Rhymes and Rivalries: Water, Place Prejudice, Death

Not all Angus folk were regarded as equal in the halcyon days of long ago.  Previous entries have shown that ‘Angus bodies’ (as inhabitants of God’s own county were once known) frequently regarded their near parish neighbours as untrustworthy, suspicious, or just downright different.  At one time apparently the lowland inhabitants of Strathmore and the Mearns looked upon the inhabitants of the northern glens with undisguised mistrust. There was once a common slur in Angus and the Mearns which ran:

                                      We may ken ye’re a Glenesk man            
                                      by your scraggy face.

 There was story about a man from the glen who wandered into an eating establishment in Stonehaven.  During his dinner he looked up and thought he saw a neighbour from the glen sitting opposite.  He immediately shouted out the jibe about the scraggy face then everyone in the dining room suddenly stared at him.  What he had actually encountered for the first time in his life was a mirror, hung on the wall opposite him!

   Some of the old rhymes of Angus have lost their meaning because the things they speak of have altered forever or in some instances they refer to places which have also changed their names. Sailors were once guided back to the Angus shore by the sight of Barry in the distance, known centuries ago as Fothmuref, which locals corrupted into Fettermore:

                                         The braes o’Fettermore
                                         has been a gude ship’s shore.

     In olden times too the provision of clean water and the disposal of waste effluent was a difficulty for people, especially in larger towns before the provision of proper sewerage or piped water from purpose built reservoirs.  The hazard of couped oot urine and worse from upstairs windows from chanties or bed pans must have been common, and even the supposedly warning shout of ‘Gardyloo!’ might not have always prevented a stinky soaking.

Gardyloo!

   Before Dundee got most of its drinking water from the purpose built reservoir at Monikie, the townsfolk had to rely on the various wells around the burgh; among the most trusted was the Lady Well at the foot of the Hilltown.  There may have been a common belief that that springs named after saints were somehow assured of being pure and safe to consume.  But enterprising Dundonians began to draw water on a commercial basis from various sources and there grew up competition between rivals, which each claiming that their water was the best.  The major players in the Dundee water war were those who exploited sources at Logie and Invergowrie. Each firm drove barrels of their water through the streets and shouted out the benefits of their product.  One would bellow:

                                  Invergowrie’s crystal spring
                                  for Tea surpasses everything!

    Their Logie rivals would retort with this doggerel:

                                  Of a’ the wells that’s here aboot
                                  there’s nane compar’d  to Logie Spoot!

   Those were the days of unsophisticated marketing techniques!

   Other things that have vanished from certain districts over the years are certain families which may have resided there for umpteen generations.  In the parish of Stracathro there was a notable interconnected branch of the Martin family who occupied a large cluster of neighbourhood farms and outsiders were warned that they should be careful what should say to one farmer about another because they were all inter-related:

                                     Crawhill an’ Ba’hill,
                                     Rochie an’ the Greens –
                                     a’ thae three are friens.

   It was a proud and honourable boast among some kindreds that they had farmed the same soil for centuries.  The Spences of Balgavies, Aberlemno, were one such, proud of their longevity in the region, as attested to by an inscription on a tombstone dated in 1756, erected by John Spence in memory of his father and mother:

                                     Here ly’s an honest old race,
                                     Who in Ballgavies land had a place
                                     Of residence, as may be seen,
                                     Full years three hundred and eighteen.

   The Spences occupied their farm from the year 1438, and it was passed down from father to son until the year, 1820, after which some of the family removed themselves to Broughty Ferry (and may have been related to the writer Lewis Spence).

   Another boast sometimes found on local tombstones is extreme longevity, sometimes coupled with allegations of extreme fruitfulness.  Gilbert Mille died in Newtyle in 1675 and was said to have fathered twenty-six children by two wives.  Despite all this effort in procreation he still managed to reach the grand age of 100.  The inscription on his grave also contains an acrostic forming the patriarch’s name:
             

                                     Great is the wonders God hath Worked
                                     In Heaven, and Earth, and Sia;
                                     Lykuays he many mercies hath,
                                     BeStoued Wpon Me.
                                     Euen in this World, an Hundred Years,
                                     Remain’d I honestlie;
                                     Tuo Weded Wives the tym I had;
                                     Much Comfort was to Me.
                                     In Wedlocks Band ue Procreat
                                     Lauffully Ws Betuix;
                                     Loues Pledges, Whos Right number wer
                                     Euen tuo tymes ten and Six.

