‘I want to keep my own individuality. I don’t want to be forced to do something I don’t want to do’
January 2002. Photographs dated, l to r: 1912; 1926; 1930, 1971, 2002
Grace Edith Mills was born in the year the Titanic sank (as
she often reminded us). This was possibly why ‘her ship
never came in’ which was the reason she gave later for our
modest standard of living.
She was the first child of Charles and Edith Mills (born 24
June 1912.) Her middle-class family was living in Rochester
Road, Southsea and, less than two years later, Grace’s
brother was born. Four months later the world was engulfed
by war. Charles immediately enlisted and was posted
initially to Longford Road, Bognor where Grace and her
family remained when Charles was sent to France.
School days and growing up
Baptism at St James, Milton, Portsmouth
In 1918, peace finally settled and so, soon afterwards, did the Mills family - at ‘Verona’, Ophir Road,
North End, Portsmouth. Grace was educated at Portsmouth High Schools for Girls. She forged close
friendships with two other girls at school, one of whom was Marjorie Brown. Grace kept several
photographs of the trio and when Marjorie died, more than seventy years later, Marjorie left Grace a
legacy in her will.
Grace showed a good turn of speed as a sprinter. When I was about ten years old, she entered the
hundred yards dash for parents and although she was well into her forties, Grace won! Her reward
was a box of chocolates - which cost less than her stockings which needed to be replaced.
During her youth, Grace, like so many middle-class children, learnt to play the piano. Unlike so many,
she persevered and played for the rest of her life - including accompanying her religious congregation,
often with no notice.
Grace is far left Grace is far right, standing Grace with her mother
A move to London
After Grace finished High School in 1928, she decided to study
Pitman’s shorthand. Although her father taught this subject, her
decision seems to have coincided with her grandmother’s need for
companionship as her husband had died four years earlier.
As a result, Grace moved from Portsmouth to Stoke Newington,
London, enrolled in a secretarial school and started work in London
aged seventeen. As can be seen from the example (right), Grace’s
shorthand expertise evolved according to whether she could
remember the symbols or not! Nevertheless, she made great use of
her skill particularly when making notes during Bible talks.
The electoral roll at Stoke Newington supports this account of her
movements because she is listed at her grandmother’s house, 95
Fairholt Road, from 1934 (when she was aged 21 and eligible to
vote) until 1937 (see right - Laura Payne was Annie Dee’s
companion and the Colyer sisters lived in a flat in the house.
However, Grace was not included in the 1938 listing).
Grace worked as a stenographer/assistant lady almoner at St
Bartholomews Hospital (“Barts” shown right) in the City of London,
not far from St Pauls Cathedral and about four miles from Stoke
Newington. The hospital has existed on the same site since its
founding in the 12th century, surviving both the Great Fire of
London and the Blitz.
It was around this time, when Grace was twenty-one, that, like her
mother, she became profoundly deaf. This impairment was to
blight, restrict and impact on her life - but more about this later.
The role of the hospital almoner was to organise after-care for patients, including stays in
convalescent homes, special equipment for use at home, additional nutritional needs and so on. At
the same time, they were expected to identify patients whose families were in a position to make
some financial contribution towards treatment. As the condition of hospitals improved, more people
were willing to use their services, and the almoner’s role was to ensure that those who could afford to
pay, did so. Almoners were thus expected to act as a go-between and ambassador for the hospital in
its dealings with patients’ families.
They were required to keep meticulous records on each case, and to negotiate with other Hospitals
and charities (as well as local authorities) for equipment, convalescent home places, and nutritional
supplements. The Almoners’ work involved an encyclopaedic knowledge of what was available within
the hospital and elsewhere for the benefit of patients. The almoners saw themselves primarily as the
intermediaries between the Hospital and the patients’ families. It was the almoner who offered
practical advice and guidance, and a sympathetic ear, to the parents of coeliac patients. It was also
the almoner who conducted delicate conversations with long-term patients, affected by limited contact
with their families, and it was the almoner who found the money for respite care, and for the transport
costs of cash-strapped relatives, so that they might visit as much as possible. As a group, the women
took a practical approach to a role in which they were faced daily with the practical difficulties of
having a sick child in the family. In the words of one almoner, “[Our] work is not designed to make life
softer but to help people cope with difficulties, changing in a constantly changing society.”
While not suggesting that Grace was personally involved in this work, as a stenographer, she was
more likely to have supported this aspect of hospital life by helping with the production and keeping of
records.
