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<channel><title><![CDATA[ABERDEEN &nbsp;HISTORY &nbsp;SOCIETY - ARTICLES]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles]]></link><description><![CDATA[ARTICLES]]></description><pubDate>Mon, 02 Mar 2026 16:14:41 -0800</pubDate><generator>Weebly</generator><item><title><![CDATA[Bendelow: son of the pieman]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/bendelow-son-of-the-pieman]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/bendelow-son-of-the-pieman#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 24 May 2021 15:57:45 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/bendelow-son-of-the-pieman</guid><description><![CDATA[Golf and Scotland have gone together for centuries. James II had to ban it in 1457 because it was distracting from military training. The ban was finally lifted in 1502 by James IV who is also the first recorded purchaser of a set of golf clubs. The shape of the game was standardised in 19t&#8203;&nbsp;h&#8203;&nbsp;century Scotland into an 18 hole game, each hole being the standard four and a quarter inch diameter as set by Musselburgh (that claims to be the oldest golf course in the world).&nb [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph"><span>Golf and Scotland have gone together for centuries. James II had to ban it in 1457 because it was distracting from military training. The ban was finally lifted in 1502 by James IV who is also the first recorded purchaser of a set of golf clubs. The shape of the game was standardised in 19</span><span>t</span><span>&#8203;&nbsp;</span><span>h</span><span>&#8203;&nbsp;</span><span>century Scotland into an 18 hole game, each hole being the standard four and a quarter inch diameter as set by Musselburgh (that claims to be the oldest golf course in the world).&nbsp;</span><br /><span></span></div>  <div>  <!--BLOG_SUMMARY_END--></div>  <div class="paragraph" style="text-align:left;">The rules of the game were laid down by the Royal and Ancient of St Andrews. In that same 19t&#8203;&nbsp;h&#8203;&nbsp;century, golf course design emerged as an art form, the foremost designers being Scots. The daddy of them all was undoubtedly Old Tom Morris who introduced a new challenge in his courses &ndash; the dog leg. Old Tom was the son of a weaver in St Andrews: he rose from caddy to champion golfer. He organised the first Open in 1860 and was the first to tee off. He came second that year but won over the next 2 years.<br /><br /><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">Golf was mainly for adult men in the 19</span><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">t</span><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">&#8203;&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">h</span><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">&#8203;&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">century, there seemed to be few opportunities for youth golf, but Aberdeen was an exception &ndash; there was a long established youth medal system in operation from the 1820s that produced a string of very promising golfers. One of the leading juniors in the 1880s was Tom Bendelow.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">Tom Bendelow was born on 2 September 1868, one of the nine children of John and Mary Edwards Bendelow who ran a very famous pie shop at 42 Causewayend in Aberdeen. Bendelow&rsquo;s pies were famous; they were reputed to be the best in the north-east. They sold particularly well as a pay day treat or a weekend special or for family celebrations. There were even poems written about Bendelow&rsquo;s pies. People came from all over the city to taste the gastronomic delights of that shop. It went on for generations. Jane Bendelow married into the Jessamine family and the shop continued under the name of Jessamine&rsquo;s Bakery until the 1960s. The Bendelows and Jessamines were Brethren and were strict in their religious observance. Sunday was centred on the St Paul Street Gospel Hall. The Jessamines lived in Elmbank Terrace and on Sunday evenings a crowd would gather outside their home to hear the family as they sang their hymns around the pedal organ. The Jessamines also produced a popular dentist who practiced in Belmont Road.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">Tom learned the game of golf, playing with his father at the Town Links, a course that straddled the Kings Links and Queen&rsquo;s Links and incorporated part of the Broad Hill. His club was Royal Aberdeen and they played on the Links until they had a course of their own at Balgownie, just north of the Don, in 1887.By now, Tom was 19 years old.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">Tom had been playing regularly from the age of nine and was highly proficient. He was never a champion but he was always in contention. He competed in most of the main courses in Scotland and England. He kept playing even in his apprenticeship years. From the age of 14, he served a seven year apprenticeship as a typesetter with Aberdeen Free Press. Fitting in golf could not have been easy because his religion forbade him playing on a Sunday. He also fitted in athletics, he was a sprinter who covered the emerging Games circuit and even competed at Powderhall. There was money to be made from running. There were also perks attached to golf, it gave him a taste of the world beyond Aberdeen.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">From around 1890, he courted Mary Ann Nicol, the daughter of a prosperous local farmer. The Balgownie course had acted as a matchmaker. They seemed to have done most of their courting around the Brig o&rsquo; Balgownie. They married at Belhelvie in February 1892. Father-in-law was not happy that his daughter was married to the son of a mere shopkeeper. To escape the constant interference, Tom emigrated to the States in September 1892 leaving behind his pregnant wife. He moved to that great melting-pot of a city, New York, and took up a post in the New York Herald. His daughter was born in December 1892 and both wife and baby joined Tom in New York in 1893.<br /><br />&#8203;</span><span style="color:rgb(102, 102, 102)">His first big break came when he was typesetting a letter to the Herald seeking golf coaching. Family tradition suggests that that letter was never printed. Tom answered it and met the rich Pratt family. They were the co-founders with John D. Rockefeller of Standard Oil of New Jersey. He sold the game to them so enthusiastically that they got him do lay out six holes for them in their Long Island estate (it became the nucleus of the future prestigious Nassau Country Club). That successful foray into design got him a commission to develop the 9 hole municipal Bronx course into a classic 18-holer. It was the first full municipal course in America and became the envy of rival towns and cities. They all wanted one.<br /><br /></span>The Pratts introduced him to A. G. Spalding, the sporting goods manufacturer. Spalding saw the business potential in golf. If the courses could be created then there would be a huge market for golf clubs, golf balls and all the other paraphernalia associated with the sport. Spalding hired Tom to promote the game in New York and New Jersey. Tom acted as salesman, teacher and designer. He gave lessons on the use of the clubs, he ran the first indoor golf school in the Carnegie Hall complex, he was the first to train caddies, and he was eventually to be the first to lecture on golf course design. He did promotional tours. His most famous one was coast-to-coast across the States with Harry Vardon. Harry, from Jersey in the Channel Islands was an early superstar of golf. He used to advise,<br /><em>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t play too much golf: two rounds a day are plenty&rdquo;.</em><br /><br />His 1900 tour involved 80 exhibition and challenge matches: Vardon won over 70 of them against the best in each locality. He managed to fit in time to win the US Open as part of that tour, and Tom was his caddy. Vardon had already won three British Opens and would go on to win a further three. That 1900 tour gave a huge impetus to the game in the States.<br /><br />He moved into the townships and popularised the game. His energy and enthusiasm were infectious. If a township wanted a course, then he designed a starter course for them. He believed in affordable golf, he believed in families playing together. The municipalities did not have a lot to invest, so he had to keep costs low. He never argued over price. They got what they could afford. His courses followed the natural contours of the land, they maximised the use of the natural hazards, and he was not one for creating artificial hazards. His courses had to be &ldquo;sporty&rdquo; i.e. challenging enough for the seasoned player but not so difficult that the learner would be forced to give up. The greens were small, to cut costs. He preferred virgin ground that had not been farmed and fertilised: fertile soil creates fast growing grass and luxuriant rough and makes maintenance expensive.<br /><br />His courses were natural as opposed to artificial. The only earth-moving equipment available to him in the early days was a navvy with a shovel. If you follow the natural contours of the land, as we did in links golf in Scotland, then you create a course that is interesting and challenging. A round of golf ought to be both a test and a pleasure. As he said himself, a course should be<br /><em>&ldquo;a satisfying picture to the eye, as well as a fair test of skill&rdquo;.</em><br /><br />The great Bobby Jones, who learned the game at the Bendelow course at East Lake, Atlanta, marvelled at the fact that Bendelow made you use every iron and wood in the bag. Why have a tool kit with tools that are never used? Bobby Jones had battled health issues as a child and was prescribed golf to give him strength. He won his first tournament at 6. He remained an amateur throughout his life: in 1930 he took the then &ldquo;Grand Slam&rdquo; by winning both the Open and Amateur titles in Britain and the USA.<br /><br />In 1901 Spalding promoted Tom to Director of Golf Course Design, based in Chicago. He relished the challenge. Tom obviously worked quickly. At his peak, he could plan out a course in a week. We know that in 1922 when he designed the Urbana Golf and County Club, he arrived at noon on Tuesday, went over the area, drew up plans, staked out the tees and greens and completed the job by noon on Friday, ready to drive home for the weekend. It was enough to get golf started in the area. His early courses had to be cheap to build ad cheap to maintain... He had to maximise play, minimise costs and maintain interest. His municipal courses were essentially a walk in the park. Most of his courses were later redeveloped as fashions changed and money became available but this does not diminish his missionary work for the game.<br /><br />He stayed 16 years in the Spalding post; it was a prolific period in the development of the game. In 1917 he moved to the rival firm of Thomas Wilson Sports. He earned more money and they gave him his own line of clubs. In 1920 he was head-hunted by the American Park Building Company of Chicago. As the Depression loomed and money became even tighter, he was taking any available commission to keep the company going: he designed many parks and even the occasional cemetery.<br /><br />Yet golf course design was his real legacy. He is credited with designing over 700 courses; he also contributed to the design of around 300 others... He certainly created the initial golf landscape in the New World from the States to Canada. Each course was unique and well crafted. He always told his students at the University of Illinois that designers must think both technically and creatively. He followed in a Scottish tradition that is maintained today by Colin Montgomery and Sam Torrance.<br /><br />Tom remained faithful to his Brethren upbringing. He never played on a Sunday, he never drank alcohol, and he never told the kind of dirty jokes so&nbsp;popular in the club houses. He returned every weekend to his beloved Illinois where he often preached to the local Brethren community. He was a committed and talented preacher. His only known sin was his love for a good cigar. Most photos of him show him relaxing with a good smoke. He died at home in River Forest in Illinois on 24 March 1936, he was 67.<br /><br />He has sometimes been nicknamed the &ldquo;Johnny Appleseed of Golf&rdquo;. Johnny Appleseed was the pioneering nurseryman who spread the love of apples across the States. He was a simple soul and very strict in his religious beliefs. So there is a similarity between the two as fervent missionaries of family values and moral rectitude: both had a hands on approach to the task ahead. Tom would not, however, have been a follower of Johnny Appleseed, because Johnny was planting cider apples destined to produce the Demon Drink, the Devil&rsquo;s Brew.<br /><br />Fittingly, Tom&rsquo;s grandsons followed in his footsteps. He used to take them fishing at South Haven where he had a holiday home. Jack was a professional golfer and golf teacher at Montague in Michigan. Stuart graduated in Geography and Earth Sciences and became a senior planner. Stuart has written a biography of his grand-dad and has done much to resurrect his memory.<br /><br />The 2012 Ryder Cup will be played at Medinah 3 at Illinois. Tom designed all three courses. Medinah 3 has been much changed over the years, the last revamp was in 2000, but Tom saw the potential and laid out the basic course. It is a great testament to his ability...<br /><br />Ironically, an Aberdonian, Tom Bendelow, did much to take the game of golf to America. Now an American, Donald Trump is re-exporting back to us. It would be fitting if in the process we could remember the achievements of Tom, the son of the pie man, who became the most prolific golf course designer the world has ever known. He certainly deserves a mention in the north-east&rsquo;s Hall of Fame.<br /><br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Auld Toon]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/the-auld-toon]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/the-auld-toon#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 19 Apr 2021 19:19:43 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/the-auld-toon</guid><description><![CDATA[The estuaries of the Dee and Don teemed with fish, birds and eggs. They were naturally defensive areas and they offered rich food sources for hunters and gatherers. They later supported primitive farming on the sand and gravel laid by the last Ice Age. A couple of dozen settlements of extended families grew up around the estuaries of Dee, Don and Denburn. You could find them from as early as the second century A.D. at Donmouth, Seaton, Tillydrone, Torry, Fittie, Dee Village and the Green. They w [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph"><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">The estuaries of the Dee and Don teemed with fish, birds and eggs. They were naturally defensive areas and they offered rich food sources for hunters and gatherers. They later supported primitive farming on the sand and gravel laid by the last Ice Age. A couple of dozen settlements of extended families grew up around the estuaries of Dee, Don and Denburn. You could find them from as early as the second century A.D. at Donmouth, Seaton, Tillydrone, Torry, Fittie, Dee Village and the Green. They were eventfully to expand, amalgamate and merge with their inland cousins, to create Aberdeen.