Celtic Life - 25th Anniversary - Special Edition

On this beautiful sunshined day, while reading away stories from Celtic Life -  25th Anniversary Special Edition which compiles the “Best of the Best” articles published in the last quarter century,  a title grabbed my fullest attention: Child Slaves From Scotland; A Story rarely told .   !!??

Child Slaves From Scotland by Douglas MacGowan - Source: Celtic Life (celticlife.ca)

Written back in 2001 by Douglas MacGowan, it’s an horrific account on Scottish slavery. Slavery was dubbed “the most profitable evil in the world”.

In his article, Douglas McGowan talks about:

• An Opera telling the story of two slaves from Scotland: Haki and Hekja who journeyed to North American shores with a group of Vikings
• The practice of selling children into slavery as portrayed in Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Kidnapped
  
• Peter Williamson’s memoirs written in 1756 which got him arrested for publishing his ordeal of being forced into labour

Took me only two seconds to raise from my reading chair  and get in front of my computer to google away about the Opera!

Not that I’m a fanatic of Operas, but because I wanted to know more about the legend and eager to discover what triggered Michael Parker’s mind to compose an Opera around Haki and Hekja’s legendary story.

Here’s what I found…

THE LEGEND

Haki and Hekja

Together since childhood, they were captured in their late teens by Viking raiders on their home island of Stronsay, taken to Norway, and sold to King Olaf Tryggvason who gave them as a gift to Leif Eiriksson when he was visiting Norway.

Leif Eiriksson took Haki and Hekja back to Greenland with him and later loaned them to Thorfin Karlsefni to aid him in his expedition to Vinland, which is where we find them in this opera.

Leif Ericson Discovers America - Source: history-world.org

 

They are in a sense one person and rely on each other’s companionship to endure their slavery and exile. Their slavery, however, which has lasted for over ten years, is somewhat paradoxical because, being swifter than deer, they could simply run away from the Vikings on one of their scouting missions.

Part of the problem has been that in the rugged countries of Iceland and Greenland where the Vikings have taken them, Haki and Hekja have had nowhere to run to where they could survive on their own.

The other factor is that running together gives them a sense of freedom which allows them, temporarily at least, to transcend their pain and deny the real condition of their lives.

Hekja especially has entrenched in her character the state of shock they experienced when their families were slaughtered and they were taken to a foreign country in chains.

Their exceptional ability as runners, in fact, is an outgrowth of that shock, an expression of their desire to escape the horror the Vikings brought on them. Thus, ironically, they have accommodated their slavery.

Their skill as runners that has made them valuable to their masters has also been their own solace. But in Vinland Hekja sees the possibility of escape and transformation.

Although Haki is deeply tempted, he continues to be more inclined to accept the conditions of Viking society and to hope for freedom within it. What he longs for is to return to their ancestral island in Scotland, to continue their family’s interrupted history there.

Hekja still feels herself propelled away from her old home by the horror that destroyed it; only more distance and more change will satisfy her.

They both vacillate in their wishes; both feel they have been weakened by collusion and dependency.

Source: http://www2.swgc.mun.ca/mparker/visitor.htm

THE IDEA FOR AN OPERA

As mentioned below, Michael Parker was commissioned by Music Canada 2000 and the Newfoundland Symphony Orchestra to write an opera to commemorate the 1000th anniversary of the Viking arrival in Newfoundland.

The Visitor: an Opera in Five Scenes with Prologue. Op. 58 (2000) Curtain Calls -Opera- The Visitor- Source: www2.swgc.mun.ca In 1998,  the Newfoundland Symphony and Music Canada 2000 commissioned me to write an opera to be premiered in 2000 to commemorate the millenium anniversary of the discovery of Newfoundland by the Vikings. I approached Newfoundland writer John Steffler to produce the libretto. He went to the Vinland Sagas and found a reference to three obscure characters: two Scottish slaves named Hekja and Haki, and a German rune-stone carver named Tyrkir. John Steffler (L) and Dr. Michael Parker - Source: www.mun.ca/gazette/2000-2001 These became the focus of the libretto and the opera. The Visitor is scored for Mezzo-Soprano (Hekja), Lyric Baritone (Haki), Bass Baritone (an Icelendic Bard, Tyrkir, Decker) and Speaking Part (an Interpreter, Agnes), and chamber orchestra consisting of 2 Violins, Viola, Violoncello, Contrabass, Flute, Oboe, Clarinet, Bassoon, Piano and 2 Percussion. The plot is a simple one on the surface. The first three scenes take place in AD 1000 as the Vikings are about to return to Europe from Vinland (Newfoundland). In the last two scenes, the setting suddenly changes to AD 2000 although Hekja and Haki remain. The two Scottish slaves, brought to Vinland by the Vikings to reconnoite the place, are trying to decide whether to return to Europe with their Viking masters or to escape from them to take their chances in the new world. As they ponder these choices, they encounter several other characters. In Scene II, they encounter Tyrkir, a German rune-stone carver. He is disgusted with life in the new world and longs to return to his wife in Europe. In Scene IV Hekja and Haki meet Agnes, a modern doctor who has come to Vinland to escape painful memories of the brutal murder of her family in Africa. They also meet Decker, an archaeologist who sees in the 1000-year-old artefacts of the Vikings a chance to better his position in his job. In the end, Hekja and Haki make their decision. At its heart, The Visitor is an opera about home, about where we all belong, about wishing for better things somewhere else while perhaps not recognizing those precious things that are right at hand. The opera was written between January 1999 and March 2000. It received two very good concert performances in September 2000. As a result of those performances, I have decided I would like to revise some of the work. I look forward to doing that in the near future. http://www2.swgc.mun.ca/mparker/opera.htm

 THE AUTHOR/COMPOSER

Michael Parker - Composer - Source: www2.swgc.mun.ca

Welcome to my homepage.

