|
PREFACE
This book is dedicated to
the family and is intended to throw some light on what would otherwise be
a dark spot. These stories I heard told when young around Ingle or Hearth,
none of which I have been in the habit of telling my children for the
reason I have always been busy ---and which I enjoyed so much---have often
made me think they would like to know something of our ancestors and how
they lived. And so I have been compelled to write this book in leisure.
DAVID MORRIS
May 20, 1910.
DAVID MORRIS AND ANCESTRY
I was born in a small house
about one-half mile from Coupar Angus in Fortashire, Scotland, in the year
1844 on the 25th day of October and was the sixth child of my
mother and seventh of my father. There was one younger than I. The names
are as follows: George who died in youth; (father’s son by not mother’s);
Jess, born October 25th, 1832; Peter, born about two years
later; James, born about two years later; Rachel, born about two years
after James and who died about 1886; Jane Ann, David (myself) and John.
These are the names of my father and mother’s children as they wer born
unto them.
George died when young and
had no children. Peter, is now old and has no children and all the
remainder have large families. Thus I have given a brief of my father’s
family so far.
Of my ancestors I know very
little --- in fact nothing but by tradition and will here put down all I
know.
In the feudal times when
Scotland was divided into Clans and hereditary Lordships and when there
were highland chiefs and Lowland Lords. Then my grandfather was a young
man and lived with his parents on a small farm at a place near camp Moore.
[Campmuir? Which is about a mile Southwest of Markethill] About this time
the war of the rebellion, or as some call it, the war of the Pretender*,
began. There were five brothers all living at home as the custom was in
those days, attending on My Lord as he was called. Now this lord was no
less a personage than the great Putcur [should be Pitcur?] whos place and
castle still stood in my boyhood days. It stands about three hundred yards
off the main turnpike road running between Dundee and Coupar Angus (or
Coupar in Angus) about two and a half miles from Coupar Angus and about
eleven and one-half miles from Dundee in the Parish of Katence, which
village [Kittens?] is about one mile from Coupar Angus. And there would
any of have to go if we wished to trace our birth or marriages backward
*and I think it very probable that my father and mother were
married here, at Coupar Angus or in Storemount, as all my mother’s people
lived there in Storemount; her maiden name was Christinie or Christinia
Pilliar [Could be Piliar] and to the best of my ability to state her home
was about three or four miles East or Southeast of Dunkell [Dunkeld?] at
the entrance to the highlands of Scotland on the river Tay. Her people
lived there when I was a boy* and the place was known to me as
the Storemount, being a good large district including some villages, but I
never knew there names. And here it would be well to say that some of my
father’s children might have been born in Coupar Angus or Miggle [Meigle?]
and they would be registered there.
Now to return to my great
grandfather; he as his four other brothers, went to the war and followed
Prince Charley and of course shared in his downfall. Well, the battle of
Coloden [1745] was fought as history tells and Charlie and his followers
were scattered and of the five brothers who followed him one returned to
comfort the declining years of the old people.* This man was my
great-grandfather and then he moved after his father’s death to a place
called Kirksteps by the side of a running stream and how long they lived
there I do not know, but my grandfather engaged in horse trading and the
like was considered to be fairly well off. While he was yet comparatively
young he moved from Kirksteps to Markethill, one half mile form Coupar
Angus on the west side of the Dundee turnpike road and there ended his
days in the same parish in which he was born and was buried in the same
churchyard lot as his father had been which lots are three grave breadths
and situated about thirty feet from the West end of the parish church and
in direct line with the South wall on the church.(Parish Church of Katence
in Fortashire, Scotland.) [Newhall Parish?]
Grandfather died at the age
of eighty-four years. Grandmother at the age of eighty years.
Grandfather’s name was James Morris and Grandmother’s Rachel whose maiden
name was Wilson. Their family was three sons and two daughters – Jame,
David and Peter. James emigrated to Canada in 1832 sailing from Glasgow
Scotland and he is generally supposed to have died very rich about 1863 or
1864. David died about 1855 or 1856 and was buried in the family burying
ground in the Parish church yard. Peter, who was also my father, died in
1869, aged 63 years in the same house in which he was born and was buried
in the same grave in which his wife was buried twenty three years
before.** She was my mother and her maiden mane was Chistinia Pillar, her
age at death being 39 years.
This I am writing for the
benefit of my own family and from recollection of the tales told
twenty-five or thirty years ago and if some things seem anything but
straight or parallel excuse these blunders and oblige.
