Frank Lockwood’s Island
IN A part of the world where place names are predominantly Gaelic, Old Norse, Pictish or a combination of all three, anything else is unusual and generally has an interesting story behind it.
Frank Lockwood’s Island, lying a few yards off the southernmost point of Lochbuie Estate on Mull, is no exception. It comprises no more than a few acres of hard rock, an occasional patch of grass, several brackish pools and very little else. Migratory gulls, herons and the odd oily cormorant are its only occupants, which probably accounts for its original Gaelic name ‘Eilean straid eun’ – the island of the street of the birds.
So, who was Frank Lockwood and why is his name attached to this isolated and barren rock in the Firth of Lorn? He was born in 1846 in Doncaster where his great-grandfather and grandfather had both been mayors. He was educated privately and at Manchester Grammar School before going up to Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge.
He was called to the bar at Lincoln’s Inn in 1872 and made a Queen’s Counsel in 1882. He became Liberal MP for York in 1885 and 10 years later was appointed solicitor-general in England and Wales and knighted. He died in 1897 and had been one of the best-known men in England.
Lockwood is remembered, firstly, for defending Charlie Peace (1832-1879), an English burglar and murderer, who embarked on a life of crime. Lockwood lost the case and Peace was hanged in Leeds prison. His story has inspired many books and films. Secondly, as counsel for the prosecution in the famous Crown v Oscar Wilde case, which led to the poet being found guilty and sentenced to two years’ hard labour. Thirdly, as an accomplished artist and cartoonist. He drew frequently for Punch – an influential British weekly magazine of wit and satire established in 1841. It became a household word because of its sophisticated humour and absence of offensive material, especially when viewed against the satirical press of the time. One of its more famous cartoons was of two farmers arguing over the ownership of a cow. One was pulling the head, the other the tail and underneath there was a fat lawyer sitting on a stool milking it dry.
In 1874, Lockwood married Julia Schwabe, whose sister Katherine was the wife of Murdoch Gillian MacLaine, 22nd chief and laird of the 30,000-acre Lochbuie Estate, which explains how Lockwood came to be associated with the area.
As to the naming of the island, there are two suggestions. One has it that Lockwood was interested in ornithology and spent hours in the vicinity watching the birds, which seems unlikely given the number and same species to be found in Loch Buie. The other is that he wanted to become a member of the prestigious Argyllshire Gathering but, as membership in those days was restricted to landowners of Argyllshire, their sons and brothers, the landless Lockwood stood no chance. Lochbuie, who was the honorary secretary at the time, got round the issue by giving his wife’s brother-in-law the worthless island which now bears his name.
Sir Frank and his wife evidently didn’t take these social obstacles too seriously. On one occasion they left their London house for a gathering and happened to arrive slightly after the MacLaines, and heard the butler announce: ‘Lochbuie and Mrs MacLaine.’ Sir Frank whispered something to the butler. The man hesitated, but apparently Lockwood convinced him, because when he flung open the door to admit them, he announced: ‘No 26 Lennox Gardens and Lady Lockwood.’
A few miles west of Frank Lockwood’s Island there is a mystery. It is a large cave, allegedly 300 yards long, whose entrance is now hidden behind a rock fall. It is shown on maps and charts as Lord Lovat’s Cave and was where, according to local tradition, Simon Fraser, 11th Lord Lovat and chief of Clan Fraser, took refuge after Culloden. As there is no documentary evidence to support the claim that Lovat of the ’45 was in Mull before or after the Jacobite rising, the story cannot be true. At one time it was known as St Aidan’s Cave, which is much more credible.
There is no mystery about the iron wreckage to be seen lying in the shallows between Frank Lockwood’s Island and the shoreline. It is all that remains of HMS Maine (a 315ft, 169-ton steel steamship, built in 1887 by William Grey and Co, West Hartlepool), that ran aground in thick fog on June 17, 1914.
HMS Maine, which was serving as a Royal Fleet Auxiliary hospital ship, was in the area picking up patients from a mine-laying fleet engaged in exercises in Loch Linnhe when she struck. The casualties, who were in no danger, were carried ashore and billeted in tents until help arrived. A salvage operation was considered but later abandoned because of the likelihood of the vessel sinking if it was pulled off the rocks. So there it remained until after the end of the First World War when it was broken up and removed.