Memories of ex QC John Stephens [1954 - 1959]
[Note: To save space and repetition, QC = Queen’s College, and J.B. = Johnson Ball, where appropriate]
QUEEN’S COLLEGE MEMORIES
Having found the new (and very good) Queen’s College website, and seeing that it asks for memories, I thought I’d give it a try, so:
I was born and bred in Stourbridge, and up to the age of eight I was a pupil at Hill St. Primary School (a.k.a. from its initials - H.S.P.S. - as Hill St. Pig Sty). I can’t remember much about it, (except that the headmaster was cane-happy), but in any case it’s academic because something occurred which was, as they say, life changing. In April ’53 I was seriously hurt in a road accident.
I was in hospital for a week and by the time I was fit to go back to school I was a long way behind the rest of the class. I struggled to keep up, but there was little or no help from the teaching staff, and things were just getting worse.
My parents were very concerned, and at great sacrifice to themselves (no new car, etc.) I was moved to the then quite new Queen’s College, in Red Hill.
The Headmaster (he preferred ‘Principal’) was Dr Johnson Ball, (see note 1), who had a reputation as a strict disciplinarian, but who, fortunately, I just about managed to keep on the right side of, (most of the time!)
Our nickname for him (although never within earshot!) was The Pill, this being slang for a ball, but not of the sports variety
THE SCHOOL (REDHOLME, RED HILL)
The school itself was in a large private house, Redholme, opposite Junction Rd., and it was enlarged still further with the acquisition and conversion of the house next door, which formed part of the same building.
Off hand I can’t remember where the main front door was (no doubt we wouldn’t have been allowed to use it anyway!), but from the street we generally went up some steps and around the left-hand side of the building to reach the back door, or, if it was open, there was a door from the street into the cellar, from which we could go upstairs to the hallway (very useful in wet weather)
Whilst in the cellar, this is perhaps an appropriate place to mention that, so far as I recall, we weren’t allowed to wear our outdoor shoes in school.
If I remember right we each had a peg in one corner of the cellar, and at the same time as hanging up our coats we had to change into pumps (plimsoles) for indoor use.
My recollection of the actual rooms are a bit sketchy. From the back door we went straight into a hallway, and immediately on the left were the stairs leading down to the aforementioned cellar.Next on the left a flight of stairs went back on itself to the upstairs rooms. At the bottom of these stairs a door on the left went into the dining room (or refectory as J.B. insisted), at the rear of which was the kitchen. All of this must originally have been the servant’s quarters, for at the far end of the hallway there was a door to the right which led into a different world. Through this doorway, and you immediately came into a big hall, like a small Stately Home, with a massive and elaborate wooden staircase on which the stairs went part way up, turned left and up some more, then left again and up some more onto a fairly spacious landing. As I recall there were some large pictures lining the staircase walls, but I can’t really remember what they were. There were two large classrooms adjacent to the bottom of the stairs, both of which looked out onto Red Hill. On the opposite side, overlooking the back lawn, was the Music Room, the domain of Mr. Smith, who I suppose was friendly enough, but just didn’t look it. The thing I remember vividly about the music room was a picture above the fireplace. This, (on the QC website as Elizabethan Lady), always used to slightly unnerve us, because wherever we were in the room her eyes were always looking straight at us. Good artwork, but weird!
From the main hall a corridor led off, perhaps to the front door, and on the right of this corridor, next to the Music Room was the Office. When I arrived in ’54 this was the domain of Mrs. Townsend, the Secretary, but after some time she left, I think to have a baby, and I can’t remember who replaced her.
I can’t really remember, but I think there were three large classrooms upstairs, probably to the layout of the downstairs rooms. There may have been more, and, given the size of the house, possibly an attic floor, but I simply can’t remember
This was, of course, the original building, and as we’ve seen, J.B. had extended into next door. To get into this section there was either a door or an archway (can’t remember which) leading from the first hallway, and adjacent to the door into the main hall. This extra house was big in itself, comprising many rooms on different storeys. Although I can’t remember the exact layout I do vividly remember that one of our classrooms was actually a converted attic, at the top of God knows how many flights of stairs, and with just a skylight for illumination.
To the rear of the building there was a fair sized lawn, but as I can never remember going on this I think it may well have been out-of-bounds.
From the building a path led beside the lawn and eventually arrived at what must have been the old stable block, which was now a craft room, complete with a potter’s wheel. I remember no playground in the conventional sense, but at break-time we all went to a dirt-track next to the school. (It was later developed into Ibstock Drive). This was actually a private driveway leading to one or two houses, but it was plenty big enough for our needs, with the strict order that we mustn’t go out onto Red Hill.
