A Teaching Phenomenon

There are many people in Norwich in whom the name of F E Smith still strikes a sentimental chord. Not, I hasten to add, that vitriolic, political public figure, but a man as far removed from acrimony as it is possible to imagine.

Fredrick Ellrington Smith was an artist by profession, and a supreme practitioner in the art of living. When he died, at the age of 95 in 1961, he had filled his life with activities so diverse that he well merited the wonder “that one small head could carry all he knew.” Born in Louth, Lincolnshire, in 1866, he lived through the reign of six Kings and Queens. Son of a shipbuilder, and grandson of a ship’s carpenter, 6th in a family of 6 sons and 5 daughters, he inherited his father’s craftsman skills and acquired many others.

After schooling, he remained as a pupil teacher at his Church of England school in Louth, but left to become a student at Peterborough College. In the two years he spent there, his art studies were varied by incursions into sport. He not only played football for his college, but also rowed in a college 4 on the day of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee.

His move to Norwich came in 1888, when he became teacher in general subjects at Quayside School, then in a decidedly slum area: but he was given charge of art education at the Higher Grade School in 1890, four more girls schools being added to his list  two years later. He was also appointed assistant art master at Norwich Art School, serving 20 years in that capacity, and knew Sir Alfred Munnings as a pupil. His enthusiastic teaching methods bore fruit when he became “peripatetic” art master to all Norwich’s elementary schools a task which occupied him for 40 years.

Here it was that the writer came under his aegis and made the acquaintance of this extraordinary man. Under his “man in the street” exterior, he emanated a glow of excited interest in everything that surrounded him, and communicated this zest for life to pupils in no small measure. We accepted his art as we accepted the man, but little did we know of the vast erudition and complex experience that lay behind that thoughtful forehead. When he retired from teaching, in 1931, the schools lost a luminary in every sense.

His other interests where varied and far- reaching. A baritone of note, he approached singing with the same effervescent exuberance, and was a member of the Princes Street church choir for 60 years. Amateur drama attracted him, and he played Shylock several times. Skating, cooking, gardening, calligraphy, botany, leather-working, photography, versifying and illuminating he took them all in his Catholic stride, taking great satisfying gulps from all of these activities.

He even did his public duty as a Volunteer for 16 years. Nothing in life escaped him and he drew strength from its infinite variety. Strength that did not desert him even in his 94th year, when he was still guiding visitors round his beloved Norwich, having been one of the first to do this 30 years before. Lucky the visitors who had him as mentor. Every nuance of life intrigued him and he went at it bald-headed, but with intelligence and craftsmanship. An avid supporter of Norwich City F.C. he acted as voluntary helper at the club for 39 years. It was hard to reconcile his portly frame (he bore a pronounced physical likeness to Peter Ustinov) with the role of competent gymnast. A fine swimmer, in 1905 he received the Royal Humane Society’s award for saving a drowning person at Gorleston.

But it was his enormous zest for life and laughter that kept him boyish and youthful in outlook for all of his mature years of dedicated and selfless service. His appearance at any school was always an exciting event for the children; he made no secret of his love for them and they reciprocated with boisterous affection. Apart from his art instruction, this modern Hans Andersen told them stories – the Jungle Stories were a favourite- and intrigued everyone with his wizardry and superlative skill in paper cutting. He could turn out gnomes, fairies and butterflies in a matter of seconds to amuse his class, and often cheered a disconsolate child as a special case.

It would be difficult indeed to meet anyone who found his vocation more satisfying and enjoyable. His famous “Dream Pagoda,” started “for a lark,” took him 2 years to finish. Full of intricate details in action pictures in miniature, it showed a make-believe world and cocked a snook at solemnity.

How can anyone who knew him ever forget his charm, his humanity and his perfect
understanding of the young?

Ralph Potter
EDP
Circa 1974