There was more upheaval for Grace. World war created the need to move Barts almost lock, stock
and barrell from London. Most of the nursing staff and patients were evacuated. In the first two weeks
of September 1939, 308 Bart’s nurses were moved to Hill End Hospital at St Albans. Throughout the
war the nursing staff had to nurse far more beds than was usual in peacetime. In 1938, St
Bartholomew’s Hospital had 763 beds, but in 1940 there were more than 1100 at Hill End alone, with
over sixty beds in each ward.
The 1939 Register noted Grace as Most of the nursing staff and patients were evacuated from central
London. In the first two weeks of September 1939, 308 Bart’s nurses were moved to Hill End Hospital
at St Albans. Throughout the war the nursing staff had to nurse far more beds than was usual in
peacetime. In 1938, St Bartholomew’s Hospital had 763 beds, but in 1940 there were more than 1100
at Hill End alone, with over sixty beds in each ward.
The 1939 Register noted Grace as being at 54 Salisbury
Avenue, St Albans (shown right). She was sharing digs with
the married Rigmor Stapley.Their landlord was the forty-five-
year-old stockbroker investment expert, Frederick Smith.
This was complete surprise to me. I had no idea she lived in
Hertfordshire at this time - and it explains why she was
assigned to a Hertfordshire farm when she joined the Land
Army. If war had not been declared and Grace had not been
working at Barts, I would never have been born.
Hill End, near St Albans
But even here, supposedly far from the ravages of war, the hospital was not safe:
Sisters: Memories from the Courageous Nurses of World War Two - Barbara Mortimer
But I am running ahead and should close the door on Grace’s life in London.
While in London, she enjoyed life in the metropolis. She attended the Proms at the Albert Hall,
celebrated the New Year at Trafalgar Square and knew her way around town. Much later she
took her children to Lyons Corner House (a place that clearly held happy memories for her) for a
special treat - high tea.
I know from her choice of godmother when I was born that Grace was a committed Anglican and
she was also possibly influenced by her grandmother who was a staunch churchwoman. Just
before her death, she spoke of the summer breaks she had enjoyed with the Church Holiday
Fellowship. She went to Austria with the Fellowship in 1937, Stonehenge and also enjoyed a
‘well organized trip’ to Conway Castle in Wales and ‘a trek up Snowdon’. The photographs taken
on these trips show that her school friend, Marjorie Brown, accompanied Grace.
About this time, her brother remembers that Grace had ‘an understanding’ with a clergyman who
promised to marry her. However, he went to South Africa and returned, a married man.
During this time she regularly spent summer holidays with her parents, as recorded by seeveral
photographs:
Grace (kneeling centre) and her school friend, Marjorie Brown (to her left) with the Fellowship
The Land Army
Then, World War Two cast its shadow over Britain. As Grace later put it, ‘You see, the war came
along and it meant that you had to do your bit. The forces wouldn’t take me as I jolly well couldn’t
hear so the only other alternative was the Land Army’. According to her filing card in the National
Archives below, Grace joined on 25 January 1941. She gave her occupation as, ‘clerk’.
That was how she found herself in winter-time ‘wearing wellingtons,
grading potatoes in the snow, with a tarpaulin over us in the middle of a
field in Hertfordshire -our hands were awfully cold’. She had landed at
Home Farm, Preston, near Hitchin.
The Woman’s Land Army was formed because tens of thousands of
country-men either enlisted or transferred to industry leaving a
desperate need to keep the farms running and maintain the supply of
food. It has been estimated that there were ninety thousand Land Girls.
Grace was No. 37,296.
When the world was turned on its head, the Land Girls learnt the equality which was thrust upon
them. Farmers tested them by assigning them routine, menial and back-breaking jobs such as
muck-spreading, sowing potatoes, cutting thistles before the harvest and topping and tailing
turnips. Working in the chill of winter and the summer’s heat, they battled against mud or dust all
year round.
The main challenge was keeping their femininity when dealing with with corns on their hands,
muscular arms and weather-beaten faces.
They were issued with a uniform (often the wrong size) which was alien to wear at first: breeches,
shirt and tie, long woollen socks and heavy brogue shoes. In some ways the clothes were a
blessing in those days of austerity and dwindling wardrobes.
Many found the biggest hurdles were the stench of the farmyard and how to take a natural break
when working in the fields during winter-time: searching for a sheltered spot far away from
masculine eyes and then peeling off several layers of clothes.
I’ve been told by a later owner ,that some of the Land Girls were boarded at Crunnells Green
House (pictured below) which was near Home Farm.
Even getting along with one’s work mates could be
challenging as Land Girls were plucked from all walks
of life - Grace remembered that there was a talented
artist in her group.