&nbsp;</span>&#8203;</div>  <div>  <!--BLOG_SUMMARY_END--></div>  <div class="paragraph"><span>The river names were Celtic. The Don was the Deathan (pronounced &ldquo;Dane&rdquo;): the Dee was the De (pronounced Day). The Don originally turned southwards from Seaton to cross the links to lap the Broad Hill and thereafter reach the sea. Around the two main estuaries there grew up 2 separate communities, New Aberdeen (the commercial hub due to the Dee providing a better anchorage) and Old Aberdeen (the religious hub) they were linked by the Spital Ridge, slowly covering the crescent shaped plain that sloped eastwards to the sea. The two Aberdeens didn&rsquo;t always get on well together. Old Aberdeen was particularly sensitive to any sign of bullying by its bigger neighbour. There was a history of disputes over trading rights: The Incorporated Trades of Old Aberdeen were constantly at loggerheads with their counterparts in New Aberdeen.<br />&#8203;<br />&nbsp;</span><span>The Spital gets its name from St Peter&rsquo;s Hospital, founded in 1168 as a home for retired priests. It stood on the site of the modern St Peter&rsquo;s cemetery. Much later, there was also a small leper hospital located at the Howe of Spital close to the current site of the King&rsquo;s Crescent Fire Station. Leprosy was a dreaded disease that spread easily in the crowded and unhygienic conditions of the Middle Ages. Its victims came from all classes. Robert the Bruce probably died of the disease. There was no cure, only segregation. Once diagnosed or even misdiagnosed, lepers were excluded from normal society The Spital leper colony lasted at least 250 years from the 1360s to the 1610s.It was a little cluster of thatched cottages with a separate &ldquo;sick house&rdquo;. The lepers lived off charity, begging, and the produce of a croft dedicated to their needs. They lived a communal life, sharing what little they possessed. It was normal practice throughout Europe for one leper to be allowed into town to beg but he had to carry a rattle and a stick, was not allowed to touch anyone, and had to stay downwind of the citizens. In order to stop lepers going to the peat mosses to gather their winter fuel, King James VI in 1591 decreed that one peat from every cartload going to market be given to the lepers. The carters en route from Perwinnies Moss in Scotstown Moor would throw off a peat as they passed the colony. The location of the colony appears in Parson Gordon&rsquo;s 1661 map as &ldquo;ruins of the sick house&rdquo;, a clear indication that it was no&nbsp;longer needed.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The oldest traces of Old Aberdeen can be found in Tillydrone, the &ldquo;Hill of Thorns&rdquo; (Tulach Draighinn). Below the artificial mound known as the Motte of Tillydrone, lies an ancient Bronze Age burial ground, a Cairn deliberately sited to be seen from a distance, it is linked with fire, the funeral pyres of the local chiefs and the signalling station to warn the Celts in time of trouble. On the Motte site there has been found traces of Simian pottery which more than likely had been traded with the Romans. There is clear evidence of human settlement there from the 2</span><span>n</span><span> </span><span>d </span><span>century. In medieval times, there was a small wooden chapel on top of the motte, a place for quiet contemplation. Next to the Motte we have a 20</span><span>t</span><span>h </span><span>century immigrant from New Aberdeen, Benholm&rsquo;s Lodgings. It was rebuilt in the Netherkirkgate around 1610 for Sir Robert Keith of Benholm Castle near Inverbervie, whose older brother founded Marischal College. It was built just outside the burgh boundary and close to the well or wallie at Carnegie&rsquo;s Brae and so it eventually was nicknamed the Wallhoose Tower. It had many owners before the ground floor was converted into a pub by James Pirie in 1895. He called it the Wallace Tower. It was B-listed in 1947 as the only remaining defensive Z-plan house in Scotland. When Marks and Spenser acquired the site in the early 1960s, they moved it stone by stone to Tillydrone where it was reconstructed in 1964.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span>The real starting-point for the development of Old Aberdeen was the construction of St Machar&rsquo;s. The saint himself is difficult to trace: legend had him as a disciple of St Columba but none of Columba&rsquo;s records give mention to Machar. The name probably stems from the Latin &ldquo;Macarius&rdquo; which means &ldquo;blessed&rdquo;. Another part of the legend says that he came here as a missionary and built his church where the river bends like a bishop&rsquo;s crook, a crosier. The site is adjacent to the one chosen by the Celts on the safe high ground overlooking the Don. The earliest Christian church in the area probably dates from the 7</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century. Machar was probably a holy man from the early middle ages. One theory is that the name could come from &ldquo;machair&rdquo;, meaning &ldquo;meadow land&rdquo; near the sea i.e. Seaton, the place where the original church was built. St Machar&rsquo;s could have remained a quaint little early church had it not been for King David I who, along with his imported Norman friends, modernised his kingdom and his Church. The monasteries had been the centres of Celtic Christianity. David reorganised 9 Bishoprics around Cathedrals and transferred the see from Mortlach in Banff to St Machar&rsquo;s in Old Aberdeen. St Machar&rsquo;s was probably built around 1165. A series of Bishops extended the simple church into a lovely Cathedral. The rebuild started around 1370. It then became a building site for centuries and provided work for generations of craftsmen. The civilian settlement lived off the work provided by the Cathedral.</span><br /><br /><span>Bishops were busy people. They had State duties to attend to as well as ecclesiastical ones. They were very often absent from their Cathedral and needed a team to carry out the day to day duties of the Bishopric. That administrative team, which was established in 1157, became known as the College of Canons and they resided in the Chanonry. There were 6 key members of the core team. The Archdeacon looked after the parish priests of the area: he too would be on his travels supporting the priests and helping them with parish problems. There were a hundred parishes within the Bishopric. The Dean acted as Bishop-substitute, he was effectively the team leader. The Precentor was in charge of organising church services, with particular attention given to the music and the choir. The Treasurer was in charge of the money whilst the Chancellor acted as secretary, being responsible for all paperwork: he also had duties in respect of running the school. The legal officer was responsible for all maters legal including the work of the church court. The team grew and grew as the years went by. By the mid-15t century it was almost 30 strong. Most of the Canons had a mansion in the Chanonry, paid for by one of the parishes. Whist the parishes tackled poverty, the Canons lived like lords in their own little enclave. By the time of Elphinstone, in the late 15</span><span>t</span><span>h </span><span>century, the Chanonry was enclosed by a protective wall and was gated &ndash; there were 4 gates. It was like a little walled town all to itself.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>Perhaps the best-known Archdeacon was John Barbour, our first national poet. He served St Machar&rsquo;s for 40 years. He wrote &ldquo;The Brus&rdquo; in Old Aberdeen in 1375: it tells the heroic tale of Scotland&rsquo;s fight for freedom from English oppression, he wrote beautifully about the joy of freedom &ldquo;<em>He that always has been free Cannot well know the misery, The anger and the wretched Fate That links itself with slaves&rsquo; estate: But if he has been bought and sold A man loves freedom more than gold&rdquo;. &nbsp; </em>Certainly, the best known Bishop was William Elphinstone: he was the illegitimate son of a cleric of the same name, Professor William Elphinstone, Dean of the Faculty of Arts at Glasgow University. William junior trained in law in France before leading the legal office of the Glasgow Diocese, he succeeded his father as Dean and even served a year as Rector of Glasgow University from where he was headhunted to become Chancellor of Scotland. Bishop Elphinstone was a very devout man, a workaholic who dedicated the last 26 years of his life to modernising his diocese and setting up and developing the key features of Old Aberdeen &ndash; the Cathedral, the University and the &ldquo;Middle Toun&rdquo;. He clearly saw education as the key to modernisation. He set up King&rsquo;s College. He finally got approval from Pope Alexander VI, arguably the most unholy of Popes, in 1495. Alexander VI was a Borgia Pope, mired in corruption and tainted with murder. His enemies, the Medicis, painted a very grim picture of him. Among his brood from his several mistresses, perhaps Lucretia and Cesare were the most infamous. For all his many faults, Alexander VI did much to sponsor the Arts and to extend educational provision, as he did in Old Aberdeen.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>Old Aberdeen was chosen rather than New Aberdeen because Elphinstone could be in total control in Old Aberdeen, whereas he would encounter endless obstacles and interference from the leading political families in New Aberdeen, the powerful Chalmers, Collison, Menzies and Cullen dynasties. Elphinstone&rsquo;s University was originally called the College of the Holy Virgin in Nativity. Construction of the Chapel started in 1500 on an existing Christian site, using two types of sandstone &ndash; the hard-red stone in the lower half but for the upper half he used Moray sandstone shipped over a hundred sea miles from Covesea near Lossiemouth. The dedication ceremony took place in 1508. The original Crown steeple blew down in a gale in 1633 and had to be rebuilt. After the Reformation, the Chapel fell into disuse, the students were marched to St Machars. It was sometimes used for graduations until it was restored as a place of worship in 1871. Since then it has been in constant demand for graduate weddings. Kings College Chapel formed the north side of a courtyard or quad. To the east was the School for lectures with the Great Hall above. Behind the School were the kitchens and brewery. On the south side was the residential block for 24 masters and students. Further south, near the Powis Burn was the vegetable and herb garden. At the west corner there was a small junior school. The whole complex lay behind a wall of around nine feet in height. The whole complex followed the monastic model. Kings Chapel is the only survivor of Elphinstone&rsquo;s original buildings.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span>From the earliest days, the University students were worked very hard. Lectures started at 6 a.m. and the students could spend ten hours a day in the classroom. A lot of their time was spent learning languages &ndash; Latin, Greek and French. Lectures had to be noted, memorised and tested the same day. The term started in October with two weeks of exams to test the fitness of the students for study. They then worked right through to July without a break. The catchment area was the whole of the north-east. Elphinstone was ambitious enough to set up five faculties &ndash; Arts, Canon Law, Civil Law, Medicine and Theology. Most students matriculated in the Arts, the other four faculties were mainly for postgraduate study. An Arts degree took 4 years; a degree in Theology took seven years. Much of the Arts course was centred on the works of Aristotle and the learned commentaries upon them. A study of Cicero also played a major role in the course. The students did not always get on well together. The sons of the nobility tended to look down on the common bursars. The bursars in turn tended to despise the pompous rich boys who usually lacked their academic strengths. To be a bursar, you had to be exceptionally able. The College brewery did not help matters by producing Best Ale and Bursar Ale. There were also tensions from time to time between Lowlanders and Highlanders.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>Bishop Elphinstone also incorporated Old Aberdeen into a Burgh of Barony in 1489, he needed to do this so that he could justify the need for a university there. The Charter was granted by King James IV. New Aberdeen had achieved Burgh status in 1153. Elphinstone burned himself out and died of exhaustion in October 1514 because of his frantic efforts to restore stability to his country after the humiliating defeat at Flodden in 1513. He was 82.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span>Student numbers continually rose as the centuries wore on. By the 17</span><span>t</span><span>h </span><span>century there were obvious pressures on the space available, and there were growing concerns about the teaching load. Students were being cramped three to a room, sometimes even two to a bed. Some started taking up lodgings in the auld toon. Many of the sons of the nobility would arrive with servants, often with a personal tutor who would supplement the teaching, and guide his charge through the course. By the 18</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century, most students stayed in rented rooms, mainly in Old Aberdeen. Sometimes the entire family would move into Old Aberdeen for the duration of the son&rsquo;s course.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The Burgh of Old Aberdeen had its own market cross; it held weekly markets in the High Street and two annual fairs. The Easter Fair took place over two days &ndash; the Thursday and Good Friday of Easter week. The sheep and cattle were bought and sold at Hillhead, the cloth market centred round the market cross, the Timmer Market was at Cluny&rsquo;s Wynd at the High Street end of the Chanonry and the rest of the stalls were spread around the High Street. The Aulton Fair, sometimes called St Luke&rsquo;s Fair lasted for eight days in mid October and was renowned for its side-shows. Fairs were well marketed and advertised, they created a lot of much-needed revenue. There were, however, hidden costs, they were expensive to police in that they generated rowdiness and drunken behaviour. Most of the traders and customers came from the north. At the market cross, important proclamations were read out and mundane punishments were meted out. The market cross was badly defaced by the zealots of the Reformation in 1560 and was further vandalised during the civil wars.