.....
The shoots of the rye grass lie in ever-decreasing swathes as Murdo works his way around the field swishing the scythe from side to side. He has risen early this morning hoping to have the hay crop felled before the summer sun is high in the sky. The hay needs to be dried and stacked before he sets off for Ullapool again in three days time. He wants to be present at the Commission hearings, to make sure the right message is delivered.
The children, Angus, Mary and Murdo walk up the track, returning from school just as their father finishes. He rests the scythe against the stone wall surrounding the field and wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Ye lads will need to stay home tomorrow. Ye help is needed to turn the hay.”
“Aye, Papa, I remember what to do from last year,” Angus keenly offers.
“Och, Papa, Mr MacAndrew is gonna teach us some more about money tomorrow,” groans wee Murdo thinking money is much more exciting than hay.
“Well, me lad. If we donnae get the hay harvested, we cannae feed the animals in the winter and we donnae make any money from them if they are skinny.”
Wee Murdo doesn’t know what hay has to do with money but he does know the look on his father’s face. It isn’t wise for him to question his father’s decision. He is certain there will be other opportunities for him to learn all about money and what it can do for him.
The next day dawns bright and sunny. It is a long morning as three generations of Murdos and Angus work their way around the field turning the rows of hay with a pitchfork as they go. Grandad Murdo has come to help too but at seventy-four years of age he is not quite as agile as he used to be. He has plenty of words of wisdom for wee Murdo and regales him with many a story of how things used to be in his day. Wee Murdo thinks not much has changed as they slowly work their way around the field. Angus and his father are much more proficient with the fork and turn three quarters of the crop.
Annie duly arrives at lunchtime with a basket full of bannocks. Mary carries a jug of water and wee Ann some mugs. Everyone stops work for a short but welcome break. Thirsts are quenched and rumbling stomachs pacified before the routine begins again. The shoots of grass which this morning were green when forked to the topside, are now browning under the sun’s rays and need to be turned once again.
“She’s as good a crop of hay as ye’ll get from this land.” Grandad Murdo has seen many a crop in his day and he’s watched the yields steadily decline. Without sufficient land to leave fallow and limited supplies of kelp to fertilise the pasture, the bountiful crops of old are long gone.
“Aye, one more turning on the morrow and she’ll be ready to stack.”
“Angus, Murdo, come make huts in the hay,” Mary suggests, keen for some fun.
“Och, Mary, donnae mess up our rows. We’ve spent all morning working on them,” growls Angus who has no time for games.
Wee Murdo would love to build huts but wanting to appear grown up like Angus, he follows his lead and makes out he too has no time for child’s play. The four males grab their pitchforks and set off again. Annie and the girls return to the croft.
.....
By the end of the third day of haymaking, all of the Campbells in Achadh’ a Braigh are exhausted. The stack of hay sits proudly at the edge of the field. The men inhale the aroma of the sun-dried grass as if they too are cattle keen to devour it. Murdo breathes a sigh of relief that this major chore has gone to plan and he can now go off to Ullapool to sit in on the Napier Commission hearings.
Angus and Murdo are still asleep when Murdo leaves the next morning. Annie has had another restless night with the unborn bairn and gets up to help Murdo pack some oatmeal bread for the journey.
“I’ll stay with Roderick and Barbara at the store if ye need me for anything me love,” Murdo reassures Annie.
“How long will ye be gone for?” Annie has an inkling the bairn is on its way. She knows how important the Commission hearings are for Murdo and does not want to say anything that will stop him from going.
“I think the hearings will only be three, maybe four days at the most. A day to get there and a day to get back; I’ll be nae more than a week to be sure.”
Murdo kisses Annie on the cheek and sets off again, out of the croft and down the track in the early morning light. Annie pats her swollen stomach and quietly suggests to her unborn bairn that it stays there for another week.
.....
In July, Ullapool becomes a hive of activity. The herrings are full fed and fat and the harbour is busy with boats coming and going. The pier becomes an outdoor factory. The boats’ catches are unloaded into creels and the women set about sorting, processing and salting them. The herring season provides an opportunity for an annual catch-up for most of the women and their chatter gets louder and louder, each wanting to be heard over one another. Gulls hover overhead, attracted by the salty smell of a free feed of fish, squawking and fighting with each other for the tastiest morsels.
The general merchants where Roderick works and lives is on Shore Street opposite the pier. The doorbell jingles as Murdo enters the shop. Roderick looks up from behind the counter to see who his next customer is and is surprised to see his brother.
“What brings ye to Ullapool, me dear brother?” he asks as he comes forward to greet Murdo, wiping his hands clean on his white apron.
“I just needed to see if me brother has found a better place to raise his family,” replies Murdo curious to see how Roderick has fared over the past three years. “Looks like ye’ve been well fed from the store’s supplies,” he jokes noticing Roderick has put on some weight since he last saw him.
“Aye, we be fine thank ye. Barbara misses the peace and quiet of the countryside and the kids seem to catch every sickness there is but we are all good. And ye?”
“No point in complaining. I’m here for the Napier Commission hearings. See if we can get the Parliament to listen to the plight of the crofters. There’s been two bad years for crops and there’s nae money to pay the increased rent they demand from us.”
