George Critchley trains the Aussies in London

George Critchley, on the right of the picture above, was the sixth child of Mary Ellen and James Critchley. He started work as a clerk at Pilkingtons glass works in St Helens before he enlisted in the army. My grandparents told me they saw quite a bit of George after he joined the Prince of Wales own County of London Civil Service Rifles. George attained the rank of sergeant and trained Australian troops at Hazeley Down camp, Winchester. On a postcard his brother (my grandfather) wrote to him, he asks if he got back safely and when George will visit them again.

   As far as I know, George spent nearly four years training Australian Troops after he enlisted. Mollie writes: "George was based in London with the Civil Service Rifles. He had a girlfriend there. Although he served with a London regiment, he seems to have have a connection with Australians as a rifle instructor despite some kind of eyesight defect. George was killed in action very near the end of the war on the 9th August 1918. He has no known grave."

     Below is a picture of George with his trainee Australians and below that two fellow officers from his regiment. He is by the right hand bottom corner of the banner below and in the picture below that, George is on the left of the other two sergeants.

    

 

William Critchley is crew on a ship which escapes the Dresden before he goes into action with the Lancashire Fusiliers

 William was the fifth child of Mary Ellen and James Critchley and their third son. He is in the picture with his dad on the Isle of Man and with his two older brothers and in the back yard of the Homestead in  Knowsley Road with all his surviving siblings. He joined the family business to drive the bakery van to do the deliveries.

    In 1913, the year his oldest brother Tom got married, William was working in Eccleston, most likely delivering bread or picking up supplies when he spotted a boy drowning in a pit. William successfully saved the boy's life. For this act of gallantry, he was presented with the Liverpool Shipwreck and Humane Society's bronze medal.

  When William joined the merchant navy as crew on the SS Ortega, he had an adventure in the Straits of Magellan. It occurred on 18 September 1914 when the Ortega was navigating south, along the coast of Chile, from Valparaiso to Montevideo. In addition to a small fortune, amounting to £117,000, the Ortega was carrying 300 French reservists and confidential mail from the Admiralty. When the vessel was about 50 miles from the entrance to the Straits of Magellan, she sighted the German cruiser, Dresden, approaching on an opposite course. The SS Ortega was only capable of 14 knots whereas the cruiser could achieve a speed of 20 knots. With the Dresden in pursuit, the Ortega changed course for Cape George and the ship's engineers achieved a speed of 18 knots. The Dresden came within range and fired a shot as a signal to heave to. Captain Kinnier of the Ortega, ignored the signal and continued on course, ordering the engineers to increase the speed of the ship to maximum. The Dresden then opened fire in earnest, but the Ortega, stern on, did not make much of a target. All of the shots fell short. Captain Kinnier chanced the shallow and uncharted channels of Nelson Strait, allowing the SS Ortega to reach waters which were impossible for the Dresden to navigate. The captain of the Ortega ordered some lifeboats to be lowered and manned.  He ordered them ahead of the ship to take soundings, as the ship followed slowly in their wake. In this way, the Ortega succeeded in navigating nearly one hundred miles of narrow and treacherous channel. The Ortega emerged into the Straits of Magellan, and then into Smyth's Channel making it to Rio de Janeiro and safely.

   After the SS Ortega returned to Liverpool, William enlisted for the 11th (Service) Battalion of the Lancashire Fusiliers. The battalion was raised at Codford in October 1914 as part of Kitchener's Third New Army, and joined 74th Brigade, 25th Division. The Division assembled for training in the area around Salisbury. They proceeded to to France on the 25th of September 1915, landing at Boulogne and was seconded to the area of Nieppe.  William and the Lancashire Fusiliers went into action to counteract the German attack on Vimy Ridge in May 1916, where William was sniping at the enemy. William was returning to the dug out when a shell burst killing him and wounding his two companions. He was 23 years old. After that, the battalion moved to The Somme and joined the battle just after the main offensive. The 11th battalion was to return to the Somme and engaged in other battles before armistice. In the 1914/18 war the battalion sustained as many as 1,000 casualties.

    William Critchley is buried on plot 1, row H, grave 23 at Ecovres, Mont-t Eloy, near Arras. His epitaph reads, Pte. William Critchley 9827, 11 Bn Lancashire Fusiliers, 6th May 1916.

