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'^. J^. Coombes - fi.-th.-^r/..^ ^ 


1^JsST& JilJV the OO.A.ST. 
Bt huqh itacdonald. 

FMp. 8vo, oloth, is. 6d. 



Ediiob of the ** Glasgow Cmzzn." 

My dear Sir, ^ 

The thread of the gossamer, ^^ a trifle light 
as air," shows th^ way of the wind ; the evanescent foam- 
bell upon the surface of the stream indicatea the tendency 
of the current; and the dedication of my little book may 
serve to manifest the drifl of my feelings towards one 
whom I regard as a friend and benefactor. Permit me 
therefore to inscribe it to you, with every senthnent of 
respect and gratitude. 

Yours faithfully, 


July, 1854. 




It 18 almost nnnecessary to mention that the series of 
articles of which the present volume is composed were 
originally published, with the signature of " Caleb" attached 
to them, in the columns of the Glasgow Citizen newspaper, 
where they appeared at intervals during the course of three 
successive years. The Rambles were written with the in- 
tention of conveying to the readers of that journal some 
knowledge of the principal landscape features of the country 
within a circle of from eight to ten miles round Glasgow, 
with a resume of the Historical, Biographical, and Traditional 
associations of the various localities included within the 
scope we h&re indicated. The district of which Glasgow 
is the centre, while it possesses many scenes of richest Low- 
land beauty, and presents many glimpses of the stem and 
wild in Highland landscape, is peculiar^ ftrtile in remi- 
niscences of a historical nature. In the latter respect, indeed, 
it is excelled by few localities in Scotland, — a circumstance 
of which many of our citizens seem to have been hitherto 
almost unconscious. There is a story told of a gentleman 
who, having boasted that he had travelled far to see a 
celebrated landscape on the Continent, was put to the blush 
by being compelled to own that he had never visited a scefw^ 
of superior loveliness which was situated upon his own 
estate, and near which he had spent liie greater portion of 
his life. The error of this individual, however, is one of 
which too many are guilty. We have thousands amongst 
ourselves who can boast of theix iiaxttii"Mr&^ ^w^iSa. "^'iSk ^^s^- 
dew ofoHhor Jandi^ yet nJio "Uove iics«c \jcwifc^ "Qaa.^xfiSSssi?^ 


of the Clyde, the Cart, or the Kelvin, and who have never, 
dreamed of visiting the stately ruins of Both well, or of pene- 
trating that sanctum of Gothic magnificence, the crypt of 
our own venerable Cathedral I To such parties we would 
say, that admiration, like charity, should begin at home ; 
and that there are many things of beauty and of interest to 
be met with in the course of a brief ramble among the 
environs of our own city. 

To those who may desire to famiiarize themselves with 
the topographical features, the historical associations, and 
the antiquarian remains of the country round Glasgow, the 
present volume will, it is hoped, prove in some respects a 
useful companion and guide. Hie information which it 
embodies is the harvest of many a pleasant excursion 
through woods and fields, of many a delightful research 
among curious old tomes and chronicles of the past Its com- 
position was, in truth, a labour of love. During the pere- 
grinations to which it led many valued fiiendships, many 
genial acquaintanceships were formed; and the best wish 
which we can frame for the readers who may honour us by 
following in our footsteps is, that they may everywhere ex- 
perience as much civility, as much kindness, and as much 
hospitality as fbll to our own share. Should such be the 
case, reader and author will alike have pleasure in the 
remembrance of Rambles bound Glasgow. 

H. M'D. 

92 John Stbbet, Bbidobton, 
Ju^ 26, 1854. 


The first edition of the present Work, although of consi- 
derable extent, was exhausted within a few months of its 
publication. Since then there have been numerous inquiries 
for it; and it has consequently been deemed advisable to 
issue the present new, and, it is hoped, in many respects 
improTed edition. The various " Rambles" have been care- 
fully gone over; mistakes where they had crept in have 
been corrected ; notes have been freely introduced wherever 
they were thought necessary ; while a considerable amount 
of new matter has been introduced into the text. A frontis- 
piece of ^^ Crookston Castle," and a vignette of ^^Rutherglen 
Church," both from original drawings, and engraved by a 
first-class artist, will, it is hoped, contribute, along with its 
other features of novelty, to render the present edition even 
more acceptable to the public than its predecessor. 

H. WD. 

92 JoHJf Sthbbt, Bbidqbto:!* 
Glasgow, Avgwtl^ 1866L 


Ko. Pagb 

I. ^THE PUBLIC GREEN, . • . 11 












Xni. — OLENIFFER AND ELDERSLIE, . . ' 239-, 












Fbw towns can boast such *a spacious and beautiful public 
park as the Green of Glasgow, with its wide-spreading 
lawns, its picturesque groups of trees, its far-winding walks, 
its numerous delicious springs, and, above all, its rich com- 
mand of scenery. The " lungs of London " may exceed it 
in extent of surface and in artificial adornment, but in beauty 
of ntuation and variety of prospect, our own Green certainly 
surpasses any of the street-girt metropolitan breathing-places. 
The Green of Glasgow lies to the south-east of the city, on 
the north bank of the Clyde, which, in a fine bold sweep, 
forms its southern boundary. It embraces Jn all about 140 
imperial acres, and is surrounded by a carriage«4riYe two 
and a-half miles in length, besides being intersected in evory 
direction by gravelled walks, overhung in some instanceis 
by the foliage of stately trees, which forms a pleasant screen 
from the noon-day sun or the pelting shower ; while every 
here and there seats have been erected for the convenieoce 
of the weary lounger. 

At what period the nucleus of this handsome park first 
became the property of the community cannot now be ascer- 
tained ; but it is supposed to have formed part of a grant 
which was made by Jamea t\ie ^wsiA ^i ^^sRj^sas^Si. \Rk "*. 
oertam William Tumbull, Lord oi ^xo^^o. «sA. ^\^^^ ^"^ 






Glasgow, on the 20th of April, 1450. lo the docnment 
conferring the gift, the piouH monarch declaroa that, " for the 
praiae of Almighty God, and of the glorioua Vir^n Mary, 
and the bliaaed Kentigem, patron and confessor of the 
Churcli of Glasgow, and for the love nhich we bear to tbu 
Bercrend Father in Christ, William, present Bishop in said 
Church, we havo given to the said Bi[<hop and his successors 
for ever, the City of Glasgow, Barony of Glasgow, and lands 
commonly called the Bishop's Forest, with their perlments in 
woods, plains, meadows, marshel, ."pw^urages," &c., &c. 
This, it will be admitted, wna a right i^al gift. To build a 
bridge or a church was, in the " good old times," recltoned 
a pretty safe passport with St. Peter ; and it is to be hoped 
that such a handsome doriation as the above would win for 
tha regai donor {it mere hoy, by the by !) the especial favour 
of Mother Church, and secure for him aflcr death a rapid 
passage through the dreary labyrinths of purgatory. If the 
Green, howeyer, was included in the pious grant of the un- 
fortunate James, who was subseq^uently killed at the siege of 
Roxburgh by the bursting of a cannon, ic was at all events 
oH^nally of much smaller dimensions than it is in our day. 
Fromdmetotime, with praiseworthy spirit, the authorities, as 
the dty increased in extent, secured adjacent portions of ter- 
ritory, Qnta in 1792, by the purchase of the FlKshers' Hangh 
from Patrick Bell, Esq. of Cowcaddens, the Green uUimately 
attainedica present size. The improvement of these epaoious 
gronnds has also been effected in a gradual manner. At no 
very distant date they were traversed by the Redclaith Gott, 
Iw Camlachie Bum, as it is now called, and also by the 
Holendhiar rivulet ; while, from the lowness of the banks at 
certain places, they were liable to he overflowed by every 
spnte in the river; nnd even at spring-tides, pools and 
islands were oceaBiotially formed on their surCice. From the 
period of the Revolution until tbo present lime, a succession 
of improve™ eots on the Green have been efl'ectively carriatl 

M Jinjjrovenieois on iiie vjrecn uave ueuii euecuveiy cametj^* 

I out. The landward boundary is protected by walls aOflH 
lZZ 1 


lingB— banks have been formed to restrain tbe 
jftiie rJTer — moist placea have been drained — tlie Molen- 
vud Camlacbie bums have been arehed over, and are 
onveyed by invisible ebannuls to the Cljde— hollows 
wbeen filled up — inequalities have been levelled — trees 
bn iwen planted — and enclosures haye been formed ; while 
e general aspect has been greatly ameliorated and benuti- 
Amoog tbe more prominent benefaclors of the Green ' 
■ limes past, were Provosts Peter and Georf;B Murdoch, 
pistlerof whom formed the fine serpentine walks, bordered 
111 dirnbbery, whieh are still remembered by the old inha- 
9, but which were removed in consequence of certain 
eg to which they were occasionally liable. In our own 

■ ihelate Dr. Clelland diatingiiislied himself by his ittlen- 

■ to the amonitiea of the Green: under his auspices the 
idid EHrriage-drive was formed, and many other itnprove- 

pnta effected. More recently. Councillor Moir baa deserv- 
g gained golden opinions by his exertions in the same 
Hi and when his projected ameliorations arc completed, 
i Green will undoubtedly present an appearance ■vastly 
o whnt baa hitherto been wilneesed, and which will 
enge comparison with that of any public park in the 

B defence of tbeir privileges the craftsmen of Glasgow 
ever been honourably distinguished. It was to their 
c-spiiited reaslance to the iconodastie fury of tie 
RefbrniBtion that we are indebted for tbe preservation of 
our beautiful Cathedral. The same determined spirit has 
been evoked on several occasions in defence of the Orccn. 
I 17U the Provost and Magistrates were desirous of 
Bog a portion of it, and irere only dissuaded from the act 
> cUmoroug opposition which the proposal excited. 
E'VSrioiu subsequent occasions encroachments on tlic 
a kave been attempted, und in some instancofl even to 
'l extent efTccted ', but bwcVWs \-o.imv^M''>«'sa. ***- 
^«ut«i bj iiwftM.ttm «^ ■iia ■oaS.'ii«^\ *i»^ ''^^^ 


have genornlly proted abortive. Manj of our readers n 
remember the outburst of popular feeling which occurred a! 
few years since, on the erection of a thaatre upon the vacant 
apace opposite the public Jail, and also the vigorous opposi- 
tion with which the proposal to cany a. railway over i 
portion of the Green was received. It is but fair, however, 
to mention, that onr dvic authorities, notwithstanding thi 
occasional exceptions alludetl to, have geaeraliy provec 
iaithful giiitrdians of the public park, and have expended,! 
with an ungrudging liberality, the large sums originallj 
rerjuired for its extension, and Eubsequently for its improve- 
ment and embellishment. In the hands of o 
enlightened and public- spirited Magistracy and Council, th< 
ratizena have happiiy nothing to fear with regard to 
preservation of such a. valuable privilege as the Green ; 
were it otherwise, we have the utmost confidence that 
modem craftsmen are not unworthy of their a 
like them are possessed 

" Of bnrtn tgvIvbiI, a.u& Itinds prepared. 
The blHBltiei tbty Qbjiiy ta gaord," 

and that any violation of the popular territory would ossui^ 
edly be met with an uncompromising resistance. 

Baving thus glanced, in a cursory manner, at the 
and gradual increase and improvement of the Glasgoil 
Green, let us now indulge ouraclves with a leisurely stroll 
within its precincts. It is a, bciiuliful day in this merriest 
month of the year, and issuing from the sweltering and 
bustling streets, the verdure even of the much-trodden sward 
brings a pleasing sense of freshness to the eye of him who, 
long " in populous city pent," has yearned to see the bright 
livery of woods and fields. The welcome sunshine, penetrat- 
ing even into wynds and vennelfl, with its golden 
from on high, has called forth their wan and filthy inbal 
tants in iwarms. In the vicinity of' the Saltmarket, whi 
wB iiMve made our entree, the Green is all alive witb scjuuli 
fraiips, the chUdica of misery and vicf, Eygviiliid. b^ tt 


radiance of the summer noon, they have sneaked forth, for a 
brief interval, from their reeky and noisome haunts, to 
breathe for a time the eomparatively ** caller air.** Unfor- 
tanate females, with faces of triple brass hiding hearts of 
unutterable woe — sleeping girls, who might be mistaken 
for lifeless bundles of ngs— down-looking scoundrels, with 
felony stamped on every feature — owlish- looking knaves, 
minions of the moon, dralking half-ashamed at their own 
appearance in the eye of day; and, alas! poor little tattered 
and hungry-looking children, with precocious lines of care 
opon their old-mannish features, tumbling about on the brown 
and sapless herbage. The veriest dregs of Glasgow society, 
indeed, seem congregated here. At one place a band of 
juvenile pickpockets are absorbed in a game at pitch-and- 
tosB ; at a short distance a motley crew are engaged putting 
the stone, or endeavouring to outstrip each other in a leap- 
ing bout, while oaths and idiot laughter mark the progress 
of their play. 

Yon must not confound these p^ies with whut are called 
the lower orders of our city. There is a deep within a deep 
in the social scale : to compare even the humblest woridng- 
man with such wretches, would be in truth a wicked libel. 
The industrious poor are now at their various useful, and 
therefore honourable occupations, and the heterogeneous 
crowd before you are the idle, the vicious, and the miser- 
able, — the very vermin, in short, of our civilization. Poor 
wretches ! let us not grudge them the limited portion of the 
Green where they invariably herd, — let us not take from 
misery its few hours of sunshine. If a Bums could be " wae 
to think upon yon den,** when musing on the author of evil 
and his fearful doom, surely we may spare a little of our 
sympathy for the poor erring outcasts of our own race. 
Their dens, in the bowels of the town, are the veriest hells 
upon earth. Sin and misery are truly synonymous terms, 
and bitter, indeed, is the wierd which the VdVa^ \\ife viJ^'s>Ol\i\.^^ 
jod the dishonest even in this Ufe must dre^. ^ ^ >&xi^^ 

here a leBson of honesty and industry could ba mora 
eflectao])}' learned tban amidst the haunts of indolence and 

Leaving this somewhat unsightly portion of the 

behbd (and fortunately it is of limited extent), a nalk of » ' 

few hundred yurdii by the niurgin of the Clyde brings n 

I to (he obelisk erected by the citizens to the memory of 

England's great Bival hero. This fjain and withal rather' 

inelegant structure was raised by public subscriptioi 

180C, while the popular enthusiasm excited by the victory 

of Trafalgar and the glorioua death of Nelson was still at 

" 3 height. It is constructed of freestoiip, and is in eleva- 

I tion about 144 ftct. On the 5th of August, 1810, tha 

I upper portion of thb massive monument was shattered by 

I lightning, during a violent thunder- storm. The damagsi 

oon repaired, but the track of the electric fluid i>' 

BtiU visible on the scarred sides of the structure. 

The green sloping banks in the vicinity of Nelson'a Monu- 
ment, during the summer months, are generally covered 
viith the snowy produce of the wasliing-tub, and present ttn' 
appearance of great cheerfiilness and animation, CountleM: 
I groups of wives, lasses, and buims are scattered about, ia,- 
1 every variety of attitude, among the acres of bleachmg linen, 
mons are occasionally found in stones, good practical' 
homilies might certainly be drawn from the varied contentt) 
of the crowded bleaching-gTeon, ITie character and condi- 
' tioD of countless families may be read with unerring ce 

n their display of textile hieroglyphics. The tidy housewife 
and the dirty drab are here dbtinguishablu at a glance,; 
Every little cluster tells its own tale. Here we have plenty* 
cleanliness, and comfort; there poverty, filth, and miserj, 
Tht neatly patched but spotless shirt tells of thrift combinsj 
with indigence; that dingy and tattered sheet, of untidinea 
alhed to waste. Here we have honest poverty striving t( 
keep up appearances ; tliere wretchedness and want, careleH 
of cbaracter or name. That smart-handed Mid sUa^ping 

'niden may well glance with pride at the dazzling result of 
IiermoroiDg's toil; wliile this languid alattem, in "the garish 
tja of d«j," exhibits, perhaps iinnonsdously, her ahortcoro- 
n^ End her gbome. Bachelors of the operative class, in 
ihalr benedietive i-eseurches, should really pay oceasjonul 
viBia Ig the hleuthing-g^pen. The churacter of a sweetlieart, 
"c can assure them, mAy be learned more effectually there 
Ulan ettber at kirk or nliBrkct. 

Fusing Am's "Well, vhich is famed for the quality of its 
*ltfT, tnd which received its name irom a group of alder ■ 
(Saatiee, "am") trees, whieh formerly gvaci^d the spot, we 
imvent the Humane Society House, A numerous fleet of 
pgs and jolly-boats are either moored or moving ubont on 
ifm breast of the Clyde at this spot. Of late j'ears numerous 
public worhs have sprung up on the eouth side of the stream 
me; and as many hundreds of the operatives engaged in 
lliein reside in Calton and Bridgeton, it has been found 
«JviMi)ie tfl erect an elegant suBpension bridge at the spot, 
for the GODTenience of foot-passengers. Previously to the 
efei-tion of this structure, the only means of transit waa by 
ferry-boats, which in times of spate, and indeed at all seaaons, 
^KMre anything but convenient or safe. It is prlnuipally to 
^^■texertions of ex-haJiie Harvey that the public are indebted 
^^nc the superior accommodation aflordcd by the handsome 
^^ridge which now spans the Clyde at this place, and which 
sIk) lends such a line additional feature to the neighbouring 
Iindscape. He it was who first broached the idea at the 
Council Board, and who subsequently got the Bill authoriz- 
its erection carried through Parliament. The structure 
completed and thrown open to the public in the Butnua 
1865- A moderate pontage is charged from passengers ; 
it is aaUsfactory to add, that even as a mercantile specu- 
U is likely to prove a decided benefit to the Corpora- 
All honour then, say we, to Mr. Harvey; and may 
has been po-^ae4, \«. *B(*ira»M*>- -«-s^ '^'^ 
fill and mosl ostl\i\ alrucVxnt Vto-^ "^"^ ■asJ^'etosi 



^^f owe to his public-spirited exertions. The bonk imiDe^ately 
^H aboTS and beloir the Humane Societj House, irhich la 
^1 peculiarly rich in springs, haa been greatly improved of late 
' under tbe superintendence of the Green Committee. An 

urtificial embankment h&s been formed and covered nltb 
turf; while walks have been tastefiilly laid off; and, as in 
the case at several other places, a dtuop of trees and ahruh- 
bery has been planted, and an enclosure formed for its pro- 
tection. These gentlemen certainly deserve tbe gratitude of 
I their fellow- citizens for their ceaseless efforta to improve and 
beautify the Green. We are doublfiil, however, as to the 
degree of success which may attend their sylvan experiments. 
While the fine rugged old elms and stately beeches are yearly 
perishing in scores under the baneful induencea of smoke, 
how can we expect that tender young plants in sudi a sitna- 
tion will thrive? Never, we verily believe, were trees so 
shocidngly maltreated — so stifled with carbonic eahalaliona 
^ao begrimed with sofit— ait those in that UDfortuaate 
middle compartment. Our' ever-extending manufactures 
threaten indeed their speedy extinction. Tbe westling winds 
bring Buflibcation to them from the Nursery mills ; the Orient 
blasts come laden with death from the Bridgeton factories; 
while the stormy north sweeps down on their devoted heads 
with the congregated vapours of the city's ten tbouaand 
chimneys. " Of a' the airts the wind can blaw," these really 
ill-fated trees have only reason to love the south. It alone 
has the slightest compassion upon them ; while its visitations 
in our climate are unfortunately as rare almost as those of 
Tom Campbell's angels. No wonder they have a dolefial, 
black, and melancholy look; no wonder they are dying off 
year by year, and threatening soon to leave our once well- 

I wooded park a dreary untimbered wwte. It was a part of 
Wordsworth's poetical creed that plants have a sort of sentient 
CKisteDce, and that they really enjoy tbe suaahltte nnd the 
shower. We confess, in a certain degree, to a similar belief, 
nod consider k almost a species of ctucUy V) ■^\attt, tluiw i 

pnnr javmile foresllings wliere their stem old seniors are 
imohle to keep their poBition. Let U8 first do our spiriting 
*'ilb the Tomitories of Bmoke. Let Jukea, or soma other 
iQMiy of the atmosphere-defiling demon, wrest their duskj- 
I'limiM, their leaf- destroying vapotirs, from the tJil! ciiimneys, 
and then let ds d'tbbla in our saplingg at every spare nook. 
Hnlil the " nuiaance" a at least in some measure abated, we 
ire permsded that tree culture lu the Green will prove to 

II is a fact not generally known, that it was in Glasgow 
•'■rucn, near the site of the Humane Society House, that the 
'iet of bis great improvement on the steam-engine first 
Hmhed upon the mind of the immortal Jnmes Watt. The 
giMl engineer was at that period philosophical instrument 
Biker to the University. In this capacity a small working 
Bode] of Newcomen's atmospheric engine waa sent to him 
ftr repair by Professor Anderson. While the machine was 
iljll in his possession for this purpose be went out alone, on 
• SuaJoy afternoon, to take bis customaiy walk on the 
'Jrceo. His mind was naturally enough directed to the eoa- 
icmplittian of the priociples upon which the engine which he 
bd been repairing was constructed, and just as he was 
pugtBg Arn's Well, the happy thought struck him, that by 
oondenaing the steam in a separate vessel, instead of in tlie 
fjlinder, as tt had hitherto been done, an immense saving of 
Inel might be cHccted, Had Watt been an ancient Greek 
lie would probably, on such an ctccaaion, have rushed across 
the Greeni shouting "Eureka! Eureka!" but eanny Siuit 
as, and probably in wholesome dread of the Kirk- 
Mon, lie pursued his leisurely thoughtful walk, aod 
ing to his own account of the matlra', as related to a 
hlj respectable gentleman of this city, who is still amongst 
] AlUy mastered the details of hjs grand diacavcry 
e retHrtiing home. Immediately thereafter, in conceit 
W-'hS' •pprentice, Mr. Jo\ia QiMiRCT, -^Vq -«^ ■bSob*.- 
■> ftr many years a Ta&\Ve\a&'CiMi"«^\^^''^'»^"^^^*^^'^ "" 


this city, he constructed a model of tlie ateam-en^ine accort 

to hig new and improved method. Tliis wrought adroi) 
ably. The first experiment on a large 8calc took plac« at 
coal mine near the Carron Ironworks, when his eipectatioi 

e folly justified, and he was induced to take out a patei 
for " saving steam aod fuel in fire-engine!!." Such was t) 
origin of that mighty power which has sinee done ao inu( 
for the advimcemGnt of modem civilization. Of the authel 
ticity of the preceding statement there can he no doubt, i 
yiB have it directly from tlie gentleman to whom Wa 
himself communicated the circumstance. May we not I 
proud of such an aasouiation in connection with our beautif 
Green? * 

We have liinted that Watt may have had the fear of d 
Kirk-SesMon before hb eyes during his memorable Snndi 
ramble. Nor in those days would the fear have bei 
altogether gi'OundleBS. A remnant of the old Puritan spii 
Still actuated our local authorities, and Sunday-wall 
especially during the hours of Divine service, was reckoi 
a punishable ofilence. A band of functionaries, tern 

ompurgators," were employed to perambulate the 
and public walks during "kirk hours" on Sundays, in onj 
,o compel " etravaigers" either to go to church, or to beta 
Ibemselvos to their homes. Thoae who refused complion 

a at once taken into custody. TbiB system continued 
force to a period subsequent to the middle of the last centm 
when Mr. Peter Blackburn (grandfather of Mr. Blackbu 
of Killeam) was placed in durance Tile for walking in t 
Green on Sunday' I This public- spirited gentleman imme- 
diately raised an action against the authorities for such an 

warrantable interference with Ibe liberty of the subject. 
The tsae was finally decided in his favour in the Court o£ 
Ses^on, and the system of course speedily fell into desuetude. 

The "Round Seat" is a favourite resting-place with th^ 
loungers of the Greeo. The Clyde bere takes an abm] 
iviii/ at Peat-Bog point, and sweeps in a fine i 





curve round the low-lying Fleshera* Haugb. It was on this 
spadons tree-dotted haugh or holm that Prince Charles 
Edward, the " young Chevalier" of Scottish song, reviewed 
his troops on the occasion of his unwelcome visit to Glasgow, 
in the winter of 1745-6. Among the Whigs of Glasgow the 
Chevalier had few friends. Accordingly, when returning from 
England he arrived at our city on his way to the Highlands, 
he determined to make the most of the wealthy enemy, llie 
Highlanders, after their lengthened and bootless campaign, 
were in a most necessitous condition. Their tartans were 
nearly worn out, while many of them were without brogues, 
bonnets, or shirts. On their way to the city every indi- 
vidual they met was speedily divested of shoes and other 
articles of dress. Notwithstanding such wind-falls, they 
presented a most miserable appearance. But Glasgow ^*saw 
another sight" (and paid for it too) before their departure. 
Charles, without ceremony, at once took up his residence at 
the best house in the city, and adopted the necessary mea- 
stires for refitting his army. The Magistrates were com- 
pelled to officiate as clothiers, to the tune of 12,000 shirts, 
6,000 cloth coats, 6,000 pairs of shoes, 6,000 pairs of stock- 
ings, 6,000 waistcoats, and an equal number of bonnets. 
"My conscience!" what would Bailie Nicol Jarvie say to 
such an act of extortion? Whatever the honest Bailie mav 
have said, the described articles had to be produced, and it 
was in the pride of these borrowed plumes that the review 
we have mentioned was held. "We marched out (says one 
of Charlie's English followers, in a manuscript journal) with 
drums beating, colours flying, bagpipes playing, and all the 
marks of a triumphant army, to the appointed ground, 
attended by multitudes of people who had come from all 
parts to see us, and especially the ladies, who, though for- 
merly much against us, were now changed by the sight of 
the Prince into the most enthusiastic loyalty." During the 
review Charles stood under a thorn-tree, on ihA d!&<^N\V^ 
which farms the north-western boundary o£ \3;i^ "CWcisx^ 


Haugh, about 100 yanla east of the " round seat." One of 
ths citizens, then a boy, maoj years niterwards said, ' ' I 
managed to get so near Hm that I could bave touched hki 
nitli my hand, and the impression which lie made upon my 
mind shall never fade be long as I live. He had a. princely 
aspect, and ita interest was much heightened by the dejection 
which appeared in his pale fair countenance and downcast 
eye. He evidently nanted conlidence in his ciuse, and 
seemed to have a melancholy foreboding of that disaster 
which soon aft*r ruined the hopes of his family for ever." 

The Chevalier and his devoted Highlanders passed avay. 
Their after fate, as every one knows, forms one of the darkest 
themes in Scottish story. In the contemplation of their 
subsequent misfortunes, their faults and tailings are for- 
gotten -, and now that the unfortunate ChevaKer's name and 
memory' have become "such stuff as dreams are made o^" 
every heart thrills in sympathy with the pathetic lyrical 
expression of our tovnunion Glen,— 

- Oh WBe> Bie file Prince Cliirlle 1" 
The old thorn, " Prince Charlie's Tree," as it was called, 
continued to be pointed out until recently, when somehow 
or other it disappeared. Latterly it had a blasted and 
decaying appearance, and was protected by a wooden railing. 
We have beard it rumoured, whether truly or not we 
cannot say, that this venerable and interesting relic was 
destroyed some four or five years ago by a band of mis- 
chievous scoundrels during a Queen's birth-day riot. We 
should not be surprised to learn, however, that some sacri- 
legious antiquary has the old stump snugly deposited among 
his "auld nick-nackets." As unlikely things have happened 
ere now among the disciples of Grose. If our friend Mr, 
Moir will forgave our apparent inconsistency, we would 
entreat him, when next be takes the planter's spade in 
liand, to let us have a successor to the " Chevalier's thorn." 
Sai:h a spot should certainly not be permitted to remain 


Gnut alt«rfttions have been ctTected on the Fleelicrs' 
Hingh within tlie memory of persona still living. We 
'n our own boyish days, a fine spring, called the 
"lidie Well," on the ngrthem declivity, with a considerable 
r mnrah in its vicinity. The well and marBh, how- 
ffx, have long disappeared, the water of both being now 
Mnieved away by a covered drain, while the grass waves 
a terra Jirma where the lasses of Brigtown enme to 
SB Iheh- canfl, and adventurous urchins, ajscaicnlating their 
raping powers — as we from sad experience can testify — 
WMB often plunged to the waist in mnd. Few of our readers 
Jb^ he prepared to learn that within the past sixty years 
a printfield on the Flesber's Huugh. Such, how- 
he case ; and we have conversed with a respectable 
Wltnaa who served his apprenticeship in the establishment, 
omewhere about the locality of Dominie's Hole. 
It that period there was a cart-road across what is now 
fclled King's Park. 

Proceeding towards the east, along the brow of the 
jReshers' Haugh, the most picturesque portion of the Green 
S gradually into view. Fine belts and dumps of trees, 
ig which are numerous handsome specimens of the elm, 
le beecb, the saugb, and the asb, diversify and adorn tho 
The foliage here assumes a freshness and beauty 
H unworthy of a more rural locality. The various shades 
(green which characterize the woodlands of eoi'ly sunimer 
w seen in perfection, and produce an extremely pleas- 
{{efiect ; wh3e the wide-spreading lawns and gently sloping 
's are spnJigled with the daisy, the dandelion, and the 
i(t«rcDp. Some of our readers may smile when we mention 
p botany of Glasgow Green ; but we can assure tliero that, 
'^nte of the ceaseless tmmpUng to which it is subjected, a 
uiderable variety of wild plants may be found by tho 
B observer within its precincts. An acquaintance of 
one season colleclcd iiot\e^ 'OoaaivA-j «^»K,ies.-wS!i«^ 
tooiidaries, and we lieVvcvii V\ia.\ tV^ -tiA ■o.M.-^^wOT'-a «ffl 

24 TUE GilEEN. 

aiderably beyond what be obtained. Among the pla 
indigenoua to tbe Green, we may mention the sbamro 
wbioh the Irish Cntholica of our city gather c 
Pfttridr's Day; and the mystic yarrow, which the girls 
Bridgeton and Calton in hundreds come forth to pluck a 
lOTe-charm, between tbe gloamin' and the mirk of May er 
On tbe evening of the 80th April the Green is genera 
crowded with groupa of yarrow Keekera. For the benefit 
our fair readers, some of whom may wish to test the Tirt 
the yarrow on future May eves, we may mention the 
ojieraiidi, aa we bad it from a, bouncing Dublin girl who i 
out on a recent occasion. On coming to a spot where 1 
desired plant is growing, the maiden knoeU, and i 
gathering a sprig of the dewy foliage, ropeatB the follom 

"Tsmnr. jartrm, hers I Mok Ihoo. 

Jit jMepli drGHinedflf Msrv, 
aj trBB lots ir my >"&" 
! yarrow thus taken ia placed under tbe pillow 
maiden as she rutirea to sleep, when, according to the Jh 
the shadowy form of the fiiture husband is sure to make 
appearance during tbe slumbers of the night. Thia ri 
poetical auperstition is diffused over tlie rural districts of t 
Three Kingdoms ; but it is certainly curious to Cud i' 
ing in SDch a matter-of-fact community aa oura. 

The student of mankind will find mucb to engage ' 
ittention and excite his inter t 'n a 11 nd the G e 
In the hurry and bustle of the t wn m n 1 tl nJmd 
ality. i'ace succeeds face w th u 1 p d tj that o 
time to ^culate on the tra tera w th 

they are one and all legiblj m ked l! la J IT m 
where you have leisure to d pher as t w e the h'n 
which time and caro have tra ed on th human fa e divii 
Hem yoa iwre tlio octogenariita, garrulous of other d 

31inj to nnfold for ;oiir gratificatioD, as ;ou rest on the 

:hbf liisaide, the expetiencegofa lengthened pilgrimage; 

e the ancient soldier, who will " never, never march 

b," yet who is eager for a good listener to whom he may 

bt hia battles o'er Agaja. That pale-faoed yonib, muffled 

■tbe chin, and shivering in the very emile of enmmer, needs 

lo ^ve ondible utterance to his sad story. Long, linger- 

^ and punful diseaae is plainly written on his wofiilly 

3 and drooping form, while the shadow of an 

Uf death even cow hangs darkly over him. Poor fellow ! 

a depth of meaning is in his bright blae eyes, as he 

rs to gaie upon the flower-gathering children 1 Yet is 

:e almost enviable when compared with that of yonder 

■-faced and scantily clad weaver, who, with downcast 

t, and hands hmig listlessly behind him, moves slonly, as 

■e counting his steps athwart the sward. " 'Tia want 

It make* his theeks so pale ; " and it requires no wizard to 

P Ibat a wife and numerous little ones are dependent upoa 

■ exerliana for bread, while there is no web in the loom. 

ti 1 for the unwilling idler. ThiE lackadusical spark, with 

collar a la Gyrou, and arms akimbo, now moving with 

A stride and auon in rapt pauge, pulling forth his richty- 

It Diem(a'andum-book, and hurriedly pencilling ita pages, 

S belong but to one tribe. Air, gestore, gtat, at once 

n the aspirant to poetic honours. We could not be 

ire of the fact, indeed, although we met him in the 

»mor of a newspaper. Perverse fortune may have 

1 him to the counter, but it is quite evident that in his 

n estimation he has a destiny infinitely above yard-sticks. 

t move on. From the bunk which overlooks 

f Clyde, at the south-eastern extremity of the Green, a 

t of great extent and beauty is obtained, To the 

r Kutherglen Bridge, in the distance, is seen the 

t spin of Cambuslang, with the towering heights of 

In front, half luAietv awftsX. '^ee* esA. igssSss. 

', Shawfield and ie.u.tVeT^«o. ast w«=ii,-^^^ "^ 


o m 

finely-wooded braes of Cathkin swell pleasantly to i 
horizon, and tbe mansions of Blairbeth and Castlemilk 
enliven tbe middle- distance, which is ulso studded with villnB 
and cottages innumeraWe. To tbe riglit are Little Govan, 
Camphill, and Lanjrside — tbe latter tbe scene of the unfor- 
tunate Mary's 6nal overthrow. Indeed, the movements 
preliminary to that decisive engagement may be better com- 
prehetided when they are described with rulation to our 
present positipn, than if wb were even standing on tbe field 
where the battle occurred. Here we see at a glance the 
ground traversed by tbe hostile armies, and the sj'stem on 
which tbe movements were conducted which terminated in 
the conflict at Langside. Marching from Hamilton with the 
intention of proceeding to Dumbarton by the north-east 
side of GlHEgow, (he Queen's troops were confronted at Dal- 
maraock ford by the army of tbe Regent Murray, which was 
drawn up in order of battle in the vicinity of Barrowfield. 
Desirous of avoiding the Impending engagement, Mary's 
adherents alteved their route, and, passing by Rutherglen 
and Hang^ngsbaw, endeavoured to accomplish their purpose 
of reaching Dumbarton by a forced march to the south-west 
of the city. Their course, however, was necessarily a cir- 
caitous one, and Murray having become aware of tbe altera- 
tion in their plans, at once pushed across tbe Green, forded 
tbe Clyde, and as wo can here see, from the relative position 
of the places we have mentioned, was, without difficulty, able 
to intercept them in their progress. Thus oul>ninno;uvred, 
Mary's generals saw there was nothing for it but either to 
risk an engagement or make an inglorious retreat to Hamil- 
ton. The former alternative was adopted, and the result, us 
every one knows, was their total defiut and dispersion. 

But to return to the Green itself. At the foot of the bank 
on nhieb we are staudlng, and within a few yards of each 
other, are two fine cool crystalline springs, which, althongh 
so near each other, po^^ess very opposite qualities. The one, 
Vota^Jj- denominated " Robin's Well," is iiimous li 



Big pnrposeg, and for the dilation of "gude Scots' drink i" 
■bile the other, being moderately impregnated with a sola- 
^on of ferruginouB matter, is atrictly avoided alike by the 
ralisrwoDiaii and the coDnoiseeur of punch. A few yards 
wtiiBr down the stream, beneath a group of stately trees, 
•» (he Springboards, and Dominie's Hole (ao called from a 
dommie or teacher having been drowned there), the uanal 
Miin^placea of the amphibious east-end citizens, when, 
to vie the words of Wilson, the qaaint old author of " The 

"^niCJnuurnflT^iliciCdTttfufTfqiieiit to thepoul 

l^sy din, md dlitant or emarge syjUn, 

Of OCT fl«I ■loDg Ids liquid pIuIq. 

WhUB curilnit wBves aronnd llielt tolLei twine, 

Tbtm^ti ifhlcb tbelT klmbi Like pollalied morljle shjae; ^ 

Kdw Willi BtronnanrBIhoy etrLveuEiliiBt IliB tiio^ 

I Uloy hundreds of people, indeed, bathe here daily during 
■.tte iult:y months, and, in spite of every precaution, few 
iMKma, tmlbrtunatelf, pass in which several lives are not 
Wt at this part of the river, Ijfe-baoys are suspended on 
w hank, that aseistance in emergencies may be at once 
Bndered. Boards have also been erected by the authorities 
it conapicuoue points, on which, for the benefit of intending 
tther>, the depth of the river at various places is iegibly 

Puming our walk, which now tends dty-ward, by " Allan's 
te" and the Gne belt of plantation which borders the 
lUlh-east side of the Green, we are struck at everj step by 
« improvemeots which have recently been effected. New 
■Uta, to the extent of several miles, have been formed 
rillun the past year or two, wherever, by the " old brown 
" of footpath, the public had manifested a desire to 
The sward, at the same time, has been protected at 
It moiB exposed points by eaclosures of wooden railing, 
1 the result is, that never, within the memory of the 
t inhabitant," \vm IUctb \wfiR wido. b-vv ^^3CT0tsft -sv- 
e of verdure on tbe Gtee\i aa iima^'iia -sj^saaw- ^s**" 



At the mme time there has been " ample «eope u 
cnouflib " left for all kmds of recreative amuaemenW, 
rounders, and foolball, the sports most pCFpiilar bore, i 
now practised as extengiretv' ax at any fonaer period. 
Sftturday aftemoona, when tbe mills and pnblic ircii^ ■ 
stopped, Kind's Fork presents a most cbeerfiil and aninatil 
speotaple, with its numerous groops of youtiiinl op«rati»« 
aft«r the toils of the week, ail eameBtly engf^ed in thtil 
healthful and esdting games. In former limes the GeM 
'' shinty " was a fevonrite pastime during the w 
with the juvenility of our city. Of late years it saenas li 
have fallen almost into desuetude. Tbe same may be b^ 
of golf, which we remember in our boyhood seeing &« 
quen^prsctised by elderly gentlemen on the Green. Tfatfl 
seems, indeed, to be a &hioa in recreation as in things 4 
greater moment. Shinty and golf, however, are both vi 
ceedingly iojorioiis to the turf, and, considering the atueatf 
ties of the Green, it is probable that the fastidious nuf 
rgoico in their djacontinuanco. i* 

Preyioualy to the general flitting of the merchant prinei 
of Glasgow " towards the setting sun," the Green was dfl 
fsvotirite haunt of the wealth and fashion of tbe dty. " 
was here the pride and beauty of the aristocratic ChartoS 
Street and St. Andrew's Stjaare loved roost to congregal _ 
" when sununer days were fine." These time-bonouTOt 
elms, so gaunt and woe-begone, could they apeiik, might tell 
of days when the proud Vir^nian merchant, with his loof) : 
scarlet cloak and bnshy wig, passed haogbtily beneath tl 
shade, aod the gaucy bailie with his long queue, 

went " shng sbuggin " pijst in all the pomposity of ciric iovf ' 
portanea. The readers of Rnb Roy will remember Frank' 
Osbalriistone's Sunday evening walk in the Green, previoin. 
to his midnight meeting with the bold outlaw. This veijf 
elm, for aagbt we know, may have been tho identical oo^ 
bebiad which the lover of Diana.^envone^iainniteiVimirill'^ 



nlieB lie heard, through the darkness, the voice of Andrew 
Fainartice. Be tbiiC as it inay, the more fLfhioniLble clasaee 
of Glaegow have long ceased hnbitoaUy to frequent the 
pirlieua of tba Green ; and it is only when the attraction of 
tieriew, a regatta, or some cxtrtLordinaiy spectacle occurs, 
revisited by glimpses of its former glorj'. 
Suing the wara of Kapoleon, when our shores were 
IbeiteDed with foreijpi invasion, numerous bunds of volun- 
H&i, in duly exercise upon the Green, manifested the 
ll!r*% and patriotism of Glasgow. It nas on the same 
I«I4 tiat the sympathies of our citizens in the cause of 
ItiUtical fefortn wore, from time to time, expressed iu multi- 
Witiaiu assemblage. No one who nitneaaed the monster 
ings of the £eform epoch, when the population of our 
in the strength of a. united purpose, came forth in 
thouasnds to demimd their poEttcal rights, can ever 
tlia grandeur and impressiveness of the spectacle. To 
iKlueTenieiitof the great moialTictory of less (for in its 
iu, which are not yet all reaped, it has indeed been great), 
)flUg|>ifioent meetJnga of Glasgow Green must have coll- 
ated in no limited degree. Peace has her victories at 
i U war, and the battle-field where corruption has been 
ftotne, although all undewed wi(h the red rain, should 
r,]»regarded as hallowed ground. AH honour then to 
:nd}le Green; and should 

•• MHlic« dDTnejitic ct foifllffn levy " 
r igaiiL caU for similar exertions, may our citizens, as 
days of yore, be prepared to answer the call of duty, 
may they long preserve inloct these spacious grounds 
I llur Seld for the manifestation of their loyalty and 

Msing the Washing-house, and in front of Monteith Bow 
bandiome range of ediiices, but erected on a clipping 
I tilt Green and within the "stately wall" mentioned 
i<a M'Ui'e — we make our ex\l M. 'ihv^ \,cn!&cKv 'avs.'ssx 
(ei,"nnd soon find ovirsehes ai " \\uiVi;isiVd 'i!iia\^-«'>^ 


Toe denizen of the populoos and dinsome city is apt to 1« 
with envy on the condition of those who "live, move, ai 
have their being" among the woodj and fields, who ba 
familiar intercourse with the free winds, and are at all dm 
and aeaaona Eurrounded with the ever-varying shows K 
forme of Nature. Tet to us it ap]iears extremely donbU 
whether we of the city are not, after all, more keenly all 
to tbe beauties of the country than our brethren of the m: 
districts. Familiarity, if it doea not in all cases bej 
contempt, is almost certain to engender more of less 
indifiareace. The man who has gieea leaves and bri{ 
petals ever unfolded before his eyes, and the music of hi 
And stream ever ringing in his ears, must of nece: 
less sensible of their cheerful influences tbnn be who o 
occasionally, and after considerablo intervals, has the priv 
lege of participating in sooh enjoyments. The cla 
doomed to the irksome desk, and the operatiye confined i 
the workshop, enjoy, we doubt not, on th^ holidays, 4< 
more intense feeling of the beautiful in nature tbao the 
farmer who is daily among the waving grain, or the lord of 
the soil who can roam at will, wherever whim or caprice 
may lead. Under such circumstances, the excursionist frm 
the crowded city foele that to him indeed. 

Appear uu opening paraiLiBB.'^ 
Some such thoughts as these suggest themselves to a 
miad as, leaving the hustling eUeeU, -ma \:akftOQi-«a'j\i^Ji 


le to Csrmyle and Kenmuir. Leaving tlie precincts of 
B Green at Allan's Pen, we speedily find ourselves at 
■ulfierglen Bridge. This structure, wliieh was erected in 
ffita the city by ita south-eastern boundary with 
fBoAorglen and the adjucent towns and villages. It ia « 
■ MtTOw and ratlier high-backed affair, barely affording scope 
' » eouple of sour-milk carts to pass each other in safety ; 
•nd must be rather trying to the nerves of outside paaseogera 
on the omnibuses which now cross it at Ircquent intervals, 
" the slightest colliaion vrith any passing body would 
inWlibly send them "right slick" into the water. The 
Dwnidpality, with praiseworthy spirit, is now setting its 
otlinr bridges in order, and we really think that something 
"li^t be done to render this one more safe .iiid aommodiona, 
Pwing the estenaivo dye-works of Messrs. Henry Monteith 
^ Co. at Barrowfield, and those of Messrs. Bartholomew at 
Ifalnilniock, we next come, about a quarter of a mile 
ftriber np, to the fine mansion of the late Dr. Clegborn, 
mibowered in trees, and situated on a gentle acflivity on the 
'oath bank of the river. Nearly opposite this are the works 
Of ike Craaston-hill Water Company, surrounded by a 
*™ng earthen embankment, which eifectunlly conceals and 
preMivea from encroach ment the various reservoirs and 
filers of the establishment. 

The Clyde, it is said, was formerly navigable to this point, 
Md Ratherglen, which here forms a fine feature in the 
Iwdacape, with its beautiful new spire, still boasts a. quay 
for the accommodation of that commerce which has long 
deserted her. Not a sinjjle cock-boat has she now tb 
WMntenance the effigy of a ship in her burghal coat of arms. 
We have the authority of Dr. Ure, llie historian of the 
'iiirgh, however, for saying that up till a comparatively 
Went period coal gabberts of couBidunililB burthen plied 
ulmort every day. from the quay of Itutberglen to Greenook, 
»ith cargoes of the " diaimonA." 

cxTomx km lusMpnt. 


'timber, and fbUaning tbe vindings of the river, ve stiortt; 
Brrive at tlie Glaagow Water-works, the roighty eii^nes 
which lae employed night and day, like a great heart, 
prupelling the urystAl fluid throughoat the miles and nu 
of pipes that extend through the labjrintha of the dc 
The Clyde in the -vicinity of the works baa recently ni 
tad havoc on the bank. A considernbie portion of the i 
tmt been carried awny, trees have been undermined a 
levelled, and the path has, indeed, been rendered ail 1 
impaaaable. To DuikR matters worse, a neighbouring p 
prietor, who would seem to be somewhat of a ohmi, 1 
driven n pa.LliBade nf etobs along the &ont: of hid pro] 
oloso almost to the water-edge, so that passengers 
oonaderiible difficulty in getting aioug. Fortunately i 
lordship uf this gentleman is not of vory great extent, and 
forbidden territory ia soon left behind. it 

The famous "Horrie'a Dyke" next attracts our attentigiii 
This wall, as is well known, was erected about thirty yi 
ago by Tbomaa Uarvie, tbea proprietor of Westthora, 
the panose of blocking up the footpath along the msrg|| 
ofthe Clyde, from Glasgow to Cnrmyle, wbioh had 
onsly been in poeseaaion of the public from time imme: 
Great indignation was of course excited at the time by ttil 
encroachment upon popular rights. Indignant articlwi 
letters, and pasquiiiadea appeared in the local journals, un^ 
Rt length, in the summer of 18£3, the ire of the citizens vft 
roused to^auch a de^pree, that a numerous party, principi " 
composed of weavers and other operatives from Bridge 
and Paikhesd, armed with pickaxes and crow-bars, laid uegl 
to the obnoxious barrier, and levelled it with the dug^t 
Passing ailerwards in triumph to thfl opposite extremity rf 
the Westthtim estate, which was likewise defended by j| 
strong wooden pallifade, (hey continued the work of deatnUff 
don by setting it on Ore. 

' TTieaa axtcnvive irorkg irlll aoon be oomiilflKly nl»mded vid rsndi 

Wiile engaged in tliis patriotic though certainly illegal 
opeiatioD, intelligeQCc wAsbrougbc to thaex<:it«<l crowd that 
» pirlT of dragoons who hiid been •ent for were approadi- 
ingi when sn immediate dieperEion enstted. Several of the 
litglexden were afterwards apprebendud, riud sentenced 
to nrioos periods of impriaanment for their share in the 
titauction. 'llic wall was apecdit)- rebuilt, and for several 
TBUi thereafter the thoroughfare was completely snspendeil. 
liuib, however, to tbe pablic spirit of certain gentlemea 
wnnected with the city, among whom were the late Mr, 
flwrpEodger of Batrowfield Printworks, "Sandie Hodger" 
^K poet, ami iSIr. Adam Ferrie, now in Canada, the warfare 
■u resnmsd in the conrts of law. Subscriptions in support 
it tbe popnlar cause were liberally furnished by all classes of 
Wimii; and, alter a lengthened litigation, the cnse was 
finally terminated by a deciwon of the House of Lords in 
Jnont of the right of paasage. The estate has now passed 
>tt) otiier hands, and the present proprietor, with praise- 
'VOitt^ liberality, permits the people to enjoy without let or 
Uodnnce the beautiful bank by which the arable. portion of 
lliilual ii encumpusBsd. 

1^ Kenery around Westthora is of the roost delightful 
^(Hriplioa. The bank, sloping gently to the river, is clothed 
Witt fine plantations, the haunts of birds innumerable, which 
ii we pass are joyously pi[ring their most mellifluons atmins. 
ne swallow and the more rare sandpiper ore flitting over 
(Metreun (whiuh in its windings here rivals the ]iakj Forth), 
Ih^ily disturbed by the wading angler, who, as usual, on the 
Clfde, is tfarething the water in vain. Nor is the back- 
flftond less ^r, as from almost every point line views are 
Wtuned of the riubly-wooded braes of Cathkin or the green 
of Dyohmont, with the siiires of Rutherglen and 
(fianliiislang lending beauty to thu middle distance, 
lanuedialely obove the lands of Westthom, is Dalbath, 
» fintly-situated mansion of w\\\c\i \a ao-H qissk^wSi. ™> * 
iitl establishment in conRttcCvoii ^"'&v fea 


Church. Morning, noon, and eveaing, the ramhier by d 
nver-aidc hears the tinkling: of bells at this spot, iTaming 4 
Rsterbood to their frequently recaning eseruises of devol 
The curious may also, on a. sunny forenoon, eapy the w 
forma of the nuna, walking with measured pace on the g: 
award in front of the edifice, or lingering in pensive att^tu^ 
in the shadow of the surrounding trees. In this quiet a 
secloded locality there is nothing to disturb the contemplt 
tioos of the fair devotees more harsh than the murmurinj 
□f the Clyde or the songs of the summer birds among ti 
rustling foliage. They seem, indeed, to live a peaceful ai 
a harmless life in their beaotitiil solitude, yet to our pre 
teiian prejudices a nunnery seems anything but a plea 
feature in a Scottish landscape, A small chapel has recenfi 
been erected in connection with the establishment; and 
cemetery for the reception of deceased CathoUos ha^ h 
formed in the oeigbbourhood. 

In the bed of the stream at this pla^e there nas for tni 
years a numerous colony of the large freah-water moa 
In seasons of drought we have seen these bivalves expo 
in myriads. Some of the sheila contained pearla of e 
liderable value ; and we have known a Cambuslang weai 
to realise a couple of pounds by the sate of a forenood 
gathering. A friend of ours, on one occasion, picked up 
shell here which was thickly studded with small peai) 
None of them, however, were very pure, and we suspect tl 
is the cue with the greater portion of those found ii 
Clyde. Be this as it may, their pearl-bearing character b 
proved fatal to the poor mussels, which are now ne 
extirpated. Small particles of native gold have also i 
found in the sands opposite Dalbeth. 

About bulf-a-mile farther up we arrive at the Clyde toa 
works, associated with the respected name of the late H 
Colin Dunlop, formerly one of the representatives of Glasgtj 
in Parliament. They are merrily bla/ing ss we pass, 
night}/ glare of these BincUing fumacea m ^amiira M 


denizen of Sanct Mangoes ; many it lights home when 
^owre late out at e^en/* and to many it serves all the 
purposes of a barometer, as, immediately before rain, from a 
Terj obvioas cause, its brilliancy is materially increased. As 
an ingenious and witty poet of the west observed, in certain 
hnmorons v^nses addressed to the late proprietor of this 
exteofflTe establishment, — 

**Tbe moon does fa' weel when tlie moon's in the lift, 
Bat oh, the loose limmer talces mony a shift, 
Whiles here and whiles therot and whiles nnder a hajv— 
Bat yours is the steady licht, Colin Dalapl 

"Na, mair— like trne friendship, the marker the nicbt. 
The mair yon let out yonr vast columns o' licht; 
When sackcloth and sadness the heavens enwrap 
*Tl8 then you're maist lund to us, Colin Dulapl" 

An elegant irdb bridge erected by the proprietor of the 
worb spans the Clyde at this point, and is principally used 
fiv the transmission of coal and minerals, for smelting 
pQiposes, from Eastfield, which lies about half-a-mile south- 
ward, and is famed for the abundance and quality of its 
ouboniferous productions. The ordinary traffic across the 
river, however, is at the "Bogle-hole" ford, a short distance 
fiffther up, where not only horses and carts, but men, and 
occasionally bonnie lasses even, with their drapery high- 
Idlted, may be seen in langsyne fashion wading from bank to 
bank through the amber waters. On passing the bridge we 
would advise our botanical friends to follow our example, 
and keep a sharp look out for the wild flowers which here 
spring forth on bank and brae in the most charming pro- 
fusion. For a couple of miles or so above this, the Clyde is 
frmged with beautiful trees of every variety, and at this 
season (May) of every shade of green ; while at every step 
the landscape assumes new features of loveliness, and every 
sonny nook has its own floral decorations. Among the 
sanghs at the water edge lurks the graceful meadow rue 
(ihaUctrum flavuni)\ the broad leaved waterburs (petasitea 
vulgaris) wave on the alluvial fLa\a\ ^Yk^'fc xJofe \^%^^«^ 
tbeprunrosef cowslip, white Baxi&a^^&^^saxvfta^a ^xoxoiXaX*^- 


(Urnorta of severni aperies, and countless other 
bkom Bud of fragrsace peep boai tbe verdant banks, td| 
duBter in awaet groups round the tacmy stems of the w 
Bbadowing treea. ^ j 

After a delightful sjlvan walk Qr eaunter of about an 
hour's duration from the " Bogle-hole," tfe arrive at the 
village or ckchan — for we are puzzled to say which is lU 
proper designation — of Canuyle, with its old-fashioned 
meal-milis and diuaotne dams, over whith the foamy Clyda 
inceasontly pours, as if murmuriug with its voice of many 
waters at the restriction attempted to he placed on il^ 
liberty. Imitgine Bome score or so of houses — pleasant 
though humble dwelling- places every one— straggling up- 
ward from the river-side, intermingled with gardeu-ploU 
&n(l treeE, and a picture of the little community is before 
you — the inhabitants, as we learn, beiug principally millers, 
cartwrights, sawyers, and aueh like. There is at present 
gnly a MOpie of places where Tefreshment for the vrearj* 
rambler may be obtained ; and in one of these, tiith the 
reader's leave, we shall " take our " for a short time, 
and disuuBB a thimbleful of the landlord's Glenlivet and a 
" crnmpie farl " of the goodwife's cake, with a slice of prime 
cheese from Mr. Drew's dairy, which is hard b^, and the 
produce of which hoa deservedly attained a more thd.n looil 

On viating Carmylo for the first time, a goodlj number 
of years since, we were conducted to a waste spot ui the 
vicinity, which in bygone days was the scene of a mL-Uachol) 
tragedy. The atoiy, aa told to us, was briefly aa follows : — 
In the oUen time there lived — the one at Cannyle, the other 
at Konmuir — two young men who had been from boyhood 
bosom fnends. Similar in l^stes and dispositions, uotliing 
ever happened to mar the harmony of their intereoursc ; 
and, in weaJ or in woe, they seemed destuied to uontinue all 
io all to each other throughout life. At length, however, a, 
stranger juniden came to reaido in tVt V^ii^t, uni, aa 

■Dold hwe it, the youths fell ninmltaneouriy in love wttll 

Iwr- Tbe ftienda were rivals. One was preferred ; the 

nther of course rejected. The anfortunate Builor, from on 

allectloaate friend, liecame all at once — "sm'li power has 

diglited iove" — transformed into tbo moat bitter of enemies. 

Meeting by accident one day at the spot alluded to, angry 

"ordi passed between the two who lately would have died 

feeuJi other. Swords were tildmately drawn, and one fell 

wounded. Pilled with remorse at what, in hts 

passion., be hail done, the other in a fit of anpiish laid 

It hands upon himself, and both were found lying 

among the summer flowers, which were stained with 

mingled life-blood. What afterwords befell the feir 

anse of all their woe, tradition saj-eth not ; 

the friends, who had been bo unfortunately and fetally 

:i, vere laid by their mourning relatives st peace in 

grave, dug at the place where they fell, which has ever 

been known na the "Blnidy Nenk." A ftrruginoug 

neighboarhood was long looked upon with 

by the good folks of the village, who saw in the red 

earth around it a inj'sterious connection with the 

Klticb hod there been shed. An old lady who was 

in Cannyle informed us that the spot was reckoned 

cUmy," and that in her youth he would have been 

bold individual who would have ventured there 

lafter nighiraJl. So regardless of such matters, however, 

nodem agriculturists become, that within the last few 

tte plough has beai driven over the spot, and at the 

of oar viut there is a fine fresh braird waving' green 

the "Bbidy Neuk." 

walk frT>m Carmyle to Kcnmuir bank, which is about 

larters of a mile higher up the stream, is of the most 

ig description. Both banks of the river are clothed 

tense masses of foliage, which are now tinted with the 

nrie^ of shades whicb lenAe^a 'Soe -wwA* sS. <a^ 

almost equal in p\cUirea(Vie. «SwA ws •C^osa'^'^ ^^^ 


, The intensely fresh green of the beech — the leaves 
with "silver linin);" of the saugh— the almost oUve-hued 
elm^the leafy lusurianoe of the lady-birch — the golden' 
budded oak — the bird-cherry or geen, one mass of snowy 
bloom, with the mourning robes of the pine, insensibly inter- 
mingling and softly blending one with unotber, produce 
»hogether an effect which the painter may admire, but mtut 
in Yoln attempt to imitate. The attentive ornithologist JntM 
here eea occasionally that curious and amusing bird it 
creeper (ctrlMa /amiliaris)., climbing the trees perpen^dl 
larly ; the sandpiper dabbling on the brown sand, or flytt 
with its peculiar cry across tbe stream ; or the lone waM 
ousel sitting on a projecting stone among tbe gurgling w&vd 
and quietly watching for tbe minnows and sticklebacb 
which form its ordinary prey. " 

Kenmuir bank is a steep acclivity which rises directly frM 
the margin of the Clyde to the height of some sixty or flevOT( 
feet. It iti a wild and boaky scene, covered with a picturesqt 
profusion of timber, and is the haliliat of flowers iniiui&erabl( 
The weaver herbalists of Camlachie and Parkbead find iti 
perfect storebouse of medicinal rarities; and on Snndajw? 
they may be seen in sickly groups prying into every green 
recess in search of plants wblch old Culpepper would have 
loved for their rare qualities, or carrying tbem. home in 
odorous bundles, confident of having obtained a mastery 
over " all tbe ilia that flesh is heir to." The botanist may 
also occasionally be seen lurking here, vasculum in hand, or 
on bended knee examining the structure of some strange 
flower. But oven tbe mere general lover of flowers will 
here find DiDch to reward his nttcmtiou. At present tbe 
May-flower {caltha palnstrin), the wild hyacinth, the craw- 
flower of Tannahill, tbe red campion (lychnis dioica), the 
odorous woodruff {asperala oderala)^ tbe globe-Hower or 
lucken gowan (^Irulttus europieus), and many others are in 
full btoom, and so thickly etcewn that even as the poet ai 



At the ftot of the bank, near its upper extremity, there ia a 

file Sfmng, which is known hy the name of the ^^ Af arriage 

Wdl, ''fiom a couple of curiously united trees which rise at 

iti flde and fling their shadows over its breast To this spot, 

[ ■ otiier days, came wedding parties, on the day after 

nunage, to drink of the crystal water, and, in a cup of the 

f 'nooDtam-dew, to pledge long life and happiness to the 

hmg pair whom, on the previous day, old Hymen had 

BMde one in the bands which death alone can sever. After 

imbibing a draught of the sacred fluid from the cup of 

Diogenes, we rest a brief space on the margin of the well, 

iikd while we are listening to its faint trickling voice, let us 

lecall a name or two from the many with which it is 

aMoci&ted in our memory. Many, indeed, have been the 

fiiends with whom we have here held communion sweet. 

Most gentle and single-minded of botanists was our old and 

venerable companion, poor Tom Murphy, who, for many and 

fflsny a year, made loving pilgrimage to Kcnmuir. Well he 

ibew each floral inhabitant that lent its odour to the green 

gloAmin' of this tangled nook. From earliest spring to latest 

autumn he knew their times and seasons. It was his pride 

to busk with stranger beauties the haunts of his love. Many 

a genn and many a root he brought from distant glens and 

lonely bumsides to enrich this fairy spot with their bloom. 

Flowers of his planting are still here, but the good old man 

will teturn no more for ever — 

" By Kenmuir steep, or sweet Carmyle, 
Or Blantyre's auld monk-haunted pile, 
A-woomg Flora's early smile. 

Nae mair he'll tread ; 
Nature's lone pilgrim 's left his toil- 
Tom Marpby's dead." 

Here also came poor George Allan, one of the Harvie's 
Dyke heroes, to spend his summer Sundays afler the irksome 
toils of the week. He also was a botanist in a humble way. 
With the long-winded and crabbed names of the science he 
Had but a limited acquaintance. Yet well he knevr tVv^ 
mi^ontf of oar indigenous plants by their good oVCi ^aixow 


names, the most musical of all, and deep was his knon 
of their medicinal virtues, real or imaginary. Widi al 
€^erarde or Culpepper taught he was perfectly familiB: 
he loved to tell of the planets by which the various 
were influenced, and the mystic hours in which eacb 
required to be gathered. Many a time and oft we hai 
him, with a group of delighted auditors, ezpoundi 
green and flowery nooks of the Clyde, his wondrous 
On one occasion (a Sacramental Fast- day) we foun 
criticising the exquisite song of *^ The Posie,** by the li 
Coila. ^^ I^U no deny/^ he said, ^* that, as a thing of 
and sentiment, Bums^ lilt is no sae far wrang ; but tl 
has jumilt the flowers of spring, summer, and hairat 
ae bab, a thing that^s clean contrar* to nature. Ye'U 
find ^ the primrose, the firstling o' the year * (as Bums 
although it^s no the firstling), in the same walk as thi 
^g rose ; and yet our favourite poet bauldy said he 
gather them together and twine them wP ither flower 
be a posie to his ain dear May.^ Tak* my word for 
continued, *^ Rab was nae botanist, or he wadna ha^e 
sic a mistak* ; but if ye^ll jist be quiet for a wee, 1*11 s 
a genuine botanical sang, written by a friend o* mir 
ye^ll no think it the less sweet, I opine, because the 
and the laverock, as ye hear, are chanting the accoi 
ments.^' With these preliminary remarks, and after v 
his whistle by a draught from a small pocket flask, he 
the echoes of Kenmuir ring with the following, which h 
to the old Gaelic air, ^^ I am asleep, do not waken me 

** When spring frae the bine lift in beauty comes smiling, 
/Ind stern icy winter gangs i^wning away ; 
While blythe sings the mavis the bright hours beguiling, 
And woods a' are busking in leafy array ; 
Coltsfoot and celandine 
Wee gowdeu stamies shine. 
And sweetly the primrose and violet blow ; 
Forth over hill and glen, 
Far firae the haunts of men, 
Joyously wandering, ve flower-lovers go. 

** When sweet simmer's smile sets the braes a* a-blooming, 
And swallows return frae their haunts o'er the sea, 
WhlJe rosebud andhavrthora-ttveVr Afetv*Me\>wtvvxKtti^, 
Aim! speedwells are biiglit, as a faic mcii^«i\'% «,'^\ 


niieeiipi and dAtileB fldr 

^Muiglo our meailowB rare— 
UBnwn rhincliiff where deer itreamleti flow ; 

Fmrth orer hill and fflea, 

Fkr tne the hanxita of men, 
Jofoodj wandering, wa flower-loren go. 

\ ** When aera^leaTed decay o'er the woodlanda In itMlla a 

And bell-f.owerB urc wavInK their pennons of bine ; 
While hairat a' her treaaurca In rich flclda rervalinff 
Brlnn plenty and Joy to the bly the reapen view i 
Clamb'rlnff o'er bank and bne 
Schoolboys are wandering ffay, 
Plnnderinff the hasel, the bramble, and aloe ; 
Forth over hill and glen. 
Far firae the hannts of men, 
Joyonaiy wandering, we flower-loma pk 

•IHoagfa winter In atorms o'er the dark earth Is flyins; 
And flowers smile nae mair on the cuald chuerless day, 
Tet nature baa charms "mons the lone woods lying, 
Dear to the soul which delights in her sway ; 
Oier niin*8 erombling wall 
Green banss the lyj pall, 
Bldi coral gems deck the mde holly bough 
Where over hiUa and alen, 
FUr tne tlie haunts or men, 
Joyously wanderiogt «« flower-loven ga 

** We Rmdge not the wortdling his pomp, pofwer, and pleaanre, 
Tho' nameless and poor, down lite'it rout^h cuarse wo stnur, 
Each field-pnth and he<lgerow to us yields a troHSure^ 
And ours ore the beauties encircling the year; 
Bird, beaKt, and flowery lea. 
Rock, stream, and leafy tree, 
Rich tcndrills of love round our hearts seem to throw, 
When forth over bill and glen. 
Far free the haunts of men, 
Joyously wandering, we flower-lovers ga** 

Poor Allan concluded his song amidst tbo plaudits of Lis 
humble compeers. Many springs and many summers have 
passed since last we saw him at Kcnmuir. He is now a 
tenant of the narrow house. The flowers he loved so well 
return with the returning seasons, but never again shall he 
• rejoice in the beauty of their presence. 

Numerous, indeed, are the forms and faces which haunt 
our fancy as we linger by the Marriage Well — 

** Memories grow around it thick as flowersL** 

But some have died at home among their own people ; some 
Oh distant shores have found a stranger's grave ; and among 
those who are still in tho hind of the living, tune wclOl c^TkiCA^ 
hre wrought a sad dispenion. 



Ascendiiig to the brow of the bank, a, prospect of gn 
faeautj-meetflour gazo. Farbelow,the Clyde ia seen betW 
the ivied trunks nhlch bristle the steep, quivering id a, aim 
ripple, or Btretcliing iu wandering iovelinesB around ( 
gre^n tree-studded baughs of Dnldowie □□ the one hand, i 
towards the wood-fringed banks of Carmyle on tbe oth 
l^at spacious man^on to the left, coucbiug upon i 
Terdant lawn, is the residence of Mr. M'Call of Doldon 
and certainly a more de^rable place of abode it wonld 
difficult to imagine. In the middle distance, ii 
direction, the red tower of Bothwell Church meets the * 
— the Castle is lost in foliage ; while, far beyond and fiun 
viriblB on the horizon, looms the d(ro form of Tintoc, i 
conical giant of the Upper Ward. To the right CambusU 
is sleeping in the sun, with the Dychmont and Cathldn fa 
forming a fine background to the picture which it preset 
Turning to the right about, we behold, over a level a 
fertile eKpanse, thickly dotted with houses, the mif^hty cla 
of smoke, which erer indicates the city of our habitatii 
with the dark outline of the old Cathedral, "St. Boll 
Lum," and other prominent features of Sanct Mnng 
town peering duskily through the veil. In the distance 
the right, tbe range of the C»mpsio Fells ia seen i 
from Kilsyth to Dungoyne, while the Kilpatrick b 
the horizontal line to the left, and through the gap of i 
Lennox, Benlomond shows hia ample shoulders and s 
enveloped brow. Of a truth, sweet Kenmuirl thou com-l 
mandest a magnificent panorama ; and we have i 
marvelled that, lying within the scope of a forenoon's 
from yon vast maze of industry, thou host not w 
a hundred pilgrims for each one who has hitherto come ■ 
thy shrine. 

Ab this ia the turning point of our ramble, it n 
for us to decide whether we shall retrace our steps by & 
margin of the Clyde, a diiitance we should imagine 
eixorsereo DiiIea,oi- by making an inliiiul<:aLV>tWQ\ai 


and Hamflton road, find our way home by a route of about 
half that length. As the day is somewhat advanced, and 
oonelTes somewhat tired withal, we conclude that the latter 
eawne is on the whole the most advisable. Striking there- 
fore into a footpath through the green com, we speedily find 
Her Majesty's highway, and passing through Tollcross and 
Parkhead (commonplace villages both), arive once more, in 
about an hour and a-half firom the time we leave Kenmuir, at 
the comfortable fireside firom whence, some half-dozen of 
lK>iir8 previously, we had taken our start. Becalling our 
lamble, we exckum with Wordsworth, — 

** How fair appears the rural scene, 
For thoHf Clyde, hast ever heen 

Beneficent as strong; 
Pleased in refreshing dews to steep « 

Tbe little trembling flowers that peep 
Thy shelying ro<»8 among 1 * 


Thb boy-life of town and country are often compared, i 
concliinions are generiJly drawn very nraeh to the disadva 
tage of the former. On tlie one liond, we are shown n 
tanes and fillhy closes, nolaome streets and eyj! influeoc 
without number; on tbe other, are enohantiDgly d 
IpBen fields aod sunny braea, clear gushing atreams, i 
Bfteet fellowship of birds and flowers. In the one pictu 
there is a sad predominance of shadow; in tbe other there i 
a decided " excess of bright." " What a dreary waste," ■ 
have heard remarked, "must be the memory of n town-b* 
man I" He has no langsyne recollontions of paidlins in t 
bum, or gowan-gatherings on tbe bloomy braes j he can* 
boast an old acquaintance in tbe belted bee, nor tell 
Joyous associationB linked with the wild bird's song. No 
while admitting that there is too much truth in the contn 
thus presented to us, we feel convinced, after loolcing "i 
this picture aud on that," that the condenmaljon of toDi 
"nusjng," as Jonathan might call it, has been by far ti 
sweeping. Nor are we prejudiced in the matter either way) 
having been ourselves, as we inny aay, neither a town n 

Ieonutry boy, but a partaker to a considerable exlent in 
character of botb— our early home having been in a subur* 
ban situation. 
" Slone Willi do cat a lirLmn raalie." 

nor does a re^dence in the city necessarily imply confiner 
within its boundaries. Town boys are continually making 
raids into the surrounding country. Tbey know well 
the £rst dowera begin loblow, and wbenl\ie\AiOi6';oaiiMiiw 


ir nesls. There sre but few schoolboys, for 
1 in the very heart of our own wida-apreading 
I ton, «bo do not know the season when the blueberry 
w the purple die of ripenees, or who could not guide 
I'jn ithere the blachboyd hangs in antumn its jettj jroit. 
1 Sloy individual accustotned to walk in the outfkirts of our 
rn-Aj mast have observed numerous bandj of these tiny 
I rtwulnrera going or returning from their devious expedi- 
f lbs, kaded with 

Scarlet hips uBi «on» haws, 

Tbs bnimbfe. blicli ujet, er tloea auetore i 
Rard rinl bat Hicta u borlBti appetile 
DUdalni Dot." 

So Strong indeed, and ho general, is this rambling propensiyj 
fa the boyhood of our raty, that we know of Bpoto even at 
Gve or six miles' distance from the Cross, which, in the time 
ofnestj, and at the period when the wild fruit is ripe, are 
perfectly thronged witb the little pale-faced vagabonds. To 
^ekeepers and farmers far and wide these outpoorin^ of 
nriiHi javeniiity are peculiarly vexatious, from their destmc- 
lire eOeets on woods and fences ; yet the lover of his kind 
"ill look with a charitable eye on their occasional depreda- 
-ioM, and the philosopher will even see a wise provision of 
Kutnre in the yearning which prompta the young heart to 
leave its city home and wander forth to taste the freshnees 
Md beauty of the green fields. Grudge not, therefore, we" 
By to our country friends, the little townling his harvest of 
tifn and hawa. The evil he causes in the collection oF it 
onnot be of material consequence to you, while the siwet 
memories which he insensibly gleans along with the ruddy 
Wl, and the healing influences which the merest contact 
"ith outure produces on the spirit, are of immense impor- 
tance to him, and may render him, in his after-Ufc, amidst 
!h<3 irksomeness and the temptations of the crowded haunt 

ten, both a happier and a puter \icki^. "ftwari^sAKi^ 
be the memory of llie mau wVoaft to-faaaJv^iaai^ieKa. 


eiitirel7 spent is the verdureless mazes of the dtj; bat m 
nould fain hope, a,oA indeed feel pmmiaded, that there aio 
comparatively few who have been so utterly imfortunate. 

It w&a in OUT own haw'gathering and bird-nestiag dap 
that we first visited Cambuslang and its romantic environs, 
in a. ramble to which we now solicit tlie company of our 
renders. We have a decided antipathy to direct roads, and 
jjenerally when bu^ness is out of the quesdoD, lOftead of 
proceeding in a straight line to oux destination, endeavour if 
possibio to reach it by some species of ag-zig or circum' 
bendibus. In accordance with tlib penchant for the eccentric, 
we detenmne to make our way to Cambuslang along the 
south bank of the Clyde, which is perhaps a mile or two 
linger than the ordinary way, but which compenaates ftr 
extra length by a con^derably greater degree of beauty. 
Leaving the city by the suburb of Bridgeton, we cross the 
river by the elegant timber bridge at Dalmamoek, which 
leads to the coalpit of Farms. From the vidnity of the 
bridge a fine view is obtained of the ancient and castellated 
mansion of Fame, 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 in which tbit 
edifice was erected is unknown, but from its archil ectnral 
^tures it is evidently of great antiquity, In recent timet 
considerable additions havo been made to it, but as thest 
have been studiously kept lubordinato to the old fabric, anc 
are in strict hnrmony with its characteristics, it still presorvei 
its original air of hoary eild, and is altogether one of the 
moit complete models of the baronial dwelling-place o: 
other days in the West of Scotland. In 1793 the proprietm 
of that day luid occasion to make some alterations in th( 
interior of the house. In one room a ceiling of stucco wo: 
removed, when another of wood was discovered, with c 
number of curious inscriptions upon it, generally inculcating 
'fie practice of temperance and morality. These were writter 
ia tbg old English character, and wete, c-nftanfts o^ nbt- 


it date. One of them contains a lesson which may be 
d with advantnge even in our own more <:Ivili;ied 
■tboagh pcrhflpa not more sincere age. It is as follows: — 

;e of Fflrme is principally composed of an extensive 

id fertile haugh, which BtreltheB out into a kind of penin- 

ila fomied hy a bold sweep of the Clyde. It is said to 

a considerable period a priyate property of the 

il Stuarts. It afterwards passed through various hands; 

' nfly named Crawford held possession of it ftr many 

i; snd about 1645 it belonged to Sir Walter Stewart of 

Ultimately, however, it fell into the poesesston of 

ka Hamilton family, from whom it was purchased by the 

Indlather of the present proprietor. About a himdred 

li above Dalmamock Bridge we leave the course of the 

5, ind by a road whidi cuts right across a sort of 

r a walk of a quarter of a-mile or so, arrive 

o the bank, at a point some two miles farther up the 

' At this place there is a fine row of trees on either 

^of the way, the leafy boughs of which meeting and inter- 

g overhead, form a shady arch, through which in a 

ita is seen the village of Cambuiilang, with its 

iDt cburch spire relieved against the green brow of 

Proceeding along the verdant margin of the 

soon arrive at the estate of Hamilton Faime, 

Bts of rich alluvial meadows, at present bearing 

d c«real coverings, and protected from the ravages of 

D ita occafflonal "spates" by lengthened lines of 

ment, which for solidity and strength would do credit 

a to a Dutch landscape. Opposite the promontory of 

thorn, a small streamlot called " Hamilton Farme 

" tuns into the Clyde. 

tifiicnds to trace its 


iniDgtWufTh an almost level ti 
is little to engage the attention of tlie rambler in 
anee ; yet to the student of vegetation its fertile ban 
sbundanlly repay a careful inTCfitigution. We find thi 
convolvulus {convolvulus stpimn), the woody nigi 
(soianum dulcamara), oouimun valerian (valeriarui ojjS 
two apecies of willow-herb, and a numerous variety of 
The channel Eceins to be a favourite haunt of the g 
wagtail tribe, and we well remember eome half-dozei 
ago having diEcovered the nest of a pair of kingGshe 
hole in one of tbe banks. This beautiful bird is wdl 
to be exceedingly rare in the country round GJasge 
even in Scotland. We therefore prided ourselves ver; 
on our discovery, and ondcipated great pleature in w 
its motions »nd habits. But, alas I 

" Tlie belt laid ichaTrei of mica and n 

Some colliers in the neighbourhood had also obsen 
glittering plumage of the poor birds, and " on 
thoughts intent " were speedily out in pursuit of them 
several weeks there was a constant series of lurking 
men hovering about. We never learned whether tt 
actually managed to kill the poor things or not, but « 
that the nest was shortly afterwards deserted, and t 
kingfisher has not again appeared at the spot. We ax 
to say that a similar course of extermination seems to1 
sued wherever a rare bird makes its appearance amoi 
Every now and again we see triumphant paragraphs i 
rincial newspapers narrating the destruction of omitlu 
curiosities as if it were a matter on which we 
congratulate ourselves that the^e innocent and b 
creatures are thus prevented from brightening wit 
presence our woods and fields. We have no ayropatl 
tbeae rothlesa collectors of specimens, and would muci 
3 living addition to oui cooi.^'q'a Jnuiv* 


it added to Ihe catalogue of a museum. Man^ 
f*d!-iDBaning people complain of our game-laws, and it must 
■]bt admitlcd tbat in various respects they arc productive of 
nil; but we feel persuaded tbat, were tliey ouce abolished, 
a veiy brief period indeed nould see the utter extinction of 
aaay species of wild animals ivbicb at present enliven and 
ulom our rural landscapes. The bare would not much longer 
" birplin' doon the fur r," the glittering pheasant would 
riily be banished from the greeowood, and die evening 
B of llie partridge among tlie dewy com would, ero a few 
a gone, glsd no more the ear of the gloamin' 
In France, where there are no reatrictioM on 
k destroction of "vermin," as friend Bright calls the pro- 
irpals, there is now no vermin to kill ; they have all 
■ppeared, and you may travel for days in that oountry 
a scarcely see or bear a solitary bird. The aarae thing 
rred in the more densely populated States of 
There erery man has a gun, and unbounded 
use it. The result of this system, however, baa 
in that the /era: naturiB have been almost totally eitir- 
A friend of ours, who travelled lately through a 
iderable portion of the New England States, assures us 
B he has wandered about for weeks without seeing a single 
f, DnleBs perhaps an occitsional crow, the shyness of which 
antly manifested ita acute perception of the danger 
Dntinually impended over it in the deadly Yankee 
is a consummation which no individual of 
Jle would wish to see effected in our own land. Even the 
kt lealous foe of class legislation, we should imagine, mther 
e our woods and meadows altogether deprived of thei» 
il feathered inhabitants, would willingly give up his 
leof gnnship, and admit tliat in such a case the end was an 
iQiple justification of the means. 
Pissing along the green banks of Hamilton Farme, a 

Et walk of about a mile oBd B,-\irLy\iTvu.n?,'»'w.'*SJ3w-- 
be seat of the lato Dft\\a Dtie, "S*^- ■Tsift.'Wi'^«*"-i 




plain and Bomewbnt old-fashioned, telling of timea whm 
architectural taste had not attained auch a respectuhle level 
among Glasgow mcreliants hb it bas in our own day. The 
Mtnation, however — a sloping bank which rises graduaUy from 
the winding Cl^de — ig truly delidous, while the house ia 
perfectly embowered among its fine old treea and spndoiu 
gardens. The property of Rosebank is now, aa we under- 
stand, in the possession of the Caledonian Railway Company; 
and the place has altogether a somewhat dreary and neglected 
Espect.* David Dale, as is well known, was one of the most 
eminent and most venerated merohonta of our cily during tho 
last century. He was born of humble parentage at Stewarton, 
in Ayrshire, about the year 1739, and was for aome time 
engaged as herd-boy to a farmer in that neighbourhood. 
He afterwards served an apprenticeship to tie weaving trade 
in Paisley, frimi whence he removed to Hamilton, where he 
wrought for some time at the loom in the capacity of journey- 
man. From this tumble beginub^', Mr. Dale gradiuU^_ 
raised himsolf by hb industry and perseverance, to the o 
dition of a merchant prince in the manufacturing capital Qj 
the west. He was the founder of the extensive cotton-n 
at I^annrk and Blantyre, in both of which plac 
especially the former, he made ahundaut provision for the 
physical, moral, and religious improvement of his operatives. 
Thither be transplanted niso, from time to time, i 


r the 

t orphans and other poor children &om the city, instilling iMfM 

them habits of industry, and attendmg fnithiiiUy to tlH^| 
educational necessities. He was thus instrumental in piwl 
serring many from the contamination of those vices which 
ever lurk in the recesses of our large towns, and which find 
snch e, plenteous and dark harvest among the unibrtunate 
children of neglect. In his tatMr days he became a mngia- 
iTOte in our city, in which character, as well as in that of 

nil of ptiMlo work hu teen erocfed ImmBdlitali 
noca scurMly raraatll, doa Bot by aiiy mosaii Mod 
IB iMuUly. 



lie gained golden opinions from all classes of men. 
le working people he was generally koowii na " the 
Iwieiricnt bailie." Mr. Dale died in 1806, leaving behind 
tea a princely fortune to be divided among his five daughnnt 
Ud 1 name which is sdll, after the lapse of half-a-cenfmy, 
wnereted among his townsmen. 

fiunediatelj adjacent to Rosehank arc the house and fine 
fNBiida of Morriston, tlte property of John Bain, Esq. 
lit bottse is s plain quadrangular edifice of considerable 
It is mtuated on a gentle eminence, about three 
bsdred yards from the riyer; the space in front, with the 
■XDSption of a small patch of green sward, being at present 
ndcr cnltivatipa. Everything about tlie plitce has an , 
•MBBdJBgly tasteful and tidy appearance- The hedgerows ' 
n neatly trimmed, while the various kinds of crop ara 
■nni^y luximant, and bear evident eymptoms of attention 
&di:ai«. Altogether, we should imagine, finm appearances 
Wmd his domicile, that Mr. Bain must have the pbreno- 
Jogicttl bump of "order" pretty largely developed. On the 
Ink of the Clyde below the house we find the snakeweed 
{tUggonum liislorta), the yellow goat's-bcard, and a pro- 
HOD of the white convolvulus. 

At the eastern extremity of the Morriston estate the 

Knk-bnm of Cambuslang falls into the Clyde, at a spot 

"the Thiers Ford," and at ifhich, according to 

ion, Mary Queen of Scots crossed the ri«* in her flight 

Langside. This little streamlet boa its orin^ at 

fhill, on the borders of Carmunnock, about two miles 

*-half to the south. From its devious tendencies, how- 

^ it has in reality a much longer course to travel than 

dittsnce would seem to indicate. It is indeed the very 

Id of a Scottish hum, and does not seem to know its 

linutea. To it might well be 

which our poor friend, Peter Still, the 

Buchon poet, has so esnaisite\^ iewaSoiii.'&i.f««^'*'is.^ 

«f « muneless ixortk uuouljc;} ksv^^-i — 



Ultb to lu' llie LDvefjr glon." ' 
Partly by the mennderings of the bum, and partly by k 
flower-fringed road, we now proceed towards the ■village ( 
Cnmbustang, wLich lies about half-a-mile to the south (rfi 
Clyde at this point. On tbe ono side of fhU way are I 
fertile lands of Momaton, on the other the finely-wooc 
grounds of Westbum. On the one hand neatneaa i 
order, on the other neglect and comparatiTe dcsolstii 
The estate of Westburn is the property of John Gra 
Esq., of Craigallion, who, not being a resident o 
liae apparently left it very much for Beverat yeara to | 
freedom of ita own will, or in other words, to " hang a 
grows." The pleasure grounds, which have at one pa 
been of the most elegant description, and which are 
very beantiftil, are overrun with weeds, while the fine t 
trees are sadly in lack of a tastetiil pruning. The bum a! 
which winds in picturesque curves through the park, is, 
some places nearly, choked with sc<3ges and rushes, amcf 
which one could almost fancy it was murmuring over 1 

Cambnslang is rather a duster of villages than one i 
township. It is divided into two portions by a deep n 
down which the waters of the barn pursue their c 
towards the Clyde. On the south-eastern side are EirkU 
Vicarton, and Sauchiebog ; on tlio other, Bushiehi!!, Silv« 
bank, and 'Wcstciiats. From the elevated and uneven nat 
of the ground on which it is built, Cambuslang presents fi 
many points of view a highly romantic appearance. It 
jio pretension to architectural elegance, tW. \ioMae» W 

*ilh very few esceptiona, of the plaufeat description. Most 
of them, however, have kuil-j-.irda attiiehed to iheak^ luid 
*> ire pletueil to see, that besides the necessary kitchen 
^(geUblea, a consldemble proportion have small plots 
ivfiMi to the culture of flowers. The population is pria- 
^illj composed of weavers and colliers, with a sprinkling 
^Kusans and ogrieultural lahourera. 
iW Suuchiebog, where we enter the village, and imme- 
Kly on the edge of the ravine or glen, wo aqe shown the 
s vbere a chapel, dedicated to the Yirgm Mary, once 
id, This edifice, which was founded and endowed in 
B9, by William Monypenny, rector of Camhualang, has 
Ig been removed, not the slightest vestige of it being now 
Four acrea of land, which were attached to 
B otftblishment, are still, however, called ''the Chapel 
The railway from Glasgow to Hamilton paaaea 
site of tho chapel. We would recommend 
, at least such of tliem as are not overly diunty 
It the brilliancy of their boota, to take the bed of the 
It this place, and follow ita course to the vicinity of the 
], which lies about the third of a mile farther up, 
s cur route, and although we have considerable diffl- 
in making our way, by leaping from stone to stone, we 
imply repaid for our labour by the wild beauty of the 
The sides of the ravine ore of the most mgged 
1 tangled description. In some places they ace quite 
idlHtoiia, and from fifty to sixty feet in height, being 
i of stratiQed rocks of sandstone and shale, which 
It be found well worthy the attention of the geological 
The vegetation also is unnsunlly proftise. Among 
I more remarkable specimens are the enchanter's night- 
e (ctrceca lutetiana), fool's parsley (atliuaa eynapiam), 
lock, woodsage, and a variety of our most handsome in- 
IKUU grasses, among which are the elegant single-ftowered 
io grau, and the graceful aira cceapUosa. Tarat ^tt wm-st^ 
1 the glen, at wUcb. gctiu'p c& ^i^a 'vt'SBi.-i!os». 



village, with their water pitchers, are generally congregati 
tending an adiUtional charm to the landscape, which is 
gethcr of the most picturesque nature. One of tbese sprii 
called "the Borgie -well," ia famous for the quality t^l 
vrater, which, it is jocularly said, has a, deteriorating influen 
on the wits of those who hahitually use it. Those i 
drink of the "Borgie," we were informed by a gi 
fellow who once helped ub to a draught of it, are 
turn "halfttaft," and will never leave Cambuslang 
can help it. However this may be, we can assure e 
our readers as may venture to taste it that they will find! 
bicker of it a treat of no ordinary kind, more espeeiallyi 
they have threaded the mazes of the glen, as we have b 
doing, under the vertical radiance of a July Bi 

The parish church of CambuBlang is finely situated o\ 
natural terrace which risea to a coseiderable height a 
the bum, which meanders in graceful curves around its baa 
A more beautiful aite for the "houaeof God" cannot w 
be imagined, and we really think that the buryiag-g 
with its fine old elms and quiet secluded aspect, ia 
the most pleasing specimens of the " country chnrch-yar 
which we have ever wifneasod. It recalls to our minds t 
picture which Gray has ao exquisitely drawn, and w 
refrain, while resting on one of the iinasauming headstonJ 
from repeating to oarselves his inimitalilo lines,— 

We find nothing remarkable among the gravestones. They 
are generally of the plsinesl and most unpretending descrip- 
tion, being porhapa in this respect more truly appropriate to 
the quiet "city of the dead" than the monumental pomp 
now BO common in our fashionable cemeteries. Pride is 
surely sadly out of place in the church-yard. 

The church of Cambuslang ia an exceedingly eleganl 
structare of modern erection, forming wil\i 'Aa \ip».MS.\ti3M 


enaStMfJma and stohmont. 89 

^Bfioe fe&ture in the landscape for miles around. In 
lb ncinity of the church ia a manse, a handsome building 
Oiffnmided by an extensive and tastefnlly- arranged garden, 
•wl the parish Echool, a, coiiiinodioua and tidy-looking estab- 
•Dlment. Besidea thia, we understand there is another large 
'^1-bauae in the village, so that there seems to be no 
w af proviNon for the educational wants of the juvenile 

A Ettle to the east of the ciinrch there is a spadons na.tnral 
•nipWlheatre, formed on the green aide of the ravine which 
« hwa previously described. This was the scene of an 
nttsordinflry religions excitement in 1743. Mr. M'Culloch, 
tta minister of the parish, was in the habit, for a consider- 
■He time previously, of conducting public worship in this 
liMBtiful spot, and so efiectual were his ministrations that 
CMmla began to flock from all parts of the surrounding 
HUntiy to hear him, under the imprcBsion that a special 
Wtpoiiring of the Divine Spirit had there been vouchsafed. 
Kmj who had hitherto been indifferent to religious matters 
NCKue inspired with the greatest devotional zeal and 
nftn^m. Meetings for prayer and prdse were for a con- 
Adenhle time held daily, and symptoms of an extraordinary 
lind began to be manifested. In the New Statistical 
ieeomt we find the following description of this curious 
•to, which is known as " the Cambualang wark." 

"The first prominent eifects of these multiplied services 
ncnured on the 8th of February. Soon after, the sucra- 
■neot was given twice in the space of five weeks, on the 
nth of July and on the 15th of August. Mr. Whitfield 
W wriTcd from England in June, and many of the most 
popular preachers of the day hastened to join him at Cam- 
ladug — such as Merars. Willison of Dundee, Webster of 
Cgh, M'Knight of Irvine, M'Laurin of Glasgow, 
of Kinglnssie, &c. The sacrament on the 15th 
was very numero«s\y attenfei. CVivt \ict& tiw 
Ttt tfce loirer estremity of tiis 


66 CAMBTjauiNa and dtcbmoxt. 

alluded to, near the joining of the two rlvulete, and here 
eacrament was administered. A second tent noa erectec 
the church-yard, and a third in a green field a little to 
west of the first tent. Each of these was attended n 
great congregations, and it has been estimated that not 1 
than 30,000 people attended on that occasion. Fi 
Dlimstcrs preached on the Foat-da^, four on Saturday, fo 
teen or fifteen on Sundny, and Atb on Monday. There » 
-25 Ubles, about 120 at each, in all S,000 cominniiiciu 
Many of these came from Glasgow, about 200 from Ed 
burgh, 09 many from Kilmarnock and from Irvine a 
Stewarton, and also some Irom Eogland and Ireland. 1 
'Cambuslang wark' continued for six monthg, from I 
February to 15th August, 1742. The number of 
converted at this period cannot be ascert^ned. 
M'CuUoch, in a letter to Mr. Bobb, dated 30th April, 171 
rates them at 400, of which number TO were inhabitants 

CambuBlans."— A couple of old hawthorn trees near 
margin of the burn are pointed out as marking the posit 
-where Whitfield, the fikmous preacher, stood on this ocean 
and marvellous stories are told of his powerfiil voice, wb 
according to tradition was heard for miles around. In 18 
the centenary of the strange occurrence yie have describ 
sermons were preached on this spot ; and more recently 
echoes of the glen have been awakened by the pot 
eloquence of Chalmers, who preached here (on what 
occasion we do not recollect) to an immense auditory, 
all accounts the Cambuslang people would be nothing 1 
■worse of another revival. VVoare assured they are anythi 
but a, kirk-going people now-a-dnys. The parish minis 
has too often to complain of indifferently filled pews ; wl 
a large Dissenting inceting-house, at the west end of I 
village, has actually been closed for lack of support. 

While we linger at this place, groups of happy boys i 
paidlin' in tlio burn which Hows stveetly past. Two ambitJi 
urchins are seated among the bianthea of ilia oli At 

IfM, platJcing the green haivs and shouting in very light- 
■omeneisof heart— a fair-boired laseie is bertUng cattle an 
^e preaching brae— and the place altogether baa an air of 
pcai:«fu! and tranquil beauty, in the highest degree pleasing, 
' teihly suggesting b cotitrost with the wild Bceoea of 
iBmam which it witneesed in the past, and which buey 
fc»j endeavoore to recall. 

