Roy’s ‘magnificent … sketch’ was stored away in a cupboard and never seen until its rediscovery in the early 19th century. Maps were state secrets. Yet in this seminal work lay the origins of OS, formally established in 1791. Their mapping of Scotland continued fitfully from 1819 and at various scales until its completion at the end of that century. In Ireland matters were conducted more swiftly, motivated by the aim of maximising tax revenue.
As part of their work in Ireland, the OS established rules for collecting, recording and mapping place-names. These were subsequently applied to the Scottish Highlands. The following extract comes from ‘Instructions for the Interior Mapping of Ireland’ drafted by Thomas Colby, OS Superintendent in 1825.
The names of each place is to be inserted as it is commonly spelt, in the first column of the name book: and the various modes of spelling it used in the books, writings ... are to be inserted in the second column, with the authority placed in the third column …
(Withers 2000 535)
Rules were also laid down for choosing ‘authorities’ to authenticate the place-names collected.
For names generally the following are the best individual authorities and should be taken in the order given: Owners of property; estate agents; clergymen, postmasters and schoolmasters ... Small farmers and cottagers are not to be depended on, even for the names of the places they occupy …’
(ibid 535)
This exclusive approach, reliant on informants from the landowning and professional classes, meant that those who worked the land and were closest to it were marginalised in the formal recording of place-names. As a result, local variants in naming were ignored. Subtleties of the spoken language were mistakenly represented as fixed and constant. What was not standard became accepted as standard. Parts of the map also remained blank for no other reason than an understandable reluctance of the informants to give freely of information, which the Government might use to their disadvantage. In some cases, settlements of native Irish were omitted. Those who worked the landscape were either mapped off, or mis-mapped onto a paper landscape. Problems of representation were more complex still, since those collecting information had no influence over its final transcription in OS’s Southampton HQ, giving further scope for misrepresentation.
In the Scottish Highlands, mapping recommenced in earnest on Lewis in 1846, for no other reason than that the landowner, Sir James Matheson, wanted an update on the resources of his estate. Rules developed in Ireland about gathering place-names were extended to Lewis. Alexander Carmichael was one of the ‘authorities’ commissioned to ascertain the authenticity of names. He was a Gaelic-speaking historian and folklorist from Lismore and thus an exemplary ‘authority’. Today he would be called an ethnologist. Carmichael wrote about what happened to his painstaking work, once it was beyond his control.
I have gone to the locality and in every instance corrected the place-name from the living voice on the spot. From these corrections I have written out each name in correct Gaelic and have revised and re-revised my own work. I have adhered strictly to the local sound and pronounciation of every word. Well then fancy my mortification when Cap. MacPherson tells me that he means to adopt neither Norse nor Gaelic theory in spelling but to give the name in phonetic spelling.
(ibid 547)
In a subsequent letter he comments further on the fate of his translations:
... I found that many ... place-names which I was at so much pains and expense in collecting were entire left out ... that some names on the old maps were left unaltered in form thus lending the meaning different. I took the liberty of drawing the attention of the Dir G of the OS to these alterations and the reply was that the names were omitted to save expence that old names were left out as they were obviously incorrect and that the final mode of spelling rested with the Inspector General.
(ibid 547)
We must treat maps with caution. They reflect the society of the mapmaker and the way the landscape and its inhabitants have been interrogated. Nevertheless, over most of the Highlands, now bereft of native speakers and without further knowledge coming to light, today’s mapped record is arguably as good as it gets. This may remain true even after consulting original name books and manuscripts of earlier maps and charters. For this study, it has not been possible to substantiate the deep authenticity of the many thousands of names listed. Places mapped by OS represent a surface layer. But it is the surface layer which we use.
Later OS maps include information about landform, augmenting spot heights with contours. These connect points of equal elevation. Before leaving this chapter it is worth recounting how an early use of contours was employed during the ‘Schiehallion experiment’. After Newton’s discourse on the universal theory of gravitation, there was much scientific debate about the shape and mass of the earth. Mountains could be used to test contrasting theories. Deflections of a weighted plumb line from the vertical could be measured and used by extrapolation to find the mass and volume of the earth. Schiehallion or Sìdh Chailleann - the Fairy Hill of the Caledonians was deemed ideal for the experiment because of its isolation from other peaks. These would exert a gravitational pull, and the peak’s apparent symmetry meant that any declination from the vertical could be considered commensurate on all sides.
Accordingly, Charles Mason, later to be replaced by Nevil Maskelyne, the Astronomer Royal, embarked upon an expedition to the mountain. They spent four months on the summit. A mathematician and surveyor called Charles Hutton realised that the numerous readings and measurements of deflections could be organised according to common values by plotting them along a line circling the mountain. Hutton did not discover the contour or isopleth. Other thinkers of the time had developed similar ideas, but he did apply the concept to the experiment.
Roy was by now a renowned cartographer and scientist and visited the team at their mountain redoubt. He verified their measurement of Schiehallion’s height barometrically, by relating air pressure to elevation. Though the scientists complained about the weather and how it interfered with their observations, they were also kept company by local people, who brought them gifts of food. At the farewell party in October a local boy, Donnchadh Ruadh (red-haired Duncan), entertained the party with fiddle music and songs. The party, fuelled by local whisky, went so well that the observation hut burnt down and Donnchadh’s fiddle was left behind in the rush to escape the flames. Maskelyne sent a replacement from London a few weeks later. Duncan called it A’ Bhan-Lunnainneach Bhuidhe - the Yellow London Woman, and composed a song in her honour.
On the trip I took to Schiehallion,
I lost my wealth and my darling,
… Mr Maskelyne, the hero
… did not leave me long a widower,
He sent my choice treasure
That will leave me thankful while I live.
(Hewitt 2010 62)
The conjunction of enlightenment scientists and mapmakers with late 18th century Gaelic speakers in Perthshire, exemplifying the rational and the intuitive, high upon the summit of The Fairy Hill of the Caledonians, was an extraordinary amalgam. The meeting of science with Gaelic culture also produced a map with place-names. It is worth comparing this 1778 Schiehallion document of Hutton’s with the current record.
Table 2: Comparison of Schiehallion experiment Map with OS 1:25,000 sheet
There