A surprise revision

It has been nearly a month since the post where I promised to continue my exploration of the wives of the Cromar men, moving forward in time up my direct patrilineal line. The next ancestor promised was to be Ann Cromar, wife of John Cromar, who had been briefly and abstractly discussed in All the Johns and Anns: the case for the parents of George Cromar 1792-1871. The post was nearly complete about two weeks ago, when I received a surprise pre-holiday gift from my distant cousin Paul Smillie in Scotland: a master file containing the genealogy research of Ron Cromar.

If you’ve read just about any other post in this journal, you’ve probably run across a reference to the elusive Ron and his notes. I spent the last couple of weeks reverently combing through his documentation, converting the file from an image-based PDF to a readable character-based text, and comparing Ron’s hypotheses to my own and to others. Among these, I included Paul’s correspondence-based observations about various Johns and Kevin Cromar’s theories about the post-Jacobite Roberts. I synthesized these various hypotheses to arrive at a document that uses Ron’s notes as a backbone. The story of that effort merits its own post soon enough, but I will say Paul’s timing could not have been better, as it saved me from barking up a forest of wrong trees.

A major mis-step

Actually, the majority of the work I’ve done seems to be a trustworthy effort, aligning far better than I expected with that of my fellow Cromar genealogists — and I’m proud my work is expanding and clarifying the database begun by others. However, one gigantically wrong tree turned out to be the subject of this now-massively-revised post: Ann Cromar.

This Ann, it turns out, is not the Ann I identified through careful, yet flawed, deductive reasoning in All the Johns and Anns — and her husband John is the wrong one to boot! Such a major mis-step could have stopped my project right in its tracks, but it came as a great relief to discover that such a potentially fatal error has not jeopardized the integrity of the line back to Peter 1690. So with Ann as the fulcrum, let’s move a mountain or two of my spurious theorizing out of the way and correct the record — or at least build a more reasonable hypothesis!

Spoiler alert (though after all, this journal is about the journey, not the destination): Ann turns out to be a heretofore unknown Cromar born in 1762 in Lumphanan, while her John is the one we discovered born 1760 in Aboyne.

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Overlapping generations

It’s difficult for humans with limited life-spans to comprehend how it would actually feel for centuries to pass (though a trip to the DMV comes to mind…). As of this writing, it’s been 331 years since Peter Cromar, ten generations separated from my kids, was born in Aberdeenshire or possibly Glencoe. But we do manage to live lives long enough to overlap those of our great-grandparents, and it’s theoretically possible, though rare, for a centenarian to meet a great-great-great-grandchild. The world record is seven generations co-existing. Those overlapping lives allow us to skip the queue and make the past more tangible.

In my direct patrilineal line, if we connect overlapping lives, we see that Peter, dying in 1770, would have known his grandson John, husband of Ann, who we now know is born in 1760. We don’t know if Ann met her grandchildren, but her son George lived to know about his grandson Theodore, who was of course the same generation as his wife Christiana, my great-grandmother, who was still alive when I was born. Though I’m nine generations away from Peter, I’m separated from him by four life-spans, and only three away from Ann in the immediate aftermath of the Jacobite defeat. Tempus fugit indeed!

Children of Ann and John

It is unknown by record when either John or Ann died, but we do have a record of their children. As we know, the enigmatic stone erected by George Cromar 1792-1871 doesn’t name his parents, but we’ve manage to deduce the link. We’ve seen how upheavals in social order are reflected in the spotty record-keeping of this era, but Ron Cromar lists the following as a complete list of Ann’s children as follows:

1. ISABEL CROMAR, b. 19 Jun 1790, Lumphanan, Aberdeenshire, Scotland. 
2. GEORGE CROMAR, b. 20 Jun 1792, Marywell, Lumphanan, Aberdeenshire, Scotland. 
3. HELLEN CROMAR, b. 1807; d. 1882. 
4. ELIZABETH or BETTY CROMAR, b. Mill of Wester Coull, Tarland, Aberdeenshire, Scotland. 
5. ELSPET CROMAR 
6. MARGARET CROMAR

Later in his notes, Ron indicates a marriage date for Margaret of 1838, but can we can really hypothesize a birth for her around 1818 or earlier? Assuming Ron is correct about Ann Cromar’s 1762 arrival on planet Earth, she would have given birth to Margaret at the ripe grandmotherly age of 56! Perhaps Margaret marries late, or perhaps she’s incorrectly identified with this family. Either way, something’s fishy.

Testing Ron’s theory

Before we go further, I have to mention that I approach the work of Ron Cromar with deep reverence and appreciation. His work, as we’ll discuss in our next post, has rapidly become the foundation upon which all my future investigations rest. It’s massive, and clearly the culmination of a lifetime of sleuthing. I don’t critique it lightly.

What I’ve learned in my brief time as an amateur genealogist is that any database is a hypothesis, and must be approached with scientific methodology and healthy skepticism. It is difficult to avoid confirmation bias, and emotional investment can make it difficult to cast away a favorite theory which becomes suspect in light of new information. Such action should not be read as a lack of respect for the work that came before. In fact, I’m certain that Ron, who took the hypothetical model seriously enough to carefully hedge when he discussed his own work in genealogy chatrooms, would appreciate it.

