St George's House,
Northern Police Orphanage. 1898-1956
Harrogate, Yorkshire, England.
Memories
What is privilege ?
A story about
the Drummond family, written by Des Drummond (564) 14 February, 2011
My Father,
Adam Robertson Drummond (ARD)
was born of Scottish parents
in Wark on Tweed, Northumberland, directly south of Coldstream, which is
near Berwick upon Tweed.
My mother, Agnes May Carr
was born in Barelees on 23rd May 1900.
Barelees is a farm next to Flodden Field, an ancient battleground.
Close to Wark and Coldstream.
My mother and father knew each other from childhood.
Royal Artillery badge
ARD
became a volunteer soldier at the age of eighteen, when he responded to
the call of the Recruitment Sergeant in 1914, at the very beginning of
the First World War. He became Private 63897 Drummond, and was attached
to the Royal Garrison Artillery.
After training, Gunner Drummond served from March 1915 until
December 1919; the entire period of the war, in Belgium and on the
Western Front in Northern France.
Whilst in Belgium, he was at Ypres, Passchendale, and other locations,
when in Northern France he was engaged in continuous offensives in the
Somme Valley.
He lived in trench conditions for all of that time, and only once in the
four and a half year period of his service did he manage to get back to
‘Blighty’.
After a very short break, he was sent back to the ‘Front’.
Howitzer 9.2 inch, used by the Royal Garrison Artillery during WW1
ARD
was lucky to survive the war, and probably did so because he was an
Artillery Gunner. It was usual for the big guns to be located just
behind the Front Line, although their actual positions were changed at
very at short notice, to avoid being pinpointed, and shelled in
retaliation.
Artillery Officers understood the techniques of heavy bombardment, and
set up the long range guns on secured ground. Two of the large guns,
each 9.2 inch diameter shells, were nicknamed Charlie Chaplin & Vesta
Tilley by the Gunners. They were the celebrities of the day; Charlie
Chaplin the film star and Vesta Tilley a well known music hall
entertainer.
These big guns could fire a shell up to 4 miles with great accuracy,
shelling the enemy with such force as to keep them underground in their
bunkers, allowing the British and French forces to advance to new
forward positions.
The Germans hit back at every chance, with German observation aircraft
spotting for their own artillery, investigating the British gun
positions and bringing retaliation fire. The answer was to move position
regularly to avoid this being successful, but there were still
casualties. ARD lost friends in these bombardments, when the
enemy returned fire.
On one occasion he was called to Field HQ to receive co-ordinates for
the next days assault, only to find on his return that shrapnel had
killed one of his pals in his squad.
ARD
was wounded very slightly during his service. A piece of shrapnel struck
him between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand, passing right
through the fleshy part of his hand but without breaking any bones. He
managed to keep the wound clean, and continued on, grateful that he
didn’t contract ‘Lockjaw’ as so many wounded soldiers did. Tetanus was
common in the trenches, and caused the death of numerous wounded
soldiers, even those with minor wounds.
The Armistice
was signed
in November 1918, but ARD wasn’t demobilized until March 1919.
After ARD and his brother William who had served as an
infantryman in the DLI on the Western Front were demobilized,
they each returned home to their parents who were living on a small farm
at Scremerston, a tiny village just south of Berwick upon Tweed.
By now their father; my grandfather; was quite elderly, being 65 years
of age, and he had virtually retired from his small business as a
rope-maker. The brothers had each hoped that they would rejoin their
family and work alongside each other, but it couldn’t be. The British
economy was in poor state, especially so farming, where most of the rope
and rope nets made was used, so hopes of a decent wage, enough to
support a wife and family wasn’t possible.
ARD
knew, that if he wanted to marry his childhood sweetheart he had to
have a job. He found temporary work with a small building concern in the
next village, Cornhill, not far from Norham.
My mother and father married in December 1919, and for a short time they
lived in Norham on Tweed, which was the home village of mothers’
family.
Desperately needing a
career, ARD decided to join the Police Force. The nearest big
City to his home was Newcastle upon Tyne, and they needed policemen.
He walked sixty miles to get to Newcastle, taking a couple of days to do
so. When he arrived, he went straight to the Newcastle upon Tyne Police
Station in Pilgrim Street, where he was examined by the resident Police
Surgeon.
He failed his entry medical examination, not because he was unwell in
any way; he just wasn’t tall enough!!
