The Tiled Hall
I learned ‘fairness’ indirectly, and was reminded of this by my niece Sarah, who is at GWC in the footsteps of her mother, Alison, my younger sister, who was born too late to enjoy the peculiar virtues on all-girl school.
I asked Sarah what she might ask an old (old) girl if she were collecting memories of GWLC. She thought for a moment: “What punishments did you get?”
Sheena McDonald (Class of 1972)
I did kick against the system a little – smaller infractions included rolling over my skirt waistband multiple times to make it shorter than permitted, and a couple of more serious incidents which landed me in the Tiled Hall and ultimately Hilda Fleming’s office. She was stern but even keeled and always provided a path forward and instilled a moral and work ethic which I like to believe endures to this day.
Sarah Hume née Patterson (Class of 1975)
Corporal punishment was never used at GWLC but the greatest sin was to be sent to the “Tiled Hall” the hub of the George Square navigation system. There an offender could be observed by all as in days of yore when the stocks were engaged.
Ann Welsh née Cunningham (Class of 1964)
With no playground the Central Hall was the place for the Juniors to play but Senior pupils could walk in pairs around the Square. One winter’s day with snow on the ground, I remember a friendly snowball fight with male students from their residence on the opposite side of the Square - a risky act but no reprimand followed!
Florence Mills née Cameron (Class of 1951)
We certainly had the impression that the ethos was on giving a pupil another chance. Being sent to the tiled hall was enough for most people.
Mary Stewart (Class of 1976)
We were never naughty in her [Miss Margaret Gilmour] class but a few of us, well 3 of us to be precise got a bit carried away one winter when the snow was lying. Bear in mind that we weren’t allowed to play outside….but the pull of the snow was too strong and without asking, three of us sneaked up the basement steps, turned right at the top and out into the Square, round to about No 25, where we made a wonderful slide, down towards the Meadows. We were joined by some boys, maybe they’d come down Middle Meadows Walk from Heriot’s, or maybe they were local lads, I can’t remember and it didn’t matter: we all had a whale of time. Until it was time to get back into School. The escape had involved an element of planning. Not so the return. We were hardly into the building when we were met by a teacher who marched us to….The Tiled Hall! Aaaaargh, the dreaded Tiled Hall. Juniors were not allowed into the Tiled Hall and it was to be avoided like the plague: it was where you were sent when you’d been naughty, to sit and await an audience with Miss Nicholson, the Head of the Whole School, whom you otherwise only ever saw be-gowned, from the Hall floor, leading Morning Assembly. Expulsion? I was more worried that she might tell my parents. Such was the level of fear that I remember nothing about the meeting.
Sheila Arnott née MacGrain (Class of 1962)