I was the last Head boy at Holm Leigh, Arclid Hall in 1969. The school moved to Arclid Hall from Buxton in 1959 and I started there in 1964. The school suffered from falling pupil numbers and finally closed in 1969 with less than 30 boys. The school Headmaster was Mr Fallows and he had constant health problems in the last few years of the school.
I went back there a few years ago with my wife and the receptionist at the business that bought the hall was kind enough to show me around.
I first went there to board, in 1969. My parents used to put me on the train in Leeds on my own to be met by Mrs Fallows at Crewe with a change at Stockport and Stalybridge from the age of 8. Can you imagine any parent doing that now !!
I was at Holm Leigh, Arclid Hall too.
I started in 1966 in the lovely Miss Pink's class and left in '69 when it closed down. It was a fantastic little school if a bit eccentricly run perhaps.
It had a passionate music teacher, Tony Barnes, who made me join the choir. I got to sing anthems by Tallis and Byrd and we joined in a performance of Bach's Christmas Oratorio in Buxton (or was it Belper). Bill Fallows' sons got me translating Cicero at the age of 9 and discovering Damon Runyon and Roald Dahl. We put on plays by Shakespeare and Bernard Shaw (hard with such a small pool to choose from I imagine - even I was 2nd Soldier in St Joan) and I even had a patch of soil (which we called a "garden") to plant nasturtiums and marigolds in.
i remember the house having a very impressive staircase in the entrance hall and being surrounded by magnificent trees.
I can also still remember the "latin" grace the the prefects use to recite before meals. I had no idea what the mangled words meant but I just looked up what it sounded like and I think it must have been "Oculi Omnium" which it turns out is from Psalm 145:15. Who knew? ;-)
For a very small school it really punched above its weight. I didn't much like boarding school after it closed and I move on to other places, but for me to have such very fond memories of a place I was sent away to at the age of 7 it must have been pretty special!
I have thought of going back to take a look. I used to be able to see the school from the M6 when I passed it going South, but with time the trees have grown and it has faded out of view. there is a metaphor there perhaps?
I was trying to remember who you, the last head boy there, were. A Grove maybe?