Chillingham Wild Cattle

Around 6000 years ago, farming practices began in Great Britain. The hunter gatherer lifestyle was replaced by crop rearing and animal husbandry. Wild animals had to be domesticated in order to create the livestock we are familiar with today. The ancestor of modern cattle is considered to be the aurochs, now globally extinct.

Prior to human arrival, Britain was likely covered in a patchwork of grassy plains, shrublands and woodland. It was the ideal habitat for aurochs. They would have wandered the vast, wild landscapes in large herds. Grazing animals permit an array of wildflowers to co-exist by ensuring more boisterous plants don't dominate. The large herbivores nibble at the roots of bushes and young trees, thereby maintaining mosaics of open vegetation. Carcasses would fertilise the soil and provide food for a wide variety of other animals. Cattle dung is a nutrient-rich resource for plant and insect life. All part of a cycle. Human beings disrupted this natural order by taking large areas of land for farming purposes and domesticated livestock was given priority. Wild aurochs survived in Eastern Europe until the early 1600s, when the last known examples died out in the Polish forests. Their DNA imprint lives on in modern breeds such as Highland and Longhorn cattle, which explains why these particular beasts are so hardy. The Chillingham Wild Cattle Centre allows visitors to view the closest living link to the pre-domestic ancestors. Situated in Northumberland near the market town of Wooler, the Chillingham herd has roamed free for many centuries within the confines of the hilly estate. Safe from human interference, the bulls compete naturally for the attention of females, occasionally fighting each other to the death. The herd size is currently 130, equally split between male and female. All sport horns and have never been handled by people. No vet has ever administered treatment, other than humanely dispatch an animal clearly on the way out. No new member has joined the group in over three centuries and as a result the cattle are now completely inbred. There are scientific arguments to say they shouldn't have survived this! We drove down the A1 early on a Saturday morning and passed through Wooler, arriving at the visitors centre shortly thereafter. The estate was broken up in the 1980s and the cattle are now in the hands of a charitable trust. Chillingham Castle - the medieval manor house -functions today as separate concern. The Wild Cattle Visitors centre was constructed in recent years and offers refreshments, toilet facilities and, naturally, a gift shop. Staff are on hand to answer queries and the pre-cattle entertainment was provided by the adorable Teazle. A friendly springer spaniel, she dropped tennis balls at people's feet, hoping to engage them in a game of fetch. A very efficient retriever she was too!

Outside of winter, the centre is open seven days a week and offers four tours per day. Visitors are taken on a trailer ride up to the pasture. Each trip can accommodate a maximum of 20 people. There had been a constant drizzle as we drove down and it was a relief to note the trailer was enclosed by plastic sheeting. Ponchos could be safely stowed in the car. Two women - both fellow birdwatchers - joined our tour and the Land Rover began pulling us up the hillside. The website describes the trailer as "not well sprung" and fortunately the vehicle crawled along in first gear. Upon spotting the cattle (they do move around), the driver / guide pulled over at a field gate and invited us to take a few steps inside. The animals were around 150 yards away and that was as close are we were permitted to go. A large group had clustered together with a few outliers, but the beasts (thankfully) showed little interest in the spectators. A very informative talk was given and guests were invited to ask questions. I already knew about the isolation and inbreeding but hadn't truly appreciated the extent to which the cattle are left to fend for themselves. Struggling calves aren't helped in any way, nor are cows who experience difficulties after (or during) giving birth. The aim is to replicate nature as closely as possible. There is great scientific interest in the herd. Meticulous records have been kept since 1860, at the behest of Charles Darwin no less! A bellow rang out from time to time and I learned the bulls usually live for around 12 years, cows a little longer. Dead animals are retrieved and autopsies sometimes performed by researchers. I was astonished to hear the size of the herd had once dropped to just 13, following a harsh winter. I presume the gene pool was further depleted in subsequent generations. The last world cattle census was taken in 2018 and numbered over a billion beasts, underlining the infinitesimal fraction that the Chillingham contingent represents. The habitat here is a good example of wood pasture - now rare in Europe. A wide variety of plants and wildlife are present, due to the absence of intensive farming. Deer, red squirrels and badgers live within the estate and the bird species include green woodpeckers, buzzards and nuthatch. The guide let slip that a back-up herd exists in an undisclosed Scottish location. Fertility has not declined, perhaps attributable to the strict natural selection environment that applies. The cattle remain remarkably disease free and thankfully the nationwide foot and mouth outbreak in 2001 stopped two miles short of Chillingham Estate. Had a case been confirmed, the entire herd would have faced slaughter.