Newcastle upon Tyne Constabulary at that time would only engage recruits
who were 6’ 2.5” tall; as did the City of London Police.
Advised to walk the short distance over the High Level Bridge to
Gateshead on Tyne, just the other side of the river, where they too were
recruiting, he did so, and passed his medical without problem.
Borough of Gateshead Police
Photo: courtesy of
www.gatesheadboroughpolice.com
Enrolled into the Gateshead County Borough Police, as Police
Constable 79 in January 1920; he was in his early days, the shortest man
in the ‘Force‘, even though he was over 6’ 1” tall.
In his early days of police service, PC 79 Drummond had the fortune to be allocated a police house, conveniently next door to the police station at Blyth Terrace, Gateshead.
Blyth Terrace Police
Station, Gateshead.
Photo: courtesy of
www.gatesheadboroughpolice.com
When war was declared in September 1939, mother, father and some of the younger members of the family were on holiday in Norham, staying with our twin Aunts Eve and Ethel. I remember the sirens being sounded and the sense of impending doom. Later as the air raids became more regular over Tyneside, some of us stayed in Norham in a form of self inflicted evacuation, but we the kids loved it. At the far end of the village were the ruins of an old border fortress, Norham castle, we played there every day.
Many of my older brothers
and both sisters were born in Norham where mother had the benefit of her
twin sisters to help with the birth, and care of the other youngsters.
Norham was a regular weekend destination for the Drummond family, and
numerous uncles, aunts, and cousins were regular visitors to Gateshead,
by return.
As the family grew, so did the need for a larger house, and the move to
Low Fell (a residential area of Gateshead on the south side) in 1934,
saw the Drummonds move into their own home, at number 6, Loraine
Terrace, a large lovely old sandstone property which still stands
today.
During the early years of World War 2 Adam Robertson Drummond was now the head of a large family.
The eldest, a daughter,
Margaret Carr Drummond was born in Norham in 1920.
A son, Adam Robertson Drummond was born in 1922.
Next, Isobel Carr Drummond was born in 1924.
Richard Drummond was born in 1926.
James (Jim) Gregson Drummond was born in 1930.
Desmond Charles Drummond was born in 1935.
Douglas Hamilton Drummond was born in 1937.
Edmund (Eddy) Martin Drummond was born in 1939.
Albert Alexander Drummond was born in 1941.
The blitz was an everyday assault on Tyneside during the early war years, insistent nightly bombing of the riverside, the main targets for German bombers, trying to destroy the shipyards, bridges and factories, as well as the berthed Naval and Merchant shipping.
As young as I was at the time, I remember the raids, the bangs, and the searchlights, sometimes even the sight of the German bombers overhead, and how when the sirens sounded, being rushed into the air raid shelter which was part of the cellar of our house. On our way to school we would look out for bits of shrapnel. My brother Jim had quite a hoard of it.
During the spring of 1944,
a Diphtheria epidemic hit Gateshead, and the effect it had upon the
Drummond family was traumatic. Mother, and eldest son Adam (who was at
home on leave; from the Army.) Desmond, and baby Alby, were all infected
and taken to hospital. Adam and Alby were soon released, being judged
clear of the disease, but Mother and Desmond (the writer) were detained
in quarantine, severely infected. The Diphtheria strain was
particularly virulent.
Sadly Mother died after only a few days in hospital. It was May 1944.
Gateshead Borough Police
Constabulary badges
Photos: courtesy of www.gatesheadboroughpolice.com
Imagine the trauma that my Father ARD faced at the news of his wife’s death. A serving Policeman with a large family. The war on. Duties including regular nightshifts away from home. Four children under the age of ten, and one child just three years of age.
My two eldest sisters were both working away from home. Margaret engaged in the war effort making the fabric that was used to make parachutes for the Army. Isobel was a Nurse in an isolation hospital. Adam was in the Royal Marines, serving in North Africa. Richard was in The Royal Army Service Core, serving in France. Jim was only fourteen, but in those days could choose to leave school if he wished to.
Brother Jim went to live with my father’s brother James, and his wife, who had a small building concern in Workington, Cumbria, and served his apprenticeship indentured to his Uncle Jim along with his cousin, also called Jim. Three Jim’s in one household!!! All of them called after my Grandfather.
