It seems to have been a small,speculative piecemeal develop-ment, some cottages beingsemi-detached (especially inSussex Road) and some terraced(as in Surrey and Kent Roads).

Odd bits of land were left unde-veloped and became gardenground (in Surrey Road andSussex Roads), site for a chapel(on the corner of North andSussex Roads) and the LectureHall (on the east side of SussexRoad). Both buildings remain.

A lifetime inWest Wickham

The cottages off the High Streetmy first home

This is mainly a collection ofmemories of West Wickhambetween 1927 and 1939 which wasits period of massive transforma-tion from isolated village to Londonsuburb.

What it is NOT is a “fings ain’twhat they used to be”. There is, Ifeel, no room for nostalgia. Theworld has changed, in someinstances for better in others forworse; there’s no going back.

Until about 1880 West Wickhamwas an isolated village. Its road tothe west led to the market town ofCroydon, though that being in adifferent county was looked on asthough it was a different world.

The roads to the north led toBeckenham and Bromley, thoughonly someone who was lost wouldhave travelled via West Wickhamto get there from Croydon.

The road to the south led tonowhere in particular.

I

In the 1880s things had begun tostir. In 1871 the population was884; in 1881 963 (though therewere only 3 more occupied housesin the latter year than in theearlier one). But ten years later,in 1891, the population hadincreased by 31% over thedecade. From 963 to 1,262 (andwith an increased houseoccupancy of 41%). This expan-sion was linked to the opening ofthe railway on Whit Monday 1890.

By then, the area was attractingwell-to-do in-comers, many flee-ing the deteriorating areas ofinner South London, commuting tobusiness in the City, and buyingnew houses in such streets asGrosvenor Road and BeckenhamRoad.

These new residents requiredservices and servants (the houseswere not big enough to accommo-date more than one or two live-inservants) and, for others inemployment , a block of cottageswas built, in three parallelstreets, Surrey, Sussex and KentRoads, linked at their northernend by the appropriately namedNorth Road and, at the southernend, by the High Street.

Kent Road late 19th century

Lecture Hall

This mish-mash of properties andundeveloped land suggests anumber of under-capitalisedbuilders buying a small numberof plots.

Killick’s, builders and undertakers,took a significant frontage on theHigh Street, between Sussex andKent Roads, and had a timber yardmidway along Kent Road. But Idon’t know whether they wereinvolved in the rear land develop-ment.

The Kent Road houses were thepoorest and the cheapest, beingover-shadowed by the vast stablesof Wickham Hall opposite.

The cottages in all four roads seemto have been well built and survivetoday.

It was to this part of the HighStreet, specifically between Surreyand Sussex Road, next door to aforge that was alongside SussexRoad (that building remains), thatmy maternal grandfather came in1887. He began with half a shop(now part of no.116).

He was William Williams a journey-man bootmaker from Beckenhamand with roots in the BlackCountry and, earlier, Radnorshire.He had a wife (who came from asubstantial bootmaking family inEpsom) and there were two youngchildren.

At first they lived in Sussex Road,but he was an astute, if mean andauthoritarian, man and, as his rep-utation as a craftsman grew, hisbusiness prospered. He took overthe other half of the shop (andbegan to retail) and moved hisfamily into the quite spaciousliving quarters above and behindthe shop and it remained in theirhands until it closed in the 1950’s.

In North Road, Stollworthy, achimney sweep, Wilkins, agardener and Pennell. whoworked for Killick’s thebuilders.

In Sussex Road, Stockbridge, agrocer’s son and Watts, anoth-er Killick’s man; and in KentRoad, Saxton, a gardener andmembers of the Kilby andFreeman families who workedfor Killick’s and were the main-stay of West Wickham Cricketand football Clubs.

Our cottage was a 2-up,2-downer, with the front doorat the side (since moved to thefront) with the staircase divid-ing front from back.

Downstairs, the front room was“the best room” and was onlyused on special occasions.Apart from all else, therewould be the extra chore oflaying, lighting and cleaningout the fireplace for minimalevening use. The bedroomshad tiny fireplaces but thesewere only used in sickness.

The downstairs back room wasa live-in kitchen with kitchenrange for cooking; andattached was a scullery, with acold water sink and a copperfor washing. There was amangle and a zinc bath hung onthe outside wall. The WC wasattached but was reached fromoutside. The cottages in NorthRoad had quite long gardenswhere potatoes and vegetableswere grown and as most of theinhabitants had rural back-grounds many of them also ranallotments either on the near-by garden ground or in HawesLane.

