The post-medieval period was characterised by major changes to agriculture in Perth and Kinross. In particular, upland areas saw an ending of traditional patterns of transhumance and subsistence farming. Instead, upland parts of Perth and Kinross became increasingly dominated by sheep farming and the management of land for deer and other game. This brought major alterations to upland landscapes, including the loss of traditional small fields ‘laid out for meadow hay’ and corn-fields rising ‘to a considerable height on the face of the highest mountains’ (Campbell 1802, 207). The move away from cattle farming in upland areas also had an impact on soil quality, as cows no longer broke up and dunged the earth.
The foundations for the reordering of agriculture in Perth and Kinross, and many other parts of Scotland, were laid in 1695 by legislation allowing local landowners to divide up common land, also known as commonties. The Scottish legislation on commonties differed significantly from the English laws on enclosure, and gave fewer rights to the tenants who already used common lands (Richards 2008). This paved the way for about half of the common land in Scotland to be claimed by private landowners – with major consequences for the viability of upland subsistence farming.
Traditionally, whilst common land was not cultivated, it was a valuable source of fuel, some seasonal foods and grazing for the animals of local tenants. The conversion of common lands to private ownership enabled landlords to restrict access and change the use of these areas (Callander 2003). It is possible that in Perth and Kinross the subdivision of common land was not originally intended as a way to move people, but by affecting the ability of local residents to practise subsistence farming it contributed to the abandonment or contraction of many upland settlements. There is some evidence of direct clearance of settlements in Perth and Kinross during the 18th century, but in the main the transformation of the region’s farming patterns seems to have been accomplished by economic pressure rather than by force (Richards 2008). Yet the consequences were still profound. When travelling near Loch Tay around 1800, Alexander Campbell commented that ‘an epidemic madness for sheep-grazing seems to rage’ before sadly reflecting that ‘the country has become desolate, and almost drained of its native inhabitants’ (Campbell 1802, 195).
The trend away from transhumance and subsistence farming in upland zones was reinforced by the decision of some major landowners, including the Duke of Atholl, to create much larger single tenancy farms. This had a major impact on land use and settlement patterns in areas such as Ben Lawers in the late 18th and early 19th centuries (Boyle 2009). The Ben Lawers Landscape Project used field survey, excavation and written evidence to gain a detailed insight into the processes by which agriculture was transformed near Loch Tay (Atkinson 2016). Similar projects for other parts of Perth and Kinross would be desirable. In particular, there is a need for more research into early and mid-18th-century patterns of improvement and clearance. For example, there is evidence that in the 1740s and 1750s the Commissioners of Forfeited Estates undertook major changes in the Rannoch area. Interestingly this included the clearing of traditional subsistence farmers to make way for cattle, rather than the sheep which characterised many later efforts at improvement (Stewart 1929).
It should be noted here that although the word ‘improvement’ was widely used in contemporary records, it is a loaded term. The notion of ‘improvement’ arguably underplays the negative aspects of this process of transformation, including the loss of biodiversity. Further, it implies that previous agricultural regimes were in need of improvement, and were bettered by the alterations of the 18th and 19th centuries. Similarly, the term ‘clearance’ is arguably a euphemistic way to describe often traumatic changes to rural patterns of settlement and landholding. As a result, both ‘improvement’ and ‘clearance’ are increasingly being seen as problematic terms, and further discussion about the appropriate terminology for these processes of change would be desirable.
Much more research is also needed into the impact of the agricultural revolution and the processes of so-called ‘improvement’ in lower lying areas of Perth and Kinross. Although the redrawing of settlement patterns seems to have been less extensive in the lowlands than in the uplands, the post-medieval period still saw major changes to farming. According to Alexander Campbell, the final years of the 18th century saw significant ‘improvement in agriculture along the whole course of the Tay, but especially around Perth’. Campbell claimed that in the ten years before he visited the area the value of the land had ‘risen to a degree hitherto unparalleled’, a development he attributed to ‘well-directed knowledge with regard to soil, mode of culture, and management’ (Campbell 1802, 348).
