Memories of my Schooldays - RMS in the 1950s by RMS for Girls

Memories of my Schooldays RMS in the 1950s

Memories of my Schooldays - RMS in the 1950s

Memories of my Schooldays RMS in the 1950s

Machio, 1956

This book was produced in 2022 by RMS for Girls. With thanks to all our ‘Old Girls’ who have so vividly painted a picture of RMS as it was then.

Contents Foreword

Joan Grandorge (Olsen), 1958, Connaught

Anne Burrows, 1948, Ruspini

Kay Walker (Greenwell), 1959, Atholl

Rosemary Witt (Fisher), 1952, Atholl

Jill Gesseau (Doucy), 1959, Moira

Gillian Wright, 1953, Zetland

Cheryl Lang (Lloyd), 1959, Connaught

Frances Townley (Andrews), 1954, Zetland

Merle Cook (Rosalind Cook), 1954, Connaught

Pamela Harper (Anderson), 1959 & Celia Turnbull (Anderson), 1962 – Sussex

Gillian Reckitt (Nobbs), 1954, Ruspini

Marilyn Jobson-Scott (Andersen), 1960, Zetland

Wendy Amos (Daniel), 1955, Ruspini

Prudence Cook, 1960, Alex

Anne Keen (Scott), 1955, Connaught

Rosanne Tempest-Holt (Parkin), 1960, Cumberland

Janet Williams (Theresa Williams), 1955, Atholl

Patricia Grace Barker (Robinson), 1961, Zetland

Brenda Ross (Godwin), 1955 & Lynn Cross (Godwin), 1961 – Ruspini

Penny Cookson (Pryor), 1961, Atholl

Evelyn Olsen, 1962, Connaught

Norma Hughes (Williams), 1955, Cumberland

Anne Clark (Margaret Speight), 1964, Cumberland

Valerie Balkwill, 1956, Moira

Christine Shellard (Jowett), 1956, Cumberland

Dinah Hawkins (French), 1956, Sussex

Sue Grinstead (Shaw), 1958, Zetland

Aileen Cockshut, 1958, Ruspini Gillian Beetham (Lewis), 1959, Ruspini Marjorie Caygill, 1959, Ruspini Judith Crowe (Oxley), 1959, Ruspini & Lesley Saltmarsh (Simpson), 1959, Ruspini

Peggie Shields (Robinson), 1958, Zetland

Dinah Sansom (Spencer), 1958, Moira

Foreword ‘More heinous ‘crimes’ included breaking bounds. Midnight swimming happened via a complicated route involving ladders and the roof.’ The creative ingenuity of the pupils at The Royal Masonic School for Girls is a constant, it would appear. This marvellous collection of accounts of life for ‘the Ricky girls’ at ‘the RMIG’ in the 1950s shows that some aspects of our schooldays are pretty timeless: the friendships, Sports Days, birthday cakes, school trips, and ‘getting up to all sorts of mischief’ are things that RMS girls throughout the ages will remember. The memories and anecdotes contained here do also take us back to a very specific period of time and sets of routines, to a school era of Domestic Science and Sunday Chapel, of ice cold dormitories and the ‘Great Smog of London’, to a decade when ‘modern gadgets’ included a washing machine and a radio that allowed pupils to hear tanks rolling into Hungary and ‘Rock Around the Clock’. As with its predecessor, Memories of my Schooldays: RMS in the 1940s, this book is a wonderful piece of social history about a very particular time at a school so special that in March 1955 Her Majesty The Queen came to visit to watch a performance of Drill and to enjoy tea with the girls. Accounts of that special day are among the many highlights of this collection, and I am hugely appreciative of all of the former pupils and families who have contributed to this fascinating set of memories. I trust that you will enjoy reading it every bit as much as I did myself.

Kevin Carson Headmaster

Anne Burrows 1948, Ruspini One day, which I so clearly remember, I was sitting in the RMS library which was upstairs above the entry hall in front of the Great Hall. The sun was shining through the stained glass windows as I pored through a large book and chose my future profession as a hospital almoner. Little did I know at the time that this would be called hospital social work. I had always felt confident that I would one day achieve my goal, and for that I credit RMS. I knew I had received a good education in those post-war years. Teachers always expected the best: from Miss Fryer, the Headmistress with her stern admonitions at assembly; Miss Atherton, our Ruspini Housemistress who only tolerated striving for the best in work, sports and behaviour (little did she know about those midnight feasts); to Miss Fear, the caring matron who let us dry our hair in front of her heater. Personally, I was most influenced by my piano teacher, Miss Hunter. I was a mediocre pianist and forever will remember toiling up the hill from my garden plot by the pond, desperately cleaning my fingernails as I ran to my music lesson. One day, I was in the school entrance hall and joined a cluster of girls around the notice board. There among all the talented musicians was my name. I was to attend a concert at the Royal Albert Hall followed by supper at the Freemasons’ Hall. I was speechless – rare for me! At my next music lesson, Miss Hunter replied to my amazed ‘why me?’ by saying that not everyone possessed great musical talent, but everyone could use their musical education to enjoy good music their whole life long. She believed in me.

Another lifelong gift of Miss Hunter’s was her comment about being bored. It was just not allowed in life. There was never a justification for it. There were other RMS teachers who also instilled that conviction of ‘Yes I can’. For gymnastics, hockey, tennis and running – Miss Poole and Miss Tudor Jones (TJ as she was known by us all). I’m not so sure about Miss Vick as I seemed to spend a lot of time with my hands on my head singing – I have joined every choir since. The Queen visiting the Dining Hall, 1955

Rosemary Witt (Fisher) 1952, Atholl I started school in 1943. An unhappy little eight-year old. Weybridge was closed due to the war so I was plunged into a very large school and felt rather overwhelmed. I was put into Atholl House and stayed there throughout my school days. In 1951, I took my O-levels and the powers that be decided we should not be graded. A pass was 50% and you either passed or failed. Luckily, I only failed maths and did not have to retake it. Several girls had to retake English exams. I think they brought in grading fairly soon afterwards, but my certificate looks quite bleak with just ‘passed’ all the way down and one ‘failed’. My brother was at Bushey and I remember my mother turning up with him one day – there were still very strict rules about visiting – but Miss Funnell, our Housemistress, allowed me to go out with them. This was either 1951 or 1952 – a great treat! In February 1952, the King died. We were all called to assemble in the Great Hall. Miss Fryer dramatically entered from the back of the stage, black gown flying. She stood there and announced ‘The King is dead’. An unforgettable moment. Later, some of us went down to Rickmansworth and heard the declaration, ‘The King is dead. Long live the Queen.’ History in the making.

Rosemary Witt & her brother 8

Gillian Wright 1953, Zetland I went to the junior school from 1946. After the summer holidays I was put up to the second year with only a few of my friends. I cried when I had to go back, but by the end of the Christmas term I was really eager to return. We were considered too young to take the GCE, as we weren’t quite 16, and so I was marked with a Grade A straight away. I was in the orchestra. I started off playing the piano but was moved on to play the double bass; and we got to attend several concerts. We used to go on theatre trips once a year where we got to meet several of the stars which was lovely. If it was someone’s birthday then a cake would usually be produced. When I first joined the School, we weren’t allowed visitors because it was the end of the war. Eventually we were allowed one visitor per term, although not a lot of people had them. Not many parents made it to the shows because they were spread all over the country and the trains weren’t very good back then. Even though we had quite a cushioned life, we were put to work doing things such as gardening to keep the place looking nice. One or two of the girls were quite artistic, and had some of their artwork put up on the walls. If there was an epidemic, which there sometimes was, then we would be confined to our House. My favourite teacher was Miss Vickridge who was also my Housemistress and although she was quite strict you always knew where you were with her. I also liked my games mistress and because I was more daring than most when it came to games, I was one of her favourites. We did sometimes do naughty things such as having midnight feasts. How they didn’t hear the banging doors in the dormitory or the taps gushing water, I will never know. In 1956, we went to the lower field to have a party. I remember having a rug draped over my arm which I used to conceal two bottles of wine that I had to try and stop clinking with my fingers! We did have some really fun times at RMS.