Yet after dwelling on the obstacles, many women have
fond memories of their life on the farm: the fresh air,
reasonable food (even in wartime), the camaraderie
and the local attractions which included....men! Enter
Sam Wray, farm labourer, stage right.
28 September 1943
The marriage
Sam and Grace married in Portsmouth at St Mark’s Church, North End (above) on 17 March 1945
(she resigned from the Land Army thirteen days later on 30 March). She wistfully said, just before her
death, that ‘this ought to have been the outstanding day of my life’.
It seems to have been a low-key wedding. There is only one wedding photograph, in which Sam
seems stiff and ill at ease. He was probably conscious of the difference between his social standing
and that of his bride’s family. Indeed, in an evident attempt at parity he was fancifully described as a
‘farmer’ on the marriage certificate. His best man was his brother-in-law, Ron Whitby.
And Grace is not wearing a wedding dress in the photograph - rather an expensive ‘two-piece’. She
was to wear this for later photographs with her young children. We should remember that this was
after six years of world war. Austerity was the new vogue.
I don’t know who attended the wedding. Her father was present - and signed the certificate as a
witness. Incidentally, the signing by the witnesses is not genuine. It is certainly not Grace and Sam
who signed. rather, it’s probably Grace’s father, to cover the fact that Sam was not a comfortable
writer. Were Sam’s mother and Grace’s grandmother able to travel?
Grace’s brother did not attend - possibly because of his RAF commitments. Grace commented later,
‘Mum and Dad were very much against my marrying Sam, of course’.
Bearing in mind that she was thirty-three and distinctly on the shelf perhaps there was an element of
desperation in her decision. Sam was almost forty years old and unalterably fixed in his ways.
Several decades later, I heard several comments from Sam’s family and Preston villagers about the
marraige. One said, “(Grace) was a lady”. Another, “(Preston village was) not the right place for
her...you’ve got no business taking her there”. The consensus on both sides was that it was an
unsuitable marriage. Yet it endured. More than fifty years later, the couple were still together.
Married life in the Hertfordshire countryside
The couple made their home in a farm workers cottage, Reeve’s Cottage (left), in Sam’s home village
of Preston. The cottage was probably the oldest home in the village with exposed wooden
framework, low ceilings and rather cramped - or so it appeared to me when a modern-day owner
showed me around.
Without actually knowing, but imagining her feelings, although Grace was familiar with Preston and
knew some of the local folk, village-life after living in Portsmouth and then London must have been
hard to which to adapt. The cottage was almost a quarter of a mile from the neighbouring homes.
There was one shop in the village. The nearest town was three miles and a bus-ride away. Her
husband’s family were country people and his two sisters who lived locally had personalities which
wouldn’t have drawn Grace into the bosom of their family. Probably, she threw herself into caring for
her home and husband and found relative normality in the local country church.
It’s likely that Grace struggled to come to terms with her new life. She loathed Preston and refused to
return in later years.
Reeves Cottage in 1977 (left) and 2020. It appears neat and cared for - with its carefully
tended lawn and flower bed. I’ve seen a photograph of the exterior of the cottage a short
time after Grace and Sam lived there and it looked like a typical farm labourer’s home - a
little run-down, unkempt and small (without the extensions which have obviously been
added since). The property was sold for £1m in 2019.
(Left) a group of Land Girls at Preston. Grace is far left.
Back to Portsmouth
The means of escape came when Grace was expecting her first
child. Her son, Philip John, was born (far away from Hertfordshire) in
Southsea, Hampshire on 12 January 1946. Mother and son (pictured
right) remained in civilisation for eighteen months before returning to
Preston. They stayed with Grace’s parents.
When their second child, a daughter, Barbara Joy, was born (on the
Queen’s birthday - 15 April 1949), Sam bowed to the inevitable and
the family cut their rural ties and moved to Portsmouth permanently
to share the home of Grace’s father, a retired school master, who
was now a widower. Grace’s brother recalls an almighty row when
the family arrived at Portsmouth.
Grace’s conversion to being a Jehovah’s Witness
About a year later after Barbara’s birth, something happened
which Grace later described as the ‘highlight of her life’. She was
visited by two Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Grace had been a staunch member of the Anglican church -
indeed I can distinctly remember going regularly to Sunday
School and on summer outings organised by the local church.
She later said that what made her stop in her tracks was that she
was asked, ‘What does the Lord’s Prayer mean?’ Despite years
of church attendance, she found that she was unable to answer.
Further discussions with the two Witnesses ensued. Grace kept
the magazines that they left with her and on the front covers was
written first, ‘Mrs Wray’, then ‘Grace’, then ‘Sister Wray’ as her
interest grew and she was baptised into a new religion in 1952.
