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Pt 5 David and Ragnhild

26/1/2014

Queen Ragnhild circa 800

Ragnhild ~ My first childhood memories

Born twenty years earlier, a baby girl was born in Budapest (1888), on a sunny morning during the coldest winter within living memory. The Danube was frozen over and the land lay white beneath the snow.

“There is only one name for that child - Ragnhild,” said her Norwegian grandfather, Gulbrand Gregersen, after a look at the sturdy infant.

Ragnhild was the name of the most famous queen of ancient Norway - famous for her prophetic dream that her country would be unified. Norway was still divided at that time, 800 A.D., into many small kingdoms, perpetually at war with one another. Queen Ragnhild dreamt one night that she was standing in her orchard and took a thorn out of her shift. As she was holding the thorn in her hand, it grew into a big tree, one end of which struck down into the earth and became firmly rooted, while the other end grew very high into the air and became so dense with foliage that she could not see through the branches. The lower part as red like blood, the trunk was fresh and green, and the branches were as white as snow. There were so many branches that it seemed to her that they covered the whole of Norway.

She asked a wise man to explain this dream. He told her that a son of hers would united Norway and rule over it. In due course the Queen bore a son who was given the name of Harald after he was sprinkled with water. He soon grew strong and remarkably handsome. He swore he would never cut his hair or shave his beard until he had fulfilled the dream. Hence the name Harfragre, meaning ‘with the beautiful hair’. He fought and defeated all the other kings in a series of battles in the year 872 A.D. and Norway has remained one kingdom ever since. Whether he cut his hair afterward is not recorded.

This is the Queen that Lady Ragnhild was named after.

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Pt 4 David and Ragnhild

19/1/2014

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Budapest Parliament Bldg

Budapest: the turning-point in Davie's life

Some apparently unimportant event often turns out to be the decisive factor in shaping the course of a man’s life. So it was with Davie Campbell when he accepted an invitation to spend a few months abroad. Though he little realised it at the time, this was to be the turning point of his life.

In the late spring of 1914, Professor Lumnitzer, an eminent surgeon from Budapest, approached the University of Edinburgh with an invitation for a student to give English lessons to his son who was to study medicine there. Davie Campbell was the one who accepted.

And so, one fine day, Davie Campbell arrived in Budapest. He looked round the crowded Central Station. Sándor, his pupil, was supposed to meet him but was nowhere to be seen. ‘He must have forgotten,’ thought Davie. Deciding not to wait, he took his suitcase and climbed into a cab, handing the address written on a piece of paper to the cabby. The cabby, of course, did not speak English.

Meanwhile, the Lumnitzer family sat down to a late lunch. They were waiting for their guest’s arrival from England. At last the two young men turned up at the same time but not from the same place. Sándor had gone to meet Davie at the Western Station.

The family consisted of the surgeon himself, his sister and his two children, who affectionately referred to their aunt, as did everyone else, as ‘Enyi Mama’. That charming 1ady looked after Sándor and Manci after their mother's death, and loved them as a mother would have done. She took to the young Irishman at once, making him feel at home, and a member of the family. Professor Lumnitzer, the surgeon at the Red Cross Hospital, included the two students in his daily round of visits at the hospital and allowed them to observe his operations. This afforded them a great opportunity to gain practical medical experience. Sándor and Davie soon became good friends and the summer started in a happy round of work and fun.

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Pt 3 David and Ragnhild

12/1/2014

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University of Edinburgh

Galway College and Edinburgh University ~ Davie

Davie went to Galway College with a scholarship. He got his B.A. there, but his last year was full of mischievous pranks. One of these concerned a distant relation of his, a lecturer at the College. Davie heard that he had just succeeded in becoming engaged to a lady who had been unable to make up her mind. Accordingly, Davie sent a wire to his grandmother in Derry.

It read: “I am a happy man Margaret has at last accepted me."

It bore the lecturer's signature. Grannie, delighted in being promptly informed of this long-awaited event, sent her warmest congratulations. Mentioning Bruce and the Spider, she praised his perseverance which gained for him dear Margaret’s hand. In spite of his innocent face Davie was suspected almost at once.

In addition to such pranks, he played rugger enthusiastically and with ability. He worked harder at that than at his studies, and consequently, he lost his scholarship. As Davie’s father was no longer alive (he died in Bordighera, Italy in 1901 of sprue, contracted during his service in India), his Uncle Sam was responsible for his upbringing. He might have been expected to be angry at this news about the scholarship, but his only comment was: “Davie is alright, he just did not mind his books.” However, he thought it better to take him away from Galway and to send him to Edinburgh.

This was a wise move. After the death of her husband in 1910, Mrs. Campbell had set up home there. It was the only time she could have the whole family with her. Under her stern supervision Davie, even though he still played rugger, and in fact, got his ‘Blue’, got down to work. The result of this was a M.A. (Hons.) degree in Mathematics. After this he decided on medicine like his elder brother Boyd, who, by the way, is a Rugger International.