Frances Townley (Andrews) 1954, Zetland On a scale of one to ten, my appreciation of classical music was about one and a half. I knew that because Miss Edgington had told me I was wasting her time with piano lessons. Equally, the unique opportunity to listen to young genius violinist, Ralph Holmes, who became world famous, and the equally well known young pianist, Nina Milkina, was completely lost on me. I’m sure most of us had little knowledge of dance bands of the day. The highlight of our Saturday evenings was being allowed to listen to the wireless and to dance to Victor Sylvester and his Ballroom Orchestra. This entailed a waltz or foxtrot around the common room, partnering each other. Raunchy, foreign dances like the rumba, calypso and cha cha cha were certainly not for us. Imagine the collective amazement one Sunday afternoon when the Great Hall was the venue for a South American Fiesta. We couldn’t believe our eyes when the stage burst into a stupendous riot of colour and the exotic sounds of Edmundo Ross and his orchestra filled the Hall! Suddenly we were in a tropical paradise! I wonder what the band made of an audience of 400 girls in identical navy blue serge dresses, who were gawping at them in disbelief. They were rather more accustomed to entertaining Hollywood stars and the aristocracy, including the young princesses and their escorts. Edmundo, as we all called him after the first five minutes, introduced us to each of the band members and we all fell madly in love with one or the other of them, not to mention Edmundo. The atmosphere in the hall was electric with everyone shouting requests and running onto the stage for autographs – in fact, it was total mayhem, a sort of early version of Beatlemania. For once in her life, the redoubtable Audrey Fryer had lost control. It didn’t take her long to recover it though.

Edmundo Ross and his band

She took to the stage in front of our new best friends and clapped her hands dozens of times, which usually terrorised everyone into silence. Gloom set in when the fiesta was over. We trooped into the dining room to eat however many slices of bread we had felt like ordering at breakfast time, when we had no idea how hungry we would be at tea time, and which we attempted to make more palatable with scrapings of margarine and jam. Before he was dismissed by our Headmistress, our best buddy Edmundo, had invited us to go to his Coconut Grove Club in London’s Regent Street ‘any time we liked’ to say hello. Why not? This was exactly what Shirley Reedman (Greenslade), Diana Bailey (Campbell) and I did. Goodness knows what the other guests thought of us, but I do remember some of them in the Foyer staring at us totally bemused! I can’t imagine that three naïve young girls, in cotton summer dresses and school blazers, waiting to talk to one of the biggest celebs of the era, in the hottest nightclub in town, would escape the cameras of the paparazzi today. Gracious as ever, our friend appeared and thanked us for coming to see him. It was a pleasure!

Frances Andrews, Shirley Greenslade and Diana Campbell visit to The Coconut Grove Club

Merle Cook (Rosalind Cook) 1954, Connaught I vividly remember the Coronation weekend at RMS in June 1953. On the Monday, a group of us went paddling in the river below the School. Then on the Tuesday we all listened to the radio, even though we had been promised a screen in the Great Hall. Those who wanted to were allowed to go home, but even though we had a TV at home, I assume that North Wales was too far to travel for this. At 2pm, we had to go to bed for a nap so that we would be wide awake for a bonfire and fireworks at 11pm. About a week later, we were taken to the cinema to see the film of the Coronation, so we managed to see it on a big screen after all.

Connaught girls having fun in the School grounds 12

Gillian Reckitt (Nobbs) 1954, Ruspini One of my fellow housemates in Ruspini was one of those girls always craving attention and friendship, whether it was by bringing forbidden sweets and cakes back at the beginning of term, or bringing in books that were perhaps not very suitable. One of these books, which we pored over and found extremely boring, was called The Technology of Sex. With a title like that, it just had to be boring didn’t it? Nevertheless, we all gathered around reading it until we were caught red-handed by our wonderful Housemistress Miss Atherton, known to us girls as ‘Bill’ (no idea why she had that nickname!) We were all marched off to be given a firm talking to by Miss Fryer. She informed us that it was her duty to write to our mothers to tell them that we had read this highly inappropriate book. Needless to say, we were all very worried about the reaction we would get from our mothers and my first letter from my mother since the ‘incident’ arrived shortly afterwards. She wrote that she wondered why the Headmistress had found it necessary to write to her – ‘surely’ she said, ‘living as we do in the countryside and surrounded by animals, in particular our large number of dogs who often mate on our front lawn, you knew all about this sort of thing already!’ So, I didn’t get a telling off – not sure about my housemates though!

Wendy Amos (Daniel) 1955, Ruspini I was born in 1938 and attended RMS at Weybridge from the age of seven, my father having been killed whilst serving as a radar instructor in the RAF in 1942. My, how different times were then from today! No phones to contact home, maybe a visitor once a term and the obligatory letter we sent each week, ‘Dear Mummy, I hope you’re well and happy, I am!’ etc. I was in Ruspini House with Miss Atherton (Bill) as Housemistress and the aptly named Miss Fear as Matron. There are so many memories from my time there. Winters were certainly much colder and ice on the inside of the dormitory windows was not unusual. The communal bathrooms had large pipes and a green line in the bath to denote the allowed level of water – not very high! We had navy knickers with a second white pair to act as knicker liners! None of these was changed that often, so we would wash them and wrap them around the thick pipes hoping that the warmth would emanate and eventually help to dry them. Breakfast was at 7ish in the dining hall, followed later in the morning by a glass of milk back in the House, poured a few hours earlier, thus not very appetising. Most of us had government orange juice. It was wartime, and food rationing remained until way after the end of the war. Food and drink remembered: fish pie with ‘smash’ potatoes, deep fried roast potatoes, bread and ‘scrape’ (alternative to butter), traffic light biscuits.

In the summer, we would often eat vinegar leaves from the lower playing field and in the autumn sweet chestnuts. They were delicious though they stained our handkerchiefs so matron was not too pleased! We went to Chapel every day, three times on Sunday plus rehearsals for the choir. School Drill and the many rehearsals. Live piano too, not recorded tapes! Then there was the Edumundo Ross concert! A famous band leader from the 1950s. They performed in the Main Hall. We were never sure how they obtained permission. Fabulous music and very loud! Miss Fryer’s face was something to behold! We did enjoy a day off for the Queen’s Coronation in 1953. We were allowed to have a 12 inch black and white television and I recall watching it with a dozen or so folk. We forged great friendships for which I will always remain grateful. All of us have great stories to tell.

Drill performance in front of the Queen, 1955 15

Ann Keen (Scott) 1955, Connaught Visit of the Queen, 11 March 1955 – written by Ann in 1955, aged 18. Before class in the morning, we had an extra fifteen minutes to do our duties especially well. We had short lessons, but everyone was so excited we did not get much work done. I had to help arrange the platform. We had an early dinner at 12.15pm, followed by putting out more chairs in the dining room. After that we had to get dressed in our new frocks. We had quite a long wait after that. My friend, Jean Kent, and I were so excited that to take our minds off things we had a game of chess. The Queen was due to arrive at 3pm, but owing to the crowds of people in the village she was delayed. All that time we were waiting in the Hall getting more and more excited. When the Queen came into the Hall via the doors at the back of the stage, a gasp went up. It was a good job we did not have to sing the National Anthem straight away. The Earl of Scarborough said it was one of the few times he had heard the Anthem sung correctly.

The Queen’s visit - 1955

The Queen was wearing a fitted emerald green coat with an astrakhan collar. Her hat, a sort of fez shape, was matching green, trimmed with astrakhan. She had black gloves, handbag and peep toed shoes. On her coat was a leaf-shaped diamond brooch. What a lovely smile she had which showed her teeth, which were white and straight. After singing the Anthem, a little Weybridge girl presented a bouquet of pink and white flowers. The Queen then walked down the hall and spoke to Sally Grantham, the Head Girl. As the Queen passed each row, we had to curtsey. I was rather lucky because I was at the back of the Hall so saw her walk all the way up. The Queen then went to look over one of the Houses and the new buildings. In the meantime we went to the dining room to have our mock tea, which consisted of a slice of bread and butter and two cakes! The Queen seemed most concerned that we were not having much for tea, but Miss Fryer reassured her we would be getting our high tea later. She then went to look around the kitchens and to go for her tea. After our mock tea we had to dash back to our Houses to get dressed for School Drill. We had new tunics and blouses and to our horror, had to wear stockings. Every time our arms moved during the exercises, the blouses made a rustling noise. As we had practised so much our knees did not crack when we bent them. All our hard work was rewarded as everyone said how good the Drill had been, the best for ages. Sir Allen Adair welcomed the Queen and presented her with a beautifully bound book about the School. However, the Queen did not speak, but did ask Miss Fryer to give us an extra day’s holiday! After Drill, we went into ‘Chez Nous’, a room at the back of the stage, to be presented to the Queen. We watched her sign the visitors’ book and she chatted to us. We were the luckiest people because we were in the room with only Miss Fryer and the Lady in Waiting, Lady Rose Baring. We were not being pestered by newspaper men or photographers, who followed her around all the time. The whole school lined the drive as she left in a black and maroon car, followed by her detective and secretary. As she went out of the gates, the Royal Standard which had been flying, was lowered. The visit was mentioned on the 10 o’clock news and was shown in the cinemas having been accepted by the newsreels, Pathé and Gaumont-British.

