Dark Hours Before the Dawn

By September, it was clear that the war was entering its closing stages. There was, however, caution (born of previous over-optimism) over how long the end game would last. Here is the Stroud News on 13th September 1918:

…the fact must not be overlooked, in this hour of success, that the German Army is still immensely powerful and unbroken…it is probable that the complete defeat of the Prussian war machine will not be encompassed before next summer – but it is certain that we have at last reached the straight road to victory…

By 18th October, the Editor felt confident enough to write: ‘We appear to be moving swiftly towards the peace which for four long years we have…been seeking’. The following week, it was stated that ‘the clearance of Belgium and France has proceeded with gratifying speed’. However, there was no avoiding the fact that the final push for victory was proving costly in terms of lives, and that the stresses and strains imposed by the long war would not be eased any time soon.

Local boys home on leave at this tense time included Fred Tyler of the 4th Hussars and Arthur Randall, who ‘astonished his relatives and friends by arriving home in kilts [sic]’ (the paper helpfully added that this was because he was in ‘a Scotch Regiment’). Also home were ‘two or three sons, in hospital blue, of Mr Ted Davis, Chalford Vale’, who ‘have delighted their relatives with their presence and appearance’. Other wounded soldiers included Archie Davis of the Royal Engineers, son of the late Thomas Davis of Marle Hill, who had four years of service, 2 years and 10 months of them spent in France. He was wounded at Delville Wood on 26th September 1916, and had been nine months recovering before being sent back to the Front. Raymond Bishop, also of Marle Hill, had seen action in both France and Italy. Wounded 18 months before at Heburterne on the Somme, he had been in hospital for four months. Lieut. Ralph Morgan, of the Royal Navy, only surviving son of the previous Baptist Minister (we have seen earlier the tragic deaths of his brothers Hywel and Richard) had paid a visit to his old friend, Mr CE Clarke of the Downs, Frampton Mansell. He was apparently ‘engaged in submarine work’. He, at least, was ‘looking “fit” ‘.

Other men would never come home again. ‘Aquaticus’ commented in early October:

A very sad finish-up is that of Pte Hook, son of Mr Hook, the builder, of Brimscombe. He joined the New Zealand Infantry about 12 months ago, and in due course came across to England, which he was revisiting for the first time in 16 years. He was home on leave for just a few days, and went across the ditch to France, where he was killed after being out there for only a few weeks. He was only 36 years old.

Edmund Hook was an old boy of Chalford church school, and he is remembered on a carved square in the panelling his father’s firm was installing in Christ Church, as well as on the family grave in the churchyard there:

Edmund Hook remembered on the family grave at Christ Church, Chalford

He had been apprenticed as a carpenter in Britain, but his profession when he enlisted in 1917 was given as ‘ploughman’. He was obviously well settled in New Zealand, where he had married Mary Jane Miles in 1916. He went out to France with the Otago Regiment on 20th March 1918, and was killed in the fighting around the Baupaume-Arras road on 25th August, during a battle in which his company lost over 50% of its original strength.

Percy Mills, who had lived on Hyde Hill, was reported killed in action on 19th September. He was ‘not quite 19 years of age’, and had been in the army for ten months, before which he had worked at Selwyn’s flock and shoddy mill on Toadsmoor. The Journal and the News both carried the following comment about the family:

Another son, who is at present on leave, has been in France four years, and has gone through a lot of fighting without a scratch. A third son has been discharged through wounds. Thus all Mr and Mrs Mills’ sons have joined the Army, and each made a splendid soldier.

On 27 September, the Allies launched a surprise attack on the German lines across the Canal du Nord, an unfinished canal the dry sections of which were as difficult to cross as those in water. Some idea of the problems thrown up by the terrain can be gleaned from this photo of a field kitchen being transported across the canal bed over sand bags:

The fighting on that first day was brutal and bloody, and ended the lives of three local men.

Chester Goodfield from Frampton Mansell was the son of Charles Goodfield, Mr Clarke’s shepherd. He and his brothers had attended the church school in Chalford, and the family were devout Baptists. A farm labourer, he had joined up in 1914, and – an obviously capable man – had risen to the rank of sergeant in the Royal Fusiliers. He had also been awarded the Military Medal. He was 25 when he was killed. His brother Albert had perished in 1917, and another brother, Ernest, had been taken prisoner of war in March during the German Spring Offensive (like so many others, including my own grandfather).

Joseph Wilfred Ward, ‘a well-known and highly respected member of the community’, had been a cabinet maker, working for W.F. Drew, the successful Chalford builder, before enlisting on November 2nd, 1916. He was sent to France in April 1917, and was 34 at the time of his death seventeen months later. The Journal published a tribute to him:

He was an active member in connection with the cause at France Congregational Church, and he will be greatly missed. The gallant soldier, who rendered faithful service to his country, and his widow [Mildred], who is left with two children, belonged to old and respected Chalford families…His three brothers, Willie (an old soldier), Archie, and Ellis, have all been to France, the latter having been wounded.

The third Chalford man to die that day was Clifford Brazneill, aged 21, whose family lived at Pontings Farm, where his father was a labourer. He had worked in the umbrella stick factory before enlisting.

