CHAPTER IV
MOTLEY
Miss Leila once remarked, in a burst of not-often expressed appreciation, that she thought it was rather remarkable, under the circumstances, that fifty adolescents and fifty small boys and girls were somehow got up, fed and got off to school, the first contingent soon after eight o'clock every morning and the rest soon after nine o'clock.
I often thought it was remarkable too as I persuaded the last girl out of the house and into the bus.
The school bus, which was a very small single-decker one, came to the back yard every morning: if anyone missed it they had a five-mile ride or walk to Wool to get the train.
The Juniors were taught in the more or less converted stable-block; their life followed very much the same pattern as that at The Mote.
Some terms later I had to take a class of girls for English. I had never taught before and had no qualifications but Miss Leila said there was no one else to do it so I must, and "anyway", she said, "you know the girls'". I certainly did but perhaps also knew what Miss Leila did not, that they were much more interested in comics than in any other form of English Literature.
Miss Leila also said I must teach what was known as "Scripture" then, but I jibbed at this and refused to be persuaded so the young woman in charge of Physical Training and Sport took this on.
At about half past four in the afternoon the school bus returned and decanted a hungry mob who were pacified by slabs of bread and margarine with sometimes a small spread of peanut butter or marmite and occasionally Australian honey, and cups of tea.
"Prep" for those who had it, was taken by Miss Dave in an outside classroom. There was no television or pop-music in those days, consequently the girls had many more occupations and interests than they did later, or so I always thought. After supper there was very often country dancing in the hall where the grand piano had found a place. This dancing was very popular and boys and girls and any staff who were free would jig about and up and down the hall for as long as they could. The girls who wished to work off their aggression or making protest about something, remained upstairs often noisy and unable to settle to anything.
The six years spent in the wilds of Dorset were, in some sense, I suppose, years in the wilderness although I personally do not remember feeling cut off from the rest of civilisation; yet we were denuded of any social life except that which we made for ourselves; but it must have been frustrating for anyone with no liking for the country: if you were an adult you could of course leave, but not if you were an adolescent, and many of the girls who were sent by the Home Office came from large cities, generally London, and they must have yearned for the bright lights, the cinemas, cafes and streets of their native environment and I think they were just bored with country life and did not take kindly to communal living. They had little freedom at the Community simply owing to circumstances of life. There was nowhere to go if they had had more liberty, except Wareham, which was a long five miles away: no buses ran there, few of the staff had cars then, petrol was rationed and who in their senses would anyway want to bicycle, let alone walk down that pot-holed wind-swept drive in pitch darkness to get to Wareham where soon after five o'clock everything was shut?
There was a little flea-house of a cinema in Wareham to which all and any went when possible. It cost 4d to sit in the front rows. The one and only cafe, the Rainbow, so called from its faded striped rainbow-coloured curtains in the windows, provided dry little cakes made with dried egg-powder and packets of potato crisps. The crisps and cafe were then the nearest landmarks of civilisation for those restless city-bred girls.
The Seniors were run, as it were, on a "Prefectorial" system and on a system of privileges for the virtuous. The prefects, who were not known as such, as Miss Leila, I think, thought it too conventional a title, were a very responsible hard working band of the elder boys and girls who did their best to cope with situations and individuals. It was often very difficult to know what privileges to afford to the good. "Social Duties" as at The Mote, still took place on Saturday evenings.
Any Seniors over the age of fourteen wore a uniform but it was given only on merit; later anyone reaching fourteen automatically wore it. It had originated from Gordonstoun. Miss Leila was a great friend of Kurt Hahn, Founder and Headmaster at Gordonstoun. She was a Governor of the school and a great admirer of its life and aims and she was always disappointed when the Community failed to come up to the standards of Gordonstoun, and she expressed this strongly when she returned from visits to Scotland and found that so often we really seemed so very unlike Gordonstoun, though why there should have been any resemblance at all I always failed to see.
The uniform, as far as the girls were concerned was, I thought, quite an attractive and innocuous one consisting of a grey tunic, blue blouse and grey jersey; it looked comfortable and suited all figures. I don't think the girls took to it, but then whoever heard of any school-boy or girl approving of a uniform any more than of a school meal? The boys wore grey jerseys and rather thin blue aertex shirts, and grey shorts which were an endless bone of contention: they must have been very chilly in winter and I think the majority felt very foolish in them and would so much have preferred long trousers: it was many a long year before they were allowed.
Personally I was very glad when eventually age was the only criterion for the wearing of this uniform, as it did away with a lot of jealousy and bickering; on Saturdays the girls wore what clothes they liked.
