Chapter One

FREDERICK FESTON

Private Frederick Feston, 2nd Battalion, the Queens Royal West Surrey Regiment died on Friday 26th October 1917, during what was later to become known as the Third battle of Ypres or Battle of Passchendaele

His body was never found so he is listed amongst those “with no known grave” and is commemorated amongst thousands of others at the military cemetery at Tyne Cot, Belgium.

We do not know how long he was in the army before being killed, but was most likely amongst the thousands of married men conscripted in June and July 1916. The so-called “Great War” had been going on since August 1914 and by 1915, the flow of volunteers had slowed considerably and conscription was introduced in 1916.

It was not surprising that working class married men did not “flock to the colours”.

The previous ten years had been one of great hardship for the working people generally. Wages had not kept pace with the rising cost of living, many employers had even cut wages and the unsuccessful miners' and railway workers' strikes had left bitter memories.

The normal period of Army training at that time was usually about six months. These were spent in training camps mainly in the South of England, with, if they were lucky, two short periods of leave, before being sent to France. For the most part the men were reasonably fit on joining due to the hard manual labour most were accustomed to, despite a generally poor diet. Nevertheless the military routine of marching and instant obedience to commands would have been difficult for many to assimilate.

Frederick would have been with the 2nd Battalion of “the Queens” in France just after Christmas 1916, or early in 1917. The journey from England to France would have been on one of the vessels previously used for ferry traffic in the pre-war years.. It was no doubt his first cross channel journey, but we wonder if he had the opportunity to compare it with a trip on a paddle steamer from London to Margate.

At that time the war was bogged down in the winter mud and the Battalion had been in the Beaumont Hamel area since the middle of December.

The Official History of the Regiment quotes an unnamed officer describing Beaumont Hamel as:

“Surely without exception the most unpleasant bit of line on the Western Front. Constantly fought over and ploughed and reploughed by shells. Some A peculiar quality of the soil had produced a stretch of mud that was literally impassable, and everywhere sit was knee deep. In this sector at various times during the winter of 1916-17 several men were drowned in this morass in spite of all efforts of their comrades to extricate them. In addition the enemy sprinkled it with shells, while snipers operating from higher and drier ground were active and deadly. Both for danger and discomfort, it was hard to beat. “

The reason for these appalling conditions is not difficult to establish. On 1st July 1916 a major attack took place to wrest this area from the occupying German forces after days of artillery bombardment.. It did not go well and on this day 20,000 troops were killed and 37,000 others wounded.

Many of these troops were new volunteers and conscripts, who had been sent to France ill equipped and poorly trained.

Beaumont Hamel was not taken from the Germans until November.

On the 20th February 1917, The Queens marched to Albert passing by the villages and hamlets of Toutencourt, Vadencourt, Warloy and Hennencourt. These had all been badly damaged during previous engagements and none like Beaumont Hamel itself, now appear on modern day road maps of France.

Soldiers on the move carried everything with them. Their complete kit consisted of a rifle, usually a 303 Lee Enfield, two gas helmets and goggles, 220 rounds of ammunition, 2 mills grenades, 2 empty sandbags, a pair of wire cutters, entrenching tool, steel helmet, field dressing, belt for bayonet, water bottle and mess tins, groundsheet, haversack and spare socks.

In addition to their personal kit, they also had to carry other equipment, machine guns, mortars, shovels, etc.

They remained at Albert until March 13th carrying out working party duties for the 2nd Division, of which they were then part. Although out of the firing line, working party meant just that, hard work af all kinds, with training, marching, drill , kit inspections and the like,, from early in the morning to evening. Only occasionally was there the opportunity to spend a little of their miserly pay at the local cafe or bistro.

Albert prior to the war had been a pleasant country town. Its chief church, the Notre Dame de Brebieres was a well-known place of pilgrimage. From the summit of the steeple of this church, hung precariously, the statue of the Virgin, which had been dislodged by a shell. This hanging statue became a landmark to the troops in this area, and somehow a legend became attached to it to the effect that when it fell the war would end. To a certain extent this came true as the statue held there until late in 1918.

