Picturing the Great WarThe First World War Blog from Mary Evans Picture Library

Great War Ready Meals & the Debut of Tinned Tuna!

We tend to think of ready meals as a modern-day phenomenon, but in fact, the people of Great War Britain were no strangers to convenience food.  

Exercising food economy was advised from the early weeks of the war, but as supplies began to dwindle the gradual rationing of basic foodstuffs soon led food manufacturers to extol the virtues of packet soups and tinned stews.

A surprisingly large number of the brands that once nourished the wartime population are still in existence today.  Bird's Custard for instance, claimed you could save sugar and time by adding it to stewed fruit whether it was for a nursery tea to feed, 'sturdy contented children' or to accompany a tin of something inedible in the trenches.  Condiments such as Lea & Perrin's Worcestershire Sauce fulfilled a similar role, and it was even possible to post a dozen half-size bottles to the front for five shillings.  Nestle's Condensed Milk could be used in a variety of enterprising ways - or simply spread on toast, and Horlick's Malted Milk drink claimed to improve the strength and efficiency of munition workers.  For soldiers at the front, the product could be eaten in concentrated form, as 'lunch tablets' - easy to fit in a haversack and the perfect sustenance on long marches.

Two now-obsolete brands are synonymous with First World War cuisine - Gong Soups and Machonochie's meat stew.  Gong Soups, 'the soups that sell by the million' were instant packet soups available in twelve varieties from 'thick gravy' to the more exotic Mock Turtle, Mulligatawny and Hare.  Advertisements listed the soups' numerous advantages; they required a minimum consumption of fuel, they were nutritious and at 2d. a packet, had not increased in price since the outbreak of war.  Such was the Gong Soup's panacaeic properties, one advertisement even went so far as to show a maid bringing in a steaming tureen of soup to a table of children waving their spoons in excited anticipation.

Maconochie's, a stew consisting of 3/4lb 'finest beef', together with carrots, haricot beans, potatoes and onions again claimed to be an economical and nutritious choice.  It was eaten widely by soldiers in the trenches who appreciated it as an alternative to bully beef, but advertisements from the period indicate that it also pitched itself as an excellent choice for family meals on the home front.  Reports on the stew's palatability varied.  Some people disliked the lumps of cold fat and claimed the potatoes were black, but Maconochie's continued to be manufactured until the early 1940s.

One more tinned food made its debut during the Great War.  We take tinned tuna fish for granted today but we found this advertisement from a February 1918 issue of The Tatler implying that tuna was a novel idea.  Jack Tar Tinned Tuna advertised something, 'completely new - quite different from anything that has ever been sold in this country before...a delicious fillet of fish; tender and delicate and tasting like chicken.'

We're not sure about the final claim, but it's interesting to think that the ubiquitous tin of tuna was first introduced to Britain as an alternative food for rationed Britain. 

 

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Luci Gosling

 

Royal War Babies

As the world holds its breath for news of the Baby Cambridge, it seems appropriate to look at the births of two royal babies who were both related to Queen Victoria but were born in 1914 just as the tightly woven familial bonds and marriage alliances among European royal familes, were about to be rent apart.  

In May 1913, the marriage of Prince Ernest Augustus of Cumberland, later Duke of Brunswick, to Princess Viktoria Luise, youngest child and only daughter of the Kaiser, was famously the last great gathering of European royalty before the outbreak of war, with the Tsar, King George V (dressed in the uniform of a Prussian general) and Queen Mary all in attendance.  In March the following year, the new Duchess of Brunswick gave birth to her firstborn, a bouncing baby boy named Ernest Augustus after his father.  With the baby's father a nephew of Queen Alexandra (via his mother, Princess Thyra, Duchess of Cumberland, who was the Queen's younger sister) and his mother a great-grandaughter of Queen Victoria, it was natural that among his godparents was King George V who decreed that all children born to the Duke and Duchess of Brunswick would enjoy the style of His (or Her) Royal Highness, Prince of Princess of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.  

Little Ernest Augustus was the subject of countless photographs; as the first child of the Kaiser's only daughter, he enjoyed a special place in the German public's affection and postcards of the plump and robust baby, wearing a frilled dress, as was traditional at the time, were sold in their thousands in aid of the soldiers of Brunswick.  But by 1917, he was no longer a Prince of the United Kingdom, the Titles Deprivation Act ensuring that any Germanic relatives were erased from the Windsor family tree.

