A long long time ago I went to Saul School and what I remember:
There were two schools in Saul, the Church School next to the Church and the National School which was half way up the Black Road towards Framilode. I have never understood how the intake was arranged and two theories are made. If you lived North of the Cross you went to the National School which included all of Framilode. If you lived South of the Cross then you went to the Church School. Another version is if you were God Fearing of course you went to the Church School whereas those Heathens went to the National School. By this time Framilode School had long since closed. The National School had only two teachers, Mr. Wade as Headmaster and my Mother, Norah Ayland as primary teacher. She must have made some impression because some fifty years later some of her pupils now the local hard men still said “Hello Miss”.
Thinking it was not a good idea to be in the same school as my Mother I was sent to the Church School a scheme which was to backfire two years later.
I enjoyed every minute at Saul School with Sarah Griffiths as the Juniors teacher, Mrs Wathen at the middle school and Mr Thomas (the first) as Headmaster. At this time if you failed to get to Grammar School then you stayed at the village school until you were old enough to become employed. This meant there was possibly ten years age gap between the oldest and youngest pupils. There were two lovely dinner ladies Mrs Keeble and Mrs Hillman and free school meals were provided delivered in heated containers from the cooking kitchens in Frampton by Mr Oliver Silvey in his County Council signed Austin Van. A third of a pint of milk was mandatory and first supplied by Freddie Gardner at Fretherne. A cardboard disc sealed the top which you pierced with a straw and you did NOT blow and make bubbles. Even just post war the building was tired and life expired. Bomb blast tape still graced the windows, lighting was poor and heating was by a tortoise coke stove in each classroom which glowed red and gave off awful fumes. Boys would spit on them and listen for the Hiss. High brick built Toilets with earth closets were down at the far end of the playground, an open unroofed building with high dividing walls. The challenge for the boys was to reach the top of the wall or beyond whilst standing at the urinal… “Yes I could!”
The syllabus was very basic to teach you to read and do basic arithmetic, to make things out of paper and card, to listen to stories about epic adventures and to go to church and hear bible stories. In those days the Vicar had considerable input to the workings of the School. Once a term an important day would be announced and for an hour in the afternoon Lady Darell would visit, the girls would courtesy and the boys would continue to pick a hole in the desk top or pencil in their initials on the back of the seat in front. The lady was old, older than Granny Ayland and I have images of a fur stole probably made from the rarest of exotic wild animals but most importantly she was important.
Games were encouraged as part of your development but always the girls led. Hopscotch squares were laid out in the playground and the girls always won. Rounders were played and the girls always won but at Conkers they were rubbish and that was totally male dominated. I had a fiver (five games won) but cried when it got beaten. Meat skewers were prized and shared to drill the hole in the chestnut for the string without doing the same to the palm of your hand. Once a year came the School photographer and I have previously published the results on this forum. Dearest Mrs Keeble would plait the girls hair again and with the same comb straighten everyones hair ready for the photograph. Before Christmas was the school play which was to incorporate every pupil even if they were just shepherds standing silently at the back with a crooked stick and a tea towel on their head for a keffiyeh. Another pastime practiced only by the girls was cotton reel knitting. Using a cotton reel with four nails in it and with a crochet hook they would knit miles of multi coloured useless woolen streamers.
Finally every few months came the Nit Nurse, a lady in full uniform and take everyone , one at a time, out into the cloakroom for this very personal inspection. I cannot recall anyone being found with head lice but what an embarrassment if you did!
The following year the National School closed and My mother was transferred to the Church School. This is when rule one came back into play and it was not a good idea to be in the same school together so I was sent off to the King’s School in Gloucester …..but that is another story.