Friday, 1 August 2025

'Fifties recollections - Matthew Sennitt

It seems that this place is still getting noticed, thank goodness!

I've received some delightful information from Matthew Sennitt, and here are his notes in full! This era is rather sparsely mentioned elsewhere in the HHS story, so these recollections paint a fascinating picture of life at HHS, before many of us even arrived at the old place!


Hydneye House and some of the things I remember about it.

Matthew Sennitt 1951-1956

1. Staff:

Mr Maltby, the headmaster when I started at Hydneye, was a stern authoritarian who

never spared the stick, but was very fair. On one occasion there was much

discussion after lights out in the dormitory I was in. Mr Maltby heard the noise

and burst into the room, demanding to know who was breaking the nightly silence.

Everyone denied talking except me. He commended me for owning up, but when

the others wretchedly stuck to their guns decided I was the only culprit.

Nevertheless, as he had already praised me, he spared the rod.

Mrs Maltby was a kindly woman, but like her husband, not one to mess with.

Every Sunday the whole school were let into the Maltby’s drawing room so that

she could read us a chapter of a suitable classic book. In the days before television

that was a real treat.

Patrick Maltby was a generation younger than Mr and Mrs Maltby, I think a

nephew, and taught mathematics. He had a near perfect aim with a piece of chalk

or a blackboard rubber. Nevertheless, I remember him as a kind man who on one

occasion escorted my brother and I across London to catch a train to the Harwich

ferry and home to Germany. To pass the time between trains, he took us to see

the film 20,000 leagues under the sea. I think I was overwhelmed by the

marauding deep sea octopus.

Mr Tanner was the deputy headmaster and the uncle of the Bentley brothers

(John and Benjamin). He lived in one of the Lodges.

Mr Partridge lived in the village of Baldslow in a Bungalow still present at the

junction of the Ridge and Maplehurst Road. I remember him best for his attempt

to break the ice with a Siamese boy, Tamrong Tayanganon, by drawing a picture of

a gun firing and a rooster, ergo Bang cock.

Mrs Jackson taught Latin though I remember her chiefly for her kindness when

taking me up to London to visit Guy’s Hospital. This was a gruelling day as

surgeons were then treated as gods and we were kept waiting in cramped

conditions for hours. After my appointment we had to brave the rush-hour and

found ourselves being washed in the wrong direction by waves of people leaving

an incoming train.

Miss LM Stevens: Miss Stevens was an attractive blonde with fine features, which

earned her the epithet of Lovely Miss Stevens. She was at the school for a short

time only.

Mr Basset: I believe Mr Basset taught history, before becoming joint head master

in 1955. However, I chiefly remember him for his purchase of a Bedford

Dormobile. This gallant gesture meant that small parties of kids could be taken on

expeditions to various parts of Sussex. Sadly, my geography was and remains a

weak subject, so I can’t remember any of the destinations. I do, however,

remember the shock of getting into a vehicle that seemed to have no engine and a

huge window at the front. The Dormobile was indeed a motor ahead of its time.

Mr Basset had the nickname of Tubs, though was probably no more overweight

than the average man these days. His tenure as co-head was only a year or so.

Gerald Brodribb arrived in 1955 with an amazing amount of enthusiasm and soon

became headmaster. He immediately set about broadening the horizons of the

school’s ambitions. Cricket was his main interest and he liked to be recognised for

his authorship of quirky books on the game such as ‘Hit for Six’ and ‘Next Man In’.

He also enthused about butterflies and moths and kept a vivarium in his study

containing many different caterpillars. On one occasion I found a horrific monster

caterpillar in the vivarium and removed it in case it killed the rest. In the way that

small boys do I then forgot about it. The next day I was quizzed by Mr Brodribb,

who then explained that the monster was in fact the harmless caterpillar of the

Puss moth. In the last few years, I have resurrected this interest in moths and am

now an active member of the Sussex Moth Group with a ‘first for Britain’ to my

name.

