Cwm School Records - an Introduction

The closure of Cwm school is the end of a little piece of history. A place which has been a focal point for  a small community and holding so many important memories for so many people. My wife’s family all  went there and so did my own children for a while. It has always been a warm and comforting place.
I have had the great privilege of access to the school log books and they are a fascinating insight, not only into the history of the school but also into the social history of the area.
They were carefully compiled over almost a hundred years in by Head teachers, often in elegant flowing long hand. Much of the first book was written by   Ann Bevan who was Head of Cwm Board School Infant Department for 34 years following her appointment in 1879. The books record attendance, the appointment of staff, inspection reports and daily activity. As a teacher I find the similarities and differences between then and now very interesting indeed.

The first thing that strikes you is how important the weather was. Indeed the school record becomes a detailed record of the weather. When it rained heavily then the children couldn’t come to school, probably because they only had one set of clothes. If they got wet they had nothing else. The teachers could do little themselves to dry them, especially if the fireplaces were broken or the fires not lit. What else could the mothers do?
And of course it rains a lot in Swansea, so there was frequent disruption. The log keeps saying “School closed due to the severity of the weather.”  The teachers would do their best to dry them and then amuse them with “singing and games” until it was dry enough to send them home. On 15 February 1900 it rained so heavily that only 9 children turned up.
Attendance was compounded by illness. Dangerous deadly diseases could run through the school almost unchecked. “Many of the children are in delicate health” it says in 1903.
They were at the mercy of epidemics of childhood diseases, especially in the winter months. Diphtheria, measles, mumps, whooping cough, scarlet fever are all regularly recorded. The school would be closed or holidays extended in an attempt at infection control. In May 1898, 80 children were absent, 75 with measles, 4 with scarlet fever and 1 with influenza.    In 1911 they closed for 3 weeks due to a measles outbreak. In September 1919 it is recorded that “one child died this week in hospital suffering from diphtheria.”  These must have been awful times for parents, facing these silent killers.
What the children were taught in school also reflects the priorities of the time – the marching lessons, the knitting and the sewing and the darning. After all you didn’t replace your clothes, you mended them.
There was also a sense that the school represented its community and responded to the wider world in a way that we do not. They didn’t have the constant entertainment we have. Theirs were much simpler times. So the school would be closed for fairs in Llangefelach and Llamsamlet or when a Barnum and Bailey show came to town. One day they all went off to see Bostock and Wombwell’s Menagerie and a good time was had by all. They closed for a parade of horses in Swansea, a cyclist’s carnival, the Band of Hope Competitive Festival, the relief of Mafeking in the Boer War, the assassination of President McKinley. In 1896 they closed the school for the afternoon so the teachers could attend a bazaar in aid of the NUT at the Albert Hall in Swansea.
But the school day was also interrupted for more chilling reasons.
The log book tells us that “Recreation was suspended this morning until 11.20 am to enable the children to see the troops pass on the Great Western Railway. It was 28 October 1914 and they were going to war.

