roots1937

A Seamless Thread

There aren’t many positives to take from the current coronavirus pandemic but, possibly, clutching at straws, our time indoors gives us more time to catch up on our reading. With that in mind I have just finished ‘Telling the Truth: the British Honduran Forestry Unit in Scotland (1941-44)’ by Amos Ford. Our friend, the Yorkshire historian, Audrey Dewjee, recommended this book to me some time ago. It’s a slim volume but no less interesting for that.

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The book covers one of the little known byways of black British history, just the sort of thing that intrigues us at Historycal Roots.

Amos worked as a civil servant (in the same Department as me as it happens; our careers overlapped by 10 years but we never met) until he retired in 1980. He clearly then spent many productive hours at the National Archives at Kew researching the official records covering the story of the British Honduran Forestry Unit in which he himself had served. Evidently he was shocked by the racism of the British authorities that he found documented in the files. The reports, he says, ‘made disturbing reading.’

In 1941 Britain was crying out for timber, the chair of the Forestry Commission estimated that at least 5.7 million tons would be needed in that year alone. This may seem strange today but the British economy was heavily reliant on coal and coal mines needed substantial quantities of timber to prop up the walls and roofs of the tunnels as the coal was dug out. Before the war much timber (4 million tons in 1936) had been imported from continental Europe, 2 million tons had come from Finland alone. With German forces now in control of most of the pre-War sources of timber Britain needed to look elsewhere. She didn’t need to look far, the hillsides of Scotland, England and Wales were covered with the stuff. There was no actual shortage of the raw material, what was lacking was the men to cut it.

This was where the colonies could help and foresters from Canada, Australia and New Zealand were recruited. British Honduras (now Belize) was identified as another source of recruits. The men from British Honduras had just the skills that were needed, indeed they were used to felling hardwood trees like mahogany and so the softwood trees of Britain would have been ‘no more than broom-sticks’ in comparison.

There was no shortage of willing volunteers and 500 recruits quickly came forward, in Amos’ words they signed up ‘with alacrity, charged with all the love and patriotism of England.’ Getting the volunteers to Britain posed logistical problems at a time when German submarines were wreaking havoc on shipping in the Atlantic. Making the arrangements took precious time and in the end the volunteers had to split between several different ships. The SS Strathaird and SS Orbita[1] left Trinidad where the men had mustered, in August and got 381 volunteers safely to Glasgow and Liverpool respectively without major incident. Amos was on the third ship to leave Trinidad, the SS Winnipeg, which left Port-of-Spain on 11th September. The Winnipeg was not so lucky, being battered by a force 10 storm, a hurricane and was torpedoed by a German U Boat. The ship limped to Iceland where Amos and his colleagues transferred to the SS Bergensfjoird for the last leg of the journey to Scotland.

Given that planning for the establishment of the unit had started in May it was a surprise to the first men to arrive that their camp was ‘in a sorry state of unreadiness and disarray.’ and they had to sleep in ‘tents in the cold night air of Scotland in late Autumn.’ The dining hall and toilets were unfinished ‘and the men had to plough through ankle deep mud to reach their temporary mess facilities.’ Reading the official reports at Kew it became evident to Amos that forestry units from other parts of the Empire had been catered for significantly better. At the camps occupied by the Newfoundland unit, for instance, ‘the canteens were clean and well kept’ and ‘education huts were attached to each canteen’ where ‘the Newfoundlanders made considerable use of the opportunities for study.’ Amos notes the ‘significant contrast’ with the situation at the camps provided for the men of British Honduras.

The men from British Honduras experienced an entirely unfamiliar climate: ‘it was a cold task because one was working in the open, high up on a Scottish hillside where the timber was located in most cases. Travelling in uncovered trucks in the icy winter mornings was, itself, a daunting experience! With the vehicle moving fast over the road, ensuring that it did not become a German raider’s target, the very cold winds were more than our tropical bodies could stand at times.’ The accommodation didn’t help, the huts ‘had huge holes in parts of the floor-boards and walls and openings in the ceilings,’ which ‘let in the biting winter night air.’ The single wood-burning stove in the centre of the hut (each hut accommodated about twenty men) simply wasn’t up to the task of keeping the men warm. The Duke of Buccleuch, whose estate many of the men were working on, wrote to Harold McMillan (then a junior Minister at the Colonial Office) describing the men as ‘lazy at work and requiring a good deal of waking up to get anything out of them.’ McMillan’s reply observed that in his view the men were ‘not lazy but intolerably cold.’

The Duke of Buccleuch had another cause for complaint: ‘the local women and girls had interpreted too widely the request to be kind with the foresters,’ in his words some local females had been ‘over zealous’ in their welcome of the black foresters. The Duke’s real concern was to prevent miscegenation, something that anyone who was read ‘Mixing It’ by Wendy Webster will know was a major source of concern to the British authorities at the time, a concern that bordered on obsession. Amos comments that it was a clear policy objective of the officials dealing with the black forestry units to keep the races separate.

