5 Most Soul-Healing Places on Bute

In the post-lockdown era, more people are desperately seeking an escape from chaotic urbanisation and the overwhelming bustle of modern-day capitalism. And who can blame them? While the latter half of this century has turned into consumerist ‘more, more, more’, it seems that many are opting for a ‘less is best’ attitude. Bute offers this much simpler way of life, with plenty of locations to carry out the 3 ‘r’s: Refresh, recentre and recharge. This is also known as ‘nature therapy’, which was extensively researched in Japan in the 90s. It’s true – nature does heal the soul, while also reducing stress and blood pressure. Even just visualising yourself being out in nature has a similar effect. But why ‘visualise’ when you can ‘actualise’? Here are my top 5 most soul-healing places on Bute:

1. Barone Hill

Barone Hill looking toward the Greenan farm. Taken by myself. July 2018.

Barone Hill isn’t always the quietest spot due to its accessible location and beginner-friendly hike but when you get the timing just right, it’s an incredibly rewarding climb. I’ve spent many nights watching the sunset disappear behind the hills, with nothing but the sound of birds flying through the brush. From the top of this hill, you get an entire 360° view. Whichever way you decide to face, there’s so much to take in from this beautiful viewpoint. You can sit and watch the ferry coming and going into Rothesay; or face onto the still waters of the Dhu Loch; or like me, watch the sun setting behind the hills facing toward Greenan farm. It really is a friendly climb that doesn’t take too much time away from your day. Especially when you’re not an experienced climber, there’s a real sense of accomplishment and empowerment when you reach the summit, and what could be more healing in times of self-doubt than that? Seeing Bute from a higher perspective puts a lot of things into perspective. I can’t count the summer nights that I spent there, just feeling grateful for being alive and thankful for having a body that could carry me up there.

2. Glecknabae

Glecknabae. Source: Isle of Bute by John Williams. September 2020.

When you’re on an island, it’s essential that you take advantage of being surrounded by open water. The shore toward Glecknabae and Kilmichael (take a right at Ettrick Bay tea room)is one of my all-time favourite places on the island. It’s often quiet here and for some extra solitude, I recommend visiting in either early mornings or before sunset. This shore offers a welcomed reprieve from what can sometimes be the business of Ettrick Bay. In fact, it’s like Ettrick Bay’s shy little cousin. There’s so many large rocks to perch yourself upon along this shoreline and places where you can be hidden by the overarching trees that look with you across the horizon. I’ve never been disturbed while sitting here; a place to watch your thoughts drift off with the waves and re-enter the town feeling like your brain has just had a bath. There are some places that require very little effort to just simply offer a spiritual sanctuary and for me, this is one of them.

3. Loch Fad

Loch Fad. Source: Isle of Bute by John Williams. July 2017.

That’s the wonderful thing about Bute. It offers the experience of waters in all forms, including Lochs like this. These aren’t just calm waters but virtually still waters. Sometimes even so still that the only movement you see come from the ripples of fish approaching the surface. Like Barone Hill, this place isn’t completely desolate but it does offer a taste of peace and quiet. What really gives this location its power as a soul-healing place is without a doubt the walk that goes with it. The journey is part of the destination for me. Anyone that you do meet on a walk round Loch Fad is usually there for the same reasons as you are and sometimes it’s a race for that white bench that faces out across the scenery. This location also offers a bird hut where your patience is rewarded with a whole range of different bird species from Mallard Ducks to Kingfishers. Not only this, but on the track heading toward Rothesay Academy from Loch Fad, you’ll probably meet a lot of blackbirds, robins and chaffinches chasing each other from side to side through the bushes. These tiny creatures remind us that there’s a lot more to Bute than just its people. There’s always a friend in Nature.

4. Scalpsie Bay

Scalpsie Bay. Source: Isle of Bute by John Williams. June 2020.

Scalpsie is renowned for two things: its cleanliness and its friendly inhabitants; the seals! When being in the company of other people gets too much for you, like it often can, then I recommend swapping it out for the company of seals. Depending on what time you visit, there can be whole squads of these guys lazing on rocks. They’re just a reminder that you don’t always have to be doing something – it’s perfectly okay to be sitting on a rock doing absolutely nothing! Another great thing about Scalpsie is that you don’t even have to be on Scalpsie Bay to experience the calmness of Scalpsie Bay. You can bask in what this beautiful location has to offer from the viewpoint not too far up the hill often called ‘Car Park in the Sky’. This place is usually quiet and combines what I love the most about all of these locations: Seeing Bute from different heights/perspectives and the mental clarity gained from being near water.

5. Kingarth Standing Stones

Kingarth Standing Stones. Blackpark Plantation. Source: Isle of Bute Facebook Page. 2015.

This part of the island carries a unique ethereal ambience; a mystical enchantment that I have felt in no other place. Not just the stones, but the woods itself are majestic. There’s something so humbling about being surrounded by these lanky trees. I’m always reminded when I visit that the world is a vast place, nature is its dominant force and what a beautiful combination when humanity works in harmony with it. It’s usually very still but walking in here doesn’t actually quiet my thoughts like other locations. It actually sends in more. More so than anything, I’m usually in awe and wonder, which only further propels my creativity. That’s it; It’s a place of divine inspiration.

Italians on Bute: The Bonaccorsi Family

Two brothers, aged 15 and 10, made their way from their Tuscan hometown of Barga to join their older brothers in Rothesay, Isle of Bute in 1901. Word had clearly gotten back to the Bonaccorsi family in Italy that the food industry in Scotland offered a goldmine for Italian migrants. Ice cream parlours, chip shops and confectioneries were sprouting up across Scottish towns, offering a much appreciated variation to Scottish society. It’s difficult to imagine why parents would be comfortable sending such young boys on a ship to a foreign country, but the wretched reality was that they were left with very little choice. At this time, Italy was facing an economic stagnancy and many parts of the country were experiencing famine. It was the duty of the Bonaccorsi brothers to become successful business owners on Bute and send the money back home to aid their parents and remaining family in Italy. For many Italians, the plan was to return to their home country as the economic hardships settled, or move on across the Atlantic to chase the ever-sought-after American Dream. However, the two young Bonaccorsi brothers went on to live the rest of their lives on the Isle of Bute and with an incredible legacy at that. The eldest of the two was Pietro Enrico Bonaccorsi; my Great Grandfather.

In an article by The National, the growing population of Italians in Scotland is shown by a compelling comparison. In the 1881 census, there were a mere 328 Italians residing in Scotland and by the start of the First World War, this had grown considerably to about 5500. These communities had been established in major cities such as Glasgow, Edinburgh and Aberdeen – but with Bute gaining the reputation as an idyllic holiday spot, there is little wonder as to why many Italians seized the economic opportunity on this small but thriving island. Some of these families include but are not limited to: Biagoni, Foschetti, Barbi and Zavaroni. The latter being another Italian family relation of mine. My Grandmother Bonaccorsi’s great niece was the famous Lena Zavaroni, making her my third cousin.

Notice how many of these families have surnames ending in ‘i’. This was a common characteristic of Northern Italian surnames, thus indicating that a majority of Italian immigrants were moving from the North (at least in the first wave of migration). For example, the family name ‘Bonaccorsi’ stems from the Southern alternative ‘Bonaccorso’. Not only this, but whole villages from Italy were essentially relocated to Scotland in a clan-like fashion and, of course, the most famous being the Northern province of Lucca in Tuscany. This is where my Great-Grandfather’s hometown of Barga is situated. In fact, according to the same article by The National, Lucca is known as the most Scottish town in Italy and it’s estimated that around half of its residents have Scottish relatives, some that they of course aren’t even aware of: “It was perhaps the best example of the phenomenon in which Italians did not so much mass migrate as come in bunches from particular towns and villages and then supported each other when they got here, remaining quite clannish.”

The Italians and Scots Relationship

The Scots coined a nickname for them, ‘Tallies’, which was often used in a warm, adorning way. However, Italians were known for mingling mostly amongst themselves, except for when it came to business. Intermarriage with other nationalities was practically unheard of, mostly due to their religion. Pietro Bonaccorsi was a slight exception. He married my Great-Grandmother Helen McStay, an Irish immigrant of Roman Catholic religion, which overcame the cultural barrier. The National states that: “Though almost all Italians were Roman Catholic, the Italo-Scots also did not suffer the level of discrimination and downright bigotry expressed towards the Irish Catholics, and as people who were usually involved in family businesses they could not be accused of taking Scottish jobs.”

As with most bigotry, if a migrant ‘doesn’t have anything to offer’ such as businesses, profitable skills and/or culture, then that’s when the natives often rear their ugly bigoted head. Italians brought a welcomed diversity to Scottish cuisine and thus remained, at least in the early years, free from such slurs and tension. In my opinion, in the eyes of the Scots, Irish culture was almost too similar to their own – offering nothing of value and only populating their country more with socio-economic competition such as jobs and housing.

However, the peaceful assimilation of Italians in Scotland did not last too long. Benito Mussolini encouraged global Italian communities to engage in Fascism by forming clubs across all of their countries of residence. Scotland was no exception. Italians within the country began joining Il Duce’s Fascist party but much worse was yet to come.

War broke out in 1939 and the Italian communities across Scotland were immediately under suspicion. Neighbours and other good friends began distancing themselves and keeping a wary and watchful eye on their former Italian friends. The tensions eventually came to an explosive head when Il Duce declared war on Britain in the Summer of 1940. No Italian was safe in Scotland. Shop windows were smashed, businesses were looted and Italians were physically attacked, cases nearing the 100s in Edinburgh alone. The attacks weren’t limited to just Italians, but their Scottish born children and relatives. It wasn’t until the RAF bombed regions of Italy that both countries knew that every remaining hope of peace had vanquished. This meant war.

Winston Churchill soon directed the Internment of every Italian man between the ages of 17 and 60 (though, varying sources say 18 and 70) and were deemed as “enemy aliens”. They were either forced to work on war defences or be transported over the Atlantic to countries such as Canada.

Pietro Bonaccorsi was no exception to this rule. After making a life for himself on Bute as a confectioner firstly at the Glenburn Hotel before becoming the owner of the Electric Bakery, he was interned at the age of 54 on the Isle of Man POW camp. The internment left many women to take over the business responsibility and face alienation by their Scottish co-inhabitants. My second cousin, Ray Kennedy, who is in the process of writing a book on our family writes that: “Outcries in Parliament lead to a change in policy and the first releases of internees in August 1940.  By February 1941 more than 10,000 had been freed, and by the following summer, only 5,000 were left in internment camps.  Many of those released from internment subsequently contributed to the war effort on the Home Front or served in the armed forces.

My Grandfather [Pietro Bonaccorsi] never forgave Churchill; his hatred was made worse by the fact that some of the Bonaccorsi family was at that time fighting in the British army including his nephew Raffaello and his sons Umberto and Aldo.”

Some of the Bonaccorsi family were forced to change their surnames to ‘Brown’ during the war in order to fight on the side of the British and escape suspicion, but my grandfather Aldo, his brother Umberto and cousin Raffaelo, refused. Unfortunately, Raffaelo, the son of Pietro’s brother Celestino, was eventually taken as a Prisoner of War to Stalag VIIIB Lamsdorf.

My Grandfather Aldo Bonaccorsi in the middle WW2, approximately 17 years old. Source: Avril Lax, Rothesay Remembered.