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The bachelor enclaves of the enclosed Chanonry and the University, walled within College Bounds, were cut off from the ordinary folk of the Middle Town. The houses of the humble workers were built with their gables on to the High Street. Behind their houses lay their long narrow rig on which they kept livestock and reared pigs and hens: some even kept their ovens there. The earliest houses were timber-framed and thatched: fire was an ever-present fear in the middle ages. The back dykes to the rigs formed a defensive wall to keep out intruders such as Highland raiders. So, in effect, all three parts of Old Aberdeen &ndash; the Chanonry, the University, and the Town itself - were all walled.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The middens of the townsfolk would be piled up in the High Street, the stench being somewhat neutralised if not obliterated by the reek from the peat fires. Peat was readily available all round the old town. Hygiene was never too high on the agenda in the middle ages. Old Aberdeen butchers slaughtered their beasts on the High Street until the Town council eventually put a stop to that in 1740. Chamber pots were also frequently emptied there, usually under cover of darkness. Daily life was governed by the bells. Elphinstone installed 14 of them in the centre tower of St Machars. Three of them weighed more than half a ton each. They were very expensive to make, even more expensive to erect and were such an important a part of parish life that they were individually named. The Protestant reformer, the Earl of Moray, had them removed in 1658: he also stripped the roof of St Machars of lead and shipped the lot for sale in Holland to raise money for military equipment. The ship sank, and the precious bells were left to rust in the depths of the North Sea.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>St Machar&rsquo;s central tower collapsed in 1688 causing much damage. It was clamed that the cause of the collapse was that Cromwell&rsquo;s men removed the stones of the chancel as material for their fortress on Castlehill in New Aberdeen. Kings in 1521 was equipped with 13 bells, the largest of which, Trinity, weighed 2.5 tons and was acclaimed as the biggest in Scotland. One Kings bell was tolled at 4am in summer to signal the opening of he gates: another bell rung at 5am to wake the staff and students: it rung for 15 minutes. The big bells were only rung on special occasions; they were easily cracked if rung badly. By 1700 they were deemed too fragile to ring anymore and were recast. One of the smaller bells still survives.&nbsp;</span><br /><span>The Reformation must have come as a shock to Catholic Old Aberdeen. The presence of the Earl of Huntly and his armed retinue saved St Machar&rsquo;s from the wrecking mob but couldn&rsquo;t stop the wind of change. St Machar&rsquo;s became a Protestant parish church; Kings became a Protestant University in 1569 under a very tactful Principal, Alexander Arbuthnot. The Auld Toon, however, did not turn 100% Protestant &ndash; Catholics continued to practice their own beliefs, and Episcopalianism flourished. There continued to be a problem of in-coming beggars. The Catholic Church had always generously offered free food to the poor and this continued to attract starving papers to the burgh even after the Reformation. Hunger has never been sectarian.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The Snow Kirk survived. The Church of Our Lady of the Snows was founded by Bishop Elphinstone in memory of his visit to Rome in the winter of 1494 en route to the Vatican to petition Pope Alexander VI for his university project. He visited Rome&rsquo;s Snow Church, Santa Maria Ad Nives and found it a very moving experience. The Snow Kirk was built as the parish church for the Middle Toun and it remained so until amalgamated with St Machars in the 1580s. The kirk stood until 1640.The Old Aberdeen Snow Kirkyard continued to hold Catholic burials long after the Reformation and was known from the 18</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>Century as the Papists Burial Ground. The burial ground remains today, half hidden but still atmospheric.&nbsp;</span><br /><span>There were two alms houses in Old Aberdeen, one for men and one for women. The one for men was known as the Bede House, it stood on the Tillydrone edge of the modern Seaton Park from the early 16</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century. The Bedemen were expected to pray for the soul of the King. There were 18 Bedemen even until the 1920s. Their name is retained in the St Machar Drive sheltered development. The Mitchell Hospital was for women: it had originally been endowed by the United Trades early in the 18</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century and lasted around 100 years until David Mitchell endowed his convent-style hospital for 5 widows and daughters of Burgesses. In 1924 it was modernised into four self-contained homes.<br />&#8203;&nbsp;</span><br /><span>By the 17th century we have a clear picture of a thriving little town of 900 inhabitants. The local census of 1636 shows that it was mainly a weaving community. Some weavers were wealthy enough to employ several servants. The weavers&rsquo; sheds were mainly clustered around the rigs of the east side of the High Street There were 143 separate households in the High Street alone, in fairly crowded conditions. &nbsp;</span><span>Some 10% of the population were female servants. There was also a scattering of skilled trades. There were shoemakers (cordiners), butchers (fleshers), hammermen (from smiths to coopers) and tailors. There was one net-weaver, Archibald Smythe, to supply the salmon fishers at the Cruives and Balgownie. There was also a saddler.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span>Then there were the brewers (mainly female), the bakers, three &ldquo;breidsellers&rdquo;, a &ldquo;kailseller&rdquo; and a female &ldquo;pudding-wright&rdquo;, Elspeth Gray, who made mealy puddings with oatmeal and presumably also made black puddings, and sausages. Elspet Forsyth earned her living selling dulse (seaweed). There was also a candle maker (probably for church contracts because most people would make their own tallow candles) and a bookbinder. Much of the female population was employed as spinsters (making yarn) or stocking-makers (&ldquo;shankers&rdquo;). There was also, of course, a midwife (&ldquo;commer&rdquo;).&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The Chanonry attracted wealthy residents after the Reformation. Some of the Catholic gentry had homes there such as the Earl of Huntly and the Earl of Errol. There was also a scattering of &ldquo;goodwives&rdquo; (wealthy widows) enjoying the tranquillity of the old town where the crime rate was negligible, the people were friendly, and shopping was relatively easy. Some preferred the hustle and bustle of the High Street to the tranquillity of the Chanonry. Lord Seton certainly did.&nbsp;</span><br /><span>The Loch of Old Aberdeen that covered the site of St Machar Academy playing-fields and the play park on the other side of St Machars Drive had an island in the middle (probably a crannog) on which Sir Alexander Gordon of Cluny built a summerhouse. He also had a boat to get him to it from his extensive garden that stretched from Cluny&rsquo;s port. He had purchased the first three properties on the west side of the Chanonry in 1623 and enclosed them into his massive garden which included the entire site of the Cruickshank Gardens and stretched to the modern Tillydrone roundabout.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span>The problems of morality sometimes pushed the strict Protestant ethic to the limit. The Kirk Session dealt energetically with any suspected breach of the morality laws. Drinking alcohol was a recurring problem, as was the sin of playing games on the Sabbath: football was bad enough: card games, using the Devils&rsquo; picture book, were even worse. The moral Gestapo of the elders were sorely tried by the continuation of the habits of fiddling and dancing at weddings. There were even youngsters who kept up the old custom of lighting bonfires to celebrate the summer solstice, a practice that stretched back to the pre-Christian era and gives us a possible link with the rituals carried out at the cairn at Tillydrone Motte.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The stool of repentance was used regularly on the Sabbath, with the offenders further humiliated by having to adorn sackcloth and go barefoot. Scourging at the market cross was so frequent that a professional scourge had to be employed at the generous rate of eight shillings a week. Bad offenders were usually whipped out of town and banished thereafter. Jails cost money: Old Aberdeen had a jail, but it was mainly used as a holding cell pre-trial. Minor offenders may spend a day in the &ldquo;jougs&rdquo; wearing a iron collar attached to the market cross, a suitable target for mockery and missiles. The court had to deal with all manner of complaints. Debts were common in the credit driven economy. Assaults were frequent: men tended to use their fists as their chosen weapons, women tended to use their tongues. All were likely to be reprimanded and fined. The same characters appear time and time again in the court records. There were some unusual cases such as the complaint that a dog on heat attracted so many other dogs that a kale yard was damaged, and a low thatched roof was left in a state of disrepair. There were even cases of suspected witchcraft, usually given little more than a stern warning. Old Aberdeen was never prone to extremism, but sometimes became victim to that phenomenon.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span>In 1638, attempts to anglicise worship in the Scottish Kirk gave rise to the National Covenant. This had very little support in either of the Aberdeens. Nevertheless, late in March 1639 Old Aberdeen was occupied by a Covenanting army that was said to be 2000 strong. The good citizens duly signed up to the Covenant &ndash; it saved blood but not money. By 1644 Old Aberdeen had to buy muskets to defend itself from Irish rebels and to equip, at great cost, 12 foot soldiers and one horseman. It wasn&rsquo;t a panic measure; the threat was very real. The Marquis of Montrose with some 1500 Irish troops sent the Covenanters packing from Aberdeen in the Battle of Justice Mills, in September 1644, and for three days they looted, raped and murdered their way through the town, stripping the clothes from their victims and ransacking houses. Old Aberdeen escaped relatively unscathed. Indeed, it benefitted from Aberdeen&rsquo;s troubles. Many Aberdeen businessmen switched to the more peaceable Old Aberdeen. They had one other very strong reason to move &ndash; the Bubonic Plague.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>The April 1647 outbreak in Aberdeen was a particularly aggressive one: it had reached epidemic proportions by May and was to take a very heavy death toll before it died out in December. Old Aberdeen was surprisingly slow to react to it, it didn&rsquo;t go on plague alert until July, by which time it was too late. Eventually the taverns were closed, the markets were stopped, and sermons and services were suspended. This upset the finely balanced Old Aberdeen economy and it took some time to recover from the setback. As usual, the poorest were the first to suffer. With no Kirk services, there were no collections and therefore no funds for poor relief. Although open air services were held in Scotstown, Persley and Grandholm, the money collected was given to the plague victims quarantined in isolation huts. When the plague struck again in the summer of 1648, Old Aberdeen completely cut itself off from its unhealthy neighbour. With increased business following the plague years came increased jobs and a surge in population. By the early 1700s the population of Old Aberdeen had doubled to 1800. Industries were prospering. Brick-making, pottery, stocking-making were now thriving, and the salmon fishers were kept busy supplying both local and foreign markets.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>Brewing was also becoming big business. The first brewery had been chartered by Bishop Elphinstone in 1504. In the Middle Town many of the small-time brewers were widows eking an existence by supplying their neighbours. By the late 17</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century brewing in Old Aberdeen was on an industrial scale. Smith, Irvine and Company from the early 18</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century was producing beer, ale and porter. Balmoral Castle was actually supplied in the 19</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century by Mr Thomson of Powis Lodge: it was a four-day round trip to do so. Part of the Old Brewery is still used for tutorials by the University as part of New Kings.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>Brick-making probably started in Seaton in the middle ages. By the 18</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century it had grown into a full-blown industry, diversifying from bricks to tiles, chimney pots, and a range of ceramics. In the 19</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century a specialist ceramic company owned by the master potter Thomas Gavin from Lanarkshire produced a huge array of domestic pottery, both plain and decorative. There was a wide rage of bowls of all shapes ad sizes, some lovely butter tubs and attractively designed cheese bells. In 1903 the firm was bought out by the florist Ben Reid to mass produce flower pots. Two years later, Arthur Mills from Derbyshire breathed new life into Seaton pottery. It survived until the age of plastics pushed it out of business. It finally closed in 1964.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>By that time, of course, old Aberdeen had ceased to be a separate burgh. It had lasted over 400 years as a free burgh. It has its own Provost, Baillies, Town House, coat of arms and motto (&ldquo;By Harmony all Things Increase&rdquo;). The iconic Town House dates from 1788 and is unmistakably Georgian, built in simple granite ashlars and with a magnificent clock tower topped with an octagonal bell house. It is a dignified building and has been carefully and tastefully restored. The view from the upper windows looking down to the triangular market-place and along the High Street is a breath-taking one. It was lack of money that eventually drove Old Aberdeen reluctantly into amalgamation with New Aberdeen in 1891. The citizens desperately needed a new water supply, street lighting and adequate policing. Such things were unaffordable to them as a little burgh. Old Aberdeen became what it always feared would happen - a mere suburb of the city, a half-forgotten backwater remote from the mainstream developments. To a large extent it has become a University town: the University has taken over much of the land and many of the old buildings.