Farrareefae? – The antidote to time-share touts
Some time ago the editor of the Leopard gave a very interesting talk to the Cults 050 Group. Afterwards I told her about an incident that occurred in Barcelona and she asked me to share the story.
Four of us were on holiday in Madeira and time-share touts would try to interest us in their accommodation. We tried to ignore them, but one kept going on in a Brummie accent until my sister got fed up and said, “Ah dinna ken fit ye’re spikkin aboot”.
“Ah! Francoise,” said the rep and walked away. (I think she meant ‘Francaise’.)
On holiday with friends in Sorrento we went on a bus trip to see temple ruins. The only seat was beside a schoolgirl of about 12 years old. Should I speak to her? I decided to risk it and we had an interesting conversation in English about her hopes for the future.
A lady in the seat behind, her mother, leaned forward and asked “Farrarreefae?” Snap! They were from Aberdeen, too.
The same four of us were walking down La Rambla in Barcelona. A beggar started on the farthest person from me.
I must describe him. It was a very warm day, but this beggar was wearing a raincoat. No fear of sunstroke because the sleeves hardly came past his elbows and did not reach his knees, the material having rotted away. No shoes or socks. His skin was filthy, as was his straggly beard.
He arrived at my elbow and rambled on in snippets of Spanish, German, French and English. I ignored him until he took hold of my sleeve. So I said, certain it would see him off, “Ah dinna ken fit ye’re spikkin aboot”. To my utter astonishment he replied, “Ah! Bleddy Aiberdeen!”. I went into fits of laughter and gave him all the change in my pocket.
We parted on the friendly terms and he insisted on shaking hands. Our hotel was only about 100 yards away and I hurried back so that I could disinfect myself of the exotic life forms I had acquired.
Try the Doric abroad. It could bring interesting results.
Walter Burnett, walterhburnett@btinternet.com
Talented Aberdeen artist and prisoner of war
My late uncle John Mennie was born in Aberdeen on 26 November 1911. We have recently celebrated the the 100th anniversary of his birth. He died while on holiday in Highland Perthshire on 24 August 1982.
John George Mennie trained at Grays School of Art in Aberdeen. Some of his art refers to his time as a Far East Prisoner of War (FEPoW). After the war he lived and taught at an art college in London until he retired. He also had a Saturday stall at Portobello Road Market.
The Imperial War Museum have archived 56 of his wartime works of art which he donated in 1978. I have been informed they are currently reviewing their collection of artworks by FEPoW artists and that the works by John Mennie are judged to have a high significance, both as an authentic witness and as works of art.
I have created a website in his honour johngmennie.co.uk : Artist and Prisoner of War.
On the Antiques Road Show from Manchester on 18 September 2011 a member of the public came along with 33 postcard size portrait sketches of PoWs done in captivity which the IWM have verified as genuine.
They were found in the possession of a fellow PoW and discovered after his death. The story was covered in the national press. There are issues with copyright. I have been in contact with the family in the hope of buying them or getting photographs of the pictures for the website, but it seems they have no real interest and want to sell to the highest bidder.
As my uncle was a student at Grays School of Art in Aberdeen, I thought it appropriate to bring to your notice the 100 anniversary of his birth. If any readers knew my uncle or have any information to improve the website I would very pleased to hear from them. I can be contacted through the website at johngmennie@hotmail.co.uk
Alex Gordon, Elgin
I only went out for gulls’ eggs on the cliffs
In 1955 I was solo climbing up a cliff at Longhaven, near Peterhead, for Herring Gulls’ eggs. My mum used them for baking, and I ate them. When I came down, a group of young fellows with ropes were all watching me. One came over and spoke: he told me to pack in climbing for gulls’ eggs and take up climbing in the Cairngorms instead.
The group were from the Lairig Club of Aberdeen Uni. and were out doing training climbs. Apparently I’d just climbed up and then down, one of their climbs classified as ‘Difficult’.
