Alfred Blackmore was born on 25th October 1868 in the village of Thurlbear, near Taunton. Documentation varies and names cross over, but it appears that he was one numerous children to farm labourer William Blackmore and his wife, Mary Ann.
Details of Alfred’s early life are a bit hazy – again, in a rural location, names often cross over, so it is a challenge to totally confirm that they relate to the right person. His mother appears to have passed away by the time of the 1881 census, and Alfred was living with his father and three of his siblings and working as a farm hand.
Alfred again disappears off the radar for a while; in July 1894, he married Lucy Charlotte Yard, and the couple went on to have two daughters, Lucy and Beatrice. By 1901, the young family were living in the village of Frampton Cotterell, just to the north of Bristol, and Alfred had found employment as a marine fireman.
Ten years later, Lucy and the girls were still living in Frampton Cotterell, but Alfred was back in Taunton, lodging with a 75-year-old widow called Mary Croker and working as a labourer. This separation may have signalled the beginning of the end for the couple’s marriage.
War broke out, and it is evident that Alfred enlisted as a Private in the Somerset Light Infantry. Sadly, his service records are lost to time, but it appears that he served for at least three years.
The next time Alfred appears in documentation, it is a newspaper report on his passing, under the heading “Taunton Soldier’s Death”.
FOUND DROWNED AT BLACKBROOK
Mr F Foster Barham, coroner for West Somerset, held an inquest at the Blackbrook Inn, Ruishton, on Monday, relative to the death of Alfred Blackmore, aged 49, a private in the Labour Company at Taunton Barracks, whose body was found in the stream at Blackbrook on Saturday morning.
William Cozens, farmer… gave evidence of identification, and stated that on Friday he saw the deceased sitting by the hedge… about 400 yards from where the body was found.
William Richard Radnidge, butcher… stated that on Saturday morning he found the body in the stream dividing Ruishton from Taunton St Mary’s… His cap, belt and cape were on the bank. The deceased was lying face downward, his face and arms being in the mud below the surface.
PC Jenkins stated that at 10:45am on Saturday he received a communication from PC Wathen, in consequence of which he proceeded to Blackbrook, where he found the body lying under a hedge. He searched the body, and on it found a summons, returnable at Taunton on 29th June, for having failed to comply with a maintenance order obtained by his wife, Lucy Blackmore, on 25th September 1915, the sum of £2 13s [approx. £300 today] being due. On the back of the summons was written: “This is what my old cow has done for me.”
There was also the following letter: “When my body is found, don’t you give a farthing to my old cow. What I have got to come give to my brother, Edward Blackmore… Signed A Blackmore.” At the back of the letter was written: “Goodbye to all that I love.”
The deceased had left his lodging at nine a.m. on June 29th to attend the Taunton Police Court, but did not do so.
An officer stated that the deceased’s conduct during the three years he had been in the army had been satisfactory.
The Foreman of the jury said that according to the evidence they found that the deceased met with his death by drowning whilst temporarily insane.
Taunton Courier and Western Advertiser: Wednesday 10th July 1918
Alfred Blackmore took his own life on 6th July 1918. He was 49 years old [the war grave gives a different age].
Alfred lies at peace in St Mary’s Cemetery in Taunton, Somerset.
Frank Antell was born in 1880, one of seven children – six sons – to Thomas and Harriett Antell. Thomas was a groom, and Harriett a dressmaker and the family lived in the village of Martock in Somerset.
After Thomas died in 1893, Frank left school and became a carpenter. By the time of the 1901 census, he was living with his mother and youngest brother. Income seems to have been short – there were three other people boarding and lodging with the family.
In August 1904, Frank married Augusta Ring, and together they had five children – Lily, Ada, Leslie, Ronald and Freda.
Frank enlisted in the 13th (Works) Battalion of the Devonshire Regiment; this had been formed in the summer of 1916, so it can only be assumed that he was called up at the start. The battalion was based in Plymouth, so it is likely that Private Antell did not see fighting on the Western Front.
Private Frank Antell’s death is also a bit of a mystery. All that there is to confirm what happened is one stark sentence on his pension ledger:
Wounds self-inflicted during temporary insanity whilst on active service.
This one statement covers a multitude of sins, but does nothing to explain the mystery of what happened. There is no coverage of the incident or funeral in contemporary newspapers, so I have been unable to find any further explanation.
Frank Antell was a man with a young family. His regiment was based in England and was to be so for the duration of the war. One cannot imagine what thoughts were going through his head at the time he took his own life. That the 37 year old felt this was his only option is tragic.
Frank Antell lies at rest in the graveyard of All Saints’ Church in his home village of Martock in Somerset.
Frank’s widow Augusta went on to marry again in 1919, to a Joseph Maunder. She died in 1951 at the age of 73 years old.
When carrying out research on the Commonwealth War Graves, information remains tantalisingly elusive.
Sometimes just you can chance upon one document and the life of the person behind the name is laid out in front of you.
But in the majority of cases, the someone’s history has to be pieced together from a combination of sources.
Henry Harry Trevitic was born in around 1879 in Burton-upon-Trent, Staffordshire.
There are no records of Trevetics in and around that area at that time, nor are there any permutations of his surname – Trevethick or Trevithick, for example.
The first evidence I have found of Harry is on his military service records. He enlisted in the King’s Royal Rifles in August 1897, listing himself as a ‘cycle fitter’. The document asks if the applicant has previously served in the armed forces; Harry’s reply is that he is in the militia – the 4th Worcestershire Regiment.
