Evidence of light in the darkness of a pauper lunatic asylum

The third and final letter in my great-grandfather's medical casebook was written a few years after the others, on 18 February 1915. In it, David Ritchie Sr addresses the Medical Superintendent by name. This, combined with the frank style of the letter, indicates to me that enough groundwork has been laid for raising issues of concern. Even so, the letter has disturbing elements, as you will see when you read it.

Once again, I thought hard about whether to publish the letter and decided to do so because it is an opportunity to bridge the gap between regular society and the mentally ill. I wish to show that not all people who spend time in a psychiatric hospital or ward are non-functional. In the case of David Ritchie Sr, he remained articulate and cooperative during his first 6 years at Hanwell and possibly beyond. Moreover, far from being a dangerous maniac, he was a person who preferred to avoid conflict and violence at all costs.

Here is the letter:

"Dr PW Bailey, Sir, There has been another fight in the ward this morning, two yesterday, and the man who cut my cheek open came up to me and said he would punch my b- face in. I had to seize his arm and had a job to get away from him without being struck. Does it please you to know that I am thoroughly miserable, that I do not know how to contain myself and be patient as I contemplate my life being wasted and rendered barren of all good by your callous neglect and cruel unmerciful treatment? You appear to do all you can to degrade and unman me and dishearten me and I shall place it all before the Lunacy Commissioners both orally and in writing and see whether I cannot secure fair play and different treatment in the future. Yours etcetera, DS Ritchie. PS When do you intend to place me with men like myself?"

Judy Lester, who transcribed the letter for me, added the following note: "The above letter has been annotated in red across the top left-hand corner: 'The fight referred to in this letter was an assault by Thomas F Williams on Thomas Brasier on February 18 PB'

I believe that, were David Ritchie Sr alive today, he would be recognised as an HSP [Highly Sensitive Person] and prescribed medication to treat his condition. Being locked up for a lifetime would not happen because his symptoms would be managed. He would be working as an artist, filmmaker, software developer or accountant in a quiet office. Conditions are so different today. People can choose the lifestyle that suits them, moving away from the city if the pressure is too great. This man, who fretted about his life being "wasted and rendered barren of all good" may even have turned his experience working in stately homes into a diplomatic career.

Yet this was only 1915. His life's story still has value a century later. I believe the letters and the rest of the medical casebook have come to light for a reason. If nothing else, his example is inspiring. From a broken man who was brought to the workhouse in a state of delirium, he put effort into his recovery and strove to get the kind of treatment he knew was his right.

Photo credit: "Northern light" by Patrice-photgraphiste.

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.