June 3
Fabulous overnight spots seem offered to us more frequently the further we get from civilization. This morning we wake to a lone rock mountain whose base melts down in green to the lake shore. Water has light ripples from a mild wind. We start out on the road before breakfast and stop when our tummies are growling and the view is good. We have come to a sign that says Applecross, 38 miles! At this point we are in a Scottish park of hill paths and climbs in a mountainous wonderland...Beinn Eighe along Glenn Torridon. Many people are stopping to put on boots or more serious gear. Some of the Munro mountains of over 3000 feet are in this area. I have now completed rewriting the lost pieces in the first part of Scotland's blog. David has been sleeping for a few hours which is the best thing as he has contracted a cold. So we begin to drive again and the rain hits hard. Two people are walking in the downpour so we pick them up and take them to their destination....another great town in a bay. An island sits in the middle, rocky and covered with conifers. It looks like home! Our passengers who are two wonderful bubbly young people, tell us where we can buy freshly smoked salmon...and we find the shop up a path behind a house and choose two kinds...cold smoked and cut thin like the French prefer and cooked smoked thicker pieces that the Scots like. We take both! And devour the latter in the van in a matter of minutes. We drive past our exit to Applecross to check out Lochcarron. Another perfect line of homes, whitewashed, with little gardens at their front doors...all facing the sea loch. They even have a small grocery store which we use to stock up a few things as we are not sure about supplies in Applecross. The steep trip over the mountains to our destination is next on our days ride. We have been hearing about this ascent and descent from many people along the way. Bealach na Ba Pass. The drive almost takes us to the peak summit climbing through mountains inside-out! At least that is what it feels like. Being enfolded in mountainous rock. Steep sided cliffs, peaks of different shapes, lakes and sea way below. And the top is flat, a car park. From here you can see in all directions. It is the steepest up and down grade in Britain! One man said that he could not see the road in front of him, just the front of his car! Pointing to the sky! A bicyclist is getting ready to take the downhill ride. After a good look at the view we start down in low gear and arrive to a wooded grassy bay with a few houses along the water. The scene across the water is of the mountain peaks of Skye, with the island of Raasay in front. And the church in my memory still stands alone with its grave stones behind a stone wall. We see a sign, Lecture tonight...on Gaelic (gal-lic) speakers. Let's do that! After a short drive to explore the area we come back to the community hall and join the folks actually speaking English, a good thing for us! ( Gaelic is a very old language, older than English. 5000 years old.) The speaker tonight is Lewis MacKinnon, a bard (First Canadian voted King of the Bards in 2011), teacher and supporter of bringing the Gaelic language back into Nova Scotia. Along with other languages, Gaelic is supported by the government which he works for to facilitate this in any way he can. There is quite a strong link between Scotland and Canada and this is an important area where they learn from each other. This lecture is part of a week long Bardic School...where Gaelic poetry is the emphasis. Most of the participants are Gaelic speakers. After the lecture, we mingled with a cup of tea and I was put in touch with someone who could help me in my search for names of family who lived here before 1803. I am to meet Donald Cameron tomorrow at the Heritage Center at noon.
Which I do, with David along to fill in the spots that I forget and take photos that might be of interest. The center is by the old church. Donald is so helpful. I do not find the MacKenzie family names I want as the records of the churchyard graves and baptisms do not go back that far. Biographies of each stone are being done at this time by Donald so he is the one to ask. But we do find a bit of relevant information that I will put here for my family, the rest of you might want to skip this part.
My cousins, Craig and Louise, have done an excellent job of pulling together information on my father's mother's, Elsie Flora MacKenzie's family from 1803 when they arrived in PEI from Applecross. Well, I thought Applecross was just a little lovely quiet village on an extremely beautiful body of water. It turns out that Applecross is the whole peninsula, covering the areas of Applecross, Torridon, Lochcarron and Kishorn. All this land was acquired by Roderick MacKenzie, MacKenzie Laird (land owner) and was passed down to sons or nephews, a sister and almost a daughter who died before it came to her. There were 7 MacKenzie lairds in all and at the end, it finally passed to the son of the 7thlaird's sister's son. Whew! It was sold to the Duke of Leeds in 1857...then to a few others (Lord Middleton in 1864). The estate is now owned by a charitable trust. Our MacKenzie family did not live here in Applecross but in Cuaig, north of here. The family who left in 1803 as Selkirk settlers, to Prince Edward Island, was Alexander (a tailor) and wife Christy. They had two children who were born in Cuaig and their baptism dates were shown to me by Donald. John, September 16, 1798 and Margaret, February 15, 1800, Their third child, Ann was born in Canada in 1806. There has been some confusion about who it was that sailed on the Polly in 1803...though it is known that some were on the Polly . Perhaps Alexander and his five year old son John were on that boat and Christy and her daughter Margaret, came to PEI in 1805 when the daughter was 5 years old. Donald Cameron told me that it was the tradition to name the oldest son after the paternal grandfather, so that may be a clue as to who Alexander's father was. (Yikes! Another John MacKenzie!)