So what does the record show?

At both Family Search and ScotlandsPeople, we have evidence of John and Ann’s marriage on 17 Sep 1789 in Lumphanan, and a baptism record for Isabel in 1790 and George in 1792. There is no direct connection to a Hellen, Elizabeth, Elspet, or Margaret. There also exists a long and unusual 15-year childless stretch between George 1792 and Hellen 1807. Additionally, a funny hiccup exists in the listing of an Elizabeth and an Elspet: the former name is essentially the Scottish version of the latter, and how often would a family assign siblings essentially the same name, adjacent in birth order or otherwise? These anomalies merit scrutiny.

Accounting for spelling variations, we can’t find evidence of any Helen or Hellen born in 1807. There is a ScotlandsPeople record of a Helen who dies in Lumphanan in 1882 at age 78, but the record lists her mother’s maiden name as Gilespie. This simply can’t be a Helen of any stripe born to Ann, whose maiden name is in fact Cromar.

A variety of Elspets show up in the record in 1790, 1796, and 1817, to an Alexander, a Peter, and a George respectively. Elizabeths come along in 1804 and 1805 to Arthur and George. And Margarets? 1799 to Alexander, 1803 to Arthur, and a pair in 1809 to David and George. No Ann or John in sight. Ron may have had access to records I don’t, but until I can unearth some kind of primary source — and as tempting as it is, Ron’s notes cannot be considered a primary source — I can’t be sure about the section of the family group containing these four sisters after George. But, thankfully, the core of the patrilineal line remains secure with solid documentation of George.

Ann of Lumphanan, an “original” Cromar?

One recurrent phenomenon Ron, Kevin, Paul and I can all confirm is the frequency with which Cromars marry Cromars in this part of Scotland. Ann Cromar of Lumphanan is not the only example of this in my lineage. To modern sensibilities this insularity appears at best overly consanguine, at worst incestuous. Consanguinity in marriage is more or less tolerated depending on time and culture. For a nobility with time and money to indulge in travel (and therefore open to wider opportunity), a consanguine marriage was a choice to consolidate power and wealth. For common folk such as my family, such a marriage may have signified opportunity severely limited by geography and resources.

But there may be something else going on in the case of the Cromars. In this part of the world, Cromar is a toponymic surname derived from the Howe of Cromar. ScotlandsPeople identifies the presence of this surname as far north as Fraserburgh and as far south as the Borders, from Aberdeen in the east to Glasgow in the west: in short, spanning the country. Do all these Cromars share a close consanguinity, or do multiple iterations of the name indicate a watering down of any common origin?

It’s surprising to learn that the use of surnames in this North Atlantic archipelago doesn’t become habitual until sometime after the Norman conquest in 1066. While a strong patronymic surname pattern (MacDonald, son of Donald, for example) is closely associated with Scotland, surnames based on the land — a place name, a geographic feature, an estate — may have been even more common. Names based on occupations or personal characteristics made up another class: there surely must have been a lot of blacksmiths back in the day, given the popularity of the surname Smith!

Adopting a surname

The case of my patrilineal ancestry may reveal more than one manner in which people adopted a toponymic surname. Recall the origin story this journal was founded to discover: that our family were refugees escaping some strife who ended up taking the name Cromar to hide their tracks. This Cromar branch would be represented in the person of John 1760, son of Robert 1717, son of Peter 1690, son of… well, a MacDonald, according to family legend. Peter’s family, according to this theory, took on a name in the area to blend in. Cromar, a name common in the Howe, would be a logical choice.

The other Cromar branch in this couple, represented by Ann, may have been more established in the area, and therefore had little in common with the new interlopers other than a name. To be sure, there are other instances of a Cromar marrying a Cromar who evidently was not a close enough blood relative to raise eyebrows. Ron Cromar notes the union of Alexander Cromar (a cousin on my line) and Christian Cromar, the postmistress we met in the postal directories. Though Ron identifies Christian as a cousin twice removed from Alexander, Kevin Cromar’s epic study of the Roberts has established she belongs to an entirely different line, possibly the same one as Ann.

So my hypothesis is this: while John’s branch are immigrants, assuming his grandfather Peter is the refugee we think he is, Ann’s branch can claim a longer-standing residency in the area.

One for the record books

Can we establish this theory concerning Ann by record? Alas, Ann’s parents cannot be confirmed by a primary source as of this writing. The one record we have on the books that makes the case for her origin is her marriage to John in 1789 in Lumphanan. I think Ron’s logic would have been that the marriage followed the Scottish tradition of occurring in the bride’s home parish. Ann would have been 27, and John 29: an older couple to be sure, but not the outlier my original theory presented.

John adopts Ann’s home as his own, moving from Aboyne to Lumphanan. Their children provide enough breadcrumbs to hypothesize this is the earliest settlement of my patrilineal line in Marywell, Lumphanan. This can be confusing to those who know Marywell of Birse and the established Cromar presence there. By now, though, readers of this journal know the Cromars have a multi-generational presence in this south-easterly quadrant of Lumphanan, including Auchinhove, Bogloch, and Auchlossan. I now believe that presence began with Ann and John settling in Marywell of Lumphanan in the 1790s.

