Skulferatu #144 - Tongland Abbey, Tongland, Dumfries and Galloway

 

On a sunny morning during a stay in Kirkcudbright I decided to pay a visit to Tongland.  Yes, Tongland is a real place.  Sounds made up I know, but it does exist.  It is a small village just outside Kirkcudbright with a few houses, a derelict church, a rather stunning looking Modernist style hydro power station (unfortunately hidden under scaffolding and sheeting during my visit to the area), and the remains of an ancient abbey that I fancied taking a look at. 

 

On leaving the Airbnb I was staying in, I walked along to the harbour and then took the path along by the River Dee.  Passing a small industrial estate area where in one of the units they make all that lovely fake food you see on the tables of various popular period dramas; I reached a more rural area of reeds and muddy banks.  Then making my way up and into fields of cows, past the remains of an old railway embankment and back to a path by the river, I ended up across from the power station.  Here the path I was walking on became narrower and more overgrown.  Wondering if I’d taken a wrong turning somewhere I decided to carry on regardless and thankfully soon came out on a proper, well-trodden path again that led me to a bridge over the river.  A little bit further with a stint along the main road and I was walking down a small residential street and into the grounds of the old and now derelict Tongland Parish Church.  Here in the graveyard, not far from the church, stand the last remains of the old abbey.

 

Abbey ruins in Tongland Graveyard

 

Abbey ruins in Tongland Graveyard

 

Abbey ruins in Tongland Graveyard

 

Abbey ruins in Tongland Graveyard

 

Tongland Abbey was founded in around 1218 by Alan, Lord of Galloway.  He, at this time, was one of the most powerful men in the whole of the British Isles who owned huge tracts of land in Scotland, England and Ireland.  A relative, friend and confidant of King John of England, he was one of the King’s advisers in 1215 negotiating the terms of the Magna Carta.

 

For over three hundred years the abbey was home to the Canons of the Premonstratensian Order who were also known as the much easier to pronounce ‘White Canons’ due to the colour of their habit.  The Premonstratensian Order were founded in 1120 by Norbert of Xanten, later Saint Norbert, at Premontre in France - hence the name.  Once an impressive set of buildings with the tallest spire in Galloway, all that remains of the abbey now are a wall and arched doorway that were incorporated into a later church.  This church, also a ruin, is now no more than some walls and a belfry. 

 

The Belfry

 

Doorway of the old abbey

 

The history of Tongland Abbey is a relatively peaceful one, though in 1235 during an uprising in Galloway against King Alexander II, royal troops killed both the Prior and Sacristan of the abbey.  Then in 1455 King James II used the abbey as his base while his troops carried out a siege on the nearby stronghold of the Douglas family, Threave Castle.  Other than that, the Canons carried on doing the things that Canons do.

 

There was however one rather colourful character who briefly occupied the role as Abbot at Tongland, this being John Damien.  He was an Italian, or maybe French alchemist, though malicious rumours were spread by his enemies that he was actually a ‘Mohammedan’ from Turkey who had murdered an Italian monk and stolen his habit.  On being discovered he had fled to France where still in monks garb, he passed himself off as a man of medicine.  There, he fleeced his patients out of exorbitant amounts of money and killed so many with his pills and potions that he had again to flee and ended up in Scotland.  Probably none of this is true, but he certainly did experiment with alchemy in an attempt to make gold from base metals.  He also tried to find potions that would make old men young, ill men well and one that would kill lice, a huge and itchy problem back then. 

 

Damien became a favourite of King James IV and would often be invited to play cards and backgammon with him.  He regularly took part in shooting matches with the King, using the primitive firearms of the day.   The King liked to wager large amounts of money on these matches, and he usually lost to Damien.  This however did not dampen the King’s affection for him and in 1504 he appointed Damien the Abbot of Tongland.  Whether Damien ever visited the abbey or just claimed a big fat wage from it, we don’t know.  It did appear though that he didn’t have a great deal of interest in carrying out his role and spent most of his time either carrying our various experiments in alchemy or enjoying himself at the King’s court.

