HOW many times have we heard that old saying: 'never visit the old places of your youth. remembering my first sight of Goldings I was being transported in the back of the Dr. Barnardo's lorry with two other boys as it turned we had view of an open air swimming pool on one side and from the other side our new home Goldings that had the look of an old Victorian Orphanage. This was the place the Matron had told us "if you fail the eleven plus Goldings was a place where we would be sent to be knocked into place ready for the outside world.

Some thirty years later I was driving to Hertford to a boiler Breakdown when I passed the old lodge on the road built by the owner of Goldings in Victorian times. I completed the job and on my return I stopped my van by the old lodge and walked to the first bridge, my thoughts ran back to the days I walked from Goldings, past the dead centre as we used to call it, then past the Railway Station, Hertford North, then past the Hospital, then into Hertford Town Centre, (half dead) spent your pocket money, then back again via the shortcut.

I was then at the first bridge, with its balusters and looking over I remembered fishing on the riverbank for carp. Then I looked to the left and viewed through the trees, you could still see traces of where the old river swimming pool used to be on the second river. Then over the next bridge, remembering making rafts to get onto the small island. I started to whistle to an old school hymn as I walked along, Now as I start upon my chosen way, In all I do, my thoughts, my work, my play; Grant as I Promise, Courage, Lord for me To be the best, the best the best that I can be… with the tune still playing in my mind I looked to the right the tennis courts where we used to train for Wimbledon, the swimming pool that had pea (pee!) green water by the end of the season, how we ever didn’t catch anything I will never know, but now all is overgrown and gone it had been used as a rubbish tip. The the old Victorian building in the far distance seemed to beckoned me. I passed the old school building to the left, with the old gym to the right then stopped at the stable yard, which held the boot making and painting departments. I remember being told that a member of staff Mr. W. Battell a House master of Cairns, who was killed during an air raid in 1940 on this spot of the stable yard.

Something was missing. Gone are the sounds of 300 plus boys, masters and staff. The sounds from the printing presses had long fallen silent, the smell of fresh cut timber that used to emanate from the carpenters shop, the walled garden where I spent many a day turning the sod. The smell was different and remembering the waste that was burnt on the top field trench, it smouldered most of the time and could be smelt most days, mingled with the smells of Herefordshire country air. All these things and more were the very lifeblood of Goldings. Now it had been drained and put out.

Knowing its last days had arrived and having reached the old building, via the hole in the wall I found the heart of the house and grounds in decay. I looked up at Cairns House, the dormitory windows that I had painted, re-glazed, then to the tower and remembered the fun and games we used to have with the ghost of the butler who was said to have walked the dorms in search of his left foot each full moon.

I walked to the centre of the parade ground where those in the Army Cadet Corps of Drums would practice prior to an event. Carnivals were great fun to take part in - the figure of eight sprang to mind, which would get a good round of applause from the crowds watching if we pulled it off, and laughs if we bumped into one another, which I’m glad to say did not happen very often. All the Remembrance Services we had attended, to hear the Last Post would bring a lump to my throat as we remembered all those who had lost their lives in two World Wars - many Goldings boys – then Reveille “Charlie-up” which seemed to have much more feeling than we had heard on any morning, our boys could play some sweet notes which sounded much better in the churches we attended on remembrance day.

The old wooden hut to the edge of the parade ground was still standing which we had used for band practice, and I wondered how long it would survive. How long will it be till people are living within the old manor house built in 1870s this was not the original manor house that was first built much nearer the river Bean in about  1700   Now we are approaching the millennium. But what of the old building? Of course Goldings will regenerate again and have its reveille, but it will never be the same as it was in the years we spent our youth, from 14 years of age to 16 years plus, when it was so full of young life, with unknown paths before us to cross. When we all had the time to do the job properly and were instructed in our chosen trade by craftsmen that had become expert tutors, of which some were old Goldings boys themselves.

© Frank Cooke

Frank Cooke, Cairns House.
Entered Goldings  8th September 1964
Restored working  10th April 1967 Carpenter & Joiner London.