ON THEORIES: Cryptic messages and hopeful visions of Norse roots

Shetland and the Shetlanders written by W. P. Livingstone, was published by Thomas Nelson & Sons Ltd, London, in 1947. It was a popular book sent to Shetlanders who had left their homeland, and read by those still at home. We had a copy in Brisbane, Australia, sent by my grandmother to her son in 1947, as if to remind him of his roots. My copy was purchased in Shetland, in 2018, and is inscribed 'Jell Anderson, July 1947.' It seems that the small book was an instant hit, a remembrance of home for those away, and an explanation, a summary, to confirm life at home for those who stayed, as seen by an outsider, W. P. Livingstone, F.R.S.G.S. - Fellow of the Royal Scottish Geographical Society.

A paragraph on page 66 of this little publication has always been a personal highlight of this book that tells about the Shetland Islands and its inhabitants, then a mysterious place and people in an unknown and remote region of the UK. It was still being described as ‘moon country’ by an Aberdonian in 1970. In this block of text on page 66, Livingstone talks about what he says are the Norse origins of the Shetlanders. He tells how, when out 'one evening,' walking, as it turns out, up to Crussa Field, on Unst, he 'came upon' a cottage with a typical 'Norse' woman standing in the doorway, looking as though she came straight 'out of the sagas.' Livingstone is more interested in his ambitions, his own thoughts and theories, than in the details of his location, noting only that it is 'isolated.'

Unst, Yell and Fetlar Islands

The Shetland Islands include Foula to the west, the Out Skerries to the east, and Fair Isle to the south.

Unst is the most northerly island.

Shetland (in red)

The Shetland Islands are rarely shown in their true location (see above)

The islands are frequently included on maps to one side in a separate box, as a cartographer's convenience

Where one would expect Norse blood to persist is amongst the crofters in isolated districts, and there one does come across men and women with the characteristics of the ancient physique and character. One evening I came upon a solitary cottage on a hillside. Framed in the doorway stood the figure of a woman who might have stepped out of the sagas. She had strong but refined features, a humourous mouth and smiling eyes. With quiet courtesy she led the way into a living room of superior character where a sister of similar appearance was knitting a lace shawl of the finest texture. On leaving, I recalled that on the hilltop above were the remains of the ancient stone circle where the first Norse Althing was held. It was strange to reflect that it would be past this cottage the criminals sentenced to death would flee to the sanctuary at the foot of the hill. Crosses were cut in the turf to mark the graves of those who failed and were cut down. So Crucifiel the hill is called to this day.

Crussa Field, Unst

Crussa Field

The paragraph is almost cryptic in its messages. It does not mention Unst, but 'Crucifiel,' or Crussa Field as the maps label it today. The 'field of crosses' is in central Unst, the most northerly of the Shetland Islands. Crussa Field is the hill above Balisata, originally spelt 'Balliasta.' The nearby burn, the Burn of Balliasta, keeps the old spelling. The name is so close to that of the Roman missile-projecting, rock-throwing machine, the ballista, that, given the story of the local law, one is tempted to see this as the origin of the regional name: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2015/06/tingwall-kirk.html Many place names are repeated across Shetland, but there is only one Baliasta, the rock-throwing region between the Althing and the 'sanctuary' or ‘refuge,' and only one Gue too.

Burn of Baliasta - the burn flows into the Loch of Cliff

Baliasta Kirk

Livingstone mentions correctly that the site of the first Althing in Shetland is above Crussa Field, and alludes to the practice of allowing the convicted criminal to run from this site to the sanctuary of the Baliasta kirk at the bottom of the hill, with the risk of being stoned to death on the way, or being pardoned if the kirk was reached. If killed on the downhill run, the body would be buried at the place it fell, with the location being marked in the form of a cross: hence the name, field of crosses. It seems that many of those convicted were unsuccessful in their attempt to reach the kirk that remains as a bold ruin today, surrounded by its ancient graveyard. Livingstone is casual with his words: 'crosses were cut in the turf.' The slopes of Crussa Field are not peat lands; just what the crosses over the graves were made of is not clear. The slopes of Crussa Field are filled with boulders of all sizes, but it seems unlikely to have been stones. Dig a hole anywhere on the slopes above Baliasta, and you will hit a rock. Maybe the soil was piled up over the grave and shaped in the form of a cross?

