A journey around Scotland: from Tantallon Castle to Dunbar…

 

Friday 4 September – Part 3: Our journey around Scotland goes on, following the A 198 in East Lothian. Today, we’ll reach Dunbar, a colourful little town by the North Sea and the native place of John Muir, a Scottish immigrant and one of the most celebrated American heroes. Another landmark on our ‘Literary Scottish Trail’. Writing may not have been John Muir’s favourite activities, or at least not his priority, but his tales of adventures are captivating and they have been enjoyed by generations of nature lovers.

Dunbar was built long ago around a natural harbour and it is situated about half-way between Edinburgh and Berwick-upon-Tweed (45 km).

When I was a boy in Scotland I was fond of everything that was wild, and all my life I’ve been growing fonder and fonder of wild places. Fortunately around my native town of Dunbar, by the stormy North Sea, there was no lack of wildness, though most of the land lay in smooth cultivation

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

The village huddles around its big sandstone Parish Church which was built in the 19th century on the site of a medieval collegiate church dating from the 14th century and reputed to be the first collegiate church to have been built in Scotland. It had to be restored in 1987 after severe fire damage.

One of our best playgrounds was the famous old Dunbar Castle, to which King Edward fled after his defeat at Bannockburn. It was built more than a thousand years ago, and though we knew little of its history, we had heard many mysterious stories of the battles fought about its walls, and firmly believed that every bone we found in the ruins belonged to an ancient warrior. We tried to see who could climb highest on the crumbling peaks and crags, and took chances that no cautious mountaineer would try. That I did not fall and finish my rock-scrambling in those adventurous boyhood days seems now a reasonable wonder.

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

The ruins of the old castle of Dunbar which stands on a rock testifies to a turbulent historical past of this Royal Burgh which is not far from the border. One feels somewhat puzzled in front of what remains of this former Northumbrian stronghold, not much in fact, and one hesitates before venturing close to its crumbling walls to take pictures. By lack of time we didn’t climb up the rock though we regret it now. There must be a good panoramic view of the area up there and we’ve missed a few islets which seem to be much frequented by birds and among them cormorans.

The weather was fine but it was a wintry day and the blue and white saltire was proudly  fluttering in the wind.

To get an idea of what Dunbar castle must have looked like in its glorious past, below is Andrew Spratt’s superb ‘reconstruction painting‘ of it. Many thanks to him!

One can’t miss the old tolbooth or town house up the High Street. This fine building dates back to the late 16th or early 17th century. Its semi-hexagonal tower is beautifully ornamented with clocks and sundials and it  is surmounted by a slated roof and a lead-covered timber spire containing a bell in its upper part. Its walls made of local red sandstone seem to have recently been harled*.

*In Scottish usage, harling describes an exterior building-surfacing technique which results in a long-lasting weatherproof shield for a stone building. A pigment can be embedded in the harled material, thus obviating the need for repainting. Harling as a technique provides the surface of many Scottish castles, but it is also used for a variety of common everyday building types. Long-lasting and practical, it well suits structures in the Scottish climate. Source: Wikipedia

We won’t have time to walk on the beach and that’s a pity. The water must be cold but it doesn’t seem to bother Scottish young people. We saw several of them playing in the water not far from the harbour and obviously enjoying it.

My earliest recollections of the country were gained on short walks
with my grandfather when I was perhaps not over three years old. On
one of these walks grandfather took me to Lord Lauderdale’s gardens,
where I saw figs growing against a sunny wall and tasted some of
them, and got as many apples to eat as I wished.

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

At the north end of High Street you can’t miss a massive red building dominated by the  statue of a sphynx. James, the Earl of Lauderdale had bought it from Dunbar’s Provost Robert Fall in 1788 and commissioned the famous Adam brothers to extend and modernise his new mansion. It  would be converted into barracks in 1859 and into flats in the 1990s. We didn’t walk around the building which has two symetric wings and looks onto a park.

Due to its privileged situation, Dunbar had always been a prosperous market town with a fishing and trading harbour.  After being rebuilt in 1650, the harbour grew during the 18 th century around such activities as whaling, distilling, brewing, the export of coal and the manufacture of textiles. In the late 19th century it developed as a holiday resort. In this picturesque and peaceful little town, city dwellers could find vivifying air while enjoying the pleasures of a nice beach and playing golf.

We like the atmosphere of the Scottish harbours, their vivifying air, their colours, the sailing ships and fishing boats …

Sometimes an old man will tell you with a harsh voice how it is hard to be a fisherman, harder and harder, how cruel is the sea that takes so many husbands and sons …

We like the spirit of adventure which lingers there and the artists which try to capture the sense of the place using the whole of their pastels…

The most famous son of Dunbar who embarked on a big ship to the far distant lands of the New World never forgot his native place as can be felt in the moving tale of his childhood memories, The Story of My Boyhood and Youth.