The picture below is most likely the 11th Lancashire Fusiliers, as they have the same cap badge as in the photograph of William, above.

     

Jim Critchley... the biker

 James Crithcley, always known as Jim was the fourth child of Mary Ellen and James Critchley. Known to Mollie as "Granny's uncle Jim" he was the only one of three Critchley brothers to survive and return to St Helens when he was demobbed at the end of the first World War. At a guess this picture was taken by my grandfather when his brother bought a new motorbike. I will put the picture of him on the old one, which I guess my grandfather also took, in the same place and the same location at the end of the Knowsley Road terraced houses, below. Mollie writes:

     "James never married, He was in charge of the bakery side of the family business when his father died. During the 1914-1918 war he served in India, an experience he never forgot – as his family were well aware the following years! He must have had malaria, because from time to time there would be a recurrence. Fond of opera, he had a large record collection as well as a collection of ivory carvings. He was very generous, even treating my cousin and me to a holiday in the Isle of Man and frequently buying ornaments and curios for the house. In his retirement, he used to sail to the Isle of Man from Liverpool twice a week in the season and would meet retired sailors and other sea-loving friends on the boat."

    I also have my father's memories of his uncle Jim Critchley:" It was about my tenth Birthday that I finally conceded that other people might also be "real". An uncle from St Helens had been staying with us, a large rough handsome man of about fifty, who wore tweed suits, smoked a pipe and donned a cloth cap. Uncle Jim was a rogue in the family. He drank bottled stout and talked over-loud. he was also notorious for being "skint". – fleecing off brothers and sisters and in-laws with a hearty contempt for anything "posh". for some reason, Uncle Jim took to me and we became, during that week, good friends, to the dismay, I suspect, of my disapproving parents. At the end of the week,  on a Saturday, he went home, unlamented. Next day was my Birthday, and I awoke to find that Uncle Jim had left behind for me a beautiful new bicycle, not a fairy cycle, nor one for a fully grown boy, but it had a cross bar, pneumatic tyres, a pump, lamp and bell. I took it out into the street and stayed sitting on its enchanting little saddle thinking – "This is ten. This is what it feels like to be ten and I shall never forget this moment ever." One consequence was that I felt so confident of my own identity that I was afterwards prepared to allow that others, too, could be "real" – especially Uncle Jim. But all I can remember now is pride in my new bicycle, the scent of my father's roses, admiration (as I hoped) for my bicycle of a little girl across the road, and an intense preoccupation with what it felt like to be ten. I think the clicking of the school clock was still haunting me with the swift passage of time."

Below are pictures of Jim Critchley on his old bike, and another picture of Jim on a bike on a trip to the Lake District.

Phoebe Critchley, Mollie's Auntie Pe

 Phoebe Critchley was the eldest surviving child of James and Mary Ellen Critchley. Her niece Molly writes:

    "Phoebe was the eldest. She helped to look after the rest of the family. She was a housekeeper. I think this was quite usual in those days. There was also home help from Maggie (or Margaret) who was some sort of relative. Phoebe married James Matthews. They did not have any children. At some stage, before my day, she had some sort of internal operation – very dangerous in those days – her specialist being one of the surgeons in Rodney Street, Liverpool."

    "My grandmother died in 1937. After that my Auntie Pe (owing to the difficulty I had in pronouncing her name) continued to keep house and look after her husband and her brother, Jim, who never married. By this time we had moved to Glasgow. I used to spend holidays with them in Bleak Hill."

    "I thought my aunt was a wonderful person with her infinite patience, sympathy and her lively imagination. she lived a busy life, cleaning, baking shopping and providing, but she always had time to play games and have imaginative adventures."

    "The chores had to be done first, then, after Granny's uncle Jim had had his lunch, she would be free until her husband came home from work. Tuesdays and Fridays were shopping days. There were cakes from Bowley's with pink wafers on top, meat pies and custard tarts from Mercer's. There would be meat from the market as well as well a tripe – honeycomb usually – and pork from the butchers – Critchleys (no relation I think). Perviously she would have done her own big bake of cakes and goodies. There are getting on for hundreds of recipes in her cookery notebook. Friday, too, was the day when summer flowers, grown by Uncle Jim Matty, were cut and arranged for decorating the house. I remember especially carnations, lots of sweet peas, and gypsophila as well as marguerites and cornflowers."

