Wednesday 28 January 2015

An educational story


JL Robertson: an educational story

Iain Smith

 

John Lindsay Robertson was born in Stornoway in 1854, one of twin boys. His mother was from Montrose, his father was a “Ship Master” (1861 census) and “Ship Owner” (1871 census) from Stornoway and they lived in a 3-roomed house at No. 17 Kenneth Street, subsequently migrating to No. 29. So Robertson belonged to a reasonably affluent family. He was educated at the local General Assembly School i.e. one of the church schools that preceded the 1873 foundation of the Nicolson Institute in Stornoway.

 By the 1871 census he is still living at home aged 17; and is a “pupil teacher”. “Pupil teacher” generally indicated a student staying on at school beyond the usual school leaving age of 12 or 13 and possibly intending to become a certificated but non-graduate teacher through a course in a teacher training college. This was a common and quite well-funded route for both males and, increasingly, females in mid to late 19th century Scotland. “Pupil teachers” were paid up to £20 per year, over £2000 at 2013 prices; and many of them at 18 were then awarded bursaries to attend college.

Some pupil teachers however, always males, used this as a route to university; and this appears to have been what Robertson did. By 1871, Scottish universities had become increasingly rigorous in their entrance standards, and it was to be 25 years or more before these standards could be met by study in Stornoway or indeed in much of rural Scotland. So Robertson seemingly at some point migrated to a mainland “higher school” (perhaps Inverness Royal Academy or Aberdeen Grammar School or the Royal High School in Edinburgh). He then attended the University of Edinburgh and graduated with distinction in Arts (MA) and then in Law (LLB). He packed a lot into the decade of the 1870s.

 In 1880 (aged 26) he became an HMI (i.e. Her Majesty’s Inspector of Schools) - “Her Majesty” was of course Victoria rather than Elizabeth. We know that inspectors at the time were recruited on the basis of academic distinction rather than experience in school teaching. Much to the dismay of the main teacher union, then as now the Educational Institute of Scotland, some school inspectors of that era had no school teaching experience at all.  Whether Robertson himself had briefly been a schoolteacher after graduation is uncertain but he had of course some years of experience as the apprentice “pupil teacher”.

In 1888, the local school boards of Barvas, Lochs and Uig in the Island of Lewis and ten others, all in the Highlands, were in financial difficulties, largely through low attendance and poor payment of tuition fees; and they applied to the government for special assistance. This was granted, subject to government having some administrative control. It was JL Robertson who was appointed the administrator of the scheme; and he was promoted to Chief Inspector of Schools (HMCI).  

As Professor Bone describes

Robertson was a Stornoway man who, though quite young as an inspector, was admirably suited by background, temperament and energy for the responsibilities now entrusted to him. He had a shrewd understanding of the attitudes of the Highlanders and, by an unusual combination of tactfulness and audacity, he brought them to accept the Department’s policy. The attendance figures were raised sharply and, though strict economy was practised, educational advances were made in the schools by the broadening and brightening of the curriculum. ....... it was generally admitted that he was just and sincere, and within a few years the position was becoming satisfactory again with the return of the boards to a position of solvency.
By 1890 the three Lewis boards were indeed balancing their books and the others followed at various stages. School fees in elementary (primary) Board schools were abolished in 1890. They then relied, as their local authority school successors do to this day, on a combination of government grant and local rates. 

Thereafter JL Robertson’s main responsibilities were as chief district inspector for the Highlands and Islands.

Across Scotland, attention had come to focus on what we now call “secondary education”.

In 1892, the first state grants for secondary education appeared (10 years earlier than in England) and were used to build up schools in smaller towns as well as to strengthen existing ones……. They formed an effective national network able to prepare both for the universities and for business careers.

This was partly fuelled by the government’s foundation in Scotland in 1888 of the Higher Leaving Certificate. It quickly became, as with remarkably few changes it remains today, the major benchmark for university and college entrance. There was considerable agreement that secondary education should be expanded, especially for bright but poor students; but great controversy as to how. In a complex debate, the central decision was between the School Boards developing their own “higher grade” provision as opposed to the existing secondary provision of “endowed schools” and “higher schools” e.g. Kelvinside Academy, Inverness Royal Academy, Glasgow High School (which were independent of the Boards) remaining under individual control but receiving government grant to fund “deserving” poor scholars or to expand their provision.

