Thomas William Moses Eyles Suggested by Jonathan Maddicott and Tim Harding March 2026
TWM Eyles second left wearing cap (courtesy Bath Chronicle and Herald 6 June 1931)
It is always confusing when two unrelated families with the same surname occur in a limited area. The Eyles family were well-known in Box through Graham and Ruby Eyles who lived on the Devizes Road but this article is about a different family with the same surname and focuses on Thomas William Moses Eyles of Ashley Wood.
Thomas William Moses Eyles (1877-1959) was the fifth child of Moses Eyles (1839-1900) and his wife Jane, who ran a haulage business at Chipping Sodbury and worked mainly as mail carriers for the Post Office. Later they owned the New Inn at Chipping Sodbury. Moses wasn’t from a wealthy background and his father, Hope Eyles, was a quarryman who later became a master baker. By 1871 Moses and Jane were sufficiently wealthy to employ 3 men and a boy and a domestic servant. It appears that their middle-class affluence came from the haulage trade at a time when the railways were still in their infancy and the transport of goods and people still relied on horses. The Eyles family appeared to be comfortable but not wealthy.
Eyles Family
Thomas Eyles married twice. His first wife in 1905 was Elizabeth Jane Ryall (born 1874 at St Pancras, London), who was the tragic widow of Dr Thomas Atkinson Lawson (1862-1903), a consultant chemist with degrees from German and London Universities, including PhD, BSc, FIC and FCS. Elizabeth and her first husband had been married for only days in 1903 and had just returned from honeymoon on the Isle of Wight when the tragedy happened.[1] Her husband was suffering depression through overwork and the death of his mother. He took his own life by locking himself in a room and shooting himself. Elizabeth was left very well-off from her parents' inheritance and the estate of her husband, which included £20,000 (today worth about £2 million) inherited from his mother. The money came to Elizabeth on her husband’s death and she remarried two years later to Thomas Eyles.
In April 1911, Thomas and Elizabeth were living at Rakeby Lodge, Bathford, where Thomas described his occupation as of private means. He aspired to the life of a gentleman and appears to have been in the process of building a house in seclusion in Ashley Wood. Some details of his lifestyle are given when he was involved in a serious shooting accident at Bathford in 1911.[2] He was peppered with shot discharged by another member of the shooting party and, on the advice of his doctor, he was taken to his home at Ashley Wood, Kingsdown Road, where shot was extracted from the back of his head. Thomas and Elizabeth's only child, a daughter Phyllis Lawson Eyles, was born in Box in 1912, presumably at the house, and the 1921 census shows them all living there.
We can try to reconstruct life for middle-class Edwardian gentlemen in the years around the First World War. They had a social responsibility, including attending garden parties, formal deference to superiors, and involvement in administrative duties or charitable work. They were people of leisure who demonstrated their connection with landed estates by hunting and shooting, eating the farm produce off their own land, and living in a detached country residence. In 1919 TWM was able to demonstrate some of these attributes when he was elected a member of the Bath & West Show.[3]
In his memoires of Ashley, Victor Painter recalled how the Eyles were wealthier than other Kingsdown families because they had a telephone, much needed when a local woodcutter, Harry Mould, got into trouble.[4]
“Mr Mould was very fond of beer and was often at the Swan Inn. One lunchtime Mr Mould had been for a drink to the Swan Inn and on his way down home through a rough, uneven footpath Mr Mould slipped and fell and broke his leg. Us boys playing around near to where Mr Mould fell soon got Mr Pullen the landlord of the Swan to come to Mr Mould. Now this was 1912, and the only persons to have a telephone was Mr and Mrs Eyles at Ashley Wood towards Bathford. So Mr Pullin himself ran down the half of mile and in due course some sort of an ambulance arrived from Bath, it was more like a van. Two men got out and they, with the help of Mr Pullin the landlord giving them a lift, they got Mr Mould in the back. Poor Mrs Mould stood by crying her eyes out, for in those days one had to stay in hospital with a broken leg for about 12 weeks. Then you were sent home on crutches. In Mr Mould's case no money was coming in while he was in hospital and Mr Mould cut and laid a hedge while still on his crutches for a Mr Lavington who had fields near Bathford Woods.”
Thomas Eyles married twice. His first wife in 1905 was Elizabeth Jane Ryall (born 1874 at St Pancras, London), who was the tragic widow of Dr Thomas Atkinson Lawson (1862-1903), a consultant chemist with degrees from German and London Universities, including PhD, BSc, FIC and FCS. Elizabeth and her first husband had been married for only days in 1903 and had just returned from honeymoon on the Isle of Wight when the tragedy happened.[1] Her husband was suffering depression through overwork and the death of his mother. He took his own life by locking himself in a room and shooting himself. Elizabeth was left very well-off from her parents' inheritance and the estate of her husband, which included £20,000 (today worth about £2 million) inherited from his mother. The money came to Elizabeth on her husband’s death and she remarried two years later to Thomas Eyles.
