Formation of The Old Frees' Association

The Old Frees' Association was founded on this day, 102 years ago. On 17th April 1923, the inaugural general meeting was held at the Penang Chinese Town Hall on Pitt Street, where prominent local lawyer Yeoh Guan Seok was elected as the Association’s first President.

Serving alongside him on that first committee were Khoo Sian Ewe and MHM Noordin as Vice-Presidents, Khoo Heng Kok as Secretary, Tan Kiar-Lew as Assistant Secretary, Dr Ong Huck Chye as Treasurer, Ooi Thean Soo as Auditor, and E Mahomed Hashim as Sports Captain. The other elected committee members were Harold Cheeseman, Husein Hasanally Abdoolcader, Quah Beng Kee, Lim Keong Lay, Ong Boon Swee, Samsudin, Dr Lim Guan Cheng, and Dr A.O. Merican.

Recently uncovered from the collection of a prominent Old Free in Penang was an incomplete copy of the Penang Free School Magazine (Vol. VII No. 3), published in April 1923. Only the first eight pages have survived, but among them was a valuable account of a preliminary meeting held on 20th February 1923 to discuss the formation of an Old Boys’ society.

As recorded in Centenary—the commemorative publication released in 2023 to mark the Association’s 100th anniversary—the Straits Echo (mail edition) reported on 27th February 1923 that “about a hundred Old Free School boys attended the meeting.” The school magazine version of the report, reproduced from the Pinang Gazette and Straits Chronicle dated 22nd February 1923, was nearly identical in content, with only minor corrections to names and spellings. Here is the School Magazine version:

Old Boys' Association to be Formed

The question of forming an Association of Old Boys of the Penang Free School was fully discussed at a largely attended meeting held in the Chinese Town Hall, on 20th February, 1923. 

Amongst those present were the Hon Mr Yeoh Guan Seok, (in the chair), Messrs Quah Beng Kee OBE, J Gawthorne, Ooi Thean Soo, Gopal Das, S Manicram, Dr Lim Guan Cheng, Dr Merican, RH Pinhorn, HR Cheeseman, DR Swaine, HH Abdoolcader, Khoo Heng Kok, MA Bakar, Tan Kiar Lew, Quah Beng Hoe, Hamid Khan, MHM Noordin, SMO Merican, Chee Kok Fee, Ho Hup, Khoo Thay Jin, Khoo Sian Ewe, Lim Keong Lay and Md Eusoff.

The Hon Mr Yeoh Guan Seok said that as they all knew why they were there it was needless for him to detain them long to explain the reason for the meeting. It had been agreed that an Old Frees’ Association should be formed. It had recently been stated that all the English public schools had “Old Boys’” societies, which did excellent work in fostering the traditions of their schools, maintaining touch between the old boys and the teaching and governing bodies and enabling their members to render one another mutual help and assistance. But it was not necessary to go so far afield to find an example, The Anglo-Chinese School Union had been in existence in Penang for some time and had thoroughly justified its existence.

Many of Penang’s most distinguished citizens are “Old Frees”: the school enjoyed a fine reputation far outside this Settlement; and any ex-pupil ought to be proud and happy to belong to an association which would enable him to keep up his connection with the comrades of his youth and the place where he received his education. On the more material side, also, such a link was badly needed and should prove of real value. He also pointed out that there were many of Penang’s distinguished citizens, who were Old Frees in Ipoh and he had received the following telegram from an Old Boy in Ipoh. “Best wishes for success Old Frees’ Association.” Mr Tan Kean Lew had also received a letter from a distinguished Old Free from Sungei Patani in which he stated he hoped for and looked forward to the success of the meeting. As they had all agreed that an association should be formed the next thing to be done was to propose certain resolutions.

Mr Yeoh Guan Seok then proposed the following resolutions:-

1. That an Association be formed of all Old Frees and Masters of over 5 years’ service;

2. That all persons present at this meeting shall be original members of the Association;

3. That the name of the Association shall be Old Frees’ Association;

4. That membership of the Association be confined to Old Frees and Masters of 5 years’ standing;

5. That Mr Khoo Heng Kok be appointed Hon Secretary (pro-tem) of the Association; and that Messrs Khoo Heng Kok, HR Cheeseman, and Tan Kiar Lew be appointed a provisional committee to draft rules for the Association;

6. That such draft rules be submitted to an adjournment of this meeting;

7. That the officers of the Association be elected at the adjourned meeting;

8. And that this meeting do now adjourn to a date to be announced later in the newspapers.

Mr Quah Beng Kee said that after what the Hon Mr Yeoh Guan Seok had said in favour of the formation of the association he had not think it was necessary for him to take up any more of their precious time. He hoped they would support the resolutions put before them which he had much pleasure in seconding.

