Skulferatu #79 - Durisdeer Parish Church, Durisdeer, Dumfries and Galloway

 

At the foot of the Lowther Hills there sits the tiny hamlet of Durisdeer.  In the centre of this little community, of no more than a dozen houses, there sits a rather grand Parish Church.  The unexpected grandeur of the church is due to the patronage of the Dukes of Queensberry, who resided a few miles away at Drumlanrig Castle.  The mausoleum for the Queensberry family is housed within a building attached to the church.  Since Medieval times a church has stood on the site, with the present building being the result of a major rebuild that was carried out in 1699.   Other major works were then carried out on the building in the 18^th and the mid-19^th century.

 

Durisdeer Parish Church

 

Durisdeer Parish Church

 

Durisdeer Parish Church

 

Today, after walking along the winding country roads that take you to Durisdeer, I made my way through from the main gate of the church grounds and into the churchyard. Amongst the many old, weathered and moss covered gravestones there, my attention was drawn to one that stood by the walls of the church.  This being the ‘Martyrs Grave’, a table top gravestone dedicated to Daniel McMichael, a Covenanter who was killed in 1685.

 

The Martyrs Grave

 

The Martyrs Grave

 

The Covenanters were followers of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland who rejected the idea of the King being the spiritual head of the church.  As far as they were concerned only Jesus Christ could be the head of their church. The name Covenanter comes from the fact that in 1638 many of those who opposed interference in their church by the King signed a document to this effect called the National Covenant.  The Stuart kings, Charles I and later, after the Restoration, Charles II, were not happy about their roles and their ‘divine rights’ being called into question and saw the Covenanters as rebels.  This led to many hundreds of the Covenanters being imprisoned, transported, or executed.  Platoons of Dragoons scoured the land looking for these rebels and when they found any, they often summarily executed them.

 

Daniel McMichael was one of two brothers who had both become Covenanters.  His brother James had been killed the year before, in 1684, whilst fighting against a group of soldiers who had come to arrest him and his friends.  In January 1685, Daniel had come down with a severe fever and illness.  However, his friends would still come and meet with him at his house so they could worship together.  At one of these meetings a lookout spotted a platoon of Dragoons heading their way and, realising that they had been betrayed and the location of their meeting place given to the authorities, he ran back to inform his friends.  The group quickly packed up and left, wrapping Daniel in the blankets from his bed and taking him with them.  They then took shelter in a nearby cave, but soon learnt that the Dragoons had been informed about the cave, so had to flee again.  However, as they were burdened with carrying Daniel, they found the going slow and Daniel, who realised that the authorities would soon catch up with them, told then to leave him behind and flee.  The friends reluctantly did this and left Daniel in another cave in the hope that he would not be found.  Unfortunately for Daniel, the hounds the Dragoons had with them soon sniffed him out and he was taken prisoner.  He was then dragged down to Durisdeer where he was questioned, then asked to take an oath of allegiance to the King and recognise him as the head of the church.  Daniel refused to do this.  The next day he was taken to be marched to another village around 12 miles away, but it was found that he was too ill to walk that far.  So, a few miles from Durisdeer, at the entrance to the nearby Dalveen Pass he was told to prepare to die.  He was then given a few minutes to pray while a party of soldiers were brought together to carry out the execution.  At a given signal the soldiers then shot him.  His body was later taken down to Durisdeer and buried in the churchyard.

 

The epitaph on his gravestone reads –

 

As Daniel cast was into lions’ den,

For praying unto God, and not to men;

Thus lions cruelly devoured me,

For bearing unto truth my testimony.

I rest in peace until Jesus rend the cloud,

And judge ‘twixt me and those who shed my blood.

 

On walking round the graveyard and going into the main part of the church I found there was some major refurbishment work going on.  I had a nose around anyway and on making my way upstairs I found two young crows who had got trapped in the building and were desperately crashing against the windows in their effort to get out.  Taking off my jacket I managed to catch them one at time, wrap them in it and get them out.  They screamed at me all the way out, but happily flew off once outside.  My good deed done for the day I cleaned the cobwebs, feathers, and bird shit from my jacket, and then wandered around the outside of the building.  There I found an entrance at the back of the church and into the mausoleum. 

