Showing posts with label Wanlockhead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wanlockhead. Show all posts

Tuesday, 9 August 2022

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.

 

A photo of a row of cottages at Wanlockhead, with a hill behind them and a blue summer sky above.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Miners’ Cottages at Wanlockhead

 

A photo of a grey looking and sort of pyramid shaped slag heap standing in green looking countryside, with hills in the background.   Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The slag heap at New Glencrieff Mine

 

A photo showing a broken sign in the foreground that reads Danger Keep Out, with the slag head of New Glencrieff Mine at Wanlockhead in the background.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Danger Keep Out

 

A photo of a group of shorn sheep standing by a small, crumbling concrete building on the hillside at Wanlockhead.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
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.

 

A photo of an old shack standing in a grassy hollow with trees around it.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
An old shack in a grassy hollow

 

A photo of an old shack standing in a grassy hollow with trees around it.  The shack is made up of a patchwork of lots of different materials such as wood, corrugated iron and piles of rocks.   Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
A patchwork of repairs

 

A photo of the other side of the old shack showing a broken window in a window frame lying against it and a pile of rusting wire just up from it.   Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
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.

 

Another photo of the shack showing the tumbledown state it is in, with holes in the roof.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Tumbledown old shack

 

A photo from just up the hill by the shack looking down on it and the trees growing around it.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
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.

 

A photo of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 78) being held up in front of the old, tumbledown shack in Wanlockhead.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #78

 

A photo of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 78) lying amongst the rocks making up one of the walls of the old shack.   Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #78 in a pile of rocks propping up the shack

 

A close up photo of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 78) lying amongst the rocks making up one of the walls of the old shack.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #78 in a pile of rocks propping up the shack

 

Google Map showing the location of Skulferatu #78
Map showing the location of Skulferatu #78

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.399701

Longitude -3.789647

 


Tuesday, 21 December 2021

Skulferatu #53 - New Glencrieff Mine, Wanlockhead, Dumfries and Galloway

 

On a chilly, damp and dreich day, I took to the winding roads up to the highest village in Scotland.  Not a wee place in the Highlands as you might suspect, but rather in the rolling hills and glens of Dumfries and Galloway.  The village of Wanlockhead, as well as laying claim to being the highest in Scotland, is a place with a past deeply entrenched in the old industry of mining.  The mining of lead.  And on any walk around or out of the village you will come across the remains of buildings or machines connected to mining.

 

Beam Engine and Miners Cottages, Wanlockhead

 

After popping into the Museum of Lead Mining for a stroll around and a coffee, I took a walk out of the village to one of the old mines.  As I walked, the mist rolled in from the hills around me giving the landscape an eerie quality.  It made me feel like I was walking through a scene in an old black and white thriller and also reminded me of a tale I’d just come across in the museum about the Wanlockhead ghost.  And I do like a good ghost story.  The tale goes that in the winter of 1877 a teenage girl called Jenny Miller set out from a farm a few miles away to attend her sister’s wedding at Wanlockhead.  On her back Jenny carried a wicker basket in which was a teapot she had bought with her hard earned savings as a wedding present for her sister.  As she walked over the hills a blizzard came in.  Determined to get to the wedding, Jenny battled her way through the snow and freezing winter wind, but unable to see where she was going, lost her way and stumbled and fell into an old mine working.  Trapped there, she succumbed to her injuries from the fall and the cold of the brutal winter weather.  For several days her family and friends searched for her, eventually finding her poor, frozen corpse where she had fallen.  A cairn was then built nearby in her memory, and on top of the cairn was placed a stone with Jenny’s name on it.  

