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The early years The
1960s The 1970s The
1980s The 1990s
Headfort....the first fifty years
We recently celebrated our 50th anniversary.
Some past pupils and Staff have been kind enough to
send us birthday cards, in the form of short
essays. As John de Montfort remarked recently,
everything else changes, but not Headfort. If you
feel you'd like to add to this part of the site,
please feel free to email your contribution to the
usual place.
The school started in 1949. It was the intention
to open in 1948 but the necessary arrangements were
not in place till 1949.At first it seem suitable to
start a 'public' i.e fee-paying secondary school
but the initial enthusiasm seems to have evaporated
inside a year, partly, one suspects, from the
daunting costs. Headfort as prep. school more
properly dates from 1950. Three people dominated
the early years;
David Wild, recently returned from a
distinguished naval career during the Second World
War, had been teaching in the UK when the
opportunity arose for him to take over at Headfort.
Bill Stuart-Mills, the Senior Master and a man of
infinite patience and considerable intelligence,
had declined offers to teach at various
universities in the UK and found himself at
Headfort from the outset. Jack Sweetman,
accomplished games player (Triple Pink at Trinity
and association footballer with Swindon Town,
Wolfhound and Leinster cricketer) who had also been
teaching in the UK, now returned to Ireland as
Games Master. These three men were jointly
responsible for the growth and development of the
school.
The early years......Jack
Sweetman recalls
From the start...
Shortly after the end of World War II, Lord and
Lady Headfort gave thought to the future use of
Headfort House. Family and economic changes made it
impracticable to run the Georgian Mansion as a
private home. Various ideas were considered and
even tested before a decision was taken to found a
school based on the English Public School
system.
Plans were made to open in September '48 or Jan
' 49; in fact Staff were engaged. Romney Coles from
Carmel College Newbury was appointed Headmaster;
half a century later the present pupils remain
indebted to him, for he designed and constructed
the heated trolley that is still in use for
carrying delicious hot food and plates to the
Dining Room !
Peter Ross, a Trinity graduate who returned to
schoolmastering after a distinguished war record,
was appointed Senior Master. Peter served in the El
Alamein campaign where he won an M.C. His pupils
can read the citation in Ulick O Connor's Foreword
to Peter's Book " All Valiant Dust ", published by
Lilliput Press, run incidentally by an ex-Headfort
pupil, Anthony Farrell. Bill Stuart-Mills was made
Head of Classics and his wife Kate was in charge of
Music - one can almost hear the choir singing
sea-shanties. This talented pair served Headfort
for over 25 years, earning the love and respect of
their pupils.
A young and enthusiastic Matron, Eileen
Williams, was to play a vital role in the success
and rapid growth of the school. She married a local
auctioneer and farmer, George Armstrong, and they
live just outside Kells.
Riding has been a factor in the popularity of
Headfort. The first Riding Mistress was Elizabeth
Clark, a daughter of Lady Headfort by her first
marriage. In Mr. Wild's early days, some Staff
served both Lady Headfort and the school. Such a
one was Joan Gaitskill (a relation of the Labour
Party Leader, Hugh) who acted as Mr. Wild's
secretary. At a humbler level, Bill Kirwan, Lady
Headfort's chauffeur, did maintenance work before
joining the school on a full time basis. This
versatile man mended electrical equipment, painted,
mowed the lawns and sports grounds and in winter
lit the classroom fires; each class was allowed a
bucket of coal each day and limitless logs.
In the 50s other interesting personalities
served Headfort. Edith Morton arrived in January 51
to assist Matron. She was known as Nurse, and so
began an association that was to last for over
forty years. Matron and Nurse both worse full
nursing uniform, a practice that was continued for
may years before giving way to the more informal
white coat. Tom O Donnell, later to become a TD,
government minister and finally an MEP, taught
Maths for a short period. Michael Gardiner, a
former Gate actor, a man of great charm and
ability, taught English. When he took "off games
walks" he told stories that caught the interest of
children and made walks popular - hard to credit.
He died recently in Looe, in his beloved Cornwall.
Jim McAleese, a fine teacher, will be remembered
for wonderful sing-songs on winter evenings; his
future wife, Jill Fisher, was an outstanding Riding
Mistress. A popular Junior Mistress was Miss Mary
Simms ( a niece of Archbishop Simms) who had
survived the sinking off Donegal of the liner
Athenia, carrying refugee children to Canada.
