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Daily Record
16-05-2025
- Daily Record
Tiny Scottish island that is only accessible during low tide is filled with WW2 ruins
Less than six miles from Edinburgh, the island is one of 17 in Scotland that can be reached on foot at low tide Sitting less than six miles from the heart of Edinburgh, a tiny island has a remarkable history that belies its small size. And if you want to experience it first-hand, you'll have to pick your moment carefully, as it can only be reached on foot when the tide is out. Cramond Island is one of Scotland's more curious landmarks. Isolated and uninhabited today, the Firth of Forth tidal island's haunting quiet hides a past filled with amazing tales stretching from prehistory to the Second World War. The island, one of 17 that are walkable from the Scottish mainland, captured national headlines in 2011 when a man and woman became stranded after the tide came in, The Express reports. The story took a surreal twist when it emerged that the man's name was Daniel Defoe, a striking coincidence that led to comparisons with the namesake author of Robinson Crusoe, the classic adventure novel published in 1719. Though deserted for much of its history, evidence suggests Cramond Island held a special place in ancient times. Archaeological finds point to human activity dating back to the prehistoric era, and at least one burial cist has been discovered, hinting at its possible ceremonial or spiritual significance for early coastal communities. The island may also be the site of Urbs Iudeu, an early medieval fortress referenced by the Venerable Bede in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People. If true, Cramond Island would have witnessed a siege in 655 AD during one of the era's many power struggles. Centuries later, in 1596, it became the setting for a dramatic duel. Under the sanction of King James VI of Scotland, Adam Bruntfield challenged James Carmichael to single combat, accusing him of murdering his brother. Bruntfield emerged victorious. By the late 18th century, the island took on a quieter role. The British Wool Society used it for grazing sheep in the 1790s, and farming continued until 1904 when the last farmer, Peter Hogg, passed away. A ruined farmstead still stands today. While the structure appears on a map drawn in 1853, its precise origins remain uncertain. Cramond Island was pulled into the conflict of both world wars in the 20th century. In 1914, in the early days of The Great War, an anti-submarine net was installed, stretching between Cramond Island, Inchmickery, Inchcolm and the Fife coast, aiming to deter enemy vessels from navigating up the Forth. Join the Daily Record WhatsApp community! Get the latest news sent straight to your messages by joining our WhatsApp community today. You'll receive daily updates on breaking news as well as the top headlines across Scotland. No one will be able to see who is signed up and no one can send messages except the Daily Record team. All you have to do is click here if you're on mobile, select 'Join Community' and you're in! If you're on a desktop, simply scan the QR code above with your phone and click 'Join Community'. We also treat our community members to special offers, promotions, and adverts from us and our partners. If you don't like our community, you can check out any time you like. To leave our community click on the name at the top of your screen and choose 'exit group'. When the Second World War broke out in 1939, the island was once again fortified as military planners feared a German invasion via the Firth of Forth. An anti-boat boom was laid across the estuary from the island, and gun emplacements were constructed. A spotlight tower was also installed to sweep across the tidal causeway. That invasion never materialised, and following the war, the military departed, leaving behind the skeletal remains of bunkers, fortifications and other wartime structures that still stand in silent testament to its strategic past.
Times
25-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
The Times Daily Quiz: Friday April 25, 2025
1 The title hero of which Daniel Defoe novel was born Robinson Kreutznaer? 2 The dish coq au riesling usually features bacon and which other meat? 3 A 1925 biography of which Italian leader was written by his Jewish mistress Margherita Sarfatti? 4 Live television coverage of which Somerset music festival began on Channel 4 in 1994? 5 In Tennyson's Idylls of the King, which sword 'rose from out the bosom of the lake'? 6 Question Time presenter Robin Day was known for what trademark neckwear? 7 In Islam, Azrael, Jibril, Mikal and Israfil are the four named what? 8 The title of a 1992 book by Brian Cox refers to which Shakespeare tragedy's eponymous king? 9 Which Scottish historian wrote the 2003 book Empire: How Britain Made the Modern World?
