the scottish episcopal church

A New History, by gavin white

Preface

1
Tullochgorum

2
Eighteenth Century

3
Seabury

4
Worship

5
Edinburgh

6
Oxford Movement

7
Glasgow

8
Publications

9
Church or Province

10
'English Episcopal'

11
Schools

12
Social Service

13
Synods and Councils

14
Clergy Training

15
A Small Dog Barking

16
As Others See Us

17
Women

18
Society

19
Second World War and After

Selected bibliography

Links

"It may be observed that every advance in the national system of education in Scotland since 1871 has also synchronised with a decline in the response of the Scottish people to the claims of organised religion in their own country." So wrote an Episcopalian in 1928, lamenting the decline of church schools. Only by educating children in the Christian faith, and in the Episcopal faith, in day schools where all was coloured by a Christian ethos, would secularism be kept at bay. And it was clear to some if not to others that secularism was not being kept at bay. So they blamed it on schools which taught scripture out of context, as having not much to do with a church. Or did not teach scripture at all. (1)

Behind this view was another, that religion is only to be had if it is formally taught, and that the natural instinct is to be irreligious. Yet it was felt that schools could and would overcome this natural instinct, and would counteract the march of secularism and the decline of the church. But there was another assumption - - that Episcopal schools had been set up for this purpose. Yet this assumption was false. The system of Episcopal church schools was not built up to provide religious instruction for Episcopalian children, except, perhaps, in the north-east, where Episcopalians were sufficiently numerous to fill them. They were set up to provide schooling for the children of the poor who would otherwise have had none. Of course they also provided religious instruction, but the idea of education without religion was scarcely known in the last century. This being their purpose, most Episcopalian schools catered to the children of non-Episcopalian parents. When state schools became universally available, only local sentiment could justify the continued existence of an Episcopal school.

This is important because the increase of Roman Catholic schools in this century is sometimes contrasted with the near-disappearance of Episcopal schools. Between 1872, the date on which Scottish education authorities took responsibility for universal education, and 1930, Roman Catholic schools increased from 100 to 227, while Episcopal schools decreased from 100 to 44. And around a hundred was as high as the figure ever had been; in 1856 there were supposed to be 104, with between 9,000 and 10,000 children in them. But Roman Catholic and Episcopal schools were not comparable. They had different functions. Roman Catholic schools were for Roman Catholic children, in the belief that schooling in their own faith was vital to the continuation of that faith. There were virtually no others in those schools, and in due course a full system covered almost all of Scotland. Episcopal schools sprang up wherever a clergyman could raise the funds to start one. If we do not know how many there were for decades at a time, this is because they were initially not part of any real system. Furthermore, they were overwhelmingly primary schools with no provision for secondary education; it had never been thought that the lower classes would need secondary education. And if many non-Episcopalian children were enrolled, the Episcopalian children often were not, since, as noted in 1931, "in the minds of many parents in Scotland a feeling exists that Church schools are scholastically not so good as other schools." And most of them were scholastically not as good; they were poor schools for poor children. (2)

It is widely believed that the 1918 Education Act conferred special status on Roman Catholic schools in Scotland. It did not. It allowed religious denominations to sell or rent their schools to the Education Authority, which would continue the religious status of those schools. But this was not intended to benefit Roman Catholics, who initially rejected the idea. Their dioceses only gradually moved into the system as they realised that the crippling cost of education was beyond them, and that the education authorities, replaced ten years later by county councils, would keep their side of the bargain. This was, in fact, a good bargain for both parties; the state paid for Roman Catholic schools but controlled the curriculum and the quality of teaching. And the Roman Catholics had enough teachers to staff their schools, or nearly enough, and it was a real system, unlike the scattering of Episcopal schools. However, the surprising fact about Scottish education is only indirectly linked to Roman Catholics; it is the absence of a separate Presbyterian system. In 1923 Principal Boyd of the Episcopal college for teachers noted that in 1872 when the state took over parish schools, "the two great Presbyterian Churches practically washed their hands of their schools." He went on to say that devoted Presbyterian teachers kept up a Christian presence in the schools, and it is probably true to say that the Presbyterian churches saw Scotland as a Presbyterian country, so that its state schools would still be Presbyterian, and in fact they were. And, in many parts of Scotland, they still are. But the contrast with England is marked. The Church of England maintained and maintains a network of schools beside the regular state schools, and this is because the Church of England has never had the near-monopoly in England which the Presbyterians have had in Scotland. And yet that monopoly only existed because Roman Catholics had opted out. Even in 1872 there were enough Roman Catholics to be a factor had they been in state schools, and to a much lesser extent the same was true of Episcopalians. The inescapable conclusion is that the existence of a Roman Catholic system of schools was the main thing which made it unnecessary for Presbyterians to create one of their own. (3)