I am a composer of contemporary concert music. I was born in Toronto but have been living in Newfoundland since 1976. The next few years will see some important anniversaries for me.

2006 will mark my 30th year living in Newfoundland.

2007 will mark my 30th year of teaching at Grenfell College, Memorial University of Newfoundland.

Finally, 2008 will mark my 60th year of living on this planet. What I’ve been doing during all this time is documented throughout this site. I hope you enjoy it.

This webpage will provide you with detailed information about all of the compositions I have written. It will also give you some insights into my live outside of composing. (…)

Newfoundland 1941 Sir Wilfred Grenfell Stamp Commemorates His Hospital Ship: Strathcona II

Further Reading:

THE VIKINGS, NEVIL SHUTE AND CAPE COD

Cape Cod was discovered by the Vikings a thousand years ago. That is what is believed by many researchers after reading the Vinland Sagas. The geography fits perfectly. It is also what Nevil Shute believed when he wrote his novel, An Old Captivity in 1940 and his screen play, Vinland the Good in 1946 about Leif Ericsson’s visit to Cape Cod.

(…)

Nevil Shute visited Cape Cod in 1939 and described Cape Cod as one of the most beautiful places in the world. Interested in the Viking sagas, Shute wrote his sixth novel, An Old Captivity, about the Vikings discovering Cape Cod. It is set in the 1930s and is about an archeologist who explores the Viking sites on Greenland. He hires a pilot to take him there from England in a seaplane. The pilot, overworked and under great stress, cannot sleep so he takes sleeping pills and dreams about Leif Ericsson and two Viking slaves, Haki and Hekja.

http://www.nevilshute.org/cc05.php

I’m now going to dig into the other two aspects of slavery mentionned in Douglas MacGowan’s article: the practice of selling children into slavery and the story of Peter Williamson’s book: The Life and Curious Adventures of Peter Williamson, Who Was Carried Off from Aberdeen, in 1744, and Sold for a Slave , and will come back with more.

A bientôt!

Janice

Arcachon et la dune du Pyla - Source Wikipedia

Hi everybody,

Can you remember the Scottish link binding together the three picturesque villas you can see below? Fortunately, these villas have survived the wave of destruction which, in the name of renovation (and profit), has deprived Arcachon of some of its most beautiful “Arcachonnaises”, as these 19th century architectural jewels are locally called.

Arcachon Villa Craigcrostan old postcard c.1900 Scotiana Library

Arcachon Villa Soleil Levant old postcard c.1900 Scotiana Library

Arcachon Villa Glenstrae old postcard c.1900 Scotiana Library

I’m going to give you at once the answer to my question but if you want to get an idea of what these beautiful old houses look like today, you can read my last post about the subject. It is entitled ‘A mysterious Laird Macgregor in Arcachon‘. You will find in it some of the photos we’ve taken of the villas at the end of last summer. We’ll go back there soon to revisit the ‘Ville d’Hiver’ in winter when the sweet scent of the mimosas mingles with the vivifying smell of the pine trees in the oceanic atmosphere.

Now, here’s our link! Once upon a time there lived in Arcachon a Scottish gentleman rich enough to own the three beautiful villas you can see on the photos above. His name was William Laird Macgregor and when he bought villas ‘Eugénie’ and villa ‘Hermosa’ he immediately renamed them. The first one became  ‘Glenstrae’ after the name of clan Macgregor’s territory in Scotland and the second one ‘Soleil Levant’ perhaps because, from its gazebo, the lucky owner of this villa could admire the sun rising on the Bay d’Arcachon. ‘Craigcrostan’ (which means ‘cliff of the puffins’ in gaelic), the third villa and certainly the most sumptuous one was built for him by an English architect on the dune Laird Macgregor had bought for the purpose. This villa proved to be big enough to serve as a lycée at one time.

Each villa in Arcachon has its own story to tell and the history of the town is in itself a fascinating one. It emerged in the mid 1850s from amidst a dense forest of pine trees, oaks and shrubbery and there were no road to reach the place which was  then inhabited by a few fishermen and peasants. Following the advice of local entrepreneurs, Arcachon rapidly developed into a seaside resort which became very popular with the Bordeaux bourgeoisie. Rich and famous people began to come from all over the world and among them great artists and writers . Clearly the town had been designed for people who had wealth if not health. Arcachon became reputed not only for the beauty of its landscape but also for the healthy benefits of its balsamic and oceanic air and its waters. We know that Laird William Macgregor had settled there for medical reasons.