 

In 1508, much to the amusement of his enemies…and his friends, Damien decided to experiment in flying.  He had a large pair of wings made with feathers sown into them and had these attached to his arms.  Then, in the first recorded attempt at flight in Scotland, he jumped off the walls at Stirling Castle.  Yup, you guessed it, he didn’t fly.  He went down, down, down and then SPLAT he landed in a dung heap.  He survived the fall but was out of action for a while with a broken thigh bone.  On recovering, Damien carried on much as he had before, but then after the Battle of Flodden in 1513 his name disappears from the records.  It is assumed that he died in the battle along with his friend and benefactor King James.

 

The history of the abbey during the 16^th century appears to have been one of decline with the buildings being recorded as in a poor condition in 1529 when they came under the care of the Bishop of Galloway.  By the time of the Scottish Reformation the religious community at the abbey had gone, and in 1587 the buildings and land around became the property of the Crown.  The abbey is recorded as still standing in 1684 but shortly after this appears to have been dismantled with the stone being used to build a nearby bridge and other buildings.

 

Tongland Parish Church

 

The graveyard in which the remains of the abbey stand is dominated by the derelict building of Tongland Parish Church.  This church was built in 1813 and then abandoned in the 1930s.  Since then, it has slowly fallen to bits and is now a roofless shell.  There was some talk of it being restored and used as an exhibition space, but this has never come to anything.

 

Tongland Parish Church

 

Wandering around the graveyard I came across the slightly creepy Neilson Mausoleum from which three white marble faces stare out.  This is the burial place of James Beaumont Neilson, the inventor of the hot-blast process for smelting iron, his wife Barbara Montgomerie and their son Walter Montgomerie Neilson, an engineer who founded the largest firm of locomotive and marine engine manufacturers in Europe.  All three at one time lived in and owned a nearby estate.  Peering in through the barred gate of the mausoleum I felt that the ivy creeping around Barbara’s face and obscuring her almost seemed to symbolise how the history of her life is lost in that of the two ‘great men’ she sits between.

 

Looking over graveyard to Neilson Mausoleum

 

The Neilson Mausoleum

 

Bust of Barbara Montgomerie

 

After a stroll through the graveyard, I made my way back to the abbey remains and there I left a Skulferatu balancing precariously in a gap in the wall.  I hope it doesn’t fall.

 

Skulferatu #144

 

Skulferatu #144 in a gap in the abbey wall

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #144

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are -

 

Latitude 54.86302

Longitude -4.030535

 

what3words: homework.eradicate.tour

 

I used the following sources for information on Tongland Abbey -

 

Sidelights on the History, Industries and Social Life of Scotland

Louis Barbe

1919

 

Alan Lord of Galloway the ‘Magna Carta’ and Tongland Abbey

Tongland and Ringford Community Council

 

Canmore – Neilson Mausoleum, Tongland Abbey

 

Skulferatu #143 - Wreck of the Wellspring, River Dee, Kirkcudbright

There is always something sad about seeing the rotting carcass of a boat sitting on the shore or at a rivers edge.  A boat has personality and character with its own temperament and idiosyncrasies, and carries its history around the world along with the histories of the people who travel with it and work on it.  Then, when it is abandoned, all is lost.  With the rising and falling tides, the woodworm and the decay, the character and personality of the boat disappear into a pile of disintegrating timbers and rusting metal.  Like a corpse, all that is left are the skeletal remains.

 

While on a few days holiday in Kirkcudbright, every time I went out walking along the banks of the River Dee I passed the remains of this boat, the Wellspring.  Sitting in amongst the reeds with its stern raised up at a slight angle it always looked as if it was trying to sail up the bank and away from where it had been grounded. 

 

The muddy banks of the River Dee

 

The wreck of the Wellspring

 

The wreck of the Wellspring

 

The Wellspring in the reeds

 

So, one day on my way back from a walk I decided to ignore the biting flies and the squelching, muddy ground and have a wander around the wreck.  In the evening sunlight the blue of the paintwork seemed to shine, though up close it was nothing more than flaking shards on crumbling wood.  Wood so rotten that I could almost push a finger through it.  The deck of the boat had completely disappeared in places leaving the rusting metal of the engine below exposed.  Green shoots of riverside plants grew through the hull while crusted ropes, solid with age, hung down like some weird concrete ornaments and vanished into the mud below.  Quiet and still, the boat sat amongst the rustling reeds and just up from the burble of the river.  

