Past Times by Ernest Griffiths.Pdf
Total Page：16
File Type：pdf, Size：1020Kb
Past Times in Myddle (Life in the 1920’s and 1930’s in a village in Shropshire, England) By Ernest Griffiths Ernest Griffiths was born in 1920 and he was at Myddle School until the age of 14. All the tales he recounts here are about those days and would have been in the years culminating in 1934. In 1941 at the age of 21 Ernest Griffiths was conscripted into the army and finally returned to farming in 1945. Following is a collection of articles that were originally written for inclusion in the parish magazine “The Myddle Messenger” published monthly and are presented in their entirety below. 1 Thinking back to early schooldays, our family then lived at Lower Houlston which is two miles from Myddle School. As there were five or six of us going to school together, we had a pony and trap for transport. The trap was left at the blacksmith and the pony on the field, where the Hodnett’s bungalow stands. If I remember correctly, with the exception of Castle Farm, there were only four houses on the left side of the road from the Smithy to the Fenemere turn at Myddle Wood. On those days, the road through the village was little more than a lane and just rough stone, no tarmacadam then. I can well recall the road being widened, and stone put down, soil thrown over it, and then sprayed with water and rolled with a steamroller. I think they called it ‘puddling the stone in’, using soil and water to key it all together. After the road surface had dried, a layer of bitumen was applied, a forerunner of our roads as we know them today. What a thrill it was to us schoolboys, watching all this going on outside the school! 2 During my schooldays at Myddle, Mr Percy Porch was Headmaster and taught the seniors. Mrs Porch taught the infants, and I think it was Miss Yeomans who took the intermediate class. I well remember when I was in the infant class, making a rather rude remark about Mr Porch, who was teaching singing, and my classmate very kindly told Mrs Porch, who then grabbed me to take me through to Mr Porch for some punishment. I was rather against the idea and hung onto the desk, but she dragged me and the desk to the door of the big room, where Mr Porch met us and rapped my knuckles with the cane so that I had to let go. At that time, the older children did canework, baskets etc, to there was always a good supply of canes soaking in a bath of water to make them more pliable, so they were good for meting out punishment too. There were two playgrounds then; girls and boys were kept separate, and woe betide anyone caught on the wrong side of the fence. During the lunch hour we were allowed to leave the school premises, and often in good weather, we would gang up to play Fox and Hounds; one boy would be given a ten minute start, and then the pack would give chase and try to catch him. Today, I shudder to think of the risks we took among the hills and quarries at Webscott. Sometimes we actually arrived back at school a minute or two late, only to find the door locked. Mr Porch would ignore us for twenty minutes or so, then let us in to give us a few strokes of the cane for being half an hour late for class - most unfair we thought! 3 My sister has just reminded me of a few little rhymes that we used to sing at school, obviously outside during dinner break when Mr and Mrs Porch had gone over to the schoolhouse, which is now the post office. Percy Porch was a very good man, He went to church on Sundays. He prayed to God to give him strength To wallop the kids on Mondays. Harmer Hill bulldogs fastened in a pen, Can’t get out for Myddle men. (Enough to cause a civil war) Looking back over what I have written, I must be giving the impression that Mr Porch was a monster, but he wasn’t really - well, perhaps a little one! He wasn’t very big anyway. In any case, a few strokes of the cane never did us any harm. It all added to the excitement, especially when someone else was on the receiving end. However, I always enjoyed school and I always looked forward to the end of term exams. It must have been my competitive nature! - or was it because it meant the end of term? Mr Porch owned a complete set of handbells, and during the time he was at Myddle, there was always a team of ringers. When I was in the team, we went to the BBC Studios in Birmingham to take part in a “Children’s Hour” programme. Christmas was a good time too, because we played carols at all the local Halls: Marton, Shotton, Burlton and Petton, which were all occupied by the gentry in those days. I also enjoyed the practical gardening sessions in the school house garden. We older boys were each allotted a plot, which we had to dig and plant with vegetables, and keep free from weeds. I remember one year I was planting potatoes, and forgot to move the line at one end. It is said that parallel lines appear to meet, well, my parallel lines did meet. The evidence was there for all to see! Mr Porch had a car, and on Fridays after school I had to help him start it. I, of course, turned the handle while he twiddled the knobs (no electric starters then). The car was not used during the week, so it was a bit stupid on occasions. I have just thought of another rhyme, but as this is for the Church Messenger, perhaps I had better forget it. 4 When I was at school, there was a ‘kissing wicket’ opposite and we used the field for sports - cricket, football, etc. when playing cricket, we had to allow extra time between stumps for dodging or leaping over cowpats. On one occasion when in the field, I got into a fight with the school bully, which came to a sudden end when he fell into the brook, which was in full spate. I rather think he must have slipped; I cannot imagine that it was my boxing prowess which put him there. However, some of the big lads fished him out, and he went home to change his clothes. I went back into school in fear and trembling, expecting to be caned, but when B….. came in late Mr Porch said “Well, B…..! I have never seen you looking so clean”, and that was that, Phew! In last month’s Country Corner, reference was made to the footsteps in the rock on Myddle Hill and I am proud to say that I was one of many who used those steps. To get up on the rock it was a case of fingers and toes, then we slid down on one foot. I think Father used to wonder why it was that I was always wearing out the studs in my right boot. We always wore hob-nailed boots for school and as the nails wore down, Father replaced them so that the actual sole of the boot did not wear out so quickly. Another good place to play was the old Quarry (now filled in and houses built on it). It was used as the village dump and all sorts of exciting things could be discovered. When crab apples, which grew around the quarry rim were in season, we had many good crab fights. The enemy on the top pelted the defenders in the bottom who used old dustbin lids, etc, to ward off the crabs raining down on them. There were often a few black eyes and bloody noses when the missiles found the target. But it was good fun, and we loved it. 5 Just after I reached the grand old age of nine, my uncle who farmed Houlston Manor died suddenly and my father bought the farm. So with the exception of my elder brother, we moved from Lower Houlston to the “Manor”. (Sounds grand, doesn’t it?) I can remember wheeling all my worldly goods in a wheelbarrow to my new home. However, because we were half a mile nearer to the school, and by this time there were only two of us going to Myddle, we had to dispose of the pony and trap, and thereafter it was Shank’s pony. Ah well, the exercise did us good. At least, that is what my father said; we didn’t believe it. At this time, also, I joined the Church choir (and still there sixty odd years later) and because of the distance involved, Mrs Nesbit, the Rector’s wife, insisted that I went straight to the Rectory from school on choir practice nights. There I was given tea with the family. It consisted of four boys and two girls, one of whom was very pretty and my age, a wonderful incentive to attend practice regularly. The Rectory then was almost double the size it is now (the old Rectory) and in winter was very cold, so we always had our tea on small tables round a huge fire, very cosy. We had practice in the drawing room which was very large with a grand piano at one end.