It was also important that the black men should ‘know their place’ and that place was subordinate to white men. Amos quotes a memorandum from an official at the Ministry of Supply: ‘My own view is that the foreman or whatever name is given to the man in charge of each camp, should be a white man … I should suggest that we might try to recruit the chief man in charge of each camp from ex-Indian officers or ex-tea planters or rubber planters – men who have been accustomed to handling coloured labour. It may however be possible to recruit such white men in British Honduras and, of course, this would be preferable as presumably such white men would be able to speak the language.’ Amos says he was confused and astonished by the level of ignorance and racism displayed here.

Various other indignities were heaped up the black foresters before the unit was disbanded in 1944 and (most of) the men shipped back to British Honduras. Not all returned, some chose to stay in Britain and make new lives for themselves here. Amos Ford himself married Hilda Wilson in Newcastle in the early months of 1945 and they went on to have a large family together.

Perhaps what is most surprising about Amos Ford’s account is that he seems to have been surprised by the racism he encountered on open display in the files at Kew. You really don’t have to look very hard to find shocking examples of how the British authorities regarded black people in the colonies. While researching at Kew for the book ‘The Walker Brothers And Their Legacy: Three Black Soldiers In World War One’ I came across the story of Merwyn Deniston Crichton {file reference CO 295/460/58].

In 1910 Merwyn was a civil servant working as a book keeper in Trinidad. On 28th October he applied for an advertised post as a storekeeper in Sierra Leone. He was young and keen to get on in life and for him this would be a promotion. The Acting Governor of the island, S W Knaggs, endorsed the application, reporting that Mr Crichton ‘is intelligent and hard working and has some experience as a storekeeper … he has shown a satisfactory grasp of these duties and would in his opinion [the reported opinion of the Director of Public Works] competently fill the post for which he applies. I have the honour to be, My Lord, Your Lordship’s most obedient, humble servant.’

But Mervyn’s application troubled those considering it. It wasn’t Crichton’s capability that was in question, it was his colour. There is a query on the file: ‘do you know whether Mr Crichton is of more or less unmixed European origin?’ The reply ‘I cannot say, but the number of pure white families in St Vincent (where he was born) is distinctly limited,’ only served to fuel concerns. The correspondence on the file goes on to suggest that Acting Governor Knaggs should be reminded that the authorities in Trinidad ‘had been told always to let us know whether applicants for transfer were coloured or European.’ The added comment ‘I have little doubt he is coloured’ draws the discussion of Crichton’s colour to a close.

The sorry saga concludes with the suggestion that the application should be acknowledged and Mr Crichton told that ‘other arrangements have been made for filling the post of storekeeper’ with a final reminder ‘I have the honour to request that in cases of application for promotion such as that of Mr Crichton I may be confidentially informed whether the candidate is or is not of pure European descent,’ with the added comment that ‘we must discourage the idea that every tin pot clerk who cares to apply has the chance of getting one [a promotion].’ The flowery language makes no attempt to disguise the message that black men needed to know their place.

Merwyn’s story scarcely merits a footnote in the history of Britain’s relationship with her colonial subjects but it does illustrate in microcosm the way that insidious institutional racism can cast a blight over people’s lives.

You might hope that examples like Merwyn’s and the Forestry Unit are just ‘history’ and that the British authorities have moved on. Sadly such hope is misplaced as Wendy William’s recent report into the root causes of the Windrush scandal demonstrates all too clearly. The report’s author concluded that ‘The factors that I identified demonstrate an institutional ignorance and thoughtlessness towards the issue of race and the history of the Windrush generation’ and that ‘some senior civil servants and former ministers showed ignorance, lack of understanding and acceptance of the full extent of the injustice.’ Williams is shy of accusing the Home Office of being ‘institutionally racist’ but reading the report I cannot share her coyness. The report contains many case studies some of which will be familiar to anyone who followed the scandal, they have lost none of their ability to shock and appall.

Wendy Williams full report can be found here: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/874022/6.5577_HO_Windrush_Lessons_Learned_Review_WEB_v2.pdf

These stories (sadly there are many others that could equally well have been quoted) illustrate a seamless thread running through Britain’s relationship with the people of its colonies and former colonies and that thread goes by the name ‘institutional racism’.

Wendy Williams’ report contains 30 recommendations. Williams acknowledges that the Home Office has apologised but in her words ‘The sincerity of this apology will be determined by how far the Home Office
demonstrates a commitment to learn from its mistakes by making fundamental changes to its culture and way of working.’ Historians of a future generation will be able to judge just how ‘heartfelt’ the various Ministerial apologies for the scandal really were by seeing what, if anything, changes and whether the ‘seamless thread’ truly can be broken.

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[1] The SS Orbita was the ship the brought James Berry from Jamaica to Liverpool in September 1948. Berry, one of the early pioneers of the Windrush generation, went on to make a name for himself as a poet and was awarded the OBE in 1990

Equiano’s ‘Interesting Narrative…’ – The Dutch Edition

We were honoured to be asked to conduct research into the Dutch edition of Olaudah Equiano’s ‘Interesting Narrative’. First published in London in 1789.

