A life in letters: Jackson, Archibald (1895-1974)

Archibald Jackson on his retirement

My maternal grandfather. Archibald Jackson was born on 29th April 1895 at 1.30am at 39, Kildonan Street, Coatbridge the second child and eldest son William Jackson and Helen Rodger Jackson.

Archibald married my grandmother Jeanie Marshall Anderson on 7th June 1922, when he was employed as a ‘foreman engineer, fitter,’ and living at 418 Dundyvan Road, Coatbridge.  He and Jeanie were married after proclamation of banns according to the forms of the United Free Church of Scotland by the Revd Adam Maxwell of the East U.F. Church Airdrie and the Revd Thomas George Ogilvie of Ebenezer Congregational Church, Airdrie. The wedding took place at Annieslea, Carlisle Road, Airdrie with William Jackson, Archibald’s younger brother, serving as witness and, presumably, best man.

For almost their entire married life, Archibald and Jeanie lived at 172b Clark Street, Airdrie in one of the flats built by Jeanie’s father. It appears that they moved in a few months after their wedding, towards the end of 1922. On the 30th October that year my grandfather then living at Springwell Terrace, Airdrie bought furniture from the Glasgow Cross Warehouse of ‘The Co-operative Drapery & Furnishing Society Ltd.’

The range of his purchases suggests that he was reasonably affluent:

1 Mahogany Chesterfield Suite (7 pieces)    £42 10s 0d

1 5-foot Mahogany Sideboard    £35 0s 0d

1 Mahogany Table    £4 10s 0d

1 Display Cabinet £12 10s 0d

1 Oak Hallstand £3 15s 0d

4 Brentwood Chairs £4 14s 0d

1 4-foot Chiffonier (a miniature sideboard) £14 5s 0d

1 Divan Chair £6 15s 0d

1 Morris Chair £4 15s 0d

1 4-foot Oak Bedroom Suite £42 10s 0d (Did the ‘4-foot’ refer to a dressing table?)

This totalled £171 4s 0d before a 10% discount was applied. I can remember this furniture as a child in the 1950s when it already seemed impossibly old.  I can remember my grandpa hanging up his outdoor gear on the hallstand with the old pun on Mahatma Ghandi’s first name.

My grandparents had two daughters – my mother Helen, born in 1923 and her sister Jean who arrived six years later. A son was still-born in the mid-twenties and it seems to have been a regret to Archibald that they didn’t have a boy. My Aunt Jean remembers him telling her wistfully, and none-too-wisely the things he would have bought her had she been a boy.

Jean’s recollection is that 172b Clark Street was not a place of acceptance and warm, unconditional love. My mother delivered academic and musical achievements, but it’s unclear whether she was always driven to achieve more. For Jean, to whom academic achievements were just one strand of live and fun was important, childhood was difficult. The girls’ mother was, by all accounts cold, and Archibald tended to comply with her wishes rather than standing up to her to create a gentler environment for the girls.

For most, if not all of his working live Archibald was employed by Murray and Paterson, a heavy engineering firm in Whifflet near Coatbridge.  He was a gifted engineer, who studied intensively in evening classes in his early years, and by the time of his retirement was Engineer Manager at the firm.  During the war, Murray and Paterson manufactured parts for the Mulberry Harbours for the D-day landings – my grandfather, according to my Uncle Ian was one of the few to be in on the secret of what the parts they were producing would be used for.

I remember as a boy being taken to visit my grandfather at Murray and Paterson, and being not at all daunted by the great, echoing machine shop.

Apart from work, church and the home the only other interest Archibald seemed to have was attending the Airdrie football teams matches – I remember we used to time our Saturday visits to Clark Street so that he would be back from the game. I sensed my parents’ disapproval of attending football – while it might be something that you would expect of an ‘unregenerate’ person, Christians should never be found at the stadium.

My mother was always keen to detect in her father anything she could take as a sign of living, as opposed to formal faith, and I think she grew convinced that from her perspective, football matches or not, grandpa was the genuine article.

For many years my grandfather served as a church elder – he received a long-service certificate from the church when the Revd W. Roy Sanderson was Moderator of the Church of Scotland in 1967-68. Archibald had served as deacon and elder for 46 years, at Maxwell Church, Coatbridge, and Jackson and Flowerhill Churches in Airdrie. He must have been appointed to his first position in around 1921 – immediately prior to his marriage. My Uncle Ian assures me that my grandfather took his eldership and church work ‘very seriously.’

Of all my grandparents, Archibald Jackson was probably the one I knew best. We visited the Clark Street flat reasonably frequently when I was a child – I remember being taken one day to the window overlooking the Terminus to see a young Queen driving into Motherwell Street; I remember my grandpa running across to Notarianni’s café diagonally opposite (aka Snottery Annie’s)  and coming back with ice-creams, which he referred to as  ‘pokey hats.’

Once when I was about nine, my grandmother was in hospital – I presume in Glasgow - and Archibald came to stay with us at Maxwell Avenue for a few days, presumably for ease of visiting. I loved his company – I had not one but two Rolls Royce Dinky models, and using string and a robust empty Callard and Bowser chocolate box grandpa constructed an elevator to hoist the cars from the floor to the table top. I was always interested in engineering and discussed with him heroes like Isambard Kingdom Brunel.

When I was at University one of my parents’ wheezes was to ask me one year to invite a friend to attend the Strathpeffer Convention with us, and stay in the Holly Lodge Hotel in the town. I wasn’t comfortable with this, but nevertheless asked someone along, who later withdrew.  My parents then decided to invite grandpa, who was by then a widower, to come north with us and he shared with me the bedroom which had been booked. Again I enjoyed his company – we went to the very traditional Christian book shop in Dingwall and he very kindly bought me a pile of the very traditional books (but helpful) published by the Banner of Book Trust.

Between graduating from Glasgow University in June 1973, and beginning a library course a year later, I worked at Carluke Library and my recollection is that often over those months I visited grandpa on my fortnightly Wednesdays off, but perhaps these visits weren’t as many as I recall. But I’d knock on his door and be welcomed in, and after a bit he’d get on his jacket and his cap and we’d set off along the main street through Airdrie, talking of this and that, as he greeted the many local people he knew. We’d arrive at the Tudor Hotel where we’d have lunch, before walking back. I am so glad I had these times with him.

Archibald Jackson died on 16th April 1974. He’d set off briskly on foot after tea that night to visit a parishioner somewhere up the top end of Motherwell Street. When my grandpa reached their door, he was clearly unwell and they sent for the doctor, but it was too late. On the small envelope containing grandpa’s birth certificate, my father has scribbled ‘Constable McDonald’, presumably the policeman who was summoned to the house. Archibald had already booked his summer holiday for that year – there’s a mention in his will of the refund of a £10 receipt from the ‘Mackerton Hotel’ – presumably the Mackerston Hotel in Largs.

Archibald Jackson left an estate valued at £8492.85, including a picture of an Italian lake scene by an artist called Camprio which he had chosen as one of his retirement gifts, and which he left to me, his eldest grand-son.