Friday 2 September 2022

The Plague Village of Eyam and Stella's Kitchen

A Village of Self-Sacrifice and a Unique Restaurant

The Idea


Derbyshire
In April 2020, when the Covid lockdown was at its most Draconian, I posted Swynnerton: A Village in Lockdown. I thought at the time it would be interesting, when this was all over, to visit Eyam and see how their experience of the plague compared with our experience of Covid.

The idea went on the back burner for a while. Then my friend Brian pointed me towards an episode of the Hairy Bikers Go North which featured Stella’s Kitchen, just outside Eyam. A historical trip with a special lunch seemed an ideal birthday day out, and so it became.

The Peak District

Although it is less than 45 miles from home, the journey to Eyam takes an hour and a half. The village is in the Derbyshire Dales, in the heart of the Peak District, Britain’s oldest National Park…

The Peak District and Eyam

… and roads in National Parks are not engineered for speed.

A Peak District major road - and there are many lanes

We crossed the southern end of the Peak District, known as the White Peak, a limestone upland riven with deep valleys. In summer it can look colourful and bucolic, but in the winter it becomes muddy and monochrome.

The White Peak, drystone walls and green fields

The north end, the Dark Peak consists of moorland over Gritstone so it looks wild (and muddy) all year round. A few hills rise from both the limestone and gritstone (see Shutlingsloe; Cowpat Walk 5) but despite the name, the Peak district has little in the way of peaks.

Eyam

Eyam is a large village with almost 1,000 inhabitants. As so often in Peak District villages, houses have dark stone walls and dark slate roofs. They do not look their best when the weather is wet or gloomy, but on a sunny summer’s day, festooned with hanging baskets, they are a delight,

Eyam (a photo with no hanging baskets and four empty window boxes!)

Tax records suggest the population in the 17th century was about 750. The population of many Peak District villages has dwindled over the last couple of centuries as traditional industries have disappeared. Eyam’s lead mines have long been worked out, cottage industries like shoemaking and wool and silk weaving moved into factories in towns, even the dairy industry has departed looking (quite literally) for greener pastures than Eyam's cool climate and poor soil can provide.

But tourism has seen Eyam buck the trend; it is not just another pretty Peak District village, it is a plague village with a unique story.

Bubonic Plague

Originating, probably in China, around 1330, the Black Death moved westward. Medieval people travelled less and more slowly than we do, Covid took weeks to reach Wolverhampton from Wuhan, the Black Death took 16 years to arrive in what is now Türkiye. Spread within Europe was faster, the disease reaching these islands in 1349. It died away in 1351 after killing 25-30% of Europe’s entire population.

It died away but never disappeared, a second outbreak in England ten years later killed a further 700,000 out of a surviving population of 2.5 million.

Sporadic outbreaks continued across Europe for the next 500 years. In London in 1592-3 the plague, as it was now called, killed 20,000 and closed the theatres. Shakespeare fled to Stratford and wrote 5 plays, though not his best, those came later. A major outbreak hit London in 1665. It took a while for the news to reach Eyam, and when it did, they saw in reason to worry. London is 140 miles away, surely a safe distance.

The Plague Comes to Eyam

In early September 1665 a parcel of clothes sent from London was delivered to Alexander Hadfield, the village tailor. He lived a cottage near the church with his wife, Mary, Edward and Jonathan Cooper, her two sons from a previous marriage, and his assistant/servant George Viccars.

The package was opened by Viccars on the 6th of September. Some stories say he found the clothes damp, so hung them up to dry. Whether he did, or not, Viccars soon showed symptoms of plague, and was dead by the end of the next day. Four-year-old Edward and twelve-year-old Jonathan died within weeks. Alexander Hadfield, avoided infection then, but succumbed later in the outbreak. Mary Hadfield survived though she lost 13 relatives. The house became known as ‘Plague Cottage.;

Plague Cottage, Eyam

Plague also cut a swathe through their neighbours. At Rose cottage, next-door Thomas and Mary Thorpe and all their seven children would die…

Rose Cottage, Eyam

…on the other side Peter Hawksworth and his son Humphrey died at the start of the outbreak. Peter’s wife, Jane, survived but lost 25 relatives.

The Hawksworth Cottage, Eyam

Plague: How not to Catch it and How to Cure it if you Do

In the 17th century diseases were thought to be caused by miasma, bad air that could be detected by its evil smell. To protect themselves people would carry posies of sweet-smelling flowers or smoke a pipe and surround themselves with a cloud of tobacco smoke.

But these methods did not even address the right problem. The plague is actually a disease of fleas. The disease killed the rats they usually fed on, so they moved on to humans, it killed the humans too and then it killed the fleas.

Ring-a-ring o' roses,
A pocket full of posies,
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
We all fall down

Eyam’s plague museum resides in the former Methodist chapel. Putting a bacillus on display is not practicable, so it is, inevitably, a little short on artefacts, but its plentiful and excellent explanation is a major source for what follows.

Eyam plague museum

One artefact it does have, however, is a plague doctor’s suit, recently made to the traditional design. I am not sure how realistic his height is, but the beak would have been stuffed with posies to minimise any chance of breathing in the deadly miasma.

