Round Britain Flight
In his article “Puzzled by a Picture” in the December issue, Forbes Inglis notes that, during his pioneering “Round Great Britain” flight in 1913, Harry Hawker called at Cromarty. This photograph, taken by a local man, shows his “waterplane” being refuelled, watched by interested onlookers on the beach at the Links. The Scottish Film Archive have a short reel showing Hawker flying into the firth, landing and refuelling, plus even shorter views of him at Oban and the wreck of the plane at Dublin. The refuelling was done by the Cromarty Royal Naval Air Station which was the first such unit in Scotland. It had been established in June 1913 by Lieut. Commander A.M. Longmore, R.N. He retired from the R.A.F. at the end of World War II as Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Longmore, G.C.B., D.S.O. The purpose of the Cromarty station was to be the eyes of the fleet, especially in spotting U-boats as well as developing a system of sending wireless messages from aircraft to ship. Hawker’s stop at Cromarty lasted exactly one hour and when he took off just after 3pm, he first circled round the fleet which was anchored in the firth and he was then cheered on his way by the sailors. As Mr Inglis says, on leaving Cromarty, Hawker flew to Oban via Inverness. This was supposed to be a round Great Britain flight so why did Hawker fly to Oban via the Caledonian Canal? Surely he should have gone north via John O’Groats, Cape Wrath and the Minch? However, at that time a Parliamentary Order was in force prohibiting flights over that area to prevent espionage from the air. This was 1913, Germany was re-arming furiously, spy mania was rife and our Government was in a highly nervous state.
Eric Malcolm, Cromarty
 
Game On
What an absolute delight for an ageing ghillie from the 1950s to find that The Scots Magazine is carrying articles based on his former stamping ground! Andy Malcolm’s accounts of his game-keeping life resurrected my memories of 1951 to 1954 when I was a ghillie and pony man on the same estate during the long university holidays (Aberdeen). I gathered material for my M.A. thesis on the Glen during 1954 completing it in 1955. During these four years I stayed in a bothy almost every weekend, existing on local fare … and it wasn’t all rabbits! The real high spot came in October, 1954, when I threw a leaving party in the canteen, and invited the Laird. Before he left, he said, “When you’re on leave from National Service, ring the Factor and tell him I want you to have a stag, and if I’m around I’ll bring it in!” Several years later, I wrote and reminded him of the promise, and he was as good as his word. I had a wonderful day out with Fred Taylor, and shot three stags and brought them in – the Laird being away at the time. Andy’s writing wonderfully reveals the range of the gamekeeper’s work, and recalls the quite magical landscape of his environment. Keep it up, Andy!
Graham Simpson, Eardisland, Herefordshire
Game Off?
I have to disagree with Game On in the November issue. The caption on the picture of a pony carrying the body of a deer states that he “loves it”. He may “love” being in the mountains, but I doubt this intelligent creature loves anything about carrying the dead body of a fellow herbivore. Horses are highly in tune with what is going on around them, and would be confused, if not stressed, by having to carry a fellow animal’s body, still warm and bleeding, I suppose, through harsh terrain. Please don’t pass off the slaughter of a magnificent beast as something as jovial as “horseplay”.
Nicky Bell, Dunfermline
 
Tramways Article
Gordon Casely’s article “Back on the Rights Rails” (November) was interesting. Here in Edinburgh, of course, there is an attempt at a new system, although it won’t be much use to the residents. He mentions as a reason for scrapping the trams that they held up the private car. During our last session at Colinton Local History Society, one of our subjects was the original Edinburgh system. The last slide was one taken to show the trams holding up the cars. It showed a new tram coming on to Princes Street at the Caledonian Hotel with the cause of the hold-up in front, a huge lorry. Leith went straight from horses to electricity. While the two systems operated, a passenger from Leith to the West End had to come off at the top of Leith Walk and transfer to the cable car, paying another fare. The crossover point can still be seen at Waterloo Place. Tramway relics are easy to spot. Walk down Howe Street and look at the setts and you can see where the tramlines were, or in conservation areas of Glasgow look up at Victorian and Edwardian buildings and the wire brackets are still there. Examples can also be seen in Perth at the corner of George Street and High Street.
Charles Coventry, Colinton, Edinburgh
Lochranza Campsite
In Lynda Hamilton’s article “Driving Home” in the March edition of the Scots Magazine, no mention was given of the facilities at Lochranza Campsite. We are AA three pennants rated. We have a well-kept shower and toilet block with widely-praised hot showers at no extra charge. We have a laundry and a visitors' lounge with comfortable chairs, books and games as well as tourist information displays with lots of ideas for things to see and do in the area. Fridge, microwave and kettle are available for use at no extra charge. We pride ourselves on offering facilities to ensure visitors have a clean and comfortable stay whilst exploring a wild, mountainous environment. You can see photos of Lochranza Campsite at www.arran-campsite.com  
Kathryn Mawson and Nigel Wells, proprietors Lochranza Campsite
 
Bell Rock Memories
I have just finished reading the excellent articles in the February issue of your magazine, especially those about the Bell Rock Lighthouse. In August, 1934, our family went, as usual, to Arbroath for our summer holiday. One day my father, with the aid of his cousin, persuaded the crew of a local fishing boat to take us out for a visit to the lighthouse, accompanied by my father’s cousins, his elder son, and several local friends. We landed on the Inchcape rock at low tide and were able to enter the lighthouse and visit all its rooms, as well as climbing to the top to inspect the lantern. I was only seven years old and, as you can imagine, was fascinated by the visit which I have never forgotten. My father took a number of photographs, so I have a permanent reminder of it. When I was older, I bought a book in a second-hand bookshop in Edinburgh titled “Notes on the Natural History of the Bell Rock” by J.M. Campbell. The book covers the service of the author, a keeper on the lighthouse from April 1901 until April 1904 when he was transferred elsewhere. It is a fascinating account of the daily life of the keeper during this period.
Ian W. Roberts, Purley
Reindeer Memories
I must say how much I enjoyed Jim Crumley’s article about The Caingorm Reindeer. I knew the late Mikel Utsi very well and also his wife Dr. Lindstrom who as well as being secretary of the Reindeer Company, was a lecturer at Oxford University. I also spent some time in Mr Utsi’s home town of Jokkmok on the Artic Circle in Northern Sweden. We had many an enjoyable time with the reindeer herd, in the Cairngorms. Sometimes Vincent Utsi would come over to stay at Reindeer House on his break from Stockholm University to help his father with the reindeer. I have many great memories of riding on a “pulka” with a reindeer in harness – a very swift way to travel through the snow amongst the birch woods.
Robert Ballie, Tasmania
 
Bennachie
Reading Nick Drainey’s article on Bennachie was like a trip back home, as the map showed the small town of Oyne where my uncle and aunt ran the only shop. Running through my head was the old Doric version of the song “Gin I were where the Gadie rins at the fit of Bennachie”. The Gadie burn runs through Aboyne. As students from Aberdeen in the early 50s, a friend and I stayed there for three weeks stooking hay. We kept fit by heading up to the Mither Tap or playing soccer for Insch further on the road. Reading on, I came to the Scottish bookshelf and there was Charlie Allan, another Doric speaker. Funnily enough there’s no mention of his singing, but in 2005 another life-long friend sent me a CD with a collection of cornkisters (bothy ballads), some written by Charlie himself. His love of the north east shows through with the feeling in his vocals. I generally pass on my monthly magazines to my Australian friends, many of whom have Scottish backgrounds. I think I’ll hang on to this one and sing along to the tune of Nicky Tams!
Steve McPherson, Tasmania
Lochcarron
I thoroughly enjoyed the article “Princely Peaks” in the December issue. Every year, from 1948 till 1958, our family went to Lochcarron and stayed with my great uncle Dunk (Duncan Baron Fraser) known locally as Dunkie Dodachan (“old man” in Gaelic) and his lovely cocker spaniel, Bodachan. We started our journey at Buchanan Street Station, Glasgow, and travelled overnight, arriving at Inverness around 6 am in time for breakfast. As the journey commenced, my mother’s brogue started to take on a highland lilt. By the time we actually reached Strathcarron, her voice was the same as the locals! Dunk had the only taxi waiting our arrival, and after we were all seated, with the back doors tied, as the doors wouldn’t stay closed, we arrived safely at Dunk’s home. At the front window, a draughts board was always set up and many happy hours were spent on wet days playing the game. Sometimes we did water-colour paintings of Attadale, which was on the opposite side of the loch.In your article you mentioned, Sgorr Ruada. My sister, Morag, and father went to the top, and for many years it was remembered as a highlight of our many holidays.
Heather Park, Auckland
 
