Aboyne

Situated midway between Ballater and Banchory on the north bank of the River Dee, the village of Aboyne is large by west Aberdeenshire standards, boasting a population of about 3000. As a settlement founded in 1671, it was a bit of a latecomer compared to other villages in the region, but establishment of a bridge replacing a river ford, combined with a station stop for the Royal Deeside line, encouraged its growth into a small and picturesque inland resort town. Technically lying just south of the Howe of Cromar, it functions as a gateway of sorts to the large oval valley.

But the name of the village may reveal a much older human presence near the generous S-shaped bend in the Dee that defines its southern boundary. In Gaelic, the name Abèidh (pronounced ah-bayn as distinct from the Anglicized ah-boyn) derives out of the place-name Oboyne, which can be seen in the record dating as far back as 1260. The ford replaced by the river may be the origin of that name, with the Gàidhlig words abh, bo, and fionn combining to form “(the place by) the fair-haired cow river,” suggesting a place where livestock drovers might safely guide cattle across the water to market. The older Oboyne may have centered slightly north and to the east of the newer village, based on the location of important social structures such as churches.

The Kirkton

One such structure is found near the Loch of Aboyne and adjacent to the Aboyne Golf Club. The Kirkton of Aboyne has a long history as a site for worship, with a kirk dedicated to Saint Adamnan being established in 1242. This medieval building is a memory in the landscape, with only a turf-covered foundation and a 19th century vault enclosure to attest its presence. A larger eccentrically-shaped enclosure surrounds the ancient ruin and the adjacent cemetery yard. In that yard, we find a large number of memorials belonging to the Cromar family. Among these is a stone erected by George Cromar, father of John Cromar (1823-1870), whose untimely end was chronicled in the post John Cromar and Ann George: rebels who broke free. It is a monument that tells a tale of tragedy and mystery.

Disruption

We know from our study of the lives of John and Ann that the second half of the 19th century was a time of economic depression in Scotland and elsewhere. A century earlier, the rise and fall of Jacobitism distinguished a politically chaotic era. These events framed the Scottish Agricultural Revolution, so-named by later historians to describe the technological, economic, and social changes that transformed Scottish farming practice from an incoherent, archaic patchwork into one of the most modern and productive in Europe, though not without personal cost to small crofters like the Cromars.

The post-Jacobite generations, typified by George Cromar (1792-1871) and his wife Ann Meston (1802-1883), may have been geographically stable — the borders and clustered settlements of old Scottish ferm-touns persist even to this day — but methods by which they practiced farming and trade were not. Though we style “disruption” as a 21st century trope, for better and worse, this generation in Scotland lived through an era defined just as intensely by the phenomenon of disruption.

George Cromar (1792-1871)

George Cromar was born in Lumphanan, Aberdeenshire on 20 June 1792, but unlike many of his sons, he resided there his entire life. The birth record attests his father was a John Cromar, but establishing exactly which John Cromar will prove to be a Sherlockian task in a future post; the record turns up no less than two dozen persons named “John Cromar” that are close enough by date and location to be eligible candidates for this paternity.

Though his parentage requires further investigation, we are fortunate that the record is solid with respect to his marriage, residence, occupation, and long life with his wife.

Ann Meston (1802-1883)

Ann Meston’s lineage is a bit clearer than George’s at this writing. Born in 1802, she was christened on 7 April in Kincardine O’Neil. Her father was David Meston (1774-aft. 1822), sometimes spelled Maston in the record. The Mestons originated in Birslazie, which appears to be a no longer extant settlement in Cluny, Aberdeenshire, just north of Midmar to the east of the Howe of Cromar. David married Ann Milne, a surname familiar to the orbit of the Cromars. Ann Milne was born in 1775 and seems to be local to the area of Kincardine O’Neil, since it was Scottish custom for the bride’s parish kirk to host the wedding; in this case, based on the date 20 July 1797, that kirk may have been the Auld Kirk, now in ruins to the south of the old Turnpike Road, now known as North Deeside Road.

