Found: Letters from the ancestor about whom nobody spoke

It is a rare thing to read the words of an ancestor who lived in a lunatic asylum. I honestly never expected to have this privilege. Yet the casebook which Judy Lester of Kerrywood Research accessed for me contains 3 letters written by David Scott Ritchie himself to the staff at the London County Asylum, giving me insight into both the kind of person he was and his state of mind.

I think I will deal with the letters individually over the next few days. That will give me time and space to fill in background detail and reflect on what they mean for my family. For now, I am going to pause and share my personal feelings, in order to capture the significance of the letters and mark the beginning of a new phase of genealogical research.

I am struck, first, by the realisation that these letters represent the private and most pressing concerns of a man whom I never knew. Had he lived a normal life, he would probably have featured large in my mother's stories, having worked as a footman in Mayfair and a butler in Piccadilly. I might even have met him myself, as he was still alive when I turned 4. Yet no-one ever talked about him, so no-one who is alive today can say what he was like. Now, for the first time, I have a chance to get to know him through his own words and form an impression of him apart from the facts of his occupation and illness.

Second, I feel awed that the letters even exist. As my sister wrote on Facebook, "I'm grateful for the UK's remarkable online archive of ancestry records. It is fascinating to find that documents from the early nineteenth century are available, and the more you look, the more you find." We live in a throw-away culture where letters and formal applications are generally discarded soon after they've been read. Perhaps my great-grandfather's letters survived because they related to a medical case, but even the fact that archivists have taken the trouble to catalogue them and make them available for viewing is extraordinary.

Third, i am moved by a sense of connection with my great-grandfather. It's as if he is communicating with me about his situation, making me aware of things the rest of the family chose to hide. No doubt, they ddid this with the best of intentions, wishing to shield the children from any shame or alarm that such knowledge might cause. I take a different view. Given the increase in understanding around mental illness and its treatment, I believe much can be gained by owning psychological problems in the family.

In fact, had I known that David Ritchie Sr had been committed to a lunatic asylum, I might have initiated the investigation, but I didn't. I wasn't even interested in family history before I started my application for UK citizenship. So, despite the fact that I wasn't looking for him, he made himself known. And now my own experience with and interest in matters of the mind is being called on to tell his story.

This feels like more than just a quest to solve a family mystery for the sake of curiosity. It feels like a mission to bring about truth and reconciliation. Using the letters as a starting point, I am embarking on a journey towards healing in my family and beyond.

Photo credit: "Ancient Wonder" by Lou.

How I found photographs of David Scott Ritchie Sr

The record relating to my great-grandfather's admission to the London County Asylum provided much more information than I had hoped to gather as a beginner genealogist. It also confirmed the fact that this was indeed my relative, as it referenced a 7-year-old son and a sister-in-law whom I already knew to be a member of my great-grandmother's family. The question that still troubled me, though, was whether David Ritchie Sr was my Grandad's biological father. Since my mother always joked about her father having royal blood, and since I love a good mystery, the next obvious step was to find a photograph that would settle the matter once and for all.

I asked professional genealogist Judy Lester to help me with this. She replied, saying, "The best chance of a photograph for David Scott Ritchie senior would be the Patient Casebook for Hanwell. This is closed to public access under the 100-year privacy rule. Although the required information is older than that, the volume contains other entries written within the last 100 years. So I cannot access it for you."

She added, however, that the London Metropolitan Archives staff will sometimes access "closed" files and will extract and send a transcript or copy of any data found. This is a "discretionary" service. Nevertheless, she wrote to ask them what their policy would be in this case, and whether they would charge their standard research fee.

To our mutual surprise, the LMA said the casebook for David Ritchie had been wrongly catalogued as Closed to Access, and it should be open for inspection. Judy said she would try to order it up and see if there was a photograph or any medical case-notes that might be of interest.

Feeling hopeful, I asked Judy to go ahead and report on what the casebook contained. Her fee for this work was worth every cent. As previously mentioned, I am visually impaired and cannot read text from images. Judy very kindly describes what she finds and, in the case of documents, transcribes them for me. Her next email read as follows:

"Two photographs of David Scott Ritchie are attached. They are both head-and-shoulders, pasted into the case-book side-by-side. One was taken on 12 June 1909, a week after he was admitted. The other (better quality) was taken on 16 February 1911. The dates are written underneath.

"You will obviously want a family member to describe these to you and compare them with photos that you will have of your grandfather. To my eye, he looks young, timid and nervous in 1909, perhaps not surprisingly in view of the circumstances. By 1911 he looks noticeably older, perhaps more settled and more confident. He has a moustache and beard in both photos, much thicker in 1911.

"The medical notes in the case-book are extensive. They are a treasure-trove of information about his state of health and mind. I haven't done much more than glance at them, but I see that he was discharged to the care of his wife for a trial month, early in 1911. But he wasn't happy, felt that he needed to return to Hanwell, and did so before the month was out. The second photo will have been taken at that time."