Lynne and the Plague Doctor, Eyam Musuem

The suit looks less bizarre when compared with some suggested treatments. If there do a blotch appear; take a pigeon and pluck the feathers off her tail, very bare, and set her tail to the sore, and she will draw out the venom till she die; then take another and set her likewise, continuing so till all the venom be drawn out, which you shall see by the pigeons, for they will all die with the venom as long as there is any; also a chicken or hen is very good. (thanks to the Museum for that).

Covid is different, spreading either through contact with droplets or inhalation of aerosol (an odourless miasma!) expelled by sufferers’ coughs and sneezes. Masks, social distancing and sanitisation of hands and anything they would touch are the best preventions. Most of us dutifully followed the instructions, and they were effective - up to a point.

Treatment came from a growing list of anti-viral drugs like remdesivir and dexamethasone (who makes these names up?) but the game changers were the vaccines.

It is easy to mock the long beaks and plucked pigeons of the 1660s, but they did their best, given the knowledge of the time; they had no drugs, and no concept of vaccines. It is tempting to mock those, mainly in the USA, who chose their treatment for political rather than medical reasons; no masks, no vaccines, and plenty of ivermectin – very effective against parasites, but no more use against Covid than a bare-arsed pigeon. Some died for their beliefs, their choice, I suppose, but their arrogant selfishness was a danger to all. It is wholly appropriate to mock our (thankfully ex) prime minster, who made the Covid rules but felt little need to follow them himself, and still does not understand what he did wrong.

Stella’s Kitchen

It is time to break for lunch.

Stella used to work for the UN, married a Peak district man and 14 years ago came to live just outside Eyam. Originally from Cameroon she joined the church to become part of the community, started taking food to sharing lunches and now has the Peak District's only restaurant serving African and Caribbean food. It is not entirely a conventional restaurant.

Stella's Kitchen, Eyam

Stella featured in the Hairy Bikers Go North (part 7). The link is to the BBC iPlayer and Stella’s section starts at 21 minutes. iPlayer is only available in the UK (I think) and this series of the Hairy Bikers is available only until mid-November 2022.

There is a limited lunch menu – we went for the meat platter – and on this day a limited clientele, we were the only customers. Stella has no alcohol licence; you can take your own, but I was driving and we decided to stick to her hibiscus brew, nostalgically reminiscent of the karkadeh we used to drink in Sudan all those years ago (1987 to be precise).

A glass of sorrel/folere/bissap - and other names

The meat platter has pork, chicken (cooked from scratch while we waited), fried plantain and ‘spinach supreme’. The meat was top quality and superbly cooked. I thoroughly enjoyed it all, but was mildly disappointed by the shortage of ‘unfamiliar African flavours,’ perhaps Stella plays safe at lunchtime. The evening buffet offers mores choice and things with unfamiliar names, so perhaps we should go and spend a night in Eyam sometime soon. It was my birthday, so I got a picture with the lady herself.

Me, Stella and the meat platter

Meanwhile, Back in Eyam

After 30 deaths in September/October 1665, the disease abated. There were deaths every month, but never more than a handful until spring 1666 when they started rising again.

Despite the miasma orthodoxy, it was obvious the disease spread from person to person. The plague had largely been contained in London, but the Eyam outbreak could potentially spread it much further.

Some villagers looked to the vicar, William Mompesson, for leadership but the monarchy had been restored only 5 years previously after 11 years of the puritan Commonwealth, so Mompesson approached Eyam’s former minister Thomas Stanley. Although Mompesson had replaced Stanley after the ‘Great Ejection’ of puritan ministers in 1662, the two agreed to work together for the greater good.

The finest artefact in the museum is a carved wooden bench dated 1664 bearing the names of William Mompesson and his wife Catherine. I am not sure it is best shown off in a tableau.

The Mompesson's bench, Eyam museum

They decided to put the village under, what we would might now call ‘lockdown’ until the disease burnt itself out. Catherine Mompesson could have left before the lockdown was announced in May 1666, but chose to stay and help her husband.

Under the new arrangement families were to bury their own dead wherever they could. Most were marked with nothing more permanent than a cross scratched on a stone.

Grave marker, Eyam Museum

Only one stone with a name is known to exist. The gravestone of one-year-old Alice Rag (or Wragg) was found beneath the floor of the post office during renovations in the 1960s.

Headstone of Alice (W)rag(g), Eyam Musuem

Church services were moved out of the church into a nearby natural amphitheatre to allow for what we have learned to call ‘social distancing’.

The entire village was quarantined. Supplies was sent by merchants from surrounding villages who left them on marked boundary stone. Holes were bored in the stones and filled with vinegar to disinfect coins left in payment.

The Survivors and the Dead

Deaths peaked in August when over 70 died, but by November 1666 the disease had burnt itself out. The plague in London had already been stopped in its tracks by the cleansing effect of the Great Fire of London which started today in 1666.

William Mompesson listed the deaths of 278 people, over a third of the village’s population. It is sobering to read the names of the dead. John Naylor, Ruth Talbot, Anne Chapman, Matthew Elliott all died of plague in June 1666, but they could well be the names of those who died of Covid in June 2020.

