A Dumfries Family Story - Brought to Life on Tour

18th January 2026

For many of our tour guests, their journey through Scotland is so much more than a vacation. It’s a voyage of ancestral discovery, a way to reconnect with ancestors and their heritage. People from all over the world feel drawn to the misty glens, ancient castles, weathered kirkyards, and quiet rural landscapes that tell stories of their family’s past. 

You may have been fascinated by tales your grandparents told of Scotland when you were a wee bairn, or perhaps you are lucky enough to carry a strong clan name that connects you to famous warriors from the Jacobite era. Whatever your connection, you’ll find that Scotland is uniquely placed for ancestral travel. Few countries preserve their past so vividly in the present. On past tours, we have been able to show guests detailed parish records. We have taken them to villages where distant relatives still reside or the sites of great battles where great-great-great-great…grandfathers likely fought. Some have even come upon the houses their ancestors lived in, a magical and emotional experience for all involved. 

At Best Scottish Tours, our ancestry tours are about far more than dates on a family tree. They are about connecting people to landscapes, stories, and lived experiences. In this blog, we detail one such tour - the Bailey family’s adventure in the Scottish Borders.

Embarking on a Quest to Reconnect with the Past

Janet Bailey and her daughter Katy had booked an exciting 11 day tour with us, allowing them to enjoy the very best of what Scotland has to offer. However, the mum daughter duo wanted more from their visit to Scotland, and asked us if we could facilitate a two day private tour to explore their family heritage in Dumfries and Galloway and of course we said yes! 

Janet’s mother was a McMichael, closely linked to Clan Carmichael. Her family’s history is rooted in the beautiful rolling countryside of southern Scotland - an area that, in the past, has been overlooked by those touring Scotland, but in recent years visits to Dumfries and Galloway have been on the rise (and quite right too!) We love touring this beautiful area and while it might not have many of the ‘top ten must-see sights in Scotland’, we think you would be pleasantly surprised by its beauty, rich history, historical buildings and the tranquil, untouched atmosphere.

Take a look at our blog ‘Scottish Borders Itinerary Highlights’ to find out more about southern Scotland.

Dumfries Explorer Tour

The pair set off on their two-day Dumfries Explorer Tour, guided by Driver Guide Terry. Take a look at our 7 Day Scottish Borders, Arran & Galloway Forest Park Tour for an extended itinerary for this stunning region. 

Janet’s great-great-great-grandparents were James McMichael and his wife Janet (maiden name Dickinson) who lived at Barwhillanty in Galloway. Their son, also James, is the centre of the story. He is the one who emigrated to the USA to start a new life there. 

Janet had limited, but meaningful information on her ancestry - names, places, and the knowledge that previous family members had once located a grave in a small rural churchyard. Terry is an experienced Driver Guide, and like many of our drivers, he has what we call “the gift of the gab” i.e., he can talk to anyone and he is great at finding out information about local people and communities. He’s been known to get our guests invited into local people’s homes on several occasions! We knew he’d be up to the task.

Vitally, Janet had a copy of a letter written to James by a childhood friend and young love, Isabel Moore, and this is the beginning of James’s heart-wrenching story detailed at the end of this blog (tissues at the ready!)

Discovering Family Heritage

To help Janet and Katy reconnect to their ancestors, Terry took them to places such as Drumrash Farm (where Isabella’s family lived), Parton Church where the McMichaels attended worship, and James Senior and Janet’s graves.

They also enjoyed some of the area's must-see sights including Caerlaverock Castle, Sweetheart Abbey, Star Hotel in Moffat (the narrowest hotel in Europe), and Sandyhill Beach.

We’ve done many other tours of this nature, with guests being able to find their relatives' names written in birth and death records in little rural parishes, visiting the homes where great-great-grandparents were born, and even wandering through the halls of grand castles where their clan’s Chiefs once ruled.