No doubt, dear reader, you are itching to see the pictures, but you will have to wait. They are copyright protected and I need to obtain permission before I can publish them here. You will also have to wait to hear what my family thought of them. Was this man my blood relative or was he not? Be sure to read the next exciting instalment!

Photo credit: "London Metropolitan Archives. A day well spent here." by Andrea Vail.

Transforming documentary evidence into plausible family history

After my in-depth examination and presentation of the documents relating to David Ritchie's admission to the London County Asylum, I feel the need to meld the elements together into a proper story. In this, I must take some literary licence. There are still big gaps in my knowledge, especially with regard to my great-grandfather's medical diagnosis. What follows is, therefore, only a possible version of events, yet it helps bring history to life.

To recap, David Ritchie Sr, born in November 1873 in Tottenham, was the second son of William and Emma Eliza Ritchie. The census of 1891 found him living with his widowed mother and sister in the City of London and working as a junior clerk. A year later, at the age of 18, he suffered an attack of insanity and switched his occupation to footman.

For 10 years, he maintained a steady track record, eventually finding himself in the enviable position of working for the Viscount Francis Wheler Hood in Mayfair. There he met Alice Parker, whose Christian name was Maude. When it emerged that Maude was pregnant, the couple moved from Chesterfield Street to a boarding-house in Albert Street. They married in February 1902 and their son David was born on the last day of March.

As soon as it was possible for Maude to wean David, she arranged for him to go and live with her sister Emily, who had a son of the same age. Maude and David Ritchie Sr returned to work as before, in aristocratic houses. For example, David worked at 10 Cornwall Gardens, South Kensington from May 1904 till September 1907. Then came an opportunity for both him and Maude to work for Sir Charles Murray at Cleveland House in St James Square, Piccadilly.

David and Maude finished up at their respective jobs a month ahead of the new appointment. Emily and William Smith kindly invited them to stay at their house so they could spend time with their son. Maude readily agreed, anticipating a welcome holiday. But the house was full of noisy children and, given his mental fragility, David Ritchie felt overwhelmed. He couldn't wait to relocate to the much more sedate and orderly atmosphere of Cleveland House.

Things did not improve though. The last couple of weeks at the Smith household had exposed him to childhood illnesses, leaving him suffering from deafness. Then his son fell ill and was transferred to the fever hospital. The stress of meeting a new employer, trying to learn the foreign habits of the rest of the Murray family, and worrying about his son, combined with his own deteriorating health, lowered his defences against insanity. His speech turned to rambling, he sang and laughed at inappropriate times, and he claimed to have been sent to elevate the human race. When he refused to be silenced and resisted efforts to control him, it became clear to Maude that she needed help.

Lacking the means to take him to a doctor herself, she turned to the Parish of St Marylebone. They accepted him as a pauper into the workhouse. He was examined by a medical practitioner and found to be of unsound mind. Feeling helpless, Maude agreed that he should be transferred to the London County Asylum in Hanwell for special care and treatment. Thus began the long separation; her working for the Murrays in St James Square, her son David living with her sister in ST John's Wood, and her husband living as a lunatic behind high walls in Hanwell.

Personally, I don't understand why Maude didn't live with one of her other single sisters, work as a daily woman and raise her son herself, but she must have had her reasons.

Photo credit: "Old doll with blue dress" by Lisa Ann Yount.

Facts about David Ritchie Sr's whereabouts prior to his diagnosis of insanity

The final batch of documents relating to the admission of my great-grandfather to the London County Asylum in Hanwell contains illuminating details about his life in the years prior to his breakdown in June 1909. The documents are actually a series of procedural letters and forms aimed at establishing whether his expenses should be covered by the Parish of St Marylebone or the Parish of Kensington. Yet they provide valuable information to flesh out the story as we know it so far.

There is a letter to Miss Louisa Parker, the eldest sister of David's wife Maude, who is living in New Cavendish Street. In it, the Settlement Officer of St Marylebone asks for information pertaining to David Ritchie's stay at 10 Cornwall Gardens, South Kensington. Louisa Parker provides the following answers: Firstly, Mr David S Ritchie went to live at that address in May 1904, and stayed there till 30 September 1907. His stay there was continuous, as opposed to broken periods. While at Cornwall Gardens, he had nothing whatever to do with any hospital, infirmary or institution of any sort.

A second letter from the Settlement Officer is addressed to Miss Clara Philpott, 2 Portman Square. Miss Philpott gives basically the same answers: David Ritchie stayed at 10 Cornwall Gardens, South Kensington, for 3 years and 6 months, and he left on 30 September 1907. His stay there was continuous. Not once while at Cornwall Gardens did he become an in-patient at a hospital, infirmary or any other institution.

