Archive Attic

on 10 January 1930 during the visit of Dr Lofthouse, President of the Wesleyan Conference, to the School. Miss Clarice Williams, the Form I teacher, and housemistress from 1930 to 1934, recalled the occasion and the early days of boarding life:

‘We spent the previous week-end in polishing and cleaning, both inside and outside, and when the great day came we were all awake early, wondering if Nature would be kind enough to give us fair weather. The boys had to rise earlier to have an extra scrub and put on Sunday suits; back studs as usual were missing and hectic minutes were spent in trying to retrieve them from their wrong owners.

After lunch the invited guests made their way down to the Junior House. Meanwhile the boys formed a Guard of Honour and great was the disappointment when the distinguished visitors failed to pass through...the President offered a prayer, and W.H. Langdon then asked Mrs Ingram to declare the Junior House open, presenting her with a bouquet of tulips. Mrs Ingram in a short but happy speech graciously declared the house open …

The House was inspected, and great was the relief and joy of the Junior House

Boys when, on the departure of the last guest, they could at last get off those terrible collars. The effect of wearing their Sunday apparel on a week day had a disastrous effect, for, sad to relate, after tea the supporters of Vinter, Smith and School Houses decided to fight the one valiant Wickettite. The wouldbe heroes had to spend the rest of a memorable day in bed, while the nonfighters had a glorious time telling yarns and eating chips around the fire.

Life at the Junior House is very jolly. The boys get up at 7.20am every day and troop to the College for breakfast. At 4pm down they come again and until 5pm spend a great deal of their time in gardening – each boy has a patch of land and each believes that next term he will be able to supply the Junior House with lettuce, radishes and peas.

Tea is generally at 5pm and it is really amazing how long this meal lasts –several of us have tremendous eating capacities. After tea we play games, of which draughts is the most popular, and great is the joy of that terrible person who administers punishment, when she defeats the champion players. Prep is at 6 o’clock and supper at 7. Lights out at 8.30pm and then silence.

On Sunday afternoons, weather permitting, we take our weekly walk, and after tea we write letters, and read stories around the fireside. One person, at least, is thankful when lights are out, and she can sit and read without being crossexamined about the hundred and one things boys are keen on.

In spite of punishments, three baths weekly for each boy, and having to wash without wearing a vest, life here is very happy, and we are just like a great big family. I feel sure that those who visit us often envy us and wish they could enjoy the privileges given to us. We are trying to hand on to succeeding generations a glorious tradition and are hoping that the training given to the younger boys will make them proud of the School on the hill, and so that the School may be proud of them.’

By 1935 boarding was expanding and more space was needed, so when Treliske was bought for the youngest boarders, Pentreve was used for older boys, over the age of 11. At that time part of the garden at Pentreve was leased to Charles Langdon to build a bungalow on.

As well as the housemistress or housemaster, Pentreve was staffed with one or two servants. Ruby Terrell worked for six years as a housemaid at Pentreve before being appointed head dormitory maid in January 1937. In 1938 a pupil got caught carrying letters from another maid at Pentreve (probably aged about 15) to one of the other boys and received four strokes of the cane as punishment.

Pentreve, 1944

Up three stone steps and in the door, Probably varnished last in the war, Into the cloakroom to change your shoes A pair of wooly slippers choose.

You see oak bannisters gleaming bright But you can’t slide down in the middle of the night

For there are little prickly things Which stop you riding down on wings.

You plod upstairs to go to bed, And then the prayers by all are said It proves to be your night to bath, So towards the baths direct your path.

Soon you run into the steam

You make some soap turn into cream Then wash yourself from top to toe And after that out you must go.

You run away and get in bed, And then you hear the Prefects tread, He puts all lights out and cruel it seems, But then we go to happy dreams.