Locating my maternal grandparents in the first month of World War II

I told in my last post about my grandfather David Scott Ritchie taking his family to England when he travelled on business in 1939. They sailed into Southhampton in July. Then England declared war on Germany on 3 September. I can only imagine their horror at the thought of what this might mean and how they were going to get back to Cape Town.

Since Grandad had meetings to attend in London, however, they could not depart immediately. They stuck to their plans for a holiday in the country and went camping and fossil-collecting instead. We know this because their names appear on the 1939 Register for Seadown Camp , Bridport Road, Dorset. This was another of the records found for me by Judy Lester.

According to the National Archives website, the 1939 Register was taken on 29 September that year. This surprised me as I thought it was taken much earlier in 1939, before war even seemed likely. Swift organisation and hard work must have accompanied the staging of the event and the nation is to be credited for pulling it off in such uncertain times. As for the information gathered, it was used to "produce identity cards and, once rationing was introduced in January 1940, to issue ration books. Information in the Register was also used to administer conscription and the direction of labour, and to monitor and control the movement of the population caused by military mobilisation and mass evacuation."

So to the register entries themselves. Grandad gives his name as David S. Ritchie, his date of birth as 31 March 1902 [the same date that appears on the statutory declaration made in 1918 by his mother Maude], and his occupation as "Electrical Engineer Accountant Machinery". Grandma gives her name as Florence M Ritchie, her date of birth as 28 Dec 1904, and her occupation as "Unpaid Domestic Duties". There are two redacted entries which presumably relate to Auntie Gill and my mother Wendy, aged 7 and 4 respectively.

Although David and Florence were not residents of Bridport Road, it is interesting to note the most common occupations of residents in that area. Men were typically retirees, farm labourers, gardeners, dairy owners, cowmen, general labourers, carters or carpenters. Women were typically involved in unpaid domestic duties, living by their own means, working as housekeepers, school teachers, cooks or house maids, incapacitated or retired. Clearly, this was where folks went to get away from the big smoke.

I'm pleased to see that Seadown Holiday Park is still going strong. According to write-ups and reviews, it offers families a simple, fuss-free holiday a stone's throw from the beach. Dogs are welcome so it could be a nice destination for me and my guide dog Tango when I visit the UK with my sister! Being there will allow us to vividly picture the family in their caravan listening to reports of the war on the radio. Also, to contextualise some oft-repeated stories featuring the campsite that have been handed down to us, but more about those in another post. For now, I'm just chewing on the fact that Mom and Gill were there when war broke out, rather than in far-off Fishhoek. How anxious Grandma must have felt, and how innocent the girls must have seemed as they hunted for shells, built sandcastles and scattered breadcrumbs for the visiting birds.

Photo credit: "West Bay, Bridport [Dorset]" by Michael Day.

A night at the Strand Palace Hotel

Because I've been doing a series of blog posts based on documents found by professional genealogical researcher Judy Lester, I'm going to stick with her list of findings even though there is a big jump in the timeline at this point. The research brief was to find a birth certificate for my British-born grandfather, David Scott Ritchie. Having located him living with his aunt and uncle in St John's Wood at the time of the 1911 census, the paper trail disappears for close on 3 decades and reappears in 1939.

Judy found a passenger list showing David Scott Ritchie, his wife Florence and 2 daughters arriving at Southhampton from South Africa on 5 July 1939. The ship they were on was called the Pretoria Castle and the address given for their stay was the Strand Palace Hotel in London. Clearly, the British Tabulating machine Company treated its agents well.

Here's some background to fill out the story: Grandad and Grandma left England in 1929. They settled in the small South African town of Fishhoek and Grandad ran the Cape Town office of Hollerith computers. They had two children, my auntie Gill in 1932 and my mother Wendy in 1935. Grandad visited the company's head office in London every 5 years and it was his practice to exchange his first-class business ticket for a second-class family ticket. This, then, was his second trip back to headquarters.

The first time the family returned to England, auntie Gill was a babe in arms. The second time, Gill and Mom were 7 and 4 respectively. I can only imagine what an adventure the sea voyage must have been for them! For Grandma and Grandad, too, sailing into Southhampton and thinking about all the exciting things that lay ahead for the girls must have been thrilling. Not to mention a comfortable first night staying at the Strand Palace Hotel close to the royal palace of King George VI.

Meanwhile, David's mother Maude was still living alone and working as a cook. She would not have had space to accommodate the family from South Africa but they no doubt visited her and took her on outings with them. David's father, on the other hand, had been a patient in the London County Asylum [since renamed St Bernard's Hospital, Southall] for 30 years. Whether David saw him there or not I don't know. Judging from the fact that neither my aunt nor my mother even knew about the existence of a mentally-ill relative though, I suspect not.

Aside from a few days in the office then, this was to be an ordinary summer holiday. There would be beaches to explore, horses to ride, cousins to play with and ice cream and candy floss to eat. But if the family weren't troubled by the presence of a sad lunatic in a mental hospital, they were most certainly troubled by the threat of imminent war with Germany, as I will show in a future post.

Photo credit: "UK-London-The Strand: Art Deco on the River" by Wally Gobetz.

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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