                                              My Spritt to God, I do commit,
                                              My Body to the Graue;
                                              When Christ shall com and jidg shall sitt,
                                              Shall them Both Recauie.

      Epitaphs often provided an outlet for unsung poetic endeavour in long past communities.  The oldest recorded gravestone in the kirkyard of Kirkden has this simple but satisfying inscription:

                             Heir lyis ROBERT DVTHIE, hvsband to
                                   Evphane Gvdlet, somtyme in Balmadie, who died
                                   In Descm 1667, and of his age the 47:
                                             I rest in hope
                                            And shal Aryse
                                            To reigne with Christ
                                            †Above the Skyes.

   The profession of the Scotts at Balmossie, Monifieth, was waulking, or fulling cloth, hence the punning inscription on one of the family’s tombs (now lost):

                                  On earth I waulked for many years,
                                  But here I now do sleep;
                                  Where I shall waulk when I away,
                                  To you’s a mystery deep.

   This last rhyme takes us back even further in time and is alleged to have been made by no less that King James IV, when the lands of Keillor, near Auchtertyre, were granted by him to the guidwives of the Haddon family who had entertained him.  It takes the form of a reddendo, conditions of tenure for the land grant which were, in this case, rather unusual.  The family would have had difficulty supplying a rose at Christmas or a snowball at Lammas (August first).  James IV was unaccountably fonder of wandering about the neighbouring county of Fife, otherwise we would have had more rhymes like this one:

                                  Ye Haddons o’ the Moor,
                                  ye pay nocht
                                  but a hairen tether –
                                  if it’s socht,
                                  a red rose at Yule
                                  and a sna ba at Lammas.

Keillor Pictish symbol stone, Kettins parish (now in Perthshire, but historically part of Angus).

Fisher Folk(lore)

The coastal communities of Angus, as in other places, long had their own customs, beliefs and superstitions, some of which were widespread among fisher communities and others which were peculiarly local.  In 1790 the minister of Arbirlot wrote that, ‘The sea-gulls are considered ominous.  When they appear in the fields, a storm from the south-east generally follows; and when the storm begins to abate, they fly back to the shore.’  But in neighbouring Arbroath the gulls were considered harmless and were called Swankie’s Doos.  The surname Swankie was common in the town and the nickname may originate in some long-forgotten jibe about one of the family.  Another theory states that the saying is linked particularly to one Betsy Swankie, a larger-than-life character in the Fit o’ The Toon at Arbroath.  This lady was prominent in the fish merchant firm of Swankie & Smith in the 1920s.  Her influence was so powerful that it was rumoured the seagulls were in her employment, hence the nickname – perhaps. (Another bird with an odd nom-de-plumage (!) was the stormy petrel, known in Angus and indeed elsewhere as Mother Carey’s Chicken, a baffling nickname which originated in the 18th century.)

  The puzzling fear of pigs among seafarers was widespread in northern Scotland and certainly common among Angus sea-folk.  Arbroath and Auchmithie crews would turn back home if some evil person placed a piece of pork on their vessel (as reported by J. M. McBain in Arbroath, Past and Present (1887)):  ‘those on board would return to land without shooting their nets rather than proceed with their fishing with the hated junk aboard.’

   Another ‘ill-fitted’ creature was the humble pigeon.  Andrew Douglas, a 19th century schoolteacher at Ferryden, was told by a returning boat crew that they had not shot their lines that day because a pigeon had landed on their boat.  Douglas scoffed at their credulity, but a crew member addressed him angrily:  ‘It’s easy for you to speak there; but, had we no’ turned in time, ye’d ne’er seen halt nor hair o’ our boat’s lines; we’d been i’ the boddom o’ the sea...’  The exhausted pigeon had landed on the mast after being chased by a hawk.  One of the men attempted to dash its brains out in his presence, but the bird flew off.  One of the crew, splendidly nicknamed Jimacks called after it, ‘Ye unearthly creature, may ye get better rest, and ne’er be see there agin, fearin’ fowk to death afore their time...This fleg’ll no be frae my heart tis twalmonth...Gudekeeps a’ frae seein’ unearthly sights – they’re nae couthie.’  Another strongly held belief in Ferryden was that no boat must go out fishing on Christmas Day.  One boat had done so on one occasion and it caught only one haddock – and that fish had no eyes.  If there was a theft in the community the older residents could divine the guilty party by opening the Bible at random and placing some keys in different directions upon it.  The letters of the words the keys pointed to were compared with the initials of villagers, and if they matched they pronounced guilty.  The custom was still prevalent when Douglas was writing, in 1855 (when he published his book, The History of the Village of Ferryden).