Baliasta - Auld Gue on top right

It is unlikely that any crosses were seen by Livingstone in 1946/7, as reports record that they were all but gone by the turn of the 19th century, with the last glimpses being feint markings seen from the air. If they had been stones, they would still be visible, by eye or radar. As for bones being excavated as evidence, the soils on Unst are acid, meaning that all physical remains eventually disappear. We are, as with many matters, left only with historical records, the his-stories. One of these tells of an exorcism that was held in the Baliasta kirk in the 1600s. It must have been a lively community centre - see: A Description of the Shetland Islands Samuel Hibbert 1822.

Baliasta Kirk

Livingstone reflects as he leaves the 'solitary cottage on a hillside,' how criminals must have run past this ill-defined location which can be deduced to be Baliasta. One can assume that the 'woman' had invited him in for tea: 'with quiet courtesy she led the way into a living room.' The cottage is of particular interest because, from Livingstone's sketchy description, it must have been my grandmother's cottage. This little building stands high on the hill below Crussa Field at Baliasta. The 'figure of a woman' would have been my grandmother. She had a reputation for offering a welcome, always having something to give the visitor to eat and drink. The 'sister of similar appearance' must have been my father's aunt.# Father was born in this cottage. My grandmother, Agnes, was what one might today call 'a real character.' In 1946, after the war, my uncle built an annex onto the cottage, to provide it with the latest amenities: running water, bathroom, laundry, WC, and gas lighting. Maybe Livingstone saw the place prior to this work starting.

Typical Norse costume

Some describe her as a dramatist. Agnes dressed every day in two traditional, moorit, (natural brown), hap shawls, shawls knitted from two-ply wool, not the legendary one-ply lace that could be pulled through a wedding ring. This does not make them any less beautiful or useful. One hap shawl was wrapped around her waist, the other around her shoulders. When not in this garb, she dressed in black, as a sign of perpetual mourning for her late husband: some say that it was a gesture that was greatly exaggerated in her usual, over-dramatic, theatrical manner. She was tiny, about four foot six inches tall, (we can tell this from the length of her bed), but a bundle of energy: she was a tigress by reputation. Her sarcasm can be seen in her pencilled comments on the back of old photographs. One scribble refers to her sister-in-law as "Her Royal Highness" as she is photographed standing by the copper boiler on washing day under the tank stand at her house at New Farm, Brisbane. Agnes dominated father and mother in Australia, or tried to, from her remote Shetland home, even having a say in the names of the children, as if it might be her business. I was to be called Thule, but ended up with Agnes's maiden name, perhaps to placate her. Maybe Livingstone saw her small stature, remarkable energy, and quirky dress as something he interpreted as being from the sagas: 'the ancient physique and character.' It would certainly have been a different, determined sight, even in those times.

Women in Shetland shawls - 'out of the sagas'

Norse dress

My grandfather died young, apparently being sickly, spending most of his time in bed, reportedly suffering with infected teeth. My grandmother, nee Spence, my Christian name, had three sisters who lived nearby at Langasta, a cottage at the bottom of the hill.# It would not have been unusual for her to have a spinster sister, Barbara or Minnie, visit the home at Gue. The family was very close. Granny, as we knew her by name and only by photographs, raised four boys in the cottage at Gue. One went to South Africa; another, my father, went to Australia; and two stayed on Unst, one to be the crofter, the other, the local entrepreneur.