 

Arcachon seen by satellite - Source Wikipedia

At its southern entrance from the Atlantic ocean, Arcachon Bay is crowned by Europe’s largest sand dune, the Dune de Pyla (or du Pilat), nearly 3 kilometres long, 500 metres wide, reaching 107 metres in height, and moving inland at rate of 5 metres a year. (Wikipedia)

I immediately tried to know more about Laird William Macgregor but it was not easy matter. Except for the fact that the man had the reputation of being of a rather eccentric nature I did find nothing about him around here. I will carry on my investigations in the months to come. The gentleman may have been buried in a local churchyard and we might well fall upon his grave one day or other…

However, if my local investigations have proved to be rather disappointing, though the magnificent Craigcrostan villa can give us an idea of its first owner’s tastes, I’ve found a lot of information on the web.  First of all, I’ve fallen on a very interesting page about this mysterious Laird Macgregor in a very lively autobiographical book written by an American lady whom he met in San Francisco in the aftermath of the American Civil war (1850-1870).

To begin with, I must confess that I had made a mistake about the meaning of the word ‘laird’ in ‘William Laird Macgregor’. Laird usually means ‘lord’ in Scottish but here it happens to be part of the family name of the gentleman, ‘Laird’ being the name of his father and ‘Macgregor’ that of his mother.

My investigations about the mysterious Laird Macgregor of Arcachon owe much to the page I’ve found in Ellen MacGowan Briddle’s book. First, we learn that in 1876, when she met William Laird Macgregor in San Francisco, the ‘delightful old English gentleman’ was seventy, which leads to the conclusion that he was born around 1806. As it is also mentioned that the gentleman came from the famous family of shipbuilders named ‘Laird’ and that his mother was a ‘Macgregor’, it confirms that he did belong to the well-known Laird-Macgregor family rooted in Greenock, near Glasgow.

View looking west over Greenock, Scotland, and across the Firth of Clyde towards Kilcreggan. The Cruise ship Golden Princess lies at Clydeport Ocean Terminal, just beyond Greenock town centre. on the Firth of Clyde - Source Wikipedia

The gentleman’s father, William Laird, was born in Greenock to John Laird and Janet Galbraith in 1780 and he died in England in 1841. He married Agnes Macgregor who was born in Scotland in 1780 to Gregor MacGregor. She died in England in 1853 and they had 5 children. William Laird who was a gifted entrepreneur, moved to Liverpool in 1810 to develop the family rope manufacturing business and in 1824 he established an Iron Works at Birkenhead where he would be joined by his eldest son, John Laird, in 1828. There would be much to say about the family business but it is not our purpose here.

So, John Laird, born in Greenock in 1805, happened to be the eldest son in the family and as such soon followed on his father’s steps, becoming famous in England, and all over the world, in the shipbuilding trade and also locally as a developer and politician in his town of Birkenhead. As for William Laird Macgregor, the gentleman of Arcachon, he was born as a ‘second son’ in Greenock in 1806. As such, he inherited his mother’s name of Macgregor and also her estate in Scotland but I could not find out where it is situated. The family having moved to England in 1810, William Laird Macgregor must have left Scotland at the age of four. He may have come back to his native country later but I have found no details about that. How confusing are all these names ! A MacGregor Laird, the youngest son, was born in 1808 and he would become famous as an explorer in Africa. I’ve found out no traces about the other two children.

From a newspaper obituary I’ve learned that William Laird Macgregor died in Arcachon in 1893, probably in the villa Craigcrostan which had been built in 1880. In 1876, at the time of his meeting with Ellen MacGowan Briddle he is said to have lived in the South of France in a “white marble palace”. He was a great traveller and was accompanied in his travels by his faithful servant named Broughten, probably the same man who used to wait for him at defined checkpoints to fetch, one after the other, the blankets in which his master used to wrap up snugly when he embarked on one of his daily horse-car périples in the streets of Arcachon. We also learn about the old man’s deep affection for Nellie, the author’s little daughter who reminds him of the little girl he had lost. And a few lines full of humour reveal some of the gentleman’s small eccentricities…

Reminiscences of a Soldier's Wife Ellen McGowan Biddle 1907 Stackpole Books 2002

Here’s Ellen MacGowan Biddle’s book. On the cover photo from left to right we can see Act. Master John McGowan, U.S.N., Ellen McGowan Biddle, and Col. James Biddle, 6th Reg. Indiana Volunteer Cavalry.

Below is the page I’ve mentioned a few lines ago, about William Laird Macgregor. I’ve tried to replace it in its context but I recommend the reading of the whole book for it is a very interesting and moving testimony about life in the aftermath of the American Civil War. It reads like an adventure novel and last but not least it is very beautifully written.

Ellen McGowan Biddle portrait Reminiscences of a Soldier's Wife

PREFACE

SITTING on a rose-covered porch, with the odour of jessamine, heliotrope and magnolia all about me, my thoughts went back to the delightful days of my life spent in Mississippi; the inspiration came upon me to write the reminiscences of my army life beginning in that beloved State.

E. McG. B.

SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA.

‘Never set sail to fear :

Come into port grandly
Or sail the seas with God.’