But untimely death wasn’t only the preserve of the battlefield:

The influenza epidemic is very severe in the Chalford district, and business and trade is only carried on with great difficulty. Unfortunately, there have been two or three deaths, the victims include Miss Jellyman, daughter of Mr and Mrs Jellyman of the Railway Tavern, Brownshill, and a Mr Roberts, who resided on Rack Hill, and was engaged in connection with the Government timber felling in the High Wood. He had only recently come into the district in perfect health…Miss Jellyman, who was a school teacher at the France Lynch Church of England School, was a well-known young lady, and her untimely decease has occasioned widespread regret and also sympathy to her bereaved family…She was engaged at the school as usual on Friday, and was taken ill at night. The illness developed rapidly, and she died on Sunday night. Deceased was an exceedingly capable girl and of excellent disposition, and her death is a great loss to the school and neighbourhood. (Stroud Journal)

Poor Alice Violet Jellyman was typical of many victims of the disease, being young – only 21 – and healthy, and dying impossibly quickly. So terribly sad.

 

 

 

 

Gerald Drummond: photographer

Gerald Drummond

Harvey Gerald Binns Drummond was killed in action on 3rd September 1918, aged 20. A Lieutenant in the Scots Guards:

He was commanding the right flank at the time and was very gallantly cheering them on in a most successful attack when he and his orderly, Pte Astlett, were hit by a shell. Gerald was killed instantaneously and would have known nothing. He was hit in several places…his orderly died shortly afterwards. He was most popular with both officers and men and was a most valuable and capable officer. I was personally very fond of him and I shall miss him much. After his company commander was wounded in an attack on the 21st of August, he took command and very ably led his company forward to the final objective. He also commanded his company in a completely successful attack on August 23rd. I had sent his name in for a M.C. for his gallantry, coolness and ability during the period August 21st to August 23rd. (Sir Victor MacKenzie, Commander of the Scots Guards, in a letter to Gerald’s parents, quoted in the ‘News’)

…he is the greatest possible loss to the Regiment, quite one of our most promising boys…He was beloved by both officers and men…who followed him with implicit confidence and love. (Smith Neill, Colonel of the Regiment, in another letter, also quoted in the ‘News’)

Gerald was born in London in 1898. In 1901, the census records him, a small child of two, living with his parents, Archibald and Helen Drummond, and his slightly older sister, also called Helen (but known as Susan), at 117 Ashley Gardens, Westminster. His father was a retired Major, who had served with the Scots Guards. A few years later, the family moved to live in the Chantry, Bisley. Gerald was educated at Harrow and Sandhurst, but spent his holidays in Bisley. He was given a camera when still a young boy – around 11 years of age – and left an extraordinary legacy: his vision of the world around him, the things that fascinated him – buildings and trains, local events, friends and family. He developed the images himself, and mounted them in what Juliet Shipman (in her book Bisley: A Cotswold Village Remembered) describes as ‘six large green and gold albums’. I asked her about the location of these volumes, and she said no-one knew any more. Which was, to say the least, disappointing! So it was with excitement that, while involved in a project with Gloucestershire Archives, cataloguing the collection of photographs amassed by the late Stanley Gardiner, I came across the following note by Stan:

The next 58 frames are taken from five albums of photos taken by Gerald Drummond of the Chantry, Bisley …Apparently his room at The Chantry was…locked up [after his death] and left undisturbed by the family. When the house was sold to a Mr Churchill (in the 20s?), the contents seemed to have gone with it and he found these albums in the locked room. Eventually they passed to Mr Churchill’s grand-daughter who passed them to us for our perusal. She now (May ’84) wishes to dispose of them and we have suggested they should go to the Records Office.

I can’t find any record of the albums in either the local or national archives, so it appears the woman in question did not take Stan’s advice. Stan only copied the photos that interested him – local scenes, and trains, on the whole. Hugely better than nothing, but I should love to see what Gerald recorded of his military life.

Here are a few sample pictures, courtesy Glos Archives and Mike Mills:

Family group, April 1910

Nether Lypiatt Manor, April 1912

‘Hospital Sunday’ in Bisley

His father had suggested as early as October 1914 that a ‘Roll of Honour’ would be needed for Bisley:

…if, as I fear must happen, some will not come back, it will be some little consolation to wife, parent and children to see that their patriotism was appreciated. ( The ‘News’)

Gerald at that time would have been only 16, and his father must have hoped that the war would be over before he was old enough to serve. It is a terrible irony that Major Drummond’s own son would be so commemorated, and that the memorial was no consolation at all – the Major died of grief in February 1921, aged 67, having, as we have seen, sealed his son’s room with all its contents, reminders of the young man.

 

 

 

Dutiful unto death…

As LP Hartley said, “The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there.” Just how differently is made plain to us in the fates of two Chalford men, both called Albert, both Baptists, both cabinet makers, who died within ten days of each other in late summer 1918. Both appear in this photograph of the local branch of the temperance society known as ‘The International Order of the Good Templars’ (which still exists, though no longer has a presence in Chalford!):

Members of the Golden Valley lodge of the IOGT, c.1901

The deep sense of duty that drove these unassuming men from their peaceful everyday lives to ‘do their bit’ fighting in the Great War is completely alien to us.