The ‘Narrative’ was an instant best seller, it had run through nine editions by the time Equiano died in 1797 selling something like 30,000 copies – a phenomenal number for a book in those days (and not too shabby now!).

The book’s success piqued the interest of publishers on the Continent. There were no copyright laws in those days so there was nothing to stop any enterprising publisher from producing their own version of the book. With the prospect of money to be made, publishers in Holland, Germany and Russia jumped on the bandwagon. All they had to do was get the book translated, print it and wait for the proceeds to roll in.

The book was published in Dutch in the Autumn of 1790. We wanted to find out as much as we could about the circumstances of the publication and our research took us to Utrecht to meet Professor Marijke Huisman at the university there. Her paper ‘Beyond the subject: Anglo-American Slave Narratives in the Netherlands, 1789 – 2013’ contained some valuable insights but we wanted to find out more. In addition to meeting Professor Huisman we were able to see a copy of the book in the university library:

We reported the results of our research at an event held at the Black Cultural Archives in Brixton (calypsonian Alexander D’Great was one of those who also featured and is pictured here with us):

You can read more about what we discovered here:

http://historycalroots.com/equianos-interesting-narrative-the-dutch-edition

Krios of Sierra Leone at the Museum of London Docklands

The Museum of London Docklands has always been one of our favourite museums. No matter how many times we go, there is always something new to see.

We have long wanted to see the Krios of Sierra Leone exhibition which has been on display at the Museum since September 2019. We finally got to go last week and were not disappointed. The exhibition aims to publicise the largely untold history, heritage and culture of the Krios people from Sierra Leone and it certainly achieves that objective.

It was fascinating and informative to see how many famous people are of Krio descent. One of Historycal Roots’ old favourites, Samuel Coleridge Taylor (below), is one such example.

We won’t risk spoiling your enjoyment by telling you everything about the exhibition but if you can get along to view it we can guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

Remember Fitz Griffith: 100 years since he died

Bill hern writes: Fitz Griffith is a War Hero. He served in World War 1 as a Private with the British West Indies Regiment. Tragically he contracted an illness – probably tuberculosis – and was declared medically unfit. He returned to Barbados where he died and was buried in St Lucy Parish Church Cemetery in a Commonwealth War Grave.

When I last wrote about Fitz three years ago, I expressed great sadness that his gravestone did not face the Church and was hidden from view by thick bushes.

I re-visited his grave on 20th November 2019 and am pleased to give credit to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission for clearing the undergrowth, although Fitz’s gravestone does still face away from the Church.

But, much, much worse, the grave is now partially submerged in a small lake.

It is totally inaccessible to anyone not wearing waders and impossible to view as it is facing away from the Church, on the outer boundary of the Cemetery and surrounded on all sides by water.

To someone’s credit (and I suspect it is the Commonwealth War Graves Commission) an intrepid lady or gentleman must have donned waders recently to affix a poppy to Fitz’s grave. Well done that person, although the poppy, like the grave, is virtually impossible to get to or view.

I managed to get photographs of the grave after eventually tracking it down, clambering through undergrowth and ‘paddling’ until the water was well above my ankles.

It pains me to say this as I love Barbados and St Lucy, but the Cemetery is in a disgraceful state. The grounds are badly overgrown and there is rubble and litter everywhere.

Draining the lake seems an unlikely and expensive option but Fitz must not remain isolated and forgotten. Surely his gravestone could be removed and, like Siebert Raper’s gravestone in St James, be erected in a prominent position on the church wall?

This all takes on even greater importance as, in four days time on 24th November, it will be the 100th anniversary of Fitz’s death.

It would have been nice, if perhaps naive, to think people might have made an effort to visit his grave and remember him on such a momentous day but, as you can see, that is unlikely to happen. Perhaps those reading this will take a moment on 24 November to remember a brave young West Indian who gave his life for the Mother Country?

Windrush Pioneers and Champions … in Barbados!

On Thursday, 14 November 2019, Bill Hern, a museum member, presented the Barbados Museum & Historical Society with a copy of the book “70 Windrush Pioneers & Champions” by the Windrush Foundation.

In the picture, the book is being presented to the registrar, Angela Boyce.

On their Facebook page the Society commented how much they appreciated Bill’s contribution to the Shilstone Memorial Library.

An Equiano engraving and a mysterious poem

Behind the scenes the Historycal Roots team have been doing work recently on behalf of the Equiano Society. Over the next few weeks we will bring you some of the fruits of our labour.

As part of our work Bill Hern visited the National Portrait Gallery in London where he had arranged to see the engraving used as the frontispiece for Equiano’s ‘Interesting Narrative’. Parts of his story make uncomfortable reading.

The print isn’t on display but is stored in the archives at the gallery, anyone can make an appointment to see it.

The first thing one notices is how small the picture is – 156mm x 95mm.