Over in Britain, another royal baby had been born just four and a half months after Ernest Augustus.  Alastair, Earl of Macduff, was the baby son of Prince and Princess Arthur of Connaught, born on 5 August 1914, the day after Great Britain had declared war on Germany.  Alastair's mother, the former Princess Alexandra, Duchess of Fife, grandaughter of King Edward VII, and so also a great-grandaughter of Queen Victoria, had married her cousin Prince Arthur of Connaught, son of the Duke of Connaught, in October 1913.  Alastair was to be their only son.  

The Earl of Macduff was also the subject of numerous photographs, though his parents, and particularly his mother, who spent the war nursing, were naturally more shy and reticent when it came to publicity.  Nevertheless, the pictures of Alastair in his kilt, or holding a picture of trains are endearingly sweet.  

Meanwhile, the two boys' fathers were serving their respective countries during the war.  The Duke of Brunswick, who had joined the Black Hussars on succeeding to the dukedom, rose to the rank of Major-General in the Prussian Army though in 1918 was forced to abdicate and resign his commission .  Prince Arthur of Connaught served as aide-de-campe to General Sir John French and then on staff at General headquarters until 1919.  He was twice mentioned in despatches.

Alastair, Earl of Macduff never married and became the Duke of Connaught in 1942 on the death of his long-lived grandfather (his father had died prematurely of throat cancer in 1938).  But just a year later, he died suddenly, at the age of just twenty-eight during a visit to Government House in Canada.  With no heirs, the dukedom of Connaught and Strathearn became extinct.

Ernest Augustus, who had lost his hereditary title at the age of four, became head of the House of Hanover, marrying Princess Ortrud of Schleswig-Holstein with whom he had six children.  He died in 1987.   

Had it not been for the First World War, it is very likely these two boys may have grown up knowing each other, meeting at family gatherings in Germany and England through the years.  As it was they remained distant cousins, born into the opposing sides of one huge, extended family.  

 

 

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 Luci Gosling

Chariots of the Brave - YMCA cars give a helping hand to soldiers lost in London

Our last blog post profiled the Eagle Hut in Aldwych, which provided accommodation, food and friendship for American soldiers and sailors who found themselves on leave in the capital.  But the Eagle Hut was by no means the only one of its type.  Huts of all kinds, many of them affiliated to the Y.M.C.A.,  proliferated around London during the Great War to the extent that The Tatler magazine's gossip columnist, Eve, commented on the phenomenon.  Bemoaning the changes to beautiful St. James's Park she wrote of, 'huts, huts all the way,' suggesting that the most recent addition, a hut for the Ministry of Shipping, 'almost vies with Buckingham Palace itself.'  

Almost every available square foot of greenery in central London was comandeered for war purposes, often in some of the most prestigious locations.  In Sloane Square, the Bibesco Hut provided meals for many of the men stationed at the nearby barracks in Chelsea; a hut for American officers, in London, named the Washington Inn, was quickly erected in the leafy shade of St. James's Square and in exclusive Grosvenor Square, the Victoria Rifles, a Territorial regiment, took up residence.  'I suppose you don’t bargain for a perpetual smell of onioned stew when you scheme – and pay – for a Grosvenor Square residence,’ wrote Eve mischievously.  In the nearby Grosvenor Gardens, there was the Bryant and May hut, presented by the famous match-manufacturing firm and opened by Queen Alexandra.  At Victoria, a brewery was taken over to provide shelter for the men coming by train into the station from the Continent, and other huts were funded by a wide-ranging body of charities and companies including the Bank of England and the Variety Artistes' Fund (a hut in Rouen in France was even provided by the 'Dogs and Cats of Great Britain,' in a scheme masterminded by one lady, Miss Maud Field of West Berkshire). 

  Margaret Chute, a journalist writing for The Graphic magazine on various aspects of London at war, described in an article entitled, 'Chariots of the Brave,' on 30 December 1916, the impressive operation carried out daily by the Y.M.C.A., which endeavoured to find a space to lay one's head for every one of the estimated 1,600 soldiers arriving daily in London.