My father’s youngest
sister, my Aunt Maggie, lived with her husband, my Uncle George, on the
western edge of Newcastle upon Tyne. They had no children.
It was agreed that Des, Doug, Eddy & Alby would spend the summer months
of 1944 with them.
Unbeknown to me and my younger brothers, the Gateshead Police Chief Constable, Edward Bainbridge was already planning the next move, which would completely alter the rest of our lives.
Chief Constable Edward Bainbridge 1937 - 1958
Photo: courtesy of
www.gatesheadboroughpolice.com
He took my Father and my
Great Aunt Aggie, (Paternal Grandmother’s sister, and head of the
family) to Harrogate, to view St Georges House. He recommended
that their considerations should favour the invitation that was given to
them; that we, “the four boys Des, Doug, Eddy & Albie”, should move to, and live at St. Georges.
Great Aunt Aggie agreed, and persuaded my father that it was for the
best.
We arrived for the new term starting in September 1944. We soon settled
in to this new way of life, and quickly made friends with the other
boys. Everyone had a common bond because most of us had lost at least
one parent.
Des Drummond
564 Doug Drummond 565 Eddy Drummond 566 Albie Drummond 567
Miss Knocker was the Head, and did all she could to ensure that we were well cared for. Looking back as a parent myself, I now appreciate more than ever the wonderful job she did as the Principal of a well oiled organization with her concerns not only for the children in her care, but also for all the Old Boys & Girls too, and how they were fairing. She was a wonderful example of selflessness, having dedicated her whole life to the benefit of the children in her care.
For a time my Aunt Maggie got a job at St. Georges with the intention of ensuring that we ‘the boys’ were being well cared for. She wasn’t allowed to work in the Boys wing, as that might have been described as preferential treatment, so she worked in the Girls wing, but managed to keep an almost daily contact with us, often waiting for us to pass her in the corridor, when she would slip us a few sweets. She had no cause for concern, St. Georges Boys & Girls were well cared for. After a couple of months she was able to go home to Newcastle assured that all was well.
Visiting day was the first Saturday in the month, and at morning assembly we would be told who the visitors would be. My Fathers name was almost always called out. He seldom missed a date, and when he did, he would send some other member of the family in his place. Visiting day would be spent in Harrogate, perhaps with a walk around the Valley Gardens or a trip to the cinema, but it always finished in Standings, a restaurant at the top of a long flight of stairs in a shop in James Street; where we could have things we didn’t get at St. Georges, like pop, and chips.
A lot of people have asked
me the same question…”what did you do at St. Georges, what was it
like ?”
Well… apart from going out to school, where we met and mixed with
other kids, back at St. Georges, we had a football pitch, a cricket
pitch, a tennis court, a gymnasium, and the use of two public swimming
pools nearby. We had our own Cubs & Scouts troops, whilst the girls had
Brownies and Girl Guides.
Sport was always encouraged, and games were arranged with local schools
and clubs of which there were many. In the common room we had billiards,
snooker, and table tennis, although these latter attractions were
brought in with the advent of Miss Duke-Turner, who greatly relaxed the
discipline that previous generations probably experienced.
We were smart in our uniforms, all kept neat and tidy by our House
Masters/Mistresses, we always had to wear the right attire for the
occasion, whether it was Sunday best for church, or ‘whites’ for
cricket. Some of us sang in the church choir, others chose to take piano
lessons.
Entertainment varied from occasional summer trips to the seaside
arranged by a County Police Force, or to the theatre, cinema, and even
on one occasion that I recall, to the Opera.
Food was good and plentiful, perhaps a little plain, but rationing was
still the order of the day. Much was grown in our own gardens tendered
by the two gardeners whose job it was to grow vegetables, but also to
keep the flower beds nice. I particularly remember Nellie’s (the cook)
pasties, usually served on Tuesdays for lunch, not forgetting the apple
jacks and custard at Sunday lunchtime, and rock buns or a piece of fruit
cake for Sunday tea. Sweets which were always called ‘Spice’ were served
at teatime on Sundays and Thursdays. They became currency. You could
always sweeten a swap with the addition of an odd spice or two.
Were we deprived kids (?) …never. We were taught to be independent, to be a good sport, that honesty was the best policy; that good manners counted, always encouraged to do well at school, and to respect others.
Looking back…there was a degree of elitism, a pride in being from St. Georges.