The Guardian
16-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Scouse Republic by David Swift review – does Liverpool walk alone?
There's a story about a survey that set out to settle which was the UK's second city. People in Birmingham voted Birmingham. In Manchester they said Manchester. In Glasgow they said Glasgow and in Liverpool they said London. Liverpool holds a high opinion of itself. But then everyone has an opinion about Liverpool. A few months ago I was about to do an event in a school in some home county or other. When I asked to use the toilet, the head waved me towards a pair of doors. I opened the wrong one. It was the lift. 'Ha ha,' he bantered, 'you can take the boy out of Liverpool. But you can't take Liverpool out of the boy.' Daniel Defoe's opinion was that Liverpool was 'one of the wonders of Britain'. He visited several times and noted that the city was always changing – demolishing its past to build its future. He thought getting rid of the castle was a bit hasty. To this day, the most common observation about the city is how much it has changed and is changing. I read David Swift's Scouse Republic alongside Michael Heseltine's breezily optimistic account of urban regeneration, From Acorns to Oaks. It's impossible to deny that the city has brilliantly swerved the abyss of 'managed decline'. It's now a hen-night destination, a regular stop-off for luxury cruises, a seat of learning. The Georgian Quarter, with its cobbled streets shining under Narnian lamp-posts, is one of the most popular filming locations in the country. But Swift's account of that voyage from chaotic sailor town to imperial port, from the Beatles to the Toxteth uprising, does not look away from the dark and stormy passages. If you ever feel tempted to flirt with trickle-down economics, remind yourself that in 1841, when the city was the premier port of the empire after London, life expectancy in Liverpool was 26. Seventy-five per cent of the lads who volunteered for army service were rejected for being unfit. This is a highly personal book. Swift's Israeli in-laws provide the story with a baffled chorus. He has a terrific eye for the telling detail. I will forever be quoting his story about how, in 1904, trumpet-tongued Jim Larkin – hero of the Belfast dock strike – buried a letter 'to the future socialist society' in a biscuit tin underneath the foundation stone of the Anglican cathedral. There are chapters on the origin of the scouse accent, a short history of Eric's nightclub, observations on the significance of Jürgen Klopp's Christianity and a long overdue analysis of that weird cocktail of truth, disinformation and racism – the legend of Purple Aki, an intimidatingly large body builder of Nigerian origin whose possibly harmless but unnerving kink is asking young men if he can feel their muscles. A lot of people think he's an urban myth. On the downside, there's not much here about the Chinese community – almost as much a part of Liverpool identity as the Irish. There's no mention of the city's greatest son – Jeremiah Horrocks – or of Constantine Cavafy, who lived on Balmoral Road, near Home Bargains on Prescot Road. I mention these things not as a criticism but as a goad to get Swift to write a sequel to this tastily cargoed clipper ship of a book. The title – Scouse Republic – nods towards Liverpool exceptionalism of the 'scouse not English' type. But if Liverpool is so exceptional, why should a non-scouser want to read this? For one thing, because scouse exceptionalism – the idea that the city is too different, too socialist – is a myth that Swift takes to pieces in a chapter called Good Rioters, Bad Socialists. Liverpool is different. It experienced large-scale immigration long before most of the country. It experienced the loss of empire more directly. In David Goodhart's world of Somewheres v Anywheres, scousers – myself included – are definitely Somewheres. But every city thinks it's different. Manchester's unofficial motto is 'We do things differently here', but then that was written by a Scouser (me). And Liverpool is not that different. Reform came second in several seats in the City Region. And if exceptionalism ever meant anything, it surely lost that meaning last summer when Farage's rioters set fire to Spellow library. This is why you should read this book. Liverpool is a distorting mirror where the themes of our politics are expressed louder and more vividly. The downside of its solidarity is a politics which is as much about identity as idealism. If you dug up Jim Larkin's biscuit tin, what might you find inside? A note that said: Don't worry, even Liverpool – in spite of everything – will find a future. Scouse Republic: An Alternative History of Liverpool by David Swift is published by Constable (£25). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at Delivery charges may apply
