Musing in the Merse - Thoughts on Berwickshire Life
There’s a trend on TV and in the press for countdown lists of great men and women. The greatest Briton, the greatest Scot, and so on. What about the greatest sons and daughters of Berwickshire? It’s a pretty distinguished list. There’s obviously Jim Clark, the great racing driver. And you would have to include Sir Alec Douglas-Home, if not for his achievements as prime minister, then at least for his long service in the cabinet. Looking back, Bishop William Lamberton must be in the top ten (if we discard the claims of Ayrshire to him). He provided Robert the Bruce with the crucial ecclesiastical support that gave his fragile regime legitimacy in the early days, defying the Pope in the process, and risking his own life. Then there’s John Duns Scotus, the great philosopher of the High Middle Ages. His best known legacy is a little unfortunate – he was immortalised by his enemies who coined the word ‘dunce’ to describe his adherents. But his fans knew him as ‘The Subtle Doctor’.
The recent cold weather has caused serious problems for anyone who works outdoors or lives away from the main roads. It’s been particularly difficult for the elderly and those who live in remoter parts away from the main roads.
But adversity often brings out the best in people. The way in which neighbours helped each other battle with the ice and freezing temperatures was almost instinctive in its selflessness. It shows that modern materialism has not swamped the human spirit, at least not in the Borders.
The snow also brought a rare wonder and beauty to the landscape. For a few days after New Year it was as if we’d all been transplanted to another planet. The snow had a kind of Alpine powdery permanence that gave a quite alien feel to the country. Then it reverted to the more familiar damp slushy stuff, and most recently we’ve been treated to a sort of frozen Scotch mist that is particularly slippery underfoot.
They say that Eskimos have a dozen words for the different types of snow, and perhaps we in the Borders should develop an equivalent vocabulary for all the stuff that falls from the sky.
The campaign to restore Greenlaw Town Hall is a fascinating example of civic society at work. It shows the potential for cooperation between public bodies, philanthropy and local people. Let’s hope the restored building becomes a viable, functioning part of the scene for many years to come.
The project is a reminder that many of our monuments and buildings were originally built and financed through a mixture of voluntary action, bequests and local government. Our towns and villages are dotted with such examples of Victorian civic endeavour, many of which were funded entirely from ‘public subscription’. But for too long now we have relied entirely on the state for municipal buildings and public amenity. By and large it is the Council that tends our parks and mends our loos (if they’re kept open) from afar. These days it’s hard to envisage someone leaving a large physical or monetary bequest to their local town for fear of it being diverted from its original purpose. But perhaps the Greenlaw project heralds a new appetite for voluntary civic activism. If so, maybe there are ways we could encourage it by enhancing local decision making through trusts or foundations.
This column by The Borders Party Leader, Nicholas Watson appeared in The Berwickshire News on 28 January 2010.