In January, 1876, I started with my little daughter and nurse for Arizona. We took the express train for Chicago, there changed cars for Omaha, and thence to Ogden. The road was not new to me, though it had greatly improved since I first went over it. A short stop was made at Ogden for passengers to identify their luggage and pay for any extra weight they might have. We were soon off again for San Francisco, as we supposed our next stop; but the weather had become very cold, heavy snow was falling, the drifts were great, and we were soon stalled.
The snow-ploughs opened the road over which we had come to a little frontier town, and our regular meals, such as they were, were brought to us from there. Fortunately, I was prepared with some tins of pate de fois gras, chicken and deviled ham, also tea, an alcohol lamp and many other little things packed by my dear thoughtful mother, whom I think no emergency ever found unprepared. We were snow-bound three days before the snow-ploughs succeeded in digging us out. All this trouble has now been overcome and the winter is a delightful time to cross the Continent.

On our arrival in San Francisco we went to the Occidental Hotel, which has always been frequented by army people. We remained there the entire winter. Just as the Colonel was starting from Arizona for me trouble broke out on the Mexican border, and he was ordered out with a squadron to drive back Mexican soldiers from violating neutrality laws; and
on his return from that expedition he had to go out after the Chiracauhuas and Apaches, who were under the celebrated Cochise. The character of Arizona at that time was entirely in favor of the Indians, the food consisting of baked mescal-root and other things growing wild in the land they travelled over, so the raids on the white settlers were almost continuous.

While we were waiting for the Colonel I had the pleasure of seeing many of the friends who were so kind to me during that winter when I was there ill and the Colonel at the Modoc War. We also made the acquaintance through Admiral Almy, U. S. N., of a delightful old English gentleman, named William Laird Macgregor. This gentleman belonged to the famous family of ship-builders named Laird in Eng- land, but being a second son he had taken his mother ‘s name of Macgregor when he inherited her estate in Scotland. He was well known by all the older officers of our navy, whom he had entertained delightfully at his home in the South of France. He was a great traveller and had been making a tour of our country, intending to return home via China ; but had been ill and was obliged to wait until he was strong enough for the voyage. He was over seventy years old, but most intellectual and agreeable, also a little eccentric and very systematic, weighing himself before and after each meal; always carried a pedometer or odometer when walking or riding. Broughten, his excellent valet, looked after him as though he were a child. Mr. Macgregor became very fond of my little daughter, who reminded him of a little girl he had lost many years before. He sent to Scotland for pure jams and candies, and many delightful books, which Nellie still has. He was most kind to us both in many ways and we grew very fond of him. Our friendship lasted until his death, many years after, at Arcachon, Gironde, France, where he had built in that lovely climate a white marble palace. For years after we left him, during the time we were in Arizona, he sent English and French papers to us; and, to my astonishment, one day I saw a letter I had written him, descriptive of our journey to Fort Whipple, printed in one of the English papers. He was kind enough to say that Nellie and I had brightened up his enforced stay in San Francisco. I have always believed in the doctrine of compensation. Surely, here was an example. A few years before strangers had ministered unto me and brightened my sick-room, and now here, in the very hotel, I was able to do the same good turn for a stranger.

Reminiscences of a Soldier’s Wife Ellen McGowan Biddle 1907 Stackpole Books 2002

There are still many zones d’ombres in the life of the Scottish lord, or laird , who owned three villas in Arcachon. So our investigations are going on… Pray Mr Sherlock Holmes, would you help us?

In the meantime, bonne lecture !

A bientôt.

Mairiuna.

John MacCrae - Scott 487 - October 15, 1968

Ken McGoogan, Harper Collins, First Edition 2010

.

In reading Mairiuna’s very moving post “In Flanders Fields…Lest We Forget…“, a question came to my mind: when did John Alexander McCrae’s ancestors emigrated to Canada?

Glancing through the bookshelves of my library, looking for a reference book that could answer this question, I stumbled upon Ken McGoogan’s  book “How The Scots Invented Canada“.

Ah ah! maybe I’ll find my answer in here…

The book is divided in three parts:

• The Pioneers
• The Builders
• The Visionaries

Surfing down the table of contents, I get to chapter 14:  “Ladies from Hell” where I happily can read the title of a sub-chapter: John Alexander McCrae: In Flanders Fields.

Alleluia! I found something!

But, why in the world would John McCrae fall inside a category such as “Ladies from Hell” alongside with Guy Laffin, Margaret MacDonald, and Max Aitken ?!?

Let’s read on…

(…) But during the Great War, 600,000 Canadians had served in the military. More than 60,000 had died and 170,000 were wounded, including some who were disfigured or dismembered. Today, those figures look almost surreal.

Black Watch Piper Figurine

Proportionately, given a population of only eight million, Canada made a contribution which exceeded that of virtually any other country.

During that war, members of Canada’s kilted regiments distinguished themselves. They performed so valiantly that they became known as “the ladies from hell“, because that is what the German troops are said to have called them. People also marvelled at the ethnic diversity of these Scottish battalions. Canadians of various heritages, including my Huguenot-descended grandfather, had taken to identifying themselves as warrior Scots.

And why not? Scots had begun forging a military reputation in Canada as early as the 1750s. Three Scottish regiments fought for Britain during the Seven Years’s War that saw the defeat of New France: : the Black Watch, the Montgomery Highlanders, and the Fraser’s Highlanders.

The first two had already distinguished themselves in that war, the Black Watch with a ferocious but futile assault on Fort Carillon (Ticonderoga), and the Montgomery Highlanders by capturing Fort Duquesne (Pittsburgh) . (…) “

Now we know where the expression came from!