My overriding memory of this drive is of two cars which used to be parked there, although not at the same time, one a Triumph Mayflower, quite upmarket for its day and which I think was J.B’s., and the other a Jowett Javelin, a sporty saloon which I’d think unlikely to be his
Because the grounds were not massively big there was no space for games and sport. The boys of course played football, (can’t remember what the girls played), and for this we had to walk just 200 yards or so past the Girls High School (as it was then) to the Junction Rd. Playing Fields, where there was a football pitch of sorts.This we did for perhaps a year , but then switched venues to ‘The Bogs’ in Stanley Rd., which was quite a distance away, so that we had a fair old walk to get there, and another one back when we were already exhausted from playing
Another of our sports activities was swimming (of which more anon), and for this we all trooped off down to Stourbridge Baths, although on occasions when we couldn’t go we went down into the cellar where we were expected to lie lengthwise on a bench and go through the motions of swimming
I seem to recall that the cellar was also used for P.T. (Physical Training) when the weather was bad, although the ceiling was so low that even we, as youngsters, had to mind our heads!
THE SCHOOL (PRESCOTT)
Although nowhere is perfect, I rather liked Redholme, I suppose because after four years I’d got very much used to it.
In 1958 though came a very big change, for the whole school moved lock, stock, and barrel to Prescott House at the top of Chawn Hill. Sorry to say, but I wasn’t at all impressed. By comparison with Redholme it was massive, but a lot of it was out-of-bounds, so there wasn’t really that much difference. For example we had to use the small back stairs, just like Victorian servants, and although there were massive grounds the ‘playground’ was still restricted to the adjacent courtyard. We were allowed into the rather large walled garden and the hot-houses for ‘gardening’ lessons, during which we seemed to spend a lot of time digging. With the benefit of hindsight, and a liberal dose of scepticism, I’ve come to the conclusion that we were simply saving J.B. the cost of a gardener.
I wasn’t at Prescott very long (more anon), and sorry to say but I can’t remember anything good about it.
THE TEACHERS
Although I’ve seen photos, and vaguely remember one or two names, for the most part I can’t remember who taught me what. Apart from J.B., who I can’t remember actually teaching us, the only names I recall from the Redholme group photo are Mr. Smith and Mrs. Whitfield. I must have known the others but I simply can’t remember. In another photo is a Miss Dagley, and again I vaguely remember the name but nothing else. Three not on the photo are Miss Howarth, Mr. Farmer, and Miss Tissington. Miss Howarth (‘Howie’) lived in Hagley Rd., not far from the railway bridge, and was a firm favourite of us all. She treated each of us as a friend, rather than a pupil, and even came to a couple of my birthday parties. If I remember rightly she taught us English, and she had a fund of stories to make her points. Our favourite, emphasising the need for spelling and pronunciation, was about when, during the war, she had been a W.A.A.F. In the middle of a freezing cold winter she was told that she was being posted to Persia, and instructed to draw tropical kit from the stores. When she reported to the transit camp she learned that she was actually going to Pershore! She was a lovely lady and we were all very sorry when she left
Mr. Farmer was better known as Brian Farmer, and played full-back for Birmingham City. I remember him taking us down to the Junction Rd. playing field a few times, but unless you showed talent as a footballer, which I didn’t, he didn’t seem all that bothered and we finished up just doing some cross-country running. Can’t really remember any more about him. Miss Tissington was legendary. A large lady, she seemed to be permanently dressed in an old beige gabardine raincoat, a bit like an oversized Columbo, and used to ride everywhere on an old sit-up-and-beg bicycle. I’m not sure that she was on the staff full-time, but she tried to teach us to swim. Unfortunately, so far as I was concerned it was too late, because some time before this the baths instructor, a Mr. Hare, had damn near drowned me and put me right off swimming. Miss Tissington tried, but it was many years, and long after school-days, before I eventually learnt
Mrs. Whitfield is in the photo. I certainly remember her by name, and I think she took us for some of the lessons, but the photo isn’t how I remember her. Well, it is nearly 60 years!
Mr. Smith, who was the music teacher, I definitely do remember. I was lucky enough to have a reasonable singing voice, and my parents arranged for me to have extra singing lessons from Mr. Smith. He taught me how to control my breathing, how to hit and hold the right notes, and how to project my voice without shouting or straining. The music was, of course, very traditional. Rock and roll hadn’t yet been invented, and would certainly have been disapproved of, pop music was the likes of Alma Cogan, Perry Como, and Donald Peers, and instead I well recall many hours perfecting “Where the bee sucks, there lurk I”, (which I can still sing after all these years!)
J.B. seemed to be particularly keen on the School Choir, and as a prominent member it perhaps got me a few Brownie points. We even went in for some competitions against other schools, and although I can’t remember whether we won, I do recall us getting to some finals at Netherton. I also well recall us giving a carol concert at the Carlisle Hall, and being able to sing treble with no effort (those were the days!), I was chosen to sing the descant counterpoint in some of the carols. After all this time I’ve forgotten most of our repertoire, but I do recall one staple item being the hymn ‘Non Nobis Domine’, a particular favourite of J.B., and another being ‘The Windmill’ (can’t remember a word or a note) because Redholme was on the site of an ancient windmill. Can’t remember much more about music, except that one of the lady teachers was pretty good at playing the zither.
