On 22nd August 2016, it will be exactly 100 years since Frederick Jury (Private no. 6044, 3rd infantry Battalion, 19th Reinforcement, in the Australian Imperial Forces) embarked from Australia on the ship HMAT A18 Wiltshire from Sydney to travel to France via Folkestone, to fight in the First World War.
How did the story of Frederick Jury come to light? A simple Thames mudlarking find last week one evening after work in Greenwich, London, on Thursday 27th August 2015. A small, piece of metal s0 insignificant I almost passed it by as a piece of shrapnel, but then I noticed through the mud and drizzly rain, an engraved name, “F. Jury", and a faded address. I popped it in my bag for closer examination later that evening. Perhaps it was a shop in Woolwich I thought. On returning home, I cleaned it off and the engraving was revealed to be "F. Jury, 72 Woolwich Road, SE" The SE would stand for South East London. 72 Woolwich Road is in Greenwich, SE10.
Occasionally, a seemingly innocuous find in the River Thames such as this, can be compared to opening up a glorious story book. It is no secret that it is the hidden stories behind the items which I find washed out by the Thames tide, which fuel my passion for mudlarking. With the help of a lot of people on twitter, (after I posted a picture of F. Jury's brass luggage tag last Thursday 27th August), I was to find that this small, muddy object was to conjure up a whole family of people from the past, with their lives opening up before me like an intriguing novel. These people and their very real dilemmas have lain forgotten for years (especially in this case, as there seems to be no living close relatives). So here is a brief outline of the very worthy life of Frederick Jury, the owner of the luggage tag, discovered in the Thames mud on 27th August 2015 at Enderby Wharf Greenwich.
I have had some wonderful help with the research about Fred and his family, and I would not have been able to write this blog about him without the invaluable help of a number of people, namely:
Deborah O' Boyle @dimblydeb
Julia Davis @familyhist2DAY julia.davis@familyhistorytoday.co.uk
Clay Harris @mudlarklives
John Layt @odysseus_nz www.layt.net/john
Rob Powell of @greenwichcouk
@catford_cat
@hp88
@London_Mush
Jason - Gravedigger at Greenwich Cemetery
The National Archives of Australia http://recordsearch.naa.gov.au
And I bet I forgot someone so please let me know if I did forget you!!
The Story of Frederick Jury of 72 Woolwich Road SE10, 1873-1932
Frederick Jury was born in Bermondsey/Southwark in 1873 to Frederick and Julia Jury. Records show that he grew up in Maidstone and Aylesford, and that his parents, (his father also called Frederick (first a labourer and then a sawyer)) and Julia were from Maidstone and Aylesford respectively. We know from research that he had a brother called William Jury, a Seaman, who was considerably younger than he was (born in 1891).
We don't know anything about Fred's childhood, but we do know that by 1900/01 he was a Gas Stoker, and he was renting a first floor furnished room at Sarah Amelia Elizabeth Carter's house at 572 Old Kent Road (1901 electoral register). The 1901 census reveals that Sarah Carter was running a coffee house there and that she herself was born in Newington in approx 1860. A bit about Sarah now who was to play a significant part in Fred's life. Sarah's father was called George Murrell and he was a greengrocer. She was married to James Carter on 27th March 1882 at the age of 22, and they had 2 children, Augustus James Carter (in 1883) and William Carter (born circa 1885). Sadly, her husband James died sometime after 1895. It seems that Fred and Sarah fell in love, and on 24th August 1901, Fred and Sarah got married, at St Philip the Apostle Church, Avondale Square. Sarah was 13 years older than Fred and was 42 when they married. He was 29. One interesting point to note is that one of the witnesses is a Ms Cecilia Lush (and Cecilia goes on to marry Augustus Carter, Sarah's son and Fred's stepson). I have to say that quite aside from everything else, I absolutely love the name Cecilia Lush! (If I ever change my name, I will most definitely call myself that). Sarah and Fred never did have any children of their own.
