Into The Cabrach


On a map it appears unremarkable but this sparsely populated patch of the Scottish Highlands, a mere 10 miles wide and 8 miles long, is rich in history. Its rolling hills and heather-clad moorland bristle with stories of illicit whisky distilling, smuggling, and clan battles.





Above Video: Dr Peter Bye-Jensen, an archaeologist at The Cabrach Trust




It was described by an unknown writer in the early 1900s as:
“A place abounding in nothing but precipitous hills, yawning passes, and endless marshy mosses, through which strangers and foreigners may never hope to pass. A spot isolated from all known regions of civilisation, and destitute even of the ordinary privilege of accommodation roads, by which its wilds may be explored and its desolation seen.”
Our unknown writer continues:
“A place so wildly desolate and inhospitably barren, that nothing but the firmest nerve, urged on by dire necessity, could ever induce a human being to traverse it."




A damning indictment perhaps, but The Cabrach is much more than its hard living and desolate reputation. The Cabrach is its people and its history. It can be felt all around. Abandonded cottages and farmsteads sit much like they once were; some as if they had been left only days earlier. It is an eerie place, yet alive despite its emptiness.





Farming, crofting and gamekeeping was the chief income of The Cabrach locals. But that wasn't always enough. The marshy landscape and remoteness of The Cabrach made it perfectly suited for hiding small stills, and so illicit distilling developed and thrived. It’s thought over 100 stills were secreted around the rugged landscape at any one time. At the start of the 19th century The Cabrach whiskies were highly sought-after, and considered as valuable as those from the famous Glenlivet.

However the 1823 Excise Act signalled a death knell for illegal distilling, prompting many of The Cabrach’s illicit whisky operators to flee the area, their livelihoods lost. While a few legal enterprises emerged, the remoteness that allowed illicit distilling to thrive became their commercial downfall. Whisky was easier to produce in and around Scotland’s bustling towns.






Above Video: Dr Peter Bye-Jensen and local resident Joan Harvey
talk about the illicit whisky making and smuggling in the area.





As whisky making disappeared, so too did The Cabrach’s residents. The industrialisation that arrived in the mid-19th century prompted many to move into Scotland’s towns and cities. Then, after many more failed to return after two World Wars, The Cabrach’s wild moorlands became known as a place where only the hardy survive.At the turn of the 20th century about 1,000 people scraped a living farming the land in The Cabrach. Now only 70 or so remain.




Above: David & Maureen Sheed

\
The Sheed family have been in The Cabrach for over 300 years. We visited them at their farm house and talked to David & Maureen’s son, Neil, about the past, present and future of The Cabrach.






Despite the years of depopulation that Neil talks about, this surprisingly endearing part of Scotland has thankfully not been forgotten.

The Cabrach Trust was established in 2011 to protect the cultural heritage of the region and safeguard its remote community – one of the remaining few where the Doric language is still alive.







Despite the years of depopulation that Neil talks about, this surprisingly endearing part of Scotland has thankfully not been forgotten.

The Cabrach Trust was established in 2011 to protect the cultural heritage of the region and safeguard its remote community – one of the remaining few where the Doric language is still alive.







Above: An architectural rendering of the the new Heritage Centre and Distillery at Inverharroch Farm.



The centre is expected to attract a steady whisky tourism trade creating much-needed jobs, helping to regenerate the region as funds are pumped back into community projects.






There is once again hope for this desperately beautiful region, and whisky will revive its central role in the enduring story of  The Cabrach.




Words: Becky Paskin & Peter McNally  Photography: Peter McNally  Film-making: Peter McNally & Simon Forsythe  Drone Operator: Simon Forsythe Sound Recording: Peter McNally  Production: RARE Productions  Thanks: Jennifer Robertson, Eleanor Bradford, Peter Bye-Jensen, Aidan O’Rourke, The Sheed Family and The People of The Cabrach.
This story has been a curation of my work that was originally commissioned for The Cabrach Trust / SPEY.

Other Projects