Nobody fully understands why some died and some lived through it untouched. Elizabeth Hancock was never uninfected despite burying her six children and husband in eight days. Marcus Howe, the village gravedigger handled dozens of infected corpses but came to no harm. Thomas Stanley and William Mompesson survived, Catherine Mompesson died on the 25th of August. She alone of that cohort is buried in Eyam churchyard.

The tomb of Catherine Mompesson

Led by Mompesson and Stanley, the people of Eyam made a remarkable and selfless sacrifice, but their deaths were not in vain, the disease spread no further.

And That’s the End of the Plague?

Photographs (though not the text) from here on are non-plague related photos of Eyam, it isn't all about death and disease.

Bubonic Plague has not revisited these islands since the end of the Eyam outbreak. The last outbreak in western Europe was in the 1700s. So, it’s all over, isn’t it?

Unfortunately not. Worldwide there are 1,000 – 2000 cases reported every year. Adding in unreported case, 5,000 seems a reasonable estimate with well over 100 deaths.

Eyam Hall, right in the centre of the village
Built by the Wright family in 1672. They still live there

And it does not only happen in places so eloquently described by the charming ex-president of the United States as ‘shit-hole countries'.

We spent the academic year 1983-4 in the USA living in Washington (the western state not the eastern city). One day local news reported the death from plague of a man in the city of Yakima. Yakima was 120 miles away, as the crow flies, and the other side of the Cascade Mountains, but it felt too close.

During our Spring Break perambulations, we parked our tent for a night in the Lava Beds National Monument in northern California. Signs all around the campground said (these may not be the exact words) ‘Our chipmunks look cute, but do not be tempted to pet them, they carry plague.’ We spent the next night in a motel in Klamath Falls, Oregon, partly to avoid the plague and partly because spring in northern California was so very much colder than our naive expectation.

Laburnum Cottage Eyam, mainly 18th century, but in part the oldest inhabited building
in the village. How old? Nobody's telling.

Plague still has to be watched carefully, the death rate for untreated victims, like those at Eyam is 30%-60%. It is caused by a bacterium, not a virus, so the disease can be effectively treated with antibiotics, lowering the death rate to 1%-15%. There is also a vaccine.

So Would you Prefer Plague, Covid or Cake?

Cake, thank you very much, but if it has to be a disease…..

8th Century cross, Eyam churchyard. Labelled as Celtic (seems unlikely) others
say the style is typical of the Kingdom Mercia (and Eyam was then in northern Mercia)

…we survived Covid in reasonable comfort. With no jobs to lose and a stable income, our only privation was having to cancel various trips around this country and beyond. We cancelled our holiday in Ukraine saying we would do it when Covid was over – or so we thought!. Others had a harder time, I know, but….

The village green and the stocks, Eyam

… we are all 21st century softies. I wonder how many would survive the discomfort, the dirt, the monotonous food and the inability to switch on a light or a heater when needed, never mind the plague. We are used to 21st century comfort and 21st century medical care and nobody in 17th century Eyam cancelled a holiday abroad, or had even dreamed of such a thing existing.

12th century font, Eyam Church

So the question is meaningless, and the answer remains, cake.

Tuesday 26 July 2022

Dinner at the Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath

A Dinner of Many Delights in a Historic Setting

This post contains some pictures of Bath (at the end) but is mainly a restaurant review. Those more interested in the city of Bath should click here.

26-July-2022

47 years of marriage has turned these young people…

Wedding Day, July 1975

…into these crumblies.

Tweedledum and Alice's Granma

Crumbling is hardly a cause for celebration, but celebrate it we do, and this year we set out for Bath to dine in their very bestest restaurant (well, the only one with a Michelin Star).

Bath and the Queensberry Hotel

Bath is, of course, much older than we are, but unlike us, it shows no sign of crumbling​. The finest of English cities; a complete and carefully planned Georgian city, with medieval and Roman inclusions, Bath is a delight.

The location of Bath in North East Somerset

Somerset
Bath
We stayed at the Queensberry Hotel. According to the hotel’s blog the commissioner and original owner of the property, the 8th Marquess of Queensberry who had the townhouses built in 1771, would be proud of the namesake hotel.

Yes, but the 8th Marquess was born in 1818. His son, the 9th Marquess was responsible for boxing’s Queensberry rules and later goaded Oscar Wilde into the libel action that led to his imprisonment, but 1771 was the time of the 5th Marquess, land and racehorse owner and a dissolute gambler. Maybe he commissioned the building, but I cannot be certain.

The Queensberry Hotel, Bath

The signage is very restrained for a major hotel.

The Olive Tree Restaurant

The Olive Tree is a restaurant within the hotel. Cardiff-born head chef Chris Cleghorn has been in post since 2013. He credits his professional development to time spent with (among others) Heston Blumenthal, Adam Simmonds and particularly Michael Caines at Gidleigh Park. He won a Michelin star in 2018 and has maintained it through the last few difficult years.

He offers nine or six-course tasting menu. Back in the days when I could have eaten nine courses, I could not afford it, now I can I am struggling to eat even six. They are small dishes, but there are a lot of them. He also has vegetarian, vegan, pescatarian and dairy-free menus for those who need/prefer them.

The Six

We took our aperitif in the walled garden outside the bar. Once we had finished our drink and watched a hot air balloon pass over our heads we made our way down to the restaurant.