The winter of 1916/17 was particularly hard. As a Carman by occupation Frederick would have been no stranger to being out in the wet and cold for many hours a day. However it was a far different cold to that experienced in the fog and murk of London. Here they were in the French countryside, or what remained of it. The small towns and villages were often mere shells or totally obliterated from the constant bombardments. The surrounding fields a sea of mud, so liquid and deep that men, vehicles and horses could disappear in a few moments.

The other big difference to back home, was the noise. London itself of course was noisy, the traffic din in the early twentieth century was not the same as now, but was loud nevertheless.

The human noise of people, vendors cries and so on was coupled with the sounds of jingling harness, snorting beasts, and the clatter of iron shod hooves followed by equally iron shod wheels on cobbled stone roadways. Here at Albert, although a little back from the main front, there was the almost constant sound of artillery and rifle fire. Shells whined overhead followed by the crump of a “dud” or the explosion of a live shell. The whistle of shrapnel mingled with the cries of those unfortunates caught by one of these flying pieces of metal. Those suffering a direct hit, were perhaps luckier, in dying instantly.

On 13th March 1917, they were off again, this time to Puiseiux, taking over the front line just south of the village. The enemy artillery appeared to be paying a good deal of attention to the village with heavy shells by day and tear gas in the evening.

At one am on 14th March, the battalion took part in an engagement, together with the 22nd Battalion of the Manchester Regiment. These two battalions were given the tasks previously intended to have been conducted by two brigades, or more than four times their number. It was very dark and raining hard and the ground was very sticky. When the advancing troops arrived at the enemy lines, they found the ground full of shell holes, into which many of them fell, causing their rifles to become useless, being full of mud. The enemy machine guns were firing constantly and eventually the Queens withdrew and managed to safely return to their previous position.

Between then and the 1st April, they moved to the Courcelle area, where they again saw action. The battalion was in position by 1 am, having been shelled on the march up, but zero hour was not until 5.15, a long cold wait in the dark. Even then there was a delay. The bombardment by British artillery, which always preceded an attack, was falling short of the enemy lines and thereby not causing the necessary damage to the enemy’s barbed wire defences and trenches. Eventually the Queens moved up and were met by heavy machine gun fire. At the end of the day it was found that there had been heavy casualties with four officers and 25 other ranks killed and 42 wounded.

The Queens were relieved the same day and remained in billets near Courcelles until the beginning of May. On the 6th they were advised that for a forthcoming battle they and the 22nd Manchester’s were to be attached to the 20th Infantry Brigade. Accordingly they moved to tents and shelters near the Ervilliers road.

The objective of the coming battle was the capture of Bullecourt., a strongpoint in a string of defences across northern France which the Germans called the Siegfried line but which were known to the allies as the Hindenburg Line. On the 9th May the Queens went back for one night rest to the neighbourhood of Mory. The next day they returned to east of Ecoust, and on the 11th were in position with the 15th Australian Brigade on their right.

At zero hour, 3.40 am on the May 12th, the Queens moved forward following a creeping barrage of artillery fire, which moved forward at the rate of 100 yards in six minutes, and gained their objective by 4.15 am. Their success was costly, with 2 officers and 32 other ranks dead, 4 officers and 121 other ranks wounded and 10 men missing.

The Australians also had considerable casualties, and in later years many veterans remembered Bullancourt with some bitterness. They blamed the bungling of the high command for the great loss of men.

Frederick and the battalion remained in this area throughout June and July.

American Troops arrived in France in the middle of June but were not to see action for some time.

Frederick's second daughter Rose Amelia was born on the Saturday 7th July in Camberwell, and how soon he got news of this event, we do not know. It is to be hoped that as there was little fighting at this time here, he was in a position to celebrate when the news arrived. It would appear that Ada, his wife, had difficulty in coming to terms with his being in the army. She recorded his occupation as “Carman” when registering the birth. By this time, if not earlier, Frederick also would have preferred being back in London at his old job.

