Posts

The earliest map that shows any level of detail for Banff or Macduff is dated AD 1600 and names the towns of Banff and Doun, also the settlements of Gellymill, Barnhill and Tarlair. But it also shows the shape of the river mouth, clearly indicating the bar coming from the Doun (Macduff) side.  This expanded estuary covers a much larger area than the river does today, and may well have included not just Greenbanks, but the low lying land where Duff House now stands.

The next image is the first indication of what is a harbour, essentially shared between both Banff and Macduff.  Unfortunately it is a century and a half later before there is another map that gives any detail of the area.  This is the map produced by General Roy in the aftermath of Culloden, to inform the government of potential routes for it’s army around Scotland.  The bar from the Macduff side is clearly still shown, with Greenbanks still submerged.  Duff House is now shown (“Braco’s House”) and the Temple of Venus.

The very detailed map of Macduff in 1763 shows not only the shape of the river, but clearly how the river mouth is used by substantial ships (of their day) as a harbour.  Interestingly this map also shows the piers of the first Banff Bridge, not reportedly completed until 1765.  This map was commissioned as part of the town planning for the new town of Doune – not named as Macduff until 1783.

Note: the next available maps are 1772 and 1775.  The former does not show any Banff Bridge, as it had been swept away in 1768. The Taylor & Skinner map of 1775 shows the new Banff Bridge.

There are also some images which clearly show the estuary, inland of the Bar, being used for shipping.  The colour drawing is 1839.  The black and white photos are late in the 1800’s.  By then there was a shipyard on the Banff side of the river mouth.

By eye-witness Anne

It was just a normal Saturday for me.  My mother woke me up in time for my school hockey match – a home game against Fraserburgh Academy.  I struggled out of bed and looked sleepily out of the window.  Dark clouds were scudding across the sky and rivulets of rain trickled down the windowpane.  Not a day for hockey or football but, unless the visiting teams had phoned to cancel the fixture, their hired bus would already be on its thirty mile journey to Banff Academy.  I would have to turn up at the school in order to find out.

Standing at the unsheltered bus stop, with the wind whipping around my legs and the rain soaking my thin trench-coat, I was sure that the whole thing would have been called off.  But as I rushed up the school brae, I saw, to my horror, a blue Alexander’s bus sitting at the gate.  Our opponents had arrived!  “The match is off” was the cry, as I staggered into the cloakroom.  Our teachers had apparently decided that even we hardy northeast scholars could not be expected to play football and hockey in such weather.  That was a relief!  The not-so-good news was that there had been no time to cancel our school lunch, which was an integral part of the sporting arrangements in this rural part of the world.  After all, we sometimes had to travel forty miles or more to our matches, and a school dinner was part of the deal.

                It was probably a mistake to make us hang around just for the sake of a school lunch.  But the food had been bought, the cook had arrived and it seemed the sensible thing to do.  How were our teachers to know that an extremely deep depression situated off the coast of Norway was rapidly heading our way?  Our school hall was completely surrounded by classrooms and, in this cosy cocoon, we entertained our visitors while the meal was being prepared.  It wasn’t until we ventured out to the canteen that the full force of the storm hit us.  We hastily gobbled up our mince and tatties, gathered our things together and set out for home.

                My friend and I raced down to the ‘Plainstones’ to catch the 12 o’clock bus.  Wet and windblown, we sank into our seats; but our relief was short-lived.  The bus driver didn’t appear to be taking his usual route.  The river Deveron had burst its banks, he explained, and he would have to take us through the private grounds of Duff House. 

Colour image of a postcard
Collie Gate – opposite to Collie Lodge now the cobbles in St Mary’s Car Park – was the entrance into the Duff House estate.

The caretaker at the lodge opened the big wrought-iron gates for us and we headed for the bridge over the already swollen river.  We should have turned left along the coast road but huge waves, created by the wind and exceptionally high tide, were crashing over the sea wall and rebounding off the steep hillside at the opposite side of the road.

Black and white map image with colour route overlay
The blue line being the route the bus took, through the private roads of Duff House, as Bridge St, Bridge Road and Princess Royal Park were underwater!