He bought a small hand operated printing device and delighted in printing named

labels for adhering to books and other such objects. He started a school magazine

with descriptions of the endemic games that were played. Schoolyard cricket,

where two players would throw a tennis ball against a wall, aiming to hit the low

bevel. and award runs or wickets to imaginary teams depending on whether the

ball was caught without a bounce. French cricket where a batsman defends his

legs from a tennis ball only with the aid of a cricket stump. He delighted in a page

of ‘Likes’ and ‘Dislikes’ and revealed the meaning of the school-word

’proporshment’, the area between two beds that was ‘owned’ by one of the

occupants.

He introduced a shower room for after games hygiene, which was a great

improvement on the sinks of the old locker room. A fives court was under

construction when I left, but I never played there. He also introduced high-tea,

which was a simple meal with such things as beans on toast to increase our daily

food intake.

Dr Brodribb was the school doctor whose son was one of the pupils. He visited

once a week to check the boy’s health. On a couple of occasions, I was asked to

tea by his family. He had one of the original televisions, which showed a small

green and black picture. I was very impressed. He was central to getting me to

visit first the local hospital and then Guys in London.

Mr Morrish taught art and music. I remember him only from the classroom that

overlooked the playground, where the piano was located. Pop music wasn’t a

feature of the 1950’s, so we had to contend with Victorian songs. I don’t recall

being very enthusiastic. On one occasion he invited his son, a renowned vocalist

apparently, to sing to us. I wasn’t at all impressed with his overemphasis of vowels.

Commander Job was a World War two mini-submariner. He made a massive

impression on the classes he ran. On his arrival in class all the boys had to stand to

attention by their desks, salute and say ‘Good morning, Commander Job’ in

unison. He started a school drill squad that I don’t believe could have been

bettered by professionals. We gave one display at a parent’s weekend. At the

front was the band, a flute (Halford) a drum (Burke) and a triangle. I had the

honour of playing the triangle! When a Commander Job died some years ago

there was an obituary in the press describing his wartime exploits on mini-

submarines. He was a reported to be friend of Ian Fleming who was reputed to

have modelled his iconic spy hero on him. Could it be that we were all taught

history by the original James Bond?

Mr Tinson the gardener was a veteran and survivor of the first world war. He

boasted that as the machine guns hadn’t got him nothing ever would. He always

wore long leather boots and brown or khaki trousers and shirt, so looking the part

when he tended the school grounds and particularly the yellow roses on the wall

by the glasshouses.

The School Nurses. There were one or two women who took on the role of school

nurse during my stay at Hydneye. They held a small clinic every day and tended

the boys who were unwell, as well as dealing with the weekly school laundry.

After breakfast they would give out a spoonful of malt to those boys considered to

need the added vitamins and nutrients. In the evening there was hot Horlicks or

cocoa and biscuits. The biscuits were presumably bought in bulk and so tended to

be a bit musty. I remember one of the nurses being more than averagely pretty

and so she is responsible for one inerasable memory. One of her tasks was to

supervise the boys post-match shower, where we all stood in a line dressed only in

our towels waiting for our turn. On one occasion one small boy, by the name of

Walmsley I believe, stood behind her jubilantly displaying his full half inch of

appreciation.


2. The boys I remember: Edward Smart, Michael Escort, whose mother was the

Queen of Magic. I still have some playing cards that she had used, they never worked

for me though. Jonathon, Charles and Stephen Fry, 3 Harvey’s, 4 Fancys, 2 Crooks,

2 Hankeys, Forward, Tayanganon, Simon Martineau, Marcus, John and Benjamin

Bentley, Brodribb, Norton, Halford, Burke, Day, Registrar, Simon Wainright, Timson

Whose father ran a coach business, Philips who knew the whole of the local bus timetable,

Wontner, Ormerod, David Watson, Peter Southwell. Both of the latter were residents

in Germany during that time, as were Chris and I. Leslie and Fergus Falk both of whom

had measles at the same time I did.


3. Sets: To provide competition the boys at the school were placed in one of six groups

called sets. They were Rabbits, Hares Tigers, Lions, Leopards and Panthers. My brother

Chris was a Lion and I a Panther. Somehow, I still have an affinity with the black cat.


