On 5th May 1662 my Great x 11 grandfather was consecrated at Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh. Almost 400 years later I entered the inner courtyard, following in his footsteps, though without the consecration.
It is the strangest feeling. I bet he never gave a thought to me during the day of his highest honour…. yet here I am!
Holyrood has many surprises; huge tapestries, deep dark intricately-carved woodwork, and a gallery which appears to be royalty portraits… but read the fine print. The paintings were commissioned to a single artist who painted one a week for 3 years, covering folk from hundreds of years, using his imagination to guess what they may have looked like! It’s hard not to feel conned.
Another surprise was Mary, Queen of Scots. Her bed, though 4-poster, was absolutely tiny! My 8yo granddaughter would fit in it, but the lanky 10yo certainly wouldn’t. Regal portraits of the Queen don’t hint at such diminution.
The abbey at Holyrood is undergoing restoration, but on the walls are magnificent memorial plaques to ‘the most perfect’ mother, ‘the most generous wife’ and more. Clearly the grieving families were not paying by the word, as some wax lyrical to an extraordinary degree. But then, maybe they were trying to convince themselves, just as the painter’s work in the gallery showcases illusions.
My great x 11 grandfather had been outspoken in rejecting some Scottish church beliefs, seeking refuge in the English King’s London, but in order to progress found it within himself to perform a sermon in which he renounced his previous beliefs and thus rejoined the Scottish fold. ..and was thus rewarded.
Should I believe he saw the light, or were his actions simply an expedient way to meet his aspirations? Did he care how I may view him?
And how will history view us 400 years from now…
But does it really matter?
Stories for you - Enjoy! 
You are certainly finding more about your ancestors its fabulous Trish.
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