Piped water had been laid on inWest Wickham between 1877and 1884 – doubtless the causeand result of the housing de-velopments). Our two roomsdownstairs were lit by gas(electricity had come to WestWickham in 1914 but installa-tion was expensive) andupstairs one used candles.

The younger daughter,Daisy Williams, married CharlesCox, my father, in 1920. He’dbeen an orphan since the age offive at the North East SurreyIndustrial School at Anerley, anoutlier of Battersea Workhouse,and then an apprentice to mygrandfather. But when hecompleted his 7-year apprentice-ship in 1911, and was offered ajourneyman’s position at what heconsidered a derisory wage, hewalked to Bromley South station,took a train to Chatham andsigned up for the Navy for 22years.

He kept in touch with the familyand, in 1920, when he hadbecome a Stoker Petty Officer.He married his former boss’syounger daughter, Daisy. I wasborn four years later.

My grandparents wanted a son –no doubt to help with thebusiness – but although they hadtwo daughters (Emily and Daisy)who lived into their seventies,four boys died in infancy. Theirnames and dates of birth anddeath are inscribed in the familyBible, but the girls don’t get amention.

During World War I, my grand-mother died of influenza and mygrandfather had a stroke whichparalysed his arms, so the elderdaughter, who had married anEpsom bootmaker cousin, WillBaker, came back to WestWickham. They took over thebusiness.

My parents lived in one of thesemi-detached cottages – IvyCottage (later no.6) – in NorthRoad. This was my first home.

All four of the roads, Surrey,Sussex, Kent and North – wereoccupied by working-classpeople, many of whom, one wayor another, serviced the biggerhouses. In Surrey Road, Pepper,a gardener; Perry, a gas lighter,Kettle, a postman.

The Stables Wickham Hall

The Surrey Road frontage com-prised a pond, overshadowed byhuge elm trees, on the HighStreet corner and then an irongate leading into a meadow(which would later be developedas shops facing the Wheatsheaf)and then, beyond the gate, thenew houses.

The two terraces, numbered1 ,3,5,7,9 and 11,12A,15,17 and19, were all, with the exceptionof No.9 bought by their occupants–presumably on mortgage – No.9being rented and so having asuccession of tenants. 12A was sonumbered (in glass over the frontdoor) presumably because it wasthought a house numbered 13would never sell.

The houses were very well builtand they encapsulate the transi-tion from Victorian village tomodern suburbia. A transition:

(1) from working-class cottages,as on the opposite side of SurreyRoad, with their outside loos, nobathroom, no electricity, gas butonly on the ground floor,combined fireplace and oven, andsash windows; to

(2) modern houses with theirindoor WC in or alongside a bath-room with hot water tank heatedby a coke boiler, electric light inevery room (though with few, ifany, sockets because electricappliances were rare or hadn’tbeen invented), a larder, a kitch-enette but no scullery, 2 ½ bed-rooms, a loft for storage and for acold water tank, casement win-dows, French windows leadingonto the garden, brick-built coaland coke bunkers, sufficient spacein one living room for dining tableand chairs and a sideboard,

and even a radiogram, and, inanother living room, space forsettee, armchairs, china cabinetsand even a piano, huge floor-to-ceiling built-in kitchen dresserand space in the hall for a pram.

In more expensive houses, thesemodern features were enhanced,eg separation of WC and bath-room, and even a garage or atleast a space for a future garage.

I don’t know who built the SurreyRoad houses but they are exactlyreplicated on the east side ofShirley Park Road, oppositeShirley Parish Church.

So, the new houses were occupiedby skilled workers or by whatwere seen as lower middle-classpeople; those with a stableincome who could afford andqualify for a mortgage.

Thus, No.1 was occupied byMiss Bishop and her mother. Shewas the local postmistress, whoseoffice was in what later becamethe Kismet Cafe is now an Indianrestaurant, on the corner ofSurrey Road and the High Street.

I recall the Adams sisters, in KentRoad, being late for school(Hawes Down Junior) one daybecause their candle had set thebedroom curtains on fire.