In April 1911, Thomas and Elizabeth were living at Rakeby Lodge, Bathford, where Thomas described his occupation as of private means. He aspired to the life of a gentleman and appears to have been in the process of building a house in seclusion in Ashley Wood. Some details of his lifestyle are given when he was involved in a serious shooting accident at Bathford in 1911.[2] He was peppered with shot discharged by another member of the shooting party and, on the advice of his doctor, he was taken to his home at Ashley Wood, Kingsdown Road, where shot was extracted from the back of his head. Thomas and Elizabeth's only child, a daughter Phyllis Lawson Eyles, was born in Box in 1912, presumably at the house, and the 1921 census shows them all living there.
We can try to reconstruct life for middle-class Edwardian gentlemen in the years around the First World War. They had a social responsibility, including attending garden parties, formal deference to superiors, and involvement in administrative duties or charitable work. They were people of leisure who demonstrated their connection with landed estates by hunting and shooting, eating the farm produce off their own land, and living in a detached country residence. In 1919 TWM was able to demonstrate some of these attributes when he was elected a member of the Bath & West Show.[3]
In his memoires of Ashley, Victor Painter recalled how the Eyles were wealthier than other Kingsdown families because they had a telephone, much needed when a local woodcutter, Harry Mould, got into trouble.[4]
“Mr Mould was very fond of beer and was often at the Swan Inn. One lunchtime Mr Mould had been for a drink to the Swan Inn and on his way down home through a rough, uneven footpath Mr Mould slipped and fell and broke his leg. Us boys playing around near to where Mr Mould fell soon got Mr Pullen the landlord of the Swan to come to Mr Mould. Now this was 1912, and the only persons to have a telephone was Mr and Mrs Eyles at Ashley Wood towards Bathford. So Mr Pullin himself ran down the half of mile and in due course some sort of an ambulance arrived from Bath, it was more like a van. Two men got out and they, with the help of Mr Pullin the landlord giving them a lift, they got Mr Mould in the back. Poor Mrs Mould stood by crying her eyes out, for in those days one had to stay in hospital with a broken leg for about 12 weeks. Then you were sent home on crutches. In Mr Mould's case no money was coming in while he was in hospital and Mr Mould cut and laid a hedge while still on his crutches for a Mr Lavington who had fields near Bathford Woods.”
Harry Mould at Kingsdown (courtesy John Flashman)
Memories of Milking Cows
Victor also recalled what it was like to work for Thomas Eyles as a boy at Ashley Wood.
“Ashley Wood was a gentleman's private house, where they kept two or three servants in the house, my own sister was one of them, perhaps that is how I got the job. I had to go to see the gentleman about the job, and my mother saw that I washed my face and had clean boots before going to meet him. She also told me to say ‘Sir’ to him. I remember overdoing that quite a bit. Well, never mind, he gave me the job for 6 shillings per week. The job I soon found out to be quite a few jobs.
On the first Monday morning I had to be there at 7 o'clock. A rather nice man was there in the yard waiting for me. He said I am to show you the way to milk, and after picking up two milk pails I followed him to the cowshed, which was in a nearby field. There were three cows tied up ready to be milked. The man gave me a 3-leg stool and told me to sit in under the cow with the milk pail between my knees, which was all very strange to me. Then he showed me how to pull and squeeze at the same time and out came the milk into the milk pail. This was a very quiet cow that the man put me under to milk. She didn't even move. The man said her name was Richard but they called her Dick. I didn't think that was a lady's name. The other 2 cows had the name of Gipsy and Daisy. The man had milked Daisy and Gipsy while I was milking Dick. In the afternoon about 3.30pm we went to milk these 3 cows again. So twice each day they had to be milked. Well on the 3rd day after I had milked all the 3 cows in turn, the man thought I was a good enough milker to milk them every day on my own. And he did not come to the house again. His job was looking after a 200-acre farm growing corn also looking after lots of young cattle that ran in the fields that belonged to the gentleman that didn't seem to get up too early in the morning.
What we had to do with the milk was to carry it back to the house and down some steps to a very cool underground room where on some slate slabs stood many metal pans not too deep but very wide. The man told me they were called spreaders. After the milk was strained through sieves and muslin cloth, there was a jug filled up for the household and the rest of the milk was poured into the pans. The milk pails were then washed ready for the afternoon milking.”
Victor also recalled what it was like to work for Thomas Eyles as a boy at Ashley Wood.