Another Gordonstoun scheme that found its way to the Community was what was known as a "Training Plan”. Miss Leila was very enthusiastic about this. The idea was to train the indifferent or lazy adolescent by easy means to be honest, truthful and law-abiding down to cleaning the teeth and brushing the hair daily. The older children marked these plans themselves but the adult in charge of the group marked the plans of the younger ones.
Personally I found the whole business rather tedious and boring and there was never time to do it properly; the majority of the girls anyway spent as much time in the bathroom as possible attending to their hair, or brushing their teeth with an inordinate amount of toothpaste as it was peppermint-flavoured: some of them never spoke the truth unless it suited them: perhaps this sounds rather harsh judgment but it was just one of those facts of life that I learned to live with. It is possible of course, that these Plans may have helped some and the principle of them was a right one as the intention was to do away with endless questioning and nagging. I had a great admiration for much that went on in Gordonstoun and liked Kurt Hahn but somehow this particular scheme failed in the Community.
Gordonstoun was very generous in giving Bursaries to various Community boys, some of whom spent from three to four years there. It must have been very difficult for them at first, as life at Gordonstoun could not have been at all like life at the Community, despite Miss Leila's fervent wish that it should be. The only time Miss Dave ever allowed a faint breath of criticism of Miss Leila to creep in was when we were so unfavourably compared with Gordonstoun.
The successful running of winter week-ends naturally depended a good deal on the weather but all were supposed to be outside on Saturday afternoons having air and exercise. The boys did go for long expeditions but very many of them had bicycles which solved the transport problem; there were a few among the girls. I ran a small car for the first three years of the war, then gave it up.
It was a valiant little vehicle being perpetually overloaded in my efforts to get twenty-five girls to any given destination.
I once took nine girls, five in the back seat sitting on top of each other, two in the front and, disgraceful as it was, two standing one on each side on the running-boards, holding on to the open windows. They all walked to the end of the drive and I picked them up there. No one saw us go, no one saw us return; the car did not break up, the springs held and no one fell off the running-boards: everyone went satisfactorily to the cinema, and we came back in the same manner. I considered this a very satisfactory feat. The other was connected with transport. On another Saturday afternoon the Wareham cinema was again showing what was euphemistically called a "suitable" film and the girls had gone off after mid-day dinner to see it; this time they had managed to get lifts in other cars going that way, bicycles were available and several went on foot: they probably thumbed lifts from the soldiery passing up and down from Bovington camp but I did not ask about this. One girl was left behind and was very upset at this. I had by now sold my car but I had got a bicycle. This girl had never learnt to ride so the question was how was she to be got to Wareham in time for that cinema. I got out my bicycle, sat her on the saddle, she was fortunately not very big; she clasped me round the waist and I stood on the pedals and away we went. I simply pedalled, standing up as it were; when I could do no more we rested by the wayside and eventually, exhausted but triumphant, we reached Wareham. She was after that taught to ride a bicycle herself. She is now an eminent artist and designer, her latest designs being the "Jane Austen" postage stamps that the Post Office issued last year. She has no doubt long since forgotten that ride but I never forgot it.
There was one occasion when I had a hectic kind of "Paul Revere" ride to Wareham. I had allowed some of the girls to go there alone and unattended which they were not supposed to do; I was just having a cup of tea in the Staff room before returning to those that had not gone to Wareham but had graciously allowed themselves to be taken for quite a long walk, when the Air Raid siren went. If the girls were going to be bombed I must be with them, I thought, so out came the bicycle and I pedalled madly down to Wareham reaching it as the "All-clear" went and I saw the girls all sitting smugly with potato crisps and cups of tea in that blessed Rainbow Cafe.
Sundays followed The Mote pattern. Miss Leila took two Chapel services in the morning in an outside building, which may have been the original dairy, and was now turned into a chapel. The Sunday afternoon walk was given up and most of the boys played football out on a pitch in the park or paddock.
After tea there was an hour's reading: the Seniors being divided into groups and read aloud to. One of the most successful, I always thought, was that taken by Miss Dave. She read the whole of Mrs. Gaskell's "Wives and Daughters", which was much liked and she then went on to the Hardy novels. She read many of these term after term and they were very much appreciated and enjoyed I think. I never heard any single girl who went to her "Sunday Reading" complain or express any feelings of dislike or boredom. Miss Leila had a group of about half a dozen of the most senior girls, and sometimes boys: I had a fairly large group of what was left over. I have not much recollection now of what I read but I probably tried all sorts - adventure, romance, mystery: and I do not remember any disturbances during this hour.