Unlocking the imposing, creaky door with a brass skeleton key, our guide, Jennifer, escorts us into the hushed and hallowed grounds of the Argyll Mausoleum of Historic Kilmun Church. Here, in the village of Kilmun, Dunoon, Scotland, is the final resting place for almost all the Chiefs of Clan Campbell (aka Marquises, Earls, and Dukes of Argyll). Clan Campbell was and remains one of the largest and most powerful of the Highland clans.
Argyll Mausoleum is situated on the shore of Holy Loch (Scottish for lake). A brisk wind swirls off the sun-dappled water, and we welcome the still air and quietude in this ancient, historic chamber. Our voices sound eerily disembodied as they reverberate throughout the soaring heights of the cast iron, sky-lighted dome and against the stone walls.
“Under your feet are quite a lot of Campbells,” Jennifer notes. “Clan Campbell buried almost all their Chiefs here from 1442 until 1949. The last was the 10th Duke of Argyll. The exceptions are John, 2nd Duke of Argyll, who lies in Westminster Abbey, and two others buried on the island of Inishail.
“There’s plenty of clan graveyards in the country,” she continues. “However, Clan Campbell is the only one whose chiefs lie buried in the same place. Argyll Mausoleum is the only such mausoleum in Scotland.”
We begin our journey
Dunoon is the first leg, and Kilmun Church the first attraction, of the long-dreamed, year’s stay in Europe my husband, Bill, and I at last have under way. My ancestry is about 50% Scottish. In addition, I’m currently researching my genealogy. So far, I know I’m descended from both Clan MacDougall and Clan Stewart – a sharing that elicits a hearty “good to hear” from Jennifer. Consequently, Scotland is an especially meaningful destination to launch our travels.
We’ve kicked off our adventure with a week’s stay with nine friends at nearby Strone House. The rental is a stately manor house built for a Victorian shipping magnate and overlooking the Clyde Estuary. Strone, in addition to Kilmun, is a gem in the string of picturesque shore villages which attract both travelers and locals wanting a respite from the bustle of nearby Glasgow.
At the moment, though, it seems backward, maybe even morbid, to first learn about Scottish history and Clan Campbell with their leaders’ deaths. Happily, Jennifer’s scholarly telling of the clan’s everlasting presence here is far from weighty or didactic. She lightens her delivery — and the mood — with an impish wit. Informative and irreverent, her eyes twinkle when she reveals an unexpected bit of trivia…i.e., Campbell is Gaelic for “crooked mouth.”
Surprisingly, her stories preface experiences and findings that will unfold for us during the coming week, along with revelations about my own Clan Stewart.
Mighty, fierce, and prominent Clan Campbell
Kilmun has supported some manner of religious settlement since the 6th century. Either the Irish Saint Fintan Mannu in the 7th century or the Scottish Saint Munn (patron saint of Clan Campbell) in the 10th century founded the Celtic church. A small stone church existed on this space in the 12th century. In the 1200s, Clan Lamont (more trivia…Lamont means lawmaker), which owned the land, supported the collegiate church when it became Catholic.
And how did the Clan Campbell burial tradition begin?
Popular legend has it that a young Campbell named Celestine (“that well known Scottish boy’s name,” Jennifer deadpans) died unexpectedly in 1442 while studying in Glasgow. His father, Duncan, and mother, Marjory, (descended from Robert the Bruce) normally would have taken him back to Inveraray, where they lived. Instead, a snowstorm prevented further travel. Kilmun was the holiest place in Argyll, a pilgrimage site, so they asked the Lamonts if they could bury their son. The Lamonts agreed, and Duncan endowed the collegiate church. And so began burials beneath the church floor for Clan Campbell chiefs and their families in their new spiritual home.
But by 1646, Clan Campbell was pushing at Clan Lamont’s boundaries.
“In Scotland, clans were always fighting each other,” Jennifer says. “There was a wee skirmish just down there,” she adds with understatement as she points in the direction of Holy Loch.
Some Lamonts chased some Campbells up to the church, and they barricaded themselves inside. The Lamonts set fire to it. The Campbells lost their lives, and the fire pretty much destroyed the church. All that remains is the still-standing ruined tower that would have housed the monks.
Clan Campbell sought retribution.
“En masse, they flattened the Lamonts’ Toward Castle near Dunoon, killing all the Lamonts they could lay their hands on and a few more at Dunoon Castle,” according to Jennifer.