THE IMMEDIATE FAMILY OF
DAVID MORRIS
In this chapter I will give
a brief outline of what I know of my Grandfather’s children’s relations.
Some of them are engaged in manufacturing in or near Coupar Angus and grew
to be pretty well off but most of them I knew were old maids and lived in
fine houses but never acknowledged us or seemed to know we lived. The
cause was said to be my father’s highmindedness – But I think our poverty
more likely. They were highly respected by everybody in the community.
Here I will give the names
of my brothers and sisters and age as near as I know them:
Jess, born October 25th,
1832
Peter, born September, 1834
James, born 1836
Ratchel, born 1838
Jane Ann, born 1841
David, born October 25th, 1844
John, born 1846
George was about the age of
Jess or a little older, being the son of my father but not of my mother
and he died when yet in his teens.
Of these children of my
father and mother one has died and six are living. The living are Jess,
whose home is in Nebraska; Peter now in South Africa; James in South
Africa [James and/or Peter might have owned a diamond mine]; Rachel, died
about 1886; Jane Ann, residing in Kansas City; David, (myself) residing in
Kansas City; John also residing, in Kansas City, Missouri.
THE FAMILY OF DAVID AND
HANNAH MORRIS
Now I am going to write
somewhat of my own self and family. I was sent to the parish school and
soon learned to read and write a little and there my schooling stopped for
a long time. I was then apprenticed to the stone cutting trade and served
nearly five years but got served out when I was twenty years and seven
months old. I then went to Dundee and worked for about three months but as
I had an inclination to roam I went to New Castle on the Tyne, England and
there and there worked about a year and then I went to Carlyle and two or
three months again. From there I went to Leeds in Yorkshire, visiting York
and Selby on the way.
In passing I will here give
an incident which happened to me. It may deter some one from doing what I
did when working at or near New Castle on the Tyne. I had a young man for
a companion who played to piccolo or flute and we were working for a man
who gave and required to be given two weeks notice to quit and he kept
saying let us go to Rothbury, a small town where there was a large hotel
being built on the river Annan – all stone. At last he prevailed and I
consented but so impatient was he that although we agreed I should give
notice to quit, I being the oldest, he had hardly laid eyes on the boss
before he rushed to him and told him we were to quit on a certain day but
before that day came he wanted me to go and ask the boss to work on but I
would not. He went home to his father and I went to Rothbury where I had a
very rough time.
Never listen to such men
they always deceive one.
GENEOLOGY OF HANNAH
MORRIS
I will here give some
account of Hannah Fletcher who became my wife. She was the daughter of
Joseph and Elizabeth Fletcher who lived at Grotton not far from Saltburn
by the Sea and her father’s people were well to do and owned the farm of
the Shaw near Salem Bridge. The Shaw farm is still owned by the Fletchers
but of two generations later. The wife’s maiden name was Prudom who was
also well to do and lived near Egton Bridge in Yorkshire, England (about
six miles from Whitby) but I think the name is lost out of that family
there. There were four sisters; Mrs. Searl, Mrs. Hugill, Mrs. Petty and
Mrs. Fletcher who was the oldest of the four sisters and of whom I wish to
write.
Grandmother Prudom was very
proud and very anxious that her marry children should marry well and as
grandmother Fletcher loved and wished to marry a poor stone cutter, her
mother (grandmother Prudom) under threat of disinheritance compelled her
to marry Mr. Fletcher and she being of rather submissive disposition
submitted and as a result no happiness in the family. Father Fletcher had
a sister who lived with them in Grotton who domineered over Mrs. Fletcher
to such an extent that they together cowed and almost broke the heart of
Mrs. Fletcher.
Then there came a man by
the name of T. Taylor who had a great deal of influence over Mr. Fletcher
and his sister and persuaded them to sell their property and entrust their
money to him and them by his influence and their pleading poverty, they
could get Mrs. Fletcher into an asylum at the State’s expense. His scheme
succeeded all right and when Taylor got all the contents of the grocery
store and the realty (for they owned the store as well as the pretty stone
house they lived in) and Grandmother Fletcher (the wife) in the asylum at
York, Taylor kept the money and as Fletcher had pleaded poverty to get his
wife to the asylum he could not sue at law Taylor got the money and
Fletcher got poverty and disgrace.
The children were cared for
by relatives of the Prudoms until they were able to take care of
themselves. The offspring of this unhappy marriage were three daughters,
Hannah, Elizabeth, and Isabella – two of whom remain and Isabelle is
deceased.
