Aug. 9, 1955
Keith’s Home
31 Acacia-Hale
It is 11 p.m. here, and I am very tired, but I have had such a grand experience yesterday and today, that I think I had better get some of it down on paper before I forget it.
Until this morning, the weather here has been great, sunny, no rain, and the people saying only one day of rain for the last 30. It does look dry, grass all brown. Such a thing is very rare here. But this morning it was raining when we got up, and it hasn’t stopped yet. It is just a drizzle, with clouds hanging low, no sign of the sun, and visibility poor.
On Sunday morning Keith’s dad, Frank, and Keith and I left here for the “north country” and Kirtlehead. Sunday we visited Prank’s father, now 89, at Southport, north of Liverpool on the west coast. He runs a draper’s shop, sells yard goods etc., and still works every day. His hearing and sight are excellent, and he looks like Uncle Rob and Grandad somewhat. He sold me some tartan, or plaid, as we call it. Then we drove north thru the English lake country- beautiful, hilly, and rich in history and English literature lore. We stayed at Keswick, about 140 miles north of here. It was a quaint little town surrounded by rather high hills, like Pineville Kentucky. The roads run along the valleys, each with a stream, well stocked with fish, some up from the sea. Signs along the road, and in town advertise “bed and breakfast”, the custom here. Bed & B. cost about a dollar and a half, per person, very cheap, and you get a good breakfast. We had porridge (oatmeal) fried eggs, and wonderful bacon with hardly any fat on it, (the bacon was from Denmark) lots of tea, toast, and other breads, biscuits etc.
Monday we went to Scotland, first to see a cousin of Franks, Jean Rome Smith. She was very nice, we had tea, and then she went with us to Frank’s grandfather’s place, where Frank played and visited as a boy. Smith’s have no children after 16 years of married life. They live in a quaint cottage with outdoor plumbing. The whole area for miles is owned by the Duke of Buccleuch, including the farm, called Barras Crofts. I got pictures of the family graves at Canonbie church. John, his son William, David, William’s wife. John is Franks grandfather. The farm referred to is farmed by the youngs. Mr. Young, 79, had a sister married to Mungo Patterson, brother of Franks father. His two sons run this farm, rented for generations from each succeeding Duke. Like all farms around they raise sheep by the hundreds. All the farms and fields are fenced by 4-5 ft. stone walls, built hundreds of years ago. These walls go right up steep hills and go for hundreds of miles. They line both sides of nearly all the roads, gardens, lanes, barnyard, sheep-pens etc. They demonstrated their remarkable sheep dog at my request. He went into the field and rounded up every sheep, and brought them to the gate. Then at command he “lay doon”. The accents are really terrific most of the time I couldn’t understand anything. That night we stayed at Langholm 7 or 8 miles from Kirtlehead. (The Youngs had salted hams hanging from the dining room ceiling, plus a small clothes rack on ropes that could be raised or lowered in front of the fireplace for drying. They have 2 daughters, 3 & 6).
At Langholm we climbed White Mountain, over 1,000 ft. on top of this is a monument to some local big shot. Once a year the local people ride up and around the monument on horseback or walk it, to preserve their rights to using the “common”- it is an al- most barren mountain, but the sheep thrive on it. Picked some heather from the hillside. When old Mr. Young heard us talking about this, preserving rights and freedoms, he said in an accent too cute to describe--”Thae hae na got many rights nae more”.
Today--Tues. we went to Kirtlehead, the ancient Patterson home. It is off the country road about a mile north right along the Kirtle water, as the stream is called. It is just a small stream, but I think in wetter weather, is fuller than I saw it. The road to the farm is not a public road, it only goes to Kirtlehead and Winterhope, the farm across the water. (Kirtlehead is on the west side, Winterhope is on the east side) John W. Patterson lives on the home place. His daughter is married to Hope of Winterhope, so lives just across the creek, so to speak, but about i mile away. Their girl, a year old was there with grandparents. John Patterson is a corker of a Scotsman, he is witty, played a scottish waltz on the piano for us. He sure looks like a Patterson in the U. S.-- Lloyd for instance, or as Uncle Frank used to look. I took lots of pictures, but it was drizzling and heavy overcast. He said he has between 20 and 25 score sheep. The accent was so thick, even Frank couldn’t get all of it. Here’s an easy one for you. He said to us “come been the hoose an sit ye an doon”. He bought the farm from the afore-mentioned Duke about 35 years ago, and has 300 acres--every inch of it hilly as the dickens with other streams besides the Kirtle in the various valleys. To the north from his place, it is 6 miles before you come to another farm house. Surely reminded of Ky. except these hills are tree-less, just heather, grass and weeds. And they are good-sized hills. His shoes were turned up at the ends, made that way on purpose for hill climbing, and with big hob nails on the bottom to prevent slipping.
He said the house in the photo I have was built in about 1824. Out in back his two maiden sisters live in the original cottage dating from 1715. This is where the 12 children were raised. The boys slept in the cheese room, and used to roll the cheeses on the floor instead of getting to sleep. This was the fore- runner of the pillow fight maybe. A chair dating from 1715 is all that is left of the original furniture.
Keith took my picture standing beside it and an old picture of one of the brothers that didn’t go to America. (Maybe that is William, the one we could not find a picture of. Ed) The floors are stone slabs, each about 2 ft. by lift, and linoleum or carpets are laid over them. In the kitchen doorway, the stones are worn about 2 inches, and will need replacing in another hundred years or so.what a house! It was all a wonderful experience. I am bringing a thistle as the only actual souvenir from Kirtlehead farm plus what I hope will be some good color slides and some unique memories. As we left, I told John about flying over, and he said “Whan dae build a brig (bridge) oer, I’ll waak (walk) it”. We had 3 gates to open and close as we entered and left. Of course we had tea and scones and sweet cakes--we get them everywhere. Been eating 4-5 times a day, tea every time, 2-3 cups. Its a good thing I like tea! By the way John P. spells it with 2 t’s like we do in the U.S.
Well, it is almost 1 a.m. Tomorrow I leave for London. I am plenty tired, never get to bed here before 12 or 1, and going all day long. I thought I’d better get these fresh impressions off before they were crowded out by others
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