Small World
Isn’t it a small world? For the last few years, as an ex-private pilot, I have joined a group of retired Canadian Department of Transport and Royal Canadian Air Force flight crews and pilots. We meet every Tuesday for lunch at Harvey’s hamburger restaurant in Ottawa. One day, I discovered one of them had been getting radar training at Prestwick Airport in World War Two and was billeted in Troon. He said his flying training consisted of homing in on Ailsa Craig three or four times a day. One weekend he took ill and was taken by ambulance to Ayr County Hospital where he had his appendix taken out. He almost died because it had perforated and he said the nurses were great and saved his life. He was in the hospital for two weeks and then sent to recover at a big house on the River Doon. This was in 1942. Three years later, when I was eleven, I was rushed from Ayr Academy to Ayr County Hospital with a perforated appendix, had the same operation and was also there for two weeks! We have been meeting for years and it is strange that we hadn’t discovered this connection before.
Bill White, Ottawa, Canada
Railway Request
I would like to know if there has ever been, or will ever be, an article on Scottish railway stations? I would be delighted to see such a piece. Scottish rail travel is world-renowned for its beautiful and elegant scenery (Fort William to Mallaig being an obvious example), so I can only imagine that the country is peppered with railside abodes that are as quaint and picturesque as the journeys themselves.
In my opinion, nothing beats that pre-journey feeling, sipping coffee in a charming little station café, lost in thought and speculating about the stories behind every passenger’s daily commute. Where are they going? Where have they been? Just a passing thought, but surely Scotland has an abundance of charming train stations, each with a story to tell, and I believe this would make a fascinating feature for the magazine.
Colin Simpson, Falkirk
 
Something Similar
I was intrigued to read in January’s issue the recent review of a new book. It recalled the author’s childhood in the Gorbals area of Glasgow in the 1960s. It is titled Gorbals Diehards and reminded me of another book, by John Buchan, author of The 39 Steps. In 1922, he published a novel Huntingtower. It is the first of three novels featuring the adventures of a mystery-solving, recently-retired Glasgow grocer in his fifties – an unlikely hero indeed, but a splendid hero nevertheless – one Dickson McCunn. Throughout this adventurous book, our intrepid grocer is aided and abetted by a small gang of street urchins, boys from a certain area of Glasgow. Their creator, John Buchan, knew them as – “The Gorbals Diehards.”
Marion Shirra, Troon
The Inchcape Rock
I read with pleasure and great interest the story of the Bell Rock Lighthouse. What made it so interesting for me was a poem my grandmother used to recite to me when I was a small child. The poem was called “The Inchcape Rock”, written by Robert Southey.
According to the poem, the Bishop of Aberbrothock had placed a bell on the Inchcape Rock to warn merchant ships of the danger during bad weather. Sir Ralph the Rover cut the bell from the rock and plundered the ships that crashed on the rock. He eventually crashed his own ship on the rock during a gale. I had thought that this poem was just the product of Southey’s imagination until I read the story.
Larry Young, Vernon, British Columbia
 
Headstone
Some 20 years ago, I discovered the grave of one of my great, great grandfathers, Hugh Meikle, in Alloway’s Auld Kirkyard, which had a unique headstone of glazed fireclay, in the shape of a sawn-off tree stump. I have always regretted not having photographed it at the time, because, on a later visit, the headstone had gone completely, and I could not find the grave. Enquiries revealed that the stone had disintegrated, and had had to be removed. The brass plate with the inscription had been saved and was now embedded in a block of stone at the head of the grave, flush with the ground. Imagine my surprise, and pleasure, on opening the January issue of the magazine, to find the picture, illustrating “A Drouthie Crony”, with the old fireclay headstone clearly visible at the extreme right hand edge of the picture. The inscription on the plate is, I feel, worth quoting:
In memory of Hugh Meikle
Died 26th June 1868 Aged 87 years
40 years gamekeeper on the estate of Rozelle
And much respected by his employers
And by all those who appreciated integrity
And uprightness of character.
What an example to me (92),
and to my great-grandson (6 months)!
Dr. David Murray, Perth
The Little Cross on the Glenshee Road
he two-foot high grey granite cross in Geoff Birks’s picture (Scots Magazine, April 2011) lies on the east side of the A93 Blairgowrie to Braemar road at Lair, some six miles south of Spittal of Glenshee. The cross is on a bad bend, with no parking, so few people nowadays ever see it. My spotting of it came two years after Geoff in 1958 during a 14-day lone tour as a 15-year-old. The cross bears an inset panel containing a cutting from a pre-war issue of The Sunday Post, and cross-plus-cutting from a memorial to a young woman killed near this spot in a horse-riding accident. Geoff’s bike lying against the fence behind the cross is worth more than a second look. It’s a beautiful hand-built Hetchins of the 1950s, complete with chromed fork tips, celluloid mudguards, Carradice Camper saddlebag and what appears to be Benelux five-speed gears. This was an era when we cycle tourists managed to go away for a fortnight’s tour with just a saddlebag and no more. I’m ashamed to record that nowadays I never seem to be able to go on tour without a brace of panniers and a handlebar bag!
Gordon Casely, Aberdeen
 
Edinburgh Trams
Further to the letter from Charles Coventry in the April issue, when horse trams became obsolete. Edinburgh opted for the cable traction for their trams while Leith decided on electric power for their system.
This resulted in the notorious “Pilrig Muddle” where all passengers travelling between Edinburgh and Leith had to change trams at Pilrig at the lower end of Leith Walk. The railway writer Sandy Mullay wrote that the situation at Pilrig had the atmosphere of an international frontier! In 1920, the City of Edinburgh and the Burgh of Leith amalgamated and the conversion of the Edinburgh cable system to the more modern and efficient electric power, resulted in through services between Edinburgh and Leith. Many local travellers used the railways between Edinburgh and Leith to avoid the “Pilrig Muddle” and the North British Railway built a new line into Leith in 1903 to reach the huge new Central Station at the foot of Leith Walk to cater for this lucrative business. The Leith Central line was closed to traffic in 1952 but the station building was used for a time for maintenance. It was eventually demolished in 1989.
Hugh Mackenzie, Pitlochry
Memories of Colonsay
The articles in your November 2010 issue, “Joined at the Hip” and “One Man’s Island”, brought back memories of a holiday in 2001, spent on beautiful Colonsay. During our week on the island, my wife and I visited a small cemetery located on its west coast, and as a former naval officer and a naval historian of sorts, I found it to be of great interest. There are approximately 14 graves there, of sailors who lost their lives during the two world wars. The headstones are of the standard military type, as provided by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, and 11of the graves contained the remains of men from the armed merchant cruiser H.M.S. Transylvania, which was sunk by a U-boat in August, 1940. Not all losses were the result of enemy action. One grave was of a merchant seaman who was a member of the crew of S.S. Empire Tiger, bound for the Clyde from Halifax, Nova Scotia, with a cargo of steel. Sailing independently, she was last heard from on February 27, 1941 when she reported being “down by the head, shipping heavy seas, all boats washed away.”
There were no survivors, and she was considered by Lloyd’s to be a Marine Casualty. This lonely little cemetery on Colonsay is indicative of the hazards faced by seamen in the waters off the Western Isles. It is also a reminder of the ultimate price they paid, both those of the Royal Navy and the Merchant Navies, who served their country in both world wars.
Frank Saies-Jones, Alberta, Canada
 