 

A photograph of the face of a Mannequin of Jenny Miller in the Museum of Lead Mining.  Jenny looks a bit unhappy, probably because she died in the hills and became a ghost.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Mannequin of Jenny Miller in the Museum of Lead Mining

 

Around a hundred years later a visitor to the area was taking a summer stroll through the hills when the swirling mists suddenly descended.  He then saw a young woman walking towards him with a wicker basket on her back.  As she approached him, he could see that she was wearing very old fashioned clothes and appeared to be quite distressed.  He walked towards her to ask if she was okay and heard her say - look in the stones.  She then disappeared into the mist.  Baffled by this the visitor, on his return to the village of Wanlockhead, recounted his tale to some locals who told him about Jenny Miller and the cairn built for her.  They then took him out to the cairn, though could not see the stone with Jenny’s name carved on it.  Remembering that Jenny had said to look in the stones, the visitor did, and he found the stone with Jenny’s name on it in there, broken in two.  

 

The stone now sits in the Museum of Lead Mining next to a mannequin of poor Jenny Miller, whose forlorn and lonely ghost wanders forever lost in the mists of the hills. 

 

***

 

A couple of kilometres out of the village I came to the ruined buildings and slag heaps of the New Glencrieff Mine.  As I walked around it the silence and grey light of the mist gave it an almost dreamscape quality.  You could imagine it being the sort of place you might just bump into a ghost or two.

 

A photograph of a small warning sign with the ruined buildings and slag heap of the long abandoned New Glencrieff Mine in the distance.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
New Glencrieff Mine – almost lost in the mist

 

A picture of the remains of a demolished building - part of the remains are two rows of bricks that look a bit like towers sticking up out of the rubble.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Remains of a demolished building

 

A picture of a ruined building and slag heap at the site of New Glencrieff Mine.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Ruined building and slag heap

 

A picture of a ruined building and slag heap at the site of New Glencrieff Mine.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Ruined building and slag heap

 

Picture of the grey, rubble path leading up to the grey slag heap at New Glencrieff Mine.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Path leading up to the slag heap

 

A picture of the remains of a building by the slag heap at New Glencrieff Mine.  The building had rubble in it that has poured down from a chute.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Remains of building by the slag heap

 

A photo of the slag heap at New Glencrieff Mine.  Photograph by Edie Lettice for the Skulferatu Project.
The slag heap at New Glencrieff Mine

 

A photo of some ruined buildings at New Glencrieff Mine.  Photograph by Edie Lettice for the Skulferatu Project.
Ruined buildings at New Glencrieff Mine

 

A picture of the rubble path up to the ruined building that was once the winding engine house.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Path up to the Winding Engine House

 

a picture of the ruins of the Winding Engine House at New Glencrieff Mine, Wanlockhead.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

Workings at the New Glencrieff Mine began in 1718 and various companies then utilised it throughout the years to extract huge amounts of lead.  One of the shafts of the mine extends down 240 fathoms (around 1440 feet or 440 metres), which is pretty bloody deep.  The mine closed in 1931 and then re-opened again for a brief period in the 1950s.  It was the last mine to close in Wanlockhead, and over its lifetime it was reckoned that over 105,000 tonnes of lead had been extracted and smelted from it.

 

Ruins of the Winding Engine House.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

Ruins of the Winding Engine House.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

Inside the ruins of the Winding Engine House.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Inside the ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on my walk in a hole in the wall of one of the ruined mine buildings.

 

A photo of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 53) being held up with the ruins of the Winding Engine House in the background.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #53

 

Picture of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 53) in a hole in the wall of the Winding Engine House.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #53 in a hole in wall at ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

Picture of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 53) in a hole in the wall of the Winding Engine House.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #53 in a hole in wall at ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

Picture of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 53) in a hole in the wall of the Winding Engine House.  Photograph by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #53 in a hole in wall at ruins of the Winding Engine House

 

Google Map showing the location of Skulferatu #53
Map showing the location of Skulferatu #53

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.400310

Longitude -3.795050

 

I used the following sources for information on the tale of Jenny Miller and New Glencrieff Mine –

 

Museum of Lead Mining, Wanlockhead, Dumfries and Galloway

https://www.leadminingmuseum.co.uk/

 

Tourist Info at the site