'CHAPELS IN CADBURY HEATH' written by Roy King
In the 19th Century local people, mostly labourers, made high sacrifices to raise funds for the construction of chapels, in support of the Methodist Movement, inspired by John Wesley. For many, this became the only acceptable source of social contact outside of their workplace.
It must come as something of a surprise to the visitor or new resident to find that Cadbury Heath possesses three sizeable nonconformist Chapels almost literally within a 'stones throw' of each other. As any of the buildings could have comfortably accommodated the entire adult population of the area at the time that they were built, they cannot have been built to serve the demands of would-be worshippers. Nobody ever seems surprised that the same area for a long time also supported two pubs, also very near to each other.
The former Wesleyan Chapel in Tower Road South (now a Roman Catholic Church, 'Mary Help of Christians') was built in 1833. The other large chapel in Tower Road South was built in 1858 as a United Methodist Free Church. The two chapels are a mute reminder of a sad chapter of 19th Century history when Methodism was rent asunder, not by any question of doctrine or theology, but over methods of Church government.
The former U.M.F.C. chapel, for long called Warmley Tower Ebenezer Methodist Church, is now known simply as Warmley Tower Methodist Church - a symbol of the unity achieved when most branches of Methodism reunited in 1932. The third chapel is the Independent Methodist Chapel in Mill Lane. This chapel was founded by a small group of worshippers who left the Wesleyan Chapel and started to meet in the upper room of a mill which for many years stood on the banks of Siston Brook in Mill Lane. From the mill the group moved to an adjoining rank of cottages, eventually building their present chapel. The Mill Lane congregation eventually joined the Independent Methodist Connexion. There were a small number of Independent Methodist Chapels in the Bristol area, but their real strength lay in the north of England.
It would be idle to deny that these various divisions within Methodism did not lead to bitterness amongst those involved, the principles were very important to them. The protagonists on both sides were honourable men and women doing what they believed to be right. Hone of this prevented the chapels from becoming important centres of village life; indeed, apart from the public houses they were, until fairly recent times, the only community provision accessible to 'ordinary people'.
Apart from the religious significance of the chapels in the life of the area they were to provide an amazingly wide range of entertainment and 'self-improving' activities which did much to broaden the horizons of the families connected with the chapels, which in turn was reflected in the wider community.
Perhaps the two chapel organisations which had the greatest impact on the outside world were the Sunday School and the Bands of Hope, largely because they catered for children. Children did not have to have parents attending the chapel to belong to either of these organisations, which resulted in both having a circle of supporters far wider than the chapels' nominal membership.
This meant that the two important annual events organised by the chapels, the Sunday School Anniversary Service and the Whit Monday Procession received widespread support from the community because they touched almost every family. This ensured that the chapels would be full to overflowing on the occasion of the Sunday School Anniversary.
Each little girl would have a new dress, and each little boy would be bedecked in his best (and only) suit. These clothes would have been purchased at considerable personal sacrifice by the parents who, come what may, weren't going to see their child at a disadvantage on this red letter day. The Sunday School Anniversary Service was also the occasion for the distribution of 'prizes' to the Sunday School scholars. 'Prizes' were a reward for good attendance and usually were in the form of books. The books would be of an 'improving' nature and would be purchased in bulk from a Bristol religious bookshop. There would be a bookplate bearing the name of the Sunday School and the child's name and the reason for the award. Many survive as treasured family mementoes.
Many of those filling the chapel would be the parents and grandparents who would probably not otherwise enter the building except for baptisms, weddings and funerals. The same could be said of the Whitsun Processions when many of those thronging the pavements to watch the bands, banners and marchers go by would have little formal connection with the chapels.
The compensation for the children after the long, tiring Whit Processions, which covered quite a few miles, were in the substantial teas which followed. The tea was an event which required much planning beforehand; there were numerous meetings to discuss its costs and contents, ie. , how much cake, what sort, and from whom it should be purchased. Following the tea, the participants would retire to a nearby field, loaned by a sympathetic farmer where the band, now refreshed, would play until sunset.
For the children, games would be organised, the most popular part of which was 'scrabbling' for sweets thrown among the throng by the Sunday School Superintendent. The chapels would also often provide the only opportunity for local children to spend a day at the seaside. It was often important for children to maintain a good attendance record at the Sunday School, as a free outing was often conditional on this.
