Oundle School
Review of the school by The Daily Telegraph
In an article on the front page of a supplement on Independent Schools in The Daily Telegraph for Saturday 27th September, John Clare, its Education Correspondent, chose to focus on Oundle School. The headline writer described the Headmaster, Dr Townsend, as "a quiet but determined Australian with a very strict code of conduct" and defined the distinctive ethos of the School in the Headmaster's words: "We want to develop the human spirit."
John Clare was clearly impressed by the Headmaster's vision for the School and the values he promotes, and especially his determination to create "a more cultured, intellectual tone." The Headmaster was reported as saying: "The advantage of a boarding school is that it has the extra scope of time and human contact to pursue that vision in depth. You can create a coherent world" - a world committed to the values of a liberal education, a world that offers an alternative to the "rampant materialism" of the modern world.
The result, Clare noted, was "a confident busy school." He was struck by the vast choice of activities available to Oundle pupils, and by their "maturity and ease with one another: not raucous teenagers let off the leash, but young grown-ups going about their business." Pictures of a boy in a science laboratory, a girl in the sculpture studio and pupils in the Cloisters accompanied the article, which concluded with the Headmaster's words: "This is still decent middle England. There is not much left of it and it's worth preserving."
Full Text
by John Clare, 27th September, 2003 The Daily TelegraphSchools - like their head teachers - come in many shapes and sizes and cater to different needs. The man in charge of the green fields of Oundle is a quiet but determined Australian with a very strict code of conduct, reports John Clare. 'We want to develop the human spirit'. 'This is still decent middle England . . . and it's worth preserving'
Oundle is a quintessentially English boarding school set in and surrounded by a quintessentially English market town.
The honey-coloured buildings are old and gracious; their gardens are immaculate; the steeple of the parish church, the highest in Northamptonshire, dominates the surroundings; and the school's playing fields stretch to the horizon. Sit on a bench in St Peter's churchyard and quite soon most of Oundle's 1,050 pupils will pass you by on their way to and from their classes or houses, the boys in neat blazers and ties, the girls in eye-catching, chalk-striped, ultramarine culottes. Look again and you will be struck by their maturity and ease with one another: not raucous teenagers let off the leash but young grown-ups going about their business.
Walk round the school during lesson time and you will notice an air of quiet concentration. Visit some of the 13 boarding houses and you will be impressed by their gleaming orderliness and the high standards of comfort and care. Join the pupils in chapel before lunch and you will be moved by the uncompromising seriousness of the occasion.
Reflect a moment and you will realise that none of this happens by accident. True, the raw material could scarcely be bettered. Boarding fees of £20,000 a year (and day fees of £10,000 for one in five) require a well-heeled clientele that likes what it is buying and supports the school's ethos. An idyllic environment undoubtedly eases the task of recruiting and retaining gifted and committed teachers. Over and above that, though, Oundle, the third largest boarding school in Britain after Eton and Millfield, is exceptionally well run.
The credit goes to Ralph Townsend, 51, a scholarly, very English Australian now beginning his fifth year as head, having previously been head for 10 years of Sydney Grammar, an elite boys' day school. His manner is low-key and his management style consensual - heads of houses and departments enjoy considerable autonomy here - but there is no mistaking his pervasive influence or his determination.
"We set clear boundaries," he says. "If you are going to hold 830 adolescents together in a residential community, there's not much room for blurring."
Accordingly, the rule book - the "Oundle Code" - is short and to the point. "Every pupil," it begins, "is expected to take part conscientously in classes, tutorials, games and other extra-curricular activities. This involves politely and promptly obeying all directions of staff and prefects."
Behind it is a range of sanctions triggered by cards of various colours - green for academic misdemeanours, white for disruptive behaviour and pink for "tardiness" (the campus is far flung and the new pupils' handbook contains six pages of detailed maps). Punishments include early morning chores, being sent on runs, collecting litter, and writing essays on "challenging" topics.
Far more importantly, though, Oundle has an unusually strong house system. All boarders (the youngest are 11) live, sleep and eat in a closely observed community of 60, and each has a personal tutor who monitors every aspect of his or her school career.
The resulting regime can be irksome - "You may hate the school rules, the restrictions, the punishments, the intensity of Oundle," observes a senior pupil writing in the school newspaper - but it provides a structure ("avoiding the extremes of tyranny or indulgence") within which Dr Townsend can promise "freer spirits" that they'll not be crushed.
''The point of boarding schools is to develop the human spirit," he says. Parents tend to look for a safe environment and good exam results; children want life to be fun, and fairly readily see the point of things being useful. But a good school will want to offer a bigger vision than that. "The advantage of a boarding school is that it has the extra scope of time and human contact to pursue that vision in depth," he says. "You can create a coherent world."
At the heart of his vision is a stern rejection of utilitarianism and "rampant materialism" (a bit rich, considering the fees), and a restatement of the values of a liberal education with an emphasis on music (about which he is passionate), art, drama and the Anglican eucharistic tradition ("maintaining compulsory chapel in a godless age").
"I am trying to create a more cultured, intellectual tone, which means celebrating rugby less and music more," he says. "That's what a head does. He sets the tone, not by spin and harangue but by quiet example - the drip effect."
The result is a notably confident, busy school - so busy, indeed, that Dr Townsend volunteers it is not for shrinking violets. "You've got to have stamina - physical, mental and social - to cope with the pace and the number of people," he says.
Aside from the academic pressure - entry into the sixth form requires at least six GCSEs at grade B or above with A*s or As in the subjects to be studied at A-level - there is a full sports programme and a vast choice of "voluntary" activities, at least some of which are compulsory.
They range from drama (the school has its own theatre), music (60 per cent play at least one instrument), engineering (a relic of the time a century ago when Oundle boasted the finest school workshops in the country) and broadcasting (the school has its own radio station) to weight training, robotics, navigation, clay pigeon shooting, kung fu, philosophy, French cookery and wine tasting.
"Everyone's so busy, it's manic," says Tessa Stanley- Price, this year's head of school. "There's such a lot to do that home can seem quite boring."
Where it all leads is to "traditional-style courses at traditional universities", the most popular of them being economics, engineering, history, medicine, modern languages and sciences at Oxford, Cambridge, Bristol, Durham, Edinburgh, Imperial, UCL, Leeds, Manchester and Newcastle - the very same institutions where most of the staff were educated, further underlining what a homogenous community this is.
It was not always so. Founded as the town grammar nearly 450 years ago by Sir William Laxton, Master of the grocers' Company, the school - much like Harrow and Rugby - split itself into two on class lines in 1876: Laxton for for the sons of tradesmen and local farmers, Oundle for the sons of gentlemen.
By the early 20th century, Oundle had beome a dynamic and progressive public school, numbering H G Wells and Arnold Bennett among its parents.
Now co-educational and, since the millennium, reunited, it is once again reinventing itself. Less socially grand, and less well equipped than some of its competitors - the school gives away more than £1.5 million a year in scholarships and bursaries - it has announced a £20 million appeal to boost its provision for science and technology and make more space for music and art.
Oundle now prides itself on being the most national of boarding schools, drawing its pupils from more than 100 prep schools stretching from Scotland to the South West.
What attracts their parents are those values Dr Townsend works so hard to promote. "This is still decent middle England," he says. "There's not much of it left, and it's worth preserving."
Copyright: Telegraph Group Ltd 2003