Màiri Campbell ~ Seanachaidh
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The Story of David and Ragnhild

31/12/2013

9 Comments

 
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Here is the first part of the story about Sir David Callender Campbell and wife Lady Ragnhild Campbell. For insight on how I obtained this please see prior posts under David Callender Campbell. The house in this photo is the one that David grew up in.


Two children, a boy and a girl were born towards the end of the last century. Their chance, of meeting was very remote as they belonged to countries which were far apart. Each had a different way of life and family background, and they did not speak the same language. However, not only were they destined to meet but they were to remain together until death separated them.

David Campbell’s early life.

The boy was born of missionary parents in India on a dark starless night on the 29th January, 1891. His father, the Reverend William Howard Campbell, christened him David Callender after his great grandfather David Callender of Leith. The influence of his father was an important factor in the formation of the boy's character, as they were both men of strong will and high principles. They were both outstanding athletes, and born leaders of men, and they exerted a great influence among their fellow-students at Edinburgh University. They were both keen politicians, and William founded a socialist society at the University.

As a missionary in Caddapah, India, he learned the language so well that he wrote books in it, notably a Telugu Concordance on the Bible.

“Master speaks with our tongue,” is what the congregation said of him.
~~~~~
Davie did not remember much about his early years in India. The child of a harmonious marriage, he was spared those bewildering perplexities and nightmares that mar the childhood of the less fortunate.

The first nine years of their marriage were among the happiest in the lives of the two parents, William and Elizabeth. William was absorbed in his missionary work, Elizabeth in setting up her home and in assisting her sister-in-law, Dr. Florence Campbell, in her medical work amongst the women of India. However, when Elizabeth's babies arrived in rapid succession, she lost interest in all but her family. Life in India never attracted her. The first impressions left by that strange land, on a mind matured on the strictest Victorian principles, was disturbing in the extreme. She was shocked by the uninhibited breeding habits of the ubiquitous monkeys, the disturbing ceremonies in the dark vastness of the temples, the child marriages, and the treatment metered out to widows. So shocked, indeed, that she kept herself detached from it all, as much as possible, and concentrated her attention on her family. She did, however, take pleasure in the fact that every time she produced another 'man child', she rose to higher esteem in the eyes of her husband's congregation.

The usual tour of a member of the London Missionary Society lasted about seven years. The time for going on furlough had already been extended by several months. Elizabeth was driven frantic by the thought that she would have to leave her children behind when she returned to India at the end of their required furlough. Tom, the eldest, was seven, Boyd was five, Davie was three, and Willie was a baby. Their education had to be considered, as well as the adverse effect which an additional seven years' stay in India would have on the children’s health. She was equally unable to contemplate the only alternative - that of letting her husband return to India without her. A cruel dilemma, but it had to be faced.

At last the family set off on the journey home. A long sea voyage, with four boisterous boys, was no small matter in those days. Trouble was to be expected, and trouble there was. Crossing the Red Sea little David got convulsions. It was touch and go, but, by a miracle he survived. His baby brother, Willie, died of malaria in the Mediterranean.

The year of home leave passed all too soon. The dreaded moment for Elizabeth had arrived. She had to decide whether to stay with her children, in her beloved Ireland, or to return to India with her husband. Elizabeth showed her courage. She said a tearful farewell to her children, and to Ireland, and went with her husband back to India. The children were left in the care of their parental grandmother at Ballynagard House in Londonderry on the River Foyle. A big house, with a large garden and orchard made it possible for the children to enjoy a healthy, busy, outdoor life.

Agnes Callender Campbell of Leith (born 1834) was a truly remarkable, highly gifted woman. She had eleven children of her own and was prepared to take on the care of her grandchildren. It was due to her that the children did not feel uprooted and unhappy after being separated from their parents. They took to their new life like ducks to water. The brothers spent their days running free in the big garden, climbing the old trees, looking for birds' nests, or playing at the water's edge. From the moment they came back from school they were full of mischief. Mr. Henderson, the land steward, put up with a lot from the boys, but the following incident was the last straw. The boys took turkeys from the farmyard, climbed into the trees and left the birds there because, they said, turkeys ought to roost in trees at night as they do in India. Mr. Henderson decided at last to speak to their grandmother.

“Was their mother a heathen?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” she answered. “You know who their mother is, Elizabeth Boyd from Ballymoney.”

“Were they suckled by savages then?” he asked, scratching his ear.

The children adored their grandmother. She would tell stories, read aloud, or sing to them in her sweet voice. And she taught Davie much. She was a devote Christian by example and precept, and from her he learned consideration for others. She taught him to crochet, so that he might make garments for the children of Dr. Barnardo’s Home. They went to Church on Sundays. They enjoyed large happy Christmas dinners, but were always looking forward to their parents’ periodical visits from India.