The Mestons later lived in Lumphanan, and all their children, like Ann, were christened in Kinker, as the village was nicknamed. Ann’s siblings include Robert, Alexander, and Margaret preceding her; and Barbra, Elspet, Elisabeth, David, Archibald, Charles, and Catherine following. These births ranged from 1797, the same year David and Ann were wed, to 1822. Further investigation regarding the family’s other significant dates and places may be required, as the immediate record is a bit mute on these facts. However, it is fortunately well-detailed for Ann.

An auspicious beginning

George Cromar and Ann Meston were wed in Lumphanan during the holiday season on 29 December 1822. People are often surprised to learn that for four centuries in Scotland Christmas was actually illegal, viewed by Reformation-minded leaders of the Church of Scotland as insidious Popery. The big holiday was instead Hogmanay, which is still gregariously celebrated in Scotland as the last day of the old year. Steeped as it in suspicion of papal influence and laced with a persistent vein of paganism adjacent to the winter solstice, the season of Hogmanay is a time of revelry marking new beginnings, and could have been chosen by the couple as an auspicious omen for wedded bliss.

Based on geography, it is likely the wedding ceremony was hosted at the kirk of Saint Finan, located by the Lumphanan Burn midway on the road between Milton and Lumphanan village, quite nearby to the Peel of Lumphanan which we learned about in earlier posts here and here. So close to the holiday, we can imagine a festive ceremony and celebration. Let’s be clear: Scots know how to have a good time, if you’ve ever seen the revelry of Hogmanay!

Milton of Auchlossan

Although George was Ann’s senior by a decade, the couple had a long life together residing at Milton of Auchlossan, a residence of import to generations of Cromars, and which we explored in depth earlier. Because their marriage extended well into the period when Scotland began taking a census, adding to this the numerous births in a large family so typical of agrarian Scots, the record of their time together is quite clear, even if George’s origins are less so.

Nine months past the very day of George and Ann’s wedding, you may remember from earlier reading the arrival of John Cromar, father of Theodore James Cromar, on 27 September 1823. Son George followed on 27 April 1825, as did David on 6 April 1827, James on 29 March 1829, Peter on 29 March 1831, Archibald on 20 February 1833, Andrew on 27 March 1835, Charles on 5 December 1836, and Alexander on 29 May 1839. At a pace of a son more or less every other year, the family seemed capable of producing only males.

But we know from the memorial erected by George Cromar in the Kirkton of Aboyne that all was not as auspicious as the holiday wedding portended.

Inscriptions of sorrow

Scotland’s health record in the middle of the 19th century left much to be desired, even by the dicey standards of the day in the British Iscles generally. Cholera, typhus, and smallpox led to terrible outbreaks that decimated the population, even in rural areas where people could spread out and quarantine.

The age group most vulnerable to death by illness was, sadly, the very young. A particularly striking feature of the George Cromar stone is the memorialization of David, Archibald, and Alexander, who “died in infancy” according to the inscription. We know David and Archibald are absent from the 1841 census, while Alexander is recorded at the age of 2. So the stone was certainly erected sometime after 1841.

Burying the young

Further comparison of the record of children in the family reveals the birth of William on 3 July 1841, right after the census typically conducted in April, son Francis on 4 April 1844, and after 11 sons in a row, lone daughter Mary Ann on 5 October 1846 — one dozen children over the span of just under two dozen years. Before the next census in 1851 we see Peter succumb on 17 July 1848, “aged 17 years,” and before the 1861 census, Mary Ann on 11 July 1856, “aged 9 years.” Such inscriptions by parents burying their children are a far-too-common sight on contemporaneous memorials in Scotland. Out of George and Ann’s 12 children, 5 are memorialized on the stone.

Perhaps we can deduce the stone was erected sometime after 1850, unless the engraving of Peter’s and Mary Ann’s deaths was added after the fact. It is, after all, interesting to note the addition of Elsie Mary Cromar Ross in 1995, in what is clearly a fresher engraving, adding memorials to a family plot being a not-uncommon feature of many gravestones.

But the stone doesn’t reveal the fate of several other children, though we already know of the tragic end to befall John Cromar. We have to rely on other records for understanding their fate. This may also help us pinpoint the date of the stone’s erection.