The fellow spoke to me for about an hour, and all the others drifted off to climb. He spoke very earnestly, telling me I was a natural climber, and would find climbing in the corries of the hills a dawdle. He showed me a climb of his, did it solo to demonstrate techniques, and told me it was classified Very Severe. This was Tom Patey, musician, poet, writer, doctor, Scottish climber, and later Alpinist, Himalayan mountaineer, Marines commando, and the greatest climber Scotland ever produced. He implored me to take up climbing.
He so inspired me, I did what he suggested, and two years later solo-ed his Longhaven climb. I had joined the Etchachan Club of Aberdeen, and the working class generation of my day, from all the trades in Aberdeen, who chose to put themselves through rites of passage in the hills. With second hand, ex-army gear, and new ropes, we were part of a social phenomenon: we were working class youth challenging life. Our rivals were the Lairig Club of Aberdeen University.
Our clothing and gear were terrible, but being Aberdonians we were tough and aye hard up, and we did huge hikes through the hills, to remote corries, just to climb. Summer and winter. Rain or shine. We were never happier than being there in the great playground of the Cairngorms. Some of us in the Trades
Fortnight went to the French Alps and climbed on the smell of an oily rag, living on bread and coffee.
Tom Patey was killed climbing, and so were Ronnie Sellars, Jerry Smith, Jim McCartney, and others in our Aberdeen clique. Others from outside our area, who came to climb and were adopted by us, were also killed: Carruthers in the Alps, Clough in the Himalayas, Smith in the Pamirs, and yet others such as McInnes and Bonington somehow managed to survive and scratch old heads.
The Cairngorms by Greg Strange tells the history of the past 100 years of climbing in our hills. His view is much broader than mine, and he records everyone who contributed to the exploration of new summer and winter routes on the Cairngorm corrie cliffs. From the Victorian gentlemen, to the post-WW2 generation brought up in bleak poverty, to the modern climbers from all over the UK, with wonderful technical gear and boundless courage, their names and deeds are written down for all time. The book is written with precision and generosity, no clyping tales of what happened on the way to the hills at the Ballater and Braemar dances, and the author, tellingly, briefly comments on social circumstances, when unemployment ravaged Aberdeen in the late 1950s and pushed many climbers to foreign fields.
The people of the book are preserved for all time while at the peak of their abilities, and live on in its pages. The design and even typesetting of the book is by climbers, it is published by climbing interests, and it tells our story. It’s unique.
Fraser Henderson Name and address supplied
Aye, they’ve loupit the Linn
James MacKay asks (Leopard, October) ‘But how many others have loupit the Linn (of Dee) and have any done it both ways?’
I have never jumped across, but often saw deerstalkers Willie Grant of Linn of Dee Cottage and Bob Scott of Luibeg and the Derry, jumping across both ways while they fished for salmon in the late 1940s and early 1950s during early mornings when nobody was about. They never used a rope.
Though unable to swim a stroke, Bob showed no fear and was as sure-footed on the wet rocks as an otter. I described him and Willie jumping across in my recent book It’s A Fine Day For The Hill.
(Dr) Adam Watson, Crathes
Grouse and hen harriers can coexist
I cannot let Graeme Rose’s article (Leopard, October) pass without comment. He makes serious allegations about illegal persecution which I find rather unnecessary.
While we all acknowledge that hen harriers are attractive birds, they are not being systematically culled as Graeme would suggest. I spent a day on an Angus moor in September shooting grouse and was treated to the sight of a harrier working the ground for an hour or two. We had a successful day and the harrier was no trouble.
What is more, my friends and I were generating cash for the estate in question from the shooting, thereby allowing the employment of a gamekeeper who has created a wonderfully diverse area of countryside where biodiversity flourishes.
Grouse and birds of prey can live together. Take away the keepers and birds of prey – by their very nature – will wipe out populations of game and songbirds in no time.
I find it distateful to suggest that every estate with grouse shooting interests is intent on killing every bird of prey. The suggestion that every upland manager is guilty is not only wrong, but an insult to the hard-working men and women whose work leads to a countryside where the public can see wildlife at its best. Take them away and you soon see a desert; no song birds, no game birds, and no birds of prey because there is nothing for them to predate.
