John Leslie's memoirs...

 John Leslie’s

MEMORIES OF HYDNEYE HOUSE

TEACHERS and others

Mr Maltby was the Headmaster when I (aged 6¾) arrived in 1953. He seemed a large man (perhaps because I was very small) with large ears. He beat me many times – I do not remember why – usually with the back of a hairbrush with a handle.

Mrs Maltby was a rather Victorian lady, but on Sunday evenings, she had us small boys sitting on the floor in front of the fire in her drawing room while she read us stories – this room later became the classroom overlooking the back lawn.

Mr Patrick was so called to avoid confusion with his father Mr Maltby the Headmaster. I do not remember what he taught us very junior boys, but he was a chain smoker who sucked Polo mints during lessons – and would give one to any of us who did well.

GB was somewhat irascible but could be very kind; when I went back as the junior master and was paid per term “all found”, he doubled my pay for the Summer Term, not saying it was a performance bonus (!) (which I certainly would not have deserved) but because it was a long term. He was very much a details man, as can be seen from his cricket books.

Mrs Brodribb was quite short and, I think, rather stern – she persisted in calling me “Leslie” even when I became the junior master. She had a Norfolk (or Norwich) terrier. I think it must have been ill treated by a small boy before it came to HH because it was a vicious little brute which growled alarmingly (or worse) when any of us boys went near. An ideal pet for a Prep School Headmaster’s wife! I remember her in the changing room with a School list, noting the names of the boys in the showers with sprouting pubic hairs who were ready for the embarrassed talk (about the birds and bees and “feelings”) by her brother-in-law, the school doctor.

Mr Basset was GB’s partner in their ownership of the school for a relatively short time after the Maltbys. He had a film projector which he used to show us silent films – Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Laurel and Hardy etc – on a Saturday evening. I seem to recall that the projector was hand cranked!

Mr Partridge was a retired Colonial officer (from Africa?) who taught the 6 th form Latin and Maths (I think). He was a really nice man with a twinkle in his eye, very neat handwriting, a nicotine stained moustache and a ginger Harris Tweed jacket.

Commander Job (RCN from WWII?) was a Scottish Canadian who taught for a year or two. He played his bagpipes on the lawn while we boys had our pre-breakfast run around the Sylvester track. He also had a squad of us doing elementary drill in front of the house - eventually without words of command. I found this useful when I became a cadet in the Dover College CCF.

Mr Dickinson was a young master who taught for a year (?) before doing his National Service – I think in the RAF during which I seem to remember we were told that he died in an accident.

Mr Evans taught French to the very small 6th Form. One of his methods was to have each of us read aloud in French a page from a Maigret novel, correcting our pronunciation as we went. Then he had us translate what we had read, helping us when we got stuck. I think he may have been reading the novel at the time and wanted to know who done it! But he was very kind and a good teacher. I think he also spoke Greek and Serbo-Croat which would possibly indicate an interesting war in the Balkans.

Sister Ellis has been rightly praised by many others with warm memories. Since HHS, every time I have made a bed, I remember her teaching us how to do “hospital corners”.

Miss Reynolds was the Matron. She wore a navy blue overall/dress and was warm and almost motherly. After hair washing I remember sitting on the floor in front of the gas fire in “Matey’s room” drying my hair with a chain of other boys tugging at the other ends of each others’ towels.

Miss Bell was the young assistant Matron in 1958/9. I remember her as a pretty young thing with a winsome smile who was much admired by us pubescent boys.

The Cantor from the Eastbourne synagogue came once a week in the winter of 1958/9 to prepare me for my Bar Mitzvah in April ‘59. My Father had arranged this with GB. Like all of his calling, he had a very fine voice (unlike mine which was not helped by it breaking) which, during “afternoon quiet time”, I am sure echoed throughout the school from one of the smaller classrooms.

Mr Winter was the general maintenance man who had many skills. He built the fives court and did the construction work on the swimming pool, after supervising us boys in digging the “hole” and placing the spoil to make the bank on the valley side. He had us as hod-carriers and cement mixers etc. and taught us the rudiments of brick and block laying. I remember him painting a panel of his car and explaining that the brush marks would disappear when the paint dried. I seem to remember that he was an accomplished chess player who had a hand in teaching us the rudiments of the game.

Mr Tinson when I first arrived at HH was the carpentry teacher. His workshop was in the corner of the Inner Yard. He seemed to me to be very old and he smoked a well chewed pipe; every time I smell oak sawdust I still fancy I can smell his tobacco.

Places etc.

The War Memorial Plaque I think this has been described as an “Honours Board”. The name of the Dambuster David Maltby (the son of Maltby the Headmaster) was among those on it. I am sure it was started as a Memorial to those Old Boys who had served and died in the World Wars. It was on the wall in the short corridor just inside the glass walled outside lobby and before the original library. There was a small table or shelf in front of it on which vases of flowers were often placed. I remember that on 11 th November, which was then still called “Armistice Day”, a poppy wreath was put there.

The Butler’s (?) Safe There was a large safe door in the passage/lobby outside the dining room leading towards the kitchens. It always intrigued me. Having watched “Downton Abbey” (!), I think it must have been the safe where the original family (the Hankeys?) kept their silverware and other valuables. I imagine that the butler had the only key, other than the Head of the Family.