In 1923 Principal Boyd noted that most Episcopal schools had been transferred under the 1918 act, though the guarantees would only last ten years. But he could see them being closed where the proportion of Episcopal children was small, and this did happen in some places. And, as Boyd continued, while the ideal was the church day school, "this ideal is receding", and Sunday schools had to be be improved to compensate. But in fact the fall in numbers in church schools, from 10,280 in 1911 to 5,912 in 1931, had begun well before the passing of the 1918 act, and, more ominously, numbers of children in Sunday schools had been decreasing from 1908. Insofar as there was a relationship, the church was not declining because it was losing its schools, it was losing its schools because it was declining. (4)

Nonetheless, some in the church fought to maintain what schools they could. At the 1927 Representative Church Council, the Rev. T.W.H.White spoke on schools, saying that in most cases the authorities were "quite sympathetic", which was true, but the church "had a number of schools for which they had no right to claim maintenance", since numbers in them were small. Some authorities, notably Edinburgh, were generous in allowing Episcopal children to have their own instruction in state schools, which really went beyond the law. But he did want Episcopalians to "show to the outside public that they were really keen on religious education." This brought upon White an outburst from Dean Christie of Stonehaven, an enthusiastic for the history of the eighteenth century, in which he would probably have been hanged or beheaded, to the effect that the schools "were sold, if he might say so, for thirty pieces of silver." And in the years that followed there were complaints that education without religion was at the root of all difficulties, and that there was still a great future for church schools. In fact there was no future for church schools, and few were willing to fight for them. They had done their job, and the laity were more realistic about this than were some of the clergy. Those clergy who fought for them were clergy from the old heartland of northern Aberdeenshire and Banffshire, where church schools really were for Episcopalian children. But these clergy fought for church schools all over Scotland, even where the schools had few Episcopalians in them. (5)

But if there were to be Episcopal schools, they had to have teachers, and if they were to be different from the regular run of teachers, they had to be differently trained. This meant a training college, and that was Dalry House in Edinburgh. This began at Croft in 1850, moved two years later to join the Edinburgh Diocesan Mission School in what became St. Andrew's Hall, moved again in 1856 to Minto House, then in 1866 to Lochrin House, and in the next year the men students went to a college in Durham and were replaced by women. In 1876 it moved once more to Dalry House, near Morningside, Dean Ramsay being the chief figure behind it, and in 1894 it was taken over by the Representative Church Council. Of the 135 men trained before 1867, many later became clergy; this was a period in which male teachers of young children were being phased out, while clergy were being more widely recruited. In the first fifty years of training women a total of 1744 passed through the college, about 30 each year. The course normally lasted two years, though a few students did university degrees which took three years or four. Students lived either in Dalry House itself or in two other houses in nearby streets. There was also a "Practising School" with a maximum of 350 pupils. From 1920 the state paid all salaries and equipment costs, while the church paid for upkeep, and the Leslie Bursaries supported Scottish candidates, who were a decided minority. The college flourished under Principal Boyd, born at Crieff in 1866, a graduate of Edinburgh and of Coates Hall who wrote both Edinburgh and London B.D. examinations while rector at Banff, and who went to revive Dalry House in 1913 after the death of the much-loved Dr. Leslie. Boyd had "deep scholarship in divinity, comparative religion, and psychology", and also lectured on ethics and logic. On his death in 1929 it was written that he knew many things but "he did not needlessly inflict these on his students. His choice of matter, for example in psychology, where a lecturer may go terribly astray, was dictated strictly by his students' needs as prospective teachers." That Dalry House had to be defended against the spirit of the age by arguing that low-level teachers, and women at that, were only told what they had to know, was perhaps inevitable. That Boyd was a real scholar who fostered zeal for scholarship in his students cannot be doubted for a moment. (6)