Times Change. Issues Don't

One of the great fascinations of reading the log books is the way that you can suddenly be surprised at how contemporary some of the issues appear to be.  The same issues appear to have been facing schools for over a century.  Look at some of the examples I have unearthed from the period before the outbreak of the First World War in 1914.
Attendance is a big issue right from the start. It is recorded daily and reflects the considerable influence of the weather. Wet children were a big issue. How do you get them dry? When children had few clothes to wear, families would keep children at home when it rained. How could you dry them if the fires weren’t properly maintained by the authority or if there was a shortage of coal? Often the children who did turn up were entertained with stories and singing until the rain stopped and they could go home.
Concerns over the effect of social deprivation were common even then. Some children were held back a year “owing to their backward condition, the result of early neglect” Sadly many of us are saying the same things today. On 23 March 1892 they admitted Samuel Allen aged 7 years and 6 months, who had never attended school before. Evan Evans was admitted from Morriston in 1894 and was “found unable to anything.” No change there then.
Wrestling with new technology – 4 March 1902 received instruction to discontinue the use of slates in school. A vain hope actually.
The well-being agenda was already firmly in place. Childhood illnesses feature throughout the record. The school would be closed because of epidemics of measles or diphtheria. In May 1887 there was less than a third in school. Doctors were always turning up to measure the children or to inspect teeth and hair.
There was great concerns over the condition of school buildings. The fireplaces fell into disrepair causing much correspondence. The rain came through the roof. The School Board wrote a ratty letter to the council in 1908 in response to an inspector’ report. “I am to point out that the need of an urinal was brought to your authority’s notice in 1905 and again in 1906.”
A vocational curriculum was already pushing to be included. There was some criticism that “marching is not included in the physical exercises. Thimble drill should be taught. Perhaps that was the reason why the inspectors felt the need to say “Hemming stitches should be larger and more distinct on the right side of the hem.” I know, it is hard to believe that such slackness had a home! Shameful!
Intruders? In September 1979 the head was “very much annoyed by boys from the works.” The feeling then as now was that you must deal with such issues on your own.
Teachers’ attendance? One teacher was away with toothache which became a “gathered face” (probably an abscess). The head had to go into the classroom to cover.
The Curriculum? It has always been a big issue. Children had to learn songs like Tiny Little Snowflakes and prepare recitations such as The Little girl who would not say please and I love little pussy, about which I must maintain a dignified silence.
Bilingualism? Lots of the children struggled though because most of them came from Welsh-speaking homes and lessons were almost entirely in English, apart from half an hour a week right up until 1913.
As far as Collective worship is concerned, the log book shows that inspectors insisted that The portion of scripture read must be recorded every day
What about resources?  There are but three desks in the school so that these children have to write on copy books in relays. Just think. A real opportunity for Working with Others was missed there.

Two Marys

A local school is closing. All that it represents will be consigned to history. Cwm School, a warm and productive place, will cease to be in September after over 130 years.
I have been able to look at the School Log books which act as a record of the history of the school and they are so fascinating. They were written by the head teacher and record the daily activity of Cwm Board School Infants Department.
And they open a window on professional lives that were not a great deal different from our own. The anxieties and the pressures haven’t changed much, especially when it comes to Inspection.
First of all some background. Some of the classes in the school were taken by pupil teachers who worked largely as apprentices. They took charge of classes themselves but also had examinations of their own, with a requirement for example to complete recitations of 100 lines of Paradise Lost or Shakespeare’s King John. Their teaching performance was a focal point of the inspection process since they had to achieve certain standards or the school’s budget was reduced. In 1879 the two pupil teachers started to cause concern, Mary Ann Hughes and Mary Jane Davies.
Mary Ann was first in trouble when she was cautioned for neglecting her home lessons and thus failed the inspection. Clearly not a girl for working at home. Perhaps she had better things to do. But as a teacher at any time in history, if you can’t come to terms with the preparation then you will struggle.
At the start of 1880 it was Mary Jane who was in trouble. She hadn’t come to terms with this teaching business either. The School Examiner Frederick Cole wrote in the school log book
Found Mary Jane Davies in charge of a small class in the entrance porch working crochet – a thing forbidden in Board School. She knew she was doing wrong, for she attempted to hide the work under her handkerchief.
Oh dear. Same trouble, different times. Today it is mobile phones. Thus in the next inspection she was told that she must improve. Sadly, Mary Ann failed again. You could hardly say it was going well though.
A year later the log book says their classes “showed a little laxity in discipline, the children being inattentive and talkative.” It was ever thus it seems to me but Inspectors have never liked it. Their assessment was very clear. Mary Jane “passed an unsatisfactory examination” and if she didn’t improve and failed the next inspection again, then the school would receive a lower grant, since they would in effect be employing an unqualified teacher. As always when money is mentioned then the pressure is cranked up.
A week later in September 1881 the head teacher recorded “Lessons neglected by M. J. Davies” and so Examiner Cole returned to check on standards. Nothing much changes really, does it?  This time he wrote
I regret to remark that I detected M. A. Hughes in a piece of deception during my examination of her class. She told a child the answer to one of the sums given.
A teacher trying to save themselves by inflating pupil performance? It is hard to believe isn’t it? These were clearly troubled times.
The head and the managers of the school were now on a mission. On 8 October 1881 it is recorded that lessons were “unlearnt by Mary Jane Davies and Mary Ann Hughes.” Mary Jane’s response to this pressure was quite simple. She was absent from school for a month.
This left Mary Ann in the spotlight alone. She didn’t learn her history lesson and Examiner Cole was called in and issued her with a caution. Whilst this was going on Mary Jane was dismissed by the school board on 23 December 1881.
This must have created a sense of panic in poor Mary Ann. She was unable to learn the lessons of history; literally so since her history lesson was “unlearnt” three times in May 1882. Examiner Cole said that her class had been “rather imperfectly taught in reading writing and arithmetic.” It is clear that there was not a happy match between school and pupil teacher.  This is a long time before identification n of training needs or bullying tactics were considered at all. No one asked what retraining she had received, No home visits or supportive measures or return to work arrangements. Just an expectation that Mary Jane would get on with it. But obviously she couldn’t. Her attendance became an issue and on Wednesday 4 October she too was dismissed. 
Perhaps it was for the best, who knows, but it is a sad little story. What became of the two Marys? Perhaps I shall never know but I hope that they found a job which better suited them both.