Auld Gue

The old Free Kirk and its manse - Auld Gue in distance on hill just to the right of the kirk

One might think that this analysis is mere speculation, hopeful guessing. How can one be sure that Livingstone met my granny? The old cottage at Gue not only still stands unusually proudly on the hillside, as noted by Livingstone, (see: https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/335663 ), but it was discovered that it also had interiors that were of 'superior character.' We cleaned out the cottage that had been left unoccupied for some forty years after my grandmother's death in 1950. The gloating boast of the daughter-in-law was that no one would ever live in the cottage again, such was their gritty relationship. She nearly got her wish. The building had been used as a store and a byre for years once the roof of the nearby byre had fallen in. Grandmother's belongings were scattered everywhere, untouched, complete with tinned food in the pantry. Everything of value had been culled by visitors over the passing years. Unwanted clothes, bedding, books, crockery, cutlery, etc. were still there, damp and mouldy, left strewn around, trampled by the treasure hunters. The roof had, in part, been blown off in the hurricane of the early 1990s, only a few years before we started work on it. The remnants of the tilting dining table and the six carver chairs were still there, along with the frame of the chaise lounge. The latter seemed to have been a prop for my grandmother's performances.

Baliasta in snow - Auld Gue is top left

Reports told us of many clocks and musical instruments that had now all gone, along with all of the images in the frames and quality crockery. Broken and shattered glass remained in the cluttered mess of granny's clothing and bedding, along with marvellous, sad fragments of Claris Cliff items, and broken terrines that pointed to a choice selection of tasteful pieces and an elite lifestyle, one different to that of the struggling crofter. The pedal organ remained as well as the stories of thundering hymns in the early morning to exorcise the effects of my uncle's hangover; or was it to just annoy; to chastise? This was a strictly Christian, church-going household; Sundays were sacrosanct. All of these elements suggested a 'superior' interior, not seen in any other nearby Baliasta dwelling, or Crussafield hillside residence. Which other cottage in Baliasta might have had a Paris guide dated late 1800s? What exactly was Gue in the community?

Auld Gue is on the left

Shetland croft house

Traditional thatching

The original 'Victorian' stair detailing

There was a quality of sophistication that was further confirmed by the lath-and-plaster finishes and classical timber joinery detailing. The old cottage at Gue was no mere low croft house crafted from stones, driftwood and oats. It had height, rooms of lath-and-plaster and Baltic pine linings, with pitch pine joinery, trims, and mouldings, and ceilings of up to eight feet high. The main bedroom was painted ‘Virgin Mary’ blue; the secondary bedroom room was lined in Baltic pine and wallpapered. The roof was Balahoulish slate, not the typical tar paper or thatch. Academics say that the cottage form was imported from Scotland and has no integral Shetland vernacular roots, although it is now the symbol of habitation in the isles that have, alarmingly, demolished all but two of its traditional croft buildings: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/12/shetland-vernacular-buildings.html leaving the croft house museum at Dunrossness and the other historical centre at Burra the only surviving examples of buildings that were once commonplace. It is a glaring shame that this has happened: it seems to be a new version of the clearances. The book on vernacular housing by Tait, see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/12/shetland-vernacular-buildings.html has a 1914 photograph of a croft house on its cover, the last inhabited of its type. It was demolished in 1996. So, as late as the 1990s, croft houses were still being demolished, when the world was learning more and more about the significance of its past. It is no credit to anyone that this has happened.

Ian Tait Curator, Shetland Museum

Vernacular cottage

The Shetland Museum's croft house, Dunrossness

Easthouse, Burra

The popular image of a traditional Shetland cottage - not the vernacular dwelling

All of this evidence reinforces the identity of the place Livingstone had stumbled upon, alone on the hillside as he wandered up to Crussa Field one evening, perhaps close to midsummer given the late light. He would have been using the track illustrated on the old maps, a path located to the west of the current road, a route that approached the cottage on the west, through the gateway in the dyke wide enough for the cart with pony and peats to get through. The pedestrian approach would have branched off from this track after passing over the ford, to lead up to the axial garden gate that opens on to a central garden path aligning with the porch door; a path fringed with old Shetland daffodils that still bloom every year. The name Gue means ford in French, and seems to be the origin of the croft’s name. Violin in Norwegian seems too much of a strain to be a place name when there is a defining ford. The cottage is now approached from the east; the western gateway has been closed off with a stone wall infill between the original drystone piers: there is very little other evidence of the old track remaining, but the ford is still there. Animals and birds still drink from it.

