05. School Days

Class II St John's C of E School, Whittle-le-Woods

My earliest recollection of school was my infant teacher, Miss Ethel Henry, who cycled from Leyland daily. She lived in Sandy Lane, Leyland. The other teacher was Mrs. Elsie Whalley who lived on the Crescent at Chorley. A highlight of our infant school was the Christmas party when mothers could attend. When we entered standard one, a new teacher arrived called Miss Greenwood who came from Fleetwood. I think she used to be put up in the village for the week, going home at weekends. Standard two was rather awesome as the lady at that time was Miss Sally Hilton, later becoming Mrs Ted Hirst. She was very tall and nearly always dressed in black, buttoned up to the neck. She wasn’t unkind but very austere. She always played the piano for us marching into school from the “lines”. I think one of her regular pieces was the Soldiers Marching Song from “Faust”. As I moved into standard three the teacher was Miss Jesse Richards, whose father had been the previous headmaster at St. John’s and had retired a short time before I started school. He apparently was well known by former scholars for his very strict discipline and was nicknamed “Owd Dick” presumably for having the name Richards. Jesse was a peculiar sort of person. Her usual sort of punishment was to pat both sides of your face saying “Oh you are going to have it” and then she would give you a mint imperial, a supply of which she always carried. During that year, at the Easter test on maths (sums) I obtained six correct questions out of six, so the head and Jesse deemed that two other successful girls and I should move into standard four. This had an adverse effect on me throughout the remainder of my school time. Moving into standard four that Easter the teacher was Miss Wharton who became later Mrs. Hilton, who taught for many years, and I think the only teacher who had a teacher’s certificate. She was also sister-in-law to Miss Hilton of standard two fame. Her initials were I.I. and later in life we knew, not to her face personally, as Isobel. Miss Wharton’s speciality was English and there on I missed out, as mid summer break arrived (four weeks only) the classes again moved up and I found myself in standard five with scholars mostly a year older than myself. It was in standard five we first experienced the cane. Isobel’s speciality was to use her finger and poke you in the ribs, but the teacher in standard five was a man by name of John Fowler, a veritable “Wackford Squeers” of Dickens fame. He was indeed a despicable bully, his cane being split at the ends and secured with elastic bands. His so-called subject apart from taking a class was history. His limitations were the invasion of England by the Romans in 54 and 55 BC and as far as teaching was concerned, it mostly broke off to give someone the cane. He apparently had come into teaching as his wife wished him to raise his profile as he had been a weaver and his wife considered herself rather upper class. During one session when he was taking history in a higher class he hurt one of my classmates so much that the boy swore at him, saying, as I remember full well, “You will cop it for this you B******”. At that Fowler thrashed him unmercifully, all of which we watched in horror. Just as he finished the headmaster walked in and said “What is wrong with Snaylam Mr. Fowler?” Fowler just grunted something unintelligible. It ended up with the boy’s mother coming down to school after dinner break. He would have been prosecuted today. Fowler had a mysterious end, as I think he was some sort of secretary for the local Co-op and finance was involved. He was not too old when he died. We were all glad to move into standard six, which was taught by the headmaster, Mr. Henry Bates, who was rather docile compared with Fowler but nevertheless used the cane quite often particularly picking me and another girl out for some reason. (Bessie is still in the nursing home in “Two Corners” at the junction of the A6 and Dawson Lane). The headmaster taught history and so-called music as well as English. The music consisted of putting a scroll on the blackboard with the dreaded tonic sol-fa and he expected us to sing to it. He also played the piano and we had to sing to the pieces he chose. It would have been better if he had taught us to read music. As I was a year in advance of my fellow age group when the time came after the summer break, Bates kept me down into six for another year. This was a great disappointment to me and he never really explained why, as I was equally as good as those who were moving up into seven, so as that year progressed I was doing the same work as I had during the last year. We had learned William Cowper’s “England with all thy faults” from his poem. “The Task” and of course during my second year in six, when we were supposed to learn it again, I could recite it with all relevant exclamations etc.

I finally moved into standard seven which was taught by a man called Mr. Dawson (Harry), a red-haired man whose speciality was geography, which, along with history, I enjoyed most. Like the others he carried a cane, but not often used. But when he did you knew about it. He was a very good teacher and we learnt quite a lot in that year. I was in for a year and then moved into standard eight with the same teacher. The fact that I had been held back for a year meant that much that I should have been taught in eight meant that I had missed much of the knowledge which was available in eight, especially in maths which proved unfortunate for me. I never had the chance to sit for the scholarship, later becoming known as the “Eleven Plus” as I wasn’t even given the opportunity to sit. I never knew why, as if you passed the scholarship you went to Chorley Tech, later Chorley Grammar School, or Balshaws unless your parents could afford to pay for you to go. Perhaps my parents had had something to say against it “cost wise”. I will never know. What I do know : the headmaster had come down to see mum and dad about Mary going for further education as she was quite clever and very neat in her handwriting but full stop, she ended up in the mill. However, an examination became available to sit for the Harris College at Preston. Three of us sat one Saturday morning. Regrettably, one or two questions were on algebra, which, should I have been in eight for a year, I would have learnt, but I didn’t at that time know. Later at night school, I learnt it quite well. The outcome of the examination was rather mysterious: only one passed and he was supposedly a borderline pass. But he lived adjoining the headmaster’s house. His name was Pass. One could only draw one’s own conclusions as within two years another boy who lived next door to Pass also passed to go to Harris.

Continue to 06. School Days "Incidents of Note"