Presentation Schools in England: St Vincent's Dartford

                                    J Matthew Feheney fpm

 

Introduction

St Vincent's Industrial School was the first foundation of the Presentation Brothers in England. In 1876, at the invitation of Father Sylvester Donnelly, the previous manager, and Bishop James Danell, Brother Augustine Ryan, Joseph Keogh and another Brother took over the administration of St Vincent's, then located at Brunswick House, Tanner's Hill, Deptford, London SE8. In 1878, the school transferred to a new site at Temple Hill, Dartford, Kent, with spacious grounds covering some 25 acres. Sadly, Brother Augustine, Headmaster, became ill in 1880 and never recovered sufficiently to continue in his appointment. His colleague, Brother Joseph Keogh, left the congregation the following year and two Brothers, Austin Shanahan and Stanislaus Cogan, had to be drafted in from Ireland to take over the administration of the school. This they did very successfully and, two years later, Austin returned to the South Monastery, Cork, while Stanislaus assumed the posts of Superior and Headmaster at Dartford.^[1]

I took up residence in Dartford in November, 1975, and, in this article, I will draw on my personal experience of the school. Each student at St Vincent's came there through the juvenile courts and had an assigned social worker. Each was also a nominal Roman Catholic and had been judged to be in need of residential training and supervision. There was absolutely no physical punishment at St Vincent's, though physical restraint was permitted, if the safety of staff or other students was likely to be endangered. Boys had occasionally to attend court, accompanied by a residential social worker from the school. At these court hearings, not only might they face charges pending since before their arrival at St Vincent's, but also charges arising out of offenses committed while they were away from the school, visiting their homes at weekends or during vacation time.^[2]

 

St Vincent's: Background

From his appointment as Archbishop of Westminster in 1865 until his death in 1892, Most Rev Dr Henry Manning was, by arrangement with the archbishops of Southwark, the chief spokesman for matters relating to schooling for poor, delinquent and destitute children in the London area. In matters of religion, the Catholic policy in respect of schooling had been unequivocally stated by Pope Pius IX in preceding years, and it left Manning with no other choice than to be a separatist, meaning that he wanted all Catholic children in Catholic schools. Manning saw the Catholic Church catering for orphan, delinquent and destitute children in four separate types of school. In the upper layer, were the Catholic Poor Schools, which only the better-off poor could afford to attend, while at the bottom were the reformatories and certified Industrial Schools. Both types of school were in receipt of public grants. The other two categories of school for poor Catholic children were the Certified Poor Law Schools for pauper children and the uncertified private orphanages. It was to the three types of Certified Catholic Schools, however, that Manning looked to educate the majority of poor Catholic children.^[3]

With the passing of the Poor Law Amendment Act of 1868, Manning had reason to hope that the desired legal instrument for the implementation of his educational policy was to hand. In this he was mistaken, however, because the passing of a few clauses in a bill in parliament did not have much effect on some of the ultra-Protestant metropolitan Poor Law Guardians. Moreover, the following year, 1869, Thomas Chamberlain MP, acting on behalf of St Marylebone Guardians, brought a resolution before parliament with the intention of depriving the Poor Law Board of the power acquired through the 1868 Act to order the removal of Catholic children to Certified schools of their own religious denomination. This step had been taken after the Poor Law Board issued an order for the removal of Catholic children from the care of the St Marylebone Guardians, under whose authority attempts had been made to get the children to renounce their Catholic religion. Though the attitude of ultra-Protestant Poor Law Guardians showed little change in the years following 1868, there were indications that the public at large was not in favour of such overt attempted proselytisation of Catholic children. Moreover, as the years went by, more and more Poor Law Unions released Catholic children to attend certified schools of their own denomination.^[4]

