1930's Monty on the far right, next is Commander Heathcote of
The Deck, at Chapel Green, Earlsferry,
center is Stanley Norie-Miller of Perth. Two
Cripps brothers on the left. At the ivy
covered front door of Bandirran House.
The
two, twelve pane windows on either side
of the front door and the six similar
windows on the two floors above had curved
wooden frames. The
glass panes were also curved to the same curvature as the
surrounding stonework. The ivy was removed in the mid-thirties.
Gerard Alexander
Moncrieff (Monty) who was born on the 23rd. of August 1878 was
my very good friend and was the second son of Sir Alexander
Moncrieff of Culfargie, KCB, FRS in Perthshire. Monty was educated at Winchester, Eton and Cambridge. He
told me that after he completed his formal schooling, his father, Sir
Alexander, loaned him
two thousand pounds which he was to pay back as soon as possible.
This he said he did in nine months. Monty had two sisters, and four
brothers, (Maud, Gladys, Malcolm, Alaric, Roger, Duncan ) several nephews and lady friends but he
never married. The Moncrieff family home was the mansion house on the Estate of Bandirran near the village of Balbeggie. There
is record that in the year 1248 the name was spelled Muncrefe which
always has been the vernacular of my speech. Monty was
more than just a man whose garden I helped to take care of and for
whom I caddied on the days that he played golf on the Elie and
Earlsferry golf course. Monty was a very good friend of
our family and I admired the man. Like wise he took an interest in
me and in time he became my mentor. Often
on
his walks around the village of Earlsferry he would drop by our house and spend an
hour or so while he joined us for a cup of tea. He was two years
older than my father and was a man who had a friendly smile and a welcome for everyone.
1942 In Monty's garden, Seaforth, Elie. Monty at 64. I'm 16.
This
beautiful soft suede leather coat with black astrakhan collar and cuffs is exquisitely
adorned with gold embroidery and is fashioned from
the hides of Tibetan Yak, fur side in. The coat was gifted to Monty by the
Dalai Lama at his palace at Lhasa in Tibet. Monty was one of very
few Westerners who had ever been invited to visit and stay at the
palace, high in the Himalayan mountains. The final part of his
journey to get there was by a caravan of yaks. This photo
was taken and developed by my brother Noel using his home made, cigar box,
cut film camera. The cigar box had contained Havana Corona cigars
that were sent anonymously to Monty on a regular basis from someone
in Cuba. (Monty's favourite pipe tobacco was Charles Rattray's Old Gowrie.) One of Monty's projects had been the building of a
railroad in Cuba to transport sugar cane and tobacco leaf from the Cuban outback to
warehouses that Monty had built in Havana. (United
Railways of the Havana and Regla Warehouses) Another interesting
and anonymous present that was sent to Monty every year from someone in China was a
two foot cube size box of the most delicious Chinese tea. At the time that I knew Monty
he had three pets that
also were gifts, a Capuchin monkey named Tony who had his hut and
run in the garden and indoors a black
cocker spaniel and a gray and red African parrot that was a good
speech imitator and could squawk several words and phrases. I
almost forgot about friendly "Balloch", one of a small herd of
shaggy highland cattle that Monty had kept in the pasture between
the curving driveway in front of the big house at Bandirran and the cottage by the
pond.
In the world of
merchant banking and world wide corporate finance, Monty was a man
of great accomplishment. He was on the board of numerous world wide corporations and his
financial empire which ran the gamut from the General Accident Fire and Life Assurance
Corporation, (GAFLAC) in Perth, Scotland to sheep estates in Perth, Australia (Australian Estates), took him to the far reaches
of the globe. He maintained an office and staff at 56
Gresham Street, London EC2 which
is the heart of London's financial district, the Inner Temple. Those
who have business fronts there are the elite of the elite in the
global world of finance and are members of a very exclusive club.
Monty conducted his business by daily telephone instructions from his
Elie home, Seaforth, that overlooks the harbour. John Richardson of
the Edinburgh law firm of Scott, Moncrieff and Trail carried out his
legal work. Monty's daily morning routine was to read the Financial
Times and The Scotsman newspapers. From these he got information for
his next game play in the market. His modus operandi was to search
for the best known corporate name in the most depressed and
ailing industry. He and his friends/business associates then bought
shares on the open market until they had the controlling interest in
the company. After this was accomplished a team of analysts and
specialists went on site to determine what it would take to bring
the company back to profitability and to be the leader of the
industry such that others who at a later time would buy in
would know that they had made a wise investment. Usually it
meant new management and a huge infusion of new money which Monty
and his friends could round up. I do believe that Monty accomplished
more in a few hours on the telephone that most do in an entire lifetime. After he
finished pulling his strings and setting his wheels in motion for
the day Monty did The
Scotsman's crossword puzzle which he usually completed in less than an
hour. He was an extensive reader and a member of the Book of the
Month club. His magazines were Time, Life, the Readers Digest and the yellow covered
National Geographic, many of which he passed on to me.