I found the whole experience fascinating. Domestic cattle are of course ten a penny as you travel around the UK but it was amazing to see a wild herd at close quarters and learn about the genetic links to the past. At just £9 per person, the tour is superb value for money and an absorbing history lesson for anyone interested in British flora and fauna. We drove back to Wooler, the last town of any significant distance from home we had visited before lockdown was announced in March, 2020. Thankfully the High Street was still trading vibrantly, with the independent shops still extant. We purchased lunch from the bakery and popped into the sweet shop. The delicatessen is owned by a German-speaking Scotsman and he remembered us from our previous trip. We selected some local cheeses as he regaled us with tales of his recent visits to the Vaterland. Wooler has just 2000 residents and it didn't take us long to explore the town centre. We then headed out to the coast to observe the birdlife and Budle Bay, one of our regular haunts over the years. Not a great deal was happening today, but it was nice to see a few curlews prodding the sands. Our accommodation for the night was on the Scottish side of the border in Kirk Yetholm. The small village sits at the northern end of the Pennine Way - a challenging 268-mile hillwalking trail that stretches all the way to the Peak District National Park in Derbyshire. Saint Cuthbert's Way also passes through Kirk Yetholm, meaning a steady flow of walkers provides a viable business model for the local hostel. The area is also popular with cyclists. The hostel is owned by Friends of Nature UK and is staffed by volunteer wardens. We managed to book one of the private rooms (which isn't any dearer than two beds in a dorm). Aside from a German family with young children, every guest was over the age of 45, a typical situation for a rural "youth hostel" in the UK. There was a spacious kitchen and lounge. Far more relaxing than my recent stay in a central London bunkhouse, not that you can meaningfully compare the two environments. After a good night's sleep and hearty breakfast, we headed northwards.

I had bought a handy map of the Northumberland 250 at the cattle centre. The 250 is a circular scenic driving route around the county. This type of experience is popular at the moment, with Scotland's North Coast 500 and Ireland's Wild Atlantic Way attracting motorists from all over the world. Route 66 with added rain! We decided to drive a small portion of the Northumberland circuit from Wooler to Berwick, where we could join the A1. It had rained heavily the previous evening and the back roads had surface water in places, but nothing too serious. Onwards we splashed. The map had identified the villages of Ford and Etal as places of interest. I must confess I hadn't heard of either. We turned off the main Coldstream road at the junction for Etal and spotted a brown sign for a heavy horse centre. Interesting, but we were already livestocked out this weekend. Back came the keeper of the brown signs with a better offer - the Heatherslaw Heritage Railway. Ok, now we're talking! I didn't expect to hit the jackpot though. As we pulled into the car-park, a locomotive was sitting in steam, clearly preparing for departure. We swiftly purchased tickets and squeezed into one of the little carriages. Heatherslaw is a 15-inch narrow gauge railway, running alongside the River Till from a mill complex knows as Ford Forge, to Etal, two miles away. Remarkably, the railway was built from scratch as a tourist attraction in the 1980s. I had wrongly assumed it must have industrial roots. A locomotive was commissioned from the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway in Cumbria, while the six coaches (later increased to 13) were assembled on site. The line began running in 1989 and was extended to its present length in 2004. Over the last decade, a pair of new locomotives has been introduced. Steam-driven Bunty was working the line today, while reserve workhorse Binky runs on diesel. Due to time constraints (and the miserable weather), we decided not to alight at Etal and instead took the same train back to Ford Forge after the engine had changed ends. What an unexpected find!

