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CHAPTER SIX.
INTRODUCING MY PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER,
ELLEN ROFF, (1880 - 1964),
TOGETHER WITH HER RELATIVES
THE  ROFF   AND  COLLINS  FAMILIES.

As previously explained, my paternal Grandmother had been married twice.  Her first husband was John Mills, who my true Grandfather;  whilst her second husband, Arthur Joy, was my step-grandfather.

However, as can be seen from the following details, taken from the copy of my Gran's birth certificate,  she was born on the 12 March 1880, to my Great Grandparents, Edwin Roff and Catherine Collins, who had named her Ellen Roff.

At the time of her birth my Great Grandparents were living at No. 4, Hill Street, in Old town, Croydon, which was another poor area of Croydon, and home to a mainly Irish community.  It was a similar to the  'Bang'ole' area where my Great Grandmother Emily Mills was living in 1896.

Many of the houses in Old Town were wooden, although I do believe that her family's home in Hill Street was built of bricks and mortar ---- not that it was a particularly grand affair. The following picture, although not showing the actual house where she was born, does gives an indication as to the sort of house an area that they were living in.

The  houses in the picture are of Nos 11-14, Hill Street, so it seems reasonable to assume that No. 4, where my Gran was born, would have looked somewhat similar.  The street no longer exists today.  It disappeared before I was born, back in the 1930's, after a Housing Act which was introduced, allowing the compulsory purchase and clearance of the more dilapidated parts of Croydon ---- many of which seemed to be in Old Town.

Hill Street, itself, used to run from Old Town ---- which in actual fact was the name of a road ---- up towards a place called Duppas Hill.  The houses were built at right angles to the road. It was a method which enabled 19th century house-builders to cram as many houses as possible onto the smallest plot of land ---- irrespective of the overcrowding that it caused.

The houses depicted in the picture had a narrow concrete path from the roadway in front of the houses, thereby separating them from the yard, where they would hang out their washing to dry.  Fencing and privacy from one's neighbours was non-existent!

As a little boy, my Dad used to take me swimming at Scarbrook Road Swimming Baths, and to get there, we would walk along Old Town.  As I write this, I can remember  ---- as well as seeing him in my mind's eye ---- pointing across the road and telling me that was where his Mum was born.  I used to make the appropriate noises as though I was interested, but at that time, I was more interested in going for a swim, and had no room to accommodate such facts.  What I wouldn't give to be able to ask him questions now!

Hill Street itself, was just a stone's throw from another notorious area called Salem's Place, and only a few minutes walk from a slum area called Middle Row,  situated in a triangle of streets bordered by the High Street, Surrey Street and Crown Hill.

Middle Row didn't cover a very large area, and consisted of a network of narrow streets and alleys as shown in following pictures, which lay in a triangle, bordered by Surrey Street, Crown Hill and Croydon's High Street.

Some of the properties were houses, which sometimes had more than a dozen people living in them. Other buildings were lodging houses, each with an average of 24 occupants. Prostitutes were rife in the area and the lodging houses; although, the better conducted lodgings were run by Italians, who tended to provide accommodation for their fellow countrymen, who it seems had congregated in that area.

During the mid 1890's some of the properties in the area of Middle Row were demolished and the area was opened up somewhat. To house some of the people that lost their homes or lodgings, other 14 places were made available in the area by Mint Walk.  A hostel was also built, just over half a mile away, at Pitlake Bridge.  It was designed to accommodate about 64 men and 34 women.  Trouble is, the women were unable to ply their trade from the hostel, and soon moved elsewhere.  The hostel then became a 'men only' establishment, which was still in operation during my childhood, right up until the 1950's.