Another strategy of Archbishop Manning was to persuade religious congregations in his own archdiocese to open either Certified schools or private orphanages.  Almost every religious congregation within the archdiocese attempted to respond to this request and there was a great burgeoning of private orphanages, especially those founded by female religious congregations for Catholic girls. Under the terms of the Industrial Schools and Reformatories Act of 1886, Catholic children who came before the courts were also sent by magistrates to Catholic Industrial Schools or Catholic Reformatories. The diocese of Southwark followed the example of Westminster and gradually a system of Catholic Certified schools and uncertified private orphanages came into existence south of the river Thames. It was within this context, therefore, that, in 1876, the Presentation Brothers responded to a request from Most Rev Dr Danell, Bishop of Southwark, to take charge of a Certified Industrial School in his diocese. All available records indicate that the school was very successful, not only from the perspective of the Bishop of Southwark, but also in the eyes of the Home Office Inspectors. It should be mentioned that, following the passing of the Reformatory and Industrial Schools Act of 1866, these institutions were placed under the portfolio of the Home Office, rather than that of the Department of Education. Children could remain in these schools until the age of sixteen years.^[5]

As the years went by, St Vincent's, like other Industrial Schools, underwent alterations as relevant legislative changes impacted upon them. Thus, following the Children and Young Person's Act of 1933, staffing allocation became more generous and additional specialised posts were introduced, and St Vincent's, hitherto called an Industrial School, was reclassified as an Approved School. Under the terms of the Children and Young Person's Act of 1969, the designation Approved School was discontinued and St Vincent's was renamed a Community Home with Education. The responsible organisation continued to be the Southwark Catholic Children's Society, formerly known as the Southwark Catholic Rescue Society. The Assisting Authority was the London borough of Lewisham, and the board of management consisted of eight members nominated by the Southwark Catholic Children's Society and four members nominated by the borough of Lewisham. The Headmaster was renamed the Principal and he was allocated two deputies, a Vice-Principal in charge of Education, and a Vice-Principal in charge of Care. There was a generous allocation of teachers and residential social workers, together with secretarial and ancillary staff.^[6]

Since St Vincent's was celebrating its centenary in 1976, I volunteered to do research on the history of the school during the previous hundred years and to produce a centenary record. This was released in May, 1976, under the title, St Vincent's Community Home Centenary Record, 1876-1976 (Dartford: 1976). I also contributed an article on the history of the school to the journal, The Community Home Schools Gazette (June, 1976). Though I was more conversant than most people with the history of St Vincent's, I, nevertheless, found myself inadequately prepared for the post of Head of Care, which I accepted in September, 1976. It so happened that the previous Head of Care, who already had seventeen years service, was being given study leave, and I volunteered to step into to his place during the two years of his anticipated absence. In retrospect, I think this was far from being one of my wiser decisions. As the reader will see in the following pages, the enterprise was a learning experience for me and one in which the intellectual and managerial skills I had earlier acquired, and hitherto successfully used, did not always seem to have practical application.^[7]

 

Treatment of Juvenile Delinquency

While I do not have space here to examine, in any detail, the history of the treatment of juvenile delinquency in Britain, I feel that it is necessary to say a few words about it if the reader is to understand some of the pages that follow. But, before I enter into this discussion, I would like to describe in some detail the organisation of St Vincent's, when I took up a post there in September, 1976. In this article, I refer specifically to my own experience and can vouch for the veracity of what I am writing. In 2008, a book, Please Don't Make me Go, by John Fenton, was published in England. This was a work of fiction, purporting to be based on the experience of the author when a student at St Vincent's twenty years earlier. Though the names of some real-life Presentation Brothers are used in the story, the regime is represented as harsh and the amount of physical punishment purportedly dealt out by the Brothers for disciplinary offenses is, in the light of my personal knowledge and experience, grossly exaggerated.^[8]

Both Certified Industrial Schools and their successors, Approved Schools, catered for large numbers. St Vincent's, for instance, up to the 1960s had 200 students. Following the passing of the Children's and Young Persons' Act 1969, however, larger schools were reorganised into two or more smaller units, usually called Houses. Each House had a House Warden and several residential social workers to care for about 20 boys. Boys from different Houses came together for classes, which, again, were much smaller than usual, generally containing only half a dozen boys, who, following testing, were placed in groups working at approximately the same academic level. While the morning and forenoon was devoted to academic work in the classrooms, there were practical sessions in the afternoon. The trades in which boys received tuition included gardening, painting and decorating, brick laying; carpentry/ woodwork and pottery.^[9]

