Searching for Him
Editor’s Introduction
I am Robert Leyton-Cartright, III, the eighth Viscount of Devonshire. My husband, Max, and I decided to open a bed and breakfast in my ancestral home, Pickwickhurst, in Devonshire, UK.
The grand manor house hasn’t been occupied for many
years and needed updating so it could function as a B & B. We cleaned out the estate
manager’s cottage so we had a place to live while the renovations on the manor house were
underway. In the attic of the cottage I found a dusty pasteboard box full of my Great-Uncle
Michael’s papers. In the box I found a memoir or remembrance. I couldn’t determine
exactly when Uncle Michael wrote the memoir. However, since events in the 1930’s were
described I assumed it was about that time. I could not help myself and much to Max’s
chagrin immersed myself in the manuscript.
Some weeks later when the permits from the town council were finally received so the renovation could get underway I sat with my morning cup of tea in the estate manager’s cottage holding Uncle Michael’s dusty memoir. I thought if I found his story fascinating, then perhaps others would enjoy it as well. The chapters that follow are Uncle Michael’s exact words except for some minor edits I made. The story starts with my grandfather who was called Robbie, traveling to America with my great uncle, Michael.
I need to clarify. As I mentioned in my opening sentence I am the eighth Viscount of Devonshire. By rights the title belongs to my Great-Uncle Michael’s oldest son but Great-Uncle Michael didn’t marry. After his death the title passed to my grandfather, then to my father and about five years ago to me. Also, when I first read the story it had the title “Remembrances”. I chose a different title “Searching for Him - An Englishman’s Queer Odyssey” because I thought it better described the real story.
As Uncle Michael wrote in Chapter 1, he got his inspiration for the remembrance from “Day Books” kept by his grandmother. At her death he inherited the diaries which he kept in his house in Piccadilly. Much of Piccadilly was destroyed during WWII so I suspect the books were burned. Regardless, I will put an inquiry into the British National Library on the chance that they were recovered. It would be so interesting to read about my 19th century great-great-grandmother’s life in her own words.