Monty was the most modest,
humble and generous man that I have ever
known. He did his best to convince me to join him in his business and go to his London office to
learn first hand what went on there and I made one trip with him to London to
meet his private secretary John Grammer who would have been my
superior had I gone to work there. To
transition from Earlsferry to London, two extremes, was just more than I was
prepared for so I had to say, No.
Monty was chairman of the board of
a company called Ralph W. Stewart & Co. Ltd., located in Dunfermline,
Fife, which processed raw rubber and manufactured rubber products
such as sports shoes. As a war time measure Stewarts had also
expanded, in conjunction with Lamond and Murray of Inverkeithing who
cut the gear teeth of the elevating arcs, to manufacture the main components of Bofors anti-aircraft
machine guns and also parts for army tanks. As a corporate perk from
Stewarts Monty had a company owned house, complete with a housekeeper,
assigned to him. Monty suggested that I sign up with Stewarts to
serve a 5 year mechanical engineering apprenticeship and while doing
so live in his Dunfermline house which I did.
Nov. 21st. 2014
This in an email to me from an ex
Dunfermline lady who
remembers me from her younger years.
I have just finished reading your recollections of your wonderful times
with
Mr. Moncrieff and I am so happy that I discovered your site.
I remember you and I have a hazy memory of Mr Moncrieff when you
were
in residence at Elgin Street in Dunfermline and being looked after by Mrs. Bower.
My Dad was an employee of Ralph W. Stewart Rubber Factory and we
lived
just a few houses further along the street. I was a very little
girl but it was
made clear to me that Mr. Moncrieff and Sidney Reekie were very
special gentlemen and to
be treated with much respect.
I came to Canada 56 years ago but I walk down memory lane and enjoy
those old
days and wanted to say that I do remember you.
Be safe, be well,
Nancy ------------
Thanks Nancy.
After 70 or so years our paths have crossed again. It is amazing that you remember me and Monty
and Mrs Bower who took care of us in the Dunfermline, Stewart
company house which for five years was home to me.
Going to Dunfermline
created the problem for me in that I would be unable to take care of
my Golden Labrador dog "June". It was timely in that
my going to Dunfermline coincided with the death of the head keeper
(Thompson-I never did know his first name)
at Bandirran's gun dog. He knew June and that she was an obedient and well
trained dog and he was very happy to provide
a place for her at Bandirran where she lived out her life as his dog. When I completed my five
years with Stewarts I joined the new firm that Monty had created in
Elie called The Fife Engineering Co. Ltd. (FENCO) It became my job to run the manufacturing side
of the business.
To
the rear of Bandirran House and parallel to it was a long building
that was divided into compartments. These were for the stabling of
horses, tack room, horse drawn carriages, general storage and
a garage that housed the 1911 family Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost. The space between the
buildings was an open courtyard about eighty, maybe a hundred, feet
wide. During the years of World War II when a detachment of Polish
soldiers occupied the house, the Polish soldiers, using Bandirran
milled lumber, constructed a roof over the courtyard and closed in
the ends to make the
area secure, dry and weatherproof. In this enclosed space they housed their
army lorries, mobile guns, towable fuel tanks, caterpillar track
armored tanks and general military equipment. At the end of WWII
Monty had the entire structure removed that the Poles had built and
taken to Elie in Fife where it was re-erected to make a new
"north light" roof
over a commercial automobile garage that Monty owned. Other
remodeling for Fenco included offices, an all new concrete
floor and a vertical recirculating steam boiler for winter
heating. Above on a second
level was created a very nice flat for his nephew to live in when he
came from his home at Notting Hill Gate, London to Elie and to Fenco.