There is a lot of interesting history that still seeps out of the ground around the current old church. At this spot there was a monastery built by Maelrubha in 673, the second wave of Christianity brought from Ireland, the first being Columba at Iona. Some of the monastery still shows in the “vallum”, grass covered rock walls, around and in the graveyard. The monastery survived 120 years until the Vikings obliterated it. It is believed that Saint Maelrubha is buried in the far corner of the churchyard situated by two smallish round stones.
Applecross may be a Pictish word, the folks who were here before Christianity. It is supposed to mean mouth of the river Crossan. The river Crossan flows into the large bay mid way around. There seems no explanation for why Crossan was shortened to Cross. The name for this place in Gaelic is A'chomraish, meaning Sanctuary. A'chomraish, to my ears sounds a bit like it could have been changed by the English speakers to Applecross.
Before leaving the Heritage Center I bought some books and a DVD that will help me understand more and add to the information to pass down to the young people in the family. This is a very special soft “thin” place on the Scottish coast. One can still strongly feel the Gaelic past. There are many trails to hike. The red/pink beach empties out with the tide but is still a playground. There is a long circle of piled stones that looks man-made and we find out that it is a weir, built by the Mesolithic people to trap fish as the tide went out, just like the native people of Canada's west coast. Much of the bay is grassy at its edges. A fine place to park your car and pull out picnic food, blankets, books, chairs etc....which is what some folks do, and we did for a few hours. Snooze, read, go for walks.
In the evening at the old church, we heard poetry readings, first spoken in Gaelic and then in English. Three poets read to us. A Celtic harp was played by a red haired Scottish woman. We have been invited to attend any event we would like. Tomorrow evening we will attend a Ceilidh, but we have been warned that we should perform! We shall see about that! Home on the Range is the only folk song we think we are capable of singing.
July 5
There are a few commercial sites in this village. A pub and inn, a nice local craft store, a visitors center, kayak rentals and guides, a community owned gas station,a few cafes/restaurants. We find the Victorian Walled Garden next to the original MacKenzie Laird's estate. The potting shed has been turned into a really good restaurant, small deli and shop. Fresh ingredients come from the garden. A relaxed atmosphere...eat in or outside. The garden is a real treasure. It has many different species of plants in it but it is also casual, a tiny bit raggle taggle, not overly manicured and many flowers are in bloom. There are lots of places to sit and enjoy the flowers, birds and fuzzy big bees within the 11 foot high stone wall. Peter, the gardener, also keeps many raised beds for the kitchen use. We ate lunch (I had English Stilton cheese with mushrooms on a nice crusty roll). We remained at our table and used the wifi for a few hours (no pressure) until it was time for the ceilidh held in the community hall. Folks came by our table to say hi, ask us how we liked the poetry, are we having a nice time in Applecross, are we coming to the Ceilidh? It felt like we were beginning to belong to the community.
The CEILIDH! We have been to a few over the years, but this was so genuine. Many people sang for us, some told stories, a woman piper piped and marched in that soft swinging way they do, and another smaller pipe was played. We were at tables with beer, wine, hard liquor, tea or coffee (and at an intermission for the band to set up, homemade cookies and cakes!). We sat with new friend Morag and her father John. Also at our table were two other men, the fellows all over 80. They were all retired school masters and were having such good bantering fun together. It turned out that they were the very best dancers there...wonderful to watch. Easy practiced movements. The ceilidh band came from a few lochs away and knew how to keep up a great beat and vary their dance music; waltzes, two step, Canadian barn dances and other group dances that I do not remember the names of. Smiles on everyone's faces. It was most fun to watch the “King Bard” get up to dance with the lovely young (and strong) piper. She was about 5 inches taller than Lewis. He had not danced much before, if at all. She threw, pushed and pulled him around until he was beginning to “get it”. Usually quite serious, he kept a smile on his face also. They remained dancing partners through the night. Hey, you can't trust just anyone to throw you around! Morag was a very popular partner. And her dad took me on to the floor to teach me a few of the dances. Just great fun!