If their homes were able and willing to receive them, the boys went home for several weeks during the summer, and for a week or two at Christmas and Easter. Moreover, if acceptable to parents/ guardians, the boys also went home for weekends every month. Outside of school time, boys had the usual leisure facilities, including table tennis, snooker, basket ball, tennis, gym work and football. In general, apart from kicking a ball around the yard, and occasional organised games, football was not popular, mainly, I suspect, because it required too much expenditure of energy. Each House also had a minibus at its disposal for trips outside the school. These trips included visits to a local skating rink, occasional discos, together with canoeing and caving expeditions. Arrangements were also made for special tuition for those with specialised hobbies or interests, such as one boy who was a gifted flautist and who had ambitions to play with a classical orchestra. In general, it would be difficult to design a more holistic programme calculated to provide stability, care, education and training for delinquent students up to the age of sixteen years.^[10]

Every student in St Vincent's was placed there by his local social services, after a detailed assessment of his needs. Virtually every student had also passed through the juvenile court, sometimes several times, and had been convicted of some crime. The types of crime, of which the boys had been found guilty, were, in order of frequency; theft and handling; violence against a person; criminal damage; motoring offenses; domestic burglary; robbery; public order and vehicle theft. The children's courts were, in general, very supportive of efforts at the rehabilitation of young offenders, and social services rarely hesitated to fund special tuition for any student interested in preparing for a specialised later career.^[11]

While it is generally acknowledged that the causes of juvenile delinquency are diverse, virtually all authorities agree that the parents and the home are critical in the matter. It is not rare to find that, in the case of single parents, or where both parents are working full time, the supervision of children tends to be neglected. It is also the case, unfortunately, that some juvenile delinquents come from delinquent families, where either a parent or an older sibling has become involved in crime. In such cases, there tends to be a cycle of delinquency, which is difficult to break. Recent research has revealed that 25% of boys and 40% of girls in youth prisons have suffered violence in the home. Similarly, close association with a delinquent peer can also lead to involvement in juvenile crime. Progress or lack of it in school is regarded as a good indicator of a student's social adjustment and close association with a teacher generally has a beneficial effect. Since crime is generally a young man's game, the typical criminal is male and starts at the age of 14 or 15.¹²

Though we do not have the space or inclination to go deeper into the matter here, it must be noted that research indicates a connection between delinquency and mental health. Up to 85% of young persons in prison displayed a personality disorder, while 10% were found to be suffering from psychotic illness. Moreover, boys in prison, in particular those aged 15-17, were eighteen times more likely to kill themselves than their peers in the community.¹³

In tackling juvenile delinquency, there are two general strategies in England and Wales. The first is treatment in the community, which involves putting a child on probation. The other alternative, institutionalisation, is the one concerning which I have some experience. Up to the time of my taking up employment at St Vincent's, institutionalisation was the preferred option of social services for young people in trouble with the law. Gradually, however, doubts began to grow about the suitability of this option from the point of view of both effectiveness and cost. While it would cost ,100,000 p.a. to keep a young offender in prison, and ,42,000 p.a. to keep him in Young Offender's Institution, like St Vincent's, it would only cost ,3,000 p.a. for a one-year Community Rehabilitation Order for the same young person. In the matter of recidivism, recent research has shown that 68% of all young offenders under eighteen years, are reconvicted within one year, while, for boys alone, the reconviction rate is 75% within the same period. While the effectiveness of the programmes at Young offender's Institutions, like St Vincent's, compared to corresponding local community programmes, takes more time and skill to evaluate, the elected representatives of the British public were much more easily convinced by the cost figures. Without any doubt, local community programmes were much cheaper. It is within this context, therefore, that local authorities began to send fewer and fewer juvenile delinquents to Young Offenders' Institutions and these institutions, in consequence, began to close. At the present moment, only 3.4% of all young offenders are placed in residential care. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. We must go back to the position in 1976.¹⁴

 

In the Firing Line

I took up duty St Vincent's Community Home on 6 September, 1976. The following are entries from my personal Diary.