‘After our 11 day tour finished, we took a 2 day trip to visit southwest Scotland near Dumfries and Galloway where one of our ancestors was from. Our tour guide/driver Terry was absolutely wonderful and helpful in trying to fill in some missing pieces of our genealogy. We thoroughly enjoyed our adventure of visiting the church and estates where our ancestors had lived. Upon our return home, Terry surprised us with a lovely story that he had written about the life and times of Scotland that our ancestor had known before he emigrated to the United States. This meant so much to our family and was just another example of how Best Scottish Tours and its employees go above and beyond.’ - Janet, July 2025

Have Your Very Own Scottish Family Journey

If you have Scottish roots, whether traced back generations or only recently discovered, there is no substitute for standing where your ancestors once stood. Scotland’s history lives in its landscapes, and we would be honoured to help you discover the places where your ancestors once stood.

At Best Scottish Tours, we specialise in escorted, custom-designed ancestry journeys, tailored to your family story, research, and interests. From short regional explorations to extended heritage tours, we help bring your past to life, just as Janet and Katy’s Dumfries story was brought vividly into the present. You can either combine this with a wider tour of Scotland, or focus on the particular area where your family once lived.

Get in touch with our team to discuss your itinerary or take a look at our Custom Tours to get the ideas flowing!

The Story of James McMichael by Driver Terry

A Little Background 

James and Janet McMichael lived at Barwhillanty in Galloway. The estate lies on the shores of Loch Ken and at that time consisted of the main estate house and several sub-tenanted farms, one of which they probably occupied. James died in 1827 aged 66, and Janet in 1831 aged 49. They had three children so far as we know, James, Hellan and Robert. James Jnr. was the only one who survived infancy and attained adulthood, a not unfamiliar situation in rural Scotland at the time.

James Snr would have been born around 1761 in Galloway, a part of rural Scotland that had been at the heart of resistance from the early Middle Ages. In fact it had been a separate sub-kingdom well into the early years of the foundation of Scotland and somewhat reluctantly became part of that kingdom. 

Galloway’s independence of mind and spirit didn’t end there, though. At the time of Robert the Bruce, who held lands there, it was a hotbed of resistance against the English and Galwegians played a huge part in the Wars of Independence. 

Again it was the centre of much of the unrest during the bloody and disruptive Covenanting period in the mid-1600’s. 

Dumfries, the main local town, was one of the places where the local population burned copies of the Treaty of Union in 1707. Between 1711 and 1718 there were four major incidents in opposition to the Union in the area.

And through all this period agricultural reform was taking place. The “Improvements” by landowners were those which consisted of enclosing land for cattle and sheep farms, leaving little for the small cotters who used common ground. In 1724, there was an uprising in Galloway over the enclosures, resulting in thousands of people levelling miles of dykes that the landowners had erected.

The so-called Agricultural Revolution where people rose up took place, but in most cases they were subdued by the establishment with those not executed being sent overseas to North America and after the USA gained independence, to Australia.  

All through this period was the constant fear of revolution. You can say revolution was in the air, for not only did the American Revolution take place, you had the French Revolution too, declaring Liberté, Égalité et Fraternité and the vote for the common man. In the UK, this was all frowned on by the establishment and their suppression of these movements just led to more discontent. 

There was the Radical War of 1820; The blocking of the Reform Act of 1832 by the Tories in the House of Lords; huge marches in many Scottish cities demanding reform, with crowds of over 100,000 frequently being seen.

And during all this you had the Scottish Enlightenment, with huge advances in knowledge, the arts and sciences. Education was at a premium, with the established church, the Church of Scotland, setting up parish churches all over the country. It was also the time of writers and poets; Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns, Allan Ramsay, Duncan Ban MacIntyre and many others. Many of those supported universal suffrage and the Jacobite cause. Reading Burns’ Scots Wha Hae and realising that it was sung as a rebellious anthem at many marches, highlights just how much of a tumultuous period this was.

James’s Early Years

Young James had been born in 1800 to his mother Janet who was 20 years younger than her husband. It was not an uncommon pairing in rural Scotland in those days. Men waited until they had some grounding and position before marrying and starting a family. His father had waited until he was established as a tenant farmer on Barwhillanty Estate before marrying Janet.

It came as something of a shock when he had to bury his father, aged 66. Old for the day in some ways, but he was always sturdy and active until his untimely calling. Staunch Presbyterians, young James and his mother Janet accepted their lot that they had been given by the Almighty. The loss of his father made working the farm even harder. He applied himself to the task, but fluctuating markets just added to his woes.