South of the village of CambusUng, the ground gradually 

the! liiroQgh a succession of gentle undulations to the b'll° 

If Tnttilaw and Dychmont, the tatter of which was long 

Druidical forefatbcra as & itation for their 

iHKDDg bellane fires. Towards this fine hill, which ii aboQt 

lnil« uid a-balf or so from Kirkhill, we now proceed by a 

pleasant path, pasung Cairns and Giibertfieid. The 

cutellated bouse of GilbertSeid stands in a commanding 

IQ Dear the foot of Dychmont. It is a picturesque 

tdificc, with peaked gables and a couple of small turrets. 

several armorial carvings over the windows, and 

lq)liear» to have been erected in 1607, as that date is still 

'tinctlj legible on the eastern wall. Giibertfieid, to the 

itimental rambler, is rendered a place of more than 

interest from ita associations with the memory of 

Ht. William Hamilton, a Scottish poet of some distinction, 

reuded within its walls for many years. He was a 

iWmporary and correspondent of the celebrated Allan 

■may, who says, in a rhyming epistle which he addressed 

Buuilton — 

■BOllier staiiKa of the same production, Ramsay expresses 
admiration of Hamilton's poetical efiiisioiis, iii a style of 
»e which is certainly more remaxkaXAe fct Axti.^^ *«ji 
^e give it OS a cttiioBAY> — 


And hit Ibe spirit to •• Utile 

Some of oar readers, we dare say, will be of opinion that i 
inspired wigmaker richly deserTed a severe ttnioping n 
the " bittle" aforesaid, for perpetrating such a " ra^t, A 
and kittle" piece of flattery. In tbe commDQ ediUons 
Ramaay'a works three epistles by Hamilton are generally 
be found, wherein honest Allan is freely repaid in kind, t 
tbone who choose to study the " claw me, claw joa" stylQ 
criticism, will find capital specimens in their jingling ci 
apondenc«, Seyeral compositions by Hamilton, of conrid 
able merit, are to be found in all collections of ol 
poetry. Of these, an Elegy on Habby Simson, the fi 
piper of Kilbarchan, m generally coneidered the best. Tt 
K. line in this curious prodaction, it would appear that it i 
formeriy customary in Scotland to have a bagpiper plajr 
to the reapers while they were engaged on the harvest fl 
In lamenting the losa of Habby, with his skirHng {apes, : 
author says, — 

What will our agricnltatal friends say to this practice of 
olden time? or what would they think were I 
to refuse to work unless to a musical accompai 
1722 Hamilton published a translation from the anci 
into the modem Scottish dialect, of Henry the Minstrl 
Metrical Life of Wallace. This production has not added' 
hia fame. It is generally admitted to be ranch inferior 
vigour and gracefulness of expression to the original, 
however, rendered this interesting work familiar ti 
who might otherwise have been scared from its perusal 
the difficulties of an almost obsolete tongue. 

Towards the termination of his life, Hamilton resided 
Zietteriek, on the south of Dychmont, where iie Aicd \v 


ao Kdyanced age. The readers of Btirna Trill remember 
''ut in one of his finest epistles he alludes to Hamilton, in 
(smpany with Allan Ramsay and Ferguson, as occupying a 
I on the PamBBsian heights to which be could neTer 
lope to climb. We give the verse in which the allusion 


The bniEs o' feme, 
Or FfTflUAon, tba writer cLiel, 

"Oirtlie name of Gilbertfield is seldom benrd, while that of 
Be imJcnown ploughman has become a household wonl 
!r the English langaage is spoken. 
Die house of Giibertfleld is fast fallbg into a ruinous 
hl«. It was last inhabited by a. gamekeeper io the employ- 
^^ M of the Duke of Hamilton, This individual, a stalwart 
ti^ishmnn, as some of our readers may remember, was 
Madcutidly shot by a yonng man belonging to this clly a 
• yeaiB since. After this melancholy occurrence it was 
CNffted, and is now only used as a kind of Etorchouse by 
■t- Web, a neighbouring farmer. With the permission of 
& geatleman we examined the interior of the ediGce with 
ntiderable interest, but discovered nothing worthy of 
'il remark. A number of the apartments are entire, 
a nught yet be rendered habitable ; the itinds, however, 
V free entrance by the shattered windows, and the -walla 
« already begun to manifest symptoms of dilapidation, 
le the awallow and the starling have taken possession of 
I deserted chambers. The prospect from the turret 

is extensive and beautiful. 
"We may remark, however, en passant, that besides having 
D the residence of the above bard, Camboslang pariah 
■ pven birth to several individuals who have attained 
"a the world of letters. It was the birth-ijlaoa of 
i. London, the celebrated boTtis.\ii.-vaii -ktAct, *Swsa^-. 
3 have learned, tWi6»nox'Mn^-^wBR°^^'^^'* 




him on the spot', end of Dr. Claudius Buchaaao, t 
of Asiatic ReseareJiea and other works. Relatiaos of j 
latter, we believe, are still residbg in the village. It is d 
whiapered, sub rosa, that the clever authoresa of j 
Douglas, a, recent meritorious work of fiction, was bom B 
quite a hundred miles from the of CumbuBlang, » 
gleaned a, number of the characters introduced into I 
production from real personages who lived, or are BtUl livfl 
withio DO very great distance of that locality- 
Setting " a stout heart to a stej brae," we now leave i 
dreary abode of the old poet, which we commend ti 
attention of our local artists, and commence the aactint dl 
Dycbmont. A short though somewhat wearisome ^ 
bringa us to its brow, which ia 600 feet above the c 
level. There were formerly traces of ancient building! J 
thia, but they are now almost totally obliterated. 
n nettle, however, grows abundantly ii 
ia well known that this plant seldom grows unlesi 
tbe vicinity of human bsbitadona, or near places where t1| 
have once been. In the depopulated Highland glena, d 
sites of the ancient clachans are generally marked bn 
profuse growth of the nettle. It ia said that about fl 
years ago ruinous remains were very extensive on Dycbmi 
but that they have been gradually removed for the pur 
of bailding walls and constructing roads. Spirit of Oldbn^ 
what a deaeurution '. But reverence for the antique d 
not aeem to be a Cambuslaug virtue. The Lady Chapel, ■ 
we have already remarked, exists but ii 
indent castle of Dnimsargard, which stood about a mile M 
the eMt of the church, has totally vanished, tbe ploofl 
having long ago passed over its site, About sixty y 
nnce it remuned a stately ruin, but it too was pulled d 
by ruthless hands for the mere sake of its building materia] 
and that in a district where excellent sandstone ia 
almost for the liiling I 
lie prospecl from the summit of Dychmont ia of the n; 


extensive and varied description, embracing the vale of 
Clyde &Gm Tintoc to Dumbuck. To the east are seen 
towenog in pride Bothwell Castle^s ruined walls, the church 
of fiothwell, with the extensive woods of Hamilton, and far 
•way on the horizon the Tweeddale and Pentland hills. To 
the north and north-west the spectator sees Cambuslang, 
fiotherglen, and Glasgow, with towns, villages, gentlemen's 
Beats, and comfortable farm-steadings innumerable, while 
the serrated ramparts of the Highland mountains bound 
with their wild beauty the far-stretching line of vision. To 
the south are the woods of Crossbasket and the romantic 
glen of the Calder, with the dreary moorlands beyond Eil- 
^e. Altogether the circle of scenery visible from this 
"ooigne of vantage " is of the most rich and varied descrip- 
tion, and would of itself amply reward a summer day's 
joorney. Dychmont, we may mention, is the subject of a 
<feicriptive poem of considerable merit by the late John 
Stnrthers, author of the "Poor Man's Sabbath," who resided 
for some time in this vicinity. 

Havmg now reached the boundary which prudence allows 
to our ramble (after resting our somewhat wearied shanks 
for a brief space), we commence our homeward walk. 
™ead of returning by Cambuslang, however, we cross the 
hiH in a south-west direction, and by a country path make 
our way to the Greenlees Toll on the Glasgow and Muirkirk 
wad. From this a smart walk of an hour and a-half's 
duration brings us by Rutherglen to our own good town. 


In a letter to Mrs. Dunlop, the bard of Coila remarks that 
one of his dearest aims was the ucc[ubition of aulGcieat 
means to enable him " to make l^surely pilgrimages throng 
Csledoma, to sit on the fields of her battles, to wander 
the romantic bajiks of her rivers, and to muse by the at»t 
towers or venerable ruins, once the honoured abodes of ! 
heroes." Ahnost every individual of un imaginatiTe te 
perament must have experienced a similar deuire. "i 
stream which has been ennobled by song, the field wbeti 
freedom baa been won in blood, and the gray ruin where ii 
ages long past tbe great and the good have dwelt, wiJ 
always' attract the pensive wanderer, and by thar associ 
lions awaken in bis bosom emotions of sympathy ant 
ence. What Scotchman but has felt a yearning to v. 
the " banks and braes o' bonnie Doon," or tbe green syli 
windings of Tweed, and to croon to himself amidst I 
scenes of their birth, the songs and ballads which have b< 
linked to their names, and which lend unto them 

What patriot but has Inuged to muse on the spots where K 
Wallace and a Bruce have struggled and bled for tbe bonouri 
and independence of their native land, or by the shattered 
and " howlet -haunted biggins" which have been rendered; 
aacred by their presence, or that of aome of their gallan^ 
compeers? It is, indeed, a pleasant way of studying tl 
history of one's country, thus to waoder op and down) 
deciphering its principal incidents, as tbey have been inscribed 
fy the laithful and loving band of hoar tradition o: 

sad to liDil tLat though the ploagh may have 
(he blood-stained soil of the battle-field, and 
flongli the defacing influcticea of centuries and the elementa 
DUf htve banished comfort and security from the once 
pwnd ind impregnable tower, leaving it lonely, picturesque, 
isd detolate, still the memory of " what has been " lingers 
ii linng hearts, tbe cherished treasure of sire and eon, ebed- ■ 
dingahalo of sentiment around each halloned spot, which 
Ude deGuce alike to duration and to change. 

ScotUad is peculiary rich in this interesting species of 
loie; bat even in Scotland there ore few localities wherein 
tt eusta more largely, or is associated with more beautiful 
oEijectB, than in those through which in our present ramble 
•e warn the company of our readers. In deference ( 
fapai weather which marks the close of June, we ar 
to d^art to some extent from oar pedestrian rule, and take 
•inutage of the means of transit afforded by the "rail." 
r start, then, from the Caledonian teiininuf 
of the river, wc are soon careering away in capital 

■ idirection almost due east. There Ja something escoed- 
>gly eihilarsUng to us denizens of the inty in a short 
™lw*y excursion. The eye, relieved from the moni 
■Mt of street and their tumultuous streams of life, revels ir 
fcfraahnMa and beauty of the everchnnging scenery which 
INBig in very gladness to go dancing past. One i 
W iiave the winds playing over tbe wavy wheat ; another 
•foigt us a group of Jolly Iiaymahers, with a gush of fra- 
puieeflrom the new-mown Bwatba; anon sweeps past sband 
If tioera, thumping away among the shaw-crowned ridges of 
M potato field, " that flits ere ye can mark its place," I 

d by a bloomy tract of beans, suggesting "odorous" 

□B. Kow we have the mansioQ of wealth, vrith it 

n lawns and old ancestral ttfeta-, tmii.v e.^sl■«^^ ssfCwL^-, || 


irifb, nutrliBp, nursing her babj at tbedoor, and 16 
ctirly-headed younkers tumbling on tie green. Hew^ 
have a biiJga rushing dinsomelj post, there a village wi 
picturesque spire, and ere the apectator can lettm it 
from the venerable lady at bis side, behold it a among " 
things that wore," and a landscape with cattle o 
invites his inspection, and as rapidly disappesrs. Talk 
pictare gallery! why there is none that for variety and li 
ness can bear comparison, even for a moment, ^th t 
living pftnorama of the rail. We are much amused o 
present ocenaion with the vagaries of a botanical fiiend, i 
attempts to exercise his vocation and exhibit his » 
Hcnmen by enumerating the vaiiom species of plants ir 
he detects growing along the line. While the train 
ing moves slo<v1y, he keeps calling our attention every nm 
and again to mhat he calls "magnificent specimens" of hi 
floral favouritea ; but when the increasing speed sends tb 
Amy in rapid pursuit of the dandelioii, the dock a-h 
aAer the nettle, and the wild rose seems in danger of bra 
ing her neck in an extremity of haste to escape &oni<fl 
threatened embraces of the stalwart and jaggy thistle, ( 
fiiend's head seems all at once to grow light, he appears a 
to gaze at the more distant portions of the landscape ; 
to our infinite relief, we hear no more of his long-w 
Latin names until we have arrived at our destination. 

The line between Glasgow and Blantyro, a distance ( 
some seven miles, passes through a delicious tract of countrj 
There nrc two intervening stations, Rutherglen and Cam 
buslang, at both of which we stop, although we arc somewhc 
surprised to observe that no pasaengeta are either taken u 
or set down, while the booking-offices have rather a drear 
do-little appearance. We should imapne, indeed, from th 
limited extent of these towns — the condition of their inhabi 
tonts, who are principally weavers, miners, or agricultun 
Jaboarera — and the comparative shortness of their distance 
from the city, that the returns liom e\\.'iiGT -wfi. tvA XsW^ 


"Imbbj fignre ia the Bnm total of tlie coinpanj-'a revenue. 
UtPE are several fine views of the Cathkin and Dychuiont 
tt ftom the line, looking aoulhward ; while the vale of 
Cljde, with occasionul glimpses of its waterp, forms the 
pritdpal attraction to the north, In about half-an-hour 
■Auilartbg. ve are set down at Low BlaDtjre, which wc 
hnediatslj proceed to inspect. This nent and cleanly little 
iSiige a finely situated on a high bnnk which overlooks the 
Clyde, here a beautiful atreatn about eighty yards in width, 
llifl houses, which are arranged in squares and parallelo- 
inuM, are the property, and entirely occupied by the opera- 
tiw of Messrs. Henry Monteith & Co., whose extensive 
miiii and dyeworks are immediately adjacent. Every 
•Wntion leems to have been paid hy this eminent firm to 
4e Hwrsl and physical welfare of the inhiibitanta. They 
^ erected a chapel in connection with the Established 
C^lniKh, capable of accommodating 400 sitters ; and we 
luderUand that they annually contribute a handsome sum 
Ivwds the maintenance of the clergyman. During the 
*wkthe edifice is used as a, schoolhouae, for the education 
•fills viMoge children; the teacher being partly supported 
StIwMpenseoftlie Company. All the moans and applianoia 
.<f deuliness, to boot, have been apparently provided for 
tbc population. An abundnnt supply of water, for culinary 
other purposes, is furnished from the works; while an 
•Benjive building, with a spacious green attached, aiTorda 
Giinlity for the necessary scrubbing and bleaching;. 
iUqether Uus appears to be quite a model of a manufactur- 
■C village ; everything in apple-pie order — the lenamenta 
Mfwiable and tidy-looking — and the inhabitants seemingly 
Itby and cheerful. The oldest of the Blantyre Mills was 
178£ by the late Mr. David Dale and hb partner 
r. James Monteith. Another was built in 1791. Shortly 
premises for the [iroductioQ of the beautiful 
!hlritey-red dye, lor which the firai baa VQTi^\«e& ui^^RW**., 
B ^eted i and graduaWj, tvom \;vcq% «> <vto£ «vtsrb: ■&< 




period, the estabUshment has been extending, until now, 
believe, upwards of 210 horae-power ia required for 
propulsion of the machinery, and about 1,000 individuala 
eogogcd in conducting the various operations. 

Following the downward tourae of the iiTer, we i 
direct om steps towards the riiios of the ancient Prioix 
Blantyre, which are situated in a beautifuL and BBdli( 
spot, about three -quarters of a mils irom the vilkge. 1 
footpath leading to the Friory hes along a finely wooc 
bank, the leafy luxuriance of wbich forms a delightful du 
to protect us from the vertical radiatice of the midaumii 
HUH- Under the trees the earth is carpeted with a rioh pi 
flision of vegetation. We observe many of our moet gra* 
fill uncultured grasses, with their drooping plumes a 
silken panicles, waving by the margin of the Clyde, whu 
from the impulse of the dam at the Blantyre Works, n 
here with considerable velouty. In the deeper recesaea 
the wood, we God the elegant little melic grass (mdica w 
fiora) intermingled with the glosay leaves of the wood~nl 
and other sylvan plants. We alao observe the 

"StuCflljr foxglova &1r to see,'^ 
(digiCalii purpurea) nodding its towering crest of crinu 
bells, the broad-leaved helleborine (epipacCis laiifolia), wi 
its curiously plaited foliage, aod those most beantifiil 
our indigenous geraniums, the wood crane's-bill (gerann 
syloaticum) and dusky crane's-bill (geranium phisam) gro 
ing in great abundance ; while the pink-Howercd woun 
wort, the purple-tufted vetch, the yellow bed-straw, and 
bright profusion of kindred blooms are thickly strei 
wherever an opening in the leafy canopy overhead perm 
an entrance to the solar beams. The time of the singing 
birds is nearly past, hut occasionally the joyous chant of t 
wood-warbler, or the merry trill of the wren resoon 
through the green gloamin', and drowns for a time the ht 
of countless insects which seem to be enjoying their litl 
iiour of life with music and dance in the genial 


After a pleasaot ramble through the tangled nrnzes of the 
»d, we arrive at the Prior)-, which is situated on a pre- 
opitoai rock rising to a considerable height above the Clyde. 
Qie building, which is of a fine-grained red sandatone, baa 
ippnreutly been at one period of great extent. It is now, 
tHuerer, a complete wreck. A portion of the waLs and 
■with several windows and a fireplace, on the verge 
-liiia precipice, with a kind of viiulted chamber now threat- 
tning to fall in, are all that has been spared by the hand of 
Efflfe There are several trees growing among the ruins, 
led the walls are partly covered with the momniul ivy, 

"SnUf^hW sprlncJDf, 
Whcro prlUe «nd pompTiavE paaed awaj, 

Ijte Mendibtp dlaghif." 
On Ihe opposite bank are the extensive remains of Bothwell 
Clrtle; and the view of this lordly edifice, proud even in 
Jms)', as seen from the Priory window, with the murmuring 
Clyie between, forma altogether one of the moat inleroating 
Bd loYcly landscapes imaginable. We well remember that, 
in i eonveraation which we bad several years since with the 
■M Professor Wilson of Edinburgh, who lived for some time 
■tHiQmde in this vicinit)', he talked in the most enthusiastic 
U of this scene, and stated his conviction that it sur- 
JukA anything of a similar character in Scotland. The 
tloquGnt Professor fiartber remarked that many a summer 
ig hoar be had spent in wandering about this inlercst- 
ifipat. Little is known of the history of the edifice. To 
i, in its utter desolation, the lines of the poet are peculiarly 

"Lonely muitlon of Oie dad, 
LoAving iba in nila hofti?." 
u from an old document to hare been founded in 
ind to have been a cell of the Abbacy of Jedburgh, 
nates of which are said to hiwit fo"Mi4 AnAWi 'wapi, 
naUj- when the intucsiQiaa ol "V-n^iAv T»aai!»%«s» 

rendered the border countiea inBecure. The name 
Walter of Blantyre, and Frere William, Prior of 
are mentioned in enciant hiitorioal documents. At 
Keformalian the eBtablishinent was suppressed, and 
benefice, which was of limited extent, bestowed in nan 
James VI. on Walter Stewart, a son of Lord Minto, 
was first entitled Commendator of the Priory, and v 
wards Lord Blanlyre, At what period tbe structure 
permitted to fall into decay ia unknown, bnt from the j 
criplion of Vte Sheriffdom of Lanark, publbhed by Hami 
of Wiahaw about a century and a-half ago, it appears t^ 
that time it was the occasional residence of Lord Blanl 
Such are almost tbe only incidents of an authentic na 
which history furnishes regarding this ancient edifice an 
former inhabitants. 

Tradition says that a vaulted passage under the C 
formerly existed between tbe Priory and the Castli 
Bothwellj and Miss Jane Porter, in the Scottish Chiefij 
taken advantage of this alleged subaqueous way to heigi 
the dramatic effect of her story, the scene of which — as i 
novel readers are doubtless aware— is pnrtly laid here, 
our first visit to the Priory — a goodly number of years > 
— onr guide, a school-boy from the adjacent village, to! 
that according to a winter evening tale current in 
neighbourhood, the popular hero, Wallace, in a seaaot 
difficulty once found shelter from his foes among the eoi 
inmates of this establishment. By some means or otiier 
usorping Southrons learning where their terrible oppoi 
was concealed, a large party of them at the dead boi 
night determined to secure hira and earn 
reward offered for his apprehension. To effect this 
surrounded the building, with the exception of that poi 
overhanging the precipice, which from its altitude 
considered perfectly secure. While they were thunda 
at the portal, however, and demanding the surrender of 
Jtni^bt of Ellcrslie, that doughty chief, nothing daunl 


dipped out hj one of the windows, leaped at once oyer tke 

rock, and fording the Clyde, made his escape un<liscovercd. 

As a convincing proof of the truthfulness of the legend, we 

were then taken to see an indentation in the solid rock 

below, which bore some resemblance to a gij^antic footmark, 

and which we were seiiouslj informed had been caused by 

tiie foot of Wallace on that eventful evening. A fine spring 

JKaes from the ground at this spot, the waters of which flow 

iato the sacred footprint ; and we need hardly say that it 

WM with a deep feeling of reverence for ^^ Scotia^s ill-requited 

doef" that, on the occasion alluded to, we knelt down and 

took a hearty draught from the alleged pedal mark. Our 

fioUi, we are sorry to say, is not now quite so strong. On 

cor present visit we scarcely discern the resemblance to a 

footprint which was formerly so obvious ; and although we 

^ our beard in the gratefully cold and crystalline water, 

tile delidoua awe which we experienced then comes not 

again over our spirit. 

" Woe'B me, hofw knowledge makes forlorn ! " 

and how Time rubs the painted dust off the butterfly- wing 
of youthful fancy I How woMly defaced is now the creed 
of our sunny boyhood 1 The fairies are banished from the 
leafy solitude ; no wandering ghost in the glimpses of the 
moon haunts the ruined tower of other days. Well indeed 
might the poet Campbell exdaim, — 

"Whence science from creation's fsce 
Enchantment's veil withdraws, 
What lovely visions yield their place 
To cold material laws ! " 

Had the royal Dane lived in our matter-of-fact age he 
would have found that there is nothing now in heaven or 
earth which is undreamed of in our philosophy; nothing 
to relieve the mind from a " Dryasdust " and stem reality. 
Whether we are happier in our dreary wisdom and prying 
scepticism than our ancestors were in their gorgeous 
ignoniDoe and unsuspecting credulity, is to o\ix mvcA ^IiK^tcl^- 



what problematical. Several of our poets berades dw bi 
of Hope have expressed regret ibr the decay of tie d 
Bpirit of belief. Worilsworth saya in one of his n 
sonnets, — 

But to our tala. After lingering for a conadetable tilj 
at the Priory, and about its picturesqae environs 
our sfepa to Blantyre, where we cross the Clyde by ■ 
elegant suspension bridge, and proceed to Bothwell, i 
is situated on a gentle eininenoo about half-a-mile to ^ 
north-east. By the way we pass a neat little Unil 
Presbyterian Church, recently erected by a. congregatil 
the membera of which reside principally in the adjaci 
Tillages. Bothwell, like most other andent Scottish tc 
is somewhat irregular and scattered ; but, unlike I 
majority of them, it is remarkable for a charaote 
appearance of eleanlincsa and comfort. It i 
principally of pUiin one or two-sloreyed edifices, built wttS 
peculiar and somewhat highly-coloured rod sandstone, w 
HeeniB to be abundant in the neighbourhood. Most ofif 
houses have garden-plots attached to them, and the ni 
and luxuriance uf these attest the general taate and indni 
of the inhabitants. A love for flowere, we are happj''! 
observe, is becoming more common among oui 
generally; but it is evident, from the fine condition i 
profusion of rarer Idnds aroond Bothwell, that this is j 
new love among her people. In the vicinity a consider 
number of elegant villas ond cottages have been built ll 
taatefiil ^tuations. Many of these, we understand, wt^ 
during the summer months, occupied by the families 
t respectable citizens, and by invalids ■■ 
find here the benefits to health whicb result from a genM 
n exquisite series of walks iui£&at« 

t Ae loreliest ilescription. Near tbe wost end of the 
ffllage IB the parish church, a handsome structure in the 
fiothic stjle, which vraa erected in 1833. At the cast end 
lefthie building, imd attached to it, is the ancient church of 
krtbnel] — a fine specimen of the eccleaiai^tical architecture 
I other dnj'S. Thia ediGce, which ia said to have been 
ODded in 1398, by Archibald, Ear! of DougloB, is 70 feet 
gleagth and 39 in breadth. The roof, which is arched and 
fwaaderable height, is covered Vfith sandstone flags, hewn 
a curved form resembling tilea. It has been lighted hj 
Imge window in the east end, and a range on either ade. 
isdewe are Ehown carvings of the armorial bearings of the 
lUe&inilies of Hamilton and Douglas, and a stone which 
k tflkcn fi-om the base of the old spire, with the words 
'Mapater Thomas Dron," or Troo, inscribed on it in Sason 
This is supposed to have been the name of the 
SWrridual who built tbe church. We are sorry to observe 
It this time-worn edifice is at preseot in a shamefiilly 
{^ected condition. Tbe glass ia oitt of the windows, per- 
iSng a free passage not only to tbe sparrows, which are 
mg tlncUy about the nave, but also to the winds and the 
R, irluch have already wrought sad dilapidation on the 
wldering walls. The heavy tiles, too, are beginning to 
Unfeit a tendency to obey the law of gravitation by tum- 
Bg mward. There baa of late been but little care taken of 
ii interesting reiic of the past. It ia to be hoped, however, 
(the credit of the nelghbonring gentry, that measures 
^ ipeedily be adopted for its preservation from the utter 
in which now seems impending over it. Leaving the 
wy precincts of the old church, we next, with consider- 
wUbouT, ascend tbe church tower, which is 120 feet in 
^t, and which commands a prospect of great extent and 
tuty. At the spectator's feet, looking eastward, is the 
ge with its gardens and orchards, some of which are of 
t extent; beyond is iho grfte,Q ts-^aiafc it ftsi'JKa^li^ 
i, tbe palace and lovra oE BahSMwi^ "wiSv "ft 

wooded ^omida of the Duke ; while the fertile vale of Clj 
EtretcheB away in the distance, — 

In the opposite direction are seen Blantjre and the h 
policieB of Bolhwell Castle, Dycbmont, and the high gM 
of Kilbride, with the spires of Giasgow towering 01 
smoke, and the picturesque outlines of the Highland n 
tains bounding the misty horizon. Aflcr lingering 00 t1 
commandbg pinnacle, enjoying the splendid bird's-eje n 
which it ofibrds of the country round, until onr headbi 
somewhat light, and we begin to experience that p< 
yearning to take the ahorleat way down, which one is ■ 
to feel when looking over a precipice, we descend firoiD C 
elevated position to the quiet church-ymd bebw. 
glnncing over the memorials of departed maitaiily, i 
which the rank sward is thickly stuiided, o 
particularly directed to a, headstone, with the i 
curious inscription, the perusal of which, we are ifti 
would have ruffled the equanimity of a Lindley Murray, e 
smtdst the solemnizing influences of the field of graveBt 
" Erected by Margaret Scott, in memory of her hnsb! 
Robert Stobo, late smith and farrier, Gonitbrappla, i 
died May, 1834, in the 70th year of hia age: 

M; fi.rEO Biimct, my Ilre'i inQijei 

Bothwell manse, whiah is immediately adjacent to 
church, is, without exception, the most dellghtftil dwell! 
place of its class which we have ever witnessed, and 
is sorely saying a great deal in its favour, as every 
knows that, go where you will, " from Maidaukirk to J 
o' Groats," the most pleasant of habitations in country ot. 
town is almost invariably that of the clergj'man. 
neat mid not overly large two-atoiied edifice, situa.ted ii 


Bweet sonny nook, embowered amongst fruit trees, and sur- 
l rounded by gay parterres and green bedge*rows. It \s 
L just the sort of place tbat one could fancy a poet should 
m be bom in, and here accordingly the light of this world first 
Pi dawned upon that most eminent of Scotland's poetesses, 
'^ Joanna Baillie. Her father, the Rev. James BaiUie, D.D., 
vas sometime minister of this parish. He had previously 
offidated in the Kirk of Shotts, and it is said that his gifted 
daughter narrowly escaped being bom in that most bleak of 
parishes, as the flitting between the one locality and the 
other had just been eflecled when the little stranger made 
ber i^pearance. The following record of her birth and 
baptiam is extracted from the parish register of Bothwell, 
wbere we saw the original entry, on a page crowded with 
linular announcements regarding the debut of the sons and 
daughters of worthy farmers and weavers in (he neighbour- 
bood, the majority of whom will doubtless ere now have 
£oue to their final reckoning, without leaving the faintest 

"Footprints on the sands of time." 

"Joanna, daughter lawful to the reverend Mr. James 
Baillie, minister of the Gospell att Bothwell, and his spouse 
I^orrete Hnnfer, was bom the eleventh day of September, 
wd baptized in the Church of Bothwell upon the twelfth 
day of the said month by the Eev. Mr. James Miller, 
nunister of the Gospell att Hamilton, 1762." From this it 
appears that the future poetess, who was bom on the day 
a^ the flitting, was baptized in the open church when she 
vss only one day old. Altiiough Miss Baillie left her natal 
P^ at an early age, she seems even when far advanced in 
<ife to have recurred with peculiar pleasure to the happy 
days which, in the morning of her existence, she spent here. 
^^ a poelacal address which she presented, when her long 
day of life was drawing near the gloamin', to her sister 
Agnes, on the birthday of the latter^ «hkft «»3^^— 

O'er OS have glided aiimo&i «>\iA's ^esix^ 


l^ee we on Bothwell's bonnie bran were eeen. 
By those whose eves lon^ closed in death have 1 
Two tiny imps, who scarcely stooped to gather 

By those whose eves lon^ closed in death have been. 
Two tiny imps, who scarcely stooped to gather 
The slender narebell 'tnong the purple heather. 

No taUer than the foxgloye's q>lky stem. 
That dew of morning studs with ulyery gem. 
Then every butterfly that crossed oar view. 
With Joyftu shout was greeted as it flew ; 
And moth, and ladybird, and beetle bright, 
In sheeny gold were each a wondrous sight 
Then as we paddled barefoot side by side 

Among the sunny shallows of the Clyde, 
Minnows or spotted par with twinklmg fin, 
Swimming in mazy rings the pool within. 

A thrill of gladness through our bosoms sent, 
Seen in the power of early wonderment** 

Xor was the attachment of the poeteas to the beaatafi 

of her birth a mere empty sentiment, as the fo 

circumstance, which we learned from a fnend in B( 

will abundantly testify. About a month previous 

demise of Miss Baillie, an old lady — the widoi 

respectable inhabitant of Hamilton, and a former a 

tance of the Baillie family — ^was suddenly reduced to 

of abject penury by the burning of her house. S 

those who had known her in "better days" go 

subscription for the purpose of relieving her necesdt 

amongst others the aged poetess was written to by a 

daughter of the clergyman by whom she had been b 

Although in bad health at the time, she immcldiately 

answer to the appeal, enclosing an order for £! 

expressing an earnest desire to be informed of an 

cases of an urgent nature which might occur among 

town's-folk. This was probably the last letter wh 

hand that had so ably delineated the passions of hi 

ever penned; and thus, in the graceful performance o 

of charity, the curtain of time fell upon all that wa£ 

of this kind-hearted and unassuming woman of geniu 

need hardly add that the memory of this last expre 

her love for the " old familiar faces" is fondly cheri 

the hearts of many; for, as she herself says — 

" Words of afl'ection, howsoe'er expressed. 
The latest spoken stiVare deem'd the best" 

Adjacent to the church of Bot\ivnsSil la ^iJaa ^^y\^ 

* ''S'ldsoine edifice of modern erection, in front of which we 
*'* pleased to oliserre ft nefttlj kept flower-plot. The school- 
'"^ u ft spacious apartment, hung round with maps nnd 
"iBer "meana and appliances" of a tuitioaal description. 
^ average number of pupils in attendanoo Is said to he 
DeKhere ahout ninety. Attached to the eatahlishment is 
dwelling-house of the teacher, Mr. Hunter, and the 
' ftltogether has a look of '^ bicnness " and comfort which 
_ IT imaginatiou seems to indicate that the lines of this 
""pflTtant fiiQctioaary have, in Bothwell, fallen in an eieeed- 
'flf pleasant place. Besides the parish school, we under- 
"•Bd there are other two seminaries in the Tillage — one in 
'*iM<tion with the Free Church, and the other a private 
■dwil which is under the snperintendence of a l.iilj'; so that 
•laihooting of the young idea in Bothwell would seem to 
^ (Inmdantly provided for. 

After visiting some friends in the yicinity, and heneCting 
mtflrially hy their kind hospitality, we next wend our 
Wy to Bothwell Bridge, tlio scene of the Covenanters' 
Merflrow on the 22d of June, 1679. The particulars of 
■lis eagagement are familiar to every reader of Scottish 
""tory. Tha Covenanters, driven to desperation by tlie 
fflMlUes of Claverhouse and his myrmidons, and eu- 
"Misged hy the victory which they had achieved at 
Bmrndog a short time previously, assembled to the num- 
ber of 4,000, determined to wreat by force of arms, from 
■ unwilling government, the right of worshipping their 
Klfcer in the form which conscience dictated to be most 
11 Mcordonce with bis Word. For the suppression of this 
"rifflng" a large army was immediately collected, the 
OnuDond of which was entrusted to the Duke of Kton- 
"iouth, assisted by Claverhouse and Dalziel, both officers 
if great energy and experience. The army of the king 
«<lviinced to Bothwell on the north side of the river, while 
lire Covenanters were encampei ov* \i\ii w,■afl&^!ro.^l«Klt^»sSl. 
k-Jd possession of the biidge, ai ftvtA. -^criQft- a. 'i!.'OTt'»"« ■'^' 


in the middle, considerably elevated atruoture, which H 
defended by a, fortified gateway. Immediately previaua 
the commenceoient of hostilities the Epirit of ina 
broke out in the camp of the Covenantera. Hie house ■ 
divided againrt itself, and utter ruin was the necessaT7 co 
BeqaencB. The moderate Preabj-teriftnH and those of ei 
opiDioTLS differed as to the extent of the privileges wUch^ 
the event of success attending their eSbrts, they should i 
mand of the government. In the midst of their w 
and. bickering, the Royalists attempted to force the brici 
After a determined struggle with a, part^ of 30 
the gallant Hackston of Rathillet and Hall of Haughhe 
to whom the defence of this important post was e! 
the attacking party was ultimately successful. This olj 
attained, they immeiUately passed over, with their en 
in Iront, and formed in order of battle on the south si 
the river. Here the conllict was resumed, and for s 
time sustaiDed with considerable warmth ; but at length 
Covenantera, dispirited by their repulse on the bridge, ■ 
advantageously posted, and wanting that union so esa 
to success in arms, were thrown into coniiision and t 
routed ; 400 were killed, principally in the retreat, by 
merciless troopers of Claverhouse and Dalziel, and n 
than 1,300 were taken prisoners, many of whom wei 
wards executed. Tbe author of the "Clyde" givesagn^j 
account of this disastrous action in tbe following lines : — 

" Where BnttaweU Bridse omaccts the nmreln sleep. 
And Clyde below nins Ulorit. ftrons. BPd dsap, 

This difierence in the dispositions of Monmouth and Dund 
or Claverhouse, as he was than called, is quite in accordai 
ii'jVfi history and tradition. The foimcT la aoii. to'Wiai 


Ion his aoldicra merny to their Tanquiabcd countryiseii ; 
j pleasing atory regarding him is current in Botliwell. 
ft house in the village, recently demolished, is snid to 
Men the scene of a council held by the commanders of 
kal snnj, previously to the attack on the bridge. 
rthe coancil v/aa sitting a little child, unobserved by 
her, bad strayed into the house. Ailer a Icnjithened 
Ihod been made by the anxions parent for her lost 
Be at laBt fentured to peep into the apartment where 
litary chiels were assembled, and there, sure enough, 
Bd it seated on the knee of the gentle Monmouth, 
p fondly caressing it, and endeavouring to amuse it 
fte gUttering hilt of his sword. The ferocity with 
ESlaverhouse pursued and cut down the unfortunate 
plera after their overthrow on this occaaon, is well 
\ but we think the poet is wrong iu supposing, as be 
f the above lines, that it was caused by a feeling of 
I for the fate of the great Montrose. More probably 
bie result of his own fiendish passions, stirred into 
nnaty activity by shame at the recent defeat which 
pistuned at the hands of a few undisciplined peasants. 
Upect of the bridge and the ground in its vicinity is 
fcly altered since that period. The gateway has been 
Id; and, in 1826, the width of the original structure 
Keased by 22 feet. The banks of the river, which is 
bout 71 ynrda in breadth, are of great beauty, and 
(10 traces of the fierce and disastrous struggle which 
Bce witnessed. Below the bridge, and above it on 
Rh side, they are finely wooded, and brightened witli 
llion of wild flowers, fully justifying the opening Ime 
^d song, 

1^0 bridge, on the north side, is the spacious expanse 
jwellhaugh, formerly the property of James Ilamiltorfi 
M the Regent Murray.ifclTiiKi.'OogQ'M'i.&'V^^- '^-»»' 
g^.Ud taking an euiei^ &i«K!£unk,-«« 



by a delightful path, through fields of waving gnun, to tl 
farm- steading which is eituated where the dwelllng-plsoe W 
this dauntless individual once stood. The buildings m 
modem erection, and nowise remorkahlo unless irom as 
(ions connected with their site. Several esqniaMvi 
the palace and pleasure grounds of Hamilton, however, ■ 
obtained from points in this vicinity, which ar 
viuting ; and about a quarter of a-mile to the eaat 01 
there ie a picturesque old bridge over the south CaU 
irhich, according to popular opinion, is of Roman o 
tion. It consists of a single arch of twenty feet span, hi 
backed, nairoiv, and without parapets. The pavement is 
composed of smnlt round stones apparently taken from tha 
channel of the rivulet, and the interstices are thickly studded 
with gnisa and M 

■■ WMd. ofBlcrton. ftatort" M 

lliis curious slTuctnre, now somewhat timewom and dil^pH 
dated, has allogetber a strange old world aspoct, and taken 
in connection with the rippling dark brown water, and iu 
appropriate sylvan accessories, would form on escelleat 
subject for the landscape painter. 

Returning to Bothwell, we now proceed in a direction 
westward from the village, to visit the celebrated ruins ol' 
Bothwell Castle, and the beautiful pleasure grounds of Lord 
Douglas. This nobleman, with a liberality which is in the 
highest degree commendable, permits strangers to have 
access to his extensive policies on certain days of the week. 
How favourably does such a generous attention to the 
wishes of his less favoured countrymen contrast with the 
exclusive spirit which is unfortunately so generally mani- 
fested by our modern lords of the soil, and how grateful 
should the tourist in search of the picturesque feel for the 
privilege which is thus considerately and handsomely accorded 
Bim I It is satisfiictory to learn that his lordship's confidence 
io the ^lopuiar taste seems to 'lie fully appreciated, and has 
been bat eeldom aljuiied. Many ImuflieilE oaiiMBiV ^Tajitts: 


1« bwntiful eiiiilosures, and enjoy the lovely sights araund 
( casile, jet the nmeoitiea of t!ie place are but 
wirioin riolateJ. 

A wilii of about half-a-milB from tlie magnificent gateway, 

•hich is surmounted by a earring of the Douglas arms, nlong 

I [Mtfnfiiy neatly fringed with verdnre, ip some placeB pasa- 

og tiirongh lawns of closely-cropped velvet turf, in others 

WMnlli the shade of majeatic trees, brings ua to the front of 

^cious mansion of Lord Douglas. The architecture of 

■i edifice, which is of modern erection, is of the most un- 

fKKndmg description. It consists of a central compartment ' 

•"d two wings, the material of the walls being the fine red 

iloDe prevalent in the district. The principal apart- 

ta are caii! to be very extensive, and furnished in the 

elegant and tartefiil manner, and the walls of the 

ina rooms bung witli pictures by arLiats of eminence. 

short distance to the west of the house, on a bold green 

which slopes from the Clyde, are the stately ruins of 

reil Castle, the most cxlenaive and imposing relic of 

will irchitecture which our country can boost. Some 

fcioftlie former grandeur of this structure may be formed 

•fenwe mention that its shattered reraaina cover a spuca 

Ul is in length 234 feet, and in breadth 99 feet. The 

ll ire in some places 15 feet in solid thidtncss, and in 

jbt nearly 60 feet. The principal front looking towards 

Clyde consists of a lengthened wall pierced irregularly 

i loopholes and windows, and flanked at either end by 

ftydrcular tower. The interior presents the appearance 

-I \arge court, at the east end of which are the remains of 

lin windows, which seem to indicate that here stood the 

let of the establishment. There are also several roonts 

vaults in a considerable state of preservation; but 

jugh specific nanies have been given to some of these 

ei, nothing certain regarding them can now be knowjf 

the visitor may thercfoie pve \ns ^mutj 'W'sft ^««^,*s*. 

fe tbem Mgaia aa Be«m^ \kA to ^ia tt"*™- to^*- '^^^'^ 

nulla are in Bome places beautifullj' clad vith ivj and ol 
ulimbing plants, aoch as tbo clematis, the greater coDTolvt 
aoil the many-tendrilled hop, while t!ie wall-flower and 
nettle nod mouiTifully from the smnmita and the 
the walls ; and the Etarling, the owl, and the daw havftk 
had tbeir homes in the mouldering towers. To quote ag 
Irom the " Clyde :" — 

"The tnfted ETUI linei Bottiifeiri uclant ball. 

The foi peeps canliaus from tlie cnvlmd vail. 
Where ence prond Mun-ny. Clydesdile's incieat lord, 

With regard to the origin of this noble pilo little is n 
known. In thereign of Alexander H. the b&rony and cat 
of Bothwell were held by Walter Olifard, the Justiciaiy 
Lothian, who died in 1242, Dnring the tronbloas peri 
wMch followed the death of Alexnnder III. it fell in 
hnnda of the UHurper, Bdward I, of England, who r 
hero for aome tune in the year 1301. In 1309 Aymer 
Vidlance was appointed governor, and it was while rem 
here that this individual negotiated the betrayal of Wal 
with the ever-infamous Menteith. At the period when Bm 
gained the battle of Banoockburn, Bothwell Castle w 
by a Sir Walter Fitzgilbert, as we learn from the followii 
passage in Barbour ; — 

And Braocbl f o Bothwell loot the way. 
TbiC in the iBglla mennys fiy 

ScllTT WlItBT GUlWItHD Wa> ibOT 

OnpitalDCS" Ac 

After the above decisive victory, of course the Soutl 
rona %ere speedily relieved of tbeir unjast possession, s 
Bruce conferred the barony and castle on Andrew Murta 
Lord Bothwell, his own brother-in-law. It seems to 1 
fallen agiun into the hands of the English, however, i 
tfee death of Bruce, when Scotland was again invaded bg 
Edward m., as several doouments, still in ex 
written by tliut monarch, are dated at Bothwell. Afl« 


I [Wiinj! imuecession through the bands of tlie potent families 
I of Douglat, Crichton, Hepburn, and Stenart, it was fioally 
■ MUledon (be anceetors of the present possessor in 1715. 

It Kenerf in the vicinity of the castle 'm of the finest 
LMcriptkni, iadailing aeversl views of the reaches of tiie 
ita wooded banks, above and below, of the most 
dog doBcrijition. A line feature in the landscape is the old 
>7 of Blautjre, which, as our readers are already aware, 
■ ■tmted on a rock of red sandstone immediately opposite. 
(Wwdsworth, the poet, who visited this delightful localityi 
■WjrBmarkB, — "It can scarcely be conceived what a grace 
M Ctstle and Priory impart to each other." Ho further 
■he river Clyde flows on, smooth and unrulHed. 
ning to my thoughts more in harmony with the 
tatelyimageaof former times, thao if it had roared 
»a rocky channel forcing ila sound upon the ear." 
Wving the precinctK of this magnificent and awe-inspir- 
'"K relic of bygone pomp and power, we now proceed by a 
*Uily woodland path to visit the extensive gardens of Lord 
S, which ore situated a. short distance to the eastward, 
g throngh the kindness of a friend received an intro- 
a to Mr. TumbuU, heud-gardener to the osfablish- 
a received with the most obliging courtesy by 
'ui gentleman. Mr. Turnbull, whose fame in his proiesrion 
'"«, we believe, extended even beyond the Tweed, may well 
''^HiDewhat vain of the flourishing condition of bis nume' 
™ni plants, indigenous and exotic Fruits and flowers are 
'-HUiIly abundant, and superior in quality. Such pines, 
P>feB, and peadies, it has seldom been our fortune pre- 
viDtuly Id witness ; while in the floral departments, things 
"ridi and rare" seem to be here collected from every coun- 
'7 and cl!me. We are shown all imaginable vegetable 
I'uriontica and rarities, such as pitcher plants, sensitive 
{'lints, cacti of every possible shape, and many many others 
*Kii, but to name, would pmi\e a, \.w«iK>i'ft- T^«. la^Swj;.- 
''('5 j>£rosBa is very e^tenave, a&i out y\5*. tais-'sowsj^''™^" 


pens at the very nick of time to witness them i 
of bloom. In one conservatory are no less than 
distinct species of heaths, many of which ar 
beautiful, and all are in the most healthy and h 
dition. Time would fail us, however, were we 
indicate even the leading features of the bloom] 
pansy, the pelargoniums, the calceolarias, the 
the cacti, which in greenhouse and on lawn, an 
fusely yet tastefully about. Suffice it to say, 
individual of taste, a visit to this place alone w( 
than repay a ramble to Bothwell. With many 
raents of his kindness, we take leave of ow 
Tumbull, and by a pleasant, though somew 
route through the woods, return to Bothwell. 

Feeling somewhat tired with our devious p 
and the sultriness of the day, we rest in the ' 
hour or two, after which we pass over the river 
and by the " last train*' we are in a brief spa 
posited at the terminus, whence some dozen of 1 
took our start. 



te horinm to the southward of Ghisgow is bounded by a 
nnge.of gently swelling hills, finely wooded, yet with beauti- 
^ green slopes intervening, which are exceedingly refiresh- 
iog to the eye of the spectator, who, haply in *^ populous 
<% pent,** yearns to wander forth where summer is strewing 
with bloom the leafy dells, and making the nestling birds 
i^oioe in their green solitudes. For true it is, that while 

" Many a flower U born to bloah unBeen. 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air," 

foil many a heart, alive to the charms of nature, is, at the 
same time, doomed to undue confinement by the hard 
necessities of artificial life, and lefl to pine and ftet amid 
the weary cares of the city. The hills alluded to are fami- 
liarly known as the " Cathkin Braes," and our present pur- 
pose is to request the company of our gentle readers on a 
funble through the intervening country and along their 

Leaving the City then by Rutherglen-loan, on the south 
side of the river, this sweet morning in the " leafy month of 
June," we proceed cheerily on our route. It is some time, 
liowever, before we get completely beyond the region of 
smoke. If fashionable Glasgow is progressing towards the set- 
ting sun, her manufacturing industry is moving at an equally 
rapid rate in an opposite direction. If crescents, squares, 
terraces, and villas, of every imaginable order and disorder of 
^(^tecture, are rising at the west end, mills, printworks, 
^^ foundries are almost as profusely spimgffi^ xx^ Vj ^^ 
<^ counterbalance towards it easteni ^xttea)^\»"^» "Va. >iaft 


direction in which we are now proceeding, where 
yiara since there were nothing to be seen but gardens 
fields of waving grain, there is now u Inrge commanity 
factories and workshops, and a, perfect forest of tall olumiu! 
The sight of such a trast extension of our manufacturing cq 
bilities is doubtless highly gratifying to our local pride, j 
wliile muttering aomuthing about the flom^bing of GlasgO 
we are fain to hasten on our way, as we feel but 
ilegree of pleasure in lingeriag where our lungs i 
siuily made to perform the rather disagreeable functioif 
u smoke- consaniing apparatos. 

About half-a-roile beyond the outakirta of 
ing Babel, the road crosaea the Rutberglen Bum, wl 
having its origin in the Cothkin hills, after an eiceedii 
devious course, falla into tbo Clyde at LiUle Govan, n« 
oppoaita the well-known bathing place in Glasgow Gn 
Close to the bridge which here spana the rivulet are 
SbawJieldbaak printworks. ImmGdiately adjacent is an 
t«naive dam, Eurrounded with trees and thickly interspeil 
with aquatic vegetation. This is a favourite haunt of 
water hen (galliiinla chlorcipus), which may be here 
by the disciple of the good old Gilbert White of Selbon 
swimming about among the green sedges and "puddoi 
pipes" (as the equisota are fumUiarly called), in searcb 
the small fishes and larvx on which it feeds, 
while the procesa of nidification is going on, they are seldt 
to be observed near the margin of the water ; but in t 
Ijray autumnal mornings we have often surprised scorei 
them in a neighbouring field, and been amused to see tb 
helter-skelter movements in returning to the water, whent 
alann-nole was raised, Frovioualy to the formation of tl 
dam, an ancient tumulus or burial-mound occupied a porti 
of the space now covered by ita waters. Thb relic of a pi 
historic antiquity was removed about the end of the I4 
Passing Sfiawfield Toll, we walk about a tiute hetw^ 


!''«eUieiieiJ ranges of those baleful " dikes," now so doin- 
moa ironnd our large towns, and wliich are aiwojs bo uq- 
■clume [0 [be pedestrian. Tbeir tediousness, however, la 
nJitrved in the present infltance by green boughs, which, in 
"PW of exclusive owners, seem determined to find their wa^ 
vvorthe (tony enclosures, and by the singing of birds which 
nio" not of flrtiflcial boundaries. We soon arrive at the 
twiait liurgh of Eutherglen. Although now a compara- 
tivriy suibH and in aignificant member of the burghfamjly, 
bonite a greater antiquity than her extensive 
Ud opulent neighbonr. Her territories, it is alleged, at one 
Pwo^ even included the site of the present raanii&cturing 
ipitaiofthe west; and tradition yet tells that the architects 
*h Erected our venerable Cathedral were indebted for bed 
•ml board to the Euglen folk of that day. According to a 
%n3 commoQ in our boyhood among the add wives of 
Cuigow, but of course banished by that general dJfliiMon of 
iP''''o50pby which baa given Jack the Giant- Killer his quietus, 
Ud blighted the wondrous bean-stalk, it was aaid that the 
His Kirfc nras the work of a race of wee pecha (Kcts) who 
■W iheir domiciles in Rutborgltn. Tliuse queer bils o' 
'!°™>ei, it was added, constructed a subterranean paiisage 
™wMn the two localities — a work which throws the famoos 
•'''iiMai Tunnel completely into shade ; Mid as they were 
(fWigur than ordinary men, they experienced no difficulty 
' transporting their building materials throu;;h this bowel 
■the earth without equestrian aid. Had any of the juvenile 
"•eoets round the winter evening hearth dared to hint a 
™bl of the credibility of this story, he was forthwith 
JTOCed by the corroborative taie of the Highland ^per. 
*■» worUiy (who, as we have sboo learned, ii made to 
* dmilar service for sundry other apocryphal passages of a 
idred description) is said to have volunteered, a goodly 
*ibflr of years ago, with his pipes and his dog to explore 
( underground wa.'j. Kcwre&ft?, Vi '55*- «si^, 
«!)% day rfliasu^E a (iitict^ Xsouii ■ssA- tav&^'J^ 


of a successflil result, but, as the good old lady 
rated the circtunstance to ns was wont to saji iv 
voice, ** he was never seen nor heard tell o* aga 
sound of his pipes, however, was heard some ho 
Vards in the vicinity of Dalmamock, and to tl 
those who heard it, seemed to repeat, in a wa 
something like the ominous words, — 

** I doot, I doot, I*U ne'er get oat** 

Afler this tragical event the mouth of the mysterii 
was very properly ordered to be closed up, and so 
has the command been obeyed, that every afler-se 
has proved utteriy unavailing. 

Eutherglen oopists principally of one street, wl 
a direction QMrly east and west, and is about haL 
length. This thoroughfare, which is broad and w 
has a number of wynds or narrow streets brand: 
the north and south. Like most old towns, it has 
without an;f fixed plan, and has consequently soi 
an irregular and straggling appearance. The he 
but little pretension to architectural elegance, 
mostly plain two-storeyed buildings, with a cc 
sprinkling of low thatched cottages, which give i 
what old-fashioned and primitive aspect. Near 
of the town is the parish church, a quadrangula 
modem erection. The steeple of a small th< 
ancient church, on the sitft of which the presen 
built, stands in the vicinity, a venerable memorial 
ages, and associated with recollections of several : 
events in Scottish history. According to Blind \ 
biogrttpher of Wallace, a peace was concluded her 
England and Scotland in 1297. In describing tl 
stance the minstrel says, in lines the orthograph 
will puzzle ipme of our readers, we dare say, — 

** At Ruglen kirk ye traist yan halff ye set 
A promise, maid, to meet Wallace ; but let 
Ye day oflFyls approcYv^f t -wotiCiet taifc, 
Te gret Cnajifilar and AylmeT -^iOiOwc v»a\. 


Wllh liym Bfly oU piTBjt In greyna 

Ilk una otjUm b Ihiw uid anowli (jir. 

And iKie »wera» yo whUk tnll Kliaipl)' Khar.'' 

^na [he same authority we learn that it was also at this 
pUce that tie "fause Meoteith" engaged for English gold 
to comdgn his name to eteroa! infamy, by the hetrayal of [he 
pwlaas Knight of Elleralie, 

I "A maienerw. Bchir Aylmer, ban i(m puss 

At Rog)SD Eltfc, }lr twB toio'adiiT met." 
iliucJi] bard then goea on to describe, in indignant language, 
'^'i^psction entered into, and its results. 

lie the famous Allowaj Kirk, the sacred pile of Ruther- 

Cjoieeema occaaionolly to have been the scene of diubohcal 

'''gies. At least we have the outhority of a decent elderlv 

wdmife for asserting that such was the case. Aoeording to 

I W, when Mr, Dickson, who suffered swr during the perse- 

^^WUn, was in the ministry at Huglen, the reverend gentle- 

^^pwaa riding up the main street of the burglt one night 

^^B^ witching hour. While pusaing along the kirk-yard 

^^Vl, lie fiincicd, to his surprise, that he heard sounds of 

tariment issuing from his own church. Being ft man of 

ittUeaumge, he at once dismounted from his steed, made 

"•Wyinto the grare -yard, which was then, as now, elevated, 

■flh its time-honoured elms, a few feet above the level of 

™ "traet, and, looking into the sacred edifice, which wa* 

''^ited up as if for a festival, beheld, to his horror ar.d 

■QtzeiQent, several of his own congregation, male and 

'''••le, engaged ia some mysterious ceretuony, in company 

•m a gentleman in black, whom he at once knew, from a 

*fill-known peculiarity of foot, as the enemy of mankind. 

"OYoked beyond forbearance at the desecration of his 

'^''ii'di, and the evident backsliding of a portion of his flock, 

'•e roared out with the voice of a stentor, " Yo'll no deny 

'"» the mom, ye liramcrs!" and turning on liis heel, 

^lunutod his Uorae, and commencti wiiittw\%'OwsVt'*, <&'^ia 

borne. Not having t\»e beutfe. Q^ a- ■oima-B'j, ^ns«*-™-. 



however, as the gndeman o* Shanter had, tihe wor 
was soon overtaken; and although the powen 
durst not injure a hair of lus head, jet by their c 
contrived to render both horse and rider as rigid 
of petrifactions. Stt)ck- still they were eompellc 
unable to move hand or foot, nor would the band 
and witches release them from this statuesque i 
condition that his reverence would ^ve his sol 
never to divulge the names of those whom he hm 
in such questionable company. This, although 
tance, he was ultimately fain to do ; and so well 
his promise, that who the members of the diab 
really were, luui never yet been certiunly <£sco^ 
old lady added, however, that ^^ there could 1 
anent the truth o^ the circumstance, for it wasni 
that Mr. Dickson, honest man, was gaun to mal 
story even agninst siccan deiPs buddes.** 

The Castle of Rutherglen seems to have been 
a place of considerable strength and import! 
structure, which was said to have been erected 
a king whose name is associated with the origin ( 
was indeed ranked among the fortresses of t 
During the troubles which broke out in conseqi 
contested claims of Bruce and Baliol, the usurp 
of England, took possession of this and othe 
Scotland. Robert the Bruce, when he raised t 
of his country's independence, determined to 
important place of strength from the EngUsh. 
ingly laid siege to it in the year 1309. On heai 
Edward sent his nephew, the young Earl of Gl 
relieve the garrison. What the immediate re 
somewhat doubtful. Some historians assert 
overcame the garrison, while others are of opini 
was forced to retire without accomplishing h 
In ISlSy however, the Scottish, king; took p< 
Rutherglen Castle, having 6a\veii liSbi^ ^Soi^ 


coEntry, and made a descent upon England, carrjing fire 
Wid aword into several of the northern counties. 

ThiB ie almost the on!y instance in which the Caetle of 
Rulhei^len figures in history. The edifice, however, con- 
tinued in existence until the battle of Langaide, Txhea it was 
DimiL-d to the ground by the Regent Murray, as un act oi 
ieD|«ance on the house of Hamilton, in nhose bands it then 
>u. One of the towers was afterwards repaired and fitted 
n residence by Hamilton of Ellbtoun, who was then 
i and other property in the vicinity. On 

ta decline of the family it was agtdn suffered to iiUl into 

Kay, and at length became entirely dilapidated, and was 
id with the ground. We may mention that the ruin of 

B Hamilton family was generally ascribed, at the time, to 
■ immediate judgment of Heaven, drswn down upon them 
■ persecuting Bpirit. At the period when our 
fovQuuiting forefathers made such a noble stand for liberty 
of Mnscience and tlie independence of the national church, 
"*) nunister of Kuthorglen waa a Mr. John Dickson. In 
'X'uequence of an information lodged by Sir James Hamilton 
"f EUiatoun, tins good man was dragged from his church, and 
pill in prison. We shall quote a passage firenv Wodrow's 
"iiftyfy, lo show the sequel: — "Mr. Dickson was kept in 
'ItTMice till the parliament sat, when bis obaroh was vacated 
"111 he was brought into much trouble. We shall afterwards 
^i bim a prisoner in the Basa for near seven years ; and yet 
"« got through his troubles, and returned to his charge at 
■"HhHrglen, and for several years after the Kevolution 
•Wved his Master there, till his death in a good old age. 
"lulethat family who pursoed him, is awhile extinct, and 
'Wr bouse, as Mr. Dickson foretold, in the hearing of some 
fM alive, after it had been a habitation for owls, the 
•"indation-stones of it were digged up." Such is the story 
" given by Mr. Wodrow, minister of Eastwood or PoUok- 
'"'n, and who wrote iramediatdj ^.et "iaft c^«k*.- "^t 
■" The inhabitaninii'ite (^>tta.i.Na,B!t^M-*i^^?^ 

90 BurHERGLEs a 

cannot but obierve that the ioformerB, accusen, anil i 
aesaaa against Mr. Dickson, some of them tlien magi3tT| 
of the town, are broucrht ho Jow that they are anpport«4 
the charitj' of tie pariah." We shall not take tie judgnu 
of Heaven thus into our hnnda. We shall not say tbat 
oarse of the persecutor fell upon thia family, and laid t) 
proud mansion in the dual; 1 

tnemoriea of euch men as Oickson and Wodrow, and « 
yie acknowledge that there is prejudice and intoler 
their recorded language, we shaJl hy the blame rather at 
door of their adversaries than at theirs, because persecj^ 
JB aver the mother of intolerance and all unkindness. 

We may mention, before passing from thia subjeot, i 
the castle stood near the enat end of the Bacfcro 
nearly opposite to where that thoroughfare is interaei 
Castle Street. The garden of Mr, John Brj'sonnow o 
the very spot. There is not now, however, evfln 
fiintest vestige of the structure. About eighty years, 
the foundation-stones were removed. They were very liu 
measua'ing five fcet in length by four in breadth, 

Ibr some years, but they too have disappeared, and now 
andent Castle of Eutiiergleu has utterly passed away, le«i 
OOtiBven a wreck behind. 

Be»d^ the parish church, Rutbergico has no fewer i 
four other places of worship, viz., a chapel in 
with the Establishment, a United Fresbyt^riaii, a Free, i 
a Roman Catholic church. The inhnbitants would the 
fore seem to have their spiritual wants pretty well prov 
6}^. From this abundance of churches it would appear 
thejp religious character is infinitely superior to that of tS 
fincestijira, who were occasionally blamed (br conduct, 
^ttcra ecclesiastical, anything but accordant with propiii 
ne will, b^ abundantly evident from the following c 
fffi^ jBK^rapted. bom. the records of the Fresbyterir 



On Stk May, 1693, tie Presbj-teiy ordered their clsrl to 

*llle & letter to my Lord PaiHley, to repair the choir of 

fe^en kifi, and at the same time prohibited the plajTUg of 

on Sunday Irom sim-rising to its going down, and 

h all paatimea oa that day. This order to be read in 

jiHkirts, bat "especially in that of Euglca" On the 20th 

mitj, I5!)5, we find the Eame reverend conrt complaining 

* the introducdon of profiine plays into the burgh on 

^*iii!ay, and also of the dravfing of salmon and the paying 

gitntB on [hat day. From the same source we learn 

n the 20th of March, IC04, Sir Claud Hamilton of 

i«awfield interrupted the minister of Ruglen during sermon 

> 1 mast barbarous manner, and that Andrew Pinkerton 

rWoted that he had put away four ministers from Buglen, 

n hoped he would put away Mr. Hamilton also. He 

tewtrds drew a, whinger and held it to the minister'a 

Hit, while David Spcns said "he would stick twa ministers, 

l3 wald not give a fig for e.tcomoranication." Two or 

M J^rs subsequent to these outrageous proceedings, we 

^ 1 a certain James Riddel cutting grass in the kirk-yard 

B Suaday, and sitting down to the communion-table m 

TO of minister and session. Altogether, it woiiid seem 

those days the parish of Rutherglcn was not in s 

Wflition mucli superior to that of the notorious Dunkeld, 

ninhabitants of which, according to popular rhyme, — 

*' Hanged their mtntster. 

,winp are, however, in a much superior condition now- 
% the inhabitants being generally an industrious. 
It, and kirk.going people, attached to their ministers, 
Mpecially attentive to the education of their childrea, 
BUffitaently evident from the attendance of pupils at the 
commodious and handsome seminaries which have been 
•Wud in connection wi& t\ie ^.'iWWi^ci ia>^ "^^at 
^Khe». Thej seem, moieo-iet,to ^isw'i''oeHii-s«Bsai**3^^ 



taUBiuotis of old customs. The ridiug of tlio marclles, 
an uDoaal ceremony in every Scottish burgh, continued 
be celebrated in Rutherglen until 1832, when It w 
tinned. We understand, however, that it has since beet 
least partially revived. Another ancient cust«m, the bak 
of Bour calces on St. Luke's eve, ia peculiar to the buf 
and is supposed to have had an origin anterior to ChriBtioi 
itself. We have ouraelvee witnessed this curious operal 
in the Thistle Inn of Rutherglen — within the past twrf 
three years. This mystic baking requires for its pi 
execution the services of some six or eight elderly la 
These, with each a small hake-board on her knee, are se 
in a semicircle on the floor of the apartment devoted U 
purpose, and pass the cakes, wbic:h are formed of a iitii 
fermented dougb, in succession from one to the other, n 
the requisite degree of tenuity is attained, when they'i 
dexterously transferred to an individual called the q 
who, with certain ceremonies, performs the operation 
toasting. These cakes, which we have often tasted, V 
generally given to strangers visiting St. Luke's f^r. 
are somewhat like a wafer in thickness, of an agrees 
addulous taste, and lead an additional relish to the di 
usually in extra demand at such limes. The lover of 
customs would regret the discontinuance of this ( 
ceremony, the observance of which forms an interesting I 
between the present age and an impenetrable antiquity. 
Rutherglen has long been famed for its horse and ci 
fiijrs, seven of which are held on the main street of the bi 
annually, and generally attract considerable crowds of bay 
and aellera from all parts of the country. The Clydesi 
breed of horses, which has attained such a well-deseri 
celebrity for its excellent qualities, was generally exposed' 
greater numbers and in greater perfection at the Rutherj^ 
fairs than at any other market. The principal fkira are t 
Beltane in May, and St, Luke's in November, when the It 
is generally crowded with strangers. According to the 


veniDB, the number of the pnpulation was 6,947, of wliom 
3,4S0 nere males, and S,517 females It would therefore 
apiieoF tLat thertj ie a triHing ev:sss of the fair eex in the 
hwgli, but the oveqilna ia not suffidentlj- great to exciw 
iMphsag like serious alarm, more especially as the well- 
htma beauty of the Ratherglcn lasses is certaio to attract 
acoiaiderahle number of wanters from other localities. 

Alter rambling about the burgh for a coosiderable time, 
^ firing " Dio's Dykes," where two boorish rustics 
■titDiptod to intercept the unfortunate Mary on her flight 
tfoiB Langaide, we proceed fowarda Cathkin by the Glasgow 
>"d Muirkirk road. About a quarter of a-mile on the way 
piU through Stonelaw, the viuinity of which is finely 
having been extensively planted about sixty years 
by Uajor Spens, then proprietor of the esCAle. The 
would do well to imitate our example, and linger 
brief space in the umbrageous recesses of these beauti- 
^ mods, which contain many of our finest indigenous plants. 
A'i'Dilg these are the periwinkle (vinca minor), with its ^oasy 
Wb arid blue or white flowers, which Js more abundant 
ttR than we have seen it elsewhere; the hop (humnlus 
'V«ii()i the spreading bell-flower (campanula lati/olia); 
U" leaser winter-gi'een (pyrola minor); tho rare mountain 
Wt»at{rite*a/pin;im); Tariousspeeieaofgerania, and many 
Wffii, vhich will abundantly repay a leburely inapection. 

b piaaing Stonehiw onr attention is attracted by a kind 
"^ tower, near the road, which, although of comparatively 
VKHiera erecUon, is quite as picturesque as an ancient feudal 
•■eEp, being completely embedded in ivy, which is trailing 
■"er ind around it in the moat beautiful profusion. This 
''0' is It present the haunt of innumerable starlings and 
'pnrrows, which appear to be proceeding merrily under its 
"lisdtwilhitheir various domestic duties. During the few 
'■'''iut«!a we stand looking at it, we count not lesa than twenty 
stariings leaving the tower in Bearcb. of Eu^^&a. ojvi'MasVi 
W maoy returning in diffurunt, iicetiWOTia -wvSV '^t tcs^. siL 


thmr raids tbrougb the bra'rded fields around. Aa for: 
8paiTo<Ts> they appear to live oa the moBt harmonious 
with their stany neighiioiirs, and keep up aueh on ino 
dhuttering thsit it is obvious they arc quitG at home, ai 
usual, enjo^'ing themEelveB with characteristic sangfroid. 
more than ordinarily well- tempered and pliHosophii 
inside tenant of that towor roust be, or he would infallibly 
driven <^tracted by the noisj intercourse of hia featli 
6^nda outside, not to speak of the depredatiaus which 
well-known voracity must lead them to perpetrate oi 

From Stonekw to Cathkin the road gradually asc 
through a delightful succession of gently swelling knolls 
fields in a high stAte of cultivation, interspersed with clai 
of wood and fine belts of planting, the haunts of num 
birds, and at this season of love ringing merriiy with 
sweetest melodies. 

Passing Boultrie Loch, a favouiite curliog place in n 
— but which, as an Irishman might say, is in Buoimer nc 
at all, but a verdant meadow, being regularly druiaed i 
spring, when its alluvial bottom is sown with some kL 
cereal crop — we next como to Catbkin House, the fine 
of Humphrey Ewing M^Lea, Esq., situated at the eas 
e^ttremity of the braes, and commanding an extensive 
beautiliil prospect. Turning to the right, we now leave, 
road we have hitherto been pursuing, and proceed alonj;, 
■ammit of the Cathkin hills on the way to Carmunni 
which lies at the distance of a mile and a-half or a 
west. For a great portion of this distance, the 
wailed in as it were by dense woods ; but ever and anon 
opening occurs through which the eye is permitted 
over an exquisite and fur-stretching 
WOD. arrive at the highest point of the range, whi^ 
be, elevated about 500 feet above the level of the 


Mmo^bere is didigiilfull^ dear, so tbat tbe landscape, nbich 
i« Bpacions and lovely, is seen to gteat perfection. At oat 
fe«i, bftlf-hidden among its old alicGstral trees, lies Cnstle- 
ndlfc, a stately strneture of considef able antiquity, and 'where, 
itisaaid, Mary Queen of Scots slept on the nigbt precoifiiig 
IjMgside; in tbe low groands bej'Ond are seen tbe burgh 
of Rntherglen, and our own good city, neBtliog, as usual, 
uato her canopy of smoke, with a Tariely of other (owns 
and vllligea, including Cathciirt, Pollokshaws, Paieky, and 
HinfKir, The course of tbe Clyde is bare seen at a ^anue 
'^n Curm^le to Dumbarton, the glittering waters like GlA 
wurfiilioiiB of a migbly snake turning up to the light every 
fwe ud there amongst tbe beauliful wilderness of weofla 
■id fieId^ over which tbe winds are mating their mimic 
s of verdure while we stand gazing on the scene. To 
on the far horizon, are Arthur's Seat and the Pent- 
11s in the vicinity of old Edina, " Scotia's darlmg' 
« the north, Benlomond, Benledi, and the Cobbler, 
r giant neighbours ; to the west, Gleniffer, and 
B braes, with Goatl'ell peering far away over their 
E^en summits. Altogether, tbe prospect Irom this spot is 
""8 of great mterest and magnificence, and embraces, it is 
Wd, within its scope no fewer than sixteen counties. Scat- 
'^'^ around our feet are the yellow mountain violet (viola 
i«lfa), the blaeberry plant {vaccinium myrlUlua) with ita' 
pntty little crimson bells, and the golden tasselled broom, 
'wating an appropriate crest to the hill -nhicb, as tradition 
. loin to tell, once bore on itij brovr Scotia's taireat and mo3t 
"ofoTlunate Queen. 

To the geologist, the Catbkin range presents but few 

feslarca of interest, being composed principally of one solid 

Md nnifornj tnass of whin. A short distance below the 

imae of Qu proprietor, however, a beautiful specimen of 

L^VmIi is exposed to view. The columns above the surfeoe 

^^■R about thirty feet in bei^t,^vitft^OTW.'i\vi.S(nw-,«iA.Nsfflm.t, 

^^B»^e/y regular ia srraogeTiieiit,fo'CBia.t.iie^a-V'a^^'a^«'^* 


Dftde. This corioas fonnation, an engraiviDg of v 
published in lire's HisUHry ofRutherglen aboat tib 
the last century, was discovered a considerable n' 
years since by some individuals when qnanrying ; 
metal. The proprietors, with commendable taste, 1 
preserved it from further dilapidation. 

A group of gigantic burial mounds, or tumuli, 
stood upon the Cathkin hills a short distance to 
of Cathkin House. These were formed of unhei 
and were g€ great extent. One, which was openc 
sake of the stones it contained, was found to mc 
feet, and to consist in the interior of a long galkry^ 
ber, containing a number of curious relics, suol 
vessels, beads of glass, and other articles. Anothe 
rude mansions of the dead, popularly called Quei 
Law, measured 18 feet in height and 120 feet in 
For several years it served as a perfect quarry to tl 
in the neighbourhood, and at length a chambei 
covered in its interior containing no fewer than t 
urns for the reception of the ashes of the departe 
urns, as was the custom, were placed with the: 
downwards, and under each was a piece of white i 
the centre of this pile another small chamber was 
in which were found a quantity of human bones, v 
or armlet of cannel coal, and a comb of the same 
Since that period all these interesting structures 
from time to time removed, until there is not evei 
remaining. We have conversed with an indiv 
superintended the removal of several, the stones l 
for the construction of dykes and barns. He s 
they invariably found one or more urns within • 
that these were formed of unbaked clay, which cruj 
dust shortly after being exposed to the air. It ii 
to be regretted that some of these most interesting 
gestive relics were not spared for the gratiticat: 
antiquary, and as objects of coiitem^\a.\Ao\i \.o 


idsfsr. Among luoh tombs there wna imked abundant 
M for the most eerious reQection. Fur mtmy a long and 
117 veotar; they bad kept their trust in defiance of the 
i ud the rain -, and the tale they told was of aa age 
m Ihe light of Christianity hod daiwned on our iale — of 

4u4 and distant era, when our sires were a band of painted 
), and when the altar-Sres of Baal, from tho brow of 

Ifciinioul., still threw a lurid lustre over the valley of the 

'31ie old road Jroin Rutbiirglon to Kilbride passed over 
K hmes of Cathkin, and in our boyish days a considerable 
M of their surface was patent to ramblers from that 
k uid from Glasgow. The privilege v/aa oAen abused, 
B too frequently the case where such liberties are granted, 
(liaiightlaFB or evil-disposed parties. Fences mere ocoa- 
■iUy broken and depredations committed on the pkn- 
Qu and the crops, until at length, a few years since, 
IB poprietor thought proper to exclude the public from 
< tpot altogether. Considerable indignation -was eseitcd 
^tte popular mind by this meifure, and there was some 
' of making a " Harvie's Dyke" affair of it, and ondea- 
mng, through the inatrumentalitj of law, to enforce the 
U of way on the plea of immemorial usage. The ex- 
neat, however, gradually died away, no practical steps 
^^^ « taken in the matter, and now the silence and solitude 
KJUbkin are but seldom disturbed by the foot of the holi- 
9 nuderer. 

tween the summit of the brues and Carmunnock, about 

Mrter of a-mile to tlio southward of the road, and on a 

fl tract of moorland, are the traces of an ancient British 

To this spot we now direct om- steps, disturbing on 

I"fiay several snipes, which here breed among the moiat 

' Y hoHows. We also oecHsion infimte constematJon 

J the lapwings or peeseweeps, which keep wheeliijg 

d OUT head, and clamouring'jd.'; as ecs.t tbuja 

jtora may bare done lo Oic aoA fiiaiiOTii'sftBK^ ^ ■'^>k> ■*?s^- 


Eecuted Covenanters, who, in their hidin^-plitceg among t) 
moon, were fraqucutly alarmed lest tlte cries of tlie ltp« 
sliould attract to tb^r " nliereaboutB " tbe attention of 
passing dragoons. The elegant and aiTectionate bird *Ui 
to, from this habit, prompted byloveof itsofTapring, -wu 
may remark en pasaani, anything but a fevourite witi I 
*' northiea," and it was even said to be in league with I 
enemy of our race for the exposure of the faithful, 
soon arrive at the camp, the outlines of which are atill, IJ 
the lapse of many centuries, distbctly visible, 
in form, of conaiderable extent, andia atill surrounded bj 
iride and someirhat deep ditch. From its elevated pofal 
it nunmands an extensive prospect of the surrounding « 
try. Whotevar other purposes, therefore, such an enea 
roent may have been designed to serve, it seems at leoi 
hava been well adnpted for watchfulness, The view £ 
this interesting footprint of the past embraces within 
range tbe villages of Buaby and Eaglesham, with the hifl 
Uallygcich in the Meams, and the bleak moorlands beyo<Kl 
Kilbride. Tbe tufted cannach here waves in tbe blast its 
snowy plumes, the curions sun-dew (^droeera rolundifoUa) 
is also met here, with its gUtteiing beads of dew unmelt- 
ing "in very prcsenco of the regat sun;" with the marsh 
violet (_viola paluslris) creeping in beauty along the untrod- 
den heath, and the buckbean (jnentjarilbea trifuliata) and 
nursb cinque-foil (cowarum palualr&) rising above tbe dark 

Shortly after leaving the camp we arrive at Cannunoock, 
a pleasant little village, with some score or so of hoosesi 
situated at the western extremity of tbe Cathkin hills. The 
population of the parish,, consisting principally of agricul- 
turists and weavers, numbered at tbe late census 717, being 
an increase of only ten individuals within the last decade! 
It haa an old-fiialiioned barn-like church, which stands about 
the centre ol' the village, and an exceedingly commodious 
and irdl-built school, irom wbicb, as we pass, the juvenile 


Garmnimockiaiis are pouring forth with that dinsome glee 
irlnch is only heard at the skailing o* the schule, and which 
aft onoe calls back to the memory of us " children of a larger 
growth," the joys of other years. 

In the Statistical Account of Carmunnock^ published about 
ISiO, there is a fact stated which must fill with envy the 
wieMuient-cmshed unfortunates of our city parishes. There 
btt hitherto been no levy for poor-rates, and the worthy 
ttbuter, with justifiable complacency, expresses his belief that 
ndi a thing as a compulsory assessment for the support of the 
poor 18 not at all likely ever to be required. What a delight- 
ftl little city of refuge this must appear to the pauper-ridden 
^tmens of Sanct Mungo ; what an oasis in the desert, far 
my from the persecuting tax-gatherer, who, on some pre- 
face or other, is eternally prying into our books, and 
BikiDg town's talk of our most secret affisurs I The minister, 
^hwise, boasts that no indiyidual belonging to the parish 
^ erer convicted of a capital crime. Why, the golden age 
^oold seem to be lingering at the south-west end of Cathkin 
I'ne*! and we should not be surprised, if the knowledge of 
^^ good matters once gets wind, that the next census will 
>^wan infinite ad<^tion to the ratio of increase in the popu- 
lation of this really pleasant and picturesque, as well as 
^loHMt pauperless and felonless parish. 

We have now arrived at the prescribed limit of our ex- 
<^on, and afler resting our somewhat wearied limbs, for 
^ brief space, in a tidy country alehouse, which, for clean- 
1^1^ and comfort, would have pleased oven the fastidious 
^ of old Izaak Walton, and paying due homage to the 
Diaxim of a genuine Scotch poet, who recommends us on the 
jonmey oflife 

"Aye to lire by the way/' 

we commence our homeward walk by Cathcart, a distance 
of some five miles, which, being principally downhill, is 
speedily accomplished. 



The pedestrian plodding wearily along the lug) 
lengthened and devious walk, when some g 
dashes rapidly past, spattering the mud around, 
blindlxig doud of dust along its track, is apt to 1 
twinj^ of envy, and to fkncy that their lot mns 
happy one who possess so handsome and hnai 
veyance. He is ready under such circumstanc< 
" How much is their mode of progression as a 
joyment superior to mine!" Yet there cannot 
mistake. For speeder transmission from point 
matters of business, or for the salutary airing o 
the various equestrian methods of transport mf 
well; but for healthy exerdse of the person, and 
enjoyment of nature, there is nothing that can i 
bear comparison with natural locomotion. T 
travels by carriage must keep by the highwa; 
plunge into the recesses of the wood in search c 
flower ; the din of the wheels on which he is 
drowns the sweet voices of the birds. He canr 
windings of the footpath through the whisperir 
nor trace that fairest line of beauty, the " tr( 
meander," which, according to the bard of Coi 
favourite haunt of the Parnassian sisters. Th 
tinually liable to interruption from the outstret< 
the toll-keeper; his horses are always getting 
shoes at out-of-the-way places, where farriery ij 
known , or his driver, taking a cup too much, i 
over and squelch some unlucVy -uk^yh xsi^mv? 


kUe of the road, or to come tilt against a mile-stone 
Q bie nofortunate master, who, if lie eacapea with 

: tban a dislocated shoulder or a tractured 
pne, may tbank bis stare, aud consider himself an 
glj Incby fellow. Really, amidat all our troubles — 

se everybody has hia share — we have much 
V gTatJtude to Fortune, that ahe baa not inflicted on 
lege ood its cares ; and that without encumbrance, 
pay hazel iwitcb, we 

" Cm naDdec nwar orer bill uid glen, 
Fu- u fe Bar for U» genCIUDen." 

ve eeveral ways which the pedestrian may t^e at 
In his rambler from dasgovi to Cathcart. Our 
, route ia hy Kutberglen. Connecting this burgh 
tcart, there is a deligbtfUl footpath, about a mile 
in length, throu;:^ the intervening Jidda. It is 
B old kirk-roads which, having been in popular 
me immemorial, will, it ia hoped, be long pre- 
pm the encroachments of unecmpuloos proprietors, 
» many instances, bare of late enclosed and oblittr- 
f " old brown tines of rural liberty." Leaving the 
of Rutherglen by this road, wg proceed towards 
in a south-westerly direction. About a iinarter of 
t of the town we pass the cottage of " Bauldie 
a plwn one-storeyed eiHfice, which — with its pro- 
I plain blunt man — haa attained considerable IocaI 
3 Honest Bauldie, who is the subject of a certun 
mg, for many years earned a decent livelihood by 
" curds and cream," " fruits in their season," and 
p of the mountain dew. Hia edibles and liqueurs, 
f a, homely description, were always excellent in 
Ukd (he place became a. favourite resort oftiie tads 
■ of Glasgow, who, after the toils of the week. 


1, poor ElliiaBV«»'\K60OW.»^BOK*. *««■'' 

'eek, ^^^H 


might IiaTe been seen during the summer and mta 
months, in laughing groups in the garden, enjojing 
good cheer which the place a6R)rded. Baul^e had ^ 
ous neighbours, however, who were determined that ^ 
should ^^be no more cakes and ale." Complaints i 
made by these parties that the stringency of Sabbalih i 
was occasionally violated on his premises, and ultimit 
on the faith of their representations, the licensng o 
put their veto on his trade as a publican. Thaa at c 
extinguished poor Bauldie's popularity. His curds mi 
be as agreeable to the palate as ever, his "grozats'^ 
large and as well-flavoured, but everybody knows that i 
dainties are rendered much more easy of digestion n 
they are accompanied by a caulker of the Glenlivet. '. 
necessary addition to the treat Bauldie having been by 
forbidden to dispense, the result was that in a short ijsm 
found his occupation in a great measure gone, his gardei 
unpeopled wilderness, and himself a standing jest for tri 
phant teetotallers. 

At a short distance beyond the cottage of Baulctie 6f 
the road passes over the " Hundred-acre hill," a beau 
eminence, which commands a series of delightful view 
the surrounding country. On the one hand are undula 
fields, in a high state of cultivation, interspersed with gei 
men's seats, comfortable farm-steadings, and picture! 
clumps of trees, with Dychmont and the Cathkin b 
in the distance ; on the other is a wall of moderate hei 
which serves as a screen to shield fi*om withering bias 
lengthened strip of verdure at its base, which is brightc 
with the varied hues of many of our sweetest indigei 
plants. Among these we observe the handsome ye 
goat*s-beard (iragopogan pratensis)^ the sweet little 
forget-me-not {myosotis arvensis), the silver-weed {pi 
HUa anserina)^ the perforated St. John's-wort (hyper\ 
perforatani), intermingled with clusters of speedwell, ci 
wort, and bird*s-foot trefoil, forming altogether as love 

. CMintlesa kindred buda, on the eve of burstiDg Into 
, wilh their tribute of perfume for the wandering winds, 
it Bftd work the majority of our poets haye made with tho 
Wed times of the flowers I The roEe is exclusively a 
Btt flower, seldom blnoming in Scotland before the 
Bd week of Jnne. Yet how fi'equently do we see in 
Be the spring months decorated with tie "queen of 
«n!" Not to talk of minor bardg, we find Bums felling 
tlag error ; and Thomson, the minstrel of " the Seasons," 
of our best descriptive poets, invokes the spring in the 
' ig &sliion : — 

"Camo,KtnUnSpring,nUiBrealniHilnea8,come, ^^ 

mthe masters of the lyre ere thna ont of joint with the 
jng, we need hardly he surprised that with hards of low 
■« the "confusion becomes worse con founded, " so that 
i the mirror held up to nature, it would he utterly ira- 
ible, we opine, for the goddess to recognize her own 
ghakspeare, that mentsl triton among the minnows 
oetiy, is never found thus tripping. Deeply as he must 
Ittudied the world within, he had, at the sarae time, an 
ttive and loving eye for the minutest of external exists 
I. He knew the season j,^ 

" Wh(nid>l>leiiriBd vidrlDleUlitae. ,,,,1 

Jtnd tidr'sainoeka all illver whlra. 
And cuckoc bads «fjello"hiio __ ':>- 

le could tell, with an exactness as to Cime that would 
pleased even a LinnieuE, 

"Of iliiltDdililhiitciJinB bsftorc thQ^illsw dares, 

jp ft^taining the aouthcm brow of the hill over which we 



have been walking, a landscape of the mort exqdote da 
tion bursts upon the yiew. At the feet of the spectitoi 
situated at the bottom of a vast green basin, formed 
girdle of gentle eminences, is the elegant church of Galil 
standing in its field of graves, and surrounded by state! 
time-honoured trees. A little beyond is the village a 
Cathcart, half embowered in dark-green foliage, ihi 
which the blue smoke is gracefully ascending, witifa 
peculiar effect which is so pleasing to the eye of the pf 
and which so frequently tempts his pencil to imitation 
the right is the battlefield of Langside; to the left Cs 
Castle, half hidden among woods, and the ^^ Court En 
from which Mary saw her kingdom and crown dashed i 
fell swoop for ever firom her grasp. It is indeed a 1 
and from its associations a deeply interesting scene. I 
th^ author of the " Clyde" beautifully says, — 

**Here, when the moon rides dimly through the sky, 
The peasant sees broad dancing standards fly ; 
And one bright female form, with sword and crown. 
Still gTlevm to view her banners beaten down.** 

The fine woods and pleasure-grounds of Aikenhead : 
vicinity, also contribute considerably to the beauty 
landscape as seen from this point. 

After lingering here for some time, we take our way 
hill, towards the church. This edifice, which was erec 
1831, on the site of an old barnlike structure which vi 
remember, is an elegant building in the modem Gothii 
of architecture. It is surrounded by a fine burial-g 
quiet and secluded, where beneath the flickering shad 
several umbrageous old ash trees *^ the rude forefathers 
hamlet sleep." The pensive rambler may here spend 
fitable hour, as many a time and oft in bygone days w( 
in meditation among the tombs. Many of the heac 
are well worthy the attention of those who love to stu 
doleful literature of the dead. Among the more rema 
of these is one that marks the grave wherein are inten 
ashes of three individuala, wlno suSetedi si. n\c\<&\3\> ^ 

fl&TraOABT A>'D LAXC31D&. 105 

llieir adherence to the principles of the Solemn League »ud 
'Covenant, in tlie days when ClaverLouse and his troopers 
mil rongh -shod over the oonsoieaces of the Scottish people. 
I)' years ngo we remember enacting " Old Mortality" on 
l^ittioe, hy remoTing with our gully the moss which had 
•^itpt oTor it and almost obliterated the inscription. Since 
tresli application of the chisel has rendered it per- 
I'ctiy le^ble, bo that we should have had no difficulty in 
■'•'■iiscribilig it for onr readera, although it had been effaced 
memory — which, however, from the strong im- 
made on our youthful imagination, it haanot. It 
fbllowa ; — 

nl John Urio, 

"Ths tioody nmrderen of (faese men 
Were M^iMt B^Muur anU Captain Ualllana i 

Closed tiem to neuch Id Palmatlla 


*- 3he drcumatanceB of this tragedy are found briefly detailed 

« Wodrow's history. The njartyra were men of low degree, 

'J*W weavers and labourers. They resided in the village of 

•"We Govao (now removed), and they were drapiged from 

* cottages by the dragoons, and murdered in the imme- 

« fidnity. The scene of thc^ir death is directly oppodte 

Flcshara' Haagh of Glasgow Green. In another part of 

ground is a curiously carved old headstone, thickly 

^crusted with moss and lichens, yet in a tolerable stati 

adon. At each side of the base is a well-executed 

Immediately Oibove these are a group representing 

■* Snriour, witli a balance and scales in his hand, trampling 

' Death, from whose grizzly (owa B"5^t^n^a.^sw.'OT*3^ss; 

•U& -Ju tia udft of l\t4d&a\tiiD&w «.^^-^"o'^1 


106 CATHC 

Time, with sand-glasa and acjlbe, wbile belbve and bdniid 

the SBiioar m the winged form of aa angeL On tbenraw 

tide of the stone is the following brief inscripljon 

"Hers lla Itag corpi of Frindt Uniducli, Dean oC Guild si 
Bireli Hlh. 1721 ^laU.Ba.- 

We learn from tradition that Francia Murdoch tU 
drowned in the Cart, wliile on his way from Glaigow to Ajf ■ 
The river was then crossed h^ a ford, and a spate prerulisg 
at the time, the unfortunate gentleman was carried airajby 
the angry current, and thus perished. 

Churcb-yard poetry is seldom worth the perosal— tho 
simple green luound, withoat a line to tell whose dnst I> 
mouldering below, making a more eloquent appeal to thfl 
heart than the most elaborately sculptured monument or th*; 
moBt hinh-sounding epitaph. Tet we must say, that w!tfi»f 
luvBig'^tb eome difficulty brushed aside the long rant gl 
ilk read the following lines, we felt a thrill ai 
the lowly mansion at our feet were whispering the words ^ 
our shrinking ear, The inscriptiona are on a couple of 11* 
riQBea lying side by side, and covering the ashes of h 

Serations of a family named Hall, who resided when i 
at Cathcart Mill On the one stone, dated 1639, i 
inscribed — 

"Tinie> raidd etreiin we Itiink dnoB lUitid. 
WhUe OP It «-Bre blown down 
Ti> a YB«b tai, "hJch knavs no l«nd, 

Nor B'er a nhora wonld own; 
In which wo ihiU tot ever iwim, 
Blcil through otetnlty: 

On the other, which bears date of 1763, the following 

"A fosdeathldnot to the Jnst and flood. 
Tliouffh he ippBOrlo ILIA porter Tude; 
BU Mttafti] muKinr and frltmillr bnnd 
TawtauBfelr to lanmunel'i land; 
nien, with pan mb^ pLeaeiiiv to behold, 
Tiaion at heaven and bHsblDeiii of our LorJ, 
To whfeb aoDS entered In Waa tIeUi ct biin 
Bnt by the tato elane oTiigbteDiuneu, 
Hotofonr own, indeed, botafanoCber — 
The anointed Chili^ our ftienil and elder brather.~ 
"OUellbocel Dene noble hEcotlarodL'^Firv'^ 
"OHellbocail ■ God elTCi u tblt DanviMti.'' 

te little gotWo structure has recently been erected in 
Bleomer of the ground by Mr. Gordon of Aikenbead, one 
filift principal proprietors in the parish, as a family hurjing- 
wSi This, as well as many of the other " aermotu in 
Wie" of an humbler description, will ba found worthy of 
fflnrely and thoagbtful inspection.* 

ing tbe kirk-yard, and pasaing a handsome school, 
with the manse, is in the Immediate vicinity — tbe 
it other ediGcea of a similar description, being 
J pleasant habitation— we soon find ourselves on the 
tt of the murmuring Cart. The Btrea.m in this vicinity 
B its seaward way through banks of great benuty, thickh- 
and, above the village, of considerable altitude, 
■twerve the saud-piper, the saii<3- martin, and the elegant 
■tagtnfl playing about the margin of the waters, while 
V the foliage which overshadows their rippled breast b 
■id the mosic of many birds. Not the least sweet is the 
"1 of the yellowhammer, which at once, in association with 
6 (orrounding scenery, recalls to our mind the meraorjMf 
Pom who in other da3'fl rambled a happy boy on this ■very 
nik. ^e allude to Grahame, the author of the " SabbatU 
^0 in his youth lived for some time in this vicinity. In the 
"irdfl of Scotland " — a production of his genius which baa 
"ifa been an especial favourite of ours, although it bus 
ver attained anything like an extensive popularity — he gives 
Jescription of the first bird's nest which he ever discovered. 
* HMt was that of a yellowhammer, one of our loveliest 
'Ugh most conamon songsters, and the scene was the banks 
Cart, a short distance below the manse. The passage, 
our mind seems an exceedingly fine bit of word- 
is as follows: — 

preltv WH I tor -t-m thy npit 
jnhelpBd bj olilBreyM, I fuund. 

n lUletl] tr 

e Dum >ule ' 

Down lo Bij lidh <weet Cu 

A rugB of iXoiiu, bfllDV bbL- , 

■tutid Id tb* pUn tC Iba noir qianniai; sroli ; 
Up fram UiM tai > litUe IwHc there vu, 
wUII llder Dopm iiriit irlUan' DTergmwik, 

ThB UddeD prU^ ^wllbered flsld-stivra fofnuid, 
Wid IlHd wiai nuuiT B coll of bur and bum 
ADd la U Uld tin niil-valBed aplim*. I tlMUd. 
Tba SymniMD'i ntu did not aidtiD 
TlM gniid Bunka irtth mors nitfnnnajt™ 
Than at that mrawat dnttand ronnd mj bnaflL" 

Theaatlioroftlie "Pleasures of Hope," who IJke Gn 
was a Glasgow callnnt, also spent aome of liia h 
^outMil days at Cathcart. During vucntioDs he 
freqnent visitor nnii an occoBional resident for weeks h 
at the mflDse. Nor, indeed, do we know a Hpot whe 
fancy of a poet could have been more Gtly nursed, 
banks of the river and the siirrounding country 
varied beauty. The gently swelling hill or t 
mead — the shadowy wood where the ouahat loves 
the leaiy lano where the shilfa builds his nest — the i 
waterfall, or the torrent rippling through wild and 
hifcks — in short, all the choicest features of landacajl 
congregated in the vicinity; while the silent church' 
Bie old castle, and the battle-field of Langaidi 
natural beauty the deeper charm of sentimental e 
There can be no doabt that much of the fine imagei; 
which the poet afterwards adorned the productions 
heart-touching lyre, were gleaned by tbc wandering i 
boy from the green banks of Cart. After the lapse of 
years, during which he had achieved a 
und mingled with the loiticst in the laud, Campbell 
once more to gaze upon the scenery, which, 

he had so rapturouaiy enjoyed. He came to experiM 
disappointment which all must feel who, dreaming 
time and change, return to the haunts of other days. 
old amiJiar faces bad de^ttt^cd, b.-q4 ^tevi m tha glo 
sorrow, the landscape seemed Wat^r, ani^ie-^nT^ 

Ina brilliant tlian in days a' langsyne. Ho penoFil the 
Moving Hnes as an expression of bis feelings, and lefl the 

Tmt the msnaiog of peace wu [hn I 
"Now, tha •cenet of mr chHihood u: 
All penfllTE 1 vitM, and e^Eh td depa: 
Their flowets seeia to largui^h, thel: 

Hoirever it might seem to the tear-dimmed eye of the 

9^ leaf tmd fiower are as abundant and ua beaiidful 

id Cathcart iiovr as ever they were in the past. We 

mra the youthful botanist that he will find the steep 

b U and inuncdiately above the bridge, pecuharly lidi 

Bthe material of his study. Any one who has ever glanced 

to Hooker's Flora Snolica (the habitats given in which, 

temty remark, are the best of all indices to the beautiful 

I SoDtland that we know), must have observed numerous 

IS to localities in this neighbourhood, 
the village of Old Cnthcart is somewhat irregular and 
rttwed. It consists of some score or so of bouaes, mostly 
K-itoreyed, and with little patches of gurdea -ground 
"tlclied to them. Among these are a handsome farm- 
iing, a smithy ot cartnright establishment, a anuff-mill. 
In the neighbourhood on extensive paper tnanufactory. 
' kis two public-houses, one of which, that of Mr. Mitchell, 
U exceedingly neat and comfortiible little place of rest 

re&eshmoDt. The landlord is an amateur floiist, and 

1 inuJl garden plot, with its flower-beds and bee-hives, is 
perfect model of neatness ani \ii«Kfcj. Y'l. ywacNki-^cjawi- 

110 CAxacAitr A 

nitli " aJI tlie comforts of the Santinarket," find] 
cibarma of rural beauty luid quietude in its leafy I) 
A short distance above tie village, on a ateep* 
risea over the Cart, are the ruins of the caatla 
□eit proceed to visit. This Btructure, a nunsj (K| 
must at one period have possessed great value I 
security and Btrenj,'tli, The date of ita erecti) 
nnme of ita builder arc alike lost in a dark ant 
the days of Wallace and Bruce it was in the poBB 
Alan de Cathcort, who did good service in tl 
Scottish independence. From this individual I 
Earl of Cathcart ia lineally descended. About, 
of the sixteenth century, the barony and castle ( 
wore sold by the then posaesaor to the Lord of S> 
whose family it was transferred to the Blairs of B 
1801 it was purchased by the late Earl of Cath 
son, the present earl, is now its proprietor. Oa 
the castle, we find it to be one of those stubbon 
of the past which Bcem destined to bid an enduri 
alike to the war of the elements and of time. Bj 
nrement of our ataiT, we find its walls to be not I4 
feet in solid thickness. It is now rootless and d 
with the exception of a vault, wherein darkness 1 
Afisible by the light which enters at a narro* 
Here, probably, in "the good old times" when 
the land was the caprice of a lordling, the uiil 
who happened to displease then- feudal Buperioi 
secure until it might be found convement to diap< 
otherwise. This place has a damp cbamel-hi 
which speedily sends us into the sunshine again, 
bling tower is in some parla thickly mantled wi 
haunt of the starling and sparrow, while the swij 
nest and the wall-dower waves its golden floK 
loop-holes and window-places. From the caatla 
iSni' view of the vale of the Cart, with the nijdei 
d/* the fiunilj' in the foregcoimi, Kii5k «> yafeiA^ 

IMiage around nnd beyond. There are, indeed, soma exqui- 
itches of landscape in tliis vicinity, and we would 
ncnmnend tbe locality altogether to thu special attention oi' 
agow arljats, who, like otbers, are too apt to run 
bmlitime in their pursuit of the beautiliil. 
About a hundred yards or bo cost from the castle is the 
Court Knowe," where Queen Mary stood at the moat 
Oilical moment of her life. A tbom-tree which threw 
low over her, and was long called by her name, 
pew oo the spot until tie close of the last century, wliCD 
> fell intfl decay through age. An upright slab of atone, 
rude carving of the Scottish crown, and the letters 
. 35C8," now murk the spot. This intereeting me- 
of the beauteous being who in a past age ascended to 
— a queen with thousands of gallaut men at her com- 
-and ID one little hour thereafter descended from it a 
'•^Ifsa fugitive, has been appropriately shaded by a fine 
'•mp of trees. We find the speedwell, the king-eup, and 
*a forget-me-not blooming in beauty on the velvet turf 
"M had been dewed with the tears of royalty, and the 

« it indeed a lovely and a fitting place to muse on that 

■i*! ill-fated woman, whose memory ia insppavably linked 

* w many beauteous scones, and whose story ninst ever 

;*Weli the deepest sympathies of the pensive heart. The 

^^^ing Ban is bathing the landscape in mellow radiance 

'*^ we linger, and the wild birds are singing their vespers 

if misfortune and sorrow bad never flung their shadows 

^; but the winds are murmuring a plaintive melody 

"ing the trembling leaves, and showering around us the 

B gold of the laburnum, which is now becoming dim, 

if nature, entering into our feelings, meant to show the 

loescsnce of earthly glotj, T\tti WsSsR^Ye. ^J-t^ ttws- 


knowo, an excellent prospect of the battle-field of !<■■ 
side. The blue smoke of Cathcart ia aeen dose at ^ 
cnrling through the trees; beyond i» the church and' 
Bhadowy burying-pkce ; and in the distanne the Bpint 
Glasgov, relieved against the towering Kilpatrick hills. 
Descendbg from oor elevation, we cross the Cart 
the old bridge, a structure vfhich bears a conaidei 
semblance to the Brig o' Doon, and on the sides of ^ 
the botanist will find Eeveral beautiful though minute sf 
of femg. We then take our way to New Cathcait, a 
and tidy-looking little village, which lies about the tliii^ 
a mile to the west. It is of modem origin, and poEM 
but few features of interest. From thence, along a pleM 
country road, we pass by Millbrae to Langside. This B 
hamlet, nhich has been rendered remarkable by the ded 
skirmish which occurred in its viranity between the ti 
of Queen Mary and those of the Regent Murray, oi 
13th of May, 1568, ia finely situated nearly on the rid 
a long hill which lies al a little distance to the south-w< 
Glasgow. The story of the battle, with its antecedents 
ultimate conseqaences, is familiar to every student of 8 
tish history. Queen Mary on her escape from Lochlcri 
immediately, with the assistance of her friends, maiq 
whom were possessed of great influence, proceeded 
organize an army for the recovery of that power v 
while in captivity, she had been compelled formallji 
renounce. In a short period she found herself at 
head of a considerable body of troops. With these' 
was on her march from Hamilton to Dumbarton, 
she found herself intercepted by the vigilant and energ 
Regent, who having heard of her advance, pushed out | 
Glasgow with all the forces he could command, and took 
a favourable position at the village of Langside, M 
greater bravery then prudence Mary's parly resolved to' 
an engagement ; and while siio iptocetiled Vi tbe ^aitiol 
biive previously described, ber Woops al, oiu^ ^otww&. 'Qs 


r „. 

