1950s picnic weekend review

Belsay 1950s Picnic
review by Anthony Joisce

Belsay Hall is a neo-classical building that was constructed between 1807 and 1815. It was designed by Sir Charles Monck, who in 1804 set out on a continental trip that was to influence the building of the hall. Sir Charles was particularly impressed by Greek and Roman architecture. This can be clearly seen in the design of the hall. Monck was assisted in his design by architect, John Dobson. The building is a square, and great mathematical care was taken to ensure that this was the case. It overlooks beautiful gardens and landscapes, but after the Second World War, the building was abandoned, and is now in the care of English Heritage.

In August, Belsay drove, danced, sang and marched back in time, to the 1950s. The event, organised by English Heritage, was a traditional 50’s picnic. On entering the grounds the visitor is greeted by shining paintwork, and gleaming chrome. Standing there are three cars, that evoke all kinds of memories; there is an Austin A30, a Morris Minor (apparently in the 1 litre model you could hit 80 downhill, with a tail-wind) and a Riley. All are in such wonderful condition, that it appears they have only recently been bought, and have been used to carry their owners to a picnic in the country.
Further into the grounds is the central green, overlooked by the Hall. The sights, sounds and colours are fantastic. The green is covered with traditional picnic rugs, and families sitting around, enjoying their sandwiches and cakes. Some have opted for the less traditional folding tables and chairs. But this minor inconsistency cannot detract from the gaiety and excitement in the air.

In the centre of the green is a bright red ‘dance-floor’, with a speaker system beside it. Once again this could not take away the sense of the past.  After the war many of the big bands had split up and were replaced by smaller bands. It was at this time that rock’n roll started to gain a foothold. Soon the sound was welcomed by the rebellious youth, and radio stations started playing it. This led to a change in dancing styles. The jitterbug of the forties was taken over, and adapted for jive and swing dancing. The new dance was energetic and colourful, less restrictive, but at the same time, more repetitive.

Music starts to drift from the speaker system and the “Lindy Jazz” dancers take to the floor. The bright red of the women’s dresses, swirling in the sun, and the white shirts of the men, create a spectacular and inspiring sight. You can’t help but tap your feet to the music, and become enthralled by the whirling and spinning of the dancers, drawing you into the world of jive and swing. Some brave members of the audience join in; their steps aren’t right, but nobody seems to mind, the idea of the picnic is to have fun. As the music fades out the dancers slow and step from the dance-floor.

Now there comes the sound of accordion and guitar. It is the musical duo, Harry and Mavis. Both dressed in suitable clothing, they are as much a comedy double act as a musical one. The banter that goes on between songs creates a carnival atmosphere (but it’s like when you go to see a stand up comedian: you can’t remember a word they said). They do songs by Carl Perkins and Lonnie Donnegan, and wonderful renditions of “I do like to be beside the seaside”, “Blue Suede Shoes” and a personal favourite; “Does Your Chewing-gum Lose Its Flavour on the Bed-Post Overnight?” This even has the youngsters clapping, singing along and laughing. Then we move on to a little bit of skiffle; the washboard is brought out and a ‘volunteer’ is chosen to play it. As the jollity of the music comes to an end, a more peaceful pursuit is in order.

We take a short visit into the shaded walls of the hall. The rooms are set out like a Greek or Roman house, around a lighted central space. The air is cool and the columns and stonework, mixed with the intricate metal designs of the upstairs, promote a feeling of dignity and decorum. One can only wonder on the craftsmanship that was employed in its construction.
What would a picnic be like without a walk through the gardens? Sheltered by huge trees are some real surprises. Exotic plants live side by side with indigenous British flora. The garden cuts its way through large rock faces, which give a mysterious, magical feel. As you turn the final corner in the path, there stands the 14th century castle, with a ruined 17th century wing. It is quite spectacular, and to the first-time visitor, quite unexpected; it seems to jump from the trees. Now it is time to return for the final entertainment of the day, so another gentle walk brings us back to the central green, and the presence of an imposing figure.

He is the army sergeant, here to train those who are required to do National Service. The age for joining is lowered considerably; most of the recruits are children, though there are some very enthusiastic adults. It starts with the time honoured “...right then you ‘orrible lot” and is followed by “you is here to be made into soldiers. This is not for your benefit, it is not for my benefit, it is for the benefit of the British army, the finest body of fighting men in the world”. The recruits are instructed to stand in a straight line and training commences with left and right turns. Some get ahead of themselves and execute about turns, and all is momentarily chaotic. Order is swiftly resumed and they move from turning to marching. This is even more of a challenge as the participants try to keep step and swing the correct arm at the right time. Finally they are split into front and rear rank, turned and marched, then finally taught to salute. “Upon the salute you nice people will give a round of applause”, which we duly do. The recruits are dismissed, and as the time approaches for the end of the event, we consider ourselves to be dismissed, and head for home, and back to the present; a wonderfully nostalgic day coming to an end.