My Early School Years In Mill Hill 1943 1950

A Memory of Mill Hill.

I have few memories of my primary school which was in a private house in Croft Close a turning off of Marsh Lane, but I do remember being very happy there. This was during the latter war years. However I had a very bad experience at the first private junior school I attended. This was St Georges in Flower Lane, Mill Hill Broadway in 1945 and my father was still in the army. The head mistress, a Mrs Smith, did not believe that anyone could be left-handed. I am naturally left handed and was literally forced to write with my right hand, and button the shoes I had to change into on arrival a the school every morning, again just using this hand. I told my mum what was happening but she did not take it seriously until at the beginning of about the fourth week I broke down with the frustration of it all. I had blood coming from my finger nails of my right hand trying to button some new shoes, and was crying. I then deliberately started to use my left hand in class for everything. This was immediately reported to the head mistress who, as punishment, had me hold out both my hands to be smacked using a ruler. I was in tears again by this time and then refused to eat my lunch. They telephoned Mum and she came down to the school. I had the chance to talk to her alone on her arrival and she at last understood the situation, the stress I was under, and what the Head Mistress had done to me. Mum lost it at that point and stormed into the Heads office and really went for her. It took three male teachers to drag mum off of her. That was the last day I ever spent at that School. However the next school I went to was another private junior school and at the age of 9 was learning, Latin, French, Geometry, Algebra, and had to attend boxing lessons on a Saturday morning. Not the most appropriate preparation for the 11 plus. This was Highwood School in Lawrence Street.

Reaching Highwood School meant a walk down Worcester Crescent, up Glenwood Road, left at the top into Marsh Lane and then up the hill to a point where a footpath started off to the right which went past the back of some huge mansions. This then lead down through some allotments to a gate at the bottom which opened on to Lawrence Street almost opposite the school entrance. I usually did most of this walk with two other boys, Tony Grindrod (a big second year) and Billy Rushworth, a classmate of mine. Now, the top part of the footpath went past the rear gardens of the mansions on Marsh Lane, one of which was formerly owned by the film star Margaret Lockwood and this garden had the most lovely apple orchard. They were Worcester pearmains and absolutely delicious. Tony was not going to miss an opportunity to make a little extra money. So we crawled under the fence, through the hedge and into the orchard. The object of the exercise (scrumping) was to collect as many of the fallen undamaged ripe apples as we could carry in our school satchels and to sell them to as many of our schoolmates as possible. However, we had not ‘cased the joint’, and we had not reckoned on the gardener patrolling the grounds with his large Alsatian dog and his assistant. We were promptly caught and rounded up, then marched down to the school and almost straight into the headmasters office. The headmaster took a pretty dim view of our escapade but reserved his punishment of six of the best on a bare bum with a nasty looking cane for just Tony, deemed to be the organiser and leader. Billy and I were told to watch and it was made quite clear to us both that this would be the punishment if we repeated the crime. Billy and I got a hundred lines each and I did these at home. I was a bit worried about Dads response but all he said was serves you right for not checking the place out. Evidently when young Dad had done exactly the same thing, got caught and subsequently caned for his troubles.

It was at this school I first showed some talent at cricket as a bowler. There was a cricket net in the garden of the school and I bowled our form teacher, a Mr Stone, three times in the space of a few minutes. This was only a 20 yard pitch and at the age of 9. I was still at this school when I had to take the 11 plus exam. I failed having taken the exam with a temperature of 102. Two days later this was diagnosed as yellow jaundice and I spent a long time in bed. Having failed I got sent to Edgware Secondary Modern School in September of 1950, then situated down an alley way next door to the old LNER steam railway station and goods yard.

Ron Sargeant
Aged 83, Southend-on-Sea.