The earlier outings were often by horse drawn brakes to Weston-Super-Mare, which must have been a tiring and often uncomfortable experience. The brakes were eventually superceded by hard tyred, open motor coaches which sound as if they might have been even more uncomfortable. The children, at least, would probably have been too excited to have paid much attention to the discomforts of travel on the way to the seaside, and probably too tired to notice them on the way home.
The-chapels, constantly short of funds, also organised a series of 'Special Services' and concerts to attract larger than usual attendances. One papular service, however, was held, the purpose of which was to raise money and collect produce for the local Cossham Hospital in pre National Health Service days. These were known as 'Egg and Flower Services' and were widely and generously supported.
Although there are still flourishing Sunday Schools the number of adults attending the chapels has dropped no doubt due to the competing influence of television, easier travel, etc. It might seem that from a position of great influence that the chapels are now in decline. They stand as reminders of the simple faith and self sacrifice of 'ordinary' people. Who will be bold enough to say that their task is finished?
"CADBURY HEATH ADULT SCHOOL AND THE MALE VOICE CHOIR" memories of Wavey Willmott
The Adult School Movement uas a non-sectarian society aimed at the self-inprovement of men only. It also encouraged sport and cultural pursuits.
Following the First World War, the Y.M.C.A. that is now, was erected. It was a galvanised hut (ex-Army surplus), in Cadbury Heath Road, which was considered at that time would not be a building which would last too long but, as can be seen, is still in existence.
The hut was used, first and foremost, on Sunday mornings for the Cadbury Heath Adult School. The Adult School was for males only and this was considered peculiar to the area, as the only other social meeting places were either one of the Chapels and/or one of the local inns. The meetings were held primarily for.discussing social and political issues of the day. Guest speakers were invited from Bristol and Bath, and also from around the more immediate area, to join the discussion for that day, making for quite a lively affair.
Mr. Joseph Hall, who used to come from Weston, Bath, was the president, and there were also regulars from Bristol. From these discussion groups the Cadbury Heath Male Voice Choir originated. Mr. Spicer became the first conductor and then my father (William England) took over. They then moved from the hut to the Ebenezer Methodist Church as a venue for the Choir and to practise.
There were about 40-50 male members of the Choir. About 36 Sundays a year they would travel all around Bristol taking their services to other areas. Included in their itinery were the Eisteddfod at Ruardean in the Forest of Dean. Here they won a second place in a singing competition which was quite an achievement as they were competing against many Welsh Male Voice Choirs. This competition was held in the open air and they were singing unaccompanied to a piece of music called 'Valient Way'. They also competed in the Kingswood Eisteddfod (1952) where they had a lot of success against some Welsh choirs, and again came second singing an Elgar piece, 'Feasting I Watch'.
Around this time the local Labour candidate, Godfrey Elton (later Lord Elton) who stood for Gloucestershire South and was an Oxford lecturer, became very interested in the Choir and invited them to come to Oxford and tour the colleges, which they did and were very well received..
On Sunday evenings in the Central Hall, Bristol, after the religious service, they used to have what they called 'Sunday Evening at Eight'. Here the Choir would assemble and do a Musical Evening. Bert Wilmot was the pianist for the Choir and my Father would invite the Organist to play on the very beautiful organ there and to accompany the Choir and piano, making for a most enjoyable evening. Also before, and during, the Second Vorld War, there used to be a wonderful little cinema on Whiteladies Road (not far from the 'Whiteladies' cinema which still stands today) this was called the Triangle Cinema. Here the Choir were also invited to go on a Sunday to give a Musical Evening. The Choir is still in existance, but new members are needed.
"CADBURY HEATH SCHOOL" memories of Betty Lock
Cadbury Heath County Primary School stands at the junction of Wraxall and Cadbury Heath roads, For Many years it was the only school in the village and it catered for children of all ages. Built in 1892 by the Oldland School Board it replaced a former Methodist day school at Cock Road Kingswood. When the new school opened the pupils marched from Cock Road to join it. Many generations of local people have been taught at Cadbury Heath School and remember it with gratitude.
I well remember my mother telling me that I badly wanted to go to school before I reached the age of 3 years old. The reason for my keenness was that my boy cousins already attended, although they were older than I was, I wanted to be with them. At the tender age of 3 years I was finally given permission to attend Cadbury Heath School.
Miss Bryant was in charge of the babies class and every Friday we had to repeat 'It's Friday, Friday, keep your nose tidy.'
Memories of Miss Minnie Webb come to mind, she often carried a thick cane and woe betide us if we misbehaved.