Getting back to my initial quest, here’s what Ken McGoogan reveals about the ancestors of John McCrae.

” The paternal grandparents of the doctor-poet, Thomas McCrae and Jean Campbell McCrae, came from Scotland in 1849 and settled in Guelph, Ontario. Their son David married Janet Simpson Eckford, and John (b.1872) was the second of three children.

He grew up staunchly Presbyterian and attended Central Public School and then Guelph Collegiate Institute. While there, he played the bugle in a military regiment commanded by his father, and also began writing poetry.

Photo by Bill Barber - Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wdwbarber/3012604983/

(…) McCrae had remained involved in the military, moving from Guelph militia regiment to the Toronto-based ‘Queen’s Own Rifles’, where he became a captain and commanded the company. He also continued to write – notably some poems inspired by the death of a woman he loved. While at university, he published sixteen poems and several short stories in various magazines, among them Saturday Night. (…) ”

Ken McGoogan | kenmcgoogan.com

As stated by Peter Mansbridge on the back cover of the book, ‘Ken McGoogan is required reading for any Canadian who want to know the real history of our country’. And that’s just what I am going to do…read the whole book. 

When I started researching on the subject of Scottish migrations to Canada, I was amazed to learn how many emigrants has become Canadian nation-builders from coast to coast, and a little book written by James Alexander Roy, ‘The Scot and Canada‘ is a ‘must’ for all Scottish-Canadian readers.

(…) By the time they have reached the second generation they have become more Canadian than Scot, yet they have retained the qualities that make for success, and have given their racial characteristics to Canada more than any group.

In the first half of The Scots and Canada, Professor Roy outlines the conditions which have governed the growth of the Scottish mentality. In the second half he comes down to cases, depicting some of the outstanding Scots associated with British North America, including those who came to Canada by way of Continental Europe and the United States.

He recalls romantic incidents that have been too lightly forgotten, as for instance in the pages dealing with Flora MacDonald which alone makes the book worthwhile.

The account of Lord Selkirk’s Settlements in Prince Edward Island and on the Red River is particularly good. Admirably told, also, is the story of the Scots in Upper Canada. (…)

Happy reading!

Talk soon,

Janice

PS: being myself a Scottish descendant, for my grandmother, on the paternal side, was Elizabeth Mitchelson, born in Berthierville, QC, Canada on January 1, 1888 from Scot descendant Joseph Mitchelson (b. May 1860) and Celanire Pelland Martin (b. March 1863), residents of ville Jacques-Cartier (which since 1969 was renamed “Longueuil” ) , I’m in the works of sketching out the branches to upper levels of ancestry.  Wish me luck my friends!

Le bassin d'Arcachon old postcard 1958 Scotiana Library

Hi everybody,

Summer is lingering this year, with October already here and temperatures still close to 30° Celsius. But we are not going to complain as we can take advantage of this nice weather to visit some places we try to avoid during the touristic season.

Bassin d'Arcachon - Le Teich Ornithological Park - Storks © 2011 Scotiana

We’ve spent hours following the sunny sandy paths which wind between land and water in the vast ornithological park of Le Teich, observing birds we’re not used to see in our gardens: cormorants, white and grey herons, storks, curlews, spoonbills, coots and so on…

We had taken with us a guide about birds to try to put a name on every beautiful creature we happened to meet there and I’ve tried to write each French name together with its English counterpart on my vocabulary notebook . It can be helpful when we’ll go back to Scotland. We’ve seen so many birds there and some of them are still waiting to be given a name on our photos

Arcachon ville d'été - View from the Belvédère in ville d'hiver © 2011 Scotiana

Determined to enjoy every day of this nice weather we also decided to revisit Arcachon from a new angle, this time venturing into its less known heights rather than following the seafront as we usually do. The town is divided into four parts named after the seasons: “ville de printemps”, “ville d’été”, “ville d’automne” and “ville d’hiver”.

Arcachon ville d'hiver © 2011 Scotiana

Autour du bassin d’Arcachon, on a toujours aimé les paris fous. Comme celui de faire surgir en quelques années une ville au milieu des sables. Arcachon est né de quelques coups de génie. Celui de François Legallais, d’abord, qui décide de profiter de la vogue des bains de mer pour installer un hôtel en 1823 là où n’existaient que quelques cabanes de pêcheurs et une forêt de pins. Mais surtout celui des frères Emile et Isaac Pereire, banquiers actionnaires de la richissime Société des chemins de fer du Midi. Ils ont l’idée d’une ” ville d’hiver ” destinée à accueillir une riche clientèle à la saison froide. Ils achètent des terrains sur les hauteurs d’Arcachon, où les capitaux de leur entreprise permettent l’édification d’un quartier de villégiature. Chalets, villas exotiques, les propriétaires rivalisent de mégalomanie et d’extravagances dans les allées sinueuses.

(“Folies du Bassin d’Arcachon” – Sophie Pujas – Le Point 29-07-2010)

If the winter town is now less popular than the summer town it did have its hour of glory however and it has its charm too.