The original artist is W Denton. Denton is little known, but the man who carried out the stipple engraving of Denton’s print, Daniel Orme, was more celebrated.

Orme was born in Manchester on 25 August 1766. His mother, Margaret Walmsley was the third wife of his father, Aaron Orme. Orme lived in London from 1785 to 1814 and studied at the Royal Academy before becoming a painter and engraver. The Dictionary of National Biography records him as portrait painter and engraver to George III. As late as August 1861 Orme (deceased) is described on his son Frederick’s wedding certificate as ‘engraver to George III’. He was clearly a talented and high profile artist.

While the National Biography cites several of Orme’s works, there is no mention of the Equiano engraving. This suggests it was not one of his major pieces.

Orme returned to Manchester in October 1814 before dying of ‘paralysis’ in Liverpool on 8 February 1837.

The Equiano engraving is one of Orme’s earliest works. He tended to focus on naval characters such as Admirals Duncan and Nelson and the lesser known Jack Crawford, the ‘Hero of Camperdown,’ a naval battle of 1797.

One significant and perhaps relevant exception, was his painting of George Alexander Gratton – The Spotted Boy:

George Alexander (Gratton), a black boy with white markings. Engraving by P.R. Cooper, 1809, after D. Orme. Credit: Wellcome Collection. CC BY

George was born on the Caribbean island of St Vincent. He had a skin condition, almost certainly, Vitiligo, which meant his black skin had white markings. In approximately September 1809, when he was 15 months old he was purchased for the sum of £1,000 by a travelling showman called John Richardson and transported to Bristol. It is said that Richardson treated George like a son. Certainly George proved a lucrative source of income for his ‘owner’.

Orme painted George ‘from life’ and the painting was published on 11 November 1809. This means Orme must have met George shortly after his arrival in England. He would also have spent considerable time with the young child who no doubt would prove a restless model.

The painting was later engraved under Orme’s direction by his then pupil, P R Cooper. The writing beneath the painting shows that it was published by Richard Gratton Esquire, London. Gratton was the name of the overseer or owner on the plantation where George’s parents were enslaved, it is likely Richard Gratton Esquire is the same person. The painting was sold by Orme from his address at 368, Oxford Street, London.

Copies of the engraving were later sold as souvenirs to those who visited the exhibitions to stare at poor George.

Sadly George was to die on 3 February 1813 aged only four years old.

Evidence that Richardson did care for George can be found in the fact that he had him baptised in Newington, Surrey shortly after his arrival in England. In death, he kept his body safe from thieves by having him buried in a brick vault in Great Marlow, Buckinghamshire.

Richardson later donated a portrait of George to All Saints Church, Great Marlow and erected a monument to him, also in Great Marlow.

The monument reads:

TO THE MEMORY

GEORGE ALEXANDER GRATTON,

THE SPOTTED NEGRO BOY,

From the Caribbee Islands, in the West Indies, died February 3d, 1813, aged four years and three-quarters.

This tomb, erected by his only Friend and Guardian, Mr John Richardson, of London.

Should this plain simple tomb attract thine eyes,

Stranger, as thoughtfully thou passest by,

Know that there lies beneath this humble stone,

A child of colour, haply not thine own.

His parents born of Afric’s sun-burnt race,

Tho’ black and white were blended in his face,

To Britain brought, which made his parents free,

And shew’d the world great Natur’s prodigy.

Depriv’d of kindred that to him were dear,

He found a friendly Guardian’s fost’ring care,

But, scarce had bloom’d, the fragrant flower fades,

And the lov’d infant finds an early grave,

To bury him his lov’d companions came,

And drop’t choice flowers, and lis’d his early fame;

And some that lov’d him most, as if unblest,

Bedwe’d with tears the whice wreath on his breast.

But he is gone, and dwells in the abode,

Where some of every clime must joy in God!

The good news in this message is that George’s parents gained their freedom because of George, although they would have seen nothing of the £1,000 which Richardson paid for the child. The other good news is that George was clearly cared for by Richardson no matter how repulsive and cruel his treatment was.

Students of Equiano will recognise many of the words in the epitaph. If you are trying to recall where you have seen them before let us remind ourselves of the words on the plaque at St Andrew’s Church, Chesterton in Cambridgeshire commemorating Anna Maria Vassa the daughter of Equiano:

Should simple village rhymes attract thine eye,

Stranger, as thoughtfully thou passest by,

Know that there lies beside this humblest stone,

A child of colour haply not thine own.

Her father born of Afric’s sun-burnt race,

Torn from his native field, ah foul disgrace:

Through various toils, at length to Britain came

Espoused, so Heaven ordain’d, an English dame,

And follow’d Christ; their hope two infants dear,

But one, a hapless orphan, slumbers here.

To bury her the village children came.

And dropp’d choice flowers, and lisp’d her early fame;

And some that lov’d her most, as if unblest,

Bedew’d with tears the white wreath on their breast;

But she is gone and dwells in that abode,

Where some of every clime shall joy in God.

