Category: Family history

Frank’s little secret

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From L Cpl Crawshaw, 1st Dorset Regiment, Victoria Barracks, Belfast – Christmas 1913

To: Miss M Crawshaw, 389, St John St, Clerkenwell, E.C. London. Envelope date stamped Dec 22 (19)13

Follows is Geoff’s description of a Christmas card. The comments are also his.

Xmas card with small coloured picture of three long-horned cattle in stream with heather clad mountain in background left and trees shading dimly seen cottage to right. Underneath is an ivy (?) wreath round a white shield on which is a heraldic letter – might be an elaborate C. Inside the main message is:

May Health, Happiness and Prosperity attend you this Christmastide and in the coming Year is the sincere wish of L Cpl F Crawshaw.

Above it in smaller type are four lines of poetry:

“Let’s sing a song of Auld Lang Syne.

Should Auld friends be forgot?

For friendship cannot change with time

Though time may change our lot.

None of this sounds suitable for the Dorsets – although the scene may be Irish.

The card is accompanied by a short letter.

Just a card hoping you are in the pink. I have not heard from Dolly for sometime. Received letter quite safe and sound. I see you want me to meet you at Stewarts on Wed at 6 o’clock. Now Till I wont promise for what with being up at 6.30 in the morning and then catching the boat at 930 pm on Tuesday night and travelling until 12 on Wednesday, I expect I shall feel a bit tired, but look here me old peach, if I am not there I hope you come on to Brixton, but I expect I shall be there on the word fire so put on your best and keep your Glad Eye open for Bid so tat tas and roll on Tuesday night. Hoping to see you soon.

Bid

There is a long gap between this letter and the last one. As there is in the timing of this article. It would appear, due to the regular mail before and after this date, that many letters have disappeared, making the story ever more fragmented and frustrating to research. There are so many ifs and whats in my notes. Hence my pause of more than two weeks. But people’s lives are complex, organic things, including mine, and I have to keep reminding myself that I can only work with the material and spare time that I have to hand.

In the letter attached to this card, Frank has lost none of his South London bravado. He uses the phrase “keep your glad eye open” somewhat erroneously with his sister as it means to act flirtatiously. It’s easy to picture him full of swagger as they meet for the first time, we can only surmise, in probably over a year.

Mabel has apparently moved to Clerkenwell. She appears to be working in a place called Stewart’s. This is probably a shop and I found a reference to a Mrs Stewart living in a shop and residence just up the road at 407 St John Street. This could well be our “Stewart’s”, which gets several references in later letters. These buildings are now long gone and The National Cancer Research Institute stands in its place.


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Barracks? Oh Bummer!

Frank, along with the rest of his regiment, left Blackdown on the 9th January 1913 and arrived in Belfast 2 days later, on the 11th January. Victoria Barracks was the new home of the 1st Bn Dorsets. It stood in the area now known as New Lodge, a Catholic area to the immediate north of the city centre, up until the 1950s. All that remains today are a few houses and bits of wall.

The Dorsets were there from 1913 up until the outbreak of the war. After that they went to Londonderry in 1919 and then to Malta in 1924.

I wish I’d never clapped eyes on her

It’s hard to know what Frank has been up to as he is very scant on detail. He mentions Dolly, presumably she is a girlfriend. We’ll find out more of his relationship with her in the next letter.

I have found quite a few of Frank’s records from the National Archives in Kew. One of the most surprising records is his medical history. I won’t publish it here out of respect, but the following story will outline the malaise he was being treated for in Curragh Camp Hospital between 5th September and the 22nd September 1913.

Curragh Camp in County Kildare, about 30 miles south west of Dublin, was a large divisional army base for the British Army up until 1922. It now serves as a training centre for the Irish Army. Whenever you gather together a large group of soldiers there are bound to be problems. Excessive drinking and prostitution were rife in the British army at that time. Prostitution was especially reviled by the authorities as it spread disease throughout battle-ready troops.

Curragh Camp had a particularly repellant history of prostitution. Due to its relative remoteness, groups of women took up camp in the furze around the camp. They were a mixture of prostitutes, abandoned girlfriends and wives of the soldiers within the camp itself. They became known as the Wrens of Curragh and their ramshackle dwellings, sometimes just a hollowed-out shrub, were referred to as “nests”. James Greenwood, a journalist for the Pal Mall Gazette, wrote a series of articles on their plight. His visit incurred the wrath of a particularly violent wren called Kate.

“Her hair was streaming down her back; she had scarcely a rag of clothing on; and the fearful figure made at me with a large jug, intended to be smashed upon my skull. I declare her dreadful figure appalled me. I was so wonder-stricken, that I believe she might have knocked me on the head without resistance; but, quick as lightning, one of the women got before me, spreading her petticoat. ‘Get out of it!’ she shouted in terror ; ‘run!’ And so I did. Covered by this friendly and grateful wren, I passed out of the nest, and made my way homeward in the darkness.”