The Fives Court, which I think was named “The Norton Fives Court” after the Father of the boy who donated the funds for the court. HHS must have been unique as a Prep school where fives could be learnt and played. I remember trying it without gloves to be “macho” (not a word used then I fancy!) – if you caught the ball on a knuckle or other wrong place, as I usually did, it was extremely painful.

The Rifle Range which was between the rose garden/beds and the wall on the other side of which was the Cypress Walk. We shot .22 rifles at card targets; the spent copper cartridge cases made shrill whistles when placed carefully between the first and middle fingers and blown.

The roots of the Cedar Trees in front of the house made imagined roadways and tracks for our Dinky and Matchbox cars and lorries.

Model Aeroplanes which many boys made from balsa wood kits; if not gliders or powered by rubber bands they sometimes had air cooled petrol engines. The real excitement came with the few which had “Jetex” engines. I do not know what “Health & Safety” would have to say about that these days.

The Changing Rooms... When I first arrived the changing room for games was in what must have been the conservatory of the original house; there were hooks for our clothes and lockers for our footwear. Fairly soon after GB took over, the cellars were cleared by us boys with Mr Winter supervising with much brick dust flying – I still blame my wheeze on this. Showers and hooks etc were installed and we were all given the number from our hook which was marked on our clothes – mine was 29.

Events etc.

The Coronation in June 1953 was projected live from a rather primitive television onto a big screen rigged up in the Big School room. The Maltbys invited some of the people from Baldslow to come and watch, which they did. I still have a book celebrating the Coronation, written by Richard Dimbleby, given to all schoolchildren in the Borough of Hastings by “The Right Worshipful The Mayor of Hastings, Alderman H W Rymill, Baron of the Cinque Ports”.

Northern Lights... I have a distinct memory of seeing the Aurora Borealis over the Weald (in the mid 1950’s?) from, I think, the window by the lavatory in the passage outside the two end dormitories – long before the GB regime when they were given names, which I can’t remember.

Swimming... Once a week, we used to go by bus, sometimes a very exciting double decker, to the sea water indoor White Rock Baths in Hastings/St Leonards. We were taught to swim and I remember being very proud when I managed to swim a width of the baths without a rubber ring/life jacket – which I remember was grey and very cold when first put on. Afterwards we were given a mug of Bovril.

Dancing... On one occasion there was “country dancing” – the Gay Gordons and the Sir Roger de Coverley are the names of the dances I remember; someone tried to teach us what to do. We were hosts to the girls from St Mary’s Convent opposite.

Walks... When the weather had made the playing fields unusable, we were taken for walks along The Ridge. This was the road between Baldslow and Ore and was the route to the Municipal (?) cemetery, east of HH. Almost always on the walks a funeral cortege would pass and we were taught to show respect for the dead: as it approached we should stop, face the road and remove our scarlet caps.

Desk Marble Runs... Someone has described these already but I remember trying to get the run, made of rulers, books and two pencils laid parallel and which started at the inkwell, to end at the hole in the floor of the desk (intended for removing accumulated detritus) so the marble would fall into your hand – I never managed it.

Fishing in the pond behind the wire fence of the Yard, which was out of bounds to all but prefects. We tried fishing with sticks, string and bent pins and, sometimes, proper hooks, catching roach(?) which were very slimy and smelly.

Smoking... My Father gave me one or two cigar boxes to use as pencil boxes. I remember drying dandelion petals in a box. Someone had their Father’s old pipe, which we filled with dried petals and tried to smoke. We also tried rolling some in a sheet of the hard “Bronco” loo paper and smoking that. I can remember neither where we got the matches from nor what effect, if any, that it had other than to give us an explosive, hacking cough!

Fathers’ Matches at the start of the Summer half-term holiday were always sunny. Tea was served on the lawn in front of the House and always included strawberries and cream. I remember Mr Fry – father of two boys older than I was and himself the son of the famous C B Fry – smiting a six over the trees by the Ridge and then spooning up a catch to his son.

The Sets were Rabbits, Hares and Tigers, Lions, Leopards and Panthers, to which we were assigned when we arrived; I was a Tiger. There was a ladder board to mark the placing of each set in the competition, a rung on that ladder being achieved when the members of the set had received 10 pluses. These were awarded by the teachers for good work, coming first in form subjects and other meritorious achievements. Minuses could also be awarded for bad work, conduct etc. My memory is that 5 minuses led to the set moving down a rung.

The Dining Room Clock was on the main shelf of the elaborate mantelpiece. It was under a glass dome and had three brass balls which continually turned one way and then the other. I was intrigued by this as a boy. I have since discovered that the reciprocal revolution of the brass balls meant that the clock only needed winding about once a year – hence it is called a “365 day clock” – I have since acquired one.

GB’s Printing Press was made by a company called Adana. He had it round a corner in the old conservatory. He had only one full set of font/type face – which I think was called “Baskerville”. As we can see from the issues on the Blog he used the press to print the first page of many of the issues of the School magazines.