 

26 September, 1976,

'This has been my first weekend on duty (as Head of Care), and it has been an uncomfortable, if not unpleasant experience. The main trouble has been in Augustine House, where the boys have been in a bad mood. Four black boys, Jason, Elroy, Stephens and St Pierre, absconded and the police, according to standard procedure, were notified. Earlier, Ashworth and Harold had absconded from Charles House. Erith Police Station phoned about 11 pm to report that the latter two had been picked up and were in custody. These two were returned by the police about midnight and put to bed.

Sometime after 11 pm, the night watchman, Jonathan, reported that some boys in Augustine House had turned on the fire hoses and had drenched some beds, also flooding the corridor outside the dormitory. This morning, Gerry Browne, the horticultural instructor, reported that some panes of glass in the greenhouse had been broken, apparently with bars of soap, because some bars were found lying around. Boys from Augustine House were suspected.

This morning, before Mass, some black boys refused to go to service because they said that they were feeling 'tired'. Then two white boys said that they wanted to act as acolytes at the Mass, but, when the sacristan informed them that he had already made other arrangements, the first two refused to attend service at all.

 

15 November, 1976

'On Friday, Leroy John, a black boy, had a blow up, and while being physically restrained by the staff, managed to deliver some powerful blows to Walter and Dan, two members of staff, who were trying to restrain him. I was called and, since he was being held in wrestler's lock by Walter, and this could not continue indefinitely, I asked that he be released. Leroy then went on the rampage, running around the house. In the waiting room, he hurled a large glass ash tray at the wall, breaking it in bits. He then broke off a piece of the hat stand and smashed a lovely glass lamp shade with it. We had to send for the police, who removed him at our request. Next morning, he was brought before a magistrate, who remanded him in custody to Latchmere House, a secure Assessment Centre.'

 

29 November, 1976

‘This afternoon, there was a serious incident. Gabriel Charles, a black boy, attempted an assault on Marianne, a white female member of staff. Fortunately, she handled the matter very well, kept her head and getting him out of the room, which was some distance from the main part of the school. Subsequently, she broke down and wept, while I tried to comfort her.    

Later, this evening, in the presence of Oliver and Charles, two senior members of staff, I confronted Gabriel. At first, he tried to pretend that it was all a lark, but, later, he broke down and confessed. This matter will have to go on his report sheet and will probably affect the outcome of a court case that he has pending on Monday next.'

 

Sunday, 16 January, 1977

 

Monday, 17 January, 1977

'Today, one of the boys, Jack Daly, son of an immigrant Irish father, was found with car keys, including a key for a Mini, which, the a member of staff tells me, is Jack's favourite car. Earlier, the woodwork instructor had reported that the door to his secure room had been forced and tins of Evostick were missing. Since Jack and his friend, Bob, were reported missing for a short period, both were suspected of the theft. Jack is also said to use Evostick when he can get hold of it. The boys were questioned separately, and, while Jack denied everything, Bob admitted the theft and added that Jack also had a stolen car stashed in the car park across the road from the school. Apparently, Jack stole the car when returning from a visit home the previous weekend and had parked it nearby in case he wanted to abscond in a hurry. Jack and Bob are both fifteen'. 