Janet Williams (Theresa Williams) 1955, Atholl In 1951, considering everyone was still recovering from the war, and rationing was still present, the School was remarkable. I arrived at the RMIG in September 1951 as a 13 year old. I came from a grammar school where the class size was 40+ and we very rarely had a text book. So walking up the drive to the main administration block with my mother, I thought we were in palace grounds. We were interviewed by Miss Fryer and Miss Wade (Matron) before going to the Sanatorium to be medically examined. Then on to Atholl House where we met Miss Funnell, and after a brief goodbye mother left! I was introduced to a ‘buddy’ who had the responsibility to ensure I knew the ‘ropes’. After tea, instead of going to prep, I was taken back to the House where the House Matron kitted us out in uniform. The clothes consisted of underclothes, a gym dress, two blouses, two dresses (one for best), winter coat, winter hat, panama hat, two pairs of black lace up shoes, one pair of bar strap shoes for special occasions, games shoes, socks, lisle stockings, two suspender belts, pyjamas and one pair of woollen gloves. We had been instructed to only bring the following: hairbrush, comb, slippers, dressing gown and £1 for pocket money – which went for safe keeping to Miss Funnell who doled it out on request. Also, writing paper, envelopes and stamps. Discipline was strict, but it was a very well run ship. Each House had four ‘decades’, made up of 12/13 girls, each with a prefect and sub prefect. These ‘decades’ were kept in assembly and church. Each dormitory had a prefect and a sub prefect. The seniors (+13 years) went to bed at 8.30pm with lights out 9pm. The rising bell sounded at 7am, when bedclothes were folded back, and according to rotas, either baths or washes took place. Water in the bath only up to the black line, followed by Prayers at the side of bed (kneeling of course) then bed made and downstairs to have assembly and breakfast.

At the end of term, all girls who lived locally dressed in their uniform and, carrying their tickets, went in crocodiles to catch a train to Baker Street. There they would be collected by their parents or guardians. The rest of us had to stay the extra day to be bussed the following morning to main line stations - in my case Watford Junction. We were also given sandwiches for the journey. Parents would have been notified to meet us at our destinations. We were given school reports, return tickets and a date and time to return by. In 1952, I was conditionally baptised in the Chapel (my mother couldn’t find my original certificate) followed by confirmation the following day. The next day, I had to report to the Sanatorium where I and three others had a tonsillectomy. I wonder if we were the last to utilise the theatre? The Harley Street Consultant gave me 2/6 as my tonsils were the largest! We remained in the Sanatorium until the end of term. 1954 started badly and there was a major flu epidemic. The Sanatorium was full and convalescents were sent to Ruspini House. As I had decided to go in for nursing, I was co-opted to help in the Sanatorium. In 1955, I was a probationer in the Sanatorium, prior to being accepted to commence my nursing training at Westminster Hospital in 1956. Again, as if by magic, my list of requirements to take with me to hospital appeared, down to trunk, cardigan, scarf, two pairs of black shoes, stockings, watch, umbrella and even a cup, saucer and plate! After obtaining my State Registered Nursing, I went to Liverpool to do a midwife teacher diploma. Now retired, I realise how lucky I was to have had such a good education and how much I owe to the generosity of the Freemasons. Duchess of Kent Visit 1954 19

Brenda Ross (Godwin), 1955, Ruspini; Lynn Cross (Godwin), 1961, Ruspini (written by Alison Vining, daughter of Brenda Ross) Brenda and Lynn Godwin attended RMS from 1950 onwards, Brenda was 12 and Lynn was seven when they joined. Lynn went to Weybridge first and moved to Rickmansworth for senior school. Although their father had not died, he abandoned the family. Their mother applied to the Masons for support with the girls’ education and argued that as he no longer supported them, they were in a similar position as if he had died. The girls were offered places, which enabled their mother to obtain a position as a Matron in another school. Brenda was terribly homesick and ended up in the San as a result. She managed to get over it but was never as happy as Lynn who loved it from the very first day. Brenda used to wave forlornly as they left home to catch the train to school saying ‘bye bye house’, whereas Lynn would skip along, anxious to get there. Brenda could not stomach the malt drink that all girls were expected to drink every night, but because of her homesickness she was allowed to drink milk instead. I think the staff must have been quite kind. Brenda was never very sporting, although she played tennis and hockey when she had to! She remembered Drill in the Hall and being taught to walk with a book on her head to improve her deportment. She learnt the piano and became quite good, although always dreaded making mistakes, as a ruler was sometimes used over her knuckles to ‘encourage’ her to do better.

Brenda Ross (Godwin) and Lynn Cross (Godwin) 1955 20

Lynn’s photos show that she was very involved in school life, playing hockey and tennis and becoming quite proficient on the piano and violin. She joined the Girl Guides and went on various trips and outings, including camping with the Guides and a trip to the Clan MacLeod cargo vessel. They were both at the School when the Queen visited in 1955 and appreciated the day’s holiday she requested for everyone. As they became more senior, they were allowed to go into town in pairs but were forbidden to go into Woolworths! When Brenda moved into the Sixth Form, the teachers were very keen that she should do A-Levels, but she was determined that she wanted to be a nurse and only stayed for one year of Sixth Form before leaving to start her nursing training. She trained in general nursing at St Mary’s Paddington and, at the same time, was chosen to do her psychiatric training at Virginia Water, winning the medal for coming top in her year when she qualified. She then trained as a midwife and worked as a psychiatric nurse in Oxford until her retirement. After school, Lynn went to secretarial college and then to work as a secretary at the BBC.

Lynn Cross (Godwin) 1951

Norma Hughes (Williams) 1955, Cumberland When I arrived at school in 1948 I was nine years old and went to Weybridge where the Headmistress was Miss Vaughan. Two years later I moved to Rickmansworth and was put into Cumberland House. There was a film made of the School in the very early 1950s and I was in it! I was the one who ended up in bed with a teddy. The Queen came in 1952 and we were asked to give her a big welcome as she was not yet used to being the Queen. There was a trip organised by Billy Smart; the whole school was taken to his circus in about ten coaches. Also, a well-known violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, performed a lovely concert in the Great Hall. He was a teenager then and we were told he was going to do well! Several other stars came on other occasions too. The dresses we wore had to be 2” below the knee! Very old fashioned compared with today.

Norma in bed with teddy, taken from the School Film

Valerie Balkwill 1956, Moira I was a pupil at the Royal Masonic School from 1946 to 1956 and I was privileged to see three Royal visits. As a pupil at the RMS Junior School in Weybridge, I thoroughly enjoyed being taken by coach to Rickmansworth to see King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. On 23rd March 1954, we were honoured when the Duchess of Kent visited to lay the foundation stone for the new domestic science block. This was another day to remember. The most wonderful visit of all was on 17 March 1955 when Queen Elizabeth II visited RMS. She was young and beautiful and she wore an emerald green coat. First, she walked down the centre of the Great Hall, so that we could all see her, and later she visited the dining hall where we were having tea. Afterwards, we all stood by the road near the administration block to watch her leave by car. My favourite subject at school was geography because I was already wanting to travel widely and see the world. In one geography lesson Miss Newnham showed us a black and white film of Uzbekistan and I promised myself that I would go there one day. Long haul travel was expensive back then so I was 66 when I achieved a brilliant visit to Khiva, Bukhara, Samarkand and Tashkent. I have since visited all the continents having been inspired to travel because of those geography lessons at school.

Valerie Balkwill, 1953

Christine Shellard (Jowett) 1956, Cumberland In 1948, my father died suddenly, leaving my mother to bring up five children all under the age of thirteen. In 1949, at the beginning of the summer term, I went to the Royal Masonic Institution for Girls at Rickmansworth. It certainly was an institution in those days, but had gradually modernised over the years and noticeably altered by the time my youngest sister Anthea left fourteen years later. I was used to being away from home during the war years and settled happily into this amazingly equipped establishment, built in the beautiful grounds. All the four Jowett sisters were in Cumberland House, the younger three having also attended the junior school at Weybridge. Looking back after a whole life in education, I believe we all received as good an education as was available in those post-war years. I particularly enjoyed music, english, latin and swimming - a rarity to have a school pool at that time. We had plenty of opportunities for all sports – hockey, lacrosse, netball, tennis and athletics, not forgetting the famous School Drill. There were maroon posture girdles for girls with straight backs (but sadly not for me). We were fully occupied from 7am to bed time - a rigid routine of morning and evening assemblies, eight lessons, domestic duties, supervised prep. Weekends were slightly different, with Saturday mornings mending or more sport, and on Sundays we had three chapel services, a crocodile walk, silent reading and the treasured weekly ration of six sweets.

With rationing still in force, meals were plain but usually adequate. We did manage to have frugal midnight feasts and talent competitions after lights out, in spite of a fierce House Matron and dormitory prefect trying to enforce silence. Today, I still luxuriate in my daily bath full of warm bubbles remembering that twice weekly affair governed by a strict black line.