Cwm at War

The First World War did not impact much on Cwm School. They delayed playtime in 1914 so the children could watch soldiers go past on the train. At Christmas 1915 they held a concert and a collection in aid of wounded soldiers and on 17 July 1919 the school was closed for a “Peace Celebration,” but generally the ordinary life of the school went on. However the Second World War was different. It reached out into communities and homes, threatening children and families.
The references in the log book begin even before war is declared. On 4 October 1938 Miss Rees went to the Guildhall to be shown how to work out “the size of mask (gas) suitable for each school child.”
These are chilling words, confirming the fear that everyone carried with them into the conflict, the fear of  poison gas.
Of course normal school life continued for the children who are usually untroubled by world events. But then the summer holidays in 1939 were extended to the end of September because of the “declaration of war between England, France and Poland and Germany.” Simple words which were to have  a huge impact.
At first of course, nothing happened at home. The school bank was paid out at Christmas as always (more than £300 in total), attendance was disrupted by epidemics of measles and chicken pox, the school nurse turned up to inspect the children’s heads and another one came to weigh the children who get free school milk.
But the Whitsun holidays in 1940 were cancelled owing to the “invasion of Holland and Belgium.” And suddenly the war became horribly real.
The air raid warnings began. On 10 July 1940 there was a raid between 10.15 am and 11.00 am which kept the children away from school in the afternoon.  It established a pattern. When the siren sounded during school hours the children either went to the shelter across the road or they ran home if they could. How frightening that must have been.
All raids and incidents are meticulously recorded in the Log Book.  “ARS” is noted (Air Raid Siren) and then “RP” (Raiders Passed.)  Sometimes it might last only 15 minutes. On other occasions the warning might last for almost 2 hours.
Attendance at school  of course was completely disrupted. If the siren sounded during the night the school would open late. This happened constantly through July and into early August. The school repeatedly opened at 11.00 am. Then in September the log says very blandly, “No children came to school as there were unexploded bombs in the neighbourhood.” To us it is impossible to believe that the words children and unexploded bombs could ever appear in the same sentence. But in those times even a small infant school was forced to confront life and death.  Is it a surprise that parents refused to send their children to school? I don’t think so.
This was the very worst time of the war for Cwm Infants School. The planes kept coming and the weather was stormy, ripping slates off roofs during November and December. It must have felt as if the whole universe was hostile. In January 1941 the school was closed
“owing to damage done by the falling of a high calibre bomb which demolished a block of houses next to the Mixed Department during Friday night’s blitz. All rooms suffered some damage.”
These words obscure a human tragedy – of families killed, of bodies found on roofs nearby. Such memories survive in the community even today.
The school was closed for five weeks. But here was no respite. Heavy raids continued until April 1941.
At this point the log book starts to talk about “evacuation”. On 9 April 1941 the school carried out a census.
82 parents were against evacuating their child
32 were for
20 failed to reply
As a result in May 1941, 31 children were evacuated to Llanwrda near Llandovery with a teacher, Miss Rees, who had attended the gas mask instruction. At the back of the log book I found the original Registration Forms for the Evacuation Scheme. Parents signed the front to give permission for their child to be sent to a safer area...with the school party when evacuation is ordered. These scraps of paper bring the whole thing to life. Nine year olds like Iris and Vivian Hancock, William Roberts, Graham Williams and seven year old Peter Donald and Sydney Carter, sent into Carmarthenshire, a place so very different from Bonymaen.
The air raids continued until 14 July 1941 and then stopped. Despite the continuing danger the evacuated children started to drift back home.
In early March 1942 Miss Rees returned from Llanwrda. The threat seemed to have passed and although the sirens sounded again in July, the war left Cwm School alone. The school returned to concerns about the weather and childhood illnesses.
Miss Rees though hadn’t finished with the school log book. She slipped in the playground in a PT lesson and bruised her mouth and gums. Two teeth were loosened.
The war slowly drifted away. When it came back it was in a different form. Mrs Mason , a teacher, had leave of absence because her husband was home on leave and then, finally,  on 8 May 1945 the school was closed for VE celebrations.

