Today’s guest blog is by Henry Holborn, on behalf of ‘WW1 Enemy Aliens in the North East’, a project that looks at the lives of minority ethnic communities in the North East during the First World War.
Henry was a former History student at Newcastle University.
The project is supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund. If you would like to get involved please contact Northern Cultural Projects, ncp.cic@gmail.com.
The Enemy Aliens files held at Northumberland Archives paint a gloomy picture of life in our area during World War One. ‘Enemy’ aliens faced increasing surveillance and harsh recrimination from the authorities, but even ‘friendly’ aliens were viewed with suspicion. The files highlight official anxieties and the lengths they were prepared to go to in order to allay them.
Belgian nationals either living or visiting the region were closely monitored, despite the huge outpouring of public sympathy at the start of the war. Nearly 250,000 escaped from ‘Gallant Little Belgium’ seeking refuge here.The Birtley Belgians were a prime example of the complex issues facing ‘friendly’ Aliens. An agreement between the Armstrong munitions factory and Belgian officials saw 6000 refugees, most of them conscripted Belgian soldiers, set to work producing munitions.
Their freedom was strictly limited. The gates to the settlement were guarded and access was tightly regulated: only the occasional Saturday excursion to Newcastle provided any kind of break. A jaunt for which they had to have special permission – the files are full of letters to the police requesting a dispensation under the Alien Restrictions Act.
They must have hoped for a warm welcome. Instead they found themselves living in confinement in an atmosphere of general ambivalence or even hostility.
Etienne Sommers, a Belgian clockmaker from Ghent informed the Police of his stay at Whitley Bay. He had moved there from Goole but was under close surveillance by the Blyth Police. They wrote a detailed report about why he visited the district and how he spent his time there. He was constantly in the company of local friends – the Lumney family – yet was still watched over closely.
Other cases were treated more leniently. In June 1915, Charles Bothamley, a Belgian soldier on leave asked permission to go and study Hadrians Wall – he had been a classics student before the war. The Police accepted his request without hesitation.
Reverend Wishart of Lowick wrote to the police asking that a Belgian family by the name of Von Buggenhondt could move closer to Berwick. The father of the family had found work there, but was still lodging in Lowick, incurring high costs. However, before permission was granted the Reverend sent a further letter to police stating that the man had ‘gone on the drink’, so he would no longer be responsible for him.
Whether or not alcoholism was induced by the stress of temporary work and endless travel is a matter of speculation.
Another file highlights the complexities of national identity; the difficulty of sifting ‘friend’ from ‘foe’. Lazar Ivonaff Boshansky was a Bulgarian employed at Palmers Shipyard in Jarrow. He had come to Britain in 1904 (aged 15) under supervision of a man who owned a cycle repair shop.
The police report tells us that the man who accompanied him to Britain treated Lazar poorly; he received meagre pay and slept on a workshop bench. Lazar received support from a sympathetic Mr Carr (under-manager of New Delaval colliery), who became his guardian and found him employment at the colliery. After the pit closed in the early stages of the war, he was employed at Elswick Works and finally at Palmers. Blyth police reported on 23rd October 1915 of his presence in the area.
Only two weeks earlier, on 14th October 1915, Bulgaria declared war on Serbia, joining the Central Powers. Bulgarians were now to be treated as enemy aliens. For some reason Lazar went to live in Leeds. He soon put in a request to return to the North East were he had more friends and connections: he needed to find work. His hand-written letter to the Northumberland Constabulary on January 1st 1917 states:
‘Sir,
I respectfully ask if you would grant me permission to take up residence in New Deleval, Blyth. I cannot get employment here and can in New Deleval as I was employed and resided there for a period of 10 years previous to the outbreak of war. I am in possession of an identity book, I am a Bulgarian subject but have been left the country since boyhood and am 27 years of age. I am well known by your superintendent at Blyth and other influential gentlemen resident there. Hoping you will give my request your kind consideration,
I am sir,
Yours obediently,
Lazar Ivanoff Boshansky’
The letter has a real sense of urgency about it: the hopelessness of losing community, employment, and freedom of movement stand out. The following day, he learnt the Police had rejected his request to return.
Further issues arose surrounding mistaken identities, where people’s status was often ambiguous. For example, Philip Smith who arrived at Blyth Harbour 29/8/1915 was ‘supposed to be a naturalized Austrian’. Sunderland police stated he had arrived from Austria 1873 and became naturalized British subject in 1898 while living in Manchester after marrying a British woman. The couple then moved to Sunderland. Upon being stopped, he produced a certificate proving his British subject status. However, the issuing policeman had died since the document’s issue. Further evidence was required from authorities in Sunderland
On the 2/9/1915 another letter was sent by Blyth police. Smith was subsequently prevented from sailing, and consequently became registered by Sunderland police as an enemy alien. This led to effective house arrest and prevention of travel. No freedom was granted until a copy of his naturalization certificate could be obtained from the Home Office. It is unknown what became of Philip, but his restriction would have severely limited his capacity to work, provide basic amenities, or travel for leisure. This reveals the extent authorities could take in subjugating even those with assumed legal status as British subjects.
There are all too many stories like this one in the files. Ordinary people struggling to survive in the midst of a war fought over Empires, subdued by surveillance, and treated with suspicion within a society they knew as their home.
