The Castle School Stanhope 1977 1980

A Memory of Stanhope.

I went to Castle School in 1977 till about 1980 and have some happy memories of the place. I was sent there because I was a handful at 11 years old, and no local school would take me! Some of the kids there came from really terrible family backgrounds, through no fault of their own, while some kids were just bad.
I wasn't happy being there at the time, but it got me an education, and got me away from the bad kids I knocked around with at home in Hartlepool. I was in Bewdley House, and the housemaster was called Mr O'Donavan. He was strict but fair, and knew and understood his kids. I talked to him in later years and he said I took to the countryside there like a duck to water, while some kids didn't like the area. True, there were some bad teachers there, but there were also some good ones as well. The school headmaster was called Mr Proud. He was strict, but could see a lot in kids that other teachers couldn't see. I liked him. When I first went there, it was run like an old 1950's private school. You had to march everywhere in twos while out walking, polish your boots and shoes first thing in the morning before breakfast, say grace at meal times and eat in silence. You had to go to church on a Sunday morning, and got home-leave every three weeks. They had a tuck shop on a Saturday night, and I used to get 10p pocket money (it didn't go very far!). I learnt to love the countryside while I was there and fell in love with the area. We used to go out and do a lot of walking in the surrounding countryside. It shaped my life and gave me a love of the countryside, wildlife and nature I have to this day.
We used to go camping every summer to Whitby, the money used to fund the trip was supposed to be from the tattie picking we did on the farms in September. One of the teachers later admitted to me, that an inspector ruled the camping inhumane. This was because they only allowed us to wear t shirts and shorts in camp, and it could be freezing camping sometimes! The Whitby camp trip was always looked forward to. The only time we really had any real freedom was when we went down to the arcades on an evening. The teachers and staff used to patrol the seafront from the bridge to pier, and we were not allowed out of this area. Of course we always managed to sneak to the newsagents for a packet of fags still, when the teachers were not looking! Part of the fun was sneaking away somewhere and having a smoke! We were allowed out in September on our own when the fairground visited Stanhope market place as well.
One of the worst things I can remember, was hearing the school leave list called out on a Friday. I never forget one kid sobbing his heart out in the schoolyard as he wasn't allowed home because of his bad behaviour. It was awful. The school later brought a grading system in for behaviour. The grades were set from one to five. It was worked out by staff giving the kids either a plus or a minus, depending on our behaviour. You could get up to five minus or plus points per member of staff. I used to average a grade three normally, but if you got grade one, you got additional home-leave that week. If you got grade five, you got no home-leave and had to scrub out the house washroom and toilets every night. It seemed to me that the same kids were either on grade one or five at the time.
The school and kids were not really liked in the village, but we did do things for the local area. We always had a bonfire and firework display every November on the school playing field, where the locals would come along (no doubt paid for by the lads tattie picking!). The school had its own garden, and grew a lot of its own food too. The food was always decent, but we had to eat everything given to us, even if we didn't like the food! We had to clear our plates and got one slice of white bread and one slice of brown bread with our meal. The food was healthy, but I always used to wonder why we never got toast on a morning. It was mainly bread and cereals.
They still used the cane when I first went there. Most schools in the 1970s would give you the cane across your hands (six of the best at the worst!), at the Castle School, you were caned on your bare buttocks if you were really bad. I remember one lad not being allowed to go home till the bruises had gone down, from being given six of the best. The cane got used less and less while I was there, and I think they stopped it. One of my class teachers hated me and used to beat me up now and again. I never used to complain though. I didn't dare say anything, but luckily I was moved out of his class. That teacher has a lot to answer for for the way he treated me, always putting me down! No wonder some of the kids would do a bunk from the place!
Being honest, it did me a lot of good being there in the end. I would say that schools like the Castle School are needed with the way some kids are now. I was one of the lucky ones and never had a criminal record thanks to the school. I now work in the Civil Service and have not been in trouble since then.

---

---