Rambles Round Glasgow, ca. 1850s
by Hugh MacDonald

 

Cambuslang and Dychmont

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Boylife of Town & Country

The boy-life of town and country are often compared, when conclusions are generally drawn very much to the disadvantage of the former. On the one hand, we are shown narrow lanes and filthy closes, noisome streets and evil influences without number; on the other, are enchantingly depicted green fields and sunny braes, clear gushing streams, and the sweet fellowship of birds and flowers..."What a dreary waste," we have heard remarked, "must be the memory of a town-bred man!" He has no langsyne recollections of paidlins in the burn, or gowan-gatherings on the bloomy braes; he cannot boast an old acquaintance in the belted bee, nor tell of joyous associations linked with the wild bird's song.

Town boys are continually making raids into the surrounding country. They know well when the first flowers begin to blow, and when the birds commence to build their nests. There are but few schoolboys even in the very heart of our own wide-spreading town, who do not know the season when the blueberry assumes the purple die of ripeness, or who could not guide you where the blackboyd hangs in autumn its jetty fruit...So strong indeed, and so general, is this rambling propensity in the boyhood of our city, that we know of spots even at five or six miles' distance from the Cross, which, in the time of nests, and at the period when the wild fruit is ripe, are perfectly thronged with the little pale-faced vagabonds. To gamekeepers and farmers far and wide these outpourings of urban juvenility are peculiarly vexatious, from their destructive effects on woods and fences; yet the lover of his kind will look with a charitable eye on their occasional depredations, and the philosopher will even see a wise provision of Nature in the yearning which prompts the young heart to leave its city home and wander forth to taste the freshness and beauty of the green fields.

Cambuslang Area

It was in our own haw-gathering and bird-nesting days that we first visited Cambuslang and its romantic environs...we make our way to Cambuslang along the south bank of the Clyde, which is perhaps a mile or two longer than the ordinary way...

Leaving the city by the suburb of Bridgeton, we cross the river by the elegant timber bridge at Dalmarnock, which leads to the coalpit of Farme. From the vicinity of the bridge a fine view is obtained of the ancient and castellated mansion of Farme, the seat of James Farie, Esq., which, half seen within its girdle of trees, is situated a few hundred yards to the south of the road. The period of which this edifice was erected is unknown, but from its architectural features it is evidently of great antiquity. ..altogether one of the most complete models of the baronial dwelling place of other days in the West of Scotland. In 1792 the proprietor had occasion to make some alterations in the interior of the house. In one room a ceiling of stucco was removed, when another of wood was discovered, with a number of curious inscriptions upon it, generally inculcating the practice of temperance and morality. These were written in the old English character, and were evidently of very ancient date:

"Fair speech in presence,
With good report in absence,
And manners even to fellowship
Obtains great reverence."

Written in the year 1325.

The estate of Farme is principally composed of an extensive and fertile haugh, which stretches out into a kind of peninsula formed by a bold sweep of the Clyde. It is said to have been for a considerable period a private property of the royal Stuarts. It afterwards passed through various hands; a family named Crawford held possession of it for many years; and about 1645 it belonged to Sir Walter Stewart of Minto. Ultimately, however, it fell into the possession of the Hamilton family, from whom it was purchased by the grandfather of the present proprietor.

About a hundred yards above Dalmarnock Bridge we leave the course of the Clyde, and by a road which cuts across a sort of isthmus, after a walk of a quarter mile or so, arrive again on the bank, at a point some two miles farther up the stream. At this place there is a fine row of trees through which in a picturesque vista is seen the village of Cambuslang, with its elegant church spire relieved against the green brow of Dychmont. Proceeding along the verdant margin of the Clyde, we soon arrive at the estate of Hamilton Farme, which consists of rich alluvial meadows...Opposite the promontory of Westthorn, a small streamlet called "Hamilton Farme Burn" runs into the Clyde...to the student of vegetation its fertile banks will abundantly repay a careful investigation...[list of wild plants]...[pp. 44-47]