Arcachon Ville d'hiver Le belvédère Ste Cécile © 2011 Scotiana

We did enjoy our walk along the quiet streets called “Allées”, trying to imagine what was hiding behing the evocative and colourful names of the villas, also climbing up (not me however!) the dangerous steps of the Belvédère which reminded me of the diabolic stair in the psychological horror film La maison du Diable (The Haunting – Robert Wise film – 1963)

The stair in Robert Wise's film The Haunting 1963

When we decided to visit the Ville d’Hiver in Arcachon we had no idea that we would fall on a Scottish Trail there but it was deliberate anyway for I wanted to see one villa in particular: villa Térésa.

Arcachon Ville d'Hiver villa Térésa old postcard

La maison, vaste comme une cathédrale, n’était pas la sienne. On la lui avait prêtée. C’était une folie de la Belle Epoque, classée monument historique comme toutes celles qui l’entouraient – une centaine de villas baroques quand elles n’étaient pas insensées. Avec un immense toit d’ardoises à bordures crénelées, des balcons à balustres et un porche d’entrée si large, si haut qu’il aurait pu accueillir toute une caravane, elle s’insérait dans un ensemble uniformément fin de siècle, telle la pièce d’un gigantesque puzzle. L’architecte qui l’avait dessinée, ennemi des formes simples, avait laissé libre cours à son imagination et abusé des ornements qui plaisaient sous Napoléon III. Des gargouilles, dignes de Notre-Dame de Paris, décoraient les gouttières.

(La Ville d’Hiver Dominique Bona Editions & Fasquelle 2005)

This villa, situated 4 Allée Rebsomen, which had been built in 1882 for an Irish painter is the setting of  La Ville d’hiver, a very interesting  novel by Dominique Bona which  I had read some time before.

A peine le chemin de fer avait-il rendu la région plus aisément accessible que les frères Pereire firent apporter à Arcachon les matériaux utiles à la construction de la Ville d’Hiver – les pierres, les tuiles ou les ardoises, le marbre – ainsi que des tonnes de terre fertile pour créer des jardins d’agrément. Afin d’accueillir les futurs habitants, on avait commencé par édifier une gare… Dans son enceinte, les voyageurs se bousculaient avec meubles et bagages. Car la Ville d’Hiver, si déserte aujourd’hui, avait autrefois ressemblé à une ruche et l’on y débarquait des quatre coins du monde…

Face à la tuberculose qui tuait à petit feu, la Ville d’Hiver offrait un programme de choix. Tout y était pensé, organisé en fonction du terrible bacille : non seulement les rues sinueuses, pour déjouer les mauvais vents, non seulement les murs épais des maisons, leurs innombrables cheminées, pour tenir les malades bien au chaud, mais la forme même des pièces. Arrondies, sans angle mort, elles paraient à la formation des nids de poussière, où les médecins voyaient une des multiples agressions fatales aux poumons.

(La Ville d’Hiver Dominique Bona Editions & Fasquelle 2005)

In this book you learn a lot of very interesting local anecdotes about the Ville d’Hiver and its beautiful villas, also about Arcachon and its area.

Arcachon ville d'hiver - View from the Belvédère © 2011 Scotiana

Though several of its beautiful and sometimes extravagant villas have been demolished to be replaced by modern buildings, this quiet and residential area shelters some of the most picturesque houses I ever saw, each of them wrapped in its mystery with many stories to tell!

Arcachon Ville d'Hiver Craigrostan Villa information board © 2011 Scotiana

But imagine our surprise when we fell upon a magnificent villa which, as we could read on a board, had been built for Laird Mac Gregor, a mysterious Scottish Lord. The house was named “Craigcrostan”, a name with Scottish connotations. This laird must have been a very wealthy man for not only did he buy a dune to have his house built on it but he also was at that time the happy owner of two nearby villas: “Eugénie” which he renamed “Glenstrae” (a Scottish name) and “Hermosa” which he renamed “Soleil Levant”.

At the end of the nineteenth century, thanks to the initiative of audacious local entrepreneurs who first decided to build a railway line and a station there and thanks also to a privileged environment (fine beach, mild climate and vivifying balmy air reputedly good for health, especially for people suffering from pulmonary diseases), Arcachon was gaining ground over the vast and wild forest of pine trees, oaks and shrubberies which had been planted on a boggy area. The place was then  inhabited by a small community of fishers, shepherds and ‘résiniers’. At the end of the nineteenth century it quickly grew into a upper-class seaside resort and famous people used to come there from all over the world: writers (François Mauriac, Cocteau, Alexandre Dumas, Prosper Mérimée, George Sand, Gabriele d’Annunzio, painters (Toulouse-Lautrec, Manet, Dali…), musicians (Gounod, Debussy…) and even imperial or royal guests (Napoléon III, Alphonse XII of Spain, Sissi…).

