Born in Upton Road in Oxton in 1904, Philip Toosey was educated at Birkenhead School then Gresham’s School in Norfolk, later taking up a position at Baring Brothers Merchant Bank in Liverpool. At his boss’s instigation, he joined the Territorial Army and was then mobilised at the outbreak of World War II, seeing action in Belgium and later being evacuated from Dunkirk. In 1941, he was sent out to the Far East with his men and fought with them to defend Singapore. When it looked likely that the island would be lost to the enemy, he was offered the chance to be evacuated, but refused, insisting that he stay with his men.

He was held captive by the Japanese from 1941 in the prisoner of war camp at Tha Maa Kham (Tamarkan) in Thailand until August 1945, where, as Lieutenant Colonel, he was the senior allied officer in charge of the allied troops.

Philip Toosey in 1942

People believed his story was accurately portrayed by Sir Alec Guinness in Bridge Over The River Kwai, but the Oscar-winning film outraged many of the former prisoners because unlike the fictional Colonel Nicholson in the film, Toosey did not collaborate with his Japanese captors. Instead he gave the appearance of compliance while taking what steps he could to slow down or sabotage the bridge-building, including collecting white ants to undermine the wooden structures and ensuring concrete mixes were badly made.

The only letter safely received by his wife during his time in captivity expressed his complete determination to do his duty by looking after his men as best he could. And so he did, taking vigorous measures to maintain standards of hygiene; negotiating with the Japanese for concessions; and – critically and most dangerously – organising the smuggling of medicines and food.

After the war, Toosey continued in the TA, achieving promotion to Brigadier. He also returned to Barings, spending time in South America as an ambassador for the business while he adjusted to life after captivity. But he did not forget his obligation to the men he had served with. In 1947 he established a network, the Far Eastern Prisoners of War Federation, to enable sufferers all over Britain to meet up, attend lectures and so on. He also developed close ties with the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, with which he worked towards finding treatments for ex-prisoners of war who’d returned with recurring, often debilitating, tropical diseases. He was appointed president in 1960s and during his lifetime, helped raise millions to further the School’s work.

Repatriation Memorial, Pier Head, Liverpool

He became High Sheriff of Lancashire and was knighted in 1974. After his death on 22 December 1975, his ashes were buried in Landican Cemetery on the Wirral. His full story is told in The Colonel of Tamarkan: Philip Toosey and the Bridge on the River Kwai, by writer and historian Julie Summers, also his granddaughter.

A Repatriation Memorial was dedicated to all Far Eastern prisoners of war and civilian internees (1941- 1945) at the Pier Head in Liverpool in 2011. Money for the plaque was raised by the Researching the Far Eastern Prisoners of War History group.

Louise McTigue is a freelance writer and researcher, writing on behalf of Sarsfield Memorials.

“The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropist”

17 April 1870 – 3 February 1911

Robert Tressell the author of the famous book, The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropists, was born Robert Croker in Ireland, an illegitimate child whose father nonetheless acknowledged him. Robert later changed his name to Noonan, his mother’s maiden name.

Robert Noonan, or Tressell as he was later known

In 1888, he emigrated to Cape Town in South Africa where he earned a living as a painter and decorator. He married and his wife gave birth to a daughter, Kathleen. However, finding out that his wife had had a series of affairs, he divorced her and took custody of their child in 1897. They moved to Johannesburg and Robert became actively involved with the trades unions and politics. Around the time of the Second Boer War, Robert decided to relocate the family to England. Initially, life was good. Kathleen attended private schools and Robert found time to develop an interest in aviation, even designing and building a model airship that he hoped the War Office would be interested in. However, they rejected his proposal. He turned again to politics, joining the Social Democratic Federation.

After a dispute with his employer, he lost his job in 1907 and his health began to deteriorate. The recession and his ill health made it difficult to find work and he began to write to keep his daughter and himself out of the workhouse. His writing was heavily influenced by his experiences of the relationship between the employer and the worker and his socialist beliefs. He adopted the pen name Tressell (after one of the tools of his trade, the painter’s trestle table) to avoid getting blacklisted for his political views.

