The Busby family – Forest Gate missionaries to China

Thursday, 27 February 2025

Following on from articles Jane Skelding has written for this blog on the Canning Town Women’s Settlement (CTWS) story (E7 Now & Then: The Canning Town Women's Settlement: its workers and the women who wanted to help, E7 Now & Then: Rebecca Halley Cheetham (1852-1939) - first warden of Canning Town Women's Settlement and E7 Now & Then: The Canning Town Women's Settlement: its workers and the women who wanted to help), she now traces the missionary work of one of the settlement workers, Nora Busby (nee Thompson). 

Together with her husband, Forest Gate local Charles Busby, Nora worked as a missionary in China between the 1920s and 1950s. During their long mission in Northern China, they were interned by the Japanese until the end of the Second World War and then, on their return, continued to support the local work of the CTWS until their deaths.

When she died, the well-known Rebecca Cheetham, former warden of the CTWS, left an intriguing codicil in her will. Most of her estate - around £1600 - was bequeathed to her sister and family, but there were other small bequests, amongst which was £100 to “My dear friend Norah Mellor Busby of the London Mission Peking.” This small note prompted me to do further research, and a remarkable story unfolded, linking the CTWS, a local Forest Gate family, and Chinese missionary work.

Nora Busby 1922 Reproduced with permission from the Council for World Mission Archive, SOAS Library. Photograph reference C.W.M Missionary Portraits, Box 1 A-C

As other articles [E7 Now & Then: The Durning Hall story, E7 Now & Then: Forest Gate's role, in WW1 The Hammers battalion (1)] recounted, the Busby family were socially active Forest Gate residents and lived at 14 Sherrard Road at the time of the 1911 census. The family consisted of Charles Busby and his German wife Minnie; they had three sons, Charles, Wilfred, and William, and a daughter, Violet. 

14 Sherrard Road today
William was killed in the First World War [see epilogue at end of this article]. The other two brothers went on to work for the London Missionary Society (LMS), both spending significant periods in China, Charles as a minister and Wilfred as a doctor, becoming the director of a missionary hospital in Changchow near Amoy.

Much less is known about Charles’s wife, Nora, but in researching her story, it emerges that she was also significant in the local community. Nora Busby, or Nora Mellor Thompson, as she was christened, was born in Islington; her father was an Independent Minister from Hull.

Sometime after 1901, the family moved to Eastbourne, and upon her parents' death in 1912, Nora, now 29 and of independent means, first travelled to Calcutta and then back to Canning Town in London. There, she lived and worked for the Canning Town Women’s Settlement under Warden Rebecca Cheetham from November 1912 until August 1917.

As a settlement worker, Nora would have paid for her room and board at the settlement (around 18s-21s at the start of the war) and then volunteered her time in the various clubs and educational activities of the settlement work in the local community, learning about social work and the realities of life in the poorest parts of London. Nora is listed in the CTWS roster of settlement workers throughout the First World War until 1917 when she is recorded as a ‘leaver.’ There is no record of her activities after departing from CTWS until she reappears in the archive on a ship bound for Hong Kong, travelling to become a missionary in China. We pick up the trail again in 1921 when Charles Busby enters the narrative.

Charles Busby 1921 Reproduced with permission from the Council for World Mission Archive, SOAS Library. Photograph reference C.W.M Missionary Portraits, Box 1 A-C.

Nora and Charles's family life

Travel records suggest that Charles set off for Shanghai as a missionary in 1921, at that time unmarried. Nora likely departed around the same period, as the LMS archive at SOAS holds both of their photographs from 1920/1921; however, without personal papers, it remains impossible to ascertain whether they were acquainted before they departed for China. When they married in 1923 at the Union Church in Shanghai, both indicated their occupation as ‘Minister of Religion’.

Nora, who was 41 at the time of their marriage, was six years older than Charles, leaving room for speculation regarding whether they married for love, companionship, or convenience; perhaps their shared travel experiences and common cause drew them together. They never had any children of their own. 

However, there is evidence that they adopted two Chinese girls and supported their emigration abroad when the People’s Republic of China was established in 1949.