We wandered over to the working corn mill as Nicole wanted to purchase flour for bread making. We entered the gift shop, but it was also possible to tour the building which has housed the present incarnation of the mill since 1830. Local historians reckon milling has taken place on this site for over 700 years. Closed in 1957, the corn mill was saved from demolition in 1972 and placed in the care of a trust. Opening as museum three years later, the mill educates visitors about the industrial past of the area as well as producing ten tons of flour every year. The historic Ford & Etal Estates (united in 1908) cover 14000 acres and contain 31 tenant farms. 600 people live within the boundaries and there are many tourist attractions within the two villages and wider grounds. A visitors centre next to the mill outlined the history of the area and provided information leaflets. The ruined Etal Castle was visible from the train ride. Abandoned since 1748, it was sacked in 1514 by the invading army of King James IV of Scotland. This disastrous campaign saw Scotland heavily defeated at the Battle of Flodden. James remains the last British monarch to die in battle, just a couple of miles from where we stood. We had previously visited the battlefield a few years back, on a return trip from England. We will definitely return to Ford & Etal in the future. The area is close enough to the A1 to make it a viable detour when driving south. Up at Berwick, we crossed the border and paused for lunch at the viewpoint. A family were posing for photographs at the sign and Nicole offered to take a group shot. It turned out they were from Germany. Die Welt ist ganz klein! Entering East Lothian, we turned off the main road near Dunbar to follow a coastal loop. We chanced upon a smokehouse and bought some goodies for future consumption. The next stop was at a car park with a fine view of the Bass Rock - a huge volcanic plug with sheer slopes standing two miles offshore. The rock is home to the world's largest Northern gannet colony and can be seen from many points on the Firth of Forth. Passing through North Berwick and Gullane, we pulled over at the premises of the SOC (Scottish Ornithologists Club) in Aberlady. Admission is free to all and there were two exhibitions of bird art on display in the public galleries. The woman behind the counter suggested we stop at Musselburgh Scrapes on the way home. Five new hides have recently opened on this patch of reclaimed land at the point where the River Esk flows into the Forth. The new development has a fully accessible tarmac path encircling the wetlands, pebbled beaches and other habitat within. Fencing and a moat have been installed to keep dogs out of the bird territory. The project has been carved out of the ash lagoons that previously occupied the site and the priority is to attract roosting waders. Public access was only recently granted and the land was gifted to the local council by Scottish Power, who created the lagoon landscape with ash from the now-demolished Cockenzie Power Station.

We joined the Edinburgh bypass, edging ever closer towards home. One mission remained, however. IKEA has a store near Loanhead and we have been regular customers over the years. Nicole wanted to have a look at the computer desks. It's often better to see them built up and actually sit at the furniture before parting with any money. Dropping in around teatime is a risky business though. No matter how much willpower you think you are capable of exerting, the lure of the café is strong and you always find yourself drawn there. I'm a great believer in trying different dishes on the menu of a restaurant you frequent. IKEA is the one exception. It's always a plate of meatball, chips and peas, with a slice of daim cake for dessert. Duly fed and watered, we passed through the emporium downstairs, managing to make just minor purchases. We were home 45 minutes later. A great little weekend trip that the weather tried to dampen, but couldn't. Learning about wildlife and stumbling upon a steam railway. Not bad at all.

Forfar Nature Reserves

I have made a few trips up to Angus recently. Nicole sometimes works in Dundee and I take the opportunity to push further afield with the car, whenever I'm free to do so. Just east of Forfar, lie two nature reserves and I paid them a visit on successive Fridays.