Parents’ Day - 1954

The monthly Committee Day was an awesome event when we had to don our best uniform (itchy, navy, serge dress with detachable Peter Pan collar, enhanced by brown lisle stockings and black button strap shoes) and assemble before the penetrating eyes of the House Committee. A doubtful privilege for sixth formers was to dance ‘The Lancers’ with these imposing elderly gentlemen. Whole school events such as Prize Day, Sports Day, Old Girls Day and Christmas Carol services all helped to brighten the daily routine, and of course a termly visit from our mothers was the highlight. I can picture my mother now - always smart - having travelled from Norwich to Rickmansworth and having to face the long train journey home again after just three precious hours together. She always carried a bag full of forbidden goodies and took us out to tea and shopping in the village. We were also permitted birthday cakes by post and my mum’s delicious homemade creations always had a few chocolates hidden in the bottom. Other outings were rare but I do remember the hilarious annual guide camps at the end of the summer term, trips to the Royal Tournament, a London tour of the Coronation Lights, a visit to the local cinema to see ‘The Ascent of Everest’, and the never to be forgotten visit of Edmundo Ross and his band. I made some wonderful friends and still keep in regular touch with five of them. We had all come from bereaved, fatherless families and the Freemasons supported entry to the girls and boys junior and senior schools in which a quality education was provided. My thoroughly solid but rich education served me well for a graduate course at the Royal Academy of Music and 44 years teaching. At 18 I felt independent and ready for the world out there. I still treasure rich memories of my seven years as one of those privileged ‘orphans on the hill’ as we were known locally.....so proud to be one of the many ‘polished corners of the temple’.

Dinah Hawkins (French) 1956, Sussex I made some very good friends at RMIG (as it was then) and have some great memories of my time with them and the antics we got up to. At the Coronation in 1953, which we listened to on the ‘wireless’, we had to stand up for certain hymns and anthems. After lunch we had a rest on our beds before going into town to watch the parade and then the bonfire and fireworks. I had to wear my hat because I’d lost my ‘pixiehood’. I remember the Queen’s visit and Princess Marina, Duchess of Kent, who laid the foundation of the new domestic science wing. Waking up in Sussex House every morning, the prefect had to knock on the door of our Housemistress, Miss McColl, and say, ‘The girls in dormitories 1, 2, 3 and 4 are up and kneeling.’ We stayed like this until the prefect had finished her prayers. We also had to kneel again on the parquet flooring before bed time and if we were caught talking after lights out, we had to strip our beds and remake them a number of times or stand in the corridor with our arms up until it was thought we had stayed there long enough.

Dinah and friends Summer 1956

If the weather was bad on a Saturday, someone went around all the houses saying, ‘voluntary vaulting in the gym, you’ve eight to go.’ For years I thought that ‘voluntary’ was a style of vaulting. During the ‘flu epidemic, all the girls who caught it were moved into one house and were looked after by the St John Ambulance. We were given a piece of cheese and an orange each. As I did domestic science and my friend Christine didn’t, I’d smuggle her out a pancake in my blazer pocket after class, just before going into School Drill. When it snowed, we’d take it in turns to go out in it as there weren’t enough wellies for everyone and it was difficult to find a pair that fitted. For all its strict routine, the School gave me security, continuity and the strength to cope with the problems that get thrown at you through life.

Prefects and subs with Hockey Cups, 1955

Dinah with Christine Spencer in the snow - 1955

Sue Grinstead (Shaw) 1958, Zetland I felt so lucky to have gone to RMS, but can’t imagine what my mother felt like. We lost my father in the war flying Lancasters and so she was left with two little girls. I clearly remember crying when my mother dropped me off on my seventh birthday at Weybridge. I then had to eat revolting tapioca for lunch. I also remember going to the kitchen garden, which was out of bounds and stuffing gooseberries up my bloomers!! I made some fabulous friends in school and am still in touch with three of them.

Zetland girls

Sue’s sister Carolyn’s first day Sue Grinstead & Carolyn Shaw with their mother

Sewing Class, 1956

The wedding of Sports Mistress Miss Squires

Peggie Shields (Robinson) 1958, Zetland Having spent from January 1951 to July 1953 at the junior school in Weybridge, it was with great trepidation that I entered the gates of the senior school in Rickmansworth in September 1953 to learn that I was in Zetland House, with Miss Vickridge as my Housemistress. She was a very formidable lady but doted on her terrier dog, Dan. Thankfully we had Mrs Darnell as Matron and she was a quite large but very motherly soul. When she retired, she was replaced by Miss Thompson. We looked forward to our mothers’ visit from 2pm to 5pm, one Saturday per term, when she could take us out, but not to Watford as that was too near the boys’ school at Bushey. However, if you had earned a detention, your visit was only two hours, because detention would be held between 2pm and 3pm on Saturdays. You soon learnt to behave! We wrote letters home twice a week. I loved choir with Miss Maiden and we won several competitions. I also loved singing in the Chapel Choir. In July 1957 our sports’ mistress, Primrose Squires, married the School Chaplain and the Choir was asked to stay on for an extra few days at the end of term to sing at her wedding. It was a lovely occasion. School Drill was another favourite and I was thrilled to be able to perform it again in 2006 with other Old Girls, pupils and staff. Committee Days were also popular. Lord Harris and the other school governors would come for a meeting and then do an inspection of the School. We always had cake for tea on those occasions. The visit of the newly-crowned Queen was another highlight. She was so tiny and wore an emerald green coat and hat. She also gave us a day off school on the following Monday and although we could not go home, at least we weren’t in the classroom!

My sister Pat came up from Weybridge in 1956, but because year groups did not mix we did not have a lot to do with each other. She still reminds me that I was her sub-prefect in my last year and that I always blamed her for any noise that was being made! Solid friendships were made and are still going strong all these years later. It was a very strict regime run on almost military lines, but the Ricky ethos of head up and shoulders back, to face whatever hand you were dealt, has stood me, and I’m sure other Old Girls, in good stead.

Zetland Belles -1956

Peggy Shields and Sue Shaw leaving photo -1959

Peggy and Sue relaxing after O-levels

Dinah Sansom (Spencer) 1958, Moira I joined the Royal Masonic junior school at Weybridge in 1947 and went onto Rickmansworth in the early fifties. My main memories of Moira are of a very caring House Matron in contrast to a rather severe Housemistress. While on holiday in Bournemouth as a girl, I met a Freemason who was very keen to visit the School. He came to visit one Saturday and after showing him around he gave me a large tray of chocolate bars to be shared amongst friends. They were promptly confiscated by Miss East and never seen again! My sister came up to Rickmansworth in 1955 and we remember trailing up from the station with a portable gramophone which was very popular in the common room. I can remember going camping with Girl Guides under Miss Ashley. We went to Battle in East Sussex and it meant losing a week’s precious holiday. We also enjoyed Scottish dancing under Miss Mason in the Great Hall.

Dinah Sansom and Margaret Jarvis

Dinah Sansom prefect 1957 33

Joan Grandorge (Olsen) 1958, Connaught Letter home, Queen’s visit 1955 Dear Mummy and Nana, It’s all over. I really do feel like a pricked balloon! What an exciting day. First of all we had extra time to do duties, this was well occupied as everything had to look beautiful! We only had two ½ hour lessons, then recess. Then we had to go and tidy the classrooms. Next we had dinner – gosh what a measly one, I expect it was to keep the kitchen clean. After dinner it was time to get ready and go to the Hall. When we got there we had a long wait. Then the moment came – we all stood up and Her Majesty walked through the doors at the back of the platform. She walked forward to the edge of the platform and stood while we sung the National Anthem. Then the Queen went to speak to various girls – she said to Miss Fryer ‘They don’t seem to be having very much for tea - surely they are hungry’. Then Miss Fryer had to explain that it was just mock tea – Miss Fryer said the Queen was relieved. I think she was rather nervous. Then she went to Ruspini House where some girls were playing games and reading. She spoke to them, then she looked round the new buildings. Later she went to the prefects’ room and signed the Royal Visitors’ Book – she talked a bit with the prefects and said she thought School Drill was wonderful. She went through Chapel, came out and got into the car which had a miniature Royal Standard flying on the roof. She was driven slowly down the drive and we all cheered – I was awfully sad when she’d gone.