Census of enigmas

1841

The 1841 Census lists George Cromar as head of household with the occupation of farmer, Ann Meston going by the surname Cromar as his wife, and children starting with George, age 15; James, 12; Peter, 10; Andrew, 6; Charles, 3; and Alexander, 2. It also lists an Ann Michie as a 35 year old “AG LAB” which one might surmise to be an agricultural laborer under the employ of the family; perhaps she is a relative needing further study. What can we conclude about children who are missing?

John Cromar, born in 1823 and now 18, is not present, but is accounted for in one of several possibilities near Aberdeen. We don’t have reason to doubt the inscribed assertion that David and Archibald, also absent in the census, had died while in infancy. Depending on the definition of “infancy” we can speculate that David had died as early as 1827 or as late as 1830, while Archibald may have died as early as 1833 or as late as 1836. In either case, while the record demonstrates their demise before 1841, their confirmed dates will remain a mystery lost to time.

1851

By the 1851 Census, three other children had been born, and others disappear from residence at Milton of Auchlossan. An odd error in this record changes the last name of the family to Croman but we can confirm by the pattern of names, ages, and place, along with a correlation of birth records, that the twisting of an r into an n is an easy mistake to apply to Cromar. Of those present, we find mother Ann, age 48 as wife of father George, age 58. We see George here having expanded his trade to include “Mill and Square Wright” and note he employs one other man on his 20 acre farm.

We could guess that’s son George, 24, but we see his occupation as “Trencher and Ditcher,” so he may still be living at home and working elsewhere. Instead, it turns out to be Andrew, 15, who the record notes is employed on the farm. Younger children include William, age 9; Francis, 6; and daughter Mary Ann, 4. Another individual is recorded as a young “House Servant” named Hellen Farquhar. Unaccounted for are James, Peter, and Charles.

These are not difficult mysteries to untangle. James is accounted for through military records, and has an adventurous life globe-hopping for nearly 8 years in Corfu, the East Indies, Crimea, and Malta. Peter we recall had been listed on the memorial as passing in 1848, one of only two confirmed death dates inscribed. Charles becomes a live-in “Farm Servant” with the Strachan family at Auchenhove (misspelled as Auchenhore in the record), less than a mile south and east of Auchlossen.

1861

Getting on in years at 58 and 68 respectively, Ann and George are operating an Auchlossen farm that is now 27 acres. Sons remaining on the farm are William, 19, listed as a ploughman, and Francis, 16, with no occupation specified but no doubt assisting with farm labor at this age. From the previous census, George, Andrew, and Mary Ann are unaccounted for. From the stone inscription, we already know that tragedy has struck again with the death of Mary Ann at age 9 in 1856, but there is some mystery as to the precise date. According to the inscription, the date of death is 11 July, but according to records, it is 21 August. This needs further clarification but may indicate the time between death and burial — though we usually only see a delay of this sort in winter months.

Merchant of Fraserburgh

Son George, meanwhile, can be traced on his own. Married to Margaret Low on 14 August 1858 in Wester Belty, Kincardine O’Neil, one record has him trying his hand in 1859 as a merchant in Fraserburgh, sixty miles away on the north coast of Aberdeenshire. The 1861 census confirms his residence at Frithside Street. The birth record for this couple’s children can place them there as late as February 1867, but we see a return to Lumphanan sometime before June 1869. This move may have been inspired by an opportunity to assume the family business of farming as father George may have retired at age 76. Doing so may have allowed his parents to keep their residence at Milton of Auchlossan, bearing in mind that this was a crofting family who did not own land.

Seaman of Peterhead

Andrew, on the other hand, is bound for far-flung travels. He is found in the 1861 census as a boarder in the house of a Jane Davidson on Longate Street in Peterhead, a port town at the north-east tip of Aberdeenshire. He is listed as a 26 year old “Seaman (MS),” a designation which may have meant master seaman or merchant seaman. By 1863, military records show him as a private in the storied Seaforth Highlanders, 72nd Regiment. Records indicate service in the East Indies around 1865, with more service recorded later in the 1870s.

