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by
Doreen Blood I
started at Blisworth school, aged five, in September 1948.
I had had one term at school before we moved to the village so it
was not so strange to me as to most of the other starters that day.
One of the first children I remember meeting was Peter Newcombe
(destined not surprisingly to be always top of the class in Art as I was
always near the bottom in that subject). I also met that day Marjorie Dilworth from Tiffield and
we kept in touch through the years until her death in 1996. The new children included some from Gayton and Tiffield.
I
had to walk to school and back again (a good mile each way) but most
children did so in those days, and we thought nothing of it.
I walked part-way down Station Road and then along the canal
towpath to Candle Bridge, then up to the school.
Sometimes I went the long way round – to the bottom of the road
and up the hill to the elm tree. If
I went that way I often called for Margaret Digby who lived half way up
the hill. I
was in Miss Hare’s class for two years, then Miss Hickman’s, and
then Miss Burt’s where I took the 11-plus exam. I
clearly remember the day King George VI died.
The Headmaster, Mr. Cole, came in and whispered something to Miss
Hickman and as soon as he left the room she stopped the lesson and spent
the rest of the session telling us what it would mean.
One
of my favourite lessons in the juniors was the last one on Thursday
afternoon when Mr Cole would come in and read to us.
He always found good books.
I still occasionally reread one of the best – “Brendon
Chase” by BB. We
did a short mental arithmetic exercise most mornings – a very good
idea and I still reap the benefits from it.
Otherwise the lessons were mostly of the style where the children
just sat and listened, we were not expected to participate in the way
they are these days. We
were expected simply to accept what we were told, and questioning
anything was not encouraged. When
I started school we used to mark Empire Day in May – we went out into
the playground and one or two pupils read poems, and the Headmaster said
something about the day’s significance.
After a year or two this stopped. The
playground was divided between “girls and infants” and “boys”. It was only partly tarmaced when I started, and the gravelled
area was very painful if you fell over.
In my first year the only toilets were earth closets at the far
end of the playground. The
arrival of flush toilets the next year seemed quite a luxury, but it was
still a long walk up there! School
dinners were provided but came in containers, having been prepared on
another site. About half an
hour before lunch some of the older boys had the job of setting up the
trestle tables and putting out the cutlery.
We had set places on the tables and went up to collect our
dinners in a strict order. The
meals seemed good – meat and vegetables and a hot pudding and custard.
There was sufficient, but by modern standards the range and style
of the meals was very limited, and there was a pretty predictable menu
for each day of the week. The
two ladies serving the meals were Mrs. Douglas and Mrs. Burton.
For a short period one year we had to go to the Old School for
dinner but I cannot remember the reason for this.
When we were in the Old School we were given one day potatoes cooked in
their jackets, and this was the first time I had encountered them.
I had no idea whether or not you were supposed to eat the jacket part,
so I left it until I could see what other children were doing, by which
time it was too late and our plates were taken away. A mistake I
have never made since!
Infants
and juniors were not allowed out of the school at dinnertime but the
older pupils were allowed to go to the shops.
This was before the Secondary Modern school was opened at Roade
so Blisworth School had some pupils up to age 15.
Younger pupils had to ask an older one if you wanted some sweets
or an ice-cream. I
took the eleven-plus and went on to Towcester Grammar School in 1954. I then caught the school bus (actually a normal service bus
to Towcester) opposite the bottom of Station Road. From time to time I missed the bus – I’ll swear it went
early! – and if lucky I got a lift.
In the first year or so a fairly regular lift on a Monday morning
came from the wife of the local MP.
She had brought her husband to Blisworth Station to get the train
to London, and picked me up on the way back.
She was a very pleasant lady and had a very comfortable car.
Sometimes she had her daughter with her, then aged about seven or
eight. She was a quiet child but very observant, quietly watching
and noting everything. After
only a year or so the lifts stopped – I suppose the MP no longer
caught the train. I never
heard of the child again until a few years ago when I opened my
newspaper and saw her photograph. Eliza
Manningham-Buller had been appointed head of MI5.
So I can say that I have been scrutinised by the Head of MI5!
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