Right, Margaret Beagle who visited Grace with Molly (left) and
Margaret’s husband, Glen Howe (a Canadian lawyer who
fought many cases in his home country representing Witnesses
and fighting for their rights).
Her conversion created tensions in her family life and among her circle of friends. True to form, Grace
didn’t hold back from telling her relations and friends about her new views. One of her cousins (a
church organist) recounts that Grace sent him a copy of the New World Translation of the Greek
Scriptures. She probably sent similar gifts to several relatives, which went down like a ‘lead balloon’
with those who were set in their religious ways.
I find this deeply sad as Grace clearly loved her family (as evidenced by the many photographs she
treasured) and had strong bonds with them, but these were strained by her new and usually
misunderstood religious beliefs.
Also, her husband (who had his own agenda in the evenings) was antagonized by her religion, which
was considered by many to be an undesirable sect with extreme and controversial views. I recall
during one row that Sam, out of the blue and to Grace’s amazement, described the witnesses as
communists (a commonly-held misconception of the time due their their non-involvement in World
War II).
To fill the void in her life which was left by her disappearing family, Grace made several new friends
among the witnesses where she was a popular figure.
Sometime in the mid-nineteen fifties, Grace sat down with me to explain a further dramatic change in
her outlook. It is a belief of Jehovah’s Witnesses that, while an unlimited number of people will enjoy
future life on a paradise earth, they will be governed from heaven by a strictly limited group of humans
who die and are resurrected. Their number, they believe, is set at 144,000 in the book of Revelation
and is selected by God. A requirement is that they should remain as faithful Christians until their
death.
As there are seven million practicing Jehovah’s Witnesses, it might be thought that to be ‘called by
God’ for future heavenly life from such a vast number would be unusual and perhaps indicates
exceptional qualities.
Grace told me that she believed that ‘her hope for the future had been changed’ and that, following
her death, she was eagerly looking forward to life in heaven as one of the 144,000 rulers, rather than
life on a paradise earth. A consequence of this dramatic change was that her new hope dominated her
thoughts and life.
Making ends meet
There followed a time of struggling to make ends
meet. Grace’s father died in 1954. His estate was
divided equally between Grace and her brother,
Pat. She fought to stay in a semi-detached home
(right) that they could not possibly afford on the
paltry wages of a gas company ganger (who was
only happy when he had his beer, cigarette and
spending money).
In 1958, the family moved to the terraced 4
Beresford Road, North End (far right) which
Grace bought outright for £1525 - from her share
of her father’s estate. Sam (making no
contribution to the purchase) ungraciously
described it as ‘a rabbit’s hutch’. How Grace must have cringed on the few occasions that her
relatives visited her new home!
To make ends meet, Grace had a succession of menial part-time jobs - at Marks and Spencer, in a
pet shop and at a laundrette to which she would cycle. Her children were growing up and there were
the usual pressures between mother and offspring which were heightened by her husband’s
disinterest in family matters. Grace virtually raised her children on her own and inevitably there were
problems, particularly with her daughter, as Grace found it hard to deal with a world of changing
values. Despite this, Grace said later that she ‘enjoyed bringing the children up’.
Her two children left Portsmouth and married. Sam retired in 1971. Despite these changes, life for
Grace didn’t vary very much. She was absorbed with her faith: attending meetings three times a
week, studying the Bible and enjoying her house-to-house ministry. After Sam died in 1994, she lived
on her own bolstered by her friends. She spent time with her son and his family also her brother, who
was now living nearby at Bognor
Grace’s death
In 1996, Grace was diagnosed as having cancer of the colon. Part
of the offending organ was removed. When visited on the next day
at Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Cosham she was amazingly sitting in a
chair with a cheerful smile on her face. She made a full recovery,
putting on weight and enjoying a good quality of life for five years.
Then, in September 2001, she fell heavily on the way to a religious
meeting and broke her elbow. This spelled the end as cancer took a
grip through her body and although miraculously experiencing no
pain, she died on 20 January 2002. Her children and brother had
assembled at her home and several members of her congregation
called to say, ‘Farewell’. She was cremated at Fareham Crematorium. For Grace, death opened the
portal to immortal life in heaven where she would be one of the ‘kingdom of priests’
Her brother described her as honest and sincere. He said that, like her father, she was outspoken
which sometimes worked to her detriment Many times after hearing about one of her conversations, I
would say to her, ‘But you can’t say that to people, Mum’ and she responded, ‘Well, I will!’. In that
respect and also if she found herself ‘in a corner’ she could be stubborn and intractable. Once she
had made a decision, it was ‘set in stone’ for better or for worse - which was certainly true of her
decision to marry Sam.