Walks in the Hills
I could relate to Barry Courtney’s letter from Australia when he said that he felt he said he was undertaking a final major walk in his native hills. I did not have far to go, but in 1959 I moved to Wales with my family, just when I was starting to enjoy longer walks in the mountains. Long summer holidays in Arran’s mountains had sewn the seed of interest, and all of Scotland was beckoning! I think that my first walking book which I read, in Wales, was Hamish Brown’s A Walk Through Scotland. How I envied him! In my 60th year, I decided that I wanted to do something just for myself, so I joined an organised walk on the Cape Wrath Trail. This was the kick-start I needed, and I now come to Scotland for walking every year.
I have travelled the world, but there is nothing to compare with queuing up, with your rucksack, for the overnight sleeper in London, knowing that Scotland awaits in the morning. Three years ago my daughter joined me and we started at Tyndrum and finished at Rannoch station. We had 10 days of brilliant weather. Such was the remoteness, beauty and peace of all we had experienced that when we arrived in Fort William we decided against “the highway to Ben Nevis” and carried on down remote Glen Nevis, reasoning that “The Ben will be accessible to me when remoter areas are not.” Some of this same excitement arrives every month with your magazine.
Christine Green, Monmouthshire
Uig Accordion
On our way to visit Uig Bay on the west side of the Isle of Lewis, we came upon the surprising sight of a man playing an accordion in a field by the roadside. On closer inspection it turned out to be a very well dressed dummy complete with peat cutting boots and collar and tie. The true-scale accordion appeared to be made mainly of polystyrene and he was well strapped into his chair, a sensible precaution considering the occasional high winds in this area coming off the Atlantic Ocean. The microphone on a stand appeared to be superfluous but to the very observant it may be intended to connect an amplifier to the high voltage power line carried by the pole alongside the player although this would probably incinerate the dummy, the accordion and anyone else standing nearby. The beach at Uig was magnificent along with the tall wood-carved figure of a Lewis/Uig chessman commemorating the fact that this was the area where almost 100 world famous ivory chess pieces were found. As a final footnote, we spent six glorious days of blue sky and warm sunshine exploring magnificent beaches and coastlines for Port o’ Ness in the north to Scarista in the South.
Charlie Stephen, Aberdeen
 
Canoeing in the Outer Isles
I found two articles of particular interest in a recent issue of The Scots Magazine. One was “Thirteen for Luck”, in which Ian R. Mitchell writes of his difficult walks into Ceann Loch Resort in Harris. It brought back memories of my own walk over Morsgail Muir in 1961 with my friend, the late Joe Reid. However, I think our experience was even harder than his, as we were towing two loaded canoes over the heather behind us! We were on a paddling holiday to the Outer Isles but the weather had not been kind. Our campsite by Loch Roag became so windy that we had to move back to a more sheltered hollow and even then had to build a wall round the tent to deflect the wind. It was obvious that our intended route round Gallan Head and down to the West Coast would be impossible. Keen to progress, we paddled south on Loch Roag, then down Little Loch Roag to its head where we put our sea canoes on their trolleys and headed up the road leading to Morsgail Lodge. After about a mile, the trolleys were no longer practical and we resorted to hauling the canoes, loaded with all our clothes and equipment over the heather one at a time for a few hundred yards, then repeating the process with the second craft. However, descending to the head of Loch Resort was exhilarating. At one point we were running downhill as fast as we could with a careering boat catching up! Fortunately, it stopped when the bow buried itself in a peat hag! Back at sea level we spoke to an elderly lady at Luachair by the head of the loch. I was told later that she and her brother were the only inhabitants left there. The weather during the morning continued wet and still fairly windy. Our campsite received a visit from the folks from Scarp, over to cut peat. With improving weather in the afternoon we paddled over to Scarp and camped overnight there. The paddle round Hushnish Point to West Loch Tarbert was interesting, due to the big swell running. The article prompted me to dig out the old photo album and reminisce.
Duncan Winning, Largs
Tartan Update
It was good to see an article on tartan being aired in the April issue of the magazine, especially as it was centred around that fine Scottish firm of House of Edgar. However, it occurred to me that tartans are not designed by an “Authority” as stated in your piece. They tend to be designed by a person and it would be a shame not to give the designer some credit. A little investigation brought to light that the designer of The Broons and Oor Wullie tartans is none other than Scotland’s pre-eminent tartan designer, Brian Wilton, who is also Director of Operations for the Scottish Tartans Authority based in Crieff. Brian has designed some other fascinating tartans over the past few years. Digging around in the list he gave me I found that Cherie Blair chose Brian’s design for the 2005 international GB summit at Gleneagles. Naming this famous golfers’ paradise prompts me to note commissions to design the tartans for two Ryder Cups, a considerable achievement! Part of Brian’s worldwide dimension included tartans for such varied groups as the Italian City of Florence and the St Andrew’s Society of Singapore. A recent design was created for the Russian Branch of the Scottish family of Learmonth, the Learmontovs. I understand they are having a worldwide family reunion in Scotland later this year. Doubtless there will be many metres of Scottish-designed, Scottish-woven Learmontov tartan making a return trip to the old country. Your tartan-based articles reflect great credit on all aspects of a critically important Scottish industry.
Ian A. McKenzie, Auchterarder
 
Hollywood Scots
Re the article about Scots in Hollywood, in the March issue. Deborah Kerr was, like Jack Buchanan, born in Helensburgh. Her surname is often mispronounced as Karr or Carr without the emphasis on the “e” as in “there”. Another Scot not mentioned in the article was Alec Craig who often used his Scots accent, such as in the Charles Laughton/Clark Gable version of “Mutiny on the Bounty”. Donald Crisp played a Scot in “Challenge to Lassie” which was based on the Greyfriars Bobby story. David Niven claimed a Scottish connection. Prior to Hollywood, he held a commission between the wars in the Highland Light Infantry.
John Thomson, British Columbia
Brigadowner?
In his article in the March issue, Kennedy Wilson came down heavily on the film musical “Brigadoon”, claiming that “any true Scot” would probably moan at the mention of it. Yes, Scotland is not “Brigadoon” and yes, “Brigadoon” is a fable, a fantasy, and he admits that. But how many Scots, “true” or otherwise, have actually seen the movie? Mr Wilson also claims that the film “seems to embody everything that’s wrong with Scottish clichés” and it certainly does have a lot of kilts and misty Celtic twilight. But it is honest, and even self-effacing about that. As modern US tourists Tommy Allbright and Jeff Douglas stroll into the mysterious village, Tommy remarks, “Funny clothes they wear around here” to which Jeff responds, “Maybe this is the day they take pictures for postcards.” Then there is a moan from Mr Wilson, that “ It certainly has no memorable songs”. How about “It’s Almost Like Being In Love” or even “The Heather on the Hill”? The “Brigadoon” stage show ran for almost 600 performances – not quite “Phantom of the Opera” level, but not bad either.
David Taylor, South Gloucestershire
 
