Wilkin and Sons' Tiptree jam was First World War hit

It tells the story of how the army got its food and drink - both official rations and in private parcels.

On page 78 there is reference to a particular sort of 'pozzy' - the soldiers’ affectionate nickname for jam.

It reads: "In the Bickersteth Diaries there is mention of an officer writing home on 30 May 1915 for some 'Tiptree Farm' jam.”

I was intrigued by the reference to the still very familiar Tiptree jam, wondered what the Bickersteth Diaries were and who that anonymous "officer" was.

Further research revealed that the original diaries were accumulated by the mother of three officer sons - Burgon, Julian (a chaplain) and Morris (killed on the first day of the Somme).

For obvious reasons, most of the content of the diaries (and a number of associated letters) comes from Julian and Burgon.

It was Burgon, actually John (Burgon) Bickersteth, who yearned for Tiptree jam. The official daily jam ration for the troops was four ounces and was mostly plum and apple, made by a Yorkshire firm called Tommy Tickler’s.

As a result of that monotony soldiers wanted different flavours made by other producers. I found the original diary entry for May 30, 1915, where Burgon says: "If you could get Tiptree Farm jam in tins it would be acceptable."

At that stage he was serving as a lieutenant in the 1st (Royal) Dragoons and was behind the lines at a base camp in Rouen (northern France). It was less than a fortnight since he had arrived and he was waiting to go “up the line” into the trenches.

Undoubtedly anxious, Burgon sought solace in home comforts and, rather than Rupert Brooke’s “honey still for tea”, he yearned for Tiptree jam.

Some early Wilkin and Sons jam jars (Image: permission Wilkin & Sons Ltd)

The company, Wilkin and Sons Ltd, is, of course, still going strong and is based some eight miles from Maldon, in the village of Tiptree.

A good friend of mine is part of the senior management team there, so I told him about Burgon. He suggested I pay a visit to the present-day factory. I was really pleased to do so and, having “scrubbed up”, I donned a white coat, hair-net and beard-snood, and was given a fascinating tour of the various production lines for the jams, chutneys and sauces.

It was then time to have a look at their museum. The excellent historical display illustrates the evolution of the company from its fruit farming origins in the 1700s to the launch of preserves in 1885, right through to the global presence it has today.

There is a specific section about the Great War, which includes a British and a Prussian helmet, trench cutlery, a German shell, prisoner of war work and contemporary notices and photographs.

The descriptive text tells us that, in 1914 alone, over ten tons of strawberries, including a large proportion of the famous ‘Little Scarlet’, were made into jam.

Some 8,000 boxes of that jam were then sent directly to the front. However, things weren’t always easy, not least because 73 of their employees joined the forces.

A field of the famous ‘Little Scarlet’ strawberries (Image: permission Tiptree and Sons Lts)

There was also a shortage of precious supplies of sugar. The works came to a complete standstill on a couple of occasions, but somehow production picked up and supplies were very much in demand from those serving King and Country.

In one of the other museum cabinets there is a colourful streamer with an integral pocket for notes. This was dropped on the factory from a BE2E aircraft with a distinctive “red nose”, flown by 2nd Lieutenant Milburn, out of Stow Maries aerodrome.

The to-the-point message simply reads “Send more jam”. Clearly it wasn’t just the army abroad that enjoyed Tiptree jam.

There is another part of the museum which illustrates the evolution of the containers used by Wilkins (glass jars, but also tins). Some of these would have undoubtedly been familiar to Burgon Bickersteth – in use at home and in the Field.

The tins that were sent to him must have worked for, unlike his brother, Morris, he survived the war, went on to become an academic and poet, and was warden of Hart House at the University of Toronto.

For his services during the Great War he was awarded the Military Cross and Bar.

When the “war to end all wars” proved not to be and the second conflict of 1939-45 came along, he was Director of Army Education at the War Office and in later life was made a Member of the Order of Canada for services to education.

Burgon Bickersteth died in 1979, aged 91 – a remarkable man who probably enjoyed his Tiptree jam to the last.