An Ecological Digression

The channel seems to be a favourite haunt of the graceful wagtail tribe, and we well remember some half-dozen years ago having discovered the nest of a pair of kingfishers in a hole in one of the banks. This beautiful bird is well known to be exceedingly rare in the country round Glasgow, and even in Scotland...alas!...Some colliers in the neighbourhood had also observed the glittering plumage of the poor birds...for several weeks there was a constant series of lurking sportsmen hovering about...the nest was shortly afterwards deserted, and the kingfisher has not again appeared at the spot. We are sorry to say that a similar course of extermination seems to be pursued wherever a rare bird makes its appearance amongst us. Every now and again we see triumphant paragraphs in provincial newspapers narrating the destruction of ornithological curiosites as if it were a matter on which we should congratulate ourselves...We have no sympathy with these ruthless collectors of specimens, and would much rather hear of one living addition to our country's fauna than of twenty names added to the catalogue of a museum. Many well-meaning people complain of our game-laws...but we feel persuaded that, were they once abolished, a very brief period indeed would see the utter extinction of many species of wild animals which presently enliven and adorn our rural landscapes...In France, where there are no restrictions on the destruction of "vermin," as friend Bright calls the protected animals, there is now no vermin to kill; they have all disappeared, and you may travel for days in that country and scarcely see or hear a solitary bird. The same thing has occurred in the more densely populated States of America. There every man has a gun, and unbounded liberty to use it...the ferae naturae have been almost totally extirpated. A friend of ours, who travelled lately through a considerable portion of the New England States, assures us that he has wandered about for weeks without seeing a single bird, unless perhaps an occasional crow, the shyness of which abundantly manifested its acute perception of the danger which continually impended over it in the deadly Yankee rifle. [pp. 47-49]

Rosebank & David Dale

Passing along the green banks of Hamilton Farme, a pleasant walk of about a mile and a half brings us to Rosebank, the seat of the late David Dale, Esq. The house is plain and somewhat old-fashioned, telling of times when architectural taste had not attained such a respectable level among Glasgow merchants as it has in our own day. The situation, however--a sloping bank which rises gradually from the winding Clyde--is truly delicious, while the house is perfectly embowered among its fine old trees and spacious gardens. The property of Rosebank is now in the possession of the Caledonian Railway Company; and the place has a somewhat dreary and neglected aspect. David Dale, as is well known, was one of the most eminent and most venerated merchants of our city...born of humble parentage at Stewarton, in Ayrshire, about the year 1739, and was for some time engaged as herd-boy to a farmer in that neighbourhood. He afterwards served an apprenticeship to the weaving trade in Paisley, from whence he removed to Hamilton, where he wrought for some time at the loom in the capacity of journeyman. From this humble beginning, Mr. Dale gradually raised himself by his industry and perseverance, to the condition of a merchant prince in the manufacturing capital of the west. He was the founder of the extensive cotton-works at Lanark and Blantyre, in both of which places, but more especially the former, he made abundant provision for the physical, moral, and religious improvement of his operatives. Thither he transplanted also, from time to time, numerous orphans and other poor children from the city, instilling into them habits of industry, and attending faithfully to their educational necessities. He was thus instrumental in preserving many from the contamination of those vices which ever lurk in the recesses of our large towns, and which find such a plenteous and dark harvest among the unfortunate children of neglect. In his latter days he became a magistrate in our city, in which character, as well as in that of employers, he gained golden opinions from all classes of men. Among the working people he was generally known as "the benevolent bailie." Mr. Dale died in 1806, leaving behind him a princely fortune to be divided among his five daughters, and a name which is still, after the lapse of half-a-century, venerated among his townsmen. [pp. 49-51]

Morriston

Immediately adjacent to Rosebank are the house and fine grounds of Morriston, the property of John Bain, Esq. The house is a plain quadrangular edifice of considerable extent. It is situated on a gentle eminence, about 300 yards from the river...Everything about the place has an exceedingly tasteful and tidy appearance...Altogether, we should imagine, from appearances around his domicile, that Mr. Bain must have the phrenological bump of "order" pretty largely developed. [Note: Phrenology was a pseudo-science in vogue during the 19c whereby people were analysed via the bumps on their head.]

At the eastern extremity of the Morriston estate the Kirk-burn of Cambuslang falls into the Clyde, at a spot called "the Thief's Ford," and at which, according to tradition, Mary Queen of Scots crossed the river in her flight from Langside. this little streamlet has its origin at Easterhill, on the borders of Carmunnock, about 2.5 miles to the south. From its devious tendencies, however, it is indeed the very model of a Scottish burn, and does not seem to know its own mind two consecutive minutes.

Cambuslang Village

...we now proceed towards the village of Cambuslang, which lies about half-a-mile to the south of the Clyde at this point. On the one side are the fertile lands of Morriston, on the other the finely-wooded grounds of Westburn. [order vs. neglect]

The estate of Westburn is the property of John Graham, Esq., of Craigallian, who, not being a resident on the spot, has apparently left it very much for several years to the freedom of its own will...to "hang as it grows." The pleasure grounds, at one period most elegant, are overrun with weeds, while the fine old trees are sadly in lack of a tasteful pruning. The burn is in some places nearly choked with sedges and rushes...

