Roads
Before the First World War all the ‘roads’ were very rough. Ruts and puddles were filled in with flints rolled in by the steamroller, if one was available.
If not, then they were gradually crushed in by the steel rimmed wheels of farm wagons and carts. Lanes and side roads were little more than tracks, deeply rutted by cartwheels.
Village women went stone picking in the fields and were paid so much a bucketful by farmers, who sold them to the district council for road mending.
Flint knappers, with their rounded hammers were expert at breaking them into the right size. Flints were used in house building.
The Church vestry when built, was faced with flints to match the rest of the building.
Pocketknives had an instrument attached for removing stones from horse’s hooves. Those who used horses never went out without it.
There was no ‘left or right’ to keep to – you used the track made by other vehicles. Meeting another head on meant drawing into the hedge if possible, or back your horse and cart back to the nearest gateway.
The language was! – If neither would give way.
Cycle tyres frequently gashed by flints – you always carried a repair kit. Very few cars came through the village; no one here owned one until around 1914. A Studebaker, with big brass lamps and a high seat for the driver.
A little later on the Parson bought a Trojan car with solid rubber tyres. Before, all trips were made by horse and cart. A carriers van used to take two hours to travel five miles to town, because the owner of the van stopped at nearly every house to leave or collect parcels and have a chat. Men had to get out and walk up the hills (and we have many!).
A waggonette seated seven as well as the driver, and passengers were equipped with waterproof sheets and rugs for the journey. Bread, meat, and groceries were delivered by cart and horse. In winter they carried candle lamps, which only showed how dark it was.
People walking in the dark carried candle lanterns with them. There were no streetlights and few houses. Outlines of familiar barns, trees, poles, etc. kept one from getting lost in the dark.
Footpaths were used much more than today, because they saved not only distance but time. It was easy to stray in the dark especially in the fog, stumbling around until a familiar object was felt, even a patch of broad leafed garlic proved to be a guide to reaching home.
School
The Headmaster played a more important part in village life a century ago.
Children now, only receive part of their education in their village now, then schooldays were completed in their village. Now, parents themselves are better educated than they were then.
Before the First World War some villagers were unable to read or write, and many of them would bring their old age pension papers, wills, insurance claims, hedging and thatching accounts, friendly society contributions, pig club money to the headmaster to explain and check for them. He was often secretary or treasurer – or both – to cricket and football clubs as well as, working men’s club, the slate club, the Oddfellows, possibly church warden, parish councillor, even if able – the church organist!
Today, many residents tend to use their village as a dormitory, and travel outside for their daily job.
Today improved buildings, lighting, heating, water, sanitation, textbooks, transport, school meals, medical and dental treatment have all contributed to the health of village children.
In the 1900’s some children living in outlying farms and cottages had to walk over two miles along muddy tracks and lanes in all weathers to get to school.
Facilities for drying clothes were non-existent. A cupboard full of slippers for those whose boots were wet through. The smell of steaming garments; some of them ‘sewn on for winter’ was an integral part of the classroom smell on rainy days!
On dark winter days the school closed at 3.30pm as it was not possible to see to read and write, and children had a chance to get home before dark.
The oil lamps, which hung suspended by chains, were rarely lit unless there was a party in school in the evening.
The classrooms were unevenly lit by coke stores with iron guards around them.
At lunchtime the children clustered around them for warmth and ate doorstep sandwiches with home cured bacon.
When the Squire had a pheasant shoot or partridge drive there were irregular absences among the boys who took the day off to go beating.
More than once the school attendance officer would ride round on his bicycle to round up boys misemployed in this way, and send them back to school.
There were always seasonal absences for haymaking, harvesting, and potato picking.
There were only two classrooms in the infant’s room, children were sometimes admitted at the age of three. In a larger room the Headmaster and his assistant taught standards 1,2 3,4 5 & 6, about sixty children,
(All from the village, and not as now) side by side with no partition or curtain to separate them. It must have composed considerable strain and technique on the teachers.
As for the children, if they didn’t like their lesson, they’d listen to another!
The playgrounds were small squares of dirt and flints surrounded by iron railings, and contained corrugated iron lavatories – of which the less said the better! Ball games would have meant broken windows. Marbles, chase games, skipping, hopscotch, cut our hands and knees on the flints and got dirty until the bell called us in.
The Inspector sent children and staff into a frenzy of activity, one headmaster sent the boys out to turn the signposts around which meant that particular inspector failed to reach the school at all! |