A G&T and a hot air balloon

Course One: Raw Orkney Scallop, Wasabi, Granny Smith Apple, Dill

Lynne loves a scallop, but since 2005, when Claude Bosi served her raw scallops cooked at the table by the magic of warm bouillon, every other chef who essays a scallop dish has been playing catch-up.

Eschewing Bosi’s minimalism, Chris Cleghorn put together a collection of flavours which might be expected to drown out the delicate scallop and then go to war with each other, but they didn’t. Served in a scallop shell on a bed of seaweed, the small pieces of scallop were book-ended by blobs the colour and texture of mayonnaise but with the flavour of wasabi, though without the heat. At the table, a spoonful of Granny Smith granita was deposited over the green liquid in the shell and melted quietly into it. Chilled, sweet, sharp, apple and fennel flavours melded happily with the wasabi and scallop; a complex and very clever dish. Lynne's second favourite scallop dish ever.

Scallop, wasabi, Granny Smith and dill

Matched wine: 2018 Rheinhessen Reisling, Weingut Winter.

Many years ago, German wines were imported in vast quantities, much of it from Hessen and labelled Liebfraumilch, or Niersteiner. It was cheap, slightly sweet and with a flavour of elderflowers. Then tastes matured and fashions changed. This dry, gently acidic, apple/citrus/mineral Riesling was perfect for its job and a world away from the cheap Hessen wines of yore. I wish such wines were more widely available, but they are tainted by association with the past.

Course 2: Veal Sweetbread, Gem Lettuce, Westcombe Ricotta, Hazelnut and Salted Lemon

This was a marvel in two parts. To the left the heart of a little gem lettuce studded with hazelnuts and smeared with Ricotta and salted lemon. The ‘Ricotta’ came from Westcombe Dairy, 20 miles to the south, who produce traditional farmhouse cheddar and use the left-over whey to make whey cheese. They have based their recipe on ricotta, the best-known whey cheese, and use that name though they are ultimately aiming for an unmistakeable West Country product. I don’t usually see the point of lettuce, but this, finished with a hazelnut vinaigrette, was intensely savoury; a little gem in more ways than one.

Lynne with a sweetbread and a gem lettuce

The sweetbread was lightly dusted with flour and cooked to perfection. Crisped on the top edge firm, yet yielding inside. I like sweetbreads but they turn up too rarely on British menus. I have eaten them in Egypt, Canada and closer to home in Gloucestershire, but never one as superbly cooked as this.

One quibble, the two parts of the dish felt rather separate. They did not work against each other, but neither did I feel they really formed a team - a thought reinforced by the plate design..

Matched wine: Blankbottle Familiemoord

Winemaker Pieter Hauptfleisch Walser’s Blankbottle labels are his way of showcasing the best vineyards he has discovered on his South African travels. They are one-offs with a label showing only a quirky name, though this is known to be a Grenache from Swartland. Served chilled it had a pleasant nose, gentle tannin but the finish was short. Grenache usually forms part of blend, and with good reason, I found this slightly disappointing.

Bread

At this point bread arrived. It always does in these meals and I never know why. The courses may be small, but there is plenty of them and I feel no need to fill up on bread - even a bread as good as this. They were rye buns, we were told, but I have never encountered rye so light in colour or weight. We shared one, out of a spirit of enquiry, but left the other, excellent though it was.

Bread!

Course 3: Cornish Monkfish, cooked over coal, leek, ginger, Vin Jaune, sea herbs.

Monkfish has a strange texture and I am never quite sure what the cook is aiming at, though this, surely was tougher and chewier than intended. Neither of us liked the Vin Jaune sauce much either.

Monkfish and Vin Jaune sauce

The little cylinders of leek, though were soft and packed with flavour. The ginger had been toned down – fresh ginger, much as I love it, would have overwhelmed the dish - to just the right note.

Matched wine:2019 Domaine de L’Idylle ‘Cuvee Emilie', Rousette, Savoie

A full-bodied wine considering its mountain origins. Some oak age apparent, good acidity, not a great deal of fruit flavour but perfect for the job it was chosen for.

Course 4:Squab pigeon, celeriac, black truffle, long pepper 

It is an age since I had a good pigeon breast, and this was as good as they come. The skin was cooked, the inside hardly at all, leaving it tender and tasty. I liked the Madeira sauce, but I find celeriac deeply uninteresting. Chris Cleghorn has a way with vegetables but even he cannot put excitement into a wedge of celeriac. The truffle was in the very pleasing blob at the front, and the long pepper..? It is, I read, slightly spicier than black pepper and has a long cylindrical peppercorn. I am uncertain as to its contribution here.

Pigeon

Matched Wine: 2012 Marqués de Zearra Rioja Gran Reserva

I was slightly miffed at Tyddyn Llan in North Wales in 2018 when at the apex of the multi-course meal they produced a Rioja Crianza when a reserva would, I thought, have been more appropriate. No such problem here, the Olive Tree gave us a gran reserve. Oaky and tannic enough to deal with the pigeon, and yet with ample fruit on the velvety finish. Excellent.

Course 5: Islands chocolate, yoghurt sorbet, perilla, Manni Olive oil.

