Some of the children who lived through World War I outside the school
Tribute to the Fallen
1914-1918
Life Before the War
Alan Payne January 2014
A tribute to those who gave their lives for our future a century ago starts with a picture of Box at the start of the war.
Before World War I
All of us have had contact with people who lived at the time of the Great War. Elderly folk remember their grandparents; younger ones have seen them in the family photo album. For the most part there are similarities: their houses still exist; children attend the same school building in Box; and we travel on the same roads that they did. Some aspects of their lives seem better than ours and fill us with nostalgia: abundant shops in the centre of Box, children playing in the street, less hassle.
But a time traveller who went back 100 years would find life quite alien to ours, a different culture and standard of living. We would understand most of their language (apart from occasional exceptions like antimacassar, toff (posh person) and mutton shunter (policeman) but they would not comprehend many of the words that describe our lives (mobiles, internet, television, traffic lights, cd's, supermarkets, trainers, wrist watch and so on).
Their public facilities would seem primitive to us: no national health service, children at work from the age of 13 or 14, and walking to work, school and the pub. Distance travel was almost entirely by horse, horse-and-cart and horse-drawn trams and buses.
You can still find people whose descendants live in the area: Hancocks, Danceys, Fords. But what were these people really like? We can get a marvellous insight into their world from the 1911 census, just a few years before the war started.
All of us have had contact with people who lived at the time of the Great War. Elderly folk remember their grandparents; younger ones have seen them in the family photo album. For the most part there are similarities: their houses still exist; children attend the same school building in Box; and we travel on the same roads that they did. Some aspects of their lives seem better than ours and fill us with nostalgia: abundant shops in the centre of Box, children playing in the street, less hassle.
But a time traveller who went back 100 years would find life quite alien to ours, a different culture and standard of living. We would understand most of their language (apart from occasional exceptions like antimacassar, toff (posh person) and mutton shunter (policeman) but they would not comprehend many of the words that describe our lives (mobiles, internet, television, traffic lights, cd's, supermarkets, trainers, wrist watch and so on).
Their public facilities would seem primitive to us: no national health service, children at work from the age of 13 or 14, and walking to work, school and the pub. Distance travel was almost entirely by horse, horse-and-cart and horse-drawn trams and buses.
You can still find people whose descendants live in the area: Hancocks, Danceys, Fords. But what were these people really like? We can get a marvellous insight into their world from the 1911 census, just a few years before the war started.
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Census of 1911
The outbreak of World War I was one of the most momentous events in Britain's history. It reshaped many of our concepts: the role of women outside the house; a re-evaluation of warfare and weapons; and Britain's status in the world. It set Box's development on an entirely different route to the previous centuries, moving us to a modern society which affected the life of every resident of the parish. |
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The 1911 census shows that Box was still a deeply hierarchical society divided by class (upper, upper middle, lower middle and poor), wealth, occupation, housing and education. All classes recognised distinctions: status was enforced by deference and titles of address were scrupulously observed, varying between the Right Hon; Esquire; and the common title of Mr.
At work every job was defined in order to explain levels of status. In 1911 Robert Davies was an Officer Customs & Excise, 2nd class, and he employed a General Domestic servant to look after his small family. Quarrymen defined their jobs in detail to differentiate skilled banker masons, pickers and general labourers. Sometimes even the names of people reflected their level in society: Cornelius James (Pictor) private wealth; Frederick George (Smith) quarryman picker; and Fred (Stevens) domestic gardener.
The improvements instigated by late Victorian and Edwardian politicians scarcely seem to have affected life in Box. The Labour movement was nowhere to be seen in the village; Factory Acts and the Shop Hours Act affected few or no Box residents; healthcare relied on a single, local doctor offering charity or the hated workhouse in Chippenham. One of the few signs of improvement was the Old Age Pension introduced in 1909 and several of the elderly were proud to call themselves pensioners. Another was Box's new school buildings.
By the time the war started in 1914, Box School on the London Road had been in existence for 40 years. It was a symbol of the community's commitment to the education of local children, built to impress passers-by as an inspiring, permanent piece of Victorian building splendour. For two generations most local children had been educated there, especially after education became compulsory and free attendance offered. It is noticeable that the people who were not able to sign their own names were all elderly. But education did not necessarily offer opportunity and its success was only partial.
Employment in 1911
The census makes depressing reading, depicting a society scarcely changed for generations. There are 539 individual families listed in Box and Ditteridge parishes in 1911. Of these, an amazing number (162 of household heads equivalent to 30%) of families were engaged in the quarrying industry; despite the fact that the quarry trade was already plunging into serious decline. Most of the quarry jobs were manual or with skills that were industry specific.