Medallion
I have in my possession a silver medallion on a silver chain, which was presented to my great great grandfather in 1848. The front says, “Presented to John Stewart for Best Attired Highlander by the PHFS”. I’m guessing that the “P” is for Perth or Perthshire, since he lived in Aberfeldy. The reverse consists of three honeybees. John Stewart was born at Aberfeldy in 1825, son of William Stewart, elder brother of Dr William Stewart who served as a medical officer in the Crimean War, and who was then sent to Paraguay by the Crown to assist in the training of military doctors and field hospital personnel.
Dr Stewart became rather wealthy through some interesting transactions that involved his brother, Robert, who was manager of the Edinburgh branch of the Bank of Scotland. He managed to somewhat restore the fortunes of that Stewart family. He died in Buenos Aires. John was an engineer who built iron bridges, most notable being one across the Spey at Grantown, then went to Canada then to Washington, DC, where he became Superintendent of Parks, and designer of several extant parks. He also served as Consul General of Paraguay for a brief period. He died in Washington, DC and is buried there.
George Hemmingway, Oregon
Coastal Path
I was very pleased to see the recent article by Keith Fergus about the Ayrshire Coastal Path. A small group of us, sponsored by Stranraer Rotary Club, decided to fill the 11-mile gap between the end of the Ayrshire path at Glen App church and the Southern Upland Way near Stranraer. The Loch Ryan Coastal Path was opened on August 9, 2009, by Alex Fergusson, MSP. It follows a route up the eastern side of Loch Ryan and along the hills on the southern side of Glen App.
The lochside part of the path follows a line of military history – from prehistoric to possibly Roman times – passes a Norman Motte, and follows quite closely part of the route taken by the only General Wade military road in the south of Scotland. Just north of the village, Cairnryan, the path leaves the shoreline and goes steeply up the Old Coach Road, at one time the main road, to the top of Laight Hill, where there is the Taxing Stane, a standing stone said to commemorate the murder of King Alpin in Glen App in AD 741. After another four miles through Glen App the path drops down the hillside to finish at Glen App church.We felt it necessary to explain the remaining fragments of activity around the path, so have erected 10 information boards along the way. We have recently heard of people walking the path in order to learn the history explained on these boards! At present, we are looking into the possibility of opening up a route joining these paths to the Mull of Galloway – The Mull of Galloway Trail!
Archie Bell, Stranraer
 
Pawprints In The Snow
Cameron McNeish’s article on the Highland Tiger in the May issue stirred up once again my unfulfilled, life-long ambition to see a wildcat. I love cats of all descriptions and being temporarily incapacitated and confined to the house, it set me longing again to see a grumpy-faced, striped cat with its ears laid flat. So, as I can’t go out to the hills just now, the next best thing was to look through some old photos to get a breath of fresh air that way. Imagine my surprise when studying a photo of me, taken up Beinn Bhreac in Glen Douglas and looking towards Ben Lomond, there behind me were footprints in the snow. So, is it possible that although I have never seen a Highland Tiger, on that day in 1990, one saw me?
Cynthia Green, Helensburgh
Battle of Harlaw
I refer to the caption below the photograph of Major Sir Lachan Maclean of Duart, Bt., and David Irvine of Drum in Ian Olson’s article (June 2011) about the Battle of Harlaw in 1411. The caption stated that both gentlemen are descended from the Maclean and Irvine combatants who slew each other at Harlaw. In fact, when Sir Alexander Irvine was killed at Harlaw, he was newly married and the marriage had not been consummated which allowed his “widow” to marry his younger brother, Robert, later also known as Alexander and knighted for helping to arrange the release of James I from captivity in England in 1424. Accordingly, the present-day David Irvine, 26th of Drum is descended from the younger brother and not from the elder brother who was killed at Harlaw.
Dr Alexander S. Waugh, Banchory

Dr Ian Olson responds:
Dr Waugh accurately recounts the facts of the legend, although it was one which was confabulated many centuries after the battle. The Alexander Irvine who fell at Harlaw is also documented as being succeeded by a son, also Alexander, whose marriage contract in the October after the battle makes no mention of his having romantically changed his name from Robert (or John in some versions of the story) nor of the bride being a virgin widow of a deceased brother. Indeed, he and his brother Robert are recorded afterwards as both flourishing. Hence my describing the present Baron of Drum as a descendant of the valiant Harlaw combatant. But as one Irvine family historian has complained bitterly, “much has been written about that battle, and some of it is pure fiction”.
 
Railway Lines
I refer to the letter about railway stations by Colin Simpson. Books on railways and, to a lesser extent, stations are countless and continue to appear in print. Stations have been tackled admirably in The Scots Magazine. I recall articles by Dr Ann Glen (Airdrie), the late John Rundle and an expert on photography from Linlithgow, Roddy Simpson. Gordon Caseley (Aberdeen) has written, too, and I do expect one such detailing the former branch line and stations from Newton Stewart to Whithorn since he has had a photograph of mine for years intended to illustrate a point in the text. When will that appear? Mr Simpson might like to visit the W.H. Smith store in Falkirk High Street and search out the transport section where a good range of current railway magazines, touching on the vast stations subject, can be found.
J. Stevenson, Bo’ness
Disabled Access
I currently do voluntary work for a Fife-based social enterprise which is aimed at removing the many challenges facing disabled travellers who visit Scotland, or as is the case for many, prevents them from visiting Scotland. One week my disabled husband and I spent a few days in Glenmoriston researching accommodation in the Inverness, Fort William and Skye areas for our database. Many of the places we visited are already well set up for disability and some are extremely proactive. Unfortunately, equally as many showed a complete disregard for accessibility and a total lack of knowledge of the Disability Discrimination Act. The disabled community is the largest minority group in the world with a disposable income of many billions of pounds. If we can just spread the message that disability isn’t a barrier to coming here, not only will the disabled community benefit but so too will the Scottish economy. Through our social enterprise “Scotiability”, I want Scotland to become the world leader in making tourism available to everyone regardless of their physical condition. Unfortunately, with so many of Scotland’s service providers living in the dark ages, this is an uphill struggle. I am sure we could reverse this mindset to the benefit of the travelling disabled community and the Scottish tourism economy in general.
Irene Laker, Carnock
 
Paul Tattersall
It was good to see the cycle-Munroist Paul Tattersall feature by Cameron McNeish in the June issue. In my ascents of many Munros in 1989, I was intrigued to come across tyre tracks right across Scotland. Paul and I finally met in May that year during our individual ascents of Meall Chuaich, the 3210-ft lumpy Munro in Drumochter – and what a pleasant and engaging you man he proved to be. As a lifelong cyclist myself, we had much to share, quite apart from Munros both done and still to be conquered. I was particularly taken with his account of his traverse of the Aonach Eagach ridge in Glencoe, bike strapped to his rucksack. In turn, Paul heard about my only “biked Munro”, an ascent of Ben Lomond from the north side to the summit and then down to Rowardennan with one of my two racing bikes, a lightweight fixed wheel model. The run was undertaken on the shortest day of 1961, and included 70 miles on the road out and back from Glasgow.
Gordon Casely, Aberdeen
Sussex Success
I was born in Edinburgh many years ago, so was brought up with The Sunday Post and Oor Wullie and The Broons. Then I went off to Canada for 10 years, the United States for another 25 years and spent 6 years in the Middle East before retirement. We settled in West Sussex and I visited nearby Brighton last week at which time I discovered and purchased The Scots Magazine. I found it extremely interesting, particularly the article on Barra, my clan homeland.
We have quite a few Scots in our golf club down here from places such as Aberdeen, Glasgow, Perth, Ayr, Coatbridge and Inverness. I have passed your magazine on to them as they, like me, were unaware of its existence. So now you know in future that one Brighton newsagent will be getting a few more visits. Congratulations on your quality-produced magazine.
Ian R. McNeill, Hurstpierpont, West Sussex
 
