Cornwall
Dates: 24th – 26th April and 26th – 28th June 2023
Genealogical-related research work in Falmouth and Flushing to find out more about an ancestor and his family. John Loudon McAdam (23 September 1756 – 26 November 1836) was the Scottish civil engineer and road builder who invented a new process, “macadamisation”.
Diary notes
That first trip to Falmouth was random. It could have been a complete disaster. I had no address and didn’t know where the McAdam family had lived. Yet, by chance, I was led to the Falmouth History Society based at the Poly in the High Street. In time, they would direct me to the right place.
*
It was hot that afternoon, as I stood looking down a long, curved drive towards an attractive Georgian farmhouse. To my right was a distant view of the sea and a small cemetery lay just down the road and half-way up a steep hill. I had already surveyed Mylor harbour and in my mind’s eye visualised children happily playing there.
Whilst I stood entranced with this vision of wonder in front of me, a farmer stopped his tractor to inquire politely in a Cornish brogue. ‘I see you taking photographs?’
I looked up as he swivelled in his hydraulic seat to engage. ‘Is this your land? This is where my ancestor lived, John Tar MacAdam. He rented the house between 1798 to 1802. Lived here with his family, an American wife and their children.’ My explanation seemed to settle his curiosity.
I didn’t say so at the time, but it was his daughter George or Georgina Keith McAdam who had encouraged me to drive the four hours from Somerset. Not her famous father. Neither did I tell him how odd I found it that his tractor had long, steel hay forks as at the age of seven George fell asleep in a hay field and contracted rheumatic fever. Not this field but presumably one close to her father’s estate, Sauchrie near Ayr in Scotland. The illness left her with deafness.
The farmer was friendly. ‘I lease the land’. He told me the property was purchased ‘two years back’ and about the previous owner. There was a tone of respect in his voice. ‘He kept it in good order.’ He spoke again as he left. ‘I’ll mention your ancestor lived here where I’m next down at the big house.’
As those huge black tyres turned down towards the cemetery, I glimpsed the sea. A shimmering blue against the yellow of the harvested hay field. In my mind’s eye was a vision of George with wild hair, the wind on her face in her silent world.