“Ashley Wood was a gentleman's private house, where they kept two or three servants in the house, my own sister was one of them, perhaps that is how I got the job. I had to go to see the gentleman about the job, and my mother saw that I washed my face and had clean boots before going to meet him. She also told me to say ‘Sir’ to him. I remember overdoing that quite a bit. Well, never mind, he gave me the job for 6 shillings per week. The job I soon found out to be quite a few jobs.
On the first Monday morning I had to be there at 7 o'clock. A rather nice man was there in the yard waiting for me. He said I am to show you the way to milk, and after picking up two milk pails I followed him to the cowshed, which was in a nearby field. There were three cows tied up ready to be milked. The man gave me a 3-leg stool and told me to sit in under the cow with the milk pail between my knees, which was all very strange to me. Then he showed me how to pull and squeeze at the same time and out came the milk into the milk pail. This was a very quiet cow that the man put me under to milk. She didn't even move. The man said her name was Richard but they called her Dick. I didn't think that was a lady's name. The other 2 cows had the name of Gipsy and Daisy. The man had milked Daisy and Gipsy while I was milking Dick. In the afternoon about 3.30pm we went to milk these 3 cows again. So twice each day they had to be milked. Well on the 3rd day after I had milked all the 3 cows in turn, the man thought I was a good enough milker to milk them every day on my own. And he did not come to the house again. His job was looking after a 200-acre farm growing corn also looking after lots of young cattle that ran in the fields that belonged to the gentleman that didn't seem to get up too early in the morning.
What we had to do with the milk was to carry it back to the house and down some steps to a very cool underground room where on some slate slabs stood many metal pans not too deep but very wide. The man told me they were called spreaders. After the milk was strained through sieves and muslin cloth, there was a jug filled up for the household and the rest of the milk was poured into the pans. The milk pails were then washed ready for the afternoon milking.”
Poultry for Eggs and Meat
“Unknown to me then there were around 150 hens in the big field called Thirty Acres. These hens were in lots of about 50 spread out in 3 houses at rather long distance apart. Now these 3 lots of hens had to be fed and watered. So in the kitchen on the stove the cook had cooked potato rinds (peelings) etc. Into a big bucket was tipped the contents all hot after chopping up and mixing meal into the bucket making a lovely food. We set off to part up the big bucket of the mixture in equal parts to each of the 3 houses, carrying a 3 gallon can of water at the same time to fill up the troughs. In the afternoon these hens were fed again, this time with corn. So that was not such a hard job. The only thing was that every night I had to go back to this field and pen up these hens in their 3 houses so they were safe from the foxes. In the summer time it was 10 o'clock before the hens thought of going to bed. And I lived a half a mile away. But the man said this was part of the job for six shilling per week that I had taken on.”
Domestic Duties
“The milking done, I followed the man up into the back kitchen. There on the floor in one corner was a heap of boots and shoes belonging to the gentleman and lady. The man said we take them over to the saddle room that was across a big yard where the stable and coach house was, and in the saddle room were lots of harness hung up, also saddles and griddles. It was a lovely big room with a table at one end near a window. On the table there was a wooden box; it held the shoe and boot blacking in 2 colours black and brown, and many brushes. The first job the man said was get the mud off the boots and shoes first with a sponge made wet by first getting some water in a bucket from a tap fixed just outside the stable door not far away. After getting the mud off, the boots and shoes were having their coat of blacking, only this was brown, but both tins said Day and Martin's Blacking. I thought I was going to have a lot to remember, what with the cow called Richard and the brown blacking called black. Well, true enough what the man said. Once this blacking dried on the boots and shoes and the shining brush was used with quite a bit of pressure from your hands and arms they really did shine. The job done, so we carry them back to the kitchen. It was a dry and fine morning that day. But the man told me if it was ever raining there was a sheet kept in the saddle room to use over the boots and shoes while you ran across the yard with them, even if you had to go twice. I thought there were enough boots and shoes to even make 3 journeys.
Well putting down the boots and shoes a servant came and took them off to the gentry's side of the house, and the man said the next job was to pick up this box of knives. There were about 40 knives in the box. Away again to the saddle room where, fixed to one side of this big table, was what the man said was a knife machine. And true enough there were places to put in two table knives at the same time and by turning a handle for about 10 times you could pull them two out and put in 2 more. And other than dusting the knives off before putting them back into the knife box, they were very clean. The carving knife had to be put in a separate slot on the machine. Well now, on returning the knives back to the kitchen, there were then the big coalscuttles to be filled up. In a back garden was the coal sheds. So off to go with 2 of the scuttles, one in each hand, to the coal shed and after cracking some big lumps of coal into smaller lumps, one then filled up the scuttles and carried them back to the kitchen. Next was to carry away the ashes that had been cleaned out from the house fire grates by one of the servants. These small jobs done, one then had to go to the laundry, which was a very large wooden building right on the side of the stable yard. Inside there was standing in the middle of the room a large copper boiler. It held about 30 gallons of water. So from the water tap in the stable yard with the aid of a bucket one ran backwards and forwards until the boiler was almost full. Then the next job was to go to a woodshed and find some nice dry wood and get a fire going with a bucket of coal from the coal shed to feed the fire because the water in the boiler had to be on the boil by 9am; that was when the laundress came to start work. The laundress was my mother's sister, Aunt Sarah to me. But that made no difference about being a relation. The water just had to boil and be ready every Monday morning sharp on 9 o'clock.”