Clan Campbell held the land from then on. They rebuilt the medieval church. The Church of Scotland ruled people couldn’t be buried under the floor of a church anymore unless there was a proper crypt. So, Clan Campbell constructed a private burial chapel in 1660 next to the church, and relocated the Argyll remains. Eventually, they demolished the chapel, and built the mausoleum in 1795. The fourth and current church was finished in 1841.
An interesting cast of Clan Campbell characters is interred in the mausoleum.
Two named Archibald were beheaded when they fell out with their kings over politics and religion. Another Archibald helped found Kew Gardens, the British Museum, and the Bank of Scotland. He also refurbished Inveraray Castle (primary seat of Clan Campbell) and the adjacent village of Inveraray. The beautiful Elizabeth was known as the “Double Duchess” for having married two dukes. James married Princess Louise, daughter of Queen Victoria and namesake of Lake Louise in Canada.
Clan Stewart connection
When Marjory died, Jennifer notes, Duncan remarried Margaret Stewart, from a very important Scottish family. I ask about the inconsistency of the spelling of my Clan Stewart’s name. I’ve seen it written as both Stewart and Stuart.
She startles me by saying, “It doesn’t really matter. It depends on what you feel like.”
Stewart comes from Steward, for the men who served as stewards managing households and treasuries of the kings of Scotland. When Mary, Queen of Scots, went to France to marry Francis II, the French couldn’t spell or pronounce her Stewart last name because, at that time, they didn’t have a “w” in their alphabet. They changed it to Stuart, a version which some still use.
No more Clan Campbell burials at Kilmun Church
And why did the Clan Campbell burial tradition end?
Clan Campbell no longer owns the mausoleum. The Argyll & Bute Council owns it now. In the 1930s, all graveyards, cemeteries, and mausoleums being neglected were handed over to the council. The council corresponded with the Argyll family, asking if they wanted to keep the mausoleum, but they never replied.
“That broke the link, which is sad,” Jennifer shrugs.
The graveyards
On our way to the church, we walk through the medieval and Victorian graveyards. Elaborately carved headstones attest to the wealth and prominence of the area. The graves have stories of their own.
James Duncan lies under a pinkish slab. A prosperous sugar processor, he owned a local estate (now Benmore Botanic Garden), and was the first European to seriously collect Impressionist art. He planned to bequeath his paintings to the Scottish nation. Instead, forced into bankruptcy by a competing family, he sold his holdings to the Louvre, the Prada, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and elsewhere. Unfortunately, very few paintings remained in Scotland.
An oversized Celtic cross with a medical symbol marks the cremated remains of Elizabeth Blackwell. A graduate of Geneva College in New York, she was the first woman in America to earn a degree in medicine, and the first woman in America to go on the Medical Register. She returned to her native England, where she also became the first woman in Britain to go on the Medical Register. She holidayed in Kilmun, and often worshiped at the church.
Jennifer points straight across Holy Loch to a marina where 60 years ago the United States established a base for Polaris submarines. Before it was dismantled 30 years ago, the site was “a little America” with a PX store, a cinema, 10-pin bowling, and American cars.
She explains the ruins of a partially submerged fishing boat we spot lying askew in Holy Loch. Several years ago, a man scuttled his boat, thinking he’d get the insurance. As a local who knew these tidal waters, it’s inconceivable he chose the shallow part of the loch for his scheme. Insurance claim denied.
An iron mortsafe artifact rests against the medieval tower. Mortsafes in the United Kingdom protected freshly dug graves from grave robbers, who supplied bodies of the recently deceased to medical schools for anatomy students to dissect.
Interior wonders
A famous collection of stained-glass windows, richly intense in color, dates from 1895-1924. My favorite features cobalt blue, the most expensive color for stained glass. I had no idea that cobalt is radioactive, and ticks with a Geiger counter.
The simplest and oldest object is a large, rectangular stone bearing a thin, carved cross. Displayed upright, the congregation brought it inside from the grounds for protection, as the church had been told it’s likely medieval.
We observe, but don’t hear, the rare, still-working hydraulic organ. The longest pipe is 16 feet, the smallest four inches. Installed in 1909 before electricity came to the church, the organ operated using water from an adjacent stream. Now, it’s attached to the public water main.
Jennifer holds out a seemingly unassuming, antique collection bag used for offerings. She encourages me to put in my hand. Clued in now to her mischievous personality, I’m immediately suspicious. I give it a whirl, though…and physically can’t. We burst out laughing. Some shrewd financial steward of Kilmun Church had cleverly designed a hidden obstruction in the cloth. The bag allows parishioners to drop in money, but also conversely prevents hands from going in and taking out any.
A final bit of fun and facts from a gem of a guide in a treasure trove of Scottish history.
