From ‘muscular Christianity’ to the Second World War, discover how our ancestors kept fit <\/p>

Society\u2019s current preoccupation with buff bodies might seem like a relatively recent phenomenon, but earlier generations also had their share of fitness fads, celebrity personal trainers, and handwringing over concerns that Britain was becoming a nation of weaklings.<\/p>\n

Discover the full version of this article and more stories from history in Who Do You Think You Are? Magazine<\/em> April 2023<\/a>, on sale now<\/p>\n

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Throughout history, the poor generally got all of the exercise they needed, and more, through hard physical graft, while the wealthier classes had their hunting, cricket and brisk constitutionals. But in early Victorian times, more attention began to be paid to the mechanics of physical training. A cultural trend known as \u2018muscular Christianity\u2019 saw physical strength as closely allied to moral strength, patriotic duty and the ability to protect the weak. What\u2019s more, exercise was encouraged as a way to burn off excess energy that might be turned to no good, especially among the young.<\/p>\n

There were exercise and leisure facilities aimed at all classes. Probably the most spectacular was the Royal Patent Gymnasium, a huge outdoor facility opened in Edinburgh in 1865 by businessman and philanthropist John Cox. A combination of gym and theme park, it contained traditional exercise equipment such as parallel bars, vaulting poles and springboards along with a giant seesaw, which promised to elevate those on the ends 50 feet into the air, and the Great Sea Serpent, a circular \u2018boat\u2019 that allowed 600 people to row simultaneously. Entrance was a very reasonable 6d and, at the height of its popularity, it attracted 15,000 people a day. The gym remained in use until the end of the century, when its declining popularity meant that the site was turned into a football ground.<\/p>\n

By the early 20th century, fitness had taken on a political dimension. In a speech at the close of the First World War<\/a>, the prime minister David Lloyd George warned that if Britain was to be equal to future challenges it must \u201ctake a more constant and a more intelligent interest in the health and fitness of the people\u2026 you cannot maintain an A1 Empire with a C3 population\u201d, a reference to the fitness categories used to classify army recruits.<\/p>\n

Obviously, the most pressing concern was to improve general public health and it wasn\u2019t until the mid-1930s that attention was turned specifically to physical fitness through exercise. In 1937, the Physical Training and Recreation Act was launched along with a National Fitness Campaign to get the population moving and encourage local authorities to provide more leisure and exercise facilities. It was partly a response to the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin, where Britain came a disappointing 12th in the medals table. But there was also an urgent need for a physically robust population as the prospect of another world war loomed. Grants for the provision and training of instructors were awarded to organisations as diverse as the Amateur Athletic Association and the English Folk Dance and Song Society, and sports and fitness festivals were organised around the country to promote the campaign.<\/p>\n

However, opposition politicians claimed that the legislation was poorly funded and administered, and benefited the middle classes while doing little to address more urgent issues affecting the nation\u2019s health and fitness, such as malnutrition and poor working conditions. \u201cTo suggest physical training to a man who for seven and a half hours a day is performing herculean tasks of physical exertion [as a miner] is to talk utter rubbish,\u201d Aneurin Bevan, the future architect of the NHS<\/a>, argued in a parliamentary debate on 7 April 1937.<\/p>\n

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