A lot was happening in young John Darroch's life. In the spring of 1842, he was nineteen years old (turning twenty in December). By this age, many young men would have selected or been pressured into their life's work. Often, young people would be finishing their apprenticeships by the age of 21. Because there is no record of what John did in his late teens, one wonders about the unwritten pages of his story. He very possibly worked with his Dad doing customary weaving or with a local tenant farmer as an agricultural labourer.
Regardless, John had decided against becoming a weaver. It paid well and was a respected vocation, but the industry was in sharp decline. His hometown of Clachan and indeed, all of Scotland, were experiencing cultural, technological, and economic upheavals. John had decided to take a different path and become a blacksmith. That meant leaving his hometown and family to apprentice under a master. This was one of the most pivotal decisions John would ever make.
This vignette imagines what it was like to say goodbye before he left for Glasgow.
It was now several months since John had squared off with his dad and climbed Dunskeig to ponder his life's direction. Peace settled again in the Darroch home as Archie slowly came to terms with John's decision. It still upset Archie at times, for his long-held dream of his son carrying on his trade would never come to pass. Yet he was proud of John's determination to strike his own path. Archie even signed the indenture with the master blacksmith in Glasgow under which John would apprentice. Now it was time to say goodbye.
The Darroch home was busy as friends and relatives stopped by to wish John well. His mother, Mary, busied herself about the kitchen providing snacks to those who came. Over the past few years, local folks had said goodbye to many families who had decided to emigrate or move to urban centres, but they still offered a hearty farewell to John. The first to stop by was Aunt Mary (Archie's younger sister) and her children. She had married later in life. She had just turned 44 and had four children under the age of six.
"So, we're going to have a blacksmith in the family, are we? Of course, you'll come back to open a smithy here in Clachan, won't you?"
"We'll see, Aunt Mary. I want to keep my options open."
"Well, wherever you roam, don't forget the tradition of the stone."
"Thank you, Aunt Mary. I won't. Don't know how I could."
After Mary left, Archie's younger brother, Duncan, and his wife, also named Mary, stopped in with their seven children.
"Uncle Duncan, Aunt Mary, thanks for stopping by."
"So, this has been a day of many goodbyes for you."
"Yes, it has, Uncle. Aunt Mary came by earlier with her young ones."
"At least she's not moving away. It seems there'll be no Darrochs left here at the rate we're moving out!"
"I'm not leaving Scotland, Uncle--just going to Glasgow."
"But I expect you eventually will leave Scotland. Either way, don't forget..."
"...the tradition of the stone," John saw that one coming.
Duncan's seven-year-old son, Johnny, said, "Dad, what do you mean by 'tradition of a stone'?"
John tousled the hair of his namesake cousin. "Just wait. Some day your dad's going to tell you all about that stone. You'll likely never hear the end of it!"
Johnny's seventeen-year-old sister, Mary, broke in. "Cousin, I'll miss you so much! I’ll write to you, just like I write to Kate.”
John's youngest sister, seven-year-old Margaret came over. She smiled and looked up at Mary, who read her expectant look. "All right, wee one. I'll write to you, too."
Soon enough, the guests had all left. In spite of the good feelings generated by all the farewells and good wishes, John felt uneasy. He wasn't anxious about leaving, it was a feeling triggered by cousin Mary's mention of writing to Kate. John could not leave without saying goodbye to her, but she worked as a servant over a mile outside of Clachan, at Ronachan House. After a sleepless night, he decided to leave early enough to dash out to Ronachan. He would then double back through Clachan on his way to Tarbert, where he would catch a boat to Glasgow.
John arose early. He'd have to hurry to see Kate and still have time to get to Tarbert. He skipped breakfast so as to not wake his family. He hefted his duffle bag over his shoulder and quietly latched the door behind him. The street was dark, for heavy clouds blocked the moonlight. A Scotch mist swirled about him. John could hardly see a thing. Ronachan House was about a 30-minute walk.