 

The Wellspring in the reeds

 

The raised bow of the Wellspring

 

Jutting up from the reeds

 

Peeling paint and crumbling wood

 

The rotting deck of the Wellspring

 

Crusted ropes

 

Rust and rot

 

A hundred rusty nails in rotting wood

 

The Wellspring was built in 1950 for Ernest Wood by J. N. Millar & Sons of St Monans in Fife.  Originally named the Wilsheernie KY140, the boat was a fishing trawler constructed of wood.  She was 52 feet long and had an 88hp engine built by Bergius Co Ltd, Glasgow.  The boat then went through several owners and was renamed Wellspring FR406 at some point before being purchased by David Paterson of Campbeltown when she became the Wellspring CN207.

 

Before becoming a pile of rotting wood and rusting metal the boat was for years out in all weathers and in seas rough and calm.  A working boat, it provided men with livelihoods and trawled the seas to feed a growing population.  Some of us, of a certain age in Britain and parts of Europe, may well have eaten fish netted by it.  Why the boat is now abandoned on the riverbank I don’t know.  I imagine it will be the usual scenario of it being bought for some sort of business project, then the money ran out, so it was dumped.  Whatever the reasons for its abandonment, it appears to have been there since the 1990s, a local landmark that is just slowly disintegrating away.

 

Pushing my way through the reeds I made my way to the bow of the boat.  There, between rotting wood and rusting metal, I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me on my walk.

 

Skulferatu #143

 

Skulferatu #143 wedged into the bow of the boat

 

Skulferatu #143 wedged into the bow of the boat

 

Map showing the location of Skulferatu #143

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are -

 

Latitude 54.843076

Longitude -4.045815

what3words: additives.lobbed.websites

 

I used the following sources for information on the Wellspring -

 

Scottish Fisheries Museum - Wellspring CN207

(Link includes a photograph from 1983 of the Wellspring when it was in use as a trawler.)

 

Caledonian Maritime Research Trust - Wilsheernie

 

 

 

 

 

  

Skulferatu #142 - St Olave's Church, Hart Street, London

 

Sometimes, when I’m out and about I’ll meet a building and fall in love with it.  That happened today while I was wandering around the streets in the heart of the City of London.  Walking along in a bit of a daydream I glanced up to see in the distance in front of me an arched stone gateway topped with some carved skulls.  Intrigued, I went over and had a look.  The gateway led into a small garden area with some old, old gravestones and then the small and rather quaint looking church of St Olave’s, an ancient little building sitting in amongst a load of modern office blocks. Entering the building I found a little peaceful haven from the noisy world outside.  A place just dripping with atmosphere and tinged with the silent voices and memories of generation upon generation of worshippers and visitors who had spent time here.  A place where I just wanted to sit down on the pews and absorb the ambience.

 

Gate to St Olave’s Churchyard

 

The Gates of St Ghastly Grim

 

The skulls and spikes of St Ghastly Grim

 

St Olave’s Church

 

The Churchyard

 

Now, you may wonder who is this St Olave that the church is named after.  Well, he was King Olaf II from Norway who in 1014 came to England and helped Æthelred the Unready claim his throne back from the Danish King, Cnut (a name that should always be spell checked).  At the Battle of London Bridge, he and his men scored a decisive victory against the Danes and recaptured London for Æthelred. After his time in England, Olaf spent some time in France where he converted to Christianity, before returning to Norway.  There he was credited with the Christianisation of the country before losing the crown to King Cnut and being forced into exile.  In 1030 Olaf was killed at the Battle of Stiklestad.  He was then canonised just a year after his death and became the patron saint of Norway.