As London's after-theatre traffic had ebbed away, and the city was sleeping or supping, Miss Chute reported on, 'the Y.M.C.A. Night Motor Transport Column, rolling away to carry out its nightly duties.'  The drivers, many of them women volunteers, had a two-fold purpose.   Some of them headed to various London stations to meet soldiers and sailors arriving on late trains, driving them, free of charge to the nearest hut - or at least the nearest one with available space.  Drivers would enquire to see if a hut could accommodate the latest arrival and if not, would take them on to some other resting place.  Another branch of the Transport Column, would patrol London's streets, along prescribed routes, in order to scout for lost of strayed soldiers, 'chiefly Colonials, who find themselves far at sea in the sleeping metropolis.'  Offering help and guidance, they again, would take anyone without a place to stay to the nearest hut. 

The article was accompanied by a map, issued in January 1916 by the Civic Survey of Greater London for use by the City of London National Guard who would also help and guide lost soldiers (though the paper noted that since its publication many more huts had been built).  The paper also carried two illustrations by the artist Edgar Wright, one showing a female driver and her co-driver, picking up a soldier, laden down with his bags and great coat.  The second image gives an impression of the interior of a Y.M.C.A. hut and shows men sleeping in any available space.  While some early arrivals were lucky enough to secure a bed, others make do with chairs and many huddle up together on the floor.  Margaret Chute's description of the hut at Waterloo, notoriously the most busy, is incredibly vivid:

'Two steps lead to the door, and even here men are assembled.  Pushing open the door, it is necessary to step over a figure stretched on the floor to get inside the hut at all.  Once inside, behold a scene of unimagined strangeness.  Like a battlefield, the hut stands with dimmed lights, and everywhere men stretched out, asleep.  Here one knows they will wake again, to work and hope.

But the sight of those still figures conjures up a vision of other scenes, where the sleepers will never wake...Under the billiard table they lie like flies, and even on it; while many have secured long tables, and lie with their caps as pillows.  Round the stove a ring of sleeping men, in chairs or on the floor, with one man, head in hands, staring into the Unknown...

Armed with blankets, four Australians pick their way over the figure-furrowed floor, looking for vacant spaces - and the looking takes long.'

It was a routine that repeated itself across London night after night during the war, as huge numbers of men passed through the capital, on their way to or from the Front, for what was often an all-too-brief period of leave.

Accommodation may have been a little Spartan and basic, but the camaraderie of the huts and the support offered by the Y.M.C.A. infrastructure ensured that it was rare to find soldiers in London sleeping rough.  And of course, there were other delights on offer across the city - nightclubs, theatre and restaurants (for those who could afford them).

Moving back to the famous Eagle Hut, we have recently scanned this postcard  showing a view of the hut, with the Church of St. Clement Danes clearly visible behind the complex.  The postcard was sent by an American soldier to an address in Cherry Chase, Massachussetts in January 1919 when many Americans still remained in London.  The message was brief, but to the point.   

'Leaving "Blighty" on the 8:20 tonight but surely don't like to go for this is SOME town and I have been having SOME time.'

Clearly, for this 'Doughboy' and many others who spent time there during the Great War, London and its Y.M.C.A. huts offered everything a soldier might possibly need.

 

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 Luci Gosling

 

 

 

 

The Eagle Hut of Aldwych & the Battle of Bow Street

  The YMCA supplied British servicemen away from home in the UK and overseas with a place to eat, drink, relax, and write letters home. As American troops arrived in large numbers, the organisation committed to supplying a home from home for them in England’s capital. Operating from mid-August 1917, the YMCA’s Eagle Hut was officially opened on 3 September by US ambassador W.H. Page.

The Eagle Hut was established by four American businessmen based in London: E.C. Carter, Robert Grant, Grant Forbes and Francis E Powell. It stood at the point where the Indian High Commission and some of Bush House now stand, slightly west of the bottom of Kingsway on the north side of Aldwych. The Club could serve up to 5000 meals a day (it was calculated that 134,556 meals were served in February 1919 alone), provide a bed for overnight stays and was run by 800 volunteers, most of them women.  It also organised sightseeing tours and entertainment trips for men who found themselves alone in a strange country.  Keen to foster a sense of camaraderie among the various North Americans in the capital, one feature of the Eagle Hut was a huge map of the United States on one wall.  Visiting soldiers and sailors could stick a flag into their home town enabling them to link up with other men from the same area, with announcements by an attendant with a megaphone proclaiming the most recent connections.   

