The conclusion of the Silent Eye’s extended workshop to Orkney. A visit to the neighbouring island of Rousay. A sad disappointment and a wonderful surprise. (1500 words, a twelve-minute read)

(Above: a modern reconstruction of a Neolithic farmer felling a tree with a hand-made stone axe)

For our final day, we were off to the Island of Rousay..

I’ve written, elsewhere, about what it’s like to drive a car full of passengers, backwards, down a steep ramp towards a ferry which should be ‘down in the gloom, somewhere’… Then take a twenty-minute journey to a neighbouring island, only to do it all again and return at the end of a the day…

(Above: Looking back at the Orkney Mainland from Rousay)

On our previous trip to Orkney, in 2018, we had visited the island of Hoy, across the central Scapa Flow waterway.

(Above: the vastness of Scapa Flow, the central waterway of the Orkney archipelago)

It had provided a necessary contrast to the Orkney mainland, and reminded us how central was the constant presence of navigable water to the ancient peoples who lived here. For this trip to Rousay, the ferry crossing was a shorter one, and the purpose of our visit was twofold: to visit a chambered tomb within what had been a Neolithic farming community; and to carry out a coastal walk to a ‘Broch’ – a peculiarly Scottish defensive structure that was often found at the heart of prosperous Iron Age settlements – usually close to the sea.


(Above: the information board for Blackhammer Chambered Tomb, a Neolithic sacred building from over five thousand years ago)

The first of these was the Blackhammer Chambered Tomb, built by Neolithic farmers over five thousand years ago, and uncovered thanks to the work of Walter Grant and Graham Callander (see image below).

In 1936, Walter Grant, a local whisky producer, and National Museum director Graham Callander dug into a mound of heather-covered stones to reveal Blackhammer. Inside they found human remains and objects possibly left as offerings to the dead. A better word might be offerings to their ‘ancestors’, who they viewed as still close to them. The chambered tomb was remarkable intact.

(Above: the mound into which Grant and Callander dug now forms the ‘dome’ of the tomb, just as it was in the 1930s. All original photos by the author)

Blackhammer is one of 15 such tombs on Rousay, and was in use at the same time as the Ness of Brodgar buildings now being excavated. There was a difference, though – and that was why we wanted to be here.

(Above: the interior of Blackhammer from the virtual tour- see notes below)

Here was a simple farming community, and we felt it would allow us to sample their spiritual beliefs, which may have subtly differed from the ‘priestly’ community around Brodgar.

Excavations in the 1930s revealed two adult male skeletons, fragments of animal bone, a bone pin, a polished stone axe of plain grey-green stones and some Neolithic pottery. It is not known whether these were ‘grave goods’ buried with the body, or ceremonial objects used during burial rites.

The Blackhammer burial chamber has seven compartments and is cocooned within the heather-covered mound, less than a mile from the sea. Dry stone walling arranged in a herringbone pattern runs around its outer edge. The tomb’s construction was a massive undertaking for local farmers during the Neolithic period, when most of their time was spent providing food for their families. It reveals the important place that the community’s ancestors retained in daily life.

(Above: the internal structure of the Blackhammer Chambered Tomb. Image from the information board)

The above schematic shows the internal structure of the Blackhammer Chambered Tomb. The elements are: (1) Entrance Passage; (2) Blocking Stones; (3) A set of ‘stalled chambers’ for the remains of their ancestors; and (4) A later wall which may have been created following encroachment on the original tomb)

(Above a stone axehead and flint knife – the latter whitened by heat-treatment)

Sadly, when we got there, the site was closed… We had known this was a possibility. The second of our visits would provide ample justification for the ferry ride, so I photographed the information boards, which have been used above to illustrate the site.

(Above: through the reinforced glass roof, the start of the interior passage)

We were able to clamber up the mound to peer down through the roof (above), giving some idea of what lay in the interior, but, other than the mound itself, that was it.

But then, on the way out, I noticed that the ‘closed’ sign had a QR code on it. If you’ve not used one of these before they are amazing things. They link to a website related to what you’re looking at, and sometimes even contain a virtual-reality tour.

Having said that, we couldn’t get a phone signal at Blackhammer, and the rest of the day was full, so I forgot about it…until I was writing this blog! What I hadn’t expected was that the online link would work with a photo of the QR code just as well as being there. Please try it!

(Above: If you point your phone’s camera at the above QR code (top right) it should open a new link and take you to an excellent virtual tour – from which the two images, below, are illustrations)

We were content to move on. What happened next was quite sublime…

A few miles along the coast road of Rousay lies a historic site information board. You are here, says the small, red sign on the photo. But ‘here’ is a long way above the ocean, and Midhowe lies close to the sea. I wasn’t too excited. Covid had put paid to any chance of a visit to anything ‘with an enclosed interior’. We knew the risks when we arrived.

(Above: the view down to Midhowe is enticing)

At the foot the cliff, perched above Eynhallow Sound – with its famous roaring tidal race – are two of Rousay’s most spectacular ancient monuments.

Midhowe Chambered Cairn is among the largest Neolithic tombs in Orkney. It was built 5,400 years ago. Neighbouring Midhowe Broch was the centre of a much later Iron Age settlement between 200 BC and 100 AD… The chambered tomb was closed but the Broch was open.