Le Bassin d'Arcachon - Francois et Francoise Cottin - Horizon Chimerique 2003

“Il est difficile de se représenter ce que pouvaient être les paysages du bassin d’Arcachon avant que ne se développent la forêt et les stations balnéaires. Au début du XIXème siècle, d’immenses étendues marécageuses, couvertes d’ajoncs épineux, de bruyères et d’herbes folles, s’étalaient à perte de vue là où le pin maritime règne aujourd’hui sans partage. La côte de l’Océan inspirait aux voyageurs un effroi à la mesure de sa sinistre réputation. Les souvenirs de vaisseaux échoués, pillés par des naufrageurs, restaient dans toutes les mémoires. L’ensemencement du littoral commençait à peine, et les passes du Bassin, mal signalées, se perdaient dans le moutonnement à l’infini de dunes de sable nu où tout repère semblait impossible (le phare du Cap-Ferret ne sera construit qu’en 1840). Par gros temps, les navires en difficulté préféraient mettre à la cape au large, plutôt que tenter de se réfugier dans la baie.  (Le Bassin d’Arcachon – A l’âge d’or des villas et des voiliers – Avant-propos -  François et Françoise Cottin – Horizon Chimérique 2003)

Arcachon - Villa Craigcrostan © 2011 Scotiana

 Du balcon, elle regardait le palmier et au loin, l’ombre violette des dunes. Tout autour, invisible dans la nuit, s’étendait la ville morte. En se penchant, elle aurait pu apercevoir la mer. Un petit bout de mer, entre le belvédère et les fûts sombres des cyprès. Mais elle ne bougeait pas. Incapable de détacher son regard du bel arbre à l’allure de gardien de phare, que la lune éclairait comme un projecteur, elle laissait le froid l’envahir. Le calme et le silence, si inhabituels à ses sens de citadine, l’enveloppaient entièrement. Un mouvement lui aurait paru offenser le paysage, troubler le mirage d’un bonheur parfait.L’air avait un parfum de citron ; il lui donnait envie de le boire.

(La Ville d’Hiver Dominique Bona Editions & Fasquelle 2005)

So, here we were, in Alley Faust, just in front of  “Craigcrostan”, the beautiful neo-Palladian villa built in 1880 by a London architect for Laird Mac Gregor, a wealthy Scottish lord. The fact that he had renamed villa “Eugénie” into villa “Glenstrae”, after the name of a land occupied by the MacGregor clan in Scotland, shows how deeply attached he was to his Scottish roots. Why he did change “Hermosa’”, the name of his other villa, into “Soleil Levant” I don’t know, but what is sure is that from the “belvédère” (gazebo) of Craigcrostan he could admire the sun rising and setting on the beautiful Arcachon Bay.

Used to come there for health problems Laird MacGregor had finally settled in Arcachon. I’ve read that at that time there was an important English and Scottish community there.  He was known as an eccentric man, never breaking his daily ritual ride in a horse car, beginning its trip snugly wrapped in a lot of blankets which he took off one after the other at defined ‘checkpoints’ where a servant was waiting for him to fetch the blankets back home.

Arcachon villa Craigcrostan © 2011 Scotiana

The large estate looks onto Allée Faust, Allée Brémontier and Allée d’Espagne. The nice brick and stone façade of the house emerges from amidst a luxuriant vegetation with its two levels of columns and its large balconies ornamented with balustrades. With its composite style the house betrays at the same time colonial, Italian and Swiss influences (columns – wooden gazebo- roof with lambrequins). In 1882 the villa was painted in orange and pistachio. I’ve read that the elements of the interior design had all been created in England and that some of them have been preserved (a chimney figuring the twelve months of the year, glass-windows with the MacGregor coat of arms).

Maybe we’ll be given the opportunity to visit it one day though it must have been much easier to do so when Craigcrostan which had become successively the Lycée d’Arcachon and the Lycée Climatique was resounding with children’s cries .

Arcachon villa Craigcrostan © 2011 Scotiana

I’ve looked into my Edward Dwelly Illustrated Gaelic-English Dictionary to try and find something about the name ‘Craigcrostan’.  From what I’ve found there, I inferred that it meant ‘cliff of the puffins’.

A puffin on the island of Staffa, off Iona © 2006 Scotiana

Another Scottish reminiscence! I have never heard about the presence of puffins in France outside Brittany and we’ve been lucky enough to approach some of these friendly birds on the edge of the cliffs which stand on the tiny and magnificent island of Staffa, off Iona.

Last but not least I’ve read that Rob Roy Macgregor (1671 -1734) owned land at “Craigcrostan” in Scotland.

Arcachon villa Craigcrostan - Old postcard c.1900

Just have a glance at this old postcard. Isn’t it fascinating to see what the house looked like at the time of Laird MacGregor… no palm trees then and the architectural details are much more visible…

Arcachon Ville d'hiver - villa Glenstrae © 2011 Scotiana

Here’s Glenstrae… but we’ll have to come back in winter to try and take better photos. The whole town will smell of mimosa then and there will be no more leaves on the trees

Arcachon Ville d'hiver - villa Glenstrae gate © 2011 Scotiana

How we would like to push the gate…

Arcachon villa Glenstrae - Old postcard - Scotiana library

It did not change so much since Laird Mac Gregor times…

Arcachon Ville d'hiver - Villa Soleil Levant (Hermosa) © 2011 Scotiana

Not far from Craigcrostan and Glenstrae we fall upon “Soleil Levant” !

Arcachon Ville d'hiver - Villa Soleil Levant entrance door © 2011 Scotiana

Shall we knock at the door? A woman appears at the threshold and looked at us suspiciously as if we were planning a burglary… we should have introduced ourselves rather than fleeing like burglars…

Arcachon Hermosa Soleil Levant - Old postcard - Source : Arcachon Nostalgie

Villa “Soleil Levant” looked like that in the olden times… it has not much changed either.