My Second Home

By 1930, my father was earning agood wage as a Chief PettyOfficer, he was doubtless lookingforward to his retirement in 1933and my younger brother was due,so – rather than moving intolarger rented accommodation – myparents decided to buy one of thenew houses being erected in afield on the west side of SurreyRoad. That was to be my secondhome in West Wickham.

So, in 1930, when I was six, wemoved into our new house. It wasone of nine, in two terraces, on afield adjacent to the erroneously-named and soon-to-be demolishedManor House which stood withinthe triangle now formed by the-High Street, Manor Park Road andManor Park Close.

Manor House

The tenant of the Manor House,an engineer named George Bird,an orchid grower and butterflycollector (he donated thecollection to his old school,Marlborough) had lost two of histhree sons in World War I.

When George died in 1927 theland came on to the market, theestate was broken up and the late18th century house was demolished(I recall playing in what remainedof the cellars).

The Wheatsheaf

Surrey Road

Looking up the High Street on the left is the post Officenow the Dwana restaurant. The next corner is Killicks

No.3 was occupied by Sid Davis, abus driver with the London GeneralOmnibus Company, who occasionallyhad spats with his Geordie wife dur-ing which we could hear, throughthe party wall, the crash of throwncrockery.

No.5 was my parents’ – myfather by this time being a ChiefPetty Officer.

No.7 was occupied by DickieGoldsmith, a WH Smith’s book-shop manager and an excellentsemi-fast bowler who openedfor the Cricket Club second XI.

No.11 was occupied byMcCleery, a commercialtraveller and No.12A by Gray,Sid Davis’s bus conductor who,according to anecdote, once hadhis head butted against his gasstove by the rather short-tem-pered Sid.

No.15 by Sparrow, connectedwith a very long-establishedfirm of coach builders withpremises alongside the Wheat-sheaf yard (where Sainsbury’sis now); and No.17 by Balls,a self-employed haulagecontractor.

The significance of all this isthat the urban development ofWest Wickham was not onlybringing new houses and streetsbut also new opportunities foremployment; employment as busdrivers and conductors, book-shop managers and commercialtravellers.

By 1930 the redevelopment ofWest Wickham, Arcadia Over-whelmed, was in full flow.

Private and Primary Schools

As soon as the first Suburbanitesarrived in West Wickham, therewas a demand for private schoolsespecially as the worn out villageschool (sited where WickhamCourt Road, then called SchoolRoad, joined Corkscrew Hill) wasquite incapable of coping witheven a small increase in numbers.

The situation was made worse bythe slowness with which KentCounty Council, the responsibleeducation authority, reacted tothe sudden wave of Suburbanitechildren whose parents wereexpecting, and indeed demanding,a vastly better education for theirchildren than the old villageschool could possibly provide.

One or two of the new privateschools were very good, especiallySt David’s, on the West Wickham-Beckenham border – under theleadership of Dr Schove.But some were held in decayed ordecaying buildings – eg WickhamCollege (in Ravenswood, StationRoad) and Greenhayes (whichtook over the old village schoolbuilding).

Others were held in privatehouses –eg (I think) InglesideCollege in the Springfield area(mostly for girls), which closed in1958 after about 30 years.

The smaller private schools tend-ed to be kept by spinsters and hadno facilities for drama, games orphysical training. At one of theseschools in the Pickhurst area, afriend of mine was punished forcrying when his cat had just died.

Many of them only lasted a fewyears and with the building ofHawes Down and WickhamCommon Infant and JuniorSchools, many perceptive parentstransferred their children thereat age 8, 9 or 10, as theseschools were seen to be mosteffective in preparing pupils foradmission to the local girls andboys grammar schools atBeckenham and Bromley.

The better and bigger privateschools prepared pupils foradmission to such placesas Dulwich, Whitgift,St Dunstan’s and Croydon HighSchool for Girls and so keptpupils to the age of 13.

At about the age of 4½, I wassent to St Mawes PreparatorySchool at number 6 WickhamCourt Road (it was demolished in1987 and there are now flats onthe site).

There were two classes; boysonly. The younger boys, aged upto about eight, were taught by avery competent, no-nonsense-but- patient, big-breastedMiss Stuart. I still remember thislast feature because they used torest on my shoulder when sheleant over me to examine mywork.

