The sounds of violin practice drift across the grounds of Australasia's largest all-boarding school, barely audible for the cicadas' racket. Up the hill, boys in grey uniforms clatter between classes, knock-kneed, jostling. Principal Donald MacLean is strolling over the lawns, listing his reasons for pride in Dilworth School's first century
- academic excellence, sporting prowess, and best of all, only a handful of old boys have sent their own sons back to be educated here.
For although this place of shade and hush looks as expensive as any of the neighbouring private schools, Dilworth is an entirely charitable institution which grants full residential scholarships to promising boys from poor or struggling families. Unlike other boarding schools, it does not want generation after generation from the same family - rather, the goal is to create "good and useful citizens" and send them into the world independent.
Dilworth School, beneath the slopes of Mt Hobson in Epsom, inner Auckland, is philanthropy in practice. It opened in 1906 with a £100,000 bequest from businessman James Dilworth, who left strict instructions that his farm be converted to a school for orphans and underprivileged boys.
The Anglican-based school's 4000 alumni include vice-royalty, politicians, academics, teachers, lawyers, athletes, musicians and assorted other high achievers - although a few have strayed into disreputable fields like journalism.
"There is so much to be proud of," says MacLean, who will this week host centenary celebrations for present and former students and their families, including a haka by all 550 students, public open days, a thanksgiving service and centenary dinner.
"We're trying to give these boys an aiding hand to overcome a disadvantage, whatever that might be - the loss of a parent, financial hardship, or some other difficulty. We've been going 100 years and we've probably only had the sons of four old boys, and technically speaking, that's a success story."
He says there is no shame in sending a boy to Dilworth, "but if we can break the cycle of disadvantage, that's a wonderful thing. We want to give these boys a chance to compete in the same world as every other kid who goes through secondary school in New Zealand".
Head prefect Duran Moy, 17 ("I'm named after the boxer, not the band") has been at Dilworth since the age of nine. "My mates and I have been together all that time, and in a way it feels like they're my brothers now.
"We don't even have to say 'hi' when we come back from weekends. It's just 'Where's my socks?' We have our playful scraps, like brothers, but I've gotta say the fact that we're all here on scholarships creates a really good spirit. We're all in it together," Moy says.
Dilworth's present and past students speak about the school with a certain melancholy tenderness. It's a combination of pride, gratitude, and the private sadness of difficult family circumstances and, for the older old boys, the remembered trauma of frequent floggings and over-boiled cabbage.
Historian and former cabinet minister Dr Michael Bassett recalls waking at 6.50am each day to a bugle blast which heralded the compulsory ice-cold bath, "shivering like fury in a line of naked kids, in and out of the bath in a matter of seconds".
"My father died when I was eight, so my mother was left with three children under nine and completely dependent on the widow's benefit," says Bassett, who attended Dilworth from 1948, aged 10, to 1952. "I was caned 12 or 14 times over four years, but that was very much on the low side [compared to others].
"There was one boy who used to carve a tiny nick in his belt every time he got caned. The belt eventually fell in half, he nicked it so much, counting his canings. In fact, he became a very good, competent accountant when he grew up."
Bassett credits the school with creating his love for music, current affairs and language. His admittedly "a bit toffy" accent is the result of Dilworth's elocution lessons.
As a homesick 8-year-old, former prime minister Mike Moore ran away from Dilworth so frequently that his mother and the school eventually agreed he should be withdrawn. "I missed the countryside, I missed my mother, and I think I was probably a selfish, self-centred little shit. I didn't appreciate how difficult it was for her after my father died, with three kids under 10," Moore says.
"I remember little things, how it taught me to be on my own for long periods, how to spit and polish shoes, the wonderful library which was a great place to escape to and read, the humiliation of not having your own clothes to play in and having to play in school uniform. Dilworth is a big idea, a good idea. We don't get that kind of philanthropy from wealthy landowners now.
"To the parent who thought 'I'm in the shit, I can't handle this', it was a great gift, being able to give the child a fair go. I regret that I haven't done more for the school, but I have a debt of honour to the place and I'm getting more involved."