Joan’s letter to her mother and nana

The only thing that spoilt the day were the cameramen. They were all over the place – even in the dining room! What horrible flashy cameras. In School Drill, they sat in the front row and the poor Weybridge kids could hardly see. I just can’t get over the Queen, she’s so young and looked shy. I can’t explain, she’s got such a wonderful expression. She told Miss Fryer that she really had enjoyed herself very much and that it had been very interesting. Miss Fryer said she paid us a compliment when talking to her – but she wasn’t to tell us – frightened we would get too swellheaded. H.M. said she thought we had beautiful buildings. The Lord Chamberlain (Earl of Scarborough) said that on all the occasions and places where he has been with the Queen he’s never heard the National Anthem sung as it should be except at our school. On Friday evening we were allowed to make a tour of the new buildings (just the downstairs), I couldn’t believe my eyes. They are absolutely super. We saw two domestic science rooms. They both have blue and cream tiled walls, one has seven electric cookers in. One has a washing machine and many other modern gadgets. The rooms themselves are very big and airy. We have just been told by Miss Fryer to tell you that there will be a bit about us on every single newsreel there is at the end of the week (I expect that means TV too). I must do my music prep now. Love Joan

Kay Walker (Greenwell) 1959, Atholl In the summer of 1959, during my last term at Ricky, a few of us decided to have a midnight feast in the gym in half term. We had sweets, crisps and fizzy pop! All went well, leaving our respective Houses and making our way to the gym. I suppose we were there for about an hour, just chatting and enjoying ourselves. On returning, one of the group was seen entering her House. The next morning at assembly, Miss Fryer, the Headmistress, asked all of those girls who had been in gym the night before to stay behind. We all owned up! I cannot remember what happened then, but that night we were woken up and taken to sit in the gym, for around an hour without speaking. I think this went on for a couple of nights. In the morning, before we went to breakfast, I was told to change places with the most junior member of the House. From then on, until the end of term, I had to stand in her place at assembly and sit in her place for meals. I must admit, it was worth it though!

Kay, l959, leaving photo

We got up to all sorts of other mischief over our years at Ricky, like eating chestnuts before we were allowed to and going into the old air raid tunnels......but that’s another story!

Jill Gesseau (Doucy) 1959, Moira I have so many memories, I hardly know where to begin! I started at RMS in April 1948, about a week or so after my seventh birthday. As a new girl, I arrived after the term had begun. My mother accompanied me by train, from the Isle of Sheppey, Kent, and we walked up to the School from Weybridge Station. Our first sight of the Junior Masonic School was fantastic, as all the beautiful and colourful rhododendrons in the front garden were in full bloom. Naturally, we stopped to admire them! Jill aged 15, 1956 On our arrival, the Headmistress, Miss Vaughan, greeted us and said that one of the pupils - Margaret Iball - would show us around the School and answer all our questions. Margaret duly did so, for about an hour. Then suddenly, when I turned around to speak to my mother, I realised that she was no longer there! ‘Where’s mummy?’ I asked Margaret. ‘Oh, she’s left already,’ replied Margaret, casually. What a shock that was! I hadn’t even said goodbye to my mother! Although I felt like crying, I knew very well that, at the advanced age of seven, crying was out of the question! So, somehow, I managed to swallow my tears. (Much later, when at last I saw my mother again, she told me that she’d been advised to leave the School very quietly, while I wasn’t looking, to avoid a tearful farewell.) On that first day, I was informed that I’d be in dormitory 3 and that my number was 39. We had to go to bed very early, at about 6pm, after ‘early bedders’ supper’. (Like everyone else, I soon learned to chant: ‘early bedders’ supper, stale bread and butter!’).

Visiting Windsor Castle left to right top: Gereldine Mitchell, Ann Harrison, Jill Darcey, Left to right bottom: Ann Saunders, Judith Woodland, Jennifer Giles 38

The girls in dormitory three were very friendly and, on that first evening, they asked me lots of questions about my home and family. Then one of the matrons, Miss Ormerod, came to switch off the lights and bid us all goodnight. (No one had mentioned the rule of ‘no talking after lights out’). A few minutes after the Matron had left, the girls in the nearest beds started talking to me again - and I eagerly answered their questions. Then, suddenly, loud footsteps were heard in the corridor and Miss Ormerod snapped on the lights and asked who had been talking. Naively, I raised my hand, and was ordered to get up, strip my bed and then re-make it ten times! (As it happened, I’d never made a bed on my own, as my devoted mother had always helped me).

Sports day - 1957 - Moira House team came 2nd

Strangely enough, the girls who had been talking to me had fallen fast asleep, all of a sudden! However, the Matron knew I wasn’t the only culprit and she ordered the girls who had been talking to get up and make their beds ten times as well. No one moved! ‘Dinah! Susan! Valerie! Get up this minute and make your beds ten times!’ ordered Miss Ormerod, shaking the three girls in question. They all blinked and yawned and looked so innocent, but were obliged to get up and make their beds. (This seemed to be the standard punishment for talking after lights out). It was amazing how fast those three seven-year-olds made their beds, re-stripping and remaking them, whilst I struggled with the unfamiliar task. (In fact, I have never seen ANYONE make beds as fast as those three small girls). They had finished and were allowed back to bed whilst I was only on my third attempt. After much effort, I managed a couple more times, until Miss Ormerod became fed-up with waiting and I was allowed to return to bed at last. (Naturally, from then on, I made sure that I always appeared to be fast asleep, whenever any of the teachers or matrons burst into the dormitory, to ask who had been talking...).

Cheryl Lang (Lloyd) 1959, Connaught The Queen visited the School during my first term there. The 11th March 1955 was the big day, but the days and weeks beforehand were hectic. There were endless rehearsals and checks for everything, from our best dresses, shoes and lisle stockings, to those taking part in School Drill. I particularly remember standing in line in the Great Hall, along with the rest of the School, while a member of staff acted as the Queen and walked in a stately fashion down the middle. As she approached each line, we curtsied. We practised this until it was a perfect rippling wave down the Hall. In the huge dining hall, my House, Connaught, was placed at the far end and my decade was next to the double doors that had the best view along the corridor. As the newest and youngest pupil, l had the middle seat. My role was to watch that corridor and as soon as I spotted the entourage, I was to stand up. This was a signal for the whole school to stand. I was not allowed to eat my afternoon tea, or look away, in case I missed her. On the big day, the Queen was welcomed by the Earl of Scarborough, Sir Alan Adair, and Miss Fryer, the Head, in her best gown and mortar board and very shiny shoes. They toured various parts of the School and we waited nervously in the dining hall. As soon as I spotted the first shoe approaching, I shot out of my seat. The air was filled with the sound of chairs scraping back and conversations rapidly dried up into a breathless hush. I kept watching as the Queen approached and she smiled at me. I smiled shyly back. The rest of the visit went well and the Queen requested a day’s holiday for us. This was received with cheers and clapping. As she departed, we all ran alongside the royal car, cheering and waving her goodbye. The visit even made it onto Pathé News. Miss Audrey Fryer Headmistress 1941 to 1959 40

Pamela Harper (Anderson) 1959, Sussex Celia Turnbull (Anderson) 1962, Sussex In September 1954, my sister Celia and I were taken to Rickmansworth by the Headmistress of our school in Durham. The Freemasons of our father’s lodge had sent us to this school until places at RMS became available. We spent our first night in Sussex House and the next day, Miss Fenton took us to Weybridge as Celia was to spend a year there. I was then taken back to Rickmansworth where I was a pupil until 1959. In the summer of 1955, an Old Girl from Sussex House, Sylvia Hedges (Bolt) asked the Housemistress if there was anyone in the House that did not have visitors. Miss McColl told her about me. Our father, a member of the Whitworth Lodge, was killed on the last day of the war and our mother had died in 1954. Sylvia and her husband David, also a Mason, took me to their home in Watford and even offered to go to Weybridge for Celia. Celia came to the senior school in September and every half term we went to Watford. Sylvia always made us a birthday cake. I left school in 1959 and whenever I would go back to visit Celia, I always stayed with Sylvia and her husband. Celia and I will always be grateful for the advantages that RMS gave us. Junior school, Weybridge

Marilyn Jobson-Scott (Andersen), 1960, Zetland I arrived at Weybridge train station with my mother in January 1954, two days after my seventh birthday. This was the last time I was with my mother on my birthday until I was an adult. As we stood on the platform we noticed several other women with young girls who were obviously heading to the same place. After a quick chat we decided to share a taxi to the School. On arrival at the large house that would be my home for the next few years, we were taken into a panelled room that was the dining room. We soon learned that when an adult stood in a certain spot we had to stop talking - it was the silence spot. We were each given a few simple tests to see if we could read and write. Our parents then had to leave. I learned many years later that after sharing a taxi to the station our parents sat in the waiting room in tears. We were taken to a dormitory and given a uniform to put on and given a number; I was 57. After changing into the uniform, our clothes were removed and we would not see them again until the term ended. Playtime was always popular. In winter we wore knitted pixie hoods outside and kept warm playing on roller skates around the upper playground. Another popular game was hopscotch. Chalk grids were drawn but soon washed away in the rain. Then someone discovered that dragging our heel on the ground made a good black line and soon there were lots of hopscotch pitches everywhere. This was not popular with staff as it wore down our shoes and disfigured the ground. Eventually, this was banned but a proper hopscotch pitch was painted for us to use.