The notion that because no harrier is seen in the sky, the person managing the land below has got rid of it shows a sad ignorance of the facts. Using emotive language to imply guilt before proof is counterproductive.
A bit more knowledge and understanding would go a long way.
Andrew Dingwall-Fordyce, Brucklay Estate, Peterhead.
Hiv ye ivver loupit the Linn – baith wyes?
Your headline Lure o the Linn o Dee on the front cover of the August Leopard struck a chord with me. It goes back to the Fifties when I did a lot of climbing and skiing in the Cairngorms.
I happened to be with my friend Sandy Anderson (now resident in Newburgh) visiting a relative of his in Torry. As we were leaving, the relative said to me, “Hiv ye ivver loupit the Linn?”. He made it sound as though you’ve never lived if you haven’t made the leap.
After that, every time I passed the Linn I recalled his words and the lure became increasingly strong. I used to stop and look at the jump. Lengthwise it looked quite feasible and from the north bank one would be jumping downwards on to a rocky ledge. The main problem would be keeping one’s balance on the ledge and then negotiating what looked like an easy rock climb on the face above.
I founded and ran the Outdoor Club at Inverurie Academy and we often spent the October long weekend at what was Inverey School – the boys and male staff in tents, the girls and female staff inside, as it had only one room. Having had a couple of energetic days climbing we were having an easy day, so I said to two of the senior boys whom I knew to be competent and reliable, “Fancy a bit of excitement?”. They were keen.
There had been a lot of rain and the foaming water was rushing through the narrow channel. I tied on to a climbing rope, not that it would help me, but at least if I didn’t make it they wouldn’t be searching for a body! I jumped, managed to hold on and climbed the rock face to the top where I belayed to a tree. Each of the boys then made the jump on a tight rope, so that I could hold them if they came off. They both did it and felt they had achieved something.
How many others have loupit the Linn and have any done it both ways? It would be interesting to know.
James R MacKay,
30 Boat Croft, Kemnay AB51 5GZ
The Friends of Red Harlaw
I refer to my letter (Leopard, September) about the Battle of Harlaw. Following the 600th anniversary ceremonies, the time has come to keep alive the memory of Red Harlaw.
I am considering setting up a Friends of Red Harlaw group for those who have a genuine interest in the history surrounding the battle. This would be a social group, meeting possibly three or four times a year with the following aims:
• to hold an annual dinner in July with an invitee to speak on a subject related to the battle;
• to hold a Remembrance Service at the Chapel of Garioch (the site of Leslie’s Cross) on the closest Sunday to the 24th July;
• to appeal for the re-instatement the lost cairns of Harlaw if possible;
• to act as a repository for all things related to the battle, be it books, ballads and music, for example. In this regard I would like to think that this group could work closely with the Garioch Heritage Society.
If there is an interest in this group, additional aims and objectives can be agreed upon later.
As part of my personal research into the battle I have made many good friends who have similar views, but there are likely to be many more.
Anyone wishing to be part of such a group should contact me by e-mail: albertthomson@ btinternet.com.
The intention is to have a meeting in Inverurie sometime in October and see how those with an interest in the battle wish to move this forward.
Albert Thomson,
Nanaimo, St. Margaret’s Wells, Lethenty, Inverurie AB51 0JN
Let us remember the Battle of Harlaw in Inverurie
Having written to the Lord Provost of Aberdeen and the Provost of Aberdeenshire in February 2007 putting forward a suggestion to commemorate the 600th anniversary of the Battle of Harlaw, I was delighted to see the event recognised.
I managed to attend all three celebrations on Sunday and it is clear that there is real interest in the battle. However, there are many people who do not know about the significance for the area and Scotland as a whole.
How many Herald readers know about the lost cairns of Provost Davidson, Red Hector MacLean and Irvine of Drum and the stories behind them? It was wonderful to see the Leslie’s Cross being re-instated at Chapel of Garioch Church and a new ballad sung to mark the occasion.