There follows a page of notes summing up the findings of the Settlement Officer. Here are the pertinent facts:

For the week preceding his arrival at the Marylebone Workhouse, David Ritchie stayed at Cleveland House in St James Square. He was with his wife Maude, who was working at this address.

Before Cleveland House, David Ritchie stayed for a month at 41 Cockrin Street in St John's Wood. This was the home of Maude's sister Emily and her husband William Smith.

Tracking backwards in time, the notes indicate that, for the 11 months prior to his stay with the Smiths, David Ritchie stayed at 14 Clafaine Road, Canonbury. No further details are given about this location.

Before that 11-month stay, he was at 10 Cornwall Gardens, South Kensington. It appears that the head of this household may have been Sir Henry Bliss, because there is a note beside his name that says, "Gone. Abingdon, Oxford. No relief here." Maybe Miss Clara Philpott, who was applied to for information about his stay, was a servant who worked with him at this address. I do not know who she could be otherwise.

The upshot of all this investigation was a lengthy printed order from St Marylebone regarding "Lunatic Settlement, Maintenance and Care", signed in the presence of the police. This was, in the words of Judy Lester, "a formal order of removal from the Parish of ST Marylebone to the Parish of Kensington, and a request for Kensington to reimburse St Marylebone with all the expenses of getting David Scott Ritchie to the asylum, plus the costs of his ongoing care and maintenance while he remained there. This was because his parish of legal settlement had been adjudged as Kensington, on the basis of 3 continuous years residence at Cornwall Gardens [1904 to 1907]. Point of interest: The costs of care and maintenance at hanwell were being charged at 1 shilling 5 3/4 pence per day."

Image Description - Vintage European style key engraving from Six Semaines de vacances by Paul Poiré (1880). Original from the British Library. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.

Who will pay for the inmate's treatment?

One of the startling aspects of my great-grandfather's life is that he became a pauper, despite having a wife who was employed and a family of origin who were all respectable traders. I don't know how this came to be, and can only surmise that his insanity was too much for the family to bear. At any rate, the documents relating to the cost of David Ritchie Sr's admission to the London County Asylum make it clear that he was cared for by the parish.

As Judy Lester puts it, "St Marylebone investigated David Ritchie's place of legal settlement, in case they could pass the expenses of his removal and the costs of his ongoing care onto another parish. This included the need to establish his place of residence in previous years."

There is a page of scribbled notes which appear to have been made in the course of conversation. I imagine that someone must have questioned David Ritchie himself, as there was no-one else present who could furnish such personal details. The following is my interpretation of the rough notes, based on what I already know about the family's circumstances.

The patient's name is David Ritchie. He is 35 years old, a butler, and married. He belongs to the Church of England and is a member of a club. He was, until his recent breakdown, in service. He has a son named David, who is 7 years old and currently in the Hampstead Fever Hospital. Eighteen months ago he was living at Cornwall Gardens, Kensington, where he remained about 3 years altogether. He began working at a new place about a month ago, at which time he was troubled by deafness. He has a wife named Maude, who is a cook working at the same place as him. Her employer is Sir Charles Murray of Cleveland House, St James Square, Piccadilly. He has a sister-in-law named Mrs Emily Smith, who lives at 31 Cockrin Street. It is unclear whether he has any means.

As mentioned, I was able to decipher the meaning of the notes from what I've already learnt about David Ritchie's former life. To the person interviewing him, however, the story must have been difficult to follow. I see in my mind's eye a uniformed officer sitting at his desk, scratching his head, struggling to sift out the important facts from a long and rambling narrative. How grateful he must have been for the names and addresses already provided on the admission form.

he would gather the evidence he needed to establish which parish should carry the costs of David Ritchie's care and treatment, but more about that in my next post.

Photo credit: "Vintage Wallet — Interior" by J. Mark Bertrand.

A medical examination for the new inmate

Previous posts in this series about David Ritchie's admission to the London County Asylum have shown why he had to be admitted and how he got there. Here, I share the notes taken by the Medical Superintendent as to the state of his physical health. Once again, a big thanks to Judy Lester of Kerrywood Research for tracking down the records and sending them to me so I could include them in my blog. First, some background to set the scene. David Ritchie was a 35-year-old man, married, and a butler. He had a 7-year-old son, my grandfather, who was living with relatives in St John's Wood, presumably so that David and his wife Maude could both continue working.

David had suffered a previous attack of insanity when he was 18. That episode had lasted just a few days and was not treated. At that time, he was probably living with his widowed mother Emma Eliza Ritchie and 9-year-old sister Susan Elizabeth. This assumption is based on the fact that he was living with them in the 1891 census, taken a year earlier. Interestingly, David switched occupations from junior clerk to footman soon after that census was taken, suggesting that his health forced him to make the change. Nevertheless, he managed to rise to the position of butler and stay employed at Cleveland House in St James Square, so his condition certainly did not impair his normal functioning.