The
location of Elie is
maybe the last place you'd think of to start up an engineering
business that required heavy cast iron and brass castings to be obtained
and shipped long distances, both in and out. Monty's reason for
bringing about the existence of Fenco was a personal one and the
making of money was not his prime reason for establishing Fenco. Fenco's location was
good in one respect in that all of the machinery's connected
electric motors required 440 volt 3 phase AC power and the village's
main line incoming power to the high voltage step down transformer was located just a few steps from Fenco. The products
that Fenco became tooled to manufacture were a line of "Scarab" oil firing burners and "Ismailia"
non-return penstock valves the patents for which were owned by one
of Monty's brothers in law and administered by his nephew. The unique thing about the Scarab
oil burner was that it could steam atomize and burn low cost fuels of high viscosity
(even tar) that could be heated and
thinned and by gravity made to flow down a pipe to a burner that
could not clog. (Until the boiler got up a head of steam the fuel
oil was atomized by compressed air.) The Ismailia valve was a unique design in that the
free swinging cam operated lid of the two piece non-return valve had no hinge pin to rust and jam. Prior to Fenco
these products were machined at Sunderland in England at the Sir
James Laing shipbuilding yards. Monty's Fenco venture was short
lived as Fenco had not yet become self sustaining when, without
being prepared for this event, Monty did not return from his
wintering abroad on the island of Madeira. After this untimely happening, Fenco's orders for burners and valves ceased
and without these Fenco had no reason for being.
For a time I kept the enterprise semi-afloat by obtaining contract machining
work from two Aberdeen companies, Tullos Engineering and Allan Brothers
Oil Engines but without Monty Fenco's demise was inevitable. At the ventures end
I advertised for sale the entire contents of Fenco that
consisted of heavy manufacturing machinery. The buyer was a representative of the Israeli
government. It had been my job to determine, find, purchase and have
installed all of the machinery and
equipment that was required to carry out Fenco's stated business.
Apart from two, 4ft. diameter chuck, gap bed, German made Bernhardt Escher, engine
lathes that I found in the bowels of a captured German, Hitler youth, "Strength through Joy"
ship (from Wards of Inverkeithing ship breaking yard) that had been converted to become a floating and permanently at sea
German naval repair ship, all of the
rest of the machinery I obtained by bidding on it at government surplus machine tool auctions.
Most all of this equipment was almost brand new American World War II lend-lease
machinery that had become redundant when World War II ended. Now to
pay outstanding bills it became my job to close the door. When the contents of Fenco were advertised for
sale in the national machine tool newspaper, "The Machinery Market", a
man who was a machine tool scout for the Israeli government chartered a plane to fly him from London to
Edinburgh and back. From
Edinburgh he hired a taxi to bring him to Elie. It was obvious that
the man had made a "find". After a brief look at Fenco's
machinery he
announced, "I'll take everything." He then gave me instructions to have the many tons of machinery crated and shipped to Tel Aviv
in Israel where the Israelis were starting to build big guns and
tanks and were tooling up for the possibility of a war breaking out
in which they might have to defend themselves.
There
was one caveat that had to be signed when a purchase of UK
government war surplus machinery was made and that was that if the
buyer were to resell this machinery, that had been part of the US/UK
Lend/Lease program, that to protect the American economy it could
not be sold such that it would reenter the United States.
(After the ending of Fenco I was at a loose end and responded to a
newspaper Help Wanted ad. which resulted in my next place of
employment becoming The English Electric Company in Stafford
England.)
I don’t know
what Monty did to acquire it but he had the green uniform and
regalia and held the ancient title of Royal
Scottish Archer which, Monty said, gave him the right and the expectation to be in the presence of any of the
Royal family whenever they should be in Scotland.
Monty was a
practical man. He knew that I was mechanically inclined and at an
early age he gave
me my first lessons in mechanics by teaching me how to drive and take
care of his car, first a fluid flywheel Daimler then a Rover, including religiously doing periodic oil changes.
(Before the Daimler he had a Lanchester) Now at 92 years of age I still
like to change my own oil and
maintain my vehicles and mechanical devices that in past
years have included boats and airplanes to the extent that I never
have had a mechanical breakdown of any kind nor the need to employ
the services of a commercial mechanic. Monty really liked cars.
In 1937 at the Ford dealer's place of business in Kirkcaldy be bought two American Ford
V-8s which were identical except that one was dark green and the other was
tan. Monty believed in having an on hand supply of spare parts,
should he ever have the need.
Later I ended up with the
tan one.
The Moncrieff
family home of Bandirran House when I began to know it in the 30’s
was fully and lavishly furnished but it had not been lived in on a regular basis
since 1920. At that time the 1911 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (Gertrude) with but 20,000 miles on the clock was put up on blocks and there it
remained for 20 years until the Military, including a detachment of
Polish soldiers, occupied the mansion house during the years of World
War II. However, while up on blocks this great old car wasn’t
neglected. It's engine was run once a week and it’s oil was changed on a
regular schedule for all of these years. What a wonderful machine it
was for it’s day. Every car superlative of excellence in the dictionary
applied to that Rolls-Royce. It left the Rolls-Royce factory at Derby in
England in June of 1911.