How many know the legends relating to the Drum Stone and Ligger’s Stane, all connected with the battle?
Then we have Gilbert de Greenlaw, one of the knights killed at the battle and buried at Kinkell Church. His incised tombstone is visible, well known and widely published.
What is less well know is the magnificent incised tombstone at Foveran Church known as the Turin or Turing Stone and said to commemorate two members of the Turing family of Foveran, killed at Harlaw in 1411.
The battle of Harlaw is an enduring folk memory for the North-East of Scotland and additional interest has been generated during the 600th anniversary celebrations.
I therefore ask the local community, businesses and the council, has the time come to celebrate the battle annually though poetry, music and other events. This would not only be good for business and tourism for a fast developing area, but keep the memory of Harlaw alive.
Could Inverurie support a Battle of Harlaw Festival? Personally, I feel that we have the people, businesses, charitable organisations and a Heritage Society that can help deliver such event.
Let us not forget Harlaw and the subsequent impact upon the town and while doing so, put Inverurie well and truly on the map.
Albert Thomson
St Margaret’s Wells, Lethenty, Inverurie
Aberdeen’s bedrock of Tyneside iron shipbuilding
Could I ask your erudite readers for help in putting parentage on a gifted Aberdonian who went south to become a notable iron shipbuilder with two shipyards on Tyneside, between 1840-1862.
He was John Hanry Sangster Coutts (1810-1862) who declared he was born in Aberdeenshire, son of a farmer, Patrick Coutts.
This sparse information was culled from census returns and marriage certificate and is all the background I have on his beginnings.
John Coutts was the eldest of ‘Three Wise Men’ from Aberdeen who were to be the bedrock of the iron shipbuilding industry on Tyneside from c1840. The others were Charles Mitchell (a benefactor to his hometown university) and the Shetland-born Andrew Leslie.
All three were previously known to each other in Aberdeen and had their own independent shipyards on the Tyne.
John Coutts was adamant he was not related to the banking family of that name, and that he was a partner in the Aberdeen shipyard of John Ronalds, who in 1839 build the well-known iron sailing ship John Garrow.
This seems to have inspired him to go solo and he came South to take up an old wooden shipyard at Low Walker on Tyne, where in 1842 he launched the paddle steamer Prince Albert, destined to ply the Thames estuary. This he claimed to be the first sizeable iron ship built on this river.
Coutts would go on to build in 1844 an iron-hulled barque named Q.E.D., which had an auxiliary steam engine and the (world first) innovative feature of water ballast, carried in double bottoms. This would eventually become the norm in the collier trade and elsewhere, replacing the sand-and-gravel ballast previously used.
This volatile and innovative man would build the largest sailing ships of the day, in his time on Tyneside, but suffered two bankruptcies and died alone and seemingly friendless in 1862, in lowly lodgings in North Shields.
The O.P.R. of Keig in 1794 shows a marriage of one Patrick Coutts of Tough, to a local lassie, Isobel Ronald of Keig.
Can anyone out there confirm or deny that these are his (likely) parents? There may be someone who is linked to that family tree or is researching on similar lines. All suggestions considered and letters answered.
Trusting that your excellent magazine can throw some light.
Ron French, 8 Cottage Road, Wooler, Northumberland, NE71 6AA
frenchr@btinternet.com
How steel measured up to Telford’s iron
I have vivid memories as a junior engineer in the 1960s of clambering through the jungle of trusses on Telford’s Craigellachie Bridge over the River Spey.
The purpose was to survey structural damage because making an arch shallow reduces its strength, contrary to John Nisbet’s analysis (Leopard, April).
Telford produced a beautiful bridge, but at the cost of some fractures of the cast iron struts as traffic weight increased.
To rectify this damage, these struts were replaced with similar ones made from steel.
Not only were they more prone to rust, however, but they were unnecessary. Just a few years later a new bridge enabled Telford’s bridge to be closed to traffic.
Douglas Stewart, BSc, PhD, MIHT, DipTE,
Benview, Peterculter, Aberdeen AB14 0NT