N.Z HISTORY EDUCATION IN THE DAYS OF THE SLATE PENCIL

Press, Volume XCIX, Issue 29270, 30 July 1960, Page 3

N.Z HISTORY EDUCATION IN THE DAYS OF THE SLATE PENCIL

Origins of the Primary School Curriculum. 1840-1878. By John L. Ewing. N.Z. Council for Educational Research. 139 PP. Index. To begin with, Mr Ewing’s book is unfortunate in its title, which is likely to repel all but those professionally concerned with education. In fact, however, it should appeal to a much wider audience. The schools it describes are so very different from schools today. Indeed there is a fascination about what now seems so remote. For instance, Mr Ewing records that only a small proportion of children went to school at all in the early years of settlement. “Many of them had instead to work hard as members of family units trying to gain a foothold in a new country.” Others could not even get near the school in wet weather and learned to read at home, using the family Bible as a text-book. On the other hand, there were soon “some hollow imitations of good English schools.” Mr Ewing quotes an advertisement for “Miss Christopher’s Establishment for Young Ladies” in Auckland. The terminal fee for “the complete course of English education” was twelve guineas. “Drawing of flowers in water colours” cost an extra guinea. In Dunedin in 1851 “a limited number of young Gentlemen”, were offered board and. an education which included Latin, Greek, mathematics, bookkeeping, agricultural chemistry, and drawing. Terms were to be reasonable; but, as the author drily observes, there is no evidence that the invitation was accepted.

Another fascinating development was the establishment of genuine “dame” schools. These flourished in the ’fifties, when “a dear old lady in a lace cap with violet ribbons” sat by the fire and a dozen pupils read to her in turn from Testaments and primers. It was just what is described in Shenstone’s poem. Outside centres of light like Dunedin and Wellington, school was held in mud huts, raupo whares and wooden sheds “amidst flax, tussock or bush.” As the text books used were those which the teachers or the pupils’ parents had brought with them from the Homeland, colonial scholars sitting within the sound of the waves lapping on the beach or of the calls of the native birds in the bush nearby had to wrestle with problems such as these: “A gentleman hath an annuity of £896 17s per annum. I desire to know how much he may spend daily that at the year’s end he may lay up 200 guineas and give up to the poor quarterly 100 moiders.”

Mr Ewing further enlivens his pages with reports from inspectors and personal reminiscences by pupils and teachers. At Marton “the school was conducted by a man named Barker, who before and after school hours occupied his time by making bricks. He slept in a small room partitioned off at the end of the school room and cooked for himself” At Ellesmere inspectors were impressed when a small boy could point out Spitsbergen on the map and was able to relate with gusto “how the Saxons fastened scythe blades to the axles of their war-chariots,, and, driving furiously among Roman soldiers, cut their legs off.” As for the curriculum, it soon became ambitious. After the pupils could chart the alphabet and read from, a large wall sheet, “An ox. It is iny ox. My ox is by me. He is on my ox. Go on, ox. We go on. On, on we go”; they might be considered ready for simultaneous reading. Here “the passage must be read as if bf one person; no-one must be out of time or tune.” Some inspectors found the tune deafening. The noise of the slate pencil was loud and continuous. Memory work included “the dates for four Norman and 14 Plantagenet Kings.” “Ring the Bell, Watchman,” was a popular number in singing classes. Vdre Foster’s copybooks were standard equipment. The tone in the schoolroom sometimes left much to be desired. One boy “threw his slate at the teacher and walked off, leaving school." Then there was the Irish boy, who always wore his father’s red uniform jacket “The master beat him so frequently that the boy finally ‘took

I to’ the master, jumped out of the ■ window, and never came back.” I An interesting chapter deals I with the school inspectors of the early days; and it is impossible . not to be impressed by the devo- ' tion to duty of such stalwarts as , Donald Petrie, William Colenso, ’ and John Hislop. In Nelson, W. ' C. Hodgson seems to have been ; in a class all on his own. The . problems confronting these men ! were numerous, and one example ’ is worth mentioning: “In 1882 ’ inspectors in North Canterbury , took the trouble to find out why ' so many children were absent on j examination day and discovered that the backward children were i not only not encquraged, but in , some cases actually forbidden to ‘ be present.” J The author is not unmindful of , the children’s point of view and . quotes a remarkable passage from John A. Lee’s “Children of the . Poor.” “It was a cold clear mom- , ing. He enters. There is a deathly ; stillness. He is dictator by right ’ of physical and mental power to I intimidate and not because his , job makes him supreme. "The ; lesson is Barbara Fretchie. Who . was Barbara Fretchie?’ Eager ■ hands are thrust aloft, the hands ' of all who wish to obtain goodwill.” , Only one complaint can be i made about Mr Ewing’s book I once its forbidding title has been accepted. All teachers and everyone interested in New Zealand ; children of long ago should read it, and it is therefore unfortunate that the price puts its beyond the reach of many who would find it a delightful book to possess.