   Although many of the community were illiterate in the 1820s when Douglas became the schoolteacher, both education and religious gradually civilise the village to the extent that it became a fervent hotspot for the Free Church in the 1850s. But the extraordinary religious revival in Ferryden which came to a peak at the end of that decade was described by more urbane (and urban) observers as a 'vortex of mad excitement' and 'the result of mental derangement', in other words merely a more respectable continuation of fisher-folks' inbred inferior superstition. The temperance movement also all but eradicated the once rampant drunkenness and put out of business most of the six dram sops which once operated in the village.   But the economics of those who were reliant on the selling of fish, in particular the cadgers who carried the catch inland and sold it, necessitated a manner of life which did not accord with Victorian civility.  ‘I am no admirer of the cadger profession,’ Douglas wrote.  ‘A more undeserving class are not to be met with; and the filth, squalor, savagery, cheating, and lying with which they have become associated in the minds of all, will not be palliated by me.  I have seen much of their cruelty to their poor dumb beasts, and little of their good dispositions to any one, unless their indirect services to the whisky shops be regarded as coming under that head.’
   The historian A. J. Warden, whose 5 volume Angus or Forfarshire appeared in the 1880s, had a poor opinion of the fisher communities in his own county. ‘The population composing these assemblages of fishers,’ Warden considered, were,’...rude and uncouth in their manners.’  And he was at pains to point out that these coastal communities were different not only in their speech but also alien in their customs, for they almost invariably married among themselves.  ‘Indeed so clannish are the fishers of each village that they seldom go even to neighbouring fishing communities for spouses.  It is a common saying among fishers “we’ll keep our ain fish-guts to our ain goo-maws.”  The affect of so much intermarrying is to degenerate the race, and in most of the fishing villages there are generally a proportion of the inhabitants affected with scrofula or other diseases, and several having a weak intellect.’  In common with outside observers from other parts of Scotland, Warden believed that the quaint and distinct manners of these fringe societies could be explained by the supposition that the coastal populations were the descendants of Dutch or Flemish people who had settled in Scotland centuries before.  This theory was also common in other regions and is likely an erroneous explanation of the perceived ‘other-ness’ of the fishing villages.

   In Warden’s opinion the most picturesque fishing village in the county was Auchmithie, near Arbroath.  This was the model for Walter Scott’s village of ‘Mussel-Craig’ in his novel The Antiquary.  Another author enamoured of Auchmithie was James Glass Bertram, who featured the Angus settlement in his book The Harvest of the Sea (1885).  Despite a prevailing Victorian prejudice against fisher folk, Bertram acknowledged the charming politeness of the wee girls when they met incomers visiting them:

...they invariably stoop down, making a very low curtsey, and for this piece of polite condescension they expect that a few halfpence will be thrown to them. If you pass on without noticing them they will not ask for anything, but once throw them a few halfpence and a pocketful will be required to satisfy their importunities.

   Bertram also noted the ingenious manner of smoking fish practised at Auchmithie, which the inhabitants would soon bring to Arbroath and popularise as the now-famous Arbroath Smokie:

Their peculiar way of smoking their haddocks may be taken as a very good example of their other modes of industry. Instead of splitting the fish after cleaning them, as the regular curers do, they smoke them in their round shape. They use a barrel without top or bottom as a substitute for a curing house. The barrel being inserted a little distance in the ground, an old kail-pot or kettle, filled with sawdust, is placed at the bottom, and the inside is then filled with as many fish as can conveniently be hung in it. The sawdust is then set fire to, and a piece of canvas thrown over the top of the barrel: by this means the females of Auchmithie smoke their haddocks in a round state, and very excellent they are when the fish are caught in season.

   But even a casual look through the records will reveal the harsh realities of the fishing life in terms of fishermen lost at sea.  Three brothers, surnamed Spink, were drowned off Red Head, to the north of the village in June 1814, along with a man named Eaton.  Seven years later there was another tragedy, where another three Spink brothers were lost, along with two men from the Cargill family.  Yet another unfortunate Spink lost his life in 1836, along with another four Auchmithie men.  Again, in 1876, there was further loss of life when the Aberdeen steamer ‘Queen’ collided with local fishing boat ‘David and Ann’, killing one fisherman.  Further local men were killed in 1888 and again in 1918.