The summer term of 1953 brought great excitement. We learned that because of the Coronation, girls who lived near Weybridge would be allowed to go home for a few days while the rest of us would have a break from lessons and extra activities would be arranged. A few days into the start of the term, I was playing out on the lower playground when I noticed an itchy spot. As I undressed for bedtime, more spots had appeared. In the morning Matron had a look and I was promptly whisked off to the Sanatorium. It was Chickenpox! I spent quite a long time in the San all alone. Although the staff was worried that there would be a major outbreak of Chickenpox, no-one else caught it, so fortunately the Coronation plans were able to go ahead. We were all given a special book called ‘Elizabeth Our Queen’ by Richard Dimbleby and our names were written inside. On the day of the Coronation we were told to wait in our classrooms after breakfast. Then we went to the common room, where a large screen had appeared, and we all sat on the floor to watch the Coronation and procession. To small children, this seemed endless. The most excitement was when suddenly there was a flurry of movement from the girls in front of me – one young girl had wet herself and these girls were trying to move out of the way of the large puddle that was forming near them! Zetland girls in their dorm - circa 1958

Prudence Cook 1960, Alex WEYBRIDGE My Father died very suddenly in October 1951. In September 1952, when I was nine years old, I arrived at The Royal Masonic School in Weybridge. I still remember the pebble drive and the comforting oak-panelled dining room. I would only see my mother once over the next twelve weeks. I could not wait to make new friends. It did not turn out to be quite so easy and within a week I was desperately homesick and extremely unhappy. I fear it lasted most of my schooldays though as Miss Vaughan once remarked to my Mother, ‘Prudence is not as unhappy as she thinks she is’. Indeed I was even allowed a pet rabbit. I did, however give my mother and staff a very hard time. Especially looking back on it from a ‘grown-up’ perspective. I remember roller skating on both the upper and lower playing areas; the gym frames on the front lawn; the hopscotch; our garden plots by the swings; the play-house in Miss Lock’s classroom; learning the piano and playing ‘March Militaire’ in a duet. I particularly remember at the end of the Christmas term sitting in front of the grand fireplace in the dining room and being given a malteser - a treat never to be forgotten. The dining room held many memories. All food had to be eaten, whether one liked it or not. Fortunately for me, Angela Lock, who sat next to me, liked meat. I did not, so I secretly swapped meat for potatoes, consequently putting on a lot of weight. I remember the ‘silent spot’ where Miss Man would stand with arms folded, nobody would even dare whisper. My dormitory was in the new wing, complete with wooden floors and metal bed frames. There was a chair and cupboard by my bed. Toothpaste came in tins and there was no talking after lights out. We wore liberty bodices and a top on which our skirts were buttoned

Occasionally we walked in crocodiles over the local common. On Sundays we walked in crocodiles to St James’ Church for ‘Sunday School’. We were always smartly turned out; gloves, smart coat, navy felt hat and black lace-up shoes. We wore school uniform at all times. Home clothes were forbidden. RICKMANSWORTH I moved up to ‘Ricky’ in September 1954. I arrived with Mother and my brother, Robert. We drove through the imposing gates with the magnificent administration building in front of us and the Sanatorium to the left. We turned right, passed the back of the Chapel and through the Arch into the Garth and viewed the eight houses, connected by cloisters. I had been allocated to Alexandra House - the best in the School - as had Pat Dixon, with whom I am still in touch, Jennifer Hughes and Susan Groundsel. We were met by Goat (Miss Newman) and I was appointed a House Mother, Ann Roberts, who would teach me the ropes. DINING HALL We lined up in the corridor then walked into the Hall to our appointed seat. In those days we sat at beautiful oak refectory tables. There was a piano in the Hall so we sang Grace before and after meals. We kept our napkins in embroidered pochettes. I had embroidered mine with two bunnies, a big one and a little one.

A poem written by Prudence Cook for Machio - The Girls’ Masonic Magazine

THE GREAT HALL This beautiful hall remains today just as it was in my day. Miss Fryer, the Headmistress, a most amazing and fair minded woman, took assembly. Commencing with hymns and prayers followed by items of School News. On one occasion, I was dreaming away and suddenly heard ‘Middle School Prize for Perseverance and Assiduity - Prudence Cook!’ I whispered to my friend, ‘What does that mean?’ and she replied, ‘you tried hard but are not good enough!’ CLASSROOM CORRIDOR This eighth of a mile corridor with beautiful parquet flooring housed all classrooms. How embarrassing it could be to be sent out of class, standing face to the wall with seniors passing!!! It was forbidden to run in the corridor. It could be difficult to find oneself at the wrong end - needing to get to the music wing when in the gym. GYMNASIUM I loved the gym, the boxes, the horses, the ropes and bars. I think everybody enjoyed gym and what a character Miss Crossley was. A short plump elderly woman with long grey hair, who wore a short navy tunic held in place with a purple sash and wrinkly lisle stockings. The mind boggles to this day - she was very good at her job and School Drill. DISCIPLINE This was very strict. An order mark for a small offence, dumb insolence or being late. The prefect handed out lines. Detention for a moderate crime, like being rude to a mistress. This was half an hour in a classroom on Saturday afternoon and a lecture from the Housemistress. For serious crimes such as being out of bounds, a conduct mark was given which meant being sent to the Headmistress and an hour’s detention on Saturday afternoon. Very unpleasant. FUN Naturally, we all made the most of things, midnight feasts with food sneaked from the dining hall, house plays, teasing mistresses and all the things young girls get up to.

Swimming 1959

Rosanne Tempest-Holt (Parkin) 1960, Cumberland So many people have said how wonderful it was to go to Weybridge, but for me it was much more - I think it was some sort of life-saver. It was in 1948 that my sister Diane and I first went to Weybridge. She was nine years old and I was just six. At that time you had to have lost your father and he had to have been a Mason - but I need to go back a few years to give you the whole story. How I wished I had been born in the Home Counties, like so many other people. But I was born in captivity, as a prisoner of war in occupied China, and starved for the first three and a half years of my life. By the time I reached Weybridge I had lost my father and maternal grandmother; taken part in roll-calls three times a day; seen a dead body hanging on barbed wire; been given ground egg shell to eat as a possible calcium supplement; eaten the most shocking things (which I certainly won’t tell you about!) By the time I reached Weybridge, I had flown over the Himalayas without oxygen (your face swells up out of all recognition!). I had lived in India, and seen water buffaloes and Gilly Gilly men (local magicians). I had flown round the world in an assortment of battered aircraft; been to many ‘schools’ which were often informal gatherings of assorted children, and been given my first ever possession – a large doll with a china head, with painted on hair in the short wavy style of the 1930s. She had a dress that fitted her perfectly – and also fitted me! I must have been very small. I had seen the Sphinx and the Pyramids; sailed on the Queen Elizabeth across the Atlantic; seen the Rocky Mountains of Canada and finally had come to rest in England! Early memories of my arrival in Weybridge are very sketchy. For a long time I was very vague, with the concentration of a fruit fly! You would think that with all the experiences I had had at an early age I would have been some sort of prodigy. It was the complete opposite. It must have taken me a long time to get to grips with actually learning anything. Everyone who had been interned and starved came away with health problems, and Weybridge was the best place to be to recover. I used to have to visit Sister every morning to be given cod liver oil and malt and chocolate coated calcium granules. My hair still came out of the back of my head in clumps, and I was fitted with a pair of owl-eye glasses, with a patch over one eye to make the dodgy one more active.

No one had ever before asked me to put on so many strange clothes. What on earth was a liberty bodice? But the really exciting part of all of this was when a vast, cavernous cupboard under the great sweep of the stairs was opened and each one of us was fitted with bright, shiny shoes. None of them were new, but I do remember the excitement I felt at seeing all of those shiny shoes. For much of my early life there were no shoes! If I think back to Weybridge days, one of the fondest memories that I still have is of winter evenings in that great dark brown hall, in front of large log fires, sitting at long tables cutting and making ‘things’. I remember we were often outside, getting fresh air. We always seemed to be putting on coats and going for walks, two by two. There was always a lot of music at Weybridge. Up until I first went to school I had been exposed to very little music, so that was a great joy. We were always in tidy rows, on tiny benches singing hymns and carols. I remember getting Chickenpox just in time for Christmas and having to stay behind with Sister and a skeleton staff. I think I did the same thing with whooping cough one Easter. I must have been a really irritating child. I joined the Brownies – we all did. We dressed up in uniforms; learned new skills and gained badges. I can’t remember a single thing I learned or gained with the Brownies, but I did feel comfortable as part of that group. I belonged. I don’t remember lessons specifically, but we must have learned something! We were all very small and very independent. It was a happy time! School leavers -1960 49

Art class - 1956

Machio - 1952

Patricia Grace Barker (Robinson) 1961, Zetland My memories of being at Weybridge are numerous, despite the decades that separate my time there. Here are a few recollections: I can see the Headmistress, Miss Vaughan, and being measured for brand new Clarke’s sandals; joining the Brownies as a Pixie; the doctor telling me I had ‘knock knees’; sitting in the Hall when George Cansdale, a television celebrity of that time, visited with his two pythons and a bushbaby. We had to sit very still whilst the snakes were passed along the rows and I remember hating this as I have a phobia of snakes! Probably the most nostalgic memory is that of our mother on the train journey from Waterloo, knowing she would be on her own once again.

