JEREMIAH CORBEN

ALEXANDER CORBEN Our father was born Jan. 18, 1869 at 4 Manner St.; part of the Festival Hall now stands on this site. At the bottom of the street which went straight in to the Thames were erected stout wooden posts. At times of danger from flooding all the men & boys had to rush along with baulks of timber to slot in the posts to hold back the river - not always successful. Our grandfather was the usual stern Victorian parent, but was illiterate. He made arrangements for his sons to be taught the three R's by a schoolmaster for 1 pound weekly. Then in the 1870s the School Board for London built Addington Street School, right next door to our mother's home. She left her school for 'Young Ladies', and with our father and many others, took advantage of free education. According to one aunt, that was when our father started to chase after our mother. They spent a lot of time hanging about the stage door of 'Gattis' watching the pros come and go. They knew all the Music Hall songs & ballads. My sister and I were brought up on them. The words were not always correct as our father preferred his own versions; not always polite.  The Gattis Music Hall on Westminster Bridge Road, Lambeth

When he was 13, Alexander left school. He had been taught by his older brothers to fight so that he could stand up for himself but was considered by the family not strong enough to follow the tradition of being a stonemason. He tried various jobs, one of which was to collect and deliver top hats for ironing and repairs. Finally his father paid 5 pounds for him to be apprenticed to a harness-maker; we still have the document.

Alexander's Apprenticeship Documents

After he was married towards the end of the century, the demand for hand sewn leather work declined and the motor car was gaining popularity. So he got a job at W.H. Smith & Sons, (work hard & starve), packing newspapers, magazines, etc. seven nights a week for 27/6. Our mother had £1. The rent was 6/6 and 1/- for spending. After a time WHS made other arrangements for Saturday night packing of Sunday papers so our father had a night off. He and his family had a hard life but I think they were happy; four sisters who were in service, father and brothers in work, except for one terrible time when our father was about 9 years old. The law courts, in the Strand were being built & the men asked for an extra halfpenny an hour. This was not forthcoming so they went on strike. The building contractors hired Scottish labourers who returned to Scotland when they heard they were to break a strike. Then some Germans moved in and after the strike was settled several of them who stayed on had nasty accidents. Our father said that they would have starved if his mother's relations at Honiton had not supplied them with plenty of potatoes and other vegetables, and his sisters helped with small amounts of money. He was very quick tempered and always ready for a fight; our mother was always being told, "Hold my jacket Kate", but he liked a joke too. In the 1960's, when one of my sisters was working in a house at Beckenham she found that the old grandfather, ten years younger than our father, had worked with him for many years and had a fund of stories about the jokes he played to break up the monotony of their job and they had all sorts of names for the railway stations. Penge was the 'Holy City' because of all the religious books, etc. they had to send there.

His main recreation and interest was rowing (sculling). We had for many years two beautiful oil lamps that he had won as prizes, and he hardly ever missed seeing a Boat Race. As children we were rather frightened of him. He was so often irritable, but when I was older I realised what a hard time he had had. He never praised us, afraid of making us conceited but if anyone complimented him on our good behaviour he always gave the credit to our mother by saying, "What do I see of my children, work all day, their mother teaches them manners."

Public transport fares were cheap but our father like many of his generation liked walking. On some Sunday mornings we were ready in our best clothes, our boots highly polished and with strict instructions to "pick your feet up", we were taken for a route march. Over Westminster Bridge, along the embankment up the steps and across Waterloo Bridge. After we moved to the Elephant & Castle, we went over Black Friars Bridge, and up Ludgate Hill where we were told of the unusual names of the lanes and courts round about. However, we always finished up at the York Hotel in the 'Ole in the Wall' where our father sent us home and joined his pals for a few drinks. We were often offered money by his friends but seldom allowed to accept it, much to my annoyance.  

1903-1908

Before my parents, my two sisters and I moved to the Elephant and Castle, we lived for several years in the top flat of 46 Pearman St., Lambeth. Our mother's stepfather, a widower, occupied the middle floor. Never grandfather to us but always our 'Old Boy'*, so devoted to all of us. The ground floor tenant was a Mr. Mason, a quiet man who walked with a limp. He was the caretaker for the Wesleyan Chapel in the Waterloo Road near to the Union Jack Club. Our father always referred to him as the Cornish man, which puzzled me considerably.  When he moved out, Mr. & Mrs. Connor and Katie, six months my senior, moved in. Mr. C. was a huge man, a ganger on the roads and a big bully. Mrs. C. was happy-go-lucky, always giving me and my sisters halfpennies for sweets, which our mother said we were to refuse, but all we heard was Mrs. Connor's usual, "Never say no to nothing, you take all you can get."  