Mary Well

1 | Lumphanan area, with Lumphanan village at upper right and Marywell (indicated as two settlements) at far middle-left, just north of Auchinhove Cottage.
2 | Birse area, with Birse village at upper left and Marywell at lower right.
Both images screen-captures from genuki.org.uk

The Marywell settlement in question takes its name from a local spring that was named in honor of Saint Mary, the mother of Jesus. The well of Mary is found just to the east of Auchinhove Cottage, and the settlement is just to the north.

1 | Map detail showing location of Mary Well, the spring named in honor of Saint Mary. | Screen-capture from genuki.org.uk
2 | Walk just north of the spring and, still facing north, see the contemporary view of the Marywell settlement area. | Ann Burgess, 2017, geograph.org.uk CC BY-SA-2.0

In Robert vs. Robert vs. Robert Cromar, I had drawn conclusions about John and Ann that now need minor modification based on the new research informing this post, including their place of residence. To reiterate these conclusions:

• John’s parents are Robert Cromar and Jannet Dun.
• Robert is probably born in 1717 or later, probably in Aboyne or environs.
• Jannet is probably born in 1714 or later, probably in Kincardine O’Neil.
• John has several siblings including Rebeka 1752 and James 1765. Birth and various other records suggest the family starts in Kincardine O’Neil, moves to Aboyne, and later ends up in Lumphanan, perhaps even becoming the first Cromar tenant farmers at Milton of Auchlossan.

Still standing

The crazy part is that most of these assertions still stand, even though we’ve reassigned John’s identity from the 1755 John to the 1760 John! Ron Cromar’s hypothesis included both Johns as sons of Robert 1717 and Jannet Dun, though other sources challenge that. In my interpretation, I’m assuming for now that John 1760 is the child in question.

It’s not that I consider it impossible that both Johns belong to Robert and Jannet, incidentally. Sometimes when an infant died, the next baby of that gender was given the same name as the deceased child. Less often, we do see two or more living children in one family share a name. My skepticism lies in the proliferation of so many Roberts in this era constituting eligibility for fatherhood! The bottom line is 1) parents and siblings for this John don’t change regardless of conclusions drawn about his identity, but 2) the pattern of residence does change.

In the new paradigm, Ann and John become the first in a long line of Cromar farmers to settle in this quadrant of Lumphanan, specifically in Marywell, not Auchlossan — though we see Cromars aplenty flock to many Lumphanan enclosures adjacent to Marywell in future generations.

Clues in a name

So Ann Cromar remains genealogically if not geographically orphaned after these changes to my hypothesis. What hope do we have of tracking her further?

A traditional naming pattern

In researching this question, I came across a new-to-me tip: according to some web sources, the Scots had a traditional pattern for naming their children. This pattern can explain why so many Johns and Roberts and Peters and Anns and Christians and Jeans dominate Cromar nomenclature. Could such a naming pattern provide a clue for Ann and others?

The pattern starts as follows:

• The first daughter is named after the mother’s mother.
• The second daughter is named after the father’s mother.
• The third daughter is named after the mother.

Alternative schemes

At the FamilySearch wiki, alternatives are also described:

According to Donald J. Steel in Sources for Scottish Genealogy and Family History, (Chichester, Sussex: Phillimore & CO. Ltd., 1970, in National Index of Parish Registers Vol. 12, p 47) there are variations to the naming pattern described above.  Sometimes the second son and daughter were named after the parents.  Another variation is that the eldest son was named after the mother’s father, the 2nd son after the father’s father.  The eldest daughter was named after the father’s mother, and the 2nd daughter after the mother’s mother and so on.

An alternative scheme in the wiki also lists the following daughter pattern:

• The first daughter was named for her mother’s mother.
• The second daughter was named for her father’s mother.
• The third daughter was named for her mother’s father’s mother.
• The fourth daughter was named for her father’s father’s mother.
• The fifth daughter was named for her mother’s mother’s mother.
• The sixth daughter was named for her father’s mother’s mother.
• The seventh through tenth daughters were named for their mother’s four great-grandmothers.
• The eleventh through fourteenth daughters were named for their father’s four great-grandmothers.

I know, it’s a bit exhausting!

Similarly, the second son would be named for his mother’s father in this scheme. If Ann and John respected any of these traditions, their first (and only) daughter Isabel would be named for Ann’s mother, and since we don’t know that yet, it’s plausible. Steel’s variation would allow eldest (and, again, only) son George to be named after Ann’s unknown father. Therefore, are we looking for a George Cromar and Isabel Unknown, both born around 1720 to 1740, as parents to Ann? Alas, the thin records of the Jacobite period strike again, and no such persons or couple can be found. Nevertheless, this naming pattern might come in handy again elsewhere, if the Cromars are not always the iconoclasts we’ve been known to be at other times!

In my next post, we will further explore the ramifications of Ron Cromar’s notes on my overall hypothesis, after which I’ll return to climbing up the Cromar tree to the next generation of grandmothers, this time honoring Ann Meston, wife of George Cromar.