After these resolutions had been carried, the Chairman added, the meeting would be adjourned to a later date when the provisional Committee would submit draft rules. After the passing of these rules the officers would be appointed to put the association on a legal basis.

The meeting terminated with a vote of thanks to the chair.

 

An excerpt from History of Penang

In 1903, the Straits Echo ran an interesting series on History of Penang over several months. This extract from the copy of 16th November will be of interest to historians and possibly anyone who had studied in Penang Free School.

During the establishment of the Presidency in 1805 there arrived in Penang a schoolmaster named Thomas Callum, whose duties apparently appertained to teaching the children of the European and Government officials, while the general public was not provided with educational facilities.

The Rev. R.S. Hutchins, one of the first Chaplains of the Presidency, appears to have been much impressed with the state of affairs with reference to the non-education of native children, and on his representations to Government an influential committee was appointed to convene a public meeting to discuss the advisability of opening a school for the education of native children.

A meeting was duly held on the 10th of January, 1816, and on the 0th of the following month the following resolution was published in the form of an "Address to the Public," setting forth the advantages of education, and at the same time soliciting subscriptions for the founding of an educational establishment.

The public responded with $9,937 that year; the Government added $1,500 in the year following to $300 subscribed by the public; and Government gave an annual grant of $2,400.

The school was first opened on October 21st 1816 - the anniversary of Capt. Light's death - in a rented house in Church Street. It was called the Free School, as it was intended for the reception of all classes of children.

The fees, which went to the Funds, were finally fixed at three rates, i.e., $3, $2 and $1 per mensem, and hildren whose parents were poor and could not afford to pay were exempted from payment, but all children had to be nominated before they were admitted to the school.

The salary of Mr. Cox, who had charge of the establishment and who came over from Madras, was fixed at $80 per mensem.

Malays, Chulias, and Hindoos who did not desire that their children should learn English could have them instructed in their own language.

A Girls' School was started the following year, but was afterwards discontinued, owing to lack of support, and was suspended until such time as sufficient funds were available for establishing a female Orphan Institution for boarding and educating at least 20 girls, instead of a day school used by only a few girl pupils.

At the first annual general meeting, held in October 1817, it was announced that the Government, now under Colonel Bannerman, had granted to the School a piece of land adjoining the new Church (St. George's). Lieutenant Smith, of the Royal Engineers, drew a plan for a suitable building to accommodate 100 boys and 50 girls, but for economical reasons he was compelled to refrain from adding any architectural ornamentation to the central block of the present school houses, which were built by a Chinaman, whose tender for $6,500 was accepted in December 1819; the School houses, however, eventually cost $7,208.

The Free School spirit

While the Occupation of Penang by the Japanese military ended officially on 15 August 1945 with the surrender of the Japanese in the Pacific basin, Penang Free School reopened only on the fourth of October. The first post-War Speech Day passed by without the usual ceremonies associated with the occasion but for the School's 130th anniversary in October 1946, Sir Edward Gent, who was the Malayan Union's first Governor, attended together with Harold Cheeseman who was by now the Director of Education. In his speech, Cheeseman reflected on his experience during the Occupation and delivered an address which could perhaps be his most personal tribute to the Free School:

I am down, on the official programme, to speak as the Director of Education. Twenty years in Penang, 15 of them at this School, forged for me enduring links of service and of affection and during the 19 years that have passed since I was transferred from Penang these links have been strengthened rather than weakened by the passage of years. So I make no apology for addressing you today not in my official capacity but as one who belongs to the Penang Free School.

It gives me a great thrill to be enjoying a privilege. I little thought I should again enjoy, to be speaking once again to Free School boys on a Free School Speech Day. The first 21^st October I had in Penang was the 21^st October 1907 and from that day to this wherever I have been I have never failed to celebrate this anniversary. Wherever I have been. Even in Changi Prison. Old Frees did not forget the 21^st October. And year by year they celebrated it with a never-failing, indeed an ever-growing, confidence that the day would come when the School would again be in a very special sense the Free School with all its ancient rights and privileges restored.