July 6
At 10:00 we meet Peter, the gardener, for a walk and talk around the MacKenzie estate house and walled garden. The estate has been like a summer home to come to for sport. Fishing in Spring and early summer and then in early August, shooting grouse and red deer. We were shown pictures of the old layout of roads and gardens and stands of trees, some of the old giants still doing well. We walked behind the house where some of it has been turned into rental apartments, then through the woods where we were startled by a deer through the trees standing very still. Not a real deer. This deer was used as a test. If you wanted to shoot deer on the land, you had to pay your 300 pounds and then prove you could put some bullets into the stationary deer or the games keeper would not let you proceed! A burn (creek) was carefully channeled through rock-built sidings. We saw more evidence of the old garden gone wild. Huge Sequoia trees, not natural here. Azaleas everywhere, hedges grown up high and wild, a copper beech...then into the green house area and spots where Peter gets some of the plants started. There is a pit for making a fire that feeds warmth into the greenhouses. No longer in use. Here his wife Jackie has had him erect a tent for her to take naps in, especially on hot afternoons after she has put a few hours of work into gardening. He says that he even brings her tea there! And on into the walled garden to look at a few plants that we were not familiar with. One being a Hebe, from New Zealand. Privet type leaves with a white stocky flower. He had left a section with white blooming spurry, the short grassy flower that grows after the cereal fields are harvested. Very pretty, contained in its large square garden area. A cup of tea followed with Jackie and Peter joining us for a good chat.
One more thing to do. We head to a site where there is a broch in grass-covered ruins. Since we had already been in one that was still partially standing, it was more easily understood by us. It had been built on a high spot with views all around. Next to it, built in a more recent time, were the remains of Hebridean barns which may be rebuilt to their original states. So this is the end of our Applecross village experience. We will stop on the peninsula coastal route heading north, at Cuaig, to see what is there and what we can find out. But before we do, we stop for a long nap. Now both of us have colds.
Cuaig. Cu means Sea and aigmeans Bay. Seabay. The Gaelic word is Cuthaig. However the settlement is not on the water, it is back a bit away from the wind. Our map shows us that there is a beach and bay below but we cannot see it from the road. Cuaig would have been connected to the other villages along this peninsula by a path for walking or riding a horse. There are about 10 ruined stone houses and barns and 6 homes standing, some of which were quite probably fixed up from the old. There is no road through the houses but we can see an old raised grass covered road used only by sheep. There is a newer bridge built across the stream and the road continues up the hill, between the houses. We cannot walk it as livestock fences block the way. So we take the car to the top of the hill, hoping there is a road coming through from there. There is not, but we see a woman out in her yard feeding her chickens so we drive to her closed gate. Helloooo. Hello we call. She is unsure of us. She is dressed in coat and rubber boots and her long grey hair is tied up with a gauze bow to keep it out of her face but it still flies in the wind. After a bit of talk she heads to her house to bring a book to us that a friend has just loaned her. It is a draft, still in the works, called A History of Applecross AD671 to 1836. I look through it for new information but it is light on the side of naming people, mostly information I already have. We talk, and the mood turns easy and trusting. She looks young from a distance but the wrinkles on her face tell me that she might be my age. Her name is Katherine MacRae. nee MacLeod. She married a MacRae who had lived on this property all his life. He died 6 years ago but he would have probably been able to tell me a few stories. The main families here were MacKenzies and MacRaes. They married each other. Everyone else that lives here is a “new resident”. No MacKenzie or other MacRae families. Katherine has two children, a boy and a girl, in Inverness...and 4 grandchildren there. I liked her. We shook hands goodbye across the closed gate. I could send her a letter without a numbered address to Cuaig which I plan to do...but I also took a website address from a neighbor's gate. Cuaig Croftwww.wildernesscottages.co.ukI am feeling quite close to the area and its people now. I have lots of new cultural information. Although I have been unable to find specific names I am satisfied. We will leave the area tomorrow, heading to Inverness.
