Memories of Yorkshire School for the Blind

Look a little closer, however, and you'll notice that not everything in the photograph is as it seems. The children pictured are all blind.

The photographs were taken in 1925, during a trip to Scarborough for children from the Yorkshire School for the Blind, which in those days was based at King's Manor.

One of them shows a dignified-looking man in suit, collar and tie, wire spectacles and homburg hat. That man, who was himself registered blind, was Joseph McElheran, who for many years was a music master at the school, as well as church organist at St Michael le Belfry.

The photographs come from his album and they were brought to us by Joseph's son, David, a retired print administrator who now lives in Rawcliffe.

David, who is sighted, remembers accompanying his father and the blind children on outings to the seaside.

They all went to Scarborough together by train, he recalls. "And they had a great time. They weren't poor little handicapped children. They did everything that sighted children would do– donkey riding, paddling, all the rest of it. They were very ebullient and happy. Quite a few of them didn't even seem to know they were blind."

Children paddling in the sea at Scarborough

The Yorkshire School for the Blind was founded in 1833 in memory of William Wilberforce, the great abolitionist and Yorkshire MP.

"It was decided that the establishment of a benevolent institution would best reflect and honour a man widely known for his own benevolence and the committee appointed to carry out the proposals finally decided upon a school for the education and training of the indigent blind," says an article about the school on the website of the Borthwick Institute.

In 1835 the school moved into King's Manor – the venerable medieval building backing onto Museum Gardens which is now part of the University of York, but which was originally the Abbot of St Mary's house, and later seat of the Council of the North. For many years the Blind School shared the building with Manor School. When that moved to Marygate in 1922, the Blind School expanded to occupy almost the whole of the building. It remained there until it closed in 1956.

Youngsters perform a play in front of the school building

David's father, who studied music at Henshawes School for the Blind in Manchester, came to King's Manor as an assistant music master in 1923. There he met his future wife, Hilda Veale, a fellow teacher who was not blind.

"I think my father was the only blind master," David says.

Joseph and Hilda married in 1928. Their first son John was born in 1929. Two more children followed – David in 1942, and Christine in 1945.

The family lived in Bootham. Being sighted, David and Christine went to local schools: David to Archbishop Holgate's, Christine to Queen Anne's. But they both regularly visited the blind school. It was a boarding school, so masters had to be on duty at evenings and weekends.

"My sister and I regularly visited, particularly when our father was on duty," David says.

The school had a very active music department – in those days, when most blind men trained as basket, brush and mat-makers, music was the only realistic profession open to many blind people, David says.

"There were some very musically talented children at the school. (They) regularly gave concerts to the public and sometimes performed with other local musicians."

The school took blind boys and girls from 'far and wide' – far beyond the bounds of just Yorkshire, David believes. Boys and girls were strictly segregated. "The door to the right of the main entrance was the girls' entrance, but I only have memories of the boy's side and the common rooms."

What he remembers perhaps most vividly is the sheer exuberance of many of the blind pupils.

The boys' playground was in the far courtyard.

"There were swings and climbing frames," David recalls. "They took up all of what is now a grass square. Most boys were quite fearless and played on this equipment every bit as energetically as a sighted child would."

They also played cricket and football.

"To see blind boys tearing around full tilt following a ball, which was a basketwork ball formed round a tin with a stone in it, was an experience. They followed the sound and were remarkably proficient."

The boys' dormitories were on the first floor.

"I can remember boys swinging around the day-room doorpost and jumping several steps down to the half landing of this staircase. I well remember my father shouting a boy's name and bringing him back to the top of the staircase to walk. He always seemed to know who the culprit was."

David also remembers the boys daring him and his sister Christine to go down into the old stone cellars. "They were very spooky."

Every November 5 the school had a firework show in the yard which David and his sister always attended. "It is ironic that more than a few children in those days were blind as a result of firework accidents," he says. At Christmas there were parties to which he and his sister were invited, and carol services which were held in the assembly/organ room.

When the boys left the school, some went to live in a large house called “Dringthorpe” which was in Dringhouses, Tadcaster Road – somewhere beyond where the hospice now stands, David says.

"It is no longer there. They lived there and worked in the workshops at King's Manor. There may have been some workshops at Dringthorpe but I don’t think so. I seem to think that the facility slightly outlived the school, when it closed but I could be wrong.

"By the time the school closed [in 1956] the workshops were operated by York Corporation. I cannot remember whether there were any local employment opportunities for the girls. I recently spoke to a gentleman, whose parents were once superintendents at Dringthorpe, who recalls that they had a truck with a tarpaulin cover and benches in which the workers were transported daily to the King's Manor workshops."