I shall never forget the march of the internees in Singapore to their place of internment. A little group of Old Frees collected, seeking to help me with my baggage. They were fiercely repulsed by our guards. But throughout that march the little group kept appearing and re-appearing on the route, silent messengers of sympathy. And when we were in prison, Old Frees by underground channels effected contact with us and until the Double Tenth in 1943 smuggled in food, money and clothes for us.

And after the Japanese surrender, when visitors came to our internment camp, a contingent of Old Frees arrived and took part in those reunion scenes of indescribable enthusiasm. It seemed to me that every Old Free in Singapore must have come, each one bearing a gift. Some of them had a little difficulty in recognising me: they were looking for 15 stone, not seven.

What accounts for this Free School spirit that so influences and binds together those who have been in this school? It is not due to this building or this site for it existed long before these. It is not due to its large enrolment for we know that mere numbers mean little. It is not even due to its wonderful record of examination success. It is due to a variety of factors that I do not propose to attempt to enumerate. But it is fitting that we should remember today one who exercised a very powerful influence in the creation of the Free School spirit.

We know the driving force, the man who was behind that little school founded on October 21, 1816 in that insignificant building in Love Lane, abutting on the playground of the present Hutchings School. It was the Rev. R.S. Hutchings. He was a man of great educational vision. He wanted not merely an English School but a school in which boys could learn their mother tongue.

He introduced practical subjects into the curriculum and even had a trade school section. He was so far in advance of his times that his programme sounds more like a post-war programme for 1946 than a programme for 1816. Only one part of his programme was fulfilled, only one part was final and enduring – the English school, the Penang Free School.

Years ago as I pieced together from our scanty records, now unfortunately destroyed, the fascinating story of the growth and development of this school, I felt that the influence of this man was beyond measure. It was largely due to him that this school started with a background of high ideals and of a noble purpose. It was so started. It has so continued. We must be worthy of this great heritage and with a purpose born of pride and an effort born of determination seek to ensure for our School a future no less glorious than its past.

Dr Ong Chong Keng

From the Penang Free School Magazine of November 1931 (Old Series, Volume XI Number 4), there was published this speech by Dr Ong Chong Keng, the representative of The Old Frees' Association, who was speaking at the Free School's Speech Day on 21 October 1931. Ong was a medical doctor who later turned politician and sat in the Federal Legislative Council of Malaya, For his very vocal views that the Chinese would be loyal to the future Federation of Malaya, Communist elements ambushed and killed him somewhere in the Perak Road area of Penang island on 31 August 1948. Nine years later on 31 August 1957, Malaya would achieve her Independence from the British. Ong Chong Keng would have been visibly chuffed by that.

About a week ago, when I was invited to be the speaker for the Old Frees, I felt at first that I was not sufficiently distinguished to assume such an important role. But on subsequent thought, I discovered that I possess one great distinction: a distinction which took me a decade of sustained perseverance to earn, and that was, the distinction of having studied at the Penang Free School. (cheers). That distinction of being an Old Free was not the monopoly of a selected few. Our school is exactly 115 years old today. And, as each year, for 115 years, boys passing out of the school into the ranks of the Old Frees, the distinguished company of Old Frees is an exceedingly big one. Indeed, it might almost be said that the sun never set on an Old Free. (cheers). But it is the distinguished company of Old Frees, not the company of distinguished Old Frees, which is a big one. (applause). I am addressing you from that platform - not as one of the distinguished Old Frees, because I am not distinguished, at least not yet, (laughter and applause) - but as one of the distinguished company of Old Frees. 

During this time that I am privileged to inflict my speech on you, I hope to be pardoned if I should show a strong partiality for “those brave old days beyond recall”, and indulge in reminiscences of my old school days. 

I left school one day in March 1923, and as this building was not occupied until 1928, I was one of that last batch of Old Frees who had all our schooling in those old buildings which now house Hutchings School. More than eight years has elapsed since I first became an Old Free, and there is not the slightest doubt that the school has progressed in every direction during the past eight years. Perhaps the great progress was noticeable in the additional facilities now provided for study and for play. 

