits" conclude a mental problem. He was 
particularly hard on the consumption of hardwood. His grate was 
always piled up to the top, and he insisted upon the head boy sitting as 
near it as possible, and sometimes he would purposely make a mistake 
in answering questions in order to be clear of the roasting of the fire. 



Mr. Maynard encouraged the boys to make progress. He could lead 
his scholars into the mysteries of mathematics with considerable ease. 

Frederick W. Barron replaced the deceased Boulton in the classical 
department in 1834. He had been educated at Queen's College, Cam- 
bridge but had not completed his degree. For a short while he had lived 
with his brother, the principal of a Pestalozzi School in England, and 
taught there apparently to his brother's satisfaction. Coming to Canada 
in the early thirties, he had spotted an advertisement for a teaching post 
at UCC and been unexpectedly taken on at the time of Phillips's resig- 
nation and Boulton's death. Another unexpected event occurred nine 
years later when Barron was appointed principal, the first of four inside 
appointments in the College's history. His accession (bypassing May- 
nard) was the result partially of circumstances and partially of his 
admirable personal qualities, but it enraged an already unstable May- 
nard and led eventually to a feud which shook the College to its founda- 



Growing Pains 

i 838- i 86 i 

JUST BEFORE Harris LEFT Canada in April 1 838, Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor George Arthur wrote to acquaintances in England seeking rec- 
ommendations for Harris's replacement. When nothing transpired 
after a couple of months, the Council pressed Arthur to ask the British 
government to call on the Archbishop of Canterbury for help. The new 
principal was finally selected by the Archbishop the following January. 
Meanwhile the College got along as well as it could. The first classi- 
cal master, Charles Mathews, had applied for Harris's position and 
been turned down, but he was appointed acting-principal. He felt 
somewhat aggrieved since at his original appointment he had been told 
by both Jones in Oxford and by Harris that he might well become vice- 
principal upon Phillips's retirement. When Phillips had retired in 1834, 
Matthews had taken over the vice-principal's duties but had received 
neither his title nor his salary. Mathews accepted the acting-principal- 
ship, and at the end of the nine-month interregnum his only reward was 
a note of thanks from the King's College Council for discharging his 
onerous duties. 

During this period changes took place on the teaching staff which 
had long-term implications of good and evil for the College. Charles 
Dade, the original mathematics master who had joined UCC from Eliza- 
beth College, decided to retire to Oakville. His health seems to have 
suffered during his nine years at the College and so, at the age of thir- 
ty-seven, he took up farming. He was a versatile man, who wrote arti- 
cles on a wide variety of subjects — storms, cholera, Indian remains, 



lunar influences — and his departure left a large gap in the College fac- 

The usual procedure would have been to advertise for Dade's 
replacement, but this was forestalled by the action of George Maynard, 
the second classical master. Maynard saw himself as potential princi- 
pal, or at the very least a department head. The route to principalships 
and success at that time in public schools was almost invariably through 
the classics department. Mathews, who was thirty-eight and a potential 
principal himself, seemed to have that route blocked. Maynard, there- 
fore, promptly applied for Dade's mathematics position and was accept- 
ed. It was a move he ever after regretted. Barron was promoted from 
third classical master to second, replacing Maynard. When the masters 
were listed from time to time, Maynard's name generally appeared 
before Barron's, but regardless of precedence, the move was fatal to 
Maynard's chances of future promotion. There was begun between 
these two men a latent feud which burst into full bloom in 1843. 

Maynard's move created an opening in the classics department. 
The resulting benefit to the College balanced the negative effects of 
Maynard's appointment, for it brought Henry Scadding to the College 
staff. Scadding, the first pupil to enter the College, had gone to St. 
John's College, Cambridge, graduating in 1837. There followed a year 
as tutor to Sir John Colborne's sons in Quebec before Scadding 
returned to Toronto and applied for a teaching post at his old school. In 
September 1838 he received a letter from Archdeacon Strachan for- 
mally announcing his election to the College staff. "Gloria Deo in excel- 
sio," he wrote in his diary and proudly recorded taking his seat in the 
Long Room as one of the classical masters of UCC. 1 The same year at 
Prize Day he noted the large attendance of Old Boys: "[Here] lies the 
strength of U.C. College," 2 he wrote — a statement which has held true 
for fourteen decades. 

Another change of staff of less academic significance was the dis- 
missal of George Anthony Barber as English and writing master. As col- 
lector of the College dues, Barber could not account for a large sum of 
money that he had collected. In his deposition to the 1839 investigating 
committee, Barber began, "Not having kept a set of books during any 



part of the time I held the office of College collector. . . ." 3 After being 
fired, he had the gall to request an additional allowance for half a 
year's lost salary. This request was refused. In order to discharge the 
£1,500 debt, Barber went into bankruptcy and gave all his property, 
worth about £1,000, to the College. He was forgiven the rest. Ever a 
fighter, he complained bitterly about the newspaper accounts of his 
dishonourable dismissal from UCC. He was succeeded by De la Haye. 

In January 1839 the Reverend John McCaul, LLD, was appointed 
by the British government to pick up the reins laid down by Dr. Harris. 
McCaul, a Dubliner, was thirty-two years old and a graduate of Trinity 
College, Dublin, to which he had matriculated at fourteen! He won 
mathematical prizes and then switched to classics and won several 
important prizes, a scholarship, and several medals. He wrote and pub- 
lished a series of works on Horace and the Greek tragedians, and one of 
his books was adopted as a standard textbook by the grammar schools 
of Ireland. He had a reputation as a fine public speaker. In short, ucc's 
new principal was a brilliant scholar with enviable testimonials. He 
had, in addition, some experience with boys, having prepared pupils for 
university examinations, with splendid results. 

McCaul was a man with high expectations, and the Upper Canada 
post was at first a deep disappointment to him. The College was little 
more than an unpopular public school, with a small constituency and 
an uncertain future, and he undoubtedly looked back at Dublin with 
longing. He helped his career here, however, by marrying the daughter 
of Judge Jonas Jones, a leading member of the Family Compact and 
Speaker of the Legislative Council. During his four years as principal of 
UCC, McCaul worked unceasingly to bring King's College into being, 
doubtless intending to join that institution in some influential capacity 
at its inception. 

In the main, McCaul undertook to make no startling changes in the 
work begun by Harris, but during his brief term of office he did make 
several improvements. First, he paid special attention to the top 
form — the seventh. Since the College had been founded as a substitute 
for the dormant King's College, it was expected in some degree to do 
university work. McCaul took great pains to give the seventh form, 



which contained the only group of students of this quality in the prov- 
ince, as much as possible a university character. 4 Second, his teaching 
methods and curriculum were up to date; for example, when reading a 
Greek play, he ensured that the pupils knew all about the Greek thea- 
tre. He was very careful and conscientious in his teaching, having a spe- 
cial love for logic. He also brought in Hebrew and German as options. 
Third, in addition to donating a prize of his own, he made some 
changes in the arrangements for prizes with the evident intention of 
bringing out varieties of talent. Finally, McCaul persuaded the King's 
College Council to found twelve exhibitions. 

As the College moved through the early years of its second decade, 
it continued to attract considerable attention. As might be expected, 
opinion varied widely. Archdeacon Strachan, continuing the fight for 
his university while overseeing the College as president of the King's 
College Council, grumbled that the aborted university would have had 
just the same organization as the College: an Anglican clergyman at its 
head, masters and resident men mostly in Anglican holy orders, and all 
sects represented in the enrolment. Why one institution and not the 
other? The Montreal Baptist Register, on the other hand, blamed the 
College for using money intended for general education to benefit only 
the sons of the rich, for being High Church, and for being dominated 
by the Family Compact. The quality of teaching was not being 
questioned — the school's very existence was. 

But all was not black. Charles Dickens visited Toronto in the spring 
of 1842 and commented favourably on UCC: "a sound education in 
every department of polite learning can be had, at a very moderate 
expense. ... It has pretty good endowments in the way of land, and is a 
valuable and useful institution." 5 A young Irish visitor, John Robert 
Godley, had a high opinion of the College. He noted an enrolment 6 of 
about 160, including 60 boarders, and an excellent staff of well-paid 
masters. He thought the mandatory French course was very useful 
because it helped social intercourse with the French Canadians! Godley 
must have chosen his interviewees carefully, because he heard nothing 
but praise for the College. He noted that "it seems to be thought right 
to select men from the English and Irish universities" and "the more 



important [positions] will continue to be filled by churchmen." Curi- 
ously he made no judgment about these debatable policies and 
expressed pleasure at the existence of such a school "in the prevailing 
hostility to anything like exclusiveness or establishment." 7 He closed his 
remarks by suggesting that the fees be raised 8 so that part of the endow- 
ment could be used to establish other schools like the College in other 

If the College's academic standard continued at a high level, the 
same cannot be said for the state of its finances. About a year after 
becoming lieutenant-governor, George Arthur discovered to his dismay 
how prodigal the College was. He asked for a select committee of the 
House of Assembly to investigate both King's College and Upper Can- 
ada College. Among the mountain of figures, two important points 
came to light. The first was the monumental incompetence of Colonel 
Joseph Wells, the King's College Bursar since 1827. 9 The second was 
the total amount of money spent by Upper Canada College during its 
first decade: well in excess of £60,000. Since its receipts were only 
£28,000, the rest — £34,400 — had come from King's College. 

Arthur wrote to the Colonial Secretary in the summer of 1839 
explaining the situation: the 66,000-acre endowment income had not 
been realized; there was difficulty disposing profitably of the bulk of the 
lands; and the revenue had fallen far short of the expenditure. As a 
result, the College had become indebted to the university, without 
which it would not have survived. Writing to Colborne, now governor 
in Lower Canada, Arthur said he did not think that both the university 
and the College could be afforded, and that the former should be post- 
poned indefinitely. 

The concept of making UCC a provisional substitute for King's was 
thoroughly debated during 1839 and 1840. An act was drawn up in 
1839, but never passed, which attempted to follow Arthur's prescrip- 
tion. It called for a portion of King's College revenues, not exceeding 
one-half, to be devoted to UCC. The latter, with some changes, could be 
a temporary university until it was deemed necessary to build one. This 
strange institution was to have both university and school courses. 

In early 1840 a motion was tabled and passed in the House of 



Assembly that professorships in medicine be established at ucc. The 
Governor General responded that measures were in progress to meet 
the House's wishes. A week later a meeting was called to consider John 
McCaul's detailed and ambitious plan for establishing a school and a 
university in the grounds of the College. The original buildings were to 
be used for the university, with the masters' residences appropriated for 
the professors. John Strachan, then sixty-two years of age, was to be 
president; McCaul himself was to be vice-president and provost; 
Mathews, Maynard, and Scadding would become professors. A new 
school, headed by Barron, was to be built for the boys. The annual cost 
would be almost £7,000. 

This scheme never got off the ground, but it did engender some 
lively debate. Charles Mathews sent an endless letter to the Lieuten- 
ant-Governor violently resisting the whole concept. Mathews had a 
high opinion of what Harris had done to develop the College. Under 
this new extravagant arrangement, the school's reputation and 
efficiency were bound to suffer. He objected to the choice of Barron as 
headmaster; the headmaster should be, like Harris and McCaul, in 
holy orders. Despite the fatuity of some of his clerical arguments, 
Mathews uttered a profound truth. "Of all the voluntary evils which 
afflict mankind, cheap education is certainly not the least." 10 He closed 
his letter by pleading that ucc should not be destroyed, that a separate 
university should be started, and that Archdeacon Strachan agree with 
him. Archdeacon Strachan did indeed agree with him, and stated that 
UCC was operating in a very superior manner, was most valuable and 
necessary, and would get his support. The new scheme appalled him 
and he intended to defend UCC's integrity with great vigour. Nobody 
had any authority to diminish the faculty, and the best idea was to start 
the new university forthwith. 

Lieutenant-Governor Arthur himself seems to have had doubts 
about the plan, but thought that Strachan approved of it. When Stra- 
chan made his views known, a distinct coolness developed between the 
men. Arthur had the last word, however; only about £250 was available 
to build a university reckoned to cost an enormous amount. 

The dilemma seemed insoluble, academic common sense at odds 


Sir John Colborne in 1852 — long after he had left Canada, been pro- 
moted to general, and been elevated to the peerage as Lord Seaton 
(from a drawing by George Richmond, RA). 

The Old Blue School 
(also the District 
Grammar School, also 
the Royal Grammar 
School). John 
Strachan had painted 
it blue with white 
trim. It greeted the 
first College students 
in 1830 at Lombard 
and Jarvis streets (Up- 
per Canada College). 

The Anglican and the Methodist: John Strachan (left) and Egerton 
Ryerson (right) in later life. Opposition to Upper Canada College was 
one of the few things they had in common (Metropolitan Toronto 
Library Board). 

(Opposite) Colborne's "cargo of masters." Phillips and Barber were part 
of the grammar-school takeover. (Photo of Barber from the Public 
Archives of Canada; all others, J. Ross Robertson Collection, Metropol- 
itan Toronto Library.) 

Jean du P. De la Haye, French 

The Rev. Dr. Thomas Phillips, 

The Rev. William Boulton, sec- 
ond classics master. 

The Rev. Joseph H. Harris, MA, 
DD, principal 1829-38. 

George Anthony Barber, English, 

writing, and arithmetic master. 

Collector of College fees and 

father of Canadian cricket. 


The Rev. Charles Mathews, first 
classics master. 

Mr. J. W. Padfield, English, writ- 
ing, and arithmetic master. Mas- 
ter of the Preparatory School. 

The Rev. Charles Dade, mathe- 
matics master. 

Boarding House 

Mr. Padflold 
Mr. J no. Kent 
Mr. Cosonx 
Mr. Htoruu-tt 
Dr. Barrett 
Mr. Martland 

Picture not 


One House 

Occupied bt 










Cock burn 







Two Houses Occupied by 































6 e 

Two Houses Occupied bt 

Mr. Mathews Mr. DelaHa70 
Mr. Maynard Mr. Wedd 
Mr. Brown Dr. Connon 
Mr. Swcatman Mr. Furror 
Mr. Soarllng Mr. Wedd 
Mr. Thompson 
Mr. Brock 

Residences of the Masters, 1834-1891. 

{Top) Colborne's enormous new school 
on Russell Square, as it looked in 1835 
to Thomas Young, UCC drawing master 
and later a leading Toronto architect 
(Public Archives of Canada). {Above) 
John Ross Robertson's list of the occu- 
pants of the masters' houses, 1830-91 
{Landmarks of Toronto). {Right) A dormi- 
tory layout after the 1 856 expansion 
(Public Archives of Ontario). 


NK House 








Do la Hayo 

Divided and en- 

larged and occu- 

pied by 


St. Rcniy 










!..■'.'. .i-M. 

King Street. 

Residences of tho'Masters, 1834-1891. 






The Denison family. Thirty-four members of the family attended UCC 
between 1830 and 1905, the most prominent of whom were George 
Taylor, II (bearded man seated right rear), the catalyst in the Barron- 
Maynard feud, and George Taylor, III, the governor who insulted 
Goldwin Smith (on steps holding child) (Metropolitan Toronto 

(Above) The Rev. 
George Maynard, sec- 
ond classics master 
1836-38, first mathe- 
matics master 1835-56, 
and protagonist in the 
Barron-Maynard feud 
(Upper Canada Col- 
lege). (Above left) Fred- 
erick W. Barron, 
classics department 
1834-43. Principal 
1843-56 (Christopher 

(Left) The Rev. Henry Scadding, ucc's 
first student and head boy. He was later a 
classics master (1838-62) and a prolific 
writer (University of Toronto Archives). 
(Below) J. G. Howard, drawing master 
1 833-57. He donated High Park to the city 
(Metropolitan Toronto Library). 

(Left) William Wedd, head boy in 1843 
and classics master 1850-91. He was the 
top classical scholar of his day (Upper 
Canada College). 

The Rev. John Kent, a great cricket- 
er, who was boarding-house master 
1833-38 (J. Ross Robertson Collec- 
tion, Metropolitan Toronto Library). 

'■' v^ 

C.J. Thompson, English and writing 
master 1842-83. The entries in the 
College's second register are in his 
handwriting (J. Ross Robertson Col- 
lection, Metropolitan Toronto 

Dr. Michael Barrett, long-time mas- 
ter (1844-84) and the College's first 
doctor (J. Ross Robertson Collec- 
tion, Metropolitan Toronto Library). 

(Right) The masthead of the earliest school 
paper still in existence, John Ross Robert- 
son's Monthly Times (Public Archives of 
Ontario). (Below) Not really a UCC rowing 
team, but close to it. The photo was taken 
at the main door of the Model Grammar 
School. All are UCC boys except those on 
the ends. John Ross Robertson is third 
from right (J. Ross Robertson Collection, 
Metropolitan Toronto Library). 


s ' r SUA GR \T1 \ PARVIS 



t™d involnntarilj ^ou^ht In* rerol. 
v.t, but i restrained hjm : 

*■ No firean n d, if we shed a 

drop of thi : imed men. 

I ool and (ni't to e) 
In all * ', and men 

I Ho* the will .,i 
courage or impudenee sufficient to begin an 
-■":n k 1 Iw miners, by whom w« 

knew thai wc were armed with re- 
volver*, but the) did i ■ > know we were detcr- 
thfrn until the- last resort, 

and altli ...Is us and 

I a r 1.1 ii u was raised 
to -ii ike, km h i 

n the all u !.. [fad in bul fallen, a 
do* n pair of bi I ■ 

nd .1 our flesh, and the er< m 

■ on>idi red worthy a jubilee. 

The mil ■ ■ to and fro tike a 


were encompassed, and turn whichever way 

I bul stern brutal 

faci fierce wi I tnxions for cur 

blood. I uc in. n wbo 

■! (hi , . . 

v% i . ■, ■ . . ■ Inumber of n a 

uti . . i d to liv« . 
" Miners of will j 

1 itci termini 
r I- lh< hi. and then try lite viri 
■ ^ vi r, for 1 did nol wi-!i to ,| H 
-* F ■ No no, wc* 1 


■ of . 

C^A-thc bushrangers, cried Tom yelling with qx- 


ultation, and the crowd took up the cry and 
reechoed it. 

a proposition to make, ' tried Fred, 
■i voice "i 1 * beard abort- the tu- 
mult, and curiosity out-wrighed the thir>t for 
vengeance. The noise was hushed for a few 
minutes, and all listened attentively. Delay 
was world < fur we anlicipa- 

■•hoijld be recog- 
nized, and matters explained. Vet it was not 
strange thai wc had seen no one who could 
is. for Batlarat bad a population of 
nearly forty thousand persons, and m 

matiy, more than fifty, and half of 
• men. 
• \\ hat*s the proportion ? «pit it out ! 
- i-orac down libe- 

ra! with stolen propcrt) T ' 

1 oar of laughter at 
this sally, and whea it had died away, Fred 

■ This man. (pointing to Tern.) says that 
we are bu and can 

prove ilia' we are honest miners, like vour- 
selvcs. (Sem tion.) We do not propose 
- a c n- 
!■ ■ dare not ii 

one but a little boy. That is not cbaracter- 
■ miners of Batlarat, foi long-l 

ntry, we 

refoi tyranny-, (faint in- 

i a p pi a us. .} We tell ihc man 

who nalh d u , f. ■ I « a bar, 

and thai wc ■ ation, «t an abject /^ 

i for the insult." cj»v 

were cries and yells of — 




with financial necessity. To make an institution into both a school and 
a university looked absurd. Yet "King's College" seemed to have no 
other object than to provide funds for maintaining UCG (the total now 
being £60,000). Could a university be afforded as well? The question 
came up again and again. 

By 1842 the answer was yes. On April 23 the cornerstone of the 
University of King's College was laid. The UCC faculty entertained the 
Chancellor of the University and others on the momentous occasion. 
There was strong oppositon to McCaul being considered for the vice- 
presidency of the new university, since the office was held to be illegal. 
When his appointment was announced, Chief Justice John Beverley 
Robinson criticized McCaul for leaving UCC before a successor had 
taken charge, and predicted an early demise for the College. King's 
College opened on June 8, 1843, thirteen years and five months after 
the first students had entered Upper Canada College. The horse had 
caught up with its gilt-edged cart. 

In March 1843 Dr. McCaul retired from the principalship, having 
been appointed vice-president of King's College and professor of classi- 
cal literature, logic, rhetoric, and belles-lettres. He went on to become 
the president of the University of Toronto, while continuing to publish 
scholarly works in archaeology and theology. He had achieved his 

During McCaul's time as principal, the only long-term appoint- 
ment to the staff of UCC was Christopher J. Thompson, who joined the 
College as an English master in 1842. He remained, teaching writing 
and English, for a period of forty-one years. As a specimen of penman- 
ship and also as a notice to parents, he required each pupil to write, 
once a quarter, a letter addressed to his parent or guardian, as follows: 
"I am directed to inform you that the collector will be at the College to 

receive the fees for the ensuing quarter on ."" Specially prepared 

copy-books for the annual exhibit of pupils' writing were carefully filled 
up and formed quite an interesting exhibit, on the merit of which the 
writing prizes were adjudged. Thompson had an accurate knowledge of 
bookkeeping, and thoroughly impressed on all his pupils the difference 
between debit and credit. He abounded in good nature, and without 



being lax in discipline, was indulgent to all his pupils to an extent that 
made him deservedly popular. 

With McCaul gone, for the second time in a little over four years 
Charles Mathews was called upon to be acting-principal. Whether he 
applied for the principalship a second time is unknown; in any event, 
he was not offered the post, nor was he allowed to sit on the King's Col- 
lege Council. 

There followed one of those periods of confused administration rela- 
tively common in the College's nineteenth-century history. John 
Strachan was desperately anxious that great care be taken in the choice 
of McCaul's successor. He was a little bitter that College appointments 
were so exclusively in the hands of the Governor General and that he 
was never consulted. Not wishing to interfere, he did so anyway. He 
urged upon Sir Charles Bagot the same route the College had travelled 
twice previously: a scholarly Anglican clergyman from Great Britain. 
There was a rumour around Toronto that Bagot was considering E. A. 
Meredith, 12 a young lawyer, for the post, and Strachan was scandal- 

The dying Bagot tried to follow Strachan's advice and offered the 
principalship to a saintly young Oxonian, William Ripley, the son of a 
family friend. (Ripley had been a student at Rugby, where he had 
come under the influence of the great Thomas Arnold.) He was not a 
clergyman, though he did enter the ministry six months later. A modest 
and thoughtful man, he refused the Upper Canada post, not wanting to 
be jumped over long-service masters. He did, however, accept the posi- 
tion of second classical master.' 3 

Bagot died in May 1843 to be replaced by Sir Charles Metcalfe. 
Metcalfe had a very difficult constitutional problem to deal with and 
during the summer and early autumn gave little or no thought to sup- 
plying ucc with an operating head. At some time during this period, 
however, Mathews got fed up with being in limbo, sailed for Guernsey, 
and never came back. He had probably learned of the new principal, 
under whom he would not care to work. In any event he left without 
permission from anyone, and when he boldly wrote for his salary, he 
received only part of it. 



Finally after eight months of unrest, the Governor General let the 
King's College Council know that he had appointed Frederick W. Bar- 
ron to the office of principal "subject to any permanent arrangement 
that the interests of (ucc) may . . . require."' 4 This message was accom- 
panied by the news that the principal's salary was being reduced to 
£500 per annum. Metcalfe may be excused for not showing much inter- 
est in the appointment; several days later he had a crisis among his 
ministers which resulted in a mass resignation. Ten months passed 
before Barron's appointment became permanent. There may have been 
several reasons behind this: he was a relatively junior member of the 
staff (certainly junior to Mathews), he was a layman, and at that time 
he had no university degree. 

Barron's appointment drove George Maynard into a fury. He wrote 
a fourteen-page letter to the King's College Council setting out his ver- 
sion of the development of precedence on the College teaching staff, a 
development which had robbed him of his rightful promotion. He 
claimed Harris had persuaded him to shift departments. He involved 
the long-retired Dade in his tirade, claiming that the mathematics 
department had originally taken precedence over classics. He felt the 
indignity and disgrace of being superceded by a junior master who was 
not even a university graduate. His own application for first classical 
master, sent in at the same time as Barron's on the assumption that 
Mathews was to be the new principal, had evidently been lost or con- 
veniently forgotten. Maynard never forgave this slight, and Barron's 
term of office was made wretched by Maynard's persistent hostility. 

Barron did not have the academic qualifications of his two predeces- 
sors, but he could be described as a pretty good all-rounder. He was an 
enthusiastic athlete' 5 as well as an accomplished musician. It was prob- 
ably this all-round quality, as well as his availability, that appealed to 
the distracted Metcalfe. 

The first five years of Barron's regime were relatively quiet, that 
period of stillness before a storm breaks. Two teaching appointments of 
importance were made during these years — Michael Barrett and Wal- 
ter Stennett. Barrett became an English master in 1844 and stayed on 
for forty years, eventually becoming first English master and teaching 



science — a lowly subject. Barrett took his BA from the University of 
Toronto, his MA and MD from the same institution, all the while a full- 
time member of the College staff. He was founder and dean of the 
Ontario Medical College for Women and president of the Ontario 
School of Medicine. The Reverend Walter Stennett, an Old Boy, 
became third classical master in 1846 and remained to become the 
fourth principal of the College. 

Barron had only two real worries during his early years as principal. 
Robert Baldwin's first University Bill was brought down in 1843, an( ^ 
though it was not passed, it did not augur well for the future. It embod- 
ied the principle of university freedom from denominational control 
and called for the suppression of Upper Canada College. King's College 
was to disappear in favour of the University of Toronto, a collection of 
four separate universities fed by what Baldwin called Royal Collegiate 
High Schools, ucc was to become one of these, connected with and 
dependent upon the university. It was to be run by a council who made 
their own rules subject to the university Caput. The College's debt 
would be cancelled and it would be given £500 a year. Several more 
university bills were introduced during the next few years, but it was 
not until 1850 that the College's governance was altered. 

The second and more immediate concern with which Barron had to 
deal was boarding. A boarding-school in the middle of a city was some- 
thing requiring much thought, detailed planning, and careful supervi- 
sion. At some English schools, Clifton for example, it worked well. At 
UCC it worked indifferently. The boarding-house was a continual 
expense: the income appears to have gone straight to the housemaster; 
many boys preferred to live with families in town; and altogether it was 
a continual worry to the principal. Barron produced a long, detailed 
memorandum designed to tighten up the boarding finances, but it did 
not prove very effective. The string of housemasters had all been junior 
men, and Barron was concerned about his own responsibility for the 
boarders. A succession of unsatisfactory arrangements had followed 
Kent's departure in 1838, and none of the housemasters was very 
enthusiastic about the obligations entailed. The boarder numbers were 
dropping and Barron feared the boarding-house would die altogether. 



His solution was to divide the house in two, Barron himself to take one 
half and Stennett the other. 

The boarding responsibility must have been a drain on Barron, and 
he had been elected a trustee of the common schools the year before. 
With his principalship and meetings of the King's College Council, he 
had little or no spare time. Nevertheless, UCC continued to keep up a 
high academic standard. 

Classics were still at the core of the curriculum, though not as over- 
whelmingly as in 1830. In the prep form, they occupied about one- 
quarter of the time, with English subjects (which included arithmetic) 
taking up the remainder. In the top form, classics took almost half the 
time, with English, French, and natural philosophy (science) complet- 
ing the curriculum. Just the same, when Lord Elgin visited UCC in 
1847, the students addressed him in Latin. He replied courteously — in 

A sad loss to the College in October 1849 was that of William Rip- 
ley, who died of cholera at the age of thirty-four. While teaching full 
time at UCC he had taken on the ministry of Little Trinity Church 
without pay and had become as well the first schoolmaster of the Enoch 
Turner School, the first free school in Toronto. Ripley was beloved by 
all who knew him, and according to the Church, his funeral was the 
"largest and most respectable we have seen in Toronto."' 6 

Toward the end of the 1840s the provincial system of education 
began to show some improvement. Egerton Ryerson became Superin- 
tendent of Education in 1844, and the School Act of 1846, based on his 
plans, established a foundation for the future structure of Ontario edu- 
cation. The Normal School for the training of young men in the profes- 
sion of school teaching was begun in 1847. 17 Although the grammar 
schools had improved, in the year 1849 more than thirty district gram- 
mar schools produced only eight students for the University of King's 
College; Upper Canada College produced eight that same year.' 8 
Many common schools were still poor. 

Bishop Strachan took note of all this and congratulated the College 
on producing boys who had received a sound education. He urged that 
UCC be kept in a state of efficiency and that anything which lessened its 



usefulness would be a public calamity. He thought it the best grammar 
school on the North American continent and comparable to the great 
(public) schools of England. The Church thought it deserved powerful 
claims on the public confidence. 

The College's academic standing certainly merited public confi- 
dence; its financial standing merited public scrutiny. The Toronto 
Examiner of August 16, 1848, commented on the imposing number of 
prizes presented that year, so large it would take a boy acting as a 
dunce not to win something. The Examiner was curious to see a state- 
ment of the value of the prizes at both UCC and King's College. Attor- 
ney General Robert Baldwin, concerned by a continued agitation over 
the university's financial affairs, suggested a commission to look into the 
financial affairs of both King's College and Upper Canada College. 
Lord Elgin complied, and in July 1848 a commission of inquiry into 
such affairs was authorized. Barron's quiet years had come to an end. 

The Commission of Inquiry into the Affairs of King's College Uni- 
versity and Upper Canada College started work in early August. Given 
three months in which to complete their task, the commissioners were 
still hard at it through the spring of 1851, and the final report — 366 
pages in length — was not published until 1852. 

The commissioners were authorized to examine and report upon the 
financial affairs of the university and the condition of the endowment, 
as well as the financial affairs of UCC as an appendage of the university 
and its endowment. They had quite a task, as the Report immediately 
made plain. 

The account books kept in the [King's] College office were, from the 
very foundation, defective, confused and totally unsuited . . . the com- 
pilers of them being no longer in the service of the University, personal 
explanations . . . were not available. No regular Balance had ever been 
struck. . . . Balancing was quite foreign to the character and structure 
of such books. . . . The Council installed in the office of the Bursar, a 
gentleman, devoid alike of business experience and the knowledge of 
practical book-keeping ... a Cash Book was not found in the institu- 



tion; and the want of it seems to have been unfelt by either the Bursar 
or the Council.' 9 

The entire report is a tale of ignorance, indifference, and incompe- 
tence, leading to chaos. The Upper Canada College accounts were so 
mixed in with the King's College books it was impossible to separate 
them clearly, but some things were clear enough. Fees which should 
have been collected had been allowed to run in arrears and were a total 
loss. 20 Parents, pleading the statute of limitations, owed over £1,700. 
Some of the "best" people in Toronto were sued and finally paid some- 
thing to the College. Two former masters owed large amounts, and 
there had been overpayment or advance payment to other masters. Out 
of rents amounting to £3,170, only £574 had been collected because of 
the Council's negligence. The commissioners concluded that any 
attempt to discover the College's total loss would be fruitless. The only 
bright spot was that there had been some improvement since January I , 
1 844, at which time fees began to be collected in advance and the enrol- 
ment had increased. 

For Barron, 1849 was a nightmare. He wrote continually in the 
most abject terms to Robert Baldwin, the attorney general, lamenting 
the unjust abuse to which he was being subjected, his indebtedness, and 
his inability to save money. When he began taking in boarders, he 
asked Baldwin to say a good word for him "among your wealthier 
friends." 21 The imminent passage of the 1849 Baldwin University Act 
caused him great pain. He was incapable, he wrote, of making any 
preparations for "navigation of the new and unknown sea," 22 and if 
Upper Canada College sank, Baldwin and he would share the 
blame — Baldwin for planning its ruin and Barron for being unable to 
save it. This prospect terrified Barron, who urged Baldwin to preserve 
the College. Ripley's illness and death had made things worse. Barron 
complained that the sick man's form had had no attention, and a boy 
had been removed because of the lack of supervision. Lord Elgin was 
doing nothing about appointing a replacement, but Barron did not 
want someone foisted on him of whom he did not approve. Baldwin was 
keeping him "in exquisite torture" 23 by not filling the vacancy. 



Of the chief matters which were making him uneasy, Barron's fears 
were unjustified. The Baldwin University Act, passed on May 30, 1849, 
came into effect January 1, 1850. Its passage had been made easier by 
the revelations of the Commission of Inquiry, which indicated to 
Baldwin that UCC has suffered a great deal from being too closely con- 
nected with the university and not having enough power to govern 
itself. Baldwin wanted to retain UCC as an appendage, but give it some 
competent method of self-government. The Baldwin University Act 
killed King's College University at the age of seven, and replaced it 
with the secular University of Toronto. As far as UCC was concerned, an 
endowment board for both the university and the College was set up 
which had charge of the property and effects. The principal and mas- 
ters of Upper Canada were to be appointed by the Crown, upon resolu- 
tion of the university senate, and the principal had to make an annual 
report to a College Council consisting of the principal himself, four 
masters, and four others appointed by the Crown. Everything had to be 
approved by the University Caput. There was no religious qualification 
for masters. The College's original endowment was left in its own 
hands. Finally, the debt owed by the College to the university was can- 

In the matter of Ripley's replacement, Barron felt invigorated when 
after six weeks' wait he got the news. Well he might! The new master 
joining him in January 1850 was William Wedd, head boy of 1843, MA 
King's College, Toronto, returning as third classical master to his old 
school. He was, in later life, considered the best classical scholar of his 
day. When he left university, Wedd joined the law office of W. H. 
Blake, later chancellor of Upper Canada. He had tutored Blake's two 
sons while at university, and evidently teaching suited him better than 

Wedd's appointment, an enormously beneficial one for the College, 
was also important in another way. For twenty years all the College 
positions of power and prestige — principal, vice-principal, classical 
masters, and mathematical master — had, with the exception of Bar- 
ron's "emergency" appointment, been filled by Church of England cler- 
gymen. One of the "lower" positions had even been held by the 



Reverend John Kent for six years. Wedd's arrival was a breakthrough. 
Anglican clerics continued to be appointed from time to time, but after 
Wedd, laymen were the rule. (Coincidentally the secularization of the 
university and the College began the same day.) The fact that Wedd 
was educated in Canada was another benefit, though the consideration 
of Canadians per se in preference to Englishmen, other things being 
equal, took a longer time to come to fruition. 

Barron and the College were now launched on new seas, and poor 
Barron steered his ship morosely into them. Finances were going to be 
tight and strictly watched. He deplored the position of the College, 
which he reckoned had a maximum income of £2,500, with expendi- 
tures of £3,500, and no King's College endowment to make up the 
difference. Furthermore, masters' salaries were listed as the fifth charge 
on the income. He had no private time and worked on College affairs 
until after nine o'clock every night. To top it off, he was not invited to 
be a member of the new university senate, and had yet another body 
called the Board of Visitation, under W. H. Blake, keeping an eye on 
the College. There were now three committees with interlocking mem- 
berships overseeing UCC's destiny. 

In spite of all these troubles, at the end of his first year under the 
new regime, Barron was feeling better. He had added natural philoso- 
phy and physical geography to the academic courses and had intro- 
duced ornamental drawing, vocal and instrumental music, and a 
commercial course intended to prepare students solely for a life in com- 
merce. There was little turnover in the competent faculty, who now 
numbered twelve. The biggest change was in the boarding-house, 
which was now called the Resident School House. Barron reported with 
some optimism that things were going well, but the facts do not bear 
him out. 

Boarding had continued to be a problem, and Barron had been 
ordered to draw up a plan for its satisfactory conduct. This plan had 
gone into effect in September 1850. Boarding fees no longer went to a 
housemaster, and the rules called for all out-of-town boys to live in — a 
new departure, and one which evoked considerable opposition. Any 
pupils living with masters had to follow the same rules as those in the 



boarding-house. 24 Each boy had a separate sleeping apartment, and 
there were hot baths for all. Three more servants (men) were added, 
and a yard was fenced in. The main problem was to get a master to live 
in, and school had had to open without one. The College Council, in a 
makeshift arrangement, had asked each master to act as housemaster 
for a week at a time. It then asked the first English master — Barrett — if 
he would become the housemaster. Barrett wanted to know how much 
he would be paid, and threatened to resign if forced. Although Barron 
could offer only a house, heat, and light, Barrett did move in and 
reported a few weeks later that "he was as miserable as could be." 25 

The Committee of Visitation had mixed feelings about the Resident 
School House. The kitchen was clean, the stove was bad, the food 
good (except for sour bread). Some dormitories were a "pattern of 
neatness," 26 others were slovenly. More washtubs were needed, because 
two or three boys bathed together. The committee's report dealt with 
Barrett's ceaseless moaning by saying that he did not know his job. 
When he asked for a reception room for visiting parents and friends, he 
was turned down. 

The expenses of boarding were high, and Barron was forced to apol- 
ogize for them to the College Council. He was adamantly opposed, 
however, to returning to either earlier arrangement: boys in town or the 
boarding-house run for individual gain. He reported that since the new 
arrangement the "tongue of calumny [was] silenced," 27 a state of grace 
never before attained. His meaning was not clear, and the attendance 
figures raised the question of the boarding demand: the average enrol- 
ment for the past four terms had been twelve. Exhausted by his report, 
Barron asked for his first two days off in seventeen years. His request 
was granted. 

While the energies of Barron and others were so largely taken up by 
the boarding arrangements, the new University of Toronto was under 
way. It had a staff of seven, a budget of £5,000, and a tutorial system 
under which a class size of thirty was held to be large. The first year 
Arts class numbered 68, of whom 33 had matriculated. It is not known 
exactly how many were from UCC, but probably about 25 per cent. In 
January 1852 Trinity College began, and 1 1 out of the first 40 students 



entering were College boys. For the next fifteen years, the College's per- 
centage of students entering Trinity averaged about 25 per cent. 

New legislation, revising to some extent the Baldwin University Act, 
went into effect in April 1853. Besides bringing into existence Univer- 
sity College as an entity separate from the University of Toronto, it was 
intended to improve UCC's management. The Committees of 1849 to 
1852 were dissolved, and the University of Toronto Senate undertook to 
make the statutes for the College's governance. The senate had to make 
an annual report; all property was vested in the Crown, and managed 
under the direction of the Governor-in-Council. Francis Hincks, the 
inspector-general, drew the senate's attention to the general state of the 
College and wondered whether it might not be possible to effect a real 
reduction in its expenditure. 

A reduction in expenditure meant a reduction in salaries. A statute 
was drawn up for a new salary schedule which saved about £130 on a 
salary budget of £2,400, a considerable reduction from the heady 1843 
total of £3,100. In spite of this tight financial situation, Barron sug- 
gested adding an elocution master to the faculty. 

Barron was in an unenviable position. The days of spending King's 
College money were gone forever; the budget scarcely balanced, and 
the faculty felt the cold hand of economy everywhere. The boarding- 
house had not been a success, to say the least, and the school could not 
afford to add new courses to attract more pupils. Everything was closely 
watched. Barron even had to write to the Governor General for permis- 
sion to deal with an unmanageable servant. For over five years Barron 
had felt harrassed to the point of lunacy. The Commission of Inquiry, 
the university question, Ripley's replacement, the boarding difficulties, 
the delicate finances, the faculty pressure regarding salaries, the second 
change in the governing body, all had taken their toll. 

These difficulties were but the prelude to his most trying test. A situ- 
ation arose in 1854, the seeds of which had been planted sixteen years 
before and against which, if Barron had been a different kind of man, 
he might have taken preventive action long before. 28 

As mentioned before, the Reverend George Maynard, now aged 
forty-eight, classicist, mathematician, and violinist, had served as a 



master at the College for seventeen years. In 1838 he had moved from 
second classical master to take over the mathematics department from 
Charles Dade. The following year he had had disciplinary trouble with 
several boys, one of whom had been expelled for striking Maynard. In 
1843 he and Barron had both applied to be first classical master while 
Mathews was acting-principal. Barron had won, and almost immedi- 
ately afterwards had been appointed principal. Maynard had flown 
into a rage and had twisted the facts in an angry letter to the King's 
College Council. Then in 1847, a boy named Elmer had been expelled 
for striking Maynard "in the performance of his duty," 29 his duty evi- 
dently being to strike Elmer. Elmer had apologized, while claiming 
much provocation, and had applied for readmission because of May- 
nard's attitude towards him and his blacksmith father. Readmission 
had been denied. Maynard had then asked for an extra month's leave 
but had not returned for nearly six, offering a medical explanation for 
his prolonged absence. In 1850 Maynard and Wedd (who later became 
his son-in-law) had had a disagreement about who should move into 
one of the masters' houses. In 1854 Maynard's controversies reached a 

The events of the 1854 Maynard-Barron scandal began with a 
Denison family accident. Two brothers, both UCC students — Charles 
and John Denison — were playing with a hunting rifle, and Charles shot 
John dead. Charles became so upset the doctors thought he might lose 
his reason. The boy's father warned the principal that no allusion must 
be made to the accident. Before Christmas, Mr. Denison died, and 
Charles stayed home. Maynard, who must have known of the father's 
death, asked Charles for an explanation of his absence. When one was 
not immediately forthcoming, Maynard threatened the boy, saying, "I 
suppose you have been shooting again," or something of the sort. The 
boy burst into tears and rushed home. His mother refused to let him 
return to UCC without a guarantee that he could skip Maynard's 
classes. George Denison, now the household head, demanded an investi- 
gation by writing to the Governor General, claiming Maynard was 
unfit to teach. Barron supported Denison, saying much of his time was 
taken up in settling problems caused by Maynard and suggesting that 



Maynard be fired. The prescribed course was taken: a commission to 
inquire into the state of UCC was appointed. 

The case became complicated by the entry into the fray of two other 
College families named Robarts and Stayner. Robarts, a College audi- 
tor, had four sons at UCC. When the news of Denison's situation reached 
him, he also asked Barron to allow his sons not to attend Maynard's 
classes because of that master's sneering, insulting manner. When Bar- 
ron refused, Robarts withdrew his sons. The third parent, Stayner, 
whose son Larry had just been expelled by Barron for various offences, 
wrote to Robarts supporting his views on Maynard and adding that 
other departments of the College were just as bad. He, too, rallied 
parental support. 

Maynard's response to his accusers was in the classic Maynard 
manner: nine pages of arrogant self-justification. He claimed that 
Robarts was totally at fault, and that Principal Barron's relationships 
with parents were much worse than his own. The real trouble, he said, 
was Barron's apathy towards his mathematics department, a subject on 
which he intended to write separately. 

At this critical juncture W. H. Blake, who had been asked to chair a 
three-man investigative committee, refused to do so. The senate of the 
university, therefore, conducted the investigation. Blake was frequently 
present and signed the final report. 

The affair began as a two-ring circus. In the first ring, Barron 
defended himself against Stayner with some dignity, despite a heated 
exchange of letters. The masters, alarmed by rumours and newspaper 
articles flying around the town, sent Barron a strongly supportive letter 
urging on the investigation in order to clear the school's name. Bishop 
Strachan, who had a more intimate connection with UCC than anyone 
in Canada, stood squarely behind Barron; he intended to send his 
grandsons to the College and inveighed against ignorant and foolish 
parents. John Beverley Robinson, along with scores of parents and Old 
Boys, wrote in warmly supporting Barron. "It is rather late in the day 
to discover your incompetence," wrote a parent. "Where has young 
Canada been educated? Who . . . are . . . taking the lead in every walk of 
life? The Alumni of Upper Canada College." Because it took so long for 



the complex investigation to run its course, the decision on Larry Stay- 
ner was delayed. Stayner wrote a year later to the Governor General 
declaring his disgust with the entire proceedings. 

The second ring of the circus had two acts — Robarts against May- 
nard and Denison against Maynard. Robarts had complaints going 
back three years, at which time Barron had taken on one of his sons as a 
private pupil to get him away from Maynard. Many witnesses were 
called, most of them, including Scadding and Wedd, supporting the 
boys, though Maynard was not without allies. But it was in the Deni- 
son-Maynard battle that the fireworks were the loudest and brightest; 
out of it came an incident which pitted Barron against Maynard and 
brought the College almost to its knees. The investigation had moved 
into 1855 when Barron, Denison, and Maynard met in Barron's office. 
Barron had called the meeting apparently to act as peacemaker, but 
with both the other men at flash-point, he found himself in the middle 
of a fracas. According to Barron, Maynard blamed the Denison boy's 
conduct on pernicious influences at home. Denison flew into a rage and 
attacked Maynard, calling him a disgrace to the cloth and a god-dam- 
ned scoundrel, and threatening to knock his head off his shoulders. Bar- 
ron intervened and took a terrific blow on the side of the head — a blow 
which he later described as either "straight or in a curve." Maynard 
brought Denison into court on a charge of assault, for which Denison 
was fined five shillings and costs. Barron was a reluctant witness and 
stated that he would not believe Maynard under oath in any matter in 
which he was personally concerned. 30 

This accusation sent Maynard into a further frenzy, causing him to 
charge Barron officially with mismanagement, culpable neglect, and 
absenting himself from his classes. Maynard issued a clarion call for a 
searching inquiry into Barron. Barron, who might well have been 
exhausted by then, courageously counter-attacked by charging May- 
nard with sending boys to his room to spy upon him and keep a record 
of his doings. He, too, wanted an investigation and was staking his rep- 
utation on it. 

A host of witnesses was called. Many said Maynard was unfit to 
teach; some said it was characteristic of him to hit pupils over the head 



and face with his cane. 3 ' Former principal John McCaul was quoted as 
telling Maynard he was more trouble than all the other masters and 
pupils together. Maynard was not without supporters all the same, and 
it came out that the Robarts boys had previously been expelled from 
grammar school. Many boys said Maynard was no different from the 
other masters. 

The evidence about Barron's neglect of duty was two-sided. Many 
witnesses— students and Old Boys — said he was a fine teacher, but they 
admitted that he was away from class a great deal on other College 
business, with the result that their studies suffered. Some of his col- 
leagues relectantly agreed with this sentiment, adding that he was not 
always judicious. Barron came out of the ordeal, however, more sinned 
against than sinning. 

In June 1855 the sordid story came to an end. It had occupied the 
university senate during forty-two sittings, and 108 witnesses had been 
called. The charges laid by Denison, Robarts, and Stayner did not jus- 
tify the removal of either Barron or Maynard. But the charges laid by 
the masters against one another were of a different kind. Maynard was 
dismissed, with one year's salary. 32 Barron was severely censured for 
allowing so much of his teaching time to be so taken up by other duties. 

As a result of this bizarre incident, the senate drew up a statute for 
the better governance of UCC, the first of many over the next thirty 
years. It established a committee of three senate members chosen annu- 
ally to supervise the College: the principal and masters were subject to 
its control. 

During the eighteen months of the investigation, not much energy 
had been left over for attention to administration, but the College con- 
tinued on a precarious economic ledge. Twice the masters had asked for 
salary raises but were refused in view of the fact that the Governor Gen- 
eral had specifically requested an investigation into methods of cutting 
expenses. The same statute which ended the Maynard affair called for 
no salary increases. The university senate was in a quandary, still pay- 
ing the price of Colborne's extravagance twenty-five years previously. 
At that time the salaries had been princely, but in the interim, prices 
had more than doubled while the salaries had remained essentially 



unchanged. The masters now considered themselves underpaid, and 
Barron himself asked for a 25-per-cent raise. The Governor General 
said only the senate had the power to raise salaries, and the senate said 
it had no source of supply. 

The College's human problems in the early 1850s were accompa- 
nied by others related to the physical plant, now twenty-three years old. 
Architects Cumberland and Storm produced a devastating report in 
1853, listing leaky roofs and uninhabitable rooms; dilapidated fences, 
steps, and internal staircases; insufficient drainage, caused by deterio- 
rated cesspools with unservicable outlets, resulting in stagnant, offensive 
water; and houses wholly unfit for the masters. The work, estimated at 
£1,250, could just be afforded, and so was approved. To the senate's 
consternation, the final bill was over £3,800. The architects were par- 
tially paid and severely rebuked. 

Despite the protracted public scrutiny and scandal, the enrolment 
at UCC climbed slowly in the early fifties, and after the Maynard affair 
ended, it jumped to about 250. Numbers ranged from three in the top 
form to sixty in the preparatory form. There were thirteen religious 
groups represented, but 68 per cent were Church of England. 33 The 
next largest group, the Church of Scotland, had twenty-six adherents. It 
is clear that the Anglican image with which the College began was still 
strongly in evidence. 

Meanwhile, the early fifties saw the provincial system, under Ryer- 
son's tireless goading, continue to come out of its long slumber. The 
Common School Act of 1850, a sort of charter act of the Ontario system, 
laid down the principle that free schools were basic to a healthy society 
and pointed the way to the 1871 Act which established the high schools. 
There was bound to be a lag between legislation and action, with the 
result that improvement in elementary and secondary education during 
this period was slow and uncertain. The grammar-school inspector's 
report of 1855 showed 36 grammar schools: 9 out of operation with no 
teachers, 4 bad, 10 fair, 7 tolerable, and 6 good. The highest headmas- 
ter's salary was $1,200 (£300), the average was $680 (£170). Thirteen 
out of twenty-seven headmasters now had university degrees. Com- 
mon-school salaries ranged from $350 to $60 per annum for males. 



There were also 174 private schools, accommodating over 3,800 pupils. 
Towards the end of 1856 Ryerson was recommending a model gram- 
mar school. The winds of competition were blowing colder around UCC. 

Barron's immediate task was to secure a replacement for Maynard. 
Seventeen applications were received; the chosen man, recommended 
by Chancellor Blake, was James Brown. Brown was an Old Boy, gold 
medallist in mathematics at the University of Toronto, with more than 
a year's teaching experience at the Toronto Grammar School. He 
joined the College in January 1856, 34 just as two stalwarts, Howard and 
De la Haye, were about to leave. Neither man was old, but between 
them they had served the College for fifty years. They probably sensed 
that Barron's regime was coming to an end and neither wanted to 
adapt to new ways. 

In May 1856 Chancellor Blake gave notice of introducing another 
in a series of statutes for the better government of the College. The same 
month a worn-out Barron offered to resign for a retiring allowance of 
£250 a year and salary paid through September. A statute was immedi- 
ately introduced approving these arrangements. In a fit of exuberance 
celebrating their release from the horrors of 1854 and 1855, the senate 
approved a retirement allowance of £150 per annum for De la Haye, an 
enlarged boarding-house, an enlarged playground, racket courts for the 
boys' exercise and amusement, a new £45 fee for boarders, and a rule 
that the new principal was to be in charge of the Resident School 

July saw Barron's last appearance with the university senate. At 
almost the same time, W. H. Blake resigned as university chancellor. 
During the senate investigation Blake had been very critical of Barron 
for leaving his teaching duties so often. Later Egerton Ryerson said Bar- 
ron resigned because of harsh words spoken to him by Blake. Whatever 
the truth, Barron's usefulness had come to an end. Strachan wrote to 
him congratulating him on escaping from "the House of Bondage." 35 

Barron's career at UCC was an example of the modern Peter Princi- 
ple. His appointment to the staff in 1834 would probably never have 
taken place except for an emergency. Maynard's transfer to mathemat- 
ics in 1838 opened the classical department to him. Mathews' sudden 



departure in 1843 left him as senior classics man. His appointment to 
the principalship was made almost absentmindedly by the Governor 
General. Barron was a bluff, hearty, decent man, a great athlete, but no 
great scholar, and an indecisive, disorganized administrator. Events 
overtook him, but he never lost his honour, and he left behind the 
nucleus of a stable, distinguished staff — Scadding, Wedd, Brown, and 

With Barron gone, for the third time the College was without a 
head while the government and the university senate vacillated about 
an appointment. For the third time the first classical master — in this 
instance, Henry Scadding — became acting-principal. The senate began 
by looking across the ocean, where an Oxford man caught its eye. After 
due thought, however, he took a headmaster's post elsewhere, not want- 
ing the boarding responsibility that went with the principalship. The 
senate was deeply offended. They did not want to pay another man to 
oversee the boarding and thought that their salary offer — £500, plus a 
house and a share of the fees — put the position on a par with the highest 
professional incomes in the province. Then the senate re-thought its 
position: an eminent scholar from Europe was not necessary; if an 
Ontarian had the qualifications, he should have preference. They 
finally decided that the UCC principal should have £600 per year (Har- 
ris's 1830 salary), a house, a proportion of the tuition fees, and £2 per 
annum for each boarder; he should be responsible for boarder discipline 
but not boarder economics. 

During this interregnum period several developments took place at 
the College. Along with a new study, a new dining hall, and other 
improvements, the boarding-house was expanded. Architects Cumber- 
land and Storm again were awarded the contract and again ran far 
over tender, their excuse being the advanced stage of decay in the joists 
and other important timber work — a frequent refrain in UCC history. 

Some time during the winter of 1856-57, Scadding applied for the 
principalship, but then, disillusioned by administrative duties, he with- 
drew. The next senior classical master was the Reverend Walter Sten- 
nett, a severe, unbending man, not modest about his own abilities. 
Despite evident dissatisfaction with things as they were, or perhaps 



because of it, Stennett applied for the vacant headship, and on April 8, 
1857, became ucc's fourth principal. Stennett was thirty-six, the third 
Anglican clergyman to be principal (the last one for ninety-two years), 
and the first Canadian in the position. He was born in Kingston, the 
son of a renowned Canadian silversmith. Like Harris and McCaul he 
had done very well in classics at university, in his case King's College, 

His appointment came none too soon. The Globe had just issued a 
strident call for common sense in the College's management. Both the 
university senate and the government came in for stinging rebuke: what 
was the use of the senate saying that the principal should maintain dis- 
cipline, if there was no principal? Stennett's engagement was somewhat 
disappointing to the Globe, which felt that the post should have been 
open to competition. Stennett was a good teacher and a good discipli- 
narian, but the paper feared he might be too strict and old-fashioned: 
UCC needed to adopt modern ideas. The Daily Leader was more enthusi- 
astic; it had supported Scadding, about whom none could say an 
unkind word, but he was no disciplinarian and everyone knew it. The 
Leader applauded Stennett's appointment. 

No doubt haunted by accusations of past mismanagement, the sen- 
ate scrutinized every detail of the College for the next few years. Sten- 
nett's principalship, the shortest in UCC's history, was marked by a 
string of senate statutes on fees, salaries, 56 exhibitions, boarding, and 

Two interesting appointments were made during Stennett's time, 
one of which did not need senate approval, one of which did. When he 
was promoted to principal, Stennett recommended William Wedd to 
replace him as second classical master, leaving an opening which was 
filled by George Mountain Evans. Evans, a Trinity College MA, had 
been headmaster of the Simcoe Grammar School for four years and was 
an able teacher. He stayed at UCC for only three years, but while he was 
there the five top teaching jobs, for the first and last time, were all filled 
by Old Boys — Stennett, Scadding, Brown, W T edd, and Evans. The sec- 
ond appointment was that of an English classical master, to modern 
ears a contradiction in terms. The "higher" branches of English were 



taught at that time by the classical masters, but the senate wanted a 
specialist to work with Wedd and Evans in order to create greater 
efficiency in that department. The roadblock was money. The appoint- 
ment could not be made until the accounts were inspected. 

After focusing intently on the land endowment, the senate commit- 
tee concluded that the new master could be appointed only if part of 
the College playground along King Street was sold. For this purpose a 
surveyor was procured and thirteen or fourteen lots were measured off 
from John Street, 120 feet deep. The posts showing the size of each lot 
were put in and the proposal was made ready for publication. Two 
acres remained in which the boys could "gallop." 37 

Pleased with their idea, the senate established the English classical 
mastership and advertised for candidates. Their commitment was 
unfortunate because they had reckoned without the boys, who took 
double-edged action. Coincident with consideration of the new master 
and the sale of the playground, a group of students led by the fifteen- 
year-old John Ross Robertson, developed an interest in printing. When 
school started in September, there appeared the first issue of what was 
to become one of the most enduring of ucc institutions — The College 
Times. No copy of this first issue still exists, but it contained an article 
criticizing the authorities for selling the playground. Stennett sternly 
forbade further publication, thereby whetting public appetite. Robert- 
son changed the name to the Monthly Times, a feeble disguise, and sold 
twice as many copies outside the school gates. 

The second part of the protest was a public meeting held in the 
Prayer Room, where a group of boys, with Robertson among the lead- 
ers, assembled to discuss the planned desecration of the playground. 

After the matter had been debated for over an hour and all sorts of 
proposals made, Robertson suggested that they should appeal to the 
fountain head, the governor-general, who lived across the street. Tom 
Reid, from Halifax, backed up the proposition, and subsequently a 
delegation of the boys presented a petition to Sir Edmund Head. He 
sympathized with the boys, and much to the vexation of some of the 



authorities, an end was put to the sale, whereupon the boys made a 
huge bonfire of the posts, and that ended the incident. 38 

There were several applicants for the position of English classical 
master, and C. W. Connon, 39 LL D Aberdeen University, was selected to 
join the staff in January 1858. On Connon's arrival another statute was 
passed forbidding him and future appointees from moonlighting with- 
out the senate's permission. 

Enrolment during Stennett's brief regime displayed remarkable 
bounce. There were hardly any boarders before the residence was refur- 
bished, almost fifty afterwards. The day boys leaped from 237 to 293, 
then collapsed to 201 in i860, Stennett's year of troubles. Despite these 
extraordinary changes, the finances remained relatively stable, receipts 
and expenditures just about in balance. 

Meanwhile the chief development in the provincial educational sys- 
tem was the opening in August 1858 of the Model Grammar School 
with George R. R. Cockburn at the helm. Two years previously Ryer- 
son had strongly urged the government to turn the College itself into a 
model school, but Attorney General John A. Macdonald had disagreed, 
preferring two quite distinct schools which would give the public a 
choice. The Model Grammar School was intended to illustrate the best 
way of teaching the subjects required by law to be taught in the classi- 
cal grammar schools, particularly classics and mathematics. Ryerson 
had worked hard to bring a model school into being. His failure to con- 
vert ucc into the Model Grammar School caused him to hold the Col- 
lege up to some reprobation. He argued that it had performed a 
necessary service at first but that for twenty years Upper Canada had 
been simply a grammar school — peculiarly privileged to include com- 
mon school work, but badly managed for a long time, and enormously 
expensive. Moreover, said Ryerson, successful Old Boys owed more to 
home influence than to the College's, and other grammar schools won 
more than their share of scholarships 40 and first-class matriculation 
honours vis-a-vis UCC. 

Perhaps spurred by Ryerson's remarks, the senate committee 
responsible for College affairs produced a report with which Stennett 



disagreed. The report said that out of two hundred boys at UCC no more 
than five or six intended going to university; a disproportionate amount 
of time was monopolized by the small number of boys in the seventh 
form and it should be abolished. University preparation would be kept 
alive in the fifth and sixth forms. If the number of forms were reduced, 
the mass of boys could be better looked after. The report noted a fall-off 
in enrolment and a deficit of over four thousand dollars for 1859. Last- 
ly, corporal punishment was to be abolished and replaced by demerit 
marks and detentions. 

Stennett digested this report before coming out flatly in February 
i860 with a threat of resignation. There followed for the next three 
months an unfriendly exchange. Stennett said it was unfair to expect 
him to carry on when circumstances had changed so much since his 
appointment; not only that, but discipline and curriculum changes had 
been made in opposition to his wishes. The senate responded that it had 
waited for him to reform the College and he had not done so. Corporal 
punishment had become so excessive that boys were indifferent, and all 
idea of disgrace was removed. Stennett, the senate alleged, had done 
nothing about this, while other schools had; UCC should have set an 
example. The second problem which Stennett had not dealt with was 
the distribution of boys by forms. The first classical master spent fifty- 
five hours per week with ten or eleven boys. The most valuable men 
were teaching very few boys, while the mass of pupils were making 
inadequate progress. Most boys did not go beyond the fourth form. The 
more reasonable the committee was, the more unreasonable Stennett 
became. He eventually agreed, however, to the new plans and withheld 
his resignation. 

While Stennett was wrangling with the senate about the administra- 
tion of the College, chilly financial breezes were blowing. Stennett's 
share of the boarding-house fees were suspended depending upon any 
surplus after all other expenses were paid; the same applied to the resi- 
dent housemaster. These constraints had to be applied because, as usu- 
al, the College was spending more than it took in. In May the long-time 
four-thousand-dollar grant from the government was suddenly cut off, 
with no hope held out of further financial aid. UCC was advised to cut 



its expenses and depend on its endowment and its tuition fees. This 
move, a cause of great embarrassment and consternation to UCG, was 
unexplained. (Perhaps it was about time, after thirty years, that the 
College stood on its own financial feet.) Stennett immediately asked for 
four months' leave on grounds of health, bequeathing the school to 

The loss of four thousand dollars had a massive impact on College 
life. A statute was brought in raising the day-boy fee to forty dollars; the 
fee payable by boarders to the principal was entirely abolished; the 
classical and English departments were reduced to two men each; pen- 
sions and salaries were reduced. When he returned, Stennett resigned a 
second time, then changed his mind and pleaded with the senate to 
allow him to take in boarders. The plea was denied. 

Through the winter Stennett dragged his feet on the matter of class 
division. It had become evident that he could no longer work under the 
supervision of a senate committee he despised, and his departure was 
simply a question of time. He finally resigned as of June I, 1861. It was 
obvious to him that the senate was to blame for the College's ills: their 
decisions were made in the interests of the university, and he had only 
the shadow of authority. He had had a severe nervous attack brought 
on by anxiety, his health was broken, and he wanted a retiring allow- 
ance. He was awarded two years' salary. 

Stennett had taken over the College at a critical juncture, which 
called for a man of special talents. Stennett was not the man: he was too 
stiff and inflexible, and educationally he looked backwards rather than 
forwards. It is true that the proliferation of statutes and the constant 
supervision of the senate committee were difficult for a principal of any 
independence to accept. Still, a man of different temperament might 
have been able to cope. 4 ' Stennett, like Barron, had not been first 
choice for principal, but he had been well known and available, and 
ambition had carried him into a position he was incapable of handling. 
His departure 42 brought the end of an era in the College's history, an 
era of great expansion, plagued by inept administration, endless finan- 
cial problems, and political hostility. 

The College was put into the hands of a triumvirate — Scadding, 



Wedd, and Brown — who had really been running things for the last six 
months anyway. As always the College was saved in the end by men 
like these and Barrett and Thompson, men who liked teaching, liked 
the boys, taught well, and got on with the job. 



School Life 
in the Forties and Fifties 

ADESCRiPTlONOFCOLLEGELlFEin the eighteen-forties and 
fifties is available in two or three letters, some diary entries, and a 
handful of board minutes. Life was tougher for the boys than it is 
now, but they were interested in much the same things as today's stu- 
dents are. There was the usual mixture of the serious and the ludicrous, 
but the passage of time has softened the difference between the two. 

Each day would begin the same way — in the prayer room. The 
masters sat at the north end, the odd-numbered forms and the commer- 
cial form on the west side, the even-numbered and the preparatory on 
the east. School started at nine. Years later an Old Boy of the time 
described the atmosphere: 

There were six or seven boys who acted as monitors. Of these two 
walked up and down the entire length of the room until the Principal 
entered. One monitor then called the roll and another wrote on a slate 
the names of all absentees. While this was being done, if a master 
entered, he would touch his mortar board to the Principal. All the 
masters were supposed to be in by the end of roll call. After prayers 
the two monitors would go down to the centre of the room, one would 
remain there and the other stood at the door to preserve order as the 
boys retired, form by form. 

Except for roll call, the next century saw little change. 
The masters seated at the north end of the room were a varied lot, 
as teachers have always been, ucc has made a specialty of variety, and 



the quirks of the men of the forties and fifties were seen pretty clearly by 
the boys. No first-hand evidence remains of what the boys thought of 
their instructors, but the reminiscences of several Old Boys, F. E. Dixon, 
Elmes Henderson, and John Ross Robertson among them, remain. The 
sketches which follow are impressions of two or more old students recol- 
lected forty to eighty years later. 

Mr. Barron, the principal, was a remarkable man, strict in his disci- 
pline and a little quick-tempered. He had a horror of anything 
approaching deceit on the part of the boys. He was a fine classical 
scholar and his weekly reviews of the students were excellent. He was 
most painstaking and conscientious in his teaching, and the boys were 
very well grounded. Though not tall, he was very powerful, and an 
excellent all-round athlete. He was a splendid boxer and had no objec- 
tion to boys fighting out their differences, provided they fought fair and 
did not hold a grudge afterwards. As a fencer, he had no equal among 
all old Colonel Goodwin's pupils. He could sing a good song, and under 
his instruction some of the boys sang in St. George's Church choir. He 
was a famous amateur yachtsman, and in company with his friend Dr. 
Hodder used to spend many an afternoon cruising around the lake. In 
winter when he appeared on the bay with his skates, there were few 
who could equal him in cutting figures on the ice. 

Then there was "dear old Dr. Scadding," who was universally 
respected during his long term of office. From one or two stories that 
have been handed down, it might appear that Dr. Scadding was not a 
strict disciplinarian. This judgment would be accurate. On one occa- 
sion when he was out of his classroom there was a general melee and his 
rubbers, which had been called into requisition as missiles, were shot 
into the open fireplace, which was then the only means of heating the 
room. His business with the principal delaying his return, the boys had 
time to dispatch a deputation to a shop to buy him another pair. 
Another time when he came into his room he found it apparently emp- 
ty, the large woodbox and cupboards containing the boys who ought to 
have been in their places on the benches. On the other hand, no master 
has been more deeply beloved and probably none wielded a wider, 
deeper influence. 



Mr. Wedd, lovingly called "Billy," was also an excellent master and 
a great favourite with all the boys. During the Crimean War he pleased 
the boys greatly by reading out and discussing news of the battles and 
commenting on them. In the classroom he especially tried to interest 
the younger pupils in the subject-matter under study, and seldom failed 
to impress even an idler that the matter was well worth studying. Wedd 
would invariably question the boys next day as to how the principal 
had treated this or that point. If they happened to be in harmony he 
would remark: "Well, boys, it only shows that two sensible men, think- 
ing of the same thing, will come to a similar conclusion." 

Dr. Barrett was an easy-going master, and his lessons in geography 
and arithmetic were sometimes farcical. A feature in his day was map- 
drawing and inspection of slates. Some of the boys put down on their 
slates sums learned by heart — the same sum every day — and were not 
detected. Barrett had a room with an open fireplace, and in the winter 
he always left his door open for five minutes before morning prayers so 
that the boys could go in and warm themselves. He often used to enter- 
tain the boys with anecdotes about a trip he had taken to St. Petersburg 
when he was a boy. He also had a curious habit of constantly and 
loudly cracking the knuckles of each hand, and the boys wondered how 
he did it. Despite these eccentricities, he seems to have been a compe- 
tent teacher. 

At one time Mr. Maynard was away for two or three months on a 
trip to England, and his place was taken by an ex-pupil. In every era, 
students have been able to spot weaknesses in untried teachers. It is in 
their nature to take advantage of such weaknesses until the teacher 
either learns the ropes or deserts the profession. Though an able mathe- 
matician, the young man was sadly deficient in administrative capacity 
and had no control whatever over the boys, who pelted him unmerci- 
fully with peas. Another favourite instrument of torture was a spool 
with a quill stuck in one end of it, while in the other end a piece of stick 
was inserted, with a bit of India rubber tied round it like a catapult. 
When filled with small shot and discharged on a person's face, it was a 
most diabolical invention. One afternoon, when the boys had been 
more daring in their attacks than usual, the poor man could stand it no 



longer, and actually burst into tears and got up from his chair to leave. 
Before he had time to get away, however, an older boy followed him 
and, putting his arm around him, led him back to his chair again. 

Health was a problem that confronted masters and boys alike. 
Almost from the beginning, the College authorities were haunted by the 
threat of some kind of epidemic, a threat made worse by the lack of an 
isolation hospital. The College survived the cholera of the thirties. In 
1842 McCaul had to inform the King's College Council that scarlet 
fever had smitten the boarding-house and that on the advice of "three 
medical gentlemen" 1 he was closing early for the Christmas holidays. 
The same thing happened in 1844; one of the boys died, and Barron 
closed the school in late November. From the students' point of view 
this sounded wonderful, but an enormous amount of work must have 
been missed. Barron recommended a small isolation hospital, but it was 
a long time in coming. It was cheaper to close the school. 

The boys themselves treated illness much as boys have always done: 
calmly and matter-of-factly. In 1849 fifteen-year-old Edmund Morris 
wrote to "Dear Mama" in Brockville about his older brother James: 

I saw him on Friday, he is much better, that is, of the inflammation 
but he has about half a dozen (biles) or boils, which are very painful 
and what makes them more troublesome he cannot sit up but has to 
lay in bed he has them in rather an awkward place, he looks much 
better. . . . There are no simptons of Scarlet fever whatever in the Col- 
lege when there is I will let you know. You need not be in the least 
alarmed about James. . . . Mrs. Stennitt takes much more interest in 
the boys' comfort than Mrs. Cousins did, when the boys are sick they 
get gruel now instead of bone broth . . . and when they have a head- 
ache she lends them her bottle of salts. 

Aside from health, the concerns of boarding life centred around the 
eternals: the passage of time, food, clothing, work, and girls. Young 
Morris continued, "the way the weeks and days go past here is a cau- 
tion . . . they never did when I was at home. I . . . am much obliged to 
you for the drawers and to Janet for the cake. I have not yet tried the 



drawers on, they look small. ..." Morris's bed was warm enough, as he 
had six blankets and a quilt. His food "was as good as one could wish." 2 

Frederick Hutt, a thirteen-year-old from Stamford, evidently 
boarded in the town. He wrote in 1847 to his brother John, "Tell 
Mama that my reason for finding fault about the meals and boarding is 
a good one and if you do not believe it ask the Rykerts, they complain 
as much as I do. ... I hope you will send plenty of nuts and cakes as I 
can hardly subsist on what we get." Despite the shortcomings of the 
food, Hutt liked his College life very well. A long line of principals 
would have beamed over the boy's prediction "that I will have a very 
good character to bring home with me at Christmas I have learnt more 
since I have been over here than I did all the time at Hubbards 
school. "3 

Richard Birdsall entered UCC in 1853 at the age of sixteen. He was 
a great athlete and reported to be the best chess player in Canada, 
inventor of Birdsall's gambit. He was evidently a serious student; at any 
rate his letters to his guardian concentrate on his academic progress (as 
well as business-like references to his finances): 

I am not head in any of my classes yet, but I have got up pretty near 
the head in most of them. There are fifteen boys in my "form" six or 
seven of them very seldom miss a question so it is no very easy matter 
to get "head". I have been second for two weeks on one class & have 
not missed a question, the head boy has not missed any questions 
either so I can't get above him 'till he does. 

It gives me as much as I can do to learn all my lessons I sit up 'till 
half past ten, & get up at five, it will be easier for me after a month or 
two, for I am a little behind in some things & have to get extra lessons. 

Birdsall also lived in town, at 36 Victoria Street, but mentioned 
"seven or eight vacancies at the boarding house." He expressed surprise 
that Barron had not invited him to fill one of them. Two years later he 
had still not entered the residence but had moved to Maxwell's on 
Temperance Street. He was still a good student, having been promoted 
to the seventh form; he had learned fencing from Goodwin, and had 



become one of the best cricketers at the College. All this he confided to 
his diary. He also mentioned a trip to Peterborough, "with Maggie and 
David Rogers. (Maggie a deuced nice girl.) Got David on a spree at 
Harris' Tavern and made love to Maggie all the road home." 4 

An interesting group of boys in the residence during the forties were 
eight or nine Canadian Indians. It was the policy of S. P. Jarvis, the 
Chief Superintendent for Indian Affairs, "to have them trained like 
white boys of good family" 5 (presumably to help impose white values 
when they returned home). One such boy was Francis Assiginack (or 
Assiknack), whose letter to Jarvis left much to be desired in terms of 
English grammar, but which made a common complaint: "I was very 
much wish to asked you for what I would like have it. [I am] very much 
hungry for money." 6 Another Indian, Charles Keejack, was a fine ath- 
lete. One morning he raced against a British officer on a trotting horse 
down a half-mile stretch of University Avenue and got to Queen Street 

The boarder's life of the fifties was not so different in principle from 
a boarders' life of today. John Ross Robertson remembered the year 
1857, the same year he started The College Times: 

The additional space [provided by Howard's additions of 1838] gave 
much more sleeping accommodation, and the large rooms of the early- 
days were divided into dormitories, framed of lattice work about seven 
feet by eight in extent, each dormitory being provided with a single 
bed, a washstand, and a few pegs for clothing, and a door, which was 
so hung that when closed it could not be opened without jingling a 
bell in the main hall that would wake the Seven Sleepers. This bell 
business was a disagreeable innovation. At ten o'clock the boys were 
supposed to have retired, with each door closed, the bell set, and usu- 
ally quiet prevailed, but not always. One of the boys, a genius in his 
way, secured a piece of wire and twisted it so that he could slip the 
snap without disturbing the bell. Once out, of course, he could eman- 
cipate the entire army. Occasionally, on Friday nights, the boys had 
an old-fashioned pillow fight, that brought Mr. Thompson and Mr. 
Dodd on the scene. The boy on watch, hearing the masters approach, 
gave the warning, and the rest were in a few seconds in bed apparently 



very sound asleep, but with their ears still open, listening to the foot- 
falls of the half-dressed masters, who were astonished at the change 
from chaos to order. On one occasion, a night or two before the sum- 
mer holidays, Dr. Barrett held an inquest upon the remains of some 
pillow-slips, the verdict being that every boy whose pillow was torn 
was kept in the College grounds until he had memorized perfectly a 
few verses of Scripture selected with great care by Mr. Dodd. The 
masters' gardens — a row of seven on the east side of the hill that sloped 
into the playground — were sometimes despoiled of favourite plants; a 
riot might occur at the teatable, if the food was not up to the standard; 
a fight might take place between boarders — but all these things were 
natural. On one occasion, a luckless boy was careless enough to let 
lighted matches fall between the wainscotting in the long study, and 
then there was a clatter. Water was plentiful and the fire was soon out, 
but the penalty paid was one that makes the writer shudder as he still 
thinks of it. For four weeks the boy viewed the scenery of the outside 
world from the top of the College fence — he was within the law if he 
did not cross — and, as a further punishment, three hundred verses of 
the Bible at the rate of five per day, were not only to be memorized, 
but also presented in College ink, on College foolscap, with instruc- 
tions to dot the i's, cross the t's, and give the commas, semicolons, and 
full points the positions they were entitled to. The boys sympathized 
and poured forth their condolences, but the edict had gone forth and 
there was no help for it. 7 

Though the evidence is meagre, there were certainly stirrings of cul- 
ture at UCC in Barron's time. The first exhibition of the Toronto Society 
of Arts took place in 1847. J. G. Howard and Thomas Young were both 
prominent members of the society, and no fewer than five works of 
art — water-colours, a crayon figure, and pencil drawings — by anony- 
mous UCC students were on display. 

A musician himself, Barron made sincere attempts to get music 
started at the College; he employed a series of vocal and instrumental 
teachers in the late forties. By 185 1 the boys were good enough to put 
on a concert in the St. Lawrence Hall, the fashionable place for such 
functions. It was a great success, played before a packed house. Barron 



paid for it himself, expecting to be recompensed by donations at the 
door. Unfortunately, the returns were meagre, and the principal was 
much out of pocket. Mr. Maynard played the violin and Barron took 
the double bass. A reporter of the time attended with grave doubts but 
wrote afterwards that he was "agreeably disappointed at the excellence 
of the boys' performance." 

Afterwards there was dancing and much refreshment, probably too 
much. F. E. Dixon, an Old Boy, recalled much later that 

among the guests were Sir Hew Dalrymple, lieutenant-colonel of the 
71st Highland Light Infantry, then stationed in the city, and two 
other young officers aides-de-camp to His Excellency Lord Elgin, the 
Governor-General. These three gentlemen (?), who had evidently 
been indulging rather freely at the supper table, went down to the 
gentlemen's dressing room while the dancing was in full blast, and 
there commenced an orgy which was probably without a parallel in 
the military history of Toronto. They turned the overcoats inside out 
and knotted them together by the sleeves, so as to cause an almost 
inextricable confusion when the owners came afterwards to claim 
them. Boys' caps were stuffed down into the sinks, and on the whole I 
think that scarcely one in ten of those who stayed for the dancing was 
able to secure his own proper garments. There was, as may be imag- 
ined, an immense amount of excitement over the matter, but owing to 
the high position of the parties implicated, it was soon hushed up. 

A tradition that has persisted for well over a century began during 
this period with the first meeting of the Upper Canada College Debat- 
ing Society on May 15, 1858. One of the earliest College Times carried 
the report: 

The debate was carried on with a good deal of spirit. ... I particularly 
remarked that there was but one of the College masters present, and 
was very much surprised at that. ... if this Society be discouraged, it 
will sink into obscurity . . . and there will perish one of the most advan- 
tageous undertakings that ever has arisen in Upper Canada College. 



Music, debates, art exhibitions — these were one facet of the ucc 
program. An equally important part of the school's life came under the 
general heading of fights. These could be categorized into three general 
types: First, serious collective warfare against other schools on Queen 
and Richmond streets, or against the Model School. The chief weapons 
were stones. Once a half-brick knocked a boy's cap off, and on another 
occasion a policeman walked into Barron's class and arrested two boys. 
Second, there were serious fisticuffs, widely recognized by the well- 
known call of the wild, "Fight, fight!" A ring would be formed around 
the two boys, and there were rules of the game, seconds, and so on. If it 
lasted too long, some insensitive master would appear and break up the 
eager throng. Third, there were mock battles between members of the 
school, such as those modelled on the Crimean War. In November 1854 
the British won a victory at the Alma, and an Old Boy recalled the re- 
enactment at the College: 

The College play-ground had in those days a stream running through 
it from north to south, some four or five feet wide, a creek which was 
generally boarded over, but owing to some neglect just at the time of 
which I am writing, a portion of the boards about twenty feet in 
length at the southern end close to King Street West had been taken 
up and not relaid. Here was an opportunity too good to be lost, the 
creek was the Alma and the small hills on its eastern bank were the 
historic heights of the same name. There was no reason whatever why 
we boys should not fight the battle of the Alma over again. Russians, 
British, French and Turkish battalions were speedily organized and 
ranged themselves, the Russians captained by a big boy who was in 
the Commercial Form, occupying the "heights." 

The "British" were led by a now well-known resident of Grimsby, 
Ont., the French by Alcide De la Haye, the only son of Mr. J. P. De la 
Haye, the French master of U.C.C., and the Turks by a boy who 
styled himself Omar Pasha. 

There had been a pretty heavy fall of snow, wet and clinging, and 
in consequence "ammunition" abounded. The defending force took 
up position and the attack commenced, but alas for the pluck and the 
prestige of the "allied force"; they were, in a battle which lasted half 



an hour, completely routed. Over the Alma they could not get; the 
position held by the Russians was impregnable. The leader of the Brit- 
ish displayed tremendous bravery but could not get his troops to face 
the tremendous [snowball] fire to which they were exposed. The 
French lingered timidly in the rear, whilst poor Omar Pasha was ren- 
dered "hors de combat" very early in the conflict by a snowball hitting 
him in the forehead inflicting a nasty wound, the marks of which he 
still carries, the blow compelling him to beat a hasty retreat. 

Mr. Barron, with the strong common sense which always charac- 
terized his dealings with the boys, contented himself with giving us all, 
in the prayer hall a day or two later, a lecture on the folly of such 
"sports," and hinting that putting stones in snowballs was the reverse 
of bravery. 

It should not be thought that UCC boys did nothing except fight in 
their spare time. An Old Boy recalls that in the summer the favourite 
place was Toronto Bay. College boys in the afternoon would take long 
and heavy planks and paddle out towards the island. Their clothing 
was always light so they did not mind the risk of falling in. The other 
chief amusement was swimming from Simcoe Street to York Street and 
back again. 

In April 1846 a flagstaff was re-erected on the College cricket 
ground and a new flag hoisted. A thirteen-year-old student named S. A. 
Marling, who later became headmaster of the Whitby Grammar School 
and a high school inspector, wrote a nine-verse poem for the event 
extolling the virtues of Britain, "our Fatherland, the Home of the brave 
and the free . . . our Home, our Altars, and our Queen, the Queen of the 
good and true." Marling ended on a stirring note: 

And still, oh, still remember, 
Whatever ill betide, 
The land where all our Fathers lived, 
Where all our Fathers died. 

Marling's sentiments were typical of the College boys of that time. Fifty 



years later the umbilical cord to Great Britain was stronger than ever. 
It took a century for it to loosen. 

Holidays have always been beloved by school boys and Barron was 
an expert in knowing when to grant them. An Old Boy recalled that 

when the regular troops of the British Army were in Canada, and 
were reviewed by the Governor General, we always asked for a holi- 
day. The day and boarding-house boys joined in the memorial. The 
Sixth fellows generally prepared the address, which was not to the 
Principal and masters but to the Governor General. His private secre- 
tary used to live in a brick cottage on the corner of King and Simcoe 
Streets in the Government House grounds. The small delegation of 
boys would go over in the morning and hand the secretary the docu- 
ment. The secretary would then go upstairs and tap at the bedroom 
door of the Governor. 

"What's that?" 

"The college boys, your Excellency, want a holiday to see the 

"Oh, I suppose so. Yes — ask Barron." 

And in about an hour the Sergeant Orderly would come over 
bringing a large letter with a big seal, and Mr. Barron would smile 
and grant the request. 

Direct petitions were also made to the ucc Board of Management. 
In 1852 a group of twenty-eight students, supported by sixty-seven par- 
ents and Old Boys, respectfully begged 

leave to state that relying on the interest that is taken by the Council 
in the studies of the boys, but also in their personal happiness and 
means of enjoyment, [we] most humbly approach your Honourable 
body to beg the renewal of a favour which was for many years granted. 
Your petitioners refer to the half holiday on Wednesday which, 
from the foundation of this institution until the beginning of last year, 
had been always enjoyed by them and which your petitioners humbly 
hope was not withdrawn in consequence of any abuse of this privilege, 
or upon any bad effect that had been found to follow from it. If it 
should please your Honourable body to restore this favour, it would of 



course rest with a much respected Principal and yourselves to deter- 
mine whether a half holiday shall be granted on Wednesday as for- 
merly or a whole holiday on Saturday as in most of the public schools 
in the province. 8 

The board graciously granted a whole holiday on Saturday, winter 
term excepted, in return for which two or three extra hours of study 
were added each week. 

When difficulties or special circumstances arose, protocol appeared 
to demand a barrage of letters rather than face-to-face confrontation. 
In 1842 Charles Baker wrote to Strachan, begging for the readmission 
of his son, whose age, the register claimed, was twelve. Strachan regret- 
ted that the King's College Council was unable to recommend young 
Baker, "as the boy had been publicly convicted and after imprisonment 
pardoned by the public act of the Governor General. . . ." Something 
might have been done for the boy, said Strachan, "had he not been 
brought to trial and convicted." 9 

Many of the letters to the administration related to the difficulties 
which seemed to surround the Reverend George Maynard, the mathe- 
matical master. How he stayed at the College for twenty years remains 
one of the great mysteries of ucc. In 1839 Edward Sherwood, aged six- 
teen, was expelled for striking Maynard. (At least six other boys were in 
some kind of trouble with Maynard at the same time.) His father, Mr. 
Justice Sherwood, went neither to Maynard nor to the principal but 
wrote to John Macaulay, the Inspector-General. He euphemistically 
spoke of, "an unfortunate dispute . . . between one of the Masters . . . and 
my youngest son Edward" 10 and appealed the sentence. Macaulay went 
further afield by approaching Justice Jonas Jones, who happened to be 
the principal's future father-in-law. Principal McCaul wrote Jones a 
wordy epistle describing the system of discipline at UCC and Sherwood 
remained expelled: 

The discipline of Upper Canada College is maintained by rewards 
and punishments — the principal rewards are prizes of books annually 
given for progress and good conduct — the principal punishments are 



corporal chastisement — dismissal — and expulsion. The punishments 
may be divided into two classes — ordinary and special. The masters 
have a discretionary power in the . . . former, which, however, is very 
much restricted by their responsibility to the Principal. The offences 
. . . are lateness of attendance, want of preparation, and disorderly con- 
duct. These punishments are inflicted in their own rooms in the pres- 
ence of the class, to which the offenders belong. Offences of a more 
serious character are referred by them to the Principal. . . . Such is the 
system . . . laid down by my predecessor. [He] followed . . . the usage of 
the English Grammar Schools. 

The only alterations, which I have made . . . have been — adding 
rewards to encourage exertion and good conduct — instituting minor 
punishments — and discontinuing corporal punishment as much as I 
could. . . . The punishments, which I have introduced, are . . . 
impositions — and, with the boys resident at the Board House, depriv- 
ing them of play, and confining them to the College grounds. ..." 

Beverley Jones of Brockville kept a diary through 1855 and 1856. 
His laconic remarks on the staff upsets of his time show how little adult 
antics affected wiser, younger heads. "Mon. Oct. 1st — Fine day. Mr. 
Maynard got his walking ticket on Saturday night and the principal 
had to take mathematical classes after coll. went to the playground and 
had a short game of cricket." 

Jones had his priorities right: cricket took clear priority over the 
crises among the faculty. The recent scandal had been very hard on 
Barron but Jones once again knew what was important. "Teus. Dec. 
4th — Fine day went to the principal to repitition and he was as cross as 
a bear with a sore head I came out second." 12 

Jones's pride in his academic success reflected the mood of this peri- 
od. It was an augury of happier times ahead. 





ONE OF THE most DIFFICULT areas of College administration in 
the nineteenth century had to do with the choice of principal. 
The government, moving between Toronto and Quebec, and be- 
set by other concerns, seemed unable to make quick, sensible decisions. 
The year 1861 saw the fourth interregnum direction of Upper Canada 
College, this time by three tried-and-true teachers — Scadding, Wedd, 
and Brown. Administration was not their strength, and it was a relief 
when the appointment was finally made. 

In late May 1861 John A. Macdonald recommended George R. R. 
Cockburn, age twenty-seven and rector of the recently established 
Model Grammar School, for the principalship of ucc. Governor Gen- 
eral Head offered "the Reverend" Cockburn the post. (Head's aide 
gently reminded him that Mr. Cockburn was not a clergyman; he was a 
Master of Arts.) Cockburn, an Edinburgh University man, had applied 
for the English classical job at UCC in 1858 but had abruptly withdrawn 
his application when Egerton Ryerson had persuaded him to take over 
the Model Grammar School. Cockburn and Ryerson had not hit it off 
almost from the beginning. At the time of Cockburn's appointment to 
the Model School there had been some objection from the Oxford, 
Cambridge, and Dublin people in Toronto that a Scot should have so 
exalted a position. Ryerson had hinted at some regret about his choice, 
and had wanted Cockburn to get an MA. Cockburn had felt called upon 
to defend at great length his own claims to scholarship, and because of 
his past record had obtained his MA without writing exams. 

When offered the ucc principalship Cockburn delayed a response 



in order to confer with Ryerson; he then accepted, using Ryerson's 
name in his letter. Ryerson was furious; he denied concurring in Cock- 
burn's move, stating that he would have done so only if UCC and the 
Model Grammar School were to be blended. He reiterated his strong 
desire to merge the two schools, thereby saving four thousand dollars. 
Cockburn thought the two schools were virtually merged already, but 
did not want to make his acceptance conditional on the amalgamation. 
He said he would be happy to run both when (and if) they became 
combined. Ryerson wrote to Macdonald for his support but got none: 
Macdonald had thought he was meeting Ryerson's wishes in Cock- 
burn's appointment — to him the first step in the amalgamation which 
Macdonald himself wanted. He urged Ryerson not to oppose the 
change, and Ryerson withdrew his objections. Two years later, Charles 
Ryerson, Egerton's son, entered UCC, and a string of Ryersons followed. 

The weekly Globe was pleased with Cockburn's appointment to an 
institution which it thought was richly endowed but ill-managed. The 
paper felt UCC had become fossilized, standing still in the midst of edu- 
cational reform in Britain (from which it drew its inspiration). It lav- 
ished praise on the new furnishings and renovations which had recently 
been approved: a lavatory, a laboratory, a library, refurnished class- 
rooms each with a thermometer to regulate the temperature. The paper 
noted that an entrance examination had been introduced which con- 
sisted of English, the first four rules of arithmetic, and the geography of 
Europe; new boarding facilities were warmly approved. The Globe 
warned that, hopeful as it was, it would not hesitate to condemn any 
deviation from the virtuous new path. It need not have worried. 

Cockburn had a theory that much of the College's trouble lay in the 
constitution and management of the boarding-house, and he moved 
quickly to correct it. For a number of years Dr. Michael Barrett had 
been not only resident housemaster and first English master at UCC, but 
also president of and lecturer at the Toronto School of Medicine. He 
saw no incompatibility in these several occupations, but Cockburn did. 
The UCC Committee thought highly of Barrett and did not wish to lose 
him; after some scuffling he stayed on as a teacher but resigned as 
boarding-house housemaster. He continued his School of Medicine 



work. In December 1863 Barrett became the first official College 
doctor, 1 retaining that responsibility until 1886. 

A second problem Cockburn inherited was the perennial financial 
one. Stennett had been promised a retiring allowance of $4,800. The 
Governor General approved such payment out of the College income 
fund, whenever it could afford it. The forthright bursar of both the uni- 
versity and the College advised that the fund was overdrawn by more 
than ten thousand dollars and things would be worse by Christmas. 
When it was suggested that the university lend UCC the money to pay 
Stennett, the bursar came crisply back: the university income fund was 
overdrawn by over $39,000! In the face of this sort of difficulty the UCC 
Committee asked several times for the resurrection of the annual grant; 
needless to say, they did not get it. The Governor General, at his wit's 
end, told the bursar that it was imperative for both institutions to prac- 
tise all economy. 

Cockburn, highly organized and with a good business sense, dealt 
with both the human and the financial situations with great finesse. His 
first move in dealing with faculty appointments was to introduce a 
period of six months' probation, a useful innovation in case of unhappi- 
ness on either side. He then moved into the boarding problem by rec- 
ommending the appointment of John Martland as superintendent of 
the boarding-house. Cockburn had lured Martland from the Montreal 
High School, where he had a very high reputation. Martland was also 
Scadding's replacement in the classics department, Wedd moving up to 
first place, and Martland moving in behind him. 

If anything put the seal of approval on Cockburn as a first-class 
principal, it was the addition of Martland to the steady and experi- 
enced group of masters he already had. Barrett had served 1 7 years, 
Thompson 15, Wedd 11, and Brown 5 when Cockburn took over. By 
the time Cockburn left in 1881 these five men had taught at UCC a total 
of 147 years. Cockburn had few disciplinary worries, and this solid base 
allowed him to welcome some extraordinarily talented men as col- 

The mathematics department had never had two masters, but 
Cockburn thought it was high time it did. In 1864 Cockburn appointed 



the first of a series of first-class men to help Brown in mathematics. 
Francis Checkley, Science Scholar at Trinity College, Dublin, and a 
Model Grammar School teacher, came from 1863 to 1865; he went on 
to head schools in Sarnia and London. He was replaced by John A. 
Paterson, 1861 head boy, who later became solicitor for the University 
of Toronto and president of the Royal Astronomical Society. James 
McLellan followed; he later became principal of the Ontario School of 
Pedagogy and president of the Ontario Educational Association. In 
1 87 1 Cockburn made the second mathematical post a permanent one, 
and the Reverend Arthur Sweatman resigned as headmaster of Hell- 
muth College in London to join UCC; years later he became Archbishop 
and Primate of all Canada. He was succeeded by Alfred Baker, who 
had been University of Toronto gold medallist in mathematics and 
principal of several high schools before joining UCC. Later he was very 
prominent at the university, president of the Ontario Educational Asso- 
ciation, and a member of the American and the French mathematical 
societies. The post of second maths master was a decided success. When 
George Sparling, who had been principal of the seminary in Yarmouth, 
Nova Scotia, came in 1872, he stayed on and eventually took over from 

But Cockburn's attraction was not simply for mathematicians. In 
the English department the College had a taste of Thomas Carscadden, 
who became principal of Richmond Hill High School and Gait Collegi- 
ate Institute, and John C. Dunlop, later lecturer in modern languages 
and philology at Trinity. In French and German, Edward Fiirrer, a 
Swiss, earned his MD while teaching at the College and later was a sur- 
geon and superintendent at the Royal Inland Hospital, Kamloops. Wil- 
liam H. Fraser also joined the staff under Cockburn; he was gold 
medallist in modern languages at the u of T; where he later became a 
professor of Italian and Spanish. He was the co-author of the Ontario 
High School French Grammar and the German Grammar. William 
Mulock was study master for two years; he later became vice-chancellor 
of the University of Toronto, postmaster general, and the first minister 
of labour. Last, but not least, the beloved William S. "Stony" Jackson 
joined Cockburn in 1877 to teach classics and stayed for forty years. 