Clyde and the Cumbraes
Your recent issue fairly took my mind back to my boyhood, first when as a lad I spent some holidays in Marble Lodge with a relation who was a gamekeeper there, and secondly at Killiecrankie where I helped in the “guides” shop , which was on the site of what is now the National Trust for Scotland office. Next, photographs of Millport reminded me of the time I had spent there as the last Town Clerk where my first task had been to update the previous five years’ financial records. Once this task had been disposed of, I found I had the spare time to write what turned out to be my first book on local history, which in this case, covered Millport and the Cumbraes. Some other books I have produced also dealt with aspects of the Cumbrae islands but my work has covered several other areas with which I had some connection. My research for these put me in touch with the “Ballast Trust” in Johnston, which, in essence, is a branch of the Scottish Record Office. The gentleman in charge there was Dr Bill Lind, whose father in war time had been one of the volunteers at the Clyde River Patrol. As there had been no special record prepared of their doings, he took it on himself to build up the necessary information such a manuscript would need.
J.R.D. Campbell, Largs
Moray Coast
Reading your article on the Moray coast in the April issue, I rewind to the 70s and 80s. Hopeman was a great place to go. After an 8-hour journey we reached our destination and met the same families, on the same weeks, year after year. We stayed at Hopeman Lodge which had a 200-yard track to a great beach. Each morning, a daily walk was taken to the local baker’s across the beach to fetch our fresh bread. I have great memories of the area and some of my family still return. I remember sitting at Kinloss watching Nimrod, and I remember RAF Lossiemouth with its fighter jets. Forres and Findhorn Bay were also great – Forres was always full of bloom and Findhorn Bay has memories of bags of chips watching the sunset over the bay. There was absolutely loads to do and some people don’t know what they’re missing out on by not making a visit. The locals are really friendly and make you feel very welcome.
S. Smith, Chesterfield
 
Wind turbines
There is proposed nine-turbine wind farm some one to two kilometres from the Clachan Bridge, which is an A-Listed industrial monument, and joins the Isle of Seil to the mainland. It is much loved by countless tourists and locals and is known also as The Bridge Over The Atlantic. There are also several houses in the village of Clachan Seil within the same catchment area. Renewable Energy Foundation informs me that even running at 25 per cent efficiency, which is more or less above average, it will contribute 0.005 per cent of the total UK power consumption per year. Meanwhile they estimate we will contribute a subsidiary of over £800,000 each year. Is this not a scandal? It goes without saying that the nine turbines, 256 feet to the top tip of the blades, the roads, the sub-station on site and the overhead lines to the Kilninver substation will be rather visible in an area of “sensitive countryside”. Also, Visit Scotland states in writing that these “reactive and piecemeal” developments of wind farms must stop. In this case I am sure you will agree that the disadvantages far outweigh the advantages to us all – except to the developer, that is!
G.W. Stewart, Seil Island, Argyll
Holidaying with the Rogersons
Memories came flooding back when I read Bruce Rogerson’s tales of caravanning in the 50s, as we were their near neighbours in Edinburgh. With a terminally ill mother needing all my father’s attention, one of my brothers and myself were taken down by train to stay with them when their caravan was based at Whitekirk. I shall never forget the experience – the excitement of staying in the caravan – the toilet fascinated me with its blue water! My husband and I subsequently lived in North Berwick for 24 years, bringing up a family of three boys, and I am sure I bored them rigid with tales of my youth. I hope this can be taken as a “thank you” to the Rogerson family for leaving me with such good memories of what, in fact, was not really a great time for our family. I shall pass on the article to the brother, Nigel, who was with me and who is now an Emeritus Professor of Geography in Nevada, and have told my other brother Geoff, a very active committee member of the Camping and Caravan Club in Scotland.
Jackie Stewart, Comrie
 
Another Small World
Bill White’s letter, published in the May issue, told of a surprising coincidence. In 1954 I was honoured to be selected to represent the 69th Glasgow Company of the Boys’ Brigade at the Founders Centenary Camp, which was held on the playing fields of Eton College. The camp was attended by some 2,000 boys from many countries. Twelve years ago, after 30 years teaching Physics at Kings College, Auckland, I retired and my wife and I moved to the South Island. I became treasurer of the Waimakariri Branch of the New Zealand Society of Genealogists and found myself working alongside one of the group’s founder members, Jack Haworth. He mentioned that he had been a member of the Boys Brigade and had been chosen to be one of the New Zealand contingent at the Founder’s Centenary Camp. I am sure that all who were there in 1954 remember the spirited haka performed by the New Zealanders. It was fascinating to learn about the month-long voyage on SS Australis to Genoa followed by a 10-day tour from Italy to Holland and the many interesting visits arranged for the Kiwi group during their stay in Britain. Their journey to the camp seemed much more exciting than our overnight train trip from Glasgow Central to Euston.
Donald Jeffrey, Rangiora, New Zealand
Back To Clydesdales
One of the many interesting things in The Scots Magazine that really appeal to me are little bits of information. This time it came from the Scottish Bookshelf about the Clydesdale. About 74 years ago, at the age of 14, I worked three extremely faithful Clydesdales. I used to spend all my available time at Greenlaw Farm on the Stewarton Road, Newton Mearns, the farmer being Allan Green. After pottering about the farm for a year, one winter’s morning I harnessed the three Clydesdales ready for the plough and then led them to the field. These were Steve, a black gelding, Blossom, an overweight mare, and “Grandma”. Unfortunately, I can’t remember her name. Allan was already in the field awaiting my arrival. The team was hitched, Steve on the off side, Blossom in the centre, and “Grandma” on the near side. Allan lined the plough up with the next furrow, turned to me and handing over the reins said, “Go ahead, that’s your job for the morning.”
Having watched ploughing in the past, I gritted my teeth and thought to myself, “I’ll show him!” Grasping the reins and the plough I clicked my tongue to start the horse-power working. I got up to the other end leaving a wobbly furrow, thanks to the horses who knew a lot more about working a plough than I did.
On looking back, Allan had gone, my initiation into the art of furrowing completed. After that first morning the results must have been reasonable as no comment was ever made, and thereafter many a field was furrowed.
Although a petrol/paraffin tractor appeared on the farm in 1939, the Clydesdales were kept on, doing their share of the work.
Tom Broomfield, Kaiapoi, New Zealand
 
The Bell Rock Lighthouse
Having read with a great deal of interest the articles about the Bell Rock Lighthouse and the bicentenary celebrations (February issue), I was reminded of the poem by Robert Southey, read to my class at school in South Africa by our English teacher almost 60 years ago. I was also under the impression that the Inchcape Rock was a product of the poet’s imagination so I was intrigued to learn that it actually existed. Piqued by all the interest in the bicentenary of the lighthouse, I determined to experience this for myself. I thereupon booked a holiday in Scotland for my wife and myself during June of this year. On arrival at Edinburgh I contacted Alex Smith who had advertised boat trips out to the lighthouse. He obligingly organised a trip for us and constantly kept in touch to ensure that we would not miss out on the experience. When we eventually came in sight of the lighthouse I was immediately overawed by its startling beauty amid its isolated surroundings and by the colossal engineering feat required for its construction. Imagine my absolute frustration when, in attempting to photograph it, I discovered that the batteries of my camera had suddenly died on me. The situation, however, was saved for us by Alex and David who took a number of excellent photographs on their own cameras and emailed them to us on our return to South Africa – an example of genuine Scottish generosity and help which we had encountered on numerous occasions during our visit. Thanks to Alex and his crew, the Bell Rock Lighthouse experience will live in our memories for years to come.
Brian Buch, Pretoria, South Africa
Clachtoll
Imagine our delight, having booked a holiday in Sutherland for June 2011, to read the article by Nick Drainey in that month’s issue. The article was so interesting we couldn’t wait to visit Clachtoll. So one Sunday, a truly glorious day, we drove to this beautiful beach and followed the walk suggested. We were only a short way into it when we met a couple from Leicestershire who were on the return leg of the circuit and, on seeing The Scots Magazine in my husband’s hand, laughingly stopped us. They too were carrying their copy of the magazine and were following the directions as laid out in the article. They were going on to visit The Old Man Of Stoer as was our intention later in the day. We continued on our way and got as far as the Iron Age Broch when we got speaking to another couple who told us they had motored over from Invergordon, because they too had read this same article. We found this to be quite amazing. The only people we met in Clachtoll were there because of Nick Drainey!
Rita Henderson, Glasgow
 