Rifleman Trevetic’s military career is extensive; his records show continual service in the King’s Royal Rifles from 1897 to his death in 1915. This included three years in South Africa, two in India and eight months as part of the British Expeditionary Force within weeks of the outbreak of World War One.
The 1901 census finds Rifleman Trevetic at a convalescent home in Hanbury, near Droitwich, along with eleven other soldiers. He is marked as a Visitor, rather than a Resident, so it can be assumed that the owner of the home, whose brother is party of the military party, has put them up for the night (or longer).
Harry next turns up in 1902 when, in December, he married Frances Boyes in Southampton. His military career continued, however, and moving to the 1911 census, and Rifleman Trevetic is barracked in Woolwich. He is listed as married, while Frances is also based in the town, in female quarters.
While the details of his early life are pretty scarce, those surrounding his passing are much more in depth. Because of the circumstances, an inquest into his passing was ordered into his death; this included four pretty in-depth witness statements.
In January 1914, Rifleman Trevetic was appointed as an assistant to Captain Adjutant Makins in Winchester. In August of that year he was shipped with Makins to France and remained his servant.
On 14th September, Captain Makins was badly injured, and Harry helped carry him to the church in the village of Soupir in France, which was acting as a dressing station.
In Makins’ own words “there were 300 wounded closely packed, occupying the whole of the floor space. The groans and the smell, night and day were most distressing. Fresh wounded were constantly being carried in and dead carried out. Shell fire was constant and the general conditions were such as would severely try a highly strung man. During all this time, [Rifleman Trevetic] was my only attendant.”
Makins was moved to various hospitals in France, always accompanied by Rifleman Trevetic and eventually invalided home. Given the seriousness of Captain Makins’ injury, he was permitted to bring Harry back home with him.
On 1st March 1915, Captain Makins was passed fit for general service, and rejoined his battalion, along with his servant. Conscious that he may be sent back to the Front at any point, he warned Harry to be prepared for France again.
Captain Makins’ testimony takes up the tragic story.
On March 9th, he came to me and asked if I would see the Doctor on his behalf privately. He told me that every since his time in the dressing station at Soupir, his nerves had been ajar, and that he could neither eat nor sleep. He asked whether I could get the Doctor to do something for him, as he feared if he went sick in the ordinary way, he would be passed unfit for the front, and be unable to accompany me there, which he was very keen on doing.
Later in the day he came to me and asked me to take no notice of what he had said in the morning, that as a matter of fact he had taken to drink, which was the true cause of his trouble, and that he was entirely giving it up and would be right within a week.
His whole manner was strange and he appeared under the impression that I had discharged him. This was the first intimation I had of any strangeness in his manner.
Being busy I did not pay the attention to it that perhaps I should, more especially as I knew him to be a thoroughly sober and reliable man.
The following day he called me as usual.
About 8:30 am I was called from the mess and asked to proceed to my room at once. On arrival, I found the door locked, and various Officers’ servants outside. The key was on the inside of the door but so turned that the body of Rifleman Trevetic could be seen through the keyhole lying on the floor.
I broke open the door and found Rifleman Trevetic shot through the heart, my revolver lying by his side. The revolver contained one empty shell, I cannot say where this was obtained. There were a few rounds of ammunition in the room, but the marks did not correspond nor am I able to trace any similar ammunition in the Fort.
Captain G Makins’ statement, Inquest from Rifleman Trevetic’s service records
Three other servicemen gave statements into the tragic events of that day, and all summed up Harry’s demeanour in the same way as Captain Makins.
Rifleman Trevetic has throughout his service to me, been a model servant, and had during my time in hospital not only been invaluable to me, but also to the hospitals themselves. He was very happily married, and constantly spoke affectionately of his wife and as far as I can tell, was in no financial difficulties.
Captain G Makins’ statement, Inquest from Rifleman Trevetic’s service records
The inquest found that his death was self-inflicted and “at the time he shot himself he was temporarily insane, and that his mental condition was clearly caused by what he saw and went through when on Active Service in France, and that there was no other contributory cause.”
Temporary insanity, shell shock, war neurosis, combat stress, cowardice; however it was badged Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is commonly recognised these days, but was frowned upon in the Great War.
Sadly, while appearing eager to accompany his superior, it seems that the thought of actually returning to the Western Front was so terrifying to Rifleman Trevetic, that he felt there was only one route out. He was 36 years old.
Harry Trevetic lies at rest in the quiet graveyard of St James’ Church on the Isle of Grain, metres from the fort where he ended his life.
Harry’s widow Frances lived on. Whilst there was no mention of her husband’s death in the newspapers of the time, she received a handsome war gratuity and a pension that reflected Harry’s long service. She went on to marry again in 1917, to Jack Finch, a Sergeant in Harry’s battalion.
Given the stigma around mental health in the early twentieth century, and, it is amazing that the documents have survived as part of the Harry’s military records. The inquest into his death was carried out within days of his passing, and I find the findings of the report forward thinking in the way that it was written.
Harry was obviously a man who experienced way more than his mind was able to cope with – the trauma of that dressing station must have been so much worse than he had seen before during his two decades’ military service. But the report is clear in that it apportions blame for his death on the fighting and bloodshed in France; this was clearly out of character for Harry, and it was his experiences in the field of battle that drove him to his death.
What is less clear is how much Frances was told of his death. While the inquest was decisive, suicide was as much of a stigma as shell shock at that time. Would the King’s Royal Rifles have be honest with her about how he died? Or, while they where internally open, would they have pulled ranks around their own and protected Frances from the truth and themselves from rebuke?