 

Inside the mausoleum are the Queensberry Marbles.  These ornate, and very white sculptures, commemorate James Douglas, the second Duke of Queensberry and his wife, Lady Mary Boyle.  The Duke was known as the ‘Union Duke’ for his role in securing the union of the parliaments of England and Scotland in 1707.  This role made him very rich and led to him being given various honours and titles such as the Duke of Dover, Marquess of Beverley, and Earl of Ripon.  However, it also made him very unpopular with a large part of the population of Scotland, especially within Edinburgh, where he had a second home, Queensberry House.  There, the rumour soon spread that while the festivities, riots or whatever had been going on to celebrate the union, the Duke’s son James, who was a little bit strange, had killed, cooked, and eaten a young servant boy.  I’m not sure if the story has any truth to it, or if it was meant as a representation of the smaller country of Scotland being consumed by its larger neighbour, but it’s a story that has stuck and is still told today on many of the ghost tours that stroll around Edinburgh.

 

The Queensberry Marbles

 

A detail of the Queensberry Marbles

 

On leaving the mausoleum I made my way round to the old gravestones at the back of the church. 

 

Gravestone in Durisdeer Churchyard

 

Gravestone in Durisdeer Churchyard

Durisdeer churchyard and Parish Church

 

Gravestone in Durisdeer Churchyard

 

I then found a rather marvellous moss and lichen covered stone.  It was for a David Scott, but other than his name and the fact that his body lay there I could make out nothing more of the inscription.  But what does that matter, when the carved skulls on the sides of his stone have become quite wonderful in the way they have aged.

 

Gravestones in Durisdeer Churchyard, with David Scott’s stone in foreground

 

Carved skull on side of David Scott’s gravestone

 

Carved skull on side of David Scott’s gravestone

 

Carved skull on side of David Scott’s gravestone

 

Carved skull on side of David Scott’s gravestone

 

Before leaving the graveyard, I gave in to temptation, and left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me on my walk in the mossy nasal cavity of one of the carved skulls.

 

Skulferatu #79

 

Skulferatu #79 in the mossy skull on a gravestone

 

Skulferatu #79 in the mossy skull on a gravestone

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #79

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.315532

Longitude -3.743814

 

I used the following sources for information on Durisdeer Church and the churchyard -

 

Traditions of the Covenanters

Or Gleanings among the Mountains

By Rev. Robert Simpson

1870

 

The Martyr Graves of Scotland

By J. H. Thomson

1903

 

Monuments and Monumental Inscriptions in Scotland

by Charles Rogers

1871

 

Canmore

https://canmore.org.uk/site/46336/durisdeer-parish-church

 

Wikipedia

James Douglas, 3rd Marquess of Queensberry - Wikipedia

Skulferatu #78 - Old Shack, Wanlockhead, Dumfries and Galloway

 

It was summer again and so I headed off on a little summer holiday to sunny Dumfries and Galloway.  A rather lovely and somewhat desolate feeling county, though one with plenty to see and do.  My first stop was back to Wanlockhead – an old lead mining village which is also the highest village in Scotland.  This is somewhere I visited last year and had also been to several times before, many decades ago, on trips with the school and also with the family of a friend.  A family who were massively into wild camping (though we just called it camping back in the Seventies), wild swimming (though we just called it swimming in a river, a lake, the sea, etc. back in the Seventies) and long, long walks over rugged countryside.  I have to say that even though I was, and still am, a lazy sod who could easily stay in bed most of the day, I did actually enjoy holidays with my friend’s family.  They were quite action packed and the walks always seemed to end at a pub, where his parents got a beer and us kids got Cola and crisps, or maybe even a packet of KP salted peanuts – a massive treat back in the Seventies.

 

When I was here last year, everything was hidden in swirling mountain mists and was very eerie and lonely with a sort of mystical atmosphere.  Today, on one of the hottest days of the year it all looked very different.  For someone from a colder climate everything always looks different in the sunshine though, it sort of takes on the look and the feel of somewhere more exotic.  Well, that is until you notice that everyone you pass is half naked with their bare skin in varying shades of pasty white and lobster red, as they make the best of the brief Scottish summer sun.  ‘It’s no summer ‘til ma skins peeling in red strips fae ma body’ seemed to be the common philosophy of many of those I saw out today...including myself.  Even the sheep wandering around the hills all appeared to be half naked, given that they were all newly shorn of their fleeces.  They frolicked around, some locking horns and play fighting while others kept a wary eye out, watching over passing strangers.

