大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Louise Angell of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Ann Gibbs and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

Another early example of re-cycling was the Rag-and Bone man, whose distinctive call, 鈥淩ag-bone鈥� was heard every week in the streets of the town as he walked his horse and cart along. Housewives could take along old clothing or tin items, etc. and would be rewarded by a number of 鈥渄onkey stones鈥�, which were used to whiten their doorsteps.

Petrol, of course, was another rationed commodity, so there were few cars on the roads at that time, and roads were safe places 鈥� we played on them quite happily. Mainly, if we wanted to go anywhere, certainly within Buxton, we walked. Driving to school or work was indeed rare. Holidays were another thing, which we didn鈥檛 have, but we never missed them! After the end of the war, holidays were taken fairly close to home, many people from Buxton, like ourselves, holidaying in Blackpool. Conditions then were very inferior to those we have today, with one toilet on the landing to be shared by occupants of several bedrooms, and only a washbasin in each room- or as it was termed H&C in all rooms! (This was a big improvement on the conditions our parents grew up with, when there was a bowl and a jug which was filled each morning with warm water, in the bedroom for washing and shaving.) I was lucky enough to have relatives in Cornwall, and enjoyed many holidays down there before it became as busy and popular as it is now.

Many families, of course had no man in the house, as they were away fighting, but here I was lucky 鈥� my two 鈥淒ads鈥� were both at home, one being too old to join up, (having done his share of defending our island in the First World War) and my natural father being disabled, having lost a finger and badly burnt his arm.

Tights were another item, which hadn鈥檛 yet arrived 鈥� stockings and suspenders were the order of the day, and stockings were in short supply. The American Forces were, I believe responsible for the introduction of 鈥渘ylons鈥� to the young women in this country, and they were really treasured. I can remember hearing stories of some young ladies painting their legs with gravy browning, and drawing a line down the back of their legs with eyebrow pencil, to simulate the popular seams. We children wore thick woolly knee socks, and the poor boys shivered in short trousers until they were about twelve.

Central heating in the home was still to arrive here, and very few people were fortunate enough to have heating of any kind in their bedrooms; we were all entranced on winter mornings to see the lacy patterns seemingly drawn on the insides of our windows, by the frost. We had coal fires downstairs, and it was exciting to imagine pictures in the flames and smoke. These fires usually heated the household water by means of the 鈥渂ack-boiler鈥�, and although we had lovely hot water, when the tank was emptied by say, a bath, it took ages to reheat! It was a special treat, coming home on a cold winter day, to make toast by the fire 鈥� holding a slice of bread near to the fire on a long toasting fork 鈥攚hat a glowing face resulted, but the toast was delicious. Chestnuts roasted on a real fire were a very special treat at Christmas time.

The coalman was a regular caller at every house, and appeared to be just two eyes and a row of teeth, peeping out from his totally black person! He was also very strong, spending his entire working day filling and delivering 1cwt. (50.8 kg.) sacks all round the town and surrounding area.

Life was much more formal, both at work and at home. Certainly at work, and frequently at home, colleagues and neighbours were referred to as 鈥淢r.and Mrs.鈥�, rather than by Christian name, as is the habit today. Holidays were the only time when casual wear appeared, it was always collar and tie for men, even in the hottest of weather, and sandals, shorts, etc., were not seen in towns or cities. Ladies never went out without stockings 鈥� even if these were darned! Hats were the fashion of the day, and even we children usually wore them, and ladies were never seen without their gloves, even at the height of summer.

My Dad had a pair of casual trousers (called 鈥渇lannels鈥�) which he wore along with short sleeved, open necked shirts, and sandals on holiday; after our holidays, they were washed, pressed, and stored in the suitcase along with the toiletry case, in readiness for the next year.

Ladies always wore pinafores or aprons to protect their clothes whilst working in the house, but these were removed in the afternoon, which was often 鈥渞est time鈥�
Children would never address an adult by Christian name 鈥� if the relationship was too close for formality, we all had lots of 鈥渁unts and uncles鈥� who were truly no relation

We were all issued with Gas Masks, which arrived in a cardboard box- and young children could be issued with Mickey Mouse versions, which were not as frightening. I remember mine quite clearly, but do not recall having to wear it on any occasion.