“Unknown to me then there were around 150 hens in the big field called Thirty Acres. These hens were in lots of about 50 spread out in 3 houses at rather long distance apart. Now these 3 lots of hens had to be fed and watered. So in the kitchen on the stove the cook had cooked potato rinds (peelings) etc. Into a big bucket was tipped the contents all hot after chopping up and mixing meal into the bucket making a lovely food. We set off to part up the big bucket of the mixture in equal parts to each of the 3 houses, carrying a 3 gallon can of water at the same time to fill up the troughs. In the afternoon these hens were fed again, this time with corn. So that was not such a hard job. The only thing was that every night I had to go back to this field and pen up these hens in their 3 houses so they were safe from the foxes. In the summer time it was 10 o'clock before the hens thought of going to bed. And I lived a half a mile away. But the man said this was part of the job for six shilling per week that I had taken on.”
Domestic Duties
“The milking done, I followed the man up into the back kitchen. There on the floor in one corner was a heap of boots and shoes belonging to the gentleman and lady. The man said we take them over to the saddle room that was across a big yard where the stable and coach house was, and in the saddle room were lots of harness hung up, also saddles and griddles. It was a lovely big room with a table at one end near a window. On the table there was a wooden box; it held the shoe and boot blacking in 2 colours black and brown, and many brushes. The first job the man said was get the mud off the boots and shoes first with a sponge made wet by first getting some water in a bucket from a tap fixed just outside the stable door not far away. After getting the mud off, the boots and shoes were having their coat of blacking, only this was brown, but both tins said Day and Martin's Blacking. I thought I was going to have a lot to remember, what with the cow called Richard and the brown blacking called black. Well, true enough what the man said. Once this blacking dried on the boots and shoes and the shining brush was used with quite a bit of pressure from your hands and arms they really did shine. The job done, so we carry them back to the kitchen. It was a dry and fine morning that day. But the man told me if it was ever raining there was a sheet kept in the saddle room to use over the boots and shoes while you ran across the yard with them, even if you had to go twice. I thought there were enough boots and shoes to even make 3 journeys.
Well putting down the boots and shoes a servant came and took them off to the gentry's side of the house, and the man said the next job was to pick up this box of knives. There were about 40 knives in the box. Away again to the saddle room where, fixed to one side of this big table, was what the man said was a knife machine. And true enough there were places to put in two table knives at the same time and by turning a handle for about 10 times you could pull them two out and put in 2 more. And other than dusting the knives off before putting them back into the knife box, they were very clean. The carving knife had to be put in a separate slot on the machine. Well now, on returning the knives back to the kitchen, there were then the big coalscuttles to be filled up. In a back garden was the coal sheds. So off to go with 2 of the scuttles, one in each hand, to the coal shed and after cracking some big lumps of coal into smaller lumps, one then filled up the scuttles and carried them back to the kitchen. Next was to carry away the ashes that had been cleaned out from the house fire grates by one of the servants. These small jobs done, one then had to go to the laundry, which was a very large wooden building right on the side of the stable yard. Inside there was standing in the middle of the room a large copper boiler. It held about 30 gallons of water. So from the water tap in the stable yard with the aid of a bucket one ran backwards and forwards until the boiler was almost full. Then the next job was to go to a woodshed and find some nice dry wood and get a fire going with a bucket of coal from the coal shed to feed the fire because the water in the boiler had to be on the boil by 9am; that was when the laundress came to start work. The laundress was my mother's sister, Aunt Sarah to me. But that made no difference about being a relation. The water just had to boil and be ready every Monday morning sharp on 9 o'clock.”
Importance of Horses
“One of the visible ways of demonstrating class was in the use of transport. The ability to buy, keep and use horses for personal trips was a classic sign of a gentleman. “On returning to the house after feeding the hens I was taken to the stable. Inside was a lovely horse and the man said his name was Squire. The horse was very quiet. After the man fed the horse with some oats and chaff I had to clean out the stable putting the manure into a wheelbarrow and taking it to a heap in the back garden. After that I had to give the horse a good brush down. Then putting down new straw for the bedding and giving the horse some hay that was kept in the loft above the stable. One got up there by climbing a straight ladder that was fixed to the wall. The man said the gentleman rode the horse hunting. And the horse was also used in harness pulling a small carriage called a wagonette, a four wheeled vehicle. There were two brass carriage lamps on the wagonette, which had to be polished, and a brass handle whip. And the 4 wheel hubs were of brass.
