Category Archives: Scotland

A Twist of Fate

By Susan Gingras Calcagni

My great-grandfather, William Irvine, born on 31 August 1864 in Maryton, Kirriemuir, Forfar, Scotland1 was devastated by the death of his eldest daughter, Mary Ann, in 1911. Heartbroken, William was ready to hand over his lease as a publican and make preparations to sail to Canada with one of his daughters, Georgina. The 1911 census reveals that William was a Spirit Merchant at the Camperdown Pub located at 144 High Street in Dundee, Scotland.  William and his family were living at 22 Peel Street in Lochee, Dundee,3 just a 10-minute walk from the pub. This was a popular pub with the workers of the Camperdown Works, the largest jute factory in the world at the time.4 By spring 1912 William had found a new owner who was interested in taking over the pub and William had finalized preparations to emigrate to Canada.

Subsequently, William was shocked and dismayed to learn that his emigration to Canada would need to be delayed. James Jones, the new owner, could not take over the lease to the pub as planned. His son was due to return from India and the transfer of the lease had to wait until his return. This would have been overwhelming for William and this new development significantly altered the plans he had set in motion for a new life. He had come this far and would hold on to the one silver thread to achieve his goal. I can only imagine his strength and determination in the face of this situation and the need to change his plans.

While I was growing up, my Aunt Gladys Fairlie, my mum’s sister, was very keen to learn from her grandmother, Betsy, William’s wife, about her family history. As William Irvine died in 1931 in Montreal, Quebec,5 Betsy was the only one living to tell the family stories. Now here is where the family lore comes into play. Gladys was born in Canada, and not having immigrated, she would ask her grandmother why they came to Canada. Betsy told her that it was due to the death of their eldest daughter. It was said that this broke William’s heart and therefore he decided to leave Scotland for Canada. One can only dare say how devastated they must have been when forced to contend with the loss of their daughter, Mary Ann, at the tender age of 17 years old. As genealogists, we are often under the impression that our ancestors usually emigrated for economic reasons and opportunities to better their lives. In this case, it was not the sole cause for my family.  It was heartbreak, and further research revealed that it was an overwhelming one for William.

While researching William and Betsy’s immigration to Canada, I found that William was a widower at the time of his marriage to Betsy (something we weren’t aware of).6 A well-known step in researching family history is to leave no stone unturned, so I dug deeper into the records to learn that William had first married in December 1887.7 Unfortunately the death of Mary Ann in 1911 was not the first tragedy in his life. On 8 February 1888, his first wife, Mary McGregor Grimmond died days after giving birth.8 This was followed quickly by the death of their twin daughters, [Mary and unknown] on 29 February 1888.9 Chills ran through my body as I could only imagine how devastated my great-grandfather must have felt with grief and sorrow in his heart. My quest to learn more had increased ten-fold.

Moving forward, in 2002 plans for travel to Scotland were underway to learn more about my ancestors and especially about William and Betsy’s emigration to Canada. My Aunt Gladys and I were embarking on a fact-finding mission with the hope of confirming the stories she had been told by her grandmother over the years. Airline tickets were purchased and reservations were booked with plans to spend time in Dundee. I sent emails to the Dundee City Archives to book appointments to review the records to locate the address of the Public House where William was a publican and any other pertinent particulars we may extract. Meanwhile, I contacted the Balgay Cemetery in Dundee to plan a visit to the gravesite of Mary Ann Irvine. My Aunt Gladys had always yearned to locate and visit her grandfather’s pub and her Aunt Mary Ann’s gravesite. My desire to seek out these details were equally shared. My mission was underway and there was no disappointing my aunt.

With all the information swirling in my head, I was eager to start my quest. However, here is where my curiosity really started to unfold. Gladys was also told that William had his passage to Canada in the making and that the new owner of the Public House requested that William delay his departure, as noted above in this story. When we visited the Dundee Archives, you can imagine how thrilled we were when shown the entry at the Dundee City Archives10 with evidence that there was indeed an alteration in the transfer of the lease for the Public House located at 144 High Street, Lochee, Dundee between William Irvine and James Jones, Spirit dealers. Betsy, William’s wife, told the story that William was dismayed that he was required to stay on longer just until Mr. Jones’ son arrived back from India. Mr. Brian Cullens of the Dundee City Archives, who I had contacted by email, remarked that day on our visit that William probably had needed to alter his arrangements for his passage to Canada. This delay in the transfer of the lease saved William and Georgina’s lives. Originally William and Georgina had booked their passage on the RMS Titanic that left Southampton, England on April 15, 1912 but these tickets had to be cancelled. Eventually William and Georgina travelled on the Allan Line’s SS Scandinavian which departed from Glasgow on June 29, 1912, two months after the RMS Titanic’s fated voyage.11 After confirming at the Dundee City Archives that William did, indeed, change his travel plans made Aunt Gladys and I realize that we were in Dundee in 2002 because of this remarkable twist of fate.