The 100-acre site at Murton Farm was created within the grounds of a disused quarry and is run by a charitable organisation. The land was originally drained and developed for agriculture in the 18th century and flax for local mills was grown. The farm later produced grain and potatoes, along with rearing beef cattle. A quarrying operation began in 1990 and lasted for a decade. The area was then landscaped and a nature reserve created with a dual educational and environmental purpose. The animals live around the central pond and include rare poultry breeds, donkeys, ferrets and guinea pigs. A nominal fee is payable for entry to the farm and the kids can play on trampolines and in the sand pits. There is also a tearoom serving a range of home cooking and baking. The walking trail around the nature reserve is free to explore and a complete circuit is just over a mile. If visiting, note that the car-park gates are locked daily at 4.30pm. The territory is a mix of wetland, wildflower meadow and woodland. Three small lochs and the wetland area can be viewed from the bird hides and there is ample seating around the path network. I had stopped in Forfar for a traditional bridie and ate it for lunch before walking the short distance to the first hide. The wetlands were inhabited by mallards, geese and swans. Nothing unusual there, but it was nice to see them going about their business in a quiet spot. Walking past Buddy's Loch and Home Loch, I checked out another hide before heading into the woodland. Birch, willow and rowan are the most abundant trees. It was threatening to rain and I hurried past North Loch and into the meadow. Four sections of grassland were sown with wildflowers in 2003 and, where possible, native seed was used. The meadow is managed each winter by cutting different parts. The aim is to continually improve and extend the habitat but - as a text panel pointed out - this is a notoriously difficult process. A number of management strategies are required to have any hope of success. Britain has lost something in the region of 98% of its wild meadows in recent decades and it will clearly be a mammoth task trying to redress that balance, even on a small scale. I wandered over to a curious bulwark with drilled holes.

This turned out to be a sand martin nesting wall. Erected in 2006, it was funded by the Scottish Executive, with Aggregate Industries (who had run the quarry) supplying the materials and heavy machinery. Four feet of foundation was poured and the project required substantial shuttering to retain 16 tons of concrete in three layers. The wall is an impressive 12 feet in height and measures 38 feet across. Hundreds of tons of sand were packed behind in order to accommodate the sand martin burrows. Tunnels in the concrete slope upwards to prevent water reaching the nesting chambers. The birds can enter and excavate their own quarters in the sand behind the face of the wall. Both sexes work on this task and the nest is lined with plant matter and feathers. Sand martins are agile flyers and feed on invertebrates over water. They arrive on Scottish shores in April and leave for Southern Africa by the end of August. 400 breeding pairs were counted at Murton in a 2010 survey. Breeding starts in mid May and continues into June, with three to seven eggs laid. If a brood is reduced due to poor weather conditions, the female leaves the remaining chicks for the male to rear and moves in with another partner to try again immediately. The first male is then free to try his luck with another female once the young have fledged. It's the birdie version of the swinging sixties! Chicks are mature enough to fend for themselves after just 19 days. I witnessed a few residents flying in and out of the wall but taking a photo was nigh impossible, due to the rapidity of their coming and going. At this point the rain came on and I took shelter in a conveniently sited observation hut. The shower showed no signs of stopping and I had to bite the bullet and dash back to the car. It did ease off somewhat and I didn't get a soaking. I passed the tearoom and also noticed a large tepee which can be hired for a day. Murton is a pleasant place to visit if passing by or visiting Forfar town. The following week I pushed a little further along the same road to Balgavies Loch.

We had been here a couple of years ago and had spotted an osprey high up in the trees. I hoped for more of the same today. The reserve is run by the Scottish Wildlife Trust and the inland loch is surrounded by reedbeds and willow carr, attracting water rail, great crested grebe and a number of wintering wildfowl, including goldeneye, teal and wigeon. The reserve is also a haven for red squirrel and features an osprey nest. The first recorded hatching occurred in 2012 and a trio of chicks have ringed by experts this year. The news delighted local wildlife enthusiasts, who had rescued a young osprey from the loch the previous summer. Searing heat caused a supporting branch to crack and the nest collapsed. The reserve warden fed the youngster on a diet of sea bass and constructed a makeshift nest from an old potato basket. The chick survived to fledge and depart the country on the arduous journey south that all ospreys undertake. The adult breeding pair returned to the loch this year and everything has worked out well so far. The reintroduction of the osprey has been a great success in Scotland and this magnificent bird of prey has now spread to England and Wales. Around 350 pairs are based across the entire island. I entered the small hide and instantly spotted an adult bird on a high branch, the same position we observed on our previous visit. Another birdwatcher was present and he pointed out the two chicks in the nest and another one on a lower part of the tree. This bold youngster had been making a few test flights while the siblings remained in the nest. However, the flapping of wings from the unfledged pair indicated it wouldn't be long until they were airbourne for the first time. I had an excellent view of the activity through my binoculars and then I spotted the other adult returning to the nest with a fish in its talons. The female parent is usually the first to depart, while the male hangs around a little longer, making sure the young birds are able to hunt indendently. Dad then leaves on the perilous migration, followed shortly thereafter by the young, guided purely by instinct. No need from them to ask Siri.