Yet the college's days were numbered. State aid depended on it not falling below a total of 50 students for two years in succession, and as early as 1921 it was down to 55 students. By 1926 it was up to 82 but the vast majority were English, and both north and south of the border it was becoming easier for girls to find places in large colleges of education rather than applying to a small and obscure, though far from inferior, college in Scotland. In 1928 there were only 47 students and it was decided that all "secular instruction" should be at what is now Moray House, while Dalry House gave only two hours a week of religious instruction and served as a hostel. In that year there were only four new Scottish students and each English one cost Scottish ratepayers 30 per year, though Scottish schools gained their services. The college finally closed in 1934, not only because numbers were falling but because schools for its graduates were becoming fewer. And to compensate for its closing, Episcopalian students at the four state colleges of education received special instruction from Episcopal clergy. Dalry House had gone, but it was remembered as a happy place which provided a professional future for those who might otherwise have had none, and provided good teachers to church schools for the best part of a century. And, of course, they served state schools thereafter. (6)

As the Episcopal schools declined, there were disagreements between education authorities and the church, but what stands out is how untypical these were. In most places both sides behaved sensibly and co-operation was the rule of the day. But some cases stood out, and the most notable was New Pitsligo. New Pitsligo was the estate of Sir William Forbes who endowed the Episcopal chapel, was patron of the established kirk, and set up an Episcopal school which came to be within a minute's walk of an education authority school, and which had relatively few Episcopal children in it. It was hardly surprising that the Aberdeen Education Authority decided that, instead of the two schools duplicating each other's work, the Episcopal one should take all the children for four years, after which they should go to the board school. The matter went to the Court of Session, which upheld the decision in 1923, but on appeal to the Inner House of the Court of Session, this was overturned. In fact victory was won at a great price; one of the judges said that he could not see what damage the change made to the Episcopalians, but they were entitled to their pound of flesh, while the change was "eminently desirable", the two schools being so close. Another judge, Lord Anderson, voiced a common objection to Episcopal schools when he implied that the only difference between Presbyterians and Episcopalians was that the former disapproved of the "killing times" in the late seventeenth century, while the latter did not. This caused violent reactions from the Primus and everyone else. But the Episcopal school had only four teachers for 157 pupils, so each teacher had more than one class, which was educationally undesirable. Then the headmaster resigned, and the authority could not find another Episcopalian for the job, while the upgrading of the authority school could only go ahead if they had more pupils. The authority considered an appeal to the House of Lords, but compromised; the changes made would be permanent, but other changes would only be made after consultation. In 1938 both schools were replaced by a new building with four of the ten classrooms being "Episcopal", joined to the others by a corridor. The lessons to be learned from this long-running battle were, first, that the authority wanted good education, and was not willing to have it hampered by denominational privileges, though it would otherwise respect these. Secondly, that the church was scared stiff that if they gave way anywhere, even where their case was weakest, all education authorities would be encouraged to sweep their schools off the map. But in due course each party learned it had to go halfway to accommodate the other. (7)

The case of St. Mary's School, Glasgow, showed divisions amongst Episcopalians themselves. There were only two Episcopal schools in that diocese, and when in 1922 the headmaster of St. Mary's was promoted elsewhere, the authority sent in a non-Episcopalian. This infuriated the diocesan inspector, Canon Petrie of St. Margaret's, one of four clerical brothers of a clerical father from the north-east, and a former rector from New Pitsligo. But Petrie found the ground cut from underneath him; the authority had consulted Provost Lethbridge of St. Mary's Cathedral, and the school managers, and Lethbridge, believing that it did not matter who was headmaster provided that Episcopal clergy gave instruction in religion, had agreed. This led to a complaint from the Episcopalian headmaster of the other school, that of St. John's in Dumfries, who had given his working life to being a church teacher, and was now told it did not matter. And it led to grumbles from Petrie, who in his next inspection of St. Mary's went out of his way to say that it would have been better if it had had an Episcopalian headmaster, causing the Presbyterian headmaster and his teachers to demand a retraction, whereupon Petrie said it was an excellent school in everything else. But in the long view, Lethbridge was right. The authority was trying to help and not to hinder, they could not find another Episcopalian, it may have been strict law that they should have gone outside their area to seek one, but even then they might have failed. And they had given St.Mary's an outstanding headmaster in everything else, and one willing and anxious to preserve the character of the school. (8)