As a kid, I was always told to be careful as I walked past the hostel, as the men that stayed there were a pretty unsavoury crowd. I must admit, irrespective of whether it was day or night, there always seemed to be a crowd of rowdy drunken men loitering on the pavement outside. I used to think that my young friends must have been given the same advice by their parents, because I can remember us always crossing the road near the bottom of Pitlake,  so that we didn't actually walk past the entrance to the hostel.  We didn't normally take any heed of parental advice, so I'm not sure if their advice was actually taken, or whether it was the fact that immediately after the hostel, the pavement on that side of the road came to an end.  It was therefore essential to cross over to the pavement opposite, at the narrowest point of the road ----- i.e., just before the 'dreaded' hostel.

How long my Great Grandparents had lived in Hill Road, before Gran was born, isn't known.   However, a year later, at the time of the 1881 census, the family had moved house and was found to be living at Lees Villas, Newark Road, in  South Croydon. From that census, it was noticed that Gran had an elder brother, Edwin H. Roff, who was 3 years old at the time.  That particular census return also shows that Gt. Grandad Roff  was working as  a bricklayer's labourer.

Great Grannie and Great Grandad Roff went on to have twelve children: -

In the 1891 Census for Croydon, I found that 11year-old Ellen Roff was living at home with her family in a house at 18, Leighton Street West, which lay between Mitcham Road and Handcroft Road.  The household consisted of:-

According to the odd bits of information that I have gleaned over the years, the Roff's were a very boisterous bunch, gathering at Great Grannie Roff's home, to make merry, with lots of drinking, dancing and singing. Unfortunately, such parties invariably caused the men to be arrested and locked up on a Saturday night for being drunk and disorderly.

Great Grandad Roff, although said to be a brickworker's labourer on the 1881 census return, had, at some stage, been  kicked in the head by a horse. The accident left him very feeble health-wise and,  for the rest of his life, he was unable to gain regular employment.  

Due to his inability to hold down a proper job, the family was very hard-up, and had to apply for 'Poor Relief' so that they could have food to put on the table.  To entitle him to claim such 'Relief,' he would have to go and break stones that would be used for the repairing roads. Great Grannie Roff, in an effort to provide for her family, worked long hours, from very early in the mornings, scrubbing shop doorsteps and polishing etc.  Nevertheless, it was still sometimes necessary for my Gran, who was still a young girl, together go with one of her younger sisters to the workhouse, to ask for a dole of foodstuffs, because there was nothing to eat at home, and no money to buy any.

Because Gt. Grandad Roff did not always have work, he would sit at home and get under his wife's feet.  In an effort to keep out of her way, and not incur her wrath, he used to go and hide himself in their cellar, out of harms way.  When all else failed, he could sometimes be found standing outside The Black Boy public house in Mitcham Road, talking to himself, and waiting for the pub to open.  Quite where he got the money to buy beer isn't known ---- but it is a noted fact that when people were poor, they  turned to alcohol  ---- and there is no doubt that Croydon had  serious poverty and drink problems in those days.

'The Black Boy' pub that Great Grandad Roff frequented was still around when I was a lad.  It used to have a sign hanging outside showing a young black African boy.  Presumably in today's 'politically correct' society, if it is still a pub, it has probably had to change its name.

In my childhood, there used to be a 'request' bus stop close by the pub.  At that time, the bus conductors always used to shout out the name of the next stop that the bus would be coming to ---- which was one of life's useful little niceties that now seem to have largely disappeared.  As the bus neared the stop, the bus conductor's cheery voice would ring out loud and clear  'ANYBODY FOR THE DIRTY BOY'?

By the time I came into the world, Great Grandad Roff had been dead for many a long year, so I never ever met him.  Great Grannie Roff, however, was still alive when I was born, and she lived on her own, just around the corner from where I lived with my Mum and Dad.

She lived in a block of council flats at No.4, Leighton Gardens, which was just off of the Sumner Road.  My Mum would sometimes pop round to see her, and take me along with her.  It was not something I actually enjoyed doing.  She was very old, and was about 81 years of age when I was born.  She died, in 1946, at the age of 89.  In my mind's eye, she was very little, quite wizened with age, and always wore long black dresses that dragged along the ground as she walked ---- and was very witch-like to my young eyes.  I can't ever remember her talking to me, but there again, it was still the era when children had 'to be seen and not heard', so unless an adult actually spoke to you directly, you hardly ever spoke to them first.