First school days for children living in the central areas of Buxton, were spent at Hardwick Square Infants School; Miss Smith was the headmistress, and we all respected her greatly. She had an office upstairs, and it was a place we never wanted to be called to!

Miss Redfern taught the reception class, and here learning was mixed with play, as it is today. Most of us were spending our first days away from Mum, as there was no Playschool then, and only the very few privileged children attended Macphail鈥檚 nursery on Lightwood Road.

Miss Broomhead was my next teacher, followed by Miss Stone and then Mrs. Nadin (I think she may even have still been Miss Handley in those days and she went on to teach my three offspring years later) All of them were much loved, and very skilled at imparting knowledge. Most of us were able to read and write at an early age, and we quickly learned to spell correctly.

A walk down the school corridor was punctuated by the sounds of 鈥渢imes tables鈥� echoing from different classrooms, and these early lessons are something I still use in my daily life sixty years later, and for which I have always been grateful.

Pens and pencils were handed out as required by a monitor, and collected in again at the end of the lesson. They were hard to replace in wartime, and had to be carefully looked after; art materials were also precious, and we occasionally had poster paints, or charcoal to make black and white pictures. Of course, paper was also scarce, and had to be used on both sides, and on every possible line. Once, we discovered that the toilet paper, which was stored in the classroom cupboard and issued to us when necessary, by the sheet, made excellent tracing paper, and after many of us had requested paper, and to 鈥渂e excused鈥�, Mrs. Nadin tumbled to our ruse, and we really got a roasting for that little trick!

Classes were much larger than they are today, usually over forty children per teacher, with no help in the classroom.

At Christmas, we would make little gifts for our parents, using any old cards or scraps, which we and the teachers could find or beg. Decorations were also produced, paper lanterns and chains, made from sheets of paper on which we had done class work earlier in the year.

We learned simple craftwork and knitted dishcloths, (even the boys!!) and knitted striped mittens for ourselves from scraps of wool.

We had playtime each morning and afternoon, as well as the play at lunch time; each child was entitled to a third of a pint of milk each morning, which was delivered in crates of tiny bottles to the school, and in winter it usually arrived frozen. Our favourite games were Hopscotch, Mummies and Daddies, Hospitals, In and out the Dusty Bluebells, Cowboys and Indians,The Farmer wants a wife, and of course, School! In winter the playground would be covered with slides, and ring to the joyful cries of snowball fights.

We did have P.E. lessons too, of course, but the equipment was very much short of today鈥檚 standards; I remember mostly using beanbags for catching and throwing, and hoops, which were used in many ways.

Music wasn鈥檛 neglected, but our instruments were shakers, triangles and other percussion items 鈥� no violins or even recorders, at least not at school. Many of us had private lessons in piano, and there were dancing lessons available in the town at two studios.

鈥淪chool dinner 鈥� was something I tried to avoid, as living on High Street, I was able to walk home from Hardwick Square each lunchtime; the school meals were cooked in a central kitchen, and delivered to the school in large metal containers. With the shortage of food, the menu was very limited; I seem to remember carrots, which tasted tinny, soggy cabbage, and lots of 鈥渇rog spawn鈥� pudding 鈥� sago pudding to the uninitiated. I suppose it was a way to augment the rationed food, though, and supply a hot meal every day for 2/1d.per week. (just a little over 10 pence) Dinner money was collected each Monday morning, and we all went to school with our little purses containing this, and any money our families could spare, for National Savings stamps.

By the late forties things had improved slightly, and then two air-raid shelters which stood in the playground were removed, and new classrooms built, which we called 鈥渢he huts鈥�

The next stage of our education was Junior School, which was just over the wall! By this time, the war was over, and some commodities were beginning to find their way back into our lives; it was, however, a slow process.

The head was Mr.A.V.Heywood, a very tall man, who seemed like a giant to a small child- and he was very strict with us, although very kindly. He would come into the classes and give us quite difficult mental arithmetic problems to solve, something else, which I believe has held me in good stead through my adult life!