Extracts from the Dundee City Archives, 2002

While in Dundee in 2002, we also visited the site of William Irvine’s pub which was then called the “Last Tram” located at 144-146 High Street. Below is a picture taken during this trip. This name of the pub honoured the historic end of the Dundee’s tram service in October 1956. In earlier years, the Camperdown Tavern, was nicknamed the “Tommy” or the Wounded Tommy. The soldiers of WWI who were badly wounded and who recuperated in Bright Street nearby the tavern at the Union Street Church Hall were nicknamed the “Tommies.” They were patrons of the tavern because the wounded soldiers would find it easy to enter and exit with no steps from the street level.12

The Last Tram, Dundee, Scotland, family photo by author, 2002

Often, as genealogists, we are asked why we do family history. Greater than the sum of these fragments, here is one of my responses. On the train ride leaving Dundee, Gladys and I were sitting there, and while crossing the Tay Rail Bridge, my aunt turned and looked at me. In a surreal tone she expressed her thoughts, “What would my grandparents and my mother think to know that I was there and sat in the family’s Public House, the same brick and mortar, and visited the Balgay Cemetery gravesite of my aunt that I had never met.”  This squeezed my heart knowing that I had fulfilled a dream of the person who has always been my soul mate and inspiration in life and genealogy, my dearest Aunt Gladys.

  1. New Register House Scotland, Statutory Birth Records, 1864, William Irvine, accessed 2000.
  2. ScotlandsPeople, Statutory Death Records, 1911 Mary Ann Irvine, accessed 2006.
  3. ScotlandsPeople, 1911 UK Census, accessed 2011.
  4. Wikipedia, Camperdown Works, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camperdown_Works, accessed 22 June 2026.
  5. Ancestry, Drouin Collection, Grace Anglican Church, Montreal, Quebec, accessed 5 August 2026.
  6. New Register House Scotland, Statutory Marriage Records, 1892, William Irvine and Betsy Smith Lawson, accessed 2000.
  7. ScotlandsPeople, Statutory Marriage Records, 1887,William Irvine and Mary McGregor Grimmond, accessed 2008.
  8. ScotlandsPeople, Statutory Death Records, 1888, Mary McGregor Grimmond, accessed 2008.
  9. ScotlandsPeople, Statutory Death Records, 1888, Mary McGregor Grimmond Irvine, accessed 2008.
  10. Dundee City Archives, Liquor Licensing Records, William Irvine, accessed 2002.
  11. Findmypast, Passenger Lists leaving UK 1890 -1960, William Irvine, accessed 2007.
  12. Wikipedia, Camperdown Works, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camperdown_Works, accessed 6 August 2026.

Auntie Ann’s Second Sight

Second sight has a long tradition in Scotland, more particularly in the Highlands and among Irish-Scots.  Scots are a superstitious people and many believe even today in the gift or curse of the second sight. 1 My family was Irish-Scots and maybe this is why they believed that they had family members with this gift. It is called the second sight is because the first sight is our normal vision that everyone has. Only some people have inherited the second sight. There are many Gaelic words for the second sight, the most common being An Da Sheallad, meaning two sights.2

Auntie Ann always said that she had inherited the gift of premonition. She knew things before they were going to happen. She also claimed that she could ‘feel’ things about people.

Ann Lynn McHugh Smith (1897-1975)

“Such nonsense!” my mother would snort when we got back in the car after visiting Auntie Ann. Her sister-in-law always had a story or two about the times she could foresee the future or just knew something. I used to listen in open-mouthed wonder while my father squirmed uncomfortably. My mother held her tongue during the visits but I could feel her bristling with indignation.

One time Auntie Ann told a story that scared me for years. She was in her kitchen and she felt a cold shadow pass over her. She knew something terrible had happened and she learned later that a toddler had fallen to his death in the neighbourhood.

Another story that struck me was about Auntie Ann’s son, Tommy Smith, when he was overseas during World War II. He was injured in battle and she claims to have sat right up in bed because she knew he was going to be injured in the leg.  When I was little, I could easily imagine Auntie Ann sitting up in bed, terrified and unable to reach her son.

There are detailed written accounts of incidents involving the second sight since the 17th century in Scotland. They have been collected by modern day folklorists and ethnographers. These include many detailed descriptions about how the prophecy appeared to the person with the second sight. Sometimes people saw exactly what was going to happen. At other times, they saw symbols and interpreted them. Sometimes these visions were accompanied by smells and sounds.3

When I would ask my dad about Auntie Ann’s second sight, he would answer that Scots believe that this ability runs in families and that Auntie Ann was convinced that she had this gift. But I wanted to know whether my father believed it. I realize today that my father didn’t want to hurt his sister so he never really said one way or the other.

Ethnographers are sure that the second sight is an inherited ability.4 However, no one in our family has this ability now. And what would my mother say? “Hogwash!”

  1. McCain’s Corner, Barry McCain, blogger, The Second Sight Amongst the Scots Irish, July 17, 2015, https://barryrmccain.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-second-sight-among-scots-irish.html, accessed November 26, 2018
  2. Scotclans website, Prophecy, Scottish Second Sight, David McNicoll, February 2, 2012, https://www.scotclans.com/prophecy-scottish-second-sight/, accessed November 26, 2018
  3. Cohen, Shari Ann, Doctoral thesis abstract, Scottish tradition of second sight and other psychic experiences in families, University of Edinburg Research Archive, 1996,  https://www.era.lib.ed.ac.uk/handle/1842/9674, accessed November 26, 2018
  4. Ibid.

