Greetings to all of the "Kellow's, Kello's Kelloe's, Kellowe's, Kellawe's...etc.", from around the world. Or, perhaps to be a little more precise: within those countries, or colonies, which were, or are, part of the Commonwealth of Great Britain. As a member of one of the "North American" branches of the Kellow family, I am hoping to be able to shed some light upon (or thoroughly confuse) anyone whioh has asked themself the all important questio: "Where did we come from, originally?"
As you look around the world, you will notice that there are a "smattering" of "Kellow's (including all variant spellings) in nearly all of the former colonies of Great Britain. Like most of you, I had begun my search, back in 1975, by attemtping to "trace" my lineage within the United States, as far back as possible. I spent much of my free time poring over the genealogical records within our State Library. There were census records, marriage records, birth records, and articles from very early colonial newspapers. I was able to trace my particular family line, back as far as Washington County, Tennessee, in 1830. I also learned that "Kellow's/Kello's" had been living in North Carolina in 1800 and 1810. I also found a reference which indicated that there had been a "Kellow/Kello" living in the Maryland colony, as early as 1697. Unfortunately, what I was not able to do, was to make specific "connections" between these various "Kellow/Kello" names and my particular line. In my work as a Professional Land Surveyor, I am required to be able to "connect the dots", when it comes to understanding the complete "chain of title" with respect to the history of a tract of land. I treat our family history research with the same approach. Because there were a number of different events which brought "Kellow's/Kello's" to this continent, I did not feel comfortable leaping to any conclusions.
I had been aware of the "connection" to the Hume Clan, in the lands of Berwickshire, circa 1238 to 1278. I had also been aware of the great many "Kellow's" who had migrated from the Cornwall region of England. I had the great good fortune of sitting down and visiting with one the Cornwall Kellow's, whose family had migrated to Pennsylvania (19th century) - North to Canada - and across Canada to Vancouver Island. This was in 1988. At that time, I would guess that he was in his 70's. He had the same build, appearance, white hair and steely blue eyes that my father possessed. His first question to me was: "Is your daddy a Cornishman?" Unfortunately, I could not answer that question, with any certainty, either way.
This past spring, I began to feel that I had gathered as much information regarding my own specific line, as I could. I had "searched" the internet for new pieces of information, but was invariably ending up at the same dead-end. I decided to take a step in a different direction, and booked a flight to Edinburgh, Scotland. I would then spend the next ten days scouring the Scottish Borders, in search of names, places, and information from old Parish Records and local historical societies.
This truly became the "trip of a lifetime". During my first day of touring from Edinburgh - along the Southeast coast of Scotland - to Berwick-upon-Tweed, I managed to navigate for six hours, while operating the Vauxhall Vectra from the opposite side of the car - while driving on the opposite side of the road. Turning off of a main road...and onto a side road...always took a great deal of forethought. My first "side-road-turns" were not flawless...and I know that there are some Border Scots who are still driving around in fear that they might encounter that crazy American "wrong lane" driver, once again.
One of my more fortunate right hand turns, put me onto a narrow paved country road leading from the Berwick area - Westerly - towards Greenlaw. It was about twenty miles between the two towns. As I was driving along - between the North bank of the River Tweed and the Blackadder Water, mid-way between the two towns - I was approaching a "T" junction, in the road. I always tried to "read" the white and black-lettered signs, to be sure that I was headed in the right direction. As I drove past the signpost, my eye caught the signboard pointing to my right, which said: "Kelloe 1 1/4". Whoa!!! Given that I was the only vehicle on this little country lane - other than the occasional "lorry" loaded with hay - I quickly wheeled the car around, and headed back to the junction. I turned North...following this narrow paved lane...crossed over an ancient stone bridge (Blackadder Water) and up, onto a grassy plateau where I encountered the "Kelloe Stables" (horse riding festival area) and the "Kelloe Mains" (large dairy farm). As I stood on this particular spot of earth...and looked around...I felt a sense of satisfaction at being able to put my feet upon the very same ground that some of our Kelloe, Kellow, Kello forebears had walked upon nearly 800 years ago. But, I also had this strange feeling that, while we had once lived and worked in this area....we had moved away from this place, a very long time ago. I took some photos...and trundled on down the road towards Greenlaw.
Next stop...."Hume Castle". (see next installment)
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