Life with the Brethren (2)
Mr. Ernest Cox was one of the Elders at Chelsea Gospel Hall. You will remember that he was a jobbing builder, and that my Dad had worked for him during World War II.
Ernie Cox hailed from the Devizes, Wiltshire area, as did his wife Bessie (Lancaster) who grew up on a farm there.
Ernie was our Sunday School Superintendent. The 1950’s were days of huge Sunday Schools in Great Britain, and ours was the largest in the area. I do believe that Ernie loved and cared for children, in the best possible way, and longed for them to “give their hearts to Jesus”.
The Sunday School attracted many children from the neighborhood, and the highlight of the year would be the annual “Outing” to Weston-Super-Mare. All the local Sunday Schools would hire coaches (‘buses) for the event, and we would be allowed to take that day off from School.
The Chelsea Gospel Hall Sunday School always had the largest outing - one year we hired 13 coaches (the old-timers still called them “Char-a-bancs” , or “Charas”). We always hired “Princess Mary Coaches” (the name of the company), on the basis that one of their drivers was a member of the Brethren.
(I would guess that the coaches seated 30-35 people - hence our outing would be for some 400 people).
(One year we went by train, a “special” which took us from our local “Stapleton Road Station” to Weston-super-Mare’s “Locking Road Station).
Ernie Cox would board each coach to say a prayer before we set out - delaying the start - much to our frustration. Weston-Super-Mare is only about 22 miles from Bristol, but our outing was a big adventure.
We would long for good weather, for the resort was a miserable place in the rain. We’d also hope for a high tide, for Weston is on the Severn Estuary which has the second largest difference in high and low tides in the world. (The largest is the Bay of Fundy in Canada). If the tide were “out” we’d have to wade through great mud banks to get to the water.
We’d make sand-castles, and always take a ride on the beach donkeys. We’d wander the shops, take a sneak peek at the naughty postcards , and buy some seaside rock to take home. If we were "flush" we would go to "Coffins" for Fish and Chips.
At about 4:00 p.m. we’d all decamp to a local (Anglican) Church Hall, for a tea, with sandwiches, cup cakes, raisin bread and sticky buns. Bessie Cox would preside over this event with all the skill and dignity of “the wife of an Elder”.
Bessie also ran the “Women’s Meeting” on Tuesday or Wednesday afternoons. Few women worked outside of the home, and the Gospel Hall would provide a service for them, with lusty singing, a talk (sometimes by the wife of a Missionary), and refreshments.
(I remember being at one of those meetings with Mum, and a young girl with a sweet voice sang “Listen to the voice of Jesus” - from memory. I was so jealous and I knew it! I vowed that I would learn a hymn by heart, and sing it to the women!).
Ernie Cox took a special interest in our family. At one time, in the mid-fifties my parents were threatened with foreclosure as our mortgage from the Woolwich Building Society was in sad arrears.
Ernie spear-headed the raising of a loan to pay the arrears, and to paint the front of our house, from some of the more wealthy Brethren and our home was saved.
Another Elder, Mr. Ronald Spratt (an accountant) managed our family budget until that loan had been retired. Ernie would come to our home every Saturday morning, and Mum would give him a fixed sum which Mr. Spratt would apply to the loan and to the mortgage.
Mum would make a cup of tea for Ernie, which he would slurp as he drank it. He always seemed to have a “dew drop” at the end of his nose, which might drop into the tea at any time. When we learned to be scornful we would say “here comes dewdrop” when the door bell rang on Saturday mornings.
One of the happiest days for Mum and Dad was when the loan and mortgage were finally paid off, and control of family finances returned to them. The Brethren had saved our house, and thus our family, and for that I will ever be grateful. But their management of family finances had become a bit “old hat”.
Ernie Cox was one of the few Brethren to own a car - I seem to remember that it was a Standard 8 - all black and smelling of leather.
One year he and Bessie took us (I think “us” being Mum and Dad, my two older sisters, my twin sister and me) to a farm in Compton Dando, owned by another Plymouth Brother. What an adventure.
Even the name of the village “Compton Dando” was magical to me!
I have fond memories of Ernie Cox. Despite all the narrowness of his religion, he was a good man. Good in a deep sense.
During World War I (The Great War), Ernie Cox was a conscientious objector - a very hard choice in that jingoistic War. He was imprisoned for his conscience, and in prison he sewed mail bags. Who could not respect a man with such a conscience?
