“The Road He Took Himself” — A MacGillivray Memory from Iona

Inspired by Mairi MacArthur’s “Tracks & Paths – Iona’s Namescape”

Family stories are like tide-worn stones — carried through time, smoothed by repetition, but always solid underfoot. One such story, deeply rooted in the island of Iona and in my own MacGillivray heritage, comes from a beautifully evocative piece by historian Mairi MacArthur. In her article Tracks & Paths – Iona’s Namescape, she shares a tale that is at once specific to our family and universally resonant with all who trace their roots to this small Hebridean island.

In the mid-1860s, the MacGillivray family moved from Mull to Iona, settling on a croft called Cnoc Oran, tucked away in the west end of the island. Known locally as Na Dròbhairean — The Drovers — generations of MacGillivrays had taken part in the great cattle gatherings, swimming beasts across the sound and driving them all the way south to the markets at Crieff or Falkirk. These were men of resilience, stamina, and instinct.

One of them, Duncan MacGillivray, born in 1877, was remembered for his uncanny ability to chart a straight path — whether across bog, field or boundary wall. If Duncan wanted to reach the jetty, or visit the village street, he didn’t wait for a gate or follow a track. He simply jumped the dyke surrounding the Sligineach crofts and walked the quickest line through meadow and crop alike. He was, in every way, a man who walked his own road.

When Duncan died in 1952, the island came together as it always had. The men gathered at Cnoc Oran to escort his coffin by horse and cart to the ancient burial ground of Reilig Odhráin. But the horse was skittish — uneasy, perhaps, because of the unusual crowd or the dark coats replacing everyday workwear. As they waited for the animal to settle, a dispute broke out about the route: should they take the easier, longer road by the Sligineach shore, or brave the steeper track past Maol farmhouse and down to the Nunnery?

Then came a voice — practical, firm, and clear:“Ach, carson nach gabh sibh an rathad a ghabh e fhéin?”"Why not take him the road he took himself?"

And just like that, the decision was made.

We don’t know for sure which path the cart ultimately followed, but that one phrase stayed with Mairi’s father, who was there that day — and it now lives on in our family memory. It says something more than just convenience or direction. It speaks of character. Of legacy. Of walking your path in life — and being carried home by it in the end.

The graveyard on Iona where Duncan MacGillivray, my great,great uncle is buried.

A Legacy Beneath Our Feet

This story doesn’t just describe a funeral or a shortcut. It’s about the intimate connection between people and place — how the landscape becomes a memory map, marked not by signs or satellites but by footsteps, family names, and the way someone used to walk across a field.

It’s a reminder, too, of how our ancestors moved through their world with purpose and instinct, even if they left little in writing. The croft names, the dykes, the byways, and the stories told at kitchen tables — these are the heritage markers we must hold onto.

As descendants of the MacGillivrays of Cnoc Oran, this tale gives us more than an anecdote. It gives us a route back — not only to the place, but to the kind of people they were.

With Gratitude

This story is drawn from the article Tracks & Paths – Iona’s Namescape, written by Mairi MacArthur for the Iona Placenames Project. Mairi’s deep knowledge and poetic insight into Iona’s landscape are invaluable, and her work brings voices like Duncan’s — and families like ours — back into the story of place. You can read the original article here: https://iona-placenames.glasgow.ac.uk/trackspaths

If you’re a MacGillivray descendant, or someone with family connections to Iona or Mull, I’d love to hear from you. Which roads did your people take — and which do you still walk today?