Nora and Charles (centre) with Lan Mei Bao Busby (front row left) in a group photo from 1926 of the Northern China Missionaries. Reproduced with permission from the Council for World Mission Archives, SOAS Library. Photo reference C.W.M. London Missionary Society China Photographs, file 88-96, 98-160.

Missionary life in China

The couple continued their missionary work together for the rest of their lives, working as a partnership in their ministry to the local Chinese community. They settled in Tientsin in Northern China, where they ran a mission church and worked in the community. Their settled work in the 1930s is recounted in Nora’s reports to the LMS. These annual reports describe their efforts, and it is striking that Nora continued her interest in women and children; in a similar vein to the work at the CTWS, she was fundraising and building better facilities for women and children. 

The couple’s ministry included sharing English traditions; Nora describes providing Christmas dinner for the local community whilst adapting by providing chopsticks for the turkey.

Their life during this period appears to have continued peacefully in the same area until the Japanese invasion of China in 1937. This era in Chinese history may be most familiar from the work of J G Ballard, who fictionalised his childhood internment in Empire of the Sun (1984).

Nora and Charles, along with other non-Chinese foreigners, found themselves rounded up in 1943 and sent to the Weihsein internment camp by the Japanese, where they would spend the next two years in notoriously difficult conditions. Stories from the camp and their memories are recorded by a memorialising website, Snapshots of Weihsien [http://www.weihsien-paintings.org/index.php].

Nora’s memories, recorded after their release by the London Mission in Peking on 4th August 1945, reflect a cheerfulness amidst the harsh reality. The internees were determined to organise life normally, particularly for the children, and maintain a positive atmosphere. She highlights the significance of arts and crafts, Christmas, and church parades in uplifting spirits, though one can sense the weariness of camp life.

She notes that the second Christmas “promised little” and states, "How well we have been served by the Scouts and Guides ( a family passion, see the epilogue, below) – what a desolate place it would have been without the laughter and games of children." In contrast, Charles adopts a more measured tone, revealing that he had been confined to bed with illness for two months. He placed greater emphasis on the educational and spiritual aspects of camp life. 

While he believed it had been successful, given the diversity of religions and nationalities, he also expressed frustration that the inmates were not more reflective regarding the upheaval of the war and its implications for faith, stating, “When so many idols of the marketplace are being overthrown, there is the possibility of deeper scepticism but also the opportunity for purer worship.“ (Impressions of Weihsien, August 7, 1945)

At the war's end in 1945, the Busbys were liberated along with the rest of the camp and returned to England. Their dedication to their work appeared undiminished, as the couple returned to Hong Kong in 1948, now aged 66 and 60 respectively, and continued their efforts in the post-war territories, even amid the advent of Chairman Mao and the communist People’s Republic of China (PRC).

While abroad, the couple maintained a home in Woodford, travelling back and forth to China. Charles’ last voyage to England from Hong Kong appears to have occurred in April 1951. The regime of the PRC was not necessarily a significant factor in the Busbys’ decision to return to the UK. 

The LMS society reports from this period suggest a positive outlook, noting that there is space for the missionaries to continue their work safely under the new regime. However, this may also have influenced their choice at a personal level.

Although busy, the couple never forgot their commitment to CTWS or Forest Gate, continuing their work with the organisation. When she commenced her Chair in 1952, aged 70, Nora wrote about her pride in the settlement's achievements.

“which in spite of numerous setbacks and obstacles, has continued to serve West Ham from the days of its beloved Founder, Rebecca H. Cheetham. As one who was closely connected with her work in days gone by, it has given me great pleasure during the past year to be associated once more with the work of the Settlement.”

Nora served as CTWS Chairman from 1952 to 1958, and both were on the executive committee. Charles continued on the committee until 1961, after Nora died in 1958.

Charles published Hitherto henceforth, 1856-1956. A short history of Forest Gate Congregational Church, Sebert Road, etc in 1956) and in the introduction showed his family's commitment to the church and area. He said the booklet was:

Dedicated to my parents: Charles E Busby, for 56 years a member, 40 years a deacon and 30 years secretary of this church to whose careful records much of this history is indebted (and) Minnie H E Busby, for 64 years a “Mother in Israel.

