The Bursar: turning visions into reality - Radley College

Lusimus . THE RADLEY NEWSLETTER
Tony Money
Over 250 attended the
Thanksgiving Service at Radley
on Saturday 17th. May for
Tony Money who died on 17th.
January. The addresses were
given by Dennis Silk and the
Revd. Tim Mullins with readings
by Hamish Aird and James
Vyvyan-Robinson. The service
was followed by drinks in the
Mansion and lunch in Hall.
Dennis Silk’s address:
Radley has had no greater friend
in all its history than Anthony
Erskine Money: Tony to us all.
As a boy, as a don, as Honorary
Secretary of the Radleian Society
and President of Common
Room, archivist, author and
games coach, his love of this
place was his guiding star. His
personal qualities were tailormade
for our community. He
had the memory of an elephant
(though not quite its physique),
and that memory focussed
on people and events. An
O.R. wrote: “His ever-present
smiling countenance at Radley
functions, and his encyclopaedic
knowledge of everything
Radleian will be hugely missed,
as will his Christmas card,
faithfully sent to me every year
for 35 years, with a little tit-bit of
Radley news, or his assessment
of the latest development or
appointment. What a lovely man
he was.” That came from an old
member of his Social.
Everything he did was informed
by his innate kindness,
particularly to nervous new
colleagues embarking on their
teaching careers. Without any
shadow of intrusion he made
it his business to give them a
warm welcome to help them on
their way. Many of you wrote
to Jock Mullard on the news of
Tony’s death with memories of
his kindness (that word appeared
in virtually every letter), and
stories of how he had helped
boys and Dons alike to become
acclimatised to Radley. By the
same token those who worked
for College in an ancillary role
the kitchen staff, ground staff,
the gardeners and the secretaries
were all treated with great
courtesy and warm friendliness.
Tony really cared about people,
and it was his Christian belief
that was at the bedrock of his
being.
He will be remembered with
gratitude by many Old Radleians
for founding one of the most
popular and prestigious clubs
in the College, the Grape Vine
Society. Another Old Boy, who
joined it in 1971, wrote of a
visit to Harveys of Bristol under
Tony’s guidance:
“The Society went on its first
(and I believe its only) outing to
Harvey’s of Bristol. Around eight
people had signed up.
After coaching down from
College, we kicked off with a
wine tasting session at 11.30
during which not all boys, well,
very few... possibly none, in fact,
used the spittoons!
After of couple of pre-prandial
sherries, we sat down to lunch
already feeling distinctly lightheaded
and jolly (as we often
did around Tony). Generous
amounts of wine were served
at lunch which gradually spelt
the end of any serious attempt
to undertake the scheduled
afternoon tour of the factory.
Realising that his Society
members had imbibed too
much, too quickly, and were
behaving in an abnormally
high-spirited fashion during
coffee and port, Tony calmly
cancelled the rest of the tour
round Harvey’s and took us
instead to Bristol Zoo, where
he obviously thought we
would feel more at home. I
don’t remember any particular
irritation on Tony’s part, though
he must have felt somewhat
exasperated.” He was indeed a
“Man for all Seasons”.
All these sugary attributes
might make him seem unreal,
but underneath it all was an
entirely gentle and impish sense
of humour, which was given
free reign at the end of each
summer term when he made
his public farewells to leaving
colleagues. As President of
Common Room Tony worked
hard on these “farewells”;
indeed they smelled of the
midnight oil. His timing, in his
speeches, was invariably perfect.
Achilles heels were explored
so gently that the victim could
not but join in the mirth which
greeted Tony’s triple-barrelled
jokes. The points were made,
without hurt, and none of us
escaped unscathed. Tony put
on his most dead-pan voice
without the glimmer of a smile
and we rocked with laughter as
he drew attention to our foibles.
Tony had embarked on a
distinguished career at Trinity
College, Oxford and was
thought to have a good chance
of a First when the war took
him off with the Buffs to North
Africa after two years. He
was not one to talk about his
experiences in the war, but in
winning an immediate award of
the Military Cross in Tunisia he
showed a degree of courage that
was humbling. He was ordered,
as the leader of a platoon, to
take out a cunningly placed
German machine gun post. Not
wishing to risk his men’s lives he
told them to give him covering
fire as he sprinted on ahead up
a steep incline. He almost blew
himself up as he threw his first
grenade. It rolled down the
hill behind him and wounded
him severely in the back. He
ended up grappling with the
last remaining German, the rest
of the gun crew having been
killed or wounded by his second
grenade. The platoon arrived
just in time to consolidate this
vital success and save Tony’s
life. He spent several months in
hospital before recovering and
fighting his way up Italy in that
desperately hard fought and
dangerous campaign. It is often
said that in the whole of the war
in Europe the Italian campaign
was the most hazardous of all.
From 1945 Tony spent ten
years in a broad variety of
schools, aiming, I have always
thought, to get back ultimately
to the Radley he had loved
as a boy, and so it proved.
