Box Church Choir sings Stainer’s Crucifixion Henry Collier August 2024
Box Church Choir
I had extreme speech problems until my late 30s but singing in a choir was no problem. I joined Box Church Choir in the very early 1950s when Rev Lendon Bell was vicar and sang treble for several years, until my voice broke when they needed more altos. They were short of altos in those years, the only other one being Miss Pritchard, a lovely little lady, who quietly sang alto. Other singers included Bert Wright (tenor), John King from Quarry Hill (strong bass voice), and Maureen May (smooth, velvet soprano). Mrs Bunting who sang a distinctive tremolo soprano,
Sometimes Ann Hayward sang alto as we were always a little short in that area. Mr Hayward was a big man with a big bass voice. Mr Collet, the father of David and Roy, sang tenor. Later in my time at the choir, Roy Collet was head boy on the organ side and I was head boy on the pulpit side. There were others who no doubt deserve a mention, and I apologise to them as we had such a good choir. It is sad to see now that the organ and the choir stalls have gone. We had a fairly new choirmaster, Mr D Bishop, appointed in 1953, who was also an excellent organist, very necessary in those days.
There were three services every Sunday, each of which needed the choir: Communion at 9.30, the main service at 11am and Evensong at 6.30pm. The choir was large with some 20 people singing each time. There was choir practice on Friday nights, always well attended (very few people had the distraction of television). The adults started practice at 7:00pm and the boys were expected at 7:30. Terry Davenport and I took full advantage of this break for a little mischief. Terry and his family left Box a year or two later
I had extreme speech problems until my late 30s but singing in a choir was no problem. I joined Box Church Choir in the very early 1950s when Rev Lendon Bell was vicar and sang treble for several years, until my voice broke when they needed more altos. They were short of altos in those years, the only other one being Miss Pritchard, a lovely little lady, who quietly sang alto. Other singers included Bert Wright (tenor), John King from Quarry Hill (strong bass voice), and Maureen May (smooth, velvet soprano). Mrs Bunting who sang a distinctive tremolo soprano,
Sometimes Ann Hayward sang alto as we were always a little short in that area. Mr Hayward was a big man with a big bass voice. Mr Collet, the father of David and Roy, sang tenor. Later in my time at the choir, Roy Collet was head boy on the organ side and I was head boy on the pulpit side. There were others who no doubt deserve a mention, and I apologise to them as we had such a good choir. It is sad to see now that the organ and the choir stalls have gone. We had a fairly new choirmaster, Mr D Bishop, appointed in 1953, who was also an excellent organist, very necessary in those days.
There were three services every Sunday, each of which needed the choir: Communion at 9.30, the main service at 11am and Evensong at 6.30pm. The choir was large with some 20 people singing each time. There was choir practice on Friday nights, always well attended (very few people had the distraction of television). The adults started practice at 7:00pm and the boys were expected at 7:30. Terry Davenport and I took full advantage of this break for a little mischief. Terry and his family left Box a year or two later
For several years we went to Hazelbury Manor at Christmas time, where we stood in the minstrels’ gallery and sang carols. Mr and Mrs Kidston gave out mince pies and, after they had moved, we performed for the girls’ finishing school which took over the house. I always understood that the daughter of Billy Butlin went to the school. The girls didn’t mix with Box boys who were far too rough. We used to carry catapults and fir cones as ammunition, which Constable John Bosley would confiscate if he caught you. Usually, we would hear him on his 2-stroke engine Cyclemaster but one time he coasted down Mill Lane and caught us red-handed.
I used to ride my pushbike (cost me £4.10s second hand) to Westinghouse in my early apprentice years 1959 on, but I rode dad's Cyclemaster a while in 1960 to go to work. It made a big difference cycling to work. It had one failing, which always happened at the bottom of Chequers Hill. The exhaust would fall off, and because it was direct onto the cylinder it sounded like a gatling gun! I would go back and pick it up, and burn my fingers a bit putting it back on, but overall it was very good and reliable.
I used to ride my pushbike (cost me £4.10s second hand) to Westinghouse in my early apprentice years 1959 on, but I rode dad's Cyclemaster a while in 1960 to go to work. It made a big difference cycling to work. It had one failing, which always happened at the bottom of Chequers Hill. The exhaust would fall off, and because it was direct onto the cylinder it sounded like a gatling gun! I would go back and pick it up, and burn my fingers a bit putting it back on, but overall it was very good and reliable.
John Stainer's Crucifixion
We performed John Stainer's Crucifixion in the choir on Palm Sunday, 11 April 1954.[1] It was a huge piece for choir and organ, which we practised for weeks before. We had many rehearsals, and the final one was recorded on a Grundig Reel to Reel. We all stood out of the choir stalls and facing the congregation. The microphone was out in the aisle. The conductor of the piece, Stanley Pearce from Bath, had two adult daughters who augmented the choir numbers. I would be very pleased if a copy of this recording could be located; it is likely that a number of copies were made.