Caravan Boy
I was very interested in Bruce Rogerson’s article "The Caravan Boys" in the July 2011 issue for two reasons: I have known Bruce for over 30 years, and not once have we talked about our childhood caravan holidays. I first met Bruce in Brussels, Belgium in 1977 or 1978 when I joined the European division of the Canadian company where Bruce worked in San Francisco. Yes, two Scotsmen met in Belgium while working for a Canadian company based in San Francisco. Our friendship grew after 1979 when I was transferred to San Francisco and we began regular dinner (and wine) meetings with other Scottish friends. Together we attended Scottish Games here in California and saw our families grow up, get married and have children. We have continued our friendship through retirement and now live almost four hours apart in California. My other reason for interest was the similarity of our caravan holidays in Scotland, although I lived in Stirling, and our destination was always Arbroath and the Elliot Caravan site. Well I remember the sound of rain on the roof of the caravan, the coastal defences along the beaches, the miniature train rides with Dad and Granny, the great sights and smells of Arbroath Harbour and the resulting fish and chips followed by a “99” at one of the many cafes.
I returned to Arbroath with my wife, daughter, son-in-law and grandson in 2008, and the visit to the Abbey and the stirring words of the Declaration of Arbroath meant a lot to a Scot living abroad.
Allan Purves, California
Rothiemurchus
As a stravaiger myself over Scotland, I am enjoying Cameron McNeish’s current series on his long trek from the Border to the North. He speculated (on page 33 of the August issue) on the derivation of this great forest’s name. It is an anglicised derivation from the Gaelic “Rathad mor ghiuthsach” meaning “the path through the big pine forest” and referring to the famous track leading into the Lairig Ghru from the north. This was explained to me years ago by a dear old friend of ours, Mrs Garrow, who lived in a timber cottage near Coylumbridge at the start of the route from the north. Modern place names in our country are often anglicised from ancient Gaelic roots.
Eric Drew, Killearn
 
Recalling the Great War
I was interested to read the article article about the First World War in “Roots and Branches”, in the September issue. The photograph showed the 4th Battalion Black Watch, Dundee’s Own, which was decimated at the Battle of Loos on September 25, 1915, entraining at Tay Bridge Station, Dundee, en route to France in February, 1915. My father was a member of that battalion and he fought with them at Neuve Chappelle, at Festubert, was gassed at Ypres and was badly wounded at Loos. He was caught on the German wire which had not been cut by the initial bombardment and lay there for a day and a night before he was pulled back by a friend who was awarded the Military Medal for his bravery. His leg wound took over nine months to heal and amputation was at one time contemplated. But I remember him telling me that an elderly surgeon had said that it would heal – and it did. He was never fit enough to return to the front line and when it was realised that he was an engineer, he was transferred to the Royal Engineers. Despite having being gassed at Ypres he lived until he was 81.
Allan Brand, Nova Scotia
Scientific square
I enjoyed your article about the leading scientists who worked and lived close to Glasgow University. However, there is one man whose name did not appear and whose work has not received the recognition that it should have. His name is Professor Ian Donald and it was he, while working in the wards of the Western Infirmary in Glasgow in the early 1950s, who developed the sonar device that is used in almost every pregnancy to determine the baby’s sex. The device is, of course, called ultrasound. Professor Donald and a young man from the Physics Department of the University, Tom Brown, worked together in developing the instrument for this use and I believe they would have won a Nobel prize for their efforts, except that the original work on sonar was done way back in the 1800s and many had worked on other uses for it – submarine detection, for instance. Nevertheless, he did his work in that special square mile and his name should be remembered. I graduated from Glasgow University in 1951 and was a student there when Professor Donald was doing his interesting work.
Douglas Gebbie, Naples, Florida
 
I carried the door
It was good to see the Hutchison Memorial Hut featuring on the cover of the September issue, especially since it brought back happy memories from 60 years ago of the building of the original hut. Friends in the Etchachan Club invited me to help build it in Corrie Etchachan, so we all set off one summer weekend for Bob Scott’s at Derry Lodge. As we drove up Deeside, the clouds gathered from the west and it was raining by the time we reached Derry Lodge. But “were we down-hearted?” asked Jimmy Chivas as he commandeered me and two other lads to carry the door of the hut with him and we four set off for the three miles up to the corrie. We were soaked through in no time at all! We were, however, cheered on by Jimmy’s exhortation that we could tell our grandchildren that “I Carried The Door” as we trudged through the shin-high heather on the roughest route imaginable. In fact, we were so wet and the ground was so rough, that the smoothest path was up the middle of a stream! It’s a reflection on the resilience of youth that we all recovered from our soaking with little or no ill effects, but with a precious memory of a marvellous day high in the hills.
Alastair Nicol, Sutton Coldfield
Oldest subscriber?
My family and I now reside in Waikanae, in the North Island of New Zealand. Before I got married, my name was Jean McMillan McDougall, and I lived in Jordanhill on the outskirts of Glasgow, with my father and Aunt Jean, my mother having died at my birth. As a young girl, the publications we had delivered from the local newsagent were: The Scots Magazine and World Wide magazine (for Dad), The People’s Friend (Aunt Jean) and Chicks’ Own, later to be replaced by Girl’s Own, for myself. Into my teens, I also succumbed to the interesting articles in The Scots Magazine. This pleasure, apart from a brief interlude during the War years, has continued ever since. The only difference in deliveries is the destination. I am 85 years old, so perhaps could be your longest living subscriber. When my husband collects mail from the box, there is always a grin on his face when he announces: “Here’s your comic!” Thank you for continuing to give me news on current happenings as well as recalling happy days back home. With each new delivery, I exclaim: “Do you mind the time we went to ...?”
Jean M. Brown, New Zealand
 
Arran clearances
I am President of the Caledonian Society of Restigouche, and am passionate about promoting Scottish culture in northern New Brunswick. My most recent undertaking is to launch a fund-raising campaign to erect a monument in memory of the original Scottish settlers to the region.In researching my ancestors, I discovered that a large number arrived in the region as a result of the Arran Clearances of 1829-1840. This was an expulsion of Scottish farmers from the island as the Duke of Hamilton merged their smaller farms to create larger units, thus displacing many families. They came to Canada in boatloads, the largest group of more than 400 landing in Dalhousie, New Brunswick, to be pioneer settlers of the Restigouche-Bay Chaleur District. Monuments marking the experiences of such displaced peoples have been erected elsewhere, such as in Megantic County, Quebec, and Lamlash on Arran (raised in 1977 with the help of the Caledonian Society of Restigouche). In 2007, a sculpture called The Emigrants was forged in Helmsdale, Sutherland, and duplicated in Winnipeg, Manitoba, in honour of similar Highland Clearances.
I have contacted the Scottish foundry who cast the two Emigrant monuments, Black Isle Bronze, with the hopes of having a reproduction erected in Campbellton. Our Caledonian Society is working on erecting a monument to the 400 settlers from the Arran clearances.
James Thompson, New Brunswick
Magical Matjiesfontein
I read with great interest Janet Traill’s article on the Laird of Matjiesfontein, James Logan, in your September issue. This brought back fond memories for me as I visited the town in December 2007 on a walking holiday. This photo was taken after an early morning walk on the Karoo to see a typical African sunrise, but due to cloud cover we were not able to enjoy this. However, we spent an interesting morning searching the area that had been occupied by the troops at the time of the Boer War (we were looking for munitions or old pieces of military regalia). We found none but there was still plenty of evidence of the troops having been there, like rusty tin cans for bully beef. My travelling companions and I stayed two nights at the Lord Milner Hotel which was interesting to say the least, with no air conditioning or drinkable tap water, but we entered into the spirit of things accepting that was how things were at the beginning of the 20th century and realising it would be criminal to try to modernise the hotel. The food, however, was excellent. On a final note, while we were there we were taken for a spin on an old London bus courtesy of one of the local lads, on a piece of waste ground adjacent to the railway station.
Bill Kinnear, Burghead, Moray
 