With the retirement of Miss Knocker, and the appointment of Miss Duke-Turner, there was a relaxation in the strictness of the way of life at St. Georges, but in the main, things went along as normal. As far as the boys were concerned, we were a fairly happy bunch with strong friendships between us, and plenty to keep us occupied. Christmas was the ‘most looked forward to’ event of the year, and I think that most of us given the chance to go home for that holiday, or to stay at the school, would have chosen the latter. We all had a great time with lots of treats.
Did it do us any harm? … Of course not, quite the contrary. It bred independence in all of us, proved by the lives that the ‘Old Boys & Girls’ built for themselves after leaving. Studying careers we can see Doctors, Solicitors, Clergymen,Schoolteachers, Journalists, Police Officers, Civil Servants, Military Servicemen; some of esteemed rank; Engineers, Nurses, Managers, Hotel Proprietors, Business Owners, Trade Union Executives, and best of all Good Parents.
The Drummond brothers all
left St. Georges at the same time, in July 1951. Our father had
remarried, and retired from the police force at much the same time, so a
normal home life was available to us after many long years of being
away. Going home for good was a welcome but strange thing. We all missed
our pals. It took some time to settle into a new way of life.
My father had a long and happy
retirement which he spent on his smallholding, which we always called
‘the farm‘. We didn’t live
there, we lived in the family house my parents had bought in 1934. The
farm was about a mile from our house, on the edge of town, but
sufficiently into the country to keep chickens, a couple of cows, lots
of pigs, and a cat or two. There were always dogs around.
I worked with my father on the farm, during which time I passed my
driving test, often driving Dad around the various markets on a weekly
basis, buying and selling whatever, enjoying every minute of it.
Often, one or two of his old Police pals would call at the farm to see
him, have a chat and a smoke, and go off with a dozen eggs.
Around my eighteenth birthday I received my call up papers from the MOD. Shortly after the medical and the interview which followed, I was conscripted into the RAF where I served my two year stint as a Snowdrop… A Royal Air Force Military Policeman. .. I enjoyed my time in the RAF, it was similar to the way of life I had left behind at St. Georges; lots of friends and a well ordered life.
During my spell in the RAF, I met my future wife Eileen, and we married in March 1957. We have two children; Andrew, born in 1959, and Sarah, born in 1966. Andrew married Belinda in 1985, and they have two children. Katy the eldest, born in 1992, is at present at University in Warsaw, Poland, where she is studying to become a veterinary surgeon. Amy, born in 1995, is presently preparing for her school exams. My daughter Sarah is unmarried, but has a long standing boyfriend, Mike. They each work for the BBC.
After some years working within Private Enterprise, I eventually started my own business, manufacturing a range of products for the Packaging and DIY markets, with an emphasis on Plastic and Chemical products. My son Andy now runs the business, and Eileen and I are retired, living a quiet life together in Mildenhall, a small County Town situated between Newmarket and Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk.
My brother Doug, very
successfully ran his own automotive engineering business in Newcastle
upon Tyne for many years, before retiring to Spain, where he lived until
his untimely death in 2004. We all miss him.
My brother Eddy’s career was within the Trade Union movement, where he
achieved much on behalf of his members. Located in Derby, he also worked
at National level. His opinions were often sought by Government.
My brother Alby also ran his own business, specializing in Industrial
Cleaning. After his retirement, his son Carl took the reins.
And so back to my time at
St. Georges.
I would like to express my thanks to everyone who was involved in the
care of my brothers and me, particularly to Miss Knocker. I never gave it
a thought at the time, but now that I’m a little bit older, and perhaps
just a little bit wiser, realise she was a truly amazing person.
But the bottom line is that none of the good things that all of the St.
George's boys & girls enjoyed, would have happened, without the help,
generosity and support of the contributing Police Constabularies.
To all of them I say a big Thank-you. Summing it all up in the fewest words possible, let me say…for me, and I know I speak for many more, St. Georges turned Tragedy into Privilege.
Des Drummond.
564
14th February 2011
A tribute to George Squires, Leeds, child admission number 210
When St George's old boy George Squires died, his good
friend Harry Lunn wrote an obituary for him which was published in the
Harrogate Advertiser.
Harry Lunn, like George Squires, was a member of the local Home Guard
and was also Secretary of Harrogate Hotspurs Football Club.