There are three, possibly four other teachers I remember, although for the life of me I can’t remember what they taught, or even much about them. They were Mr. Danreuter, Mr. Dan, Mr. Done (who insisted that it be pronounced to rhyme with cone), and, I think, a Mr. Dunn, (although I might be getting him mixed up with Mr. Dan or Mr Done!)
All of these came to the school at around the time of the transfer to Prescott, and one of them (I honestly can’t remember which, so I’d better not give a name) was responsible for my leaving. More of that anon, though.
THE PUPILS
Of course the most important ingredient of any school is (are?) the pupils, for without them there would be no school. After almost sixty years I simply can’t remember many of the names I’ve seen on the website, and most of the others are vague memories and little more, but I became good friends with a few of them, and still see at least one of them to this day. Let me mention some names I remember. Firstly the boys: David Pritchard; Martin Whittaker (and his younger brother, Julian); David Rhead; Paul Pearson; Andrew Vance; the Woodroffe brothers (twins?), Stuart and Martin; Martin Bolton; Don Taylor; David Pengelly; Brian Perry; Richard Harris; Robert Hatcher; Stephen Brown and Alan Ashford, son of one of the Ashfords of Ashford's Dairy fame [last spoke to him some 20 years or so ago].
There may also have been a Richard Ball, because the nickname ‘Dickie Pill’ rings a bell, and I don’t for one moment think it would have been JB. He was Robin Brettle (or Brettell?) He lived in the big old house in Oldnall Rd., Wollescote, right opposite Careless Green. I think his father was a teacher at Halesowen. And the girls, although I’m sorry to say there are only five I can remember, namely: Elizabeth Clements; Susanne Forbes; Diana Dunn; Gay(e) Vallender and Christine Wareham. Many of them are just names, but some were more than that. David Roland Pritchard was perhaps my best pal at Q.C., and we used to go to each others houses and birthday parties, etc. We kept in touch after we left school, and used to socialise, but then wives and families came along so that we tended to see each other less, and not for far too long now. I’ll have to get in touch with him one day.
Martin Whittaker was another good pal, and again we bumped into each other for some years afterwards. David Rhead was another good pal, and since we live just around the corner from each other we still each other, if only to wave in passing. Likewise I still bump into Paul Pearson now and again.
Andrew Vance’s family used to live next door to us, but they moved away about they time I left Q.C. and I hadn’t seen him since. Then one day a couple of years ago a relative mentioned that Andrew (now Andy) had been visiting the area and had asked after me. We met up, (at the preserved railway in Wales where he’s very involved), and it was nice to have a chat again after all these years. I haven’t seen Richard Harris since I left, but my wife has!
In about 1970 she had to have an emergency op. to remove her appendix. It all went well, and afterwards the surgeon, seeing her name and address, asked if she was related to me. It turned out to be Richard Harris, and she was his first operation!
Not at all sure, but I think Don Taylor may have become an R.A.F. pilot. Elizabeth Clements lived in Hope St., Wordsley. I mention this because Elizabeth was my first girlfriend, (all innocent, we were only about nine!), and when she invited me home to tea after school I didn’t need to be asked twice, and went back with her on the ‘bus. Big mistake! I hadn’t thought to tell my parents, and when I got back all Hell had broken loose and there were search parties out for me! I wasn’t allowed to forget that in a hurry!
ORGANISATION
So far as organisation was concerned, I think J.B. must have been a fan of Tom Brown’s Schooldays, or Billy Bunter(!), because we didn’t simply have class numbers, but fancy names such as The Remove, and Remove II. Also, the school was divided into three ‘houses’ or sections, Bedcote, Hanbury, and Wychbury, each named after a local hill, and encouraged to compete against each other in various spheres.
LESSONS AND DISCIPLINE
These two rather go together, because poor performance in lessons invariably led to retribution. I really can’t remember too much about the lessons, and certainly who taught what, but they must have done a reasonable job, because I don’t think I’m entirely thick, (except around the waistline these days!). We learned French (which few other schools did in those days) and even today I can just about get by, and can sing a passable version of La Marseillaise. Some classes took Latin, but we never did.
J.B. was very strong on penmanship (a.k.a. handwriting), and we spent many hours perfecting a very fine and elaborate style (with fountain pens - ballpoints strictly forbidden) which, I’m sorry to say, didn’t last in the real world of getting on with it quickly. We also had spelling and punctuation drummed into us with regular but unscheduled tests to keep us on our toes, and there were even elocution lessons, which you would never have found in a State school.