At the base was a disc of Islands chocolate. Islands is a London chocolatier and the disc was 75% cocoa solids. Very rich chocolate-based dishes can be overwhelming and Lynne felt a little over-chocolated here. I liked the disc, with its tempered shell and different textures inside but it needed the yoghurt sorbet with its chill and acidity to provide balance. Perilla is a family of east Asian plants, some with culinary uses and with a flavour halfway between basil and mint (perhaps with a little liquorice). I am unsure about the contribution of the small slick of high-quality olive oil.

Islands Chocolate with yoghurt sorbet

Matched wine: Bodegas Hidalgo Alameda Cream Jerez

Raisins, nuts and intense sweetness. Wonderful stuff – in small quantities.

Course 6: Cheddar Valley Strawberries, coconut, Szechuan, basil

Maybe I had enjoyed too much wine, but for a moment I expected the strawberries to be cheesy. In fact, they were fine strawberries at the peak of their ripeness and completely fromage-free. The duvet of coconut (and it could have been coconuttier for my taste) was studded with marsh mallows. We were promised Szechuan grains, but the lip tingling sensation of Szechuan pepper never came. It was a very pleasant final dish, but a little tame.

Strawberries

Matched wine: 2018 Gusborne Rosé, Kent

I have been slow to recognise the quality of English sparkling wines but realised some months ago that Kent sparklers could be exceptional. This was our first Kent rosé sparkler. ‘Strawberries’ we said simultaneously after the first sip. To quote the growers, the palate shows bright red fruits, driven by ripe strawberries, fresh cherries and redcurrants, with a crisp freshness and creamy, rounded texture on the finish. That about covers it.

Our anniversary dinner ended with a chocolatey message.

Chocolate-y message

It had been a long dinner of great variety and technical skill, impeccably served. The Granny Smith granita melting into the fennel, the sweetbread and the pigeon breast had stood out. The monkfish was less successful, but I would have been disappointed if there was nothing to quibble about. The wine flight was the best chosen and highest quality of any we have encountered. In some places the quality has failed to match the hefty price, but not here.

27-July-2022

Breakfast

What does a breakfast look like when prepared in a Michelin starred kitchen? It is a fair question and the answer is that there are choices, but for many it looks much like breakfast in any B&B, even down to the brown sauce. It is, perhaps, a little more carefully arranged on the plate and it will never look greasy, but otherwise…

Breakfast

What sets this apart from all but the best B&Bs is the quality of the ingredients. The bacon and sausage does not leave a watery deposit when grilled, the mushroom has not just been sprung from a catering pack. The provenance of all the components is known, almost to the field.

Bath

Before departing we took a short walk. As I said at the start, I have a dedicated Bath post from 2013, but I could not ignore our surroundings completely.

The Circus

Designed by John Woods (the Elder) in 1750 and finished a decade later by his son, John Woods (the Younger) the Circus is a design in elegant living. That it produces the same road lay-out as would later be co-opted by the relentlessly functional roundabout is an irony. A circle of houses is difficult to photograph, as I noticed last time I was here.

The Circus, Bath

Many of the surrounding roads are, in their own way, perfect, but sometimes it feels as though in Bath it is easier to buy a work of art than a scrubbing bush.

Another perfect Bath Street

The Royal Crescent

Perfectest of all is JW the Younger’s Royal Crescent.

The Royal Crescent, Bath

In the centre is the Royal Crescent Hotel. I thought the signage at the Queensberry was restrained, here it is so restrained as to be absent.

The door to the Royal Crescent Hotel (middle of picture)

Though the cars parked nearby give it away.

I could afford the Honda!

I like the way the BMW seems to stand deferentially behind the Bentley and Rolls Royce, while the cheerful little Honda poses confidently at the front.

A basic room at the Royal Crescent costs over 50% more than at the Queensberry, but their six-course tasting menu is a little cheaper – because they do not have a Michelin starred chef.

The final picture of Bath (for this visit)

Enough petty points scoring, we will leave Bath with the pretty picture above.

'Fine Dining' posts

Abergavenny and the Walnut Tree (2010)
Ludlow and La Bécasse (2011) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn)
Ilkley and The Box Tree(2012)
Pateley Bridge and the Yorke Arms (2013) (No longer a restaurant, post renamed Parceval Gardens and Pateley Br)
The Harrow at Little Bedwyn (2014)
The Slaughters and the Lords of the Manor (2015)
Loam, Fine Dining in Galway (2016)
Penarth and Restaurant James Sommerin (2017) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn. JS has a new restaurant in Penarth)
The Checkers, Montgomery (2017) (no longer a restaurant, post withdrawn. Now re-opened under new management)
Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo, Denbighshire (2018)
Fischer's at Baslow Hall, Derbyshire (2019)
Hambleton Hall, Rutland (2021)
The Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath (2022)
Dinner at Pensons near Tenbury Wells (2023) (restaurant closed Dec 2023, post withdrawn)

Friday 22 July 2022

Stirling: Scotland '22 Part 7

The Brooch that Clasps the Highlands and Lowlands Together

21-July-2022

Findochty to Stirling

Scotland
Moray
There was no rush in the morning, so when we were good and ready, we left Findochty and set out on our 170 mile journey south to Stirling. A cross-country trip would take us to the A9, not the fastest of trunk roads, and some 3½ hours later, according to Google would deliver us to our destination. But we have been up and down the A9 several times, so instead of tapping ‘recommended route,' I tapped ‘alternative route.’

