The Bishop's speech

It all began with a sermon preached by the Bishop of London 450 years ago. My predecessor Bishop Ridley took well over an hour to describe the plight of London's poor and to move the conscience of the boy-king Edward. The Chief Steward tells me however that I have only a few minutes and I am please to remember [and I quote] that "this is a mixed event and not the Old Blues rugby club annual dinner." Obviously rumours of my previous speeches have filtered through to Horsham.

Bishops obviously had influence in Ridley's day. Nowadays as a story in the Daily Telegraph on Monday asserted, "Bishops in the Church of England are less grand than they used to be but they are also more remote from society." I decided therefore to dress down this evening to appear a little more fashionably fluffy and engaged.

Bishops have been for a long time a but of humour. Voltaire wrote a letter about the bishops of the Church of England in which he remarked that "such was the gaucherie of the manners they learned at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge that they were commonly compelled to content themselves with one wife only and that usually their own."

Actually as you know, Ridley's earthly story had a melancholy ending. Tomorrow the 16th of October is the anniversary of his burning at the stake. But the good that he did lives after him in the wonderful school that we celebrate tonight. I am particularly impressed by the tenacity with which you have guarded your charitable object. I understand that 40% of present students are educated free of charge and this is a record of which you can be justly proud.

Nothing could have been done without the support of the City of London and the City's remarkable faithfulness to Christ's Hospital over four and a half centuries. We salute the presence of the Lord Mayor locum tenens, himself an Old Blue and other distinguished city figures.

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The name of one of the first children entered at Christ's Hospital tells its own sad story. She was Ellen Nomoreknownen, aged four. Since then the tally of famous Old Blues would certainly break the Chief Steward's barrier. Apart from Coleridge and Thomas Fanshawe Middleton the first Protestant Bishop in India whose marble statue stands in the South aisle of St Paul's, I like the sound of Elton Box, by turns a lumberjack and press ganged seaman, who then became the proprietor of a coffee stall in the Edgeware Road before going into music publishing. It was he who launched, "Oh what a luvvely bunch of coconuts."

Schools are where society transcends itself and the future is built. From knowledge of Christ's Hospital over the past decade and meetings with Senior Grecians and other students, I know that the school is fulfilling that role. Just before this dinner I was briefed by current students about Chapel services and how they had been "jazzed up". Then there was the band tour to Pasadena and the Antipodean Rugby tour but my lips are sealed about the details. I also hear that you are introducing American Football. The students who were kind enough to speak to me at the reception before this gala event were the best possible advertisements for the education on offer and the ethos of Christ's Hospital.

Schools should be places where young people not only acquire excellent skills but also be given the material to develop as people of independent judgement and even critics of the status quo.

That is not to say that any school should encourage the lazy preference for motiveless modernity. A rich memory and broad culture enables a person to respond wisely to change. Without a rich memory we are doomed merely to react to change. Christ's Hospital encourages innovation but it also equips young people to participate in the conversation between generations which feeds civilised values. Long live the school uniform.

A strong Christian impulse lay behind the foundation of Christ's Hospital. Now the school caters for people of many different faiths and thank God for it.

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Jesus Christ invited but did not compel people to pray "Our Father". Compulsory alleluias may secure submission but they do not open the way to a deep spiritual life with God. Christians should be tolerant not because they believe so little but because they believe so much.

At the same time a genuine pluralism of faiths is much more creative than an intolerant established secularism. At Christ's Hospital people learn tolerance by living alongside one another. There are far greater dangers in the post code segregation which afflict some schools.

The atmosphere today is very different thank God from the time, over four centuries ago, when Ridley was burnt for his faith.

Very recently we had a gathering of religious leaders form London the house to meet Mayor Livingstone. There is a portrait of Henry the Eighth on the wall of the supper room and with ecumenical tact oozing from every pore I said to the Cardinal, "Sit with your back to him Cormac you don't want to look at him over supper." The Mayor came in and looked at the picture but appeared to be looking at the Cardinal and said "that man's a monster." The blood drained from his face but almost immediately we all realised what had happened and the evening continued in rare good humour.

Let's hope that we never go back to demonising one another. Much of our hope in these dark times lies in the education offered in places like Christ's Hospital.

To all those who support the school, as Ridley's modern day successor I salute you. There can be no more worthwhile thing to do than to help give young people a good start in life. As Kipling said "Dayspring mishandled cometh not again".

With a full heart and great enthusiasm, I invite you all to rise to drink the toast to:

The religious, royal and ancient foundation of Christ's Hospital, may those prosper who love it and may God increase their number.

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Chris' speech

Chief Steward, my Lord Mayor Locum Tenens, my Lord Bishop, Aldermen, Mr Sherriff, Ladies and Gentlemen.

To be asked to speak at a Founder's Day dinner is an honour which I had never imagined would fall to me. That it should be in such splendid surroundings, and mark the 450th anniversary of the Foundation of Christ's Hospital, is sufficiently overwhelming. But to respond to the Housey Toast proposed so eloquently, delivered by a proposer of such distinction is, - well, I might have said a poisoned chalice, but that would have been indelicate in such company. Instead, I shall call it a suicide pass. My immediate reaction is to kick for touch. But not before I have repeated our thanks to you, Bishop, for being with us tonight. You have already done us honour in preaching at that memorable service last March, when the three hospitals gathered at St Paul's. Your sermon was a model of directness, relevance and brevity.

If your predecessor's sermon lasted an hour, spare a thought for the Bluecoat boys. Dr Haig Brown (author of the Votum, at CH 1833-42 and subsequently Headmaster of Charterhouse) remembered that Sundays at Newgate Street consisted of a two hour service before lunch, catechism classes all afternoon and another two hour service in the evening.