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span>It lost its independence, but it hasn&rsquo;t lost its dignity and its beauty. It still retains its unique charm; it is still a quaint town of wynds and closes. The local poet, George Harvey, in his chronicle play on Elphinstone has the Bishop saying<br /><em>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve never seen autumn come with richer gold With lovelier tapestries at dawn and dusk Often it seems to me our autumn here Is but the birth of spring&rdquo;&nbsp;<br />&#8203;</em></span><br /><span>It is difficult to disagree with that comment. Decked in its autumn colours Old Aberdeen is strikingly beautiful. It is also picturesque with a sprinkling of winter snow. Much of the High Street is of 18th and 19</span><span>t</span><span> </span><span>h </span><span>century design. The berry red chimney stacks are built of Seaton bricks and they add to the character of the place. The forgotten city is one of the brightest jewels in the crown of Aberdeen.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Real John Brown]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/the-real-john-brown]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/the-real-john-brown#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 08 Mar 2021 16:50:45 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/the-real-john-brown</guid><description><![CDATA[&#8203;The Royals had little reason to love Scotland in the 18t h&nbsp;C. The Jacobites were a real threat to the dynasty and the Clans had to be controlled and policed. For a time even the tartan was banned. Highland soldiers, however, helped change the image. They were increasingly seen as the heroes of the Empire, the gallant front-liners in India, the Americas, Africa and Europe. They were no longer the&nbsp;terrorist ogres from the wild and barbaric north.      The first real royal interest [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph"><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42); font-weight:700">&#8203;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">The Royals had little reason to love Scotland in the 18</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">t h&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">C. The Jacobites were a real threat to the dynasty and the Clans had to be controlled and policed. For a time even the tartan was banned. Highland soldiers, however, helped change the image. They were increasingly seen as the heroes of the Empire, the gallant front-liners in India, the Americas, Africa and Europe. They were no longer the&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">terrorist ogres from the wild and barbaric north.</span></div>  <div>  <!--BLOG_SUMMARY_END--></div>  <div class="paragraph"><span>The first real royal interest in a tartan-clad Scotland came with the visit of George IV to Edinburgh in 1820. The event was orchestrated by Sir Walter Scott who created a new mythology of the romantic Highlands and the brave and loyal highlanders. Victoria loved the works of Sir Walter Scott; she wholeheartedly bought into the myth. Victoria, who was crowned in June 1838 made her first visit to Scotland in 1842. Her Prime Minister, Robert Peel, initially advised against such a visit &ndash; he was worried about Chartist activity in the north of England. The compromise was for Victoria and Albert, whom she married in 1840, to sail to Scotland on the Royal Yacht, &ldquo;Royal George&rdquo;. It was the last royal use of the three-masted sailing ship built in 1817.They sailed from Woolwich to Leith and toured for 2 weeks getting no further north than Taymouth - but they tasted and appreciated real porridge and finnan haddies for&nbsp;</span><span>the first time. They vowed to come back.</span><br /><br /><span>In 1844 they sailed to Dundee en route to Blair Castle. This time they toured for a month and tasted Athol Brose, which&nbsp;</span><span>again, was appreciated. They were developing a real taste&nbsp;</span><span>for the Highlands. They loved the countryside and it was</span><br /><span>good to get away from the stuffiness of Court life.</span><br /><br /><span>In 1847 the royal yacht &ldquo;Victoria and Albert&rdquo; sailed the west coast and visited Ardverikie. The ship had been launched in 1843; it was a twin paddle steamer, the first steam-powered royal yacht. There were to be 2 other royal yachts of the same name, number 2 was launched in 1855&nbsp;</span><span>and number 3 in 1899.</span><br /><br /><span>By now, Victoria was in love with the Highlands and was quietly proud of the few drops of Jacobite blood in her veins. The weather, however, was dreadful, it poured with rain. Meanwhile, her physician Sir James Clark was boasting that his son, John, was enjoying the sunshine in Balmoral, where he was recuperating from a long illness: he&nbsp;</span><span>claimed that&nbsp;</span><span>the air there had revitalised his health. Albert</span><br /><span>asked for reports on Balmoral, being worried about&nbsp;</span><span>Victoria&rsquo;s pangs of rheumatism.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><span>That winter, the tenant of Balmoral, Sir Robert Gordon, died suddenly with 20 years left on his lease from the Earl of Mar. The royal couple took on the lease. On 5</span><span>t h&nbsp;</span><span>September 1848, the royal yacht sailed into Aberdeen. Next day the royals set off up Deeside. They had breakfast at Cults, lunch at Aboyne, and reached Balmoral in mid afternoon. They were delighted with the place, the views, the air and the new set of servants retained from Sir Robert Gordon. John Brown was a stable boy when they first&nbsp;</span><span>arrived.</span><br /><br /><span>The royal couple eventually bought Balmoral with its 17000 acres in 1852 for &pound;31,500: Albert had already bought&nbsp;</span>Birkhall. In December 1852 Victoria was unexpectedly left a legacy of &pound;500,000 by the eccentric miser John Neild and this was poured into a rebuild project for a new Balmoral Castle. The architect was Aberdeen&rsquo;s City Architect, William Smith. The Royal Couple actively participated in the interior design with a concept once described as a&nbsp;<em>&ldquo;Feast of tartanitis&rdquo;</em>.<br /><br /><span>The foundation stone was laid in September 1853 and it opened in September 1855. Most of the Royal Household hated the place some 567 miles from the comforts of Buckingham Palace: the politicians also hated the&nbsp;</span><span>remoteness and the discomfort of having to visit Deeside.</span><br /><br /><span>Victoria and Albert, however, could relax at Balmoral, free from the snooping critics and escaping the regimentation of the Royal Household in London and Windsor with their orchestrated ceremonies and strict protocols and routines. Balmoral was their creation, run by their rules; it gave them&nbsp;</span><span>a sense of freedom and a sense of belonging.</span><br /><br /><span>John Brown was born in a humble but and ben in the small hamlet of Crathienaird in December 1826. He was the second son of a tenant farmer in a growing family that would eventually produce 9 boys and 2 girls. Five of the brothers were eventually to work on the royal Estates (James, John, Donald, High and Archie). The name Crathie comes from the Gaelic for brushwood. John started working on the family croft at 14 with a supplementary job as a stable lad at Pannanich Wells. He then looked after the&nbsp;</span><span>Balmoral ponies for Sir Robert Gordon.</span><br /><br /><span>Victoria grew up with a flair for languages, some real&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">ability in art, particularly drawing, and an intense interest in horse-riding. From her teen years onwards, she was a compulsive diarist. Unfortunately, Beatrice, her youngest daughter, edited out anything that could possibly be open to criticism. There are, however, many interesting bits in her journals. We can, for example, read of her suitors and her reaction to them. There was only ever going to be one winner, Albert, who&nbsp;</span><em><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">&ldquo;Is very handsome. I like him in every&nbsp;</span></em><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)"><em>way&rdquo;</em>.</span><br /><br /><span>Victoria became Queen in 1837. She married Albert in February 1840 and gave birth to her first child, Princess Vicky, in November 1840. By the time that the couple&nbsp;</span><span>leased Balmoral, they had 6 children.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><span>Victoria retained the Balmoral estate workers and got to know their families. She got to know her workers by name, and gained their loyalty and respect. She loved the countryside at Balmoral and was entranced by the Highland way of life. She particularly liked her Highland picnics &ndash; Albert liked to hunt on his own, he needed his own space from time to time, so Victoria was taken by the staff on a picnic. John Brown could make the best tea she had ever tasted &ndash; he laced it with whisky. As they got older, the tea disappeared from the picnic menu but the whisky remained&nbsp;</span><span>and was much appreciated by the monarch.</span><br /><br /><span>Albert recognised Brown as the most skilled of the gillies and promoted him in 1851 to ride on the box of the Queen&rsquo;s carriage. Albert had huge respect for Brown who by 1860 bore the title of the &ldquo;Queen&rsquo;s Personal Assistant&rdquo;. He led</span><br /><span>the Queen&rsquo;s pony, passed on the local folklore, kept&nbsp;</span><span>Victoria alert to the current gossip in the area and in the Household, and even told her the latest jokes. He looked&nbsp;</span><span>after her, protected her, and made her feel at ease.</span><br /><br /><span>In December 1861 Prince Albert became ill with typhoid at Windsor Castle, and he died on the 14</span><span>t h&nbsp;</span><span>December, aged 42. He had suffered ill health for some 2 years: m0dern diagnosis suggests Crohn&rsquo;s disease or cancer. He had complained of stomach pains and back pain. The antics of the Prince of Wales with his taste for unsuitable accomplices did not help his father&rsquo;s health. Victoria buried herself in grief, she was even too distraught to attend Albert&rsquo;s funeral service, and for a time she verged on the suicidal. The Court was in mourning for a year but she&nbsp;</span><span>remained in mourning for the rest of her life.</span><br /><br /><span>It was only at Balmoral that she seemed to come out of her shell. There John Brown fussed over her and deliberately got her involved in day-to-day details such as deciding which guest was suited to which pony. She always enjoyed her pony cart rides which Brown led. Elsewhere she remained morbid and trapped in her own self-pity. Her health was visibly deteriorating. In December 1864 John Brown was summoned to Osborne on the Isle of Wight, to give the Queen the fresh air she needed. He took along her&nbsp;</span><span>favourite pony, Lochnagar.</span><br /><br /><span>Albert had persuaded Victoria to buy the Osborne estate in 1845 after renting it for a year. It offered them privacy and they normally took 4 short visits there per year, in spring,&nbsp;</span><span>May, July and December.</span><br /><br /><span>From now on, Brown was with the Queen throughout the&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">year. Wherever she happened to be, he met her at breakfast for instructions. He took his orders directly from her and passed on her instructions to others &ndash; often rather abruptly, he would never have made a diplomat. The Household hated his influence and his crude manners. He also drank rather a lot. Nevertheless, he had the ear of the Queen: they normally enjoyed cart-rides in the mornings and afternoons. His salary rose as his influence increased. In 1865 he was appointed &ldquo;The Queen&rsquo;s Highland Servant&rdquo; at a salary of &pound;120 per annum. In 1866 it increased to &pound;150, by 1869 it was &pound;230 and by 1870 it was &pound;400. She had complete trust in him and valued his judgement. She really saw him as the male head of the Household. This somewhat miffed the Prince of Wales whom she thought would never be fit to&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">rule: he was a playboy of the worst order.</span><br /><br /><span>The resentment of Brown kept growing at Court: he was lower class, rough, lacked the social graces, and had too much influence and too much salary. Although Victoria prized his comforting presence, most of her children hated him and were ashamed of her affection for him. He was, after all, a mere servant &ndash; and servants ought to know their place. Snobbery was rife at Court where Brown was</span><br /><span>regarded as&nbsp;</span><span><em>&ldquo;A Rude, unmannerly fellow&rdquo;</em>.</span><br /><br /><span>Court life was stifled by boring, repetitive routines. By the late 1860s Victoria was becoming lethargic. She needed as new project to reawaken her interest in life and in 1868 she published an edited version of her Highland Journal. It was very readable and was a financial success but it caused her&nbsp;problems both at Court and among the general public.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">The family was not happy with her obvious familiarity with her Highland servants whom she described as &ldquo;noble&rdquo; and on whom she lavished praise. She knew all her estate workers at Balmoral, and liked to pay visits to their families. There were 21 glowing references to John Brown: the Prince of Wales claimed that he himself didn&rsquo;t get a mention &ndash; Victoria gave her son page references to read to prove that that was not the case. Edward was certainly mentioned but never praised. Victoria always blamed him&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">for hastening Albert&rsquo;s death.</span><br /><br /><span>The Journal seemed to suggest to the public that Victoria did very little other than fill her life with picnics and banquets. In fact, Victoria&rsquo;s life centred round her desk: she was almost drowning in official paperwork &ndash; her only&nbsp;</span><span>breaks were for meals and exercise.</span><br /><br /><span>In 1868 Brown was missed at Balmoral for a week and eventually turned up clearly battered and bruised. Rumour had it that the Prince of Wales had hired heavies in Aberdeen to beat up Brown in the grounds of Balmoral. Thereafter, Brown always slept with a pistol under his pillow, and he took to patrolling the grounds at dusk to&nbsp;</span><span>check on the Queen&rsquo;s safety.