eastlondonhistory.com

In September 1916, Britain was in the grip of the darkest days of the First World War.
The East End in particular was suffering, with Zeppelin air raids razing houses and factories to the ground. Meanwhile, the carnage of trench warfare in Europe was cutting a swathe through London’s youth.
With men being slaughtered by the million, one more death might have gone unremarked. But the sacrifice of boy sailor Jack Cornwell caught the imagination of the nation – and earned him a state funeral to rank with that of any monarch.
Jackie Cornwell was born in Leyton in January 1900. At 16, he would today have been finishing his GCSEs and thinking about college.
But in the Great War, 16 was old enough to go into battle. And, on the morning of June 16, 1916, Boy (1st Class) John Travers Cornwell found himself on the deck of HMS Chester, under the command of Captain Robert Lawson, joining the battle fleet at Scapa Flow.
As the Chester picked her way through the morning fog, disaster struck. She had run into a scouting group of German destroyers. The British ship opened fire but the battle was hopelessly one-sided.
Three of the Chester’s ten guns were knocked out in minutes, its crew lying dead or dying on deck. Despite sustaining terrible wounds, young Jack was the only member of his gun crew left alive.
The losses were terrible, with 34 dead and 42 wounded – mainly casualties of the bomb splinters strafing off the water and along the deck. Yet despite his injuries and the horror around him, Jack stood by his post.
After the battle, he was transferred to Grimsby Hospital, where his condition deteriorated.
Moments before he died, he called for the matron. “Give my mother my love,” he told her. “I know she is coming.”
Devotion to duty
His heroism was mentioned in dispatches by Vice-Admiral Sir David Beatty, who wrote: “A report from the commanding officer of the Chester gives a splendid instance of devotion to duty.
“Boy (1st Class) John Travers Cornwell was mortally wounded early in the action.
“He nevertheless remained standing alone at a most exposed post, quietly awaiting orders till the end of the action, with the gun crew dead and wounded all around him.
“His age was under 16 and a half years. I regret that he has since died, but I recommend his case for special recognition in justice to his memory.”
The admiral would never have guessed just how publicly Jack was to be remembered.
The dispatch appeared in the papers and, among all the millions of terrible deaths, Jack’s story touched the hearts of the British public.
More and more tales appeared in magazines and papers until, eventually, his mother bowed to public demand, had Jack’s body disinterred, and a ceremonial and public funeral was arranged.

Military honours
On a baking summer’s Saturday on July 29, 1916, Jack’s body was reinterred with full ceremony.
The band of the Naval Volunteer Reserve led a huge group of servicemen, themselves followed by the gun carriage which bore his coffin, covered with the Union flag.
At Manor Park cemetery, the coffin was reconsigned to the earth before thousands of hushed mourners.
A fusillade of gunfire marked the closing of the service and the band sounded the Last Post.
More honours were to follow. On September 15, Jack was recognised along with the other victims of Jutland, receiving a posthumous Victoria Cross.
And perhaps even more touching, September 21 was pronounced Jack Cornwell Day in all of Britain’s elementary schools.
These two honours throw the story into stark relief.
Though he died as a man and received the honours of a soldier, at 16 years of age, Jackie Cornwell was little more than a boy.

For further reading, see “The East End Then And Now”, After the Battle Publications,
ISBN 0 900913 991.

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 30th, 2008 at 6:20 pm and is filed under London at war. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.