During that particular month Rolls-Royce produced only two cars.
Rolls-Royce made only the engine, the running gear and the chassis. The coach building
firm of Hooper and Hooper in London made the body. The interior
was all leather with the filling of the upholstery entirely pure
white long horse hair from the tails of white mares. One potential
inconvenience was that the back and front wooden
spoked wheels were not interchangeable. The Rolls- Royce was taken to Dunfermline in Fife where it was stored at the Stewart
factory and while it was there
I had the pleasure of taking care of it and keeping it in running order. One thing I have to say
about a Rolls-Royce is that once you've driven or ridden in one, every other car
forever after is just transportation. The Silver Ghost was well
named as it was designed and built to be absolutely silent when it's
low compression engine was running and that it's moving parts were balanced to the degree that there
was not the slightest hint of vibration. While it had three forward
gears, when it was in high gear it could efficiently decelerate to a
crawl then, if you were easy on the pedal, it would smoothly accelerate back up to speed on the straight away without the need to shift
gears. And if you really wanted to be sporty this
Rolls-Royce had a stainless steel exhaust system that when out on the highway the
silencing muffler could be bypassed by pulling a lever that made the exhaust pipe
straight open pipe. The Rolls-Royce was later acquired by David Wemyss of Wemyss who had a July
1911 sister model. Where ever Gertrude is today she is now past her
2011, 100th birthday. Quite a mile stone.
Prior
to the occupancy of Bandirran House by the military for the years of
World War II the entire contents of the house were removed to
Perth for storage with one exception. One of the many oil paintings
in the house was his own oil painted portrait that was painted when
he was a small boy. This portrait he kept for himself to hang on the
living room wall of his Elie house, Seaforth.
In 1942 he gave his portrait painting to me as a gift.
The Estate of
Bandirran as I knew it comprised many square miles and encompassed terrain of
every description from sheltered fertile farmlands to timbered hillsides and
wild heather covered moors.
In addition to a great many
varieties of flowers the high walled
Bandirran garden produced an abundance of vegetables and fruits. Bandirran strawberries, black currants and huge
red table gooseberries were out of this world. Espaliered on the
walls were apples, pears and several varieties of plums.
It was the gardener's job to take care of the bee hives in
the garden but Monty and I both liked to work with the bees and
early in the season to start new colonies so the gardener
indulged us by letting us help.
"A swarm of bees in
May is worth a load of hay:
A swarm of bees in June is
worth a silver spoon:
A swarm of bees in July is
worth a butterfly."
The hives produced several hundred pounds of comb honey.
Starting in May the
hives were moved from the garden to the clover fields, to the lime
trees, to the epilobium (fireweed) and the wild flowers in the woods to finally,
in late July, ending up high on the purple heather covered moors. Dark heather
honey was my favorite. The greenhouse in the garden furnished tomatoes and grapes.
People who live on estates
while they may not make a lot of money actually live quite well.
Most all have gardens that provide for their needs for vegetables,
berries and fruits and estate people know how to live off the land.
Local farms provide farm crops on a low cost basis. I don't know how
it is today in Scotland but in my early days most every man who
lived in the country had one or more shotguns and knew how to use it
to provide for the needs of family and in many cases also to provide
for others who weren't gun oriented. The country had a prolific
supply of very good rabbits that made for an excellent source of low
cost meat. Monty taught me gun safety and gave me my first shotgun
that was a folding BSA single shot .410 with which I became quite
proficient. Years later he gave me a beautifully hand engraved 16
gauge double barrel that was made in France then later a very nice
Belgian made 12 gauge side by side double barrel. He also had a
beautiful matched pair of 12 gauge Holland and Holland's that were
a delight to carry and use. Monty also gave
similar guns to Noel my brother and the three of us had many great
days as with game bags on our shoulders we walked the fields, the
woods and the moors. There were other times that Monty invited
groups of his friends to come for a day's shooting. What great days
these were. On these days Noel and I elected to be beaters as
we had the run of the estate at all other times. When a big
shoot was held and lunch time was called and blankets were spread on
the ground and goodies of every kind appeared, these events did
indeed make for memorable and unforgettable times of le joie de vivre.