Mr. Fletcher did not long
survive the things just narrated above. He went to work as a laborer at
Marske by the Sea and while doing something in or with a stone had his leg
hurt and died of blood poisoning and was buried in Marske churchyard and
there he sleeps within hearing of rush and roll of the great Atlantic
Ocean until the day of resurrection and his wife sleeps in the asylum
burying ground at York by the waters of the beautiful river Ouse, one of
the most lovely and quiet spots I have ever seen and no one think for a
moment that these people came from a mean or low stock of people for all
in that country those people’s descendants who are merged into the
Robinsons and Briggs through the Prudom side and Fletcher by the father’s
side are very highly respected.
As for me I have told what
related to me when I lived in Lingdale, England by distant relatives of
the Fletchers and the denounced Thomas Taylor of Skelton in no uncertain
language but I will leave all to the mercies of God which is greater than
man’s.
The foregoing relates
entirely to the family of Hannah Morris and leads up to the present
generation.
PRESENT GENERATION
It is needless to give an account of my
travels through the country in search of work and my successes and
disappointments and the trial I went through but after long years of
looking at things I have come to the conclusion that the wage earners of
all countries are a very much abused people. They are treated worse than
the animals by those who are in power and have the losses to make up out
of their ranks.
After living in Leeds about
two months I became acquainted with Hannah Fletcher and kept company with
her for about fourteen months and then we got married on the second day of
June, White Tuesday or Whitsentide week, A.D. 1868 at a place called
Stockley in the Parish of Stockley in Yorkshire, England and the wedding
was witnessed by a good many people but there were few relatives, being
most friends on her part. Uncle John Hughill, then living at Easby about
three miles from Stockosley (south-east) was there.
We then went to Middlesboro
and stayed about two weeks and from there we moved to Leeds where we lived
about two years and where there were two children born to us. William,
born June 24th, 1869 and Joseph born May .., 1870 who died in
infancy.
All the foregoing pages
were written in the fall of 1892 and a great change has come over the
writer. I feel lonely and my children are all grown up and I long to see
them in the church of the living God for there is nothing that will
comfort in old age as the hope in God. (Sunday, May 12th,
1907.)
Ed. NOTE: David and Hannah
Morris with their children came to America in 1881.
SUPPLEMENT
The house in which I first
saw the light of day and with which most of my early recollections are
connected, stands on the West side of the Dundee Public road at the
junction of the Dundee and Greenburn roads.[Greenburns is a small town to
the North East of Markethill] Two houses stood joined together; on
thatched with straw and the other had a slate roof. The family of Peter
Morris lived in the farther from the Dundee Road ie the Westermost one.
Now there were three similar houses right there but only one stood with
its end to the road. The other two stood parallel to the Dundee road.
On leaving Coupar Angus
going South by or on the Dundee road the first landmark forty years ago
(it is that long since I saw it) was the church yard and the old abby
overgrown with Ivy – the real ivy that is always green. Then came the
lover’s Lane for the lovers in those days and that town like in all towns
in all ages, loved the secluded spots as they do in our day. Then came
Stoneknee (spoken Stonee) and the stone bridge from which it took its
name. [Looking at a 2002 map of the area, there are the roads Abbey Rd and
Abbey Gdns just south of Coupar Angus]
I remember there being a
toll gate there where teams had to pay for using the macadam highway and I
remember when it was taken away and made a free highway known then as the
King’s Highway. The houses were on both the East and the West sides of the
road. The burn or creek flows toward the East and then a little further
on, on the East side of the road was Drinkstill. Further South on the West
side of the road came the house in which I was born, the Westmost of the
two known by the name of Markethill. [Markethill is on the 2002 map just
south of a creek]
The burnside path from the
dam of Buldunnie [Baldinny? Where there is a creek and small lake in 2002,
not too far away is also a Newton of Ballunie] to make a short cut to
McBeth’s hill should be followed. The dam being left we cross the burn on
a foot plank. Here the saw-mill stands where the trees on the estate of
Hallburton [Mains of Hallyburton and Hallyburton Ho are by the lake] were
converted into lumber for fences and to rebuild farm buildings. The farmer
hauled the trees to the mill then when Mr. Spaulding and his son Charley
had converted them into lumber they hauled them away for Lord Hallburton’s
carpenders to build or repair, with them as the case might be. This (Bugove)
saw mill had mysteries of murder and shadow hobgoblins which we youngsters
never were able to fully unravel.[There is a Balgove around a mile
Southwest of Hallyburton] The ghosts were even so bold as to be seen on
the King’s Highway anywhere from the dam of Buldunnie to the wagon road
leading to the saw mill.