Into the Seventies and Eighties

In the final surviving log book from Cwm School we arrive at the Seventies and we can continue to examine issues big and small.
In 1974 the school moved into refurbished buildings, but with a sense of disappointment, especially with the standard of the work. The toilets didn’t flush properly because they were blocked by builder’s rubble. Floor tiles started lifting immediately, the doors were shabby. Not only that, but they had been given an open-plan teaching area and they were not that keen.
There is a constant series of complaints – pipe joints in the larger toilets were constantly parting, the attempt to establish a children’s garden failed because the soil was so poor and it was filled with rocks and stones.
By 1977 much of the work to create the open plan space was reversed. It was no longer the fashion and everyone was much happier. The school “looks less barn-like,” we are told.
But the school was still in a poor condition. The boilers failed at intervals. The temperature in the school dropped to 10˚c in the middle of winter. It was also a time of huge financial difficulties in the public services. The head teacher is called to a meeting in December 1980 by the Director of Education where he described “the current and forthcoming Budget situation facing the education service.” Things never seem to change.
By its very nature the log book records significant events that suddenly change the nature of the school day. For example there was a drama in November 1978 when a child made up a story about a man trying to strangle his sister on her way to school. The police were called and parents were naturally perturbed. However the sister was quite clear that her brother had invented it all. But all these things take time.
Sometimes the log gives the impression that the school was a dangerous place. But these are the things the head had to record. And what makes the record so valuable is that the head teacher, Sylvia Rees, recorded everything in such careful detail.
A boy had an accident with a dog in the yard – he fell and banged his head. A boy put his hand through a pane of glass and escaped without a scratch. But another child in December 1983 lost an eye in an accident with a pair of scissors.
And whilst the diseases of the previous century which filled the earlier records were now more controlled, there was some anxiety about an outbreak of dysentery in April 1986. Previously there had been a period of concern about “5th Disease” (otherwise called “slapped cheek.”)
The book also celebrates the nobility of the ordinary unchanging things of school life –reading tests, trips and visits, school photographs, typewriters serviced, teacher absence, dental inspections.  There is some uncertainty about the most appropriate type of floor polish to use. But the wider world intrudes as it always has done. Immediately after half term in February 1977 a Caretaker’s Strike closed the school for 10 days. Teachers had to report to the church hall where the children on free school meals also reported. At the start of 1979 there were more strikes – first NUPE and then the teacher unions. On 11 May the head teacher herself went on strike for the morning, “according to union wishes.” Strikes continue to be logged through the 1980s. On the other hand we are also told that the staff and children were “thrilled” by the announcement of the engagement of Prince Charles and Lady Diana. They were exciting times.
But however sophisticated we think we are, we have never been immune from the weather. The school is sometimes closed due heavy snow and teachers have to report to their nearest school. In “dreadful wind and rain” doors and windows were broken. A member of staff was “marooned in West Cross” by heavy rain.
The school started to change rapidly. Education became more electronic. First of all, it was tape recorders and over- head projectors. Then in 1983 computers start to appear, bringing with them considerable training needs. The head teacher herself took an important lead both in the school and across the authority.
But of course this electronic equipment made all schools, Cwm included, more vulnerable to break-ins and these are recorded, along with acts of vandalism. On one occasion, liquid detergent was squeezed all over the floor. On 4 July 1979 there was a break-in when stationery was stolen and a message was left behind in chalk on a board – “Thank you for all the stuff.” In 1978 trees had been vandalised leaving 11 stumps poking dangerously from the ground.
One of the consequences of the break-ins was that when they had a Christmas Fayre in 1982 the parents were concerned about keeping their things in school the night before. Mr. Ford, “a karate expert” volunteered to be on duty in school all night. In 1983 a child repeatedly brought stolen goods to school, like hacksaw blades and drills. Following an intrusion in October 1985 the record remarks “Our goldfish are dead.” Shotguns were apparently fired at windows during the weekends. In October 1987 a used petrol bomb was found close to the nursery.
In November 1984 an inspector involved in a survey of Special Education had his car broken into and “valuable tapes were stolen.”  Of course nothing can condone such actions but even the most generous of teachers could not resist a small smile at the thought of a precious selection of specially chosen Country and Western Hits rejected and unravelling themselves in the gutter.
Throughout the record there are indications of the professionalism of teachers and their identification with the community in which they worked. The annual trip to Penscynor Wildlife Park always included a picnic which often took place back in the school hall due to inclement weather. In 1977 the log book tells us that “The PTA paid for the trip and most of the food. The teachers provided the food for the children in their own groups.”
Of course schools have always been part of the social fabric. There is another example of the professionalism of teachers comes from July 1983.
“This morning it came to light that a child in the reception class had marks on her back which were not there the day before, when she paddled in Brecon.”
A home visit was made by the head teacher and the deputy.
“We spoke to the mother and father, and father immediately and readily admitted that this was the result of his having hit her on the previous evening, when mother was out. Father quickly thanked us for calling.”
The next day the mother brought the child to school.
“We were told the father had been told to pack his bags and leave the house, because it had happened on previous occasions.”
Whether he did or not, the log book doesn’t say. But it is a small example of what it is that teachers do. That sense of  professional responsibility and human decency is there in all the log  books right from the very start of the first volume.
Sometimes life can bring us full circle. There is an entry from March 1983. Sylvia Rees records that she went to the funeral of her mother in law, who had been born in 1890 and who had been pupil herself in the school in the previous century.
The legal requirement to maintain such a log book ended in June 1999 and with ending the future lost an unrivalled window into the past.

