Cleits and Whisky Distilling in Achapharic

It's a lovely time of year.

Not just the frost (picture taken yesterday) and festive stuff, but those of us lucky enough to be running holiday companies have a few minutes to ponder: 2009 holidays are done and only a few people are embarked on next year's arrangements. Of course there is still plenty to do, but I allow myself to pursue the occasional 'red herring' . A Canadian client wrote:

'The reason for the Kintyre Peninsular is that my parents found our ancestors' place of residence (a ruin) on the west coast of the peninsular near A'Cleit on a visit a couple of years ago. We absolutely need to visit that place. It was called Achapharic)'.

I learned that cleit is a word that survived largely on St Kilda (before it was evacuated in 1930), meaning a stone built storehouse and I came on this wonderful picture of a man on a cleit roof holding a fowling rope. The rope would be so that a youngster would have a safety rope as he raided the nests on cliff ledges below for plump young gulls. Another picture of a cleit below.

'Achapharic' took me to stories of illicit whisky distilling to make money that was needed for ever higher rents...

In 1806 a typical rent would be one or two 3-year old wedders at six shillings each, six dozen eggs and six hens valued at four shillings plus a sum of money which entitled the tenant to a seat in church. The tenants were also bound to cart loads of turf for dyking, grow oats and bear for meal, flax for coarse linen and give the services of a man and a cart free for two to six days annually.

Living off young gulls or keeping hold of your house only by distilling whisky in the hills and evading excisemen...

We've come a long way in 200 years.

Or have we?

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?