The Bonaccorsi Family Crimes on Bute

The Bonaccorsi family was no Italian mob and my Great Grandfather was no Al Capone, but both him and his family did have their fair share of run-ins with the law on Bute. According to the Buteman Newspaper and family recollections, Pietro Bonaccorsi found himself in court in 1926 facing charges of owning an illicit still. There was a lot of laughter in the court as Pietro insisted on calling the judge “Senor Presidente” and stating that a prosecution witness by the name of Antonio Barbi had “a big mouth”. Consequently, he was found guilty and fined £50, which back then was a large sum of money.

Pietro Bonaccorsi (right) with his brother (left) and their wives.

Pietro’s eldest son, Arturo, was the only one of the Bonaccorsi children that could speak Italian fluently. He was put in charge of one of his father’s businesses: The Electric Bakery on Watergate. One day, Arturo found some of his colleagues and friends gambling illegally at the back of the shop on a Sunday. My mother tells me at this time there was strictly no gambling on a Sunday. Arturo’s colleagues scoffed at his attempt to scold them. That was until he brought out a gun and again, insisted that they stopped. For some reason, the men listened this time. However, it was too little too late. After a tip-off, they were all arrested and court proceedings were carried out.

The Impact of Italians on Bute

The Italian culture has had a massive impact world wide, and a small piece of that can be seen in Bute. Zavaroni’s Cafe, even after all these years, is still a thriving business showcasing the Scottish love for a chippy and ice cream; a love that shows no sign of slowing down. Many of the people on Bute who were teenagers in the 70s reminisce about ‘Gaby’s’ or ‘Joe Foschetti’s XL cafe’.

One of my favourite parts of Italian culture that I got to experience throughout my childhood on Bute came from my Grandpa Aldo; Italian music. My niche party trick is knowing every lyric to Santa Lucia and Luna Mezzo Mare, and also being able to name each of the Three Tenors. My mother passed down a lot of small but heart-warming Italian customs, like saying Buonanotte and having to watch the Godfather Trilogy (which is unsurprisingly my favourite trilogy of all time). I hope one day, in the not-so-distant future, I eventually get to visit my Bonaccorsi family in Barga. It’s clear to see that Italy hasn’t just left a small part of itself on Bute, it’s also left a huge part in me.

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Above is a picture of my Grandpa Aldo performing like the fantastic tenor he was. The next picture is of me as a child with my Grandpa Aldo and my Nana Catherine Bonaccorsi nee Crawford.

Ferry Fiasco: Does Bute need a bridge now more than ever?

In the year where the Isle of Bute has been hailed as The Sunday Times best place to live in Scotland, its residents have never been more divided. Some think it’s merely a case of mainlander privilege to bare this perspective considering they have never experienced many days of ferry cancellations and missed mainland appointments. Others revelled in the pride of their community being placed on the map. Finally Bute was getting the credit its scenic coastal landscapes so deserved. In essence, while some welcomed this as a much-needed boost to the economy through publicity and tourism, others were fearful of what this meant for the 15×4 miles Firth of the Clyde island.

But let’s be clear — this isn’t like the Viking invasions of the 11th Century. Day-trippers aren’t packing bags for a day of plunder and pillage in Bute’s town of Rothesay. They’re here to share the fruits of what the islanders are able to feast on all year round — or at least some of it. This is where the Bute cynics may have a point:

The Sunday Times panelists alongside tourists likely have little understanding of what it’s like to be at the mercy of a lifeline service that is currently hitting headlines across the nation for unreliability. CalMac, the UK’s largest ferry operator (in terms of number of routes and vessels), has come under fire from both the press and its highly-dependent islander customers and commuters. Consequently more and more Bute residents are returning to an age old question: Does Bute need a bridge now more than ever?  

Ferry Fiasco

According to Google Trends, the search terms ‘CalMac’ and ‘island bridge’ peaked—perhaps not so coincidentally— at the exact same time in mid February 2022 when reports of delays to shipbuilding started to surge in Scottish media. Headlines included ‘ferry delays’ and ‘decimated ferry services’ in reference to CalMac. All of this came as rising tensions between Ferguson Marine Engineering Limited (FMEL) and Caledonian Maritime Assets Limited (CMAL) were being brought to light. John Sturrock QC describes the relationship between the two companies as ‘personal animosity’ which were contributing to delays and ‘costing the tax-payer a fortune’.

Not only this but recently there have been calls for resignations within Scottish parliament if the delays continue. Kate Forbes, the Cabinet Secretary for Finance, had projected that the overall cost of building new vessels had increased by over £8.5 million. According to The Scotsman, Ms Forbes said that she recognised how pertinent it is to complete these ferries for vulnerable islands and the reasoning was due to ‘outstanding legacy cabling issues’. It must be noted that these ferries were contracted by CMAL, which is government owned and government subsidised.

Due to these delays, older vessels are still in order which in turn impairs reliability due to technical issues and frequency of required servicing. For instance, one vessel that served the Isle of Arran had been out of operation until early May due to an engine failure and consequently, CalMac’s managing director, Robbie Drummond, has had to recognise that such an occurrence is detrimental to both island economy and to vital healthcare.

The Daily Record reports that pubs have been running out of alcohol, tourism has declined (which has been recognised as an island’s ‘lifeblood’) and has become unendurable for those who require the ferry services to attend hospital. Most importantly, Mr Drummond issued a statement on BBC Radio Scotland’s Good Morning Scotland that clarified money being spent on maintenance had increased by 70% in the last 5 years. CalMac is running purely on ‘ageing fleet’ and vessels that are well beyond their lifeline. This has real life implications for islanders.

The Scottish Ferry Review found in its consultation questionnaire in 2010 that the ageing of CalMac vessels are not singular to Arran, but have covered a far wider scope for many years. Within the review they stated that: “In tandem with the increasing fleet age, the rate of bringing new vessels into service has been reducing over time with a greater time period evident between commissions.” The review found that in 1974 the average age of vessels was 13 years old and by 2012 this average had shot up by 9 years to 22.

The reviews’ recommendation to reduce this trend was that vessels needed to be replaced ‘at a rate approaching one per year’ and that assuming these vessels have a lifespan of approximately 30 years, the predicted average age would need to be reduced from 22 to 19.5 years old. So, what does this mean for Bute?

Currently Bute operates with 2 main vessels from Wemyss Bay to Rothesay. These are the MV Argyle and MV Bute. Often times in Winter months the MV Coruisk is also put into service to tackle tempestuous weather in replacement of either one of the Rothesay ferries.  At the north end of the island the MV Loch Dunvegan operates alone from Colintraive to Rhubodach.

The youngest of the 4 vessels at 15 years old is the MV Argyle and the oldest is the 31 year old MV Loch Dunvegan. The average age of all 4 vessels combined is 20.5 years old, taking it over the recommended national average age of 19.5 years for CalMac vessels. For a company that displays one of its main qualities as ‘modernisation’ on their web page, having a vessel in service on Bute that has operated since 1991, does not seem to substantiate this claim of modernity. The review does not corroborate this either. This has been seen in practice and poses great difficulties for the Isle of Bute. More required servicing and technical issues have prevented more than just a ‘day-trip’ but vital services and resources.

According to a particular case on the 13th December 2021 posted to a community Facebook group, CalMac’s website showed that the MV Bute had been withdrawn from service due to a ‘technical fault’. Its replacement, the MV Coruisk, was delayed in the adjustment which seen the service for the latter half of that day and the remainder of the following day cancelled. Thereafter it remained on a single vessel timetable with the MV Argyle.

It’s important to highlight that there is also a significant issue with single vessel operations and in the same review, it was raised that: “We do not believe a single vessel operation constitutes provision of a lifeline ferry service” and this is exactly what CalMac brand themselves as on both the David MacBrayne website and the CalMac website: a lifeline service. It is not difficult to understand why many may feel that it’s unjust to constitute CalMac as this type of service when, often times, it does not live up to the provisions that it should.

How The Pandemic Ignited the ‘Bridge Debate’

The Isle of Bute community Facebook group has the second largest number of members (14,000) amongst the Scottish islands, second only to Skye (38,000). This community group was once a place that solely consisted of scenic pictures representing Bute’s wildlife before turning into a public discussion board to air concerns for other Brandanes (Bute residents) to respond to — which more often than not— has its habits of turning into heated debates.

On the 7th December 2021, a woman who runs a well-known hotel on Bute posted to the page in an obvious rage that was directed at CalMac and tagged councillors, urging them to get involved with her complaint. The woman had stated that she had arrived an hour and a half early at Wemyss Bay for the last sailing. She attempted to purchase a ticket but allegedly staff reported that the network was down and she’d have to pay by cash.

After explaining that she didn’t have cash as she was sure that CalMac had become a cashless company, she was told that she would not be able to travel unless she went to the nearest cash machine (which would require her to walk over a mile to the co-op in the rain, by a dark busy road) and acquire some: “The refusal to let a single passenger travel on the last sailing and to assume it is acceptable for anyone to be able to walk a mile and a half in the dark has left me flabbergasted.”

This was the only option provided. She stated in her post: “Yes I’d asked if someone could pop into Rothesay before the boat sailed and pay for me. Yes I’d asked if I could pay on board at the cafe and yes I’d asked if I could do a bank transfer. Everything I suggested was shot down in flames.”

She continued: “The only suggestion that was given to me was to sit in the car and wait to see if the network came back on — if it didn’t I’d not be allowed to travel.”

When the woman was finally able to get cash, she then had to walk down to the foot passenger ticket office — despite being a vehicle passenger— as the vehicle office claimed that they weren’t allowed to handle cash: “You couldn’t make it up. Not one apology was issued and the bad faith towards this company grows by the day.” 

This event occurred exactly 3 months after Bute Councillor Liz McCabe announced that there were issues with members of the community not being allowed to pay their ferry fare by cash: “For those who may not know, when travelling with CalMac you CAN pay by cash as a last resort. Seemingly we have been able to do for some time. However I have had some people telling me this was not the case for them.”

One responder to this statement said: “They wouldn’t let my husband when the rest and be thankful was closed! Point blank refused at Wemyss Bay.”

Issues with payments during the course of the pandemic sparked outrage in the community with some maintaining that CalMac were using their power to exploit islanders. One responder to the 7th December incident said: “Surely if the card payment network was down, then there should have been a contingency plan put in place?”

While others declared it was a ‘disgrace’ and ‘dreadful behaviour’ for a company. Another responder stated: “Absolute disgrace and if you complain it’s a waste of time. Build a bridge.”

As December went on, the Isle of Bute community page filled up with phone screenshots of ‘technical difficulty’ warnings from CalMac’s website, ferry cancellation complaints and soon, the idea of bridge building had resurfaced. It appeared that the community was truly beginning to lose faith and losing it very close to a time where sons, daughters and grandparents would be depending on these lifeline services to spend time with their families for Christmas — for some, the first time in many years due to the pandemic.

In an obtained FOI, over 2,201 scheduled sailings for the entirety of Bute in 2021 were cancelled compared to only 854 pre-pandemic. Granted, there are many external factors that simply cannot be managed by CalMac but it does leave wonder as to why there were also almost 1.5k less scheduled sailings than in 2019?

After contacting an individual who regularly and openly spoke quite positively about CalMac online, I asked for their opinion on a bridge as they are a regular commuter due to their job as a delivery driver. They were initially willing to co-operate but as the questions turned to issues around the use of ferry services, this person shut down all conversation by informing me that their boss is not happy with them talking to journalists and that if I wanted any more information, I was to contact their marketing team. The marketing team I later found out was the marketing of a distribution company who rely heavily on CalMac for business. Purely from speculation, I believe that this was an attempt to avoid decrying a company they so heavily depend on. Again, this is speculative.

