TOM
HILTON 1912 – 2006
EULOGY GIVEN BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY OF OLD PRICEANS AT TOM’S
FUNERAL SERVICE 30 JAN 2006 AT THE PARISH CHURCH OF SS PETER AND PAUL, FAREHAM
The last time I was allowed to stand and give public utterance in this church
was almost exactly 60 years ago. I was reading one of the nine lessons in the
school’s carol service. A few hours later I was walking through the school
buildings when I heard a voice say, “You read very well this afternoon, Nobes.”
The voice was Tom’s. Although, of course, he was right, he was the only member
of staff to mention the matter and to give praise to this young and sensitive
lad.
That
was Tom.
And
now I’m here to give deserved praise to Tom, on behalf of us all. It is a
great honour, though I am very much aware that others knew him better, and far
longer, than I.
One of
them is Anne Ashton, who about ten when she first met Tom. She tells how, when
her mother died, Tom was not content with a letter of condolence, but visited
her and George to express his sympathy; and similarly when George died, he
visited Anne. Tom’s was the direct approach, and the personal contact.
Tom Hilton was one of the best
teachers in the old grammar school tradition, devoting almost all of his long
career to the boys of Price’s School, Fareham. Former pupils remember him
as “the best teacher I have ever come across” and “one of the key people in
shaping my life.”
He embodied the perfect balance
of the twinkling eye and the stern gaze; he was always ready to laugh with
pupils, but they always knew exactly when laughter had to stop. His
conversation, until the very end, was lively, amusing and extremely
well-informed; but he listened to others, including the young – an attribute not
universally recognised by staff in the old days. His control in the laboratory
was such that he ventured on experiments that others would not have risked.
He was an explosives expert, and his best-remembered demonstration was the
blowing-up of a sealed can, bits of which would clatter against the laboratory
ceiling, much to the delight of his classes, some of whom, as a result, were
inspired to become notable scientists and members of the medical profession.
Tom had enjoyed a distinguished
school career and became head prefect. He went up to Christ’s College,
Cambridge, in 1930, to read Natural Sciences. He took a good degree, and was
college soccer captain and won colours for cricket. He taught at Kendal School
for a year, and, having qualified, moved in 1935 to Price’s, to George’s
delight, to teach chemistry.
Already commissioned into the
T.A., in 1939 he was called up, and spent the war being officer responsible for
the artillery trials for all three services at Inchture in Scotland. He was
awarded the Territorial Decoration. His return to teaching, together with one
or two other young members of staff who had been called up, brought a breath of
fresh air and liveliness to the school, and helped revive those who had carried
the responsibility of seeing the school through the war. Retaining his army
rank, as Major Hilton he took charge of the Army Cadet contingent at the school.
At last there could again be 1st XI v Staff soccer and cricket
matches. (Tom had been captain of both these games in his own school days at
Colwyn Bay, and victor ludorum, too.) On the football field he made
scintillating runs at great speed. At the end of the first of these fast forays
into the school’s half, he would briefly disappear behind the trees and into the
ditch on the lower side of the pitch, and emerge to run even faster. (He
later admitted to being sick after such violent and unusual exertion.) His
bowling was almost as quick, and he ran up puffing his cheeks in characteristic
fashion. He coached usefully in the nets, and umpired with humorous observations
to the bowler, and sometimes surreptitiously gave words of advice sotto voce
from the corner of his mouth. (One of us here today remembers taking the notable
wicket of a future Hampshire player in a game again Portsmouth Grammar School
after Tom has hissed at him “Appeal, you fool!” when he had not realized that
the batsman was l.b.w.)
Tom was one of the resuscitators
of the dramatic society after its wartime slumbers, and delighted the young
actors by persuading Peggy (whom he had married in 1939) to join other glamorous
staff wives to do the make-up. Later he became housemaster of Westbury. While
other members of staff in the 1940’s and beyond used surnames, or, in the case
of the more daring, nick-names learned from a boy’s friends, Tom used Christian
names. Not only that, but on the first occasion ex-pupils met him after leaving
school, he would say: “Enough of this ‘sir’ business. You know my
Christian name; use it.” That he was Tom was known to all; unlike most
members of staff, he had no cognomen (unless it was “Tommer”) and this was a
mark of the affection and respect in which he was held.
He was Deputy Head of Price’s
from 1963 until his retirement in 1972. By this time the school had grown, and
in particular the sixth form had become much larger and stronger. He carried his
responsibility with the same happy blend of humour and firmness that he had
always shown, and never over-reacted when pupils were referred to him for
disciplinary reasons. (These days the epithet laid-back might be used to
describe his calm approach.) Tom seemed to know everybody, and apparently never
forgot a name or a face, even years after people had left school. For their
part, his ex-pupils never forgot that he had trusted them and their abilities,
and had noticed and praised their achievements.
He and
Peggy celebrated their 65th
wedding anniversary two years ago. They regularly attended Old Priceans’
functions until very recently, and the affection in which they were held was
plain to see at these gatherings. They had a large family made up of the many
pupils of Price’s who had known and admired Tom, and not a few of these enjoyed
a pint (of mild, in Tom’s case) with him in his local after they had left
school. In the Old Pricean grace “we give thanks for the comradeship we have
found in the family of Price’s, and for friends and mentors absent today, though
present with us in spirit.” Tom played an important part in the formation
and continuation of that family.
And now that, for Tom, “the busy
world is hushed and the fever of life is over, and his work is done,” we pray
that he is granted “a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last.”
Tom was the longest-lived of the
staff who taught in those years after the war. The end of an era was marked when
he died peacefully on 11th January, aged 93. To Peggy especially, and
also to their relatives, goes deepest and most sincere sympathy from all who
know them.
Patrick Nobes 30 Jan
06
Ends
The Society of old priceans