EPISODE 133 SKEOCH WOOD (ROTHSEY, ISLE OF BUTE, SCOTLAND)

EPISODE 133    SKEOCH WOOD, (ISLE of Bute, Scotland)


SKEOCH WOOD … north side of  ROTHESY, ISLE  OF BUTE, SCOTLAND


SKEOCH  WOOD
SKEOCH WOOD, CIRCA 1900
alan skeoch
Oct. 2020

“Can I help you, lad?”
“Yes, do you have an empty prison cell?”
“Why, son…looking for a place to sleep?”
“Yes.”
“No need to sleep in jail…let me see what I can find.”

It was early September, 1960, and  I had just got off the Scottish  ferry to Rothesay on the
Isle of Bute.  My money was almost gone but I dearly wanted to see the Skeoch Wood, a
forest on the northern edge of the holiday town of Rothsey.  Somewhere I had  read
that local police stations could provide emergency  shelter.  

Just getting to Rothsey was a shot in the dark as the expression  goes.  My job doing a mining
geophysical survey  on the south coast of  Ireland was over and I was  slowly making my way
to Prestwick Airport for the flight home to Canada.  This  was a grand  adventure for a 22 year
old Canadian so I tried  to cram in as much family history as possible.  Mom told me she
found the Skeoch Wood  on an old post cart.  

Was this forest connected  in any way with our family name?  I thought so.  But how do I
interview a tree?   Actually I felt lost when I found the Skeoch Wood.  It was not the forest
I expected. 

“Got a place for you … just down the street, very reasonable
bed and breakfast.  Better than a jail cell.”

“Too bad about the forest…One hundred years ago you could get lost…could
hide in there.”
“What happened?”
 “Two World Wars and  The Great Depression… removed a lot of trees.”

And no one  I spoke  to Knew anything about the name Skeoch.  Someone must know but
I had no luck.  Rather a disappointment but the Skeoch Wood was a kind of
namesake.  Maybe  Skeoch is both a place name…and a family name.  The best 
meaning I got for the name was Geilic for “Hawthorne” or that a Skeoch was “a hawthorne
branch thrown across a field opening as a gate.  Who knows if that is true. Does relate to
trees though. So I left
Rothsay, caught a bus to Prestwick and flew home to Toronto.  End of story.

Well not quite.  By pure chance in 1998 I came across THE TENTERS OF BUTE, an article
written by Jenny Chaplin in The Scots  Magazine (Vol. 148, N.1, January 1998).  It was
the subheading that caught my eye:



“SKEOCH WOOD was  home to hundreds of  men, women and  children who, through
no fault of their own, had no roof over their heads.”

Rothesay once had  four large cotton mills that employed a lot of workers…perhaps hundreds.
Cotton processing boomed in Rothesay until 1835 when the market collapsed and all the
workers were suddenly unemployed.   There was  no safety net.  The workers could not pay
rent … could barely feed themselves and stooped to stealing turnips and whatever else was
near at hand.   So, from 1835 until the  1920’s,  nearly a century, these industrial workers
and their children retreated into the Skeoch Wood.  Hidden.  They became known as
the Tenters of Bute because they lived in makeshift tents and hovels.  No running water, 
no toilets.   The  Skeoch Wood became  a desperate  place.

“The trek to the Skeoch  Wood had begun (in 1835). And throughout the  1800’s and
on into the early  years of  1900, the Skeoch Wood was home to hundreds of men, women
and children who, through no fault of their own, had no roof over their heads.”  (Jenny Chaplin)

It might be expected that the occasional visitor to Rothesay, as I was in 1960, might take
a nap in the Skeoch Wood to save a bit of money.  But it must have been startling to stroll 
through the Skeoch  Wood in 1835 or 1855 or 1895 and find hundreds of poverty stricken
families sleeping … living …deep in the forest.  

They were not even allowed to beg unless the had a “Begger’s Badge”…only 26 such
badges were issued.

One elderly woman walked barefoot (I assume) to the Rothesay police station in hope
of getting  shoes. When she  admitted she  was 69 rather than  70 she  was sent away
“with tears streaming down  her face.”

THE police in Rothsey turned this old lady away when she  needed shoes badly.
The  police  in Rothsey, in 1960, found me a plae to sleep  other than a jail cell.
These  stories just do not fit well.




Selling cockles and whelks earned a little money but when  too many tried to sell
this low level  food they were rounded up and moved away from town.  Rag picking
was another way to try to make a living. 

Some  Local residents of  Rothesay referred to the Tenters as “The dregs of humanity”…and
that was in 1899 when they were offered a trip to the poorhouse in Greenock which
they refused.  Better to live  in a rag tent in the Skeoch Wood than enter a British
Poor House.  Earlier, in 1878, The Society For  Assisting Poor Wives in Their Time
of Need …that was the full name, imagine that…the  assistance was to “Lend”
a bagful of clothing for one  month.  Lend.  not Give.

Sympathy was felt by some…rejection by others…all focused on the Skeoch Wood.

 1885, a Plea for the Poor:

   “Hard times are at our door…
   We never saw before
  Such deep distress through poverty
  As many do deplore.”

When  did it end?  When were the Tenters of Skeoch Wood dispersed?  There was
no specific time.  They disappeared in dribs and  grabs.  A  goodly number left
in the immigrant boats heading to South Africa, Australia, Canada, etc.  How  
could they afford to do so?   Local people held bazaars, antique and  collectable sales
as they do today.  It was in the interest of Rothesay to do so.  Rothesay had become
a tourists town.  Tourists liked to stroll through the Skeoch Wood I imagine.

The police officer that I met in 1960 must have been amused.  Maybe, later,
afer he had  found me a room rather than a jail cell, he had a pint with
friends in a Rothsey Pub and  said.

“Guess who asked to be  put in jail today?”
“Who?”
“One of the original Skeoch’s from the Skeoch Wood.  A kid.
He did not even have a tent.”

alan skeoch
October 2020


P.S.. In time,  Some of the marbles began to fit.  Take the LITTLE SKEOCH MOTOR CAR
of which less than five were built before the factory burned to the ground in
the 1920’s.  Some car buffs in Scotland are rebuilding that car.  Then there
is the question of  St. Skeoch.  Who was he…she?  A mystery that still
remains.  How could  we be offspring of saints?  Wait a second, saints do not
have to be celibate do they?



Skeoch is a rather odd surname.  Then again
there are many odd surnames of people around the world.
So , being odd, is noting special today.  But back in 1960 when I was  much younger I had the chance
to look into ur family name…to maybe confirm or reject the legends that circulated through the family.

THE LAST WORD

Keep this final note secret between you and me.  Some veterans of World War II told  me
the Skeoch Wood was a great place for lovemaking.  I have no idea if  that is true.

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