By 1865 the boarding situation was under control and financially 
showing a surplus. In fact the UCC committee of the senate went so far 
as to say that the "state of the College is very satisfactory." 2 Forty-seven 
out of fifty-one beds were full, and a joyful statute was passed allowing 
the principal up to three dollars per term for every full-time boarder. 
Martland found the boarding-house arduous, resigned a couple of times 
and was given assistants, but stayed on overseeing boarding until the 
school moved north in 1891. He was the first master to make boarding 
at UCC a complete success. Competition had started to sharpen, Trinity 
College School in Port Hope having been founded in 1865, and the Col- 
lege residence had to be good to survive. It was and it did. In 1869 it 
became overcrowded, and an addition was completed in 187 1. 3 

In addition to solving the boarding riddle and strengthening mathe- 
matics, Cockburn persuaded the university senate to pass a statute 
appointing a lecturer in chemistry and physiology for three hundred 
dollars a year. This innovative role was undertaken by Dr. Michael 
Barrett. The English public schools had been a long time coming to 
grips with science: it was first taught compulsorily at Winchester in 
1857. Scientifically-minded members of the gentry were few and far 
between; though awe-struck at the strides made in science and industry, 
the schools saw no need to change. In scholastics, law, the church, and 
the army, the needs were a well-trained mind and a "character that 
nurtured the power of decision." 4 Future employment was less impor- 
tant than character, which was developed by the classics and the Bible. 
Headmasters and educated people generally were very conservative, 
and obtaining science teachers through the usual Oxbridge channel was 
difficult. (Some good eccentric men were available but they were not 
thought to be gentlemen.) At UCC the College doctor broke the barrier. 

Cockburn's dynamism and fine judgment in men was aided by 
something else on the financial side: the UCC land endowment was 
finally paying off. In April 1866 the senate committee approved $12,500 
annually from the UCC income fund for expenditures. No other princi- 
pal or governing council had had such a sum; before the decade was 
out, it would prove to be very much a mixed blessing. 

In August 1868 Cockburn, seven years in the saddle and riding tri- 



umphantly, met his first real opposition. The Ontario Grammar School 
Association had empowered three of its members to produce a pam- 
phlet entitled "The U.C. College Question." It was a fifty-five-page 
document, savagely attacking the College under a variety of headings: 
the so-called Grammar School Reserves, the College's origin, its sources 
of income past and present, its history up to and since 1850, its relation- 
ship to the university, its cost compared to the grammar schools, its aca- 
demic standing, its salaries — no detail of the College's history or 
administration was too minute for the Association's probing eye. Not 
surprisingly the pamphlet's conclusions were that UCC's continued 
existence was indefensible, the grammar schools should have their 
rightful inheritance returned to them, and justice should be demanded 
from the legislature against an institution "begotten of Fraud and nur- 
tured by Plunder."^ 

The Association's pamphlet was carefully constructed of whole 
truths, half-truths, and damned lies. Colborne's headlong speed in 
founding UCC without much consideration of other schools, and the 
enormous endowment with which he blessed it, were certainly grounds 
for disapproval. The administration of the school had, for much of its 
forty years, been less than exemplary. UCC had certainly spent a moun- 
tain of money. On the other hand, all that was in the past. The present 
teaching was unquestionably sound, the faculty gave the institution 
rock-like stability, the boarding-school was the only non-denomina- 
tional one of any standing, and Cockburn's financial acumen was 

Common sense did not quite prevail. Newspapers from cities and 
hamlets all over southern Ontario shrieked and growled right through 
the autumn. Dozens of editorials from almost thirty communities satu- 
rated the press, forcing the House of Assembly to appoint a select edu- 
cation committee to look into the charges enunciated by the pam- 
phlet. (Some Toronto newspapers — the Globe, the Leader, and the 
Telegraph — defended the College, not on its history, but on its present 
performance.) Meanwhile Cockburn prepared a rebuttal of thirty- two 
pages, which was published in book form towards the end of the year. It 
was well he did, because boards of trustees from many Ontario centres 



sent petitions to the House asking for the withdrawal of the College 

In January 1869 the select committee met "to consider the disen- 
dowment of Upper Canada College." 6 The two chief witnesses were 
John McCaul, president of University College, and Egerton Ryerson, 
Chief Superintendent of Education. McCaul made three good points: 
to have all the grammar schools as efficient as ucc would be outra- 
geously expensive, but there was a need for more than one (he pointed 
to Hellmuth College in London and to tcs); it was not necessary to 
make all grammar schools feeders for the university because most stu- 
dents needed to be qualified for only the ordinary positions of life; final- 
ly, dividing the ucc exhibition money among 104 grammar schools 
would not be of much advantage to any of them. Dr. Ryerson was more 
long-winded: he thought the grammar schools did wonderfully well 
considering that their grants averaged about $500 each compared to the 
College's $12,500. He said that he had sent his son to ucc because the 
teaching was superior. If he had his way, he would not withdraw the 
endowment but would make the school as efficient as possible and then 
make all the grammar schools as good as it was. It was evident that in 
his heart he still wanted the College to be the Model Grammar School. 

The committee adjourned without recommending the disendow- 
ment of UCC, and Cockburn was vindicated; but the first organized step 
to strip the College had been taken. The educational establishment, the 
press, and the legislature had all been part of a general attack, which 
continued on and off for nineteen years in a battle the College could not 
hope to win. It had become too rich and too academically successful not 
to kindle the fires of jealousy in less fortunate centres across the 
province — jealousy sharpened by the fact that it was in Toronto, the 
city which got everything. However, the College had survived another 
battle in its long war and headed into Cockburn's second decade with 
justifiable confidence. 

As it moved into the 1870s the College was, in fact, a successful 
operation. Enrolment had continued to increase, averaging three hun- 
dred, and classes were over-full. Day boys rose to 195 and boarders 
reached a high of 137 on three occasions. About fifty-five per cent of the 



boys came from Toronto, forty per cent from Ontario, and a few from 
the United States and the rest of Canada. (These proportions were true 
for the first fifty years of ucc's existence.) The College and the board- 
ing-house funds were kept separately; both showed a surplus, and all 
salaries were paid in full. A steady stream of boys, about eleven a year, 
was going on to university, mainly to the University of Toronto, but a 
very few further afield. More money was voted for several academic dis- 
ciplines, and a 1874 surplus of over a thousand dollars was divided 
among the masters in proportion to their reduction in i860. 7 

It was fortunate for the College that it was well managed in the 
1870s because the provincial system continued to strengthen. In 1871 
all common schools became free by law and were paid for by taxes. The 
great mass of young Ontario men never went to high school or univer- 
sity but received the whole of their education in the common primary 
schools. Many of these were still wretched, the teachers being poorly 
paid and constantly changing, but there was a widespread movement 
towards improvement. The same year the old grammar schools disap- 
peared to be replaced by high schools and collegiate institutes. 

In 1876 Ryerson retired after thirty-two years as chief superintend- 
ent of education. Ryerson had laboured tirelessly to erect the Ontario 
educational system on the foundation laid by his rival, John Strachan. 
He had had some hard things to say about the College, mostly in regard 
to its outrageous endowment and expensive ways, but he had publicly 
praised its teaching. He probably would have loved to run UCC himself 
and certainly wished it had been part of his system. He was replaced by 
Adam Crooks, who became the first provincial minister of education. 
He had been the UCC head boy of 1846, and was a lawyer, the Liberal 
member for West Toronto, and a fanatical worker in the College's 
cause through good times and bad. 

By 1877 the College had outgrown its accommodation. With an 
enrolment of about three hundred boys divided into ten forms, the class- 
rooms were too small; the principal had no office, and there was not 
enough room for the boarders despite the 187 1 addition. More space 
was absolutely essential. The UCC Committee outlined this situation to 
the provincial secretary, hinting at the idea of a new site, but knowing 



that that was an impossibility. A plan had been sketched to enlarge the 
buildings by replacing the existing front. Twelve classrooms, a public 
hall, a room for the principal, and space for sixty more boarders could 
be provided for fifty thousand dollars. The fees had recently been 
increased; the endowment was about $235,000; the financial position 
was sound. 8 

Crooks carried this message forward to a committee of the Educa- 
tional Council, and a forty-thousand-dollar expenditure was approved. 
By April 1877 the transformation was complete. William Dendy in Lost 
Toronto describes it: 

The most obvious change was in the centre building, which was 
expanded by the addition of a mansarded block 85 feet wide by 44 feet 
deep directly in front of the old main building. The lower floor con- 
tained a principal's classroom east of the hall and a study room to the 
west, each 33 by 42 feet. The entire upper floor was occupied by a 
chapel-assembly hall that rose 28 feet to a beamed roof with a ribbed 
and diagonally boarded ceiling, described as Gothic. The whole room 
had a natural wood cornice and wainscot finished in matching fash- 
ion. The character of the exterior is more difficult to describe. C. P. 
Mulvaney in 1884 saw it as an example of "the Queen Anne style of 
architecture, now so much in vogue"; John Ross Robertson in 1888 
referred to it as "modified Elizabethan." Both descriptions suggest the 
consciously English atmosphere. 

The addition to the main block was built in red brick to match the 
original buildings. Horizontal bands in white stone formed a grid pat- 
tern with the two-storey piers that grouped the tall windows. The front 
entrance stepped forward, and was framed by banded columns — an 
eccentric touch of Jacobean classicizing detail — as a tall frontispiece. 
Above this, in the centre of the roof, rose a high octagonal cupola, 
matched by thin pinnacles topping piers at the corners of the block, 
which actually concealed chimneys and ventilators. The inspiration of 
the cupola and the ventilators was probably Kivas Tully's own design 
for similar cupolas in Trinity College. But the design as a whole, like 
much Victorian work of the period in Canada, makes a virtue of indi- 
vidualized and inventive detail: a basic medieval picturesqueness 



achieved with French and Italianate classical detail. Elsewhere in the 
renovations, the French Second Empire style — present in a purer form 
in Government House across the street — dominated: in the mansard 
roofs added to the old buildings, in the elaborately moulded and 
crested window heads of pressed metal and cast iron added to the front 
windows, and in the new front entrances to the residences, with their 
high stoops and porches. 

Upper Canada College was approaching its fiftieth birthday and 
had reached a high point in its career, but once again success brought 

For some inexplicable reason the College statements of income and 
expenditure had not been brought before the legislature for many years. 
In January 1878 an Opposition member of the legislature named Lau- 
der moved for an order of the House to inquire into ucc's endowment 
fund. He requested a statement of money borrowed and of money spent 
on new structures; he noted the new buildings and wanted to know the 
source of the money. His aim was government control of the College's 
expenditures just as it controlled those of the provincial schools. Crooks 
defended the expense, but the debate was long. The Opposition clearly 
wanted regular reports on the progress of the College, legislative super- 
vision over its management, and the final solution — the use of UCC's 
endowment fund for the benefit of the whole province. In the end there 
was agreement on both sides of the House that the required information 
would be forthcoming. The endowment was not yet in jeopardy, but the 
next step towards its confiscation had been taken. An Act was passed 
stating that all appropriations from the College's permanent fund were 
to be subject to the approval of the legislative assembly. 

Less than two years later the entire process was repeated. The 
boarding-house accommodation was again insufficient, with many 
boarders living outside the College; a new building was needed and a 
gymnasium besides. The cost was estimated at thirty thousand dollars. 
Crooks went to the House in early 1 880 for the money, which was, after 
all, coming out of UCC's own funds. This time, however, the government 
lost control of its own party. The same arguments were bandied about, 



but a new refrain was heard as well — namely, that the University of 
Toronto was low in funds and should get the endowment. The College 
was hotly attacked by almost everyone, with poor Crooks trying his best 
to stave off the arguments with sentimentality and emotion. It was 
finally decided that nobody really understood the matter and more 
information was needed. Crooks was ordered to obtain it. 

While Crooks was preparing his report, Goldwin Smith 9 gave it as 
his opinion that the College was a survival from the age before the high 
schools had developed. It was, he said, hard to compare them because 
the College, at public expense, took so many good pupils away from the 
high schools. Nevertheless, Smith made two salient points: if UCC did 
not exist, wealthy people would send their sons away, perhaps to Eng- 
land or to the United States. Moreover, to divide the endowment 
among all the high schools would be to waste it away without effect. 

At last Crooks was ready, and on January 31, 1 881, he produced for 
Lieutenant-Governor John Beverley Robinson a long summation of the 
College's situation. The College's enrolment was over three hundred, 
and everything was fine except for two items: first, the boarding-house 
was still inadequate; and second, a gymnasium was needed for wet 
weather. Crooks went into some detail with statistics on the boarding- 
house from which boys were being turned away. Crooks presented 
equally detailed figures on scholarships and much information compar- 
ing the College with the high schools in terms of cost per pupil and sub- 
jects taught. He listed all the distinguished graduates (and there were 
many), and without any proof stated that the greater number of College 
parents were in moderate circumstances and many were struggling. 
Crooks concluded this important document by stating two aims: econo- 
my, and an enlarged boarding-house. He suggested that UCC had 
proved its usefulness as a university feeder, and its permanency should 
be assured by undertaking certain measures: the elimination of the 
sixth form, the introduction of the high school entrance examination, 
inspection by the Department of Education, a reduction in boarding 
and tuition fees, a limitation in the numbers of Toronto students, more 
exhibitions, an improvement in boarding and masters' accommodation, 



and a revision in the duties and salaries of the principal and the mas- 

Crooks was a warm-hearted friend of education, but in some 
respects he did the College harm. In one debate he had argued for 
UCC's retention on the grounds of culture and tone — it was a school for 
the education of gentlemen's sons — an argument certain to draw the 
fury of the Opposition. The Telegram, a College supporter, told the truth 
by saying that gentlemen could pay for their sons' education out of their 
own pockets. Furthermore, Crooks threatened to resign from the House 
of Assembly if UCC were abolished. The Telegram and members of his 
own side parted company with Crooks on that. The UCC issue was not a 
party issue, and those calling for disendowment were not simply trying 
to embarrass the government. The case had to be tried on its merits, 
and the College had to be open to criticism. The Telegram concluded 
that the resignation of the emotional Minister of Education would be 
no loss to the portfolio. 

As the winter of 1881 wore on, it was evident that public feelings 
were high and press comment widespread. The Toronto World gave a 
Toronto view but expressed it well: the enemies of the College were the 
high schools, the municipalities, the university, and all those opposed to 
aristocratic tendencies. But the World saw something else: better teach- 
ing, a higher standard of finish, a different system of discipline and 
study, a spirit of "community," 10 a wealth of social and moral 
influences outside the classroom work. The World wanted a competition 
of systems, not a uniform monopoly, and urged UCC's friends to find a 
compromise solution for their dilemma and to find it quickly. The St. 
Catharines Standard took all of Crooks's statistics and proved that UCC 
was not doing nearly so well as the St. Catharines Institute and doing it 
far more expensively; the College was for the "blue-bloods"" of Toron- 
to; the Toronto press wanted to perpetuate and nourish every Toronto 
institution; it was for the provincial press to tell the truth. 

Both sides had a case. The world had changed immeasurably since 
those far-off days of 1829. Regardless of which schools were doing better 
work, the key point was that UCC was doing good work, and the prov- 



ince's means of education were not so good that they could afford to lose 
a good school. 

During this contretemps, the university passed a resolution saying 
that the selection of anyone other than a Canadian for the principal- 
ship of UCC was a reflection on Canadian talent. This expression of 
national pride may or may not have affected Cockburn, but a memo- 
randum over Crooks's signature certainly did and led to the principal's 
resignation. The memorandum was an addendum to Crooks's January 
report and obviously a sop to all those who thundered away at the Col- 
lege's expense. The principal and the masters had been receiving, in 
addition to basic salary, $2.50 per pupil each term; this was to be 
reduced to $1.25. In addition, Cockburn 's salary was to be cut by almost 
one thousand dollars, and Mainland's by about eight hundred. Com- 
pared to the university salaries, Crooks concluded, the UCC masters 
would still be doing relatively well. 

It depended a good deal which side of the fence one was on. Cock- 
burn, on the wrong side, finished off the year and then announced he 
wanted to retire because of "ill-health." He received the sum of $6,524 
on his departure, part retiring allowance, part for improvements he had 
put into his house. When the money was tardy in arriving, he sent a 
sharp note to the bursar and left for his new careers. 12 

Cockburn was a formidable man, easily the most potent principal 
the College had in its first fifty years, and one of the best it ever had. He 
had cleared off the debt, vastly increased the value of the endowment, 
developed a remarkable faculty, and solved the human side of the 
boarding puzzle. In doing all this he had wounded the vanity of the 
grammar schools and excited the envy of the university. His triumphs 
were in a lost cause, and he retired at age forty-seven in disgust. In the 
ominous days ahead, the College would miss him. 



School Life Under Cockburn 


most strongly influenced by those who have powerful personalities 
and who stay for some time. Upper Canada College in the eight- 
een-sixties and -seventies was no exception. 

The principal, George Cockburn, known to the boys as "Cockeye," 
in addition to looking after the finances, the investments, the engage- 
ment of masters, and the timetables, also found time to review the boys' 
work each week. Hugh Langton, head boy of 1879, remembered how 

made us realize the tragedy of remorse in Macbeth's mind, the sense of 
something having been done that could never be undone and must be 
expiated. It was a revelation . . . that Shakespeare was anything except 
an assemblage of unusual words. . . . He also endeavoured to make us 
see the poetic beauty, the imaginative vision of certain passages, as for 
instance Macbeth's characterization of the gift of sleep which he had 
murdered in his murder of Duncan. 1 

Langton thought Cockburn was a great headmaster whose "real metier 
was teaching." Though Cockburn was really a classical scholar, he 
instructed in French, German, and history as well. Joseph Bowes 
remembered that "he had a picturesque way of bringing [history] up to 
date. Henry the eighth . . . Charles the second ... all the leading charac- 
ters that were touched by him seemed to come to life." On the other 



hand, Sigmund Samuel, who hated his brief time at UCC, remembered 
Gockburn as "unreservedly severe." 2 

Cockburn's relative severity and coolness were balanced by the 
warmth and humanity of two fine teachers, William Wedd and John 
Martland. Wedd was affectionately known as "Billygoat" because of 
the shape of his whiskers. He had a wonderful reputation as a classical 
master. His discipline was relaxed; the boys were very much at ease; he 
never spoke a harsh word. Though the element of fear was entirely 
lacking, he was highly respected for his erudition. Because of this atmo- 
sphere the boys who had a liking for the classics learned an enormous 
amount; the boys who did not learned little. 

Martland took over the boarding-house, a perennial headache, and 
under his inspired guidance it became a successful operation. Martland 
was known to everyone as "Gentle," the most acceptable explanation 
being that he constantly stressed to the boys that the first part of the 
word "gentleman" was gentle. (An ignorant new boy who once actually 
addressed him as "Mr. Gentle" received "a look of pitiful patience.") 
His own nature was the usual mixture of a great schoolmaster: magnifi- 
cent wrath, playful good humour, or astonishing gentleness, depending 
on the needs of the moment. A. H. Young remembered Martland well 
after many years: 

Mr. Martland's concern, over and above the exercises of due economy, 
was the well-being of the boys, physical, social, moral, and spiritual. 
Only those who experienced, or who witnessed, his care and his sym- 
pathy in times of sickness, bereavement, or discouragement knew his 
gentleness. To the great world outside he was just a club man, a wel- 
come addition to a dinner party, a tea, or an evening reception, or, as 
a Principal's wife called him once, without any malicious intent, "an 
old worldling." To every boy who would allow him to be, he was a 
friend and a father. Taking seriously his responsibility for his boys, he 
seldom made social engagements for the evenings, even after the 
House was so greatly enlarged as to require the residence of two assis- 
tant masters. After dinner, in his own dining-room, at which he was 
joined occasionally by a boy or two or by some other friend, he settled 
down to reading or writing, for he carried on a fairly wide correspond- 



ence. At the same time he remembered that he had undertaken the 
oversight of those senior boys on his flat who were allowed to study in 
their own rooms. Between nine and ten o'clock he made the round of 
the whole House in order to see that everything was in proper order 
and to say goodnight — with something more at times — to the boys. 

Martland was part of every boarder's life. Many men felt that he 
had been the strongest influence for good in their lives. As the years 
passed and the boarding-house increased in size, other masters shared 
his duties, but he took the largest share, often finding it easier to do the 
work himself than to oversee the others. Early in Martland's regime the 
masters had to be in by ten in the evening, the same as the boys, but 
later on they were trusted with keys of their own. They eventually had 
servants to bring meals, prepare baths, light fires, and polish boots, but 
Martland's fundamental belief was that there should be as little differ- 
ence as possible between arrangements for masters and those for boys. 
Martland had very exacting standards about his housemastering. When 
he made the rounds at night, he always wore boots, generally heavy 
ones, and opened and shut doors with a bang, so malefactors got plenty 
of warning. He was a strict but very fair disciplinarian who was espe- 
cially hard on boys who lied or were mean — these were ungentlemanly 
actions and Martland condemned them utterly. 

Martland took special care in that most important of all boarding 
areas — food. Sometimes he had boys dine with him in his own dining- 
room or sent special treats — turkeys for example — out to boys who were 
not getting much from home. On Sundays the meal was always oyster 
soup, turkey, and plum pudding, it being Marland's belief that boys 
who were not invited out should eat just as well as those who were. 
Every Hallowe'en there was an annual oyster supper for the boarders. 
At one of these affairs the boy saying grace was so anxious to get started, 
he bowed his head and said, "Lord, give us all a fair start." A minstrel 
show, put on by the boys themselves, usually accompanied the oyster 
supper, and much talent was displayed. 

In addition to being father and mother to all the boarders, Mart- 
land gave formal religious instruction to the Anglicans between break- 



fast and Sunday morning service. Being an expert "at rubrics, collects 
and other things," as one boy said, he used to find a word or phrase out 
of the Collect of the Epistle to inspire a minor sermon on various kinds 
of foolishness. He may not have done the boys much good morally, said 
Langton, but he certainly stimulated thought. 

In addition to his boarding responsibilities, Martland taught, too. 
Joseph Bowes remembers him as 

one of the two finest teachers in all my long school and University 
days, the other being . . . George Paxton Young. . . . They both had the 
power not only of making a subject interesting, and that is much, but 
also of getting the pupils to think, which is even more important and 
more difficult. 

Frank H. Wallace, head boy of 1869, wrote: "One thing which he tried 
to do was to lead us to read the papers and to take an interest in the 
affairs of our own time. . . . He pointed out the folly of knowing ancient 
history and geography and not our own." Langton recalled that in 
English the boys had to learn two books of Paradise Lost by heart. Then 
Martland "would question us as to what Milton meant by some of his 
gorgeous similes and metaphors, and make us put into our own words 
some of the more unusual sentences." 

Martland was as interested in games as he was in everything else. 
Between afternoon school and the end of the day he invariably went for 
a long walk, which took him usually to the suburbs, away from dust and 
noise. In the course of his walks he was sure to visit any football or 
cricket field on which a College team might be playing. "What's 
score?" was his first question. If the answer was favourable, he would 
watch the game for a while and then continue his walk. If it was unfav- 
ourable, he always stayed to give encouragement with both hands and 
voice. When teams visited the College, he himself set the example in the 
way of showing hospitality. He made it clear to the boys, however, that 
the guests were theirs and that upon them rested the responsibility for 
courteous treatment and fitting entertainment. Martland entertained 
everyone. At a cricket game in 1873 attended by a large crowd "among 



whom the fair sex was predominant," Martland threw his rooms open 
to both cricketers and lady friends to the number of about a hundred. 
The reporter described Martland's party as the event of the day, more 
important even than the cricket, which deteriorated because the players 
were "unable to withstand the winsome glances of the sparkling eyes." 

For many years Martland was president of the games committee 
and paid out of his own pocket to support cricket, football, tennis, hock- 
ey, and lacrosse. One Old Boy thought he watched every College game 
for twenty-nine years. 

Wallace said that Martland "did more than anyone else in the 
school to imbue us with the sense of honour, the spirit of true sportman- 
ship, the desire to play the game. ..." Maude Parkin declared that it 
was a liberal education to have been associated with him. He was 
described as a man who "had no politics but ucc. If he had had a vote 
in every constituency in which an Old Boy was a candidate, he would 
have voted for the Old Boy no matter what his politics were." 

Thus Cockburn was backed up by a strong team of masters. The 
sound teaching at the College was accompanied by a very rigid system 
of marking, which is best described by Wallace: 

My first day in school I had a success, which tremendously encour- 
aged me. As I came in late in the term, the school having opened sev- 
eral weeks earlier, I had to start at the foot of all my classes. We "took 
places" in the old way. He who answered a question which had been 
missed by those above him immediately rose from his seat, and occu- 
pied a place on the bench above those who had missed. At the close of 
each recitation a careful record was kept of the place each boy occu- 
pied, first, fourth, twelfth, as it might be. In some cases it took me a 
long time to get up very high. But, on that first day in Cockburn's 
Cicero class, a very knotty point in syntax was up. The question 
started with the head boy; boy after boy muffed it. . . . it came all the 
way down to me and I understood it . . . and answered it with unhesi- 
tating accuracy, and marched proudly up to the top of the class. At 
the beginning of the hour, Cockburn had said to me, "Wallace, as you 
are starting late you need not be marked for a day or two." When I 
went up he reproached the rest of the boys for their failure, but he 



good naturedly left me in my pride untouched by any further ques- 
tion, and, at the close of the hour, he smiled and said, "Well, Wallace, 
will you be marked to-day or not?" "Yes, sir, please," was, of course, 
the answer. The next time we recited in that subject he proceeded to 
grill me with questions, and succeeded so far as to get me down to, I 
think, fourth place. Is it any wonder that that system succeeded with 
me, fired my ambition, and induced me to work to the utmost of my 
ability and strength. 

This system may have fired up Wallace, but what must it have done 
to the poor unfortunate who could not cope with the work? There were 
other disadvantages, too, which a correspondent pointed out to The Col- 
lege Times in February 1872: 

I think as this is the age of progression and reform, there should also 
be reform in our College. In the first place, I think marking is a farce, 
and a loss of time, energy and principle, to the Principal, masters and 
boys. As to loss of time; when a form enters a classroom there is about 
ten minutes taken up in getting started; after which the master is wor- 
ried by, "Please sir, I did not hear my number," or, "Please sir, there 
are two eighteens or tens," as the case may be, at the end of the lesson, 
there are from five to ten minutes taken up in marking the numbers, 
and more especially at the end of the quarter, when the reports are 
made out, what adding and dividing! It is a wonder it is kept up, yet 
the perseverance to a supposed duty is worthy of praise. In taking 
places one loses what another gains, and is decidedly against the prin- 
ciple of "fair exchange is no robbery." This produces ill-feeling among 
a certain class of boys, of course not every boy, nor even many boys, 
yet even a system which causes a feeling of envy or anger in a few 
boys, which may arise from ill-humour, disappointment, or a feeling of 
injustice, is worthy of censure. Again the principle of honour of not a 
few boys is at stake, and what are all the advantages that may be 
derived from this system, compared with the ruin of the boys' morality 
or honour? There are cases of this, I have no doubt, of which we are 
not aware, but there is one case known to not a few, of a boy who left 
this College, and entered a bank in this city, and was found guilty of 
defrauding his employer, owing no doubt to the fact that while at Col- 



lege he began by cheating for places and honours that he never fairly 
won. I think it is hardly necessary here to enter into a detailed account 
of all the different styles or rather dodges of cheating, it would neither 
be edifying nor perhaps pleasant. I think it would be well if the mas- 
ters instead of talking and lecturing about cheating, would go to the 
root of the matter and put a stop to the marking system. But if they 
are too conservative for reform, I think, as descendants of the British, 
whose honour was their glory, we should shun all cheating: as Canadi- 
ans we should strike for our own honour, and as College boys we 
should uphold the honour of the College, that we may enter the world 
with a true principle of honour when we have no Principal to guide us. 

The thought that cheating was an un-British thing to do was proba- 
bly typical of the boys of the time, but cheating was certainly not 
uncommon. A boy who was caught passing a paper to another boy in a 
French exam lost his prize and was promoted "below the line," 3 mean- 
ing he had to write the exam again. Hugh Langton recalled the boys 
stamping rhythmically on the floor and endlessly chanting the chorus, 
"Eyre! Eyre! Eyre! Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!" Whether the system pro- 
duced the sinister antics of the unfortunate Eyre cannot be told for 
certain — he may have been a natural — but it must have put heavy 
pressure on boys to do well academically. Langton was sure of one 
thing: UCC was completely unsuitable "as a training ground for any boy 
with the temperament of an artist." 

R. D. Richardson, the treasurer of The College Times in 1872, was 
very anxious that all the boys take advantage of the spare-time 
amusements — gymnastics, skating, snowballing, running — which the 
College offered. He deplored those who stayed indoors, avoiding fresh 
air, pale of complexion, haggard, weary, and sluggish of mind. He com- 
pared these "fags" with those who ran around outside: ruddy, ready for 
work, bright, active, fire and spirit kindled. Richardson felt it was the 
duty of every boy to get the benefit of fresh air. The broken-down 
equipment in the gym 4 was blamed with devastating logic on those who 
never used it. They allowed the "harum-scarum fellows" to smash it up. 
Richardson was especially scornful of those who stayed inside at lunch- 



time, throwing bread crusts at each other and tossing paper anywhere 
at all. Richardson feared that "College will turn out a weak and clumsy 
lot instead of a strong, healthy and active set of fellows who would be . . . 
an honour to College and a benefit to our Young Dominion." Richard- 
son was probably happy to know that boys went for walks as far as the 
university to the north and the waterfront to the south. He was proba- 
bly irked that they also haunted two theatres: the Royal, down an alley 
from King Street, and the Grand on Adelaide just west of Yonge. On 
the way they would drop in at the College "Taffy Shop" run by a Mrs. 
Harrison, just across the road from the Adelaide Street gate. There they 
indulged in pie, crumpets plastered with butter and brown sugar, gin- 
gerbread horses, rock candy, sarsaparilla, and home-made ginger beer. 

Physical exertion was not the only type of exercise. A time-honoured 
institution called the Literary and Debating Society was revitalized in 
1870, meeting every Friday night in Dr. Connon's room. Between Janu- 
ary 1 87 1 and June 1873 tne boys met forty-three times. The meetings 
consisted of readings — Byron, Tennyson, and Longfellow were popular 
— and debates on an extensive variety of subjects: Does Wealth exert 
more influence than Knowledge? (no); Is Man more Revengeful than 
Woman? (no); Is the Warrior a more useful member of society than the 
Merchant? (yes); Is the Independence of Canada desirable? (no). As 
usual, finances played a prominent part in the society's affairs, feast or 
famine being the rule. In one good year, wisdom decreed that twenty 
dollars would go to the cricket club, another twenty towards a group 
photograph, the remainder to a grand banquet at which "there will 
probably be such a display of speechifying and wit as would . . . astonish 
the mind of any weak-minded individual. . . ." 

The score of years encompassing the sixties and seventies were 
sandwiched between the anxieties of the fifties and the anguish of the 
eighties. No matter what was happening politically at the administra- 
tive level, the same hilarious and sad things as have always happened 
were taking place among the boys. A cow was chased upstairs by some 
boys, who tied its tail to the bell rope. New boys were roasted over the 
open top of the stove in the long study. Sigmund Samuel, a future busi- 
nessman, unprepared for the classical education in a school which 



trained for the profession, learned "nothing but misery" and left for the 
Model School, "which was like moving from hell to heaven." 5 A boy 
fined twenty-six and a half cents for carving his name in the outhouses 
gave Cockburn exactly that: one of the coppers was cut in two. A love- 
letter found in the College was printed in The College Times: "My dearest 
Willie, I saw you the other day on King Street. I wanted to speak to you 
so badly. I hope you will be at church on Sunday both morning and 
evening. Dear Willie — I will be down King Street to day, I hope I will 
see you very much. Answer soon and now I must close my short note 
and believe to remain your loving, loving friend. E." 

For the most part the boys felt that they had had good times, had 
liked their masters, had made good friends. They had played hard, 
some of them, for the honour of the College and worked hard, some of 
them, to maintain its prestige. They were good days, made all the more 
so because the school was well-run and prosperous. The sun shone less 
brightly in the eighties. 





COCKBURN remained at THE COLLEGE long enough to greet his 
successor; for the first time in UCC's history there was no discontin- 
' uity in administration. The government's chief criterion for the 
new principal was someone who could muffle the gnashing of legisla- 
tive, university, and high school teeth whenever the College endowment 
was mentioned. There is evidence that some would have liked Mart- 
land to have the post, even though he was fifty-three at the time; he had 
served Cockburn well for nineteen years and was an obvious choice. Po- 
litical considerations being all-important, however, the government ap- 
pointed John Milne Buchan, MA. 

Buchan had come to Canada from the United States as an infant 
but was in fact a Canadian. He had been educated at the grammar 
school in Hamilton and had earned his degree from University College 
with a silver medal in modern languages. While at the university he 
had been a study master for two terms at UCC, then a master for a year. 
At the age of twenty he had become headmaster of the Hamilton 
Grammar School, which became the Hamilton Collegiate Institute, 
considered one of the four best in the province. In 1873 he had been 
promoted to high school inspector in modern languages and then had 
supervised the secondary education of the province with two friends of 
UCC — Dr. J. A. McLellan, one of Cockburn's staff appointments, and S. 
A. Marling, the boy-poet who had extolled the British heritage back in 
the forties. Buchan was described as a teacher with no peer in Canada, 
comparable to Arnold of Rugby. Such hyperbole can usually be dis- 
counted, but he was obviously highly thought of in the Ontario system 



and a prime choice to conciliate the high school masters. Buchan had 
two other distinctions: he was the first principal who was not a classicist 
and he had co-authored the passionate Grammar School Masters' 
anti-UCC pamphlet of 1868. 

To Buchan, some masters at ucc looked a little doddery. Ryerson 
had once said that the sound education of a whole generation of chil- 
dren must not be sacrificed for the sake of incompetent, elderly teach- 
ers. Buchan, a new broom hoping to sweep clean, told the Minister of 
Education that Thompson was getting old (at 65), Wedd (at 51) was 
less efficient about discipline than he would like, and Brown (5 1 ) actu- 
ally had poor discipline. The likelihood is that these immensely experi- 
enced men had fallen into conducting classes in their own ways and 
that their casual discipline did not fit Buchan's ideas. An order-in-coun- 
cil was passed relieving them of their duties, but it must have been res- 
cinded because they all stayed on. 

The bulk of the faculty remained stable under Buchan, but three 
interesting men joined ucc and outstayed him. A. Y. Scott and D. G. 
Gordon both earned their MDs while teaching at UCC. Scott taught sci- 
ence for thirteen years, and then became a lecturer at the Ontario Col- 
lege of Pharmacy and Trinity Medical College. Andrew Stevenson 
replaced the aging Thompson and taught English for seven years. He 
was later principal of Arthur High School and on the faculty of educa- 
tion at Queen's. 

The year after Buchan arrived the old refrain against the College 
was taken up once more in the legislature. The disendowment of UCC 
would allow three possibilities: the buildings could be used by the legis- 
lature, whose own buildings were a disgrace; the high schools could 
divide up the money; the university could take over the funds. Nobody 
suggested that all three could happen, and the drums seemed to beat 
most loudly for the university. 

The College had friends, however, both inside and outside the uni- 
versity convocation. The first signs of support appeared in early 1882 
when a group of Old Boys gathered to discuss the situation. 1 Because 
there was no immediate threat to the College, the organization dis- 
persed. Fifty-two years had produced some prominent and determined 



men, however, and anyone who wanted to take away what they con- 
ceived to belong to the College would have to fight for it. 

In mid- 1 882 there was more belt-tightening and a general reorgani- 
zation of the College staff. A statute was passed laying down the 
number of masters allowed in each department and the salaries for 
each. 2 One master was to be in charge of boarding-house, and his salary 
was fixed. Boarders who could not be fitted into the boarding-house 
would be shared out among the masters, but no fees would go to any- 
body. Lastly, any of the three department heads — classics, mathema- 
tics, English — could become principal. The classical monopoly was 
finally broken up. 

Suddenly and sadly in July 1885 Buchan died of Bright's disease. 
His last act had been to write a clear and courageous memorandum 
about UCC, outlining what he conceived to be its distinguishing features 
and its justification. It is certain that Buchan — the product of, and late 
leader in, the provincial system — had seen something special in the 
strange college he had once assailed but now captained. He wanted his 
conclusions on record. 

Buchan described the College as a statute-governed boarding- 
school, religiously conducted, non-sectarian, and inexpensive. As such, 
it was a necessary complement to both the non-denominational high 
schools and the private, denominational boarding-schools. In terms of 
character-formation, the high schools could not do very much; UCC 
could. It was different — not in degree, but in kind. Coming from the 
highly respected Buchan, this was a powerfully supportive statement 
and a welcome one. 

Whether the College's history would have been different had he 
lived, it is hard to say. He was a distinguished man, a frequent contrib- 
utor to educational and other periodicals, and for two years president of 
the Canadian Institute. He was not principal at Upper Canada long 
enough to have a lasting impact. 

The suddenness of Buchan's death and the lateness in the year 
meant that a new principal needed to be selected with all speed. Once 
again Martland came to the fore, and the Cabinet instructed George 
W. Ross, the Minister of Education, to offer the post to him. Ross was 



not sympathetic to the decision and made the offer in such a way as to 
ensure a refusal. We cannot be sure of Martland's reaction to this treat- 
ment, but a measure of resentment, held in check for a time, burst out 
in the early nineties and helped to undermine the man whom Ross 

The appointment went to George Dickson. Educated in Markham, 
Richmond Hill, and Whitby, with a BA from the University of Michi- 
gan and another from Victoria College, Dickson had taught widely in 
both elementary and high schools. From 1873 to 1885 he had been 
principal of the Hamilton Collegiate Institute, succeeding Buchan in 
that post. The important thing about Dickson's appointment was that, 
like Buchan, he was a Canadian with much experience in the Ontario 
system. This was a point of great political significance: it meant that the 
hostile high school teachers could not condemn the College as strongly 
as if the principal had come from England. Less important, perhaps, 
was the fact that he was a Presbyterian. 

Dickson took over a school which was in very good shape. Despite 
Buchan's doubts about some of the masters, the teaching was outstand- 
ing. The classical department was extraordinary: Wedd, Martland, and 
Jackson were three of the greatest teachers in the entire history of the 
College. Brown, the first mathematical master, would retire soon, but 
he was ably supported by Sparling. Dickson himself took over the 
English department, with Andrew Stevenson supporting him. W. H. 
Fraser taught French and German. Henry Brock, with seven years 
under his belt, looked after the juniors. The school had almost three 
hundred students, half of whom were boarders. A year later the figures 
had skyrocketed: 167 day boys, 177 boarders. 

The College had had bad times, during which its imminent demise 
had been predicted. The irony of the mid-eighties was that its very 
robust health almost killed it. The endowment had become too much 
for other constituencies to stomach. In June 1886 Chancellor Edward 
Blake of the University of Toronto, who had been College head boy of 
1850, made a speech at convocation which began UCC's metamorphosis. 
The university, said Blake, drew from a wide range of communities: 
only 23 out of 216 matriculation candidates had come from UCC and 



the Toronto Collegiate Institute, the remainder from over sixty other 
schools. He had watched with pride the growth of the secondary educa- 
tional system in the province and its steady climb to higher standards. 
A point had now been reached where ucc — an anomaly dear to his 
and many hearts — needed "rearranging." 3 Toronto had only one colle- 
giate institute whose expenditure and enrolment were smaller than 
Hamilton's! Toronto needed two collegiate institutes — one in the east, 
one in the west — one to specialize in languages, the other to specialize 
in science. Upper Canada College should be one of these, "dependent 
for her support and maintenance upon the same conditions ... as other 
institutions of a like class in the province." 4 The audience cheered. 
Blake went on to say that the whole system could be made more 
efficient, as could the university from which the endowment was taken 
"and to which it should be returned." 5 More cheers. Blake's ideas never 
came to fruition, but the speech was the opening gun in a crucial battle. 

The College's year of crisis came in 1887. In February it was evident 
that the Liberal government, just returned to power, was supporting 
university federation, bound to be an expensive proposition. The Col- 
lege endowment and valuable downtown site were obvious sources of 
funds. On March 1 2 a Notice of Motion was introduced by a Liberal 
named Waters: "in the opinion of this House the time has come when 
Upper Canada College should be abolished ... as the instruction given 
in the College can be obtained in any well-conducted high school in the 
province." 6 Waters added that the College's real estate should go to the 

This motion was a clear signal to the school's supporters that if they 
did not take positive action there would be no more Upper Canada 
College. Eleven days later a large, enthusiastic meeting of Old Boys was 
held at the College to protest the government's obvious intent and to try 
to do something about it. The meeting was chaired by John Macdon- 
ald, father of A. A. Macdonald, a prominent master of the nineties. 
There was a host of eminent speakers all supporting the College in their 
own ways. Supportive letters from many Old Boys were read, including 
one from Lieutenant-Governor John Beverley Robinson. A resolution 
was framed protesting any interference with the endowment, and the 


George R. R. Cockburn, the principal 
( 1 86 1 -8 1 ) who turned the College's for- 
tunes around (Upper Canada College). 

John Martland, classics master 1862-91. 
Known to the boys as "Gentle," he put 
boarding on its feet and became enor- 
mously powerful in all College affairs 
(Upper Canada College). 

James Brown, Old Boy and first mathe- 
matics master 1856-87 (J. Ross Robert- 
son Collection, Metropolitan Toronto 


The Fourth Form of 1868. This is the earliest photograph of a group of UCC stu- 
dents (Upper Canada College). Probably a typical group. The ages varied from 
twelve to eighteen. The boys pursued a variety of careers: the ministry, medicine, 
pharmacy, banking, farming, architecture, law, teaching. 

The 1872 College Times staff (Upper Canada College). Standing: J. A. 

Paterson, E. B. Brown, F. E. Hodgins, W. N. Ponton, R. Atkinson 

Seated: H. E. Morphy, W. M. Biggar, W. A. Langton, J. G. McKeown, 

R. D. Richardson. 

WAM<s.d»~~6.,gc&ft ".. 


{Left) George Dickson, principal 1885- 
95, a victim of circumstances, rumour, 
and politics (J. Ross Robertson Collec- 
tion, Metropolitan Toronto Library). 
{Below) George Parkin, principal 1895- 
1902, who brought the College back 
from its lowest ebb to a peak of pride, to 
independence, and into the twentieth 
century. The picture was taken many 
years after he left the College (photo by 
J. Russell & Sons). 

{Opposite top) The King Street 
school as it looked after the big 
1877 renovation (Metropolitan 
Toronto Library). {Bottom) The 
Deer Park school in its earliest 
days (Public Archives of 

Stephen Leacock, head boy 1887 
and modern-languages master 
1889-99 (J- R° ss Robertson Col- 
lection, Metropolitan Toronto 

W. S. Jackson, classics master and 

outstanding College figure 1877- 

191 7 (Upper Canada College). 

A. A. Macdonald, head boy 1886, 
great scholar and athlete, the first 
master to be in charge of College 
games 1891-1902 (University of 
Toronto Archives). 


E. R. (later Sir Edward) Peacock, 
who was influential in all aspects 
of College life 1895- 1902 (Univer- 
sity of Toronto Archives). 

Robert Holmes, art master 1891- 
1920; later President of the 
Ontario College of Art (The College 
Times, 1930-32). 


p ' 

m . » 

5j **:. 

(/16ow) Typical classroom interior of the i8gi building, taken in 1914 (Upper Canada 
College). (Below) Principal Parkin in his study (Public Archives of Canada). 

J •'& 

Boys of the nineties being boys (Upper 
Canada College). 


meeting ended with a unanimous motion that Macdonald and the com- 
mittee of management 7 lay the meeting's views before the government. 

The newspapers were full of the event. The Telegram was most sup- 
portive. The government, it thought, would be unlikely to make any 
radical changes. "The college must be preserved." 8 The News took the 
other tack, stressing the glaring injustice of the enormous endowment 
for a school whose tuition costs excluded the sons of the working class 
and was mainly a superior day-school for the sons of Toronto profes- 
sional men and merchants. It held up to ridicule George Denison's 
unfortunate references to the occupations and professions of UCC par- 
ents, which contradicted what he was trying to prove. Denison's cry, 
"Have the rich people no rights?" 9 did not go down very well with the 
News. The Globe took a middle course. The paper was critical of the 
arrogant stance, mainly Denison's, that the endowment was being sto- 
len. The Globe liked the fact that UCC was different, and that the differ- 
ence was healthy for the provincial educational scene. One letter to the 
editor made a point considered heresy by Old Boys of the time: the Col- 
lege deserved no special favours because famous men like Blake and 
Thomas Moss (head boy of 1854, later Chief Justice of Ontario) had 
attended; they would have risen to distinction anywhere. 

March 24 must have been the date that the UCC committee made its 
case, because the next day a compromise decision was made: instead of 
being abolished, the College was to be moved and made purely residen- 
tial. The Old Boys had pressed the government hard: if they wanted 
the King and Simcoe site, they would have to give the College an alter- 
native somewhere else — they were not going to be allowed to destroy an 
old and valuable school. The politicians were in a quandary, with eco- 
nomic considerations paramount. They had to have the money and 
UCC was a ready source, but there was a real split between the support- 
ers of the College and those of university federation. The man who 
turned the tide was T. B. Pardee, a Sarnia MPP with a son boarding at 
the College. Many years later, S. H. Blake, the chancellor's brother, 
said that "UCC owes its life to Pardee's efforts, broad and far-seeing 
statesmanship, powerful influence and good will." 10 

The decision was in the great tradition of government compromises 



but the clause about the school being purely residential meant that the 
new site would be some distance from Toronto. Was there a large 
enough market to support such a school in the country? Nobody knew, 
but the inference was that the government would not be sorry to see the 
College expire in some wilderness. Nobody could accuse them of not 
having tried to save it, and if worst came to worst, the buildings could 
be used for a lunatic asylum. 

The News muttered that the government had conceded to the "cla- 
morous outcries of those in favour of caste privilege"" and denigrated 
the arrogant, bullying tone of some of the College's defenders, which 
convinced the News they had a weak case. The Toronto World did not 
want UCC abolished; it filled a need, and the World was sorry to see the 
attempt to array one class against another. R. E. Kingsford, a Toronto 
lawyer and an Old Boy who was a member of the university senate, 
declared what he believed to be the real reason behind the govern- 
ment's move. In addition to various inter-college troubles, the universi- 
ty's own endowment had been scandalously mismanaged, more funds 
were needed, and the vice-chancellor, Mulock, had proposed the feder- 
ation scheme in order to get them. The obvious source of such funds was 
the College endowment, which was only going back whence it came, 
since the King's College endowment had been largely plundered by 

G. W. Ross outlined the history of the endowment, stating that the 
University of Toronto now needed the money and that therefore he was 
asking the House to transfer to the university the whole of the College's 
endowment: $283,163, representing an annual income of $15,572. The 
King Street site was appraised at $325,000, of which UCC would receive 
$100,000 as a permanent endowment. The government would allow the 
College $30,000 for a new site and equipment, plus $120,000 to erect a 
new building for 250 students. The remaining $75,000 would be the 
university's. By these and various other measures, the university's 
increased expenditures would be more than offset. 

Ross defended the compromise by describing UCC as the only high- 
standard, non-denominational boys' residential school in the province 
and, therefore, a useful model for others. The teaching was completely 



broken down into departments, more so than at any other high school. 
The pupils were carefully classified, placed, and graded. Thorough dis- 
cipline was a characteristic of the College. The mental growth was 
steady, not forced. Games, gymnastics, and military drill were better at 
UCC than anywhere else. But there was another reason: the develop- 
ment of character, which can only come from the personal contact and 
influence of the true teacher upon the scholar. Here the high schools 
were weak. Furthermore, Ross downgraded uniformity in an educa- 
tional system. He wanted the College to be somewhat independent and 

Ross then dealt with four objections which might arise to the Col- 
lege's continued existence. Its endowment income of fifteen thousand 
dollars would now be five thousand per year, very little more than the 
largest high school's. Its existence as a school for the sons of the rich he 
dealt with by announcing that the fees would be raised to make it self- 
sustaining and that since the rich paid taxes for public and high schools 
they had a right to a facility in which to educate their children at their 
own expense. The privileged locality — Toronto — was brushed aside; 
UCC would now be almost exclusively residential, with day pupils 
admitted only after all boarder applications had been satisfied. (This 
was a change probably forced by Toronto parents who did not want 
their sons to board.) Lastly, UCC would no longer be an anomaly in the 
system. It would be brought very firmly inside the provincial system, 
with entrance examinations, and a staff with the same qualifications as 
those in high schools and subject to the same inspection. 

Ross then appealed to the historical and common sense of the House 
not to destroy an institution which was different from any other in the 
province and always had been, an institution which had done good 
work for so long, supplying the void before there was a university, then 
filling the university when it first started. Ever since, it had sent students 
on to university and thence out into every honourable and influential 
walk of life. 12 This was not the time to abolish a school with such an 
individual record and one of which even Eton or Rugby would be 

Ross had done his homework thoroughly and made a great appeal, 



even to the Opposition. Ironically, Waters, who had introduced the 
original motion, declared his surprise at the government's action, not 
having expected it to do anything at all. Waters was a man who saw the 
English public schools as bulwarks of class distinction and was afraid 
UCC would have the same effect in Canada. His real hope was that it 
would be established and maintained by private enterprise, a thought 
which many others shared during the next ten years. 

On April 23, 1887, university federation came into being, and 
Upper Canada College started yet another life, free from university 
control for the first time in fifty years. The College was to have five 
trustees' 3 appointed by the government, who would be in charge of 
financial and business matters. Ross himself would make all appoint- 
ments by order-in-council. The principal had the internal management 
of the school. Masters were to have the same (or better) qualifications as 
high school masters. The government wanted the school to be entirely 
residential but did not want to make that provision a part of the statute. 
The original appendage, "and Royal Grammar School," was dropped 
from the College's official title. 

So much of its history had now gone: much of its endowment, its 
connection with the earlier grammar school, its affinity with King's 
College and then the University of Toronto — all gone. It remained, in 
the years left in the nineteenth century, to try to survive under the Min- 
ister of Education. 

In January the new Board of Trustees, under the chairmanship of 
John Beverley Robinson, met for the first time and drew up a fresh set 
of College regulations. The academic organization was changed; the 
disciplines were divided into five. English was under Dickson himself, 
who was listed as principal and first English master. Wedd was first 
classical master, Sparling first mathematical master, and Scott in 
charge of science. A modern languages department was an innovation. 
Drawing, music, gymnastics, and drill were listed on the curriculum. 
For the first time, the College year was divided into three terms rather 
than four. The holidays were the same as in the high schools, the text- 
books had to be authorized by the Department of Education, there 
were written examinations for admission and promotion, and the stan- 



dard for the third form (probably grade nine) had to equal that of the 
high schools. The courses were meticulously laid out in two streams: a 
four-year option leading to university and the learned professions, a 
two-year option leading to civil or military service or commercial pur- 

As plans got under way to move the College, half a dozen or so 
interesting changes took place on the staff. While Martland was on a 
visit to the Near East, his place was taken by Charles W. Gordon, who, 
among many other distinctions, became Canada's best-selling author of 
that era under the pseudonym Ralph Connor. In 1887 John Fothering- 
ham came to UCC for a four-year stint and then became a doctor. The 
same year Archibald Hope Young, head boy of 1882, joined the mod- 
ern languages department and stayed for five years before moving to 
Trinity College. Young remained intensely interested in UCC all his life, 
eventually becoming a governor. In 1916 he edited the mammoth Roll 
of Pupils Jaunary 1830 to June 1916. Three first-class mathematicians 
taught for short periods at UCC as its downtown days were drawing to 
an end. Alfred De Lury moved on to a professorship in mathematics at 
the University of Toronto, became dean of residence at University Col- 
lege, and was a well-known Canadian astronomer and an author 
of Ontario high school textbooks. A. C. McKay eventually went to 
McMaster, became professor of mathematics and physics there, and 
finally became chancellor. W. F. Seymour filled in for Sparling in 1890- 
91, then was a Fellow in Mathematics at the University of Toronto and 
subsequently principal of Niagara High School. In 1889 Stephen Lea- 
cock, head boy of 1887, returned for ten years in residence, teaching 
modern languages. With the exception of Leacock, none of these men 
stayed long, but they were outstanding teachers and no doubt had a 
powerful impact on the students. 

From mid- 1 887 through 1891 most energies were directed towards 
relocating the College. Dickson and the architect, G. F. Durand of Lon- 
don, visited the best schools in the eastern United States. In February 
1888 Durand presented his plan for the new buildings. The government 
suggested a site at Avenue Road and St. Clair, but this was objected to 
by the Site Committee because it was too small (fourteen acres), had no 



water, and needed expensive grading. The trustees then looked further 
north and asked Lawrence Baldwin, who owned a large area in the dis- 
trict, if he would exchange the site for thirty acres north of Clinton Ave- 
nue (Lonsdale Road). Baldwin was indeed willing, and also contracted 
to widen Avenue Road to 125 feet from St. Clair to Clinton if the Col- 
lege agreed to plant a double row of trees up the avenue. The exact site 
was finally chosen, the plans were approved, and a survey was ordered. 

When tenders for the new building came in, the lowest was about 
eighty thousand dollars above the estimate. Costs were cut by a reduc- 
tion in the height of the tower and the elimination of some extras. 
Finally, on April 2, 1889, ground was broken for the new Upper Can- 
ada College.' 4 Unfortunately during the next several months the archi- 
tect was very ill and he died within the year. 

The trustees were shocked to find that construction had not been 
adequately supervised: flooring and plastering had preceded the light- 
ing arrangements, resulting in much tearing up and pulling down of 
already completed work. There were also complaints that some of the 
plumbing was virtually useless. 

While the building was going up, the trustees had prepared a spe- 
cial memorandum on the use of the grounds. South-west of the building 
was a field 150 yards square, level, and with water pipes everywhere; it 
was to be used solely for cricket. North-west, another level, watered 
field, no yards by 65 yards, would be for football, with several play- 
grounds in between for recess recreation and baseball, "if it is thought 
proper to introduce the game." South-east of the building was space for 
about ten tennis courts. North-east was a rough playground for junior 
boys. The area to the north of the building was intended for an outdoor 
rink, 150 feet by 100 feet, with a concrete base which would be used for 
drill and calisthenics in the autumn and the spring. In addition, the 
memorandum called for a running track, ornamental shrubs and trees, 
shade trees on the west and north boundaries, and asphalt walks every- 

In June 1891 the trustees produced a progress report which outlined 
the two hardest challenges facing ucc: a reduction often thousand dol- 
lars per annum in College income and the maintenance of high stan- 



dards in the new surroundings. The report was optimistic that the Col- 
lege could meet both of these. Somehow, however, communications had 
broken down. When Durand and Dickson had visited the States, they 
had discovered that $120,000 was not nearly enough to build a school 
like Groton or Lawrenceville, where the buildings cost $3,000 per pupil. 
As a consequence, the trustees had gone ahead and authorized expendi- 
tures well beyond the prescribed limit. The building alone had cost 
$270,000 ($1,350 per pupil), with the grounds adding another $50,000. 
Over $326,000 had already been spent, with more to come on a vegeta- 
ble garden, a horse and cart, cold storage, a gymnasium, a covered- 
rink-cum-drill-hall-cum-recreation-room, a hospital, masters' houses, 
and so on. The report claimed that other residential schools all had 
these amenities, and the College should be launched on its new career 
second to none. The trustees had evidently decided that since the Col- 
lege had been deprived of its endowment and would find a new start 
very difficult, the government would need to be more generous. They 
knew that the value of the old College site had increased, and felt that 
the College was entitled to its share of that asset. The trustees reckoned 
shrewdly. In the end the entire transfer of endowment moneys and site 
was worth at least $650,000; the College got a fair share of that large 

The university board was outraged by the extravagant expendi- 
tures. The ghost of Sir John Colborne seemed to be tramping around 
Deer Park. They sent a message of protest to the Lieutenant-Governor, 
asking for a hearing before another cent was spent. They claimed they 
had not been consulted and had no idea of the scale of expenditures. 
The College, having used up all its money, was now claiming an addi- 
tional $100,000 as a charge on the sale of the old site. The university 
was extremely annoyed. The Lieutenant-Governor politely acknowl- 
edged the protest. 

On July 3 the bell of the old College building rang for the last time, 
and the next day, when it closed for the holidays, John Ross Robertson 
returned and spoke with nostalgia of the seven years he had spent at 
UCC. On August 29 a farewell cricket match was played. Then Upper 
Canada College trudged four miles north into the forest of Deer Park, 



to survive or to perish. To ensure its survival, the Upper Canada Col- 
lege Old Boys' Association officially began the same day. 

With the College gone, the university was now in firm possession of 
the old site. There was much public interest and speculation about its 
future use. Some wondered whether, in fact, the university's ownership 
was legal: when Colborne had snatched it, had the property belonged 
to the city or the province? O. A. Howland, a Toronto lawyer, MPP, and 
future mayor of Toronto, thought the city owned it. The city solicitor 
was equally positive that the city had no claim. A deputation from the 
Humane Society petitioned twice to have the area turned into a public 
park with an art gallery and a museum; the petition, stating that the 
British government had originally intended Russell Square to be a 
park, was signed by an immense number of people. The Globe came out 
strongly in favour often acres in the very heart of Toronto [to] be kept 
as an open space for all time."' 5 Another proposal had a palatial hotel 
being built on the eastern portion of the grounds. As time went on, the 
property continued to appreciate in value, but the buildings deteriorat- 
ed, especially the boarding-house, which was seriously damaged by 
vandals. The presence of Wedd, Sparling, Brock, and the janitor, still 
living in their houses, could not prevent the depredations. Ultimately 
the property became a commercial block, but a remnant of the original 
College boarding-house still remains at the south-west corner of Ade- 
laide and Duncan. 

On October 14, 1891, the new College in Deer Park was formally 
opened, with the Belt Line railway 16 running special trains for the 
event. The building which people saw that day stood for sixty-seven 
years and became a well-known Toronto landmark. In Lost Toronto Wil- 
liam Dendy describes it as it stood isolated at the top of Avenue Road: 

Inevitably, given the date, the style of the new building was Roman- 
esque Revival. It was built on a foundation of roughly finished Credit 
Valley sandstone, with the upper walls of red brick ornamented with 
terra cotta panels and string courses. The basic arrangement of the 
design — a projecting triple-arched entrance, a central tower, and 
flanking wings forming a quadrangle behind — was very common at 



the time, and had become firmly established in Toronto with Lennox's 
City Hall (1889-99) an d Waite's Parliament Buildings in Queen's 
Park (1886-92). The location of the prayer hall, filling the centre por- 
tion of the second floor in the main block, and the tower overhead, 
with its stylized pediment and the college arms in carved terra cotta, 17 
also recalled similar features in the King Street buildings. In fact, the 
new tower, rising 165 feet above the ground, like a church steeple 
above the surrounding trees, became the symbol of the college — an 
ever present reminder to students, and to the city below the hill, of the 
importance of the college and the influence of the alumni that had 
been shaped by it. 

The design of the new building was complicated. It united such 
widely differing elements as a basement armoury and a principal's res- 
idence, in the pavilion on the right, which was carefully designed with 
its own corner bay window and a side entrance. Illustrating the preoc- 
cupation of the time with sanitation and healthy living, Durand plan- 
ned 300 cubic feet of air and at least 30 square feet of floor space for 
each student in the classrooms. Window area was to be at least one 
quarter of the floor area and windows were located not more than 18 
feet from any pupil, positioned so that light in most rooms fell only 
from the left, to reduce shadow and glare. The unusual heating system 
included forced-air registers under the windows and exhaust vents on 
the inside walls of the rooms through which the stale air was drawn to 
main exhaust shafts. The dormitories were carefully organized to pro- 
vide 1,000 cubic feet of space for each pupil, with no more than two to 
a room — standards that were on the whole appreciably higher than 
those of any middle-class house of the period. 

The News rhapsodized that the spray of Niagara Falls could be seen 
on a clear day from the higher windows, while lovely farming land 
stretched to the west and north. The Canadian Architect and Builder was 
testier: "The college is rather residential than scholastic in design, and 
seems to lack that nobility of effect which we would desire in our Alma 

A feature of special interest was the room set aside for the commer- 
cial course. This contained a counter and a series of wickets set up to 
simulate a real bank by means of which boys could learn every branch 



of routine banking. There were also five typewriters, others to be added 
as required. A part of the curriculum consisted of business composition: 
telegrams, advertisements, committee minutes, and so forth. 

At the end of the first year in the new location the trustees reported 
that for the first time in the College's history, the income from tuition 
and residence fees was greater than expenses. The surplus of over four 
thousand dollars so enraptured them that they spent all but $4.29 on a 
skating rink, a shed for the horses, a swimming pool, and sundry other 
improvements. The enrolment was reported as 353 with 202 boarders, 
with an average attendance of eighty per cent as opposed to the high 
schools' fifty-nine per cent. Thirty-three boys had gone to university or 
the Royal Military College.' 8 Cricket, football, and all the other games 
were thriving. Two new challenge cups had made their appearance 
— the A. A. Macdonald Trophy for cross-country in the autumn and 
the Hendrie Trophy for the steeplechase in May. The report said that 
UCC was the only government boarding-school directly responsible to 
the public, and made a plea for financial aid. There must have been 
some premonition of lean years ahead. 

The years 1892 to 1894 present a confusing and contradictory peri- 
od. On the surface, at least, the College put on a brave face. The run- 
ning track was built by the boys under Jackson's guidance, the 
swimming tank and rink were both completed, and the Board of Stew- 
ards began its long life. 19 Yet under the facade the College administra- 
tion was in trouble, and Dickson, as early as the College's second term 
in Deer Park, was beginning to feel the pressure. 

The College had spent an enormous amount in the move, and in a 
general mood of euphoria the faculty was expanded. With the journey 
north there had been a massive turnover, the first such in sixty years. 
Old stalwarts Wedd and Martland had retired after a combined service 
record of seventy years. Faced with replacing half of the staff, the Min- 
ister of Education did nobly, despite the isolation of the new site and the 
flat salary scale. Four good new men arrived at Deer Park at the same 
time as the new building. W. A. Neilson joined Dickson in the English 
department for four years; a renowned Shakespeare scholar, he moved 
on to Bryn Mawr, Harvard, and Columbia, eventually becoming presi- 



dent of Smith College. A. A. Macdonald, head boy of 1886, had gone to 
Breslau and Heidelberg before returning to Toronto and earning his 
MA in modern languages. He joined Jackson in the classical depart- 
ment. He was also appointed to oversee the entire sports program, the 
first time UCC had such an appointment. Macdonald, a champion miler 
and half-miler himself, gave an enormous impetus to College sports, 
and today's enthusiasm for games can be traced back largely to the 
foundation he and Jackson laid. George Johnson took over the commer- 
cial department and ran it with real drive for fifteen years. He had been 
a public school principal and achieved fame for composing "When You 
and I Were Young, Maggie." As drawing master, Robert Holmes 
joined the College and stayed for twenty-nine years, eventually becom- 
ing president of the Ontario Society of Artists. During 1892 and 1893, 
Ross added Pelham Edgar, who later joined the university as a lecturer 
in French and professor of English, and John H. Collinson, who went 
on to Trinity College School and then became first headmaster of High- 
field School in Hamilton. These latter two did not give enormously long 
service, but like all the others were excellent in their departments. 

Apart from this faculty turnover, Dickson experienced a long suc- 
cession of other difficulties. He poured out his heart in a perpetual series 
of messages to the Minister of Education. The problems had to do with 
money, buildings, and human beings. The financial problems were end- 
less. Old Boys' promises were falling flat: they were unwilling to make 
contributions in case of another endowment confiscation as in 1887. 
Overdrafts at the bank were commonplace. Salaries were still somewhat 
better than high school teachers', but the potential for raises was 
bleak. 20 It was impossible to get first-class men with second-class sala- 
ries, said Dickson, accusing Ross of being prepared to appoint men at 
six hundred dollars. Tradesmen were pestering the College for pay- 
ment; trustees were dunned in the streets. The water bill was not paid; 
Baldwin had hooked into the water main, and there was no water. 
Baths were discontinued and pails were carried to flush the water clos- 
ets. "The end is not far off," wailed Dickson. "We must have a water 
supply or dismiss the College." 21 The equipment, especially for physical 
and manual training, was inferior to that of other schools and this led to 



two problems: boys were leaving UCC for better-equipped and less 
expensive schools; in poor weather, boys at the College were idle and 
spent their time running about the halls, lounging in the bedrooms, and 
walking the streets, giving the College a bad name. Theft in the school 
was rampant. 

Dickson was no happier about the new facilities: the heating caused 
illness; the laundry ruined the flannels; even when the water ran, the 
baths were useless because the water came through the ceilings to the 
floor beneath; and the lighting was not good enough for the boys to 
study. By 1893 the northern part of the top storey in the centre of the 
building had settled and a man had to come in to tighten the girders. 
The lack of a hospital was a crucial fault in the new set-up. One winter 
sixty boys were sick at one time, the victims of food sent from home. 
There were continued requests for an isolation hospital, particularly 
after a pneumonia death in the winter of 1894. A reporter circulated 
false rumours that there was diphtheria at the College. During a scarla- 
tina outbreak the College had to be closed while the school was fumi- 

The discipline problems were, though probably exaggerated, real 
enough. A boy was withdrawn because he was punished for lying, smok- 
ing on the street going to church, and puffing smoke in ladies' faces. 
Boys were accused of frequenting saloons, and of interrupting the 
church services at Deer Park and smoking around the church doors. 
Two or three boys were expelled, with Dickson taking the brunt of the 
parents' ire — "incompetent and a liar." 22 Roughs with clubs and dogs 
attacked College boys, and Dickson needed help to go out and rescue 
them. College fences were torn down, garden implements were stolen, 
cattle were turned into the grounds at night. In March 1892 a College 
boy died from a wound suffered in an unsupervised fencing bout. There 
was constant trouble with Christ Church, Deer Park, which had added 
seventy or so seats, at some inconvenience, for the College boys. When 
reports, false or otherwise, of College boys' misbehaviour at church 
came in, Dickson withdrew the older boys and sent them to the Church 
of the Messiah; he then withdrew the juniors as well, claiming the pew 
rent was too high. Unfortunately he had not consulted the Board of 



Trustees, a member of which was Larratt Smith, a member of Christ 
Church. Dickson was accused of a lack of tact and judgment, and the 
reverberations of this contretemps were infinite. 

Dickson had constant trouble with Ross. In addition to having to be 
consulted on all matters great and small (everything from buying a 
twenty-cent door hinge to building a rink), Ross was in the habit of tak- 
ing steps of his own without letting Dickson know. One of these was 
changing day-boy fees three times between 1888 and 1895, ending 
where they began, at sixty dollars; another was giving people permis- 
sion to enter the College's water main without consulting the trustees. 
He claimed the College used too much coal, disagreed with Dickson on 
salaries and the need for advertising, and generally interfered in mat- 
ters Dickson thought best left to the principal. 

The worst blow to Dickson was what he perceived as disloyalty 
among a group of Old Boys, including some members of the board. He 
was certain that rumours were being spread about the low tone and bad 
morality of the student body. Dickson included in his accusation cur- 
rent members of the board who were up for reappointment — Larratt 
Smith, S. C. Wood, and W. B. McMurrich. He asserted that they had 
joined the College's enemies and should not be reappointed. At the bot- 
tom of the trouble was the retired John Martland, who Dickson feared 
wanted to return in some capacity. 

Dickson spoke frequently of his anxiety and his hopelessness, of 
being overworked and blamed for everything. It is certain he was 
overworked — looking after accounts, ordering supplies, directing the 
servants, breaking in the new masters, teaching English (and at one 
point science) — small wonder he complained of insomnia! Despite his 
fatigue, however, Dickson was not without imagination. Early on he 
presented to the board an ingenious plan to accommodate the boarders 
being turned away. This plan called for the building and equipping, by 
private venture, of supplementary boarding-houses connected with the 
College. Masters would live in the houses, and rent would go to the 
builders. Dickson thought five hundred boys could be accommodated in 
this way. The plan, of course, was stillborn. 

The years 1893 and 1894 saw things getting worse and worse. A 



drop in boarders and a financial deficit were bad enough, but outside 
the school there was a financial depression and high school competition 
was becoming keener. The accumulation of grievances on all sides was 
wearing nerves thin. A milkman whose cattle were impounded for tres- 
passing threatened to burn the College down. There was an episode 
with College boys drunk on a train. Most important, the split between 
the Board of Trustees and Dickson was widening, and steps were being 
taken by certain Old Boys to effect a change in the governing of the 
College which would affect Dickson powerfully. 

In November 1893 R. E. Kingsford wrote to Ross recommending a 
change in the College. To be specific, he thought friends of UCC should 
have a much stronger voice in its management. They would thus be 
more willing to help financially. Kingsford pointed to the constant trou- 
ble and uncertainty at the school and said Old Boys would not help 
because they were afraid the remainder of the endowment would be 
confiscated. In February 1894 the Upper Canada College Old Boys' 
Association was incorporated, and by May its by-laws were drawn up. 
At the same time McMurrich, a board member, wrote to Ross about his 
eagerness to make UCC the Rugby of Canada, but he doubted whether 
Dickson was the man to do it. McMurrich was willing to make a fresh 
start with a new board, but unless Dickson was equally prepared, the 
task was hopeless. 

On May 5, 1894, a new Act gave UCC its sixth management. The 
board was expanded to nine trustees, five appointed by the Lieutenant- 
Governor, four by the Old Boys' Association. The first election was 
slated for July 1 . The Act made many other provisions, one of which 
confirmed the $100,000 endowment; another permitted the issuing of 
debentures to the amount of $25,000. 

Meanwhile, the important change of trustees was taking place. 
Robinson, Wood, McMurrich, and McLaren, who remained from the 
1887 board, were joined by the four OB A men: W. T. Boyd, W. M. 
Beatty, W. J. McMaster, and W. G. Gooderham. These two groups did 
not get along well together, with the result that the first four resigned. 
The Lieutenant-Governor then appointed J. J. Kingsmill (chairman), 
G. T. Denison, Henry Cawthra, and A. R. Creelman. 



From the first the new board was determined on a change of princi- 
pals. Dickson, sensing this, naively suggested Goldwin Smith for the 
ninth trustee, much alarming Denison. The board began to nibble 
away at Dickson as the year ended, asking for reports on masters' late- 
ness (quite often) and the incomplete state of preparation for the pupils' 
reports. The College Times came in for criticism for disparaging articles 
on the College's educational policies. 

At the same time, changes were taking place in the University of 
Toronto curriculum which necessitated changes at the College: more 
prominence to natural science, physics, and chemistry (at a time when 
Scott, the science master, had just been fired); better science equipment 
and a bigger laboratory; compulsory modern languages. In addition, a 
move was on foot to raise the matriculation standards. The College was 
entering the modern, changing world with no money and a desperate 

In March 1895 Dickson, his back against the wall, produced his last 
report, aimed at saving the College and himself. Day-boy fees should be 
raised. Local agents should be established in the United States to 
attract American boys. Masters should receive bonuses for getting boys. 
The bursar should be released; Dickson himself would do the work. His 
closing words were an understatement — "the present time is a serious 
crisis in the history of the school." 23 As a backdrop to Dickson's dance of 
death, a university committee was meeting to see whether or not more 
financial claims could be made against the College. 

On March 29, 1895, a remarkable document was delivered to Dick- 
son and all the College masters, over the signature of Morphy, the new 
bursar. It was a letter, sanctioned by the board and the Minister of 
Education, telling them that the engagement of all members of the 
teaching staff and officers of UCC was ended as of July I. The blow was 
softened by the information that some members would probably be re- 
engaged. (Kingsmill had told the Lieutenant-Governor he wanted to 
avoid the hurt feelings which would result from retiring individual mas- 
ters.) Two days later recommendations for the new administration were 
drawn up which provided for eight masters, two hundred pupils (half of 
whom were to be boarders), no exhibitions, and a saving on salaries of 



over two thousand dollars. The total salary bill was cut to $5,390, about 
half of Colborne's 1830 salary total. 

The press had a field day with the blanket dismissals. Saturday Night 
thought they were necessary and pontificated that the College could be 
the most successful and profitable boys' school on the continent if prop- 
erly managed. Dickson was characterized as "an excellent man in his 
way, but [not exactly] a model in breeding." 24 The Globe thought every- 
thing would be all right. The Telegram was outraged at the trustees' per- 
formance and called for them to throw off their mantle of silence and 
let the public know the reasons for their extraordinary behaviour. The 
World, which wanted a public investigation, reported that a large and 
influential delegation had visited the Premier of Ontario to protest 
against the notice of termination. Sir Oliver Mowat's response was eva- 
sive and anything but encouraging: there was no fault in Mr. Dickson; 
the trustees simply felt that another man could increase the enrolment. 
The Canadian Baptist feared that the College, described as originally a 
Church of England school, was falling under the influence of that 
denomination and warned against it. 

An enormous batch of letters displaying powerful anti-Anglican sen- 
timents came to the Minister of Education in defence of Dickson. The 
Old Boys group on the board was described as a farce, elected by only 
two hundred out of seven thousand, and engineered by Martland, who 
had travelled from coast to coast undermining Dickson. Some of the let- 
ters were wild. "If the government choose to turn ucc into a Lunatic 
Asylum I will say nothing but By God!! if they turn it over to ... a 
school for Anglican tories governed by such, the Mowat Government 
will hear of it." 25 The working committee of the Old Boys' Association 
was described as having 23 Anglicans, 2 Presbyterians, 2 Methodists, 
and 1 Roman Catholic. There were fourteen Anglican clergymen 
among the corresponding members of the Association. Day boys were 
being told (by whom?) that Dickson was not a gentleman, could not 
play cricket, was not fit to head a school for gentlemen's sons. 

Goldwin Smith wrote to Ross that he strongly suspected a cabal and 
saw little hope for the school. He advised Ross to get a new principal 
from one of the great English public schools, where the men were 



experts in the management of a particular class of boys. Smith had a 
low opinion of the College board, who "represented nothing except an 
unfulfilled promise of pecuniary aid" 26 and were unfit to run a school; 
to keep a new principal, the board would need improving. Smith went 
on to defend Dickson, who he felt had probably been wronged and cer- 
tainly insulted. 

Dickson made a spirited defence, requesting a commission to inves- 
tigate his principalship and sending to everyone a statistical summary 
of his ten years at UCC compared to the eight previous years. He, too, 
referred to the Anglican domination of the new board, wishing it had 
been more representative. But he felt the personal insult deeply 
— thirty-three years of work swept away, his reputation destroyed, his 
character called into question. All he received in reply was a letter stat- 
ing that the rumours that he was intemperate were untrue. He could 
not get over the manner of his dismissal: "Pardon for an offence of 
which I am not guilty is superfluous after the full measure of punish- 
ment has been inflicted. ... I cannot divest myself of a very deep sense of 
wrong." 27 It took three years to settle his financial claims. 28 

Dickson's end at the College was a tragedy. He had had an out- 
standing reputation in Hamilton, had been active in the Toronto 
community (he was the first president of the Rosedale Golf Club), had 
founded the Canadian Educational Monthly, and had paid for and helped 
to produce the only nineteenth-century history of the College. What 
had happened to him? He was overwhelmed by circumstances: he had 
endured the cutting of the endowment, the enormous burden of moving 
to Deer Park, the loss of many experienced colleagues in that move, 
crushing financial worries, Ross's interference, the change of board, 
Martland's alleged disloyalty, and the hostility of the Deer Park neigh- 
bours. Much of Dickson's support came from outside Toronto, and he 
could not stand up to the weight of his opposition. In the final analysis 
his governors had lost faith in him; things would probably have become 
worse, and their decision was undoubtedly best for the College. Their 
methods were nothing to be proud of. 

The ink was scarcely dry on the board's dismissal of Dickson and his 
colleagues when the College community set to work to find a new prin- 



cipal. The trustees were seriously considering, as Dickson's friends had 
feared, an Anglican clergyman named Willetts, but the Premier wisely 
held up the appointment. Only a few days had passed before John T. 
Small, an Old Boy and a prominent member of the British Empire 
League, suggested George Parkin to the chairman of the board. After a 
month the trustees wrote to Parkin offering a salary of $2,500, to be 
increased if Parkin made UCC financially sound. They suggested Parkin 
see Premier Mowat, who was in England at the time. Parkin made his 
conditions clear from the outset: freedom to carry out his policy without 
interference; recognition that a religious tone was important in a 
school; a larger salary as soon as it was feasible. After much correspond- 
ence and many meetings, Parkin accepted the principalship. He 
arrived at UCC on August 30, 1895, just in time to open the school. 

Parkin was forty-nine, the oldest man ever to become principal. The 
youngest of thirteen children of a New Brunswick farmer, he had 
become "the only Canadian of his time prominent enough to be univer- 
sally referred to by surname only." 29 He had been to normal school in 
Saint John and had developed into a powerful teacher with a mission- 
ary zeal. At the University of New Brunswick he had happily experi- 
enced a classical residential education. He had gradually turned from 
his early Baptist influence to the Church of England. At twenty-five, 
when he had become headmaster of the Fredericton Collegiate School, 
he was a prominent local figure, magnetic, enthusiastic, ambitious, and 
at the same time selfless and a convinced anti-materialist. He was cer- 
tain that Anglo-Saxonism carried with it a clear superiority and that 
elite leadership must be based, not on wealth, but on merit and educa- 

In 1873-74 Parkin had spent the most influential year of his life at 
Oxford. There he became the intimate of some of the most powerful 
Englishmen of the following decades. The concept of Christian idealism 
permeated his whole being. The English public schools, especially 
Uppingham, where he became entranced by the great headmaster 
Thring, fascinated him. They trained character, not intellect: the clas- 
sics taught moral lessons; team games taught sportsmanship; weekly 
chapel sermons carried a powerful personal influence. A common ethic 



of service and patriotism was learned. Thring convinced Parkin of the 
power of boarding-schools in forming national character through the 
media of responsibility, independence, the lack of rank, wealth, or luxu- 
ry. Uppingham was to serve as something of a model in Parkin's mind 
when he arrived at UCC, though the two schools were very different. 

Parkin had returned from Oxford to New Brunswick and taught for 
fifteen years, starting his own boarding-school. He had joined the Impe- 
rial Federation League in 1885, and in 1889 he had begun six years of 
wandering thousands of miles as the evangelist of Empire, travelling 
across Canada, Britain, and Australia preaching imperialism as though 
it were a religion and writing three books on the importance of imperial 
unity. His study of Canada had convinced him that it was in the best 
interests of the Canadian people to maintain a close connection with 
the British Empire. He met and captivated scores of vigorous men 
including G. M. Grant, principal of Queen's University, and G. T. 
Denison. 30 He was incredibly busy during this time, living for much of 
it in relative poverty and refusing lucrative offers in order to follow his 
own selfless star. He delivered a series of lectures to English public 
schools, where he was enormously influential. When the College offer 
came to him, he had done more for the British Empire than any other 
man of his time. 

Parkin's motives for accepting the post at Upper Canada were 
mostly economic. He had a large family, and UCC offered a house and a 
steady income, a milieu he knew and understood, and a fine platform 
from which to spread his imperialist principles. He could continue his 
British ties, because the London Times wanted him to send them a 
monthly article on Canada, and he could work on his biography of 
Thring. This, then, was the Canadian chosen to bring UCC back from 
oblivion: George Robert Parkin — teacher, headmaster, author, lectur- 
er, imperialist, idealist, dreamer. 

Meanwhile, Martland was a key figure in all aspects of the College's 
reorganization that summer. There was the Dickson problem itself, the 
question of increasing the attendance, and the general reorganization of 
the school. Above all, who was going to be rehired? Martland, Jackson, 
and Sparling were asked to choose a new staff, and when the smoke had 



cleared only Jackson, Sparling, Leacock, Hull (an 1889 mathematics 
appointment), and Macdonald were in. After some hesitation, Johnson 
and Holmes were added. Included almost as an afterthought was 
Arthur L. Cochrane. Cochrane had been taken on in 1894 as swimming 
instructor and porter and allowed to occupy a small cottage at the rear 
of the College free. He stayed until 192 1, directly influencing as many 
Canadian boys as anyone in the country's history. Two distinguished 
additions were then made: E. R. Peacock of Queen's became first 
English master, and G. F. Macdonnell, head boy of 1889, joined the 
staff to teach English and classics. 

From the very beginning Parkin made his beliefs clear to the boys 
and the College community at large. He was not so much interested in 
prizes or athletic victories or manners as he was in character, which 
depended upon truth. He intended to make the College a place from 
which a boy could go out with the principles of a Christian and a gen- 
tleman; a place of sound learning, where the slow and weak received 
the same attention as the strong and clever. Had he the means, he said, 
he would get the best music teacher, develop manual training, furnish a 
library and a reading room. Above all he would pay the masters on the 
same scale as the best English public schools. Three or four thousand 
dollars a year furnished by Old Boys would make UCC first-rate. In his 
1895 Prize Day Speech 3 ' Parkin made one vital reference that pointed 
to his ultimate goal — that UCC should forgo government support and be 
released from all political controls. 

During his first year Parkin worked without respite. A sixteen-thou- 
sand-dollar deficit was lowered to six thousand dollars. Back salaries 
were paid off. A supplemental endowment fund was begun through an 
appeal to Old Boys, an appeal which was broadened by newspaper 
advertising and supported by friendly editorials. The parish church 
contretemps was settled once and for all in favour of Christ Church. 
Discipline became stricter, and delinquent boys were suspended or 
expelled. The first of a series of Arbour Days took place: a half-holiday 
was declared, and three hundred trees and shrubs (for which the boys 
raised sixty dollars) were planted and the College avenue was lined 
with elms down to the front gate. 32 By the end of his first year, Parkin 



had started the College on the road to recovery. There were still finan- 
cial problems, of course; these could not be solved overnight. The school 
badly needed a hospital. There was the nagging problem of how to run 
a proper boarding-school in one large building, something unknown in 
the English public schools, where separate houses were the distinctive 
feature. There was the other puzzle of how to run a combined boarding 
and day school successfully. 33 There was also the isolation from town, a 
great disadvantage. (A letter to the Globe said Toronto was the only city 
that had two such important institutions as the College and Mount 
Pleasant Cemetery so far away.) Parkin ended his first year physically 
drained but cautiously optimistic about the future. 

During the next two years the College picture gradually brightened. 
Parkin appealed to all interested in higher Christian education to 
donate seven to ten thousand dollars a year for three years to help carry 
out his aim of making UCC a great public school in the English tradi- 
tion. (The first response was from Timothy Eaton, "the great coopera- 
tive store man." 34 ) The number of boarders increased gradually but 
day-boy numbers lagged because of transportation problems. (The Belt 
Line railway north of the College had become defunct, there was no 
tram line closer than Dupont to the south before the end of 1906.) The 
university paid the first instalment of the endowment, nineteen thou- 
sand dollars. The first positive move toward getting an isolation hospital 
was made by the board chairman, J. J. Kingsmill, after Cochrane had 
had to be moved out of his tiny cottage so that it could be turned into 
an infirmary. Ross and the provincial government balked at the cost 
but were finally shamed into making a contribution when Old Boys 
Henry Cawthra and W. H. Beatty made large private subscriptions. A 
year later Doctor Thorburn could report to the principal "that in the 
past year no deaths have occurred." 35 

Parkin's visions were starting to take shape, though they were not 
necessarily totally shared by all his colleagues, one or two of whom 
questioned the validity of "Christian teaching" in a non-church school. 
Lack of support such as this, along with the heavy and continual pres- 
sure which he put on himself, stretched Parkin's courage and physical 
endurance to the breaking point. Nevertheless, enrolment was continu- 



ing to rise, financially the school was at the break-even point, and the 
university sent two more endowment instalments totalling thirty-nine 
thousand dollars. Half a dozen worthy men were added to the staff. 
(Parkin felt he needed "the wisdom of a serpent" 36 to make good 
appointments.) Albert Ham, a renowned organist and choirmaster, 
took over the music; Charles F. Mills of Cambridge joined Jackson's 
classics department, and the formidable J. L. Somerville, also from 
Cambridge, taught science and mathematics. William Lawson Grant, 
son of the Queen's principal, became the first head of history and geog- 
raphy. Later he had a brilliant academic career before returning to the 
College in 19 17 to become principal. Also joining the staff was A. W. 
Playfair, who left in 1902 and ended his career teaching in Japan. Wil- 
liam Kerr, an Old Boy, taught modern languages for three years before 
becoming the dean of arts and sciences at the University of Alberta, and 
then its president. 

On the personal side, Parkin's triumphs carried the name of UCC far 
and wide. They began in December 1897, when Edward Blake made a 
speech at the National Club which was bleakly pessimistic about impe- 
rial unity, an important political concept of the time. During his politi- 
cal career Blake had been premier of Ontario, and federal minister of 
justice. From 1877 to 1887 he was leader of the Liberal Party. In 1892 
he left Canada and was elected to the British House of Commons. He 
believed that Canada should be independent, though existing in har- 
mony with Great Britain. G. T. Denison got up to disagree with Blake, 
and cries of "Parkin!" brought the principal to his feet to deliver an 
impassioned extempore address which destroyed Blake as a political 
force in Canada. 37 In May 1898 Parkin received a CMG in the Queen's 
birthday honours list, the only Canadian to do so. Congratulations 
poured in from all over the world, and the UCC boys got a holiday. A 
township was named after him, and last but not least, he received a pay 
raise to three thousand dollars. He was so content he even found time to 
play a little golf. 

The great success of Parkin's schemes brought with it a serious prob- 
lem: the school was outgrowing its facilities, a new challenge which he 
met head on. In his Prize Day Speech in 1899, Parkin put severe pres- 



sure on the government 38 by speaking of the indifference which had 
greeted his appeals for funds. He threatened to resign unless more pub- 
lic support was forthcoming. The threat had the desired effect: Parkin 
was invited to submit a memorandum of his future plans for the Col- 

Parkin believed that UCC's current prosperity was superficial and 
would not last because it was based on a contradiction: that you could 
have a great public school in one large building. The great strength of 
the English public schools was their fragmentation into several small 
houses, each with a first-class, well-paid man at its head. Not only did 
this ensure a large supply of good masters, it meant that a weak princi- 
pal need not bring disaster. Parkin was emphatic about the importance 
of boarding — the only milieu for the building of character, an impossi- 
bility in a luxurious home. He was equally confident that good masters 
would not stay 39 at UGC because of the boarding arrangements. Parkin 
proposed a new Upper Canada College with a maximum of 350 boys, 
all in residence, with day boys phased out. Several houses would be 
erected for both masters and boys, resulting in a strong school commu- 
nity. As each house was filled, another would be built. Within five years 
the College would be completely established as a great public school. 
The main building would evidently become the classroom block. Two 
further elements in his scheme included a principal's salary of six thou- 
sand dollars, and a new board of governors made up of Old Boys and 
some ex officio members, removed entirely from political control. He 
was certain that the government would accept the whole scheme and 
that strong financial support would follow independence. 

The early months of 1900 were spent laying the groundwork for the 
realization of Parkin's dream. A committee headed by A. R. Creelman 
drew up a draft of suggestions, which Parkin forwarded to the Minister 
of Education. The memorandum contemplated a permanent endow- 
ment of Sioo,ooo, half of which could be collected very quickly by UCC 
supporters if the government agreed to the principles in the document. 

In April 1900 Harcourt introduced a bill to sever the tie between 
the Province of Ontario and Upper Canada College, contingent upon 
$50,000 being raised by October 1 . Parkin raised half the money and 



then went to England for the summer. When he returned, the deadline 
was in sight and he had to spend every hour on the fund. He had 
$35,000, with only a week to go. Advertisements were put into the three 
morning papers asking for help, and finally $50,496 was subscribed by 
185 names. The largest donation was $2,500, and the average about 
$275. Considering the size of the College community it could not be 
called a generous effort. However, Parkin was in great spirits. 

On November 15, 1900, the College, at its own request, was cut off 
from its historic role as the expensive anomaly of the Ontario secondary 
school system and the bete noire of the Ontario government. It now was 
on its own with a new board of governors, 40 a world-famous principal, 
seventeen masters, three hundred students, a nine-year-old building on 
the outskirts of Toronto, and fifty thousand dollars. 



School Life in the Eighties 
and Nineties 

T-'HROUGH ALL THE DIFFICULTIES with the legislature and then the 
move to Deer Park, the most powerful sheet-anchor the school had 
during the eighties and nineties was its faculty. Of these none was 
more prominent than William S. Jackson. Jackson had joined UCC in 
1877 at the age of twenty-three, after being educated at Rugby and the 
University of London. He continued the College's long line of outstand- 
ing classical scholars. As well, he added a great strength on the athletic 
side: he had played football for Rugby and was a fine boxer and crick- 
eter. While at UCC Jackson became first classical master and head of 
residence, stepping into the shoes of Martland, whose spiritual successor 
he was. Many Old Boys supported him for the post of principal in 1895, 
but he lost out to Parkin. Later he became vice-principal. He was re- 
membered vividly by the boys whom he taught. H. H. Langton was 
taught sixth-form Latin prose composition in Jackson's first year at 
UCC. Years later Langton remembered his own 

astonishment and discomfiture (for I considered myself rather good at 
Latin prose) when he mercilessly demolished the first piece of prose 
which I brought him, and then, after scoring out as it seemed to me 
every word as wrongly used and applied, handed it back to me saying, 
"There is no grammatical mistake in it, but it isn't Latin at all, its just 
English with Latin instead of English words." This was a new idea to 
me. 1 

William S. Jackson. What did that "S." stand for? Certainly not 



Stonewall. But with unerring instinct the school adopted for him the 
nickname of Thomas Jonathan Jackson, the celebrated Southern cav- 
alry general whose exploits were still, in 1877, a byword the world over. 
So "Stonewall" (later "Stony") Jackson he became. "I could have done 
far worse," he once said. 

When Stony first arrived at UCC he found that Edward Fiirrer, the 
modern language master, had just succeeded in supplanting soccer by a 
rough-and-tumble hybrid containing elements of Rugby football. The 
two masters went to work together on this mixture, and under Jackson's 
instruction the College team took up the game of rugger. Fortunately 
both the University of Toronto and Trinity College were also experi- 
menting with this new game. With Jackson on the forward line the UCC 
team challenged the university and won; the next year they defeated 

After the College moved from King Street to Deer Park the oppor- 
tunities for outdoor recreation were enormous: thirty acres of magnifi- 
cent grounds, the playing fields, the tennis courts, the creek along the 
Old Belt Line that furnished nature's hazards for the steeplechase. But 
these amenities did not include the Oval, built later at Stony 's instiga- 
tion in response to popular demand for a quarter-mile cinder track. 
Jackson supervised the work. It was a case of dig and level, dig and fill; 
the fill was brought in wheelbarrows from an old orchard west of where 
Wedd's House now stands; the boys supplied most of the labour. Begun 
in 1892, the track was ready by the end of '93. 

Jackson, of course, continued to be a power in the school throughout 
the nineties. One Old Boy remembered how interested Jackson was in 
the Corbett-Fitzsimmons fight. He kept phoning somebody downtown 
and relaying the news round-by-round to the boys, who were eagerly 
awaiting the outcome. 

Jackson remained at UCC for forty years, then retired to England. 
He kept up correspondence with Old Boys for a long time and gave a 
speech to the Old Boys' Dinner in England in 1929 at the age of sev- 
enty-five, recalling the "good old days": 

Does anyone else among us remember those wonderful days under 



Mr. Cockburn? Among other things he will have noticed how the cli- 
mate of Toronto is changing. Did the rain ever fall in dismal torrents 
then? Did the grey cloud floes ever dim the autumn sky? The tints of 
our skies were always rosy; our sun was always shining gaily; and the 
winter ice in the Adelaide Street rink was always hard. We had no 
hockey to play then, but there were always a lot of remarkably nice 
girls to tow round and round. And that is manly exercise if you like. . . . 
The present generation are really doing all that can be expected of 
them to keep up the grand old traditions of King Street, when you 
consider that not one of them ever heard of a bath ticket. It was one of 
the first things a new boy was taught, to ask Stony for his bath ticket. 
And Stony always gently explained to him that he had been misled; 
he should apply to Dr. Scott 

The other steady old-timer who helped keep the school on the rails 
was George Belton "Guts" Sparling, who joined UCC in 1872 to teach 
mathematics and took over the department from Brown in 1887. Con- 
sidered briefly for the principalship in 1895, he became acting- principal 
during the search for Parkin's successor and died while still at the Col- 
lege in 1904. While on the old site, Sparling lived on the grounds and 
sometimes had boys boarding with him. After the trek to Deer Park he 
moved out of residence and ceased to be the integral part of College life 
he had been, a crucial change which affected the boys' lives as well. 
There was nothing showy about Sparling; he did not seek popularity. 
He was thorough and honest and hard-working. Together with Mart- 
land he prepared the school for the coming of Parkin. 

Stephen Leacock attended UCC as a boarder from 1882 to 1887. He 
remembered many years later the spacious gardens, the big chestnut 
trees, and the comfortable masters' houses. The school was at the height 
of its popularity, Leacock said, with about a hundred boarders, who 
thought of themselves as the centre of the school, and over a hundred 
day boys; "it was a fine, decent place, with no great moral parade 
about it, nor moral hypocrisy, but a fundamental background of decent 
tradition." 2 The avowed aim of creating Christian gentlemen was 
bound to fail, he thought, but there was little bullying, flogging, or fag- 
ging; some formal, impersonal church and religion; little lying and lit- 



tie stealing. (There was little to steal.) Pocket money was twenty-five 
cents weekly for juniors, fifty cents for seniors. 