    "In summer too there were picnics in nearby fields down Watery Lane. If time was short, Auntie would pack a basket and we would walk round the garden several times, pretending to see new exciting things on each tour. then we would settle in a corner and unpack the food."

   "There were many other imaginary games, like the time we had a cocktail bar. The family were teetotal, but that did not prevent the making of coloured water drinks. These would be arranged in old bottle and decanters on the inside dining room window-sill, along with an assortment of cheap glasses from the household store. I would dispense the drinks from inside the house, while my aunt would present to be a customer outside."

   "The pretending extended to her holiday stays with us in Glasgow when, for a day or two, we ran the "Cosy Corner Cafe" In our garage. Food was modelled by Auntie Pe in glitter wax and we used my doll's tea set and cutlery. I still have the menu." 

Tom Critchley, chemist from Knowsley Road

 This is a picture of young Tom Critchley, Mollie's uncle Tom, my grandfather. He wrote letters to her and her mother as he and his wife Annie Louise experienced the London blitz. This picture was taken in the greenhouse The Homestead, Knowsley Road, St Helens. My guess is that it was taken in the early years of the 20th century when he first went out to work. Later he married Annie Louise in Millom, Cumberland and was employed by Johnson Matthey. When he went for his first interview, he got lost in London when he tried to find the firm's Hatton Garden premises. Mollie remembers him:

    "Uncle Tom did very well at Cowley Grammar School, his name being on the merit board even in my time. He was a chemist and once, when a boy, he caused a shattering explosion on the railway wall at the back of the house, when attempting some experiment or other. He does not seem to have been all that strong, as at one stage, threatened with T.B. (I think) he went on a voyage to South America for his health, signing on as a supernumerary member of the crew. Despite all this he was good at cricket and very interested in photography, being one of the first to experiment with colour transparencies in 1938-1939.  Just before the First World War he got a job in London. Soon after he married Annie Darvell they lived in Barnet for many years before moving to a new house in Oakwood. Their two sons were called Ronald and Thomas (Tom).  Tom senior was an analytical chemist with Johnson Matthey in Brimsdown, where he designed their new silver nitrate plant as well as introducing several new processes. He had at least one Patent to his name."

     Also taken in the greenhouse at Knowsley Road is the picture below, which may be of Tom Crichley's own grandmother, Ellen Melling nee Wright, who died in 1907. The picture is about contemporary with the one above, which was probably taken in the first decade of the 20th century. It is one of the pictures from Phoebe Critchley's (Auntie Pe's) photograph book, so it is likely to be one of the family.

The Critchleys of The Homestead, Knowsley Road, St Helens

 Here is a picture of Knowsley Road, St Helens, taken in the early 20th century. Children are playing in the road; two of them are bare foot. Further up the road, is a child outside an end terrace house, which could have been inhabited by the Critchleys. One thing which had puzzled Mollie and other members of the family, is why did the house number change? Were the Critchleys moving regularly? One theory was that they defaulted on the rent and had to move. I noticed a similar change in the number of the terraced houses relatives lived in Great Yarmouth. I thought maybe the houses needed to be vacated to rid them of pests; to fumigate them. In fact the most likely explanation in both cases is that the numbering changed because the farmland opposite the terraces was developed. New housing is the most likely explanation for the number to change. In 1916 and 1918, Mary Ellen and James Critchley were living at 146a Knowsley Road when they received the devastating news from the War Office that their sons, first William, and then George, would never return home.

   Mollie writes that when she first knew her grandmother, she was living "in the family home, along with her daughter Phoebe and Phoebe's husband Jim and two of her sons, another Jim and Seth. This house at 164 Knowsley Road was known as "The Homestead". It had originally been joined to the one next door when it had belonged to the builder of the terrace. When the family took over, a central division had been made, thus creating two houses. The larger, right hand one belonged to the Critchleys. Downstairs there was a front parlour with a piano, and, at the back, the dining room, facing on to the back yard. Under the stairs was a sort of small cellar with steps leading down to it."

