US 5 – The Grundy Clan – George Raymond Grundy and Sarah Hughes Grundy

Grandfathers are just antique little boys. ~Author Unknown
Grandpa Grundy’s life was totally Dickenesque – think Oliver Twist.

The first time I heard about “Workhouse Howl” was in the PBS/BBC Series Call the Midwife. According to the series it was a wail of total agony that gave you a sense that the person who made that noise had given up their sense of personal dignity and all hope. It turns out that Jennifer North, the author of the books the series is based on knows a lot about Workhouses. Let’s here what she had to say.

“My own generation (1935 – 2011) grew up in the shadow of the workhouse. Our parents and grandparents lived in constant fear that something unpredictable would happen and that they would end up in one of those terrible buildings…… the workhouses came to be dreaded as places of shame, suffering and despair. People would often rather have died than go there – and some did. My grandfather knew a man who hanged himself when the guardians informed him that he must go into the workhouse.” 1.
My Grandpa Grundy probably heard the howl and I am sure it lived deep in his soul. He probably heard it from his mother. You see James Grundy, Grandpa’s dad, fathered 6 children and then abandoned his wife and his children.

The “needy” would present themselves at the “Workhouse” where all sense of family was destroyed. If the children were under two they could remain with their mother, but children from two to fourteen became wards of the state and were literally at the mercy of the Workhouse staff.

The Family might have looked like this

Jennifer Worth Continues, “Rules had to be obeyed on pain of harsh punishments, which included flogging, birching, withholding food, and solitary confinement. Complaints about the daily living conditions were usually dealt with by punishment. Deference to the master, his wife and the officers was required at all times. The atmosphere inside a workhouse was not only stifling to the human soul, but destroyed the last shreds of human dignity.”

 The Police Flog a boy

 “The Boys’ Workhouse”, from Albert Edelfelt (1885)

It seems that their primary goal was to get the kids off the dole and working as fast as they could. Paupers were locked into the dormitory each night and the sanitary arrangements were disgusting. A coarse rough uniform, often made of hemp, which was very harsh on the skin and offered no real warmth in the winter, was provided. Paupers’ heads were sometimes, though not always, shaved. Regulations permitted the hair of children to be forcibly shaved. This was intended for the control of lice or fleas, but was sometimes done as a punishment, especially on little girls, for whom it was a humiliation.”

 Look at the boy towards the front on the left hand side, he could be one of ours. 1895 This would be close to the right time. Grandpa was ten.

If there was a way they farmed out the children as indentured labor to anyone who would take them and provide for their needs with the understanding that they would be taught a trade and clothed and fed. One gets the sense it was a somewhat refined form of slavery. I am sure that the people who took Grandpa in were sure they were being kind, but I am sure it was abrupt and severe. Apparently Grandpa worked out because he not only learned to be a Baker and confectioner (cakes and cookies), but he drove the bakers cart. But the good news is that it appears his transfer as a baker’s serf took him the eight miles he needed to be in the neighborhood of Grandma, in fact I’m told she live right next door to the bakery. They apparently met in the church choir and my mom seemed to think they grew up together. Same town, same church, it makes sense. Next door with the Baker – Holloway Road Droitwich.

 Grandma and Grandpa on their Wedding Day January 19th 1906

A happy ending yes, but my heart turns to that ten year old boy – When did they forced my grandpa out into an unfeeling world? The rule said “chuck em” at seven. My grandpa was ten. When did they rip him out the embrace of his mother, banish him from the faces of his brothers and sisters. The memory of his father had been evaporating into a wisp. Could he read? Could he write, spell, or do his sums? As any child he could be frightened. As a child he could feel the anguish of loss. As a child he could remember. For the moment there is no record of the tragedy. There is a vacuum of knowledge. But when I look at this picture of him he looks confident, the grandpa I knew was kind, but were there scars?


This is a Workhouse – Looks like a prison. How long would scars of memory haunt the daylight and dark of his heart and mind.


This is probably how Great Grandma Grundy finished out her life. Alone without her children in the Workhouse she died , my mom suggested that she mentally broke down. Strange, but records indicate that James Grundy died insane in a Workhouse too.

 We think this is James Grundy – James died 1934 and Louisa in 1939

 Charles Chaplin and his mother Hannah

Oddly enough Charles Chaplin and my Grandpa had a lot in common. Charlie Chaplin was eight years younger than Grandpa but they both had dads that abandoned them and mothers that were overwhelmed. Mom and Pop Chaplin were both would be entertainers, unfortunately not successful ones. Of this time Chaplin said,”I was hardly aware of a crisis because we lived in a continual crisis; and, being a boy, I dismissed our troubles with gracious forgetfulness.” I bet he did, but his abandoned mother couldn’t cope and Charley ended up in the “Workhouse.” Ma Chaplin and her brood were forced to go to the “Workhouse” to survive. I am sure that somewhere there were kind hearts that funded and provided the resources for the “Workhouse,” but the recipients of its kindness may have seen it differently. Chaplin would end up in the Workhouse twice before his wits would make him a delightful success on the stage at a very young age. Most experts would tell you the greatest source for comedy is loneliness and pain. Think of that if you get a chance to see the “Little Tramp.” The movie Chaplin makes this moment in Charlie’s life a comical episode.