This class, of perhaps twelveboys, was held in what wouldnormally have been the lounge ofthe house, a large room withFrench windows leading out ontoa garden. She kept us all verybusy – the sign of a good teacher.The only significant punishmentthat she meted out was to makeone stand in the corner for ashort while.

The older boys, were taught bythe Proprietor, a Mr Cook, ashort, oldish man with a prolificmoustache who taught Mathswell. This class was held in thegarage adjoining the house,furnished with old-fashionedsecond-hand benches (probablyfrom the closed village school atthe other end of the road).

High Street

The old school, Corkscrew Hill

I recall that he provided black,heavy rulers shaped like smallrolling pins which were difficultto control.

I was very wary of Mr Cookbecause occasionally he wouldcall out a boy, put the victimover his knees, pull up his shorttrousers and cane him lightly onthe back of his thighs. Eventhough I was only eight, I thoughtthis very weird.

The school was popular andhighly-regarded by parents but ithad severe limitations. Forinstance, the only playground wasthe garden and so ball gameswere forbidden. There was aswing and a slide and a see-saw,but no other apparatus. Twoyouthful entrepreneurs wereallowed to set up a stall whereone could borrow comics andmagazines, probably on a weeklybasis (a farthing for a comic anda penny for a “tuppeny blood”,like Rover). This was thenearest the school got to alibrary.

The absence of facilities forgames was overcome in an oddway.

On fine days, the entire schoolwould line up in twos and walk,crocodile-fashion, alwaysfollowing the same route: Cork-screw Hill -Addington Road -Tiepigs Lane to just before therailway bridge, along the foot-path parallel with the railwayline into Hawes Lane, StationRoad and back to school.Mr Cook, wearing his trilby hat,led the way and Miss Stuart actedas ‘tail-end-Charlie’. If, in thecourse of this perambulation,Mr.Cook spotted a parent hewould raise his hat and, as wepassed the good lady, we had todo the same.

This was an excellent free adver-tisement for the school, but Isuspect that many a parent – see-ing us coming – would hide out ofsight to avoid the embarrassmentof all these well-scrubbed littleboys paying obeisance.

I never saw another schoolfollowing this example; and Ihate to think what might havehappened had we met anotherschool party moving along therailway footpath in the oppositedirection to us.

I have no recollection of outingsor other extra-mural activities,but we must have been toCroydon (or maybe London) onthe 9th July 1930. I can date thisexactly because, that afternoon,we returned from Croydon on anopen-topped London Generalomnibus and, at the end ofMonks Orchard Road, I saw flagsdraped from the trees.

When I got home, my motherexplained that Queen Mary hadbeen to the new BethlemHospital to open it officially.I’m slightly surprised that wedidn’t have to line up and doffour caps as she passed.

I still have a photograph showing23 sullen-looking little boys andone much bigger one – caps andties awry and so rather reminis-cent of the Just William gang,with Miss Stuart kneeling at theend of the row and Mr Cook atthe back – in trademark trilby.Wickham House is in the back-ground.

I was only in Mr Cook’s class fromSeptember 1931 until Easter 1932when my parents decided towithdraw me and send me toHawes Down Junior School –either because they perceivedthat St Mawes could offer me nomore or because my father wasdue to retire, shortly, from theNavy – or maybe both.

So, I moved from this cosy littlescene to the big wide world – toHawes Down Junior School, inHawes Lane.

I was at Hawes Down JuniorSchool from Easter 1932 untilJuly 1935 when I obtained ascholarship to Beckenham andPenge County Grammar Schoolfor Boys (now Langley Park).

Hawes Down Junior School wasa very different environmentfrom the tiny St Mawes Prepar-atory, but it was a transitionfrom little private school to bigJunior school that many of mycontemporaries, both boys andgirls, were making.

Very soon after I joined theschool I encountered bereave-ment for the first time. One ofmy best friends was JohnAnderson, son of the Managerof the Midland Bank in the HighStreet. Like me, he’d moved toHawes Down from St Mawes,but shortly afterwards he died.

At the time a solemn Headmas-ter used his death to warn usagainst self-medication (John,he said, had lanced a boil witha pin). But the subsequentinquest showed that he died ofseptic meningitis. A small spoton his nose had been lanced,not by John but by a Dr Pantonwho had recently opened apractice in Pickhurst Rise. WhenJohn’s eyes became swollen,his father took him toSt Bartholomew’s Hospitalwhere erysipelas wasdiagnosed. But a few days laterJohn died of a particularly formvirulent form of meningitus.