Leacock did not believe that schools like ucc created the sort of 
class division that worried (and continues to worry) England so much. 
He thought that many of the boys who attended ucc did so because 
there was nothing else to do with them, not because their parents were 
specially rich or gentlemanly. 3 Leacock on balance believed that a good 
boarding-school (as opposed to a rotten or snobbish one) offered the 
kind of disciplined life unattainable elsewhere. Breaking away from 
home and standing on your own feet, realizing how much home actu- 
ally meant, learning a new set of values from a friend in need, or from a 
kindly master: these were immeasurably valuable. As time went by a 
boy settled in, played a part in the school, and began to take a pride in 
it. And the friendships lasted forever. 

After a start made miserable by homesickness, scarlatina, and igno- 
rance of algebra, Leacock began to feel a real pride in walking on King 
Street in his dark blue-and-white cap, hearing people call him an 
Upper Canada College boy. He loved Saturday afternoon cricket 
matches with their heroes and mountains of ice cream and cake, and 
the ecstasy of term-end with the excitement and packing of trunks and 
waiting at the station at the foot of Berkeley Street for the train. 

Leacock described the nightly study: 

[We had] to sit for two mortal hours with nothing but school books in 
front of us. Conceive it. We were not allowed even to converse from 
desk to desk. My recollection is quite clear on the point, not to con- 
verse, and, though my readers may doubt it, not even to smoke. I hope 
that no one will doubt the accuracy of my recollections when I say 
that we were not allowed either to smoke or to chew tobacco, not 
allowed to play cards, and, beyond a miserable glass of water handed 
to us on a tray at nine, forbidden to drink. In other words the only 
rational way of spending the evening — to sit and talk, take a drink 
now and then, or join in a game of bridge — was utterly forbidden to 
us. . . . But these are only examples among many. Looking back on it 
all, it seems an incredible life. We were shut in at night and let out in 
the morning. Confined to a five acre field all day; not allowed even to 

I 3 8 


order our own breakfast, and compelled to state on Friday evening 
whether or not we were going out to tea on Sunday! Our answer 
should have been, "Most likely I'll dine at the club, but if not Shorty 
can get me a chop and a pint of claret here!" 

Leacock, the fairest of men, admitted that there were compensations 
for these bleaker sides of life. 

I remember that in night study we got the chance once or twice in the 
evening to put a bent pin on the master's chair, ready for him to sit on 
when he resumed his seat after a good stroll round the room. That was 
good! That was distinctly good. I could enjoy it now. It was as good as 
trout fishing. I remember too that in the school room we used to chew 
up paper into solid, wet projectiles and fire them to stick on the yoke 
of the master's gown when he turned his face to the blackboard. That 
was excellent. 

And I begin to remember too something in the culinary line — the 
frying of sausages in a "spider," over the bedroom fire long after lights 
out, to be eaten with stolen bread, stolen sugar and various other 
things lifted from the table — the feast at the imminent risk of detec- 
tion. That was the real stuff: there is no doubt that the criminal life 
has wonderful attractions. 

Yet take it all in all, these little compensations mitigated, but did 
not remove the rigours of our existence. They represented only the 
indomitable power of the human spirit that will not accept its chains. 
And then when we look back on it all and see the chains lying broken 
on the floor, it is but human also that we drop a tear upon them. 

Leacock had mixed feelings about the formal education he received 
at ucc, but on the whole he found it good. It was basically classical 
with a strong flavour of mathematics and, said Leacock, "was a great 
training for leadership," 4 especially in a parliamentary nation where 
oratory, and eventually the written word, counted a great deal. It was 
good because it was hard and lent itself to competition, "to examina- 
tions, to marks, to prizes, to going up and down in class . . . [it] made the 
class do the work and not the teacher." 5 Its weakness for Leacock lay in 



its conceit, in its belief that geography and modern languages and sci- 
ence and English literature and drama were all inferior to Latin and 
Greek. Though Leacock does not specify, it is obvious that ucc was 
slow to change; its very thoroughness worked against its ability to 

The curriculum was discussed with remarkable ease in the columns 
of The College Times, a tribute to the progressive views of both Buchan 
and Dickson. In 1882 the editor, T. C. S. Macklem, took the adminis- 
tration to task for the absence of Canadian history, not only from the 
syllabus but from the reading room. Boys knew all about Cyrus and 
Hannibal, nothing about Canada except that its history existed. All the 
high schools were just as bad, said Macklem, and called for the Minis- 
ter of Education to put things right. (The Varsity agreed with Macklem, 
adding the university to its indictment.) Macklem also decried the 
dropping of chemistry from the curriculum. Leacock was editor in 1887 
and strongly supported the study of Latin verse, "the very soul of the 
classics," as the best mental training available. English was regarded as 
a "sleeper" on examinations because of its relative ease — "everyone 
thinks he knows all about English," which was not as easy as it looked. 
Ben Hur was a book highly recommended by Leacock despite the "Am- 
ericanisms which jar upon the ears of purists." G. R. Geary in 1888 
complained bitterly that modern languages were unfairly treated both 
on the timetable and in the marking scheme. The same year a corre- 
spondent signing himself "Z" sent in a diatribe about French and bilin- 
gualism which could have been written decades later. "Is there a boy in 
this College . . . who is able to express himself or converse in French? . . . 
Surely it is a disgrace ... to be unable to speak French, when one-half of 
[Canadians] are French." 

In 1929 Leacock recalled the weekly bath: 

Whether we liked it or not, whether we needed it or not, we had to 
take a bath. We had no choice even as to time. Those who recall the 
old school will remember that in the middle of the afternoon Shorty, 
the head waiter — or was he only the shortest waiter? — came out on 
the steps and clanged a bell that reached every corner of the play- 



ground. At this, the cry of "Bath!" was taken up from voice to voice, 
and those whose day and turn it was filed meekly in to be washed. 

Imagine it now. If someone came into the University Club at 
Montreal in the middle of the afternoon and said to me "go and take a 
bath." How would I like it. Or my contemporaries — would they like it 
any better? In my own form at the Old School were, among others 
since risen to eminence, the Hon. Hal. McGiverin and Major General 
Thacker. Do they have to take a bath now? No, indeed. 

And yet oddly enough I imagine that if someone appeared — let us 
say if Shorty could, appear with his bell in the gallery of the House of 
Commons, or at a meeting of Canadian Militia Council, or at Synod 
of the Church of England and ring the bell and call "Bath!", quite a 
number of old uc:c boys would rise and respond to the call. 

Another insight into the weekly bath night has been supplied by 
T. H. Wilson: 

Two at a time we climbed into the wooden laundry tubs, after settling 
how much cold (tap) water was to go into the hot already ladled out of 
a big cauldron in the corner, fired with cordwood from a pile nearby. 
Followed the icy douche from a bucket, as one stood in mid-floor, yells 
and racket as the dozen or more dressed and returned to study. Then 
there was the knotted towel initiation for new boys!!! This all gave 
way to the luxury of individual tubs set in cubicles. 

The tubs Wilson knew were in the basement. The old boys bathed 
first, so there was seldom even lukewarm water for the new boys. The 
other amenities were on the same sort of level. The buildings were 
heated solely by small open stoves in each room, there being no steam 
heating, and the fires went out every night. Only on extremely cold 
mornings were the fires kindled, so that getting up was no pleasant busi- 
ness. Lighting was by gas and there was only one weak, flickering jet in 
each of the bedrooms; studying was very hard on the eyes. 

The Literary and Debating Society continued throughout the eight- 
ies. Selections from Shakespeare, Dickens, and Longfellow were read. 
Debates included: Resolved that it is preferable for a College to be 



located in the country rather than in the city" (won); "Resolved that 
the life of a boarder is preferable to that of a day boy" (won); "Are 
early marriages conducive to the welfare of society?" (yes). An innova- 
tion in 1882 was a piano solo, the first one ever played before the society 
and a harbinger of things to come. As the decade ended, the Literary 
and Debating Society gradually declined. The minutes of January 1889 
recorded that "the chief drawback to the complete success of the . . . 
society is the little interest taken in it by the boys. . . ." 

Attempts were made to interest boys in a chess club and a lawn-ten- 
nis club, but they had no great success. The usual sports carried on, 
though baseball made so many inroads into cricket that it (along with 
lacrosse) was stopped when the College moved north. On Sports Day a 
track was roped off around the field fronting on King Street. It was 
pretty rough, with sharp corners, and plenty of spills featured the day, 
especially in the bicycle races. 

The political furor surrounding the College made small impact on 
the student body of the eighties. A College Times article made a passing 
reference to one of the early battles by saying that those "who are mak- 
ing the most violent attacks upon the College are the very ones who 
know least about it." 

Loyalty to the school, right or wrong, was typical of a schoolboy. 
Thirteen-year-old Morton Jones wrote a school song in 1885 which 
expressed the College's collective view in that tense decade. It began 
with "Rally, sons of ucc," expressed faith to "our College," vowed 
"death to every foe and traitor," identified blue with lofty purposes and 
white with "a fair and spotless name," and ended by urging her sons to 
"fight her battles undismayed." 

Some details of life at UCC — school spirit, dancing, outdoor sport, 
and the evil effects of hard work — were brought out in letters by J. H. 
Flintoft 6 of Sarnia, who wrote home at age seventeen: 

Nov. 1 st/88 [to mother] 

. . . the College boys formed two and two and marched down to College 

singing songs crying the UCC yell and generally having a good time 



25th Jan. /8g [to mother] 

I can dance the military schottische and heel and toe polka now 

Jan. 30UV89 

I . . . am learning the Ripple and Waltz . . . there is some doubt but not 
much of their having the At Home they have to be promised one hun- 
dred and fifty dollars before they can have it. . . . There is good tobag- 
ganing on the school slide . . . the top ... is just alongside the gym. . . . 
When the tobagganing is very good you can go right over to the fence. 

Feb. gth/8g 

There is good skating on the ice . . . and the boys play a great deal of 
shinny ... I am going to get a shinny this week. ... A boy . . . died last 
week . . . his death was caused by brain fever brought on by studying 
too hard. . . . There is some row again about the At Home . . . they are 
not quite sure that they will have [it]. 

As preparations were made to move to Deer Park, student interest 
in the new site picked up. In September 1889 G. H. Ronald Harris of 
London, Ontario, aged sixteen, entered ucc for one year to prepare for 
entry to RMC. Harris wrote several times a month to members of his 
family, and excerpts from his letters give insight into many aspects of 
College life that year: 7 

September 13, 1889 

I like it very much here and am getting on very well. I was put in the 
fourth form, a form one higher than I expected. The work in it is very 
hard and I will have to take German French and Latin. Will you send 
me at once Fasquelle French grammar and Kirland Scotts Arithmetic 
we have them both at home. In the room with me are two very nice 
boys one from Port Arthur and the other from St. Johns. Tomorrow I 
am going to the fair and I think I will have a good time. I know both 
the Kirkpatrick boys but I think I like Willie the best, Guy is in the 
same form with me Willie is below me. I am going to play Cricket 
tomorrow. The food is very good so far for tea we had preserved pears 
and jam tarts with bread and butter for breakfast, porridge and cold 
meat for dinner, Fish mutton or beef and Blanc Mange. You did not 



give me any ink, and the boy whose ink I am writing with has a bottle 

about five inches deep The reading room is very nice but there are 

no chairs. . . . We have no regular lessons, tomorrow but have to study 
for two hours. ... I will have to get a padlock for my locker. Mother 
have you a spare table cloth (not Linen) which you could send me 

about 4 feet square. I would bring it back 

P.S. With the two other books please send my Latin Grammar (Prin- 
cipia Latina) by Smith. 

September 18 

Aunt Sophie . . . came to the College and gave me my watch and Ted's 
letter and the Die. I got the books and the table cloth. The table cloth 
improves the room very much, did you have to buy It? I got my little 
finger hurt to-day playing cricket. It has swollen up a good bit and is 
very sore. The work of the fourth is very hard. I have to study three 
hours and a half a day besides my regular lessons. Joyce Macklem is in 
the room with me. I will have to run my towel gauntlet tomorrow 
night. The food on the whole is not bad but the butter is perfumed and 
the bread rather black. . . . We go to the Cathederal but now the 

church is being fixed up and we go to the Sunday school I went to 

the fair on Saturday and Monday. It was very good there was a very 
good exhibition of Natural History. This is the 19th and I have just 
run my gauntlet the knots in the wet towels felt like iron. The knots 
when they are once tied are never undone they are made this way. 
The towels are soaked for two or three days and then soaped the knot 
is then tied and pulled tight between the bars of the chairs the boys 
then pull them and wet them for another day the towel is then wraped 
with string and is then fit for use 

October 6 

We had snow this morning here and as we have no fires in our rooms 
it is very cold. . . . Just before ten I saw the Queens Own march past 
from the top of the fence. We have leave on Saturday from ten min- 
utes past one till half past seven and on Sunday from a quarter to two 
till six, and as I am a Senior boy I have leave from three fifteen to six 
on Thursdays. The room we are in is opposite Nu Young's and the 
waiter brings us what is left over. For breakfast we always have a glass 
of milk and a dish of porridge and sometimes sausages; beef; ham and 



egg's; kidneys for Dinner we have two helps of meat "generally Beef; 
Mutton or Pork" and one help of pudding. Plum; Blanch mange, 
Apple-pie Queen's pudding and for tea we have jam and some kind of 
cakes or buns. I generally study at night from half past seven to ten 
and in the morning from half past six to eight the work is very hard 
but I think I will be able to keep up now one of the boys has been put 
back into the third. . . . Father would not know the room now the walls 
are just covered with pictures and we have an arrangement for putting 
out the gas suddenly. We had a pillow gauntlet yesterday morning all 
the new boys had to run I was only knocked down once. We "the boys 
in the room with me" take the Mail we get it between six and seven 
every morning we each stuck in a quarter and get it for three months. 
My letter was interrupted suddenly by old Gentle (W. Martland) 
coming in and condemning three of our pictures he tore two of them 
up, so our room is not as beautiful as it was when I began to write. I 
bought a good Padlock from a boy this afternoon to put on my Locker. 
... I got an invitation for tea from one of the boys but I was not able to 
get leave, that night. We are not allowed South of Wellington St and 
are therefore not allowed on the Lake. Joyce Macklem is an American 
and he put four Yankee flags up on his wall we tore them down and 
burnt them to day we have two large pictures of the Queen hung 
beside his bed 

October 18 

I am going in for Gymnastics a good bit. . . . We played a football 
matched to day with Hamilton and won. We have a whole Holiday on 
Monday and therefore have an easy time to night. . . . To-day was 
Prize day at the school and we had a half in consequence. I watched it 
till half past five I then went down town. 1 am beginning to know 
Toronto pretty well. I was down by the Lake once but we are not 
allowed. . . . 

October 18 

. . . The cake was beautiful and the Patriges were lovely thank you 
every so much for them I have been order by the room to send you a 
vote of thanks the chestnuts were also very nice. We had a grand prize 
day to day I will send you the account in the mail if I can get it. The 
Lieut-Governor gave them away. They were I think about three hun- 



dred books all very nice one we stamped and yelled till they had to 
give us two holidays one of them being on Monday next we get the 
whole day breakfast being at eight fifteen and we do not have to be in 
till eleven at night so we will have a good time. I do not know yet what 
I will do. The other day is added to the Thanksgiving holiday so we 
will have from three oclock on Wednesday afternoon till nine Satur- 
day so I will come home if you will let me. All the other boys are going 
home who live anywhere near Toronto. Aunt Sophie complimented 
on the shine on my boots so I suppose I must have looked nice. You 
will I hope excuse the mistake in the letter as one of the boys is reading 

October 19 

The other day we had a fire in our room (we are not allowed one yet) 
and for some unaccountable reason the stove stovepipe and everything 
else came down very suddenly. Old Gentle happened to be in Mr. 
Young's room and he came in and told Mr. Young to cane and 
confine us. He was just wild. Mr. Young told us to come in in the 
morning (this happened about eleven) we came in and told him all 
about it he said it was an accident and told us he would let us off if we 
would promise to have no more trouble with the fire we promised and 
that is the end of it. Last night he gave three boys in the room next to 
us forty-eight cracks with a cane for raising a row. 

1 9 October 

The new school is going to be awfully nice and the grounds are large. 
You have a lovely view from the ridges about half a mile this side of 
the college. Last Sunday I was up there and you could see right across 
the Lake it was just lovely. The college team beat the Hamilton yes- 
terday 1 to none it was a very good game one of the college boys had a 
fight with a Hamilton man for swearing at him. He licked him too. 
We have an easy time this week having three holidays in succesion the 
Lieut.Governor giving one Mr. John Robinson another and Mr 
Mason a third the last one is added to the Thanksgiving Holiday and 
we have three then most of the ones who live around here go home 

some of them as far as Detroit. Mr. F ham has ordered us out so I 

will have to say Goodbye. 



i November 

We have had a pretty lively day all though it rained very hard. This 
afternoon one of the Master (Fotherringham 6 feet 4 inches) had a 
row with a boy. The boy was late for breakfast and the master would 
not hear his excuse. The boy was telling him it and the master told 
him not to talk back the boy said he wasn't and the master lost his 
temper and hit him. The boy who is about eighteen and very strong 
struck him twice in the chest and knocked him up against the wall the 
boys then seperated them and they went into Dickie — and as he did 
nothing to the boy it looks as if the Master was wrong. Again about 
half past four the boys found that three of the boarders in Jackson had 
skipped home, two of them being the Struther from London. The mas- 
ter did not know till seven and so I suppose the boys are home. Don't 
say anything about it yet as we don't know what the end will be 

3rd November 

The college slide is being put up it is only about twenty feet high but 
the boys seem to get lots of fun out of it. Have they had much trouble 
with the poachers at Long point this year. My Composition on "The 
Irish Question" was read by "Steve" to-day he said it was very well 
put together but he called me up to the desk and it took him half an 
hour to go over it. We have boiled potatoes now every night, I have 
got over my dislike to them all together. Did mother tell you about Mr 
Martland sending in the turkey to me. It surprised every one, as he 
has not done it for a long while. There is only one vacancie in the New 
Wing so I don't think I will be able to get in next term as I am not the 
Senior boys 

1 o November 

I gave the ducks to Mr Martland and Mr Young. Mr Martland ask 
me where they came from and told me to thank Father very much for 
them, he seemed very particular about having them hung properly 
and ask me when they were hung. Mr Young thanked me very much 
for them also. Mr. Dickson let Macklem go home on Wednesday 
night. . . . We are going to eat the Duck to-night as soon as the other 
boys come in. But we will not be able to make any cocoa to-night as 
we have no sugar or milk. I went up to Queens Park with Gibbs this 



afternoon and went all over the Parliament buildings. They are going 
to be very fine when they are finished 

15th December 

I will want some more money to take me home. The fare is $4.70 and I 
will have to get my trunk to the station. . . . Last night there was a big 
At Home at the college. The supper room was decorated with the rifles 
and bayonets of the college they looked very well and the Cricket bats 
etc, were also put up. The boys paid for the Electric light, programmes 
etc and the school gave the supper. ... I saw my report on Friday and 
it is not as good as the last one. At first I was able to keep up better 
than now. As before we had both gone over the work, and now the 
work is new to me and not to the other boys, but I won't be put back a 
form. The work in the fourth form here is the same as the fourth form 
in the high school at London and I was only in the first there and I am 
in the fourth ere, so there is a big difference, but my conduct report 
will be good 

30th December 1889 

. . . Last night the Senior and Junior football teams had their supper. 
Mr Martland told me he was going to send me some Turkey. After 
study last night the waiter appeared earring a big tray with a huge 
turkey, a lot of rolls and a jug of coffee (eighteen cupsfull) some bread 
and butter and a nice dish of some kind of Blanch Mange and Mr 
Martland told me I could ask any one I liked to have supper with us. I 
asked Guy Kirkpatrick and Martin from Cayuga we had a rattling 
good time after we had finished the turkey etc we made our guests get 
up on the table and make a speech and sing a song each one of us did 
this and then we had a debate on the Irish Question. We clapped 
hissed and threw sponges at the speakers just as it suited us, we stoped 
at eleven and went to bed. Was it not very nice of him to give it to me. 
I went to Dr. Wood again this afternoon but I an now through. He 
fixed one of my teeth by putting a cap on it so I expect he will charge 
for it. Mother I would like to have some fine netting needles and 
meshes if you could send them to me, as I want to net something in silk 

before Christmas. Will you please send them if you can I will have 

to do some extra work to-night as I am writing a composition. The 
master who it is for is an American and very much in favour of the 



Nationel league. The subject I choose was "The other side of the Irish 
Question" so I don't quite know what the result will be, as I have 
blown the Yankees up in every way I could. Macklem wrote one on 
the same subject but he took the opposite side to me and he got good 
marks I wonder if I will. I like the school very much now better than I 
did at first. Mr. Young came in to the room a few minutes ago and 
told me that he had written to father thanking him for the ducks, the 
got the letter back yesterday from the Dead- Letter office. He also gave 
me some cake. This afternoon I (Sunday) went out to the new 
school — it is going to be very nice they have nearly all the roof on, but 

there is a good deal of work to be done yet My report will be going 

home in a few days. I don't think it will be quite as good as my last 
though I have worked harder. The boys have been over the work last 
year and I was not. At first I could keep up better as it was then only a 
matter of work, now it is different but I will not be foot. . . . We are 
going to have an At Home here the Saturday after next. Each boy 
pays a dollar and invites three friends, there is going to be dancing 
and a supper. 

13 January 1890 

There are two boys in the fourth from one in A and the other B "I am 
in B" working up for the Military school examination next June. I 
think I am as well up in my work as the boy who is trying from my 
form. I thought you might like me to try for it; if you would, would 
you please write to Mr Martland and ask him if he thought there was 
any chance of my getting through and if there was to let me take up 
the subjects I would want and drop those that I do not. I would work 
very hard indeed. If you want me to go will you write directly as the 
class is going to be formed this week. Tell Mr Martland that you want 
me to try. Will you write and tell me if this is my last chance. Some 
boys say that you can try when you are seventeen. . . . We have had 
some snow but a great deal went away to-day. Mr Labatt's son is here 
and he gets on very well with the boys. He was in Jackson's first but 
was moved over. He seems to like it very well. We have one boy in our 
gauntlet and I am going to fix my towel to-night. 

19th January 

Mr Martland is going to let me try the exam next June. I had to take 



a paper round to the master asking them if I could try. Mr Hull the 
math master gave me a very good report indeed and so did Steve, the 
English master, but I did not get as good a one from Mr Young as I 
expected and I have worked harder for him than any other master 
except "Gentle". I hardly expect to pass but I will work very hard, 
Gibbs may try to. This afternoon I went out to the new school with 
him we had a very nice walk but it was very muddy. They have done 
a good deal to the school since I was out there but there is a good deal 
to do yet. The roof is on and they are flooring it now. Yesterday we 
went to the Academy of Music the play was "Our Flat" and it was 
very good indeed quite worth going to see, no bloody and Thunder. . . . 
We have had a lot of fun the room late Gentle has started calling me 
Commander in Chief. . . . Yesterday I ran the pillow gauntlet and also 
had the pleasure of returning the compliment to some new boys. 

26th January 

. . . Will you ask Mother to write to Mr Dickson and ask him to let me 
take Drawing and also how much is it per term. I don't quite expect to 
get through but I may. . . . We are still allowed out two extra days in 
the week for the benifit of our health. I have been lucky so far and 
have not had the Grip. Nearly all the boys have though. I have my 
Latin now with Gentle in a class of five instead of twenty eight and 
will have Geography with Dickie. I will now say good by 

2 February 

I have been here four weeks all but four days. The time seems to have 
gone very quickly. I have to study very hard now as I have four extra 
subjects now, one of them (Virgils Bucolics) took me six hours to do 
yesterday. I like the extra subject very much as we take them with 
Gentle and he is very nice. In the class there are five boys two fifth 
form boys and three of us. They are going to drop German and take 
extra Latin lessons and try History. . . . Last week there was a boy 
expelled for stealing. Mr. Dickson got father's letter and spoke to me 
about it. I think if the weather keeps on as it is I will send for my 
cricket things. We played baseball on the thirty first of January 

February 1890 

When Mr. Martland announced that the Varsity was burning it was 

too much for the four of us we concluded that it would be for our 



benefit to see it. We got the staple off" with the help of a hammer, and 
the iron grating with which we are caged in majesticly rolled open, we 
then got dressed up (The snow was melting and it had just stoped 
raining). I got Gibbs blue Flannel shirt and an old cap, Gibbs had a 
black cap and a coat which looked about two hundred years old, it 
had I think been used as a waste rag on his yacht and a blue shirt, 
Macklem blacked his boots. The light goes out a half past ten and we 
were all ready for it. We had a trunk strap tied to the bed to climb up 
with we waited till ten minutes to Eleven and then quietly drooped 
into the snow, and shut the window and grating. We then made for 
King Street and went up to the Varsity, it was burning well and 
looked beautiful the flames coming out of the windows and the slats 
falling. We went all over it and the Students in Residence had all 
there tables and chairs, pictures, bottles, and everything lying all over, 
we then started to go back by way of Young Street and saw the Hook 
& Ladder go to another fire but we did not go to it we got in all right 
at half past twelve, and rather surprised some of the boys were talking 
about there going up at six in the morning, we are going to have our 
Photos taken as we went out. It was a lot of fun and we were the only 
boys in UCC who saw the Varsity burn 

9th February 

. . . Tomorrow (Sunday) I am going to Judge Osier's for tea and din- 
ner. They have a nice place on College Avenue. The boy is trying for 
the rmc and is in the same form as me. I went there on Thursday and 
for the first time since I left home I had all the appels I wanted. 
Another day boy Thacker (His father is Major General Thacker and 
knows the Gritchleys) gives me an allowance of two apples a day so I 
am getting on pretty well. We had a little snow to-day but I suppose it 
will go directly. I am working pretty hard for the Exam now. And will 
study till half past ten to-night. Mr Martland gave me three books to 
read and take notes upon. It was nice of him to lend me his instead of 
me having to buy them. I now get books from the Libray as Gibbs got 
his Uncle to sign my application card. It was a very large libray and 
we do not get Blood & Thunder books. I had an awful headache to- 
day and I thought I was getting the Grip but a boy gave me something 
and it has taken it away. ... I realy have not time to write more than 
once a week now as we have eight extra lessons a week besides our 



others. The masters are trying as hard as they can to get us in and if 
we fail it will not be their fault 

1 7th February 

I went out to the New College with Gibbs this afternoon. They are 
getting it finished very quickly and have all but a few of the windows 
in and some of the flooring done. The rooms will be very much nicer 
than they are here. When we got back you can imagion our appetite. 
Mr Brock is the master at our table and he has a whole pot of Jam and 
meat and three times as much Cake as we have. As we wanted to get 
the meat we had to wait till he had left the table and we thought we 
could get his cake too, but when he left he put the whole nine peices in 

his pocket and we had to content ourselves with his meat and milk 

It is awfully dull now. There is nothing to do and nowhere to go no 
skating or anything, nothing to do but walk around and there is not 
much excitement in that. I do wish the summer term would come and 
we could play cricket. . . . We had a little sleighing here but it is all 
gone now, did you have any. Everybody seems to think that it would 
have been better if this place had burnt it would have cost less and we 
would have had six months holidays and a big time at the hotel 

22 nd February 

I and five other boys were caught snowballing in the Quad and we 
were each fined ten cents. I am going out again to-morrow for dinner 
& tea to the Osier. I liked it very much the last time, I think I am 
learning a great deal here and I am getting better in French. I was 
very lucky to get in this form 

gth March 

We made taffy last week and it was very good we got the butter sugar 
and vinegar from the table. Will you please ask Mary how she keeps 
her pans clean. We all wash ours in turn but when ever anyone try he 
can get an awful lot of dirty out of it. I don't see how it gets there. We 
have been washing it since Xmas and have only used it four or five 
times. We used it once to get some coal in but that should not make it 

so dirty We are going to have a new master in the boarding house 

and expect to have some fun with him. 



28th March 

Thank you very much for all your letters and papers. I would have 
written sooner if the Dr. would have let me. This is the first day I have 
been up. I don't think I was very bad and I managed it well I think 
having it now instead of at home and it would have been such a nuis- 
ance there. I expect your parcel to-morrow. Mr. Martland has been 
awafully kind to me and offered to write the first day, there are two 
other boys sick with them, one from Victoria B.C., I have learned all 
about canned Salmon from him his father has two cannierys; I am not 
with Mrs Sewell the regular nurse but with Mrs Chappel the Garden- 
er's wife she is very nice indeed. The old Dr says I will not be able to 
go home before Thursday of next week but there is no need of your 
coming down for me at all I will be all right before then I think. I am 
very well taken care of here and do not want to go to the Hospital. My 
eyes were the only thing that troubled me at all there were rather 
weak but I bathed them well and they are getting better now, I am 
going to have a bath on Sunday and will fell much better after it. I 
think I will be home before Thursday. We get stewed oysters at night 
and chicken broth. To-night we are going to have a chop which will 
be a change. In the morning we have bread and milk and a boiled egg 
and a glass of milk. We had till yesterday as much Lemonade as we 
wanted. We had in twelve hours fourteen Lemons. I am not sure if I 
will be able to get an envelope to send this letter to-night as all my 
things are over at the School. I have not even a White shirt and am 
wearing my night gown instead. I am very glad I was not sick in the 
holidays instead of now, as it is I only have one day. We have a very 
nice room here much better than the sick room at the Main and have 
a nice open fire burning. 

9th May 

Thank you very much for making my belt [Harris had asked his sister 
to make a belt in UCC colours] and would you mind sending my 
Elstree one down to me I had to borrow one on Friday. We had our 
games to-day, a boarder got the Championship he got seven cups 
worth about 70 dollars they were beautiful one was a silver cup with 
Gold work in it, it cost alone 25 dollars. I think that we are going to 
get off on the 23rd at 12 o'clock and will not have to be back till the 
twenty seventh at 1 2 o'clock. Do you think it would be worth while me 



going home. Our Military exam begins on the tenth of June and lasts 
till the 16th but if I get on the team I will have to wait till the twenty 
eight of June here as that is the Port Hope match. Could I have a little 
money now as I have spent all I took from home. I had six dollars, the 
blazer cost 2.50 the Games S1.00 The Cricket $1.00, a cap .25 and 
bringing my Bag up 25 cents. And all the cricket boys go into the taffy 
when they are coming down from the grounds which are a mile and a 
half away, and get some pop or Ginger beer and a biscuit — 

June 1 6th 

I hope you have had a nice birthday and enjoyed it very much. I 
could not write to you as we played an all day match with the Hamil- 
ton Colts we were beaten by thireteen runs I made six in each innings 
and got one catch, I got off early morning study, and Dick Main and I 

fixed and marked out the crease On Saturday Gentle gave the two 

teams a beautiful dinner. We had roast beef and Lamb, and Rhubarbs 
& Custurds and finished with bananas, and lots of Ginger beer and 
Lemonade, the Ginger beer was very much up and every cork would 
go up to the ceiling and the contents over everybody Archie Young 
included and then after the match was over Gentle gave us a treat of 
ice cream and cake at Coleman. We went upstairs and had a fine time 
singing and do everything. At the table where I was there were five of 
us and when we left there were 1 2 empty plates of ice cream 5 of 
strawberries and cream 3 dishes of cake. I then went down to Young 
street and am getting my belt fixed. Thank you very much for it I 
think I will come home on the 30th June. We may go down to Port 
Hope by boat and stay there all night. The exams were pretty hard, I 
will not know for a month whether I have got in or not — 

Despite Harris's opinion in February that the new school was being 
finished quickly, it did not open for another eighteen months. The psy- 
chological impact of the move to Deer Park is impossible to measure 
now, but on some members of the College group it must have been very 
great. Hills, fields, and dales surrounded the school on every side; there 
was a creek crossing Avenue Road just south of the Belt Line. In the 
autumn it was not unusual to see threshing operations in the fields 
across Forest Hill Road; there were dairy farms along St. Clair Avenue 



to the west. Avenue Road ended at the College gate, and was only sand 
with one plank sidewalk. In the winter and spring the boys had to 
trudge through slush and mud to get to school, with the Avenue Road 
hill being very bad. There the earth fell from an embankment onto the 
walk so that the mud was at least a foot deep. As if to signify its arrival 
on a new planet, at Deer Park the school had its first experience of 
Standard Time, the novelty of which the boys found quite exciting. 

If the College were to survive in this geographical isolation it had to 
find the resources within itself. One resource lay in games, which 
became part of the school ethos; victory then became part of the games 
ethos. Another resource proved to be the very superior group of men 
who joined the staff during the nineties, among whom were A. A. 
"Prant" Macdonald, George W. Johnson, A. L. Cochrane, E. R. Pea- 
cock, C. F. Mills, J. L. Somerville, and W. L. Grant. Under Macdonald 
(and Jackson) football, hockey, and running — especially cross-country 
and steeplechase — became a very much larger and more important 
part of the boys' lives than they had ever been. Johnson was a tall, 
broad-shouldered, vigorous man, an excellent talker, full of stories of his 
early days as a newspaperman. The Commercial Form, full of boys with 
no desire to study, was a tough nut to crack, but Johnson combined iron 
discipline with a real knowledge of boys and had no great trouble. 
Every movement in his classroom was regulated by a hand-bell. A. L. 
Cochrane, besides starting the first Royal Life Saving Society in the 
country, began water polo at the College. He taught A. E. Williamson, 
the first exponent of the crawl in Canada, and trained Frank Wood and 
Arthur Allan, later Canadian champions in swimming and diving. 

E. R. Peacock was remembered by one Old Boy, W. H. Ingram, as 
the master for whom he and his friends had the most real affection. Pea- 
cock taught English literature, and Ingram did not think he ever had a 

who tried to give more of his best than he. Entirely aside from the fact 
that he seemed to be more of our own age, he possessed an uncanny 
instinct of what was going on behind his back. It is largely owing to 
this inherent gift that a number of us can quote even now innumera- 



ble sonnets from Shakespeare, or hundreds of lines from Goldsmith, 
Byron and Scott. 

Peacock's private papers revealed that he never thought of himself 
as a good teacher; the exacting senior housemaster's post he found 
suited him well and he considered himself a good housemaster. 

J. L. Somerville was called "the Duke" because of his waxed mous- 
taches. He had a curious way, in later life, of walking down the hall 
towards his classroom reciting one of his favourite poems — "The Tiger" 
or "Cargoes" or "The Lake Isle of Innisfree." By the time he reached 
the door the whole class would be swinging right along with him. Som- 
erville taught the binomial theorem to grade nine for some reason. It 
was totally unconnected with anything else and nobody understood 
what it meant, but all his students knew how to do it. He was a poor 
administrator, but an instinctively brilliant teacher. 

Leacock had returned to the College to teach modern languages in 
1 888, and stayed for over ten years. He became great friends with Pea- 
cock, teaching the latter French while he himself studied economics. 
Although he was a fairly good teacher, he always claimed afterwards 
that he had hated it: "an experience which has left me with a profound 
sympathy for the many gifted and brilliant men who spend their lives in 
the most dreary . . . thankless and . . . worst paid profession in the 
world." 8 

Money was certainly a problem, but lack of it did not affect Lea- 
cock's wit. A colleague once asked Leacock to draft a letter about his 
salary to the governors. Leacock wrote: "unless you can see your way to 
increasing my stipend immediately, I shall reluctantly be forced to" 
and then the next page began "continue working for the same figure." 9 
When Parkin said to him, "Leacock, I wish I could break this perni- 
cious habit of smoking and swearing in the school," Leacock replied, "I 
know it's a difficult habit to break oneself of, Dr. Parkin, but if you will 
put all your energies into breaking yourself of it, I am sure that grace 
will be given you." Leacock's own version of his relationships with par- 
ents contains much that must be apocryphal, but he had a gentle way 
of dealing with parents who did their sons' homework which must be 



envied by all masters: "Robert tell your father that he must use the 
ablative after pro." 

One of the practical problems faced by the College in the nineties 
was that of leave. The usual questions — where, when, why, how 
long? — had to be asked in a totally new geographical context. From the 
beginning the boys had some difficulties with the new neighbourhood; 
for example, within six months three boarders got into an altercation on 
Yonge Street by calling a man "Whiskers," and they got raked over the 
coals by the Recorder. The College Times, under the editorship of B. K. 
Sandwell, denounced the school for its plan of compelling every boy to 
bring a written certificate explaining how and where he had spent his 
time on leave. UCC was "neither a young ladies' school nor an advanced 
kindergarten," thundered Sandwell, who felt the "inconvenient, 
impracticable, and fruitless" plan would "bring the College into deri- 
sion" in Toronto. 

In February 1893 a sensation was caused when three young adven- 
turers ran away, intending to go to Hawaii, where one of them had an 
uncle. After the boys had been away four days, the Chicago police 
called. The three had started out to paint Chicago red. When they 
returned to their hotel, two of them were in an amiable mood; the 
third, pretending to be drunk, did not undress. When the others awoke, 
the "drunk" had disappeared with their best clothes, jewellery, patent 
leather shoes, and $165. He was tracked to the Palmer House. Dickson 
told the press that all three had found UCC discipline "irksome" 10 and it 
would be only a matter of time before they were asked to leave. 

Amusements outside the grounds were one thing — it was obvious 
the boys were going to miss the fleshpots of King Street! Inside, plans 
were made for the same sort of organizations which had existed on the 
old site, with some fresh additions. The Musical and Dramatic Society 
was a spin-off of the old Literary and Debating Society and was 
designed to provide Saturday night amusement. A camera club was 
begun in 1893 under W. A. Neilson, and proved to be as long-lived as 
almost anything in the College's history. A fraternity named Gamma 
Sigma sprang up; it met outside the grounds, ate, drank, made 
speeches, sang songs, and went home. Tennis, the Rifles, life-saving, 



even some tentative snowshoeing, helped pass the time. (There was 
even an Anti-Moustache Club organized in 1892!) In June 1896 The 
College Times made the proud claim that every boarder could swim — no 
mean accomplishment. At Christmas 1900 two sound barriers were 
broken — an orchestra (of twelve) was started and a glee club was added 
to the choir, "to take up a more frivolous line of work." 

Perhaps the most salient feature of the program at the new campus 
was the introduction by George Parkin in 1897 of visiting speakers. 
George Munro Grant of Queen's; the Reverend Dyson Hague, well- 
known clergyman and author; the Reverend Louis Jordan; Professor J. 
F. McCurdy of the Oriental language department at the University of 
Toronto — all came in on Sunday evenings to talk to the boys. Parkin 
brought in a military historian from RMC, a professor of architecture 
from McGill, and R. F. Stupart, who had lived with the Eskimos; he 
himself spoke about his trip around the world, and W. L. Grant talked 
on Oxford. The results of such an imaginative schedule are unknown, 
but there can be no doubt that any boys who were predisposed to listen 
to such men could not help being impressed by some of them. 

Meanwhile, on the athletic front procedures were crystallizing and 
habits were forming which would carry on for eighty years. In 1897 the 
thorny question of team colours was settled: an entire team would get 
colours and they would carry on from one year to the next. The stew- 
ards' jackets and the three first-teams' sweaters, blazers, and caps were 
designed. College caps were ordered for the hoi polloi, and by 1898 
wearing them was mandatory. They bore the College crest, which, said 
The College Times, had "gathered around it so many traditions and so 
many historical associations. . . . Such uniformity in dress goes far to 
teach the true school feeling, and, moreover, tends very greatly to 
improve the appearance of the boys, both in the playing field and in the 

Thus are traditions begun. In 1898 the College crest had been in 
official use less than a decade. It had not really had time to gather his- 
torical associations, but the need was there and the crest filled the vacu- 
um. It symbolized something in College history — the Royal family? the 
pursuit of excellence? victory over one's enemies? Perhaps all three. No 



matter. It was something which unified the school, gave it standing, and 
was taken to its heart. 



The Phoenix 




off its hands; the College community was equally relieved to be free. 
Only Goldwin Smith demurred: ucc, naturally, had been sold for the 
imperialist, Tory, Anglican vote. As usual, Smith carried his views to 
extremes. There is little doubt that from a purely educational point of 
view the school was better off unhampered by political considerations. 

Bolstered by this sense of emancipation, Parkin and UCC moved into 
the new century with some confidence. The immediate undertaking was 
a preparatory school; the funds were available, 1 and the cornerstone 
was laid in June 1 90 1 . Ten acres west and ten acres north of the school 
were purchased for ten thousand dollars to accommodate Parkin's 
vision of increased enrolment and additional buildings. (The land was 
unfenced at first, and cattle caused some consternation among the pota- 
toes!) Parkin spoke of another ten thousand dollars for a natural corol- 
lary to the Prep — a gymnasium 2 and recreation rooms for wet, stormy 
weather. He was not satisfied with staff salaries, the highest of which 
was thirteen hundred dollars, compared to two thousand dollars in a 
Toronto collegiate where there was no housemastering to be done. For 
himself a salary increase to six thousand dollars helped to ease his 
financial burden. With the completion of the isolation hospital, Dr. 
A. J. Mackenzie was appointed resident doctor. 

The first scholarship celebrating the College's independence and the 
new century was established under the aegis of the Martland Scholar- 
ship Fund in March 1901 and showed an initial entry of about fifteen 
hundred dollars. It was in memory of John Martland, and the award 



was restricted to boys "who shall declare their intention to follow busi- 
ness or agricultural pursuits without first attending any University after 
leaving the College." Several awards were actually made under these 
remarkable conditions, but in 191 o the qualifications were changed to 
"boys who shall excell primarily in English Studies. . . ." 3 This is the 
only entrance scholarship on record until late 191 7. 

Even when things were going very well Parkin never became com- 
placent: there was always room for improvement. UCC had attained 
very high rank in Canada and was a powerful influence on the charac- 
ter of the whole nation. Parkin was determined that this should contin- 
ue. As usual he toiled with enormous energy; he seemed unhappy unless 
overworked. To ease the load he was urged by the board to appoint a 
vice-principal, an office unfilled since 1834. Despite the severe strain 
under which he seems to have spent all his time, Parkin resisted the 
move. Difficulties braced him up: he wrote almost with exhilaration of 
Grant returning late when his father was very ill, of Somerville threat- 
ened with typhoid, of Cochrane out of his head with a bad fall, and of 
the new housekeeper as a complete failure. In addition to running the 
school, Parkin maintained his outside contacts, lunching with 
Churchill, 4 dining with Laurier, visiting Government House, the Gzow- 
skis, the Wrongs, the Pellatts, and so on. He found it trying but felt it 
important to keep in touch with the right people. Nor did he lose the 
common touch. He reported cutting his eye playing a little after-lunch- 
eon hockey, and once, finding two masters shovelling snow, he took off 
his overcoat and had "a good hour and a half. . . just the thing to keep 
one's liver right." 5 In 1902 UCC won the Ontario hockey championship, 
an event which excited Parkin tremendously 6 and for which he gave the 
school a holiday. 

As the school prospered, Parkin's personal horizons broadened. He 
anticipated the defeat of Ross's Liberal government, and rumours indi- 
cated that he would be pressed to become the minister of education in 
the new Cabinet. He considered the acceptance of such a post to be his 
duty, even though it meant a permanent public life and "possibly sign- 
ing his own death warrant." 7 However, the test never came. In late 
March, Cecil Rhodes died. His astonishing will, revealing to the world 



his plans for scholarships to Oxford, was published on April 8, and 
shortly thereafter Parkin was summoned to England. 

Parkin had intended to spend July in England looking for masters, 
and to spend August travelling across Canada on behalf of the College. 
His house was down for extensive renovations while he was away. When 
he received the invitation to discuss the scholarship idea under Rhodes's 
will, Parkin left Canada in a mixed frame of mind: he did not yet know 
what the Rhodes trustees wanted, though he may have guessed and 
been cautiously exultant; on the other hand, he had not yet made up 
his mind about the Prep headmastership, a continual source of worry. 
Under some board pressure he had changed his mind about appointing 
Peacock, who had then resigned. Unfortunately, five more resignations 
had followed: Grant, Macdonald, Mathews, Playfair, and Watkins. 

It did not take long for Parkin to discover what the Rhodes trustees 
wanted. On June 25 he was asked to take over the Rhodes Scholarship 
Trust, and by August 1 he had accepted. As when offered the ucc post, 
Parkin was torn. The thought of leaving his friends and his hopes, of 
leaving others to solve his problems, made him homesick. But as the 
summer wore on, the "call to a larger and higher work" 8 gradually pos- 
sessed him, and though the College's future concerned him, the future 
of Rhodes's immense bequest concerned him even more. The Rhodes 
trust combined his educational and imperial interests on a higher plane 
than Upper Canada College could do. 

In late August, Parkin resigned from ucc effective October 1. He 
spent some time at the College in September, when the Prep opened its 
doors to forty-five boys; then he left for England. George Sparling was 
appointed acting-principal. With great prudence, the executive com- 
mittee had decided not to proceed with the improvements to Parkin's 

Parkin's impact on Upper Canada College was profound. 9 He 
arrived when the College was on the brink of disaster and left it with 
enlarged and beautiful grounds, several new buildings, sound finances, 
a dynamic games program, increased enrolment, and an enhanced 
reputation. (Every distinguished visitor to Toronto came to see 
Parkin — and Goldwin Smith!) In accomplishing all this, he had devel- 



oped healthy relationships with the government, the Board of Gover- 
nors, the public, and above all, the Old Boys' Association. This body 
had been conceived during the riotous meeting of 1887, born in August 
1 89 1, and incorporated in 1894. Parkin was really the first principal to 
have had the support of such an organized group of school friends. The 
OBA's two chief aims — to obtain control of the management of the 
school and to see that the College owned its own endowment — had 
been accomplished. Its failure to magnify the endowment into a sum 
with a permanent meaning for UCC was no fault of Parkin's. 10 

It is always difficult to assess a master's lasting influence with stu- 
dents; so it is with Parkin. He spoke to the assembled boarders every 
Sunday evening on a variety of topics, mostly to do with the imperial 
idea and Christianity. (Grant thought that Parkin never "got God and 
Oxford and the British Empire wholly separated."") But direct evi- 
dence of his effect on the boys is thin unless we assume that the enor- 
mous College contribution, in terms of men and of blood, to the First 
World War was a result of his teaching. 

Grant supplied a humorous sidelight on Parkin's evening talks. On 
one occasion Parkin kept the boys in prayers a long time, keeping duty- 
master Grant waiting. When the boys finally emerged the following 
dialogue ensued: 

Grant: "Why didn't you come straight from prayers?" 

Boy: "Please, sir, we did." 

"What kept you so long then?" 

"Please, sir, the Principal was speaking to us." 

"Oh, indeed, what about?" 

"Please, sir, I don't know." 

"You don't know?" 

"No, sir; please, sir, he didn't tell us." 12 

Despite his obvious and rather sensational successes, Parkin would 
have been the first to admit of failures, too. He was disappointed at the 
general lack of ambition among the boys regarding university distinc- 
tion: too many left the College too soon in order to get into business. His 



biggest disappointment, however, was the condition of the teaching pro- 
fession at large. Teaching had had clerical roots that were without ref- 
erence to material reward, but with the passing of time those roots had 
withered. By 1900 education was mainly secular, but people still 
expected to get good teaching at a cheap rate. Furthermore, Parkin 
believed that universal education meant that quality was sacrificed to 
quantity. It was only in the best English public schools, Parkin thought, 
that quality education could still be found, and this was because the sal- 
aries of headmasters and housemasters' 3 were on a par with those of 
lawyers, politicians, businessmen, and the Church. Canadians, said 
Parkin, paid lip service to education; teachers' work was held in low 
esteem and there were no pensions. He knew nobody in Ontario who 
could give their children the best while working in the educational field. 
He concluded sadly that he could not recommend anyone either going 
into or staying in teaching. 

A further area of partial failure was Parkin's relationship with his 
colleagues. Though he remained warm friends with many of them long 
afterwards, his daily contacts left something to be desired. He was 
impatient with the details of daily school life and found administrative 
routine frustrating. He tended to look down on his subordinates, espe- 
cially the Canadians, and found that by and large they did not share 
his earnest Christian outlook. Even their smoking exasperated him. 
Grant, teaching under Parkin, was highly critical of his future father- 
in-law, conceding his generosity and kindliness but thinking him an 
egotist with a vein of suspicion.' 4 

The timing of Parkin's resignation made it impossible to fill his 
place for the opening of the school in September and difficult to fill the 
vacant places on the staff. Denison, Boyd, and Henderson from the 
Board of Governors worked away in Toronto, while Parkin, helped by 
Somerville, did the same in England. Two good appointments were 
made. From Oxford came J. H. Crake, a first-rate English teacher, who 
stayed at the College for twenty-one years. In Toronto, William Mow- 
bray was appointed first English master, replacing Peacock. Mowbray 
was one of the few masters up to that time who had had teachers' train- 
ing. Mowbray and Crake between them built on Peacock's foundation 



and gave to the English department the stature that classics and mathe- 
matics had long enjoyed at the College — the tradition of fine teaching. 
Mowbray stayed at UCC until 1934. He was vice-principal for two years 
and then returned for a few months as acting-principal after Grant's 
death. A day-boy house was named Mowbray's in 1947. 

The governors looked on both sides of the ocean for Parkin's succes- 
sor. J. W. Flavelle was especially anxious that a Canadian be chosen, 
but evidence suggests that most eyes were fixed on Great Britain. 
Buchan and Dickson, the two Canadians appointed in the 1880s, had 
been appointed partially for political reasons because of their success in 
the Ontario system. Independence made it unnecessary to consider 
politics. Names of well-known English university professors were ban- 
died about, as well as those of a man from Cairo and of one from 
McGill. Several of the Englishmen were approached, but they refused 
to come to Canada, despite Parkin's belief that UCC was the most desir- 
able educational position in the country. After four months' work and 
the consideration of over twenty names, the post was offered to H. W. 
Auden, sixth-form master of Fettes College, an English public school. 
Both Parkin and E. B. (later Sir Edmund) Osier favoured Auden, and 
just before Christmas his appointment was announced. He was to start 
in February 1903 at a salary of five thousand dollars. 

Auden was thirty-six. He had had a brilliant record as a classical 
scholar at Cambridge and had taught at Fettes for eleven years. He had 
edited various classical editions for English publishing houses. He had a 
profound love of nature and was a keen fisherman and hunter. Auden 
was a believer in at least three educational ideals. The first was the 
importance of a beautiful environment as a factor in education; he held 
up the ancient Greeks and the glories of their Athenian surroundings as 
an example. Second was the education of character, a familiar theme 
by that time in the College's history and one which Auden believed was 
best carried on in a large residential school subdivided into smaller 
communities. Last, Auden emphasized that true education came from 
concentrating on a limited number of studies. He deplored the diminu- 
tion of "effort" at the expense of "interest," calling for a balance. He 
criticized the modern idea that boys should not be asked to learn what 



they did not want to: allowing them to pick and choose meant "intellec- 
tual dissipation" and the production of minds which were a "chaotic 
tumult of heterogeneous inconsistencies."' 5 In other words he favoured 
a core curriculum. 

Auden took over a school that was in excellent shape, with an enrol- 
ment of almost three hundred. Fees had been raised to $90 for day boys 
and $375 for boarders, and had been accepted. There had certainly 
been a turnover among the masters, but Jackson, Sparling, Somerville, 
Mills, Johnson, Holmes, and Cochrane maintained continuity. Joined 
by Mowbray and Crake, the ucc staff presented a strong front. As a 
welcoming present the board instructed architect W. L. Symons to com- 
plete the handsome wrought-iron College gate which had been 
intended to complement the new gate house.' 6 The board also approved 
four scholarships ranging from twenty-five to seventy dollars. 

Four months after he arrived at the College, Auden produced his 
first report for the board. It was an honest enough document, but 
scarcely diplomatic, and may well have created an atmosphere with the 
governors which never quite cleared up. Auden pulled no punches. The 
College should have a reserve fund in case of catastrophe. The Prep was 
too lavish, unwieldy, and pretentious; he doubted if it could ever be 
filled. The grounds were too large to look after and some should be 
leased to farmers. The main building was only in tolerable condition; 
much bad work had been put into it. The gymnasium was fair, but 
badly equipped. The swimming pool was too small and unworthy of the 
College. The buildings at the back were decrepit. In the course of time 
and as "millionaires increase,"' 7 said Auden, a covered skating rink, a 
proper swimming pool and gym, and a fives court could be added. 
Meanwhile the education of the boys and the securing of a good staff 
came first. He found the teaching excellent but the teachers underpaid 
compared to the high schools. He felt the need of a certain percentage 
of Englishmen who understood public school life — collegiate or high 
school men did not really comprehend boarding — but the salaries were 
not good enough to attract them. Furthermore, there was a lack of cen- 
tralization on the staff, with each man a law unto himself. Auden con- 



eluded by stating that his aim was efficiency and the creation of the best 
school on the continent. 

That there was much truth in the report cannot be denied, but to a 
group of men who thought they already had the best school on the con- 
tinent, it was a bit of a shock to find that so much was wrong. The 
board, however, set out to put things right. Successful attempts were 
made to increase attendance, which reached a peak of 361 in 1909. 
Each year showed a surplus. Money was donated by Samuel Nord- 
heimer, a well-known Toronto musical-instrument manufacturer, to 
pay for a musical director. Over two hundred elms and oaks were 
planted around the school boundaries. There was a feeling at the board 
level between 1903 and 1905 that things were going along very well. 

The years between 1906 and 1910 present a confusing picture of 
board and administration trying hard to make UCC the sort of great 
public school envisioned by Parkin and Auden, but not quite knowing 
how to go about it and never collecting the money to make their dreams 
a reality. Auden, a fine scholar, had neither the administrative talent 
nor the personality to pull things together. He had, however, correctly 
identified the faculty as the key to a first-class school, but he could not 
seem either to choose the right men or to keep them. Of his first twenty 
appointments, fifteen stayed four years or less. Only two long-service 
masters joined the staff during these years — C. G. Potter from Cam- 
bridge and the outstanding Marshall W. "Billy" McHugh of Caledon, 
who joined the mathematics department in 1904, became head of it in 
191 1, vice-principal in 1924, and stayed until his sudden death in 1929. 
McHugh was one of the legendary masters in UCC history, not simply as 
a mathematician but as a human being. Respected and loved by all, 
McHugh had a day-boy house named after him in 1933. 

Auden had spotted the inadequate salaries in his first report, and in 
1907 the first salary scale or grid in the College's history was developed. 
Junior masters started at $900, increasing by $100 every two years to a 
maximum of Si, 200. Department heads started at $1,200, increasing to 
a maximum of $1,500. The dean of residence (senior housemaster) 
received $1,500. This was a brave try and probably all the College 
could afford, but it was not competitive with collegiate institutes, which 



gave juniors between $1,200 and $2,000 and department heads up to 
$2,200. Auden's salary, in contrast, was about twice that of a Toronto 
principal. McHugh and Cochrane both resigned but were lured back 
by higher salaries. Cochrane, who had proved himself to be an enor- 
mous asset in gymnastics and swimming, had been offered a lucrative 
post in Chicago, but the board chairman paid the difference in salary 
out of his own pocket and Cochrane stayed at ucc. 

Building improvements were undertaken. A new gym and two class- 
rooms were added to the Upper School, and the swimming pool was 
lengthened at great expense. The ten western acres were improved for 
additional games fields. Because the rink was identified as being in a 
dangerous condition, plans were made to build a $25,000 covered rink 
north and west of the main building. This could serve as an assembly 
hall for all types of College meetings and a drillhall in spring and 
autumn. Architects Sproatt and Rolph drew up extensive plans for this 
as well as for a full-size pool but nothing came of either of them. The 
College could not afford to spend any more money; the Old Boys' 
appeal for funds had failed. One addition which gave pleasure to gener- 
ations of College boys, however, was an attractive white wooden "taffy" 
or tuck shop built largely by the Gooderham family.' 8 Other building 
considerations were further complicated by an architect's report that 
the tower seemed to be settling and that the ceiling beams over the 
assembly hall were sinking. Repairs were evidently made, because no 
more is heard of it for many years, but this report strengthens the sug- 
gestion that the main building may not have been well built. 

The school year 1909-10 saw a complete and inexplicable turn- 
around in the College's fortunes. Like a dam which holds back a 
mounting pressure of water and then bursts, the Upper School enrol- 
ment suddenly collapsed, and with it the financial picture. In October 
of 1909 the Upper School enrolment was 257. Two years later it had 
dropped to 183, and by 1916 to 113. The surplus to which the school 
had become accustomed since 1898 suddenly became a deficit, a dismal 
picture which lasted until after the war. The causes of the downturn in 
the College's fortunes are difficult to isolate, but in simple terms, many 
parents seem to have "lost faith" in the school. Auden's administration 



must have been lacking something, and of course the competition had 
become much stronger. Malvern, Riverdale, and Oakwood were all 
mature schools; St. Andrew's in Rosedale was ten years old and High- 
field in Hamilton nine. As well, Guest's imminent departure to start 
Appleby may have lost the College some students. Although 19 10 was 
not a good year economically, 191 2 and 191 3 were. Enrolment, how- 
ever, did not follow the business cycle. While the slide was accelerating, 
G. T. Denison resigned as chairman of the Board of Governors. He had 
been closely involved with the life of the College for a quarter of a cen- 
tury and at seventy-two could not be blamed for turning the school over 
to younger hands. W. G. Gooderham, who was president of the Old 
Boys' Association, became chairman of the board as well. 

As the College tumbled steadily downhill, masters came and went 
with regularity, the vast majority staying only one year even before the 
outbreak of war. An interesting and valuable year as modern language 
teacher was put in by F. C. A. Jeanneret, who later became chancellor 
of the University of Toronto. Jeanneret was remembered by students for 
his enthusiastic basketball coaching as well as for his classroom work. 
F.J. Mallett of Cambridge joined the College as science teacher in 
1914, left for the war, and then returned to teach chemistry, to take a 
leading part in College dramatic productions, and to supervise the 
cadet battalion until his retirement in i960. 

The obvious but rather desperate solution to the College's financial 
woes lay in selling the Toronto site and using the proceeds for two pur- 
poses. The first was to build a boarding-school in the country, a concept 
favoured by Auden. The second was to form a large endowment to help 
with masters' salaries, pensions, and other necessities. In late 191 3 the 
Toronto site was conditionally sold for $1,125,000 to the H. H. Suydam 
Realty Company, and a large property was purchased on the Credit 
River at Norval. Although it continued to be discussed for some years, 
this scheme to move the College to Norval was dealt a mortal blow by 
the First World War. In the end the College exchanged about twelve 
acres bounded by Lonsdale, Forest Hill, Kilbarry, and Dunvegan roads 
for over five hundred acres in the country. 

At the outbreak of war, Old Boys and masters flocked to the colours. 



The first Old Boy killed was Lieutenant G. Gordon Mackenzie of the 
Royal Scots Fusiliers, who lost his life on October 24, 1914, leading a 
brave but hopeless charge against a large number of the enemy occupy- 
ing a strategic wood. In a message to the school that first wartime 
Christmas, Auden stressed the importance of noblesse oblige and the 
heavy responsibilities which war laid on high position. If UCC did not 
do "her part ... we would be false to our upbringing, false to those 
ideals which have made our name great and for which Old Boys have 
lived and at the call of their country have died." 19 

In October 19 15 the Upper Canada College ambulance was pre- 
sented to the forces, driven by an Old Boy, Lome Crowther. It went to 
France in early 1916 and by May 191 7 had travelled almost three thou- 
sand miles and had carried almost five thousand wounded men. The 
College was very proud of it. By war's end, 176 Old Boys had died on 
active service and a very large number had been decorated. The boys of 
Auden's early years had joined up by the score: sixty-six of each of the 
entering classes of 1906 and 1907 were in uniform. The College had 
done its share — and more. 

In March 191 7 a board committee was authorized by the governors 
to employ somebody to investigate the internal economy of UCC. Clark- 
son, Gordon, the firm chosen, reported to Gooderham in June. Though 
the letter was delicately worded, it was a devastating indictment of the 
College administration and implicitly demanded immediate action. 
The report tabled the financial picture over the past nine years and 
pointed the finger directly at the Upper School enrolment. Even with a 
day-boy fee rise to $120 and a boarder rise to $450, the fee revenue had 
dropped over forty per cent with no corresponding reduction in expen- 
ses. The cumulative deficit was over sixty-five thousand dollars. The 
report went into great detail about the inefficiencies in all aspects of the 
school's operations from a business standpoint and the lack of co-opera- 
tion between those in responsible positions. It recommended the 
appointment of someone who could scrutinize all expenditures, control 
the staff, maintain proper records, and eliminate friction. 

Immediately the report was assimilated, a decision was made that 
Auden must retire. Simultaneously, the governors began considering 



names of men who might replace him. That of William Lawson Grant 
came immediately to the forefront and stayed there. It is not known 
who first suggested Grant — perhaps Vincent Massey, his wife's broth- 
er-in-law. M assey, in the army on leave from his post as dean of resi- 
dence at Victoria College, had always admired Grant, who had taught 
him at St. Andrew's College. In any event, on the same day Gooderham 
sent for Auden and Massey cabled Grant (on active service in England) 
that the position was his if he wanted it. 

In considering the appointment Grant had two things on his mind: 
the first was his obligation to Queen's University, where he had been 
teaching since 19 10; the second was his duty to the armed forces. UCC 
was so anxious to get him the board was willing to fall in with his views, 
no matter what they were. E. P. Brown, an Old Boy who eventually 
became the College solicitor, was blunt: he was delighted at the pro- 
spect of Grant's appointment and warned him to keep a close eye on 
the board, "who have shown few signs of judgment or imagination in 
recent years. ... I hope they will not interfere with you." 20 Grant was 
offered eight thousand dollars salary with the possibility often thousand 
in two years. His top priority, however, which he made clear to the 
board, was the assurance of higher pay for masters, especially the senior 
ones. He wanted sums like five thousand dollars to be paid to them; 
that was the essential condition for his return. Other conditions, such as 
a lifetime pension of one thousand dollars for Jackson, who had recently 
resigned after forty years, and the postponement of a move to Norval, 
were included, but on the key issue of salaries, Grant was intractable. 
He wanted senior masterships to be prizes to which young men could 
aspire; he wanted to start a movement raising the status of teachers 
throughout Canada. If he could hope to make UCC a model school for 
Canada, he would leave Queen's; otherwise not. No board could make 
promises for the future in 191 7, but Grant must have considered the 
possibilities bright. Some time in the late autumn of 191 7 he accepted 
the post as tenth principal of Upper Canada College, and on December 
18 he was officially installed. 

Auden was less than happy about being dismissed at short notice, 
without being taken into the board's confidence and without a chance 


Henry Auden, principal 1902-17, whose 
great hope was to move the school into 

the country. Norval is his legacy (J. 
Ross Robertson Collection, Metropoli- 
tan Toronto Library). 

M. W. "Billy" McHugh, brilliant 

mathematics teacher 1904-29 (Upper 

Canada College). 

William Mowbray, English master 

1902-35 and acting principal after 

Grant's death. The painting is by Wyly 

Grier. {The College Times) 

Arthur L. Cochrane, physical-educa- 
tion instructor 1894-1921. "A. L." was 
the father of Canadian children's camps 
and of the Canadian Life Saving Socie- 
ty. This picture was taken in the 1940s 
(Carol Bangay). 

A distant shot of the College, probably from the Prep, circa 1910 
(Upper Canada College). 

Dunvegan Road from the Dunvegan-Kilbarry area, circa 1910 
(Upper Canada College). 

The Gate House, completed in 1898 (Public Archives of Canada). 

The tuck shop built by the Gooderham family in 19 10. The windows were added later 

(The College Times). 

One of the suppressed fraternities in 1908. W. T. Willison (centre back), son of Sir 
John, was killed in the First World War (Upper Canada College). {Below) H. A. Rob- 
erts, a life-long UCC enthusiast, standing in front of the 1914-18 Honour Roll (Upper 
Canada College). 

The UCC ambulance (19 15) that the boys bought to send to France. After the ambu- 
lance was destroyed, Lome Crowther, the driver, joined the RFC and was later killed 

(from Roll of Service 1914-1919). 

The war over, life at school was revitalized. The Dramatic Club, 19 18 
(Upper Canada College). 

Upper Canada College Centenary 
Celebrations, September 1929. 

Inspecting the Guard of Honour. Lieuten- 
ant-Governor W. D. Ross and Captain 
Frank Shipp, officer commanding the 
cadet corps. 

A dance card from the 
Centenary Ball. 


1829 )929 

The colour party. 

{Right) Principal W. L. Grant at one of the centen- 
ary events. {Below) At Prize Day, 1929, (from left to 
right) Mrs. Colborne- Vivian; the Hon. Ulick Col- 
borne- Vivian, grandson of the founder; Mrs. W. L. 
Grant; the Hon. W. D. Ross, Lieutenant-Governor 
of Ontario; Principal W. L. Grant; Mrs. Ross; Miss 
Joan Arnoldi. {Bottom) A stylish crowd watching the 
cricket game, the camera, and each other. 

(Top) Owen Classey, former secretary to H. G. Wells, reputed to be the best French 

teacher in the province 1920-45 (Mr. Joseph Classey). (Above) J. M. B. P. "Jock" de 

Marbois, language teacher, skier, archer, linguist, raconteur, 1925-49 (Natalie de 



to say goodbye to the boys. He had loved his years at the College; now 
fifty years of age, he loathed the thought of leaving and doubted his 
ability to get another job. Overcome by a sense of failure, he asked Sir 
John Willison — the only governor whose opinion he valued — for a testi- 
monial, which Willison provided. The day after Grant's installation, 
Auden wrote him a warm and welcoming letter, tinged with bitterness, 
wishing him success and calling him the right man for the job. His last 
piece of advice was to press for a move to the country; Auden was sure 
that would be the College's salvation. His legacy to ucc was the superb 
educational facility now in constant use. 

Auden spent his later years teaching at the University of Western 
Ontario. His appointment to ucc, rather like that of Barron and Dick- 
son long before, had been a sad mistake, not just for the College but 
especially for the man himself. Not an easy or enthusiastic mixer, 
Auden was essentially an academic, who would have been much hap- 
pier and more productive at university work or with his sixth form at 
Fettes than trying to fill Parkin's shoes in an "Old Boy" environment 
and with a governing board he did not understand. The College's first 
real taste of independence had started with flags flying, but something 
had gone wrong along the way. 

The most important task facing any board is the appointment of a 
principal; a precondition is obviously agreement on criteria. Auden 's 
appointment was the first made by an independent board basking in 
the twilight left by George Parkin. There is no evidence of what their 
criteria were. It may be that Auden and the board simply did not see 
eye to eye and that with another group of men or at another school he 
would have been a stunning success. Grant's appointment, on the other 
hand, seems to have been a foregone conclusion as soon as his name was 
mentioned. Competition was nil. As the College moved into its tenth 
decade choosing principals was not as yet a science but an art still in its 
primitive form. 



School Life Under Auden 


WThen the twentieth century began, ucc had been in Deer 
Park for almost a decade. With the establishment of the Prepar- 
atory School it certainly looked as if the College was going to en- 
dure, though there were some who had doubts. A former boarder from 
Alberta wrote to Grant: "Mr. Somerville never gave me a civil answer, 
he just treated me like a dog. I pity the boys at UCC since Mr. Peacock 
left." 1 Another Old Boy in his late teens felt "that UCC is going down . . . 
it is not a place for any boy to be in." 2 These comments must be taken 
with a grain of salt. Education is so much a personal thing. Relation- 
ships with masters, especially in a school like the College, coloured all 
one's opinions; and, of course, after a boy left school, things were never 
again so good. 

By 1903 there were two new men, Henry "Hank" Auden and J. S. 
H. "Gimper" Guest, running the school. Guest had taken over the Prep 
the previous September and was comfortably ensconced by the time 
Auden arrived — one of the reasons for the Prep's developing independ- 
ence. Guest is remembered in a variety of ways by Old Boys: "an 
attractive personality," "a bit of a bully," "well-liked despite his strict 
discipline," "a man of fixed ideas, aloof, not warm, commanding a feel- 
ing of awe and respect, who would punish without investigation." 
Charles M. Chandler's memories of the Prep are vivid: 

It was essentially an English boys' school. Very English. I went there 
as a boarder, age 8 years & 10 months. Mr. Guest taught Latin, and I 
have to thank him for a good beginning. Mr. Guest's private quarters 



were to the north end of the building, and to reach them it was neces- 
sary to pass through the Dining Room. On the west wall of the Dining 
Room was a good sized alcove containing a piano. This was used on 
Saturday evenings for Square Dances (boys only) under the instruc- 
tion of Miss Sternberg, whom oldtimers in Toronto will recall. 

On Sunday mornings, after a breakfast of liver and bacon, we 
were off to Church. Wearing our Eton suits we walked a good distance 
along Lonsdale Road to Christ Church at Yonge Street. Our great 
concern was how long the service would last. After Church we were 
free to go home for Sunday dinner, and had to return by 8 p.m. sharp. 
Then we gathered around Mr. Guest playing his own piano and we 
sang hymns. We all hated it. Only Mr. Guest was satisfied. What a 
way to spend Sunday! 

Mr. Guest was a perfect gentleman and firm. I only once got in his 
bad books for some mischief which earned me a caning. But the very 
next day there was some disturbance in which I was not involved, but 
by chance I was tagged along with the two real miscreants. We were 
sent down to Mr. Guest who promptly produced the cane again and 
gave us each a good whack. Having been guilty the day before, ergo, I 
was guilty this time. No questions asked. Notwithstanding that, I 
greatly admired Mr. Guest. 

J. M. Baird, who entered the Prep in its first year, remembered that 

the masters were very strict, and had a habit of calling boys up in front 
of the class and caning them. The drawing-master, however, strolled 
around the class and pulled any likely pairs of ears, which added gen- 
erally to the mirth of the class, except for boys with large ears. There 

were about 3 masters and the three forms 

School started at 9.00 and lasted 'till 2.30, with an hour out for lunch. 
Most of the day-boys had to walk from the bottom of Avenue Road 
hill to the school, and were quite frequently, during the winter, 
greeted by a hail of snow-balls thrown by boarders soundly entrenched 
behind snow forts. In other seasons of the year snow-ball fights were 
replaced by apple fights in the orchard across the street at the corner 
of Forest Hill and Lonsdale Road. A lot of day-boys rode ponies to 



school. The day-boys' ears were frequently frozen when they arrived 
at school. 

Hockey, cricket and "soccer" were the games played. Rugby 
started in Prep in fall of 1903. Games were not compulsory, but were 
played after school, with anybody who wished to going home. 

The Prep's only purpose in those days, was to prepare boys for the 
College, and it was called the "Incubator." 

Despite the good fun and enjoyment evident in so much of Prep life, 
the fates could be cruel and the life harsh. In early 191 7, a Prep boy 
who refused to wear his school cap outside the College grounds was 
expelled, apparently without warning or any discussion with the par- 
ents. The father put up no sort of resistance, simply asking for a partial 
refund, and adding a plaintive postscript: "This is rather hard on the 
son of an Old Boy." 3 

Writing in The College Times years later George Glazebrook recalled 
his years at the Upper School: 

The music, acting, woodwork, and clubs that are now part of school 
life were almost wholly absent then. There was little beyond classes 
and games. For myself, once in the Upper School, there was one addi- 
tional interest in the College Times, which for two years I had the pleas- 
ure of editing. I carried from the Prep an elementary knowledge of 
football and a budding enthusiasm for the classics. Even the great 
Billy McHugh failed to arouse in me any interest in mathematics; but 
that fine scholar, H. W. Auden, quickly opened for me the magic 
pages of Greek prose and poetry. Stonewall Jackson firmly marched us 
through the Gallic Wars, and Jimmy Crake (whose stern manner was 
so misleading) guided us through Cicero's great passages. 

The masters, as they had from the beginning, dominated the boys' 
lives and memories, though Auden himself, curiously enough, is not 
recalled in a colourful way — only as a remote, distant figure and a fine 
scholar. He probably was confined to the office and did little in the way 
of teaching, especially to the younger boys. Stony Jackson joined the 
Quarter Century Club in 1902 and continued to march through the 



classics. C. G. M. Grier, writing in Old Times years later, recalled him 

Jackson . . . was despite his beard and steel-grey hair, a comparatively 
youthful figure. He was a great walker. He never wore a hat — a thing 
we marvelled at in days when all men wore hats — but always carried 
a hard black Christy, the regulation College "bowler" of a previous 
decade. There was a legend that a stout steel chain hung from the ceil- 
ing of his sitting room; he climbed it every morning to keep his arms 
and grip in trim for mountaineering. He never missed a first team 
game, a boxing tournament, or the steeplechase. Occasionally, when le 
mot juste was necessary, he deputized for Mr. Auden after prayers and 
let the school know exactly what he thought of its behaviour. And you 
could hear a pin drop. 

The routine of Stony 's Latin classes in the Fourth Form was as sys- 
tematic as the man himself. We would arrive on Monday morning to 
find him sitting there — grey suit, straight collar, a light cravat that fas- 
tened at the back, (when it occasionally came undone without his 
noticing there was a feeling of impending doom), a pearl horseshoe tie- 
pin, neat hair parted a little to the right of centre, and a pair of half- 
moon pince-nez hanging from a hook inside his left lapel. We reached 
our desks to find on each a small slip of foolscap, ruled, with just five 
lines on either side. He would then dictate five sentences in English 
which we (using pencil, no pens were allowed) translated into what we 
thought was Latin. This done we took them, as we finished, to his 

Using a broad blue pencil Stony would underline mistakes and 
mark, if one was lucky, a cryptic NFC on the corner of the paper. That 
stood for No Fair Copy. Lacking that message, we did the exercise 
again for homework — and we had better get it right. The conversation 
at the desk was a quiet monologue; we stood, he explained. There 
were no impatient gestures, no histrionics; it was just good teaching, 
man to man. 

On most other days we assembled as a group at the front of the 
classroom, seated in order around three sides of a rectangle facing Mr. 
Jackson. That order was decided by the outcome of the previous con- 
sortium; you went "up" or "down" according to your skill, or lack of 



it, in answering questions, translating authors, or memorizing the jin- 
gles in an 8-page pamphlet in which Stony had condensed, in rhyme, 
the most important rules of grammar and agreement. 

The Fifth was the Junior Matriculation form; it generally marked 
the great exodus from the College to the university, rmc, Osgoode 
Hall, or "business." Classes were more informal, with greater emphasis 
on Bradley's Arnold, less on Caesar, more on Virgil, plus a new form 
of exercise called "unseens." These were extracts in continuous prose 
selected from authors that we had not read. For them we were allowed 
to use our own copies of a 900-page Elementary 7 Latin Dictionary 
thoughtfully supplied to us the year before. 

Barstow Miller, head boy of 1915 and a boarder, recalled Jackson as 
a housemaster: 

His tuneless whistle as he made the rounds of the flat let you know 
that he was coming. He always knocked on a bedroom door. He 
caught Colour Sergeant R. A. Curry, Sergeants H. H. Essex and B. H. 
Miller playing poker with "S.M." Carpenter — for maple buds, and 
didn't bat an eye. He made it possible for prefects to have a smoke in a 
room around the corner through his hallway. He advised against ciga- 
rettes in favour of pipes. How upset he was when he heard boys sing- 
ing "The Saints are on the Bum." How he ruled the boxing 
tournament — no ohs or ahs — only polite hand clapping between 
rounds and when the bout was over. How he conducted the meetings 
of the Stewards — to teach us procedure. And the Easter Banquet! To 
teach us how to handle after-dinner toasts and speeches, even the odd 
gently risque story. He even advised us to cut alternative tufts of bris- 
tles from a tooth-brush so that the brush would clean between the 

Many years later, Chandler remembered an anecdote about Stony: 

A few weeks after the exams, I remarked to my Father that we might 
invite Stony for a few days visit at our place near Newcastle, Ontario, 
a distance of some 47 miles down the Kingston Road. We contacted 
Stony who accepted readily. Now we knew Stony to be an ardent 



mountain climber and walker, and he insisted that he would walk 
down from Toronto! We tried to discourage this but he insisted. The 
appointed day arrived and Stony had his walk as far as 
Bowmanville — 7 miles away. At this point he called us and we gladly 
came and picked him up. He told us he had enjoyed the walk and that 
he had stopped for refreshment, a glass of beer and a banana. 

Despite his being one of the giants of UCC history, there is no evi- 
dence that Jackson ever aspired to be principal. In all likelihood he 
realized that he wielded more influence on individual boys as a master 
than at the helm. He stayed right through Auden's time, resigning only 
in the summer of 191 7, and then holding things together until Grant's 
arrival in December of that year. 

Jackson's sidekick in the English department after 1902 was the 
earnest William Mowbray. Mowbray did not inspire in the students the 
same kind of blind worship that Jackson did. At the same time, he was 
respected and remembered. When he joined the staff, replacing Pea- 
cock, he was regarded as one of the best English teachers in the prov- 
ince. He was not long at UCC before he was recognized as something 
special. Norman Macdonnell, Rhodes Scholar of 1908, said of Mow- 

He was genuinely stirred by great literature; and he had the faculty of 
inspiring his pupils with something of his own emotion. Many of us 
feel that he not only explained to us the few plays and poems pre- 
scribed for matriculation, making us see at least a little of their beauty 
and splendour, but somehow awakened and encouraged in us the 
desire to read further and gave us standards by which to judge that 
which we read. Perhaps he did it chiefly by taking some of the pas- 
sages and reading them to us as they should be read. Across the babel 
of thirty years we can still hear his "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and 
tomorrow." It was rather a drab classroom; we sat at cramped desks; 
he stood on a dais before a greyish blackboard. But all that vanished; 
the centuries rolled back; we heard the Queen cry and Macbeth him- 
self unburden his heart. 

But Mr. Mowbray was more than a master of English. By his per- 



sonal qualities he won a remarkable place in our affections. It was by 
no accident that, at the end of his second year, the Sixth Form cele- 
brated their farewell to the College by taking him down town and giv- 
ing him a dinner. We dined not so much a master as a friend. For 
many reasons, for his length of service, for his excellence as an English 
master, for his faithful work as house-master and Vice- Principal, his 
name will be among those honoured at UCC. But by many of us he will 
be remembered chiefly because he represented in himself so much of 
what is best in life, loyalty and affection, generosity and indignation 
against wrong, modesty and a sensitive regard for others. 

By far the best appointment made by Auden was that of Billy 
McHugh, who joined UCC in 1904. He was an informal man, with no 
need to be a disciplinarian; he was friend of everyone, beloved by every- 
one. At the dedication of McHugh's memorial tablet in 1931, Mowbray 
said in part: 

To enjoy his friendship was to enjoy a great privilege. To those who 
knew him well his life was an open book. Everything about him pro- 
claimed the man. Whatever he did or said bore the impression of his 
personality. Even a brief word or a passing smile went straight to the 
heart. . . . He was happy in his work. He was fond of games. All his 
associations were extremely pleasant. There never was a man more 
completely in harmony with the life around him. ... As Mathematics 
Master he was incomparable. Whole generations of boys could testify 
to this. . . . Such great popularity as he enjoyed would have been dan- 
gerous to most men. But it did not affect him at all. Sometimes, I fan- 
cy, he wondered what it was all about. . . . He received from us the best 
we had — our appreciation, our love, our confidences, our loyalty. But 
the sum of these is small in comparison with what he gave. 

The mild, well-mannered J. H. "Jimmie" Crake was yet another 
splendid teacher. At his death in 1924 Grant said: 

He was always ready to believe, never ready to doubt; and it was this 

characteristic that made it impossible to lie to him He used to have 

an almost uncanny way of finding things out. . . . Yet, although he got 



to know everything, he never used his knowledge against us. . . . But 
however much he knew about us, for better or worse, he was always 
the same kind friend 

From time to time a master was appointed who excited the scorn of 
the boys and colleagues alike. Such a one was the unfortunate B. Wat- 
kins, whom Parkin took on in 1901. Grant, who taught in the room next 
to his, described in his diary a few typical scenes. 4 

The boys christened him the Muskrat, which they call him to his face. 
My room H2 is separated from his only by a thin partition with knot- 
holes through it. Hence, I hear the merry din. Here are examples. 

"Sir, he's got my pencil" shrieked at the top of the boys pipe, with 
a long rasping burr on the first word Si-i-r-r-r-r-r. 

"Sir, he's a liar" intonation from the accused. 

"Sir, are you going to let him call me a liar?" 

"Hush, Hush" from Watkins. 

"Sir, you always favoured him, you wouldn't let anyone else call 
me that." 

"Hush - Hush." 

"Sir-r-r, it is my pencil. I lent it to Parker and Parker gave it to 
Marlatt, and Marlatt gave it to that fellow, and it is mine." 

"Sir" from the accused "Sir, I know what you are, Sir, you're only 
a Musk-rat." 

Silence for a moment after this last audacity. Then suddenly Gor- 
don Parker with much spirit starts up 

"For it's always fair weather, 

When good fellows get together 

With a stein on the table, 

And a good song ringing clear." 

Take another scene. 

Biggar, another substitute, but doing fairly well, comes in to speak 
to Watkins. Yells from the whole class "Get out of this, hick-top" "You 
ain't wanted here, little Biggar." Biggar, not knowing their names and 
so unable to pick out any special offender, flies hastily. 



Soon after George [the janitor] comes round to collect the slips 
with the names of the absentees. "Hello George" "George, do you 
know the Muskrat" "George let me introduce the Muskrat." 

Watkins tries to write something on the board. A well aimed piece 
of chalk catches him on the back of the head. He turns in time to see 
another boy throw a book across the room. Roused at last he dashes at 
the offender, who flees, and a steeple-chase over the benches occurs, 
amid cheers from the class: "Go it muskrat!" The boy finally caught, 
he is in so exhausted a state that a feeble shake alone is given, which 
the boy treats as a joke. 

The fault is wholly his own. With me, or with Guest, they are 
lambs. But he is too kind before he has become respected, and he 
makes that most fatal fault, of threatening, and threatening in a 
pompous voice without performing. This is the sort of dialogue which 
goes on. 

"Rogers, if you don't behave better, I shall be regretfully com- 
pelled to cane you?" Furious babel from the class which gradually 
becomes articulate. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"That's the way to talk to him, Sir." 

"When are you going to begin, Sir. Ah Sir, you don't mean it, 

"Oh, Sir", the last word being prolonged by the whole class with a 
tremulous rising intonation till it sounds for all the world like the 
sough of the wind in a grove of poplars or around the eaves at mid- 

After another raucous incident, Guest spoke to them severely to 
the effect that they were unsportsmanlike, and this had its effect on the 
quieter ones. I sympathise with them, for any man who lets them 
behave so has only himself to thank. However, I spoke in private to 
Clarkson and Parker and told them that they owed something, if not 
to Watkins, yet to themselves as gentlemen and the sons of gentlemen. 
They listened respectfully, but I question if it does much good. 

Parkin came into my room and hearing through the partition, 
asked me if this turmoil hindered me in teaching. "It frequently makes 
it impossible" said I, for though I would not say a word if he did not 
ask me, yet when he asks me I feel free to speak, especially as old 



Weary-face, though well-meaning, has rubbed me the wrong way once 
or twice. "What do you consider to be the correct theory as to the 
cause of the uproar?" said G. R. My theory was that the boys had 
made it because old W. did not control them, but this seemed so obvi- 
ous that I said nothing. Subsequently I advised him if he kept Watkins 
at all, to give him another form, say I ic, to which I would speak 
severely at the beginning. But it would be better to dismiss him for he 
has money of his own, and so one can be ruthless without pity. He 
could only get I IB back into control by a fierce brutality which is not 
in him. Peacock had trouble at first, so had I; (witness I ic) but this is 
far worse than even J. A. G. Lloyd had; "one must go back to the days 
of Carpenter to equal it" said Grant. Carpenter would pat a boy on 
the head, and say "You're a mischievous little fellow." Carpenter was 
the man who announced that he had come to rule by love, and who 
ended by caning eleven boys in an hour. On one occasion he had to 
cower behind his desk while they threw books at him. But that was in 
the old bad days of the "out of sight" form, before whom even Peacock 
quailed, and of whom only Johnson was master. 

Auden carried on Parkin's policy of inviting well-known men to 
speak to the school, though there were not nearly as many. The themes 
were often religious in tone, and on several occasions were connected 
with medicine: Dr. Jay, a medical missionary in Nigeria; Dr. Hannah 
of the Hospital for Sick Children; Dr. Parsons on behalf of the Heather 
Club; Dr. F. C. Harrison from the Home for Incurable Children, all 
appeared between 191 1 and 19 13. The messages, as one would expect, 
were concerned with values: patience, honesty, purity of life, moral 
courage, unselfishness, self-respect, teamwork, discipline, loyalty. There 
was also some emphasis on the high reputation of the school itself; the 
work of the Old Boys was praised time and again. 

There were sporadic efforts to make hobbies and clubs a vital part of 
College life, but there is little evidence that they thrived except from 
time to time. In 1901 "extra" curricular activities were much in evi- 
dence. An orchestra, helped by one of the masters taking up the bass 
viol, grew from two lonely members — Peck with a cornet and Amyot on 
piano — to thirteen: four violins, two violas, one cello, a clarinet, a flute, 


a trombone, and drums. There was a glee club of twenty voices and a 
choir of twenty-five. After this, interest waxed and waned until a musi- 
cal craze in 19 17. The ancient debating society was reborn for a short 
period in 191 1 and 191 2. Among their subjects were: Public Ownership 
is for Public Good (defeated) and Votes for Women, reported as "an 
uproarious subject." The supporters of the women's franchise "had to 
be forced to adopt their side against their inmost convictions — the 
unfortunates being chosen by lot." 

Old Boys of that era do not remember the clubs program, and it 
may have been because of boredom that secret societies or fraternities 
gained such a foothold in the student body. Auden felt quite concerned. 
In 1907 he asked the board to suppress these groups and received the 
reply that the school was hardly strong enough to take revolutionary 
measures and had better proceed cautiously. By 1908 the governors had 
changed their minds and instructed Auden to do away with them. It is 
not clear whether he had any success. At least one fraternity existed 
through the twenties, and there is a passing reference to the subject as 
late as 1934. 

The boarders, as they have always done through good times and 
bad, considered themselves the heart and soul of the school. Day boys 
could drift away at 3:15; the boarders remained — they were UCC. R. Y. 
Cory recalled his years at the beginning of the century from a perspec- 
tive of sixty-five years: 

When my family moved from Halifax to Toronto in the autumn of 
1899 I was entered as a boarder at ucc aged 12. . . . When I had 
reached about the Fourth Form the fees were raised to $375, and I 
remember grave family discussions as to whether I should be 
withdrawn, sent as a day boy, or sent to a public school. However 
a boarder I remained until 1904 ended. 

The College grounds were still pretty bare at the turn of the cen- 
tury. St. Clair Avenue was a dirt road bordered with pine trees. A 
struggling golf course lay to the West with a view clear to the Humber. 
Farms, a creek and the old Belt line were to the North and to the East 
a few dirt streets, leading to Lawton Avenue (named after citizens who 



had followed when the College moved from King St.), but few, if any 
houses. The old streetcar line on Avenue Road ended at Dupont St., 
and it was a long lonely walk up a plank sidewalk to the College gates. 
One house was over the hill, the Baldwins', as I remember. Streetcar 
tickets were 10 for a quarter. 

Life was pretty tough for a new boy boarder. There was a nice lit- 
tle initiation called "Running the Gauntlet," two long lines of old 
boys, armed with switches, and a second edition, when one crawled on 
hands and knees through the legs of the big boys, armed with paddles. 
And one could be called before a group at any time to sing a song, or 
eat soap. I was fag of Constantine, prefect and hockey captain, with a 
wicked shot. I had to be at his sixth form flat at first bell, get his jug 
filled with hot water from the bathroom, and shine his boots. His 
father was Royal Canadian Mounted Police Commandant; so I had 
to do a good job, including shining the soles, and rubbing the brass 
lace inlets 

The meals, as I remember them, were abundant. Breakfast: por- 
ridge, milk, bread, butter and jam. Lunch: cold meat and biscuits. 
Dinner: choice of beef or pork, beef or lamb, two vegetables, and a 
pudding. Of course the young appetite was never satisfied, and there 
was the "Taffy." Auntie Harrison had followed the College from King 
St. and opened a small shop on Delisle. For 5 cents one could get a 
pyramid (a noisome big chocolate cream) a sticky bun and a bottle of 
pop. For the more affluent there were pork pies, cakes, etc. But 5 cents 
was my limit, and I think a third of my weekly allowance. 

The sixth [form] were a great bunch, including Sir Charles 
Wright, who went on the South Pole expedition with Scott, and after- 
wards led the party to bring out his body. 

In 1966 a Prep master, H. J. P. Schaffter, interviewed Vincent 
Greene, who had been at ucc from 1906 to 1908. 

It was strongly classical, of course — good brain food. But I was a play- 
boy, unfortunately, and I never worked very hard. My father pulled 
me out after a couple of years and put me into the bank. It was the 
best thing he could have done. 

I have a great affection of ucc. I loved every minute of it. We had 



some awfully nice masters — awfully nice. And of course we had a long 
family connection with the place. My paternal grandfather, Colum- 
bus H., was there in 1840 and my father, Henry Vincent, from 1873- 

1877- ••• 

The friends I made [I value most]. It's one's boyhood friends, of 
course — one's oldest friends — that one cherishes most. I had a lot of 
good friends. All but two of them died in the First War, though my 
closest friend of all, Eric Phillips, survived. He became the second 
youngest colonel in the British army, you know — a colonel at twenty- 
two. He remained a lifelong friend. 

. . . when Phillips and I were at Upper Canada together — we must 
have been fourteen or fifteen — we formed a business partnership, 
"Phillips and Greene," manufacturing and selling furniture polish. It 
was wonderful stuff, too mind you! We called it, "Peerless Polish: a 
Perfect Polish for Particular People at a Popular Price." The popular 
price nearly ruined us. We sold the stuff to our parents' friends and the 
relatives at twenty-five cents a bottle and it cost a good deal more than 
that to manufacture. We practically went bankrupt. 

[The masters] were a great lot — I could write a book about them! 
There was Billy McHugh who taught us geometry — I never met a 
man with his personality. I loved his subject and was generally first in 
the class. Then there was "Duke" Somerville, a very able man. 

Another great master was "Spike" Marling. He taught me at the 
College in '06 or '07. One day he said to me in class, "Greene you talk 
more and say less than any boy I ever knew." Eric Phillips loved to 
remind me of that famous remark! . . . 

I was often in trouble. I'll never forget one time when Charlie Del- 
bos, a French master, gave me a gating after school and I skipped it. I 
managed to dodge him for a couple of days but the third day he lay in 
wait for me outside the Prayer Hall and nabbed me coming out. I was 
hauled away by the scruff of my neck to be caned. 

Now Charlie Delbos was a talented artist and, as I walked into his 
room, I saw a striking painting he had done of the College at night, 
looking up the avenue, with all the lights on. 

"That's a wonderful painting, Sir," I said with deep feeling. "I've 
heard, of course, about your fame as an artist ..." and we plunged 



into a great old discussion about art until he suddenly reminded me of 
the business on hand. 

"Well, let's get on with it," he said, rather briskly. 

"Just a minute, just a minute, Mr. Delbos! Surely I have time to 
admire some of your other paintings . . . ?" Eventually, he forgot all 
about the caning and we sat down and had a very pleasant cup of tea 
together. Of course, he was a very nice fellow. There are not many 
times we escaped from masters like that 

During his last two terms in 1908 Greene boarded and kept a diary, 
from which the following are extracts: 

Tues.5. I brought a book into Delbos's room today and had it under 
my arm when Mr. D. grabbed it from me without saying a word and 
tore it up. As I borrowed it from Jimmy Crake he will have to apolo- 

Sun.31. For the first time at college I wore long trousers and a very 
unpleasant sensation it seems walking into the dining-hall with every- 
body staring at you! [V. G. was three months over sixteen.] 

An interesting comment on the first two decades is that of Mark F. 
Auden, son of the principal: 

The teachers drilled the students, didn't draw them out. The students 
didn't question them. In general, the teaching was competent, though 
not exciting. The most influential was McHugh because of his human 
qualities and his mathematics. 

The Boarders all lived together, not in separate houses and some 
stayed for the Christmas holidays because it was too far to go home. 
We had to make our own beds. We had no complaint about the meals. 
There wasn't much fagging — just hot water brought around to the 
prefects and stewards who tended to be "hero-worshiped." There 
wasn't much bullying either — only the boy who didn't fit. 

After Junior Matric, a little more than half the class stayed behind 
for Senior Matric, the remainder went to McGill or RMC or into busi- 



For fun, we tobogganed down Avenue Road hill, snowshoed, 
swam in the creek north of the College grounds and at Christmas 
watched Eaton's Santa Claus parade go down Yonge Street, with real 
reindeer. We also had a cow, kept in the field north of the College 
building, which gave us our daily milk. In the autumn, I rode in the 
cart gathering up the leaves, driven by Wright the gardener, who kept 
the grounds with only one helper. 

Mark Auden stayed at the College well into Grant's time and 
became head boy in 1922. The rural, insular school which his father 
had inherited from Parkin was well on its way to becoming urbanized. 
The next fifteen years would see a new set of problems to be dealt with. 





^ H Filliam lawson GRANT, known for no good reason as Choppy, 
1 /% /was forty-five years old when he came to Upper Canada as prin- 
W Wcipal at the end of 191 7. Born in Halifax, he was the son of the 
immensely influential George Munro Grant, principal of Queen's Uni- 
versity. He had been educated at Queen's and Balliol College, Oxford, 
the latter experience impressing him almost as deeply as it had Parkin 
twenty years before. For four years he had taught at UCC, followed by 
two years at St. Andrew's College. After some disagreement about a 
practical joke with the headmaster, and tired of schoolmastering any- 
way, he had then resigned and gone to the University of Paris. Nine 
years of teaching colonial history at Oxford and Queen's were followed 
by two years of military service. Grant had edited volumes on Cham- 
plain, New France, and Canadian constitutional development; he had 
written the Ontario high-school history of Canada and a biography of 
his father. In 191 1 he had married Maude, Parkin's second daughter, 
whose outstanding intellectual and human characteristics were to make 
her the ideal wife for a College principal. 