Having said that, even at the age she was, her home was absolutely spotless, and every time that I visited her, she always seemed to be preparing a dinner for about half a dozen people.  She had a large dining table which would be covered in an incredibly white tablecloth, stiff with starch, and not a crease to be seen anywhere.  The table was neatly set out with seemingly the best cutlery, china and glasses, as though there was going to be a banquet.  When I now reflect on how immaculately her dinner table seemed to have been set out, I somehow find it hard to come to terms that she spent a goodly part of her life in  poverty. However, in contrast to Great Grannie Roff's immaculately arranged dining table, her cooking of greens or cabbage in a large old black saucepan ---- somewhat reminiscent of a witch's cauldron ---- left a lot to be desired.  The smell of the greens bubbling away on her gas stove was quite revolting, and has lingered long in my nostrils.

I don't know who her guests were likely to have been, but I should imagine that one was definitely Bob Collins, her blind brother, who lived, in an old cottage, just around the corner from her in Mitcham Road.  'Blind' Bob, was my Dad's Great Uncle, and was always known  to me  as Uncle Bob.  My Dad would always stop and chat to him, whenever he came across the old chap sitting on the low garden wall outside the cottage where he lived.  Uncle Bob would sit on his wall for hours, passing the time with his cronies.  He was about seven years younger than Gt. Grannie Roff, but because he walked with a stick, he always seemed older and more stooped than her.  I was terrified of him.  To me, when I saw him tapping his way along the road with his stick, he seemed to be the very incarnation of  'Blind Pugh', as depicted in Robert Louis Stevenson's book, Treasure Island.  Unlike my Dad, if I ever saw Uncle Bob, sitting on his garden wall, I would always make a large detour so that I didn't have to pass him.  Somehow, it always escaped my childish mind, because he was blind, that he wouldn't have been able to see me pass by.

Great Grannie Roff died, on the 18 March 1946, she passed away at 66a, Queens Road, Croydon, at the age of 89.   The address where she passed away, was by then a hospital for the elderly, although it was still classed as the workhouse by the older generation.   

Almost forty years after Gt. Grannie Roff passed away, my own mother still viewed the building in Queens Road as a workhouse/geriatric hospital.  Mum was absolutely terrified that she might have to end her days in there.  I'm happy to say, that she never did!

I cannot recall my Gran, Grannie Joy, ever talking to me about her mother. Nor, for that matter, can I ever remember, when she chatted with my Mum and Dad, hearing her tell them that she'd  visited her own mother either in her home at No. 4, Leighton Gardens, or whilst she was staying in the Queens Road homes.  Mind you, I don't actually remember hearing my parents speak about visiting Great Grannie Roff's whilst she was in the home, or talking about her death. I suppose that all of them must have talked about it, and in all probability, at least my Dad and his Mum would have attended her funeral.  

I can recall them talking about other people that had died, i.e., neighbours and friends; especially during the war years.    So, quite how the death of my Great Grandma  passed me by unnoticed, is a bit of a mystery. In 1946, when Great Gran died, my own Mum was  suffering with various pains and sickness that culminated in her going into hospital to have one of her kidneys removed.  At the same time, I disappeared into hospital myself, to have operations carried out on my lip and palate. ( Note: I won't go into anymore about myself at this stage, suffice to say that I was born with a harelip and cleft palate, and will write about my own life in another booklet later on).

I suppose that what with my Mum being unwell, and us both disappearing into different hospitals at the same time ---- Mum in Croydon ---- and me, just outside of Southampton ---- there was quite a lot  going on in my young life at that time.  It's quite on the cards, they refrained from telling me that Great Grannie Roff had died in hospital, in case they thought I would link 'dying' with hospitals and perhaps worry 'unnecessarily'!