The Debate

There is nothing that seems to ignite debate in an island community like presenting the group with a poll centred on a bridge. The poll that posed the question: ‘Does Bute need a bridge now more than ever?’ garnered a staggering 687 respondents, 387 of which (the majority), voted in favour of such endeavour and the remaining 300 voted against.

The main argument for those in favour of a bridge centred on the quality of ferry services to and from the island which has already been extensively touched upon in this investigation. However, some moved away from the notion of ‘the quality of service’ and more onto the idea that the external factors that impose a threat to ferry services are of equal issue i.e weather, COVID and technical issues. Although not the company’s fault, these are still valid reasons for desiring the freedom of what being connected to the mainland could bring. One respondent stated: “Living on the island has become more difficult during uncertainty of ferry especially during winter months, a bridge would solve that problem.”

While another stated: “I would just like the freedom it would give you should you be running late and the ferry is away at least there is an alternative way home instead of having to pay a hotel to stay over.”

A lot of ‘pro-bridgers’ acknowledged that they didn’t want rid of the ferry services on Bute altogether, they would just prefer to have an alternative option available in which they had access to mainland facilities and resources. 

As mentioned earlier, tourism is the main source of economic success for many Scottish islands and with islands like Skye, who in its first year of having a bridge, over 61200 vehicles crossed  which was more than the official numbers of the ferry according to the Evening Express, there is no wonder why this appeal exists on Bute.

Besides economy, the most gripping point came in the form of vital services such as healthcare. 

Highland Healthcare Branch Secretary Dawn MacDonald stated that a bridge could mean “the difference between life and death” as well as prevent missed appointments due to bad weather and ferry breakdowns. The most poignant of Mrs MacDonald’s statement came in the form of a life or death situation: “Years back, a GP’s daughter took an asthma attack and the delay in getting her to a hospital on the mainland almost cost her her life. It was too close to death for the GP’s liking and subsequently, he moved away.”

A spokesperson for Bute’s Kidney Patient Support also highlighted the issues of healthcare on the island: “Before the dialysis unit opened on Bute in November 2021 there was no treatment on the island. Patients had to go to Inverclyde 3 times per week. They went by ambulance transport each day, but you will understand if there was bad weather or breakdowns on the ferries then they couldn’t travel.”

Bute Kidney Patient Support was community and trust-funded. This is a resource that was created through the help of Dr Marshall Trust contribution as well as the campaigning and fundraising of Bute’s community and businesses. Without either — this resource may never have come to fruition.

The spokesperson also confirmed that: “… the mainland does have higher quality resources. The unit on Bute is classed as a satellite unit so if a patient has other health issues etc. then they may have to go back to receiving dialysis at Inverclyde.”

Finally, in regards to patient satisfaction it was believed that the island unit has been a “god send” to patients, however, “living on an island does have its limits” in regard to vital care services.

This leads to a very interesting point from the ‘anti-bridgers’ who believe that: “This is island life, if you don’t like it, move away. You chose to stay here. Move. Simple.” But is it really so simple?

Firstly, many islanders did not exactly choose to stay on the island. They were born here and as humans — they don’t get a say in that. Secondly, house prices are not as affordable on the mainland as they are on Bute— this is what constitutes part of the appeal for the ‘best place in Scotland’. As of November 2021 the postcode of PA20 (which covers the entirety of Bute) has an average house price of £109,906 compared to other areas merely across the water such as Wemyss Bay at £182,958 and Glasgow at over £200,000.

Another resident explained why it’s not as simple as just getting up and going: “Due to the boats being very unpredictable and my partner working on the mainland we are now looking to relocate, he lost thousands this winter due to ferries being cancelled. If there was a bridge I wouldn’t need to move away from the place I call home where all my family are.” 

Independence is another issue that was raised amongst those against a bridge. What would this mean for the independence of the island and would Bute still be able to hold onto its islander status? From the example of Skye, it would be safe to assume so, even if at very least by name. The logistics may be a little more complicated in terms of island benefits but it can be argued that island concessions would be far less needed with adequate accessibility to both essential and recreational facilities. Afterall, these island benefits are only in place for the sake of equity. It is accepted as a universal fact that rural communities are less advantaged than their mainland counterparts. However, politically, islands are synonymous with the character of ‘independence’ therefore a more compelling question posed to you reader is: Is the Isle of Bute ever truly independent if it is dependent on CalMac? Is it truly ever independent if its community is at the mercy of one company?

In media, we discuss the dangerous threat to democracy that media monopolies pose and that plurality and diversity are ways of maintaining democracy so best as we can as members of the Fourth Estate. Can this same principle be applied to rural communities where it is clear that business monopolies exist? These are certainly questions worth thinking about.

The vocal passion for the opposing side was so distinct in contrast to the ‘pro-bridgers’. In fact, so passionate that I had received a peculiar email in response to my proposition on the community Facebook group. The email address was generated from an encryption mail website named ‘Proton Mail’ and the sender was disguised with an alias. They had urged me not to take this investigation any further and linked me to a blog post that they seemed to create in direct response to my poll. It highlighted that any investigation for the sake of “journalism” would instead be “insincere” and “malicious”.

Though clearly not open for discussion, the sender made some fascinating and well-researched points that laid down the foundation of the anti-bridge argument. Some of which included the extortionate cost of such a project. If we disregard hypotheticals if only for a moment and move more to practicality, we can look at the case study of Skye.

The bridge cost £39 million to construct and not without great controversy initially. After a toll was applied to the bridge by the US company that owned it, protests arose and soon, the Scottish Government bought the Skye bridge, eradicating the toll which had generated criminal charges and public unrest. If the Scottish Government are struggling to finance and deliver new vessels on time, this certainly leaves room for skepticism when it comes to financing and delivering a bridge. 

Visual aesthetics, uniqueness of character and the enjoyment of remoteness were all other incredibly valid points brought up amongst the Facebook comments. Many were also concerned about the environmental impact and rightly so. The anonymous author of the blog who stated that if the bridge were to be built at Colintraive and Rhubodach: “[they] are within a National Scenic Area (and one of only seven in the Argyll and Bute region) so development of any kind would face tremendous roadblocks from communities, authorities and environmentalists.” 

You can view their extensive points against the idea of a bridge on Bute here.

Findings

This investigation concludes that it isn’t so much ‘pro’ or ‘anti-bridge’ so much as it is ‘pro better services for islands’. Though the debate is shrouded in hypotheticals, there is value in looking at its practicality which case studies such as Skye can provide, albeit with its differences. There is no doubt that those in favour of a bridge are not necessarily calling for a bridge as much as they are calling for better, more modern and reliable services, better governance and more freedom of choice for their island. There was a real impression that this is a community that has exhausted all other options when it comes to pleading for better. The practicality of such a huge endeavour will forever remain debatable.

Finally, though much of the community did not feel compelled to speak out on this topic when approached, it is clear that it’s a touchy subject for some islanders. And often the things that aren’t talked about are certainly the things that need to be talked about. Divorce, death, illness and sex. They’re all difficult topics. And for islanders — bridge building seems to be one of them. 

Author’s Note:

The voices of Bute’s community matters – after all, it is the people of Bute who these council-centred issues affect. If nothing is said, nothing can be done. Some islanders were agitated or fed up by the proposal of such a question regarding the bridge with remarks such as “not this again”. But actually — yes, this again. Yes, ‘this again’ because it is a question that has been left unanswered. If it was a problem that possessed a solution, it wouldn’t have to be solved. And until there is an answer or solution, you can expect to see the ‘bridge debate’ continue to arise in conversation. Whether you choose to partake in it or not is purely personal choice, but those who want to be heard should be heard.

My aim was to move this debate along and to provide at least *some* answers to its surrounding questions. And sometimes investigations can pose more questions than it does answers. That rings true for this. I went into this investigation with a curious mind and a genuine desire to find an answer to this age long debate. However, being raised on Bute, I also wanted islanders to think about the institutions that they are governed by and the way their community is run. Knowledge can only be gained through the provision of information and only then can productive action be taken with that knowledge.

Thank you to all who have collaborated with me on this piece and to the community for providing me with insightful data. Your voices and opinions are incredibly important to the progression of rural communities.

Feature Photo Credit: Isle of Bute by John Williams, 2016.

Top 5 Famous Brandanes You’ve Never Heard About

If you’re a Brandane (a native or inhabitant of Bute as defined by Wiktionary), you might be wondering if such a thing exists: another Brandane you’ve never heard about. It is Bute after all and everyone knows everyone — or at least likes to think so. There’s only 122km² and a population of approximately 7,000, amongst which someone of great notoriety could dwell unnoticed. In fact, it hardly seems likely. That’s because the people on our list today were not famous for singing ‘Sweet Caroline’ in the Palace Bar on a Friday night or a viral video on TikTok. In fact, they’d probably be perplexed that either exist. The Brandanes on this list are known mainly to scholars and historians for their innovation, intelligence and contribution to the arts and sciences throughout the 19th and 20th century. For this reason, I want to bring that notoriety and knowledge forth into 2022 so that these great Brandanes become part of, not only scholarly, but local knowledge. Today I bring you the Top 5 famous Brandanes You’ve Never Heard About:

1. Montague Stanley (Actor and Artist) 1809-1844

Source: National Galleries Scotland

Though born in Dundee in 1809, Montague Stanley would later take residence in Bute at a quaint house in Ascog which was known as Ascog Towers (no longer there) with his family. This was under the recommendation of his doctor who suggested Stanley resided in milder and healthier conditions after coming down with a serious condition in his lungs. This was speculated to be tuberculosis. Stanley was an avid traveller and worked as both an actor and artist throughout his life in various places, though mainly in Edinburgh where he met his wife Mary Susan Eyre. It was here that he became a well known landscape artist and by 1838, he decided to leave the stage as an actor for good to focus on his paintings.

Bute appealed to Stanley’s artistry and the move appeared to be incredibly beneficial to his creativity. He was remote enough to care for his sick lungs but close enough that he could visit Edinburgh on occasion, continuing to teach and sell his art work. This positive change did not last for long as his health rapidly deteriorated and Stanley was restricted to Bute and Bute only.

Stanley was also a Sunday school teacher and regular attendee of a new church that had been erected at Ascog in 1843, however, in the next year his condition worsened and he no longer could attend church. Death became almost inevitable to Stanley at this point. Shortly before his passing, he told Rev. James Monteith that his desire was to be buried within the grounds of Ascog Church. This wish was followed through after his passing on May 4th 1844.

The grave took a week to excavate, with ‘cartloads’ of soil being brought to fill it in according to Bute Connections. It’s also interesting to note that just 10 years later, there was a prohibition of burials drawn up within the grounds of Ascog Church, so as it stands, Montague Stanley’s grave is the only one there.

Tragically, Stanley’s remaining unsold artwork was destroyed in a fire enroute to auction.

2. William Low (Civil Engineer) 1814 – 1886

Source: Wrexham History (www.wrexham-history.com)

Born in Rothesay in 1814 to a seaman and a tanner’s daughter, William Low’s family soon made their move to Glasgow a year after his birth. This is where he began his career as a civil engineer in 1830. Low worked as an apprentice to Peter MacQuisten in Glasgow before securing his first job as a surveyor for the Duke of Argyll. He then moved to Bristol in the 1830s to work on a rail route between London and Bristol and was also working for Isambard Kingdom Brunel (who was considered one of the most ‘ingenious’ and ‘prolific’ figures in engineering history) on the Great Western Railway.