At work every job was defined in order to explain levels of status. In 1911 Robert Davies was an Officer Customs & Excise, 2nd class, and he employed a General Domestic servant to look after his small family. Quarrymen defined their jobs in detail to differentiate skilled banker masons, pickers and general labourers. Sometimes even the names of people reflected their level in society: Cornelius James (Pictor) private wealth; Frederick George (Smith) quarryman picker; and Fred (Stevens) domestic gardener.
The improvements instigated by late Victorian and Edwardian politicians scarcely seem to have affected life in Box. The Labour movement was nowhere to be seen in the village; Factory Acts and the Shop Hours Act affected few or no Box residents; healthcare relied on a single, local doctor offering charity or the hated workhouse in Chippenham. One of the few signs of improvement was the Old Age Pension introduced in 1909 and several of the elderly were proud to call themselves pensioners. Another was Box's new school buildings.
By the time the war started in 1914, Box School on the London Road had been in existence for 40 years. It was a symbol of the community's commitment to the education of local children, built to impress passers-by as an inspiring, permanent piece of Victorian building splendour. For two generations most local children had been educated there, especially after education became compulsory and free attendance offered. It is noticeable that the people who were not able to sign their own names were all elderly. But education did not necessarily offer opportunity and its success was only partial.
Employment in 1911
The census makes depressing reading, depicting a society scarcely changed for generations. There are 539 individual families listed in Box and Ditteridge parishes in 1911. Of these, an amazing number (162 of household heads equivalent to 30%) of families were engaged in the quarrying industry; despite the fact that the quarry trade was already plunging into serious decline. Most of the quarry jobs were manual or with skills that were industry specific.
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These workers were not the largest group, however. This was the position of married women, whose domestic duties were all-consuming in a period before washing machines, refrigerators or domestic water supply.
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The Plight of |
The status of married women in the census is not mentioned; they were domestics who bore unwanted numbers of children in an age before the pill. Some widows survived by taking in work as laundress, dressmaker, or domestic worker; others needed the income of unmarried children who were working. And, of course, no woman was entitled to vote in 1911.
Along with an over-reliance on quarrying, male employment in the area was concentrated on labouring. Farm employees, domestic gardeners, carters and council road repairers totalled 106 households (nearly 20%). Of more modern trades, there were individual workers such as insurance agent, antique dealer, policeman and waterworks engineer. Newer large employers included the railway (28 household heads or 5%), 6 flour mill workers; and 5 soap and candle making employees.
Perhaps the biggest indictment of the area in 1911 was the number of sons who followed their father into the stone industry and the daughters of poorer parents who went into domestic service usually outside their own parish as soon as they left school aged 14. It was a local economy which was plunging over the cliff.
Housing Stock
A measure of the poverty of the area was the overcrowding of families into run-down rented cottages, often occupied by two separate families covering three generations, which might now be occupied by a married couple.
John Moss (aged 73) at Blue Vein Cottages was a carter who lived in totally overcrowded circumstances in two rooms with his wife Dorcus (charwoman aged 47) and their three children George (16 farm labourer), Beatrice and Harriett (aged 14 and 12 school children). Henry and Elizabeth Coles lived with their three children and widower John Gingell, lodger and Old Age Pensioner, aged 71, in three rooms at Longsplatt.
For many Box men the war offered relief from the grind of everyday life and they went off on an adventure of which they had little knowledge. We should all deplore the naive ignorance of the leaders who thought the war would end in weeks and which ended four years later with the death of a whole generation of young Box men.
Along with an over-reliance on quarrying, male employment in the area was concentrated on labouring. Farm employees, domestic gardeners, carters and council road repairers totalled 106 households (nearly 20%). Of more modern trades, there were individual workers such as insurance agent, antique dealer, policeman and waterworks engineer. Newer large employers included the railway (28 household heads or 5%), 6 flour mill workers; and 5 soap and candle making employees.
Perhaps the biggest indictment of the area in 1911 was the number of sons who followed their father into the stone industry and the daughters of poorer parents who went into domestic service usually outside their own parish as soon as they left school aged 14. It was a local economy which was plunging over the cliff.
Housing Stock
A measure of the poverty of the area was the overcrowding of families into run-down rented cottages, often occupied by two separate families covering three generations, which might now be occupied by a married couple.
John Moss (aged 73) at Blue Vein Cottages was a carter who lived in totally overcrowded circumstances in two rooms with his wife Dorcus (charwoman aged 47) and their three children George (16 farm labourer), Beatrice and Harriett (aged 14 and 12 school children). Henry and Elizabeth Coles lived with their three children and widower John Gingell, lodger and Old Age Pensioner, aged 71, in three rooms at Longsplatt.
For many Box men the war offered relief from the grind of everyday life and they went off on an adventure of which they had little knowledge. We should all deplore the naive ignorance of the leaders who thought the war would end in weeks and which ended four years later with the death of a whole generation of young Box men.
