Old_Cliftonian_Mag_2011

Hardcastle became “Hall Warden”.
Proceedings were initiated at each meal
when he struck a table (twice) with a
substantial cylindrical piece of wood
of uncertain origin. The moment was
always eagerly awaited by the hungry
multitude and in an end of term
production one of the all-time Great
Cliftonian Puns was born. Two boys
appeared as “The Western Brothers”,
who were then just approaching the
pinnacle of their fame as Variety Artists,
and recited as follows:
…astronomers torn ’twixt hope and fear,
When, oh when, will Cassiopeia?
(“Cassy appear”)
If ever a building became multi-purpose
this was it. Lectures, House Plays,
Recitals, Boxing and Orchestra practice
all took their turn here. Because the
State School science facilities were
only available in the afternoon on
Wednesdays, that morning became
a half-holiday. Things soon settled
down to a routine; but just for a
while, perhaps for the first term and
a half, the school’s reins were a touch
loose. The Establishment, doubtless
suffering from disorientation and acute
organisational indigestion, had not got
around to issuing new rules to fit every
new circumstance. All this was highly
welcome to my age-group (still in my
first year).
High cliffs were there for the climbing;
nobody had yet forbidden it. Near the
top of one granite face I gave myself
a very severe fright in these early
stages. I became stranded 200 feet
up a cliff, unwilling through incipient
Hartland Hotel.
vertigo to descend, and able eventually
to surmount a grassy overhang only
with the utmost difficulty and much
expenditure of adrenalin. No ropes; no
supervision – and no common sense!
Surf-bathing, highly dangerous at most
local beaches and at almost every stage
of the tide, was not immediately brought
into the category of activities which
must be undertaken under the direct
supervision of a Master. In any case the
Gulf Stream appeared to me to have
overlooked this coastline and I felt no
sense of loss by bathing only in the large
sea-filled swimming pool below our
headland cliff.
On the other side of the Haven was the
Breakwater. At high tide shallow waves
would swirl across the broad flat top –
perhaps ten yards wide – of
this massive structure which
stood some half a mile to
seaward of the town. It ran
between a rocky complex
at the river mouth and
the foot of Efford Down
cliff. Enormous fun was to
be had in dodging these
incursions of bubbling
water and gaining the
safety of the large rock
at the other end, a rock
surmounted by a flagpole.
Several weeks passed before
Authority discovered this
hazardous practice and
wisely put a stop to it.
In a way that granite
breakwater, about a
hundred yards long, with
gently sloping sides, was a
focal point to which the eye
was always drawn. It marked the end
of England; the last man-made feature
between Bude and America. It somehow
“completed the set”, with its triangular
anchor of a rock, some twenty feet high,
at the seaward end. Beyond that ran
a spur of rocks on top of which stood
a stake supporting a barrel (“Barrel
Rock”). And then the Atlantic. One
morning the School awoke to the sight
of the Clifton Flag fluttering bravely at
the breakwater masthead. A high degree
of security concerning the identity of
the perpetrator of this stirring deed
was maintained, but it was eventually
attributed to a South Town boy called
Shinner. It was perhaps feared that the
School Authorities might be held to be in
some way “in contempt of Urban District
Council” by this unauthorised display
of Cliftonian chauvinism. Nevertheless
a memorable couplet soon became
current:
All ran fast, but none ran faster
Than the aged Harbourmaster.
At first there were rumours (soon
dispelled) that fagging was to be
abolished. In these heady early days
a kind of intangible mixture of a
pioneering and a holiday spirit was
abroad. It culminated at the end of the
first term in a highly successful Musical
Variety Show presented in the adjacent,
modern cinema. This boasted a green
tiled roof and an auditorium and a
tiny stage. The show, which had Scout
Jamboree overtones, was directed with
great flair by Martin Hardcastle. Several
masters starred. The occasion for all
this was the need acutely felt by the
School Authorities to undertake some
form of Public Relations exercise. Inter
20 the CLIFTON MAGAZINE 2011