Family history and local history are both very popular ways to study and write about the past. While many of us may have little interest in history in the abstract, so to speak, most of us have some curiosity about our family’s past and the evolution of the community in which we grew up.
Three recently published books reflect this type of story. The Ladder We Ascend by The Waldron Family is a classic family story. It tells the story of the matriarch, Margaret Waldron, born in 1899, and her many descendants. She wrote a short memoir in her late eighties that forms the prologue and spine of the book, which details the extraordinary achievements of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Perhaps best known from this high-achieving position is Margaret’s granddaughter, Cheryl Bowles, founder of the thriving family businesses Cher-Mère and The Herbarium Ltd. This book is an inspiring story of a successful African-Trinidadian family dominated by independent minded women.
An excellent example of local history, Growing up Woodbrook—A Tapestry of Once and Now by Dylan Kerrigan tells the story of “one square mile,” the suburb of Port of Spain, which has played an extraordinary role in social and cultural history of T&T. Kerrigan’s text is enriched by many lengthy interview quotes or written submissions from Woodbrook residents past and present, short biographies of people who were born and/or lived in the suburb, and wonderful photos of places, buildings and people of the district. Its publication is the result of a partnership between Woodbrook Residents’ Committee and the National Trust.
The third book, the subject of this review, is Via The Round About by Beverly Scobie. It successfully combines family and local history into a single narrative. First, it tells how Scobie, a lawyer originally from Sangre Grande who has lived in New York City for many years, tried to discover her family history, especially on her father’s side. As in many such books these days, Scobie writes about her journey to discovery, the ups and downs of her search, as well as her findings.
The matriarch, also named Margaret, was an enslaved African woman who was recorded as being owned by Scotsman Arthur Cordiner in Tobago in 1819. At the age of 22 in 1819, she had three children with her enslaved and Scobie paternal line derived from her daughter. who bore the surname Cordner. Scobie was able to compile family trees for this woman’s many descendants.
Second, because her paternal ancestors emigrated from Tobago to Trinidad in the post-emancipation period and early 1900s, the book is also an excellent example of local history—in the northeast corner of Trinidad, in and around Toco. . This then-remote part of Trinidad was settled mainly by immigrants from Tobago in this period, so Scobie’s relatives were part of a larger stream of people who opened up the region as farmers, fishermen and estate workers.
Through the detailed recollections of her cousin, Samuel Arthur (1926-2022), the book’s central section gives a vivid evocation of life in Rampanalgas, a village in the Toco area, between the 1920s and 1950s. Samuel’s father, Isaac Arthur ( 1883-1959), arrived here in 1927. A determined, ambitious, and hardworking man, he opened a dry goods store and eventually became a contractor on the construction of Toco Main Street and the owner of a small estate—all but hunting and fishing. Isaac Arthur was a successful businessman and local government figure; his store eventually became D Arthur’s Hotel, Restaurant and Conference Center, still owned and managed by family members.
Through Samuel’s recollections of growing up in Rampanalgas in the 1920s-1940s, Scobie paints a delightful portrait of village life in a remote rural community surrounded by dense forest and the sea, mostly inhabited by immigrants from Tobago. This was before electricity, piped water or any modern equipment, when transport was on foot or by horse, mule or donkey. The construction of Toco Main Street, which began in the early 1920s and continued for many years, was the highlight of his childhood. It provided a paved road connecting all the villages in the region to the Sangre Grande, where you could catch a train to Port of Spain and other places. But young Samuel had to walk 12 miles there and back to school, as Rampanalgas had none, and he never went to a secondary school.
Scobie himself grew up in Sangre Grande, the “metropolis” for the Toco region. (The book’s title refers to the roundabout in the heart of the city, which is portrayed on the cover.) She was the daughter of a deeply religious Adventist man, Alpheus Scobie (1910-1986), who was a “colporteur” (one who sold religious books). A shorter section of the book gives a vivid account of growing up in Grande in the late 1950s to early 1970s. The town was growing into the busy commercial center it is today, but her family had strong family ties to rural relatives from the Toko area who would visit him. As the child of a strict Adventist father, young Beverly was not encouraged to mingle much with the neighborhood children, although it appears that he nevertheless had a happy childhood.
Scobie’s book is a very nice production (layout and design are by Paria Publications). It is enriched with lavish illustrations: historical photographs of the Toco and Grande region, photos from family albums, and full-color photographs of landscape, sea, fruit, and trees. This book is visually a delight and very much a collector’s item. It will be of interest to many, not just those with a personal or family connection to the Toco/Grande region: it speaks to an important part of the nation’s history.
The book can be ordered from Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble, or the Paperback at Port of Spain.
— Bridget Brereton is Emeritus Professor of History at UWI, St Augustine.
• Andy Johnson’s column has ended.