Cambuslang is rather a cluster of villages than one united township. It is divided into two portions by a deep ravine, down which the waters of the burn pursue their course towards the Clyde. On the SE side are Kirkhill, Vicarton and Sauchiebog; on the other, Bushiehill, Silverbank and Westcoats. From the elevated and uneven nature of the ground on which it is built, Cambuslang presents from many points of view a highly romantic appearance. The houses with very few exceptions. are of the plainest description. Most of them, however, have kail-yards attached to them; and we are pleased to see, that besides the necessary kitchen vegetables, a considerable proportion have small plots devoted to the culture of flowers. The population is principally composed of weavers and colliers, with a sprinkling of masons and agricultural labourers.

Near Sauchiebog, where we enter the village, and immediately on the edge of the ravine or glen, we are shown the place where a chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, once stood. This edifice, which was founded and endowed in 1379, by William Monypenny, rector of Cambuslang, has long been removed, not the slightest vestige of it being now in existence. Four acres of land, are still, however, called "the Chapel Croft." The railway from Glasgow to Hamilton passes almost over the site of the chapel...the church lies about the third of a mile farther up. Although we have considerable difficulty in making our way, by leaping form stone to stone [uphill via a creekbed], we are amply repaid for our labour by the wild beauty of the scenery. The sides of the ravine are of the most rugged and tangled description. composed of stratified rocks of sandstone and shale, The vegetation also is unusually profuse. There are several fine springs in the glen, at which groups of girls from the village, with their water pitchers, are generally congregated lending an additional charm to the landscape. One of these springs, called "the Borgie well," is famous for the quality of its water, which, it is jocularly said, has a deteriorating influence on the wits of those who habitually use it. We were informed by a gash old fellow who once helped us to a draught of it, they are sure to turn "half-daft," and will never leave Cambuslang if they can help it. We can assure such of our readers as may venture to taste it that they will find a bicker of it a treat of no ordinary kind, more especially if they have threaded the mazes of the glen, as we have been doing, under the vertical radiance of a July sun. [pp. 52-54]

Cambuslang Church

The parish church of Cambuslang is finely situated on a natural terrace which rises to a considerable height above the burn, which meanders in graceful curves around its base. we really think that the burying-ground, with its fine old elms and quiet secluded aspect, is one of the most pleasing specimens of the "country church-yeard" which we have ever witnessed.

We find nothing remarkable among the gravestones. They are generally of the plainest and most unpretending description.

The church of Cambuslang is an exceedingly elegant structure of modern erection, forming with its beautiful spire a fine feature in the landscape for miles around. In the vicinity of the church is a manse, a handsome building surrounded by an extensive and tastefully-arranged garden, and the parish school, a commodious and tidy-looking establishment. Besides this, we understand there is another large school-house in the village, so that there seems to be no lack of provision for the educational wants of the juvenile population. [pp.54-55]

The Cambuslang "Wark" 1742--"Gimmee that Old Time Religion..."

A little to the east of the church there is a spacious natural amphitheatre, formed on the green side of the ravine...This was the scene of an extraordinary religious excitement in 1742. Mr. M'Culloch, then minister of the parish, was in the habit of conducting public worship in this beautiful spot, and so effectual were his ministrations that crowds began to flock from all parts of the surrounding country to hear him, under the impression that a special outpouring of the Divine Spirit had there been vouchsafed. Meetings for prayer and praise were for a considerable time held daily, and symptoms of an extraordinary kind began to be manifested. In the New Statistical Account we find the following description of this curious affair, which is known as "the Cambuslang wark."

"The first prominent effects of these multiplied services occurred on the 8th of Feb. Soon after, the sacrament was given twice in the space of five weeks, [twice a year was more common] on the 11th of July and on the 15th of August. Mr. Whitfield had arrived from England in June, and many of the most popular preachers of the day hastened to join him at Cambuslang--such as Messrs. Willison of Dundee, Webster of Edinburgh, M'Knight of Irvine, M'Lauring of Glasgow, Currie of Kinglassie, etc. The sacrament on the 15th August was very numerously attended. One tent was placed at the lower extremity of the amphitheatre above alluded to, near the joining of the two rivulets, and here the sacrament was administered. A second tent was erected in the church yard, and a third in a green field a little to the west of the first tent. Each of these was attended with great congregations, and it has been estimated that not less then 30,000 people attended on that occasion. Four ministers preached on the Fast-day, four on Saturday, Fourteen or fifteen in Sunday, and five on Monday. There were 25 tables, about 120 at each, in all 3,000 communicants. Many of these came from Glasgow, about 200 from Edinburgh, as many from Kilmarnock and from Irvine and Stewarton, and also some from England and Ireland. 'The Cambuslang wark' continued for six months, from 8th February to 15th August 1742. The number of persons converted at this period cannot be ascertained. Mr M'Culloch, in a letter to Mr. Robb, dated 30th April 1751, writes them at 400, of which number 70 were inhabitants of Cambuslang." --A couple of old hawthorn trees near the margin of the burn are pointed out as marking the position where Whitfield, the famous preacher, stood on this occasion, and marvellous stories are told of his powerful voice, which according to tradition was heard for miles around. In 1842, the centenary of the strange occurrence we have described, sermons were preached on this spot; and more recently the echoes of the glen have been awakened by the potent eloquence of Chalmers, who preached here to an immense auditory. By all accounts the Cambuslang people would be nothing the worse of another revival. We are assured they are anything but a kirk-going people now-a-days. The parish minister has too often to complain of indifferently filled pews; while a large Dissenting meeting-house at the west end of the village, has actually been closed for lack of support.