BOOKS ON APPLECROSS:
>A Glimpse of History,Applecross Historical Society
>Applecross and its Hinterland,Iain MacLennen
>Master in Sail, Captain William Murchison
>A Very Fine Class of Immigrants, Lucille H. Campey
>Walking into the Past, Murdoch MacDonald (Historic walks)
>A Very Fine Class of Immigrants, Lucille H. Campey
THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:
>The Applecross estate has apartments for rent. The Clachen Church manse has room for 16 people. Stewarts? McKees?
>The word “harle” means stucco
>There is no war memorial for those who served and died from Applecross, which we find everywhere else. The minister at the time did not want to glorify war!
>A sign on the road...HEAVY PLANT CROSSING.
>Just north of Applecross there is a lovely sand beach, reached by car or footpath from the village. It is called SAND.
>Between Applecross and Cuaig there are many stone croft ruins.
>David calls the many hikers we see...FREE RANGE PEOPLE
>Sometimes the areas look so much like home, especially like our kayak route in Canada, heading to Gold River.
>A pub called THISTLE STOP...a subtle Scottish twist
July 7
After leaving Cuaig and winding around the last part of the peninsula we stop at a high view spot for the night. A village across the water, colorful boats below us. We are plagued by these nasty colds and sleep until noon! A late start gets us to the west end of Loch Ness and along the road less traveled on the south side. We see no monsters either in the lake or out. Already it is time for more sleep. We always have to close up the van curtains tightly as darkness does not come until 11:00 at night! I always think of lower Canada and Great Britain as being along the same parallel but Great Britain, certainly Scotland, is further north. The continent is warmed by the gulf stream. The next morning we drive through Inverness. We were not feeling like facing a city, even as lovely as it is, (I have been to Inverness before) so we head 6 miles more to the site of the Battle of Culloden where there is a museum and the field where the battle was fought, looking as it did in 1745. This was a battle lead by “Bonny Prince Charlie” of the Stuart clan who was fighting for his place as the Scottish King against the English. He was not prepared and his fighting men were few compared to the English. They were slaughtered in an hour...while Charles ran for the Islands, being hid by allies and even once dressing as Flora MacDonald's maid to get to the Island of Skye. In the end he was picked up by French ships and taken to France. This was the last battle fought between the English and Scots on the continent. (Scotland, much to the surprise of many people, is still not an independent country. There is a push to make this happen as they did gain their own parliament in 2007.) The exhibit was set up so that the sequence of events for each “side” was displayed on opposite walls. I noticed names on the walls of some of the Scots who died fighting. There were many Stewarts (a few James Stewarts, my uncle's name) and only one MacKenzie, John. However there is not a complete list. I liked the feeling of walking from side to side, knowing what was happening in both camps. The actual battlefield had flags marking where the opposing force's lines were before battle began. Monday morning we chose to travel some smaller roads on the east side of the Cairngorms, another beautiful park of mountains. These seemed to be more gentle and rounded, though some very high. We went through ski areas with lots of tows and chair lifts. The ski down from there looked pretty pleasant, not even a tree in the way, but I can imagine that some skiers went from the top in a different direction through a longer rougher terrain of valleys. Maybe there is a bus to bring them back?
At a crossroads we read the signs. One of them says BALMORAL CASTLE. Balmoral! The Queen's private Scottish home, passed down the line to her from Queen Victoria. (Bought by Victoria and Albert in 1855.) I had been wondering where it was! So we take a small detour to satisfy our curiosity. The grounds are open to the public in May, June and July. I think I am most interested in Balmoral because of Prince Charles and his relationship to it, growing up with access to these mountains and trees...wild beautiful places...and then later, taking time to go to his favorite haunts and paint them. Yes, sit down on the ground with his small size papers, watercolor set and brushes...and come up with some lovely scenes. Truly talented. We did not get to go to those favorite haunts, though we could have if we had wanted to spend the extra money. We crossed the River Dee and walked the grounds around the palace. I looked up at Queen Victoria's bedroom window, rose gardens below, a long view of lawn, then forest and then a mountain. A nice view to wake up to. This holiday home was set up for a sports/hunting retreat and is still used that way. Wildlife includes fox, grouse, black grouse, ptarmigan, river otter, mink, jays, roe deer, red deer and horses and ponies roam. Highland games have been held there twice. The Cricket field is used by local teams and there is a 9 hole golf course. The trees on the grounds are many and have been brought from all over the world. David Douglas, an Aberdeen taught horticulturist/forester, became interested in collecting seeds. Some of these seeds he sent from British Columbia, Canada, and are now huge trees in the Balmoral grounds forest. This is the explanation for the naming of our North American Douglas Fir. The grounds keepers keep seedlings going so old trees can be replaced. We were only allowed into one castle room, the ballroom. Not too interesting. The gardens of vegetables and flowers rated 10 out of 10. I loved the straight rows of healthy plants. The greenhouses, the tiny conservatory. I am happy to have found Balmoral by mistake!
