Where My Old Folks Settled

A Memory of Pitlochry.

My people were tinkers of the road. Power, Riley, Macarthur, O'Connor, Macallister and a few I have no knowledge of. Generations had mended tin, woven baskets, bunched broom and heather, one to sweep the floor the other to scour pots. In 1847 some left Ireland during the famine, with a vast knowledge of forestry and horses. They met and married with Perthshire and Argyllshire tinkers. Black Spout woods (Edradour) in Pitlochry offered everything they needed to winter settle - a steady supply of fresh water from the burn, firewood for cooking and warmth but most important this place was no man's land. There were no neighbours. The sanctified earth of this wooded area was a blessed Pictish burial ground. Tinkers all over Ireland and Scotland returned annually from their summer wandering to places like this; Weem near Aberfeldy, Fortingall, Dull, Fearnam, Comrie, Muthill and Crieff were a few spots where no hand to touch them. So it was no surprise that my lineage gathered at the Black Spout which holds over a hundred graves. It became their home and soon they were joined by families of the Johnstone, MacKenzie and Lindsay lines. Sadly authority was closing in around the lifestyle and demanding they halt their travelling ways, settle in houses, educate their children and find steady employment.
The Second World War had ended, my young uncle had lost his life, Granny was tired and broken-hearted and when Perth Council erected four nissan huts and bricked them into separate homes, she graciously accepted the offer of one. So on that day in 1947 she received the first set of keys given to a tinker for a council house. It was on Mr Butter's land at the Bobbin Mill. She lived their until 1960 when she decided to join her family in Fife.
Paternal grandparents also moved into a lovely little house at the top of Moulin called 'Lettochbeg' where they saw out their lives.
I was born in 1948 in Aberfeldy, therefore it was commonplace to spend ages with my grandparents where the songs and stories of our people were installed in my head. With all this culture and history swirling around my bones it was no surprise that one day I would write a book. Such is the richness of my people's history that I am an author of six books, all best sellers.
'Jessie's Journey' I am informed was my finest work but I feel that 'Bruar's Rest' is by far the deepest and takes in a wealth of the culture and the pain.