The Outbreak of War
Box Scout group was on summer camp on Kingsdown in August 1914 when war broke out. The group had only been formed in 1910. It was at one of the earliest camps that news of the German invasion of Belgium and the declaration of war occurred. The Scouts log recorded the outbreak of hostilities with dignified simplicity: War was declared on August 14th 1914 between the Allies (Britain, Belgium, France, Russia and Serbia) and the German Empire aided by Austria and Hungary. The failure of negotiations for Peace came as a great shock for the nation but immediately preparations were made on a large scale as it was foreseen that hostilities would last over an extended period. The Germans were prepared; we were not, except for our Navy.[1]
Box Scout group was on summer camp on Kingsdown in August 1914 when war broke out. The group had only been formed in 1910. It was at one of the earliest camps that news of the German invasion of Belgium and the declaration of war occurred. The Scouts log recorded the outbreak of hostilities with dignified simplicity: War was declared on August 14th 1914 between the Allies (Britain, Belgium, France, Russia and Serbia) and the German Empire aided by Austria and Hungary. The failure of negotiations for Peace came as a great shock for the nation but immediately preparations were made on a large scale as it was foreseen that hostilities would last over an extended period. The Germans were prepared; we were not, except for our Navy.[1]
Demons are let loose upon the earth |
There was no rejoicing in Box for the war.
In September 1914 the Parish Magazine expressed alarm about a war fought for the purposes of glory and politics: |
We are at War! A peace-loving nation, we have been drawn, by consideration of honour and polity, into a conflict of which no man can foresee the end. It is no ordinary war. The whole civilised world is more or less involved. St. John’s vision, in which the spirits of demons are let loose upon the earth at Armageddon, is the nearest prophetic parallel.
Soon afterwards the government's propaganda machine ran a different story, overwhelmingly positive, with honour and adventure offered to those who enlisted. Nationally 750,000 men joined up within a month and Box joined in the general jingoism.[2] Some thought the war would be short-term and Box resident Dennis Richman said that the outbreak of war caused: excitement everywhere and brought forth full patriotism among all people. It would be over in four weeks, they said.[3] The Parish Magazine of October 1914 declared: England has unleashed its sword in the cause of right and all English churchmen will join in prayer that the God of justice will in every vicissitude be with England and her Allies until the end. In 1915 the parish council welcomed the new National Registration Act with these words: This meeting records its inflexible determination to continue to a victorious end the struggle for liberty and justice.[4]
There was widespread suspicion of invasion similar to the reaction during the Napoleonic struggle. Dennis Richman recounted: I remember, right at the beginning of the first world war actually seeing a poor old tramp with his tins (with wire handles and blackened state) being arrested as a suspect German spy. As war progressed, the village mobilised its resources in support of the British troops. Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, the scale of this military support seems pathetic in the light of the death and destruction inflicted by the war.
[1] David Ibberson, Lambert’s Way: Scouting in Box 1910 to 1985, 1985
[2] Christopher Hibbert, The English: A Social History, 1987, Harper Collins, p.689
[3] David Ibberson, The Writings of Mr Dennis Richman, part 5, Parish Magazine
[4] Claire Higgens, Box Wiltshire: An Intimate History, 1985, p.51
Soon afterwards the government's propaganda machine ran a different story, overwhelmingly positive, with honour and adventure offered to those who enlisted. Nationally 750,000 men joined up within a month and Box joined in the general jingoism.[2] Some thought the war would be short-term and Box resident Dennis Richman said that the outbreak of war caused: excitement everywhere and brought forth full patriotism among all people. It would be over in four weeks, they said.[3] The Parish Magazine of October 1914 declared: England has unleashed its sword in the cause of right and all English churchmen will join in prayer that the God of justice will in every vicissitude be with England and her Allies until the end. In 1915 the parish council welcomed the new National Registration Act with these words: This meeting records its inflexible determination to continue to a victorious end the struggle for liberty and justice.[4]
There was widespread suspicion of invasion similar to the reaction during the Napoleonic struggle. Dennis Richman recounted: I remember, right at the beginning of the first world war actually seeing a poor old tramp with his tins (with wire handles and blackened state) being arrested as a suspect German spy. As war progressed, the village mobilised its resources in support of the British troops. Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, the scale of this military support seems pathetic in the light of the death and destruction inflicted by the war.
[1] David Ibberson, Lambert’s Way: Scouting in Box 1910 to 1985, 1985
[2] Christopher Hibbert, The English: A Social History, 1987, Harper Collins, p.689
[3] David Ibberson, The Writings of Mr Dennis Richman, part 5, Parish Magazine
[4] Claire Higgens, Box Wiltshire: An Intimate History, 1985, p.51