[Fairly recent works detailing specific coastal communities in Angus - Panbride and Usan - are the fine studies by David G. Angus, as pictured below.  Those who wish to research further afield could root out Peter F. Ansom’s classic Fisher Folk-lore and his other works.]

Well, Well, Well.

Right, you asked for this:  an extensive, but frustratingly un-comprehensive, list of wells which exist or once existed in Angus, with informative notes.  Who could resist?  In fact, nobody asked for this at all, but you’re going to get it anyway.  Some of these astounding springs have been mentioned before and I have helpfully labelled these with an asterisk [thus *].  Names in the list with square brackets denote wells in locations where the specific name of the well is either unknown or unsure, so the location as been used instead.   Apologies in advance for failing to distinguish between healing wells, holy wells and miscellaneous wells.

   Hold on to your hats and we’ll begin, with a hot hundred or thereabouts of the hottest springs:

1. Aberneathan Well, two miles NW of Kiriemuir.  Possibly from the Pictish personal name Nechtan,  either St Nechtan or King Nechtan?
2. Agricola Well.  At Castleton, Eassie, a reputed Roman site; supposed to have been named by locals after the Roman general, but more probably given the name by a local antiquary.
3. [Balmossie Den*], near Broughty Ferry.
4. Barrel Well, Brechin.
5. Batties Well, Haughead, Arbirlot.
6. Battle Well, Battle Drum, Montreathmont Moor, Brechin.
7. Beardie’s Well, Brechin. A well which was on the north side of the Nether Wynd in Brechin, supposedly the property of the Earls of Crawford.  This well was therefore supposed to be linked with Alexander, the 4th Earl of Crawford, one of whose nicknames was Beardie.
8. Bell’s Witter, Clach of Glentaire, Clova.
9. [Benvie*]  Well haunted by the White Lady since plague times.
10. Bra Well, Stracathro.
11. Camperdown or Cammerdown Well, Dunnichen.  This was renamed after  the late 18th century naval encounter won by Duncan of Lundie. It was originally St Causnan’s Well (there was a St Causnan’s Chapel nearby.)  Causnan again is a colloquial form of Constantine.  Local dignitary George Dempster took it upon himself to give the spring its new name following the battle.
12. Camp Well, near the site of supposed Roman site at Campmuir, Kettins.
13. Cardinal’s Well, south of Lownie Hill, near Dunnichen.  Local tradition says it was named after Cardinal Beaton, who favoured this spot.  The cardinal is also associated with many castles in Angus. It was said that the water from the well was conveyed for some special use at Arbroath Abbey.
14. Carlin Well*, Craigton of Airlie.  Now vanished and named after the Cailleach, the Old Hag of Scottish Folklore. Adjacent is Carlinwell Farm.
15. Cartyheugh Well, Kelly Den, St Vigeans.
16. Cattle Well, Lochmill, near Kirriemuir.
17. Chapel Well, near Whitemire, Aberlemno.
18. College Well, St Michael’s Mount, Brechin.
19. Corryvannoch Well*, on the slopes of Mount Keen.  The most famous healing well in Angus where pilgrimages would be made and sick children carried.
20. Craig Well, Lundie.
21. Cuttle Well, the Den, Kirriemuir.  One of the more conspicuous and best loved wells in Angus, it has been damaged in recent times by land slips and is ripe for restoration.

Long gone children play around the Cuttle Well, Kirrie Den.

