Memories of the Coronation in 1953 Bill Cooper January 2024
Bill and Renee Chaffey (centre and right) at Box Station (courtesy Bob Hancock)
The point to first be made in comparison with today is that household television (as we know it) was in its infancy, because of a lack of transmitters. The London transmitter was quite established and there was a second one at Sutton Coldfield, from where Box was served. Of course, the signal was very weak resulting in a pretty poor picture and television as the norm did not happen in Box until 1955 when the transmitter at Wenvoe (near Cardiff) was opened. After then, the general conversation in Les Bawtree’s barber’s chair centred around type of set, size of picture, last night’s programme etc. Every programme was in black and white and colour did not follow universally until the seventies. Of course, there was only one television channel until ITV started in some parts of the country (not Box) in 1955.
Returning to Box at Coronation time, there were few domestic sets in the village:
I recall seeing the fancy dress procession gathering around Bargates about 2 o’clock, progressing down to the Market Place, temporarily emptying The Chequers, proceeding onwards and upwards to the marquee in the Queens Head garden for a tea
later in the afternoon. At the Queens Head entrance to the Rec, there was a fenced enclosure which was full of fit young men ready to take part in the Box Marathon. Apparently, this had been quite an established event in the pre-war days. The bowls club and tennis courts did not exist then and possibly the work of levelling the football field not yet begun. This meant that the route of the marathon was: From Valens Terrace gate, through the brook fields to the Muddy Arch (aka Dirty Arch), turn right at Middlehill, up past Ardgay House, left towards Ben Cross, left on to the Colerne Road turning right at the second stile, across the field, a short way on to Mill Lane, then turn right under the railway arch, across the Lower Field and back to the Rec. Phew!!
Returning to Box at Coronation time, there were few domestic sets in the village:
- Nigel Bence who lived high up near Kingsdown Golf Club where reception was quite good
- The resident of a cottage half way down Mill Lane which had scaffolding well above its roof-line and
- The Upper Ley Bungalow occupied by the Collins family where I went to see the ceremony.[1]
I recall seeing the fancy dress procession gathering around Bargates about 2 o’clock, progressing down to the Market Place, temporarily emptying The Chequers, proceeding onwards and upwards to the marquee in the Queens Head garden for a tea
later in the afternoon. At the Queens Head entrance to the Rec, there was a fenced enclosure which was full of fit young men ready to take part in the Box Marathon. Apparently, this had been quite an established event in the pre-war days. The bowls club and tennis courts did not exist then and possibly the work of levelling the football field not yet begun. This meant that the route of the marathon was: From Valens Terrace gate, through the brook fields to the Muddy Arch (aka Dirty Arch), turn right at Middlehill, up past Ardgay House, left towards Ben Cross, left on to the Colerne Road turning right at the second stile, across the field, a short way on to Mill Lane, then turn right under the railway arch, across the Lower Field and back to the Rec. Phew!!
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John Hinton breasted the tape miles before anyone else. He was applauded and presented with the trophy almost immediately. But all was NOT in order. The markers returned to say that he had skipped the second Colerne Road Stile! This had substantially shortened the route for him!!! Just imagine the great debate and questions about what should happen. There were calls for Bert Swan, the organiser of the marker. However, the participants provided their own solution. John Hinton agreed to share the honours with Monty Dermott and shared the trophy six months each! Panic resolved. The Parish Council Chairman, Bill Chaffey, made a brief speech about the occasion, remembering her majesty and, then, blowing a whistle to start the comic football match, where the bowls club and tennis courts are located. I remember having lurid lipstick patterns plastered across my face by Rene Chaffey dressed in a vast pair of Victorian bloomers. Another pair of these ended up over the head of the referee Don Newman who, incidentally, was an official referee in normal times. When the final whistle sounded, all participants adjourned to the Queens Head and were presented with a welcome pint from the Parish Council. By this time, the fancy dress parade had arrived at the Rec and all the young children were presented with coronation mugs. When the official proceedings were ending, with general agreement, everyone adjourned to either The Chequers, The Queens Head or elsewhere for the rest of the day. |
Bill and Renee's wedding in 1943 (courtesy Bob Hancock)
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The Event in London
My wife Mary has her own memories of Coronation Day from the pavement of The Mall, London, where she was a student at Whitelands College (now London University). She recalled:
We slept on the pavement overnight having no problem in finding what we thought was a good position. This soon changed when both police and soldiers came and stood in front of us, virtually shoulder to shoulder, blocking our viewpoint. All at once, there was a whisper in the crowd as word spread that Hillary and Tensing had climbed Everest. Everyone flocked to buy newspapers reporting the great event. It was raining hard and we were all covered in soaking wet papers. By this time the procession was passing us but, because of the police and troops, you could not see much. And so, an outstanding event passed in front of us. In the procession, the queen of Tonga, Salote Tupou III, rode past in an open coach with a long feather on her head and water literally streaming from it. She deliberately did not cover her head despite the rain as she did not want spectators to be disappointed. By this time, we had had enough and we returned to college and bed. I would not recommend sitting on a wet pavement ever again. Note the difference in the weather because it did not rain in Box.
My wife Mary has her own memories of Coronation Day from the pavement of The Mall, London, where she was a student at Whitelands College (now London University). She recalled:
We slept on the pavement overnight having no problem in finding what we thought was a good position. This soon changed when both police and soldiers came and stood in front of us, virtually shoulder to shoulder, blocking our viewpoint. All at once, there was a whisper in the crowd as word spread that Hillary and Tensing had climbed Everest. Everyone flocked to buy newspapers reporting the great event. It was raining hard and we were all covered in soaking wet papers. By this time the procession was passing us but, because of the police and troops, you could not see much. And so, an outstanding event passed in front of us. In the procession, the queen of Tonga, Salote Tupou III, rode past in an open coach with a long feather on her head and water literally streaming from it. She deliberately did not cover her head despite the rain as she did not want spectators to be disappointed. By this time, we had had enough and we returned to college and bed. I would not recommend sitting on a wet pavement ever again. Note the difference in the weather because it did not rain in Box.
Reference
[1] For many years the bungalow was later occupied by the Brickell family who ran the ice-cream manufacturing premises in
The Ley
[1] For many years the bungalow was later occupied by the Brickell family who ran the ice-cream manufacturing premises in
The Ley