</span><br /><br /><span>The Queen was always a security risk with Fenians and Republicans around. There were in total some 7 attempts on her life. She was fired at by a deranged 18 year old in London in 1840, there were a further 2 shooting attempts in 1842, and again by an insane Irishman in 1849. A retired Army Officer managed to strike her on the face with his&nbsp;cane in 1850. By far the most serious attempt on her life&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">was by a mentally-disturbed teenager with a flintlock in 1872 in the grounds of Buckingham Palace &ndash; an alert Brown grabbed him by the throat and held him down until the Police arrived. The Queen rewarded him with a gold medal, the &ldquo;Devoted Servant Medal&rdquo; &ndash; again, much to the chagrin of the family. The seventh attempt of her life was in March 1882 when a demented Scots poet shot at her at Windsor Station &ndash; 2 Eton schoolboys were the first to react and battered him with their brollies: he was sentenced to life&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">in the asylum.</span><br /><br /><span>John Brown had always been renowned for his athletic fitness. By the 1870s that was a thing of the past. His health was deteriorating. His face swelled up from time to time, fuelling rumours of alcoholism &ndash; in fact it was erysipelas (a skin infection). He was also getting fatter, his joints ached and his limbs swelled. His legs gave him trouble from time to time due to cellutitis (a related skin infection). At Easter 1883 he fell ill after a severe soaking at Windsor. By Easter Sunday, erysipelas covered the right side of his face and he was delirious. By the Tuesday he was in a coma from which he never recovered. He died aged 56. The Queen was devastated. He was buried at Crathie on Thursday 5</span><span>t h&nbsp;</span><span>April. Victoria ordered his headstone in Aberdeen grey granite and&nbsp;</span><span>penned the words&nbsp;</span><em><span>&ldquo;In affectionate and grateful memory&rdquo;</span></em><span>.</span><br /><br /><span>She handed out funeral brooches and tie-pins and commissioned a life-sized bronze statue (which can still be seen on the Balmoral estate, although it is largely hidden from view after Edward VII had it moved). Despite rumours that he had enriched himself at the Queen&rsquo;s expense, he left&nbsp;just over &pound;7000. He had quietly donated rather generously&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">to numerous charities.</span><br /><br /><span>What he did leave behind was a trail of gossip. Victoria wanted to publish a memorial to John Brown: the manuscript was written and it took a lot of persuasion for her not to publish. The problem lay partly in her literary style. She was somewhat nai&#776;ve in writing expressions of devotion to friends &ndash; she frequently used word such as &ldquo;dearest&rdquo;, &ldquo;darling&rdquo; and &ldquo;beloved&rdquo;. She even once sent a Valentine to her Prime Minister, Benjamin Disraeli.&nbsp;</span><span>Disraeli flattered her, Gladstone bored her.</span><br /><br /><span>The rumour that she was &ldquo;Mrs Brown&rdquo; is as flawed as the earlier rumour that she was &ldquo;Mrs Melbourne&rdquo;(after her first Prime Minister). She was always faithful to her beloved Albert. She only stopped bearing children on strict medical advice. She gave birth to 9 children, 4 boys and 5 girls over a 17 year span &ndash; Vicky in 1840, Albert Edward in 1841, Alice in 1843, Alfred in 1844, Helena in 1846, Louise in 1848, Arthur in 1850, Leopold in 1853 and Beatrice in 1857. She was 38 when her 9</span><span>t h&nbsp;</span><span>child was born. After her death, her autopsy showed a prolapsed uterus: so further sex was physically out of the question. It was also socially out of the question: there was no way that she would sleep with&nbsp;</span><span>a commoner.</span><br /><br /><span>She liked men. She never formed a close relationship with any woman. Albert was irreplaceable: Brown merely filled a void in her life. He devoted his life to her: she regarded him like a hero out of a novel by her favourite author, Sir&nbsp;</span><span>Walter Scott.</span><br /><br /><span>Another scurrilous rumour was that Victoria had turned&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">mad and that Brown was her keeper. There certainly was a history of mental illness in the family, but Victoria escaped it. She did, however, fall into depression from time to time&nbsp;</span><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">and she hated changes.</span><br /><br /><span>The Scottish Republican, Alexander Robertson, seems to be the source of the rumour that Victoria and Brown were married: he also described Victoria as &ldquo;semi-imbecile&rdquo;. He even wrote that Victoria and Brown had a son, born in Switzerland. Such stories still emerge from time to time. In fact there seem to be 4 different &ldquo;child&rdquo; stories &ndash; one in&nbsp;</span><span>Switzerland, 2 in Paris and one in New York.</span><br /><br /><span>The other false rumour was that Brown was a medium, gifted with the Gaelic &ldquo;second sight&rdquo;, using spiritualism to unite Victoria with Albert. She is absolutely no evidence that Victoria dabbled in Spiritualism: she didn&rsquo;t need to; she&nbsp;</span><span>was always convinced that Albert was watching over her.</span><br /><br /><span>After Brown&rsquo;s death, Victoria attached herself to an Indian servant, Abdul Karim, whom she called Munshi (teacher). He was resented at Court ever more than Brown. An Indian Muslim, he served during the last 15 years of her reign. He took Brown&rsquo;s room at Balmoral. The Household staff always felt superior to him: there were racial overtones just as there had been with Brown. Significantly, Edward VII</span><br /><span>sent Munshi back home to India on Victoria&rsquo;s death.</span><br /><br /><span>Victoria died at Osborne in January 1901 in her 82</span><span>n d&nbsp;</span><span>year, some 18 years after Brown&rsquo;s death. She was interred in a series of coffins each inside the other. In the shell was placed Albert&rsquo;s dressing gown and cloak. Her wedding veil&nbsp;</span><span>was spread over her face and in her left hand was a&nbsp;</span><span>photograph of John Brown and below her corsage of flowers was placed a lock of Brown&rsquo;s hair and his mother&rsquo;s&nbsp;</span><span>ring (which Victoria had worn after Brown&rsquo;s death).</span><br /><br /><span>On the morning of Victoria&rsquo;s death, the Balmoral shepherds noted that Brown&rsquo;s cairn had been flattened. After the Prince of Wales became Edward VII, he arranged the removal of all the busts, statues and artefacts of Brown. Brown&rsquo;s room at Windsor became the billiard room. Edward never forgave his mother for loving her servants&nbsp;</span><span>more that her family.</span></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Neil Cooney's Whisky Smuggling Talk]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/neil-cooneys-whisky-smuggling-talk]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/neil-cooneys-whisky-smuggling-talk#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sat, 13 Feb 2021 18:33:01 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[talk]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/neil-cooneys-whisky-smuggling-talk</guid><description><![CDATA[Barley is regarded as the oldest cultivated grain in the world. It certainly predates rice in Asia. We can trace the consumption back to 8000BC in Syria. The Egyptians were the first to master distillation, originally for perfumes and balms. The art of distilling was probably brought to Scotland by the early Christian missionaries from Ireland. The first spirits were distilled in early medieval monasteries.&#8203;The Picts were already used to brewing heather ales from a mixture that included ba [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph"><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">Barley is regarded as the oldest cultivated grain in the world. It certainly predates rice in Asia. We can trace the consumption back to 8000BC in Syria. The Egyptians were the first to master distillation, originally for perfumes and balms. The art of distilling was probably brought to Scotland by the early Christian missionaries from Ireland. The first spirits were distilled in early medieval monasteries.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">The Picts were already used to brewing heather ales from a mixture that included barley malt. The Christians added the still, the recipe scarcely varied. Whisky is really a form of distilled beer. The first historical mention of whisky dates from 1494 when the record shows the friar John Cor instructed to make "Aqua Vitae" for the royal household. It is from the Gaelic for "Water of Life" that we get the name "whisky".</span></div>  <div>  <!--BLOG_SUMMARY_END--></div>  <div class="paragraph"></div>  <div class="paragraph"><span>The production of whisky was a domestic industry (made at home) until the late 18th century. Farmers used their own barley to make it. It was as natural to them as using their own oats to make porridge, just as it was natural for French farmers to turn their grapes into wine. It was the Government that turned this native skill into a crime. The stills were usually hidden in remote locations. The basic equipment was simple, easy to dismantle and conceal. A good copper still could last for 20 years or more. Tin stills were much cheaper to make but corroded very quickly. The main vessel was a copper pot of 10 or more gallon capacity. The key part was the &ldquo;worm&rdquo;, the copper pipe used to condense the hot vapours into liquid.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><span>The recipe was relatively simple. Around 3 bolls of barley (about 200 kg) in sacks were soaked in water for 3 days. Then it was spread to sprout, dried in a kiln, and milled. It was now ready for the bothy. Bothies were around 8 feet square and built alongside running water. There the barley was boiled, stirred slowly, allowed to cool and then fed into the vat where it was mixed with yeast to ferment. Then, over a slow burning fire (usually of peat), the distilling process began. The vapour passed through the coiled &ldquo;worm&rdquo; in a wooden jacket (flakeboard) to condense it. The water had to be kept very cold. The condensed spirit was saved in a pitcher. The first distillation was quite lethal! &nbsp;</span><span>Most spirits were double distilled, the best were triple distilled. The leftover barley, the &ldquo;draft&rdquo;, was high quality cattle food, the straw from the barley crop also provided winter fodder. The leftover liquid, the &ldquo;burnt wine&rdquo;, was usually poured into the burn.</span><br /><br /><span>Two or three people usually worked the bothy. The working conditions would be very smoky and&nbsp;unpleasant. The whole process from malting to distillation usually took 3 to 4 weeks. As a general rule, it was women who made the whisky; the men marketed and distributed it. It would be sold within days and consumed very quickly. Modern whiskies are aged in barrels for years to smooth the rough palate of the raw spirit and add the amber hue.</span><br /><br /><span>Governments have always found the "sin taxes" to be easy revenue earners. Every budget to this day is centred on such taxes. In 1579, distillers were taxed in Scotland for the first time. Few of them paid, most were producing in areas outside strict Government control. In 1609 the Scottish Government tried to impose restrictions on the manufacture of spirits in Scotland. Governments have to control industries so&nbsp;</span><span>that they can maximise the revenue intake: and Governments are always looking for more money as costs soar e.g. in 1644 the Scottish Parliament, in need of money to finance an army of Parliamentarians against King Charles 1, introduced a levy of 40p a gallon on whisky. That drove the industry underground. The stills were hidden; the precious liquid had to be smuggled around the country.</span><br /><br /><span>The 1707 Act of Union led to a confusion of duties, a confusion that lasted more than a century. The&nbsp;English had always been taxed higher than the Scots, and in the interim the 2 tax levels remained. This opened an obvious market for smuggling into England, and the market in Northern England was a particularly lucrative one. By 1820 an estimated 10,000 gallons a week were crossing the border. Already by that date at least half of the whisky consumed was of the illicit variety, duty free. In vast areas of Scotland, many people refused to drink the legalised variety, as a point of principle. When the railways opened in the 1840s there were revenue checks and searches carried out on every train south at Carlisle and Berwick. It wasn't until 1855 that the then Chancellor William Gladstone equalised the rate at 40p per proof gallon.</span><br /><br /><span>To make matters worse, in 1725, the London government introduced the hated Malt Tax of 3d a bushel on malted barley. When the idea had first been debated in the House of Lords in 1712, a motion to dissolve the Treaty of Union failed by only 3 votes. The Jacobites campaigned on the slogan "No Union, No Malt Tax". The farmers sidestepped the Malt Tax by selling their malt to the illegal distillers. It was a patriotic gesture, but it turned the farmers into criminals for evading the duty.The Malt Tax also affected the legalised distillers. They started producing blends of 80% raw barley spirits added to 20% malted barley. It saved them on tax but it compromised the quality of the product. The illicit stills produced pure malt whisky.</span><br /><br /><span>A researcher in Edinburgh in 1777 counted 8 legal distilleries and estimated 400 illegal stills in the city. The situation had come about through Government ignorance and greed. In 1736 the Distillers Tax had been raised to the extortionate &pound;1 per gallon. Further rises came throughout the costly French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars 1792-1815. The sad fact was that the ever-increasing costs of the Excise service outweighed the actual income raised. It was a classic example of the Law of Diminishing Returns.</span><br /><br /><span>The illicit producers didn't see it as a crime, rather as a traditional right and an essential earner for the survival of their families and the maintenance of their lifestyle. They were only doing what their ancestors for generations had done. They regarded Duties and Excise men as forms of oppression. In their communities, smugglers were regarded as local heroes. Most of the sympathisers were also regular customers. Some of the smugglers were elevated to legendary status as tales abound of how they outwitted or out-fought the hated Gaugers. Every area has its folklore of crafty smugglers duping rather thick-headed excise men. Compton Mackenzie captured the sentiment hilariously in his "Whisky Galore".</span><br /><br /><span>Adam Smith, author of the "Wealth of Nations" was also privately a sympathiser. He applauded the undoubted skills involved in the manufacture by decent hard-working people in an industry of which the nation ought to have been proud. He saw the producers as otherwise.