Pupils of the late 50s will no doubt have many
amusing memories of Miss Rooney (a former
governess) who took Form I on an "off games" walk.
Some of her guides (she never mastered Headfort's
system of drives and paths) led her to the middle
of one of the largest fields then scattered,
warning her it was the bull field. Fortunately as
always she had her umbrella which she used to
wallop the bold and prod the slow. She was a
caring, much-loved figure.
Guiding the school through those early years was
David Wild, who had taken over from Mr. Coles in
April '50 and planned its future as a preparatory
school with membership of the IAPS. He taught at
the well-known Neville Holt before the war and
returned there after serving in the RN, reaching
the rank of Commander. At Headfort he personally
set a high standard and expected the same from all
around him. In his early days, his attention to
detail and planning were vital in quickly
establishing the reputation of Headfort, His
interest stretched to every aspect of the school.
One felt that, like a good referee, he saw
everything. This kept us all on our toes, but often
he praised little things which other "leaders"
would not have noticed.
In 1950, about 10 or 12 of our pupils came from
England; Bill Stuart-Mills would travel over to
escort parties met in London and Liverpool, before
travelling overnight on the B & I steamer to
Dublin and hence by public bus to Kells. Irish
pupils were met at the main Dublin stations and
travelled to Kells in a hired bus, carrying all the
cases on the roof. A small number came by private
car. Before the end of the decade a change took
place with the increased use of private cars and
the minibus replacing the large hire bus.
At first the school occupied the West Wing
(classrooms) and the entire top floor of the main
house (dormitories and Staff rooms) plus a few more
rooms on the first floor, one being the
Headmaster's Study, which overlooked the circle.
The Sewing room from which Matron operated, was on
the top floor at the head of the stone staircase.
The dormitories were given historic names - Greeks
Romans, Danes Vikings etc.
Much of the daily routine has remained unaltered
over the years; rising 7.30. breakfast 8.00, Break
11.00 Rest & bedtime for the Seniors 8.30. Mr.
Wild took breakfast every morning and his "Good
Morning" was echoed by a loud "Good Morning Sir".
All resident staff were expected to attend. After
Prayers Mr. Wild watched the boys filing past on
their way to class; this practice often enabled him
to spot a boy who needed help or encouragement. At
Break Mr. Wild usually poured out the steaming
cocoa which arrived in large enamelled jugs.
According to weather conditions, his instructions
varied, "Pitch","Lawns","Wood Walk", "Drive" &
and on wet days, "Stay In".
At lunch each table was provided with a menu
with the words "Manners makyth Man". There was
always an alternative dessert - each table was
allowed a maximum of 4 alternatives. This was
served by the Staff sitting at the other end on
Matron's table.
In Rest, the boys read and changed their books;
a senior boy (librarian) entered the borrowing in
an exercise book. Also in Rest, boys queued outside
the Study to seek weekend leave or perhaps to
explain their disciplinary errors, as listed on a "
Report Form". Punishment was recorded: "Warned "
"Bed Early" "Slipper".
The rest of day has changed little except that
originally the routine was formal. At bedtime
Seniors collected their books, checked their
classrooms and lined up in the corridor; then the
Master on Duty gave the order to go upstairs. The
Matron and Duty Master urged boys to wash. Mr. Wild
strolled round the dormitories chatting to the boys
about their books or some aspect of their day.
Lights Out followed at 9 o'clock, when Matron and
the DM went round all the dormitories.
During the first year, normal games were limited
by numbers. Keen adults, such as Mr. Ross, and the
school chef O Donoughue, helped to swell numbers.
When on duty, O Donoughue wore full chef's uniform,
including the hat! He left in Dec. 1950. In the
first summer, cricket was played on the estate
pitch, situated near the old boathouse, not far
from the main entrance. A strand of wire kept
grazing cows off the wicket. Late in the 40s the
Headfort Butler , Murdoch, was highly regarded as a
fast bowler. Later when " Steward " in the RAF
club, he featured for some years in Dublin cricket.
By the summer of 1950, an area in the middle of the
modern sports field had been reclaimed from sheep
pasture. The playing area was approached by a
grassy patch, flanked by tall grass. A great oak
tree which shortened the square leg boundary, was
cut down about 1952. In certain weather conditions,
the site of its former existence can still be seen
close to the circle on the modern hockey pitch.