 Our mother, two years younger than our father, had a brother and sister much older. They left home at an early age because of disputes with their mother, who I feel was a very hard person. They lost touch with the brother but saw the sister frequently. When our brother was six years old her father, a shunter on Waterloo Station was killed by a train, accidental death, and no compensation in those days. Until our grandmother married Old Boy they must have had a hard time. They worked as domestics at Lambeth Palace, our mother doing dusting, etc. They also collected cut-out garments from a nearby factory to machine at home, very poorly paid. However when our grandmother and Old Boy married, our mother had a happier life. She spent the holidays with Old Boy's brother and sister-in-law and their large family in a Tudor cottage at Wirley; a large garden there and beautiful country all round. When she left school she worked for a high-class dressmaking firm near Oxford Circus. Our father often waited about to walk home with her, or if there were funds they went to a Music Hall. They married in 1892 and lived at Battersea until our father started work at W.H. Smith, so they returned to Lambeth because of travelling. Our mother, busy as she was, looking after a family, taking in needlework to help out with expenses, always had plenty of time for her children. She was very intelligent and well read, had a lovely sense of humour and endless patience. She sang, & read to us, told us stories & often recited. I well remember 'I once had a beautiful doll dear', and 'The wind one day got up with a shout, Now for a frolic, now for a rout'. She was always pleased if we did well at school, but did not overpraise us. When Katie Connor was four she started at Waterloo Rd. School & I worried so that I finally, at 3 was allowed to go too and I cried all the morning for my mother. It was about this time that the LCC decided to dispense with slates so we were allowed to buy one for a halfpenny. We then practised our pot hooks and hangers on sheets of thick paper clipped to a stiff board. On Friday afternoons we were sometimes shown magic lantern slides as a special treat.  

* 'Old Boy' was Charles Frances Manderville who lived with Constance's grandmother Maria but it seems they never married.

Old Boy worked on Waterloo Station for the L & S W Railway as head signalman in the A Box. He was on duty most holidays and seldom had a whole Sunday or Christmas Day at home with us. On the occasions when he finished at midday, he always brought fruit or sweets for us as he came through the Cut. He was very particular about his appearance and when not in uniform was smartly dressed, with his gold watch and chain and signet ring with the letter M. inset in a green stone. He never wore a cap, but had several kinds of headgear, among them a bowler and a hard felt hat. He loved to sing the old country songs and liked us to perform. Our eldest sister was encouraged to recite, mostly dramatic poems of G.R. Sims, such as 'The Fireman's Wedding'. I have a gilt-edged copy of Nicholas Nickleby presented to her in 1908, her last year at school for Reading & Reciting and most of her prizes were awarded for the same subjects. The sweet shop in Tower Street displayed a large walking stick of peppermint rock to be given to the customer who in a given period collected the most sweet bags with the shop owners name stamped on. Old Boy was determined that we should win it and so we did. After carrying it home in triumph and gloating, it was broken up; some pieces for us and the remainder to other children in the street which disappointed me as I thought we should have had all of it.   

One Saturday afternoon as Old Boy was setting off to work, his way was barred by Connor, who as usual was drunk. He challenged Old Boy to a fight, (then in his sixties & no match for a drunken Irishman) so he said someone else would take him on and called up to our father who was in bed sleeping after a night's hard work. He was down two flights of stairs in a flash pulling on his trousers and braces, gave Connor one hefty punch and knocked him down. Then banged his head on the pavement until Old Boy begged him to stop before he killed him.  Mrs. Connor standing by was urging him on. So Old Boy went on his way, our father went back to bed and Mrs. Connor stood gloating over her prostrate husband. Our father had a terrible temper at times and we had to be very careful not to upset him.