 

Sunday, 6 March, 1977

'This morning, James de Silva went on the rampage, after arming himself with two sharp kitchen knives. He demanded his money with a view to absconding. This money is the pocket money allowance that each boy gets every week. Sometimes, there are deductions for breaches of the school rules or for bad behaviour. Earlier, James had seized a billiard cue and had threatened the House Warden in the latter's office. The warden was rescued when one of the black boys came into the office on a personal matter, immediately took in the situation and, on his own initiative, manhandled James out of the office. James then took up his stance outside his House, still demanding his money. Somebody rang for the police, fearing that James might injure either another boy or a member of staff. I was also called and I began to engage James in conversation, assuring him that he would get his money, if he would come to the Head's office. Meantime, the police arrived in a Panda car and James, on seeing them, ran off across the playing field.  A young policeman followed and caught up with James and brought him back. The police then took him away to the regional Assessment Centre.'

PS: James, while still in his teens, was later involved in an armed robbery, during which he killed the watchman on duty. Being a juvenile, James was sentenced to youth prison to be detained 'at Her Majesty's pleasure'.

 

Sunday, 2 July, 1977

'Yesterday, together with a group of boys and staff, I arrived here in a campsite in the Forrest of Dean, Gloucestershire, for a holiday camp. The location is absolutely breath-taking, with the river Wye flowing beside us and Tintern Abbey a mile down the river. The forest seems to consist entirely of broad-leaved trees, many of them, especially the oaks, veritable giants. In the depths of the forest, I have come across charcoal pits. This seems to be a cottage industry here, though it would appear that scrub wood, rather than trees, is used for the fires. The weather is dry and sunny and the ground very hard. I experienced this last night when I lay down inside my tent to sleep, with just a ground sheet beneath me. I never realised how big my hip bones are. Every time I turned over on my side, I felt my hip grating against the hard ground and my body out of sync. A possible solution is to make a hole in the ground, so that my hip will fit comfortably into it, when I lie down to sleep. I look forward to the result of this experiment tonight.

So far, the boys have behaved reasonably well, though their language is bad, if not awful, and no subject seems to be taboo in their conversation. However, they irritate one another more that they do the staff, and I am glad there are no other visitors near us to disturb the boys - or vice versa!'

 

 22 September, 1977

'Last evening, at 6.10 pm, as I was coming out of the oratory, I ran into two senior members of staff who were trying to restrain a very angry Negro boy, George Henry, who had a blood-soaked left shirt sleeve. George had been stabbed with a penknife during a dispute with a white boy, Mark O'Regan. The bad blood between the two had been simmering for some time. Both were big strong, brawny fellows. Fortunately, I had a relationship of sorts with George, since we both played the organ and, on occasions, I would arrange organ practice for him. While he could not read a note of music, it was obvious that he had talent and was a natural musician. Though I was off duty that evening, I volunteered to 'babysit' George. He kept screaming about Mark, vowing that he was going to kill him. The police had to be called and they took O'Regan away, while I drove George to the local hospital, where he was given an injection to relax him and two stitches in the cut in his upper arm. Since he was still upset, I could not return him to his own dormitory, in case he would cause further uproar, so I arranged for him to sleep in a separate room that night. It was late by the time I got to bed myself.'

 

 2 May, 1978

'This evening, I drove Elroy, a delinquent black boy, to his music tutor for his flute lesson. When I learned that he was good on the tin whistle, I arranged that his social services would pay for the cost of a concert flute and regular lessons for him. His tutor tells me that he is gifted, though not always biddable. Nevertheless, over the past year and a half, he has made excellent progress and, if he continues practice, there is a real chance that he will win a place in the local youth orchestra. I have had hints that he appreciates what I have done for him.'

 

20 July, 1978

This afternoon, Elroy, the boy, for whom I arranged the special lessons on the concert flute, came to me with a farewell gift. It was an ash tray that he had made during his pottery classes and inscribed with my name. It was an excellent job, with a beautiful glaze on it and, arguably, good enough to go on the shelf of a gift shop. He also gave me a card, and expressed his thanks for what I had done for him at St Vincent's. Obviously, he had heard that I was finishing work here tomorrow. I was touched by Elroy's gesture. Though he is no angel, and can be a handful at times, he has shown gratitude and appreciation. I asked him to stick at the flute and that I hoped to see him playing with the London Youth Symphony Orchestra in the future. I did not tell Elroy that I had given up smoking, but I will, nevertheless, keep the ash tray as a memento of my time in St Vincent's. I feel that it is a reminder that some good can be done in what are sometimes the least promising situations.'