Sadly, I have very few memories of my Great Gran ---- other than the fact I was terrified of her, even though she never did anything to hurt me.       

Gt. Grannie Roff's side of the family, the Collins's, were said to be just as rowdy as their counterparts, the Roff's.  Consequently, they also spent many a Friday or Saturday night, in cells at the local police station, for brawling and drunkenness.  I wonder how her father, Dennis Collins, who was a policeman himself, would have felt about that!  As I understand it, the poor man had been invalided out of the police service, due to a leg injury that he had sustained.  I take it that his injury must have got worse after leaving the police force, because later on he became confined to his bed. As a consequence, his daughter,  Gt. Grannie Roff, took him into her own home, to care for him.  It is said, that  Gt. Gt. Grandad had a long beard, which Gt. Grannie Roff would comb for him, and afterwards, would lay it out neatly over the sheets.  Eventually, the old chap's leg degenerated further, and set itself at a peculiar angle. When he died, it is said that they had to break his gammy leg so as to be able to put him in a coffin.

My Gran, together with her sister Caroline, tried to distance themselves from their other brothers and sisters, and remained fairly close to one another.  In fact, I cannot remember Caroline or many of Gran's other siblings, other than having vague memories of her sister, Margaret (Aunt 'Mag'), and their brother, George.  However, the memories are extremely vague, and to my mind, Aunt 'Mag' and Uncle George only came into existence for me towards the end of their own lives, when they made a rare visits to Gran's home ---- or an even rarer visit to ours.  Below is a picture of  Great Grannie Roff , with her brother, George Roff,  and his partner ( unknown), sitting on the sands at the seaside, in 1938 --- the same year that I was born.

As  I mentioned previously, my Gran was married twice; her second husband being Arthur Joy. And now, seeing that I have just identified him in the picture on the previous page, I will briefly mention that their marriage produced a daughter, who was called Caroline Joy. The consequence of which, meant that my Dad and his sister Carrie, were half brother and sister to one another.  Later, when Carrie married a Kenneth Waters, they also had a daughter, who they called Anne Waters.  She is my only cousin  from my Dad's side of the family, and now lives under her married name of Anne Newsome. I suppose in strictly speaking, we are not proper cousins but merely half-cousins to each other.  

I will come to mention my cousin Anne again a little later on, but it seems right to introduce her here, since ---- as unbeknown to me ---- she has been researching her own parent's background, for many years.  Consequently, she had managed to trace our mutual Grandmother's family ---- the Roff's and Collins's ---- back over several centuries ---- to the mid 1600's.   The lines of descent from the earliest members of those families can be seen in the Family Tree's at the end of this book.  I have not checked Anne's findings, but from the letters we have exchanged over the past couple of years, she seems to have been quite thorough in her research, and I have no reason to doubt her findings.

Apparently the earliest members of the Roff family that my cousin has managed to trace, are Henry Roff and his wife Anne, who  were possibly born, married and died in the area around Caterham, Surrey.  She hasn't managed to locate their dates of birth, but has managed to discover that Henry died in 1690, and his wife, some 26years later, in 1716.  They had four children, Edmond (b.1664), William (b.1666), Nathan (b.1678) and Mary (b.1679).  Assuming Henry and Anne were similar in age, and they were about 20 years old when their first child was born, they themselves might have been born c.1646.

Prior to my great Grandparents, Edwin Roff and Catherine Collins, who were both born in the mid 1800's, I have no idea what my father's earliest Roff ancestors were like. Presumably they all came from humble origins, and like me, possibly never did anything that was likely to have them remembered for posterity. Having said that,  their lives threaded their way through some fantastic periods in our country's history, and for that reason  alone, I see them as 'heroes' that must have endured times of great hardship. For example, various members of the family had lived through two English Civil Wars, the Great Plague of London which caused 60,000 deaths in 1665, and in the following year, the Great Fire of London.  If only I'd known this when I was learning history at school I would have listened more intently to my teachers!

