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I’m quite sure Willie was uncomfortable with the way I was staring at him as we sat in the well-appointed dining room of the Lamont Manse. It was the culmination of our genealogy efforts over the past couple years. We certainly never expected to meet the current gracious head of Scotland’s Clan Lamont Society, so when she offered to host us in the ancestral home, our excitement was incalculable!
It felt surreal to be sitting in a room associated with a very, very long line of Willie’s forebears. Moreover, the walls of the room were hung with numerous portraits of those ancestors. As I examined each painting hanging behind my husband’s head, I would glance back at his face. The family resemblance was stupefying. All of them, including Willie, had similar noses!
Beyond the portraits, there was an entire house to explore. The interior of the three stories was filled with Lamont-associated mementos and documents. We were able to see, in actual old household records, the comings and goings of names we had previously only seen on an ancestry chart. We were getting to know folks that had been gone for hundreds of years! It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, “It makes them come alive.”
The Lamont tartan, in its various iterations, was everywhere. From sumptuous silk drapes, to upholstery, to placemats, and even to the carpet on the unique staircase, we were enveloped in beauty and history. We learned so much about the when’s and why’s of each version of the tartan. This would prove useful beyond measure when we decided to honor Willie’s heritage with tartan drapes in our own little cottage.
The views from the windows took our breath away. There was the nearby loch. The light fog over the water in the mornings would slowly dissipate, revealing the pebbled shore on our side, and a distant blue-green shore opposite. It was both stunning and soothing to take the time to watch the transformation each day. During our visit, we were treated to a bonfire on the shores of that loch, followed by a lovely party with plenty of high spirits (both in human form and via wine and whiskey bottles.) The memory of it still burns as brightly as the fire that night!
Between the loch shore and a slightly distanced lone mountain behind the house, there is an extraordinary stone “kirk” (Scottish for church) and graveyard, where several ancestors were interred. The church yard is connected to the manse yard and both are enclosed within hand-built walls, created centuries ago. The sky each day was royal blue and the air was crisp. Even without a breeze, autumn leaves drifted down upon us. The only sound we heard was the rustling of tall weeds as we passed. Wandering beside those ancient stone walls, the modern world fell away. We felt like time travelers!
They say that the sense of awe and wonder slowly slips away as we leave childhood behind. I can tell you we found it again in Scotland. We can’t wait to go back.