There is a story in Grandad's memoir about him and Grandma attending fox-hunting events while they were courting. Given that neither of them came from noble families, their presence at these events didn't make sense. Now some new information has emerged which throws light on this mystery.
Grandma was an only child who grew up in the East End of London. I knew very little about her early life when I began this blog except that her maiden name was Florence Mary Sanderson and that she was born in Shoreditch in 1905.
From research done on My Heritage and Find My Past, I've been able to discover a little more about her roots. Her father was Charles Sanderson, born in York, Yorkshire in 1857. Her mother was Florence Mary Wilson, born in Bethnal Green, London in 1875. What is remarkable here is the age difference between her parents. Charles was nearly 18 years older than Florence, which may explain why they only had one child.
I am fortunate to have become the keeper of the Sanderson family Bible. It came to me in a very fragile state and I had it professionally re-bound to preserve the precious notes recorded on its front pages. Charles' name is listed, along with his father Thomas Winskill Sanderson and his mother Mary Ann Bland. The record shows that there were eleven children in all, although only eight made it to adulthood.
According to census records, all Charles' surviving siblings lived out their lives in Yorkshire. He was the only one who left and move to London. Perhaps his being the eldest son placed certain expectations on him, or perhaps he was simply looking to seek his fortune in the city. At any rate, that was how he met and married Florence Wilson. The marriage took place in 1903, the year before Grandma was born.
It was from the 1911 census taken in Mile End Old Town that I learnt Charles Sanderson's occupation was horse keeper. This little detail reminded me that Grandma had a small brooch with a riding whip and horseshoe which she gifted me when I entered my first gymkhana as a child. She also fostered my interest in horses by buying me a subscription to an expensive English horse magazine. Grandma never rode after she and Grandad moved to South Africa but she must have retained fond memories of the horses her dad cared for back in London. When I shared what I had found with my sister, she reminded me that she had a three-handled mug depicting a hunting scene which had belonged to our mother, and that this may have been passed down from Grandma who received it from her father. I have added a photo of the mug here, and if anyone can suggest its provenance, I would be most grateful.
Did Grandma and Grandad gain access to fox-hunting events through Charles' job, I wonder? After all, it was through my own friend's father, who was a keen better on the races, that she and I gained access to the race course! It seems conceivable that Charles, who was responsible for someone else's horses and therefore familiar with horsy events, should wish to open doors for his daughter and her fiancé, especially as David was always so keen on visiting new places.
I like this explanation of the story in Grandad's memoir. It feels right. I can just see my very tall grandfather holding the elbow of my very petite and stylishly-dressed grandmother as they politely acknowledged the master of the hunt in his black top hat and scarlet coat, while throngs of riders, grooms and horses milled about on a grey winter's day.
Photo credit: Illustration of fox hunting from Sporting Sketches (1817-1818) by Henry Alken (1784-1851). Original from The New York Public Library. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.
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