James’ Tragedy

Suicide is a tragedy that leaves a deep and lasting scar. On an April day in 1864, James Hunter, 45 years old, my second great-granduncle, decided to throw himself in front of a train. All the sadness of this event is illustrated in James’ father’s registration of the death described as “accidentally killed on Monkland Railway by the engine.”1 The newspaper article is more direct, “Hunter threw himself in front of the engine.”2 Understandably, James’ father probably rewrote history to get through his pain of registering such a sad event. He also possibly wanted to avoid further pain for the family as a result of a suicide in the family.

In 1864, sudden deaths would have usually be referred to the Procurator Fiscal, known in other jurisdictions as the public prosecutor. There is no entry on the registration of death to indicate that the Procurator Fiscal held an inquiry into James’ death. They may have deemed it not necessary, as it was obviously a suicide. While committing suicide was considered a crime in 19th century England and Wales, this was not the case in Scotland. Citizens were free to take their own life, but it was assumed they would be answerable to God. In England and Wales, suicide was decriminalised only in 1961 with the passing of the Suicide Act. Prior to this, anyone who attempted suicide could be imprisoned and if they were successful and died, their families could be prosecuted. 3

James was born around 1819 and possibly in a colliery. James, like his father, was a coalminer. When he committed suicide he left behind his wife, Elizabeth Pettigrew, 4 and seven children.5

At the time of his death, James lived in Coatbridge, a village in North Lanarkshire in Scotland. Coatbridge is about 8 km north of Glasgow. James lived in Brewsterford, an area of Coatbridge that was close to the Calder Iron Works. It is therefore no surprise that James chose to end his life within walking distance of his home.6 The train of the Monkland Railways was at a level crossing at the Calder Iron Works when the locomotive engineer spotted James. Sadly, it was too late for the engineer was unable to stop the train in time to prevent the tragedy.7

Map of Calder Iron Works, 1859, Scotland’s Brick and Tile Manufacturing Industry

Of course, no one can know why James committed suicide or at least there is no official record of why. The newspaper article indicates that he had been “dull and melancholy for some time past.” 8 We can guess that he was clinically depressed. His family and loved ones would have noticed but, unlike today, would have had no way to help him overcome his depression.

All suicides are a tragedy. It would have been catastrophic for Elizabeth and her seven children. Added to the shame and stigma of suicide, Elizabeth would have lost the breadwinner of the family. The older children were on their own by then but the four youngest ones were still in school.

  1. Scotland’s People, Statutory Registers of Death, 1864, Deaths in the District of Old Monkland in the County of Lanark, 21 April 1864, James Hunter, accessed 23 October 2025.
  2. The Herald Glasgow Edition, Strathclyde, Scotland, 26 April 1864, page 3, accessed 23 October 2025.
  3. Wikipedia, Suicide Act 1961, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_Act_1961, accessed 28 May 2024.
  4. Scotland’s People, Old Parish Registers of Marriages, 1839, Airdrie or New Monkland, James Hunter and Elizabeth Pettigrew, accessed 7 November 2025.
  5. Ancestry, family trees, children not double checked.
  6. Map of Calder Iron Brickworks, Scotland’s Brick and Tile Manufacturing Industry, https://www.scottishbrickhistory.co.uk/calder-iron-brickworks-whifflet-coatbridge-north-lanarkshire/, accessed 1 December 2025.
  7. The Herald Glasgow Edition, Strathclyde, Scotland, 26 April 1864, page 3, accessed 23 October 2025.
  8. The Herald Glasgow Edition, Strathclyde, Scotland, 26 April 1864, page 3, accessed 23 October 2025.

The Cipher

When I say that my grandfather, Thomas McHugh, worked as a cipher, Bletchley Park, MI5, Russian spies immediately come to mind. He was neither a Russian spy nor did he work as a cipher during the war. His employer was the Bank of Montreal, and it was his first job when he came to Canada in 1912.

The decision to immigrate to Canada was not easy for Thomas. He was in his mid-30s and already had seven children, between the ages of one and fifteen. For over 40 years, the jute manufacturers of Dundee, Scotland, had been providing employment for his parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, wife, and for him. However, by the early 1900s, he was facing a precarious future for his children.

By that time, Dundee had suffered a serious decline in the textile industry and more significantly, the jute industry. Jute was imported from India; however, the mill owners realized that it would lower production costs to open mills in India to prepare the jute and import the finished product to Scotland. Once mills were established in India, the jute production in the mills in Dundee decreased substantially.1

So when Thomas arrived in Canada, a little ahead of his wife and his children, he was eager and prepared to do any job that he could. The Bank of Montreal had its headquarters in Montreal, Quebec. At the beginning of the 20th century, the bank had significant dealings with Great Britain and there were correspondence and banking instructions back and forth between Canada and Great Britain daily. These instructions were mainly sent by telegraph overnight.  Some of these instructions were confidential, and it was preferred that they remain so. Overnight instructions reduced the number of people who would have access to them. And the time difference between Montreal and the United Kingdom meant that the banks in London and Edinburgh were open for business while Montreal was still asleep.