Third Ypres

Nine days later, on the 16th July, there began the bombardment by British artillery that was the beginning of what was later to be known as the third battle of Ypres.

Thousands of guns poured shells into the enemy lines, and this barrage, which had originally been intended to last a week, continued until the end of the month.

So intense was this barrage, that the sound of it, as distant drums were heard 120 miles away in London. The new mother and her children would no doubt have heard it with trepidation.

To the sound of the guns was added the daily sight of ambulances carrying wounded soldiers from Waterloo station to a Camberwell hospital, a constant reminder to Ada of the peril that her husband was in.

It is doubtful, however, if she would need much reminding of the war. The allowance she would have received out of her husband's army pay of 10/6-(55 p) per week would have made life a constant struggle, coupled with the food shortages and regular air raids. British infantrymen were the amongst the poorest paid of any servicemen in France- their 1/6d (7 1/2p) per day compared with the 6/- (30p) of the Australians and the 5/- (25p) of the New Zealanders.

The bungles on the battlefields were, to a certain extent, matched by inefficiencies at home. Despite a good harvest of most crops in 1917, there were serious food shortages in most major cities as there was insufficient men and transport allocated to getting the crops to market.

On 29th August, the 2nd Battalion marched to Mondicourt and entrained for Flanders to take part in the third battle at Ypres.

Passing by Frevent, St. Pol, Hazebrook and Lillers, they arrived at Hopoutre near Poperinghe at 9.30 PM and reached camp at Ottawa Camp at Ouderdom at midnight..

This journey of less than one hundred kilometres was no joy ride in a rattling train.

Only some of the men were in carriages, the rest were on flat or goods wagons, exposed to the pouring rain. The trains had to stop frequently due to track damage and whilst stopped they were often exposed to artillery fire.

Due to the sudden move to Flanders, the troops had fully expected to go into battle right away. This was not to be so, on September 3rd they moved to Zuytpeene near Cassell for training, and here they remained with several minor moves until the end of September.

At the beginning of October 1917 the battalion was in the neighbourhood of Ouderdom. Late on the night of October 3rd they moved to a position of assembly between Chateau Wood and Tank Gun Post. The battalion was not used that day. At noon on the 4th it was ordered to a position in reserve and to dig in near the Butte-an artificial mound some 80 feet in height in the vicinity of Polygon Wood. Despite being exposed to very heavy shelling they were unable to dig proper trenches to protect themselves. It was impossible to dig to a greater depth than two feet due to the presence of water near the surface.

There they remained until the evening of the 6th October under heavy rain and continuous shellfire, when they were relieved and withdrawn to Bellewaaarde Lake.

During this short period two officers and 38 other ranks were killed and over 120 wounded and seven missing.

The Queens moved around the reserve area mainly near Mont des Cats in the Thieushock area, practicing the attack over ground similar to that which the Brigade was expected to traverse in the forthcoming operations. The Regiment was now part of the 91st Brigade, and on October 24th bussed up to the vicinity of Lock Eight. Then after a brief halt they relieved companies of the Sherwood Foresters in the Bodmin Copse area. The track, Morland Avenue to Canada Street, during this assembly march was shelled but no casualties were incurred, although several shells fell between platoons.

The weather improved at daybreak on the 25th, and a strong wind that then got up which did much to improve the state of the ground. In front of a ridge leading to the Bassevelle Beek the ground was sandy and comparatively dry.

The day passed without incident and it is said that on the whole the enemy's attitude quiet. About dusk a Captain Atkinson was wounded while visiting his posts, having already been shot through the arm by a sniper, and so had to go back down the line.

The weather became overcast and cloudy early on the 26th and at zero hour (5.40 am) rain was falling. All started according to plan and by 6.10 am the attack appeared to be progressing favourably. Shortly after this, however, the forward observation post was hit full by a shell and the garrison buried or temporarily stunned.