 

Miners’ Cottages at Wanlockhead

 

The slag heap at New Glencrieff Mine

 

Danger Keep Out

 

Some shifty looking shorn sheep

 

As I was out walking today, I passed a small, tumbledown shack and had to go and have a closer look.  It was one of these buildings that is a patchwork of materials replacing all the bits that have long since rotted away.  Bits replaced so many times that the original building is probably long gone with only the space inside remaining the same.  I’m always fascinated by these sort of buildings, as even though they are built for purely practical reasons they acquire a uniqueness and a character from all the patching and repairing that goes into keeping them standing.  There is almost a love that goes into the building and keeping it there, keeping it from falling down.  Keeping it as an integral part of the history of those who use it, have used it, and of the landscape it sits in.

 

An old shack in a grassy hollow

 

A patchwork of repairs

 

Old shack at Wanlockhead

 

Sitting in a grassy hollow in the sunlight, the shack looked almost like the fairy tale abode of some character fallen on hard times, or maybe the hovel of some wicked witch with a warty nose.  I knocked on the door at the front to see if anyone was in, but no-one answered.  Maybe they couldn’t hear me above the noise of the singing birds and buzzing insects.  Or maybe in the darkness within there were two yellow eyes staring malevolently at me, thinking how they could boil me up in their cauldron and make soup with my bones...though probably the only things watching me were a few dozen spiders and several mice, so much like being at home then.

 

Tumbledown old shack

 

Old shack in Wanlockhead

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on my walk in amongst a pile of rocks being used to prop up one of the walls of the shack.

 

Skulferatu #78

 

Skulferatu #78 in a pile of rocks propping up the shack

 

Skulferatu #78 in a pile of rocks propping up the shack

 

Map showing the location of Skulferatu #78

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.399701

Longitude -3.789647

 

Skulferatu #77 - The Oyly Well, Liberton, Edinburgh

If you were out on your travels and you stumbled across a pool of oily water, would you think that it must have some special or miraculous properties?  Probably not.  You would probably just think – Yuk, what is that?  This was not the way they thought in Medieval times though.  In the days before pollution and oil spills, science, and modern medicine, anything out of the ordinary could and often would seem to be something miraculous, something provided by God above to help us mere mortals down here on earth. So it was with the oily waters that rise from a spring in Liberton to form the Oyly Well.

 

The Oyly Well

 

The Oyly Well, also known as the Balm Well, St Catherine’s Well, or the Balm Well of St Katherine, sits in what were once the grounds of St Catherine’s Chapel.  The chapel, which is now long gone, was built on the instructions of Queen Margaret (later St Margaret of Scotland) in honour of St Catherine of Sienna. 

 

The waters of the Oyly Well rise up from a spring that passes through the oil shale in the ground below, and this is why they are oily.  In olden times though the story went that Queen Margaret returned from Mount Sinai with some of the oil of St Catherine, and being a bit of a clumsy clod, she somehow managed to spill the oil on the spot where the spring rises.  This led to the waters becoming oily and having healing properties. 

 

The well soon became famous for the curative qualities of its water and was referred to locally as the Balm Well.  It was said that the oily waters could cure many skin complaints such as scabies.  They were also said to cure conditions leading to aching bones such as arthritis and rheumatism while also helping to alleviate the symptoms of gout and paralysis.  And if drunk they were supposedly good for preventing hysteria or breathing problems such as asthma.

 

The Oyly Well

 

The interior of the Oyly Well

 

The well was a big hit with the Scottish royals and was visited by various kings.  King James VI was a huge fan of the well and believed fully in the healing properties of its waters.  In 1617, on a trip back from England, where he was of course King James I, he stopped off at the well and ordered that it be properly enclosed and have a stairwell constructed down to the water so that it was easier to access.  However, in 1650 some of Cromwell’s soldiers, who were camped nearby, destroyed the structure around the well and filled it in.   During the Reformation the well was cleared of rubble and partially rebuilt, with the full structure that is there now being constructed in 1889.