During her final years, Nora continued to work on projects. She became interested in the spiritual welfare of the elderly or convalescent women staying at Loughton Lodge (later ‘Fairmead’ at Theydon Bois) and conducted services and Bible classes each Sunday.

Conclusion…

It is known that the settlements trained missionaries, but we can rarely trace the work directly from the London settlement to missionary work abroad. Nora and Charles's lives exemplified the aims of the settlement movement in many ways. They showed how the work in the local community, rooted in Christianity, could spread and grow into a lifetime of dedication and service.

Epilogue – William Walter Busby

William Walter was the missionary Charles’ brother, and we have written of him in previous articles (see above) He was born in West Ham in 1891 and, after leaving school, went to Birkbeck College London and worked as an industrial chemist. He was instrumental in establishing the 2nd West Ham troop of scouts, when he was little more than a youth himself. It met until recently at Durning Hall and bears his name, “The Busby scouts”.

Capt William Walter Busby (Newham Scouts)

He enlisted as a 24-year-old to the recently established West Ham Pals (Hammers Battalion) in 1915 for service during World War 1 and was soon promoted to Captain. He was awarded the Military Cross for “conspicuous gallantry” on the first day of the Battle of the Somme (1 July 1916). He was killed in action four and a half months later on 13 November and is buried at Serre Road Cemetery No 2.

Serre Road Cemetery No 2

 

Albert Court, 89 Dames Rd, a history and research journey

Monday, 17 February 2025

Local historian, housing expert, and frequent contributor Peter Williams provides a fascinating account of this unusual building set back from the highway on Dames Road. In it, he references several sources that can aid people who wish to trace the history and backgrounds of their older properties.

89 Dames Road today - author's photo


The house at the southern end of today’s Dames Road predates the existence of that street, as perhaps its location, set back from the road, suggests. The street was initially called Leyton Road, but the name was changed to Dames Road in February 1887.

Listed buildings

89 Dames Road became a listed building in 1981, and its formal designation dates its construction to around 1840 – “Two storeys, four bays wide with asymmetrically placed entrance, all under a hipped and slated roof set back from road frontage” (www.historicengland.org.uk provides details of listed buildings).

Over the years, the building has been a substantial family home, business and catering premises and has housed six self-contained flats for almost 40 years.

Old maps

There may have been a house on the site before this time, as the 1777 Chapman and Andre map (www.map-of-essex.uk) shows a row of buildings on the approximate location of Albert Court, just below “The Lodge” on the map below. This could have been “Forest Lodge”, the alternative name for 89 Dames Road.

Chapman and Andre map - www,map-of-essex.uk

Newspaper archives

The earliest occupants we have been able to trace of 89 are the Ward family, who lived there in the 1860s. We know this through birth announcements in the Chelmsford Chronicle in May 1863 and January 1869 (address searches through the British Newspaper Archive—a subscription service can provide similar information – www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk).

Chelmsford Chronicle - 22 May 1863


Chelmsford Chronicle - 29 January 1869

Genealogy websites

This clue opens up access to the census (accessible via www.ancestry.com and www.findmypast.co.uk – both subscription services). According to birth records (also available via these two sites), the Ward family occupied the house as early as 1858 but did not appear in the 1861 census. However, they did a decade later.

1871 census

The head of the household was Humphrey Ward, a corn miller. This sounds strangely like a farming-related occupation, but Forest Gate was then a predominantly rural area. Humphrey had joined many in migrating from the countryside to what we today would consider a London suburb to seek his fortune. His wife, Hannah, was born in West London (source: birth records on Ancestry and Find My Past).

Google Books

Humphrey seems to have had business interests in the Anchor Flour Mills, Shad Thames, Wapping (source: contemporary records accessed through Google Books tab, a major source of information, as they have digitised business directories). He would appear to have been involved in local Liberal politics, as shown in this 1873 notice.

Essex Times - 12 April 1873

Inflation calculators

He died in 1872, aged just 52, leaving his estate to his wife (source: probate records, also on Ancestry and Find My Past) – it was around £500,000 at current prices (source: Bank of England inflation calculator -www.bankofengland.co.uk/monetary-policy/inflation/inflation-calculator).

The property’s furniture and effects were put up for sale in 1877. They included three milk cows (one in calf) and a horse and carriage. See below.

