Even a Short Journey Starts With the First Step

Last September I was asked to participate in a day long conference at the Smith Art Gallery and Museum, the subject was William Wallace. The conference was one of many events commemorating the last days of Wallace on the 700th Memorial to his capture and execution.
During the day, one of the others speakers, told the story of a snuff box that had been cut from the Wallace Oak and presented to George Washington, when he was newly President. They also had mentioned that this artifact had disappeared and nothing was known of it's present whereabouts.


The details of this story had faded in my memory. But, I was keen to include it in my book as a point of interest. Naturally, I sought out the one I know, that knows more unusal facts, about Wallace than anyone else I know. Dr. Elspeth King, the Curator of the "Smith", in Stirling. I wanted to give it, a lot of lead time, because Dr. King is a very busy person, indeed. So, I shot-off an email telling her, what I was up to and what info I was seeking. And waited.

I was very pleased when the answer came within a few short days.
She said the snuff box, was made by the Edinburgh Goldsmiths and presented to the 11th Earl of Buchan, who in turn, made a presentation of it, to Washington.
The box had disappeared long ago, and was looked for again, by herself, in the 1990's when she was preparing an exhibit, for the 700th Anniversary of the Battle of Stirling Bridge. ( I was in Stirling that weekend in 1997, the display at the Smith was brilliant. And, so was the vote that took place, that successfully brought the Parliment, back to Scotland, for the first time, since 1707.)
Elspeth said that a journalist, in '97 from America had run some articles, looking for it, to no avail. And the only possible mention was in a small newspaper clipping saying that someone had donated it to the DAR,(Daughters of the American Revolution), in a place called Bonniville, back in the early part of the 1900's.

She said of all the artifacts and gifts cut from the great Torwood Oak, that there, was no trace on any of them.

Well, that was enough to intrigue me,.....I wrote back and told her so.
Within a few hours I was hit with a strange urge to go looking, and suddenly,...........
the game was afoot. More later...