His good education must have come from somewhere, surely

Among the many questions surrounding my grandfather's background is the one concerning his education.

How did the son of two domestic servants get appointed to head up the South African office of an important British company? What equipped him to travel around the world talking about computers when most firms were still using basic adding machines?

My grandfather, David Scott Ritchie, was born in London and probably attended a school in St John's Wood with his cousins from the age of seven. This was when his father, David Ritchie Sr, was dismissed from service as a butler and admitted to the London County Hospital's asylum as a pauper. His mother, Maud Alice Ritchie, was a cook who resided with the family that employed her at Cleveland House, St James Square. Up until that time, it is unclear where my grandfather lived, given that both his parents were in domestic service but it seems unlikely that he would have received much exposure to books or sophisticated adult company wherever he was.

Unless he was identified early on as a little boy with special intelligence and coached in reading, writing and arithmetic by a kind-hearted employer. Perhaps the lady of the house allowed him to sit in on lessons with her children's tutor. Whatever the case, my grandfather developed wide-ranging interests, a great conversational style and an impeccable dress sense that remained with him until his death in 1989.

Then again, maybe he only began to blossom into his full potential later on. Maybe he was identified as a promising young man when he was working at his first job and delivering chocolates to the royal palace. It is possible that someone took an interest in him there, especially because of his strong resemblance to Henry, son of George, the future king of England. It could be that this person suspected a connection to the royal family and gave him a leg-up by recommending him to be the beneficiary of a college education.

Then there is the other possibility, that David was the unacknowledged son of a gentleman, and that the gentleman paid for his education in return for his mother's silence. This theory is fun to think about but I am inclined to discount it. To my mind, any admission to a smart school or university would have been worth celebrating and we would have heard about it. After all, what grandparent can help themselves when it comes to sharing stories from their own childhood with their grandchildren?

No, I tend to think that my grandfather was exposed to gentry early on. Whatever happened to him after his father was committed to the asylum probably remained undisclosed because of the stigma attached to mental illness. I believe his early exposure to books and stories about travel created in him an appetite for learning and a desire to escape the confines of the working class. By the time he finished school, his good grades and ambition were enough to propel him into the kind of career he thirsted for, and the rest is documented history.

Photo credit: "Aske's Boys School, New Cross, London" by Matt Martin.

The world is too noisy for me, says David Ritchie Sr

This is the second post in my series about the letters found in the medical casebook of my great-grandfather David Ritchie Sr, written to the staff of the London County Asylum in Hanwell. Here I examine the contents of the second letter, the one he wrote while out on 1 month's trial discharge.

Dated 4 March 1911, the letter is addressed from 51 Exeter Street, Lisson Grove, Marylebone. This appears from census records to be a row house with space for 2 families. Since David's wife Maude was at Cleveland House, St James Square in 1909 and again in April 1911, she probably rented the Exeter Street rooms especially for the month of his discharge.

The letter is much more descriptive of my great-grandfather's condition than the one in which he asked to be recommended for a trial discharge. Initially, I was hesitant to share it. I decided, however, to do so in the interests of educating people about what it is actually like to suffer from mental illness. If you have read the first letter, you may notice a distinct difference in style and wonder if it is symptomatic of an out-of-control personality. I put it down to the fact that David was dictating the letter to Maude, and that Maude did not have the same finesse in writing as he did. Here is what he tells the medical Superintendent:

"My wife and I think we had better come and see you next Monday instead of waiting for the month to expire. I have lived carefully and have been hoping all along that when I got used to the change I should go on all right but I have got into a state which I believe is doing my brain injury. From the day of my discharge I have not had my proper sleep. I have done all in my power to remedy this, taken opening medicine tired myself out with long walks and stopped my ears with cotton wool at night but to no effect. I usually get about four to five hours sleep but I am in semi-conscious condition all the time, I wake at every sound. This did not seem to affect my health for the first five or six days but after that I could not distinguish the events of one day from another and my memory seemed to go to pieces. In the middle of a sentence my mind would sometimes become a blank and I would follow the sense of conversation some way and then lose my grip of it and ask to have the latter part repeated. I have been to see my friends and relatives but now I am so conscious of my deficiencies that I do not feel inclined for society because I get into a most irritable state bordering on frenzy but it soon passes and I have not lost control of myself. I don't get cross with other people but with myself. I have been no trouble to others, have had no disagreements and have not said an unkind word to anyone since I left Hanwell but I am afraid of these irritable fits. I think I have left Hanwell too soon, my recovery has been very slow and it has not gone far enough. I would have seen a doctor had I the slightest hope of benefit, but I am afraid of drugs and I think it is the incessant movement and noise of the traffic which has excited my senses so that I cannot get into a proper condition for healthy sleep. I shall come prepared to stay at Hanwell till recovered. My wife has helped me with this letter, we are devoted to each other, and hope our reunion will only be put off for a time. She will accompany me on Monday. I thank you, sir, for recommending me for my discharge and hope it will not be regretted as I have given no trouble in any way."