The resulting book was rejected by three publishers and Robert was on the verge of burning it in his despair. Luckily, his daughter Kathleen saved it and would later fight to get it published after his death. He was so disillusioned with life in Britain by this time that he decided to emigrate with Kathleen to Canada. He left her with her aunt in Hastings while he travelled to Liverpool to earn money for their passage, but no sooner had he arrived than his condition worsened. He was admitted to the Royal Liverpool Infirmary in November 1910 and died of pulmonary tuberculosis on 3 Feb 1911, aged just 40 years.

Robert Noonan, Blue Plaque

By then in extreme poverty, Robert was buried in unmarked paupers’ grave in Liverpool Parochial Cemetery, later known as Walton Park Cemetery, along with 12 other bodies. The location of the grave was unknown until 1970, but is now marked by a memorial stone, paid for by subscription and sponsored by Liverpool and Hastings Trades Councils in 1977. In keeping with Robert’s beliefs, his name is recorded alongside his fellow paupers.

His book was finally published as a result of his daughter’s determination, although only in an abridged format until 1955. It has been credited with playing a role in Labour’s landslide victory in 1945 and is still hugely influential today.

Louise McTigue is a freelance writer and researcher, writing on behalf of Sarsfield Memorials.

St James Cemetery, nestling alongside Liverpool’s Anglican Cathedral, is a little haven of peace and tranquillity away from the urban bustle. But this oasis of calm hides a long history of life and death in the city. From the sixteenth century, the land was used as a stone quarry, providing sandstone for the growing town of Liverpool. By 1825, it had been mined to extinction – with no useful stone left, it formed only an ugly scar on the landscape. However, other parts of city were overcrowded: the cemetery at Low Hill, Everton, for example, was near-full and it was increasingly hard to find space to bury Liverpool’s dead.

St James Cemetery view from the South East

The corporation proposed a new cemetery on the site and raised £20,000 by public subscription. John Foster, a Liverpool architect and senior surveyor to the Corporation of Liverpool from 1824-34, was commissioned to design a cemetery in a similar style to the famous Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. He created a magnificent and dramatic space. Along the east wall, a series of ramps led to 101 catacombs cut into the rock face, while below, winding, tree-lined pathways crossed the burial ground. Looming above, to the north-west, was the Oratory, the cemetery’s chapel where funeral services were held, a Greek-style temple which is still standing today; and a house for the Minister, now long gone.

The cemetery site also featured Liverpool’s only natural running spring, which you can still find along the East wall. This was first discovered by quarrymen in 1773 and it was believed to be especially beneficial to take the waters for “loss of appetite, nervous disorders, lowness of spirit, headaches proceeding from crudities of the stomach, Ricketts and weak eyes.”

Huskisson Monument, St James Cemetery

Perhaps the most famous burial was that of William Huskisson, the MP we wrote about in October last year, who was the first person to be killed by a passenger train in 1830 during the official opening of the Liverpool to Manchester Railway. But the cemetery housed a mind-boggling 57,773 others. The rich were laid down in catacombs and vaults while the poor were buried in pits, covered only with a thin layer of soil before others were laid down on top of them. Kitty Wilkinson (whose story featured in last week’s blog), John Foster (the architect himself), Robert Cain, founder of Cain’s Brewery in Liverpool and Sir William Brown, the merchant banker who donated the money to build Liverpool Central Library were all buried here, amongst many other notable Liverpool citizens.

The last burial took place in July 1936 and there was little maintenance or security in the years that followed. Unsurprisingly, St James Cemetery degenerated, unloved and unwanted. Only in the late 1960s did the fortunes of the area shift for the better. Plans were laid out for a public garden and the vast majority of gravestones were moved.

The urban park now enjoys Grade I Historic Park status and is used by individuals seeking a quiet moment’s reflection as well as families and community groups. Many clues to the land’s former uses remain and it’s fascinating to wander round and look at the reminders of the thousands of lives that ended here.

Louise McTigue is a freelance writer and researcher, writing on behalf of Sarsfield Memorials.