I've just come back from my walk. It's cold outside and there are not many people walking. One middle-aged couple were on the other side of the road walking witjh a little boy I assumed was their grand-child. "Why doies that man have a stick?" he yelled, referring, obviously to my cromach which I've taken to using on all my walks. I have a more ordinary stick but the cromach has a particular air about it. You don't see many cromachs in Longford. I hoped they might ask me about it when they crossed to my side of the street but they just went on their way.
I was given my cromach by my Uncle Archie many years ago. He told me it was made by his cousin, Bill Henderson who was a farmer on the island of Arran off Scotland's west coast. It's traditional for the islanders to make cromachs during the long winter nights. The shaft of the stick is from a rowan tree and the crook is made from antler shed by one of the deer which roam the islands.
Recently, I saw a snippet on TV showing King Charles wandering around Balmoral Estate in Scotland and he was carrying a crook which might have been the twin of mine. He was also wearing a kilt but I'm not brave enough to add that to my walking wardrobe yet. If I did, it would certainly give the locals something to talk about.
THE OTHER JOHN CHRISTIES May
15, 2020
They say that no good will come of googling yourself but it
occurred to me that googling my name would throw up other people who share the
same combination of twelve letters and it might be interesting to see what
other people with that same name have made of their lives.
John Christie is not a particularly unusual name. In my own family, there is at least one John
Christie in every one of the last ten generations I’ve managed to uncover in my
genealogy research but I don’t expect to find any of my forebears on Google. But John is still one of the most common
Christian names and there are enough Christies in Scotland to warrant the
family having its own tartan and it is likely that some of them must have made
some kind of mark on society.
I hope to find that there are John Christies who are famous
scientists, doctors, and musicians and I know that one namesake founded the
Glyndebourne Festival in England, but the first John Christie Google chooses to
list is John Reginald Christie, the notorious murderer. They made a movie about
him in which he was played by Richard Attenborough and books have been written
about him. Years ago I was stopped by a
policeman in Hobart for some trivial driving offence and, when he looked at my
licence, he commented, “I’ve just been reading about you.” Well, not me, of course, but he clearly had a
professional interest in my namesake.
John Reginald was a sad character who killed at least 8
women between 1943 and 1952 in England and he was so notorious the local
authorities destroyed the house and changed the name of the street where the
murders took place in an attempt to erase memories of the outrage. Of the many books written about him, the most sensational is
entitled ‘The Rillington Place Strangler’.
The next of my namesakes suggested by Google has had a book
written about him too. It’s entitled
‘Damn You, John Christie!’ and it’s the story of John Mitchell Christie, who,
in 1866, joined the Melbourne detective force which was then said to consist of
well-educated men of standing. Later he was described as a 'well-groomed,
refined-looking, walking embodiment of good taste', but he was also seen in a
less favourable light as one who grew rich on his share of fines.
John Mitchell was a master of disguise who was variously a
travelling tinker, a street-sweeper, a clergyman, but most often a 'gentleman'.
The highlights of his career, however, were when he 'shadowed' visiting
royalty; in 1867 he travelled throughout Australia and New Zealand with the
Duke of Edinburgh; in 1881 he accompanied Princes Albert and George, and in
1901 acted as bodyguard to the Duke and Duchess of York when they visited
Australia to open the first Australian Parliament.
A good athlete, Christie became well known in boxing and
rowing circles throughout Australia. He
resigned from the detective force in 1875 to devote more time to sport although
he did then join the Customs Service, spending a great deal of energy trying to
close down illicit stills which were rife at the time. It may have also been a good career move to
give him better opportunities to put something aside for his retirement.
I wonder, in fifty years’ time, when people Google the name
John Christie, will the names of the notorious criminal and the notorious
policeman still appear at the top of the list of results, or will some other
worthy namesake take their place?