The problem with soldiers and venereal disease was so rife that the authorities were enabled by law to stop and arrest any women suspected of being a prostitute. Looking at the census for 1911 there are long lists of soldiers in the Curragh Camp Military hospital suffering from all manner of sexually transmitted diseases; the majority of the cases being diagnosed as gonorrhoea.

During the First World War 416,891 men of the British army were treated for venereal diseases. The figures are high, perhaps due to the fact that failure to declare infection would invariably lead to two years’ hard labour. Indeed venereal disease was described, in Medical Services: General History vol. 1, as causing “the greatest amount of constant inefficiency in the home commands…”. It certainly surprised me to find out that official brothels existed. One in Rouen was reportedly visited by 171,000 men in its first year.

Frank was a young soldier on an adventure of a lifetime, far away from home, and his youthful exuberance and carefree attitude seem to be little diminished by the episode.

Next week

We learn about Frank’s life in Belfast and he has a new girlfriend. I’ll be looking at the wider world for the first time, as European nations start to flex their muscles.

Biddy sends a letter home

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From Lce Cpl Crawshaw, E Coy, 1st Bn Dorsets, Blackdown

13-8-12

Dear Mable

I received your welcome letter, and am glad to hear that you enjoyed yourself + also May. Till I am sorry that I am unable to get away for the fortnight leave but I am going to get a weekend from the 4th of September so will hope to spend a few hours with you then. I notice that you never told me Doris was home on a holiday but I guessed it, for her little letter which she wrote to me tell her she likes her plumes too much. How long is Doris home for, for I should like to see her, did you see your photo in those PC I sent home shourly you can recognise your big hat + what about sending me one of your and also Mays especially where you was taken in the water (not much) Remember me to Mother and tell mar I hope to see her soon + also Pups (?). Is Muffit still at that same place where you gave me the address off.

Now Till I hope you will send me photo of May and yourself and write back soon don’t forget dear. The weather is very cold + also raining. How many more young fellows will you have before you get the right one, I think the best youngman that you ever had was (B Spenc—r see any green) No that’s not my wedding I was going to, I have got too much sence to get spliced, I am waiting for you so that I can come round + have a cheap tea. Remember me to Horace and also your bloke. Hoping you all at home are in the best of health + still smiling. Don’t forget to let me know if Muff is still at the same place. That’s all the news at present hoping to hear from you soon love, and not much of the Joe peachie.

I remain

Your loving raspberry

Frank

For Joe xxxxxxx

Don’t forget the photos and write back soon

Introducing the Crawshaws

Frank’s parents, Frank Crawshaw and Ada Webster were married in 1890 in Camberwell Parish church, St Giles. Both were living in Dulwich Village at that time, according to the marriage certificate.

Ada was born in Southwark in 1870. Her parents were Matthew Webster, a machine pattern cutter from York, and Phoebe Oakley. Southwark was an slum housing area blighted with high levels of poverty and crime

Frank Crawshaw senior was originally from Norfolk.  The 1891 census sees him working as a pawnbroker’s assistant, living at 252 Wandsworth Road. I couldn’t find any mention of Ada at this time in the records I have access to.

Brixton life

Three years later, however, they are living together at 21 Combermere Road (street view below) in Brixton. It’s now a rather lonely little house with a reinforced front door. Frank was born in 1893 and a year later Mabel came along.

In the 1901 census we find Frank and Mable living at 48 Bellefields Road (street view below) in Brixton with their father Frank, mother Ada and a lodger called Henry Sheppard.

Frank senior was now a brewer’s clerk, possibly at the Youngs Brewery in Wandsworth or the Red Lion Brewery in Lambeth, now the site of the Royal Festival Hall. Interestingly the lion which once stood on top of the brewery’s entrance archway can now be found standing on a plinth on the south side of Westminster bridge. The brewery itself was destroyed by bombs in the Second World War.

Frank and Ada Crawshaw were both certainly from humble backgrounds, but the Brixton properties they lived in seem comfortable enough. They were probably far better off in Brixton than the cramped housing of Southwark and Bermondsey.

Brixton was born out of the development of south London in the second half of the 19th Century. Vauxhall Bridge opened in 1816, opening up the farms and market gardens of South London to developers. The Chatham Main Line brought the railway through Brixton in 1862. Large houses and middle class artisan developments sprang up around a busy market and commercial centre. As leases got shorter the middle classes moved out and, by the early 1900s, larger properties were being split into flats allowing working class families to live within easy commuting distance of the Capital, away from the squalor of the inner city slums.

The letter and the language

Frank’s first letter mentions their sister Doris. She was born in 1902 and in 1912 seems to be living away at school. Is the eight year gap between children significant? We’ll find out more about the state of the Crawshaw’s marriage in later letters.

Frank shows off his sense of humour in this first letter. He mentions a previous suitor of Mable, Ben Spen—r (I am guessing Ben Spencer but don’t know why he censors himself) and follows it up with a comment “see any green”. “See any green (in my eye)” was a popular english phase and probably meant that he is not as naive as she thinks. He enjoys pulling his sister’s leg about her love life.