Arcachon Place Brémontier - Hunting rendez-vous c.1900 - Scotiana library

Just try to imagine how it was to live there in the olden times… when Laird MacGregor used to ride in his horse car every day. He must have passed here a number of times for the villa Craigcrostan is situated nearby.

Arcachon Ville d'hiver - Allée Brémontier - old postcard 1912

This view has been taken from the garden of the Villa Glenstrae. Its gate with its typical cross comes from Scotland. On the right one can see the villa “Soleil Levant” with its gate open.

On this old postcard you can notice a man or woman riding a donkey and leading another one down Allée Brémontier. Like ‘chasse à courre’ donkey rides were popular leisure activities in the olden times, especially among the wealthy population of Ville d’Hiver.

Our summer walk in the Ville d’hiver had made me eager to know more about that Scottish Laird who owned three beautiful villas in Arcachon but I soon realized it would not be easy task as my first investigations led nowhere.  Another case for Sherlock Holmes However, I ‘ve just discovered something quite interesting about this mysterious descendant of Rob Roy …

So, stay tuned if you want to know more

Bonne lecture !

A bientôt. Mairiuna

Sunset on Bassin d'Arcachon © 2011 Scotiana

Donald Alexander Smith - Lord Strathcona

The answer is: Donald Alexander Smith!

Born in 1820, in the small town of Forres in Scotland, he emigrated to Canada at the age of 18 and is known to most Canadians as Lord Strathcona.

Driving the last spike at Craigellachie, 1885

He made his fortune building railroads and consequently, played a leading role in railway development in Canada. In 1880 he was one of the organizers of the Canadian Pacific Railway, and was chosen in 1885 to drive the last spike at Craigellachie, British Columbia.

Craigellachie is Gaelic for “the rock of alarm.” Instead of alarm, that spike built a nation. A plaque marks the spot where Canada was connected coast to coast.

At the 100th Anniversary of Lord Strathcona Regiment ceremony, the General Governor of Canada wore the jewel “pin” which was manufactured from the last spike.

A regiment bears his name and made itself famous in the Boer war: the Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadians) for which Canada Post issued a stamp on remembrance day, November 11th, 2000 to commemorate Canada’s most illustrous military regiment.

He also became Governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company and High Commissioner for Canada before the end of the 19th Century.

Indian Feathers

His wife, Isabella, was born and brought up near Hudson Bay. When they both left to live in Scotland, Lord Strathcona acquired the Glencoe Estate.

It is said that Isabella was so homesick, that to ease her illness, he recreated, on the estate, a typical canadian forest environment in order for her to feel like “at home”.

Isabella, whose grandmother was a Native American, longed for the waters and forests of her Canadian home. However, she never took to her new country and the couple returned to Canada.

The lochan, in the grounds of what was once the Glencoe estate, built by Lord Strathcona, is now an attractive area of parkland dominated by the the distinctive Pap of Glencoe. When the wind drops, the surface of the water stills and reflects the surrounding hills and woods. Glencoe House is now a hospital.

Take a look at the beautiful scenery one can view while walking around Lochan Loch along the Lochan Trail.

Glencoe Lochan, Scotland - © 2007 Scotiana

Glencoe Lochan, Scotland © 2007 Scotiana

Donald Alexander Smith is a hero of a true “rags to riches” story, Scottish style…

In a description of Strathcona’s native town of Forres, for example, we are told about the luckenbooth pins, shaped like a pair of interlocked hearts and given as love tokens. Strathcona bought one of these for his wife in 1865 [p. 124] and she wore it for the rest of her life, as we can see in the photograph facing page 193.

So that what first appears as a bit of local colour later becomes a symbol of a long and loving marriage. Similarly, accounts of Strathcona’s physical clumsiness culminate in the description of the single most famous act of his life—the driving of the last spike.

This should be known perhaps as the second spike, as his first attempt mangled the spike so badly that it had to be discarded. (The bent spike was to be covered with diamonds and presented to his wife as yet another love token.)

Strathcona dressed appropriately, whether for the bush or the board room, because he was a man who respected conventions. Yet he knew there were times when conventions could be respected too much. How else could he have lived for over 40 years with a woman to whom he was married in every way that counted, except legally? (What with one thing and another, the couple did not undergo a legal ceremony of marriage until they were grandparents in their seventies.)

Isabella Hardisty (1825-1913) was described by Strathcona as his “stay and comforter throughout a long life.” [p. 492] A woman of much intelligence and self-confidence, qualities she seems to have inherited from her maternal grandmother, a woman of the country known as Jeanny Sutherland, she yet did one stupid thing in her life. This was to take up with the hot-tempered and abusive James Grant. She had the courage to leave him and, along with their small son, Jamesie, seek the protection of young Mr Smith.

Soon afterwards, Isabella conceived her only child by Donald, a daughter named Maggie. As McDonald’s describes Lady Strathcona’s death at their home in Grosvenor Square, with her husband at her side holding her hand, she looks back to their beginnings in North West River: “She had seduced him and made him love her and he had never stopped doing so.” [p. 492] Bold words, but they carry conviction. Donald Smith is not likely to have made the first move towards a woman in distress.

http://www.mhs.mb.ca/docs/mb_history/43/lordstrathcona.shtml

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Canadian Yesterdays by Edgar A Collard

So much more to say..it calls for another post. Stay tuned !

Talk soon,

Janice