John arrived at the dark mansion. He hoped Mr. McAlister would not be up, for he would scold Kate for having an unwelcome guest come around. As he stood near a hedge in the garden, he could hear the lapping waves of nearby Ronachan Bay. He peered into the darkness to see if he could discern Kate's window on the third floor. He knew she would soon arise to light the fireplaces. Then he saw it--the flicker of a candle, indicating someone was awake. Was that Kate? John walked out from the hedge and picked up a pebble.
Standing below the third-story window, he tossed the pebble at the glass. Clack! It sounded louder than he expected. A few seconds later, the flickering candle was brought close to the window, but John could not make out the silhouette behind it.
The window opened and a voice said, "Who's there?"
"Kate? It's me, John!"
"Thank goodness it's you! You scared me! Go 'round to the back door--I'll meet you there!"
When the door swung open, Kate embraced John. "I'm so glad you came. Mr. McAlister would not give me time off to come and see you."
"I couldn't bear to leave without saying goodbye. Kate, you've been there for me my whole life."
Kate smiled. "Of course. What choice did I have? I was born first!"
"That's not what I mean. For example, as a teenager, you'd make sure I had enough to eat when Dad was trying to be frugal with the potatoes."
"He forgot what it is like to be a teenager! Anyway, what's an extra spud here and there?"
"It meant a lot to me at the time. Well, Sis. This is it. I'm off to make my fortune, as they say."
"You're catching the coach to Campbeltown? It doesn't come through until much later."
"No, I'm walking to Tarbert. I'm pinching pennies, and it's only three hours' walk."
"Well, you'd best get started. You've added an extra hour by coming out here!"
"It was worth every minute, Sis. I am so glad we could say goodbye."
"Godspeed, John."
John walked off into the mist.
Kate closed the door. Is this all there is to it? Something felt amiss. Then she realized what it was. She ran back upstairs to her room, grabbed something, flew down the stairs to the kitchen, snatched her coat in the back hall, and raced out the door. Had John gone too far down the road for her to catch him?
"John! John! Wait up--I have something for you!"
There was no answer.
We do not know what John's farewell was like when he left Clachan, or how often he returned home once he was in Glasgow. The apprentice agreements were so rigid they may have precluded frequent trips home if any at all. This would have been a big step in John's life, and I am confident his family gave him a hearty sendoff. I introduced several of John's relatives for two reasons. The first was to get a feel for the number of namesakes that existed. For example, there were at least six Marys in Clachan to say goodbye to John:
Mary Milloy (John's mother, Archie Darroch's wife).
Aunt Mary Darroch (Archie's sister, married to Dugald McAlpine).
Cousin Mary McAlpine (seven-year-old daughter of Mary and Dugald, above).
Aunt Mary McBride (Archie's sister-in-law through his brother, Duncan Darroch).
Cousin Mary Darroch (seventeen-year-old daughter of Duncan Darroch and Mary McBride).
Mary (John's sibling, who would have been 11 at the time of his departure).
Mary MacAlpin (John's paternal grandmother) may also have been there, but we do not know when she died--just that she pre-deceased her daughter, Mary, who died in 1862.
So many Marys! It helps that Scottish women often kept their surname after marriage. Otherwise, it would be a genealogist's undoing!
The second reason I introduced some relatives is that some play a role in subsequent events. For example:
John's younger cousin, Johnny, certainly did remember the "tradition of the stone." In 1864, he and his younger brother, Archibald, renewed Mulmorich's gravestone, making it readable for another 150 years. (Read more here: The Tradition of the Stone.)
Seventeen-year-old Mary did write to John's youngest sister, Margaret. The women corresponded years later when Margaret was living in Canada. Frank Darroch included three of those letters in his red book. If you wish to read some 19th-century insight and sass, check out Mary's letters here.
In the next post, we will follow John to Glasgow and to the smithy where he'll spend his next seven years, but not before we find out why Kate was calling and running after him in the fog!
References:
The 1841 Scotland Census lists Kate as a servant at Ronachan House for Alexander McAlister, a 60-year-old widower, and his 20-year-old son.
The names and ages of extended family members are taken from FamilySearch.org (retrieved January 12, 2021).