This is what he had to say:
Mr
George Squires - A Tribute
Sir, may I, through the auspices of your paper, be allowed to pay a
small tribute to the late George Squires ?
When one reads about the "backroom boys" of local organisations, this
generally conjures up the names of the various chairmen or secretaries,
but very rarely does one think of the other backroom boys, those who do
the rough work for the clubs and for youth which they serve. George
Squires was that kind of backroom boy who tackled the rough work with the
same enthusiasm as those of us who acted as secretaries and so forth. It
is with thoughts of that kind of work that George did for so many years,
especially with the Northern
Police Orphanage, Harrogate Boys'
Club and Harrogate Hotspurs, that George will be most remembered.
During my years as secretary for the Harrogate Hotspurs A.F.C. George was my right hand man and many's the time that I have been indebted to him for the rough jobs he did for the club.
George was probably a law unto himself, straightforward, decisive and independent. He did what he set out to do without fuss and bother, and with no thought whatever of praise or thanks, and whatever job he set out to do, whether it was erecting the posts, blowing up the footballs, marking out the ground, or any other menial task, in whatever kind of weather the job was done, and done well.
When, during the last war, hostilities threatened to put an end to local football, George Squires for a long period was the one man who kept the Hotspurs going, and to a big extent his work at this time must have had a big bearing on the existence of the present Harrogate Town Football Club.
I pay this small tribute, not only for myself, but, I am sure, for the many friends he had made throughout the years, and I know that they will all express with me their heartfelt sympathy to those whom George has left behind.
Yours,
H. LUNN
34
Dragon View,
Harrogate.
George Squires (210)
My Recollections: written by Les Ball, child admission number 637
Life at St George’s
Following my Police Sergeant father’s death in December 1951, life at
home in Sheffield was financially tough for my mother. It was with great
reluctance and sadness that the decision was made for me and my brother
Raymond to go to St George’s House Police Orphanage, Harrogate. We moved
there in September 1952. I was given the number 637 and Raymond 638.
The Orphanage at the time was under the governance of the third Lady
Superintendent, Miss Elisabeth Duke Turner.
I
thought it was a regime dominated by “early to bed”, “early to rise”
discipline, with scrubbing of floors before breakfast and school, overly
admixed with heavy doses of religion, the order of the day. However the
religion was all “empty” as I never witnessed much active Christian
application from the staff. While Biblical stories and parables were
thrust at us all, none of us ever had an opportunity to challenge any of
its interpretations. No wonder I’ve been agnostic since the mid 1950s.
I looked forward to mail from home, playing football / cricket on Saturdays and crab-football in the gym, and to the monthly visits by family and friends. Being from Sheffield I was particularly interested in watching a Sheffield engineering firm, Henry Boot & Sons, build the covered reservoir opposite.
Naturally, friendships were made at St George’s and these often sparked new interests & hobbies which last to this day. For example, my interest in playing snooker and spotting aircraft types originated at St George’s.
Food was reasonable, though I admit to having an instant dislike to “Marmite” such that I’ve never touched it since 1954. We all tolerated doses of Cascara pills once a week, but much preferred our own food, which usually included Farrah’s Harrogate Toffee, that we smuggled into our dormitories for the last night of term.
None of the staff ever asked about how new residents were settling. There was really nobody with whom I could discuss my circumstances or my questions about life in general. Friendships were made but amazingly that did not always prevent “friends”from marking ones freshly scrubbed corridor with black shoe polish or rubber. Nor did it prevent them from ridiculing anyone who had any slightly deviant physical feature. I should know, I was ridiculed every time we went for a walk simply because my legs were not growing straight ( a problem that was totally resolved by surgery in 1961 when I was 21). This situation greatly affected my confidence during my teenage years and it’s regretfully one of the main reasons I hated St George’s. It is the only time in my life that I have kept a calendar simply to cross off the days to the next holiday. That really tells its own story.
Harrogate Grammar School
I attended 2nd year stream at Harrogate Grammar School (HGS) while Ray attended the junior school in Cold Bath Road.
Once I had settled in and began to know a few of my new classmates, I enjoyed HGS. Compared to life at St George’s, which was often confrontational, I found HGS to be a welcoming well-structured school, with good teachers. Moreover I found it refreshing to have pupils and teachers of both genders, and to witness the tremendous mutual respect across the teacher pupil boundary. I cannot recall any pupil disciplinary problems nor teacher tantrums. There was a vast curriculum of science, literature, history, geography, music, and wood/metal work. It was enjoyable – I now wished I had done more justice to the opportunity.
