The true island spirit

Arran, in the Firth of Clyde, is an island whose charms vary with the seasons. In summer, the hills are verdant. By midwinter, there is a grandeur of rock and snow. These days, the attractions are enhanced by a better class of visitor. Time was, when it suffered from proximity to Glasgow, but the Gorbals-ites who want to start the morning with a cocktail of Buckfast and Irn-Bru now do so in Torremolinos.

So: gentle sounds, sweet airs and a formidable amount of history. For centuries, Arran was on the front line in the constant warfare between Norsemen, Gaels, the lowland kings of Scotland and aristocratic factions. It is near Campbell territory: never a safe place to be. When it came to looting, burning and slaughtering, the Campbells could have given tuition to the Vikings.

Today Brodick Castle is peaceful: a fortress turned into a great house. But its various castellans withstood many a siege until they were confronted by foes who could overmaster the mightiest warrior: the Inland Revenue and the National Trust. At one stage, the Dukes of Hamilton owned the castle and most of the island. Benefactors who have never been given enough credit, they encouraged crofters to move to Canada. The so-called Highland Clearances are one of the most misrepresented events in all history. Because of them, a splendid race of men whose abilities and energies had frequently been sacrificed in an unrelenting struggle for subsistence and survival had their prospects transformed. Across the ocean, they found land, in many cases leading to riches, plus the opportunity to help build a new nation, for it would be reasonable to describe much of Canada as Nova Scotia (v. Robertson Davies, passim).

Less fortunate Highlanders ended up in Glasgow’s urban squalor.