Discipline was part and parcel of Q.C. For very serious crimes it was up in front of J.B. for six of the best with the cane. Fortunately I never got to that level. For lesser crimes, and for poor schoolwork, or perhaps missing homework, it was detention, which meant staying in class for anything up to an hour after school, even if your parents were waiting impatiently outside for you. The problem was that detention wasn’t spent doing anything useful, like studying what you’d missed or catching up on homework. You might perhaps be given a hundred lines, ‘I must not etc., etc., etc.’ one hundred times, but more often you just had to sit there, and an hour just sitting there seems like ten. Believe me I know, many many times over!
AND THEN IT ALL WENT SOUR
At Redholme I’d done quite well and been quite happy, but as already mentioned I wasn’t all that keen on Prescott. This was compounded by the behaviour of one of the teachers. We had it on good authority that he used to get p****d every night then take out his hangover on us the next day. He dished out detentions like confetti, and even the cane, which was supposed to be exclusively the decision of J.B. He seemed to take a special dislike to me, and whilst I didn’t actually get the cane I seemed to be in detention most days. I now realise that this teacher was a totally sadistic b*****d, who should never have been allowed within a hundred miles of a school, but of course I was then just a pupil. I became most unhappy, and started to find excuses not to go. When my parents found out what was happening and complained to J.B. he seemed more interested in his new empire and its artworks, and eventually my parents decided that I’d move. They wrote to tell J.B. and that certainly shook him, especially as some other long-time pupils were also taken out. He even paid a personal visit to our house to try to get my parents to reconsider, but the die had been cast and in January 1959 I bade farewell to Queen’s College and started at Elmfield School, which I very much enjoyed.
EPILOGUES
THE FIRST - DO YOU EVER GET THE FEELING YOU’VE BEEN SOMEWHERE BEFORE
Queen’s College wasn’t to be my last visit to Redholme - far from it. Elmfield had many boarders, and most of these were accommodated in two hostels. One of the teachers, Mr. (David) Chopping, ran one of the hostels, and finding that his house in South Rd. was getting too small, he bought Redholme.. Since I was friends with a couple of his children I visited there often, and since I knew it like the back of my hand I was able to act as a bit of a guide, even to showing them a few hideyholes, etc. Happy days are here again!
THE SECOND AND FINAL
In 1985, almost thirty years after I’d left, I read that Dr. Johnson Ball had died. Out of respect I attended his funeral, at Clent church, which was a fairly modest affair. To the best of my knowledge I was the only ex Queen’s College pupil there.
Looking back, I think that Queen’s College was generally a force for good in my life, and certainly drummed ‘the 3 r’s’ into me, not to mention what I hope was a bit of character building It was a pity it all ended a bit sourly, but that was down to one bad individual, and I prefer to concentrate on all the good memories.
John Stephens
14.5.12
Note 1
JOHNSON BALL
Dr. Johnson Ball founded Queen’s College in 1953. He was undoubtedly a brilliant academic, with a background in engineering, and until 1952 Mr. Johnson Ball had been Principal of Halesowen Technical College. Then, however, he had been dismissed by the Governors in very controversial circumstances. In fact such was the controversy that there was a 500 strong public meeting, a 14,000 strong petition demanding his re-instatement, and even a debate in Parliament (Hansard, 1 August 1952). One of the aggravating factors was that the decision had been taken in secret, and the reasons for it were not given. Nobody doubted his integrity or his academic prowess, but it seems to have been common knowledge that there were three main reasons for the dismissal:
1. Although once cordial, his relations with the Governors had completely broken down over a number of things. He had been very outspoken about them, and they had reached the end of their tether.
2. As he got older he seemed to get more obsessive and complaints were received from parents that he was much too fond of dishing out the cane for trivial reasons, with one boy even getting it for not attending prayers.
3. Perhaps most notorious was the ‘Forever Amber’ affair. ‘Forever Amber’ was a novel, rather along the lines of Moll Flanders or Tom Jones, but a bit stronger. Nowadays it would barely raise an eyebrow, but in those days it was considered to be the work of the Devil, and Johnson Ball would not tolerate anything of that sort. When he caught one of the girl pupils not only reading it, but copying extracts for her friends to read, He immediately expelled her, which soon made the daily papers and brought yet more complaints for the Governors to deal with.
It appears from the Hansard debate that things had turned very bitter indeed, and there is reference to him losing his pension, and for it being impossible for him to find another appointment with a dismissal on his record. Quite how things were resolved is a mystery, for there is no trace of a follow-up report. What is certain however, is that whether settled amicably or not, he never went back to Halesowen, and just twelve months later he started Queen’s College. Another mystery is that of his Doctorate. Throughout the Hansard report he is referred to as Mr. Johnson Ball, and the Prospectus for the opening of Queen’s College makes no mention of a Doctorate. He was however, Dr. Ball when I started in’54, and the details (but not how and when) appear in his CV on the Queen’s College website. How did this late addition come about?