WHEN I was a boy in Scotland I was fond of everything that was wild, and all my life I’ve been growing fonder and fonder of wild places and wild creatures. Fortunately around my native town of Dunbar, by the stormy North Sea, there was no lack of wildness, though most of the land lay in smooth cultivation, With red-blooded playmates, wild as myself, I loved to wander in the fields to hear the birds sing, and along the seashore to gaze and wonder at the shells and seaweeds, eels and crabs in the pools among the rocks when the tide was low; and best of all to watch the waves in awful storms thundering on the black headlands and craggy ruins of the old Dunbar Castle when the sea and the sky, the waves and the clouds, were mingled together as one.

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

Of course, after visiting Aberlady Bay, Dirleton and Tantallon castles we can’t expect to have time to visit John Muir’s native house. We must always keep in mind that castles and museums close early in Scotland. It can be very frustrating when you arrive one or two minutes too late…

The house shelters a museum dedicated to the memory of the great Scottish conservationist, aka in the United States as the ‘Father of the National Parks’, and the man who became Theodore Roosevelt’s friend. From what we can guess in peeping through the windows,  this museum is well worth the visit, especially for people who feel the call of the wilderness.

John Muir’s native house is not the house where he spent his childhood as the family moved into the next house on the right where he stayed till the age of 11 when he left for the New World. Below is an old picture of this second house where the following  episode takes place… the beginnings of a vocation 😉

 

 The roof of our house, as well as the crags and walls of the old castle, offered fine mountaineering exercise. Our bedroom was lighted by a dormer window. One night I opened it in search of good scootchers and hung myself out over the slates, holding on to the sill, while the wind was making a balloon of my nightgown. I then dared David to try the adventure, and he did. Then I went out again and hung by one hand, and David did the same. Then I hung by one finger, being careful not to slip, and he did that too. Then I stood on the sill and examined the edge of the left wall of the window, crept up the slates along its side by slight finger-holds, got astride of the roof, sat there a few minutes looking at the scenery over the garden wall while the wind was howling and threatening to blow me off, then managed to slip down, catch hold of the sill, and get safely back into the room. But before attempting this scootcher, recognizing its dangerous character, with commendable caution I warned David that in case I should happen to slip I would grip the rain-trough when I was going over the eaves and hang on, and that he must then run fast downstairs and tell father to get a ladder for me, and tell him to be quick because I would soon be tired hanging dangling in the wind by my hands. After my return from this capital scootcher, David, not to be out-done, crawled up to the top of the window-roof, and got bravely astride of it; but in trying to return he lost courage and began to greet (to cry), “I canna get doon. Oh, I canna get doon.” I leaned out of the window and shouted encouragingly, “Dinna greet, Davie, dinna greet, I’ll help ye doon. If you greet, fayther will hear, and gee us baith an awfu’ skelping.” Then, standing on the sill and holding on by one hand to the window-casing, I directed him to slip his feet down within reach, and, after securing a good hold, I jumped inside and dragged him in by his heels. This finished scootcher-scrambling for the night and frightened us into bed.

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

We take much pleasure walking up Dunbar High Street which is lined with colourful shops and houses…

and last but not least we meet a very nice and kind friend on our way… pretty well educated indeed… and it makes me think that the first story I’ve read from John Muir is the story of an extraordinary dog called Stickeen. Indeed the story is entitled after the name of the dog. John Muir loved animals and especially dogs as can be seen in this very moving story and another one which is about a dog called ‘Watch’, the first dog the newly settled Muir family adopted as a puppy in America. Since I’m a fan of dog stories I will come back later to these. The story of Stickeen begins with the poem ‘To my dog Blanco’ by J.G. Holland which thus begins:

My dear dumb friend, low lying there,

A willing vassal at my feet;

Glad partner of my home and fare,

My shadow in the street;

 

I look into your great brown eyes,

Where love and loyal homage shine,

And wonder where the difference lies

Between your soul and mine!

(…)

 ‘John Muir, Earth-Planet, Universe’

writes John Muir on the cover of one of his travel notebooks…

One night, when David and I were at grandfather’s fireside solemnly learning our lessons as usual, my father came in with news, the most wonderful, most glorious, that wild boys ever heard. “Bairns,” he said, “you needna learn your lessons the nicht, for we’re gan toAmerica the morn!” No more grammar, but boundless woods full of mysterious good things; trees full of sugar, growing in ground full of gold; hawks, eagles, pigeons, filling the sky; millions of birds’nests, and no gamekeepers to stop us in all the wild, happy land.(…)

Next morning we went by rail to Glasgow and thence joyfully sailed away from beloved Scotland, flying to our fortunes on the wings of the winds, care-free as thistle seeds. We could not then know what we were leaving, what we were to encounter in the New World, nor what our gains were likely to be. We were too young and full of hope for fear or regret, but not too young to look forward with eager enthusiasm to the wonderful schoolless bookless American wilderness.(…)

In crossing the Atlantic before the days of steamships, or even theAmerican clippers, the voyages made in old-fashioned sailing-vessels were very long. Ours was six weeks and three days. But because we had no lessons to get, that long voyage had not a dull moment for us boys. (…)

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

In the short winter days, when it was dark even at our early bedtime, we usually spent the hours before going to sleep playing voyages around the world under the bed-clothing. After mother had carefully covered us, bade us good-night and gone downstairs, we set out on our travels. Burrowing like moles, we visited France, India, America, Australia, New Zealand, and all the places we had ever heard of; our travels never ending until we fell asleep.

