In Ayrshire stands the oldest surviving railroad viaduct in Scotland, the Laigh Milton. Built in 1812 it spans the river Irvine where it services a major portion of the southwestern corner of the country, providing the life sustaining blood and muscle of industry. Carved in the tired sandstone arches among the morter and the grit is the tracings of a story that caught my eye.
On July the twelfth, 1867 trouble began between two local clans, the Boyds of Kilmarnock and the Stewarts of Darnley. Brew and pride combined to fuel a hot fire of hatred that stemmed from long forgotten trespasses against long forgotten fathers.
Many of the locals found themselves taking sides for various reasons ranging from business interests, to the simple love of a brawl. One of those prescribing to the later was a young hot head by the name of Annick Water. Annick never turned down a fight, ever. It was rumored that he once walked thirteen miles with one shoe on for the chance to bash in the head of the man who hid the other.
And so, you can imagine his reaction when word reached him; as he sat at his dinner table with his beautiful wife Agnes and his two year old son Annick Jr, that the Boyds and Stewarts were at it again. This time they were going to settle things once and for all. You can also imagine the pleading reaction of Agnes who feared for her husband; whom she loved despite his irresponsible tendencies.
Ignoring the plea's of his wife and his child, Annick grabbed his rifle and his coat and ran out into the rain.
In nature there are irrevocable uncertainties, or as Bilbo Baggins put it, "It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to". And so it was on this night that two things occured which couldn't have been foreseen, but should have been considered.
Firstly, when Annick arrived at the tavern he found the confrontation teetering on the brink of hystaria, with chests heaving and man screaming at man. He quickly joined with the Boyds who seemed to be out numbered, and being one of the few sober men present, he found himself hoisted to a position of leadership.
Laying all caution aside he waded in to the muck of hate and fear surrounding him, swaggered up to the eldest of the Stewart boys, and greeted him with the best of his right hook.
The consequences were immediate.
The second unfortunate happening came as a result of the first. As the fight wore on, one of the younger Stewart's decided he would teach Annick a lesson for meddling in his families affairs. And so, with two of his cousins at his side he rode off in the direction of Agnes and Annick Jr.
Agnes heard the horses ride up, and immediately assumed the worse. With a hand to her mouth she started to open the door at the same time the three came bursting in, throwing her to the floor, and knocking her unconscious.
She was aroused a moment later to the sound of glass breaking and Annick Jr crying out for her. Immediately she was on her feet wrapping her arms around him as she ran out into the cold night air, leaving the house in the hands of the three intruders.
Local lore tells that Agnes stumbled through the night with little Annick Jr in her arms until she came upon the river Irvine, swollen with rain. As she crossed the viduct she lost her footing, sending Annick into the rushing water below. Without a moments thought she plunged head first into the chilly water in an effort to save her pleading child. But the water was swift, deep, and unforgiving. Both succumbed.
Some time later Annick returned home, as he rounded the final bend and saw the state that his house was in his heart stopped beating. Panic rose in his throat and a million thoughts, questions, and conclusions collided in his psyche.
Where was Agnes? Annick? Who had done this? How do I find them? Where do I look? Why did I leave them?
A quick search of the house revealed what his heart refused to accept, that his family was no where to be seen. For the first time in his life, Annick felt the full throws of fear as he realized what his actions from earlier may have cost him.
Praying that his wife and child had managed to escape; he felt certain that she would head in the direction of town. The shortest route from their home meant following the railroad tracks. And so he followed them, calling their names at the top of his grief stricken lungs until he came to the Laigh Milton, where he happened to glance to his right and see something that took the wind completely out of his lungs, and for the second time that night, stopped his heart cold. There on the bank, partially submerged in the water, rested one of his wife's shoes.
It was Jay Bee who wrote, "Twice the man rose, in anger and haste. Twice the man fell landing flat on his face. The haughtier the man, the greater the fall. Each time learning little, til he had lost it all".
And so it was with Annick on that dreadful day, his world that was built on his pride and his hate came crashing down leaving him equally broken and equally lost.
But that isn't the worst part of the story. You see, for years he searched the banks of the river hoping to find the bodies of his loved ones and each day he would return to the viaduct to rest. He stopped shaving and showering, and he only ate the lichens and the moss off the stones, an occasional fish and whatever else he could find as he walked and walked. When his friends and his family would try to comfort him he would lash out at them and turn them away, until eventually he was alone with only his guilt, angusih and self pity.
He never left the Laigh Milton. Instead he took up refuge under its arches growing weaker, thinner, and more wild until the locals took to calling him a troll. No one knows when he died, some swear he never did, they claim he just sat down one day and never got up. Allowing the moss and the vines to grow over him he eventually became part of the viaduct itself. Others think he just curled up somewhere and stopped living.
So where is the moral? Why am I telling you about Annick and his wasted life? It is true, if he had stayed home that night, things would have been different. If he had learned to value peace and harmony more than anger, and adrenaline this never would have happened. If, If, If.... But that isn't the point.
Only a half mile to the east of the Leigh Milton there is Maria's spring, and to the west, about the same distance, bubbles Monks Well. For centuries people have pilgrimaged to their waters to be healed of a variety of maladies and hurts. Regardless of what lead them there, all walked away whole.
The point is that Annick's pain, his hurt, his regret was never so deep, so rare, so painful, that a simple walk in either direction wouldn't have taken it all away. For all the walking that he did, he never walked in the right direction, nor to the right location.
The point is, in life when we find ourselves battered and bruised, don't be an Annick. When you find yourself in need of healing make sure you walk in the right direction and to the right location and don't stop until you reach it.
Just thought I would pass it along....