At least, not until June 1909, when he began displaying bizarre behaviour and had to be taken to the Marylebone Workhouse. After that, Dr Duncan Menzies pronounced him to be "of unsound mind and a proper person to be taken charge of and detained under care and treatment". He was then conveyed by the police to the asylum at Hanwell, where the Medical Superintendent examined him in preparation for formal admission.

Here is what the Superintendent noted:

1. As to cleanliness: Clean. 2. Bodily condition: Fair. 3. Positions and descriptions of any bruises, wounds, marks of injury, skin eruptions, sores, pain, tenderness, and any evidence of disease or disorder: Old vaccination marks, right arm. Faint bruise, left leg. Abrasion, left leg. Old scars, both knees. Sebacious cyst, forehead.

This is clearly not a sick or broken man. On the contrary, he has marks on his body which are consistent with work in a busy household full of dark corridors, narrow steps, heavy furniture and horses. If he looked anything like his son, my grandfather, he was also tall, big-boned, and strong. indeed he must have been because he survived the institution for an astonishing 57 years, until his death at the age of 92. Photo credit: "Some of Mike's wounds" by Ryan McFarland.

Taken charge of and detained under care and treatment

In my previous post, I began sharing some of the documents relating to David Ritchie Sr's admission to the London County Asylum in Hanwell. Here I present the next batch. In the words of Judy Lester who found the documents for me, "As you'd expect, under the provisions of the Lunacy Act (1890) there was a lot of paperwork connected with committal to an asylum. So there are many forms and notes."

One document lists the expenses incurred by the Relieving Officer in regard to the enquiry into David Ritchie Sr's state of mind. The Relieving Officer was the person at the workhouse who was in charge of deciding which residents were entitled to receive assistance, and exactly what form that should take. In this case, he was responsible for deciding whether David Ritchie should be admitted to the workhouse at all, and after establishing that he should not, he arranged for a Justice of the Peace [a policeman] to come and take him to the London County Asylum. The expenses were all incurred on 5 June 1909.

As you consider the list, I invite you to picture the scene. A cab draws up to the gates of the Marylebone Workhouse. Watery sunlight spills from the roof of the building and reflects off the vehicle's bonnet. A horse drawn cart clatters past, speeding up as it goes. From inside the cab, the keen-eyed passenger can't help noticing that the skinny woman holding the horse's reins has a decidedly guilty expression on her face, but before he can get distracted, he climbs out, reminds the driver to wait, and puts on his hat. Burnt porridge and wood fire smells seep from a high window, causing his nostrils to twitch as he looks around. Then he spots a pitiful-looking figure dressed in a worn-out coat with tails. Immediately, he calls out in an authoritative voice, instructing the inmate to bring someone with a key. At the same time he pulls out a sheaf of papers from the inside pocket of his jacket. It is time to meet and take charge of the lunatic within.

Now, here is the list of expenses, offered in my own words:

Two shillings for the hire of a cab to convey the Justice of the Peace from Duke Street to the workhouse, including waiting and return. Seven shillings 6 pence for the part-hire of a cab to remove David Ritchie to Hanwell asylum. One shilling 6 pence for the part-hire of a male attendant. Six shillings for expenses incurred by the Relieving officer with regard to filling in forms, waiting on the Justice of the Peace, etcetera. Seven pence for postage, etcetera [including 2 pence for correspondence with David Ritchie's wife Maude].

The above expenses came to 17 shillings 7 pence. In case you are not familiar with the old money used before the decimal system was introduced, bear in mind that there were 12 pence in a shilling and 20 shillings in a pound. Thus, the total amount incurred was nearly 1 pound.

Accompanying documents show that money was duly paid out to the Relieving Officer. These documents include an order from the Justice of the Peace to the Guardians of the Poor of the Parish of St Marylebone, directing them to reimburse the Relieving Officer the sum of 17 shillings and 7 pence. Also, receipts for payments made by the Relieving Officer to the Marylebone Workhouse, to cover the hire of the cab and a male attendant.

I share these details of expenses because they flesh out the journey my great-grandfather took on that fifth day of June 1909. What was for one man an entry into an unknown world of institutional food, padded rooms and locked wards was for others a routine day of driving, signing papers and issuing payments. History is surely full of contrasting perspectives.

Photo credit: "Great Britain 6 pence 1900" by Numismatic Coins & History.

Notes on David Ritchie's admission to the London County Asylum

The set of documents provided by Judy Lester relating to my great-grandfather's entry into the asylum at Hanwell are very illuminating. In this post, i will summarise the statements and facts which I find most interesting, omitting the parts relating to administrative procedure which don't really add to the story.

