Ancestral Research - Scroghill to Skillymarno

During one of our adventures, we were looking for first, the Strichen Stone Circle then the Louden Woods Stone Circle, neither of which we found that day, but we did enjoy the tour around the countryside.

Quite by accident we came across a completely different stone circle by following an ordinance map. In order to get to the indicated circle though we followed an farm road into a yard and then asked for directions...The farm was near or called North Auchmachar - just south of Skillymarno.

A lovely elderly lady allowed us to walk through her farm yard (North Auchmachar) and into the field, pointing us to the site on a hill.



Unfortunately, a previous tenant farmer had dug the circle up and moved most of the stones into a heap in order to have more space for growing crops. He apparently left the one standing stone. However, in my humble opinion, I believe the standing stone isn't where it should be either, though I could be wrong. It seemed to me the top of the hill was a little farther to the right, where one could have seen for miles in every direction.





Of course, I have no idea what constitutes a good Druidical hill site, but most others we saw were definitely situated on the top of a hill with great viewing in every direction, right where the trees are behind the stone in the photo to the right.

Also unfortunately, this was the day I had my camera set on the wrong setting, hence the pink tinges to everything, which I couldn't seem to correct on my limited photo software.


I mention Skillymarno and North Auchmachar, because there is a vague link to our ancestors having worked on these farms or in the area.


I also went back to Scroghill where my great-grandmother was born and lived until her family emigrated to Canada in 1884. I dug a little deeper into the history of the place, attempting to get the definitive scoop on the facts, but I don't know that I'm any farther ahead.

The problem is that there is a hill called Scroghill and a farm by the same name. The farm has three stone buildings attached into a U-shape, plus a white two storey house. The house isn't very old and it is the reckoning of the people in the area that my ancestral family probably lived in a portion of the stone building.

When I was visiting last year, we thought it was in the centre portion of the U, but now it looks like it may have been on one end of one of the arms (note the green door with a little square window to the right).



However, through further research I have discovered they might not have lived at the Scroghill farm proper at all, but rather in one of the little crofts that surrounded it. This makes much more sense as I doubt my grandparents had the kind of stature and money that denoted running the main farm. My great-great-grandfather was noted as a crofter, which then means they lived in a small place within a few hundred yards of the main farm buildings, such as like the one that is built into the side of the hill (see far below.)


Rather than explain it all again, below is the description I have written about the lifestyle in these buildings using the first information, which is an extract from the new book I'm working on. I will be totally changing this section now that I have learned more about the history. I have other substantiating information to validate my new findings, but it's interesting anyway to see how the main farm family might have lived. These would have been the people my ancestors worked for, who in turn worked for the laird (lord) of an estate. (These passages will never be in my book now...)

EXCERPT:

“My wife and I have lived there for only ten years and I don’t know the history of the farm much farther back, though I do know the buildings are about two hundred year old,” the owner said. “But please feel free to take as many photographs as you want.”

“Thank you,” Emily said, as began snapping from various angles.

“This is a typical stone building with turf and thatch roof,” the owner explained.

“It kind of looks like three barns stuck together,” Emily suggested.

“Indeed, the livestock would have been housed in that part of the building just through these doors.”

He escorted them into the longest section on their left. The wooden stalls were gone, but Emily could imagine how it had been with cows chewing on their cud under the high windows, with chickens scratching in the straw at their feet and maybe a pen of sheep at one end and a few piglets in another.

“This is the very doorway that led between it and the house.”

As they stepped through an interior doorway into the middle section, they found another low-ceilinged room, open from one end to the other. Shafts of light spread from skylight windows over workbenches littered with tools, a cement mixer, bicycles, ladders, tarps, and other piles of junk stacked throughout the space. The stone walls were white-washed to brighten the long narrow room.

Emily pictured what it must have been like when her ancestors lived there. In one corner would have been the box beds with curtains and the fireplace at the other end was obviously where they cooked their food. A table with benches probably served as their dining table and work space. She pictured young children bringing in blocks of wood or dried dung and peat for the fires, and sitting at the table, learning their letters. Above them herbs would be strung from the rafters to dry, and a huge black pot of stew would have hung from the rod over the fire in the hearth.

They crossed into another section divided into smaller rooms. The owner explained that this would have been used for implements, to hold grain and other supplies necessary for their everyday lives. Emily noticed a small room on the end of the barn section and peered inside.

“That would have been where a single workman would have lived,” the man answered her questioning look.

“But there’s not even a window in here,” Emily said, entering the tiny, narrow room.

“He really only cooked and slept in here,” said the owner, pointing to the narrow chimney built into the wall with a small hearth about halfway up where he would have cooked his meals.

“But what about the winter months?” The small fireplace would hardly have kept him warm as the ceiling was high and open to the rafters.

“Well, yes, it wouldn’t have been that comfortable here, but he would have been happy to have somewhere to live all the same. Sometimes there were rooms in the attic above the barn where the hired men stayed, but in this case, this was it.”

Emily shuddered. She couldn’t imagine living there at any time of the year, huddled in the small dark space with cows and other farm animals living on the other side of the wall.

“He wouldn’t even be able to read very well.” Emily didn’t realize she spoke out loud.

“If he could read at all, it would have only been by candlelight, but he wouldn’t want to waste them,” said the owner.

Dad explained. “They would have been tallow candles—made from the fat of sheep and cattle—and there would have been a limited amount made for use.”

The owner nodded.

Emily shivered. “But how could they live like that?”

“They lived as best as they could, and it was difficult in those days, because they seldom had even enough to eat, especially when they gave portions of their crops to their lairds, if they had no cash to pay their rental fees,” explained the owner of Scroghill.

“At the time you mentioned your family lived here, there were some very difficult years, because the weather destroyed crops that would have fed animals and humans. Wheat and other grains were blighted; potatoes and other root crops rotted from either too much rain or didn’t grow because there wasn’t enough moisture.”

“But how could the landlords—lairds—expect payment then?”

“It wasn’t fair, but they expected what was rightfully theirs. If the lessee couldn’t pay one year, he was still required to pay it the next year.”

“But they’d never get ahead,” Emily said aghast at the conditions.

“That’s right,” said Dad, “which is why many left this country to try their luck in North

America.”