So where does 72 Woolwich Road come into it which is the address engraved on the brass luggage tag that I found on the Thames foreshore on Thursday 27th August? According to the 1904 electoral register, Fred was living at 72 Woolwich Road in 1904, and the 1911 census shows that Fred and Sarah are living there together. It would appear that Sarah was again running a coffee house from there. I love to imagine the people who might have come to buy a coffee from her at that time in Greenwich - and the conversations they might have had. There was also a boarder living at 72 Woolwich Road, William Sullivan, who was a brick layer. As a mudlark, I come across so many types of different vintage bricks, especially in Greenwich. I wonder if William Sullivan touched any of them. There seem to be rather a lot of Williams around at that time. Fred's brother was also a William and so was Sarah's son from her first marriage! The picture below is 72 Woolwich Road as it is today, just to the right of the Solicitors office.

We can only assume that life continued on at 72 Woolwich Road happily until 1914 and the outbreak of World War 1. It would appear that both Frederick Jury and his brother William Jury, enlisted into the Australian Imperial Forces within one month of each other. William Jury enlisted age 25 on 3rd March 1916 and Frederick enlisted on 19th March 1916 aged 42 years. Was Frederick pursuing his younger brother for some reason? This and much of the following information we know from the extensive Austrialian Imperial Forces war records to be found online. Why did they go to Australia to enlist? Well we don't know why, but it could perhaps be that the pay was apparently 3 times as much as the British Army, and in Fred's case it could have been that he was too old to enlist at home (and the upper age limit was higher in Australia). All this is of course just speculation. Maybe Fred wanted to protect his brother William. We do know that in all probability Fred travelled to Melbourne where he enlists at Cootramundra in New South Wales. Sarah we believe stayed in Greenwich, at 72 Woolwich Road, during this time. Then, on 22nd August 1916, almost 15 years to the day that he and Sarah were married, he embarked from Sydney, Australia to the UK on the ship HMAT Wiltshire. He then proceeded overseas from Folkestone to France on the SS Arundel in December 1916 to fight on the Western Front.
Fred fought with the Australian Imperial Forces 3rd infantry battalion, 19th reinforcement. The 3rd infantry battalion were sent to France to fight on the Western Front in 1916. For the next two and a half years the unit would serve in the trenches in France and Belgium and would take part in many of the major battles fought during that time. (In May 1919, following the end of the war, the battalion was disbanded and its personnel repatriated back to Australia). We can see from Fred's records that he saw active service in Meteren France, and it was here that he was severely wounded on several occasions; notably in March 1918 when he was hit by a stick bomb, which fractured his left foot, and then on 24th June 1918 he was hit by a grenade thrown at close range. I can only begin to imagine how terrifying it must have been. Fred received significant injuries to his chest, jaw, arm, finger, thigh and foot. He then had several fingers amputated as a result of his injuries, and received major injuries to his left foot. Some of the records are below. In June of this year, I found an unexploded world war II hand grenade very close to where I found Fred's luggage tag, near Enderby Wharf in Greenwich. The controlled explosion was enough to cause a stir in Greenwich, so imagine having one thrown right at you - in a very "uncontrolled" kind of way?! Terrifying. This must have been a worrying time for Sarah his wife too who must have been waiting to hear the worst at any moment. It is worth mentioning that during the course of its involvement in the war, the AIF 3rd Battalion suffered 3,598 casualties, of which 1,312 were killed in action
The photos below are groups of Australian Imperial Forces soldiers, taken at Meteren in 1916.
As a result of his injuries, Fred spent time in two military hospitals, The Harefield Hospital in the London borough of Hillingdon, and the Military Hospital, Shorncliffe, Kent. Fingers were amputated at Shorncliffe. Harefield Hospital was used as an Australian military hospital during World War One. It is here that Fred first had his foot operated on after it was hit by a stick bomb.
Finally, after many operations on his foot, and the amputation of his fingers, Fred was medically assessed as 100% disabled and was discharged from the Australian Imperial Expeditionary Force in London on 23rd April 1919. He had served 3 years and 36 days.
When he was discharged from the AIF, Frederick Jury received a "silver war badge".