In essence both sides gained. Govan School Board on one side was particularly prominent and proactive with the foundation of no less than five “higher grade” schools. Hillhead High School (founded 1885) and Hyndland School (founded in Partick in 1887) are still-functioning memorials to that. On the other side, existing independent secondary schools also received government grant to expand their provision; some of them (e.g. Inverness Royal Academy, Aberdeen Grammar School and Perth Academy) are today simply part of the state-funded system.

In the Island of Lewis, there was no existing secondary school to expand. The Nicolson Institute had been founded in 1873 by endowment and gifts and had quickly become a Board primary school. Building on moves initiated by his predecessor (the now somewhat maligned Forbes) a new Rector WJ Gibson in 1894 took over the creation and expansion of a secondary department; and bursaries “on the advice of Mr JL Robertson HMI” were awarded for the best incoming students. Hence Donald Maclean of Bragar and Robert Maciver of Stornoway became in 1898 the first Nicolson Institute students to go direct to university.  JL Robertson as District Inspector was also instrumental in the Nicolson Institute acquiring and expanding its dedicated secondary building on Francis Street in 1898.  Portree High School and Kirkwall Grammar School began to follow the same route only a few years later with the support of Robertson. So across Scotland even in remote rural areas some barriers to university access were coming down: and WJ Gibson and JL Robertson were key players in this.

But formidable barriers remained. It was certainly not an accident that the predecessor of Donald Maclean and of Robert Maciver as a Nicolson Institute dux (Dina Macleod) had to settle not for a degree but for a sub-degree qualification, the delightfully titled “Lady Literate in Arts”: Scottish universities began to admit women undergraduates to degree courses only in 1892, and initially the numbers were small. We also know from Maclean census data in Bragar and from Professor Robert Maciver’s autobiography that the fathers of Maclean and Maciver were both prosperous merchants; and this was almost certainly a factor in the educational progress of their sons.  Poor working class boys and certainly girls from remote rural areas in Scotland did not, with rare exceptions, go to university in the late 19th century.  The stories of the exceptions (e.g. the church-sponsored Rev. Alexander Macdonald, son of a crofter from late 19th century Swordale) have contributed to a mythology.

If Gibson and other headteachers at school level and if Robertson and a few other chief HMIs inspectors at school district level had played a big part in opening up opportunity, another Scot, one Andrew Carnegie, then made a further intervention in 1901. 

One can think of Carnegie as a 19th century Donald Trump. He has a better claim than Trump to Scottish ancestry and, at least in his later years, a more secure record in philanthropy. In 1901, Andrew Carnegie decided he would give about a quarter billion US dollars (at today's prices) to Scottish universities. But, never himself having been near a university, he took some advice and decided it should go into a trust which might be expected to generate a spending power of about £50,000 a year to pay tuition fees for poor students. £50,000 per year is about £2.5m a year at today’s prices.

 

The Carnegie Trust says today

 

To put this in context, it should be stressed that, contrary to what is suggested, access to university education in Scotland has not always been free. On the contrary, fees were charged by the universities (originally by the professors directly) which represented a significant barrier to access, and there was no provision for subsistence. There was hot competition for the small number of available bursaries……. It is precisely because student fees constituted such a serious barrier to entry for the ‘qualified and deserving’ that Carnegie was first persuaded to consider this endowment.”

 

By 1904, half of all Scottish university undergraduates were benefitting from the Carnegie endowment. The sons, and indeed by then the daughters, of fishermen and crofters and labourers and shoemakers had found another source of support. It was hard enough for Robertson, Maclean and Maciver, all sons of prosperous families, to have made their ways to university in the 19th century. But in the early 20th century, Carnegie made a further difference in opening up paths to university for a wider group.

 

We have tracked for example the 1900s school careers of the great, if tragic, John Munro from Knock school (son of a fisherman) and the almost equally great Murdo Murray from Back school (son of a shoemaker), both examples of rural primary school students from poor backgrounds who accessed secondary education in the Nicolson Institute and subsequently became university graduates in the 1910s. Munro was a teenage prodigy in writing Miltonic verse in his second language of English; no mean Gaelic poet; a war hero; and dead in wartime France before he was 30 years old. Murray was a war poet; a school teacher; an HMI; and -in his elderly years in the 1950s- a Gaelic chronicler of his long-dead school pal Munro.