We travelled from Findochty on the Moray Coast to Stirling
The Cairngorms is the large green splodge lying right in the way

The alternative route via Braemar is 16 miles shorter, but goes straight(ish) through the Cairngorms National Park, not round it like the A9. Google thinks it takes half an hour longer – rather over-estimating the speed a sane person drives on twisting, narrow (sometimes ‘single-track,’) roads.

The Cairngorms contain all the highest mountains of the British Isles, except Ben Nevis, at 1,345m (4,413ft), the highest of them all, which is something of an outlier. Perhaps oddly there was little mountainous to see from the road.

Into the Cairngorms

All the land north and west of the Great Glen, the geological fault running NE across Scotland from Fort William to Inverness, is in the Highland Council District. This is neat, tidy and has a natural boundary, but the Highland District bulges across the Great Glen to include part of the Cairngorms National Park, largely the part with the mountains. I suppose it would be odd if most of Scotland’s highest peaks were not in the Highlands, but to my tidy little mathematical mind, it feels unsatisfactory.

Perhaps that's a mountain down there.
Not all the roads in the Cairngorms are twisty

Braemar


Aberdeenshire
There was no sign suggesting our route ever entered the Highlands, and when we descended south of the main massif into Braemar, we were definitely in Aberdeenshire.

Braemar, nestled in the hills beside the River Dee, is a remarkably pretty village, in the way most Scottish villages aren’t. Obviously affluent, and with the buildings and streets cheerfully bedecked with flowers, Braemar is 10 miles from Balmoral Castle, the summer home of the queen.

Lunchtime had arrived, so we stopped for a cup of tea and a sandwich at the café in the rather splendid Duke of Rothesay Pavilion in the Highland Games Centre. Then we went to look at the stadium.

Braemar Highland Games Centre. If I had told them I was coming, there might have been a crowd

Highland Gatherings (or Games) claim to be descended from events held in the reign of Malcolm Canmore (r1058-93) but are largely a 19th century invention and the wearing of kilts and tartans a reaction to their being banned a couple of centuries previously after the Jacobite Rebellion (1745).

Wikipedia gives the impression that Highland Gatherings were now largely an American occupation. Not so, there are 24 major games held in Scotland every year during spring and summer. There are competitions in running, ‘heavy events’ like throwing weights for distance or height and tossing the caber, as well as cultural events like Highland Dancing and playing the bagpipes (is that really cultural?).

Braemar is not the biggest event, but it is the one attended every year by the Queen. [Update: though sadly not in 2022. The Queen was unwell and died, aged 96, some five days after the games were held.] I am not a natural royalist, but it is hard not to admire someone who took an oath to do something in 1952, and kept on doing it – and rarely putting a foot wrong – until 2022.

We thought we had left the Cairngorms, but discovered they continue some way further south of Braemar…

More of the Cairngorms

…after which the sat nav sent us through a labyrinth of minor roads, before eventually decanting us onto the A9 near Perth and thence to Stirling.

Stirling

Stirling C A

Stirling Council Area, one of Scotland’s 32 administrative districts, is a rough rectangle bounded by the Firth of Forth and Loch Lomond. The north and west is sparsely populated highland, the south and east is flat agricultural land – the flood plain of the River Forth. The 93,000 inhabitants mostly live in and around the city of Stirling in the south east corner.

Stirling Council Area

Crossing the plain towards Stirling, the rocky outcrop, topped by the castle, becomes increasingly prominent. Leaving the motorway, the signed route into the city centre surprisingly climbs the back of the outcrop, passes the castle and then funnels new arrivals down St John Street. Like most Scottish towns and cities, Stirling, is built of dour, dark grey stone. Without the hanging baskets of Braemar, or the least hint of sunshine, it is not a welcoming sight.

Stirling

Conveniently, we passed The Golden Lion, our base for the next two nights – at least it would have been convenient had we not missed it on the first pass.

The Golden Lion, Stirling

Inside, the hotel’s décor and furnishings (not really my subjects) seemed stuck in the 1980s, but the staff were pleasant and efficient. The bar staff provided me with what I needed after a long drive,...

The Golden Lion, Stirling

... the restaurant staff were cheerful and efficient and later, when we had a small plumbing problem, the receptionists, listened, smilingly promised to get it fixed, and did so. The restaurant menu also had a 1980s vibe, though somebody was tuned into the zeitgeist, the lump of haggis accompanying my chicken breast was described as a ‘bonbon’.

22-July-2022

We arranged our Stirling visits for geographical convenience, for blogging I have rearranged them in a more historical and narrative-friendly order.

A castle has stood on Stirling’s rocky crop possibly since Roman times, certainly from before 1110. It encompasses so much of Stirling’s history that I will come to it at the end.

Stirling Old Bridge

Stirling’s importance does not just come from a rocky outcrop, for centuries it was the lowest crossing point on the River Forth. (For lower modern crossings see Edinburgh (2) ).