Webmaster Comment: Johnson Ball acquired two Doctorates, from Nottingham University, between 1962 and 1964
QUEEN’S COLLEGE MEMORIES
Having found the new (and very good) Queen’s College website, and seeing that it asks for memories, I thought I’d give it a try, so:
I was born and bred in Stourbridge, and up to the age of eight I was a pupil at Hill St. Primary School (a.k.a. from its initials - H.S.P.S. - as Hill St. Pig Sty). I can’t remember much about it, (except that the headmaster was cane-happy), but in any case it’s academic because something occurred which was, as they say, life changing. In April ’53 I was seriously hurt in a road accident.
I was in hospital for a week and by the time I was fit to go back to school I was a long way behind the rest of the class. I struggled to keep up, but there was little or no help from the teaching staff, and things were just getting worse.
My parents were very concerned, and at great sacrifice to themselves (no new car, etc.) I was moved to the then quite new Queen’s College, in Red Hill.
The Headmaster (he preferred ‘Principal’) was Dr Johnson Ball, (see note 1), who had a reputation as a strict disciplinarian, but who, fortunately, I just about managed to keep on the right side of, (most of the time!)
Our nickname for him (although never within earshot!) was The Pill, this being slang for a ball, but not of the sports variety
THE SCHOOL (REDHOLME, RED HILL)
The school itself was in a large private house, Redholme, opposite Junction Rd., and it was enlarged still further with the acquisition and conversion of the house next door, which formed part of the same building.
Off hand I can’t remember where the main front door was (no doubt we wouldn’t have been allowed to use it anyway!), but from the street we generally went up some steps and around the left-hand side of the building to reach the back door, or, if it was open, there was a door from the street into the cellar, from which we could go upstairs to the hallway (very useful in wet weather)
Whilst in the cellar, this is perhaps an appropriate place to mention that, so far as I recall, we weren’t allowed to wear our outdoor shoes in school.
If I remember right we each had a peg in one corner of the cellar, and at the same time as hanging up our coats we had to change into pumps (plimsoles) for indoor use.
My recollection of the actual rooms are a bit sketchy. From the back door we went straight into a hallway, and immediately on the left were the stairs leading down to the aforementioned cellar.Next on the left a flight of stairs went back on itself to the upstairs rooms. At the bottom of these stairs a door on the left went into the dining room (or refectory as J.B. insisted), at the rear of which was the kitchen. All of this must originally have been the servant’s quarters, for at the far end of the hallway there was a door to the right which led into a different world. Through this doorway, and you immediately came into a big hall, like a small Stately Home, with a massive and elaborate wooden staircase on which the stairs went part way up, turned left and up some more, then left again and up some more onto a fairly spacious landing. As I recall there were some large pictures lining the staircase walls, but I can’t really remember what they were. There were two large classrooms adjacent to the bottom of the stairs, both of which looked out onto Red Hill. On the opposite side, overlooking the back lawn, was the Music Room, the domain of Mr. Smith, who I suppose was friendly enough, but just didn’t look it. The thing I remember vividly about the music room was a picture above the fireplace. This, (on the QC website as Elizabethan Lady), always used to slightly unnerve us, because wherever we were in the room her eyes were always looking straight at us. Good artwork, but weird!
From the main hall a corridor led off, perhaps to the front door, and on the right of this corridor, next to the Music Room was the Office. When I arrived in ’54 this was the domain of Mrs. Townsend, the Secretary, but after some time she left, I think to have a baby, and I can’t remember who replaced her.
I can’t really remember, but I think there were three large classrooms upstairs, probably to the layout of the downstairs rooms. There may have been more, and, given the size of the house, possibly an attic floor, but I simply can’t remember
This was, of course, the original building, and as we’ve seen, J.B. had extended into next door. To get into this section there was either a door or an archway (can’t remember which) leading from the first hallway, and adjacent to the door into the main hall. This extra house was big in itself, comprising many rooms on different storeys. Although I can’t remember the exact layout I do vividly remember that one of our classrooms was actually a converted attic, at the top of God knows how many flights of stairs, and with just a skylight for illumination.
To the rear of the building there was a fair sized lawn, but as I can never remember going on this I think it may well have been out-of-bounds.
From the building a path led beside the lawn and eventually arrived at what must have been the old stable block, which was now a craft room, complete with a potter’s wheel. I remember no playground in the conventional sense, but at break-time we all went to a dirt-track next to the school. (It was later developed into Ibstock Drive). This was actually a private driveway leading to one or two houses, but it was plenty big enough for our needs, with the strict order that we mustn’t go out onto Red Hill.