Stratford Express 24 March 1877

Local history websites

Humphrey’s widow, Hannah, moved to 65 Romford Road by the time of the 1881 census, and their former house, in what was still Leyton Road, was sold in 1886. (for a history of Dames Road itself, see www.e7-nowandthen.org/2016/04/the-street-where-you-live-4-dames-road.html – always a good source for local history!).

The sale notice, see below, describes the house as having stabling and a garden – about half an acre in total. Its proximity to Forest Gate station was a selling point. It contained “a large drawing room, dining and morning rooms, seven bed and dressing rooms, excellent offices and extensive stone basement”. It was a freehold property.

Chelmsford Chronicle - 26 March 1886

It can be time-consuming to trace the occupants of a building via censuses if you don’t have an occupier’s name, but sifting through census files by enumeration district can locate a house and its occupants.

The 1891 census shows the house occupied by Joseph Merritt, a dock foreman born in Bethnal Green, and his family. By 1901, he had progressed to become a grain merchant, a reminder of how crucial commercial trade was in the area; the Royal Docks were then the largest enclosed docks in the world, and London was the largest port at the height of the empire.

1901 census

They were a prosperous family, as adverts in the local papers in 1895 and 1899 show them advertising for servants.

Barking, East Ham & Ilford Advertiser 30 March 1895

Barking, East Ham & Ilford Advertiser 18 February 1899

Joseph died in 1906 and is buried in Manor Park's City of London cemetery (source: Ancestry and Find My Past). Fortunes could be made, and Joseph seems to have prospered, leaving almost £500,000 (in today’s terms) in his will (see probate and inflation calculation sources above).

Genealogy websites' fallibilities

Although census information can be invaluable during house history searches, it is not infallible, as the 1901 and 1911 censuses show. There is confusion about whether the Sparrow or Merritt family were the primary occupants – the former being the daughter and grandchildren of the latter. It takes scrutinising both documents to piece together the likely story. There can also be transcription problems with census documents when the enumerator’s handwritten records are misread by those administering the web sites, as is the case for this house in the 1911 census (see spelling of “Merritt” below).

Inaccurate transcription of 1911 census entry (Ancestry)

It would appear that one of Jospeh Merritt’s daughters, Mary Jane, had left the family home by the time of the 1891 census and married George Henry Sparrow. The 1901 census shows her living at 89 Dames Road with her children but no husband. It is unclear whether this was because of a family break-up.

Mary Jane and her children still lived on Dames Road at the following census, again minus her husband – she was not a widow, as this would have been recorded. He could have been absent on business or at sea – this is not recorded either.

Mary Jane’s mother, Jane, continued to live at the house and died the following year, leaving almost £750,000 in today’s terms. This presumably included the value of the house, which was put on the market three months after her death.

Probate entry, from Ancestry, 1912

Stratford Express 28 September 1912

By the time of the 1921 census, the property’s occupants were the Knight family. Father and son Alfred were described as ships’ caulkers who worked in shipbuilding to ensure the vessels were watertight. Alfred snr was born in Tidal Basin, Canning Town, and their son, Alfred John, seemed to have had a sideline as a musical impresario – see an advert from the Essex Times below.

1921 census entry - Ancestry

Essex Times 2 November 1918

          

Five years later, the house was up for sale again.

                          


Although the circumstances of the sale are unknown, the following advert in the Westminster Gazette suggests that all was not well with the family’s finances!

 
Westminster Gazette 5 May 1927

89 Dames Road was soon taken over by Hart and Holman, a catering firm, occupying the premises for the next fifty years.

West Ham and South Essex Mail, 24 July 1931

The Hart family lived there at the time of the 1939 Register (see: Ancestry and Find My Past), and the Holmans lived on Romford Road.

1939 Register - Ancestry

Many press announcements, articles, and adverts have testified to the use of 89 Dames hosting weddings, Sunday school events, and social gatherings in a large function hall, as indicated below.

The Stage - 20 November 1958

Council archives

Newham Council Archives has an extensive collection of images currently being catalogued and digitised in preparation for the opening of the council’s new Heritage Centre in 2026. They are currently located in the library on The Broadway in Stratford. Access is usually by appointment only, but the facility is currently closed, as they prepare for the relocation. Archives can be a valuable resource for people tracing the history of local buildings. Among Newham’s images are a number relating to 89 Dames Road.

