who says there's no culture in northfield township?

plenty of plaid

                               macgregors in line for a tour of monticello


the american clan gregor society met last week in charlottesville, virginia, to celebrate its 100th anniversary. the red and green tartan was to be seen everywhere, though the hereditary clan chief, sir malcolm macgregor of macgregor, often wore the "rob roy" tartan of simple red and black (also known as buffalo plaid when associated with flannel shirts).  the mighty renegade rob roy is easily the most famous macgregor, perhaps the only famous macgregor. sir malcolm lives in the ancestral holding in perthshire, in western scotland. there is a project tracing the origins of the macgregors through DNA and the result suggests that the family actually originated in ireland a very very long time ago.

my mother was born elizabeth magruder, the surname being one of many variants of macgregor taken when the clan was outlawed by the english king in the early 17th century. the magruders of charlottesville (evelina's father) founded the american clan society in 1909; hence the festive gathering was held there. over 300 people attended from all over america. many of the older men wore kilts and the full kit that goes with them; ladies mostly made do with scarves in the tartan, though some had skirts, jumpers, or vests made for them. andrew asked what the average age of the attendees; my guess was 65.

we were very happy that my old friend from high school judy mitchell joined judith and me in charlottesville. for the banquet on saturday night, we dressed as formally as we could. judy mitchell is of the clan innes, so hers is that tartan. she came from maine, and kept us amused with her enthusiasm for it all. both judys were a little concerned that they were not 'real' macgregors, but they were welcomed very warmly.

the banquet was full of ritual, with lissome lasses dancing over the chieftan's sword, and sixteen pipers piping (sixteen is a lot of pipers, especially indoors), and bobbie burn's "address to a haggis" read dramatically. and incomprehensively in a heavy brogue. everyone got bits of perfectly acceptable haggis, served traditionally with neeps and tatties, and we sang the national anthem, and 'o canada,' and even 'god save the queen,' the best of the all and one i've never heard sung on these shores. with almost 300 people attending the banquet, i felt like an extra in a movie, just filling in the background with more plaid.

cousin ellen lovell donnelley, one of the many family members who constitute the whole virginia village of rapidan, invited local magruder descendants  for a special lunch at country club now assoicated with the old magruder family home 'glenmore.' here were about thirty of my relatives that i actually know. ellen lovell had specified in her will that some of her money be spent on a party after she died, but changed her mind and decided it was better to have the party while she too could enjoy it. there were virginia ham biscuits and less traditional salads and some very fancy desserts. this party was a highlight for me.

the handsome house from the mid-19th century is now part of an obnoxiously groomed upscale gated golf and equestrian community. i was glad to have a chance to see the house, as when i was growing up it still belonged to the family. my father took me there to work his dogs, hunt, cut our christmas trees (always a virginia white cedar) and i learned to drive there when i was ten, piloting his world war ii surplus jeep over its rutted farm roads, barely moving in low gear and four-wheel drive.

 

nice house, yes; glenmore was my great-great-grandfather's, just one of the two lovely classic virginia estates that got away (the other is edgemont), both purchased by yankees. the magruder family retains the right to visit the cemetery and so we did. the most evocative tombstone is the simple one of john bowie magruder, who was fatally wounded in pickett's charge at the battle of gettysburg.

john bowie was teaching latin when the war started and enlisted at once in the army of northern virginia. he was a good leader who was made a colonel shortly before he died, at age twenty-three. he was taken from the field to a union hospital, and there cared for by a doctor who happened to belong to the same fraternity. the doctor wrote the family describing john bowie's courage during his last three days and, as he was an officer, his body was returned to glenmore 'under a flag of truce.' my great-grandfather was his brother, whose leg had been amputated and thus could not serve in the army.

the slave census of 1860 lists 49 slaves at glenmore, among the highest numbers in albemarle county.

my interest in the civil war is limited, but to carry out judith and judy's wishes to see appomattox, the site of lee's surrender to grant in april 1865, we drove there the next day, with a stop at the nearby battlefield of sailor's creek. this was the last battle of the war, when 7,700 men, including 12 generals, all that remained of lee's army surrendered. sailor's creek is now a virginia state park in a quiet landscape of rolling hills. a very well informed young woman ranger described the battle to us (the only visitors) in vivid detail.

 

this small private house at sailor's creek was commandeered for use as a field hospital, treating both union and confederate soldiers, more than 500 of them in one day. the woman of the house described seeing piles of amputated limbs outside. when our contemporary civil war enthusiasts go out for civil war reenactments, who gets their legs or arms amputated? i don't understand the appeal of these exercises: surely war is hell and why so safely imitate it?

being in viriginia is always a bittersweet pleasure for me. i miss the mountains and the authentic old-fashioned accents of my parents' generation. at least the mountains will remain for quite a while.