A.O.S.A. 2006 ANNUAL REPORT

This Magazine
Contents
All Magazines 
Contents
Homepage

Richardson Hall holds many memories for Old Scholars and I found the following two articles in the Summer Term 1976 Beckside concerning School House in which the school started. The First article by Margaret Alderson tells the history of the purchase of the building and its many alterations up until 1976. The second article was written by William Oughton more affectionately known as Pop, when he retired as Head of Richardson Hall.

THE HOUSE.

When Durham General Meeting decided to found a school in the North of England for children not in membership, but having claims upon the Society, it would have seemed obvious that the school would be situated in County Durham. Many properties were inspected, but chance, or, rather, the intentions of one man, decreed otherwise. Thomas Richardson’s mother was born in Great Ayton and he had a great desire to return to the village of his forebears and establish a school there. He, therefore, offered £5,000 towards purchasing property, providing that it was the property of his choice. The original estate belonged to his cousins, the Heseltons. He dealt secretly with them, negotiating to buy the property incognito.

In a letter dated 6.2.1841, he wrote: “If the Friends appointed think Ayton decidedly objectionable as a situation, if they do, I must go no further with the Society. I think England might be looked around and not find its equal - not one objection occurs to me, but being in Yorkshire.”

The property, he said, was large enough to house 50 boys and 50 girls, as well as servants and teachers. It was substantially stone-built and well timbered. He worked behind the scenes from November 1840, reduced the asking price, and persuaded Quarterly Meeting to settle for an estate in Ayton as the future home of the North of England Agricultural School.

The original house looked much as it does today, except that the top row of windows and the portico at the front were later editions. One entered by walking up a flight of steps from the Green and through the front door into a large hall. To the right was a sitting-room, to the left a dining room. What is now the General Office was the kitchen, and the fourth room was an office containing a high desk, which is now to be found in the Woodwork Room. The hall opened up into a very gracious staircase.

When I first came to Ayton, the hall must have looked very much as it did 100 years before. There always used to be a baby’s cradle standing to the left of the front door. This belonged to Ann Audle, a relative of Margaret Fell, and is now on permanent loan to Swarthmore Hall. Hanging on the wall were two cases, one contained a barometer and measuring tubes: these were in daily use from 1841 to 1950 for recording the weather. The other case contained a walking stick made from the wood of a tree, from which William Penn preached to the Indians. Both these items are happily still in the school.

The first floor had five bedrooms, and the top floor was composed of two small rooms and a granary. The grain was hauled up from the road, now the Meeting House lobby, by means of a pulley, to what is now the only north facing window. The horizontal part of the hoist remained in position for over another hundred years.

By 1841, there were 25 boys and 20 girls in residence as well as teachers and servants. The boys slept in what was the granary, and the girls in the bedroom below. It must have been quite a squash, but double beds were the order of the day, so - perhaps - there was a little floor space left! A committee minute suggested that “considerable attention should be paid to ventilation in the sleeping rooms"! During the 1950’s I slept in what was the granary. The hooks used by the children for hanging up their clothes were still on the walls. There was also a large switch on the wall, which turned out all the lights in the House. The Housekeeper once occupied this room and she turned out all the lights at 10.00 p.m. Even in 1955, there was no running water on the top floor, and we who lived there were woken at 6.45 a.m. by a maid delivering hot water so that we might wash.