The school now has a beautiful meeting hall where the boys meet every morning. In the old days the tiffin shed functioned as the meeting hall on those occasions when Mr Pinhorn, the then Headmaster, wanted to address us and to warn us from committing any of the three serious crimes – (1) jeering at our rivals in the Inter-school athletic competitions for the Glugor Shield, (laughter); (2) throwing fruit skins all over the school playground during the fruit season, (loud laughter); and (3) giving vent to our artistic and other less commendable feelings by caricaturing our enemies, usually the masters, on the walls in the seclusion of the closet. (renewed laughter). 

You now have well-equipped laboratories, which you can conduct your experiments in Physics and Chemistry. Those days we had no laboratories and our practical Chemistry was chiefly, if not solely, confined to the mixing together of various coloured solutions in test tubes. Now you have new desks with unblemished tops. The old desks had holes, through which we read surreptitiously those doubtful but exciting classics which had gone, and still went, under the picturesque name of Penny Dreadfuls. 

In the field of sports too, there have been vast improvements. The playing field of today is many times the size of the old one. All the present footballers of the school wear boots, while most of old brigade prided themselves on our invulnerable feet, and played all our games bare-footed. (laughter). The cricketers today present a striking and stylish picture as they go in to bat, complete with cap, gloves, pads, and flannel trousers. Their predecessors wore the thickest sun helmets they could find to give their heads protection from the ball. (laughter) They never had any gloves on, and if they did put on pads at all, they usually put on one only, and more often than not, that one pad was put on the leg farthest removed from the bowler. (loud laughter). 

You may laugh at our backwardness and you may be amused at our primitivity. I have endeavoured to give a few glimpses of what school-life was like in my time. Recollections of pleasant incidents always give rise to a feeling of sadness, of regret that they can now be nothing more than just pleasant memories; and we treasure every little memento which reminds us of those happy days which had been, and every little souvenir which links the present to the past. 

An old boy revisiting his old school take only a superficial, if indeed any, interest in the new building, the new laboratory, and the new gymnasium put up since his day. What he wants to see are the same old building, the same old classrooms, and of course, the same old masters. When he roams round the school, his eyes would want to rove over the school walls in the effort to discover that particular patch of ink smudge for which he was responsible, and for which he received three strokes. 

He would prick up his ears to hear the same old school bell, the tones of which, could he but hear them, would at once recall to his mind that old, almost ancient servant of the school, Imam, who served the school so faithfully and so well for so many, many years. Imam had gone the way of all flesh, and though a snobbish world will not dream of erecting a memorial tablet to the memory of a mere peon, he will always lie enshrined in the heart of every Old Free as the typical example of Loyalty itself.

The heavy hand of death had also removed the most important figure that has ever appeared on the local staff of the school. The number of Old Frees who have sat at the feet of the late Mr Koay Thean Chin must be legion, and the death of one whom we have learnt to regard as a permanent fixture of the school was a great blow to us all. A schoolboy, whilst still attending school, regards his master as a mixed assortment of tyrants and freaks. (laughter). But no sooner had he left school, than the soft haze of retrospect puts a halo round the head of every teacher who taught him.

Mr RH Pinhorn was a terror to us all. Every approaching thump of his foot on the school stairs- it was a characteristic thump to those who heard it – put the fear of death into our juvenile hearts. (laughter). We now know that Mr Pinhorn was a perfect gentleman in every sense of the word. Mr Heng Kok has given you a full account of his services to the school, and I shall not weary you by repeating this year what you heard last year. (applause). 

Mr Hamilton looked so ferocious to us that we christened him the Old Tiger. Whenever we heard hisorder ‘Stand on your hind legs,” we knew that we were in for a grueling mathematical catechism, which was frequently enlivened by resounding slaps on the cheek. Now we marvel at the forbearance and patience which Mr Hamilton showed us, and we likened his slaps unto the kisses of the saint on the cheek of the leper. (applause). 

Mr Eckersall was another forbidding schoolday figure, and his sharp tongue used to lash us like a whip. He taught us mathematics, but I learnt a good many expressive English words from him. For example, I never knew what a “lout” was, until I came under him. He used few words, but he chose them well. (loud laughter). When he wanted to put one of us up on the bench, he merely barked out the one word “mount.” Now, whenever we think of Mr Eckersall, our hearts well over with thankfulness for all the kindness that we have received at his hands. (applause). 