Mary Ann

There are additional entries in the 1861 census. Another Mary Ann appears, George and Ann’s infant granddaughter born in 1859, about 3 years after daughter Mary Ann’s death, thus perhaps named in honor of her young deceased aunt by her parents, George Cromar and Margaret Low. It seems something of an oddity that the infant would not be present with her parents in Fraserburgh, even more so when we see their other children — Elizabeth, Isabella, Margaret, George, and James — clearly present with the family. We can only surmise the worst: this poor Mary Ann succumbed to the same sad fate the befell her namesake, but at an even younger age.

This explanation still doesn’t account for Mary Ann’s apparent birth in Lumphanan based on birth records, somewhat in contradiction with George and Margaret’s known locations. It’s another mystery, possibly for another post, but we can conclude our perusal of the census entry noting two 18 year old employees: Catherine Marr, a domestic servant, and Mary Fraser, a herd.

Cross-referencing the stone inscription with information gleaned from the census, we can estimate the erection of father George’s memorial stone possibly after Mary Ann’s death 1856. but before the next tragic deaths unrecorded on the stone.

Yet more tragedy…

George survives long enough to be recorded by the 1871 census, but probably just barely. Census time was usually around April, and we note George’s passing on 11 April 1871 at the age of 78. The retired farmer and his wife Ann were not, however, spared from enduring the further heartbreak of seeing more children pass on before them.

Canadian misfortune

1870 was a dark year for the family. They had seen son Francis emigrate to New York City in 1866, and from there to Gray (a misspelling of Grey), Ontario, Canada, only to fall victim to seven months of phthisis (an archaic term for tuberculosis) leading to his death on 5 February 1870 at the too-young age of 25. And of course we know that Ann George and Theodore Cromar were left under the care of son George when oldest brother John passed away on 10 November 1870 — a second Cromar victim of tuberculosis in the span of 9 months. We thought of John’s illness in our prior post as a situation exclusively related to the occupational hazards of stone polishing; though that certainly did not help matters, it now appears that a far wider distribution of this infectious disease was afflicting the family.

Death of Andrew

Thus when the elder George dies, he is survived only by wife Ann and sons George, James, and Andrew. The old couple had buried 9 children, but for Ann, who passes away on 12 June 1883 at the age of 81, a long life of sorrows does not end with the death of her husband. She endures the death of one more son: Andrew, by this time a Corporal in the 72nd Regiment, has been deployed as far away as India and Pakistan, and on 16 January 1874, military health records indicate a bout of — you guessed it — phthisis.

We don’t know if he became the third Cromar son to succumb to tuberculosis, but some time between 1 July 1874 and 1876, the record loses track of Andrew, and he does not show up on the census record of 1881. He may or may not have survived to participate in the Second Anglo-Afghan War from 1878 to 1880, but whether he perished there in action or earlier due to illness, Ann’s passing leaves only sons George and James to mourn her loss.

… And the biggest mystery of all

Childhood illness and death were common enough, but the Cromars saw an exceptional amount of loss in their lives, witnessed by the stone erected at Kirkton of Aboyne and the record beyond. But we’ve left the most tantalizing mystery of George Cromar’s memorial for our final consideration.

It seems that before or during the period where sons were dying in infancy, George was also contending with the loss of other members of his family. The inscription leads with this most enigmatic of epitaphs:

Erected by

GEORGE CROMAR

FARMER, MILLTOWN OF AUCHLOSSAN, LUMPHANAN,

IN MEMORY OF

HIS FATHER, MOTHER, AND SISTER,
…

No names. No dates. And no places. None of the ordinarily expected information one assumes for an engraving.

Whither John?

Now, while we mentioned previously that we DO know his father’s name is John, we know little else except that there are dozens of John Cromars in Scotland at this time. The unnamed mother and sister are just two tiny needles in a haystack of Johns. This may mean we’ve reached that bane of genealogists: a dead end.

Or perhaps there is something else we can deduce beyond the ambiguities present in the birth and census records. Is such a clue perhaps lying among the stones adjacent to this testament of tragedy, an inscription or a date that can indirectly but solidly confirm the precise identity of THE John we will know as George’s father? To find out, we’ll have to take a detour off the main road tracing Theodore’s father John to the enigmatic Peter Cromar 1690-1780. We’ll have to explore the patterns and inferences we can discover in the Kirkton of Aboyne burial ground. What will we find when we enter?