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In the Autumn of 1938, with the
threat of war hanging over our unlucky heads, a meeting of parents
assembled [1] to hear the LCC Evacuation Scheme explained. It was an
unforgettable occasion. Parents crammed the Hall, stood in the doorways of
Class-rooms, crowded the corridors as far as the Playground, and listened
in tense silence while I [2] explained our part in the plan – to take the
girls away from London, see them suitably billeted, and continue their
education, as far as possible, on pre-war lines, maintaining the identity
of the School.
Had war been declared at that time, we should have taken away practically
all our scholars, and I was deeply moved by the parents’ expressions of
absolute trust in the Elliott staff. However, the Munich agreement secured
us a year’s respite, during which many parents made other plans. Some
decided to keep their children at home and trust to the Air-Raid shelters
supplied by the Government. Others arranged for their children to be
privately evacuated to friends and relatives in various parts of the
country. Many of the older girls left. Consequently, when we left
Southfields in September, 1939, our party numbered only 143 girls, plus 41
small brothers and sisters. The other girls – as pupils – I never saw
again, for we remained away for six whole years, until the end of the
Summer Term, 1945. Such a prospect would have seemed quite incredible to
us, as we trudged up Replingham Road, carrying suitcases, rugs, and ‘iron
rations’, to be seen off at Southfields Station by a crowd of
well-wishers, who cheerfully assured us that we should be back in a
fortnight, after a nice little holiday in the country!
Our ‘destination unknown’ turned out to be Guildford. In this we were
lucky indeed, for Guildford is not only a charming little town, but it is
easily reached from London, so that throughout the War Years, parents were
able to keep in touch with the School. Before we left our ‘country home’,
we had become an integral part of Guildford, and had made educational
experiments and developed activities which would have been impossible in
the more stereotyped routine of London School life.
Not that everything was plain sailing, especially at first. Billeting gave
us much trouble, and not until we got matters into our own hands, was the
problem of finding the right billet for the individual finally solved.
Moreover, during September and October, 1939, the Guildford Schools
remained closed, pending the completion of Air-raid shelters. For the
local children, living in their own homes, this meant an extension of the
normal Summer holidays. But evacuees had to be taken out of their billets
for the greater part of the day, and provided with some kind of organised
school life: fortunately, the weather was glorious, so we held open-air
classes in the parks and on the Surrey hills, and visited every place of
literary, geographical or historical interest within walking distance. We
explored Guildford very thoroughly, and were taken over the famous Grammar
School by the Headmaster himself, a scholarly gentleman with a dry sense
of humour. When we came to the Library of ancient books, chained to the
shelves, one of our little First Year girls naively asked whether the boys
came there to study, and he gravely replied, ‘I regret to say that none of
them shows any overwhelming desire to do so.’ Our top class (a very small
one, because so many had left school when war seemed inevitable) pursued
its normal timetable in the house of a kindly lady, whose garden was also
placed at our disposal for dramatic work and country-dancing.
On November 6th School buildings were re-opened: the little brothers and
sisters were drafted into local schools, and we were allowed to use The
Guildford Central School premises for afternoons only. The snag about this
arrangement was that since our numbers did not warrant the use of the
whole school, some of the Guildford Central School classes were there all
day, and the Head Master had full time possession of his Private room, so
that I had to do my clerical work in a classroom where teaching was going
on, and receive parents and visitors, of whom I had a great number, in a
Cloakroom, or, on fine days, in the playground!
The Morning problem was solved by planting classes in various Church
Halls, in the Technical Institute, and in a room over the Library. We also
secured Games Pitches in the Parks and met together at the beginning of
each day in the Methodist Church Hall, which was also used for Singing
Lessons and formal Physical Training. An enormously complicated Time Table
was evolved, which permitted our Staff to specialise as they had done in
London.