                Instead we turned right along the ‘Howe’, a tree-lined country road popular with Sunday strollers.  Not today, though!  The wind screeched through the bare branches of the birches, beeches, elms and rowans, bending them over until they were almost horizontal.  We crouched in our seats, terrified that, at any moment, a tree might get uprooted and come crashing down on top of us.  Once the driver had negotiated the corner at the cemetery, we knew we were out of the woods and that home was only a few minutes away.

                My mother wasn’t too surprised when the electricity went off in mid-afternoon.  “Power cables”, she said – in a knowledgeable sort of way.  At teatime, the gas for the cooker fizzled out as well.  Only a few years after my mother had acquired her fancy new domestic appliances, we were plunged back into the middle ages, with only a few candles and a coal fire for comfort.  At bedtime, I had to find the way to my attic room in the dark.  The wind was still rattling the panes of the dormer window and I pulled the covers over my head to shut it out.

                Sunday morning brought a curious calm.  Under a pale grey, watery sky, we ventured out to inspect the damage.  At the harbour, almost half the town seemed to be staring in bewilderment at a fishing boat sitting lopsidedly in the middle of the street.  Further along the road, the sea had completely undermined the foundations of the petrol station, which now dangled precariously on the rocks.  And the coastal road, which we should have travelled along the day before, resembled a boulder field.

                It is the custom for people to be drawn together at such times, united in commiseration or in simple curiosity.  And so, small groups of local folk were dotted here and there along the sea-front, viewing the devastation with disbelief.  On our meanderings, we discovered that the gasometer in Banff had been washed into the sea, which explained our lack of gas. 

Black and white image
Shows the gasometer that used to be at Banff Harbour.

I also met some of the football boys, who had missed the last bus out of Banff at lunchtime on Saturday.  They had apparently decided to walk back home and had been forced to struggle over the Hill O’Doune to escape the rising tide.  Crawling on hands and knees, clinging on to bushes and to each other, they managed to avoid being blown away and reached the relative safety of Macduff with nothing more than a few scratches and a thorough soaking.

                By evening the electricity supply had been restored but, with no prospect of gas in the forthcoming weeks, my mother’s shiny ‘New World’ cooker now supported a pair of decidedly ‘old world’ Primus stoves.  With our immediate needs taken care of, our thoughts now turned to the outside world.  We had been cut off from the rest of civilization for two whole days and we had no idea how the rest of Britain had fared.

                It was Monday morning before we became aware of the full impact of the storm.  Newspapers and radio reported that; in East Anglia, 2,500 square miles of land lay under water and 307 people had perished in the floods at King’s Lynn; one sixth of the Netherlands was also under water with more than 2000 lives lost.  In the south-west of Scotland, 133 people had been drowned when the British Rail ferry, Princess Victoria, had sunk in Belfast Lough on her crossing from Stranraer to Larne.  Much closer to home, six men of the Fraserburgh lifeboat drowned when their boat was caught by a giant wave and capsized at the harbour mouth.  The seas were so fierce that it was impossible for any of the witnesses to enter the sea to rescue them.  For us and others around Britain, the forces of nature had taken their toll.

Photo of old yellowed map showing the River Deveron and the piers of the first Banff Bridge.

The present Banff Bridge was opened in 1779, although not formally signed off until 17th June 1780.  Some of the original drawings of this Smeaton designed bridge, widened in 1881, do exist.  Many people are however aware that the present bridge replaced a previous one but little is known about it.

The Roy map of 1747 gives a sketch of both Banff and Down (although the latter is not named) and it does show a ford across the river.  This appears to be the King’s Ford, located 1350 feet south of the present bridge, just upstream of the mouth of the Gelly Burn on the Macduff side; part of the track from this ford to Down is still traceable on the ground.

A bit later there was also another ford utilising the west end of Scurry Island – the island just round the first major bend to the south – which joined the track past what is now Kirkside farm.

Use of the fords however was quite difficult and certainly dangerous; the tracks to them were also reported as not easy to navigate in wet weather – or until the 2nd Earl Fife undertook to improve them if the land was passed to him – which only took place in 1777.  The alternative was the use of a ferry, but some of the arguments used to make the case for a bridge show how dangerous the ferry was too: “not a single year passed without some unfortunate occurrence at this ferry”; “inconvenience to the public”; “frequent stoppage of mails”.  One of the reported incidents was 12th January 1739 when several people lost their lives after the ferry overturned.