The original documents are held at the London Metropolitan Archives and form part of the collection from the St Marylebone Board of Guardians. They can be accessed online via Ancestry.com.

The first is an extract from the register of the Marylebone workhouse, dated 30 May 1909. It shows that David Richie entered the workhouse but the handwriting is so illegible that nothing can be gleaned from it. All I can say is that the information gathered relates to his age, religious persuasion, names of informant, from whence admitted, name of relieving officer, where sent in the house, date of admission and date of discharge.

The second document is the doctor's certificate I shared in my previous post. This is dated 1 June 1909. In it, Dr Duncan Menzies certifies that his patient is "of unsound mind and a proper person to be taken charge of and detained under care and treatment".

The third document is a permit for admission to an asylum, contained in a letter to the head of the Marylebone Workhouse. Originating from the Asylums Committee and dated 4 June 1909, it gives instructions on when and how the patient is to be removed from one institution to the other.

The fourth document is entitled "Order for reception of a pauper lunatic" and comes from a Justice of the Peace for the County of London. Addressed to the Superintendent of the London County Asylum, it contains the following statement:

I, Frank S Turner, having called to my assistance Dr Duncan Menzies of Dorset Square, London NW, a duly qualified medical practitioner, and being satisfied that David Ritchie, a butler, of Marylebone w/house, is in such circumstances as to require relief for his proper care and maintenance, and that the said David Ritchie is a person of unsound mind and a proper person to be taken charge of and detained under care and treatment, hereby direct you to receive the said David Ritchie as a patient into your asylum. Subjoined is a statement of particulars relating to the said David Ritchie.

Here are the particulars as given on the reception order:

Name of patient [with Christian name at length]: David Ritchie Sex and age: Male, 35 yrs Married, widowed or single: Married Rank, profession, or previous occupation [if any]: Butler Religious persuasion: Ch of Eng Residence at or immediately previous to date hereof: Cleveland House, Piccadilly Whether first attack: No Age on first attack: About 18 years, for about 3 days When and where previously under care and treatment as a person of unsound mind: Nowhere Duration of existing attack: Few days Supposed cause: Unknown Whether subject to epilepsy: No Whether suicidal: Yes Whether dangerous to others, and in what way: Whether any near relative has been afflicted with insanity: Not known Union to which lunacy is chargeable: St Marylebone Names, Christian names, and full postal addresses of one or more relatives of the patient: Wife, Maude [address given] Name of the person to whom notice of death to be sent, and full postal address: Sister-in-law, Mrs E Smith [address given]

The above order for reception concludes with a note by the relieving officer from the workhouse. It confirms that he removed David Ritchie to the London County Asylum on 5 June 1909 and deposited his clothing back at the workhouse.

Photo credit: "Chimney Pots" by Stephanie.

Medical certification under the Lunacy Act of 1890

The following extract from the certificate of the medical practitioner at the workhouse in the parish of St Marylebone makes for fascinating reading. I am indebted to Judy Lester of Kerrywood Research in London for her assistance in finding it for me.

If you are a descendant of David Scott Ritchie Sr and have not read my previous post entitled "What to do with insanity in the family", be sure to do so. Please also remember that what was known about mental illness in 1909 was scant compared to what is known today. Even if you or a member of your family should manifest exactly the same behaviours as described in the quoted report, the chances of being institutionalised are slim. If anything worries you, please consult a doctor or psychologist for an assessment.

With reference to the quote itself, the spelling and punctuation may not be exactly as Judy Lester transcribed it for me, due to the fact that I use screen-reading software which cannot access fine detail in all document formats.

Here is what the certificate of the medical practitioner says:

In the matter of David Ritchie of Marylebone w/house in the County of London, a butler, an alleged lunatic, I, the undersigned Duncan Menzies, do hereby certify as follows: 1. I am a person registered under the medical Act [1858] and I am in the actual practice of the medical profession. 2. On the first day of June 1909, at the w/house, St Marylebone, in the County of London, separately from any other practitioner, I personally examined the said David Ritchie and came to the conclusion that he is a person of unsound mind, and a proper person to be taken charge of and detained under care and treatment. 3. I formed this conclusion on the following grounds, viz, a. Facts indicating insanity observed by myself at the time of examination, viz, he laughs and sings aloud in bed, rambles and talks incoherently, has delusions, says he was born to elevate the human race, says his son and himself suffer from the same ailment at the same time. b. Facts communicated by others, viz, Walter WM Barnard [attendant Marylebone w/house] says patient tried to strangle himself yesterday and when interfered with became violent and had to be put in the padded room. He laughs and sings aloud and refuses his food at times. 4. The said David Ritchie appeared to me to be in a fit condition of bodily health to be removed to an asylum, hospital or licensed house. 5. I give this certificate, having first read the Section of the Act of Parliament printed below. Signed: Duncan Menzies, 40 Dorset Square, London NW. Dated the first day of June 1909. Extract from Section 317, Subsection 2, of the Lunacy Act [1890]: Any person who makes a wilful misstatement of any material fact in any medical or other certificate , or in any statement or report of bodily or mental condition under this Act, shall be guilty of a misdemeanour.