Success in secondary school provision across Scotland had however put financial pressure on government: for primary students progressing to secondary schooling attracted a high government grant for the School Boards. So Robertson and the government in the 1900s insisted that 13/14-yr-old students in primary schools passed a newly established “qualifying exam” to access secondary education provision: this was an institution which, if not quite as long-lived as the “Higher Leaving Certificate”, blighted the lives of many of us until well into the 1960s.  

A perusal of the school log of Shawbost School in the 1900s suggests that Shawbost was doing poorly in “qualifying exam” results:  so one can understand why William T Ross the then Shawbost head fell out with JL Robertson; and for his pains was exiled to Scarp School for the residue of his career - a Hebridean equivalent of being sent to Siberia. 

Other rural schools in Lewis, like the Knock and Back Schools of Munro and Murray, were doing well in this new regime.  Government reports for the years 1910 to 1914 extolled what had happened in developing secondary education in Lewis as a prime example of the superlative nature of government education policy: some public relations hype in the governance of Scotland does not change over the years.

In 1912 JL Robertson was given an Honorary LL.D. by Edinburgh University. A generation or more later (1952) , Professor Robert M Maciver, the Nicolson alumnus who had profited from the route to university opened up by Robertson and Gibson, received a similar honour from Edinburgh; as, a further generation or more on from that (2008), did another son of the Hebrides, Matthew Maciver, Chief Executive of the General Teaching Council for Scotland. Matthew Maciver had in the 1960s been an undergraduate holder at the University of Edinburgh of a JL Robertson bursary.

 In 1912, Robertson was also more widely influential in Scottish social development. He was a member of the small and high-powered Dewar Committee:  

The report presented a vivid description of the social landscape of the time and highlighted the desperate state of medical provision to the population, particularly in the rural areas of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. The report recommended setting up a new, centrally planned provision of care that within 20 years transformed medical services to the area. This organisation, the Highlands and Islands Medical Service …….. acted as a working blueprint for the NHS in Scotland.

In 1915, Dr JL Robertson became Senior Chief Inspector. i.e. the top HMI in Scotland. In 1919 he was awarded a CB (Companion of the Order of the Bath). In 1921 he retired. He subsequently gave a £5000 donation for educational purposes. From a man whose maximum career salary would have been £900 per year this was not an inconsequential sum: it is over £210,000 at 2013 prices. A residue of this money, sadly eroded by inflation, remains today with Comhairle nan Eilean Siar.

Records held by Tasglann nan Eilean Siar in Stornoway  say of Robertson:

When he died in Inverness, six years after his retirement ………. his popularity was clear in the extent of the activity surrounding his funeral; when his body was returned to Lewis the flags on the island were at half mast and all businesses were closed at noon. All schools throughout Lewis were closed and ‘the senior boys of Nicholson [sic] Institute headed the funeral procession, which included the Lewis Pipe Band, the Brethren of the Masonic Lodge, the Provost, Magistrates and Councillors of Stornoway and members and officials of all the other public bodies’. In addition, ‘there was a very large and representative attendance of the general public, including people from all parts of the island’. Sir George Macdonald, the Secretary of the Scottish Education Department, extolled his virtues and said ‘Few men in our time have laid their native country under so deep an obligation as he has done’.

It is unlikely that many Scottish educational luminaries of today will receive such a send-off.

Back in the 1870s Robertson had faced five barriers to university access for Hebrideans, many of which also applied elsewhere in Scotland:-

1.     One had to be male.

2.     One had to stay on in education beyond the age of 13: and forego the wages available to teenagers, notably in the (relatively lucrative) fishing industry of the time.

3.     One required access to a school which was teaching to University entrance standards: the Island of Lewis and the Hebrides had no such schools.

4.     Someone had therefore to pay the mainland school tuition fees; and the associated costs of travel, food and lodgings.

5.     Someone had to pay university tuition fees; and the associated costs of travel, food and lodgings.

John Lindsay Robertson surmounted these barriers in the 1870s: he was male; he had affluent parents; and most certainly he was talented and hard-working.

He then played a significant national role with others in lowering these barriers for subsequent generations.

He should be better remembered than he is.