St Kilda Experience
Many years ago, while serving in the RAF, a group of us were posted to St Kilda to build a road from the beach to the top of a mountain, where a rocket tracking station was to be constructed. The supply boat came weekly, depending on the weather, but the thing that really kept morale up was mail from home and the prospect of a week’s leave. On a clear evening, it was wonderful to climb to a high point on the hills to sit and admire the spectacular view. You could see as far as North Uist and pick out the odd ship on the horizon. The east-facing cliffs were said to be the highest in the UK, dropping 1,600 feet to the sea below. The wild life on the island was (and no doubt still is) something you have to see to appreciate, with gannets diving for fish, puffins and cormorants, the sheep and goats scampering along cliff edges, the St Kilda wren, tiny hopping mice and large eels in the stream are things I shall always remember. I have lots of good memories of my four months living on the island, and although it was fifty-four years ago, it seems like just the other day.
Terry Brock, Norwich
Husbands Found!
The article about bothies in your September edition took me back about 70 years. My father, Bill Barron, was for a time secretary of the Glasgow branch of the Holiday Fellowship, an organisation devoted to enjoyment of the great outdoors, and I enjoyed many weekend climbs with him. Nicknamed the “HF”, the Holiday Fellowship was alternately known as “Husbands Found” since so many single ladies found their life partners within its membership! This was the case with my parents, who married in June, 1931, and spent their honeymoon tramping in the Cairngorms. My mother recalled that it rained for most of the week, and that a soggy kilt was very slow to dry out. But she was grateful for the shelter of the bothies, even although she never knew when another drenched hiker would stumble in the door! The enclosed photo was taken by my father, and shows a happy group of HF climbers on one of their weekend climbs in the 1930s.
Sheila Watt, Ontario, Canada
 
Misplaced Notion
I am an American of Scots descent. My wife and I have visited Scotland many times and will do so again in May, 2012. I have for many years subscribed to your fine magazine, as well as to other Scottish-themed publications. I thoroughly enjoy each issue and pass them on to a friend from Stirling, now living here in Kentucky, who anxiously awaits each copy. The funny thing I have found over the years of subscribing to many magazines is that I reach a point where I think I should drop one and try something new. I had reached that point with yours when I received the October 2011 issue. Well, I will forget that misplaced notion! What an outstanding magazine and so many fine articles –The Auld Alliance, Scots of Note, Celtic Connections, Roots & Branches etc. Perhaps I should drop one of the other magazines?
Fon Rogers, Kentucky, USA
Bus Stop
Mark Neilson, in his splendid item “On The Buses” (Scots Magazine, November, 2011), quotes bus restorer Ian Walker as saying that old buses sometimes turn up in fields and farms. During a cycle tour in the summer of 2010, two of us came upon what is certainly an old MacBrayne’s bus, one which appears to be a Maudsley. If Ian is interested in restoring it, then I promise him both a distant journey and a long restoration. The bus lies abandoned within the croft at Glame, high in the hills of the west side of Raasay, directly across from Portree on Skye.
“MacBrayne’s for the Highlands!” read the slogan on the back ends of MacBrayne’s buses in the 1950s. Will this particular bus ever run in the Highlands again? Given its condition, I wouldn’t lay odds on it – though I’m only too ready to be proved wrong by the sterling work undertaken by Ian Walker and his fellow devoted bus enthusiasts.
Gordon Casely, Aberdeen
 
The Great Gibson
Oh, what happy memories that the October Scots Magazine brought back, with the article on the Royal Scottish National Orchestra.
As a 10-year-old, in 1962, I went to Scottish Opera’s first ever production – “Madam Butterfly”, conducted by Alexander Gibson. I wish I had kept that programme! I was hooked for life. Their production of “Boris Godunov” gave me a lifelong love of Russian Opera. At Clydebank High, while studying music, I spent many a happy evening either in the front row of the Glasgow Proms at the Kelvin Hall, rattling a tin to collect for the Malcolm Sargent Children’s Cancer Fund (now CLIC Sargent) or hanging around the stage door for the Scottish Opera productions at the Kings Theatre in Glasgow. Those were the days! Gibson was one of the “greats” in championing Sibelius, and I heard all his symphonies and still love them, thanks to Sir Alex. His Viennese Prom was always a delight and he knew how to conduct dance and ballet music properly, unlike many orchestral conductors, after being conductor for Saddlers Wells Ballet. He was also kind to us as youngsters, often chatting to us after the concert. I remember John Lill playing all the Beethoven piano concerti with the SNO, Paul Tortelier’s long collaborations with the orchestra, singing through his teeth as he played, and Shura Cherkassky dividing his bouquet of roses and passing them out to us on the front row as promers. I cherished that rose for a long time.
When Sir Alex died it was so sad. By then I was living in London. My brother wrote to tell me, as he was manager of the crematorium where Sir Alex’s funeral was held. Such happy memories of a man who lifted opera and orchestral playing in Glasgow to world status in the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s.
Moira Kleissner, Ipswich
Piping Memories
The mention in the October issue of the founder of the Dundee Festival of Remembrance, Alastair Mahady, brought back memories of 65 years ago. In April, 1946, Ali and I attended a month-long pipers’ course with Willie Ross at Edinburgh Castle, just before he started courses for prospective pipe-majors. A later course was attended by Dick Ericson, before he was appointed pipe-major for the 1st Black Watch prior to their departure for Korea. Local band members were Argyll’s Willie McQuillan from Port Glasgow and Jim Mckenzie from Stirling. Dundee members were Jimmy Peters, Dave Dewar, Eck Lee and Dave Wilkie, who joined the staff of DC Thomson shortly after his demob. The only drummers I can remember were Frank Strachan from Dundee and Jockie Graham from Kirriemuir. Unfortunately I lost touch with most of them when I returned to civvy street.
Peter White, Coupar Angus
 
Where Is Callander?
I have just read “Heading to the Highlands” in the August issue, and note that Cameron McNeish makes the mistake of placing Callander in Stirlingshire. It may be part of Stirling District for administrative purposes but it is certainly not in Stirlingshire. He is not the only one to make this mistake as BBC Scotland (with all their researchers) continually do the same and should know better. I lived in Doune, went to school in Callander and it was in Perthshire in those days and unless there has been a shift in the Earth’s crust, it should still be there. All our school books and jotters were headed “Perth and Kinross Education Department”. The demarcation for most of the Stirlingshire/ Perthshire boundary is the River Forth. All points north from Dunblane Westwards were in Perthshire with the River Allan providing part of the boundary in the Bridge of Allan area.
I may sound a bit pedantic, but for us who know those old counties, it does grind a bit when we hear basic Scottish geography quoted incorrectly. If you are going to use area designation, be sure to use either the new region and district or the older county names.
Bill Stirling, Mallorca, Spain
Blanket Coverage
Having read your excellent magazine for many years, I tend to flick through back numbers. Because my ancestors in Sanquhar and Kirkconnel were in the wool trade, I am always interested in that subject and the article “Sanquhar, a Stitch in Time” in December, 1998, caught my eye. It mentioned a Jessie McCall, of the Temperance Hotel, a relative of mine who was an expert knitter of Sanquhar gloves and connected with the Crawick woollen mills. She was related to my grandfather’s grandfather, John McCall, a shepherd in Fingland Farm, Kirkconnel, who supplied wool to the Crawick mills.
Then this year my eye caught an advert in The Scots Magazine for tartans woven from alpaca wool. I followed this up and am now the proud possessor of a beautiful blanket woven from the wool (a cheaper substitute for kashmir). It is gorgeous and unique, the only McCall tartan blanket woven from alpaca wool in the whole wide world. My great, great grandfather would have been excited at this product and jealous of the high quality. Maybe one day we shall see alpacas grazing round the Sanquhar hills. My blanket is now destined to be a McCall family heirloom.
John M. McCall, Balcombe, Sussex
 