“There’s plenty of fishing boats go out of here over to the East Coast. They are always looking for crewmembers. Pay them well too, I hear. Ye could go,” suggests Roderick.
“Annie’s about to have another bairn. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Well just ask across at the pier. Someone’s bound to want a good man. Ye’ll be staying with us then will you? We donnae have much room but ye’re welcome.”
“Aye, thank ye Roderick. Just for a few days, while the hearings are on. It’ll be good to catch up with Barbara and the children.”
Roderick turns the door sign to ‘closed’, latches the door and the men go upstairs for the evening.
.....
Some eighteen men come before the Commission’s sitting in Ullapool. They present their submissions and answer the questions asked by the five-member panel. Murdo sees William Gunn, the factor there. He is one of the last to speak and as expected has a different perception of the crofters’ lot. He tries to discredit many of the crofters who have spoken, claiming they have more cattle than what they have said and that they do not have the authority of the villagers for whom they speak. Murdo is relieved though that the Commission members seem to remain neutral, collecting information and not appearing to take sides with the crofters or the factor. Reverend McMillan speaks at length and the Commission thanks him for his suggested solutions to the issues confronting the Highlanders. No conclusion is reached. No promises are made. The chairman of the Commission simply declares that they will present their findings to Parliament and it will be for Parliament to decide.
.....
Murdo almost has a bounce to his step as he walks up the hill to the croft. He can’t wait to share his news. The hearings went well. They are planning a land raid next week just to prove their point. He’s secured a position on a boat to go fishing over the east coast in two weeks time. Life is looking more positive than it has in a long while.
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“Surprise!” He greets everyone as he bursts into the croft.
He expects everyone to be around the fire at this time of day but no one is there.
“Surprise Papa!”
Murdo looks to the bed in the corner where all of the children are huddled around their mother. Murdo’s mouth drops. He is momentarily stunned. Annie cradles a new bundle in her arms.
“Aye, me love. Ye wee lassie couldnae wait for ye return. Come and say hello to ye new daughter.”
“Och, Annie. I’m sorry I wasnae here for ye,” Murdo apologises as he gazes down at his third daughter. “She’s beautiful – just like her mama.”
“Ye mama was here to help with the birthing. I think we should name her Jessie after ye mama.”
“Well, isn’t it a fine family we have. Angus, Mary, Murdo, Ann and now wee Jessie. Ye all make a man so proud.” Murdo admires each of his children and decides his news can wait till the morrow.
Chapter Five
Coigach, Scottish Highlands 1890
“Och, Murdo, what’s up with ye? It’s unlike ye to still be abed at this hour of the morn.” Annie worries that Murdo has come down with something. He’s been out in the cold of winter again attending Land League meetings.
“I just feel a bit tired and cold.”
“Cold? Me love, ye be drenched with sweat. I think ye be carrying a fever.”
“Nae, it’s nae much. I’d best be getting out of bed to feed the animals.”
“Ne’er ye mind about the animals. Angus has already been out giving them a feed of hay. I think we’d best be fetching the doctor.”
“Nae, we donnae have any money to waste on a doctor.” Murdo rolls onto his side and swings his legs over the side of the bed to get up. “I’ll be fine.” He tries to push himself up but the effort is too much. Unable to catch his breath, a phlegm-fuelled cough escapes his throat as he collapses back onto the bed.
Annie doesn’t know what to do. The older children have all gone off to school. She cannot send one of them to fetch the doctor. She cannot leave Murdo and at two and four years of age, Alexina and John, her youngest two children, are too small to leave the croft to fetch anyone.
Annie helps Murdo sit. She holds a mug of water to his lips. Between coughs he manages to take small sips and eventually the cough abates.
“We’d best get ye out of these wet clothes.”
Murdo shivers. “Och, Annie. It’s sure nice of ye to want me naked but I donnae think I have the energy.”
“Murdo!” she jokingly growls, thinking he cannot be too sick if he can still tease her. “We need to get you into some dry clothes, not naked.”
They work together and eventually have Murdo re-clothed and tucked up under a dry blanket. The effort leaves Murdo exhausted and he soon yields to a restless slumber. Annie wipes his brow with a cool damp cloth. John and Alexina come to the side of the bed sensing all is not well and wanting reassurance from their mama.
“Papa’s caught a chill. We just need to be quiet so he can rest and get better.” Annie hears herself say the words, but does not quite believe them. She prays that Murdo will be all right.
.....
It is late afternoon when the older children return from school. Murdo dozes on and off all day. Annie manages to get him to have a small mug of broth but that too ends in a fit of coughs. Annie knows Murdo has more than just a chill. He needs to see the doctor. There is a little money in the box on the dresser. It has been put aside for some more meal to see them through winter but they can find some other way to buy the meal. Murdo’s health is much more important.
“Och, Mama, ye look exhausted. What’s wrong?” asks Mary as she enters the croft and sees her mother’s worried look.
“It’s ye papa.” They turn, following their mother’s eyes as she looks at the bed in the corner of the croft. “He’s come down with something. We need to fetch the doctor.”