Mr. Ward, an old friend of Old Boy sometimes came to tea with us. I was always told not to comment if he spilt his tea or dropped his food. He had been a signalman and had, through an error, caused a collision between two trains at Waterloo. There were no casualties but he was suspended and the shock of the accident upset his nerves so that his hands always shook.  He was a gentle old man. His son Fred was a steward on the Union Castle Lines to S. Africa. He often brought our mother an ostrich feather for a hat trimming; very cheap in S. Africa.  

Mrs. Chappin [Chopping] next door, top flat, took me on several occasions to Regent's Park to see the Van and Horse Parade; her husband drove a horse and cart so she was very interested. Mrs. Smith on the ground floor often passed round slices of cake or fruit buns to the children. Mr. Smith worked in the kitchen of a West-End Hotel, so I suppose that was some of his 'perks'.  

I well remember a fire breaking out in Grims Bldgs., slum property, in the Waterloo Road. We all stood in a shop in Tower Street to watch. There were few ambulances then and some of the injured were being taken away on costers' barrows or prams to St. Thomas's Hospital for treatment. It was quite terrifying, flames shooting out and people screaming and moaning.  

My sister and I attended Christ Church Sunday School, and when I was seven I signed the pledge and went with them on Wednesday nights to the Band of Hope. Some of the speakers were a bit dreary, but one old chap always pleased the boys. He had a case with test tubes, showing the effect of alcohol on our food etc. The boys loved handling them, but the girls mostly found them revolting and smelly. The one who was a favourite with all of us was a Mr. Field. A jovial hearty man who ran a small advertising business. He would come along with a box of chalks and start drawing on the blackboard. There would be all the Band of Hope children in a castle with St. George at the drawbridge keeping out the Dragon, (the Demon Drink), and then he would give us a pleasant little talk. We never knew what the drawing would be until he reversed the blackboard. At the annual prize giving, an elderly lady, Miss Williams came to do the presentations. She always brought a little velvet bag containing threepenny pieces; one for each child who had brought along a new member, providing that person had attended regularly for eight weeks. Otherwise, I think there would have been an influx of newcomers a week before the prize giving. On one occasion, one of the speakers persuaded one of the boys to recite a short temperance poem. As a reward he asked him whether he would like a penny stamp or a likeness of the King in bronze. When he said the latter he gave him a penny with Edward VII on it. What a catch!

Some of the neighbour's children had ringworms, no doubt carried home by their fathers who worked with horses. One of my sisters and I caught the infection, much to our mother's annoyance. We had our heads shaved and attended Waterloo Hospital where we were issued with some vile ointment which our mother rubbed into our scalps, night and morning, until our heads felt as if on fire. We wore white linen caps, and had to keep away from our eldest sister who had a lovely thick plait of brown hair. She had to sleep on a makeshift bed on our horsehair couch in another room. Our mother had been making flannel shirts for our father and Old Boy so we had yards of selvedge which we made into a rope. This was passed from the two of us to the solitary one on the couch and we gave messages with a series of tugs. But one night, our side tugged too hard and our sister slid to the floor with all the makeshift bedding on top. We had a good scolding and had to stop that game. However, our mother was complimented by the hospital Doctor for curing us in six weeks; evidently a record in those days. We could have had XRay treatment but there was a risk of baldness resulting. When our hair grew again my golden curls had gone for ever and I had straight brown hair but my sister's was just as before.  

In 1907, Old Boy retired from the railway after nearly 50 years of service. He disposed of his furniture, gave up his flat and went home to Witley to live with his nephew and sister-in-law.  He was very popular with his fellow workers and loved to show his leaving presents. I well remember a silver-topped walking-stick and umbrella to match, a gold mounted umbrella, cuff links, a soft leather tobacco pouch, and a case containing two pipes which I doubt if he ever smoked them. We missed him very much and he too missed us and found country life tedious after the bustle of Waterloo Station. After a few months, he wrote to our mother begging her to find a larger flat so that he could be with us. That is why in 1908, we moved to Rockingham Street where we were rather overcrowded but no worse off than many other families. Old Boy was a great help to our mother doing odd jobs and had his weekly trip to Waterloo Stn. for his very meagre pension. He was one of the first to qualify for Lloyd Georges Old Age pension of 5/- weekly. He lived happily with all of us, quite active, until one Friday morning getting ready to go for his pension he died of a heart attack in April 1915.