The drive beyond to Falkland is full of wild flowers along the road edges; thick bristles of purple Scots thistles, wild roses, Queen Annes lace. The hills are patchy in shapes like camouflage. Three different colors: the green of grass fields, the purple brown of the heather and a darker blackish brown. David suggests that those dark patches have been burned to let the grass grow in for the sheep. It is somewhat disturbing for me...messing with the beautiful hills. I am reminded over and over again that the Scots (the British as a whole) need to manage their land. They don't have as much room as the North American continent! They do a beautiful job of it. Everywhere we pass is lovely. A calming sight for the eyes and soul. Two female pheasants run ahead to get out of the way of our wheels. Signs along the way say... PHEASANTS ON ROAD. We are told that it is a shame to run over a pheasant as they are for shooting! It is late when we reach Falkland. We are planning on seeing the Falkland Castle and Gardens in the morning so now we need a place to stay the night. As we enter town a sign points us to a picnic area and car park so we take a left and find ourselves on a thin dirt road heading upwards. Maybe we made a mistake? But at the top we are rewarded with a huge view. We can see Perth and Dundee and the North Sea. We are the only people there.
Falkland is a special town. I am not sure why. The well kept oldness? The castle in the middle of town? Good shops and pubs and restaurants? It just felt good to be there. The day was rainy so an inside castle tour was the right thing. Maybe we can see the gardens from the windows? Unlike other big stone buildings, this one was kept warm, and it was full of furniture and rugs and tapestries and paintings like someone still lived there. Well in a sense they do. The “keeper”, probably an earl and his wife live in apartments which we do not see and they use the drawing room for special occasions. This is a place of Stuart Royalty. I ask a docent a question that I have always had...why are there two spellings of Stewart/Stuart? Answer: The French do not have a “w” in their language and the royals were tied up to the French. It is the same name. Mary, Queen of Scots father was ill and waiting to hear if he had a son or daughter born to him. The news came that he was the father of a girl. Thinking that the end of his Royal line of Stuarts was at an end....he died. Little did he know! The afternoon was still rainy and grey. David went to the tiny library where he was given a computer to work on and I had a cozy time in the van. The bed was pulled out but the bedroll still rolled up making a lovely chaise lounge. With a pillow at my back and a wool blanket over me, music playing, rain on the roof...I knitted.
Late afternoon we drove to Edinburgh...across the Firth of Forth. We had big plans for a couple of days. Our first stop was at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. The feature: Edvard Munch. But first we went through the Museum collection exhibits. Wassily Kandinsky. Gustav Klimt. Kirchner. Otto Dix. David was taken with The Stairwell Project by Richard Wright. He is a painter of walls and his work usually get painted over after an exhibit. The museum hired him to permanently paint the stairwell and it is stunning. Too hard to explain, you will have to ask David about it the next time you see him! I was taken with some book illustrations by Oskar Kokoschka from Austria. Very colorful lithographs illustrating “The Dreaming Boys”. The look of the images being a combination of woodcut, stained glass and folk art...with the text running down the right side of the page in a long thin space.
Munch's exhibit was about his printmaking pulled together from three different collectors. You may know his famous piece “The Scream”. His work is dark and troubled. He is working out his fears and anxieties.
Edvard Munch never married though he did have several long term relationships. He felt that involvement always meant three phases...attraction, separation and then despair. Here are a few quotes from Munch, which tell you a bit about his persona.
“...man longs to abandon himself to love, but fears loosing control.”
“Illness and madness and death were the dark angels that stood at my cradle.”
“In my art I have tried to explain to myself life and its meaning. I have also tried to help others clarify their lives.”
THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:
>I am always confused about the different types of printmaking. I understand block prints and lithographs but not etchings and dry point. A short explanation: etchings and dry point require the artist to score the picture into a metal plate from which impressions are then printed. (But there is so much more to the complicated process than that! Acid baths?)
