By Liam Jackson
In the past week, Roar! has discovered the existence of a secret exclusive society at Kingâ€™s College London. We also managed to acquire an invitation into the heavily hidden â€œelite menâ€™s dining societyâ€, named Nos Tuendorum, which translates as â€œWe will keep you safeâ€.
The source (who we have chosen to keep anonymous) has consequently revealed to Roar! the bizarre tasks that invitees have to carry out in order to become part of the Nos Tuendorum club. Speaking exclusively to Roar!, he revealed that the invitee has to complete four stages of a â€˜human monopoly boardâ€™ with success granting him full membership.
He claimed that at one such stage, a note was left telling the candidate to â€œremove your underwear, attach your name tag to your underwear using the pin provided and place in a containerâ€ and to make sure this was done â€œimmediatelyâ€¦ without entering a building or drawing attention to yourself.â€ These peculiar tasks are monitored by one of the current members at locations that have appeared as highly inventive, with one member having to travel to a church on Mark Lane. Once there, he then had to climb â€œThe Tower of All Hallows Stainingâ€. These situations have been met with shock whilst resembling scenes from The Da Vinci Code. The potential members are put through these long-winded games in order to be allowed into the society.
One member, who wanted to remain anonymous, spoke of his first encounter with the society. He described how the society were already privy to his personal details and invited him to a central London park in the middle of the night so that he could retrieve a letter. He then revealed how it was important that he had to travel there alone to gain the next information on his future tasks. He explained to Roar! what would happen if his identity was revealed, stating that he would receive â€œa hangingâ€, which is known in Nos Tuendorum as the most extreme form of punishment. It involves the Speaker at a meeting starting the chant of â€œhang them, hang themâ€ and the criminal being forced to down a pint whilst being held upside down.
When Roar! acquired a copy of the Nos Tuendorum handbook, it held some controversial knowledge on how the freshers are picked. They undergo a â€œbackgroundâ€ check: â€œfreshers can only be considered for Nos Tuendorum if they have attended Public School, Independent School or a top UK Grammar School.â€ Each member can then submit up to five nominations, with clear knowledge that these are picked through sports and societies, from known members in rowing and hockey, as well as the political societies at Kingâ€™s.
Although there is no membership fee for the society, there is a sole accountant for each year group, who ensures the members pay for their meals and drinks. Roar! can only comment, saying that such practices seem very suspicious. Would you be comfortable allowing a person you have never met to manage your accounts?
It was also shown that members who hold a position of leadership become a â€œGentlemen of the Order of Vocatusâ€. These are subsequently toasted at each meet, when the speaker at any time during the night utters â€œvocatus.â€ Membership into the society earns an identification card, with heavy consequences if lost. Neckties are available for purchase in the second year of admission, making members clearly distinguishable around Kingâ€™s campuses and identifiable to the rest of the society.
The name of the society translates as â€œkeep us safe.â€ Safe from what? Safe from mingling with fellow students at Kingâ€™s, the lower class rabble, safe from the big wide world? The big question is who makes these choices? The fact that the identity of older members is hidden, with members only knowing the identities of their younger counterparts, raises eyebrows. Surely most people would feel unsafe from this neglect of knowledge?
This secret society resembles Oxford’s Bullingdon Club, notorious for its members’ wealth and destructive binges. Similarly to Bullingdon, membership in Nos Tuendorum is acquired through invitation only; based not on your Kingâ€™s achievements in sport, charitable activities or academic achievements, but on sheer family wealth.
If we look at similarly grafted clubs like Bullingdon, it can be inferred that a few members of the past academic staff have had ties with this club. Brigadier John Dennis Profumo, the 5th Baron Profumo CBE and former Bullingdon Club member, was a British politician, most known for the Profumo affair in 1963 involving a prostitute. His son, David Profumo also worked at Kingâ€™s and attended Oxford, with our very own KCLA games cup being named the Profumo Cup after him. These revelations could therefore be the start of a long outcry of revealed members.
Could it be that this society has been around for centuries, attended not just by students but by lecturers and College staff alike? Does this society control what happens in the shadows of Kingâ€™s, being involved in the decision-making and policies being developed? Are the rich and the upper-class men holding the strings of the College?
If you have any further information, about the club, you can let us know anonymously here.