Each time the carriage was used the brasses had to be cleaned. The lamps had largish candles inside that worked on a spring as the candles burnt down, so it was pushed up by the spring. Well do you know by the time these few jobs were done it was 10am. And the man took me to the back kitchen, called the scullery, the under servants' part of the house, whereby the kitchen maid made us two lovely cups of cocoa made from hot milk, not water like I was used to at home. We both got a slice of cake as well. Perhaps we did very well because it was my own sister that made the cocoa. She was the kitchen maid. Though I wasn't allowed to talk to her, that was one of the rules. Well it was then that the man was about to leave me and go back to his jobs on the farm. At the same time the gentleman came out from the front door. And it was then that he took me to the woodshed and pointing to 10 or 12 bundles of wood, what people in those days called faggots, told me to chop them up into small pieces, ready for kindle wood. He shut the door of the shed. He said to keep me warm. It was not long before I was so hot chopping that first I pulled off my coat. A little later my waistcoat, then my collar and tie. When I had almost finished the chopping of all the bundles of wood, I was really very hot and at that time the door came open and it was the gentlemen himself. On seeing the big heap of wood all cut up nice and small he was delighted. He said, "You are the best boy I have ever had and I am going to give you six pence every week for yourself," which he did, so I can claim that I had a rise the first day at work.
On every Wednesday morning there was a stove to light, this was in the laundry room near to the big copper boiler that was already being used by the laundress, steam was everywhere. Now this stove the gentleman was showing me was what was called an ironing stove, It had a ledge all the way around it and these flat irons were placed on the ledge, about 8 of them. And on a very long table the laundress pressed big sheets, towels and shirts and all kinds of clothes with the flat iron. Once one iron had lost its heat she changed it for a hot one, this went on all day. Well now what a surprise, the gentleman took me into the big saddle room and first showing me the harness that was used on the horse when pulling the wagonette, that he said had to be cleaned and the brasses polished each time it was used. Also the saddle and bridle were cleaned each time and that was every day except Sundays.
Now right at the very back of this saddle room was a lovely bike, a BSA, the make, and it had 3 speeds and the chain was all cased in. It was the best money would buy. He said I was to ride this bike when they needed me to go on errands to the village, sometimes to Bath City. The law was laid down that I didn't have to let any other boy have a ride or was ever to ride it home to dinner or anything like that. Anyway, I felt a very big man to think I was going to ride this lovely bike. We had had a few very old bikes at home in our time, that is how I learnt to ride of course, but there was no bike on the whole of Kingsdown that came up to this BSA.”
“One of the visible ways of demonstrating class was in the use of transport. The ability to buy, keep and use horses for personal trips was a classic sign of a gentleman. “On returning to the house after feeding the hens I was taken to the stable. Inside was a lovely horse and the man said his name was Squire. The horse was very quiet. After the man fed the horse with some oats and chaff I had to clean out the stable putting the manure into a wheelbarrow and taking it to a heap in the back garden. After that I had to give the horse a good brush down. Then putting down new straw for the bedding and giving the horse some hay that was kept in the loft above the stable. One got up there by climbing a straight ladder that was fixed to the wall. The man said the gentleman rode the horse hunting. And the horse was also used in harness pulling a small carriage called a wagonette, a four wheeled vehicle. There were two brass carriage lamps on the wagonette, which had to be polished, and a brass handle whip. And the 4 wheel hubs were of brass.
Each time the carriage was used the brasses had to be cleaned. The lamps had largish candles inside that worked on a spring as the candles burnt down, so it was pushed up by the spring. Well do you know by the time these few jobs were done it was 10am. And the man took me to the back kitchen, called the scullery, the under servants' part of the house, whereby the kitchen maid made us two lovely cups of cocoa made from hot milk, not water like I was used to at home. We both got a slice of cake as well. Perhaps we did very well because it was my own sister that made the cocoa. She was the kitchen maid. Though I wasn't allowed to talk to her, that was one of the rules. Well it was then that the man was about to leave me and go back to his jobs on the farm. At the same time the gentleman came out from the front door. And it was then that he took me to the woodshed and pointing to 10 or 12 bundles of wood, what people in those days called faggots, told me to chop them up into small pieces, ready for kindle wood. He shut the door of the shed. He said to keep me warm. It was not long before I was so hot chopping that first I pulled off my coat. A little later my waistcoat, then my collar and tie. When I had almost finished the chopping of all the bundles of wood, I was really very hot and at that time the door came open and it was the gentlemen himself. On seeing the big heap of wood all cut up nice and small he was delighted. He said, "You are the best boy I have ever had and I am going to give you six pence every week for yourself," which he did, so I can claim that I had a rise the first day at work.