Newham Archives

The house in the 1970s - Newham Archives

Planning department websites

Mr Holman of the catering firm died in the late 1970s, and although the business continued, within a few years, plans were made to convert 89 Dames Rad into six flats. Council planning department records (www.newham.gov.uk/planning)—both current and historical—are open for public inspection online and can provide vital clues about a building’s history and changes in use, shape, and function over a lengthy period.

Newham Planning website, www.Newham.gov.uk

Property sales websites

89 Dames Road remains the site of the six flats for which planning permission was given in the mid-1980s. One was last on the market five years ago for £355,000 (sites like www.rightmove.co.uk and www.zoopla.co.uk are invaluable in tracing recent house sales prices).

Footnote: You can read some of Peter’s other contributions to this blog here:

The oldest continuously occupied house in Forest Gate? - https://www.e7-nowandthen.org/2024/02/the-oldest-continuously-occupied-house.html

The Simpsons – Forest Gate’s jerry builders and slum landlords - https://www.e7-nowandthen.org/2024/05/the-simpsons-forest-gates-jerry.html

Donal Hunter House, Woodgrange Road:  https://www.e7-nowandthen.org/2018/01/donald-hunter-house-woodgrange-road.html

and updated here: https://www.e7-nowandthen.org/2024/01/woodgrange-road-developments.html

23 Earlham Grove – an insight into the local housing crisis - https://www.e7-nowandthen.org/2017/11/23-earlham-grove-insight-into-local.html

Forest Gate’s first £2m house? - https://www.e7-nowandthen.org/2015/11/forest-gates-first-2m-house-224-romford.html

 



Amanda lands in Forest Gate

Sunday, 2 February 2025

Local resident and author, Robert Nurden, tells the story of how his Chestnut Avenue House will soon be seen by millions on BBC1. 


I never thought when I bought my unremarkable terraced house in Chestnut Avenue, Forest Gate, in 1989, that one day a production company would choose it as a prime film location. But, much to my surprise, its diminutive hallway and traditional 19th century porch were just what Merman Productions needed for the new BBC1, six-part comedy series Amandaland, starring Lucy Punch as Amanda. It’s a spin-off of the cult drama Motherland, which starred Anna Maxwell Martin and Diane Morgan.

Philippa Dunne, left, during the filming of Amandaland at Robert Nurden's house, 67 Chestnut Avenue

Nothing grand about the start of my flirtation with the stars though: a flimsy flyer stuffed through the letterbox, asking home owners to let the cameras in for half a day. I contacted the location manager and he asked me to take some shots of my front door. I sent them off and he replied: “Just what we’re after. May I pop round tomorrow for a better gander?”

Martin approved. “We want to film a bedroom scene, too,” he said. “We’d double the fee, of course,” he added as an afterthought. I knew Dame Joanna Lumley (who plays Amanda’s insecure mother, Felicity) was in the cast for this series. But I quickly dismissed any disgraceful thoughts of her occupying my bed for a scene or two. 

Philippa Dunne, Lucy Punch and Joanna Lumley

My shameful and ridiculous notion turned into a mere academic red herring as Martin was on the hunt for a teenager’s bedroom, which mine clearly wasn’t. Still, the fee for two-and-a-half-hours’ filming in the porch turned out to be more than adequate.

There remained the issue of the overgrown privet hedge. I asked him if I should give it a clip before the cameras rolled. He made it abundantly clear that long and straggly was the look he was after. So, thankfully, I was able to leave it uncut.

I was told that in this eagerly awaited sequel to Motherland, Amanda, who is in the throes of a divorce, has downsized to Harlesden. But apparently producers thought that unsung Forest Gate looked more like Harlesden than Harlesden did. So, E7 it was. There’s no stopping our beloved Forest Gate these days.   

The first thing to happen on the day in question – 25 October – was the arrival of the art department (otherwise known as the props department), which consisted of two serious-looking chaps sporting neatly trimmed hipster beards. 