>I must order some art books when I get home. Two Scottish women artists that I am especially taken with are Anne Redpath and Elizabeth Blackadder.
>Road sign...END OF CRAWLER LANE.
>The other day I ordered Scottish Pie. The server said it was mince with potatoes and vegetables. Well I will try anything traditionally Scottish. She scooped out a serving and handed me the plate. I looked at it and said, “Oh, where I come from we call this Shepherd's Pie.” She said, “Oh no, Shepherd's pie has turnips in it.” And I think mince means hamburger.
>Yesterday we went by three similar towns...Damhead, Woodhead and Loanhead...and then there is Plumptonhead.... and well, how about Touch Wood!
July 12 HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS M. !!! I didn't forget!
Today I slept until 4:00 pm. This cold is at its coughing stage and it's pretty ugly. David suggested that I take it easy. He loaded me up with bottles of water and even found Sudafed for me at the superstore, Sainsbury's. I have throat lozenges and cough syrup, neither of which do a thing for me. So much for another day in Edinburgh. This evening we are in Newcastle to keep an appointment to have a lube and oil done on the van. The drive here changed from a Scottish look to an English look as we crossed the border.
July 13
We sit at the VW car dealer while they do the oil change, fix extra small stuff and check the car over. David likes to know his vehicle is working well. Waiting is really an okay break for us. David uses the WIFI and I knit...the TV news is on over and over and over, but the volume is low...then the cooking shows come on. They are enjoyable. We can press our choice out of many buttons on the coffee machine and get a pretty good latte or two. It seems that most of the working staff like the hot chocolate button. We are released to return the next morning at 8:00 to have “boots” put on the CV joints. So tonight we decide to find a movie, which magically shows up in front of us in the form of an Odeon. Seldom do we go to a regular Hollywood type movie so we do not know what will be offered. A leap of faith. But first we have to go into the giant mall at Gateshead. What a shock! The first thing that hits us is an arcade, like Vegas, colored lights flashing, noisy bells ringing, people putting coins in a machine to play a game. Of course the usual stores and clumps of food vendors. We are just not used to this. We look at things like we really have been on another planet. Then to the ticket counter and the list of movies. The ticket taker gives us a run down on what they might be about... so we choose the one that she has not seen. Something like Finding a Friend for the End of the World. What a dear movie! Lucky us. The star was the guy that is the main character in the sitcomThe Office which is not my style. So I was disappointed but not for long. He played a serious role extremely well, along with his underlying subtle humor.
July 14 HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOU LEMMON CONVERSE.
The car ready for us, we head back across the border to Scotland's Borders area. Now we are in search of ancestors from my mother's family, Black. We do not have much information, but we have been able to find the village and area. Maybe we will run into someone who knows that their ancestors migrated to Canada? This area is quite remote, undiscovered by the tourist crowd and beautiful in a completely different way. We drive through the Cheviot Hills and quite a bit of forest. Winding rivers rushing fast between leafy trees and grass. We have done research on the village of Hounam. It was a crossroads on the Roman road leading northwest to Edinburgh. There was an inn and several houses. The description says that there was a row of houses that really were not a part of the village that were called Thimble Row because they were used by tailors. Hounam was recorded first as an early tribe that constructed numerous hill forts in 1165. (Single standing stone and a circle called Five Stanes nearby) The church dates back to the 1400's. The parish school – 1609. The Roman road still in use is called Dere Street and passes close to the west of the village. In 1755 the population was 632, in 1831, 260. We found a report on the area written in 1854...
The character of the people was generally very good but the cheapness of the whiskey lead to bad habits. The food eaten was: oatmeal porridge used with milk or beer made from treacle, barley, pease meal bannocks and potatoes. A bit of bacon or salted mutton occupied the chief place on the table. Coffee and tea. The people were generally intelligent, moral and had exemplary attendance on religious ordinances. Poaching on game prevails by persons of non-residence to the parish. English smugglers from over the borders were constantly being dealt with.
We drive into Hounam, which is most often now called Hownam, pass a row of houses and have to hunt for a way to the old church. The churchyard gate is down a short road between houses. David and I take sections of headstones and search for the name Black. Only one is found...the wife of Walter Hall. She is Agnes Black who died in 1885...and a daughter who died at 16 in 1879...both living at Seefew.