Ernie Cox hailed from the Devizes, Wiltshire area, as did his wife Bessie (Lancaster) who grew up on a farm there.
Ernie was our Sunday School Superintendent. The 1950’s were days of huge Sunday Schools in Great Britain, and ours was the largest in the area. I do believe that Ernie loved and cared for children, in the best possible way, and longed for them to “give their hearts to Jesus”.
The Sunday School attracted many children from the neighborhood, and the highlight of the year would be the annual “Outing” to Weston-Super-Mare. All the local Sunday Schools would hire coaches (‘buses) for the event, and we would be allowed to take that day off from School.
The Chelsea Gospel Hall Sunday School always had the largest outing - one year we hired 13 coaches (the old-timers still called them “Char-a-bancs” , or “Charas”). We always hired “Princess Mary Coaches” (the name of the company), on the basis that one of their drivers was a member of the Brethren.
(I would guess that the coaches seated 30-35 people - hence our outing would be for some 400 people).
(One year we went by train, a “special” which took us from our local “Stapleton Road Station” to Weston-super-Mare’s “Locking Road Station).
Ernie Cox would board each coach to say a prayer before we set out - delaying the start - much to our frustration. Weston-Super-Mare is only about 22 miles from Bristol, but our outing was a big adventure.
We would long for good weather, for the resort was a miserable place in the rain. We’d also hope for a high tide, for Weston is on the Severn Estuary which has the second largest difference in high and low tides in the world. (The largest is the Bay of Fundy in Canada). If the tide were “out” we’d have to wade through great mud banks to get to the water.
We’d make sand-castles, and always take a ride on the beach donkeys. We’d wander the shops, take a sneak peek at the naughty postcards , and buy some seaside rock to take home. If we were "flush" we would go to "Coffins" for Fish and Chips.
At about 4:00 p.m. we’d all decamp to a local (Anglican) Church Hall, for a tea, with sandwiches, cup cakes, raisin bread and sticky buns. Bessie Cox would preside over this event with all the skill and dignity of “the wife of an Elder”.
Bessie also ran the “Women’s Meeting” on Tuesday or Wednesday afternoons. Few women worked outside of the home, and the Gospel Hall would provide a service for them, with lusty singing, a talk (sometimes by the wife of a Missionary), and refreshments.
(I remember being at one of those meetings with Mum, and a young girl with a sweet voice sang “Listen to the voice of Jesus” - from memory. I was so jealous and I knew it! I vowed that I would learn a hymn by heart, and sing it to the women!).
Ernie Cox took a special interest in our family. At one time, in the mid-fifties my parents were threatened with foreclosure as our mortgage from the Woolwich Building Society was in sad arrears.
Ernie spear-headed the raising of a loan to pay the arrears, and to paint the front of our house, from some of the more wealthy Brethren and our home was saved.
Another Elder, Mr. Ronald Spratt (an accountant) managed our family budget until that loan had been retired. Ernie would come to our home every Saturday morning, and Mum would give him a fixed sum which Mr. Spratt would apply to the loan and to the mortgage.
Mum would make a cup of tea for Ernie, which he would slurp as he drank it. He always seemed to have a “dew drop” at the end of his nose, which might drop into the tea at any time. When we learned to be scornful we would say “here comes dewdrop” when the door bell rang on Saturday mornings.
One of the happiest days for Mum and Dad was when the loan and mortgage were finally paid off, and control of family finances returned to them. The Brethren had saved our house, and thus our family, and for that I will ever be grateful. But their management of family finances had become a bit “old hat”.
Ernie Cox was one of the few Brethren to own a car - I seem to remember that it was a Standard 8 - all black and smelling of leather.
One year he and Bessie took us (I think “us” being Mum and Dad, my two older sisters, my twin sister and me) to a farm in Compton Dando, owned by another Plymouth Brother. What an adventure.
Even the name of the village “Compton Dando” was magical to me!
I have fond memories of Ernie Cox. Despite all the narrowness of his religion, he was a good man. Good in a deep sense.
During World War I (The Great War), Ernie Cox was a conscientious objector - a very hard choice in that jingoistic War. He was imprisoned for his conscience, and in prison he sewed mail bags. Who could not respect a man with such a conscience?
I now read your blog daily.I am learning things about my family history that I don't think I otherwise could. John your memory for detail is remarkable, so keep it up please.
ReplyDeleteMartyn