Among the original pupils there were many
natural games players; to this group was added the
entrants of Sept. 1950 who included Nick and Jonah
Barrington, Mike Chamberlayne and a boy from the
Isle of Man, Wise, who was to move to brook House
with Mr. Ross. So from the start we had a strong
rugby team. The game flourished and by 1953 we were
able to compete against the U13 XVs from Belvedere
and St. Mary's as well as fulfilling Prep School
fixtures.
In the summer of 1951, very few knew much about
cricket ; many were playing the game for the first
time, so not surprisingly our first match was a
painful affair. Quickly our daily games improved
and by the next season, we were able to give a good
account of ourselves. MacLachlan was to become our
first player to score a century and D Cant took all
ten wickets in an away game at St. Stephen's. This
feat won him special mention in " The Irish Times".
The school quickly established a fine academic
record. Brian Thompson and Alan Jones won
scholarships in 19 52, the former to Leighton Park
the latter to St. Columba's. The next year Hardy
Jones did likewise. Later in the decade, awards
were won by Adrian Shears, Andrew MacLachlan and
Andrew Davidson. In the early years, probably
almost 50% of our pupils went to English Public
Schools.
In the 50s, the common diseases of measles,
chicken pox, mumps, and scarlet fever were regarded
as very serious - for example measles resulted in
an isolation of about 3 weeks, part of which was
spent in a darkened room. School matches would be
cancelled. Polio and tuberculosis were dreaded and,
resulting from the work of Dr. Noel Browne and
others, mobile X ray units visited the schools
including Headfort. We were only too well aware of
polio as among our own pupils were 2 very plucky
boys, Alistair Jones, who loved to join our soccer
games, and Timothy Jackson, who triumphed over his
disability and qualified as a doctor. The latter
wore a hearing aid which he switched off when given
an order he did not lie. His spirit and charm
protected him from any consequence. John Bryce
Smith, David Patton and Christopher Evans - Tipping
were successful amateur jockeys. David Cornwall is
a director of Punchestown racecourse. The link with
the equine world has been significant in Headfort's
success.
Many pupils of the 50s have enjoyed great
success. Nick and Jonah Barrington both became
squash internationals, Jonah going on to be World
Champion. Nick, a versatile sportsman, represented
Cornwall in several sports. Jeremy Speid-Soote has
a short but successful as a NH jockey in England.
Neville Callagahan, based at Newmarket is still
turning out winners regularly.
Three pupils of the 50s captained the St.
Columba's cricket XI- Alan Jones (1957) Leslie
Jones (60-61) and A.J. Davidson (62-63). Business
success is represented by Eddie Wilson (Ulster
Carpets) and David Patton. Service careers were
followed by David Cant(seconded to the navy of
Brunei), Mervyn Lougher-Goodey (RCAF) and brig.
Adrian Naughten, former military attaché in
Ottawa, now serving in Southern Africa. Kevin
Tierney, based in New York is a silver expert. Dan
Minchin and Niall Herriott are two of Ireland's
nest know marine biologists, the former won great
respect Among his peers when his grandmother;s
horse, Quare Times. won the 1955 Grand National. It
was in all the Sunday letters. Frances Stuart-Mills
stood in a recent general Election. Her transfers
enabled another member of her party to win a Dail
seat. Jonah Barrington's achievements brought about
an amazing upsurge in the game all over the world.
Jeremy Parkinson-Hill has retired from
Transatlantic flying and runs his stud farm. Robert
Hall is well-known as a racing and showjumping
commentator on RTE. Guy Williams has distinguished
himself in may areas. He has been a racing official
in England; he has trained an Irish Grand national
winner, Daletta, and produced several books on
racing. His recent book on "The Curragh Lodges" is
a collector's item. Mention must be made of the Rev
Dr. Peter Blackwell- Smyth who is obviously a very
busy man. He lives in the St. Austell area of
Cornwall. At the very end of the 50s names like
Dreaper, Moore Lanigan-O Keefe Newell Patton Searle
Amoore and Naper appeaerd on the school list but
their contributions relate more to the early 60s.
