Memories of The Manor – A Letter from Caro Jephcott Lamdin
I was a pupil at The Manor 1961-67, under the Headship of Miss Welch: happy, carefree years.
Having a clear out of the attic yesterday I came across a cache of childhood treasures, undisturbed since I last moved house nearly 40 years ago, including a little booklet (done when I was 9), which stirred a pot of memories… and I thought might give you a moment’s amusement and interest in how the school has changed.
There were boys, a few, in the lower classes, but girls only in the top 2 or 3 years; and all our teachers were women, from the much loved Sister Eithne Ancila (which I thought for years was Eithne Anne Cilla – oh dear, no Latin at The Manor in those days!), Miss Priest, Miss Pope (did their names recommend them?), Mrs Owen and finally, taking the top class, the formidable Miss Welch, who was transformed by the daily proximity from scary to wonderful with no loss of authoritative force.
The plan of the school brought a lot back too – playing ‘What’s The Time Mr Wolf’ and ‘Grandmother’s Footsteps’ on the lawn behind IIA and IIB (a pre-fab); group skipping games and French elastic jumping routines on the front lawn; ‘houses’ marked out in the dust under the trees towards the road, or ‘nurses and doctors’, ‘cowboys and Indians’; the big stones on the left and sandpit on the right were springboards for other imaginative made-up games; hopscotch on the gravel at the back; then I suppose when it rained we retreated to the tithe barn, an empty but still agricultural building, and might play ‘salt cellars’ (fortune tellers made from folded paper that you moved with finger and thumb), or talk about the latest episode of The Monkees or Dr Who, pretending to be daleks. The closet a child in the ‘60s came to technology or a screen was an Etch-a-sketch!
The plan doesn’t show the little open courtyard at the back of the old house, between the coat peg corridor, the little kitchen (where vats of stew were prepared for lunch – no choice, and you sat there till you’d eaten it), the loos and dining hall (modern single storey block tacked on to the old house) and the gravel back drive, that courtyard where we have our daily bottle of milk (ugh, especially in summer when it was warm). Nor does it show the walled garden, I think it was through the tithe barn, through which we walked to get into the field between The Manor and the Senior school. We walked regularly for sports (gym, netball, lacrosse in the top year, and swimming in the outdoor (unheated?) pool – we weren’t allowed to swim if temperature was below 60 degrees fahrenheit, despite our begging to, as swimming was such a treat then and we were hardy) and for Chapel every Wednesday morning. The Chaplin was a good communicator, taught us that you don’t have to be in church to pray.
Lessons were pretty gentle I think; there was only one class in each year, and only one teacher per class, until the top two years when Maths and French were taught by specialists. We had nature lessons, but there was virtually no science, apart from a BBC course on TV. On the radio was ‘Singing Together’ – which I adored, and embedded a lifetime store of folk songs. I remember quite a lot of Art, and even more needlework (effectively embroidery), and lots of reading… but perhaps I only remember my favourite lessons! We were well-drilled for the 11+, and reasonably prepared for Common Entrance: they were the first exams we’d ever taken – no internal termly exams then.
I am glad that The Manor is still going; and I bless Miss Welch for being wise, firm, encouraging, never patronising, and yes, for a decent educational start; but more for our being “young and easy under the apple boughs… and happy as the grass was green”.
I hope your pupils will remember you with equal affection and awe in decades to come!
Sincerely,
Caro Jephcott Lamdin