Prize Day at Weybridge -1954 51

Penny Cookson (Pryor) 1961, Atholl I entered RMS on the 22nd September 1956 as an 11-year-old. Being driven down the long path to the main entrance, a fear or dread swept over me for what lay ahead. Miss Fryer was the Headmistress and we were shown into her study. After all the introductions had been made, I was whisked off to Atholl House with somebody clutching my ‘Rosemary Rabbit’ that my brother had given me. All seemed very strange to me as it was nothing like any of the other schools I had attended. I was taken to the dormitory and shown my bed and the bedside cabinet where I could put all my things. The wardrobe was very small, more like an alley-way, with a drawer underneath. Having settled into the dormitory, I was taken down to meet the Housemistress, a Miss Lilian Funnell. My first year was all very strange and I do not remember a lot about it. The second year was much better because a new girl from the junior school in Weybridge came to our House, her name was Monica Drake (Henn). We clicked straight away and have been good friends ever since.

Penny in the Garth

Atholl House girls

Monica and I joined in most things and were in the same class right the way through the following years. We both enjoyed housecraft and lessons where we learnt to cook. One year we all made Christmas cakes, iced them and took them home. Monica’s cake did not travel home at all well! Meal times always seemed to be rushed. The ‘maids’ would start at end of the table and before you were finished, they were gathering up the plates at the other end. This is the reason I have always eaten my meals quite quickly. Monica and I were both confirmed in the Chapel on the 10th March 1960. We were presented with a book called ‘My Prayer Book for Women and Girls’ with introductions by the Archbishop of Canterbury and a dedication by permission of the late Bishop of York, at the price of three shillings. In July 1961, I received a ‘Faculty of Teachers in Commerce’ to certify that I had passed an exam in elementary typing. I also received a prize for ‘Perseverance and Assiduity’ by the Provence of Somerset. I chose a book called ‘Good Housekeeping Cookery Book’ which I still have to this day. On leaving School, Lord Harris presented us with a black Holy Bible and Common Prayer Book. We left school with brand new clothes – a dress, a coat, hat, gloves and shoes, together with a brand new £1.00 note from the Royal Mint, which I also have kept to this day.

Atholl House girls

Outside the Chapel. Middle row - Penny Pryor (2nd left), Monica Henn (1st right)

Evelyn Olsen 1962, Connaught Letter home, 1955, Queen’s visit. My Dear Mummy and Nana, Thank you very much for everything you have sent me. And thank you very much for the game of Catch-It, Margaret and I are having good fun with them. I am enclosing this letter from Margaret to thank you for it. Will you write back? I had a lovely time on Friday. We went to bed earlier on Thursday night but only a few minutes, we got up the same time as usual though. After breakfast we had to do our duties and go outside until the bell went for us to come in. When it went we all came in and got changed. Four coaches came for us. I was in bus one, Margaret was in bus two. We were set into two groups to go into two different houses for dinner. I was in Zetland so was Margaret. The other house was Cumberland. On the way there we had a barley sugar, a biscuit and an apple. When we got there we rehearsed a little bit while the Ricky girls were in class. A time after dinner we were allowed to see our friends and sisters. I saw Joan and Judith came with her. In the afternoon we went into the Hall, we had to wait for a few minutes but then the Queen came in, in a green coat and hat. She looked lovely. Then we sang the National Anthem. After that the bouquet was presented. The girl that presented it was Rosemary Kidson. She isn’t the youngest in the school but she is in C form. After that the Head Girl was presented to her by Miss Fryer. Weybridge were right in the front.

After tea, the School Drill was done in front of the Queen. We were in the Gallery for that. It was ever so good. Last Tuesday I went to the eye specialist. I think I am having some new glasses. This time in two weeks and four days we will be at home again. Well I have no more news now but send heaps and heaps and heaps and HEAPS of love. Your darling Evelyn xxxxx

Anne Clark (Margaret Speight) 1964, Cumberland It must have been 1959 and I was going to be 11 years old on the 23rd February. I was in school at Weybridge, my only year there before senior school at Rickmansworth. It was usual for the post to be distributed as breakfast finished, so I struggled through my meal with excited thoughts of cards and parcels to come. Alas, absolute tragedy! No cards, no parcels or presents. After breakfast we had to return to the dormitory to make our beds and there I collapsed in floods of tears. I couldn’t believe that even my mother could have forgotten my birthday. It turned out that Miss Mann, the Head Matron, had decided that my birthday was on the 24th so she had put everything aside for the next day. How could she make such a mistake? After much ado, I was reunited with my cards and presents, all except one which looked like a box of Cadbury’s Milk Tray. I was sure my godmother would not have sent chocolates, knowing they were banned, so I asked to open the box which revealed a knitting bag. I left school in 1964, yet this hapless memory has stayed with me.

Machio 1955

Life at RMS - Some reminiscences from five Ruspini prefects: Aileen Cockshut, 1958, Ruspini; Gillian Beetham (Lewis), 1959, Ruspini; Marjorie Caygill, 1959, Ruspini; Judith Crowe (Oxley), 1959, Ruspini; Lesley Saltmarsh (Simpson), 1959, Ruspini. LIFE IN RUSPINI HOUSE The eight houses were identical in design but varied in character according to the nature of their staff, residents and location. Ruspini had the advantages of being conveniently nearest to the main building and also to the path down to the lower playing fields (Lowers) and the pond. We lived largely in two rather bleak ground floor common rooms (senior and junior). The House was permeated by the institutional smell of floor polish. During the ‘Great Smog of London’ in December 1952, there was an unpleasant smoky atmosphere indoors and a yellowish haze which also obscured the length of the Great Hall and hung around in the ‘cloisters’. There was the noise of the frequent clattering of feet down the two wooden staircases from the first floor dormitories, taken two scary steps at a time by the more athletic. There were 50 to 53 residents from a range of ages. We were each allocated a number on arrival which was sewn into, or written on all clothes, personal equipment, cloakroom pegs, etc. Supporting the resident staff were four prefects (rather grand and held in some awe by juniors). These were assisted by four sub-prefects, each pair in charge of one of four large dormitories (arranged by age groups), and a ‘decade’ - a rectangular table in the dining hall (mixed ages with the youngest seated in the middle). The decades were reshuffled by the prefects each term with consideration given to whose turn it was for the best or worst behaved and how the ‘mix’ would work. At each end of the ground floor was a study shared by two prefects, providing a little privacy which was otherwise rarely available.

STAFF The staff consisted of the Housemistress Miss Atherton (‘Bill’) (elegant, with a Northern accent, now remembered as a ‘good thing’ who was benign even when dealing with our misbehaviour). Her study was in the middle of the ground floor corridor. On her retirement in July 1956 she was succeeded by Miss Enid Cooper (‘Scoops’), who taught maths. The Deputy was Jill Hopkins, past gold medallist, who was subsequently much involved with the OMGA. The resident Matron was Miss Fear (whose surname was not entirely inappropriate). COMMON ROOMS The Junior Common Room (forms I-III) each had its own unwritten rules enforced by the older girls, with status according to age. The room was divided by invisible boundaries into three sections. In the absence of a radio we had to make our own entertainment. One girl owned a wind-up gramophone with two records, played interminably: Carolina Moon and Entry of the Gladiators. There was also the more boisterous ‘boom coming over’ game – trying to get round at speed without touching the floor. Otherwise, we read, talked, knitted, played board games and did jigsaws. We went for walks round the grounds (sometimes beyond – if we could get away with it). During the week there was in any case only limited spare time after evening prep. Form IV upwards occupied the Senior Common Room and usually juniors had to obtain permission to enter. This was where the House lined up in ‘decades’ on weekday mornings to be greeted (and sometimes admonished) by the Housemistress before going into breakfast. At some point, possibly for the Coronation, a radio was purchased. Judith recalls rushing back from prep to hear ‘Journey into Space’ and Gillian remembers us crowding round the radio and crying during the 1956 Hungarian Revolution because there was nothing we could do to help as the tanks rolled in. At times we knitted squares (or something approximating to a square) for refugee blankets. By 1956, our private musical taste had changed to Bill Hailey’s ‘Rock around the Clock’.

