Dales Diary: the tale of the great 1939 Barnard Castle April Fool, Anita's book to mark 400th anniversary of Wolsingham Grammar School and the grumpy mill owner who triggered a Cotherstone 'flour-rush'

The special meal was to be served to celebrate the opening of new council offices.

Full details dropped through the letterboxes of the chosen ones in the Barnard Castle area in March 1939.

The urban council was about to take over Woodleigh, an impressive detached house, as its headquarters. This formal feast was to be the first event held there.

Woodleigh pictured today

But the distinguished guests were puzzled by the printed menu, starting with Thin Soup from Stoney Keld. This was a spring which gave the town its water supply.

Next came the fish course, with sticklebacks from the council's reservoir, topped with minnow sauce.

Other delights included razzle dazzle pudding with claptrap sauce, waste time fritters, crusts of old Cotherstone cheese, and coffee made with dandelions from the cobbles.

The date of the dinner? April 1.

It was an elaborate April Fool hoax by a jovial local businessman, William F Smith, who apparently felt, like some other folk, that the council was getting above itself by taking over such a grand property.

He was helped by John Wiseman, a council member. Among speakers listed were Mr Pat O'Back, Professor Donowt, Mr Dangle le Plum, Mr Twist-Oliver and the Official Receiver in Bankruptcy.

Among songs to be rendered were 'I dreamed I Dwelt in Marble Halls in an Old Fashioned Town'.

Many residents enjoyed the joke but the council ignored it. Woodleigh, built of Dunhouse stone in 1872 for Joseph Dixon, a wealthy citizen, had been bought and given to the council by its clerk, J. Ingram Dawson, who was also a local solicitor.

The

J. Ingram Dawson, the rascally lawyer

The council had previously used four small offices in different parts of the town, with staff having to walk between them carrying documents and arranging meetings.

But this meant it could do all its business under one roof. The real official opening came two months later, with a modest afternoon tea and one speech.

The house was used by the council until it merged with two others to form Teesdale Council, and later was passed on to Durham County Council.

Part of it is now used by the Fitzhugh Library, and there is an information point attached to a window, giving details of local services.

Dawson, who called himself a rascally lawyer because he loved defending poachers who raided the estates of bigwigs, was able to charge money for the use of the property despite it being called a gift.

Years later he was said to have done well out of the deal. An area around the house was turned into a resting place for old folk, with park benches from which there were fine views, and it is still used as a public open space.

Will there be any such elaborate hoaxes in the dales on Tuesday?

Few pupils can be prouder of their school than Anita Atkinson is of the one she attended.

She is utterly devoted to everything about Wolsingham Grammar School - its history, standard of teaching and success of its scholars.

So it is fitting that she has written a book to mark its 400th anniversary. The volume of around 500 pages is due to come out at Easter.

Wolsingham Grammar SChool. The lower school wa built in 1911

When the famous seat of learning was launched in 1614 on instructions from the Bishop of Durham, its aim was "to teach poor boys in the rudiments of learning and the Christian religion."

One early pupil was James Craggs, who became an MP and did good work but was put in the Tower of London for a time for not paying taxes.

In the 1700s one headmaster was Peter Ionns, whose daughter Janet became world famous for writing books about how to navigate at sea with the help of stars and was awarded a state pension.

Among distinguished former pupils is Harry Beevers, hailed as a leading plant physiologist in America, and honoured by having a laboratory named after him at Oxford University.

Denys Morgan was in a team of physicists who won a Nobel peace prize in 1985 for their work on the prevention of nuclear war. He also wrote an Interpol handbook on forensic science.

Brian Foster, an internationally honoured physics professor at Oxford University, was widely noted for showing links between violin playing and the theory of physics.

Michael Temple became managing director of Heathrow Airport and was responsible for Terminal 5.

At first only boys were admitted to the school, and at times they could board, but in 1903, when Joseph Backhouse became head, girls were accepted.

During his 31 years in charge Backhouse often stated that the native qualities of dalesfolk meant they could do well in any sphere they chose.

"I believe he was right as a huge number of Wolsingham pupils have gone on to be a success in many professions," said Anita.

"As well as being recognised nationally they often play a leading role in life in their villages all over the dale."

When she was young her elder sister Betty did well in exams to gain a place at Wolsingham and enthused about her time there.

When Anita passed exams to gain a place Betty was thrilled and bought her all the equipment she needed - but then died suddenly at the age of 27 while expecting a baby.

"I was so upset about her death that I started badly at the school and never did as well as I should have done," she admits now.

She spent her early working life in the control room of the county fire service. But her two daughters and son all did well at the school.

Ruth is a natal hypnotherapist, Jimmy is a teacher in Shildon and Gemma is working towards a doctorate in educational and clinical psychology.

Anita, whose husband John is a farmer, is a respected editor of the Weardale Gazette.

She is well known for her admiration of the royal family and has rooms in her home decorated with tributes to them.

Anita Atkinson

There will be a big party at the school on July 19 and 20 to mark the anniversary. All former pupils are being invited with their families.

Anita's sister Maisie also wanted a place at the school but didn't quite make it. She is now 76 but, so it's claimed, still hasn't forgiven the authorities for not taking her.

A grumpy old mill owner called Swales launched one of Teesdale's early co-operative schemes.

His aim was to line his own pockets but he also helped many poor families, for a time at least.

He fell out with the Parkinsons, tenants of his mill at Cotherstone, as he felt they were making too much profit and he wanted a share of it.

They moved out in the early 1850s and he could find nobody to take their place.

He was left with an idle property until he hit on an idea. Weavers in Barnard Castle were protesting about low pay and the rising price of flour and bread.

They could hardly afford to feed their children. So Swales persuaded some to set up a new society to run the mill.

He assured them they would get flour and bread at cost price, cheaper than they were paying in shops, and would also make profits after a time. Around 30 people signed up and paid £1 apiece. Dick Bradley became their secretary and they held meetings in Joe Lee's Temperance Hotel.

They hired a miller to lead the project and were soon doing brisk business.

Peaceful Cotherstone became busier, with horse-drawn carts taking in wheat bought in Barnard Castle, Darlington and Richmond markets.

Cotherstone: 'Flour boom'

Then they took out flour to be sold in three shops. It was cheaper than other flour. It was strictly cash so there was no danger of customers buying on tick and not paying -- a problem faced by many shopkeepers.

Other millers had to drop their prices by tuppence a stone, so bread became cheaper for everyone.

Contributors to the society got their supplies at cost price so they were happy and after a year they were each given a stone of meal and stone of flour as a dividend.

Dale residents could buy their flour and bread more cheaply than before so they were happy. Cotherstone folk could go to the mill and buy supplies at special prices so they were happy.

But as the mill grew busier year by year members started asking for cash as well as annual perks.

It caused arguments, with officials wishing to build up a solid reserve of money to expand the business, and members feeling they deserved an instant handout.

A meeting called to discuss it ended in a squabble, so in 1863 the society was disbanded. Swales, described as not the most agreeable of mortals, was left with a silent mill once more.

But his idea for this kind of co-operative spread to Shildon and then Darlington, where they ran successfully for some years.