I start knocking on doors. First a young man who has lived in the area for just a few years sends me next door to talk to Margaret who has lived here all her life. She can't be roused, so I knock on the next door and I am greeted by a tall gentleman who has an American accent. He and his wife send me to another door where I might be more successful...but they send me with a fresh cookie in hand! Knocking again the door opens to an older lady who knows Margaret very well and is worried because I have not been able to talk with her. “Just a minute while I put my shoes on and I will come with you.” It took some time for her to search the back entrance and the garden. I wait at the front door and finally Margaret appears with wet hair. She has been in the shower. Everyone is being so nice and so helpful. Margaret says that there are no Blacks in the village but gives us a small booklet put together by the Borders Family History Society on the monumental inscriptions found in Hounam and another close village, Linton. Agnes Black is the only Black recorded in these two churchyards. As we climbed back into the van a man came to us with more information. (The sixth contact out of a population of17 living in the village.)“There is an Alexander (Alec) Black that owns the Templehall Inn and Pub in Morebattle.
While I was visiting with the “cookie folks” I wrangled an invitation to a party that they were just getting dressed for. Barry and Karen said it was a music night and I looked longingly at them. That is all it took and with their directions we found our way. A large gathering of families. Some indoors, some out. Ping pong going on in a retreat cabin over the stream. A bonfire. Anna greeted us at the front door. “Hi, we were just in the area and some kind folks invited us to your party. Is this your home?” ….”Yes, come in! Here, come and have a ginger wine, a traditional Edinburgh drink.”...and handed us some full wine glasses with a strawberry floating in it. Really very good. A bit of a sparkle in it. We added a bottle of wine to the bar and began talking immediately to some very interesting folks...besides Barry and Karen! Ewen, an organic farmer who took over his father's farm and went to Israel a few times to learn how they managed their farms. Angus, a shepherd /folk musician who just became redundant (let go). He had lots of stories to tell. (I think it was he who told us of another Black who used to live and work at Cessford farm and castle but is dead.) Jack, a college student studying marine biology who really new his music and wished some day to go to Nashville, New Orleans and Memphis. In the background guitars were being played and some good solo singing. Everyone had bought food, so much good food! Even brownies which are my downfall. The home had been built by Damian, Anna's husband and was straw bail. It was open and light like a Pacific NW home. Also an old stone building had been finished and was being used. Wide open gardens for play. A truly wonderful look at a community of folks from different villages and towns. I think most were folk musicians and church members. Anna is a minister. During the course of the evening, Barry and Karen asked us to stay with them. Real beds! Showers! Good conversation! Barry is a pilot. Karen is a piano teacher and organ tuner. Barry drives a little old Austin circa 1950's and Karen drives an orange MGBGT, 1972. Two fabulous cars! Barry is from North Carolina and Karen is from Maine. Ginger is their very likeable dog. Well behaved and really playful....always on the hunt for food. Their thick walled stone home is lovely and has a large space for Karen's music room. (Why didn't I ask her to play the piano?!) The house sits on the edge of the street in a slight curved line with the others. The gardens are at the back. The old Inn is still there but is now a home. Inside, excellent quilts made by Karen's mother are scattered here and there. Good art on the walls. Our beds were so comfy. Our showers delicious. Karen cooked breakfast. Omelets, toast, home fries, fruit and good French-press coffee, along with more good conversation until about noon. All good things must end I guess. We said our goodbyes and hope to meet again. They were just so generous! We make our way first to Morebattle where Alec Black has the pub. We ask a woman if he is there and she said yes, he is my husband. Marlyn was unbelievably helpful. She brought out more books from the Borders Family History Society with monument inscriptions recorded from other nearby village churchyards. We copy down what we find...but this is not information that tells me that it is our Black family...but it could lead to finding our family. Marlan is also going to chat with Aunt Betty Black (by marriage) to see if she knows if anyone from this family emigrated to Canada. She is interested in family history. Alec talked with us awhile but could not remember anyone going to Canada, only Australia. We wandered two churchyards and copied from headstones anything that might feed into our search.
Tonight, we are in Hawick (pronounced Hoik) and will be going to their data center tomorrow.