In Praise of Feshie
My interest in Glen Feshie goes back to 1943, when for 10 weeks I was a cadet officer in 2 Company, under the command of Lt Col Lord Rowallan. Our operation was named Highland Fieldcraft Training Centre, and provided special development training and appraisal for potential officers. Within the forest area was a camp for Newfoundland lumberjacks. At that time, Newfoundland was not a part of Canada so the men proudly wore British khaki with shoulder flashes identifying them as ”Newfoundland Home Guard”. They were great guys! There was a wooden bridge leading to our camp (2 Company) and the base of 1 Company. There was also a crude shelter for a small detachment of Lovat Scouts. They seemed to be mainly men who were, before the war, poachers or ghillies. I never met men who have impressed me more! Finally – and this may be the strangest of all Feshie’s wartime occupants – was a team of Canadian Dog Sleds, quiet during the daytime but they could make an awful noise at night! I visited Feshie again about 30 years ago and found it to be truly beautiful even without my personal history.
Jeff Rawbotham, Gordon, Australia
Lomond Views
As a regular reader of The Scots Magazine, I find some of the snippets and stories very interesting. However, on reading the December issue and Euan MacPherson’s article on Loch Lomond the song, I thought best to point out one or two things. Euan claims that “there were no Scots left in Carlisle to be captured” following the retreat of the Jacobite army back over the border. Townley’s Manchester regiment formed only part of the garrison left to face Cumberland on December 30, 1745. It’s my understanding that a company of Gordon of­ Glenbucket’s regiment, two companies of the Duke of Perth’s regiment, part of Avochie’s Strathbogie battalion under the command of John Hamilton, who was governor of the garrison, and a small number of men of Ogilvy’s Forfarshire regiment were also left in Carlisle Castle. As well as those left behind for capture, execution or transportation, many were to be taken from Scotland to suffer the same fate as at Carlisle following the quelling of the uprising. One of the most prominent of these was Major Donald MacDonell of Tirnadris, hero of Highbridge, captured at Falkirk and transported to Carlisle, where he was executed and his head hung from the gates of the town for years to come. There should be no reason therefore to doubt any speculation that the song Loch Lomond could have been composed by Scots prisoners in the gloom of a Carlisle Castle prison in 1746.
Stewart Connor, Isle of Canna
 
Warrior Queen
The article, “The Warrior Queen” (November 2011 issue), describing the legend of the Sgathach, on the Isle of Skye, was a fascinating insight into Celtic mythology. However, the author has mixed up the “bolgs”. (pronounced bolug).This word in modern Irish translates as belly. The weapon given to the warrior Cuchulainn was the Gae Bolg, which translates as “belly-spear”, not the Firbolg. The Firbolg were a mythical race of people. A Firbolg seems to signify “bag-men”, on account of their being made to carry bags of earth during enslavement, prior to their coming to Ireland. The mighty fort of Dun Aengus, on Inis Mor, the largest of the Aran Islands off the coast of Galway, is said to have been a Firbolg fort. They were driven to the very edge of Ireland. A bronze statue of Cuchulainn, with the crow Morrigan on his shoulder, is in the GPO in Dublin. Morrigan is a form of the Goddess of War, Death and Slaughter in Irish Mythology. The statue commemorates the 1916 Easter Rising in which the GPO featured prominently. Fionn MacCumhail was the chief of the Fianna, not the Fiennes as stated. The word Fianna is used in the modern political party Fianna Fail, Soldiers of Destiny. However, don’t let these couple of points detract from a fascinating article. What I love about Scotland and Ireland, when I am there, is the feeling that these mythic heroes trod those hills!
Vivien McGaughey, Auckland, New Zealand
Ghillies in Glen Esk
My sister sees to it that I am in possession of The Scots Magazine and, as one would expect, every now and then there is something of particular interest. In the October issue for me there was something ­– Andy Malcolm’s “Game On”. The photograph that made me raise both eyebrows was the one taken at Invermark Lodge in Glen Esk and I would be interested to know how or where Mr Malcolm found the photo. He speaks of “our local museum” and I wonder if it could be the Retreat in Glen Esk, or could he be a descendant of someone in the photo? I have a similar photo dating back to 1912 and our father is in both. In the magazine, he is a younger man sitting to the right of the young boy in the middle row. Mr Malcolm wondered if he’d been the first to be in such and such a spot but it would be a stretch to say that the stalkers and ghillies in the photo covered “every inch” of the estate – but it would be gie near it! Some of Mr Malcolm’s words set off a bout of nostalgia when he writes of stalkers of bygone days, tweeds, miles in hobnail boots and coarse-spun plus-fours. I date back long enough to have seen the last of them. Then fast forward to a bipod, computer, designed camouflage, hi-tech props and 4-wheel drives which were all non-existent in the “grim-faced ghillies and stern stalkers” day. I appreciate Andy Malcolm’s last words and like him, I must remember “I’ve never had it so good”. My brother and sister are still in Glen Esk, and live about six miles away from where that photo was taken.
Jim Davidson, Payette, Idaho, USA
 
A Mighty Milne
In the article “The Great Tay Whalers” in your July 2011 issue, mention was made of Captain Milne and his ship Eclipse. This was Captain William Fraser Milne, my second cousin. Of added interest is the fact that he gave valuable information regarding the Arctic seas to Nansen and to Amundsen, whereby Amundsen learned how to sail his ship through the Northwest Passage as he did in 1905 – the first ship to do so. In recognition of this, Amundsen named several places on Baffin Island – Milne Inlet, Eclipse Sound, Tay Sound and, on the east coast of Greenland, is Milne Island. For the same reason the King of Norway conferred upon Captain Milne the Order of Saint Olaf.
William R. Milne, Vancouver
Gowrie Pioneer
It was heartening to read in a recent issue of the very many moves afoot to resurrect the fruit interest in the Carse of Gowrie, with its many by-products. The Carse has reason to be proud of some of its pioneers in this field, including Archibald Gorrie (1778–1857). A good number of orchards in the Carse have disappeared since my boyhood, the trees having become old and perhaps past their best for cropping, unlike the 19th century when Carse of Gowrie fruit, apples in particular, was much sought after in London. Gorrie was a well-known horticulturist in his day, onetime gardener, general manager and then factor of the Stuart of Annat estate in the braes of the Carse at Rait. He contributed greatly to local fruit tree specimens by creating Lawsons Golden Gage Plum, Annat Park Apricot, Annat Beurre Pear, Annat Scarlet Apple etc. He is credited with introducing the pansy into Scotland as well as various types of forage plants cultivated at the farm of Shanry, which he leased separately, and which was located near the Swirlhead above Rait. He was more than 50 years at Annat Estate having worked as a gardener beforehand at Logie House and Dupplin Castle and is buried in a railed grave in the lea of the south wall of the old ruined kirk of St Peter’s at Rait, itself originally a chapel of Scone Abbey.I feel quite sure that if Archibald, that leader in his field, was here today, he would be well pleased with all of the fine work of conservation and development of fruit trees going on today in the Carse.
Donald M. Abbott, Invergowrie