On every Wednesday morning there was a stove to light, this was in the laundry room near to the big copper boiler that was already being used by the laundress, steam was everywhere. Now this stove the gentleman was showing me was what was called an ironing stove, It had a ledge all the way around it and these flat irons were placed on the ledge, about 8 of them. And on a very long table the laundress pressed big sheets, towels and shirts and all kinds of clothes with the flat iron. Once one iron had lost its heat she changed it for a hot one, this went on all day. Well now what a surprise, the gentleman took me into the big saddle room and first showing me the harness that was used on the horse when pulling the wagonette, that he said had to be cleaned and the brasses polished each time it was used. Also the saddle and bridle were cleaned each time and that was every day except Sundays.
Now right at the very back of this saddle room was a lovely bike, a BSA, the make, and it had 3 speeds and the chain was all cased in. It was the best money would buy. He said I was to ride this bike when they needed me to go on errands to the village, sometimes to Bath City. The law was laid down that I didn't have to let any other boy have a ride or was ever to ride it home to dinner or anything like that. Anyway, I felt a very big man to think I was going to ride this lovely bike. We had had a few very old bikes at home in our time, that is how I learnt to ride of course, but there was no bike on the whole of Kingsdown that came up to this BSA.”
Ornamental Gardens
“The gentleman then showed me around the garden; on the front of the house were two lawns in which he said I would mow each week with a hand mower. And the paths everywhere in front of house and all through kitchen garden were of gravel and weeds grew, so they had to be hoed off and cleaned up. In the back yard were two big dog kennels, these he said were to be cleaned out each Saturday morning and new clean straw had to be put in. The whole yard had to be brushed up, and the gravel drive that was from the road to the front door and away to the stable and coach house. This I had to rake with an iron rake and pick up any bit of straw or hay that might have blown about.
Well now it was 1 o'clock, I could go home and tell my mother of my life the first day at Ashley Wood. I had to be back by 2 o'clock, a few jobs like brushing up I had to do, then it was gone 3 o'clock and the nice man came again and off to milk the 3 cows once more, and to feed the hens with corn. The gentleman had been out riding the horse, so the horse had to be brushed down and given food and his straw bed shook up, the saddle and bridle cleaned. By then 5 o'clock, so one went home, finished work for the first day, other than going back before it got too dark to shut up the 3 lots of hens in their houses. That was in the late part of the year of 1918. War had almost ended; peace had been already declared.
“The gentleman then showed me around the garden; on the front of the house were two lawns in which he said I would mow each week with a hand mower. And the paths everywhere in front of house and all through kitchen garden were of gravel and weeds grew, so they had to be hoed off and cleaned up. In the back yard were two big dog kennels, these he said were to be cleaned out each Saturday morning and new clean straw had to be put in. The whole yard had to be brushed up, and the gravel drive that was from the road to the front door and away to the stable and coach house. This I had to rake with an iron rake and pick up any bit of straw or hay that might have blown about.
Well now it was 1 o'clock, I could go home and tell my mother of my life the first day at Ashley Wood. I had to be back by 2 o'clock, a few jobs like brushing up I had to do, then it was gone 3 o'clock and the nice man came again and off to milk the 3 cows once more, and to feed the hens with corn. The gentleman had been out riding the horse, so the horse had to be brushed down and given food and his straw bed shook up, the saddle and bridle cleaned. By then 5 o'clock, so one went home, finished work for the first day, other than going back before it got too dark to shut up the 3 lots of hens in their houses. That was in the late part of the year of 1918. War had almost ended; peace had been already declared.
Changes in the Great War
The First World War and the Depression of the 1920s altered society and financial stability for many middle-class families in Britain. TWM Eyles described his occupation in Box as a farmer, although he only held a smallholding of 63 acres.[5] He was probably more of a hobby farmer who lived off his income from investments. A remarkable incident occurred there in 1918, shortly before WW1 ended.[6] Second Lieutenant Duffey of the RAF was on scouting practice, got lost, and attempted to land in TWM's field. The plane crashed and Duffey was expelled, miraculously surviving. TWM took him home to Ashley Wood to recuperate.
By 1920 the postwar boom after the Great War was over and Box was particularly affected by unemployment in the building industry and lay-offs in farming enterprises. The Corn Production Act of 1917 ended fixed prices for corn and oats and their prices fell and Box stone workers went on strike against low wages in September 1921. By trying to fix the pound to the gold standard, bank rates were raised with a dramatic fall in the value of fixed investments. We don’t know if these factors affected the Eyles and their investments but they made a dramatic change in the early 1920s which Victor Painter described as “Mr and Mrs Eyles lived there (at Ashley Wood) with their daughter Phyllis until about 1920 when, unknown to everyone except themselves, they moved out of Ashley Wood land into Victory Cottage. Ashley Wood was rented from Mr Eyles by Reverend Bridgewater and his wife that had retired from a church near Filton, Winford near Bristol.” Rev Cuthbert only lived there for a few years as he died in 1926 but his wife Edith continued there until her death in 1939.