Another career followed the above pattern; he was a
keen cricketer and on the rugby field his small
stature deceived many an opponent. This blend of
skill and courage won notice and praise from
colleagues and rivals. In 1959, he entered Upper VI
at a very young age, in 1960 he topped the form and
in 1961 won a scholarship to Ampleforth. He was
Peter Lawrence. The qualities he showed at Headfort
were part of his life and death. He will be
remembered forever by all his contemporaries.
Changes and progress were part of the 50s. As
the numbers increased, the school took over more of
the main house. Mr. Wild moved to the present
"Headmaster's Study"; Lady Headfort's suite became
a much-needed sickroom and surgery. Cricket nets
were moved to their present site. Tennis, first
played on the Headfort courts, moved to its modern
position. In the early years, swimmers had to go
all the way to the pool in the river above the New
Bridge. For a time, a metal pool was erected on the
lawn; this enabled swimming to be enjoyed in Break
etc. Changing rooms, originally on the South side o
the house were moved across the corridor to their
modern location. This entailed a the creation of a
new Carpentry shop. Facilities used from the start
included the playroom(now a girls' dormitory), the
squash court and the gym equipped by Lady
Headfort). A former stable (where the laboratory is
now) was used for rifle shooting, which was
supervised by Mr. Stuart-Mills. The outbreak of the
IRA campaign (1969) ended this activity. A feature
of summer evening playtimes was s croquet on the
circle; Ofherwise only Mr. Wild walked over grass!
There was an exception. Headfort teams and their
visitors played on the sacred turf before the
visiting team departed.
In the early days our supply of milk came from
the Headfort dairy. It was delivered twice a day in
large churns. Each day fresh vegetables came from
the gardens and in the summer several fruits
including strawberries, which caused much
excitement. In autumn apples appeared so often that
they produced both "crumble " and "grumble" ! The
gardens also provided flowers which Mr. Wild used
to brighten halls and passageways. A single orchid
in a cut glass vase was usually to be seen on the
oval table in the Main hall.
Quite early on, the Headfort family moved out to
the modernized East Wing, which was named "Headfort
Court". For a time, Sir Christopher and Lady
Musgrave were tenants and this enabled them to take
a great interest in the school. In fact Lady
Musgrave and her great friend Mrs. Lowe once came
to the aid of Matron when Nurse was absent for a
considerable time due to illness. The family have
been wonderful friends to the school over the
years.
Forty years on, one wonders what has happened to
the many with whom touch has been lost. It would be
wonderful to hear your stories at this special time
in Headfort's life. In the name of one such pupil
who always seemed his happiest at school,
surrounded by his friends, can I invite you to get
in touch
"Your laughter and your fun,
Your shadow in the sun;
Where are you Roddy Shaw ?
The 60s......Alan
Sweetman
As Headfort prepares to celebrate its first
half-century I find myself surprised by the
realisation that the school was less than fifteen
years old when first making an impression on me in
the early 1960's.
I had already spent seven years at Headfort
before joining Miss McCormack's First Form in the
autumn term of 1965. Names and deeds were already
familiar, material of daily conversation in the
red-bricked house beside the kitchen-garden; faces
recognised from hot summer days on the boundary,
and cold winter afternoons on the touchline. The
school was a mere teenager, but you would hardly
have guessed it. Dynasties were already in place,
Cleshams, Newells, Searles.
Traditions and legends had accumulated, and as
far as a seven-year-old was concerned the school
might very well have existed for centuries. Routine
was firmly in place. Morning-walk to the first
arch, where you would chisel away at the rock with
"lucky-stones"; then Prayers, Ballroom for the
Prods, RCs banished to unknown location, possibly
in the basement. Went there by mistake on one of
those first mornings, and heard Jim McAleese
leading a charge of Hail Marys. Sounded much more
fun than Boss Wild's solemn collects, but my heresy
was discovered. In the summer Wild supervised P.T.
on the Lawn at morning-break, a bit of Dads' Army
about it, but no laughing matter at the time. On
warm evenings he would oversee swims in the river,
upstream from the New Bridge. He was at the height
of his powers then, and often seemed an austere
figure. Not many challenged his authority, and
Christopher Bective's sporadic appeals to his
father's status as lord of the manor were
embarassingly futile.
