A NOSAS account of the week’s excavation by Iris Longworth and Cathy Dagg.
Cathy:
Every archaeological event only takes place after meticulous planning (in theory) but the Achilty crannog dig had many more logistial hurdles than the average dig, involving boats, lifejackets, radios, risk assessments, contingency plans for bad weather. As it was, we couldn’t have been luckier with the weather. Where I had gloomily expected strong winds, rain and low temperatures, we had a flat calm loch and glorious sunshine most days. So nobody got chilled, we didn’t have to shelter under the tarp and water levels, for the time of year, were probably quite low.
What tools would be required? We boated across picks, spades, bars, the usual boxes of small tools and no doubt we all had trowels in our back pockets, nearly all of which came back unused. Luckily nearly all of the stones that needed shifting could relatively easily be lifted by one person and were not deeply embedded. As for careful trowelling? Not needed on this dig!
Day 1: Saturday 20th September 2025
Iris:
Day 1 at the Loch Achilty Crannog Dig and in glorious autumnal weather the team of seven experts and volunteers, headed by Cathy Dagg, had a pleasant cruise out to the small island on the southwest end of Loch Achilty.
James McComas towing “Haggis” the little yellow rowing boat, full of gear, behind his canoe.
Anne, team member number eight, remained on shore as support via walkie-talkie whilst also liaising with the public as the NOSAS representative. Loch Achilty turned out to be a popular destination for numerous visitors, so Anne was able to tell the visitors about the activities on the island. So throughout the day, wild swimmers, canoeists, and paddle boarders came over to say “hi!”.
The Cistercian abbey of Kinloss was established in 1150 by David I of Scotland. Kinloss Abbey remained a central focus of monastic life in the northeast of Scotland until the reformation of 1560. Following the Reformation the final abbot, Walter Reid, commenced the selling off its monastic lands and the fabric of the monastery for building material; effectively turning the abbey into a standing quarry. The systematic removal of stone for recycling provided building material for many local civic and agricultural buildings. This continued until the 1840s, when a public outcry was successful in preventing further destruction.
Little remains of this once expansive abbey, only the south transept and the west and south cloister walls remain upstanding, Figure 2. These are situated within the oldest part of the current graveyard, while south of the graveyard are the remains of the Abbot’s house; currently undergoing preservation work by the Kinloss Abbey Trust.
Having lived nearby to Kinloss Abbey for many years and having been a Trustee of the abbey for the past four years, my burning questions about the site are, put simply, just how big was the abbey complex and are there any archaeological remains to be found?
Figure 2. Aerial view of Kinloss Abbey. Google Earth 2025.
The Google Earth image above shows the abbey bounded by the Kinloss Burn to the south and west, this was canalised during the improvements period. Also, the extension to graveyard to the east and the improvement farm buildings to the west would seem to be the obvious areas for the monastic complex. However, Cistercian monasteries of similar scale and importance across the country have far larger footprints than these two areas, and surly the expanded complex couldn’t have been neatly covered by these later additions? Also, the topography of the area would indicate that a likely area for part of the complex would be to the northeast of the graveyard, on the top of the rise. This is clearly seen in Figure 3, a LiDAR image produced by Michael Sharpe. The red line shows the 4m contour indicating the obvious promontory of land, a classic example of Cistercian monastic landscapes.
Figure 3. LiDAR image highlighting the 4m contour. Image by M. Sharpe.Continue reading →
The romantic era brought with it a passion for creating paths and indeed networks of ‘walks’ leading to scenic features, notably riverbanks, waterfalls and belvederes. These showed off the extent and natural beauties of landowners’ properties, and can be seen as status symbols confirming that the owners were au fait with the spirit of the times. They also of course provided exclusive and appealing recreational opportunities for owners’ families and guests – stimulating appetites and conversation. They would suggest aesthetic appreciation, encouraging leisure pursuits from sketching, watercolours, and philosophising to poetry and of course wooing.
Making such paths was in those days very cheap, and would provide employment during the off-season. All the land was grazed and any woodland exploited, so that the terrain would have been easier to cut through than now; some paths may have upgraded animal and human trods. Paths would be surfaced and drained where necessary to afford dry, mud-free passage. Footbridges and railings might be basic or more ornamental. On grander estates, the scene was commonly improved with grottoes, pavilions and towers, whether functional or follies. And path-making went hand-in-hand with landscaping, creating or restoring woodlands, and lining the walks with ornamental plantings. Regrettably, these majored on the invasive rhododendron ponticum, valued for its hardiness, and perhaps providing gamebird cover (many ‘pheasantries’ are mapped).