 

Northeast view of St Olave’s

 

St Olave’s Church – the south side

 

Interior of St Olave’s Hart Street 1894

 

The site on which St Olave’s Church stands is believed to have been a place of worship since the 11^th Century.  The original church was likely to have been a simple wooden building which was replaced with a stone built church in the late 12^th or early 13^th Century.  In the 1460s two merchants from the City, Richard and Robert Cely, had that church replaced with the present building.  St Olave’s was one of the few churches that escaped the flames of the Great Fire of London in 1666.  It was saved by the forward thinking of Sir William Penn who ordered his men from the nearby naval yard to blow up the houses around the church to create a fire break.  The church went on to survive pretty much intact, with a few interior and exterior alterations, right up until World War II when it suffered severe damage during several bombing raids.  It was then rebuilt between 1951 to 1954.

 

WW II bomb damage to St Olave’s - Illustrated London News

 

St Olave’s Church is one of those places that connects you back to many historical figures who have worshipped there.  Queen Elizabeth I, while still Princess Elizabeth, held a thanksgiving service there in 1554 to celebrate her release from the Tower of London.  She had been imprisoned there for a few months by her sister Queen Mary, also known as Bloody Mary for her penchant for having Protestants executed.

 

Inside St Olave’s Church

 

Stained glass window in church

 

Memorial to and bust of Elisabeth Pepys

 

Detail of memorial for Elisabeth Pepys

 

Detail of the roof of the church

 

The diarist Samuel Pepys was a regular worshipper there who affectionately referred to St Olave’s as ‘our own church’.  Though he cared much for the building he did not always appreciate the sermons there, writing in his diary – ‘So to church again, and heard a simple fellow upon the praise of church musique, and exclaiming against men’s wearing their hats on in the church, but I slept part of the sermon, till latter prayer and blessing was all done without waking which I never did in my life…’  When Pepys wife Elisabeth died, he had a marble bust of her made and installed on the north wall of the sanctuary.  There, she faced out to where he would sit in the church so that he could see her and feel she was there with him.  On his death in 1703, Pepys was buried alongside the body of his wife in the nave of the church.

 

Stained glass window showing Queen Elizabeth, Saint Mary

& Saint Catherine

 

Detail from church window

 

Monument to Dr Peter Turner, Died May 27^th 1614

 

Monument to Sir James Deane, his three wives and his children

 

Detail of monument to Sir James Deane

 

View by the Bayning Monument

 

Lectern

 

Notice on church wall

 

The author Charles Dickens was also a bit of a fan of St Olave’s and the gateway decked with skulls.  He commented that it was ‘one of my best beloved churchyards, I call the churchyard of Saint Ghastly Grim… This gate is ornamented with skulls and cross-bones, larger than life, wrought in stone, but it likewise came into the mind of Saint Ghastly Grim, that to stick iron spikes atop of the stone skulls, as though they were impaled, would be a pleasant device…I once felt drawn to it in a thunderstorm at midnight…and found the skulls most effective, having the air of a public execution and seeming, as the lightning flashed, to wink and grin with the pain of the spikes.’

 

Though the churchyard of St Olave’s is tiny, it is the resting place of lots and lots of people.  Of those whose bones lie in the ground under your feet as you walk through the little oasis of green, the names of most are now either lost to time or mean nothing to us, their histories long gone.  One of the names that stands out though is that of Mother Goose, who was buried there in 1586.  Who she was no-one seems to know, and it is unclear if she was the inspiration for the pantomime character or maybe just an elderly woman with the surname Goose.  Hundreds of victims from the 1665 plague outbreak were also buried there, including Mary Ramsay, who was believed to have been the person who brought the disease to London.

 

After soaking up the atmosphere of St Olave’s, I made my way out to the churchyard.  There, in early afternoon sunshine, I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me in a hollow in a tree.

 

Skulferatu #142

 

Skulferatu #142 in a hollow in a tree

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #142

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are -

 

Latitude 51.510767

Longitude -0.079496

 

what3words: found.equal.decay

 

I used the following sources for information on St Olave’s Church –

 

Memoirs of the City of London and its Celebrities

John Heneage Jesse

1802

 

The Annals of the Parishes of St. Olave Hart Street and Allhallows Staining, in the City of London

Rev. Alfred Povah

1894

 

Illustrated London News - Saturday 24 May 1941

 

Our Own Church

Eileen Grey

2014