Leaving the sawmill one
comes to the farm of Bugove [Balgove] where we again cross the burn – this
time on the wagon bridge and from this farm to the Ford of Pitcur [Ford of
Pitcur] where the wagons cross this burn on a stone bridge; along this
pathway is a scene of beauty when the Hawthorne is in bloom but scenes
change while memory holds them as last seen.
At this stone bridge foot
passengers for MacBeth’s hill have to take the driveway or wagon road.
Those for the Gaskill Heep, the burnside or for the Corse of Gowrie do the
same thing but the path on the upper burnside is more rugged the the lower
and less lovely and beautiful.
Now for MacBeth’s hill.
Starting from Markethill, the name of the place I was born in, and looking
South and a little West, it can be seen about five mile away. [reality it
is not that far] Moving along this direction we will take a walk to it
starting out at eight in the morning, South on the Dundee road past the
beach wood then the cross road known as the Kantance road is passed. [Kettins]
Following this the mile post and presently we arrive to the dam of
Bulldunie (spoken Budunnie) and you have reached a famouse hedge of
Holleywood, the only one I ever saw which was cared for in my boyhood in
fine condition.
Looking around here a
little and one sees going East the carriage drive to Lord Hallburton’s
residence about a half mile away with its turnouts North and South and
large shade trees standing in the triangle formed by the intersection of
the curves with the main road. Here also is the burn or creek coming over
out of the Gaskill.
Let us leave this by the
path along the burnside. But before passing I would say that at this
carriage drive entrance there has been built a lodge cottage by Hallburton,
the name of the estate on which we lived for we were only lodgers or
renters, along the path by the burnside, foot passengers go for a short
cut, but by the main road or driving, one has to keep on going South until
one comes to the four road ends or cross roads where the cottage of Putcur
[Pitcur] stands in the Northeast angle.
At Putcur stands the ruin
of an old castle where the Lord of Putcur lived and all the surrounding
country was his retainers and vassal’s land and when he said go to war and
rob some neighbor and steal his cattle and kill his men and take captive
his wives and children they did if they could. If they did not many of
them would be killed and some captured and made vassals or kept in prison
perhaps for years. Then the neighbor who beat in battle would make a
counter raid and redeem cattle and maybe his retainers also. This was the
kind of life lead in that country until after the union of England and
Scotland.
The scenes I have described
were everywhere in the land but more especially in the Highlands and the
border country between England and Scotland.
Again resuming the journey
to MacBeth’s hill at the cottage of Putcur, turn West and the first thing
you meet of interest is the little town called the Ford of Putcur which I
have before mentioned. Then passing through the Ford keep straight on
West. The next we come to is the cross road at the Gask farm then on West
past the hill called the Gaskhill and next to the Fel’s farm (I think).
[There is the town of South Gask on the map here]
Then came the hill on which
MacBeth’s castle stood. There one has to leave the team if they have one
and proceed on foot. There was some kind of road up to it but we never
cared for a road as we went through the field over the fences and through
the wood and jumped the creek or burns and if we could not jump them (and
I don’t remember any we could not) we waded them. We got to the summit of
the hill on a fine July morning and there find the trenches where the
walls stood, full of grass and red berries, at least they were in my day.
[If this is on the map it is Cairn. I can’t find any connection to MacBeth]
On the East side of the
hill is a chasm between two hills, which I should judge was thirty or
thirty-five foot wide and about fifty feet deep with natural vertical
walls of stove and flat on the bottom which runs North and South and makes
a barrier over which no one could possibly pass. To the South the same
rock makes ascent almost perpendicularly and could not be climbed without
great labor if at all. All of the hills I have named are almost
perpendicular rocks facing Southward but facing Northward the ascent is
steep but even and can be climbed by a pedestrian though with hard work.
Also to the Northwest the ascent is not so bad.
Now getting onto the site
of the castle. It seems as though they had pulled down the walls and
heaped them in the center for there in the center was the highest place
and from it you can see the woods of Scune and Corse of Gowry[Carse of
Gowrie] and the Kingdom of Fife lying away to the South and East with the
River Tay flowing right on through the valley and into the firth of Fife
of Firth of Tay and it is a wonderful scene of beauty as on a July morning
when the skies are clear. Then turn and look Northern and you have a view
of the Grampian Hills from Dunkell to the Grenisley (spoken Grenily) and
between you and the Grampians lays the valley of Strathmore and right
North and a little East lies Markethill. Coupar Angus is plainly in sight
as also the myers of Meigel where MacBeth was supposed to have been slain,
They lay in the bend of the River Isla just about two and a half South of
the town Glamis. This river is lost in the Tay at or near Mucleham, I have
forgotten just what they called the place but it was just about two miles
West of the bridge I have already described.