Baliasta (Auld Gue can be seen in the top right)

Sadly, it seems that Livingstone was misled. In his enthusiasm to see the Norse heritage in everything, the confirmation of his theory, grandmother and her sister must have played along and enriched his vision. Such games fit her character, her cheeky 'humourous mouth and smiling eyes.' She would have delighted in entertaining the stranger with the story that 'They were . . . of pure Norse descent, and the croft had been in the family possession since the Norse era.' No, it has not been; it is not so.

Auld Gue is on the hill in the distance between the old kirk (Free Church) and its manse, now ruins

The old cottage at Gue, now called Auld Gue to differentiate it from the newer house built in the 1950’s, was built in 1852 by the mason, Charles Thomson for John Jamieson. Both names have been found scribbled as bold, freehand script in red chalk on the timbers in the house, as delivery markers, a system that is still used today when the name of the person to receive the materials is scrawled on the outside of the bundle. John was married to Andrina Thomson, Charles' sister. Stories tell that the first residents were married in the cottage shortly after its completion. Historical records in the Unst Heritage Centre confirm the date as 1852. The name Gue means fiddle in old Norse, but the French 'ford' is preferred. There is a ford directly in front of the garden gate, at the well that, in spite of being filled in, still remains a wet crossing today where geese and sheep come to drink. Maybe the Knowe of Gue was named after this ford that could have been on the path taken by the convicted seeking refuge and forgiveness. Place names frequently were descriptive of some local feature, e.g. Millburn on the south of voe at Baltasound, that is beside the burn that drove the adjacent mill that still exists today. Reports have it that the Althing was eventually moved to Tingwall, but neither the timing, nor the future use of the Unst site after this move, is clear.

Loch of Cliff (Hermaness in the background)

Oral history records that the Jamiesons came from Clibberswick, on the eastern side of the island. From here they moved to Cliff, the slopes beside the loch of that name. Maybe it was a part of the clearances - we have been assured that there were clearances on Unst, to ensure the history is never forgotten* - but from Cliff they moved to Gue, and built a cottage at the ford. Every cottage had its well. The French connection with Shetland is the pressganging of the locals by the French navy, that, unlike the British navy, had the manners and goodwill to return the survivors to their homes after their service in the wars. Maybe the word came back with the soldiers? The island men were wanted for their skills as seamen.

Looking east to Baliasta over Loch of Cliff - Auld Gue is just off centre

These various locations of the Jamieson family are all recorded in the census data. The roots are not anchored at Gue beyond 170 years. So it seems clear that the story of the croft being 'in the family possession since the Norse era' is fanciful. That there might have been a croft on the site in the Norse period is something that can be confirmed, as local reports have it that there are the remains of an old dwelling just downhill, to the east of the cottage. Where there was a spring, there was a croft: it seems to have been a rule right up to the time before water was reticulated to each dwelling in the 1960s, along with sewers and power. Things remained fairly basic in Shetland until the oil was discovered in the North Sea. It seems that Livingstone was told what he wanted to hear, and saw what he wanted to see. He must have left a happy man, having his theories endorsed: 'Norse blood . . . persist(s) . . . amongst the crofters in isolated districts.'

Auld Gue form Crussa Field, looking south - the downhill run to the sanctuary of the Baliasta Kirk (in the distance)

Was it really grandmother, or is this only hopeful, wishful thinking? That she might be standing in the doorway looking out at the stranger walking up the hill towards her is typical of the stories about her. The cottage on the hill supervises the Baliasta area. It has a five-mile vista south along the centre of the island, and one of about one mile to the east, towards Baltasound, and west, the location of the Loch of Cliff and the hills of Woodwick.

Baliasta over the Loch of Cliff

Burn of Balliasta

Grandmother checked everything going on around her. The porch has two wooden brackets with felt lining mounted inside their cradle supports on the wall. It took years to find out that these were not coat hooks, but had been specially fabricated supports for her telescope that she used to survey the local goings on. She was a sticky beak, a busy body. Maybe it is the lack of trees that makes Shetlanders, allows them to be, interested in the goings on of others, as each home seems to have its pair of binoculars to survey the vistas even today. It took a couple more years to discover that the telescope still existed in my cousin's house, a little bit of memorabilia.