Figure 1 The waterfall at Raven’s Rock in Findon Burn, from the ravine walk; steps go close up left side; stone abutments for footbridges survive above and below the falls
Amenity paths in the Highlands – sporting and permanent estates
While the path-making craze manifested widely across southern Scotland, England, and indeed parts of Europe, in the Highlands the picture is confused by the advent of the sporting estates. Many of these created extensive systems of “stalkers’ paths” (then known as pony paths) – see blogpost on that subject – many of which will have served recreational purposes as well. But a few of these estates also created path networks purely for recreational and aesthetic enjoyment – notably Sir John Fowler’s at Braemore, where today only fragments survive in Corrieshalloch Gorge (with its viewpoint footbridge). Bear in mind that these amenity paths were only enjoyed for the few months of the ‘Highland Season’ and were primarily for the entertainment of guests staying for lengthy periods.
This blogpost addresses a rather different category of path-making, on the permanently-inhabited estates of the more fertile parts of the Highlands, and in particular the cultivated fringes on the Old Red Sandstone around the Moray Firth. These paths were, by contrast, intended for year-round use, by the owners’ households, day visitors, and staying guests. Indeed, travellers’ journals often record requests to visit houses and their grounds, which could of course be explored via these designed paths – the rural equivalent of applying to see a private art collection in a city. All part of upholding one’s position in society – or especially, making a name if a parvenu.
The emergence of the estates – Roy’s Map
Roy’s great map of ~1750 strikingly depicts a nascent pattern of improved estates around these shores, the Big Hoose often already having an emparked nucleus within a core of rectangular tree-framed fields – a curiously colonial effect, with stockaded ‘plantations’ dotting a still-open landscape. Rather surprisingly, this pattern is better developed around the Cromarty Firth than along the south side of the Moray Firth, where there is nothing of substance between the great estate of Culloden and Brodie, and a void west of Inverness save for Bunchrew. This is despite the greater distance from the Cromarty Firth lands to Inverness as Highland capital, and the lack of a through road – possibly access was easier by sea, or land quality was more favourable (less sandy), or perhaps this was simply a quirk of clan/ownership history ?
Figure 2 – Roy’s Map of 1750 – the remarkable cluster of emparked estates already dominating the Conon valleys (1-Castle Leod, 2-Brahan, 3-Coul, 4-Fairburn) contrasts with absence in the Beauly valleys and Firth, bar 5-Bunchrew; on the inner Black Isle only 6-Rosehaugh and 7-Findon stand out.Continue reading →
The large-scale excavation of Clachtoll broch in north west Sutherland took place in 2017 and 2018 with intensive post-excavation analysis continuing for several years and culminating in the production of the full report in 2022 – Clachtoll: An Iron Age Broch Settlement in Assynt, North-West Scotland, edited by Graeme Cavers and published by Oxbow. Our 2017 blog posts on the excavations at Clachtoll can be seen here and here. However, as always with a dig, just as some questions were answered by the excavation and analysis, a whole range of new ones emerged!
The broch was home to a farming family. They reared cattle, sheep, possibly goats, and a few pigs. The cattle and sheep/goats provided milk which was used to make butter and cheese. The animals were kept until they reached their full size, grazing nearby and, in the winter, eating fodder grown on the farm and seaweed gathered from the shore. Once they had reached optimum size, they were slaughtered for their meat. Beef and lamb/mutton formed a much larger part of their diet than pork.
The primary arable crop grown by the people of the broch was hulled barley. Hulled barley, unlike naked barley, has a tough husk that needs to be removed before the grain can be cooked or ground for flour. Numerous quernstones attest to the grinding of grain at the broch.
Two quern stones exposed during excavations at the broch.
The discovery of large numbers of agricultural tools, extensive stores of grain, a knocking stone and several quern stones, together with both wild and domesticated animal bone made it abundantly clear that this was predominantly a farm, but what kind of a farm? How large and varied an area was being utilised, what were the farming strategies of the Broch occupants and how did all that compare with the evidence from other broch sites of the same period?
The knocking stone, still full of grain when originally unearthed.Continue reading →
For Saturday 12th July, I had volunteered at short notice to help with the survey of underwater timbers at the Loch Achilty crannog and I was all ready for day on the ocean waves, then at the last minute on Saturday morning the task was called off. My hasty but long planned Plan B was a recce of the Dava Way (https://davaway.org.uk/) by Ebike starting at Forres. The Dava Way (the Way hereon) is a medium distance path mostly along the old railway track-bed between Forres and Grantown on Spey. I had looked at parking in Forres previously and I knew to park at Sanquhar Pond on a quiet road. The Dava Way is well waymarked from that car park to the start of the Way proper.
