Susan Page kindly sent copies of some documents and photos relating to her late mother, Gillian M Engeland, who went on a school trip to Windsor in 1951.
The brochure and arrangements for the trip:
Some photos of Gillian and her friends on the trip. If you can put names to any of the faces please add a comment at the bottom of the page.
The following reports are from the 1950-51 issue of Chronicle.
The most eagerly anticipated event of the Summer Term was a visit to Windsor, when the school was transported en masse in a special train to the castle, and later filled several boats on a trip down the Thames to Runnymede. Five hundred girls of assorted ages are not a particularly easy group to handle but, to everybody’s relief, and many people’s surprise, everything ran smoothly, and next year’s expedition is already eagerly awaited.
An article later in the same issue provides a symposium of memories from girls of form Lower IV 1 (equivalent to today’s Year 8):
MEMORIES OF WINDSOR
The part of the expedition I remember most was the journey up to the top of the Round Tower. It seemed as if the steps would never come to an end. First there were stone steps and then a spiral staircase which was narrow and dark.
When we did get to the top, it was very windy, but on looking through the battlements we had a most wonderful view for miles around…
I remember the sentries changing guard, their huge, black bear-skins, red jackets and shining boots. The soldiers were inspected by their officer, who gave a sharp command and then the guards moved into new positions, marching smartly as they went…
My most vivid memory is of the chandeliers glistening in the sun, and of the beautiful colours which appeared in them. Another thing which caught the eye was the pattern and colour of the ceilings and carpets…
I remember the trip down the river to Runnymede, and the birds of all shapes and sizes that we saw – brown fluffy ones, smooth white graceful ones, and the little, fat, fussy cygnets who swam in single file behind their mother. Further on we saw a lone ‘fisherman’ with his long, stilt-like legs, as he rose into the air squawking loudly.
Memories that we all share are of aching legs, and of heads filled with pictures and impressions of a very happy and interesting day.