Ospreys spend the winter on the west coast of Africa. They migrate alone and stop at several feeding sites along the way, sometimes for a week or so. There are several potential hazards: exhaustion, habitat loss, persecution and the grisly fate of becoming entangled in fishing nets. I spent a good half hour in the hide, also noting the small birds buzzing around the feeder just outside. Let's hope the ospreys return next year and raise more offspring. Nests sometimes fail but this bird has bucked the trend of declining numbers and is a welcome sight on our large bodies of water. I had also planned to walk the mile and a half circuit around the loch. This allowed me to get a little closer to the tree favoured by the ospreys and I was able to take a few decent photographs, whereas in the hide I'd been right at the limit of my zoom. The path then climbed away from the water, bringing me to another car park before returning to shore level. As I rounded the far end of the loch, I was treated to the rather comical sight of a Highland cow paddling while geese swam by. I already knew the path on the far side occupied the course of the old Perth to Forfar railway but I didn't expect to find the remains of a station. Auldbar Road was a halt on the Arbroath and Forfar Railway, opened as far back as 1838. Part of this line - including Auldbar Road - was absorbed into the trunk route between Perth and Kinnaber Junction near Montrose, the gateway to Aberdeen. This high-speed corridor closed in 1967 but passenger services at Auldbar Road had ceased 11 years earlier. Today the platforms can easily be spotted, covered by a light layer of vegetation. A brick building survives by the road bridge. Beyond stands the station house and signal box which are now privately owned. I had a fun time poking around the station remains before taking the path along the old trackbed, back towards the bird hide.

It may seem hard to believe, but I was walking along the old West Coast Main Line. Nowadays we consider this key route to start at London and end in Glasgow, while the east coast counterpart runs all the way to Aberdeen. But until 1967, you could work your way up the western side of the country as far as Forfar, then on to Kinnaber Junction - the famous meeting point from which one set of tracks proceeded towards the Granite City. Indeed, a well-publicised "race to the north" was conducted between two trains in 1895, with the west emerging victorious. I imagine it was decided in the 1960s that only one route to Aberdeen made sense, but it meant towns such as Forfar were cut off from the national network completely. Axing railways on such a grand scale would be unthinkable today, but they were seen as yesterday's technology in the post-war period and the decaying network needed huge investment to bring it up to modern standards. The prevailing political mood was that some lines had to go. The path was in a shallow cutting which obscured views of the nearby loch. I did however pass reasonably close to the osprey nest and a couple of guys had moved round to this point from the hide. Back at the car, I headed back down the road to collect Nicole. From the M90, we cut across to Dollar where culinary delights awaited. Troy-Ann's Caribbean Kitchen opens on selected days and serves a range of takeaway Jamaican cuisine. I opted for the goat curry while Nicole ordered fried chicken. Being less than half an hour from home, the foil containers kept our food warm and we ate heartily.

Brechin Town House Museum

Scotland officially has eight cities. My home town of Dunfermline received the royal charter last year. There is no agreed definition of what constitutes a city. One theory says a cathedral must be present. If you go down that route, the unexpected name of Brechin creeps on to the list. Moreover, the local football team is named Brechin City. It was to this small Angus settlement (population 7000) I headed on a Friday afternoon while Nicole had a session at Abertay University in Dundee. I dropped her off and drove the 25 miles up the A90 to the quirky cathedral city, set within prime agricultural territory.