Low made a return to Glasgow in 1836 and for 3 years worked in various different partnerships. By now, he was a well experienced engineer and in 1843, he had published proposals for advancements to the Caledonia Railway line situated between Glasgow and Carlisle. It was then that he had really established the accolade as a tunnel and bridge specialist, working on huge projects all over the United Kingdom.

In 1846, Low moved to Wrexham and decided to build a home here. It was in this home that he drew up the ideas for a tunnel under the English Channel. It is important to note that the idea for a Channel Tunnel was not original or unordinary at this time, however, Low was the first to propose a double tunnel with cross ventilation branches. In April 1867, his plans were published and presented to Napoleon III and Queen Victoria’s Government. They were approved.

As companies were formed in 1868, Low apparently spent £5,000 of his own money buying land at Dover and near Calais. The channelling had begun. However, it wasn’t before long that the plans were halted due to the effects of the Franco-Prussian War, where the British Government withdrew support. Work was eventually restarted but arguments ensued between Low and another engineer which forced him to abandon his plans.

Low’s plans were revived once again in 1881 continuing through to 1884, but confidences were lost along the way and the plan, finally, was altogether abandoned after a turbulent history. At this point, Low was 70 years old and had lost a huge amount of money on the project but reports claim that this did not prevent him from being a very charitable man and great contributor to many charitable causes.

Low died in London in 1886 having never seen his plans come to fruition. In 1961 discussions surrounding bridges, immersed tubes and tunnels were revived and by the 80s, it was decided that a triple tunnel would be built and was achieved in 1991. The Channel Tunnel as we know it today was opened in 1994 by Queen Elizabeth II.

3. The Marshall Family (Physician, Nurse, Biologist & Archaeologist) 1860 – 1992

Sheina McAlister Marshall (1896 – 1977) Source: National Portrait Gallery London

The Marshall’s are one of the most historically remarkable families associated with Bute and for this reason, there’s a real injustice of placing each of their stories under just one heading. They really are a family of many talents and each deserves, at very least, their very own subsection within number 3.

Let’s begin with John Nairn Marshall (Physician) 1860 – 1945.

Born in Pollokshields in 1860, John was said to have had a great fascination with natural history from a very early age. It was this interest that remained as the catalyst for his future career in medicine. After graduating from the University of Glasgow in 1885, John took his practice to Galston, Ayrshire and thereafter, moved to Rothesay in 1892. He resided first in Battery Place before moving to ‘Stewarthall’.

He was an immensely well-known and respected G.P and surgeon on Bute who was described as a ‘striking figure, tall, placid, well-read and much travelled, who inspired complete confidence when treating his patients’.

John’s skills were not just limited to medicine either as he had profound knowledge of Bute’s flora and geology, as well as adding archaeology to the list after publishing a paper in 1914 on the excavations at Dunagoil. It was hugely through these efforts and passions that the present Buteshire Natural History Society was created in 1905 and John continued to be a huge supporter of the society throughout his life, even serving as its President from 1905 to 1920.

In 1934, John retired from medicine though kept his keen interest in Bute’s natural history flourishing. After a long and successful career, he passed away on the 15th March 1945 in ‘Stewarthall’.

Dr. Marshall and his wife Jean Colville Binnie had four daughters which, unfortunately, only three survived into adulthood after the tragic loss of their youngest — Alison Binnie Marshall. Margaret, Sheina and Dorothy were all encouraged from young ages to pursue an interest in natural history and science. All three daughters went on to become successful in their chosen fields.

Margaret Marshall (Nurse) 1895 – 1995

The eldest of the Marshall daughters, Margaret, was born at 5 Battery Place. Her nursing career was kickstarted when she served as a Voluntary Aid Detachment or VAD at Mount Stuart Naval Hospital during World War I. She was then accepted as a staff nurse in 1917 at the Royal Naval Hospital at Grantown and when World War I came to an end, she returned to Bute as a relief nurse based at the local hospital.

Margaret left Bute for Edinburgh’s Royal Infirmary and trained as a qualified nurse under the Lady Superintendent Miss Gill whom was a pupil of Florence Nightingale. She then progressed onto her midwifery training in Dundee, returning to Edinburgh’s Royal Infirmary as a ward sister and then later becoming Night Superintendent. She was then appointed as Matron at Beechwood Hospital, Edinburgh and became involved with the early work of treating cancer with radium therapy.

As World War II escalated, Margaret became acting Principal Matron of the Emergency Hospital Service and later as Chief Nursing Officer superintending the conversion of buildings into hospitals. Some of these included Gleneagles, Turnberry and between 80 and 90 private homes. In November 1944, Margaret was then appointed as Lady Superintendent of the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary which seen her with 700 nurses under her supervision and control. These consisted of staff that were both undergoing training and fully qualified.

Margaret eventually retired in 1955, continuing to live in Edinburgh for a while before resettling in Bearsden. Some of Margaret’s great achievements included an OBE in 1947 and a Doctor of Laws from St Andrews University in 1975. She was just short of her 100th birthday on the 25th January 1995 when she passed away at Mount Carmel retirement home in Rothesay.

Sheina McAlister Marshall (Biologist) 1896 – 1977

Born in 1896, Sheina began her early education at home, then at Rothesay Academy before finally finishing at St Margaret’s School, Polmont. Sheina had said that her interest in biology had began when she was reading through many of Charles Darwin’s books when she was ill with rheumatic fever.

In 1914, she attended Glasgow University but took a year out to work with an uncle in a factory in Balloch which extracted radium that was used in clock faces and instrument dials. In 1916, Sheina returned to university to study Zoology, Botany and Physiology, graduating with a BSc with Distinction in November 1919.

In 1922, Sheina began investigating micro-plankton under the job title of Naturalist at the Marine Laboratory in Millport. From here, she pursued an interest in ecological biology, studying the food chains of marine species. Sheina took part on several significant scientific expeditions, including one to the Australian Great Barrier Reef in 1928. In 1934, she was awarded a DSc and in 1949, Sheina Marshall became one of the first women elected as Fellows of the Royal Society of Edinburgh having been awarded the Society’s Neill Prize for the period 1969 – 1971. This was because of her publications and contributions to natural history.

After being appointed deputy director of the Millport Marine Station in 1964, Sheina was also awarded an OBE and just before her passing, she learned that she had been given an Honorary Degree from the University of Uppsala.

Sheina lived out the rest of her life on Millport, working and writing scientific papers until her death in 1977.

Dorothy Nairn Marshall (Archaeologist) 1900 – 1992

Similar to her sister Sheina, Dorothy was educated firstly by a governess at home before attending Rothesay Academy and then finishing her Scottish education at a boarding school in Edinburgh. In her early 20s, Dorothy left for Paris to study art.

During the First World War, Dorothy served as what is known as a ‘lumberjill’, cutting timber at Colintraive and was involved in many voluntary activities such as Guiding and the Red Cross. It was after her father’s death that Dorothy pursued her passion for archaeology by leaving for London to study with Sir Mortimer Wheeler, a profound and famous archaeologist. She took part in a large amount of excavations both nationally and abroad. This included excavations in Cyprus, Mersini, Jericho, Petra and Jerusalem. Dorothy was deeply involved in the Buteshire Natural History Society, acting as organising secretary and as President as well as running a Junior Naturalist section.

Dorothy Marshall was awarded an MBE in 1981 and elected an Honorary Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London — an incredibly rare honour. She even continued to take part in archaeological digs right up until her 90s, before passing away on the 3rd of September 1992.

Today, you can visit the commemorative bench at what is considered one of Dorothy Marshall’s favourite view points near Brigidale, facing South-West.

The Marshall family’s graves are also in Rothesay’s High Kirkyard.

4. Allan Wilkie (Actor) 1878 – 1970

Allan Wilkie. Source: Shakespeare and the Players. https://shakespeare.emory.edu/allan-wilkie/

Allan Wilkie’s father James was an engineer that lived in Victoria Street, Rothesay until he moved to Liverpool. He became a Marine Superintendent with the Elder Dempster Line and established a trust fund of £20,000 to build the group of Wilkie Houses at Townhead in 1929, for widows and spinsters of Rothesay to live rent-free.

James Wilkie’s son Allan was born at Toxteth Park, Lancashire in 1878 and was educated at Liverpool High School. He saw his first play at the age of 16 which was called A Bunch of Violets and seized every opportunity to visit theatres thereafter. According to records, Allan used the excuse of going to a chess club so that he could go see various plays without the watchful eye of his strict father, who restricted Allan’s play viewings to once a month.

Allan Wilkie moved to London and secured the part of a ‘walking gentleman’ and understudy in A Lady of Quality at the Comedy Theatre in Cambridge in 1899. Over the next few years, he played Shakespeare, melodrama and farce around Britain with different touring companies. It wasn’t until 1905 that Wilkie became head of his own touring company and acquired the title of ‘actor-manager’. In 1909, he married one of the stunning leading ladies in his touring company Frediswyde Hunter-Watts and over the next 6 years, they successfully performed in London Theatres.

It was in 1911 when Wilkie took the first Shakespearian repertory company abroad to India and over the next few years, they also performed in Ceylon, China, Japan, Philippines, Singapore, Malaya. Wilkie was in South Africa when the First World War began so decided to move to Australia with his wife in 1915, as she had family connections there. It was here that they started their own Shakespearean Company there which was rumoured to have huge success.

Wilkie was then awarded a CBE for services to the theatre in 1925 before returning to London, where he would retire. After his retirement, he spent several years in the USA and Canada, though in his last few years resided at Montford House in Rothesay. He began to take a great deal of interest in the Wilkie Houses that his father had invested in. He died on Bute on the 6th of January 1970.

5. William Macewen (Surgeon) 1848 – 1924

Sir William Macewen Source: University of Glasgow Library Blog. https://universityofglasgowlibrary.wordpress.com/2016/06/22/sir-william-macewen-founder-of-erskine/

At ‘Woodend’, Rothesay, on the 22nd June 1848, William Macewen was born. This was at the first house past Skeoch Wood toward Ardbeg. It’s important to note that the house now on that site replaced the Macewen home in the 1860s. William was the youngest of 12 children and moved to Glasgow with his family when his father retired in 1860.

William Macewen is another on this list who attended Glasgow University. He studied medicine there from 1865, graduating in 1869 before completing his surgical training in 1872. After this, he became a surgeon at the Western Infirmary in Glasgow and then eventually moved to the Royal Infirmary where he stayed until 1892. Macewen became Regius Professor of Surgery at Glasgow University, while also operating at the Western Infirmary and at the Royal Hospital for Sick Children.

Macewen is a personal favourite on this list as I’ve mentioned him in my previous article ‘5 Things You Didn’t Know About Mount Stuart’. It was here at Mount Stuart that he was a sure aid for servicemen in the First World War. Macewen had an outstanding career, making major advances in the field of surgery and being widely regarded as the ‘father of neurosurgery’. He was the pioneer of brain surgery, being able to successfully locate tumours through the analysis of symptoms and subsequently removing them by surgery. Something that was rare in his time.