My Staff and I had from the first resolved that however difficult it might
be, we would preserve all our traditional customs and ceremonies; so
throughout the War Years we continued to hold our Annual Speech Days, O E
[3] Memorial Services, Concerts, Dramatic Entertainments, Sport Days, Open
Days and House Parties. Even in our first Christmas Holiday, 1939-1940, we
had a Christmas Tree Party, and the girls performed a Nativity Play by R H
Benson, and dramatised parts of ‘1066 and all that’. As the years went by,
these Christmas parties spread over the whole holiday period, and served
to dispel any home-sickness which might set in when School routine was
relaxed. Every class contributed one or more dramatic items; individual
pupils played solos, sang and recited; dancing, games and competitions
filled up every spare moment, and the ‘Helpers’ attached to the school cut
up incredible piles of sandwiches and cake. These affairs were not only
enjoyable in themselves, but did much to make us popular with the
foster-parents, who were always invited. Often, too, we had ‘real parents’
from London, and old scholars – many in uniform – would drop in to see how
we were getting on, and to talk about old times.
In April, 1940, I was asked by the LCC Inspector to admit some boys who
had qualified for Central School education but for whom no Boys’ School
was available. Having started, I continued to admit boys every year, and
the School was further augmented, as time went on, by qualified pupils
from Junior Schools in Guildford and neighbouring villages, and from
Peckham Park and Croydon, re-evacuated from the South coast [4]. The
Croydon contingent included a group of refugee boys (mostly from Germany)
who all did splendidly at school, and enhanced its reputation for brains
and loyalty. The last big influx of pupils, in 1942, was from the
Wandsworth Central School (billeted at Godalming) when, because of
diminishing numbers, it had to be closed down. The Headmaster, Mr S
Nugent, subsequently took over the Mixed Emergency School in London, which
had been started by my Head Assistant, Mrs Thomas, and he remained there
until our return in 1945, when separate Boys’ and Girls’ Schools were
re-established, and he, for a short time, became Head of the Boys’ school.
But this is anticipating. It was in September,
1941, that we at last secured our own premises at Guildown House. Our
elation cannot adequately be described, for Guildown had a delightful
garden, complete with lawns, terraces and sun-dial, a rock-pool,
shrubbery, and a kitchen-garden in which the boys could dig and plant
under the direction of our Garden-caretaker, Mr Wells. The big
old-fashioned kitchen was modernised, the wine-cellars were reinforced and
provided with seats to make a comfortable Air-raid shelter, the Bathroom
(exceptionally large) became a Medical Room, Servants’ quarters became
Cloakrooms, and the Garage provided space for hobbies like puppetry,
model-making and light wood-work. We thoroughly appreciated the prompt
action of our ever-helpful Inspector, Mr Baylis, in securing for us this
permanent home, and both boys and girls worked enthusiastically to make it
as comfortable as possible. The boys scrubbed desks and tables, the girls
dusted and polished, the House shields and the OE Memorial wreath were
hung up on the staircase, and a piano installed in the Hall.
With our joyous translation to Guildown House, all sorts of new actives
became possible. The kitchen-garden proving insufficient for the needs of
our canteen, I took over a couple of allotments and we also began to keep
rabbits and poultry. Our first blackberrying expedition brought in enough
fruit for the girls to make 200lbs of jam and jelly, which we shared with
other schools. The girls said it might have been 300lbs if the boys had
picked more and eaten less!
Unfortunately, Guildown House could not accommodate all our pupils, for at
one time the Role numbered close on 300, so some classes were still
located at the Technical Institute and the Methodist Church premises. We
secured more pitches for games, the Girls attended a Cookery Centre over
which an Elliott mistress presided, and the Boys were fixed up at a local
Wood-work centre.
The Time-table became even more complicated, and there was always a class
‘on the road’ from one place to another. Everyone came up to the House for
dinner, which was served in relays.
For various reasons our original staff had been depleted, but new teachers
joined us, the LCC lending us (among others) Mr Drakes [5], while Croydon
Education Authority contributed Mr Bennets [6], Mr Kear, and Mr Bassett,
all splendid colleagues with whom it was a joy to work.