The case for a bridge over the river was several decades in the making, and the earliest known detailed map of either Banff or Down (not named Macduff until 1783), dated October 1763, does show the beginnings of the first bridge.  This unique map shows the first bridge had three piers in the river, plus one on each bank – hence four arches compared to the present seven arched bridge.  It was largely paid for by the Government and is reported to have cost between five and six thousand pounds.  It opened in June 1765.

However great it was to stay dry crossing the river – remembering it was the main route to Aberdeen – on 17th September 1768 there was a large storm, and a huge spate of water came down the river.  This undermined the west, Banff side, pier, and the bridge collapsed, although fortunately without loss of life.

Unfortunately the ferry that had to be resumed was not so safe; in January 1773 seven lives were lost when the ferry was carried out into Banff Bay.

Smeaton decided that the new bridge should be located “the breadth of itself further up”.  Not particularly clear but the 1763 map allows some scale measurements to be taken and it would appear the old bridge was slightly to seaward of the present bridge.  The stones from the old bridge were re-used in the new bridge when work started in 1772, much of the rest coming from the quarry now at Bridge garage.

Greyscale image of the wedding ceremony

27th July.  Louise and Alexander’s marriage service started at noon, 131 years ago today.  Quite an auspicious marriage for Banff and Macduff, as Alexander was the Sixth Earl Fife with his main home being Duff House, and Louise was the Princess Royal, the daughter of the then Prince and Princess of Wales.  Prince Edward became King Edward VII in 1901.

The ceremony took place in the Private Chapel at Buckingham Palace, attended by most of the British Royal Family as well as royalty from Germany, Denmark and Greece.

In the main picture in this Story, the foreground characters from the left, are some of the seven bridesmaids, Alexander, Louise, Prince Edward of Wales, Princess Alexandra of Wales and Queen Victoria.

The other photo in this article is a large silver two-handle cup that stands 24 inches high, has an engraved representation of Duff House and the couple’s coat of arms, and bears the inscription “Presented to H.R.H. the Princess Louise of Wales and The Earl of Fife, K.T. on the occasion of their marriage by the Inhabitants of the Royal Burgh of Banff, July 27, 1889”.  A very handsome gift indeed.

A commemorative special Illustrated London News was published just four days later, and bearing in mind that this publication at that time did not use photos but hand drawn engravings – and there are sixteen of the actual wedding itself in this edition, one being a double page, and the rest at least half a page – is quite remarkable.  Additionally this publication has several dozen engravings of other views, with about a dozen being of Banff and Macduff including Duff House; hence it is a great source for the heritage of the area.

Alexander was first made Duke of Fife and Marquess of Macduff two days later, and, unusually, in 1900 he received a second set of Letters Patent which amended the 1889 ones to allow the Duke’s titles to pass to his and Louise’s daughters Alexandra and Maud, as there was not a male heir. 

The 1st Duke of Fife died in 1912 from pleurisy likely as a result of complications from being shipwrecked off the coast of Morocco while on a cruise on the ss Delhi; the rest of his family all survived. Louise, Duchess of Fife is reputed not to have favoured Duff House, and hence the gift of the estate to the people of Banff and Macduff in 1907.  She is of course the person behind the name of the sports and community club and making Banff and Macduff the only place in the world with two Royal golf courses.  Louise died in 1931, and her remains are with her husband’s in St Ninian’s Chapel at Mar Lodge.

Colour photo of James Duff dressed in his road cloak and fur.
Black and white navigational chart showing Macduff harbour and immediate surroundings

Macduff Harbour has had four Lighthouses, the first installed between 1842 and 1845, and moved three times.

Black and white text
Greyscale drawing of Macduff harbour showing three large sailing cargo vessels, with the church on the hill
Grey scale image of upside down conical urn on a stone

One of the first tourists that recorded their trip around Scotland was Thomas Pennant; 250 years ago last week, 14th August in 1769, he visited Banff and recorded a bronze age urn found on the Hill of Doune.

Colour photo showing the re-created corner of the now demolished Duff House east wing showing a bronze plaque and a poppy and forget-me-not wreath

It’s Monday morning, 22nd July 1940 – 79 years ago. The day is just getting going, just after nine o’clock in the morning – another great summer morning. A lone Heinkel bomber disturbs the peace….