They soon regained contact however, and reported that there was a certain amount of disorganisation among the advancing troops. This was the result of the battalions on either flank converging on "Lewis House " a group of concrete bunkers, where the main resistance had been met.

This congestion made it impossible for the Stokes guns to fire when given the signal. The hostile machine guns in “Lewis House” were afforded targets of confused units instead of meeting an organised assault by small controlled bodies.

By this time, all the officers of the battalion, except for two, had become casualties. Despite the confusion, these two remaining officers pressed on and made several attempts to organise an outflank of the concrete structure of Lewis House. When these failed they established themselves with a composite party made up of the remains of several battalions, about 200 hundred yards from the house.

The loss of direction in all this resulted in gaps appearing in the general line to right and left of Lewis House. These were filled by organising men who had drifted there out of their alignment, and by bringing forward two companies of the 22nd Manchester Regiment to join up with the 21st Manchester Regiment on the right. Two new Vickers gun sections were also sent in to cover the front.

By dusk the original front lines had been re-established and touch with both flanks secured. During the night of 26th/27th October what remained of the 2nd Battalion the Queens and of the two attached companies was relieved and withdrawn to dug-outs at Lock Eight. Two posts, however which had been in advance of the old front line could not be found until daylight of the 27th, having been cut off from all communication in the mean time.

The official history of the Regiment records that it was no easy matter to accurately determine the casualties at the conclusion of this heavy and confused fighting, but made the following estimates.

“2 officers and 22 other ranks were killed or died of wounds, 9 officers and 189 non-commissioned offers and men were wounded, 14 men were wounded and missing, while 1 officer and 63 men were missing”

Private Frederick Feston was one of the missing, and later presumed killed, as his body was never found. The book Soldiers who died in the Great War, lists 93 men of the Royal West Surrey Regiment who died on the 26th October 1917.

The Times Newspaper’s reports of these few days emphasized the apparent victory of the taking of Passchendaele by Canadian and other troops and glossed over the immense losses in achieving this.

The Germans subsequently retook the whole area so that to say that Fred and his comrades died in vain is an over-simplification of massive proportions.

The war ended twelve months later, it is unlikely that the thousands of widows and orphans like Ada Feston and her children, joined in the celebrations.

Chapter Two

Nan.

One can only wonder how my grandmother coped when she heard the devastating news of her husband’s death. To be left with two little girls and no hope of a widow's pension right away, the army allowance having stopped at the announcement of grandfathers death. Life must have looked bleak.

She had parents' still alive and younger brothers and sisters, so maybe they rallied around her. I think they must have done as I was always under the impression that her youngest sister, was brought up by Nan, although this could not have been the case as Great aunt Win was still living at home with her parents when she married. It was probably that because great aunt Win was the same age as Nan’s eldest daughter Ada, she must have spent a lot of time with them.

Or could it have been that Nan had to go to work and therefore my mother who was only 3 months old when her father was killed in action and her sister age three, were looked after by their grandparents whilst she did so. This I can only surmise as we children never asked questions.

“Children should be seen and not heard “ was a favourite saying of my Nan’s. It made the asking of questions of my mother a little difficult too.

When I got older, and found that my mother’s maiden name was not Sadler, I realised that my grandmother must have remarried.

Nan had remarried in 1920 to Herbert Leopold Sadler, a gardener, which must have been a relief to her family. She was lucky, as there was a shortage of young men after the war.

Granddad Sadler accepted Nan’s two daughters and the grew up calling him Dad, and later, it was said that I was the apple of his eye, so he must have loved my mum and her sister as his own.

Nan, if she had worked before, would have now given up work. She only had one child to granddad Sadler, a son, Herbert Albert who was born in 1920.

Nan kept a good home for the family, rising early in the morning and doing her housework before calling the family to breakfast. Although granddad Sadler was a gardener, they did not appear to be too badly off, my mother appearing in school uniform in a photograph that we have. In other photos of the family they all appeared neat and tidy and in up to date fashions.