From at least the early 1600's it would seem that the Roff's were born, and lived out their lives in an area 10 miles to the south of Croydon, encompassing Coulsdon, Caterham, Chaldon and Nutfield.

Although they had houses and a growing populations, they were still very rural areas even when I was a child; they were the sort of  places one would be taken as a child  for picnics, school outings, or scout camps.   Back in the 1600's, with the limited population in the country in those days, those areas must have seemed very remote and with  hardly any inhabitants.

Quite what occupations the Roff's had in the 1600's to the 1800's isn't known, but presumably they would have been involved in working on the land, or possibly looking after pigs and cattle. By the middle of the 1800's part of the family had moved from the surrounding area into Croydon itself, which was by then a very fast growing market town.

My cousin Anne has kept in touch with Josie Benn (née Josie Doe),  who is now in her eighties, and was a cousin to my Dad and Anne's mother.  Josie, was the daughter of Gran's sister Caroline. All three of them, appear in the picture shown on page 49 ---- Josie is the little girl whose head appears in the front, at the bottom of the photo.  

Anyway, Josie has also had an interest in the Roff family and has made notes of all the Roff's listed in various Croydon directories from about 1851 through to 1939. In the main, they were predominately involved as Pig or Cattle Dealers, Cow- keepers, Dairymen or Pork Butchers. There are some exceptions, where one  worked in a factory,  another in a dyers and cleaners,  and of course Gt. Grandad Edwin Roff, whose name does not appear in any of the directories, who was a bricklayer's labourer.

Listed in the printed blurb, on a copy of an old Ordnance Survey Map of Central Croydon in 1895, a J.V. Roff, owned a butcher's shop at 13, Church Street, Croydon. It was situated on the left-hand side the stretch of road, now known as Crown Hill, which led down from Croydon's North End towards Surrey Street Market.

By the 1930's the Roff family had several butcher shops in Croydon. One was at one at 35, Surrey Street, which appears in the following picture, and another at 26, Lower Church Street, and a third at 37, Waddon Road.

The following is a table of all the Roffs and Collins of Croydon, which have appeared in various Croydon Directories, from the early 1800's to the mid 1940's.  Which, according to my cousin Anne and Josie Doe are   related to the them and to  me.

Great Grannie Roff's own ancestors, the Collins family appear to have originated in Ireland. My cousin Anne's research shows that our 3 x Great Grandparents were James Collins who was born in Limerick c.1798, and his wife Ann, who was born in Cork, c.1796.  I suppose, because of these origins and since Great Grannie Roff's family were devout Catholics it was inevitable that my cousin Anne and I, were destined to be born into the Catholic faith. I don't know how strong a Catholic my cousin is these days, but I personally am very 'lapsed', to the extent that I cannot really call myself one!

The fact that myself, my Dad and my Gran's family were all Catholics, should I suppose have given me some indication that we were probably of Irish descent.  However, until my cousin Anne told me that our 3 x Great Grandparents were Irish, I had never given the subject much thought.  Of the few Irish people that I have come into contact with over the years, I can't say that I disliked them, but the ones that I knew seemed to be extremely strict family-wise when it came to bringing up their children. Some others, that I've known more casually, have sometimes seemed off-hand to the point of rudeness. But there again, I know plenty of  English people who are like that!

Right from my school days,  I was always aware that the English and the Irish have never seen eye to eye with one another. Ever since we set foot in their country 800 years ago there has always been a constant undercurrent of trouble caused by our presence there. There have been rights and wrongs on both sides, and even I can see that there have been occasions when our behaviour towards them  has left a lot to be desired. I also feel certain, that if the boot had been on the other foot we would have felt just the same as them.    

I cannot say that anything to do with England's activities in Ireland  over the years  is much to be proud of, nor, if I  am honest, am I very impressed with the way some of our English forebears have treated other countries in the past. However, sometimes good has come from our intrusion into their lives, but on the whole, much of the dissension we have with countries today stems from the decisions taken by our predecessors several hundred years ago.