Another memory of school days that I shall never, ever forget - Remembrance Day. On November 11th, the whole school gathered in the big hall (two classrooms that had been divided by a sliding door), our schoolmaster, Mr. A.E. Williams, used to bring his radio to school so that we could all listen to the bands that were broadcasting from The Cenotaph in London. We heard the marching feet and shouts of command, then at exactly 11am Big Ben boomed out. Everyone stood perfectly still in the 2 minutes silence. Then we all sang 'Oh Valiant Hearts', followed by Rudyard Kipling's recessional hymn 'God of our Fathers, Known of old'.
We were certainly taught to'remember and respect those who had died fighting for their country in the First World War.
"WARMLEY SCHOOL IN THE 1950's written by F. Alan Bryant
Memories of local people, of any age, play a role in building up a picture, of our community. Here is an example from the late 1950's. You don't have to be old to add to the tapestry of life.
I can vividly remember my first day at school, perhaps the most important day of my life to that date (taster 1955). It was sheer bedlam, a sea of new faces, many crying or shouting or screaming for mummy, all frightened of one another. A group of 30 or so children who would go through Primary School together, learning, laughing, playing and fighting. We were the raw material for the series of teachers to mould, instruct and, all too often, chastise, teachers like my first, Miss Williams, Mrs 'Minnie' Myers, Mr. 'Dev-Dog' Deavin.
Education at Warmley School in those days was, I'm sure, light years away from education today, although the basics are still probably the same. Do kids today chant the table like we did? Everything we seemed to learn was in rhyme. Warmley School, or St. Barnabas Church of England School, to give it its formal title, was, as its name implies, an associated establishment linked to the nearby Church, with all that that implies. The Church was built in 1851, the school 13 years later in 1864. Although the school is still standing, it closed in the early 1970's and is now a new business workshop.
There were a number of traditions which were handed down over the years. Being a Church school, several times a year (St. George's Day, St. Barnabas' Day and Harvest, I think), the whole school would file out through the gates in the morning and pack into the church pews, and then have the rest of the day off.
Being, a 'country' school, in a rural area, we were also interested in the 'old' ways. There was a school allotment for the older children, and a school orchard; in secondary school at Oldland Common, part of the regular time-table was Rural Science. This must have been a throw-back to the times when many schoolchildren would find future employment on farms or in the fields. Country rambles were a very enjoyable time, when Mrs. Myers would take us all out of the stuffy classroom and let us loose in the Glebe Quarry behind the Church. I can't remember learning much on these occasions but I'll never forget the fun we had there in those long hot summer days, and sometimes, if we misbehaved too much, how disappointed we were to have to return to school (and I'm sure I was one of the ringleaders), Life in the 50's and early 60's seemed to revolve so much around nature and the country way of life, and living so close to fields and hedges, much of our spare time was spent there. But also, and ever increasingly, time would be wasted in front of the newly invented T.V. set.
My Grandfather once owned the ancient 'Crown Farm', which was only about 100 yards from our house, at the bottom of Station Road, and much of the summer months would be spent there, making dens in his abandoned orchards or in the hayfields across the brook. In the autumn there were apples galore, yet as I remember, none sweet enough to enjoy straight from the tree.
Bonfires were very different in my childhood days. I suppose I was quite lucky to have grown up at a time when there was enough money about to enjoy buying and letting off bangers, the period before the 70' s and 80's when there were so many restrictions that much of the fun was taken away. There was always an older boy about who would go into Mr. Webb's cycle shop and buy a box of 12 Astra bangers for 2/6d, as long as he could have a couple.
I would meet up with the Goldney Avenue gang and we would go to the old stone quarry or Haskins Clay Pits and drop the fireworks into some scaffolding pipes and 'shoot' them like a bazooka, or wrap them in clay, and throw the fireworks like grenades.
In those days there were many more large bonfires in back gardens, due to the nearness of hedges and trees, I suppose. The first weeks of the summer holidays heralded the beginning of the bonfire building season for me, when we would beaver away, cutting down small trees and large branches, and dragging them back to my father's allotment behind Station Road, and construct as big a fire as many an organised display today. Bonfire night was much more of a family occasion then, when we would all meet and watch each other ignite our fireworks. In the good old days, a box of fireworks wouldn't cost you an arm and a leg.
On one occasion, about 1958 or '59, I had been building a mammoth bonfire all summer, and the big day arrived (it was my second best day of the year), I had saved all my hard earned wages and had managed to buy quite a lot of fireworks. The fire was lit, and I had let off several of my smaller fireworks, like Jumping Jacks or Flying Saucers (which have since been banned). Somehow a stray spark from the fire, or another firework, landed in my firework box, and within seconds the whole lot had ignited and were flaming away out of control. This broke my heart, all my aspirations had just gone up in a puff of smoke, and I cried my eyes out. However, my Dad let me light many of his, so it wasn't quite so bad.