The work tells the story of The Passion in 20 movements, with text from the King James Bible. The piece featured two solo voices, Box residents Thomas Meays (tenor) and RJ Williams (bass), and there were five hymns for the congregation to sing along with the choir. It was a very well-attended performance, widely anticipated by the congregation after so much practice.
Lendon Bell left Box for Sussex a few months later. In his valedictory speech, he recorded his ambitions on coming to the parish – strengthening the choir and building up the Sunday School.[2] He recorded that on his arrival in 1947 the choir consisted of two boys and not many adults. In May 1954 vicar Lendon Bell recorded: I think this Easter was the happiest that I can remember since I came to Box. Glorious weather, good congregations, splendid support from organist, choir and sidesmen, and a most kind offer of help from the Chaplain of HMS Royal Arthur. All helped to make what might have been a tiring day for me into a most enjoyable one.[3]
We performed John Stainer's Crucifixion in the choir on Palm Sunday, 11 April 1954.[1] It was a huge piece for choir and organ, which we practised for weeks before. We had many rehearsals, and the final one was recorded on a Grundig Reel to Reel. We all stood out of the choir stalls and facing the congregation. The microphone was out in the aisle. The conductor of the piece, Stanley Pearce from Bath, had two adult daughters who augmented the choir numbers. I would be very pleased if a copy of this recording could be located; it is likely that a number of copies were made.
The work tells the story of The Passion in 20 movements, with text from the King James Bible. The piece featured two solo voices, Box residents Thomas Meays (tenor) and RJ Williams (bass), and there were five hymns for the congregation to sing along with the choir. It was a very well-attended performance, widely anticipated by the congregation after so much practice.
Lendon Bell left Box for Sussex a few months later. In his valedictory speech, he recorded his ambitions on coming to the parish – strengthening the choir and building up the Sunday School.[2] He recorded that on his arrival in 1947 the choir consisted of two boys and not many adults. In May 1954 vicar Lendon Bell recorded: I think this Easter was the happiest that I can remember since I came to Box. Glorious weather, good congregations, splendid support from organist, choir and sidesmen, and a most kind offer of help from the Chaplain of HMS Royal Arthur. All helped to make what might have been a tiring day for me into a most enjoyable one.[3]
Processions
The photos above and below show the Remembrance Day commemorations when the choir had processional duties (both photos courtesy Anne Pothecary). The procession above includes: Bertie Wright (cross bearer), to his left Alec Boyd (the head boy and soprano soloist at that time), to his right Mike Cotterell (joint head boy), behind him Ken Gillam, followed by Roy and David Collett, Les Dancey. Behind him is Terry Swan (Bert Swan's son), to his right Ernie King, (lovely chap, still living in Box in 1980s), Miss Pritchard, Mrs Hayward with Mrs Bunting to her left, between them is Mr King. Then Mr Collett and behind is John Smith (choir master).[4]
Ernie King lived in Kingsmoor House Children's Home, as did the Hale brothers, George and Tubby. Tubby Hale fell off the parapet on the Mill side of the Railway Bridge, very lucky not to hit the pointed railway fencing (now gone). He did a bit of damage to his ribs and got carted off to hospital, but nothing appeared permanent.
Les Dancey lived next door to Betty and Charlie Helps and their daughter, Christine, who played the organ at the Sunday School. Betty and Charlie both had a great deal to do with the church. Betty used to arrange the flowers and Charlie was many things, including a server at Holy Communion. Betty was the sister of Miss Frayling, a sweet little lady who lived with her brother at Barn Piece. The brother must have been a collector of clocks. Once they started chiming it was a cacophony of bells and cuckoos.
Les Dancey came up the quarry woods (then called "The Beeches') on his motorbike, Some of the lads had a ride on it. It was a monster with a gear change lever on the left side of the petrol tank, and I think friction damping on the front suspension. It looked ancient even in the 1950s.
The photos above and below show the Remembrance Day commemorations when the choir had processional duties (both photos courtesy Anne Pothecary). The procession above includes: Bertie Wright (cross bearer), to his left Alec Boyd (the head boy and soprano soloist at that time), to his right Mike Cotterell (joint head boy), behind him Ken Gillam, followed by Roy and David Collett, Les Dancey. Behind him is Terry Swan (Bert Swan's son), to his right Ernie King, (lovely chap, still living in Box in 1980s), Miss Pritchard, Mrs Hayward with Mrs Bunting to her left, between them is Mr King. Then Mr Collett and behind is John Smith (choir master).[4]
Ernie King lived in Kingsmoor House Children's Home, as did the Hale brothers, George and Tubby. Tubby Hale fell off the parapet on the Mill side of the Railway Bridge, very lucky not to hit the pointed railway fencing (now gone). He did a bit of damage to his ribs and got carted off to hospital, but nothing appeared permanent.