Official opening of the Bethlem byQueen Mary 1930

Beckenham and Penge County GrammarSchool c.1940

The Coroner ruled that Dr Panton“had done nothing amiss”, deathhad been due to “very bad luck”and, said the Coroner, “It wouldnot be fair if this misfortunebecame the subject of gossip atWest Wickham”. The last com-ment is a reminder that WestWickham was still seen by someas a village community.

But not for much longer. Andwhat was happening at HawesDown Junior School is anothersplendid example of ArcadiaOverwhelmed though in thiscase the change was welcomedunanimously.

Until April 1930, the only Stateschool in West Wickham was theold National school at top ofSchool Road.

For the past 37 years, untilChristmas 1921, its long-servingMistress had been Fanny Plant,assisted by her husband Jimmy.They both now retired.

Fanny had seen off a long succes-sion of female assistant teachersand her Log Book shows that theyhad found her difficult to workwith.

Her Log Book shows that they hadfound her difficult to work withor, as Joyce Walker, one of WestWickham’s local historians oncesaid to me “she wasn’t very nice”.At least one Assistant is recordedas finding the village far tooisolated for her to think of stay-ing the winter there.

Fortunately, when the Plants hadretired at Christmas 1921, KentCounty Council appointed abrilliant young man, Louis Alen.

He might well have been attract-ed by the surprisingly large andpleasant-looking school house onthe east side of the school build-ing (he was, I think, newly mar-ried).

He might well have seen this as astep up to bigger things; but hecouldn’t possibly have foreseenthat within a decade he would beadmitting hundreds of incomingchildren to his school.

It was an excellent appointmentand very soon he was receivingpraise from His Majesty’sinspectors.

At the end of his first four yearsthe numbers on roll had fallen toan all-time low of 86, not becauseof Louis Alen but because of adecline in the population of thevillage. Agriculture was in a badway, the few big houses could nolonger afford so many staff, andyounger people with childrenwere being driven to seek employ-ment elsewhere.

But what is significant about thatnumber of 86 is - and this is agreat tribute to Alen- attendance,week after week, was almost100%. In one week, in September1928, the number on roll hadincreased to 92 but the onlyabsentees were four children whowere on holiday with theirparents.

House building was under way, in1928 and 1929, on the formerGoodhart Langley Estate, in TheAvenue, Langley Way andWickham Chase; a developmentin Southcroft Avenue had spreadto Boleyn Gardens, Sherwood Wayand The Grove and, elsewhere;and Ravenswood Crescent andManor Road were beingdeveloped.

21st April 1884 Twenty-five-year-old Mrs.Fanny Plant, mother of a baby son, wasappointed Head of the National School,aided by her husband Henry as AssistantTeacher. George Thrower, a school boy iscaned for lateness and disobedience. Hismother later complained to Mr.Plant.

Joyce Walker

Wickham Chase early 1930s

National School pupils

The Grove

As I’ve said, the roll in September1928, was 92; the following April114 and a year later 180.

Alen was introducing a new mod-ern curriculum and school dinnerswere being provided, but not aninch of space had been, or couldbe, added to this old building,though there were twice as manychildren as there had beeneighteen months before.

It was at this point that KentCounty Council provided, in 1930,a new school in Hawes Lane andthe village school closed.

This was intended to be forInfants and Juniors. lt wasconstructed at the back of thesite, close to the railway line, butthe demand on places was becom-ing so great that it was decidedbefore it opened to use it forInfants only, and to erect atemporary wooden building for theJuniors, nearer the road. Thisbecame Hawes Down Junior Schoolfor 8s to 11s but initially it housed11s to 14s as well.

Although intended to betemporary it was in use for thenext 40 or so years and it’s signifi-cant that it opened on 30 June –numbers were such that it wasimpossible to wait until the startoff the new School year.

Statistics can be boring, but tounderstand the incredible speedwith which West Wickham wasgrowing and the incapacity ofKent Education Committee, basedin far-away Maidstone, to come togrips with the situation, it isnecessary to consider somefigures.

In case my criticism of KentCounty Council Education Depart-ment may appear to be unfair, Iwould point out, from my ownexperience as the AssistantDirector (Building and Develop-ment) for the Borough of Croydonin the 1970’s, when we werebuilding six new schools at any onetime, that there is invariablydelay between the planning stageof a new housing estate and thearrival on site of the builders.

