Moffat, Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland.
Left the B&B in Leadhills. The breakfast was ok and the bed clean and comfortable, but there was no private bathroom -- I had to share with the family. Upon arrival I had to choose between a teeny bedroom (no room even for the suitcases on the floor) upstairs that locked but with a painted-shut window in a stifling house, or the slightly larger one downstairs with no lock on the door but a window that opened. It looked out on the back driveway and work shed, so blinds had to be kept closed. The bath nearest my room had a teeny child sized sink -- not cleaned every day -- and a toilet. The shower was upstairs next to one of the family's bedrooms. Essentially it was like renting a room in someone's home, with no living room use. Kind of like prison.
I arrived in Leadhills on Sunday and felt immediately a suffocating oppression which on th econscious level was a combination of the very high, steep hills and the narrow valley (wait'll you see the photos), the tiny miner's cottages crammed along the narrow streets, the general sense of a community a bit down on its luck, and the smell of burning coal.... and was there something else? Was I picking up on something left over from the pain and sadness that the Hastie family went through before they finally got out of there?
Yesterday, a mile away from Leadhills in Wanlockhead (which means, Head -- source -- of the Wanlock stream) I visited their lead mining museum. It included a tour into a former mine. Although lead mining was much less dangerous than coal mining, because the rocks are very stable and cave-ins and flammable gases are not an issue, the miners still had a hard life. Boys started at age 10-12, first washing the ore that came out of the mine. This meant standing in the little stream that ran past the mine opening in all seasons including winter. At age 12 they would start in the mine pulling the sledges with the mined ore out through the tunnel to the entrance and washing. The sledge, though small in size, could weigh 2-3 times what the boy weighed. The sledge had no wheels and the rocks were not smooth on the bottom but very sharp. The boys did not have shoes, the family being too poor to afford shoes.
The miners were only paid once a year, AFTER the ore that they had mined had been smelted and sold by the mining company. So, you bought your supplies on credit at the company store, and what you owed was deducted at the end of the year. Familiar story. I visited a miner's cottage that has been made into a museum. Central fire on the floor, smoke would have gone out the thatched roof via a chimney most likely. Very simple furnishings akin to those of Colonial America. Now the roofs have slate on them.
I do not know whether the Hasties were overseers of the mines, or miners. But the librarian in Wanlockhead told me that if they lived in the town for 4 generations, it is very likely that they were connected with the mines in some way. Were they the oppressed, or the overseers of the oppressed? Either way they would have participated in the pain and hardship of the capitalist system at its worst. It is no wonder that those who left, left. These villages were created entirely to mine and sell the lead for use out in the world; they had no other purpose.
There is NOTHING in Leadhills except cottages; a wee store selling newspapers, candy, and the odd banana; and a down-on-its-luck hotel and pub. I don't think the hotel is operating any more. It also has the miner's library, the first subscription library in the U.K. started in 1741. A wonderful older lady there is going to help me with family research on Saturday afternoon (I'll drive back there to do this). I walked up to the graveyard and spotted a few Hastie and Dunlop stones, but they do not have any names of ancestors that I know about.
I am in Moffat for the next 2 nights.
Love, A.
Left the B&B in Leadhills. The breakfast was ok and the bed clean and comfortable, but there was no private bathroom -- I had to share with the family. Upon arrival I had to choose between a teeny bedroom (no room even for the suitcases on the floor) upstairs that locked but with a painted-shut window in a stifling house, or the slightly larger one downstairs with no lock on the door but a window that opened. It looked out on the back driveway and work shed, so blinds had to be kept closed. The bath nearest my room had a teeny child sized sink -- not cleaned every day -- and a toilet. The shower was upstairs next to one of the family's bedrooms. Essentially it was like renting a room in someone's home, with no living room use. Kind of like prison.
I arrived in Leadhills on Sunday and felt immediately a suffocating oppression which on th econscious level was a combination of the very high, steep hills and the narrow valley (wait'll you see the photos), the tiny miner's cottages crammed along the narrow streets, the general sense of a community a bit down on its luck, and the smell of burning coal.... and was there something else? Was I picking up on something left over from the pain and sadness that the Hastie family went through before they finally got out of there?
Yesterday, a mile away from Leadhills in Wanlockhead (which means, Head -- source -- of the Wanlock stream) I visited their lead mining museum. It included a tour into a former mine. Although lead mining was much less dangerous than coal mining, because the rocks are very stable and cave-ins and flammable gases are not an issue, the miners still had a hard life. Boys started at age 10-12, first washing the ore that came out of the mine. This meant standing in the little stream that ran past the mine opening in all seasons including winter. At age 12 they would start in the mine pulling the sledges with the mined ore out through the tunnel to the entrance and washing. The sledge, though small in size, could weigh 2-3 times what the boy weighed. The sledge had no wheels and the rocks were not smooth on the bottom but very sharp. The boys did not have shoes, the family being too poor to afford shoes.
The miners were only paid once a year, AFTER the ore that they had mined had been smelted and sold by the mining company. So, you bought your supplies on credit at the company store, and what you owed was deducted at the end of the year. Familiar story. I visited a miner's cottage that has been made into a museum. Central fire on the floor, smoke would have gone out the thatched roof via a chimney most likely. Very simple furnishings akin to those of Colonial America. Now the roofs have slate on them.
I do not know whether the Hasties were overseers of the mines, or miners. But the librarian in Wanlockhead told me that if they lived in the town for 4 generations, it is very likely that they were connected with the mines in some way. Were they the oppressed, or the overseers of the oppressed? Either way they would have participated in the pain and hardship of the capitalist system at its worst. It is no wonder that those who left, left. These villages were created entirely to mine and sell the lead for use out in the world; they had no other purpose.
There is NOTHING in Leadhills except cottages; a wee store selling newspapers, candy, and the odd banana; and a down-on-its-luck hotel and pub. I don't think the hotel is operating any more. It also has the miner's library, the first subscription library in the U.K. started in 1741. A wonderful older lady there is going to help me with family research on Saturday afternoon (I'll drive back there to do this). I walked up to the graveyard and spotted a few Hastie and Dunlop stones, but they do not have any names of ancestors that I know about.
I am in Moffat for the next 2 nights.
Love, A.
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