In the early 1930s they moved from Camberwell to a new LCC development at Downham. The house was a three bedroom terraced house, modern for its time. The front door opened into a hallway with the staircase leading upstairs, behind it. There was also a pantry and doors leading into the kitchen, living room and bathroom and possibly the first indoor toilet they had ever had, As in most working class families, the kitchen, no matter how small or inconvenient was the living area. The kitchen was very narrow and held a fire heated boiler or copper as it was called. This was used to boil the washing in, and also to heat the hot water for bath nights, the water being pumped through to the bathroom by means of a hand pump. Personal washing and washing of clothes was done in the kitchen sink. Also in the kitchen under the stairs was the coal cupboard.

The living room was treated as a parlour and Nan called it that. This room was filled with highly polished furniture. A large drop leaf dining table and upholstered chairs, a piano, a glass or china cabinet and a sideboard with a mirror on the back, and of course an aspidistra on a stand in the window. The fireplace was also a large affair with a hob and an oven in the top. This was never used for cooking and was kept shining with black lead.

Upstairs was a double bedroom, and a box room at the back and the main bedroom the width of the house at the front.

Nan played the piano. This would have been quite exceptional for a working class girl, the eldest of a large family to be taught how to play the piano. Her daughters were also taught to play

Granddad Sadler, as a gardener by trade, kept the good sized garden at the back very neat and tidy. Outside the back door he had created a private area by having a patio, closed in by lattice, on which a grapevine grew. He also kept chickens and rabbits and Nan used to boil the potato peelings mixed with bran and made a mash to feed the chickens.

The electric trams, the main transport in the area, did not run to the top end of Downham Way then, so Nan would have had to walk to the nearest shops, which could have been at Catford, three miles away. Walking long distances was not unusual then, I remember grandfather Sadler walking to Catford and back every day after he retired.

Nan still walked to the shops at the bottom of Downham way until she was nearly 70 years of age. She always wore a hat when she went out, which she never took off when she visited us. We asked her why and she replied that it was to keep her feet warm.

She was a short lady, inclined to being overweight, despite all the walking that she did.

Her house was always neat and tidy and when we visited with Mum and Dad we were allowed into the “parlour”, but were never allowed to touch the polished furniture. When we visited in our Sunday best on Sunday mornings, without Mum & Dad, we were only allowed in the kitchen or garden. This was a regular Sunday activity for me, as I was the eldest, to take my younger brothers and sister too. Nan also seemed to have an unlimited supply of handkerchiefs. When we visited, we were always asked if we had a hankie, and if we said no, we were taken into the parlour where a handkerchief box was produced from the sideboard drawer, from which we were always given one.

I also recall one Christmas, staying with my grandparents and sleeping between them in their big feather mattressed bed. I loved the smell of lavender, which permeated the bedroom.

Nan used to make ginger wine and on Christmas day, we children were allowed to have some, watered down of course.

My own family moved to 68 Downham Way, during the Second World War, and when Nan’s house was bombed we were evacuated and Nan went to live in our house. One of things that I remember about when Nan was bombed out, was that the previous Christmas I had been given a large doll, the size of a new born baby, which I broke soon after. Because these toys were scarce during wartime,

Nan took the dolls head home and had it sitting on her glass cabinet. It survived the bomb, as did the glass cabinet, which is here in Australia with me today. But when the workmen were sorting through the house they decided the dolls head was no good and threw it out into the garden, along with the other debris. Nan was very upset about this, as she had planned to obtain a new body for the doll, after the war.

Nan enjoyed good health and survived her second husband by ten years. She continued to walk the just over half a mile from her house down to visit my Mum, until one day she fell off a chair whilst standing on it to put up some curtains. After a few months, she went to live with my parents, but this started her decline. Nan wanted to help about the house, but both she and my mother were too much alike to be able to share a kitchen, so gradually Nan withdrew to her room and gave up.

