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.