My overriding memory of this drive is of two cars which used to be parked there, although not at the same time, one a Triumph Mayflower, quite upmarket for its day and which I think was J.B’s., and the other a Jowett Javelin, a sporty saloon which I’d think unlikely to be his
Because the grounds were not massively big there was no space for games and sport. The boys of course played football, (can’t remember what the girls played), and for this we had to walk just 200 yards or so past the Girls High School (as it was then) to the Junction Rd. Playing Fields, where there was a football pitch of sorts.This we did for perhaps a year , but then switched venues to ‘The Bogs’ in Stanley Rd., which was quite a distance away, so that we had a fair old walk to get there, and another one back when we were already exhausted from playing
Another of our sports activities was swimming (of which more anon), and for this we all trooped off down to Stourbridge Baths, although on occasions when we couldn’t go we went down into the cellar where we were expected to lie lengthwise on a bench and go through the motions of swimming
I seem to recall that the cellar was also used for P.T. (Physical Training) when the weather was bad, although the ceiling was so low that even we, as youngsters, had to mind our heads!
THE SCHOOL (PRESCOTT)
Although nowhere is perfect, I rather liked Redholme, I suppose because after four years I’d got very much used to it.
In 1958 though came a very big change, for the whole school moved lock, stock, and barrel to Prescott House at the top of Chawn Hill. Sorry to say, but I wasn’t at all impressed. By comparison with Redholme it was massive, but a lot of it was out-of-bounds, so there wasn’t really that much difference. For example we had to use the small back stairs, just like Victorian servants, and although there were massive grounds the ‘playground’ was still restricted to the adjacent courtyard. We were allowed into the rather large walled garden and the hot-houses for ‘gardening’ lessons, during which we seemed to spend a lot of time digging. With the benefit of hindsight, and a liberal dose of scepticism, I’ve come to the conclusion that we were simply saving J.B. the cost of a gardener.
I wasn’t at Prescott very long (more anon), and sorry to say but I can’t remember anything good about it.
THE TEACHERS
Although I’ve seen photos, and vaguely remember one or two names, for the most part I can’t remember who taught me what. Apart from J.B., who I can’t remember actually teaching us, the only names I recall from the Redholme group photo are Mr. Smith and Mrs. Whitfield. I must have known the others but I simply can’t remember. In another photo is a Miss Dagley, and again I vaguely remember the name but nothing else. Three not on the photo are Miss Howarth, Mr. Farmer, and Miss Tissington. Miss Howarth (‘Howie’) lived in Hagley Rd., not far from the railway bridge, and was a firm favourite of us all. She treated each of us as a friend, rather than a pupil, and even came to a couple of my birthday parties. If I remember rightly she taught us English, and she had a fund of stories to make her points. Our favourite, emphasising the need for spelling and pronunciation, was about when, during the war, she had been a W.A.A.F. In the middle of a freezing cold winter she was told that she was being posted to Persia, and instructed to draw tropical kit from the stores. When she reported to the transit camp she learned that she was actually going to Pershore! She was a lovely lady and we were all very sorry when she left
Mr. Farmer was better known as Brian Farmer, and played full-back for Birmingham City. I remember him taking us down to the Junction Rd. playing field a few times, but unless you showed talent as a footballer, which I didn’t, he didn’t seem all that bothered and we finished up just doing some cross-country running. Can’t really remember any more about him. Miss Tissington was legendary. A large lady, she seemed to be permanently dressed in an old beige gabardine raincoat, a bit like an oversized Columbo, and used to ride everywhere on an old sit-up-and-beg bicycle. I’m not sure that she was on the staff full-time, but she tried to teach us to swim. Unfortunately, so far as I was concerned it was too late, because some time before this the baths instructor, a Mr. Hare, had damn near drowned me and put me right off swimming. Miss Tissington tried, but it was many years, and long after school-days, before I eventually learnt
Mrs. Whitfield is in the photo. I certainly remember her by name, and I think she took us for some of the lessons, but the photo isn’t how I remember her. Well, it is nearly 60 years!
Mr. Smith, who was the music teacher, I definitely do remember. I was lucky enough to have a reasonable singing voice, and my parents arranged for me to have extra singing lessons from Mr. Smith. He taught me how to control my breathing, how to hit and hold the right notes, and how to project my voice without shouting or straining. The music was, of course, very traditional. Rock and roll hadn’t yet been invented, and would certainly have been disapproved of, pop music was the likes of Alma Cogan, Perry Como, and Donald Peers, and instead I well recall many hours perfecting “Where the bee sucks, there lurk I”, (which I can still sing after all these years!)
J.B. seemed to be particularly keen on the School Choir, and as a prominent member it perhaps got me a few Brownie points. We even went in for some competitions against other schools, and although I can’t remember whether we won, I do recall us getting to some finals at Netherton. I also well recall us giving a carol concert at the Carlisle Hall, and being able to sing treble with no effort (those were the days!), I was chosen to sing the descant counterpoint in some of the carols. After all this time I’ve forgotten most of our repertoire, but I do recall one staple item being the hymn ‘Non Nobis Domine’, a particular favourite of J.B., and another being ‘The Windmill’ (can’t remember a word or a note) because Redholme was on the site of an ancient windmill. Can’t remember much more about music, except that one of the lady teachers was pretty good at playing the zither.