Macewen was also fascinated by joint and bone surgery, going on to invent a technique for straightening the bones of rickets sufferers. This was a condition caused by poor nutrition and was hugely common amongst children of the poor at this time, so this advancement was a significant one.

Though the use of antiseptic was pioneered by Joseph Lister, Macewen took this a step further. He insisted on the complete avoidance of infection by the washing and wearing of clean gowns by surgeons, thorough cleaning of theatres and the sterilisation of equipment. He also advocated for the use of anaesthetics which, at this time, was still considered a novelty. Macewen’s reputation was international and in 1902, he was knighted.

Macewen passed at his house ‘Garrochty’ on the western side of Bute in 1924.


A huge and special thank you to the Bute Natural History Society and the authors of ‘Bute Connections’ which include Jean McMillan, Margaret Lamb and Allan Martin. This is where I gathered most of my sources and my research and without it, this article would not have been possible. These are just a select few of the wonderful significant connections that Bute has and I would highly recommend discovering more.

Recommended Further Readings:

‘Bute Connections’ by Jean McMillan, Margaret Lamb and Allan Martin is available on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bute-Connections-Jean-McMillan/dp/0905812220

The Rothesay Academy Fire of 1954

There upon a spectacular view sat a pitiable structure whose shell stood open to the sky that loomed above a very quaking Isle of Bute. The 100ft clock tower that spent over 86 years proudly unmoved on the hill side, collapsed in heaps of rubble; ringing out its bell one final time before bowing to the same fate as its neighbouring walls.

Just like the building’s construction lived in the fantasy of its architect before becoming a tangible force of reality, in someone else’s — so too did its destruction. Seeing the burnt remains of a most dreaded institution would live vicariously in only some school childrens’ fantasies. But ‘fantasy’ is just ‘fantasy’ until it becomes a reality and a building is just a building until it becomes 500 people’s future, the craftsmanship of low paid labourers, the work of art from an architect, the livelihood of its staff and peace & quiet for hundreds of parents.

Elsewhere on the island, three 14-year-old boys, in long trousers, appeared before Sheriff Donald on a charge alleging responsibility for the devastating fire of their school. With their parents and a solicitor present, the Sheriff committed them to Rothesay Remand Home in Bishop Street for further examination. For those boys, this did indeed, become very real.


Friday, March 5th 1954

The blaze was first spotted by a Mrs D. Watson at 10.20 pm as she made her way home, observing a cloud of smoke emerging from the back of the school. She later told a reporter, “I thought at first that it was a dirty chimney.” But Mrs Watson had no idea of the catastrophe that lay ahead for that Friday night, nor did the pupils and staff that left the school 7 hours before in preparation for a seemingly normal weekend.

It wasn’t before long that Mr. John Allan, the Academy janitor, was informed by the witness at his house, that was only situated some yards from the school. Surprisingly, the janitor claimed that at 10.10 pm, only 10 minutes before Mrs Watson seen smoke, that there was nothing to be seen and “not a whiff of smoke.” This meant that whatever instigated the fire had to have happened between 10.10 and 10.20, if their accounts are accurate.

Mr Allan was finishing a cup of tea when Mrs Watson came chapping at his door. She then shouted: “Mr Allan I think there’s a fire in the school.” Immediately, he claims, he slipped on his boots and raced across to the Academy, which they both entered through a side door.

“Dense smoke filled the main hall. I rushed Mrs Watson across the vestibule, told her to stay put there, and grabbed a fire extinguisher from the janitor’s room.” From there, Mr Allan emptied the fire extinguisher into the No.5 laboratory where flames were materializing. However; in subsequent evaluation, the fire had originated in No.6 laboratory and Mr Allan confirms this by saying, “the volume of smoke told me that it wasn’t entirely the little bit I saw.”

Realising that this was a battle way out of his hands, the janitor could stand to fight no longer, launching the extinguisher into the fire before telephoning the police. He told them to get the fire brigade immediately. He told a reporter “…the smoke was too much for me.” Meanwhile, Mrs Watson searched the phonebook for the number of Mr James D. Mackenzie, the rector.

Mr Mackenzie received the call shortly after 10.30pm and arrived at the scene almost immediately. He said, “I had parked my car across the road and I went up straight away.” He said initially driving up Chapelhill, he never seen much smoke, but as he arrived at the front door, the hall was pitch black as it had filled the room.

“Mr Allan was coming out with a cloth over his face. The fingers of his right hand had been slightly burned when he picked up an extinguisher. He was rather groggy and Mrs Watson was helping him,” Mackenzie told. He then went onto describe the helplessness he felt in the way of firefighting but was eager to rescue what he could.

“…although there was no imminent danger and I did not anticipate that the whole school would go up, I thought I had better rescue something. So I brought out the school log and the register and a few odds and ends, which included record cards for individual pupils and the Academy Book of Remembrance.”

The rector then took these rescued items down to his car but on return to the school was told by police that he was to remain outside as the danger had quickly escalated.

The flames from the No.6 laboratory had burned through the roof by the time Rothesay fire brigade left their High Street station at 10.58pm, had reached the building and run hoses through the main entrance. According to a Buteman article published just over a week later, 17 firemen had manned the brigade’s two engines and as the fire spread from one end of the building to the other, the roof went up in flames. Sparks showered neighbouring houses in Academy Terrace and their occupants were warned to prepare for an evacuation of their homes at a moment’s notice.

However according to an article from an Express Reporter, a Mr Charles McNab watched the fire from his home in Battery Place stating that, “The flames shot 50ft into the sky. They stretched from one end to another.” Reportedly hundreds of people from all over the town rushed to the fire, watching the town’s volunteer firemen “with only one engine” (which would be a contradiction to the Buteman’s report of 2) try to control the flames. Toward lighthouse keeper Malcolm McNeill (35) at 12:30am said: “I can see a glow in the sky over the town and I am five miles away.”

Firemen attending a dance in Dunoon were called out as well as 150 sailors from H.M.S Montclare and H.M.S Termagant. They docked at Rothesay Bay and were sent ashore with two fire pumps. From Greenock fire service came another 5 men after a 90 minute crossing via motor launch from Gourock.

Just before 1 am, as the entire building burned ferociously, parts of the outer wall began to give-way and the roof of the clock tower fell in. Its remaining walls stood like a chimney, throwing sparks high into the air. Almost everything was destroyed.

Saturday, March 6th 1954

For 19 hours, until 6pm on Saturday, members of Rothesay fire brigade were on continuous duty and for three hours on Sunday, they were straight back at it again, making sure embers were dampened down.

As Saturday morning approached, police examined the ‘smouldering ruins’ and were desperately seeking an explanation for the blaze. Meanwhile, four hoses were left on to dampen the charred remains of the building. At this point, news articles and locals deemed the fire a complete ‘mystery’. Mr James Carruthers who lived near the Academy on Argyle Terrace had claimed that “No one knows how the fire started — it’s a mystery.”

It was discovered that the collapsing of the clock tower caused a fracture in the gas main in the flooded boiler house below. Water then flowed into the pipe through the break and gas was seized from most of its consumers in Ardbeg, Montague Street and Victoria Street. A loudspeaker van toured Rothesay warning consumers to make sure their gas was turned off. The full supply was not restored until 6pm that day.


Sunday, March 7th 1954

Finally, at 9pm after a weekend of intense investigation by Rothesay Police, an arrest of 3 boys were made. A woman had reported to the police that she had seen 3 boys in their teens, wearing long trousers, leaving the Academy grounds at around 10pm on Friday, at which time the fire is believed to have began.

Police began questioning Academy teachers before starting out on a quest to interview every single youngster of appropriate description on the island, if need be. They visited about 60 homes on the island before their enquiries ripened and eventually, an arrest was made.


The Aftermath

In a letter to the paper, rector J. D Mackenzie states: “…to the churches who gave their halls, and to the headmaster of the Public School who immediately and generously placed classrooms at our disposal. Never could I have imagined the wave of sympathy which has engulfed us. Offers of help have poured in from all sides, and the staff, pupils and parents have been truly wonderful.”

“To all I have mentioned, and to many others, I am more grateful than I can possibly say, and on behalf of the school I would like to thank them publicly and most sincerely.”

An assembly was held in the playground on the Monday morning before the classes were dispersed to temporary accommodation to continue with their schooling. Many of the senior classes were relocated to the primary building up the hill. 500 pupils left that Friday having no idea what was about to await them Monday morning.

I’d also like to include a quote from one of my Facebook posts earlier this year from Mike Blair that spoke of his dad, who was a teacher during this: “I was in the Primary at the time and we were all decanted to various halls and our class went to the public school.”

“My dad (Mr Nelson Blair) spent the entire weekend organising the logistics of where we were to go in order to let the Secondary pupils occupy our building. It was just before the Highers (exams) which were in March back then.”

“The Scottish Office said they would make special dispensation in marking Rothesay papers and Rector Mackenzie agreed. However, dad fought this as he did not want the pupils to always carry that stigma. He was right as the marks in 53, 54 and 55 were almost exactly the same. Dad never got credit for that.”

Certainly Mike, I hope that by including your quote in this article gives even a little credit to your father for his determination.


The Lesson from the Fire

I am aware that including the above heading in a crime-laden fire is possibly controversial but it was absolutely necessary after my research. Coming across a statement from the Provost John H. Shaw on the Monday after, I was initially shocked.

“If there is one bright spot in this terrible business, it is that the Academy is in an isolated position. Such a blaze starting in a building in the centre of town would have developed into a major disaster.” He then began calling helper’s efforts pitiless and hopeless, discussing the real saving grace as being the building’s isolative position.

My initial reaction to the first line of this statement was confusion. This fire was not like the other Bute fires that I had written about. Hence why when people called me out for omitting this fire from my last article ‘Bute blazes that have been lost in history’, I don’t think many realised there was method in my madness. Rothesay Academy’s fire has not been ‘lost in history’. Its history survived on through its predecessor and now through the Joint Campus. Its history has surfed the mouths of our townspeople for decades, through story-telling, memories and pictures.

It was also a fire so profound, so different from the rest that it deserved its very own piece. I felt somewhat emotionally compelled by my research into this fire and could hardly believe when the Provost articulated in such an emotionally-detached and impersonal way. How could he call the strained efforts of volunteers and helpers from the mainland hopeless? I felt a fronted for these people that I didn’t even know. How could he talk about this place like just a building? Like I said, a building is just a building until its 500 people’s future, people’s craftsmanship, art and livelihood. But as I read on, my mind completely changed. My emotional side was immediately swapped out for my rational, strategic side and John H. Shaw shifted my perception.

“This fire can be taken as a warning that our fire services in Rothesay should be on a bigger scale than at present — even if only in the matter of equipment,” he began, “Before the fire service became nationalised we in Rothesay paid £200 for its upkeep. Now our grant to the South West Area fire service is £2,036 — and we are substantially no better off than before. Surely we should expect a great deal better service for such an amount of money?”

I guess there was a valuable, tangible and most importantly, sensible, lesson to be learned from such a catastrophe and the Provost was certainly onto something. Sometimes it does take tragedies to highlight the cracks in communities. After the smoke has cleared and temperaments have cooled, we can see the issues with clarity and distinction. We have, since then, made a lot of progress in the community and with our public sector services. One can only hope that such a tragedy, such a big lesson, does not crop up uninvited in the town again and if it does, for some things are inevitable, we are manned, equipped and ready.

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• All reports, pictures and articles are courtesy of Bute Photo Archive and Bute Museum. I’d like to kindly and personally thank archivist Jean McMillan for providing me with assistance and content for this article.

