Hebridean Case Studies

Dawn MacAulay Broughton’s story

People often say ‘how did you get started researching your family tree?’ I tell them about my Aunt Isabel who kept telling me how much fun genealogical research was and that I really should ‘do’ the MacAulay family. Finally, I decided maybe I should try. My dad knew very little about his family history (his parents had died long before I was born), but his oldest brother, Uncle Ernie knew about Malcolm MacAulay and his wife and 6 children who had emigrated to the Eastern Townships of Quebec from Uig, Isle of Lewis, in 1851. After contacting cousins all around North America, I felt I wanted to see if I could find out who Malcolm’s parents were on the Isle of Lewis. I wrote both to the Scots Ancestry Research Society who do research for a fee and The Scottish Genealogy Society. I received a nice letter from the Research Society saying that I would need specific details (which I certainly didn’t have at that time) and that it would probably be 12 months before they could help me. A few days later, I had a lovely letter from Donald Whyte of the Scottish Genealogy Society suggesting I write Bill Lawson of Paisley as he was doing research on the Outer Isles. Needless to say, I wrote Bill immediately and was overjoyed to get a speedy reply including the names of the parents of Malcolm and his wife, Annie Buchanan, their brothers and sisters and their families. What a red-letter day that was!

Somewhere along the way, my niece wrote that she thought we might be related to the ‘Sunlife’ MacAulays and suggested that I write Thomas MacAulay in Hudson, Quebec. Tom answered my letter and included his family tree which showed he was descended from Thomas Babington MacAulay, the noted writer, historian and statesman. Try as I would I couldn’t find a way to fit my family into that illustrious tree. But Tom did say that he had gotten this information from Donald Macdonald of Lachine, to whom I subsequently wrote.

Although Donald didn’t have much specific information, he sent me several clippings from the Stornoway newspaper. Donald had been born and brought up in Miavaig, which is in Uig Parish. He sent me a photo of the MacAulay cemetery near Carnish - what a beautiful setting. When he heard we were going to Scotland to see the Isle of Lewis, he insisted that we stay with his brother John (Ian) and sister, Mamie, and sister-in-law Catrina. How wonderful to have someone who knows the area. Donald’s brother was the postmaster and his father before him was as well. Who else knows the people so well!

Finally, in May 1981, we were on our way to Scotland. After a leisurely trip north from London, we finally alighted at Bill Lawson’s door in Paisley. He had a huge den lined with bookshelves. There was nearly every book ever written on the Islands, many cross-referenced notebooks of the census, tax rolls and other genealogical material about the Islands. There was a wall covered by survey maps. Bill had said earlier "where are you going to spend the night?" and I had said "Oh, we’ll find a bed and breakfast somewhere nearby." Bill offered "you’re welcome to that big couch, - it opens out". I quickly accepted the offer, I wanted maximum exposure to all his expertise. Needless to say we talked non-stop while digging through his many books and records.

Two days later, we headed by train and bus to Ullapool. Bill had packed us a lovely lunch so we felt like real U.K. travelers,- it seemed like everyone had their own home-packed lunch box and thermos on the train. At Stirling, we changed to a bus. Scottish bus drivers are interesting. The only scheduled stop on this trip was at Dingwall and the driver said "five minutes for ladies and gents, after that you’ll have to cross your legs!" When we got to Strathpepper we stopped short of where two Edmonton ladies wanted to get out and they pointed at the lodge up the hill. The driver said, "Ah, it’s a grand day for a walk" and the ladies got off.

At Ullapool, we bought our return ferry tickets and tried to make a reservation for berths on the trip back. Back then it was possible to get on the ferry in the evening, sleep overnight, and the ferry leaves at 6a.m. next morning while you doze on. Booking ahead is still advisable but a lot easier than it was twenty years ago!

We stayed at a bed and breakfast in Five Penny on the north point of the Island. What a bleak countryside - not a tree anywhere in sight, - it’s just peat on top of rock. The next day was Sunday, and talk about a day of rest. I wasn’t even allowed to use the telephone. But we were in luck, the one church service in eight per month that is in English (the others are in Gaelic) was at 6 p.m. Out came the landlady’s hats so I could choose a suitable one for the occasion. As we entered the church, the MacRitchies were pointed out to me and I was able to speak to them briefly as we left after the long service, These people live on the same croft as had their father, grandfather, great grandfather and great great grandfather (who was also my great great grandfather) when he had settled there about 1840 after being cleared from the Uig area. We couldn’t visit on Sunday, of course, but we did have such a good time with them the next day when we were served scones cooked over the peat fire and with all their friends and relatives dropping to meet the Canadian cousins. Rachel MacRitchie gave me a lovely Harris wool sweater that she had knitted. We went across the street to watch one cousin weaving Harris Tweed on the foot-operated loom.

Next day we went on to Uig and more Scottish hospitality in the village of Miavaig, which consisted of 4 houses¸2 enormous churches and a post office. How my ancestors must of hating leaving those lovely sandy beaches among the hills! We hiked over the hills and along the beaches and drove over single track roads, stopping when necessary to open one of the gates across the road which were there to keep the sheep in or out. I chatted at length with the lady next door who was knowledgeable about the Uig MacAulays. It is generally thought that they are all related way back. Armed with our canes to whack down the nettles which were shoulder high, we visited the MacAulay cemetery. There certainly were several MacAulay tombstones but Ian Macdonald explained that most burials were marked with only an ordinary stone, so one could only guess now what stone marked whose grave.

Life is leisurely in that part of the world. The postman delivers the mail with his little van, - beeps the horn and the person of the house comes to the curb and chats for a few minutes while receiving the mail. If no one comes, the postman then goes up to the door and hands the mail in. There are no mailboxes or such efficiency measures.

Everyone on Lewis speaks Gaelic. This reminded me of my childhood when I visited my maternal grandmother and the old folks visited in Gaelic so there was no worry about children hearing anything they shouldn’t. Everyone has a Gaelic nickname as Mac surnames abound and names such as John, Donald, Norman, Malcolm and Angus appear in every family.

Heading back, we got to Stornoway about 4:30 p.m. - just time for my husband to buy a Harris Tweed jacket and a few souvenirs before the stores closed. I wish I had bought an interesting set of Lewis chess pieces which I saw later in a store window. The Creel lady (peat basket on her back) is the Queen, the peat cutter is the King, sheep are the pawns, croft houses are the castles, etc. But the ferry left at 5 a.m. next morning, so no more chances to buy souvenirs.

We returned to Lewis in 1988, (this time we flew from Glasgow to Stornoway) staying on this trip with Bill & Chris Lawson in Harris and visiting with Mamie & Katrina in Maivaig. I know several of my MacAulay cousins have visited Lewis, after hearing of the lovely time we had had.