Thomas with Pal in Verdun

Even in those days, the banks were concerned about security, privacy and confidentiality. The banking instructions and transactions that were transmitted by telegraph were encrypted. It was the job of the cipher clerk to decipher them so that the bank staff could then ensure that the instructions were carried out as required.

To be a cipher clerk, one had to be reliable, meticulous and honest, and maintain the confidentiality of the bank’s business above all else. To decipher the information, the clerk used a cipher handbook and worked overnight, making it a difficult job for a man with a family.

So while my grandfather, the cipher, did not work in espionage, I still think that his first job in Canada was rather interesting.2

  1. Wikipedia web site, The History of Dundee, online<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Dundee>, accessed February 19, 2017.
  2. McHugh, Edward. Personal knowledge. [Father of writer].

Gunner John Hunter, World War 1

When I discovered that my Great-Uncle, John Hunter died at the age of 20 in either France or Belgium in 1917 during World War I, I assumed that he had died in battle. He was a gunner, which mean that he either served the guns, handled ammunition, or drove the horses. My first thought was that this seemed like a particularly dangerous assignment.1 With further research, I discovered that it was almost inevitable that he would die.

John was assigned to the 87th Brigade of the Royal Field Artillery (RFA). He lived in Fife, Scotland and the RFA was actively recruiting there. In World War I, the minimum age was 19 to sign up, so John would only have seen a year of active fighting before his death. 2 He either enlisted voluntarily or was forced to as the Military Service Act was passed in 1916, requiring the conscription of unmarried and widowed men without any dependents.3

Courtesy War Museum, Recrutment Posters

The 87th Brigade was an infantry brigade formation of the British Army. By the time John would have joined the Brigade, it was serving on the Western Front.4 John would have likely participated in the Battle of the Somme and Passchendaele.

John was taken ill when he was in the theatre of war. He was sent to the Lord Derby War Hospital in Winwick, Borough of Warrington, Chesire, England. He was in a diabetic coma when he died on September 7, 1917, with my grandmother, just 16 years old at the time, at his side. Their mother had died in April 1917 and their father was also serving in World War I and was positioned in France at the time of his son’s death. My grandmother would have been summoned to his bedside and she would have had to make the journey from Lumphinnans, Scotland to Chesire, England by herself.5

Imagine the terror of being diagnosed with diabetes prior to 1921, the year insulin was discovered by a team of doctors, Charles Banting, Charles Best, and J.B. Collip and their supervisor, J.J.R. Macleod,  working at the University of Toronto.6 The symptoms would have included a terrible thirst, excessive urination, lethargy, and perhaps confusion. A urine analysis would have been done and a high glucose level would have confirmed diabetes but there was nothing to be done before the discovery of insulin except a strict dietary regime. We now know that diabetes can be triggered by trauma in someone with a genetic predisposition. There Is no doubt that the trauma of trench warfare would have had its toll on John.

When my grandson was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 16 months old, the doctors questioned whether type 1 diabetes was in the family. We could not think of any relative who had type 1 diabetes. We now know that we were wrong. My grandson will live a normal life with the help of a pump that provides insulin as he needs it. But John did not have a chance. He was living through traumatic circumstances, had a genetic predisposition, and life-saving insulin was not yet discovered. 

  1. Wikipedia, Gunner (rank), https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunner_(rank), accessed 17 June 2025
  2. War Museum, https://www.iwm.org.uk/history/voices-of-the-first-world-war-joining-up, accessed 17 June 2025
  3. War Museum, https://www.iwm.org.uk/learning/resources/first-world-war-recruitment-posters, accessed 18 June 2025.
  4. Wikipedia, 87th Brigade, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/87th_Brigade_(United_Kingdom)#:~:text=The%20brigade%20was%20assigned%20to,the%20rest%20of%20the%20war., accessed 17 June 2025.
  5. Death certificate, John Hynd Hunter, issued 22 April 2025, Grace Hunter, sister, was the informant.
  6. The Canadian Encyclopedia, The Discovery of Insulin, https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/the-discovery-of-insulin, accessed 18 june 2025

The Harvester Scheme and the Empire Settlement Act

Who would have thought that finding the immigration records of my grandparents would have led to me to learn about two British government initiatives designed to promote emigration to Canada in the 1920s?  I was browsing the Library and Archives Canada web site and found digitized records of Form 30 that recorded the entry of every immigrant between July 1921 and December 1924.1  I was thrilled to find the form that my grandfather, George Thomas Deakin, signed in August 1923, and the one that my grandmother, Grace Graham Hunter, signed in February 1924.