Not hooks but bespoke telescope brackets beside the porch door

Livingstone would have been watched from afar as he approached, through this instrument. The postman of the time, the late Peter Mouat, when he had retired, once told the story of how he had seen grandmother watching him approach from some distance, only for him to discover her pretending to be startled from her sleep on the chaise lounge by his appearance at the door. Such a 'performance-orientated' lady could easily be seen to be the one spinning yarns about Norse roots. Yes, Livingstone is talking about grandmother and Auld Gue: everything in his cryptic paragraph points to it.

Crussa Field

On Livingstone's assumption of 'Norse blood,' the recent DNA survey of the UK revealed that Shetlanders come from the Viking and Pictish gene pool, close to 50/50. Whether granny had Viking or Pictish roots, or both, remains to be confirmed. Her height might suggest Pictish origins. Livingstone was maybe at least half right.

The real surprise with this text is that such a small paragraph in a book can hold such a wealth of references, such depth, while exposing the concern that we can so easily be led astray by wanting to see and hear what we want to believe: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2014/04/seeing-what-we-believe-idyllic-visions.html It is always something one has to be wary of, but seeing this 'woman' as granny seems to make a 'fit' with fact and oral history that is too complete to be a personal, 'preferred' error. The little things, these seemingly insignificant bits and pieces of our living, its intimate detail and casual chat, are important in history, in bringing it back to life: in understanding it. Only too often do we leave things simplistically schematic, as diagrams, rough sketches that can only give us, at best, crude hints at reality; at worst, mere errors, make-believe that supports false theories, hopeful visions like those of Livingstone. Rigour is required in all aspects of our being, and this involves questions and confrontations. As Karl Popper pointed out, conjectures need refutations to continually test them, to challenge them, and reveal their integrity or otherwise.

Baliasta looking east to Baltasound

Baliasta kirkyard

*

The lady now living in Langasta, Agnes's family home, made a point of emphasising that there had been clearances: " Don't let anyone ever tell you there were no clearances." The Spences had been moved out of beautiful Woodwick, on the slopes opposite Cliff, on the other side of the loch, to Baliasta. The ruins remain for those who explore these steep hills today to ponder. Life in those times was self- centred, being structured as organic clusters of croft houses, stores and byres that were self-sufficient. This fragmentation and identification of place remains today, with the tiny island of Unst still having identifiable settlements and social centres. Some locals even argue that different places have different accents, on an island 12 x 5 miles, such was the isolation and identity in past eras. An old map of Unst seen in Edinburgh showed the island crudely divided up into three parts, the three parishes, yet a further set of larger scaled divisions that remains to this day. This complexity of place and the commitment to it always astonishes. That minute distances can stand as great gulfs in social and cultural matters always amazes one used to the vast expanses of a "she'll be right, mate" Australia.

#

Agnes had five brothers and three sisters, Barbara, Martha, and Willamina. Martha died young. The sister referred to by Livingstone would have been either Barbara or Minnie, as Willamina was known: see - https://www.bayanne.info/Shetland/getperson.php?personID=I63235&tree=ID1

NOTES: 

On theories: history tells us that the origin of the cathedral ceiling is the boat that was inverted to be used as a roof. Examples of boat-roofs can be seen in Shetland to this day, but it is really no proof that the theory is correct. It might be inspired by the boat used for shelter; but it might also come from the boat as a Christian symbol: see – https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/03/skaw-boat-house.html 
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2017/02/ulvik-church-norway-tradition-in-timber.html 
and 
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-kirk-of-st-nicholas-aberdeen-twin.html

On the little bits of history that remain in the cottage, there was yet another mystery. The telescope story was eventually told to us by father’s cousin, and explained the special brackets that we had supposed were coat hooks, in spite of the felt. He also demystified the numerous, strange nail markings at the top of the stair that were such a puzzle. After formulating many theories to interpret this oddity, none of which appeared to be satisfactory, we were eventually told that these once fixed a piece of canvas that stretched across the top of the stair to wrap around the newel post as a safety barrier for the boisterous young boys. Four strapping young men were raised in this little place, ‘two-up, two-down.'