&nbsp;</span><span>"Excellent citizens had not the laws of this country made that a crime which nature never intended to be so".</span><br /><br /><span>There was a human side to the story. People have to earn enough to survive. The trade was driven by poverty, just as the marijuana trade is today. Farming, especially in the Highlands, could be precarious. Productivity was generally low due to the soil, the weather, the methods and the farming equipment. At best, it was subsistence farming. Whisky could always pay the rent. In the old days of payment in kind, it was common to pay in liquid form. In the 18t h century the home-made whisky raised cash for an increasingly money-based economy. Cash could be earned in the towns which became the target markets for the smugglers.</span><br /><br /><span>Long before the advent of the County Police Force, Deeside and other north-east country areas were&nbsp;patrolled by Excise Men. Their main concern was the tax evasion by the sale of illicit whisky. The income from illegal whisky was a necessity for economic survival after Culloden. Many areas had lost most of their men and almost all of their cattle and sheep. Much of the illegal distilling took place in the upper reaches of the Dee and its surrounding glens. There was a fine balancing act between breaking the law and losing your farm. In 1773 John Stewart of Tomnalienan having lost his previous harvests to the wet weather, and having thereby fallen heavily behind with his rent, converted his latest barley harvest into whisky. The whisky was seized and the equipment confiscated, he was fined</span><br /><span>75p (fifteen shillings) which he could not pay, so his effects were poinded in lieu of the fine. His landlord, the Duke of Gordon, ordered his factor to give John Stewart" The wherewithal for purchasing back his whisky pot".</span><br /><br /><span>Even Dukes needed the rent. The Fourth Duke of Gordon was a remarkable man described by Lord Kames as &ldquo;the greatest subject in Britain&rdquo;. He was a very enlightened landowner and improver, much loved by his tenants. He founded the model villages of Fochabers, Tomintoul and Port Gordon. His wife, &ldquo;Bonnie Jean&rdquo; was the main recruiter for the Gordon Highlanders (the 92n d) in 1794. The illicit trade flourished in the years of the French Wars. The tax level was ludicrous, the Excise service was over-stretched, French brandy could no longer be imported either legally or illegally, whilst Dutch gin was virtually unobtainable, and West Indian rum was very hard to get. In a sample year 1795-96 I have counted 150 cases that came to court in Aberdeen for "distilling and malting privately" involving seized values ranging from &pound;200 to &pound;650. In the same year, Alexander Mollison and William Mortimer were separately charged with the manufacture of illicit stills and Alexander Anderson was fined for selling malt to "private distillers". It was big business and it kept the courts busy<br />&#8203;.</span><br /><span>It also kept the excise men busy. They were particularly busy in Deeside and Donside and in the vast area between the Dee and Don. In 1820 there were reputed to be 200 illicit stills in Glenlivet alone. It was common practice in the area for farmers to share stills to distil their own local barley: they also shared the fines. The stills were constantly on the move from autumn through winter: the rest of the time they were carefully hidden. There was a Government scheme that gave a reward for every still uncovered by informers: the farmers were excellent informers to their own discarded clapped out gear. Government money unwittingly financed new&nbsp;</span><span>equipment.</span><br /><span>The Excise Men could not effectively police the heavily forested areas such as Glen Tanar that retained at least 14 stills in 1820. There were only 11 Excise Men in the county and they concentrated their efforts on the western suburbs of Aberdeen, the main market for the produce. The smugglers employed scouts to spy on the activities of the Excise Men. Although the women did the distilling, the men did the transporting, usually by pony-trains. It is estimated that 2 million gallons were illegally distilled every year and that a fifth of the whisky was produced in upper Deeside. It was transported in 20 pint kegs, known as Ankers.<br /></span><br /><span>Many of the north-east whisky smuggling stories involve that well known excise man Malcolm Gillespie. He was a Dunblane born ex-soldier who entered the Excise in 1799 in Prestonpans in East Lothian, supervising the salt tax. He detected a lot of fraud and earned his promotion to Revenue Officer in Collieston in 1801 to tackle the large-scale coastal smuggling of brandy and gin. He cleaned up the area before moving on to do a similar job at Stonehaven. In 1812 he moved on to take over the Third Aberdeen or Skene Ride patrolling the wide Dee-Don area to tackle the whisky smuggling from Strathdon and Glenlivet. He was brave and aggressive and was involved with many skirmishes with the smugglers all over the area from Drum to Midmar to Inverurie. Culter was the scene of many such battles. He was a larger than life character, a self-publicist who claimed to have suffered some 42 wounds in the course of his career during which he confiscated an estimated 25,000 gallons of spirits. Sadly the author of his own legend was also the author of his own downfall - he was hanged for forgery in Aberdeen on 16 December 1827. He had long lived beyond his means and had run up deep debts.<br /></span><br /><span>Gillespie did not always get his own way with the smugglers. Writing in the local newspapers in 1955, in a year when whisky was Britain's biggest single export dollar earner, J. A. Fraser Wood described how he searched for his roots in Glenlivet where his great, great grandfather John Stewart-Fraser of Conven Cottage owned a well-worked and highly respected still. Stuart-Fraser's main market was in Aberdeen and he conveyed it there on a hearse with a dozen paid mourners in attendance. They regularly duped Gillespie who would doff his cap as the cortege went past. In 1817 he tried to get through on horseback: as he crossed the Dee at the ford at Allenvale, Gillespie tried to arrest him, shot his horse (a typical Gillespie tactic), a sabre-fight ensued in midstream. Stuart-Fraser was slashed across the forehead but Gillespie was left for dead,and the whisky got through.<br /></span><br /><span>Intriguingly, some of the whisky was regularly delivered to a boat in Stonehaven. No doubt it was moved on down the coast or it may even have found itself sailing for the continent, perhaps to a niche market for the Peat-reek. The Glenlivet whisky was always the most expensive of the illicit varieties of "Golden Spirit" but there were always plenty of customers because demand regularly outstripped supply.<br /></span><br /><span>For most gaugers, tackling the smugglers was a no-win situation. Working in relatively unknown territory (it was policy to move them away from home), despised, offered no local help, and subject to constant abuse with the ever-present threat of physical attack, they did a rather lonely and ill-paid job.<br />Their two main tactics were either to find the elusive stills or seize the whisky in transit. Neither task was easy to execute. There were look-outs ready to warn of their</span><br /><span>approach, and the stills were easily hidden. The transit routes, usually along pony- tracks in the old hill paths or through the drove roads, were used under cover of darkness and the pony-trains were well protected by stout highlanders. Stopping a convoy almost guaranteed a battle in which the excise men were usually outnumbered. It was a dangerous job.<br /></span><br /><span>Once the whisky got to town it was soon dispersed. The bladder men and bladder women supplied the customers. The bladders of whisky were easily concealed by the lassies under their bodices or under their skirts: many pretended to be pregnant. Once delivered to the customer, the whisky was drunk within days. The evidence didn't hang around for very long. The price in 1820 was 2p a gill or 60p a gallon.<br /></span><br /><span>Gillespie's money troubles grew in the 1820s simply because his seizures were rapidly drying up. The reason was that the law had changed. The 1823 Excise Act changed the rules in such a way that legal distillation was encouraged. Much of the rationale behind the Act stemmed from a plea in the House of Lords by the Fourth Duke of Gordon. He realised the importance of whisky to the Highland economy and that it could become even more important if we encouraged the skilful distillers to produce the product legally. Otherwise the losing battle against the smugglers would continue unabated. Areas where the Excise Men were successful became depopulated. Birse was one such area. It was estimated that in that year some 2 million illicit gallons were produced in the Highlands. In 1823 some 14,000 seizures were to be made, the same amount occurred over each of the next two years.<br /></span><br /><span>It couldn't go on like this. The 1823 Act offered a cheap annual licence of &pound;10 plus a set payment of 12p per proof gallon for every still of 40 gallons or more. Landowners were to be held responsible for illicit stills found on their estates. This was a complete turnaround. Since the 1788 Excise Act stills of less than 100 gallon capacity had been illegal. Now the small time producer could have his licence. The tax per proof g<br /></span><br /><span>Captured stills were a source of income to the Excise men. They were paid for their confiscations and were rewarded a percentage of the fines. Gillespie did well until 1825: thereafter, the seizures virtually dried up. His debts were mounting. He had even taken out heavy insurances on his home - and he planned to burn it down but was arrested for fraud before he could do so. <br /><br />The first smuggler to break into legality was George Smith a farmer who became manager of the Glenlivet Distillery built less than half a mile from the site of his former illicit still at Upper Drumin. It wasn't all plain sailing for him. His neighbours regarded him at first as a traitor. At the opening of the distillery he had been given a brace of pistols by the Laird of Aberlour - and he needed them to protect his property. The distillery was never left unattended; his brothers and their fellow workers were always armed with the pistols. By the end of 1824 he was producing 100 gallons a week. Three neighbouring distilleries in the Glen set up in 1825-26 were all burned down by the resentful smugglers. George was a heavily-bearded stocky 6-footer and was never challenged to fight - but a notorious smuggler called Shaw tried to kill him in his sleep. George survived; he took his pistols to bed with him.<br /></span><br /><span>George Smith did, however, struggle to meet the financial demands of the new</span><br /><span>business. A lot of money has to be laid out before the customers' cash rolls in. There are a lot more overheads in legitimate business than in the smuggling sector. It was a huge learning curve. He was lucky in that he had a factor who believed in what George was doing. James Skinner had been appointed factor to the Duke of Gordon in 1824. He faced the huge problem of rent arrears. Distilling could pay off the arrears. Skinner advanced just over &pound;231, a fortune, to keep the Glenlivet distillery afloat. By the time George Smith died in 1871, production had reached 18,000 gallons per week. Today it sells 6 million bottles per year.<br /></span><br /><span>The golden years of smuggling were over. It was a mixed blessing. Suppressing the smuggling is closely linked to depopulation throughout the highlands and islands. This is dramatically shown in the population decline in the Orkney Isles of Stroma, Swona and Shapinsay where whisky had long been the main cash crop. The little isolated communities couldn't survive without the income. Illicit distilling didn't disappear overnight but the product was no longer distilled to be sold. The remote stills were still used for domestic consumption among family and friends. Even as late as 1880 it was reckoned that there were around 50 illegal stills to every legal one, but the rate of prosecutions had fallen to 20 a year. The emigrant Highlanders took their skills with them to Canada, Australia and New Zealand. They also took them to the Scottish cities.<br /></span><br /><span>One of the difficulties of setting up a still in the towns was camouflaging the smell. In 1860 in Aberdeen there were complaints from the neighbours in James Street about the activities of John Moncrieff. It was claimed that he had been slaughtering the odd pig and was even accused of boiling down cattle hooves. On investigation, it was found that he was also producing whisky which he supplied to the local publicans. He was charged along with his wife Janet,and his labourer, Robert Davidson. They were fined &pound;30 each, couldn't pay, and had to serve 3 months in prison.<br /></span><br /><span>The temptation to produce a drop of the craitur didn't go away in a hurry. Family weddings required a good drop of the real stuff, as did Hogmanay. The week prior to Hogmanay 1867 saw two seizures in Aberdeen. The first still was discovered in a back shop in East Green, it was using the water from the diverted Flour Mill burn. The shop was rented to a Mr Ross, an ex-brewer from George Street. On 1st January 1868 he was fined &pound;30 which he could not pay and spent 3 months in jail. The second case was reported on 18 March 1868 in the Aberdeen Journal. It concerned an illicit still found at number 5, The Green, on 27 December 1867. Three men were charged - Marshall Adams (alias Peter Brown), James Allan and David Welsh. Adams had only just moved into the town from Oldmeldrum and had been unwittingly sucked into the ploy. He was fined &pound;10; the others were fined &pound;300.<br /></span><br /><span>Meanwhile the illicit trade continued in a modest way in the remote hinterland. The workers building Balmoral Castle provided a lucrative and thirsty market, as did the garrison troops at Braemar. The present Lochnagar Distillery, the next door neighbour of Balmoral, is on the site of Charles Robertson&rsquo;s famous mill &ndash; and still. The original legal distillery was burned down by the smugglers in 1826. The new site across the river was opened by John Begg in 1845: he entertained Victoria and Albert in 1848 and obtained the royal Warrant. The workmen, however, went shopping elsewhere.<br /></span><br /><span>Whisky smuggling revived for a time during the Prohibition era in the USA</span><br /><span>1920-1934. There were smuggling routes into the States from Canada, Cuba and the West Indies. The main route for Scotch whisky was via Nassau in the Bahamas. Cutty Sark was specially blended for the American palate in 1923. Their main agent- runner Bill McCoy guaranteed that it was neither tampered with nor adulterated - it was indeed "the real McCoy". It tapped a huge market among the Americans who were denied their usual Bourbon or Rye Whiskey. The Canadian companies of Hiram Walker and Seagram also created markets in the states at this time.