Albert Griffin, a figure familiar from earlier posts, had moved to Bath for work in 1913, and enlisted promptly in the Royal Engineers in August 1914 – he joined up because he felt it his duty toward the ‘coming generation’:

to go forward and do what he could for the cause of righteousness and justice. He had ever a high sense of duty, and it was in this fine spirit that he cheerfully accepted hardships and ultimately made the supreme sacrifice.

In 1916 he had been commended for carrying off the field of battle, under fire, ‘no fewer than five’ fellow soldiers. He had been seriously wounded in a road accident in France in April 1917, and had not been expected to return to active duty (as recorded previously), but – presumably because of the desperate shortage of manpower – was redeployed in France in March 1918, to be killed in action on August 27th, aged 28. He had been an active and committed man, a temperance worker, and he dearly loved taking part in debates, during which ‘he expressed his opinions clearly and plainly’. He was obviously a principled and charismatic figure, the only member of the Baptist community to inspire a eulogy in those rather plodding minute books I read early on in my researches:

His was one of those faces thoughtful, bright, frank, fearless, that an artist would delight to picture as an ideal typical English Crusader. If any man went to the front impelled by duty, impelled by the sense that he was fighting for righteousness, freedom truth and liberty our brother Albert was one…

Albert Griffin

Albert King’s sweetness of nature comes down to us across the century that divides us. A devout and serious-minded man, he was a pillar of the local Baptist church, a member of their Mutual Improvement Society and an active temperance worker, being elected Chief Templar in the IOGT ‘on three different occasions’. In the 1911 census, under the space left for ‘occupation’, he detailed proudly his skills:

Cabinet maker. Maker of Tables, Chests of Drawers, Wardrobes &c in Deal & Hard woods

Albert King

At that point, he was living on his own in a small cottage in Randalls Green. He enlisted in the Royal Engineers in 1916, and served two years in France, before a  heart condition, exacerbated by military service, laid him low. He was sent back to hospital in Gosforth, Newcastle:

…on the occasion of his last visit home, he in conversation with friends remarked that when the push came it was the duty of all to do all that they possibly could for their country…News from the Front showed that he bravely did his duty – in fact he did too much, with the result that his heart became affected…

He died on the 6th September, aged 39. In a ‘touching letter’ to his fiancée, Clara Mason, Sister Bousfield – who had been in charge of his care – was quoted in the Journal as writing:

that he was quite happy and comfortable at the hospital and cheerful up to the end; that his illness took a serious turn the day before he died, and that he became unconscious an hour before the end. The Sister also mentioned that he often used to speak about Miss Mason, his fiancée, that the ‘boys’ on the ward were very good to him, and that he was a good patient and never grumbled. His case was quite hopeless from the beginning.

His body was brought back to Chalford, ‘to his little cottage on the Hill [Providence Cottage], from whence it was conveyed by loving hands to its last resting place’ in Christ Church graveyard, near the spot where his parents were buried.

Albert King’s grave

He was buried with full military honours. A Union Flag covered the coffin, and his IOGT regalia (you can see his sash in the photograph of him above) were placed on top. The VTC fired three volleys  across the grave, and the Last Post was sounded by ‘Bugler Couldrey’. He left his effects and £94 3/4d to Clara.

I have struggled to write this piece, wanting so much to do justice to these men. They exemplify the waste of ordinary lives, which should have been allowed to continue in the villages and towns of Europe and the wider World. These honest, hard-working men, with their enthusiasms, family and friends – all gone. Their families devastated, their friends bereft, their skills lost (I wonder whether any of their furniture remains?).

At the same time, several men who had only recently had happy visits home, were reported as being seriously wounded. Joe Minchin ‘took part in the great British push, has been wounded and is now living in a hospital in Tonbridge’, and there was news that Osborne Gleed was also hurt – ‘believed seriously’.

 

 

 

Blackberries and Coal: austerity bites.

Blackberry season was later in 1918 than it is nowadays (100 years of global warming). When the schools went back in September, the following notice appeared in the papers:

The Journal wrote that the crop that year was – luckily – heavy:

…each elementary school is asked to collect at least three times the quantity of berries as was gathered last year. This is a tall order, but the headmasters and mistresses will no doubt encourage their flocks to buckle to in earnest, and with the prospect of sundry half holidays during September and well on into October, the stimulus imparted should be sufficient…

The  log books of local schools record frequent blackberrying excursions. I asked Sylvia Padin where they had gone to gather fruit. She didn’t remember, but suggested that it might have been along the Black Gutter.

There was also an initiative to collect fruit stones and nut shells, which were said vaguely to be of use protecting against gas attacks. Possibly no more exact details were provided for security reasons. In fact, these items, when burnt, provide a sort of charcoal ideal for the filters of gas masks. Various shops in Stroud had signed up to take in the stones and shells, and the Medical Officer of Health for the town, Dr Green, volunteered to co-ordinate collection in the district. I was charmed by a fragment of film on the Pathé website, showing boy scouts visiting Buckingham Palace to collect the royal stones and shells:

https://www.britishpathe.com/video/buckingham-palace-helps-buy-scouts-collect-fruit-s/query/NUT

The population was being asked to rein in consumption – to help the war effort in several ways. Saving resources, it was promised, also meant extra money in pockets (which could then be donated to war savings!). Here is an example of official advice on economising on food (some of the suggestions seem very familiar! Not sure about the imaginative uses of mashed potato…):