^^* gentle eminenca ndjoining that on which their oppooents 

T^ 'ere drawn up io battle array. Impatient of delay, the 

inexperienced infantry of the Queen rushed up the hill to 

tneait^t, but from the nnfavoiirabte nature of the groundi 

Mil lie superior numbers and discipline of the Regent's 

» •"«?>, after a brief but sanguinary struggle, they were 
Wpulsed, and by a dQcisivc charge of cavalry, which w.te 
^uUy directed against their flank at a critical moment, 
Uie^were inrolved in mestricable confusion, and uitimately 
irni lo complete rout. Nearly three hundred of the EoyaliatB, 
<' ii elated, fell on the field of battle, while four hundred 
"mmade prisoners. The losa of the Regent was trifling in 
ie. On returning to the city he caused thanks to 
publicly offered to the Deity for a victory which, on his 
almost bloodless ; and he rewarded the Corpora- 
TOnof Bakers, who had particularly distinguished themselves 
V llidr bravery on the occasion, by bestowing on them the 
'Mb of Partick, where their mills are now built. Poor 
'Itj, on seeing the overthrow of her friends, took to flight, 
^i, it is said, scarcely closed an eye until she arrived at 
"nndrennan Abbey in Galloway, nearly sixty miles from the 
W scene. By what route ahc arrived there wo cannot 
low tell, but several spots in onr vicinity are pointed out by 
'fsdilioa as marking the way she took. Between Cathcart 
"iii fiutherglen is a place called " Mai's Mire," where it is 
'«i ber horse almost stuck fast, in consequence of the mnddy 
I'WnreoftheaoiL On the aune hnc, but nearer Rutherglen, 
"^pUoe called the "Pants," it is said from the panting which 
W steed made while hurrying past. A little to the east of 
"''"i « a plaoe called " Din's Dykes," two felSowi who were 
Wlting hay lifted their scythea and threatened to take her 
"ptive. Some of her friends coming up, however, compelled 
"'' luymakers to clear the way, when she passed on; and 
•■neit hearof her in a Camb\iaW^j\.tB&."uOT\,'3L«^w^'^K«- 
%* a little below Cavmj\e, at a '(iXft.w a^fi^a. ■&«. '■'•'X'saS' 


Ford." Here we lose sight of her nntU, i 
lie close of the day, she i» found at Dundrenoan, « 
rhyming friend of ours puts the following wonlfl of la 
tion into Ler lips, which, sa appropriate to the oeoarii 
hitherto unpubliabed, we shall present to our readenl 

Deipair ■lone remtiia v/i 

Of noblot hearU— my prUe and s 
tMumplunt ttwian't burner flaiU 

But all signs of battle have long bean effaced 1 
fair brow of Langside ; and it ifl fervently to bo ho 
never again may the soil of our country be stained 
blood of brother fighting against brother, as on tl 
dnj^. The very spirit of peace indeed seems brood 
the scene aa we puss aloTig ihe ii\(ittaM«.tOi.. Tea 


plodding home in the gftthering gloaming from the Unls of 
thed&7. The soft rustle of the waidng grain is making sweet 
Banc to the pasmng i^ds, which have been wantomng 
throng the bloom of the bean, 

'^And tMtr tti fngnuit twaete alang.** 
The lark is leaving the sky, and seeking its mate on the 
gnusy lea ; while the bat comes flickering past, and the bugle 
of the '^ shardbome beetle '* is occasionally heard in the 
thickening air. This walk is indeed delicious. The prospect 
is extensive and beantifuL In the valley beneath, amid 
richly cultivated fields, the Cart is seen by glimpses winding 
its devious way; fiurther ofl^ and in various directions, the 
spires of Glasgow, Butherglen, and Cambuslang attract the 
^ of the spectator; while Cathcart, with its fine church, its 
picturesque cottages, and its old castle peeping over the trees, 
nestles sweetly on the green slopes below. 

The village or hamlet of Langside consists of some score 
or so of houses, principally one-storeyed cottages, clustering 
irregularly amidst patches of garden, and finely screened by 
^t and other trees. Like most other Scottish villages, it 
>eems to have been left in a great measure to ** hing as it 
grew,'* and consequently it possesses a picturesqueness of 
•spect to which our more regularly constructed modern 
towns are utter strangers. The majority of the inhabitants 
^ weavers, who manage to make ends meet better than the 
generality of their city brethren, by the cultivation, during 
spare hours, of their bits of kail-yard, the produce of which 
i^ds materially to the comfort of their families. Several of 
them are famous for the quality of their gooseberries, the 
excellence of which during July and August tempts numerous 
parties from the neighbouring city. We have not learned 
that anything beyond the general tradition regarding the 
battle, which is common over the country, has been preserved 
by the inhabitants of Langside. A neighbouring farmer, we 
are informed, has several times discovered old horse-shoes, 
hits oF bridles, and other relics, whUe\Aii9. \)sx& ^<^^ 


where the engagement took place; but beTonc 
Teatige of '^ what has been ** is now in exiatenoe.* 

** AH, an to quiet now, or <mhr heard 
like mellowed mannim of the dlataat aeiu** 

A walk of short duration from the field of batd 
safely into the artifidal day of the lamp-lighted si 

* The hin of LaB|(ride to in prooeas of being oorered hy oman 
and TlHaai Already the Glincart Knowe to crowned h^ » eoiq>le 
and even on the very apot where the contest occoned, » number 
been erected. Tbeae neat and comftnrtable lodUng domiciles « 
harmonize with the associations of the spot; whUe » public wi 
Jnst been planted in the batfn of the Cart, still more detracti fkv 


'^MillDBiTIKa, like individnals, are supposed to have their 

[wculuir idiosfccroaies ; and those nho are familiar with Ibe 

popular rb^cs and common sayings of Scotland, must be 

»"ire that s considerable portjou of these " old saws " are 

deroied to a description of the characteristics, rcul or 

;iii«ij, of the inhabitants of our various towns and 

pt. For Instance, we say the people of Ghisgow, the 

of Greenock, and the bodies of Paisley. The Merac, 

ordiDg to tha same authority, is fiimous fur its stnlwait 

Dankeld for its votaries of the wee drap; and Rdin- 

for ite loopy lawyers; while auld Ayr, as every 

er of Bums must admit, is unsurpassed 

■» la one town, however, which is siud, par exceUence, 

M productive of " queer folk." This town, as everybody 

lie West of Scothuid well knows, b Pollokshaws, or "the 

Wt," as in common parlance it is generally called. How 

Haying originated we cannot for the life of us surmise, 

U boa long been quite proverbial — a very household word, 

iliet; and just on the same principle that we glowered in 

wptdi of boonie lasses on our Iirst visit to Ayr, did we keep 

*HUup look-out for outre specimens of humanity when we 

"'M passed through Pollokshawa. Disappointment, we need 

''ttrdly remark, in both cases attended our inspection. The 

'*>r maids of Ayr, with all due deference to Bums, who, 

"f-lhe-by, was said to be no great authority on the subject 

lale loveliness, we found to be '^ yaS. "cJia '*k«x.^s&-" 

iLe special queerneSB ot lie ■tdisMaa.-ft^ -sj«i^'s5i. 


not strike us as being particularly ob^ous. There are dot 
less bonnie lasses in the one town and queer folk in 
other, just as there are everywhere else; but we nl 
suspect there is in neither case more than the due proporti 
<^ Old saws and modem instances/* it would therefore se 
do not in all cases quite accord with each other. 

Crossing the Clyde by the elegant and spacious Biooi 

law bridge, and passing along Bridge Street, Eglinton Sti 

and past the front of the Cavalry Barracks, now desertei 

its gay cavaliers,* we soon arrive outside the boundsiie 

the dty. A walk of a mile or so farther— during wlud 

pass on the right, Muirhouses, a row of one-storeyed 

thatched edifices, and at a short dbtance to the left, 

hamlet of Butterbiggins — brings us to a little village ^ 

rejoices in the somewhat unmusical appellation of Sti 

bungo. There is nothing particularly attractive or w( 

of attention about this tiny little congregation of ho 

With the exception of the church, a small and neat but 

specimen of ecclesiastical architecture, the houses are fc 

most part humble one or two-storeyed buildings, inha 

principally by weavers, miners, and other descriptio 

operatives. There are, of course, several public-hous 

the village ; and those who have an eye to the fine ar 

manifested on sign-boards, will be amused, if not delig 

with a unique head of Bums, which is suspended ove 

entrance to one of them, with a barefaced quotation in ] 

of whisky attached to it by way of pendant. There 

mistaking the double-breasted waistcoat of the poet ; 

once stamps the man. The management of this portion ' 

drapery is indeed a master-stroke of the artist, as othe 

it might have been somewhat difficult to recognize i 

goggle eyes, flabby cheeks, and ridiculously mim mouti 

features of the burly ploughman. Painters now-a-dayj 

the failing is not by any means confined to those of the '. 

* 5tfoce tbiB waa written, the eatalaiWahmeivt \i«a 'b^xi cqtcc^^icNjqA. \ 
J*oorboaae of the Goyan Pariah. 


Tinhi Eohool, have got such a habit of idealizing their por- 
I^Wti, that it has rcallj' become perfectly impossible to 
recoguiEe even one's most indmate (Henda on canvas. Tlie 
flattery tluit the honest mirror fails to give may be purchflsed 
it uy time Irom the venal p&lette, Sint^e the advent of 
'^ and Spnrzheim, foreheads under the bands of the 
liinnen have gradually been expanding in their proportions, 
lib the bcad-dressea of the ladieain the reign of good Queen 
Anne. Tomkina is represented with the "front of Jove;" 
ihile the jotly conntennnce of Soooks, to please bis senti- 
nicEtal better-half, ia " toned down," as the phrase is, to the 
'"pileeast of thonght," until he resembles more the hidf- 
slirved Hamlet of a strolling company than his own plump 
Wil (juud-natured selt' Whatever faults, however, the sign- 
fcowil portrait above mentioned itxiy have — and it must be 
*^llcd, we are Mraid, that it ia not quite a perfect work 
°rnt— no one can at least accuse the artist of the slightest 
'sudency to tbe " reigning vice" of hia profcsaion. Want of 
"ill ur want of power has given him tbe solitary merit of 
^6 aa absolute stranger to flattery. Strange as it may 
■o-in, Strathbungo has also its poet. In Blackie's Book 0/ 
*W!iii Song there is an clTusion, not devoid of merit either, 
■<Ui>eMed to a certain bonnie Jean Trho flourished in this 
antoulh-named locality. Lest there should be any doubt on 
''le mutter, however, we shall take the liberty of giving a 
""pie of the production ; — 

^^B Tn mj miBet mold, Strubtinnga JuitL 

^H "Ttio- the; be dreued in rlcb DttLre, 

^H Wl"tiu^ andpid ndllTu^ eur>, 

^^V this, who shall say what the lyrical muae may not do 
^Ecclefechan or Tdlicoultry! 

Wvmg Strathbungo, apleaaont'viBl't litsii'SiS.^KiK-'i.-^sS*. 
'"np us to another ViUage uot \w& -u&wiiijafiii Tpiyi-&i*>. 

with a, name. Thia is Croasmyloof^ a finelj 
hamlet, composed principally of pl:iia and ' 
honses, ranged on both mdes of the highway, 
chiefly by familiea of the operalive clau. 
number of the humble edifices, bonerer, haye 
attached to them for the cQltivalion of kitcbd 
and it is wull known that bott here and at 
many of the handloom weavers are celebratei 
tulips, pansjes, dahlias, and other floricnltun 
Florist cluhs, also, exist among them, which a 
for the exanunation of choice flowers, and fbr < 
beat means of rearing them t« perfection. We 
pleasure, at various periods, of couverang n" 
these bloom worshippers — for sooh, in troth, thej 
must admit that we were fairly astounded at tl 
charms wbich they could discover and point 
seemed to our obtuse visual organs a simple ti 
We could not help, indeed, comparing o 
their company, to Wordaworth's "Feter Bell," 
was said, — 

What a different aSair was a primrose or 
CroBsmyloof friends I It was indeed "a great 
than it seemed to the uninitiated. There arai 
sighted people who are said to see farther in 
than their neighbours. For the troth of the si 
not venture to vouch ; but most assnredly, for si 
mysteries of a tulip or a dahlia, ne shall back a 
or Strabungo weaver against the united amateurs t 
After all, however, there is something very a 
such individuals in their enthusiastic love of Sd 
know not, indeed, how a working man could apeni 
hours more harmlessly or pleasantly, than 
of a little flower-plot. In towns such a priTileg 
the r«ach of the operniive ■, t\rt vn au\a\«'o«tt 4 



rurjl vUlsgEB, it is exceedingly gratifjing to witness the 
"unifegtalioiis of such a taste. 

He singular name oF " Croasmyloof " m accounted for by 
1 popular myth which b yet currant in the surrounding 
wimtTT. It is said that, immediately before tlie battle of 
Ungside, the forces of Qoeen Mary were drawn up on tbo 
tt of the village. A council of nnr was meanwhile held, at 
IS debated whether they should, under the circum- 
n which they were placed, risk a collision with the 
if the Begent. The Queen, always impetuous, was 
1 attack should at once be made. From this 
ID sevuraJ of her adherents attempted to dissuade her, 
,o her the advantagas likely to result from delay. 
"ftA nt last of their importunities, and eager to decide her 
tulii. the Qoeen puUed an ebony crucifin from her breast, and 
■I'd it on her snowy palm, saying, at the same time, "As 
Wly aa that cross lies on my loof, I will tliis day fight the 
From this circumstance, it is said, the spot 
9 name. It is rather unfoi-tunate for the credibility 
f tk legend, however, that Queen Mary's troops nera 
t a considerable distance to the eastward of this 
llTty, having been effectually intercepted by their op- 
ts at the village of Langside, while they were advancing 
pM direction. Tradition in this, as in other instances that 
U be mentioned, has taken sad liberties with geography. 
is « pretty one, nevertheless, and will continue, wo 
;o obtain credence .it the winter evening bearth, in 
fcof the sneers of the prying student of history. 
k little to the north'east of Crossmyloof, ou a green hill< 
in the enclosures of Neale Thomson, Esq. of Catnphill, 
, B tlie vestiges of an ancient British camp. Passing through 
™fine grounds of Mr. Thomson, which are kept in the most 
•'•gsnt and taaleftil order, we now proceed to inspect this Jn- 
*ting relic of other days. It occupies iho entire crown of 
ee, and is apwarfaof B.b^ffi4It4-JKt4■i\■^*i.■K!t.^y™- 
^> PaUum, or wall, allliougV ti«dj\| dsSiS,«cv.\.wi. ">». isswa 


places, is j'et in a saffident stnte of preservation to 
extent and form wMcli it originally preseDted. Al 
tremitj there is an elevated platfarm, or daia, 
Buppoied to Lave been tlio situation occupied by tlie I 
the commander, or chief of the partf, who, in a long vf 
century, held possession of this conuuaiiding height, 
this spot u delightful and wide'Bpreading prospect a 
surrounding country :s obtained. Towards the n 
east is the vaat strath of Clyde, bounded on the right ] 
sylvan heights of Cathkin and the verdant slopes of Dych 
and on the left by the picturesque Campsie and Kilp 
ranges ; while stretching far away in front is a lengCl 
series of fertile fields and gentle undulations, staddedi 
tovraa, villages, mansions, and farm-steadiogs, and boi 
in the exCreoie distance by the misty Pentlands. 
directions the views are almost equally extensive 
including, within their scope, Neilston Pad, Ballygeiel 
the Bong-hflllowed " braes o' Gleniffer-" The interior i 
camp is thickly planted with trees, the foliage i 
a delicious shade in the glowbg summer or autumnal: 
when, in the words of Tennyson, all around is sc 
"Tlie JaD(l3CAT>eiKiiiklne thtoaeTi the litat." 
After lingering in the leafy shadows of the lonely camp 
brief space, gazing on its sights of beauty, and dreand 
the warriors fierce and rude who, in the olden time, p 
Its precincts, we descend from our elevation, and p 
ihe spacious and handsome mansion of Mr, Thomson, 
our exit from the grounds. 

It is said that tbere is but a sEiort distance h 
sublime and the ridiculous. There is certainly but a 
Irom the sentimental to the commonplace, as we 
resist muttering to ourselves, when a few minute 
leaving the camp and musing on its bygone glor 
Sud ourselves in the immense Bakery of Crossniyloo 
speeiing with interest the manufacture of q 


Dill b (be queen's dominions, is the property of Mr. Thom- 
100 of Campiiill, by whom it was erected in 1347, for 
W purpose of supplying the city of Glasgow with bread 
Boilir in quality to that used io London. Commencing 
i a, Eifiall scale, the increasing demand hts 
itdnally necosfiitBteil an extension of the premises, until 
> tile present time operations are carried on in four large 
tehoiiws, fitted up with every requisite convenience for 
tviog deanlineas and expedition. There are no less than 
Wily-Ms ovens generally at work, attended by fi^m forty- 
t to lixty bakers, as the demand increases or diminishes. 
■Woubcr of other hands also are constantly employed 
Bibsidiary operations, such aa preparing the yenst, which 
i the premises, removing and packing the bread, 
a no fewer than six large vans are constantly 
8>eed carrying the loaves as they are prepared to the 
ntiate city, and distributing them amongst the various 
Some idea may be formed of tlie extent of this 
luster baking manufactory when we mention, that it 
piires not less than five hundred sacks of flour on the 
«nge weekly, out of which it turns from 40,000 to 43,000 
■Rem loaves. Mr. Dalgetty, the active and intelligent 
Wger, obligingly conducted us over the establishment, 
{dlining the various processes through which the flour 
isa ere its final transformation into the wholesome 
if life." Cleanliness, order, and neatness, pervade 
*? department | and we must admit that we have seldom 
curious or cheerful sight than we witnessed in 
* of theie lengthened and spacious bakehouses, where 
Wy well-powdered operatives are busily engaged tUump- 
[ pelting, turning, cutting, weighing, and kneading 
le masses of plastic dough, which, in their experienced 
^^^ >, rapidly assumes the requisite form and consistency. 
Mking leave of our ft-lend, Mr. Dalgetty, w 
Mnnyloof, and wend out wa^- tewwia ■^StSN^iioss 
fci a Bitiiated about a tniW Vo Oaa so-i'Oa's^'^- *^ 

m I 




point the road divergeB, one branch leading to Kilmiirnoiii I 
by Meums ; tliQ other to Barrhead and Neilaton, by Fol-fl 
lokshuwB, The country id the vicinity is beautiful in 
extreme, anil within tie last few yeara a large numbWO^ 
fine villas have been erected in the neighbourhood, 
miijority of tlieae have gardens and elegant flower-pl 
altauhed to them, and Bltogother the locality bus a 
pleasing and attractive appearance. The walk frwn Cro»'H 
ffiyloof to PolloksbawB is of the most pleasant dcMripto 
On either hand are wide-spreading and fertile fields, t« 
at intervals with patches and belts of planting, farm-hoiut 
and gentleroen'n seats. About half the distance it is up hiHil 
but afterwards it gradually declines towards the holloa u 
which, on the banks of the Carl, here a considerable si 
the town is situated. 

PoUokshaws is a tidy and thriving little town, Homcwl 
irregular in appearance, and containbg a population 
about 5,00D iudividuale. An ajr of bustle and life fthoa 
its streets, (broisbos a perfect contrast to the dullnesi 
languor which generally prevail in towns of similar e 
in the rural districts. There are a number of esteonf 
establishments for spinning, weaving, and dyeing, withia it 
precincts, wbidi furnish employment for the greater '^ 
of its inhabitants, the residue being principally haudloo 

ra, and agricultural labourers. CaBco-pr 
ing was also at one period carried on here to a conaideraM 
estcnt ; but of late years, we understand, this department d 
trade has been, in a great measure, if not altogether discon 
tinued. The tnbabitante have the usual characteristicg of j 

ufacturing population. There is the common prepofl 
dernnce of pale faces and emaciated forma, accompanied w" ' 
I of intellect which manifests itself in diver 
Mf.^digiouB and political opinion. Every sbade of politic! 
, indeed, finds here its own little knot of adherents; 
I the fact that ^ere are not fewer then n 
"■ o/" irorsJiip, great and small, suiEcienlly indicates tl 



tnrielj of points from whicii tte great queatioo is contem- 
\mtei, The precise number of schools wliich are in Ifae 
e have not Itiurned, but we understand that this 
ixporlaiit department of souiitl improvement has not been 
II]' SB^ means neglected ; while an extensive pabllc library 
fnrnishe) the neceESarj intellectoal pabulum for the studious 
pwlion of the adult population. 

I was ereeted into a burgh of barouy by a charter 
from the Crown in 1814, the civic affairs of the community 
bdig managed by a provost, bailje, and six counciliors, with 
a town-eltrk and GscaL The magistrates and council are 
id by popular suSrage, every householder paying a 
in amount of rent possessing the privilege of voting. 
Utny of our readers will be interested, we doubt not, to 
n that a natural daughter of the Ayrshire bard has been 
Br nuiy years resident in Pollohshawa. This individual is 
■In. Iliamson (Elizabeth Burns), the wife of a decent and 
btelligeut handloom weaver of the town. Id features and 
DinplesioD Mrs. Thomson admittedly bearg a more striking 
KKublance to her father than any of his other children. 
^t have had the pleasure of meeting mth two of the poet's 
n both of whom the paternal stamp was obvious ; but 
-■e more forcibly reminded of the family lineameatg as 
•(pfwented in the best portraits, on being introduced to 
■In. Thomson, than we were on that occasion. She la now 
If well advanced in years, being rather over sixty; her 
"tflres are consequently somewhat shrunk from their origi- 
■1 proportions, but sUll the likeness is sufbciently marked to 

It a glance, her relationship to the di<partcd bard. 
"Ole mother of Mrs. Thomson was Anno Hyslop, of the 
'lobe Tavern at Dumfries. Slie was the heroine of the 
fttital song, 

rbonuon never knew Wx movVeis'QMV**^^'^'*'''^''*^ 


^ found a kind and sfTectiQiiate substitute 1 
f After reraBinirig for two or throe yesre at nuree 
burgh, the iras laken to ber father's home in '. 
nhere she waa brought up along with his other 
She has aome faint recollections of her father, nho 
occaaionallf to take her on bis knee and fondle ber 
ately; and ebe reniemhers vividly the imposing ce 
attendant on his death and Aineral. After the poet 
she continued to live vrith Mrs. Burns, of whom 
speaks under the endearing appellation of mother, 
marriage with Mr. Thomson, wbo was then as 
located witb his corps in Dumfries, The wedding 
brated in the house and under the auspices of t 
kind-hearted widovr, who afterwards, even until ll 
her death, continued occasionally to manifest her i 
Mrs. Thomson by sending her small presents, ace 
by affectionate inquiries after her welfare. 

Mrs. IhoniaoD ia now tbe Diothcr of a coDSidera 
of grown-up sons and daughters, several of wtion 
obvious resemblance to their celebrated grandfatl 
second son, Robert Bums Thomson, is especially tfa 
terfeit presentment" of Um whose name he bears 
indeed, a living Jac-simile in physical appesrancf 
Burns must have been when in the prime of man! 
degree more slender in person, or a shade more (u 
plexion, from the nature of his employment, be pos 
be ; hut this, we feel confident, is the extent of c 
Nor is the rescmblnnce only physE>:al. He has 
siderable measure the same vigorous intellect, ani 
not rude humour, combined witb a manly sense of 
dence, and a taste for poetry and music, in both 
arts he is indeed no muun proficient. Altogetbi 
admitted by all who have the privilege of his acqi 
to be an excellent specimen of the honest, upri 
iitt diistnoas working man. We'knQin\o\,\,Wt,oi\t 
^^P could beatow upon bim a moce ^luaB^A« i^aia 


1 ia of course proud of bis deacent. but he hia not 
: digtsnt desire that hia " bonnet should be hung on 
flfatber's pin." He would be respected for Lis own 
not at all ; and we can assure those who would 
\vee ioto his company, for the mere gratiCea- 
n empty curioaitj that they will stand a pretty con- 
cbance of finding out what it is to be " taken 
the whins." 

f[h he makes no pretension to the character of a 
bert Bums Thomson, as we have already hinted, 
ore than one occasion, tried his hand at poetic 
in, Some of our readers, we dare say, would like 
mple of vei^a from the pea of one who stands in 
>n of grandson to our great national poet ; and at 
Of being deemed guilty of a breach of tonfideace, 
t refrain from contributing to tlieir gratification, 
r production of hia at present in our poasesaion, 
of considerable merit, is by far too lengthy tor 
its entire form in our limited space ; but wo 
tore, Devcrtheleas, to extract a few detached stanzas 
ke^rging the author's pardon at the same time for 
f which we are taking. Tlie composition, we may 
an elegy on an old military musician, who is 
, after having passed unhurt through manifold 
tiy flood and Celd, as having been nt last killed 
impting " some thrawn bars that wadna spell.'' 
»er several pithy verses invocatory of 
Mt exclaiming, 

"Tb iraHwlfo liViocki priao nf Spring, 

Whii <p«l ih« lift on aowj >rine, 

WIUIeTti ihe Iiri SB pcnitunt blag 


' Lament tlU mODntiln EOioea ring 

" Anrt y« wla lunnl lh« lomfj iprnj, 


■ r ■ 

Not altogether unworthy the "old man," we should fl^t 
but we mast take another leap over some seven oreigfaft 
stanzas, and leaving the tender, try what our author can 
exhibit of sterner stuff,— 

" Moarn ye, wha lift the dailr shillln*. 
Imperial pay for brither-killin\ 
For Jock, when hat a hanflins callan, 

Left frien'8 and hame^ 
And ower the stormy seas fi^ed saiUn* 

To fecht for fame. 

** In dark Tonlonse he met the Franks. 
Where biting bullets thinn'd our ranks, 
And worthy chieis of heads and i^anlcs 

Were rudely shorn, 
There banldly first he cheered the ranks 

Wr fife and horn. 

" lie damb the tow*ring Pyrenees, 
Where frosts *neath smiles of summer freeze, 
And through the mirk, on hands and knees, 

'Thont star or moon. 
The foemen's tents he set ableeze, 

To llcht him doon. 

*' See halfway np Sebastian's wa's, 
Tho' death rax doon wi' drippin daws, 
His left arm round the steps he thraws. 

His right the horn. 
And, charge them hamel he loudly blaws 

To the hope forlorn. 

" Ay, mony a fearfh* siege and storm. 
In mony a clime baith cauld and warm, 
Tho' death and him's been arm in arm 

The maist o's life. 
Yet ne'er till now he durst him barm 
Wi' dirk or knife." 

But we must refrain. Suffice it to say, that honest John 
turns out, after all, to be both hale and well, and that the 
elegy is fortunately only " a false alarm." We shall leave 
it to our readers to decide whether the scion is altogether 
worthy of the noble stem from which it sprung. We have 
our own opinion; but where friendship holds the balance 
it may well be doubted whether strict justice is administered. 
The church of FoUokshaws, or Eastwood, as the parish is 
sometimes called, is situated on a rising ground at the south- 
eastern extremity of the town. It is a plain quadrangular 
edifice of somewhat limited extent, and calls for no particular 
attention £rom the pasang stranger. The chuTch-'^'axd \& 


tttoated about a mile to the southward, near the site of a 
more ancient church, which was demolished on the erection 
of the present structure. Towards this spot we now proceed, 
pining on our way the fine old mansion of Auldhouse, at 
present the re&dence of Walter Crum, Esq., of Thomlic- 
banL It is beaudfuUy situated on the margin of AuldhouM; 
bnni, a little streamlet that joins the Cart at a short distance 
to the northward. The building, which is of considerable 
extent, is, we understand, the property of Sir John Maxwell 
of PoUok, in the possession of whose family it has been for 
Bunjr years. It has certain architectural features worthy the 
Attention of the antiquary; while the handsome old trees by 
vhicfa it is surrounded, and especially a couple of magnificent 
tod tall specimens of the Spanish chestnut in the garden, 
^ be found peculiarly attractive to those who delight in 
the study of sylvan beauty. A brief but pleasant walk brings 
w to the " Auld kirk-yard," in the vicinity of which is a cosie 
ind comfortable looking manse. We find the field of graves, 
vhich is protected firom human intrusion by a high wall and 
a well-locked gate, tenanted by a flock of sheep, which seem 
particiilarly to enjoy the long rank herbage. They manifest 
considerable wildness, moreover, and scamper about over 
green mound and flat stone, as if they were anything but 
Mcostomed to receive visitors. The church-yard of East- 
wood is of moderate extent, and is shaded at certain parts 
of its circumference by trees. Its only noticeable features 
we the burial place of the ancient family of the Maxwells of 
Pollok, and an elegant monumental structure recently erected 
to the memory of Wodrow the historian. The former is a 
square compartment enclosed by high walls of the plainest 
appearance. The place has a melancholy and rather 
neglected aspect. The sexton has piled a lot of old planks 
and mouldering coffins against one of the walls, and on 
peeping through the doorway we observe the interior to be 
crowded with loathsome and overgrown weeds. Accustomed 
as we are to the trim and tidy manner in w\uci\i t\i^ \i\maX.- 



■e generally 

admit that we feel mther surprised at the 
wliiuh ia here evinced, and we should retillj 
that the last resting-place of an old and ho 
would have been more carefully preserved fi 
of time and the elements. 

The Wodrow monument, which itanili 
centre of the burial -grotmd, is a HCmcturo 
elegance and laste, having beon executed by 
Mr. John Mossman, a genticmnn whose i 
much for the adornment of our local cemete] 
contributionB, from time to time, to our fine 
have been characterized by merit of no i 
On one side of the massive quadrangular pec 
ButeDuntcd by a finely cai'ved auperstmcta 
ID a Bepukhral urn, a the following inscriptio 

■■Erwttd (0 [ho memnryof (ho Riv. Kooeur Wor.n 
'le/eai'lsuOtoldtS. He died aiit March. 1731, Id iho 

The monument has been at one period sun 
excellent wire fence, but the woolly occupants < 
baying taken a fancy to rub themselves again 
have been bent and displaced, so that there is 
the animals now from scratching themselve 
Moasman's chaste and beautifol carvings. 

Robert Wodrow was born at Glasgow in t 
hia father, the Eev. James Wodrow, having 
period proresflor of diviuily in the Univer 
he WHS entered a atudent in the University 
city ; and, nftur a short period, in conse* 
extraordinary aptitude which he displayed for 
bibliographical researches, he was appointeii 
of librarian to that learned institution. Wh 
aCion, wifch he held for foivt -jeaxB, te *W 
greatest eamestneHS tbe eccVesiaaVvcti a\iOi 


native land. At the termination of liis acadei 
I be readed for some dme 'with hia kinsman, 
iJlofPoliok, then aoe of the Lords of Session. While 
It Follok, B, vQc&ncy occurred at Eastwood by the 
»f Mr. Matthew Crawford, author of a H'lsiory of the 
\of Scotland (which is yet, we believe, unpublished), 
r. Wodrow waa appointed, by the patronage of Sir 
bxwell, to the ministry of the patiah. Although at 
priod one of the smallest parishes in the West of 
d, Mr. Wodrow seems to have been contented with 
ktion, and continued to perform the duties of his call- 
t till his death, which, as has been already noticed, oc- 
in the thirty-first year of his ministry. Besides taking 
bent part in the public business of the Church, Mr. 
Ir composed a BUlory of the Sufferings of the CiMech 
kjidfrom thi Eeiloration to the Revolution, which waa 
id In two folio volumes, and several other works of a 
> and literary nature, all of which are deservedly 
])igh esteem. He seems also to have devoted a con- 
b portion of his leisure time to the study of anti- 
■nd natural history, George Crawfurd, a conteni- 
tnd friend of Wodrow'e, in his History of Renfrew' 
lentions a collection of fossil shells which he bad 
ind characterizes liim as " a gentleman well seen in 
aral history of the country." Altogether, the old 
r of Eastwood seems to have been a truly estimable 
(thy individual, an ornament to the Church to which 
nged, and a valuable as well as voluminous contri- 
o the literature of hia country. In Fox's History nf 
f part ofOie Reign of James the Second, that eminent 
V has passed a eulogium upon his fidelity and impat' 
m S historian ; while the esteem in which his memory 
nby the literary antiquaries of Scotland may be in- 
from the fact, that a Society under his name haa 
itablished in Edln\)ui^ toi &% ^\WaRS»f«>. bS. "^ 




roLLORsnA-Ka aicd its e 

A little to the south of the Eaatwood h 
a fine hollotr, mtiU^red by the AuldhoDsa bam, is 1. 
of Thomlicbank, with tlie extensive maDufavturing 
meot of the MeserE. Croiu, in whiuh the greater ] 
tht) inhabitants are employed. Tbe manufactore 
ig carried on here on an enlarged scale, the worki 
ing every process from the spinning of the raw m 
the finishing of the most beantilul dyed and piintc 
Walter Crum, Esq,, one of the leading partnei 
wealthy and enterprising firm, is well known as o 
inost eminent practical chemists of tbe present day. 

Retracing our steps to Pollokshaws, we now p 
of Sir John Maxwell, Bart., of PoUok 

luated in a delightful position, on the north ba 
Ci^t, B little to the south-west of tbe town. The ' 
spacious edifice, four storeys in height, and of tb 
HTohitectural appearance ; comfort and commo 
rather than ornaiuentnl ^ndeiir, having been 
attended to in its oonstnietlon, It was erected ii 
the greut -grandfather of tbe present posseBsoT, 
a f<*w weeks aller its completion. The castle ] 
occupied by tbe family, which stood a little to the 
was shortly afterwards entirely demolished, with tl 
tion of a small portion, apparently tbe remains of 
toner, which was pointed out to us, embedded in 
den-wall. The offices of the present mansion no 
the site of its more warlike predecessor. On an 
in tbe vicinity, which commands a munificent p 
the country for many miles around, a still older < 
merly stood. Not a vestige of this ancient strai 
mark its whereabouts. Desolation as 
haa fallen upon it as that predicted for hh own m 
lomas the Rhymer, when he said, in bitterness o1 
Tlie hMB iliall kllUe oo my hBurth-itMia." 

'bile we stand musing on t\ve a'po\,,*.\io itiSiceaa 
dreary autumnal eong on a a-ptciiOim^ \«*.'^ 


been planted on the site of the yanished towers, and we see 
the glossy plumage of the pheasant glancmg in the sunbeam, 
tt) disturbed by our presence, it glides away into the shade 
of the tangled underwood. Grawfurd, who wrote in 1710, 
oeotioDfl in his minute and curious History of Renfrewshire^ 
that m his day the remains of the drawbridge and fosse were 
Kill visible. 

The gardens and pleasure grounds of PoUok are on a 
princely scale of magnificence. The Cart, which is spanned 
hy an elegant bridge in the yicinity of the house, winds 
beautifully through the park, which is finely sprinkled with 
^p6 of wood and picturesque sylvan individualities (to 
Bake use of a Johnsonian phrase) every here and there 
Mandmg ^^ alone in their glory,'' and exhibiting to the 
pnctiaed eye the distinguishing peculiarities of their various 
■ptties. We have seldom, indeed, witnessed finer woodland 
Mies than are to be found in the spacious park of PoUok. 
^ Evelyn would have travelled a long summer day, and 
'^ckoned himself amply repaid for his labour, by the sight of 
* Angle group of wych-elms which grace the bank of the 
nver a little to the east of the mansion. TThese fine trees 
*^ described in Mr. Strutt's Sylva Britannica^ published 
^ 1826, a splendid but expensive work, the Scottish division 
of which was dedicated to Sir John, then Mr. Maxwell, 
younger, of PoUok. The principal member of the group was 
^''^fi&sured a number of years since for Mr. Loudon's work 
^ trees, and was found to be ninety feet in height, and four 
^ iu diameter at a yard and a-half fi:om the ground. Nor 
^ It only in modem times that the grounds of PoUok have 
oeen shadowed by sylvan giants. Several years ago an 
^mense trunk of oak was discovered in the bed of the Cart 
** this place. With great difficulty it was excavated from 
the graveUy bank, when it was found to be not less than 
twenty feet in circumference. This immense mass of primeval 
"'''^her has since been scooped oxjX,^ wA ^'ortxsjkR.^NsiSj^ vw'8«sssi.- 
^er-Louse, in which chaiact^t ^^ ws *\\. vo.^'^ ^3st^^^^^^ 


had the plensure of resting ourselves for a brief space in It) 
uapBcioua interior. 

The andent and hoDourable fumily of the MaxiTEDs pf 
PoDok, to whom the greater portion of tlie parish of El*' 
vood or Pollokahitws belongs, is descended from the Mn> 
wells of CnrluTerock, and has been located bere since tkl 
end of tho thirteenth century. An ancient document, S 
dtitB 1ST3, is still in existence, which bears the signatDHo 
"John Maxwell, Lord of Nether Pollok," the ancestor 
the present Sir John. The representatives of the fen^ 
have at TBrious periods taken .1 prominent position in tk 
hiatorv of the country. In the reign of Queen Mary S 
John Maxwell, who had been knighted hj that fair hntHl 
fated monarch, adhered faithfully to her cause through i 
her misfortunes. On the escape of Mary froni Lochlen 
and her flight to Hamilton, she sent a communication to f 
John, ordering hira to come to her aid mth hts friendj a 
servants. This royal missive is still carefiilly preserved < 
Pollok. It is as follows ; — 


" OIT Humyltun. ye V.'otUtilJ IMS. (Signed) MAiEm&l 

The summons -n-as obeyed, and Sir John and his frien 
were engaged on the losing side at the decisive skinni 
of Langside. A number of other papers of conaderal 
antiquity are preserved in the family archives, ai 
are a letter from James VI. to the Laird of Pollok, reque* 
ing provision for the Prince's baptism — a curi 
the times ; and the original of the Solemn League and CoTil 
nant, ivith the signatures of the King and Council, i~ 

After a lengthened and extremely pleasant stroll thronj 
^ie poJides and gardeaa o{ Pollok, we lotmii to ToWotaViMrt 


«, after a brief interval of rest, we proceed to visit the 
of Haggs Castle, which are situated about a mile to 
!St of the town. This ancient and time-worn edifice, 
to belt of trees, forms a fine feature in the landscape 
onsiderable distance around. In its *^ better days " it 
nbined architectural elegance with a degree of strength 
L17 to the security of its inmates 'in those *' good old 

when the strong hand was to an inconvenient extent 
f of l^e land. The walls are in some places upwards 
feet in thickness, while the durability of th^material 
:h they are composed is obvious from the excellent 
f preservation in which the carvings on their exterior 

still exist. Several vaults or chambers (we are 
I to say which) are still quite entire; in one of which, 
eastern gable, is an immense fire-place, redolent of 
ble associations, and which must have been capable of 
% at once a whole ox, supported by a couple of 
}, or a perfect host of minor culinary subjects. The 
las now a dark, dismal, and chilly appearance, as if 
tiany years must have elapsed since the cheerful blaze 
iited its capacious jaws, or the jagged flames roared 
Eit-haunted chimney. An elegant window and several 
arved ornaments still adorn the principal front of the 
Over the main doorway, on a triangular stone, 
8 an antique inscription, now almost illegible, from 
it appears that the castle was erected in 1585 by 
bn Maxwell and his spouse Margaret Conyi^^Jkim, 
gend is as follows: — 



£deb Stryxh 

Rrr FavsTRA Stbvis. 

Sib Johh Maxwell of Pollok ENiaHT 

Akd D. Maboabet Gomtmohak 


itin portion of thb inscription, from its arbitrary con- 
m and curious abbTeN\al^OTk!^^ \i^a \i^«o^ ^ *w«*&^ 
of controversy to t\i«> 3oT»)iJam Ci\^xi.^K:^ ^^ '^'^ 


neigbbourbood. Many and varioua bave been the k 
which have been suggested and contested mtb B 1 
peculiar to antiquarian diecusai on. The moat abstruse I| 
ings have been discovered and proclaimed mth flooii 
trumpet, but only to be denounced and ex[>loded bf thi 
of suceethng savanU. Kot being prepared -with a thi 
our owa, we shall, with due deference to more I 
authorities, give the most recent, and what seema 
non-profestiional intellect the most plausible transit 
which isfjjiat it is only a fandiiil rendering of the pal 
from FbuIius — " Unless the Lord build the house, thejl* 
in vain who build it." 

Concerning the history of this interesting edifice 
little ia known. It seems to bare been used ea a job 
house by the family of Pollok, and, indeed, was pr 
built for that purpose. During the time of the perw 
in Scotland it appears that the Knight of Pollok, 
belonged to the Covenanting party, occasionally cono 
within its walla the outlawed ministers who had been dl 
from their homes by fear of Claverhouae and his bloodtll 
myrmidons. Information was on one occasion lodged 
the Episcopal Archbishop of the district that eonTBH 
and prayer meetings were held at (he castle of Hagga a 
the auspices of ita proprietors; and Wodrow mention* 
in 1676 Air. Jamieaon, the ejected minister of Govan, " 
the Sacrament in the bouse of the Heggs, within two 
of Qlugow, along with another clergyman." The fani 
Pollok suffered severely for the attachment which they 
exhibited to the cause of de Covenant. By a decree of tn 
Privy Council, dated December 2, 1G84, a fine of £8,00O 
sterling was inflicted on Sir John Maswcll for the allegfli 
crime of receiving into his house and holding converse will> 
the nonconformist minietera. On refusing to pay tluB enor- 
mous sum — for such in those days it really waa — the worthy 
knight was condemned to imprisonment for sixteen niontlu< 

L22e TFortb^ iiaroueC aUuded to does not seem U. Viave ^jfl 

ron.oKsiiATrs axd its enviboss. 137 

nigniW this period, ns we find tbnt a Sir George Maxirell 
wtheLonl of Poltok in 1C88. This individual is known 
ilonl tradition as tbc benitclicd baronet. On one occo- 
H Sr Georgo was seized with a severe illness, and a» the 
«toBMuld do notliinj for him liia malady wna ascribed to 
ndictaft. Suspicion led to certninty- A young vagrant 
bnu having heard of the dread surmise, ondertook to 
It the offenders. Tbis slie iit once But about, and fo 
M Utonishmcnt of all, Eho accused several of the most 
WfKUiAB tenaots on the Follok estate. These parties she 
lipnvate reasons (or hating; and by cunningly at'creting 
m of cluy Etiick full of pins about thinr houses, and 
9 pretending to find them, she lent an air of pro- 
tyto her foul accusations, wbieh in those days were 
ent to consign her victims to the tar-barrel. A special 
«Buon was ordered by government to investigate the 
r, consisting of several Justiciary lords and the leading 
anen of Renfrewshire. The result was, that the charges 
IB finmd clearly proven, and no fewer than seven persons 
n aetually sentenced to be strangled and burned — a sen- 
which, however monsirous it may now appear, was 
idly carried into elTuct. Full details of this melancholy 
M may be found in a work entitled The Renfrewshire 
\t»; and still, as a clever modem ballad on the subject, 
p. Pater M' Arthur, states — 
"TliailDiylBi'ildb; IcEcndi Dill, 

How the bgitDIi blueil on the Gallnwffro 

Whan tliey Iiunn Ihe nitctm high ; 
And tlielrBDiDDldorlri^funnii ware piml; 

are bnppT to observe that the Sir John Maxwell of 
day, with praiseworthy taste, haa adopted measures for 
proper preservation of this fine old building. A dung- 
which a few years since stood in its vicinity, has been 
Oved, and certain portions rf \iw, -hsSb, -ri™&i -««wi 

with speedy proatcaV\on,\a.ic'\^w»-«-"t«»-'^™™**- 


and supported; while the entire buOding has been endoied 
and placed under the charge of an individoal who ii alvtyi 
ready to admit parties wishing to inspect it» bat ivbtM 
presence necessarily acts as a check on the wanton or eril' 

From Haggs, in a nortii-west ^rection« there is a fiiK 
country road, leading, by a farm-house, on a gentle bol 
commanding eminence, to the Glasgow and Paisley Gssil 
By this route we return to the dty, where we anive sons* 
where about that dubious hour, ^' betweoi the gloamm* lac 
the mirk," which calls the star into the sky, the bat into th 
air, and (bathos apart) the most useful of the trio, th 
lamplighter into the street. 


t people of Scotland nnquestionablj owe a deep debt of 
wda to their Covenanting forefathers; to those brave 
irho, in defiance of a persecuting government, nobly, 
ultimately with entire success, asserted tlicir right to 
Worship the God of their fathers according to the dictates of 
ther individual conaciencea. Narrow- mindedneas, bigotry, 
**1 lupflrstidon — the errors of the age in which they lived-*, 
to t certun extent, it may be admitted, existed among them ; 
bit it is unquestionable that it was to their stubborn and 
"Mg-eontinued resistance to the aggressions of a dissolute 
i OTBTbeuring court that we are, in a. great measure, 
d for the civil and religious liberty which, happily, 
e now privileged to enjoy. It has latterly become 
Dnable in certain literary curcles to underrate the char- 
B and services of these hardy and perhaps somewhat rude 
rsof spiritual freedom. Scott, iu his Old Mortality, 
r Tales of a Grandfather, has rendered them but a 
e of justice; while in the Lays of the Cava- 
a recent poetical publication of merit, the hearttesa 
nary, Claverhouse, and his merciless minions are ex- 
modcls of excellence; whereas rebel and traitor 
*•* the best names which the writer has to bestow on his 
^oviinanling countrymen. Blind loyalty to a crowned rake 
°oilsi it would seem, more favour with such parties than 
at and honest adherence to principle. It is satisfactory 
', however, that, despite these attempts to throw & 
poffabe sentiment around t\ie\T ^Maeii'i\;«t,'iife'csss™rfsri 
|e CoreosDters b still fresh «a4Mrf&a.«i"'»»^*«-'^'^*^**'* 


the Scottish people. Old Atortalitj is at rest yn& U 
fathers. The elink of the venerable man's renovntinghftiBiiil 
i« no longer henrd on tho lonely moor, or in tho gttt 
churuh-yard irhcre tho martyrs, nfter "life's fitful fava 
steep secure;" but the homely inscriptiona on thtir laoaiori 
stones are atill religiously preserved from the effacing infll 
eoces of time, nnd the Inle of their sufferings, their struggle 
und their triumphs, is still beard at the cottage' hearth, i 
the poet haa noil said, though 

"T)i« mmrljFrl bill 'i (OrBtm 

And theni bib intUErlnsc nov, Isule, 

To tinB the efnlnv pnlm ; 
TcC tin mn^trr'i mTi will rise, lamln. 

AbcHin the WJir^Dr'i cnlm. 

Among the hnutila of tho Covenanters there are fewwhil 
are more interealing, or which are more frequently vial 
than the lonely (arm-liouse of Lochgoin, Mluated in 
moorlands of Fenwiek, some fourteen or fifteen miles to 
MUth-west of Glasgow. In a pilgriin«ge 

to this humble and sequestered domicile, VfhJch we have 1( 
desired to visit, wo now entreat, in imagination, et least, 
company of our gentle readers. 

At an early hour on a fine morning of August we bid ad 
to the city, and proceed, by way of Cathcart, 
Englesbam. The newly arisen sun is shining brightly 
the Cathkin Braes, while 

is radiant with tinfs that might well " pale the ineffect 
fires" of the overly- vaunted Koh-i-noor; and the web» 
the field-«pider, spread on the green hedgerows, and beaT 
with the tears of the bygone night, would take the shine, 
have no doubt, out of Queen Isabell;L's much talked of, i 
richly begemmed pair of bracelets. Tlio luxuriant whi 
aperfoct wall of bread, with the first fainl ruaael, ^.vngBi 


fttving on the ftrlile fields, and contrasting 
weedy with the fresher verdure of the oat and the silkon 
"tii of the bearded here. The potato ridges are blooming 
iSif Buuh a, thing as the destructive aphis bad never existed; 
•Me the bean, not yet denuded of its flowers, lends a 
Wnq^d frftgrance to the passing winds. Every now and 
'gsii a country girl with her sour-niilb cart passes onward 
■0 (lie thirsty city ; or " gangrel bodies," such as wandering 
Jeilera in delf, packmen, and votaries of the gnberluucie 
fofeBsion, may be observed commencing their daily rounds 
UDODg the scattered farms and villages. It is really astonisb- 
inj to witness the numbers of these poor creatures who daily 
*lle from our wynds and vennels to pick up a precarions 
liinng beyond the police boundaries, partly by clmrity and 
(Wlf by the dispt>sal of some humble description of mer- 
ilwadise. One-half the world in reality does not know, and 
|«fbiipa does not much care, by what a variety of shifts the 
11^ half manages to gain ita meD^re subaiatcnce. 

At A distance of some five or six miles from Glasgow we 
"aa tie villages of Clarkston and Busby ; the former a small 
lUilei of houses eiluated at the junction of four roadg, one 
if which was formerly the way from our city to Kilmarnock. 
Ibb formation of the new line by Pollokshaws and Nevrton 
'f Mearns has, however, long diverted the traffic from this 
*)D1& There is nothing of particular note in or about the 
''Utge to interest or attract the nimbler. Busby lies a short 
^"tmco to the east, on tbo banks of the Cart, which are 
'Ere of ibe most picturesque description. Jt is of consider- 
% extent, the population being upwards of one thousand 
" number, and printipnlly engaged in manufacturing opera- 
lODi. At the north end of the village, in a deep ravine, is 
1 extensive cotton^spinning establishment, belonging to 
Messrs. Crum & Co.; while about hidf-a-milQ farther up the 
tresni are the printworks of Messrs. Inglis & Wakefield. 
i» houees in the vllliige ate genetaW^ cS ■e. tsQ.'^^mOT (isoKi^j- 
fe and the place aUog,ellict taa & lao^^sK*-*^^ ■ss.^^-t&.-i 


ere are also b3 

uppenrnnce. Ttere is a haDdsome dissenting n 
in the vicinitj, and ne understaad that ther 
leminariea fbr tlia education of the rising generation. Bf 
singularly enough, aeema to form the junction -point of j 
paiishra, part of it being situated in I^leams, part iai 
Kilbride, and a portion in Carmunnock, the cburch of 4 
being tlie most convenient, is generally uttended bj 
aection of the inhabitants vha adhere to the naUonol I 
blishment. The country around Busby is of the) 
beautiful description, being composed of gentle pii 
undulations and fertile alopes, while the st«ep windingj 
of the Cart, with their rich garniture of woods, [MJ 
many scenes which might well please the eye of the pi 
the painter. ' 

Leaving Busby and proceeding to the southward, I 
diatnnce of about a mile, according to our reckonjq 
arrive at Waterfoot, where, the Earn, a fine stream ' 
comes meat;<lering westward from the Mearna Moor, 
the Cart. A more lovely spot than that in which the- 
of the Cart and the Earn is thus consummated it wm 
difficult indeed to imagine. With Moore we migh! 

but brightness is not, by any means, a characteristic of 
stream. They are both wanderers of the noon, with' 
brown tinge in their bosoms that soggests ideas of 
amber, or a pretty strong infusion often. Immediatel] 
the " meeting of the waters," they tumble lovingly toj 
down a rocky steep that chuma them into a foamy I 
Dess, which rivals in fairness the breasts of the dueb 
geese that are swimming gracefully about in tho di 
eddies. There are broken grounds and trees, and otS 
and bridges, and an old mill, with picturesque wheel, I 
Hbo'Jt in that beautiful confusion. ■«\i\t\i \,\ie wrtiat, ao i 
iovce, jind whieb he so ollen truiii^iiva \q \iia t^nt'a^ 


h the verj sort of place, in short, where s langsyne poet 
bnld kave expected to meet a water -kelpie, and where a 
a Bflturaliflt, wilh greater probability of success, we 
r, would linger locitigly in the hope of diBCorering 
ly water-oiizeL 
e Earn, (what ii sweet name !) as some of our readers 
I 'iU perhaps remember, was the stream of Ihe celebrated 
I Christoplier North's boyhood. On its banks he first donned 
orld-famous sporting -jacket. While living in the 
Mrams m-inse, as he did for BCTeral happy years, he could 
tlraosl hear Its murmuring Toice in his bed-chamber, invit- 
11J him to its margin ; " full many a time and oft," we need 
noi doubt, he listened to the call of the charmer, and leaving 
^'"ii and bookish carcii behind, stole forth, a truant Izaak 
" 'illon, to angle for the rich red-speckled trout in its brown 
"Wers. The lonely angler catches more than fish. He may 
iKit fill his creel, but he can hardly avoid filling his soul with 
•"Mt memories. A bum-side is indeed " a joy for ever." 

'''J"! we feel persuailed that even the most prosaic of mo 
•«•. if put on a proper regimen of burn-side wandering, 
"'ghl, by the benign influence of the " cold water cure," ba 
'*iifonued, if not into a veritable poet— for it seems he is 
Mffl, not made — et IcLut into a something infinitely superior 
tcthe mere worldling 

But we must for the present bid adieu to the Earn and 

PWCeed on our way to Eaglesham. We shall again 

"8 stream, however, and find it nursing another genias, 

■•hose name abo our country will "not willingly let die." 

^"aa Waterfoot to Eaglesham— a distance of some three j 

•ilea — tie country becomes by gentle degrees more elevated. 

_ 3w road, which is straight almost as an arrow's flight, c 

^Rli^nently presents what, in l\ie Xa.ii^^'i'ys ^1 ^■*' "" 

^^■Bwniaated "a pretty Btcep £(B.a\ciA." K ^aa^'^^ ■^■*J 



in tiie proiitactive capnbilitiea of the soil ia also olisei 
here M tbe rambler passes along. Front t, ricbly aj 
taral, it grBduully asaumes a deudedly pastoral chui 
Tbe yellowing wbcat dbappeara allogelber, and we 
insMad a predominance of nomenbat eoliUlookinx p. 
lands, relieved, at considerable intervals, with patches of 
barley, and potatoes — the former much greener and ti 
than in the warm lowlands which we urc leaving behinil. 1 
straight road is seldom much to our lining; but, attbog| 
somewhat stiff, the walk from Waterfoot to Eaglesl 
really one of a very pleasant descriplion. The wayis&tnfl 
on either side by some of our sweetest wild flowers, nI 
tbe surface of the country ia of a fine undulating nature, n 
every here aud there apicturesquefarm-titeadingsuminnfl 
-with its straggling belt of trees. It is somewhat provo 
however, to tbe sentimental traveller, while he is thus hedj 
into a right onward path, to see tbe Cart, a little ti 
of him, at " its own aweet will," turning and winding H 
ever-varying curve amidst its banks of freshest ) 
What B, contrast it presents in ita playful gambollinga h 
to its staid and sober self—" alike, but oh ! bow differoi^ 
— in the lower part of its course ! It is really worth t 
whiie of our " Seestu" friends to make a pilgrimage U 
district for tbe express purpose of witnessing the boyhfl 
of their native stream. Not crabbed age and youth | 
more essentially opposite in their characters. The ( 
sluggish, and withal filthy waters, wbich wash the shippii 
at the classic Sneddon, are here sportive, joyous, and pap 
while every link and turn presents a new portraiture of tj 
van or flowery loveliness. There is a deep moral ii 
contrast, wbich we have no doubt our sagaeioua readers w 
expiacate for themselves. Truth is said to have her habiti^l 
tJon in a well ; but the pensive observer will occasionally fii 
her bathing in the rippled How of the lonesome 

The present village of Eaglesham is of comparative 
aodem arigiu — an ancient hamlet of the same name hnviu 


vsa i-ociiGois. 145 

demolished in 17C9 by Alesivnder, tenth Earl of Eslin- 
Ui make imy Ibr it, he having some time previoualj 
bawn up a pliin Ibr its erection. It is consequently regulur 
■ppearancc, and conaistB principal]/ of two lengthened 
10*1 ofbouBeB running from east to west, which are aituated 
Ifpoite each other on the sides of a kind of shallow valley 
«|lea, in the face of a gentle detlivity. At tbe upper end 
rows of houaca are 100, and at the loner 25U yards 
^■rt. Each house baa a plot of garden-ground in its rear; 
1>UI« the Bpoce in front, down the middle of nhich a rapid 
♦wmlat gushes, ia |iHvtly wooded ond partly of n ainooth 
■*vd, interspersed with trees, which forma the bleaching- 
ind pljiyground of tbe village. Between the rows at 
ulowerend are aituated a meal-mill, the Kghnton Arms 
»i and the parish school. Alidway up, in a considerable 
lies the extensive establishment of the Eaglesham 
ig Company. Half-hidden from the eye, and with 
Wything about them clean and orderly, these important 
9rka, contrary to what might have been espeeted, do not 
t^ least detract from the rural aspect of the locality. Tbe 
wiiaery U driven by an immense water-mbcel of iron, about 
> KaC in diameter, and of IJO horse-power. For tbo propul- 
JHiof this, 740 cubic feet of water per minute are required ; 
t n ingeniously ia the fluid conducted to and i'rom the 
^Mel that it is neither heard nor seen within the walla 
FAb ftetoiy. 

lAl the south-e^t corner of tbe Tillage is tbo parish 
■<mb, a small octangular building of the most unpre- 
Uing appearance. This structure was erected in 1790, 
I the site of a still more diminutive edifice of considerablu 
ttiqaity, by Archibald, the eleventh Earl of Eglintoo. It 
marounded by nii extenslvo bnrying-ground, in which, 
HhoDT usual penchant for "sermons in atones," we Imger 
the aad discomfiture of a pretty numerous 
of sheqi which are nibbling tbe verdure from the 
mounds of the dead. There are diSerenccs of taste, 


o doubt, among mcD, but, for our part, we should re^ 
not like to have our mutton brought to U3 from the churd 
yard. We know one place where the field of gnivei 
reserved for the minister's cow, anJ we have more tin 
e in our peregrinntiona como across x, clerieul po 
meditating among the tombs; but, in truth, we think lli 
custom of turning the fertilizing properties of decaying mo 
tolity into profit would be considerably "more honoui«di 
the breach than the observance." Iiet the EagleshamNi 
I endeavour to find perquisites without viokting 11 
amenities of the grave ; as for the professional ofieoda 
we have alluded to, we shull not presume to interftl 
with their proceedings. Aa Burna baa aaid, and as don 
less be knew to bis coat, 

There are a considerable number of old memorial rtonM 
the Eagleshara burjing-ground, but none which call 
special remark, with the exception of a monument erecU 
to the memory of two individuals who were put to death " 
their adherence to the Solemn League and Covenant, ia 
reign of the Second Charles. The structure is of uompi 
lively recent erection, but the inscription is evidently i 
and has probably been transcribed from a more ancient hel 
atone. It ia aa follows : — 

'■ PsilDi cilL 8 — ■ TlB rinUteoM iiia 
ing the coreninled tMllmony, by h par 

Besides the parish church there are several other pla 
of worship in Eaglesham. The inhabitants are prindpi 
weavers and factory workers ; and as usual amongst 
Bianu/kcturing popuhtioa, conaiderable dl\ers,\tj ot o ' 



hrsilg, Free Clmrch, United Presbj-teridn, and Mori- 
meeting-liouses are pointed out to us, each having 
town little kDot of adherenta ; while there ia a sprinkling 
Catholics, and also of those who, as our informant 
'care ibr none of these things. " 
Allogethif , the village, both in respect to situation and 
lUgement, is one of the most attractive that we have yet 
taieised. It is indeed a pleasant habitation. The children, 
in in noisy groups are playing about as we pass, have a 
Imesa and rosiness of complexion which the parents of 
city might well look upon with envy; while the very 
vers have a colour in their cheeks which telU of salutary 
I lod a not overly close attendance on the loom. This ia 
by the circumstance that most of them have a 
IA of ground in the vicinity of the village, which they 
w^te at spare hours, and which not only adds considerably 
Itlieir domestic comfort, hut adminlsfers to their bodily 
by the out-door exercise which it induces. It ia this 
Ubinatton of the manufacturing with the agricultural em- 
pnents which, in general, renders the country weaver a 
t« comfortable as well as a more robust and healthy 
ividual than the webster of the town. 
Rk barony of Eaglealiam, which includes nearly the entire 
Hh, was for many generations the properly of the I^Iont- 
Mries, who latterly became EarU of Eglinton. It came 
I their hands originally through a Robert de Montgomery, 
flle twelfth century. For two hundred years it continued 
chief seat of this noble family, which has ever been 
tourably distinguished in the annala of our country. In the 
Bleenth century the baronies of Eglinton and Ardroasan 
obtained by the marriage of John de Montgomery with 
ibeth, daughter and hdress of Sir Hugh Eglmton, by a 
; of Robert 11,, King of Scotland. This gentleman 
[uiihed and took captive Harry Percy {Ihe " Hotspur" 
i) at Otterboume, and afterwards received a 
ime sum by way of ransom for that gallant though 


unfortunate knight. Xear EaglesUaio the vesl 
■ncient caetle arc eUII pointed out, which u Bsid t 
erected with the English gold obtained on the 
Some of our readers, we daresay, nill rememt 

■Had wherein the exploits of thia doughty * 


""niB aDrdDiift KDOd In EDL^llBb bloa4 
The LyndBByn dew Jllce lire Alhni^ 

"TTe Pmriuid HcmCffomftrie m^ 

And Ibfllr rod hludc nu between' 
" ■ Yield lh«. yield Ihco. Percy," he uld, 
' To Mboiii >hiJl 1 yield.' raid Eul Perc;. 

And ttie Powj led cspllye »w»r." 
Of Hugh Montgomery, the son of this hero, has a 
a ballad immortality. Those who are familiar wi 
Chase," (and who is not?) will at once rememl 
gallant knight was slain on that fatal field by an 
the bovr of a stout English yeoman, — 

In our own day the Eaglesham estate has de| 
the Montgomery family. It is now In poBsessic 
Gilmour, Esq., n merchant prince of onr own ga 
of a class which, by the peaceful conquests of ii 
commerce, are, in modem times, gradually steppi 
shoes of the ancient lords of the soil. 

Afler a little rest and needliil refreshment at 

ire proceed towards Lochgoin, which is ^tuated 

I Vtoor, Eome four or live miles to the south-west. 



-third oftliia distance there is an excillent country road, 
sfierthat the rambler must pinnae into the bowelii of the 
orland, and trust very much to cUatiee, or his own skill io 
iffxd to the cardinal points, ai to whether ho shall ever 
ich luB destination. In some places there are tiiint traces 
' i footpalh, but these are continually disappearing, or 
liing you astray — sometimes into a, brown moss-water 
nil, at others into a fine green spot that, siren-like, smiles 
your face whilo luring you to wet feet. There are several 
itenaive lochs or reservoirs in the moor. Alter passing iu 
Wsiiun three of these, which are named respectively 
ffcltelW Loch, Mid Loch, and Dunwnn Loch— the latter 
which, a broad sheet of water, supplies the Eagleaham 
ius — we fairly lose our reckoningi It ia in vain that we 
davoor to recover ourselves by observation of the son, 
Aioh is shining brilliantly in the zenith, so we resign the 
to fortune, and determine to enjoy the wild beauty of 
ceuery. We are surrounded by bleak hills and wide 
ues, stretching far as the eye can reach. In the words 
•(•poet who spent his bojhood here, we are encircled 

wild cry of the curlew or the plover alone breaks the 
■Wy silence, unless when the stunlcd snipe springs from 
■Bshy brink of a mos.'^y pool, with a whirr and a shrill 
iiD-Dote. as the unwanted presenile of man scares it from 
tlolitacy haunt. Yet Flora has her favours for the botanist 
here. The snowy tufts of the cunnch wave gracelully 
e breeze ; the grass of Parnassus {Paniama puluairis), 
its beautiful corolla; and the bog asphodel (nailhecium 
^ffum), with ihi-ir golden bloom, make the desert to 
Ilore also are the sun-dew ('Irusera rolundifoUa}, 
beads of pearl ; the cinijue foil {lomiaarum paliistre), 
deep purple putnia ; and nuaifrous other cultureieaa 
Lta of the untrodden wilds, — 


While we are paying our devoirs to the goddess of sceat U 
bloom, a stranger luckilj beavea in sight, irhom we at oK 
hasten to meet. We have, he inrorms us, wandered <xt 
sideriibly from the right track, whieh be points out; and i 
the same time describes certain landmarks, by obsei 
which we ehall be lesa likely to lose our com 
He also gives us directions where we shall find a oelebrUoi 
spring, the water of which he praises for all imaginable f 

'ities, and which he adviaea us by all means to ■ 
Taking leave of our obliging informant with a liberal out- 
pouring of gratitude, we again proceed on our wa^.irluchf 
as formerly, lies 

" O'er mouei, ilftpa, mooiA hAjn And 5t]1c&" 
We do not again lose ourselves, however, and si 
" Woofield well," to which we were so kindly d 

s a tiny springtet, which bubbles out of a green binlc 
fringed with white-flowered water-cresa, beneath a r 
declivity, near the east end of Lochgoin. Time out of n 

e are informed, it has been a favourite rendezvous of tha 
sportsmen on the Eoglcsham moors. Nor do we wonder It 

drcumstance, for more limpid water or n 
cold we certainly never tasted. It has apparently been de 
signed by Nature as the scene of a pic-niu. Behind is & 
towering trap-rock ; before ia the dark placid waters « 
Lochgoin, unfretted by the shadow of bush or tree, with tb 
dreary expanse of the moor and a perfect wilderness of hil 
n the diatance. Pulling out our vaaculum, wV 
ing we took the precaution to charge with a liberal alloir 

e of provender, we set to work with an appetite 
only a wanderer in eiich wilds can thoroughly appreciate 
while a teetotaller would bedelighted to witness our frequei 
and deep potations of Nature's own delicious brewing. It 
questionable, however, whether he would sympathize alt< 
gecher with our aaJible aspimtion for a tlumbkfuX ot. <3I 



rtidden dew at the termination of our repast. Be that as 
It loaj, it IB Bometbing to our regret that tbe necessities of 
the loeali^ enforce the iron rule of " touch not, taate not, 
handle not," A kenning of the treature would have formed 
sQch a treat in judicious combination nith the nlmost gelid 

We hft-ve scarce concluded our meal, al fresco, when we 
obterre two lads from a neighbouring farm-house unmoor- 
ing R boat on the loch below. One of thera frankly accosts 
os, and ofTere us a passage, if we choose, to the west end of 
thenater, a distance of perhaps two-thirds of a mile, where 
the farm of Lochgoin is situated. Closing with the offer, 
* "CTj short period seua us gliding over the glassy surface of 
the lake to our destiuation. 

The farm of Jjochgoin is somewhat like an oasis in the 
drearj waste. Around the house are a few patches of oats 
^potatoes, with a small garden for kitchen vegetables and 
'^ hnnlier kinds of flowers, Fruit trees there are none, for 
'o6 hest of all reasons — they could not exist in such an ex- 
poted and barren situation. There are a few of our hardiest 
■mes, however; hut even these have a dwarfed and miser- 
^le appearance. For miles around stretches the wild moor- 
luid, barren and desolate as it came Irom the hand of 
'I'tture, and the only practical use of which is as pasture for 
>l>cep and cattle. Some idea of the soil of this hleak Shet- 
wndiah locality may be formed from the fact that we find 
Iw formers, as we pass, making hay on fields where tbe 
"dlsture, oozing from the grouiiii, is from two to three 
iDcheB in depth. The farm-steading of Lochgoin is a low 
'msgu of houses, partly of recent erection and purtly of con- 
■identble antiquity. The larger and most coiulortable 
Wking portion is devoted to the accommodation of cattle. 
Tile present occupant of Lochgoin is Mr. Thomas Howie, 
•liB descendant of a long line oi ancestors, who have for 
■tan; generations dwelt on tbe same spot, and who huve 
n^ throughout honourably distinguished for their attach- 


ment to tbe cause of rcligiona libcrt}'. The founder of tl 
family is said to hnve been one of the persecuted Wnlilenif 
who in 1178 fled from Lis native land, and found an 
thougli solitHry place of rest and pe-ace at Locbgob. "Hit 
date of hifl arrival, with others indicating the va 
at trhich altcriLtiona and aijditions to the original teneineil 
have bt'ca made, are carved on the lintel of the prindpd 
doorwaj. During tlie dark ii:xya of religiouH persecution, 

" Wlien <he ralaister'i liDnie wu the miHintslii and wood.*' 
in the reign of Chnrles II., who wai, in sad truth, no " men] 
Monarch" to Scotland, nnd that of his bigoted and pndt- 
ridden brother James II,, whom England flung from hrf 
like an unclean thing, Lochgoin formed a frequent iij 
to those who had sai^ridced their all for conscience' i 
Cameron, Peilen, and others, often found ahcller under ill 
hospitable though humble roof. For this the faouae was 
dered not less that) from ten iO twelve times ; nhiJe its in 
wore as often driven to seek safety in the moors bj* d 
revengeful dragoons, who, by the way, it is some consolatM 
to know, must have hod considerable difficulty in findiiq 
their way on horseback to the place. The names of JlU 
Howie, the possessor of the farm, and that of his too, m 
also placed on the fugitives' roll, and espoaed oi 
doors ; while it appears from a proclamation, dated Mtjr K 
1679, that they were both denounced aa rebeta and dangor* 
ous persons. Nevertheless, they continned firm to tbM 
principles, and although exposed to great hardships tx 
perils both survived until after the Revolution. John Hovi 
father of the present possessor, was tho author of tbs Sea 
Worlki^, a work which contains biographical sketches I 
tho leading personages who struggled and died for tl 
covenanted work of Beformation in those times, and whii 
has obtained an almost anrivalled popularity in the thi 
dislricta of Scotland. 

At the time of our visit Mr. Howie is in tba fields tw 
ir/ti hh iavmakiag, hat we are received in the<iiM 

nner by tbe goodwife, who si once proceeds 

rtun relics of tbe Coveimnters, nhicli have been 

preserved in tbe family. Tbeee are the Blbli 

of Captain Jobn Paton, one of the wortbiea 

his principles at Pentland and Bothwell Bridge, 

afterwards execnted at Edinbnrgb for iaiA 

these transactions. The capt^ also served 

Bianters agninat Montrose ; and certain marvellonB 

K told of bis exploits with the aword in qotstion, 

iparty had been routed at Eilsjtb. In tbe memoir 

hich is published in tbe Scots WorlhUs, tbe following 

inary statement appears regarding bis prowess on 

cket and Stracbin. Alltliicetlie 

""IIL thoy vtre encaonienil by a 

.... .. — _ Whenihoylii 

■iKmC lUrtosi more, uid of tbue iheykUlalEeii, n Oat onlr Ur 
dotbelrcKavfr Batupontliflapprauhof AbqatelevenHJiEbiBiid 
litis ColoBofi <Ud lb a (RmUIar dIalecC, ' JdBlr, ir thoa dost i 

aptain's other feats, many of which are sufficieotl] 
I, inll be found recorded in the book alluded to. 
now rosty and time-worn, but evei 
been a light blade, and all unlikely to do Each 
ork. It is said at one time to have had a series of 
edge, corresponding to the number of years dur- 
b the peiBectitiou lasted. These emblematic notches 
DOW visible. Tbe Bible ia dated 1652, and has the 
inscription on the inside of one of tbe boards :— 

bjoha Paton'i Bible, ohlch he mn to his wife tnm oH tbe 
u bs iriu EiecDted for ilie caiue of Chrin b1 Edlnburgti. on the 
je84. Jhdu UqoIb rncelvEd It frnm TheCapulu'i mil's dangblei'a 
M gjiTu II to Julin HoHle, hit nepusw." 

IB these interesting relics, we are shovm the banner 
aved above the heads of the Covenanters at the 
Drumclog, whan the bloody Claverhoiise was sent 
ight about by a bandfiil of undisciplined peasants. 

St ■ 




It ia oC white linen, and h&s the figures of a Bible and d 
supported hy tbe thistle, rudelj- traced od it mth a k< 
p^ment, and the motto, 

"Plilnkk (orcoDunyand unenanud itcirli of Re£>niuCtlit1." 
An old dmm also, which beat the alarm on that memo 
morning when the troopers hove in eight as the Covenant 
were engaged in prayer on the lonely moor, is also plu 
in our banila, ami we need Bcnrcelj' aay excites cur 
interest An antiquary would be delighted with a ci 
of ancient mher coina which ig in the poaeession of. 
tamil)", and wo cannot help picturing to ourseivea I 
eoataay which a Monkberna might have felt bad be b 
shown into the eponce of Lochgoin, as we are, and permil 
to examine the extensive assortment of old books whi<j 
contains. These were principally purchased, as we 
stand, by the author of the Scola WurlAies, and n 
tliem must have, been of ineatimable Eervice to him for] 
poses of referenoe in the composition of that work, 
pull out a number of them at random, and find them ta 
generally of a religious or historical character, and nearlj; 
of venerable date. One old Bible interests us considera^ 
it is of date 1599, and was " Printed by the deputifl 
Christopher Smart, printer to Queen Elizabeth," 
in a good state of preservation, and contains a number 
curious engravingB, amongat which. wc observe a map whei 
the geographical position of the garden of Eden is 
delineated. Altogether, wo are highly gratified by oi 
to this out-of-the-way nook; and wo do not wonder I 
many hundreds annually, as we are informed i) 
ahonld be attracted to its precincts. The wild beauty of 
locality, Che associations of an interesting nature which. 
entwined around it, and the venerable relics of the [ 
which it contains, must ever render it a sacred spot in 
eyes of those who sympathize with the trials and si 
those brave men, from the darkness of whose siifienngi 
Ju-Mea /or as the day-aOr of & brighter enk. Aa lAi 


ive of the obliging matron, and set out on our homeward 
tj, we cannot help repeating the following lines from a 
nnine Scottish poet, which seem to us peculiarly applicable 
the place: — 

** And from that lonely rugged spot 

Ascended rich and rare 
The incense of the contrite heart, 

The sacrifice of prayer; 
And angels flrom the neights of hearen 

Did look complacent down 
On honoured heads that soon should wear 

The martyr's glorious ciown." 

Before leading Lochgoin, we may mention that the pros- 
KSt from the vicinitj of the house, looking towards the 
Bth and west, is of the most spacious and beautiful descrip- 
n, including within its range Loudon hill, near which the 
tde of Drumclog was fought, and an extensive portion of 
e Ayrshire coast, with Ailsa Craig and the picturesque 
>ontams of Arran in the distance. The atmosphere is 
KghtMly dear, and we consequently belu>ld the land of 
nui spread, as in a map, at our feet ; while, on the blue 
i beyond, the white sails are gleaming here and there like 
nry specks of cloud on the summer sky. The motion of 
^ fair children of the deep is of course imperceptible in 
i extreme distance, and to our gaze they seem 

" As Idle even as painted ships 
Upon a painted ocean." 

It is always monotonous and wearisome to retrace one^s 
ps on an excursion, and we determine, instead of returning 
Eaglesham, to take a circuitous course, and to make our 
Y home by Mearas. With this intention we strike across 
> moor in a northerly direction, towards the hill of Bally- 
ch. The way is rough enough in all conscience, and 
cibly brings to our mind the exclamation of the Highlander 
fleeing the roads which Greneral Wade had constructed 
ODgh the wilds of his native country, — 

** Hod you seen these roads hefbre thev were made, 
Too would hold up your hands and hless Qenconl Wade! ** 

e road froili Lochgoin to Ballygeich is not yet made, and 



we would recommend any one wlio lias a desire thoron^ 
to apprcdate the benefits of modern road-making to 
walk from tlie one pkce to the other. The distance mey W 
•tnniewliere about two miles, and by dint of leaping, wadii 
and scrambling, ne manage to get OTer them in rather mi 
than an hour. 

The hill of Baliygeioh b, with the exception of MittilMT 
and the Mil of Staik, the highest eminence in the county i 
Renfrew, being about 1,000 feet ahove the level of thosa 
It is ptindpftlly composed of the trap-rock prevalent in A 
district ; but several specimens of barytes have been found i 
its vidnity, and a species of stone which bears extreme h 
without renting, and baa consequently been found w 
adapted for the construction of furnaces and ovens. Iti 
also reported to contain silver and lead orts ; but it must b 
admitted that nothing of the sort comes under our obserm 
tion. The prospect from its summit, howevef, fully rep 
ua for any dieappointment which we may experience on t 
score. It indeed commands on extensive and beaatifnl wr 

of landscapes, embracing many c. r- 

On one hand are the moors of Fcnwick, with the feiw| 
woods and fields of AjTshire, the giant rock of Ailaa, and tfal:^ 
towering Goatfell in the distance ; on the other, the gf^^^i 
basin and vale of Clyde, with Glasgow, Paisley, and countlaM', 
other towns and hamlets in its capacious bosom, while ■! 
perfect wilderness of Bens rise proudly on the dim horiiOO'j 
lliie was a favourite hannt of the author of The Count 9 
Time, who was bom and spent his early years in the viiaiut^ 
Here the youthful pout came lidl oft to feast hia expandii 
soiil with the elements of beauty and sublimity; and thd^ 
who are familiar with his great poem will doubtless recolW 
that several of its most striking passages are evident^ 
descriptive of the scenery which was here impressed upon U 
memory. We may mention, however, that in 
of the landscape here, we unfortunately dropt our vascolofl 
wiich, for the bene&t of the non -initiated, we ma-j Bx^^M 

H^ ft sort of japanned IJn-cenister, ueed by botanists for 
B> convenient ccmveyance of tlieir specimena. It lias been 
*r eoinpanbn on many a flower-gnthering excursion ; and 
lltliDDgli of no great value in a pecuniary sense, we have 
■ sort of afieclion for it, which makes us regret its los.'i 

Leaving Ballygeich and proceeding in a north-west dirtc- 
lion by Moorhouse, we soon, after crosuing the Earn by a 
lucic bridge, arrive at the Glasgow and Kilmarnoclc road, 
about nine loilea from the city. Being eomewhat fagged 
■itli onr devious wanderings, and evening drawing rapidly 
on, we make an effort and push smartly homeward. Inolud- 
mg 3 few minutes' rest at Nuwton-of-Mearns, we get over 
tbe distance in about two and a-half hours. Latterly, we 
ffliut admit, the mile-stones, to oar fancy, appear aomewlint 
"lang o' coming," but this is scarcely to be wondered at, 
is consideTed that our peregrinationa must have 
, by a moderate computation, considerably over 
liT miles. 



nut'itlH FDrtb,'uU th«Bil1lB,w9tll<indrornm 
ved tbe Scotah niBaily mj ta Uieir dlitiiiKoliliBd ri» 
d. Gba Tortb, and tbe Spe^ nte tiaoklljr uofned by 
buki wlUi ■ uiC oCrupecl ud pride."— Aet itoy. 

Not only are the above remarkfl of the author of Waia\ 
trae with regard to the larger rivers of Scotland, bat th* 
also hold good with respoct to tbe most diminutive of lie 
ntreamlets aod burua. The Scotch have a perfect p 
indeed, for the " livbg waters " with which their boantifi 
couQtrj is everywhere so delightfully intersected. 1 
one of them, from the greatest even xaito the least, is 
named, or christened if you . will y^ and the music of 
names — for they are nearly oil concords of sweetest sounfl-" 
flowa into tbe very hearts of those who dwell among tbw 
green banks and braes, and nut un&equently comes wellin 
Ibrtb again in never-dying melody. Glance at the glo«u> 
pagt^ of Scotia's matchlesa book of song, and yoi 
once learn the depth and fervour of that affection which ll 
natives of the cannie North bear to the running wateis 
their "wn countrie." Beyond tbe Tweed the traveller of 
aeka in vain at the dull cbawbacon the designation of brol 
or stream. The wee'est toddhn' bairn in Scotland, with tJ 
faintest developaieut oven of "the gift of the gab," ca 
once name its own natal bum; Bad not only that, but vr 
volunteer on the instant to show the straoger the iiurooci 
pools whore the httlc minnow and the " beardiu '' have U 
iauBCs, and tbe ahallows where the weans of 


love to paidle among the tiny wavelets. The bard of 
ksU, who has inTested many waters with a muMc sweeter 
n their own, ncrer touched a deeper cbord than wtiL'n, in 
love-fraught lay of Langsyne, he makes the long-parted 
nds recall the vradiugs of Ufa's young day. Uow many 
Mas have melted in tearful sympathy over the two simplrj 

W buve seen gray-headed men, "loof locked in loof," 

IWiung them in trembling tones together; while the aaut, 

Bt pearls of memory were trickling down each furrowed 

we have seen young men and maidens fair 

alternate liiV" the festive board, and chaating 

n in loving and heartfelt harmony. In the lowiy cottage 

in the lofty hall they find a sympathetic echo ; at honie, 

onggt our own gray hills, or ayont the faeiu in tltc land 

&e rtranger, wherever two or three of Scotia's callanta 

gathered together, there is heard, midst mingling tears 

smiles, the soug of songs that brings them back the 

days of youth, and the remembrance of their ain 


and most beoutifiil of rivers to our heart and eye, is 
dear Clyde. 

Out unn, aur sMtis C^Oe. 
Cet is our lore anything but exclusive. We love thee 

sylvan Tweed ! although to us thou art but ■ name. 
ow, albeit unvi^ted, is dear unto our heart, for sake of 

1 who have Borrowed and sung by her aide. The Doon, 
and the Cart have, !.inee our earliest days, been 

M fomiliar as househoVd -MotiB \.o o^it wi raA "s^t «s^ 
lyrics of Scotland'a aweeU»i. am^fs^ , 'O'^ •^«i'*™is 




since gazed upon their material cbarms with e 
ailinirotioa and delight. As well itlterapt to 

as to reckon the number of our beloved t 
have undoubtedly favourites among the wirapling n 
murcrs. Clyde is, of course, the foremost and the 
then there is the tiny Earn, the beautiiul brown-til 
Earn, that winsomo wanderer by lonely paths, wboDi w 
now about to unveil. Tbou too, reader, must be uddi 
among her admirers, or we shall henceforth have i 
doubts of thy taste. 

Our first introduction, we may premise, to the Eun ■ 
through the inspired writings of Christopher North, n 
score of years ago. How lovingly the " old man elaqaefl| 
babbled of its charms ! It was the stream of his boyhoM 
and the golden light of langsj'ne fliekered round his p 
in memorj he deliaeatcd its beauties. He was once tif 
the yellow-haired stripling, roving st will among the ' 
iuaor» — a lonely but happy familiar of bird, and beast, tM I 
flower, with insatiate spirit feeding on the beautiful, 
had agMn donned for the first time the sporting jatkel, 
and was treading the plashy brink of the brother loch, « 
threading the mazes of the amber Earn, waging deadly wU 
with the red-speckled trout. The description was, in tratli, _ 
steeped in richest poesy, and made such an impression 01 
onr youthful imagination, that we determined t 
pilgrimage to the locality for the express purpose of g 
upon the loveliness of what seemed to our mind's 
species of fairy land. Years passed away, however, and4 
Earn was still to us a waking dream. The Cotiriem 
Time, wtucb oflerwards fell into our bands, recalled it m 
vividly to our memory. The author of that noble poem 
was born in the immediate vicinity of this moorland stream, 
and spent the happiest portion of his too brief existence 
"liers below" amongst its Jonely banks and braes. 



purposed a ramble amid the sceoery which geniua hitd 
li!"ed bj- the light of lit preseiiM ; but again tiinu was 
nitted to slip away, and although we obtained on several 
toons a pasang glimpse of the Earn, our reeolve to spend 
OR anmmer day 

iplished. A friend, who is familiar with 

timi and winding of the stream, however, has at length 

ided us to include tlie lale of the Earn in onr series 

ifiuablea, and we hove consequently now to request the 

ipuiy of our readers on this our Idng-proposed and long- 

lovely August morning. Phicbus, to use the words 
ionest Allan Ramsay, has begun 

"To sped the OlymWan b«a 
Wfa cnrHsde 0' bleazin' flaj;" 

the fellow fields below reflect untarnished the radiance 
Jul slanting beams. Leaving the dty and ita smoky 
delioiously fresh and cool is the breath of 
fouog autumn as we meet it among the dewy hedge- 
l! A slight touch of frost lingers in the aJr, and the 
3s of evening are still unmelted on the lace-work of the 
[-spider, which clings to bush and tree. How loudly 
tds the horn of chanticleer among the scattered farm- 
da I how liquid soft the pipings of the robin among the 
ling foliage of the birch I Blessings apon thy bright 
k eye and thy swellbg breast of red, sweet songster of 
[ADtumn day ! The blackbird's golden bill is silent now 
w woodland glade ; the voice of the throstle ia mute in 
leaiy choiri while the lark is heard no more in the fur 
I vault of heaven, showering his merry music-drops o'er 
i and moor ; but thou hast still a lay of love for the 
ingyear, " most muaicol, most melaueholy." When the 
la are bare, and the bam-yords are crowded ; when the 
igh is at rest, and the stream 'naa taaaei \ji '^.■r« \ -^aKsi. 
lias departed from ft\efot«aV:,axA'CQaaVitsv'«i'»«i 



pitiless over the floTrerlciBB lea, thou art Etill beard ia t 
fitful panses of the blast, like hope in the bveast of afflictit 
sinpng thy notea of solace and of "promised joy." 1 
whence come those jocund voices — those laud-ringiDg bnl 
of laughter? From the gladsome harvest field, Irom lO 
the fast-falling grain. See, here are the reapers, a men 
motle}' crew of many-coloured garb, mth the waring gt 
before thero, and thick-strewn stooks in lengthening at 
behind. Old age and youth side by side are striving ba 
together. That anciept matron with the flamiel mtib 
would scorn to lag behind the blooming huff-capped Unm 
on the next rig ; yon groy-taired carle, observe, ia in adfW 
oftheswankje chiel' who calls him neighbour. "There 
life in the old dog yet." Cupid, with a reaping-hook imM 
of bis customary bow, b also there. How alyly that nn 
with the blue plush vest is shearing his way into the afiactio 
of the soDsie queen beyond him ! The fellow ia sctWU 
doing half her work, although sorely tantalized for I 
gallantry by that wicked wag of an Irisliman, whose ro 
jest brings the burning blush to the cheek of the 
maiden, and sets the lield in a roar. But we must cad 
contemplation of the picturesque group, and move upon 
way. We too have a harvest to gather. Paesiag hon 
Cathcart, with ita blue smoke curling over the trees, iti 
old castle, and its fine new kirk ; Clarkston, with ita road 
cottages ; and Busby, with its hives of iodustry ; we f 
arrive at Waterfoot, the lovely meeting-place of Eam 
Cart, and the last sweet scene in the former streamlfl 
devious but withal brief pilgrimage. By the by, ni 
Wtoting for our friend, who trysted to foregather with 
here, we may mention that we have " a craw to pie 
with Christopher the Great in regard to this same wa 
of Cart. In his moat beautiful article " Our Parish," wl 
talking of the stream which ia even now murmuring 
welcome to ita amber tributaiy at our feet, he Baya,, ~' 
Cani^aj; the river Cart— not that on whlct ^irettyT 

THX xAmr, inuBNS castlk, and moorhocsx. 163 

stends, but the Black Cart, beloved by m chiefly for sake of 

Oathcart Gaitle, which, when a collegian at Glasgow, we 

mted every play-Friday, and deepened the ivy on its walla 

«th onr first sombre dreams." Now, old man (though 

Hnven bless thee for thy remembrance of the castle of onr 

boyish love), we have here caught thee tripping.* This is in 

irndi none other than the veritable White Cart which, far 

bebw, and after many a beauteous sweep and playful wind- 

ii^, washes the walla of Paisley's time-honoured town, thy 

Qvn loved place of birth. That thistle-top, which with our 

tnsty switch we send whizzing into the yeasty foam, will, 

lill-dam interruptions excepted, most assuredly, ere to- 

DORow's dawn, dance over the ^^Hanmiils" and past the 

fiigrant Sneddon to meet the Black Cart at Inchinnan 


After lingering for a brief space at Waterfoot, gazing on 
^ mingling waters as they gush in music over the shelving 
rocb, and watching the wagtails flitting in graceful curves 
from stone to stone, we are greeted with the blythe good- 
iDorrow and kindly smile of our firiend Mr. Follok, brother 
of the bard, who has lefl his haymaking for a day to 
introduce us with all the honours to his native stream. 
"Cobble's isle^' first claims our attention. This is an insular 
patch of land, situated in a fork of the Earn, which flows 
into the Cart by two channels — one a mill-lade, the 
other the natural bed of the water. On this tiny isle 
there is a one-storeyed cottage, which for many years was 
inhabited by an eccentric old man, a cooper to profession, 
who had a pet gander called "Cobbie," which he loved 
exceetogly. The snow-white bird, indeed, was the pride 
of the venerable cooper's heart. He loved to see it gliding' 
over the smooth mill-dam with its companion shadow, or 
breasting the dancing foam-flakes below the rocky linn. 