Although I can well understand the grievances that some countries have towards us, I cannot in anyway condone the violence that is perpetrated today on innocent people, in an effort  to revenge what happened in the past.  Ideally, I would like everybody to be able to wipe the slate clean, and start afresh, putting all past grievances behind them. Sadly that is easier said than done!  When you look into ordinary families ---- disagreements that occurred many years ago still rankle within those families today ---- even though the current generation wasn't necessarily around  at that time the disagreement took place! Nevertheless, although it might be an uphill struggle to rectify the wrongs of the past, we certainly shouldn't give up on trying to make things better for all concerned.

It was in 1796, in Co. Cork, Southern Ireland, my 3 times Gt. Grandma, Ann Collins, was born.  In the latter part of that same year, inspired by a group of United Irishmen and a fervently patriotic Irishman called Theobald Wolfe Tone, the French sent an armada of ships and men with the explicit intention of expelling the English from Ireland.  The French had agreed to this plan because it had long been their objective to destabilize the English government and its people.  The armada consisting of more than forty French warships and 15,000 soldiers, set sail from the port of Brest, on the 15 December 1796, bound for Bantry Bay in Cork.

Quite why they chose to make this attack in the middle of winter is not clear.  The mission fell foul of bad weather and poor communications. The frigate Fraternite, with a French Admiral and a Commander -in' chief  aboard, became separated from the main fleet, another vessel sank and ten more were blown several hundred miles off course. By the time the remaining ships got to Bantry Bay the winds were so strong and unfavourable it was impossible for the vessels to land. The weather continued to badly hamper the ships and the mission was finally aborted on the 29 December 1796.

Further unrest followed in Ireland a few years later, when the English introduced the Act of Union.  Effectively, the Act abolished the Irish Parliament, and instead united Ireland with Great Britain to become the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.  Consequently, numerous revolts took place throughout Ireland because of the ever increasing numbers of poor and homeless people.  Apparently, those Englishmen that held land in Ireland quickly realized that they could derive more profit from their land by turning it over to grazing land, than renting it out to Irish tenant farmers.  Because of that, they evicted thousands of tenant farmers and their families, destroying their homes in the process and forcing them onto the streets.   

Whilst all this was taking place in Ireland, my 3 x Great Grandparents James and Ann Collins had married and started a family of their own. They had four children, Margaret, (b.1825/6 in Cork), Ellen (b.1827 in Ireland), Dennis (b. in Ireland c.1830) and James, who was born in Fulham, London c.1834/35. Since the last one was born in London, it would appear that James and Ann Collins, must have come and settled in England at some stage. I don't know if their children Margaret and Ellen also accompanied them to England, but thanks to  my cousin Anne's findings, it would appear that their third child, Dennis, remained in Ireland until about 1852, before coming to England.  

My cousin Anne has told me, according to her mother and Josie Doe, Dennis Collins was supposed to have come over to England to escape The Potato Famine in Ireland. Having been over here for awhile he wanted to get married, and a Catholic girl was 'called' over from Ireland to become his bride. However, since the actual Potato Famine occurred between 1845-1848, and he didn't arrive in London until 1852, that belief may not be quite right. Although it must be said, that the famine did have long term  effects on the Irish, and could well have been one of the reasons for coming over to England.

Actually, my cousin Anne,  during her researches, discovered that  Dennis Collins had come over to London to marry a girl called Ellen Russell, who had been born in England of Irish parents. That marriage took place took place on the 18 July 1852, and ultimately they were to become Anne's and my Great Great Grandparents.

I wonder, did the Collins family have to come to England because of what the English had been doing in Ireland?  If so, surely they must have disliked  the English?  And, if they did dislike them, I wonder why they decided  to settle here, in preference to making new lives for themselves in America, Canada or Australia.  This is just a curiosity thought on my part, and not because I have any adverse feelings towards the Irish.  After all, if my 3 x Great Grandparents hadn't decided to settle here in England, neither I, my cousin Anne, Josie Doe, nor our respective families, past and present, would have come into being. What a loss that would have been to the world!