I here intend to write
about the bridge over the Isla River near Muckelour [Meikleour] but I find
I have only mentioned two bridges, that at stonee and the Ford of Putcur
neither of which is the one over the Isla. This bridge is near the
junction of the Tay and the Isla rivers about a half mile from the
junction and is a notable piece of work being of solid masonry. It was
built sometime in the thirties or forties. Building of good roads was the
craze in the country in 1840 when the people crusaded for them, The span
is about eighty or one hundred feet and rises from the high water mark
until the crown of the arch is reached. It is the segment of a circle yet
the crown rises a great height above the water and the high ground on each
side of the river affords splendid opportunity to make approaches to the
bridge on each side. The road crosses almost on a level with the wings of
the abutments and are carried out to the high ground at the North end of
the bridge. There stands a row of exceedingly tall beech trees in a hedge
form and so close together one could not pass between the butts; they
might have been cut down by this time however. [The map list a Bridge of
Isla here and to the North is a place called Meikleour Beech Hedge]
In the town of Muckelour
when I worked there in 1862, I think stood a stone which, when the ruling
law chained prisoners up by the neck, stood on the coom grounds and was
about seven feet high and two and a half feet wide and almost eight inches
thick. Through this stone at about the height of a man was drilled a hole
into which was thrust an iron bolt. Attached to this bolt was an iron
chain three or for links – good and stout – and at the end of the chain
was an iron collar. It had a hinge in the back and when a man stood up
against the stone, the chain allowed the collar to be clasped around the
neck and thus he had to stand as long as his punishment lasted. It was the
instrument of punishment which I have ever seen of its kind and I never
heard of another. It will still be there for that country stone will stand
exposed to the weather a thousand years. A crust grows on its surface but
it does not crumble like the stone of this country.
One can also see from a
vantage point Blairgowrie on the River Erick but forfar, Perth and Dundee
are hidden by the bend in the hills at Glamis.
There is another historical
castle in the corse of Gowrie then the castle of Earldoom but as boys we
disregarded those titles which our elders reverenced.[couldn’t verify this
one but there is a Megginch Castle by Errol? In the area spoken of. There
are some unnamed castles in the area as well.] There is one more place I
will mention before I leave off that is the castle of Myerthly [Murthly]
situated in the bend of the River Tay about three miles down from Dunkell
[Dunkeld]. This place has a fine cut stone castle building and when I
visited there about forty-eight years ago the roof was intact and it was
all closed up. After spending his fortune laying out the grounds and
building the walls of the castle, the Master of the estate retired to
private life to save money to finish the inside but died before he had
succeeded. I will now try to describe it first. After crossing the River
Tay on the Ferry Boat which at this point is a very rapid current, you
almost immediately come to the grounds of the Murthley estate and when on
foot walk along a gravel smooth path with shrubs and flowers on both sides
and the grounds were laid out beautifully everywhere. One could look on
all sides and there were beautiful beds of every kind of flowers and
shrubs and after about an hour’s walk come to the castle or home place.
When I was here, I was met by my oldest brother who was then an assistant
gardener who took me all over the gardens and through the castle and on to
its roof. The gardens were all enclosed with stone walls seven or eight
feet high with large iron gates hung in the sides so that they would allow
wagons to pass. Now the garden in that part of the world is used mostly
for raising vegetables. They have hot houses in them and hot beds and
mushroom houses and also have some flowers but although they grow some
rare flowers in the garden the greater part of them are to be found in the
grounds surrounding the mansions themselves.
From the roof of the castle
there is a fine view if this part of the Tay Valley which is fine for
scenery, There is a high rolling ground to the South for her the river Tay
makes a perfect letter [backward] S starting from Dunkell [Dunkeld]
running East to Muckelour [Meikleour] thence West to Perth, then East
through the Corse of Gowrie [Carse of Gowrie] and along the shores of Fife
and pas Dundee and Broughty Ferry into the Firth of Tay and Myrthly [Murthly]
castle lays in this enclosure.
DAVID MORRIS
May 20th, 1910
[Information in brackets
were added by Roger Allen Morris the great great grandson or David Morris,
great grandson of David Morris, Grandson of Harold D. Morris, son of
Robert H Morris] |