A few months ago, I wrote a blog post about a walk along the old Brechin railway. The iron road was also the reason for today's visit, although it would be an indoor activity. The Town House Museum was hosting an exhibition about the development and closure of railways in the county. The new transport system connected Angus to the rest of the country and transformed the local economy as vast quantities of produce could be quickly transported to markets far and wide. The museum is located within a historic municipal building built in 1790. Entrance is free and the ground floor covers the history of the town/city. Upstairs is an art gallery and a room for special exhibitions. Opening hours at the time of writing are 1100 - 1600, Thursday to Monday. The modern East Coast Main Line runs along the Angus coast from Dundee to Montrose. A few decades ago however, a network of inland routes criss-crossed the county, all of which were deemed uneconomical by British Railways in the post-war era and along came Dr Richard Beeching with his infamous axe. Brechin Station is still extant and I parked near this attractive Victorian terminus, built by the Aberdeen Railway company in 1848. Closed to passenger traffic in 1952, it serves today as the base for a heritage railway that has been running steam trains to Bridge of Dun - four miles away - since 1993. My dad and I did this tour around 10 years ago. The heritage operation trades as the Caledonian Railway - a nod to the company who controlled many routes in Angus and indeed Scotland, prior to grouping in 1923, at which point it was absorbed into the London, Midland and Scottish Railway. Nationalisation followed in 1948. I entered the museum and proceeded directly to the railway display, passing a set of wall-mounted Pictish stones as I climbed the stairs. Probably the best place to start when considering the lost railways of Angus is the situation in Forfar. The county town was a transport hub and - even as late as the 1950s - a whopping 80 members of staff were associated with the station. A high-speed Caledonian line ran from Stanley Junction near Perth, through Forfar and on to Kinnaber Junction just north of Montrose, where the line converged with the coastal route, originally built by the North British Company after the opening of the Forth and Tay bridges. Kinnaber can be considered the meeting point of the east and west trunk routes from London. One set of tracks proceeded from here to Aberdeen. In 1895, two locomotives left the English capital in a "race to the north" - an event that aroused great public interest. The train running up the western side of the country reached Kinnaber first to claim the prize. Unbelievably, the old Caley route was closed in 1967 and the grand Forfar Station was no more, although the goods yard remained connected to Perth until 1982. Nothing remains of the station infrastructure today. Until fairly recently, football fans heading to Station Park - home of Forfar Athletic - had to pass through a short tunnel below part of the old platforms but that too has been demolished. Forfar was also connected to Dundee by a direct line that opened in 1870 and replaced more circuitous options via Arbroath or Newtyle. Competition from local bus services and the increasing popularity of the motor car led to passenger services being withdrawn in 1955. Goods traffic ceased in 1967 and another line to Forfar was lost. A branch to Kirriemuir followed a similar pattern of closure. Other casualties were the local lines that split off the trunk route to connect Forfar to Brechin and Arbroath.

Bridge of Dun was the site of a junction that fed a branch line from the Caledonian tracks towards Brechin. This is the stretch currently used by the heritage railway and good views of the stations at each end can be had from nearby road overbridges. Passenger trains stopped running in 1952 but a freight link was in existence until 1981. Had this line (and the Forfar goods stub) managed to cling on until the end of the decade, they might have been saved as railways became important political tools. Fate conspired otherwise and the last remaining portion of the old main line was lifted, leaving the heritage crew in charge of an isolated piece of track. They had negotiated a swift purchase and trains were permitted to run within the Brechin station limits until a Light Railway Order was obtained for the full stretch. Brechin also had a branch line running north to the village of Edzell. It diverged from the railway that ran along to Forfar. Edzell was a popular holiday destination in the early 1900s but passenger services were withdrawn as early as 1931. Goods traffic to the military base continued until 1964. Over on the coast, Arbroath is served by the East Coast Main Line but a link to Forfar was built as early as 1838. Some of the track was subsequently taken over by the Perth to Kinnaber main route, illustrating the jostling that took place between the various private companies that established our national rail network. Guthrie was the point where the new express line diverged from the original Forfar to Arbroath run. The portion from Guthrie to Arbroath closed to passengers and freight in 1955. The city of Dundee is historically part of Angus County (sometimes known as Forfarshire) but today's exhibition focussed primarily on lines that traversed the modern Angus Council Area. There was little mention of railway infrastructure within the Dundee municipal boundaries. But that's a minor quibble. The real oversight was the lack of a large map showing how the Angus lines were interconnected. Each featured route had a text panel with useful information about the construction process, type of traffic carried and the eventual closure (where appropriate) but you would have to be over 70 years old to have a vivid memory of the old network. A handful of geeks like yours truly spend hours studying the topography of long-gone railways but most people visiting the exhibition would not have been able to mentally picture the extent of the coverage. There was a wonderful diagram of Forfar Station (pictured below) but a county-wide basic schematic would have been a useful addition.