Wool, the white gold during the Napoleonic Wars, had crashed in value since the defeat at  Waterloo. It wasn’t needed for uniforms and mutton didn’t fetch a high price as so much of it flooded the food chain when farmers offloaded their valueless sheep to reduce rising debts.

The recent unrest among weavers throughout Scotland meant that any wool you did sell had to be transported further at higher costs.

In 1831 his mother Janet had suddenly died at the age of 49, and for the last five years his struggle to keep the farm viable had almost overwhelmed him. 

Looking Across Oceans

James thought about his family's financial troubles as he mounted his horse and headed up from the banks of Loch Ken, passing Parton House then the parish church and school he had attended. He looked out over the waters of Loch Ken. The early April mist shrouded the loch, but the occasional rising trout knew that spring was near. 

James had spoken at length with those he trusted for advice. His farm’s factor told him of his brother, who had decided to head for the New World to seek his fortune. Others related similar tales to him of friends and family who had left for North America and found that any man willing to work hard could be successful and establish himself with land on good farming ground. They told him that what they had seen of him on the farm, struggling against the odds with his strong Presbyterian work ethic, and faith in the Lord, had convinced them that he could be a success in the new country of the United States of America.

He sat thinking for what seemed like an age. A miserable smirr replaced the mist. The small rain that seems to soak into your very being. 

His horse, Meg, whinnied her annoyance at the penetrating wet. He smiled and stood to pat her neck. She had been born just before his father died, and her mother had been a trusted and valued steed throughout her life. Qualities she had passed on to her daughter. He had named her Meg after the mare in his favourite poem by Rabbie Burns, ‘Tam o’Shanter.’

This moment of companionship with Meg was fleeting. His thoughts turned again to the decision he had to make. Mixed memories drifted through his mind. The school with its bare wooden seats, lorded over by the parish-appointed dominie who firmly believed in ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’ The cold and dank parish church they were obliged to attend for fear of castigation on the cuttie stool in front of their friends and family among the congregation. It instilled in them a staunch belief in Presbyterianism, and ironically a belief that no man was created better than any other. One reason why Scottish Protestants were often to the fore in questioning the establishment.

But he had fonder memories too. Especially of his Isabella. 

Childhood Sweethearts

They had attended school together, although they had known each other since the dawning of their memories. Dreary school days had little shafts of sunlight when she smiled at him or they sat together at the break in lessons. 

As they grew older, they grew closer. In their late teens both families had given their consent for them to be courting. All governed by chaperones in public and the strict rules of propriety when alone. 

Like the McMichaels, Isabella’s family were tenant farmers, but on the Drumrash Estate, which Isabella’s mother’s family the Shaws, owned. Her mother, also Isabella, had been born Isabella Shaw and had married a man called Moore. The Shaws had been major tenants on the estate for several generations and were well thought of in the area. The Shaws and the Moores thought highly of James and had admired his hard work since the death of his father. 

A Tearful Farewell

Bringing his mind back to the task in hand, James rode towards Drumrash Farm. As he approached the main house, the farm dogs ran towards him barking at his arrival, and then yelping as they recognised who it was. Tails spinning like whirligigs with excitement. Their din brought a figure to the door. It was Isabella. Dressed in a white working pinny over her day clothes, wiping flour from her hands onto the front of the heavy cover.

He dismounted, they embraced, and he kissed her gently on the lips, knowing full well other eyes would be on them, given the noisy welcome from the dogs. 

She took him inside to the parlour and they sat down. Her eyes were misty, knowing what it was that brought him to her. She had heard from both him and others that he was intending to go abroad to seek his fortune.

He started to tell her of his decision. Of how he had sold what little he had left on the farm, and had raised just enough to buy his passage aboard ship to New York. The words caught in his throat as he told her that he could not raise enough for them to marry and for her to go with him. She smiled, saying she already knew that. Her hands closed on his as she promised that she would wait for him to return so they could share their future together.