Davie was a good all-round sportsman in spite of a permanent injury to his left hand, caused by a boyish escapade. This happened while he was still at Foyle for schooling. One day, Tom, Boyd, and Davie played truant from school and went to watch a game of rugger. To get back to school in time, they climbed a wall which had glass on top to prevent people from climbing over. Davie cut his hand badly, but did not show it to the headmaster, and it was not dressed until that evening. The tendon was damaged and gradually the finger began to draw in. This remained a handicap for life. However, he never allowed this to interfere with his skill at games. No one was better at catching a cricket ball in Dar-es-Salaam in the thirties, nor was there a better scrum-half. He was equally good at casting a line over a trout in the Kenya Highlands, or skiing on the snowy Tyrolean slopes in Austria.

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Pt 2 David and Ragnhild's Story

5/1/2014

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Foyle College live link to website.

Davie - Schooldays and Holidays

His school days started at the junior school of Foyle College, Londonderry. “I used to walk the distance of over two miles every day along this road, to and from school,” Davie told me when we were driving on that same road to visit his grandmother in 1920.

Davie’s teacher told a characteristic anecdote relating to these years. He said that Davie, a wee boy with bright eyes and a pale face, dark, thin and intelligent, was sitting near the back of a somewhat dark class-room in the famous old ivy-covered school. For some reason, perhaps for talking when silence was the law, or for careless work, the teacher suddenly called out:

“David Campbell, come to the desk.”

As Davie trailed slowly to the front of the class-room, his hands hidden behind his back, the teacher lifted his cane.

‘Hold out your hand,” said the big man. The small boy drew one arm forward and held out a very dirty hand.

The teacher's cane balanced in mid-air and remained there. “Now, look here. I'll give you a chance,” he said. “If you can find another hand in this room as dirty as that one, I'll let you off this time.”

Quick as lightning, Davie's second arm swung forward, and both hands equally dirty, were held out.

Although the children lived in Londonderry for most of the year, they spent the summer holidays at Druckendult in the County of Antrim. There was a very large farm-house, where their mother's family, the Boyds, lived after giving up Greenville. Accordingly, the children grew up against a background of contrasting Irish scenery. There was Donegal of the vast landscapes, where cloud shadows tear across heather-clad slopes, madly driven by the high winds, and giant headlands rise sheer from the sea; and in contrast, the wooded glens of Antrim, gently sloping towards the sunlit coast.

From Londonderry it was easy to get to Donegal. The wind-swept and sandy beach of Dunfanaghy Bay was good for setting up camp. Here they lived in tents, fishing for their daily fare, cooking it themselves with the coastguards’ kind help. On the smaller beaches, they searched eagerly for kitchen middens, where remains of minor archaeological importance could be found, left by prehistoric man. On Seesiagh Lake they learned how to cast a line over surfacing trout, leaving widening circles over the still waters. They climbed Muckish, dominating Donegal in brooding majesty, to add a stone to the great cairn.

The summer at Druckendult meant not only a change of scene, but also an entirely different set of activities, joys, and interests. The Garry Bog was very near to the farm and a constant delight to the boys. They roamed about it for whole days, running lightly over the springy turf of the wind-swept plateau, jumping bog holes, searching for white heather or collecting seagull eggs. Their noisy companions, Billy and Towser, a fox terrier and a collie mongrel, were always in the lead. According to young Davie, they were the best pair of dogs in the county. Then there was the River Bush, so different from the broad, gently flowing Foyle. In the Bush they fished for hours on rainy days, returning home drenched and tired, but full of exciting details of their exploits. Sometimes the children went further afield, wandering through the sunlit glens, down to the coast for a swim in the sea, looking for shells. Even at this age Davie's love of nature showed itself, in his fondness for small animals, birds, fish, and butterflies. He was a little chap of gentle disposition, always ready to help others.

He did well at Foyle College. However, there was a little incident. Paddy Wood, one of the more senior boys, had organized a hunting party of six Red Indians, the youngest of whom was Davie. They were to stalk a wild buffalo in the fields behind the College. Paddy, the ‘Big Chief’ and leader of the Sioux Indians, successfully lodged an arrow in the eye of the buffalo, which happened to be the Headmaster's cow! There were dire results. The cow died; Paddy was expelled and the others were pardoned after a reprimand. Years later when my husband worked in the Secretariat in Dar- es-Salaam, he introduced me to the captain of a tramp steamer, commonly known as ‘the Vomit Line’, plying along the East African coast, from Lindi to Dar-es-Salaam, Klindini and Zanzibar.

“Meet my friend Paddy Wood,” he said. “We went to school together in Derry."

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Pt 5 David and Ragnhild

Pt 4 David and Ragnhild

Pt 3 David and Ragnhild

Pt 2 David and Ragnhild's Story

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