Stirling Old Bridge

Stirling Old Bridge is a 4-arch stone bridge on a foundation of rubble sitting on a meander north of the old town. It is 82m long and was built around 1500. A new road bridge was built nearby in 1833 and the Old Bridge was closed to wheeled vehicles – there is now an exemption for bicycles which did not exist in 1833.

The Battle of Stirling Bridge

A Little History


Alexander III, St Giles, Edinburgh
photo: Kim Traynor
When King Alexander III died in 1286 his heir was his granddaughter, Margaret, Maid of Norway (Alexander had married his daughter to King Eric III of Norway). Margaret was 3 years old and the ‘Guardians of Scotland,’ a group of senior nobles and churchmen was set up to manage the situation. Margaret set off for her new kingdom in 1290, but died en route.

The several claimants to the throne brought Scotland to the brink of civil war, so the Guardians invited Edward I of England to adjudicate. Edward was already involved, his late sister had been Alexander III’s wife and his son, the future Edward II had been betrothed to young Margaret. He was also a top-grade medieval war lord, and so took the opportunity to increase his personal fiefdom. In 1290, after inserting his own men into positions of power as a condition for making the decision, he selected John Balliol, judging him the most easily controllable.

John Balliol
Forman Armorial, 1562
In the 1980s, comedian Ben Elton referred to one of Margaret Thatcher’s less stellar cabinet appointments as a ‘suit full of bugger-all.’ The Scots had the same idea 700 years earlier, calling King John ‘Toom Tabard’ (empty coat).

Edward tired of his incompetence and deposed him in 1296. A rebellion against Edward I’s appointees followed and William Wallace, previously an obscure minor noble from Strathclyde and Andrew Moray became the leaders. Edward I was busy in France so he sent the Earl of Surrey, and Hugh de Cressingham to sort it out. Their army met that of Wallace and Moray at Stirling Bridge



The Battle

Wallace’s 6,000 men occupied the flat, soft ground north of the river with Surrey’s 9,000 on the south. Sir Richard Lundie, one of the Scots fighting for Surrey (few of these battles were as simply Scots v English as some like to think) offered to lead 60 knights to a crossing place and outflank Wallace. Surrey declined and opted for frontal assault and sent his cavalry across the bridge onto the soft ground. Maybe they charged, but wooden bridge was narrow and the ground boggy.

A cavalry charge across here looks a bad idea, and the 'old  Old Bridge' was 200 years earlier

Wallace watched the cavalry flounder, then watched the infantry follow and at the right moment closed the circle about them and started hewing them down. Reinforcements could not get through and Surry’s men still south of the bridge watched helplessly. They were not trained professional soldiers, there were none in those days, they were just peasants following their lord into battle; they would do some killing and pick up some booty, but they had no intention of hanging around waiting to die, so they left. Battle over.

This was not a battle near a bridge, the bridge was essential to the battle. 'Braveheart', a film I shall mention again later, managed to film their Battle of Stirling Bridge without a bridge - and that was not the worst error.

The Wallace Memorial

The Wallace Monument

The Wallace Monument is an ugly 67m tower on Abbey Craig overlooking the battlefield. It was built by public subscription, fundraising began in 1851 and the foundation stone was laid by the Duke of Atholl in 1861. It was completed in 1869.

The Wallace Memorial on Abbey Craig

Inside there are three exhibition rooms and 265 steps to the viewpoint.  We had a light lunch in the café in the woods below, but did not bother to go in.

Although Wallace was a member of the minor nobility nothing is known of his youth - even his father’s name is disputed.

William Wallace, Edinburgh
Photo Kim Traynor
In July 1297 he was involved in the killing of William Heselrig, probably part of a co-ordinated uprising against Edward I’s appointees. Wallace emerged as one of the leaders of this uprising, and won the easy victory at Stirling Bridge in November 1297 as described above. He then had some knightly fun raiding across Northumberland and Cumbria – though the villagers whose dwellings were burnt may have seem it a differently.

The next summer Edward I came north himself and defeated Wallace at Falkirk in July. Wallace left for the continent but made the mistake of returning a few years later. He was hunted down and executed in 1305.

Wallace achieved far more in legend than in real life. The sources for the legend are a poem called The Wallace by ‘Blind Harry’ written about 1477 and the anachronistic ramblings of Mel Gibson’s Braveheart.

The Battle of Bannockburn

On this trip we have visited arguably the two most important battlefields in Scotland, Culloden (1745) a week ago and today Bannockburn (1314), just south of Stirling.

A Little More History

After seeing off Wallace, Edward I went away to deal with more important matters. He returned and campaigned in 1304, leaving convinced he had added Scotland to a portfolio that already included Gascony (among other parts of France), England, Ireland and Wales.

However, two claimants to the Scottish throne still survived, John Comyn, Lord of Badenoch, and Robert the Bruce, Lord of Annandale. In 1306 they met to discuss their differences in the chapel of Greyfriars in Dumfries (we visited 2023). Robert the Bruce won the argument by stabbing Comyn to death, thus becoming King Robert I of Scotland. He then captured a few castles.

Robert the Bruce as he may have looked at Bannockburn
Pilkington Jackson, 1964

Edward was now over 60, an old man for the time, so he stayed home and sent an army to sort out the problem. Bruce was defeated at the Battle of Methven and went into hiding. Edward’s army recaptured some castles and came home.