More seriously, however, households were going to have to cut back even more on coal (which also meant, at this time of town gas, gas). Large numbers of miners had enlisted, and such coal supplies as there were were being diverted to the war. A ‘Household Fuel and Lighting Order’ was passed in 1918 which imposed further restrictions on consumption. ‘The worst home crisis that we have had to face,’ thundered the headline above the notice about local arrangements. The Board of Trade advertisement published in local papers on 13th September said:

We must suffer discomfort in our homes and dislocation of our trade. But who will be so bold as to complain when he thinks of our men this winter in the ice-filled craters of Flanders, or of the Italians fighting at 20 degrees below zero, when even the lungs may freeze…

There were handy hints about how to save fuel – ‘Buy fire bricks…Do not start fires until it is really cold. Indulge less in the luxury of a hot bath. A cold bath in the morning, for those who can stand it, is more healthy and keeps you warm longer’. ‘Watch your coal like gold’, advised another public service announcement. Advertisers also made their contribution:

opportunist Rinso ad, September 1918

On a rare positive note, the National Federation of Women Workers had negotiated a pay rise of 5/- for women munition workers over 18 (2/6 for those under that age).

 

 

 

 

The Afterlife of Sidney Halliday

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The unfinished story of Sidney Halliday was reaching a conclusion as we searched and researched the various archives and sources which held the keys to unlocking the identities of our war dead. Though we knew when Sidney had died, and where, at the outset of our work he was still missing. The discovery of his remains became a symbol of all our efforts to breathe life into the list of names inscribed on the village war memorial. It brought the losses of 100 years ago into sharp, immediate focus.

Sidney Halliday

Sidney Halliday grew up in France Lynch, one of twelve children born to George and Julia Halliday, who lived in Apple Tree Cottage in the village. He was remembered as:

“…a quiet boy. He went to school and church but never sang in the choir and did not play in the games like the rest of the boys and girls in the village. He spent a lot of hours drawing and reading. His favourite book was Gentleman Jim. He had many books. He did like music and was in the village fife and drum band. He was the drummer boy.” (family memoir, by Stella Halliday, wife of Bill Halliday, Sidney’s brother)

The 1911 census shows nine of the twelve still alive, and Sidney living at home and working as a baker.

In 1913, he emigrated to Canada with his brother William, and they obtained work as farm hands in a place called Minto, Manitoba. Sidney fell in love with a girl from Winnipeg, Lizzie Walmsley, who was working as a mother’s help locally, and when he joined the 78^th Canadian Expeditionary Force, the Winnipeg Grenadiers, as a Drummer in December 1915, they exchanged rings. Crucially, Lizzie also gave Sidney a sweetheart locket, containing a lock of hair.

The Winnipeg Grenadiers took part in some of the bloodiest and most intense fighting of the war, at Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele. Sidney survived all that, and in April 1918, the ‘Stroud News’ reported that a party had been held at the France Lynch Schools to celebrate his being home on leave. There was dancing to music from the piano, the piccolo, the violin and the flute – evidently Sidney also played the flute. One can easily imagine the family’s delight at having him home again, and the festive atmosphere.

However, on the 30^th August, the paper reported that George Halliday had received news of his son’s death in action. He had been killed in the chaotic fighting as the Allies attempted to recapture Hallu, a hamlet in the Somme. The nature of the Canadians’ swift retreat from the area meant there was no time to recover bodies, which were hastily buried where they fell – either by their comrades or by the returning German forces.

The paper of 13^th September carried a report of the memorial service held for Sidney at France Lynch parish church. The Revd Wade-Evans was quoted as saying: “This gallant soldier fell in action on the morning of August 11^th in France…a quiet, unobtrusive young man, but strong and brave…”  He talked of the ‘bitterness of youthful death’. ‘Musical friends’ of Sidney’s accompanied the service. The text of the sermon was ‘Be not anxious’, and the vicar elaborated on this theme:

“He had spent years at the front, in posts of special peril. One of his friends writes to tell us that he was as brave as a lion…Like every decent and brave man he hated war, but believing that a call had come for him to go, he went. The last time he was home he seemed shaken by the awfulness of his experience, but his courage never left him. Like so many boys he was reticent about religion…”

And so it was left. With no body, there was no grave, but Sidney was listed on the Vimy monument, as well as on Chalford memorial alongside some of the boys he would have grown up with. For almost ninety years, all was very quiet, albeit with the unsatisfactory hiatus of something incomplete. But then, in 2006,  a lad of 14 in Northern France, whose family had just moved into a newly built house in Hallu, began digging for First World War memorabilia in the garden. To begin with, he found buttons and bullets, then white curved objects he took initially to be roots, but in fact proved to be ribs. He was – luckily – meticulous and systematic, excavated methodically and took photos. He found three carefully buried skeletons, then later in a mass grave another five lying one on top of the other. Eight Canadian soldiers, quickly recognised by the authorities to be part of the Winnipeg Grenadiers cut off during the battle for Hallu when the Germans seized back the initiative.

Identifying the remains was a slow and painstaking business, and in fact three of the skeletons remain anonymous. Initial research excluded all missing men not of the right height and age, which narrowed down the research to 15 possible men. Then mitochondrial DNA, the sort passed down the female line only, was sought from descendants of these men’s families – a huge and complex undertaking which necessitated virtuoso genealogical investigation.