From the plans it is possible tocalculate the number ofchildren who are likely to be inneed of school places (based, atits simplest, on the number ofbedrooms).

Houses take several months tobuild and to be occupied; theseelements give adequate time forthe construction of additionalon-site school extensions – notonly classrooms, but also otherfacilities such as lavatories.

By this time, 1930, building wasgoing on in: Croft Avenue, AshGrove and Oak Grove, immedi-ately behind the Station Roadshops; Ravenswood Avenue hadbeen driven through the formerRavenswood Estate; the housesof Silver Lane were springing upoff Hawes Lane, close to theschool; and south of the HighStreet there was a large amountof building taking place in Bram-ley Way, Chessington Way,Copse Avenue, Hawkhurst Way,Highfield Way and HighburyClose. Also, cheaper houseswere started on the Coney HallEstate,

And at Cherry Tree Walk but thechildren from there were ac-commodated, in due course, atWickham Common School.

But let’s see, in more detail,what was happening at HawesDown School. It was built toaccommodate 240 pupils of allages.

On 30th June 1930, the day itopened, 194 children turned up.By that September, the monthwhen it was initially planned toopen, that accommodation figureof 240 had been reached, so theo-retically it was full. Attendancewas of the order of 91%.By the following Easter - and sostill in the school’s first year –there were 315 on roll – 75 inexcess of capacity.

When the next School Year com-menced an additional classroomhad been built, giving an extra 30places. This gave an officialcapacity of 270 but on the firstday 369 pupils arrived.

Six months later, in March 1932,that number had grown to 4707At that point in time, KentEducation Committee remindedthe Head that his school was onlyfor 270 pupils (he must haveknown that, surely?). Theybegrudgingly said that the dininghall could be used as classroomsbut this accommodation was“unrecognised”, a curious andunhelpful piece of bureaucratic-speak.

Of the surplus of 200 children,146 were moved ito the dininghall forming, almost certainly,two classes each of 73 pupils.

To relieve the pressure, 38 chil-dren over the age of 11 weretransferred in March 1932 to thenew Marian Vian School at ElmersEnd, but this only reduced thenumber on roll by one, to 469,because of further newcomers.

A year later, in April 1933, theremaining 98 post-11-year-olds atHawes Down were transferred toMarian Vian, creating, one wouldhave thought, chaos on thealready overcrowded buses andtrains between West Wickhamand Elmers End.

Building of Coney Hall Estate

Coney Hall School

The following day, there werestill 405 children on roll, stillwith official accommodation foronly 270; and, on that day, afurther 23 pupils were admittedalthough it wasn’t the start of anew School Year. My “best friend”,Ray Greenwood, and I were amongthose 23 – both of us refugees fromSt Mawes. I was put into a class inthe “unrecognised” canteen; therewere insufficient desks and somechildren had to sit on stools atwoodwork benches, presumablyleft over when the senior pupilshad moved off to Marian Vian.

My teacher for the rest of thatyear was Cyril Wenham. He wasyoung, tall and handsome and asnappy dresser with flaredtrousers. I don’t recollect that hehad any difficulty in coping withthe huge class that he had.

In 1938 he married Edith Kyte whowas on the staff of the InfantsSchool. She was conspicuousbecause she wore heavy make-up,something very unusual in teachersat that time.

Wenham joined the TerritorialArmy, was called up two daysbefore War broke out and sobecame 906427, Gunner WenhamC H of the 387/92 Field Regiment,Royal Artillery. He was, I believe,killed on active service but is notlisted in the Roll of Honour inJoyce Walker’s West Wickham inthe Second World War.

The following School Year, 1933-1934, my teacher was BarbaraNightingale who, unusually for aPrimary School at this time, was agraduate. She was, I recall, veryenthusiastic about the League ofNations.

This was actually the “top” class,ie for 10-11 year-olds, though Iwas only nine. I’m not surewhether that was due to theparticularly high quality ofteaching that I had received atSt Mawes or, more likely, becausethis was the only classroom inwhich there was any space.

My main recollection is that,during Religious Knowledge (orwhatever it was called) we had toplace our hands on our desks,palms downwards, and if one haddirty fingernails Miss Nightingalewould rap one’s knuckles with aruler. I didn’t find her veryendearing and it did nothing toimprove my knowledge or under-standing of the Bible.