Wild inspired a blend of fear and respect, but
the other pillar of the Headfort establishment,
Bill Stuart-Mills, commanded affection. Physically
frail, he was an intellectual strongman, rigorous
but deeply compassionate, the school's great
academic treasure. He began a long battle against
cardiac-illness in the latter years of the decade,
and I like to think that our love for him helped to
sustain his courage.Other characters came and went;
some of their own volition, others booted or
hounded out; habitual prep-school chancers of the
Decline And Fall type, a few endearing eccentrics,
several splendid incompetents, one or two monsters.
Below stairs, a double-barrelled housekeeper ran a
reign of terror. Upstairs, Dorothy Brewster,
"Tick-Tock", battled rather helplessly against the
hordes. A kindly woman, she retired prematurely and
struggled on for years against the effects of
multiple sclerosis.
Bill Kirwan, odd-job-man supreme, cut the grass
and tramped dank corridors with buckets of coal. I
remember his unsubtle attempts to extract racing
tips from well-connected young gentlemen, of whom
there were many, Dreaper, Moore, de Burgh,
McCalmont, O'Brien, amongst them. Plenty of future
winners there. Miss Thompson had charge of the
Second Form, in the basement room that would later
become the small dining-room. She became reluctant
to teach me history after I told her that Robin
Hood was not history but legend, and that I was
sure my father would agree. I was probably
insufferable, but fear of my father was doubtless a
key-factor in persuading people that it would make
little sense to beat me up. The shadow of bullying
was in the background, tales of awful initiation at
the hands of the dreaded "Grubb gang", but I was
insulated against that aspect of school life. The
odd jibe made me blush uncontrollably, but I don't
recall any lasting hurt.
My father, who kept the racing-community in
touch with news from the outside world, coached the
two major sports, cricket and rugby. We called them
"games", and the term "coaching" was not in use.
Though into his 40s, Jacko, as he was then known,
was not long out of his rugby-playing career, and
was famously fit. In both sports he had charge of
some good teams and some indifferent ones.
Generally he made good use of limited raw-material,
and seldom failed to spot the odd individual who
would go on to make the grade at public-school, and
occasionally beyond. The use of christian names was
still banned, but my father had a habit of
foreshortening surnames, "Apples" for the
Aprahamians, "Tot" for the Tottenhams, and so on.
Up to around 1967 tennis was still played on
red-sanded courts in the Pleasure-gardens. Squash
had a burst of popularity as Jonah Barrington began
to make headlines. Bicycles were not permitted,
though an exception was made for one boy, John
Skrine, a victim of polio. Freedom was most easily
obtained by the riders, who had access to tracts of
the estate under a succession of mistresses, of
whom Jill Fisher was easily the most popular and
effective. The school's scout troop was in terminal
decline. Boxing was still an option, but seldom
exercised. There was a shooting-range, occupying
the site where the science-lab was built before the
end of the decade. A small round plastic
swimming-pool was put in place below the ha-ha
around the mid 60s, and the skating-rink was
constructed around the same time. The "Ship",
beside the fourth-game pitch, was a popular social
venue, and the woods, forbidden territory, were
colonised from time to time. "Raiding the garden"
was a summer pastime for the daring, marbles and
conkers, respectable occupations in season. Airfix
models were a status-symbols, and pencil-cricket
featured the likes of Dexter, Cowdrey and Sobers.
The outside world seemed a long way off. We seldom
saw television. Bizarrely, Dixon Of Dock Green was
a Saturday-evening treat. Wild must have seen it as
a morality-play. Ev'ning all.
I have one clear memory of a specific occasion
when the television was called into service, and it
says a lot about the Headfort of those days. We
assembled in the old library - red chairs in front
for prefects and other heavyweights of the
community - to watch Churchill's funeral. In
retrospect, that solemn, stately farewell could be
seen as an elegy for a lost world. It was a world
which Headfort, in its infancy, had distantly
aspired to join. The Headfort of the 60's still had
a curiously colonial air, out of tune with its
Irish surroundings, and people were only
half-joking when they said that Wild saw it as an
outpost of Empire.
Meanwhile, in public-schools across the water,
old Headfort boys, many of them not much older than
us, must have had some contact with "the swinging
sixties", the era of Carnaby Street, the Beatles
and the Rolling Stones. Hallucogenic drugs, free
love, anti-Vietnam War rallies, the student
radicalism of Paris 1968, Headfort was far away
from all that, but was not immune from the social
changes of the decade. Absolutes of discipline and
behaviour began to dilute, and a degree of
informality trickled into the life of the
school.
