ANOTHER LETTER FROM FRANCE

In the Skirmisher No.13. Claude-Andre Glaster. the Clan's .-indefatigable'. French member mentions 7 Scrimgeours registered in the French telephone directory.

I am one of them. I am also responsible for five others. One I married, the other four were produced by a very common method which, however, is not talked about in polite Scottish society. But who is the seventh member? I hardly believe that Claude-Andre was referring to our turtle . . . .

Over the centuries Scots in genera1 and Scrimgeours in particular have travelled the globe. A glance at the clan membership register confirms they have mostly settled in countries generally (and very incorrectly) known as part of the Anglo-Saxon zone of influence.

I ended up in France. Why'?

My grandfather, the Rev. John Carron Scrimgeour, lived most of his life in Calcutta. Not, like Sister Teresa looking after the poor, but trying to teach local intellectuals the joys of Shakespeare. He was, after all, one of the 19th century's greatest experts with several publications on the subject to his credit. He died in Calcutta poor and young. His widow (nee Houseman. another literary family) returned to her home in London.

And that's where my father Eric John lived, became a stockbroker, and reared three children. Anthony, Colin and Judy.

After qualifying as a Chartered Accountant (English and Welsh Institute - sorry) I was ready to see the world. And as any tourist arriving at Calais knows, nowhere is more "different" to be polite, than France. The French may be superb cooks, but they are lousy accountants. So the die was cast.

Of course to live in France one should preferably speak French: the average 23 year old British Accountant doesn't. So I learnt the language, although to my regret I have retained my pure English accent (but I do wave my hand around when speaking and eat both snails and frogs legs).

Being called Scrimgeour was and still is unique in France. You will never guess how many different ways our name can be distorted. The most musical transformation seems to come from amourous French ladies late at night. The most common version sounds like SCKREEEM'JOUR which prompted one Mademoiselle to announce that she would love sometime to meet Sekreeem'nuit.

The French love the Scots. except after the occasional humiliation at Murrayfield (named after Skirmisher's Editor).

Although many Scots now live in the Paris area, the inhabitants of nearby St Germain en Laye are especially proud of one of their earliest Scottish residents: James II. However his motives for coming to France were somewhat different from mine. I am certain his bones rattle in time to the Scottish dancing at the annual Robert Burns evening which regularly attracts over two hundred kilted clansmen and women. Both my daughters have been regular dancers, wearing with pride the Scrimgeour tartan.

Marie, my wife and mother of Hamish, Katie, Carron and Laurie, originates from Flanders. She looks better in the kilt than I, so she does the honours. The children are multicultural Europeans, but. I am glad to say, support Scotland as fanatically as anyone when there is a match against those "_______ froggies".

Shakespeare asked "what's in a name?". A Sckreeem'jour is and always will be a Scrimgeour, blood being thicker than Evian (or even Perrier). I hope that the generations to be of the continental Scrimgeours will always consider Dundee as a place with special meaning.

Yes. Claude-Andre is right: clan meetings in the middle of French end-of-year exams are most inconvenient. But I hope that we will return in force at a not-too-distant clan meeting. Until then keep up the good work.

Best regards.

Cousin Anthony,

P.S. Since writing this. Renee. Claude-Andre and I held an unofficial French clan meeting at his home in Lille. He confirmed the seventh member is our turtle.

P.P.S. We have bought two more turtles, so please update the clan register.