There were several examples of old promotional literature, including a leaflet produced by the Brechin heritage railway before websites conveyed this sort of information. The Beeching era was handled fairly. It's easy to think of the 1960s as a period of sheer butchery but the railways were losing money hand over fist and the decaying network still relied heavily on steam. Millions had been squandered building enormous freight marshalling yards in the post-war years, at a time when road haulage was already taking a lot of business away from the railways. Something had to give and Beeching himself was merely the hatchet man hired to do the dirty work. You could certainly argue he went too far and some of the closures should never have been sanctioned, such as the Forfar trunk route. It's interesting to note that Labour came to power before many of the lines slated for closure were actually decommissioned. The new government made virtually no attempt to halt the process. Due to my long-standing interest in Scottish railways, I was already familiar with the geography covered by the exhibition. One thing I hadn't heard of was the disaster at Elliot Junction Station, north of Carnoustie on the coastal main line. It was here the Carmyllie Railway diverged inland. Originally built in 1855 to transport quarried stone, the line carried passengers between 1900 and 1929 under the terms of the Light Railways Act. This allowed simplified low-cost lines to be authorised without the lengthy process of obtaining an official Act of Parliament. The accident occurred on the main line. In 1906, a stationary local Arbroath to Dundee passenger train was struck from behind by a southbound express during a horrendous blizzard. Three coaches of the smaller train were wrecked, as was the leading carriage of the fast service, whose driver (Gourlay) was pulled out uninjured from underneath a pile of coal that had fallen on top of him. However his fireman was dead, as were 21 passengers. Gourlay was blamed for the crash as he had been advised to proceed with caution - slowing down at all stations - and not rely blindly upon the signalling system during the adverse weather. The Carmyllie Railway closed to freight in 1965 and a factory stub by the main line existed until 1984.

From the railway gallery, I wandered through to the display of paintings in the adjacent upstairs room. The artwork was by Brechin native David Waterson (1870 - 1954) who lived in the town for most of his life. A prolific artist, Waterson painted with oils and watercolours. He also created etchings and dabbled in photography. After training at Edinburgh School of Art, Waterson's work was exhibited in London, Dresden and Paris. He gained substantial interest from collectors and could count King Gustav of Sweden among his admirers. A bright feature seemed assured. Unfortunately the big breakthrough never came and Waterson's career didn't live up to its early promise. He remained popular locally and the museum showcased a range of his paintings depicting Brechin and the Angus countryside. I particularly liked the image of Edzell Castle (shown above). I proceeded downstairs to learn about the history of Brechin itself. The Town House was constructed around 1790. Originally it contained the courtroom and jail at ground level, with the Council Chambers on the upper floor. The custodial facilities were described in 1819 as being "tolerably decent" for debtors but criminals were confined to "two wretched dirty cells". By 1844, a new jail had been built elsewhere in the town and the aforementioned criminal accommodation was converted to police offices. At the turn of the 20th century, local administration moved out and the Town House became a retail unit. The museum has occupied the premises since 2003. Religion played an important role in the development of Brechin and the A-listed cathedral dates from the 13th century. The adjacent round tower is even older and almost unique in Scotland, the only other example being located in Abernethy, Perthshire. The cathedral's future as a working church is uncertain. Dwindling congregation numbers caused a cessation of services in 2021 and the church authorities are exploring different options for the building's future. At the moment, the Society of Friends of Brechin Cathedral - a local community group - is managing the church on a one-year deal. The town was granted the right to hold a weekly market in 1150 by King David I. There was a flourishing trade in wool, hides and sheep fleeces but Brechin's success prompted the neighbouring Royal Burghs of Montrose and Forfar to lodge objections. Official Burgh status was finally conferred upon Brechin in 1451, cementing its right to trade.