In Sidney’s case, the only suitable DNA came from a descendant of Sidney’s aunt Jessa, Norah Clements . However, the sample proved not to be conclusive.

In parallel, a corroded locket found next to the bones, was being examined. It contained, in addition to a lock of hair, a piece of cardboard with some faded fragments of writing. These were eventually deciphered, and showed Lizzie Walmesley’s name. Sidney’s will left most of his property to his mother, but also made a bequest of $10 to Elizabeth Walmesley of Winnipeg. Thus it was that a love token finally revealed the identity of ‘Hallu 3’, as Sidney’s remains were known. The identity was scientifically confirmed by isotopic analysis of the teeth, which proved that the young man had grown up in Gloucestershire.

On 1^st October 2014, the family of Sidney Halliday were finally informed that his remains had been officially and categorically identified, and that he would be reinterred with his seven brothers in arms in the small cemetery at Caix. This happened, with full military honours, on May 13^th 2015.

Rest in peace, Sidney, no longer lost.

(With grateful thanks to Christine Gibbons and Anthea Coles).

There is a lovely film available on You Tube about the discovery of the Canadian soldiers:

(NB it can be difficult to get this film started, but it’s worth persevering!)

 

Four years on…

Appeal for women to serve, August 1918

Four years into the war, and privations were increasing. Ever more men were being demanded for the forces, the Tribunals were refusing most appeals, and civilian work was increasingly being done by women – still more of whom were needed, as this advertisement published in the Journal in August 1918 clearly shows.

Remembrance Day was observed at this time on the anniversary of the outbreak of war, August 4th. This year, it had been arranged that Cardinal Bourne, Archbishop of Westminster (who had done some of his early training at Woodchester), would visit to hold a service at the Woodchester Cross.

The event was a great success. A ‘crowd of about 5,000 persons’ gathered ‘from all parts of the district’ to partake in ‘interesting and impressive ceremonies’. Relatives of the dead commemorated on the Cross had been encouraged to leave floral tributes. The Cardinal’s sermon was reported (at length!) in the local press. The ceremony was  filmed, to be shown at the Picture House in Stroud:

advertisement for film of Bourne’s visit to Woodchester

Elsewhere, there was anxiety about jam. Rodborough Food Committee discussed the year’s poor fruit harvest, and concluded that efforts would have to be concentrated on rhubarb and blackberries…

In happier news, bacon was now off-ration, though it would have to be bought ‘from the retailer with whom you are registered’.

The Baptist minister, Revd DJH Carter, was moving to Andover, after 17 years in Chalford. During his morning sermon, he took the opportunity to have a pop at the plans for a village war memorial:

…Chalford in the future would be represented, or rather misrepresented, by a memorial which did not represent the deep and true religious feelings of the people of the people of the district. A wayside Calvary might be appropriate in a Roman Catholic country, but the enlightened and spiritually taught people of Gloucestershire should know and demand something better…not a dead Christ, but an ever-living Christ…

Revd DJ Carter

He shared with his congregation his views of a suitable memorial: ‘an Institute for the boys when they came back’, built on a piece of land recently presented to the Tabernacle:

They would be surrounded by the perils which would war against the soul; their companions who had made the great sacrifice would, he thought, look down from glory with approbation if something to protect and cheer their comrades in arms was erected on yonder plot of ground.

The August Bank Holiday was low key – the aerodrome continued to draw fascinated crowds, and the local cinemas also attracted large audiences. In mid-August, the Chalford Feast was held – ‘Messrs Hill and Sons’ galloping horses and other attractions of the village fair have been well-patronised by Chalfordians and visitors from neighbouring districts this week…’ As regards what wasn’t yet referred to as ‘tourism’ in general, fears that the continuing war, with its restricted rail services and food rationing, would adversely affect visits to the Cotswolds had proved unfounded – Amberley, Minchinhampton and Painswick had proved as popular as ever.                                                Picturesque Amberley!

There were mixed tidings about local servicemen. Jesse Sollars, of Eastcombe, serving with the RMLI,  was in hospital in Yorkshire, having been ‘severely wounded in both thighs’ in France, in May. Before enlisting, he had been with the Gloucester Constabulary, stationed in Stroud. Charles Clissold of Bussage was also in hospital, but in Rouen, injured in the back, and extremely lucky to have survived:

He was in a dug-out with three other men when an enemy shell dropped in on them. The three others were killed, and he himself was buried under them all. It was three hours before he could be retrieved.

Remarkably – and wonderfully for the Gleed family – brothers George and Osborne were both home on leave at the same time. Osborne had been absent for two years. It was noticed that George, who had been involved in the Zeebrugge Raid, still walked with a noticeable limp. Jesse Webb, fighting with the Canadian forces, had been awarded the Belgian Croix de Guerre. Another family reunion made possible by the war featured in the papers:

The family of Mr James Smart, of the Wharf, Chalford, have just heard that his grandson, bearing the same Christian name, has arrived in this country from Canada with a contingent of soldiers from the Dominion, and is at Aldershot. The young soldier is the son of the late Mr James Smart, whose death in Canada was reported several months ago. Mr Smart, sen., who has never seen his soldier grandson, is, in common with other members of his family, eagerly looking forward to meeting him.

