My father and mother originally attended the parish church at Curdworth; my father had a good bass voice, was very fond of singing and was a member of the choir. But one day he missed a practice because he was working late in the harvest field. On the following Sunday the rector, Dr. Jones—who was a doctor of music as well as of divinity—sent a note to the choir telling those who had missed the practice not to sing.  My father was so offended that he left the church and joined the Independent—later Congregational—Chapel at Minworth. He didn’t sever his connection with the church completely for he used to take me sometimes to the morning service at Curdworth. He would usually be pressed to go into the choir and I would go with him, so he must have been forgiven for leaving. 

 […]

[…]  The Independent Chapel had been founded in 1855 and my parents had joined it when I was a small child.  I think it suited them better than the church for they were people of a radical and independent spirit. My mother later became a keen suffragette though never a ‘militant’, and they were always politically liberal. They belonged to the Chapel for the rest of their lives[.]

[…]

Amongst my earliest memories are those of the meetings which used to be held at our house in the evenings when a few men and women would come and say prayers and sing hymns.