Once she had committed herself to such an incongruous marriage, she was resolved to fulfill her
responsibilities as a wife. However, her true feelings toward Sam can be gauged by her first will of
1967. She was the sole owner of 4 Beresford Road and she stipulated that if she predeceased Sam,
he could continue to live in the house, paying rates and insurance etc. But that if he did not keep to
the terms of the will or remarried then the house was to be sold and the proceeds equally divided
between Sam and her two children.
The first impression of people when they met Grace was that she was well spoken. Possibly because
of her deafness, her voice was powerful and many times I had to ask her to speak more quietly. She
liberally sprinkled her comments with middle-class vocabulary – ‘I jolly well will!’; ‘It hurt like billy-oh!’.
She was outstandingly enthusiastic, cheerful and outgoing in her manner. When answering the
phone, she announced her number with a lift in her voice. She answered the door when she was
expecting someone singing out, ‘I’m coming!’. Even bringing my breakfast in bed was a joyous event.
On the day before her death, she heard my sister and I talking about getting somewhere and she
burst into song, ‘Get me to the church on time’.
Grace lived to serve others uncomplainingly and worked hard to please people. Whenever I stayed
with her I left feeling guilty because I felt she had given far more than I had reciprocated. Sometimes,
her unreserved nature might drain her and she might become tired and a little short-tempered.
Grace - the person
She would hide her true feeling about people and events so as not to hurt
others feelings. Many was the time we discovered how she really felt about
something when overhearing her talking to someone else and her comments
did not tally with what we had been told.
Mealtimes personified Grace’s background. She was not ‘a Mrs Beeton’. Her
rock cakes and jam tarts which she persisted in cooking were memorable for
non-culinary reasons and she never mastered the art of cooking a fried
breakfast.
Yet she was fastidious in her presentation. Toast was always slotted into a rack, marmalade was
spooned into a special pot, serviettes were provided and even breakfast in bed was served with
teapot, milk jug and a basin of sugar. I believe this attention to detail reflected her upbringing.
Physically Grace was not especially feminine or delicate. She was left handed and slightly inclined to
clumsiness. She had broad shoulders and, when younger, she would tie back her shoulders with
stockings to try to prevent them becoming rounded. Even just before her death, it was an effort to lift
and support her.
In the interest of balance, I have to write that Grace’s daughter does not have a particularly pleasant
memory of her childhood at home. During her teenage years she feels that her mother did not deal
well with the vicissitudes of puberty and issues such as what clothes she could wear. She recalls that,
‘Mum was never there for me’, and that she was ‘left to her own devices’ or ‘given chores to do while
Mum was out preaching’.
Their relationship was marred by Grace’s religion which her daughter rejected when a teenager. I
also sense that Grace was inclined to favour boys more than girls. Having mentioned this, as a
testament to her sense of right and wrong, Grace left her estate equally between her two children -
which was much to her daughter’s surprise.
Grace had a ‘blind-spot’ when it came to remembering names of people and places. If she wanted to
recall an area she visited, she would note it in a diary and when meeting people after a period of time
she would go through their names before-hand - and then still get them muddled. The sort of typical
mistake she would make would be to call Winston Churchill, William.
She had a good sense of humour. If something tickled her, she was uncontrollable, silently rocking
with laughter until tears came into her eyes.
I have described her religious faith and commitment. She was an
exceptionally keen student to the point of obsession - constantly making and
keeping notes. When one Bible was worn out, she would painstakingly copy
all her notes into a new copy. Her last Bible was swollen with many sheets of
notes which she compiled from lectures and articles (see below). After her
death several people asked for her Bible as a keepsake.
My overwhelming memory of Grace is of a caring, selfless and vibrant mother
who was not without her faults but these were dwarfed by her empathy and
kindness.
Postscript
A few years ago I wrote an autobiography in which I described Grace winning a race at my Junior
School Sportsday. She was given a prize of a box of Milk Tray chocolates - which didn’t compensate
for the stockings she ruined during the run. I found this reported in the Portsmouth Eveneing News
Jun 1954, when she would have been forty-two years old:
In around 2005 (and out of the blue) I received a cheque from the Prudential Assurance Company for
£1,565. It was an unclaimed amount for an insurance policy that Grace had taken out on 18 February
1946, a month after my birth, which had accrued compound interest. She had religiously paid premiums
of 3½ d a month
Top
Grace and her grandmother
at Stoke Newington in 1935
1937
My maternal ancestors
My mother: Grace Edith Wray (nee Mills)
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