Grant saw his job from a high perspective: Upper Canada College 
was a great historic school whose task was to train boys in the belief that 
they had a responsibility to help solve the grave problems facing Cana- 
da. Soon after Grant took over the College, Peacock wrote to him: 
"You are moulding the men who are ruling the country. ... At no time 
in its history has the Empire been more in need of . . . leading and you 
are one of the leaders." 1 Grant's plan was to make an ideal school, then 
turn to the government and tell them to follow the model. 



Grant was full of energy and ideas from the very beginning of his 
administration. He made some pithy reflections about curriculum and 
teaching: how a boy studied was of prime importance; he would prefer 
a Canadian boy to "study Chinese metaphysics under a stimulating 
teacher than have him study [history] under an ass." What a boy stud- 
ied was also important, and Grant thought the ideal school would have 
each boy study whatever he wanted. Realizing this was impractical, 
however, he compromised by choosing courses fitted for the greatest 
number. This meant giving prominence to science and English, and rel- 
egating Latin to two compulsory years only — to assist in English gram- 
mar and as a basis for Romance languages. One of the greatest 
hindrances to the improvement of Ontario education, said Grant, was 
compulsory Latin at matriculation. The average boy spent more time 
on it than anything else and left school "unable to utter three grammat- 
ical sentences or to write a grammatical business letter." The improve- 
ment of English should be stimulated by "books, books, books. Reading 
maketh a full-man," and he encouraged debating and drama. Com- 
partmentalized subjects must be linked up: "Mathematics and Physics 
must meet. . . . History and English must kiss each other." The average 
Canadian professional "had a brain far in excess of his ability to think 
or to express himself with lucidity." Grant wanted two-thirds of the 
educational system scrapped and a few simple experiments launched. 
This would be better, Grant postulated, than the current situation in 
which nine out of ten headmasters were "devoured by the birds of 
Pedantry and Philistinism." 2 A part of his interest in experiment and 
innovation grew from his impatience with the Ontario education sys- 
tem, which he considered ridden by examinations. 

Grant wasted no time in putting into practice some of his experi- 
mental concepts: public lectures, a concert, and a play took place 
during his first six months. Grant was convinced these helped the boys' 
education as much as the regular classwork, and in addition they 
brought favourable publicity. On the academic side he almost immedi- 
ately split the third and fourth forms to ensure better grading, and he 
added two more masters. He knew, however, that his ideal school could 



not be brought into existence without the support of its constituents, 
and to this end he started to make Old Boys and others welcome. 

Grant's relationships with the College community were, on the 
whole, excellent. 3 Aided immeasurably by Maude, who had immense 
social confidence and was indifferent to the wealthy, Grant opened his 
house to a wide variety of visitors, parents, Old Boys, masters, and stu- 
dents: being principal was a whole way of life. There was not much 
going on in Toronto and many turned out to the College cricket games; 
there was tea every Sunday, and the school dances had great social sig- 
nificance. Mixed with Grant's hospitality was an appraisal of the 
unrealistic expectations of parents, a tremendous sense of fun, and a 
down-to-earth perspective of what a school could and could not do. To 
a mother who blamed the masters for her son's failures, he quoted a car- 
toon in Punch: "It is a wonderful dispensation of Providence, Madam," 
says the Headmaster to the fond mother, "that all dull boys are 
orphans." When Alan Stephen once asked for a reference, Grant wrote 
the following: "Mr. Alan Stephen was employed ... in our Preparatory 
Department. . . . his unfortunate temperament caused difficulties 
between him and its Principal [Somerville], a most admirable and 
amenable man. . . . Last year he was foisted on me again by a conspira- 
cy. .. . The chief difference which I find in him is that he has developed 
a taste for beer. . . ." 4 And on the College's place in the Canadian edu- 
cational world, "there is no better education being given in Canada 
today than that given at ucc — and that is atrocious." It was not that 
Grant felt it was truly bad, simply that it could be so much better. He 
never stopped trying to make it so. 

In order to pursue his vision of a great school, Grant focused on two 
areas for which much money would be needed: scholarships and a 
strong faculty. The first related to the type of student entering the Col- 
lege. Because there were no entrance examinations, ability to pay was 
the only entry criterion; Grant was not very impressed by the academic 
standards resulting from such a system. Also, fees had risen in both 191 8 
and 19 1 9 and Grant did not want ucc to become a rich man's school. 
He was anxious, therefore, to establish scholarships to enable boys to 
attend who would otherwise not be able to. He thought a few might be 



founded in memory of Old Boys who had been killed in the war. This 
idea found favour with some men; the first such scholarships — three of 
them — were endowed in 1918 by William Southam of Hamilton in 
memory of his son, Major Gordon Southam. Eleven more followed by 
1920. 5 

The faculty presented other problems. In the summer of 191 7 the 
College had only Crake, McHugh, Holmes, and Cochrane of the old 
faithfuls. Before school opened H. E. "Willy" Orr was taken on as a 
classical master. Judicious, trusted, respected, the soul of integrity, Orr 
stayed at the College longer than anyone else, dying while still on the 
staff in 1966. The seventh day-boy house was named after him in 1976. 
Another appointment was that of Miss Mary Tucker, the first woman 
teacher ever to be appointed and the last for many years. She had had 
several years teaching experience, had headed her year in natural sci- 
ences at the University of Toronto, and in 191 5 had earned an MA for 
original research in physiology. In her green eye-shade and black calico 
dress, she taught physics for seventeen years, knitting socks for all the 
boys who received first-class honours. When the war ended, Grant and 
the governors decreed that Mallett, Mills, Mowbray, and Potter were 
entitled to be reinstated if they so wished. All of them did return, Mills 
and Potter badly scarred psychologically by their wartime experiences. 
Grant wrote to Willison: "By God, if I could get with me 'a band of 
men whose hearts God had touched' I could do something for Canada 
poor thing though I am." 6 He determined to build such a band. 

Before he had been at the school a full year a staggering increase in 
enrolment 7 encouraged Grant enormously. It meant that people 
believed in him and in the College; it also meant a greater need for 
scholarships, more masters, a higher salary budget, more playing fields, 
and better facilities. The following years saw the College tackle these 
questions with a good deal of vigour and imagination. 

First, the two large areas north-east and north-west of the main 
building were spotted as prime areas for both cricket and football. With 
the help of an Old Boy, Lawton Ridout, these two areas were graded 
and turned into four football fields, the north-easterly one being taken 
over by the first cricket team in the spring. 8 These fields were ready for 



use in the spring of 192 1, at which point games were promptly made 
compulsory for all boys physically fit, an innovation of great signifi- 

To prepare for this historic move, Grant introduced in the autumn 
of 1920 a system of "houses"; that is, he divided the school into four 
groups. Two were day-boy, Martland's and Jackson's; two, Seaton's 
and Wedd's, were boarder. Each house in theory had about sixty boys 
(from the beginning the day-boy houses were over-large) and had its 
own prefects. Prep boys went to Seaton's and Jackson's, new boys to 
Wedd's and Martland's (a practice which was abolished in 1933). 

The house system originated in English boarding schools for a 
purely practical purpose — namely, the supervision of students who 
came to live near a school because of its teaching. House systems then 
grew and adapted to the needs of each individual boarding-school. But 
the advantages of houses could also be applicable to day-schools. First, 
such a system harnessed the team spirit very well; most boys who could 
not make a school team could represent their house in some sport. Sec- 
ond, it provided a testing ground for positions of responsibility among 
the boys. Third, it made possible for each boy a close relationship with 
one master, who gave the kind of academic and general guidance no 
headmaster could give. Fourth, good (and bad) influences among the 
student body could be recognized more quickly. Last, it gave housemas- 
ters an opportunity, outside the classroom, to exert the kind of leader- 
ship which was such a vital part of the satisfaction felt by the true 

When translated into practice at UCC the theory worked well. The 
house system changed the entire athletic complexion of the school. 
Instead of first and second teams dominating the program, each house 
had its own senior and junior teams and its own fields to play on. 
Housemasters were appointed and house loyalties grew up. 9 There were 
far more opportunities for prefects to take on responsibilities, especially 
in the boarding-houses, which four years later were divided 
physically — Seaton's moving to the east of the tower, Wedd's to the 
west. All boys had one master to whom they could go for advice 
throughout their time at the College, and for the boarders a community 



spirit was more easily developed. As the years passed more day-boy 
houses were added, but boarder enrolment kept the boarding-houses to 
two for sixty years. 

At the same time as these developments were taking place, two 
attached houses for staff were built overlooking Lord's field. One of 
these was paid for largely by donations from students; it was to house 
George Simmons, school janitor since 1887. Simmons died in 1931 after 
forty-four years' service and was replaced by the equally respected John 
Rilley. (Rilley in his turn stayed twenty-three years.) Also, the tuck 
shop was enlarged, thanks to the father of a College boy appropriately 
named "Fat" Muirhead. 

Behind the scenes, Grant was facing the Board of Governors with a 
synopsis of the school's current situation, its needs, and his estimate of 
the funds required to supply the needs, ucc had forty acres in Deer 
Park, the Norval property, no debt, some scholarship and prize money, 
and about $15,000 for an endowment fund. It needed $500,000 as a 
permanent endowment for salaries and pension funds, $350,000 for 
scholarships, and $500,000 for additional land, buildings, and facilities. 
These included the purchase of more land to the north and the laying 
out of new playing fields there, a new principal's house, a science lab, a 
new rink, a new preparatory school and a pre-prep, houses for married 
masters living near the school, and multiple changes in the fabric of the 
main building. 

An Upper Canada College Endowment and Extension Fund was set 
up and an executive committee of Old Boys formed under W. G. Good- 
erham. The appeal for $1,500,000, the final target, was not limited to 
the school community but went beyond to the general public and 
received some press support. A sense of urgency was added by a twen- 
ty-five per cent increase in the city school salaries 10 and by the forma- 
tion of the Secondary School Teachers' Federation, both in 1920. 
"Signs of the times," said Grant. 

The direction of all this activity meant that the move to Norval was 
being deferred, if not abandoned. Grant seems to have been quite ambi- 
valent about such a move. On the one hand, he could list reasons for 
not going to Norval, especially its remoteness. He was concerned about 



accessibility in winter, the difficulties of keeping a sub-staff together, the 
masters getting on "each other's jaded nerves." At the same time he 
could list as many reasons for escaping the powerful lure of Toronto, 
where the boys became "too citified, learned extravagance and dissipa- 
tion, mental though not moral, at the movies and the ice cream par- 
lors." He told the stewards in 191 8, "God made the country, Man made 
the City, and the Devil made the small town." In Toronto the day-boys 
corrupted the boarders, who spent study time dreaming about the 
delights they "wrongly suppose the day-boys to be . . . enjoying." Grant, 
like all his predecessors, could not throw off his ingrained belief in the 
power of boarding to offset "the good life." He railed against parents 
who abandoned control of their children by allowing or even encourag- 
ing them "to go to more and later dances and theatre parties" and "frit- 
ter away the best of their time and energy in a round of very 
unintellectual giddiness." In spite of these feelings Grant actively plan- 
ned the development of the Deer Park property. 

While the endowment drive was getting up a full head of steam, 
Grant had some of the same reservations about his work that his father- 
in-law had had twenty years before. Some of the masters were not 
attending evening lectures he had arranged, and their numbers at Sun- 
day evening service was very slim. He found this hard to explain to the 
boys. For Grant, education was a great adventure to be shared by all. 
Real intellectual zest did not come wholly from the classroom. In an 
uncharacteristic state of depression, Grant announced that he would 
decide some time that year (1921) whether or not he would stay on. He 
loved UCC, but if the hope of working out his ideals was lost he would be 
happier returning to university work. 

Luckily, Grant decided to stay on. By the middle of the decade he 
had revolutionized Upper Canada College. The enrolment rocketed: 
420 in 1919, 503 in 1922, 608 by 1926. Taking advantage of the 
increased demand, day-boy fees were raised to $200 by 1925." Boarders 
had to pay $750 (a fee which then remained unchanged for over twenty 
years.) By 1925 the College had an accumulated surplus of almost 
$50,000. The endowment fund had almost $300,000 promised, of which 
$250,000 was in hand. As a result, eight new scholarships were endowed 



and twenty-two boys received bursaries. In five years not only had 
Grant added five men to the staff, he had raised the average salary by 
almost fifty per cent. This was a hard struggle; the high-school mini- 
mum was still well above the College's lowest salary, with the Prep men 
being worse off than their Upper School colleagues. A magnificent new 
house, named Grant House in 1935, was built for Grant by Gooderham, 
and a new nine-classroom building, named after Parkin, was added to 
the Prep. By the spring of 1925 Grant thought ucc was the best school 
of its kind in Canada, and the best salaried. Men like Willison and Pea- 
cock continued to be in close touch with him and warmed him with 
their praise. "The change is very great," 12 wrote Willison. "The College 
has . . . developed that allegiance of its friends and especially Old Boys 
without which the institution cannot work."' 3 

During this hugely energetic and productive period, the school lost 
some old and valued friends. There were two deaths, Wedd's and Par- 
kin's. Wedd died in May 19 19 at the age of ninety-four. He had given 
magnificent service to the school and been deeply beloved by all. (On 
his eighty-ninth birthday, a group of Old Boys had presented Wedd 
with a purse of almost five hundred newly minted gold Canadian dol- 
lars.) Three years later Parkin died, too soon to see the opening of the 
Prep building named after him. The Toronto Daily Star remembered him 
as having "planted with his own hand the trees that are now the great 
elms which flank the approach to UCC."' 4 

Two long-service masters retired. Robert Holmes, who had joined 
the College in 1891, had taught drawing for twenty-nine years. In 1920, 
when president of the Ontario Society of Artists, he resigned to devote 
himself to the government art school. 15 In 192 1 a more severe loss was 
felt when an extraordinary individual left the College staff to spend 
more time developing his boys' camp in Temagami. Arthur L. 
Cochrane had run away from his home in England at fifteen and joined 
the Grenadier Guards, where he overcame weak lungs by long-distance 
running, boxing, fencing, gymnastics, and swimming. He had also 
become interested in the newly formed Life Saving Society. Arriving in 
Canada in 1894 with an introduction to Goldwin Smith, he had 
responded to a College ad for a temporary drill instructor. With no for- 



mal training, he bought texts, practised everything himself, and became 
appointed honorary representative of the Life Saving Society in Cana- 
da. In 1895 he established the Upper Canada Life Saving Corps, the 
first in the country. The next year he organized the first boxing tourna- 
ment at ucc and trained fencers as well. He stressed physical fitness, 
character development, and the recreational rather than the military 
aspects of physical education. The College owed to him the birth of 
gymnastics, boxing, and life saving. Cochrane was said to have bought 
the first pair of skis ever sold in Toronto. Outside the College he became 
famous as the pioneer children's camp director in Canada and a mov- 
ing spirit in life saving and camping across the country. For twenty-five 
years an intimate relationship developed between the College and the 
camp, the latter being almost the summer session of UCC. 

As the College moved through the second half of the 1920s, the rosy 
glow from the first half continued to light the sky. Enrolment increases 
continued and surpluses, though modest, were commonplace. The sal- 
ary account in 1928 was four times that of 191 9, though still not quite 
comparable to the Toronto collegiates. The 1926 matriculation results 
were the best in thirty years, although even then only one-third of the 
leaving class went on to university. The clubs — music, travel, modern 
languages, drama, debating, and science — were booming. Grant, with 
religious fervour, saw UCC as a living being which he intended to make 
supreme in scholarship, games, music, drama. This living community 
sought an end, he thought, greater than that of any of its members. It 
was doing the will of God. The ideals about which he had talked with 
Peacock thirty years before were being realized. His hopes soared: 
"Can the Curfew Club' 6 not give us a Prime Minister?" 

One of Grant's outspoken enthusiasms was the study of French, and 
his commitment to this end, along with his honest admiration for the 
French people in Canada, helped to make him something of a public 
figure. In 1926 his history of Canada was withdrawn from the British 
Columbia high schools because of its presumed pro-French and anti- 
British bias. He spoke again and again of the high standard of French 
teaching under Owen Classey, who headed the modern languages 
department; so much so that some inferred an attack on the Orange 



Order. He said it was the hardest thing to find one man from the 
twenty-four hundred members of the Canadian Club who could make a 
decent two-minute speech in French. In Grant's view, it was the duty of 
every Canadian to do his best to have a working knowledge of both 
French and English. The inference that his support for French meant 
that he was anti-British was ridiculous: a typical visitor to the school in 
1928 was Colonel L. C. M. S. Amery, Secretary of State for Dominion 
Affairs in the British Cabinet, whose talk to the boys on Canada and 
the Empire was reported at great length in The College Times. 

Mid- 1 92 7 brought discussion on a new topic: Grant felt there were 
too many day boys vis-a-vis boarders (480 to 150) and that the school 
was unduly crowded. The possible solution for immediate consideration 
was a new location. A committee was set up and the subject was debat- 
ed. There was general agreement that a move, probably to the north, 
could be made, as long as the College was not financially crippled by 
too grandiose a scheme. If the College were to remain much longer in 
Deer Park, it was reckoned that $140,000 would be needed for another 
playing field, a science wing, and a new residence. The Endowment 
and Extension Fund had fallen far short of its original goal, reaching 
only about $325,000. Auden's 19 13 dilemma was being re-lived: sell the 
property, buy another, and put the difference into endowment. There 
were two basic differences in thinking though. One was the retention of 
the Prep at Lonsdale Road to act as a feeder: the governors felt parents 
would not send young boys out of town. This meant a smaller area of 
Deer Park was for sale. The second was that the College must remain 
accessible to older day boys; Norval, therefore, was unsuitable and 
should be disposed of. 

In September 1928 the committee submitted its report. For a new 
main school of 150 boarders and 250 day boys, costs were estimated at 
$1,525,000. The total worth of the College's assets was put at between 
$950,000 and $1,125,000. An anonymous donation of $100,000 left 
between $300,000 and $450,000 to be obtained somehow. The commit- 
tee viewed several possible sites (one at Bathurst and Sheppard) before 
deciding on a hundred acres on the east side of Yonge Street at the 



northern height of Hogg's Hollow. The property was known as the Van 
Nostrand Farm and was available for $225,000. 

While the College authorities were ruminating on this information, 
September 1929 arrived, and with it the College's centenary celebra- 
tions. A plaque was placed at the corner of King and Simcoe to com- 
memorate the years UCC had spent at that location. A glittering ball, 
attended by fifteen hundred people, was held at the Royal York Hotel, 
and a garden party took place at the College itself. A special convoca- 
tion of the University of Toronto was held to confer upon Grant the 
honorary degree of Doctor of Laws. This well-deserved accolade recog- 
nized not only Grant's scholarship and administrative ability, but also 
the close historical connection between the university and the College. 
H. J. Cody, the chairman of the university's board, paid tribute to 
UCC's "public history and public tradition." 17 

In his Prize Day Speech of 1929 Grant outlined all the reasons why 
the College would be the better for a northward trek. In doing so he 
made a pointed allusion to the original school, "whose buildings were in 
many ways superior to those of today, in which the Senior Masters were 
housed and paid on a scale which enabled them to be men of real dig- 
nity and importance in the community." While this was true, he neg- 
lected to mention that the original school could afford neither its 
buildings nor its salaries, and that it was the size of the establishment 
which had caused seventy years of political turmoil, reducing the Col- 
lege to the state where it could no longer afford to pay its teachers prop- 
erly. Speaking to a large and friendly audience, Grant threw down the 
gauntlet. The move might never be made; it was up to the Old Boys, 
the citizens of Toronto, the people of Canada, to make the decision. 
Only they could supply the money (now $600,000) which Grant 
described as "not a large sum as gifts to education are reckoned today." 

So the centenary ended 18 with warm feelings for the past and high 
hopes for the future. There were difficulties to be overcome, of course. 
There was continued criticism at the board level of the fact that the 
architects (Sproatt and Rolph, and Mathers and Haldenby) were not 
Old Boys, and the criticism spilled over to the plans and designs. There 
was talk of a new street or highway cutting through the east end of the 



new property. There was doubt cast on the title to the property, and the 
acreage was alleged to be too small. The adjacent St. Andrew's Golf 
Club had some objections. All these road-blocks were eventually 
cleared away, however, and the property was purchased. 

The committee had worked hard and courageously to reach the 
point of buying the Hogg's Hollow site, but it must have been peering 
anxiously over its shoulder. Fifteen years previously the Norval move 
had been virtually wiped out by the war. This time it was Wall Street's 
Black Thursday and its aftermath. When the board had trouble finding 
a chairman for its special finance committee, the writing was on the 
wall. The Board of Education dickered for a portion of the Deer Park 
grounds for a high school, but the offer was much too low. The one nar- 
row silver lining to the gloomy thunderheads was that the Carnegie 
Corporation seemed interested in making an educational grant in Can- 
ada, and Dr. F. P. Keppel, the president, had liked the Georgian char- 
acter of the new design.' 9 Serious doubts were openly expressed through 
1 93 1 about the advisability of moving ahead, and when Mathers 
and Haldenby released their estimates of construction costs — 
Si, 477,800 — the College's brave new plans were all but dead. The gov- 
ernors decided that building operations would not be undertaken. 

Fortunately another benefactor was waiting on the sidelines. In the 
spring of 1932 Vincent Massey, now a member of the Board of Gover- 
nors, entered the lists. Massey reckoned that $600,000 could be avail- 
able from a combination of the Massey Foundation ($400,000), the 
Carnegie Foundation ($150,000), and R. A. and Walter Laidlaw 
($50,000). He suggested that the College stay on the present site. They 
could remodel the 1891 buildings, construct two boarding-houses and a 
gym, and level new playing fields for $350,000. That left $200,000 to 
put into an endowment fund, and they could hang on to the north 
Yonge Street property. It did not take long for the governors to accept 
the inevitable: the decision to stay in Deer Park was made. Massey's 
generous and foresighted action was taken, as he said later, because of a 
firm belief in the functions of the independent school. There is no doubt 
that the College would have been in a serious situation if he had not 
come to the rescue. 



In the next seven months events moved with incredible speed. The 
College added two handsome boarding-houses for about fifty-five boys 
each; an enlarged library (with a full-time librarian); an art room (with 
a full-time art master), and a craft shop (with a man to run it); a Little 
Theatre seating about 125; more space for music; a new science labora- 
tory; and two new playing fields. (Tennis courts were added a year lat- 
er.) Grant was jubilant about what he considered striking 
improvements in the buildings and especially about turning "a dreary 
and repulsive back yard" into a serene and lovely quadrangle. 20 Writ- 
ing from London, Peacock expressed sardonic amazement: "the idea of 
the old place becoming beautiful is new to me. ... if the front . . . has 
become beautiful, something radical must have been done to it." 21 

Imaginative as the reconstruction had been, it left two legacies with 
which Grant and his successors had to deal. In the main building itself, 
no steps appear to have been taken to examine the basic structure 
before alterations were made: twenty-six years later the entire building 
was condemned and razed to the ground. The second legacy was finan- 
cial. The huge Massey gift was not enough. The total cost of the build- 
ings was almost $475,000, with the result that several elements, 
including the gym and artificial ice, were postponed. Theoretically this 
should have brought the scheme in just about at budget, but by the end 
of 1932 it simply was not so. The cost had exceeded the estimates by a 
large margin; this, together with a yearly deficit, overdue accounts, 22 
and a non-existent endowment fund, created a very real problem. The 
world-wide economic catastrophe had something to do with this state of 
affairs, but the fact remained that despite the champagne days of the 
past decade, Upper Canada College was property-rich and cash-poor. 

At the end of 1932 Grant's good cheer at the renovation was bal- 
anced by his exasperation at the financial situation and the obvious 
prospective salary cut. He complained to R. A. Laidlaw that not 
enough effort had been made to collect money since 1920 and very little 
before that date. The surplus which he had built up throughout the 
1920s was gone, and Grant drove home the point that capital expenses 
(and overdrafts) were being paid at the expense of underpaid masters 



who had served the College well and were mainly responsible for the 
surpluses. Morale, concluded Grant, was the issue. 

Almost as though he had read the principal's thoughts, H. E. Orr 
wrote to Grant, drawing his attention to the large capital expenditures, 
the $200,000 set aside explicitly for salaries and pensions, the 
announced salary reduction, and the consequent feeling of uncertainty 
among the masters about the benefits, if any, accruing to them. Orr 
wanted to know whether pensions had first claim on the endowment 
and asked for a contributory pension scheme. Lastly, he asked that the 
cut be applied to the one year 1933-34 only. This letter was a landmark 
in the relationship between the board and administration on the one 
hand and the masters on the other. It is interesting that Orr referred to 
Grant in his letter as "our representative on the Board of Governors." 23 
For over a century there had been no pension scheme at all; masters, 
with few exceptions, had had to beg over and over again for retiring 
allowances. Grant's response, however, was not overly warm: pensions 
would not necessarily have first call on the fund; but the other two 
requests would be carefully considered. 

During the next year a lot of thought was given to both salaries and 
pensions, but especially the latter. Massey pressed for a pension fund as 
soon as possible, and in February 1934 the details of Upper Canada 
College's first pension plan were approved by the board's executive 
committee. It was a fitting climax to Grant's administration. Orr tried 
to push still further by requesting that all staff salaries be made public 
to the staff. Although Grant felt that not only should salaries be much 
higher, but that they should be widely known in order to tempt the best 
men, his views were not supported by the board and Orr's request was 

From the beginning of his administration, staff salaries had had a 
high priority on Grant's list and for a good reason. He recognized that 
the school's reputation depended on the kind of men he could persuade 
to join him in his crusade to make Upper Canada College something 
special. Between 1920 and 1934 he appointed a really exceptional 
group of men — eccentric, crotchety, quaint, though widely travelled 
and highly intelligent — a collection unprecedented in the history of the 



College. He had inherited some of them, true; the rest he searched for, 
high and low. Scarcely a year passed without an exciting new appoint- 
ment, many of whom stayed for some time. He wanted, not qualified 
professionals, but lively amateurs who had personalities and something 
to contribute. He had certain standards: "It is essential that a man . . . 
be a good disciplinarian; . . . any . . . trying to rule by love would get a 
rude awakening." 24 Again, about an Englishman: "There is no need for 
him to be a Beau Brummell or to have the Balliol manner. I have no 
objection to his being crude, provided he is promising." 25 Grant was 
generally delighted with his strange collection of colleagues who shared 
his avid taste for what he called "sane experimentation." It would be 
impossible to describe everyone who came and went in Grant's time but 
equally impossible to ignore some, for whom a thumb-nail sketch must 

Sergeant-Major F. N. Carpenter: Had been a pre-war Auden 
appointment but returned under Grant and became a powerful figure 
in the College for twenty years. He brought the Rifle Company to a 
very high peak of perfection and influence in College life, and he also 
coached all games and taught physical education. 

Owen Classey: Head of French for twenty-five years and reputed to 
be the best French teacher in the province. He had once been private 
secretary to H. G. Wells. Classey operated in some isolation from his 
colleagues, taking no games and filling in for no one: nobody ever filled 
in for him; he never missed a period. He started the Modern Languages 
or Babel Club, which in 1928 put on a play entirely in French, exciting 
interest throughout Ontario. 

J. M. B. P. "Jock" de Marbois, CBE, Legion of Merit (U.S.A.), La 
Legion d'Honneur (France): The quintessential Grant appointment. 
Born in Mauritius, he married the Countess Tatiana Vladamorovna, 
whose father had been head of the Russian Horse Guards when the 
Czar was deposed. (He had been hunted through Russia with a price on 
his head.) Spoke twenty languages. In 1938 he helped form the Ontario 
Secondary School Ski Association. Started archery, took College trips to 
western Canada, built a wooden polo horse surrounded by wire to teach 
polo. A commodore RN and RCN, he had highly responsible posts in 



naval intelligence during the Second World War. In 1945 he taught 
Slavonic studies. 

Arthur Killip: Could teach almost anything. In 1929 he became 
first headmaster of Hillfield in Hamilton, but returned to teach at UCC 
in 1950. He refused to leave the condemned Upper School in 1958 until 
Alan Stephen bribed him with a bottle of whisky! A first-rate tennis 
player and cricket coach. 

H. P. Blunt: Taught English brilliantly, and was quite at home in 
Greek. When he lost his leg in a hunting accident in 1931, his life was 
saved by Parlee, who carried him miles through the bush. 

M. H. C. "Big Mike" Bremner: Taught maths. A perennial first- 
team cricket coach and boxing referee, whose brusque "Break! Box on" 
is imprinted on the memory of generations of schoolboy boxers. 

L. M. McKenzie: Replaced McHugh as head of mathematics. He 
had the reputation as the best maths teacher in the province, but this 
was probably only true for good students; he may have been the worst 
for timid boys, who were frightened rigid by him. His teaching of differ- 
ential calculus attracted the attention of the Ontario Educational Asso- 
ciation. Mathematics were his whole life, and he took no real part in 
the life of the school. Despite this he became principal in 1943. 

Alan Stephen: Energetic and full of ideas, another typical Grant 
appointment. He taught history very well, and cricket enthusiastically. 
In 1934 he became Prep headmaster and turned it head over heels. 

J. H. Biggar: Old Boy and Rhodes Scholar. He taught history with 
great emphasis on current affairs, and started Visites Interprovinciales 
in 1936 to encourage closer relationships with Quebec. 

H. G. "Rik" Kettle: Resurrected art at UCC, dead since Holmes left 
in 1920. Exhibited boys' works at the Picture Loan Society Gallery. 
Started elaborate painting of flats for Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. 
Started printing department with H. Kay and sculpting with W. Cox. 
Influenced top Canadian creators — Tom Daly, Michael Snow, Paul 

Nicholas Ignatieff: Taught Canadian history. He began College 
trips to the west and the Arctic in the mid-thirties. He later became 
Warden of Hart House. 



There was also Medley K. Parlee, a wartime flyer who could not 
stand loud noises; a favourite of Grant's but extremely individualistic, 
he was dismissed by MacDermot. Others included Keith Crowther, 
who founded Onondaga Camp; G. Winder Smith, who became head- 
master of Lakefield; the Reverend John Davidson, who taught religion, 
anthropology, and track and field; Geoffrey Andrew, an excellent 
English teacher; C. H. "Herbie" Little, an Old Boy, Rhodes Scholar, 
superb athlete and French master; and C. G. M. Grier, later headmas- 
ter of Bishop's College School. There were several fine musicians: Regi- 
nald Goodall, later a great Wagnerian conductor; Ernest MacMillan 
(later Sir Ernest); and Ettore Mazzoleni, a co-worker of Vaughan Wil- 
liams and Sir Adrian Boult, who later became principal of the Royal 
Conservatory of Music in Toronto. An important non-academic 
appointment was that of K. D. Scott, who became assistant bursar to 
Ormsby in 1933 and gave outstanding service to the school for forty 

Not only did Grant employ — and keep — men of obvious quality, he 
was constantly pushing into new territory: elocution and drama in 
1918, Spanish in 1920, music in 1925, a full-time librarian in 1934. He 
made an arrangement with the English public schools under which a 
master would come to ucc for a year. As a result, the College benefited 
by a succession of men: Roseveare from Winchester in 1927; Tatham 
from Eton in 1928; Eric Reynolds from Rugby in 1931 , who later 
became headmaster of Stowe; Spreckley of Marlborough; Taylor of 
Mill Hill; Rendall of Felsted. All were able; all added to the spice of 
College life. 

Experiments were a great love of Grant's. One of his most important 
was the introduction in 1933 of a form called Four Modern, for the non- 
intellectual who had little interest in university. He saw that the Col- 
lege had a number of these boys, good citizens and potential leaders, 
who needed a different approach. Grant substituted current events for 
Latin at the grade ten and eleven levels. Another "experiment," which 
turned into a semi-tradition lasting forty years, was the first Gilbert and 
Sullivan operetta, put on in 1929 to celebrate the centenary. A literary 
supplement to The College Times, called In Between Times, and the begin- 



ning of art and carpentry also gave Grant enormous pleasure. They 
meant that a boy was getting a breadth and variety of mind, a hobby or 
interest to carry with him through life. 

Grant was given a free hand to experiment by the Board of Gover- 
nors, who were not much interested in new ideas themselves. Grant 
found board members on the one hand honest, kind-hearted, and sober 
citizens, but on the other both ultra-conservative and obsessed with 
althletics. On one occasion when the College buildings had been lent to 
the Students' Christian Movement (which contained a few socialists), a 
special meeting of the board was called to discuss the wisdom of the 
move. It took the board an hour and a half to decide that no harm had 
been done! Grant found the board's athleticism somewhat more trying, 
especially after the costly reconstruction of the buildings. Even after sal- 
aries had been cut, Old Boys kept complaining about the lack of new 
skating facilities. 

Another aspect of the College games program troubled Grant. He 
had always been opposed to professionalism creeping into school sports. 
He feared the generally low ideas of the professional coach, the training 
rules that made athletics a fetish, the loss of a proper perspective, and 
the fanaticism in which the faculty eventually shared. Grant's response 
to this challenge, which has almost always been the College's response, 
was to keep the coaches amateur — in point of fact, the masters. Some 
members of the board were at odds with Grant on this point. 

UCC was hit fairly hard by the Depression, and Grant's last school 
year (1934-35) was one of declining enrolment, a very narrow surplus, a 
flat salary scale, and talk of decreasing fees. In January old stalwart 
Frank Arnoldi resigned as College solicitor, and W. G. Gooderham 
resigned as chairman of the board, to be replaced by R. A. Laidlaw. A 
kindly man of great generosity, Gooderham had served the College for 
over thirty years. 

In mid-January Grant gave a sermon to the boys on the subject of 
school discipline, which he felt had in it too much of the law of revenge. 
It was to be his last. A few days later he caught a cold. His lungs, never 
the same after his war injury, were not strong and the cold turned to 



pneumonia. On February 3 he died. When they heard the news, the 
provincial legislature stood a minute in silence. 

Grant's contribution to Upper Canada College from all points of 
view was monumental. Under his leadership enrolment at the College 
doubled, bursaries grew, the salary budget doubled, and the pension 
plan began. In his time the house system was introduced and the rifle 
company grew to maturity. Clubs flourished; boys worked hard. UCC 
was a happy, buoyant school, a school where people cared. The public 
saw Grant as a frequent contributor to literary and political journals, a 
speaker at public meetings, an active supporter of the Workers' Educa- 
tional Association, and president of the League of Nations Society. The 
press described his great personal courage, his irrepressible generosity, 
his inexhaustible faculty for remembering names. He was instrumental 
in the formation of the Canadian Headmasters' Association, dying the 
year before it was born. The son and son-in-law of two great Canadian 
educators, he proved himself to be in his own way, and in a smaller 
sphere, a third. 



School Life Under Grant 


7 ■'HE imminent END OF THE WAR and the arrival of Choppy Grant 
put new life into UCC. As early as April 19 18 The College Times re- 
ported on a regular pre-breakfast run "led by the Principal," several 
interesting lecturers, including Dr. Wilfred Grenfell, and Saturday 
morning school with Wednesday and Saturday half-holidays. An elocu- 
tion class was started, and a revived dramatic society had performed 
both Chesterton and J. M. Barrie plays before the end of the year. Fif- 
teen lively years had begun. 

An enormous number of Old Boys who were at the College between 
the wars remember those days, but — as might be expected — each 
remembers them somewhat differently. The imprint of Upper Canada 
on some boys was deep and remained that way long afterwards; on 
others the experience resembled a swim in lukewarm water — bland and 
pleasant enough, but with no long-term effects. The men who hated the 
school were unwilling to say so. The fragments of memory we have sug- 
gest happy and generally fruitful times. 

F. H. Howard recalled Somerville's method of assigning forms in the 

I can remember Dad bringing me to school the first day and I was 
lined up with a lot of other new boys. As far as I can remember that's 
the first time I'd ever met Somerville. He asked me then what back- 
ground I had, where I'd been to school, I guess to identify what I 
could do. Suddenly I was in Form 3B. 


Howard also recollected his life in the Prep sixth form: 

All I remember then was Somerville himself teaching us the Gettys- 
burg Address and Sam Foote saying that male — or female — the 
human buttock is the most beautiful curve on the body, which seemed 
kind of risque to me because that was something you never even talked 
about; but Sam Foote introduced us to art and the word "sepia." I 
remember I made drawings and paintings and water colours under 
Foote, and he also taught us Gothic script, which we were all very 
proud of. And the only other thing I remember was that the Duke had 
a library and he introduced me to P. G. Wodehouse and Psmith, the 
character. I read him again the other day and I couldn't find out what 
I thought was so good about it! 

When I came back I was in a 6th Form for a second year because I 
was deemed too young to go to the College [Upper School] and all I 
remember about the second year is learning all the same things I did 
the first year. Since I already knew the Gettysburg Address I didn't 
have to learn that. Then I was scorer on the first team, and Somerville 
took an intense interest in statistics of cricket and you had to be most 
meticulous in the way you kept the scores. 

John Graham remembered: 

When I entered the Prep in 1920 at the age of eight, there were five 
forms. Masters I remember are Foote, Hollingshead (spelling bees, 
Latin), Spooner, Somerville — all impressive in different ways. Latin 
was started at 9, French at 10. ... A. L. Cochrane, the PT instructor, 
used to take us swimming in the stream running across Avenue Road 
just below the Belt Line — great treat. 

There were uncomfortable dancing classes for the boarders, into 
which day boys were dragooned. Many boys left to go to boarding 
school after finishing the Prep. Games were compulsory; there were 
not extra-curricular activities that I can remember. 

All boys wore boots (no oxfords), suits (no blazers). Caps or toques 
were mandatory. Chestnuts and alleys were popular games. Licorice 



whips were the favourite candy at the Tuck Shop. There was no con- 
tact whatever with the Upper School. 

The caps and toques were not mandatory simply for the Prep. In 
1932 the executive committee of the board approved the rule that all 
Upper School first-formers must wear them and asked the principal to 
consider extending the rule to boys in the upper forms. 

W. M. Sanson, who boarded at the Prep in 1927, remembered the 
same dancing classes that Graham did, adding to the picture a yearly 
dance with BSS girls and a nervous breakdown for Miss Sternberg. He 
also remembered hi-jinks after lights out. As a result, "Mr. Elliott 
brought a table in, sat down, turned on the lights, and marked papers. 
Every two hours throughout the whole long night, he woke up every 
single boy." 

In a recent interview John Black Aird searched back forty-five years 
to his Prep days: 

I think that the masters, particularly in Prep school, were extremely 
strong characters for whatever reasons. I can see Hollingshead vividly, 
and I can see Sam Harris, and Earl Elliott and Gibby Gibson, and I 
certainly see Steve. I have trouble physically remembering the Duke, 
although I remember being interviewed by him. But I have very vivid 
physical memories — I remember Bonnycastle, largely because he had 
a picture of Jean Harlow (I think it was her) or Carole Lombard in his 
room, which made a tremendous impact on me at age ten or eleven. I 
remember a man called Jones. He was a tremendous cricketer. 

I remember Steve vividly because I think in any setting he would 
have been a very distinctive man. He was an extremely interesting 
teacher — he introduced to me certainly the first idea of time and his- 
tory and the events in history. He even did charts — the first chart I 
ever saw I think was introduced by Steve. He was an innovator, and I 
think he was physically an extremely energetic man. I remember 
being caned by him, which I think was a rarity, but the reason was a 
good one. He came into the sixth form one day, went to open the door, 
and we'd taken all the hinges off. He just went right straight through 



and went flat on his face coming into the room. It was a hysterical 
moment, and I think that he indulged himself by the caning. 

I remember all the masters being so supportive of every endeavour 
of the school. I remember the football games — them standing on the 
sidelines — and I remember them at every cold rink, together with a 
very strong group of parents who were around at that time. 

There was a group of parents who came to everything and came in 
the dressing room. It wasn't an isolated sort of professional thing — it 
was very much father-son, mother-son ... it was a small community. 
And very physically oriented. These were virile people — I think if I 
were to make the comparison, certainly my recollection is not that 
scholarship came second, but it didn't seem to me that they were 
much interested in whether or not you stood first or twentieth in the 
class. Scholarship was whether or not you could make the tackle at the 
right time. 

Scholastically, I don't know if any of the masters inspired me. But 
enthusiasm for the cause and interest in the individual students — these 
are things I remember. I think I must have learned something about 
the discipline of mathematics from Sam Harris — I think I must have. 
I think that Gibby was pretty good at Latin. I don't know why, but I 
must say I enjoyed Latin. But you have to remember that in those 
days, if you weren't good, you got swatted. But as to intellectual stimu- 
lation, I would be surprised if there was any. 

Although, as Graham said, some boys left the Prep to enter country 
boarding-schools, most went on to the Upper School. In 1920 they 
would have undergone an ingenious initiation. Not many of the Old 
Boys seem to remember this, but it was described in loving detail in The 
College Times. It had evidently fallen into disuse during the war years, 
but peace brought a new burst of energy and inventiveness. 

All the new boys were requested to attend an informal party on the 
oval (rsvp old clothes). 

The bell for execution rang at 3.15 and the new boys hurried up to 
their rooms, from which they issued clad in their best (?) clothes. Most 
of them were attired in brilliant creations, outworn socks, soleless run- 
ning shoes, discarded pants and glaring sweaters dating from 1897 or 



earlier. When they reached the oval they found the other guests (the 
old boys) waiting for them. Most of the prospective victims were 
observed to be shivering, probably from cold. 

About half the new boys were detached and crammed into a num- 
ber of day boys' cars which were parked on the drive. They were taken 
down to various street corners down town and there given ample 
opportunity to prove their ability as match sellers, bootblacks, fish 
peddlers, "shimmy" artists, etc. etc. The police were tolerant. The old 
boys in the cars had an instructive and amusing afternoon. The new 
boys had the former but not the latter. 

Meanwhile the massacre on the oval was proceeding. The stew- 
ards introduced the new boys to their friends, who blindfolded them 
and put them through a prolonged course in original athletics. 
Instruction in classical dancing, blind-folded gymnastics, cadet drill, 
"walking the ladder," follow the leader, tumbling and many other 
amusing games was given free. Mr. Cochrane kindly lent some pairs of 
boxing gloves, and a number of bouts, more notable for the enthusi- 
asm with which the fighters hit everybody and everything within 
range, than for science, were held. After an hour and a half the new 
boys were all feeling a little fatigued. Their friends, however, were still 
lively, and organized a special "cheeky new boys' squad," the mem- 
bers of which spent an exciting quarter of an hour. The ceremony of 
running the gauntlet was omitted owing to the dampness of the 
ground. The new boys showed intense grief on learning this. As this 
year's party was such a success, it is expected that it will be repeated in 
an even more complete manner. 

C. H. Little, who boarded at the Upper School from 1922 to 1926, 
recalled his arrival at UCC and his introduction to fagging: 

We all have major junctures in our lives: my first was working for and 
winning an Entrance Scholarship to UCC. . . . Being a new boy, I had 
to be initiated and serve as a senior's fag — in my case Tubby Sparling. 
Initiation was not only running the gauntlet on the oval and being 
whacked with any wooden cudgel available, but a continuing series of 
duties and reminders of one's lowly station. The day started . . . when- 
ever the fagmaster directed, by closing windows, bringing hot water, 



tidying the room, shining shoes, etc. . . . My very first purchase that 
September was an alarm clock with an outsize bell. Failure to do any- 
thing satisfactorily resulted in all manner of humiliations but it was 
wonderful training and sharpened my wits no end. 

There were other duties for new day boys in the Upper School. 
Howard remembered when he moved up from the Prep in 1932: 

In those days the new boys were really pushed around, or we thought 
they were. It turned out, of course, not to be bad at all. They had no 
showers, and you had to go down to the first team and fill their tubs 
with water because that was the only shower there was. 

They sat in the tub, and then the strong ones lifted the tub up and 
poured the water over their heads, which looked to me like a superhu- 
man feat, but of course they were all superhuman guys. You were a 
recruit in the Rifle Corps. I think that was the first or second year of 
the blue uniform. I remember half of the first year I was just mostly 
scared, and I'm not sure I know what I was scared of. 

John Graham reminisced about other facets of his years at the Col- 

At the Upper School in 1925, the "SM" Carpenter was the strongest 
influence. It was wholly good; we learned we had a dual re- 
sponsibility — to someone and for someone. McHugh had a fine way 
with boys. But virtually all the teaching was competent — Mills, Mow- 
bray, Classey. 

A sort of Toonerville trolley ran down Avenue Road to Dupont. 
The big boys used to jump up and down on the back platform and the 
car would often come off the track. 

Boarders were really a part of the school and it was hard to get the 
flavor of ucc unless you boarded. Leave was Saturday and Sunday 
afternoons with one out weekend a month — Saturday noon to Sunday 

For me, UCC consists of a community of interest and recollection. I 
learned a sense of propriety, of dress and behaviour. I acquired a love 
of language and Latin. I never had Canadian history in ten years. 



Graham's memories about Canadian history may be accurate, in 
spite of Grant's interest in the subject, but some attempts to change the 
situation were mentioned in the 1922 summer College Times: 

History is taught in rather a peculiar manner in Canadian schools. 
From the time one enters in the lowest forms till one trys final exami- 
nations, one studies nothing in this subject except what the ancient 
Greeks and Romans did, accounts of petty riots and tales of endless 
mutinies and conflicts. . . . Even the youngsters in the lower schools, 
can wax eloquent concerning the battle of Hastings and how Alfred 
burnt the cakes, but there are very few indeed who know the history of 
the Great War. Why should the present generation study entirely 
about things of long ago when they have lived through the greatest 
struggle this universe has ever known. Not one of ten knows the story 
of the brilliant stand our Canadians made at Vimy Ridge or realize 

what an important decade the last one has been 

As usual Upper Canada College has proved a leader and she is 
now beginning to teach her pupils of present industrial conditions, the 
duty of the citizens in the future and lastly but not least of that univer- 
sal conflict, the Great War. 

Graham and Little both remember that in the twenties smoking was 
considered a very serious offence. Little was caught once and almost 
expelled. There were a number of fire scares, and cigarettes were con- 
sidered a real hazard. In 1926 the executive committee of the board 
spent a long time on the question of smoking and how to enforce the 

The driving force at the College during these years was undoubtedly 
the principal. Yet despite his obvious greatness, Grant's powerful 
impact is remembered by only some of his students. Little wrote that 
Grant "was like a father to me. He urged me to come back for a fourth 
year and write for a . . . scholarship." Between the two of them they 
chose German. Little and de Marbois worked together in 1925-26, and 
Little thinks he may have been the first person in the province to gradu- 
ate with German Senior Matric. The direction of his life — teaching for- 
eign languages and serving in naval intelligence — was shaped by 



Grant's special interest in him. T. Graeme Gibson, on the other hand, 
had "no vivid personal recollections of the principal, nor can I recall 
any impact which he as a person had upon my education and develop- 
ment . . . his philosphies and aims . . . have vanished in memory." 

Although he was no academic, the second most influential master of 
the period was undoubtedly Frederick N. Carpenter, the SM. Old Boy 
after Old Boy, no matter whom else he remembers or forgets, mentions 
Carpenter. J. G. Crean wrote: 

But finally and above all, there is the influence of the Sergeant Major. 
He understood the meaning of fair play and discipline but further he 
used the Rifle Company, as it then was, to instill not only a love of 
your own country, but a realization that you owed something to it, 
and if called upon, must be prepared to sacrifice for it. But even more, 
he used it to help to instill a sense of discipline and respect for author- 
ity and your fellow school mates. 

Little called him 

one of our greatest personalities. While nominally in charge of mili- 
tary drill, he joined heart and soul in every physical activity, played 
cricket and soccer with us, showed us how to play hockey and football, 
whistled us in and out of the tank and the boxing ring, even descended 
to checkers or tennis if necessary. A grand man. 

In addition to his other duties, Carpenter was in charge of PD, or 
punishment drill. These were handed out by masters for any number of 
sins and were supervised by the SM — clearing snow, marking the oval 
for a game, rolling the cricket pitch, or simply walking around in a cir- 
cle for an hour. 

One of the most colourful of Grant's colleagues was Miss Mary 
Tucker, who taught physics. She was remembered by F. H. Howard: 

She lived over on Duggan Avenue somewhere and was always bum- 
ming broken hockey sticks so she could hold herself up crossing the ice 
until she walked across the oval. She had a twangy voice and she 



appeared to be rough and crude, but she wasn't, of course. And she'd 
walk in and if there was any noise at all she'd say, "Well, sit down and 
shut up," and then she'd read off roll call. And she was very careful 
about the way you kept your physics notebook. She was very systemat- 
ic: she'd say "Purpose," and that meant you were going to do an 
experiment. She certainly knew physics, and if you did well in your 
physics exam she gave you an orange, and if you did well in matric she 
knitted you a scarf or a pair of socks. She had an awful lot of friends 
among the boys, but she tried to be tough; she didn't put up with any 
nonsense. Now, God only knows what she did for companionship 
among the rest of the staff. 

Mary Tucker gave socks for athletic prowess as well, for example, 
the first boy in her form to finish the cross country or steeplechase 
received a pair. Not only was she a legend in her own time at UCC, she 
carried on in the same spirit after her retirement. 

The music department had its share of interesting, able, and eccen- 
tric characters. Although it did not play as large a part in College life as 
Grant (or later MacDermot) would have liked, and although it cer- 
tainly played second fiddle to athletics, music had its moments and 
influenced some boys for life. Godfrey Ridout, who was at UCC from 
1932 to 1936, wrote: 

When I first came to the College from Lakefield my mother made me 
take piano from Dick Tattersall, whereas I wanted to "take" from 
Mazz [Mazzoleni]. Mother was charmed with Mazz (few were the 
females who were not) but the fact remained that Dick and Kitty Tat- 
tersall (she had taught me when I was very little) were family friends 
and loyalties were loyalties so to "Tatterballs" I went. It was a disas- 
ter. In class I was very much Dick's favourite, I suppose because I gen- 
uinely enjoyed him and strove to please him. But I was his bete noir in 
private lessons. It was soon obvious that I was ambi-sinistrous and no 
teaching however skillful could get me to play the piano. Dick also 
had no use for adolescent musical opinion (I think one of the causes of 
his general lack of success as a schoolmaster) and he was the master of 
the put-down. I do not think he looked forward to my lessons any 



more than I did, but he had one advantage. Somehow between the 
Prep, where evidently he taught on those afternoons, and the Music 
Room of the College (brand new in that year of Our Lord 1932) he 
amply fortified himself and would come floating into the room within 
a noisome alcoholic cloud. Well, I triumphed. Dick told mother I was 
a hopeless case and the sooner I stopped the lessons the better. Then I 
went to Mazz. That was much better. Mazz never put me down for 
expressing my jejune opinions (that came later) and he nursed me into 
a piano technique which, though far from being good, was better than 
it ever had been or has been since. But they were more than piano 
lessons — they were music lessons. Soon he was teaching me rudiments 
and harmony (the only lessons I ever did have in these areas because 
he unconsciously taught me to teach myself), score reading, conduct- 
ing and, best of all, he tolerantly guided me through my early 
attempts at composition. Those so-called half hour sessions often 
extended from 3.15 until dinner time. Mazz remained a friend to the 
end of his life. He often conducted my works and was largely responsi- 
ble for my, albeit limited, reputation. 

Howard added a footnote on Dick Tattersall: "One day Tattersall 
sat down to play the hymn in the morning and the piano bench broke. 
I'm not sure somebody hadn't sawed it half through, but there was a 
great deal of hilarity over it." 

Godfrey Ridout recalled another colourful master, this time in the 
English department: 

I idolized Mr. Blunt who encouraged our quite immature literary 
efforts. He was also my Housemaster (Martland's) and so I could get 
out of sports without too much effort. . . . Mr. Blunt, returning essays: 
"H — , malapropisms, malapropisms, malapropisms!" "Sir, what's a 
malapropism?" "Two charladies at a church social — one said to the 
other, 'See that venereal old gentleman urinating on the platform? 
He's our new rectum. Have you been seduced?' Those, my boy, are 
malapropisms." Or Blunt, again, with the heel of his good leg resting 
dangerously on the two-inch ledge between the back of his desk and 
the edge of the dais and his wooden leg swinging free in admirable 
style, saying, "The Mark Anthony in Julius Caesar, righteous and stuf- 



fy, is a far different Mark Anthony from the one in Anthony and 
Cleopatra where he comes bounding on the stage oozing sex-appeal at 
every pore." 

Ridout went on: 

You ask what the College meant to me and I must answer, everything. 
Dad was delighted when I said it [was] just like a club. I was a dread- 
ful student generally. My marks were just sufficient to get me through. 
I only scored two academic triumphs. Dad, one night, said in a care- 
less moment that he would give me five dollars if I came first. A busi- 
ness acquaintance of his who was present said he would match it and 
an elderly maternal aunt chimed in that she, too, would match it. The 
prospect of fifteen dollars, untold wealth in the 1930s (it was my 
brother-in-law's weekly income), spurred me to dazzling heights and 
when the report came home that June there I was tied for first. It was 
like the milk horse winning the Derby. The other was when Mr. Igna- 
tieff offered a class prize of hard cash for the best constitutional history 
of Canada from the Quebec to the B.N.A. Acts. What I did with the 
money was to buy gramophone records. You see, the College, or more 
specifically, Messrs. Tattersall and Mazzoleni had seduced me into the 
world of music — mind you, I was not an unwilling seductee. 

There was a certain aura to the College of the twenties and 
thirties — or was it just in the minds of the students who went there at 
the time? It was certainly a lively place, despite — or perhaps because 
of — the early geographical isolation. At least twenty clubs were started 
in Grant's time. Helped along by the colourful masters, they were as 
much a part of College life as the games, especially for the boarders or 
the non-athletes. Besides the Curfew Club, the organizations included 
Classey's French (and Spanish) Babel Club, and a Junior French Club; 
chess, science, stamps, art, anthropology, navigation, arts and letters, 
biology, League of Nations, religious discussion, Chinese, junior current 
events, graphic arts, recorder, Little Theatre, New Canadians — the list 
went on and on. Some, to be sure, were short-lived, but the essential 



thing was the spirit that lived underneath it all. Perhaps T. Graeme 
Gibson sums up the boys' feelings best: 

Those of us who were nurtured in the comfortable world of UCC under 
"Choppy" Grant were to eventually find ourselves afloat on the 
threatening seas of the nuclear age. The fact that most of us seemed to 
have been able to take these momentous changes in our stride, would 
indicate perhaps that our education foundation was a sound one. 
The academic program taught me a lasting respect for the English 
language. . . . The SM sowed the seeds of my 37 year military career. . . . 
UCC was a pretty good place to face up to the vicissitudes of life. . . . 
The masters . . . were a stimulating parcel of individuals. . . . Life was 
less complex. . . . We were more concerned with facing up to the world 
than in changing it. 



Unsettled Years 

1 935 -i 948 

GRANT'S death left the College leaderless in the middle of the 
school year. None of the talented group of masters was perceived 
as having the necessary administrative ability to become either 
temporary or permanent principal; consequently William Mowbray, 
the retired vice-principal, returned to smooth the way for Grant's suc- 

A governors' committee 1 speedily selected Terence W. L. MacDer- 
mot, age thirty-six. The son of a missionary, MacDermot had been born 
in Jamaica and educated at McGill. After service in the war, which 
made a deep and lasting impression on him, he had gone to Oxford on 
a Rhodes Scholarship and taken a degree in history. He had then 
taught at Hotchkiss School in Connecticut and at Lower Canada Col- 
lege in Montreal. Since 1929 he had been in the history department at 
McGill. When appointed principal he was national secretary of the 
League of Nations Society in Canada. MacDermot had also published 
numerous articles on education and economics. 

Terry MacDermot was one of those men whose many accomplish- 
ments blinded the governors to a powerful side of his nature that made 
him something of a paradox at Upper Canada College. His academic 
qualifications were impeccable, and he was known as an excellent 
English and history teacher, questioning and provocative. His mind was 
sophisticated, keenly intellectual, creative; personally he was sensitive 
and charming. He spoke fluent French, and had a great musical talent 
and wide interests. In educational philosophy he was a perfect successor 
to Grant. On the other hand, his family background, war experiences, 



teaching career, and personal characteristics had helped to shape him 
into the kind of man whom many considered somewhat ill-suited to the 
principalship of a school like Upper Canada College. The son of an 
army padre with very little money, he found the affluence of UCC and 
the other independent schools hard to stomach. His terrible war experi- 
ences made him grieve at the state of the world and brought him into 
contact with kindred souls such as Frank Scott. His sympathies lay with 
the left-wing: socialists, conscientious objectors, pacifists, those antagon- 
istic to the British imperial influence. He was a Canadian nationalist 
before his time. He had left Lower Canada College because it was too 
much like a British public school transferred across the Atlantic — an 
atmosphere in which he was not at ease, although, paradoxically, he 
was at ease in Westmount circles. Added to all this were his personal 
characteristics. He was inclined to be absentminded, late, forgetful. At 
parties he liked to shake people up, mixing different sorts together. 
Nobody felt lukewarm about him; they either worshipped him or 
abhorred his ideas. 

Congratulations poured in to MacDermot from friends who felt that 
the headship of UCC was an important educational post, unique in 
Canada. 2 After his first meeting with the executive committee, however, 
MacDermot expressed views which did not change, though they 
remained camouflaged during his seven years at the College. Except for 
Laidlaw, MacDermot was unimpressed with the group, one of whom 
was "oppressively traditional" and talked of nothing but sport, "which 
was all that could be expected of him." 5 MacDermot was less than 
enthusiastic about his new position as principal, but the challenge 
attracted him, as did the salary — $7,500 plus the usual perquisites. He 
spent May and June at the College learning the ropes and took over in 
September 1935. 

MacDermot's first year was symbolic of his career at UCC — many 
inspirational developments mixed with flawed and difficult human 
relationships. During his first term a model election was conducted by 
the Upper School student body. Not surprisingly, the Conservatives 
polled 267 out of 372 ballots cast. MacDermot's experiment was 
intended to train the boys to appreciate the values and procedures 



inherent in the democratic process, and was in the tradition of his pred- 
ecessor. Another innovation was the Palmer Printing Room containing 
printing equipment presented by two Old Boys. There, under Harry 
Kay, a printing group began producing school calendars, prize lists, 
and the programs for school events. It is still doing so forty years later. 
Another undertaking of great significance was the introduction of edu- 
cational trips during the holidays to Timmins, Noranda, Kirkland 
Lake for visits to mines; to Iroquois Falls, "the paper centre of Cana- 
da"; to the Peace River country. These excursions were close to Mac- 
Dermot's heart; they were the first attempts made by the College in 
over a century to emphasize to the boys the resources, the vastness, and 
the beauty of their own country. The masters most responsible were 
Jock de Marbois, Nicholas Ignatieff, and Geoffrey Andrew; only 
Andrew was a native Canadian. In the same connection J. H. Biggar 
began Visites Interprovinciales. Biggar had been embarrassed when in 
Europe to discover that educated people were expected to know at least 
one foreign language. In April 1936 MacDermot gave him an introduc- 
tion to the head of university extension at McGill, and through him 
Biggar met his first French Canadian. That summer a pupil of Biggar's 4 
spent two months in French Canada. Visites was born, and the College 
helped to nurture the infant into full adulthood. MacDermot himself 
helped to launch, after much preliminary work by Grant, the Canadian 
Headmasters' Association, a loosely organized group of independent 
school headmasters who meet annually. 

MacDermot had a deep interest in art, which he tried hard to share 
with the boys. In his first term, contemporary Canadian paintings and 
sculpture were on monthly loan to the College. A modernistic tin-on- 
marble sculpture entitled "Reef and Rainbow" by Elizabeth Wyn 
Wood was exhibited in the front hall, and the sixth form was invited to 
express their feelings about it; they did at great length, and much of the 
material was published in The College Times. MacDermot's interest did 
not die as the years passed. The 1939 leaving class was persuaded to 
give a leaving present to the College — in this case an A. Y. Jackson 
painting. The students did not much care for the idea, mostly because it 
was new, but MacDermot persisted. 5 Forty-odd years later, an annual 



gift is still presented. The College now has a beautiful collection of mod- 
ern Canadian art and other useful and valuable gifts as well. 

MacDermot was extremely anxious to work with Stephen at the 
Prep in the task of co-ordinating the staffs of the two schools so that 
Prep boys could follow an integrated course of study from the youngest 
forms to the sixth form at the Upper School. For the first time, the two 
parts of the College were being run by forward-looking men, keen on 
experiment, and MacDermot was able to say that both parts of the 
body were working as a single unit. 

At the end of his first year MacDermot expressed two aims: to 
gather a good staff and to "instil and nourish in our boys a little ideal- 
ism, altruism, unselfishness . . . [and to reduce] the core of complacent 
selfishness that [is] obnoxious now and dangerous later on." 6 So, in the 
arena of ideas, MacDermot very early proved himself a worthy succes- 
sor to Grant. 

MacDermot inherited the exotic collection of masters gathered 
together by Grant. It was in making quick, firm judgments on some of 
these staff colleagues that MacDermot's difficulties with the College 
community began. Instead of moving slowly and tactfully, he fired one 
master outright (followed immediately by a resignation) and alienated 
one or two more. His special targets were men who happened to have 
been at the school for some time, and who had gathered a loyal follow- 
ing. The reverberations of his actions did not die down right away and 
coloured MacDermot's future association with those Old Boys and par- 
ents who were inclined never to rock the boat or change anything. Any 
principal has the right to say who should or who should not be teaching 
in a school. In the closely knit 1936 community of the College, however, 
that right had to be exercised with caution; groundwork had to be laid. 
MacDermot may indeed have done his best to do this, but much bitter- 
ness was left behind. 

Another early target was the cadet battalion, which had been 
brought by Carpenter to a very high state of efficiency and was playing 
a huge role in the life of the school. One man who knew Carpenter well 
thought he wanted to turn UCC into a military institute. MacDermot 
and Carpenter crossed swords very early and worked uncomfortably 



together for three years before Carpenter retired. MacDermot wanted 
to separate physical education from military drill, and from the begin- 
ning he sought a replacement for the SM. 

Under MacDermot the faculty stayed fairly stable. Doggie Mills 
and Mary Tucker retired just before he arrived. They were replaced by 
the much loved Ralph M. Law, Dr. J. W. McCubbin, and James Wor- 
rall. Law was forty-six and had taught classics at Weston. He became a 
College landmark both as housemaster of Seaton's and later as the 
librarian. McCubbin was a first-class biology teacher; Worrall was a 
fine physics master, who ran for Canada in the 1936 Olympic Games. 

In 1936 MacDermot added B. C. Taylor, who thirty years later was 
organizing student trips to Europe, and E. A. McCourt, a Rhodes 
Scholar from Alberta, who became a professor of English at the Univer- 
sity of Saskatchewan and a well-known Canadian author. A little later 
came the much-admired Norman Sharp to carry on the College tradi- 
tion of first-class mathematics teaching. He coached the first hockey 
team for thirteen years and became president of the Toronto Hockey 
League. In addition, MacDermot followed Grant's lead in going to 
great trouble to bring to Canada a variety of men who were not in his 
view available in Canada. One was Arnold Walter, a brilliant musician 
highly recommended by Massey. Walter, born in Austria, was a Czech 
citizen in difficulties with that government because he was a pacifist. 
MacDermot worked hard with the authorities to get Walter into the 
country and onto the College staff. 7 The Canadian Opera Company is 
a monument to his efforts; Walter became director of the u of T music 
faculty and was awarded the Order of Canada. Other additions were 
Robin Strachan from Cambridge and I. K. Shearer; the latter helped 
in 1956 to start a school in Switzerland for Canadian grade-thirteen 
students. In 1939 Dr. W. G. Bassett joined the staff. He stayed until 
1973, serving as acting-principal in 1948 and 1949 and then as vice- 
principal under Dr. Sowby. 8 

In late 1936 a move was begun to build a proper gymnasium and 
pool, something the College had wanted for thirty years. The old pool- 
gym had disappeared in the 1932 renovation, and money had not been 
available to replace it. When the new facility finally opened in January 



1938, the cost was $90,000, of which less than half had been donated. 
College funds had been expected to contribute $20,000 but eventually 
had to produce $49,000. Once again the College community had failed 
to produce the wherewithal for bricks and mortar. Once again physical 
facilities had taken priority over the needs of the masters. 9 

On a personal level, MacDermot had a dual impact. He was a hard 
worker, making appointments as early as seven in the morning. He 
played the piano endlessly at staff Christmas parties, and was greatly 
revered by some of his colleagues who thought as he did. But there was 
a reverse side to the coin. He was a poor administrator who drove the 
board mad by lateness and forgetfulness. His communications with par- 
ents were poor. He liked to poke fun at things, and the Old Boys could 
never make out whether he was laughing at them or with them. Mas- 
ters who idolized him were balanced by some who did not. The boys 
could never quite understand him. (On one occasion there was an abor- 
tive stewards' and officers' revolt because MacDermot had vetoed an 
invitation by the Queen's Own Rifles to a dinner.) In a school where a 
vocal Old Boy group was obsessed by the importance of games, he pre- 
sented a puzzling face: he was not hostile to games, he simply was not at 
home with the "rah-rah" stuff and wanted a balance. An intellectual 
with a hundred interests, he fitted badly into what was often an atmo- 
sphere of non-intellectual conservatism. John Black Aird summed it up 

Terry MacDermot was marching to a different drummer than most of 
the people there, as I think Steve was at the prep. He was a very gen- 
tle, quiet man, who introduced the idea of a little group of five or six 
coming to his house on Sundays. . . . Probably he chose them. He 
talked about the world, and we didn't know much about the world. So 
I guess there was a sparking there of curiosity. ... If he was left wing 
the student body didn't know it. 

The outbreak of the Second World War saw the College lose some 
of its best men — de Marbois, Ignatieff, Little, for example — though the 
majority were unable to join the forces and carried on at the school. An 



enormous number of war refugees were welcomed to the College; in 
May 1 94 1 there were ninety-seven. A war chest was begun to send par- 
cels to Old Boys and to help finance the sons of Old Boys killed or inca- 
pacitated in the conflict. 

In November 1941 the Ministry of War Services asked if it could 
borrow MacDermot for three or four days a week to organize and direct 
a proposed speakers' branch of the Division of Public Information. This 
impractical proposal was countered by the offer of MacDermot for 
three straight months. As a result MacDermot left the College for the 
first three months of 1942; Lome M. McKenzie, the head of mathemat- 
ics, was appointed acting-principal. As March was running out, 
another request for MacDermot's services was made but strongly 
resisted by the board, who were concerned by the weakened mathemat- 
ics department, by the large influx of non-paying guests from Britain, 
and by the prospect of an enfeebled College war effort. In the end the 
greater duty overcame the lesser. In June MacDermot resigned. 

Before leaving Upper Canada, MacDermot wrote a pamphlet enti- 
tled "Upper Canada College at War," which praised the contribution 
of the Old Boys, the student body, and the staff, during the first dark 
years of the struggle. They had faced the test and met it "promptly, 
generously, and with honour." 10 He pointed to the war chest, students 
working in farms and factories, a salvage committee, special military 
classes, the English evacuees, the nine masters on active service — in fact 
all the College was doing to share the burden. He did not neglect the 
continuation of the educational essentials — hard work, high standards, 
games for everybody — which the College had not forgotten during the 
months and years of the emergency. 

An assessment of Upper Canada College in the MacDermot years is 
far more difficult than for any other period up to 1935. The key lies in 
the MacDermot personality, which came into abrasive contact with the 
College collectivity. By and large he found the College community pet- 
ty. He was not a man to suffer fools gladly, and judging by his diary," 
there were many fools among parents, Old Boys, and governors. He 
wrote of parents wanting their sons "to be given opportunities which 
they have not earned — a common enough commercial objective." After 



an argument with a father about the cadets he said, "the Battalion ... is 
clearly one of the social and business aids which gives this school its jus- 
tification in the eyes of the privileged class which uses it. . . . The College 
is to most of its customers a deluxe shop where they buy more of the 
exclusiveness that money gives alone, or where they buy what they 
haven't got of that." Of an Old Boy expressing a desire for that holy 
grail — victory over Ridley: "[It] should not be a concern of Old Boys at 
all." After a controversy about Old Boys being denied the use of the 
new pool he summed up his feelings: "What a cheap vulgar uncouth lot 
they are. I wish more and more I could get a job in which I was work- 
ing with and for a slightly higher level of a community. These commer- 
cially bastardized clothes-horses are tiresome." Some of his most 
pungent comments were about the governors, whom he found pleasant 
enough but without any real understanding of what education is all 
about. "The school . . . is . . . measured by the criteria of their lives not of 
the school life." They are "seriously concerned about lack of coaching 
especially in hockey . . . [and] would sooner have all the masters doing 
this or able to do it than anything. A profound respect for the impor- 
tance of athletics ... is at the root of all our troubles." He felt that the 
governors' real criteria were the appearance of the grounds, the teams, 
and the name of the College; teaching was a secondary job. The worst 
of this attitude was that the masters had a feeling that "cheeseparing at 
their expense is always going on." MacDermot despaired, "How can we 
expect any . . . response to high or aristocratic principles of education? 
. . . here in the College we have . . . the hard acquisitiveness that marks 
the owning class, and in the treatment of employees a disinclination to 
charge for services rendered and a willingness to take all that can be 
squeezed (without extra pay) out of masters and others. It is a brutaliz- 
ing spectacle and one wants to turn one's back on the whole thing. . . ." 
MacDermot's views of the boys do not come through often, but judging 
by the College's war effort, they were somewhat flawed: "no resistance 
to emergencies, selfish and utterly individualistic. It is inherent in this 
group of society. Its young members have no experience whatever of 
any difficulties to overcome and so their capacity to overcome them is 
very low." 



MacDermot was a brilliant man with quixotic attitudes, obviously 
torn between his educational ideals and the fact that he was trying to 
work them out in an environment dominated by big business, imperial- 
ism, and conservatism — against each of which he instinctively rebelled. 
The educational ideals would have been applauded by Grant, by 
Auden, by Parkin; his views on England — "governed by an ancient 
regime dominated by narrow capitalism ... or imperial concepts" — 
they would have abhorred. MacDermot wanted to stir up "the boys to 
an awareness of their own country and continent. . . . They acquiesce 
poor devils in cricket, in Empire, in good form: in all the scaly frag- 
ments of an obsolete Victorianism." In the Toronto of the thirties he 
was fifty years ahead of his time. Lonely and self-contained, he said 
good-bye to the school without knowing whether or not he had done a 
good job. 12 

MacDermot gave the board his views on the masters who might 
replace him; he found them all wanting in various degrees. Applica- 
tions were sent in from men who had heard of the vacancy, but none 
was very impressive. The governors accepted Lome McKenzie as act- 
ing-principal while they considered what to do. 

McKenzie, forty-four, had been at the school since 1929. In 1933 he 
had taken over as head of the mathematics department, becoming well 
known throughout the province. He was a shy, unassuming man with a 
passion for his discipline and a desire to be left alone to teach it. Neither 
he nor the governors were sure that he was the right choice. At the end 
of his first year, however, the chairman of the board, Graeme Watson, 
sounded people out about the possibility of making McKenzie's 
appointment permanent. Vincent Massey thought it was a difficult 
question and wrote: "I very much doubt whether he is equipped to 
carry on the educational tradition established by W. L. [Grant] and 
pretty well maintained by Terry MacDermot. I feel it is vital to UCC 
that it should remain a pioneer in education and that its standards 
should be uncompromisingly high."' 3 Some of the board wanted to wait 
until after the war and get a young, highly qualified Canadian educa- 
tionist, but the temptation to confirm McKenzie was too great. Nobody 
knew how long the war would last and current alternatives were 



meagre. McKenzie had a huge reputation as a mathematician, he was 
well known, and he knew the system; he was thoroughly Canadian. In 
July 1943 he was confirmed as principal at a salary of $7,500. 

McKenzie's five and a half years as principal superficially resemble 
the MacDermot years. Though the two men were tempermentally poles 
apart, in both cases the board failed to recognize strong idiosyncrasies 
which made the appointees less than suitable for the challenging tasks 
facing them. In both cases excellent foresighted moves were made; in 
both cases personality clashes made life very difficult for many members 
of the College community. 

McKenzie had a warm, engaging side which attracted to the Col- 
lege some truly outstanding men, many of whom stayed a long time and 
had a lasting influence. E. M. (Ted) Davidson, a creative teacher and 
fine administrator, spent twenty years teaching classics and coaching a 
variety of teams, while at the same time becoming chairman of the 
Toronto Board of Education. He resigned in 1962 to become registrar of 
the University of Toronto. Miss Yulia Biriukova took over the art pro- 
gram from H. G. Kettle and continued Kettle's traditions for another 
twenty-one years. There followed Gerald Grant to teach science and 
Jay MacDonald to teach English and run the Little Theatre with an 
efficiency and elan bordering on genius for thirty years. Kenneth Gallo- 
way arrived in 1945 to teach a variety of subjects for twenty years. The 
next year three men came who were to stay a total of over ninety years 
and leave an indelible imprint on the school. The versatile J. L. Coul- 
ton taught physics, took over that department, and became vice-princi- 
pal and eventually bursar; Wilfrid Gallimore ran the English 
department for thirty years; and Frank Brennan taught mathematics 
and coached a huge variety of football and hockey teams before retiring 
in 1978. McKenzie did not forget music. David Ouchterlony taught for 
three years; he was replaced by John Linn, who stayed until 1972. A 
notable teacher of mathematics was E. S. Jarvis, who also coached the 
football team; after leaving UCC he eventaully became headmaster of 
Bishop Strachan School. A very valuable non-academic appointment in 
1948 was that of John Weeks, who worked hard and served loyally first 



as building superintendent and then as treasurer until his retirement in 

As the war drew to a close the question of salaries for these men and 
their colleagues became pressing. The gaps between Upper School and 
high-school salaries ranged between four hundred dollars and seven 
hundred and fifty dollars, with lesser differences at the Prep level. The 
masters asked the governors whether, in view of the recent increases in 
the Toronto high schools' salaries, it might not be a suitable time to 
take similar action. The response was essentially negative; the gover- 
nors said that the College had operated at a financial loss for several 
years and would not be able to match the Toronto scale. During 
McKenzie's time the average Upper School salary, though never catch- 
ing up to the city scale, rose by seven hundred dollars. This was made 
possible partially by the first concerted action on fees since the mid 
twenties. Between 1945 and 1948, day-boy fees rose 54 per cent to $385 
annually and boarder fees to $1,050. A new era had begun. The pub- 
lic-school teachers were starting to flex their muscles, which had 
remained relatively flaccid during the twenties and thirties. Without 
that competition from the outside, the College fees had slumbered on, 
affording a tremendous bargain for parents. The board was timid and 
dubious about the 1945 fee raise. The other boarding-schools, not the 
city schools, were seen as the true competitors, and fear was expressed 
that too great a surplus would lead to investigation and unwanted 
action by the tax authorities. One curious result of the 1945 fee discus- 
sions was the decision, not reversed for fifteen years, to differentiate 
between Upper School and Prep fees, on the assumption that it was 
cheaper to educate the younger boys. In a sense this was true; the Prep 
masters were paid less. 

McKenzie instituted sensible changes in the organization and disci- 
pline of the school. The form organization was rationalized in 1944 to 
further allow individual progress; fagging, which was being abused, was 
abolished; and the make-up of the Board of Stewards was changed. 
Boys were no longer automatically stewards because they held certain 
offices: starting in the autumn of 1946, ten boys were chosen by the 
principal irrespective of the positions they held. This was motivated by 



the belief that there was too little intellectual leadership among the 

In McKenzie's third year there was a feeling among the governors 
that the buildings at both the Upper School and Prep were unsatisfac- 
tory. The feeling was probably sharpened by the imminent widening of 
Avenue Road, Lonsdale, and Oriole Parkway. The well-worn theme of 
moving was once again examined, with special reference to the York 
Mills property, which the College had held for twenty-five years. Be- 
fore any action could be taken, however, it was learned that a 
highway — 401 — was to be built through the middle of the property. 
The York Mills move was abandoned once and for all, and the property 
was sold for a sum which finally netted a little less than $170,000. The 
College's marriage to the City of Toronto seems final. 

With the war over and some fresh cash in hand, discussions began as 
to how the 123 Old Boys killed in the war might best be remembered. 
The decision was taken to start a memorial fund for a dual 
purpose — creating scholarships and erecting a memorial hall. This was 
to jut eastward at the south-east corner of the main building and be 
joined to it by an arcade. It was to replace the prayer hall, which was to 
be converted into classrooms, and also to serve for non-athletic activi- 
ties. Unfortunately the fund, to which almost fourteen hundred Old 
Boys and parents had contributed, was not enough to start building, 
and plans were shelved for two years. At almost the same time McKen- 
zie abruptly resigned. 

McKenzie was an impressive man, with plenty of moral courage 
and a well-organized mind; a colleague described him as the salt of the 
earth. To balance these virtues he had a difficult temper and little abil- 
ity to communicate. Above all was his massive inflexibility, resulting 
perhaps from some basic insecurity. Everything was black and white; 
there were no shades of grey. He tried to run the school the way he ran 
his classroom, and it all had to be done his way. In the autumn of 1947, 
for example, McKenzie decided not to give the school a holiday to cele- 
brate the marriage of Princess Elizabeth to the Duke of Edinburgh. 
Since all the other schools in the city had a holiday, about two hundred 
students, irked by being singled out in this way for no apparent reason, 



spontaneously left the school at morning recess muttering to themselves. 
Some of the more senior students calmed their nerves at the Casino, a 
sleazy strip-joint on Queen Street. McKenzie demanded apologies from 
all, under threat of expulsion. Many apologies were extended, but some 
boys refused and never returned. This somewhat comical walk-out need 
never have taken place, but once it had, a cool head was needed to 
restore harmony. McKenzie felt he had a role to maintain: right was 
right. It is fortunate that most boys gave in. (Not one to hold a grudge, 
however, McKenzie went out of his way to help one of the senior "strik- 
ers" pass his mathematics exam, never again so much as mentioning the 

McKenzie had resigned several times before, always over unimpor- 
tant issues; this time, in October 1948, the governors accepted. He 
called a masters' meeting, said that his views and those of the board did 
not coincide, and abruptly left. 14 Not for the first time the College had 
chosen a man to guide its destinies who would have been much better 
off left where he was at his best — in the classroom. When he returned to 
an Old Boys' Dinner many years later, he received a thunderous stand- 
ing ovation. 

Dr. W. G. Bassett, vice-principal since early 1947, was made act- 
ing-principal while the governors looked for McKenzie's replacement. 



School Life in the 
LateThirties and Forties 

7 ""he outbreak of war in September 1939 affected the home 
lives of many College students whose fathers were in the forces. Some 
spent years in a state of fearful suspense, and for some the agony was 
very real, but life at the College must have appeared untouched. Nicho- 
las Ignatieff, a former College teacher, wrote a letter to The College Times 
from a London under siege in September 1940. From his perspective 
the war had had little impact on the College, and he expressed his dis- 
appointment in strong terms. 

At first, on looking through The College Times I felt awfully 
pleased — like meeting an old friend from a far-off, peaceful and civi- 
lized world — he greeted one with the same old smile and the same old 
jokes and one felt one knew exactly what he was going to say 
next — which is very comforting when one meets an old friend one has 
not seen for a long time — it takes you back to good old times when the 
world was almost civilized. 

And then I thought of today and all that has been going on here 
and the world tomorrow and all of you standing on the threshold of 
tomorrow and I felt terribly depressed and sorry for you. Oh, no — not 
because life is going to be hard for you, or even that many of you may 
be dragged in to see the grimness of war — I felt sorry for you because 
every line and every page reminded me of what I had so often thought 
at College — you were all so terribly poorly equipped to take on the 
thrilling and magnificent opportunities of building a grand new world. 
You are all so wrapped up in your own little, comfortable, safe world 
that nothing else seems to matter or can matter. One could never 



dream that the Summer number was produced in midsummer of 
1940 — it might have been 1920, 19 10 or 1890 even. Are you too young 
to think of anything but banter at 16, 17 or 18? With equipment of 
polish, good humour and a little knowledge thrown in, can you hope 
to compete in a world which is filled with millions of young men who 
gravely and passionately believe in worlds they are determined to 
build or to smash? 

The people like you, with your equipment and your attitude of 
mind, thought they won a war and inherited a peaceful and plentiful 
world twenty-two years ago. They took nothing very seriously, they 
played games, attended business, dabbled with politics and talked a 
lot. Grim and determined scoundrels virtually wrecked the world 
under their noses before they woke up to realize it. There are few peo- 
ple in England today who will not admit that it was our smug compla- 
cency, as much as the iniquity of the dictators, that lost the peace for 
us. And here they are beginning to realize that it may be worth while 
to put every inch one has into a fight that is worth winning and into 
the building of a new world afterwards. 

If you could just see the guts these people are showing — I don't 
just mean the heroes of the RAF — but the mass of people and young 
kids, who have it on the chin day and night, and grin and bear it. I 
will never forget the small girl we unearthed from a pile of debris and 
who smiled grimly and said she wasn't hurt much; and the factory 
workers — men and women — who went back jokingly to work in a 
plant where many of them were blown to pieces by heavy bombs, and 
in spite of further attempts at bombing — we helped to clear the 
wreckage — they realized what they were working and fighting for. I 
wish you could meet the two boys of 17 I spoke to the other 
day — working in munitions all day, learning to shoot and fight in the 
evening, and taking their turn on night duty with the local home- 
guard watching for parachutists — they weren't blood-thirsty dolts and 
they didn't like war, but they meant to see this grim business to an end 
and build a better world afterwards. 

In many ways you are so unlucky to be safe, sheltered and satisfi- 
ed. Both Canada and the United States helped to lose the peace by 
being just that. But they aren't really safe — no one is really safe — and 



that is not a gloomy thought; it is a challenge to live in a "brave new 
world" and not in a sheltered "rose garden." 

The other day I met an old ucc boy in a regiment which boasts 
several of them, and rather bitterly he complained that the College 
and the Old Boys had completely forgotten them and failed to make 
the least gesture of keeping up friendly ties, whereas some other 
schools (like uts) showed a very active interest in their Old Boys on 
service overseas. I wonder why? 

We dislike war as much as most of you do; we only wish it could 
be over soon — but since we did not have the "guts" to prevent or avoid 
it collectively, let's put some "guts" into winning it and building some- 
thing better afterwards — we can't do it by pretending to live in our 
own little secure world of make-believe. And now you can reach for 
the waste paper basket and say "damn his nerve, anyway." 

IgnatiefFs harsh judgments were a little unfair. The College boys 
were not the only ones lulled to sleep by the "phony" war. The maga- 
zine he castigated was probably at the printers before the Germans 
attacked in the west. Later on, College boys rose to the occasion along 
with hundreds of thousands of other Canadians. 

The same College Times which carried IgnatiefFs letter contained 
another thoughtful one by V. M. Tovell, criticizing the Little Theatre 
equipment, the lack of proper coaching, and the negative effect which 
the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta had on the development of proper 
school dramatics. Tovell's letter had no noticeable effect. It took 
Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor to shake that thirteen-year-old tradi- 
tion: Mikado was cancelled in favour of Henry V, on the recommendation 
of the executive committee of the board. The irrepressible College Times 
commented that "No one has even considered stopping reading Romeo 
and Juliet because the Italians might win some success." 

A boy who spent 1941 through 1944 as a war guest wrote that "UCC 
provided a very secure base not only for myself but for many of the boys 
who found their way to the College. In retrospect I expect that our 
sojourn is now more appreciated than it was at the time." 

The war years were crucial in the life of Peter Newman, who 
arrived in Canada from Czechoslovakia in 1940, knowing no English. 



So that he could learn the language and become absorbed into the cul- 
ture of a new country, Newman's father sent him to board at UCC in 
1944. He stayed three years. Newman recently recalled the years. 

At the time I was not entirely happy because I didn't have my par- 
ents, and boys, being boys, teased me unmercifully when I mispro- 
nounced a word, as I often did. 

First of all I was an immigrant and at that time it was unusual. 
Now it's nothing. But there certainly weren't many immigrants in 
Canada and there were hardly any in Upper Canada College. And 
secondly I was Jewish, and again it was a minority. And thirdly I was 
an only son and had always lived alone and suddenly I was sur- 
rounded with boys. So it was hard. That was on the negative side. On 
the positive side I right away got into the subculture of the young at 
that time which was music — jazz. I became a great follower and fan of 
that music, which was my form of rebellion because my parents were 
brought up on opera and my mother was a classical pianist, and what 
I heard at home was all of that and I rejected that within twenty-four 
hours. I took up drumming and later became the sergeant in the 
Upper Canada College battalion band. I was the lead drummer and 
in church parades I would be keeping step for the whole battalion, so 
this was a moment of glory. I also became president of the radio club. 
These things may seem trivial now but at the time they were the first 
recognition that I had advanced in society, and it was very important 
to me. Presidents were elected, and so in terms of the acceptance that I 
desperately wanted, it was a very dramatic thing. 

The teachers were extremely nice to me, especially Mr. Coulton, 
the physics teacher, and Pop Law. 

There was very high morale in the band, I don't think there was in 
the rest of the battalion, but we all liked our instruments and it was a 
chance to play. 

In retrospect, there was one very negative thing about school. And 
that was the isolation — the isolation from real life, which suddenly 
came in like an avalanche when you went to university. And by real 
life I mean girls. I don't [know] the experience of others, but I cer- 
tainly couldn't cope with it — going through puberty and arriving as a 
more or less grown man at university. I don't know if that was the gen- 


T. W. L. McDermot, principal 1935-42. A 
brilliant and kindly man, he did not see 
eye to eye with many parents and Old 
Boys (The College Times, 1933-35). 

L. M. McKenzie, principal 1943-48. 
Known as "Butch" to generations of stu- 
dents, he was a celebrated mathematics 
teacher who was uncomfortable as princi- 
pal (The College Times, 1942-44). 

Gerald S. Grant, science 1944-64 {The 
College Times, 1948-50). 

R. M. "Pop" Law, classics 1935-55 
(Ashley and Crippen). 

E. M. "Ted" Davidson, classics 1942-62 
(Mrs. E. M. Davidson). 

H. E. "Willy" Orr, classics 1917-66 
{The College Times, June 1966). 

College Life in the 
Thirties and Forties 

(Above) A spiffy Board of Stew- 
ards, 1933-34 (Brightling Stu- 
dios). {Right) The cast of hms 
Pinafore (1930), the second in a 
long line of Gilbert and Sulli- 
van operettas. Arnold C. 
Smith, later Canadian ambas- 
sador to Moscow and Secretary 
of the Commonwealth, is front 
row, far left (Brightling Studi- 
os). (Below) The College plays 
Ridley in the early forties 
(Upper Canada College). 

Nicholas Ignatieff, Canadian his- 
tory teacher 1934-40, who initi- 
ated the tours to western Canada 
and was later Warden of Hart 
House (Mrs. N. Ignatieff). 

The Honour Roll 1939-45 
(Timothy Ryder). 



D BOYS 01 f Mis- 

MO [ill t) ON ACTlVt SfWICl 


j D PtAtrt 



In March 1958, the main building was condemned. These pictures tell something of 
the story. Note the door frame and the two-by-fours holding up the Prayer Hall ceil- 
ing (photos Andy Smith/Panda). {Below) An air photo of the new building in the mid 


College Life in the Seventies (all photos 
from 77*i? College Times) 


(Above) The Upper School masters who bore the 
heat and the burden of the strenuous sixties 
(Upper Canada College). TOP ROW, left to right: 
T. P. CD. Bredin, R. S. Coleman, R.J. Ainsworth, 
C. W. Noble, T. M. Adamson, H. F. A. Lacey, 
M. B. Wansbrough THIRD ROW: F. C. Brennan, 
W. G. Pedoe, R. B. Anthony, J. G. Swift, W.J. Bailey, 
K. R. Bonnyman, J. N. Symons SECOND ROW: J. D. S. 
Wilson, L. M. E. Paichoux, H. Kay, B. W. Bacon, 
J. D. MacDonald, H. Ujimoto, J. W. Linn, J. 
Grindlay FRONT ROW: Dr. W. G. Bassett, C. W. 
Gallimore, M. H. C. Bremner, J. L. Coulton (Vice- 
principal), P. T.Johnson (Principal), J. H. Biggar, 
J. A. Gilham, I. K. Shearer. (Right) R. A. Laidlaw. 
Known as "Bobby" to the College community, he 
joined the board of governors in 1923. The post of 
vice-chairman was created especially for him in 
1925. He was chairman 1935-40, and honorary 
chairman for many years. His generosity to Upper 
Canada College was boundless. He is shown here in 
a characteristically informal pose (courtesy of 
Dr. R. G. N. Laidlaw). 







eral experience, but it was mine. We had a battalion dance, we had a 
house dance, and I forget what the others were — but there were only 
four occasions in the year, and then you probably had a blind date 

Anti-Semitism — my overall impression is that it was virtually non- 
existent. I haven't asked anybody specifically. I had that very rough 
treatment, but I really believe it was because I was an immigrant. 

What you learn is an almost collectivist team work kind of 
approach to life, that if you're a part of something you have to carry 
your share of the load . . . through team sports, through being part of 
an institution You felt some responsibility to your fellow. 

I didn't have a lot of friends but I had maybe three or four, two of 
whom I still see. I never presented myself as an Upper Canada boy or 
tried to pretend that there was an Old Boy network. I suppose some 
people do. I didn't, and I don't know whether it exists. But the legacy 
for me of Upper Canada College was that it provided marvellous 
insights into Canadian society at its very best. 

Newman's memories are a contrast to those of D. J. M. Heap, head 
boy of 1943. Heap was a Canadian whose memories of the College, 
written the year he left, make no mention of the war or the effect it was 
having on the school. As a new boy he was lonely, but as time went on 
and he was drawn into things he felt differently: 

. . . the school was too full of activity for you to be a hermit . . . there 
were always organizations to satisfy your urge for talking, for creating. 
You acted in the Little Theatre, and vividly recollect how the seconds 
passed as you forgot your lines, while the prompter thought it was a 
dramatic pause. Yet the plays were dull compared to the Opera, with 
the scenery and music and chorus, and the master in the wings hissing 
"Sing!"; the best opera was the last one — the one you had no time for. 
There was time for scarcely a tenth of the things you wanted to do. 
Still, you were in debates; though you rarely won, you always enjoyed 
them at the expense of your opponents; and the Curfew Club, where 
you ate and dozed and listened amiably to someone else think; even 
the Battalion . . . you felt real excitement as you moved off for a route 
march, with the band thundering, the dust rising from the track, the 



officers calling orders, the oc out of step and Miss Barrow watching 
from the bank. 

So always your returning thought wanders at last to old friends, 
and long talks with one by the tower window that contemplates 
Toronto, or in the prayer-hall at dusk, and walks under the crab-ap- 
ple trees above the New Field. And still you walk with him, longing 
for what might have been, talking again of what was, till you come 
and stand where the books gaze down at you; here, surrounded by 
minds of the past, as sun and the Oval green roll in through the ivy- 
framed window, you too know that life has been very good. 

Many students besides Newman and Heap enjoyed the clubs and 
hobbies. The old reliables continued: photography, anthropology, sci- 
ence, radio, a lot of music, and the Curfew Club. Stamps and chess were 
on and off. A steady and popular group was the School's Settlement 
Society, which helped underprivileged children at the University Settle- 
ment. New clubs formed with varying success and dealt with chamber 
music, sketching, travel, commerce and finance, and mathematics. The 
finest new development was the Little Theatre, which became an 
immediate success in 1945 under J. D. MacDonald. The group had had 
some earlier hits under Fred Mallett, but it had run down a little and 
MacDonald happily refurbished it. MacDonald felt that creativity was 
what the College was all about, and he was given a free hand in this 
area (though he had a long fight with the custodians of tradition, espe- 
cially in regard to the annual Gilbert and Sullivan). Fine arts to Mac- 
Donald constituted a teaching area, not a performing area; it was 
worth while as a medium in which to develop a human being, to add to 
a boy's knowledge of the world. It was under his leadership that the Lit- 
tle Theatre started to play a significant, prominent role in College life. 1 

The visiting speaker's program, so prominent under Grant, seemed 
to come alive again under McKenzie. Someone addressed the boys 
every ten days during his entire principalship. A significant number of 
these speakers — more than a third — were clergymen, and almost a 
third of the discussions were on religious topics. Many were on current 
affairs and were delivered by J. H. Biggar, and a new interest was 



stirred in French Canada. The religious talks naturally stressed values. 
Perhaps McKenzie was making an attempt to battle the decline in val- 
ues and in religious interest. The College Times of July 1942 regretted 
"the general decline in standards of thought and behaviour and ... of 
concern with duty towards God." It called on the College to take a lead 
among schools to remedy the situation. Understandably, it did not say 
how to go about it. 