Bute blazes that have been lost in history

Flicking through old Buteman and Rothesay Express articles of the 1900s evoked a whimsical nostalgia that, being born at the end of the century, I probably had no right to feel but…I did. The yellowed articles, musk-scented and dust-covered, took me on a journey of Bute’s ‘Glory Days’ and what a core of warm memories the place really serves to be. For many Brandanes like myself (and those that are adopted ones), Bute is the fond and familiar hug of home, the historical and regal sense of pride and sometimes – the sudden and the dangerous reminder of reality.

On my quest to unearth the untold stories that lay beneath the cobblestones of Montague Street in the town centre to the mossy hill tops at Bute’s North end, I realised that tragedy is not only a part of Bute’s history, but its reality, and fires were unfortunately the most common events of destruction to plague 20th Century Bute.

These were documented in different local newspapers over the years and as part of my journalistic integrity, I’d like to merely relay the facts of these forgotten fires using the quotes and stories from newspapers, allowing you, my readers, to expand and discuss your experiences and memories where you see fit. For those that do not have any, allow this article to provide you with knowledge on the events that have shaped this island, its people and its architecture. Love Bute for all that it is- the good, the bad and even the tragically forgotten.


1. 1913 ‘Great Fire at Rothesay Saw Mills’

Described in a Buteman article from June 6th, 1913 (over 108 years ago), as one of “the most destructive” fires of its then recent years, Rothesay Saw Mills which belonged to Messrs George Halliday, Ltd and the McKirdy and McMillan, Ltd garage adjacent to it, were both victims of the mill fire’s ferocious devastation.

The fire took place on May 30th 1913, exactly a week before the article’s publication.

It was said to have began around 8.10pm when one of the firm’s partners, Mr John Halliday, noticed smoke whirling and rising up from the centre of the mill.

From later examination, it was thought that the fire began underneath the saw-bench and fed off of the flammable material in its “immediate vicinity” which caused its rapid and vicious spread, propelled further by the timber around it.

In fact, the spread was reportedly so vicious that after Mr Halliday’s phone call to the police office, fire brigade members AND the local Boy Scouts appeared to tackle the engulfing flames.

In front of a large, gathering crowd, the brigade and scouts lined Union Street in attempts to provide safety and protection to the community – the former battling flames, the latter aiding while also keeping crowds at a distance.

It just so happened that the very same night as the fire, the Boy Scouts, who were under Scoutmaster Jarvie’s service, were carrying out training for fire-drills before quickly being summoned to the location.

The combined efforts of all of Rothesay’s services, including the police, meant that the flames were soon eradicated but not without a considerable amount of physical devastation.



2. 1956 ‘Flames destroy a page of history’

Photo source: Rothesay Express, D. Muir

“HUNGRY FLAMES last week destroyed an old, almost derelict building in Ladeside Street, Rothesay”, this Rothesay Express article begins, written on the 23rd of March, 1956.

The article then goes onto describe the lack of significance the building had to Rothesay locals and how to them, it was just an ancient relic of “Old Rothesay being used as a store and stable.”

Yet this was so far from the truth. The flames within this building destroyed more than just its beams but a memory of Rothesay’s industrial past. This regular old building once housed the first ever cotton mill to be established in Scotland.

The cotton mill industry flourished in Rothesay. It was from this initial building here that sprang several larger mills and over 1,000 workers were employed.

“Loch Fad was damned and the machinery in the mills was driven by water power from the Lade”, the article begins before telling us that later, a steam engine was erected in the year 1800 to “furnish power” in the emergency of summer droughts.

As the cotton trade declined, the last mill shut before the end of the 19th century and from then, all that remained was its history which unfortunately was lost to the flames.

“The only mill building now remaining on the island is that in Barone Road which houses Isle of Bute industries, founded by the present Marquess and enjoying a large home and export of trade.”

Through the journalist’s tone for this article (and even its heading), it’s easy to obtain how tragic and saddening this loss was for the town of Rothesay at this time and even more comprehensible why this is an event that is rarely spoken of around the community, even to this day.



3. 1962 ‘Blaze destroys clock tower’

Photo Source: Pinterest, Bob Smith

I’m expecting this event to be a little more well known within the community but still one that was hardly talked about until brought up in conversation. My grandmother, Catherine Gillies, on my father’s side, worked as a cook in the pier tearoom and it was through the conversation with my father surrounding her that I decided to do some digging on this story. 

On Saturday 19th May 1962, the 50ft Rothesay Pier clock tower was destroyed in a monumental blaze that could be seen on the mainland, with heat that could be felt as far as Watergate 100 yards away. 

“Holidaymakers arriving by steamer had a grandstand view of the town’s part-time firemen, helped by volunteers, fighting the flames. They could do nothing to save the tower and concentrated on keeping the fire from spreading to other parts of the main building”, a quote from the Buteman‘s 1962 article reads. 

The alarm was raised just after 3pm when the harbourmaster, Captain William N. Tudman noticed the scent of burning in his office which was situated directly under the clock tower. He struggled to detect the cause until he noticed flames “curling up” from the eaves outside. 

Ordering steamer times announcer, Miss Jean McArthur, out from the building, Tudman then telephoned the police and fire brigade. He was also able to salvage a number of books and the contents from the safe before escaping. 

Offices and the tearoom occupying the pier building were evacuated as clerks carried out records and cash. 

Pier tearoom owner Mrs Bob Taylor said: “We couldn’t believe it at first. I had difficulty persuading customers to leave the tearoom.” 

The combination of violent winds and heat drove the firemen who climbed onto the roof back initially, but before long they had successfully combated the flames from spreading to surrounding offices which were seriously flooded.

Unfortunately, the harbourmaster’s own office was left with nothing but stonework standing. 

By 5pm, firemen had tied ropes and wires to its blackened beams attaching these to a tender. 

“First to fall was one of the four clock faces, and after several more attempts the rest of the skeleton tower collapsed in a shower of charred timber.” 

Captain Tudman had stated how fortunate it was that the wind hadn’t been blowing in the opposite direction as this would have caused the tower to collapse on the other pier buildings.

The only items that were lost in the fire were “valuable pier records” and a “loudspeaker system”. 

Workmen that same week demolished the tower in the interest of safety. 

4. 1963 ‘Blaze in new flat’ 

“FIREMEN wearing masks put out flames in the smoke-filled living-room of a top flat at 1 Minister’s Brae, Rothesay, on Tuesday afternoon”, an article from Friday, May 3rd, 1963 reads. 

According to the article, an elderly man, Mr Wm. Gillies, was the only occupant of the house where his hair was singed. 

Thankfully, this was the only damage that Mr Gillies faced as he was directed out of the living room into the care of his neighbours. 

Part-time firemen had rushed to the High Street station when the bellow of the siren called them, only to discover that the outbreak was “less than 100 yards away” in a recently erected block of council flats on the corner of Minister’s Brae and High Street. 

Crowds gathered to watch as the flames rapidly extinguished and windows were flung open to disperse smoke. 

The damage consisted of scorched, blackened walls and ceilings of the living room, along with damaged furniture. 

5. 1964 ‘High Street factory blaze’ 

In the early hours of December 17th 1964,  a fire was fought at the children’s wear factory off high Street, Rothesay, and extinguished by the part-time fire brigade. 

The alarm was raised at 12.10am by a “passerby, Mr James Tait, 1 Minister’s Brae.” The firemen arrived very quickly to the scene and fought the blaze all through the freezing cold night until early hours when they eventually went off duty at 6am. 

The blaze is thought to have began in a steam boiler room at the back end of the factory operated by J. Langan and Co. (Rothesay), Ltd. It was then that the boiler room roof collapsed. 

Eventually, flames found their way into the main building, swallowing the entire steam pressing room but missing its roof. The steam presses, benches and machinery were charred and blackened. 

Station officer Robert Tait at the time said: “The small boiler room was well alight when we arrived and we concentrated on saving the steam pressing room to which it is attached. We were worried  about the roof but managed to save it.” 

The factory, which was an offshoot of a Glasgow firm, was unoccupied at the time meaning that no one was hurt in the process.












*Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the following pictures or title headings. All rights go to the Buteman, Rothesay Express and their articles. I am also telling the stories of these Buteman articles in my own way, using their work as research, evidence (via quotes) and inspiration for this article that aims to educate. 

I’d also like to give a huge thank you to Richard Hunter for providing me with his own personal archives to allow me to do this story. To the Buteman and Rothesay Express for exceptional journalism over the last 154 years, in which I credit to all 5 of these reports, and the staff at Bute Museum (particularly their archivist Jean McMillan) for being so accommodating and aiding me on my history-related quests and articles. I’m always so grateful for their help. 

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Rothesay Castle

The once dominating, bustling hub of Bute’s Viking Raids and regal occupation by The Stewarts now lies as a quiet, well preserved (despite its age), central artefact amongst the everyday commotion of Rothesay life. One of the oldest stone castles in Scotland, and certainly one of the most uncommon due to its unusual circular plan, has survived a remarkable history, much of which can’t be easily accessed through a hand-out pamphlet.

I’ve decided to take the most unusual, fascinating and real nitty-gritty facts about this must-see Rothesay landmark that has survived the greatest battle of all – the test of time – and compile it into one easily-digestible article. Here are 5 things that you didn’t know (and if you did, then pretend you don’t so you don’t put me out of a job) about Rothesay Castle:

1. The castle may not have originally been built to be a castle at all

McNab, Archie; Rothesay Castle; Bute Museum; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/rothesay-castle-166506

One of the most captivating factors of anything is not actually what we do know, but more so what we don’t and Rothesay Castle is no exception to this. Much of its history finds itself torn between intense speculation and historiographical mysteries but one thing can be agreed upon: its history is a lengthy one.

One of the proposed theories amongst the debate is that this proud castle wasn’t actually built to be a castle at all. It’s been noted that the likelihood of its erection as a fortress during on-and-off Viking Raids in the late 11th Century is more probable than the theory that Walter the 3rd High Steward was the first ever to construct it in the early 1200s. Still, there is no certainty on how the castle ‘came to be’.

The Viking Raids commenced around the year AD 800. Norway seized control of the Western Isles and Scotland – no longer governed by its own native kings – was now under the thumb of the Norse ones instead. In 1098, Scotland and Norway agreed a treaty which allowed the Norse to seize all of the Scottish West Coast Islands after Norse King, Magnus Barefoot, noticed weakening domination in their Western occupation and was the leader of many expeditions to consolidate, and once again, dominate with full Norse control.

Many speculate that during this domination, the Scottish King was under the impression that Bute and Arran would be an exception to this treaty due to protection from the Kintyre Peninsula but he believed wrong. Magnus claimed both Bute and Arran for Norway and as a way of marking his territory, the first fortress of Rothesay came to be and speculated to be what stood before what we now know as Rothesay Castle. Whether it was originally made of wood or stone is, again, unknown.

Despite its earliest history falling under myths, legends and intense speculation – one more probable theory remains and is widely regarded in many history books as close-as-possible to fact, which is that Walter, the 3rd High Steward, built the first stone castle in the early 1200s as a defence against the Norwegians. Much of its history, thereafter, became a lot clearer.