 

(Among the many sources on which we have drawn, we especially acknowledge:-

TR Bone (1968)  School Inspection in Scotland 1840-1966  Edinburgh;

D Macdonald (1978) Lewis: A History of the Island Edinburgh

Nicolson Institute (1973) Centenary School Magazine Stornoway


 

 

 

(Iain Smith is a part-time writer of Lewis origins.)

 

Wednesday 21 January 2015

(Condensed, and slightly adapted, from the Professor Sir Tom Devine lecture at http://www.educationscotland.gov.uk/scottishenlightenment/introduction.asp)



"What made the Scottish Enlightenment possible?

It’s a real puzzle - because if you look at the period before the Enlightenment, Scotland was a poor country. They even executed witches a few decades before the Enlightenment and killed infidel blasphemers and heathens - the Ministers of the Church were not very tolerant. So how come a country like that contributed to one of the greatest cultural developments in 18th century Europe?

Three things. The first is, for many centuries, Scotland’s scholars had links with Europe - they had gone to European universities from the 13th century onwards and they were plugged into the ideas developing in those institutions.
One example: the great Edinburgh University medical school which was world famous in the 18th century (and still is) - it really started as a consequence of its founders having gone to university in Holland which was previously the most advanced centre.

The second thing is that after the Reformation, the reformers decided to establish a school in every parish. It didn’t happen immediately but by about a century and a half after the Reformation (which took place in the 1560-1570’s) many parts of Scotland had a school and that meant that there was a general respect for learning in this society.
We know that almost all children went to school in some areas for about three, four, five years. (One has to remember this was not compulsory and it wasn’t free and it was not universal,) But over time this eventually fed into a society which was comfortable with matters of the mind, which in a sense what the Enlightenment was all about.
So, during the period of the Enlightenment, a lot of the old barriers to cultural development began to collapse. The Presbyterian Church of Scotland, which had previously been fanatically opposed to new ideas, began to become more tolerant.

Thirdly (and related to the first two points) the Scottish thinkers, the scholars, the intellectuals, did not have to take political or religious sides - they, even David Hume, were able to discuss things reasonably freely. It was a civilised and sociable atmosphere. You could have an argument between two of the major figures but afterwards they would still remain friends.

All these things came together in a mix that helped to produce the Scottish Enlightenment.
It was, arguably, part of a general flowering of the world of the mind,
Unarguably, there was a degree of tolerance that had not previously existed."

Thursday 15 January 2015

Airports far and wide




 

 

                                                                                                                        127 Balshagray Avenue

Jordanhill

Glasgow

G11 7EG

10th January 2015

Tel : 0141 563 3002

Editor

Stornoway Gazette

10 Francis St

Stornoway

HS1 2XE

 

 

 

Dear  Editor

 

Airport Chaos

 

I refer to the letter from T. Kirkland (SG 8/1/15).

 

While I use airlines and airports relatively infrequently by modern standards and cannot claim the knowledge and expertise of your esteemed correspondent, I have flown in and out of Stornoway Airport moderately often over the last 60 years, perhaps averaging 3 flights per year.  About 200 in all.  So very few.

 

Nor can I compete with Kirkland’s expertise in comparing Stornoway with other airports. I have been in and out of Karachi and Lahore airports a mere 20 times or so each; I have tried Tashkent on some 16 occasions only; Belem in Brazil only 4 times; Beijing also only 4 times; and Dushanbe only twice. On balance, Stornoway is my favourite, although closely tied with Dubai.

 

As a Hebridean born in the first half of the last century from parents who remembered the Wright brothers, I am unable to comment definitively on questions revolving around an airport having two equally functional runways or on the balance between manual versus “high-tech” screening of passengers. But I do know that the issues are very complex indeed.

 

I did however appreciate the security guard at Stornoway Airport who one day insisted on combing through my briefcase. “It contains only boring academic books” said I. He replied to me sadly: “You should not think of it in that way, Mr Smith. That is what I thought when I was young. And that is why I have ended up in this job.”

 

We can all get frustrated at airports at times. But, on balance, I am glad to be away from the era when British European Airways wound up the propellers of an ex-WWII Dakota in Stornoway and pointed it in the vague direction of Balivanich, Tiree and Glasgow.

 

Yours sincerely

 
 

 Iain Smith