My grandfather’s form indicated that he came to Canada as part of the Harvester Scheme.  In 1923, Canada had a bumper wheat crop and North America could not provide the labour needed to harvest the crop.  Under the Harvester Scheme, the two major Canadian railway companies entered into an agreement with the British government to transport 12,000 workers out west where they would earn $4.00 per day plus board.  This was considered a successful scheme as 11,871 migrants came to Canada to work on the farms in Western Canada. The harvest was successfully completed and 80% of the harvesters stayed and were considered “successfully assimilated.”2

Source: The Farm Collector

Like the Harvester Scheme, The Empire Settlement Act was also an initiave to provide Canada with badly needed labour. It was passed by the British Parliament in 1922 and its purpose was to provide an incentive for migrants to settle in the colonies.  Canada badly needed farm labourers and domestic workers.  At that time, the Canadian government favoured immigrants from Great Britain as a means of ensuring the predominance of British values.  In the early 1920s, it was difficult for Canada to attract immigrants from Great Britain as Britain was enjoying a period of prosperity right after World War I.  Another reason was the prohibitive cost of transatlantic transportation.  Even passage in third class would have been expensive for a farm labourer or a domestic worker.3

My grandmother came to Canada to enter into domestic service as a cook and her destination in Montreal was the government hostel.  Hostels were located in major urban areas across Canada.  These hostels were partially funded by the provinces and immigrants from Great Britain were allowed free dormitory accommodation for 24 hours after their arrival.  Young ladies were looked after by the Superintendent of the hostel and referred to a church worker.  They were also referred to Employment Services of Canada who would find them employment.4

1 Library and Archives Canada:  http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca, accessed March 2013.

2 Foster, John Elgin, 1983, The Developing West:  Essays on Canadian History in Honor of Lewis H. Thomas, University of Alberta, accessed March 2013.

http://www.pier21.ca/research/immigration-history/empire-settlement-act-1922, accessed March 2013.

4 Crawford, Ruth, 1924, “Canada’s Program for Assimilation”, The Rotarian, May 1924, p. 16, accessed March 2013

Mary’s Tragedy

“Of late she was somewhat weak in the mind.”

This sad sentence concludes the obituary of Mary Boggie who died by drowning on September 6, 1884 when she was just thirty-four years old.1 Her death was a suicide and this one sentence tries to explain why. Of course, no one will ever know why she jumped off a cliff into the cold and inhospitable waters of the North Sea. What we do know is that it was a desperate and definitive act.

Mary Boggie was Henry Boggie’s sister. Henry, my great-grandfather, was taken to court by my great-grandmother, Annie Orrock, in a paternity suit. He never lived with Annie and, as far as I know, did not participate in bringing up my grandmother, Elspeth Orrock. Mary and Henry were the only children of George Boggie and Elspeth Milne. The Boggie family lived all their lives in Arbroath, Scotland. Arbroath is a coastal town located on the North Sea, about 26 km northeast of Dundee and 72 km southwest of Aberdeen.2 In the 19th century, Arbroath experienced a rapid growth in population with an influx of workers needed for the expansion of the jute and sailcloth industry.3 George was a member of the merchant navy and would have been absent from home most of the time. Both Mary and Henry lived at home, with their mother, all of their adult lives.

The registration of Mary’s death indicates that Henry was one of the “finders” of her body. The cause of death was “mental disturbance.”4 Who knows how long he and others were searching for her? She was found at the bottom of Whiting Ness, a cliff in Marketgate, Arbroath.

Part of the cliff face on Whiting Ness walk, James Herring, James Herring c10 Day Blog, Whiting Ness walk: The Needle’s E’e, The Deil’s Heid and Castle Gate, September 7, 2021

In 1884, sudden deaths in Scotland were referred to the Procurator Fiscal, known in other jurisdictions as the public prosecutor. The inquiry found that that the cause of Mary’s death was drowning and that she had committed suicide. The corrected entry notes that Mary had not been certified, meaning that she had never been certified as being mentally ill.5 The newspaper article implies that she was suffering from some mental affliction. And this is in accordance with the thinking at the time; that suicides were thought to be temporarily insane, thus being innocent of “self-murder.”6 Committing suicide was not considered a crime in Victorian and Edwardian Scotland. Citizens were free to take their own life, but it was assumed they would be answerable to God. This was not the case in England and Wales, where suicide was decriminalised only in 1961 with the passing of the Suicide Act. Prior to this, anyone who attempted suicide could be imprisoned and if they were successful and died, their families could be prosecuted. 7

No matter what the attitudes towards suicide at the time, Mary’s death was a tragedy. She could have been suffering from any number of mental or physical afflictions that would cause her to take her life. We can only imagine the anxiety and agony that Henry and Elspeth were feeling as people were desperately trying to find her. The trauma of finding her must have been almost more than Henry could bear. It would then be up to him to tell his mother. The suddenness and the violence of Mary’s death would have been a shock and difficult to understand. Henry and Elspeth were faced with an investigation and they would have had to deal with the press. Sadly, they may have had to deal with shame and the stigma of mental illness in the family.