The First World War and the Depression of the 1920s altered society and financial stability for many middle-class families in Britain. TWM Eyles described his occupation in Box as a farmer, although he only held a smallholding of 63 acres.[5] He was probably more of a hobby farmer who lived off his income from investments. A remarkable incident occurred there in 1918, shortly before WW1 ended.[6] Second Lieutenant Duffey of the RAF was on scouting practice, got lost, and attempted to land in TWM's field. The plane crashed and Duffey was expelled, miraculously surviving. TWM took him home to Ashley Wood to recuperate.
By 1920 the postwar boom after the Great War was over and Box was particularly affected by unemployment in the building industry and lay-offs in farming enterprises. The Corn Production Act of 1917 ended fixed prices for corn and oats and their prices fell and Box stone workers went on strike against low wages in September 1921. By trying to fix the pound to the gold standard, bank rates were raised with a dramatic fall in the value of fixed investments. We don’t know if these factors affected the Eyles and their investments but they made a dramatic change in the early 1920s which Victor Painter described as “Mr and Mrs Eyles lived there (at Ashley Wood) with their daughter Phyllis until about 1920 when, unknown to everyone except themselves, they moved out of Ashley Wood land into Victory Cottage. Ashley Wood was rented from Mr Eyles by Reverend Bridgewater and his wife that had retired from a church near Filton, Winford near Bristol.” Rev Cuthbert only lived there for a few years as he died in 1926 but his wife Edith continued there until her death in 1939.
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Fancy Dress Parties given by Mrs Eyles and Mrs Harold Fortt in 1921 (courtesy Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette, 8 January 1921)
Social Life in the Area
The leasing of Ashley Wood produced a secure income for the Eyles and TWM was able to enjoy a wide range of his interests, particularly golf, which was one of his major pleasures. He was a very good golfer and won The Autumn Cup, one of Kingsdown Golf Club’s premier trophies in 1924 and again in 1928. The trophy had been awarded to the club in 1912 by Captain CMA Samuda and officers in the 3rd Somerset Light Infantry in gratitude of the hospitality shown during the battalion’s camp on the Downs.[7] He took over the duties of honorary secretary and honorary treasurer of the Golf Club in the middle of the Great War in October 1915 and continued until 1931. These were difficult times at the Golf Club, with many club members being on active service, resulting in the closure of the club’s activities from 1917 to March 1919.
Wartime disruption resulted in huge social and economic changes in England. In 1920 a dispute arose between TWM and club member JH Collins.[8] The nature of the complaint is unknown but TWM objected to the tone of the complaint and threatened to resign from the club. He was supported by the committee and it was Mr Collins who was obliged to resign. TWM’s status in the 1920s was sufficiently high that meetings of the committee were held in Ashley Wood. Under his guidance, the club initiated plans to build a new clubhouse on the main Kingsdown Road in 1924. He was also instrumental in engaging a professional golfer at the club in 1926 and in extending the course by leasing parcels of land from the Fuller Estate in 1931. That year Cyril Brook Northey took over as treasurer, leaving TWM as secretary, although both men resigned a year later and new blood took over. TWM was granted an Honorary Life membership of the club in 1935.
TWM had other local interests. He was secretary of the Bath Horse Show in the 1930s along with fellow Box resident RW Tilley; and the local representative for the Avon Vale Hunt. His wife Elizabeth Jane was active in the Bath Operatic Society. TWM mixed in a distinguished circle of associates. As well as the Northey family in Box, he and his wife had a long friendship with Frederick Harold Fortt and Arthur Bertram Fortt of Bath, who owned the rights to the Bath Oliver biscuit. The families were all founder members of the Bath Amateur Dramatic Society in 1909 and put on local concerts and events.[9] The men were also active in Freemasonry, particularly the Royal Cumberland Masonic Lodge in Bath.[10]
The Eyles returned to Ashley Wood in 1939 after Edith Bridgewater’s death and they stayed there throughout the Second World War when TWM served in the ARP (Air Raid Precautions). Elizabeth Jane died in 1956, shortly after their golden wedding anniversary. TWM married again to Miriam Dora Morgan in 1957 but he died at Ashley Wood two years later in 1959. He and both wives are buried in Box Cemetery in plot MA06 (Miriam died in 1983).