Agnes Campbell’s influence accounts for Davie’s strong re1igious principles, his determination to preserve the liberties of the Protestant religion, and for his liberal attitude towards educational and social reforms. He was to become an elder of the Church of Scotland in Malta during the Second World War, and for some time after.

From his grandfather, Thomas Callender Campbell, David learned to play Whist. During the long winter evenings little Davie played with his grannie, grandfather, and Aunt Alice; and so laid an early foundation for his later considerable skill as a Bridge player. He got his looks from his great-grandfather William Campbell of Ballynagard who was nicknamed "Beau Campbell".

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Looking for Feedback...

28/12/2013

3 Comments

 
PictureSir David's childhood home.
As many of you know I am working on a manuscript that was gifted to me. It is the story of Sir David Callender Campbell and his wife Lady Ragnhild (Gregersen) I have been trying to come up with a title as I work on this amazing and true life story of two people whom I truly wish I could have known while they were still on this earth. I feel very honoured to be able to tell their story.

I am also very blessed with all the aide I have received in learning more about these two people and their amazing lives. I have even been gifted with a few family photos from extended family members, as these two had no living children to carry on their story.

I am thinking of sharing the story in a series of weekly blog posts. Perhaps as you all read along, between us all a proper title can be thought of. The posts will be in rough draft form as I am trying to get through the entire manuscript. A full edit will be done once everything has been converted over from a very old typed copy to the workable format. This is a long process and I want to share the story for it is truly amazing.

Please let me know below or via private message if you would like to start reading this story via weekly blog posts. Thank you.

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French Alps Crop Circles in Snow...

24/12/2013

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For those of you that have not heard of Simon Beck, you are missing out. Simon is an Oxford-educated man that is self-employed… he makes maps. But the amazing thing about him is his artwork.

Simon spends hours, anywhere from 5-9 hours or until he’s tired, making snow art.  Most of the designs are simple geographic shapes… but they are far from simple. Standing next the snow art one cannot comprehend the complexity of what has transpired. You must pull back and look down upon them to truly appreciate what has been created.

His choice of canvas is the snow in the French Alps. He uses a sighting compass and measures distance with either pace counting or a string. He wears snowshoes for many of these designs but sometimes he does them sans snowshoes. Fresh snow is the best and despite the fact that his art will be gone within hours or by the next day, he is still out there creating beauty.

Please visit his Facebook page to learn more about him and too see more of his amazing snow art.

Happy Xmas everyone and don’t forget to share the beauty.



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Something to Ponder for the Holidays...

18/12/2013

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Please remember that the holidays are not easy, happy, or joyful for everyone. They are missing parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparent(s), friends, and some tragically their children. So remember if you are seeing someone who is looking melancholy, sad, or sitting quietly in a corner lost in thought... there is a good chance they are thinking of the people they are missing this holiday season.
I personally have two friends that just lost their mothers this month, another that lost her father just last month. And others that have lost their children.
Please remember to be kind in your words and gentle in your tone as you never know what another person is dealing with.
Blessing to each and everyone of you, not only for the holidays but everyday of the year. May the coming year bring brighter blessings, joyous new memories, and a lessening of the grief you may be feeling this year.
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Image obtained from the grief toolbox click the image to go to their page. Thank you.
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Holiday Greetings

11/12/2013

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The holiday season is upon us. There are many out there that get uptight when someone says Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas. How about if we all just smile and say thank you and also respond with which ever holiday greeting makes you happy.

It is supposed to be the time of joy, happiness, and good will toward your fellow human beings. Does it truly matter what the words are that someone says to you? As long as the sentiment behind the words are heart felt and sincere, it should not matter what the words are.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Xmas, Happy Yule, Happy Hanukah. These are just words. The feelings behind them are only wishing you joy and happiness during a time of the year that is difficult for many.

So with that thought in mind can we not just smile in return and wish the person joy and happiness in return… they did just wish it to you after all.

This great wide world is filled with people of various faiths and they all have different ways to say the same thing. While not everyone thinks the same way about things, it does not make them wrong. If everyone thought and felt the same way about things this world would be very boring indeed.

I propose for a change this holiday season that everyone smile, say thank you, and use whatever version of holiday greeting you choose. No matter what greeting you are met with.

I wish you all a happy and safe holiday season. For those that are dealing with the loss of loved ones, I hope that you find some comfort in happy memories of your loved ones.

May your words be kind, your voices gentle, and your hearts willed is love.

Blessings and good tidings to all of you my wonderful friends. Happy Xmas.


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    Màiri Campbell lives in WA with her husband and their three dogs

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