There are three, possibly four other teachers I remember, although for the life of me I can’t remember what they taught, or even much about them. They were Mr. Danreuter, Mr. Dan, Mr. Done (who insisted that it be pronounced to rhyme with cone), and, I think, a Mr. Dunn, (although I might be getting him mixed up with Mr. Dan or Mr Done!)
All of these came to the school at around the time of the transfer to Prescott, and one of them (I honestly can’t remember which, so I’d better not give a name) was responsible for my leaving. More of that anon, though.
THE PUPILS
Of course the most important ingredient of any school is (are?) the pupils, for without them there would be no school. After almost sixty years I simply can’t remember many of the names I’ve seen on the website, and most of the others are vague memories and little more, but I became good friends with a few of them, and still see at least one of them to this day. Let me mention some names I remember. Firstly the boys: David Pritchard; Martin Whittaker (and his younger brother, Julian); David Rhead; Paul Pearson; Andrew Vance; the Woodroffe brothers (twins?), Stuart and Martin; Martin Bolton; Don Taylor; David Pengelly; Brian Perry; Richard Harris; Robert Hatcher; Stephen Brown and Alan Ashford, son of one of the Ashfords of Ashford's Dairy fame [last spoke to him some 20 years or so ago].
There may also have been a Richard Ball, because the nickname ‘Dickie Pill’ rings a bell, and I don’t for one moment think it would have been JB. He was Robin Brettle (or Brettell?) He lived in the big old house in Oldnall Rd., Wollescote, right opposite Careless Green. I think his father was a teacher at Halesowen. And the girls, although I’m sorry to say there are only five I can remember, namely: Elizabeth Clements; Susanne Forbes; Diana Dunn; Gay(e) Vallender and Christine Wareham. Many of them are just names, but some were more than that. David Roland Pritchard was perhaps my best pal at Q.C., and we used to go to each others houses and birthday parties, etc. We kept in touch after we left school, and used to socialise, but then wives and families came along so that we tended to see each other less, and not for far too long now. I’ll have to get in touch with him one day.
Martin Whittaker was another good pal, and again we bumped into each other for some years afterwards. David Rhead was another good pal, and since we live just around the corner from each other we still each other, if only to wave in passing. Likewise I still bump into Paul Pearson now and again.
Andrew Vance’s family used to live next door to us, but they moved away about they time I left Q.C. and I hadn’t seen him since. Then one day a couple of years ago a relative mentioned that Andrew (now Andy) had been visiting the area and had asked after me. We met up, (at the preserved railway in Wales where he’s very involved), and it was nice to have a chat again after all these years. I haven’t seen Richard Harris since I left, but my wife has!
In about 1970 she had to have an emergency op. to remove her appendix. It all went well, and afterwards the surgeon, seeing her name and address, asked if she was related to me. It turned out to be Richard Harris, and she was his first operation!
Not at all sure, but I think Don Taylor may have become an R.A.F. pilot. Elizabeth Clements lived in Hope St., Wordsley. I mention this because Elizabeth was my first girlfriend, (all innocent, we were only about nine!), and when she invited me home to tea after school I didn’t need to be asked twice, and went back with her on the ‘bus. Big mistake! I hadn’t thought to tell my parents, and when I got back all Hell had broken loose and there were search parties out for me! I wasn’t allowed to forget that in a hurry!
ORGANISATION
So far as organisation was concerned, I think J.B. must have been a fan of Tom Brown’s Schooldays, or Billy Bunter(!), because we didn’t simply have class numbers, but fancy names such as The Remove, and Remove II. Also, the school was divided into three ‘houses’ or sections, Bedcote, Hanbury, and Wychbury, each named after a local hill, and encouraged to compete against each other in various spheres.
LESSONS AND DISCIPLINE
These two rather go together, because poor performance in lessons invariably led to retribution. I really can’t remember too much about the lessons, and certainly who taught what, but they must have done a reasonable job, because I don’t think I’m entirely thick, (except around the waistline these days!). We learned French (which few other schools did in those days) and even today I can just about get by, and can sing a passable version of La Marseillaise. Some classes took Latin, but we never did.
J.B. was very strong on penmanship (a.k.a. handwriting), and we spent many hours perfecting a very fine and elaborate style (with fountain pens - ballpoints strictly forbidden) which, I’m sorry to say, didn’t last in the real world of getting on with it quickly. We also had spelling and punctuation drummed into us with regular but unscheduled tests to keep us on our toes, and there were even elocution lessons, which you would never have found in a State school.