I cannot recommend the first 4 miles or so, heading south. There is a nasty diversion through forestry of about 2 miles with a dreadful surface of large stones, some as big as buckets and tree roots up to 4” high crossing the path. Once past Dallas Dubh distillery, the old track-bed surface improves and there are glimpses of countryside through trees. The Way begins to open up more after Edinkillie Public Hall, and eventually you break out into the open.
The purpose of this blog though is to say that I had years ago discussed Dava Way expeditions to visit archaeology near the track with George Grant, a founder member of NOSAS (and an early chairman). George was the only person I knew who had frequently travelled on the line as a young man. Well, those expeditions never happened, but lots of other things did!
On Saturday I went as far as Bogeny Bridge, about 12 miles from Forres but I had been distracted along the Way by an interpretation board inviting travellers to go up to Logie Windfarm for the experience, which was indeed worth it. Also, it was fearsomely warm day. By the time I reached Bogeny Bridge I had been cycling for a couple of miles with burnt trees and moorland on both sides of the track, the result of the massive wildfire at Dava a week previously (see BBC News). I could see areas still smoking in the distance. Videos and photos attached. The aftermath of the fire is quite dramatic and it looks like all of the prominent round topped hill called Knock of Braemoray has been completely burned. A disaster for wildlife but the impact on archaeology is significant also. Knock of Braemoray has 3 field systems and one hut circle marked on the OS (see HER NJ04SW0002 and NJ04SW0003).
My two-week UHI field school gave me an experience I shan’t forget. I was grateful for the opportunity to join such a great bunch of people in the context of examining one of my favourite historic structures, a broch. Digging to reveal answers to an ever-growing list of academic questions around the Iron Age society that built it on the beautiful isles of Orkney.
The Cairns is found on the eastern side of South Ronaldsay near Windwick Bay. A stunning rural location. The site itself was “under the plough”; sleeping unobtrusively beneath the ground before 2006 after geophysical survey led to excavation.
As the crew working within the broch wore hard hats as a health and safety measure, I was helped to imagine, strangely, that I was working in a construction site and thus appreciate the tremendous amount of stone and energy required to build such a huge masterpiece of human engineering. Truly astonishing. It would originally have stood at 10 metres tall, with apparently another few meters on top of that for the conical roof (I have my own theory on this, however), with walls 5 meters wide at the base.
I imagine that the broch walls during the Iron Age were festooned with wild wallflowers. And if the surrounding countryside at the time produced similar wildflowers as it does today, it must have been a remarkable sight.
The excavation process involved an environmental sampling strategy of 100% of depositional layers from inside the broch and 20 litres from each of the external “village” dwelling contexts. Frustratingly it will take a few years before the results of these are established. (Oh, how I wish I had a magic wand!)
When the rain started polythene covered the interior of the broch, held in place with car tyres.Continue reading →
What people call serendipity sometimes is just having your eyes open.
Jose Manuel Barroso
Illus 1: Location map
In July of 2020 I was walking around the edge of a field at Cullerne Farm, just south of Findhorn Village on the south Moray Firth coast, very close to where I have lived for many years, when I spotted some long grass and earth mounds out in the field that I hadn’t noticed before. A closer look revealed that the landowner had been digging a borrow pit for sand and gravel, and had gone down as far as five or six metres. This revealed a nice cross section of the local geology: the shingle of a raised beach just below the surface, and below that many different layers of pebbles and sand, and at the very bottom a 0.5m+ deposit of near white sand, evidently dating to an earlier period in the last ice age, or early Holocene, the period following the ice age.
This raised beach represents the highest point the sea reached in this area during the post-glacial period when a rising relative sea level overtook the still-depressed land surface, and rose as much as 6.5m above current levels in the Moray Firth approximately seven thousand years ago (Shennan et al. 2018). Subsequently, the sea level rise slowed down, but the still rising land surface then caused the relative sea level to drop, and as it did so, it left a series of raised beaches between Cullerne and the coast 760m to the north.
Photo 1: Looking west across Cullerne Farm showing the borrow pit after excavations in August 2020
On closer inspection I noticed that at the eastern edge of the pit, and threatening to fall in, were some fragments of bone, shells, and charred wood. I asked the landowner, Ed Bichan, if I could have a bit of a furtle, and he agreed. What follows is an account of the archaeology that was uncovered during several phases over the next two and a half years.