“I’m the oldest. I’ll be quickest going to get him.” At seventeen, Angus has matured into a strong young man. The physical farm work has toned his youthful muscles.
“Nae, we need ye here to feed the animals and make sure the farm keeps working,” counters Annie who has already decided what needs to be done and who needs to do it. “Murdo, ye will need to set out at first light for Ullapool. I’ll pack ye some food and ye will need to have ye warmest clothes. I donnae want ye getting sick like ye papa.”
“I can go tonight Mama,” offers Murdo.
“Nae, me son. Ye have ne’er been to Ullapool before and it’ll take ye the best part of two days. Ye best not set off in the dark and get lost.”
Young Murdo has seen the road that leads to Ullapool, winding its way around the coast, but concedes his mother is probably right.
“Aye Mama, I can do that.” Murdo is proud that he is finally being given some responsibility. It seems to Murdo that Angus, as the eldest son, is always treated more like an adult than a child. At thirteen years of age and on the verge of manhood himself, Murdo wants to prove he is worthy of the same respect. “Where will I find the doctor?”
“Just find your Uncle Roderick in the general store by the pier. He will know where the doctor is to be found.”
“Is Papa gonna be better tomorrow?” wee Jessie asks her Mama.
“Well, we hope so,” Annie replies, hoping to convince both the children and herself.
Mary adds another peat brick to the fire, stoking the flames to ensure the croft remains warm for her papa. She wants to do something practical and assumes responsibility for the cooking, stirring the pot of broth and returning it to the fire to be reheated for the evening meal. Wee Alexina starts crying and Ann picks her youngest sister up for a cuddle. The natural assumption of duties leaves Annie free to tend her husband whose breathing has become quite rapid even though he appears to be resting.
.....
There are no changes in Murdo’s condition while his son is gone. Annie does not know if this is good or bad. She barely sleeps, mopping his brow, changing his wet clothes and trying to ease his many bouts of coughing during daylight hours. Only able to doze on and off during the night, she is constantly listening to his laboured breathing, praying silently that he will win his battle with whatever has him in its evil grip. Nearly two days pass before young Murdo returns with the doctor.
“Good evening to ye, Mrs Campbell,” greets the doctor as steps through the croft door.
“Oh, Doctor Grant. Thank ye kindly for coming.”
“Ye best let me take a look at ye husband.” Doctor Grant removes his cloak and hat, and hands them to Mary to hang up. He picks up his medicine bag and heads toward the bed in the corner of the croft.
“Och Annie. I told ye I didnae need a doctor.” In a rare lucid moment, Murdo chides Annie. “Ye be wasting ye time dear sir. I be fine.”
“Let me be the judge of that me dear fellow.” The doctor removes his stethoscope from his medicine bag and pushes blankets and clothes aside to listen to Murdo’s chest. He can hear a rattling, and to the doctor this signifies fluid on the patient’s lungs. He presses his palms at first on one side of Murdo’s chest and then on the other.
“Ouch!” Murdo flinches at the pain.
“I need ye to sit up. Do ye think ye can do that?” asks Doctor Grant.
“Of course I can.”
Annie knows this is not true and is at Murdo’s side to help him into a sitting position. The effort brings on another coughing fit. The doctor takes a folded bandage from his medicine bag and asks Murdo to clear the phlegm from his throat into the bandage. There is blood in the mucus. It is not a good sign. When the coughing finally subsides the doctor places his stethoscope on Murdo’s back; again a rattling sound. They lay Murdo back down and place a thermometer under his tongue. The mercury rises to 40 degrees. The doctor needs look no further.
“Well, Mr Campbell, I donnae think ye be fine at all. I think ye have caught pneumonia.”
“But he will get over it, wonnae he Doctor?” Annie anxi
ously asks.
“How old are ye Mr Campbell?”
“He’s only forty-five and no illness to speak of before now,” Annie quickly replies, not considering all the winter’s chills Murdo has had, to be serious illnesses.
“Well then, if ye body’s good and strong, it will be well equipped to fight this infection. I’d give it two weeks. If it not be gone by then, then I’m afraid there’s nae that can be done.”
“It’ll be gone. A man has things to do. I cannae stay abed for two weeks,” Murdo manages to declare before he drops back off to sleep.
.....
For the next two weeks Annie clings to the only certainty she has. Murdo is only 45 years old. That is too young to die. Yes, he has carried more than his fair share of work, making sure the crofters at Achadh’ a Braigh are fed and sheltered but so has Grandad Murdo and he will turn eighty later this year.
Annie tries to live as if nothing is amiss. The older children continue to go to school when the winter weather permits. Everyone contributes to family life, doing the chores before and after school, ensuring animals are fed, meals are cooked and peat bricks are available to keep the fire burning and the croft as warm as possible.
Word of Murdo’s illness soon spreads around Achadh’ a Braigh and beyond to the extended Campbell family. Friends and family come and go. Some bring dry blankets and take wet ones away. Some bring what meal they can spare. Some bring an herbal remedy, for which the recipe has been passed down through generations. They all do what they can to help but none seem to be able to take the illness away.
A Better Place Page 4