One day I had been out
shooting in the fields to the south of the cottage. As I walked I
spotted a large bull coming at me at a gallop. There was one tree
nearby that had low hanging branches which I hastily climbed up
into. Before doing so I propped the 12 gauge shot gun that I was
carrying against the tree. Both barrels were loaded and cocked ready
to fire. In my haste I had neglected to put the gun on
"safe". As the bull snorted and stamped its hooves at the
foot of the tree I could see that the barrels were pointing straight
at me. The bull spotted the gun and licked it which caused it to
fall over. Some one was looking after me that day as had the gun
fired I could have received its full blast. Another
day I returned to this place and found a single cylinder head that
had come off and fallen from an airplane's radial engine. I surmised
that the airplane that had shed the head was of American manufacture as
the precision machined overhead valve cylinder head had Hoover USA
needle, roller bearing activated tappets which to me was a very advanced
design. It must have been a twin engine airplane as I doubt
that a single engine plane could keep going minus one of
its cylinder heads.
Several times in the 30's
Monty took me to the small church that he occasionally went to that
was but a few miles from Bandirran. I've forgotten
it's name and just where it was or is located and if anyone who reads this recognizes
which one it was I'd very much like to hear from you. The only way I
can describe the church is that, beside others, it had two very beautiful stained
glass windows that were alongside of the Moncrieff pew. One
window depicted Jesus knocking on a door as he
held a lantern and had the wording, " Behold I stand
at the door and knock." The other window had Jesus the shepherd
with his flock of sheep and the
wording, " Lo, I am with you always even unto the end of the
world."
In one of
Bandirran's woods, near a pond we called the Curling Pond, for the
reason that it was always the first on the estate to freeze, is an ancient Druid Stone Circle and close by that is
Dunsinane Hill that Shakespeare tells of in his play Macbeth.
Imagine walking on the ancient lands of Moncrieff and treading amidst
a Druid stone circle and thinking of
the rituals that went on in this place by the ancients that
inhabited the region, then scrambling to the top of Dunsinane Hill
and tracing the outline of where Macbeth's castle
had
stood, then
looking about 15 miles to the north-west to Dunkeld and Birnam Woods
and thinking of the battle at which Siward, Macduff
or Malcolm Canmore slew Macbeth
and Malcolm was proclaimed the new King of Scotland. In addition to all of
this your home is in the village of Earlsferry and your playground is
Macduff's cave at the Earlsferry cliffs where Macduff sheltered as he was
waiting for a boat to take him to the other side of the Firth of
Forth to evade his pursuers. Such were the places of my
childhood.
One day
in what must have been April or May I filled
a back pack with supplies for a possible over night campout and hiked
for several miles to the southeast of Bandirran House and up on to the
high heather covered moors until I had almost come to Kinnaird
Castle and the valley of the River Tay. In late August and
September when the wind is calm and
the sun is shining it's a wonderful sight to see coveys
of grouse as when startled they skim low over the
curves of the high moorlands. At that time of year it's a very
special experience to see and smell the heather when it's in full bloom and to hear the whirring of the wings of the
grouse
when in rapid succession they call to each other, go-back, go-back,
go-back,
go-back. The red grouse has the distinction of being the only
bird that is exclusively British and primarily Scottish. On that spring day afternoon as I was thinking of turning
around to head back I was approached by a girl of about my own age, the only person I'd seen all day. She just
appeared from nowhere. She came towards me and looked me
straight in the eye. Without the glimmer of a smile she was the
first to speak and in a very English and authoritative voice she asked, “Ah you away
ah that you ah on Fingaaask ?" It was obvious that she
was oblivious as to the difference between Scottish and English law
as to a walker's right of passageway over land. I think she thought I was a
poacher so I responded in my best Scottish brogue, “No, but I think
you may be on Bandirrrrrrran---not that it matterrrs." We both let down our guards as
laughter prevailed and the ice
was broken. (People who are natives of the land to the south of
the Scottish border draw out the letter "a" and don't burr the
letter "R" like persons from further to the north
do.) She said that once a year in the spring she came north to visit her
relatives at Fingask. The purpose of her visit was to see her
special place high in the heather hills that was a moorland marsh.
In the springtime her marsh was home to hundreds of black headed gulls, ducks and snipe.
She volunteered, ”I’ll show it to you but you must tell no one that
you know of it." I promised not to tell. When we got to her place we
took off our shoes and waded amongst the nesting birds. What an
experience that was. I was sorry when she had to leave and head homewards.
I later found out that where we met I was on Fingask---not that it
mattered. One other day near this place that I called the seagull
pond, I found a shattered wooden propeller that must have come off a
Tiger Moth trainer. Nearby on the ground was all the evidence of a
crash site but no sign of the airplane which no doubt had been
carted away. Not very far away was Scone airport which at that time
was in use as a wartime training airfield.