She once spent two weeks in a nursing home, whilst Mum and Dad went on holiday, which she hated. She still had all her faculties, and being compelled to spend her time with senile elderly people, and being treated as she were senile herself was more than she could bear.

This was a fairly typical nursing home of its time, care standards were not very high, and shortage of staff meant that incontinence was not handled speedily. For neat and tidy Nan, in command of herself in mind and body , this was intolerable. My mother vowed that even if they were never to have another holiday, she would not put her mother through that again.

Nan eventually became ill and had to be admitted to hospital, where she died on her 80th birthday, on 17th December 1972.

Chapter Three

Before the War

Frederick Feston married Ada Rosetta Hall on Monday the 24th March 1913 at Christchurch Camberwell. The witnesses were Frederick’s sister Louise Mabel and her husband to be Charles Hurley.

Ada was the daughter of Alfred and Ada Hall, and was twenty-three years old at the time of their marriage

Frederick ‘s occupation at that time was shown as a Carman and both the bride and the groom were living at 6, Vaughan Place, Camberwell

Their first child Ada Lauretta. was born on Wednesday 9th December 1913, when the family were living at 3 Dorset Terrace, North Peckham. Frederick's occupation by then was railway labourer, but this could have meant that he was employed on one of the many carts used by the railway companies at that time.

Frederick was the son of William Henry and Lauretta Feston and had been born on Friday the 13th February 1891. Not a very auspicious beginning to his life that was to last a mere 26 years. Long enough to father two daughters, but no sons to continue his name.

Frederick, (or probably “Fred", as it is difficult to accept a Bermondsey boy being called Frederick by his friends) was the youngest of five children. He had a brother and three sisters, although one of his sisters had died before he was born.

Willow Walk, Bermondsey, where Frederick was born is on the edge of Bermondsey adjacent to the Old Kent Road. Many of the older houses in the area had been demolished in recent times and had been replaced by blocks of flats. For the most part these were a great improvement on what had gone before, but still had only very basic amenities, much of which, including water supply and toilets being shared by several families.

The Festons, however, still lived in one of the older two storey properties. In cramped conditions, they occupied two rooms in the two up and two down house, typical of the kind occupied by most of the people in the area.

William Henry was a leather dresser, by trade, and worked in one of the numerous tanneries, that Bermondsey was noted for. A dirty trade, involving hard work in difficult smelly conditions. The smell generated during the tanning of leather not only permeated the district, but also the skins of the workers, so that it never left them. It was difficult enough in those days to keep clean, with the majority of houses having no internal water supply. Water was carried into the house from a stand-pipe in the street, and even that supply was not particularly clean nor regular. Most of the time water was only available for a few hours a day.

The only means of bathing was in a tin tub, filled by carrying water from the stand-pipe, and heating it up in the wood fired copper in the back scullery. Little wonder then that all over washing or bathing was a once a week luxury for the majority, and even that involved using the same water for a number of bodies.

This part of south London though had other aromas to add to the tannery smells. The area was noted for its breweries and Peak Freans, now a household name, were making biscuits and dog food nearby. The Bricklayers Arms railway goods yard with its frequent traffic of steam trains also added its sulphuric pall over the area.

And then of course there were the horses. Hundreds of horses of all kinds, from the grand shires pulling the loaded brewers' drays, to the decrepit undernourished donkeys in the shafts of the costers cart. In between nags of every kind were used in the carting of goods of every description, in vehicles large and small.

Life was not easy in those days for unskilled workers. Pay was low and working conditions generally bad. Most men employed in cartage earned in the region of about a pound a week. With rents for miserable lodgings often taking a third of that, left little enough for an adequate diet for even the smallest family.