There was little more they could say to each other. Promises were made to write regularly, and farewells made to her family. He had told her that he would be boarding a coach the next morning to take him to the ship, and that he would leave Meg with a friend in Castle Douglas to bring to Isabella. He knew that Meg would be in good hands.

And so they parted. 

New Beginnings 

The journey to New York was neither speedy nor enjoyable. Within weeks of landing, he had used the contacts given in Scotland to secure employment. He excelled, became admired among his peers, but never forgot the two loves of his life. His native Scotland and his darling Isabella. 

James wrote, and Isabella too. The letters took an age to go from Galloway to New York and then the answer back, so they were few in number. Sometimes three or six months passed between them. Their letters talked of their love and he regaled her with how he was setting up for her to join him. 

The Return to Drumrash Farm

Finally, he had enough behind him to encourage him to return to Scotland. He wrote to her at the beginning of 1839, saying it was his intention to come to her. Isabella received the letter in May. She wrote back and told him that she was not in the best of health. The letter and James’ ship passed in mid-Atlantic. James landed back in his home country in early November. 

He travelled by coach to Castle Douglas, and there arranged for a horse to take him to Drumrash. 

He rode through Crossmichael, along the banks of the River Dee, and on the shores of Loch Ken. Passing Parton church, he nodded in remembrance of his late parents, both buried there.

So James rode on, past Drumlaggan Wood, where he and Isabella spent time as youngsters playing among the bluebells and chasing the deer and red squirrels. Whereas teenagers they had stolen moments away from curious and judgemental eyes. The memories melding with a smile on his lips, and on up the road to Drumrash Farm.

As he approached the main house, just as before, the farm dogs ran towards him barking at his arrival, and then yelping as they recognised who it was. Meg, his old horse, whinnied and trotted over to him, recognition in her every movement. 

Their din brought a figure to the door. Dressed in a white working pinny.

But it wasn’t his Isabella. 

It was her mother. She saw who it was and her hand went to her mouth. He heard her gasp, then saw tears blind her eyes.

As he dismounted, his heart was racing and there was a grip of fear on his throat. He moved towards her, and she almost collapsed into his arms.

Telling him the news was the second worst thing she had had to do in recent months. Haltingly, she told him how Isabella had been taken ill some months before. She did not fare well, and the local physician told them that she had consumption. 

Initially, they thought that she would recover, but the damp climate and cold homes were a death sentence to many sufferers. As it was with Isabella. 

In her last letter, the one that he hadn’t received, Isabella told him that she was unwell and she didn’t think that she would survive another winter. Her words proved prophetic. A drier, warmer climate may have saved her, but she would always have been weakened by the scourge of what we now know as Tuberculosis.

A Love Lost

James went to the churchyard that he had so recently passed. He broke down in tears for the girl who had been so much a part of his life, and whom he had wanted to be so much a part of his future. Now both were robbed of a joint life by the cruelty of disease.

He spent little time in Galloway. His grief barely allowed him the strength to speak to those friends who still cared for him. He headed back to the port to gain passage to New York. 

Eyebrows were raised as he told the purser that his two tickets would only be one. The journey back was a blur. No wind or storm could penetrate his grief.

The United States of America was to become his permanent home. He didn’t marry for 10 years after returning, his grief lingering that long. 

Eventually he did marry, and had ten children, and it was one of the descendants of those children who made the journey back to Scotland, to Galloway, to the shores of Loch Ken to trace her ancestors, the McMichaels, father, mother, and son. 

The story of James and Isabella. A story of lost love, but also of how fate can change the future for any of us. Without the sad passing of Isabella, there are hundreds of descendants of James McMichael who otherwise would never have been.

I wonder if in his later days, James would have pondered that last meeting with Isabella before he took ship to the USA. Would he have thought of the words of Scotland’s Bard, Robert Burns, about lost love…

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

Who shall say that Fortune grieves him

While the star of hope she leaves him?

Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me,

Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy;

Naething could resist my Nancy;

For to see her was to love her,

Love but her, and love for ever.

Had we never loved sae kindly,

Had we never loved sae blindly,

Never met—or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!

Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!

Thine be ilka joy and treasure,

Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!

Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

- Terry Markwick, 10 July 2025

Embark on your own ancestral adventure with Best Scottish Tours.