One of the members of the class,Joan Linnett, a tall, very sweetgirl, was subsequently killed withher parents and five neighbours,on the night of 10/11 May 1941,when 108-112 Pickhurst Rise werebombed in the last big air raid ofthe Blitz. This was, I think thehighest number of casualties killedin West Wickham by a single bomb.

At the end of that School Year,1933-1934, when most of the othermembers of the class left, Iremained behind for another year,in the “top” class.

But this time the class teacher wasCyril Campbell – a resident ofCroft Avenue and one of the bestteachers I met in my 37 years ineducation. For many years after-wards, if one met someone who’dbeen a pupil at Hawes Down, onewould ask: “Were you inCampbell’s class?”. He was thatmemorable.

He was a “brown man” – darkbrown hair, brown-rimmed glassesand always dressed in the same,slightly bedraggled brown suit. Hestood no nonsense, had a veryshort fuse, an ironic sense ofhunour and - above all - madeevery lesson interesting and clear.

Of course, he had good material towork on. For some inexplicablereason, the girls in the class out-numbered the boys and outshonethem in ability. A few years ago Imade a list of the class members.I recollected fifteen of the girls.Twelve went on to grammarschools, 1 to a private commercialschool and one to a Central School.So only one failed to win somekind of place.

But Campbell’s success wasn’tlimited to bright pupils.In September 1935 when theadjacent Senior School opened (ofwhich more later) he moved acrossto take what is now described asSpecial Needs and was, apparently,brilliantly successful there, too.

It would be tedious to name all theother teachers, but two stand outin my memory – Miss Hampton andMr Linley. The former had joinedthe staff of the old village school.She was unqualified as her parentshad been unable to afford to sendher to Teacher Training College.But she was much liked, was a verysuccessful teacher and may wellhave served the one schoolthroughout her career.

Linley was only at the school for afew years. He lived at 33 BraemarGardens. I recollect the loudvolume of his Yorkshire voice. Inthe Summer, when windows wereopen, he could be heard clearly.He left, in 1939, to become Headof the village school in Stoke StGregory, Somerset and may wellhave been audible in Taunton someseven miles away when he was infull flow.

The League of Nations was foundedon 10th January 1920 as a result ofthe Paris Peace Conference thatended the First World War.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

And so on to the Headmaster,Louis Alen, a man much respectedby staff and parents and treatedwith slight awe by pupils.

Bespectacled, in smart light-greysuit and black shiny shoes, hemoved imperturbably amidst thisever-increasing descent on theschool of new, incoming parents,turning up almost daily andunannounced, with one or two oreven three more pupils for whomhe had to find a space and a deskand a teacher and someequipment. But, not only did hedo all this almost imperceptively,never raising his voice, hardly evercaning, he was also innovative.He started a milk club and 260one-third-of-a-pint bottles wereconsumed on the first day. Thecrates of bottles were delivered toeach classroom by monitors and, inwinter, the bottles were placed onthe radiators to warm them up.

He organised Pet Shows, thoughpersonally I couldn’t see the pointof going to school to look at some-one else’s rabbit. But that wasnot the common view and the firstShow was attended by a number inexcess of West Wickham’s entirepopulation back in 1921.

And, too, Sports Days were organ-ised – the one in June 1931 beingattended by over 1,000 parentsand friends.

Another activity that was wellsupported was violin lessons, heldafter school by a peripateticteacher, a Mrs Cole or Coles. Halfthe fee went to her and the otherhalf towards the ultimate purchaseof the violin.

Although the footpath alongsideCoppin’s was much used by HawesDown children and by adults, Idon’t recall any glass ever beingbroken. But the glasshouses andthe nursery would soon disappearfor already work was commencing(1934) on Rose Walk and WickhamCrescent. I can date this becausethe builder was using trucks onrails to move his materials aboutthe site, and we used to play onthem on the way home from schoolalthough we were never able tounlock them.

I have a photo of the entire school,taken in April 1934. All are in it:Wenham, Nightingale, Campbell,Hampton Miss Browning and MissGray and, of course, Louis Alen.

I remember one other event atHawes Down whilst I was there;it’s a splendid example of masshysteria.