According to Wikipedia, the Silver War Badge was issued in the UK to service personnel who had been honourably discharged due to wounds or sickness during World War 1. The badge, sometimes known as the Discharge Badge, Wound Badge or Services Rendered Badge, was first issued in September 1916, along with an official certificate of entitlement.The sterling silver lapel badge was intended to be worn in civilian clothes. The badge was to be worn on the right breast while in civilian dress, it was forbidden to wear on a military uniform.
We know that after World War 1, Fred Jury lived at 72 Woolwich Road and was there at least until the 1931 electoral register. He died on 27th January 1932 at Queen Mary's Hospital Roehampton, which was also a military hospital. Sarah was at 72 Woolwich Road until 1933, but thereafter she appears to have moved to Greenwich South Street, where she died in 1936.
As an aside, we also know that Fred's younger brother William Jury enlisted with the Australian Imperial Force just a few months before he did. He was seriously wounded in action, receiving multiple gun shot wounds to the head, and he was committed to Sunnyside Mental Hospital in New Zealand in the 1940s. He died in the 1960s, in the same hospital in New Zealand. He never married and he had no children.
Well you might think that that is the end of Frederick Jury's story. However, I thought I would try to find out where he was buried, with the idea that it would be nice to go and pay my respects to him. Well it just so happens that he is buried just around the corner from where I live - in Greenwich Cemetery. After downloading the map location from deceasedonline I made my way to Greenwich Cemetery straight after work, armed with said map, and also accompanied by a friend to help search the gravestones. Well....that is where the fun began, as I drove straight into Greenwich Cemetery (not paying attention to the fact that no cars are allowed - sorry!). Realising we only had 15 minutes to find Fred before the cemetery shut at 7pm, we were on a mission! The sunlight was streaming through the clouds and the view from the Cemetery over London was glorious. However, we had no time for that, as we leapt out of the car at area "Z", and tried to locate Frederick Jury's final resting place from what I realised was a rather vague map. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack, with the added worry that we might end up locked in the cemetery for the night. At 7.01pm we realised we had better head back to the gates, and to our great relief, the gates were not closed and we decided to wait until the gatekeeper came to close them. Sure enough, at 7.05pm precisely, a car sped through the gates and the driver looked at us rather curiously as we got out of the car to greet him. We explained the whole story in a nutshell and the wonderful Jason, grave digger with Royal Greenwich Parks, clearly putting aside the notion that we were quite bonkers, agreed to help us to fulfil our mission of finding Frederick Jury's grave. Well, I have never been in a cemetery office before, and I was overwhelmed to see the beautiful old leather bound books dating back to the early 1800s, with every burial registered within. Jason unfurled a copy of a parchment map of the cemetery so that we could try to pinpoint Fred's grave.
And of course, would you believe that there was a big rip in the map, where Fred's grave was located. Still there was nothing for it but to go and search the area. Jason explained that it was in an area reserved for paupers' graves, so there might not even be a stone.
Jason kindly agreed to accompany us and help us to search for Fred's grave, and so all three of us set off, aware that dark rainclouds were gathering and the light was fading. The "Z" paupers' area was sadly very overgrown, with small tombstones arranged back to back and in some cases completely covered in brambles and nettles. I wasn't feeling too optimistic to tell you the truth. In some areas you could have done with a machete. And then, after getting entangled many times in nettles and thorns, and peering underneath horizontal gravestones, my friend shouted "I've found Frederick". And so we all went to see him, and Jason straightened the stone. It was a moving moment for me, to see his final resting place, and as Julia Davis from Family History Today quite rightly pointed out, you can only imagine who may have stood there when they buried him all those years ago in 1932. And now of course, there are no relatives left to visit him. Indeed there are no relatives left to visit anyone in area "Z". There was only a rather resplendent fox which seemed to have the "Z" area earmarked as his patch.
Here below, is Frederick Jury's final resting place. I was a little concerned when I read "Beloved Husband of Millie Jury" (was this another wife we had not heard of?), but then I was reassured to hear that this was almost certainly a pet name for Sarah Amelia Elizabeth Frances (a shortened version of Amelia). In fact, Sarah's grave is also in Greenwich Cemetery (Zone C) and I plan to seek her in the near future too.
