Herbert Mundin - His Early Years (1898 -
1918)
Groves was born over it in 1901 and Mundin's mother lived there for around ten years, until she witnessed a tragic event that would change her life and lead to the birth of Herbert.
She was born Jane Lewis in Greenfield, North Wales on May 11th, 1861 and was the daughter of Thomas and Eliza Lewis (née Jones). By 1881 Jane was recorded as living at Sutton in St. Helens, Lancashire along with her parents and four siblings. Thomas was a copper roller and during the nineteenth century, many Welsh people moved to Sutton to work in the local Copper Works and Rolling Mill factory.
On New Year's Day, 1884 at Christ Church in Eccleston, St.Helens, Jane married 24-year-old hairdresser Thomas Groves. The couple lived at his barbershop in Duke Street and in 1885, Jane gave birth to a daughter called Clara. However, Thomas suffered from mental health problems and had previously received treatment at Rainhill Asylum.
At 2.10am on November 14th, 1895, Groves woke in what the St.Helens Reporter described as "a maniacal state" and his wife Jane "fled in terror" from him and ran for the police. Upon their arrival, he threw a gold watch and furniture at them from his window, so Sergeant Strong used a hatchet to break down the bedroom door. This prompted Groves to leap through his window, breaking an arm and damaging his spine. He died five days later from his injuries. You can find out more of this story here and read the newspaper reports here.
Herbert's father William
Mundin on his motorised bicycle pictured in
1921
Shortly after her husband's
demise, widow Jane Groves and ten-year-old daughter Clara
initially returned to Sutton before moving to 44 Mill
Street, close to the barber's shop. She didn't remain
single for long, however, as on September 18th, 1897, at
the age of 36, she became 50-year-old
William Mundin’s fourth wife.
On 21st August 1898, Jane gave birth to a son named Herbert Thomas. William Mundin is thought to have had as many as nineteen children with his four wives with many of them dying at birth or in infancy. However, Herbert was his only child with Jane.
William Mundin is only listed in one edition of the electoral register (1898-99) as residing in Windleshaw Road. He also seemingly owned or resided at properties in College Street, North Road, Oxford Street and Hardshaw Street, but is not listed at any of these addresses in successive registers. The family almost certainly left St.Helens within months of Herbert being born, moving to St.Albans in Hertfordshire where they lived at St.Helens Villa, Paxton Road.
Windleshaw Road in St.Helens
where Herbert had been born
c.1910
It seems that William and
Jane named their house after the town where they first
met and where their son Herbert was born. William was
said to have become the first probation officer in the
country and he rode his motorised bicycle around the
Hertfordshire countryside until well into his seventies.
In David Niven's second book, 'Bring On the Empty Horses', published in 1975, the actor described Herbert's war-time service. He referred to him as a "great entertainer of legendary conviviality", and wrote of him being encased on ship in an uncomfortable cork life-jacket:
Towards the end of his naval service, Herbert had performed as part of a concert party and had clearly loved the experience. Although engineering and radio had its appeal for young Herbert, he had a dream to be a comedy actor and soon after the end of the Great War, his ambition would be realised.Herbert Mundin grew to loathe that life-jacket with a passion, but, this hatred notwithstanding, for four years, day and night, he was trapped inside it. On November 11, 1918, in the middle of the North Sea he was called on deck with the rest of the crew and after triple rum rations had been issued, the Captain announced that the War was over. In the midst of the general excitement, the cheering, the back-slapping and the sobbing, Herbert Mundin quietly looked down at his detested life-jacket, his prison for four years, then he left the group and very deliberately undid its canvas straps one by one. Next he slid the loathsome garment over his head and approached the rail, smiling secretly to himself, and savouring the delicious moment. Holding it in both hands, with the grip and narrowed eyes of a strangler he looked it right in the eye. 'Fuck You!' he said quietly and flung it into the cold, grey northern waters. The life-jacket sank like a rock.
Next Part: The Stage Years (1919 - 1930)
and Derek Mundin with contributions from Peter Metcalfe, Jill McManus and Philip G. Cerny