While we linger at this place, groups of happy boys are paidlin' in the burn which flows sweetly past--a fair-haired lassie is herding cattle on the preaching brae... [Apparently, boys ramble and girls work!] [pp.55-57]

Gilbertfield

South of the village of Cambuslang, the ground gradually rises to the hills of Turnlaw and Dychmont, the latter of which was long used by our Druidical forefathers as a station for their blazing beltain fires. Towards this fine hill, which is about 1.5 miles from Kirkhill, we now proceed by a very pleasant path, passing Cairns and Gilbertfield. The old castellated house of Gilbertfield stands in a commanding situation near the foot of Dychmont. It is a picturesque old edifice, with peaked gables and a couple of small turrets. There are several armorial carvings over the windows, and it appears to have been erected in 1607, as that date is still legible on the eastern wall. Lt. William Hamilton, a Scottish poet of some distinction, resided within its walls for many years. He was a contemporary and correspondent of the celebrated Allan Ramsay...Several compositions by Hamilton, of considerable merit, are to be found in all collections of old Scottish poetry. Of these, an Elegy on Habby Samson, the famous piper of Kilbarchan, is generally considered the best. From a line in this curious production, it would appear that it was formerly customary in Scotland to have a bagpiper playing to the reapers while they were engaged on the harvest field. In lamenting the loss of Habby, with his skirling pipes, the author says, --

"Wha will gar our shearers shear?
Wha will bend up the brags of weir?"

In 1722 Hamilton published a translation from the ancient into the modern Scottish dialect, of Henry the Minstrel's Metrical Life of Wallace. It is generally admitted to be much inferior in vigour and gracefulness of expression to the original . It has, however, rendered this interesting work familiar to many who might otherwise have been scared from its perusal by the difficulties of an almost obsolete tongue.

Towards the termination of his life, Hamilton resided at Letterick, on the south of Dychmont, where he died in 1751, at an advanced age.

The house of Gilbertfield is fast falling into a ruinous state. It was lst inhabited by a gamekeeper in the employ of the Duke of Hamilton. This individual, a stalwart Englishman, was accidentally shot by a young man belonging to this city a few years since. After this melancholy occurrence it was deserted, and is now only used as a kind of storehouse by Mr. Weir, a neighbouring farmer. A number of the apartments are entire, and might yet be rendered habitable; the winds, however, have free entrance by the shattered windows, and the walls have already begun to manifest symptoms of dilapidation, while the swallow and the starling possession of its deserted chambers.

Cambuslang parish has given birth to several individuals who have attained distinction in the world of letters. It was the birth place of Mr. Loudon, the celebrated horticultural writer, and of Dr. Claudius Buchanan, the author of Asiatic Researches...Relations of the latter are still residing in the village. It is also whispered, sub rosa, that the clever authoress of Rose Douglas, a recent meritorious work of fiction, was born not quite a 100 miles from the manse of Cambuslang, and gleaned a number of the characters from real personages who lived, or are living within no very great distance.

Dychmont

...we now leave the dreary abode of the old poet and commence the ascent of Dychmont. A short though somewhat wearisome walk brings us to its brow, which is 600 feet above the ocean level. There were formerly traces of ancient building at this place, but they are now almost totally obliterated. The common nettle, however, grows about and it is well known that this seldom grows unless in the vicinity of habitation, or near places they have once been. In the depopulated Highland glens, the sites of the ancient clachans are generally marked by a profuse growth of the nettle. It is said that about 50 years ago ruinous remains were very extensive on Dychmont, but that they have been gradually removed for the purpose of building walls and constructing roads. Spirit of Oldbuck, what a desecration! But reverance for the antique does not seem to be a Cambuslang virtue. The Lady Chapel exists but in name; and the ancient castle of Drumsargard, which stood about a mile to the east of the church has totally vanished, the plough having long ago passed over its site. ...and that in a district where excellent sandstone is to be had almost for the lifting! [pp.60-61]

The End