Apart from some customisation to reflect different individual circumstances the words commemorating Anna Maria and George are remarkably similar. Yet Anna Maria died in July 1797 almost 15 years before George.

It had been thought that Anna Maria’s poem had been written by Martha Ferrar Peckard the wife of the Peter Peckard the Dean of Peterborough and a friend of Equiano. That may still be the case of course as Martha was known to be a poet. Indeed one of her poems ‘Ode to Spring. By a Lady’ can still be found on the poetical scavenger website

http://poeticalscavenger.sfsuenglishdh.net/poems/anonymous-ode-to-spring-by-a-lady/

But would her words have spread almost 100 miles from Cambridgeshire to Great Marlow and still be used so long after Anna Maria’s death? Someone must have written these words and Martha remains the most likely author.

However, let us return to Equiano’s print. The small writing at the foot of the print tells us that W Denton was responsible for the print and D Orme was the ‘sculptor’ – in other words the engraver. We are also told that the print is of Olaudah Equiano or Gustavus Vassa the African and it was published on March 1 1789 by G Vassa, some 3 weeks before the first edition of The Interesting Narrative was published.

The Bible that Equiano is holding is open at Acts Chapter 4 Verse 12 which reads:

“Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.”

It is likely that, like the engraving of George, Equiano would have run off many copies of the print to distribute during his tours around Great Britain.

The original engraving is in very safe hands at the National Portrait Gallery and can be viewed by appointment at the Gallery’s archives.

Pilot Officer Winston Kitchener ‘Pony’ Hynam DFC DFM

This contribution to Historycal Roots is written by Audrey Dewjee, who has been researching British Black and Asian history for the last 45 years.

It is not generally well-known that men from Africa and the Caribbean volunteered to serve in the RAF in World War 2. About 5,500 served as ground crew and over 500 more flew in bomber and fighter aircraft. A new movie features some of the men who risked their lives to help Britain beat the Nazi regime. Hero: Inspired by the Extraordinary Life & Times of Ulric Cross, directed by Frances-Anne Solomon, is a must-see film with an important message for people of today.[1]

Every film needs a ‘bad guy’ to enhance the narrative. In Hero this role is assigned to “James Macfarlane,” a fictional character given the nickname “Pony”. It is unfortunate that this purely fictional character is portrayed in the film as being the warden of the West Indian Students Centre and is known to all by the nickname “Pony”. I worry that some filmgoers may not realise that James Macfarlane is a fictional character – especially as all the other main characters in the film are real historical personalities – and that this may result in confusion between the fictional character (a ‘baddy’) and the admirable real historical person nicknamed “Pony,” who ran the Centre from 1954 until its closure in 1978.

Who was Pony Hynam?

Some time in the late 1970s, I went with a friend called Audrey Elcombe to interview an ex-RAF Pilot Officer. Audrey was doing research for a book she was writing about Black aircrew in the Second World War.[2] I didn’t make any notes at this meeting but, on hearing his story, I felt very privileged to meet Winston Kitchener Hynam. I have taken the following information about him from various websites, principally from http://www.caribbeanaircrew-ww2.com – the website founded by ex-Flight Lieutenant Cy Grant. More pictures and 32 of Pony’s log books are available to view at http://www.caribbeanaircrew-ww2.com/index.php?s=hynam&Submit=Search

Winston Kitchener Hynam, known to everyone as “Pony”, was born in Bridgetown, Barbados in 1917. When World War 2 began, he enlisted in the RAF to help fight Nazi tyranny. He started his career as a Sergeant in 103 Squadron where he served as a Front Gunner and a Wireless Operator on Wellington bombers, and later as an Air Bomber on Halifaxes. David Fell comments “He was awarded a well deserved DFM (Distinguished Flying Medal) for his excellent work in three separate aircrew trades during the same tour which must be unusual if not rare.”[3] Being a front gunner was especially dangerous as he would be a prime target for attacking enemy fighters.

Once, when he was flying as Front Gunner on a bombing raid to Paris, the Wellington he was in was hit by flak at 2,000 feet. The plane’s intercom and hydraulics systems stopped working and the crew knew that the pilot would have to make a crash-landing back at base. Throughout the return trip ‘Sergeant Hynam remained outstandingly cool and alert…setting a fine example [to the rest of the crew].’

His Wing Commander, in recommending Pony for his DFM, wrote the following about him:

‘Sergeant Hynam has taken part in 30 operational sorties of which 9 have been as 1st Wireless Operator, 15 as Front Gunner, and 6 as Bombardier.

In each capacity he has proved himself to be extremely competent and reliable. During these trips he has crashed twice and been hit in the back by shrapnel once. Despite these setbacks he has maintained a high standard of morale in himself which has set a fine example to the rest of the Squadron.

In concentrated flak, in bad weather and dangerous situations, he has at all times displayed outstanding coolness and complete disregard for danger, which, coupled with his accuracy at shooting has inspired the greatest confidence in his numerous captains….