Education for Frederick would have been at the local board school. These had been established twenty years previously when compulsory attendance at school was introduced. The aim was more to do with controlling juvenile crime than with imparting knowledge, so these five storey grim, barrack like, buildings operated like reformatories, for children whose only crime had been to be born poor. Discipline was strict. The cane was used for the slightest infraction of the rules or failure to learn, let alone serious misdemeanours. This brutal regime was in place for girls as well as boys, and the three “Rs” was thus instilled, accompanied by large infusions of jingoistic patriotism and respect for the ruling classes.

In 1896 it is likely that they were told little of the holding of the first modern Olympiad in Greece. But the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria the following year was made much of in the school system. The commencement of the Boer War in Southern Africa in October 1899 was also an opportunity to reinforce the lessons of nationalism and empire.

School days lasted until the age of twelve, when a school-leaving certificate was issued to give protection from the truant officers employed by the School Board to seek out non-attenders. It must have been difficult then to tell the age of children whose growth had been stunted by years of poor nourishment and in many cases, near starvation.

There were few opportunities to learn a trade, and the majority of school leavers had to find what jobs they could. Girls for the most part, working in the various forms of garment making and boys becoming errand boys or carters assistants. Pay generally at the turn of the century was poor for adults and children frequently still worked long hours for a pittance- but glad to get it to assist their families to survive.

Frederick eventually became a Carman, that is someone in charge of a horse drawn vehicle used for the carriage of goods. There were many thousands of these carts in use in London, as the motor lorry was yet to make any substantial appearances in this role.

During the fifteen years or so of Frederick’s working life there came about numerous changes. Many of them would not have affected him in any way, and many he would not even have been aware of.

In 1901 the first electric trams appeared on the streets of London, the safety razor was invented, Queen Victoria died and the Commonwealth of Australia was created out of the former penal colonies.

In the next few years, Orville Wright flew the first self propelled airplane, double decker buses arrived, the London Fire Brigade created, and the first London telephone box installed.

In 1906 the San Francisco earthquake resulted in the death of 700 people, whilst that in Messina, Italy two years later killed 80,000. Only the former is remembered, thanks mainly due to Hollywood. This year also saw the marriage of Frederick’s sister Florence Elizabeth to Joseph Henry Clarke.

1908 saw the holding of the Olympic Games at Shepherds Bush, the opening of the Rotherhithe tunnel under the Thames, the foundation of the Boy Scout movement by Baden-Powell and the Ford Motor Company producing the first Model T automobile. In the following year the Old age pension was introduced.

The National Insurance Scheme was introduced in 1911 and Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen reached the South Pole ahead of Robert Scott.

In the meantime the population of Greater London had increased to over seven million.

The liner Titanic sank after colliding with an iceberg on her maiden voyage in 1912. In the same year British explorers under Scott reach the South Pole but all died during their return journey. Both of these events are remembered as much through the efforts of filmmakers as through the teaching of history.

And on 28 June 1914 Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo, precipitating World War One and the subsequent events that lead to the death of Frederick Feston.

Chapter Four

Ancestors of Frederick Feston

Great grandparents

Henry Feston, the earliest of this name we have been able to trace in this family, appears to have been born about 1799.

In 1830, he married Elizabeth Dawson in the famous church of St. Clement Danes, on the 2nd March. The marriage register shows that they were both living in the parish at that time. Neither the occupations of the pair, nor the names of their parents were given. Henry signed the register, but Elizabeth was only able to make her mark.

Henry and Elizabeth had two children that we have been able to identify, Mary Ann born in 1831 and William Henry, in 1834

Henry's occupation appears to have changed over the years. At the time of the baptisms in 1831 and 1834, Henry's occupation is shown as Greengrocer and the family was living in Fair Street. The Pigotts commercial Directory for 1846 shows a Henry Feston as a coal dealer at 5 Fair Street, St. John Horsleydown.

The death certificate of Elizabeth Feston, when she died of malignant ovarian disease on 16th November 1848, showed her as being the wife of Henry Feston a waiter and their address as 42, Holland Street, Southwark.