My brother Noel
and I were very fortunate in that Monty took us along with him on
day and sometimes week long trips where we camped out in the
spotlessly clean but unoccupied old mansion house. (in the years
before the gardeners cottage was added on to) While there we
hiked over the hills and the moors and hunted and fished to our heart’s
content. What glorious days these were. Monty told Noel and I to
come to Bandirran and to use the house and the estate just like we
owned the place, any time we wanted to, even when he wasn’t there
which we did on many occasions. The estate of Bandirran
abounds in a
wealth of game animals such as rabbits, hare and some deer. The game
birds are wood pigeons, partridge, pheasant, woodcock, blackcock,
grouse, mallard and other ducks, snipe, geese and a few capercaillie. In the winter time when the snow was on the ground, great
flocks of geese descended on to the harvested stubble fields.
Sometimes late summer winds and rains flattened the grain in the
fields to make it difficult to harvest. When this happened it was
just left for the geese to feed on. At other times the farmers of the fields
just left several acres unharvested for the geese. In such fields I used to make
a blind out of corn stooks in which I would conceal myself just as it was
beginning to get dark when the geese would descend in their hundreds
to within inches of me. The more or less triangular shaped pond by the gardener’s cottage and the
two hillside burns that fed it was home to numerous speckled brook trout. Unlike the
burns that were great places to dangle a worm in the deeper of the pools, the pond
by the house was a great place to fly fish. My fly of choice was a
Malloch tied Greenwell's Glory in an either wet or dry fly pattern. In the winter time the
pond would freeze over with clear black ice and it was a great place to skate. There were
occasions when we put Aladdin lamps out on to the frozen pond and
we skated till
almost midnight. A favourite ploy was to go clockwise clear around
the edge of the pond on the skate outside edges in a series of
semi-circles, like a sine wave, then when the black ice was
thoroughly marked up to turn and go counter clockwise to complete a
chain of continuous circles.
Added-on-to gardener's cottage.
My
brother John designed and built the lapstrake copper rivet and rove
fastened boat from Bandirran milled lumber. I was John's helper to buck the
copper rivets.
In the
winter time when the burn ran full there was enough water to rotate
the water wheel that powered the estate saw mill. (At that time the
Head Forester's last name was Ferguson but I have forgotten his first
name.)
Monty
and I working together laid the masonry that surrounds the two windows
of the lower level
living room.
As Bandirran mansion
house was way too big to be kept staffed for only the occasional
visitor, Monty got the great idea of adding on a living room and
bedroom extension wing to the gardener’s home by the pond. This was
highly successful. Part of the original gardener’s cottage house was
combined with the new addition which became the dining room and an
upstairs bedroom. The overall result was that instead of being only
the gardeners cottage there were now two separate but connected
homes. All of
the downstairs addition became a great south facing living room that
overlooked the pond. The upstairs, over the new addition, became two new bedrooms and a
bathroom to give the addition three in all bedrooms upstairs. The
cottage had no electricity but what a snug, cozy house it was when
Aladdin mantle lamps and a big flickering wood fire were lit in the
evenings and the rooks and the knights were set up on the chess
board. At the time of the make-over Monty had the kitchen of the
gardener and his wife’s part of the original house completely remodeled and a wonderful
new AGA heating and cooking stove was added. The gardener became the caretaker of all
and his wife became Monty’s cook and housekeeper. It was a great
arrangement.
1937.
Yews made an arched central focal viewpoint in Bandirran's garden.
Beyond the arch is the west door-in-the-wall entrance to the garden.
I
took this photo with a very old but still functional Kodak bellows
camera.
Shortly after
the remodel of the cottage the pond to the front that over the years had
become silted up was drained and dredged. In a way I was sorry
to see this happen. The material that silted up the pond was mostly
leaf material that over the years had washed down the burn. By
slightly agitating the ooze layer I successfully collected marsh gas
(methane) that I did manage to ignite. I had visions that with
sufficient ingenuity the entire house could have been lit and maybe even
heated by the collected fuel. To prevent future silting we
decided that a bypass burn could be created by the making of a burn
diverting sluice gate that would be operated when at times of heavy
water flow the burn ran full. The engineering of
the bypass sluice and the diversion of the burn became my project. My
method of finding the take off point for the new watercourse of the bypass was to go
upstream where, with a stick, I made a scratch on the ground alongside of the
flowing water. The bypass watercourse would have to flow
through the woods that were above the level of the pond so it was
essential to maintain as much elevation for the new bypass burn as
possible. If a lot of water flowed into my scratch
then my scratch was heading too much downhill and if no water flowed into my
scratch then my scratch was going too much uphill. A primitive
method but highly functional, even better than using an expensive theodolite transit level. While the pond was drained I oversaw the
installation of the new draw-down pipe line, the "Ismailia"
(no hinge pin) penstock drain valve and the connecting chain to the lever operated
valve opening mechanism. Since I was also the overseer of the
machining of this valve, which was the first one to be made at Fenco,
I got the honor of closing the valve to fill the
pond.