1 949 -i 965 

A GOVERNORS' SUB-COMMITTEE consisting of Vincent Massey, 
Major General Bruce Matthews, and Graeme Watson searched 
for McKenzie's successor. A long list of names, essentially Cana- 
dian, was drawn up: headmasters, university academics, with two or 
three Americans added. The terms of reference were broad, but there 
was some emphasis on Canadian experience and experience as a princi- 
pal. Evidently North Americans were not available, however, and the 
committee turned to Sir Edward Peacock to help form a British list. 
This endeavour was aided by Philip Ketchum, headmaster of TCS, who 
visited Ireland in the spring of 1949 and saw one of the nominees, the 
Reverend C. W. Sowby, Warden (headmaster) of St. Columba's Col- 
lege. Born in Lincolnshire in 1902 and educated at Oxford, Sowby had 
been at St. Columba's for sixteen years. He was flown to Toronto in 
May for interviews, including one with Vincent Massey. Fears about 
his being an ordained clergyman were allayed, and in June the board 
announced his appointment. During the discussions Sowby had asked 
the two key questions which he felt a prospective principal ought to ask: 
would he have full authority to appoint staff and would he have free- 
dom to teach religious knowledge? Having been assured on both points, 
Sowby accepted the principalship at a salary of eight thousand dollars 
and took up his responsibilities in September. Although it was ninety 
years since a minister of the Church of England (Scadding) had had 
any influence in College affairs, the enrolment had always had an An- 
glican majority and the school had been widely considered as an Angli- 
can one. Now, for the first time since the days of Harris and McCaul 



over a century before, ucc had an Anglican clergyman from England 
at its head. 

The College had half a dozen problems in 1949. Except for about 
twenty scholarships, it had almost no endowment. Masters' salaries 
were low: the Upper School average of $3,400 and the Prep average of 
$2,900 were about $650 below the Toronto averages. There was some 
lack of confidence in the school, resulting in a low enrolment: with 
accommodation for 465, there were 287 day boys, 100 boarders, and no 
waiting list. Sowby wrote later that he had some doubts about the 
buildings. He thought the infirmary on the third floor was a fire trap 
and the day-boys' dining-room in the basement very ugly. He was also 
shaken by the top floor of the main building, where "the windows and 
doors showed no right angles or parallel lines." 1 Furthermore, he was 
concerned about what he saw as a general Old Boy philosophy that a 
properly run school should pay its own way from fees. A few Old Boys 
had been enormously generous, but the great majority felt no financial 
responsibility to their old school. Lastly, Sowby felt at a loss to deal with 
the hysteria accompanying the football and hockey games against the 
other Little Big Four schools. 

The school's top priorities had not materially changed in thirty 
years: they were salaries, pensions, and scholarships. The Memorial 
Fund collected during McKenzie's time was intact, though not large 
enough to erect the Memorial Hall originally hoped for. Sowby's first 
idea was to use this fund for more and larger scholarships to attract boys 
from everywhere: from small Ontario towns, from French Canada, 
from Eskimo and Indian settlements, from the armed forces and diplo- 
matic missions overseas, from the United States, from the Caribbean, 
and so on. 2 Old Boy sentiment, however, so strongly favoured a visible 
memorial that an alternative plan was produced which would satisfy 
the Old Boys and at the same time solve two of the worst problems in 
the building: the infirmary and the day-boys' dining-room. These 
would be combined in a Memorial Wing. 

Simultaneously with these discussions, an Upper Canada College 
Foundation 3 was begun under the directorship of Harold A. Roberts, 
an Old Boy and long-time enthusiastic College supporter. The Founda- 



tion listed for the College community its needs in addition to the 
Memorial Wing: enlarged accommodation for the Prep; a chapel; artifi- 
cial ice; married quarters; an extension to the gym; and, of course, bur- 
saries, scholarships, and salary and pension improvement. In October 
1 95 1 Prime Minister St. Laurent laid the foundation stone for the 
Memorial Wing, which was in use by the following September. The 
building cost $300,000, of which almost $120,000 came from the 1932 
Massey Endowment. The Prep received a boost because 1952 was its 
fiftieth jubilee: enough money was collected over a five-year period to 
erect a classroom and office block joining the 1902 and 1922 buildings, 
a gym, and a separate headmaster's house on the main avenue. 

Staff salaries received a good deal of thought in the early fifties. In 
April 1 95 1 G. Y. Ormsby, the College bursar, produced for the board a 
long memorandum which came to grips with some hard facts: UCC was 
competing with Toronto salaries, which were as high as any in the 
province, and with a very generous pension scheme which Upper Can- 
ada could not match. Ormsby stated that the College's objectives 
should be to narrow, if not eliminate altogether, the gaps between the 
two systems, and to fix a basic scale. He recommended a regular annual 
salary increase and a maximum, but he did not feel the College could 
match the Toronto minimum. Ormsby emphasized the enormous 
differential in the pension schemes. As a result of his figures, the fifties 
were defined (as much as by any other development) by a steady series 
of fee raises and a steady rise in masters' salaries. The day-boy fees rose 
over 120 per cent to $850, the boarder fees over 70 per cent to $1,750. 
During the same period the average salary rose from $3,200 to over 
$5,100. Some individual salaries were up over 90 per cent. Another 
important development was that masters who had Ontario teaching 
certificates could join the Ontario Teachers' Superannuation Fund. At 
the same time, UCC drew up a pension scheme of its own. All this was 
accompanied by a steady rise in day-boy enrolment, pushing the Upper 
School numbers to over 450. 

A few academic changes took place in the fifties. The sixth form, an 
old concept, was reintroduced. This was a special form designed to give 
gifted boys an extra year of intellectual stimulus, physical and social 



maturity, and leadership opportunities, after completing their grade- 
thirteen year. All the boys had been accelerated at some point. There 
was always some scepticism about the value of the year among parents, 
boys, and masters, but most of those who experienced it thought it 
worth while, and a large proportion had outstanding university records. 
The experiment ended about ten years later because some boys were 
taking the two grade-thirteen years to get as high an average as possi- 
ble; some universities, among them Toronto, decided to discriminate 
against these boys and favour those completing the work in one year. 

Another innovation was accommodation for boys who did not wish 
to take Latin. For some years this subject had been compulsory for all 
boys except those in grade thirteen; after 1950 one or more non- Latin 
forms appeared in the school program. This marked the beginning of 
the end for Latin as a discipline central to the UCC curriculum. By 1979 
Latin was mandatory for grade nine only. 

When Sowby arrived, the Upper School forms were very carefully 
divided into five streams (ai, A2, bi, B2, and B3), with boys placed 
according to their marks of the previous year. Competition for A forms 
was very keen; the boys were younger and abler and had to take an 
extra subject. One master of this period felt that the A forms were the 
best in the country, bi was satisfactory, but B2 and B3 were badly 
ignored. Starting in the mid fifties this rigid scheme was gradually sof- 
tened into two streams, with the forms in each stream being of equal 
ability. At the same time it was presumed that all boys entering the 
school were potential candidates for senior matriculation; there was no 
idea of introducing commercial or technical courses. 

In 1950 an Upper School entrance exam was introduced under the 
guidance of Arthur Killip. Killip had taught at both the Prep and the 
Upper School in the twenties and then had become the first headmaster 
of Hillfield School in Hamilton. Anxious to drop administrative worries 
and return to teaching, he rejoined UCC and undertook the selection of 
new boys entering grade nine, as well as the task of looking carefully 
over a number of the weaker boys coming up from the Prep. 

One of Sowby's original concerns had been the teaching of religious 
knowledge. To fill what he felt was a great need, he, helped by Mrs. 



Sowby, taught scripture to grades nine through eleven and to the sixth 
form, as well as taking the regular Sunday evening boarders' chapel 
service. He found it extremely difficult to make the Sunday evening 
services meaningful, and after he left, the religious-knowledge classes 
were dropped. One thing, however, pleased him very much. He was 
anxious that the school have a chapel. Some senior boys suggested to 
him that a cloister on the west side of the quadrangle was being badly 
used and would make an ideal chapel site. Governor General Massey 
liked the idea and agreed to finance it as a memorial to his late wife 
Alice. The completion of this project was postponed by the 1958 catas- 
trophe, but it was finally dedicated in October i960. For some years a 
weekly evening service was held there, as were Anglican confirmation 
classes. Some Old Boys have been married there. 

In the winter of 1958 Sowby received a strange letter from an old 
acquaintance in Quebec predicting some kind of building trouble and 
an evacuation. Five weeks later a firm of engineers was called in to 
investigate some deterioration in the roof of the main building, and 
Ormsby warned Sowby that a large repair bill was imminent. With this 
background Sowby attended a governors' meeting on March 11 to be 
given the stunning news that the main building was in a serious state of 
deterioration, a heavy snowfall might bring down the roof and more 
besides, and that the entire building must be evacuated without delay. 

In its long history Upper Canada College had sailed some rough 
seas. A tradition had grown of battening down the hatches and riding 
things out, with every member of the crew pulling his or her own 
weight. The 1958 crisis was no different. The evacuation was quick and 
smooth. The governors were then faced with three alternatives: close 
down, move the school to Norval, or make temporary arrangements 
until funds for rebuilding became available. The first choice was 
unthinkable; the second would have changed irrevocably the character 
of the school; that left the third. 

Portable classrooms were immediately ordered and put into use. 
Masters and maids were scattered abroad, three of the latter living in 
Grant House for thirty months. The bursar's office moved to the Prep, 
as did Killip. Morale remained high. Through all the travail, enrol- 



ment remained steady, and the books showed a surplus which was typi- 
cal of the decade. In September 1958 the governors showed their faith 
in the future and their shrewdness by announcing an increase of 10 per 
cent in the total salary budget, the largest total in the school's history. 

An amendment to the 1900 Upper Canada College Act was passed, 
enabling the College to borrow more than $100,000. Under the leader- 
ship of Maitland Macintosh, the chairman of the board, and Bruce 
Matthews, the chairman of the financial campaign, the College put up 
a target of $2,930,000 for the community to aim at. The Globe and Mail 
supplied strong editorial support, arguing that since the College was 
devoted almost entirely to preparing students for higher education, it 
could not be regarded as separate from the university; Upper Canada 
College had traditions of scholarship, quality, civility, pride; high stan- 
dards had been maintained when in other places they had fallen into 
decay. The paper was less enthusiastic about the condemned building, 
which was "undistinguished and jerry-built." 

It did not take long to raze the structure into which Dickson had 
moved his school sixty-seven years before. The students gathered on the 
Prep field to watch the weathercock being removed from the pinnacle 
of the tower. When it finally descended, a collective sigh rose: an era 
had ended. 

The planning of the new building was a joint effort, with all mem- 
bers of the faculty joining one committee or another to make it as 
efficient as possible. Old Boy sentiment, however, severely limited any 
changes the planners wanted to make. There was much love for the old 
building no matter what its faults, and the tower, a Toronto landmark, 
symbolized for some the lofty ideals which had upheld the school over 
the years. The new building, therefore, looked much like the old one. 

The Building Appeal was enormously successful. Banks, insurance 
companies, and industry — none of which had previously given to sec- 
ondary education — were generous in their donations. There were 
almost 3,500 donors; gifts ranged from $5 to $300,000. Old Boys aver- 
aged $620; parents averaged over $500. There was a general feeling that 
this was a real emergency, unlike any other the school had experienced; 



it was a case of do or die. By October 1958, 60 per cent of the objective 
had been reached. 

In May 1959 the cornerstone of the new school was laid by Gover- 
nor General Vincent Massey. That summer h.r.h. The Prince Philip 
paid the school a visit, which was taken to be a beneficial omen.* In 
April i960 Field Marshal Montgomery dedicated the new front doors, 
which had been presented by the Queen's Own Rifles of Canada, and 
in September the new building was opened by Vincent Massey. The 
cost of $3,200,000 had been fully subscribed, a tribute to the genius of 
Macintosh and his colleagues and to the friends of the College who had 
dug deep to meet the challenge. 

UCC had lived to fight again. It entered the sixties with a brand new 
facility but no illusions about the future. During the crisis, D. S. Beatty, 
a governor, had written to a parent: "the fee structure over the years 
has been insufficient to maintain the facilities. . . . Despite the generosity 
of benefactors the school had no endowment (in 1958) . . . and barely 

enough working capital for normal requirements UCC is the same as 

other Canadian independent schools."^ Beatty concluded that since 
Canada was a young country, the generosity of all who believed in 
independent education would be needed. 

Even as those words were being written, a governors' committee of 
Macintosh, H. H. Wilson, and G. P. Clarkson was holding a series of 
meetings to consider optimum enrolment, salaries, fee structure, the 
state of the physical plant, and anything else that was relevant. Some of 
their recommendations became outdated by circumstances, 6 but the 
Royal Commission, as it was called, was a systematic attempt by the 
governors to analyse all the human, financial, and construction ques- 
tions which the school faced. It alerted the entire board to the necessity 
of foresight and planning. Despite the recent generous raises, starting 
salaries in i960 were still lower than those in Toronto schools. The com- 
mittee wanted to close this gap and delete the differences between 
Upper School and Prep salaries. It also recommended a three-year pro- 
gram of renovation in the Peacock Building and the revitalization of 
the Foundation. The pension plan was much improved and group life, 
accident, and sickness insurance were introduced. 



The building emergency and all that it entailed drained Sowby. He 
had had no privacy for about thirty months, and his last years at the 
College were spent in poor health. In 1962 an administrative committee 
was formed to assist him. It examined the whole question of staff 
remuneration — salaries, perquisites, compulsory retirement, tenure of 
office. The committee's recommendations, like so much else in the six- 
ties, were overtaken by the rapid movement of events outside the school. 
UCC was constantly reacting because it was in no financial position to 
force the pace. Despite the progress made during the fifties, masters felt 
that they were not adequately paid, and most had to work elsewhere 
during the summer. There was a good deal of turnover among them: 
the common room was unstable; in Sowby 's later years morale was 

After the building emergency and into the early sixties, the College, 
in common with much of the western world, was in cultural shock. It 
was an especially trying period for those in charge of secondary educa- 
tion, and Sowby was no exception. In fact, because of his clerical back- 
ground he may have found the situation incomprehensible with no 
church authority to back him up. He kept his attitude of spiritual tran- 
quillity, his belief in tradition and in ritual, but most of the students 
lived in a different world, one in which his moral authority was shaky. 
His kindly naivete, his expectation that people would do the right 
thing, his belief in the importance of public relations, his fear of unpop- 
ularity — these were no substitute for determined checking on bad 
teaching or disciplinary action in cases of bad behaviour. He had the 
good of the school at heart, but after fifteen busy years, his time had 
come. In March 1964 Sowby and the board chairman, H. H. Wilson, 
agreed that he would retire the following year. 



School Life Under Sowby 

1 949 -i 965 

in the fifties was fairly quiet: the boys continued to learn, to 
laugh, to grow. The Prep is remembered by both boarders and 
day boys. "Diary of a Boarder at the United Empire Academy" must 
echo the memories of many boarders of that era (or any era): 

Thursday, January 5th: Mr. La Bouche was on duty in the dorm. He 
confiscated my Luger water gun, but I still have my pee-wee and I will 
get a syrup bottle. 

Saturday, January 7th: I sold a toy car to one of the Juniors for $2.00. 
That is about 300% profit. I bought a syrup bottle. It squirts magnifi- 

Sunday, January 8th: Fungus and I were making candy in the base- 
ment before Chapel when we were raided by some other boys. They 
started throwing it around till it got caught in Fungus' hair. Later, 
some Intermediates trapped four Seniors in the locker room. I was one 
of the trapped. We got water from the showers and bombed them from 
the top of the lockers. 

Monday, January 9th: Fungus grabbed my feet in skating and in 
doing so got a skate blade between the eyes. Gallons of blood were all 
over the rink. I did not realise he had so much. 

Tuesday, January 10th: Fungus, Horsy and I had a feast last night. 
We are going to have a more elaborate one to-night. We had a small 
fight with the other dorm. 



Wednesday, January nth: We had a fire drill last night. It took 2 
mins., 3 sees. We were all awake before it started. Mr. Richard said 
this was very good. 

Thursday, January 12th: We are having our third and final feast to- 

Friday, January 13th: We had the feast last night. We were nearly 
caught by the mod but Fungus hid under the bed. We think the mas- 
ter must have been half asleep. 

George Hayhurst, an enthusiastic athlete, was at the Prep from 
1953 to 1958: 

The Prep definitely had a positive impact on me as I now look back 
upon those years with a great deal of satisfaction and enjoyment. 
Whether I would have turned out any differently had I gone to, say, 
John Ross Robertson public is a moot point but Fm certain that I 
would not have had as much fun nor as interesting relationships as at 
ucc. I constantly meet people from those days, and while I am no 
longer close friends with anybody from that era, whenever I see people 
the rekindling of friendships or acquaintances is always positive. 

Athletically while I did not excel, I played on all the teams and 
certainly those were my most enjoyable hours at school. Definitely I 
was happy at the Prep. It was a great place to be in the 50's. We had a 
lot of fun on the fields, made good and interesting friends and even 
learned a few facts in the classroom — some of them non-academic. I 
suppose the area of my greatest malice toward the school is that 
although I did reasonably well scholastically every year, even my last 
year when I think I had 62% and finished last in a very clever class — it 
was recommended I repeat my year. ... It could have been the stimu- 
lus that propelled me to any success I've ever had. ... A good school 
the Prep. I just hope the fees don't get so far out of line that I can't 
afford to send my two sons there. 

Hayhurst's concern about continuity has been expressed by many 
Old Boys. Expense and academic potential are the two hurdles to be 



leapt. Yet, God willing, there will always be some continuity. Douglas 
Shipp wrote from California: 

When I was attending ucc in the Prep School in 1957 I was a new 
student from the U.S., a boarder as well as homesick. As you may 
remember my Dad had preceded my tenure by approximately 30 
years and by his attendance at ucc I was so encouraged. 

At any rate I can remember one particular evening I had gone to 
the bathroom back in the dorm and upon being seated on a toilet stool 
I assumed the well-known position. And I began to gaze at the closed 
partition door and after inspection of the many initials and inscrip- 
tions one caught my eye. It was reasonably well carved and one I had 
never seen before. Yet it brought me more personal warmth, pride, 
enthusiasm and feeling than anything else ever could. It read: Frank 
L. Shipp sat here 1929. 

Need I say any more? 

Standards continued to remain high academically, athletically, and 
in the extra-curricular programs. Douglas Peppiatt, who entered the 
Upper School in 1952, wrote: 

... the academic program at Upper Canada College continues to be of 
value to me. It was there that I acquired my love of the English lan- 
guage which has continued to be a source of both pleasure and profit 
to me ever since. It was also at the College that I became interested in 
history which also continues to give me considerable pleasure. There is 
nothing I can contribute concerning the curriculum but the most val- 
uable academic resources were people — 

I was never a very good athlete and by the time I got into the 

Upper School I was not even a very enthusiastic spectator I always 

felt that athletics were somewhat over-emphasized at Upper Canada 
in my day and that the star athletes were somewhat over-valued, a 
feeling which may not be entirely untinged with jealousy. Neverthe- 
less, assuming that physical exercise is necessary for growing boys, I 
can think of no way that some of us . . . would ever have got any if it 
had not been compulsory. 

I found the extracurricular program to be of great value at the 



time and I think that some of its effects still linger. The College Times, of 
which I was Prep Editor, and the debating club in the Upper School 
were great fun and contributed to my ability to write and speak. Simi- 
larly what was then the United Nations Club fostered a political inter- 
est which has never died. I cannot say that the Junior Farmers Club 
created any great love for the soil in me, but it certainly ended any lin- 
gering thoughts of going into the meat-packing business. Strangely 
enough I thoroughly enjoyed the battalion in the Upper School, 
although I never rose from the ranks. I feel that it was a great mistake 
to make it a voluntary organization. 

There is no doubt that my years at UCC were happy ones, 
although not entirely so. This is more a result of the human condition 
than a reflection on the College, although it was not, either in theory 
or practice, perfect, any more than I expect it is today. I did feel then, 
and I am even more aware in retrospect, that the teaching staff was 
capable and dedicated. I made many friends at the College and many 
of those friendships continue to the present day. The College was, and 
still is, in Dr. Sowby's words "A Family Writ Large." Most of us felt a 
bond with each other because of the College, and that bond still con- 
tinues for many of us. I was aware at the time of learning, that such 
learning was necessary, and I think that the College made it as pain- 
less as was compatible with effectiveness, and a part of it was positively 

John Ridpath echoed Peppiatt: 

I can't overestimate the impact the College had on me. To this 
day, when life seems to have lost a little direction or sense, I still go 
back to wander around the grounds, or the halls, and there I still find 
the nourishment and confidence that I benefited from so much in 
those formative years. If I believed in ghosts, I think I would want to 
spend my years as a ghost wandering the halls and watching ucc work 
its magic on the boys who are so fortunate to be there. . . . My years at 
the College (1950-55) were the single most important and formative 
experience of my life. 



An anonymous Old Boy's terse comments provide a somewhat 
different perspective. He described the academic program as: 

Good solid, no-nonsense basics; lack of subject choice an advantage to 
the naive teenager. Major disadvantage was the "three sets of exams" 
format. This led to a cramming mentality in later years. Likewise the 
lack of assignments other than nightly homework. 

Bad memories!! As nearly the smallest and youngest of the form, 
who could hope to make the first team against those Herculean 
gladiators? Always felt that the principal tended to over-glorify foot- 
ball/hockey heroes while ignoring the hard workers in the lesser 

Being hopelessly un-athletic, remember the Phys. Ed. master try- 
ing to persuade me to do a "flip" on the trampoline. "Alright, do a 
somersault!!" Yours truly obediently placed head on trampoline, 
pushed with scrawny legs and wobbled to a supine position. The col- 
our on the master's face would have fried an egg. He never spoke to 
me in my remaining two years at the college. Athletes are born, not 

The cadet battalion, which had such a hard time in the sixties, had 
this boy's support: 

Great experience, discipline, bladder training, loved target shooting, 
mock battles with Queen's Own. Still feel capable of disassembling/ as- 
sembling Lee Enfield and Bren blindfolded. 

My years at ucc were unqualifiedly happy. Level of example set 
by staff and guest speakers far beyond that available elsewhere in 
Canada, ucc smoothed adolescence, taught ethics, stressed duties over 

In March 1958 the main building was condemned as unsafe. One of 
the senior students, Ian Easterbrook (a grandson of Henry Auden) sent 
home the following detailed account of the dramatic days following the 
decision to evacuate the structure. 

On Tuesday March 11, 1958, at 11.00 a.m. a report from Messrs. 



Mathers and Haldenby, Architects, and Wallace, Carruthers and 
Associates Limited, consulting engineers, was placed before the Board 
of Governors. It stated that in the event of some unusual stress (high 
winds, wet snow, earth tremors) the roof and clock tower of the main 
building may collapse. 

An emergency meeting of the Board of Governors was held at 4.00 
p.m. on that day. It was decided that in order to endanger no lives, the 
building should be evacuated at once. 

The boarders of Seaton's House were notified at 9.30 p.m. that 

The next morning all the maids, who had quarters in the main 
building, were moved to the infirmary [or to Grant House]. The mas- 
ters who had apartments were moved. The front office was moved to a 
room in the infirmary. Dr. Bassett's office was now in his house. The 
principal's secretary was in Grant House. All the above had taken 
place before 7.30 a.m. on Wednesday, when the Wedd's boarders were 
told of the crisis by Mr. Cape, junior housemaster. His announcement 
that the school had been condemned brought laughs, but when he 
announced the school would be closed for about a week, you can imagine the 
shouts of glee! 

At 9.00 a.m. on Wednesday the school met in the gym, with the 
masters, and Dr. Sowby announced to the school exactly what the sit- 
uation was. The acting chairman of the Board of Governors spoke 

By noon all was to be moved from the building, and it was to be 
sealed. This was of course impossible, but nevertheless an effort was 

All boys were forbidden to enter the building. Immediately after 
the Board of Governors' decision to condemn the building, all the 
masters and help who entered were required to sign a paper freeing 
the school of responsibility in the event of collapse. 

Numerous changes were effected immediately. The bursar moved 
to the prep. The masters' common room was moved to the squash 
courts, under the gym. The meals were served to the boarders and 
masters in the Memorial Dining Hall under the infirmary. The sports 
shop was moved to a room in Seaton's Basement. The library followed, 
moving into another room in Seaton's basement, a few days later. 



The main building on Thursday was sealed, all doorways being 
locked or boarded up. The clock in the tower continued to operate, as 
did the bell system. The electricity was shut off, however. 

Within a few days lumber, up to 12' x 12' began to arrive to be 
used as supports in the engine room, which was likewise condemned, 
yet compelled to continue supplying heat and light. 

Master meetings were held and certain men were placed in charge 
of particular problems: 

Mr. Davidson — food, meals. 

Mr. Gallimore — publicity. 

Mr. Harrison — evacuation. 


Several masters were staying in Grant House and Rosemary 
Sowby remarked that she couldn't remember when she had seen so 
many empty liquor bottles. 

On Friday and Saturday the tower rooms {College Times room, 
Radio Club room, Physics lab.) were stripped. 

On Sunday a catering service supplied lunch and supper to give 
the maids a rest. 

On Monday another meeting of the Board of Governors took 
place. At 1 1 .00 a.m. the next day, Dr. Sowby met with the stewards, 
and with the rest of the masters at 5.00 p.m. 

On Monday and Tuesday the Art Room was cleaned out and 
most of the supplies were moved to a room in Wedd's Basement. 

Photographs were taken of the Prayer Hall and Main Hall. 

The carpenter shop in the basement of the main building contin- 
ued to function. 

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday (March 19, 20, 21) the 
organ was removed from the Prayer Hall by Eaton's Organ Company. 
It was to be stored. 

For a week, trucks had been removing stuff from the college, either 
to be sold (Wedd's billiard table, numerous pianos) or to be stored 
(Prayer Hall furniture, master's belongings). 

On Thursday and Friday of the previous week, review classes had 
been arranged for 5th forms. Their exams started on March 1 8. 

Numerous rumors flew. It was suggested that one-half million dol- 
lars was at the school's disposal to rebuild. 



On Wednesday March 12, the Minister of Education (Dunlop) 
proposed an amendment to the Upper Canada College Act . . . allow- 
ing the school to spend more than $100,000 a year. The amendment 
was passed. 

Work on the chapel, as such, was halted as that room will no 
doubt be used as a classroom next year. 

About six prefabs (one, sports shop, 3, to be labs) are to be erected 
on the tennis courts. 

All masters have cleared their rooms. Numerous bits of furniture 
have found their way to the boarding houses or to the masters' homes 
(e.g. Harold Roberts, Mr. Sharp, Mr. Davidson) Mr. Biggar has 
worked industriously moving beds, etc., into his residence. 

It has been announced unofficially that there will be no 6th form 
next year. 

Mr. Law, after spending several days at a golf clubhouse, is mov- 
ing into a room in Wedd's. Mr. Orr has taken over the Wedd's pre- 
fects room as an absentee office and archives bureau. 

The crafts shop has been moved from the main building basement 
to the basement of Grant House. 

On Thursday evening, Dr. Sowby came in to Wedd's evening 
prayers and stated that the school has no funds to rebuild, and all 
money will have to come from Old Boys' pockets. He foresees a new 
modern building, with new desks etc. in a few years (he declined to 
estimate how long). 

[Description of (forbidden) visit to condemned building] 

On Thursday Morning, Eric and I got up at 5.30 and made an 
inspection of the Main building. We discovered that all the chemicals 
from the labs, and a certain amount of physics equipment was in the 
gallery of the pool. 

Rooms 10 1, 102, 103, 104 looked like antique shops. All the furni- 
ture from the upper floors, desks, chairs, record players (3 wind up) 
was amassed in these four rooms, awaiting destinations. It was a 
pathetic sight. 

The little theatre had been untouched, and everywhere diagrams, 
notes, scribblings, remained on blackboards, just as if all were normal. 

The portraits had been removed from the prayer hall. The hon- 
ours boards remained. The organ was partly disassembled. 



The physics lab, and chemistry lab were bare. Mr. Killip's apart- 
ment was empty. We went into the tower and found all the classrooms 
and club rooms painfully bare. We climbed 20 feet above the fourth 
floor into the tower itself, up a tiny winding staircase. 

There were dozens of empty maids' rooms which were quite bar- 
ren except for an occasional picture or calendar on the wall. 

We found the Art Room a shambles. There were paintings (on 
paper) all over the floor. Tins, opera paint, scraps of leather, card- 
board boxes, were everywhere. Mr. Brennan's room, a chemistry-phys- 
ics lab, was not quite empty. A skeleton remained in a locked 

Mr. Cape's chemistry lab was still filled with chemicals, waiting to 
come down several flights of stairs. Mr. Gilham's physics lab was 
clean, except for writing, solutions to problems, all over the boards. 

By this time it was getting light. We left by the gym, climbing over 
piles of cardboard boxes waiting to be stored. 

The school has done an excellent job keeping us informed (not 
about the fate of the school. ... I had to dig details out from stewards, 
house matrons, passing masters, etc.) with respect to classes, exams, 
etc. A report will be sent to you soon outlining what is to become of 
the school buildings. 

How serious is the crisis: 

When the school was last inspected six years ago it was known to 
be in fair shape only. You may remember that in the fall work was just 
completed on supports in the east wing. A slipping of 6" in various 
members necessitated the installation of numerous hefty steel beams. 

The school felt that it was only sensible to begin a preventive 
maintenance scheme, and hoped to reinforce the rest of the main 
building in two stages working during this coming summer and the 

The school now is faced with this: The clock tower, and tower and 
third floors must come down. If the building is saved it will have only 
two storeys. It is likely that a completely new building will be erected 
as Dr. Sowby talks enthusiastically along those lines. 

It will probably be about five years before all is restored to normal. 
Some people have spoken of the rebuild job as a 5 million dollar 



I'm sure several of the masters will leave. Miss Barrow's assistant 
Mrs. Lamont is to go as soon as a replacement is found. 

It is inconceivable what would have happened if one of the gym, 
infirmary or boarding houses was lacking. 

Tuesday March 25. 

5.30 Again this morning. Master's Common Room. Notice re. 
school sent to parents. Two other current notices, one from Sowby to 
masters about morale, efforts — congratulations and exhortations. The 
other was from a committee in classrooms 

The basement is divided approximately in two for its entire length 
by supports of braced 2x4. The print shop is just moving out. The 
camera club room has been deserted. We skipped up to the Prayer 
Hall. Organ is entirely out. Picture of Lord Seaton is gone. Boards 
alone remain. Several are down already. Cape's room is cleaned. 
Desks in Jack Gilham's room are lying down (ready to be lowered out 
a window?). Library has books piled on the floor. Old Boys office emp- 
ty. Dining hall is empty. Common Room clean. Sowby's offices lit- 
tered with papers. 

Organ stored by parking lot entrance. Theatre cleaned out. Still 
piles of chemicals, equipment in little gym. Most of stuff cleaned out of 
corridors, etc. 10 1, 102 etc. bare. 

Bell system is out. Fluorescent lights being stored in Bursar's office. 

Much work outside. Portables are arriving in the shape of large 
lumber piles, foundations are being dug. Trench is being dug from gas 
line over to Grant House. 

John Linn's room: slowly being cleaned. Most of his furniture has 
gone but all his junk sits ready to be packed. 

In September i960 the new building was opened. A decade of rapid, 
almost frightening change had begun. Life in the school could not help 
being influenced by fresh values. Before many years had passed, Dr. 
Sowby retired and the College was looking for a new principal. 



The Recent Past 

7 ""he GOVERNORS did not look far for Sowby's successor. Patrick T. 
Johnson, MA, age thirty-nine, had been born in north-east India and 
educated in England. At the age of eighteen he had joined the Gurk- 
has and served with them for three and a half years. He had then taken 
a degree at Oxford in politics, economics, and philosophy. For the next 
seven years he had taught in Florida and at his old school, Rossall. In 
1958 he joined the staff at UCC to teach history and English and coach 
nearly all games. His reputation as both a teacher and a housemaster 
were outstanding when he was appointed principal in 1965. 

In 1967 Johnson articulated as the College's purpose the provision 
of "a well-balanced education . . . [in] an environment which stresses 
tradition, religion, independence, competition, opportunities for leader- 
ship and a healthy discipline" in order to build character and encour- 
age initiative. The College aimed "to serve Canada by providing her 
with . . . young men dedicated to service, loyal to their country . . . with 
intellectual, physical and spiritual qualities." 1 It was hard enough to 
specify aims and objectives; to attain them was a Herculean task. 

The sixties, especially the second half, were tough, tough years at 
Upper Canada College, as they were for education all over the world. 
The College shared the stresses and strains evident everywhere. The 
remarkable shifts in values, the overwhelming presence of the Vietnam 
War, the loosening of parental control, the meteoric rise of science and 
technology following Sputnik, the continuing decline in religious faith 
in the West, the surge towards a wide variety of drugs, the professionali- 
zation of amateur sport — how could UCC remain untouched by all this? 



The school had many non-academic problems to solve. In a throwaway 
world, where millions of young people simply wore the same clothes 
until they disintegrated, where did traditional jackets and school ties fit 
in? The battle against long hair was lost before it began. A decline in 
the cadet corps steepened considerably as the decade ran its course. 
While drugs and alcohol were pervasive in society, at the College they 
were dealt with swiftly. Johnson was whipsawed between the boys, who 
wanted to make changes on many fronts as quickly as possible, and the 
Old Boys and parents, many of whom wanted him to do their jobs by 
resisting change alone. There were times when he felt out of touch with 
the students. 

Still the College bent, sometimes into, sometimes with, the winds 
and struggled through. The Hall-Dennis report, which changed the 
face of Ontario education, was carefully studied and pretty well repudi- 
ated: neither Johnson nor his colleagues believed in much of the philos- 
ophy, and what they did believe in had been done for years anyway. 
The repudiation added to the College's appeal for those parents who 
rejected what appeared to be the lack of challenge and competition in 
the new educational testament. The dropping of the grade-thirteen pro- 
vincial examinations in 1967 — a very controversial move, though on 
balance, probably a sensible one — created difficulties with which the 
school took a long time to cope. The same degree of competitiveness 
and scholarship became impossible. There was an inevitable drop in 
provincial standards, with the attendant problem of how to deal with 
the cheapened product. Parents and staff were unanimous in insisting 
that UCC should not introduce any overly simple courses. Because John- 
son and the masters opposed inflationary marks, the bright students did 
not win their fair share of university scholarships, nor did they get into 
the universities of their choice. This situation was still a dilemma in the 
mid seventies. 

In order to set up priorities, the College board, under chairman D. 
M. Woods, undertook a long-range planning process between 1967 and 
1972, centred on the curriculum. A faculty curriculum committee 
chaired by J. L. Coulton was formed; eight groups — four at the Upper 
School, four at the Prep — were asked to study and report on academics, 



athletics, extra curriculum, 2 and faculty matters. The key academic 
recommendation was that the school should remain basically a univer- 
sity training ground and should therefore keep its core curriculum 
of English, history, mathematics, French, and science. Options — 
geography, biology, German, Latin, art, music — were certainly avail- 
able, but nobody could escape the subjects that the faculty felt formed 
the heart of learning. 

Arising from the final report was a building "Program for Upper 
Canada College" costing $1,365,000. Just under eighteen hundred Old 
Boys, parents, friends, and corporations donated between $5 and 
$100,000. The Upper School got a new library, a lecture theatre, a com- 
puter, and an art room. Since the report's publication there has been a 
blossoming of art, photography, and other creative endeavours, espe- 
cially instrumental music. Cable television was installed in both schools. 
For the athletes several new squash courts were constructed, plus a cov- 
ered hockey arena. The arena was the gift of a small group of generous 
Old Boys. In 1973 a proposal to build a second arena was turned down 
after a hot debate; the two deteriorating outdoor rinks were renovated 
instead. At the suggestion of the faculty committee a generous educa- 
tional or sabbatical leave program was begun; under it one or two mas- 
ters have "recreated" themselves every year throughout the seventies. 

During the early seventies, as well, the College reorganized to 
achieve a broader representation of parents and friends on the gov- 
erning board. It had become a tradition for Old Boys to fill all the 
vacancies on the board. Now, for the first time it became deliberate pol- 
icy to elect non-Old Boy parents as full board members, and as mem- 
bers of the board committees. In 1977 Sandra Ryder (Mrs. T. M.) 
became the first woman board-member in the College's history. The 
Old Boys' Association, which had given sterling service for almost 
eighty years, became a committee of the board. This change was a deli- 
cate operation which gave some pain to the OBA, but when it was over 
and the wounds had healed, the group took on renewed vigour. 

Johnson had long stated that he would remain as principal for only 
ten years. In the spring of 1974, after a difficult decade, he resigned. His 
successor was Richard H. Sadleir, who had taught at the Upper School 



from 1953 to 1963. He had then gone to help establish Trent Universi- 
ty, where he served as vice-president for seven years. Sadleir, educated 
at UTS, Trinity College, Toronto, OCE, and Cambridge, was the first 
Torontonian to become principal. He and Johnson worked together 
during the autumn term and, on January 1, 1975, Sadleir became 
ucc's fifteenth principal. Johnson's ten years had been fiendishly 
difficult, perhaps as harrowing as any in the College's history, but he 
was able to hand over a healthy school. Under Sadleir, the College has 
continued at an accelerated pace along the road that Johnson had 

Gradually the relationship between Upper Canada College and the 
surrounding community changed. The long-time philosophy about out- 
siders using the grounds was defensive. There was even a time in 1948 
when a special policeman was engaged to patrol the grounds on Satur- 
day after hours and Sundays. Now, the magnet of the hockey arena 
attracted outside groups and eventually led to a summer hockey school. 
The influx of friendly strangers to the grounds reversed a philosophy of 
eighty years — namely, that the grounds were sacred and for the use of 
the College alone. When the boys are not using the facilities in the eve- 
nings and on weekends, outside groups often make arrangements to use 
them. The College has started to operate a music school, a soccer 
school, a tennis school, and a summer hostel. Joggers and dog- walkers 
cross paths by day and night, and the main avenue is often clogged with 
traffic. Solid fences that turned people away have been replaced by see- 
through chain link. The face of the campus has changed. 

The development of the faculty as a force to be listened to has been 
no less dramatic. Masters now attend governors' meetings and help the 
administration in salary considerations; they have, with courteous 
determination, levered the salaries to a point where they are almost on 
a par with their City of Toronto counterparts. 

With the escalation of all expenses, especially the valiant attempts 
to bring salaries and wages into competitive line, the seventies have wit- 
nessed the College racing just to keep up financially. Since 1969 day- 
boy fees have risen almost 160 per cent; boarders' fees, 136 per cent. In 
spite of this, enrolment is well over 900 in the combined school: the 



Upper School has 455 day boys and 1 1 1 boarders; the Prep, 298 day- 
boys and 56 boarders. For a few years during the early seventies the 
annual surplus turned into a deep and troublesome deficit, but strict 
economies, a more able and active finance committee, a registration fee, 
and a new philosophy that deficit financing would no longer be tolerat- 
ed, have straightened out the situation. 

The academic quality of the school has not been compromised and 
has never been better; it is now commonplace for the entire leaving 
class to go on to university or community college. Sowby had hoped for 
such a school, but numbers were not large enough for him to be very 
selective; Johnson specifically stated that university training was UCC's 
aim, an aim of which Colborne would have approved. Accompanying 
this improvement in quality has been not only the emphasis on the core 
but also continued diversity in the games and clubs programs. Debating 
has become epidemic and the school teams have done very well. Art 
and music flourish. The de-emphasis on the first teams, which Grant 
worked for in the twenties, has been accentuated by a variety in the 
sports undertaken: rowing, rugger, badminton, curling, volleyball, 
handball — whatever boys can play with some competence is encour- 

There has been a subtle change in the character of the student body. 
The growth of the enrolment has increased the number of boys from a 
wide variety of backgrounds and decreased the ratio of those from old 
Toronto families. The address list now reflects Toronto's ethnic variety 
and resembles a small United Nations. Contrary to some beliefs, the 
College is not an "Old Boys' School," nor has it been at least since the 
Second World War. In the last thirty-five years the highest percentage 
of sons of Old Boys in the Upper School has been 26 per cent. It has 
dropped as low as 9 per cent; at present it stands at 17 per cent. Fewer 
parents care about the social "prestige" attached to their sons' atten- 
dance; school events are attended not for their social value, which is 
insignificant, but because of the basic interest of the performance, cre- 
ative or athletic. This was not always so: in the twenties, when Toronto 
was smaller, UCC was seen as a centre of social activity as well as an 
elite school. 



Today administration and the student body see the word elite in a 
new light. Sadleir's message to new prefects stresses that "example is the 
essence of leadership." The elite are themselves anti-elite: the stewards 
no longer see themselves as authoritarian figures but as counsellors to 
the younger boys. At their own request their lockers are mingled with 
the younger boys', rather than grouped together and isolated. When 
students leave Upper Canada College today it is hoped that they carry 
with them, not so much a feeling of being better than others, as a feeling 
of confidence at having succeeded in a number of varied and challeng- 
ing tasks. Knowing its base in wealth, and not especially proud of it, a 
pseudo-aristocracy is making strenuous efforts to become a meritocracy. 

As the seventies draw to an end, the teaching quality at the College 
maintains its traditionally high standard; complacency about it has 
never been lower. The physical plant is, generally speaking, sound. 
Above all, relationships between board and administration, parents and 
teachers, Old Boys and friends of the school have never been healthier. 
On the occasion of its 150th anniversary Upper Canada College has 
never been more vibrant. 



Of Special Interest 


The Collegelmes 

UPPER CANADA COLLEGE has numbered among its Old Boys many 
remarkable Canadians. None is more noteworthy than John Ross 
Robertson. Robertson entered the College at the age of eight in 
1850 and then left after a term. He returned in 1854 and this time 
stayed for four years. He seemed to become involved in everything ex- 
cept academics. He was one of the first oarsmen at the school; he 
started football on the College grounds; he was the original proponent 
of the College gymnasium and in 1858 organized a tournament and 
gave prizes for proficiency in College gymnastics. At the age of seven- 
teen, he swam across the Toronto Bay. He rode the first bicycle in To- 
ronto and organized the first tournament in Grands' Riding Academy. 
In addition, he played cricket for the Wellington Cricket Club. Later in 
life he founded the Evening Telegram and the Hospital for Sick Children. 
He was an MP, he wrote Landmarks of Toronto, and he also became presi- 
dent of the Ontario Hockey Association. The greatest service which he 
rendered to ucc was in neither academics nor athletics; in 1857, before 
he was sixteen, he founded the school paper — the first in Canada — 
called The College Times. 

Early that year some College boys, among them Robertson, Edward 
M. Tiffany, King Arnoldi, and Henry Prettie, started little printing 
businesses in their homes, selling individualized, "personalized" labels 
to students to paste in their books. Business was so successful that later 
that year the boys started to discuss the possibility of a journal. The 
project was helped along by fifty dollars which Robertson had received 
from his father. The boys had skipped school to watch the Brown- 



Cameron election riot, and Robertson had been hit on the head with a 
flying piece of macadam and laid up for some time. The fifty dollars 
was a reward for survival and was promptly invested in the first College 
printing business. 

The first issue of The College Times was dated September 1857 and 
cost three cents. Robertson described it as a "two column, five-inch by 
eight-inch publication, set in longer primer type." He and his friends 
wrote the paper perched "sneaking a smoke," 1 in a large tree in the 
College grounds. It had four pages with two columns to each page. 
Robertson set the type himself, proofed and corrected it, locked it into 
primitive oak chases, and took it down to the old Globe office, where he 
had five hundred copies run off on their Washington hand press. As we 
have seen, the first issue brought Robertson into trouble because his edi- 
torial denounced the College authorities for planning to sell off some of 
the King Street frontage. Principal Stennett ordered the word "Col- 
lege" removed from the title and forbade its sale on the school grounds. 
This short-sighted move ensured the paper's success. 

In March 1858, Tiffany started the rival Boy's Own Paper, but Rob- 
ertson bought him out within six months. Robertson's paper changed its 
name again to The Boy's Times, which became bi-weekly, then weekly. 
In April 1859 it added College Growler to its masthead and carried on 
until June i860. 

On January 30, 1871, The College Times was revived and published 
on and off for eighteen months. Some years later principal John Buchan 
encouraged a third attempt, a monthly which came out from March 
1882 until some time in 1883. In 1886 one year of Volume VI appeared, 
and finally in October 1888 The College Times resumed publication and 
has continued without a break for ninety-one years. Inevitably inflation 
and other activities have taken a toll. From 1871 to 1894 the paper was 
published, sometimes bi-weekly, sometimes monthly; from 1894 to 1953 
it came out once a term; from 1954 to 1961, twice a year. Since 1962 it 
has been a spring annual. All together The College Times contains a 
remarkable record of about one hundred years of the school's history. 

The content of the paper or magazine has varied. It has depended 
somewhat upon the political climate (that is, the principal's views), 



somewhat on the availability of controversial material, but mainly on 
the character and personality of the editor. A separate volume could be 
written on the history of this great College institution, which has been 
crucial to the good health, sanity, and balance of the student body. It 
has provided interesting and challenging jobs for scores of boys; it has 
opened a forum for student opinion and for creative writing and pho- 
tography; it has told anyone who is interested what the school is all 
about. Sometimes the paper has thundered at the administration and at 
the students like a metropolitan daily; sometimes it has resembled Mad 
magazine. If the following extracts lean towards humour, it is because 
that is the thread that has linked the first volume to the last. 

The earliest issue in existence is called Volume I, Number 5 and is 
dated April 15, 1858. Robertson believed in grabbing his readers' atten- 
tion. Under the title A Gold Hunters Adventures came the first words, wor- 
thy of Hollywood: 

Fred's hand involuntarily sought his revolver, but I restrained him: 
"No firearms," I whispered, "if we shed a drop of blood we are 
doomed men. Keep cool and trust to chance." In all crowds a leader is 

After a page of this, the readers' tongues were hanging out, but like 
the old movie serials it was "to be continued" the following week. Rob- 
ertson clearly knew his stuff. Other extracts from 1857 to i860 include: 

April 15, 1859 

Our readers will remember that we made a few remarks in our first 
number about the loss the boys would sustain by the fencing off, of a 
part of the playground, for other purposes, and doubted the legality of 
appropriating a part of the play ground for any other purpose than 
that for which it was granted by the Crown. 

We are very glad indeed, at being able to inform our subscribers 
that our hint has been taken up . . . we have very little doubt that it 
will be fully investigated into. 



June I, 1858 

. . . The various Fire Companies paraded our streets, attired in their 
new uniform. We remarked sundry specimens of the fair sex particu- 
larly attracted by No. 2 Hose. They were allowed an opportunity of 
displaying their skill, by the breaking out of a fire at Mr. Ross's on 
Yonge Street. They succeeded in arresting its progress, at the sacrifice 
of their much cherished uniform. 
[Robertson himself was in No. 2 Hose.] 

We are much affected at having to record Mr. Wedd's sad bereave- 
ment of his youngest child. It died on Thursday, the 27th May, at ten 
p.m. of inflammation of the lungs, while in the arms of a lady. 

Upper Canada College was broken into by an ex-pupil of the institu- 
tion on Thursday last. He pulled down the clock, threw a long step 
ladder out of the window, entered the second classical master's room 
and demolished his desk. . . . He was labouring under a fit of delirium 
tremens at the time. 


. . . we have devoted much of our space to the College play ground. . . . 
The senate have taken up the matter, and have determined on level- 
ing the ground . . . (which) will now favourably compete with any 
other cricket ground in the province. All lovers of cricket . . . owe the 
senate a heavy debt of gratitude for their liberality. 

After Robertson left the school there may have been nobody inter- 
ested or able enough to carry on. The College had just passed through 
the difficult period of the Barron-Maynard scandal, and when Cock- 
burn arrived in 1861 he had the tremendous task of rebuilding confi- 
dence in the institution. Cockburn does not come across as a man too 
sympathetic to student participation. In any event there was no paper 
until January 187 1 , when joint editors F. W. Kerr and Len Harston 
revived it under its original name: 


Several of your schoolmates, anxious for your improvement and 



amusement, have undertaken the arduous and perilous work of carry- 
ing on a newspaper; and in making known their intention to you in 
this tangible form ask your hearty support; for on it, and on it alone, 
the success of this undertaking entirely depends. The paper will be 
essentially a College paper. Every article that will appear in these col- 
umns will be the effort of the genius of one of your schoolmates. All 
Canadian party politics will be scrupulously excluded from its col- 
umns, and it will be the aim of the Editors and the Society, under 
whose auspices the paper has been established and will be carried on, 
to make it a College paper, — a paper that will not only give full 
expression to the opinions and feelings of the boys of this institution, 
but besides this, the rising talents of any of the boys will have ample 
room for cultivation, expansion, and improvement. Again we ask you 
most earnestly to aid this new undertaking in every way in your 

The four-page paper had little College news in it except for the 
reports of the Literary and Debating Society. Lengthy articles such as 
"A Balloon Voyage from Paris" and "Life of Hannibal" filled much of 
the space, and the back page was always filled with advertising. There 
was also some comment about half-holidays or lack of them, the condi- 
tion of the playing fields, and, inevitably, cricket. At the end of the first 
six months, the co-editors celebrated their survival: 

This issue is our last. The allotted ten numbers have now been issued, 
and here is the last of the series number one of College Times, undoub- 
tedly and without question, the greatest newspaper the world has ever 
seen. The day of its publication has ever been eagerly awaited by the 
noblest and the most enlightened of the sons of men, and the distribu- 
tors of this remarkably able and influential paper, have often been 
well nigh overpowered by the eager throng that pressed around to 
receive from their magnanimous hands the paper "par excellence." 

The next year's papers were a little better, printing letters to the 
editors and a succession of bad jokes: "How many days has the year of 
its own? Three hundred and twenty-five because forty of them are 



Lent." Articles advocating the reformation of the marking system were 
printed, as were an increasing number of remarks by "A lover of crick- 
et" and "Anti-cricketer." Gradually matters of school interest increased 
in number and size, and there was a short column given over to answer- 
ing correspondents' questions on a variety of College matters. In June 
1873 me full account of a cricket match against TCS was published, 
anticipating the magazine of twenty years later. 

In 1882 T. C. S. Macklem edited the paper. In later life Macklem 
became well known as Provost of Trinity College and the man who 
accomplished its federation with the University of Toronto. Single cop- 
ies cost ten cents, a year's subscription fifty cents. 

After an interval of nearly nine years, the College Times again makes its 
appearance — excellence cannot be hidden forever. The literary spirit 
of the College lay smouldering for a long time beneath the smoking 
ruins of the paper that has to-day revived with more than a flickering 
flame; but smoke, though it may often assume shapes both pretty and 
amusing, was felt to be of too dull and gloomy a nature to suit the 
brighter intellects it was overshadowing, and the love of literature has 
at length dispelled the cloud, and resolved itself into a tangible 
form — the College Times. The pupils of the College take a lively interest 
in their new venture, and will spare no trouble to bring about the suc- 
cess they so heartily wish for. It is not, however, among the present 
pupils only that the resuscitation of the old paper meets with approval, 
but also among those of many years back, who still feel a warm inter- 
est in anything connected with "the old College" at which their 
younger days were spent so happily and with such advantage to them- 
selves. The old College Times, we are told, was eagerly read by the boys 
at the earliest opportunity and freely discussed and criticised — of 
course in the ablest manner. We hope that its present namesake may 
enjoy the same popularity, and suffer as little from adverse criticism, 
and we, for our part, will endeavour to make it deserving of such 
indulgent treatment. 

The Varsity welcomed the paper's revival with enthusiasm, claiming 
(without much foundation) that it had been suppressed in 1873 f° r 



printing articles attacking an insecure staff, who thereupon squelched 
it. The Varsity intimated that Buchan was more open to suggestion than 
Cockburn had been and "suggestions can be made fearlessly." 2 The 
principle of liberty of the press at UCC was warmly applauded by the 
university paper. 

Macklem's paper was eight pages in length with much larger type 
than its predecessors. It discussed the curriculum quite fully, com- 
mented on cricket versus baseball, and ran some articles on Old Boys. It 
also had a "Locals and Personals" column with briefs on all manner of 
things: "R. W. Y. Baldwin has gone to the North-west," "We would 
like to see the ladies' schools welcomed at games this year," "Mr. Wedd 
has been suffering from a severe cold," and so on. The Debating Society 
was reported on, and there were now two pages of advertising. 

The short-lived Volume vi, published in 1886-87, was co-edited by 
the irrepressible Stephen Leacock. Leacock's production was heartily 
praised by Garth Grafton of the Globe in March 1887, a fateful time for 
the College. 

Last comes The College Times, rejoicing on its way, full of lofty and 
overpowering criticism, ambitious and very fair poetry, holiday antici- 
pations, breathings of tennis and cricket in the near future, yet not 
without ballast in the shape of a well-considered essay of one sort or 
another. Some of the contributions are particularly clever to emanate 
from boys under sixteen, and the whole tone of the paper is a hearty, 
wholesome indication of the character of the school. Just now it is 
deeply occupied with affairs of the temporal welfare of the college, and 
the friends of that old institution may well feel encouraged in their 
efforts in its defence by the sincere and vigorous loyalty of the boys 
themselves. 3 

The following poem is one of Leacock's written in June 1887 when 
he was head boy: 

If you'll give your kind attention 
To an ode of small dimension, 



And will offer no prevention, 
You shall hear described by me, 

What a place of sin and vanity, 

Of swearing and profanity, 

And cranial inanity, 
I find in ucc. 

Of the wicked College boarders, 
Not a set of praise-the-lord-ers, 
But a herd of vile discorders, 

I would briefly mention make. 
Their pristine cheek delightful, 
Their avarice is frightful, 
Their despotism spiteful — 

With a tendency to fake. 

There is nothing equalling them 
When the steward comes to ring them 
Up, the French they use to Kingdom 

Would astonish Socrates: 
For though Greeks were vivid speakers, 
They are but as puny squeakers 
To College boys when seekers 

For their most replete Chinese. 

On the Sabbath see them reading 
Blood and thunder novels, heeding 
Not the words of holy pleading 

Levelled at the College pew. 
Should the venerable sexton 
Try to gather a collection, 
He receives a rare confection — 

Buttons, marbles, gum and glue. 


Caring not if rules are broken, 
They consider it a token 
Of felicity to smoke an 



Old cigar beside the bay; 
Or to spend a modest quarter 
For a drink of beer or porter, 
Which they know they hadn't ought'er, 

As the regulations say. 

On a morning in the summer 
There is seen the College bummer, 
To the fence a frequent comer 

Just to watch the girls go by. 
They go to Holy Trinity, 
To show their asininity 
To girls of an affinity, 

And wink upon the sly. 

They've a lofty scorn of mental 
Acquisitions: with a dental 
Word they designate the gentle 

Poems of the bards of yore. 
And they hold the Roman nation 
And the deeds of ancient Latium, 
As the fabulous creation 

And a most infernal bore. 

In conclusion be it stated, 
They are far degenerated 
From the highly antiquated 

College boys of '33, 
Who abound in stories pleasant 
(To themselves), and who incessant 
Prove they far excel the present 

Sojourners in ucc. 

In October 1888 The College Times began continuous publication. 
The editor that year was G. F. Macdonnell; he was also head boy and 
later returned as a master. The lead article describes the new Deer Park 



building, just then in its planning stages, optimistically stating that it 
and the grounds would be preferable in every way to the downtown site. 

For the next few years the editorship was always a joint one, and 
through 1893 one of the editors was also head boy. This conjunction of 
academic brilliance and writing ability was especially true in this era, 
although it was also evident down through the decades. 

In 1 89 1, the College's first Christmas at Deer Park, B. K. Sandwell 
produced some gastronomic comments: 

The boarder sat in his lonely room, 

Whence all but he were gone, 
For it was the eve of Christmas Day 

And he was left alone. 

And he thought of his friends and parents dear, 

And the boy with whom he roomed; 
For the College pudding he'd eaten that day, 

And he knew that he was doomed. 

He thought of his friends and his parents dear, 

Till his stomach began to ache, 
And he laid him down on his hard hard bed, 

And a dozen pills did take. 

And before him a vision seemed to stand, 

And a wondrous form it took; 
A bamboo staff was in its hand, 

And he dared not at it look. 

But ever it signalled, pointing on. 

Then out of the door it strode, 
(Although it was locked), and he felt compelled 

To follow it on its road. 

And on to the basement strode his guide; 

To the basement followed he. 
Then reeled — for all around the floor 

Fresh corpses did he see. 



And he saw his companions once again 
Who two days had been lost to sight, 

For a master had asked for them after three, 
And they hadn't been seen since that night. 

And some in a cauldron simmer'd near, 

And over it he did stoop; 
Then fell on the floor with a sickening thud, 

For he smelt — the College soup. 

They battered his door down next morning at eight, 

And there on the bed they found him, 
A corpse, with his face all ashen and gray, 

And the bed-clothes all around him. 

After he became editor, Sandwell found difficulty in getting his 
cohorts to write anything, a complaint shared by the eighty-odd editors 
who succeeded him. 

Has the poetic muse no devotees within these classic walls? Are there 
amongst us no budding Shakespeares, no future Tennysons? The heart 
of the editor is heavy within him, and after vainly wrestling with a six 
foot and very muscular metre for about an hour, he has come to the 
conclusion that all is vanity and vexation of spirit. A week ago occur- 
red the vernal equinox! This is spring, the poetic season of the year . . . 
not one, no not one single Spring Poem has been deposited on the edi- 
tor's desk, or fired under the editor's door. It may be that would-be cor- 
respondents are scared. If such be the case we would assure them that 
all MSS. will be treated with perfect fairness, until they reach the com- 
positors' hands. After that we decline to be responsible for their preser- 
vation intact. It cannot be that this school is in the awful condition of 
not having one poet among its three hundred students. And if that be 
not the case, we call on the bard or bards, whoever he or they may be, 
to come forward and allow the world at large to receive the benefit of 
their genius. An Easter number, and not a single Spring Poem! This is 
awful ! 



In 1894 principal Dickson reported to the Board that The College 
Times, managed entirely by the boys who had "carte blanche," was not 
always an advantage to the College. Because it published critical arti- 
cles on educational topics, it put UCC in a questionable position before 
the public. (UCC was already in a questionable position having nothing 
to do with the paper!) Dickson suggested that it change its raison d'etre 
and become a medium of communication between the school and the 
Old Boys (the OBA was three years old) and a means of advertising the 
College — in other words, an instrument of propaganda. It should be 
chiefly a record of athletic and school events with some literary contri- 
butions if possible. It could be written by boys, but had to be approved 
by the masters, with a master as editor. After consultation with the Old 
Boys' Association, the first issue under the new system appeared in 
December 1894, with the indefatigable A. A. Macdonald as editor, and 
the six stewards plus three other senior boys listed as school editors. The 
paper was under the patronage of the oba and sported a natty blue- 
and-white cover. From this time, the word "College" in the title was 
intended to include every man or boy who had entered the school. The 
publication stated two objectives: accounts of school life and all inter- 
esting news about Old Boys. Special correspondents would send in let- 
ters; articles and reminiscences would be contributed by Old Boys. The 
College Times was now an arm of the school administration and the new 
1894 Board of Governors. 

In the late nineties a different emphasis began to appear, with enor- 
mous space reserved for all inter-school games, but especially the first 
team results. In the summer of 1897, for example, over twenty-three 
pages were given over to cricket matches. Attempts at humour tended 
to be heavy. Perhaps with the College fighting for its life, there was no 
time or energy left for wit. 

The poetry dealt with examinations or games: 

Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife 
The umpire oft has made a swift bee line, 
What time they clamoured for the caitiffs life 
Who shut the gates of justice on their nine. 



In many a hopeless contest bravely fought, 
The dark, unfathomed curve has laid them low; 
Full many a fly has soared to fall uncaught, 
And swell the score of the detested foe. 

The boast of batting and of pitching power, 

The fame and glory of victorious clubs, 

Await, alike, vicissitude's dark hour 

And this year's champions may be next year's scrubs. 

A euclidean definition of football in 1899 included "A College wing- 
line has position, and it has length and breadth, but neither combina- 
tion nor swiftness" and "A referee is a thing of which no decision is 

In 1 90 1 The Man from Glengarry by Ralph Connor was reviewed and 
described "as a stimulus to all that is noble and true and strong." The 
book was a best-seller and of great interest at UCC because Connor (the 
Reverend Charles Gordon) had taught at the school. 

The College Times during the early years of the century were charac- 
terized by a large number of quotations from Robert Louis Stevenson, 
Ruskin, Browning, and other English writers. There was also much ref- 
erence to Christianity and the values attached to it. In 1904 an article 
appeared recommending that English youth be sent to Canada for their 
secondary education in order to prepare themselves for a career in this 
country. Implicit was the idea that UCC should be their destination. 
This concept was picked up in England, possibly by Parkin; the English 
press, including The Times, expressed their approval. Love for England 
shone through issue after issue. In Makers of Canada K. S. Macdonnell 
wrote of how Canada had "gone from strength to strength commercial- 
ly, religiously, imperially" and of "the names of those who have lived 
and died for King and country." The article ended with a quote from 

The seriousness of life was even felt by the Prep boys, one of whom 
named Kirkpatrick wrote this tearful poem in 1906: 




O Prep.! to mem'ry and to learning dear, 

Place of my earliest happiness and fear, 

Of early recollections the most sweet, 

When first my eyes those lofty halls did greet. 

Place where I first beheld the dreaded cane, 

And felt its blow with counterfeited pain, 

Where first I met my master's angry eye, 

When terror flushed my face and made me cry. 

Full well remember I that blessed time, 

When in a first form desk did I recline, 

And then my second year went by so fast, 

The third is o'er and I'm to go at last. 

Oh Prep. ! the days have come when I must leave, 

Time and his sickle now us two will cleave. 

From 1906 to 1908 the stewards were the editors, and humour crept 
back into the magazine's pages: 

Goodnight, Sweetheart. Your father's silhouette 

I see upon the window-blind. To part 
Is pain, but ah, I recollect his threat! 

Goodnight, Sweetheart! 
Alas, he knows the pugilistic art 
And so 'twere greater pain to meet him, pet, 

For with his fists and feet he's rather smart. 
Just hark, he hurls at me an epithet 

That makes my blood run cold. I think I'll start 
At once. No time to light a cigarette! 
Goodnight, Sweetheart! 


If one of the gentlemen should drop a raw oyster into his bosom, and 
he should have trouble in fishing it out, do not make facetious remarks 
about it, but assist him to find it, laughing heartily all the time. 




We do not vouch for the truth, scientifically, of the following equation 
handed in to us. Independent investigation is, however, invited from 

Boy + H 2 so 4 + match = H 2 so 4 - Boy. 


The sun never sets on British possessions because the sun sets in the 
west and our colonies are in the north, south and east. 



Here lies the body of Mrs. Jane Lowder: 
She burst while drinking a seidlitz powder; 
Called from this world to her heavenly rest, 
She should have waited till it effervesced. 

In 1909 the editorship reverted to an individual student, in this case, 
the head boy, David A. Keys, later to achieve fame as a Canadian sci- 
entist. Keys brightened his issues with articles such as "The Light Side 
of Mathematics" in which he proved that 5 = 4 and ended with the fol- 
lowing example: 

If Caesar had left one dollar for Antony to deposit in a bank paying 
three per cent interest compounded yearly it would have amounted by 
the year 1910 to about $10,260 followed by 21 zeroes. This same 
amount at simple interest would only have increased to $59.62. 

The first day of the school year in 191 1 was rapturously dealt with 
by editor R. B. Gibson: 

The day wears on — how long the first day seems! At length the gong 
sounds twice, the signal of our freedom. Soon we make a great 
discovery — a sight that thrills us with delight. There in very truth is 
the new addition to the swimming-bath in course of completion. The 
tank is twenty feet longer, making a total length of fifty feet. It has 



since been beautifully equipped with shower-baths, diving-tower and 
electric lights. All this we owe to the grand munificence of an Old Boy, 
who with true magnanimity desires to remain anonymous. Our grati- 
tude to him knows no bounds. May he long continue to guide the des- 
tinies of his good old College! 

A minor catastrophe in 191 3 elicited yet more poetry: 


(A kitchen chimney was 

blown down at Upper Canada College 

in yesterday's gale. — Morning Paper.) 

Haifa ton, half a ton, 
Haifa ton downward 
Came through the kitchen-roof, 
Chimney pots and other stuff, 

Smashing tiles and plate-rack. 
Lay resting on the top, 
Lay threatening to drop, 
Threatening our oven, 

The rest of the chimney-stack. 

Engineer and janitor 
Vied with the gardener, 
Stibbert with crowbar, 
George working like a horse, 
The Dean on the spot — of course, 

Could any work harder? 
Wright on the ladder stands, 
What but their busy hands 

Can save our larder? 

Here! make the rope tight! 
Won't you get the team, Wright? 
No, here are boys to pull, 
Boys from the Hospital. 



How the wind rumbled! 
Haifa mo', now she'll go! 
Ready now a score or so! 
Heave ho, Yeo ho! Yeo ho! 

Down they all tumbled. 

Somehow they got it off, 
Forty cubic feet of tough 

Masonry and other wrack. 
Then after all the din 
Suddenly arose a tin, 

Temporary smoke-stack. 

During the First World War The College Times was virtually monop- 
olized by news of Old Boys. All those killed, wounded, or decorated 
were mentioned, sometimes at great length and often accompanied by 
photographs. The school community was made fully aware of every- 
thing that the masters and ex-pupils were doing in the great struggle. 

When the war ended, normality returned, and we find in 19 19 the 
Ten Commandments revised by G. S. Cunliffe: 

(Revised to suit the requirements qfucc) 

1 I am thy Headmaster; thou hast not to obey any other Principal 
but me. 

2 Thou shalt not draw in school hours caricatures of thy Schoolmas- 
ter, nor any drawing of anyone in authority over thee; for I, thy 
Headmaster, am a watchful man, and will visit thy sins upon thee; 
yea, even unto the extent of a good walloping. 

3 Thou shalt not mimic me behind my back; for I shall severely cast- 
igate anyone who mocketh me. 

4 Remember to walk circumspectly on week days. Five days shalt 
thou keep off the flats, and not go out of bounds; but the sixth and 
seventh days are holidays, and thou mayest go whithersoever thou 



wilt. In them thou mayest go on the flats and out of bounds, or to a 
movie show; but thou mayest not turn thy footsteps towards a 
poolroom; for if thou art espied by a Prefect, severe chastisement 
will be thy lot. 

5 Respect thy Principal and all thy Masters, that thy days may be 
long in the school wherein thy parents have placed thee. 

6 Thou shalt not apparently attempt to murder any of thy comrades 
when thou are scrapping with them. 

7 Thou shalt not adulterate the tea or coffee of the person next to 
thee at meals with mustard; nor shalt thou put salt in his water. 

8 Thou shalt not steal thy room-mate's soap. 

9 Thou shalt not try to get thy neighbour into trouble with the Pre- 

io Thou shalt not covet thy room-mate's razor, nor his slippers, nor 
his ties, nor his brilliantine, nor anything that reposes in his half of 
the room. 

The College of the twenties was a lively place and the magazine 
blossomed under some spirited and able editors. In 1927 a satirical arti- 
cle hinted that Bishop Strachan, not Colborne, had been responsible 
for the founding of UCC. Under the headlines "Scandal in School 
History — U.C.C. may not have won Waterloo," the article stated: 

If Lord Seaton was not our founder, then we are not responsible for 
the winning of the famous battle of Waterloo. In that case, what will 
we tell the next Governor General when we're telling him who we are. 
It has been suggested by some (we hope it is with no ulterior 
motive other than the advancement of education) that since Bishop 
Strachan founded the college the two schools founded by him in the 
Hill District should be joined and made co-educational. We feel sure 
that this suggestion will find much approval among the educated 
scholars at Upper Canada. 



The continuing influence of the classics was apparent in this 1928 
anonymous piece featuring D. M. Dewar: 


( Written, not by Homer, but by another man of the same name.) 

Then did fleet-skated So-and-so strike the rounded rubber with his 
well-wrought stick, so that it went straight for the well-netted goal of 
the College. It struck it, nor did it miss, and would have entered, had 
not keen-eyed Baker interposed his good ashen stick, and stopped it, so 
that it glanced afar off. Then did much-weighing Dewar obtain the 
rounded puck, and would have scored a goal, but grey-eyed Athene 
appeared in the guise of May. 

Then said Dewar in his heart and mind: "Surely it is better to pass 
the black disc to May, nor try to score goals every time." 

Thus thinking, he passed the puck, but owl-faced Athene van- 
ished, nor was she still present. Then, by using his fleet skates, he man- 
aged to again obtain possession of the coveted caout-chouc, but at this 
moment Such-and-Such introduced his good ashen stick between his 
well-wrought skates, so that his knees were loosed, and he fell in the 
powdery snow. 

Now came the blear-eyed Referee to him, saying, "Truly hast 
thou attempted to snatch away that good stick with thy cheating 
skates: therefore get thee off the ice for the period of five minutes, nei- 
ther return before the time is up." 

Then was glorious Dewar wrath, and he cried out, spoke a word, 
and uttered it aloud: "Verily is this game framed, nor is it fairly 
played. For not only has keen-eyed Athene utterly deceived me, but 
the diagonally-seeing Referee is making it worse. Surely I will refrain 
from playing this game longer. Let the faint-seeing Referee and the 
whole team go to the House of Hades." 

Thus he spoke, and went to the well-builded dressing room, and 
there was no comfort for him, nor did he cease from his grief. 

Glorious, wrathful Dewar spent many years teaching at Appleby 
College in Oakville. 

Poetry continued throughout the twenties to be a popular mode of 



expression. Most of the poems printed were based on the work of a well- 
known author and were on any subject under the sun, from shaving to 
rat funerals. 


There are poets who write, 

There are poets who rave, 
There are poems of love 

And odes to the grave; 
But there isn't a poet 

Who sings of the shave, 

Who sings of the shave 
In the morning. 

So I have decided 

To take up the pen 
And ere the day passes, 

To furnish all men 
With a song they can sing 

At the dead hour often, 

At the dead hour often 
In the morning. 

It tells of a youth 

Who went out every night 
To low dancing halls. 

And often got tight, 
And looked fine after dark; 

But oh, what a sight, 

But oh, what a sight 
In the morning. 

It tells how one day 

He reeled from his bed 
At the dead hour ten, 

With a terrible head, 
And a feeling that made him 

Just wish, he was dead, 



Just wish he was dead 
In the morning. 

How he felt on his face 

A hard three days' growth; 

And cursed all the Greeks 
With a terrible oath, 

And vowed that the shave 
Was one thing to loath 
Was one thing to loath 
In the morning. 

He sharpened his razor 
To language profane, 

He looked in the mirror, 
Thought living was vain. 

He let out a curse, 
Cut his jugular vein, 
Cut his jugular vein 
In the morning. 

He was buried with pomp 

In a wonderful grave, 
And thousands of men 
Have resolved to behave 
Like our hero who gladly 
Died rather than shave, 
Died rather than shave 
In the morning. 

Not a drum was heard, not a bugle note, 
As we through the Prayer Hall hurried, 

Only we left him to lie there and rot 

In the grave where our rodent we buried. 

We buried him darkly at dead of night 
The board with our bayonets lifting, 
By the struggling ray of the all-night light 



And the moonlight through window-pane sifting. 

No useless coffin enclosed his breast, 

Nor in handkerchief we wound him. 
But he lay there, the bottom-flat rat in his rest 

With his mangy fur coat all around him. 

Few and odd were the prayers we said. 

And we spoke not a word of sorrow; 
But we shoved down the board on the face that was dead 

As we joyfully thought of the morrow. 

We thought as we trampled his hollow bed 

And smoothed down the lonely lumber 
That the boys and the masters would tread o'er his head 

And disturb his remains in their slumber. 

Sorely they'll talk of "indefinable something" 

And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, 
But little he'll reek if they let him sleep on 

'Neath the dais where once we all laid him. 

Swiftly and gladly we laid him down 

From the fiat of his fame, fresh and gory; 

The sickle of Death has right mightily mown 
And thus endeth the flat-rodent's story. 


The College Times was not simply an outlet for humour. Serious sub- 
jects came under the eye of the editor and his colleagues. In 1923 the 
following appeared: 

Patriotism, that is visible patriotism, is essentially good manners. Just 
as there are many people who mean to do the right thing and yet are 
extremely awkward at a social function; so there are many people 
who, though they have a genuine loyalty to their country, yet either 
do not know how to show their patriotism, or do not show it on 
account of laziness, or shyness. 

When, after a theatre performance "God Save the King" is 



played, the majority stand up after a fashion: that is to say, they do 
not remain sitting. They rise to their feet only to bend down again and 
start fumbling with coat and hat. A few stand to attention, but often 
are the objects of giggles, or scorn. It is neither amusing nor shameful 
to stand at attention. It is a sign that that person is loyal to King and 
Country and knows the proper way to show it. The male audience is 
usually more particular about this than the ladies, of whom only a 
very small minority stand still. Often a man will start well, but when 
he sees the lady with him struggling with her coat, manners force him 
to help her. The lack of "external partiotism" on the part of the ladies 
is probably due to lack of any kind of military training, although the 
popularity of the "girl guides" will soon make this but an excuse. 

A less widely known sign of loyalty is the lifting of the hat to the 
colours of a regiment or company. We saw from the ranks of the Rifle 
Company that the majority of onlookers either did not know of, or 
care about this act. It is a mark of respect in this case to King, Coun- 
try and Company. If anyone knows this, and still does not lift his hat it 
is an insult to the Empire as a whole. 

About a year ago there was a poster put up in the College 
hall: — "How to Honour the Flag." How many boys read that, and of 
those how many remember anything about it? Probably very few. 

There is not a boy at the College that would admit he is unpatriot- 
ic, but there are those who do not take the trouble to show that patri- 
otism. It is as fine a thing now to be a member of the British Empire, 
as it was in the time of St. Paul to be able to say "I am a Roman Citi- 
zen!" We are proud, and justly proud of being Canadians, and it is by 
small things that we can prove ourselves proud of our Country and 

The same issue carried an article on Canadian literature bewailing 
the very small sale of Canadian authors and blaming it on Canadians, 
who as a nation were not readers. The editor urged his readers to spend 
their Christmas money on books. 

In the mid twenties Lionel Gelber wrote two articles of a very high 
intellectual calibre on a Boys' Parliament and on Canada's problems. 
The latter is worth recording in full over fifty years later. 



By L.M.G. 
What is the matter with Canada? This is a question which is bother- 
ing thinking people; a question crying for solution. Luckily not a voice 
in the wilderness, but an apparent indication that there is something 
amiss. However, there are, to every condition in all branches of 
human affairs, causes immediate and remote which must be placed in 
proper perspective before a clear view is to be obtained. But some are 
not so cautious. 

What is the matter with Canada? Demagogues answer it; politi- 
cians exult in it; officious nobodies pass judgment on it. We must 
accept their solutions or, according to them, at the border may be 
erected a sign warning newcomers to abandon all hope as they enter 
here. But there is no solution for Canada's troubles on narrow political 
lines. One or another doctrinaire economic theory will not suffice. No 
one ambitious political party can succeed where its predecessors have 

What is the matter with Canada? As one hears the query put forth 
a picture rises in one's mind: there are the orators (or editors) perspir- 
ing in the heat of their virtuous labors to strike a sombre note of immi- 
nent ruin. There are the stage-whispers of death amplified into a 
strident roar of self-centred striving. Yet never have lamentations been 
uttered with such a roseate glow on the speaker's countenance; never 
have jeremiads seemed to trail off unending in this way before. For the 
speaker always leaves the impression that he has another card up his 
sleeve. And it is precisely so, because that card is a joker on which is 
written his own political programme. The present spells disaster; his 
party in power or his solution being applied connotes infinite success. 

This, then, is what is wrong with Canada: she is the inarticulate 
pawn in a selfish political game. It is that accentuating of the villainies 
on one side and the embellishing the fair graces of the other in an 
unscrupulous drama that leaves a bitter taste. Yet it is Canada's mod- 
ern history. 

Must it always be so? The answer is, No — with reservations. It will 
be so until Canadians wake up. There is held in this country an 
appallingly low standard of duty towards society and humanity — and 
even that grasped but lightly. Public service has lost its meaning in the 



mazes of philanthropy instead of great national issues. Canadians are 
not thinking politically. Canadians are not working for national unity 
along national lines. The youth foremost in national duty in Europe 
and elsewhere, as for example, Mazzini's Association of Young Italy 
during the nineteenth century or the present-day Jewish pioneers in 
Palestine, is asleep to that which everywhere evokes the best feelings 
among the younger generation. There is widespread in Canada not 
only an economic depression quite liable to a speedy improvement, 
but there is a mental depression which will take years of constructive 
education to remedy. At present Canada is in danger of becoming a 
Babbit nation: her main streets must become Parliament Hills. 

To every problem of moment there are solutions that are of pass- 
ing but of immediate effect and others which, coming slower, prove to 
be of permanent value. But to suggest an approach there must come a 
new train of thought and attitude. One resolving itself into a new faith 
and a new spirit. This must be the common bond. Canada is greater 
than any single party, formula, theory, or group. What is needed is 
determination, not criticism; an infusion of liberal ideals, not polem- 

The drowsy-headed citizen is Canada's problem. For there are 
only those destructive forces working for the disintegration of the 
country which a lack of public spirit and a firm, not indifferent, 
resolve permits to exist. 

This is no hour to temporize or to tarry. Let us no longer inquire 
what is the matter with Canada, but with conviction not unmingled 
with tolerance answer that the great need is a sincere determination 
by every one to shoulder his share of the burden. Let there be spread 
abroad the seeds of a new faith and a new spirit. 

The influence of radio was being felt in the mid twenties, and there 
was even a preview of television. The year 1926 brought a paragraph or 
two of praise for that long-time Canadian institution Foster Hewitt: 

When you sit by your warm fire, smoking snugly, and hear, through 
the Radio, a Rugby, Hockey or Baseball game, told so that you feel as 
if you were right there, fighting with your team, catching — or 
fumbling — each kick, checking, we hope, each rush and pitching each 



ball, remember the poor announcer, hanging, perhaps, by a rope, like 
a little spider by its web, on the roof of the Richardson stadium. 
Remember, too, that the poor announcer, or rather, the good 
announcer, is a UCC Old Boy. You would soon have remembered, if 
you were listening to the last McGill-Varsity game. Then you would 
have heard him say, "There goes Chief David the old Upper Canada 
man. He's played a good game." And Foster is playing a good game, 
too. He is doing a hard job, — just try to follow a hockey play by play 
and try to tell a stupid microphone all about it, as fast, accurately and 
vividly, as Foster does! He is playing one of the biggest parts in Radio 
in Canada. What if it is cold! Good old Foster, we'll take up still 
another subscription among the Old Boys to get you a sleeping cell in 
the cold storage plant, so that you can feel at home at night! 

George F. Moss reported at great length on the first practical dem- 
onstration of television on April 7, 1927. After speculating on different 
aspects of this new wonder Moss concluded: 

In the near future, we hope to be able to have a ringside seat at the 
boxing matches, to be "right up" on the football games; and enjoy art, 
sculpture, and plays from television studios. At present we can only see 
a stationary object, but a system has already been devised in the the- 
ory for the picturing of moving objects. How it will work still remains 
to be seen. 

As soon as television is used by the telephone companies, the news- 
papers will want to share in the discovery. The present billboards will 
most likely consist of television screens, showing news events as they 
happen. In time of war, aeroplanes will be equipped with televisors. 
No doubt later, the acme of television will be reached; namely, pic- 
tures in colour. 

In peace and in war, in business and in pleasure, this new power 
over natural forces will doubtless take its place among that host of new 
discoveries which go to make up our so-called civilization. 

In fact, although it may seem fantastic at the moment to picture 
this new development as an ordinary factor in the life of a business 
man, very probably in a few year's time, it may seem even more fan- 



tastic to our children that business could ever have been successfully 
carried on without the aid of television. 

An interesting counterpoint to Moss's description of television was a 
report that three Old Boys — W. H. Van Der Smissen, Pelham Edgar, 
and Frederic Davidson — had all just published important books: a 
translation of Faust, a biography of Henry James, and a French novel. 
The College Times took great pride in these accomplishments, which hon- 
oured the school. 

The thirties ushered in an era of good-humoured criticism of almost 
everything, probably brought on by economic conditions. A letter 
printed in 1931 might have been written forty-five years later: 

To the Editor of The College Times. 

Dear Sir: 

Can you afford space in your magazine for a sincere criticism of pres- 
ent radio broadcasting. 

Yesterday at dinner time I was sipping soup to the strains of a 
famous orchestra. The music stopped. A voice bellowed "Dr. East's 
tooth brushes for mamma, papa, sonnie, sissie." Then again, how 
could I enjoy my steak after hearing that Dr. Pullem, noted dentists, 
extracted teeth by a new, painless method? Such charming dinner gos- 

The other day the Pope broadcasted from Rome. Before the 
strains of the last hymn died away a voice from another world burst in. 
"Have you all heard of the permanent wave bargained at the Variety 
Beauty Shoppe. ..." There was not even so much as a pause between 
the hymn and the voice of the announcer. 

Last Sunday the church service was barely over when an 
announcer cut in with, "Mr. Fish has everything in his shop that 
swims." And what has the news that "our old friend, Mr. McGinnis, 
will haul cinders and ashes to any part of the city," to do with a Sun- 
day service? 

Surely there must be a remedy to this state of affairs. 
Your obedient servant, 
A. McP. 



The school itself came in for a seaching look. G. S. Maclean, a for- 
mer editor, wrote in complaining about sloppy College dress, moth- 
eaten masters' gowns, the hatless cult, the plethora of College ties and 
sweaters, too much smoking, and too much emphasis on inter-house 
games. Traditions were important to Maclean, as were games victories. 
The first-team spirit of 189 1 was still alive among some Old Boys. 

J. A. Romeyn, the editor, had some interesting comments about the 
College. Romeyn wanted both The College Times and the clubs repre- 
sented on the Board of Stewards; he thought the library administration 
was grossly mishandled; he thought there was a general listlessness in 
morning prayers. Romeyn's successor, Robertson Davies, continued to 
snipe politely at College customs. The school had eight official ties, with 
the exception of one, all ugly. Furthermore the College needed some 
new yells; the locomotive and the whistler had been done to death. 
Davies asked, "Cannot this, the oldest school in Canada, produce some 
apostle of the Higher Art of the College Yell?" 

Davies's successor, G. H. Robertson, poked gentle humour at the 
ancient tradition of initiating new boys: 


We regret to report the outbreak of a new disease at the College; we 
might call it Newboyitis. Like most "new" diseases, its novelty is 
chiefly in its name and diagnosis. For some time those who have been 
in the school for more than two years (usually referred to as "old 
boys") have considered it their duty to inflict minor indignities upon 
the "new boys." The earlier forms of this disease might be called para- 

These rather barbaric customs were probably the result of the old- 
boys not having enough to do. Therefore, they occupied themselves in 
giving vent to the desire, natural in all young humans, to amuse them- 
selves at the expense of others. The days of enforced inactivity for 
school-boys are gone. If anything, there is too much to be done. But 
still the disease of "suppressing the new-boys" lingers on. Only this 
term we heard of some zealot who proposed that new-boys be made to 
run across the quandrangle, in obvious imitation of some of our penal 



and military institutions. Fortunately this stirred up little more than 
laughter among those in authority. 

The only reason advanced in defence of this "suppression" is that 
it inspires in the heart of the novice a respect for the old-boys, who are, 
supposedly, imbued with the spirit of leadership and of wisdom. We do 
not suggest that this respect is not wholesome. We merely assert that it 
should be inspired by the actual example of the old-boys themselves 
and not enforced by an archaic system of laws and customs. "These 
new-boys are altogether too fresh," we have heard said many a time 
and oft. While admitting the undesirability of freshness among the 
new-boys, we question the efficiency of the traditional purge. 

Ties continued to agitate the school, though they were dealt with 
sardonically by J. S. Boeckh in 1934: 

But aren't the school ties to identify the wearer with the school (Clause 
98, Sub-Section c of the school rules)? If this does not hold true any 
longer why not let everybody wear whatever tie they like? This surely 
would not lead to any sameness in ties! In fact one would find over 300 
different ties ranging in pattern from polka dots (large) to chocolate 
bears (small), and in colour from crimson and yellow to claret and 

There is one thing for which to be extremely thankful and that is 
the question has at last been decided. Our praises are bestowed upon 
the tie committee for the steadfast way they have remained true to 
their beliefs in the midst of such strenuous and even alliterate heckling 
as this. 

A letter to the editor in 1934 identified a problem which has been 
alive ever since the school began. Signed "Yours, in this regard, Nazi," 
it deals with litter: 

I have seen Golder's Green after a Bank Holiday. I have seen the 
Canadian National Exhibition after Children's Day. Unpleasant 
sights. Almost equally unpleasant, and much less excusable, is that 
carpet of litter, which covers the College grounds on every day of the 
week, throughout the whole year. 



I am told that in Germany a fine of a mark is imposed on anybody 
seen dropping paper on the streets. I would suggest that the Board of 
Stewards and the House Prefects be armed with a similar disciplinary 
power and that they should inflict a fine of five cents on our litter- 
mongers for each offence. 

In case of Masters casting exercise books from class room windows, 
the fine should be five cents for each page. 

W. L. Grant's policy of introducing the boys to an incredible range 
of guest speakers resulted in this in 1934: 

It has been said that zeal is like a fire, "it needeth both feeding and 
watching." If the converse of this proposition is true, the Oxford 
Group Movement must be the very incarnation of zeal for it is copi- 
ously fed (in more senses than one) and it is certainly watched. 

To make any attempt to sum up the "effect" produced on the 
school by the ten members of the "International Team" which tackled 
us on Friday, May fourth would be impossible. We heard the sound of 
the cornet, flute, harp, sachbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of 
music. But we were not moved (most of us) to fall down before the 
idols which Frankbuchman the King has set up. Perhaps to those of 
tender years who have not sinned richly or lived dangerously, the 
Oxford Movement can mean little. Indeed unless one has lived an 
utterly futile and blase life for a number of years or pinched a hand- 
kerchief in some moment of unthinkable abandon, one does not feel 
the need of the solace of a changed life, — even though the change be 
ever so quick. 

Most of the speakers talked about themselves and it probably did 
them a lot of good. Some of them talked about God and He didn't 
seem to mind. And about changing people's lives, almost over night, it 
seemed. Others told how quickly and completely they had "found 
themselves" on joining the Group and we remembered something 
about forty days in the wilderness and wondered if the happy converts 
would soon by crying "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani." 

In 1935 a letter was written to the editor about a proposed League 



of Nations Society. This development was strongly influenced by Grant 
and anticipated MacDermot's arrival: 

One thing must be made plain; our group takes no stand on the sub- 
ject of the Rifle Battalion. Several of our members are active workers 
in that organization. I myself do not agree with the bayonet practice, 
but, apart from that, I have no conscientious objections to it. 

What will the group try to do in the school. First it will discuss a 
long study course carefully drawn up which deals with every factor 
pertaining to peace and war in the world. Second, it will bring promi- 
nent speakers and thinkers to the College. Third, it will keep the 
League of Nations before the eyes of the school and in this way it will 
try and interest UCC in the cause of international goodwill. 

This ideal is a worthy one; one for which everybody should be 
ready to work. It is an ideal for which one must be prepared to give up 
something. Each country will have to give up something. Each coun- 
try will have to give up some of its pride. Each individual must be 
ready to give up some of his wealth. No ideal can ever succeed unless 
one is ready to sacrifice much personal comfort for its realization. 

In the autumn of that year MacDermot placed a modern sculpture 
by Elizabeth Wyn Wood on display in the front hall. It was a typical 
and highly successful attempt by MacDermot to get the boys to think. 
The College Times devoted to this daring move several pages which con- 
tained a good deal of varied comment from the senior boys. 

. . . could not "Reef and Rainbow" just as well have been named "Reef 
in Wool's Clothing"? — Anon. 

... a feeble attempt to reproduce nature — A. E. Williamson. 

The Philistine replies that this kind of cloud would never blot out the 
end of the rainbow. Who cares? — G. Grant. 

What is the rainbow doing around the reef? — M. Clarkson. 

. . . the Reef and Rainbow ... is merely a waste of good tin — K. W. 



The steward system came in for some discussion and criticism in the 
mid thirties. Stewards had always been appointed because they held a 
particular office. When a boy held more than one office, there was a 
vacancy on the Board of Stewards. On two occasions such a vacancy 
was filled by another worthy boy. Upholders of tradition objected to 
this procedure and made themselves known by long letters to the editor. 
(The only purpose of more stewards was evidently to hold the prayer 
hall in subjection after the principal had left.) Suggestions for reform 
were made which were eventually adopted many years later. The blaz- 
er, white with wide blue lapels and blue trim, also came in for odium: it 
was "the cynosure of everyone's eye — But so is the uniform of the door 
man at the Park Plaza." 

In order to encourage literary activity, an extra issue called In 
Between Times came out in the thirties. It produced some excellent mate- 
rial to which J. V. McAree's column in the Mail and Empire in March 
1936 bears witness: 

We offer our hearty congratulations to Upper Canada College for the 
production of In Between Times, a collection of verses, articles, parodies 
and illustrations that combine to make the brightest thing that has 
come off a Canadian press in many a day. If this represents the work 
of boys not more than 18 years old, it is surely time that we, the elder 
generation, applied for our old-age pensions. The youngsters out-class 
us 4 

As mentioned before, in the spring of 1939 MacDermot introduced 
yet another new idea — an annual gift to the College from the leaving 
class. The magazine welcomed the innovation: 

To a surprised Leaving Class a few weeks before end of term, Princi- 
pal MacDermot unfolded a plan for an annual gift to be presented to 
the College by the Leaving Class. Backs bristled. Up shot one of the 
class to voice the objections of the whole class. The proposal that the 
gift be a picture didn't appeal because — well, because he thought the 
money should go into something useful for the school, even a building 



scheme. Visions of the class returning to gaze fondly at a tackling 
dummy or 467 bricks in the side of a wall flashed through our mind. 
Chief unvoiced objections were: (1) that the idea was new and there- 
fore, ipso facto, wrong; (2) that each boy would have to disgorge about 
$1.50. To us the idea seemed excellent. That each Leaving Class 
should leave something of value to the School is a worthy thought. In 
time, the College should have a very fine collection of Canadian 

And luckily poetry was still being written. This one by I von Owen, 
himself as editor, was published in 1938: 

Oh Editor! my Editor! our fortnight's race is run! 
You've chased me for a contribution and of course you've won; 
But ah, my boy, forget your joy and stop your gay exulting; 
You think you have outwitted me and fiendishly are laughing. 
But O ha! ha! ha! O these hideous drops of ink! 

You say, "of course it's printable?" 

But that is what you think! 

O Editor! my Editor! rise up from where you lie; 

Rise up — I know you've had a shock, but never you say die. 

You've only read one verse so far — there's no need to be shrinking, 

O — come to think — we're half way through the second — now he's 


Here driver! Slave-driver! Keep calm, I've caught your head . . . 

I knew 'twas bad, but didn't know 

'Twas bad as this — he's dead! 

In 1940 the Old Boys' Association decided to drop out of The College 
Times and publish their own magazine, which they called Old Times. 
One of the motives must have been to keep track of and report on the 
Old Boys in active service, a task the College magazine could not do. 
Old Times promptly took on a separate identity and is still published 
three times a year. 

Although the war touched everyone, some things continued 



unchanged. For example, in 1940 this appeared under the heading 
"Crazes of the Prep": 

In the school year there are many crazes which I will try to name and 
explain a little about. There are three seasons in the school year and 
each one has its crazes. 

In the fall we have acorn tops, conkers and handkerchief fights. 
The acorn tops consist of an acorn with a matchstick stuck in the top, 
and are spun between the pointer finger and thumb. They are very 
silent and so are often spun in class. A conker is merely a chestnut on 
the end of a string. The idea is to break the other fellow's by hitting his 
with your own. When one is broken the breaker becomes a twoer and 
fights again. If he broke a five he would become a sevener and this 
lasts until the chestnut season is over. The handkerchief fights are 
fought with handkerchiefs folded a certain way. 

In the winter, snowball fights are the main things. Often the Col- 
lege and Prep have fights after lunch, in which the Prep usually loses. 

In the spring, even before the snow is off the ground, comes the 
longest of all crazes — the alley craze. As alleys are six for a cent, every- 
one is well supplied; there are many ways of winning and losing alleys. 
For instance, there is pot, straight shooting, and the alleyboard. This 
last is probably the worst because it is the greatest temptation. Such 
are the crazes of the Prep. 

There were changes, too. In 1942 there was a new rule forbidding 
boys to carve their names in the Prayer Hall benches. The College Times 
took umbrage, claiming that old, famous schools ought to have initials 
of students all over the place: "For the sake of posterity it would be a 
great pity if we were to be deprived of admiring in after years the ini- 
tials of some 'mute inglorious Milton' now lost in the obscurity of IC." 

There was a call that same year for more religion in the school 
— classroom time when the younger boys could learn the basis of Chris- 
tian faith and study periods in which the older boys could discuss 
religion. The war was hitting home. The boys were not shielded from it. 
Fathers and brothers were at risk every day. So, for that matter were 




Blow, wind in the tower, 

As you blew three years ago, 
And sing in the tower as you used to sing 

To the friend I used to know. 

Let there still be games in the fields 

Where he played three years ago; 
And the games will go on, though the memory pass 

Of the friend I used to know. 

These halls are little changed 

From the halls he used to tread. 
But these faces are theirs who cannot know 

What it means that he is dead. 

Yet I cannot tread the fields, 

Or the halls he used to tread. 
But I think he still is watching me. 