Then there was Galashiels where the Scott family had endowed a school which was Episcopalian but served all children at that end of town. There were four teachers for 175 pupils, and 68% of the pupils were non-Episcopalian. The Rev. R.H.Hall was rector and "supervisor of religious education", and taught himself, and in 1930 the authority called him a "Strange, Unheard of, Supervisor", saying there had been no trouble before his arrival. Hall came from the north-east and took for granted the status of church schools he had known in his youth. From Galashiels he went on to be travelling organiser for home mission, and then Bishop of Aberdeen, where he acquired a name for pugnacity. The dispute rumbled on, always about religious instruction of non-Episcopal children and never about educational standards, and always about Hall believing he had rights in the school, while the authority, and apparently the headmaster, objected. Both sides compromised, and a settlement was reached, then they disagreed again. Finally, in 1933, the Episcopal school was amalgamated with another, though Episcopal influence was to continue. What is notable about this dispute is that in some parts of Scotland Episcopal clergy had access to schools, and in others not, and the legal position was best left obscure. (9)

The other cases were minor. In 1926 there was a dispute over St. Martin's School in Dundee, but this school was saved, while St. Margaret's, Lochee, was let go as it was very small. A school at Inverurie with only nine pupils, and one at Strichen with sixteen, were willingly closed, and it was agreed that the church had no moral right to maintain other uneconomic schools where alternatives were available. A fund for educating Episcopalian pupils at Avoch in Ross-shire caused trouble as there were no Episcopalian pupils left, and precious few pupils at all, while a school at Buckie was ordered by Banffshire Education Committee to admit Episcopalian children and no others. The Penecuik Episcopal school was divided by the education committee so that part of it became a Roman Catholic school, and in Fraserburgh the Episcopal school was rebuilt to be primary only, with all secondary work being done at Fraserburgh Academy. And when the old education authorities were abolished in 1929 and county education committees took their place, an event much feared in the years leading up to it, the position of church schools remained much as it had been. Of course this was largely because the state could not move against Episcopal schools without also imperilling Roman Catholic schools, and Roman Catholics took a keen interest in the battles over keeping Episcopal schools open. But if Episcopalians benefited from the Roman Catholic determination to maintain their schools, Roman Catholics might have had more difficulty maintaining a system of education if some of their battles had not been fought by Episcopalians. In the broader field of history, that may have been the greatest significance of the Episcopal school system. (10)

But not all Episcopalians were happy. In 1936 Canon J.D.Mowat complained that "we are faced with a determined effort all over the country, on the part of Education Committees, to stamp out our remaining day schools in Scotland. The privileges our Church received under the 1918 Act rankle in the Protestant mind, and we are not beloved. But the Roman Catholics, who received the same privileges, get all they ask for. They, however, show a united front on the education question, and we are at sixes and sevens. I notice, too, on our side in the course of these negotiations a strange lack of tact and a want of the give-and-take spirit which would help to make matters run more smoothly." The evidence on this is mixed. Education Committees were happy to accept church schools where they did not hold back education, and where there was a give-and-take spirit. Episcopalians were not beloved, on the whole, but neither were Roman Catholics. But everyone knew that Roman Catholics were different, and wanted to be different, while few outsiders knew why Episcopalians wanted to be different, or why they had schools at all. And since most Episcopalians had little interest in the schools, of which the main function was now performed by state schools, it was inevitable that they would fade away. They had done their job, and done it well, and there was no cause for regret. A handful remain, and only a handful. They are reminders of a once-thriving activity. (11)