Scotland’s hermits and their stories of solitude and survival
In the search for peace, simplicity and sometimes silence, these hermits lived life in the only way they could, finds Alison Campsie
Hermits have long been the stuff of curiosity in a world rammed with gatherings, going out, communication and consumerism.
As we face social lockdown and our lives are stripped back to the bare essentials, their stories of solitude, survival and resilience perhaps seem all the more fascinating.
The wish of Jake Williams, a former science teacher, to leave the daily grind behind led him to buy an abandoned farm cottage deep in the Cairngorms.
Soon he was living as a hunter gatherer, collecting materials and resources as he went and passing the time playing the mandolin or dipping into his vast vinyl collection, which he played through an old tannoy system once used at a football ground.
An old beat up Renault served as his greenhouse with much of his cooking done outdoors.
When his home, near Rhynie in Aberdeenshire, was cut off by bad weather, he put on his cross-country skis to get to Aberdeen, a journey which took him five hours.
In an newspaper interview in 2012, when he was aged 62, he queried the interest in his lifestyle. “It’s perfectly conventional to me –o nothing startling at all. As far as I’m concerned I’m just a normal homeowner. It’s everyone else’s lives that are strange,” he said.
Mr Williams, who featured in a 2012 documentary about his life, later moved to Huntly and became a popular busker, often playing in Aberdeen.
James Mcrory Smith, also known as Sandy, also found the solitude he wanted in one of Scotland’s quietest corners. Known as the Highland Hermit, his house at Strathchailleach in Sutherland had no running water or electricity and could only be reached by foot.
Mcrory Smith, who died in 1999 aged 73, said he had walked probably “thousands of miles” to collect his messages and pension from the post office at Balchrick.
“The only problem is I keep wearing out my wellies,” he said in a rare newspaper interview.
Mcrory Smith, originally from Dumbarton, fought in the Second World War and served as part of the British Army of the Rhine (BAOR). After his wife was killed in a road accident, he returned to Scotland and hit the road. According to writer James Carron, he survived on a diet of fish, rabbit and the odd deer with luxuries including Capstan Full Strength cigarettes, High Commissioner whisky and Carlsberg Special Brew.
In an interview published in 1992, he said: “My life is perfect and I would like to stay here forever.”
Tom Leppard, another former soldier, found solitude in a rundown lochside bothy on Skye, which he converted into a cave-like structure, for 20 years. He used his kayak to collect supplies and his pension. Despite his wish for isolation, he found fame after covering himself in leopard-print tattoos and was once recognised as the world’s most tattooed man by the Guinness Book of World Records. Leppard moved to a care home in Inverness in 2008 and died in 2016, aged 80.
Meawhile, Robert Sinclair took to the woods outside Falkirk and lived for 20 years surviving on what he could catch, forage and steal. Living entirely without money, he was described as a modern-day Davy Crockett due to his survival skills.
Sinclair made headlines in 1999 when he was sent to HMP Barlinnie for failing to attend court. He pleaded guilty to stealing items, including crisps and a tin of salmon, from surrounding houses and caravans.
In Galloway, author Sara Maitland found silence and happiness in an old shepherd’s cottage on an isolated moor. She likes to say as little as possible and at one point did not speak a word every Tuesday and Thursday.
She described mobile phones as “a major breakthrough for the powers of hell” although she has a landline for essential communication.
For some, solitude comes easy. Living any other way would be the truest test.