However the family were not at that address at the time of the 1851 census, and the only Festons we could find in Southwark in that year was a Henry Feston, an unmarried Coal Dealer, aged 55, living at 25a Fryar Street. St. George's. Southwark.

When William Henry married Jane Flint in 1859, he gave his fathers occupation as "Steward", whereas, Mary Ann, on marrying George Cranbrook in St. James, Westminster, in 1860, said her father was a Greengrocer, and did not indicate that he was already dead.

Henry had died in the St. Olaves Workhouse on 21st January 1858, aged 59 of pulmonary consumption, and his occupation again, is shown as "Waiter"

Paternal Grandparents,

William Henry Feston born in 1834 was the son of Henry Feston and Elizabeth Dawson. He was baptised in the church of St. John Horsleydown and was presumably born in that parish.

St. John Horsleydown was a south London parish in Southwark a short distance downstream from London Bridge.

William Henry became a cooper's labourer, a trade no doubt in great demand, there being several breweries in Bermondsey at that time.

At the age of 23 in 1859, he married Jane Flint in St. Paul's Church Southwark on Christmas Day.

They had one child, Also William Henry, who was born in Mellick Place, Bermondsey, where several members of the Flint Family were living.

Neither Jane, nor her husband, appeared to have good health, as she died in 1863 at the age of 22 of what was described as heart disease, and William Henry died two years later of Peritonitis.

Parents.

William Henry Feston the only child of William Henry Feston and the former Jane Flint was born on 18th June 1861 at 19 Mellick Street, Bermondsey.

His mother died when he was only two years old and he was left an orphan on the death of his father two years later.

He was then left in the care of his maternal grandparents William Henry and Elizabeth Flint. The Flint family had lived in Mellick street for a number of years but by 1861 they had moved to Providence Place, and by 1871 they were living in Stevens Terrace.

Elizabeth Flint appears to have died in 1875 and William died in the St. Olaves workhouse in March 1877. At just under sixteen years of age, William Henry was left to fend for himself, although there were still numerous Flint relatives in the Bermondsey area.

However, after the death of his grandparents, William Henry boarded out and in 1881 was living in lodgings at 44 Fendell Street, Bermondsey.

Shortly thereafter, he met and married Lauretta Pulling in the parish church of St. John Horsleydown, Southwark, the ceremony taking place on Tuesday 15th August 1882. The marriage witnesses were George Mummery and Eliza Cranbrook, we have been unable to establish the relationship, if any, between them.

Lauretta had been born in the small village of Tupsley in Herefordshire on Saturday 3rd September 1859,(and had been registered as Loretta) the daughter of George Pulling and Elizabeth Pritchard. When and why she made the journey from Herefordshire to London, we do not know, although it was not uncommon for those unable to get work in their home areas to make this journey.

William Henry and Lauretta set up home in the Bermondsey area and had five children, Florence Elizabeth in 1883, William Henry in 1885, Louisa Mabel in 1886, Eliza in 1889 and Frederick in 1891,

William spent most of his life in the leather industry working variously as a labourer, leather dresser and later a leather striker. It was a hard life, but he managed to provide well for his family. The daughter Eliza died at the age of two, but the rest of the children survived to adulthood,

Florence Elizabeth married Joseph Henry Clarke in Camberwell on 19th November 1906, and does not appear to have had any children.

Louisa Mabel married Charles Hurley at the Camberwell Register Office on 23rd June 1915.

The son William Henry does not appear to have married. At the time of his death in 1931, his mother stated that he was also known as Casey. The significance of this we are yet to establish.

William Henry, the father, died on 26 March 1927 at 48 Constance Road Dulwich, when the family was living at 48 Greenhundred Road, Peckham. He was then aged 65, and the cause of death is shown as gangrene of the legs and hemorrhage, whether this was due to an accident or some other cause, is not clear,

Lauretta, his widow, lived on until 14th October 1937 when she died of pulmonary congestion and other complications at home at 48 Greenhundred Road. She was then 78 years of age. It would appear that Louise her daughter was also living there at that time.