To celebrate our acquisition of Guildown House, we promptly held three
Housewarming parties which were attended by 330 foster-parents, real
parents, friends and old scholars, who were served with tea on the lawn
while contingents of boys and girls entertained them with songs, dancing,
drama, and gymnastics.
In the crowded years that followed, certain things stand our very vividly
in my memory: the troop-trains bearing exhausted and wounded soldiers from
Dunkirk, who were meet at Guildford Station by some of my Staff and Senior
girls and offered tea and cigarettes; the Air-raid alarm in the middle of
dinner which sent us all to the cellars, where after a hungry interlude,
the meal was passed down from above, the staff organising a chain of
hands; the Snow-man build on the carriage drive and appropriately adorned
with school cap and tie; the dramatic entertainments at which the girls
discovered, partly to their delight and partly to their chagrin, that boys
could ‘make up’ as girls, as well as girls would ‘make up’ as boys; the
socials for which some boys with unruly hair prepared themselves by
putting their heads under the tap; and numberless visits to concerts,
lectures, films and plays, for in a small country town all these are
readily accessible.
Among the notable people we saw and heard were Eric Gill, the sculptor
(then working on Guildford Cathedral), Francesca French, the explorer Don
Bernard Clements, and David Seth Smith, the Zoo-Man of the B B C who, of
course, told us amusing anecdotes about ‘Elephants’. We went to see T S
Eliot’s play ‘Murder in the Cathedral’ performed in its proper setting, a
Cathedral; we saw W B Yeats’ ‘Resurrection’ in the same surroundings; we
were invited to the Guildford Historical Pageant produced by Eileen
Thorndyke, and contributed an item to the Guildford musical Festival; we
heard Musical Recitals by Albert Sammons and Irene Scharrer and saw
Vaughan Williams conduct his own composition ‘The Wasps’. A hundred and
ten Elliottonians attended a performance of Mozart’s opera ‘Bastien and
Bastienne’.
But most of all I remember with pride and pleasure the day when Evelyn
Stevens, on behalf of London school-children, presented a bouquet to Mrs
Roosevelt on her visit to County Hall, October 27th, 1942. Afterwards we
were entertained to lunch and listened to speeches by Mrs Roosevelt, Mr
Eden and others. Altogether a Red-Letter Day in the School’s history and
that the Elliott should have been selected for this honour was very
gratifying.
During our occupation of Guildown House we entertained a continual stream
of visitors, including Sir Grahame Savage, Education Officer to the LCC,
Lady Nathan, Mrs Bentwick, Mr Ammon (Chairman of the LCC ), Mr Chas
Robertson (Chairman of the LCC Education Committee), Sir Claude de la
Fosse (Chairman of the Guildford Higher Education Committee), the Mayor
and Town Clerk of Guildford, Mr Lawrence Powell (Chairman of Guildford
Education Committee), Inspectors, Government Inspectors, Clergy of all
denominations, and, of course, Mr and Mrs Price, our own Chairman of
Managers, the Rev H C Green, and Lieutenant Colonel Elliott, C B E, eldest
son of Sir Charles Elliott, who lived at Cranleigh, near Guildford.
Throughout our stay Colonel Elliott gave yearly prizes of £1 each to the
girls I thought most remarkable for (1) Character and influence, (2)
Scholarship or Athletics. Mrs Elliott was keenly interested in the
Verse-speaking Auditions, which, by arrangement with the Poetry Society,
were held from time to time at Guildown House. During the War we obtained,
in addition to many Certificates, 42 Bronze Medals, 12 Junior Silver
Medals, 9 Senior Silver Medals, and (a rare and difficult achievement ) 4
Gold Medals, the Society’s highest award.
When Colonel and his wife were celebrating their Golden Wedding, two
school representatives, a boy and a girl, took some gifts to Cranleigh –
they included a Gilt Elephant – and were privileged to see some of the
family treasures, relics of the Indian Mutiny, including the sword and
shield of a Rajah who nearly succeeded in killing Sir Charles Elliott.