* Alail since this artlole was penned, the **old man eloquent*' haa Kone to 
thit Ibtmrae towards which all travellen are tending, and txom NtVksa^ \\!(i 
Ahwpfar e 'er returaa, Peace to hlu oabea 1 


OAkti, in tbe sammoT silemoonSi woiild he e 

the end of his cot, gazinjt upon the evolu 
fenthenid favouriw, or fceding it from hia hand 
near tbe graTellcl margin. But "all that'a 
fedu," and poor Cobble went at length the way i 
The man of hoops and staves was disconsolate, a 
hia bereavement many days. To perpetuate the 
lost one, howerer. he conferred its name upon I 
his habitntion. The neighbours around, to pli 
man, adopted tbe designation; and now, thon^ 
elapsed since he also passed anay, the name 
clin^ to the spot. 

Along the flowery margin of the Earn, in a 
direction, we now wend our devious way. 
brilliance in the picture. Instead of the moon 
the playful streamlet here realizes, in the mi 
tiums's inimitable description, — 

" ffhlliH owBT i linn [bs bnmle pisyi, 




Now it is leaping in whiteness over some cha 
now it sweeps sullenly 'neatb some overhonginj; u 
and gray, or velveted with the greenest of moa 
it reflects in its glassy bosom some solitary birch 
group of saughs. How richly tangled with veg 
brink at every sunny tuml The wild rose-bu 
lust reddening hips, the bramble with its tempti 
of ebon-dye, and the bazel with its clear browi 
'bosky Insuriance, are projecting over tbe steep 
form a screen of beauty to the jinking, gurgling, I 
VRodcror betow. Didst over see such ttatelj 
compose yon hoary-headed group, now fiingbf 
parachutes to the passing breeie ? We trow not 
here is Scotland's dn blue-bell, not "lurking loi 

r, XKAXsa cAnLB, ard »oossoobx. Ifi5 

Bill truiing itith a graoefiil pride over the brow of yonder 

pwipice in miniatare, and side by side with the crimwn 

belu of heather, and the bright golden tufis of the bird-foot 

bsfoil, -while the green plume of the bracken hanga aweetly 

Ont them, and curtuns their lovehness from " the garish eye 

'd«y." This ia Wiadmill farra-BteacSns to the left, and 

Q amy observe that, compared with the crops we have 

SB in our own warm vale, the "stuff hereabouts is still 

TO green." It promiaea well, however, and we doubt not 

It yonder now empty barn-yard will see another sight and 

il > far other tale some half dozen weeks hence. The 

fliitriel around us is rather of a pastoral than an agricaltural 

ttiracter. The spiky wheat is seldom seen here; hot it is 

these green hills that Glasgow receives her spates of 

dook, her humplucks of rich yellow butter, and her 

hbbnckB innumerable of palatable cheese. 

After pursuing for an hour or so "the linked Bweetneas 
long drawn out" of the sportive fiam, wbicli in truth does 
know its own mind for two consecutive minutes, 
m keeps turning and winding, now hither, now yont, zig- 
•Igging fantastically from right to left, and occasionally even 
Woifeating a decided inclination to retrace its steps, we 
opposite the &xxa of Floors, at a picturesque bend 
nera formerly stood the mill of Boss. There is here a fine 
^B, Rome ten feet in height, which in bygone days gave 
Vo^an to the wheel, but which is now singing its eerie tune 
bibe echoes of an unbroken solitude. Of the mill not one 
upon anoliher. A few stately ash trees, through 
^b the blue smoke from the miller's hearth may have 
•"Iflii long ago, wave drearily over the spot — sole vestiges 
of what has been. In his boyhood, our friend remembers 
'■oming with a "melder" to the miller of Ross, who had a 
wn and a braw house then : 

Itvgaucy gudewife, with abaim in her arms, graced the 
[, and watched with mothcriy pride a number of 

weo toddlin' tliioga, with flaxen botr and rosy chocks, vl 

were tumbling before her on the green. But all is dull at 

lifeless now. The cheerful din of the happer is heard a 

more ; the loud laugh of the jollj miller, the prattle of pli^ 

ful children, and the crowing of the houaehold cock, &11, i 

are now Bilcnt. Nature has resumed her peaceful tm} 

The rank nettle waves on the site of cheerj but-and-boi 

and the solitary hare may kittle uodistvirbed od the col 

hearth -stone. 

We are now in the immediate vicinltj- of the ancient c«d 

of Mcarus, and for a brief space must turn aside Irom tb 

Earn to visit the time-honoured edifice. A few minateti' up 

hill walk brings us to Auldtoun Farm, where we are nelcoon 

with a dulicioiis howl of cold milk, and are introduced by oB 

fHend to the farmer's niece, Katie FoUok, a bonnie bit how. 

Scotch lassie, dressed beoomingly in shortgown and eoUi 

Katie UK soon discover to be food of flowers, and eall 

astically in love with the auld tower. After showing ot 

panues, which she denominates "step-mothers and daughten, 

a goodly show, we proceed to the castle-hill, acoompuis 

by a sagacious collie, 

'■ WhBW KMcy tall. Irt" Dpwsrt cnr], 
HingB flwer his bardlea wl' a BTlrl," 

The Castle of Mcams is situated on the aummitof a commaiJ 
ing knoll, the steep and somewhat rugged aides of whwdi il 
densely covered with wood. The structure consists of' 
strong quadrangular tower, the walls of which are from sert 
to eight feet in thickness, and are pierced at irregular 
vols by windows uud loopholes. In former times this stUl^ 
keep, -which is stjli in an excellent state of preservation, wi 
surrounded by a thick wall, which has now disappeared, wtl 
Che exception of a few veatigeaof the foundation. Thans 
also traces of an ancient drawbridge. But little is known 
the origin or history of Meams Castle. According to tradi 
tjon it was erected at an early period by a. chief of Meant 
aamed Jobastoa, whose residence previously -wtis on % I4 

fe"lted poaition in llie neighboorliood. Being disturbod 
momtng while at breakfast by a party of Itis enemies, 
JobDBlan, wlio seems to have been too partial to a qniet 
Mai for that mde age, resolved to build a place of atrengtli 
rein he coiUd enjuj- bimself without fear of biefoea. The 
ent edifice was the result ; but it is said that its erection 
the chief ao many slices of his barony that, when it was 
led, be had scarcely wherewithal to purchase a break- 
In the pithy words of Katie Pollok, " for soke o' hia 
be bad e'en biggit himsel' oot at the door." The first 
attic .circumstance reganling the Menms Castle which 
nin history, was ita transfer by marriage, nitb an heiress 
Ad bore the surname of Macgeachin, to the Ma^cwells of 
BnUveroclc, in the reiga of Alexander (he Second, After 
Winiag for several centuries in the family of Maxwell, it 
■a ultimately sold bj the Earl of Nithsdale about the year 
BIS to Sir George Maxwell of Nether Pollok, tron whom 
Aortly afterwards passed into the possession of Sir Archi- 
lid Stewart of BlBckhall, whose descendant. Sir Michael 
WW Stewart, is the present pro|)riotor. 
He interior of the edifice, which is still in good preservn- 
Oii, bas in recent times been the scene of more than one 
iblage. The members of the Meams troop of 
iry cavalry, previous to their disembodiment, held 
of their annual balls within the precincts of the 
ball, when the rank and beauty of the district graced 
their presence, for a number of years past, how- 
has been entirely deserted, the doors and windows 
been securely blocked up, while the minister of the 
■nth has been entrusted with the keys. Under these cir- 
I MWBBtanees we might have found some difficulty in efieeting 
'w entrance, but for an event which, to the serious injury of 
I ^ Mstle, bad occurred a short time previous to our viut 
^BMe fortalice, during a late thunder-storm, was actually 
^Hpnck with a shafl ti-om heaven, which efiectually demolished 
^^■B bonicsdcs in the windows, and thus cleared a passage 

16S TBE EAim, MBAima (uwiue, AnftiiMl 

which affords free ingress. A flag-staffon thw 
spparenlly nttracted the electric fluid, nfaich, i 
to the earth, caused a lurge rent in the wall 
bottom, ontl, with the force of the coacasno) 
window- boarda out with fuch force that aome (rf 
were afterwards found at a diatanca of many juf 
make our way into the hall without leave of th« 
which hia reverence, we dare say, will readilj exoi 
spacious apartment, of somewhat modem aspect 
replastered and otherwise altered, apparently 
more suitable for ball-room pm^oses. Descf 
narrow staircase, we next enter a dark Taul 
underneath, the gloom of which is only rendM 
the suauty radiance admitl-ed by a narrow loop 
thick wall. This was probably the prison or da 
establishment m " the brave days of old " who! 
vanq^uiAed foe was a virtue somewhat Hparin| 
Our fiur friend, Katie, seems rather unwilling t 
dreary den, and on our asking the reason of ha 
says — " I dinna ken, but folk say it's no a zanii] 
never seen onything ill in't mysel' ; but some t 
that took np their lodgings in the ha' abnne go 
wi' sonacthing doon here that they were iiiia to 
leave, and never durst venture back again. So: 
be jlst as weel to slip awa' up the stairs." T| 
advice, we now ascend to the battlements o 
from which we obtain n splendid prospect of tha 
country. To the south are the dreary moors of 
swelling gradually upwards to Ballygeich, and 
numerous flocks and herds. Westward, amidst 
verdant knolls, clumps of wood, and yellow fields 
Kirk and the Newton, with Dod HiQ and Neil 
the distance. To the north and east is the gi 
the Clyde, studded with towns, villages, and ma 
the Renfrewshire, KUpatrict, and Cainpsie hills 
bqrand, and the blue mountaim of the Gael are ) 


on the misty horizon. Beantiful, indeed, ia the wavy bosom 
of the Meams, as it lies outspread before as in the warm sun* 
time of the autumn noon. Merry groups are busy in the 
idds, and the blue smoke curling over cottage and hall gives 
fleasant indication of happy hearths. Yonder, observe, is 
tiwfine old baronial house of Nether PoUok; there again is 
Broomhoaae, with its green lawn and shadowy trees ; while 
here is the manse of Meams, half hidden among foliage — the 
home of Christopher North's boyhood. Could you fancy a 
more appropriate place for the nurture of a youthful poet? 
(her these sunny braes ran the yellow-haired boy, gathering 
iuensibly the rich stores of natural imagery with which he 
y$ since delighted the world. Where we are now sitting he 
,hii sat ; and often, in his dreams of day or night, would the 
ftifcares of ihe landscape on which we are now gazing in rap- 
ture flit across the inward eye of that eloquent old man, — 

** For therev no place half so sweet riii earth, 
As the home of life's yoiuig day. " 

"From morning sun till dine" we could linger in truth on 
this venerable tower, companion of the wall-flower which 
Qods at our feet to the passing gale, and monarch of the 
wide realm of beauty which we survey; but the day is 
Vttring on apace, and we have stiU many links of the Earn 
to unravel ere our darg is done. So, fair Kate, we must 
dtteend to Collie, who is waiting patiently for us behind the 
Btile. What a delicious spring we have here under the trees 
^H^ar as the glittering crystal, and cool as December's ice ! 
^ubtless thou hast arranged thy snood in this unwrinkled 
oiirror ere now, Kate, as the flowers even now are doing, 
^at drooping foxglove seems to admire its own fair image ex- 
<!6edingly, and stoops as if it fiun would kiss the purpled water. 
It is a pleasing floral illustration indeed of the old song — 

** Keek into the draw-well, Janet, Janet, 
There thou'lt see thy bonnie sel', 
My jo, Janet" 

Kdding Katie a kind farewell, we now return to the 
ouu^gio of ihe Earn. For some distance abo\e Tioea xc^^ 


the course of the stream is somewbat tame. It still 
taming and winding playfully ; but the banks are less 
and the channel is less frequently interrupted by 
shelving rocks which prevail farther down. Now an( 
we meet with a murmuring rapid, however, where the ] 
might linger with a fair hope of tempting the sp< 
trout to rise to the treacherous fly. The sand-lark 
these gravelly shallows, and as we move along it 
fluttering before us with its querulous cry of " kee-lee- 
from which it has received its common Scottish 
Vegetation is gradually becoming less dense as we ac 
into the breast of the moor. The iris and the meadow 
still accompany us, however, with the " leddie^s thistli 
a rich variety of tall grasses, which wave gracefully i 
fro with every breath of zephyr. Occasionally a field ( 
steals down almost to the edge of the water, "a^ 
green and yellow," and every now and then the ; 
ridges intercept our path with their crowns of mingled 
and bloom. Few and far between we meet a tuft of i 
a stunted hazel, or a scraggy mountain ash devoid of b 
Yet there is a pleasing appearance of coming plenty ( 
neighbouring braes and round the cosie-looking 
steads. The golden feet of autumn indeed are 
advancing o'er the rustling grain ; and are not her t 
beginning to be obvious on the cheek of the apple ? 
indeed might our friend, the author of " Wee Willie Wi 
exclaim — were he now by our side, as we could almos 
for his own sake he were, — 

" hairst-tlme's like a lippen cup 
That's gien wi' farthy glee ; 

The fields are rich wi* yellow corn- 
Red apples bow the tree ; 

The genty air, sae leddy like, 
Has on a scented gown ; 

And wi' an airy string she leads 
The thistle-seed balloon." 

Passing *' Humbie Brig," and the fine farm of Tit 
we soon arrive at the bleach work of Hazelden, whe 
cross to the south or Eaglesham side of the Earn. 


minutes' walk farther, during which we pass Hazelden Head, 
Hazelden Mains, and various other places with Hazelden 
prefixes, brings ns to the lands of North Moorhouse, the 
hirth-place of Robert Follok, the gifted author of Tht 
Cknme of Time, The banks of the stream are here of 
tli6 most beautiful description. On either side they rise, in 
softest yerdure, to a considerable height in natural terraces, 
some of which are scooped out into smooth green dells, with 
Aiegularity of outline which seems to be rather the produc- 
tion of art than of nature. This indentation, carpeted with 
konetail, which is known by the name of *^ Chaumer Braes,** 
loob as if it had been designed for a Covenanting place of 
^nnship. How beautifully adapted it is to be the local 
Ittbitation of such a group as the pencil of Harvey can so 
idl delineate! Or might it not rather be a meeting-place 
ibr the moonlight fairies, a fit spot for Oberon and Titania 
to hold their mimic court ? The thick-coming fancies of a 
Ifod Paton could not, I ween, be introduced on a more 
appropriately decorated stage. Here the youthful poet spent 
^ early days. When a wee, wee boy, our companion, his 
^les brother, has often taken him to these green and lonely 
^*M8 for company when watching his father's kine. Together 
^ have paidled in the stream which murmurs even now as 
••eetly as in other days at our feet; together they have 
8>tihered the wild flowers, which then, even as now, adorned 
^di^unny nook; and who can doubt that the scenery of this 
▼ery spot mingled in the heaven of his imagination, after- 
wards so beautifully depicted in the great poem which has 
"^me even as a household word in the religious homes of 
^country! Like Robert Nicoll, another true poet of the 
"il^de, he might well have said, — 

**I thonght the little burnie ran. 
And saner the while to me; 
To glad me, Howers came on the earth, 
o; And leaves upon the tree; 

And heather oa the moorlands grew, 
f< And tarns in glens did lie. 

Of beauteous things like these I dream'cd 
When I was herdin' fcye.** 



Bat let lis turn aside to jondei: knoll, fo visit the p 
favourite gowk (Anglice, cuckoo) stone. This w 
oua mnaa of granite, vrhcreon it was observed the cuckoo, 
its annua) mirations to the vale, loved to sit and pips' 
cheery but monotonous song. Here it was first seen in 
earlj summer by the neighbouring peasantry, and i 
when the " pea puts on its bloom," it chanted its femi 
strnin. Alaa ! alas ! it is rent and shivered now. We i 
not destined to witness it in its entirety. Two abort if 
since a bolt from on high nlighted upon the gowk stone, 1 
shattered it fearfiilly. Several maaaive fragments still nd 
the spot, but a, considerable portion bos been Ecattered, I 
chaff to the winds, by the resistless stroke of the lightni 
'Tis a. ''sorry sight" to our companion, who loved tbeM 
for ita association with memories of sweet langsynei and 
sympathizinglj assist him to gather the debris into its pll 
that the gonk in future springs may still continue to h 
the spot. 

Resuming onr walk by the Earn we encounf er two vot 
of the "gentle art," earnestly lashing the rippled I: 
the stream. "Well, what luck have ye had to-day, lad 
was our inquiry, after the usual compliments hod pas) 
" Oh, jist middlin'," was the reply of the foremost &K 
of old Izaak; "the water's ower clear an' the licht o 
strong the day for the hurn-trout." " We've had a via 
two, though," interposed the other, "and I daursayj 
we had twa-three worms, we miuht dae no that ill y 
Patience and hope are indeed necessary mental qualificati 
for successful angling. The weather, somehow or othei 
almost always adverse to the sport — at least if weareentii 
to form an opinion from the answers, evasive or apologeti 
which we have invariably received from the numerous pii 
tors encountered in our walks. A well-filled creel is a tl 
we have seldom or never seen. Yet hear the bum-d 
Munchnusens over their toddy, and miraculous indeed I 
r£c i/raugbtB vrhich tbey have one and rU biou^t t 


Well, well, it is doubtless a harmless hobby ; but how we 
biTe enjoyed the qniet meaning smile which has played over 
i ooDscioDS matron's features the while her lord and master 
us triumphantly recounting the number and weight of his 
ftmy captures ! 

Lnmediately after taking leave of the anglers, which we 
do with the expression of a hope that their sport may prove 
lietter fiirther down, we pass a little ford where the Moor- 
bnse people are in the habit of crossing the stream when 
■ikmg a *^ short cut" to the village of Meams. Many 
a time and oft the future poet has '* buckled his breeks " 
Hid forded the Earn at this spot, when on his way to school 
It the Earktoun. Here, also, it was that, in company with a 
oomm of his own, he concocted a notable scheme for out- 
fitting honest " unde Andrew," the particulars of which, as 
Aey exhibit the quiet humour of the youth, we may as well 
ttrrate. Andrew Pollok, a brother of the poet's father, and 
tiien, as now, tenant of North Moorhouse, had been troubled, 
itsppears, for some time with a pain in his back, and, com- 
plaining of it, was advised by some of the neighbours to take 
the doctor's breath on the subject. Outdoor wark, as it so 
Iiappened, was geyan thrang at the time, and it was not con- 
venient for the gudeman to go over to Meams in person. 
As young Robin Pollok and his cousin went daily to school 
at the village, however, it was settled that they should call 
on the medico, and get something from him to rub the place 
affected with the painful symptoms. Accordingly, having 
received their instructions and a small phial to bring the 
desired lotion, the two boys set out for school. Lingering 
at the ford, however, a notion struck the young poet (who, 
by the by, had then no love for doctors or their stuffs), that 
vrere they to fill the phial with the amber-colonrcd water of 
^e Earn, it would not only save them the trouble of going 
}ut of their usual course, but would perhaps be as effectual 
i cure to unde Andrew's back as anything in the shop of the 
tillage Escuhpias, On submitting the pro3ect lo \a& «c^Qa2^^ 


miEchievous cousin, he of course deelared it escellent, and 
« agreed that it shouid be put in practice. On re 
■a school, uccordinglj, the phial was filled, and cvefn; 
corked, ailer which it was placed in the hands of the e: 
tant patient. " An' what did the doctor say, callants, vh 
he gied ye this?" quoth the unsuapectiog uncle. "Oh,' 
jiat said ye were to keep your back close to the lire, and { 
the balsam weel ruhbit in till't," wsj the unhesitating rep' 
The prescription was immediately applied ; and whether bt 
the effects of imagination, or, aais more probable, from thi 
of the heat and friction combined, uncle Andrew at M 
declared that he felt considerably relieved. The mischiew 
urchins, who had been gravely watching the operation, ; 

Mr heard this, however, than with a glance at ea( 
they both burst into an uncontrollable lit of laughter, a 
tnnds with all speed for the door. Suspicion being m 
by thesu circumstances, an examination of the contenta 
the phial was instituted, when the trick mas discoTcn 
" Wait till I catcli the young scoondrela," says uni 
Andrew, who started up in wrath ; " Lod, I'U thraw tb 
necks for daurin' to roak' game o' me." They were of com 
e enough to keep out of his reach while the auger ct 
ttnucd, and, as his back was really the better of the opei 
a it had undergone, his temper wiu soon moDiHed, i 
I " twa Rabs " were again admitted to the old man's goi 

Proceeding onward, we shortly afterwards arrive at tl 
etnboachure of the Laoglee bum, a tributary of the Kai 
At Logan's Well, a short distance farther west, the 
whose course we have been pursuing divides into Bhickloc 
burn and Floak bum, its two principiU sources, and loses i 
distinctive name. We are now at the bead of the vale, t 
1 the very heart of the Mearns Moor. Around ua, 
every ude, a dreary eiipanae of brown heathy hills and da^ 
morasses stretches away to the horizon. Here and tbere^ 
^iF coaiparutiw]}' ftirtHe spots enliven the waste \ eoAh wit 


ft duster of ash trees, and a little wreath of blue smoke 
naridng the sites of the thin strewn pastoral farms. Yet 
tbere is a peculiar beauty in the wild landscape, all bleak and 
dnaiy ss it is. Ascending the heights of North Langlee, a 
quiet secluded farm, the peeseweep flutters round our head 
irith its plaintive cry, and the snipe starts from our path on 
it! tortuous flight ; while at our feet we have the meeting of 
tbe yarious waters which form the lovely Earn. The Black 
Loch, the Floak, the Lochcraig, the Wintry Wells, and the 
luiglee Bums, within the compass of a few acres, are seen 
toning and twining, each in its own little vale, as they sever- 
lOy hasten to the congregated stream in which they are so 
•ooa to lose their individual existence. " Frae a* the airts the 
^nnd'can blaw'' they seem to gush to this lovely tryst ; and, 
Hire gaze upon their rippled links, all glittering in the light 
cf the bright autumn sun, there is a pleasing harmony in the 
nnttic of their many waters. The age of kelpies is past, we 
ftir; but were it not so, we should almost expect to find 
<Ae of these water-demons lurking among the plashy nooks 
bdow our present position. If Dr. Jamieson^s description 
of the water-kelpie is true, however, we can very well dis- 
pense with his presence. Just fancy such a monster as the 
folbwing lines depict coming up that green dell : — 

" He rushes bare, and eeggn for hair 
Whaor ramper-eels entwined ; 
Of filthy gar his eehroos war, 
Wi' eaks and.horsegeils lined. 

*' And for his een wi* dowie sheen, 
Twa huge horse-mussels glared; 
From liis wide mou a torrent flew, 
And soop't his reedy beard. 

** Twa slauky stanes were his spule banes^ 
His brislcet braid a whin ; 
Ilk rib sa bare a skelvie skair, 
Ilk arm a monstrous fln. 

** He frae the wame a fish became, 
Wi' shells a' covered ower: 
And for his tall the grisly whale 
Could never match its power." 

A gruesome tyke, indeed, the kelpie must have been. At 
"enan Linn, where we now turn, however, we meet nothing 




EO dreadful. A delicious Utile picture it is, with its fovrrf 
of tea teeC or so, its deep dark pool below, and its fine be 
banks. Our fHeocI says it is jatit a Fall of Foyers i 
ture — a ataloment which we can neither controvert a< 
as we have never seen tbat most romantic of Highland I 
cades. But see ! tbere is the water-ousel, dUturbed by< 
presence, flitting awaf down the streani. A lonely m 
lovely little bird it is, haunting such scenes as this, and 
dom seen but by "untrodden ways." Oh that we had 
pencil of a Harvey, that we might delineate this picture] 
nook, and bear a reflex of its quiet loveliness to oui 
home! This may not he, however, and wherefore si 
we repine? It is already engraven tneftceably (W 
memory, and amidst the haunts of men and the with 
cares of life, it will be to us a solace and a joy ; for trui 

•• A tiling of beautj in A jof for ever." 

Turning eastward, and passing the North and ! 
Lnnglees, a brief walk brings us to South Moorhouae, 
residence during youth and the greater portion of the ' 
period of manhood allotted to him on earth, of Robert Po 
It is an ordinary farm -steading, no way dietingnishab 
appearance from the other establishments ofa similar ni 
scattered over the moor. The bnildinga are plain, 
storeyed edifices, and consist of the usual " but-and-b 
for the accommodation of the farmer's family, with b 
byres, milkhouses, &c To the west of the bouse is a ga 
screened on three sides by a belt of trees, all planted 
understand, by the poet's father, with the exceptioi 
tall ashes, which, with an elm unfortunately blown d 
some years since, have stood there from time immei 
To these the poet in his great work makes afliiut 
allusion, in the following Unes : — 

■ Id \be nieht 

It WHS at South MoorhouBQ that The Oiarss of Time 
; and on expressing a desire to ace the room in 
Bieh the poet sat when engaged in the work of coropoH- 
t, we are considerably shocked on being ahoiru inCo a 
U now occapied as a stable. This in former times was 
I " Bpence ; " bnt on a strange tenant coming to the farm, 
16 seven or eight years ago, he took op bis residence in 
>ther part of the eatablishnient, and turned his horses into - 
U bad previously been the haunt of the Muses. Tliia a 
tlly too bad and most certainly evinces a aad deficiency of 
te somewhere. Surely such a spot, hallowed as it is by 
most interesting assoi^tions, might well have been 
)ted to nobler uses. Every season the iame of Pollok 
icta numerous visitors to Moorhause ; and there is some- 
ng absolutely humiliating in the idea that the very scene 
ih is perhaps most intimately associated nith his memory 
1 be thns degraded. We nevertheless linger for a 
uiderable time within the predncts of the apartment, 

ourselves the pale student over the midnight 

\ pving " a local habitation and a name " to the bright 

u which bis teeming imagination so abundantly bodied 

lu In this corner stood the little table on vi^hich he 

te, and which had to be altered to suit his sore breast, 

rnen then death was wrestling with him. Oilen during 

e progress of the work he required to pause from sheer 

ir bodily weakness, when with a sigh he would gaze 

■t of this little window on the silent hills, or take a short 

eighbouring height, to inhale the free winds as 

T came fresh and cool from tlie bosom of his beloved 

Alaa I his was a melancholy fate. In the hour of 


hope, when fortune was just beginning to amile upon S 
prospects, Ke nas strlckeii down. In tlie Bume year he v 
orduined to the ministry, published lus great poem, h 
died. The completion of hia work waa indeed the signal i 
hia departure. We may mention that some kind hand hi 
planted an ivj at ine door of the poet's study, and that 
it creeping with its green leaves over the lowly wall. 
pull a aprig from it as a memorial of our visit, on til 
lesve of the spot. 

From the braes in the vicinity of South MoorhouM 
extensive and beautiful prospect of the country for n) 
miles around is obtained. One commanding height, C*]l 
the Head of the Moyle, brings at a glance the whole fam 
■ of the Earn, from Waterfbot to Logan's Well, before i 
apectator's eye, with North Moorhouse, the poet's birthpll 
and South Moorhouse, the residence of his early years. Hi 
It was proposed fo erect a monument to hie memory, i 
certainly a more appropriate site could not have been aeleel 
for the purpose. We trust, for the honour of Scotland, tl 
the scheme may be yet accomplished. Aller lingering U 
for some time, we visit North Moorhouse, the scena ol 
poet's birth. It is situated on an eminence which si 
beautifully downwards to the margin of the Earn. It i 
low thatched edifice, resembling considerably the " auld ( 
biggin' " on the banks of Doon, where Bums made his a 
into the light of this nether world. The farm connib 
ftbout 100 acres, and was rented by the poet's father from 
Earl ofEglinton. Bobert PoUok was bom here ii 
On our arrival at the door we are warmly received bj 
couple of sagacious collies, who are evidently not m 
accustomed to the visitations of strangei's, and ar 
quenlly exceedingly desirous of making an acquaintnncai 
oar nether extremities. We keep them at bay, howB 
with the aid of our trusty hoitel, nntil a young female du 
her appearance from the interior, when we are speedily, 
Jjsred trom that bouteroua attentions, and at onoe ini 


ta " come ben." The picture that presents itself to our gaze on 
entering would delight a Landseer. The apartment is a perfect 
iDodel of the cone auld warld Scottish farmer^s ha\ A large 
fire-place projects from the wall, over which is suspended an 
inmiense cauldron simmering on a blazing peat-fire. Around 
tbe sides and against the rafters are nung fowling-pieces, 
fiihbg-rods, and a variety of agricultural implements ; while 
tables and chairs of venerable fashion are scattered in 
picturesque confusion athwart the floor. Our friends the 
ooUies— their passion having rapidly subsided — are already 
disposing themselves in attitudes of gracefulness and ease in 
their accustomed nooks beside the ingle, while a sedate cat 
i>C(»nposedly washing her face in the winnock bole. 

On explaining our errand, we are civilly requested by the 
girl to step into the spenoe, where we are shown the " very 
bedstead" in which the poet was born. The chamber has 
l^een but little altered since the event which gave to Scotland 
ttother child of song. We need scarcely say that we inspect 
the place with feelings of no ordinary description. Follok^s 
ToiMo/^e Covenanters were among our earliest Sabbath- 
'ckol prizes, and their perusal was to us a source of deep and 
tearful interest. The Course of Time in after years, despite 
^ gloomier features, we read with anything but a limited 
degree of admiration ; v/hile the sad fate of the bard, struck 
down in the very noon of hope, and long ere the noon of 
^ lends a tragic hue to his memory which but the more 
*rfears it to our heart. Yet somehow we cannot associate 
*he bard with the humble apartment of his nativity. It is 
too "cabined, cribbed, confined;" and our fancy keeps 
^dering away to the realms beyond the Course of Time 
^ich he has so powerfully and vividly described, and in 
which alone his imagination had " ample scope and verge 
enough " for its due exercise. PoUok died of consumption 
• Millbrook, Southampton, in the twenty-ninth year of his 
*ge. He was buried at the locality where he died, and the 
place which knew him once shall know him no more for ever, 

— — ^ - -— - 


althcmgh for his sake it will long be Tinted and venerated, 
the pensive rambler. 

Leaving Moorhouse we croas the Earn, and proceed 
Hazeldenhead, the residence of our obliging £nend, A 
Pollok, where we are indeed meet hoepitably reoaved 1 
his good lady, and lAere, after our devious pilgrimage, i 
certainly do ample justice to the good things set betbre » 
The sun is setting in the ruddywest before we tear ouwhc 
away, but a lippin* " doch-an-dhoria ** from the hand of on 
kindly hostess sends us lightly on our homeward path ; iw 
passing by the fine hamlet of Meams Kirk to GlaxkBtoa tM 
Cathcart, we arrive within the smoky predncts of the eit] 
just as the stars are beginning to twinkle over the dazkenii( 
world below. 



**Kow vestlin' winda and daagtatering gans 

Bring Autnmn*8 pleasant veather, 
Tlie moircock rorings on vhirring wings 

Amang the blooming heather; 
Kow waving grain wide o'er the plain 

Delights the weary &nner, 
And the moon shines hriRht, as I rove at night 

To moae upon, my charmer.**— Bdbk& 

low rapid are the steps of the year, and how marked with 
Mnge ! Every footfall is on a new flower, every succeeding 
Jwce is greeted with a fresh mutation of scene. Gray 
Winter unfolds his mantle of gloom, and forth cometh with 
wshine and song the gentle young Spring. April and 
fay, her lovely handmaidens, with leaves and flowers adorn 
ie earth, and pass away; while June, the golden- sceptred, 
*lb athwart the gowany meads and the waving brairds, to 
- followed in turn by the eldest bom of Summer, rosy 
■Jy, with his burning radiance bleaching the new-mown 
^y, and bringing the rich russet hue of ripeness to the 
"Uspering grain. Next cometh August, a mature and 
Wely matron, bidding us "lift up our eyes and behold 
►w the fields are already white unto the harvest." Sep- 
•Jiher, full-handed and crowned with mellowing fruits, 
^ads close upon her heels, to give place in turn unto the 
W October, with his "coat of many colours," which "chill 
ovember's surly blast " rends pitilessly from his shoulders, 
iving pale nature once more drapeless and cold in the 
'fn embrace of the Frost King. Ai\o>i?iafeT caO^*^ Sa ^^\sw- 
'^ecj anotber span of our allotted -piii^rixMt^tiSaTsvfcX.^^^^ 


unto UG ; and, looking mournfully back on the days we bftvt 
wasted or misspent, we ask in weary bitterness of hesrt, " b 
another of our jeurs really dead?" 

There ara few localities in Ite ticinitj- of our cilj' whii* 
will more abundantly repay n -viat from the rambler tins 
the vale of the LeTSm and the adjacent country. If oV 
readers have any cloabts of the fact, let them favour us mil! 
their company this beautiful autumnal day, and ve W 
mistaken if^ at its close, they are not eCeutuall/ 
Let TIB be supposed then us starting on our way M 
terminus of the Glasgow and Barrhead Railway. The 
is in waiting, the engine in harness, giving on impitioi 
BnorC now and then, ns if eager for the journey, irhile tli 
guards and other oiBcials are running to and Iro as if tin 
hud an overwhelming amount of business on hand, and » 
afraid they would never be able to aecompUeh it before 
ringing of the decisive " third bell." It ia all make-bcliW 
however 1 passengers come slowly in, and one can see <d 
glance that the fellows cimld easily, and we doobt not ihU 
willingly, manage double the trnthc that posses along lb 
quiet yet beautiful and well-managed little lini 
man," who comes in puffing and blowing at a furious rail 
having at length taken bis seat and commenced wiping ll 
reeking and high-coloured visage, there is a slamming 
doors, a cry of "all right," a ehrill whistle, and we I 
rushing away as if on the wings of the wind, among H 
dewy fields. We speedily pass Strathbungo, Campltt 
Crossniyloof, and the wood-crowned heights of Langai 
llaggs Castle, dreary even in the level radiance of momin] 
goes Hitting past, frowning amidst its cncirclini 
surrounding landscape. 

Passing Pollokshawa and the wide-spreading policies i 

Sir John, the country opeua finely to our view, presentu 

a gently undulating suriiice, covered with lusuriunt cro| 

«»(/ sfuiided with geathmen's seats and comfortable fiim 

'/iffti with here and tiiere a taU c^unwej ^ennQ 


ifflidst the Terdant fields, and indicating that the riches 
of the coantry are not confined to its surface. I^icaving 
Kinnishead, where the train rests a few moments, and 
lookmg westward, we obtain a view of " Crookston Castle^s 
wined wa'," towering in the distance, and calling to remem- 
hemix the story of Scotia's fdr ill-fated queen, the beautiful 
Harjr of manj sorrows. Ere we have time to heave a sigh, 
however, over the sad assodations of the scene, the unsym- 
pitbizing and most unsentimental engine i^hirls us past 
tiie red hills of the Hurlet, amid sights and scents unholy, 
past Nitshill, with its quarries, coal-pits, and belching 
idvmes of smoke, and about half-an-hour afler starting, 
depofflts us safely at Grahamstone, a clean and tidy-looking 
nlmrb of Barrhead, nestling finely at the base of the 
Fereneze Braes, and overlooking a picturesque sweep of the 
Bnnnuring Levem. 

The village of Barrhead is entirely of modern origin, 
hmg sprung into existence subsequently to, and in a great 
measure in consequence of, the establishment of manufactures 
on the Levem. Within the memory of persons still living 
tliere was scarcely a single house on the site of this now 
exten^ve and thriving community. The first printfiold was 
erected at Fereneze in 1773 ; the first bleachfield about the 
nme time; and the first cotton mill (which was also the 
•econd in Scotland) at Dovecothall in 1780. Since that 
period the public works have gradually increased in number, 
nntil now the Levem and several tributary streamlets are 
Wded, as it were, with industrial establishments. No other 
water in Scotland of anything like equal dimensions, we verily 
believe, contributes nearly so much to the manufacturing 
prosperity of the country, as does the Levem in its short 
course of some six or seven miles. A sadly tortured stream- 
let it is, in truth. What with dams, and lades, mill-wheels 
and colouring matters of every hue, with which its bosom is 
^ted and stained at every turn, it has really a pitiable 
common-sewer aspect by the time it gets 8iiea)sli\^ voX^ \}gl<^ 


Curt beyond Crooliston. Its pollution, honever, ia sisOL'! 
witb the proapcrit; of the Barrhead people, Tliwr pi 
fields, factories, and bUacbSelds, are dependent on i 
orTginall/ pellucid waters, and without tbcm their " 
and fall" would speedily be consumtnated. Long, thewftl 
m&j it continue a trilling and useful drud^ I Lnckiidaial 
pocta may whine oyer the decay of Bentinient, and pfflli 
pamtera maunder about the destruction of the beautifid; t 
to our mind the most interesting of Etreaiaa is that on I 
banks of wUcb exists an industrious, a comfortable, u 
intelligent population. 

Barrhead is composed of a cocgeriea of villages o 
south aide of the Levern, to which they are all less or 
contiguous, and bearing respectively tbe names of Barrhsl 
Newton, Ralston, Dovecotboll, fee. These divisions u 
locally known, however, and indeed, properly speaking, (I 
now form but one united community, and are generally ki 
under the collective name of Barrhead, a designation don 
from a, certain farm which formed the site of the e 
built bouses in the locality. The village consists printdpl 
of one street, running from east to west, and about h '" 
mile in length, with a number of irregular and stra) 
offihoots. The houses are for the most part plain t 
8tor<i)'ed edifices, without the slightest pretensions to ai 
tural elegance. They have generally a snug, comfbrti 
look, however, and in the rear of the majority wc 
to observe a well-stocked kailyard, with abundance of an 
headed greens, and a proportionate quantity of leeki I 
onions. Many of the shops would not discredit Glasgow 
Paisley. There are no fewer than four places of w 
tbe village— namely, one connected with the Establiahroi 
a Free, and a United Presbyterian, while a Roman CaUM 
chapel crowns a rising ground in the outsidrts. 
seem, therefore, that the spiritual wants of the inhabit* 
ore by uo means inadequately provided for. In the n 
iar of^aiunatiea for the instruction of the ri^g ( 


I, also, the supply, as ire underatand, ia anytUng bill 
fective. One of tliese, the Boiirock Sctool, a BpacioUB 
(1 welt-aired npartment, sbundsntl}- fumisbed with tlie 
us and appliHiiUBB of juvenile tuition, ttb viti'it, and are 
Billy gratified by llie aptitude uud proficiency manifested 
Be various classes under the judicious uianagenient of 
BSend, Mr. John Murray, teacher of the fstahliHlimenl. 
"» the machinery far the intellectual improvement of the 
A population defective. We observe several shops for 
e sale of books and periodicals, and we leum that for many 
en a Mechanics' Institution has maintaauod a compnra- 
"ely vigorous and healthy existence in the village. Under 
I efficient management of u committee composed ptiuui' 
Uy, if not entirely, of intelligent artisans, the institution, 
its interesting annual courses of lectures on science and 
nature, wbieh are generally well attended, must undoubt- 
\j be instrumental in the diffusion of many useful and 
blag influences among the operatives of this important 
ilfict. The library of the Levern Mechanics' Institution, 
catalogue of which tee had lately the pleasure of iiispect- 
;, is really one of a highly valuable character. It contfuns 
Ogetber ubout fifteen hundred volumes in the various de- 
rtments of literature, science, and art, among which are 
my of the works of our best modem authors. Among the 
apt additions we may mention Dr. \\il3on's PrehUtonc 
Mb, MocBulay'a Easayi, Hanna'a Life of Chalmers, and 
bnm's Biography of Jeffrey. Of a truth we live in a 
■Mlons age. Think of such productions, even as they 
oe from the press, circulating in the houses of our 
'rking men, ye sceptics of human progress! and acknon- 
Ige the fidhicy of your misgivings. "The world still 
with Galileo of old (though in a different 
I, let the misanthrope and the doubter murmur as 
"I have taken note of it," says the roj-al 
age is grown so picked, lUat Aa tiie ^ ■*« 
3 near the heeV of \te MjMt<\cv, 

«t ^jOHk J 


(jalli Lis kibe." What would Iluinlet have Mid bud i* 
lived in our Jnjl 

Of courM tliere ore other aspecte in whieh we might l«i 
at Burrliend, TLere are no lack of public-hoiisea ofliigb 
■nd low degree in the village, most of which look a* if thtf 
did a pretty fiiir stroke uf busineJB, Aoything but u 
encouraging symptom we mast admit this to be. Sdll,ll* 
Barrheodiana — wlnit a name!— do not seem in this reip«« 
to be " ony waur tiian their neebora." On a Suturdaj ni^ 
of coarse, there ib occaaionally a, gpree; but the Btrongm- 
fiuioQ of pugnacious Iriah blood itmong the populitCion, «>II 
easily ac^^ount for thia fact; while the abaenue of a pi'i^ 
poU(.-B force leaves riotously inclineil parues in a great idm^ 
lire to the freedom of their own will. The narviea, indeed 
wiio are the principal ofiendera in tbia respect, and lAi 
revel in the Donnybrook license accorded to them, ue tit 
unfreqiiently heard to apostrophize the village affectioniKlX 
as "Sweet little Barrhead! where there's never a Jul n* 
police-office." 1 he quiet and orderly inhabitants, howeiSt 
who fortunately form an overwhelming majority, ore doslK' 
less tempted occasionally to wish that they had rather a "jJ 
or a poUce-offiuo " among them, for the purpose of ket^ 
these miachief-loTiTig vagabonda in due subordination. It& 
said that midnight rows have become much less freqiW 
since the establishment of a B.oman Catholic priest id M 
locality a few years since. If this is really the raise, B i 
but fiiir that his reverence should receive due credit ti' 
peacemaker. Would that the priestly influences wereneM 
directed to tho furtherance of less beneficial purposes! 

In the vicinity of Barrhead there are a number of haiHl 
some mansions, generally surrounded with umbrageous liiB 
ber, pleasure groanda, and gardens. Among these we tat 
mention Treea, the residence of James M'CuUoch, Es(' 
situated on a gentle declivity of the braes ; Ferenezs Hot* 
tie aviit of John Graham, Esq. of Fcrenei* and Gtu^lin 
md Actiarlee Boim, the eeat of WiMiam 1 

1 LMnwte^ 


i little to the eastward of the village, on the north bank of 
he Levem also, there are the remains of an ancient keep, 
Balled " Stewart^s Rais," or more frequently by the inhabi- 
tants, " the anld Tower.'' This relic of antiquity is now in a 
ndly dilapidated condition, and seems fast hastening to utter 
destruction. It is quadrangular in form, and the massive 
iralls, which are now shattered and crumbling, have been 
endently at one period of great strength. A strong arched 
loof, which fi^rmerly spanned a chamber in the interior, was 
demolished at no very distant date, along with certain por- 
tioDs of the exterior walls, for the purpose of erecting an 
e£fioe in the -ricinity. Extremely little is to be learned 
cither from history or tradition concerning this structure. 
Aooording to Crawfurd, the quaint old historian of Renfrew- 
ihire, it formerly belonged to a family named Halrig, a 
IvBDch of the house of Damley ; and he mentions that he had 
leea an antique charter, of date 1484, whereby the lands of 
Balrig and Rais were granted to Alexander Stuart, upon the 
resignation of his father. Hector Stuart, by John, Lord 
I)amley and Earl of Lennox. At what period it passed from 
Its former lords we cannot now ascertain; but in recent 
^nes it has more than once changed proprietors. None 
of these parties, however, seem to have taken any special 
<*re of the " auld Tower.'* As the sole relic of bygone days 
^luch the village can boast, we should certainly have im- 
agined that parties connected with the locality would feel an 
interest in its preservation from impending destruction. This 
does not, we regret to say, appear to be the case, and in all 
P^bahility, ere many years have elapsed, this ancient home 
^^B haughty Stuarts will be numbered among the things 
that were. 

Leaving Barrhead in a south-easterly direction, we now 
Proceed towards a curious basaltic hill, called " the Craig of 
Camock," situated about a mile and a-half from the village* 
^ coui:se lies through a pleasaut cownVf^ ^^i5^^ *xss>Si^ 
^iWD hedgerows, belts and clumps oi '^\axiXlvcv^> «».^ Ssstf^^ 

fioliis, the cereal coverings of wliich, " a' failing green uil 
yelloir" ia the rich radiance of an autumnal da^, are rustling 
•weetly in the westlln' breeze. The waysides alao tit 
fiinged with indigenous bloom— the purple- tufted Tetob, flu 
golden bed-straw, and the fragrant meadow-queen— wiill 
at intervals the wild rasplmahes, adorned with their ctjuibM 
herries, offer a tempting refreshment to the passing bird, and attract from time to time the attention of little 
bare-footed ramblers from the neighbouring, village. "R* 
time of roses is past, bnt the hips and the haws will soon pt 
00 their "red, red coats;" the coral hesds aro even noffia 
clusters on the drooping mountain ash, while the brwailK 
trails over every ditcb with its delicious load of fiist-pniplinj 
fruit. Well doea the light-hearted sehool-boy love the ron^- 
stummed bramble, with its jetty bunches creeping overtlw 
waste ; and often, in sunny days of yore, have our fingoi 
and lips known the stain of its juicy blobs, when in javeaill 
raids from the town. 

As we gradually ascend, see how piotuvesquely varied di6 
surface of the surrounding country becomes. Now wfl hs^ 
a gray lichened crag cropping onl with its crown of hMth" 
and tangled foliage ; now we have a little runlet jmkiifl 
among the seggana, and sin^ng a sweet undersong U i* 
steals down its liny glen ; and auon we have a rar-stretcho^ 
landscape, with yellow slopes, " like golden shields flBnS 
down from the sun," in the foreground, and high toweiuS 
hills beyond. But now, brown Carnoi/k, like a couohMlt 
lioB, appesii to our left, and we must turn aside to placeoU* 
-J&o^ iipoa his head. 



' have we here ns ng aa f to nter ] t our fii tl r 
pfoTresa? This is GlandersCon House formerly a se t of 
itu Mures of Caldwell and st H Ithough for ma j eara 
iltserted by its lords not unworthy as vou will perce e of 
ii leisurely inspect on So here bj tie ara-s grown "ate 
Itl HI for a few minutes give ourselves pause, while we en- 
tavour to summarize its story. 

"In this parish of Neilaton," nays old Crawfurd, writing 
M 1710, "is Glanderston, the residence of William Mure, 
opon a email rivalet, adorned with regular orchards and 
'arge meadows, beautified with a grent deal of regular and 
'■eantiful planting. The house was of an old model, which 
the preaent generation thought fit lo demolish, and in place 
of the old one hath, raised a pretty house of a new model, 
*ilh several well-finished apartments." The lands of Glan- 
'Icrslon, as we learn from the same authority, were conferred, 
;ii 1607, by Matthew, first Earl of Lennox, upon his brother, 
■lobn Stewart, from the family of whom they passed, by 
tturiage, into the possession of John Mure of Caldwell, who 
dieposed of them to his hrother-german, William Mure, in 
1561. The house and lands of Olanderston, subsequently to 
•rfnrd's time, passed into the possession of a gentleman 
d Wilson, en eccentric personage, of whom tradition 
i certain rather discreditable memorials. An 
« may he narrated. It is said that Mr. Wilson, who 

■ professed Episcopalian, on first coming to reside on 
[tato, called his domestic servants together one evening 
[B purpose of reading prayers according to the formnla 
t English Church. Xt is well known that the Scotch 

fctry have a peculiarly strong repugnance to prayers 

■ are not of an estemporaneous nature. Accordmgly 
■nusual service was scarcely commenced by the master 
l»housebold(who,hy the by, was supposed, uncharitably 

o be rather the waur o' the wee drap at the time), 
k certain whisperings and au^TCsaed. \\\S.criw^ -wct^ 
WttnoDg (be audience. Mr. ^V■i\aoIl^■^^lO**^^*'^¥^"''*''°* 




dnjthing but apostolic, paused, and with on eye of tn 
looked around, when of course every fiice was at once eratiwl 
into an enpreaaion of the most rigid gravrtj- and demureMO. 
Suppressing his passion at the nnseemly intemiplion, heagM 
prooeeded, without audible remark, with his devotiwa. 
Before he had uttered half a dozen sentences, howerer.tlie 
smothered laughter broke out more loudly than baforr- 
This was too much for the excitable laird. Up he got "ItB 
a prophet in drink," as Bums has it, flung the prayer-boolt 
to the wall, and casting a withering scowl on the now terrified 
domeadca, burst out into a torrent of profanity, denounced 

those present na a pack of graceless , and declared Ibi? 

might all go to the for him, as he would never prayte 

a single soul of them again, " This unchristian reaolution,'' 
said our informant, a venerable old dame, "the thoch^M 
cat-witted body atuck till like a bur, and ye may gueaa llat 
nne gudc cam o't. He took soir to the dram, fell ioto 
struts, sell't his property to Mr. Speira o' EHerslie, whOM 
family ha'e been ever sin syne in the lairdship o't ; sndit'l 
said," conKnued our somewhat garrulous authority, "tils' 
he afterwards dee't in the Gorbals o' Glasgow, no wilhori 
folk Huspeckin', however, Gude forgi'e us ! that he had \xA 
hauns on himael'." 

A century and a-half have not passed without mBkJng 
alterations for the worse on what Cranfiird calls thft 
"pretty house of a new model," and its adjuncts. Ths 
edifice is still entire, and with a somewhat auld warld aspect 
maintains an air of picturesque dignity, with its craw-stepped 
gables and windows, surmounted with peaked entablatures. 
Over several of the windows alluded to the date 
appears, with the initials T.W. and W.M. elegantly carved 
in the dark stone. The orchards are no more ; but a coai 
uderable portion of the fine old trees, including a stat^ 
avenue of beech, still adorn the vicinity. Where the i' 
formerly meandered an extensive (lain is now formed 
Me all, ia oar opinion, to the disadvantage of t\«. \B»4ac*g« 



it tnaj have tended to the obliteration of it.i 
iiiaent chamcteristica. 

Wp may mention, before leaving Glandtrston, that the 
lionje has got ratlier a dubious name among the (country 

t around. For some years it was totally uninhabited, 
ch time it was, in appcaranec, dreary and desolate 
extreme. Latterly it bae been partially occupied 
ions parties ; but it has been rumoured that " stmnge 
Daises" have been &om time to time heard by the rexideuts 
"ilhin ita gloomy weIIb. One nervous Indy who resided 
for same months in the ediSce was in the habit of 7:iiting 
"nMe in the aflernoons, afraid to venture within until 
SMompiinied by her husband, in whose presence his ghoat- 
ihip did not, it seems, choose to indulge in any of bis Qoby 
pnnks. A gamekeeper now resides on the premiaes, a 
'•orn foe to " vermin and treapaaaers" of all descriptions, 
"'e we not awitre whether spirits of misi^hief belong to 
BT of thesQ classca ; but vre are inclined to suspect they 
B fact that not one of them has dared to show 
« inside, by night or by day, since the burly individual 
id to has taken up hia quarters there. 

it of Glanderston, and in its immediate neigh- 

" the Craig of Cnrnock" — a detached hillock of 

Ic formation — presenting a sort oT /ac-HniUe. in miuia- 

" " Arthur's Seat." From certain points of view it has 

lely similar resemblance to a lion crouching prepara- 

» the fatal spring. Up this romantic eminence we 

r toilsome way, and in a ftw minutes reauh its 

tnding Eummit. Here there is a species of chair or 

B, formed by nnture in the solid rock, and popularly 

" Queen's Seat," from a tradition thai the beau- 

I Mary on one occasion rested on the spot. Being 

" forfoughten " with our speel, we make no stand 

ore of ceremony whatever, but plump ourselves 

Bdown into the royal resting-place, ii. tt^ i{^iii>ifB». 

tsourgaze. At our fce^.'iaan.aXi.-Vj^ai.'swa!!. 



fHrm-slciuJing, where cattle are finely grpupi-d aroimd i 
door, and where 

" Hfna lb tbfl midden, docks In dubi are 1eeii»" 
Stmtcbing anay to tlie eastward is the undulating 
of the Menms, witii the parish church and the old I 
rising amidst a Tcry sea of wavy knolls. Turning t 
north we hnve thu reservoirs of the Gorbnia Grant 
Company majiped before us, with Upper Pollok 
from ils girdle of leaves, and far over the amoke of 
good town, the felU of Cauipsie looldug blue in the i 
Barrhead, Neilston, and the vale of Levem, with the sm 

oor throne and gradually turn from the westward towi 
the south. Nor is the summit of the Craig unworthy 
attentive inspection. ,At one place the colamna of hM 
projecting from the soil, and strewn in jiondi 
around, bear a striking reseinblance to a Druidical d 
One vast and somewhat regularly formed mass might 
aeem a rude altar designed for direst snerifice. The iB] 
sion that pagan rit£s may have been celebrated here isH 
what strengthened by the remains of a green 
which is evidently of artificial origin, and which may beea 
traced for some distance around the spot. Let some of 
archieologists visit the Craig by all means, and inveitigit 
the matter. 

Making our descent by the southern end of the Cnugi 
where, on the steep declivity, there ia a perfect stream, •< 
it were, of rocky frngmenls, confusedly hurled from thB 
impending brow by the decomposing elements, and pasHSg 
round the margin of the looh-like dam, we now direct oor 
steps through the fields towards NeilstoD Fad, which, Uke ft 
vast pillion (whence its name), rises to the horizon before ni. 
Passing Bumiide Farm, where the members of the 
ment — young and old, collie and all~are busy with thtur 
hay-harvest, and where we are regaled with a bow! of coM 
D/Mi by the gaucy ^odewife; and by Muiihead, -vhero w< 


are greeted by the house-dog^s honest but ratber annoying 
bark, and along a delicious flower-fringed field- path, familiar 
to oar tread in other days, we arrive at the farm-house of 
Snipes, nestling near the foot of the lolly Pad. 

At the base of the Pad there is an immense mass of trap, 
■any tons in weight, half-embedded in the soil, and evidendy 
precipitated at some former period from the rugged cli£i 
above. There is also a rimilar ponderous fragment beneath 
tbe western brow of Camock. In accordance with that 
rtrong tendency to myth-manufacture which exists in the 
Bnnds of the Scottish peasantry, we have of course a legend 
regarding the masses of rock alluded to. It is briefly as 
follows: — ^In those days when there were giants in the land 
(a period of which chronology mifortunately takes no cogni- 
aaace), two of these Titanic gentlemen resolved to have a 
trial of strength. The test agreed upon was " throwing the 
stone,** an exercise at which, being Caledonian giants, they 
vere probably both proficients. Accordingly, one took his 
stand on Camock, and raising a huge rock, hurled it with 
mch force that it alighted at the very foot of the Pad, which 
may be about a mile and a-half distant. This, it must be 
conceded, was a pretty fair throw, and sufficient to take the 
sliine out of any ordinary opponent. Nothing daunted, 
Wever, the other gigantic competitor walked leisurely to 
tlie summit of the Pad, and tearing a vast piece firom the 
cliff, poised it for a moment on his upraised arm, and pitched 
^ with such force that it fairly cleared the Craig of Car- 
Qock, and fell on the farther side, where it still remains as 
a weighty testimony of his superior prowess, and a striking 
proof of the degeneracy into which the people of modern 
tifflea have fallen. 

Leaving the Giant^s Stone, we now ascend the Pad by a 
Qrcuitous path which slopes gradually upwards to the sum- 
mit, which is about 800 feet above the level of the sea. In 
Porm the Pad is a spacious table-land, somewhat quadran- 
^lar in shape, with steep precipitous sides, wbick oc^ ^^jc^-^ 



covered with 8, dense bosl^ wood, and partly wUb ■ dow 
velvety sward, fretteii with projptling erngs, and intarsMled 
by sheep-walks. From its elevation and its isolated positiwii 
tUe Pad commands a aeries of delightful prospects. Ifloloiif 
southwDrd we have the bl^ak expanse of the Mearns Mmt. 
with here and there A solitary farm-house; vhile the long 
locb, treeless and bore, lies glittering among the rtreai? Ii3k 
This lonely moorland loch is tlie birthplace of the LvtUI, 
■which is seen meandering in its downward course towaris 
the scene of its labours in the vale below. To the Bontb-, 
west, through a fine opening in the hilla, the spectator I»e! 
wide tract of Ayrshire spread before him, with the Amffl 
monntains and the rock of Ailsa in the distance. Th( 
s^la of passing vessels and the dark balls of stately steamaii 
with their smoky trails, ftoatiTig far over the blue waturt 
are disUnctly visible; while to the north and eastoi 
the Ytllages of Neitston and Barrhead, the town of Pwileft 
and our own cloud-capp'd eity, with the wide basin of 
Clyde, bounded by the fiir mountains of the Highltnd* 
Every change of posiljon, indeed, brings a new picture 
view, while each succeeding one seems to surpass its prede 
cesBors in variety, grandeur, and loveliness. But pen ' 
pencil would fail to convey even the faintest conception' 
the landscape-features visible from the Pad, so we mnat efl 
leave the ima^nation of the reader to complete the ontJin 
of the sketch we have so imperfectly indicated. I 
summit of the Pad has charms of its own, independcuU; ' 
the picturesqne. Aa we linger on the spot we see the 
hare hirplin' past, and the partridges in whirring cove 
circling round. The wheat-ear, that beauteous haunter 
lonely places, flits before us as we move; and see, amOl 
the crimson bells of the heather, now in its prime, the n 
of a mosscbeeper, with five wee gaping gorlins clad id pi 
dock hair. What a cosia beild is theirs, with it-s sereea 
rich red bJossomsI The parent bird, with a chirp of mad 
■iw/ aoxiety, keeps hoveling near, as we ^inttg \a 


.ion oyer her helpless little ones. Poor thing ! thou 
cause to fear that we will harry thy lowly home. 
le seen the day, indeed, when our hand knew not 
^ards the wild bird's treasure, but that was long ago 
honghtless boyhood. We have since learned mercy 
>wn bereavement, and we would address thee, lovely 
itterer of the waste, in the words of one who dearly 
ich harmless creatures as thou art, — 

**rm tralv sorry man's dominion «- 

Has broken nature's social union, 
And justifies the 111 opinion 

Tbat mak's thee startle 
At me, thy poor earth-bom companion. 

And fdlow-mortal.** 

-thee-weU, wee birdie ! and may neither cruel hawk 
3- footed urchin invade thy little chamber of bloom. 
) approach a nook 

" Where the blaeberries grow 
'Mang the bonnie bloomiu' heather," 

are at once upon our knees. How delicious are the 
e blueish-purple berries of this lowly bit bussie, and 
3 have them in gowpens I Of a truth this is the 
of our indigenous wild fruits, so pleasant is it both 
md palate. Many and many a sunny hour have we 
reekit upon the heather, prying among the myrtle- 
res for the purple beads ; but never have we found 
Dre abundant than here. Should the linnet come to 
-same bush we are afraid he would dine but sparely, 
s still plenty for bird and body, however ; so, with 
ed lips, we tear ourselves away from the table which 
) so opportunely found furnished for our refreshment 
vrildemess. The acid juice of the sourock removes 
ns incarnadine from lips and fingers; and, nothing 
kle, we descend on Neilston. 

village of Neilston is finely situated on the brow of 
e eminence, overlooking a considerable expanse of 
. It is a compact, neat, and mVii^X ^waKSR^wa^ ^3^- 
d little township, with few featxaea c«i5Xav^^^"^ ^Y^"^^ 


19Q BAnnnEAD ash keilstom. 

remark. Wbile Barrhead has been going a-head, KhIsIm 
bus remained comparativelj- stationary. The houses ar 
the moBt part plain two-storeyed edifices, some of nhiclibiTI 
evidently stood the tear and wear of many years. ITicreB 
B considerable number of sliops of various descripfeal 
Bome ofwhiuh are large and showy, but the majority h»K 
an old world aud decidedly village aspect. The cbuicb,.! 
handsome edifice with an elegant spire, was erected in 17SS 
on the site of a more ancient ecclesiastical structure, oi 
the Gothic windows of which, however, has been preserved 
and now forms the principal adornment of Jta less pretendiiij 
successor. Since the period of its erection the chm^ lu 
undergone various alterations and repairs, and jnd^ng &<■ 
outward inspection seoma to be now in escellent conditio! 
The church-yard is a spacious ares, nnd contaii 
headstones and monumental atritetures, none of which, tow 
ever, strike us as being in any way remarkAble. On tl 
occasion of a dispute in 1826 between the heritors of 4 
parish and the poorer class of the parishioners on the eubje^ 
of church aecommodiition, Dr. Fleming, the late miniil 
preached for eight successive years, summer and winteTi 
this church-yard. During this time an expensive i 
annoying litigation was carried on between the partis 
which ultimately terminated, as is generally known, ii 
virtual success of the mmister and the poor of his coi^regi 
tion. 'Fho heritors, meanwhile, for the most part attend; 
public worship in a neighbouring dissenting meeting-h 
which Dr. Fleming, who was a keen wit, bad eatiridj 
called " the Jawhole," as being a sort of receptacle for ti 
refuse of his congregation. One Sunday, during the Doctoi 
open-air services, a goose was thrown over the wall of ^ 
church-yaid, by one of the discontented heritors, as wai 
imnaturally supposed. The poor animal on alighting ir 
crowd set ap a loud cry, which at once distracted the atteil 
tion of the auditory from the discourse of the minister. 
-doctor on observing tie occurrence paased for a n 


snH (Irnning bia Bngers over his bearJ, drily observed, 
'■ I'qdt thing, what a pity it is they did not sead ye down 
thu road to gabble with kindred cattle in the Jnwhole ; but 
I daresay," he conlinued, " it is perhaps as well that when 
they hase not the grace to show their own faces here, they 
should at least send a Buitable proxy," 

The origin of the namo of Keilston is a favourite subject 
of speculation, and has been accounted for in Tarious ways 
hy lacnl etymologists. Certain parties derive it from an 
nnaginary general of the Danish monarch Haco, named Neil, 
*ho, dying from the fatal field of Largs, wa^ overtaken here 
sod put to death. Over bis grave a tumulus, according to 
Um custom of ihe age, was erected, and called Keilston, 
from which, according to this theory, the locality ultimately 
rccaved its name. Others find its origin in a atone erected 
over a supposed Highland chief, named Neil, nho was killed 
(Ibr the purpose, we suspect) at the battle of Harlaw, in 
tiie reign of Malcolm III. Unfortunitt»1y for these specious 
lierivntioiis, an ancient document, the " Cbartulary of Paisley 
Abbay," mentions that in 1160, many years before the 
uWiish invGEioQ or the insurrection which was terminated at 
Hiilaw, Robert de Croc of Crocstown, assigns the patronage 
of "Neilstoun" to the monks of St. Mirren's, on condition 
lUl masses should be regularly s^d for the heneGt of his 
woL This lenvcs us still out at sea in our etymological 
■inxillationfl on tliis momentous question, where we most 
IWbably be content to remab, unless we adopt the shame- 
Vj simple solution that Neilston may have J'cceived its 
"Uii: from some individual rejoidng in the Celtic cognomen 
''f Soil, who may have resided bare at some period, and left 
lii) name as a legacy to the locality. 

Proceeding down hil!, in a south-west direction, to the 
clisley and Irvine road, and passing Crofthead Mill, and the 
liwdsome residence of its proprietor, a few minutus' walk 
j>MB8 QS to the ruins of Cowdon Ha' , mVottei o\i. 'Cos. «mi^- 
^Wd steep bank, btneatli which, bj \.W avia at ViitNiv^- 

198 BARitnF.AD t 

way, the Covdon Bum rtishcs n 

with the Levern jn the inimediate viuinity. " In this pi 
of NeiUton," sajs old Crawfurd, "lie the lands of Cowdoik 
whioli gave the first title of Lord to Sir William C 
afterirnrda Earl of Dundonnld. An ancient fomilj of tb 
Spreula did possess the forementioned lands for □ 
years." From the Spreuls it passed into the posaesni 
the Cochrana, from whom it was ultimati>ly transferred M 
the Mures of Caldwell, who still retain it. With r^wdW 
the ongin or hbtory of the man^on, whidi bos now maul' 
dered awny to a few crumbling vestiges, we now know al 
iiothmg. The spot is still "beuutiful exraedinglj," hin' 
t'ver, with its rows of time-honoured t 
drearily round the deCAjing walls, [ike monmers at a deSCk' 
bed. Alas ! for the pride of earth — for those who call It 
selves the lords of the soil, and who strut and fret thtirl 
hour of vain glory upon the stage, but who, even like 
common herd, must pass away and bo heard no wore I W» 
has the royal hnrd of Israel said — " Men heap up w«altb| 
jet do not know to whom it will pertain." " A cadet of tli 
noble family of Darnluy," says the late Rev. Dr. Fleming, ii 
describing his pariah, "held Arthnrlee; Glanderston * 
possessed by the ancient and highly respectable family oTlll 
Mures of Catdweil ; Keilalonaide wns held by a. 
of Sir William ^^'allace'8 family of Elderslie ; the barony « 
Side belonged to a cadet of the honourable house of S 
morlie ; Condonhall was long possessed by the distingnishl 
family of the Spreuls, and by Sir U'ilUam Cochran of Dm 
donald. Sot one of al! these has now a house ii ' 
nor an acre of land in it, saving Lord Glasgow and Colon 
Mure. All has changed hands. What a striking li 
iSj'c tranail gloria mundi." 

The Irvine road, along which oi 
^roa^M a broad vaJIej; bounded oi 


which here turns somewhat abruptly to the south- 
id on the other by a series of detached hills which 
away towards the Meams Moor. The scenery is 
aried, and, as we proceed, the heights on either hand 
ly approximate, and the landscape assumes a more 
id secluded aspect. At Shilford toll, which we soon 
re turn aside, and ascend by a green lane the braes 
right On attaining a considerable elevation, and 
a short way towards the west, our gaze is arrested 
t surprise by the prospect of a lovely little lake sleep- 
^he verdant bosom of the valley we have just lefl. 
Lochlibo, certainly one of the most picturesque lakes 
kture that our country can boast. It is only sixteen 
superficial extent, but gazing on its varied beauties, 
^tor never dreams of finding fault with its diminutive 
1 form it is nearly oval, and being protected on either 
lofly and well-wooded hills, its waters are generally 
as a mirror, and reflect with delightful effect the 
mbrageous green of the encircling trees. The beauties 
ilibo seem almost to have turned the head of good 
I Semple, who, in his work on Renfirewshire, indulges 
cription of the locality which can only be paralleled 
celebrated "Groves of Blarney." Listen to his 
[y inverted depiction, gentle reader: — "The small 
basin at the east end, which is formed by the gentle 
, is surrounded by a number of young planting, and 
)f various kinds, which separate it from the other parts 
re, and shade in this retreat a kind of silence by 
paths, which are now and will be long firequented by 
Qtal visitors, and a safe asylum for the tunefiil bird." 
nd abler pens than Semple^s, however, have attempted 
ustice to Lochlibo. The late Dr. Fleming was en^ 
ic in its praise, and asserted that it was superior to 
in Cumberland, while Miss Aird has thrown the halo 
y over its material chaim&. "Lo<^^^ tbi?iWiXi^ \sl 
d pike, while its surface la eni^Neivfe^'w^^^ ^^s3&^ 


beroD and the wild duck, irhicL, like " 

Mary's Lake," as deacribcd in the poetry of WordiwortI 

"floats doable duck ajid sbodoir." Lugtoo Water, ^ 

also mendon, lias its orif^in hero. This lovely Btream 

tnensclering course, adorns the pleasure pounds of EglinlE 

and lifter passing "the Castle o' Montgou 

the Garnock near KQwinninp. 

In the iinmediute vicinity of out presi^nt position ii Coi 
indale Law, to which we now proceed, imd in a brief i[ 
find ourselvee located on its verdaot summit, which, hL 
not more than 900 feet ahove the level of the sea, con 
a circle of scenery surpassing in extent and beauty ai 
that we have ever previously witnessed. We have bad t 
foot on the brow of Bonlomond, on the rugged ci 
lell, and on many other Alpine peaks " hiuth hereabools | 
far awa," but the prospects of Corkindala Law ae 
mind vastly supei'ior to those which can be obtained ft 
any of these high places of the land. Yet so genttoisl 
ascent, and so auiooth appears the surface when the t( 
once attained, that the spectator cbq scarcely suppose h 
even slanding on a hill. To attempt anything like ■ 
description of a landscape range so extensive and var 
out of the question. We can only indicate a fewof iti 
prominent features. We may mention, then, in th 
jilace, that on an ordinary clear day, such as this on 
we have fortunately fallen, half the counties of Scotland, 1 
portions of England, and, it is said, of Ireland also (tbi 
ibr this we will not vouch), are within the range of vi 
Looking to the north we have the Kilpatriek hills, the ro 
Dumbarton, the vole of Leyen, with a glimpse of L 
lomondandseveralof its islands; while Benlomond, Beolecfir 
the Cobbler, and countless other cloudcapt peaks are aeeu, 
heaving their heads to the sky on the misty hori/on. Turning 
to the east we have the fertile valley and basin of the Clyde, 
from Tintoc (whii;h is seen from crown to base) down tt> 
K/Jpa(rlck. Tbo three wards of Cljdeadalc, iadeed, -wilb. 

> NEIT.STON. 201 

innomernble toirns. vitUi^s, and mansions, are Bprcad 
were Bt your feet ; while the Cnmpsie, western Lomonda 
ife, Batbgnte, and Penliund hills are visible beyond. 
Syoarfiiccnow to tbe south, ami immcd'tately before yoa 
be Lead, Cumnock, and Snnquhnr bills, -with the boigbta 
iiicndbrigblsbire ; whila Saddleback and Skiddaw, in 
berland, loom dimly in the distance. The mast be^uti- 
rospect of all remains, however, and by turning to the 
i-west It bursts upon you in all its grandeur and variety. 
tur feet are Been the woods and gludes of Eglinton, with 
ie expanse of Ayrshire, sloping gradually downward to 
■8, on the irregular margin of which are visible tba 
I of Irvine, Troon, and Ayr, with the brown hills of 
ek, and far away the opening of Lochryun and a portion 
illoway. Amid the waters, on which numerous snowy 
ire moving to and fro, the huge rock of Ailsa stands 
tly up, while the Arran hills and the headland of Kin- 
ire stretched out on the borizon. In certain gtHtei of 
Iniosphere, it is said, the mountains of Mom and Newrv, 
visible far over the blue waves ; but as they 
choose to como within our ken, we shall not venture 
wiBGliide them in our outline. And an outline merely it is, 
B (futh and of necessity ; for who could paint the inSnita 
Usnilinga of light and shadow, the ever-varying colours, and 
"fe of which the wondrous picture is composed? Let 
who would comprehend its magnificence, themselves 
not the favoured spot wliere now we linger amid the beauty 
if unh, and sea, and sky. 

Long, indeed, might one linger here without exhausting 
i« taried features of loveliness which on every point of the 
profusely scattered. The scenes amid which 
'B htve hitherto been deviously rambling are hero brought 
>«fbre us at a single glance. Un the living map we can at 
*M trace the courses to and fro of our numerous excursions, 
'Wie wo retflJi the many hours of glainssa ■w\ivJa-««.V'K'* 
«« amoitg Ihem. Em the emx is w«ai'ing to-warfia *«iS« 


WMt, Rnd our slindow indicates the way we must noi 
guing. Descending irom our elevation, we return t 
field-path which sweeps round the southern shoulder trf 
Fereneiie range to the vale of the Levern. Nearlj opp 
Ndlston, which is now seen in the enchantment of dirt 
towering on the north-eaHt side of the stream, we arrii 
the opening of Killoch Glen, a beautifollj' wooded . 
romantic defile in the braes along which wc have been j 
ceediog. Down tliis glen the Killoch Bum ruehes, b 
junction with the Levern, over a succession of predpi 
rocks, forming in its progress three picturesque casd 
which resemble m a striking degree — although thej an 
course, on a much smaller scale— the celebrated Fall 
Clyde. There is a footpath along one side of the m 
from which the several falls are seen to great advanl 
through partial openings in the ti'ees, the umbrageous fbt 
of which forms a delightful natural setting for the t 
pictures. In the lower and upper iidlE, the water, with i 
siderable din, is predpitated in one foaming mass over 
respective declivities, which, reckoning by the eye, n 
from ten to fifteen feet in bright. The mid &II, whiph il- 
tnuch higher than either of the others, is broken by projects 
rocks, on which the brown waters are churned into whiteness 
only to be again dashed into the dark hollow below. In the 
channel of the stream the wagtails are flitting about while 
we thread the shadowy mazes of the glen ; and the trill of 
the redbreast, sole songster of the autumn day, hlenils 
sweetly with the voices of the rushing waters. Two little 
urchins are at the same time douking, like juvenile kelpies, 
in one of the linns, the snowy whiteness of their bodies con- 
trasting finely with the rich amber fluid ia which they are 
half immersetl, while their shrill exclamations of delight, as 
they " splash " each other in very wantonness of spirit, ring 
joyously in the green gloaming of the wood. Nor has Mora 
been unkind to this iairy glen. Feathery breckans fiinge 
eferjr rock, while the steep slopbg banks ate ^la&kwl^ 


tangled with Intermingled verdiln and bloom. It was here, 
DnaBweet spring day of langsjTie, that we first made the 
Kqndntanceof the wild hyacinth or craw-flower, the odoroua 
WodruBi and the tulver starwort — a winaome trio ; and 
wlierever now in our walks we meet these tioral favonrites, a 
nioD of Killoch flashes athwitrt our memory, with the "old 
r faces" of our coniprmiona on the occasion. The 
bave also flapped their radiiint pinions over this 
^ scene. Tannahill sings of " Glen-KIlloch'g aunny 
uid Scadlock, a humble poet of the locality, has 
roted seveml eflSialons to its praise. The prodactions of 
B nuaelese son of song, who was a friend and correspon* 
HU of Tannahill, are generally possessed of but little merit, 
JM hB is occasionally happy in his descriptive sketches of 
i, while a vein of genuine tendemesa is maoifeated in 
Ktenl of his lyrics, ^'e shall bid farewell to Killoch by 
two of hia simple stanzas in reference to the scene, 
ore not, as our readers will observe, by any means 
to its present aspect, — 

" Caiild the norlnna w!pd liolli bluir. 

I've wuidoT'd blTthfl and cAeerr." 

wring the glen at its upper extremity, we now proceed 

! smnntit of the Fereneze Braes, in a northerly 

and speedily arrive at an old thorn, well known 

Uw ndghbourhood as the " Kissing -tree." The stem and 

lUUhes of this sturdy old bush or tree are thickly studded 

□aihi, which have been driven in, from time to time, by 

Mitlifal lovers who are in the habit of visiting the spot. 

n the toaghness of the wood, it is no easy matter to send 

ail "home" into it; and the swain who manages to 

inplisfa the Aat, in presence al \ca sv<(ltt'Ca«B^^ 'tt^i^^ 

eob't/ed to "ae fond kisa" on tW spot. SiVKMsafc'ia.'^a 



operatioD, we ms}' however neDlion, ia ooQsidered tn UgfJ 
of constancj'. llenoethe sppropmteneM of ihe reward. 

From the " Kissing-tree '' a 6ae prospect of the vilo of 
Levem, alinosC from its origin in the long loch wH il 
loses itself in the Cart, is obtunad, with NeilstOD Fv<i 
Craig of Carnnck, and a wide extent of countrj bejond. 
The villages of Neilston and Barrhead, al^o, are here secnlo 
great advantage ; the latter seemingly almost at the (bet af 
the spectator. 

" Bnl itU je whi's In ym ttilin 
_ThB_«>nlii' ma itiloa iweBt upon? 

80, regretting that we have neither a nwl nor n la 
bid adieu to the nail-coated thorn, and make our vi&y doii' 
hill to Barrhead, where we shall bid our wearied readci* ' 
courteous good night, as wa have " a craw to pluck lO ■"i"' 
host's" withagenial "aquad" of thenatives. So,(IbrnW. 



iSLBT, altbong^ situated some eeveti miles 
iert, arc, hj the facilities of steam transit, now placed, 
f Tegards time, in almost immediate juxtaposition 
fer. A quarter of an hour now suffices to transport 
feller, on business bent, from the Broomielaw 
t— &om tlie smoky domains of our beloved Sonet 
those of his venerable brother in the " odour 
" Mirrinus, So far as speedy communication ii 
Id, the railway has left ug almost nothing to wish. 
Iltry which lies between the great industrial centres 
lyde and the Cart, however, is of the moat beautifol 
Be descripdon, and contains, moreover, several ob- 
luBtorical and sentimental interest, the due inspec- 
riiich requires a more leisurely mode of progression 
It of the iron way. Our readers will therefore 
ed to accompany us in our present ramble, as on 
iccBsions, a la picL We may hint, however, for 
(ouragement, that there is a probability of our being 
D the rail by fetigue on our return, as we propose 
Ihem round a pretty considerable circuit, and into 
lU innumerable. 

hourito route to Paisley is, of course, the longest 
Icb is that by the margin of the Canal. THking our 
n Port- Eglin ton, a short walk brings us to Shields 
H which point, on the south side of the water, the 
Joe httle village of PoUokshields has recently sprung 
Itence, with a degree of Ts.pviiV! ""^^^ ti«Vi ■fs'^ 
■w^Yankee sjstem of toyra aes^^^iawDS.- "^^a* 



miniBture eommuiiitj ia composed of elegant cottigu m 
vQlaa, eacli ediSce having its own belt of garden grflnB 
walled in, and taatefally planted in front with Sowen 
shrubs, »nd in the rear with kitchen vegetables, 
gresteat Turiety of architectural taste, moreover, seem 
prevnil in this liiung suburban settlement. Some two > 
or ao of tenements are already erected, or are in proM 
of erection, and scarcely two of them nre similar in deag 
or construction. Each indlvidunl proprietor seems tol 
had his own ideal in " stone and lime," and every m 
house is as unlike his neighbour's as possible. Sbonld 
some determined diver^ty of style continue to prev^, I^ 
don's Encyclopaedia of Cotlagi ^rciliieciure must soon 
a dead letter, go far as Glasgow is concerned, as 
through Pollokshields will be as instructive to the sCuda 
as a perusal of that ponderous tboagh valuable Tolniiie, 
ita endless disquisitions on projecting porches, 
cbimney-stalks, peaked gables, rustic arcades, and mnl^<M 
windows. It must be admitted, however, that 
has gone, this variety has, on the whole, an exceeding 
pleasing and picturesque elTect, and that we know ^ 
places in the vicinity of our city where we would nM 
readily wish for a snug cottage home, if "the lamp 
Allttdln " were for a brief period ours. 

The banks of the canal between Glasgow and Pais'^ 
artificial though they be, are as rich in natural beauty as t 
winding margin of many a river. In various places they * 
* finely wooded, while throughout their entire length they ' 
fringed with a profusion of our sweetest wild flowers. EV 
here and there, also, glimpses of the surrounding coontiT'i 
oblained — in some cases extending for many miles aro»* 
and embracing scenes of great fertility and loveliness. A>' 
pass along, the reapers in picturesque groups are busy 
bright yellow fields. Occasionally, also, the voices of jtf 
oilg gtrollers from the purlieus of the city are heard on 
. JajigJod sad boaky banks, yi\ia» Uiey oome m aeai^fC 

AND CB0OK8T0M. 207 

i and Iiaws and the bkckbojds, wbich, however, have 
txAj jet ftttoined the necessary degree of ripenees. At 
tvals, "few and far between," one of the Company's 
tt puaes lazily to its destination ; wbile every now and 
In a solitary angler gazes despairingly at hia float, and 
ileiB "Nothing doing" to our passing inquiries concem- 
I bis fMscatorial success. About four miles from the city, 
>Csrt approaches within a few feet of the canal. At this 
3 find the yellow water-lily (nupkar 
») growing abundantly, with its broad cordate leaves 
ihright golden flowers covering the surfece of the water. 
ST of other fine plants also are thickly strewn along 
I alluvial mar^n. Among these are the handsome wood 
's-bill (geranium ar/h-alieaiii), several stately apeciea of 
Itle, flinging their snowy iocks to the passing breeze, and 
iraigb burr-reed with its green sword-like leaves guard- 
1 the shallowa of the struan;let, and forming an impervious 
le for the water-hen. A dense wood on the opposite 
lof the Cart at this place, forming part of the extensive 
s of Sir John MasweU of PoUok, seems to be well 
ad with game and other wild birds, and we have often 
. with delight their peculiar cries and notes while 
tering at the spot during the spring and snminer gloam- 
Here, too, we have observed for several successive 
us a pair of those sweet, though in this part of the 
ntry somewhat rare songsters, the black-cap warblers 
fruca alricapiSa'), which seem to have bred in the vicinity, 
kongh with all our skill (and in our school-days it wfl» 
lus) we have failed to discover the well scroetied nest, 
boot half-a-mila farther on we pass the spot where, on 
ien bank of the Cart, stood for several centuries the 
B castle of Cardonald. This venerable relic of 
it times has, however, been demolished within these few 
ind a neat modern farm-steading has been erected on 
This was at an early punod a (.eal. ol ■&«. '*ft*;««^ 
H&, who held extensive possesaona te a.Xfci^jfeKO^'^'^*'** 


of years in Renfrewsliire. In the reign of Jamea tlie Sixll, 
Waller Stewart, Prior of Biantvre, vraa lord of CardouiW. 
From him it paased into the hands of Lord £laDtyre, liil 
heir, in whose family it has continued ever since. Cnvfiui 
in his Eistary of Renfrewshire, mentions that In his day dw 
lands of Cardonaid were well planted and "beautiful witli 
pleasant gardens." The remiuDS of these are still in exiri- 
ence. On the fine green lawn whiuh lies between the modEn 
edifice and the canal, and whith is thickly strewn wit! 
flips in the early sammer, are a number of stately old (tattt 
trees, while the garden still contains several hait-trtei ft 
great age and considerable size. In front of the pnMt 
house is a stone tuhen from the walls of its more vcn 
predecessor, on which is carved the figure of a casquiW 
helmet, with the motto " Toujours avant'' (alwa^'s forwud], 
und the initio J. S., date 1565. At a ehort distance to tto 
north, on n band of the Curt, are the exlcnsivo meil m 
CardouBld, with a group of ctittnges and kail-yards, oce^ed 
apparently by the operatives engnged in the establiahmoit 
A more delightfi!l locality altogether it were difficult to 
imagine. Wood, water, and variety of surface, are 1 
be seen in beautiful combination ; and we can only regrtt 
that it has been divested to a considerable extent of the 
charm of historic association, by the removal of the " howlrt- 
haunted biggin" which for so many generations gracad lb* 
Bceoe with its presence. 

Immeiliately atlcr pBssbg Cardonaid the ruins of Crook' 
^^ton Castle are seen on a rising ground to the west, toweni'E 
proudly over the intervening woods. Crossing the canal *■ 
this point, and passing along a somewhat circuitous roO**'' 
we find our way, after a walk of about a mile, to this inl 
esting and highly romantic spot, which, froni its conned 
with the name and memory of the unfortunate Mary, »■*— 
ever be dear to the sentimental rambler. Id the time ^ 
Crawfurd this venerable building, which is situated on ' 
Aa/d Aani of the Lerav (which joins the Cart at a short di* 



ce to the north), consisted of " a large keep and two tofVy 

era with battlenicnteil nings.^' Since that period a con- 

iMj greater portion of ita walls have owned the crumb- 

\g iDfluences of time and the elements. Only one shattered 

■hta kept its original altitude, and evun it lias been in 

It degree indebted for its preservation to the consider- 

k attrition 'of Sir John Maxwell, on whose property it 

Is, and who lias caused its rent sides to bo secured and 

id together by strong iron bars. The same gentleman 

lllso, within the post lew years, procured the removal of 

idebrii which in the course of centuries bad accumulated 

d the base of the edifice, and by that means has brought 

Bghl B number ol^ antique doors, windows, and stairCBses, 

ksereral other curious architectural features, which had 

B long hid from the gaze of the antiquary. A couple of 

Ited chambers — one of which is in total darkness, and the 

W only lighted by a narrow loop-hole — are all that now 

WD in anything like a state of entirely. One is almost 

tA to surmise to what vile uses such dreary dungeons 

irhave been put in the rude days of old, when a lordling's 

ras cause aullitient for imprisonment or even death 

the helpless and haply unoffeuding serf. On cliuibiug 

til tojaa difficulty the narrow and decayed staircase, and 

BDg on the thick darkness which reigns in one of these 

Hhi4«ss cells, we can almost fancy that we hear the sigh of 

Bb» hopeless captive floating through tbe gloomy and sljiliiig 

■■i and we must admit that we are fain to return to the 

blessed light of day, while a. feeling of pride and };ratituda 

'Priags up in our heart, to think that in our land not oven 

''e vilest criminal can now be condemned to suchaloath- 

fcne and unwholesome den. The rampart and moat of tho 

Mle, which ore of conaidurable e^ttent, and convey a vivid 

Mof the magnitude and grandeur of the edifice in its days 

biide and power, may Etill be distinctly traced. 

^Blie barony and castle of Crooksloa ae^aLUiVB^e.&'scnv&. 

W^ name from Robert de Cioc, & gwA\cBiB.-o. ^S. ^ii^asso 


exlraction, who held ( 
twelflh century. In the following century the belitn i 
thia individual was married into the illustriouB tkiBJIy i 
Stusrt, who thereby became lords of Iho extensive liuofil 
of CrookstOD, Darnley, Inchinnan, Keilston, and Tuholu 
Every student of Scottish history ig aware that Hemj Dtq 
ley, the heir of this ancient and noble house, having wond 
affections of his Queen, the beautiful but unfortunate M^ 
was married to her in the year 15G5. Tradition asserta n 
it was at Crookaton, one of the seats of the handsome thoU 
foolish young lord, that the brief courtship of the ill-fa^ 
lovers took place ; and an old and beanUful yew-tree, vln 
stood in the garden a little to the east of the castle, nu M 
to have been a favourite haunt of the royal lovers ioi 
hours of gentle dalliance which preceded their ill-unclj 
and ultimately tragical union. The remiuns of this fine il 
tree were removed in 1817 by Sir John Maxwell, it had 
been sadly destroyed previously by the depredations of tal 
less relic- hunters. A portion of the timber, we may mental 
has been appropriately formed into a model of Crooba 
Castle. This interesting object is preserved at FollokHfHf 
where the visitor is also shown three large sections of || 
yew, which seems to have been a tree of considerablsfl 
and size. The number of snuff-boxes, drinking-cupa, i 
ornaments of various kinds, said to be formed out of QM 
Mary's tree, is almoat incredible. Every curiosity -ooUeiS 
from the Land's End to John o' Groat's, can boast oiw' 
more fragments of it ; although it must be admitted tt 
like the wood of the "true Cross" which was so extenri* 
diffused during the Middle Ages, the genuineness of ^ 
article is, to say the least of it, in many instances extrein 

LSir Walter Scott has made u sad blunder in his nove 
The Abbot, by representing Mary as witnessing at Crtf 
Stan the battle of Laogaide. It ii well tnowu tiiat the ' 
•^iuoMs Queen stood on an eannenca nwx CsOMaMdM 


^M decisiye eagapement, which oecumid at least four miles 
10 the east of Crookaton. The intervening ground, bIso, is 

I af such a nature as to render Langside iuvigible from this 
On being informed of the error which he had thua 
e, Sir Walter at once admitted the fact, in a note to the 
id edition of the Waverky Nai'els, but he refused to 
Ihe text, aa ho considered that by so doing the dratuatio 
Bt of the romance would be considerably diminished. 
ker error regarding the stream which flows past the casllu 
leen perpetuated by many who have written concerning 
burn. This fine rivulet is the Levers, and not the 
e Cart, as has been generally believed. The fact that 
unction of these two streams occurs in a benntiful rpot 
ithdf-a-mile to the northward of the rains has probiibly 
tbis confusion of their names. 

U memory of Scotia's unfortunate Qneon — a memory 
led in tears — has been associated with many a lovely 
t, bat with Done more so than Crooketon. Fennnut, 
wited the spot in 1772, truly says, — "The situation is 
iouB, commanding a view of a well- cultivated tract, 
kd into a multitude of fertile little hills ;" and Scott has 
■ Queen Marynunark, that the castle commands a pros- 
la wide almost as that which is seen from the peaked 
it of Scheballion. Alike nch in material beauty and 
Dental interest, it is no wonder that Crookstun is annu- 
isited by thousands of pilgrims, or that it has ever been 
lurite haunt of the poetic brothejhood. ITie author of 
(Clyde," to whom we have been previously indebted fur 
■1 apt quotations, thus describes the spot: — 

And ntblem Ibrcii sf uciilBidcmi bindi. 