The House has a few secrets - a false window on the top floor, blocked to evade the Window Tax, and, when we purchased it, two excellent wine cellars now used for coal. The porch on the south side was built in the third headmaster’s reign, and during the 1860’s another small window was made in this wall on the first floor. Although the outside has altered but little, the inside was altered beyond recognition during the 1960’s, when the Readers moved into Millfield House. The Staff dining-room - much to the regret of the resident staff - became the General Office. One serious accident almost happened in this room: the then Head was nearly killed! A Father from Ampleforth was a guest one teatime, and during a moment’s silence a large piece of plaster the size of a toilet pedestal descended between visitor and Head. Fortunately, the toilet remained suspended above their heads; otherwise, both would have been decapitated! Staff dining-room to office, the Head’s study became the new dining-room, the old drawing-room became the Head’s study, and the old office since 1841 was made into a much smaller room. The worst changes took place in the hall. The staircase was turned a full 180 degrees, a passage was put through the centre of the ground floor, and the front door of the school was locked forever. The two upper floors were divided vertically to become private dwellings, Dutch fireplaces were torn out, the original furniture scattered, and many parts of the House were re-floored.

The House has really altered very little externally since it was built in the 1700’s, but inside it has been changed both physically and in its usage as the years have gone past. When we stand on the Green and admire its gracious lines, let us spare a thought for Thomas Richardson who, by forethought, careful business dealings, generosity, and divine guidance, chose his cousins’ house to be the centre of this school, which has tried to educate its pupils according to his principles and beliefs for 135 years.

Margaret Alderson.

TWELVE YEARS IN SCHOOL HOUSE.

A parent once asked me whether I kept a diary. I sometimes wish that I had. There are so many unexpected things that happen to a resident schoolmaster - during term time, but also during the holidays. Old Scholars often drive up in a very special looking car and ask permission to look around. During the 1960’s an imposing Rolls Royce drove up. Out stepped an Old Scholar from the pre-1918 period. He was on a visit from Florida. I showed him round, and as we surveyed the scene from the library roof, he turned to me and said, “Tell me - have there always been girls in this school?” He couldn't remember: I suppose there are boys like that.

I have always had mixed feelings about Clock bedroom, especially when it used to hold 33 beds! But once, a father came up to have a look round. He had not been to boarding - school himself. But in B bedroom he stopped, and said, ”You know, I would have given my eyes to have been in a place like this when I was my son’s age.”

A bedroom of 33 boys was not the easiest of places to administer, and I have sometimes had considerable admiration for some of the Sixth Formers who have acted as bedroom prefects. There used to be one sleeping at each end of the room. One night, on my late round, I found a rather troublesome Third Former standing by the prefect’s bed at about 11 o’clock. “What are you doing there?” “Please, sir, X (the prefect) told me to stand here.” I address X. “What’s he doing here?” No answer. X had gone to sleep.

“Late round” could provide a storybook of its own. The boys of C - bedroom have always passed on the tale of Tanner Jackson’s ghost, which is said to haunt the bedroom. Once, at midnight, I could sense movement behind me, and light breathing. “This is it," I thought. I turned slowly, considering what it might be. “It” was wearing pyjamas, and moving in the direction of the door? “Where are you going?” “Sir, I have to report to Mr. G. because....” “Leave it till the morning - I think it can wait till then.” And so, he got back into bed. Next day, he never said a word about it!

Of course, fire practices have provided much amusement - especially when some senior girls used to have to climb out of our bedroom window, and clamber down to the roof of the Meeting House. They always did it in slacks - but there were those who hoped for a real emergency. What did seem like a real emergency to some was the occasion when I decided to produce some real smoke by burning a couple of sticks of phosphorus. The sight through the glass above Big Bell Door was awe-inspiring, but I believe there were some in C-bedroom who had the “wind-up.” It made a very realistic practice - but until the ventilation of the staircases is improved, I doubt whether we can repeat it; the smoke didn't clear for about an hour afterwards.

There are some happenings which very few people know about - jobs done by one or two people out of the public gaze; a mending job done here; clearing up broken glass there; a ballcock in a cistern breaks loose and C-washroom is awash: somebody is resourceful and helpful; at the beginning of term a few members of staff decide that a small bedroom really should have been decorated to make it habitable - so they spend a day wallpapering. Nobody asks - they just do it. I suppose it is things like these which one tends to remember most of all.

William Oughton.

Return to:
Homepage