My mentor who is dead. 

I shall have other friends, 

And I shall know grief again: 
But never a friend like this one dead, 

O, such bewildering pain. 


The English war refugees were still at the school in 1942, although 
some of the older ones were starting to drift back home. An English 
father wrote about his feelings, which were probably shared by all the 
families whose sons came to Canada. 

I still think that the decision to try to get my son home this year is a 
right one, but let there be no mistake about our feelings, his and mine. 
We bless the day that sent him to Canada: we bless the beauteous 
land where he has received health, strength, education and kindness 
beyond all computation. It was right that he should come. 



The ties that bound Canada to England were never stronger than in 
the early forties, but the editor of 1942, E. A. McCulloch, was express- 
ing a firm Canadian view in commenting on a clothing decree issued by 
the principal in the spring of that year: 

... the original spirit behind the decree is still alive, the spirit of imitat- 
ing the English Public School, and its stiff Victorian ideas about the 
qualifications of a gentleman. Upper Canada College is in Canada, a 
comparatively new country, where everyone who is engaged in busi- 
ness and who is not a member of the Church of England is not neces- 
sarily no gentleman, and in the same way, we have our own ideas 
about dress. Our clothes have been designed to some extent to fit a 
Canadian climate. In what way is a neat wide collared shirt, coloured 
to match the coat with which it is worn, and cool and comfortable in 
this hot weather, inferior to any white shirt, with tie or without? Cer- 
tainly, after a few days of wear, apparently spotless, it is vastly supe- 
rior to a slightly soiled and very crumpled white shirt, especially if the 
latter has a very dirty piece of coloured rag tied loosely and sloppily 
about the neck. And this is as good a time as any to be saving on laun- 
dry bills and labour. But the question of dress is just a part of the big 
effort to be like the English. Let the school stop trying to force a neo- 
anglicanism on its students; let it try to become a Canadian institu- 
tion, taking all the best that England has to offer, but distinctly Cana- 
dian in thought and culture, abandoning those things that are even 
now being abandoned in England on account of the war. 

The war was making the boys think, and their thoughts were 
reflected in the magazine's pages. A long article defended the French- 
Canadian war effort and finished, "Let us try to understand our fellow- 
Canadians better. . . . Mud thrown is ground lost." Later in the year 
came the statement that "the war had swept the College out of its con- 
servative rut . . . had made it a more truly educative . . . institution." 
There was continued questioning of the fagging "tradition" and it was 
dropped soon after the war. 

The age-old bugaboo of school spirit cropped up again in 1944. The 



difficulty was always to define it. S. G. Mackie, a war refugee about to 
return home wrote: 

I am fond of the school, and let the boy take note, that cannot say the 
same ... he is the one that has no school spirit. ... It is this communion 
with the school, with her buildings, her customs, her scholars, past, 
present and to come, of which I feel a part which we all must feel that 
means most. It will not be the school yells or the Inspection or the 
Prize Day that I will remember but . . . the way the tower peeps 
through the chimneys at the Quad; which of the lights in the library 
turn on and off, and above all the books I read there and the faces of 
those that sat opposite me. 

As the war drew to a close a somewhat more sprightly air appeared 
in The College Times from time to time. "King's Row" or "The Colonel's 
Parade" described the masters at prayers much as they must have 
appeared to boys for over a century. 

And then Mr. Orr. Now he is virtually a "Classic." You can forecast 
his movements with easy accuracy. He inevitably swirls in most 
grandly behind the Principal, but yet leaving an impressive gap 
between them. He is the only other master who dons a gown and he 
never misses Prayers. 

Should the "Stewards will take charge" be announced, Mr. Orr is 
out of his seat before anyone has stopped praying. He steps swiftly 
across the platform to go out right behind the Principal and as he 
reaches the floor proper slows up, invariably gives an "Eyes Right" to 
the school, leading the procession from the Hall. Exactly opposite is 
the procedure if the Masters are asked to withdraw. Our Archivist 
rises leisurely (i.e. a minute or two instead of — 2 sees, flat), generally 
has a word with the Principal, picks up his "Crime Sheet," all the 
while eyeing the assembly. He leaves the Hall by far the last, with 
majesty befitting a "King" or a "Caesar," which is the probable origin 
of those appendages 

Mr. Mallett has a style peculiar to himself. You may always see 
him, chatting near the West door to the Hall, a full five minutes before 
the Principal arrives. For Mr. Mallett is the most punctual of all mas- 



ters in all things. He generally has a folder or something official with 
him, to bury in his pew, and he often appears to be sleeping, although 
(from experience) he is far from that. If he has the occasion to address 
the school, his motions are always the same. "Book on Lecturn . . . 
1. 2. 3.4., hand in pocket . . . 1.2., glasses out, glasses on, return case, 
address school. 

Mr. Knights is a regular attendant — you cannot miss him, but if 
for an instant, he thinks you have, there is always a window to open or 
an urgent exchange of news and views to be had with a nearby master. 
But Mr. Knights has a fine voice and although we may smile at the 
"golden tenor" of the "People's Choice," we do welcome the lead in 
hymns, even if the occasional line is omitted, for Mr. Knights rarely 
uses a hymn book. 

Then Mr. Shearer; Boredom personified. He is the master most 
genuinely uninterested by it all. Watch him frown some time when 
Mr. Knights opens a window behind him. The blast generally lands 
squarely amidships (i.e. from the shoulders up). From his boredom, 
there frequently comes a most humourous expression, especially when 
some of his own scholars are reading the lesson. . . . 

Mr. Sharp is very unobtrusive. He never "errs or strays like some 
(lost) sheep" and his only eccentricity is an occasional passion for the 
flashy tie. This or these light up the whole section. We have never seen 
Mr. Sharp in a different seat and hardly ever absent. 

The remaining members of the Bench or "King's Row" are fault- 
less and unspectacular for the most part. It always takes us some little 
while to find Mr. Biggar; Dr. Bassett permits himself the very infre- 
quent liberty of a smile; we wonder what causes them for they come at 
queer intervals? 

Mr. Mazzoleni, Mr. Law — we almost forgot Mr. Law. Nothing 
but good seems to come from Mr. Law anywhere. Forever "Pop," he 
seems to act as the "Guardian of the Row," sitting just near enough to 
be one of his boys, and near enough to his colleagues to be of them. He 
is the "St. Peter of the Assembly" and indeed we might even remark 
that for those who ultimately attain the "Pearly Gates," Mr. Law will 
probably be there with St. Peter and will show them around, making 
them feel at home. 



The traditional light-hearted poetry made a comeback in 1945 with 
R. M. Dawson's "Here's to the New Boy of Cheeky Thirteen." 

Here's to the new boy of cheeky thirteen, 

Here's to the old boy of twenty; 
Here's to the Stewards in Prayer Hall serene, 

Here's to the prefects a-plenty. 

Let the toast pass! 

Empty the glass! 

Old Upper Canada, always first-class! 

Here's to the master on homicide bent, 

His victim the lazy day-dreamer; 
Here's to the boys in detention room pent, 

Now to the husky First Teamer. 

Here's to the sergeants with voices of brass, 

Now to the boy with Sam Browne, sir; 
Next to the crammer, the first in his class, 

Now to the one who's well down, sir! 

So let them be new boys or let them be old, 

Master, student, I don't care a feather! 
I propose that we toast them, both timid and bold, 

And so let us drink now together! 

In the post-war world, the magazine had some serious messages. In 
1948 the subject of leadership, Golborne's original interest, came in for 

In this time of rapidly changing values, one quality which is becoming 
more and more necessary is that of leadership. ... It is reassuring at 
such a time to turn to this College and to observe it creating qualities 
of courage and leadership in its students. At a school like Upper Cana- 
da, the students have a far greater chance to develop their innate 
potentialities in these lines than they do at other educational institu- 
tions. At Upper Canada, as far as it is possible in any school, the 
pupils are given a chance to govern themselves ... we have an educa- 



tional machine which will turn out — and has done so — men truly fit to 
guide their countries and lead their peoples when the time comes. 

Three years later Peter Warren wrote of UCC and society: 

For several years many of us at UCC have been worried by the problem 
of the snobbishness supposed to be prevalent in the school — and in 
other schools. 

I suppose that a certain amount of this exists in any school. At 
ucc, where a large part of the school life is based on athletics, some 
boys tend to grade their fellow-students according to their ability in 
sports. Others, affectionately called "brains" by lowbrow society, seem 
to stick together in class as well as in other activities. It appears, there- 
fore, that these divisions are the product of common interests and 
mutual friendship. 

However, if we all were to realize that each one of us, in his own 
mind at least, is striving to do his share in school activities, I am cer- 
tain that much of this unnecessary and, in many cases, unrecognized 
distinction would disappear; and I am just as certain that this so- 
called snobbishness exists in just the same proportion in any other 

On the other hand, ucc may appear aloof to the outsider who has 
probably never had the chance to judge the school properly. I must 
admit that I have been at several parties where a number of very like- 
able high school students seemed neglected while a large group from 
his school gathered in another corner for the inevitable bull session. 
Conversely, I have attended several teenage dances wearing a UCC 
sweater only to be met with jeers and catcalls. 

However this may sound, I am not asking you to "go out and sell 
dear old ucc!" I am merely saying that we should all realize how for- 
tunate we are to be able to attend this school but, more important, 
that this privilege does not make us any better than anyone else. 

We've had the song, now let's have the dance! 

In 1 95 1 the College's old friend Nicholas Ignatieff wrote a percep- 
tive foreword for the winter number of the magazine: 



The Foreword is usually done by an Old Boy who has achieved dis- 
tinction and therefore has something useful or inspiring to say. I, on 
the other hand, am not an Old Boy, but a very undistinguished Old 
Master who struggled with indifferent success to make Canadian, mod- 
ern and ancient history useful and inspiring to boys of the College. 

For my lack of imagination in the class-room I tried to make up by 
giving some of the boys at least an opportunity to be inspired by the 
exciting panorama of greater Canada — we went on a number of expe- 
ditions in the North and West. 

Some of you may be a little sceptical about constant references to 
Canada's unlimited resources, great opportunities, "Canada's Cen- 
tury" and the like. You are perfectly right. They can prove empty 
words, just platitudes unless somebody is going to do something about 

None of this will come to pass if resources are ruthlessly exploited 
without thought of the future, if the bulk of the intelligent and ambi- 
tious people settle down to live as peacefully as possible in our few 
great cities. 

Many Canadians will have to get excited about the real challenge 
of its immense space: the application of the best that science and tech- 
nology, coupled with imagination and courage, can offer to develop 
and make habitable much of the Northern and difficult country that 
makes up Canada. 

I was wrong in thinking, though, that one or two rough expedi- 
tions would kindle the imagination of most boys. It is not that simple. 
One must get the very nature of Canada into one's blood, live with it, 
think of it, learn to love it enough, in all its aspects, so that one thinks 
of nature as a friend whose co-operation one must win, instead of a 
slave, to be exploited. 

That is why I was so happy to see the way in which both the Prep 
and now the Upper School are making increased use of their Norval 
property. What you do there is not just an unimportant adjunct to 
College life. It is the development of a new attitude of mind which lies 
at the very basis of Canada's future — love and respect for her Nature. 

In this, once again, as in the past, the College is doing pioneering 
work of inestimable value. 



The same year, W. C. Graham wrote an article about Canada's eco- 
nomic dependence on the United States. Graham closed by saying, 
'[We] would be . . . advised to turn [our] attention to this evident and 
real threat to our independence." The lead editorial drew the reader's 
attention to Canada's past and present greatness. In a sardonic mood, 
the editor went on: 

Many of the examples cited in this little epistle have been great Cana- 
dian triumphs that have played extremely important roles in the pan- 
orama of world history. But we must not teach this in schools or let the 
Canadian public know anything about it. Our neighbours might be 
offended and the idea might get abroad, especially among ourselves, 
that Canadians and their achievements are worth more than a casual 
glance and that Canada is a great country to live in. 

The instigation of any such mental process along these lines is 
extremely dangerous because it might jolt us out of our national apa- 
thy and give us the idea that we have a country that is worth knowing 
something about. 

Many must have memorized Voltaire when he dismissed Canada 
by saying "What a silly idea to settle down in Canada on snowdrifts 
between beavers and bears," because we do suffer from a chronic feel- 
ing of national ineptness that practically blinds our eyes to the great 
things that Canadians have done — many of them without fitting 
reward or recognition. Better we learn and remember what Sir Win- 
ston Churchill said of Canada, "Upon the whole surface of the globe, 
there is no more spacious and splendid domain than Canada, open to 
the activity and genius of free men." 

But we must not regard our past achievements in any spirit of vain 
complacency. We Canadians should be humbly thankful for our many 
blessings and we should strive to be worthy of our country and our 
forefathers. It is now our turn to contribute to Canada's greatness. 

A public opinion poll taken in the Upper School and dealing with 
internal matters was published in The College Times of June 1955. It 
showed that most boys intended to go into business, engineering, law, or 
medicine; the great majority favoured UCC as a day school in the city; 



62 per cent favoured the battalion; the average homework load was 2.1 
hours per night; out of every ten non-academic books read, 1.6 came 
from the school library. 

Much of this was pretty heavy stuff but there was time for fun too. A 
world-wide institution of the fifties was celebrated in 1957 under the 
title The Elvisad. It was an epic poem, Book One of which read: 

I sing of "gitars" and a boy, who first from Memphis, by fate, came to 

New York and, later, Hollywood, 
Much buffeted was he both by Critics and Music Lovers because 

of the unforgetting wrath of parents. 
Suffering many hardships, also, in Canada as well, until he should 

gather a following and bring his songs to Teenagers. 
From him came our "Hound Dog", our "Don't Be Cruel", and the 

stately "Love Me Tender". 

As the new building was being completed in the summer of i960, 
The College Times felt it was appropriate to talk about a time-honoured 
subject, tradition: 

Two forms of tradition prevail at Upper Canada College. The first 
sphere of tradition, the epitome of loyalty, courage, and gentlemanly 
deportment, is the essence of true school spirit. This highly commend- 
able goal is somewhat offset by senseless "traditions" such as the few 
existing remnants of fagging, and by false hero-worship, the idolatry 
commanded by bravado and rebelliousness in some facets of school 

Fortunately, the weakness displayed by these isolated incidents is 
the shameful property of a minority element. Nevertheless, as long as 
such a handicap persists, tradition in its finest sense is inexorably and 
undeniably enfeebled. Tradition, often axiomatic, should be founded 
on a solid base of wisdom; its towering strength lies mainly in its judi- 
cious simplicity. 

The new school will be lacking in one distinguished aspect of the 
old hall of learning — atmosphere. However, when we return in a 
quarter of a century to reminisce at assembly, we shall want to enter 
not a mere building, but rather a structure steeped in a vivid sense of 



keen striving in the realm of academics as well as athletics and the div- 
ers functions of school life. We have been given a unique opportunity 
to commence with the building of such an atmosphere now. 

As we come to move into our newly-erected school, after two years 
in uninspiring, although adequate, portables, we may start afresh. We 
must weed out and abolish the last vestiges of "traditional" inanity, 
thus strengthening the cream of our "unwritten laws." Tradition will 
remain an immovable cornerstone of Upper Canada College. In this 
way, and only in this way, can such an integral feature of the old fab- 
ric be incorporated and irresistibly linked forever with the new. 

About the boys leaving the school that summer, the editor, W. G. 
Ross, wrote: 

I would venture to say that they are as well or better prepared than 
any other students on the Continent. In addition to the learning that 
they have received through others, ucc boys are encouraged to forget 
conformity and complacency and to initiate new ideas and concepts 
for themselves. Some have already tasted the responsibilities of author- 
ity and each boy has been subjected to discipline during his sojourn at 
the College. 

In the summer of 196 1, Arthur Killip, who had returned to the Col- 
lege in 1950, had this to say in The College Times' foreward: 

Upper Canada is old enough and tolerant enough to take the risk of 
boys and even masters making mistakes. There is great freedom for the 
development of experimental methods and ideas — the seeds of great- 
ness grow in an atmosphere where one is not afraid of being occasion- 
ally wrong. 

I noticed also the power and prestige of the Old Boys' Association, 
which being traditionally conservative, can, to some extent, act as a 
brake on the progressive and over-adventurous tendencies of the age. 
In addition it has always, especially in emergencies, revealed itself as 
the solid rock on which the College is founded and upheld. 

But I feel that the finest quality of the College is that it provides a 
setting in which boys of all types of ability and interests can be sure of 



finding scope to develop in their own special field. And that is the hall- 
mark of a great school. 

The seventies are still with us, too close for fair analysis, but it is 
clear that standards have not fallen, The College Times still does what it 
was intended to do — give the students a chance to air both their views 
and their creative abilities. The magazine is not written by boys 
perched in a tree, but the first editor would applaud it just the same. 




IN 1 89 1 THE COLLEGE MOVED from its cramped quarters in downtown 
Toronto to the wide open spaces of Deer Park. In doing so it attracted 
to its teaching ranks A. A. (Prant) Macdonald, former head boy, ex- 
pert long-distance runner, and fine all-round athlete. The thirty acres 
of grounds and the country isolation combined with Macdonald's en- 
thusiasm to focus attention on games in a more intense way than ever 
before. They had been important from the beginning. Now they were 

In addition to teaching, Macdonald had two responsibilities: one 
was the directorship of the games program, the first such in UCC's histo- 
ry, the other was the editorship of The College Times. In March 1895 he 
wrote an editorial which expressed the College, indeed the English-pub- 
lic-school, games ethic of the period. 

The best that can be said of any educational institution is that it edu- 
cates in the literal sense of the word; that is, draws out the faculties of 
the student, and produces an all-round evenness of finish and symme- 
try of development. In such a scheme of education the training of the 
body must play a vitally important part. The school is the nursery of 
the State, and its duty is to train and send out boys strong and vigor- 
ous physically, as well as mentally, who will be able to perform man- 
fully and with good heart their appointed task among life's workers. 
We have no need of a school that turns out weak-backed, spectacled 
wonders, but we do need a school that produces a stamp of boy whose 



very appearance is a guarantee that his education has been, primarily 
speaking, complete. 

And, apart from the physical, there is a purely educational value 
in school athletics. Nowhere can the great qualities of life be better 
learned than on the playground. The boy that has learned to "play 
the game," be it football, cricket, or hockey, in the best sense of the 
word, has learned a great lesson, and one that will be of life-long 
benefit to him. He has learned to take hard knocks like a man, to 
accept a superior's decision with good grace, to be unselfish and con- 
sider the glory of his club rather than his own, to struggle against 
heavy odds, and, if need be, to acknowledge himself beaten; in short, 
he has learned to be a manly boy. Add to these the great qualities of 
nerve, judgment, power of rapid decision, and we have many of the 
elements that are indispensable in the battle of life. And one other 
great claim that athletics have is that they, more than anything else, 
create associations and memories that lead old boys to look back upon 
their school days with fondness. No one can ever forget his feeling of 
pride on gaining a place on a school team, or his exultation when that 
team gained a victory. Even in our old days of rivalry and election 
strife between day boys and boarders all breaches were healed when a 
match of any kind was being played, and, the hatchet buried for the 
day, each boy emulated the other in volume and length of cheering. 
What days those were, and how old boys, when they meet, love to talk 
about them now! 

Macdonald's rationale for games was the first to appear, although 
games were played at the College almost from the beginning. The most 
prominent of these was cricket. Indeed G. G. S. Lindsey, an Old Boy of 
the 1 870s, claims for the College the distinction of having introduced 
into "the lake regions of Canada, cricket, football, and organized ath- 
letic games." 1 (Lacrosse, he leaves to the Indians.) 

The founding of the College and the playing of cricket were virtu- 
ally simultaneous. Four early masters, George Anthony Barber, 
Frederick Barron, William Boulton, and John Kent were the holy 
quartet of Canadian cricket, with Barber being singled out as the 
father. Barber, Barron, and Kent "wielded the willow with great skill" 2 



and immediately put the College on the cricketing map. The first 
match played by the College eleven was against the Toronto Cricket 
Club in July 1836 and was, happily, a victory. The Patriot wrote at that 

National amusements are emblematic of national character; they 
partly borrow their tone from it, and partly contribute to form it. . . . 
The englishman's game is cricket. It is a pastime dear to the Lon- 
don nobleman, and the Sussex peasant, — to the full-blooded youthful 
aristocrat of Eton; and the honest ploughboy of Hampshire. The play- 
ers' virtues in this game are promptitude, activity, cheerfulness, and 
noiseless vigilance. "Still as the breeze, dreadful as the storm," is every 
combatant. . . . How fully, then, are the noblest traits of the English 
character manifested in this game! Cool courage, that does not spirt 
out at intervals but runs on with even tenor; animation without blus- 
ter; and action with but few words 

Such being our opinion of the surpassing excellence and virtues of 
cricket, we are delighted to hear that the boys of U.C. College have 
formed a cricket club. The members consist of some of the masters, ex- 
pupils, and boys at present pursuing their studies 

Sir John Colborne always took the deepest interest in the promo- 
tion of this noble game and our present thoroughly English Lieutenant 
Governor [Sir Francis Bond Head] is too accurate an observer of 
human nature, not to know that the amusements of the youth tinge 
the character of the man, and that British feelings cannot flow into the 
breasts of our Canadian boys, thro' a more delightful or untainted 
channel, than that of British sports. A cricketer as a matter of course 
detests democracy and is staunch in allegiance to his King. 

[Recently] The young cricketers . . . challenged the Toronto Club. 
. . . There was some excellent bowling, batting, and fielding on both 
sides. The day was brilliant, and the heat greatly tempered by a cool 
breeze. Several ladies sat under the trees, encouraging the players, and 
stirring them to emulation by their presence; and the respectable 
groups of spectators gazed on the animated spectacle with pleasure. At 
the conclusion of the match, His Excellency Sir Francis Head, rode up 
to the ground and was received with those clear-toned and hearty 
cheers, which the lungs of cricketers can so melodiously emit. 



May the young Gentleman of the College, play their game on the 
field of life, with a credit equal to that they have earned on Thursday, 
and may they never have to contend with opponents less generous 
than those whom they encountered on that occasion and by whom it 
would have been an honour to be defeated! Many of our Englishmen, 
heroes, lawyers, & divines, have, at the game of cricket, won youthful 
laurels, prophetic of those which overshadowed their maturer brows. 1 

For twenty-five years the Upper Canada College Club was com- 
prised mostly of Old Boys, and seems to have been the New York Yan- 
kees of its day, though we cannot be sure how tough the opposition was. 
Starting in i860 students began to take a larger part. Principal Cock- 
burn supported the game through the sixties and seventies, aided by 
John "Gentle" Martland, who was president of the club for twenty- 
seven years. During his presidency, the College team became entirely 
made up of current pupils. In 1863 the College played the Old Boys for 
the first time and found the experience so pleasant they have been play- 
ing them without a break ever since. In 1867 the College played its first 
match against Trinity College School, Port Hope, winning by the 
improbable margin of an inning and 176 runs; this rivalry has contin- 
ued almost without a break for one hundred and thirteen years. 

In the late eighties an article was written by the eminent Goldwin 
Smith, whose comments on cricket are noteworthy, humorous, pungent, 
and wrong: 

Athleticism is a curious and characteristic product of our generation. 
Its birth is quite recent. At Eton and Oxford in my day there was 
cricket and there was boating; there were cricket matches and there 
were boating matches; but there were not athletics. Nor was there any 
bodily exercise or field for bodily display and distinction except the 
games and boating. There was a fencing master, but he had scarcely 
any pupils. Running, walking, leaping and throwing matches had not 
come into existence. A good oarsman or cricketer had his need of 
school or college admiration or renown, but this revival of Greek feel- 
ing about success in games and bodily exercises had not set in. The 
Public School matches and boat races were objects of interest to Eton, 



Winchester, Westminster, Harrow and their circles, but the general 
public paid very little attention to them and they received little 
notices in the newspapers. Now they are national events. 

Cricket and baseball have both evidently been developed by evo- 
lution out of the infantine game of trap-ball, the bowler or pitcher 
being substituted for the trap, and the running being backward and 
forward in one case and round the ring in the other. Single-wicket 
cricket and the English boys' game of "rounders" are the "missing 
links." That out-of-door games are excellent things in their measure, 
we are all agreed. But in England all measure has been lost. Men live 
to play games instead of playing games to live. Surely it is laughable to 
see a man sheathed in defensive armour of the most elaborate kind 
march solemnly out before a vast concourse of spectators and with a 
gait which bespeaks his consciousness of his heroic responsibility to dis- 
play the skill which by years of laborious practice he has acquired of 
preventing a ball from hitting three upright sticks. 

The aristocratic and leisure game of all others is cricket, a match 
at which, when the players are first-rate, takes seldom less than two, 
often three days, and if the defence continues to improve its advantage 
over the attack may presently take a week. Cricket probably will 
never be naturalized here; besides its inordinate demands on time the 
difficulty of keeping up lawns in our hot summer is against it. 

The College's prospective move to Deer Park intensified interest in 
games, and cricket was no exception. In the spring of 1891 the first 
cricket team played twelve matches right through June 28 — no rubbish 
here about exams getting in the way of more important pursuits! Fur- 
thermore, the board had approved of a cricket professional to coach 
and do other things and he — Bowbank — was appointed for the 1891 
season. Parkin's arrival did nothing to lessen interest. An 1897 article 
could have been written by the principal himself: 

The very conduct of the game tends to propriety, precision and good 
form. A cricket umpire, acting for gentlemen, has a pleasant and easy 
time. To question his decisions would be an offence against good 
breeding and the laws of etiquette. This is one of cricket's greatest 
claims to support, that it teaches and inculcates all the military quali- 



ties, insisting at the same time upon courtesy, dignity and generosity, 
and that intangible, but yet desirable, idea — good form. 

It is with great satisfaction we learn that Dr. Parkin has decided to 
make cricket compulsory this summer. A professional has been 
engaged for nine weeks, and every one, whether enthusiastic cricketer 
or not, should resolve to do his best to make this a record season. Now, 
at considerable expense, a new venture is being made in cricket and it 
rests with the school to say whether the results will justify it. 

The idea of "compulsion" in sports will come with a shock to some 
who at present take no interest in the game. For such the course is 
plain, namely, to devote themselves to cricket for the sake of the 
school's success. Nothing helps like enthusiasm; and general activity 
and readiness, guided by a skilful "coach," is bound to produce credi- 
table results. Hitherto the trouble has been that College cricket cen- 
tred in about thirty players, the rest taking but a passive interest. Now 
with steady supervision of the juniors it is hoped that an army of crick- 
eters will grow up in the College. Matches between "flats" or "forms" 
can be arranged when the game becomes universal, and by a division 
of "creases" boys may be graded and promoted when necessary to a 
higher crease, thus providing interest and excitement. It is a grand 
opportunity to revive College cricket and we trust the Eleven of '99 
will carve out a niche for themselves in the pillar of fame. 

Cricket's great rival made its appearance during Cockburn's princi- 
palship. Organized baseball had started in New Jersey in 1846; the first 
professional baseball team was organized in 1869. UCC, ever alert to 
international developments, experimented with the new game, perhaps 
inspiring the monumental match, or mis-match, of May 187 1 . Their 
opponents were the Weston Church School and the score was UCC 64, 
Weston 17. The game took two and a half hours, with UCC scoring in 
every inning. The College pitcher, J. L. Cronyn, scored ten runs him- 
self, an exhausting performance that allowed Weston to score thirteen 
of their runs in the ninth. How the teams managed to score 81 runs in 
150 minutes will remain a mystery; how Cheeley, the Weston pitcher, 
survived the bombardment is another. Nevertheless, baseball had raised 
its American head on the Upper Canada College campus, and it has 



continued to do so to this day. Just before the school moved north, it 
was playing competitive baseball with the collegiate institute. In its iso- 
lation at Deer Park it continued the game but only on an informal 
basis. Today there are house teams, but baseball has never achieved the 
status of an official school sport. 

The dominance of cricket over baseball has certainly something to 
do with tradition; it has had something to do with cricket's being a first- 
class game and with its undoubted character-forming traits. But in a 
society obsessed with speed, cricket has sometimes seemed anachronis- 
tic. Both games could continue as friendly rivals for a long time to 
come. Volumes could be written about cricket at Upper Canada Col- 
lege. It has survived for as long as the College itself, against the 
onslaughts of tennis, track, rugby, and baseball, a brief spring term, 
capricious weather, final exams, and long weekends. It even survived a 
shortage of cricket balls in 1944. How much longer Canadian boys will 
continue to play under such handicaps is uncertain. What is certain is 
that the game, under the patient guidance of generations of dedicated 
masters, has given pleasure to, and helped to build the characters of, 
thousands of Upper Canada College boys. 

In delving into the football story, it is difficult to distinguish between 
Canadian football, English rugby (rugger), and soccer. A. A. Macdon- 
ald tells us that, previous to 1876, the association game — soccer — was 
played. In that year a Swiss master named Fiirrer introduced English 
rugby to the College. It became the official College autumn game with, 
once again, masters playing alongside boys as members of the first team. 
Originators included Hamilton Woodruff, W. L. Conolly, Charles 
Atkinson, and Frank Keefer. 

In 1902 there was a lot of indecision at the school as to just what 
form the game should take. The old English scrimmage with its open- 
ness and uncertainty had been abandoned at some earlier date for a 
Canadian-type scrimmage. A debate developed about the introduction 
of American rules, which demanded precision and a scientific 
approach. The College Times saw the inevitable demise of the English 
game and thought, with a tinge of sadness, that the sooner the Ameri- 
can game was brought in the better. (How delighted the editor, E. M. 



Sait, would have been to see the amount of English rugby played by 
UCC in the seventies!) The fifteen-man game continued to be played 
until 1902 when a man was dropped. That game was played until 1933 
when the number of players became 12. Gradually, as the modern pla- 
tooning disease took hold, more and more colours were given at the 
school-team level; the professional rules, if not the professional ethic, 
became too popular to ignore. 

In the eighteen-nineties football was not only one of the main school 
games, it had important social overtones. In December about fifty boys 
attended an annual football supper, which was more than just a supper, 
it was an occasion. After the feast — gallons of soup, turkeys, and apple 
pie — there were toasts to Queen, country, College, and Stony Jackson, 
followed by songs, choruses, violin duets, banjo solos, and selections on 
the mouth organ, all finished off with "God Save the Queen." The 
chronicler of one supper declared that "the whole affair was out of 

Although hockey was widely known in the eighties, it took some 
time to arrive at Upper Canada College. The first news of skating was 
in 1883 when a semi-comical article in The College Times described a trip 
to the Adelaide Street rink. 

Reaching the Rink, we watched for a short time the different skaters, 
the majority of whom kept circling round and round like the horses 
and carriages of a merry-go-round, while an envied minority were in 
the middle of the Rink performing evolutions and twists with seem- 
ingly the greatest of ease. . . . We then proceeded to don our skates; we 
stood up. What caused that rocking? Was it an earthquake, or was it 
only the pop which we had indulged in at the "Taffy"? We start for 
the ice — a little too quickly, perhaps for the good of our bones; but 
how were we to know that that curling stone was in the way? We start 
off on the ice; now the fun begins in earnest. Oh, my! what was that? 
What mule kicked us, or who struck us with a sledge hammer from 
behind? Echo answers, "Neither; it was the ice". Sad conclusion — it 
was. Someone helped us up ... he smiled, and told us to strike out with 
one leg and keep the other in front, so we did so; but what was the 
consequence? Evidently our feet had some little misunderstanding for 



they kept spreading and spreading until — But the finishing touch was 
yet to come when, after getting the stars out of our head, we looked up 
and saw a girl holding up a scuttle of coal — no, it is a muff, up to her 
mouth, in vain endeavours to keep from laughing. Horrors! it is Ame- 
lia Jane Smifkens, the girl we have been trying to make an impression 
upon for the last six months. 

In 1887 shindy, alias shinney, shinny, or shinnie, was popular. It is 
not clear what the game consisted of, but it was played with a peculiar 
crooked stick and was not yet tainted by the professionalism "of cos- 
tumes, badges, referees or umpires." 

Oddly, to the modern eye, hockey did not begin at UCC until 1888, 
when an outside hockey rink was made; by 1891 the game was estab- 
lished as the winter sport. One wonders what competition it had. The 
first school hockey team played the winter of 1890-91 and was cap- 
tained by J. B. McMurrich. With the move to Deer Park, two rinks 
were built, one of which was covered. In the mid nineties the College 
masters disapproved of the school team entering the Toronto Junior 
Hockey League, perhaps fearing a type of play not in accord with the 
school's values, but this policy did not last long. The first game played 
against Ridley was in 1896 at the Granite Rink, a "splendidly contest- 
ed" match according to Harry Griffith of Ridley and won by UCC 1 1-9. 
For the next two or three years pressure continued to mount, and in 
1899 a movement started to enter UCC in the Ontario Hockey Associa- 
tion. All the good teams were in some league and it was difficult to get a 
match otherwise. Moreover, some objective such as the Junior Champi- 
onship of Ontario would catch the imagination not only of the team but 
of the whole school. The OHA was evidently established, dignified, and 
cleansed of professionalism. Gentlemanly conduct among the players, 
courtesy to officials, and regard for authority were the hallmark of the 
OHA. The College did join the association and was rewarded early on 
with a championship in 1902. 

For many, hockey rivalled football as the most popular College 
game either to play or to watch. In the twentieth century, lacking artifi- 
cial ice, the school teams travelled miles to practise or play wherever 



they could. Maple Leaf Gardens was a favourite spot after 1934; many 
exciting games and outstanding teams were developed in that arena. 
Two outdoor artificial rinks built in the mid 1950s gave the whole 
school a better chance for enjoyment, and the 197 1 indoor arena has 
proved to be a great boon for the game. 

Track (though not much field) began early in the College history. A 
number of events were evidently very popular at the King Street site: 
there is evidence that the 100-yard dash, the 220, and the quarter-mile 
were all run during the 1880s, although there was no true running track 
until the College moved north. 

The first running track was laid out on the new school grounds in 
the spring of 1892 by Stony Jackson and some students. 

Among the innovations that have been made since last September, 
one which ought to find a great deal of favour with the boys is the pro- 
posed cinder path. It has been generally supposed that this would be 
ready for the coming games, but this impression is an erroneous one. 
Such an undertaking is one that cannot be done in a day, and which, 
if poorly done, had better not be done at all. For proof of what we say, 
witness the track in Montreal, which, in a comparatively short time 
after its completion, cost nearly two thousand dollars to have repaired. 
Warned by such examples as this, the College authorities have 
decided to go slow and have a track which will not need constant look- 
ing after. So, although we will not have a cinder track for this year's 
games, still we can have the pleasing assurance that next year ucc will 
have a track that will leave nothing to be desired. 

Jackson, not content with laying out the quarter-mile track, was 
also "engaged in superintending the construction of a cinder path 
across the trackless bogs of the south-eastern lawn, and regularly puts in 
at least two days' work every fine afternoon." ("The trackless bogs of 
the south-eastern lawn" now consist of three autumn soccer fields or two 
spring cricket fields and a baseball diamond, and shudder to the roar of 
traffic sweeping down Oriole Parkway around to Lonsdale.) 

A hundred years later, Games Day carries on annually. In addition, 
it is a rare spring week that does not see a track meet of some kind, 



often with students of a dozen different schools, in a wild mixture of col- 
ours, running and jumping on the oval. 

The move to Deer Park and its vistas opened up more opportunities. 
In 1 89 1 Macdonald presented a handsome challenge cup for cross- 
country running. The course was five-and-a-half miles long, north and 
west of the grounds. It seems to have been open to all forms, and to have 
gained popularity as the years went by. (In 1894, 44 boys ran, 29 
finished, and the winner's time was forty-one minutes, twenty-five sec- 
onds.) In 1892 another Cup was presented — this time for a spring 
steeplechase — by William Hendrie and his five sons, all Old Boys. The 
course was well-remembered: 

. . . the brook which winds through the irregular valley behind the Col- 
lege. The volume of water is not great, but sufficient at some seasons to 
wear a broad channel, with irregular banks sometimes rising like a 
wall eight or ten feet high. Through this valley and on both sides of 
the brook, the runners follow a zig-zag course from flag to flag, and by 
some strange freak of fortune the flags always lead across the hardest 
places. Twelve times, by actual count, the stream is crossed; twice the 
sides of the valley itself are climbed; two fences have to be scaled; and 
then there is the famous water-jump where George has repaired the 
old dam. From the little grove where the race begins to the winning 
flags is something less than half-a-mile as the crow flies, but the zig- 
zag route with all its ups and downs requires a good deal of staying 
power, to say nothing of agility and speed. 

Cricket, football, and hockey were seen in the nineteenth century 
and for part of the twentieth as more important than any other games 
because they were team, not individual, sports; they built character and 
school spirit, which was a crucial concept that could coalesce around 
them. In 1882 there was an attempt to promote tennis at the expense of 
"cricket or any other given sport," but it was not very successful. The 
idea cropped up from time to time throughout the years, but generally 
the view prevailed that there should be one official game in each term 
to which all students paid homage. It was not until after the Second 



World War that the school gradually broke away from the "big three" 
games syndrome. 

Despite the official line, other sports were practised from time to 
time. Although rowing was not officially a UCC sport until recently, 
College boys certainly rowed while members of the school as early as 
1859. A rowing club that had some prominence on Toronto Bay was 
made up of boys from Upper Canada College and the Model Grammar 
School. They rowed in a six-oared, lap-streaked boat called the Clipper. 
The crew was coached by Thomas Tinning, who at that time was 
champion oarsman of Toronto Bay. In the early 1920s an attempt was 
made to revive rowing, and some competition took place with Malvern, 
Parkdale, Hamilton, and St. Catharines. Transportation expense and 
lack of time made it difficult to develop successfully, but the group 
worked hard. They suggested some generous Old Boys might buy an 
Eight and a Four and a school bus. It was not the last time this idea 
arose. Rowing was a good sport for non-cricketers, but fifty years went 
by before it caught on. On its 150th birthday the school has a fanatical 
group of oarsmen, who keep unbelievable hours, high academic stan- 
dards, and attain creditable competitive results. 

Swimming, moribund at King and Simcoe, came alive at Deer Park 
with the erection of a swimming pool. The eminent B. K. Sandwell, not 
satisfied with one good swimming pool, wanted two: 

We congratulate the college on its acquisition so long, long deferred, of 
a real, good swimming bath. The bath is now in full operation, and is 
really excellent. It is also supplied with two very good shower baths, 
and every other appliance. This is a thing which no large school 
should be without, being calculated to promote at once health, 
strength, and manliness among the boys. We can't see, however, why 
we should not have both the outdoor and indoor baths. 

How Sandwell expected to operate an outdoor pool except in July is 
not explained, but superb use was made of the indoor one which was 
enlarged under Auden and lasted until 1932. The guiding genius of the 
pool was A. L. Cochrane, who taught swimming, diving, and water polo 



until 192 1. In 1937 a new pool gave impetus to aquatics, which since 
the early forties have given many boys a much-needed alternative to 

Although water sports were Cochrane's specialty, he was also an 
excellent boxing instructor and was responsible for introducing this skill 
to College boys, ucc was one of the first schools in Canada to have a 
boxing tournament, 1896 being the year. Qualities such as self-reliance 
and skill in attack and defence were said to result from this sport. Like 
many other games its popularity depended on how good at it you were. 
For many years it was mandatory for all new boys to enter the annual 
tournament. A few enthusiasts continued to compete in their senior 
years. There was absolute silence during the bouts, both contestants 
were applauded no matter how well they had done, and for the finals 
many fathers (no women allowed) attended in black ties to watch the 
boys compete under floodlights at night. H. M. Buxton succeeded 
Cochrane, but when he left there was nobody to carry on. A first-class 
instructor was indispensable for a sport like boxing. Dr. Sowby made 
the boxing voluntary in 1954 and it promptly died. 

Tennis had only a brief history at King and Simcoe. In Deer Park 
tennis was played in a desultory way from the beginning, but caught on 
as an alternative to cricket following the Second World War. After the 
squash courts were built in 1971, racquet sports became even more 
firmly established as official College games. 

There was little basketball in the nineteenth century, but the game 
was resurrected around 1900, and was endured as long as it did not 
interfere with football. Jeanneret spent much time and energy trying to 
develop basketball in 191 3, but it did not come into its own for many 

One curious aberration was golf. Under the impetus of that indefa- 
tigable master E. R. Peacock, a rough nine-hole course was laid out on 
the open land west of the Deer Park grounds. With the purchase of 
twenty additional acres in 1901, the game became more popular: 

There has been a good deal of vigor expended on the game of golf this 
autumn. Among both boys and masters, old players are keener than 



ever, and a number of new enthusiasts have cropped up. Zeal for the 
game, indeed, has sometimes proved an annoyance if not a danger to 
the innocent frequenters of the College avenue and football fields; for 
many of the wielders of golf clubs prefer the smooth turf and nearness 
of the home fields to the lesser attractions of our distant links. We are 
glad to be able to promise a nearer hunting ground to the club for next 
spring, when five fresh greens will be completed on the new College 
property, just across the Forest Hill Road. The player will then take 
his first drive within a stone's throw of the College, and can either 
make a short round on the new holes, or work out on to the old course, 
coming back again for a finish near home. 

The only matches played by the club this term have been by 
teams of Masters, who met teams from the faculty of Toronto Univer- 
sity. On the Varsity links the College representatives won by 1 8 up, 
and on the home course by 35 up. 

Before 1920 there is little evidence that games were compulsory for 
all College boys. At King and Simcoe there was not really room. At 
Deer Park, despite Parkin's attempt at compulsory cricket, many day 
boys had an enormously long trip home, with the result that boarders 
really dominated the sporting scene. This concentration on the few who 
boarded rather than the many who did not, placed emphasis on the 
school teams rather than on intra-mural games. The emergence of rival 
boarding-schools, therefore, helped to shape the direction the games 
program took. 

It was in the eighteen-nineties that inter-school rivalry began to 
emerge as a force to be reckoned with in school life. In 1889 Ridley was 
founded, and two years later the College played its first football game 
against that school. The game was dropped for three years, then 
resumed again in 1895, and has been played every year down to the 
present. In 1896 the two schools first met at cricket; these matches, too, 
have continued unbroken. Hockey against Ridley began the same year, 
but the rivalry has been spotty, unbroken only since 195 1. In 1899 St. 
Andrew's College began, and in 1900 the Little Big Four of TCS, Rid- 
ley, SAC, and UCC was formed in football. In 1901 cricket followed. 
Other school teams developed much later: swimming and basketball in 



1942; squash in 1944; tennis in 1951 ; and soccer in 1968. Little Big 
Four rivalries were begun in swimming, squash, and tennis. 

Games had started to play an enormous part in the life of the Col- 
lege. It was not unusual for twenty or thirty pages in The College Times to 
be given over to detailed descriptions of cricket games. In addition, the 
Old Boys' athletic activities provided a source of interest. 

The inter-school rivalry, sometimes quite fierce and not at all 
friendly, explains to some degree the article in the December 1893 
College Times by C. H. Bradburn, chairman of the Board of Stewards. 
The "great principle of patriotism" was invoked to persuade all to play 
one game per term, regardless of "their natural inclination." Bradburn 
claimed that the official game for each term was dictated by public 
opinion outside the College and beyond its control. 

As we feel that the majority of the boys do not understand the object of 
the present system of managing the games, we propose giving, as con- 
cisely as possible, the reason for the present condition of affairs. 

A minority seem to be in favour of playing several games during 
any given season of the year, and as it is but right, that as far as possi- 
ble, everyone should enjoy himself after his own fashion, it appears, at 
first sight, to be only just that these should be able to gratify their wish. 
Opposed to this, however, is the great principle of patriotism. We have 
ventured to use this term in reference to a boy's love for his College, 
and who will presume to deny that every sincere and manly boy does 
not love "his College" with his whole soul? And so, on account of their 
patriotism, the boys are asked to forego their natural inclination. Sup- 
pose for a moment that we were to support more than one game a 
term, a case might arise such as this: The best "Rugby" player might 
be a great lover of "Association." True, he excels at "Rugby," but he 
does not care so much for it as for the other game, and in consequence 
the football team and the College loses its best representative. It might 
be even worse. Suppose, two, three, or even four of our Rugby team 
were disposed to play "Association," our fifteen would be ruined and 
the firm reputation of UCC, won on many a hard-fought field, would 
be sacrificed to the pleasure of a few. Hence we conclude that we can 
have only one game each term to make one game a success. That the game 



each term is the particular game it is, arises from public opinion out- 
side the College and over which we have no control. We can only 
show that UCC can, and will, excel in any manly sport which may be 
popular. The question then arises. Is this system a success? Last year 
the whole energy of the College was thrown into Rugby football; and 
did the blue and white jersies ever leave the field except as victors? In 
winter we played hockey, and the nominal junior champions of 
Ontario were shown how to play that game by UCC. In summer the 
cricketers laboured diligently on the crease, and TCS, which prides 
itself in knowing how to play that game, at least, was no match for our 
eleven. Nevertheless, the boys grumble at having to pay one dollar a 
term to support these organizations and our annual games. Were last 
year's games a failure? Perhaps they were, but we never heard so. And 
when the Stewards have received these hardly gotten dollars — are 
they not used properly? We firmly believe, and the majority of the 
boys believe, that they are. 

These views must have been shared by the administration, for this 
general philosophy held sway for more than half a century, an astonish- 
ing tribute to the tradition that it was important to win for the love of 
the College. But the accent on playing one game, on patriotism, and on 
winning had its inevitable consequence: the deterioration of the value 
of good sportsmanship — a high price to pay. After the First World War, 
Choppy Grant continued the policy that unreserved options were not 
the best way to encourage school spirit. He thought a team player had a 
better training for later life than a swimmer or tennis player. These 
curious and unproved points of view took many years to die. 

At the same time, under Grant's impetus house games and school 
teams both burgeoned in the thirties. The school regularly had two or 
three football, four hockey, and three cricket teams. In the seventies this 
organization is supplemented by an enormous house-games program. 

As the College moves into the future, the games program is large 
and varied: football, rugger, soccer, hockey, basketball, swimming, 
squash, tennis, cricket, rowing, and track-and-field are all accepted in 
the College curriculum, and a large interschool calendar has been built 
up. Baseball is played for fun. Skiing, golf, and curling are off-campus 



pursuits. When the conditions are right, will sky-diving and skate- 
boarding be added? 

The proliferation of games at Upper Canada College clarifies the 
College's current attitude to the dilemmas of the past. Games are no 
longer for boarders alone, they are for everyone. Insofar as it is possible 
to supervise them, they are compulsory. Emphasis on games has been 
softened by the heavy clubs program. One game is no more important 
than another; they all serve a purpose — the full development of the stu- 
dent. An invaluable corollary of both games and clubs is the close rela- 
tionship built up between teachers and students, much closer than is 
possible in a classroom. The College has fought hard and with some 
success against the professionalization of its games. There are two key 
elements in professional sports without which none of them could exist: 
money and winning. Since money is the essential, and without winning 
there is no money, winning is also essential. If winning is essential, then 
the true purposes of games — enjoyment, exercise, cameraderie, skill- 
learning, the building of confidence — become secondary. The only end 
is winning and all means are directed to that end. It has not been easy 
for College athletes, especially in those sports which are obviously pro- 
fessionalized, to resist following their commercial leaders; it has been 
equally difficult for some adult members of the College community. In 
1976 a card entitled "Code of Sportsmanship" was printed and distrib- 
uted to every College boy as well as to the students of some other 
Ontario independent Schools. Gentle Martland, Prant Macdonald, and 
Stony Jackson would probably have wondered what it was all about. 
The present and future task is to ensure that their efforts were not in 




IT IS DIFFICULT TO ESTABLISH A DATE on which the College Rifle 
Company, alias the Rifle Corps, later the Cadet Battalion, held its 
first official parade. The first hint of any military enthusiasm at UCC 
is mentioned earlier, when during the 1837 Rebellion, a troop of boys 
offered their services to the Lieutenant-Governor. 

Early in Principal Cockburn's regime, military drill was the subject 
of much attention in schools in England, Canada, and the United 
States. Ways were sought to promote what was thought of as a patriotic 
spirit. The aim was to foster love of country along with a disposition to 
defend it, and to develop obedience and discipline. The important habit 
of prompt obedience could then be carried over into the classroom. By 
1865 drill had been introduced into schools in many Ontario centres, 
including Toronto, London, and Port Hope. The College was probably 
one of the earliest participants; it is known that in 1863 the older boys 
paraded weekly under a Major Goodwin, a strict disciplinarian but 
"kind-hearted" and "cheery." 1 

In 1865 Fenian troubles were creating much unease in Canada, and 
several Upper Canada College students asked Principal Cockburn's 
permission to transform the recently formed cadets into a company of 
the Queen's Own Rifles. In December of that year an unknown num- 
ber of pupils were enrolled, and in January 1866 the company was 
attached to the 2nd Battalion, Queen's Own Rifles. Thus, Upper Can- 
ada College was possibly the second Canadian school to have an 
"official" cadet corps, following Bishop's College School in Lennoxville, 
Quebec, whose corps was organized in 1861. 



The Queen's Own were called out on March 8, 1866, and though 
the College boys were not specifically mentioned, they appeared at 
every parade and march anyway (they even had their own marching 
song). On St. Patrick's Day the company waited for any trouble arising 
out of the parade, but nothing happened. When the Fenians actually 
struck at Fort Erie on June 1 , the Queen's Own were ordered out to 
meet them. School was dismissed for the day and the College company 
reported for duty only to find that, by orders of General Napier, they 
must remain in garrison to guard the armouries and official stores. 
Some students wanted to "desert" to join the battalion at the front, but 
evidently no one did. They performed the duty which was given them. 
After the raid there were plenty of volunteers in Toronto, and so the 
College company was released; but, just in case, it was "agreed that 
should the College bell ring at any time out of class hours, the members 
of the Company would . . . assemble at the Armoury." 2 The bell did, in 
fact, ring once, and the College boys were the first to report to the 
armoury, but it was a false alarm. A dense crowd gave them three 

It has been thought that the Upper Canada College Rifle Company 
received "battle honours" for its passive though honourable role in the 
Raid. Not so. The Queen's Own Rifles did not receive such honour; 
neither did the College. However, General Napier did give them hon- 
ourable mention in his report, and it is true that they were called out 
for service (along with Bishop's College School) — apparently the only 
time in Canadian military history this has happened. Over thirty years 
later, the government decided to present medals to those who were 
engaged on active service in the Fenian Raid: the College Rifle Com- 
pany, though denied the privilege of fighting, had performed some 
important functions, and all the members of the company still living 
received a medal. 

In the summer of 1867 the Upper Canada College Rifles united 
with the University company to form one corps. They attended a mili- 
tary camp at Thorold, and seem to have had a typical, enjoyable 
"camping experience," including a final march through a drenching 



The Rifle Company's history is obscure for about twenty years. In 
1886 Principal Dickson was requested by the College's Committee of 
Management to report about the possibility of organizing the students 
under the Queen's regulations as a voluntary company for drilling pur- 
poses. The committee then authorized the formation of such a group, 
and Dickson was asked to get tenders for full uniforms and patterns for 
them. Colonel Otter of the Queen's Own Rifles recommended a uni- 
form which was approved. At $9.50 per suit, it consisted of: 

Dark gray Norfolk Jacket trimmed with Scarlet with Standing Collar 
showing scarlet, Shoulder straps with scarlet piping and the letters 
ucc, Brass buttons bearing College crest, Sleeve of Jacket to have 
maple leaf of braid; Trowsers. Same material as jacket with scarlet 
piping over the seam; Leggings, of plain leather; Forage Cap-round 
with scarlet braid and button in the center of the crown, Brass badge 
on band of cap bearing the College crest resting on a maple leaf; Non- 
commissioned officers to be distinguished from privates by chevrons of 
black braid with red border. 

The 1886 prospectus lists a total of 73 of all ranks out of a College 
enrolment close to 300. 

Late in 1889 fifty uniforms appear to have been obtained from Eng- 
land for a total of four hundred dollars. It is not clear what relation 
these bore to the 1886 uniforms. Also, light and very effective rifles were 
approved which were guaranteed to perforate a one-inch dial plank at 
six hundred yards. Whether these were actually purchased is unknown, 
but later on there were complaints about a Peabody Rifle, too heavy for 
even a grown man. 

Hard news resurfaces again in December 1891 with another new 
uniform introduced: 

The rifle company, contrary to the expectations of all, was fully organ- 
ized the last week in November, and immediate measures were taken 
for it to start drill. Accordingly about twenty-five boys appeared in the 
gym on an appointed day. . . . The new uniforms consist of a shell- 
jacket (with three rows of brass buttons) of blue military cloth, and 



trousers of same material with white stripes. The headress is a forage- 
cap of College colours. This uniform resembles very much that of the 
Governor-General's Body Guard, besides being altogether College col- 
ours. They reason why most of the boys have not joined is very likely 
that the company was very long in getting started, and that everybody 
was waiting until the others made a move. The seniors, however, espe- 
cially those in the sixth form, have another reason, namely, that as 
they are leaving the school this year it is not much use in joining for 
such a short time. Every boy who expects to be here for two or three 
years more should join, as the uniform is not dear, only costing Si 6, 
and will last as long as anybody would need it in the College and a 
long time afterwards besides. The company has drilled regularly, each 
one has cleaned and brightened up his rifle and bayonet, and if it was 
of a greater size the rifle company would without doubt be one of the 
most sucessful institutions in the College. Therefore, join it. 

For the next few years the Rifle Company continued to be a College 
institution, though short on numbers. It was an expense for the partici- 
pants and involved much time-consuming drill without any kind of 
compensating fun such as shooting or extra leave. Those in the corps 
thought everybody "of suitable stature" ought to be a member: it 
bestowed lasting physical benefits and, more important, every boy who 
had "a spark of national spirit in him" should make himself acquainted 
with "the means by which he might help to save his country in time of 

Through most of the nineties an air of desperation is evident among 
those extolling the company's vitues. Though the company is described 
as "very smart and military in their blue and silver uniforms" when 
marching with the Royal Regiment of Canada in 1893, there was a real 
lack of interest and enthusiasm, not only in the College generally, but 
even on the part of the members, who numbered only twenty-three that 
year. Because the College was in dire financial straits, the students not 
only paid for their own uniforms but for their instructor as well. Equip- 
ment was inadequate. 

An effort is again being made to get suitable rifles from the govern- 


(Above) The College Times staff of 1893, 

headed by B. K. Sandwell (seated in 

centre) (Upper Canada College). 

(Right) George Glazebrook, editor 

191 7. He was later to become an 

eminent historian and civil servant 

(Upper Canada College). 

The College Times 



cr '■ 


1 1 / 

v _ 

Robertson Davies, 1 931. Author, 

playwright, and Master of Massey College 

(The College Times, 1948-50). 

David A. Keys, 1909. He became 

Canada's top nuclear scientist 

(The College Times, 1908-10). 

More well-known 
College Times editors 

' ' 'J 

Henry B. M. Best, 1 95 1 . 
President of Laurentian 

University (The College 
Times, 1951-54). 

V > 

Brian Doherty, 192 1. Founder of 
the Shaw Festival (Shaw Festival). 


The boxing and football pictures are from /^V^-Av #»■. 

the turn of the century. The steeplechase 
picture was probably taken twenty years 
later. The stream ran across Avenue Road 
about a hundred yards north of the Col- 
lege grounds and south of the Belt Line 
(University of Toronto Archives). 

These are the earliest pictures available 

of College first teams (Upper Canada 


Rugby 1883-85 

Hockey 1891-92 

Cricket 1889 

Cadets, 1893 (Upper Can- 
ada College). 

^ ^> 

,— ... — 

*-* 1 • | >^y ^-* 1 

11 7^g— /*> 

*/ ' 


The cadet corps changed 
uniforms every so often, per- 
haps to attract students 
when enrolment in the corps 
was low. 

Rifle Company, 1899 (The 

College Times, 1928-29) 

(Below) Cadets, 1909 (Upper 

Canada College). 

««<«***»£ vV.' 

The cadets reached their 
height in the twenties and 
thirties. Inspections and 
parades were social affairs of 
some significance. At the 
inspection in May 1932 
{middle picture) a group of 
dignitaries stands in front of 
the principal's house. Mar- 
garet Grant is third from the 
left. In the centre of the pic- 
ture are Marjorie Parkin 
Macdonnell (Mrs. J. M.), 
Vincent Massey, Mrs. Mas- 
sey, and Colonel Hertzberg, 
the inspecting officer. Prin- 
cipal Grant is on the 
extreme right. The other 
pictures are from 1932-33. 

RSM F. N. Carpenter. This photograph 
was taken in the thirties (Milne Studi- 
os). {Below) Inspection, May 1940. The 
SM's high standards carried on for some 
years (Upper Canada College). 


ment. The ones now being used by the corps are of the Peabody make, 
an arm which has long since been "condemned." At the time of the 
formation of the present company in '91, The Charles Stark Co., Ltd., 
was so kind as to present it with a very valuable rifle as a prize for 
shooting. From lack of proper "shooting irons" this has never been 
competed for. It has been decided, however, that next spring this 
handsome trophy will be shot for, even if the rifles then used have to 
be borrowed. 

The complaint that no incentive in the form of special leave was 
being offered to the corps had some merit; on the other hand in those 
years the College was fighting for its survival and the Rifle Company's 
worries had very low priority. Despite that the autumn of 1898 found 
the cadets under a new command. 

After a year of idleness the company has been revived and reorgan- 
ized. In order to give greater permanency to the command than there 
has hitherto been, one of the masters, Mr. E. R. Peacock, will here- 
after take command. The company already numbers over forty, and it 
is hoped that next year there will be two or three companies. D. J. 
Cochrane is first lieutenant, and will also hold the Rifle Stewardship. 
Douglas Young is second lieutenant. The uniform adopted is similar to 
the new service uniform of the Queen's Own Rifles — Rifle green with 
forage cap. The officers will wear the uniform of a lieutenant of the 
Queen's Own, without the cross belt or badge. 

Sergeant-Major Holmes, of Stanley Barracks, has been getting the 
recruits into shape for the last month, and had done a great deal of 
work in the short time allotted to him. The heavy snow has stopped 
the outside drill for the present, but it is hoped that after the holidays 
drill will be held in the Armouries once a week. If so, the company will 
march to the Armouries whenever the condition of the weather and 
roads will permit. 

As Canada moved into the twentieth century and the College 
achieved independence, Captain Peacock and the company gathered 
some strength. In December 1900 The College Times reported: 



Contrary to the expectations of some of the boys, the Rifle Company 
has turned out exceedingly well this year. All the members do their 
very best at every drill, and as they have had two drills a week while 
the good weather lasted, they now compare very favourably with any 
of the militia companies in the city. 

At the beginning of this term Capt. Peacock was lucky enough to 
secure as drill sergeant the instructor of the Queen's Own Rifles, who 
is a splendid drill. So we have great hopes of doing well in the parades 
next spring. 

On the return of the troops from South Africa, the Company 
paraded 42 strong. The march was a long one, but the College did 
splendidly, getting a great deal of praise for their fine appearance. 
Although all the members had 9 o'clock leave, they showed their 
regard for the honour of the corps by being in well on time. 

We hope soon to begin rifle practice at the Armouries, and expect 
also to play a little indoor baseball. 

Next February comes the great event of the winter term — the 
Rifle Company dance, to which all look forward with pleasant expec- 
tations. Last year the dance went off splendidly, the decorations were 
fine, the floor and music all that could be desired, and not a hitch 
occurred from beginning to end. This year it has every prospect of 
being even better, if that were possible. 

The brave words of the article were not reflected in deeds, however. 
These were lean years for the company. The appointment of an ardent 
imperialist, Sir George Parkin, as principal had not helped, nor did 
what might have been the spur of the South African War. Parkin wrote 
to Kingsmill about the antiquated equipment and lost material. He felt 
it was a public duty to double the corps's numbers. The full strength of 
the company was forty-eight in 1902 and it leapt to seventy-five the 
next year, but still there was much dissatisfaction. The company had 
become noisy and undisciplined after Peacock's departure in 1902 and 
admittedly one of the worst in the country. Students wore parts of their 
uniforms around the school looking "half civilian and half military." 

On the whole the drill season this year has not been a great success. It 



is true that at Church parade in May the School Company did 
extremely well. We were the strongest Company on parade, and all 
the company and section movements that had to be executed were 
smartly performed. It is also true that the individual members of the 
Company have probably a more thorough knowledge of their drill 
than ever before, and yet we have not had a good season. 

This is much to be regretted, especially when the reason is seen to 
be the utter lack of "esprit de corps" that has prevailed. With a few 
exceptions hardly a boy in the Company has taken any interest, or 
shown any public spirit at all. It has been the fashion for some time to 
consider the Company as a tiresome thing: "One has to go in, but it 
wouldn't be at all the proper thing to do to try and work decently in it. 
Drill is a thing that has to be done, and so let us do it as badly as possi- 
ble." These are a few examples of the kind of spirit that of late has 
been animating the School Company. It is a wrong spirit, and a cow- 
ardly spirit, and it shows a lack of interest in the School itself that such 
a despicable state of things should be the case. 

A year later the concept of an obligatory cadet corps arose. Eyes 
turned to England, where Harrow and then Eton had made military 
drill and instruction in shooting mandatory for all boys. "The ultimate 
advantage to the country of this training it would be hard to overesti- 
mate." The College evidently did not agree, for no action was taken. 

The Board of Governors, which had not taken much interest in the 
cadets for about twenty years because they had more important things 
in hand, decided to look into the situation, and in September 1906 they 
asked one of the masters in the College "or other party in charge of the 
College Rifle Corp" 3 to report to the executive committee. There is no 
recorded response to this official inquiry but it was reported a little later 
that one and a half hours of drill per week was all the time the boys had 
to spare for drilling. Many parents were apathetic and were writing in 
to ask to have their sons excused. The senior boys especially were saying 
they had no time to put into drill. 

Brand new uniforms, introduced perhaps as an incentive, gave the 
company another new look in 1908 — the colour was khaki and there 
were knee breeches, puttees, tan shoes, and a Norfolk coat "of the 



officer pattern." A stetson hat with blue-and-white pugaree added "the 
necessary touches of local colour." The suggestion was made that it 
would "be possible to use this uniform for outdoor purposes after a boy 
has left school." 

The enrolment in the Rifle Company gradually increased to 63 out 
of 200 students by 1910. In 1912 Sergeant Carpenter first appeared as 
instructor, and by the following year the numbers had climbed to 103. 
For the first time the corps was split into two companies, one of board- 
ers and one of day boys. A description of the annual inspection of 191 2 
indicates that a new spirit was abroad. 

At three-thirty to-day the oval presented a picturesque scene. A wide, 
grassy lawn enclosed by a bank of foliage in various tints of green: 
along the terrace groups of College boys and a goodly number of 
friends: on the opposite side the Preparatory boys in their afternoon 
garb of white; the Union Jack waving from the top of the flagpole; 
and the blue sky over all. This, however, was but the setting. The cen- 
tre of the picture was also the centre of interest. There, drawn up in 
true military style, facing the terrace, stood the College Rifles, with 
Captain Jones in front, and precisely at three-thirty the captain 
ordered the General Salute for the inspecting officer, Major R. K. 

The formal inspection followed, and it is safe to say that nothing 
out of place could have escaped the practised eye of Major Barker, 
and all the time there wasn't a movement in the ranks. Next came the 
march past. Then the Captain put the company through the manual 
drill, and next Lieut. McLean was ordered to show their proficiency in 
the Firing Exercises. After this followed Company Drill. In all the 
different movements and formations on the march, Captain Jones dis- 
played not only his own knowledge of the work but also the discipline 
and training of the Company. 

Everything was going well when a daring party of rebels having 
seized a strong position some distance to the eastward, opened fire 
upon the defenders of the College. The Captain lost no time in form- 
ing his company for the attack. The whole scene suddenly changed to 
a field of battle; the Company to an army advancing against the ene- 



my's position — advanced guard, firing line, supports, and reserves. 
The advance was in extended order by sections and half companies, 
under their respective officers, while Captain Jones directed the opera- 
tions as Commander-in-Chief. There was a good deal of firing on both 
sides, and at times almost a fusilade. Good markmanship was at a pre- 
mium, for the rebels kept well under cover behind the bank. The 
enemy proved to be in greater strength than was expected, and at one 
stage the firing line of the attacking force had to retire to shelter and 
wait for the reserves. This movement was executed without confusion, 
and all the wounded were brought back into safety. When the reserves 
came up the attack was renewed. The firing line got nearer and nearer 
to the enemy's position and finally rushed it in a splendid bayonet 
charge. The rebel loss in killed and wounded was not ascertained, but 
a considerable number were taken and marched back to the camp as 
prisoners. They were a motley crowd — yanigans, outcasts, and wild- 
westerners, with a sprinkling of insurrectos. The Government owes a 
debt of gratitude to the College Rifles for rounding up so many unde- 

After this mimic warfare, the tallest and smallest members of the 
Company gave an exhibition of baiting the bull, while the rest of the 
Company were changing to continue their exercises before the inspect- 
ing officer and the admiring gaze of the fair spectators. Then for a 
quarter of an hour the Physical Drill squad went through a variety of 
movements in beautiful style, culminating with the building of the 
pyramid with Warren I on the summit unfolding a banner of the Col- 
lege. The last event of the afternoon was a bayonet bout between two 
champions representing Guelph and the United States. 

About half way through the programme Major Barker addressed 
the Company, and complimented the officers on the fine appearance 
of the whole command. He said that last year Upper Canada College 
had the finest company in the district, and this year, he was pleased to 
say, the position of the company was unchanged. Major Barker was 
particularly pleased with the skirmishing, and remarked on the ability 
of the officers to properly handle their several divisions, and the dash 
and discipline of all concerned in carrying out the various movements. 

After the programme was finished Major Barker spoke a few 
words of praise to the Physical Drill Squad, and Col. Sweny, one of 



the Governors of the College, followed with some good advice. At the 
end, as the Company doubled from the field, they were accompanied 
by a round of applause, which was perhaps the best possible return for 
a hard year's work. 

It was not long before the lamps went out all over Europe, and the 
boys who had been playing soldier on the green College fields became 
men losing their lives on the fields in Flanders. 

A direct cause-and-effect connection between the Rifle Company 
and advancement in the armed forces would be difficult to establish. No 
record was kept of boys who were in the cadet corps. Members of the 
Company — officers, nco's, privates — fought alongside Old Boys who 
had had no use for the military drill. Both were wounded or not, died or 
survived, were decorated or not, indiscriminately. Some achieved high 
rank; some no rank. All fought honourably. Joining-up was taken for 
granted, a low-key thing, not considered heroic or glorious. As the war 
dragged on, the numbers in the Rifle Company increased — the boys not 
speculating on its usefulness, just doing their job. The war was not glo- 
rified; glory clung to the men, nevertheless. 

The Rifle Company had to get along without an instructor during 
much of the 19 14-18 period. Sergeant Carpenter, who became acting 
Sergeant-Major in the 9th Battalion of the 1st Canadian Overseas Con- 
tingent, was virtually irreplaceable. Numbers, however, stayed up: in 
19 1 7, a record 140 out of 156 students, and in 191 8, 180 with a brand 
new bugle band. 

It is uncertain when the Rifle Company became compulsory, proba- 
bly in 1919. In 1900 all "boys of suitable age and physically qualified 
[were] expected to join the corps." By 19 12 they were "required" to 
join. Once again the enrolment during the next few years belies this 
policy. An NCO class was formed in 1918-19 to train the younger boys 
for leadership as they moved through the school. 

The arrival of Grant as principal, himself an army major, brought a 
flurry of activity. During his first year virtually the entire Upper School 
enrolment was in uniform. Between 19 19 and 1925 a voluminous corre- 
spondence took place between Grant's office and army district head- 



quarters. He asked permission for the College to carry colours, both the 
King's colour and the College colour — the latter to be paid for by 
Upper Canada College. Actually, the College colour was given by Miss 
Eleanor Gooderham and dedicated by the Bishop of Toronto in a cere- 
mony in April 192 1. In 1923, for the first time, the Upper Canada 
cadets took part in the Annual Garrison Parade. Bayonets, no longer 
allowed to Canadian cadets generally, were issued to the UCC company 
with special guarantees in case of loss or injury (to the bayonets, not the 
students). In fact, bayonets and scabbards did go missing from time to 
time to the accompaniment of much pain at HQ. Grant's communica- 
tions took in everything under the sun: uniforms (price twenty dollars 
at Beauchamp & How), and the quality of the khaki; greatcoats; 
signalling equipment; machine guns (Lewis and Vickers); telephones; 
buzzer sets; the cleaning of rifles. One wonders how the dynamic princi- 
pal had time for anything else. 

In September 19 19 Sergeant Carpenter, now a Sergeant-Major, 
returned to the College to assist A. L. Cochrane with physical educa- 
tion. There is no doubt that his influence, more than any other, created 
a cadet corps that became a vital part of UCC life for many years. By 
1926 all ranks had risen to 271, and the following year a fifth platoon 
was added. This was a far cry from the pre-war years, and, without 
doubt, the result of Carpenter's dedication, supported by Principal 
Grant's enormous enthusiasm. An Old Boy has written about the era of 
the early twenties: 

The Rifle Company was an accepted activity of reasonable impor- 
tance at the College. . . . Participation was expected unless a boy could 
show good reason for exemption. . . . The Annual Ball and the Inspec- 
tion were gala events, attended in strength by the fairest representa- 
tive of BSS, Havergal and Branksome. The Bugle Band and drums 
attracted those with musical talent and the enthusiasts . . . attended an 
NCO Class ... in the early morning. 

. . . the high numbers of the Canadian senior officers in the Second 
World War who were Old Boys, were nurtured in the Rifle Company 



by . . . Carpenter. . . . The seeds of duty, discipline and cooperation did 
not fall on barren ground. 

Prior to 19 14 the company had been affiliated with the Queen's 
Own Rifles, but during the European conflict the militia system was in 
abeyance. Consequently, the cadet corps had fallen into some disarray, 
and the connection with the QOR had lapsed. For the first few years 
under Grant and Carpenter, the UCC corps was an independent unit, 
but the boys did not like that very much. 

In 1923 two regiments were anxious to have the College corps as an 
affiliate. Both the Toronto Regiment's Colonel D. H. C. Mason and the 
Queen's Own's Sir Henry Pellatt asked Grant to join them, but not 
wanting to show favouritism, he turned both down. In 1925 Grant con- 
ceived the idea of taking turns, and so the boys paraded that spring 
with the QOR and the next spring with the Toronto Regiment. Appar- 
ently there was a cry of outrage from the Queen's Own, because Grant 
wrote to Sir John Willison, a member of the College board, to express 
surprise at the amount of feeling aroused by this innocuous action. (The 
Toronto Regiment had grown out of the 3rd Battalion, and some ill- 
feeling had developed between them and the QOR.) Both regiments had 
Old Boys in prominent positions — Seth Pepler, the commanding officer 
of the Toronto Regiment, had inspected the College cadets that 
spring — and both wanted the affiliation as a prime source of young 
officers. From 1927 on, the College was affiliated with the Queen's Own 

In those post-war years, cadet training was taken very seriously, not 
just at the College but in many parts of the educational world. A dozen 
or more university professors and clergymen, including Chancellor Bur- 
wash of Victoria, Archdeacon Cody of Toronto, Rabbi Jacobs of Holy 
Blossom Synagogue, and V. L. Hughes, Chief Inspector of Toronto 
Schools, signed a lengthy propaganda pamphlet entitled The Cadet Sys- 
tem in Schools, which extolled the virtues of cadet corps while ignoring 
their vices. According to this document: 

Cadet drill did not instil a spirit of militarism. Boys enjoyed it for its 



immediate effects. Universal liability for defence was right; the ques- 
tion was how best to provide it. The Cadet system provided the train- 
ing "when lessons learned . . . are never forgotten"; it was cheaper to 
train citizens when at school than later; it interfered with ordinary 
duties less; it qualified men for more complete training in a shorter 
time in the event of war; a cadet was not a soldier — he was a boy disci- 
plined through wholesome exercises; drill exercises were good for dig- 
nified bearing and a graceful carriage, both of which would influence 
him morally for good; the military training in Germany testified to the 
improvement in health, strength, bearing, and self-respect . . . ; it 
trained boys to be . . . obedient; it developed a boy's genuine patriot- 
ism; they could be made proud of their King, their flag, wearing the 
King's uniform, keeping step to patriotic British-Canadian music 
behind the Union Jack; it trained a boy to be careful of his language 
and manners ... to value neatness and cleanliness. 4 

Grant, asked to sign this extraordinary document, politely declined, 
saying vaguely that there were one or two ideas he did not agree with. 
Enthusiastic as he was about some aspects of the Upper Canada cadets 
corps, which stressed discipline as an antidote to licence and duties 
rather than privileges, and supportive as he was about the imperial con- 
cept, he could not stomach the whole message. In truth, as a pacifist, he 
was probably ambivalent about the corps. 

The solemnity with which cadet training was taken at the time con- 
trasted absurdly with the comedy that kept bursting to the surface. The 
Sunday before the presentation of the colours to the Rifle Company, the 
boys were scheduled to parade at Christ Church Deer Park. The ser- 
mon that morning was to be an appeal to vote "yes" on a referendum 
on whether Toronto should remain dry. Principal Grant took immense 
pains to point out that, although he agreed that drunkenness was an 
admitted evil which all Christians must fight, the referendum was a 
question on which devout Christians could differ. He could not take the 
responsibility of having an official UCC parade to an address which 
equated a positive vote as the duty of Christians. An Old Boy expressed 
disappointment at the cancellation of the parade and ended his mes- 



sage, "Is the Gooderham and 'Wet' influence to govern at the College 
and College functions? I will not be present on April 25th." 5 

Comedy made itself felt at the Rifle Company dance, too, as the fol- 
lowing letter attests. 

Dear Mr. Grant, It appears that I am supposed to have forced my way 
into the College Rifle Company dance at the point of a revolver. 
While waiting to obtain permission to enter, I showed a revolver, 
which I always carry at night, to the ticket-collector. I did not point 
the revolver at anyone, merely brought it to view. At the same time I 
remarked, smilingly "Try and keep me out!" Rather foolish, I will 
admit but I naturally meant it jokingly and was led to believe that, as 
such it had been taken. I am very sorry that it seems to have been 
otherwise. I hope you will accept my apology and now consider the 
matter at an end. Awaiting the relief of your favourable reply, I am, 
Yours sincerely, 6 


In December 1924, a court of inquiry was convened for the purpose 

investigating and reporting on the loss of one belt, waist, and one frog 
bayonet on charge to Upper Canada College Cadet Corps, Toronto 
and to decide upon whom shall fall the cost of replacement. 

The court having assembled, it proceeded to take evidence: 

1st Witness. — Cadet Lieut. J. Y. Woods, ucccc having been duly 
sworn states: at Upper Canada College, on the evening of November 
20th, 1924, I was playing badminton in the gymnasium with friends. 
Smoke was smelt. On investigating we perceived flames shooting from 
the locker. The fire was put out with three extinguishers and the hose. 
The door was pried open and the rifle found partially burnt also the 
remains of a belt, bayonet, and scabbard. 

4th Witness — Principal W. L. Grant having been duly sworn states: I 
am Principal of Upper Canada College, all precautions against fire 



including a night watchman are taken. The fire in question entailing 
loss of military arms etc., has been investigated, but we have been 
unable to trace its cause. 


The Court having considered the foregoing evidence and having 
viewed the equipment destroyed by fire beyond repair, report that as 
far as can be ascertained the fire occurred quite accidently and was 
promptly extinguished, and the loss of equipment entailed was quite 
unavoidable and recommend that 

i Belt Waist (p.p.) (191 4) valued at $1.26 

1 Frog Bayonet 040 

Total. Si. 66 
be replaced at the expense of the Public. 7 

The affair of the burned belt and scabbard was still alive in Febru- 
ary when a letter from the ordnance office noted conflicting evidence 
about the locked door; was it open or wasn't it? In reply, Principal 
Grant, with monumental patience, stated that he had done all a man 
could do and hoped he could be left free for other duties. 

In 1929 the College celebrated its centennial, and as part of the 
jubilee, new uniforms were devised by the commanding officer and the 
adjutant. The key changes were: "ucc" blue replaced khaki; berets 
(just being introduced to the tank corps) replaced the peak caps; and 
black gaiters replaced the puttees. This uniform, worn in October 1930 
for the first time, is still worn by the members of the voluntary cadet 
organization. As further evidence of its success, the company became a 
battalion with eight platoons. 

The thirties brought some anti-battalion sentiment to the fore. B. K. 
Sandwell, one-time editor of The College Times and in 1932 the editor of 
Saturday Night, wrote: 

The whole question of cadet training in schools is surrounded by so 
many misconceptions that any action which the school authorities in 
Toronto may take concerning it is pretty sure to be misinterpreted. On 



the one hand there is the misconception, the most serious of the lot, 
which regards cadet training as a means of influencing the opinion of 
the rising generation in favor of a regimented set of 1932 ideas con- 
cerning the structure of society, the nature of property, and the abso- 
lute authority of the state. Cadet training has actually very little 
influence of this kind even on minds predisposed in such directions, 
and on minds with any leaning in the opposite direction it has the 
opposite effect. On another hand there is the misconception that if the 
youth of the land were never given any training in the arts of war they 
would never have any occasion to employ them, and the country 
would infallibly enjoy perpetual peace. 

Between these two extravagant notions lies the truth, which is that 
during the adolescent stage of growth, a stage in which the individual 
is chiefly concerned — and frequently much bothered — about perfect- 
ing his own adaptations to the impinging surfaces of the human life 
around him, much help may be given him by a reasonable amount of 
drill in which he and all his fellows are treated as mere units in a 
machine made up of a great number of human bodies. The sense of 
being part of such a machine, and of functioning well in it and having 
it function well around one, is one of the most precious of the possible 
acquisitions of youth, and plays a large part in the conversion of the 
loutish youth into the presentable young man. But it should not be 
overdone, and more important yet, it should not be taken too serious- 
ly. I question greatly whether youngsters of fifteen should be told that 
their King and Country will be in a mess if they do not left-wheel with 
perfect precision on the drill-sergeant's word of command. Youngsters 
of ten certainly should not and probably should not be taught to left- 
wheel at all except as they do it in play in admiring imitation of their 
gloriously uniformed elders. 

There is no question of Toronto endorsing the non-preparedness 
views of which Miss Agnes Macphail is perhaps our chief exponent. 
There may be a quesiton of Toronto withdrawing somewhat from a 
too extensive and over-emphasized pursuit of loyalty by means of leg 

In spite of such statements the battalion gathered strength and in 
1935, when it helped the QOR celebrate its seventy-fifth anniversary, 



there were nineteen officers and forty-four NCO's. Although no awards 
were given for the best cadet corps, the ucc standard was very high 

In June 1938 Sergeant-Major Carpenter, "the SM," retired to his 
ancestral home in North Wales. He had been an inspiration, the heart 
and the soul of the cadet corps for almost twenty years. He had taken a 
personal interest in virtually every member of it and had overseen every 
detail of its development. That the battalion endured as long as it did is 
due to the foundation he laid down between the two wars. 

For the next twenty-five years the battalion was an accepted part of 
the College fabric. In addition to the drills and ceremonials, various 
practical exercises were introduced to keep abreast of the times. The 
boys themselves were sometimes more aware of the need to up-date pro- 
cedures than the administration. In The College Times of Christmas 1942, 
in the blackest months of the Second World War, D. G. Hahn 
expressed the view that the battalion was out of date and had been for 
three years. Hahn wanted less time on drill, more time on the practical: 
lectures, map reading, military law, signalling, etc. As the months 
passed, some of these developments took place. 

By the sixties, the unquestioning loyalty to the whole idea of a cadet 
corps began to waver. The seeds may have been sown in the thirties and 
only begun to break surface in the fifties. The old certainties were being 
questioned. Was imperialism a good thing? No question in 1900 or 
1915; but under the hammer-blows of war, depression, and commu- 
nism, and demands for self-determination, the British and other 
empires had been steadily disintegrating. Religion and patriotism had 
lost their hold on youth. It became harder to discover a fixed purpose in 
life. The Vietnam War, brought into homes by television, confirmed to 
a civilian population that the glamour of war was a myth. 

An organization like the cadet battalion, depending so much on tra- 
dition in an age when tradition had lost some of its gloss, was bound to 
suffer. In June 1965 the Board of Governors' minutes noted, for the first 
time in sixty years, bad discipline at the battalion parade. The same 
month the CO of the battalion, R. F. G. Walsh, wrote thoughtfully: 



The Battalion is always subjected to a great deal of criticism. I feel 
I must present some arguments on behalf of the Battalion. During the 
nineteenth century every young man was inspired with the thoughts of 
military service. Today in the twentieth century, youth does not pos- 
sess this natural love for anything military. Thus we have a certain 
lack of interest present in matters to do with the Battalion. I must 
agree that some of the present activities of our Cadets corps are greatly 
removed from the idea of a modern army. However, much of the win- 
ter courses relate to modern-day equipment and warfare. FN's, the 
rifles of the Canadian army, are understood by cadets. A lecture on 
national survival is given to every cadet. Lectures in first aid and map 
using are also given. One might say that the .22 and .303 rifles that the 
Battalion uses on parades are obsolete and be correct. The point, how- 
ever, is that cadets do learn a sense of self control, a sense of self disci- 
pline and a certain respect for tradition. It is not easy to stand for 
fifteen minutes without moving. It is not easy to prevent yourself from 
talking back to someone. Upper Canada tries to instill in every pupil 
this sense of self-control and discipline 

Officers are classed as the "elite" of the Cadets corps. But behind 
the facade of "Sam Brown[e]s" and silver hat badges lies a certain 
ability to lead and to explain. Ever since the foundation of the Battal- 
ion young men have been produced who have acquired the ability to 
lead. Undoubtedly these young men will in the future hold positions 
requiring responsibility in all facets of life. Thus the Battalion will 
have yielded men accustomed to possessing a position of responsibility. 
The statement that you must learn to take commands before you give 
them seems to apply to our Battalion. Most of the "gripers" do not 
possess rank of any sort. It is these people I feel who have not learned 
to take orders and thus are not fit to "give" orders. 

The role of the Battalion will never become impractical as it is 
claimed. Boys will continually apply their energy and resources to 
cadets and thus they will receive certain intangible qualities of charac- 
ter which will stand them in good stead for their whole lives. 

Various proposals were adopted during the following years in order 
to give the battalion more meaning, but the graph pointed steadily 



downwards. John Boeckh, the cadet colonel in 1974 and a third-genera- 
tion College student, wrote: 

It would be foolish to assume that Battalion holds the interest of as 
many people as it used to. In today's "Modern Society" there are 
many activities to captivate the mind of the young student, and com- 
pulsory military service does not seem to generate the violent enthusi- 
asm that it once did. However, Battalion does have a purpose for those 
who try to derive some usefulness from it, but they, unfortunately, are 
the exception, not the rule. The Battalion's benefit lies not in terms of 
the military knowledge rendered but, rather, in the message it tries to 
convey. Nowadays, it is fashionable and desirable to "do your own 
thing." However, one must realize (as too few do) that one cannot do 
only what one pleases. 

It is becoming increasingly difficult to run a Battalion with only 
token support from some quarters. . . . 

The following year from Christopher Neal: 

The Upper Canada College Cadet Battalion survived another year 
despite growing disapproval from boys as well as criticism from mem- 
bers of the Board of Stewards. 

In the most recent years some comments have been made, in a 
genuine attempt to justify the continuance of the corps at UCC — and 
some of the arguments have been well thought out. 

My main comments concern the lack of development shown in the 
Corps of today. All other aspects of school life have changed, and have 
followed a direction of evolution — not so with the Cadet corps. It is 
true that standards of dress and deportments have been lowered by 
following the civilian patterns, but is that progress? I do not argue 
with these changes; they were probably inevitable — but progress? I 
have a plea to leave with the Cadet corps. Let it progress or it will 
surely die. New equipment, such as teaching aids, weapons and cloth- 
ing could be introduced, on loan if necessary, as they are to other 
Cadets Corps. 

I believe that if the Upper Canada College Cadet Battalion is to 



remain a viable, and meaningful part of ucc life, then it must change, 
and I personally would prefer to see it changed rather than disbanded. 

The principal, Richard Sadleir, after due consideration, disbanded 
the cadet battalion as a compulsory College institution as of January 
1976. His remarks are notable: 

"What do you think of the Battalion?" Since returning to the College 
last January, no question has been put to me more frequently by boys, 
parents, and Old Boys. I have been subjected to a barrage of 
conflicting opinion upon this controversial aspect of the College's pro- 

The Battalion has been left with little beyond its ceremonial drill 
which is a pretty irrelevant exercise to many people today and difficult 
to defend when it becomes the be-all and end-all of a program. 

While boys of the school appeared to do their best on inspection 
day last May, to my mind, their best was not very good, and certainly 
without much heart. 

Since then I have discussed directly a revision of the Battalion pro- 
gram with scores of people, including the Board of Governors, the 
masters, the Board of Stewards, Old Boys, parents, other headmasters, 
active and retired officers of regiments of the militia and the naval 
reserve. There was almost a unanimous opinion that substantial 
change was necessary and necessary now. Consequently, effective Jan- 
uary 1, 1976, the Battalion program will, until further notice, become 
a voluntary activity at Upper Canada College. The annual inspection 
in its traditional form will not, therefore, be held this year. 

For many Old Boys the end was greeted with some dismay, bitter- 
ness, and sadness. After all, the cadets had been a part of the College 
life since before the turn of the century, and many pupils had found 
security and had experienced growth in the uniform. Moreover there 
was an undercurrent of feeling, especially among older men, that the 
battalion had been a nursery for the officers and men who had per- 
formed so brilliantly and courageously, not only during two world wars, 



but in the Crimea, during the Fenian troubles, and in South Africa. 
Only time can soften this sense of loss. 

In the years since the compulsory battalion was disbanded, a volun- 
tary organization has existed. Starting in 1977 the Army Cadet League 
of Canada helped to organize a course in military science. A new 
approach to cadet activities was planned which took into account not 
only military science, but battle drill, field craft, weapons training, and 
a modicum of parade-square drill. It was a totally new course, more 
advanced and educational than any cadet program yet evolved: ele- 
mentary tactics, military history, theories of leadership and command, 
as well as other items were included. The number of students involved 
has been about thirty. 



The Prep 

child of the twentieth century, but the concept of young boys attend- 
ing the College goes back to its inception. Advertisements began to 
appear in Ontario newspapers in late 1829, heralding the College's 
opening. The Kingston Chronicle offered special terms to boarders six to 
twelve years of age, and the Upper Canada Gazette announced that a pre- 
paratory school would be attached. Although no special building was 
set aside at the King and Simcoe campus then being constructed, a hur- 
ried decision was made to add a room to the Old Blue School in College 
Square. This room, 24 feet long, 18 feet wide, and 10 feet high, cost £40 
and was the first preparatory school. 

Of the fifty-seven boys who arrived at the College on opening day, 
January 4, 1830, twenty-six were put into the prep. By the end of the 
first term, half of the eighty-nine students were prep boys. All the ages 
are not available, but two of the youngest "originals" were George 
Murray Jarvis, five years and nine months, and Edward Sherwood, six 
years and nine months. Another five-year-old, James Stanton, son of 
the King's Printer for Upper Canada, appeared in October. As the 
early years passed, the ages of the prep boys varied enormously, and the 
register shows boys of sixteen and seventeen entered — perhaps they 
were illiterate in Latin. 

The prep had its own master in those early days. The first was the 
Reverend J. W. Padfield; he was replaced by the Reverend John Kent 
in 1833. Padfield's salary was £150 per annum, considerably below his 
colleagues in the senior forms, reflecting the widespread view of the ele- 



mentary teacher still alive in some places today. It is true that his aca- 
demic qualifications were not on a par with those of his senior-form 
counterparts, but his work load was considerably heavier — most senior 
forms had fewer than nine boys in them. The curriculum consisted of 
English reading and spelling, writing, the elements of arithmetic, and 
the first rudiments of Latin grammar. When the boys had mastered the 
Latin, they moved up into the first form. 

Between 1833 and 1897 the preparatory school became simply a 
preparatory form and then disappeared. In January 1897 the principal, 
George Parkin, reporting to the board on the state of the school, said 
that many boys entered UCC at fourteen, fifteen, or even sixteen years of 
age with no knowledge of languages. Tutoring was expensive for par- 
ents and hard on the masters. These boys should come to UCC earlier. 
The word "prep" was not mentioned, but prep seeds were now scat- 
tered abroad. By the following September a preparatory form of ten 
boys had been organized, and in December an extra master, A. W. 
Playfair, was hired to take over the young form. 

Two years later, Parkin pulled out all the stops in a memorandum 
which outlined his future plans for ucc. He was very keen on breaking 
up the school into smaller units, or houses, and eventually bringing 
both the houses themselves and the masters in charge of them onto the 
grounds. The most important of these units was the preparatory, which 
he over-optimistically wanted to be ready for September 1900. It was to 
accommodate thirty boarders and thirty day boys at a cost of $25,000. 

When the College achieved independence in November 1900, one 
of the government's conditions was an endowment of $50,000. This sum 
was collected and immediately allocated to a prep. Parkin felt that the 
building of a preparatory school was of the utmost importance, and he 
was filled with a great sense of urgency. He had already some plans in 
his head — dormitories of sixteen boys each with space for another dorm. 
He wanted the school open for the next September. 

A committee of Parkin, the Toronto architect Eden Smith, Frank 
Arnoldi (the College solicitor), and two board members, John Hender- 
son and W. T. Boyd, was appointed to report to the board on all details 
connected with the new venture. Parkin's first idea was to lease thirty 



acres near the College for extra playing fields. When it was decided to 
place the building at the north-east corner of Lonsdale and Forest Hill 
roads, the committee looked to ten acres across Forest Hill Road, as 
well as another ten north of the College. In April it was reported that 
options had been taken on 22.5 acres, whose final cost was $10,830. Five 
men— W. G. Gooderham, J. W. Flavelle, W. R. Brock, W. H. Beatty, 
and W. D. Matthews — each pledged two thousand dollars for the land 
purchase. City Council meanwhile agreed to divert Forest Hill Road a 
block to the west. By November 1901 Parkin could report that the 
filling in of Forest Hill Road was going briskly and a row of elms had 
been planted on the new western boundaries, the present-day Dunve- 
gan Road. The College now had an unbroken square of fifty acres, and 
the prospective prep a brand-new playing field at its back. 

Meanwhile, specifications for the new building had been author- 
ized. E. R. Peacock, senior housemaster and head of the English depart- 
ment, was designated to work with Eden Smith on the design. Plans 
called for a three-storey brick structure with a basement for dressing- 
rooms, lockers, and showers; a large playroom or gym; a workshop; and 
a dark room. There was a dumb-waiter for trunks. On the first floor 
were three classrooms, a dining-hall with a fireplace, kitchens, music 
rooms, a reading-room, and a recreation room. On the top floors were 
dormitories, masters' rooms, and a sick room — in fact everything a 
school of a hundred boys could want. The boys' living arrangements 
were a special feature: in addition to every boy having his own wash 
basin and locker for washing gear, laundry bag, etc., each of the four 
dormitories was divided into separate cubicles with curtains for privacy. 
This was most unheard of in 1901 and may have reflected the Thring- 
Parkin influence. 

Parkin's original estimate of $25,000 was, as such estimates usually 
are, optimistic. In February 1901 it was $35,000; in March, $40,000. 
The final cost was in the neighbourhood of $50,000, but the money was 

In May 1901 Parkin wrote to his good friend, Lady Minto, wife of 
the Governor General, asking her if she would lay the cornerstone of the 
new building. Delighted to be connected with what she conceived to be 



an admirable school, she consented to come. On June 15, in the pres- 
ence of an enormous crowd and the band of the Royal Grenadier 
Guards, the ceremony duly took place. Beneath the cornerstone was a 
box containing the papers of that date and a roll containing the names 
of all the students since 1829. This useful and flexible building was 
called the Prep until a classroom addition was erected in 1922-23, when 
it became known as the House or the 1902 Building. Just before he died 
in November 1962, Sir Edward Peacock approved the wording of an 
inscription over its main doors and it is now the Peacock Building. 

As the Prep turned from a dream into a reality, Parkin became 
vitally concerned about a headmaster and a matron. For the matron, 
circumstances helped to dictate the choice. Small out-of-town boys, 
some of whom needed careful treatment in health and diet, had contin- 
ued to apply. The new Prep not being ready, special arrangements had 
had to be made for them, and they had been put in the care of Parkin's 
eldest daughter, Alice. By September 1901 seven small boys were living 
in the Parkin house, and Alice was being paid eighteen dollars a month 
to look after them. (She dressed them in Eton suits and expressed the 
desire to have eleven of them so she could form a cricket team.) As the 
time came closer for the Prep to open, it was evident that Alice, who 
liked the work and did it well, wanted to be the first matron. She had 
impressed some mothers, who favoured her appointment, but her par- 
ents thought it would be impossible. They were wrong. When school 
opened in September 1902, Miss A. S. Parkin was the Lady Superin- 
tendent of the Preparatory School. 1 

Choosing a headmaster for the Prep was a different matter. E. R. 
Peacock had drawn up the plans for the building and Eden Smith had 
thought them first class, which, indeed, seventy-odd years have proved 
them to be. Parkin had promised Peacock the headmastership, and 
Peacock had asked W. L. Grant to join him as his chief assistant. Grant 
and Peacock got along very well together, and Grant agreed. Parkin 
confirmed the arrangements with them both. In June 1901, however, 
Parkin wrote to the board chairman, G. T. Denison, "It has been my 
intention to recommend the appointment of Mr. Peacock as the best 
available man in the College to take charge of the Preparatory School if 



suitable domestic arrangements could be made. ... It would be well 
for the Board to go very carefully into this question as soon as pos- 
sible. . . . " 2 The letter goes on to speak "of the man who takes charge," 
almost as though, while he was writing the letter, Parkin was changing 
his mind. 