We made a slow and careful descent of the steep path, each lost in our own thoughts. We had seen so much since arriving on Orkney. This day had a slightly surreal feeling to it…

(Above: the 1930 hanger was created to protect one of the world’s greatest archeological treasurers. It was closed, of course, but never say die…)

The vast hanger that houses the 33 metre Neolithic Cairn was closed and locked. The windows were shuttered, but not all the shutters were locked into place. With a gentle pull (later reversed to restore their original state), several were happy to open.

For a moment, I was reminded of the church at Nigg, and Sue Vincent’s famous trick of standing on tiptoes and pointing the camera at the glass, to see what it might just capture. The windows here weren’t as high as Nigg Church. I tried it and looked at the camera image. Even in the sunlight something was visible.

(Above: where there’s a will…)

Motivated by this, I repeated the exercise at three other windows around the perimeter of the hanger. The side ones revealed the long sides of the chambered tomb. I wondered if I dared hope the front had an open wooden shutter…

(Above: the side wall of the cairn is revealed)

I confess to having a small chuckle when the final shutter opened. At first I could see nothing, as the bright afternoon sun was streaming in behind me. Then, with adjusted eyes, the entrance to the long cairn came into focus (below). I found that if I blocked the sunlight with my body, I got a clear image – as clear as the dusty windows would allow.

(Above: Ah, this is the entrance!)

The ‘stalled’ chambered cairn of Midhowe is an impressive example of a type of drystone monument known as an ‘Orkney-Cromarty’ cairn. Its entrance passage leads to a long central chamber, divided by pairs of upright stone slabs into 12 ‘stalls’.

Midhowe was excavated in 1932-3, again by Callander and Grant, who found the remains of at least 25 human skeletons, plus stone tools, pottery, and animal bone. In the mid-1930s it was enclosed by its present protective stone-built hangar, allowing the whole cairn to be appreciated. The outer layer of decorative stonework has been arranged in a herringbone pattern to reproduce the likely original.

The hanger was built from local stone. Rousay resident Walter Grant, co-excavator of Blackhammer, and owner of the Highland Park Distillery in Kirkwall, paid for its construction and, afterwards, gave it to the nation.

(Above: zooming in through the glass, the chambers emerge, blurred. But the phone camera was doing its best!)

I left the hanger structure smiling. I wouldn’t be able to evaluate the photos until I got back to the hotel, but I knew they had been worth taking. Perhaps we would come back, one day and enjoy a proper tour. For now, the Broch and its wonderful setting beckoned. It was, literally, next door – though the two structures were not related.

Leaving the Chambered Tomb, my gaze had been drawn towards the beautiful stratified rocks that led down to the sea near the Broch. I knew I had to go down there before we left the area…

(Midhowe’s Broch – a two minute walk from the Chambered Tomb)

The thickness of the Broch’s walls tells you that this was a defensive structure. Created long after the Neolithic people who made the temples at the Ness of Brodgar, the Iron Age people who lived here would have known little of their forebears, except perhaps for their stories and legends.

(Above: the incredible thickness of the walls illustrates their protective purpose)

Set behind a rock-cut ditch and rampart, Midhowe Broch was the first and largest building of a small, well laid-out village. It may have been built by an extended family demonstrating their power and influence in the area. Although the site would have provided some protection against sporadic raiding, the inhabitants were farmers, like nearly everyone else at this time.

(Above: the division of the interior)

On a clear day you can see the matching Broch of Gurness across the water. Midhowe is one of nine brochs that stand sentinel over the narrow and dangerous stretch of water known as Eynhallow Sound.

(Above: the call of the sea…)

Leaving the Broch and looking towards the sea, I had the sense that this would be the right place to finalise this series of blogs on Scotland and Orkney. By creating two streams, one going back in time, the other forwards, I could end up here. There was something very special about this place.

(Above: the end of the land, start of the sea… and in the distance, the mysterious and deadly Eynhallow tidal flow)

As I dropped down the descending levels of the layers of rock. I had the desire to let go of all the facts, all the history… They were important, academically, but they were the past. The consciousness in the landscape, the ‘I’ of each of us, was now and was real. In the next second, it too would become old and replaced with the next sequential part of the eternal now. To have that continuity was a gift of Life and memory, but what mattered was the now. The past was subjective history, the future was potential. Only the now had absolute reality.

That sense of letting go felt very good. Within a few minutes I was crouched, balanced on a wet slab of ancient rock, within inches of the lapping sea. This site won’t support video, but if you go to the same post on the Silent Eye you can watch it. The link is here.

It was one of those, literally, perfect moments… There aren’t too many in a lifetime. The others in our group had left me to my exploring and were on their way back up to the car park. I was quite alone in a now landscape. This beautiful place had created an intense feeling of peace and objectivity. I crouched down on the rocks to take the above photo. You can’t record that level of peace, but you can try…

This is the last blog in the Pictish Trail and City of the Stars series.

If you would like to be notified of future Silent Eye weekends, drop us a line to rivingtide@gmail.com, saying what your interests are.

Other parts in this series:

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part 8. This is Part Nine, the final part.

The preceding Pictish Trail weekend blog posts:

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

©Stephen Tanham, 2020.

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye – a journey through the forest of personality to the sunrise of Being.

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