The curriculum was beginning to change too, and
by the time I reached the form which was quaintly
known as The Remove "new maths" had arrived,
replacing the old strands of algebra, arithmetic
and geometry. Science came late in the day to
Headfort, and was treated none too seriously until
Peter Bamford arrived, initially as assistant to
the ill-tempered Archdeacon Giff, around 1971.
In most subjects the emphasis was still on
individual advancement rather than any sense of
collective achievement, and the artistic life of
the school was subdued to say the least. I remember
a series of excruciating Christmas concerts, in
more than one of which I recited Eliot's Journey Of
The Magi in suitably declamatory tones. Drama was
almost unknown until John Leyden came on the scene
in 1970. Music was taught with zeal by Kate
Stuart-Mills, but was hardly a feature of
school-life. Art was vaguely considered as
something for girls, of whom there were none.
If this gives an impression of a barren
educational landscape that would be unfair. For my
part, Bill Stuart-Mills made up for a lot of
deficiencies, and I know that others will recall
him with a similar debt of gratitude. He gave me a
love of learning and a facility for languages,
sharpened my critical instincts in a host of ways,
and taught me much about honour and honesty, some
of which I hope may have rubbed off. My father, in
the classroom as much as at home, cultivated my
interest in the past, and in people and places. Tom
Day and, later. Colin Stoupe, an enthusiastic
Northern Irishman with a passion for Hemingway,
helped to stimulate an early interest in
literature. Day, whose initials were TA, was very
tall, and was the bearer of one of the more
ingenious Headfort nicknames, "Tadpole".
Writing this has brought back a torrent of
memories, and for some reason one image keeps
coming back. It is the last evening of a summer
term. I could not be sure of the year. It may well
be 1965. On the circle in front of the school I am
sitting beside two older boys, Starling and
Cocksedge. They are leaving the school. The thought
strikes me that I will never see either of them
again, and I have to fight back tears. Perhaps I
was just beginning to realise that Headfort was a
very small place in a very large world. My own time
there would just as surely come to an end too, but
in one way or another I would retain an involvement
with the place for more than 30 years. Many of the
more lasting friendships which I made there date
from after my time as a pupil, but I find it hard
to look back on Headfort's past with anything other
than a sense of nostalgia. For me it was home, as
well as school, and as an only child it gave me the
embrace of a surrogate family. I never did see
Starling or Cocksedge again, but like so many
others they will always be part of that family.
ALAN SWEETMAN
The 70s.....Piers
Landseer
The 70s
I arrived at Headfort on a hot September day in
1972, in a Beetle driven by my mother.(Beetles were
not cool then). Miss Long was there to take away
our tuck. My tin was tall and cylindrical. Everyone
else's was square. The other new boys were Cubitt,
Podmore, Ogilvy and Watt. How tortuous and
repetitive the jokes were.
"What's your name ? "
"Watt "
"Don't say What to me "
Fletcher mi was a giant who wore long corduroy
trousers. So did Brownlow, Boyd and Stoney. Most
pockets bulged with marbles, hankies penknives and
bitter oranges which wouldn't peel.
One term ffrench-Davis arrived. He wore corduroy
shorts. David Williams arrived. he sucked his thumb
and not even Mrs Leyden could stop him. We three
did a lot of illegal things, like going to the
woods, finding a boat down by the New Bridge,
killing pheasants and running away from the
terrifying gamekeeper Joe Ryan, who would shoot
corn at your legs.
The Great Escape starred Tod Watt, Neil Slevin
and Bert Reynolds. They stole torches (one was
mine) and VI Form bikes and cycled past Johnny
Grimes on the drive.
Jack Sweetman broke the record for the loudest
shout ever when ffrench-Davis, twenty yards from
the line and with no-one to beat, went for the drop
goal, which skidded along the ground in the
direction of 2nd Game.
Watty, or Andrew Watson, was the cleverest boy
at the school. He once tried to get drunk on
wine-gums from McCarthy's.. David (Boss) Wild read
out his scholarship marks at Tea and gave us all
free periods. Watty had never been more popular but
remained indifferent to his new status and carried
on with his favourite pastimes, including sailing
paper boats across the puddles in the Stable
Yard.