Photo credit: "Salvador Dali" by Hans Olofsson.

What to do with insanity in the family

My great-grandfather David Scott Ritchie Sr was committed to an asylum and lived there until he died at the age of 92. When I first learned of this fact I was mildly intrigued. Then I sobered up as realisation dawned. Assuming he is my biological relative, I carry some of his genes and so do my children.

I intend to share the doctor's report on this blog but, in doing so, I feel I should address the question of what it might mean to you if you are one of David Ritchie's descendants. If you want to find out more but are afraid of what you may discover, consider following these suggestions:

1. Acknowledge your fear

People who pretend they are unafraid of something expend energy trying to avoid ever coming into contact with it. Accept that you are afraid so that your subconscious mind can stop wasting valuable brainpower on self-deception and -diversion. Admit to feeling threatened and allow yourself to experience uncertainty and doubt.

2. Name what you are afraid of

Take time to identify what exactly makes you frightened. If it is losing your mind, being rejected by your loved ones, living in a psychiatric institution, never becoming all you could be,, or going down in history as a hopeless case, say so. By naming the thing you most fear, you take away its monster-in-the-dark quality and render it less scary.

3. Exercise curiosity

Once you have named your fear, it becomes possible to examine it more closely. You can access information from online articles, books and documentary films. If you are specifically worried about symptoms of mental illness, you can book an appointment with a doctor or psychologist to discuss your concerns. Talk to people who have been treated for various psychiatric conditions and find out how both their ailment and their treatment have affected their lives. Do whatever you can to increase your knowledge, since knowledge diminishes fear and helps you take informed action.

4. Adjust your personal narrative

With increased knowledge comes the need to update the story you tell yourself and others. For example, if you were in the habit of saying, "I'd rather not know" or "Innocence is bliss", it's time for a change. Try something like this instead: "There's a chance I may have inherited some form of mental illness but I'm not showing any symptoms. If symptoms should appear, I know where to get treatment. In the meantime, I'm grateful for my health." A story like this will replace anxiety and stress with a sense of general wellbeing and peace.

5. Share what you have discovered

The more you come to believe your new story, the more you will notice how fear and denial grip the minds of others. Having freed yourself from fear, you are now in a position to encourage them to follow the same path. Be patient and compassionate with family members who resist knowing the truth about their ancestor. If they persist in avoiding it to the point of delusion, violence or bizarre behaviour, seek professional medical assistance.

Photo credit: "Monsters under my bed" by Kamila Gornia.

Unexpected details about David Ritchie Sr's admission to the London County Asylum

I received a surprise email last week from Judy Lester of Kerrywood Research about my great-grandfather's admission into the asylum at Hanwell. Having become fascinated in the case from reading my blog, she sourced the 1909 admission record and wanted to share it with me at no charge. This is very generous of her.

The admission record is not, as I had imagined, just an entry in a hospital register. On the contrary, it comprises a whole series of letters and documents which detail David Ritchie's removal from the workhouse in Marylebone to the London County Asylum as well as his movements over the preceding years. I didn't think these sorts of documents even existed but they do, thanks to the National Archives and a very good public service administration system.

The information, however, is sensitive. It affects all direct relatives of David Scott Ritchie Sr, including his one living granddaughter, his four living great-grandchildren, his many great-great-grandchildren and all the living descendants of his brothers, William and Thomas Scott Ritchie. Facts of this nature can be disturbing, especially if they come out of the blue and without a framework in which to view them. I shall, therefore, present them over several days, along with some additional background information and suggestions for integrating new pieces of data with existing ideas about self-image and family identity.

What the admission record will show is that David Ritchie was deemed, at the age of 35, to be of unsound mind on the basis of some bizarre behaviours. Once an apparently sane man who was employed and married with a son, he ended up in an institution for the care of paupers. Questions arise about the condition from which he suffered and whether it is genetically transmitted. Also, what did he do that was so bad as to make his entire family abandon him? Are we to be afraid of his legacy or ashamed of it? Does knowing that he was a so-called lunatic open a Pandora's box of ugly possibilities which can never be chased back into the place of unknowing?

Personally, I don't find the information upsetting. What happened was consistent with the way people responded to mental illness at the time. The situation is very different today, thank goodness. As for how we should approach insanity in the family, I believe it can be viewed as an opportunity for improving our own lives. But more about that in my next post.

Photo credit: "Fire Escape" by Judith.

My DNA results are back!

I'm very excited to report that my DNA results came back from 23andMe last week. It was a busy week so I didn't get to examine them in much detail at the time. Now I'm digging into them and have high hopes for what they might yield in terms of family connections.