Added 27 November 2021

#758576

Comments & Feedback

By some amazing twist of computer fate, I found myself staring at Mrs Smith's name! Yes, indeed ...... She was the Dutch wife of Leslie Austin Smith, the headmaster. She was a sadistic screw-up for every little boy who experienced her highly unpleasant treatment of the children left in her care by their paying parents. She played all the kids off against one another, made fun also of the parents of whomever happened to be that day's target and encouraged all the lickspittle-trainees to make fun of that day's poor little kid. Your mum will have been quite an exception to have got wind of it!! That's enough ...... All the best, Malcolm (78)
I have no memory of Leslie Austin Smith at all. JUST THE NASTY PIECE OF WORK THAT WAS HIS WIFE !!!! I am now 84 and living in Southend. What was your connection to the school Malcolm?? Were you actually a pupil there??
I have no recollection of when it actually closed down.
I can remember the place where we had to change our shoes on arrival. It was at the very front and may have been a converted garage. I think we went from there to the classrooms and I was usually nearly the last to arrive at my desk having struggled one handed to button my shoes.
I started at st George's in 1951,and I was met by head Austin Smith and his wife a Dutch headmistress. At first I was put in the first class of 5 in the school. The lady who was my teacher was a kind lady called Mrs Phillip's so for that term I only heard of Mrs Smith who would shout in her Germanic "Get you MILUCKS. SO THE FAITFULL DAY ARRIVED AND I ENTERED MR AND MRS SMITHS CLASS. FIRST WAS MATHS AND I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT AN INUS WAS my parent also didn't understand either . It was of course plus and minus. To this day I am hopeless at maths
The following day I wet my pants in the toilets .from then on my life was hell being asked in in front of the class"what colour blue braces were" I was too frightened to reply in case I got it wrong. They also stopped me writing left handed,so my handwriting slopp''s both ways. My dad is left handed and taught me to bat left handed. Oh know this is wrong said Mrs Smith. I spent a further five years under the regime, failing my 11 plus. By now I was a frightened boy of 11 whose schooling was wrecked by Mr and Mrs Austin Smith. However I am now 77 and well travelled and happily married. Who won acclaim as an amateur actor. . So thankfully I turned out ok.
Thank you so much for that Tony. I just wonder how many more of us there are out there who suffered under the Smith regime.
I started at st George's in 1951,and I was met by head Austin Smith and his wife a Dutch headmistress. At first I was put in the first class of 5 in the school. The lady who was my teacher was a kind lady called Mrs Phillip's so for that term I only heard of Mrs Smith who would shout in her Germanic "Get you MILUCKS. SO THE FAITFULL DAY ARRIVED AND I ENTERED MR AND MRS SMITHS CLASS. FIRST WAS MATHS AND I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT AN INUS WAS my parent also didn't understand either . It was of course plus and minus. To this day I am hopeless at maths
The following day I wet my pants in the toilets .from then on my life was hell being asked in in front of the class"what colour blue braces were" I was too frightened to reply in case I got it wrong. They also stopped me writing left handed,so my handwriting slopp''s both ways. My dad is left handed and taught me to bat left handed. Oh know this is wrong said Mrs Smith. I spent a further five years under the regime, failing my 11 plus. By now I was a frightened boy of 11 whose schooling was wrecked by Mr and Mrs Austin Smith. However I am now 77 and well travelled and happily married. Who won acclaim as an amateur actor. . So thankfully I turned out ok.
I was at St George's in Flower Lane from around 1954-1961. I have interesting detailed memories of many people and events, including the monstrous Mrs Smith, the sweet and kind Mrs Philips and the jovial and very musical Australian Mr Allen, and would be happy to talk to others about those days. My email is pv100[at]cam.ac.uk

Yes, Ma Smith was obsessed with left-handedness. When we moved on from pencils to dip pens at the age of about 6, we weren't allowed blotting paper, so my wrist smudged whatever I'd just written (it might have been OK if we'd been writing in Arabic). I tried pressing ordinary paper on the ink and made a terrible mess. Her slap across my head sent me across the room. She was a terrible teacher and didn't explain anything. "You must buck up your ridees": Only later did I work out this meant "your ideas", and that "Axóntigu" meant "accent aigu". I later saw similar styles of bullying little children in other countries, long after they had disappeared in western Europe. Though she was particularly cruel (and I have never held it against the Netherlands), the hand thing was a widespread cultural obsession. As an adult, I was told by monks on Mount Athos that left-handedness was a sign of the devil; in Siberia during perestroika I was told that the ultimate sign of liberalisation and anarchy was that everything was now permitted – even left-handedness...

Piers Vitebsky

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