2. The castle was not always in the centre of Rothesay

Rothesay Castle, 2018. Photography: John Williams. Source: @williamsjohn76

In my early childhood, when my dad would take me on little tours of Bute, he would always tell me that in Rothesay, before all its promenade improvements, the sea would reach just before the castle and in my cynical, ignorant youth and growing up around the thick, flood walls of ‘down the front’, I would shrug this comment off. In my later research, however, I discovered that my dad was right. Naturally and untamed, the sea has a completely different idea for the town’s formation and this is evident in the positioning of Rothesay Castle.

Rothesay Castle was initially built upon a mound approximately 100 metres from the sea and whether that mound was man-made or natural is another part of its history that remains unknown. It sat raised, projecting dominance at the head of Rothesay Bay, as a symbol of powerful governance before harbour and promenade works over the last 2 centuries have forced the castle inland as a quaint artefact.

Even today, it’s hard to imagine how impressive the large stone fortress would have looked to any incomers of times gone-by but today, I’d argue that it’s just as impressive as its charming, rugged-self. Even in the centre of town, with its multitude of stories that spanned more centuries than is easily fathomable, it carries mysteries that will forever be etched on its injured walls.



3. The Kings of Norway, not once, but TWICE seized the castle

Rothesay Castle as it may have looked in the 16th Century (Hewison 1985). Source: thecastlesofscotland.co.uk

The Kings of Norway captured Rothesay twice: in 1230 and in 1263.

After the surrender of the Hebrides, including Bute, by Edgar of Scotland in 1098, his descendents were set on regaining the jewel island. However, Norway still ruled the Western Isles legally until the Treaty of Perth in 1266 which formally transferred power from Norway to Scotland. Everything before this treaty was a huge, messy power struggle.

The Scottish King, Malcolm, gave Bute as a reward to Walter Fitz Alan, the High Steward of Scotland and the head of the family which became the royal Stewarts, for the Kingdom of Scotland’s victory in the Battle of Renfrew against the Kingdom of the Isles.

However, when Norsemen attacked Rothesay in 1230 as part of a 3 day siege on the orders of King Haakon IV of Norway, what followed was probably a much more dramatic escalation of events than that of 1263 as it became preserved by one of the saga writers, Haakon Haakonson:

“And they sailed south round the Mull of Kintyre, and so in to Bute. The Scots sat there in the castle; and a certain Steward was one of the Scots. They attacked the castle, but the Scots defended it, and they poured out boiling pitch. The Norwegians hewed the wall with axes, because it was soft. The torch-bearer who was called Skagi shot the steward to death. Many of the Norwegians fell, before they won the castle.”

Not only had the Scots lost their castle, but they had lost their Steward in the process. Documents reveal, however, that the Norse had only a short occupation here before they withdrew to Kintyre.



4. Robert the Bruce had ties to Rothesay Castle

Robert the Bruce. Source: Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.

At the initial outbreak of the first Scottish Wars of Independence, Rothesay Castle was in the hands of James Stewart. Sadly, it fell to the English in the late 13th century, only 30 years after Bute had finally had some peace and security from the Norwegian occupation. Most of Scotland, including Rothesay Castle, was occupied by the English Army from 1303 and this persisted until King Robert I retook the castle in 1306. A short-lived, but probably exhausting, 3 years.

The castle was returned to James Stewart, who would go on to connect his family by marriage to Robert the Bruce when his son Walter married the King’s daughter, Marjorie Bruce. In 1371, their son would become Robert the II. The first Stewart King and the one to establish the tradition that whomever had heir to the throne would be titled Duke of Rothesay. A title currently held by Prince Charles.

In the later years (1400s), Rothesay Castle seen a huge refurbishment with an enhanced gatehouse to ensure stronger protection and the addition of four round towers. However, once again, the chaos within these castle walls were once again stirred in the 1600s by the occupation of Cromwellian forces during the civil wars of the 1650s and again in 1685 by Archibald, the 9th Earl of Argyll’s revolts. Both of which caused damage to the castle’s interior and exterior, rendering it uninhabitable. This is when the Keeper and his family moved from the now derelict castle to the Old Mansion House across the road on the High Street, which remains as one of Rothesay’s oldest buildings.

Rothesay Castle was placed in state care in 1961 by the Marquess of Bute and is now cared for by Historic Scotland.


5. There was a paddle steamer named after the castle that caused the deaths of 130 people

Rothesay Castle or Rothsay Castle Paddle Steamer. Frederick Whymper. 1887. Source: Mechanical Curator Collection.

Built for service on the River Clyde in 1816, Rothesay Castle or Rothsay Castle was a paddle steamer named after Bute’s famous landmark. She was later transferred to Liverpool where she was used for day trips along the coast into Northern Wales and it was here that she was shipwrecked in 1831. This cost the lives of 130 people.



If you enjoyed reading about this historic landmark, please visit the Bute Museum website, Visit Scotland and Castles of Scotland’s website to find out more.

Recommended further readings would also be ‘Bute: An Island History’ by Ian Maclagan and Anne Speirs, as well as ‘The Isle of Bute’ by Norman S. Newton.

Also, huge thank you to John Williams for allowing me to use his amazing pictures of the castle in its modern condition.

How the Earliest Settlers on Bute Lived

Long before the days of two Co-Operatives, drinking up the woods (although, this could be an age-long island tradition) and doing laps of the town in a car on a Friday night, Bute was loved for its natural qualities such as its fertile land, shielded waters and close proximity to mainland Scotland; qualities that proved popular with both settlers and – of course – invaders. With an island whose history of settlers stretches as far back as 10,000 years ago, we’re fortunate to have the evidence of how exactly the earliest settlers on Bute lived.


Mesolithic Settlers

Mesolithic Camp Site by Wessex Archaeology is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

The earliest settlers of Bute lived approximately between 10,000 and 5,000 years ago or what is also referred to as the Middle Stone Age. Ironically, these ‘settlers’ never really settled as their lifestyle required them to move from place to place for survival.

According to Bute: An Island History by Ian Maclagan and Anne Speirs, evidence suggests that the Mesolithic settlers would set up temporary camps in which they would return to seasonally in order to hunt and fish. However, no trace of their homes on the island – which would have consisted of animal skins and wood- has ever been discovered; their only remnants left in the form of middens and tools and the former of which was discovered at the North end of the island at Glecknabae, where deposited Oyster Shells were found.

The best settlement site from this age was found at Little Kilchattan Farm and provided all that one would require for a quality settlement of this time: beside a stream and close to the sea, where fishing was accessible. Furthermore, unlike today, Bute was far more abundant in natural, nutritional food sources such as deer and wild boar (which you couldn’t purchase out of McQueen’s or McIntyre’s Butchers).

However, this wandering way of life began to fizzle out as Bute entered its next period of history – a time where people truly ‘settled’ and when farming culture was brought to life about 5,000 years ago.


Neolithic Settlers

Neolithic Settlement Illustration

So far, the only glance into Neolithic life on Bute comes from a domestic site discovered in the early 1900s at Townhead, Rothesay , where Flexible Technology and the Joint Campus is currently located and this is the first evidence of the living of the Neolithic people rather than the dead. Pottery, tools and charred remains of food were amongst the many things discovered at this site that provided insight into their way of life.

The Neolithic people were innovators and pioneers of their time as pottery and stone axes became a fresh and advanced technology then. Not only this, but these people had determined how to acquire food via planting and harvesting grain along with domesticating cattle and sheep, when agriculture was brought to Bute from the Mediterranean – It’s a shame they never brought the weather.

People finally began to settle permanently on Bute as a routine of cultivation and sowing required them to and so communities began to form. These were the true founding mother and fathers of Bute’s Young Farmers.

Like previously mentioned, the Neolithic people were notorious for leaving evidence of their dead which were mainly found in the form of tombs and burial chambers – primarily in the North end of the island – such as Glenvoidean. The ‘Chambered Cairn’ here was excavated by Dorothy Marshall in the 1960s and within the burial site chambers, bowls with distinct patterns and a flint knife was found – and incredibly well preserved too.

It’s also important to note that flint was used in the Mesolithic period too but is not natural to Bute, thus indicating that it was brought from elsewhere to these sites.

This simple, seemingly peaceful way of life was short-lived before Bute’s primary focus became security, weaponry and defence in the following ages. With the introduction of metal to Scotland in the Bronze Age and the creation of forts and warfare in the Iron Age – Bute would never be the same again.

*If you’re interested in further reading of other settlements such as the Bronze Age, Iron Age and Early Christians, you can visit the Bute Museum website here: https://www.butemuseum.org.uk/

And I also recommend Bute: An Island History by Ian Maclagan and Anne Speirs which you can purchase via Amazon : https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bute-Island-History-Ian-Maclagan/dp/090581214X

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Mount Stuart

Opening to the public in 1995, this eclectic array of infrastructure has served to be one of the most breathtaking manors in British history, situated on the gem of the Clyde: the Isle of Bute. Mount Stuart has come to be a hidden gem in its own right, surrounded by 300 acres of landscape and nature which is just as famed as the building itself. 

Though popular, the house is certainly as mysterious as it looks. From both its interior and exterior, Mount Stuart tells a story of its own; from its blend of Georgian and Neo-Gothic architecture, to its uncarved pillars. This building has seen death, tragedy and jubilation all within its grounds. Here are 5 things you didn’t know about Mount Stuart:  

1. The original building was destroyed by fire!

Mount Stuart, original building post-fire. Source: http://www.mountstuart.com 

The magnificent building that we know and have come to love today wasn’t initially built until the late 19th century. The original house was constructed in 1719, designed by Alexander McGill, however, was severely damaged by fire in 1877. 

Most of the contents of the house were salvaged and can be seen today in the new build which was commissioned by the 3rd Marquess of Bute and co-designed with Sir Robert Rowand Anderson. These contents include library books that date as far back as the 1400s and dining room fireplaces. 

Fortunately, the Georgian wings of the original house also survived the fire and can be seen today incorporated with the Neo-Gothic design. 


2. The house has been left unfinished due to death TWICE!

John Crichton-Stuart, 3rd Marquess of Bute. Source: Bute Archive at Mount Stuart 

Described as the “best amateur architect of his day” and a “scholar of the highest order” as well as the “richest man in Europe” by knowledgeable Mount Stuart tour guide, Jim Bicker on Channel 5’s Secret Scotland, the 3rd Marquess of Bute commissioned a rebuild of the house in the late 19th century, inspired by his travels, nature, philosophy and astronomy. 

It’s said that the Marquess loved animals and as a child, would perform little ceremonies whenever he happened across a corpse of an animal. This would explain why the entire interior is coated in them from carvings to paintings. 

However, the work that was being put into the house ceased abruptly as Lord Bute passed away at the age of 50 in 1900 with a stroke. The work of 21 years had suddenly came to a halt for over 60 workmen and Mount Stuart was, regrettably, left unfinished. 

Rather coincidentally, the 6th Marquess of Bute met a similar fate. In 1988, the work that was left unfinished by his Great-Grandfather was taken up again by John and his wife, Jennifer. However, it wasn’t before long that he unfortunately passed away young and for the second time, plans for this incredible mansion were halted by death. Mount Stuart was once again – left unfinished.

Even to this day, you can still see evidence of unfinished work from uncarved pillars to unpolished arches, and even the signatures of workmen that never got to finish their work. 