The 23andMe DNA test focuses quite extensively on health issues but I won't go into any of that. Of far more interest to readers of this blog is what the test reveals about my ancestry. In this post i will focus on what I've learnt about my connection to population groups around the world, and in future posts i will delve into my DNA relatives. At this point I scarcely know what the process of identifying DNA relatives entails so no promises about imminent genetic breakthroughs!

To recap the story thus far, my daughters bought me a DNA test kit for my birthday in January. While on holiday in England I supplied the requisite amount of saliva and sent off my sample. The sample made its way to the laboratory and was processed. Finally, I received an email containing a link to my results and all the detailed reports.

I learnt that my ancestry is 100% European, composed of the following:

59,4% British and Irish 18,1% French and German 3,2% Scandinavian

With reference to British and Irish ancestry, the evidence suggests that, in the last 200 years, my ancestors probably lived in greater London, greater Manchester, Lancashire, Merseyside, County Durham, Warwickshire, Derbyshire, Cornwall, North Yorkshire and Stoke-on-Trent. Guernsey and Ireland did not feature at all in terms of recent ancestry.

The French and German part of my ancestry relates to people descended from ancient Celtic and Germanic populations which spread from the Netherlands to Austria. My DNA test results suggest that, in the last 200 years, my ancestors were most likely to have lived in the Netherlands with Germany coming in as a "possible match". The researchers were unable to detect enough evidence of recent ancestry from Austria, Belgium, France, Luxembourg or Switzerland.

The portion of my ancestry connected to the Scandinavian countries of Norway, Sweden, Denmark and Iceland is relatively small. My DNA report from 23andMe was unable to provide a detailed breakdown of where my relatives may have lived in the last 200 years. I guess this is because findings are based on matches in the data base and there are presently no matches, or perhaps too few matches to say anything for certain.

As for the rest of my ancestry composition, I have apparently inherited 0,6% of my DNA from Spanish and Portuguese populations, 18,5% from "Broadly North-Western European" populations, and 0,2% from "Broadly Southern European" populations. These last 2 categories exist because DNA is common to several specific populations dotted across a large area, reflecting the migration of people groups way back in history. There is also the possibility, not stated in the report, that this blended DNA could be linkked to royal lineages since the royal families of Europe are known to have intermarried for centuries. I shall make enquiries and bring you the answer when I have it!

Photo credit: "Map of England, Undated" by Nathan Hughes Hamilton.

David Scott Ritchie Sr dies at Hanwell

The final record contained in the research report I received from Judy Lester was a death record for my great-grandfather David Scott Ritchie Sr. An image of the death certificate was included. After learning that I am visually impaired, Judy kindly transcribed it for me so I could access all the available details.

David Ritchie Sr died on 31 January 1967 at the age of 92. The cause of death is stated as bronchopneumonia, which isn't surprising because it was the middle of winter. The death certificate also states that he was suffering from senility. His death was first reported by a fellow inmate of the hospital and certified by somebody called GC Siegruhn MB. The name of the hospital registrar is also given on the certificate.

Surviving in a mental institution to the age of 92 must be something of an anomaly, I should think. David Ritchie Sr was admitted to the asylum at 35, which meant he spent an incredible 57 years of his life disconnected from the world. Two world wars passed him by. His son raised a family in South Africa and his granddaughters both married and had children. His wife of 65 years, Maude Alice Ritchie, probably predeceased him by several years.

Most astonishing to me is that this great-grandfather of mine was alive when I was born in 1963. I never even knew of his existence. Granted, I probably never thought to ask about him when I was growing up but that was because my parents never referred to any great-grandparents at all, either on my father's side or my mother's side. We just weren't a very connected family, or so I thought. it didn't occur to me that there was a skeleton in the cupboard. Obviously, someone at some point made a conscious decision to distance him- or herself from the lunatic in the asylum and so a deep silence fell around the man. I myself wouldn't have discovered the secret except that my sister and I needed to find a birth certificate for my grandfather in order to apply for UK citizenship.

It may be possible to learn more about my great-grandfather's life at St Bernard's Hospital. Although the formal medical case-book is closed to public access under the 100-year privacy rule because it includes entries made after 1918 I could perhaps find details relating to his admission in 1909. Certainly, his is an intriguing story which i feel compelled to investigate further.

Photo credit: "Old time doc" by Thad Zajdowicz.

Growing old at St Bernard's Hospital, Hanwell

The 1939 Identity Register for England and Wales was far-reaching. Among those people it enumerated were patients of mental hospitals. Thus we find my great-grandfather, David Scott Ritchie Sr listed as an inmate of St Bernard's Hospital, formerly the London County Asylum, in the month that England declared war on Germany.