Jim Baugh was home on his first leave – ‘looking considerably bulkier and manlier than before’.

There is a longish report about Sapper Albert E Chambers, who was well-known in Stroud, Chalford and Brimscombe, where he was currently staying with his father. Described as a ‘soldier, campanologist and musician’, he had seen 25 years’ service in the Army; involved in the telegraphic services in the South African War he had been taken prisoner by the Boers, but escaped and took part in the Relief of Mafeking. His ‘career as bandsman…began at Chalford, where he was under the tuition of the late Thomas Butt, the leader of the old Chalford band. Albert became bandmaster at 19 years of age…’ The day after the declaration of war in August 1914, he had rejoined his old regiment, the Royal Engineers and was on the fourth boat to leave for France. He was part of the retreat from Mons, and ‘says that nothing so pained him during the war as the sight of the refugees from France and Belgium, including old men, women and children, having to flee before the enemy’:

He has had some narrow escapes from shell fire, and has been buried in shell holes by explosions. After 2½years in France, he became time expired, and was sent to England to undertake important work in the telegraphic department. The local bellringers were very delighted last week to see their old comrade, and to celebrate the event the ringers of Chalford and Minchinhampton rang a Quarter Peal of Grandsire Doubles on the Chalford bells on Tuesday evening, July 30th. Albert also tried his hand with them and handled the 6th bell, although he had not rung a bell for 28 years. His name is on the list of ringers who rang the first peal on the Chalford bells after they were rehung many years ago. He is now a member of the South Norwood Silver Band.

Board commemorating peal rung at Chalford 11th November 1889

The death was reported of Fred Matthews, son of Mr Edward Matthews,

…who, sometime before the outbreak of war removed to Coventry. Deceased, who was about 24 or 25 years of age, had been at the front nearly two years, and he leaves a widow and one child. He was an excellent young man in every respect, held in the highest esteem, and was formerly a member of the Chalford Tabernacle Sunday School, where Mr Matthews senr was a teacher – he took the infant class – for between 30 and 40 years.

We had some difficulty with Fred! The Baptist memorial lists a ‘Frederick Matthews’, who proved elusive. Unhelpfully, I had also written the wrong date above my notes from the newspaper, and it was only when Heather (tactfully!) asked me to review what I had written that we were able to tie the death information to ALFRED Matthews, of the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, and track how he had moved to Coventry by 1911, where he worked first as a baker then an insurance agent. He was also a little older – actually 30 – when he died. Obviously someone who was still fondly, but inaccurately, remembered in his birthplace!

 

 

July 1918: soldiering on at home and away

Horder’s Summer Sale 1918

 

Horder’s Store, Stroud

Back in Blighty, certain aspects of life went on as before. Horder’s drapery shop (at the junction of High St and Kendrick St) was holding its summer sale, as were its rivals, Lewis and Godfrey, and Bell’s. Despite the fact that railway services had been cut drastically, there was still a rush for the seaside as July progressed.

There was no escape from the war in new clothes or sandy beaches, however, for many whose lives had been altered for ever. Mrs Couldrey, mother of  Fred – who had been killed the previous summer at Passchendaele – felt unable to carry on the family coal business without him, and had sold the concern to a Mr Holmes:

The Stroud News carried news of cases of ‘Spanish ‘flu’ among troops at the Front – a chilling first glimpse of the pandemic that would shortly spread through the general population. Other infection was giving cause for concern, too, and was beginning to be actively tackled, in a surprisingly enlightened fashion – VD. Both local papers commented favourably on the local provision, the Journal remarking:
Glad to see that an autumn campaign against venereal disease is to be waged in Stroud by certain eminently sensible and progressive councillors and the M[edical]O[fficer]. Not that Stroud necessarily requires this more than any other place in the United Kingdom, but it is  a move in the right direction, and on such a subject, of such enormous national importance, knowledge is indeed power for good, and ignorance is absolutely criminal. The coming generations, even to the third and fourth, should be considered, not so much the dignity or shamefacedness of this.

There were tidings of village lads serving in the various theatres of war. The Journal reported how W J Baugh, from Chalford Hill, who had spent the last two and a half years in Salonika without a leave, had been injured, but was recovering well. His two younger brothers were also serving – one also in Salonika, the other was ‘on an armed liner fetching the Yanks over’. The paper added that his father was a pillar of the VTC and ‘his Ma does no end of work for the boys in a quiet way’. Joe Minchin, who had worked for Mr JH Smart before joining up, was enjoying his second leave, having fought in France (also for two and a half years), seeing action at Vimy Ridge, Rheims, Messines and Lens – ‘the latter he describes as probably the most terrible affair, the Canadians especially doing great execution. Minchin holds the opinion that the operations of the RAF will tend to materially shorten the war,and he assured our representative that whereas the Germans used to send between 50 and 60 aeroplanes over the lines where he was they only have four or five now’. Reginald Gardiner, son of Mr Warneford Gardiner of Rack Hill, was also home on leave. He was involved on the Italian Front. Other local men had medals: W Liddiatt, son of Mr John Liddiatt of Coppice Hill, in the army for two years and wounded on the Western Front had been awarded the MM ‘for gallant conduct’, and Ralph Gardiner, of the RE, had received the DCM and MM.