(The Story of My Boyhood and Youth –  John Muir)

John Muir combined all talents being at the same time a naturalist, an explorer, a mountaineer, an engineer and a pioneer of conservation. Though he wrote his first book at the age of 56 and the second one about fifteen years later, he became a popular writer and story-teller and the tales of his adventures have fascinated generations of nature lovers. ‘John Muir is my Hero’ writes an Amazon customer under the pen name of ‘ I Love Oregon’ and he continues:  ‘I absolutely love the way John Muir writes. His descriptions of nature and his adventures are captivating and beautiful. I think I may have all of his books by now….they are good to read when you need to escape from the hustle-bustle of life.’

In 1815 John Muir, only aged 11 then, left Scotland for America with his father, two of his sisters and his brother David.  The rest of the family (his mother and three younger children) remained in Dunbar. They would follow later.

In 1893, John Muir, aged 55 visits Europe, including England and Ireland, beginning and ending his trip in Dunbar. Many of the places he visited have become since national parks, such as the Lake District of England, Killarney, and parts of the Alps. He particularly enjoyed the fiords of Norway, toured Switzerland, crossed the mountains to northern Italy.

Below are the few lines of introduction to a comprehensive page devoted to John Muir on Wikipedia.

John Muir (21 April 1838 – 24 December 1914) was a Scottish-born American naturalist, author, and early advocate of preservation of wilderness in the United States. His letters, essays, and books telling of his adventures in nature, especially in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, have been read by millions. His activism helped to preserve the Yosemite Valley, Sequoia National Park and other wilderness areas. The Sierra Club, which he founded, is now one of the most important conservation organizations in the United States. One of the most well-known hiking trails in the U.S., the 211-mile (340 km) John Muir Trail, was named in his honor. Other such places include Muir Woods National Monument, Muir Beach, John Muir College, Mount Muir, Camp Muir and Muir Glacier.

In his later life, Muir devoted most of his time to the preservation of the Western forests. He petitioned the U.S. Congress for the National Park bill that was passed in 1890, establishing both Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks. Because of the spiritual quality and enthusiasm toward nature expressed in his writings, he was able to inspire readers, including presidents and congressmen, to take action to help preserve large nature areas. He is today referred to as the “Father of the National Parks,” and the National Park Service produced a short documentary on his life.

 

And here’s a link to a detailed chronology established by the Sierra Club which he founded in 1892.

‘The name of John Muir has come to stand for the protection of wild land and wilderness in both America and Britain. Born in Dunbar in 1838, Muir is famed as the father of American conservation. This collection, including the rarely seen Stickeen, presents the finest of Muir’s writings, and imparts a rounded portrait of a man whose generosity, passion, discipline and vision are an inspiration to this day.’

(Source: from the back cover of the above 1996 Canongate edition)

 

John Muir From Scotland to the Sierra Frederick Turner Canongate1997

Immigrant, inventor, botanist, writer and pioneering conservationist, Muir is one of the great Scots of the nineteenth century. From his humble origins in Dunbar, John Muir has risen to the status of an American icon as the father of American conservation. While others dreamed of becoming the archetypal New World Man, escaping into the wilderness beyond the confines and comforts of civilisation, very few actually lived the dream as Muir did, fully and deeply.
Frederick Turner’s monumental work is the definitive biography on Muir.

(from the back cover of the above 1997 Canongate edition)

We left Dunbar, promising ourselves that we would come back to visit John Muir’s house and to get a greater sense of the place that gave John Muir  such a love for Nature. We could visit the John Muir Country park which was established in 1976 and follow the John Muir Way exploring its remarkable landscape of cliffs, dunes, woodlands, salt marshes and discovering the rich variety of wildlife it shelters.

On April 21st,  Scotland has celebrated the 175th anniversary of John Muir’s birth and a John Muir Trail (73 km)l is due to open in 2014.

 

Now, that’s the end of a new day full of magic in Scotland. We enjoy our Scottish journey better than ever…

To add to the magic I’d like to share with you two superb videos I’ve found on YouTube about the life of John Muir in the New World.

Enjoy!

A bientôt. Mairiuna

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Other related posts from this serie:

1. A Journey around Scotland: From Gretna to Edinburgh

2. A Journey around Scotland: Roaming the New Town in Edinburgh

3. A Journey around Scotland: A day in the Old Town of Edinburg

4. A Journey around Scotland: from North Berwick to Tantallon Castle