The playing field was vast and insummer we were allowed to roamover it at will. Immediately to thesouth was a large late-Victorian orEdwardian house named OakLodge. One first floor room had abalcony facing the school.

This last activity gave me anopportunity to walk home withSylvia Saint who lived in HawkhurstWay (she had lovely eyes) withoutmockery from my classmates. Italso brought into my non-musicalfamily, interest and performanceskills (as amateurs) that continuesthrough to my great–grandchildren.“From little seeds.....”

That journey, incidentally,whether with or without SylviaSaint was along a footpath fromHawes Lane which passed alongsidethe glasshouses of Coppin’s nursery(about where the fire station wassoon to be built) and then along adriveway that led from the HighStreet/Station Road junction toCoppin’s house, which frontedHawes Lane near the junction withLinks Road.

On reaching Station Road, onewould stop at the ancient YewTree Cottage (about where theLibrary is) which contained a tinyshop run by Frank Furber (a verytall man in a very low-beamedbuilding) for a sherbet fountain orbulls’ eyes.

One preferred this sweet shop tothe one run by Yates (in the HighStreet, facing The Grove) becausethe latter had such a high counterthat one couldn’t see what was onoffer.

1900s rear of Oak Lodge

One morning, before playtime,rumour rapidly spread that aChinaman was holding a boy (ormaybe a girl) prisoner behind thebalcony window – this was in thedays of films which showed inscru-table Chinamen as ominous opiumsmokers linked with the whiteslave trade – a “Chinaman”incidentally was also used to referin cricket to a ball that brokeunexpectedly the wrong way.

At playtime, a few of us went upto the boundary fence and staredat the house until the whistlewent for us to go back inside.We had seen nothing. At lunch-time, a much bigger crowd assem-bled and it was no longer a childand a Chinaman, but a number ofchildren and an unspecifiednumber of Chinamen.

The school was in ferment and, assoon as we were dismissed for theday a lot of us rushed up HawesLane to the drive of Oak Lodge.

From the gates, the house waslargely obscured by laurel bushesand some of the braver boys wouldcreep up the drive and then, whenthey lost their nerve, rush back tothe gates. I think the occupantsmust have been out. Surely, ifnot, they would have come out tosee what was going on.

This siege went on for about fif-teen minutes, until one of theteachers (Miss Gray orMiss Browning) passed on her bike.She dismounted, sent us all awayand I recall no further mention ofthe imprisoned children or theChinamen.

By the winter of 1934/5 work hadcommenced on building a SeniorSchool between the Junior build-ing and Hawes Lane. I can datethis because there were stacks ofbricks on part of what had beenour playground.

Perceptive members of my classhad noticed that I had taken ashine to a girl named Evelyn Wood.One afternoon when schoolfinished (and it must have been inDecember or January because itwas almost dark) the classcorralled myself and Evelyn by thebrick stack and wouldn’t let us gountil we had kissed.

Although Beckenham and BromleyCounty Grammar Schools for Boysand for Girls had been opened atthe start of the century as aconsequence of the 1902 EducationAct, the village school Log Bookmakes only two references to anyof them.

But, by the Summer of 1936, 41%of the boys and 31% of the girlsleaving Hawes Down Junior Schoolwere going to the Public orGrammar Schools and a further12% of boys and 19% of girls toCentral Schools. So more thanhalf the boys and exactly half thegirls were going on to a moreadvanced form of education.

This is a stark illustration of thedifference between the educationfacilities offered to the villagechildren with their ancient build-ing, disenchanted and short-livedstaff and irascible Mistress, andthe facilities now available to theincomers (and, of course, thechildren of the “old” villagers) intheir brand new, albeit grosslyovercrowded school, with itsstable and competent staff,excellent facilities and inspiringHeadmaster.

I took the Scholarship Examinationin the Summer of 1935 and passedto Beckenham County School.

My family were “old” villagers andhad it not been for Arcadia beingoverwhelmed, the village school –with its totally inadequate facili-ties – would probably haveremained in use and I might wellhave had little chance of movingon to grammar school.

SOURCESWW1-WW3Beckenham and Penge Advertiser, passimHarris, Christopher, West Wickham 1880-1980, 1983Hawes Down Junior School, Admission Registers and Log BooksKnowlden, Patricia and Walker, Joyce: West Wickham: Past into Present, 1986Walker, Joyce, Vanished West Wickham, 1994Personal reminiscences