Nor CI jde'i whole course jia ampler prwpBcl jrldda 
OrapdOlnoBplnlpsuid well-iinproTBD tlelai, 
Vnuch (HT8 Ihe itanllr tUlna hUli nummnd, 

thiQ alludes to the ruins in one ot\i.i*6«ee,\.ViV«s.N — 
" Thronorh Cfoolmoo Oiiit\B'»\DnBV( ■tn!^ 
TtU wintry wind howli wUO ■»& ^eu^-" 


And OUT ovin Motlierwell, wbo many a time and oft V 
gered in penaive mood by tlie lime-tonoured pile, lus m 
tirated its cbarms in one of bis most elefUBt composilioill,! 
wbich the followio^ are tbe conelading lines : — '' 

Tha hBidranii'i lutlu juu tatuiIeonMitiitil— ij 

But CmokitiHi. irbne tblna uied uwen renula, 1 

Sy ntMdt natBru ihill^r »>» t« wept, i 

WbllM tutOit ii lElt of thcu thr rulni'snT. J 

ItfliDcmbrBiicG Inilun wjtii reprmch and paiQ^ 
Ta thaw who moke Jlks mB Ifila pilgr^magfll" [I 

n anonymouB bard also has endeavoured to eij* 

m reree the feelings which Iho shattered and drearj Ud 
with its wall-flowers scenting tbe dewy air, and its clamoB 
trnia of daws startliug the echoes with their boarsecrie^j 
excited in hb breast, One of these nameleu aumfj 
heart we must give, — ^^^^H 

^^^^^V Ttaui Ihonl (> oft the LLneeKDs triTcUer telU, l| 

^^^^V WltU undameu thf ula the nidaU lH»iim wweOt, ' | 

■ " Alnni the Hml thit pluilnic ndQin steali 1 

F Which nemDlcj from s ulU hiro'e Sjlat iiill. j 

To Urn lone iniulBg by ibil nrnilderlng wall, .. 4 

What warridm Ihrongod, whnl Joy rung thruugh thy lulV} 

When n>y«l Kiiy— yet ooeieinoa dy prime, | 

It hlKh gorgBUn* 

A favourite baunt withal of Flora is Croolcatont and; 
botanist will find in its shady moat a number of oar 1 
heaatiful, and several of our most rare indigenous pH 
Among these are the uuckowpint [aram mai^latum). ' 
ita curiously formed flowers in spring, and its spikes of M 
scarlet berries In tiie autumn montbs', the tiuVicsTous moa 
i^ (la/aca mosehattUiiia), and » nch ■wst^ ot. ^ 



e trailing bramble, tbe brier with ita Eod-folJing blosaom, 
lu «loe, the bazel, the rowan-tree, and ibe liaw, ore strcnn 
> tbe most picturexque profusion around tlie spot — a verj 
irdle of arborescent beautj to the hoary tower. It would 
Imost seem as if Nature lored cspcciully to adorn tbe scene 
hich had been hallowed by the presence, in a long past age, 
f the fairest and the most unrortunatQ tbat over bore tbe 
Wptre and crown of regal dignity. How often muat the 
'nil fancy of tbe esiled Queen have down from the glooni 
f her dreary priaon-walla to tbia fair spot, wliicb every 
engon decks with a beauty of its own ! Buma hua put 
tordaoFlnmentationinto the mouth of Mary ; and it would 
ilnorit seeiu that the scenery of Crookston was in his mind'a 
0% when he penned the following verse, so true is it to the 
ts spring landscape: — 

Munii lie m prina atruis-" 
s lovely at aU times and seasons; but we feel, 
£ musing by its boary towers, tbat the period moat 
'ppropriate to wander by tbe "lonely mansion of the dead" 
■* indeed that in which we have made our rambling pilgrim- 
*Se to tbe locality. The primrose and the violet of spring 
"■lie long been numbered among the things that were; tbe 
|Utroseof summer has fallen from the leafy brier; the lark 
" ulmt in tbe meadow, und the merle in hia noontide bower. 
'V gathering harvest in the whitened &elda, tbe woodlanda 
fulling into the aear and yellow leaf, tbe harebell hanging iu 
''cad aa if in woe, and even the liquid pipinga of the red- 
flM telling of approaching decay to everything of bloom, 
^■B mggestive of piensive feeling, and appropriately har- 
^Htowith that "luxury of woe" in which one loves to 
^■e beneath the shuttered waW, atootvi -TiXivdQ^tta-^** 
H^, melancholy memories are cmfninc^ 


Before leaving CroolcBton, we may mention tbat aftei llH 
tragical death of Damley the estates and honours of Lamffl 
were bestowed upon Charles Stuart, sBcond son of the Ed 
of Lennox. This individoal, however, dying without iml 
they were rerigned to the crown by Robert Stuart, Bishop i 
Caithness, the next in lineal succession. After this the W 
and castle of CroolcBton passed through a variety of hfui9 
mitil they were finally purchased from the Montrose faimt 
in 1757, by Sir Joho Maxwell, the ancestor of the preM 
proprietor, who, as we have previously remarked, has a 
hibited his respect for the memory of her whose bri 
i*eaidenc8 hero has for ever hallowed the locality, by H 
judicious measures he has adopted for the preservaliaii i 
the mouldering edifice. But for the attention which be hi 
thus manifested, the stately remains of Crookslcn Cwd 
must soon have been levelled with the dust, and the plst 
which has known its pomp and grandeur for many a )M 
century should have known them "no more for ever." Ti 
antiquary, and he who loves to drop the teur of syuipii 
over the dark fate of the unfortunate Mary, will have rent 
for many years to feel grateful to him who has thus preserrt 
from impending destruction such an interestbg memoriul < 
" what has been," We may also mention tbat there ia a & 
portrait of the beauteous Queen of Soots preserved at Polln 
House, as also authentic portraits of her not less ill-ftW 
grandiion, Charles the First, and the Infanta of Spain, whoi 
will be remembered, was at one period destined to be his brio 

Retracing oor steps to tlic canal, we pursue our deviO 
way by its margin toward Paisley, which is still some tbf 
miles to the northward. On either hand, as we pass, a sO 
cession of fertile fields in all the brightness of autumnal gf^ 
and many of them already shorn or in process of hal 
speedily BO, present a series of those rural pictures which tl 
famous American reaping machine threatens soon to band 
jfo/n oar land. Tn an age of change, wbilc steam is jostlh 
«» la ereij direction, the haint-ng teiiiKnB& 


n our poets and our paioters, ihoso dreamy worsbippera 

r ihe beautiful, lave reTelled in the cheetiul groups of 

mimn, weaving in immortal verso or tracing on the living 

IB those combinations of the graceful in form and tbi; 

n colour, which, once Been, become unto the heart 

irever!" Lbten to one who first saw the light in 

four own hubilation, the author of "The Sabbath," 

lio looked with an attentive and a laving eye on all 

ihowB and forma " of ever- varying nature, — 

ArouDd tliDlr ^mple bTO, 
lad, bljtliBome Ihej forni 
letiDTTblj' vilubotilud, 

And (AwJn^ foDt, imploiu his llnlo ■luifv,'* 
B picture in worda, wbicl 

" our artistic 
I might well translate into the language of the glowing 
Or what say they to the following from the same 
'■like, but oh how sweetly different I" 
"Tbeahonnput, aeuoi 


at a mile to the north-west of Crookston, and on the 
ide of the White Cart, are the spacioua manaion and 
n of Hawkhead, one of the seats of the Earl of 
ttgow. This fine old house, which is screened in every 
feclion by extensive and beautiful woods, ia Bomenhai 
'cgalar in ita appearance. According to Crawtiird, " it ia 
l^in the form of a court, and consists of a large old 
I to which there were lower buildings addud in the 
f Charles the First by James Lord Ross and Dame 
t Scott, his lady, and adompA Vvik W%<s otfioKt^- 
rdena, and pretty terraces, vntb te^at aiv^ *»>-*•) 


avenues fronting llio aald castle, and almost surrounded wi 
voods null encloEiircs, irbich add much to the beaut]'' 
this Beat." This was, we anderstand, the first inrtence 
nenrrcirabire in wbiuh the formal and stiff style of Du( 
gartlening was introduced. The house, too, iras among I 
earlicat in mhicU modem comfort was combined with I 
strength of former times. In 1782 the CountMS-Dowsgrf 
Glasgow made considerable iiDprovemonls on this favouli 
estitte, and formed a new garden, fbm* acres in extent, t 
more in accorditnce with the taste of our day than its sbb 
but quaint and old-fashioned predecessor. We have aeUt 
seen finer masses of foliage than the bosky banks of the Q 
preeent at tbis place j while in epriog and early summe;^ 

The Buke of York — the persecuting Duke whose nal 
Btill sUnks in the nostrils of the Presbyterian pcasantif 
Scotland— when in the plenitude of his power in 168 
" dined at the Halcat with my Lord Ross," as we lea 
from an ancient chronicler, who records the event u fli 
of a meroorable nature. 

The Hawkhead woods seem to furnish a favourite hlfl 
for the rook. As we pass we are amused to see an immen 
flock of these sagaciouH birds flying about a neighbouiH 
field, intermingled with vast numbers of starlings — i 
species which of late years has increased to an almost in<!ni 
ible extent in the districts around Glasgow and FaislB 
In onr bird-nesting days a starling was indeed a vara CV 
We had a tradition in our scliool that a few ■terlmgs fro 
time immemorial had haunted the creviced wails of Bolhw 
Caatle and the shattered towers of Crookston ; but for mfl 
around the country, as every disciple of Gilbert H'hil« 
this neighbourhood well knew, such a thing as a bird of " 
species vaa seldom seen. Another proof of their scaroi^i 
«w^ ireiv wanted, waa the handsome ptices v\ai^ t.b 


could always command in that most curious of marts, the 
bird-market Some seven or eight years ago, however, they 
began to increase in numbers around Paisley, where they 
v«te treated with the utmost kindness and consideration ; 
bres^ng-bozes for their special accommodation being 
n^ended on every second tree and chimney-top. Under 
tbese fostering influences the starlings "multiplied and 
nplenisbed,'^ until at present they are almost as common in 
tint town as the house-sparrow. More recently they have 
^gim to congregate in and around our city ; and so plentiful 
have they akeady become, that a fine young specimen can 
be porahased in the season, by the juvenile ornithologist, at 
As price of an old song; while those who, like ourselves, 
In in the habit of perambulating the country, must have 
^ startled by the vast flocks, often consisting of many 

AoQsands, which assemble in the autumn and winter months 


tt the neighbouring fields. 

About half-a-mile from Paisley the canal is carried over 
^ Cart by a handsome aqueduct bridge. This structure, 
^OBk which a fine vieif of the town is obtained, is 210 feet m 
Ittglli, 27 in breadth, and 80 in height. The span of the 
Qth is not less than 84 feet. At a short distance to the west 
of this, and quite adjacent to the canal, are the remains of 
4e indent castellated mansion of Blackball, in bygone times 
^ mt of the Ardgowan fiunily. Crawfurd mentions that 
ift bis day the grounds of Blackball " were adorned with 
^tatifiil planting.^^ The glory, however, has now departed 
^^ the locality. The gardens and shrubbery are no more, 
^hile the edifice itself has a blackened and exceedingly dreary 
*ipeofe. A few minutes* walk from this hoary relic of the 
Pttt brings lis into the bustling centre of Paisley, where, in 
^ meantime, we shall leave the reader to make the ac- 
^Uttntance of the *' bodies" as he best may. 


The town of' Pullej is of considerable extent and ii 
vice, heiag the fifth in respect to magnitude in Scodud 
In population it formerl)' ranked next to GlasgDir ud 
Edinbargh, bat latterly it bas beeo outstripped in the mrA 
of pragresaion by Aberdeen and Dundee ; (he aumbec of ifl 
inhabitflnts at tlie kte census btdng 47,952, -vrhile tbowfl 
the two latter towns were respectirely 71,073 and 78,986 
Fusley is Iinely situated on both ndes of the Wbite Gutj 
about seven miles to the soath-wost of Glasgow, and It 
miles above the junction of that etream nith the Qyde. It 
coyers, altogether, a surface of nearly two and a-half mil* 
square. Themninlineof street, extending from the at 
Wiliiamaburgk in the east to Millomtou in the west, is litoilt 
two miles long ; while aoveral of the other main thorougb- 
fares, such as Causeyade and George Street, are likewi»«f 
considerable length. The original portion of the town it 
chiefly built on a fine terrace-like eminence, which r 
direction westward of the Cart, and commands an exteiis<4 
prospect of the aurrounding conntry. By means of n 
additions, however, it U now spread far and wide on 
sides of this elevation. The now town, which lies oo uW 
opposite side of the river, was commenced by Junes, dgW 
Earl of Abercoro, ho recently as 1779. Peeiiourfy to li* 
period the suburb of SuedhiU, with Walneuk, SnnlUuIU. 
and a few other contiguous streets, were the only portaoM t* 
the burgh which existed on the east side of the Cart. 

Although Paisley, under tbe name of Vandnaro, was ri 
earh- period the mto of an extensive Roman encampmea 



^b'ges of which are atill visible in some places ; ^et it seems, 
ite Its more cxtensivo and wtalthy neiglibour, to have had 
in ecdeaiaEtical origin. In the twelfth century, when Walter 
itewart founded a monastery here, it appears there was not 
inn a village in the neighbourhood ; but that one gradually 
Uose ajlerworda, for the Hccommodation of the retuners of 
lie okmJcs, and the numerous pilgrims attracted to the 
'taUtj by the fame of its patron saint. Slowly increasing in 
Eitent, it was created a burgh of barony in 1488, althoogh 
u lately even as 1695 the population only amounted to 
2i20O. Crawfurd, writing a few years subsequent to the 
litter date, says, that in his time the town consisted of one 
pnncipal street, about half-a-mite in length, running west- 
»inl from the river, and having some lanes and wynds 
Aching oir in variauE directions. About the same period, 
aSmilton of Wiahaw, whose curious and interesting work we 
Wvo more than once had occasion to quote, thus briefly 
Wibes the town;—" Paisley is a very pleasant and well- 
loilt little towo, plentifully provided with all sorts of ftrain, 
'inti, coals, peats, fishes, and what else is proper for the 
^tmrortable use of man, or can be expected in any other 
lUceof the kingdom," It was only after the Union that the 
Unnlacturing energies of the town began to be thoroughly 
Wiiloped, and the germs were laid of that prosperity which 
I W since attained. The manu&ctures of Paisley at 6rst 
^'^iiMted principally of linen and muslin fabrics, in the pro- 
liictioa of which it ultimately gained considerable celebrity. 
Riis branch of textile manufacture was afterwards in a great 
nieagnre superseded by the production uf flax and cotton 
tlircad, in the preparation of which it acquired a hi^b degree 
If excellence, and for which it still retains a wide-spread 
''^Dlation. Silk and linen gauze, of great elegance and 
"MDty, also formed for many years staple articles of produce 
'" lluB enlerpriMng community ; but one of the more rcoent 
""i important additions to the deparUneWa ot iVSii^'mv- 
■07 u) which her population has \je.eii iiT\n«.?,eii''^'^''^ ^ 

ihawl weaving, in which, for tariety and besuty of 
and richoess of colour, she is almost unrivalled. Tlie ireaT> 
ing of tartans, and other textures of a similar natnn 
ilenoniinated tweeds, has also, of late years, been succesaliill^ 
intsoduced ; and, at the prejient time, there are many hundndi 
of artisana engaged in and around Paisley in the prinliiij 
of shawls and plaids, prlni^ipally composed of &ne wooUoi 
fabrics, and remarkable for the elegance of their deaigm, 
the brilliancy of their tints, and, above all, for thor remuk- 
able cheapness. This latter feature, indeed, has caused llw 
elegant though less substantial printed sbawl in a giM 
measure to supersede that of the loom, which, from tlw 
complexity of the mauhinery necessary to its produclion, i 
the greater amount of labour which it requires, is necessan^ 
much more expensive. Altogether, in manufacturing ddH 
nnd Inate, as well as in commercial enterprise, P^sley hu 
uoQtinucd to occupy a prominent puutiou among the indnl- 
trial centres of onr country, and, in cer ' " 
has even manifested a superiority which is in the highest 
degree creditable to the productive capabilities of ber popu- 

Nor has the pre-eminence of Paisley been entire^ NB- 
fined to the successiiil production of textile fabrics, t^ 
people of Paisley are generally admitted to possess 
respectable intellectual status, and it is well known tits' 
the town has given birth to several individuals who hs" 
attained distinction in various departments of literature M» 
art, whose names their country 

" WUI not wIUIheI; Ist die" 

Among these are Alexander Wilson, author of " Watty »"» 
Meg," and other poems of great merit, and also of avaluiihl* 
work on the ornithology of America, famous alike for t^ 
vigorous eloquence of its descriptions, and the atriking fideWy 
of its pictorial illustrations ; Robert Tannahill, with the singl*' 
escepiion of Boms, the sweetest lyrical poet of Scotland' 
J'jv/essor Wilson, one of the most eloquent of 


n, and a poet of do mean pomers ; and Henning, tlie 
rerof ancient Grecian an. Besides these, tlie undoubted 
of fune, Fuslej baa produced a perfect host of minor 
I, principally intelligCDt operativea, -who have lightened 
iiterTals of labour with Hleraty atudy, and manf of 
e productions are highly creditable to their authors. 
general architectural appearance the town of Paisley 
uts &w features calling for particolor attentioo from 
Darin. Its streets are tor the most part narrow and 
OUB, while even its most handsome edifices sufFer in 
; from the contiguity of less imposing structures. Of 
taiB a material improvemeot has been effected in the 
Dm aiea which is bounded on one side by the County 
linp. This extensive pile, which is in the form of an 
U feudal castle, and to which large additions have 
tiybeen made, is situated on the west bank of the Cart, 
a immediate vicinity of the Glasgow and Paisley Joint 
r^ Station, nliicli has becu built in a harmoiiixiag 
of Bwhitecture. It was erected between 1818 and 
lit an expense of about £28,000, and contabs a court- 
land offices for the transaction of various departments 
bUc business, together with a chapel, jail, and house of 
stion. Immediately adjacent is the Government School 
tign — a building which forms a standing proof of the 
ity which existed at the period of its erection for such 
Mitution. It is, indeed, one of the most ineffective 
aeaa of design which, in a public ediGce, we have yet 
Ned. If architectural taste were a sin, the designer of 
It might well boaat of dean hands. There are, however 
■eiwal fine buildbgs in the vicinity, among which we may 
"leiLtion those forming the row facing the railway, a hanking- 
acient "hole in the wa'," "nd the reading- 
Htablisbment at the Cross, the hall of which is adomeil 
splendid bust of Professor Wilson, 
interesting public buftflin^ "m tii^ft-j, «»&. i*- 
one of the first to which 150 fceW. o 


is tliti venerable aod time-lionoured Abbey Chnrcli, yihrA 
was on^nalij founded and mumficentlj endowed, 
hy Walter, the High Steward of Scotland, the originil 
progenitor of the royal Stuarts. The descendants of tik 
noMeman afterwarda, at various periods, bestowed lib^ 
donations, both in money and Wds, upon the establiahment, 
until it ultimately became one of the most wealthy 
influential in the kingdom. " Gray Paisley's haughty lord' 
held andisputed sway over a wide extent of territory ; 
its eccleaiaeticB, of high and low degree, were accommc 
in B style of splendour unsurpassed even in the celel 
nioiiasterics of Dunfermline and St. Andrews, althou^ tbM 
were specially patronized by royalty. IJke their oonfiow 
of Melrose, 

" Tbey nnUd nellbei Heef oor iil&' 
nor B boontiful supply of all those creature comforts lAid 
the produce or limited commerce of the country could sf 
In the time of Edward I. of England, according t< 
the Abbey was pillaged and burned to the ground bj il 
invading Southrons, because the abbot, with i 
spirit of patriotism, refused to acknowledge the authority! 
the usurper. After the independence of the na 
bad been £rmly established on the memorable i 
fiannockbum, the Abbey was rebuilt on a superior (cale t 
magnificence, the church being not less than 365 feel ' 
length, while both the nave and the transepts were ft 
with lateral aislffi. It was in the cathedral form, that of 
cross, and was surmounted by a lofty steeple. The g 
part of what now exists is supposed to have been ereoted 
the tifieenth century, under the superintendenoe of AbE 
Thomas Turves, who died in 1459, and Abbot George S 
who bore swny over the brotherhood from 1472 to Maf 
1498. One of the architects seems, fi'om an andent izucc^Hj 
tion on the transept door of Melrose, to have been a Jc*' 
Murdo, who further seems to have been concerned in t^ 

of sereral other eeclesiastical ediftcEs of itopmUi*-** 


scription was originallj as follows, althougli it is now 

** John MdtAo Sinn tym calM was I, 
And bom in Farys certainly, 
And had in keping an mason werk 
Of Santandrays, ye hye kirk 
Of Glasgu, Melrose, and Faslay, 
Of Kyddsdall, and of Galway ; 
I pray to God and Mary bath, 
And Bweet St John, kep this haly kirk tta. sikaith.** 

3 period the monastery was surrounded by gardens 
chards of great extent, whicli, with a park for fallow 
were protected from lay intrusion by a high wall 
Is of a mile in circumference, erected by the aforemen* 
Abbot Shaw, as appears from an inscription on a stone 
}nce formed part of it, and which is now built into the 
' a house in the vicinity. The words are as follows, 
le exception of the fiflh line, which has been totally 

**Th6i callit ye Abbot Oeorg of Schawe 
About yis Abbay gart mak this wawe^ 
A thousand fonr hundreth zheyr 
Anchor and fyve, the date but veir; 
Pray for Ills salvatioun 
That made this noble fbnndaclonn.** 

excellent in old Abbot Shaw to secure his vineyard 
a deer-park, from which he would doubtless derive 
I dainty venison pasty, and then to solicit the prayers 
faithful for this act of selfish prudence! To our 
ic ** understanding, it would certainly appear that the 
g of the "wawe" would receive "its own exceeding 
reward" in the protection which it afforded to the 
re comforts of the monastic brotherhood. It is to be 
, therefore, that the jolly old monk had other claims 
devotional sympathies of his neighbours, as otherwise 
! afraid there would be but few beads counted on his 


I Abbey of Paisley continued to flourish until the 
nation, when the establishment was overthrown, and a 
erable portion of its arclntectnTal s^ccAcsva ^^^o^-^^s^* 
ist was then to a great extent ipviKL«^ ^o^^^cl^ «sA. '^^ 

224 tAistEV asD ITS BNVDtoNa. 

rooks who had lived for ceoturiea on the fat of the hod 
driven ignomixiiouslj from their ancient haunts. The lut d 
the abbots wns hanged at Stirliag, in 1671, for hia adherenc* 
ihe cause of Queen Mary. The revenues and rich endow- 
nts of the Abbey were at the same time secularized, Uii 
erected into a temporal lordship, which was bestowed, &r 
what equivalent we have not learoed, upon Lord Clind' 
Hamilton, who was created Baron of Pualey, a title iriiiA' 
with a considerable portion of the monastic territory, is sti^ 
preserved by the Abercom family. 

There are few finer specimens of Gotliic archiCecCniS 
in Scotlaod than the ancient Abbey Church of Paialey.. 
Although shorn of its origina! fair proportions, and de- 
nnded of many of its most delicate ornamental feature*, it 
still retains a sulBciency of both to impress the specMW 
with a vivid idea of its pristine beauty and magoaficcncs.- 
The western front presents an elevation of a singullriy 
dignified and regular character. It is composed of ft gntf 
central and two side conjpartments, separated and Qanked t 
buttresses, the carvings of both door and windows beuJg' 
an excellent stata of preservation. Tbe interior of Iw 
edifice, with its "long-drawn aisles and fretted Taalts," il* 
massive pillars and its richly decorated windows, white * 
delights tbe eye, has a peculiarly solemnizing inilucoce 
the mind. "While standing in the nave we cannot h 
repeatbg to ourselves Milton's beautiful linua in "IlPi 

■• Oh let mj dno fcul ncvsr fill 

com'se we are not likely soon to hear the " kist 
irAisiias " di mark in the Abbey Church of pEariej,^n&' 


"e (reqQBiitly heord an excellent vocal band chanting iho 
of praise within ita nails, and Ihe thrilling effect ne 
not eaaily forget. On tlie present occasion all is silent, 
lUBevep, and we feel that there ia an eloquence in the very 
tiilneM of the place which is more suggestive of sentimental 
lUDtion, and which touches a deeper chord in our boaom 
lun Ibe sweetest strains of the singer, or the moat stirring 
fpeala of the preacher. Was the render ever alone in an 
nlchurgii? It is good for man to be occasionally alone; 
*<1 in such a place as Paisley Abbey, with ita gloomy aisles 
Mnlemn echoes, the pensive mnibler wlU find as moving 
Itonons in atone" as ever Shakapeare'a banished Duke 
■din the green solituilcs of Ardeu. 

Bbthe aouth of the nave is Saint Mirren's Aisle, a small 
Up«I twenty-four feet square, which, in the palmy days of 
lie Abbey, was spedally dedicated to ita patron saint. Thisia 
Munooly called the " Sounding Aiale," from a remarkable 
'^ vhicb it poasesses, and which ia (Mtueed by certiua 
scdiaritiea in ita construction. The noiao produced when 
"s person who attends us slams the door forcibly in closing 
• is really startling. We must admit, however, that the 
fiet falls I'ar short of that described by Pennant, when he 
Bttd the spot in the early part of lost century. Either the 
id has got lazy in our ilay, or the good old man, aa is not 
' ill improbable, may have exercised more than the usoal 
^Teller's license in his narrative of its reverberative feata. 
wly in the centre of the aiale ia an altar-tomb, on which 
tl>e recumbent figure of a. woman, with the hands folded as 
Kkfer. The design and workmanship of this stmcture 
Wan elaborate and delicate description ; and, accordbg 
BXtion, it is said to have been erected to the memory of 
^bi) Bruce, daughter of the hflro of Bannockburn, who 
VActA, while in life, in the somewhat unpoeticol name of 
Qneen Blearie." Antiquarian research, however, can die- 
Wc nothing to confirm the popukiatcf(Y,M>\.\ia.\.i!Bft-wi.<SK>i- 
Jike many othei's, may be Btud to \iaia Kai'i'v<'s&- *it= 



inemoiy which a Ibnd afieetion coniinisBioneii it to pecpctiul«. 
The "footprints" which we would fain leave behind ue "o» 
the Eanda of tjine" are ever, alast being washed anuj bj 
oblivion's advancing tide. A lesson of hmnililj majnellbt 
gleaned foi- the children of pride Irom the costlj memento ii 
St. Miiren's Aisle, whioh has now "no tale to tell." Got 
mj' lady's chamber, and tell her, thoagh beautj, wealth, u 
a name among the great ones of earth, are hers, that "I 
this favour ahe must come at iast." 

A short distance to the south-eaft of Lho Abbej' ii tli 
suburb of Seedhill, wheve, on the 6(h of July, 1776, Akti* 
der Wilson, the poet and ornithologist, was bom. TotWt 
locality we now wend our way. The house, a 
formed, was demolished a few years sinae, and another bo 
since been erected in its stead, which is at once pointed w 
to us, on inquiry, by a gash old weaver. The edifice it 1 
plain two-storeyed one, and boa a sm&ll tablet of marUe pi^ 
minently inserted on its front, with the following iBKa\ 

blnbplice of AlBunder Wllnm, pBliJe;r poet und AiDerlun Dmldishi^'' * 

In the immediate vicinity of the house the Cart is pred 
tated over a rugged range of rocka, the projecting P 
tions of which are well known to the juvenility ofPaisi^T' 
"the Hauimills," This was a favourite haunt of the p 
in his early years, as indeed it still is with the boys of ■■ 
neighbourhood, who, in the bathing season, according ^ 
our weaver friend, may be seen "ploutering about in tW 
foamy water, or clustering around the craigs like ii 
eemocks." Our friend, who, to our surprise, rem 
Wilson, says, " he was a tall, thin, swanky fallow ; a 
he never took kindly to the loom." Of the latter fact* 
were well aware from tho poet's own writings. In " Groil 
from the Loom," a composition which he indited when at 
"ii desert the abut&e Ha- the pack, ha bitterly sioga, — 

3d low Dncoinplaliiing be broiiHlit, 

well for the world that V\'il30D iras not content to 
'* Creep throosbUfei pl^n daj-ploddiu>r weAVBr." 

taken Idndlj to the loom thu feathared tribes of the 
American forests bad jet in all probnbilitj remained 
e strangers to ug. Tiie galling spur of poverty 
Hquircd to send him forth on his noble mission. The 
is not often the cradle of geniuB. Had the 
more remunerative, or had the pack never been 
ne of Wilson had not now been a familiar word 
X of the Atlantic 
fl poetry of Wilson is characterized by merit of no 
f description, and evinces consideTuble ftrtility of 
r, Jceenness of BUtiro, with a tundency to coarseness, and 
line Tigour of intellect. With the esception of the 
itible " Watty and Meg," and the " Loss of the Pack," 
er, his poetical productions have never attained ajiy- 
ike an extensive popularity. 

9- lingering in conversation with onr new acquaintance 
lOUiidBrable time, we retrace our steps to the Cross, 
i along the High Street, in s weaterly direction, 
it the birthplace of Tmmahill. By the way we pass 
rase in which the author of the Lights and Shadows of 
A Life, the sweet singer of the Me o/Falmn, and the 
man eloquent" of Bbckwood'3 inimitable Magazine, 
Bw the light. His father, as is generally known, was 
pectable Paisley merchant ; and the house in which his 
Km was bom is situated on the south side of the thor- 
re along which we are passing. It is rituated a short 
e &om a more pretending edifice which stAnda a little 
he line of High Street, between the points where the 
■ is joined by the New Street and by Storie Street. The 
Doticoablo structure to w\uc\i-we »i\aift,raA'»ViA\-». 
in and screened by aliiub\iM3, ■was nSWiT:**^'^ Q<*a 

pied bf Wilaon'a faLher, and itwaa in it tbat the;oungp9 
earliest years ftere spent. An old and esteemed friend 
onn 9tJll remembers seeing tbe jellow-haired boj 8pi 
his " peerie" on the pavement in front of the house, i 
the neeboT callants. Like other boys, too, he iras a m 
in the coQStry around, a seeker of bird's nests, and n gal 
of blaeberries and blaekboyds. Thia we learned fro 
own lipB several years ago, during an interview which i 
had with him, when we were somewhat surprised to perccl 
liow vividly he remembered tbe rarioos scenes in the naj 
bourhood of his native town, more especially as he had b( 
removed from tbe locality at a comparatively early i^ 1 
except during occasional visits, " few and far between," ' 
absent from it almost ever after. 

Abont n quarter of a, mile to the westward of John fl 
son's birthplace is Castle Street, in which Robert TanMl 
mada his entree into existence. The edifice is a, lowly W 
Btoreyed biggin', and having undergone considerable altd 
tion, is now occupied by a cowfeeder. The poet's fatherl 
a decent and inwUigunt handloom weaver; and at f 
period of Robert's birth one end of the building formedl 
residence of the family, while the other was occupied U 
loom-shop. While the poet was still an infant, his && 
who seems to have been an industrious and thrifty indtridi 
erected a cottage, with part of bis savings, in an adjoii 
street. To this, when he was little more than twelve iikh 
old, the future bard, with the rest of the family, wisl 
moved; and here, with the exception of a brief stay 
England, he continued to reside until the period of 
death. The life of Tanoahill presents but few salient ft 
ures. Having learned reading, writing, and tbe elemC 
of arithmetio — the poor man's scanty curriculum in thi 
days — he was apprenticed to the hHiidloom weaving nt 
early age. In his calling, which was at that period a 
remunerative one than it is in onr day, he was asaiduons t 
ate^tivef and conseqv ' ' soon became an expert -^i 

; His spare hours were principally devoted to reading 
ind study, or to the coDverae of a few congemal fnends ; 
'luie on Saturday ulleTnoons be waa in tlie babit, either 
ilnnc Of with a choson companion, of strolling amid the 
■ iiiniitio scenery in tbe neigbbourhood of hia native toim. 
'-■■ ihvourite haunts on these occaalons, during which he 
r;iii|]ed his wemory with those images of natural beauty 
>ith which his verse ia bo richly adorned, were tho braes of 
iieniOer, Stanley green shaw, with its caatle " old and 
{ray," and the woods of Craigielee, or Ferguslie, all of which 
16 hoa celebrated in never-djing song. It is this entwining 
>f local scenery, indeed, into the structure of his compoai- 
i°ii8, that has rendered Tannabill par excellence the poet of 
lialuy. Of numerous poets the town can boast, but no 
liber has stamped his name so generally and so ineflaceable 
abehas dona on tbe prominent features of the surrounding 
ouBlry. TliQ nook is still pointed out where tbe poet's 
■ma situated, and where for so many yeam he wrought, 
was the place where Iho greater portion of his 
IS composed, as it is well known that the visitations 
ise most fl:equently occurred while his hands were 
'plying the shuttle. Genius was never with him made 
use for idleness. His was an honest and industrious 
', for which he needed not to hang hia head. His 
;b were at all times amply suffident for hia simple 
tmd he could tmJf and proudly say — 

DDfttely, tbe contentment which he has here expressed 
t at all times experienced. Like most other children 

^0, be was throughout life liable to fits of gloomy 
J, His poetry and his letters afford abundant 

;iif hia constitutional pronenea* to meaVtli ftE^ismss^. 

bred aa a "shadow of tbe corQing ft-iCiA^" ^i'^"« BSt**.- 

iag 'a the following pnssage. which ocoura is Ui epiBuB M ^ 
his fiiend Scadlock, so earlj as 1804 :— 

UltimateSy, in 1610, his health, which had never l«en of t 
very robust description, sank under the pressure of his dirk 
imaginings. His body become emaciated, his eyw holbwi 
and his expressive countenaoce pallid and oarewom- At vtt 
same time the wanderings of hie mind were rendered obnoai, 
by the incoherent nature of certain poetical effusioni i^ua 
be attempted, and by his jealousy of those whom in Iv 
'■ right mind " he best lored. 

The ahndoK of ■ elBrlw niglit, wu thiwn 

His melancholy tkia Is too vrell known to require our rect^ 
itulation of its sad pftrticulars. He now rests amid hit ]bb- 
dred in the West Relief Churoh-yard of Paisley. The spot 
ia unmarked by even the simplest memoriaL Without giud- 
ance, a stranger, however willing to do reverence to the iW 
of the departed poet, would bennable tofiud its whereaboot. 
The sod has sunk to the common level, and the grass ii *> 
thickly matted as if it had never been disturbed bj" ^ 
implements of the nexton. The memory of Tanaahill, how- 
ever, ia still green in tlie bearB of his townsmen. Many <* 
the older inhabitants, among whom la the poet's youtgc^ 
brother, Mr. Matthew Tannahill, a highly respectable ai 
intelligent individual, now well advanced in years, still ^^^ 
lionately remember his person, and many of the inddeuM » 
his life. The poet's watch, purchased by the first mffli*!' 
which he saved from his earnings as a joumeyoian 
ia in the possession of his brother ; one individual religiously' 
preserves a portion of his loom, while several fondly chsn''" 
sarai^ of his handwriting ; and hia songs, much as they *** 
"Ppreclated over 'the ien^ and breadtVi of t\ie \oiA, '"'^ 


jU; endeared to the people of P^sley.&om titeir aesocia- 
ira which to them have the charm of IhmUiarity. 
Wi& regard to the position which the name of Tairaohill 
t> occupj- among the bards of his countrj-, a few 
s must suffice. Aa a song-writer, in which character 
operiority alone consistE, be caa only be compared with 
I, the great master of the lyre. To hitu alone is he 
Strength and vigour are the prevailing character- 
ttira of the AjTshire peasant — simplicity and tenderness of 
be PaiBley artisan. The former wrung hia imagery in a 
^eM measure from hia own large and burning heart; the 
fttter gathered bis principally from the woods and fields, 
Che one touches our feelings ; the othor pleases our fancy. 
In the love songs of Bums, the woman is always in bold 
'elief; in those of Tanuahill, she is half-hiddeu among 
loirera. In "My Nannie O" and "Mary Morrison" we 
Wrer lose sight of the heroines; in " JesMe the Flower o' 
BBmbiftqe" and " G-loowy Winter'a noq awa'" the bonny 
I are bnt as lay figures, which the fancy of the poet 
I with btid and bloom. The lover revels in Bums ; the 
entalist finds his delight in Tannahill. Variety and 
are on the side of the former ; sweetness and delicacy 
i»i of the latter. In difierent walks both ore true to 
iture ; and the constitution of Scottish hearts 
1 nndei^o a radical change ere the lays of either can 
>tD be heard with pleasure in cottage and in hall. 

e of the most recent and most striking arcbitectoral 
ions to Pmsley is the Neilson Testimonial, an eitenrive 
ttately edifice, which crowns the western and highest 
lity of the ridge on wluch the more ancient portion of 
ini is situated, The site of this handsome structure, 
ped by Charles Wilson, Esq,, of this city, was formerly 
srling-green, and was remarkable for the extent and 
ly of the landscape which it commariiteA. T^w; tasMw&i.- 
I baa been erected in accordance 'wv'Ca vW "«& "^ '^^ 


I 232 PAI.ST.KY AND ITS ENvmoss, 

late Mr. John Neilaon, a grocer of tlie town, who beqneaW I 
U his death, which happened a fen years since, the n 
£S0,00O, for the purpose of educating, and, if ne«( 
clothing and feeding poor children bekinging to the OM- 
munitj. A moiety of this munificent bequest, ta we ^^ 
informed, has been expended on the building, which, hoi- 
ever much it may contribute to the adornment of the toi 
IB reckoned a "leetle too grand" for the occasion bynu 
of the long-headed natives, for the especial benefit of wbfM 
children it wsa designed. We have no desire, bowe 
" Bcaud our tongue wi' ither folk's kail," and other towm 
besides Paisley have fallen into the error of sacrifidng ^e 
useful to the ornamental, and erecting a palace where i 
poor-house would have been more to the purpose. 

Leaving this magnificent "Testimonial," and prooeedingi 
little farther to the westward, we arrive at the GemeWT 
of Paisley — a spacious and most lovely " city of the de»4 
extending altogether to about forty imperial acres, on bMk 
sides of a beautiful greon hill. It is intersected by serenl 
miles of gravelled walks, neatly trimmed and adorned witlis 
profusion of shrubs and dowering plants. A conaidcnililc 
number of hardy trees also lend additional beauty lo t^^ 
locality, whde a varietyof tasteful monuments and liM^' 
etones mark the lost resting-places of the departed. lJi<x>° 
comer of the grounds we observe an obelisk, erected totl" 
memory of two individuals who suffered for their adb 
to the principles of the Solemn League and Covenant, in ^ 
days of the Second Charles. On the front of the pedeittl<> 
the following inscription : — 

"Hen Us the Comiei of Jsmu Alade and John Park, vho nthn^il''' 
Ciou of PBlJey for MlistoK th* Oalh of Ab)iir»lii>ii, Fob, 1, 1S8S. 

TbDojl) iiwj nil ■ ■■ 


Tw*«K™b>'i')'u Biiirprelwj-.- 

hb of tbese martyrs, as we leam from anotbsr il 
were originsUy diiposilod in the Gallowgrean f 
occasion of tliiit spot being built upon in 1779, 
removed bj- the authorities and reinterrcd bcro. 
It monuraent was erected hy contributions from 

denominations of Cbristians in 1S35. On the west 
obelisk is tbe following beautiful and appropnale 

K> from Cowper: — 

Till penecnUon druHKCfl tham Into bme^ ^H 

And chased tbem up to hoa^n." 

proceed to the summit of the eminence, along 
ia a splendid avenue, fringed with shnibberj and 
iwa of trees. Near this we are shown tbe grave 
iam Finlay, a poet of considerable merit and no 
local fame; but whose "last low bed of earth" is un- 
by tbe simplest headstone, Here also lies our 
ltd, James King, n poet of no mean power, and who 
ptanj years the esteemed companion, and afterwards 
espondent of Tannahill. His narrow bed, however, 
to discover, altbongh we assisted at his obsequies, 
f from the same lack of a funereal index. Thb 
however, is scarcely to be wondered at, when wb 
that Wilson and Tannahill are in this respect still 
(red in tbe town of their birtb. We understand that ^H 
re been selected at tbe east and west extremities (^ "^1 
'C have alluded to, and that money has evCB. ^H 
[ected for the purpose of erecting monuments ra- ■ 
tbe memory of tbe authors of " Watty and 
' "Jessie the Flower of Dumblane." There ia 
indicBlion, however, we Tegt'AW«w%o^ *»a» 
tebemea being ciirriert into cKcct. '?avi«."j>''»'^i'^ 
to boast of her gunius, and vnftv g,ciQixe.^»R»^Ri^-» 

mast still lie under the reproach of iugratilnile to i* | 
memories of those who have so ntdely enlarged tier fUK 
ind BO richly invested her scenery with the charms of i 
mental aasociatiun. Let us hope that this defect in heiixUc | 
Cemetery may speedily be remedied. 

No place certmnlj' could be selected mora appropriate fei 
the erection of a monument to Tannahill, than the bnw 
of the Paisley Pert la Cliaae. It commands a series of ih 
most lovely, varied, and comprehensive landscapes ihU *' 
have ever ivitnessed. Scotland, rich as she is in matenii 
beauty, can boast few such. Some idea of their interest WJ 
be formed, when we state, that included within th^ it 
is almost the entire "land of TannHbill"— thatU toaiy,tlK 
principal scenes alluded to in his songs. Looking narthnud, 
we have almost at onr feet the spot whore once waved ^ 
"bonnie wood of Craigielee," not occupied by the gti-wo* 
(as Philip Ramsay asserts), which is considerably to the eait 
of it, bat now denuded of its leafy covering, and given oi 
the plough. 

" JiTben ftfl dAE-k green pUnllniE'B sbade, 
N» mtaftl croodlBs unDTfluAly. 
Nu muTli down lu buxbied Kljula 

The " Spanlcie howe," the " Whinny knowa," still cw 

with whins, Kebbuc^ton farm, where the famous weddinf 
was held, and Ferguslie wood, are all in the immedis" 
vicinity ; while beyond are the wide-spreading and fed"' 
hanghs of Clyde, with the burgh of Renfrew, and our 0*" 
smoky city, with Tennant's giant towering over it; t"^ 
in the distance, to the left, are the Kilpatrick range •>" 
the nusty moantain tops, where 

ObacoTBlj bloooiBil tbe Jennie,- 
'^rcitBwed eObrt It at pnieat (May. 1856) l«VnK nrnflelonWiioB^fi 

I ITS EKVIRO^-s. 235 

a unsophisticated charms won the admiration or the 

g " to the right about," as the drill-sergeant haa it, 

_ 4 looting from this picture unto that, the scene is equally 

nir, although not quite bo spucious. To tlie right are the 

iowton woods, juat as they were when the bard marked the 

laverock fanning the "snaw-white cluJs," cm the departure 

of gloomy winter, some half century ago. Then immediately 

in IroDt are the Olenifier Braes, with the dark Rn still 

wowning the stej rocky hill, and the " dusky glen," where 

'0 tlie gloaming " the planting taps " are still " tinged wi' 

Ifd," u ia the days o' langsyne. A little nearer arc the 

Id castle turrets " of Stanley, but an intervening knowa 

thides them from our gaze. To the left is Craigie Linn, 

IB little aabject lor some of our landscape limners — 

virgin, so far as me are aware — with Glen-Killoch's sunny 

beyond. In short, the entire features of the fine song 

Glumy Winter's noo nwa," are spread oa in a picture 

» the spectator. We would advise our youthful readers, 

r, to think twice before they address their sweethearts 

« words of the poet, — 

" Come, raj' lanle, let n< tUnf, 

anahill's day the braes were free to all ; now they are 
Uy tabooed, and it would be rather an awkward contrC' 
t to have one's hinnied whisperings interrupted by the 
>1 of a surly gamekeeper, or to have an action of damugts 
d to the "joys that never wearie." 

ehsve now glanced at two sides of the picture which is 
ftomthis "coigne of vantage," but there is still another 

which we must cast an eye. Looking to the westward, 
Utiful tract of country is seen, terminating in a fine range 
Blly undulating hills. In the foreground is the village 
Iderslie, the birthplace of the gre&l CB^>ki\u»s.-^vwiV, 


of love for tlie land vrhose Independence be so nobly struggH 
to secure! Beyond aia seen the villoges of Johnstone Uid 
Kilbnrchan— tlio latter of wliieli Iihs lon^ been celebratid M 
thebirtliplnceofthe fsmoua piper, Uabby Smson, aneffigftC 
frhom, witb his drones over tbe wrong sboulder, still griM 
the pnriah steeple. Every one acquainted witU Scottish wag 
vill doubtless remember tbo favourable mention made of 
Habby by no Icia a personage than Maggie Lauder,— 

Altogether, as we daresay, our readers will admit, eve 
the imperfect enumeralion we have given, there n 
points of vision in Scotland from whence at a glance ai 
objects of sentimental interest may be seen as from the bnw 
of the Paisley Cemetery, while, even to the merest studeiitof 
material beauty, it would amply repay a summer day's m 
A number of the walks round Paisley are of the n 
delightful description. IVitbin the compass of an iiour'* 
atroll in almost any direction, her denizens can conunsDa 
nearly every variety of scenery — including fertile fields, greoa 
flowery knolls, heath-covered braes, romantic glens, sluido"J 
woods, dear gushing streamlets murmuring on their i"Ji 
and silent rivers moving solemnly and alow on their fune™ 
marches to the inBatiate sea,— in short, almost all the sho^ 
and forms of natural beauty which the eye of the poet or ** 
painter could desire. Nor are the inhabitants devoid '* 
urban sources of enjoyment, intellectual or recreative, ^* 
Paisley "bodies" are eminently social, or we might even ' 
clannish. Social and literary coteries are more comiv^ 
among them than in any other community with which 
are acquainted. Wo were lately, through the kindness C 
friend, invited to on onnonl potato and herring dinner 
Renfrew, in connection with a club which wan instituW 
upwards of hiilf a century ago. The following account of ts 
r^/a of the club, and probably from tlte pen of a menfc* 
fAa BtHnbyrgh C/jwwfe of August 31, IBl*-^ 


t so Lappcned, tlmt on a Saturiinj' in autumn, forty-six 
ago, sii or eiglit weavers took their weekly walk Uown 
Btika of the Cart and up the eide of tlie Clyde. By 
me tbey reached the ancient burgh of Kcnfrew tliey 
clined for some rest and ri>frcBhment. They entered 
mble public hoose to have their Trants EuppUed, but the 
dy had nothing in the shape of fcod to offer them 
t a meal of potato ea and he tring!!, which stood ready 
] beaide the fire. The homeliness of the fare was 
' a recommendation than othertvisc. and so neli did 
mpany relish the relreshmeDt and the uasophbticated 
aty with which it was served, that they there and then 
1 themselves into a, club, elected a preses and con- 
and resolved to return annDally, at the same period 
yaar, and dine on herring and potatoes. Since that 
a thia the club has been kept up) and tho members 
Ittended with great regularity— some of the original 
en, who atill survive, never having been once absent 
be dinner. All the original members of the club were 
ra, and for a nambcr of years all who attended it con- 
in the sarae rank. But, by and by, some of them got 
be merchants and itianufacturerB ; and twenty years 
B herring and potato dinner was attended by thirlj-alK 
luals, and not a tradesman amongst them, the meet- 
ing composed of pianuiacturcrs, merchants, bankers, 
8, &c. The same frugal bill of faro is stili adhered 
the sake of the pleasing associations therewith oon- 
, and to keep in remembrance the ' days of luogsyne,' 
the members were glad to have plenty of such humble 
as good herring and potatoes, The cost of the feast 
Bnca! The bond of union among the members is not 
I indulgence, but sociality; and simple natural tastes 
srished by the exclusion of all expensive luxuries from 

ter the dinner the glass Mii UibsX,, fee ».\e».^ *S5^ 
o round; oud it is expeclci iiasA e,-J<rc^ ■^cWJ-n-'S^'^R^'^ 
B something in the shape o£ atQaatu^ 

Fl vaetxT am 

keep Dp the hilarity of tbe neetisg. It it oeeiVen ta 
amy, tbouj;h the 'mirtlt and fun' is seldom either tut * 
Airious, ■ the feoEt of reason and the flow of son)' taiia ^ 
time fleet past with speedy wing, and render the herring wd 
potato dinniT dnj one of the brightest in the year ta 
member of the dub." 

To borrow the ivorda of the immortal Gilpin, whei 
fliej-discuas their least of tubers and " Glasgow magjstmtM," 
" may we be there to aee," or perhaps we should rather tt} 
to pree, for the mere sight of the wholesome and sstodij 
Tiands would prove but a Barmecide ti 

The studiously inclined among the working clim td 

kFusley are well supplied with the means and appliances of 
bitdlectual culture. The Mechanics'" and Artisans' In- 
a^tntions aSbrd, for an extremely moderate aubscriplion. 
abundance of newspapers, periodicals, and books, «i'l< 
accommodtition for harmless amnsements, such as hiUi^u^' 
sad draughts. Such privileges, if properly appreciated ifld 
taken advantage of, as it is to be hoped they are, mast 
ultimately have a highly beneficial influence on the cl 
of tbe population. 

Somewhat tired with our devious wanderings — forhoweT*' 
wiHing the spirit may be, the fleah ia apt under lengthonc" 
exertion to bcconie weak — we are fain, as twilight 
thickening into nigbt, in company .ivith a, (i-iend or two 
seek tbe shelter of a friendly "howff" for rest andamodioi»* 
ofneedful refreshment. "A wee drap frae the Snueel"l»*" 
a. decidedly magical influence on both heart and tongt*- ^' 
and certainly sets time aitkipping with astonishing velocit^^— ' 
It seems as if we had scarcely sat down when the e 
piercing whistle of the "last train" warns us to i 
There is a shaking of hands, a slamming of carriage d 
brief rush through the darkness, and v 
pushing our way through the bustling streets of 

'Since thiM wat wilttto tbe Misliuiloi' InatltuUttn ll»» ' 


ia a charm of imeEteat potency in the lay of tlie poet 
is weddeil to the beautiful in external nature. Both 
d scene sre doubly enrithed by the union. The 
IS gusb of human feeling passing over the fair hosom 
ie landscape, like the south wind upon a bank of violets, 
image from the great triiaeury of imagery, 
re, like "giving and receiving odour." The 
it of Bums to many a stream bus lent " a music sweeter 
It is not themBteriHl loveliness of the Doon, 
Lngar, and the Ayr, thoagh lovely wiindcrers by wood 
irild are they one and all, that leads the pilgrim 'a willing 
)D Ireqaently to their banks. It is not the beauties 
B Flora dJsclospa among the green links of the Tweed, 
iBTTow, and the Ettrick whinh bring so many loving 
Id gaze on their rippled bosoms. To those who adruire 
fcowa and ftrms of the great mother in all their native 
I, these murmuring beauties of our native land would in 
ase be dear. But when to their other attractions is 
1 the living light of song; when they arc associated 
.the heart utterances of beings with kindred passions 
1, who have loved, and hoped, and feared — who 
iayed and sorrowed, smiled and wept by their gushing 
Ifels— then, indeed, do they become unto oar souls even 
Bowed things, and the spirit yearns to behold them, 
t would to gaze upon an absent friend, and longs to 
. . ir liquid voices as it docs for that of one whom ma 
bred mtb a perfect love. Few are 1.\va tutwww" ■s^'fw.v 
birp ««]£- breathing laud, w¥ick catvTio\, Nao'iisis. ■Coras 


I omi peculiar strains ; nnd few, indeed, tire tb^Mng-bailKlM 

Btrettms irltli which these eyes hitrc not, at one liiM m 

I other, been gladdened. Beyund the Tweed, however, that 

, ore many Yarrowa yet nnvisiteJ. Shak«peare's Atoh h 

[ to us a dream ; the fairy Duddon and the sylvan Wj* 

murmur for ua in WorJiWorth's verse alone ; while the Ot» 

I of gentle Cowper wa can only see "in the mind's ejo, 

Horatio," as it flowyth in pliicid sweetness throngh iJk 

landscape of " The Task." Would it were ours, this si 

I September day, to thread the maxea of some one or otherd* 

' these eon g- en chanted streams I (o tread in the foot^tepi vl 

departed genius, and to look upon the scenes which, in infl 

gone by, the poet loved and sung! The wish in vwn. Even 

in these duys of speedy transit it mny not be ; bo we 

even make a virtae of necessity, and spend our golden 

interval of auturanal leisure, in a pilgrimage to Eeencrynsl 

less fiiir, though happily more familiar — the land of our o»« 

sweet singer, Kobcrt T:mnahill. 

The year is fulling into the "sere and yellow ]eai,"t^ 

the reapers are busy among the white Gelds of harvMt 

There is still a fuinl lingering indication of nocturnal fiw' 

in the morning air, but the sun, with its golden ulaDla of 

> rfBhince, from a sty of mingled blue and white, gives pW- 

Imise of a glorious day, as wo shape our course towards tbe 
terminus of the " South- Western," on our route to tie 
ancient town of Paisley. Our train is in waiting wilt • 
snorting engine at its head, and, puiictual to the minute, «» 
find ourselves in rapid motion along the iron way. Thit* 
is something esceedingly exhilaratmg in a brief rush by wl 
into the country. As with the minga of a bird, we tOT "^ 
' once borne from the city's bustling maze into the frsshM* 
' and beauty of the scattered farms and viUages. The sf 
of sight, wbicb bus been " cabined, cribbed, confined 
within the wearj- waste of walls, is again permitted " wopl* 
scope and verge enough," and wandera with a feeling W 
JjsHefand glmhteaa over tlie ttai fiice oC iua>is«,ij>^]& 

■fnr^ [leptba of our bcart y 

Brief space for reflKution is now afforJed to the trnvcller 
Mtwpert the Broomiekw and the Sneddon. There are fine 
ioalches of landscape, however, by tho nay, Dnshing past 
iie DL'at little suburb of FollokBhiulds — tbe pictui*e!!que villaa 
if which hftve sprung up as if by enchantment — we hava the 
ine spire of Gavan rising over ita girdlo of oncietit elms to 
bB right ; and in the distance beyond, the brown Kilpatrick 
lUliaeem as If they were hastening to meet ua. Kow we 
lire a cosie farm-stead rushing past — then a stately man- 
UM, half-hidden in foliage— and anon we catch a passbg 
linpse of Crookston's shattered tower rising against the 
ori«on to the left. At length, emerging from the lunnel 
f Arkleston, the smoke of Paisley is seen curling hizily to 
ie ikj, and the train, passing Greenlaw, with Its verdant 
>«ni and leafy clumps of trees, soon comes to a, pause, and 
Uotarges a considerable portion of its living freight. 
We have a warm side to Paisley and its " bodies," Some 
f oar happiest days were spent in that locality, utid we have 
«'er experienced more genuine hindnesa than amoagst ita 
™bltants. Kowbcre else have we such " troops of friends," 
fid nowhere else do we meet so many smiling faces and 
^ly extended bands, or so many homes where wo ore 
frlain of a maroi and hearty welcome. Blcseinga he upon 
liM and thy denizens, old town ! and may the prosperity 
liich now shines upon thee be of long continuance I May 
'■Jtrnde flourish and thy comforts increase! and may the 
'ft of song, In which so many of thy sons have excelled, still 
111 ita moat faithful votariea in thee I But, talking of poetry, 
'* are reminded that a young poet of most ample promise — 
"e whose name has already travelled tar on the wbgs of 
eet us here; and see, there he is. In front of 
itatcly baronial pile, the Counlj Enscm, a-fiii\fe.t wot 
t and, staff in linnd, prepared tor ftie ^^vtE.^'jf. ■'"^ 

«« whoEi 



have clinlkeiJ out for ourselves. As we pMS along anotlii 
friend of kindred spirit is piiied up, and, congratuklingou 
selves on the best Jay of tlie reason, we thread our way 
the "west end," nnd, nflcr a brtef interval, mate our a 
from the town by way of Maswellton, in the direction (J 
Glctiifler DrAi!S. This fine range of hills is situated abont toi 
miles to the southward of Paisley — tbe intervening coimtij 
consisting principally of gently swelling undulations, part i! 
which are covered with trees, but the greater portion beio| 
coltivatedoruniterpasture. We nre now upon classic gi 
amid scenes which have been immortalized in ncver-d^ 
Bong, Along the path which we are now treading Boba 
Tannaliill, the weaver poet of Paisley, has often strayed, tl 
glean the sweet natural imagery with which his lyrics 
delightfully interwoven. The place of his birth and his bty 
hood, tbe scene of his toils and his pleasures, and, alas I tint 
gf his melancholy death, are all in the immediate ni 
hood. Some half-century ago the poot might have beO 
Been stealing out, on this very road, in the sumoier glotuv 
ings, when the midges were dancing aboon the bum, to Bpa> 
a few hours alone with nature, after the labours of iba M 
were over. These green knolls have often rung n 
echoes of his flute ; and perhaps these yery trees whirfl « 
now rustling in the autumnal breeze have munnured ' 
mony with his voice, as he chanted in solitude the a> 
song as it cume nolllng from his heart. The surface of h 
country, however, has undergone niaterlal alteradon KUt 
those dajB. T^fhere the yellow blossoms of the whin D 
golden tassels of the broom then waved immolated b 
passing wind, the ploughshare has since passed, and.*! 
was formerly n barren wilderness is now a pkc 
fertility. Were the poet coming to life agi 
scarcely recognize, indeed, the haunts of his early lovB?^! 
Passing Meikleriggs Moor, where the monster J 
raeetlngs of Paisley have been long beVd, kvA kmilig 4 
^ CwatgAarfton b^trnd, we booix ftrcwo at tiMtogH* 


B Pusley Water Company, also a. new featare in the 
indscnpe nniie the departure of tbe poet. At Clie south- 
ettcomerof this largeaheet of water, and generally entirely 
irronnded by it, stands the ancient and withnl picturesque 
^e of Stanley. This venemble pile is alluded to on 
Eiersi occasions in the writings of Tannahill. Every one 
lill tentember that most beautiful passage id one of hia 

Iftlling in 1801 to his fidend and brother poet, Scadlock, 
'lo was then located in Perth, he also refers to the old 
Br io the lines, — 


, indeed, to have been a favourite haunt of 
Umahill Stanley green shaw, however, is now no more. 
U ote is swallowed up in the capacious bosom uf the reser- 
51r, and where the birks once waved in the luxuriance of 
ouner, the mavis no longer "sings fu' cheerie, 0." 
Fortunately, at the time of our visit, the water in the 
fnuckle dam" is exceedingly low, in consequence of which 
e'oid castle is standing high and dry, bo that we are enabled 
inspect it minutely. This edifice, which is of uoknown 
lie, consists of a quadrangular teep about forty leet in 
:ight, with a rectangular tower of equal elevation, origin- 
Ij designed to afford protection to the principal entrance, 
ound the top there is a cornice, the corbels of which pro- 
ct considerably, and seem at one period to have been sur- 
cruu[«d by a series of small turrets. These, nitb the entire 
lof, have now disappeared, however, leavbg the structure, 
bifh is rent and sliattered in various places, iu an cicecd- 
g\y tulnoas condin'on. The window cmbtaaULrta »ia »»»Si. 
il narrow, aad the wall is pierced ol \n\.<srjuia Ni-j Nji«\ 


holes, irLich have doubtless contribated to the defetufioflh 
inmatea in llio lawless days of old- Every crevice undsM" 
Cf the weatber-benteD castle ia overrun nilk vegetati 
lichens, and mosses, and miaute feme — nlilb the long 
waves above the walls, imparting to them an aspect of tin 
dreariest desolation, By a huge gap in one of ilsimmansdj 
thick sides we make our entree to the ioterior of the so" 
edifiife. The desolation wltbin is even more strikini 
aSecting tbao tbat which meets the eye outside. The s|ll 
of rooDess and weed-peopled balls, the vestiges of cliimiiEj) 
still black with the fires which n hundred years ago 
dim, of staircases worn by the feet of long, long depwW 
humanity, of vaults which bring the miseriible captli 
long ago before the inward eye, all strike upon a si 
chord of sympathy within ua, and escite to serions mi 
tion upon the traneitorinesa of ull earthly things. Fse 
such a scene has full scope, and immediately begins to sDD 
mon up the dead. The silent cbambers are once more tee 
ing with living forms — knights, and lords, and litdies I 
Here the master of the keep once more prepares him foe 
fight — from that window the weeping mistress again Im 
forth upon her warrior's departure, or emiles h' 
home. Pictures of birth, marriage, and dealh— the Uo* 
marks of all human life, the eventa of a!I earthly hornet- 
start up before us, and we joy or sorrow as they come 
go, as if the creatures of imagination were still our felloe 
pilgrims between the cradle and the grave. But seel up 
the green floor there, in the shaft of sunlight that com 
through yonder loop-hole, a bright-winged butterfly, I 
glowing tints of red. and black, and brown, resplendent 
the light I now rich the contrast of his radiant hoes "i 
the verdant lichens, upon which he ts couched, and titet 
gray walls aroundl 'Tis a speck of living glory on tliB vC 
heart of ruin. In wrapt admiration we gaze in 
Mo gorgBOua insect, as he lingers for a moment t 
-of ^imt laoat anuiaat baU, sad then gOBB flu^enos!^ 



his wny. Tia a trifling incident ; jot, in sncli a place 
and in siich a, mood as we arc, trillea hava power lo touch 
thu Ucart. " lie prcacheth too," oa Jean Paul has said. 
Aj. tbia 

Are lirlglil cmblaionlng*" 
IS bill a tj-pe of human grandeur — of human life ; a thing of 
lettnly for a moment Keen, and then for ever lost. Children 
oft day, nrc sport from flower to flower, while tho lun ia in 
the sky, and death meets us in the dews of gloaming. Foil 
Biny a butterfly of humankind have these sturdy old walls 
iiKircIed, who lies now gone the way of all living, and 
long nfttr the tri(i of friends who are now musing on thb 
tiMuteoTis insect of a day have passed the dark " bourne 
»lieace no traveller returns," they will still lift a weuther- 
liCMcn front to the pcltinga of the pitiless storm. The things 
our onn hands have made ore far more losling than we. 