The floggings were stopped in 1979 by then principal Dr Murray Wilton, a former student, who ordered all canes to be consigned to the archives. Wilton, who since his retirement in 1997 has been interviewing hundreds of Dilworthians for his forthcoming "warts and all" official history The Dilworth Legacy, says the school is unique in Australasia.
"The recipe is so successful it is a great shame there are not a few more benefactors, or a wise government that could see the benefit of supporting more schools of the same mould," says Wilton.
The Dilworth Trust Board spends an annual $12 million running the school, funded largely by landholdings around Auckland, including the sites occupied by posh European car firms along Great South Rd near the school.
"I would love Dilworth to be seen as a catalyst for some other philanthropist to think of creating something similar, to follow this example," says Trust Board chairman John Potter, former chairman of Nestle New Zealand and an old boy.
"We really believe Dilworth gives not just the boys but also their families an enormous lift; it can enable parents to get back to work or back into education."
Each year, between 500 and 600 families apply to have their sons educated at Dilworth, but the school can only accommodate about one in six - an immensely difficult choice, Potter says.
Year 10 student Alex Prenter, 14, recalls as a 9-year-old being terribly homesick for his Otahuhu family, even though his two older brothers were also at the school. "Lonely, alone, left ... it was always so hard to come back from holidays. I missed my mum so much, but you get used to it. Now, there's a really special bond with my friends."
Principal MacLean has spent his nine-year term focusing on making Dilworth a happy school, creating a peer mediation scheme where senior boys are trained to negotiate disputes among younger students, and educating all students to identify and resist bullying.
Now, MacLean says he thrills at each year's final assembly to see all the boys - even the big tough First XV rugby players - weeping with filial tenderness.
"Kids now tell me how much they appreciate the place while they're still here, whereas 10 years ago they wouldn't realise they had enjoyed it until a year or five after they left," MacLean says.
Dilworth School will be open to the public next Friday, 1.30pm-3.30pm and Saturday 9am-noon, and all are welcome to attend a thanksgiving service at Holy Trinity Cathedral, Parnell, on Sunday, March 12, at 7pm.
Founding father
The Dilworth Trust Board is one of New Zealand's largest charities, created in 1894 by the bequest of industrialist and farmer James Dilworth, born in Country Tyrone (in modern-day Northern Ireland) in 1915.
Dilworth left his farmlands and entire fortune (worth around £100,000) for the creation of a "Dilworth Ulster Institute" to provide education for orphans and the sons of poor families, "to enable them to become good and useful members of society".
The trust's sole beneficiaries are the 550 students of Dilworth School's junior and senior campuses, who each receive a scholarship covering all accommodation, education, uniforms, sporting and musical pursuits, at an annual cost of around $12 million.
A who's who of Dilworth old boys
* Sir David Beattie, Governor-General (1980-85) and Supreme Court justice
* Mike Moore, Labour Prime Minister (1990) and cabinet minister; World Trade Organisation director-general (1999-2002)
* Dr Michael Bassett, historian and Labour minister (1984-90)
* Professor Guy Dodson, scientist and fellow of Britain's Royal Society and his twin brother Professor Emeritus Maurice Dodson of the Department of Mathematics, University of York
* John Potter, former chairman Nestle New Zealand
* Garth Tapper, painter and his engineer brother Peter Tapper, senior executive and board director of energy companies including Shell
* Brendhan Lovegrove, comedian, and his brother, singer Darryl Lovegrove
Boys to men at Dilworth
Alex Prenter (left) and head prefect Duran Moy alongside a statue of the school's founder, James Dilworth. Picture / Martin Sykes
The sounds of violin practice drift across the grounds of Australasia's largest all-boarding school, barely audible for the cicadas' racket. Up the hill, boys in grey uniforms clatter between classes, knock-kneed, jostling. Principal Donald MacLean is strolling over the lawns, listing his reasons for pride in Dilworth School's first century
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