The museum contained a mock-up of the cathedral scriptorium, showing a monk hard at work writing and illustrating manuscripts. In an age when few people could read and write, the production of documents was a highly respected art. In the 1980s, a sheet of 13th-century music was discovered during the conservation of a book published in 1660. The score had been incorporated into the binding, under the leather cover, with holes cut out for metal buckles. A more sombre display was the reconstruction of the "black hole" - a notorious prison cell. The shackled figure of John Gall sat inside. Born in Brechin in 1803, he was employed as a cattleman and was a popular figure in the town. Married with four children, he was convicted in of rustling in 1827 and sentenced to transportation, following his trial in Aberdeen. Placed on a prison hulk bound for Tasmania, little more was heard of him until 1837, when he petitioned the governor for permission to marry Ann Radford. His life then took a normal law-abiding course, as attested by the many Australian descendants of the couple. His Scottish family survived the trauma of the events and several people here have identified Gall as an ancestor. The museum speculated that Gall - previously a man of good character - may have been driven by desperation as the winter of 1827 was particularly harsh and a disastrous spring followed. Moving forward a century, I was drawn to the displays on Sir Robert Watson-Watt, a Brechin native who pioneered radar systems in the 1930s. Despite having a keen interest in WW2, I had no idea that one of the most important technical advances of the conflict had been developed by a Scotsman. We do seem to punch above our weight in the invention stakes. In 1935, Watson-Watt (a descendant of steam engineer James Watt) was appointed director of the British National Physical Laboratory. It was here he worked on a system named Radio Detection and Ranging - subsequently shortened to RADAR - which became a vital defence mechanism enabling enemy aircraft to be identified in flight. A chain of radar posts on the east and south coasts was already in place when war broke out and the technology became standard kit on British ships and aircraft. Watson-Watt was dispatched to America as an advisor and there is no doubt he contributed greatly to the overall war effort. In recognition of his genius, the British government awarded him the sum of £50,000. Bizarrely, the general public wasn't aware of Watson-Watt's achievements until 1971, when the information was declassified. He spent his later years in Canada where he was caught speeding by local traffic cops wielding a radar gun. He quipped "if I knew what you were going to do with it, I'd never have invented it!"

I browsed the diverse range of objects in the other display cases, noting a pewter beggar's badge and the rather gruesome instrument of torture known as the branks (pictured left). Women accused of witchcraft were forcibly led around town wearing this device. Although Brechin had built its economic success upon fertile farmland, the industrial revolution introduced linen and paper to the mix. There was also a tobacco works. Bonnie Prince Charlie never visited Brechin but part of his army passed through the town in 1746 after the disastrous defeat at Culloden. A century earlier, military personnel from both sides were present in Brechin during the war between royalists and covenantors. The towns location between the Highlands and Lowlands gave it a strategical importance. Further back, King John Balliol was forced to surrender his crown to Edward I of England at Brechin Castle. It is said the Great Seal of Scotland was destroyed within the castle walls. A display of medieval weaponry introduced me to the calthrop. Often scattered on battlefields, they were designed so that one of the four spikes always faced upwards. Cavalry horses could be lamed if they stepped on this early form of landmine. The things that humans invent! I found the whole museum very interesting and purchased a couple of souvenirs before I left. To my utter dismay, I learned the Town House was set to close towards the end of the year. I looked around online and discovered that the Angus Alive Trust - who are tasked with operating cultural venues around the county - have decided to relinquish the lease on the property. Budget constraints immediately spring to mind but there are suggestions the opening hours were deliberately pared back after the pandemic to engineer a reduction in footfall, then use this as a justification for closure. Ironically the main reason for my visit had been the railway exhibition and exactly the same accusations were levelled at British Rail back in the 60s. Make the timetables unattractive, then say the service is not worth keeping because nobody is using it. I emailed an independent councillor quoted in a local newspaper article and she informed me an organisation known as the Friends of Brechin Town House are investigating the feasibility of taking over the running of the museum. Let's hope a solution can be found.