Written records provide considerable insights into farming practices in the area around the Tay. For example, the minister of St Madoes in the 1790s noted that ‘wheat, barley, oats, clover, grass, pease and beans’ were the ‘ordinary crops’ in his parish, ‘together with a small quantity of potatoes and flax’, which were typically rotated ‘pretty nearly’ in line with ‘the most approved method of agriculture’ (Black 1792, 571). The minister also remarked that there was very little pasture in the area and that the ‘horses and cattle are chiefly fed within doors’.
More systematic study of written records, including estates papers and the Statistical Accounts, combined with physical evidence might significantly advance our understanding of how agriculture evolved in Perth and Kinross during the post-medieval period, and the diversity of practices between different localities.
Partly enabled by the rising profitability of the land, the 18th and 19th centuries saw the construction of numerous new agricultural buildings – many of which still stand today. Among other structures, farmers often constructed horse-gins, distinctive circular buildings designed to house horse-driven machinery, and a significant number of these structures have been recorded in the region (Hume 1977). These were sometimes added to existing threshing barns which had opposing doors. The circular type resulted from the use of small Perthshire slates on sarking, unlike the octagonal pantiled form on battens favoured in Fife and the Lothians. Current pressures on farming, and much larger farm machinery, mean that a considerable proportion of agricultural buildings may be vulnerable to dereliction, destruction or conversion in the near future. Careful recording of post-medieval farms in the region should be a priority. It would also be desirable to see more recording of field boundaries and other land features likely to be removed during the amalgamation of older fields into larger units.
Perth and Kinross has a long tradition of fruit growing, particularly in the area around the River Tay. There are records of orchards in the Carse of Gowrie during the Middle Ages. The post-medieval period saw an expansion in fruit growing and efforts to cultivate new varieties. It has been suggested that the ‘most productive’ period for orchards in the Carse of Gowrie was during the late 18th and early 19th centuries (Hayes 2008, 5). By the 1880s, the orchards by the Tay were already struggling to compete with imported fruit, and further decline took place during the 20th century. There has been some recent research into orchards in the Carse of Gowrie (Hayes 2008; Hall 2010). However, more investigation would be desirable, particularly as a combination of poor maintenance and development pressures mean that few of the remaining orchards are likely to survive in the long term. Study of fruit growing in other parts of Perth and Kinross is likewise needed.
Overall, we need much more interdisciplinary research regarding food and drink in post-medieval Perth and Kinross. Written records suggest that by the 18th century the diet of the gentry in Perth and Kinross was increasingly aligned with that of people of a similar rank in other parts of Britain. For example, a dinner at Dunkeld in 1727 featured dishes such as white fish, roast beef, pork ‘with claret and currant sauce’, minced pies and pasties, as well as five bottles of brandy, 38 bottles of claret and a considerable quantity of ale (Anonymous 1798, 443–4). Greater understanding of the diet of the region’s elites in the 17th century, and whether this was more distinctively regional, would be of interest, as would study of the food and drink consumed by less affluent households throughout the post-medieval period.
In general, post-medieval food archaeology is a surprisingly neglected topic, with many studies of diet in this era disproportionately focusing on written evidence. This phenomenon is not unique to Perth and Kinross but is a wider British trend (Thomas 2015, 188–9). Yet there is a growing awareness that archaeology can make a valuable contribution to our understanding of food production, processing, preparation and consumption in even the relatively recent past. In particular, archaeological approaches can enhance our knowledge of living standards and patterns of consumption in less privileged communities where written records may be more patchy (Newman and McNeil 2007). However, even where documentary sources for food survive, archaeological approaches may broaden our understanding of post-medieval diets. Recent interdisciplinary research on 19th-century England suggests that ‘neither documentary nor archaeological evidence can individually provide a complete picture of food consumption’ (Thomas 2015, 206). To gain a more nuanced overview of the diets of the post-medieval residents of Perth and Kinross, we need more comparison of information from written sources with the evidence from ceramics, glassware, archaeobotany and animal and human remains.