I'm Bruce Fummey. When it comes to Highland clearances, the thing that strikes me is that
the man most vilified today is the Marquis of Stafford. Already one of the wealthiest
men in England, his marriage gained him vast swathes of the north of Scotland, from which
he banished huge numbers of locals across an ocean, was rewarded with the title, Duke of
Sutherland, and whose wife had him immortalized in a 30 meter statue at the top of Ben Bhraggie,
so that even in death, he could tower aloof, over the people of Sutherland, as he had done in life,
but today I want to take you a little deeper into the story, and reveal some of the other characters
who didn't stand quite so distant and aloof, but eagerly got their avaricious hands dirty. If you're
interested in the people, places and events in Scottish history, then click the subscribe
button at the bottom right hand side of the screen, in the meantime, let me tell you a story.
Here in Sutherland, there are coastal shorelines, where the North Sea sucks water through the
squiggly straws of the burns (streams), rivers and Highland straths (valleys); Brora, Kildonan, Naver. I'm going to take
you up one of those beautiful fertile Highland straths, where in the early 19th Century
people reared cattle as they had done for generations. Despite occasional bad years of
harvest and hunger, they generally had surplus to export elsewhere. Life was hard but rustic,
those inland valleys were certainly preferable to living along the Sutherland coast, where rocky
crags clung desperately to a thin layer of soil, playing a constant tug of war with North Sea winds,
and not always winning, but the harsh tranquillity of Sutherland life was about to meet the malign
benevolence of improvement. In May 1809, a boat arrived in Dunrobin Bay, which shares its name
with this castle, the home to Earl and Lady Stafford when they were in Scotland.
In that boat were two men called William Young, and Patrick Sellar. Their plan was to set up a
ferry service from here, across to Burghead in Moray, and to tap the Staffords for
some capital to set up this business bringing increased trade, from which they would benefit,
but when Young and Sellar got here, they realised that for them, there was an opportunity far greater;
Carpetbaggers in the southern states. White men in West Africa, asset stripping venture capitalists in ...
name your location. William Young and Patrick Sellar, they smelled cash.
There was a mismatch between this world and theirs, and they were just the men to exploit it.
This is Strath Kildonan. When William Young reconnoitred it, he reckoned
there were 1200 to 1500 people, with countless more cattle living in the various straths and glens.
All of them would have to go, and so one of the wealthiest men in Britain was presented with a
series of proposals by Young and Sellar to show how he could become even more wealthy. Ironically
they weren't even sheepish about it. It meant that the less wealthy would have to be evicted.
They wouldn't be allowed to bid to rent the land that they already farmed. They could be moved to
those rocky coasts and given a couple of acres. Yes, they'd have to sell their cattle, and yes, they'd
have to give up their homes and transport their furniture along non-existent roads, but they could
learn to become fishermen. Why farm the tranquil, fertile Strath of Kildonan, when you can brave
the North Sea? They could go off and become coal miners, whisky makers, factory workers. A few might
even stay in the area, but instead of working their own land they would work as wage labourers on the
large sheep farms that Young and Sellar would set up. The first victim wasn't one of these crofters
but the Sutherland estate's previous Factor, who was promptly sacked and replaced by Young and Sellar.
Now the previous Factor had already tentatively toed the improvement sheep dip, which had left the
locals with a bad taste in their mouth. A couple years before, two large farms had
been rented out to shepherds from Northumbria, in the north of England, one here at Suisgill.
So when on the 5th of January, 1813 three men came up the strath surveying a new sheep run, the locals
were alarmed. The men were Major William Clunes, retired from the British Army, he'd been wounded
in several campaigns, before influence by the Countess at Dunrobin Castle, had persuaded his
superiors to release him, to take up his father's tenancy on the coast, before the old man passed.
As part of the new broom sweeping through the Sutherland straths, he'd been offered more land
to farm sheep just to the east of us, and with Major Clunes came Ralph Reed, the younger brother
of one of those earlier shepherds, and another man, James Hall. Of course daylight hours in Sutherland
in January were too short to carry out the whole survey, and so Major Clunes, Reed and
Hall bid each other a good night, and arranged to meet again on the morrow. A local would have said
Chi mi thu a’ marraich ann’s a mhatain. Languages as incomprehensible to each other as their mindset.