Discipline was part and parcel of Q.C. For very serious crimes it was up in front of J.B. for six of the best with the cane. Fortunately I never got to that level. For lesser crimes, and for poor schoolwork, or perhaps missing homework, it was detention, which meant staying in class for anything up to an hour after school, even if your parents were waiting impatiently outside for you. The problem was that detention wasn’t spent doing anything useful, like studying what you’d missed or catching up on homework. You might perhaps be given a hundred lines, ‘I must not etc., etc., etc.’ one hundred times, but more often you just had to sit there, and an hour just sitting there seems like ten. Believe me I know, many many times over!
AND THEN IT ALL WENT SOUR
At Redholme I’d done quite well and been quite happy, but as already mentioned I wasn’t all that keen on Prescott. This was compounded by the behaviour of one of the teachers. We had it on good authority that he used to get p****d every night then take out his hangover on us the next day. He dished out detentions like confetti, and even the cane, which was supposed to be exclusively the decision of J.B. He seemed to take a special dislike to me, and whilst I didn’t actually get the cane I seemed to be in detention most days. I now realise that this teacher was a totally sadistic b*****d, who should never have been allowed within a hundred miles of a school, but of course I was then just a pupil. I became most unhappy, and started to find excuses not to go. When my parents found out what was happening and complained to J.B. he seemed more interested in his new empire and its artworks, and eventually my parents decided that I’d move. They wrote to tell J.B. and that certainly shook him, especially as some other long-time pupils were also taken out. He even paid a personal visit to our house to try to get my parents to reconsider, but the die had been cast and in January 1959 I bade farewell to Queen’s College and started at Elmfield School, which I very much enjoyed.
EPILOGUES
THE FIRST - DO YOU EVER GET THE FEELING YOU’VE BEEN SOMEWHERE BEFORE
Queen’s College wasn’t to be my last visit to Redholme - far from it. Elmfield had many boarders, and most of these were accommodated in two hostels. One of the teachers, Mr. (David) Chopping, ran one of the hostels, and finding that his house in South Rd. was getting too small, he bought Redholme.. Since I was friends with a couple of his children I visited there often, and since I knew it like the back of my hand I was able to act as a bit of a guide, even to showing them a few hideyholes, etc. Happy days are here again!
THE SECOND AND FINAL
In 1985, almost thirty years after I’d left, I read that Dr. Johnson Ball had died. Out of respect I attended his funeral, at Clent church, which was a fairly modest affair. To the best of my knowledge I was the only ex Queen’s College pupil there.
Looking back, I think that Queen’s College was generally a force for good in my life, and certainly drummed ‘the 3 r’s’ into me, not to mention what I hope was a bit of character building It was a pity it all ended a bit sourly, but that was down to one bad individual, and I prefer to concentrate on all the good memories.
John Stephens
14.5.12
Note 1
JOHNSON BALL
Dr. Johnson Ball founded Queen’s College in 1953. He was undoubtedly a brilliant academic, with a background in engineering, and until 1952 Mr. Johnson Ball had been Principal of Halesowen Technical College. Then, however, he had been dismissed by the Governors in very controversial circumstances. In fact such was the controversy that there was a 500 strong public meeting, a 14,000 strong petition demanding his re-instatement, and even a debate in Parliament (Hansard, 1 August 1952). One of the aggravating factors was that the decision had been taken in secret, and the reasons for it were not given. Nobody doubted his integrity or his academic prowess, but it seems to have been common knowledge that there were three main reasons for the dismissal:
1. Although once cordial, his relations with the Governors had completely broken down over a number of things. He had been very outspoken about them, and they had reached the end of their tether.
2. As he got older he seemed to get more obsessive and complaints were received from parents that he was much too fond of dishing out the cane for trivial reasons, with one boy even getting it for not attending prayers.
3. Perhaps most notorious was the ‘Forever Amber’ affair. ‘Forever Amber’ was a novel, rather along the lines of Moll Flanders or Tom Jones, but a bit stronger. Nowadays it would barely raise an eyebrow, but in those days it was considered to be the work of the Devil, and Johnson Ball would not tolerate anything of that sort. When he caught one of the girl pupils not only reading it, but copying extracts for her friends to read, He immediately expelled her, which soon made the daily papers and brought yet more complaints for the Governors to deal with.
It appears from the Hansard debate that things had turned very bitter indeed, and there is reference to him losing his pension, and for it being impossible for him to find another appointment with a dismissal on his record. Quite how things were resolved is a mystery, for there is no trace of a follow-up report. What is certain however, is that whether settled amicably or not, he never went back to Halesowen, and just twelve months later he started Queen’s College. Another mystery is that of his Doctorate. Throughout the Hansard report he is referred to as Mr. Johnson Ball, and the Prospectus for the opening of Queen’s College makes no mention of a Doctorate. He was however, Dr. Ball when I started in’54, and the details (but not how and when) appear in his CV on the Queen’s College website. How did this late addition come about?
Webmaster Comment: Johnson Ball acquired two Doctorates, from Nottingham University, between 1962 and 1964