3. It holds a lot of ‘first’ titles

Marble Hall, source: mountstuart.com

The First…

• Million pound house in Scotland
• House in Scotland to be wired for electricity (which Queen Victoria got word of and wanted in place for her home in Balmoral)
• House to have a lift in Scotland 
• House to have an indoor heated swimming pool in the world (though there is speculation that it is likely that Romans had beaten the marquess to this) 
• House to have a central heating system in Scotland 

4. It served as a hospital during WWI

Wounded soldiers during WWI at Mount Stuart House. Source: mountstuart.com 

The home of the Marquess of Bute was used as a Naval hospital during the Great War- a war that seen over 300 men from the island losing their lives while on active service in the Royal and Merchant navies & Territorial armies. 

For those wounded, an operating theatre was put in place in a conservatory situated on the Chapel side of the building and was said to be placed here for better natural lighting whilst operations were carried out. 

Very few people knew that one of the surgeons operating in the conservatory was a local Bute man, Sir William Mcewen, widely considered ‘the father of neurosurgery’ and made many contributions to the advancement of bone graft surgery as well as the surgical treatment of hernias and removal of lungs. 

Mcewen was born in Port Bannatyne, Bute, in 1848 and studied medicine at the University of Glasgow, gaining his degree in 1872.

Today he is buried in the churchyard of St. Blane’s Church at Kingarth. 


5. It’s hosted many famous weddings!

The Marble Chapel, Mount Stuart. Source: http://www.mountstuart.com

It may come as no surprise that this glorious, 80ft tall chapel has been host to some of the most extravagant weddings but in recent years, it’s hosted some big names within its walls. 

The White Marble Chapel is a direct copy of La Seo, a Roman Catholic Cathedral in Zaragoza, Spain and its floors inspired by the Sistine Chapel-a luxurious design fit only for the most luxurious. 

The Chapel was scene to the wedding of the 4th Marquess of Bute’s daughter- Jean Crichton-Stuart in 1928 and was said to be the first wedding at Mount Stuart in 200 years. 

In 2003, fashion designer and daughter of Beatle legend, Paul McCartney; Stella, reportedly dined in Mount Stuart after her wedding ceremony with names such as Madonna, Guy Ritchie, Hugh Grant, Chris Martin, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kate Moss and Tom Ford, according to Vogue in a 2003 article.  

Furthermore, in 2014, JLS star ‘JB’ Gill married his then fiancé, Chloe Tangney, in the Chapel- telling the Scotsman that he wanted “a traditional wedding” and claiming that it was the best day of his life. 

Bell Bottoms on Bute: A Look Back to 1970s Island Life

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The sound of bagpipes competing with the thunderous noise of T-Rex, tartan interwoven in the hem of denim flares and the smell of a fish supper laced with the remnants of Embassy cigarettes and El Dorado that clung to never-been-washed leather jackets, stained with memories, that if could talk, would say too much. That was 70s Bute.

    20th century Bute had long been host to summers with sweltering heat, accessible beaches and cafés that stretched from end to end of Rothesay’s picturesque esplanade. You’d be forgiven for thinking that this was an island situated amidst a Caribbean paradise and it would come as no surprise that this little west-coast island became a tropical getaway for city folks and day-trippers, even acquiring the title of ‘Madeira of the Clyde’ and there is no better demonstration of the vibrancy and buzzing of Bute than in what writer Tom Wolfe refers to as the “‘Me’ Decade” of the 1970s in his New York Magazine essay “‘The ‘Me’ Decade and the Third Great Awakening”. It was a time where individualism reigned, sending cultural shockwaves through the Western world in the form of music, film and fashion and Bute was no exception to this sociocultural storm.

    By day, the little quaint, charming town of Rothesay boasted packed cafés that included Joe Foschetti’s XL Café on Gallowgate, Café Bruna on the ‘front’ and Gerry’s Castle Café on High Street. The choices of places to go were endless and as the Glasgow Fair fortnight arrived, it brought an influx of tourists that Rothesay was able to cater to with several B&Bs as well as the CoCamps at Roseland and not to forget those who dared to rough it in Bute’s famous wilderness.

    However, by night as most closed their doors, other’s began to open and so this endearing town transformed into a bustling hub of brilliant chaos, made to be taken on by the young, brave and eccentric: “I always loved going into a busy Rothesay pub, jam-packed with the doors open, and someone belting out a Dolly Parton or a Neil Diamond number, folk singing along, dancing about mad. The stale smell of smoke and beer. Magic.” Says Rothesay local, Charlie McGuire, 65.

   Martin Gillies, 60, a former DJ for the ‘Moat Disco’ agrees with this: “The Moat Disco was great, where you had mods, rockers, new romantics and punks all on the same dance floor and also later came the Harbour Bar discos at the Port Royal where you could watch the floor moving up and down it was that stowed.”

A ‘night out’ was a bit of an understatement when it came to Rothesay, as binges could last up to many nights and even weekends: “Typically, me and my pals would be out Thursday,Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, every single week. I suppose that, like a lot of others, I drank way too much. It was a pub society, and there was a very strong drinking culture here, more so than on the mainland even, but when you’re young you don’t think about these things. Although, there was never a problem getting home from a night out here, no matter how drunk you got.” Says Charlie.

You couldn’t partake in a good-old Rothesay night out without owning the proper attire and this could be obtained from shops like Fraser Gillies on Montague Street or Caldwells on Victoria Street. Paul MacDonald, 57, a renowned ‘rocker’ in the late 70s, talks of his style at this time: “My music taste matched the clothes I wore. Corduroys, black or denim flares, denim jacket with a t- shirt band name on it such as Zeppelin or Sabbath and of course, doc martens.”

  However, fashion trends were typically late to the island, much like everything else, and many would take trips to the mainland for their clothes shops as Charlie mentions: “I was never much of a fashion guru, but I loved a lot of the styles of the seventies. I loved having my hair long, big  sideboards, flared jeans, platform shoes, college jumpers, denim shirts and jackets but things got a bit more sophisticated and you’d be going to hip shops up the Toon, as we called Glasgow.”

   Although many trends did arrive on Bute and of course, better late than never, the rural island held true to its traditionally agricultural values Charlie explains: “Bute being only an hour and a half from Glasgow meant that eventually there was the same styles and fashions on display here as in the big city, but the island had its own flavour too. Being largely an agriculture environment, Bute had a rich seam of traditional Scottish country culture, and a thriving Young Farmers scene.”

Not only did Bute thrive from its agriculture, but it boomed with talent and entertainment from places such as The Winter Garden Theatre, Rothesay Pavilion and the much-loved cinema: The Regal. Bute was a place in which both national and international superstars were not only a produce of but where many of them performed. Some of these big acts included Scottish musician and friend of the Beatles,  Donovan.

​Charlie describes how Bute got a taste of the 70s music scene: “I remember going to see Donovan with my girlfriend at the Pavillion. Even here on Bute we got a wee taste of [the music scene] when groups like Chicory Tip and Blackfoot Sue, both of whom had number one hits, played the Pavilion. They were joined by lots of Glasgow bands like The Verge, Molls Myre and other English acts. The big event was usually the local Sub Aqua Club Dance, which was always mobbed.”

  From Bute at this time came the fame of international child-star, Lena Zavaroni, who was the youngest person in history to have an album in the top ten UK Albums Chart at the age of just 10 with Ma!. Paul and Charlie describe Bute’s reaction to Lena’s fame at that time:
“It was good to see Lena in Opportunity Knocks and on the TV in general but it felt kind of surreal.” Says Paul.

Charlie agrees by describing his own first hand experience with her: “I remember standing outside Chrissy Jenkin’s pub, The Athletic, on the Gallowgate, listening to this new singing sensation, Lena Zavaroni, pure belting it out one Saturday afternoon. She was incredible. When she appeared in Hughie Green’s “Opportunity Knocks” on TV it was just the biz! Everyone loved her.”

  Lena went on to perform with huge artists such as Liza Minelli and Frank Sinatra, Charlie recalls:
“I remember my Dad coming home from school one day, in a state of shock. Big Charlie didn’t get into such states. Ever. But he’d been watching Lena on a tv special with his hero, Frank Sinatra, the previous night- and suddenly realised she was in his new class that day! What impressed him most was how polite, shy and unassuming Lena was. He was in awe of her. It was so funny to see him react like that.”

  Lena was not the only Rothesay-born music star, with keyboardist Billy McIsaac performing on Top of the Pops with his band Slik and going on to have a big hit with the track Forever and Ever. Charlie recalls fond memories of Billy:“I knew Billy, he used to let me sit on with him on a Sunday morning in the Bute Arms, me playing the drums. Really decent guy. One night Midge Ure came over and stayed at his Mum’s in Dewar Avenue. He was on Top of the Pops quite a few times with Slik, and then a new group called The Zones.”

  It would be unrealistic and rather naive to assume that Bute in the 70s was boasting all sunshines and rainbows with its flourishing tourism, endless dining and renowned entertainment because the reality is, it wasn’t. The truth of the matter is, that like any decade, it had its peaks and it had its pits and the ripples from post-war Britain and the politics of Scotland specifically, had an immense impact that arrived as waves upon its sandy shores.

  Not only Bute but Scotland’s main and most well-known issue in the 70s (and still to this day) was the lack of job opportunities. This put huge strain on the island’s youth and for many, their only option was to seek work or further education on the mainland as Charlie explains: “To get on in life, you’ve pretty much got to go.”

However, the introduction of the construction yard at Ardyne relieved the pressures of work for some with long hours and great wages as Charlie states : “Ardyne was good for the the town, providing much needed jobs. It was a time of prosperity for some, but it didn’t last, unfortunately.”

Much of this, like the rest of Scotland, led to an increase in ‘Gang Culture’ and a general increase in violence which was particularly felt in the West and Central Scotland. Although Rothesay only being home to a number of small gangs that were mainly “bravado”, the real issue lay with gangs that would come “doon the watter” looking for trouble and the violence even extended to fights between locals and the Navy. Charlie recalls: “Often when the sailors came ashore they headed for the pubs  and the Toon were waiting for them. There was a melee like a wild-west saloon fight in The Grapes one Saturday between sailors and Rothesay youths. There were some nasty incidents, same as anywhere, but in comparison to Glasgow it was pretty tranquil. Most guys just grew out of it  got girlfriends and settled down. It was just part of growing up here in the 1970’s.”

However, the biggest cultural change in Bute at this time, was the collapse of the tourist trade and many felt the effects of a government they claim “failed to invest in the future of the town”. By the mid-70s, cheap air package holidays to Spain became affordable to Glasgow’s masses and the competition proved too much for what was once known as the “Madeira of the Clyde”.

Charlie looks fondly back on his experiences of the 70s on Bute: “I had a very mixed time of it growing up in Rothesay. There was a real community here, no real problems, but quite a lot of poverty. Some people had a struggle, and many kids didn’t get much of a start in life. But almost everyone I grew up with, from whatever background, remembers the seventies with affection and nostalgia.”

  Paul agrees by saying “I would never change growing up in the 70s for the world. Although there were hardships and a lot of unemployment, the community pulled together and you could ask your neighbour for milk, sugar etc. It does say a lot though when a lot of people had tick bills to buy food and clothes. We were all on the same boat, so to say.”

It is evident that Bute since the 70s has both progressed and regressed over time, with the decline in both tourism and population, Bute has seen many of its much-loved places and faces come and go but its legacy will remain and although we have reached the end of our trip down memory lane, some of it’s diversions of tales and accounts will have to remain untouched, for the culture of a decade to be explored concisely in one piece is near impossible. Whether that’s good, bad or indifferent, almost certainly, for most, they will be thankful that their old leather jackets don’t talk.