Revisiting the mystery of Maude's missing son

As mentioned before, there is a census record that places Maude Alice Ritchie, my great-grandmother, at Cleveland House in London's prestigious St James Square in 1911. Maude was a cook in domestic service at the time. The household was a small one, comprising George and Lucy Murray, their 18-year-old son Eric and 3 female servants. But there was no sign of David, her 9-year-old son, my grandfather.

This wasn't exactly surprising since servants who lived in a household did not generally have their children living with them. So, where was he? You may recall that I speculated about David possibly being at boarding-school, sponsored by some rich benefactor. But the mystery was solved when Judy Lester, the professional genealogist I hired to find Grandad's birth certificate, discovered David living with Maude's sister Emily and her husband William in St John's Wood.

This made perfect sense in light of the fact that Maude's husband, David Scott Ritchie Sr, had been admitted to the London County Asylum 2 years earlier. Obviously, Maude had needed to work to earn a living. Emily, who was 8 years older than Maude with children of her own, was in a position to take David in and give him a normal childhood. William, for his part, was a taxi driver which presumably meant he could afford to have his nephew staying for an extended period.

We can assume, I think, that the new living arrangement began in 1909 when David's father was admitted to the asylum. David himself would have been 7 at the time. William and Emily had 5 children, although only Alice, Ivy and Richard were still living at home. David and Ivey were the same age and could attend the same school. Interestingly, David's surname is given as "Ritche" in the census yet his relationship to the head of the house is shown as "son".

Whether this was some sort of adoption arrangement or not, it allowed Maude to earn a living and gave David a secure and stable home life. Emily and William Smith surely deserve some recognition for what they did. Why, then, didn't Grandad ever talk about it? Surely the experience of living with an aunt and uncle for several years was worth sharing, if only to honour the people who took him in? Was he so ashamed of the circumstances that made it necessary that he blotted out the memory? Were that the case, it would make the whole story very sad.

Photo credit: "Pre-war kitchen" by EllenM1

.