It is interesting to note David Ritchie's reference to traffic noise. Hyper-awareness of sensory stimulation is often associated with a sensitive personality. Yet, even more telling, I think, is his insistence that he has conducted himself well and not been a nuisance, despite his difficulties with sleeping and losing track of conversation. Even the letter itself, with its respectful and accepting tone, suggests he is in the habit of downplaying his own needs in order to keep the peace.

Photo credit: "Trafalgar Square" by Leonard Bentley.

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.

Another intriguing revelation on the 1911 census for Cleveland House

You will remember from a previous post that Maude Alice Ritchie was living at Cleveland House in St James Square in 1911. The census lists her as being a cook in domestic service along with 2 other female servants. David, her son, is not with her because he is living with his aunt and uncle, Emily and William Smith. And there is something else of interest as well.

Unlike previous censuses, the 1911 census included questions about the duration of a person's current marriage, the number of children born within that marriage, the number of children living and the number of children who had died. Thus, it reveals things we did not know before. Maude states that she has been married 10 years, which is about right as her marriage to David Scott Ritchie Sr took place in February 1902, 9 years and 2 months earlier. What we didn't expect to find, though, was that she had 2 children within that marriage. One of those children was still living and one was deceased. obviously, my grandfather was the one who survived, but what of the other?

There is no telling from the census when the deceased child was born. he or she may have come before David Scott Ritchie Jr, in which case he or she would definitely have been born out of wedlock. Or the child could have been David's twin since no proper record for David's birth has been located. The only document pertaining to David's birth is Maude's statutory declaration signed in 1918, and she would not have thought it necessary to refer to the deceased child at that point. Or the deceased child may have arrived after David. he or she would then have been a younger sibling to Grandad, an uncle or aunt to my mother and a great-uncle or great-aunt to me.

What the note in the census also communicates is that Maude knew loss even before her husband was admitted to the London County Asylum. now, it is well known that infant mortality rates at the turn of the 19th century were significantly higher than they are today and that mothers who bore children lived in constant fear of their infants contracting diarrhoea, tuberculosis, measles, mumps and other dread diseases. Even so, having a baby die always leaves an indelible mark on a person. How Maude must have suffered, asking herself what she could have done differently to save the baby's life! Did she ever find the grace that would let her peacefully accept the loss or was she forever haunted by grief, guilt or rage?

I would like to find out more about this deceased relative of mine. Judy Lester of Kerrywood Research ran a check to see if anything obvious turned up but nothing did. i expect the answer will come from an unexpected source, such as a long-lost diary, letter or fragment of family lore passed down to a distant living cousin. Or perhaps the answer will never come. But somewhere out there is a tiny grave, moving me to remember all the little ones who died before they had a chance to really live.

Photo: Maude Alice Ritchie

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

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Contemplating time in St James Square

The last address I had on my list to visit in London was for a house in St James Square. This was the house where Maude Alice Ritchie was employed as a cook in domestic service at the time of the 1911 census. She was 33 and married, but neither her husband David Scott Ritchie Sr nor her son David Scott Ritchie Jr were recorded as living with her.

Walking into St James Square is a slightly surreal experience, especially when you know your great-grandmother once presided over a kitchen in one of these regal-looking houses. The square is bounded by very solid-looking Victorian-style buildings with columns and steps leading up to large, imposing doors. There isa garden surrounded by a wrought-iron fence in the centre, and when you walk through the garden, which isn't very big, it takes you out onto the street that leads to Pall Mall. There's no doubt about it, this is a very fancy part of london. Even being employed there as a servant must have afforded a certain status. For Maude, growing up as the second youngest of 10 children in a small apartment in Huntsworth Mews, the house and its location must have inspired awe.

The head of the household at the time of the 1911 census was George Sheppard Murray. His wife was Lucy Mary Joanna Murray. The couple were 59 and 43 respectively. George Murray was a retired bank manager from Jaffna, Ceylon, while Lucy was a resident of Hong Kong. Also living in the house in 1911 was their 18-year-old son, Eric Dennys Murray, who is listed as an army student and resident of Singapore.

From my research I knew that the house had once been the site of Cleveland House,, home of the Dukes of Cleveland from 1720 to 1894. When that house fell into disrepair it was demolished and replaced by the house in which Maude worked. That house stood for almost 100 years before being knocked down again. The brick-clad office building which stands there now is the headquarters of the Rolex Watch Company in London, and very impressive it is too.

We didn't go into the building although we could have, I think. It wasn't yet the end of the business day. But it had been a long and tiring walk. Tempers were getting a little frayed and I know when enough is enough. Besides, I definitely want to do another trip to London with my sister, so there will be ample opportunity to fill in all the gaps.

Walking in my great-grandmother's footsteps

A recent trip to England to see our daughter gave my husband and I an opportunity to look up some addresses that feature in the narrative of my grandfather's mother, Maude Alice Parker nee Ritchie. I had collated the addresses into a list from census records and other documentation. Google then assisted in the plotting of the points on a map and coming up with a route to link them all. This post is about the route we took, while future posts will detail the events which took place at each location.

