Bob Hammond's excellent article on education in Keyworth after
1870, in which he states that discipline was strict, with frequent use of the
cane, especially on boys, brought to mind a story, often repeated to me by
village elders whose school life had been spent under the headmastership of Mr
Neate. I remember Mr Neate in his old and frail last years, but still a
dominant and respected member of the community.
When I was at that school some sixty years ago, it was
practice in high summer, at the end of the school day, to make our way down
Lings Lane - nearly to the end, squeeze through a gap in the hedge and make our
way across two fields down to the Fairham Brook. Quickly divesting ourselves of
short trousers and shirt, boots and socks, we would jump into the cool water
and splash about until the water became dark and churned up with mud. We even
had a choice of pools; Fizzies, every inch of three feet deep, or, further
upstream, Old Hale, a dark sinister pool where the brook widened out, arched
over completely by tall hawthorn trees which grew on either bank. It had a
brooding air of mystery and was reputed to be nine feet deep. Strange tales
were told of boys who had dived in, never to reappear - although I never
remember any names being mentioned. Old Hale was strictly for the senior boys
or strong swimmers. Most of us were content with Fizzies. Drying off was
accomplished with the aid of the hot afternoon sun and we then went back home,
along the lane for tea. It was a male preserve; girls went there only at
weekends or during school holidays
It was a tradition among Keyworth boys which went back many
years; and so to the story, which relates to an event in the early part of the
century. The scenario was the same with boys frolicking in the water, but
unknown to them, a well known local artist and photographer was wandering along
the brook seeking inspiration for some future painting. The setting was ideal
and a photograph was taken.
Shortly afterwards, Mr Neate arranged to take some pupils
on a hired dray to an exhibition of art and photography being staged in
Nottingham Castle. Unknown to him, the photograph had been submitted to the
castle art authorities, had been appraised by the committee and awarded first
prize in the photographic section. An enlarged version was afforded pride of
place and came into view as Mr Neate and his party entered this part of the
exhibition.
Prior to this, all had been sweetness and light. Mr Neate
had drawn the boys' attention to the particular works of art, had invited and
answered questions and had set out to improve his pupils' minds in this
particular field. Now, to his horror, he was confronted by this offending
photograph, not only holding pride of place, but showing his pupils naked, or
in various states of undress.
The merits of the photograph were lost on him: Close to
apoplexy he abruptly cancelled the outing, packed the boys on the dray and
headed back to Keyworth. If the journey to Nottingham had been at a speed
equivalent to one horsepower, it certainly returned at two. Legend has it that
the horse was quite exhausted on his arrival at Keyworth and took several days
to recover.
Punishment was the order of the day - but who?? Several
boys were identifiable from the photograph, but others could have been lurking,
hidden in the bushes. Perhaps more had yet to arrive. There was only one thing
to do, and Mr Neate had no qualms about doing it. Every boy in the school was
caned, ensuring that no culprit had escaped.
No grudge was held and no irate parents descended upon the
school. In Mr Neate's last years, the caned pupils, then in middle life and
with families of their own at the school, always afforded him the utmost
respect. I often wonder what the position would be today.
One of the elders, now long dead, who featured in the
photograph, and who told me the story, gave me the original photograph which is
still in my possession.