<br /></span><br /><span>The next episode in the smuggling story came in February 1941 when the S.S. Politician was wrecked off Eriskay with 24,000 tons of spirits, mainly whisky in some 21,000 cases in its Number 5 Hold. At least 2,000 cases were looted (24,000 bottles). Compton Mackenzie captured the cunning and ingenuity of the moment in his hilarious "Whisky Galore&rdquo;. It was made into an Ealing comedy in 1949. Bottles continue to be found in their shallow graves, originally marked by plants. They are collector's items - probably quite undrinkable but precious to our national traditions. The relatively unknown sequel to that story is that SS Politician also carried on board some 8 cases of currency destined for the West Indies. It consisted of 290,000 ten shilling notes. Some 2329 of these were eventually presented at banks in Scotland, England, Ireland, Switzerland, Malta, Canada, the USA and Jamaica. To this day there are still over 76,000 notes unaccounted for.<br /></span><br /><span>Relics of the old smuggling trade re-emerge from time to time. John Stewart, a 90 year old antique dealer tried to sell a still at Stonehaven Auction Mart &ndash; and had it seized by Customs. A couple building a house extension in Braemar, found a hidden bothy. Hillwalkers sometimes stumble across the old sites in the hills around Strathisla, or Crathie or Corgarff or Strathdon. There is even a site at Westhill that operated under the nose of Malcolm Gillespie.<br /></span><br /><span>Today the real smuggling story is of counterfeit whisky, some of it potentially lethal with high levels of methanol, finding its way here from Spain and Eastern Europe. It finds a market because it is tax free and therefore cheap. Politicians first taxed the barrel, then the bottle, and are now charging the unit of alcohol</span><br /><span>.<br />Will Fyffe, a music hall star noted for his songs and sketches was born in Dundee but wrote &ldquo;I Belong To Glasgow&rdquo;. He wrote a popular song bemoaning the soaring price of whisky: In 1929 Chancellor Austen Chamberlain in his budget increased the price of a bottle of whisky by 2 shillings and 6 pence, adding 20% to the price: it prompted this music hall refrain<br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s twelve and a tanner a bottle<br />That&rsquo;s what its costin&rsquo; today<br />Twelve and a tanner a bottle -<br />Man it takes a&rsquo; your pleasure away.<br />Afore ye can hae a wee drappie<br />You have to spend a&rsquo; that you&rsquo;ve got<br />How can a fella be happy<br />When happiness costs such a lot?&rdquo;<br />There&rsquo;s taxes on this, taxes on that,<br />While the people grow lean,<br />the officials grow fat,<br />You have to admit,</span><br /><span>it's a bit underhand<br />Putting a tax on the breath of the land&rdquo; Its twelve and a tanner the bottle, etc</span><br /><br /><span>It now seems like a memoir of a golden age! By World War 1, the duty on a bottle was 9p: by World War 2 the duty had soared to 48p. By 1990 the duty had reached &pound;5.55. The Scots on holidays abroad were filling their cases with whisky to take home. Spain imported it for the Scots to take home. It defies logic.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><span>Now where is that old recipe - and what is the name of that friendly plumber &ndash; and where can I buy decent malt?</span></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Neil Cooney's City Centre Tour]]></title><link><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/neil-cooneys-city-centre-tour]]></link><comments><![CDATA[https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/neil-cooneys-city-centre-tour#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sat, 13 Feb 2021 18:30:53 GMT</pubDate><category><![CDATA[talk]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">https://aberdeenhistorysociety.weebly.com/articles/neil-cooneys-city-centre-tour</guid><description><![CDATA[We start the tour at the Union Street entrance to the Town House.The Whipping-StoneAt the corner of Union Street and Broad Street we see the cobbles marking where public whippings took place. The Hangman&rsquo;s duties included &ldquo;scourging, burning and tormenting&rdquo;. In really bad cases e.g. repeat offenders, the whipping would be through the streets of the town. Crowds would gather to witness the whippings.In 1640, a woman convicted of &ldquo;unbecoming behaviour&rdquo; was scourged an [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="paragraph"><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">We start the tour at the Union Street entrance to the Town House.</span><br /><br /><strong><em style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">The Whipping-Stone</em></strong><br /><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">At the corner of Union Street and Broad Street we see the cobbles marking where public whippings took place. The Hangman&rsquo;s duties included &ldquo;scourging, burning and tormenting&rdquo;. In really bad cases e.g. repeat offenders, the whipping would be through the streets of the town. Crowds would gather to witness the whippings.</span><br /><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">In 1640, a woman convicted of &ldquo;unbecoming behaviour&rdquo; was scourged and then &ldquo;drawn in a cart through the streets, bearing a paper crown on her head, the bellman going before proclaiming her offence&rdquo;. She was then banished.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><span style="color:rgb(42, 42, 42)">Women being whipped often had to wear the scold&rsquo;s bridle: whipping of women was ended in 1817, whipping of men continued indoors after 1830. The practice remained well into the 20th century with the birching of young male offenders until the system was abolished in 1948&nbsp;</span></div>  <div>  <!--BLOG_SUMMARY_END--></div>  <div class="paragraph"></div>  <div class="paragraph"><br /><strong><em><span>Concert Court</span></em></strong><br /><span>We now move along Broad Street to the sign for Concert Court. Here in the 18th century there were weekly concerts performed by the Aberdeen Musical Society. One of the regular musicians on the violin was Francis Peacock the dance-master and miniaturist who gave his name to Peacock&rsquo;s Close. Other musicians included James Beattie, Professor of Moral Philosophy and John Gregory, the Professor of Medicine.</span><br /><br /><span>The Concert Hall is no longer there but on the site we now have the palatial Advocate&rsquo;s Hall which was cleverly placed there in the 1870s to form a direct link to the Sheriff court. It was designed by James Matthews, a future Lord Provost (1883-5).Matthews also designed the new Grammar School. The site of Concert Hall was originally called Huxter Row, home of the &ldquo;Lemon Tree&rdquo; hostelry, and the street in which Robert Gordon was born.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>The Netherkirkgate</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was simply the low road to the Mither Kirk One of the city gates stood here by the Well-House where Benholm&rsquo;s Lodgings stood on the site now occupied by Marks and Spencer.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>Guestrow</span></em></strong><br /><span>This is one of the oldest streets in Aberdeen; it is listed from the early 15th century. The name means &ldquo;the road of the ghosts&rdquo;, a reference to&nbsp;</span><span>the spirit said to lurk in the graveyard of St Nicholas Kirk. A 1439 Charter calls it the Vicus Lemurum (Street of the Spectres)</span><br /><br /><span>It was once one of the more desirable streets in town and housed some of our wealthier citizens. Archibald Simpson was born into number 15 in 1790, the son of a successful tailor. The house next door, number 17 became home to the first Aberdeen Savings Bank in 1838.</span><br /><br /><span>By the end of the 19th century, the area had degenerated into a rough and overcrowded slum, &ldquo;The Gush&rdquo;, and was gradually demolished 1930-32 to make way for the widening of Broad Street. For a time the cleared area served as site for the travelling Cadona&rsquo;s carnival and served as a car park.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><em><strong><span>Carnegie&rsquo;s Brae</span></strong></em><br /><span>When Union Street was constructed, it was built on arches bridging over the old low lying wynds. Carnegie&rsquo;s Brae is a classic example of the construction method. Building the arch involved slum clearance in the whole Putachieside area. Progress came at the price of human hardship.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>Provost Skene&rsquo;s House</span></em></strong><br /><span>This is the oldest domestic dwelling in Aberdeen and dates back to 1545, in the pre- Reformation era when Mary Queen was a 3 year old. The house is a good example of buildings constructed from gathered granite rubble, the type of dwellings being built in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by the richer burgesses to replace the timber and thatch dwellings of the late middle ages. The oldest part is the block to the west (furthest from Broad Street)</span><br /><br /><span>Over the years it had a series of rich owners. Bishop Blackburn, the minister of St Nicholas once owned it. The first major extension to the house was under the ownership of Matthew Lumsden who paid for the unique painted ceiling decorated with devotional panels, probably painted by Flemish artists. Lumsden was killed in the Covenanting skirmishes in 1639.</span><br /><br /><span>The next extension was built by Provost George Skene (1676-84), a merchant who had made his fortune in Danzig. This was his town house, he modernised it in the 1670s, adding the eastern staircase and turrets and changed the windows. All decorative features at this time, such as window margins, had to be in soft sandstone.</span><br /><br /><span>The house was twice occupied by the military.In 1639 the Loyalist forces of Lord Aboyne stayed here after their surprise victory at the &ldquo;Trot of Turra&rdquo;: they were later defeated in the Battle of the Brig o&rsquo; Dee by Montrose&rsquo;s Covenanters.</span><br /><span>In 1746, the Duke of Cumberland, chasing Bonnie Prince Charlie northwards, stayed here for six weeks, depleted the cellars and ruined the linen: the canny Council still honoured him as a Freeman.</span><br /><br /><span>The old house, through inheritance, fell into the hands of Elisabeth Duthie, of Duthie Park fame: she rented it in the late 19th century as the Victorian Lodging House and its decline thereafter was rapid. The building was saved from demolition following a long campaign. It was eventually refurbished by the Council, and opened by the Queen Mother in 1953. It incorporates some other features from the area, such as the gargoyle at the east gable, known as Russell&rsquo;s Head and designed to frown on a hated neighbour. The gargoyle was saved during the demolition of Ragg&rsquo;s Lane in 1959. The Russell family bakery business was shut down due to reasons of hygiene: George Russell always blamed the neighbour, Alexander Stephen, who was an ironmonger.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><em><strong><span>St Nicholas House</span></strong></em><br /><span>These municipal headquarters were built between 1962 and 1970. The whole complex cost &pound;1.9 million and consists of a 15 storey tower as well as 3 storey offices along the frontage of Broad Street and Upperkirkgate. The 15 storey block was vacated by the end of August 2011 when the move to a revamped Marischal college took place.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>Upperkirkgate</span></em></strong><br /><span>The Upperkirkgate Port was the last of Aberdeen&rsquo;s gates to be demolished, in 1794,&nbsp;</span><span>on the excuse that it was a traffic hazard. Above the gateway was a room used as the first police office. Many of the original houses were built gable end to the street, to save space. The old Wedding Bell building is a clear example of that type of building.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>Marischal College</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was founded as a new University in April 1593 by the 4th Earl Marischal on land that once housed the Greyfriars of the Franciscan Order. The current buildings are of 2 distinct granite eras using different granite worked by different techniques. The inner quadrangle houses the Rubislaw stone buildings of Archibald Simpson&rsquo;s 1837 design. They were completed in 1844, cost &pound;30,000 and are dominated by the 235 feet of Mitchell Tower.</span><br /><br /><span>The Gothic frontage by Marshall Mackenzie which was started in the 1890s is in Kemnay granite and is a masterpiece of the granite carver&rsquo;s art, mixing the clean blocks of granite with artistic fretting. It was opened in 1906 by King Edward VII</span><br /><span>The heraldic shields over the gateway are much photographed but little understood. They depict from left to right &ndash; Lord Strathcona, the Chancellor of the University: Old Aberdeen: Bishop Elphinstone: The University: Earl Marischal: The City of Aberdeen: The Mitchell Family.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>The Town House Extension</span></em></strong><br /><span>The foundation stone was laid by Lord Provost Robert Lennox in November 1975 and the building was officially opened by the Queen in 1977.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>The New Town House 1868-74</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was originally going to be built in sandstone until John Fyfe of Kemnay offered granite at a very competitive rate. The style is partly Flemish (in memory of the rich trade links) with a touch of the neo-medieval, so-loved by Victorian architects.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>The Sheriff Court</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was incorporated into the impressive Town House frontage in the early 1870s. The Sheriff Court records, the most complete in Scotland, date back to 1523. The court used to meet in the old Tolbooth although bigger trials were often heard in larger private houses.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Tolbooth</span></em></strong><br /><span>There have been Tolbooths on this site since 1393. The present one dates back to 1616: it was built by Thomas Watson of Old Rayne. The steeple, spire and balustrade were added in 1629. A further extension in 1640 served as a Council Chamber until the grand new building of the late 1860s. The clock tower dates back to 1817.</span><br /><br /><span>The crowded cells witnessed terrible suffering over the years. They were packed not only by crooks but by persecuted Quakers throughout the 17th century. In the 18th century the inmates were often Jacobites. In 1746 in the round-up following Culloden, some 150 Jacobites were incarcerated there, unbelievably 96 at one time, jammed in like herrings in a barrel.