AKTniling a narrow stair ia the ca^lle, we find ouredvea 
fna cammanding platform, which, through a huge gap in 
Wwull, presents a magniliceilt view of the country to the 
wnbnard : but, as we eboll have the pl('a:jure of witneaeing 
we same landscape on a more extended acal<s from the brow 
"f Ihi! adjoining braes, we shall not linger here to attempt 
't) description. So, making our exit by tho channel which 
'ime bos gnawed in the wall, apparently to permit us a 
I'^Wge, we take farewell of the hoary edifice. About thirty 
JVdg or so to the south-west of the castle, ho wevar, we again 
Pn atirselvea pause to examine tho shall and pedestal of a 
"evixa t>ld stone oross, which, from time imnieEQorial, stood 
■here the reservoir is now excavated, and which haa long 
"Can a puzzle to local antiquaries. We lind, to our regret, 
''lia interesting relic removed from the rude socket in which 
H itgod, and lying ingloriously prostrate on the ground, 
*liere it has evidently lain for a consideriililo time past. 
*llii, in popuhir parlance, is called l\ic " Viamia'SA'OT.fC^ tkA. 
~~~- uscrihcsita origin to some o£ \\ioao to\w?.~S>«^«4' 


warriors who wei'e In the habit of lli¥ouring our Cale^ 
mres of a far iltstiint era with occasioDal viaica of a I 
□alure. It was supposed that odb of their leadera Lac 
elaiu aud wag buried at this spot, and that the sCon 
erected to pcrpeluate Wg memory, Thcpe can b« 
doubt, however, that it is in realitj a fragment of i 
those ancient monameotal crosses wbich were at one i 
plenteooely erected by out Popish forcfatben, Eenu 
such erections are, indeed, still to be found in Tariotu 
of the country. Examining the prostrate stone, we 
to be between four and five fast in length, with faint ye 
barely Tinblo indeed, of sculptured animala npon one 
sides, and traces of wrentbed work, better defined, i 
upon its edges. What species of animated forms we 
signed to be represented on this fragment of the past. It 
require more acute eyes than ours now-a-days to dis 
but we liiarn from Sample, the county historian, who 
in 1762, that on what was thea the west aide, and w 
nowtbe upper one, " there were two lions near the baf 
two boars a little above." The old stone, howerc 
forgotten the tale which it was intended to tell; it 
almost a blank, and if permitted to remain much Ion 
the cold earth, exposed to the action of wind and wi 
it will soon be indistingalsbable from an ordinary {u 
mason-work. To such a favour, indeed, most the pr 

Gradually ascending, we have now the beautiful rai 
the GleniSer Braes immediately before us. That dark 
in our front, surmounted with gloomy firs on either i 
the glen from which the braes derive their name. 
deep rocky guily, bounded by steep overhanging w»I 
with a brawling torrent rushing foamily down its i 
channel. Observe, the fine beech at one side of the ei 
is already tinged with gold, as if October had w. 
dasbcdit whb his meJJowiiig wing. Fain would wa 
"^a* S'eada retder, up that most ^lurasqntt t«s^ 



itireknow ita every linn and pool; but my lord's game 

gilt chante to bo disturbed, or haply we migbt fall in with 

Lue one of hU lordship's surly keepere, than whom we had 

&a eaiMiintfr a raging bear. So wu muet even content 

s with the highway, which, as you observe, slopes 

ifiiUy up hill to the westward. Before proceeding, 

Mir, we may mention that the scene before ua ia supposed 

gu to be the "dusky glen" alluded to in Tanmdiill's 

^Dc becinoing — ■ 

" We-ll iii«l bwlde tlirj doity nkn, on joti barnslclE. 

■ spot certainly ai^ces in all its features with the 
tj referred to in the song; the "birken bower," the 
gmy knowes," the " sweetly murmuring stream," &c., 
B here aa the poet has described them. As if, moro- 
to corroborate tba statement that this is the veritable 
f glen," we may record an incident which we have 
Kd on the bent authority. One sweet summer evening, 
Wnc the beginning of the present century, the poet and 
t brother (Mr. Ualthew Tannabill, who still survives, a 
tie and venerable old man) were taking their usual walk 
igcllier afler the toils of the day, on the braes in this 
«iBitj. By the time they reached the place where we are 
n standing, that is to say, iuimediately below Gleniffei 
^iper, the sun was slowly unking beneath the horizon, 
ke nholc vale of the Clyde was filled, as it were, with the 
wl radiance of the departing orb, and the gray bills were 
lowing in a warm ruddy hue. \Vliat principully attracted 
'e poet's attention, however, was the effect which the flood 
' light had produced upon certain trees in the neigbbour- 
Md, which were gilded as with a glittering halo by the 
liilgent beams. On observing the phenomenon he imme- 
Mely cried out in ecstacy to his brother, " Look here, 
^Lthew I did you ever see anything so exquisitely beautiful ! 
^y. the very leaves plimmer aa gm iVj 'mctc t«i%«A. -wi 
'•nl " Shortly a/ler this the aong ftppteuJcA, oa*^ *!«■ '^'^S* 

brotlicr at odcc remembered tlio circumstance vhidiU 
givL-n birtb to the finest verse in the production, — 

Then we'll tant, my cud duor Jean 1 dmm by ym liiiinilde.'' 
There is an opioion generally entertained in Paisley M 
ita vicinity, however, that the locale of the son^ ia a certui 
"dusky glen" on the Alt- Patrick bum, about a conplt if 
milea north-west from our present position. It wolild tM 
difficult indeed to prove definitely whiuh of the plica 
poet had in his mind \thcn the cfTusion was written. 
are in fnvour of the Glenlffer theory from the ciruumBUnM 
ftbove stilted, but when the poet's surviving friends re& 
from speaking anthoritatively ou the subject ire must 
moderate in the advocacy of our views. Either glen is sd 
denlly beautiful to jtiatjfy the taste of the author. 

The sons of " Gloomy winter's noo awa' " is perhaps M 
most popular, aa it ceitainly is the most exquisite of Tuinw 
hill's songs. There is a melodious sweetness an this ttni^j 
combined with a tenderness of sentiment and a trulbCuliMXj 
of natural imagery, which have rarely been cqunlleii, 0*] 
which, unless by a lew of the best lyrical efiusions of fiuMrj 
have never been surpassed. The scene of ibis dehghlful Iffi 
now lies before us, beautiful even as it was when the p4< 
aaw it in the light of his own genius. To the eastward lil 
Glen-Eilloch, towards which, in the song, he invites b 
"young," his "artless dearie" to stray; to the west arelS 
''Newton woods," over which the laverock fanned W 
"snaw-white cluda" on the "gowden day" alluded to, "M 
" Gleniffer's dewy dell " opens its verdant bosom hefore* 
We have heard it prosaically objected to this song, that 4 
Newton woods are too far west for the ear to distinguish tB 
laverock's lilt, wliilo Gleniffer is at hand ; and that GiB 
Killoch ia a shade too liir east for a couple of lovers 
'n'thiB the compass of an easy wa\k. ■, but afautedly tHi 
"fe* aiade the objeetioa yrere neitber poete 



flity would haTO known better the extent of license which 
boii poet and lover require for tleir enjoymenta. To tlie 
lover no ramble is too Ion" when his charmer is by his side, 
arii tbe ear of the poet is gleg beyond tie comprehension of 
ordinary mortals. 

Wkt is t!ie " craw-flower" alluded to in this aong? is a 
ijuestioc to which varioui answErs hftve been returned. The 
litlie celandine of Wordsworth has been pointed out to us 
« the "craw-flower" of Tannahill, and also tbe crowfoot or 
biHoroup of our meadows. It ia neither of these, however. 
He CMw-fiower of the poet ia the wild hyacinth of our woods,, 
' W* ijaeinttu.i rion-scriplas of the botanist, which, with its 
R of blue-bella, swcetena the brt'ath of M^tuid June, 
le local name of thia beautiful fiowcr is the " urawtae," 
i by this name also it ia mentioned in the writings of 
1, who, it will be remembered, in Lynilwr, invokes ths ■ 
!w their blooms on the tomb of hia lost Irtcnd : — 

' Brlntt the ratho prirarom that firsaken dies, 
The litflHf cnruiH snd pale jeBMiulne. 
Tlie wliite pink, ihd llic^aDiyffAiiktdMithJi!!, 

The mnsk-rom »nil Ihe irell-sltlroil woodbtne. 

nie celandine is not a bell but a star; neither ia It bine 
'"«lour; and WD learn from another song that Tannahill's 
"craw-Bowcr" was blue; but in addition to this, we know 
'iiat "feathery hretkana"' fringed the rocks at the season 
lUudiid to in the song, and every botanist knows that by 
'he lime the fronds of the fern are unfolded the bloom uf the 
ver, while that of the hyai:Inth is at its prime, 
te craw-flower of " Gloomy winter's noo awa," therefore, 
■ reality tliB iweet-scentcd blue-bell of the early summer; 
B which our indigenoaa Flora can boast bnt few lovcliKr 
It ia jast the image which a poet would seltct lor 
•'Wtness and modesty in the lassie of hb heart. 
Our »nv is now up bill, and as we ftiUa.TKje fot -^aB^sw. 
y witleus snd becomeB move ititewaJcmt ''i^o* do»s- 


ftcter of the Tegetation also becomes altered. Flowers whick 
are unknown on the rich fluts below here bloom pruiiualyiit 
all their nodve loveliness. The bracken, the heather, and 
the mjTlle-leaved blaeberry lend a kind of AljMne festure to 
the Bnelling knolls ; while fringing the margin of the pUk 
we have the delicute wild pansy, the fiury blae-hell, »nd ll» 
grncelul bed-stmwa white and yellow. Passing a cemibrt' 
able looking fann-house, with a few fine umbrageous pli»- 
treei4 hy its side, one of which has an immenie halloviDiH 
tronl^ we at length, in a bend of the road, arrive at a Itttla 
natural fountain trickling from a green bank by the wiysde. 
The gush IB small, but unfiuling in the highest noons of nail- 
mer, and tfas water is delidously coot and clear, 
a crystalline draught are we indebted to that tiny 
in our ramblea over these braes, alone or in compsn; vift 
' valued friends, have we come for rest and retresiiment to 
this secluded but cominandbg ^ot. Many ai 
groups we have seen ctfcled around it, while each indiridml 
in turn dipped his beard in its stdnless bosom. Fair futt, 
too, have we seen mirrored in ita waters, while rosy lipshw* 
met — substance and shadow — on its cool, dimpled 
Were we a rich man we pbould pft thee a handsome b»«ni 
thou well-loved little fountuin ; but silver and 
none ; so thou must even content thyself with a humbli 
poet's honest meed of pruifiu :— 

Anil CTDonn a Lui^h sang a' !□ plouoru Itsct' 
The buiinle wes weU o]i tliE brelst o' the tne 

re rii!hli MppUcd. 

n' birdi dip tbelr 

•111 die lait yrtea his wi 


Hiob bonnle wee woU an the trelB o' Ihe btat, 

For, lbs Mend! 1 ba'e loyefi In tbs yaut Ihat arc eene j^H 

Ei'skuelib; tbyliiiin, uAUiTgualibu'epuru'eii. "^H 

Tliijn bonnle wee well on tbe trolm o' the brae, ^^ 

, ^d m; tern will bol taallaw tbji boiom ate talc. 
Tboa bonnle wee wall on tbe breliit d^ ths brai^ 
Ur btofislnir rEBla wUh tbBfl. wbcrB^rer 1 BIrav; 
lnlo» uid In Mimw. In luiahloe and gloom. 
I-irUldnimoftbybeButy, [by fiaalineu and bloom. 
Is lbs depth! of the city, nildit Cunnoli and noise, 

WbUo &ncy takea wing to (hy rich frinsa ntRreen, 
And qiutb thy No) wslert bi noon's jiowden gheen, 

IIS now glance at the picture whicii is spread before 
id wB Ten]/ believe tbat a fairer one exists not in 
Scotland. At our feet ia the old Gastlo of Stanley, 
its sheet of ivater glittering in the son ; beyond is the 
3nt basm of the Clyde, stretching away to the 
and Eilpatrick Hills, with all its garniture of woods 
^i matisions niid farms, villages and towos, set down 
In the middle distance are Paisley and Rea- 
to tlie right oar own good etty with itscanopy of Emoke, 
left Elderslie, Johnstone, and Kilbarchan. Snatches 
.Clyde &nd ita tribatary Cart ore to be discovered here 
bere ; while long trails of Eteom mBrk the various courses 
To the fur right we have the Cathkin Braea, to 
Jt Strath-GryfTe, with the billa above Port-Glasgow, 
"lie Mistilaw. On the horizon to the north a grand 
of the western Highlands meets the view, with Benlo- 
iBBd a score of uther gigantic peaks raising their dan 
agunst the sky. Such are the landmarks of this 
u amphitheatre ; but what pencil or what pen shall 
tiCB to its beautiful details? 0! a. truth, not oars. 
ens, indeed, baffles description. It is on too mighty 
for words, and it contains within ita scope material 
landscape delineations. 
Jrtl^ flfier Jesring tbe well we Ten!t\i 'Cna ixrai^*. ^& 
ij^ wbea our course from a wcsVwati iwt^Aisiw \MS«a> 


almiist due south. Wc have now reached a land fli tt 
lanil. consisting principally of moorland pnatnre, '■iitb 
and ibere large putcbes of cold arable soil, and 
tracts of peat-bog. ITie fertile valley ivliicli we have ba 
contemplating becomes gradually screened from oot gsze 
the brow of Ihe hill, and a comparatively sterile tract 
before ub. Wb are now wending our way to a Idi 
hostelry situated among dreary moora, and • 
known to ramblers fram Paisley by the appropriate title 
the " Peeseweep Inn." Aftw mlnatea' wall^ brings nit* 
spot. The houae ia a lowly one-storeyed edifice, Tit 
peat-stack at one end, a rowan-tree in front, and ■ t 
yard behind. Above the door there was formerly a apit 
representation of the bird from which the inn takes tla m 
The Diek-'nnto who executed the picture ao well in ol 
respects, however, bad, by some oversight or other, neglo 
to fumish the poor bird wilh a crest. This omission 
naturally the cause of considerable jocularity among 
gangrel bodies who frequented the house ; and wbd 
offended at this circumstance or not we cannot take u 
Dursetvca to say, but the peeseweep has token wing from 
former position, and the inn is at present without a siga. 
mHlJng OUT eitlree we are kindly received by mbe hoste* 
the Peeseweep, and are at once shown ben to the spei 
An abundant supply of excellent bread, butter, and ohs 
with a jug of milk which never tnew the pump, soon gi 
the board. Our lengthened walk has given appetili 
edge of exciuisite keenness, and the destruction which Jm 
diately ensues is really awtiil to contemplate. A flo* 
caulker concludes the repast ; and, let the grumblers fa 
Timu, whohaverccentljbeen crying out against the nipBf* 
charges of our modem Bonifaces, hear and wondet— ^ 
imiied bill is somewhHt under a couple of shillings! 
Jjsaviag out inn — the landlord of which is certilnlyia' 
a sad laggard behind the spirit of tlie &5.e-Jire' 


fiLENlFFKlt XSD EL&EftSI.lE, 253 

Oountry path far about a-quarter of a mill:, until 
'arrive at a bridge, wliich crosses a fine frolicsome burn 
leaves a moorland lodi a little to the southward, and 
aes a devious downward course to the Bluck C&rt, 
h it joins Eomenhere in the vicinitj of Uonood. This 
B Alt-Fatrick burn, and down its winding wa,y it is our 
Itioo, even at the risk of encountering the gamekeeper, 
Mntinue our pilgriinage. Giunekccpcrs, alter nil, are 
Den, and a " soft answer tumeth awaj wrath." We 
seldom, indeed, come in conta^zt with specimens of thij 
puliur genus in our numerous trespasses hy wood and 
and, in the ftw instanct-s where we have, a civil 
or two — and " civility cosla nothing" — hiive generoUj' 
[hi OS off with fljing colours. So, without a thought of 
^ionKqucncos, wc follow the guidance of the streamlet, 
inre a more plaj-ful or more beautiful little water never 
ted poet's foot to stray adown its sweot meander, and 
Jag, The inimitable verse of Bums ia, in truth, 
1 every feature,— 

■■ Whilei awern lliiii tie TramlB nUji, 

it seems to sleep in some aweet pool, as if loath to leave 
t BO fair; anon it is rippling merrily onward, foaming 
I some projecting rock ihat seems to bar its passage, 
ij sweet music to the enamelled stones ; and again it 

playfiilly over some tiny linn, and gushes rapidly on 
ly, with foam-belts winking on its dark brown breast. 
Irely we follow its many links and turns, stooping at 
ut intervals to regale ourselves on the wild fruits with 

iU tangled margin abounds. The blackboyd is here 
yfljety- bunch, ivhilc, strange cocymi^vni, 'Cw* Vffl)R.- 

tbe bindberry, and the Btta-wbeiTj wc ;&- ^'i ^ 


guthered at once in tbe eame nook. Such a ni^etin^ tC 
beiriea we have ne?er seen before. It would aljnost sal 
ai if July, August, and Septi^mber had agreed among ty 
sweet aclvea to enrich at once with their peculiar fniia di 
favoured burn. How we enjoy the treat I The omniTaW 
appetite of our schoolboy-day b aeeniB to have revisited 9 
inner man once more, while our heart beata lightly in a 
breast aa in the days o' langayne, vrhen 

"Woplmideroa Uiehmol, the bramble, Bnd ritw." 
As we advance the bnnlcs become more steep and bosVf.pi 
seating at every turn glimpses of beauty which would 611 i 
painter's heart with joy. Anon, haiiels androiwansof rid* 
rod are added to our sylvan bill of fare. At one spot 
peculiar loveliness we turn to acaa our poetical fHend'a cam 
teoADce, espectlng to End bim in rapt admiratioD, gi»< 
on its charms. No such thing; the senauous scouadrd 
absorbed in the mysieriea of a map-bush, which be 
despoiling of its crimson gems with an avlility approachil 
to the sublime ; while bis companion is gazing with t (s 
and-grnpo sort of expression at an un -come-at-able clmt 
of blusbing rowans I Steeper and more steep are tiieban 
becoming, and at length ne bear the roar of a water™ 
bidden iu foliage, and half-dronuing the sweet song of tl 
redbreast with its din. Who would have thought tl 
sportive streamlet could have mustered such a Tolnme 
voice? Passing through the gloaming of the wood, 1 
obtain a glimpse of the cataract, which may be about tUr 
feet in height. The water is daahed down in one wii 
sheet, which haa a most pleasing effect as it is seen throo] 
its green vale of overhanging boughs. It ia a thing to 
seen, however, rather than painted, as the intervening foli^ 
somewhat destroys its pictorial capabilities. ImmedisW 
below the fall the stream winds pleasantly away thronga 
raat green basin, whhh has apparently been scooped onf ' 
aoods of countless ages. The waters in I'iia S^ 
J soon resume their gentle cliatatii^^H^B 

n rest by its margin & picturesque group of tattle are lazily 
rn^ling in the fonm- fretted shallowa. 

This, we suspect, is the scene of Tannahill'a little pastoral 
Iramfl, "The Soldier's Return," which, ns a whole, ia ad- 
icitled to be the least su(^GeBBfuI of the weaver poet's pro- 
Inctiong. Indeed, in several recent editions of his pocmij, 
It ia omitted altogether, with the exception of the Gne songs 
Willi which it was BO profusely interaporaed. Some of these 
wa among his most aucceasful eflbrta ; and in one of them 
he makes his heroine allude to natural beauties simitflr to 
tbouj of this locality, when she is about to leave Glenfeoch, 
Md Ler " mammy and her daddie, O," to go in search of 
liw " braw Hiehind laddie, O." The mid fruits, amid which 
n revelling, are specially dwelt upon, as ivitness: 

IB Kladlr, c 

1 cloarly, [ 



Be ., .„ „, .„., 

Be pdM ma the iCmbciTy, red frae the fotur itl"ii : 
Ucpu'd me the row'n. fmi- Ititr wild HMf He tlddv. ; 
«u loTlDg mi ue iiai wu m; dear llleUDd Liddle, u." 

can donht that the sweet singer of Paialej- has often, 
countr}- rambles, come down the filen bs we have 
"Ow done! or that like us, he has partaken freely of ihe 
oanquet which Nature spreadeth for our acceptance in the 
*iJdeme3sl We now bid adieu to this charming little glen, 
"hero we have spent aconple of hours right pleasantly; and 
"B doubt not that the laird will heartily forpive our harm- 
■W), though unauthorized intrusion into his moat benuiitul 
B shall certainly accord unto him an equal 
[6 when he deigns to visit the broad, very broad lands 
in onr lair^Iship. Like those of the famous 
n Tiddler," however, wu are afraid they will be some- 
■dlfficult of discovery. 

w for Eldertlie. The distance may be somewhere 
Bile and a-half, and as our shadows are waxing 
'baaljriong, we must not loittr bj Ihe-wa-^- Xt^wt^iia 
Ifr little of a nolicoable luUure on tW ^siMVa-,"'*^'^'^- 


SS6 fiLBviFFEB aud StaxBSLO!, 

as well, with tbe render's leave, just skip over th 
itig BpBce, and deposit ourselves at oiice in 1 
locality. Eldcrslie, or "Elleralie," ns it is i 
spelled, is a small etrogjjlizig village, principally conststiog 
tiro rungea of commonplace -looking Louses, erected 
tide of the highway leading wcatward from Paisley, and iLk 
dLitnnce of fully two miles Irom that town. The populstiodi 
who are for the most part of the operative class, ntiinbiit 
about one thousand two hundred, or thereby. It is is tl» 
birthplace of Scotland's great warrior-chief, Sir Willi"* 
Wallace, however, that Elderslic is chiefly remarkable, it 
Buciu has poetically said, — 

The spot on which he w.ia bom, the scenes of his nmnar 
□us battles with tbe enemies of his country's independenMi 
hia TariouB hidinji-plaueB in aeasons of adversity — imlesii 
every place and object assodated with the naroe of Wslto* 
is hallowed in the memory of every true-hearted Scott- 
man. This brave but ill-requited chief was the eldest W 
of Sir Malcolm Wallace of Eiderslie, by a daughter of St, 
Ronald Crawford, Shctiff of Ayr. Near the weal a 
the village a house is painted out as the identical e 
in which the hero first saw the light Approacbing the q 
and making inquiry, this structure is pointed out to i 
admiring eyes by an individual of somewliut crusty appM 
snce, who is apparently about to enter the auld big^n'. , 
■ glance, wo pcrcdve, from its architectural cb&racter f 
comparatively modern aspect, that tbe ediGce is of m] 
more recent origin than the date assinued to it. ' 
expressing our doubts on this point to the individual alliM 
to, he retorts, " Ay, but ye're lookin' at the ivrang placn 
thegitber; it's no the big house iiva, but this wee place h 
irians WaUace was bora. Come in by— never mini . 

^ -J 


) K1.DEE3L1E. 

;— lie doBn, sir! (addressing tlie dog aforesaid, a most 
fierce and vilWoons-looking mastiff that was atraioing with 
ifreidfnl violence on its chain to reach the intruders)— coma 
in by, and gang in at that door, that's Wallace's kitchen." 
So saying, lie tnrna on his heel, and disappears, m»i 
ccrcmiinie, in the doorway. Entering the kitchen, we find it 
to be a dark low-roofed ehamber of small dimensions, bat 
with a fire-plaee suffiiiiently capacious to have cooked a 
rappor, not only for Wallace, hut ut the same time for a 
lirge section of liia army. This part of the structure is 
deciJedly ancient; hut we should imagine it must have been 
erected long subsequent to the days of our hero. There can 
lie little doubt, however, that it was on this very site that 
loo borne of Sir Malcolm Wallace once stood. TJnvarj'ing 
tradition afflmis the circumstance; and, as if to corroborate 
'tis, in some measure, about thirty years ago a stone, bearing 
the following inscription in Roman characters, was dug from 
'itt foundation of the garden wall: " W, W. W. Christ is 
Illy taj Redeemer." The initiuls in thia are auppMed to 
■cftr to two proprietors of Eldersiie, who bora the name and 
inrnamB of William Wallace. This curious relic is now, we 
itdentaDd, in the possession of Alexander Speirs, Esq. of 
^^Idfralie. In the garden there is a venerable old yew-tree, 
'bich b popularly known aa " Waltaoe's Yew," not, we 
iiagine, from any supposed connection with the hero, but 
"Qply fi^m the sitnalion in which it stands. Kepassing 
'W canine friend, who agiiiu takes the full length of his 
ether, and upon whom we feel every inclination to bestow a 
itfie wholesome chastisement, we now proceed a short 
'IRuicB farther east, for the purpose of paying our respects 
' Ibe famous " Wallace oak." Thia sylvan giant is now the 
lerest wreck of what it was even a few years ago. Time 
ad the storms of centuries have done their share of the 
"oA, but, worse than all, the relic-hunters, have bean 
angly oibWing at the once slate\\ tree- \i\.'Cw, -mtitt 
' a blaciened torso, indeed, ai iW Q\i Q^ ■vfis-.'-™» 



with a fcv strangling shoots alone sbowing ajicpCoin) of 
ntalitj. According to tradition, Wallace and some of tiH 
followeta, on one occasion, when hotly pursued hy tie 
vindictive Southrons, found shelter and safety among tlii 
leafy branches of this tree. ^Ve shall not inquire 
curiously into the probability of the story, lest m 
sceptical age we get laughed at for our pains; but tho fai 
that the ancient and sadly scathed oak has been 
assocbted with our favourite nationn! hero's name sboulJ 
reinder it nn object of interest to every patriotic ScotliA 
breast. In the year 1825 the trunk of the Wallace 
ineasuri>d 21 feet in drcumference at the base, and 13 Act 
2 inches at the height of 5 feet from the ground, 
then 67 feet in altitude, and tho branches extended 45 fc* 
east, 36 west, SO south, and 25 north, covering altogether 
space of Id English poles. Since then it has been b« 
shorn of ita fair proportions, and probably in the course d 
few years it will be numbered among the things that wer 
Takbg off our hats in reverence to the decaying giant,' 
bid it farewell, and turn onr faces toward home. The Uj 
is beginning to thicken, and the "lengthening train of crw 
are hieing them away to their roosCing-places in the disD 
woods. Half- an -hour's smart walk brings us t<j 
where wo receive a kindly welcome in the domiralt 
friend and compiinion. 



°r tha pCDstrala glaul. Mr Speira of IlOen 
B, BULl W Ihe ibuILcred [lauk conieycd U 


k of Oie most interesting, if not of the most pictureBque 

M ID the vicinity of our utj is that doirn the margin of 

ir to the " Water Neb," where the mingled slrenms 

e Black and White Cai'ta, blended with the GrjiTo, 

9 thfflT watery tribute into the bosom of tlic Clyde. 

tB the fedlitiea of transit aiforded by the river steamers, 

continually passing and repassing between the 

T and the various watering-places on the coast, 

rt every denizen of our dty must be perfectly familiar 

B the landscape features of the country in this direction. 

n and bend, every house and tree along the channel 

■ old Bcquuntance, whose aspect is quite os well known as 

ft of the Laigh Eirk steeple, the statue of King William, 

t Westport well. The beautiful, however, can 

IT become commonplace ; familiarity with nature never 

■ contempt, the Dominie's dictum notwithstanding. 

3 have traversed on foot, or afloat, the seaward 

our native stream, we have still found something 

ur admiration afresh, some hitherto overlooked 

» endear its verdant banks still more to our affections. 

"ScenM mtiit tm tcaDtlhi] which, SMj TJemd. 

Long knowl'oilKB and Ibe Bcnilfnv of roara,— 
ProSeJnslly duo to those ibu I JoBcribe." 

NngCowptr in laudation of his favourite Ouae, and™, 
I greater truth, may we sing ot ome aliaX.^'j «iA i;.n«i- 
mi Clyde. 

S60 ooTiw, RKNniKw, isn> vxtffsnntAV 

Glasgow may well be proud of her thar, and of the win- 
able improvements which, by the energy and perseremiu 
of heraong, have been effected on it as a commercial clsnnd. 
OrigimkUy obstructed by fords nud shallows, it WM msnffident 
for the trsnaport of the humblest "gabbart." Il l»g»" 
dually becQ cleared ^nd deepened, however, until in oar d^ 
it is freely traversed to and fro by barks of stateliest biild 
and the most gigantic proportions. Not quite a century bu 
elapsed since Mr. Smeaton reported to Ihe aiilhoritiea tlmt 
the depth of the river at Govan Pointhouse was odIjom 
foot three inches at low water ; nay, there are men s^ »&t 
who remember fording it when they were boys, will tieit 
"brceka scarce bnckled aboon the knee;' 
"leviathans afloat" as the "GUisgow" and the "Smli' 
iteam unimpeded down its conrac, when going forth to bwM 
the billows of the stormy ocean. Old M'Ure, the qoiial 
historian of the wty, writing about the beginning ofthelart 
century, complacently sings, — 

" llors part tlinn luatier I> Ihe riinr Gyde, 
WliDK E^uile strEUDS Su bj tli]r burden gllda ; 

To [nfflD lOr tbea lino forelga 1di1iI&" 
Considering the depth of the river at the period, i 
our BDi<picions that the good old man mast have exercised 
the poetic license to its full extent in his enumeration of llM 
shipping, and that hemust have had Dumbarton and GreenoA 
n his eye when ho tallied of "foreign lands." This is 
he more likely, as we And that a few yeara earlier, Palrid 
Bryce, tacksman of the Gorbals conl-heugh, complained tbM 
he could not get his coals loaded at the Broomielaw, ftoi 
the scarcity of water, and that he had to crave license fi 
Sir George MuLnell to have them transported thrau^ 
the lands of PoUok to a place of embarkation near Meikl 
Govan. How the enterprising coalmaster and the sage hi 
L would stare, if they could rise from the land ( 
shadows, and be for a time permitted to gaze on 1 
bastlioff ^:ene which out harbour now picBcnts", k 


could witness the lengthened vista of towering masts which 
is to be seen from the Glasgow Bridge, stretching away into 
the distance, and enlivened by never-ceasing arrivaLi and 
departures ! Clyde floweth not now past the "borders" of 
the town. Far and wide, once the days of M*Ure, has the 
city spread its ever-extending labyrinths, and the stream 
which then was its border has now become as one of its 
central streets. The giant steam, too, has since arisen, 
increasing indefinitely the productive powers of man, and in 
defiance of wind and tide annihilating time and distance by 
its wondrous powers of transit. Marvellous indeed would the 
changes which have occurred appear in the eyes of the old 
historian, and proudly would he acknowledge that his native 
^WD, since he lefl the scene, has amply justified its motto of 
«appy augury, " Let Glasgow flourish I" 

Taking our way down the southern bank of the Clyde 
^ong the crowded quays, and passing spots where, in our 
Own recollection, green fields, hedgerows, and trees once 
Occupied the space where stately vessels are now moored, we 
Soon arrive at the picturesque, and despite its vicinity to the 
city, still rural-looking village of Govan. The walk in this 
direction has long been a favourite one with the denizens of 
Sanct Mungo, who, on Saturday aflernoons, or on Sundays 
after the skailin' of the kirks, love to stroll by the waterside 
to "snuff the caller air," as Kamsay has it, and to gaizo upon 
the landscape, well pleased to see that green is still the 
livery nature loves to wear. The gradual extension of the 
harbour has, however, divested the banks in a great measure 
of their natural charms. Many of our readers, we dare say, 
will remember the bitter lines which the bard of Hope 
penned, when, after an absence of many years, he revisited the 
haunts of his boyhood in the vicinity of Glasgow. On these 
very banks he had wandered many a happy day, and often, 
when far away, we need not doubt, his fancy would bring 
back to his gaze the joys of langsyne and the scenes with 
which 2D bis nmid they were associated. H.^ ^o\x^\k ^^ 

ait tree ludnff N'^tDre's brcMh hqi 

But whilber EocB thu weBlih. and EladdBDiiic nhemt 

See, IeH lint llta eiiongh sad lireilhing toom 

1 ha hoiifiur and the taope nl ^^ to f«K 

Tim pule mec^uilQ bepdlnir o'er hlfl looin. 

And ctalldbnod'i hK u U Iilon'i wheal, 

FnHn piiini (Ul midnight tuked to eim Its little medL 

" Ii tbli fmi^roieiiieHt ? ivliatathe hmninbrud 

^U toll RTOWB ch^apoT thju) tbe trodden weed. 
And mm compstu with nwn like ta» witb hi, 

Ttiit thou DO moru ItiTODdb pustoml ksoh iliiinlilgt glUL 
My Wallace'! own ittcam ddiI once ronisntli: Civile." 

' The Bweet singer of Hope seems to hwe bciin altogethor ix 
B despairing mood wlien hia inuee gave ulWranca to tbi* 
mobC dolDfbl cffiiaioD. Poets, liowever, have seldom 

f remarkable fw deyotioa to the Btudy of political cooooiny' 

,, Tbey are generally conservative of the beautiful, even to th'' 
sacriliee of the useful. Wotdflworth ruised his ' 

' the intrusion of the ml into the green solitudes of Cumber^ 
land, and Campbell could see nothiog to admire in tbe com' 
jmmsa/ elevatioa of tbo Clyde, altbough tUe prosperity 

y tioaatrj iKn; ikf^^hj infinitely anliTOceA. Ihi^ 

AND iscniKSAN. 263 

ooreries of a Watt, or the ingeniouB application of these 
coveriea to tho propulsion of vessela by a Bell, were 
thing in hig eyes to the preservation of a floirery haok. 
e have no sympathy 'tvitb the maudlin sentiment wliich ia 
ST selfiflhly crying, " Woodman, spare that tree," when the 
d tree ia a public inconvenience; or, "Injure not the 
'ely backs of that stream," when the so-called injury 
luld be produclive of benefit to a whole commnnlty. 
ch was not the purpose which pervaded the genius of 
irns. He mourned the impending fate of the " woe modest 
imion-tipped flower," but he turned not the plougiishuro 
ida to spare its bloom. Addreaiing it, he says, — 

IF To ipMo thee nowB ayoni my power. 

I ThoBbonniflgcm.' 

'Hie regretting the deEtmction of the beautiful, he well 
uw ^at the right onward furrow of utility was not to be 
Wnupted by a sickly sentimentality. Wordsworths and 
Ampbells may foolishly protest in measured phrase against 
>e march of improvement, and gild tli^r maunderings with 
■a ricbnesa of ou exuberant fancy, but the ploughshare of 
regress can neither be stayed nor turned aside from its 
'nrae, although here and there a flower may be " crushed 
Enaith the furrow's wuight." 

The village of GKivan, like most other old townships, is a 
og straggling congregation of houses, havbg been pcr- 
'tt«d apparently to " hing as it grew," each individual pro- 
ietor "biggin"' where it best pleased himsulf, and without 
e most distant regard for the opinion or convenience of 
■ neighbour. It is, in fact, the most curious and eccentric 
M townie that we know, and ahraya wears, to our fanc^. 
bd of balf-fou aspect. At two places, the Fointhouse 
niiB Ferry, it comes rambling down towards the river; 
(^ as if startled at its own temerity, it staggers rapidly 
'ay back, zigzagging into noiiilesctipX, \e.Tiea Kni-M-5"iSia,'vSia 
egularhjrofwbiah would break i\ie Wait ^ o».i"i»&n^-o^ 


whose bamp of onJer bod an estraord'tnarj- degree c£ di 
velopment. Il has a predomiaanee of thatched housea, U 
na if in its sturdy mdependencQ it was deteFmined to i 
iu Htraw bontiut in deGnnue of the innovating skte. 
gether Goran has a geouine old world look, which is 
(ectly unii^ue ia these days of improvement and cbunge, u 
irhii:h ftiruia a not unpleasing contrast to the stifl" thou^ 
stately angularity of our own somewhat overgrown town. 

In tlie vicinity of Govan tliere are a couaiderabk numh 
of elcgsnt villas, emboweri^d in eonie garden-plots, se 
amidst hedgerows and trees, and generally occupied b 
well-to-do citizens of the Western Metropolis, who m 
afibrd to combine the pieosureB and proRts of the dtyiil 
the charms of rural retirement. These are in many instiuia 
BO situiLted as to command a view of the river, 
steamers nod sailing vessels ever passing and tepHEsin^ 
their watery nay ; while the country uround, with il 
lianghs, gentle undulations, belts and clumps of trees, i 
chequered with the verdant fences of the thorn, ] 
many a sweet snatch of landscape of the fairest English tjp 
The village itself, as seen from the margin of the Clyde, iri 
Its handsome church tmd elegant spire — t.fac-iim.ik of til 
at Strutford-on-Avon, the birth and burial-place 
great dramatist — has an exceedingly fine effect, and h 
oilea tempted into action the imitative skill of the a: 
The charch is a chaste Gothic structure, and the chonJ 
yard is one of the most beautiful that we know. 
surrounded by a girdle of tall and rugged elms, -which tfan 
their chequered shadows over the green mounds belU 
lending an air of quiet and seclusion to the spot, which hi 
monizes appropriately with those sombre retlectians «U 
the Geld of graves is so well calculated to excite. 
linger for a brief spaiie among the silent mansions o' 
dead, poring over the records of mortality on the toni 
atones ichich are scattered oronnd, but nothing calling I 
'JfeaaJ i-emark rewards oar search. There ia ( 


iBotony in the tales of the auld kirk-yard. They were 
d they died is evur the ead legend— repeated with 
iteration, and to ba repeated till time sball be no 
1 few short yews of difference the only yaristioti. 
> redbreaat peruhed on the roof of the choroh piping the 
{e of the departing year, and the yellow leaves dancing 
ha air to hig melancholy atram, are also hut sad repeti- 
• of sDunda and symbols wbicb season after season have 
in«d the heart of man with the samo unwelcome moral, 

"the end of all these things is death." 
Adjacent to the church of Govan is the manse, a plain 
teomfortable lookiog habitation, surrounded by a garden, 
I Eommanding a fine view of the Clyde where it is joined 
the Kelvin. The predecessor of the present worthy 
unbent, Dr. Leishninn, was the celebrated ^Ir. Thorn, 
HO caustic wit and kwn spirit of sHtire have evor since 
rily fiimished our local Joe Millers with an inexhaustible 
1^ of anecdotal lore. The pungent genius of this pra- 
lently witty minister is also obvious in a collection of 
Umi, tracts, and letters, which was published in Glasgow 
It the commencement of the present century, but which 
w only to be found in the libraries of the curious. We 
sbo mention that an individual who resides in Govan 
BTBS religiously the wig of the reverend wil. 
ha antiquary or the relic-hunter will find but little to 
let )ua attention in Govan. Formerly there was an 
nt green tumulus called "the Doomster's Knowe," near 
■bank, a, short distance east of the ferry; but within the 
t few years, to the chagrin of tho local Oldbucks, this 
memorial of the pre-historic past has been 
d to permit the extension of a neighbouring dyework ! 
■tfunnt gloria mitndi. An individual in the village, who 
nnes the professions of publican and poet, and who has 
ftvedly attained considerable celebrity under his Par- 
uii nem de guerrt of " Buc," baa BOietsi. ^?w{ijas. tS- 
HUmn and sentimental ialQxoat'uI^m¥Osw«»ln^'^^^ 


ni!l repRj the inapection of the curious. Amoog these in 
the chair on which Bums habitually sat by his "ain Etc 
end " at Dumfries, and (incongruous assodation !) the Bibl»' 
of Wisbiirt, the Scottish mrertyr. With regard to tl*. 
genuineness of the chair wc have no doubt, but as to ibt 
authenticity of the legend which '■' Buc " has attached 
antique Bible — and a curious old blackletter copy it i 
Have our own misgivings. Poets 
spoken," are not the moat trustworthy aiithoritiea 
to matters of fact. " Buc" himself, by the by, a thinplW 
does not always happen, is the most interesting pece 
furniture in his own house, as every one must adndt lAj 
has had the pleasure of hearing him recite some <^ u 
beautiful and heart -touching effusiont 

We may mention, before leaving Govan, that besito » 
weaving and a silk-spinning factory, it can boast of 
estensive dyework ; and that firom building-yards erMl 
by the enterprising firms of Tod & M'Gregor on the not 
R. Napier & Sons, J. & G. Thomson, and Smith & fiodjeb 
on the south side of the river, it lias recently produced 
of the most handsome specimens of marine arehitectore dal 
have ever graced the bosom of the ClyJi 

The walk from Govan to Renfrew, a distance of soma lb* 
miles along the margin of the rii 
pleasing, bnt it presents few features calling for partkno' 
remark. On both sides the conntrj is somewhat &t, p*K 
taking, in this respect, as well as in ita general fertlli^, 
of the soilcr character of English landscape than of W 
which ia peculiar to our own mountain land. An abundUW 
of trees and hedgerows still fiirther heightens the iilnwn 
so that, as we pass along, without tasking our imagrnitu^ 
overmuch, we could almost fancy ourselves rambling ihTOiijft 
some genial scene in "merry England," were it not fw "* 
Ivilputrick Hills towering ia the distance, and remiudiuE 


familiar features that we are still located 

ur "auld respected mitlier." Wordsworth 
'Somewhere of a river " wandering at its own aweet 
^d s lovely sight it is to see a streamlet turning and 
kg like a pU^'M child in very Ughtsomeaesa of heart. 
Mil Tigaries, however, are permitted, in tha part of it-a 
(ito the Clyde. It iahere " cabined, cribbed, confined," 
oupelled to own the mastery of man, and like a steed 
carry his burdens, and do his drudgery. Passing 
la the hougei of Broomhill, Fairfield, Linthonse, 
oieldhall, each girt with its own gardens and groups of 
tinged with the variegated hues of autumn, we arrive 
Scotstonn, the fine mansion of Miss Oswald, which 
itifully situated on the right bank of the river. Scota- 
nd Renfield (now Blythswood) have been elevated to 
by the author of "The Clyde," who thus 
ntea their charms in hia fine descriptive p< 


the I 


fow pride, drapondlne^ heaToa the Dnwllllng sigh." 

Ilgue o' both your houses," honest John, soy we, for a 
if " capemoited biggins." The jealousy of the rival 
however, was, after ali, only a fond fancy of thu 
_j onr readers will readily beheve, when we assure 
ifcat the one tenement is situated a good mile farther 
(he river than the other. It ia not often that our 
stretches the professional license so far as in this 
1. Hia deacriptiona are generally correct, and his 
)iw appropriate and judicioua. We have frequently, 
!Ourae of our rambles, had occasion to quote from 
Cijde," — a poem which, we humbly think, is far ft-otn 

welt tnown aa ita merits Aeaer^c. TiT. \k,-^*-'sb. 
terized it as "the first ScoU'isb \o«i-iift*'^?''^'*^^ ''fi'*^ 


of fto; merit," and remarkeii that tie author's "desniptioM 
of rural scenes and occupations are always true to oKm, 
and often diversiGed by Btriking and picturesque touchn" 
The poet traces the Clyde from its ori^ down ita entire 
course, glancing at every scene which is remarknblB fcf 
nuturul beauty or historical assowatiou, until its waten st 
lost in the vide Atlantic To the people of Clydesdale lu 
delineations of scenery should prove especially inteKstisgl 
and we are only surprised that it has never attained i moK 
esteosive popularity. Before Inking leare of Wilsoon't 
may mention that it was while occupied as a teach' 
Rutherglen that "The Clyde" was partially composed s*i 
prepared for the press. He was afterwards invited to beooma 
superintendent of the Grammar- school of Greenock. 'Hui 
situation his necessities oompeiled him to accept, altbon^ 
one of the conditions of his engagement was that he shoul" 
for ever renounce "the profane and unproBtable art d 
poem-making." To this bitter condition he seems ever 
to have rigidly adhered, although, as might have bw 
espected, not without murmuring. Many yeara aflenfard« 
he thus expressed himself in n letter to his son ;— " I 
thought to huve lived by the breath of fame ; but bo* 
miserably have I been disappointed, when, instead of btfuij 
my performances applauded in crowded theatres, and beini 
caressed by the great, — for what will not a poetaster in 
delirium of posBCSKon dream! — I was condemned to bS"' 
my.'elf to hoarseness among wayward brats, to cultivates*™' 
and wash Ethiopians for all the dreary days of an obn 
lite, the contempt of shopkeepers and brutish skippers." 
died at Greenock on the 2d of June, 1789, 

A short distance to the west of Seotstoun, and on '''• 

opposite side of the river is Elderslie House, the aeit " 

Alex. Spiers, Esq., finely embowered in trees, and wHIi * 

tpaeioaa and beautiful park in its front. This hnndsuWB 

^diUce wsB erected m 1777-78 by the grea.l-^BnO&thef t^ 

^» preamt poneaaor, who PMned h aftei fliftXfafti^*'*'* 

t poteeeaoT, t 

it Scottish pucrioti of which he was also proprietor. 
\te boa lioce been extended imd improved, while the 
ju and gracefiil sylvan groups with which the lawn 
'ihe Clj>de is thickly studded, render its appearance 
j^ pleaang and attractive. About thirty years ago, 
^ stone was dug from the foundation of " VVallaoi 
Ift Elderslie, which is still, we understand, carefully' 
Id at this stately residence. 
Ig the spot, and crossing a filthy and stagnanC-luak- 
if!, half canal and half Btreaiu, which here joins the 
jgid which rejoices iu the unmusical but appropriate 
(f "Pudyeoch," we find ourselves in the burgh 
t, Che oapital of the shire, and although far from 
t^ certainly the most ancient of its towns. Benfreir 
tserly designated "Areothrou;" anil, rememberi 
^yme which we learoed in our boyhood- 


Jice ^^J 

re for yua. 

Boe look about for a place where we may have 
if our inner man properly satisfied. The " caller 
I" are not so plenty now-a-daya as they were when 
jBe first saw the light, but the "yill and whisky" 
fe as abundant and good as in days of yore, while 
Wo lack of the more substantial creature comfarts. 
town of Kenfrew proper is sitnated about half-a-mile 
^taarg^D of the Clyde. It is of no great extent, and 

Pincipally of one main street with a number of lunea 
branching off irregularly fi'ora it, ArchitecturaQy 
|, Renfrew has but few claims to attention, the 
E)r the most part being of the humblest and most 
Riding description. Many d'them are old-fusliioned 
i edifices, of a highly venerable and occaaonalljr' J 
tiareaque appearance. The whole town, including a 1 
f of suburban villas and cottiigeB, \iaa mv ivt tS -o&x^<- 
9 qaietude which has an excteef^o^-j -^Xttaaai^ ^ffisss.. 

1 of ^1 

the ^M 



At the croBs there is a townhouse and jiul, atbuied to 
vlucb ia a somenliat diniiniittve spire, iritli a clock. Tie 
dwai^linesB of this spire, or steepSe, is rather a sore mlijeft 
with the inhabitants, and hna buen the oeeasion of aoA 
banter and even bickering betwecD them and their Ftutle; 
neighbonrs. A threat of carrying away the "steeple" "B 
raiite the bile of a Renfrew man at once. Formerly tin 
, mischievous Seeatu' lads were io the habit of coming doni 
and while placing their shoulders to the wall of the etric- 
ture, crying oat, " I say, Jock, gie's a hand with thia Uft, 
to any Fudyeochian who might chance to pass. The remit 
generally was an appeal to fisdcufls, when the jesters hii 
frequently to pay for their joke with a sound drubbing. Of 
course, we pass the "steeple" wtbont a hint » to itt 

The Ulustrioua house of Stuart, fi^jm whJeh ludi • 
lengthened series of our kings and queens have sprung, bu^ 
at an early puriod their priDcipal residence in the Ticinityof 
Renfrew, No vestige of the edifice now remains, but ils 
whereabout is indicated by certain names which etjll cling to 
the locality. The site where once the proud enibattled keep 
reared its stately towers is culled "CastlehiU" tothisdij'i 
while the " Orchard," the " King's Meadow," and tie 
"Dog-row" are the names of places in the immeditffl 
neighbourhood, and probably derived from tb^r 
with the ancient borne of the Sluurts. " Baron of Eeofteo 
is still one of the numerons titles to which the eldest 
the reigning monarch of our country is by birth en 
and we understand that considerable clisappointmeat o" 
experienoed in the burgb, on the occasion of the QdMDI 
visit to 'the Clyde, that the heir-apparent did not knd,iilie"i 
passing, to inspect his Barony, and the spot where oow 
stood the home of his fathers. 

The educational wants of the juvenile population w 

XesSviF seem to be well supplied. liesvAes Bcveral ^ovitS' 

p^oaia, there ia » large 


if the town, designated the *' Bljtbswood Testimonial/' It 
8 of elegant architectural proportions, and was erected by 
Ribficription in 1842, in honour of the late Archibald 
[)ampbell, Esq., of Blythswood. This institution, which is 
\a^y ornamental to the locality, has been endowed by the 
Town Council, and is conducted, we understand, in an 
effident and superior manner. It were well that more of 
our testimonial builders imitated this excellent example, and 
nnited the useful with the ornamental in their monumental 
stmctures. The memory of Mr. Campbell will be none the 
legs effectually perpetuated that it has been associated with 
an edifice in which utility and beauty are combined. 

Leaving Renfrew we now take our way to Inchinnan, 
'Which lies about a mile to the westward. About midway 
'We pass the spot where the unfortunate Earl of Argyle was 
Wounded and taken prisoner, after the failure of his impru- 
dent expedition in the year 1685. After the dispersion of 
lus troops in Dumbartonshire the Earl crossed the Clyde, 
and, disguised as a countryman, was endeavouring to make 
liis escape towards Renfrew. He had just forded the Cart, 
which is in the immediate vicinity, when he was recognized 
and attacked by two militiamen. These he managed to keep 
at bay with the aid of his pistols, but, assistance coming up, 
be was ultimately wounded and disarmed. We are shown 
a large stone on which tradition asserts the ill-fated noble- 
man leaned himself after his capture, and which is said to 
bave been stained by the blood which flowed from his 
nrounds. This interesting relic is within the policies of 
Blythswood, and is situated a few yards off the road. It is 
I large sandstone, about two tons in weight, and had 
)robably at a still earlier period formed the pedestal of a 
crucifix, or monumental piUar, as it is hewn into a form 
i^hich would adapt it for such a purpose. It is elevated 
X)nsiderably, however, at one end, and is now thickly crusted 
Dver with mosses and lichens. There are certain veins of a 
•uddj^ nature in the stone, which, in wet. "W^aJOaiec^ ^n^ 


a tioge of red to portions of its surface. These roddy spoil 
are, or we should rather gay were, supposed by the aaper- 
ititious to be the effect of the aaaguinarj at 
h&d rH^eived od the oceasiou alluded to. Arubibald, Enl 
of Argyle. as the readers of Scottish history are awan) 
was beheaded, by tlie " Alaideu," at Edinburgli, od iI 
30th of June, IGSo, rather less thau a fortnight aSla U 

A few minutes' farther walk bringe us to Tnchinuan Bridge 
which is silLiated immediately above the junction of ih 
Gryffe and the While CaH, over both of which il " 
The prospect from f his poiut ia very beaulifiii, includinj; "til 
meeting of the vraters," which, after a brief u 
sorbed in the bosom of the Clyde at the "Water-neb," «l>od 
half-a-mile to llie south. For several hundred yards bafW 
the Cart and Gryfie iDtermingle, they are only eepantfl 
ftota each other by a narrow stripe of land, thickly cor 
with willows, which, at the period of our visit, are tui 
up in the breeze the silver lining of their leaves with • 
delidouj effect. The fine plantations of Blythswocd »ll* 
lend an air of sylvan grandeur to the spot, and maiaial^ 
heighten the loveliness of the picture. Old Pennant, "ri* 
had a keen eye for the picturesque, said in reference to tH, 
scenery in this vidnity, that it was "the most elegant tsa 
softest of any in North Britab." 

About two hundred yards from the bridge, on the inar^ 
of the Grylfe, is the churoh of Incbinnsn, a small edifice il 
the Gothic style, with a massive square tower and supporUJ 
laterally by buttresses. This structure was en 
on the sit« of on old building which had previously been ^ 
moved. It is surrounded by a ohurch-yard of I 
dimensions, but which is ^rded with trees and shrut 
which forma altogether one of the most quiet and » 
resting-places of the dead that con be well imagined. Gl4S 
would bavB been deli^'hted with it. A little vestry at I 
ea/f of tbe church is quite embedded ia ivy of die na 


and glossy green, "whkk is also beginning to straggle up one 
of the side walls : — 

** Creeping where no Ufe is seen, 
A rare old plant is the ivy green. 

Ahorse chestnut tree, as we linger, is showering down its 
hroad yellow leaves with a low rustling whisper of dreariest 
import; while a gloomy yew — ^nature's perennial mourner 
"-stands unmoved and solemnly by, garnished with its deep 
i^ berries, like drops of blood intermingled with its funereal 


** Cheerless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell 
Ifidst scuils and coffins, epitaphs and worms ; 
Where light-heeled ghosts and visionary shades, 
Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports), 
Embodied, thick, perform their mystic rounds : 
No other merriment, doll tree, is mine." 

In a long- vanished age the church of Inchinnan, with all 
its revenues, belonged to the Knights Templars. On the 
suppression of the order, in 1312, their property was con- 
ferred on the Knights of St. John, who held it until their 
dispersion at the Reformation. Strange to say, a number of 
the Templars^ tombstones are still to be seen in the church- 
yard. Centuries have passed away — the houses in which 
they dwelt have " left not even a rack behind " — the place 
^hich knew them once shall know them no more for ever — 
^dyet here still, in despite of time and change, are the 
memorial-stones of the Knights, with the symbols of their 
^mg unefiaced. The swords of the cross are still there, 
out the names of the bearers have utterly perished. There 
•*6 four narrow-ridged stones, each having the form of a 
Warrior's brand in relief sculptured upon one side of it. 
■Hiere ar^ also a number of flat stones somewhat in size and 
H)rm Hke a coffin, each with a cross upon it, but varying in 
^e style of execution. The majority of these interesting 
fragments of the past are still in a tolerable state of preser- 
vation. They are lying exposed in the church-yard, however, 
*^d coBBequeniljr are liable to be trampVa^ oii «xA\si^ax5i.^, 
^e/are surely entitled to a little moxft c»i^% 


The manse, a plain but neat baH^n^ is sitiiated in the 
immediate yicinity of the church. The Bey. Lanrenee 
Lockhart, minister of the parish, is a native of our own dtj; 
his father, Dr. Lockhart, having been minister of the College 
Church for many years. His brother, Mr. J. G. Lockhart, 
editor of the Quarterly Review, and author of a variety of 
miscellaneous productions, both in prose and verse, has 
attained a highly respectable name in the literature of his 

Before we leave Inchinnan the shades of evening hM 
begun to lower, and 

" The gloomy night is gathering Cut" 

We therefore hasten back to Renfrew, taking the route down 
the margin of Cart to the Clyde, and from thence across the 
fine lawn of Blythswood. On arriving at Renfrew we find a 
steamer roaring at the wharf, and proceeding on board, are 
speedily wafted to the Broomielaw. 

* J. G. Lockhart is now among the men that were. He was horn in 1<9^ 
and died in 1854. A monument either has been, or is about to be raised at 
Dryburgh Abbey to his memory, by a party of surviving friends, among wiMW 
ure some of the most eminent living names in the literature of Englaad. 



The finely wooded vale of the Kelvin, next to that of our 
own river, has long formed one of the most favourite haunts 
conveniently accessible to our citizens, many of whom, both 
old and young, we have no doubt, must iBnd its name a talis- 
man capable of exciting their sweetest langsyne memories. 
Our purpose on the present occasion is to notice, in our 
ttsual cursory manner, a few of the more remarkable objects 
<uid scenes which meet our gaze during a walk of a few miles, 
principally in the track of the Kelvin, immediately above its 
^houchure into the Clyde. Taking our start from the 
Pomthouse, on a fine day of October, we proceed leisurely 
towards Partick, which lies about half a-mile to the north- 
ward. The wr is as mild and genial as the vaunted Indian 
summer of the far west. Bright snowy masses float in the 
^66p blue sky, and the sunlight has a rich golden tinge, that 
'ends additional lustre to the many-tinted trees which, even 
^ the absence of the slightest breath of wind, are dropping 
l^eir seared and leafless foliage ; while the long rank grasses 
that fringe the margin of the water are fast assuming that 
*^y skeleton aspect which, despite the spring-like tempera- 
^ of the season, imerringly indicates that " the summer 
^ past, the harvest is ended, ^' and that the time of storms is 
^t hand. 

In the immediate vicinity of Partick, on the western bank 
^tbe Kelvin, until within the past few years, there stood a 
*^ons edifice of no great extent, which was supposed to 
^^e been erected as a country Tesidencj^^ ^\. «Ck. ^"s:^ ^a^i^^ 
Toaeoftbe bishops of the opulent Se^oi ^\«»%<:y«* fc^xss^^ 

the spot a, number of fine old trees were sottttered, and the 
scene altogetber was just such a one a^ a dreiun}*paet< 
paiuter would have loved to linger by, peopling tbe deaertri 
walls witli the forms of other days. The appearance of tte 
venerable atrurture has been preserved by a lovmgpenill 
and a goodly number of years ago a poem, of oonsidenble 
meiit was addressed to it by some nameless bard in 
the local periodicals. The following vecse of the producuon 
is all that we have been able lo recover from the t»tr 
memory of a friend vrho committed it to " heart' 
boyhood, and who thinks that it was in a number of tin 
Bee or the Glaigow Magazine that he must have 
originally : — 

" Ld, Firtlrk Cutlc. Aremr ud lone. 
SlandA UJto H iU?n[ lookBr-on. 
Wtaers Clyde nod Eelrln inMt; 

Ko wunil Li hurd within Us halls. 
Save nolH of d\iUni nteitillii, 
Where children hne UiBlrfert." 

The antiquity of this botlding, we may mention, h 
recently denied, on the authority of certain papers prfflorwl 
by a descendant of Mr. George Butcheeon, one of 1 
thers who founded the hospital of that name in the V^\ 
and who, according to these papers, also erected the honw 
in question. One of the documents alluded to is a ounln'' 
witlv William Miller, mason in Kilwinning, for the i 
of the stonework of the aforesaid bouse, wherein thestwi" 
ard of measurement is pawkily stated to be according 
length of " ye said George's ain fute." In carroboriW* 
of this Btatement also we find in Hamilton of Wiihsirt 
description of Lanarkshire a passage to the following ff^' 
—"Above this, where Kelvin falls into Clyde, ia the boa* 
of Pertique, a well-built and convenient house, well plsniw 
with barren timber and large gardens, which are enclose* 
trjth Btoae wnlls, and which formerly belonged to Gwrge 
■ifaCcbesoD in Glasgow, bat now to JoWCrawtOTiofMs' 
■&>ua. " Jt would iLerefore Buum llial " the CuBik" 



u generally called, was not in reality of so ancient b date 
B! was traditionally supposed. It is certain, however, that 
tie proud prelates of Glasgow had for maoy years a favourite 
rural residence in the ricinity of Particle; and nothing ia 
note prohable than that it was ^(.uated at this spot, which 
in those days must have been invested with a lundacape 
heanty of no ordinary kind. The locality is now occupied 
iiy a dyework, while lengthened lines of street are shooting 
in rapidly in the vicinity, and will soon entirely cover the 
spot where once flourished the spaMoua gardens of Perli([ue. 

ltd village of Partick is romantically sitnated on the 
wb of the Kelvin, which at this place rushes dinsomely 
orw a rocky bottom, and is in several places dammed up 
ul artificia! barriers for the service of the extensive Corpo- 
ntan Mills. The channel also is here spanned by a time- 
bonoured bridge, which commands a picturesque prospect of 
tile old-Bishioned tittle town, many of the houses of which 
■feeiidwitly of no recent date. It possesses, however, but 
fc» architectural features of a remarkable description. Par- 
'''^li altogether has a pleasant half-rural aspect, while the 
f^puted salubrity of its air and its vicinity to the oity has 
■^eted it a favourite place of resort on holidays, and on 
l« long summer evenings, with certain classes of our dtizens. 
"Doierous handsome villas and cottages also have recently 
"Sen erected in its environs, principally by thriving business 
"leu from Glasgow, which lend it a peculiar ^ of prosperity 
^d cheerfulneas, while the inhabitants generally have an 
'PIKsranco of robust health, which contrasts favourably with 
*«t of our urban population. 

Ihe Mills of Partick, as is generally known, have for many 
*»M belonged to the Incorporation of Bakers in our city, 
^ whom they were granted by the Regent Muri'ay, after ihe 
'dory of Langside. It is said the Glasgow " baiters" of 
'at day, besides supplying bis army with bread while it con- 
»wd ia the neigh bonrhood, aclualVy aenV aa anws& 4k^- 

I of their unmber to assist the BepeivV vcv >na eaKEWsA*^^ I 

, — i 

ST8 pABTKnt Afd retvui anovB. 

with the Queen's forcea. This party, it seems, did pai 
service on tUe oceasian, and matenuU; aided in tbe tn 
tlirow of the unfortunate Queen's adherents. Oo his ret 
to the city after this deciiiive Bkirmish, Murra}' pab1icl}> t>- 
prcsse'l his gratitude to the hakera for the important lerniM 
which they had rendered, nhen Mathew Fnwside, the DeUoa, 
who seems to have estimeted properly the valne of mat 
word gratitude, humbly suggested that a p.& of the Cian 
mills at " Pertique," by way of actoowledgment, would In 
highly acceptable to the Incorporation. The Regent, wbn 
was naturally in high spirits at the Umc, acceded U 
opportuue request, and granted the mills to the sturdy enfis- 
men, in whose hands aud those of their successors thej hi 
ever ance remained. The establishments, however, Ian 
gone on gradually exleudiug their productive powers, ai 
wants of the community have incrcnsed, until, in ouc 
day, they have become of the moat stately dimensions, wbik 
the Incorporation to whom they belong is one of the laort 
wealthy in the city. 

Leaving Partick by what is called the Byres Road, wt 
now proceed, in a northerly direction, for a distuiH of 
about a mile, during which nothing calling for ipecid 
remark comes within our observation, until we arrive il 
the Great Western Road, immediately in front of At 
entrance to the Botanic Gardens. We know of no plitf 
iu the neighbourhood of Glasgow where the lover of nstan 
can more profitably linger for a few hours than in tht 
flowery retessBS of this excellent establishment. "JVob 
the cedar which groweth on Lebanon to the hyssop on tba 
wall," oU kinds of plants are to be found congregated ben- 
The student will Gnd in its spacious grounds, or on tbs 
shelves of its tastefully arranged conservatories, innumerable 
spedmens of the infinitely various vegetable families of Urn 
earth. At all times and seasons the attentive observer may 
find some " thing of beauty " here exhibiting its charms to 


lis ffltaation of these gardens is exceedingly well adapted 
for horticultural purposes, and embraces a yariely of fertile 
Jopea, with a, fine soutbern exposure, tastefully arranged 
wio green lawns, Trhicli ara elegantly intersected by numer- 
mi! p&rterres and llower-bordered walks. The grmmds are 
Bweeiied on all sides by stripes of planting, compoaed of the 
principal trees and shrubs of our country, indigenous and 
ewtic At tfae base of the hill or brae over which the 
glrdens are spread, is a large pond for the cultivation of 
si|U8tic plants, and a rockery, in the crevices of which many 
tpMiinenB of our rarest wild flowers are appropriately 
Wted, During the season, these spacioas and well-eon- 
ducied gardens are generally largely attended by the rank 
Mil fiishion of our city. Nor, thanks to the princely gen- 
fifoaily of our townsman, William Campbell, Esq., of Til- 
lichenan, are the humbler clasBes altogether excluded &om 
a participation in their beauties. By a muniScent donation, 
'iiiB gentleman has secured the right of entree to the Botanic 
wardens for five days of the Fair week to the working people 
"i Glasgow. On these occasions the grounds present a 
"glily nnimated and cheeriiil appearance. Many thousands 
"f respectably attired individuals have each year availed 
ftfiDiBelves of the privilege thus considerately accorded to 
'wDi ; and it must be highly gratifying to Mr. Campbell, 
'"d the friends of the operative population generally, to 
^'n, from the exemplary conduct of these promiscuous 
'^wds, that his munificence has been appreciated in a far 
''ghcr degree by its reuipients than could almost have been 

At the western extremity of the Botanic Gardens a 
*iTow passage, in popular parlance called the " Kyber 
W" leads over a green knoU to tW -vaAfc"} o^ *«. ^A-i\a 
■ta&ai(fU9 "Pear-tree Well." Eiom v\>a wHiwii-o. rii. <>«» 


tieiaht an exlcnsive prospect is obtained of the numimdii^; 
cdimtry, which Is of a gently undulating character. Among 
the mure remarkablu objects in the hmdscape, Thicb u 
bounded hj the Cmnpsie and Kilpatrick Hills are the Obw 
vatory, where oar learned townanum, Professor Niciiili 
pursues liis nocturnal study of the atarry heavens; ud 
the Lunatic Asylum at Gartnavel, whiuh stands « d 
c'boly thing, apart from the noise and bustle of the ndgl^ 
bouring dty. This benevoleDt tstablishmeat is indeed DKHt 
appropriately utuatud here, in a quiet and secluded pliOi 
where ministradon to the "mind diseased" is com] 
undisturbed, aa in an urban locality it would neceattuil; 
to some extent be by the distractions of diucordant ex 
influences. The descent to the river on tlie northern aia c( 
ibis height pasies through a shallow ravine, where ma 
jears ago a horrid murder was perpetrated ; the very ap 
although the scene has undergone considerable altentioDi 
being still remembered and pointed out. It is about ni" 
way down the declivity, and was long marked by au imiaei 
tree, every vestige of which has now been removed. Th* 
victJm was a young and beautiful woman, who, &om the Uet 
that she had evidently " loved not wisely but too well," "•• 
supposed to have been put to death by her guilty pamnouri 
The body was found shockingly mangled one quiet si 
morning lying among the dewy gross and trampled £oweni 
which in suverat places were stained with her blood, Gred 
exdtement was naturally Idndled in the pubUc mind at th) 
time by this atrodous occurrence, but strange to aay, 'Ok 
spite of the most vigilant search, no trace of the murders 
has ever been discovered; the popolar maxim that mur^ 
will not hide having been, in this instance, as well as, 
sorry to aay, in many others, completely falsified. A 
of considerable merit on this tragical event appeared in ■ 
small volume which was published a few years ago b^ 
toimsinao Mr. James Lemon. At the period of our ndt 
Me rery spirit of peace seems brooding ovei t\ia sprt, «Bi'( 



rtfitb difficulty tbat we can associate, even in fancy. Bitch 
avdiness and quietude with a tale of blood. 

The scenery of the Kelvin in the vicinity of the Pear-tree 
ffdJ is of the most romantic and beautiful deaoription. The 
uikg are bold, and in many places Ringed nttb massea of 
ohsge to the water-lip; while the rustic bridge, the lonely 
attage, and the picturesque milt, seem planted by the very 
""d of taate, along the meanderings of the rippled and 
niirciuring stream, wheri'ver they are likely to produce a, 
filing effect. A flock of duckn are floating like specfca of 
wm on the browu breast of Kelrin; as we linger on its 
au^io, a loving pair are leaning on the parapet of the 
WdgB, watching the falling leaves, and doubtlcsa whiapcring 
ifiOK honeyed nothings which only the initiated can appre- 
^; while a fair-haired boy is launching a mimic bark, to 
^ bnge admiration of his little sister, who claps her hands 
"Hi shoats in the exuberant UghtBomeneas of her heart, to 
•Ba It Ixjme rapidly away by the current. Altogether the 
wka and its accessories present the very choicest of tboso 
^■onious cotnbinationB of colour and form wliich the 
Bkape UmncT loves to gate upon, and fondly cndeavoiu^, 
~Hie pride of his skill, to transfer to the living canvas. 
^0 Bonder it is that Kelvin Grove has long been the 
"TOurite haunt of our city lovers, and the favourit* theme 
•f ODr local poets; for nature has indeed atrewn its recesses 
nth diAma as fresh and beautiful as tbongb it were situated 
*f from the dwellings of men, instead of almost under the 
*iilKtif onr most dinaome and dusky of towns. 

The Pear-tree Well issues from the bottom of a steep and 
''ioUy wooded bant, which, at thia point, rises gracefully 
™ni the rocky bed of the streamlet. The crystalline and 
Wicioualy cool water is collected into a coaeiderablij cavity 
" 'he earth; immediately over which three large trees, a 
''toe and two handsome ashes, raise on high their umbrageous 
••da, while their sturdy roots, in BW^ecJ.'i'Jie iwjiiNii.viu.'OTa., 
^ aroond the watery toWow \it\ie,ia\i, csiS Vi daWi^i -J- 

982 FAKTiCK a?:d kelvkt 

Ceora Lbc intrusion of tbe peDetradng noonday Ban. 
BDppose that it is from thie trio of sylvan guardians tbil llu: 
fountain haa received its name — and that the " Tlirce-t? 
and not the "Pear-tree," Well is ita proper denomioa^ 
Tbe advocates of the latter theory further remark, that tbew 

no pear-tree in the vicinity, and that conBcquently tin 
popular name is probably but a corruption of " Three-tt 
There is high authority for saying that names aA tlinp 
of slight consequence; but however that may be, v 
inclined, in the present instance, to be conservative of the 
old name for this favourite well, and to reta,ia it b spibi •^ 
all attempts at innovation. Whether from langayne associi 
tiona or not, we shall not attempt to discover, bat Fear-tK 
We!! sounds most musically on our ear — and we shoaU 1» 
loath to have it suppressed by the word-coinage of uj' 
crotchety theorist ; and besides, who can tell what kind (if 
trees may have formerly graced the locality? A peifecl 
orchard of the pear tribe may, at some past period, h 
ulothed the boului of Kelvin, for anytbiu;!; that these TtolKto" 
of a time-honoured name — "these men who are givel W 
change " — know to the contrary. No, no 1 Pear-tree Well 
it has been, and Fear-tree Well to us, at least, i 
remain. We bad as lief meet an old friend with a new ton 
as an old haunt with a new name. 

Ilaving done our devoirs to thu spirit of the fountain, bj 
draining a bicker of the translucent water, which, by ^ 
way, is slightly impregnated with iron, we ait ourselvM 
down on the bank above, under the ashen tree, when one of 
two friends with whose company we have been honoursd 
inspired by the half-gelid beverage, bursts suddenly a 

"Let Di hute to Kolrtii Grorc, bnnoie Imtic, a' 
We of course join heartily in the measure, which has Sit 
many years been highly popular in the west of Scotland 
and which we naturally enjoy with double zest oj 
semierj- to wrbi^ it refers. A musical connoiseeur, itQM 1i 


t, might grumble a little at our unakilfiil execDtion of the 
■hich beaTB the stamp of K. A. Smith's fine genitia. 
k, nevertheless, entirelr to our own estisfaction ; and old 
a to murmur more CDUplacently as his own song 
! down tbo vale. It is well known that this 
Wtifiil lyric was composed hy Mr. lliomas Lyle, formerlj 
Urgeon in Glasgow, and wbo is now, in a green old age, 
' pursuing his vocation in the village of Airth, in 
liUngebire, for many years, once agaiu resident amongst 
• The song was originally published in 1830, in the 
Ji of Ren/rexnshire, a collection of poetical pieces, to 
4 an introductory essay on the poets of tbe district was 
ributed by William MotherwtU. In tbe index to that 
k the name of John Sim is given as that of the author 
"Eelrin Grove." Mr. Sim, who bad contributed largely 
IB work, and for a time had even acted as its editor, left 
••lay before its completion, for the West Indies, where he 
'rtljr afterwards died. In the roeantime the song became 
] ravourit«, when Mr. Lyle laid claim to it as his 
^ production, and brought forward evidence of tbe most 
iviadng nature to that effect. So clearly, indeed, did he 
■ulish the fact of his authorship, that a musicseller in 
Bnburgb, who had previously purchased the song from 
lieculors of iSIr. Sim, aC once entered into a new 
gement with him for the copyright. Mr. Lyle, it 
■ns, was in the habit of corresponding with Mr. Sim on 
ry matters, and on one occasion sent bim "Kelvin 
e," with another eong, to be published anonymously 
a Harp of RenJi-ewAire. In the meantime Mr. Sim, 
ft had transcribed both the pieces, was called abroad; 
L iftdr bis death, his executors finding the two songs 
i papers, and in his handwriting, naturally con- 
fed that they were productions of his own genius, and 
'ished them accordingly. In 1837 Mr. Lyle published 
r. LtIb Ji main tlBMI rmnal-ng lili vocallon in ttao Hlgli Street of 
nr, ■ llttiB lielon Die Bell «■ the bits, ht bohlB Ua office of DMrlct 
M Is ibe BiTOD]' Piroclilal Bostd. 


B small collection of his poetical eSiiaions, and vc lenrn 
even in hia old age the muse has not entirely deserted 
Let us hope that tbe ^od old bard may also find tba ' 
green verdure of love and sweet content brigfateiung 
wintry portion of the path of life towards which bu stvpt 
moat now be tending. 

We now proceed ap tbe Kelvin by a somevhat Jenoui 
path, for the purpose of visiting tbe aqueduct bridge in tlie 
vicinity of Marybill. The distance between llie two plBi:«li 
according to our computation, may be somewhere nboul ■ 
mile. On the way we pass several mills or bleachworbi 
«itiiated at intervals along the marpn of the river, aodirbiclii 
however useful they may be, and fhr be it from as to W 
their utility into question, certainly detract con«der^l; 
from the piuturesque beanty of the scenery, Mr. Ljle, in 
one of his verses, mentionj, among the charms of "Ki^nx 

Ptlritu ib8 bDltaw dlnBle Me. 

Whore On sildiilglic bM« tUie," so. 

We are afraid, however, that the green-coated gentfj, "'"' 
are said to bo rather finical m their tastes, muut long tpi 
have taken tbeir departure fi-om tbe locality. PraicAOi 
Aytoun hiinaell' has not a greater horror of everything in tlw 
shape of cahco than (according to those who are skilloi ^ 
I'uiry lore) the leaf-clad subjects of Oberon and Tituiii- 
We may therefore reasonably enough conclude that, whss 
printworks, bleacbfields, and papermillB, not to mention nnS 
mannfiictories, Bic, continue so abundant on the Kelvin, llif 
"men of peace" must to a man have ere this indigna'i''.^ 
emigrated to a more congenial province. Be that as it id*7i 
however, there are still many delightful nooks among <^ 
banks and braes, through which, as rapidly as it is perniitW'' 
by dams and other artificial barriers, the streamlet wJ!" '" 
seaward course. Not the least attractive of these is in ' 
vianity of Gairbrmd House. This tundsome edifiw 
foluated on an elevated position on the north bank of ^j 



Kelvli), Emd comntaDds an extend ve prospect of the surround- 
ing country. A. fine lawn slopes smoathl^ down in front to 
the water-edge, which b shaded by a. bolt of plantiug; while 
a shallow glea or dell, in i(^ immediate neighbourhood, has 
won our especial esteem as the habitat where the snowdrop 
(_golajtChuii niralisy miikes Its lirst appearance near Glaagow- 
in the early spring months. Our favourite locality, however, 
for this delicate looking hut really hardy Httle Honer, is 
Castlemilk Glen ; there they are to be seen iu greater 
luxuriance and beauty than we have ever observed them 

The nquednct bridge which conveys the Forth and Clyde 
Canal over the valley of the Kelvin, at this place about 80 
feet in depth, is a superb producdon of architectural skill. 
The structure is 350 feet in length, 57 feet broad, and 51 
from the parapet to the surface of the water. It consists 
of four arches, each 50 feet wide, by 37 high, and has alto- 
gether a most imposing appearance. Mr. Whitwortb was 
the deafrner of this beautiful edifice, and it was executed 
under the superintendence of Mr. Gibb, between June, 
1787, and June, 1790, at a cost of £8,509. The view of the 
Kelvin from the lummit of the bridge is of the most lovely 
description, the banks on each side being thickly covered 
with stately trees, which, bending over the water, here 
smooth and unruffled, are reflected as in a mirror. The 
canal in the vicinity of the bridge passes over a consider- 
able incline, and at the period of our visit, a number of 
VBisels are progressing slowly up the watery stM'case, 
moving from lock to lock as gently and securuly as on the 
UQat placid lake. 

The village of Moryhill is in the immediate vit-inity oi' 
Ibe bridge, from which it is seen in its most favourable 
aspect. Being nearly, if not altogether, of modem erection, 
llie village has a clean and tidy appearance, and is arranged 
vith considerable regularity. There is a number of public 
B, such as printfields and establishments for bleaching. 

Mo, SI 


in its vicinity, in whii:!) the population (a lar^ proportion 
of whom are of Iiiah origin) are prindpall^ emplo^ 
Tho village itself preaenta few attractions to the romblEr, 
but the countr)' in its neighbourhood, esp^ally along tlie 
valley of the Kelvin, is characterized by a more 
nary degree of beauty. 

Lea,Y'mg Maryhill and turning eoatward, we now procnJ 
by Wyndford along the highway towards Glasgow for at 
balf-a-mile. At this point we turn to the right b; tlu 
Gairoch Road, which, after a brief waUc, brings us onae 
mare to the Kelvin apposite the BotaoiD Gardens. Faimig 
the Gairouh Mill, which is finely situated on the margio dF 
the water, we next direct our devious steps along the N 
Woodside Road, with the intention of returning honjaward 
by that favourite route. As most of our readers are doubt* 
less aware, the scenery on this portion of the Kelvin ii 
possessed of many and various charms, — wood, 
architectural grace being most eflectively and pleesmg^ 
intermingled. Wherever the eye is turned it rr 
picture. It is aeldoDi, however, that we have n 
nnder more favourable auspices than on the present oco-, 
raon, when the seai'ing influences of brown October hi 
tinged the masses of foliage on either hand with a brilli 
of colour unknown at other seasons. The very depth t 
beauty, however, which the landscape now wears, is itij 
gestive of serious reflection. 'Tis the loveliness of consiim] 
tion — the herald blush that indicates the silent approae 
of death, and forcibly reminds us of our own leaf-bl 

It is now more years than we care to number since, by tb 
winttr evening hearth, we read the narrative of 
George Spearing, who accidentally fell into an old coal-pj 
at Woodside, in the year 1TG9, where he remained a 
covered for seven days and seven nights, when he wi^ 
happily rescued. The drcumstances of the case took a 
hold on OUT jnuthM imagine.t\on, biiA it \a -vtVLV wnocUiini 


like a feefing of awe that we> proceed to yisit the spot where 
the easaalty occurred The pit, after the lapse of so many 
yean, is still open. It is situated within the extensive and 
lomantic grounds of Matthew Montgomerie, Esq. of Eelvin- 
>de, about sixty yards or so to the north of what is called 
Ilint-mill. We may mention, however, that there is 
danger of a similar accident occurring now-a-days, as 
^ place is not only secured from intrusion by a high stone 
^ but the mouth of the pit is forther fenced round with a 
Svdle of stout stabs.* The narrative of Lieutenant Spearing 
^ originally published in the Gentleman's Magazine, We 
extract the principal features of it, as by this time it must be 
^liDost as good as manuscript to the majority of readers : — 

"On Wednesday, September 13, 1769," says the narra- 
^, who speaks in the first person, '* between three and four 
o^dock, I went into a little wood called North Woodside 
(^tuated between two and three miles N.W. of Glasgow), 
"^ith a design to gather a few hazel nuts. 

'* I think I could not have been in the wood more than a 
(Quarter of an hour, nor have gathered more than ten nuts, 
before I unfortunately fell into an old coal-pit, exactly 
Seventeen yards deep, which had been made through a solid 
rock. I was some little time insensible. Upon recovering 
my recollection, I found myself sitting (nearly as a tailor 
does at his work), the blood flowing pretty freely from my 
mouth; and I thought that I had broken a blood-vessel, 
and consequently had not long to live; but to my great 
comfort, I soon discovered that the blood proceeded from a 
wound in my tongue, which I suppose I had bitten in my 
fall. Looking at my watch, it was ten minutes past four ; 
and getting up I surveyed my limbs, and, to my inexpressible 
joy, found that not one was broken. 

* Since this was written the Woodside pit was reopened bnt at the present 
time, as we understand, the workings have heen again deserted, and the 
dreary prison of the poor lieutenant once more consigned to silence and soli- 
tnde. Let ns hope that the proprietors will not penult Vt A&forvascl^ tA \.«c&skS^ 
AD onifeoced trap. 

Ihied with ver^ smatl intemuBtuon, till the da 
md, inJeed, in a retj sbort time, 1 was ci 
wet through. In this comfortluBa condiiion I en:: 
to taku eorae repose. A forked stick that 1 found i 
and which I placed diagonalty to the sida of it, ssr 
natelj to support my head as a pillow, or mj b 
gionoUy, which waa much bruised ; but ia the who 
remained here I do not think that I ever slept 
Having pas.'icd a disagreeable and teili( 
I was Bomewbat cheered with the appearance of 
and the melody of a robin redbreast that had 
directly over tbe moulh of the pit ; and this pr 
■warbler continued to visit my quarters evety raomi; 
my conGnement, which I construed into a happy omei 
deliverance ; and I sincerely bebeve tbe trust I had 
dence, and tbe company of this little bird, contribn 
to that serenity of mind I constantly enjoyed to 
At the distance of about 100 yards, in a direct line 
pit, there was a water-mill. The flint-miU was sti 
1 could frequently hear the horaes ^ing this to: 
from the mill ; frequently I heard human voice 
couid distinctly hear the ducka and hens about thi 
made the best use of my voice on every occaraon ; 


a drop of it, ne tlie eartb at the bottom of the pit 
wifd it up as fast as it ran down. In this distress I sucked 
m; clotLes ; but Irom them I could extract but little mois- 
lore. The eliock I received in the fall, together nith the 
Wking of my ribs, kept me, I imo^e, in a continunl 
ferct; I cannot otherwise account for inj- suffi-ring so much 
mote from thiret than I did from hunger. At last I dis- 
Mvered the tbigh-bone of a bull (which, I afterwards heard, 
lud lellen into the pit about eighteen years before me) almost 
covered with the earth. I dng it up, and the large end of it 
left a cavity that, I auppoae, might contwn a quart. This 
tile Rater gradually drained into, but so very slowly, that it 
'"u a considerable time before I could dip a nutshell full at 
^ Dme, which I emptied into the palm of my hand, and so 
ilrank it. The water now began to increoao pretty Ihst, ao 
wt I was glad to enlarge my reservoir, insomuch that, on 
the fourth or fifth day I had a sufEcJent supply ; and this 
"Wer was certainly the preservation of my life. 

" At the bottom of the pit there were great quantities of 
''Epliles, such na frogs, toads, large black snails or slugs, &C. 
IiiesB noxious creatures would frequently crawl about me, 
Wd often got into my reservoir ; nevertheless, I thought it 
the sweetest water I had evor tasted ; and at this distanue of 
time the remembrance of it is so sweet, that were it now 
poauble to obtain any of it, 1 am perfectly satisfied I could 
"Wallow it with avidity. I have frequently taken both 
frogs and loads out of my neck, where I suppose they 
'ook ahellpr while I slept. The toads 1 always destroyed, 
but the frops I carefully preservtd, as I did not know 
I'l't 1 might be tmder the necessity of eating them, which 
1 tliDuld not have scrupled to have done^bad I been very 

■^Saturday the 16th there fell hut little rain, and I had 
^natisfoction to hear the voices of some boys in the wood. 
Hiediately I called out with all my might, but it was in 
^K though I aiterwards learned that tbcy actually heard 



me ; bat b^ng prepossessed witli sji idle ator; of 
nutn being in the wood, they ran away oflHghted. 

" At length Che momiDg, September :20th. Uie 
momiDg for m; deliverance, csme; a day that, while 
memorj' lasts, I will slwayg celebrate with gratouda 
Heaven. Through the brambles and bushes tbat c 
the mouth of the pit 1 could diicover the sun shimiig 
and mj pretty warbler was chanting his melodioiu i 
when tny aCteoldoD was roused bj a conliised noise of 
voices, which seemed to be approaching last towar 
pit ; immediatelj I called out, and most agrceablj' su 
several of my acquaintance, who were in search of 
Many of them are still living in Glasgow, and 
Kince I had the very great satisfaction of 
them at my apartments. They toid me that they hsd 
the most distant hope of finding me alive, but wished ID 
me a decent buiial, should they be so fortunate as to 
me. As soon as they heard my voice, they all ran toi 
the pit, and I could distinguish a well-known voice ex( 
'Good God I he is still living!' Another of them, tli 
a very honest North Briton, bis surprise ajid 
r^ould not help nskiog me, in the Hibernian style, if I 
still living. I told him I was, 'and hearty, too;' and 
pave them particular directions how to proceed in gB 
ine out. Fortunately, at that juncture a coUler, fn 
working pit b the neighbourhood, was passing along 
rond. and hearing an unusual noise in the wood, his 
prompted him to learn the occasion. By his i 
rope from the mill, I was soon safely landed 
The miller'awifehadverykindly brought some milk warnil 
the cow; but, on my coming into the fresh air, I grew: 
faint and could not taste it. Need I be ashamed to ad 
ludgo that the first dictates of my heart prompted me 
on iny knees, and ejaculate a silent thanksgiving to the 
of my deliverance, since, at this distant time, I never 
(j( it but thu tuur of gratitude sturts jrom my eye?" 

I svLyiN oaovK. 891 

Tbe poor LJenMnsnt afterwsj^ suffered severely, honecer, 
Q ailments contracted during bia lengthened exposure. 
9 limbs having been benumbed by cold and nant of 
Tciae, injudiiuoiu meana vere taken to restore the cirpu- 
■Mion, which caused infhunmation and ultimately toortiiica- 
Ou the 2d of Maj' following, all remedies 
liaving failed, ho hod to nndergo an ampntatton of his left 
leg, aller which, fortunately, he rapidly reguned his health. 
Lieutenant Spearing concludes his narrative, imlten many 
years after the unfortunate occurrence at Woodade, by 
Btating — " To this day 1 bless God 1 do enjoy perfect health, 
and I have since been the happy father of nine children." 

Furautng our course toward the city, and immediately 
before emerging into the Great Western lioad where it 
croMes the Kelvin, we pass Norch Woodside House, which 
U beautiMly situated near a bend of the river, a little to the 
Qorlbward of the bridge. This venerable pile is remarkable 
as having been the residence, b boyhood, of our distinguished 
towaEman, Sir Thomas Munro, who will long be remembered 
for his brilliant and highly useful career in India, during 
which he rose by undoubted merit irom the rank of a simple 
Cadet to ihe Governorship of Madras, Sir Thomas was 
bom ond educated in the city ; but during the summer 
months his parents resided at this place, which then wore a 
more rural and retired aspect than it does now, when the 
extending suburbs are threatening speedily to absorb it. 
The days he spent at Woodside seem to have been in his 
eatimation the happiest in his life; " youth's morning march" 
being ever the most delightful portion of our earthly pilgrim- 
age. His biographer, the Rev. Mr. Gleig, says, "Young 
Monro appeared to enter upon a now state of being as often 
■8 he visited Woodrade. If he read, it was cithtir seated 
npoQ a rustia bench which stood beneath a tall tree in the 
garden, or perched among the highest branches of the tree 
itself If a fit of idleness took him, be indulged it by ramb- 
Unj:, lometiaics from sunrise to n' 


or he would &e\i the Kehia with his brotbert or compsmim 
and when weary of that aottisenirait, would refresh hisM 
by swimming in the dam." In after fears, when ptiniA| 
the "bubble reputation in the cuinoa'a mouth," henu 
frequent allusiona in hie correspondeace to the haunts of^ 
youth. " Were I to go home to-morrow," he says lo 
epistle to hii mother, '■ one of my first e 
to Woodaide, to atcim down Jackson's 
when, in 1808, after an absence of nesrly thirty 7e«n,ti 
who had gone out to the far £aat, an unfHended Ci 
returned laden with honours, wealth, and fame, o: 
liret plates he turned his steps to was the Kelvin, 
beautiful letter to his sister, who had invited him t<: 
Ht Ammondel, the following fioe passage occurs:— 
tary walk is slmost the only thing in which I hats tt 
enjoyment. I have been twice at North Woodsds, i 
though it rained without cesfing on both days, it did M 
prevent me from rambling op and down the river, f 
Clayelap to the aqueduct bridge. I stood above oi 
Jackson's dam, looking at the water rushing over — 
rain and withered leaves were descending thick about ■ 
and whilu I recalled the days that were past, the wind li' 
ling through the trees, and the water tumbling over ■ 
dam, had stiil the same sound as before ; but the darka 
of the day, and the little smart box perched 01 
bank, destroyed much of the illusion, and made me teslli 
former times were gone. I don't know how it 
I look back to early years, 1 always associate sunshine in 
them. When I think of North Wood^do, 1 always thiok^ 
a line day, with the sunbeams streaming down upon EeWJ 
and its woody banks. I mean to devote the first susBJ Wi 
to another visit to Kelvin, which, whatever you may sajii 
worth ten such paltiy streams as your Ammon." Againwl 
again he visited the spot, bathed in the dam, wandtf* 
through the woods, aod, it is even said, climbed tha igi 
tree on which he was wont to sit when a boy. After* 



M return 


Sb returned to Indin, where Btill higher honours awaited him, 
nod where he renniinud in active eervice until 1819, when he 
onw more returned from the East, and took viphia reaideuM for 
several years in England. We hear of no more viaits to the 
Keltin, however; and It ia supposed that, feeling somewhat 
locked by the changes which had been wrouj^hc during his 
lesgthoncd absence, and the melancholy associations which 
ihey esoited in his mind, he had taken a final farewell of the 
locality on his second departure to India. In 1826 he 
"seeived the honour of knighthood, and had the Governor- 
sWp of Madras, an office of great responaibiUly, conferred 
upon him. This distinguished position, however, He was not 
Jestined long to enjoy. He died of cholera at a place called 
Pntteecondah, in the East India Company's territories, on 
th 5th Ja!y, in the following year. Among the numerous 
diaiogtiished warriors and statesman who have attained dis- 
tinflioo in the vast Eastern Empbe of Britain, there are few 
'lio deserve, or will obtwn, more hononrable mention on the 
P«ga of history than Sir Thomas Munro. 

Iieaving Wond^de, near which a, spacious crescent has 
'Mentiy been erected, we now proceed toward the city hy 
^e Great Western Boad. A few minutos' walk brings U3 
W the hospitable house of a friend, where we may us well 
Wifl leave of our courteous renders, who, by this lime, we 
13 tired ua we ourseWea are after our peregrins- 

hralong the windings of the classic Kulvin. 


With the eppearance of Dunlocber and Old Kilpatriii, u 
Bi^n from the Clyde, tLe mejority of our readers muit be 
perfectly flunJliar. Passing Dalmair by the Bteamer, a bus 
range of bills ia seen stretching from east to west, and 
approaching the margin of the river immediately previous to 
its enlargemEnt into the noble proportions of a frith. Aboat 
half-nay up the swelling slopes, and partially concenled 
amid vooded knolls, a tall chimney or two, and Bcveml 
gigantic factories, mark the site of Duntocher ; while » 
cliurcL tower, and a scattered congregation of housu, 
repoabg in the Ehadow of the hills and in close contiguity 
to the stream, indicate to the observant passenger that ik 
famous birthplace of Ireland's patron Saint is before him. 
Those who have only been these localities, however, from 
the bosom of the Clyde, can form but a faint conception of 
the landscape beauties with which they are ennroned, tnd 
must of necessity have entaely overlooked the i 
objects of historical and traditionary interest which I 
situated in their immediate neighbourhood. Few par 
in Scotland, indeed, command such a rich variety of EC 
OB Old Kilpatrick, or are invested with mors pleasing 
cjations. Forming the bonndaiy, as it were, between tiiA'j 
Highlands and Lowlands, it combines the pictnr 
cliurms of both in their most striking and attractive ai 
Yet, in these days of "cheap tripe" and "plea 
aions," by river and rail, comparatively few of onr holi 
wandergra dream of ■viatin^ ttiia Xoc^*,-^ , '\X. \iaa \tt*. 'i 


at of diatancB to recommend it to tlieir admira- 
too near home to be properly appreciated. The 

it hsTe their Ehilling'a worth of steamer or train, 
lequentlf often "go farther and fare worse;" while 
. snatches of BCener7 like those in this vicinity aro 
. great measure to the solitary enjoyment of sadi 
iramblera aa onraelvea, 

weqnence of the facilities of transit afforded by the 
nng river steamers, the tract of country between 
! and Kilpatrick muat be. even to the majority of 
to tie latter, a species of terra iacoffnita. We 
I therefore, in accordance with our usual plan, to 
? readers to that looality by what may not 
Inately be termed the "overland route." Thera' 
Burse, more f/ajs than one to Kilpatricli, as thera 

it places else. We might have taken, for instance, 
BMu! by ToltcT iind Dalmuir ; or the high road by 
B and Hew Kilpatrick. We take neither, however; 
onr characteristic wisdom by steering a judiciooB 

arse, which, although neither the shortest nor ths 

H the merit of being at the same time tlie moat 

B and the most original. Leaving the city, then, 
inton Walk, we make our way towards Fartick. It 
ka difficult matter to leave the city in this direction, 
lems determined, in her westward progress, to ke^ 
. In our boyish days there was a " world'! 
newbere about Finnieston, but where the pole may 
> now-a-days is beyond our ken. " Our anld 
I mither" has long passed that onco well-known 
k, with her stately Btreets, crescents, terraces, and 

What an ogress the old lady must be I gardens 
n fields, cottages and mansions, once liuniiiar to our 
a disappeared in scores within her capacious man, 

!ry is " give, give ! " There is, in truth, 
A jade yet ;" she is still justifying her noble motto, 
fcuing to "flourish," 







Faauig Sandyfard, ne turn aside t<i the right for the 
pnrpoae of pajing a brief visit to the Weflt-end or Kelrai 
Grove Park. This is a recent acqijiaition of the mnnio- 
pality, and one which must ha considered a deacled 
omanient, as well as a sanitniy benefit to the city. The 
raind extension of the town in this direction rendered sadi 
a breathing space neceesary; and if the opportunit)' hsd 
been once neglected, a lasting injuiy wonld undonbtedly 
have been inflicted on the eomniunity. The Lord Provost 
(Stewart), Magistrates, and Council, therefore, acted triKly 
when, in 1853, the lands of Kelvin Grove and WoodflJc 
came into the market, to secure them for the benefit of iIk 
public The original outlay, something like £90,000, mi. 
it ia true, a heavj sacriSce, but it was confidently anfidpatei! 
that a large proportion of the sum would be realized fniP 
building fena on certmn parti of the grounds — an anticipt- 
tion whieh time htia shown to be pertectly correct. Tbew 
&10 groaads are Eituated on the esetern bank of the clone 
Kelvin, which, under a fringe of trees, flows somewhat Ituil)' 
past the spot They are in all about forty-two urei io 
extent, and present an exceedingly agreeable variety o! 
surface. Along the stream there h a stripe of level swud; 
but from thia they slope gradually upwards, in graeefull]' 
swelling terraces and banks, to a verj' considerable bdglit 
From a design by Sir Joseph Paxton, the surface it besiti- 
fulljr intersected with walks and carriage drives, turning uul 
twining in every direction — now gliding under stately ia*s 
of trees— now meandering amidst blooniing borders and pj 
parterres, and anon winding in the sunsbtne round tertusj 
of smoothest and ft'eahest green. From thesu 
is now crowned with long ranges of mnjeatio edifices, tl 
is a prospect of great extent and loveliness. At the si 
tor's feet are the groves afld glades of the Park jt 
with sauntering groups — women and children, men ■ 
maidens, in couples, or pacing along in solitary specnlatit) 
Here two lovera are sealed apart discouriiing soli notliiogll 



a party of wild youths nre sraokinn ihe frBgrant weed, 

and "laughing conaumGdly," while yonder, with spectacled 

nose and arms akimbo, measuring hia Innely round, ia the 

professor or preacher pondering what to-morrow, from chair 

or pulpit, he shall give forth. Looking beyond, we have a 

long stretch of the Clyde stid all its bustle of trade and 

commerce, with the heights of KJlpatrick. and Kilmaluolm 

rising in the distance. To the southward, over the green 

slopes and meadows of Renfrewshire, are the bmes of Gleo' 

iffer — Tiinnahill's own braes — the Fereneze Braes, Cruig of 

Caraoi'k, NeilstoD Pad, Bnllygelth, where PoUck of the 

Course of TirM spent his boyhood and youth, and to the 

BOnth-east the green-wooded braes of Cathkin and Dyuhmont, 

To the northward, again, we have a glimpse of the Campsie 

and Strathbkne Hills, with a Highland Ben or two peeping 

through the gap of the Lennox. From this commanding 

spot, indeed, may be scanned the principal landscape features 

within eight or ten miles of Glasgow, with nearly all the 

HblniE, and villages, and hamlets, and chateaus included 

^Hbhio that range. Thus far wo have had nothing but words 

^Rf praise to bestow upon the Park and its patrons. Before 

leaving ita precincts, howoTer, we must indulge in a word or 

two of animadversion. The great staircase leading to the 

uppermost terrace — one of the most spacious and beautiful 

^prectiona of the kind we have ever witnessed — is stowed 

HkMy in a corner, where it must he looked for — positively 

^Hirclied after — before it can be seen. Why, in the name of 

^Ht that is picturesque, was not this grand structure placed 

under the centre of the towering r!inge which crowns with 

dignity Ihe brow of the slope? In such a position it would 

have formed an imposing feature in the landscape of the 

^Jluk, while in its present situation it is nearly, if not alto- 

^^Mberlost. Could this oversight — for such we must consider 

^^Miot yet be remedied? Then there is the Kelvin, a pur- 

^^b common-sewer, redolent of the most unsavoury compnri- 

^^b. Can nothing be done to cleanse its foul bosom of that 


perilous Btnff whicli loads the air witii unholy o3auK,ind 
threatcoa tlie lieges wilh fevera and other deadlj' nuUkl 
irhich are bom of miasmatic itcnch? There was 
time soma tnlt of prevention this pollotion, by ml 
draining and fiUratian, but hitherto the evil ii unmitigUeAi 
and every ornament that is added to the grounds, is tharefbn 
but an additional enticement to the breathinj! of unwbolesoi* 
airs. "Reform it altogether," say we to the authorides, 
at once renounce the credit which you claim as the foundi 
of a new place of recreation for the people. Beautirylha 
grounds as you may, while this evil remainE without remeflil, 
we ram only bok upon your efforts in landscape gaTdening^, 
us the adornment of a lazar-house — the whitening of 

But we have yet a lengthened nay before tia, and i 
jogging. Passing Clayslaps, and having stolen a g 
our friend Sandie Baird's beautiful and neatly- arranged bed 
of paosies, surpas^ng in their loveliness of hue the "gldj 
of a Solomon,"" we proceed for a mile or so along the hjgl 
way to Dumbarton, when we turn to the north, near tl 
west-end of Partick, by what is locally denomiDBted ti 
" Craw-road." 

An agreeable walk of some half-hour's duration belvH 
verdant hedgerows and overhanging trees — during wli 
we pasa in succession the mansion of Woodcroft, the a) 
warld hamlet of Balshagrie, and that most stately but mc 
mdaneholy edlGce, the Lunatic Asylum at Gortna 
brings us to Annisland Toll, where, turning to the left,l 
pursue our journey in a westerly direction. From t 
number of coal-pits in this vicinity, it is obvious t 

oiiilgntinn lu tM lull of goli^ auil li now, wa Iilve Da doubt, va 


alaabte lilaek diamond nbouniis to an cstraordinary degree 
in the bowela of the lind over wbioli we are now trending. 
Carboniferous diatriets are generally anything but attractive 
to the lover of landacapa beauty. The country around u£ 
lioirever, is an exception to the rale. Those fine woods ti 
the north-eaat are portions of the spacious pleasure grounds 
of Garacabe Honae, the biLudsome seat of Sir Archibald Hay 
Campbell of Succoth, Bart., M.F.; while the dense masses 
of folinge immediately to the leil of our present course, 
eonceal from our view the mansion of Jordanhin, the family 
■eat of Jas. Smith, Esq., a gentleman who has long been 
a distinguiahed ornament of the scientific and literary circles 
of the west of Scotland. 

In former times the Jordanhill estate was held by a 
family named Crawford, one member of which achieved 
a name in Ms country's history by an exploit remarkable 
afike for coolness and bravery. This individual was Captain 
John Crawford of Jordanliill, who, in 1571, with a small 
band of followers, succeeded in taking, by on ingenious 
stratagem, the Custle of Dumbarton. Afler the battle of 
Langside and Queen Mary's flight to England, this strong 
fbrtrcss, then deemed all but impregnable, was held in the 
interest of the royal exile by the Governor, Lord Flemiiig, 
■who steadily refused to surrender it to the party then iu 
_, power. Crawford, who had been a servant of the unfor- 

nate Dornley, and was of course a bitter enemy to the 
I, formed the resolution of seizing this stronghold, and 

[tting her friends to flight. Accordingly, on the occasion 
(dlnded to, with a select party of bis retainers, he marched 
towards the castle aSlei night-fall, provided with ropes and 
■Baling- ladders, und having in his company an individual 
who was familiar with every step upon the rock. Arriving 
at the castle abont midnight, and being completely screened 
from observation by a dense fog, they commenced operations. 
After encountering great difficollics and considerable nhirm, 

1 occasioned by one of the men being seized with a convulsive 




fit wliile half-way up the ladder, they at length Bttnined n 
position OD the walla, and, afler slriking down a aentind, whn 
was about to give warning of their presence, they rasbed 
upon the sleeping garrison, shouting, " A Damley! a Dura- 
ley!" and easily succeeded in effecting its capture. The 
assailants did not lose a single man, while to com]ileteiw 
the surprise of the opposite party that they eurrendtred 
almost without a blow, and of course their loss wu alio 
trifling. The Governor managed to tniilte his escape; hat* 
nuinber of individuals of distinction were made prisonon 
within the walls of the castle, among whom was Hamilton, 
Bishop of St. Andrew's, who waa immediately tried fa i 
participation in the murder of Darnley, and being coi 
was sGoCenced to be banged, drawn, and quartered. 
of clergy had by this time gone completely out of fashido. 
tmd his reverenee, who was generally detested, ihotl^ ' 
aftenvards expiated his crimes on & tree at Stirling. Tb J 
following wicked Ladn couplet is wid to have been w 
on ths occasion:— 

FnmilibiA nl nobli I'alia poma fargi." 
Passing the entrance to Jordanhill, from which a le 
ened avenue of stately trees leads to the hotiee, wbickfl 
effectually concealed from view by its fine sylvan scrEen, 1 
tarn again towards the north by a rough country road tc 
" Red Town," This is the name given to several r 
colliers' houses, which are quite as plain, UDattractiva, a 
uncomfortnble in appearance, as such edifices Eonerally M 
^\'e are rather surprised, however, with one ndjuuct ti 
Red Town, namely, an extensive and somewhat elegl 
school. From its cnpatity one would iraagino i 
signed to accommodate not only the juvenile but also t 
adult inhabitanta of the village, and probably, indeed, I 
grown-np natives are fully as much in need of the schod 
muater as the rising generation. The moral and intellecli 
culture of the mining population has hitherto, w 



O »7, been too much negiecled. Such 
one alluded to ehould undoubtedly be attaclied to every 
collier Tillage ; and we were gratified to learn, from a little 
fair-haired girl, wlioinwe overtook with a couple of pitchers, 
returning from the well, that there were " a gey wheen o' 
Bchalore in the Bchule bnitb on ilka days and Sundays," 

From the Red Town the road gradually ascends to a con- 
siderable eminence called Clober, or Cowdonhill, which com- 
manda an eitensjve and beautiful prospect of the aurronnding 
country. On the summit of this elevation, and overshadowed 
by a girdle of trees, stands the ancient mansion of CowdoB, 
a drearj , desolate, and wobegone looking edifice. This struc- 
ture is two storeys in height, and has at one period been of 
considerable extent. It was in bygone years tbe seat of a 
family named Crawford. About the beginning of last cen- 
tury it passed by marriage, with tbe extensive estates attached 
to it, into the possession of a certain John Sprewl, who 
thenceforth adopted the double surnwne of Spcewl Crawford. 
From various dates which are still legible on the walls it 
would appear that the bnilding has undergone extensive 
alterations at different periods. Over the doorway there is 
a heraldic carving, much defaced by time, but on which a 
bird and a star are still observable. On one of the gablei, 
which has lately been rebuilt with tbe old material, there i» 
a star, with tho date 16G6 ; and on tbe front of the tene- 
ment, in a sadly dUapidated condition, is a sun-dial, with the 
names of John Sprewl and Isabella Crawford inscribed od it, 
with date 1707. 

Strange stories are current in tbe countryude concerning 
this " bleak house." A spot is pointed oat in the nuigb- 
bourbood where tbe grass will jiot grow, and which, accord- 
ing to tradition, was tbe scene of some dark deed in days of 
yore. Couple tbis fuct with the circumstance that a quantity 
of human bones were, many years ago, found in a portion of 
the edifice, which was known as " Cowdon'a den," and the 
■Uligcnt reader will have no difficulty in coming to tbe 




conclusion tliat the house miiat be haunted. Sudi, accorihig 
to popular rumour, is indeed the case. People shake th^ 
heads when spokun lo on the subject, and hint n 
they are willing to express. One old lady of the Cranford 
family, we are informed, haTiog hidden a pot of gi 
niche of the wall during her life, could " get nae res 
grave" afterwards until she had revealed the secret. A sKtj 
a also told of a certain wicked laird, a friend and associst* 
of CIttverhouse, the persecutor, who was an occasional vi 
bere. This worthy, on his death-bed, is said to have ordered 
the servants to keep immense quantities of coals on the fire, 
that he might have a foretaste of what was awaiting him H 
the state of existence upon which he was about tc 
course such an uncanny end could forebode no good fortU. 
future ; and it iii said the laird is still doomed t( 
hLi ehirt of fire," the glimpses of the moon ! K such bt 
really the case (and we arc not by any means prepared IS 
prove tha reverse), it must certainly gall him sadly, if spiritf' 
care for such subluoary things, to witness tb 
has recently befallen bis former dwelling. Externally ithti 
indued a most ghastly and dolefhl appearance, while llilt 
interior, sic transil gloria mundi, is inhabited, not by owl 
tnd bats, but by several families of colliers. A section of ^ 
ediSce has also been fitted up as a counting-house and storj 
for a neighbouring colliery. We ask a decent -looking 
woman, whom we meet at the door of the venerable mans 
if she is not afraid to live in a house which bears s 
U) ominojB character, " Atweel no," she replies, " ] 
Iwjved here for the last four years, and never saw onjlbin, 
miiir than mjsel', unless maybe now and then a fou m" 
!r%i ibinldng," shu continues, "the wae drap whisky 's I 