Based on my family I’d say that there was a real commitment to short and sweet when it came to their personal histories. Nothing from Grandpa and Grandma Grundy, and just about a page and a half from both Grandpa and Grandma Thomas and the same from my dad, although cousin Marie gathered a lot from my mom’s willowy memory, but assumptions for the moment are made – based upon dates, locations and known histories.

The first assumption I would make was Grandpa had validated himself as an accomplished baker and that this was how he provided for his wife and children and they arrived quickly – George William (Bill), then Sarah Beatrice and then they lost a child Charles what a heart break. He lived for only a little over a month, but I like to think that the gospel which was now a part of their life was a comfort.

Grandma Grundy was a “pistol” I think she was born fighting and she never stopped. Sarah’s Dad didn’t take to George Raymond Grundy, but she married him anyway. From what I understand the only difference between the two families was that Great Grandpa Hughes stayed and was a reliable dad.

They were both Churched, brought up in the Church of England, but she refused to have her first child “christened” because there was no evil in him and they drifted into the Baptist Church where they stayed for the next couple of years and then in 1909 the hated “Mormons” showed up at her door. She, I think, gave her neighbors a stony look and let em in. They returned again and again until the ever watchful neighbors suggested to George Raymond that the Mormons were trying to kidnap his wife and if he wasn’t careful he’d come home one night and find her gone. Grandpa showed up to show them who was boss and they both joined the Church on August 15th 1909.

Grandpa was a “scraper” too and on the day he was baptized he accommodated some of the village toughs by getting in a fight to defend his wife’s good name and the credence of the Church. This happened a lot – Grandpa was a 6 + feet tall and learned how to take care of himself early.

Sarah Hughes at 18 and Grandma the year she joined the Church at 26
 Grandma and Grandpa Grundy had three children before they joined the Church – William, Charles who died in 1910 and Beatrice. Harper joined the family three years after they became members.

 George (Bill) 1906 and Sarah Beatrice (1908) and Harper William (1912) Charles Grundy was born in 1910, but died a month later.

Right in the middle of becoming a Mormon and having a family came World War 1 – 28 July 1914 to 11 November 1918. I developed this in Blog 8 Vacuums, but Everyone said that the War changed Grandpa – he was a kinder man. My Mom was born while the War was being fought 1917 and when Grandpa came back he changed his workhouse assigned occupation too – instead of a Baker he received training to become a Carpenter (There’s a butch of question here, was his choice an act of independence or an effort to removed the last vestiges of the Workhouse?). He also returned to activity in the Church which would become the centerpiece of his life.

 Here is a picture of Grandpa when he was a member of the Branch Presidency See him far left?

I think the church was everything to grandpa. I have never heard anything about Grandpa Grundy’s life as a carpenter. My childhood memories tell me he was a good one because I have a phantom memory of a train I thought he built for me. The train was maybe 18 inches high and 10 to 15 feet long and was beautifully built. The train consisted of an engine with coal car, a caboose and assorted cars. I remember it was beautiful, but completely impossible to move unless several adults moved it around. I think Grandpa built it to dazzle a child and also because he could. I was convinced it was mine, but I am sure he built it for all his grandkids. But I know I had a thing for trains.

My mother was their last child and as mentioned was born just before he returned from the war that transformed his life. I know nothing about this time except what Grandpa and Grandma told me in 1963.

My Mom about 12

In December of 1962 I returned to England as a missionary for the Church and was assigned to Crewe which was just a train ride away from where my Grandparents were now living. So early in 1963 I was given permission to go and see them and I did. I remember a complicated train and bus ride down and in the late afternoon I found my way to their house. With my missionary companion we knocked on the door and my Grandpa opened the door and said, “Well come on in.” There was real affection in his voice and he took us both in to meet my Grandma who was all set up regally in bed ready to meet us. I don’t know why, but Grandma didn’t like America and had a real “issue” with Salt Lake City in particular – it wasn’t righteous enough for her so SHE insisted on coming back to England (Grandpa loved America and had a job as a carpenter at South East Furniture). Grandma proceeded to tell Elder Magleby and me what was what. She told us about the early days of the church in Birmingham and how both she and Grandpa had been missionaries. She spoke of the Bull Ring on High Street.