The redoubtable Mr Feldwick of the local VTC had volunteered for some sort of defensive work on the East coast. ‘Aquaticus’, writing approvingly in the Journal, said: ‘in years he is near his three score and ten, but in heart and determination to do he is a sturdy young man’.

‘War Weapons Week’, a fundraising event that was making its way around the district, arrived in Chalford towards the end of July. It encouraged donations to war funds, suggesting that a gun would be named after each participating village. Earlier in the campaign, there had been adverts in the press – such as this one, in June:

War Weapons Week, June 1918

There had apparently been ‘hesitation’ over whether it was worthwhile its trying its luck in the village as ‘Chalford is not by any means the home of the wealthy’, but the usual forces prevailed, the two headmasters (Mr Webster and Mr Essex) acted as secretaries, and in the end donations totalled £2,972 – ‘proof that the inhabitants place every confidence in the War Savings Scheme’. £12 8s of the takings from the boy scouts’ annual jumble sale was also donated to ‘the Chalford gun’.

Charley Shergold didn’t look back…

Charles Shergold was born and grew up in Chalford Hill, one of six surviving children of George and Jane Shergold. He attended Chalford Hill School, after which he worked in St Mary’s stick mill until he enlisted in the Royal Warwickshire Regiment at the age of 18. After training on Salisbury Plain and on the far side of London, he returned home on draft leave in late spring. The family story tells how his younger brother Wilfred ran to see him off on the train from St Mary’s. Standing on the bank above the station, he waved energetically, feeling strongly that if his brother turned to wave back, he would return safely from the war. Charley never looked back. He died of wounds on 17th June, only a month after landing in France, and a day after he had written a field postcard saying he was well.

St Mary’s Halt, Chalford, from which Charley left, never to return

Anxiety – fulfilled and unfulfilled

The Stroud News was in pensive mood. Musing on the effects of ‘this tremendous upheaval’ even in ‘remote Stroud and district’, it said: ‘the strain and stress and grief…is to be seen on the faces of the whole population’. Even Blighty provoked uncertainty -the beautiful weather brought worries about drought!

However, the parents of Bernie Gardiner, late of Chalford but now living in Wallsquarry, were hugely relieved:

After nearly two months of great anxiety…[they] have received a post card and letter from him addressed from Lemberg, Germany, conveying the welcome news that he is a Prisoner of War in Germany and unwounded…Pte Gardiner expresses the hope in his letter…that he may be able to come back with his old chum [Claude Mills].

Tea rationing was in the news again – the Ministry of Food’s edict that registration now had to be made by  10th June (rather than mid-July as previously notified) ‘had come like a bombshell upon the co-operative and private trade alike’.

The Military Service Bill passed in April seems to have been taking effect, certainly among older men. Tribunals were now considering cases of men in their 40s. There was a certain amount of public ill-feeling about younger men who might be avoiding the draft by working in protected occupations (e.g. in brickyards or aerodromes). Sergeant HWC White, a stalwart and valued member of the local VTC, had been called up. In June, there was a farewell party held for him, at which he was presented with a luminous wrist watch, tributes were paid to his ‘genial disposition’, and promises were made to ensure that volunteers would ‘see that their friend’s garden was well-kept during his absence on service’. Another member, WG Apperley, who was headmaster of Eastcombe National School, had also received his papers. Such was the manpower shortage at home, his departure, when combined with the call-up of the head of the undenominational school in the village meant the (temporary) amalgamation of the two schools (‘in the premises of the undenominational school conducted as a council school’). William Rothenstein was also passed Grade 1 for National Service in June.

The ‘Aquaticus’ column in the Journal on 21st June mentioned that Stanley Wood, of Chalford Hill, who had been wounded at Loos and was now serving with the Labour Battalion in Ireland, was home on leave:

He is decidedly in favour owing to his youth and good looks – ahem! – with the fair sex, as he often has to  walk home to Chalford through missing the last [rail]car owing to his pleasant presence being so much in demand…

The Chalford Woodworkers’ Company, based at Bliss Mills, which had been undertaking war work of an undefined nature, was reported in both local papers as having ‘acquired the premises formerly used by Clark Bros, millers’ – this was presumably Belvedere Mill (which now houses Heber). The Journal commented that ‘the interior is now being dismantled, and we understand the place is to be equipped with a special process for the manufacture of air-craft parts. Every endeavour will be made to equip the premises as quickly as possible’. With what we now know to have been less than six months before the end of the war – and no further information on this venture – it is uncertain how this initiative played out.

And there were still more death. Captain Robert Vaughan Kestell-Cornish, aged only 22, the grandson of Revd Thomas Keble, who had been born in Bisley, educated at Sherborne School, and had been due to go up to Oxford in October 1914, died of wounds in hospital in France on June 17th. Instead of beginning his university career, he had joined the Dorset Regiment, and been awarded the MC in 1915, in recognition of his bravery at Hill 60:

When most of the officers and men had been asphyxiated and he himself was suffering from the effects of gas, he rallied the men who remained and held the hill till reinforcements arrived…

He was obviously a tremendously brave young man. By the time he was slightly wounded on the first day of the Somme, he had been mentioned in Despatches twice; he also received a bar to his MC in November 1916. He was gazetted Adjutant in November 1916, joined the Staff in September 1917, but was badly wounded in the thigh at Houthulst Forest on March 8th 1918, and his leg was amputated. Initially, he seemed to be recovering, but his condition worsened and he died. He is buried in Boulogne Eastern Cemetery, beneath a stone which carries the inscription:“Because of you/We will be glad and gay/Remembering you/We will be brave and strong” (lines from a poem by Maurice Baring in memory of Julian Grenfell).