 

Overall, I was very impressed with the loyalty and dedication of the staff at St Vincent's. In addition to the professionals, who made a career of working in schools like St Vincent's, there were also idealistic people that came for a short period to lend a hand in the rehabilitation of young offenders. I remember two people in particular. One was Taffy Williams, a middle-aged Welshman, who, after spending most of his life running his own business, came to us saying that he wished to take a job where he could >do some good'. An honest, generous and obliging man, he had one weakness that was very difficult to correct. All his life, he seemed to have made his own decisions and solved problems his own way. Teamwork, however, was new to him and long experience had shown that teamwork was the only way to manage the boys at St Vincent's and survive. An operational procedure was laid down by the House Warden, after consultation with staff, and everyone was expected to stick to every detail of this procedure: take, for instance, getting boys out of bed in the morning and getting them down to breakfast at a specific time.

When Taffy's turn came to call the boys in the morning and get them down to breakfast, some boys would be inclined to linger in bed, mainly out of sheer cussedness. Of course, they would try this with most members of staff, but especially with a new member. The normal staff approach was something like that of the typical mother: keep calling in a cheerful and confident voice and the culprit usually gets out of bed, even if reluctantly. Taffy's solution, however, was to bring up a cup of tea to these boys. Of course, this was absolutely taboo and infuriated other members of staff, because a concession given by one member of staff would immediately be demanded of the others. When I, as supervisor, discussed this matter with Taffy, he found it very hard to accept that his random acts of kindness to the boys would have to be done within the context of a detailed policy designed to maintain discipline and good order in the House. He was convinced that little acts of kindness, like an early-morning cup of tea, would bring out better qualities in the boys and help to counteract their random cussedness and, according to some, their inherent viciousness.

Another idea Taffy had was to save his change and to give it to the boys. This, of course, was worse, in fact it could, metaphorically speaking, be dynamite. Much attention was given in each House to collecting money from the boys when they returned from home leave. The money would be kept for them in their account, but they were not permitted to have money in their possession, since it was a vital factor in any boy's preparation to abscond. So, again, I had to ask Taffy to cease this practice. Finally, he came up with something that seemed a workable suggestion. As a Welshman, he was a great rugby fan, and said that he had played this game in his youth. So, all the staff in the House approved his plan to take the boys out for rugby practice. Unfortunately, none of the boys ever played rugby before, so the first practice on the field was chaotic. The boys seemed to think that rugby was a game where you both crashed and lashed into anyone on the opposing team. Taffy blew his whistle and got the boys to face one another in groups of eight for a 'scrum'. The first attempt was another disaster, ending in copious punches being exchanged. Taffy blew his whistle again and said that he would demonstrate how the hooker should operate in a scrum. The two eights got down again and the boy, playing as scrum half put in the ball. Poor Taffy yelled 'push!' to his pack and suddenly seemed to go lifeless. The boys pulled apart and went to help Taffy up, but he lay on the ground without moving. I called a doctor and an ambulance, but Taffy was pronounced dead. A subsequent post-mortem revealed that he had died of a massive heart attack, probably brought on by his efforts in the scrum.

Taffy's death had a sombre effect on the boys and they subsequently came to me to request a Mass for the repose of his soul. This I did and I do not think Taffy, though a life-long Methodist, would have objected, as long as it made the boys happy.

Another character I had to deal with was Tom Cunningham, a university-educated young man in his early 20s, who was a past student of our college in Reading. Tom, a practising Catholic, was very idealistic and asked if he could come and work for free. After a week or so, I found that he was quite useful and could relate well with the boys, so I employed him for the summer holidays. When the end of the month came, Tom did not want to accept his wages, like everyone else, but said, 'Give me a tenner and keep the rest!' He was very unworldly and told me he was trying to detach himself from the use of money. He neither drank nor smoked and all his clothes were purchased in charity shops. When he had to travel, he thumbed a lift.