Jason the grave digger, my friend & myself spent a few moments next to Fred's grave. It seemed sort of sad that after such an intriguing life, we had to search in the overgrown brambles and grass for his headstone, but Jason, who must be used to such ponderings over the years, said that it really isn't about the material things we leave behind, or the state of the gravestone. It's the legacy we leave, the places we visit, the people we touched in our lives.
Here below, is Frederick Jury's final resting place. I was a little concerned when I read "Beloved Husband of Millie Jury" (was this another wife we had not heard of?), but then I was reassured to hear that this was almost certainly a pet name for Sarah Amelia Elizabeth Frances (a shortened version of Amelia). In fact, Sarah's grave is also in Greenwich Cemetery (Zone C) and I plan to seek her in the near future too.
Jason the grave digger, my friend & myself spent a few moments next to Fred's grave. It seemed sort of sad that after such an intriguing life, we had to search in the overgrown brambles and grass for his headstone, but Jason, who must be used to such ponderings over the years, said that it really isn't about the material things we leave behind, or the state of the gravestone. It's the legacy we leave, the places we visit, the people we touched in our lives.
There must be hundreds and thousands of undiscovered stories lying in the Thames waiting to be found one day. In the case of Frederick Jury, many decades passed before the Thames tide washed away the layers of thick mud to reveal the engraved luggage tag, washing away simultaneously the years until I found myself face to face with Fred and his family.
What is this fascination with a stranger from Woolwich who died over 70 years ago? I’ve had to ask myself that. What leads us to take a name on a tag and delve deeper into its history? Maybe it is because none of us want to be forgotten. None of us want to be just a name on a luggage tag that ends up in the River. We want to leave a footprint in the world : for our lives to mean something. That’s how I see it anyway. The good thing is, if you're reading this, you're still alive, and you can still be the author of your own story.
So that is the outline of Fred Jury’s life pulled together from the various databases and heritage sites that have information about him. Of course, what we can only imagine, are the real feelings, thoughts and emotions that Fred went through – decisions, considerations, worries, what made him laugh, what made him happy. Why he went to Australia. What he saw when he looked out from the decks of the HMAT Wiltshire. What his dreams were.
This brings to mind a quote from a book written by Douglas Kennedy "The Pursuit of Happiness", which I read last year. A quote which really spoke to me.
"And do you want to know something rather amusing? My past my choices - when I die, all that past will vanish with me. It's the most astonishing thing about getting old : discovering that all the pain, all the drama, is so completely transitory. You carry it with you. Then, one day, you're gone, and nobody knows about the narrative that was your life. Unless you've told it to somebody or written it down."
Douglas Kennedy - The Pursuit of Happiness
It’s so true.
So I put this to you. If someone found your luggage tag in the Thames in 100 years time, what would they write about you.
What is your story?
What is this fascination with a stranger from Woolwich who died over 70 years ago? I’ve had to ask myself that. What leads us to take a name on a tag and delve deeper into its history? Maybe it is because none of us want to be forgotten. None of us want to be just a name on a luggage tag that ends up in the River. We want to leave a footprint in the world : for our lives to mean something. That’s how I see it anyway. The good thing is, if you're reading this, you're still alive, and you can still be the author of your own story.
So that is the outline of Fred Jury’s life pulled together from the various databases and heritage sites that have information about him. Of course, what we can only imagine, are the real feelings, thoughts and emotions that Fred went through – decisions, considerations, worries, what made him laugh, what made him happy. Why he went to Australia. What he saw when he looked out from the decks of the HMAT Wiltshire. What his dreams were.
This brings to mind a quote from a book written by Douglas Kennedy "The Pursuit of Happiness", which I read last year. A quote which really spoke to me.
"And do you want to know something rather amusing? My past my choices - when I die, all that past will vanish with me. It's the most astonishing thing about getting old : discovering that all the pain, all the drama, is so completely transitory. You carry it with you. Then, one day, you're gone, and nobody knows about the narrative that was your life. Unless you've told it to somebody or written it down."
Douglas Kennedy - The Pursuit of Happiness
It’s so true.
So I put this to you. If someone found your luggage tag in the Thames in 100 years time, what would they write about you.
What is your story?
Rest in Peace Frederick Jury.
Gone but by no means forgotten
Gone but by no means forgotten