The leasing of Ashley Wood produced a secure income for the Eyles and TWM was able to enjoy a wide range of his interests, particularly golf, which was one of his major pleasures. He was a very good golfer and won The Autumn Cup, one of Kingsdown Golf Club’s premier trophies in 1924 and again in 1928. The trophy had been awarded to the club in 1912 by Captain CMA Samuda and officers in the 3rd Somerset Light Infantry in gratitude of the hospitality shown during the battalion’s camp on the Downs.[7] He took over the duties of honorary secretary and honorary treasurer of the Golf Club in the middle of the Great War in October 1915 and continued until 1931. These were difficult times at the Golf Club, with many club members being on active service, resulting in the closure of the club’s activities from 1917 to March 1919.
Wartime disruption resulted in huge social and economic changes in England. In 1920 a dispute arose between TWM and club member JH Collins.[8] The nature of the complaint is unknown but TWM objected to the tone of the complaint and threatened to resign from the club. He was supported by the committee and it was Mr Collins who was obliged to resign. TWM’s status in the 1920s was sufficiently high that meetings of the committee were held in Ashley Wood. Under his guidance, the club initiated plans to build a new clubhouse on the main Kingsdown Road in 1924. He was also instrumental in engaging a professional golfer at the club in 1926 and in extending the course by leasing parcels of land from the Fuller Estate in 1931. That year Cyril Brook Northey took over as treasurer, leaving TWM as secretary, although both men resigned a year later and new blood took over. TWM was granted an Honorary Life membership of the club in 1935.
TWM had other local interests. He was secretary of the Bath Horse Show in the 1930s along with fellow Box resident RW Tilley; and the local representative for the Avon Vale Hunt. His wife Elizabeth Jane was active in the Bath Operatic Society. TWM mixed in a distinguished circle of associates. As well as the Northey family in Box, he and his wife had a long friendship with Frederick Harold Fortt and Arthur Bertram Fortt of Bath, who owned the rights to the Bath Oliver biscuit. The families were all founder members of the Bath Amateur Dramatic Society in 1909 and put on local concerts and events.[9] The men were also active in Freemasonry, particularly the Royal Cumberland Masonic Lodge in Bath.[10]
The Eyles returned to Ashley Wood in 1939 after Edith Bridgewater’s death and they stayed there throughout the Second World War when TWM served in the ARP (Air Raid Precautions). Elizabeth Jane died in 1956, shortly after their golden wedding anniversary. TWM married again to Miriam Dora Morgan in 1957 but he died at Ashley Wood two years later in 1959. He and both wives are buried in Box Cemetery in plot MA06 (Miriam died in 1983).
Conclusion
The introduction of Estate Duty in 1894 was of significance to landed estates in the early years of the twentieth century when rates were increased from 1%-8% in 1894 to 15% for estates over £1 million in 1910 to 40% for estates over £2 million in 1919. Whilst these rates affected larger estates who had to sell land to fund tax, they also offered opportunities for others to acquire land and build homes. TWM Eyles’s purchase of the Ashley Wood land was one such example of the rise of middle-class landed estates.
The introduction of Estate Duty in 1894 was of significance to landed estates in the early years of the twentieth century when rates were increased from 1%-8% in 1894 to 15% for estates over £1 million in 1910 to 40% for estates over £2 million in 1919. Whilst these rates affected larger estates who had to sell land to fund tax, they also offered opportunities for others to acquire land and build homes. TWM Eyles’s purchase of the Ashley Wood land was one such example of the rise of middle-class landed estates.
References
[1] London Evening Standard, 8 June 1903
[2] Bristol Times and Mirror, 28 October 1911
[3] The Wiltshire News, 30 May 1919
[4] https://www.choghole.co.uk/victor/victormain.htm
[5] The Wiltshire Times, 18 April 1931
[6] The Bath Chronicle, 4 May 1918
[7] Kingsdown Golf Club Minute Book, Wiltshire History Centre, Collection 3325/1, 9 July 1912
[8] Kingsdown Golf Club Minute Book, Wiltshire History Centre, Collection 3325/1, 7 February 1920
[9] The Bath Chronicle, 29 June 1909 and 9 February 1911
[10] The Bath Chronicle, 3 February 1912 and 26 April 1913
[1] London Evening Standard, 8 June 1903
[2] Bristol Times and Mirror, 28 October 1911
[3] The Wiltshire News, 30 May 1919
[4] https://www.choghole.co.uk/victor/victormain.htm
[5] The Wiltshire Times, 18 April 1931
[6] The Bath Chronicle, 4 May 1918
[7] Kingsdown Golf Club Minute Book, Wiltshire History Centre, Collection 3325/1, 9 July 1912
[8] Kingsdown Golf Club Minute Book, Wiltshire History Centre, Collection 3325/1, 7 February 1920
[9] The Bath Chronicle, 29 June 1909 and 9 February 1911
[10] The Bath Chronicle, 3 February 1912 and 26 April 1913