Fatlips and Gilnocky

I was in the Borders on a glorious autumn weekend (just before the floods!). As we passed Fatlips Tower on Minto Crags, I gave the traditional explanation of the odd name: 'The Turnbulls had fat lips'. But apparently there is a more interesting theory: one of the pleasures of a visit to Fatlips used to be that "every gentleman, by indefeasible privilege, kisses one of the ladies on entering."

The Turnbulls were a small Border clan; but travelling south we passed Caerlanrig, a place of pilgrimage for the Armstrongs, a big beast in the Border reiving jungle. In the 1500s Border families were raiding into England, embarrassing the Kings of Scots and in November 1530 Johnnie Armstrong of Gilnocky, one of the most successful reivers of his day rode out to Caerlanrig. He was invited to meet his king. Dressed in his finery, and with promise of safe passage, he rode with thirty-six followers to meet the youthful James V of Scotland who was hunting in the area.

Well, in brief, Johnnie and his men were taken and hanged without trial - pour encourager les autres. Johnnie's grave is there. His exploits are commmemorated in The Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong.

We went on to Johnnie's home at Gilnocky Tower (below), now a Clan Armstrong museum. (And yes, this photo was taken on 13 November 2009!).


As we headed further south, west and into England, we passed Carlisle, whose castle is made famous in another great story of the Borderlands. Kinmont Willie, also an Armstrong, was dramatically sprung from the castle by a bold Border raiding party led by Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch.

But that... is another ballad.

The Highland Archive Centre

I had a tour today of the very new Highland Archive Centre in Inverness: four large temperature and humidity controlled rooms house a mass of maps, records, letters, books, some dating from the 15th century. This is now the official depository for most of the records in the Highlands, but there are also large leatherbound volumes recording deaths, wills and landholdings throughout Scotland together with 'Burke's Peerage' and records of Scottish landed gentry. Out of curiosity I looked up a distant aristocratic ancestor who was apparently notable for having been rowdy in a Lyon théatre in 1768: he refused to shut up and accepted the offer of a duel in the foyer where both men were apparently run through but neither died! Of more general interest perhaps is the Family History Centre, full of clan and family histories. Staff are on hand to help, and you can make an appointment with the Highland Council Genealogist. But note that the centre is not open at weekends.

Albannach and Cymry

I've had a fascinating couple of days at 'Scotland's Global Impact' Conference in Inverness. I expected to learn more about well... the words in the title, but I didn't really expect to be re-educated on the origin of well-kent words.

I always thought 'Alba' was a deep-rooted, chest-puffing term for ancient Scotland. I enjoy explaining to clients that Sassenach are Southerners and by contrast, Albannach are us - Scots, Highlanders, Celts. Not a bit of it! I learnt yesterday (from Dr James Fraser of the School of Celtic and Scottish Studies at Edinburgh University) that Alba actually means Britain, the whole island. Hence, I suppose, 'perfidious Albion', a well established epithet for England, perhaps due to the white (albus) cliffs of Dover. Viewed, as this island was, by Gaels from Ireland, I suppose this all makes sense.

I did actually know that 'Welsh' (also Walsh and Wallace) means foreigners. But I didn't know that "Wales" originates from the Germanic word Wahl which referred to foreigners who had been "Romanised".

Talking of Romanisation, James Fraser also explained that Britons in the South of Scotland (south of the Antonine Wall) were proud to be thought 'Romanised'. Even after the Romans had left. Some legacy!

In the tenth century 'Alba' came to mean the nation of Picts and Gaels. And in the afternoon we, too, moved into the Middle Ages. Masses of interesting thoughts and stories, but no etymological shocks.

The Stone of the Maiden

It has been a lovely bright autumn weekend and I took a walk to a local landmark called the 'Stone of the Maiden'. Lying in the dappled sunlight of a larch wood, this extraordinary rock, a mass of small stones bound together many millions of years ago, played a key role in Nairnshire's 16th century version of Romeo and Juliet. This was the stone where the lovers would meet prior to the tragic denouement, ultimately played out at Rait Castle.



The gist is that an attempt by the Comyns of Rait to murder their neighbours the MacKintoshes by inviting them to dinner at Rait was dramatically reversed, thanks to two young lovers. The story is told in full on my Save Rait Castle site.

Three questions remain in my mind...

1. How do you cut off both of a young girl's hands when she is hanging out of a window?
2. Why did the MacKintoshes leave the castle to become ruinous and not take it over when it was available to them in 1442?
3. Why do the Custodians of Scotland's architectural heritage continue to allow this, the best standing example of a 13th century Scottish Hall House, to be overtaken by the surrounding undergrowth?

Cawdor Castle

Yesterday I spent a happy late afternoon in the Cawdor Castle gardens, trying out a new camera.

For many the word 'Cawdor' brings just a faint echo of 'Thane of Cawdor' in Shakespeare's 'Macbeth'. In fact Macbeth became king of Scotland in 1040; and so long before the castle was built (circa. 1400) or even the first Thane appointed (1295).


Cawdor has a golden thread of authenticity: built by the third Thane, it is now the winter home of the 25th Thane's widow. It is also a stylish survivor: despite the Battle of Culloden ten miles away and the Battle of Auldearn six miles away the castle is undamaged by battle or ill-advised additions and has grown in sympathy with the original architecture. Today the castle shows how history, art, fine gardens, gracious 21st century living and a successful visitor attraction may be happily combined.

And the golden thread is there for those who look. The thorn tree, over which the castle was built in 15th century, (whereby hangs a tale) is still there; radio carbon dating confirms it. The joining of the families of Cawdor and Campbell in the early 16th century is in the crest above the drawbridge: Campbell Motto, Cawdor crest. That's another tale - one of kidnap, mutilation, murder and a surprisingly happy marriage!

And above the main entrance is the coat of arms of Sir Hugh, 15th Thane. He married Henrietta Stewart whose arms, including the familiar red lion rampant, are on the right. Their 17th century marriage bed, recently reconditioned, is on display in the castle.

As I wandered round the gardens, I started to notice dates. An aromatic herb native to North America, collected in 1744. Lavender beds laid out by the Lady Cawdor of that time in 1850. The holly maze, planted in 1981. And one part of the Rose Garden is closed as it is currently being reconstructed. And so it continues. An age away from Lady MacBeth and her devilish plotting.