We could not, of course, keep Tom's wages, so I had to persuade him to accept his monthly cheque and, afterwards, do what he wished with it. He had a good effect on the boys because nothing seemed to faze him and he was always cheerful. At the end of the summer, Tom drifted away and I later learned that he had entered the Carthusians, a semi-hermetic religious Order outside Paris. This order, founded by St Bruno of Cologne in 1084, was first established in the Chartreuse Mountains of the French Alps. The famous drink of that name was, in fact, first made by these monks. The monastery is a community of hermits, each monk living alone in his own little apartment with access to a communal garden. As far as possible, the monks strive to have no contact with the world. Some years later, I learned that Tom had found his true home with the Carthusians and was very happy with them. I was glad that a young man as idealistic and generous as he had found his true vocation.

 

Farewell to St Vincent's

In June, 1978, my two-year contract with St Vincent's Community Home came to an end and the former Vice-Principal (Care) returned from two years of study leave. St Vincent's struggled on for a further four years and then closed in 1982, like several other similar institutions. The entire site, amounting to about 25 acres, excepting one acre for a new Catholic church, presbytery and car park, was sold to a developer. He knocked all the buildings connected with St Vincent's school to the ground and built a new housing estate there. The little cemetery at the corner of the field, where staff and boys were buried from 1876 onwards, was excavated and the interred bones transferred to a new communal grave near the new church.

The change from residential treatment schools, like St Vincent's, to community-based training schemes did not mean that all delinquent young people changed their behaviour. The undoubted advantage the change had was that it cost the tax payer less, or, at least, seemed to do so. At the same time, some social theorists argued that, even if it meant an increase in juvenile crime, which, they contented, was mostly petty, every local community had to absorb a certain proportion of its own delinquency. This, of course, is a moot point and one which we have neither the space nor the inclination to discuss in the present article.¹⁶

 

1876-1881: Joseph Keogh

1881-1883: Austin Shanahan

1883-1889: Stanislaus Cogan

1889-1892: Stanislaus Cogan

1892-1895: De Sales Mehigan

1895-1907: Louis Culhane

1907-1908: De Sales Mehigan

1908-1913: Calasanctius McSwiney

1913-1915: Bruno O'Donoghue

1915-1916: Calasanctius McSwiney

1916-1919: Louis Culhane

1920-1924: Calasanctius McSwiney

1924-1930: Rupert McCourt

1930-1933: Reginald Colman

1933-1939: Dunstan Curtin

1939-1941: Ephrem Murphy

1941-1948: Francis Langan (ext 47-48)

1948-1949: Reginald Coleman

1949-1955: Francis Langan

1955-1956: Dunstan Curtin

1956-1962: De Montfort O'Sullivan

1962-1964: Ambrose Buckley

1964-1970: De Montfort O'Sullivan

1970-1972: Daniel Hogan

1972-1978: Reginald Scanlan

1978-1981: De Montfort O'Sullivan

1981-1982: Richard English (closed and moved to 6 The Brent, Dartford).

 

Headmasters/ Principals, St Vincent's

1876-1881: Augustine Ryan

1881-1883: Austin Shanahan

1883-1892: Stanislaus Cogan

1892-1895: De Sales Mehigan

1895-1907: Louis Culhane

1907-1908: De Sales Mehigan

1908-1916: Calasanctius McSwiney

1916-1919: Louis Culhane

1920-1924: Calasanctius McSwiney

1924-1930: Rupert McCourt

1930-1940: Dunstan Curtin

1940-1956: Francis Langan

1956-1970: De Montfort O'Sullivan

1970-1972: Daniel Hogan

1972-1978: Reginald Scanlan

1978-1981: De Montfort O'Sullivan

1981-1982: Joseph Stinson

(closed 31/7/1982)

 

References