  1. Obituary for Mary Boggie, Glasgow Daily Mail, 8 September 1884, newspapers.com, accessed 23 May 2024.
  2. Wikipedia, Arbroath, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arbroath, accessed 29 May 2024.
  3. Ibid.
  4. Scotland’s People, Registration of Deaths 1884, Mary Boggie, accessed 3 April 2024.
  5. Scotland’s People, Page 105, Register of Corrected Entries, Mary Boggie, signed by the Procurator Fiscal’s Office, 24 September 1884, accessed 3 April 2024.
  6. Shiels, Robert, The Investigation of Suicide in Victorian and Edwardian Scotland, Dundee Student Law Review, Vol. 5(1+2), No.4, https://sites.dundee.ac.uk/dundeestudentlawreview/wp-content/uploads/sites/102/2019/09/R-Shiels-No-4.pdf, accessed 27 May 2024.
  7. Wikipedia, Suicide Act 1961, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_Act_1961, accessed 28 May 2024.

Who is Henry Boggie?

Henry Boggie is my great-grandfather, but he was never really part of the family.

My grandmother, Elspeth Mill Boggie Orrock was born in 1875 in Arbroath in County Angus, Scotland. Her mother, Annie Linn Orrock, registered the birth and gave Elspeth her surname Orrock but she also gave Elspeth the name Boggie. The registration notes that Elspeth was illegitimate as her parents were not married.1

In 1881, when Elspeth was 6 years old, Annie Linn, still residing at 32 East Mill Wynd where she had given birth to Elspeth, instituted a civil paternity suit against Henry Boggie in the Sheriff Court.  On 11 September 1882, a decree was issued by the Sheriff Court, stating that the birth registration be corrected to include Henry Boggie as Elspeth’s father.2

Paternity cases were usually attempts to make the father pay child support and we can assume that this is probably why Annie Linn sued Henry for paternity.3 There is no evidence that Henry and Annie every lived together.

The censuses show that Henry lived with his mother until at least 1891. He worked as a mason and remained in Arbroath his entire life. He died fairly young, at 53. The registration of his birth says that he was single.4 It is unlikely that he fathered any other children.

The records indicate that Henry led a quiet life, living in the same city all his life. However, Henry did practice an unusual sport, pedestrianism. In the 19th century, he would have been called a ped. At the time, pedestrianism was popular in Scotland and elsewhere. The six-day, 450-mile race usually began on a Sunday at 1:00 a.m. It started after midnight on Sunday because public amusements were prohibited on Sundays. The athletes walked for six days in a row, in a circle and had to complete the 450 miles. They could run, walk, or crawl. They ate, drank, and napped in little tents at the side. 5

Bloomberg, When Walking was a Spectator Sport, 7 August 2015

The walking matches were a spectator sport, with music and refreshments. It was like a fair. Gambling was also part of the attraction. There were lots of possibilities to place bets, such as the first pedestrian to drop out or the first to achieve a set number of miles. At the time, champagne was considered a stimulant. Some of the trainers (yes, they had trainers) would encourage the participants to drink copious amounts of it.6

Henry seems to have participated in several pedestrian tournaments. He was described as one of the “crack” walkers who participated in the Dundee tournament when he joined the Aberdeen Walking Match in December 1879. It took place in Cooke’s Circus, an equestrian establishment so we can assume that the participants walked around the equestrian arena. Prize money totalled £40 (about £6,000 today) and the winner won the champion belt of Scotland.7

On March 8, 1880, Henry competed in the Perth Grand Pedestrian Tournament. The thirty-three participants hailed from England and Scotland. The format of this tournament was that the men would walk or run between eleven o’clock in the morning and stop at eleven o’clock in the evening. First prize was £25 (about £3,800 today). Jostling, hindering another participant, or using bad language would result in disqualification.  Reserved seats were two shillings, second seats were one shilling, and third seats were a sixpence. A musical band was in attendance. Gambling was prohibited.8

The newspaper articles that list Henry’s participation in the Dundee, Perth, and Aberdeen tournaments are just a glimpse into this interesting sport. Not only did the participants travel to compete in these tournaments, the six-day races would have been quite exciting and exhilarating. There is no indication whether or not Henry ever won prize money, but still, he was a “crack” competitor.

  1. Scotland’s People, National Records of Scotland, Statutory Registers of Birth, 1875, District of Arbroath, County of Forfar, Elspeth Mill Boggie Orrock, retrieved 12 January 2018.
  2. Register of Corrected Entries for the District of Arbroath in the County of Forfar, dated 11 September 1882, directing that the defendant, Henry Boggie, Mason, should appear on the registration of birth of Elspeth Mill Boggie Orrock, in possession of author.
  3. Traces. Uncovering the Past, Tracing the Fathers of Illegitimate Children in Scottish Court Records, 3 December 2020, https://tracesmagazine.com.au/2020/12/tracing-the-fathers-of-illegitimate-children-in-scottish-court-records/, accessed 22 January 2024.
  4. Scotland’s People, National Records of Scotland, Statutory Registers of Death, 1905, District of Arbroath, County of Forfar, Henry Boggie, retrieved 22 January 2024.
  5. BBC, The Strange 19th century sport that was cooler than football, Zaria Gorvett, 28 July 2021, https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20210723-the-strange-19th-century-sport-that-was-cooler-than-football, accessed 22 January 2024.
  6. NPR,  In The 1870s And ’80s, Being A Pedestrian Was Anything But, 3 April 2014, accessed 23 January 2024.
  7. Aberdeen Press and Journal, 29 December 1879, page 4, accessed through British Newspapers on Findmypast, 23 January 2024.
  8. Dundee Courrier and Angus, 8 March 1880, page 1, accessed through British Newspapers on Findmypast, 23 January 2024.