My brother
Noel
and I treasured Monty’s companionship and it was obvious that Monty
valued our youthful exuberance for him and his Perthshire, Bandirran
property. (and Pittarthie
in Fife) Bandirran House comprised three stories above ground level and one
complete basement level, which when the house was occupied was the
domain of the household staff.
There were
several things that intrigued me about Bandirran House.
On the second floor above ground level if you counted the windows of
the house on the outside then went inside to do the same thing there
was one less window on the inside. A room of the house was sealed off such that,
from the inside, it’s existence was undetectable. I often wondered
as to what was it that was hidden there? Maybe the Stone of
Destiny. Also in addition
to the grand stairway that went from the foyer to the upper levels,
there was an internal stairway that the staff used that allowed them
to freely come and go from the basement level to the top level
without being seen.
Below ground in
the basement, near the south-east corner of the house and also
completely undetectable was what looked like a cupboard door. Far
from being a cupboard door Monty showed us that it was the secret
entrance to an escape tunnel that exited some hundred or more yards away
in a tree and brush covered dell. At the dell the exit of the tunnel
was completely camouflaged such that it’s existence was
undetectable. The tunnel shaft was about five feet high and three
feet wide and was completely constructed of heavy stone. The roof
was arched and the floor was V shaped such that the center provided
a drainage channel for seeping ground water. Twice in my years of
visiting Bandirran I traversed the tunnel from the house to the
dell. Spaced along the tunnel were two ventilating shafts to the
surface that let in a tiny amount of light. To traverse the length of
the tunnel was quite an experience.
Bandirran House
had the legend of a ghostly visitation. As Monty told it to me, each
time one of the Moncrieffs died, a hearse with a team of horses was
heard to clomp and clatter up the curving driveway to the front door of the
house, stop for a period of time then turn around and drive away
till all was again quiet. Supposedly this phenomenon had happened
each time after a member of the Moncrieff family had died.
In Monty’s later
years he suffered several mild heart attacks, twice at Bandirran
when I was with him, for which he
carried pain killing nitro-glycerin tablets or as he called them his
dynamite pills. During the last three years of his life his doctors
advised him to spend his winters in a warm sunny climate. His place
of choice was the Portuguese island of Madeira where he lived in the Reid Hotel
in the town of Funchal. (On the island he owned a winery) While he
was at the Reid he kept in touch by infrequent
postcards except for the last year. Since I had not heard from him
for several months I went to his Elie home, Seaforth, to ask his two
house keeper sisters if they had heard from him. When they answered my
knock on the door it was obvious that they had been crying.
Without a word being spoken a telegram was handed to me to
read which was to inform his housekeepers that Monty had died
and that he would not be coming back.
______________________
(10-22-17 Memory jog
as the result of watching the TV show 60 Minutes about the auction
value of fine and rare wines
:
One year in the late 1940's shortly after Monty returned from
a wintering in Madeira a large wooden box was delivered to him at his Seaforth,
Elie home that contained a shipment of bottles of wine that were labeled for delivery from
his Madeira winery to the Czar of Russia that Monty said had not
been shipped due to them being "overage". From the dust on the
bottles Monty said that they had been stored in a wine cellar for
many years. Monty had me do the opening of the crate and one
of the bottles that we might sample the vintage
after which all that I could
say was that the gold labels on the bottles were mighty impressive
and elegant but the vintage was past its prime.)
_______________________
The next day
after learning about this totally unexpected and devastating news an
overpowering force compelled me to go to Bandirran. When there
and for the
first time in my life I felt an ominous sense of foreboding and loneliness.
Knowing where a key to the house was hidden I entered the big house
then locked myself in. The silence was total. I went into the oak
paneled library which was a large room. The ceiling of the
library was also oak paneled and was completely covered with
carved Moncrieff coats of arms that traced the lineage of the
family over the centuries. As I stood there in my grief as to the
loss of my friend my hair raised up as I heard the rumble of wheels
and other loud noises on the driveway. The sounds came nearer then
stopped. I heard voices and a rattling of the front door. The empty
house echoed. (After all these 65 years ago I can still hear these sounds and echoes.) Others had arrived for some reason.