The next month the executive committee was considering a vice- 
principal who would live in the comfortable Prep quarters (the two jobs 
were tied together), but Peacock's name was not mentioned. The next 
time Parkin wrote to Denison, in September, Peacock's name was con- 
spicuous by its absence. Parkin was desperately anxious to get a first- 
class man of good reputation for work he considered more important 
than anything in the school. "I am not yet able to recommend a proper 
person," 3 he wrote. In November he confided to his diary that he was 
"thinking of writing to [Dr. M. G.] Glazebrook (headmaster of Clifton) 
... to make enquiries about a man competent enough to take up the 
Prep and perhaps the vice-principalship." 4 By December, Grant saw 
the writing on the wall, "Peacock has not much chance of his Prep 
House. ... "5 

For the first six months of 1902 Parkin vacillated about the appoint- 
ment without letting Peacock know. He was starting to doubt the wis- 
dom of combining the Prep with the vice-principalship. Applications 
flowed in from England; but he said he would not appoint anyone with- 
out going to England to see him. Mrs. Parkin, writing continually from 
England, where she had gone for her health, helped keep him off bal- 
ance. She did not want a perfect stranger in the Prep. She suggested the 
whole Parkin family moving in for a year or two. Parkin could not help 
being swayed by the woman he loved so well. He did consider moving 
in so that he could keep the place in his own hands, rationalizing such a 
move by saying a new headmaster would be expensive. He wrote Mrs. 
Parkin in April expressing fear at the risk of anyone but themselves 
starting a place on which they had staked so much. "The change of 

plan about Mr. P. has not been easy I am more and more convinced 

that our original idea might have led us into endless trouble. Of course 
what decided me was the opposition on the Board . . . making the 
change was very painful." 6 Peacock's autobiographical notes help to 



clarify the change of plans. "I . . . suggested to the Principal that he let 
me take over the Prep. This he promised, but when it came before the 
Governors they refused to let me give up the headship of the house. I 
said no more but immediately looked for a job outside. . . . " 7 

When the news came out, Grant was furious and Peacock took the 
news hard. Parkin reflected, "It is not easy to put anyone in his place . . . 
a few good clear talks may straighten things out." 8 Peacock did not take 
long to respond. By May 16 he had resigned to become personal assis- 
tant to E. R. Wood of Dominion Securities. He moved to England in 
1907 and climbed steadily upward in the financial world, becoming 
head of Baring Brothers, a Rhodes trustee, a director of the Bank of 
England, and financial advisor to the Royal Family. Though at the 
College for only seven years he made a powerful impact: he was a fine 
scholar and teacher, highly respected by boys and colleagues. 

The board's unwillingness to allow Parkin to keep his promise to 
Peacock is incomprehensible. UCC suffered an immeasurable loss. Pea- 
cock held two top College posts and had performed admirably at both. 
While planning the Prep he had worked weekend after weekend on the 
details of the classrooms, dining-hall, dormitories, and even the showers. 
He had been promised the job, wanted it, and deserved it. When 
cheated of it he felt sick and then angry, and in his anger he resigned. 
Grant, among others, resigned at the same time in protest. 9 

Parkin was not happy about the turn of events. The Prep was not 
settled, and a new man he had hoped to appoint there would not come 
because he felt he could not work on equal terms with J. S. H. Guest, a 
young master at the main school who was slated for the Prep. 

Parkin's last thoughts before he left for England were that he would 
try to find someone there to come over at Christmas, while Alice ran the 
domestic side of things. The idea of combining a Prep head and a vice- 
principal was set aside for the time being. J. S. H. Guest was appointed 
Senior Housemaster of the Preparatory School in the meantime. The 
building, delayed by a carpenters' strike, was ready for him in Septem- 

Guest's own memories of his start at the Prep are interesting. He 
pays tribute to Peacock's plan of the building. "Too many schools are 



planned by men who know nothing of the requirements of a boarding 
school. ... It was not so with the Prep. The building was . . . far ahead of 
any other school of its time . . . well-lighted, cheerful, and full of little 
thoughtful arrangements which made it easy to manage." 10 Guest knew 
that Peacock had agreed to take the headmaster's post, but thought he 
had resigned it in September 1901, not June 1902. Consequently, Guest 
said he had the job of organizing the Prep through 1901-02 and was 
offered the headship in March 1902. It does not seem likely that he 
would have been offered the job in March while Peacock was still 
expecting to get it, but the truth has been lost in the mists of time. 

Guest pays great tribute also to Alice Parkin's energy and ability in 
getting the school organized during the summer while everyone else was 
away. Workmen out, furniture in, curtains up, all details looked to. She 
left behind her rules about such things as laundry which Guest reck- 
oned were still in use fifty years later. 

When Upper Canada opened in September 1902, George Sparling 
was acting-principal and Guest was running the Prep. The first term 
there were twenty-four boarders and twenty-one day boys, half a school 
to be sure, but a promising start. 

Guest, a bachelor of twenty-nine, had taught for four years at an 
English grammar school and one year at the Upper School before tak- 
ing over the Prep. He specialized in Latin and French and taught well. 
Parkin had considered him a thoroughly good man with definite ideas 
and the ability to manage and interest boys. He was conscientious, thor- 
ough, reliable, systematic, and punctual. Guest soon proved to be head- 
master material. At the end of his first term he spoke of moral training, 
self-reliance, and bodily strength as three requirements for Prep boys. 
He stressed thorough supervision in an atmosphere as much like home 
as possible. Work was a thing to be done well for its own sake, not 
merely for examinations. Prep boys were to be kept separate from the 
older boys in work and games. (This concept became a tradition which 
has lasted over seventy years.) Soccer, not football, was to be the 
autumn sport in order to give younger, lighter boys a chance to do well. 
Guest wanted the Prep to prove a source of strength for the College — to 
raise the standard of scholarship and provide it with a constant supply 



of boys with a couple of years' good work habits, manners, and disci- 
pline, loyal to the College and its traditions. 

Guest had nine years at the Prep. He was not an exciting innovator 
but he was sound and thorough, the sort that checked the boys in the 
dining-hall to see that all shoes had been shone. The school was a suc- 
cess from its first day. The enrolment had more than doubled by the 
end of 1906 and never fell below a hundred between 1906 and 191 1. It 
was a somewhat one-sided success, however. While day-boy numbers 
climbed from twenty-one to sixty-five, boarders numbered only thirty- 
six throughout most of the same period, reaching fifty in only one year, 
1907-8. The boarder "problem" is one which has plagued the school 
during its entire history. 

During the Guest years, the program developed well: there was an 
annual snowshoe race, the odd paper-chase, visiting speakers, carpen- 
try, and a much-used gym. In 1908 a dancing class was started, the 
library was expanded, and a soccer tournament was held. The next 
year some scenes from The Merchant of Venice were performed, and a dra- 
matic club was organized soon afterwards. Even tennis was played in a 
rough fashion. Team sports against outside competition grew slowly 
and steadily. The Prep played hockey against the St. James' Choir on 
January 30, 1904, its first recorded official game." 

In 1905 and thereafter, a boxing tournament was organized; the 
same year a cross-country run was spurred on by a trophy presented by 
E. R. Peacock. In 1907 the new area west of the Prep was levelled and 
turned into a Prep cricket field, paid for by an Old Boy, H. D. Warren. 

Six years after its birth, the Prep had outgrown its new home and an 
additional classroom had to be added to the south-west corner of the 
building; it had a sun room on top of it. When Guest left in 191 1 to 
open his own school — Appleby, in Oakville — he left behind him a 
thriving community. He had lived up to Parkin's assessment: conscien- 
tious, thorough, reliable. The masters he appointed did not make much 
of a mark with the exception of one — J. N. B. Colley. Jim Colley stayed 
only four years, from 1906 to 19 10, but he must have liked the work and 
the boys because he returned to the Prep in 1939 and stayed for twenty 
more years. He was an ardent classicist and a fine cricketer, a gentle 



man. Alan Stephen, his headmaster the second time, said, "Nothing 
can go really wrong when Jim Colley's around." 

On April 28, 191 1, the board appointed J. L. "Duke" Somerville to 
be the Dean of the Preparatory School at a salary of two thousand dol- 
lars. He had joined the College under Parkin in 1897, and had played a 
large part in its affairs since then. A difficult colleague and something of 
a malcontent, he had played a mysterious role in the Peacock affair, 
replacing him as senior housemaster in 1902. He was, however, an 
excellent teacher and a very powerful personality, who was remem- 
bered with a mixture of awe, fear, and reverence by Old Boys long after 
they had left the Prep. 

When Grant became principal in 191 7, the board told him that he 
was absolute in his power and jurisdiction and, as a result, the Prep was 
under his control. He was also asked "to enter into the most considerate 
relations with Mr. Somerville and to bring about . . . unlimited coopera- 
tion. . . . " I2 These two mutually contradictory instructions were 
undoubtedly the board's way of trying to deal with the difficult Duke. 
In truth, as the years passed, Grant and Somerville did not get along. 
The principal was not welcome at the Prep and did not come. (It is said 
that Somerville had been in love with Alice Parkin, and, as a result, 
never turned up at the principal's house. Alice had married Vincent 
Massey in 1915; her sister Maude was the principal's wife.) 

During Somerville's twenty-three years, the Prep's enrolment grew 
steadily, sometimes dramatically. There were no entrance tests; if Som- 
erville liked your father, you were in. Guest had taken some students to 
Appleby with him, and the Duke's Prep opened with eighty-seven boys. 
Eight years later the number had virtually doubled. The day-boy popu- 
lation grew strongly; the boarding situation was a different matter. The 
average number of boarders in any year was forty-one, not enough to 
fill three dormitories, let alone four.' 3 

The Prep's classrooms were bursting at the seams. Principal Grant 
called it an ant-heap. A temporary solution was found through the use 
of two portables in 192 1. In January 1922, facing a Prep population of 
180 in a school built for 100, the board considered the advisability of 
building an extension. The legislature gave the board permission to bor- 



row $100,000, and $60,000 of this was designated for the Prep classroom 
block. The new building designed by Sproatt and Rolph was begun, 
and in November 1922, the Lieutenant-Governor laid the cornerstone. 
Named the Parkin Building, it opened for business in September 1923 
with a school population of 244. A new Prep chapter was started. 

This building was not a total success. The original estimate of 
$63,000 had ballooned to $1 10,000, and the architects were heavily cen- 
sured. It took two years to collect the money and the final $io,ooo-plus 
was donated by W. G. Gooderham. Grant was exasperated by the extra 
cost, though he did admit the Prep was a joy to see. The building, 
attractive in some ways and built like the Rock of Gibraltar, was oddly 
placed: on an east- west axis with all the classrooms facing south (very 
hot in June!); also it fitted uneasily into the architectural style of the 
1902 building. It accommodated the student body, however, and gave 
the boarders more breathing space. Yet even as the cornerstone was 
being laid, Grant was setting impossibly low enrolment goals. He 
warned parents that the Prep was not going to grow very much, and 
that his ideal for the school was to do first-class work with two hundred 
picked boys. The Prep enrolment did not drop that low for ten years, 
and then only because of the disastrous economic situation. 

During the late twenties the Prep continued to flourish. In 1928 
Grant felt that the Upper School building was both overcrowded and 
wearing out. The governors found another site at the top of the north- 
ern slope of Hogg's Hollow on Yonge Street. The site committee 
warned Grant and the board that Prep parents would not send their 
sons to the new location and that part or all of the Prep should be left at 
Deer Park. This, of course, lessened the amount of saleable land and 
showed how important the Prep had became as a feeder to the Upper 
School. The move did not take place. 

During Somerville's regime a tradition began which has lived on at 
the Prep until the present day. It is a tradition which came from the 
Upper School — namely, that good teachers come and like the place 
and stay. In 191 2 F. N. Hollingshead arrived to teach mathematics and 
coach the football team. He did both for twenty-nine years. In 191 6 
came H. Earl Elliott, called Bill, who also taught mathematics and 



coached hockey. He left in 1959 after forty-three years. In 1920 Samuel 
Foote, writer, painter, craftsman, musician, dancer — he of the 16- 
cylinder Cadillac and Stutz fame — arrived and stayed twenty-eight 
years. He was followed by Timothy Gibson in 1923 and S. Alan Harris 
in 1925. Gibson taught Latin and mathematics, coached virtually every 
game, and left in 1966. Harris, another mathematician, coached the 
first soccer team for many years, coached hockey as well, and was 
instrumental in bringing Norval back to life. He left in 1965. For six- 
teen years these five worked together in harness on a teaching staff of 
about ten. 

Surrounding this nucleus of able and interesting men were others 
who did not stay but who enriched the lives of the boys: Philip Ket- 
chum, one of the four teaching brothers, who later became headmaster 
of Trinity College School; W. R. "Bill" Stewart, who went on to 
become assistant superintendent of secondary education, and then dep- 
uty minister of education for the province; Arthur Killip, long-time 
headmaster of Hillfield School in Hamilton; Eric Morse, well-known 
Canadian canoeist and woodsman; George Spragge, author and educa- 
tional archivist. On the distaff side was Agnes McQuistan — known only 
as "Nurse" — who inspected between the toes and behind the ears of 
thirty-two years' worth of boarders. Whether Grant or Somerville made 
the appointments upon which so much of the Prep's success depended is 
a moot point. Regardless, they became Somerville's men and the Prep 
was his school. 

A complex man with a many-sided personality, Somerville ran the 
Prep like a personal fiefdom. There is no evidence that he introduced a 
single new idea into the curriculum or allowed anyone else to do so. He 
seems not to have written a single word concerning his ideas about edu- 
cation. He was a terrible organizer, throwing the boys every which way 
into any form. Parents were kept well away; their ideas were not wel- 
come. He had a running love-hate relationship with some of his col- 
leagues; there were no discussions, no meetings. If a man asked to 
attend an out-of-town school game, and Somerville himself could not 
go, the answer was, "No." He carried the men's monthly pay-cheques 
sticking out of his pocket and handed them out when he chose. He was 



jealous of men getting along too well with the boys and forbade them to 
bowl at the cricket nets. Elliott, who eventually outlasted all Prep mas- 
ters, left once for four years because he could not stand it. When a new 
master arrived from England, the Duke chose not to speak to him for 
six days, though he knew perfectly well who he was. Making a job offer 
to another man, the Duke promised him he would not need to teach 
French. On the new master's arrival, Somerville told him he was teach- 
ing all the French in the school. He left the man trembling with rage 
until the timetable came out — no French! Despite this cruel humour 
and a streak of sadism, the Duke could be, and often was, extremely 
kind and socially hospitable. He showed one face today, another tomor- 
row, and his reactions were unpredictable. With the boys, he was a fine 
teacher, even brilliant, and most boys thought the world of him. One 
Old Boy recalls Somerville having eight boarders in every evening to go 
over their homework — that boy felt loved. The only time the Duke was 
ever seen to be upset was when a master's pet squirrel ran up his pant 

The Depression caused the Prep's enrolment to drop and Somer- 
ville's retirement was hinted at. In February 1933 he announced his res- 
ignation. The board voted him an annual pension of $2,500 and his 
sixth form gave him a fountain pen inscribed to "The Duke." He 
pretended — for a moment — to be angry; he could not resist the acting. 

In the spring of 1934, in preparation for a third chapter in the Prep 
story, Grant produced a long memorandum outlining what was needed. 
A headmaster with a more up-to-date knowledge of teaching methods 
and better organizational skills came first. Then came better Upper 
School control of the Prep by the principal and the department heads; 
French taught instead of Latin in the early forms and taught in a less 
humdrum way; more time for, and better teaching of, English; a better 
library (there actually was not one); more drama; science apparatus; 
arts and crafts. Lastly, they needed better masters. Thus Grant was say- 
ing that the Prep needed a thorough overhauling because the Duke had 
let the school go to ruin. On many points he was totally accurate, but 
on one he was dead wrong: "none of [the masters] are men whose 
influence a boy will remember in after life as something vital." 14 Since 



Grant had not been very welcome at the Prep, he can be excused for 
such a glaring error. But he had not done his homework. Elliott's 
hockey teams remembered him long after they had forgotten most other 
parts of their school life; many Old Boys considered Foote or Gibson or 
Harris among the best teachers they ever had, and decades later they 
considered them friends as well. Grant's feud with Somerville resulted 
in judgments which were too harsh. He wrote to Peacock that Somer- 
ville was loyal to UCC as he saw it, but his epitaph should read: 

Here lies J. L. Somerville 

Who played the malcontent under three principals. 15 

A year later Grant was dead, and Somerville's successor was turning 
the Prep inside out. 

To succeed Somerville the board chose a man so unlike him that the 
two might have come from different planets. Their one common interest 
was their work. Alan G. A. Stephen was a Yorkshireman, aged thirty- 
two, who had come to Canada in 1925, via Shrewsbury and Balliol Col- 
lege, Oxford, where he had taken an honours degree in history, and the 
University of London, where he had taken a diploma in education. He 
had been marked for the Prep while at Oxford by George Glazebrook, 
Old Boy and eminent Canadian historian. Stephen was the first 
Englishman who had spoken to him in Oxford; they became friends, 
and Glazebrook suggested Stephen's name to Somerville. He came to 
the Prep for the year 1925-26, after which Somerville dismissed him. He 
returned to Christ's Hospital in England for four years and then came 
back to the Upper School to take over the history department, to coach 
cricket and soccer, to be Jackson housemaster, and to help run The Col- 
lege Times. Grant had a high opinion of Stephen who had "fire and visi- 
ble energy."' 6 He obtained the enthusiastic support of Alice and 
Vincent Massey, as well as that of W. H. Fyfe, principal of Queen's. 
When first appointed to run the Prep Stephen was labelled senior mas- 
ter, somewhat as Guest and even Somerville had been, but he soon was 
officially headmaster. The board obviously had difficulty coping with 
the concept of a principal and headmaster on the same campus. 



One central idea Stephen had brought with him from Christ's Hos- 
pital was the essential equality of secondary and elementary education. 
At that fine school there was no separation between the staffs; they used 
the same common room and were paid on the same scale. Art, craft, 
and music masters taught both levels; men wishing to move from ele- 
mentary to secondary classes were not being "promoted." So, to Ste- 
phen the Prep was not an appendage to the Upper School, it was a 
school in its own right. This unique association was accepted by the 
board, by Grant, and by Grant's successors to the present time. 

Stephen's energy turned the Prep into a hive of activity. "Steve," as 
he was known, was on the boys' side; everything, even superannuation, 
was to be decided in the boys' best interests. Parents, held at arm's 
length by Somerville, were immediately welcomed: a fathers' cricket 
match, instituted in 1935, is now an annual Prep affair; parents' eve- 
nings were begun; and mothers were invited to chauffeur groups. Eton 
collars went out; IQ tests and entrance exams came in. French was 
improved; a science room was set up. A select grade nine called Upper 
Remove was formed for very able boys too young for Upper School life. 
There was a school play his first year; later each form put on a play. 
Crafts, formerly reserved for boarders, were started for everyone; art 
was encouraged. There was a Prep chorus, then two of them. Musical 
instruments were much in evidence. The symphony was visited; there 
was a violin recital and a song recital; there were trips to the Winter 
Fair and the Museum. Steve had been a Scout leader in London, and 
scouting, then in its fourth year, received a tremendous boost. A camera 
club and numerous other hobbies sprang up. A library was fitted out, 
and books poured in. Later, every form had its own library and a spe- 
cial reading period was introduced into the curriculum. There were 
boarder weekends and reforestation projects at Norval, a ski club and 
overnight ski trips. A believer in token student government, Steve 
began an elected school committee which has lasted forty-five years. In 
the fifties there was a boarder newspaper. 

Though not a skilled athlete, Stephen encouraged games and was 
always out encouraging the boys. He was helped not a little by the 
superb 1934-35 hockey team, which swept all before it on the way to the 



city championship. A very warm feeling developed among Stephen, 
coach Elliott, and the team's parents, a feeling which lasted for decades. 
A first soccer team was also organized, but Steve was not only or even 
primarily a first-team man. A special skating program was organized 
for the very young boys, and second and third teams developed in all 
the team sports. Gymnastics was introduced and even a little tennis. 
Showers were installed to encourage cleanliness and diminish sweat. In 
short, Stephen spent virtually every waking hour thinking and discuss- 
ing ways in which the lives of the students could be enriched. 

In addition to his ability to "think small," that is to work out the 
tiniest detail of a myriad of activities, Steve also found time to "think 
big." One of his first concepts (which never fully came to fruition) was a 
pre-Prep of several classes which would provide the Prep with a con- 
stant supply of students, much as the Prep supplied the Upper School. 
The arrival of part of Mrs. Kay Milsom's Hillside School in 1942 was 
the response to this. He was always keenly interested in the education of 
gifted children who, he thought, were not allowed to push ahead at 
their own pace because of the provincial system's rigidity. In 1946 he 
wrote a very clear memorandum about this to the Hope Royal Com- 
mission, which was inquiring into the provincial educational system. At 
the Prep Stephen developed a rather complex promotion system 
designed to allow children to move ahead at their optimum speed. Ste- 
phen was instrumental, in 1949, in forming the Junior School Branch of 
the Canadian Headmasters' Association, an organization which is 
thriving thirty years later. 

Stephen's concern about people, so evident throughout his life, was 
not circumscribed by the Prep. In his early years at Upper Canada a 
collection was taken up every term for some charity. In 1940, after 
France fell and Britain was in peril, he opened the Prep doors to British 
children. In October 1941, eighty-one boys — almost a third of the 
Prep — had fled from the war. When the Upper School building crisis 
occurred in 1958, Steve immediately offered to share Prep facilities with 
administration, faculty, and students. 

All this activity at the Prep meant steady growth in numbers and 
reputation. Stephen took over a school of 169 boys, divided among ten 



masters; he handed on 299 boys, which included a full boarding-house 
of 56, and eighteen full-time masters. It was not long after his arrival 
that the Prep was turning away day boys; the boarding situation, how- 
ever, he never really succeeded in solving. In 1947 the board was told 
that Toronto boys constituted the great majority of boarders at the 
Prep. This did not change despite strenuous efforts to make boarding a 
pleasant experience and to convince parents everywhere that it was 
worth while. It was not until weekly boarding was introduced in 1964. 
just before Stephen left, that the boarding-house was filled as it had 
been during the war. 

Stephen left the physical plant much improved. Early on, gates 
were installed at the Prep entrance. In 1939, largely due to his enthusi- 
asm, Norval House was built for boarders' weekends. The Prep's fiftieth 
jubilee in 1952 17 gave Stephen the scope to expand the facilities vastly. 
About $400,000 was collected over five years for a combined gym-audi- 
torium, a separate headmaster's house, and a classroom-cum-office- 
block, linking the 1902 Building and the Parkin Building. The head- 
master's house enabled the Prep to have (for the first time) proper in- 
firmary facilities, a fine senior housemaster's apartment, an adequate 
masters' common room, and parents' reception rooms. In 1960-62, 
$200,000 was spent renovating the original 1902 building. Finally, as a 
parting gesture, a superb bunk-house named Stephen House was added 
to the Norval property. 

Stephen had inherited from Somerville that experienced nucleus of 
men already noted: Hollingshead, Elliott, Foote, Gibson, and Harris. 
Some of them survived Stephen's regime better than others, but for the 
first half of his headmastership, when most of his experiments and inno- 
vations took place, Elliott, Foote, Gibson, and Harris stayed with him, 
providing that enormously stable foundation that is so necessary. He 
himself appointed three long-term men, each of whom gave good serv- 
ice for more than twenty-five years: George Gait, who taught English 
and directed plays; Walter Ruffell, who taught English, maths, and 
Latin; and Henry Atack, who ran the music department. Stephen also 
brought three men to the Prep who eventually ran their own schools: 
Humphrey Bonnycastle, who went to Rothesay School in New Bruns- 



wick; John Schaffter, who went to St. John's-Ravenscourt in Winnipeg 
and later St. Michael's University School in Victoria; and Malcolm 
Maclnnes, head of St. Faith's, Cambridge. He was the first to bring a 
full-time art master and outstanding musicians to the Prep. In 1942 
Mrs. Kay Milsom came to stay nineteen years. Thirteen years after Ste- 
phen's retirement, ten men he selected to teach at Upper Canada Col- 
lege are still doing so. One of the best moves Stephen ever made was 
taking Charlotte Cruickshank onto the staff. For years Miss Cruick- 
shank formed an inseparable team with Mrs. McQuistan in the in- 
firmary, before taking charge of the dining-room. She retired in 1978 
after over forty years of looking after young boys in one way or another. 

Under Stephen's leadership the Prep was a lively, friendly, happy 
school with a high academic standard. Teaching at the Prep was not an 
adversary situation; the relationship between masters and boys was 
courteous and natural. The parents often went out of their way to wel- 
come new masters. This atmosphere was Stephen's, and he accom- 
plished it without pandering to the customers. (In fact, he undoubtedly 
rankled parents, especially Old Boys, when their sons were turned 
down.) Discipline was seldom a problem, based as it was on a general 
atmosphere of good order, created by the good motivation of most of the 
boys, a busy school day, enthusiastic co-operation from most parents 
and, generally, the respect shown by the masters for the boys' rights. 

The Prep was not free from problems, however. The faculty was 
underpaid, though Stephen did more than anyone else to try to rectify 
this. As early as 1936 he pointed out that some of the key Prep men 
could have received considerably higher salaries in the public system: 
some as much as a thousand dollars more. Again in 1949 he produced a 
schedule showing that the average Prep salary was at least five hundred 
dollars below the average Toronto public school salary. In March of the 
following year G. Y. Ormsby, the College bursar, produced a detailed 
memorandum showing the discrepancy to be over seven hundred dol- 
lars and the pension differential to be even greater. In 1954 Stephen 
lamented that he had trouble getting first-rate young Canadian mas- 
ters. Five years later an outstanding young Canadian master whom Ste- 



phen wanted to keep moved to Ottawa with an offer he could not 
refuse: $5,600 compared to the Prep's $3,800. 

Extra-curricular activities were left mainly to the housemasters 
towards the end of Stephen's time. He did not find much time for help- 
ing new teachers in the classroom, and so for most men it was sink or 
swim — not a bad arrangement if you are a good swimmer. Towards the 
end of his career very few significant changes took place: Stephen was 
running out of ideas and the younger men were not encouraged to pro- 
duce them. 

In retrospect Alan Stephen was, at least during his first twenty years 
in the saddle, ahead of his time. A kind man, humorous, of great physi- 
cial and moral courage, he left an indelible mark on Upper Canada 
College and on the Prep in particular. He created for it a separate and 
distinct personality which it continues to enjoy. 

Since 1966 the enrolment has increased to over 350, about the opti- 
mum size, without adversely affecting the atmosphere. More masters 
have been added, with the result that the pupil-teacher ratio has actu- 
ally improved. The men have tended to be trained in a specialty such as 
French or science, though most have a "minor" discipline as well. Work 
assignments have therefore been very flexible. 

Gradual trends in the curriculum had included much more time 
and emphasis on French, including trips to Quebec and to France; 
more time given to science, with special emphasis on practical and out- 
door work; a strong shift into Canadian studies; some environmental 
studies; inclusion in the curriculum of much more creativity — 
photography, film-making, pottery, drama, and printing have joined 
art and music. Instrumental music has had a phenomenal growth in the 
late seventies. 

In 1971-72 a second storey was added to the 1952 link between the 
Peacock and Parkin buildings. All the rooms, planned by the Prep mas- 
ters themselves, were designed for some special creative activity or else 
added strength to academic disciplines — a large library, and laborator- 
ies for mathematics and French. 

Many Prep masters have been skilled athletes and so there has been 
an increase in the number of teams and more coaching rather than just 



supervising. The almost total ascendency of three sports has been 
replaced by the free choice of a large variety of games, limited only by 
the facilities. The great advantage of this trend has been that far fewer 
boys are watching and more are participating themselves. 

Of very profound importance has been the much greater part 
played in the running of the school by the masters. They have been 
encouraged to express their views on a variety of topics — salaries, pen- 
sions, curriculum, games policy — and an ongoing planning and devel- 
opment committee, with a revolving chairman and membership, has 
examined every aspect of school life. 

About one hundred boys leave the Prep every year, about eighty of 
whom go on to the Upper School. The Prep still performs the function 
Parkin planned for it — as chief feeder for the secondary school. The 
boarding-school has remained full ever since it adopted weekly board- 
ing, but the academic quality of "the boarders lagged so far behind the 
general standard that plans were laid in 1979 to phase out Prep board- 

During seventy-seven years the Prep boy has not changed much, if 
at all. The uniform is more varied and colourful, the language is more 
pungent, the hair is longer (a totally superficial change with no moral 
significance at all). He works hard, for the most part, and he plays 
hard. He is probably more competent and worldly-wise. He is kinder 
and more thoughtful, if less formally polite. He is the hope of the future. 




IT IS HARD TO BELIEVE that the College, for almost half of its life, has 
owned the Norval property on the Credit River near Georgetown. 
This superb facility was not purchased with its present use as an out- 
door educational laboratory in mind; the motive was quite different. 

When Henry Auden became principal of the College in 1903, its 
financial status was relatively satisfactory. By mid 19 10, however, some- 
thing must have alerted the Board of Governors to impending trouble: 
in September the board appointed a sub-committee of three — 
board chairman W. G. Gooderham, his son Norman, and W. D. 
Matthews — to consider the question of a suitable location for the Col- 
lege in case a move was decided upon. This board action was the first 
official recognition of the possibility of a move from the Deer Park cam- 
pus, a matter which took nine years to settle. 

The board's instincts were sound. During the 1910-1 1 school year a 
sharp financial reversal took place which accelerated rapidly through 
191 2. ' At the end of March 191 3 there was a general recognition of fall- 
ing enrolment and continued deficits — in fact, a state of crisis. Frank 
Arnoldi, the College solicitor, reported that the government would 
allow UCC to borrow thirty-thousand dollars and the board chairman 
was to see Auden about redeeming the situation. Would Auden, in fact, 
be prepared to co-operate with the board about a change in principal- 

Out of this emergency arose the idea, probably Auden's, of selling 
off part or all of the Toronto property. The proceeds could then be used 
to purchase a site in the country and to provide a foundation for an 



endowment, something the College had not had for twenty-five years. 
Auden, an ardent naturalist, may well have believed that the country 
was the best location for a school. Here was an opportunity to build a 
country school and solve the financial crisis at the same time. 

Events moved quickly. On April 15 the Mail and Empire reported 
that Upper Canada College had secured the government's permission 
to sell its property. Plans were made for a subdivision — on paper — to 
help decide what to sell and under what conditions. As well, through 
the spring and summer, masses of letters flowed in to the College from 
people all over Southern Ontario who were anxious to sell their 
land — invariably ideal for school use. The Board of Governors, playing 
their cards close to their collective chest, denied any interest in buying. 
Arnoldi, speaking for the sub-committee, said no active steps were being 
taken to sell Deer Park — but offers would be received just the same. 

Auden wrote to Gooderham laying out in great detail his ideas for a 
new school on a new site. The property should be between twelve and 
twenty miles from Toronto; and from 100 to 150 acres. The school 
should be entirely residential (no weekly boarders even), with ten 
classes for two hundred boys; it should have a gym, swimming pool, and 
covered rink, as well as all the essentials. Three boarding-houses for 
forty boys each and a separate Prep of fifty would be under the princi- 
pal and nine men. 

By early July the site committee was recommending the property of 
Dr. R. T. Noble near Norval Village, fifty-five minutes by train from 
Union Station. The committee report was ecstatic, foreseeing botany, 
forestry, gardening, farming, tobogganing, skiing, fishing, boating (Au- 
den even visualized damming the river for rowing), along with pure 
water for the foreseeable future. 2 The original package seems to have 
been 613 acres at a total cost of $89,500; but the final area, seven par- 
cels put together, was just under 528 acres at a cost of $62,750. (Since 
that time 80 acres have been sold.) 

The governors visited Norval on July 18; E. R. Rolph, the architect, 
went a few days later; and in late August the purchase was formally 
approved by the board. Auden expressed the delighted view that the 
site was the best that could be found anywhere for school purposes. In 



his Prize Day Speech on October 13, 191 3, he said that the new College 
would "have everything that nature and art can supply, and under 
such conditions the future of the school will put the past into the dark 
shade." 3 

The Old Boys' Association had already approved the proposed 
move, and on October 16 a grand party was thrown by Gooderham, 
who was president of the Old Boys in addition to being chairman of the 
board. About eighty men attended, travelling to the new site by a spe- 
cial car attached to the Grand Trunk 8:40. Six hours were spent roam- 
ing, listening to speeches, or enjoying an excellent King Edward Hotel 
lunch of fried chicken. The guests saw where the buildings and the 
playing fields were to be, and an epoch-making baseball game was 

Much work still had to be done planning the buildings. Auden was 
invited by the famous American headmaster the Reverend Endicott 
Peabody to visit Groton; as well he sailed to England to visit and study 
the best English public schools. Auden took to England with him some 
draft plans, which were highly praised by an authority on school build- 
ings. In February 19 14 the plans were presented to the Board of Gover- 
nors, and for the next few months work went blissfully on. Auden wrote 
a lyrical description in the summer College Times setting out for the stu- 
dents the commanding view: the school close or garden of 400 feet by 
600 feet; the three houses — Kingsmill, Denison, and Gooderham; the 
tower modelled on Merton College, Oxford; the swimming pools in the 
Credit River; the space available for a rifle range and a nine-hole golf 

To top everything off, on June 8 the entire school went on a special 
ten-car train, chartered by Gooderham, to see Norval for themselves. 
Scattered among the group were some Old Boys, the school matrons, 
and a few wives and smaller children. 4 When the students — about 270 
of them — arrived at the site, most of them plunged into the river and 
spent the day there. Another baseball game preceded another King 
Edward lunch, more speeches followed, the plans and elevations were 
unrolled for all to see, and by five o'clock it was over. The high point of 
the move to Norval had been reached. 



In late July the bubble began to burst. The total cost of the enter- 
prise had risen to over $600,000, almost twice Auden's February esti- 
mate. Even more significantly, the sale of the Toronto property was 
becoming clouded amid the rumblings of the guns of August. 

The previous September the H. H. Suydam Realty Company had 
offered $1,125,000 for the College property in Deer Park, which had 
been divided into three parcels: Parcel One valued at $275,000; Parcel 
Two at $273,234; and Parcel Three at $576,766. The idea was for the 
College to occupy the old site for two to three years while the new 
buildings were erected, and then for the entire Deer Park acreage to 
become a residential subdivision. 5 Suydam, however, soon found he 
could not pay for all three parcels. He suggested that he take only the 
twelve acres bounded by Lonsdale, Forest Hill, Kilbarry, and Dunve- 
gan, and postpone the purchase of parcels two and three. 

Though Auden's dream was essentially dead, it would not lie down. 
The board continued to ruminate about the move, and correspondence 
with Suydam continued. In the winter of 19 15 the date of delivering the 
remaining property to him was pushed from 19 16 to 1918. Suydam 
could not even pay for parcel one, and his desperate proposals were 
turned down by the board. By November 19 16 the situation was this: 
the College had Norval, to which it could not move and for which it 
had spent something over $93,000; they had sold the first parcel of the 
Toronto property and received about $199,000, but Suydam still owed 
them $76,000; parcels two and three were in limbo. 

The following summer Principal Auden left, to be replaced by 
W. L. Grant. The indecision about what to do with Norval was 
nowhere more evident than in Grant's correspondence with his father- 
in-law, George Parkin. Impressed by the property himself, Parkin 
thought Grant should spend two or three years in Toronto creating con- 
fidence in the College community while overseeing the construction of 
the new school on the country site. That was in July; by November Par- 
kin was vacillating. First, the Prep should not be shifted; it was the Col- 
lege's Toronto feeder, which the College could not afford to lose. 
Second, the families with strong church connections might withdraw 
their sons and send them to one of the other boarding-schools. Third, 



there would be no social life in an isolated community for the masters; 
the "glory and glitter" 6 of the city connection would be lacking. 

By the end of 191 7 the board were of the opinion that it would be 
some time before a move to Norval was possible, and they aimed to do 
their best in Toronto with the prospect of making "a big advance" 7 
when it was decided to move. By the spring of 1918 the situation was 
tricky. Suydam still had not paid, but with the end of the war in sight, 
the board feared that Suydam might pay and the College would have 
to move with no buildings at Norval to move into. Moreover, following 
Parkin's lead, thinking about the Prep had changed. The board 
thought it would be necessary to retain the Prep in Toronto for junior 
day boys. With this in view, the board wanted to be sure to hang on to 
parcels two and three — at any rate until the clouds cleared. If there was 
to be a moving date, the College wanted the decision to be in its hands, 
not Suydam's. 

The war ended and the board tended more and more to think of 
keeping the second and third land parcels and accepting money for 
parcel one alone. Grant felt that if this happened, the development of 
the endowment on which he was determined in order to improve mas- 
ters' salaries, and which had been a condition of his appointment, 
would be curtailed seriously. The architects, Sproatt and Rolph, were 
anxious to continue the Norval project and said the new buildings could 
be completed by September of 192 1 if work could commence that sum- 
mer of 1 919. The board, evidently swayed by Grant, were still holding 
open the option of moving, and curiously enough they were reconsider- 
ing the whole question of the Prep joining the main school in the move. 
All the vacillation was in vain, however. In May, Suydam definitely 
wanted out of his contract; his American partner had found better 
opportunities in which to invest. A month later he had still paid only 
$212,000, and the board asked him for $350,000 to buy his way out. 
Suydam refused. The great Norval project was again abandoned "for 
the time being." 8 

On October 14, 19 19, Grant wrote a memorandum containing 
many ideas about the College's future. On Norval he was clear: 
although originally delighted with the beauty of the property, he had 



grown more and more doubtful over a two-year period. The one and 
only justification for the move was the endowment, but the new site 
development would swallow the entire price of the Toronto campus. 
Also the mood was changing. Few Old Boys were still enthusiastic. The 
winter was cold and windy at Norval; the summer, hot and plagued by 
mosquitoes. There was only one railway line, the radial was some dis- 
tance away, and automobile traffic was closed for four months of the 
year. Grant was, at the same time, disappointed and relieved. He reso- 
lutely turned his back on Norval, determined to build a great school in 

In sum, the College had exchanged 12 acres in Toronto for 528 
acres in Norval plus about Si 80,000 — a trade designed to keep those 
involved arguing for decades. 

Seven years passed, and as the College approached its centenary, 
Principal Grant was looking elsewhere for a new College site. In April 
1928 a firm decision was made to sell Norval. In September a syndicate 
from Cleveland was said to be considering purchasing the property for 
$100,000. Nothing happened. In June 1929, anxious for cash to com- 
plete its anticipated new site in York Mills, the board empowered 
Frank Arnoldi to sell Norval for $90,000 — all cash or its equivalent in 
securities satisfactory to the board chairman. Again nothing happened, 
though one suggestion was that Norval be sold to the government as a 
rifle range. Six more years went by, and the board passed a motion to 
move more vigorously to sell Norval. It was now on the market for 

Grant died in February 1935 and was succeeded by T. W. L. Mac- 
Dermot. His counterpart at the Prep was A. G. A. Stephen, and it was a 
memorandum by Stephen in 1937 which resurrected Norval from a 
limbo of twenty years and shaped the course it took for the next forty. 9 
The boarder enrolment at the Prep had been dropping, and Stephen's 
idea was to find a spot within easy reach of Toronto for boarders' week- 
ends. It should have skiing slopes, a stream for bathing, and some bush 
for Scout work. With this facility, the Prep could boast that it had the 
benefits of both a city and a country education. As a result, new board- 
ers would undoubtedly be attracted. The concept was slow to develop, 



but MacDermot and Stephen found a friendly ear in J. Graeme Wat- 
son, a member of the board's executive committee. Watson visited Nor- 
val in June of 1938 and his interest was aroused. He was appointed a 
one-man committee to look into the matter, and in December he pro- 
duced a far-sighted "Memorandum re ucc Norval Property." 

Watson saw Norval as an unproductive investment which had cost a 
large sum of money and on which UCC did not want to spend any more. 
It is not clear who first raised the question of "reforestation," but out of 
subsequent visits to the property with government forestry personnel, 
four intertwined objectives developed: education, publicity, increased 
market value, and recreation. Watson thought that College students, 
starting with Prep boys as an experiment, might well be able to do some 
planting, chiefly of conifers. It would be an educational experience, the 
property would increase in value, and the College would get valuable 
publicity. Other educational uses such as nature study were possibili- 
ties. An added asset would be a sounder position in case of tax assess- 
ment, because the property would be used for educational purposes. 
Recreationally, Watson was optimistic about the skiing possiblities. In a 
couple of paragraphs, he became visionary. "The ultimate possibilities 
of the development of Norval are great ... let the imagination have a 
little rein to visualize all sorts of activities which would bring the boys 
close to nature and thus supply something which is seriously lacking in 
the training and experience of so many modern city-bred boys. . . . 
Given a few years' development of the property ... it might become 
apparent that ... it was an asset worth more than its sale value." 10 

The first steps to put the Watson plan into operation were taken on 
May 6, 1939. Forty-five UCC Scouts and Cubs planted twelve thousand 
pine seedlings under the direction of Arthur M. Richardson, who was in 
charge of reforestation for the province. Six special trees were planted 
by six special people: Mrs. Graeme Watson, Mrs. Richardson, Col. 
A. L. Noble of Norval, board chairman R. A. Laidlaw, Principal Mac- 
Dermot, and the youngest boy present, David Todd. Since then over 
650,000 trees have been planted, the bulk by students. Massive plant- 
ings are now completed; only maintenance work remains. 

Visitors to the Norval property seldom fail to comment on its natu- 



ral interest and beauty: the Credit River meandering through its broad 
valley on the way to Lake Ontario; the ancient, elevated benchlands 
that mark the verges of an older and mighty waterway; the upland 
stands of hardwoods, some of which were already old at the time of pur- 
chase; the lush, open meadows which contrast with acres of thick 
conifer plantations. Nature — with a little help from her College 
friends — has provided a varied and fascinating landscape for the enjoy- 
ment and learning of all those who experience the Norval Outdoor 

Norval and the College have also provided a valuable wildlife 
reserve on the edge of a megalopolis. A Georgetown paper-clipping of 
1979 reported: "Motorists were surprised Wednesday morning Febru- 
ary 7 when a herd of deer ran up and down the highway and finally 
crossed it from Upper Canada College land. Traffic was tied up while 
everyone watched in amazement." The deer have since returned to 
enjoy the refuge which the management program (including the main- 
tenance of more than two miles of fencing) is designed to perpetuate. 
The property is, in fact, rich in a variety of wildlife: foxes, rabbits, deer, 
birds, and even the occasional brush wolf. If the continuing problem of 
hunters (who use both firearms and bows and arrows) can be solved, the 
deer will long be Norval residents. 

Another facet of Norval encouraged by the Watson memo was rec- 
reation. The board approved a plan to build a "ski shack" on the brow 
of the hill overlooking the Credit. An anonymous donation of one thou- 
sand dollars was forthcoming, and on June 9, 1939, Norval House, an 
attractive, rustic, solidly built bunk-house capable of sleeping twenty- 
two was opened by Mrs. Graeme Watson. Among those who planned 
and constructed the house were Sam Foote, a long-time Prep teacher, 
and Charlie Coupland, a neighbouring farmer who was soon appointed 
the College's Norval agent. The immediate aim was more Prep board- 
ers, and in the momentary enthusiasm, the Globe and Mail of June 1 o 
reported that Norval House was the "first in a series" that would even- 
tually provide accommodation for all Prep boarders. Use began imme- 
diately and before the end of term all the boarders had been at least 
once. The next winter, the first of the war, boarders went out for ski 



weekends. Soon Prep boarders used the House every weekend, weather 
permitting. When on the property, boys did the chores — helping with 
meals, cutting wood, sweeping, pumping water, and so on. But it was 
not all work; there were collecting, nature games, contests of different 
kinds, building bridges and rafts, making dug-outs and forts, or just 
plain "messing around." In 1950 Upper School boarders began to use 
the property. They stayed in the original farmhouse, named Upper 
Canada House, which they converted to their own use under the lead- 
ership of Donald Maskell, their physical-education instructor. Boarder 
weekends and reforestation by senior Prep boys carried on until the mid 
sixties, when new directions were taken. 

From time to time through the fifties and sixties various members of 
the College community, including members of the board, uncertain 
about the educational value of Norval and knowing that its monetary 
value was rising, wondered aloud what Norval might bring if subdi- 
vided commercially or residentially. When the College's main building 
was condemned in 1958, the temptation to sell Norval was enormous; it 
was assessed at $310,000 and the board thought that $450,000 should be 
asked. Fortunately, the money was raised in other ways. 

Of all the College community, the man most responsible for keeping 
Norval on its agenda for thirty years was Alan Stephen. During his last 
years as Prep headmaster, the subject of Norval was almost an obsession 
with him. In late 1962 he received permission to start an arboretum 
named after S. Alan Harris, a long-time Prep faculty member who had 
worked actively in the reforestation program for many years. A year 
later Stephen announced that $4,100 was being donated by the Sports- 
men's Show for a small science laboratory to be added to Norval House. 
All through those years, he kept hammering away at the same 
theme — preserve Norval in perpetuity for College use. Stephen feared 
that, after he retired, the College might abandon Norval. 

Two events gave the Norval development a fresh impetus even as 
Stephen was stepping down. The first was the erection of Stephen 
House, an idea first officially mentioned in November 1964. It was a 
beautiful bunk-house-cum-dining-area-cum-science-lab, financed by 
the Laidlaw Foundation and designed by Old Boy architect Blake Mil- 



lar. For it Millar was awarded a Massey Medal. The College now had 
two bunk-houses and two science labs to encourage and accommodate 
increased demand. The second event was the appointment to the Prep 
faculty of Norval director B. M. Litteljohn, a Canadian authority on 
wilderness, with a background in Canadian history, park management, 
and photography. Litteljohn's job was to supply the demand. In early 
1967 he and two colleagues, Glyn Owen and Donald Baldwin, pro- 
duced a Norval Brief, pointing the direction the College should take for 
the foreseeable future. The aims were specified: 

At the Norval Outdoor School, property management should go hand 
in hand with a greatly expanded education program for both Upper 
Canada College students and others. Management should be largely 
directed toward the restoration of forest cover and the related protec- 
tion of wildlife and the Credit River watershed. The learning program 
should emphasize environmental concerns, including applied conserv- 
ation, and recreation which is in harmony with the integrity of the 
natural environment. The over-riding educational goal should be to 
foster knowledge and appreciation of nature and a sharpened environ- 
mental conscience which assigns man a constructive role in the natu- 
ral environment, of which he is a part. As swift urban growth proceeds 
in southern Ontario, the role of the Norval Outdoor School — 
both as a semi-wild area and a conservation-oriented educational 
institution — will increase in value to Upper Canada College and the 
larger community." 

The first pay-off from Litteljohn's brief came in the spring of 1969 
when the Prep grade eights each spent a week on the property with a 
special curriculum drawn up by the science department. It was a 
smashing success. Now the entire Prep spends time on the property with 
all the faculty taking part, including the musical groups. The environ- 
ment has become a part of the Prep curriculum. The board has estab- 
lished a special Norval committee, and the property has a separate 
Norval Outdoor School budget administered by a director. 

In the early seventies a married couple came onto the Norval prop- 
erty, the husband as property manager, the wife as assistant cook to 



Mrs. Evelyn Martin, whose family had moved into and renovated 
Upper Canada House. The married couple had a new house of their 
own constructed during "The Program for UCC" in 1971-72. About the 
same time, the property was opened up for other schools, notably St. 
George's College and UTS, both of which now make wide use of the 
facility. During this period, too, a sturdy steel bridge, appropriately 
named after Litteljohn, was swung across the Credit, linking the two 
halves of the property on a permanent basis. 

Non-College users frame their own programs, constrained only by 
UCC guidelines concerning proper use of the natural environment and 
physical plant. Boys from the College enjoy a variety of learning experi- 
ences. Not all of these concentrate solely on environmental concerns. 
For example, the Prep chorus and band, or the Upper School little the- 
atre or jazz workshop group find at Norval a good place to pursue unin- 
terrupted and intensive work free from distractions. More frequently, 
however, groups go to Norval to actively engage in outdoor and envi- 
ronmental studies. The Prep boys, by far the heaviest users of the 
facility, are exposed to many activities, including: field biology; photog- 
raphy, sketching, and other art activities designed to enhance the 
aesthetic apprecation of nature; orienteering and map interpretation; 
lessons in the art and science of living and travelling through natural 
areas; bird-banding and identification; camping out, including winter 
camping; botany and applied forest management. Aside from the value 
of these activities, the relative isolation of Norval provides an ideal situ- 
ation for building good rapport and a spirit of co-operation within the 
various groups. 

With constant Prep use, rapidly increasing Upper School use, and a 
large group of visiting schools, the Norval facility is now run on virtu- 
ally a full-time basis. It has travelled a long, rocky, and different route 
from that foreseen by Gooderham and Auden in 19 13. It is four times 
the size and at least twice the distance from Toronto that Auden want- 
ed. These are both fortunate facts. Had it been closer to the city or 
smaller, it might well have been sold by now. As it is, UCC remains sol- 
idly based for a large day-boy market and has a facility unique among 



Canadian schools (perhaps among schools anywhere on the continent) 
for environmental education. 

By an irony of history, this happy turn of events came about because 
of the tragedy of the First World War. Although other doubts about the 
move developed later, without the war the College might have moved 
to Norval — with what in the future? We can be sure that Auden's ghost 
smiles down on the crowded annual picnics, the boat races on the 
flashing river, and the hundreds upon hundreds of students who take 
strength and sustenance from their experiences on the property. The 
original baseball game is played many times over every spring on the 
original spot, Gooderham and his son there on the sidelines, laughing 
and applauding. 




UPPER CANADA COLLEGE'S HISTORY is roughly divided into two 
halves, each defined by a different century. The first half is un- 
likely to be repeated, but that is no reason for ignoring it. The 
College that Colborne founded has its roots deep in the nineteenth cen- 
tury; some of the gilt that clings to it still, was applied at its inception. 
How has it lasted so long? 

UCC was founded to train boys for leadership roles in the infant colo- 
ny. The word elite, rooted in the Latin word for elect, is defined as "the 
choice or most carefully selected part of a group, as of a society or pro- 
fession." There is no doubt that Colborne intended the students to 
become the colony's leaders; in that sense, UCC was an elite school. 
Because of the heated King's College debate on Anglicanism, it was 
deliberately non-denominational. Because of its enormous endowment, 
it was dirt cheap. UCC was not simply for the rich. Because of the pre- 
sumed difficulty of finding good teachers in Upper Canada, men with 
remarkable academic qualifications were imported from Great Britain 
at great expense to instruct in the classical type of curriculum which 
had helped to produce that country's leaders. Because it was to be a 
superior school, Colborne demanded high-priced buildings in spacious 
grounds. So far, so good. The colony needed leaders trained under the 
most felicitous circumstances at a reasonable expense in a cool and 
uncontroversial religious ambience. 

Almost from the beginning, though, things began to go wrong. 
There were the expenses: the buildings were extravagant; there were 
too many masters being paid too much. The endowment produced little 



or nothing for a very long time, saddling the school with an enormous 
debt. The school's administration was brutally incompetent. The site 
was in Toronto, home of John Strachan and the Family Compact, cen- 
tre of the Anglican ("established") church, headquarters of the self-con- 
stituted aristocracy, more British than Britain. In UCC the union of 
power, money, and the Church of England was more accidental than 
deliberate, but it was real, and any school in UCC's situation was 
unlikely to generate the enthusiastic support of the Ontario hinterland. 
Again, there was the religious aspect of the school itself. The masters 
turned out to be good teachers, but why were so many of them Anglican 
clergymen? It was not that they pushed their own beliefs on the student 
body (there is no evidence that they did), but they held all the responsi- 
ble positions: it was hard to believe that ucc was not an Anglican semi- 
nary. Finally, despite the fees being competitive with other grammar 
schools, it was not socially representative; most of the parents were well- 
to-do Toronto Tories. There were others, of course, attracted by the low 
fees and high standards, but it was the total picture that counted: 
Upper Canada College was seen not just as a school to train an elite, 
but almost immediately it was seen as a school for the children of the 
elite — quite a different thing. The only criterion of elitism which is not 
acceptable is one based on class or money, rather than ability. Fairly or 
not, the College became branded with this unacceptable elitism early in 
its career, and the brand still lingers on its skin. The College commu- 
nity has been seen as carrying the kind of elitism that puts on airs. 

For the first thirty years the same basic picture emerged: inept 
administration, fine teaching, financial difficulties. The Anglican clergy 
gradually disappeared, but the religious and social make-up of the 
enrolment remained much the same. The College survived through 
thirty years of tumult because enough people saw that it supplied a 
sound education. Moreover, there was no real competition: it was the 
top educational institution in the province. As Colborne had hoped, the 
graduates undertook leadership roles in the government, in the univer- 
sity, and in the legal profession. 

When the endowment began to pay off in the 1860s and 1870s, all 
the jealousies created by the school's history ballooned into greed: the 



endowment had been "stolen"; the endowment must be returned. For 
over fifty years there were perpetual onslaughts on the College's exist- 
ence by individuals and groups, both in the press and in the legislature. 
Then under Parkin the school's life was saved; it had become poor but 
honest. In its poverty and isolation and exhaustion the College turned 
in on itself and back to its roots, embracing its Britishness more fer- 
vently than it had ever done. Spiritually it became a Canadian copy of 
the English public schools. Allegiance to empire became as strong as 
love of country. The school's attitude to games — an end in themselves 
rather than the means to an end — reflected its own self-image. 

The twentieth century opened the second half of the College's histo- 
ry, bringing independence and some shifts of emphasis. Slowly the clas- 
sical tradition died; the importance of English, history, and science 
grew. Little by little, ucc began to realize it was Canadian in fact, not 
just in name. But in the transformation to a private school, the College 
lost — or at least misplaced — something. As a public institution with 
some acceptance of noblesse oblige it had taken for granted that many of 
its students would seek public leadership. Privilege demanded personal 
sacrifice. In its independent phase, and perhaps as a result of its self-ab- 
sorption, the College's commitment to public leadership was suspended. 
(To be fair, scepticism about public leadership has not been a UCC 
monopoly. The possibility exists that leaders are no longer wanted, that 
the bankruptcy is not so much a lack of supply as one of demand.) The 
public strategists of the nineteenth century have become the highly 
competent private tacticians of the twentieth. Nevertheless the days 
when those superficial signs of quality — Latin grammar and a flashing 
drive through cover-point — were the passports to success have disap- 
peared. Much more is needed in terms of creativity or compassion or 

During a hundred and fifty years UCC has been under the control of 
seven different boards, councils, or committees. Some of them had no 
conception whatever of their functions, some had very clear ideas, and 
some fell in between. Clear-thinking and a high level of ability has been 
more and more apparent as the years have passed, and what was once a 



vague paternalism has been transmitted into a delicate balance of work, 
wealth, and wisdom. 

Judging by the history, being principal of Upper Canada College 
has been one of the most difficult administrative positions in Canadian 
education. The characteristics needed to undertake the arduous post 
are extraordinarily difficult to find in one man. The prime require- 
ments would appear to be the stamina and hide of a rhinoceros. For the 
rest — monumental patience, a sense of humour, ability in at least one 
academic discipline, an understanding of young people, adaptability, a 
willingness to experiment and make mistakes, a comprehension of what 
Old Boys are all about, the courage of convictions, a resilience to cope 
with captious colleagues, sympathy with parental concerns — the list is 

All through the political turmoil, riding the financial roller-coaster, 
through decades of low pay and lack of retirement allowance, through 
the erratic leadership at board or administrative levels, the quality of 
teaching has seldom been other than thoroughly competent, and more 
often than not first class. The classical training thought to be so central 
to decisive thinking for almost a century was sustained by a marvelous 
succession of department heads — Mathews, Scadding, Wedd, Jackson, 
Orr. As a matter of fact, the classical department has had only eight 
heads in 150 years. No less impressive have been the heads of the math- 
ematics department: Dade, Brown, Sparling, Somerville, McHugh, 
McKenzie, Sharp, the last four without peer anywhere. English was 
late on the scene as an important discipline, but when it arrived the 
troops were led by men like Dickson and Peacock, Mowbray and 
Crake, Blunt and Gallimore. In foreign languages there were Stephen 
Leacock and the revered Classey. All these men were simply the lead- 
ers. Crowding them and sometimes overtaking them were Boulton and 
Martland and A. A. Macdonald, Grant and Stephen, Killip and Igna- 
tieff, Mills and Law and de Marbois, Cochrane and Carpenter and 
Holmes, MacMillan and Mazzoleni. At the Prep their counterparts 
numbered Colley and Hollingshead, Foote and Elliott, Gibson and Gait 
and Harris — the line stretches to the horizon. 

These were complicated men— most of them — sometimes hated and 



feared for imposing long, hard, boring tasks which seemed useless to the 
students; sometimes respected and admired as leaders; sometimes 
enjoyed as companions; sometimes loved as friends in need. They 
taught, not because they could not do anything else — most of them 
could — but because they did not want to do anything else; their need to 
teach gripped them like a vice. They considered themselves "fortunate 
to be allowed to spend their lives teaching" the subjects they loved to 
the students they loved (though sometimes the students could not guess 
it). There was something in their approach to teaching that let the boys 
know "they never thought any other job could compare with this one." 
Their ambition consisted of sharing their own joys and insights with 
others. Along with these enthusiasms lay the belief that the pupils were 
more important than themselves. The boys knew; they were always 
able to recognize the difference between the performers and the men 
who really cared — the born teachers. "In every generation there were 
masters who lived by honesty, self-sacrifice," and courage, who had spe- 
cial and unconquerable "resources within themselves." These inner 
resources were the clue to their lives and provided the clue to their stu- 
dents' lives. They were the people who held out to year after year of 
confused youth the "hope that life was not just a bad joke or a meaning- 
less biological episode." They were the glory of Upper Canada College. 
The questions for the eighties and beyond concern society's need for 
independent schools, and if there is such a need, what their basic char- 
acteristics should be. To those who see education or schooling as a low 
priority, schools like Upper Canada College carry no message. To those 
who think schools are important but who are content with a provincial 
government monopoly, Upper Canada College carries no message. But 
to those who believe in a variety of schools and who believe that parents 
have the right to a choice for their children, colleges like Upper Canada 
are crucial. Generous support must arise from belief in the idea of inde- 
pendent education, not from the belief that the donor will get some- 
thing tangible in return. Whether or not one has children, whether or 
not they are of school age, whether or not they are boys, whether or not 
they have university potential, the issue remains the same — state 
monopoly or freedom of choice. 



If Upper Canada College has a place in the field of independent 
education it has two imperatives. The first is to increase the endowment 
to the point where the fees can flatten out and those four horsemen — 
salaries, pensions, scholarships, and bursaries — become substantial 
enough so that men and women will happily make a career at the 
school and the student body will not become solely the sons of the 
wealthy. Since the loss of the original endowment in 1887 scores of first- 
class teachers have taught at the College for low pay and with little to 
look forward to at the end of the road. One task is to ensure that those 
days have gone forever. As for the student body, the fees speak for them- 
selves. Although a good many boys receive financial assistance in order 
to attend the school, it can never be known how many did not apply for 
financial reasons. Upper Canada College should be a school that can 
welcome almost any boy, regardless of financial background, provided 
he has the qualifications. Any weakening in the position of the College 
which is the oldest, the largest, the best known, and one of the most 
strategically placed of independent schools weakens the position of all. 
The scholarship and bursary program and the salaries and pensions 
that have been built up with such difficulty over the years need massive 
strengthening to endure the onslaught of inflation. From now on an 
independent school without a substantial endowment is a contradiction 
in terms. Such an endowment can come from only those who believe. 

The second imperative is to continue to look forward, to anticipate 
the educational needs of tomorrow and not cling to encrustations of the 
past. This means a careful analysis of traditions and a separation of the 
useful and the timeless from those which no longer make sense. The cat- 
alogue of traditions, some immortal, some more transitory, is impres- 
sive: from the very beginning good teaching, especially in classics and 
mathematics, by masters who cared; cricket of a high calibre for over 
140 years; games and clubs and hobbies superintended by enthusiastic 
masters; The College Times; a debating society over a century old; an 
endless line of distinguished speakers sharing with the students their 
experiences and wisdom on every topic under the sun; tolerance 
towards all creeds and colours. What new traditions could spring from 



this fertile soil? A renewal of sportsmanship of the kind Newbolt wrote 
about, perhaps: winning or losing "not for fame or glory" but with 
grace, because the spirit of the game is what matters. In a world where 
"man's greed and cruelty are too widespread and persistent to be 
ignored," perhaps the old traditions of "fair play, duty and honour, 
bravery and fortitude" could be resurrected or strengthened. Perhaps a 
school is the only place left where belief can be nourished that "man 
may still be worth bothering about and that human existence may still 
be given dignity." Perhaps a tradition may grow that science is a disci- 
pline not just of mindless destruction but of creation too, a discipline 
through which the environment will be enhanced. Perhaps music will 
take the place of honour in the school curriculum which it has in the 
real world. There are infinite possibilities for the growth of new tradi- 

It has been a long, grinding uphill climb; from time to time the Col- 
lege has clung by its fingernails to the face of the cliff, catching its 
breath, looking for the next foothold, afraid to peer into the abyss 
below. From today's perspective, ucc stands on a summit, looking like 
Janus both forward and back. The school is wise to remind itself of the 
axiom that an institution ignorant of its own history is destined to 
repeat it. Is ucc likely to repeat its twentieth-century chapter? The 
answer depends on the faith and care and love of its friends. A good 
education can be got cheaply to be sure, but only at the expense of those 
men and women responsible for the program. The College has for a 
long time operated in an environment of physical beauty — of fields, 
trees, and buildings — and a belief in wisely used space. If it is allowed to 
operate in an atmosphere of financial space, a world in which it can 
breathe easily, a third and still brighter chapter will be added to the 
first two. When the year 2029 arrives, Colborne's legacy will then be 
honoured by all, friend and foe alike, for what it has contributed and 
continues to contribute to the Canadian educational scene. 

The author foresees a bright future for Upper Canada College. He 
believes that it will not only survive, it will prevail because it has a core 



of compassion and endurance. This volume is about the courage, the 
honour, and the pride which have illuminated its past. It is not merely 
the record of Upper Canada College. It is intended as a pillar of hope 
for its future. 




The College Motto and Crest 

IN 1 790 an English clergyman named John Jortin wrote a Latin poem 
called "Ad Ventos — ante AD. mdcxxvii" (To the Winds — Before 
1727). The poem evidently referred to a British fleet dispatched to 
keep an eye on Britain's enemies who favoured the Old Pretender, the 
heir of James II. The last line, "Palmam qui meruit, ferat" (Whoever 
hath deserved it let him bear off the palm), probably means "May the 
best man (Stuart or Hanoverian) win." Later, the motto was attached 
to the arms of Lord Nelson. 

When first used at Upper Canada College about 1833, it was not a 
general motto, but simply an inscription stamped upon prize books. 
Two palm branches encircled the name of the College and were fas- 
tened together by a ribbon bearing the Latin words. John Ross Robert- 
son in Landmarks of Toronto said that this form was used until i860, when 
Dr. Henry Scadding decided that a crown should be put into the 
design. Scadding argued that not only had a lieutenant-governor 
founded the school, it was also a Royal Grammar School. Robertson 
was wrong about the date. As early as 1855, perhaps 1850, the College 
was using the device of a crown, that of George IV, inside the palm 
branches. For the next eighty years it used a variety of crests. Each new 
version may have signified some change in College philosophy; more 
likely the administration simply tired of the old design. 

To confuse the picture, Scadding was asked in 1889 to devise a final 
edition of the College crest. He probably did so and may well have pro- 
duced the complex insignia which was displayed for so many years over 



the west door of the prayer hall in the 1891 building and is now placed 
over the door to Laidlaw Hall. 

In 1956 L. C. Kerslake wrote an explanation of this crest: 

The small wreath, crossed anchor and sword in the centre of the crest 
are found in Lord Nelson's coat of arms. 

The open book in the upper left corner is symbolic of education 
which is the primary function of any school. The quadrant-shaped 
figure in the upper right corner is a section of the standard of St. 
George and signifies the school's connection with England and Great 
Britain, the native land of the founder, Lord Seaton. 

Technically speaking, the crown should not be included in the 
crest, as the school was not instituted by royal charter. However, loy- 
alty to the Crown is one of the fundamental traditions of UCC and is 
certain to endure as long as the school itself. 

The cornua copiae just above the motto stands for the fullness of 
school life which is one of the distinctive marks of UCC. 

In fact, this insignia is simply the Seal of Upper Canada, authorized 
in 1820, to which are appended the College's motto and palm branches. 

During the last fifty years the College crest has remained un- 
changed. Some of the earlier devices are depicted here. 

C.J. S. Bethune 

Examination Certificate 


The College Times Masthead 
March 1882 



C^ AM c 0/ 

The College Times Masthead 
December ii 


yf ..*.. ii. 



FOUNDED 1829. 

U.C.C. Prospectus 
c. 1900-1910 

In General Use 

In General Use Since 1931 

Dr. Scadding's 1889 Device (?) 





Board for the General Superintendence of Education 

Venerable John Strachan 

1 833-1 849 
Council of King's College 

Venerable John Strachan 

Upper Canada College Council 


Senate of the University of Toronto 

1 887- 1 900 
Board of Trustees 

1 888- 1 894 John Beverley Robinson 
1 894- 1 899 J.J. Kingsmill 
1 899- 1 900 G. T. Denison, in 



Board of Governors 
1900-1911 G. T. Denison, ill 
191 1- 1 934 W. G. Gooderham 
1 935- 1 940 R. A. Laidlaw 
1941-1952 J. Graeme Watson 
1952-1957 Maj.-Gen. A. Bruce Matthews 
1957-1962 J. M. Macintosh 
1 962- 1 967 H. H. Wilson 
1967-1972 D. M. Woods 
1972-1977 D. S. Beatty 
1977- A. J. Ormsby 




1829-38 The Rev. Joseph H. Harris, MA, DD 

1 839-43 The Rev. John McCaul, LL D 

1 843-56 Frederick W. Barron, MA 

1857-61 The Rev. Walter Stennett, MA 

1 86 1 -8 1 George R. R. Cockburn, MA 

1881-85 John Milne Buchan, MA 

1885-95 George Dickson, MA 

1 895-1902 George R. Parkin, MA, LLD 

1902-17 Henry W. Auden, MA 

^^-SS William L. Grant, MA, LLD 

l 9?>b~^ 2 Terence W. L. MacDermot, MA 

1 943 _ 48 Lome M. McKenzie, ba 

1 949-65 The Rev. C. W. Sowby, ma, DD 

1 965-74 Patrick T. Johnson, MA 

: 975 _ Richard H. Sadleir, ma 


The Prep 

(Above) Alice Parkin, daughter of George Parkin, the first Prep matron. 
She married Vincent Massey in 191 5 (Upper Canada College). (Below) 
The Prep building 1902, as designed by E. R. Peacock and Eden Smith. 
It was named the Peacock Building in 1962 (from Upper Canada College 























Three of the earliest Prep first teams 
(Upper Canada College). 

The Prep masters, June 1934, just as Duke Somerville was retiring. Somerville and 
five of these men spent a total of over two hundred years at the Prep, creating its repu- 
tation. They are (left to right) J. H. Blow, Reginald Terrett, H. E. Elliott, G. W. 
Spragge, J. L. Somerville, J. Goodger, Timothy Gibson, F. N. Hollingshead, C. W. 
Jones, R. M. Baldwin, Samuel Foote, S. A. Harris. The dogs name is Rex (Upper 
Canada College). (Below) Present Prep headmaster, R. B. Howard, with boys. 

Life at the Prep 

Boarders' evening inspec- 
tion by Agnes McQuis- 
tan, known as "Nurse." 
Ears, fingernails, 
toes — nothing escaped 
her eagle eye every night 
from 1932 to 1964 (Page 

The Masque of Aesop, written especially for the Prep on its fiftieth birthday in 1952 by 
Robertson Davies. The three fates measuring out the life-span of Kenneth Langdon 
(Aesop) with such relish are Fred Eaton, L. C. Ash, and Lloyd Rain. Gordon Tisdall's 
god-like Apollo looks on (Ballard and Jarrett). 


Principal Henry Auden, Dr. R. T. 

Noble, and board chairman 

W. G. Gooderham, the three 

protagonists in the purchase of the 

Norval property (Upper Canada 


The celebrated first Norval 
I baseball game (Upper 
Canada College). 

Departing for home after a his- 
toric day (Upper Canada College). 




(Above) The key 
Norval planners: 
S. Alan Harris, 
after whom the 
arboretum is 
named; Arthur 
Richardson of 
the Department 
of Lands and 
Forests; and 
A.G. A. Stephen, 
Prep headmaster 
1934-66 (Globe 
and Mail). (Left) 
The Norval 
property, slightly 
diminished from 
its original 
boundaries by 
the sale of eighty 


(Above) Norval House as seen in 1939 when the Prep boys first used the property (Up- 
per Canada College). (Below) Stephen House, completed in 1965. The architect, Old 
Boy Blake Millar, won a Massey Medal for the design (Bruce Litteljohn). 



1902-1 1 J. S. H. Guest, ma 

191 1-34 J. L. Somerville, BA 

1 934-66 A. G. A. Stephen, MA 

1966- R. B. Howard, BA 



Quarter-Century Club 


J. du P. De la Haye 


A. G. A. Stephen 


C.J. Thompson 


M. H. C. Bremner 


M. Barrett 


J. H. Biggar 


W. Wedd 


Mrs. A. McQuistan 


J. Brown 


G. Y. Ormsby 


J. Martland 


K. D. Scott 


G. B. Sparling 


H. Kay- 


W. S. Jackson 


Miss C. Cruikshank 


R. Holmes 


T. Aikman 

I 894-192 I 

A. L. Cochrane 


Miss B. Barrow 


J. L. Somerville 


Dr. W. A. McTavish 


C. F. Mills 


Dr. W. G. Bassett 


W. Mowbray 


I. K. Shearer 


Dr. A.J. Mackenzie 

1 940-68 

C. W. Coupland 


M. W. McHugh 


K. E. G. Chambers 

1906-10, 1939-60 J. N. B. Colley 

1 941-71 

W. H. Ruffell 


Miss M.Joy 


R. B. Howard 


F. N. Hollingshead 


H. Atack 

1 9 1 4—6 1 

F.J. Mallett 


J. D. MacDonald 


H. E. Elliott 


Miss S. Owen 


H. E. Orr 


F. C. Brennan 


O. Classey 


J. L. Coulton 


S. Foote 


C. W. Gallimore 


T. Gibson 


J. W. Linn 


S. A. Harris 


Dr. V. T. Mould 




H. A. D. Roberts 


J. A. Gilham 


M. K. Greatrex 


W. H. Pollard 


E.J. Weeks 


J. N. Symons 


Miss B. Y. Eckhardt 


F. Phair 



Head Boys 


Scadding, Henry 

1858 Loudon, J. 


Ruttan, W. 

1859 JessupJ. G. 


Fitzgerald, W.J. 

1 860 Tyner, A. C. 


Ewart, I. 

1 86 1 Paterson, J. A. 


Hurd, E. 

1862 Bell, C. W. 


Ewart, J. 

1863 Connon, C. H. 



1864 Cassels, Alan 


Boulton, H.J. 

1865 Ryrie, D. 

1 84 1 

Crookshank, G. 

1 866 Armstrong, W. 


Bethune, N. 

1867 Dale, W. 


Wedd, William 

1868 Fletcher, J. 


Cousens, C. S. 

1869 Wallace, F. H. 


Hudspeth, T. 

1870 Bruce, J., aeq. 


Crooks, A. 

1870 Cameron, J. C, a 


Palmer, G. 

1 87 1 Elliott, J. W. 


Grier, J. G. 

1872 Biggar, W. H. 


HuggardJ. T. 

1873 Bowes, E. A. 


Blake, D. E. 

1874 Northrup, W. P. 


Rykert, A. E. 

1875 Davis, A. G. 


Walker, N. 

1876 Sutherland, A. 


O'Brien, D. 

1877 Ponton, A. D. 


Moss, T. 

1878 Davis, E. P. 


Jones, W. 

1879 Langton, H. H. 


Bethune, C.J. S. 

1880 McKenzie, W. P 


Henderson, Elmes 

1 88 1 Walker, W. H. 




1882 Young, A. H. 


Thomson, W. M. 

1883 Smith, A. G. 


Stowe, H.J. 

1884 Jones, J. E. 


Bardens, F. C. 

1885 Biggar, G.C. 


Mcllwraith, A. K. 

1886 Macdonald, A. A. 


Gibbon, M. F. 

1887 Leacock, S. B. 


Auden, M. F. 

1888 Crocker, H. G. 


Graburn, A. L. 

1889 MacDonnell, G. F. 


Plumptre, A. F. W. 

1890 Moss, C. A. 


Burton, F. W. 

1 89 1 Hilliar,T. H. 


Burton, F. W. 

1892 Franchot, K. 


Henderson, E. M. 

1893 Sandwell, B. K. 


Griffith, D. L. 

1894 Bolton, S. E. 


Griffith, D. L. 

1895 Henderson, V. E. 


Lawrence, G. M. 

1896 Coyne, J. B. 


Romeyn, J. A. 

1897 Aylesworth, A. F. 


Smith, A. C. 

1898 Roaf, H. E. 


Smith, W. C. 

1899 Darling, H. M. 


Bruce, D. I. W., aeq. 

1900 Creelman, J. J. 


Campbell, A. G., aeq 

1 90 1 Henderson, E. M. 


Goulding, W. S. 

1902 Harrison, F. C. 

1936 Daly, T. C. 

1903 Fletcher, K. G. 


Christie, P. A. 

1904 Wright, C. S. 


Baldwin, R. W. 

1905 Gordon, K. K. 


Baldwin, R. W. 

1906 Stairs, D. 


Soanes, S. V. 

1907 Beatty, P. W. 


Corbett, D. C. 

1908 Benjamin, J. A. 


Stanley, J. P. 

1909 Keys, D. A. 


Heap, D.J. M. 

19 10 Keys, D. A. 


Kilbourn, W. M. 

191 1 Grant, J. W. 


Stanley, D. C. H. 

191 2 Gibson, R. B. 


Macklem, M. K. 

191 3 Biggar, W. H. 


Stephenson, H. E. 

1 9 14 Peterson, J. A. S. 


Trotter, H. E. 

1915 Miller, B. H. 


Andison, D. 

1916 Kinney, A. M. 


Yeigh, L. E. 



1 95 1 Wickett, T. H. 

1952 Kirkwood, J. M. M. 

1953 Noxon, A. B. 

1954 Clarkson, S. H. E. 

1955 Ross, J.N. 

1956 Gladney, H. M. 

1957 Kerslake, L. C. 

1958 Wallace, M. B. 

1959 Young, C. E. 
i960 Fitch, W. 

1 96 1 McLeod, J. C. 

1962 Arthur, J. G. 

1963 Wilkins, J. A. 

1964 Gallimore, I. C. G. 

1965 Thorp, J. W. 

1966 Bradshaw, M. A. 

1967 Turnbull, C.J. M. 

1968 Oxley, P. M. 

1969 Lace, R. D. 

1970 Thompson, D. A. 

1 97 1 Wood, M.J. B. 

1972 Sinclair, A. N. 

1973 Knight, D. A., aeq. 

1973 Wang, J. K. T., aeq. 

1974 Coneybeare, J. J. C. 

1975 Stephens, N. D. 

1976 Kuo, P. T. C. 

1977 LegaultJ. R. F. 

1978 Cloutier, J. F. 

1979 Endicott, T. A. O. 



Editors of The CollegeTImes 


John Ross Robertson 


Mr. E. F. Crowdy 


L. Harstone 


Board of Stewards 

W. A. Langton 


D. A. Keys 


W. A. Langton 


R. B. Gibson 


E. B. Brown 


R. B. Gibson 

W. N. Ponton 


W. H. Biggar 


T. C. S. Macklem 


G. C. Aykroyd 


A. W. McDougald 


B. H. Miller 


S. B. Leacock 


A. M. B. Kinney 

F.J. Davidson 


E. C. Shurly 


G. F. Macdonnell 


G. de T. Glazebrook 

K. D. W. MacMillan 


A. F. Taylor 


C. A. Moss 


A. K. Mcllwraith 

H. P. Biggar 


G. S. Maclean 


T. H. Hilliar 


W. C. Innes 

J. H. Flintoft 

B. W. Doherty 


R. Franchot 


A. F. W. Plumptre 

W. W. Edgar 


R. W. Hill 


B. K. Sandwell 


W. P. Moss 


J. H. Biggar 


C. H. Bradburn 


R. H. Lindsay 

Mr. A. A. Macdonald 


R. H. Lindsay 

I 894- I 900 

Mr. A. A. Macdonald 


S. B. E. Ryerson 


Mr. W. A. R. Kerr 


J. W. Graham 

1 901 

Mr. A. W. Playfair 


D. S. Holmested 


Mr. E. McC. Sait 


J. A. Romeyn 




Robertson Davies 


J. F. Hutchinson 


G. H. Robertson 


D. D. Lister 


A. G. Campbell 


D. H. McMurtry 


J. S. Boeckh 


W. G. Ross 


J. S. Boeckh 


J. A. D. Stuart 


P. L. P. Macdonnell 

1 961 

D. R. A. Marshall 


J. E. D. Stuart 


G. D. Leveaux 


D. G. Watson 

D. K. Jeanneret 


R. W. L. Laidlaw 


J. W. Bosley 


I. M. Owen 


M. G. IgnatiefT 


P. R. Arthur 


G. A. Pargeter 


E. A. McCulloch 


D. L. Macbeth 


J. B. Lawson 

J. W. Smith 


D. S. G. Adam 


D. Kassner 


M. K. Macklem 


M. H. Webb 


J. A. Norman 


D. G. Flood 


H. W. Rowan 


B. G. Batler 


C. S. Stevenson 

J. H. Gibbons 


J. W. Wiegand 


G. F. Davies 


A. W. Plumstead 


A. E. S. Thompson 


J. R. Longstaffe 


J. L. Mitchell 

H. B. M. Best 


R. W. Bell 


J. R. F. Bower 


A. C. Elliott 

W. M. Franks 


J. C. Kofman 


A. B. Noxon 


B. R. Burrows 


S. H. E. Clarkson 


N. C. Voudouris 


D. R. Martyn 


B. W 7 . Muncaster 



). Herbert Mason Medal Winners 

IN THE LATE EIGHTIES, a College tradition began that, though 
changed somewhat over the years, has continued to the present. John 
Herbert Mason, a Toronto businessman who had founded the Can- 
ada Permanent Loan and Savings Company, visited England in 1887 
with his son Fred, an Old Boy. While there they visited HMS Worcester, 
an old wooden warship moored in the Thames which served as a train- 
ing college for merchant navy officers. On the visit they learned of a 
gold medal presented each year by Queen Victoria to an outstanding 
cadet. Both Mr. Mason and Fred thought such a medal might be a 
good scheme at UCG. Fred died of tuberculosis the next spring, and Mr. 
Mason presented the College with one thousand dollars to endow a gold 
and a silver medal, the J. Herbert Mason medals, in honour of Fred 
and his brother Herbert D. The criteria for the awards were the same as 
those for the Queen's medal: cheerful submission to authority; self-re- 
spect and independence of character; readiness to forgive offence; desire 
to conciliate the differences of others; and (above all) moral courage 
and unflinching truthfulness. 

In the twenties the medals came under fire from the boys and also 
from the masters, who wanted them discontinued. Because too much 
importance was attached to them, they made boys self-conscious. Grant 
courageously recommended their discontinuance, but the governors 
rejected the suggestion. Instead the number of nominees, formerly lim- 
ited to six, was expanded so that there was no limit. The rule about 
striking off one name at a time was changed; the master in charge 
struck off those he thought had no chance. 



In 1932, and again in 1933, The College Times launched a spirited 
attack on the medals. The qualifications, said the magazine, "reminis- 
cent of. . . a mid-Victorian school story," were incomplete — intelligence 
was omitted. Submission to authority carried to excess was a fault (con- 
sider Luther, Dante, Galileo). What about independence of character? 
The 1932 editor, Robertson Davies, went on to question whether 
schoolboys had the sort of discrimination required to weigh these vir- 
tues; judging between one character and another should be left to God. 
The next summer The College Times urged that the conditions be radi- 
cally amended or the medals abolished because they had outlived their 
usefulness. Mason's son, D. H. C. Mason, queried the articles, and 
Grant promised to see to what extent they represented the views of the 
whole College. Possibly as a result of this controversy, the gold and sil- 
ver medals became of equal value. In the seventies Sadleir softened the 
wording of the medals' criteria, increased the slate, and changed the 
voting procedures so that the election no longer carries the emotional 
charge it once did. 


Gold Silver 


G. Clayes 


G. F. Macdonnell 

A. E. Hoskin 


H. P. Biggar 

E. C. P. Clark 


J. L. Counsell 

A. F. Barr 


W. H. Hargraft 

A. R. Robertson 


F.J. McLennan 

D.J. Rayside 


F. W. McLennan 

A. Angus Macdonald 


R. S. Waldie 

M. C. Cameron 


R. H. Parmenter 

E. P. Brown 


W. C. Petherbridge 

C. W. Darling 


C. W. Darling 

J. A. S. Graham 






E. N. Martin 

H. F. Lownsbrough 


E. Boyd 

M. B. Bonnell 


R. H. Britton 

H. E. Beatty 


H.J. E. Keys 

J. F. Lash 


J. L. Pattinson 

A. M. Boyd 


O. A. Arton 

W. Dobson 


W. Dobson 

G. R. Davis 


G. R. Davis 

J. D. Woods 


G. E. Saunders 

P. W. Beatty 


D. M. Goldie 

J. V. Young 


H. M. Dawson 

G G. Carruthers 


J. R. Woods 

A. W. Sime 


M. A. Clarkson 

C. D. B. Palmer 


G. G. Garvey 

E. N. Gunsaulus 
V. A. MacLean 


P. H. DeGruchy 

C. M. Chandler 


A. M. Inglis 

G. C. Aykroyd 


C. G. M. Grier 

C. N. A. Ireson 


T. G. Drew- Brook 

E. W. Francis 


L. B. Hardaker 

E. C. Shurly 


C. W. Sime 

W. R. Mitchell 


T. L. Cross 

H. H. Hyland 


E. S. Davis 

J. W. Brathwaite 


P. H. Greey 

F. G. Shurly 


F. G. Shurly 

G. D. Lewis 


G. T. Meech 

C. M. King 


R. W. Hill 

A. C. Logie 


C. A. Seagram 

G. M. Wilton 


G. M. Wilton 

J. H. Biggar 


A. B. Matthews 

S. Benavides 


D. E. McQuigge 

D. M. Dewar 


J. I. Stewart 

J. W. Magladery 


W. D. S. Morden 

T. A. Schnauffer 


J. V. Cressy 

J. S. Woods 


F. N. Smith 

E. D. Fraser 


J. R. Denny 

D. C. Dellis 






D. W. Ross 

J. R. P. Gampbell 


J. D. Woods 

W. D. Cox 


J. A. Simpson 

W. G. Harvey 


J. R. Woods 

D. F. Lind 


D. W. Grant 

J. C. Carpenter 


J. A. Whittingham 

W. W. Drinkwater 


N. A. Urquhart 

J. H. Devlin 


J. B. Aird 

H. M. Little 


D. G. Herron 

A. K. Stuart 


H. R. Lawson 

G. W. Jamieson 


M. P. Murphy 

P. C. Bremner 


E. G. Beatty 

R. R. Horkins 


D. A. Barr 

G. I. Pringle 


D. B. Gossage 

T. H. Crerar 


D. S. Kent 

J. G. Sladen 


J. W. Linklater 

J. E. Fletcher 


R. C. W. Logie 

L. E. Yeigh 


R. W. Binnie 

P. H. Warren 


McG. Leishman 

R. M. Standing 


P. S. Lindsay 

W. E. Davison 


W. Webb 

G. A. Maclnnes 


G. A. Lewis 

J. R. Elder 


J. B. Maclnnes 

A. S. Hutchison 


W. M. McWhinney 

E. A. Barton 


C. A. Pielsticker 

J. W. Medland 


T. W. Sargeant 

N. T. Norris 


S. B. MacMurray 

W. G. Ross 


F. W. Thornton 

J. A. D. Stuart 


B. W. Ritter 

P. J. Brennan 


R. H. Hyland 

L. L. Howden 


F.J. S.Hall 

J. A. McCabe 


T. S. Wilson 

L. H. Black 


M. H. Biggs 

B. M. Doherty 


D. W. Reid 

H. A. Fisher 


J. C. Harvey 

R. L. McCabe 


J. A. Heintzman 

A.J. Hunter 






S. W. Lang 

R. G. N. Wright 


C. E. B. Taylor 

D. J. Hadden 


R. G. Meech 

R. M. Abraham 


J. N. Yamada 

A. K. Harvie 


D. C. Barrett 

I. C. McCluskey 


C. R. Carter 

D. A. Grean 


G. B. Hendrie 

G. P. Meredith 


P. S. MacGowan 

G. L. R. Ranking 
R.J. C. Stodgell 


I. R. E. Beverley 

R. D. Galvin 


T. G. Leishman 

T. A. O. Endicott 

41 1 


Commanding Officers 
of the Cadets 

1893 Cap 

1894 Cap 

1895 Cap 

1896 Cap 


1898 Lieu 

1 899 Lieu 

1 900 Lieu 

1 90 1 Lieu 

1902 Lieu 

1903 Lieu 

1904 Lieu 

1905 Lieu 

1906 Lieu 

1907 Cap 

1908 Cap 

1909 Cap 

1910 Cap 

191 1 Cap 

1912 Cap 

1913 Cap 

1914 Cap 

1915 Cap 

1916 Cap 

1917 Cap 

1918 Cap 

F. F. Hunter 


Capt. J. Y. W. Brathwaite 

H. F. Gooderham 


Capt. B. A. Mulqueen 

W. O. Watson 


Capt. F. G. Shurly 

H. R. Roaf 


Capt. C. M. King 


Capt. R. C. Clarkson 

J. D. Cochrane 


Capt. A. C. Logie 

T. M. Dunn 


Capt. J. A. D. Craig 

H. M. Peacock 


Capt. A. B. Matthews 

W. P. Unsworth 


Capt. J. G. Macdonnel 

E. R. Kirkpatrick 


Capt. F. L. Shipp 

R. Britton 


Capt. P. J. F. Baker 

N. R. Gooderham 


Capt. T. A. Schnaufer 

A. Gilmour 


Capt. D. F. B. Corbett 

C. S. Morse 


Capt. S. C. Wellington 

F.J. Mulqueen 


Capt. J. N. Gordon 

H. M. Dawson 


Capt. G. L. Symmes 

W. E. Saunders 


Capt.J. M. Gifford 

T. R. Manning 


Capt. J. E. Bone 

V. A. Maclean 


Capt. J. C. Carpenter 

F. M.Jones 


Capt. N. W. Gooderham 

S. B. Pepler 


Capt.J. B. Lawson 

C. N. A. Ireson 


Lt.-Col. D. H. Simpson 

H. W. Vacher 


Lt.-Col. D. G. M. Herron 

H. B. Tarbox 


Lt.-Col. W.J. Parry 

C. W. Sime 

Lt.-Col. H. R. Lawson 

H. H. Hyland 


Lt.-Col. E. D. G. Farncomb 




Lt.-Col. P. C. Bremner 


Lt.-Col. F. W. Thornton 


Lt.-Col. H. P. Wright 


Lt.-Col. P. J. Brennan 


Lt.-Col. W. A. Leckie 


Lt.-Col. D. I. Cameron 


Lt.-Col. A. C. Whealy 


Lt.-Col. J. A. McCabe 


Lt.-Col. J. W. Linklater 


Lt.-Col. R. F. G. Walsh 


Lt.-Col. W. R. Campbell 


Lt.-Col. J. H.Schneider 


Lt.-Col. R. W. H. Binnie 


Lt.-Col. N. R. Frost 


Lt.-Col. A. L. McBain 


Lt.-Col. R. L. McCabe 


Lt.-Col. P. S. Lindsay 


Lt.-Col. C. A. Armstrong 


Lt.-Col. R. I. Cartwright 


Lt.-Col. F. S. Lazier 


Lt.-Col. B. A. Bartels 


Lt.-Col. C. E. B. Taylor 


Lt.-Col. A. S. Hutchison 


Lt.-Col. J. B. Dalton 


Lt.-Col. T. G. Bastedo 


Lt.-Col. A. K. Harvie 


Lt.-Col. B. C. Matthews 


Lt.-Col. J. L. Boeckh 


Lt.-Col. W. G. Pedoe 


Lt.-Col. P. C. Neal 


Lt.-Col. D. H. Walton-Ball 



Head Stewards 


I. M. Gray 


W. C. Sharpstone 


J.J. L.White 


A.J. Hunter 


J. B. Maclnnis 


J. W. H. Cranford 


E. D. Scott 


P. G. Findlay 


J. O. Essaye 


J. H. Gibbons 


G. C. Magee 


R. R. Oss 


T. M. Allen 


I. G. McCluskey 


E. M. Squires 


D. A. Crean 


P.J. Brennan 


G. P. Meredith 


R. H. Hyland 


R. J. C. Stodgell 


F.J. S.Hall 


I. R. E. Beverley 


T. S. Wilson 


T. G. Leishman 


R. W. Brooks-Hill 


R. G. Willoughby 


D. W. Reid 



Head Prefects' Trophy Winners 








































Howard's tie 



Seaton's tie 








































Selected Bibliography 


BUA Bishop's University Archives (Lennoxville, Quebec) 

CO Colonial Office 

dhe Documentary History of Education 

kcc King's College Council 

MTLB Metropolitan Toronto Library Board 

ohs Ontario Historical Society 

PAC Public Archives of Canada 

PAO Public Archives of Ontario 

QUA Queen's University Archives (Kingston, Ontario) 

UCCA Upper Canada College Archives 

UTA University of Toronto Archives 

A. Non-book sources: 

BUA — 

MacDermot Papers 

Legislative Library — 

Upper Canada College Sessional Papers 1 868-99 

Upper Canada College Pamphlets 




Baldwin Papers 

J. G. Howard Diaries 

T. A. Reed Scrapbooks 

Scadding Diaries 

Larratt Smith Diaries 

PAC — 

Denison Papers 

W. L. Grant Papers 

Leacock Papers 

Parkin Papers 

Willison Papers 

Record Group i E, State Records of the Executive Council 

Record Group 5 A, Civil Secretary's Correspondence 

Record Group 5 B, Miscellaneous Records 

Record Group 5 c, Provincial Secretary's Correspondence 

Colonial Office Series 42 

PAO — 

J. C. Bailey Papers 

Blake Papers 

Boulton Letters, Women's Canadian Historial Society, Vol. i< 

Gzowski Papers 

Hodgins Papers 

Howard Papers 

Jarvis-Powell Papers 

Kingsford Scrapbooks 

Langton Papers 

Macaulay Papers 

Merritt Papers 

Strachan Letter Books 

Strachan Papers 

Record Group 2 Ministry of Education 

Record Group 3 Premier's Papers 


Peacock Papers 




The documents in the Upper Canada College Archives are so 
numerous and scattered that they cannot be listed in an 
orderly fashion. Of special significance, however, are the 
complete run of The College Times and the Harris Papers. 

UTA — 

Office of the Secretary of the Board of Governors. Minutes. 

King's College Council. Board of Governors. Letter Books. 

A70-0024/001 (01) (02) 
Office of the Chief Accountant. A68-0010/316 
Senate. Statutes. A70-ooo5/ooi(o3) 
Upper Canada College. A76-0002 and A74-0018 
UCC Council. Board of Governors. Minute Book. 1850-53. 


B. Printed Sources: 

COCKBURN, G. R. R. Statement to the Committee of the Legislature on 
Education. Hunter, Rose, 1869. 

CRUIKSHANK, E. A., ed. The Correspondence of Lieut. Governor John 
Graves Simcoe. Ontario Historical Society, 1923. 

FAIRLEY, MARGARET. The Selected Writings of William Lyon 
Mackenzie. Oxford University Press, i960. 

Final Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Affairs of King's 
College University and Upper Canada College. Rollo Campbell, 

GODLEY, J. R. Letters from America. John Murray, 1844. 

HARRIS, REV. J. H. Observations on Upper Canada College. R. Stan- 
ton, 1836. 

HODGINS, J. G. Toronto University Question, Vols. 1-16. Unpub- 

MAGRATH, T. W. Authentic Letters from Upper Canada. Curry, Dub- 
lin, 1833. 

MCCAUL, JOHN. The University Question Considered. H. & W. 
Rowsell, 1845. 

O'BRIAN, M. S. The Journals of Mary O'Bnan 1828-38. Edited by 
A. S. Miller. Macmillan, 1968. 



