Perhaps the most-abiding memory from my days in Rochelle is the singing of the school song on Speech Day. Although I can’t sing, I listened and I followed the words. It was always an emotional occasion for those about to leave school but as the years have gone by, the words often spring to mind and nostalgia for those far-off carefree days of youth fills my heart. A few years ago I suddenly heard the song on the radio and discovered it was the Harrow School song I was listening to. The tune was the same but the words applied to the more famous school, similar though they were.
There was something very special about Rochelle and we all took something more than academic or other achievements away with us. One of my memories is of staring out the window of Upper Four’s classroom at the barrage balloon that hovered serenely over the city. It sailed so gracefully in the air with the sun shining on its silver body.
We were sheltered from the harshness of the outside world and carried on oblivious to the war that was being waged in Europe. When the war ended in 1945, I was about to leave school. We were brought in to the Headmistress’ drawing room and allowed to listen to a programme about the concentration camps. It was all strange and new to us and I don’t believe we quite took in what was happening. I know we had taken out a Union Jack flag from the Guide cupboard earlier that day and we had sung ‘God Save our Gracious King’ and taken photographs of ourselves with the flag. We had been aware of the war but it hadn’t bothered us too much.
In recent years I have been back to two big reunions in Rochelle. It was good to catch up on so many of my former mates. Some looked just as I remembered them as school-leavers. Others had aged appreciably but all carried the same loving memories of their days in Rochelle. The last occasion was a ‘Farewell to Rochelle’ gathering after the last boarder had left and the school had been sold. Tears flowed in abundance as we said farewell. The old order had certainly changed and I for one was well aware of the passing years and the end of an era.
I often have such vivid dreams of places that I know they are based on places I was familiar with in the past. Some years ago I had two such dreams. In one I found myself back in Rochelle but it had become a mixed school and boys and girls, dressed in shorts and tee shirts were sitting in deck chairs on a flat roof eating ice cream. I climbed out through a window on to the roof and began talking to the young people. I was telling them how different their life in school was from mine. The window leading to the flat roof was so vivid to my mind that I felt it had to be real. Yet none of my friends remembered such an area in school. It bothered me for years. On the first reunion some of us stayed in the school and we wandered around, seeking out all the remembered spots. Suddenly, I saw a door that used to lead to Staff bedrooms. I knew that I would find the window that led out on to the flat roof on the other side of that door, and I did. Quite amazing!
One of those at that reunion was a friend from school days whose home I had once visited. The other dream that haunted me for years was of a walled garden but could I place where it was! I thought of Blenheim Palace
Whenever I hear the sound of tennis balls hitting a racquet, I am back in memory on the school tennis courts and the sun is shining. Sometimes in the summer we played rounders but we used makeshift posts and bats. The most precious memories from those days are of the girls and the friendships and our loyalty to one another. I was prepared for confirmation when I was 15 but the confirmation in Cork was during the Easter holidays so I was actually confirmed at home in Abbeyleix. My dress had been made in Dowdens of Cork. They supplied all items of our school uniform and they were quite expensive. My sister, Helen, later wore the same dress at her confirmation.
Having taught at all three levels of education, I remember the teachers in school in a different light from how I saw them as a pupil. Our headmistress was remote from us, a figure we were rather scared of. Twice I stood on the carpet in her presence on matters of discipline and that was a scary experience. Miss J, who taught English and Scripture, really put the fear of God in us. When she was angry, we quaked in fear and trembling. However, I always felt that she cared for us. She used to sit up on a desk in our midst as if she wanted to be closer to us. Our science teacher, perhaps, should never have been a teacher. She was the butt of some rebellion and lack of respect and we delighted in defying her and goading her. I liked our French teacher, although some found her sarcastic. She was always kind to me and inspired me with confidence. We all liked the singing teacher, and the PE teacher. They were only a few years older than we were. Miss G taught Irish, not the most popular subject in our school at that time, but she was a good teacher. Miss S, who taught English and history, was very old-fashioned and was dismissive of everything Irish. I didn’t like her. In the summer we wore ankle socks instead of stockings and she used to send us to our rooms to change back into our long black stockings. She said that ankle socks were inappropriate for teenage girls! I wonder what she would think of how today’s teenagers dress! Our geography teacher took some teasing from us but she took it in good part. She was all right.
Smoking in school was always a bit of a problem. Some of the girls were quite heavy smokers and the rest of us would try the odd cigarette. I remember one session where we all had a smoke and we threw the butts in the water tank. The smell of smoke must have lingered noticeably in the air. Anyway, our clothes must have reeked of tobacco.
The kindergarten teacher, who was young and friendly, warned us about it and said that Miss K was about to pounce. Sure enough, she approached me and ordered me to draw up a list of all those who had been smoking. Armed with paper and pencil, I went the rounds and asked each girl, “Were you smoking?” Each gave the same reply. “No.” I handed the list to Miss K. She had a habit of staring at you till you looked away and that she considered was proof of your guilt. It was like trial by fire and water! The others had warned me not to blink under her stare and with difficulty I held out. Eventually, she slammed the door in my face and admitted defeat. We were on our guard then. Fortunately, cigarettes made me feel ill and dizzy so I had the sense not to smoke in adult life.
The kindergarten teacher, who was young and friendly, warned us about it and said that Miss K was about to pounce. Sure enough, she approached me and ordered me to draw up a list of all those who had been smoking. Armed with paper and pencil, I went the rounds and asked each girl, “Were you smoking?” Each gave the same reply. “No.” I handed the list to Miss K. She had a habit of staring at you till you looked away and that she considered was proof of your guilt. It was like trial by fire and water! The others had warned me not to blink under her stare and with difficulty I held out. Eventually, she slammed the door in my face and admitted defeat. We were on our guard then. Fortunately, cigarettes made me feel ill and dizzy so I had the sense not to smoke in adult life.
We had another episode during that final year. In the bright summer evenings a group of boys from the Boys’ Brigade and some of the choirboys from St Nicholas’ Church would gather on the road beneath the high wall. We would congregate in the bushes on our side of the wall and chat and laugh with them. They would throw sweets up to us and it was so innocent and harmless.
One of the residents across the road complained to the school and the senior mistress reprimanded us but she said she would take it no further if we promised not to go near the wall again. Next night we heard the lads calling so we all sneaked into the bushes and began telling them about being found out. Suddenly, the bushes parted and there was Miss K rushing to the wall and looking down at the lads. Among those looking up at her was the son of our chaplain. Next day we were summoned in threes to appear before the headmistress and she left us in no doubt that were not the whole senior school involved we would be expelled for that infringement of the rules! What would it take today to have pupils expelled?
One of the residents across the road complained to the school and the senior mistress reprimanded us but she said she would take it no further if we promised not to go near the wall again. Next night we heard the lads calling so we all sneaked into the bushes and began telling them about being found out. Suddenly, the bushes parted and there was Miss K rushing to the wall and looking down at the lads. Among those looking up at her was the son of our chaplain. Next day we were summoned in threes to appear before the headmistress and she left us in no doubt that were not the whole senior school involved we would be expelled for that infringement of the rules! What would it take today to have pupils expelled?
I cherish my memories of those far-off days of innocence, and the dreams that drift over me like soft-scented rain, memories to cherish and to look back on with nostalgia and gratitude for the opportunities our school gave us..
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