A father's devotion to his daughter - and spite towards her husband - led to a bequest that was pivotal in the history of a private school

IN mid-September 1844, Mary Flounders fell ill in Yarm with tuberculosis. She was 43, and had been married for three years, to Major Arthur Lowe.

Her father, Benjamin Flounders, moved her into his imposing Georgian house beside the bridge in Yarm so that his doctors could treat her. She meant everything to Benjamin – he’d lost two wives and a young son, so she was all he had. The suspicion is that he’d only allowed her to marry so that she could present him with an heir, and, when the final curtain fell on their earthly endeavours, he was planning for them to be buried side by side in Yarm churchyard.

Benjamin was a wealthy Quaker businessman who had, with his kinsmen the Peases of Darlington, invested in the Stockton and Darlington Railway. He’d also inherited a large estate in Shropshire from his mother’s family – in fact, the day Mary fell ill, Maj Lowe was in Shropshire planning a mansion on the 4,000 acres that Benjamin was handing over to them.

The Northern Echo: EIGHTIES CLASSROOM: Miss Maureen Willatt, here teaching in 1981, retired from the prep school after 29 years in 1994
EIGHTIES CLASSROOM: Miss Maureen Willatt, here teaching in 1981, retired from the prep school after 29 years in 1994

The Major rushed back to Yarm, only to discover that his father-in-law had taken over. When Mary died on October 18, 1844, the Major realised that Benjamin would never allow him to inherit anything.

So, in spite, the Major had Mary buried hard up against a wall in Yarm churchyard, thus thwarting Benjamin’s plans to lie for eternity beside his beloved daughter.

Benjamin, though, was not easily defeated. He bought the land on the other side of the wall, and left instructions – and money – for the wall to be demolished on his death so that he could, after all, be laid to rest beside her.

And so it came to pass when he died on April 20, 1846.

But because Mary had not provided an heir, and because Benjamin had effectively disinherited the Major, there was no one to inherit his fortune. Having supported schools throughout his life, he put £45,000 in trust to continue his interest in education after he was gone. At least 20 schools, from Sedgefield to Shropshire, benefitted from his generosity, but the largest beneficiary was the county school in Barnard Castle.

The Northern Echo: SCHOOL FOUNDER: Benjamin Flounders, of Yarm
SCHOOL FOUNDER: Benjamin Flounders, of Yarm

County schools were a new type of school aimed at providing a non-denominational Christian education for the sons of middle class businessmen. The upper classes had their Etons and Harrows, but there was nowhere to train the next generation of entrepreneurs, so the first county schools were begun in Devon and Norfolk.

The third was to be in Barnard Castle – largely because its promoters could tap into a pot of money left by John Balliol in 1229 that had to be spent on education in the town.

In 1882, Benjamin’s trustees added £30,000 to Balliol’s endowment. Benjamin’s money was enough to build the large school in Newgate – the contractor Joseph Kyle, who was knocking up the Bowes Museum next door, was put in charge of construction. The North-Eastern County School, housing 116 boarders and 12 day pupils, opened on February 2, 1886.

But there was still a need for a junior school. About 20 years later, a Miss Mosey acquired Westwick Lodge, a late Victorian villa which was a rugby conversion away from the county school, and turned it into a school for girls and a preparatory school for boys. In 1911, she had 21 boarders living with her there.

The Northern Echo: WESTWICK LODGE: Built in 1890 for Charles Blackett
WESTWICK LODGE: Built in 1890 for Charles Blackett

In 1914, there was drama. “On account of family reasons, Miss Mosey has felt compelled to give up her school at Westwick Lodge in order to reside with her brother in New York,” reported the Teesdale Mercury.

This enabled the county school to take the prep school under its wing, and it took in its first pupils in September 1914. That means it has just finished its 100th school year – and in all that time, despite all of the developments and enlargements, it has only had seven headteachers.

To celebrate the centenary, deputy head Nick Seddon has compiled a book of Barney memories. Here are three, chosen as the book fell open:

Fire extinguisher mayhem

The first class teacher in 1914 was Miss Theodora Bell, known as Topsy, and the head was Fred Boardman. J Mellanby, who admitted to being “exceedingly precocious”, was among the first intake.

“Miss Bell rapped me over the knuckles with the edge of a ruler, her usual reaction when a pupil did something wrong,” he recalled, “and I said ‘damn you, Topsy’.

“I was taken straight off to Fred Boardman but as he was not in, I had to wait in the corridor and that gave me an opportunity for further mischief. There was a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall, and after I had read the instructions about 50 times and still Fred had not come, I decided to put them into effect and was just carrying the first of them out when he arrived.

“After a lecture on the misuse of fire extinguishers, I was then asked why I was there, and the whole thing came out, for which I received six strokes of the cane on the behind.”

A bird in the pocket...

The prep school has had its fair share of eccentric teachers, including John Hay, who was the first male class teacher when he was appointed in the 1960s.

Simon Bray, a preppie in the early 1970s, said: “I remember one day noticing that his old Barbour jacket was moving during assembly. On further investigation, it transpired that his inside pocket had been turned into a makeshift nest for an injured blackbird that John had rescued on his way to school. It stayed there for two days.”

Explosive teacher

Alan Chadwick, who became head in 1976, was renowned for attempting to blow up the science labs, particularly when Bonfire Night approached. He would show pupils how different substances burned with different colours, gradually putting them all together to create a homemade firework.

A pupil from the late 1970s – days before health and safety was a prime concern – remembered how there was a profoundly deaf boy, Paul Brown, in the class. As the firework lesson reached its climax, and the bang was added to the mix, the pupils were ordered to leave the lab for the sake of their ears, and look in through the windows.

“Paul, however, would be fine, Chadders told us, and so Paul sat at the back of the room as Alan lit the fuse and joined us outside. There was what I can only say was the loudest explosion I have ever heard and the lab immediately filled with smoke.

“After the extractor fans had done their work, we timidly made our way back into the classroom to find Paul, face blackened, sitting there, completely shell shocked.

“When asked if he was ok, Paul responded simply: ‘Sir, I heard that!’”

Barnard Castle Prep School – 100 Not Out costs £10 and is available from the school. Email prep@barneyschool.org.uk for more details