In 1945, with the end of the War in sight, I began to collect statistics
of outstanding successes during the period 1939-1945. They seem to me
worth recording as a tribute to staff and pupils.
Apart from the Verse-Speaking Medals already mentioned, we had
1. 65 Oxford School Certificates, including 40 of Matriculation status.
2. 6 Chamber of Commerce Certificates, one girl securing 1st place in
England for French and another 2nd place.
3. 23 Stage 1 Certificates in Royal Society of Arts Examinations, 36 in
Stage II, and 1 in stage III (Advanced).
4. 4 Pitman’s Shorthand Certificates at 120wpm together with a great
number for speeds of 100wpm and 80wpm. The girls also typed and duplicated
the War-Time School magazines.
5. 5 Technical Scholarships (Boys), and in addition 2 for the Nautical
School, 1 Naval Artificer’s, 1 Art Scholarship, and 1 Clerkship.
In sport, we were equally successful, for in June, 1943, Guildford held a
‘Victory Week’ campaign, part of which included Inter-School Sports. The
Elliott girls took 1st place in all the races and in the 150-yard Race for
girls between 14 and 16, we came 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th. The Boys, though
relatively few in number, secured one 1st place, two 2nd places, and two
3rd places. The Girls won both Relay Races, Circular and Shuttle, and also
gave a Display of Country Dancing, while the Boys staged a Gymnastic
Display.
In the following year, 1944, Guildford organised a ‘Salute the Soldier
Week’, which again included Inter-School Sports. The Elliott Girls
received all four prizes, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th respectively and one of
our Boys came 4th in the 220-yard race for boys between 16 and 18.
In June, 1945, I ventured to ask the Chief Inspector, Mr John Brown (now
Education Officer) to present Prizes at our last war-time Speech Day.
Among other guests on the platform were Colonel and Mrs Elliott, Mr
Bayliss (Inspector), Mr Greenwood (Deputy Education Officer for Croydon),
Mr Lawrence Powell (Guildford Education Committee) and Mr Mitchell, Acting
Head of the Elliott Boys’ School at Woking, with which we had kept in
touch throughout the War, exchanging magazines, and meeting for friendly
games. All the visitors were afterwards entertained to lunch at Guildown
House, the girls acting as waitresses.
Mr Brown, speaking for the LCC, said it was obvious that the Elliott
School was doing ‘Secondary School work of a very high order.’ Mr Powell,
speaking for the Guildford authority, said that the complimentary letters
the Head Mistress had from time to time received from his Committee, were
no mere formal tribute. The Guildford people were really impressed by the
tone and achievements of the London school which had for so long lived in
their midst, and which they regarded with respect and affection. At the
end of the meeting, Mr Powell kindly gave me tickets for a box at the
Albert Hall, so that some of my girls could see a performance of Hiawatha.
This Speech Day lives especially in my memory not only because it was our
last at Guildford, but because it represented the peak of our achievements
as a War-time school. Our academic successes in 1944-45 included 19 School
Certificates out of a possible 20, 14 of them entitling the owners to
apply for Matriculation exemption. At this time there were actually four
languages being taught in the school, French, of course, to all, Latin to
intending teachers, German to a few selected pupils, and Hebrew to the
Jewish children, who were taught by a visiting Rabbi. Our athletics, our
dancing, and our Choral Singing were first-rate; while, thanks to the
excellent concerts provided by the LCC and Guildford, musical appreciation
had never been more intense. Our social and practical activities, too,
were multifarious, and the School’s contribution to various ‘War Efforts’
amounted to more than £120 besides the investment of over £5,000 in the
School’s Saving Association.
By Evacuation standards, our School was a large one, and it is hardly
possible for outsiders to realise the work that a non-stop School entails.
The dinner interval was fully occupied by our ‘two sittings’, which, when
Oxford Examinations were going on, often became ‘three sittings’.
