Category: David And Ragnhild

Pt 3 David and Ragnhild

12/1/2014

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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The Story of David and Ragnhild

31/12/2013

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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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Pt 3 David and Ragnhild

Pt 2 David and Ragnhild's Story

The Story of David and Ragnhild

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