There was a picture on the wall above the piano. It was a tradition for those Ruspini girls about to leave to inscribe their names on the back of this picture, along with their hopes for the future – husbands, children, careers – with an indication that they would return to demonstrate their successes. We did come back one Old Girls’ Day a decade or so later but the picture had disappeared. The Matron, Miss Fear, controlled much of our daily lives, beginning with the start of term clothing parades when we stood in height order and uniforms were handed down as we grew out of them. The School experienced two waves of Asian flu in 1957/58. Those infected were kept in isolation houses and those who were well were moved out to fill spaces elsewhere. The flu could arrive very suddenly and we were confined to bed for a few days. Teaching staff served food and heavily diluted orange squash. There was a second wave dealt with in the same way. Illnesses such as Chickenpox meant a stay in the San. Aileen developed Chickenpox spots a day before her birthday, delayed announcing this and was rapidly followed to the San ten days later by more infected members of the House also covered in spots. Marjorie recalls, as a high point in school life, sitting all day (with spots) isolated in the sunlit meadow behind, reading. We, or at least later arrivals, had to take the painful ‘Schick test’ to check immunity against diphtheria. We were among the fortunate generation to receive the first Salk vaccine against polio. There was an excellent, if painful, dental service.

Beds were made at speed with ‘hospital corners’. Morning Prayers, kneeling at the bedside, were supervised by prefects and Matron. One end of term nightmare was ‘bed brushing’ when, in the brief time after kneeling for Prayers and before going to breakfast, we had to brush mattresses and springs before making the bed. Matron handed out one of two types of brush and urged us on but there were never enough brushes for the time available. After breakfast during the week we were assigned duties, the unpleasantness and responsibility of which varied according to our recent perceived good or bad conduct. For one term, Maureen had to tidy and dust Miss Atherton’s bedroom. She thought to improve her ‘silver’ dressing table set by breathing on it – unfortunately it can’t have been silver as it began to mysteriously develop rust. She was subsequently demoted to picking up grubby litter outside the building.

Coronation sampler – embroidered by Marjorie Caygill

Ruspini members of the Geog Soc modelling a variety of winter uniforms. Autumn 1956 61

THE CORONATION AND THE QUEEN’S VISIT The Queen’s visit (1955): We were taught in advance how to curtsey for the Queen’s visit in 1955 (which, for some of us, came in useful later). On the 11th March 1955, Her Majesty entered the Great Hall from the back of the stage, with the Head Girl (Sally Grantham) being presented at the foot of the steps. The Queen then walked down the middle of the Hall through rows of curtseying girls. Ruspini House was selected to host a house tour, being nearest, in those days, to the Main Block. The girls chosen to be present (about half the House) were assembled in one of the common rooms. They had each been told in which activity they were to be engrossed on the Queen's entry (whether they really enjoyed this activity or not!) This was supposed to show the diverse interests and hobbies we all had. I only remember that one was 'reading', one was 'knitting', one was 'sewing' (this was Lesley Simpson who told the Queen - when asked – that she was smocking a frock for her baby niece). For me, it was to demonstrate a jigsaw puzzle. This was something I didn't enjoy at all and didn't own a jigsaw myself, so had to borrow one. The jigsaw had to be almost finished (but not by me!) as the Queen was escorted into the room by our House Mistress, Miss Atherton. To our horror, Miss A., probably feeling very nervous, announced to H.M. ‘This is Aileen doing a crossword puzzle.’ I can't remember exactly but, although we had been told NOT to speak unless we were spoken to, I am pretty sure that I uttered the correction of ‘JIGSAW!’ The Queen remarked, ‘How charming to do a circular jigsaw!’ And my much-rehearsed reply ‘Yes, Your Majesty!’ Aileen Cockshut (left) meets HM The Queen at Ruspini House, 1955

BEING A PREFECT Each term, junior forms elected a ‘form prefect’ from amongst themselves, who had the unenviable task of acting as form representative and on occasions attempting to control prep. The next rung on the ladder was to be appointed a sub-prefect by the Housemistress at the age of around 15 or 16. Promotion to prefect was marked by the issue of a metal enamelled star with one’s name inscribed in copperplate writing on the back, pinned on by a slightly embarrassed Chairman on Committee Day. School prefects, selected later for merit, were awarded the right to wear a bar beneath the star and could take Saturday tea in their common room. There were some privileges – a study in which to entertain friends from other houses for supper parties and, more formally, the staff and the Headmistress. Pairs of prefects, sub-prefects and seniors were allowed to go down to Rickmansworth on Saturday afternoons. Responsibilities included keeping order, particularly supervising evening prep (which was not a good combination with working for O and A levels). Prefects and staff were in charge of Sunday walks (often to Loudwater or along the Grand Union Canal) and, over the weekend prefects were, according to a regular schedule, required to patrol the grounds. A particular privilege was that one could take an evening bath, rather than participate in the usual morning dormitory schedule of three people and two baths, and also go to bed later. Sports Day 1956: Ruspini House wins the Sports Cup 63

BREAKING THE RULES Although the system was strictly regimented, there was considerable scope for breaking the rules. Among the most frequently enforced rules was ‘no running in the corridor’. Staff crept round to ensure there was no talking in the dormitories after lights out. One could get into trouble for not having a hymn book (Ancient & Modern) when required. More heinous ‘crimes’ included breaking bounds. Just outside the boundary fence a group of us found a place to eat ‘gypsy rhubarb’. We weren’t sure what the plant was, but obviously it was not poisonous. Occasionally it might be possible to cross over and paddle in the watercress beds (the Fisheries) alongside the Lowers. Midnight swimming happened via a complicated route involving ladders and the roof. Aileen describes this as a magical occasion, with light provided by torches - a combination of excitement and terror of getting caught. It was possible to penetrate into the air raid shelters (the trenches). We also discovered and explored intriguing service tunnels beneath the building until one careless member of Ruspini was caught and the entrance locked. Birthday cakes or presents from visiting family had to be shared on the day acquired but sometimes there was a revealing procession of ants into lockers where food was squirrelled away. We occasionally helped ourselves to gooseberries from the kitchen garden. From time to time, there were midnight feasts in the bathrooms during which the excitement of trying not to be caught surpassed the quality of the food. There was an experimental period of making ‘butter’ by incubating a small bottle of milk. One member of the House smuggled in a long sports bag full of fruit, cake and pork pies (cut up later using coat hangers). Prefects could issue house marks and impose punishments, such as having to learn by heart and repeat Psalms or long poems. Detentions were issued for Saturday afternoons. Conduct marks for serious misdemeanours were handed out at an interview by the Headmistress. There would be a summons to join the small morning queue outside Miss Fryer’s office in the admin block.

OUTSIDE RMS We would often start the term with a personal calendar and cross off each day, excitement rising as the end of term came nearer. We celebrated our forthcoming freedom and bade farewell to leavers by rowdily singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ during the last breakfast and there was the chant, ‘This time next week where shall I be; Not in this RMIG…..’ There were occasional organised outside visits: London Zoo, Children’s concerts at the Festival Hall, the circus, Richard III at the local cinema, the Garrick Club, Parliament. Many girls fondly remember the opportunities for escape and enjoyment associated with voluntarily becoming Girl Guides. Lesley writes: ‘I think Guides, for me, was a way to escape, if a rather bizarre one, from the general routine and a way to get out of school. Rangers could travel alone to Watford and eat chips on the way back. Sea Rangers had access to boats at the local Aquadrome.’

RMS Girl by J. Mirfin - Machio 1958

LEAVING RMS In the summer term, groups of leaving girls were invited for a farewell visit and interview at Freemasons’ Hall, Great Queen Street. We also visited a London department store to choose from a selection set aside, a longed-for ‘demob outfit’. We had little experience of wearing ‘civvies’: Marjorie acquired a bright nasturtium raincoat and a bouclé grey suit; Aileen remembers an awful brown dress, turquoise raincoat and red court shoes. Before we finally departed for the outside world, Miss Fryer gave a cautionary address to the leaving girls, details of which we were advised not to pass on to those remaining. Many of us recall leavers being warned that one cocktail was acceptable, two might sometimes be taken, but NEVER THREE. We were given a handsome Bible, a Prayer Book and a pound. We made lifelong friendships and still meet from time to time.

Aileen Cockshut, Margaret Rowell & Judith Oxley Climbing out of bounds, 1957

Judith Oxley, Lesley Simpson & Gillian Lewis Girl Guide camp, off to feed the horses