22. Docken Well, Lintrathen.
23. Dripping Well, Arbroath.
24. Droustie’s Well*, Lochlee, near the home of the Dark Age saint.  Also, more formally known  as St Drostan’s Well.  It was located in a field named ‘Piper’s Shade’ and cured all sorts of diseases.  When some jealous healers poisoned the well some locals stones them to death and buried them in a circle around the spring.
25. Duckladge Well, Lintrathen.
26. Dundas Well, Pitlivie Moor, Arbirlot.
27. God’s Well, Arbirlot.
28. Golan Well, Auchenchapel, Glen Isla.
[Hangie’s Well, Cargill.  This is a  dubious example, cited by Andrew Jervise in Memorials of Angus and the Mearns, in that Cargill is in Perthshire and not Angus(so we won't count it), though Jervise states that it may have been in Angus once.  The well was on the property of a local hangman and, when it was excavated, a large number of human bones were found here.  So good a tale that we forgive the Perthshire-ness of the location.]
29. Hassock Well, North Whitehills, Forfar.
30. Helly Well, near Shelterfield, Arbirlot.
31. Hen Well, east of Finavon Hill.  Note nearby place-name Henwellburn.
32. Hogg’s Well, Fairy Knowe, Dunnichen
33. Holy Well, Balnaboth, Cortachy.  Near ancient church ruins.
34. Holy Well, Broughty Ferry.
35. Hore Well, Lundie.
36. Horse Well, Smithton Hill, Lundie.
37. Iron Harrow Well, south of Hayston Hill, Tealing.
38. Jenkin’s Well, in Balrownie Wood, Menmuir.
39. King’s Well, Carmyllie.
40. King’s Well, Newtyle.
41. [Kirkden Well] renowned for reducing swelling in feet and legs.
42. Knellock Well,  Gallows Hill, Inverarity.
43. Lady Well, Auchterhouse.
44. Lady Well, Brechin.
45. Lady Well, Dundee.  Perpetuated in the name of the pub Ladywell Tavern and in the Wellgate, Dundee.  ‘The Well of the Blessed Marie de Dundee’ was a holy site in the medieval burgh and was one of the primary water sources for the city until it was demolished on the construction of Victoria Road in 1872.

Ladywell Tavern Dundee, where many a thirst has been quenched.

46. Lady Well, Farnell.
47. Lady Well, Chapelton, Menmuir
[Note also the place-name Ladlewell, east of Forfar:  possibly a corruption of Lady Well?]
48. Lammer Well, St Vigeans.
49. Lanuner Well, by Newton Hill, near Arbroath.
50. [Logie-Pert*]  well in kirk-yard, used to treat sores.
51. Lunan Well, Lunanhead Forfar.
52. McComie’s Well*, Glen Isla.
53. Madie's Well, on the banks of the Lunan, Kinnell.  Nearby was Madie's Heugh.  Possibly a corruption of parish patron St Maelrubha (or other wise Magdalen?).
54. Maid’s Well,  Rescobie.  Any connection with St Triduana who once reputedly lived here?
55. Marywell, Craig parish (anciently Inchbrayoch), close to the coastal village of Usan.
56. Mary Well, Kirriemuir.  Recalled in the local name Marywell  Brae.
57. Mary’s Well, Edzell.
58. Mary’s Well, St Vigeans.
59. Matty’s Well, Panbride.
60. May’s Well, Dunnichen.
61. Medicine Well, Idvies, also known as Medicie Well.
62. Medicine Well, Montrose.  This was, for a short spell in the 18th century, a fashionable spa.
63. Meg Blair’s Well, Lochlee.
64. Monk’s Pool, Kirkton, Lochlee.
65. Monk’s Well, St Vigeans.
66. Naughty Well, Kinnell.  Is this a colloquial corruption of an older (Celtic?) name?  We would love to get to the bottom of this one. The well was close to the ancient chapel of Bolshan.
67. Neil's Well, near the kirk of Kingoldrum.
68. Nettle Well, near Edzell.
69. Nickie’s Well, Witchwood, St Vigeans.
70. Nine Maidens’ Well, Bracken Bruach, Auchterhouse.
71. Ninewells, Dundee.  Close to the River Tay, on the west of the city.  Now commemorated as the name of the largest hospital in the region.
72. Nine Wells, Finavon.  On the hill above the old kirk.  A burn trickles down from the spot.
73. Nine Maiden’s Well, Forfar.  Located in the vicinity of Craig O’ Loch Road.
74. Nine Maiden’s Well, Kirkton of Strathmartine.  Near the kirk, this is importantly in the vicinity of the folk-tale of Martin and the Nine Maidens.
75. Nine Maiden's Well, Cortachy.  Near the church.
76. Nine Wells, Glamis.  The supposed home of the Nine Maidens, in Glen Ogilvy, was located within Glamis parish.
77. Nine Wells, close to Peallock Quarry, Lunan.
78. Nine Wells, Oathlaw.

[Few other areas in Great Britain have so many Nine Wells/Nine Maiden’s Wells, which points to a significant  local cult in the area which became Angus.]