You mention the Old Blue publisher of 'Oh what a luverly bunch of coconuts'; I have no such claim to fame, but Christ's Hospital has produced, I do assure you, women and men of even greater distinction. Take, for example, the Lord Mayor Locum Tenens. Now I am not aware of a full list of Sir Richard's publications, but he has brought great credit on our House by his achievements in this City and by his unwavering support of the School, for which we are immensely grateful. He has nobly overcome the disadvantage of living for a time in Peele B; we noted that he was wise enough to recruit spiritual guidance from Thornton A in the person of Frank Weston, now Bishop of Knaresborough, as his Chaplain during his Mayoral year. I don't think Frank is present this evening; I expect he is snowed up in his northern fastness. Or maybe he's waiting for a golden coach to pick him up?

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We have to thank the present Lord Mayor, Michael Oliver, not only for his permission to dine here this evening, but also for his generous invitation to our Senior Grecian and Second Monitor to sit at the top table at the Guildhall on that glittering occasion of the lunch for Her Majesty's Golden Jubilee last June. Watched by millions on television, the competition to sit next to Sandra Bamfo was a delight to behold.

It is a delight, too, to have with us this year's Senior Grecian and Second Monitor, as well as a number of their colleagues. I understand that it has required a good deal of pressure to extract them from the luxurious surroundings of the Grecians' Houses, and that only on the assurance that the facilities here met the standards to which they have become accustomed at Horsham could they be persuaded to come. I believe the promise of a decent meal tipped the balance. (I would be surprised indeed if anyone could be tempted here from the recently transformed Lamb block.) But welcome to you and to the celestial musicians up there - thank you all for coming.

Four and a half centuries of adherence to the principles of its founding continues to inspire Old Blues (and, thank God, many others) to serve and support the Hospital. Why else should this gathering be one of many around the world, from Vancouver to Sydney and points between, to celebrate that founding?

This year we are especially heartened to hear of three gatherings in the United States - in California, Connecticut and Washington DC. The sound of the CH band evidently echoed far beyond Pasadena. How grateful we are for the interest and sterling support of American Old Blues, and indeed for all those who have enabled our efforts to maintain and replenish the Horsham campus in particular. They stand beside benefactors down the centuries, the fruits of whose generosity we have enjoyed.

Especially in these surroundings we acknowledge our debt to the City of London, and its Livery Companies. Not simply pecuniary support, but just as importantly the dedication of time and energy by those who so willingly help the management of our affairs. I am not referring to their politics when I say that, though most are not schooled at CH, they seem to turn a stronger shade of blue than most of us.

I suspect that few decades in the history of Christ's Hospital have not had their problems, which have oppressed successive Treasurers down the ages. Susan Mitchell had her share during her time, but her dedicated commitment to a shared vision of CH in the 21st century saw us through. Today, gunfire in the City streets is likely to be our new Treasurer, David Farrington, out shooting 'bears'. We wish him a steady aim, and a successful tenure in office. And another local difficulty: on your next visit to Horsham, as you admire the splendour of the new Lamb, don't stand too close to the dining hall bay windows - at least not until the Steward has glued on the parapet copings above more securely.

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Now my main task this evening is to engage in an orgy of nostalgia about life at Horsham half a century ago. It must recite timeworn anecdotes about the masters of the day - Fred, Teddy, Kapper, The Oil and so on. It should contain lamentations about the pitiful quantity of food on which we subsisted (let alone the quality); and horror stories about life in the punishment blocks (Peele, Thornton and the rest) or, worse, the Infirmary. There should, of course, be an obligatory reference to Hertford, and the unwarranted luxuries enjoyed by our sisters there.

You'll be alarmed to learn that I've forgotten most of what happened in those far off days. I am not able to recite the entire house roll, nor tell you who scored in that memorable game against Whitgift (which, needless to say, we won). This last omission probably because I was far more concerned with my feet, as I watched compulsorily from the touchline; I was convinced that they were gravely frostbitten, and would drop off before I got back to the house. (And anyway, why did the first fifteen pitch have to be half-way to the South Downs?)

I can remember the results of my labours in the classroom, in which I know you will take a close interest. School Certificate and matriculation - GCSEs by another name but without the easy options - just good, solid subjects like Divinity, or Mathematics (I think I sat for both). I remember being agreeably surprised at most of my results - my long-suffering tutors must have been quite shaken. But, Head Master, I was expecting to hear today that my result for Greek has at long last been regraded. A failure was poor recompense, I have always felt, for five years hard labour. Couldn't they manage at least a star for perseverance?

I have an enduring respect for my Head Master, and I hope one day to meet him - something I never did during my schooldays. I intend to ask him by what sixth sense he divined what he wrote in my penultimate school report : "This boy does not know what hard work is". But I may never find out, as I shall assuredly end up in a different place from him.

But instead of reminiscence, fast forward please to today, and to the future of Christ's Hospital. What's gone before may be fascinating to some of us, but its usefulness is limited. What matters infinitely more is Christ's Hospital's ability to encourage, develop and equip the young people entrusted to our care with the qualities which will enable them to succeed in the complexities of today's world. This means supporting the Head Master as he leads an academic staff of true vocation and ability. It means sustaining the Clerk and his team in shepherding the resources available to the Foundation with prudence and efficiency. It relies on securing the services of men and women of vision and skill to advise Treasurer and Council.

Tradition and ceremonial have their place, but it is our realisation of the benefits we received, and our willingness to respond to the Charge, that will make the difference for the next generation of Blues, and build yet further on the achievements of 450 years of Christ's Hospital. May those prosper who love it!

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