 

The inside of the Oyly Well with its oily waters

 

Today the well can be found in a quiet spot in the garden at the back of a rather grand house which stands in the area where St Catherine’s Chapel once stood.  The house was built in 1806 for the architect John Simpson, and it was also the one time home of Sir William Rae, the Lord Advocate who oversaw the prosecution of the infamous body snatchers and murderers, Burke and Hare.  In its various incarnations since then the house has been a children’s home and is now a Toby Carvery restaurant.

 

On my visit there I sat in the early afternoon sun and watched the oily waters of the well bubble away.  Was I tempted to try them to alleviate any of my aches and pains, rub them onto my arthritic knees or have a swig to cure my wheezing hay fever?  Nah – no chance.   

 

The Oyly Well can be found in a quiet spot...

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on my walk in a little dimple in the stone roof of the well, but then I gave into temptation and…

 

Alas dear reader, I did something

I shouldn’t have oughta

I threw the Skulferatu

Into the oily water…

 

Skulferatu #77

 

Skulferatu #77 sitting in a dimple on the stone roof of the well

 

Map showing the location of Skulferatu #77

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.902881

Longitude -3.164044

 

I used the following sources for information on the Oyly Well –

 

Canmore – Balm Well

Canmore - Balm Well

 

The Scotsman - Monday 11 March 1889

 

The Oyly Well; or a Topographico-Spagyrical Description of the Oyly-Well, at St. Catharines Chappel in the Paroch of Libberton,

By Matthew Mackail, 1664

 

New Statistical Account of Scotland – Volume 1

By the Ministers of the Respective Parishes, etc.

1845

 

Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland - Volume 17

‘Holy Wells’ in Scotland

By J Russell Walker

1883

 

 

Skulferatu #24 - SEPA Monitoring Site, River Almond, Craighall, Edinburgh

 

On an unseasonably sunny day I went for a stroll along the River Almond. The Almond runs from Hirst Hill in Lanarkshire to its exit into the Firth of Forth at Cramond.  The river is twenty-eight miles long and winds its way through West Lothian and round the outskirts of Edinburgh.  The name of the river comes from the old Celtic word Amon, which means river.  So, the name of the river is basically River River.

 

I joined the Almond at its exit into the sea at Cramond and walked along the riverbank up the path to the Old Cramond Brig (bridge).  On crossing that, I cut off down the path under the new bridge that carries the traffic speeding along the A90.  The noise from the traffic is a continuous thunderous rumble and as I walked through the nearby woods, I could just make out some birdsong, which made me wonder how the birds can possibly communicate above all that noise.  Maybe they just sing a bit louder.

 

Old Cramond Brig

 

Snowdrops on the riverbank

An old drainage tunnel, draining water from nearby fields into the River Almond

 

Once under and past the new bridge the river path winds on for miles and miles.  One day I will walk, or cycle, as far as the path carries me, but not today.

 

A view of the River Almond

 

Today I walked to the SEPA Monitoring Site on the Almond at Craighall.  SEPA, the Scottish Environment Protection Agency, has 392 sites around Scotland that monitor water levels.  The information from these sites helps in flood management, amongst other things. 

 

SEPA Monitoring Site, as seen from the riverbank

 

SEPA Monitoring Site, as seen from riverside

 

The monitoring site at Craighall is a rather unimpressive, purely functional, brick building.  Its walls are cracked and pitted with holes and it is heavily graffitied on the wall facing the path.  At its side there is a set of rather worn steps and what looks like a lovely, shiny ruler.  This ruler is the basic, but effective tool for measuring the level of the river.  At the time of my trip out there the level was just under 50 centimetres.  According to the River Levels UK website the usual range of the level of the Almond is between 0.21 and 1.92 metres, though it reached 3.76 metres in April 2000…a particularly wet year I have no recollection of.  I must have spent most of it in the pub, to keep out of the rain.

 

Measure at side of building showing water levels

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in one of the many little holes in the wall of the monitoring station, facing out onto the River Almond.

 

Skulferatu #24

Skulferatu #24 in a hollow in the wall of the Monitoring Station

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #24

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.962894

Longitude -3.338132