79. Pater Well, near Deerpark Cottage, Kinnaird.
80. Paterlochwell, near Cottarward, Dunnichen.
81. Peatmire Well, Black Wood, Arbirlot.
82. Purdie’s Well, near Ochterlony, Rescobie.
83. Queen’s Well*, Glenmark, Lochlee.  Re-named in honour of Queen Victoria, but originally named Tobar na clachan gualaich, the Well of the White Stone.
84. St  Aidan’s Well, Kirkton of Menmuir.
85. St  Andrew’s Well, Monikie.
86. St Andrew’s Well, Lintrathen.
87. St Anthony’s Well, Auchterhouse.  On Henderson Hill, marked as ‘disused’ on modern maps.
88. St Bride’s Well, Templeton, Nevay.
89. St Columba’s Well, Shielhill, Kirriemuir.
90. St Fergus Well*, Glamis.
91. St Innen’s Well, Fern.  Located in a place named Wellford.
92. St Iten’s Well, Menmuir.  The name is probably a corruption of Aidan, the patron of Memuir parish.  (Same as no. 83?)
93. St John’s Well, Guynd.
94. St Kane’s Well, Monifieth.
95. St Madden’s Well, Airlie.
96. St Martin’s Well, Bridgend, Lethnot.
97. St Martin’s Well, St Martin’s Den, Logie.  Famous for curing scurvy.
98. St Mary’s Well, Oathlaw.
99. St Mary’s Well, Rescobie.
100. St Murdoch’s Well, West Drum, Brechin.
101. St Ninian’s Well, Arbroath.
102. St Peter's Well, Tealing.
103. St Ringan’s Well, Arbirlot.
104. St Sinavy’s Well*, or Sunny Vie, near Mains Castle, Dundee.
105. St Trodlin’s Well, Rescobie.  Named after Triduana.
106. St Vivian’s Well, Fern.
107. Scots Well, Lochee.
108. Scotston Well, Auchterhouse.
109. Seggie Well, Carmylie.
110. Silver Hill, St Vigeans.
111. Sinruie Well, Kirkden. Possibly corrupted from St Maelrubha?
112. Sod’s Well, east of Grange of Conon, St Vigeans.
113. Tannie's Well, Kinnell.  Another well whose name may be a corruption of an older name.
114. Tothel Well, West Mill, Dunnichen.
115. The Tottler, Milto of Conon, Carmyllie.
116. Well of Bowhale, Glen Isla.
117. Whey Wells, Fern.
118.  Witch’s Pool, Kirriemuir.
119.  Wormiehills Well*.  Well and place-name near Arbroath.

Lost Houses of Angus: Lindertis House

When you think of ruined, vanished or lost mansions and castles you may picture homes which have been in situ for generations, perhaps even hundreds of years.  But some imposing buildings were only features of our landscape for a few generations, which begs the question:  should we fret for their loss if they were only evident for such a relatively short time and moreover in the possession of a privileged and wealthy few.  But beyond the architectural interest, there is the social interest, a fragment from the vanished material past, a place once marked out as a special home and then erased forever.

The Landscape Architecture of the Great Painters of Italy by Gilbert Laing Meason.

   Lindertis House in Airlie parish was built by Gilbert Laing Mason in the second decade of the 19^th century. The estate or lands had been in existence for centuries, variously known as Lundateris, Lendartaris and variations, though the surrounding lands were known as Readie.  Gilbert coined the phrase 'landscape architecture' in his book about the gardens of Italy. Ornate gardens were also laid out in the newly bought estate, but when the owner died in 1832 his son, Magnus Laing Meason, was obliged to sell because of monetary difficulties.  The buyer was the creditors of Major-General Sir Thomas Munro, who had died in India in 1827.  When the heir, Thomas Munro, came of age he gained the estate, but he died childless, so it passed to his brother, Campbell Munro, and afterwards to his son, Sir Hugh Thomas Munro (1856-1919), a founder member, and later president, of the Scottish Mountaineering Club.  Sir Hugh has won enduring renown for his list of almost 300 Scottish mountains of 3,000 feet and over, known now as Munros.  

Sir Hugh Thomas Munro.

   Sir Hugh’s son Torquil (1901-1985) inherited the estate, though the family mainly relocated to Drumleys House.  The old house was not found to be cost effective to maintain, though it was converted into flats for estate workers for a time.  These flats were occupied until the mid sixties, but the building was finally demolished twenty years later.

  The cost of maintaining the extensive and elaborate gardens probably contributed much to the downfall of the estate as a whole, though the house itself was likely too massive to be fiscally manageable.  Hardly a trace of the mansion now exists and the carefully tended gardens are now also radically changed, an object lesson in the impermanence of grand designs perhaps.  Those interested in a recollection of Lindertis should consult this excellent oral reminiscence website.