Bruce renewed his activities in 1307, so Edward decided to deal with him himself. He marched north, but developed dysentery and died in Burgh by Sands just south of the Scottish border.

He was succeeded by his son, Edward II. Unlike his father Edward II was a reluctant warrior and only felt the need to act in 1314 when Bruce besieged Stirling Castle.

The Battle

Edward rushed towards Stirling arriving on the 23rd of June 1314, with a large army (20-25,000) of tired men. How anybody arrived anywhere with the maps available at the time is a mystery to me.

A contemporary map of Great Britain, Bannockburn visitor centre

Bruce, with only 5-8,000 men, was headquartered where the Memorial now stands.

The Bannockburn Memorial

Edward's men were across the battlefield to the south.

The Bannockburn Battlefield - not a very interesting picture!

On the 23rd an English flanking manoeuvre with 300 men resulted in a skirmish where an undisciplined and over-confident charge preceded a rout.

Edward’s tired and now dispirited men spent an uncomfortable night in a boggy field beside the Bannockburn.

The next morning Edward brought his men across the burn, but they were still on boggy land. A deserter had informed Robert that English morale was low and advised him to attack. He marched his men forward.

The sudden arrival of well drilled schiltrons of pikemen further unnerved Edaward’s army. With their knights pinned in boggy ground between the schiltrons and the burn, and the support of their archers doing more damaged to their own men than the enemy, the battle was soon over. Edward II scuttled south leaving Robert I unchallenged King of Scotland.

Edward II was neither a warrior nor a leader of men. In 1327 he was deposed by his own mother and her lover Roger Mortimer and murdered shortly afterwards. His son, Edward III turned out to be better suited to the job.

Stirling Castle

No one knows who first claimed the rocky outcrop now surmounted by Stirling Castle, but it is such an obvious defensive point it must have attracted peoples now long-forgotten whose names were never written down.

From the plain the current buildings still look forbidding - Stirling Castle represented Colditz Castle in the opening shots of the 1970s TV series – but the outcrop is of the ‘crag and tail’ variety. The older parts of the city spread down the tail and as we walked up the main street the city would have merged into the castle were there not a gate and a young woman checking tickets.

Most surviving structures are from the 15th and 16th centuries. Some are a little older, others younger and the ‘outer defences’ beyond the town gate, are 18th century and now enclose a garden showing how the castle eventually morphed into a palace.

Inside the Outer Defences, Stirling Castle

To the southwest is the Kings Knot, a 12th century park once used for jousting, hawking and hunting. In the 1490s, James IV planted fruit trees, flowers and ornamental hedges, and the earthwork was constructed for the Scottish coronation of Charles I’s in 1633. Stirling Heritage Trust say the most impressive view of the castle is from this earthwork.

The King's Knott by Stirling Castle

The castle’s first appearance in written record was surprisingly late when King Alexander I dedicated a chapel here in 1110. Stirling became a Royal Burgh and an administrative centre in the reign of Alexander’s successor (and brother) David I (r1124-53).

Being situated at almost the narrowest part of Scotland with the Highlands to the north and the Lowlands to the south, Stirling’s strategic importance led to the saying, ‘he who holds Stirling holds Scotland.’ The Castle has thus been besieged seven times, most frequently during the wars with Edward I of England, and most recently by Charle Edward Stuart in 1745 during his abortive attempt to regain the crown for the Stuarts.

Through a gate…

Into the Inner Ward, Stirling Castle

…we entered an older section of the castle, though more Stuart than medieval.

In the inner ward, Stirling Castle

Inside there was a minstrel to pluck a tune on his lute to accompany our visit.

Minstrel, Stirling Castle

We admired the tapestries…

Tapestries, Stirling Castle

…. and the queen’s bedchamber. She did not sleep here, she had a smaller, more personal room behind, this one was just for show.

Queens Bedchamber, Stirling Castle

The Stirling Heads – 16th century medallions, a metre in diameter, with carvings of kings, queens, nobles, Roman emperors, biblical figures and characters from classical mythology - decorated the palace ceilings until a collapse in 1777.

One of the Stirling Heads

Back outside we approached the North Gate, in part dating from the 1380s making it the oldest structure in the castle.

The North Gate, Stirling Castle

And so our castle visit came to an end.

The Maharajah

Like many Scottish towns Stirling has many restaurants opening 10.00 to 5.00 pm for coffee, lunch and tea, but surprisingly few offer dinner. Eating out on a Friday night requires booking, and doing so earlier than we did.

However, we had exhausted the delights of the hotel menu, and The Maharajah may have maintained a low profile on the internet and local guides, but it was just across the road. Small Indian restaurants are very variable and we had no local knowledge, but we decided to chance our luck. And lucky we were, The Maharajah fed us well, so now we have local knowledge I can advise travellers searching for an evening meal in Stirling to visit the Maharajah.

The Maharajah, Stirling

I was not surprised by the number of cyclists coming in carrying the distinctive boxes of Deliveroo and its competitors, they soon loaded up and peddled off, but what surprised me was that most were not youngsters but men in their 50s or 60s’

The End

So our 2022 Scottish sojourn ended with our best meal out since our first night in Glasgow. The next day we made the long drive home.