Since becoming a Bombardier in a Halifax aircraft, this N.C.O. has shown the greatest enthusiasm and aptitude for his new task, which has largely been responsible for the excellent bombing and photography of the target area that his crew have obtained.‘

Having survived his first tour of 30 operations, Pony was (like all air crew) entitled to step down from further active service and he went on to spend some time as an instructor. However, he then volunteered to return to active duty and was commissioned as a Pilot Officer as a member of 100 Squadron. While flying with this squadron, he received a second award for bravery, this time the DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross). He was the only West Indian to hold both medals.

On the night of 17-18 August 1943, whilst flying with 100 Squadron, Pony took part in the famous Peenemunde raid. This was one of the biggest and most dangerous bombing raids ever carried out by the RAF. The target was the launch site and testing ground of V2 rockets then being developed by the Nazis, which in 1944 would start raining down on London with devastating consequences. British intelligence had discovered the site’s importance and the raid was carried out by moonlight (something which was always avoided because of the added risk to planes and crew) in order to assist with accuracy. The bombing resulted in a delay in the development of these weapons and the removal of the test facility further into German territory. The air crew casualty rate on this raid alone was enormous, and Pony was extremely fortunate to be alive at the end of the War, after taking part in a total of 50 bombing missions during his RAF career.

From 1954 to 1978 Pony Hynam was the Warden of the West Indian Students Centre at 1 Collingham Gardens, Earls Court, living in a flat on the top floor with his wife Doris, known as “Molly”. [I think that their flat is probably where our interview took place.] Under his able management, the Centre provided a very important meeting place for Caribbean and African people. Politicians from the West Indies came to speak at the Centre and influential organisations such as the West Indian Standing Conference and the Caribbean Artists Movement held their meetings under its roof.

Pony Hynam died in 1991, leaving his wife (who died in 2008) and two daughters.

Footnotes

[1] Squadron Leader Ulric Cross DSO DFC was the most senior ranking West Indian officer in the RAF in WW2. After the war he studied law and then had a career as an esteemed Judge in West and East Africa and in his homeland, Trinidad. From 1970 to 1973 he was Trinidadian High Commissioner here in Britain combining the post with Ambassador to Germany and France. He died on 4 October 2013, aged 96.

[2] Unfortunately Audrey Elcombe died before she found a publisher and her manuscript disappeared.

[3] David Fell (webmaster), https://www.northlincsweb.net/103Sqn/html/john_kennard_and_crew_103_sqn.html [accessed 09/10/2019]

Racism in Football and Yeovil’s 1st Black Player – Abdelhalim el-Kholti

A shameful piece of football history was made on Saturday 19th October 2019 when an FA Cup tie between Haringey Borough and Yeovil was abandoned after both teams walked off in protest at alleged racist abuse from a tiny minority of Yeovil fans directed at black players on the Haringey team.

Fair play to the Yeovil players for supporting the stand taken by Haringey. As the manager of Haringey, Tom Loizou, explained ‘Yeovil’s players and manager were different class. Their team tried to calm their supporters down, they tried their best and they supported us – they said “if you’re walking off we’re walking off with you”.’ Such solidarity between opposing teams is the silver lining in the otherwise dark cloud that engulfed the game at Coles Park that afternoon.

The incident reminded me of a sunny afternoon a year or so earlier when I interviewed Abdelhalim el-Kholti (Abdou), the first black player to represent Yeovil in a football league game. Abdou has more decency in his little finger than the racists who claim to support the club could muster between them. Here is the story of my chat with Abdou.

I am sitting in the Grateful Kitchen in Canary Wharf, London. Outside, the waters of the old dock are twinkling in the afternoon sun (difficult to imagine now that this was built to service the slave trade), inside, I am talking with the proprietor Abdelhalim el-Kholti (Abdou). My wife is chatting to Emily, Abdou’s charming wife, about things that only women can talk about, the shared experience of childbirth gives them a common ground that I am only too happy not to be part of. I am talking to Abdou about football, he was Yeovil’s first black player in the football league. While we talk Abdou and Emily’s young son, 18 month-old Sami, is playing at our feet (‘he is already kicking a ball,’ says Abdou proudly).

Abdou was born in Annemasse, France, in an area close to the Swiss border. His parents, both originally from Morocco, had settled in the area, his mother was a house worker and his father worked in a factory. As a boy, Abdou was mad about sport, any sport, by the age of eleven it was football that won the tussle for his affections. But when he told his teachers that he wanted to be a footballer they were very negative ‘you should be a plumber’ they told him. He played in local junior teams and then from the age of 16 or 17, semi-professionally, for a team across the border in Geneva. His first professional club was in his parents’ homeland, Raja Casablanca, in the top division. It was good experience for him: ‘the manager there was coach of the national under-21 team and he wanted to promote young players but, when he got sacked, somebody from the local town took charge of the team and wanted local guys. So, in April, I left and went back to France.’ This story shows the delicate thread by which an aspiring footballer’s career hangs.