Frank ends the letter with the phrase “not so much of the Joe Peachie”. I’ve found one mention of Joe-Peachey in the American magazine Boy’s Life in February 1921. This seems to echo the meaning we know today as everything is fine. So to use it in almost a negative way is perplexing. Does anybody know the origins of this phrase?

I love the phrase “your loving raspberry” he uses to sign off the letter with. I think I’m going to use it in emails to clients.

He talks about photographs long since lost. Who was May? I have yet to find out, but his “not much” aside, when mentioning a photo of her and his sister (possibly swimming?) in water, suggests that she was a girlfriend, rather than a relative.

Horace and Joe are also mentioned in the letter but I cannot match their names to anyone in my rather spindly family tree.

My great uncle Geoff remembers in his notes that he had an auntie Muff as a child. Muff is also mentioned as Muffit. I am guessing that they are one and the same person. I wonder if she is a sister of Ada Webster?

Perhaps I’ll find out in the next week from other members of my far flung family. Until then, I remain your loving raspberry. JE x

Next week

We’ll meet more members of the family and have a look at some of the consumer products of the time.

An Introduction to Frank

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Alexander Frank Crawshaw in training at Blackdown Camp in 1912
Alexander Frank Crawshaw in training at Blackdown Camp in 1912

My great great uncle, Alexander Frank Crawshaw, was born in Brixton in 1893 and died 21 years later on 11th February 1915 amid the mud and carnage of The Western Front. Using transcripts from his letters, photographs and other sources, I hope to uncover more about Frank, or “Biddy” as he was known to his family, and explore the world he lived in.

A collection of 32 letters was transcribed by my great uncle, Geoff Debnam in 1998. I have a copy of that transcription, while the originals remain in his ownership in Wellington, New Zealand. I am entirely to blame for any poor typing or factual errors. Spelling and punctuation remains as it is in the transcripts. I have referenced in Geoff’s notes where I think it helps.

His son, Carl, kindly scanned in the incredible photos of Frank and his comrades. I will tell the story of how the letters came to be found at a later date, but I think that it is fair to say that these were kept private by Mable, my Great Grandmother on my mother’s side. She, like countless other sisters, mothers, girlfriends and wives around Britain, was deeply affected by Frank’s death and never really came to terms with it. Most of the surviving letters were sent to her, but there are a couple to his Aunt Webster as well.

I will certainly make lots of factual errors along the way but hope that people reading this blog (if I am lucky enough) will be able to correct and educate me with their own knowledge of the period. I want to encourage your comments and welcome any correspondence. I hope you enjoy what you find, and I hope this inspires you to delve into your family’s past. You never know what secrets you might find…

Frank joins the Army

The first letter finds Frank living at Blackdown in September 1912. Blackdown camp was a large army camp near Aldershot in Hampshire. It is now part of the infamous Deepcut barracks. The Dorsetshire Regiment was based there from 1911 through to 1913, until it was posted to Victoria Barracks in Belfast.

The Dorsetshire Regiment (or the Dorsets as it was more commonly known) was formed in 1881 by the amalgamation of the 39th (Dorsetshire) Regiment of Foot and the 54th (West Norfolk) Regiment of Foot.

Most regiments in the British Army, at the beginning of the war in 1914, had 2 battalions; each of which generally contained 1,007 men (although once a regiment was engaged in the field it rarely achieved its full complement). There were usually four companies to a battalion. Each company of 227 men was further split into four platoons and then into sections of 12 men and a Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO). Other parts of a 1914 battalion included the Battalion HQ, machine gun section and transport. Frank belonged to E company (Coy) in the 1st Battalion (Bn) of the Dorsetshire Regiment.

By the time we meet Frank, in a letter to his sister Mabel in September 1912, he had been in the Army for 18 months. He joined the Dorsets after passing a medical in Dorchester on the 11th February 1911 and was enlisted a few days later on the 16th of February.

Frank had been promoted to Lance Corporal on 28th January 1912. A Lance Corporal was the first step up the ladder from the rank of Private. It was an unofficial position; the holder could be demoted at any time by their commanding officer. Essentially they made sure that their small group, or tent, completed tasks assigned to them; thinks like polishing boots and tidying up. They were also usually second-in-charge of a rifle or machine gun group. A Lance Corporal was distinguished by a single chevron stripe worn on the arm. Frank would have been addressed as “Corporal”.

Next week

I am going to look at his first letter to Mable and look at Frank’s background; where he came from, and the various members of his family.

Frank Crawshaw. Soldier, Londoner

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Letters from Frank Crawshaw to Mabel Crawshaw 1912-1915

Mabel Crawshaw (1894-1964) was my great grandmother.

Alexander Frank Crawshaw, known to everyone as plain old Frank, was born in Brixton in 1893. He died in Wulverghem in Belgium on February 11th 1915. He was just 21 years old.

I am going to post a series of transcripts, made by my great uncle, Geoffrey Debnam, of correspondence between Frank and Mabel, from 1912 up to his death in 1915.

 23508539-Frank1

Here is Frank with, I can only guess, Mabel.