The late winter, spring and early summer months, were the season for bird-nesting or egg-collecting, a hobby which many of the boys at this time joined in. In those days it was not thought to be such a bad thing as it is now. This hobby took me to far more places than I would otherwise have been, and led me to a much greater understanding and appreciation of nature than many of the kids today have.
"PERCY WIHITE" written by Olive Bryant
Prior to the days of Christopher Bells' bread, 3 cottage industry had flourished to supply local need, here is one fine example.
Do you remember good old-fashioned crusty bread baked in a coal oven?
I remember Perce White's small bakery in a stone-built out-building, next to his mother's cottage in Chapel Lane, Warmley.
Perce started bread baking after he left school, about 1905. He was quite a character in his youth, and was known by his nickname 'Mac', after a prize fighter, as he was always ready to have a fight. Those days most everybody had a nickname. My own Grandfather had a branch Saddler's shop in a cottage in London Road, (then called Bath Road), his eldest son, ray Uncle Arthur, was put in charge. His nickname was 'Swanker Lawrence', because he was always nicely dressed up by his mother. Arthur had to cycle each day in from Marshfield where they lived.
Perce and Arthur became friends, and by all accounts got up to a deal of mischief; remember this was in the early 1900's, no T.V. or radio, so they made their own amusements. Once they were chased by the local policeman for some misdemeanour. They ran behind the cottage, one went one side of the cess pit, one went the other side, and the poor policeman went through the middle with smelly results. Perce was interested in motorbikes and would have liked to make it his career, but mother wanted him to run the bakery. He could be seen about the Warmley, Cadbury Heath area riding his Douglas motorbike and sidecar, delivering his bread from a wicker basket fitted into the sidecar.
He usually dressed in a flat cap and overcoat in all winds and weathers. One day, calling on Lady Williams at 'The Lodge', it had been raining and he was quite wet and didn't have on his usual cap, so was invited in while a head covering was found. He was presented with a top hat. He tried to refuse same, but was prevailed upon to wear it. His mother and sister Maud were in their cottage garden as he arrived home. Seeing him chugging along on his bike plus top hat, his mother slightly lifted her skirt, and doing a little Jig started singing: 'Where did you get that hat?' I don't think he took long to get back to his cloth cap!
A memory of a schoolgirl In the 1910's: he was delivering his bread to customers at the top of Kingswood Hill, and moving slowly between houses. The school children from High Street would run after him and catch a lift on the sidecar bar. Perce did not approve of such behaviour and threw a few choice four-letter words at them. They tried this trick quite often, always with the same comments. Perce needed a drink to cope with the heat in the bakery and could be seen carrying his bag of empties into the Bottle and Jug of the Station Hotel (now the Station Master) for his refreshments. If the bread was a bit black, not to worry, he had delivered coal for his mum yesterday.
The bakery was quite small and needed a deal of coal to keep it going, but as his mother was the local coal lady he didn't have to go far for his supplies. Any heat left over could be used by local housewives to cook their Sunday Joints for a small fee. This was in the days before gas and later electricity came to Varraley.
I came to Warmley in 1942, and was introduced to Perce's bread, and after the war when supplies became available, one day a week he made 'Lardy Cake', lashings of lard and currants went into it.
'WILLIAM JENKINS' written by Doris Hills
I feel privileged to be asked to give a write-up of my Uncle William. He was known as a real character, not only in the Warmley area, but other places as well.
I was about three years old and remember him vividly at that time. We shared Mill House in Mill Lane as a family for a twelve month. He worked for a Mr. Hemblin at Wick who was the village carrier. They used to travel backwards and forwards, Old Market Street to the White Hart where they collected parcels for the outlying area.
One day, for a joke, the people at the White Hart threw him in the horse trough and he remained wet through all day in his clothes. He afterwards contracted rheumatoid arthritis and gave him double valvular disease of the heart. He eventually recovered. He was a good looking fellow and when he came home from work always picked me up and sat me on his knee and shared his meal with me. He had a mass of black curly hair, happy go lucky, and we children loved him.
We moved from Mill House - in the cottages above, living next door to each other, Grandmother, Grandfather and Uncle Willie. Next I remember him getting married; he was married and drove to the church in a waggonette pulled by two grey horses. He went to live in a house opposite, adjoining Mill Lane Chapel; he then took over the carriers business, delivering the parcels with his own horse and cart.