July 19 HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN WILLIS (16th) I hear it was pretty special! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BARB McKEE (17th) xoxo
We have spent days now, visiting churchyards and villages but thanks to nephew Chris McKee, we changed our search to my great, great, great grandfather, his siblings and parents. James Black who did emigrate to Canada, maybe even followed a sweetheart whom he married in Orillia, Ontario. We were able to find all his siblings recorded in long hand on the original records so we will bring home copies of those. I
Monday I got in an “Open Surgery” line-up or Que at 8:30 am to see a doctor. There must have been about 30 people. I thought I would be there for hours but it went very quickly. I think most of the folks just needed to renew prescriptions and did not want to set up appointments. They do this for a few hours every morning and the rest of the day the doctors see patients with appointments. Each doctor is given names who registered at the reception desk...as we came in. As they go through their list they come out to the waiting room and call you in ...no nurse doing it for them. So you follow the doc on down to the office which is not a little cubby hole without windows and you don't have to sit up on the examination table. You don't need a magazine as it is your turn immediately. Dr. Morag Robertson was my assigned doctor...or I was her assigned patient. David came in with me and the beforehand chatting was lovely. Yes, I will tell you what was wrong with me. I had a sore throat and cough for way to long. I also was out of control in the peeing department. It seems that I had an infection in both areas! So I am on antibiotics for the cough and waiting to see if I need more of a different sort for the other problem. The visit cost us 50 pounds and the antibiotics, nothing. I am definitely improving. I am taking it fairly easy as I don't have much energy but that David of mine is taking care of everything. We have spent good time in the Heritage Hub going through records in books, maps, microfilm and reels. The ladies who work there are so helpful. I guess that is their job but we were often needing help. They really wanted us to find what we wanted. Cheered us on and made sure we had contact information in case we needed them again. On Tuesday afternoon we drove north to the town our family lived in. Darnick, sort of attached to a larger town, Melrose. A really lovely place. It seems that now this area is a sought after place to live. We walked through the main street, found a WW I memorial plaque on the 19thcentury town community hall with two Black surname soldiers on it. A car squealed to a stop as we were taking pictures. “Are you looking for family?” Well, David Roseburgh turned out to be a history buff and professional genealogist and has lived his whole life there. He offered to take us on a tour. Very colorful stories went with it. The center and most important piece of history is the Darnic Tower ruins, once three towers only one still stands, one completely gone and the other in ruins. The story goes that the King at the time was very young, really too young to rule so there were always arguments about who owned this or that. Well, two factions attacked each other on what became known as Squirmish Hill. The local laird could not decide whose side he should be on, as he wanted to be on the winning side. He sent his wife to the top of the tower with a red flag and a white flag, each color was attached to one of the sides. When she saw who was winning, she raised the flag and her husband charged in! David R. said that there were four separate kingdoms in the area known as Scotland...The Picts, the Strathclydes, the Scots west and Ireland. No wonder there was so much clan fighting. He told us that we really should go to the church in Melrose where Robert the Bruce's heart was kept. He made a point to tell us that he was called the first King of the Scots (meaning King of the people)...Instead of being called the Scottish King. More relateable. He also talked about the bandits or reavers as they were called that came up over the border...Roman? English? Evidently that is where the word “bereaved” comes from.... having something taken from you. He also said that the reavers looked like Richard Nixon and Neil Armstrong! And another tidbit...Sir Walter Scott tried to buy the Darnick Tower while he was there visiting and when he left he purposely left his umbrella there so he could come back for it and possibly deal for the tower again. It is said that the umbrella is still in the tower(and now a home) that stands. Also the Boy Scout founder Baden Powell was schooled in the cottage next door and....MacTavish who began the Northwest Trading Company (at the same time as the Hudson Bay Company) came from Darnick. We went through one of those great passageways to another street and here we were on Smith Street, the original foot, horsecart and coach path through town. On a wall on Smith Street was a plaque commemorating a street party to celebrate 50 years since VE day. It was 1995...”Glorious sunshine blessed this day as we gathered together to REMEMBER, REJOICE and GIVE THANKS.” David R. said that his mother's organ was brought to the street from her home and that his father organized the event. One more legend... a man of the cloth/clergy was wandering through the Scottish Borders. He could find no churches. He asked some local fellows...:”Are there any Christians here?” Oh not really, just the Elliotts and the Armstrongs! Our tour guide gave us some tips and book titles and his card....with the suggestion to contact him if we ever want to look deeper for the Black family. Today is Thursday. We crossed out of Scotland with such a sinking feeling.