Recreational activities overflowed into evenings and weekends, and
continued all through the holidays, being supervised by a rota of
teachers, who of course had to take their compensatory leave in term time,
which necessitated further juggling with a Time-table already complicated
by the fact that we were never all together under the same roof except at
morning assembly and social gatherings. Billeting troubles never really
ceased, for as the War dragged on, many of the Guildford householders had
to offer hospitality to bombed-out friends and relatives, and new billets
had to be found for our young people.
Then there was much clerical work to be done, and in those days we had no
Secretary. Every week I had to supply statistics of the number of LCC
children, Croydon children, and children from other Boroughs, who were
being educated in the School. Every week, too, I had to pay out Bus Fares
to the children who travelled into Guildford from outlying villages, and
check their attendances from the registers. In addition there were the
School Accounts, and collections for various causes. Miss Allen ran the
large National Savings Association, and Miss Whitty supervised Dinner
Accounts and the sale of uniform.
During the last term at Guildford, most of our older scholars sought
employment, and I spent much of my time securing posts, writing
testimonials, and arranging interviews. It was a shock to realise that
many of our best loved pupils belonged to other parts of London (sometimes
other parts of the country) and would not be able to continue their
education in our school after its return. For them, transfers were
arranged to Grammar and Central Schools in their own districts.
By July 18th, 1945, the date of our ‘Farewell Social’, we were all feeling
exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Mr Bayliss was the guest of
honour. He said he had come to thank everyone who had helped to make our
Evacuation experiment such an outstanding success – the School staff, the
foster-parents, the canteen staff, the caretakers of Guildown House and
the Methodist Hall, and the billet-helpers. Gifts were exchanged and the
programme carried out to the final Auld Lang Syne, but a cloud of
depression hung over us all, for we knew that although we were going home,
the unique intimacy of our war-time life together was approaching its end,
that particular pattern of joint experience would never be repeated!
But on Friday, the 20th July, 1945, came the most bitter-sweet gathering
of our last week. We had a civic send off, the Mayor himself coming down
to Morning Assembly to wish us God Speed from a platform over which
appeared an illuminated scroll bearing the words ‘FAREWELL – GOD BLESS
YOU’. After the Mayor’s departure, I held a short ‘unofficial’
presentation of certificates and prizes awarded by members of the staff,
including some Gardening Prizes from Wells, our Gardener-caretaker.
Perhaps the greatest surprise of the morning was when a 5th Year boy,
egged on by the Croydon contingent, launched unexpectedly into a speech on
their behalf, so warm and so eloquent in its praise of the ‘home-like
atmosphere of the Elliott School’, that we were all moved by it.
After our last lunch at Guildown, we collected our luggage – already piled
up at the House – and moved off to the Station. The Croydon party went off
first; the Londoners followed by a later train. At the station was a
little crowd of friends and foster-parents, some of the latter on the
verge of tears. In the circumstances we were really grateful for such
small diversions as that afforded by the boy who turned up with a
clothe-horse slung halter-wise round his neck – his own work, he blandly
explained – a present for his mother, and since both his hands were
occupied, there was no other way of getting it home.
At last we reached Waterloo, where a crowd of parents almost shook our
hands off and quite overwhelmed us with thanks and praise. Well, we had
done all we set out to do: kept the school intact, given our charges a
liberal education and a fully developed social life: by all the rules we
should have felt triumphant and glad, but all we could think of for the
moment was that the School at Guildford was now irrevocably dispersed, and
it was with sad hearts that we returned to the empty house for a last bout
of clearing up and cleaning up.
Note: this is a transcription of a
document given to June Broomer (Austin) during her visit to Guildown House
in February 2008. The document is a record written by Miss E M Hewetson,
Headmistress of the Elliott Girls School following the school’s evacuation
to Guildford during the War.
I believe it is part of a much longer history of the school held at the
London Metropolitan Archives.
Patrick Williams
25 February 2008
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