Photo 2: The eastern exposure of the midden including what would prove to be the structured deposit
On that first day, Ed kindly came out with his digger and removed about 20m2 of the topsoil to the west of the pit edge. This revealed the midden below, which consisted of an unsorted mix of shells, bone, fire-cracked stone, and charcoal. This, along with the material threatening to fall in the pit, persuaded me that this archaeology needed to be rescued. So, with Ed’s permission, I began by excavating the material at the edge of the pit. This appeared to be a structured deposit, and contained a 32cm hammer stone with damage at both ends resting on a partial red deer antler, and close by were a sheep/goat mandible and six cattle molars which had been removed from the jaw/mandible.
Photo 3: The structured deposit, mid-excavation, showing the ‘giant’ 32cm hammer stone resting on a partial red deer antlerContinue reading →
Easter Raitts is a deserted township to the north of Lynchat, near Kingussie. It was selected as an appropriate site for excavation to fulfil two purposes – as a model to provide data for the reconstruction of a highland township at the Highland Folk Park in Newtonmore and to provide practical excavation experience for students of the Certificate in Field Archaeology, which was presented by Aberdeen University in the latter half of the 1990s.
Aerial photograph of Easter Raitts by J.S. Bone
EXACAVATION
Easter Raitts, 1996 Photo: Meryl Marshall
A survey of the site was done in 1995, followed by a season of excavation in 1996.
In 1997 the first tranche of students joined professional archaeologists at Easter Raitts. They focussed on Structures 21 and 24 and feature 14 (the cobbled yard).
Structure 21 was a longhouse with main living area and an annex which was used as a byre. There were several phases of floor, suggesting many years of use and late C18/early C19 pottery was found in this structure, which suggests that it was in use as a dwelling up to the time the township was cleared in the early C19.
Structure 24 comprised an early longhouse, a later stone building and a cobbled yard. Suggestions as to the purpose of the cobbled feature ranged from storage of peats, hay or other feed for animals, or for animals. After the period of human occupation this structure was used to house animals and the suggestion that the platform and the thick stone walls indicated the presence of pigs led to the house being dubbed “the pig-man’s house”. This assumption was proved to be wrong when the structure was reconstructed at the Folk Park. Thanks to Meryl Marshall for the photos of the excavation in 1997.
‘Have you had a look at that place over there with the round things?’
That intriguing question sent Historic Assynt’s Chair, Dave MacBain exploring on the south side of Loch Roe opposite Achmelvich, and the round things turned out to be a mixture of hollows of various sizes where millstones and querns had been excavated out of a low cliff on the shore of the Loch. In and among the extraction hollows were numerous examples of failed and abandoned attempts to create querns, and in a number of these cases, later attempts had been made to excavate even smaller querns from some of the abandoned blanks!
There is absolutely no local knowledge of this quarry even among those older residents with a fund of stories told by their parents and grandparents such as the person who alerted us to the quarry’s existence but had no knowledge of what it was or when it had been last used.
That initial exploration took place just before the onset of Covid and further more detailed investigation was put on hold for a few years. The opportunity to conduct a more detailed survey and create a photographic record occurred at the time of Historic Assynt’s 25th centenary celebrations, but the event turned out to be a less enjoyable experience because of consistent, torrential rain, extensive seaweed cover and very slippery surfaces!
This article describes the chance finding of an early 19th century map of Muir of Ord, the family who took it to Somerset, the repair of that map when it was returned to the Highlands, and the historical and cultural context in which the map was made.
As part of the NOSAS project in 2018 to scan the Lovat Estate maps – the Lovat Estate Map Project – we approached other estates to see if they too would like their maps scanned. These could then be uploaded, along with the Lovat maps, to the extensive online map collection of the National Library of Scotland. This process converted maps in a drawer viewable by very few people, to online maps viewable by anyone in the world with internet access. The project scanned over 400 maps in the Lovat Estate archive, plus an additional 25 maps that were from other estates.
I wondered if the Ord Estate, situated just west of the centre of Muir of Ord in Easter Ross and marching with Lovat, had any old maps that could be scanned. The estate was formerly owned by the Fraser-Mackenzie family. An online search produced an address for a Fraser-Mackenzie lady, currently living in Englishton, near Bunchrew. A letter to that address evoked an email response from her son, Leo, that started a conversation with his cousin, Colin, who was living in Somerset. Colin was the son of the last Fraser-Makenzie person to own the Ord Estate. A more detailed description of the Mackenzies of Ord can be found in a companion article here.
Colin sent me images of an old map that his mother had kept in a drawer. The images were fascinating but sad, as the map was significantly damaged. It also bore the injury of many attempts at repair. Selotape on old documents is never a good idea! This however was the only existing map in the ownership of the Fraser-Mackenzies.
The images showed, apart from the damage, that the map was both undated and unsigned (by the map-maker). However, 1829 was written in old handwriting on the back.