Les Dancey lived next door to Betty and Charlie Helps and their daughter, Christine, who played the organ at the Sunday School. Betty and Charlie both had a great deal to do with the church. Betty used to arrange the flowers and Charlie was many things, including a server at Holy Communion. Betty was the sister of Miss Frayling, a sweet little lady who lived with her brother at Barn Piece. The brother must have been a collector of clocks. Once they started chiming it was a cacophony of bells and cuckoos.
Les Dancey came up the quarry woods (then called "The Beeches') on his motorbike, Some of the lads had a ride on it. It was a monster with a gear change lever on the left side of the petrol tank, and I think friction damping on the front suspension. It looked ancient even in the 1950s.
I did avoid the vicar for a while when "us Box lads" were drinking in the Queens Head on Christmas Eve, after which I decided to go to Midnight Mass. The problem was walking back from the altar after kneeling down, I slowed down until I was walking on the spot when I reached the first pews. Luckily, I started up again and reached my pew. This little episode was emphasized when one of my friends (I think Grayson Dancey) passed me when I was stationary. Needless to say, I avoided the vicar for a little while. I left the choir in 1959 when I was 17 and my voice had broken. The choir was replaced by other interests.
Les Dancey Added his Memories
As Henry said, Mr King was a bass but his holding the tune was sometimes variable, resembling Eric Morecambe on the piano with all the right notes but in the wrong place. Fred Hayward (a lovely fella) also sang bass and he had a fantastic rich bass voice, just like Paul Robeson. We used to sit either side of Mr King to cover for him. He used to tell us of the village in olden times; I wish I had written it all down. He ived half way up Quarry Hill, on the left.
John Smith, the choirmaster could see me in the mirror above the keyboard of the organ. On one occasion, I was banned from the choir by him, but, I was the blue eyed boy of the Rev Lendon Bell. The vicar came to the lectern before the service to find me sitting right in the front bench of the church. He asked why I was not singing, then instructed me to join the choir. During the service, John Smith was shocked to see me sitting there, grinning at him. I must have been an annoying little boy. It was not always my fault as my pal Mike Cotterell and I would egg each other on.
The old motor bike that I had was a 1936 250cc BSA. It had gate change with a lever on the side of the petrol tank and it was drip feed oil. It leaked so much that I had to buy a pint of oil every time I filled up with petrol. In those days, a pint of oil was 3s.9d (18p). Most things seemed to cost the same in those days, such as a packet of Will's Woodbines. The frame of the bike was twisted, which affected the steering. No telescopic forks and no rear suspension. Whenever I got it up to more than 30 miles per hour it used to whip. I got quite used to the motion. Quarry Woods was an ideal spot to let everyone have a go driving. We previously used to track there on our push bikes as the trees were widely spaced and it was off the road, also soft landings if anyone fell off. We didn't have crash hats in those days.
During my time, I remember that we performed Handel's Messiah, but without any outside help. As a boy soprano, I sang the part of Mary and still often sing the part in my head even now.
As Henry said, Mr King was a bass but his holding the tune was sometimes variable, resembling Eric Morecambe on the piano with all the right notes but in the wrong place. Fred Hayward (a lovely fella) also sang bass and he had a fantastic rich bass voice, just like Paul Robeson. We used to sit either side of Mr King to cover for him. He used to tell us of the village in olden times; I wish I had written it all down. He ived half way up Quarry Hill, on the left.
John Smith, the choirmaster could see me in the mirror above the keyboard of the organ. On one occasion, I was banned from the choir by him, but, I was the blue eyed boy of the Rev Lendon Bell. The vicar came to the lectern before the service to find me sitting right in the front bench of the church. He asked why I was not singing, then instructed me to join the choir. During the service, John Smith was shocked to see me sitting there, grinning at him. I must have been an annoying little boy. It was not always my fault as my pal Mike Cotterell and I would egg each other on.
The old motor bike that I had was a 1936 250cc BSA. It had gate change with a lever on the side of the petrol tank and it was drip feed oil. It leaked so much that I had to buy a pint of oil every time I filled up with petrol. In those days, a pint of oil was 3s.9d (18p). Most things seemed to cost the same in those days, such as a packet of Will's Woodbines. The frame of the bike was twisted, which affected the steering. No telescopic forks and no rear suspension. Whenever I got it up to more than 30 miles per hour it used to whip. I got quite used to the motion. Quarry Woods was an ideal spot to let everyone have a go driving. We previously used to track there on our push bikes as the trees were widely spaced and it was off the road, also soft landings if anyone fell off. We didn't have crash hats in those days.
During my time, I remember that we performed Handel's Messiah, but without any outside help. As a boy soprano, I sang the part of Mary and still often sing the part in my head even now.
References
[1] The Wiltshire Times, 17 April 1954
[2] The Wiltshire Times, 11 September 1954
[3] Parish Magazine, April and May 1954
[4] Names courtesy Les Dancey
[1] The Wiltshire Times, 17 April 1954
[2] The Wiltshire Times, 11 September 1954
[3] Parish Magazine, April and May 1954
[4] Names courtesy Les Dancey