Lunatic Asylums in Scotland

In the 1871 census in the United Kingdom, categories of disability were added to the census questions. These categories included the deaf and dumb, blind, imbecile or idiot, and lunatic.1 Imbecile, idiot, and lunatic are pejorative terms today but in the 19th century, they were medical terms used to indicate mental health conditions. Idiots and imbeciles had learning disabilities. Lunacy was a term used broadly to denote anyone with a mental illness.2

James Kinnear Orrock, my 2X great-uncle, was committed to the Dundee Royal Lunatic Asylum on December 9, 1888. Superintendent James Rorie declared that he was a pauper and that he was delusional.  James’ mother, Mary Watson, my 2X great-grandmother, requested that he be committed.4 Not unlike today, the police were involved. A constable declared that he had been violent and incoherent. It is obvious from the notice of admissions that James was experiencing psychotic episodes.

Westgreen Asylum, Liff, Dundee, Scotland in 1897, Westgreen Asylum, Liff, Dundee, Scotland in 1897

James was just 30 when he was admitted to the asylum. Sadly, he remained there until his death in 1930 when he was 72.5 It is distressing that he lived in this institution more than half his life. While little was known about mental illness at the time, the asylum offered the patients safety and hope. Specialist registrar Amy Macaskill states “What is clear is that they wanted to offer a degree of care and protection and containment for people who were causing difficulty at home and were in some level of distress.”6 The asylums cared for people who were depressed, anxious, delusional, as well as those suffering from other conditions such as epilepsy, alcoholism, and syphilis.7

The Dundee Royal Lunatic Asylum had separate quarters for men and women. The pauper wards for men each had a day room, with a number of single rooms with windows overlooking the airing court. The windows provided the only ventilation. The rooms were not heated but there were open fire places in the corridors. There were weaver shops in a separate building where some patients made packing cloth. Male patients also did stone breaking and some worked on the grounds. They were paid with tobacco and beer. There was a billiard room and dancing parties for the patients, attended by both men and women. A chaplain provided services on Sundays.8

When James was admitted, he was certified a pauper lunatic. This certification gave him access to psychiatric care, but it does not necessarily mean that he was a pauper. His admission records indicate that he was a seaman and he could have been gainfully employed. The Board of Governors of the asylums assessed each patient’s finances. If any financial assistance was required, then the patient was declared a pauper. If the patient or their family was assessed as being able to entirely finance their own care, they were classified as private patients. Private patients benefitted from better food, were able to wear their own clothes, and could be discharged if the person paying for their care wanted their discharge. Unfortunately, while a technical and legal label, the term “pauper lunatic” carried a stigma and deterred people from seeking help.9

We have come a long way in our care for those suffering from mental illness since the 19th century. The Lunacy (Scotland) Act 1857 formed mental health law in Scotland from 1857 until 1913. Its purpose was to provide official oversight of mental health institutions and to ensure that they were adequately funded.10

  1. Scotland’s People, Census Records, 1871 Census, https://www.nrscotland.gov.uk/research/guides/census-records/1871-census#1871%20instructions, accessed 1 November 2023.
  2. Historic England, Disability History Glossary, https://historicengland.org.uk/research/inclusive-heritage/disability-history/about-the-project/glossary/, accessed 1 November 2023
  3. Notice of Admissions, Royal Dundee Lunatic Asylum, Notice of Admissions, James Orrock, retrieved 22 March 2023
  4. James Rorie went on to write the History of the Dundee Royal Lunatic Asylum
  5. Scotland’s People, 1891, 1901, 1911, 1921 censuses, John Orrock, accessed 20 November 2023.
  6. BC News, Archives reveal life in Edinburgh and Inverness asylums, 7 January 2013, https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-scotland-20938462, accessed 21 November 2023.
  7. National Records of Scotland, From the NRS Archives, Servicemen in Scotland’s Asylums, 1918, 10 January 2019, https://blog.nrscotland.gov.uk/2019/01/10/from-the-nrs-archives-servicemen-in-scotlands-asylums-august-1918/, accessed 22 November 2023.
  8. Scottish Indexes, Institution Information – Dundee Royal Infirmary, https://www.scottishindexes.com/institutions/19.aspx, accessed 22 November 2023.
  9. Royal College of Psychiatrists, Pauper lunatics were not paupers, 23 February 2022, https://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/news-and-features/blogs/detail/history-archives-and-library-blog/2022/02/23/pauper-lunatics, accessed 21 November 2023.
  10. Wikipedia, Lunacy (Scotland) Act 1857, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lunacy_(Scotland)_Act_1857, accessed 22 November 2023.