■wM spcerit that now-a-days enters the auld ricHe o 

'tUfi** leaving Cowdonhill, we may mention that a curii 
" lilt ofuntiquity was for muny generations in 
'' t<^ 'Mtllf . Tbis was a silver spoon, the mouth-pieee I 


^Rich ■ 

t less tban three inches in diameter, ond Iiud 
the following legend inscribed on it : — 

At a Bubaequent date the following limping hut pilhy lines 
were also engraven on this gigantic tabW implement : — 

Descending the brae in a northerly direction, a few 
minutes' walk hrings us to the Forth and Clyde Canal, 
which we cross a little to the westward, and again proceed- 
ing towards the north, are speedily at the famoaa gate of 
Garscttdden. This place was formerly a favourite resort of 
holiday rnnablers from Glasgow and Paisley, who eamo for 
the purpose of inspecting the prMeipal entrance, which is 
somewhat of an architectural cnriomty. The gateway h & 
massive yet elegant structure, of cSEtellHtcd form, and, heing 
unlike in size and appearance to any cdifico of a similar 
hind in the west of Scotland, it excited in a high degree, on 
its erection, the wonder of the common people, who formed 
numerous myths to account for its origin. What these were 
we need not now rehearse, aa the gate has long ceased to be 
a nine days' wondar, and is hut seldom visited. The house 
and estate of Garseadden are at present in the possession of 
John Campbell Coiquhoun, Esq. of Killermont and Gars- 
eadden. In the early part of last century the lairJs of 
Kilpatrick (in which parish we now are) were famous for 
their devotion to the cup. Like Tam o' Shanter and laa 
uronie, the Souter, they afl "were fou for weeks thegither." 
Anecdotes of the wild doings io these days are still rife in 
the pariah, and as one of ihem I'efers to a former laird of 
Garseadden, wo may as well give it here. A party of these 
roystering country squires were, it scema, on one occasion 
engaged as usual in a deep drbkiog match, when ono of the 

Epany observed the Liird to fall suddenly quiet, wliile u 



DCNTocncn and old kilpatrick. 

Btrnnge expression passed over his countenance. The 
observer said nothing regarding the circum stance, howflrer, 
and the merriment went on for some time as formerly. At 

■• In Iho Ihnmi o- ■torigs lelHn', 
Slukin' bud* uui juhidg qnm^" 

another individual remarked "Is na' Garscadden loflkiiig 
unca gush the nichl?" "And so he may," add the indivi- 
dual first alluded to, " Tor he has been, to my knowledBei 
wi' his Maker during the last half hour; I noticed tun 
slipping ana', puir fallow, but didna like to disturb tha 
conviviality by speaking o't!" It was even so; the poof 
laird had died '^in harness." 

About a mile due north from Garscadden House, wbi>!ll 
is finely ernbon-ered in woods and gardens of tiie moit 
luxuriant growth, rises Qu'lehill, a gentle but commanding 
elevation, crowned with a tiara of lofty trees. Tow»rfi 
this pobl we now wend our way, amid leafy hedgerow i 
dappled with flakes of bloom, and loading the breezes, tf 
they come and go, with sweetest perfume ; through d 
pastures studded with picturesque groups of kine; and tj 
corn-fielda rippled with verdure, and palpitating, aa it wert 
to the Eong-bursta of the aky-cleaviog lark. Noi 
comfortable farm- steading, where 


while our unwonted presence is greeted by the h 
honest but rather unwelcome hark ; and anon ws 
ing by some lonely patch of planting, reckoning the n 
of voices that swell its choral hymn, or the number of bloo 
eyes that are winking in the fitful rndiauce that keeps ft 
ing and going through its fluttering canopy of leaves. 
soon find ourselves on the anmmit of Castlehill. This s] 
was, in ancient times, "when wild in woods 
fathers ran," a station or fort on the celebrated wall n 
wbicb the Roman invadera etiicaYOiiittd. \.q lihcek thi c 
iess iDoursions of the unaM\iivic4 ( 



raanding position, and tUe vast extent of country which 
it overlooks, this tnuat have buen a. post of considerable im- 
portance to thebaffltd "tnastersof the world." " Graham's 
Dyke," B9 the immense burner whith then existed between 
the Forth and Cljde ia called in popalar parlance, passed 
immediately over the hill on ivhioh we are now stationed. 
Thia vast military structure, commenced by Agriuols and 
completed by Antonine, was about twenty-seven milea in 
length from river to river. It consisted, according to the 
best authorities, of a great fosse or ditub, averaging forty feet 
in width, by abaut twenty in depth, and extending in one 
unbroken line over hill and plain. On the aouthem side of 
(he ditch, and within a few feet of ita edge, was erected a 
rampart of niingled stones and earth, about twpnty feet 
in height and twenty-four in thickness at the base. This 
rampart, or agger, was surmountffl by a parapet, behind 
which TRD a level platform for tile accommodation of the 
defenders. Within the wall, and generally approximating 
to it, was a regularly causewayed military road, while it is 
supposed that not fewer than nineteen forts were erected at 
various distances along the line. In the lapse of centuries, 
the traces of this mighty bulwark hove become in a great 
measure obliterated. The plough has passed over the greater 
portion of its course, and it is only here and there, by alight 
indentations of the soil, that it can he now discovered. From 
time to time, however, pieces of rude sculpture, carved 
stones, urns, and tablets have been discovered along it^ track 
— interesting relics of tha haughty strangers who, long, long 
■go, sought dominion in our land. Two inscriptions were 
dug up many years ago at Caatlebill, and are now, to all 
praclieal intents and purposes, as efiectually interred again 
ia the bowels of the Iluutcriun Museum. One of these has 
» number of rude figures, emblematic of a Roman inc- 
tory over our Caledonian forefathers, carved upon it, with 
U inscription referring to the cora^WlvQ^ of a. wo^acoa. 
Hrti'oii of the wall. Mr. Stuart, in Vvi CttUdo^vv ■BBtattfto., 


pvea Uii! following traiulation or the legend inscribsd 

■■ To lilt Etnpenr Cienr TIUIi Aelim 
HHdr[iinus Antoninus 
Ancuiitti l-iu^ tfllherrfhlscoanUT. 
Tho Serond LeitlDn, Amiaala. 
(Dedlcaie ilili, Juvbg eieFmed) 

The second stone was discovered in 1336 by a neigUboonng 
farmer, and was presented by the proprietor of Castlehill lo 
ttie HunterUn Museum. It is a. votive tablet, nnd n 
dedicated " to the eternal field deities of Britain." 

On the summit of Castlehill faint outlines of the Roman 
encampment ,Bre still traceable. A belt of trees has been 
taatefUlly planted around the spot, nhile the inlei 
one unbrotcen verdnut area, save that one lone tree, 
ingly by accident, hits sprung up near the centre. WiSt' 
we are here a flock of cattle are scattered about the a 
closure peacefully chewing their cud, the cushat is cooii 
HmoDg the branches overhemj, and thi; blackbird pi^ 
an a leaf-hidden pedestal. It is difficult, indeed, In the 
times to realize to ourselves the idea that the "pomp a 
drcumstance" of ruthless war have ever marred thesoeii 
Yet here the Roman helmet has gleamed, the Roman svo 
has clashed, and here man has encountered man in dire ai 
deadly feud. But 

The prospect from Castlehill is of the ni 
description, and would, to any lover of landscape beat 
amply recompense the jonmey of a day. To the north 
seen the full range of the Kilpatrick Uills from Dumbn 
to their western termination. Looking westward over 
finely undulating country, adorned with towns, villages, tl 
mansions innumerable, we have the Campsie range from tl 
peak of Dungoj-ne to Kilsyth. Turning gradually from t 
south towards the west, we have the valley of the Cly 
from Tiutoc to Dumbuck spread as in a map before 

(taze, vrith DychnioDt, Catbkin, Bolljgeich, Neilaton. Pad, 
and the Renirewsliire Hills, forming the picturesque outline 
□f tbe horizon. To attempt a description of a scene bo riuh 
and BO inSniEcly varied in its featureE, would, in truth, hut 
be to exhibit our onrn utter incapacity : and as Gelf-estpem 
forbids that we shouW parade our own deficiencies, we shall 
content ourselvea with quietly recommending the reader to 
take stick in band snd witness it on hia own account, while 
we make our descent on Duntochcr. 

Immediately to the north of Castlehill passes the high- 
vay from New Kilpatrick to Duntochcr, along which, in 
ft westerly direction, we now pursue our course. A pleasant 
walk of about two miles, prmcipally down hill, brings us to 
tko Tillage of Faifley — a kind of suburb of Duntocher. 
These villages, with Ilardgate, form as it were one u-regulor 
and straggling, but cleanly and comfortable looking town- 
ship. The bouses are, for the most part, plain two-storeyed 
edifices, and in many instances huvo small gardcna attached 
to them. The population are, in general, eitber directly or 
indirectly connected with the estenaive factories of Messra. 
Dunn & Co. In 1808, when the works at Duntocher first 
came into the hands of the late William Dunn, Esc|., iho 
Tillage was almost deserted. The former proprietors hud 
lost heart, and everything was in a languishing condition. 
Mr. Dunn, a wan of indomitable energy and perseTerance, 
who had raised himself from a humble rank in society hy big 
industry and shrewdness, speedily infused new life into the 
(nncern. The works were gradually extended and improved 
ouder his vigilant and enlightened superintendence, until at 
length they attained a high state of efficiency; and the 
working population incrca.sed from 150, the original number, 
to upwards of 1,G00. By tho almost unprecedented success 
of his manufacturing operations, Mr. Dunn at leogth achieved 
a splendid fortune, and died in the possession of one of the 
:in«st estates in the west of Scotland. At his decease, a few 

tago, tho bulk of tho property thus accumulated passed 



into the hands of bis surviving brother, Alexander DaDn,E«q i 
the prcifuiit proprietor. 

Id proportion to ila siio, Duntocher seems to be implj 
supplied with the " means Had applianees " of religious acd 
intellect ufll culture. There ore no fewer than five plaw* of 
worship in its immediate ncij^hbourhood, to each of nhidi 
\a attached an educational cstablishmeot ; while there vt 
several other schools supported by parties unconnected with 
any loco! congregation. We understand that there are also 
several libraries, by means of which the readbg portiDn 
of the popuUition have, at a moderate rate, their UteiVT 
Fei|niremcnts abundantly gratified. 

The situation of the village is highly romantic, and mm 
of the walks in its vicinity are really of the most deligfadi 
description. In the bacliground are the beautiful F* 
Patrick HiUa, scarred with their picturesque glens, di 
which streamlets are ever tumbling in foam, 
jrently under the long yellow broom; whila imined 
below is the fertile valley of the Clyde, with its i 
slopes, its stately mansions, and never-ceasing traffic, 
inhabitants generally, oa might indeed be espected, hava 
more robust and healrhful aspect than is ordinarily to 1 
seen in less happily situated manufacturing comi 

On a hill of moderate height, which overlooks Duntocht 
there existed until recently distinct traces of a 
Roman encampment or fort. These are now almoit oblj 
crated; but from time to time many valuable relics ot a 
produced by the builders of the great wall — tablets, altai 
vases, SiC, have been discovered at this interesting loc " 
Most of these have been deposited for preservation int 
Honterian MuEcum, Some curious subterranean chambaa 
supposed to he of Roiuan origin, were also discovered in 6 
vioiaity of the fort in the year 1775. In one of these i 
earthen jar was found, with a female figure formed of reddil 
clay, and a few grains of whent. At the foot of tha t 
there is a bridge, which is aiso popularly supposed i 


1 erected by the Romans, but which, notwitbstniiding a 
Latin inscription la that effect, hy Lord Blanryre, who re- 
paired the atmctura in 1772, is Baserted by long-headed 
antiquaries to have no more claim to that honour than 
'what mayariae From the circumstance that the atones of which 
it is composed -were probably tnlceri from the neighbouring 
fort. We make no pretenaiona ouraelTes to skill in these 
matters, anil shall not presume to express an opinion on ihe 
subject. Wq may mention, however, that when seen from 
the water-worn channel of the rivulet, Ihe bridge has an 
ancient and picloresqae appearance ; and that we Bbould 
not like to call its antiquity in qucation where two or three 
of the Duntocher folks were gathered together. Right or 
wrong, they are determined to have it a Koman cdiGce, and 
would, there is reason to fear, be inclined to deal anything 
but gently with an obstinate incredulant. Talk ill of Habby 
Simson at Kilbarchan, inquire for a "bull " at Rutherglen, 
or A " Btcpple " at Renfrew ; but by all uieims avoid specu- 
lating on the genuineneas of the bridge at Duntocher, if you 
have the least regard for the good-will of the natives. 

Leaving Duntocher, we now take our way towards the 
village of Old Kilpatrick, which is situated on the northern 
bank of the Clyde, about a mile to the westward. Immedi- 
ately after our departure from Duntocher, we p.isa on the 
left the line polides of Auchentoahan, the handsome scat of 
Alexander Dunn, Esq., and a little farther on the mansion 
and grounds of Mountblow, likewise the property of that 
gentleman. For bcnuty of aite and extensive command of 
scenery tlicse stately edifices, which are in close proximity 
to each other, will certainly bear favourable compaiisoa 
with any in the lower ward of Clydeadale. In the groundi 
of Auchentoshan, several fuint vestiges of the Roman barriur 
are traceable ; and in the gardens of Mountblou', there is an 
aocicnt monumental cross, which is supposed to bo of the 
twelfth century, and b similar to those which have been 

Kil Bt Cantyre and in the Hubiidcs, This curious relic 

308 DCSTOCBCR ASD olh ktipatmcc. 

into the linnds of his surviving brother, Aiexand jvorftDCE'- 
the preaent proprietor. ''*" it^M 

In proportion to its sire, Puntocber -' ■• ""wO'™ '" '" 
supplied with tlie " nieaiu aad applianc- -^'^ "''s- 1"™°"" 
iBtellectual culture. There are no & "^ '''™ Eubjectri, tin | 
worship in its immediate neighbot)' > '"'^n entirely effuwi; 
ia attftched an educatiowJ estab' ■;'''«>ed exposure loll* 
seveml other schools suppgrted ' ^ '^^ inscription ii pw- ' 
any Iwud congregation. We ■ >3'Pt figures on ihe un)e( 
several libraries, hj means , rf ornament, are all Ibutcin 
of the population have, nt ae elements have indeed UiMi 
requirements abundantly 1^ ^^^"^ '* ""^ commissioned to 
The situation of tbe^^^g reWa of a long vanished tp 
of the walks in its vic^/ .»<« lengthened period from iho 
description. In th* , - . ' Uib wiiid and the rain," we would ] 
Patrick Hills, scair .'^. Dunn that it should be immcdintulj 
which streamlets 

D DuntQQher nnd Eilpatrick ihnf 
called Dolnottar, from the brow ql 
g^oTthe most lovely and riuhlyvi 
pliable. The Clyde, now swelling ii 
en stretching away intc 
i bosom fretted with i 
a plying busily to and fro between H 
t hand is the Kilpatrick t 
^]d the rock}- height of Dumbitck ; ivhileB 

regular margin of the water, Ii 
JjnnglaHS, and the gigantic rock of Due 
a glance before the guze of tbo special 
A ^ of the river are Erskine House, the ■ 
I, and its beautifully wooded banlu I 
iQlasgow and the hills above Grecnoulc^ 
* scene altogether is of the n 
j^jieed not wonder that it has often tempb 
^ le exercise of his art, Such of oi 
e old Theatre Royal, Queen Street, ' 

(jently under 


^ ^ ^Hbe famous drop 

'%^ ^-^ ^WNaismith, 

•^ V^ NLthatn< 

- j^ ^ _ ^or it h} 


^ ^ ^Hbe famous drop-scene, taken from this 

'^ "which was so highly 

not less a sum than five 
by the manager of one of 
ie prospect from thb "coigne of 
ly been transferred to the canvas 
if it has ever been more faithfully or 
. than in the instance to which we have 
.nding the spot to the professional atten- 
dern aspirants to landscape honours, we re- 
.ore our downhill course. We may mention at 
jwever, that the tasteful little residence on the 
che hill was occupied for several years by our late 
respected town-clerk, Mr. Keddie, and his family. 
ne Tillage of Old Kilpatrick is situated on a level space 
1 ground between the base of the adjoining hills and the 
Clyde. It 18 of no great extent, and consists principally of a 
angle street, which forms a portion of the highway between 
Glasgow and Dumbarton. The houses are generally of the 
plainest architectural description, and several of them are 
indeed in a half- ruinous condition. There is a number of 
oosie-looking dwellings about it, however; and, from a 
pretty extensive application of whitewash, the place has, 
on the whole, a clean and tidy aspect, while the numerous 
well-kept gardens about it increase the attractiveness of its 
iq[ypearance, and at the same time augur well for the home 
oomfort of the inhabitants. At the west end of the village 
stands the pavsh church, a plain but neat edifice with a 
handsome tower ; and around it, in a spacious church-yard, 
" the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." There are several 
carious gravestones and monuments in the ground, and one 
is pointed out to us as that of St. Patrick. There is no in- 
scription on the monument, but from its appearance it must 
be of a date long subsequent to the age of the great frog- 
destroyer. This individual is traditionally said to have first 
seen tlie light in this vidnity. As in the case of the birth- 



places of other illustrious personages, however, there seem) 
to be some doubt on the subject ; anil whelbcF " his mother 
kept a whiaky-shop in the town of Enniakilk'n," m ike 
popular Irish song has it, or whetlier he tntiie of tis 
" dscent people " of Kilpalritk, it will probably be no esiy 
matter now-a-days to <ietemiine. There are two other plsca 
of worship beudes the Eaiablished Church in the village, 
namely, a smail but nest edifice in connection irith the Frue 
Churcli, and an old United Presbyterian meeting-howo 
of somewhat dreary appearance. The place altogcllier, 
indeed, has rather an " auld iritrld" air, and has npparemlj 
undergone bat little alteration for many yeara. 

A ehort distance west from the village is Chapelhill, 1 
spot which is remarkable as having been the terminating 
point of the Roman wall. Formerly it was sopposed dial 
this immense structnrc extended to Dunglasi Castle, bal 
modem antiquaries, after minute investigation, have hcconuj 
satisfied that it was at tins locality that the terininal fort wu 
erected. Many relics of Roman art have been diacovereii 
here, and it is even deemed probable that within this eleva- 
tion a number of subterranean chambers may yet remiiii 
uninjured. Two tabular stones were found at the Chapel- 
hill, in the year 1G93, by Mr. Hamlltoa of Orbiston, anJ 
presented by him to the University of Glasgow. Thfflo 
atones, from the inscriptions upon them, appear to havebw 
erected by the sixth and twentieth legions of the annj, £> 
commemorate the erection of the wall and to perpetuate lbs 
niemory of the reigning Emperor Antoninus Pius. On om 
of them is a figure of Victory, with a laurel wreath upoalw 
brow, and an olive branch in her hand. Earthen vases aad 
Roman coins have alao been discovered at Chapelhill, which, 
besides its interesting antiquarian associations, posseaW 
charms of a scenic descrlplion which will abundantly repif 
a visit from the poet or the pujnter. 

After lingering for several hours in the vicinity of OW 
Kilpatrick, now speelin' the richly wooded braes, evW? J 


alteration of podtion revealing a new picture to our gaze, 
and anon threading the mazes of some nameless glen or dell, 
radiant with bloom, and musical with the yoioes of linnet 
and of thrush, we return to the ^^ Red Lion " to satisfy those 
craTingB which, in spite of landscape beauty or sentimental 
association, are continually reminding us of our non-chameleon 
nature. The poet and the rambler are, alas ! alas ! even as 
other men, and must ultimately draw their inspiration iBrom 
such gross materials as the beefsteak and the *' tappit hen.** 
Having taken ^^ our ease in our inn ** for a brief space, we 
proceed to the ferry (for Kilpatrick, unfortunately for herself 
as well as for her visitors, has no wharO) and paying our 
M three bawbees,** are safely deposited on board one of the 
river steamers, which, in somewhat less than an hour 
afterward, is '^blowing off** within a few yards of the 
Glasgow Bridget 

S19 PU S fiHjmui " aire- fHat # 

places of other illustrious pcnonftges, bo' 

to be soma doubt on the subject; and 

kept & irbiskf-sbop in the town 

popular Irish song hu Iti or 

" tlaeent peopb " of EJIpatrick ^JCK AND 

matter now-a-iiuji to itetermir ,,^ 

of worship besidcfl tho EBb .'■ 

namely, a small but neat r 

Churth, and an old V 

of somewhat diearj • ^pngwl'mt 
indeed, has rather an «.>«'"'"ipi<^'"'«n''" 
undergone but little "^ "^ "~ 

A short diitw 
spot wUi-h ia r ^-handed crack" which w 
point of the F /J (irisiopher North, 
this immense />^ pactum, Glo'ater Place, EdinhMg^^ 
modem anti ^'^''ji" of Maga, while discoursing loTOigly 
satialied tb/ ^J^^westem districts of Scotland, aUnded 
erected, J^^ ^ttml phenomenon, "the Whangie," hi 
her«, anf ^^y^Joration. In answer to our inquiry u 
tion a f '^ ji^tyof thia strangely named wonder of I 
tininjur' V^.(for, to our chagrin, we were compelled 
' ■' '. ' „aci ignorance of ita existence), be descril; 
i"''-''' ,. jjj rugged cleft or guUey, evidently 
^^"" -- ■ "'.'oat birth," in the side of the hill at the 

''"' ''' ^linsti"" of the Kilpatrick range, and apj 

'"' .-- "■ ' ,j-,„, in a bygone epoch, of some e; 

'" - ■''' ,(iiioO' lie (JeBcsnted rapturoosly, at the sa 
' . " I., *ild and grizzly fuaturea of the spot, and 

■Liio' prospect of mountain and flood whidi 
.a- '''"^,1 Our curiosity thus excited, we shortly aft 
■'"■'''■''.. 1^- » prilgrimage to the scenu, and, contmy 
>•>■"" ^\. iwcuTH when wizard fancy antldpatea 
•'"' „,i L'-i' •" heauty stem and wild the Wbangie 
'' ,j^ jur flxpectatious, while the far-stretching . 
■lyore than justified the matchless poetio 



irbicli the author of the Lighls and Shadoirs, while seated 
in hiB ain nnicklE chair, had depicted its infinite Tariety of 
feature. Since tbitt period ve have again and again, on 
days of fiunshi;ie and on days of gloom, visited the locality. 
Increased familiarity, in spite of the musty old adverse pro- 
verb, has only produced additional admiration in our mind; 
and, Graving the company of our courteous reaikr for a. long 
day of June, we shall once more, with willing Gtepa, wend 
OQt way to its craggy precincts. 

Taking time by the forelock, we etart at an early hour, and 
emerge to the northward from the mazes of the city by the 
Garscube Road. The morning is gray and lowering, but as 
the barometer bus been doggedly pointing to rain for the 
last twenty-four hours, and never a drop fallbg, we have 
every reason to expect a day of fair weather. There are 
gnlts of blue, besides, intersecting the general murkiness of 
the sky — a capital sign; and, better still, the swallow is 
describing his airy circles at a very considorable elevation 
orerhead. So we proceed resolutely, strengthened with the 
reflection that should it even come to the worst, we are neither 
"Bsnt nor sugar," as the old wives sagely remark, and can 
bear without melting the pattering of a. summer shower. 
Just as we have got outside the city, wo pass a heap of 
Monei by the wayside, which is popularly known as the 
"Smuggler's Cairn." In the days when illicit diatJllation 
was more common than tt is at present, it is xaid that a 
party of the "wee still" folk, while making a midnight run 
with the produce of their unlawful labours, were intercepted 
at Ibia place by a detachment of " gaugers." A severe 
stmg^e ensued, in the course of which one of the smugglers 
was killed. The scene of this tragedy (in which the popular 
sympathy was, as a matter of course, in favour of the du- 
frandera of the Excise) baa ever since been marked by the 
cairn to which we have alluded; and every person passing 
the spot is expected to contribute a stone to the heap. At 
period this deed of blood occurred we have never beea 

able to learn, bat its stony ineitiQriftl bus been in e: 
foe a tengthoDeil pariod, and even yet manifeata no ejvp- 
toDu of diminution. The rapiil extensiun of the city in 
nortb-weat direction, however, will probftbljf er« long obSi 
terftte thia among other more important landmarks. 

From this point to Maryhill, the Port-Dundafi branch rf 
the Forth and Cljde Canal runs for a conaiderabU disMOCt: 
Dearly parallel to the biglivay ; and the traveller, aa he joj). 
along, sees stately veaaels which neem to have deaerted IhaV 
"native element," journeying overland by his aide, 
quote once more the venerable author of ■' The Clyde,"— ■ 
-ThroOKh C«T0ii'»cii»iui«I.B0w«LUiKali1nii 

Ssll th= era 
*nd MfelT 111 

ling bUlosswuDtlDilw. 

□ RHUd tiis OrkSAft TO- 

We have become more familiar with the wonden ol 
humaa iodustry and skill since the days of good old Jolltf 
Wilnon; yet there ore fewsghts more interesting, ewaitf 
thia age of marvels, than the puaaage of a large v 
or down the watery staircaBe of a canaL This process Mf 
be wilneased to perfection in the rieinity of MaryhiU. Wl 
find the canal there, irithin the compass of a 
yards, pasaing by a viaduct over the highway, nest ty * 
BUCcesaioQ of locka proceeding down a coumderitble declin^ 
and immediately thereafter aroaaing with i 
span the deep valley of the Kelvin, Vessels of varioUK ni 
laden and anladen, are continually passing and t 
at thia place, exhibiting the whole machinery of artiBdl 
water transit la full operation. Tbe banks of the cam 
in the neighbourhood are, hemdes. of the most beautif 
description, presenting rather the romantic features ofl 
natural stream than the furmul lineaments of a cbann 
made with handa 
The village of MatyViii itae\i ^TCsatAi tat, faw fenturl 
of nttraction, Tbe boasea aie, tot liie mo*. ■^siSv,*^ 

plainoBt order; and, with the excoption of those in the 
principal street, are pcattored about in the rao&t irregular 
manner. There are a number of public works in the 
"vifinity also, which, however conducive to its prosperity, 
certainly do not tend to increase the amenity of the locality. 
Until recently there was only one church in Miiryhill. 
There are now three ; one in connection with the Estab- 
lishmont, a Free Church, nnd a Roman Catholic Chape!. 
Tliese are all neat, but, in an architectural sense, rather un- 
pretending edifices, and none of them contribute materially 
to the adomtnent of the village. 

Scenes of considerable natural beauty abound in the 
environs of the village. Among these is Dalsholm, a little 
to the west, where the Kelvin, issuing fi-om the tine policies 
of Garscube, rushes over its rocky bed with a soft murmur- 
ing sound, bordered on the one aide by a bold precipitous 
bank, and on the other by gently swelling slopes and fertile 
meads. In some places the water U overhung by a pro- 
fusion of foliage, nhile it is frclted into foam at others by 
projecting channel stones, among which the wagtail and 
chafGnuh are flitting about while we linger on the bridge 
gazing upon the sweet secluded landscape around. A 
paper-mill on the mar^ of the stream, and several cottages 
on the rising grounds, some of them half- concealed by trees 
Ihrougfa which the blue i,moke is ever curling, lend a human 
interest to the upot, without detracting materially from its 
natural loveliness. The larm of Dalsholm is remarkable for 
an ancient tumulus, which was long known by the appella- 
tion of the "Courthill,'' and was supposed to have formed 
in bygone times the judgment-seat of some feudal potentate. 
Some score or so of years ago, the farmer, who probably 
had but a limited degree of reverence for feudality or ifs 
remains, set about removing' the " knowe," partly an a 
lumberer of the ground, and partly with the utilitarian 
view of applying the soil of whicbit waa cDm,■5CT«i.wl».^fs^i- 
dresnng to a neighbouring &e\4. A am»a. -^^.^ViKSi >A *oa 

Aamber was discovered J 
contuning a number </ "t 
i the visor of a belnet J 
if a spear, and the bliA 


mound, ho-wever, had only been removed when thewortraen 
discovered a narrow flight of steps leading towards tbe 
interior of the eminence. Folktwing thia snbterraneaii 
BtaircHee tbr a few pa(«9, it was foand to tenninote in i 
flagstone, on which were strewn a quantity of aebes dt 
cinders. On etriking this atone it sounded hollow, when 
they immediately proceeded to have it removed, 
accomplishing this, a smaU cell or chamber was discovered 
underneath, lined with stone, : 
curiouB relics, Among these 
composed of copper, with tile head of a spear, 
of a sword, the accoutrements probably of 
guished wiirrior of tbe olden time. Several other arti( 
were also found of a nondescript nature, or so much d( 
that the purposes for which they had originally been foi 
could not be ascertained No human remains were fbundj 
the cavity, nor any inscription to indicate the intention i 
which tbe erection hod been cooatructed. Such tumuli 
generally regarded by students of the antique, however,, 
funereal meraentoea of departed greatness ; and the f 
that human bones have &e(|ucntly been found in them see 
to countenance the suppoaition. In the present inital 
the dust of mortality bad so effectually returned to 
kindred dust that not one coherent fragment remuned 
indicate that "a proud one of the earth" had there 
laid at rest. Oblivion, that inexorable creditor, had 
coverably taken posseseion of his "pound of flesh." 
brinpng these things to light, the farmer of 
desisted irom tbe work of detnolition, and a consideiil 
portion of tbe mound still remains intact for the esaminali 
of future antiquaries. 

Returning to the highway, from onr brief digrBsMOO 
Dalsholm, we resume our northerly course, and, after a lA 
sant walk of about a mile, arrive at the little village 
isralet of Garacobe, ■wli\i;\\ cons\ai.» oC a. mill, and some hi 
dotsa houses. The ron4 tA G«a poutt, 


r sn.PATKiCK / 

COmmodiooB bridge, aa it flows from the soft sjlvan banks 
of KiUermont inUi the wild magnificence of the Garacubc 
grounds. Unlike the majority of Scottish streamB, tho Kel- 
vin, in the upper pari; of its course, is dull, sluggish, and 
canal-like. Kiaing in the parish of Kilsyth, it flows in a, 
south-westerly direction, platudly and alow, until it arrives 
at Garscube, when it completely changes character, and 
tumbles and dances as merrily as a mountain brook, while its 
banks become bold, predpitoua, and highly picturesque. The 
Eelvin in both its aspects is seen to great advantage from 
the spot where we now stand. Above the bridge it is over- 
hung by the umbrageous woods of Killermont, which are 
redected as in a mirror on its unruffled surface, while along 
its margin the long rank marsh grasses, mingled with May- 
flowers and other plants that love alluvial richness of boU, 
are waving gracefully, and the broad-leaved water-lily b 
floating lazily on its breast. Passing the bridge, however, 
tde waters seem to become instinct with new life, and mur- 
mur sweetly among the channel stones as they pass with a 
line sweep into the verdant recesses of the Garscube policies, 
^ving and receiving beauty. 

Killermont House, the scat of John Campbell Colquhoun, 
Esq., an eitenaive and elegant mansion, is situated on the 
Kelvin a short distance above our present position; while 
Garscube House, the residence of Sir Archibald Campbell, 
Bart., 3 handsome edifice, in the style of the old English 
manor-house, lies screened in fohage about half-a-mile below. 
The pleasure grounds surrounding the latter structure are of 
great eitent and beauty, being richly adorned with a pro- 
fusion of the finest timber, while they embrace a variety of' 
landscape features of tho most attractive nature. 

Paswng on, we soon arrive at Canniesburo, where the 
road diverges into two branches — one leading by Milngavie 
to Balfron, &c. j the other, which is our route, forms tho 
lughway to Drjmen. There is a toll-houBe aivl 3. liMBitKE sJt. 
Cannieshutn. CVaeo^vVEae.'ia'S-'ysi-nt 



» emnB ghop, tlie window of nbicti is gftrniBhed m'tli tl 
uraal displny of " pnrleys," scones, tope, and I' 
miseellaseous articles which indiuite the habitation of itid 
" Jenny-a'-tbinga'" of the village. AVe are 
with the humble Bignboard of the Canuiesburn hucfalr*| 
Originallj' it seems to have borne on ita honest &ont s list a 
the coramoditiesforming the stock in trade of the proprietri^ 
such M teas, tobncco, &c.; but from Bome cav 
various items havu been successively effaced, until at pi 
the sole in^crfplion is composed of the eomewbat si 
words, " Jabet Mdkbo to Sell." Had we met with* 
an ominous iinnouncetnent in the coJuiuds of a Yankeenc 
paper it might have CKcited but little astonisfameiit m on 
mind; but we must confess that seeing it on the frontoTtt 
Scottish cottage, it rather took us aback. B^g other 
provided for in that line, we did not ventnre to speh Jn 
price. For the benefit of our bachelor frienda, we thick N 
proper, however, to give a more extended curreocy M tltf 
notice of sale. Some of them might really do ivorw til* 
pve honest Janet a call." 

A short distance to the west of Canniesburn we pM*. 
email sheet of water, occupying a low-lying position a Htd* 
to the left of the highway. This is the Cbapelton Lod£ 
which is cbiefly remarkable as the habitat of various iattS 
ing acquatic plants, in seiirch of which it ia occbsomI 
visited by the wandering botanist. The wnter-ben andsiii[ 
frequent the sedgy shallows of this diminutive lochlet, txAit 
is said to contain abundance of fine pike ami eels, in pom 
of which the rustic angler may frequently be obawTedi " 
in hand, lingering on its rushy margin. Contenting o" 
selves with a passing glance &nm the road at its dark Wi ' 
over which the swallows are sporting merrily in the gli . 
of sunshine which now breaks from the sky, we speerUyfi"? 
ourselvca at the beautiful little " kirk-toun " of New E* 


Patrick. This is indeed a lovely locality, and somehow it is 
ever associated in our mind, since first we gazed upon it on 
a blight spring day some dozen years ago, with sunshine, 
and opening leaves, and singing birds. In our memory, to 
use the words of an old song, ^^It shines where it stands.*' 
We can never think of it under a wintry aspect. Often, 
amidst the turmoil and din of the dty, does our fancy 
wander to that quiet and secluded church- yard; while in 
our " mind's ear ^* we seem to listen to the rustling of the 
wind among the waving boughs, or the lonesome murmur of 
the pasfflng bum which ever singeth around the green man- 
sions of the dead. 

New Kilpatrick is a very tiny hamlet. We should suppose 
that there cannot be more than a dozen or so of humble 
cottages in it altogether, if there are even so many. These, 
however, have been set down with an admirable irregalarity, 
and with their patches of garden, well stocked with apple 
trees, gooseberry bushes, and kitchen vegetables, make alto- 
gether a most agreeable rural picture. Then there is the 
bum wimpling along its own little vale of flowers, with 
generally a group of fair-headed urchins paidlin' about in its 
waters, pursuing the minnow, the eel, or the beardie, while 
their gleeful voices fall with a fitful music on the ear. 
Beyond the bum, but half enclosed by one of its links, is the 
neat little church, plain, unpretending, but elegant withal, 
and begirt with a kirk-yard so green and quiet that one 
could ^most wish to lie down in its verdant lap, and be at 
rest. In the immediate vicinity of the church (on the sum- 
mit of a gentle declivity sloping down to the margin of the 
bum, and with a fine spring at its foot) is the manse, a neat 
little edifice of modem erection, in the English cottage style, 
presenting, with its well-stocked garden and sheltering trees, 
an extremely pleasing aspect of elegance and comfort. 
There is also a handsome parish school in the village, with a 
diminutive hostelry, and a post-office in miniature. How 
enviable must be the langsyne t^coVl^^^Kssw^ ^'l ^k^&s^s^. 

brought up in anch a spot, when compared with thoae of tbel 
unfortunaU; Utile onea whose linea of early life have fallan ia 
the noisomo purlieua of the city, and whose first impressioM 
of the world hnve bees formed amid far other inUuenca. 
than thoBB of leaves, or flowecs, or the sweet voi 
haunt the soairaer trees 1 

New Eilpatrick, we may mentioo, is situated directlj on 
the line of the ancient wall of Antoninus Pius, A litlJe Ui 
the eastward of the village a cultivated field is pointed onk 
OS the site of an extenave Roman fort. All traces of tht, 
norka are now obliterated by the plough ; but up to a com-.' 
poratively recent period the outlines of the entrem' 
were dbtinctly visible. The area enclosed within tlifti 
interior valla measured, it' is said, about 480 by 330 feeti, 
while the fortificalJons covered a eonsiderably greater spsM 
of ground. The great military way pasaed through the fott, 
and va^t quantidea of the stooes of which it was composed 
have at varioua times been removed for building purposes by 
persons in the neighbourhood. One farmer remarked, 
indeed, that the Roman works " had proved a perfectqouTT 
for the parish." Tradition still points to a spot called llw 
"Bear's Don" as the burial-place of the garrison; and* 
welt, long surrounded by sedges and rushea, the outlet tf 
which has been removed by means of a, drain to the edge Oi 
the Geld whereon the rampart stood, was supposed, freol 
certain remains of mason-work found about it, I 
ministered to the necessities of the Roman soldiers. Carved' 
stones, fragments of pottery, ancient coins, and other rel 
of antiquity, have also been found at various periods ia I 
vicinity of New Kilpatrick, indicatbg the presonoe at « 
distant epoch of the seif-styled " masters of the world" 

Resuming our northerly course, we are speedily on gronaii 
where the foot of the conqueror never trod. " Hitbarto "B 
came, but no farther," is the legend of the great wall 
was a mark of coni^uest, it was likewise an acknowledgn^Li 
cf weakness. 


**Tbe ware of Fortb vu Joined to Clyde, 
When Rome's brood nmpart stretched ftom tide to tide, 
With bnhrarlu strong; with towers soblimelv crowned, 
While winding tnbes conreved each martial sound. 
To guard the legions fh>m their painted foes, 
^ vast unwearied toil the structure rose, 
when fierce in arms, the Scot, by Carron's shore, 
BesU^ned for war, the chase and mountain boar, 
As the chafed lion, on his homeward way 
Returns for rengeance, and forgets his prey.** 

A beantifiil tract of countrj now lies before us, and our path 
h amid fertile fields, wide-spreading pastures, and shadowy 
woods. On one hand we have the Eilpatrick range of hills 
approaching dose to the road ; on the other, over wooded 
knolls and picturesque straths, the romantic Campsie Fells, 
stretching away to Dungoyne and the ^'Earl's Seat.'* 
Passing in succession the mansions of Mains, Balyie, and 
Craigton, we approach the eastern shoulder of the Eilpatrick 
range, with its finely marked terraces of trap, and rich 
yariations of outline. At one comer we observe a numerous 
series of basaltic columns of perfect prismatic form, and 
arranged in the most regular order, both in a transverse and 
vertical direction. It is well known that many geological 
features of a highly interesting nature are to be found upon 
the rugged surface of these lulls, and that the scientific 
**8toneknappers " of our city firequently visit their recesses, 
hammer in hand, in pursuit of their favourite studies. 
Various botanical rarities are also to be found nestling in their 
sunny nooiks. Among these are the orange-coloured hawk- 
weed (hieracium aurantiacu7n)j the long-leaved water hem- 
lock (cicuta virosd)f the serrated winter green (pyrola 
secunda), and, according to Hopkirk, the woolly yarrow^ 
(Achillcea tomentosd). Some doubts having been expressed 
by Hooker as to whether the latter species really existed in 
this habitat or not, a number of our field botanists, some 
years since, instituted a most rigorous search for the dubious 
plant, with the view of securing immortality for themselves 
by having their names inserted in the next edition of the 
**Plora." There labours were «3\ m wxl^'W«^^^^»ai *?iw^ 


plant, if it ever reajly existed there, had either been ( 
tirpst«d, or wemed determioed 

Among those who thuB ranged the glena and the wUd woo4 
go dreary, vras an old friend of our own, who, hoping apii4 
hope, persevered in his senroh after ail others had given tf 
in des[>air. Month aiier month, and season after aeisaai 
-with trne botanical patience, he was to he fonnd ponuing 
his deviona eourie with downcast eyes among the everiaitii^ 
hille, and sLill the yellow-flowered yarrow evaded his pryinj* 
gaze. At length one of hw companions, a pawky old cails/, 
determined that hia wish should be gratilied. He accord* 
ingly procured some specimens of the plant from a gardo^ 
and hieing to the braes, stuck them into the earth al 
wlienj the enthusiast was almo^ certain to pass. 1 
at onee took — the gudgeon was caught. No one t 
diMOVury; but a &vr daji thereafter the yarrow 
appeared among his associates, shouting, "Eurekal Eurekal'^ 
and proudly exhibited to his conscious assodates what bf 
fondly fancied the reward of all hia toils. He would " wi 
immediately to Sir William;" he would "send him 1 
choicest specimens;" and a happy man indeed was he, as 
6ncy he saw his own name in " gude black prent," assodaM 
for ever with AcMUtea tomenCosa and the Kiljiatiick Hilll. 
His triumph, we need scarcely add, -was but diorC-U>sdi< 
Some busybody informed him of the trick, and at o 
took the wind out of the belljing siuls of his vanity. . 
disappointment was beyond expreswon severe. Ho i 
never heard to men(ion the genua AckUlcca again, and t* 
may add, he never forgave the perpetration of i 
cruel of practical jokes. 

We now crosa the Allander, a dark raoss-eolonred ri 
which has its origb a short distance to the left ii 
"Baker's Loch," among the neighbouring moors, 
stream, after a winding course of ten miles or so, finds it 

WB7 into the Kelvin, through the channels of which, !□ 
seasons of drought, it liimisheB a Bapp!}" of water to the 
Fortick Mills. The noods of Carbeth- Guthrie ere next 
passed, when we arrive at what may appropriatelj be 
UenominatcU the greitt portal of the Highlands. The Kil- 
patiick and Campsie rouges, which have been frraduollj 
approximating, are here separated hy a gap about four mUes 
in breadth, on one side of which, like huge guardians of the 
PASS, tower Dungoyne and the Earl'a Seat, and on the other 
the swelling heights of Auchineden, while immediutelj' in 
front, over a downward Bloping expanse of wild moorland, 
variegated by dumps of wood and fertile fields, Lochlomond 
is seen reposing in quiet beanty with its sleeping isles, and 
the mighty Ben lifts his proud crest to the sky over a stormy 
horizon of rugged peaks and ridgeo frowning in the distance. 
We now bid fhrewell to the highway, and by a rough field- 
path, bordered with heather, tormentil, and a rich profusion 
of desert vegetation, direct our steps t« the beautifully 
aituateil and elegant cottage of onr iriend the gamekeeper 
of John Wilson, Esq., of Auchineden. Our intrusion on 
the moor is fiercely reasted, however, by sundry ill-natured 
peeseweepa, which keep fljing round our head with their 
ihrill querulous cries, as if persuaded we have come to justify 
:be old boyish rbjnae, 

Nothing can be farther from our intention, however; and 
passing the wee trickling bum, fringed with the bloom of 
lady's-mantle, broom, and hyacinth, and through the plant- 
ing, where there is a weeping willow reared fi^m a sprig 
taken from Napoleon's grave at St. Helena, we soon arrived 
at the hospitable domicile, a neat little one-storeyed edifice, 
viith an outlook which a palace might well envy. A green 
and sunny spot — an oasis in the bleak waste — is in truth tlie 
H|k of Auchineden. The columbine blooms on the very 



Aooiatep, aod the "appleringy" almost peeps in at tliegabh 
window, while the swallow rears his young in the e»TM 
without fear of moleatfttion, and the wee hedge-Bparrow st 
on her blue egglets undisturbed within a few yards of th 
house-end. Such confidence betokens kindness of heart in 
tha inmates of the snowy biggin'. Yet mercy ia not 
unminglcd with stem Justice, Vermin of all kinds and 
degrees are here treated with well-merited rigour. The 
toad that plunders the ben-roost, the sleeky weazel, andlhs 
stoat — eggsuckers by habit and repute from time immemo- 
rial, — with the hoodie-craw, the hawk, and the owl — aU bbdi- 
of evil omen to the game, — are here sacrificed by ODF 
stalwart friend with the shortest poaablo sbrift. Look it^ 
these relii:s of tbe departed reivers nuled in terrorem o 
rafters of the kennel, and think what a salvation of in 
partridges and grouse has been effected by thdr destnictioaf , 
Of our kind reception in-doors we will not venture tc 
Suffice it to say that we have no occaaioa to regret " 
comforts of the Sautmarket," and that we shall not soow 
forget the plain good sense of our host, nor the forthj* 
frankness and welcome-beaming countenance of the gndev 
Immediately behind tbe cottage rise the bights, on 
opposite side of whieh the %Vliangie is situated ; and aitv- 
a reasonable period of rest, and a most unreasonabloi 
administration to tbe cravings of the inner man, we set • ' 
stout heart to a steep brae, and proceed on our pilgrimaga. 
Uur foot is now upon our nadve heather, and around U 
stretches a bleak moor, 

■■ WJiere peMwepM. plnvera, and wbsniH oj dre. 
end the tufted cannach waves its snowy crest among thtr 
diirk brown hags. Now we are startled by the whirr of I 
rising covey — now a mosscheeper goes fluttering and chirp-l 
ing from otu- path — and anon our attention is attracted bf. 
the beauty of some wilding fiower, "born to blush ni 
in the untrodden waste, yet fairer than the fairest bloomeni 
ot the gay parlorre. WUV Babert ^^co\^■^^■ 


ezdaim, while lingering over the lolttary dweUing-pliees of 
tiie peerless grass of PamasBiis, the purple orchis, and tho 
blaeberry bush with its red waxen bells, — 

** Beaatiftil ehOdren of the woods and fleldtl 

That bloom by momitatai stTeainletB toid tiie beather. 
Or into eloiten 'neath tbe taaxds gather— 
Or where by hoary roeka yoa nudce yoor Udda, 
And aweetty flonrfah on throufl^ aommer weathCT— 

Ere reaching the brow of the hill, ap which we haye been 
toiling, we cast n backward glanoe on the landscape we are 
leaving behind us. The straths of the Blane and the Allan- 
der are seen stretching far away, in all their garniture of 
woods and fields and swelling knolls, with lofty ridges of 
hills on either side, and the high grounds beyond our own 
city on the dim horizon. 1^ indeed a lovely Lowland 
scene. A few steps farther, however, and we have the High- 
lands before us. The crown of the eminence is passed, and 
the grandeur of flood and fell bursts upon our gaze. The 
transition is magnificent ; and the spectator, looking upon 
^ this picture and on that,*' is in truth at a loss to say which 
is the most attractive in its peculiar features of loveliness. 
Descending the farther side of the hill, we soon descry the 
gray storm-beaten rocks of the Whangie. On approaching 
the spot the first thing that strikes the visitor is an immense 
confused heap of jagged trap, piled against the hillside, and 
threatening in various places to topple over, while countless 
fragments of every size and shape are strewn about in the 
wildest irregularity, as if a congregation of demons had been, 
in some past epoch, engaged here in a diabolical stone- 
battle. On closer inspection, however, it is seen that a vast 
section of the hill has been by some means or other wrenched 
asunder, leaving a lengthened and deep chasm yawning 
along the line of separation, and that the shattered appear- 
ance of the external surface has been produced by tho 
violence of the convulsion which caused the ori^al disunion^ 
Entenng the narrow raVme) "we "^xq<i««^ ^a *^ ^<?kj^\ss^^ 



328 SEW sn.PATi{icK A*n> the irtiAjroiE. 

(Lb bowels of the Grm-fixed euth. The passage is tortDoi»~l 
and uneven, the projections of one side corresponding witli 
Angular csactness to the hoUows on the other. In nidUi the 
Whaagie, as this terrible fissure is called, varies from 2} to 
10 feet i its medium depth being about 40 feet, while its 
length is 346 feet. The external wall, if we maj' uae the 
term, is feBrfaUy fractored in several places, and on peeping 
through the crevices and beholding the apparently tottering 
masses overhanging the steep below, the spectator mvolun- 
tarily shrinks back as if his touch would send theu thuniler- 
tng down. Save a. atuoted rowan-tree or two, pn^eciing 
from the rilled summit of the chasm, the Whangie is Mt&lj 
devoid of sylvan adornment. There are a variety of wUd 
flowers and ferns, however, strewn over its lichened and 
hoary surfiice, among which we observe the wood-sorrcl 
and wood-rush both in bloom. Does the presence of th^e 
plants inihcate that trees at one period grew on the spoli' 
or have they been fostered by the genial shade produced by 
the impending clifis. Strange to say, tradition has preserved 
almost nothing in her budget regarding this remarkable pro- 
ducdon of nature. When the Highlanders were in the bsbit 
of ravaging the Lennox, it is said that cattle were occasioD- 
ally concealed in its recesses, for which purpose, however, tbty 
do not DOW seem very well adapted. It b also said, trsditiflo- 
ally, that after the overthrow of the Highlanders at Csl- 
loden, some of the proscribed Jacobites found shslcer frooi 
the bloodhounds of Cumberland in this solitary den. No' 
thing definite, however, is remembered of the event i soJ 
the Whangie, like Canning's knife-grioder — we bve a cdb- 
gruous comparison— has really "no tale to tell." 

On a green declivity below the rocky steep, and co^t^a«^ 
ing agreeably with its hoary front, there is a deUdoi" 
spring, cool in the noon of summer as the winter anoi. 
Lot us rest ourselves for a " blink " by its verdant margiOi 
and, while quaffing a bicker of its icy crystal, scan the pros- 
pect which seems spread for our special delucUition. J 


AiV^ In ^1 [he tcrrora Df luglo^,-™ """^ 

Hotv benutiiul la the lake, Imlf in sun and lialf in shadow, 
vitli its scattered islands and its guardian bills, tbc imnieDW 
«Oul-filliDg Bon, tidiest and proudest af tbe mountain brother- 
kood! Yon bold promoDtory marks the pass of Balmaba, 
UMciated vith memories of Hob Roy and Rigbload foray; 
tiiat white speck, begirt with miles uf forest, is Buchanan 
Banse, the seat of the Montrose dukodom ; and this conical 
bosk^ hill isDuncruin, a celebrated haunt of the green-coated 
iiuries ere the daylight of modem civihzation had driven than 
ibr ever away. Now 

It vould tnko a eumtner day, indeed, to read the wide 
landscape before us — to tell of the towns, the villages, the 
mansioos, and the "moors and mosses many, 0," that the 
eye at one orcling glance commands. It is a scene, in brief, 
to brood o»er rather than to describe ; so pulling forth our 
*^ pocket pistol " (we always carry arms), and borrowing the 
J dilution from the bonnie wee well at our feet, let 
L with all the honours and upstanding, devote one lipping 
p to the 

What a Btramosh that hearty hurrah bos kicked up among the 
peescweeps and plovers! There they go in myriads, whecft- 
wheeping, as if they had never heard a cheer at the Whangia 
wetl in the whole course of their lives. Yet many a merry 
Mene have these gray cliffs looked down upon. This is » 
bvourite rendezvous, be it known, of the moorland rangers, 
Vlhen, in the golden Aututun afternoons, their work of death 
mM over. Here the aun-broivncd sportsmim, with the pro- 


380 KEW KltrATniCK asd thb wdaxgir. 

doce of his gun and his wear}' canine eampanions, loves tn 
rest. Lnndseer would "gi'e his lugs" to witness the pic- 
toresquc groups thnt oft assemble here, while birils mi 
dogs and fn^ns are sUiimi in rich confusion round, and tha 
echoes of the old Whangie ring to the huntsman's ciie«i7 

But " one man cnn tether time or tide," and we must bs 
moving. We have still a long walk before us, and the ctouiia 
are beginning to look sour. That conical hill to the vMStr 
ward is Duncombe, and our intention a to place our fool 
upon its crest. There is no road, so we must make a rojii 
one for ourselves over the intervening moor, a distiuica of 
some three or fonr miles as the crow flies. Unfortunalel;'! 
M we are steering our way among the " mosses, slaps, moon, 
hags, and stiles," now leapbg some marshy tract from rush- 
tuft to stone, now tripping tightly ever some he&tli-clsii 
hillock, and an on pausing to calculate our Baltatory ponW 
on the edg<] of some yawning gnlly, in unmistakenble Suoldi 
mist envelops the landscape. Benlomond wraps himself up 
in his gray plaid, the loch, in sporting phraseology, is '■do- 
where," and even Buncombe b cloud-capt and frowning' 
How dreary, bleak, and gruesome the waste baa suddeal; 
become I The very flowers are hanging their little iicads M 
if in fear, while the cannachnods disconsolately to the posang 
blast, and the long grasses aro whispering together. Da» ' 
M night are the lonely tarns, and the whiteness of the H*' I 
bird's wing, as it flits athwart the inky water, but deeps'* J 
the universal gloom. Duncombe, it is too obvious, l 
tho present renioia unsealed. Were we to speel it no*( J 
instead of a prospect stretching from Ailsa and Goatfell V 
Tintoc, we should Lave our circle of vision " cabined, cribbe 
confined," to the diameter of an ellwand, with the obaaco*" 
breaking our neck as a reward for our temerity. Fiutit 
by the moat direct route, therefore, for Duntooher (aod U 
thing but a direct route in all eonsciunee we find it), * 
arrive, in somewhat more tban two hours from the ti 


e tbe Wbaagie, at thai village of cotton-mills and Roman 
Qtiquities. Fussing thence, wit&onC calling a, halt, to Uld 
Slpatrick, we get at once on board the " Eagle," a genuine 
Cljiie clipper, which Bpeedily gives us our diacharge at the 
"" ' ~ r, droukit to the skin, and, it must be admitted, 
■^Jirettj conaiderably " used up." 




Most beaotifal of tie months art tbou, O leafy Jnnel To 
welcome thee, tlie woods have donned their richest umbra- 
geous robes, the fields their freshest luxuriance of gre«it< 
Thy path ia over flowery meada, and by dear-gushinj J 
itreame, which mirror as they flow their mnny-tinted fiinpil 
of bloom. Thy genial winds are laden with the fragnutt 4 
of the bean and the sweet breathings of the opening row, 
In the depths of the far blue sky the lark, trom earlietl 
mom till eye's faint farewell blush, chnnta joyously to thee; 
while tbe sylvan choristers, in the "gloamin' o' the wood," 
i^oice with raptured notes of love thy ever-listeniog eir; 
and the low undersong of the bee where the wild thyne 
grows, makea musical for thee tbe very silence of Ihe saaaj 
braes. Now is the time to leave the noisomo haaota o! 

or to linger by some auld howlet-haunted biggin', and dresm 
of days gone by. Now is the time to steal, for a bnef 
apace, from the cark and care of city life, and to revel in 'li^ 
ineatimable luxury of nature's loveliness. One long golden 
day among the woods and fields — of aweet compttnionslup 
with birds and flowers and soothing winds — will do u^ 
more good, O gentle reader! both as a moral and plydw 
bang, than a whole eart-loaxi of musty tomes, or any posshw 
guantity of pills and potions. 

Take stafi' in hand, tAierrfoie, wniNit ^Twro-isd, Cjr WW 
to come witb va aa oui "joOT'na^ o'i a. ia-i;' \'>.Ni^_ 



r^; but tlie sun, who at this season tiikes only a britit 
nap," has got his honeat face ubave the level of the house- 
p opposite, where a merry band of sparrows are engaged 

a dinsome matutinal row. Steering our course towarda 
a north-west suburb of the city— now pasarg a milkman 
gaged with a tittering bevy of servant girls; now a baker'a 
y, powdered from top to toe and tottering midcr an enor- 
lus superincumbent weight of rolls ; now an unkempt 
usemaid on her bnees lustily scrubbing the door-ateps; 
d anon a drowsy-looking artisan proceeding pipe-in-moath 
bis labour, and leaving an odorous trail behind in the raw 
iming air — we soon find ourselves beyond the region of 
«et9, amidst gurdeus and Gelds, breathing the untainted 
Maryhtl! and Garscube being soon left behind, we 
•edily arrive at Canniesbum, where our ramble, properly 
iakinp, may be said to commence. The road, as we have 
BTiously remm'ked, diverges into two branches at this 
int ; the one to the lefb leading to iieyr Kilpatrick, &c , 
e other, which we now pursue, to Milugavie, or " Hillguy," 

in popular and more euphonious parlance it is generally 
nominated. A sliort distance to the north-east of Can- 
Qsbum — which we leave by a pleasant path between ver- 
jit hedgerows, with finely undulating fields on either side, 
id with a luxuriant mantle of waving grain, over which 
e winds are playing in wavy streams — is Ferguston, a com- 
rlable farm- steading, where the line of the Koman wall 
asses the highway. Wherever the plough has passed, all 
aces of this anuent structure arc, of course, obliterated; 
it on a rising ground in the immediate neighbourhood, a 
Kp indentation, a remnant of the fosse, is still diaCbctly 
Bible. Gordon, in bis Itinerarium Scptrioiiale, makes 
>ecial mention of this interesting footprint of the haughty 
inqucror; and we may mention, for the edification of our 
nUquarian friends, that it remains as nearly es may be in 
Maame condition as when that zealous loiti of Aii*a.W<ja 
Kd tie locality. To the unimdaui e-j>i,'vQaRJi&,">».>Ma 

S84 luutOAt'iE i 

the appearance of a mere Dstural hollow or dltcb, covered 
irith a snard aimilar to that on the odjoiDUig ground; the 
(nighty Btrncture which the legions of imperial Borne took 
upwards of a century to erect having been ao compleldj 
prostrated by time and the elements, that, unless to the Ijni- 
eycd antiquary, not even a wrack remaba. Passing on, «fl 
have the fine woods of Kilmardinny to the Icil, embowering 
in their wide -stretching shades the handsome mansion of 
the same name, and a lovely little loehlet, some eight actei 
in extent, begirt with trees, shrubs, and llowere, and 
abounding in pike, eel, and perch, for the votary of tl 
" gentle art." The pleaanre grounds of Kilmardinny are ( 
very con^derable extent, and embrace nunierouB features < 
nahnral and artificial beauty. Avfay to the right, agiun, B 
tlie spadous policies of Dougalstone, rieblj timbered, ai 
adorned with a loch which covers an expanse of tweat 
three S<;ota acres, and abounds in water-planta, some 
wbich are rare, and in Tarioas kinds of fi^h. The estate 
Dougalstone belonged at an early period to a branch of ti 
Uontrose family. About the middle of the last centuiy, 
passed into the bands of Mr. John Gla°Bford, a merchi 
prince of our own good city, and one who was pre-eminenl 
distiiigaished in " his day and generation," by the 
of an enlarged and liberal mind, associated with practia 
shrowdnesa and the most active business habits. Smollett, 
hia humorous novel o£ Hunipkrei] Clinker, makes honoi 
4nention of Mr. Glassford. In that delightful work 
assumed writer says, "I conversed also with Jlr. G — ssf- 
whom I take to be one of the greatest merchants 
In the hist nar he is said to have had at one time five-aii 
twenty ships with their cargoes — his own property — and 
have traded for above half- a- million sterling a-year." ll 
Glassford, who died in 1783, expended large anniB on fl 
adornment of the Dougalstone property, which stilt retull 
in its extensive plantations and shadowy walks, abundant Q 
(iences of his taste for tlie beaM\.i6ii- 0!\q.'ui-5i 




tlie locality has worn an aspect of neglect and waste, sug- 
gestiye of an alteration for the worse in the fortones of the 

The village of Milngavie, which we now reach, has an 
irregular and somewhat straggling appearance. The hooses 
are for the most part plain tyro-storeyed edifices, in many 
instances tastefully whitewashed, and consequently wearing 
an agreeable air of tidiness and comfort. In and around 
the village, on the banks of the Allander, are a number of 
public works, the most extensive of which are the calico- 
printing and cotton-spinning establishments of Messrs. John 
Black & Co., in which a considerable portion of the popula- 
tion, both adult and juvenile, are employed. The locality 
altogether, although not by any means particularly attractive 
in what may be called its pictorial aspect, has a cheerful and 
prosperous appearance. The spirit and prosperity of Miln- 
gavie, indeed, are abundantly evinced by the number of 
respectable looking shops which it contains in proportion to 
its size, and also by the fact that it now supports a line of 
stage-coaches, plying hourly to and from Glasgow. There 
are two places of worship in the village, one in connection 
with the Established Church, and the other a United 
Presbyterian meeting-house. The Free Kirk has also, we 
understand, a considerable number of adherents among the 
population; and a still larger proportion are Irish Roman 
Catholics : the former, we were informed, generally attend 
the ministrations of the Free Church clerg3rman at Balder- 
nock, while the latter have their spiritual wants supplied in 
the Chapel at Duntocher. Nor are the educational require- 
ments of the rising generation unprovided for, as several 
excellent seminaries sufficiently demonstrate ; while, as is 
the case in most of our manufacturing villages, a public 
library has been instituted, to satisfy the intellectual cravings 
of the more enlightened portion of the adult inhabitants. 

Leaving Milngavie, after a stay of brief duration, we now 
proceed, in a north-westerly &eel\OTi^ Vorw^st^^ 'Ooftk ^3iR^sss^» 



Castle of Mugdock. which b eitaated on an elevated spot 
about two miles from the villnge. It is now ite highett 
noon of summer, and the ever-varj-in}; Inndacape is bathed 
in warmest radiance, sa 


jreepj out OHM the o»g» 

The wayside is a lengthened atndj of floral beatit]', with 
it» Bweet-scented borders steeped in richest poetry. Tie 
wild rose b there, reminding ua of Buma's odorous compariioQ 
for dear duluding woman, — 

A perpetual feast of nectared aweeta, indeed, has the ro* 
ever been to the rhyming race ; and whether the beloTed 
cheek is with mantling blushes tinged, or whether in aorrow 
it has waxed "fair, not pale," doubt not that the rose, in 
some one of its varied aspects, will fail to fiimiBh the bard 
with an appropriate emblem. But hark, the boom of the 
pasi^ng heel We eonld almost fancy he is chanting astiatdi 
from glorious Will. " I know a hank where the wild thjme 
grows," aeems the burden of his lay, and behold the belted 
minstrel has waxed voiceless in the honeyed crimson. A ft" 
steps onward the stately foxglove, with her purple crest of 
" deid man's bells," nods to the gratefiil breeze that winnowJ, 
as with viewless wiiiga, onr glowing brow. The speedwdl), 
too, with their bright blue eyes, are peeping at us from ito 
mossy knolls as we pass ; while the silver-wead, the bird'!- 
foot-trefoil, the tonoentil, and the bonny broom wilh ia 
yellow tassela — woeda of glorious feature all — are strewn u 
brightest profusion over every banic and brae. JVulji 
indeed, has the poet sold — 

and amoDg them all there is not a sweeter than the bonms 
blue apcedneU, which we thus addrese In the fullness of C 
affection, — 


Oil. I tore Oh lltcls Specdndl 
Ana gllnu abwin tla rrnh groon 
BrlBhlM^ bonnii. InOm"-! e'a 

Hifl bTDom iDftv boalc wL' flowden bu 
The thorn vV fnt^uit enaw, 

erpei^ &I 

fiW clme hid dlmtned Uicsiplk i>f Hd[io 

IrnlDd IhojTUB^ of pnreHIJoy 
LoDe peeping down tAfl dflU. 

'nia vayUde weo SpeedweU 

STow we are on tbe lee side of a wood, and witlkmg ai 
nenng sliadows. How delicious the sbade of the over- 
ppng boughs, whicli spread their leafy anna, as if in love, 
&om the almoat vertical radiance of the lord 

inilulge tor a blink among tbo gr 

"Do jou believe in furies, Mac?" said Allan C 
faaiD on one occasioD to a Celtic friend of ours. "L 
no ferry shure," waa the ubaracteraticallj- cautious 
tLe mountaineer; "but do you pelteve in tliem your 
Mr. Kinnikum?" "I once did," said the burly poet 
I would to God that I could still, for tlio woodland 
moor have lost for me a. great portion of their romai 
iny faith in their e^tiatence has departed." He tber 
Campbdl's beautiful lines, — 

"Whoa SclencBfromOreallonl&ee ^m 

Enobsntmeiil'i veil wltharaw^ ^H 

WJiiLt lovely vlslona Ibm glTB flan ^M 

It is well for us that we were bom in an age or^| 
Inetitutions, and of isms and ologiea "in number I 
less," or wc should assuredly have committed an unc 
perjury by swearing that we heard the rustle of 
gown on awakening from our mJdBuramer day's dre 
that we obtained a glance of a ruaby cap disaj 
among the broom I But we know better now-a-d 
grring our head k philowphieat shake, and oar 


BriKht n 

■Ming [InginH iklu a' btoe. 
ThB Wilt msT Aon htr SlrtlB grteo, 

And gliinr^ngw»vM of TemuTB plaj 

Alans Uk rDnwd Ivn; 
ThuSroom nnyhaali wl'KCnrdeolma^ 

Thfl tbom w1' fngnDt anaw, 

UndlmiD'd amuig Uibid a'. 

Tot I Klinn ot]oy I'to liui (oT Ihei'. 
ThoD posrica Mao SpoBdnoll. 

yihwt bj ft UrTlnff Laother'B knee, 

Id AtUomgro 01 tho pABl^ 
&er tlfooliwldlmDiBa tbflSTnllB of Uo[ 

'KeaEli fiomw'i trtthertB It bluE, 

Tbe WBTiiac wee SpeedwelL 

rSToTT we are on tlie lee side of a wood, and waiting a^.^";; 

^ng flhadowB. How delicious tbe shade of the over- 
g boughs, which spread their leaf)' arms, as if in love. 
a from the almost vertical radiance of the lord 





gardens established there by the British Government. 
Shortly after hiB an-ival oat, however, he was stozed with 
Badden illness and died, to the deep regret of all nho knen 
lum, or could appreciate the value of his services in the 
cause of science. Probably the nuphar pamila 13 still tn 
existence about the loch, although in our cursory exami- 
nation we cannot discover its whereabout. We should like 
to have eeen it retaining its place as a memento of the poor 
young martyr of Flora, whose reraiuns are now mouldamig 
tax away in the land of the stranger. 

At the south-west end of the loch, towering above s 
terraced bank, which is adorned with a neat series of dower- 
beds, is the time-worn Castle of Mugdock, towards which "u 
now wend our way. That portion of the edifice which fronts 
the water having been fitted up as a modem residence, hu n 
&eah and apparently youthful appearance ; but immediately 
behind this rises a stalwart quadrangdar tower, lichened anil 
gray, bearing undoubted endccicp of Batiquity in its tiAmw 
windows and loopholes, while numerous architectural remaiitf 
in various stages of decay are scattered around. This lofdlj 
atruoture, majestic even in its desolation, has obviously been 
the work of several generations. Certain portions of it ire 
unquestionably of great age, while others are as dearly of 
comparatively recent origin. Having made our enlT^e bf 1 
spacious gateway into the interior court, and reeeived » 
courteous sanction to our inspection of the ruins, we roam 
about at will, poking our head into every av^htble nook and 
cranny, and peopling with the creationsof fancy the deserted 
chambers of the past. * Ifovrwo stand musing In a vault of 
gloom over the captive's woes; now we are stooping at ta 
arched doorway, wondering at the thickness of the waU'l 
again we are threading the mazes of a narrow staircase, or 
pacing the lonely hall, where the swallow has taken up 01 
abode and the wimls are free to play; and anon we lings'' 
to gaze from the window of the tower on the wide-Bpre*! 
and lovely landncape below. Overlooking a steep bank 00 



plalforni, acd at a, short distance to the north of 
the caatle, are the ruins of a small chapel, now rootless and 
desolate in the extreme. The nalb are rent and shattered, 
while the rank weeds are waving on the floor and trailing 
over the prostrate stones where once the altar stood. 

^H AfiJIheniRlilbrFeEs, wbiiUIngmnnrnfUtly, 

^^~ Creep! keen and dqWIj IhrauKh." 

Ore of the most beaotiful features of Mugdock is its stately 
"girdle of lull ancestral trees." Overshadowing the little 
mouldering chapel ore Eeverol of the most handsome speci- 
meDH of the ash which we have ever witnessed. They are 
indeed sylvun giants of loftiest stature and goodliest propor- 
tion. Evelyn or Gilpin would willingly, we doubt not, have 
made a lengthened pilgrimiige for the eole purpose of doing 
homage to such " raonarchs of the wood." There are also 
many fine oaks and elms around the spot ; and ou the line 
of the carriage way there is a luxuriant avenue of "green- 
robed senators," through the dense umbrageousness of which 
even the vertical radiance of noon sends with difficulty but 
a few golden beams to iret the sweet mid-day gloaming. 

The Castle of Mugdock was for many ages a favouri4e 
reeidence of the " gallant Grahams" of Montrose, a family 
whose name is honourably distinguished in the hiiitory of 
our country, but regarding whose memor}', as associated 
with this their ancient dwelling-place, tradition is all but 
silent. Not a legend or a ballad of the olden time have 
we been able to discover concerning Mugdock. ^\Tien 
an extraordinary or improbable story is told to the neigh- 
bouring peasantry, they generally give expression to their 
iacredulity by the somewhat unintelligible exclamation 
of " Mugdock Castle 'a no a, pyot's nest yet!" and this, so 
Bit ta we are aware, is the only manner iu which this home 


of a dutral race is mentioned in popular parlance. Hoir di: 
ferent is it with our old Higbtand or Border beeps, c 
of which almost has its legend or ita lajl Frgm biatotj, 
tiao, Tte learn but little conceroing Mugdock. Almost the 
only events recorded of it are, Ibnt the castle and baron; 
were acquired from Maldwjn, Earl gf Iiounos, in 
of Alexooder the Second, by David de Grahanie, incxchangs 
for certain lands in Gallowny, and ibat it become, oo 
burning of Kincardine Castle, in 164G, the priaupal n 
dcnce of the Montrose family. After the reatoralion, in 
1686, and during the heat of the persecution In Scotland, 
Mugdock was visited by the Earla of Rothes and Middlettm, 
with a number of their associates in the work of spiritDil 
tyrann; ; and it is stated that sad scenes of revelry and bu- 
chanalion license occurred on the occasion. A wild a 
we doubt not, in their orgies they were ; and it may well bo 
Boppased that the Covenanters of the neighbourhood irould 
watch with silent horror the lighted windows of the to»ff 
wherein the foes of their civil and religious freedom w 
congregated in the madness of drunken merriment. While 
lingering in the hall of the time-stained ediSce, and endeat- 
ouring to realize to our " mind's eye" the picture which it 
may have then presented, we find our musiDgs almost uncon- 
sciously assuming the form of the following rude bnllwl 
strain, which we fancy would, could, or should have bwn 
written by some Btem miustrel of the Covenant, and tbe 
shortijomings of wliich will, we fondly hope, induce some 
more accomplished bard to twine a worthier wreath of wng 
in honour of this most beautiful yet altogether eoDglesi 
locality : — 

WA*t mtui ion Ueht In Mund»k lawar, 

Wbilt iilnDock uid Inophole iini&' 
Leti wt In KiMrden t3i%Rt that ttel 

Ubk mlddeht'a nyeo na'? 

a thgdukolnd'aEustTWlnEf 

. whj awMDi tht MchlE* honlsl ftrth, 

I tll> Itolt, loud liacburi ilDgl 


To Ihe eruln' «lBrs ibwn. 

For deeOt that his gude anord has dooo. 
But tholrnuiti o' Scotland ore imesti here ths slcht, 

StMpIt In the gme n' Ihg enld and 

And Brace a' the EarlahB'. nha ah 

O'lbasidov ud tUe orphaii't p 

Dnt Iba miclt HDD. I tnmr, 0- (11 
CliDKi unia u tbo taoj round 

aalr-crashed CatgOl 
e-Er deput 




The booting o'lheon 
Oi the »ratlh-bodJ 

I'd nther bide tnhu 
TUu Itae perHcuIu 


ar BlowrlD' mine, 

Thm hie (hee awe' tl 
Nor Kelt tlKU the b 

Keith the rooftieo 

rengh the 

I'liass-Jiemlll power, 

Oh ! iKhir Uj ihy Itfd In Hie 

Than hiuikcr [ir itieHlno-cu)a 
When the«;n,u'i.e«v« 

htthle. _ ^ ^ 



There is an echo of considerable local celebrity at Mug- 
dock, Iha reverberaiive powers of which are frequent! j pal 
to the test bj I'lEitors, The spot from which the echo a 
most distinctly heard is a sligbtlj projecting rock, o 
verduDt deelivity, about a hundred yarUa to the south of tbt I 
caatle. A person standing on this, looking tovurds thtl 
edifice, and speaking pretty loudly, Kill bear his words, cfV 
even short sentences uttered by bim, repented iritb startling H 
distinctness, as if from some mimic at the old ti 
course, we give the echo sundry specimens of our voca%, 
and to ita eredit we must suy that it ffmgs them backwi 
amazing fidelity. Paddy Blake's echo, which, 
question being put to it of "How are you?" in^ 
answered "Pretty well, I thank 3'ou I" was unnusCakeablf (^ 
native of the land of Bulls. The Mugdock one id 

deddcdly Scottish, as it t 
aaking another. If ther 
however, we might ineni 
that it ia quite au fait 
entire satisfaction of a ca 
in silence for some time I 

swcrs each question put to it bj 
were any doubt on this subjecl, 
in, in support of our suppositiDD, 
; the Gaelic, as we proved to the 
nie bystander, who, after listening 
our Diutual interrogations in that 
classic tongue, at length exclaimed, " Od, man, thaft-| 
curious! wha wad hae thoeht that a Lawlan' echo eoold hi 
jabbered Gaelic? " 

From the vicinity of the eaatle a variety of beautiC 
prospects of the surrounding country are obtMneil, 1 
reatLly be believed when we mention that, from one s] 
atone, the eye embraces a range of scenery extending fi 
lienlomond to Tintoc. There are also some delightful ei 
woods in the immediate netgbbourhood, through which 0^ 
could stroll about deliciously for daya ; while the i 
watered Allander, a short distance to the west, winds tbronfj 
a sweet vale, presenting a most inviting aspect to ti 
disciples of old Izaak, But we have no time to throw ftlS 
to-day, although we observe with envy the rieb bron 
trout, with their freckles of bun\it led, ■tvim^.WaiLijArectioii 

NiLKGAViE anh stuathblanh. Sib 

Ygn lazj beroa, now standiug moCionliisa as a. atone, and 
anon, as we pass, flapping his drowKy flight along the streiim, 
knona right well where the speckled prey abounds, uid 
douhtlesa finds this Beduilcd epot a highly fikvourable aitua- 
lioo for his piscatory operations. 

Making our way hock to the rond, we now proceed in a 
northerly direution towards the valley of the Blane, which, 
ifler passing the richly tlmhercd policies o( Craigends 
Cutle, a modem erection in the feu<!id etylo, burtita upon 
our gaze in all its quiet loTelinogs. The straths of the 
AUaader and the Blano, ^vided hy the Crai^allian Braes, 
lie almost parallel to each other, while the two streams flow 
in opposite diroctiona. The former having its source among 
the Eilpatrick Llills, and flowing in a south-east direction, 
nltimately joins the Kelvin; while the latter, a "hlgh-bom 
Btream," has its origin in the Earl's Seat, and alter a 
moorland course of three or four miles, comes leapbg down 
tbe ravine of Baliagan, from whcnue, by a winding north- 
west course, it floirs into the channel of the Endrick, through 
(rhich itj waters are Rnally conveyed into the fair bosom of 
Lochlomond. The " Spout of Ballagan," as the cascade is 
called which is formed hy the Blooe in its passage from the 
summit of the Campsie fells to the valley below, is situated 
a short distance to the south-east of the village of Stralh- 
blans, and forma, with ita acoesaories of rock and wood, a 
scune of the most wild and romantic beauty. When the 
ttream ia swollen with rain, the fait, which is altogether 
about seventy feet in height, presents a magnificent spectacle, 
U the water tumbles in foam into tbe rifted and rocky gorge 
beneath, with a voice of thunder, as if it were astounded at 
iti own temerity. At this season, of course, from the 
oonpniatively muugre supply of water, it is seen to disad- 
tlctage, while its wild music is pitched on a much lower 
key. To compensate for this aqueous deficiency, however, 
the vegetation around is now most profuse and lovely, while 
ftHw viutor who is not overly aeuaitive can ascend in the 

1140 liri-XGAVIK ANP STnATnUl-ANB. 

rug^d channel to (lie Turv bottom of the cascade. To lie 
geoloj^iBt tlie section of the Campsie range exposed at lliu 
point preaentB a study of reEttl;tr end nearly horiionuJ 
stratification of the mciEt interesting nature. This 
which must he about 1,0U0 feet in depth, exhibits, acconlin^ 
to certain authoritie)', about 230 beds of alternate sandstcmci 
limestone, and argllaceous deposits, ranging in thicknra 
from one or two inches to ten fact, llie various strata uc 
in a continual state of disintegrntion. Portions are detached 
duly, while the immense heaps of debris lying below, heir 
witness to tha rapidify with which the elements are gradasUj 
eating; into " the everlasting hills." A short disti 
the fall, but withb sight and hearing of it, the old Earls it 
Lennox bad in former ages a castle, which has do* 
disnppearcd, leaving not even a wrack behind. AhaudsoiH 

modem edifice, however, the seat of Grahi 

of Ballagan, occupies a prominent position in this 
Bbaliry, of which it commands a variety of delightful viewi 

Proceeding down the Strath of the Blane the prospsll'i 
before us is of the mosl beautiful and varied descripdoKi.. 
On our right hand is the lofty range of the Campsie BiOf-i 
fretted with their terraces of trap, and terminating ii 
bold heads of Dungoyno and Dunfoyne ; while the 
undulations of the Craigallian table-land rise in their syln 
loveliness on the left, with the wooded peak of Dungoiach 
the background. In the sheltered boson of the valley, 
the same time, and on its finely swelling sides, are seen set 
tered the stately mansions, gu't with trees, of the 
the comfortable steadings of the &rmera ; the village n 
its handsome Gothic church and tidy-looking cottages; ai 
though last not least, the printworks and bleachGelda, « 
their industrial associations and (as if harmonizing with! 
■cenery around) their half-rural aspect. Altogether 
should imagine, to take a slight liberty with Tom Moqfb, 



and we can assure the pilgrim of the beautiful who may 
turn his steps thitherward, that bis e.ipectations must be 
high indeed if he does not find them excci^dedhy the reulity. 
Passiiiir through the straggling and exceedingly irregntar 
village, which presents few fu'atures calling for special remark, 
we turn to the left, by it road leading in a westerly direction, 
towards the highway between tilasgow and Drj'men, which 
it joins at Carbeth. A little farther down the vale of tht> 
Bkne than this point stands the ancient Coatle of Duntreath, 
ui extensive and interesting edifice of the olden time. This 
ii a seat of the Edmonstones, a family which boasts an in- 
fiision of royal blood. We beg leave to borrow the loUow- 
ingbrief description of it from the pen of theporieh minister; 
— "The castle is approached from the west through a de- 
tached gatehouse, and is rather of a rude construction, built 
round 8 quadrangle. The north and east aides are com- 
pletely in ruins, having been unroofed and lell to dec^ 
KboQt a century ago. Id the former of these sides is tSe 
diapel, of which, according to tradition, the gallery once 
gave way during the service, and several persons were in- 
jored. The southern front wna never finished. In the sonth- 
easlem part of it is the ' Dumb Laird's Tower.' The castle 
is surrounded by a park or policy of moderate extent, but 
rery agreeably varied, and the scenery of the whole unites 
cultivation and romantic beauty in no common degree." 

AboDt midway between the little bridge along which the 
road we have alluded to crosses the Blanc and Carbeth, tha 
table-land of CruigalHnn comes to an abrupt termination in 
a precipitous and wooiled promontory, which is locally de- 
nominated " the Pillar Craig." Under the guidance of our 
Uend, Mr BInckwood of (he Crnigton bleachfield, who, in 
company with a couple of esteemed Glasgow friends we for- 
tonately discover in the vicinity, we now take leave of the 
beaten path, and atonte plunge into the "woods and wilds" 
of Craigallian. "The Pillar Craig" is so called from a 

|blignilii:ent range of busattic columns with which the summll 



is crowned. These we imtne^liatelr ptwieed to inspect, xAm 
afler gcrnnibling nitli some difficultj, and occasioiii>11;i * 
are afniid, in rather un^n'oceful attitudea, up the ru^e^l 
acctinty, we are certaiolj abundnntl^ rewarded for evfl 
paina by the spectacle which they present tt 
the reader imagine a steep precipice, thirty or perhaps la 
feet in height, composed of iniineiise columns of baa 
hexagonal, octagonal, and quadrangular forms, and re 
in outline m if they had been the work of the chisel t 
than the produce of a matorial iawl Moat of these at 
of coume in iirin jaxtaposidon with each olher, but in ven' I 
OQJ instances the pillara stand erect and almost isolated: 
while one broken column has fallen from its oiiginal posi- 
tion, and projects perpendicular!}- to a, height of tour or five 
feet from the debris below, just as if it had been ereew^ 
by an antediluvian sculptor to the memory of some diatlii- 
gmahed individual among the " world's gray fathers." This 
ponderoDB fragment is an octagon, judging by the CTe, ol 
about three feet in diameter. Strange to say, this interest- 
ing gmlogical formation seems to havi? been entirely ot«t- 
looked by local students of the sermons which are found 
in stones. At all events we have seen no notice of it in our 
somewhat discursive readings, nor has any indindual wilii 
whom we have conversed on the subject ever heard it men- 
tioned. We therefore consider that we are fully jiutified ia 
commending the locality to the attention of our philosopfaii 
Htone-knappers as a virgin field for thuir futiu% investjgati 

Clambering to the woody brow of the eminence, » 
commands to the northward an extensive and finely vsrilH 
prospect of the broad range of country sloping pcturesqua 
down to Lochlomond^a glimpse only of which is obtaia 

however, as the huge Ben almost completely at 

view — and to the east displays the sweet sheltered stratbll 

the Blane ii-om Ballagan to Bungoyne, with the t 
Lennox range beyond, — we now turn onr face soathwi 

aad proceed along the tldge of Ciai^ifflvMiwi b-Whuw* 

lOILKaAVIE AKD bthatholane. 1149 

direction. The estate over which we are now trcadirg a 
derioiu Bad truly delightful course is the property of Mr 
Graham of Fereacze. A considerable portion of its sarface 
u ooTered with broad belts and clumps of treea ; while the 
interreoing spaces consist principally of green pastare-land 
and white tracts of moor. The whole loi^ality, indeed, has a 
wild, solitary, and sylvan character — a kind of "Forest of 
Ardeo" aspect; while nooks and g1a,des meet the eye at 
eTBiy turn wherein one could fancy the banished Dnke 
niigbt have held bis court, or the melancholy Jaques have 
fitly lingered to muse on the vanity of all that the busy 
world IB proud of. Now we are crossing the spongy snrface 
of a marsh, where the breeze is plajing with the white faiiy 
peBDoos of the cannach, while it hears along the rich fra- 
grance of the bog-myrtle, or sweet gale ; now we are passing 
a ruined cottage, where the long rank nettles are nodding 
drearily to each other round the cold hearthstone, and the 
old ash tree overbanging the shattered iriiUs, eeeois to mil 
over departed joys ; and anon we are threading the stream- 
like meanderings of an old field-path, athwart which the 
grass and the weeds are creejilng unchecked, while the rose- 
biuhes on dther tide seem extending their blushing bougba 
U irtbey would meet in odorous embrace. At length, after 
passing through a shadowy wood, with a dense green canopy 
nerhead and a floor of feathery brackens and tall graofes 

I It^w, we come in sight of CriugaUJan Loch, lying smooth 
•sd silent in a sheltered hollow to the west of the high 
gronnd over which, for the last hour, we have been wander- 
ing. This beautiful sheet of water is about forty acres in 
axUat. From the undulating and romantic character of the 
ground in its vicinity, Craigallion I.och presents many charmB 
to ths lover of landscape beauty ; while the botanist will find 
iti vegetation well worthy of a scrutinizing inspection. It 
Kbounds also in fish ; and our friend Mr Blackwood, who has 
the privilege of lashmg its waters, speaks enthusiastiiuU/ 

B jf the number and quality of its finny inhabitants. ^^^^^ 



At B short distance to the soutb-ca^t of the locb ia 
tlie house of Cniigaliiun, a small snd plain edifice, bejirm| I 
the date 1704. It Is dow inhabited by a farmer bdiI bii I 
bauschold, and has rather a dreary and crest-fHllen appeu- 
unco. The garden iind neighbouring grounds, which lun 
evidently at one period been arranged in a toatefiil sad 
orderly style, are now apparently permitted in a gr»i 
measure to "hing as they grow." There is an air of Iht 
old elegance sdll clinging about the spot, howerer: nUla 
the luxuriance of the garden, in which we observe a 
hoUy thickly studded with its red berries, and the atalelinM 
of the timber in its vicinity, among which ia a gigantic ysw! 
indicates plmnly enough that " it has seen better days." 

Paaaing onward we soon arrive on the banks of tlfl 
Allander, which we cross by a picturesque old bridge, ini 
by a westerly route over the Beldij, in a short time reub 
the locale of Mr. Blaokwood, at Crnigton. The bleaohfid4> 
here ia finely situated on the banks of a little rivulet, a 
contuins all the means and appliances n3ce8sary to Ihe pTO^ 
duction ofanow-white yarns, hichiding, of course, a 
bevy of active and blooming girls. The study of chenucdl 
or womankind is unfortunately not oui/urli, however, — al 
leaving the study of these abtsruse matters to a sclenlii 
widower who forms one of our company, we proceed t 
gratily our Oldbucklan propenuty for time- honoured biggid 
by an inspectionof the venerable mauMon of Crdgton, whii 
is in the immediate neighbourhood. This edifice ta of coi 
aiilerable extent, but is unpretending in its style of archito 
tiire, and presents but few features calling for special remar 
Above the principal doorway there is a carved stone b 
a dilnpidated coat of arms, in which the only objects we a 
distinctly decipher are a pair of hands clasped, and a sti 
with the date 1635. The house is now inhabited by aeveii 
of the operatives engaged in the bleachfield and their famQiaC 
It is still in a good state of repair, and seems to be kept bj 
/W present occopimts in a dean, ani oticA^ vj " ' " 


nit be admitted, however, that it has a aomcwliat discon- 

lata appcarnnoe, as if it were consciona withal that ita 

r glory had departed. Opposite the western front of 

e edifice there is a magnificent avenue, formed by two 

aly double rows of trees, the area of which we should 

3 bo about thirty yards in width, and nearly one- 

^tb of n mile in length. The inner rows on either side 

« composed of tall limes, the foliage of which extends to 

1 a few feet of the ground, forming as it were two 

■pact lateral walls of green. The external rows are 

mposed of beeches, the majority of which ara of gigantic 

proportions. The general elfect, indeed, of this handsome 

approach is splendid in the extreme, and albeit a little 

wayvom, ne cannot resist, in our admiration, promenading 

it to and fro for a considerable time. 

A warm welcome and abundance of good cheer await our 
scceptanue in the neat little domicile of our friend of the 
Ct^ton field, to which we now proceed. Al^er a delicioiu 
interral of rest and refreshment, our host's vehicle ia brought 
to the door, in which, the pony being a crack roadster, we 
n a surprisingly brief space of time conveyed along the 
^fiiymen road, by Canniesbum and Maryhill, and safely 
nithin sound of auld Sanct Mungo's bells. 


Ou) father Time has passed the mcridiaD of another ;M 
and is again eteeiiug a downhill course towards the g 
eeasoo orfniitfulness and railing leaves. The time ofsngil 
birds is almost past, and the voice of the turtle li 
in the land. The flowers of spring and early sum 
bloomed and nodded their little hours upon the stage, I 
now are seen no more. Wo hove the rose by ereiy • 
side, the water-lily and the sedge by lochs and streams, tb 1 
pansy and the wild thyme on bank and brae; but |lu 
primrose, the craw-flower, and their sweet sisters of tl» 
youthful year, where are they? With the gentle PerJito, 
in Shakspeare's Wiater^s Tale, we could exclaim,— 

ThU die umouTled. em they can beliald 
Bji^C PhsbDj In bla BtrensttL" 

We have a special love indeed for the thin-strewn blossoms 
of spring. Things of beauty are they one and all, as liii'? 
open amidst the smiles and tears of the opening seufoD, ea^ 
aivm starlet and golden chalice redolent of love, and hopCi 
and joy. But aks I even as it is with all that man is pronil 
of, they come like shadows, so depart, — 

: admiration of tha ^ost, however, let 
ratefiil for tbe ^Aesam^ o^ *ie -^tcwnA. Tws 



Tow clnd with beauty as with a garment. Ten tlitmsand 
radiant blooms are at this moment spreading their deny 
petals of varied hue io the rajB of jon rising sun, nhict 
invites us from our city home, to wander forth again amosg 
the riutling fields and shadowy woods. Let us be up then 
«nd jogging. Our good oaten staff— itself the gift of a 
genuine "heart uf oak," and our faithful Fompanion in 
many a devious esenrsion — seems, as if instinct with life, to 
leap into our grasp. After a few minutes' walk, we find 
Ouraelves passing Port-Dundas, " the harbour on the hill," 
and emerging to the tiorthw:ird from the urban labyrinth by 
the Possil Road. The morning air is clear and cool, but 
the ctondless sky above gives abunciant indicadon that a 
melting day is before us. A gentle breeze, however, is 
playing over the spiky fielils of wheat, and rustling with a 
whisper soiler even than that of lovers on a moonlit bank, 
among the graceful panniclee of the oat and the silky awns 
of the bearded here. The walk from the city in thia 
direction is exceedingly pleasant. About a mile out we 
pass Fossil House, the residence of our reapected Bheriff, Sir 
Archibald Alison, Bart., the learned hiatorinn of Europe, 
and the accomplished essayist and critic o{ Blackicood. The 
house is a large and substantial but withal plain edifice, and 
is surrounded by finely timbered policies of considerable 
extent. The locality, although within such a short distance 
of the city, has a qaiet and retired aifpect, and seems 
pecnliHrly adapted for the indulgence of those literary tastes 
in whioh the worthy Baronet linds his principal solace 
during the intervals of professional business. 

After skirting the enclosures of Fossil, the road gradually 
ascends, t-hrough a stretch of fertile and well -cultivated 
)ind, covered with luxuriant crops, to the gentle eminenue 
□f Hill-end, which commands a most magnificent and far- 
extended prospvct to the northward. On the summit of 
ttib ridge we call a halt, of course, and do tom*^ \b "*«- 
Bto&em of the scene. Spread ^iefoie i^ift ss^bkXslV.** ^*»- 





i* [be noble territiiry of t'>e Lennox, with iu noods and 
fields, and BofUy-sweUing onduIationE, bonnded i 
«Ktreme diatance by the gray mountains of the Gael, anJ 
un either tide by the KQpatrick and Canipse hilla. 

Proceeding down a pleasant and gently eloping coaree for 
a short distance, we soon arrive at Lambhitl, on 
of the Forth and Clyde Canal. There is a dclighlfal walk, 
n{ about a mile and a-half in length, west Irom this point In 
Maryhili, along the banks of the canal, which here paau 
amid scenes of considerftble beauty. Our present rooto, 
however, lies in an opposite dii'eclJoD ; so. crossing 
we turn our face northward, and soon leave Lambhill 
behind. A little to the right of the road vre are now fOf- 
suing is Poesil Marsh, one of the best botanical statiops for 
many miles round Glasgow. This extensive bog or quig- 
nire is covered with a dense mantle of rank aqnalii: 
vegetation, among which are a number of rather unconunoii 
Species, sucli as the MHre's-tful {hippuris vttlgai-i'y, (be 
greater speorwort (ranunculus Uiigua), a splendid plsul; 
the Bun-dew {drocera ratandifjUa), and a rich Tarielj of 
others. Fossil Marsh is indeed a valuable adjunct to tie 
Botanic Gardens of our city. What the one is to exotic 
ihe other ia to indigenous vegetation. Tor this reasoD iti 
plasliy brink has been for many years the favourite haunt of 
(he local flower lovers. Here the venerable professor and 
his boisterous band of students come to apply practically llis 
theoretical iaetructions of the class-rooms. For hoars 
occasionally they may be seen wandering about, gathering 
the choicest specimens, prying with microscopic eye into tbu 
mysteries of Flora, and conversing with exemplary gravitj 
on the number of stamens or pistils to which n certain riu) 
and order are legitimately entitled, or the form of leaf lid 
colour of corolla which mark the distinctions of genera (Od 
Bpocies. Yet "true it is, and pity 'tis 'tis true," that Bna/ 
of these scientific gents, mho can reckon you Latin niuM* 
by iJiB hundred, fculnol onea^rat ot 'CvwiisR.-^ y»*^'* 


dwells in the golilen cbalices they bo mercilesaly dissect. 
Dry as an algebraic formula is tlidr knowledge of the thbgs 
of beauty which are the Btibjects of their heartless study. 

^V Anflitiinnlhiiiginore.'' 

^^Bf "consider the lilies of the field," indeed, but it is only 
^■Biaterialg tor their herbaria, wbile the better lesson nhieh 
tlie Great Teacher has gleaned from their unwoven vestures 
of lovelineiia finds no sympathetic tbrill in their tuneless 
bosoms. We would not place upon our list of friends, 
however, tbe man who owned allegiance to such a Dry-as- 
dost philosophy'. 

The margin of the miirsh is now in its most luxuriant 
condition, being indeed one tangled inusa of verdure and 
bloom. Forget-me-nots, bed-straws, and cinque -foil. In 
rich clusters, creep among the green rushes and horse tuils, 
forming the most delightful combinations of colour imagin- 
able; while at every few steps the snipe springs up in 
tortuous flight, and tbe water-ben is heard fluttering amid 
the floating leaves, and swallows, peeseweepa and other 
birds in graceful curves keep hovering around. Insects of 
brightest hue are also here "in number numberless," 
sporting with merry hum in the sunny air, snd remiiidiiig ua 
of Moore's fine simile, — 

I" Tho beantifnl liluo aamwl fllo, 
Like wLogcd Huwora or flying ganii." 
lingering for a brief space &t this favourite haunt of 
Hora, we return to the highway, and in a short lime 
irrive at Bemulie, now the site of a comfortable looking 
ftfm-house, hut formerly an important fort or station on 
Ibe great wall of Antouine, to wbicli we have previously 
had occasion to allude. These forts were erected along 
iho enUre line of the gigantic rampart between the Forth 
and Clyde, at regnlar distances of abQuV Vmo imlis*. 'Twt 
^^tap of Hew Kiliwitrick, the ona nex^. \.i 'fteso.vSsi ^a^- *■ 


«Gsi«zl7 direction, is, in nccordaiice with this rtile, u ta 
03 inny bi3, two mllrai distant, ia is also the one tti the N 
nt Cadder. All traces of the fort at tliis place, hofferer, d 
now oblilerstfd. Not the faintest veatige even reimini I 
mark its trhcreaboat. The plough and the elementi hu 
elTectuall)' completed the desCructioD of the ancient BtKap 
hold. A little to the east, howerer, a deep groove on t' 
hrow ofa green hill still bdicates tht lino of the valluni m 
military way. Various iragmentfl of Roman ait hare il 
been from time to time discovered at Bemulia, or in i 
immediate Ticinity. One of these, a mutilated tablet, di 
from the earth towards the close of the seventeenth centui 
and now deposited in the Hunterian Miueum, has beenV 
important sereice to antiquaries, hy furnishing them inth i 
fkct necessary to the integrity of our country's history. Dj 
to that time the locality of the several British walls and tt" 
names of their builders were matters of dispute. Only et 
of the Roman hiat^rians, Julius Capitolinus, in hie life of til 
Emperor Antoninus Pius, refers to the erection of the CA 
donian wall by Lollius TTrbicua, legate under that a 
monarch. For upwards of fourteen centuries this doobdt 
incidental statement formed the sole basis of modem ksMI 
ledge regarding the individual who erected the nail. Ill 
Bemulie tablet supplied the necessary corroborative link t 
prove the authenticity of the old writer. Students of th 
aniique consequently fell into raptures on the discovery ; i 
Gordon, who afterwards traced the vestiges of the st 
from fHlli to fHth, pronounced the shattered relic " them 
invalunhla jen'el of antiquity that ever was found in tk| 
island of Britain aiuoe the time of the ISomans." 
then, is this historic pearl of great price? It is amdestoi 
seventeen inches by ten, with the following abbreriated, U 
to the nninitiated, unintelligible inscription npoii it: — ' 
p. LEO. II. A. 

a. *vo. PR. I 

By a rule ntuch we do not prolees to understand the GUf 


tuidcB of the daj extended these myBtical hieroglj-pliics into 
the following votive inacription by the Second Iiegion to the 
Legnte LoUius TIrbicus r — PoauiT Legio Secunda Augubti 
Pi«>pua:toiii, Others tranelated the legend es a votive 
tribute by the ii^gate himself to his august lord and master, 
the emperor. Where doctors differ who shall presume to 
decide? We might indeed have been induced to hazard en 
original reading of our own, but that the memory of " Aiken 
Drum's lung ladle" forbids us to venture on audi dangerous 
ground. The rigid iuduetiona of a Cuvicr, however, by 
means of which, fi^jni the splinter of a bone he could repro- 
duce, aa it were, an extinct animal, are not more interest- 
ing to the reflective mind than are those by which, from a 
few stray letters rudely carved on stone, the antiquarian has 
been enabled to rend the veil of oblivion, and bring into our 
ken tbe events or a long vanished era. 

Passing Bcmulie, where the drowsy iine are peacefully 
pasturing on the site of the ancient battlements, the road 
»^lopes gradually down to the Kelvin, which it crosses by a 
neat and substantial bridge. The river hero is somewhat 
dull and sluggish in its character, the channel being encum- 
bered with weedy ahullows, and tbe margin thickly overhung 
with saugbs and reeds of rankest growth. It wears, how- 
over, a tangled and somewhat pictur^si^ue aspect. The tall 
buhTJshes are nodding gracefully as we linger to scan ia 
leatures, and tbe rich yellow of the water-lily imparts a 
degree of brilliancy to the dark-brown and alnioBt impercep- 
lible current; while a group of cattle, scattered in the shade 
of a willow clump on tbe bank presents a picture which a 
Paul Potter or a Cooper would have loved to paint. Soft 
green undulations rising on either side at the same time 
lannonlze deiiciously with the tomparatively rugged ivnter- 
course, and enhance the quiet loveliness of the landscape. 

This bridge was the scene of a curious adventure some two- 
wore years ago. At that period there lived in yon white 
Ege whiib adorns the brow of the hill to the left, a surly 


old carle wlio had a bonnj daughter, a biythe bonnoni; 
lassie of merry eighteen. The old man was reputed 
netiltby — the maid was his sole lieircag ; aitd of course, when' 
there was beauty and prospective riches, there was no Istl 
of wooers. To the overtures of snch visitants the fatha 
Hhowed himself peculiarly averse, nor, truth to tell, did tbe 
winsoiue Mary herself seem at all anxious to change ber 
condition. But "there is a tide in the afiiiira of women." 
mid at length the Rose of the Kelvin gave her heart in keep- 
ing to a, handsome j'Outfa from our own good town. At 
usual, however, the course of true love was ruflled snJ 
fretted with ditlicultiea. The sweetheart nas ponr — Ibe 
father inexorable. The daughter waxed fairer and morefsir 
— the father more flinty ami more cross. In sweet iUiieB 
interviews the lovera for some tiinu contrived to meet, not- 
withstanding parental vigilance, until a discovery occuired 
during a gloaming walk, aficr which tiie hapless Mary vn 
Strictly confined to the house. Taithful in the time of triili 
her lover continued to haunt the vicinity, in hope of obtwn- 
ing a glimpse of the form and iiiCQ which were all the vOtU 
to him, even tlie reHection of her Ggure in the gloom of 
the night against the lighted window, proving to him aa 
exceeding great reward for weary hours of waiting. One 
dart November night, stormy and wet, he left the dtyi" 
usual, in a vehicle, for the purpose of visiting the tpcn. 
Whether the driver had taken a drop too mueh, or whellw 
the thick darkness had bewildered him, we cannot say, hot 
on passing this bridge, with the impetus of the declivity frtnn 
Itemulie, the machine was overturned, and the love-fii^ 
Bwain precipitated into the svfollen Kelvin. Jehu, who W 
by some chance alighted safely on the bridge, iiutead ot 
looking in the roaring channel for his hapless " faro," riui It 
once to the cottage of Mary's father and gave the aJani'- 
The old man and his servants immediately rushed in a bodj. 
with lanterns, &0., to the wkt^b qC the catastrophe, and in- 
Btituted a miniiW Beatc\iio O'^evsVa.tO'Mv'i.eMk'jQ'i.'&^ 




stream for the body of the unfortunate gentleman. It was 
all in vain, however, and after a couple of hours spent in 
fruitless exertion, they returned t-o the house, moralizing on 
the sad fate of the supposed stranger. ^^ Hech, sirs I but 
he's gotten a sudden ca*, puir fallow,*^ said the old maid- 
servant, settling herself by the kitchen fire, '* and dootless 
itUl bring a Siiir stoun to some heart." Her sympathetic 
remarks were brought to an abrupt termination by the 
entrance of her master, who inquired for his daughter Mary. 
The maid went to the chamber of her young mistress for the 
purpose of calling her. She was not there, however ; while 
on the floor of the room and on the stair there was a watery 
track as if fh)m dripping clothes. Great was the alarm of 
the old man when these suspicious circumstances were an- 
notmced to him ; nor, it may be surmised, was his agitation 
much abated when a little urchin who acted as boots to the 
fiimily exclaimed, ^^ Ay, Miss Hilary *s sweetheart was here, a* 
plashing wat, and she gaed oot wi* him a gude while since 
wi' her bonnet and shawl on.*' It was even so, however ; 
and that very night a ^^ Ruglen wedding " consummated the 
happiness of the Rose of Kelvin and her '^ drouket Glasgow 
chappie." A reconciliation of course speedily ensued, and 
in i^ler years the gentleman has been heard to say, that the 
most fortunate event in his life was being tumbled neck and 
heels in the dark, over a bridge, into the bosom of an angry 
and turbid spate. 

A few minutes* walk over an intervening elevation brings 
us from the Kelvin to the Allander, where the latter stream 
seems hastening to its junction with the former in a sweet 
q>ot about half-a-mile to the south-east. In the vicinity of 
the bridge by which we cross the rivulet here, there is a bluff 
bank of brown sand, which for many years has formed a 
favourite breeding-place for the sand martin or swallow. 
The steep breast of the declivity is honeycombed, as it were, 
with the excavations of the little feathered miners, which, in 
the season of nidification) keep coTi^Amx^^ ^T^^ ^^ ^^^'^ 

from their snndy domiciles like bees at a hive. Ws 
often sat for hours nratohing the nrntions of this bUnatin; 
rolony, or strolled about the bank culling the floral beaatio 
irith which it is BO thickly studded. We cannot spare lit 
for suoh dalliance with Flora to-daj, however ; ao, puiii 
the toll-house, beeide which the tolUkeeper's little lan 
couched on the green, where his snowy rabbits ore muncla 
the Eucculent clover, we leave the highway, and by a nam 
footpath, a^'end the hill. Pausing for a moment on i 
eumniic, what a splendid prospect meets our gaze ! To lift 
south-west, over a richly-undulating surface, we see 
aacendbg vnpours of SancC Mungo, with Teonant'i 
chimney, the monarch of his species, towering proiidij 
through the cloud, with his fur-floating plume of sinoiA 
Westward, over woods and fields, the Kilpatiick Hill* 
with Duneombe, like an immeose blue bonnet, rising one 
their highest brow; to the north, the vust strath of ^ 
LeDDox, with Milngavte and Dougalstone in the immediite 
foreground. We have touched on the Roman wall alreadf 
at various points, but from our present " coigne of vantage" 
we can trace its course nt a glance for some ei^ht or nine 
milcB, and comprehend more distinctly than hitherto the fit- 
ness of its plan. Duntooher, Castlehill, Kew Kilpntrick, and 
Bemulie are before us now as if on a map ; and we can speca- 
late on their relative positions and the combined operations 
necessary for their defence against the attacks of our indo- 
mitable but savage Caledonian tktbers. 

Descending on the opposite side of the hill you may weH 
ask, gentie reader, what lovely sheet of water, so calm, 
secluded, and still, now bursts upon our view, TliM is 
Bardowie Loch— Banlowie the beautiful ; and we ask tk« 
if a glance of it would not more than repay thee for a sum- 
mer day's journey? Yet there are thousands in our wa 
good town — admiren of nature, too, in a fashionable myi 
and who travel far in search of the picturesque — who htM 

I never dreamed that such a gem exists at their own tbreehel^l 



re. Willi siicli people the far away bird alone ia gifted 
<nth glorious plumage. Happier those who, ivith tbe gontle 
poet of " The Task," can saj,— 

Bardowie, aa you will obaer^e, ia a ipaciouB loohlut of about 
aeveoty acres in superHciol extent, its irregular margin being 
adorned with picturesque clumps of trees, intersected here 
and there by patches of iresh green pasture land, while its 
immediiite circumference is girt with a prgfiision of rank 
aquatic vegetation. Finely situated on its north-east side, 
and emboweriid among foliage, is Bardowie House, an edifice 
of moderate size, and somewhat timeworn, yet withal wear- 
ing an appearance of quiet cosieness and comfort. Yon 
towering flagstaff on the sloping bank, and yon wreaths of 
blue smoke curling above tbe old ancestral trees, lend a 
human interest to the scene, which would otherwise be dreary 
as a mountain turn. Cut let: us descend to the nDimtc beach. 
Did you ever witness such Eplendid specimens of the golden 
irii, such " stately foxgloves fair to see," or such fragrant 
foam-crowned queens of tbe meadow? We verily believe 
you never did ! Everything vegetable in ita nature seenm 
indeed more than ordinarily luxuriant here. And what a 
rich variety there is t The botanist might wander for days 
by the rushy margin, and fail to exhaust ila treasures. We 
have ourselves ere now seen an eccentric but enthusiastic 
band of naturalists engaged for hours in rifling the vege- 
table and animal productions of this tiny lake, and still some 
longed-for object escaped their eager scrutiny. A ciirioua 