Around the districts he was well known for his cheerful disposition and his great sense of humour. He engaged a boy by the name of Frank Lucas to help him and to sit on the back of the cart so the parcels shouldn't get pinched while entering the shops and houses. He eventually sold the carrier business and went as a postman, but owing to his heart trouble, he had to give this job up. He had quite a number of complaints and bore them with great fortitude, always saying 'I'm like Job in the bible - he never gave in, so I shall not let them get me down'.
His mother-in-law left his wife a little cottage in Cadbury Heath with a little land so he decided to buy a wooden hut, and opened a shop selling sweets, tobacco, cigarettes, pills, headache powders and greengrocery. Here he had the happiest times of his life, meeting people and the children spending their halfpennies on sweets.
The children who came in looking so wistful, having nothing to spend, Uncle Willie handed them a few sweets, he used to say the look on their faces was worth all. He loved them and they called him 'Billy Jenks'.
He used to cut bits out of 'Titbits' and stick them around his shop, and people loved to read them. I remember Mrs. Newport and Mrs. Lear, they went to his shop. They were rather big ladies, and Uncle used to say 'Now, if you are going to sit on the stool, sit down together, or up will go the stool'. They used to laugh so loud at Uncle Willie joking, you could hear them up Cadbury Heath Road. They used to say 'He does me more good than a bottle of medicine'.
He was very generous to people and gave away what he could do with himself. He had two pleasures in life; going to the Hippodrome on Boxing Day to a pantomime, he always booked a stage box, and how he loved the comedians.
He laughed so heartily they used to run up to his box, shake hands and say 'Keep it up'. He was known so well going each year in the same box, they had a standing joke, saying on stage, 'Willie's here again'. He loved it. His other pleasure was on closing day, going for a picnic in the Cotswolds on his motorbike and side car. He loved visiting old churches and reading the old tombstones. He came across one covered in ivy, he could hardly read it. It was dated, around the year 1730; it read:
'Here upon this sod we lie, Back to back, the wife and I, And when the trumpet sound shall trill, If she gets up, I'll lie still.'
He laughed so loud at this, the vicar came along and said, 'My man, 'you're in a jovial mood'. He said, 'Vicar, have you ever read this?' He replied 'No I haven't'. 'Then do,' Willie said, 'for, as I see it, he had such a nagging wife that he would be better off staying where he is for that bit of peace'. The Vicar smiled and said, 'Good day to you.'
He was a good musician and played in the Warmley Military Band. He played the trombone, the flute, and took over the drums. He also played the Mill Lane Chapel organ and played the piano. He taught himself to play music by ear.
One, perhaps, would not term him an educated person, but he was known as a person full of wisdom. A certain eminent person said, 'William Jenkins has done tar more in life than any educated person'. He cured warts, a skill which ray Grandmother handed down to him. (Incidentally she was also a great character in the area.) Dr. Macdonald sent many a person to him to have their warts cured.
He had a write-up in the 'Observer' and a photo of him taken in his shop. I vividly recollect a young man coming to Uncle Willie's door from Bristol. A very smart, good-looking fellow, his face was covered in warts. He seemed desperate, he'd been to Specialists in Bristol and London to no avail. He saw this in the 'Observer' and said to himself, 'I'll go and see this man'. Uncle said 'Come in my son'. Then he poured out his heart to him, it was sad, I happened to be there. Uncle Willie said, 'Now, son, I want you to have faith in me. When you leave here still keep that faith. Vill you promise me that?' The young man replied, 'Anything, I promise.' He put his hand around his face, counted his warts (nearly 200), and said 'That's it. Within six weeks they should disappear. Keep that faith, and when they are gone, Just let me know.' The man thanked him most profusely, left, and after eight weeks he came back to Uncle Will's to show and thank him. He was over the moon, not a wart in sight. He wanted to pay him, - he said his people were business people and would be glad to give him a well-deserved sura. Uncle Will said, 'I don't charge for anything. I'm so glad for you. Go on your way rejoicing, should you want to do something, give to a well-deserved charity.' He also cured headaches, placing his hands on their brow.
Uncle Will stayed in his little shop until he was gone 80 years of age. He went downhill and had to sell his little shop and goods. He died at the age of 83 years.
Dr. Macdonald said, 'What a great character. I loved talking to him, he was a man who could laugh off suffering, a wonderful patient.'
I was very privileged to know him. He set an example to us all.