Other highlights - the disappearance of Dizzy
from the Lower VI. He was found in pieces in the
moat. An elaborate model ship, made by Tim
MacDougald, disappeared without trace. One day a
girl arrived in Lunch Line. Her name was Sasha
Musgrave and shortly afterwards she was joined by
Sarah Potterton, Sophie Dobrzynski,Katie O Connell,
Nicola Ward and Laura Daly. The unwritten
constitution said that you didn't talk too much
with the girls. Still, they improved our rugby
performance. No-one forgets the beautiful sight of
Katherine Morton gliding from Headfort Court to the
swimming pool. In those days, cricket matches were
not rained off. In winter you couldn't break the
ice on the puddles. Fires blazed in the classrooms
and "Logs" was a punishment. On weekends the big
guns would come and help the Marquess blast the
pheasants out of the sky and distract us from Bill
(Chiefy) Wild, who would hurl our Latin books
furiously and put us in DT.
The 1980s........Andrea
Fasenfeld
Apple pie beds, Myth or imagination -
Lingard’s garlic toothpaste?, Distinctions,
Forts, Dagmar Lyons , Headboy, Joss Hazell + Ralph,
Prefects, Molly Cox + Rebecca, Mrs McAleese, Snoopy
De Raeymaeker, Mars Bar tests, Latin excellents,
Sam Spudz crisps, "Will you kindly be quiet",
Vegetable curry, Rhona Barry, Black puddings
immersed in tea, Seanin Gilmore + Raymond +
Grainne, Scripture class, Vicky Tindal + Matthew,
Upper sixth, Billy Bamford, Good food after a
sports match, Dissecting locusts, Tom Wilkes,
Upstairs downstairs, Birds and bees talk, Mr &
Mrs Sweetman, Mr & Mrs Leyden, Spanish pupils,
Shadowing, Juliet & Lukie Barrow, Clean undies
twice a week, Chris Grew, Squash courts, Tommy
Shillington, Mrs Rooney's long nails !, Simon &
Marcus Chawner, Marcus Williams, Assembly, Theseus
and the Minotaur, Under Milk Wood, the Moat, "Wakey
wakey rise and shine", Clean sheets day, Navy
Blazers, Tuck day, Mc Carthy's sweets, Sunday lunch
in the Park Hotel, Virginia , Micks macs, 10p
church collection, Matron, Micky ffrench Davis,
"You’re moving up", Narrow iron beds, the
first Apple Macintosh PC, Rolling the cricket
pitch, Red mini-bus, Asterix in french & Lucky
Luke, The Quiet Room, Gymkhana, Sports Day,
Strawberries and cricket, Parents vs. Teacher
Hockey Match, The stables, Headfort cheques, The
Gallaghers, lumpy porridge, watery porridge, "do
you want tea?", Tommy Reilly, dorm raids, doing the
oval, Morgan Freeman, Half term, Hetty Mortimer, St
Patricks Day concert,
Andrea Fäsenfeld
The 1990s.....Sarah
Davis-Goff
Hmmm. Headfort in the nineties, very much more
of the same, I should imagine. Actually it was fun,
which is impressive when one keeps in mind that
it's a school and any age is young enough to feel
homesick. I'd be lying if I said I could remember
my first night there clearly. I can remember some,
like the friendly older girls who showed me around
after my parents had left. It was really sunny. it
always seemed to be sunny at Headfort. That's my
memory playing up again. It was 1989 when I went
and I was nearly eight. I know the first year isn't
supposed to be fun but for me it was. It wasn't my
first time away from home or anything like that.
It's not like my first term didn't have any
surprises. The first couple of nights I learnt the
truth about Santa Claus, tooth fairies and, most
surprising of all, where babies come from. My
dormitory captain was Griselda Williams.
The early years were basically fun;I'd no exams
to worry about and my biggest problem was that
someone has given me lace-up shoes that I had
difficulty tying. Later years were fun also. The
teachers started to respect us, as we reached the
ripe old age of 13. The whole learning aspect was
geared up to the notorious CE, which decided
whether we'd be allowed entrance to our next
school. The exam seemed like a huge monster, while
it's really a simple enough hurdle.
I remember riding lessons, which were brilliant,
especially since my parents weren't keen on horses.
Everyone rode round the beautiful estate once a
week.
Granted, boarding school is not for every child
but I believe it suits most. I think it's one of
the best ways of educating children, making friends
and learning to live with other children. Headfort
in the 90s ? As usual
Sarah Davis-Goff
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