   "The kitchen had a large range and a table under the window with a rag mat on the floor, This kitchen led on to a wash place with a half door like a stable door. Outside was a garden and greenhouse with a paved path."

   "I often stayed at Knowsley Road, especially on a Friday night, when my parents went to the cinema. Uncle Jim Matty would take me home on Saturday morning."

   "Another memory of those days is making daisy chains in the field opposite the house. That field has long since disappeared along with Glassey's farm when the houses were built on the church side of Knowsley Road."

    "The family moved from that house, when I was about four or five."

NB Calling the house "The Homestead" may have avoided further number changes, as more housing was developed along Knowsley Road. From the Hogg family who lived in Stepney, East London, I have information that "The Homestead" was a popular name for houses around the time of WWl. The Hogg family taught the words to later generations and gave them to me from memory::

                                "The Miner's Dream of Home

                                "I saw the old homestead and faces I loved,

                                        I saw England's valleys and dells,

                                        I listened with joy, as I did when a boy

                                        To the sound of the old village bell.

                                        The logs were burning brightly,

                                       'Twas a night that would banish all sin,

                                        For the bells were ringing the old year out

                                       And the new year in"  

The Critchleys and the Isle of Man

 

This is a picture of James Critchley, right, with three of his sons. They are likely to be Tom, my grandfather, and two of his brothers, Jim and William. The photograph may have been taken on one of their trips to the Isle of Man. Ancestry tells me that many of my paternal connections are with North West of England and the Isle of Man. Mollie and I spent a holiday on the Isle of Man more than ten years ago. It was then she described how her grandfather James used to let the Critchley children run wild in the glens and blow a whistle to summon them back to him. I also remember being told, as a child, that great uncle Jim Critchley rode his motorbike so fast, that he didn't need to take the ferry over to the island. My guess is that he enjoyed the TT races. When I visited St Helens as a small child, great uncle Seth, the youngest of the brothers, took it on himself to 'reform' my accent and teach me colloquialisms. He drew cartoons and wrote little ditties to remind me. I can remember them and I have kept them. For instance "Who powed thee,"  translates as "who cut your hair." When we visited St Helens we also learned to make small food items, to go on my sister's dolls' house dining table, out of flour and water paste which we painted. After my grandmother died, my grandfather, Tom Critchley, lived with us in north London from 1957 until 1961. He had a keen analytical and logical intelligence. He loved a political, religious or philosophical debate.  In his career as a chemist he patented a method for developing photographs safely at home. He used his knowledge of chemical processes when he cooked for my grandmother later in life. For us, he made the sort of brittle toffee you might crack your teeth on, but it was good for making toffee apples in the autumn. He made furniture, miniature furniture for my sister's dolls' house and fencing and animal pens for my toy farm. He was a brilliant chess player. I could never win. He would take the time to explain what I had done wrong, giving me the opportunity to put it right in another game, but I still didn't beat him. I was relieved, when I read in his memoirs, that my dad was never able to win against his father either. Playing chess with my grandfather, I learned to enjoy the challenge and not to worry about winning. He also taught us card games, such as pontoon. As he was a smoker (Players Navy Cut), he saved the spent matchsticks and we used them to "gamble" with. He was also generous with pocket money and would sometimes give us half a crown (two shillings and six pence) He encouraged us to study and rewarded our exam results with gifts from the royalties he earned from the Patent Office. Tom Critchley was an avid stamp collector. He concentrated on British, Commonwealth and Protectorate stamps mainly, but delighted in stamps which designated violent regime changes and had the features of heads of state blanked out. He followed sports on television, particularly cricket and rugby league. Particularly enjoyable was watching those "Derbys" St Helen's versus Wigan with him. When he died and I went with Dad to sort out his things in the nearby nursing home, his stamps and hinges had been laid out ready to file the following day and a book on cricket was open on the table, with the book mark in it, showing as far as he had read. He had expected to continue organising his stamp collection and reading the following day.

NB: Half a crown, two shillings and sixpence would translate as 12.5 pence in todays money. If we saved up eight half crowns, we could have a whole £1 to put into National Savings. But Woolworths was just up the road in the High Street and that's where we usually spent it.