 Here on Market Day (Wednesday) farmers and merchants would sell their good and the Missionaries would preach to the crowds. Today the Area is filled with The Birmingham’s Selfridges

 Grandpa and Grandma Grundy in 1963.

Grandma enlightened us about how the courage of the Handsworth Saints faced off against the hostile prejudice of their neighbors. She talked of the great leaders of the church that they knew as friends – James E. Talmage, David O. McKay, Ezra Taft Benson and Gordon B. Hinckley. These great ones slept in their home and shared their food.

She wanted to hear about her family in America. I answered her questions and she expressed her affection for her two sons-in-law Alvin and Bill – and said what great guys they were. Grandpa just sat quiet and let his wife hold court. I showed her a picture of my sweetheart – Paula and she wanted to know if she was a “Floozy Girl.”

I would visit them again, once to see Grandma in the hospital, another for Grandma’s funeral and finally a trip to Rugby for Grandpa’s funeral. In retrospect as I think about it I sense their nobility and courage.

I can remember Grandma and Grandpa in America. They lived in this house on Holiday Boulevard in Holiday Utah.

 That’s my cousins Bill and Marie sitting on the front porch. 5385 Holladay Blvd.

This is picture of how they looked when they came to America.

They appeared on a Radio Program in Chicago (Welcome Travelers) in route to Salt Lake. Grandpa bore his testimony on the show and Grandma bore her testimony of Grandpa.

      Grundy-Chicago-1947

I know Grandpa loved America, he loved the adventure. But Grandma was a different story she thought Salt Lake wasn’t righteous enough – Coffee and Tea right on the shelve in the grocery store. She demanded that Grandpa take her back and he did. Here is a picture of Grandma on front porch of her American home.

 I can remember Grandma waiting with us and singing to us as we (Me, Richard and Chris) waited for the bus to bring Grandpa, Dad and Mom from work. She sang “Just a song at twilight” and rocked in a rocking chair.

Grandma Grundy was a hard read. She loved the Lord and the Church, but she had a lot of issues with the people in the church. I have a vague memory of her having a “Fellow Traveler” in the Holiday Ward and they would collectively dissect the sins of the membership. It was her calling, she thought, and where ever she settled – England or America she got to it. When we met in Birmingham she gave her personal read of the membership of Handsworth Branch and some time later when I went to visit her in the hospital, just before she died, she was able to assess what was wrong with the entire hospital. My mom always talked about Grandma’s eagerness to look out for the needy and give the “left out” a leg up. I hope to meet that Grandma too.

I saw Grandpa Grundy for the last time the day of Grandma Grundy’s funeral. He was leaving their home in Birmingham and going to live with Harper (My Uncle)and his wife Marge in Rugby England. My Uncle Harper was teasing Grandpa and said, “Well if your going to live in my house Dad, you’ll have do what I tell you.” The last thing I remember Grandpa Grundy saying was, “Well if your mother taught me nothing else she taught me how to be obedient.” I remember him sitting in the window box of his home packed up and ready to leave with his son – sad and alone. He died a few months later. But he lived a life of obedience to his wife, yes, but more important to God and His Kingdom.

 This is the joining of the two families. Grandpa and Grandma Grundy behind my mom and dad and Grandpa and Grandma Thomas behind my Aunt Edith and Uncle Dennis Collins. My cousin Raymond Horner is the little boy between Uncle Hayden and my Father and my Aunt Norma Atkins is standing right next to my Uncle Dennis.

 These paintings were done by Alvin Gittins when he was 17. He has been described as “one of the United States greatest portrait artists ever.”
 Here is a self Portrait and one of his more famous portraits.

Dr. Gittins would be the Dean of the Art Department at the University of Utah. He remembered the paintings and wanted to tweak them to his then current professional standard. He took and tweaked them both and then returned them to my folks. I think it is interesting that an artist that recorded the images of the great ones in America was called upon, by my dad, to record the image of two ordinary, but faithful saints. I think my Grand Parents are representative of all the wonderful, but nameless faithful that help the Church function – “High yield, low maintenance.”

 Portraits of President David O Mckay and Orrin Porter Rockwell by Alvin Gittins

As noted, the last time I spoke to my Grundy Grand Parents I was an untried and self preoccupied missionary. As I have studied and tried to record their history and my memories of them, I have been struck by the realization that I have made my life journey too. As I have told you I have covered a large part of the charted map of my own foreordained pilgrimage and I can sit down and talk to them as an equally weathered soul. I look forward to that talk. I see my folks, aunts and uncles and both sets of Grandparents Grundy and Thomas waiting for our catch up talk. I think there will be a lot of laughing.