In recognition of Independence Day in July 1918, together with a number of other events around the capital (including a baseball match held at Stamford Bridge between the U.S. Army and U.S. Navy), King George V and Queen Mary visited the Eagle Hut, inspecting a guard of honour lined up by the hut's entrance.  

Eight months later, the Eagle Hut was the scene of an extraordinary disturbance on 9 March 1919 in what was to become known as the Battle of Bow Street.  A group of soldiers and sailors - some American and some British overseas men - were playing dice on the street outside the Hut, despite being previously warned they were breaking the law by gambling.   When two of the men were arrested and taken to Bow Street station, a crowd followed demanding their release.  The situation rapidly deteriorated and a riot ensued as missiles and sticks were hurled at police who in turn retaliated by charging the crowd with batons.  Estimates about the number involved range from between 1000 and 2000.  About twenty men, including seven policemen were injured and eleven Americans were handed over to the American military police to be tried by court-martial. 
That evening, American soldiers were transferred from the Eagle Hut to other quarters and all American sailors were ordered to report to their ships. Four Canadian servicemen appeared at Bow Street Magistrates' Court charged with riot, and six other servicemen who were injured in the riot were kept under guard in hospital before a later appearance in court.  It was an inauspicious episode for the Eagle Hut which had been an otherwise hugely positive addition to wartime London. 

 

The Eagle Hut finally closed its doors in August 1919. 

 

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Luci Gosling

Street Shrines - Queen Mary visits a Hackney community remembering its dead

Palace Road in South Hackney, East London was one of the area's poorest streets - and also one of the most patriotic.  By August 1916, 111 men from 77 houses in the road had joined up.  Inevitably, a proportion of this number had already given their lives while serving their country.   

It was a sorrowful tale that could be recounted in many other streets across the country, but in this particular urban enclave the residents chose to commemorate their heroic dead by displaying a roll of honour, framed by flags and ribbons.  Accompanied by portraits of royalty and military leaders (specifically Lord Kitchener who had drowned on board the HMS Hampshire on 5 June 1916) the tribute was mounted on the wall of a house on the street.  It was an outward display of local patriotism, and similar decorative tributes were located in nine nearby roads including Balcorne Street, Havelock Road, Frampton Park Road and Eaton Place.  These shrines were the suggestion of the the Rev. B. S. Batty, Rector of St. John of Jerusalem of South Hackney who was sensitive to the strong feelings of such a close-knit community, and the widespread sacrifice of families within his parish (Reverend Batty was also presented with a piece of the Zeppelin brought down by William Leefe Robinson over Cuffley, after it had flown over Hackney - he enshrined the souvenir in the church with the words, 'For the skill and courage of our airmen, we praise Thy name, oh Lord.')

In August 1916, the residents of Palace Road received a particularly auspicious visitor.  Queen Mary came to the street to inspect the Rolls of Honour and to talk to the locals.  She also stopped at Balcorne Street and spoke a few sympathetic words to a widow who had lost her husband in action in May 1915, handing her a bunch of fragrant red roses.  The roll of honour in Balcorne bore the name of 183 soldiers and sailors and Edith Scotchmere presented the Queen with a large bouquet on behalf of her brother who was serving in the Rifle Brigade.  The area was awash with flowers that day as the Queen brought posies to place in the vases beside each roll of honour.  

The picture we show here, with police officers struggling to contain excitable little boys, and heads craning out of windows for a glimpse of royalty, convey the morale-boosting effect of such a visit.  Royalty visiting the wartime East End is largely associated with King George VI and Queen Elizabeth visiting after the Blitz in 1940, but this picture goes to show that their predecessors knew a thing or two about meeting and greeting too. 

Palace Road no longer exists.  Severely bomb-damaged in 1940, the houses were demolished to make way for flat developments after the Second World War. 

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Luci Gosling