For what? Maybe to hunt for the true Stone of Destiny that rumour
had it was concealed for safe keeping within the confines of
Bandirran House. Unoccupied and far from view, Bandirran House
would certainly have been the perfect place to hide the Stone.
Why and for what were men,
without a key, shaking the front door and trying to enter the house. The
big house had stood empty since the military vacated the property at the end of
World War II. I felt an oppressive weight
descending on me and I fled to the basement to where was the
entrance to the escape tunnel. By now I was in a cold sweat and my
heart was thumping. I opened the entrance door to the tunnel,
climbed into it, ducked my head and made a hasty exit for the other end
of the tunnel that exited into the dell. The exit was
completely covered over in brush and thorny bramble-like vines and I
had to push my way through which caused me to get thoroughly
scratched and bloodied up in the process. In a blind run I fled
through the trees and the heavy brush till I came to a clearing in
the woods where there was a downed log that I sat on to get my
breath back. As I looked up at the puffy white clouds in the blue
sky I was looking at the trunk of a tree on which was nailed a
wooden crucifix. In that moment I was transfixed. I felt as if
Monty had come home. As I gazed in amazement at the cross, the
weight that was pressing on me lifted and a voice seemed to say,
“Dry your tears, I’m all right.” To this day I still wonder if Monty
had nailed that
cross to this tree as a marker to indicate something?
"But now farewell for I am going a long way,
to the island valley of Avilion
where
falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
nor
ever wind blows loudly;
but it lies
deep-meadowed
happy,
fair with orchard lawns and bowery hollows
crowned
with summer sea,
Where
I will heal me of my grevious wound."
.
The
foliage of the
place that I stopped at showed no sign that anyone had visited
the place in years yet the wood that comprised the cross was
unweathered and looked recent. How did that crucifix come to be nailed up on that tree ? Did
Monty have a premonition that he would not be returning and he put
the cross there before he left for me to find ? Why did I find it at this time ? To this day I still wonder.
Several years
later I made one of
my compelled-to-return visits from the USA to Earlsferry. In short time I went to
Bandirran to once more wander it’s hills, retrace my steps and
live in the past as I remembered my dear friend and the many happy times
that over the years that I had spent there
with him.
When I got to
Bandirran, the historic mansion home of the Moncrieffs of
that Ilk had been totally removed
and someone else's family crest was fastened on to what had been Monty's little house
by the fish pond.
Bandirran Mansion ~ Gone but not forgotten
The square stone inset above the library
windows, which now reposes in the churchyard at Abernethy in
Perthshire, is the Moncrieff coat of arms.
The
basement escape tunnel was below and right behind this yew.
I should know but I never heard where and how Monty died or
anything at all about this happening. I just know that I took him
from his home in Elie to get on the Aberdeen to London overnight
train at Kirkcaldy and I brought his car back to Elie. I'm sure I was the
last person in Scotland who knew him to see him alive. From
Kirkcaldy he went to Southampton where he got on a ship to the
Portuguese island of Madeira. On his return I was to pick him up but
he never came back. Taking him to Kirkcaldy was the last time that I
was to see him and the only information that I ever gleaned that he
was not coming back was what was said in the brief message telegram
that someone sent to his housekeepers. Monty just vanished out of
my life and for me a beautiful and a wonderful era came to an
unexpected and an abrupt ending. As you may
conclude from this writing I've had no closure as to Monty who
despite our difference in age of 48 years, was and still is such a part of
my life. It has now been 68 years since I last saw him but not a day passes that I do not think of him.
On
a Moncrieff family stone tablet in the churchyard at Abernethy in
Perthshire, Scotland, someone has had it recorded that the date of
his death is the 31st of January 1950. He was born on the 23rd of
August 1878.
I feel sure that the Monty that
I knew "came home" but I
never learned as to whether his body ever did.
I'll always remember him as a very special person.
"And on the mere the wailing died away."
Update 4th August
2010.
I still have no information whatsoever as to how
Monty died but today an email has let me know that the place of burial of my
friend Gerard Alexander Moncrieff, (Monty), is in the
English cemetery on the island of Madeira.
Update November 20th. 2011
Today, (61 years after Monty's death), a friend in England
sent me this photo that was sent to him from a helpful deacon of the
Church of England in Madeira of an unkempt and sunken plot of
ground that is marked by the code letters 20NCC which is wherein the
deacon states that Gerard Alexander Moncrieff was buried on the island
of Madeira.
?
This beautiful old classical
Scottish house in a setting of numerous large rhododendrons was Monty's ancestral home.
Note the square stone inset of
the Moncrieff family crest that is above the two windows at the right hand
lower corner.
Photo courtesy David
Robertson
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