Back in France and at a loose end, an uncle working in Bristol was able to help Abdou fix up a trial with Rovers. It seemed he might be offered a contract but once again fate intervened as Garry Thompson, the manager, was almost immediately sacked (he was only in the post for four months). That is the roundabout route that led Abdou to Yeovil. He wasn’t quite their first black player as Abdelaye Demba (who would go on to earn seven international caps with Mali) was already at the club. Demba made his debut on 17^th August 2002 when he became the first black player for Yeovil in any league. Abdou comments that ‘he only stayed a few months but scored some goals and was popular with the fans,’ but Demba left Yeovil at the end of the season leaving the way open for Abdou to become the first black player to appear for Yeovil in the Football League.

Abdou describes himself as a hard working left back or left sided midfielder. Not especially tigerish in the tackle he compensated by being quick, having good technique and ‘a good engine’ as they say. It was a good time to join Yeovil as they were having an outstanding season, playing good football and scoring goals for fun. Abdou’s first game was against Torquay and he scored twice. They gained promotion to the Football League for the first time in the club’s long history. Abdou played a full part, making a total of 36 appearances and scoring 3 goals, earning a champion’s medal in his first season in English football.

Following their elevation Abdou was offered a new contract and he appeared in Yeovil’s first ever League game, coming on as a second-half substitute in a 3-1 away win at Rochdale in August 2003. But he was hampered by needing to have a hernia operation and didn’t play many games during the first half of the season. Later he played more often and made a total of 26 appearances, helping Yeovil to a creditable 8^th place finish.

Injured towards the end of the 2003-4 season he needed to have a second hernia operation. His career at Yeovil never quite regained its momentum and it was time to move on. He spent 2004-5 with Cambridge (15 appearances) and 2006-7 with Chester, still in the league in those days, (22 appearances). Subsequently he played for a string of non-league clubs but, although he loved playing football, he knew he was never going to make the big time: ‘if you aren’t playing in the Premiership or Championship by the age of 23 or 24 then I don’t think it’s ever going to happen. It’s tough in the lower leagues. Yeovil played good football, on the ground, but not many teams do, it’s boom, boom, boom, long ball all the time. You get kicked a lot,’ he adds ruefully. ’The money isn’t great in the lower divisions and you need to think about how you are going to make a living after football.’ Abdou decided to set up business in the world of catering: ‘my mother was a good cook and it was something I’d worked at in France, you do what you know.’ He continues: ‘it’s tough going, the hours are long, most mornings I’m up at 5.30 to be here by 6. It’s very stressful, and sometimes you wonder if it’s worth it.’ One thing that is clear from our conversation is that Abdou is a very hard worker.

I asked him whether he had experienced much racism during his time in the game. He said that he had often felt a bit of an outsider. As someone who doesn’t drink, the culture at many clubs was difficult for him. At Yeovil, for instance, ‘I was there to play football, not to go out socialising. After training I just wanted to go home, eat good food, rest and look after myself. When I went out I felt I was cheating.’ He says there was ‘banter’ and that sometimes, because of the language barrier, it was difficult to tell how serious it was. But ‘you can’t let it affect you.’ He continues ‘one manager told me that if I didn’t play well he would send me back to Azerbaijan but he was smiling as he said it. Banter? Sometimes it’s hard to know.’

Abdou is fortunate to have the support of a young woman who he has known for about ten or eleven years. He met Emily ‘through a friend’ and they have been together through many ups and downs, marrying in 2015, in her native Ireland. The strength of their relationship is there for all to see. Her parents were fine (‘very open minded’), his less so, his mother in particular thought he should marry ‘a nice Moroccan girl.’ But the presence of a grandchild can have a powerful healing influence in situations like this and it seems that everyone is happy now.

You don’t often read a love story in a book or article about football but this is one. Abdou and Emily are a lovely couple, obviously devoted to each other. They are living proof that Bill Shankly got it wrong all those years ago. Not only is football not more important than life and death as he claimed, it is clear that there are many things in life far more important than football, no matter how it may sometimes feel at five o’clock on a Saturday afternoon.

In October 2019, more than sixteen years after Abdou became the club’s first black player, Yeovil found themselves in the headlines for the wrong reasons. The chairman of Haringey Borough summed up when he said ‘racism is in society but that doesn’t mean we have to accept it. It doesn’t matter if you’re a little club or England, what we both did is how all the game needs to respond.’

Being for the benefit of Mr Kite

Here at Historycal Roots we often say that Black History is all around us, we just need to know where to look.

Bill Hern was wandering around the Victoria and Albert Museum last week, he writes that he came across a display of old posters from the entertainment industry. One was advertising a circus in 1843. There was no commentary attached to it, it was simply an interesting old poster. Yet if we delve slightly more deeply, we will learn about a black circus owner and even make an unlikely link between him, his circus and a Beatles’ record from 1967.