They deposited a brightly coloured football, a pair of football boots, red wellies, armfuls of coats, a frightening-looking plastic gun that made a lot of noise, a cricket bat and a tennis racquet both in the hall and on the front step of my humble abode. Clearly a sporty family. They also rigged up a pair of net curtains at the front window, something I’d always managed to do without until that point.


My gaff, for just one afternoon, was going to be lived in by one of the three stars of the show – Philippa Dunne (who plays the put-upon Anne), the kindest of the triumvirate of leading women. She is always lending a hand in one way or another. Apparently, in this series, she runs a voluntary maths class and a young lad was being dropped off by his dad for extra tuition. That was to be the scene.  

At 1.45pm two more men with a health and safety remit arrived to check the surroundings. The child actor had to be allotted two ‘safe’ locations for those times when he wasn’t filming and the men pinned notices on certain doors, warning adults not to enter. The boy’s father also attended as extra security.

The film crew were simultaneously using the interior of the big pink house in Avenue Road for another scene. This one featured Lucy Punch, who I caught a glimpse of munching a sandwich in between takes. 

I noticed that her long, blonde tresses were covered by a plastic bag in order to protect her from the rain. When the two locations were taken together, there must have been nigh on 60 people involved, inside and out.

About 2.30pm the crowds descended on number 67. Everyone was disarmingly polite. The director Holly Walsh apologised for taking over my house and asked if she could get me a cup of tea or a chair to sit on. I was content to watch from the pavement on the far side of Chestnut Avenue in order to get a panoramic view of proceedings. 

Orders were barked from inside the house, then down a chain of command through the porch and out into the street. It seemed to be running like clockwork. Except for the time when I mistakenly drifted into shot and was asked to move out of the way. And filming temporarily ceased when mothers and their kids from Godwin School drifted past on their way home, wondering what was going on.

The afternoon became cold and I asked if I could go back indoors. The cry went up: “stop filming – owner returning to house”. I have never seen my front room so full – cameras, monitors, black screens, reflectors, sound engineers, runners, security guards, people brandishing clapperboards, a producer, an assistant producer, a director and an assistant director. Holly Walsh – the Holly Walsh –was sitting directing in the armchair in which I usually sat watching Spurs tumble to yet another defeat on the box. And then there were the thrilling cries of “camera roll”, “action” and “cut”.

Meanwhile, my kitchen had turned into the make-up room. Actors were ranged in front of the table poring over their scripts as make-up artists tried to dab at their upturned faces with cotton pads. I offered Philippa a cup of tea. “Better not,” she replied. “Might spill it on my coat. By the way, you’ve got a lovely house. It has a special feel to it. Easily the nicest one we’ve been in.” Well, thank you, Philippa. I bet you say that to all the owners!

Then the front door bell started ringing – again and again. Shooting had started. On the doorstep Philippa said: “Welcome to the maths class.” The director told her she loved the way she’d said that. There was an animated conversation at the door between Philippa and the father of the student. 

After a brief contretemps, he turned and left, walking down the very short garden path. “For the love of God,” said Philippa under her breath. It was impossible to know if that was in the script or whether she was letting off some actorly steam. I look forward to seeing whether that sentence ends up on the cutting-room floor or whether it’ll be in the final version.

Once the director said: “I’d like you to look more annoyed.” That took a few more takes. And then there were the other re-takes. But the team was nearing the end. What I hadn’t known was that this was the very last afternoon of filming. The show was in the can. So, at the last cry of “cut”, director embraced actor and producer embraced deputy producer and everyone asserted that it had all been “wonderful”. It was a moment for the luvvies.

One by one, camera by camera, they walked out of the door. Holly thanked me and then there was a sudden and eerie silence. Martin turned up and apologised for my payment not having come through yet. A snarl-up in accounts, he said. He’d see to it. And, indeed, he did.

In addition, he promised to send a cleaner round on the Monday, despite me saying that the house was looking immaculate. “It’s something we always do,” he said. So, number 67 ended up looking cleaner than it had been before filming started.

There remained the outstanding issue of the hedge. There was no way out of it: it was time to get the shears out. Now that the creatives had packed up and gone, it was the only type of cutting I’d be experiencing for a while. 

 

Amandaland goes out on BBC1 at 9pm on 5 February.