It was somewhat unfortunate that the time restrictions placed on us at St George’s made it difficult to socialise with fellow HGS pupils to any extent, ie apart from occasional Saturday soccer matches. Of course none of my classmates could believe that I had to scrub floors etc before arriving at school. It was probably very appropriate that our study book for English Literature was Dickens’ “David Copperfield”.
Sundays were dreadful. It seemed to be all church and bible, intersected by an afternoon walk. When I eventually heard the news that the Otley Road St George’s was to close down in July 1954, I could hardly believe my luck.
Leaving St George’s
We both finally left St George’s in July 1954, just prior to it being relocated (1955) to smaller premises, Albany Lodge, Hereford Rd, Harrogate. I returned happily to my former Grammar School in Sheffield (High Storrs), obtained GCE “O” levels in 1956, “A” levels in 1958, then worked in Sheffield for 3 years before entering Leeds University (LU) in 1961 to study Chemistry. I left LU in 1965, married Mary in the August and almost straightaway we emigrated to Canada. After a year in Toronto, where I worked in the paints research industry, we moved west to Edmonton for me to study for a PhD in Chemistry at the University of Alberta. Our son Stephen was born in Edmonton in 1967. In February 1971 we returned to the UK, where I took up university posts in Sussex (Brighton) then Sheffield, before beginning Research work with a company based on the Wirral peninsular, in September 1974.
Throughout all of this time I had never forgotton about St George’s where I had made good friends, neither did I forget my two years at Harrogate Grammar School, which I enjoyed.
As mentioned previously, I hated my time at St George’s and couldn’t wait for each term to pass so that I could return home for a brief holiday of real life with original friends who accepted me for what I was. Initially, I simply could not begin to accept how / why, over a period of nine months, I had moved from a normal happy home life to one where I was expected to carry out menial duties at 7.30 most mornings.
Return visit to Harrogate Grammar School
Years went by, our son Stephen finished university in 1989 and found employment as a Civil Engineer – based close to Harrogate. Naturally our visits to Stephen and his wife reopened my “Harrogate history” and I used to purposely walk past St George’s (or at least where it had been) en route back from fetching my Sunday papers and thinking “If only I could have known in 1952/54 how marvellous my life would turn out”.
It was on such a visit in June 2001 that I arranged for a noon visit to Harrogate Grammar School – but more of that in a minute. On my drive into Harrogate that morning I noticed “Police Station” so I called in and asked the Desk Officer “What ever happened to St George’s and all the residents’ documentation”. He replied “You need to talk to the Superintendent at St Andrew’s Police Convalescent Home” . So, being early for my HGS visit, I called in to St Andrew’s. I was flabbergasted when within 2 minutes I was given access to documentation about my 1952 arrival at St George’s etc. I was asked if I attended any reunions, to which I replied “never knew they existed”. It was recommended that I get in touch with Sheila Stephenson (the St George’s old girl who organised the reunions), and within days I received a telephone call from St George’s old boy Arthur Boschi (in Stockport). The rest is history and I was able to catch up with a few friends of the past at subsequent (emotional) reunions.
Now back to my 2001 meeting with the Headmaster’s Secretary at Harrogate Grammar School. I had an interesting trip right round the school and given access to various “Speech Day” and “Annual” booklets of the 1952/54 period. Accordingly I am in possession of a full list of teachers of that period and I must say that I remembered all of the ones that had taught me. I was even provided with school group photographs of all the teachers, some of which might be suitable for inclusion in the website, on the Education/Religion page.
Although I still regard my two years at St George’s as being the worst of my life, I realise that the experience helped me become a wider more understanding person. I feel St George’s made me recognise the problems of others more intensely, value friendships, and made me appreciate the good times more deeply. I suspect the early death of my father, coupled with St George’s, forced me to stand on my own feet at an early age. I believe it taught me to have more faith in my own ability and to really work for something if you wanted it. I’m grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to attend university despite only being rather average at school. While I accepted that I was not naturally academically gifted, there was no way I was going to be denied if hard work could get me there. So it turned out, and I suspect St George’s seeded my driving enthusiasm.
Recollections.