My predecessor, Wyndham
Milligan, who had a genius for
appointing the right people,
knew a good thing when he
saw one, and he appointed
Tony to head the Geography
department, to teach five other
subjects and to run the Lawn
Tennis and the football (a
Cinderella game in those days).
On top of this his military
experiences were put to good
use in the C.C.F.. It did not
take long for Tony to become
a key figure in the Radley
firmament. He won respect
as a well-prepared teacher
and it was not long before he
became Honorary Secretary
of the Radleian Society, a post
he was to hold for 25 years.
As a daily routine he scanned
the columns of The Times and
The Daily Telegraph to keep
abreast of news of ORs and
few escaped his eagle eye. The
right President of Common
Room is the man who can
make Common Room happy
rather than snappy. He it is
who can, with a quiet word
to the Warden, advise, warn,
commend and suggest. Tony’s
accumulated knowledge of the
College made him the perfect
President. He was backed up in
the OR Office by Sue Brown,
now Sue Van Oss whose roots
were even deeper into Radley
than Tony’s were. She was
born at Radley and her father,
Spot Gardiner, was the longest
serving Don in Radley’s history.
It was through the Appeal that
I came to know Tony really well
and the more I saw him the
more I revered him. My wife,
Diana, together with Micky and
Alison Jones worked together
very happily with Sue on the
Appeal and Tony’s mastery of
detail and wonderfully efficient
“admin” in preparation, were
faultless. I think I can say that
we made a good team, working
for Radley, heart and soul. I
estimate that we motored just
over 7000 miles to 72 Appeal
meetings, from Cornwall to
Edinburgh. We were, of course,
amateurs, but thanks to Tony we
became, almost, professionals.
Best of all for us was meeting a
massive number of ORs many
of whom had, understandably,
lost touch with College. By the
time they had had a generous
plate of Coronation Chicken
and a glass or two of Common
Room cellar’s best vintages their
generosity knew no bounds.
Tony set the tone of each
meeting with an expert review
of the most helpful ways of
giving, and was word perfect for
every one of those 72 meetings.
ORs threw open their homes
to us and Tony answered their
ensuing questions with crystal
clear ease and great wit. On
every one of our trips he sat
on a back seat, bolt upright,
quietly practising his words to
himself. I have to admit that it
was tremendous fun, thanks in
the main to the great esteem
and affection in which Tony was
held by everyone in our travels.
Wherever we went he would
make us laugh, not least when
Sue and Diana were struggling
with the Telegraph crossword.
Tony, who would have finished
the crossword by the time he
finished his breakfast, was thus
in a strong position. “Have you
got 8 across, Tony?” would be
the plaintive cry of our fellow
travellers. “Yes”, said Tony.
“Well what is it?” “I shan’t tell
you”. “Why not?” “Because you
haven’t tried hard enough.”
The Appeal was a great bond
between the six of us and I look
back on it with real nostalgia
and deep gratitude. I estimate
that over nearly two years Tony
wrote, in his own beautiful
hand, in excess of four and a
half thousand letters of thanks.
One final memory of the
Appeal. On a burning July
day we went to a meeting at
the farm of a delightful OR
family, the Dillon-Robinsons
on their lovely Essex farm.
We arrived after a tiring drive
and were delighted to see a
heaven-sent swimming pool.
Tony loathed swimming, but
the heat softened his aversion,
and we persuaded him to
join us in the water. We were
somewhat chastened, having
never seen him stripped to
the waist before, to see that
frail figure with the scars of six
major wounds, some front and
some back. He was obviously
embarrassed but it looked to
me as though some of those
German machine gun bullets
had gone right through his
chest and out of his back. We
never dared to ask.
It would be easy to forget that
Tony was, in fact, a genuine
all-rounder, a wonderfully
generous host, in his day a
keen athlete, and a man who
had the self-discipline to write
extremely interesting articles
and books. He greatly enjoyed
entertaining the OR Golfing
Society and the Radley Rangers
in his Mansion Rooms, but
he also made time to write
scholarly books, the chief of
which was Manly and Muscular
Diversions, a truly fascinating
insight into the origins of our
present day national sports, and
the role of the public schools
in propagating those sports.
How lucky we were to have
such a distinguished researcher
to write, in such detail about
the old Radley Altarpiece, for
instance, and it is no surprise
that the National Archives
Representative who came to
inspect our archives, reported
so enthusiastically of his work
as our Archivist.
So many talents: yet so equable,
so modest, and never out of
sorts. Like the great gentleman
he was. I can honestly say I
never saw him angry in the
thirty nine years I knew him.
He was the most unself-seeking
man I have ever known.
Whenever we visited him in
hospital those who nursed him
spoke of his unfailing good
manners and wish not to be a
nuisance to them. In his final
illness it was good to know
that Tony’s sister, Daphne, and
James Wesson, were there to
minister to him. Tony never
married, but in a very real way
he was a surrogate father to
us all. So it is “Goodbye, Mr
Chips”, and thank you for a job
superbly well done.
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