The two men headed here to lodge at the large sheep farm already established at Suisgill.
Major William Clunes came to receive hospitality from the Minister of the Parish Church here, here
in the local manse, not only the biggest house in the area, but the only house for miles around with a
slate roof. He'd hardly settled his horse and got his backside in a chair, when there was a knock
at the door. Who can be calling at the manse at this hour on a winter's night? Now you might expect, if
the door knocked unexpected like that, that when you went to the door there would be three wee
monkeys; one with a trumpet, one with a drum and one with a pancake stuck to its bum,
or is that a Perthshire thing? Tell me in the description below right, no in the comments
section right. Do you recognize that rhyme? Are there regional variations and differences? Anyway
January was too early in the year for pancakes. It was in fact four men and a woman from the strath
to ask Clunes what he'd been up to that day with these English folk? Did he plan to take on the land?
Had he already made such an arrangement? What were his intentions? They couldn't see his father, who'd
been well respected in the area behaving like this. They appealed to his better nature, but in case
of any doubt, left with a warning that if sheep were put on the land there would be blood,
and don't think your musical monkeys are going to protect you either!
Is that a pancake? The next morning when Clunes left the manse to set out on his horse, he found
himself out here, down here surrounded by 50 men all armed with sticks. The spokesperson
who tried to reason with Major Clunes, was one of the elders of the local kirk, described by the
Minister as, the most attractive Christian character, but whether or not Major Clunes
was planning to continue his survey, things were already being decided for him, because meanwhile ...
back here a few miles up the road at Suisgill Farm, at the junction of River Helmsdale, and the
Suisgill Burn that runs into it, a young laddie called Donald Gunn, had come to the door of the
farmhouse before breakfast time. He said that he was searching for a horse that had gone missing,
and had they seen it but he also made sure to find out whether Reed and Hall were still
in the house, and having asked his questions, he didn't set off looking for his lost horse
he went down to the land by the stream here and started playing shinty with his pals.
You see during the night, people had gone all around the strath warning that the shepherds were
here. Now one local woman, Jean Murray, who ran the local sibin (pub), on the other side of the burn, sneaked
into the farmhouse under some pretext to warn the two shepherds to high tail it out of there, but not
to mention that the warning had come from her. Now the fact we know her name suggests she wasn't the
only grass in the village. Reed and Hall rushed a horse and instead of turning east and going
back down towards the coast, they hightailed it, being chased up by 50 to 60 men in this direction,
and they didn't stop until they got to Caithness. Having missed their prey, the locals headed for the farmhouse.
Some of the group that had accosted Major Clunes down the strath earlier, they were also arriving
by the stage. The English speaking outsiders left in the farmhouse were terrified for their lives,
but eventually, the 100 or so raging farmers were calmed by a spokesman. Translations were made and
one shepherd was ordered out of Sutherland, never to return, whilst those remaining were dispersed
elsewhere away from the farm for safety. For what happened next let me take you back to Golspie
Now I should say that if you want more details on these events, then you'll be able to get them
in the fantastic book called 'Set Adrift Upon the World' link in the description below obviously, but
it seemed that previously enthusiastic sheep farmers weren't quite so enthusiastic.
Major William Clunes, a veteran of several British Army campaigns, made excuses to Young
and Sellar that he couldn't move forward in the tenancy of this new sheep farm at present, because
he was suddenly confined to bed with a fever, possibly brought on by eating a dodgy pancake.
If I said chocolate covered would that ... you're right, you're right okay.
Reed took to staying in Dunrobin Castle, and suggested that Young and Sellar,
and their bosses, the Marquis and Countess, might need to look for another tenant,
but that wasn't the end of things. This is Golspie Inn. Now today in April 2021 it's been recently taken
over and renovated by a mate of mine, well he's in the middle of upgrades and renovations right now,
to get ready for post-Covid opening. Back in 1813 it was called the Sutherland Arms.
Now if you're ever up this way, I suggest that you pop in for a drink, a meal or an overnight
stay, because this historical location is where events culminated. To find out what happened, you'll
need to check out this channel or this link here at any time after the 3rd of April 2021.
I'll see in that video. In the meantime, tha mi an dochas gum bith lath math leibh. Tiorridh an drasda.