His headmaster paid a moving tribute:

Many here will understand why at this moment the picture which fills my eye is that of Robert Kestell-Cornish, who died of wounds only last Monday after a struggle of many weeks…As a boy here the very image of light-hearted boyishness, and boyish at heart to the end, yet within a few weeks of leaving School playing the part of a man, a leader of men, a hero, in the very first onset and bewilderment of the newly invented devilry of a gas attack; and therefore undertaking duties of leadership, decisions on which hung the issues of life and death for many others; and all at an age when in other times no more would have been expected of him than an intelligent pursuit of his studies, together with the innocent but irresponsible gaiety of an undergraduate. (I am grateful to the Sherborne School online Roll of Honour for this vivid eulogy.)

 

 

 

 

Remembering the Remembered: Christ Church School Memorial

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christ Church Chalford, school memorial to all who served

With the approach of the Centenary of the Armistice, my thoughts turned to how this should be marked in Chalford. The general feeling was that we’d mounted enough large exhibitions, and that those people who took an interest locally had probably already seen our displays. There was also the not inconsiderable fact that none of us had very much spare time at present! We were already contributing to the comprehensive Stroud Valleys in the Great War exhibition, held in the Museum in the Park, Remembrance Week…

So – I fixed on a long-delayed project, one I had previously dismissed as being probably too difficult: identifying the men on the village school war memorial, which lists all the old boys of the school who served, however briefly, in the forces. The memorial was made by post-war pupils in their woodwork lessons at Brimscombe Polytechnic. Designed by Mr Randall, Head of the Poly (who had himself lost two nephews, Levison and Cuthbert, in the war), it is composed of three oak panels, which have darkened over time, making reading the names very difficult, even close-up. The names were painted on by another former pupil of the school, Miss Clemance.

Originally, it was expected to cost £10, but inflation after the war meant that in the end £17 was needed (this being raised by donations solicited in the parish magazine), and plans for a statuette of St George and the dragon in the central panel were ditched, Omar Cottle’s maquette for the village memorial calvary being donated instead.

The first challenge was to arrive at a comprehensive list of names. The memorial hung on a wall in the junior classroom in Christ Church school for many years, but then its place was needed for a new window. Amazingly, the memorial – unlike many small memorials at the time – was not chopped up or burnt, but rescued – apparently by the redoubtable Mabel Smith, landlady of the Carpenters’ Arms, who is reputed to have brought it down the hill to the church in a wheelbarrow. It now hangs, rather too high up and largely unremarked, on the North wall of the church, opposite the door as you enter.

My enthusiasm for wobbling on the top of a stepladder not being noticeable, I was fortunate that my son Thaddeus was prepared to take photos of the columns! 109 names, 18 of them marked with the little gold cross which signified that they had been killed. This represents a 16.5% casualty rate, as compared with a generally accepted national level of 11.5%.

Luckily, Roger and Heather were quite prepared to undertake some more research! It was like old times (when we began our Great War researches in 2013-14), finding one’s inbox full of fascinating biographical details – Roger and Heather being prodigious and tireless hunters in the on-line archives! Heather (as happens!) actually found she was slightly related to one of the men (Albert Smith, a farrier with an ASC Horse Transport Company).

We had anticipated it being more difficult to trace those who lived than those who died – the dead being pinned at a moment in time, recorded by the Commonwealth War Grave Commission. However, a combination of census and other state records together with the 1939 Register (now available on-line), meant that we did actually track down a large proportion of the ex-pupils.

The shortest service seems to be that of James Henry Jones, son of the signalman at St Mary’s Crossing. He volunteered early in hostilities, on 11th August 1914, aged 19 years and 11 months, and his attestation papers describe him as 5’7″ tall, weighing 125lbs, with a clear complexion and brown hair and eyes. What wasn’t so impressive was his teeth – the upper set were false and the lower molars decayed. However, he was discharged after 17 days because ‘pulse rate after two days rest in hospital is 92. After slight exertion much faster and irregular – also pain in cardiac region’. It is rather sweet that his willingness to serve should be recognised on his old school’s memorial, along with all those who paid the ultimate price.

We were rather horrified to realise that among the dead was one whom we hadn’t acknowledged or traced before. Frank King had somehow become confused with Frederick King (d.1st December 1917). There is only one F King on the village memorial, instead of two as there obviously should be, and  we had identified him as the Eastcombe man… Born in 1881 or 1882, Frank grew up in Brownshill, his father Matthias a stick maker. In 1911, Frank was a ‘rag chopper’ in a flock mill, living in Walkley Wood, Nailsworth. He was killed on 9th February 1917, fighting with the 12th Glosters, aged 35.

 

Memorial decorated with poppies – each dedicated to one of the named men – made by children and staff at the school, November 2018