The Trip of a Lifetime

My father, Edward McHugh, didn’t really talk about his family’s trip of a lifetime. After all, Dad wasn’t even born yet. But it must have been discussed by everyone when he was a boy. In 1911, the first member of the family, Mary Ann McHugh, moved from Dundee, Scotland to Montreal.

At the time, booking agents in the United Kingdom advertised and recruited potential immigrants to Canada. There was an acute need of domestic help and agricultural workers. Between 1890 and 1920, Canada experienced its third wave of immigration and its peak was between 1911 and 1913, just before World War I.1 The following type of advertisement was common in the newspapers.2

Booking agent advertisement

Maybe one of these advertisements gave the McHugh family the idea to emigrate to Canada. Or maybe Mary was ready for an adventure. She was just 21 when she disembarked from the SS Grampian that had left Glasgow on June 24, 1911 and arrived in Quebec City on July 9, 1911.  She would have had a medical exam when she arrived to ensure that she was in good health and did not have an infectious disease. Conditions for immigration to the colonies were well known in the United Kingdom. The February 11, 1911 edition of the Hamilton Observer, in its article, Canadian Notes, People Prohibited, details the reason some potential immigrants could expect to be refused by Canada. The article explains the booking agent’s liability for the immigrants that arrived in Canada for a period of three years following their arrival:

“The following classes of people are prohibited from landing … feeble minded, idiotic, insane, or who have been insane within five years, afflicted with any loathsome, contagious, or infectious disease; anyone who is a pauper, who is destitute, who is a professional beggar or vagrant.”3

All of the members of the McHugh family worked in the jute mills in Dundee. The 1911 census indicates Mary was a jute weaver, which probably meant that she operated a jute weaving machine.4 She lived with her mother, Sarah Jane McLaughlin, and her brothers, Edward and Francis. They lived at 1 Tait Lane, Dundee. Her other brother, Thomas, my grandfather, lived with his wife and seven children at 9 Tait Lane.

The picture below shows the jute weaving machine.5

Mary must have been satisfied with her new life in Montreal, Quebec. Within a year, her mother and her two brothers, along with my grandfather, had followed her to Canada. Six months later, my grandmother, Elsie Orrock, and her seven children joined her husband, Thomas, in Montreal.

The McHughs lived close together in Dundee and they also lived close together in Verdun, Quebec. While I will never know for sure why they decided to emigrate, I can guess that they wanted a life that was not as hard as the one working in the jute mills. There are a few clues that this was not a spur of a moment decision but a planned family decision.

Mary left first and, if it did not suit her to live in Canada, she would have been able to easily return to Dundee. Her mother and brothers were still there. By the time her mother emigrated, along with her three sons, they arrived with $150 CAD, about $4,750 in today’s dollars. Browsing through the passenger lists, I can see that they had a lot more money than many of their fellow passengers. 6 They were not a rich family, so this amount of money would have taken some time to save up.

Coincidentally my grandfather joined the Freemasons in 1910 and achieved a Master Mason diploma and a Mark Mason diploma.7 By that time, he already had six children. He worked long hours in the jute mill, including Saturdays. Why would he join the masons when he was already a very busy man providing for his family, plus taking care of his widowed mother, and his siblings who still lived at home? There is no evidence that he ever joined the masons when he arrived in Canada. I believe that it is possible that he joined the masons to in case he needed the contacts to find employment. As he quickly found work, his busy family life prevented him from pursuing his membership in the masons.

Only one of my grandfather’s siblings stayed in Scotland, Sarah Jane McHugh. She was not living with the other McHughs at the time of the 1911 census. But she remained close to the family. Surprisingly, she travelled to Montreal to be a witness at her brother’s wedding at the Notre Dame Basilica in Montreal on May 8, 1913.8 That would have been quite a trip for Sarah Jane to make.

  1. Wikipedia, Immigration to Canada, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immigration_to_Canada, accessed 27 September 2023.
  2. Irvine Herald and Ayrshire Advertiser (Irvine, Strathclyde, Scotland) · 13 Oct 1911, accessed Newspapers.com, downloaded 24 August 2023.
  3. The Hamilton Advertiser (Hamilton, Strathclyde, Scotland) · 11 Feb 1911, accessed Newspapers.com, downloaded 24 August 2023.
  4. Scotland’s People, National Records of Scotland, 1911 Census, Sarah Jane McHugh, downloaded 23 June 2019.
  5. V&A Dundee Design Museum, Women’s Day tweet, 6 March 2020.
  6. Passengers lists for S.S. Grampian arriving in Port of Quebec, May 21, 1912, Library and Archives Canada, https://www.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/discover/immigration/immigration-records/passenger-lists/passenger-lists-1865-1922/Pages/image.aspx?Image=e003578022&URLjpg=http%3a%2f%2fcentral.bac-lac.gc.ca%2f.item%2f%3fid%3de003578022%26op%3dimg%26app%3dpassengerlist&Ecopy=e003578022, accessed February 3, 2022.
  7. Thomas McHugh, registration of the Grand Lodge of Scotland, dated 25 August 1910.
  8. Registration of marriage of Francis McHugh and Helen Smith, 8 May 1913, downloaded 6 January 2022.