Miss Clayton was my first teacher in the Juniors, and we were all a bit afraid or her; she was very strict, must have had a kind streak, as I recall her giving 3d. (just over 1p,) to every child who came 鈥渢op鈥� in any subject in the year-end exams, and it was an appreciated gift. She was followed by Mrs. Howe, who rewarded good behaviour by reading us a story just before 鈥渉ometime鈥�, and I still recall the silent class, listening with baited breath to an Enid Blyton adventure story, read in her inimitable style. Mr. Lomas was next, and it was a novelty to be taught by a man. Miss Moore, who was an excellent teacher, who had a habit of spitting as she spoke, governed the final year of happy schooling at Hardwick Square; it was often said that the front row of desks needed an umbrella.

During our Junior years, we were taught to do 鈥渞eal writing鈥�, and allowed to use a pen; this was not a fountain pen or biro, but a pen with a nib. Each of our desks had an inkwell, and it was a really good 鈥渟kive鈥� to be ink monitor; the ink had to be mixed from powder in a big jug, and all the inkwells filled.

In these years, work became much harder, and we were all groomed for the dreaded Eleven Plus, (known to us all as 鈥淭he Scholarship鈥�) and which would determine the next school we would attend. Our behaviour also was important, we were punished by the cane for very bad behaviour, administered by Mr. Heywood, or the ruler on our hands for lesser misdemeanours, administered in front of the whole class by the teacher.

By this stage, the late forties, circumstances had improved, and although there was still some rationing, (and here I recall particularly sweets!) we were able to call at Mrs. Armitt鈥檚 shop on the corner of Hardwick Square, and spend our pennies. Our favourites were sherbet, and liquorice root, which we would often dip into a bag of lemonade powder, if we could get our hands on any. Another favourite trick was to raid the food cupboard at home and put a couple of teaspoons of cocoa powder into a tin or bag along with a similar amount of sugar. This made a very tasty dip for our fingers 鈥� very unhygienic, and certainly frowned upon by the mums, who were still trying to make ends meet.

We could still play out in the streets, and had many happy hours playing whip and top, Cowboys and Indians, etc., and skipping, even cricket or football if the lads were short of team members. Some of us now had 鈥� proper鈥� bikes 鈥� mine, I remember, was a present for passing the Eleven Plus, and riding round was a pleasure, in the absence of all the traffic. I think my most memorable trip was freewheeling down Topley Pike, but I suspect that I would have had a good hiding if mum and dad had known about it at the time.

At school, craft items were more readily available, and we made simple sewn items, like basket covers or hankies embroidered with an initial.

The last stage of our education, Senior school, was not, as our early schools had been, co-educational; boys who succeeded at the Eleven Plus went to Buxton College, and the others went to Kents Bank Secondary Modern School 鈥� similarly girls who succeeded went to Cavendish Grammar School, and the others went to Silverlands Secondary Modern School. Silverlands and Cavendish are now demolished, and new houses are built on the sites, Kents Bank is now the Buxton Library, and the only survivor is Buxton College, which became today鈥檚 Community School.

Many changes came along with the grown-up feeling, which arrived when we started 鈥渂ig school鈥�. I think one of the most memorable was uniform 鈥� which we had never had before. Mine, at Cavendish, was navy blue, and I used to go every day and look at it, spread out on the bed in the spare room, during the holiday before starting; I was particularly proud of the blazer with the embroidered badge on the breast pocket. Another big difference was, instead of teachers, having masters and mistresses, who wore their academic gowns, and having different ones for different subjects, instead of one teacher all the time. We also began the chore of homework, which naturally increased in volume and difficulty as we neared the G.C.E. examinations in our fifth year at the school. We also had the opportunity to make new friends, as children from the schools at Fairfield, Burbage and Harpur Hill, and some of the outlying villages, as well as some of the private schools, were now travelling in to town to join together in the last stage of our local education.

Miss Millicent Mansell was the head teacher at Cavendish, and she really tried to turn us in to young ladies - no rolled up sleeves, even in summer, no running inside, berets to be worn at all times out of school when in uniform, no eating in the street, and no walking more than two abreast.

At Cavendish, almost everyone stayed for 鈥渟chool dinner鈥�, which was very different from those we had suffered in infant and junior school, being cooked on the premises, and having a much more varied menu.

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