Ontario Grammar School Masters' Association. The U. C. 
College Question. "True Banner" Power Press, 1868. 

Proceedings had in the Legislature of Upper Canada during the years 
1 83 1, 1832, and 1833. Desbarats & Derbishire, Montreal, 

SYLVESTER, ALFRED. Sketches of Toronto. Holliwell, Toronto, 

URE, G. P. The Hand-Book of Toronto. Lovell and Gibson, Toron- 
to, 1858. 

C. Newspapers: 


The Church 

Colonial Advocate 

Mail and Empire 

Newspaper Hansard (microfilm — newspaper extracts of Ontario 

legislative debates) 
St. Catharines Standard 
Saturday Night 
Telegram (Toronto) 
Toronto Daily Star 
Toronto Globe 
Toronto News 
Toronto World 
Upper Canada Gazette 
The Varsity 
Weekly Sun 


A. Books and Monographs: 

ATWOOD, MARGARET. Days of the Rebels. Natural Science of 

Canada, Toronto, 1977. 
BAMFORD, T. w. Rise of the Public Schools. Nelson, 1967. 



BELL, w. N. The Development of the Ontario High School. University 

of Toronto Press, 191 8. 
BERGER, CARL. The Sense of Power. University of Toronto 

Press, 1970. 
,ed. Imperialism and Nationalism 1884-1914: A Conflict in 

Canadian Thought. Copp Clark, 1969. 
BOORMAN, SYLVIA. John Toronto. Clarke Irwin, 1969. 
COLEMAN, H. T. J. Public Education in Upper Canada. New 

York, 1907. 
CRAIG, G. M. Discontent in Upper Canada. Copp Clark, 1974. 
. Upper Canada: The Formative Years. McClelland & 

Stewart, 1963. 
DAVIES, ROBERTSON. Stephen Leacock. McClelland & Stewart, 

dendy, WILLIAM. Lost Toronto. Oxford University Press, 1978. 
DICKSON, G., and ADAM, G. M. A History of Upper Canada College. 

Rowsell and Hutchison, 1893. 
FILLMORE, STANLEY. The Pleasure of the Came. Toronto 

Cricket, Skating, and Curling Club, 1977. 
firth, E. G. The Town of York. University of Toronto Press, 

GLAZEBROOK, G. P. DE T. Life in Ontario. University of Toronto 

Press, 1968. 
GOSSAGE, CAROLYN. A Question of Privilege: Canada's Indepen- 
dent Schools. P. Martin Associates, 1977. 
HARRIS, ROBIN s. Quiet Evolution. University of Toronto Press, 

HODGINS, J. G. Documentary History of Education in Upper 

Canada (Ontario). Vols. 1-28. L. K. Cameron, 1906. 
. Historical and Other Papers and Documents. Vol. 1. L. K. 

Cameron, 191 1. 

Schools and Colleges of Ontario, iyg2-igw. L. K. 

Cameron, 191 o. 
inglis, BRIAN, ed.John Bull's School Days. Hutchinson, 1961. 



KILBOURN, WILLIAM. The Firebrand. Clarke Irwin, 1956. 

king, j. McCaul, Croft, Fornen. Macmillan, 19 14. 

LAWR. D. A., and GIDNEY, R. D., eds. Educating Canadians: A Doc- 
umentary History of Public Education. Van Nostrand Rein- 
hold, 1973. 

leacock, STEPHEN. The Boy I Left Behind Me. The Bodley 
Head, London, 1947. 

. Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town. McClelland & 

Stewart, 191 2. 

LEGATE, DAVID M. Stephen Leacock. Doubleday Canada, 1970. 

MCLACHLAN, JAMES. American Boarding Schools. Charles 
Scribner's, 1970. 

MC NAB, G. G. The Development of Higher Education in Ontario. 
Ryerson Press, 1925. 

OGILVIE, VIVIAN. The English Public School. B. T. Batsford, 

PARKIN, GEORGE R. The Great Dominion. Macmillan, 1895. 
POULTON, RON. The Paper Tyrant. Clarke Irwin, 1971. 
ROBERTSON, J. R. Landmarks of Toronto. Vols. 1-6. J. R. 

Robertson, Toronto, 1894-1914. 
. Old Toronto. Edited by E. C. Kyte. Macmillan, 

ROSS, G. W. Getting into Parliament and After. Wm. Briggs, 191 3. 
ROSS, SIR G. w. Speeches delivered in the Legislature, April 21, 20, 

1887. Toronto, 1887. 
ROTHBLATT, SHELDON. The Revolution of the Dons. Faber and 

Faber, 1968. 
SAMUEL, SIGMUND. In Return: The Autobiography of Sigmund 

Samuel. University of Toronto Press, 1963. 
scadding, HENRY. Toronto of Old. Edited by F. H. Arm- 
strong, Oxford University Press, 1966. 
SCHULL, J. J. Edward Blake. 2 vols. Macmillan of Canada, 

1975 and 1976. 
SIMON, BRIAN. Studies in the History of Education, 1780- 1870. 

Laurence & Wishart, i960. 



SISSONS, c. B. Egerton Ryerson, His Life and Times. Clarke Irwin, 
1937. Oxford University Press, 1937. 

SMITH, G. C. MOORE. The Life of John Colborne, Field Marshal 
Lord Seaton. John Murray, 1903. 

SOWBY, C. w. A Family Writ Large. Longman, 1971. 

SWAN, CONRAD. Canada: Symbols of Sovereignty. University of 
Toronto Press, 1977. 

Toronto Scrapbook. 

trevelyan, G. M. British History in the Nineteenth Century, 
1782-igoi. Longman Green, 1925. 

The University of Toronto and Its Colleges, 1827- igo6. The Librar- 
ian. The University Library, 1906. 

WALLACE, ELISABETH. Goldwin Smith, Victorian Liberal. Uni- 
versity of Toronto Press, 1927. 

WALLACE, w. s. A History of the University of Toronto, 1827- ig2 7. 
University of Toronto Press, 1927. 

willison, SIR JOHN. Sir George Parkin. Macmillan, 1929. 

YOUNG, A. H., ed. The Roll of Pupils of Upper Canada College 
Toronto, January 1830 to June igi6. Hanson, Crozier and 
Edgar, Kingston, 191 7. 

eds. Aspects of igth- Century Ontario. University of Toronto 
Press, 1974. 

WILSON, J. D., stamp, R. M., and audet, L-R, eds. Canadian 
Education: A History. Prentice-Hall, Toronto, 1970. 

B. Articles: 

COOK, TERRY G. "George R. Parkin and the Concept of Bri- 
tannic Idealism". Journal of Canadian Studies. Vol. 10, no. 3 
(August 1975). 

GIDNEY, J. D. "Centralization in Ontario Education". Journal of 
Canadian Studies. Vol. 7, no. 4 (November 1972). 

. "Elementary Education in Upper Canada: A 

Reassessment". Ontario History. Vol. 65, no. 3 (Septem- 
ber 1973). 

. "The Rev. Robert Murray: Ontario's First 

Superintendent of Schools". Ontario History. Vol. 63, no. 4 
(December 1971). 



. "Upper Canadian Public Opinion and Com- 
mon School Improvement in the 1830's". Histoire Sociale/ 
Social. Vol. 5, no. 9 (April 1972), pp. 48-60. 

Houston, susan E. "Politics, Schools and Social Change in 
Upper Canada". Canadian Historical Review. Vol. 53, 
no. 3 (September 1972). 

page, R. J. D. "Carl Berger and the Intellectual Origins of 
Canadian Imperialist Thought, 1867-19 14". Journal of 
Canadian Studies. Vol. 5, no. 3 (August 1970). 

purdy, J. D. "John Strachan's Educational Policies". 
Ontario History. Vol. 54 (1972), pp. 45-64. 

SPRAGGE, G. w. "Elementary Education in Upper Can- 
ada, 1820-40". Ontario History. Vol. 43 (1952). 

C. Dissertations and Research Papers: 

cook, terry G. "Apostle of Empire". Unpublished PHD 

Thesis. Queen's University, 1977. 
SMITH, isobel. "Upper Canada College: The First Decade". 

Unpublished research paper. York University, 1975. 

D. Other sources: 

Barron Family Papers (in possession of Mr. Christopher Bar- 

Watson Family Papers — Beverley Jones diary (in possession of 
Mrs. Alan Watson). 


Public Archives Canada — Annual Report 1935. 

Public Archives Canada — State Papers uc Q Series. Anno- 
tated copy. 

University of Toronto — Pamphlets. 

Upper Canada College — Pamphlets. 

The Bystander, Vol. I (January-June 1881), pp. 14-16. 

Canadian Magazine: Vol. 1, no. 6 (August 1893), pp. 451-59; 
Vol. 7, no. 5 (September 1896), pp. 477-79; Vol. 54, no. 5 



(March 1920), pp. 407-16; Vol. 56, no. 2 (December 
1920), pp. 170-72. 

Correspondence with Old Boys is in the possession of the au- 




A clear, concise account of the educational scene in the province of 
Upper Canada prior to the founding of Upper Canada College can be 
found in Canadian Education: A History, edited by J. D. Wilson, R. M. 
Stamp, and L-P. Audet. J. D. Wilson's excellent "Education in Upper 
Canada: Sixty Years of Change" (Chapter 10) was especially valuable. 
In writing this chapter, I have incorporated considerable material from 
this source. 

Also of value was J. D. Purdy, John Strachan's Educational Policies. J. G. 
Hodgins, Documentary History of Education, Vols. 1 and 3, and George 
Dickson and G. Mercer Adam, History of Upper Canada College, 
i82g-i8g2 (hereafter Dickson and Adam) have material germane to 
this period. 

1 The Correspondence of Lieut. Governor John Graves Simcoe, Vol. I, p. 143. 
Simcoe to Colonial Secretary of State Dundas, April 1792. 

2 Despatch of the Duke of Portland, The Colonial Secretary, to the 
Legislature, November 4, 1797. Cited in DHE, Vol. 1, p. 18. 


i The year 1942 saw the inception of the Founder's Day Dinner, now 

an annual event, to celebrate Colborne's birthday. 
2 Colborne to the KCC. Cited in DHE, Vol. 3, p. 24. 



3 Colborne's "instructions" were not really instructions at all. The 
colonial secretary, Sir George Murray, had written Colborne a 
memorandum prior to his embarkation for Canada explaining the 
delicate King's College situation. The memorandum stated that the 
House of Assembly was unhappy about the Anglican and exclusive 
flavour of the charter; a new one was desired. The British govern- 
ment regretted not pleasing those it desired to please and accepted 
the fact that the Assembly expressed the prevailing opinion. The 
message suggested that the Legislative Council and House of Assem- 
bly resume their consideration of the question. These "instructions" 
effectively put the solution in Colborne's hands because the Council 
and the Assembly could never agree. 

4 The House of Assembly to Colborne, March 1829. Cited in DHE, 
Vol. 1, p. 273. 

5 Colborne to Vice-Chancellor Jones of Oxford. Cited in DHE, Vol. 1, 
p. 286. 

6 Enormous is a relative word. In England, Eton, Rugby, and Harrow 
occupied a world remote from other schools. Arnold, for example, 
got £4,000 a year, and housemasters £1,500. In other public schools, 
£150 to £250 was considered quite enough for assistant masters right 
up to 19 14. In Upper Canada, the College salaries were grand com- 
pared to the grammar-school masters'. 

7 The Old Blue School had had several sites: the south-east corner of 
King and George; near the north-east corner of King and Yonge; 
and, at this time, the middle of College Square. It had been painted 
blue with white trim by John Strachan. 

8 Final Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the Affairs of King's College 
University and Upper Canada College, p. 339. 

9 Colborne to Jones. Cited in DHE. Vol. 1, p. 287. 

10 Dickson and Adam, p. 37. 

1 1 In 1832 William Dunlop, in Statistical Sketches of Upper Canada, wrote, 
"And these masters being chosen from Oxford and Cambridge, of 
which universities they are graduates, for their talents, we may say 
that the means of education are now as good in Canada as at any of 
the great chartered schools of England. The only objection is that 



the majority of the masters are Cantabs; whereas it would have 
been more advisable had they been selected from the more orthodox 
and gentlemanly university." 

12 PAO, CO 42, Vol. 388, pp. 75-82, Colborne to R. W. Hay. 

13 The year's calendar in 1830 differed from today's mainly regarding 
the summer break. The winter term ended around March 10, and 
was followed by a week's vacation. The spring term was followed 
almost immediately by the summer term, which ended August 16. A 
six-week summer vacation finished towards the end of September. 
The autumn term then broke off before Christmas, leading into a 
two-week holiday. 

14 Albion, Vol. 8, no. 38, p. 303, February 27, 1830. 

15 Upper Canada Gazette, April 22, 1830. 

16 Colborne to the House of Assembly, Feb. 4, 1830. Cited in DHE, Vol. 
1, p. 296. 

17 William Lyon Mackenzie reckoned that between 1829 and 1835 the 
Legislative Council threw out 154 bills sent to it by the House of 

18 Dr. Harris, in explaining the part played by religion in the curricu- 
lum said, "I would also remark on the occasional reading and com- 
mitting to memory of the Scripture, that as the Scholars consist of 
the children of Parents of every religious denomination, particular 
care is taken to adhere strictly to the simple text without any com- 
ment or explanation further than concerns its literal and grammati- 
cal sense and in the Preparatory School, in consequence of a repre- 
sentation made to me some time since, those scholars who are 
Roman Catholic make use of the Douai version of the New Testa- 
ment." Dickson and Adam, p. 56. 

19 A lack of clear, concise wording was apparent in the 1798 land- 
grant of 549,000 acres for education. The request had been for four 
grammar schools and a university. The actual grant spoke of free 
grammar schools and "other seminaries of a larger and more com- 
prehensive nature." Nobody ever knew what was meant by this 
description. It could certainly describe a university; it could just as 
easily describe the institution Colborne later founded in York. UCC 



was a seminary, and it was certainly larger and more comprehen- 
sive than the standard grammar school. Few people were convinced, 
however, that it was what the Crown had had in mind, and it was 
never forgotten that UCC's rich endowment came from the provin- 
cial education grant. 

20 The final College endowment consisted not of one township but of 
lots scattered throughout more than forty townships. By exchanges 
of land and re-surveys, the total area reached just over 64,000 acres, 
the equivalent of one township. 

21 Goderich, like Murray and others, did not like the name Colborne 
had chosen. Indeed, many people still did not know what to call the 
new school. Minor College was widely used. 

22 PAO, PAC ig35 Report, p. 251, Goderich to Colborne. 

23 UTA, Office of the Chief Accountant, UCC Council Minutes, June 
19, 1830, A68-0010/316. 

24 After ucc moved out, the old grammar-school building was closed 
for a time. Some years later parents living in the eastern part of the 
city, who found the College too far away, started a movement to 
resuscitate the grammar school. In 1836, the Home District School 
was again occupied under the headmastership of Charles Cosens. 
This school was the forerunner of Jarvis Collegiate. 

25 Scadding in Dickson and Adam, pp. 39-40. 

26 Historically speaking in England, a Visitor could have some impor- 
tance in the setting of policy. As time passed, the title became nomi- 
nal. In Colborne's day, it implied the possibility of inspection or 
supervision to remove abuses or irregularities. 

27 Egerton Ryerson, quoted in DHE, Vol. 2, p. 7. 

28 Colborne to Methodist Conference, ibid., p. 1 1. 

29 Ryerson to Colborne, ibid., p. 12. 

30 This and other quotes in this paragraph, PAO, CO 42, Vol. 395, p. 
131, Feb. 23, 183 1. 

31 Colonial Advocate, May 19, 1831. During the next twenty years Mac- 
kenzie must have mellowed somewhat. In 1852 his sons William 
and George joined the school "never intended for the people." 

32 PAO, Macaulay Papers, Strachan to J. Macaulay, May 12, 1831. 



33 The actual annual cost of the College's operation was high 
— between £6,000 and £7,000. By 1839 the College had fallen 
behind by over £30,000 in its accounts. 

34 From the Third Report of the Select Committee on Education 1833. Cited in 
DHE, Vol. 2, p. 106. 

35 Mrs. Boulton to Boulton, pao, The Boulton Letters, Vol. 18, p. 47, 
April 4, 1834. 

36 PAO, CO 42, Vol. 419, pp. 317-22. Phillips to Colborne, June 16, 

37 Seventh Report of Committee on Grievances, March 13, 1835. Cited in 
DHE, Vol. 2, p. 188. 

Thomas Radcliff, a half-pay officer, conservative, reasonably 
well-to-do, and an Anglican, wrote home to his father about the 
shortage of common-school teachers who were paid (when they were 
paid at all) £2 per quarter per pupil, with a class of about twenty in 
the winter and fewer in the summer when many stayed on the farm. 
This was a shocking contrast to ucc, where the lowest salary was 
£300, "a noble brick house," and boarders at £50 per annum. Rad- 
cliff did not seem perturbed by the contrast. Authentic Letters from 
Upper Canada, p. 205. 

38 Glenelg to Head, Dec. 5, 1835. Cited in dhe, Vol. 2, p. 281. 

39 Colborne went on to become Commander of the Forces putting 
down the rebellion in Lower Canada. He became Lord Seaton in 
1840 and died, full of honours, in 1863. 

40 7, Wm. iv, 16. 

41 Harris's first wife and elder child had died within six days of each 
other in November 1833. His second wife was Lady Colborne's sis- 

42 pao, The Boulton Letters, Vol. 18, p. 46, Boulton to Mrs. Boulton, 
Nov. 30, 1833. 

43 MTLB, Observations on Upper Canada College, p. 19. 

44 The Church, Feb. 10, 1838. 

45 The Church, Feb. 26, 1838. 



The chief source for this chapter was Dickson and Adam, especially 
Chapters 6 and 17, written by William Thomson and John Ross Rob- 
ertson respectively. The Merritt journal quotations are from The College 
Times, Easter 1897. Other Old Boys' reminiscences are scattered 
throughout various College Times issues around the turn of the century. 

1 On leaving UCC Kent declined the offer of bursarship of King's Col- 
lege, a decision he doubtless never regretted. Instead, he became 
editor of the High Anglican newspaper, The Church. 

2 Charles Lindsey, The Life and Times of William Lyon Mackenzie, Vol. 1, 
p. 40. Cited in W. Kilbourn, The Firebrand. 

CHAPTER 4— GROWING PAINS 1 838- 1 86 1 

i MTLB, Scadding diaries, Sept. 5, 1838. Scadding, while teaching at 
UCC, was the first rector of the Church of the Holy Trinity. He 
became canon at St. James' Cathedral, was president of the Cana- 
dian Institute, and was one of the founders and first president of the 
York Pioneers Society. After his retirement in 1862 he became a 
prolific chronicler of early Toronto, writing Toronto of Old and over 
seventy treatises on a variety of subjects. On two occasions, in 1856 
and 1 86 1, he was acting-principal, having refused the principalship 
the first time. In i960 his name was honoured when one of the new 
day-boy houses was named Scadding's. 

2 Ibid., Dec. 21, 1838. 

3 Final Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry . . . , p. 360. 

4 The 1 84 1 "Subjects of Examination," in addition to the standard 
work, included Sophocles's Oedipus Rex; Horace's Ars Poetica; por- 
tions of Plato and Longinus; plane trigonometry, logarithms, and 
elementary conic sections; mechanics; natural philosophy (astron- 
omy and optics; elementary); and logic. 



5 Charles Dickens, American Notes. Cited in The College Times, Summer 
1910, p. 30. 

6 The enrolment was in the habit of soaring and diving inexplicably. 
Between the end of 1839 and the end of 1840 it dropped from 170 to 
129. Between the end of 1841 and the end of 1842, it climbed from 
129 to 168. 

7 Letters from America,]. R. Godley, Vol. 1, pp. 194-97. 

8 The original fees of £8 for day boys rose to £9 in 1837 and to £10 in 
1850. From 1855 to i860 there was a period of instability when they 
actually dropped. In i860 they stabilized at $40 (£10). The original 
boarder fees of £25 rose to £30 in 1834, to £40 in 1850, and stabi- 
lized at $180 (£45) in 1857. 

9 Wells had been a half-pay army officer appointed to both the Legis- 
lative and Executive councils. He had had no training in book- 
keeping, and the accounts were in a shocking state. De la Haye 
owed £400, G. A. Barber owed £1,539, Wells himself owed £215. 
Arrears of land sales amounted to £6,000, arrears of dues totalled 
£4,000 — over £13,000 was missing. John Strachan was one of a 
number of friends to whom Wells had extended large unsecured 
loans from the treasury. Several people had never even paid the first 
instalment on their land purchases. As a result of these bizarre dis- 
closures, Wells was dismissed. 

10 UTA, Board of Governors, King's College Council. Letter Book. 
March 16, 1840. A70-0024/092.0001-001 1. 

1 1 The College Times, Easter 1901, p. 17. 

12 Meredith became principal of McGill in 1846, and later served as a 
high-ranking federal civil servant from 1867 to 1878. 

1 3 This position was not, in fact, open. The College already had three 
classical masters: Mathews, Barron, and Scadding. Mathews's 
departure and Barron's elevation to principal allowed Ripley to fit 

14 Proceedings of KCC, Nov. 18, 1843. Cited in DHE, Vol. 4, p. 299. 

15 Barron was a boxer, a fencer, an oarsman, "the best and most grace- 
ful skater on the Bay of Toronto," a member of the Royal Canadian 
Yacht Club, and a premier cricketer. In 1836 he played on the first 



UCC cricket team ever formed. (The quotation is in the Barron 
Family Papers.) 

1 6 The Church, Nov. i, 1849. 

17 Between 1847 and 1854, 1,264 students attended the normal school. 
Almost 60 per cent were Methodists or Presbyterians; less than 17 
per cent were Church of England — a sharp contrast to the College 

18 Since King's had opened in 1843, UCC had fulfilled its role as feeder. 
In the first year it supplied thirty-one out of thirty-four students. 
Over a seven-year period, more than 65 per cent of King's matricu- 
lated students and 1 7 per cent of its occasionals came from the Col- 
lege. In total, 103 out of 282 students were from UCC. In 1848, UCC 
boys took the top six Exhibitions at King's. 

19 Final Report of the Commissioners of Inquiry, p. 3. 

20 Ibid., p. 365. Some of Mr. De la Haye's Memorandum notes were 
not without a grim humour: 

Mr. Gifford 1831 Dead, not worth 

a straw £6.11.8 

Mrs. Hall 1831 What's her 

Christian name? £52.1 1.5 

Mrs. Hutcheson 1839-40 Not worth suing. £35.9.11 

T. Morgan 1833 Don't know who or 

where he is £10.16.0 

21 MTLB, Baldwin Papers, Vol. 33, no. 41. 

22 Ibid., no. 42. 

23 Ibid., no. 50. 

24 Seniors were allowed out three times a week until five. Juniors were 
allowed out only on Saturdays. A written invitation could obtain a 
Sunday leave. 

25 UTA, Upper Canada College, Board of Governors, Minute Book, 
1850-53. Feb. 24, 1 85 1. A70-0024/058. 

26 Ibid. 

27 Ibid., May 30, 1851. 

28 The details of the Barron-Maynard scandal are all contained in 
PAC, Provincial Secretary's Correspondence, 182 1 -6 J (RG.5.C.1.), Vol. 452. 



Other information is in PAC, The Upper Canada Executive Council Min- 
ute Books (rg.i.E.i.) See State Book O, p. 44 and in Provincial Secre- 
tary's Office Letter Books 183J-6J (RG.5.C.2.), Vols. 30 and 32. 

29 UTA, King's College Council, Minutes, July 1847, A70-0024. 

30 The press reported the police-court evidence in great detail. The 
Daily Leader wanted to know what was happening at UCC, which 
was, after all, a public institution, endowed with public money. The 
Globe wondered how Maynard had managed to stay at the College 
for such a long time without being removed, and went on to criticize 
the whole system of governing the College from Quebec. It was a 
splendid opportunity to disparage everything about UCC. 

31 Elmer, expelled in 1847, returned to testify against Maynard. May- 
nard had taunted him with his blacksmith origins and later struck 
at his head and face. Elmer had caught the blow on his arm and 
seized Maynard by the throat, but Maynard 's black satin cravat 
had slipped through Elmer's hands. Maynard had then hit Elmer 
three times, Elmer replying with a blow from his slate. Elmer felt no 
hatred, only contempt. 

32 Hearing about the writing of this history, Maynard's great-grand- 
daughter, Nancy (Thorne) Murray of Sault Ste. Marie, wrote to 
the author giving some details about her great-grandfather. She 
describes him as a brilliant mathematician with a violent temper, 
who caned boys for picking his prize Holland tulips. "There might 
not be money for butter, but always money for . . . tulip bulbs." 

33 The population of York in the 1851 census was 30,775. The Church 
of England adherents numbered 1 1,577 (about 38 per cent). 

34 Brown's stay at UCC stretched to thirty-one productive years, but he 
almost did not get in. Maynard, having been dismissed, sent har- 
rowing letters to both the Governor General and the senate bewail- 
ing his severe treatment. He was a man who, twenty years before, 
had left England, friends, and good prospects, who had punctually 
and faithfully performed his duties, who was not yet fifty but had 
five children, who was unfit for other employment and, who, with a 
bad press, might not find another job. He asked to be reinstated. 
With a new set of governing statutes, he said, everything would be 



all right. The Governor General took two months before telling 
Maynard to vacate the premises by December 3 1 . Nothing discour- 
aged, he tried again — on the verge of a Canadian winter, removing 
heavy stores, making many adjustments. Could he wait until spring? 
The Governor General demurred. Still in his house at the end of 
January, Maynard lost the key. At long last, well into February, 
Brown took possession. 

35 PAO, Strachan Letter Books, July 1856. After he left UCC Barron 
was offered a post in the Normal School but turned it down. Barron 
then headed Cobourg Grammar School and later Barron's School 
for Boys at Gore's Landing, Rice Lake. He was an ardent Mason, 
eventually becoming Senior Warden of the Grand Lodge of Cana- 
da. His son, Judge John Barron, an Old Boy, was a member of the 
House of Commons and was instrumental in augurating competi- 
tion for the Stanley Cup. Judge Barron's son, John A. Barron, was 
one of six original RCN midshipmen who started the Canadian Navy 
in 1908. He rose to command one of the biggest dirigibles of all 
time, the R-100. 

36 Currency — always difficult to interpret accurately — changed from 
sterling to dollars between 1855 and i860. From 1857 on dollars will 
be referred to in the text at the convenient conversion rate of £1 = 
$4.00. As of April 1857 salaries were: principal $2,400, classical and 
mathematical masters $1,336, the remainder $800. All but two 
received a residence. In addition, all masters received one-ninth of 
half the fees received each term. An average male teaching salary in 
provincial towns was $700. 

37 PAC, RG.5.C.L., vol. 522. 

38 The College Times, Easter 1 go 1 , p. 16. 

39 On his application Connon said he was prepared to lecture on a 
variety of subjects, including the life and death of Socrates, the 
fables of Aesop, the seven wonders of the world, the seven champi- 
ons of Christendom, the shores of the Mediterranean, the rise and 
fall of Carthage, the routes of commerce, Charles the First, the life 
and poetry of Gray, Cowper, Byron, Shelley, Wordsworth, Tenny- 
son, etc. 



40 Making judgments about the College's university scholarship record 
is very difficult. The university had a rule which stated that only the 
last year of a winner's education was cited. A boy with several years 
at a grammar school and one last year at UCC might win an award. 
UCC received credit. In 1851 a boy named Marling, who had had 
four years at UCC and then left for one year's tuition with a Mr. 
Wickson, won a scholarship, and Wickson's name was cited. Barron 
was irked by this. 

41 It is interesting to note that ten days after Stennett's appointment 
was announced, a group of Old Boys sent a petition to the Governor 
General blaming the recent (1854-55) decline in UCC's fortunes on 
the university senate, and asking that the school be placed under the 
control of a council of its own, composed of ex-pupils. The petition 
was signed by, among others, Larratt W. Smith, John Beverley 
Robinson, Lukin Robinson, Adam Crooks, and R. L. Denison. 
Stennett might have been happier with them as the governing body. 

42 After his retirement from ucc Stennett moved to Keswick, where he 
designed and built with his own hands a small stone church called 
Christ Church. He also ran a private school called Beechcroft, at 
Roches Point. Later he succeeded his father-in-law, Dr. A. N. 
Bethune, as rector of Cobourg. 


Between 1 895 and 1 905 The College Times ran a good many gossipy rem- 
iniscences by Old Boys. Much of this chapter consists of extracts from 
these articles, though they are not specified here. 

1 UTA, KCC, Board of Governors, Minutes, December 3, 1842. 

2 UCCA, Morris letter. 

3 UCCA, Hutt letter. 

4 Birdsall letter and diary. Courtesy of Mrs. R. Birdsall Elmhurst, 
Hastings, Ontario. 



5 The Roll of Pupils of Upper Canada College, p. 15. 

6 PAO, Jarvis-Powell Letters, Letter no. 36, June 8, 1842. Francis's 
facility in English evidently improved rapidly. By the time he left 
UCC in 1843 he had done well. During his career with the govern- 
ment Indian department he read several papers before the Cana- 
dian Institute which were described as "clear and eloquent." 

7 Dickson and Adam, pp. 230-31. 

8 UTA, UCC, Board of Governors, Minutes 1850-53, March 27, 1852. 

9 PAO, Strachan Letter Book, Reel no. 10, March 17, 1840. 

10 PAC, RG.5.C.1., vol. 18, no. 2149, June 15, 1839. 

1 1 Ibid. 

12 Beverley Jones diary. Courtesy of Mrs. Alan Watson. 

CHAPTER 6— MATURITY l86l-l88l 

1 UCC has had four doctors spanning 116 years: Barrett, James 
Thorburn, A. J. Mackenzie, and W. A. McTavish. 

2 UTA, Minute book of Committee on ucc, March 6, 1865. 

3 The enlargement was due for completion in 1870, but in March of 
that year a fire intervened, damaging stables, sheds, and Cockburn's 
own house. 

4 T. W. Bamford, Rise of the Public Schools, p. 90. 

5 The Upper Canada College Question, p. 55. 

6 DHE, vol. 2 I , pp. 4-29. 

7 There was no system of automatic salary raises at this time. Masters 
simply had to ask for them; some succeeded, some failed. The uni- 
versity senate passed a statute if it thought a raise was appropriate. 

8 The College finances were so sound, money was available for loans 
"for a long or short period of years at 8 per cent interest." Farm 
property was the preferred security. Quote is from the Toronto Globe, 
1878. Cited in The College Times, Christmas 1935. 



9 Smith had been born in England, educated at Eton and Oxford, 
and taught at both Oxford and Cornell. He had great intellectual 
gifts and exceedingly individualistic views about almost everything. 
He was a leading figure in the "Canada first" group, derogated 
imperial federation, and advocated the political union of North 
America. His main work was literary and editorial, and he was 
extremely influential. 

io The Toronto World, Feb. 28, 1881. 

11 St. Catharines Standard, March 1, 1881. 

12 After leaving the College, Cockburn entered politics and banking. 
He ran as a Conservative in Centre Toronto in 1887, winning the 
seat and holding it until 1896. He chaired the House Committee on 
Banking and Commerce for some time and was Chief Commissioner 
for Canada at the World's Fair of 1893. In private life he became 
president of the Consumer's Gas Company and the Ontario Bank. 
His son, Major Churchill Cockburn, an Old Boy, won the Victoria 
Cross in the South African War. 


This chapter consists almost entirely of Old Boys' reminiscences, culled 
from The College Times. There are several exceptions. 

1 UCCA, vol. 3. Some Reminiscences written by Hugh Hornby Langton. 

2 In Return: The Autobiography of Sigmund Samuel, p. 45. 

3 UTA, Senate, Minutes. Sept. 25, 1887. A70-0005. 

4 UTA, The Varsity, vol. 2, no. 14, Jan. 20, 1882. The Varsity, describing 
the gym as a "rheumatic old barn" and the sanitary arrangements 
as "a disgrace to a Central Prison," wondered how the boys could be 
blamed for liking the streets and hotels. 

5 In Return: The Autobiography of Sigmund Samuel, p. 44. 



1 Among those present were Larratt Smith, who had served on the 
Board of Management; Christopher, son of John Beverley Robin- 
son; G. T. Denison of the numerous Denison clan (between 1830 
and 1898, thirty-four Denisons entered ucc); G. M. Evans, the for- 
mer master; and the Reverend A. H. Baldwin, rector of All Saints 

2 The total 1882-83 salary bill for eleven full-time masters, including 
Buchan, was just over $14,000. (The 1829 total had been £2,550 or 
$10,200. The average College salary in 1882 was $1,283; the average 
salary for a male teacher in Ontario cities was about $750.) 

Collegiates then averaged seven teachers each, and pupil-teacher 
ratios were much the same at UCC, collegiate institutes, and high 
schools — about 20 to 1. The collegiate institutes around the prov- 
ince were making clear progress, as was to be expected. In June 
1883 a table of junior-matriculation honours showed Toronto Colle- 
giate Institute taking ten first-class and nineteen second-class hon- 
ours. Upper Canada College took five firsts and eleven seconds. 
Whitby took three firsts and nine seconds. Clearly the College's role 
of chief nursery to the university was being challenged. 

3 Globe, June 10, 1886. 

4 Ibid. 

5 Ibid. The true ownership of ucc's endowment was never settled and 
never will be. The College, the university, and the grammar schools 
were each equally positive it was legally theirs. Blake's fiat state- 
ment was simply the usual university line. 

6 John D. Robarts Research Library, University of Toronto. News- 
paper Hansard, March 12, 1887. 

7 The management committee was chaired by Edward Blake, chan- 
cellor of the university. Other members were William Mulock, the 
vice-chancellor; Mr. Justice C. S. Patterson; Colonel C. S. Gzowski; 
and Larratt Smith. 

8 Telegram, March 23, 1887. 

9 Toronto News, March 24, 1887. 



io Mail and Empire, Jan. 7, 1929. 

1 1 Toronto Daily News, March 25, 1887. 

12 UCC had supplied the university with one chancellor — Edward 
Blake — and four consecutive vice-chancellors: James Patton, Adam 
Crooks, Larratt Smith, and Thomas Moss. 

13 John Beverley Robinson, recent lieutenant-governor; Larratt 
Smith, Toronto lawyer; S. C. Wood, former provincial treasurer; 
W. Barclay McMurrich, Toronto lawyer; John Macdonald. All 
except Wood were Old Boys. 

14 There was some excitement in the neighbourhood. Christ Church, 
Deer Park, foresaw a much larger congregation, and a committee 
was set up to investigate the possibility of additional land. Also the 
prospect of increased traffic caused the Clinton Avenue (Lonsdale 
Road) residents to request a 135-foot extension through to Yonge 
Street, an extension which has never taken place. 

15 Globe, Oct. 25, 1893. 

16 The construction of the Belt Line Railway had been predicated on a 
real-estate development which never materialized. After two years 
of large losses, the passenger service was abandoned. The Upper 
Canada College station, located where the line crossed Avenue 
Road, was burned down by Hallowe'en pranksters ten years later. 

1 7 The trustees had asked Henry Scadding to prepare a sketch for the 
official coat-of-arms which the College then adopted. It is uncertain 
which device Scadding presented. 

18 The non-university pupils were entering a variety of occupations. In 
1889 for example, 6 entered banking, 27 commerce, 7 agriculture, 2 
the civil service, 7 machine shops, and 8 law. This was a fairly typi- 
cal distribution of the era. 

19 These were six senior boys who met with the principal to discuss 
internal College problems and who were supposed to set an example 
to the student body. They were originally the three first-team cap- 
tains of football, hockey, and cricket, the senior officer of the Rifle 
Corps, and the two top students, one boarder (Head of the House) 
and one day boy (Head of the Town). In the mid twenties, some 
years after the house system began, the four senior prefects were 



added. In 1932, The College Times editor became number eleven. In 
1954, owing to some disorganization of the stewards, a head steward 
came into being. The stewards have never been elected by the stu- 
dents, and therefore never have really represented them, but it has 
been good training for seniors to be responsible for others. 

20 In 1886 Toronto male salaries ranged from $750 to $1,200, the Col- 
lege's from $750 to $1,650. In 1891 the average Toronto salary was 
$804, the ucc average $1,168. In 1893 the highest UCC salary was 
$1,500. One spark of brightness in the picture was the establishment 
of a retirement fund for all teachers and officers of the College. On 
salaries up to $1,000, 5 per cent was taken off; up to $1,600, 7V2 per 
cent; up to $2,600, 10 per cent. The money was invested at 6 per 
cent and credited semi-annually. 

21 PAO, RG.2.D.7, Box 3, Dickson to Ross, Nov. 4, 1892. 

22 PAO, RG.2.D.7, Box 3, July 6, 1894. 

23 Ibid., Dickson to Ross, March 22, 1895. 

24 Saturday Night, May 11, 1895. 

25 PAO, RG.2.D.7, Box 3, Letters to Ross. 

26 PAO, RG.2.D.7, Box 1 1, Smith to Ross, June 7, 1895. 

27 PAO, RG.2.D.7, Box 3, Dickson to Ross, Jan. 22, 1896. 

28 Dickson recovered quickly. By 1896 he had founded and was also 
teaching at St. Margaret's College at the corner of Bloor and Spadi- 
na, where his wife was principal. It was a well-known girls' school, 
rivalling Havergal and Bishop Strachan School. He also was one of 
the founders of St. Andrew's College. 

29 William Arthur Deacon, as quoted in Apostle of Empire. 

30 The most vocal and potent Canadian supporters of imperial federa- 
tion were the "four Georges" — Parkin, Denison, Grant of Queen's, 
and Ross. All were closely connected with ucc. Denison attended 
thirty-four meetings on ucc matters in the first half of the year 
alone. One of his correspondents saw ucc as a centre of imperial 
training, half-filled with English students. The displaced Canadians 
would go to Eton or Rugby. 

31 Parkin's first Prize Day, a glittering affair attended by virtually 
everyone of importance in Toronto, was marred by G. T. Denison's 



boorish refusal to invite Goldwin Smith, who had regularly pre- 
sented prizes. The next year, with Smith present, Denison said 
Smith should be behind prison bars. Even the Toronto papers that 
were friendly to UCC denounced Denison. 

32 The trees on the Deer Park site have always been an important part 
of the school's atmosphere. A succession of excellent groundsmen 
has kept them as healthy as possible, pruning, cutting down, and 
planting. In 1966 there were 664 trees on the grounds. The arrival 
of Dutch Elm disease has meant that one by one Parkin's elms have 
been destroyed. Only a few remain. 

33 Clifton College in Bristol did have a successful combined operation, 
and Parkin wrote to an old New Brunswick friend, Dr. M. G. Glaze- 
brook, the headmaster, to ask for an explanation. 

34 PAC, Parkin Papers, Parkin diary, vol. 63, Oct. 1, 1896. 

35 PAO, RG.2.D.7, Box 6, Thorburn to Parkin, July 1899. 

36 PAC, Denison Papers, vols. 9 and 10, Parkin to Denison, Apr. 18, 

37 The papers, with the exception of the Weekly Sun, cheered Parkin to 
the echo, but the Sun asked a pointed question: What was the prin- 
cipal of a public institution doing on a public platform propagan- 
dizing on behalf of a political party? The Sun stirred up memories of 
the Dickson debacle and asked further, "Who can doubt in what 
sentiments a boy in Upper Canada College is trained?" The Weekly 
Sun, Dec. 16, 1897. 

38 In October, Ross became Premier of Ontario; Richard Harcourt 
became Minister of Education. At almost the same time G. T. Deni- 
son replaced the ailing Kingsmill as chairman of the UCC board. 

39 Leacock had left in the summer of 1 899 to pursue a brilliant career 
in economics and literature. He had never been happy teaching at 
his old school, considering himself overworked and underpaid. 

40 G. T. Denison (chairman), Frank Arnoldi, W. T. Boyd, Henry 
Cawthra, W. G. Gooderham, John Henderson, R. K. Hope, W. R. 
Brock, J. W. Flavelle, W. D. Matthews, J. S. Willison, and six ex- 
officio members. The last four named were not Old Boys. As a 
board, these men were trustees of the Crown. 



This chapter consists mostly of Old Boys' reminiscences culled from The 
College Times. There are several exceptions. 

1 UCCA, vol. 3. Some Reminiscences written by Hugh Hornby Langton. 

2 The Boy I Left Behind Me, p. 74. 

3 A. H. Young, head boy of 1882, on the other hand, was very severe 
on the place of UCC. He thought high schools were every bit as good 
from the educational point of view and hated the concept that UCC 
was a "school for gentlemen's sons," a phrase which had done more 
than anything else to embitter people against the College. He urged 
the boys to make their way on their own merits, pooh-poohing the 
idea of "good family" — words which had little meaning in Canada. 

4 The Boy I Left Behind Me, p. 89. 

5 Ibid., p. 92. 

6 Flintoft letters, courtesy of Michael Wills. 

7 Harris's letters are in the UCCA, courtesy of Professor Robin Harris. 

8 S. Leacock, Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town, in the Preface. 

9 Robertson Davies, Stephen Leacock, p. 20. 

10 There is evidence that the discipline was more than irksome. Dick- 
son admitted to Larratt Smith that punishment was too severe and 
new regulations were drawn up. The punishment book had to be 
produced at every meeting of the Board, and all suspensions had to 
be reported to the Board. 


1 Creelman, who was instrumental in obtaining the College's inde- 
pendence, said that most of the $50,000 was donated as a personal 
tribute to Parkin. UCC on its own could not have done so well. 

2 In 1902 money was authorized for plans for a new gym, rink, and 
swimming pool. 

3 UCCA, Scholarship file, Bursar's office. 



4 On one occasion when Churchill was in Toronto he lunched with 
Parkin. A prize was offered by a Miss Plowden for anyone who 
could make Churchill think of anything but himself for five minutes. 
Parkin claimed the prize, having got him absorbed in "national 
questions." PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 63, Jan. 5, 1901. 

5 PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 95, Jan. 23, 1902. 

6 At half-time in the final game, the score was 3-1 for Stratford. UCC 
tied the game and won 7-6 in overtime. Parkin, who could not 
attend through pressure of work, had the porter bring him regular 
reports. After two hours he was worn out. 

7 pac, Parkin Papers, vol. 95, March 12, 1902. 

8 Ibid., vol. 96, June 26, 1902. 

9 Larratt Smith wrote to Parkin in 1903, "... but for your masterful 
administration ... at a very critical period, it [UCC] would never 
have attained that strength and popularity which it enjoys today." 
PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 19, Jan. 15, 1903. 

10 Martland had written to J. J. Kingsmill, "... our more wealthy 
Ontario men have not accustomed themselves to giving." UCCA, 
Box 20, July 1, 1896. 

1 1 PAC, Grant Papers, vol. 9, Grant to Irving Robertson, Dec. 2, 1929. 

12 PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 1 14 (private memo). 

13 Parkin cited Eton, Harrow, and Rugby, where headmasters 
received $25,000 to $30,000, and housemasters could clear between 
$5,000 and $10,000 per annum. Other public schools were much 
worse off. 

14 Grant quotes Parkin as saying, "There is a great danger of getting 
Canadians in as masters . . . they are apt to be so crude." Parkin, 
very much a Canadian himself, felt that boarding-house duties 
could be properly carried out only by those with boarding 
experience — namely Englishmen. Parkin's views on smoking may 
have gone back to his early Baptist upbringing. On one occasion he 
confined the entire boarding-school to the grounds for a week 
because two boys were found guilty of smoking. He wanted smoking 
put down, and intended the whole town to know about it. Quote is 
from PAC, Grant Diary, p. 31, Dec. 25, 1901. 



15 UCCA, vol. 17, Auden's Prize Day Speech, Oct. 14, 1904. 

16 Neither the gates nor the heavy brick pillars which supported them 
survived the 1970s. Inebriated, late-night northbound Avenue Road 
drivers demolished virtually the entire structure over a number of 
years. In 1975 the one remaining post was dismantled and the 
entrance was renovated without the gates. 

17 UTA, Upper Canada College, Board of Governors and Executive 
Committee. Minute Book 1898- 1906. July 9, 1903. A74-0018/010. 


18 The Taffy Shop on Simcoe Street had moved north with the College 
to Lonsdale Road. The new tuck shop was its spiritual successor and 
was formally opened with a grand feed. It was demolished in the 
summer of 1977 because it was falling down. 

19 The College Times, Christmas 1914, p. 3. 

20 PAC, Grant Papers, Brown to Grant, Aug. 26, 191 7. 


This chapter consists of extracts from The College Times, reminiscences of 
Old Boys interviewed by the author, and some other material. 

1 PAC, Grant Papers, West to Grant, Oct. 27, 1901. 

2 Ibid., Idington to Grant, Oct. 18, 1903. 

3 UCCA, Coate to Auden, March 9, 1907. 

4 PAC, Grant Diary, Nov. 24, 1901. 


Unattributed quotations in this chapter are from The College Times or 
have been contributed by Old Boys. 
1 PAC, Grant Papers, Peacock to Grant, March 17, 1918. 



2 Quotes are from Grant's article in The College Times, Easter 191 8, 
pp. 1-4. 

3 One exception was on Armistice Day 191 8. Somerville gave the 
Prep a holiday; Grant did not do the same, and the Upper School 
boys walked out. Grant apologized to the school the next day. 

4 Grant's comical reference for Stephen is in UCCA. 

5 Very few scholarships were founded in the twenties, thirties, and for- 
ties, but activity picked up again in the years following the Second 
World War. By 1979 the College Foundation supported forty-eight 
boys on scholarships and fifty-three on bursaries to a total of over 

6 PAC, Grant Papers, Grant to Willison, Feb. 19, 1920. 

7 In 1916 the enrolment had been 214; in 191 7, 273. By September 
1918 it was 338, including more boarders than at any time since 

8 The north-east cricket field was named Lord's, and the north-west 
field, naturally, Commons. The nomenclature was invented by 
C. G. M. Grier, an Old Boy who had returned to teach at the 

9 Some Old Boys, even board members, were quite irritated at the 
concept of house loyalty, which they feared would supersede loyalty 
to the school. There is no evidence that it ever did. 

10 Sir John Willison, who had been on the board of UCC through three 
administrations, said the only thing he had been ashamed of was the 
salaries paid to the masters. Generally speaking, he felt the scale of 
salaries for teachers was one of the country's greatest scandals. 

1 1 In 1925 the fees were still less than those at Bishop Strachan School 
and much less than at corresponding American schools. 

12 PAC, Grant Papers, Willison to Grant, Sept. 11, 1924. 

13 During this period R. A. Laidlaw joined the board and became 
vice-chairman, a post created for him. He eventually picked up the 
mantle of generous benefactor worn before him by men such as 
H. C. Hammond, W. H. Beatty, and W. G. Gooderham. 

14 Toronto Daily Star, June 26, 1922. 

15 Holmes was at the Ontario Art School for about ten years. In 1930 



he had a most extraordinary death. He gave a speech at the OAS 
which ended, "My dear boys, I offer you my affectionate thanks," 
and sat down. They discovered one or two minutes later that he was 
dead. QUA, Peacock Papers. 

1 6 pac, Grant Papers, vol. 24, Sept 19, 1926. The Curfew Club had 
been started by a young master, Geoffrey Bell. It was a group of sen- 
ior boys who met on Sunday evenings, inviting knowledgeable and 
experienced guests to speak on and discuss social issues and public 

17 Mail and Empire, Sept. 14, 1929. 

18 B. K. Sandwell, hinting at how the next centenary might be better 
conducted, listed several suggestions, among which was the cutting 
down of Oratory. He concluded that the suggestion would not be 
acceptable. All centenary organizers were equally determined to cut 
down Oratory and all had failed: you could no more have a centen- 
ary without Oratory than you could have a bath without water! 

19 Peter Sandiford, a professor of education at the University of Toron- 
to, had told Keppel that McCulley at Pickering and Grant at UCC 
were the two people in Ontario doing creative work in secondary 
education. Sandiford favoured UCC as the larger and better-known 

20 Grant was ecstatic about the work of Mathers and Haldenby, who 
became the official UCC architects at that time. Vincent Massey had 
had a large part in the choice of this firm. 

21 PAC, Grant Papers, vol. 8, Peacock to Grant, Oct. 20, 1932. 

22 Grant admitted in 1932 that a very large number of parents were 
not paying their bills, and their sons were being carried. At the same 
time he was proud that UCC had actually increased its staff without 
lowering salary or wages. The overdue accounts had been a peren- 
nial problem, now exacerbated by the severe economic conditions. 

23 uta, Upper Canada College, Board of Governors, Draft Minutes 
1917-1934, Orr to Board, May 25, 1933. A74-0018/003. 

24 PAC, Grant Papers, Grant to W. H. Fyfe, Nov. 23, 1918. 

25 Ibid., Grant to H. R. Beeton, May 24, 193 1. 



This chapter consists entirely of Old Boys' reminiscences and extracts 
from The College Times or Old Times. 


1 The selection committee was headed by Vincent Massey, who was 
strongly influenced by Maude Grant. MacDermot was said to be 
"her" appointment. PAC, Grant papers, vol. 44, J. M. Macdonnell 
to Maude Grant, Oct. 20, 1935. 

2 The day he was appointed, MacDermot met Mackenzie King, who 
said that if the appointment gave MacDermot the pleasure it gave 
him, "I shall have reason to feel that the occasion will be long 
remembered." BUA, MacDermot Diary, April 18, 1935. 

3 bua, MacDermot Diary, Apr. 5, 1935. 

4 The pupil was George Grant, son of the late principal, now a profes- 
sor at McMaster University. By 1978, over fifty-thousand exchange 
visits had been arranged. Biggar received the Coronation Medal in 
1952 and the Order of Canada in 1968. 

5 The five house-head prefects responded to MacDermot's initiative 
by making a supplementary presentation which delighted him — a 
trophy for the house that made the greatest contribution to school 
life. Competition for the head prefects' trophy was still taking place 
in 1979. 

6 BUA, MacDermot Diary, Aug. 5, 1936. 

7 Arnold once told MacDermot's son Gait, who wrote the music for 
Hair, that he would never make a successful musician! 

8 Some fine non-academic appointments were made in MacDermot's 
era: Dr. W. A. McTavish replaced Dr. McKenzie as College physi- 
cian in 1938. Joining him was Miss Barbara Barrow, who became 
College nurse, beloved by hundreds of students. Tom Aikman was 
head groundsman from 1936 to 1967, when he died on the job. Ken- 



neth Chambers looked after the maintenance department from 
1940 to 1974. All these gave service above and beyond the call of 
9 The average 1937 salary was lower than it had been ten years 
before. Alan Stephen felt that a pay increase of approximately S800 
a year for five years was needed to catch up with the outside system. 

10 Upper Canada College at War. UCCA, Box 3. 

11 All quotes are from BUA, MacDermot Diaries, vol. 1. Jan. 26, 
1934-Sept 1, 1937, and vol. 2, Apr. 5, 1938-Mar. 12, 1940. 

12 After the war, MacDermot became High Commissioner to South 
Africa and then Australia; later he was Ambassador to Greece and 
to Israel. As head of personnel at the Department of External 
Affairs he maintained high standards and was responsible for much 
of the growth in that department. He became a director of the CBC. 
When he died he was chairman of political science at Bishop's Uni- 
versity in Lennoxville. 

13 PAC, Grant Papers, Massey to Macdonnell, June 1, 1943. 

14 For some years he worked for the Department of Education and 
then taught mathematics at Loretto Abbey. 


This chapter consists of interviews with Old Boys and extracts from The 

College Times. 
1 In the summer of 1951 the members of the Little Theatre took 
Thornton Wilder 's Our Town to Great Britain, where they received 
enthusiastic reviews. The London Daily Telegraph wrote, "... Upper 
Canada College could compete in our highest class." 



1 A Family Writ Large, p. 24. 

2 A typical boarder enrolment of the fifties showed 23 per cent from 
Toronto, 42 per cent from the rest of Ontario, 34 per cent from out- 
side Ontario. 

3 When the main building was replaced in i960, the funds collected 
by this Foundation Fund were drained. A new foundation was 
incorporated in January 1962. 

4 Prince Philip had consented to become the College Visitor in 1955. 
The office had fallen into disuse since the abdication of Edward vm. 

5 UCCA, UCC Governors' Correspondence 1958-59. D. S. Beatty to 
Napier, March 11, 1959. 

6 The optimum school size was assumed to be about 750. Five years 
later the enrolment was 800, and fifteen years later, over 900. 


This chapter consists of College Times extracts and letters from Old Boys 
to the author. 


1 The College Times, 1967, p. 4. 

2 In fact, though the phrase is often used in this context, there is no 
extra curriculum: everything that happens between a student's 
arrival at and departure from school is curriculum. For many boys 
the extras hold more meaning than the core does. 




1 J. R. Robertson, as quoted in The Paper Tyrant, p. 16. 

2 UTA, The Varsity, vol. 2, no. 22, March 17, 1882. 

3 Globe, March 23, 1887. 

4 Mail and Empire, March 21,1 936, cited in The College Times, Easter 
1936, p. 14- 

All other quotes are from The College Times. 


i Dickson and Adam, p. 263. 

2 Ibid. 

3 Cited in Stanley Fillmore, The Pleasure of the Game, pp. 67-69. 

All other quotes are from The College Times. 


1 Dickson and Adam, p. 105. 

2 Ibid., p. 109. 

3 UTA, Board of Governors, Minute Book, June 1 898-December 
1906. A70-0024/010. 

4 UCCA, Box 21. 

5 Ibid., Letter to Grant. 

6 Ibid. 

7 Ibid., Court of inquiry. 

Other quotes are from The College Times, which was the chief source 
of information for this chapter. 




The author is grateful to J. A. Hearn, assistant headmaster of the Pre- 
paratory School, for reading this chapter and making invaluable contri- 
butions to it. 
i Unluckily for the Prep, when Parkin was appointed to the Rhodes 

Trust, Alice had to follow him. She left in November for England. 

Some years later she married Vincent Massey and so returned for 

many years to the College community. 

2 UCCA, Box 8, Parkin to Denison, June 24, 1901. 

3 UCCA, Box 14, Parkin to Denison, Sept. 4, 1901. 

4 PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 94, Nov. 15, 190 1. 

5 PAC, Grant Papers, vol. 27, Dec. 6, 1901. 

6 PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 95, Apr. 12, 1902. 

7 QUA, Peacock Papers. 

8 PAC, Parkin Papers, vol. 96, May 4, 1902. 

9 In 1902 Parkin also left UCC to take up the Rhodes Trust. Had 
Rhodes not died so young, and had Parkin not lost faith in Peacock, 
the Parkin-Peacock-Grant combination would probably have had 
no parallel in Canadian school history for sheer ability, imagina- 
tion, and influence. 

10 J. S. H. Guest in Old Times, July 1952, p. 15. 

1 1 Against the other Little Big Four schools, it played St. Andrew's 
(then in Rosedale), in football, hockey, and cricket in 1904, and 
football against Ridley in 1910. (Just to complete the record, its first 
cricket game against Ridley was in 19 13, and its first hockey game 
in 1935. Against TCS — cricket 1915, football 1916, hockey 1927.) 

12 UTA, Board of Governors, Minutes, Dec. 10, 191 7. A70-0024/003. 

13 By 1928 the Prep had 223 day boys and 58 boarders, a total not 
reached again for thirty years. The Depression hit the independent 
schools hard, and when Somerville left in 1934 numbers had slipped 
back to 189, only 20 of whom were boarders. They crept back to 
over 200 in 1936 and have never been below that since. 

14 UCCA, Principal's Office, Folder "A.G.A.S.," Feb. 1934. 

15 PAC, Grant Papers, vol. 8, April 10, 1934. 



1 6 Ibid., May 14, 1934. 

17 The year was really a giant party. Robertson Davies wrote the 
Masque of Aesop especially for a cast of young boys; there was a large 
dinner for the class of 1903-04 with fireworks after; Stephen even 
named his dog "Billie." 


The author is grateful to B. M. Litteljohn for his critical and salutary 
observations on and general contributions to this chapter. 

1 Perhaps it was a coincidence that in September of that year an offer 
of $650,000 was made for the 52.5-acre site in Deer Park. By Janu- 
ary 19 1 3 came another offer, this time for $750,000. Both were 

2 By 19 1 5 the College was investigating the pollution poured into the 
Credit by the Provincial Paper Mills in Georgetown. It sought 
advice from the University of Toronto and various scientists. 

3 Auden's Prize Day Speech is in The College Times, Christmas 19 13. 

4 The day got off to a bad start when, near Malton, the train ran over 
a man, cutting off his right foot and putting out his right eye. A. L. 
Cochrane, the College's famed P.E. instructor, applied tourniquets. 
One of the boys, Seth Pepler, helped by carrying the man's 
shoe — and foot — in his hand through the train. Despite their efforts, 
the man later died. 

5 Controller (later Mayor) Tommy Church advocated the city buy 
the College property for a park with educational facilities, a library, 
a fire hall, and a police station, but the price severely discouraged 
this imaginative suggestion. Two alternatives for vehicular traffic 
were brought forward: one was for a diagonal street joining the cor- 
ner of Avenue Road and Lonsdale with Kilbarry and Old Forest 
Hill; the other was an Avenue Road extension north, straight 
through the grounds. Both schemes, of course, were killed. 

6 PAC, Grant Papers, vol. 33, Nov. 5, 191 7. 



7 uta, Upper Canada College, Board of Governors and Executive 
Committee Minute Book. Dec. 10, igi 7. A74-0018/01 1. 

8 Ibid., September n, 19 19. A74-00 18/004. 

9 Curiously, Stephen's memo never mentioned Norval. He must have 
been considering another property closer to Toronto. It was soon 
evident that Norval could supply the need. 

10 ucca, Memorandum re UCC Norval Property, Dec. 8, 1938. 

1 1 A 1978 Study by the Halton Region said that Upper Canada Col- 
lege "has shown exemplary management to maintain and upgrade 
this natural area." Halton Region Environmentally Sensitive Area Study, 
1978, p. 241. 


pp. 387 and 389. The quotations are from recent articles by Dr. John 
Rae, the Head Master of Westminster School, which appeared over a 
period of months in The Times Educational Supplement, London, England, 
and are used by permission of the author and of the Editor of The Times 

Educational Supplement. 



Aikman, Tom, 448 
Aird,John Black, 212-13, 227 
Andrew, Geoffrey, 207, 224 
Anglican Church, 16; 

influence of, 2, 3, 4, 5, 54-5, 
383, 384, 42 7. 434; and 
ucc, 12, 14, 19-20, 26, 33, 
44,55,62,65, 126, 127, 
Arnoldi, Frank, 208, 353, 371, 

Arnoldi, King, 269-70 
Arthur, George, 41, 45, 46 
Auden, Henry W. "Hank", 
168-9, !7°> I 7 I > J 7 2 , *73, 
174-5, 176, 178, i79> 181, 
182, 185, 186, 189, 190, 
200, 205, 230, 254, 325, 
Auden, Mark F., 189-90 

Baird,J. M., 177-8 
Baldwin, Donald, 380 
Baldwin, Lawrence, 116, 121 
Baldwin, Robert, 20, 22, 50, 

Baldwin University Act 

(1849), 53, 54. 57 
Barber, George Anthony, 1 1 , 

12, 14,42-3,315-16,432 
Barrett, Dr. Michael, 49-50, 

56, 64, 70, 73, 77, 85-6, 86, 

88, 437 
Barron, Frederick W., 24, 40, 


83, 175, 272,315-16,432-3, 

435, 436 

Barrow, Miss, 240, 259, 448 

Bassett, Dr. W. G., 226, 234, 
255, 306 

Beatty, D. S., 248 

Beatty, W. H., 124, 131, 354, 

Biggar, J. H., 206, 224, 240, 
257, 306, 448 

Birdsall, Richard, 75-6 

Biriukova, Miss Yulia, 231 

Bishop Strachan School, 212, 

Blake, Edward, 109-10, III, 

Blake, W. H., 54, 55, 59, 63 

Blunt, H. P., 206, 219, 386 

Board for the General 
Superintendence of 
Education (Upper 
Canada), 4, 9, 10, 1 1-12, 
21, 23 

Board of Governors (ucc), 
164, 166, 167, 170, 173, 
! 74, ! 75, I 86, 196, 201, 
202, 204, 208, 212, 223, 
228, 229, 230-4 passim, 242, 
246, 247, 248, 255, 256, 
260, 262, 263, 265, 279, 
passim, 442, 443, 446 

Board of Management (ucc), 

81-2. See also Committee of 

Board of Trustees (ucc), 

122-3, 124, 125, 126, 127, 

128, 131 
Board of Visitation (ucc), 55, 

Boeckh, J. S., 297 
Boeckh, John, 349 
Bonnycastle, Humphrey, 212, 

Boulton, Rev. William, 1 1, 

12, 13, 16,24,27,40,315, 

Bowes, Joseph, 97, 100 
Boyd, W. T., 124, 167, 353, 

Bradbum, C. H, 328-9 
Bremner, M. H. C. "Big 

Mike", 206 
Brennan, Frank, 231, 258 
Brock, Henry, 109, 1 18, 152 
Brock, W. R., 354, 442 
Brown, James, 63, 64, 65, 70, 

84, 86, 87, 107, 109, 137, 

386, 434, 435 
Buchan, John Milne, 106-7, 

108, 109, 140, 168, 270, 

275, 439 
Buxton, H. M., 326 

Cadet Battalion, 209, 215, 
225-6, 229, 238, 239, 
311, 331-50; beginnings, 
331-2; commanders and 



instructors, 172, 205, 217, 
340, 34i. 342, 347; decline 
of, 261, 347-50; enrolment, 
333. 334, 335, 336, 338, 
340, 341, 346; and First 
and Second World Wars, 
340, 341-2, 350; purposes, 
342-3, 346, 348, 349; 
uniforms and equipment, 
333, 334, 335, 336, 337-8, 

Cambridge University 
(England), 12, 427 

Cape, Mr., 255, 258, 259 

Carpenter, Frederick N. 
"S.M.", 180, 185, 205, 215, 

Cawthra, Henry, 124, 131, 

Chambers, Kenneth, 448-9 

Chandler, Charles M., 176-7, 
1 80- 1 

Checkley, Francis, 87 

Clarkson, G. P., 248 

Classey, Owen, 199, 205, 215, 
220, 386 

Cochrane, Arthur L., 130, 
131, 155, 164, 169, 171, 
194, 198-9,211,214,325-6, 

Cockburn, George R. R., 67, 
84-7, 88-9, 90, 96, 97-8, 
101, 105, 106, 137, 272, 

Colborne, Sir John, 16, 25, 27, 
background, 6; and 
educational system, 7, 8-9; 
and ucc, 8-13, 15, 16-17, 
118, 126, 264, 286, 307, 
383, 384, 428, 429 

College Council. See 
University of Toronto 

College Times, The, 103, 125, 

I40, 200, 210, 224, 237, 


beginnings, 66, 76, 269-70, 
271; editors, 253, 269, 271, 
272, 274, 275, 277-8, 279, 
280, 282, 283, 286, 295, 
320-1, 345; emphasis in, 
279-80, 281, 282, 285, 290, 
328; and In Between Times, 
207, 300; quotes from, 78-9, 
102-3, 103-4, 105, 142, 157, 
158, 178,213,216,235-7, 
supervision, 279-80, 364 

collegiate institutes, 91, 439. 
See also high schools 

ColleyJ. N. B. "Jim", 359, 

Collinson, John H., 121 

Commission of Inquiry into 
the Affairs of King's 
College University and 
Upper Canada College, 

Committee of Management, 

333. See also Board of 

Common School Acts: (1816), 

4; (1850), 62 
common schools, 4, 13, 23, 51, 

Connon, C. W., 67, 104, 435 
Connor, Ralph. See Gordon, 

Rev. W. Charles 
Copeland, F. A., 290 
Cory, R. Y., 186-7 
Coulton, J. L., 231, 238, 261 
Coupland, Charlie, 378 
Cox, W., 206 
Crake, J. H. "Jimmy", 167, 

168, 169, 178, 182-3, !89, 

194, 386 
Crean, J. G., 217 
Creelman, A. R., 124, 133, 

Crooks, Adam, 91, 92, 93, 

94-5, 96, 436, 440 
Crowther, Keith, 207 


Crowther, Lome, 173 
Cruickshank. Charlotte, 368 
Cunliffe, G. S., 285-6 
Curfew Club, 220, 239, 240, 


Dade, Rev. Charles, 12, 16, 

Davidson, E. M. "Ted", 231, 

256, 257 
Davidson, Rev. John, 207 
Davies, Robertson, 296, 453 
Dawson, R. M., 307 
De la Have, J. du P., 1 1, 12, 

14, 16,27,37,43,63,79, 

Delbos, Charlie, 188-9 
De Lury, Alfred, 1 15 
deMarbois,J. M. B. P. 

"Jock", 205, 216, 224, 227, 

Denison, George T., II, 58, 59, 

60, 61 
Denison, George T., m, ill, 

124, 125, 129, 132, 167, 

Department of Education 
(Ontario), 94, 114, 120, 
121, 125, 126, 133, 140 
Depression, 208, 293, 363, 452 
Dickson, George, 109, 114, 
1 15, 117, 120, 121, 122, 
123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 
129, 140, 147, 150, 157, 
168, 175, 247,279-80,333, 
Dixon, F. E., 39, 72, 78 
Dodd, John, 37, 76, 77 
Drewry, Mr., 12, 16, 27, 37 

Easterbrook, Ian, 254-9 
Edgar, Pelham, 121, 295 
Edinburgh, Duke of. See 

Philip, Prince 
educational system (Upper 
Canada and Ontario), 1-5, 
10, 12, 15, 51, 67, 91, 95, 
106, 108, 109, no, III, 
1 13, 168, 191, 192, 261, 


331, 366; and Colbome, 7, 
8-9; influence of Anglican 
Church on, 2,3; influence 
of Simcoe on, 1-2, 7; and 
John Strachan, 4, 7; and 
Egerton Ryerson, 51, 62-3; 
and ucc, 113, 114, 133-4 
Elgin, Lord, 51, 52, 53, 78 
Elliott, H. Earl "Bill", 212, 
England. See Great Britain 
Eton (school), 15, 3 17, 337, 

Evans, George Mountain, 65, 
66, 439 

Family Compact, 3, 4, 7, 14, 

34, 43, 44, 384 
First World War, 166, 172-3, 

188, 216, 285, 340, 342, 

374, 375, 382 
Flavelle, Sir Joseph W., 168, 

354, 442 
Flintoft, J. G., 142 
Foote, Samuel, 211,361, 364, 

367, 378, 386 
Fotheringham, John, 115, 

146, 147 
Fraser, William H., 87, 109 
Fiirrer, Edward, 87, 136, 320 

Gallimore, Wilfrid, 231, 256, 

Galloway, Kenneth, 231 
Gait, George, 367, 386 
Gelber, Lionel M., 291-3 
Gibson, R. B., 283 
Gibson, T. Graeme, 217, 221 
Gibson, Timothy "Gibby", 

212, 213, 362, 364, 367, 386 
Gilbert and Sullivan 

operettas, 206, 207, 237, 

239, 240 
Gilham, Jack, 258, 259 
Glazebrook, George, 178, 364 
Glazebrook, Dr. M. G., 356, 

Globe, The (Toronto), 65, 85, 

89, III, 1 18, 126, 131, 270, 

Globe and Mail, The (Toronto), 

Goderich, Lord, 17, 23, 429 
Godley, John Robert, 44-5 
Goodall, Reginald, 207 
Gooderham, W. G., 124, 172, 

173, 196, 198,208,354, 


442, 446 
Goodwin, Colonel, 72, 75, 331 
Gordon, D. G., 107 
Gordon, Rev. W. Charles 

(Ralph Connor), 115, 281 
Grafton, Garth, 275 
Graham, John, 21 1, 212, 213, 

215, 216 
Graham, W. C, 310 
grammar schools, 2-3, 4, 5, 10, 

H, 15, 17,23,29,51,62-3, 

67,89,90,91,96, 106,427; 

and Colborne, 7, 8, 13, 26; 

and land grants, 4-5, 23, 26, 

Grant, George, 299, 448 
Grant, George Munro, 129, 

158, 191,441 

Grant, Gerald, 231 

Grant, Maude, 101, 191, 193, 
360, 448 

Grant, William Lawson 
"Choppy", 132, 155, 158, 
164, 165, 166, 167, 173-4, 
175, 176, 181, 182-3, 183-5, 
190, 191-4, 195, 196-8, 199, 
200, 201, 203, 204-5, 206, 
207-9, 210, 212, 215, 216, 
217, 218, 220, 221, 222, 
224, 225, 226, 230, 240, 
343, 344, 344-5, 355, 356, 
365, 374, 375-6, 386, 446, 
447, 452 

Grant House, 198, 246, 255, 

Great Britain, 2, 80-1, 94, 
103, 132, 138, 228, 230, 

influence on education, 1, 
2,3,4, 7,8,9, 12, 13,20, 
26, 41, 43, 84, 88, 128, 130, 
131, 133, 167, 168, 169, 
195, 207, 223, 243, 281, 

304, 337, 373, 383, 385, 

Greene, Vincent, 187-9 
Grier, C. G. M., 179-80, 207, 

Guest, J. S. H. "Gimper", 

172, 176, 177, 184,357-9, 

360, 364 

H. H. Suydam Realty 

Company, 172, 374 
Ham, Albert, 132 
Harcourt, Richard, 133, 441 
Harris, G. H. Ronald, 143-54 
Harris, Rev. Joseph H., 12, 


49, 64, 65, 242, 428, 430 
Harris, S. Alan "Sam", 212, 

Harston, Len, 272-3 
Hayhurst, George, 251 
Head, Sir Edmund, 66 
Head, Sir Francis Bond, 35, 

Heap, D.J. M., 239-40 
Henderson, Elmes, 38-9, 72 
Henderson, John, 167,353, 

Hendrie, William, 324 
high schools (Ontario), 91, 94, 

95, 106, 107, 108, 113, 114, 

115, 124, 169, 170-1, 171-2, 

191, 198, 199,232,439,443 
Hollingshead, F. N., 2 1 1 , 2 1 2, 

Holmes, Robert, 121, 130, 

169, 194, 198, 206, 386, 

Home District Grammar 

School (York). See Royal 

Grammar School (York) 
House of Assembly (Upper 

Canada), 3, 7, 8, 15, 16, 21, 



23, 25, 36, 45, 45-6, 89, 90, 
93,95, 112, 113,427,428 

Howard, F. H., 210-1 1, 215, 

Howard, John C, 37-8, 63, 

Hull, Mr., 130, 155 

Ignatieff, Nicholas, 206, 220, 
224, 227, 235-7, 308-9, 386 
Ingram, W. H., 155-6 

Jackson, William S. "Stony", 
87, 109, 120,121, 129, 130, 
132, 135-7, '47, 149, 155, 
169, 174, 178-81,321,323, 
330, 386 

Jackson's House, 195, 364 

Jarvis, E. S., 231 

Jarvis, George Murray, 352 

Jeanneret, F. C. A., 172, 326 

Johnson, George W., 121,130, 
155, 169, 185 

Johnson, Patrick T., 260, 261, 
262, 263, 264 

Jones, Beverley, 83 

Jones, C. W., 212 

Jones, Rev. John Collier, 8, 9, 

Jones, (Justice) Jonas, 43, 82 

Kay, Harry, 206, 224 
Kent, Rev. John, 31, 32, 50, 

Kerr, F. W., 272-3 
Kerr, William, 132 
Ketchum, Philip, 242, 362 
Kettle, H. G. "Rik", 206, 231 
Keys, David A., 283 
Killip, Arthur, 205-6, 245, 

246, 258, 312, 362, 386 
King's College, University of, 

427; becomes University of 
Toronto, 50, 54; and 
Colborne, 7, 8, 11, 17, 20; 
endowments, 4-5, 8, 17, 20, 
21, 25, 26, 52, 54; financial 
inquiry into, 52, 53; 
founding of, 4, 5; 

suspension of, 7, 8, 10, 45; 

and UCC, 8, 10, 16, 17, 20, 


53,54,57, "2, U4,433, 

King's College Council, 17, 


52, 58, 74, 82 
Kingsford, R. E., 112, 124 
KingsmillJ.J., 124, 125, 131. 

336, 373, 442 
Kirkpatrick, Guy, 143, 148 
Knights, J. J., 306 

Laidlaw, R. A., 202, 203, 208, 


Laidlaw, Walter, 202 

land grants, 20, 22; for 

grammar schools, 2, 4-5, 9, 
25, 26, 428-9; for King's 
College, 4, 8, 26; for ucc, 9, 
17, 19, 20, 22, 26, 88, 89-90, 

Langton, Hugh, 97, 100, 103, 

Law, Ralph M. "Pop", 226, 

238, 257, 306, 386 
Leacock, Stephen, 1 15, 130, 

137-41, 156-7,275-7,386, 

League of Nations Society, 

209, 220, 222, 298-9 
Legislative Assembly (Upper 

Canada), 37, 93 
Legislative Council (Upper 

Canada), 7-8, 16, 37, 427, 

Lindsey, G. G. S., 315 
Linn, John, 231, 259 
Literary and Debating 

Society (ucc), 78, 104, 

141-2, 157, 186,253,273, 

275, 388 
Litteljohn, B. M., 380 
Little, C. H. "Herbie", 207, 

214, 216, 217, 227 
Little Big Four schools, 243, 

Little Theatre, 231, 237, 239, 

240, 257,381,449 


McAree, J. V., 300 
McCaul, Rev. John, 43-4, 46, 


McCourt, E. A., 226 
McCubbin, Dr. J. W., 226 
McCulloch, E. A., 304 
MacDermot, Terence W. L., 

206, 218, 222-7, 228-30, 


448, 449 
Macdonald, A. A. "Prant", 
no, 120, 121, 130, 155, 

330, 386 
MacDonald, Jay D., 231, 240 
Macdonald, John, no, m, 

Macdonald, Sir John A., 67, 

Macdonnell, G. F., 130, 277 
Macdonnell, Norman, 181-2 
McHugh, Marshall W. 

"Billy", 170, 171, 178, 182, 

188, 189, 194, 206, 215, 386 
Maclnnes, Malcolm, 368 
Macintosh, Maitland, 247, 

McKay, A. C, 115 
Mackenzie, Dr. A. J., 163, 

437, 448 
Mackenzie, C. Gordon, 1 72 
McKenzie, Lome M., 206, 

228, 230, 231, 232, 233-4, 

240, 241, 242, 243, 386 
Mackenzie, William Lyon, 


428, 429 
Mackie, S. G., 305 
Macklem, T. C. S., 140, 274, 

Maclaren, J. J., 124 
Maclean, G. S., 296 
McLellan, Dr.J. A.,87, 106 
McMaster, W. J., 124 
MacMillan, Sir Ernest. 207, 

McMurrich, W. Barclay, 123, 

124, 440 


McQuistan, Agnes "Nurse", 

362, 368 
McTavish, Dr. W. A., 437, 

Maitland, Peregrine, 3, 4, 5, 6 
Mallett. F. J., 172, 194, 305-6 
Marling, S. A., 7, 106 
Marling. "Spike", 188 
Martin, Mrs. Evelyn, 381 
Martland, John "Gentle", 86, 

88,96,98-101, 106, 108, 

109, 115, 120, 123, 126, 

127, 129, 135, 137, 145, 

146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 

151. I53> '54. 163-4,317, 

330, 386 
Martland's House, 195, 219 
Maskell, Donald, 379 
Massey, Alice S., 246, 355, 

357. 358, 360, 364, 452 
Massey, Vincent, 174, 202, 

204, 226, 230, 242, 246, 

248, 360, 364, 447, 448, 452 
Massey Foundation, 202, 203, 

Mathews, Rev. Charles, 12, 

16, 24, 41, 42, 46, 48, 49, 

58, 64, 386, 432 
Mathews, George, 165 
Matthews, Bruce, 242, 247 
Matthews, W. D., 354, 371, 

Maynard, Rev. George, 37, 


63. 73, 78, 82,83,272, 

Mazzoleni, Ettore, 207, 218, 

219, 220, 306, 386 
Meredith, E. A., 48, 432 
Merritt, Thomas R., 34, 35 
Merritt, W. Hamilton, 34-5 
Methodist Church, 3, 19-20, 

Millar, Blake, 379-80 
Mills, Charles F. "Doggie", 

132, 155, 169, 194.215. 

226, 386 
Milsom, Mrs. Kay, 366, 368 
Model Grammar School 

(Toronto), 67, 79, 84, 85, 

90, 105,325 
Monthly Times, The. See College 

'Times, The 
Morphy, Arnold, 125 
Morris, Edmund, 74-5 
Morse, Eric, 362 
Moss, George F., 294-5 
Moss, Thomas, 1 1 1 , 440 
Mowat, Sir Oliver, 126, 128 
Mowbray, William, 167, 168, 

169, 181-2, 194, 215, 222, 

Mulock, Sir William, 87, 1 1 2, 


Murray, Sir George, 10, 11, 

Neal, Christopher, 349-50 
Neilson, W.A., 120, 157 
Newman, Peter C, 237-9, 240 
News, The (Toronto), 11, 112, 


Norval, 246, 309, 362, 371-82, 
454; buildings, 367, 378, 
379-80; and the Prep, 
proposed move to, 172, 174, 
196-7, 200, 202, 371-2, 
373-6, 452; purchase of, 
172, 371-3; and recreation, 
378-9, 380, 381; and 
reforestation, 377-8, 379, 
380, 365, 454 

Norval House, 367, 378-9, 379 

Old Blue School. See Royal 

Grammar School (York) 
Old Boys' Association (ucc), 

118, 124, 126, 166, 171, 

172, 237, 262, 265, 280, 

Old Times, 179-80, 301 
Ontario, 1, 2, 91, 133-4, 167, 

168, 191,352 
Ormsby, G. Y., 207, 244, 246, 

Orr, H. E. "Willy", 194, 

203-4, 257, 305, 386 

Osier, Judge Featherston, 

151. '5-' 

Ouchterlony, David, 231 

Owen, Glyn, 380 

Owen, Ivon, 301 

Oxford University (England), 
12, 15,88, 128, 158, 165, 
166, 191,317,364,427 

Padfield, Rev.J. W., 12, 14, 


Pardee, T. B., 1 1 1 

Parker, Gordon, 183, 184 

Parkin, Alice S. See Massey, 
Alice S. 

Parkin, Sir George Robert, 
128-9, 130, 131. '32, 133, 
134, 135. 137, 156, 158, 
163, 164-7, '68, 170, 175, 
183, 184-5, 190, 191, J 98, 
353-7, 358, 359, 360, 370, 
444, 452 

Parkin, Maude. See Grant, 

Parkin Building, 361. 367, 


Parlee, Medley K., 206 

Paterson, John A., 87 

Peacock, Edward R. (later Sir 
Edward), 130, 1 55-6, 165, 
167, 176, 181, 185, 191, 
198, 199,203,242,326, 
335, 336, 354, 355-7, 358, 
359, 36o, 364, 386, 452 

Peacock Building, 248, 355, 

Pepler, Seth, 342, 453 
Peppiatt, Douglas, 252-3 
Philip, Prince, Duke of 

Edinburgh, 233, 248, 450 
Phillips, Rev. Thomas, 12, 14, 

Playfair, A. W., 132, 165, 353 
Potter. C. G.. 170, 194 
Preparatory School ( l 

169, 176-8, 195, 200, 

21 I-I3, 219, 225. 2]2, 233, 

243, 244, 245, 246, 248, 



250, 251-2, 255, 281-2, 302, 
446, 452; beginnings, 14, 

163, 165,352-3,354-5; 
boarding, 176-8, 195, 
378-9; buildings and 
grounds, 163, 169, 198, 233, 
244, 353-5, 357-8, 359, 
curriculum, 261, 353, 362, 
363, 365, 369; enrolment, 
14, 165,264,352,358,359, 
376, 452; extra-curricular 
activities, 359, 365-6, 
369-70; masters and staff, 
176-7, 193, 198, 206, 210, 

211, 212, 213, 232, 243, 

248, 352-3, 355-7, 358, 
359-60, 361-5, 367-8, 368-9, 
369, 370, 452; and Norval, 
Prettie, Henry, 269-70 
private schools, 63, 108 
public school system, 2. See 
also common schools, 
grammar schools 

Queen's Own Rifles, 144, 227, 
335, 336, 342, 346 

Rendall, P. S., 207 
Resident School House. See 

Upper Canada College, 

Reynolds, Eric, 207 
Richardson, Arthur M., 377 
Richardson, R. D., 103-4 
Ridley College, 229, 322, 327, 

Ridout, Godfrey, 218-20 
Ridpath, John, 253 
Rifle Company. See Cadet 

Rilley,John, 196 
Ripley, William, 48, 51, 53, 

Roberts, Harold A., 243, 257 

Robertson, G. H., 296-7 

Robertson, John Ross, 30, 31, 
66, 72, 76, 92, 117, 269; 
and College Times, 66, 76, 
269-70, 271, 272; and 
Landmarks of Toronto, 38, 269 

Robinson, Sir John Beverley 
(Chief Justice), 4, 34, 47 

Robinson, John Beverley 
(Lieutenant-Governor), 14, 

32,33,59,94, no, 114, 

124, 146,436,440 
Robinson, Peter, 4, 14, 38 
Rolph, E. R., 372 
Romeyn, J. A., 296 
Roseveare, R. V. H., 207 
Ross, George W. (later Sir 

George), 108-9, H2-14, 

121, 123, 124, 126, 127, 

131, 164, 441, 442 
Ross, W.G., 312 
Royal Grammar School 

(York), 2-3, 3-4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 

11, 12, 14, 21, 1 14, 352, 

427, 429 
Ruffell, Walter, 367 
Ryder, Sandra, 262 
Ryerson, Charles, 26, 85 
Ryerson, Egerton, 63, 84-5, 
107; as Superintendent of 
Education, 51, 62-3, 67, 90, 
91; and Upper Canada 
Academy, 19-20, 25, 26; 
and Upper Canada 
College, 19-20, 67, 85, 90 

Sadleir, Richard H., 262-3, 

265, 350 
St. Andrew's College, 172, 

Sait, E. M., 320-1 
Samuel, Sigmund, 98, 104-5 
Sandwell, B. K., 157,278, 

325, 345-6, 447 
Sanson, W. M., 212 
Scadding, Henry, 14, 18-19, 

42, 46, 60, 64, 65, 69, 72, 




Schaffter, H.John P., 187, 

Scott, Dr. A. Y., 107, 1 14, 137 
Scott, K. D., 207 
Seaton's House, 195, 226, 255 
Second World War, 205, 

227-8, 229, 230, 233, 235-8, 


Sharp, Norman, 226, 257, 

306, 386 
Shearer, I. K., 226, 306 
Sherwood, Edward, 82, 352 
Shipp, Douglas, 252 
Simcoe, John Graves, 1-2, 4, 7 
Simmons, George, 183-4, 196 
Small, John T., 128 
Smith, Eden, 353, 354, 355 
Smith, G. Winder, 207 
Smith, Goldwin, 94, 125, 

126-7, 163, 165, 198, 

Smith, Larratt W., 123, 436, 

439, 440, 443, 444 

Somerville, J. L. "The Duke". 
132, 155, 164, 167, 169, 
176, 188, 193, 210, 211, 
212, 360, 361, 362-3, 364, 
367, 386, 446, 452 

Southam, William, 194 

Sowby, Rev. C. W., 226, 242, 
243, 245-6, 249, 253, 255, 
256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 
264, 326 

Sparling, George Belton 
"Guts", 87, 109, 114, 115, 
118, 129, 130, 137, 165, 
169, 358, 386 

Spooner, C. R., 21 1 

sports, 30, 63, 1 00- 1, 113, 120, 
121, 135, 136, 142, 155, 
158, 171, 199,205,208, 
211, 212-13, 217, 227, 229, 
252, 254, 262, 264, 
328-30, 365, 369-70, 388-9; 
baseball, 116, 142, 275, 
basketball, 172, 326, 327-8, 
329; boxing, 180, 199, 326, 


359; cricket, 100-1, 1 16, 
120, 142, 154, 178, 193, 
194, 206, 272, 273, 274, 
324-5, 326, 327, 328, 329, 

359, 388, 452; football, 1 16, 
120, 155, 178, 194-5,269, 
327,329. 452; golf, 326-7; 
hockey, 155, 164, 178, 226, 
329. 359>366, 452; 
intramural teams, 195, 295, 
3 J 9, 320, 327, 329; rowing, 

264, 325, 329; rugby, J 36, 
soccer, 136, 178, 320, 323, 
328, 329, 366; swimming, 

155, 158, 171, 199, 211, 
325-6, 327-8, 329; tennis 
and squash, 116, 136, 157, 
203, 206, 262, 320, 324, 
326, 328, 329, 359, 366; 
track and field, 120, 136, 
155, 320, 323-4, 329, 359 
Spragge, George, 362 
Spreckley, A. E., 207 
Stanton, Robert, 10, 352 
Stayner, Thomas A. and 

Larry, 59, 60, 61 
Stennett, Rev. Walter, 49, 51, 
64-5, 66, 67, 68-9, 86, 270, 
Stephen, Alan G. A. "Steve", 
193, 206, 212, 225, 227, 

360, 364-7, 367-9, 376-7, 

379, 386, 449, 453, 454 
Stephen House, 367, 379-80 
Sternberg, Miss, 177, 212 
Stevenson, Andrew, 107, 109, 

147, 150 
Stewards, Board of, 120, 158, 
180, 197,214,227,232-3, 

265, 280, 282, 296, 297, 
300, 305, 328, 329, 349, 

Stewart, W. R. "Bill", 362 
Strachan, John, 4, 9, 14, 27, 
432; and education, 3-5, 15, 

21, 91 ; influence on 
government, 3-4, 6; and 
King's College, 4-5, 7, 8, 

22, 23, 44; and ucc, 1 1-12, 
14, 15-16,21-2,23,44,46, 

Strachan, Robin, 226 
Suydam, H. H., 374, 375. See 

also H. H. Suydam Realty 

Sweatman, Rev. Arthur, 87 
Sweny, G. A., 339 

Tatham, W. G., 207 
Tattersall, Dick, 218-19, 220 
Taylor, B. C, 226 
Taylor, E. G, 207 
Telegram, The (Toronto), 95, 

in, 126 
Thompson, Christopher J., 

47, 70, 76, 86, 107 
Thorburn, Dr. James, 131, 

Thring, Edward, 128, 129, 

Tiffany, Edward M., 269-70, 

Todd, David, 377 
Toronto, 36, 51, 84, 131, 137, 

193,331,332,346; and 

ucc, 28, 29, 90, 91,94, 95, 

113, 197,233,374,375,384 
Toronto Regiment, 342 
Tovell, V. M., 237 
Trinity College (University of 

Toronto), 56-7, 136, 274 
Trinity College School, 88, 

Tucker, Miss Mary, 194, 

217-18, 226 

university (Upper Canada), 
2, 4-5, 16, 26; suspension of, 
7, 8, 10, 17. See also King's 
College, University of 

University College 

(University of Toronto), 57, 

University of Toronto, 17,47, 

95,96, 104, 106, 107, 109, 
112, 114, 125, 132, 136, 
150-1, 158, 172, 201, 274, 
332; and College Council, 
54, 56; and ucc committee 
of the Senate, 57, 61, 64, 65, 
66,67,68,69,88, 118 

University of Toronto Schools 
(uts), 237, 381 

Upper Canada, Province of: 

Upper Canada Academy, 26 

Upper Canada College, 47, 
50, 51, 67; Anglican 
influence in, 12, 14, 19-20, 
126, 127, 163,242-3,383, 
433; assessments of, 25-6, 
108, 1 12-13, 137-8, 139-40, 
191, 193, 220-1, 228-9, 265, 
383-90; beginnings, 5, 6, 8, 
9, io-ii, 13, 14, 16; 
boarding, 18, 19, 30, 31, 
65, 68, 75, 76-7, 83, 85, 86, 
98-9, 108, 118, 123-4, 131, 

133, 138-9, 1 40- 1, 143-54, 
166, 172, 176, 180, 186-7, 
189-90, 195-6, 197, 200, 
202-3, 215, 220, 250, 327, 
330, 379, 450; building 
crisis, 203, 246-8, 249, 

centenary, 200, 201; clubs, 
78, 141-2, 157-8, 178, 
185-6, 199,209, 220,239, 
240, 253, 264, 296, 330, 
365, 388; and Colborne, 
8-13, 15, 16-17, 20; College 
crest, 158-9, 440; cultural 
influences, 77-8, 79, 104, 
157, 158, 185-6, 192, 206, 
207, 210, 218-19, 224-5, 
359, 365; curriculum in, 11, 
15, 19,20,22, 27-8,43-4, 
1 14-15, 120, 125, 130, 



139-40, 168-9, 192, 
199-200, 207, 215-16, 
385.389.431,450; Deei 
Park building and grounds, 
1 15-16, 1 17-20, 122, 130, 

132, 133. 136, 143. '46, 
154-5. 163, 165, 169, 171, 

172, 186-7, 194-5. 196. 197. 
200, 202-3, 207, 226-7, 233, 

442, 443, 445, 453; 
Depression, 208; discipline, 
15, 68, 82-3, 103, 1 13, 122, 
l 3°> J 57, ! 78, 208; 
discontent with, 19-23, 25, 
93-6, 107, 108; educational 
trips, 224, 309; 
endowments, 8, 9, 15, 16, 
19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 26, 
28, 45, 52, 54, 55, 66, 69, 
94,95,96, 106, 107-8, 109, 
iio-i 1, 1 12, 1 13, 1 14, 1 17. 
121, 124, 127, 131, 132, 

133, 166, 172, 196, 197, 
202, 203, 204, 243, 248, 

353, 372, 375- 376, 383-4. 
384-5, 388, 429, 439; 
enrolment, 14, 44, 53, 62, 
67,68,90,91,94, 109, 120, 
125, 126, 131-2, 133, 163, 
165, 169, 170, 171, 172, 

173. 194. 197. 199,208-9, 
243- 244, 248, 263-4, 333. 
371,432,446,456; faculty 
and staff, 9, 1 1, 12-13, 22, 

64-6, 67, 69, 71-4, 84, 86-7, 
88,89,94,96,97-101, 107, 
109, 114, 120-1, 125-6, 
127-9, 129-30, 132, 135-7, 
155-7, 165, 166-8, 169, 
170-1, 172, 174, 178-85, 
192, 193, 194, 198-9, 203-7, 

216-19, 220, 221, 225-6, 
227, 231-2, 242, 244, 249, 
262, 263, 375, 383, 384, 
fees, 14,20,45,53,63,65, 
69,92,94. in, 113, 120, 
123, 125, 169, 173, 186, 
193, 197, 208, 232, 243, 
244,248,251, 263,384, 
388, 430, 446; financial 
issues, 52,53, 55, 57,61,66, 
68-9,86,88, 117, 1 2 1-2, 
123, 125, 127, 131, 132, 
171, 173,203,208,243, 
264, 371, 384; fraternities, 
157, 186; funding, 9-10, 1 1, 
14, 17,20,45,55,61, 1 16, 
117, 120, 130, 133, 196, 
200; government of, 11, 
68,69,93, 113, "4, 124, 
130, 133, 133-4, 163,385-6; 
health care, 30, 74, 86, 122, 
'3 1 , 1 53'y house system, 
195-6, 209,353,440,446; 
King Street buildings and 
grounds, 10, 17-19, 30, 62, 
64,66,76,85,91-3,94, 107, 
1 1 1-12, 117, 1 18, 119, 137, 
201, 278,314,323,327, 
proposed relocation (1929), 
200, 201-2; religious 
training, 33, 130, 131, 137, 
166, 177, 240-1, 242, 245-6, 
302, 428; scholarships, 163, 
193-4, 196, 197-8, 243, 244, 
261, 388, 436, 446; status 
of, 13-14, 14-15, 16,23-4, 
45, 109-10, 113, 114; 
uniforms, 21 1-12, 296, 297, 
303-4. See also College 
Times, The; King's College, 
University of; Preparatory 
School; Norval; sports 

Upper Canada College Act 
(1894), 124,247,257 

Upper Canada House, 379, 


Varsity. See University of 

Varsity, The, 140, 274-5, 438 
Visiles Interprovinciales, 206, 


Wallace, Frank H., 100, 

Walsh, R. F. G., 347-8 
Walter, Arnold. 226 
Warren, Peter, 308 
Waters, Mr., I 10, 1 14 
Watkins, B., 165, 183-5 
Watson, J. Graeme, 230, 242, 

Wedd, William, 54-5, 58, 60, 

64, 65, 66, 70, 73, 84, 86, 

98, 107, 109, 1 14, 1 18, 120, 

Wedd's House, 136, 195, 255, 

256, 257 
Weeks, John, 231-2 
Wells, Joseph, 45, 432 
Williamson, A. E., 155, 299 
Willison, Sir John, 175, 194, 

Wilson, H. H., 248, 249 
Wilson, T. H., 141 
Wood, S. C, 123, 124, 440 
Woodruff, Hamilton, 320 
Woods, D. M., 261 
Worrall, James, 226 
Wright (gardener), 190, 284 

York (Upper Canada), 5, 6, 

10, 434; favouritism 

towards, 19-20; schools in, 

2-3, 7, 8, 10, 20, 26 
Young, Archibald Hope, 

98-9, 115, 146, 147, 149, 

150, 154,442 
Young, George Paxton, 100 
Young, Thomas, 25, 77 

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