The entry is straightforward. David S. Ritchie, born 1874, is married and worked as a butler before admission to the institution. The stated birth date, marital status and occupation tell us this is the right person. From here, we can fill out the picture with what we already know, and this is where it becomes both interesting and extremely sad.

David Ritchie Sr was admitted to the lunatic asylum in 1909. At the time of the 1939 Register, therefore, he has already been an inmate for 30 years. He has a wife named Maude who is 60 years old and temporarily out of work. it is possible that he has not seen her for years because of his mental illness. He has a son who is 37 years old and an electrical engineer heading up an overseas office of a big international company. This son may or may not know where he is or whether he is still alive. He has a daughter-in-law and two young granddaughters who, at the time of the 1939 Register, are holidaying in Dorset and visiting relatives in London. He has a brother, Thomas Scott Ritchie, who is still alive and living nearby, plus grown-up nephews and nieces, the children of his deceased older brother William, living in Canada. All these family connections could have provided meaningful relationships and yet he is alone and being looked after in a paupers' institution for the insane.

I can't help comparing attitudes towards the mentally ill in those days with attitudes today. Times have changed, to be sure, and much has to do with advances in treatment. if David Scott Ritchie Sr suffered from what we now call bipolar disorder, for example, his doctor would have diagnosed lunacy and ordered him to be locked up as a matter of course. Today the same symptoms can be managed with medication and those suffering from it can generally go on with their normal lives, pursuing professional careers and making valuable contributions to the world. Moreover, there isn't the same stigma attached to mental illness as there used to be. Whereas families were inclined to hide away their so-called "mad" relatives, nowadays we extend compassion, encouraging treatment and offering support to those who are afflicted.

Because of the way things were back in the first half of the 20th century, a diagnosis of insanity meant that my great-grandfather was cut off from the outside world. The First World War would have completely passed him by. The Second World War would affect him more personally as the hospital at Hanwell would take a couple of direct hits from German bombers in the Blitz, but even so, the deprivations, losses, hardships and movements to and fro as a result of fighting would probably touch him very little. Spending his days working in the garden, baking bread, doing handcrafts or playing cards, he would go through the war only dimly aware of the changes taking place beyond the hospital walls.

Photo credit: "The Bedroom [1889] by Vincent van Gogh," photographed by Rawpixel Ltd.

Finding Maude Alice Ritchie on the 1939 Register

Documents never cease to amaze me. The 1939 Identity Register taken at the end of September, just weeks after Britain declared war on Germany, is a veritable goldmine of family information, which is why I was so glad when Judy Lester did what I could not and traced Maude Alice Ritchie in that record.

To put this in context, Maude had been separated from her husband David Scott Ritchie Sr since 1909. Her son David, my grandfather, had been cared for by his aunt and uncle, the Smiths, so that she could work. She had been occupied as a cook in domestic service since at least 1911, the year of the census, and possibly many years before that. The First World War had taken place during her late thirties, and she had said goodbye to her son and his wife when they moved to Cape Town, around her 50th birthday. The outbreak of the Second World War and the 1939 Register happened when she was 60.

Thanks to the Register, I now know that Maude was living in a multi-occupancy house at 167 Fernhead Road, Paddington in the first month of the war. From descriptions of Fernhead Road on the internet [bearing in mind I can't read a map[, I gather it runs from Harrow Road in what was then North Paddington through Shirland Road and Fordingley Road. Tall 19th-century houses characterise the area's architecture, nowadays mostly converted into flats. The area is now called Maida Hill and there is a daily market held in the piazza at the intersection between Harrow and Fernhead Roads. Incidentally, the house at number 91 Fernhead Road was the childhood home of the British comedian Norman Wisdom, although he would have been 24 when the register was taken and probably living elsewhere by then.

Maude's neighbours were middle-aged and elderly folk like herself. William and Emily Burge were in their late fifties, he a master builder and she doing "unpaid domestic duties" at home. Edward and Beatrice Winyard were in their late forties, he a porter at a medical institution and she a housewife involved in the preparation of food. The Taylors were a widow and her son, Sarah aged 77 and Stuart aged 39. Stuart was unmarried and a shopkeeper at a grocery store. Maude had no-one living with her and was temporarily without a job. Her entry on the register relating to occupation says "Cook when employed".

This, then, is where my grandfather and his family would have visited her when they travelled from Cape Town to England in the summer of 1939. It is hard to picture my mother at age 4 ascending the stairs of this house full of strangers. I know nothing about Maude's personality, whether she would have hugged the children warmly or maintained a rigid pose befitting of a servant in a well-to-do household. Was she jolly or strict, fond of little ones or disapproving of their playfulness? All I know is that Mom never spoke of her. If Maude encouraged visits to her flat, she certainly didn't make a big impression on her granddaughters.

Photo credit: "Squirrel, Maida Hill, W9: by Ewan Munro.