Mr Swaine taught us History and Latin. As a medical man, I have not come across a more potent soporific than Latin, (laughter) and even as a school boy, I was grateful to Mr Swaine for permitting me to slumber peacefully in his class (laughter). What Latin I knew (I know none now) was learnt by my subconscious self. His long association with the Free School was rudely interrupted, we hope not actually terminated, a few years ago. We regard Mr Swaine as the property of the Free School, and we shall deem it a gracious favour if the authorities will return him to us one day, as our Headmaster. (applause). 

Mr Arnold taught us French and Geography. He was always very polite, and his unruffled smoothness was sometimes the exasperation of us all. I was not noted for my punctuality, and one morning I arrived late at Mr Arnold’s French class. He greeted me with these words, uttered with a smiling face and with all the suavity conceivable, “I was afraid that I would not have the pleasure of seeing you this morning. And, if you persist in keeping me in this suspense every morning, I regret that I shall be forced to deny myself the pleasure of ever seeing you again in my class.” (loud laughter). Needless to say, if I ever failed to come early again, it was not for want of trying. Mr Arnold now stands high in the educational world of Malaya, and for every success gained, he has the heartiest congratulations of the Old Frees. (applause). 

What English I know now, I owe to a lean, young Englishman whom we called “Orang Keju.” (cheers). He left us about 10 years ago, but Cheeseman House perpetuates the memory of a name which is synonymous with the progress of the school during the first 20 years of the twentieth century (applause). 

Mr Hamid Khan was another of the old masters who had been taken away from the Free School. His name was always coupled with that of the late M. Koay Thean Chin for honorable mention by Mr Pinhorn at every prize-giving day. He is still going strong, and apart from a slight whitening of his moustaches, he looks today exactly the same as he did 20 years ago. On behalf of all his old pupils, I wish him “panjang umoh.” (applause). 

Two native masters who have taught me, still remain on the present staff of the school. They are Mr Koay Kye Teong and Mr Ng Cheong Weng. It is a source of great gratification to us that they are both drawing super-scale emoluments. These two masters together with a few other native masters of the school provide the only link which connects this Free School of Green Lane with the old Free School of Farquhar Street. 

An old boy who had spent all his school career at Farquhar Street will look in vain for a familiar face in the entire European staff of the present school. “All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.” Father Time has removed a few of them. We cannot help that. The Educational Gods have transferred the rest to other places. 

We are always proud of our tradition. We flatter ourselves that a boy in going through the Free School acquires certain individuality, a certain outlook on life, a certain bearing and behaviour, which is characteristic of the Free School. We believe that every boy who passes through the Free School mill must be impressed with the Free School stamps. But, if the European staff of the school is always changing, if it undergoes a complete metamorphosis every five years, if it is composed of masters whose longest connection with the school is a paltry period of four to five years, when they have boys under them who have been in school for a longer length of time, where is that continuity without which tradition is as empty as a shadow. It is a pity that we could not transplant the old school buildings from Farquhar Street to Green Lane but surely, the authorities can, if they only want to, allow us to retain a fairly constant staff. An absolutely constant European staff, I am aware, is an impossibility due to the exigencies of leave and promotion. 

Our past history of 115 years outshines that of any other school in Malaya and equals that of any other school in the East. We have a unique foundation of tradition and the educational authorities will be failing in their duty if instead of building on it, they destroy it. We studied at the Penang Free School as our fathers and our fathers’ fathers did before us; and this great Free School tradition is as real and means as much to us as the Oxford or Cambridge tradition to Oxford or Cambridge graduates. We consider it nothing short of sacrilegious that this school should bear the venerable, almost sacred, name of Penang Free School, when no attention is paid to its glorious past and no attempt is made to foster its individuality. 

You, boys, are the heirs of this great tradition. You have inherited a ready-made past, more wonderful than any you can have made to order. The responsibility of fashioning the present and to a less extent, the future, lies in your hands. I am confident that you will make a good job of it. In concluding I want to ask every one of you to be proud that you are a Free School boy. “I am a Roman, a citizen of no mean city,” was a proud Roman boast. May everyone of you glow with equal pride when you say “I am a Free School boy, a member of no mean school.” (loud and prolonged applause).