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><span><strong><em>The East Prison</em></strong></span><br /><span>The cells were eventually replaced by the new Bridewell (West Prison) in the Chapel Street area in 1808. In 1831 a holding prison, mainly for those awaiting trial. The&nbsp;</span><span>East Prison was built as an extension to the Tolbooth and lasted until 1891 when it was replaced by the new prison at Craiginches. The site then was used for a new Police headquarters in 1895.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Hanging Stone</span></em></strong><br /><span>Until the late 18th century, hangings took place on Gallows Hill (at the Trinity cemetery end of Errol Street). There was also a Heading Hill for executions using Aberdeen&rsquo;s guillotine, &ldquo;The Maiden&rdquo;. Common criminals were hanged, richer folk were beheaded.</span><br /><br /><span>From 1776 public hangings took place outside the Tolbooth, the victim facing down Marischal Street. The gallows would be erected the day before the hanging: the prisoner traditionally ate a hearty breakfast after the very disturbed night&rsquo;s sleep listening to the hammering of the construction squad. The body was sometimes offered to Marischal college for dissection.</span><br /><br /><span>Stones at the side of the road mark the stop where the gallows were erected. The last public hanging in Aberdeen was in 1857 when John Booth was convicted of killing his mother-in-law (who had been trying to defend her daughter)&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>King Street</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was opened in 1801 following the New Streets Act of April 1800. Although it started off well, with grand buildings at the Castlegate end, it never matched Union Street and eventually settles into a sober suburban roadway.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>Clydesdale Bank</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was the key site, the important hinge that joined the 2 new streets. Archibald Simpson&rsquo;s design does it justice. His curved corner features giant Corinthian columns surmounted by a statue of Ceres, the Goddess of Plenty, (which most locals take to be Queen Victoria) with her cornucopia. It was built in well-worked granite blocks in 1839-42. It replaced the New Inn above which the masons had a lodge, reached from the rear entrance, in a lane still known as Lodge Walk.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><strong><em><span>The Medico-Chirurgical Building.</span></em></strong><br /><span>Number 29 King Street was built 1818-20 to plans by Archibald Simpson for a medical society founded in 1789 by 12 young doctors, led by Thomas McGrigor, who later was instrumental in founding the Army Medical Corps. MrGrigor&rsquo;s memorial is the obelisk that stands proudly in the Duthie Park and is still referred to as Cleopatra&rsquo;s needle.<br />&#8203;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Arts Centre</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was built as the North Church in 1828-30 by John Smith. It is a beautiful building with a 4 column Ionic portico facing Queen Street with a square tower with a cylindrical &ldquo;tower of winds&rdquo;(following the Athenian model) at the top stage (usually referred to locally as the &ldquo;pepper-pot&rdquo;). It is built in the style of St Pancras Church in London.&nbsp;<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>St Andrew&rsquo;s Cathedral</span></em></strong><br /><span>This Gothic design in 1816 gave Archibald Simpson his first major commission in Aberdeen. It was a &pound;6000 project. It is largely a granite building with a sandstone fa&ccedil;ade facing King Street. It opened in 1817 as St Andrew&rsquo;s Chapel and was raised to Cathedral status in 1914. By then a front porch had been added in 1911.&nbsp;</span><br /><span>The Episcopal Church has strong links with the Episcopal Church on the USA. The USA&rsquo;s first Episcopal Bishop, Samuel Seabury, was ordained in Aberdeen, in the upper floor of Bishop Skinner&rsquo;s house in Longacre that served as a chapel, on 14 November 1784 by Skinner the Episcopal Bishop of Aberdeen. Longacre was a lane off Broad Street. Seabury had studied at Yale and Edinburgh University: he couldn&rsquo;t be ordained in England because, as an American, he could not take the loyal oath.<br /></span><br /><span>A grateful American Episcopal Church wanted to mark the 150th anniversary of the event by building a replacement Cathedral in Broad Street, on the site of the present Town house extension. The Wall Street Crash put paid to that idea, but the Cathedral was extensively renovated with a new extension, a heraldic ceiling with shields of all the American states, and a memorial to Seabury. The Cathedral boasts a fine reed organ, has first-class acoustics, and had maintained a high musical tradition over the years.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>La Lombarda</span></em></strong><br /><span>This claims to be the oldest Italian restaurant in Scotland. It didn&rsquo;t always have such a grand title: many Aberdonians still remember it fondly as Joe Birnie&rsquo;s Caf&eacute;.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Castlegate</span></em></strong><br /><span>The castle dated from at least the early 13th century. It was in need of repair in 1264 and the work was done by Richard Cementarius, Richard the Mason, Aberdeen&rsquo;s first recorded Provost (1272).<br /></span><br /><span>It was a Royal Castle, permanently occupied, and had its own Constable: it is possible that Edward I, &ldquo;Hammer of the Scots&rdquo; stayed there in 1296.&nbsp;</span><span>It was destroyed along with its English garrison during Robert the Bruce&rsquo;s struggle for the throne, probably in 1308.. A second Castle was built there by General Monck for Oliver Cromwell in 1651-2. There was then a lengthy military presence when the Barracks were built during the French Wars in 1794-6: they housed 600 men. In the 1930s the Gordon Highlanders used it as a depot. The site also played home to a Chapel in the 16th century and even housed Aberdeen&rsquo;s first lighthouse. The Barracks eventually were used as emergency housing after World War II, before being demolished and replaced by the tower blocks, Virginia court and Marischal Court.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Salvation Army Citadel</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was built in 1896 by James Souttar. It replaced the 1789 Records Office. It was deliberately built where it was most needed &ndash; to serve the slums around the Barracks. Its castle design, based on Balmoral Castle, was deliberately symbolic. Here was a place of refuge for sinners. It also reminds us of the medieval castle that gives the square its name. Bill Brogden astutely described the Citadel as &ldquo;Tinkerbell&rsquo;s Castle&rdquo;. The design is such that it dominates the Castlegate.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Justice Port</span></em></strong><br /><span>One of the city&rsquo;s lockable gates through which condemned men were taken from the Tolbooth to the Gallows Hill. Their heads would soon afterwards be on display above the gate. Local folklore suggests that Wallace&rsquo;s left foot was displayed there, but there is no evidence to support that story, In 1650, however, one of the Marquis of Montrose&rsquo;s arms was displayed there (this disappointed some councillors who had been promised a leg). At the other side of the Citadel site was the Futtie Port whose hinge pins still survive in the gable of 4 Castle Terrace. The Terrace was built over an&nbsp;</span><span>old lane called Hangman&rsquo;s Brae (the municipal hangman lived there)<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><strong><em><span>The Mercat Cross</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was erected in 1696 by John Montgomery at the cost of &pound;100 plus materials. It is a sandstone gem and it shows great craftsmanship and imaginative design. The market was the centre of Aberdeen&rsquo;s prosperity. Fittingly the cross is the finest survivor of its type in Scotland.<br /></span><br /><span>Public punishments often took place here, ranging from branding on the cheeks to locking drunks in the stocks. Big public proclamations were made here. All kings and queens have been proclaimed here. The cross itself is decked with a portrait gallery of the monarchs from James I to James VII.<br /></span><br /><span>There was a locked staircase to the roof for public announcements. In 1745 the Jacobites couldn&rsquo;t find the key, so they searched out the Provost and all the councillors and paraded them all on the roof so that they could toast the Young Pretender. Provost James Morison (1744-5 and 1752-3) refused and had the wine poured over his vest. In later years the Mercat Cross even served as Post Office. It is still a lovely sandstone flower in the centre of the granite heart of the city.<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>Union Street</span></em></strong><br /><span>From the Castlegate we get a good view of the mile-long expanse of Union Street. This was designed in the 1790s by Charles Abercrombie as an elevated street linking the Castlegate to the extensive plain to the west. It involved wholesale clearance of mainly poor quality housing, topping some 15 feet off St Catherine&rsquo;s Hill, bridging and in-filling the many wynds, and bridging the Denburn. It was an ambitious project that had to be driven through many obstacles. The main drivers were two very energetic Provosts, Thomas Leys (1797-8 and 1803-4) and James Hadden (1801-2, 1809-10, 1813-14, and 1830-31). Leys provided the vision, Hadden provided the clout.<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>Marischal Street</span></em></strong><br /><span>The Earl Marischal&rsquo;s Lodging was a very grand quadrangular building designed to house dozens of gentlemen in style. It lay empty when the Earl and his brother James Keith, as Jabobites, earned their living abroad, in Germany. James became a famous Field-Marshal in the Prussian Army; the Earl developed lucrative business contacts. The Earl willingly sold his Lodging to the Council for &pound;803. It was demolished to clear the way for a new road linking the Castlegate to the harbour. Marischal Street was laid 40 foot wide, the first in Aberdeen to be paved with granite setts. It is our best Georgian Street. The houses were built of granite ashlar, of the softer type from the shallow quarry, and therefore easier to work. The street was much admired by Dr Johnson on his visit in 1773. He described the granite as &ldquo;beautiful&rdquo;. It was a very desirable residential area; its residents included the artists Andrew Robertson and William Dyce. It also contained the Theatre Royal which opened in 1794: it is long gone, but behind it you can still find Theatre Lane.<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>The Bank of Scotland</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was the first public building of its age. It was built in 1801 on the neo-classical design of James Burn for the then Union Bank. It is finished with a lovely balustrade, and it set the tone for buildings in Union Street.<br /></span><br /><span><strong><em>The Plane Stanes Well</em></strong>&nbsp;</span><br /><span>The Planstanes were a traditional meeting place for businessmen discussing potential ideas for future contracts and deals. They would walk around the paved area that was surrounded by the fishwives from Cove, Findon and Portlethan plying their wares.<br /></span><br /><span>It was at the Planestanes that the future Lord Byron, as a boy from Broad Street would meet his cousin Mary Duff from the Castlegate: she was his first love. There were less romantic moments of the planestanes. In 1763 two gentlemen who had been drinking in the nearby New Inn, quarrelled and immediately duelled with pistols on the planestanes. Abernethy of Mayen shot Leith of Leith-Hall through the head. The Well dates from 1706 and reminds us of Aberdeen&rsquo;s first public water supply. At each of the four corners there is a grotesque head that once acted as a water spout. The &ldquo;Mannie&rdquo; was originally made of wood, he is now made of lead, and he has moved around the Castlegate, spent many years in the Green and for a time was ignominiously locked away in a store. The Mannie returned home in 1972.<br />&nbsp;</span><br /><u><em><span>Exchequer Row</span></em></u><br /><span>This was once the top residential area in the city. Its name reminds us of the mint that was set up there at the end of the 12th century by William the Lion.&nbsp;<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>The Union Buildings</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was built to the design of Archibald Simpson in 1819-22; it involves very fine smooth ashlar work shaped by the new system of hammer and puncheon (chisel) that replaced the earlier method of working with a pick. Facing the Castlegate was the Athenaeum News Room, transferred from more modest premises in Exchequer Row, it was essentially a library and reading-room owned by Alexander Brown (Provost 1822-3 and 1826-7). The idea never made money although he tried to make it work for some 20 years: he paid &pound;12,000 for it and sold it his employee, the attendant James Blake, for &pound;5. Blake eventually off-loaded it as a temporary court- room whilst the new Sheriff Court was being built. It then became a famous and successful restaurant under Jimmy Hay, who had learned his trade at the Royal Hotel. It remained as a fine restaurant until the 1970s. In 1973, it was gutted by fire. It currently serves as offices.<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>The Shiprow</span></em></strong><br /><span>This slopes and carves its way to the harbour round St Katherine&rsquo;s Hill; it is probably even older than the Castlegate. For centuries it was known as Shiprow Brae. It was another area for the rich to dwell. In 1648 the residents were so fed up with the squatters and ne&rsquo;er-do-wells partying in the disused Chapel at the top of the hill that they were granted permission to build a dyke round the area with a locked gate available to open to residents only. It cured the problem.<br /></span><br /><strong><em><span>Provost Ross&rsquo;s House: The Maritime Museum</span></em></strong><br /><span>This was built in 1593, probably by Andrew Jamesone, the master-mason father of George Jamesone the famous portrait-painter. It is the second oldest dwelling house in the city. It was built for Robert Watson and his wife Margaret Collie. It takes its name from its most famous resident, the ship-owning Provost John Ross of Arnage. It was rescued from ruin in 1952 and has since been rejuvenated as part of the much-loved Maritime Museum which also incorporates the 1877 Trinity Congregational Church.</span></div>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>