group they were, in truth, each engaged in bis favourite 
field of study. Hero a sedate entomologist, net in band, 
punumg with ludicrous earnestness the flickering motha and 
butterlUes ; there a spectacled philosopher with a long ladle 
groping loringly i« the water for " powheads," " scurs," and 
other nauseoua creeping things; at yonder reedy point an 
ornithologist rejoicing in tbo discovery of a water-beu's anal, 


or blowing, with pufled out cheeks and purpla broir, tl» 
contents from a smpe's egg ; while the flower-gatberen. 
vosculum ID band, were eagerly scaniuDg the Burromidiiig 
verdure, and muttering at eveiy step some horrid Lttii 
name. A merry as well as n wise corps they were, and not; 
were the good-natured jokes which from lime to time thej 
uttered at the expense of each other's hobbies, while ihc 
M^hoea of the lonely loch resounded with their boialeroui 
cachinnations. Alas I they are scattered far and wide noi'. 
Some have fallen into the long sleep ; others are " fur ajom 
the wave ;" while those that remain but seldom walk togelha 
in the old familiar paths. 

We must be gobg, however; and see, a 
"fisher heron, watching eels" by yon crescent of goltoi 
lilies, takes wing arid lloats lazily, but with a peculis 
gracffulneas of flight, across tbe still waters wherein 
moving image is reflected. Now it has alighted on 
fiirther shore, and is once mora "quiet as a stone." Pa* 
ing b a north-east dh;ection by the borders of DougalstoM 
woods, where we regale oureelves with tbe piquant but 
dehcious fruit of the wild strawberry, now red and ripe " 
the wayside, and by the farm-house of Dowan, we so 
arrive at the kirk-toim of Baldemock. Strictly 
however, Baldemock is neither town, village, clachan, 
hamlet. It consists principally of two churches, an 
hshed and aFree, both unassuming buildings, about a-qnartM< 
of a mile or so apart, with the neeeasary adjuncts of 
&c,, and a few stray cottages dropped here and there as if> 
by chance, and without any apparent relationship to 
other. There is an old and diminative meal-mill in (!« 
vicinity, the happer of which at the period of our visit isi^ 
rest for want of vratcr ; and close to the parish church tbeq 
is a comfortable public-house, where refreshment of excelled 
quality for man and beast may be obtained. The ramhlil 
who has no special objections to tbe "dew" 
irunls abundantly supplvei m. \,\i\a iicsA \uis! 


" pledged" may have their hearts' conlent of nature's brew- 
ing at a fine spring which issues from a green bant near the 

Ailer a brief interval of rest we bid farewell to Balder- 
nock — which is Tually a deliglitful rural locality, with ita 
cosie cottages, well-stocted gardens, umbrageous trees, and 
■wide- extending prospects — and pursue our course towards 
tha north-east. On one hand, we have a thick belt of 
planting; on the other, a line undulating stretch of country, 
arable, woodland, and pastoral, bounded by the Campsie 
FeQa, the Kilpatrick Hills, and the far mountains of the High- 
lands. E?ery turn of the road altera the features of the 
anrrounding landscape, and brings new beauties to our ken. 
The wayside, too, is rife with floral loveliuess. This dry 
stane dike, with its divot covering, is one lengthened flower- 
border. Every crerice haa its own minute fern, every gap 
its own rose-bush. Here is one tall rose-tree, in fiill bear- 
ing, which, in its ambition, has actually taken root on the 
munmit of the wall. The Hindoo Sbaster says, " The 
almond tree is like unto the good man, for if you strike 
ita branches, they send down upon you a shower of scented 
blossoms," Uar own wild rose, you see, teaches the same 
lesBon, for by merely giving it "a gude rongh shake," we 
liave been enveloped iu rosebuds. Let us endeavour to 
take the fragrant admonition to heart ; but meanwhile, here 
we are at Craigmadie Wood. Within the dense umbrage 
before us lies concealed a stately mansion, which is at pre- 
sent the residence of Spcns Black, Esq. Our intention, 
however, is not to trespass on the hospitality of that gentle- 
man, but to inspect the " auld howlet-haunted biggin'" of 
Grmgioadie Castle, which is situated on a rtring ground in 
6k vicinity of the modern house. By an intricate footpath 
tbrough the leafy maze, and after several times going astray 
among the tall ferns and flickering shadows, wo at length 
reach the spot. A mere fragment, shattered and weather- 
iron!, w ^ that now reiodnB of Lliis o'awW&iia'OTKv'att., ^Swi 



Holitary tower, shorn of its fiur proportions, yet sturdy ewa 
in decay, is the sole veslige oi' its former grandea 
roof and the grenter pnrt of tbe iiaUa bare tambled m, 
probably centuriea ago ; yet, under the debru, a 
dungeon -like chuniber continues aJmoat entire- 
trance is choked up with rubbish, but by a narrow loop- 
hole iu the wall the visitor obtains a peep into its interior, 
which is gloomy in the extreioe. There is littk-, indeed, U 
interest the arch^ologiet in this crumbling edifice of llu 
dead; but the poet might find abundant material for the 
esercise of his muse within its deserted and dreary pra- 
<unct9, and the painter obtain a aaggestive snatch of betllit|r 
from its not unpicturesque desolation. Nature, we maj 
further mention, has been peculiarly kind to this mouldering 
relic of the past. Indeed, we have never seen ruin so riuhlj 
garbed with vegetation as in this instance. The green itj 
hongs dense over certain portions of the structure while 
every aewm and Bear is fringed with foliage of the minuter 
ferns and rock plants. On the summit of the walls a Scold 
fir and an aah have taken up their station, like wardura, 
with a wild rose, which is in bloom at the period of our 
TiMt, " scenting the dewy air," while on a projection below 
U a broad patch of thyme, crimsoned with blossoms. IJttk 
is known of tbe origin and history of Craogmadie Castle. 
In the thirteenth century it was in the posaesdon of tbe 
ancient family of the Galbrdths of Baldcrnock, who ob- 
tained it in the reign of Alexander II., with the surrounding 
barony, from Maldwin, Earl of Lennox. About the begio- 
nbg of tbe fourteenth century tbe possessions of this family 
passed, by marriage with the heiress, to David HamiltODi 
son of Lord Hamilton, whose descendants afterwards took 
the title of Bordowie, and of whom the late Dr. FraWM 
Hamilton was the lineal representative. Regarding tbe tit" | 
cumstances under which tho edifice was permitted ti 
into decay history contains no record. 

Adjoining Craigraadie Wood to tbe east, and bearing ih 


^ime name, is an exteneive tract of moorland, wild, nigged, 
nnd covered wilh heather. To thia dreary expanse we now 
proceed, to visit the far-famed " Auld Wivea' Lifts." Theae 
are situated in the centre of a spacious natural amphithentre 
in the middle of the waste, and consiat of three immenae 
masses of solid atone, two of whicfi are prismatic in shape 
and lybg side hy side, while the third, which ia nearly 
eighteen feet in length by eleven in breadth nod seven in 
thickness, is firmly poised above them, so as to form as it 
were an immense and somewhat rude alt&r. According to 
popnlar belief ^ii curioua structure was formed by the 
uDited exBrtions of three old women, in those daya when, 
through the agency of the enemy of man, certain wrinkled 
crones were occaBioually gifted with Eupernatoral powers, 
by means of which they could take an aerial midnight jaunt 
on a bind-weed at pleasure, and work all imaginable kinds 
of mischief on their unfortunate neighbours. Three of these 
"weird slaters" on one occasion, it seema, engaged in a 
trial of strength, in which the victory was to be declared in 
liivour of the individual who should carry a large stone to 
the greatest distance. One took up her "lift," and bearing 
it along for some time, dropped it at this place ; the second 
next lifted her ponderous burden, and bore it forward, but 
by some mischance let it fall close to that of ber predecessor; 
on BOuiog this, however, tho third, who seems to have been 
a Ilercolean witch indeed, raised a much larger mass tban 
uither, and to show her superiority, hurled it with ease on 
the top of the two pre"^diiig stones. Such is the popular 
myth, and to this day the natives of Baldemock, Strath- 
hkne, and Campsie, to which localities the Titanic anld 
wives respectively belonged, have occasionally serious bicker- 

, ,'a%» regarding the wreath of victory. Heads have been 

iiften in the dispute, but we understand that, after all, it 
■ never yet been properly decided. 
Between the three huge blocks there is a narrow and 
newbat tortuous passage, through which every unmarried 

3GC UAi.nrLRSi 

vLiitant to tie «pot, who is not dcuroua of living a 
nngle blessedness, is recommended to scramble ir 
contrarjto the course of the sun. Parties failjiig to pi 
tbis necessarj ceremonial in lionoar of the genita toei, ei 
irillinglj or throufih neglect, arc understood to have forfeited 
for ever the favour of Iljtnen, and even although they «honId 
afterwards become benedictinea, need never espeet to mtness 
a tiny group of olive branches springing up around that 
table I Such, according to the popular crcud, are the 
rajsterious inlluencea of the "Auld Wives' Lifts." We need 
hardly mention further, that when the lade and laases of tiic 
neighbourhood visit the locality, they invariably submit to 
the ordeal, or that on such occasions there is abundance ot' 
good 'humoured raillery and loud-rin^ng laughter. 

Antiquaries have a different method of accounting for the 
origin of the "Auld Wives' Lifts," although even Iheyhavo 
tbeir differences of opinion on the subject, fiy some this 
fTif^tic cromlech is supposed to be a Druidical altar, 
wbereon, in a dim prchixtAric era, the dark rites of pagan 
worship may have been celebrated. In support of this theory 
it is stated that, until a comparatively recent period, the 
remains of an encircling grove of oak trees were vinbte ^M 
the surrounding heights, which, from their gentle 
slopes, also seem peculiarly adapted for the accommodatilf 
of worsbipping crowds, who might assemble t 
sacrifice of human victims whose blood was shed at the n 
shrine of Moloch. From the farm and appearance, as ir 
■a the situation of this lone structure, indeed, this theo 
seems to our mind exceedingly probable, and with a 
persuasion of its truthfulness, wo experience a gruesome tl 
not altogether disagreeable feeling pervading ui 
upon the stone of blood, which now, thank Heaven 1 i 
(brgottco the purpose of its erection. We think of ^ 111 
written by Keats, — 

"Then bi picamre on the heetti 


The nftme of Craigmadie, which in the Celtic, by no 
strained derivation, means the '■ Eock of God," seems lo us 
an additional oridence thut the atructm^ waa erected for 
purposes connected irith worship. The cromlech, accord- 
ing to this view of the mRtter, has given a name to the moor 
OD nhich it is situated, a suppodtioa which, to our mind, 
■ecniH not at all improbable. 

In hia excellent and elnborate work, the Prehialoric AnnaU 
of Scotland, Mr. Daniel WilHon, latelj' honorary Secretary 
of the Society of Antiquaries, but now a resident in Canada, 
has given an engraving and a brief description of the "Auld 
WiTCs' Lifts." This gentleman has adopted the opinion 
that all cromlechs (and of course this amongst others) arc of 
a monumental nature, and that the cavity between the atones 
fai designed for the reception of human remains. From an 
inspection of this specimen, and with all due dcferoncu to so 
learned an authotity, we can only say that it seems to us 
BxceeiliDgly ill adapted far su;;h a. purpoBC. The chomheri 
as we have sold, is highly irregular in form ; in fact, it seeme 
rather an accidental effect than the deugn of the cromlecb 
that it is there at all The superior block appears somewhat 
geometrical in form, especially on its upper surface, but the 
under surface and the two lower stones are rude and 
unshapely in the eKtreme. Begorded as an altar we 
recognize a certain degree of fitness in the appearance and 
proportionR of the cromlech of Craigmadie, but considered 
as a sepulchral i^hamber, it violates all our notions of suita- 
bility to the desired end. We may mention that the 
dranghtaman of Mv. Wilson has been unfortunate in the 
paint of view Irom which hia sketch of the "Auld Wives' 
Ufta" IB taken, the orifice being left entirely out of sight. 
He has also failed to convey an adequate idea of the 
magniluile of the three masses of which the structure is 

Ascending the rising ground in the vicinity we obtain a 
splendid prospect of the turrounding country. We do not, 


howerer, tee across the island from sea to sea, U o 
parties have done. XeTertbelens, (he spot is wkU worth]' vf 1 
a Tiait for iCa landscape beauties alone. The vast bann of I 
the Clyde, from Kilpntrick to Djchmont, is strctehed to Hn 
sonth-west, at the spectator'^ feet as it were, with Glasgov. 
Paisley, and counlless other towns, villajres, and geatlemen'f 
seats, scattered on its brenat; while the line of the horiioo 
U formed by the Gleniffer and Fereneie Braes, Ballygacb, 
Neilstoo Pad, and Cathkin. Turning in a nortli-iKi' 
direction we have, across the dreary moor, the Campac 
Fella, scarred by the Clachan and Kn Glens, and the ravine 
of Ballagan, with the peak of Dungoync overhanging tlie 
sweet strath of the Blane. But wo must make onr desoenti 
to, taking a farewell glance at the old altar, liuhened and 
gray, around whieh the wild birds which our presence bu 
disturbed are already settling eerily, we turn our f»ce 
towards Boltnore, whieh is situated about three miles (o ll>e 
Bouth-east. It i» primjipiilly down hill, hovrever, so thai "c 
shall Bccompliiih the distance, as Paddy would say, "in lev 
than no time." 

As we pursue our downward course the country beoomM 
gradualiy more and more fertile, until having pnraed in 
succession the farms of East and West Blturskailh »ni 
Glenorthard, we find ourselves among green English-UIn 
lanes, with verdant hedgerows and ovei'shndowing lien 
entering the village of Baloiore, which is finely situated afi 
the margin of an extensive baugh, bounded to the west b]' 
the river Kelvin. Balmore is an excellent specimen of n 
old-fashioned Scottish claclian. It is of no great extent, dW | 
does it seem at all ambitious to increase its dimenooM* 1 
We should say Indeed, that, judging from appearances, it^4 
"a finished town." The houses are, in the majority (f^ 
instances, plain and of one storey, with kail-yards attadiedfl 
them, and lying east and west of the road, 
tendency to avoid anything like orderly arrangemt?! 
Host of the tenements are at the same time "thoekit" 



ImitivG fashion, wliile the gablea lire generallv sarmounted 
by " crftw-scepa" atid dirarGsh iunis, wbiuli, like irrmkles on 
the humnn face, are iniiicatire of an advanced age. A 
sprinkling of trees incretisea the rural aspect of the town- 
Then there are the usual branches tjf old norld village trade. 
A gnucy public- house of course there is. The souter'a sign, 
"awce thocht agee," meets your eje here; there is the beild 
of the tailor, as you are informed by a homely collocation of 
ill-formed letters; this, again, by the heterogeneous ssseni- 
blage of scones, snaps, peeries, bobbins, red herrings, and 
tape, in Ibe window, must be " the hit shopie of Jenny 
a" things," an indispensable pereonage in every small com- 
munity; nhilc the cart-nheel at, and the horse-shoe on, the 
door of this biggin', tells in unniistakeable terms where the 
emiddy is located. The presence of vrabsters is also an- 
nounced, ns you pass along, by the jingling of the shuttle. 
It is- at the same time evident, by the number of female faces 
peering from doors and winnouks, as the atrniigiir moret 
along, that the gudewives and lasses here are not altogether 
free from the iiin that doth most easily beset their sex in 
other and more polished localities. 

There are two curiosities in Bnlmore; and what doea 
the reader think these may be? Why, nothing less than 
s "big tree" and a live poet and novelist. The former 
of these (to give precedence according to local etiquette), 
a Blately ash, with a trunk thirty-nine feet in height 
dear of branches, and a fine umbrageous head, is the 
pride and glory of the vJlUga. He would require to be 
■ bold and a stalwart man who dared to utter a hint in dis- 
paragement of this sylvan giant within " earshot" of Bal- 
iQora,* Such ceremooy would be superfluous, we suspect, 
in the case of the author. Yet Thomas Hamilton Dickson 
is no ordinary man, as the reader will readily surmise when 




we ti'U him that honest Thomas baa produced no leirer tixm 
tno poetical publications, a historical novel, and an autobb- 
graphjl We have not the pleasure of an introdacrion to 
this village genius ; but we are inrormed that he is a buirdl}' 
chiel, with Sowing locks ^nda good development of cranium; 
and that when " snoddit up" on a, Sunday, with slurt-coltar 
a ^ Byron, he hna quite a Cbristopber-Sorthish appearance. 
Mr. DicliBon is, as we understand, in somewhat humble or- 
cumatances ; but, (rom Ibe autobiographj alluded to, it 
appears that, liie St. Patrick, heis "come of decent people," 
and can boast a pedigree of whieh any duke in the couatrv 
might well be proud. One is qiute astonished, indeed, at the 
number of great men whom he can boost among his pro- 
geuitors. ^nce a period considerably prior to the days of 
Wallace scarcely a great battle has occurred In which [be 
Dickaons have not distinguished themselves by extraoTdinny 
feats of " derring-do." We regret to say that the deiceii- 
dant of sacb a linu of herow ha? been at length pernutCed, 
by an angrateful country, to sink below the level of Lindla/ 
Murray. Yet so it is. We have glanced over the writing* 
poetical and prose, of Mr. Dickson, and are most unwiffinglj 
compelled to admit the sad fact. There is a conuderable 
amount of originality, however, in the aabjeeU of his mioei 
fls will be admitted when we mention the titles of two of !>>■ 
pieces. They are as follows : — " Verses on a young 1»# 
refusing to accept a ticket to a ball with the author j" isi 
" Lines on a young lady refusing to dance" with the sio" 
ilbstriouB individual. These are both, as maybe easily sup- 
posed, deeply tinged with the pathetic. The second, tow- 
ever, concludes with the fallowing spbited liaea : — 
"Bj-fnrj-l oiack mo not Bjidii, 

One little gem (guda gear gangs in sma' bouk) is worthy of 
being transcribed entu^. It is headed " WorthlesJnes»i 
and t-uns tbus, — 

Or a JihtlDn free of people 

The nibemiaDism in thia is delightful abovo meaBuro, and 
we might cull many such, if time tuid space permitted, from 
the inspired pages of the Balmore poet. We must refrain, 
hoire'ver ; hut, hefore parting with our author, and lent we 
should do him an unintentional injustice, we must quote one 
other specimen, which, to tell the truth, occurring where it 
Joes, takes us completely by surprise : — 


llnlgbt, mom, Mdnu™; 

Now, gnod'bye, Thomas ! There is simplicity, tenderness, 
And truth in these lines ; and for their sake we will not even 
•ilude to thy " Historical Novel of CJamourtown." Would 
that thou hadst always written thus I but of course the muse, 
like other coquettes, will only dance when it pleases heraelf, 
— 80, good-bye! And now for Cadder." 

Round the fertile haugh of Balmote, the Ki'lvin, confined 
hj an artificial embankment, makaa a bold and gracefiil 
Sweep, On one side of the stream are luxuriant cropo, 
"Steading field beyond field over an alluvial plain; on the 
other are the nmbrageoua woods of Cadder, covering 
•AlMl ilail for tlie creill of (ha Bjlmoro bsrd, Iha ™™ wo li»w Jmt 
Bnmmt, bom ibe pigo of Uiu Jcniburj'. 


hundreds of ncrcs, and encloeing leafy glades and sjliin 
recesses innumerable, Croaaing the hangh in a BOUtb-uBt 
direction we soon reacli the dull and sluggish water, wUek 
a here crossed by a picturesque luie of large stepping atoMi. 
One of these wssses is hewn into the form of a tablet, and* 
the period of our visit a gronp of serious- looking spectacled 
individuals are engaged in examining it with profotmJ 
interest, lingering for a moment, as they obstruct dn 
passage, we learn from their convenation that they are DM 
and all firmly persuaded that the stone in question is ndtlier 
more nor less than an ancient Roman landmark. "True," 
one of them remarks in a pompous sort of tone, " there u 
DO inscription on it, but then exposure to the weather tmil 
the rude trampling to which it has been subjected, will easily 
account for that ; whilst its characteristic peculinritics of 
form, and its vicinity to a Roman station, are at least highlj 
probable Qvidenees of its ancient orlgio." One of the pirti'i 
ddjustiag his epectaclea, proposes to take an accnraK 
urement of the valuable relic; another, who seems an 
at once commences sketching it ; while a third multen 
something about a communication to the Antiquarian Sode^. 
At this moment a couple of aweethearta from the neighboitt- 
ing viUage, taking a gloaming walk, come tripping ath*Bt' 
the Kelvin. Being detained a moment in their passage ' 
the entUusiustic philosophers, as we ourselves have beea,tlw 
lad oareleasly asks what they are looking at. " Why, bJ 
good fellow (answers one of the saoans, with a rich Iiifti 
accent), its neyther more nor- less, my jewel, thi 
Roman tablet, a reljc of the Emperor Antoninus Pius, wlucfci 
by some dreadful and unaccountable misthake, has bcrt, 
tumbled into this dirty wather." On hearing this, the 
who has been hanging back somewhat bashfully, at i 
steps forward, asking rather glibly to be shown the object 
their adoration. It is of course pointed out 
immediately alter g\ai\dtig at'A, B'ce'o'mftam 
Taw, CXi;\a.\ai\iig at. 'fcc sanu; 'at 


»f her voice, ^* Antoninus Pius! A^tweel I wat ye^re a set 
\' filler, far a' sae wise-like as ye leuk. It% naetbing o' 
he kin*; for it's jist Redbog's auld cheese-press that IVe 
rrought mony a day mysel\ and whilk was cuist aade 
rhen they got yon new-fangled machine. Antoninus Pius, 

Gadder is a lovely little village, consisting of a neat modem 
rothac churck and a number of cottages, not very many, 
mttered picturesquely about, and perfectly embowered 
fMumg trees. The name is said to be derived from a British 
^ord signifying " a place beautifully embellished with wood 
nd water," and it must be admitted that it well deserves 
be name. In the vicinity of the village there are well de- 
ned traces of a small Roman camp, which we glance at, en 
agaant, but ad the sun is now below the horizon, we are 
ompelled ta hurry on our way. We soon cross the canal, 
fhatAk pass^ near the village, and in a few minutes there- 
iftop reach the Glasgow and Kirkintilloch Road, by which, 
Mtpmg through the villages of Bishopbriggs and Springburn, 
NBd idtimately make our way into the city, arriving at the 
'^Bell o* thd Brae** just as the clocks are ^^ chappin* ten.*' 


»pa tlie iliuprald iIdk ; lud in ihe in»Lla 
n MnUj tliifffid, ind bruLhin^ no porfaine- 

Tbh year is laat fiiUing into the sear aod yellow leiC 
Autumn has laiJ aside her sickle, and the golden tensall 
crowd the spacious barn-yard, wliere smiling plenty 
inverted horn bida man expect, nith satisfied complacencji 
the coming of the dark and stormy wiDter. The happj* 
cattle, free frona tha herd's control, are out upon the stnbblft- 
rig, browsing on the rich green undergrowth of succulent 
clover, Tfhich, as every dairymud can tell, yields the mnl 
delicious product in the chum. What a glorious time of i^ 
too, the wild birds have amid the fruit-aboundjng woods tud 
grain-strewn fields I The mottled throstle revels on the kA 
rowan tree, or amid the blushing haws; and even ni 
fleldfare, from the far, far north, is hastening over land ui 
sea to share the plenteous banquet of the woods. A msttj 
company, as well as a mischievous, are the sparrows at A. 
times and seasons; but doubly joyous, doubly diiuome, an 
they now, as in vast gregarious flocks they haunt tl 
mantled fields. Larks and linnets, gray and green, alH 
swarm upon the grateful meadows: but songless all — saw. 
that occasionally some minstrel of the sky breaks forth iuta 
a brief chirrup that reminds us of departed spring, and th»t; 
the Untie, in its flight, gives utterance to the licli mDsica 


» which erst gladrleDed onr ear nmidst the yellow broom 

fnimmer. The swiJiow, which fcnoweth its appointed hour, 

u lingers, as if in love, over the breast of loch and stream, 

n gentlest curves around the edifice where its claj' 

It shed is clinging to the eavea. Revelling in the abun- 

« of the great mother, all things of earth and air, indeed. 

Pom the least even unto the greatest, are filled with theer- 

a and gratitude, — 


:li luiglcd DOOk, 

Beaudful, indeed, and full of f^wect suggestion is the 
Interval which comes between the close of autumn and the 
trinter's snell approach, llie Amerieans talk with rapture 
of their "Indian summer," but surtly its charms are not 
nore worthj of admiration than are those of the corre- 
sponding season in our own clime. It is a genuine September 
daj. During the night there has been a smart touch of 
frost, a foretaste faint of what is in store for us. Tbie 
moming, indeed, ne can assure ;ou 

"ThUli»l|te. toner, indln^ 

Bnt the glorious exhalations of the dawn — as Wordsworth 
might poetically have called the eranrcuch — have now 
£sappeared, and the atmosphere is beyond comparison 
clear, and so bracing that one feels a perfect exhilnration 
inwalkiog. It ia just the sort of day, in short, on which we 
thould like to master the "muckle Ben," or some kindred 
^ant, and place onr foot triumphant on liis brow. So, 
making our way through tbe crowded and bustling streets 
of our good dty, with an esteemed friend on our arm, " a 
^Qow of infinite jest," we soon find ourselves comfortably 
Hated in one of the commodious carriages of "the Edin- 
burgh and Glasgow." A few minutes' waiting brings the 
tpptHuted boor, when punctual as the clock the signal is 
^nn, and behold we are in the bowels of tbe land, punning 


«mid darkness and din our paasngc tbrou^b tlie tunieL 
This is soon over, however ; snd emerging i ' 
M Cowlairs, wo are swooping through the (ino undalat)lt;.< 
country to tlie north-east of Gloegow. The 6elds 
but the stubble Las a rich nisset bus that is 
refreshiDg to tho eye \ while the deep green of the 
patches, which every now and then flit pnat, ^vei 
Hgreeftble variety of tint to tiia ever-thanging scene. Not 
we have a picturesque group of " potato-lift«ra " bualjil 
work on the blighted furrows, with a lengthened n)W of 
half-Glled socks behind them ; again we are rushing atbwut 
■n unreclaimed track of moorland, where the brown butb 
retains its primitive sway, and peat ricka are seeD ti 
intervals; and anon it is a snug farm-stcadiog, with ibe 
usual bein accessories, which for an instant courts our gut 
and then is gone. Halting for a moment at Bishopbrigjt 
Station, we are informed by an exceedingly civil and well- 
ittfbrmed companion of the rdl that the biahops of Gla^ovi 
in ancicQt times, held extensive landed possesaona hnt, 
and that the uame of the locality was originally " Bishops 
KiggB," which appellation has been in course of idme cor- 
rupted into that by which it ia at present known, fft 
think the statement not at all improbable, more eapeciaUl 
as we subsequently discover that our informant is quite an 
adept in the antiquarian line. Indeed, although be hd 
swallowed and thoroughly digested a whole etymologicl 
library, be could not have been more at his ease among 
tbe jaw-breaking m}-steries of Saxon, Celtic, and Dsniib 
nomenclature, Biahopbrigga is now a village of considersble 
extent, but of somewhat nuprepossessing appearance, sad 
la inhabited prinapaliy by tbe lower order of Irish, "li" 
certainly do not make up for its physical defects by sd; 
access of moral lovelineaa. It will be reraemljered that it 
was j.t this spot that a foul murder was committed on tliB 
person of ati Engtab ^,00"^ ot (netsaet b^ two ItTsli 
Jabourers, duiing tlm SotmaUon o^ \Ii«. isji.- 

irisb I 


was perpetrated in tlie immediate viciiiity of that bridge 
under which we are now passing, and the wretched criminals 
afterwards sufiered the penalty of their dire offence within 
sight of the scene. 

The line now tends gradually towards the east, through 
a fine fertile ^Ulstrict of country, studded with gentlemen*s 
seats, farm-steadings, and occanonal coal-pits. Nothing 
calUng for special remark, howeyer, occurs until we arriye 
at the Kirkintilloch and Campsie Junction, when we 
diyerge from the main trunk towards the north. Anything 
approaching the character of an eyent is a thing which is 
fortunately of extremely rare occurrence on this fayourite 
and beautiful line, and we are deposited all right, after a 
pleasant run of some half-hour*s duration, at the Kirkin- 
tilloch Station. Here, true to his trust, in suit of sober 
blacky broadish-brimmed hat, and staff* in hand, is our 
esteemed and yenerable friend, Walter Watson, the author 
of "We've aye been provided for, and sae will we yet," 
**Jockie's far awa,'* and many other lyrics which have 
deservedly attained extensive popularity.* We must intro- 
duce you, gentle reader, to the ancient bard, who, you 
will observe, is a gash, decent-looking specimen of the 
auld warld Scotsman. Walter is now on the lee side of 
fourscore— the snows of time are on his well-formed head, 
and the furrows of age on his expressive countenance ; but 
there is a merry twinkle in the old man's eye, and a fresh- 
ness in his complexion, which still indicate the possession of 
connderable mental and bodily vigour. Long, long ere the 
writer of this, or the vast majority of his readers had made 
their entree on the stage of life, our friend Walter was 
known as a sweet singer in the land, and even until now he 
finds a solace in the muse. One of the earliest songs which 
we remember from the lips of our mother was of Mr. 
Watson's production, and she had committed it to memory 

* Poor old Walter, one of the best specimens of a gash, kindly-hearted ScoCs- 
Dan that we have ever been privileged to meftt* \a "dssv^ «2^\ Vsx >^^ ^^^an^ 
Mppolnted for all living, 



nhen a "wee, wee laasie." Wlien afterwardg we leaned 
thnt the suthor of that lay was still in the land of the liiin^ 
we could scarcely credit the fact, m we bad Bomehon or 
other BBsodated it with a bygone age of poe^y. It wati not 
9o in reality, however, although the mistake, under iba 
circiim stances, waa natural enough. Upwards of fifty pan 
have passed away since the song, "We've aye been p»- 
Tided for," was given to the public, and at once became i 
"household word" among the Scottish peasaotry. Since 
that period it has retained its popularity, and wo doubt not 

Walter Wataon was bom on the brink of poverty, anJ 
js he saya himself, has " never been able to wauchle very 
far up the brae." He has been a weaver, a " Seots Gtey," 
a stone-knapper, a sign-painter, and many a thing besidet, 
for \V alter in a strait could tnm bis band to "maistlj 
onything;" but he was kept down throughont, like minj 
another honest and industrious man (and ancb Walter 
emphotiually is), by what the Scota eall a sma" famiiy, but 
which an Englishman would probably denominate a pretty 
large one. In the course of nature he is now drawing near 
the close of his career, and amidst age and the infirmities 
incident to a more than ordinarily extended span, is ao* 
earning his living on the loom, in the village of Duntibbe, 
near Kirkinsilloch. Yet is the old man ever cheerful, He 
has many friends among his lowly compeers, and the respect 
in which he is held by tbem baa been manifested in naaj' 
ways, which most have been alike gratilying to his feeUsgs 
and ameliorative of his neeesHities. Let us truaC that, » 
he has aung in the past, he may stjll be enabled to say '" 
the future. 

But here is the ancient poet (who, by the by, is witbont 
his spectacles) aa the look-out for us all this time. "Bb, 
Walterl how are you? I hope we have not kept jot 



■waltinK?" "Ob,juet a wee bit blink," sajs the old man, 
■warmly sialting our hand ; " no worth speaking o' ; but 1 
hope ye'rawcel? and is this jour frien' (taking his hand) 
about whom I've heard j-ou speak ? Man, L'm glad to see 
you, and that ye've gotten sic a bonny day for your bi 
jauntie." As we proceed into the town, which is situated on 
H rising ground to the west of the station, and quite adjacent 
to it, Walter informs us that he had recently been threatened 
" wi' a bit touch o' the Jaundice, but was noo coniin' geyan 
■weel roun'," Crossing the Luggie — here a considerable 
stream — by a somewhat time-honoured bridge, and taking 
up hill, we are soon in the heart of Kirkintilloch, and sur- 
veying its curiotis auld warld aspects. The streets are 
narrow and irregular, striking off here and there without 
harmony of design or the least apparent regard for the 
rectangular. About the croes there ia even a dash of the 
picturesque — some of the edifices being of considerable 
antiquity, and reminding us, in their positional peculiarities, 
of the more antique portions of Habby Simson's native 
village. Here, for centuries, the town furs were held ; and 
here stood " the auld croaa-atane," until it was overturned and 
destroyed, about thirty-five years ago, by some mischievona 
individuals. A friend of ours remembers the veuerable octan- 
gnlar pillar, with ita " ateps and stairs," on which the younkers 
of the neighbourhood loved to congregate, as their fethera of 
many generations had probably done before them. The 
destruction of this ancient relic, indeed, caused quite a sensa- 
tion in Kirkintilloch, and William Mnlr. alocal poet of no ine«o 
celebrity, who seems to have sympathized keenly in the gene- 
ral indignation, composed an elegyon the occasion, from which 
we shall venture to transcribe the following verses, as to many 
ofourreaders they will doubtless be AS good as manuscript : — 




In the Ticinity of the cross is the pariah church, which «m 
erected at a chapel to the Virgla Marf Id 1644. It it* 
plain but old-fashioned edifice vrith " craw-stepped" gtblee, 
and, like many other thiols in Kirkintilloch, is wnnewhU 
eccentric in appearance. At a considerable eleration on the 
edge of QUO of the gables li an antique Bun-dial, on whicti, a 
m old weaver who comes past as we are inspecting it Kaom 
Kg, " the folk Uageyne, before horologes were sae conunon, 
coald mat' out the time o' day to a minute." It would be 
no easy matter to do this now-a-daya, as the index is en- 
dently in a "ahugly" condition. There are Beveral other 
ptaoes of woriihip in the town, but arehitecturally they in 
not calculated to attract the attention of the strangn. 
Indeed, it muet be admitted that, on the whole, Eirkintilloct 
presents exceedingly few features of general interest. Ketr 
the centre of the town there are a number of handsome diopi 
and out-of-the-way atructureo, but in the bye streets tba 
honsea are of the plainest description, and the moDotop- 
ous sound of the ahuttle, which greets the ear at every Innii 
however indicative of useJul industry it may be, i 
does not tend to enhance their cbarma, or induce ns to ^ 
linger for any lengthened period in their precincts. As i» . 
other manufacturing communitiea, indeed, the populatiao | 
here have an intelligent and sagacious expression of counH* 

[iiiica, and we doubt not thai, did time permit, 
of characttir might be gtenned among these 

KirkiaUllocli is situated on tlic line of the ancient Roman 
wall close to one ol' the forts or peels with which it wns 
studded, and its name is supposed to be derived from a Celtic 
word Ccerpcnl'ilach, signif^itig a stronghold at the end of a 
ridge. Whatever wa may think of the etymology, this is 
certainly in accordance with the local character of the town. 
We now proceed to viat tlie Roman Fort, the vesljges of 
which, at a short distance west of the town, and on the same 
elevation, are still in an excellent state of preservation. 
During our devtoua peregrinations, we have several timea, 
(be out readers will donbtless remember) intersected the 
course of the gigantic bulwark which the self-styled masters 
of the world erected between the Friths of Forth and Clyde. 
We have also deBcribed the present condition of a number 
of the forts or stations. The Kirkiutllloch peel, however, 
baa the peculiarity of having been the only one erected out- 
ude or to the north of the wall which it was designed to defend. 
For what purpose this deviation from the ordinary rule was 
made we cannot now discover, but doubtless there were 
good reasons for the alteration of plan. 

The fbrtitications here seem to have been of extraordinary 
strength, although nothing remains now to indicate the 
circumstance, save the fosse or ditch, which continues, alter 
the lapse of so many ages, to mark with great distinctness 
the extent and form of the original structure. It is of an 
oblong quadrangular shape, measuring 90 yards in lengtl^ 
by 80 in breadth. A vast earthcoi rampart, from 10 to 5u 
feet in thickness, originally surmounted the present level 
platform on all adea, having in front the ditch or moat, 
which was not less than 30 feet in width, with a corresponding 
depth. Horsley mcDlions that in his time the peel pre- 
nnted the appearance of having been fortified by a double 
U of hewn stone; and adds that the stones had been 



■troDgl/ cemented with lime, and that many of tbem 
I'Uequerei] in the inatuier ueuitl with Roman arubiteclj. 
vestiges of this mafOD-work have noir disappeared, and ta.1 
the high rDOUod and the deep ditch, which are covered 
A dense verdure, nothing remains to indicate the prei 
existence of the Roman stronghold. A wetl, faced 
stone, however, still oceupies a portion of the fo^e: 
while we are lingering on the spot, a boy from the ne 
bouring town comes to fill his "stoups" at the very 
Irom whence the aoldiera of Antomae may have drawn 
Bune cool and crystal fluid nearly two Ihou.'iond years ago. 
Aa at other statiooB on the wall, relics of Roman art hi 
been tbund irom time to time in this locality. About S 
years since a legionary stone, measuring 5 feet in length 
about 2} in breadth, was dug up here. At each end i 
uarvings of eagles' beads and other forpaa of 
while in a central compartment there is an inscripUOD, wbi 
has been rendered as foUowa;— 


Thts tablet, which is broken in two, is preserved in tl 
Hunteriaa Museum. Another stone, with bulls* hea 
sculptured in bold relief, with a number of coins of Domitia 
Antoninus Pius, Commodos, and Constaatine, with a nut 
her of other articles, undoubtedly of Boman origin, we 
also discovered at this place, and are now deposited in tl 
collection of Mr. John Buchanan of this city. Many jei 
Sf^, while on this subject wa may add, Mr, Steww 
proprietor of the peel, who was then engaged in levellingl 
portion of the ground, brought to light numerous remiui 
ancient buildings, and found among them a largebar of 1 
marked with Roman characters, which were not sulSde 
legible, however, to admit of their being deciphered. S 
Jiloiia have been found at mMvy ovVet Bamio. stations, 
liiere can be little doubl i-ViA v.'tLia-wasa.T^iiK.tS.'Sisj'i 


VBTaders, who, thus far at least, were for a time masterB 
of our land. 

From the summit of the peel, as from the mujority nf the 
other Roman statioca on the wall, a commanding view of the 
surrounding country, with its fertile fields, its woods and 
waters, is obtained. To the west are seen the Bites of the 
various forts between this locality and Kilpatrick; while to 
the east, over the town, those of Auchindavy, Biirbill, &e., 
are -visible. North and north-west are the towenng 
Campsie Fells, the brond and beautiful stratha of the Glazert, 
and the Blane and the Kilpatriclt Hills, those everlasting 
ramparts which Nature seems to have reared for the defence 
of onr country's independence, and from the ridges of which 
onr rude sires looked down defisot on the haughty imperial 
legions. The Eomftn intruder has long passed away, and 
only in faint vestiges, tew and far between, are his footprints 
now discoverable; but the old brown hills remain, unchanged 
amid the riivage§ of time and tlie elements, osaodated with 
heart -stirring memories, which, by exciting in us an honest 
pride in our native land, form constant incentiTes to the lo'o 
of liberty. The period must never arrive when we shall 
think shame to look on the face of those stem old mountains, 
for the preservation of which from conquest our fathers so 
loDg and so successfully strungled. 

> Returning into Kirkintilloch, we rest onr shanks for a 
jfef space in the house of a friend, and taking advantage 
f4he pause, we may glance for a moment at the history 
1 town. Few of our Scottiali communities can baasC 
f Ugh an antiquity as Kirkintilloch. From the time of 
; has probably continued a place of soma 
nd BO early even as the year 1184 it was 
burgh of barony by William the Lion. In 
, as appe^ars from an ancient document, a certain 
1 of Tborald, who then held the manor of 
ritintilloch, granted the chuvch lo iVic mciaVa ol C.Msia«h- 
laetb, mth bait s carucatd of Utiii. tiSuet-nasia ■Coa 

384 sfiisniitLLOCB and CAXfsie. 

«(rtates pined into the possetsioD of the Fleming 
and in iLc third year of the reign of Robert the 
s charter, dated Aniele, 13th May, granla the "Vai«: 
Kerkentoloch to Gilbert Kenedy, grandson of Mile 
Fleming." James V. in 1526 ■' ratifies and approvia 
charter of new infeftment made by oar Soverene Lord to 
Malcolm Lord Fleming, makiiig the toane of Biggar and 
Kerfceotuloeh burghU of barony, with the mercat d 
punctis with arteklis after the form and tenor of the cait! 
charter of inftiflment.'' In the year 1672 William Enrlol' 
Wigton erected a bridge of three arches over the Lujrgie it 
Kirkintilloch. The new bridge was said to be "maisl 
secesanry and useful for the saifo passage of all persons wiiA 
travel fi'om Edinbro' and Stirling to Glasgow and Diimbu- 
ton ;" and the Earl, in consideration of bia outlay, vm 
empowered for five years to lift certain dues on ali honei 
and cattle which passed over the atructure. In 1745 i 
detachment of Highkndera, who came over the Campaie 
Hills by the Craw Road, were paaaing quietly Ihroo^b 
Kirkintilloch to join the Chevalier, when some persoD ud- 
prudently fired a gun from a bam window and killed one cf 
the party. Thin act of treachery natarally roused the m iif 
the Celts, who, with drawn sworda and the most borriii 
Gaelic imprecations, demanded the guilty individual to be 
immediately given up to their Tengeance. The authorities 
were aadly perplexed, being quite unable to find the «ii- 
cealed criminal, and a wild scene of pillage ensued. Every- 
thing portable was taken from the houses of the devoted 
iohabitanta, while the hungry Highlanders lived, as ^ ^ 
saying has it, at " beck and manger." Ultimately the kiltn 
marauders were induced to depart by the receipt of •bes')' 
fine. Afterwards, when the Chevalier's army 
return from England to the north, a rumour broke out 
town that the Highlanders were again approaching, 
aoane of indeaciibaWe panic mi wtoSmws™ vKKxsrtfA^feif 
one making off to some p\tt'ie oi WlBEKB^lo»IA-^il^^'^H.■ 



-or J 



valaable goods and cliattels. One old maa waa seen driving 
away hia cow with a chaff bed on its back, while others were 
observed with the most incoDgruous burdens. Fortunately, 
bowever, the reivers did not aguD appear; and when bettor 
times came the inhabitants were in the habit of langhing 
at the curious incidents which occnrred on the occasion of 
"the false alarm." 

Our oourae is now northward towards Cample, with old 
Walter, who " kens the road brawlie," for our guide. 
•' There is life in the old dog- yet," and, in truth, he strikes 
out at a rats which puts our vaunted pedestrian proness 
(airly to the test. On our complimeuting hioi, however, on 
his agility, he modeatly replies, " Na, na 1 I've seen the day 
ihare wasna moniewha could ha'e passed me on the road, but 
that was langsyne, and ye matinna par me believe that I'm 
anything extraordlnar in that line noo." " By the by, Mr, 
Watson," interposes our fnend, " what old edifice is that to 
the lell? It has renlly quite an intereating appearance," 
" Weel, I'll no say that it basna," quoth the old man pawkily, 
" bnt it's jist an auld washin'-house for a' that !" Of course 
we look perfectly onconscious, and there ia silence on the 
road for at least five minutes. It is interrupted by old 
Walter, however, on our arrival at a bridge, where for a few 
moments we come to a pause. '^Thia is the Kelvin," he 
remarked, "and if you'll cast your een doon the waters wee 
bit you'll see its meeting wi' the Luggie. They're baith 
geyan grumlie the noo wi' the gteepin' o' the lint ; but 
they're twa bonnie waters for a' that — at least they aye seem 

Follovring with our eyes the direction of our venerable 
guide, we see the junction of the Luggie and the Kelvin, 
about a-quarter of a mile to the westward of the bridge on 
which we are now standing. It is certainly one of the 
tamest water- weddings which we have ever been privi- 
leged to witness. The hymerveal scene \8 a. W^tV -^Vsisi. 
^ktaewbat Eaglisii ia its charaoler, oai (i^'j ■t'«&aa«*^ 


from dalhiess by the heighla of Kirldntillodi, which, i 
thdr ctet^ples anil houses, reall}' look exceedinglj well is 
middle di&tsuce. Both streama are here grim, glug^h, sni 
meliiiicholf — moving as if tbe^ had each the moat 
objections lo the impending union. "The course i 
love never does tud Kmooth " it is said, but here the cunedl 
is placid as can be. Of course (faeioference is obvious; 
ne could almost fancy that this omiooug "meeting of 
waters " is a fit type of those cold, loveless marriages, whidt 
nmk Bnd wealth too ol^eu make, but that wc have an af 
tion for the Kelvin, and know that after the honeymoo 
over, he and his mate, " dark but comely," will wax riglt' 
merry, and dance away through a certain classic grove «sit 
they had never known what it was to be sad. Old Wslte^ 
too, will have it that the Lu<;gie is at heart a cheerfot 
Btreaiu, and says that in the vicmity of his home it 
romantic and beautiful. "Sae, come ana' lads," li 
tinues, setting down bis etaff, " aud aa we movB alang I'ffi' 
even try to lilt ye a wee bit sang which I made shortsfne is 
ila praise." We resume our walk accordingly; and u 
thread the hedge-bordered way, half-screened by over-hi 
ing trees, the old biird in a low yet musical voice, en; 
the following sweet little lyric; — 


Ihn imuiiD of the LoRitlc, 


III bods bTL hiiae mi hmdln' m' mar, ' 

« of the singer thus dies awaj', and is of course 
echoed by "a very good song, and very well auog," from 
his delighted hearers. Yet are our words of praise any- 
thing but of the warmest. We never could administer the 
highly- spiued compliment face to face. Nay, we are apt to 
doubt the sincerity of the man who can do iL Speak as 
little ill as possible of a pi;rsun behind his back, and no more 
good of him than ia absolutely necessary in his presence. 

But hark ! the robin takes up the atraiu. Yonder he is, d 
perched upon the topmost bough of that tall ash, his breast 
almost lite a withered leaf fluttering iu the soft hreexe of 
song. We have praised thee to thy face, sweet minstrel of 
the aulumnul woods, and shall again and again. We love 
thee widely but nut too well, and it is " out of the fullneaa of 
the heart that the oiouth speukcth." Thou art a type of the 
true poet, even of him who " crooneth to himsel' " amid 
poverty, and want, and toil. Other birds requira the sun- 
shine and the flower to wake their musical utterances, but 
the drilling flake and the arrowy hail stay not thy song. 
Thou art, therefore, the imago unto our fancy of Buchbarda aa 
the old man now by onr ade (but who knoweth not our secret 
communioga with thee) ; and thou art at the same time the 
image of a class, at the birthplace of a humble member of 
which we are now arrived ; and thereiore, for the present, 
sweet bird, we bid thee once again farewell I 

Birdston is a tiny little village or hnmlet pleasantly 
situated about half-way betneeo Kirkintilloch and CatDpsie. 
It couEiats of a small coogregation of farm-houses and 
cottages, intermingled with kail-yards, bam-yards, trees, 
and hedgerows. '1 he September sun amiles sweetly on 
it DOW, with its blue curling wreaths of smoke, its fresh 
jellow stacks of newly-gathered tovn, and iw ^qvl^ <ii 
~»s/-cieeied bairna.^There am ftutVa ot ijuxiAi^ As'^i- 



ing RRioDg the stubble ; tlocko of {ngeooR, white and blue, 
cleHvinn the sir, or lettling on the boose-tops; sod flocb 

of swallows ftr over head, »portinir in the clear azure ^. 
Is it not in truth a pleasant spot i Well, it was down IliB 
qtiiet little Inne, in that cleanly little cot, in this tid)r IJttIt 
town, that William Muir, commonly called the Campu 
poet, first saw the light, on the Z8th of Kovember. 176$; 
and it was from that door, afler a Gingnlorl/ uneventful lift 
of fifty-one jeora, that he was finally carried to bis otfff 
home, in the clachan kirk-yard, — 

And it is very probable, gentle reader! that tbon 
previously beard so much even as bla name. Nor, after sit, 
does it matter very much. Yet William Mxiir wrote 
poems — some good, a few bad, according to our viei 
very many indifferent. Probably a modem critic, who jodgN 
only by rule, might find very lew of them altogether bait* 
less, Amid the chafl', however, then; ia a considenbla 

composition of poetry was the solace of his leisure hooB. 
It interfered not with hia industry, and we doubt nN it 
proved unto him, as to bards of more elevated 
" its own exceeding great reward." But it did 
than tbb: his poetry gave pleasure, and still gives pleMOT 
to his rustic compeers ; and, along with his amiabilily of 
character, it gained him the warm and lasting friendship df 
many estimable individuals in his own rank of life. Upw»rdi 
of thirty years have olupsed since hia decease; and w 
been both astonished and gratilled to find that his m 
is Htill fondly cherished in many bosoms. That he 
beat beloved by those who knew him best in life, is the mo* 
satisfactory testimony lo his worth as a man which ca 
mantioned over his grave ; and that such is indeed the 
we have many reasons for believing. Peace lo his ashes! 
He was one of a claaa of poeU 'v^iv^ u i^nu»& peculiar 
Scotland — a tlaaa ot wluc^i ajiy co*ia'i.T'j™L^i.t>^\«.ijti 

V He poems of WilJiam Muir were pnblisbfld in 1818 — the 
r subsequent to hia decease — wicb an introduction and a 
lief memoir of the nulhor Irom fbe pen of John Struthera, 
L poet of DO mean repate. The contents of the 
Uuiae, whicb must now bave been lono out of print, are of 
■omewbat miBcellaneous liescription, nod embrace a coQ' 
erable variety and range of topics. Some of tbe subjects, 
mdeed, might have been uprioH supposed beneath or beyond 
the reach of the muse. Swift boasted that he could write 
on instructive essay on a broomstick; but that is aii intellec- 
tual feat which certaiuly camiot for a moment be compared 
with the composition of a poetical address "Toa Bust; Nail." 
Hue tbe genius of Muir actually accomplished ; and msoy of 
liii productions besides are on equally incongiiious and im- 
practicable tbemea,— as, for inatanoe " To my Auld Bachlei," 
" Vorsea on a Weasel," " The humble Petition of an old 
Family Clock," " A Hymn to the Herring," and (evil to 
bim that evil thinks) " An Ode to the Itch ! " Unpromiiing 
u they may seem, there are some of these eubjecta treated 
witli oonsiderable happiness and tact. The rouae may even 
lundle pitch and not be defiled. Let us hear, in (estimony 
t Bf this b^tb, a portion of Muir'a hymn to the inimitable 
f* Glasgow Magistrate," — 



Id «1I tby TurioH ahupq mud fbnnL 

Fmh, Hit, or ret whin moK thon di; 

The WeliLmui'i •ppelite. 

" For Inrary » Iml • eheM. 

Duio Kftture ulu bat dn^ EDOkt, 
111 bsbll aU> Ibr nice. 

The majority of Muir's productions, howerer, are of 4 
terious and eeotimental cast; man}' of tbem also are deeplj 
tinged with despondency. Occaaionally, as in the aba« 
verses, indeed, we find him cheerful and contented mth iii 
humble lot, snapping his Jingere in the face of utucy Fortune, 
and defying her to cast him down ; but more frequentlj he 
is diiconBolate and murmuring. Altogether, we consiiiei 
the book a true reflex of the author''s mind, and feel per- 
suaded that it^ lights and shadows are truthful depictiotu {<1' 
those which in life dnrfcened or illumined the lowly destiny 
of the man. 

We are now entering the beautifiil valley of Campsii! 
The bold brown range of hills on our right seema as if it 
were approacliirg nearer and more near unto us. How 
sharply and iliatinctly is its picturesque altitudinal ontlinc 
defined against the dark blue dome of day I Every scar aad 
wrinkle on the rugged brae-face, too, is plainly seen, althoug'' 
the white torrent threads of winter are not yet. Even W 
this distance we could read a geological lesson, or find i 
sermon in stone, were we BO inclined, in those lofly and well" 
marked terraces of trap. There are scientilic stone-knapl 
in abundance about Carapsie, however, to whom every 
and cranny of these fells is familiar as a long-trodden i 
and meanwhile we will not poach on their manor, 
them " drill and bore the earth " as best they may, 
jrante at present lies on the aurfane. And see, how beanti' 
JuIIy intermingled ore iVc^^Xa ani Ava&si c«i.'&it\Kiyj*< 
the everlasting lulla\ "Oie \aa4acs.?Q "» Kjcc^wi"- -* 


} that irhich tbe old 
"The brldB] of the Mtlh ud dlr;" 

T baa its passing cloud," and there are deep 
pbral masses of gloom flittiog sileat and slow over tlie 
ngs, and paasiDg ever and ever away, Now the simbesms 
e aleepiDg on the heath, 

e doud-sh ado w steals over the spot, like avast stain ; 
3 when we lift up OQr eyes again, behold the place which 
mce shall know it no more for ever. How fill! of 
ore the shows and Ibrms of nature I Readeat thou 
wn destiny, O nianl in the living page before thee? 
B like shadows, eo depart; and this chase of aim - 
e and cloud ia but a type of that which joy and Borrow, 
B and pain, are ever pursuing in the world which 
h show within our own bosoma. ^t thou ia tbe sua? 
then bethink thee of the coming shade. 

Is thy present lot in gloom ? fear not that it will be always 
■0 — "joy trendeth on the heels of griel';" and oa old Walter 
has hopefully saJd, 

Pursuing our course we soon arrive at the village of 
Hilton. The Glazert, in a wild rocky channel, fretted by 
tbe floods of ages, here passes athwart tho road, and ia 
spanned by a substantial bridge. Kincaid printworks are in 
the viwnity of the village, and the streamlet is discoloured 
cousiderably by tho chemical matters thrown out here as well 
IS at I,6nnoxtown. But what of that? we love our own 
kind better than the kelpies ; and when we look around ut 
the oonifoTtable population teeming in the vole, we shonld 
reckon ourselvea the merest nincom^ooiji \S Tie MLXXatBili. ■i^t 
I'lUDteBt possible sigh over the decaj ot tii« ^\iA"4i^wp''>' 



pleasant little village seems MiKon, as we ^Ifi' 
poisatil, wbich is all Lbat we can do. baviDg Btill a coniiilai 
able portion of our day's work before us, and di 
'' the sin whidi doth moat easily beset us." 

At the base of the Campsie Fells, a short distance north el 
Glorat liouae (the seat of the ancient fnmily of Stii 
which is situated to our right amidst its finely tim' 
policiea, are the vestiges of two Calerlonian forts. TheM T 
interesting relicB of a long- vanished past are both circolsi b 
form, one of them being about 100 yards, and the other 
aboat 30 yards in diameter. In a direct line these anoant 
Btronnholds are nearly two tniles distant from the wall of 
Antonine. and it has been supposed that they were erected 
by the Caledonians for the purpose of checking the farther 
progress of the Roman legions. Our antiquarian fnead of 
the rail, to whom we have previously alluded, scouted, 
however, this suppoiitioo, and said that the conquerorj 
would never have permitted the natives to erect such placet 
of strength so near to their frontier. His opinion was that 
tJiey were Roman outposts, for the defence of fora^n;; 
parties when they had occasion to ravage the encmy'i 
territory. On this point we are inclined to differ ftom him. J 
The very erection of the wall wfls an acknowledgment It 
weakness. " Hitherto they could come, but no &rther;1!i 
and wu believe, besides, that they had eooagh t 
defending their acquisitions up to that line, withont ventui 
to make incursions beyond it. But in addition to this, it i 
well know:i that the forts of the Romans were unifom 
constructed of a quadrangular shape, while those of tl 
Britons, there is every reason to believe, were always o 
circular form. It does not necessarily follow, besides, t 
these places of strength were actually erected at all dor 
the period of the Roman invation, or with reference b 
From recent archsological discoverios, indeed, it is n 
exceedingly probable that tbey are of an age long antei 
i of thai event,. It ^oa \iA\iertn \i 


mumenttocH ako CAMrsre. 393 

tucli the fnaliion with antiquaries to aicribe everything 
ihistoric to the Dniids or the Homans, forgetting that the 
intiy WBE inhabited long preTiousI)' to tlieadviint of either, 
id that the aborigines may aleo have Isfl tbeii "footprints 
the sands of time." 

The valley or atrath of Campaie posaesses mwiy features 

~ the most romantic beauty. It is bounded on the north 

the towering and rugged Campsie fells, which rise to an 

ition of about 1,500 feet above the level of the sea; end 

the south by a gently swelling and fertile ridge, called 

South Brae, whieh in some places attfuns an altitude of 

If 700 feet. At the west end, towards the opening of 

[thblane, the vale is only about half-a-mile in widCfct but 

Inall;, ns it unfolds itself towards tlie east, it waxes 

Lore broad, until it is toEt in the spacious plains 

rand and beyond Kirtintiiioeh. The bosom of the valley 

)«f the most undulating description; now rising into gentle 

lUa covered with verdure, orplumedwith patches an<l belts 

'timber; now sniing into water-worn hollows and dells, 

" Wi' tlie bom AesLlEE jmiir ihe lan^ jrElldw bnxmi.'' 
non spreading out into fertile meads and Bunny slopes, 
the cattle in straggling groups are pasturing on the 
■tubbled ftuTOWS, or lazily chewing the cud. At various 
points the seats of the gentry are seen peering above their 
girdles of foliage, as if keeping " watch and ward " over the 
Kfttlered farms, which are strewn irregularly here and there, 
taA with its yellow cluster of corn-stacks, its thin dntap of 
■eh-trces, and its little curling cloud of blue smoke. The 
Mnth, altogether, has a cosie and secluded aspect, which is 
rendered ail the more pleasing by the contrast which its quiet 
beaaty offers to the stem and hoary gr.indeur of its wild 
battlemADt of fells, with their precipitous and scarred sides, 
thor jutting crags, and seemingly tumultuous though still 
tnd silent torrents of debris. 

The ugnificatiun of the word CampsiG has been a puxzle 

tS the e^mologista. " Even ministers they ha'e been 



kenned" to orriTe ttt very different conclusions on this in 
eating subject, Mr. Lapalie, a former well-known in 
of tlie pnrisb, for inGtaace, asserted that the name 
dBrived from a combination of CelUo words, sigoi^ 
crooked strath ; while Dr. M'Leod, formerly of Camj 
and now of St. Columba'a Church in this cil;, oa positii 
asseverates that it meana " a church in the bosom of nl 
Who shall presume to dedde when doclora differ? Am 
doctor? Well, then, we have Dr. Lee, a third inctun 
of the parish, who ailherea to Mr. Lapslie's ver^n bee 
M Ue SBVa, it is coriainly descriptive of the locality, audi 
pean. to have existed before any chnrch was erected in" 
plaO^' We do not know how Dr. Lee became a ' 

latter fact, as ho has advanced no evidence on 
but tilts we know, that Dr. M'Lccd is one of the best Gi 
scholars iii the country, and on such a snbject we sh 
inclined to back him against any Sassenach from 9 
tirk to the Lennox. Grant the correctness of hia etymf 
^cal deduction, and we shall have no difficulty in au| 
ft church long prior to the first of which Dr. Lee h 
account. Judging from hia name, we should suppose i 
present excellent uiiniater, Mr. Mnnro, to bo of C 
origin, and we should like to hear what constructiDn fae [ 
on the disputed word. Has he a theory of hig o 
lie treat such subjects with the cootempt of our oldfi^s 
Walter, who, in reference to the dispute 
claimed, " Hoot, awa' man, there's nano o' thera kess at 
about it mail- than you an' me. Sic menaeless discusdl 
aye mind me o' the auld rhyme, 

I,ecnostown, which may be called the capital' of ll 
strath, is an extensive village of modem erection, and It 
been in a great measure dependent for its growth ftnd pW 
purity on the various print-works, bleachlields, and factolli 
in tile vicitiity. It consists principally of one strcut, nluf 


18 of considerable extent, with a few irrc|dKr bfishoots and 
detached cottages. The houses are for ||p most part plain 
and of two storeys, without the aitij^|plC pretensions to 
architectural beauty. Cleanly, comfijfUle, and withal com- 
monplace in aspect, LennoxtowBi wpitt from the splendid 
scenery in its neighbourhood, presedlB but few attractions to 
the visitor. The only structure, -Indeed, of an imposing 
appearance is the parish churcti, a spacious modem Gothic 
building, with a handsome square tower, erected in 1829. 
It is finely situated on a gentle bnt commanding elevation a 
little to the northward of the main street, where it forms a 
pleasing feature in the landscape of the vale. Besides this, 
there are other two places of worship in the village, tmb., a 
United Presbyterian meeting-house, and a Koman Catholic 
chapeL The religious character of the population, it would 
thus appear, is not likely to suffer from a deficiency of 
church accommodation. For the educational requirements 
of the rising generation, Lennoxtown, we understand, also 
possesses an abundant provision. It has likewise an ex- 
cellent, and as we were gratified to learn, flourishing 
Mechanics* Institution, for the intellectual improvement of 
adults, by means of lectures on science, books, peri- 
odicals, &c. 

Being abundantly supplied with coal and other minerals, 
and water, Campsie s^ems to have been designed by nature, 
as a commercial gentleman once remarked of another locality, 
to be the seat of manufactures. As if in furtherance of this 
intention of the great mother, we accordingly find that it 
contains a considerable number of public works of various 
kinds. The most extensive of these is Lennox mill print- 
works, which are situated on the Glazert, immediately 
adjacent to the village. These were originally established 
in 1786 on a small scale. In 1805 they came into the hands 
of Messrs. R. Dalglish, Falconer, & Co., the present enter- 
prising proprietors, under whom they have gradually 
flourished and extended, until now they have attained the 



most gigantic pcoporiions, employ a 

hands, aud produw the most am&zmg qua 

calico. Talk of jaar ft^udal barone with HatSg ^ 

retainers ! How one of tiiGse old i 

would atare, could he be brought back to ^ 

"stsiling" of Mesars. Dalglish 8 ~ ' 

Kiouaid- field and Lilyburn- field also eaii^ 

workers, and contribute iBaterially t 

parish, which is further increased by the tc 

works of Measra. M'lntoah & Co., csUb1id)c4 j 

also by several bleachworks situated along t' 

course of the limpid Glazert. Formerly i 

number of weavers resided in Leimoxtowu and it 

but of late years tliey have become almost an extinct speMK 

while the monotonous music of the shuttle is now addom 

heard. This is a consummation, however, which, all thingi 

considered, there is but little reason for the philanthropist K 


With an acceasion of two to the number of our perty— 
one a veteran in the ranks of reform, a pioneer when Llber- 
aliam was anything but a joke, the other a genial and m 
intelligent young friend — we now bid l«nnoxtown ibr I 
time adieu, and proceed by an exceedingly pleasant p& 1 
towards the western termination of the atrath. The so 
sky of deepest azure, has crossed by a couple of degrees t 
least his highest altitude, and is wending slowly down ^ 
golden aftenwon. Warmed by his mellow radiance, a sn " 
is flickering even on the face of the grim and wrinkled ft 
which tower majestically to our right, as if the proud n 
stem-featured old giants were contemplatiog with p" 
the sweet and silent vole recumbent at their feet. SileaV4 
we say? then were we in error, for is notthe tnurmnroffl 
playful Glazert even now in our ears, aa, nnder the ti 
bling shadows of her sheltering trees, she steals in l^ry lif 
aiong. Now wo ha^e a ^nce ol \re,T A'^-^Vsi \vMMt, w' 
she jinks among her cliBimeVBto'Qca aaiS "m.-^-i-, «i&w 


IS in tliia dim rocess, wliere sbe lingers, a. 

iag beauty," with all her glittering beads of foam upon 

Ic brown bresst. How tlie leaves and flowera are 

1 if in love ( while one bold brier, be- 

1 irith blashing berries, etretches forth his fruited 

f he fion would clasp her in one long embrace, yet 

J make the attemptl "I'm aajm', frien'," quotha 

t onr aide, "if ye atan' glow'ring there at naething 

ny, I rather think ye'U no win up the glen afore the 

3 I fancy we had better be guun." With a 

anttered apology for our dilatoriness, we accordingly 


B South Brae now begins to clothe itself in a dense 
of foliage. Nor ia its vesture by any means 
^■"■crimpit," for acres and acres in richly tinted mosaea are 
mving in the breeze around its gancy breast; and see, 
T proudly over the far rustling sea of livmg green are 
tts loft? turrets of a stately edlQce. That is Lennox Castle, 
the Beat of John L. Eincaid Lennox, Esq., proprietor of 
exten»ve estates in the parish of Campsie, and the lineal 

(lepresentative of the three anient families of Woodhead, 
£nB^d, and Anlermony. He ia likewise said to be the 
Intimate heir to the Lennox peerage. This is a subject, 
bowever, on which our limited genealogical knowledge Ibr- 
Ms ua to descant. The magniQcent structure before us, it 
iriU be observed, is in the boldest style of Norman architec- 
lore, and wo may mention that it ia after a design by Mr 
Cnid Hamilton of Glasgow. Its erection was commenced 
in 18S7 and completed in 181L The aite, which is in the 
immediate vicinity of the spot where formerly stood the old 
hoilse of Woodhead, is nearly 500 feet above the level of tha 

tat^oining volley, ofwhichthe castle commanda on extensive 
' nd picturesque prospect, and to which it communicates a 
I Mriking feature of architectnral beauty. Near the entrance 
,te tile spacious policies, and withiix l\i(M \>o^Bii», ■iw ^Saassis. 
ntiBtb graaetally through a aweel 83\va,-a^o\'»a'a'j'i'*i^»''''^'*^ 



and receives two tributary streamlota in its boaom. One ol 
these is the Pu', a somewhiit slu^iab bum nhicii flows from 
the sduth-irest along the base ol' the South Brae, uiid tbu 
Finglen Burn, which tomes dancing merrily from the notth- 
wesl. The meeting of the waters is seen to great udvajitBge 
from an elegant little bridge a few yards within the galeniv. 
where we linger a few moments to feaat our eyes upon tbe 
quiet loveliness of thesceae. Our contemplations are broken, 
however, by the sound of approaching hoois, and glancing 
round we perceive two ladies on horseback cantering g^l; 
post, with their light veils and gracefiiUy flowing roba _ 
floating on the breeiu. Tboy form quite a delicious piotuni(:. J 
when taken in connection with the surrounding ftccessoiia I 
of woodland gkde, verdant lann, and proud baronial towaiK'V 
" Thae's the leddiea o' the castle," says one of our fii^ 
when they are tkirly past ; " and gude leddies they are, tM 
he continued. *' Led, man, tfaey had a' the Sabbath-Bdu 
weans o' Campsie up at the castle the ither week, and gt 
them sic a treat as some o' the puir things never saw befbs 
Nane o' your shabby affairs, but just as mickle aa the w 
creatures could set their faces tae. That's what I ca' bet 
leddie-like." Having given a hearty assent to the CO 
eluding proposition of our friend, accompanied by t 
expression of a wish that such kindly and consider! 
condescension were a little more common, we again resui 
our walk. 

A great gap now appears in the lofty (ells to the oorl 
the vast sides of which slope steeply down to a dark ii 
narrow ravine, which forms the far-famed Campsie Git 
Round the eastern shoulder of this magnificent opening li 
the lofty ridge, twines the " Craw Boad," faintly discemilj 
from our present position ; while on the pinnacle of d 
height, a little projecting heap is seen in relief against d 
sky. This we know to be "Criohtoa's Cairn," from haviS 
long ago speeledto its summit for the purpose of enjojin 
the citensive aud beautiful prospect whioh it conunani 



majority of caims have a myth or two attached to 
them, but no one nith which we are acqnalntod seema to bu 
so liberally provided for in this respect os the apecimen 
before as. Every individual almost to whom we epoke on 
the subject gave us a. difTerent version of the originating 
affdiT. According to one, the coim was erected in memory 
of a kind of local Hercules named Crichton, who having 
undertaken for a wager to ciury a load of meal to the 
hill-top, by dint of great exertioa accompliahod the feat, but 
fell down dead immediately thereaiter ; another would have 
it that Crichton was a famous smnggler, who was overtaten 
and killed by guagers on the elevnted spot alluded Co, and 
that the cairn was raised to perpetuate remembrance of the 
bloody deed ; while a third asserted, nithout a moment's 
hesitation, that the identical Crichton had committed suicide, 
by hanging himself on that lono peak. The latter, it mnst 
be admitted, is the most marvellons story of all; for unless 
an individual about to " lay hands opon himself," in anch a 
'■ heaven -kissing " locality, could manage to fling a coil over 
the horn of the moon, we really cannot see how this horrid 
purpose could be at aJ! eifected, a blaeberry-bush being the 
nearest approximation to a tree which he would be likely to 
find. Our &iend Walter's story seems the most ieasible. 
It b as follows:— "The way that I've aye heard it explained 
was this: There was ance a minister in the parish, awon'erlii' 
strong man, that they ca'd Crichton, that could walk, catiii' 
a pease-bannock a' the time, frae the mause at the Clncbivti 
to the tap o' the hill in twenty minutes. Noo, it'll tak' an 
or'nar body near the double o' that time. And the minister 
was sae proud o' his speclin' poo'ra that he used often to 
gang up and study his sermons there ; and as he was weel 
liket by a'body, when he dee't the folk bigget the cairn 
and ca'd it after him. That's the way I've aye heard it 
aocoQDted for; but whether it's true or no, I'ni sure t 
dinna ken." In corroboration of this slatemeut, we may 
that a minister named James Crichton was indjcted 





into the pariah of Campsie on the 23d of April, 1623, If 
Ebb was tho mdiTidual ollucled to, however, hia elevated 
study does not eeem to have been prodnctive of jrood frnit, 
as he was aiibaequentlj deposed for what was colled "cor7U{]t 
lioc trine." 

The clachan of Canipaie, at which we now ajrive, is aboBl 
a mile and a-half distant, in a, weaterly direclioo, from Len- 
ooxtown, and Uqb in a romantic eituation at the etnli'whurc 
of the KirktoD or Clschan Glen, of which it commuid] u 
benutilUl and highly aiiggeative prospect. The clai:ban con- 
sists of a tiny eongregation of housua, principally cottages, 
atragnliog as it were "at thrar own free will," and finelj 
intBTEpersed with gardens, trees, and hedgerowa A cose 
looking edifice, begirt with foliage, flowers, and fi-uiC, is 
pointed out to us aa the manse, and truly it seema, id the 
words of the old rhyme, " a pleaaant habitation." But even 
the very humblest of the biggins has an air of bdnness and 
comfort which is pleasing to eootemplate ; while the blue 
wreaths of smoke lioin eaub '4iim-head" are seen in fins ^ 
relief against the green bosom of the glen, which li 
bosky magnigcence beyoud. This handsome white I 
which seems to look a welcome as we approach, ii 
inn, where " man and beast," as the old signboards have ij 
may End abundant provender, with all the means and a| 
ances of creature comforts, oo the usual tern 
"Drink, pilgrim, fliint— drink ana pij 
A decent and a eivil old gentleman withal is the landlon 
Mr. Muir,* who is, besides, one of the few r 
temporaries and early aequwntances of Robert Enrns. 
Muir was bom and "brought up" on the farm a 
Mossgiel, when it was tenanted by the Bums Ihmily ; 
although he has no special tale to tell regarding < 
ploughman poet, who was then a young ma 


onRrNTiiLocn asd campbik, 401 

; hia diily work in the fielda, and occaEioiiHlly 
he sut at the ssrue bleeding fireside with him in the winter 
uveninga. It ia something even to liiive rubbed nleeves 
with Buma. The landlady, too, ia a douce, motherly 
looking woman, and the daughter an elegant and intelli- 
gent young lady ; so that he mnat be a partil^ularly fastidious 
traveller indeed who couIU not "take hia ease" in the 

But we are rother forestalling; for with a taste peculiar, 
we fancy, to ouTEeheB, we generally, niJeaa specially thirsty, 
visit the church-yard ofaplacebefore either inn orale-house. 
We accordingly pass Mr. Muir's hospitable door, and first 
seek the adjoining field of gravea. The gate is locked, 
however, and we must wdt for a minute till a deputation, 
composed of our venerable Lennoxtoi#n friend and old 
Walter, proceeds to a neighbouring cotlaga in search of the 
sexton. The man of spades is not to be found; but in bis 
stead we are speedily introduced to the "second grave- 
liigger," who ia well known in the locality as "David the 
Earl,"* and who approaches, key in hand, langbing and 
&dgin' fain, in anticipation of the drttm which be is about to 
earn. Davie is a stout robust apecimen of the genus honio, 
clad in day-browned moleskin trouaera and jacket, with a 
broad Kilmarnock bonnet overhanging hia tanned features. 
Poor fellow I his intellect ia for, for below the ordinary 
level of humanity ; his lack-luatre eye and frequent gusts of 
unmeaning laughter indicating bat too plainly the fearful 
vacuity within. "You'll let these gentlemen see the kirk- 
yard, Davie," says one of our fiiends, as they drtw near the 
gate where we are standing. " Ay wulla, ay wulla," is the 
instant reply, inaquiek, eager kind of voice; "but wull they 
gi'e me a dram, dae ye think? wull tbey gi'e me a dram? " 
Being assured that all is right on this point, Davie bursts 
uto one of thoee curious, arid cochinnations which seem to 


Hillow every sentence he utters, and at onee uelietB oe im 
the church -yard. 

A lovely spot, indeed, is that ia which the Campue di 
are I^d. It ia eniilosed fay an irregular up-and-down kini 
of dike, which accommodales itaelf to the inequalities oftlM 
ground. One comer of the spacious enclosore is oci 
fay tho ruined bdfry and a portion of the walls of tli 
clachan church, formuig a, prominent feature in the 
which meets our gaze. In the foreground, b 
seen the green undulations of long-departed humanity, ii 
mingled with the red graves of those who have receirit 
passed the dark faoume ; while headstones and monuaieni 
tablets of varied form and size — some old and n 
some fresh from the chisel — are strewn over and around tb 
area of death in picturesque confusion. Stately trees, n 
yet in the sear and yellow leaf, but clad in the dark gi 
ture of mid autumn, like sylvan mourners, stand mstfin 
around ; while sternly, beyond and above all, rise the 
ing sides of the glen — the everlasting hills echolnj 
re-echoing the voices of many waters. 

The literature of the church-yard baa always preaentedl 
dreary charm to our mind. If there e 
those of the grave ore certainly the most t 
pathetic There are no lessons that find their w>y R 
directly to tho heart as those which are inscribed on the i 
roof of that narrow house into the silent chambers of 'wi 
we must all descend. The clachan kirk-yard is p 
rich in this melancholy lore ; and wi; immediately proceed B 
scan a icw of its more prominent pages. Here lies BallO 
Antei-mony, one who travelled in many lands, and r 
to rest in the dust of his native pnrish. There are laid 6 
remuns of an individual who sacriiiccd his life at the a 
of duty, — one of that noble band who died, in dark si 
troublous times, to purchase the religions &eedom of the 
native land. Let us read the inscription on the " martjrl 
^Tave i " it contains all that we know of his sad stoi^ . — 






For his acDierence to the Word of God, and Scotland's Corenanted 

Work of RefbnnatioiL 

Underneath this stone doth lie 

Dnst sacrificed to tyranny, 
Tet precious in Immannel's sfght, 

fiance martyr'd for his kingly right 

Rer. diap. viL, Terse 14^** 

Honour to the memoiy of the Chnstian hero ! and may 
Scotland always find such in her hour of need! Passing 
oyer the intervening mounds, we find a weatherworn stone, 
iringed and partially veiled by the long grass, which, after 
brushing the encroaching verdure aside, we find to bear the 
following inscription : — 

** This is the bnrial-place of the Rev. Mr. John Collins. He was admitted 
minister of Caropsie the 2d of November, 1641, and the tradition is, that he was 
murdered in returning firom Glasgow about Martinmas, 1618." 

Thereby hangs a tale, which, firom tradition, we may con- 
dense thus : — Mr. Collins, minister of Campsie, during the 
period indicated on his gravestone, had a beautiful and a 
virtuous wife, the pride of his heart and the Ught of his home. 
The laird of Balglass, a small estate in the neighbourhood, 
conceived a guilty passion for the minister's fair lady ; but 
knowing fi*om her spotless character, that he had no chance ' 
of obtaining her affections while her husband lived, he, with 
the view of obtaining the gratification of his desires, resolved 
by violence to shorten the days of his unsuspecting pastor. 
Accordingly, when Mr, Collins was returning in the dark 
firom a meeting of Presbytery at Glasgow, about Martinmas, 
1648» he was attacked by Balglass at a place called *^ Lodge- 
myloons," near the outskirts of the city, and basely mur- 
dered. The body of the minister was found next day and 
conveyed home, when it was discovered that he had also 
be^r-i^l^ed of his watch and a small sum of money — a cir- 
ciimstaixee which tended to mislead the authorities into the 
belief that the crime had been committed by ordinary hi^h- 
wa^'men. No suspicion fell on ^a\^aca&\ ^Sii^ -^"sa. ^^\sNRk 


moDtha of inotirning had ebpsed, he appeared, 
exciting remark, as suitor far the hand of the besuteoiu 
widow. Ultimately, too, be giuaed her consent to ih 
and after a decent intervnl they were mmried— 
happily or not ve cnnnot tell ; hut the murderer and (lie 
innocent cause of his puilt lived thereafter for aevcrsl jeui 
va man and nife. At length the lady, on entering a piinU 
room unexpectedly one day, discovered Balglass a 
table, on which lay a watch, which she immediately knew U 
be that of her deceased husband. The fatal truth lUalieil 
on her mind oa she saw him attempting to hide the ei 
of his guilt, and she bitterly accused him on the spot of 
having murdered the objectof her early love. The wretched 
criminal, conscience -stricken, it is said, answered notaword, 
hut rushing from the apartment, left the house, aod ms 
" never beard of more." 

While one of our Campsie friends, with soitablfl giSTilJ 
of fiice and voice, furnishes us with the particulaM w 
thus briefly narrated, we form rather a curious group aronnd 
tbe murdered minister's grave. Sitting on a tombBtoae. 
paper and pencil iu hand, ia your bumble servant; at out 
side, and evidently grueing at the contemplation of ibe 
bloody deed and ita sad consequent^ is our facetjous fiiend, 
all truces of humour banished trom his expressive dee; 
leaning on his staff', and scanning the inscription at bis fe«ti 
stands old Walter, with our aecond Caoipsie friend ere« 
beyond bim ; while Bavie, bolt upright at tbe head of Hk 
grave, casts many a longing eye towards the ion, tsi 
every now and tben rubbing his bands as if in enjoyment 
interrupts tbe speaker with bis eldritch laugh, vrhicb foroiii 
strange incongruous accompaniment to tbe tragic narra^ 
" There's the banes o' a gude story there," quoth old Walttf 
when tbe speaker bad concluded. "And the materials of> 
good picture," adds another. " But vruUa get a d 
ye lliink?" chimes in tbe poor idiot, waxing impatient, isi 
again breaking into bis characteristic giggl 


■e many cariouBly- carved old stones in the clachan 
;irk-3-arJ, which would amply repay a leisurely inspection 
o any one who possesses, even in s slight degree, the tastea 
if Old Mortality, but time and space would fall ua, were we 
o attempt at present to describe a tithe of them. One 
urther specimen only we shall notice. It ia one of a pair 
reeled to the memory of individuals beton^ng to the 
.ncient family of Kincaid. This stone is m excellent pre- 
ervation conaidering its age. It is a quadrangular slab, 
he central portions of which are occupied by the armonal 
leorings and ijuarterings of tbe family, while around the 
idges is the following inscription : — " Heir lyis ane Honour- 
.ble man James Kinkaid of that ilk quha Desisit ye 9 of 
fanvar anno 1606." The other stone is almost a fac-aimile 
if this, but, of course, is to the memory of another personage 
if the same family. A few yards from these atones, and 
learer the centre of the ground, ts the grave of William 
kluir, the C&mpsie poet, without the slightest memorml to 
nark his "whereabouts." We have heard, however, that a 
nbacription is at present in progress, and we trust that a 
am EuDicient to erect a decent tablet to his memory may 
ire long be procured. The working men of Campaie do not 
ack spirit, and we have little doubt that they will cheerfully 
espond to an appeal in honour of one who was during lifi; 
m honour to their class.* 

The Buld kirk, as we have already stated, is now a com- 
ilete ruin. One gable, containing the belfry, and a portion 
)f the side wall, are all that now remain of the edifice. It 
las been originally, however, of the most diminutive pro- 
iiortions and the plainest style of church architecture. The 
Qeautiful situation ui which it ia placed, and the iuterestiDg 
iiBsociations with which it is entwined, ulone render it 
^tCrnctive to the visitor. An old bell suspended in the 
belfry is only lolled when funeruls are taking place in the 


aiijacent ground. " Lot tho gentlemen hear the bell 
Davie." bhjb one of onr party, to try the fidelity of m 
unfortunate pompanioo. "JIiv, na," be replied, "tber(! 
nae burial." Nor could even a promise of the corMe 
(Ifam bribe him from whut lie considered his duty. 
Davie! we have known man with many, mwiy t 
as compared with thee, who could not have resisted (1 

Leaving the Hrt-yard, and having persuaded oor «ni 
friends to seek the hospitable shelter of the inu until o 
return, and having g^veu them strong iojuucticinB to i 
member " Earl David," we now proceed to thread the mu 
of the glen. For this purpose we cross the foaming Glazn 
by a convenient bridge, and, passing a. rustic stile and I 
small bleaehfield on the opposite aide, soon find oursdvesn 
a pleasant footpath, amid the lliukering shadovrs of ct 
tall and stately beeches which stand like sentinels at ill 
entrance of the ravine. These sylvan ^ants, we ma; mi 
tion, are said to have been planted on the occadan of i 
union of Scotland and England. The channel of the etra 
at this placa is " beautiful exceedingly ; " the brown wit 
rushing fretfully over a series of shelving rocks, which fin 
with their intermingling tints, a sort of natural mosaic, IsS/ 
produce a most pleasing eilect as ilie slanting sunbdunfi 
play amid the dancing wavelets. Advancing a short iH 
tance, the Glasert b seen tumbling in foam over n (Jny CjUIi 
and rushing hurriedly away from the rugged pass domt 
which it hna just been precipitated. Tho path i 
amid tangled steeps and overhanging clifis, tram wluch tbff' 
tortured stream is seen far below, turning und ti " ' 
roaring, as with frightful velocity it dashes over and arotUN 
immense masses of rocks which seem determined to rcia™ 
its downward progress. As we proceed amidst a proflwO" ' 
of ferns and wild flowers, the banks wax more lof^i ^'t 
become clad with a dense lu.iuriance of foliage. Noww* 
pass a frail wooden bridge, and are in view of Crai^e LinUi 


Nirliich is about fifty feet in height. The water — that of a 
small tributary to the Glazert — with a kind of hissing din, 
keeps ever straggling down the face of a dark precipice, in 
threads of silver whiteness, and falls into a craggy gully 
below. The recess in which this fairy cascade is situated is 
"^d in the extreme, and were the waters in greater volume, 
"Would form a fine picture subject. Scrambling on our way, 
"We arrive at a projecting comer where there is a seat, firom 
which a splendid prospect is obtained of the lower portion of 
the glen. A deep chasm, bosky and rude, slopes steeply 
away at our feet ; beyond is the wood-fringed and shadowy 
hollow of the ravine, revealing a spacious landscape in the 
distance, which is basking quietly in the rich amber radiance 
of the evening sun, and forming a dazzling contrast to the 
green gloom in which, amid rocks and trees and roaring 
iraters, we are enveloped. 

M'hile lingering at this " coigne of vantage," scanning the 
picturesque scene before us, our attention is attracted by a 
fair-haired maiden, coming sauntering up the glen with a 
baby in her arms and a train of toddling wee things behind 
her. Across the ricketty bridge she trips, and now a little 
lassie ^ves her hand to a tinier brother, and assists him over 
the ledgeless structure. One false step, and destruction 
yawns for them in the gulf beneath. They seem perfectly 
unconcerned, however, and in a minute or two they are at 
our side. We inquire at the girl if she is not afraid to ven- 
ture on such a dangerous walk in company with children, and 
are answered with an ^^ Oh no I the bairns are quite weel ac- 
quentit wi* the road, and naething wrang has ever happened 
to ony o' them." We think, as we see the red hips of the 
brier overhanging the precipitous banks, and tempting the 
little hands to pluck, that it is really a marvel ^^ something 
wrong " has not happened. One of our friends, who hke 
ourselves has bairns at home, seems to be of the same 
opinion, and fumbling in his pockets, brings forth a handful 
of ^^ sweeties" and distributes them asiiow^ V}s\a ^^SoSis.^ 

Mutiful cascade next meets our gazo, the 
sheet lenping over n barrier of rock, appai 
litlecn feet in height, with a roar that keeps th 
constant state of activitj' and the overhangin 
a censeieM tremour. Moving onward and upw 
bridge ie seen spanning the gulf, and we aoon 6 
leaning over its ledges enjojing the rich snatcbe 
which it commands. Another fine linn occurs 
aboTB the structure, which haa evidently buen 
the purpose of enabling -viflitors to inspect the 
the most advantageous point. The height of t 
appearance, about the suine as that which w 
mentioned. It is also of one leap, and the 
precipitated into a deep, dark pool, which is 
foambella that are ever rising in myriads to the 
theyiranity of the bridge the path cornea to an a 
nation at the base of a considerable precipi 
gurmonnted, however, by a rude kind of atair 
denominated " Jacob's ladder," up wliich we 
aeranibio without much difficulty. This is rather 
ascent &r ladies, however, and many are the } 
of lovers wlio have been brought to a 
that old tree mhich overlooks the spot y 


t weiM 



LoweBhoe character of its vast American prototype, and 
it possesMs a Babnijuaous cavity, by muuns of which the 
iDtnroug visitor can paes nnscathed beneath the falling 
pnL In the bed of tbe stream, a few yards below tile 
ade, rises a ponderous mafs of trap, surmounted by a 
h of verdure pranked with gowans ever '"wat wi' dew." 
mding this natural altar, the view is indeed lovely; and 
e we are revelling in tbe varied beauties which it on- 
I, one of our little bsnd, inspired by tbe genius loci, 
its out into Luther's sublime hymn, in which we all jna 
, a fervour which makes the old gray roeka to ring, and 
}st drowns, for a time, the hoarse unceasing voices of tbe 
ract. Soon our strain comes to an end, however, and 
"never-ending, atill-ben^nning" music of the stream 
ands as bcfiire to the passing breeze. A^es on ages ere 
Vw the light has its dreary cadences betn heard in this 
H^kot \ and when tbe place which knows us now shall 
r forgotten us for ever, still "morning, noon, and night" 
I the roar of its troubled waters ascend to the everlast- 
hiUs. In the words of tbe old song, 

■■on. _we have wsndoroa (Ur and wlrto 

sever within the sajne compass have we witnessed any- 
l superior, in wild romantic beauty, to the glen through 
h we have now passed. Taking its features separately, 
enow that tbey can, each and all, be surpassed in many 
oces; but in combination, as we find them, our ex- 
iDce can produce nothing at all comparable to Campeie 
I. If we have any fault, indeed, to find with this 
□e and favourite haunt of the benutilii], it is lliat there 
o little of it, und tliat its charms are too soon exhausted. 

deficiency may be to some extent supplied, however, 
, visit to its twin, the Fin Glen, which lies about half-a- 

to the westward, lliis delightful ravine possesses a 
tcr volume of water Ihnti the Clachan Gltn, and br.s 


two picturesque cascades. They are often talked of as 
rivals, but under the circumstances '* comparisons are 
odorous," to use the words of old Dogberry, and we 
prefer to consider them as lovdy sisters. . 

Retracing our steps down the glen, one side of which is 
now in sun and the other in shade, and we, as has been too 
oflen our lot, on the side of gloom, we soon arrive at the inn, 
where we find our good old friends engaged in a "three- 
handed crack," and not altogether a dry one, with the 
landlord, Mr. Muir. Nothing loath, of course, we join them, 
and spend an hour or so right pleasantly. We then return 
to the hospitable house of our friend at Lennoxtown, where 
the gudewife gives us a warm reception —pouring into us, 
indeed, both ^^ canister and grape" (if on such an occasion 
we may borrow a phrase from poor Tom Hood), m well- 
directed and fast-succeeding discharges. Of course, alter 
doing our best, we are at length compelled to capitukte, 
and cry aloud peccavi. 

Our homeward course being over the same ground which 
we traversed in the early part of the day, we now don our 
" seven-league boots," with the aid of which we speedily get 
over the ground, and find ourselves, sometime within the 
bounds of what are called " elders' hours," either in or on 
the Globe at George Square. 




The name of Wallace, the great Scottish patriot, has ever 
been held in the highest esteem by the natives of the country 
for whose independence he fought. Indeed, there is some- 
thing approaching almost to adoration in the feeling with 
which the memory of the " Wallace Wight" is universally 
regarded among the population of Scotland. At the winter 
ingles, over the length and breadth of the land, when the 
tale and the song go round the glowing hearth, there is no 
story so welcome as that which recounts the superhuman 
exploits of the peerless knight of Elderslie, no lay so accept- 
able as that which does honour to his prowess^ The place 
of his birth — the hiding-places in which he sought shelter 
from his foes — and the battlefields on which he fought and 
bled, are all regarded as hallowed spots of earth by the 
patriotic peasantry, who point them out with honest pride to 
the admiration of the stranger. Long pilgrimages, too, are 
made expressly for the purpose of visiting such scenes. 
Every one will remember that fine passage in the autobio- 
graphy of Bums, wherein he describes the effect which the 
reading of " Blind Harry's History" had upon his youthful 
mind. " The story of Wallace," he says, " poured a Scottish 
prejudice into my veins which will boil along there till the 
fiood-gates of life shut in eternal rest." In another place 
the poet tells us he walked a goodly number of miles on a 
Sabbath day to visit the Leglen Wood, which, according to 
the rhymed chronicle alluded to, had on one occasion afforded 
conceahnent to the Scottish hero aiid\)^ (iQm^^\crck&\ — 


"^e to Iho Lw-lini Wooil nhm U -viai bte, ] 

" 1 explored," he snys, ■■' every den and dell where I coii!ii 
suppose my heroic countryman to have lodged, and I recolli*:i 
(for even then I wB9 a rhym&r), tbat mj heart glowed «i 
a wish to be able to make a song on him in come measu 
equal lo hit merits." Tannahill also eadeavoured to 'ii 1 
honour in song to ibe memory of Wallace ; and Campbell, J 
who was born almost on the very spot where the hero ai- J 
coiuiterud and vanquished the Southrona in ourownHi|li| 
Street, composed a dii-jre of deepest patiioson his melanck^ I 

Within the scope of thuse rambles there are several sc 
associated by tradition with the memory of 

Elderslie, the place of hia birth, lies within the compass oTn 
forenoon's walk from the Cross of Glasgow ; and one of lis 
battles was fought on " the Bell o' the Brae," withia Bgbt 
of tiie same spot. Blantyre Priory, a few miles up tlie 
river, is said to hove witnessed one of his most remariwble 
mcapes from ruthless Southron hands. At Itutherglen kitl^ 
Sir Aymer de Tallanee and the " feuse Montoith " 
his capture ; and at Bobro^-ston, -where we now propoH h J 
guide ouF readers, "the deed of shame" was finally M' 

The sun of a sweet autumn morning, emerging fr 
veil of chilly mist, flings ita broad streams of yellor 
intcrminnled with ihe huge gniy shadows of die ti 
lines of building, atliwart the place 
"King \VilIiam." On these "plaii 
aristocratic Virginia merchants of other days ; in the shsd 
of tbat edifice, with military pride erect, marched AiU d 
" Captain Paton " of Lockhart'a inimitable ai 
Even now we can almost picture to the mind's 
genial old martial beau, who " left the Saltmorket ii 
grief, and woe." 


" His waistcoat, coat, and breechoflb 
Were all cut off the same web. 
Of a beaatifol snuff colour, , 
Or a modest fcenty drab ; 
Tbe bine stripe in his stocking 
Ronnd his neat trim leg did go* 
And his mfBes of the cambric fine 
They were whiter than the snow,— 
Oh! we ne'er shall see the liJke of Captain Puton no mo'& 

**His hair was cnrled in order 
At the rishig of the snn. 
In comely rows and buckles smart, 
That abont his ears did mn: 
And before there was a tonpee 
That some inches np did grow ; 
And behind there was a long qnene 
That down his back did flow,— 
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e.*' 

But the Captain has long gone " the way we all must go," 
and is sleeping the last long sleep in the shadow of the old 
Cathedral, not in that of the ** Ram's-horn Kirk " as the poet 
imagined. The place where our merchants most did congre- 
gate, too, is now deserted by the great ones of the city, 
who, Tnth the rising fortunes of the community, have gradu- 
ally moved towards the west. Our modem Bailie Nicol 
Jarvies are no longer to be found in the classic purlieus of 
the Saltmarket, which is now entirely resigned to folks o' 
laigh degree. The glory has in truth departed from this 
andent thoroughfare. But here comes our two companions, 
with stick in hand, prepared for the road; one a clever 
young artist,* on a visit from the great metropolis; the 
other an old and dear friend, whose name is associated in 
our mind with all odorous things, he being familiar with all 
manner of plants, *^ from the cedar which groweth on Leba- 
non, even unto the hyssop which springeth from the wall." 
By many a flowery, many a leafy tie, are our affections in- 
terwoven ; and many, many a sweet memory of woods, and 
fields, and streams, and marshes, have we as common pro- 
perty. Our morning salutations over, we wend our way up 
the crowded and withal repulsive High Street. Here, to 

* Mr. William Simpson, who has since achieved distinction as the limner 
of the Crimean War. His inimitable sketches of the late seat of war, and of 
its principal eyents, have won the approbation eqnally of the soldier and the 


HOTIftOTfftOWi A'UUH IB WWW, "A^^''€nrtTi'rtW: 

" Life DramB" of our yi 

Kn anJ misery are indeed lo be seen here in lootbeitiH 

Squalid motherE are peeping &om closes with m 
and fillhj Utde chilJrec, whom it is a pain to look npoiL 
StrBii<:^ glimpses of the city's hidden life are obtained s! 
puss the noisome vennels; and while we tliink with pitying 
horror on the wretched denizens of these dim and i 
defiles, we hurry on with grateful feelings, that, howera 
humble our way of life may have been, our lot has hitherto 
at least been cast in comparatively pure and pleasant pi 
Yet in several respects this is the most interesting street ii 
the city. In picCuresquenesH of aspect it has no rirnl, irhilt 
it is rife in objects of antiquarian, literary, and hititt ~ 
interest. Every here and there the eye is attracted bydioi 
fine old edifices with peaked gables and crowstepe which ■ 
gratified Sir David Wilkie when he visited our ci^, t 
which ao forcibly recall to raind the grandeur of other daytt 
What a noble old pile is the University, with all its glorioiK 
memoriesof thepust I What ahost of illustrious names co 
crowding to our lips as we gaze upon its venerable front, oS 
tread with reverent steps its echoing courts 1 Divines, phiP 
osophera, poets, and statesmen, whose names the world w 
not willingly let die, have passed and repassed beneath thi 
grim portal. It was in the High Street of Glasgow that Adu 
Smith gave law to nations ; that James Watt madi 
improvements on the steam-engine which have increased I 
thousandfold the productive power of man; and it w 
the hard of Hope Grat saw the light of that world which hk 
genius has since so much delighted. '^The Bell o'the Bme' 
has hoard theclashof that terrible sword which preserved tin 
independence of Scotland Irom the yoke of the strangi 
in its vicinity, during the infancy of Queen Mary, the din Q 
uivil mr luhered dettmclicm to the "gudcs and gear" M 


^Ur fathers. It waa at the foot of the New Vermel, nqar 
the Infantry Barracks, that the "battle of the Butts," to 
^hich we allude, took place. In this encounter the citi- 
zens, under the command of the Earl of Glencaim, were 
totally routed by the troops of the Regent Cardinal Beaton, 
and about three hundred of them slain. Immediately after 
the battle the victors ravaged the town, carrying away every- 
thing portable even unto the doors and windows of the 
houses. This was a sair day for Glasgow, and was long 
remembered with horror by the inhabitants. It was in the 
College Green adjoining that Sir Walter Scott, in the novel 
of Rob Roy, represents the cousins Osbaldistone as having 
met in deadly combat, when the bold outlaw interfered to 
prevent the efiusion of blood. 

We must not linger in the city, however, as our peculiar 
field lies principally beyond its precincts ; otherwise materials 
for an interesting volume might be gleaned in the thorough- 
fare through wluch we are passing. Higher yet and higher 
we ascend, until, leaving Drygate Street and Bottenrow, 
with their antique edifices fast disappearing in the march of 
civic improvement, we reach the fine esplanade at the sum- 
mit, where the grand old Cathedral, stem and gray, stands 
in solitary dignity like a vast shadow of the olden time. 
Even here, however, we must not give ourselves pause, but 
in pursuance of our prescribed route, pass the Royal Infir- 
mary, the Blind Asylum, and that great mineral depot, the 
basin of the Monkland Canal. At this point our attention 
is attracted by a monumental tablet in the wall, which skirts 
the way, erected to commemorate the death of three indivi- 
duals, who suffered for their adherence to the Solemn League 
and Covenant in the days of persecution. Although of com- 
paratively recent erection, the inscription is so much defaced 
that it is scarcely legible. We read it, to the best of our 
ability, as follows. The metrical portion, it will be seen, is 
sufficiently rude : — 


1.1 UU^ 

April, 1819." 

^GalDqt bU tbew mfflfuu' peTJary- 

Tba Biill^li Tn]Grs mhde saeb tawA, 
Aa Brll.ln lyps tn gqUe. yijn Bee, 

renewed by the proprleloTB of the . 

□DUjIDII Nfi*f^ftlEI' 

This spot was rormeriy known as the Howgate-head, and 
the authorities deemed it prudent to have the three Cove- 
nantere above named executed here, which naa then sow 
distance out of town (rather than at the cross, where tbefe 
afiairs usually took place), with the yww of escaping Ae 
maledictions of a sympathizing crowd. The case of JsmH 
Kiabot was one of a peculiarly painfiil nature, and nmy wiJI 
be euppoBftd to have excited public iiidignalion agiunEt tlie 
powers that were. Accordbg to old Wodrow, who has 
rescued from oblivion the iiami>j of so man;- of these trulj 
brave men who suffered a painful and ignominious deatli 
rather than renounce their faith at the bidding of a corrnlt 
government, Nisbet was a farmer in the parish of Loudon, 
Although under proscription for his principles he ventured 
to come to Glasgow to attend the funeral of a IrieDd «bo 
hod perished on the scaffold. In the church-yard he wtf ■ 
recognized and apprehended by a trooper, a cousin -gennsB f 
of his own, who carried him before the authorities. On 14 1 
trial he manfiilly declared his approbation of the Bkiriuisb if 
Urumclog and the more serious affair at Bothwell Bridg ' 
In those "killing times" this was reclianed c 
eient for death, and the brave Covenanter was i 
si;ntenced to suffer the extrenie penalty of the law. Be « 
offered hia life, however, if he would acknowledge the K" 
as bead of the Church. This he had the fortitude tt 


) CHRYSTON. 417 

Bid the aentencc was iii consequence mercilesslj- curried intu 

Ilia bodj' was iDterred at tlic place of execution; 

I oflertiaes the spot was marked by a rude tablet, 

BChich was removed by the Canal Company while their 

■e Id pri^rese, and replaced by the present stooe, 

now, sa we bava remarked, becoming sadly dita- 

I Turning to the right, we now pursue oar way In an east- 

d direction over Garo gad -hill. From the Bummit of this 

!, looking to the south, there is a very striking view 

if the Cathedral, with the dehle of the Molendinar, spanned 

y the "Bridge of Sighs," and the swelling declivity of the 

Hecropoiis, crowned hy the grim and colossal statue of Scot- 

bo<i'B great reformer. This is certainly the moat command- 

5 poation from which the High Church can be viewed, 

^d, with its romantic accessories, it would furnish abundant 

Kt^nal for a good picture. Notwithstanding the proz- 

pity of the great city, which dims the autumn sky with its 

piopy of smoke, there is even a dash of wild nature along 

B glen of the Molendinar, which awakens dreams of the 

a and distant era when Sanct Mungo dwelt in it9 bosky 

e sooty triul of the tall chimney, however, is over all; the 

i havo fallen into an untimely sear, the very herbjige on 

the slopes being sadly discoloured; while the good old patron 

I he coming to life again, would doubtless be 

ofolly surprised at the pollution which has lallen upon his 

ream, and would be amply justified in doing 

Eiat the poet wickedly hints he did at any rate, — 

^ The Fir Tark and the bonks of the Hlolendinar, as well 
a considerable expanse of the surrounding country, were 
one time covered by a shadowy tract of forest. A 
rnidical grove, indeed, is auid at an cuily period to have 

418 EOBRovaTox, acchim.ocu, aso ciruYSTOS. 

crowned the brow of the hill, wherein mj-atic riles anliol; 
were peribnned by the hoary priests of liaaL At a. a> 
ijuent period, tradition aeelgns this gloomy sylvan vale ai 
scene where Aymer de Vallance and Menteith me] 
appointinent inunediately previons to the treacberoas sazoH 
of Wallace at Robrojston. If so, the dastard pair o 
have parsued a route aomewhat similar to that upon yil 
we now resume our walk. 

For a mile or eo la this direction the country pos 
but few attractions, Hera anil there we obserre i & 
mimstona which have seen better days, but which general 
have now a dreary and deserted aspect. "" 
smoke from certain works in the northern quarter Dfth 
rity, notwithstanding their gigandc chimney's, 
thrown a. blight over the face of nature. The trees are fil 
the most port abrivelled nnd sapless, while the very wheitQ 
the fields and the hedgerows by the wayside lack that fr 
ness of verdure, which is so grateful to the eye in regiom d 
greater atmospherical purity. Our botanical friend <!l 
scarcely recognize his fiorul favourites in the dwarJed an 
discoloured specimens which look up so piteously from ill 
ground ; and the miin of art, all accustomed as he is I 
London vegetation, looks askance upon the miserable sjItM* 
which skirt our path. As wo advance, however, the i 
plexion of the landscape gradually improves. The ragweed 
brightens into purer gold, the eyes of the dtosy was d 
and more clear, while the downy locks of the thistle, from M 
dingy gray, become white as the virgin snow. As we lift oj 
our eyes, too, "behold I the fields are already white 
the harvest;" and hark! the soAi trickling notes of 
redbreast, sweetly, sadly swelling on the gale the symphoiq 
of the waning year. 

"This is the little hamlet of Provanmill" is the repl 

which we make to a question with which our friend H 

, I'eneil interrupts our musings, as we approach a few houai 

ffi'iilttrgd ou eithur side of the way. This tiny lownsh^ 


Its principally of a " meal-mill" and a miller'a house, 

Irith the uaual pleaaing Bccompanimenta of poultry in capital 

[mdition, and Tosy-cbeeked children frisking about the loan. 

IB also a cart-wrigbt's establish men t, aa you may 

a by a glance at these bright- coloured carts without 

pIieelB Btrewo helplessly about on the ground, and these 

l^nally gaudy whceU without carta, which are lazily leaning 

llgainst the wall. Here, too, is a amiddy with Biirnewir. 

uiding begrimed at the door, on which is nailed a gym- 

^lic horseshoe, while a stout country lad stands holding 

', patient-looking Clydesdale by the halter. A. little 

ler on is the village hostelry, which is of somewhat an- 

t standing, if we may credit an inscription above the 

r, which would certwnly have driven the late Mr. Lennie, 

ratnmatical celebrity, distracted, if he had ever chanced 

ome this way. Some local Dick-Tinto baa delineated oa 

lO signboard a rude portraituro of the house on which it 

"liBngs ; the said hoyse, in the pride of its heart, on having a 

covering of slate substituted for ita original tbatoh, being 

supposed to address the passing stranger in the following 

mellifluouB linea, which we copy verialim, capitals and all: — 

"I hen ao Stand ona HDodiad yean 

Pss^ng Provanmill about fifty yards or ao we turn off 
to the northward by a narrow country road which croaaes 
the Caledonian Eailway, on which a train is dashing furi- 
ously past as we approach. One moment there is a msh- 
iog noise in our ears and a lengtheneil mano of snowy 
whiteness floating on the air, and the next all is quietness, 
while the clondlike train of steam remains a moment white, 
md then is seen no more. