This name is on Holy Trinity war memorial, Clapham CommonJames F. Broughton (This is a tentative identification and requires more research. The panel at Holy Trinity, Clapham Common gives this name as James F. Broughton. Possibly this was how Frederick James Broughton was known to his friends and family; or possibly this was a mistake. The information on this page relates to Frederick James Broughton.) Service no. C/3379 Lance Corporal, King's Royal Rifle Corps, 17th Battalion Killed in action on 11 June 1916, aged 21 CWGC: "Son of Mrs. Eleanor Broughton, of 22, Chalmers St., Battersea, London." Born in Farnham, Hampshire; enlisted in Lambeth; lived in Battersea Remembered at Le Touret Military Cemetery, Richebourg-L'Avoue, Pas de Calais, France See www.samanthamarshall.co.uk Image © Samantha J. Marshall
Information from the censuses The 1911 census shows that the Broughton family were living at 5 Holm Terrace North, Holmwood, Surrey. Broughton's parents, Frederick Broughton, 42, a "muck miner" working in the building trade, and Eleanor Broughton (nee Wynne), 45, had three rooms, which they shared with their four children: Elizabeth Broughton (b 1894), 17, a domestic servant, born in Farnham, Surrey Ellen Edith Broughton (b 1897), 14, a domestic servant, born in Aldershot, Hampshire Laura Alice Broughton (b 1900), 11, born in Aldershot, Hampshire Frederick Broughton (b 1896), 15, born in Aldershot, Hampshire. The 1911 census also includes and entry for a Frederick James Broughton, then aged 14, who was visiting the household of William James Davis, a 26-year-old grocer's assistant living at 11e Victoria Dwellings, Battersea Park Road, London. Whether he was entered twice in error is not clear.
At the time of the 1901 census, Broughton, aged 5, and his sister Ellen, 3, appear to have been residents at Farnham Hartley Wintney District School, in Crondall, Hampshire, where they were described as paupers. Their mother, Eleanor, was with her youngest daughter, Laura, in Farnham Union Workhouse in Farnham, Surrey.
Information from British Army Service Records 1914-1918
Address: 49 Silverthorne Road, London SW
Age: 19 years, 5 months
Occupation: Jeweller
Height: 5 feet 6 inches
Weight: 128 pounds
Chest: 38 inches + 3 half inches expansion
Physical development: "good"
NOK: Mrs. Eleanor Broughton, 57 Portslade Road, Battersea
Form W.5080: Father - Frederick Broughton "I know nothing about him"
Sisters: Elizabeth, Nellie, Laura
Effects: 2 discs, 2 letters, 4 bugle badges, 2 cloth badges, 2 sheets bugle music, 1 steel reflector, 1 tobacco pounch, 1 pipe, 7 photos, 3 greetings cards
Letter 26 December 1916
Mrs Broughton writes to say that she wrote to you in November concerning her son's effects also acknowledging those that were sent on to her and enquiring about certain articles which were in her son's possession at the time he met his death especially his watch and I must say I am greatly surprised at receiving no anwers as my boy was no conscript and one would think you would pay a little more attention to my simple request after losing my only son. Kindly answer as soon as possible concerning my dear son's effects. Yours truly, E. Broughton
Information from Samantha Marshall
Eleanor Broughton (nee Wynne)
In 1901 Eleanor Wynne was with her youngest daughter Laura resident in Farnham Union Workhouse in Farnham, Surrey. She is described as married. Later, she worked as a laundress. At the time of the 1911 census she lived at 5 Holm Terrace North, Holmwood, Surrey, and between 1919 and 1922 at 22 Chalmers Street, Battersea. This street was demolished between 1968 and 1989 (it is approximately where Heathbrook Park is now). Eleanor died in 1948.
At the time of his death, it appears Fred was dating a Miss Knight of Burgh Heath, Surrey, England as he wrote out the following poem (original version by Tom Skeyhill) and dedicated it to her:
I'VE A LITTLE WET HOME IN A TRENCH
I've a little wet home in a trench
Where the rainstorms continually drench
The sky overhead
Clay or mud for a bed
And a stone that we use for a bench.
Bully beef and hard biscuits we chew
It seems years since we tasted a stew
Shells crackle and scare
Yet no place can compare
With my little wet home in the trench.
Our friends in the trench oe'r the way
Seem to know that we've come here to stay
They shoot and they shout
But they can't get us out
Though there's no dirty trick they won't play.
They rushed us a few nights ago
But we don't like intruders and so
Some left us quite sore
Others left evermore
Near my little wet home in the trench.
So hurray for the mud and the clay
Which leads to der Tag, that's the day
When we enter Berlin
That old city of sin
And make the fat Berlinders pay.
Yes we think of the cold, slush and stench
As we lay with the Belgians and French
But there be shed of fear
Redder stuff than a tear
In my little wet home in the trench.
More information at http://wc.rootsweb.ancestry.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?op=GET&db=sjm2002&id=I00094