The Punishment Book

I am so glad we don’t have such a thing today. The book speaks of a more brutal time – “A Record of Cases of Corporal Punishment” – as it tells us on the inside cover. The one I have found in Cwm School dates from 1959 and what strikes you first of all is the range of misdemeanours which were deemed worthy of physical punishment. In some cases it seems disproportionate and certainly in some completely unproductive.
The first entry concerns Vivian Thomas who was a persistent truant, for which he received two strokes of the cane. Many of the other entries concern more serious offences, such as bullying. Some families appear repeatedly, as well as some individuals. Clearly as a deterrent the effect of the cane or the slipper was limited. And of course all the victims are boys.
Vivian came back for more when he was punished for bullying two pupils, one of whom suffered “severe lacerations” to the wrist. In brackets after his name it says “This child is very naughty.”
He wasn’t the only repeat offender.
One boy kept getting himself into trouble over a period of about 4 months. He seemed to have a particular problem with a lunchtime supervisor. Swearing at her, then locking her out of the school at lunchtime, and being found in possession of a knife taken from the Dining Room – and using it, though we are not told what he actually did with it. Damage to the drinking fountain in such circumstances was perhaps a step too far. As a result he was given two strokes of the cane.
James got himself into trouble for fighting with pencils in class, “resulting in a pencil being driven into Mark Lewis’ hand.” For this he was suspended. For “indiscipline to the class teacher” Paul received “one slap on the buttocks with a gym slipper.” His friend had one stroke of the cane “in the presence of his mother” for throwing a stone and breaking two front teeth of a boy with the unfortunate name of Dean Stone.
Swearing (or “dirty language”) and smoking are common misdemeanours. In fact two boys aged 9 were caught smoking after stealing four bottles of milk and thumping another boy. One of them “spoke truth.” He received one stroke. His accomplice, Jeffery, at first lied about it, so he received “one stroke to persuade and one as a punishment.”
Sadly he was back for more a couple of weeks later. Jeffery was part of a gang of boys who set upon Stanley. But then Stanley had his turn a couple of months later when he himself was caned for truancy.
It would be wrong to think that this was a violent school. There are, in fact, few entries, no more than four per year. But violence was certainly rewarded with a violent punishment. And the same names keep cropping up for the same offences.  It is hard to see what good it did. I imagine that the cane was regarded as an occupational hazard. For some of the boys it certainly didn’t modify their behaviour.  It just reinforced the fact that the exercise of physical power is the way to achieve what you want.
Of course it can be dangerous to judge the past by the standards we employ today, but I know that I am happier having worked in schools during more enlightened times.