Written in 2008 by Les Ball (637)
A Tribute to Richard Howden Peacock, DFC. (402)
Richard Howden
Peacock.
(402)
Born 6.4.1923
Middlesbrough.
Eldest of two sons, Richard and Max Peacock.
Both boys entered St. George’s, Harrogate, in February 1930. Their father H Peacock was a Police Constable with the Middlesbrough Police Force. I believe, from my memory of my chats with Richard, that his father, who was a mounted policeman at the time of great unrest in the north east, caused by the ship building yard workers being sacked in droves, was assaulted whilst on duty, injured, and later died from his injury. Richard was at St. George’s for 10 years. I know nothing of his brother, Max’s life. Richard attended Harrogate Grammar School. From St. George’s he went to work in Middlesbrough Town Hall for two years until he was old enough to join the RAF, and was posted to Canada, where he earned his wings. He returned to the UK, serving in Bomber Command for the duration of WW ll, during which time he was awarded the DFC. At the end of the war he served as a Bomb Disposal Officer in Indonesia for eighteen months. In 1947 he returned to Middlesbrough, where he again took up a post at the Town Hall. Having missed the opportunity of University because of the war, he instigated his own four year part time programme of professional development, culminating in a successful entry into the Chartered Institute of Secretaries, which allowed him to take up the position of Chief Executive of Stokesley. Altogether, Richard served fifty years in Local Government.
He met his wife, Pearl, in 1949, when they were both serving in the Auxiliary Air Force at Thornaby, and they were married at St. Barnabas Church, Linthorpe in 1950. They were married for fifty four years and had two children, Susan and Simon. Simon is married to Sian , with two daughters, Mara and Lucy.
Richard was ill for the last three years of his life, with a Parkinson type illness, but even that didn’t dampen his zest for life and his love for his family and friends. He enjoyed his work, hill walking, amateur dramatics and the friendships he had made, especially during his time as a St. George’s boy and later as a St. George’s Old Boy and was a staunch and loyal supporter of St. George’s Old Boys’ and Girls’ Reunions. He died in Stokesley, 30.1.2005, aged 81 and Pearl died 12.12..2007, aged 83. He is greatly missed, as is his wife, Pearl.
Tribute written by Elsie Gale nee Bradley. (541)
Following the awarding of the
D.F.C. to Richard Peacock the following letter, dated 30/9/1945,
was written to him, by Miss E. Knocker.
Text
from Miss Knocker’s letter (reproduced above) to Richard Peacock.
St George's House
Harrogate
30th Sept, 1945
My dear Richard,
First of all I want to tell you how proud I am of you, in fact we all
are, that you have gained the DFC. Olive Thornton (Whitfield) sent me
the cutting from the Middlesbrough paper, and Max wrote also. Now I want
to know what you have gained it for, what brave thing you have done. I
do feel so glad, Richard and so proud - now go on, here is a proof you
can do things when the effort is demanded of you. I always tell
you I expect great things from you. I do.
I was so glad to have your letter. It arrived about a day before I
heard of your decoration. I was most interested in your journey. What a
lot of the world you have seen already. And to have seen Jerusalem is a
wonderful thing, I think. I would love to see the Holy Land.
You will probably be in Mysore when this reaches you, but I have sent it
to the address on your letter. The RAF are very good in forwarding
letters, I find. Cyril Madew is in Ceylon. Here is his address in case
you can meet, as you are both flying men-
1167145 W/O Madew C
Section X1. RAF Ceylon Air Forces.
You all talk of the
lovely blue of the Mediterranean, and of swimming in it, it must be very
different from our grey green seas. I have heard that Tel Aviv is a
wonderful modern, very up to date Jewish city. Is that so?
The boys have begun football but have not played any matches yet. They
were playing a scouting game all over Birk Crag yesterday morning.
I wonder where you are going to be stationed. Are you flying?
I have not seen any old boys lately, except Lawrence Madew, when I was
at home.
Let me know when you can, how you got your DFC.
With best wishes,
Yours affectionately,
E M Knocker.
How Arthur (Archie) Deakin got his
nickname. Child admission number 597
During my National Service in the
RAF we attended a lecture given by the Padre. I was unfortunate to be
the only one to know
the exact words to 'The Lords Prayer' (relic of St George's).
Because of that I was promptly
given the nickname 'Arch Deacon' and the first part stuck !!