Our starting point was Piccadilly Circus where we were staying. We boarded a tube for Marylebone Station and rose to street level via a couple of very long escalators. I believe Marylebone Station is one of the oldest, if not the oldest, underground train station in London, although this would only apply to the upper platform since deep-level tunnelling came later. It's hard to imagine what the old station would have looked like in the late 1800's, given the crowds of sneakered tourists and suited businessmen, not to mention electric cars, vans and double-decker buses that populate the area today.

Following the satellite navigation, we made our way to Huntsworth Mews where Maude lived as a little girl. Not much of the facade remains now but the secluded, paved road is just the same as it was.

Next we walked to Broadley Street, formerly Earl Street, where Maude lived in her early teens. The street is now an attractive residential road, although I have a sense that it comprised much less salubrious accommodation at the end of the 19th century. It has nice wide pavements now and the houses are set back a little from the street, suggesting that the upgrading of the area may have included some demolition of small cottages.

Our walk took us through a busy and very noisy part of town to what used to be the Paddington Green Children's Hospital. It is now a care centre but the red brick gate-posts and facade are reminiscent of times past. This was where my grandfather was born. Directly opposite the gates of the old hospital is Paddington Green itself, a fenced park with very wintry-looking trees. No doubt Maude would have known it well.

Heading into Westminster, we found Brown Street, the address given by Maude on her statutory declaration of David's birth. That was in 1918 when my grandfather was 16. Standing on the corner, I caught a snatch of conversation between two young men in suits and gleaned from their discussion about finance that they were probably in the banking sector.

By this time, it was mid-afternoon. Catching a bus, we emerged at Knightsbridge where some of London's most expensive property is located. After admiring the beautiful facades of buildings occupied by property brokers, accountants and lawyers in Curzon Street, we reached Mayfair and Chesterfield Street. This is another very impressive road, much quieter than Curzon Street and thick with blue signs identifying the addresses of historical notaries such as author Somerset Maugham, prime minister Anthony Eden and fashion leader Beau Brummell. Right in the middle of all this fame and fortune lived the Viscount Hood at the residence which now houses the High Commission of the Bahamas. It was here that Maude worked in 1901 as a kitchen maid and met the man who was to become her husband.

Staying amongst the rich and famous, we made our way across Green Park to St James Square. Our route took us along the mall and the area where the Queen's horses are stabled. There was a convoy of motorcycles ahead of us which could have been escorting an important official but it wasn't likely to have been any of the royals as they are currently in Sandringham, to the best of our knowledge. Anyway, we finally reached St James Square and the address where Maude was working in 1911. It is now the London headquarters of the Rolex Watch Company.

With the sun sinking fast and the temperature dropping, we hurried through St James Park back to Piccadilly Circus. Two things stood out to me from the afternoon's long ramble: Firstly, that what was for us just a tiny part of the city was, in Maude's day, quite a substantial portion of it. And secondly, that the 1939-1945 war must have wrought extensive damage in the streets through which we'd passed although I detected nothing but neatness and order.

A 9-year-old boy seems to be missing

I've talked about my grandfather's birth in Paddington in 1902. His mother was Maude and his father was David. They lived in Albert Street and may well have been working there too, since they were a cook and a footman respectively.

One would expect, then, to find him living with his parents 9 years later in the 1911 census. But things have changed significantly. Neither Davids are listed in the same household as Maude. This presents another genealogical puzzle.

Let's look first at Maude. She is listed with her full name, Maude Alice Ritchie, and birth location, London, Marylebone. As expected, she states that she is married, aged 33 and a Cook/Domestic. The household she is working in is grand, being located in St James Square in the neighbourhood of St James, not far from the royal palace of St James and St James' Park. The head of the household, George Shepperd Murray, is a retired bank manager from Ceylon, and besides his high-born wife and son there are 2 other female servants in residence.

It is possible that my grandfather was living somewhere else with his father, the footman/butler. Then again, I haven't been able to trace either of them in England. Could it be that David Scott Ritchie senior took his son to the United States or Canada, just as his older brother William took his son, David Scott of Lambeth? This is an attractive theory but it goes against what my grandfather wrote in his memoir about making his first trip abroad in 1926 when he cycled through Belgium with his friends.

Another theory is that he was away at boarding-school. This is a more likely possibility, I think, except that I don't know how the couple would have afforded it on their small joint income.

A third possibility is that someone else funded David's education. The subsequent successful career of my grandfather in the world of Hollerith lends credibility to this idea. But who could the mystery sponsor be? Maude's father, James Parker, had died more than 10 years earlier, leaving his wife Jane to live off her own means. David Scott Ritchie senior's father, William Ritchie, was 20 years in the grave, so his wife, Emma Eliza, was similarly unable to offer charity. Perhaps, and this is where my nose for scandal begins to twitch, the individual was someone else entirely. Perhaps it was my grandfather's true father or his aristocratic family who made a bargain to ensure her silence.

After all, Maude had been working for Viscount Hood in Chesterfield Street at the time of the 1901 census. Everyone who visited there must have been noble by birth. Who can say what went on in a household with three times the number of servants employed by the Murrays of St James Square?

Sketch by James Hobbs

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