Fr David Strong SJ, The Australian dictionary of Jesuit biography 1848-2015, Second Edition, 2017:
Quigley, Hugo

Teacher; born Edinburgh, Scotland, 23 April 1903; died Melbourne, 22 August 1982, aged 79.

Hugo Quigley, affectionately known as 'Quig', might be described as an anecdotal man. He went to school at Holy Cross Academy in Leith. Some time after leaving school he was enrolled at Osterly, the house for 'late vocations' conducted by the English Jesuits to prepare students for entry into various seminaries. There, with John Carpenter and Laurence Hession he answered the appeal of the then superior of the Australian Mission, William Lockington, for men willing to volunteer for the Society in Australia.

All his studies in the Society were made in Ireland, interrupted by a four-year teaching regency at Xavier College, Kew. He returned in 1938 to St Aloysius' College, Milson's Point, where he spent a term. But so impressed was the very exacting rector of the place, that he included Quig in his team to follow up the founding community of the new school, St Louis, Perth, WA. There he remained for three years. Then followed 25 years at St Patrick's College, East Melbourne, teaching history and editing the college magazine The Patrician for some years. His latter years were spent at Toowong parish, Campion College, Hawthorn parish and eight years at the Jesuit Theological College.

Stories of his gift for a certain hyperbole are legion. Most famous, perhaps, was his boast at Milltown Park as to the number of buses in Edinburgh. Even when confronted with indisputable statistics that it equalled three buses per head of the population he held doggedly to his claim. He always did. To this he added that his grandfather lived to 112 and that the watch that he bequeathed to Quig, and which remained his faithful timepiece until his death, dated from 1742.

Quig preached a very good retreat. His sharp and distinctly Scottish accented voice would carry through the largest chapel. His illustrating stories were always memorable, but when he dealt with infinite things one could note a certain disappointment that hyperbole was already outreached.

In community, especially in his younger years, he was a bright and cheerful companion but on occasions he was morosely silent. In later years these gloomier periods became more frequent as he was separated from daily contact with his students and friends.

He was a solitary man. He claimed that he was always a 'loner' and this was true. He liked solitary travel on a bicycle or a motorbike and on these he covered many miles as he filled up his vacations with giving retreats.

One of his many idiosyncrasies was a firm conviction that he should never have a midday dinner. When this was the hour of the principal meal on Saturdays, he left the house early in the football season for whatever ground North Melbourne were to play on. He always carried a small leather case, not unlike a child's school lunch case. It was presumed to contain a sandwich lunch.

Quig's allergy towards cold was notable, if quaint. If the weather were at all cold he wore four shirts and two pairs of trousers. He was also allergic to wool, but often on the coldest days and dressed like this he would go to the Middle Park swimming baths - one of the several semi-enclosed baths around the Port Melbourne bay. There, divested, he would stand au naturel for as long as an hour looking into space over the water, while characteristically rotating his hand over his very bald pate.

As the years progressed his peculiarities did not grow fewer. From time to time his voice would fail. When he arrived at the Jesuit Theological College, it was with an old-fashioned school slate on which, Zachary like, he wrote what he wanted to say. As with many of his recurrent disabilities, no one ever felt quite certain as to its genuineness.

Perhaps he was not alone in not accepting the changes made by the post-conciliar congregations. His response to them was summed up in his excusing remark: 'I have not left the Society. It has left me!' At concelebrations he always used his own chalice, a tiny thing like a bantam's egg-cup. Aware that when celebrating alone there was no point in facing the congregation, he faced the tabernacle. He used always an old set of vestments rescued from a wartime chaplain's kit, black on one side and gold on the other. He carried these with him wherever he went and even when he made a trip to his homeland these went with him. They went with him to the grave.

After the closure of St Patrick's College, he continued to act as chaplain to its Old Boys Union, and in that capacity he was most faithful. During those 16 years he celebrated their marriages, baptised their children and buried not a few. He was present wherever they were gathered and they would be wherever he went. He became almost a mascot. They laughed at his idiosyncrasies but gathered warmth from his friendship.

After his requiem, Old Patricians told many stories about Quig, not the least how for a whole year he taught his own Scottish form of British history, following the wrong syllabus. The class made no attempt to report the matter, but all did their history by correspondence. On another occasion, the prefect of studies discovered a similar error, and remedied it through another teacher.

Perhaps Quig was a 'loner', and even a lonely man. But during his ministry, many boys and families surrounded him, giving him the treasure of their love and respect.

(Reproduced by permission of Fr David Strong SJ.)