Past Times Project.co.uk - interacting with all aspects of Great Britain's past from around the world
Free
membership
 
Find past friends.|Lifestory library.|Find heritage visits.|Gene Junction.|Seeking companions.|Nostalgia knowledge.|Seeking lost persons.







Home <> Lifestory Library <> Explore By Location <> <> <> The New Headmaster




  Contributor: Barbara GreenshieldsView/Add comments



Barbara Greenshields (nee Jupp), born in 1924, recalls her teenage years whilst living in South Bersted.

'He's thirty two'. Our informant was a little older than we were and she was referring to our new headmaster, Mr John Mohan whose arrival was expected soon. How could she possibly know how old he was? Had she overheard a snippet of conversation among the teachers? Or perhaps her family was acquainted with one of the school managers? The school assembled to welcome him and his wife and young family. He hadn't much hair, not nearly as much as Dad and Dad was thirty-four. That was in 1934. The last time I spoke to Mr Mohan was in 1992 when he told me was in his ninetieth year!

I escorted my brothers, Peter to school when he started, then Michael. Our way took us through the churchyard, past the grave of our infant aunt and uncles, a little way from the path, but we didn't think we were allowed on the grass, so never ventured to take a closer look at it and to read the inscription. If we set off early for afternoon school we could wait on the corner of Vicarage Lane (now Church Lane) for the cows to come down from the meadows on their way to be milked. As they rounded the corner we would follow behind until we reached school, while they and their cowman proceeded onwards to the cowsheds at the top of Bersted Street.

Opposite the church was a high wall with a door leading into the Vicarage garden where many wedding parties had their photographs taken after the service. Sometimes the school used it, probably when the surroundings were thought more appropriate than the playground. When David was in the infants he once took part in an entertainment performed there. I had transferred to the South Bersted Brownies and on summer evenings it was occasionally used for our meetings, before being sold with the Vicarage for housing development.

I don't know why I was not accompanying one of my little brothers on the morning I went by the cinder path to school. There was plenty of time so I took the alternative route just off the Chichester Road; past the allotments to the meadows at the top of Vicarage Lane and from there, towards South Bersted Street. Further out was another footpath to the left. Where did it go I wondered?

I followed it, picking Marguerite Daisies for our classroom on the way and, after passing through some trees, was surprised to find myself in the Vicarage garden. There had been no gate or fence to indicate its boundary. The house was empty and looked lonely and forlorn, the garden too, having lacked attention was beginning to be taken over by nature, but to me it was beautiful, so still and quiet. There was a magical feel about it. At the time I would not have been able to explain adequately how I felt when I encountered that scene, but now I would describe it as complete peace and tranquillity, perhaps to be compared with the way Mary Lennox felt when she discovered 'The Secret Garden'. If only time could have stood still for a little while.

Half afraid that I shouldn't be there I retraced my steps and went on my way to school. I have always been slightly mystified as to why my memory of this incident should be so intense.

I hadn't been to London until I went on my first school outing. I was so excited I found it hard to go to sleep the previous evening and was fearful I wouldn't wake up in time. We were going by train and had to assemble quite early at the railway station. A visit to the Houses of Parliament, a boat trip on the Thames past the Tower, then a visit to Madame Tussaud's in the afternoon filled our day. Other years we went by coach to Windsor Castle, and when I was about thirteen, an educational visit to Huntley and Palmer's biscuit factory at Reading and on to the National Institute for Research in Dairying, which I found particularly interesting.

Mr Mohan took us older children to Chichester on the bus. Some of the boys cycled and met us there. We went to the cathedral then walked along the Roman wall to North Street to see the Pudens Stone, part of Chichester's Roman history. It refers to the Temple of Neptune and Minerva and was found in 1723 when digging a cellar at the site of the temple, at the corner of North Street and Lion Street. Then on to Priory Park to visit the museum. History was my least favourite subject but I thought this was much better than sitting in a classroom trying to learn about dead kings and queens and dates I could never remember.

Another more acceptable history lesson was when we were taken to the Odeon Cinema to see 'Sixty Glorious Years', the story of Queen Victoria's reign. Possibly I would have had more interest in local history. A few yards from our school was Hollywood House where William Ward-Higgs had lived when he composed 'Sussex by the Sea', yet this was never mentioned and it was years afterwards before I learned this information. It wasn't even included in our repertoire of songs in our singing lessons.

During the latter part of the autumn term, conducted by Mr Mohan, we began practising carols for a concert performed for our parents shortly before we broke up for Christmas. I felt very honoured to be one of the children chosen to sing solo. The audience was virtually all mothers, I don't remember seeing many fathers, I suppose they were at work. This was the day Mr Mohan was presented with a Christmas cake made by the girls who attended the cookery classes at Lyon Street School on Friday mornings.

We hadn't a playing field at our school. For a while we walked down Ivy Lane, crossed the railway and went on through the fields, sometimes picking a blackberry or two, to Felpham recreation ground where we played stoolball. Later we walked crocodile fashion to the Hawthorn Road/Hampshire Avenue ground for games. Sometimes it was rounders, and we played netball in the winter. Children living at Shripney, who already had quite a long walk to school, had even further to go home on games days. They brought sandwiches for their packed lunch (or dinner as we called it then) and ate them sitting at desks in one of the classrooms. No hot school dinners in those days.

Ball and skipping games featured in our playground activities. 'Sixes' involved throwing he ball against a wall in a variety of ways. Between legs astride; under one leg; twirling round; and if you didn't catch it you were out until your turn came round again. A popular skipping game started with 'Who will I marry? Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief'? We skipped individually for this game and had to do the 'bumps' when we came to the characters. This meant turning the rope very fast so that it passed twice under our feet while we only jumped once, until we were out. That decided our bridegroom! The rest of our fate was prophesied by 'What will I wear? Silk, satin, cotton, rags'? Followed by 'What will I go to church in? Coach, carriage, wheelbarrow, dung cart'? and finally counting the number of children we would have. Another favourite was: -

Chin Chin Chinaman bought a penny doll
Washed it and dressed it, then it caught a cold
Sent for the doctor, the doctor couldn't come
Because he had a pimple on his RUM TUM TUM
(or BIG FAT BUM depending how rude you were!)

One girl stood facing another, often smaller child and held her under the arms. Another stood behind and held one foot. The middle one was jiggled up and down while the verse was chanted, then raised up off the ground once at the end of the first three lines, and three times at the end of the last.

In the summer, if we took a note of permission from a parent we were allowed to go swimming on Friday afternoons, a privilege enjoyed by the top classes. We walked to the beach in front of the east end car park where South Coast World now stands, the boys one side of a break water, the girls the other; far enough apart not to be indulging in mixed bathing.

The young teacher who accompanied us had quite a large beach hut there and allowed us girls to use it to change in and out of our bathing costumes. One day one of our group entertained us by performing an impromptu dance in the nude. Teacher must have wondered at the sounds of merriment coming from her hut.'

My daughter tells me she used to play 'Sixes' in the playground during the late 1970's/early 1980's. Does anyone know if they still play this today?


- Barbara (2nd from right) with friends at the National Institute of Research in Dairying

View/Add comments






To add a comment you must first login or join for free, up in the top left corner.


Privacy Policy | Cookies Policy | Site map
Rob Blann | Worthing Dome Cinema