4. Sports: traditional sports were at the heart of the school with cricket being played in

the summer term, football in the winter and hockey in the spring term. There were

three pitches to cater for a number of games at the same time. The teams were all

served by one simple green painted pavilion with simple wooden benches round the

periphery of the inside. In summer a simple cricket scoreboard with hooks for the total

score and number of wickets, as well as the score of the first batting team was

operated.

After the game all participants returned to the locker room that was presumably a

garden room originally. It had a row of basins and a wall of lockers, one for each boy.

Once a week there was a competition for the tidiest locker. My brother won every

time except for one occasion when showing filial concern, he tidied mine. I won on

that occasion, as the most improved locker, and he was most upset. It never

happened again.

Cricket was a feature of the school as Mr Maltby was an enthusiast, while Mrs Maltby

was an exceptional wicketkeeper. I remember we had a number of outings to watch

Sussex play at the Hastings ground and as this was a complete day outing, I presume it

was on a Saturday. The most memorable match was always that against the parents.

Mrs Maltby used to keep wicket for the parents who were very varied in their ability.

I remember the father of the Crook brothers Mr Crook JP, who presumably still played

club cricket would make the bulk of the fathers runs. This always included a number of

sixes and concluded with a high catch.

Hockey was played in the spring term and there was the usual run of interschool

matches and set matches. However, one match was completely different from the

rest and that was the annual match against the South Saxons. The South Saxons was

and remains a prominent Sussex women’s hockey Club. I don’t know which South

Saxons team was chosen to play these 12- and 13-year-old but they inevitably won,

though not by a big margin.

Football, the muddy winter sport was played with the traditional heavy leather ball.

Painful to head and weighty to kick. At one point a coach appeared on Sundays to

teach the keener footballers’ additional skills. However, the heavy ball precluded

many of the tricks of modern school footballers.

Swimming was learnt at the White Rock Baths in Hastings; the whole school being

transported by coach. The pool was salt water. On returning to the school by hired

coach, every boy was given a square of dry white cake that for some reason tasted

delicious.

There was a swimming competition every year and each year the freestyle was won by

Registrar with Wainwright being second. The common denominator for these two was

that they both were living in hot climates and had easy access to swimming facilities at

home. Heated swimming pools were not the ubiquitous feature of Leisure Centres

that they are today.

School sporting colours. These were awarded only to members of the school team

who had shown excellence. The cricket colour was a white cap with the letters HHS, in

red, sewn into the front. The football and hockey colours were a white braid sown on

the red school cap, just above the brim.


5. Uniform The regular uniform during my stay was a navy-blue roll neck jersey with grey

short trousers. The standard cap was red with a white HHS sewn on the front. I believe

I still have one of each in a tin trunk somewhere.


6. Cubs: We were all divided into sixes. Meetings invariably started by the flagpole and

the flag was raised. We then took part in a range of activities, some competitive and

some not, but often leading to a badge. I can’t remember any of mine but I do

remember that each six was given a small axe and I tried to decorate mine with a blue

line around the handle with dubious results. We sometimes sat around a camp fire

and made angel cake (bread soaked in sweetened condensed milk), or twist (a basic

mix of flour and water rolled into a rope and twisted around a stick, then) cooked or

burnt over the camp fire). We also played wide games, where we were loosed into the

countryside nearby, for reasons that escape me. I do remember that on one occasion

we had to count the number of different butterflies we saw. I owned a little Observer’s

Book of Butterflies, and just copied out a number of the names from that. I was told

how well I had done, but clearly, I didn’t understand sarcasm then.


7. Evening entertainments: From time to time, we were shown films though all I can

remember is Felix the Cat. Occasionally an epidiascope was brought out and on one

occasion it showed pictures of the planets, cutting edge at the time perhaps. On

another occasion we had a talk about the work of the NSPCC. I wasn’t certain what the

objective was, a threat, or were we meant to help in some way?



8. The end: In 1970 I drove down from Surrey to Hastings for a day out and on the way

back recognised a road with which I was familiar. A short detour brought me to a

Lodge I was familiar with and then a drive past familiar Rhododendrons and two large

Cedar trees. But then, no Hydneye House. Horror. I looked down and discovered that

the ground under my feet was covered with small pieces of brick of a familiar red.

Shame on those who made the decision for its destruction, as it was a delightful

building.

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