Most people of my age can remember the very first LP they bought. Younger readers may not know what an LP is (it is an acronym for Long Player as in long-playing record) and in this age of digital streaming, some may not even know what a record is! The first LP I purchased was in 1967 and cost all of 32 shillings and 6 pence (about £1.63). It was called Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band by a group called The Beatles. Yes, bands were called groups in those days. The album cover (below) became iconic.

What has this got to do with Black History you may be wondering? You might hazard a guess that it must be connected to the black boxer in the silk dressing gown on the left hand side of the cover. The boxer is former World Heavyweight Champion Sonny Liston but this story isn’t about him.

Let us go further back to February 1843 and Rochdale, Lancashire. Pablo Fanque’s famous Circus Royal is in town. Posters like the one below are displayed everywhere.

The local people are eagerly awaiting sight of the celebrated horse Zanthus and Mr Kite himself appearing on the tight rope. Mr Henderson the celebrated somerset thrower, wire dancer, vaulter and horse rider would carry out his extraordinary trampoline-leaps over men and horses, through hoops, over garters and lastly through a hogshead of real fire. What a talented and versatile man he seems to have been.

The owner of the circus, Pablo Fanque, was, as can be seen from his photograph below, a man of colour.

Born as William Darby in 1810 in Norwich, Norfolk, he changed his name as a young adult.

So successful was Pablo that he went on to become the first non-white owner of a circus. His circus was one of the most famous in Britain for over 30 years during a time that was considered the golden age of the circus. He is an important figure in British Black History particularly given that he achieved all that he did only a few years after slavery had been abolished.

You might now be thinking ‘yes, we now know the link to Black History but where do The Beatles fit into this story?’

One hundred and twenty three years after the Rochdale extravaganza the Beatle, John Lennon, saw the poster in an antique shop in Sevenoaks. It obviously made a big impression as he bought it.

Not only did he buy it, he also used it to compose a song. The last track on side one of the Sergeant Pepper LP (yes, kids, you played both sides of an LP, turning it over half way through) is called Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite and the words of the song drew heavily on the poster advertising Pablo Fanque’s Circus. Apart from the song’s title, the lyrics refer to many of the acts on the poster including Mr Kite and the Hendersons although Zanthus becomes ‘Henry the Horse’ presumably because it scans better. The song also mentions the throwing of somersets, trampolines and a ‘hogshead of real fire’. Pablo himself also gets a mention.

Pablo Fanque was a highly skilled horseman both in terms of training and riding. He was also a successful business man becoming the owner of a major circus. He had many celebrity friends including the boxer Jem Mace, indeed he may have learned some tricks of the trade from his pugilist friend. In Manchester in March 1852 Pablo found a man called Ratcliffe sticking posters over adverts for the circus. When Goodwin refused to desist Pablo beat him with a stick. A passer-by named Goodwin interceded. Pablo threw down the stick and resorted to using his fists giving Goodwin ‘a very beautiful pair of black eyes’ according to the Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser. Pablo had to appear before the Borough Court but after much toing and froing, the bill-sticker Ratcliffe agreed to accept one sovereign from Pablo and the case was dropped.

Pablo died in 1871 and is buried in what was once Woodhouse Lane Cemetery in Leeds. He rests alongside his first wife Susannah Darby who died in 1848 in Leeds when the building in which the circus was performing collapsed, crushing her to death.

So, there you have it, an important figure in British Black History and his link with The Beatles almost 100 years after his death.

A gravestone for Sarah Bonetta Forbes-Davies

Bill Hern writes: Just over 12 months ago we gave an update on Sarah Bonetta Forbes-Davies, the African Princess who was treated as a goddaughter by Queen Victoria and is buried in the British Cemetery in Funchal, Madeira.

We won’t repeat Sarah’s amazing story again here, you can read it elsewhere on the site (just use the ‘search’ function) but we do have welcome and exciting news to convey.

One hundred and thirty nine years after her death, Sarah finally has a gravestone!

Much of the thanks for this great news is due to a lady called Taiwo Olaiya who raised almost £1,000 in sponsorship when she completed the Hackney half-marathon in 2017. The rest of the cost was met by the people of Madeira via The Diocese in Europe (Church of England).

After learning of this most welcome and overdue development I went to see the caretaker of the Cemetery and asked if I could see Sarah’s burial record. He took me to the interior of the Chapel and unlocked the door of a huge safe. Taking a ledger from the safe we leafed through the records until we came to August 1880. There we saw the entry for Sarah. She is shown as the wife of I P L Davies of Lagos, West Africa. She died on 15 August aged 37 and was buried on the following day as was normal in those days. This of course meant that she almost certainly had no friends or members of her family at her funeral. We know for certain that her eldest daughter, Victoria, was not there as Queen Victoria noted in her diary: ‘saw poor Victoria Davies, my black godchild who learnt this morning of the death of her dear mother.’

After 139 years visitors to the British Cemetery will now be able to see that what was previously shown simply as Plot 206 is the resting place of a Princess – and not before time! Well done to Taiwo and the people of Madeira.