Memories of St George's 1929-1939 Written by Gwen George nee Mitchell (394)
In September 1929 my mother took me to St. George’s. The next few weeks were emotionally traumatic. Eventually I settled and began to appreciate the companionship of other girls. The busy school life together with evening and weekend activities helped to assuage my homesickness.
Then came Christmas. Suddenly, a change took place, there was laughter and even happiness. The Hall Dining Room, corridors and Playrooms were ablaze with lovely colourful decorations. The Christmas trees were heavy with tinsel and miniature toys. A large notice was in the Hall, in the form of a calendar of forthcoming events.
Christmas morning
began with “Find your Stocking”, then breakfast, then Church and then
Christmas Dinner. Delicious turkey and all the trimmings, rich fruit
pudding in which threepenny pieces had been hidden. I still have my
coins.
Entertainments during the holiday included a film of “Rin Tin Tin”, a
concert by the Bradford Police and a concert by the girls and boys for
the girls and boys. In 1929 we all enjoyed a visit to Leeds Theatre to
see “Cinderella”.
Towards the end of the holiday we had The Party. We all assembled in the
Gym in the afternoon. The huge Christmas Tree was decorated with
presents which were handed out to us by Dr. Yeoman dressed as Father
Christmas. Each child received a main gift and a smaller one. In 1939 I
received a tennis racket which lasted many years. All too soon the
holiday was over and we quickly fell into our rigid routine once more.
Our lives continued to be busy with school, Guides or Scouts, hockey or football, tennis or cricket and gym. We were taught to sing well and won many music competitions. In the Starbeck Baths we learned to swim. Some of the girls became strong swimmers but I wasn’t one of them.
The next break in
our routine was the Easter Holiday. Church on Good Friday and as always,
Church morning and evening on Sunday. Religion played an important part
in our lives. Come Easter Monday though, we all enjoyed our chocolate
eggs.
Some weeks later we were at Camp for Whit Week. We all loved the freedom
from routine and each day we cooked our own sausages over the camp fire.
It was a joy not to be woken up at 6.30am by the bell.
During each year we had visits to such places as Brimham Rocks, Bolton Abbey and best of all, Scarborough. We were given two shillings to spend. Great fun was had, especially at Peasholme Park.
For the celebration of King George V’s 25 years on the throne, in 1935, we were taken to Manchester. It was a wonderful day. After a five course meal we were given the freedom of Belle Vue, a combined Amusement Park and Zoo. All the fun of the fair was there, the Big Dipper, roundabouts, swings and coconut shies. For me the best of all was a ride on the top of an elephant.
A few weeks later came the much longed for ”Going Home Day”. Great excitement and six wonderful weeks of holiday. How quickly the days slipped by. The last few days were heavy hearted as we knew it would be forty six weeks before we saw home again. As the years went by we were able to cope with the new St. George’s year more easily.
Looking back after so many years, I still feel sad at the total lack of love from the Staff. People who were put in charge of children had no idea of how to treat a child. There were two notable exceptions, one (Miss Carne) looked after the little girls and left in the mid 1930s to be married. The other (Mr Styan) looked after the boys and took them for games and gymnastics. He too, left in the mid 1930s.
On the other side
of the coin we had plenty of food, plain but wholesome. Our clothes and
shoes were of good quality. We were held up to high standards in all we
did. Many lessons were learned from communal living which helped us in
later life.
We had the opportunity to gain a place at the Grammar School, the
Commercial School or the Art School. I have been able to benefit from my
education.
Most important of all I made friends, good friends. The Reunions in Harrogate show very clearly the tight bonds that bind us all together in friendship and love,
St George’s and all it represents is UNIQUE.
Written by Gwen George (394) nee Mitchell, 2009.
Remembering St George's
Old Boys/Girls and friends.
479
604 442
272
338
P.Gilbert A.Burgess C.Uffindell P. Peacock
J. Shepherd E. Suggett
A. Cantwell
formerly Fox
nee Owen nee Bridge
nee Wheatley
269
270
573
392
597
565
B.Oley
I. Howe J. Redpath
G. Kirk
A. Geraghty A. Deakin
D. Drummond
nee Owen
nee Owen
nee Thorpe
445
434
478
542
R. Ruddick
O. Brett F.
Gilbert N.Green
nee Hewitson
nee Bradley
Deus vult
Email contact: stgeorgesharrogate@gmail.com