When Rev. Benjamin Bayly died in harness after devoting half his life to moulding young minds in London, great tribute was paid him.
"His kindly, genial manner endeared (Bayly) to all who had intercourse with him," The Free Press said in its obituary on
Jan. 18, 1879. Who could ask for a finer send-off?
As touching as all The Free Press and The Advertiser had to say in their printed tributes to the man believed to be Ontario's oldest high school principal at the time of his death, the best was yet to come.
One hundred and twenty-five years ago last week, Bayly's students at the old London Collegiate Institute stepped forward with a tribute of their own.
On July 4, 1879, the last day of classes for the school year, the board of education and other worthies gathered at the institute, now the site of London Central secondary school.
After all the visitors were seated, one of the students came forward. The students wanted the board to accept a gift in honour of the "beloved headmaster." Bayly had been principal at the institute from its opening in the fall of 1878 till his death on Jan. 17, 1879. It had marked the end of a London education career spanning more than 37 years.
The students had commissioned a life-size portrait of Bayly. They wished it to be displayed prominently at the school.
"We beg your acceptance of this portrait and hope that you will allow it to remain in our building as a memorial to his virtues and that by (its) presence among us, we may ever be encouraged to do zealous work," the student said. The board's members readily agreed to have the work, in its handsome, gilded frame, displayed at the main entrance.
There probably wasn't a dry eye in the house. But then who wouldn't want to do their best for the old headmaster? To the end, he cared about his students.
His son, Richard Bayly, told the throng that even on his deathbed, his father had frequently asked after and expressed a deep interest in the welfare of the students.
Born in Ireland and educated at Trinity College, Dublin, Bayly had been a force for good with generations of London students since 1841. He arrived from mission work at Manitoulin Island in the wake of his mentor, Archdeacon Charles C. Brough. The two had met at Oro, near Orillia, after Bayly landed in Canada.
Most of his career was spent at the old Grammar School on King Street. Both The Free Press and The Advertiser credit Bayly with helping guide many of the youths who would become London's leading professional men. He continued his mastership of the school after its amalgamation with the senior division of another, earlier Central School, says historian Archie Bremner.
When the institute opened, Bayly became its principal. It was known as London High School for its first few months of existence at Dufferin Avenue and Waterloo Street. Later, the education minister granted the London board's request to rename it London Collegiate Institute.
As noted, much was made at the time of Bayly's work with young men on their way to becoming doctors or lawyers -- as Richard Bayly did -- or civil servants. Among the government employees grateful for Bayly's teaching was Arthur H. Sydere, who served under nine premiers.
Bayly's teaching was also appreciated by the young women, to judge by the list of students who signed the petition seeking the display of Bayly's portrait.
For all the details of that memorable last day of school, not everything is clear. The name of the painter of the Bayly portrait is, I believe, Mrs. E. E. Springet(t). The last name may be Springer, which would connect her with a teacher of the same name.
Bayly's age when he died is given as 73 in The Free Press obituary, but The Advertiser appears to have him as a "ripe old" 75. Another source indicates he was 78.
Among those most interested in finding out more about the portrait and Bayly is his great-great-granddaughter, who lives in London.
She says she would love to see another depiction of her ancestor. (She's familiar with the one accompanying this column. It is taken from Bremner's invaluable Illustrated London, Ontario, Canada.)
If it graced the walls of Central into the 20th-century, the Bayly portrait may have vanished in the fire that destroyed the old institute in 1920.
The new building opened in early 1922. It is now the main building of Central. Constructed on the same site, the 1920s building faces Waterloo. The institute it replaced had faced Dufferin.
Any information about the portrait's whereabouts -- and you should feel free to use the Bremner illustration included here as a guide to any life-size portraits of persons unknown you have hanging about -- will be passed on to Bayly's London connection.
One thing does seem apparent. When the board of education replaced Bayly, it picked a prig.
The principal who came aboard in February 1879 was one Rev. Francis Checkley. He was apparently from a family prominent in Britain's colonies in the West Indies, a clan rife with clerics.
As all the good vibes and tender thoughts about Bayly were ebbing to a quiet conclusion and the school door was beckoning that early July day, one or two souls still gave way to the urge to be heard.
Checkley was one of the them. The new principal felt it was his duty to say a few encouraging words. He felt gratified to know, The Free Press reported, that his efforts "had not been barren of good results."
Checkley went on. The conduct of the pupils had, on the whole, pleased him very much and although at one time a slight difficulty arose, "No permanent evil resulted." The man could inspire.
Checkley stayed at the helm till 1887. I bet the days just flew by.