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Ripley
Genealogy Moschel
Genealogy
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Reflection
of William Munro Sr.
William Munro Sr. was sitting and gazing out the window. He could see the warehouses, the workmen's house, the forges, and beyond it was the harbour to the sea. When he looked behind and to the left, he could see the ruins of the 12th century Arbroath Abbey. It was a cold, windy, wet day; but it seemed warm enough in his room and it was an inferno in the furnace area of the foundry. Little did he know that this would end up being a special day, a day when he would review his entire 50 years. The day would take him from the stories his grandfather had told him of the Highlands to his own memories in living in Central Scotland at the small towns of St. Ninians, Carron, Lanark, Monkland, and Airdrie and finally to two coastal towns of St. Vigeans and Arbroath. His 50 years had provided quite a physical journey as well as emotional journey for him and his family. He was known locally in Arbroath as the iron master and founder and he felt he had earned any respect that label might give him. He had the weathered look of a man that had earned his living by making big things happen, not only with the toil of his hands, but the agility of his brain. He was a dreamer, but often his visions had come true, at least in the realm of his work. Had it only been five years since he started the foundry? It seemed like more because of the endless work that was involved. He started the foundry in 1813 the same year that William Jr. (everyone called him Willy) was born. The work of finding the iron ore, purchasing enough forest to have an ongoing supply of charcoal for burning the ore, constructing the furnace, hiring the workers, training them, building the rest of the necessary buildings, and then making and selling the iron products had consumed his time. He had become the man obsessed with making the foundry run. And why not spend all his time making the foundry run? It occupied his life, a diversion that he needed. His second wife, Suzanne, had died giving Willy life five years ago. William did not want to spend more time mourning yet another dead wife, the first time had been enough. His sons from his first marriage, Archibald and Robert, had been totally involved in making the iron foundry work. At 27 and 24 they provided the youthful vigor that he did not like to acknowledge was personally waning. He was sure that the foundry could provide a living for them and their families yet to be born. He was proud that he would see something of his live on in the next generation and maybe even more generations. He hoped that he could be remembered for this, even if he didn't think of it consciously. Willy was 5 now and didn't play much of a part in his life, except to remind him of Suzanne. His daughter, Euphemia, from his first marriage was 19. She was soon to make a life of her own and would not be available to take care of Willy as she had done for the last five years. Euphemia became a surrogate mother much too young, but what else was he to do? He would have to think about Willy's future--maybe the housekeeper for the workman's house would take over the care Euphemia had done or maybe Willy could move with Euphemia or... As he continued the gaze out the window, alternating between the harbour and Abbey view, he decided he would not think about that anymore. Willy seemed to be doing fine in Euphemia's care. Today he was much more contemplative about the past, rather than the present. Often in the last few months he found himself thinking about his parents and grandparents, a sign of getting old he thought. But as he aged, he felt closer and closer to those that had been dead for many years. He found these people in his daily life, in his thoughts and feelings, much like they were a part of it in reality. He wondered how his ancestors would think about him now. He was so far from anything that they would understand. In another way, though, running a foundry and being the ironmaster is not unlike being a clan chief. Of course, he never would have been clan chief in the Scottish Highlands of his ancestry, but then again, maybe he would have been a chieftain or least a tacksman. The stories told by his grandparents made him long for those days and times when they all lived together in the Highlands and were a part of one family, a very big family. Now he was nearly alone, or so it seemed, with his two older sons and a younger son and a daughter in a seacoast town of 5000 people in the Lowlands. How did he come to Arbroath which was so far away from all his ancestors knew and felt in the Highlands? He wondered what life would have been like if he had been a part of that Highland life instead of the central and coast Lowland life that had been dealt him. Maybe a Highland life would have been better. They would have felt like a family, a big family that helped each other through all the trials and joys of life. It was not that way for him now. He had been left alone to raise a first, and now a second family. His older sons seemed rougher than they need be, maybe because they had not been cared for by a mother at the needed times. And his daughter Euphemia desperately needed a mother. William felt so inadequate in helping her become a young woman. If he had still lived the Highland life, there would have been other women family members around to take the empty space of a wife and mother. Suzanne originally entered his life to take care of his children from the first marriage. Suzanne was a house-keeper/caretaker. In time it became more. He and Suzanne had married in 1811 and hoped for more children. And a child came in the name of Willy two years after they married, but then there was no Suzanne. He had to stop this thinking about Suzanne. Yes, think further back and remember what the Highlands were like. That would be a pleasant diversion until someone called him back to today and today's problems with the foundry.
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