Anyway, Dennis Collins and Ellen Russell's marriage did take place and in the due passage of time, they  produced seven children, one of whom was Catherine Collins, born at Clapham in 1856, and who went onto become our Great Grandma when she married Edwin Roff in 1876.

By the time the 1901 census came along, some of the Roff's and Collins' families 're-appear' in various houses that were in Leighton Street West, in Croydon.  On that particular census night of the 31st March and 1st April 1901, the following family members were found to be living at No. 18, Leighton Street:-

Of the eleven children that my Great Grandparents had, only six of them were living with their parents on that census night.  Of those that were missing, namely Edwin (jnr) --- age 23; Ellen (my Gran) ---- age 21; Catherine ---- age 20; Mabel ---- age 14; Jane ( who had died in 1891 age 6); Lily ( who wasn't born until 1902).

It was possible that Gran (Ellen), and her sisters Catherine and Mabel, were all working in service, and living at their places of employment on that census night, and that is the reason for them not being at the family home.

Further checking of the 1901 census at other houses in Leighton Street, revealed that Edwin Roff (jnr), who was also missing from the family home on that census night was living a few doors away.  The census return shows that he was 23 years old, employed as a bricklayer's labourer,  married and living at No. 12, Leighton Street with his wife Alice ----- age 26, and their two daughters, Florence ---- age 3 years and little Alice ---- age 11 months.

According to the 1901 census return, for the family home at 18, Leighton Street West, there was also shown, a 2 year-old daughter called Maud Roff, which tends to indicate that she had been  born towards the end of 1898.  A check on the 1837 Online Website  told me that there was indeed a Maud Roff, who was born in Croydon, and registered in the October-December Quarter of 1898, under GRO reference Volume 2a ' Page 275.   

Another look at the census returns from 'down that street', also showed that Great Grannie Roff's parents,  Dennis and Ellen Collins were still alive and living at No. 11, Leighton Street.  Both were said to be 71 years of age, and  Dennis's occupation, even at that age, showed that he was a bricklayer's labourer. I must confess that came as some surprise to me, since my cousin Anne's own researches had shown him to be a policeman.  Apparently she is able to support the fact that he was  a policeman, since she has a copy of Grannie Roff''s, i.e., Catherine Collins, birth certificate, which shows her father's occupation.

I also did a name search for my Gran, Ellen Roff, under the 1901 Census, and to my delight I found that she was working as a live-in Domestic Servant at a house in No 39,  Wellesley Road, Croydon.  The occupants of that house were shown on the census return as follows:-

Anne has also told me that she managed  to get hold of Gt. Gt. Grandad Dennis Collins's record as a policeman, and that it shows when he left the force ---- but apparently it doesn't say why he left!  If he was discharged  from the force as a result of receiving the injury to his leg  ----- the 'leg', that on his death, had to be 'broken' to enable the undertakers get him into his coffin ----  he would probably still have needed to work to support himself and his wife.  After all, in those days there was no such thing as disability pensions or unemployment benefit to be had. Quite why he became a brickie's labourer having been a policeman is a bit of a mystery ---- but maybe it was the only work available to him!

I had hoped that the 1891 and 1901 census returns might have thrown something up that would possibly indicate 'when and where'? Ellen Roff might have met her future husband, John Mills----  but unfortunately  that hasn't been the case.  In my mind I'd hoped that  their two families might, at some stage, have lived in the same road and that they had possibly known each other from childhood. However, that doesn't seem to have been the case! Perhaps, if I keep on looking, something will eventually reveal itself, and shed a little light in that area. The fact that Grandad John Mills, prior to joining the Warspite, worked briefly in a drapery business, might indicate that they met there. Perhaps Gran brought something from the shop where he had worked! Who knows!

Anyway, it now seems a good time to move onto what little I know about  Gran and Grandad's short time together as a married couple.

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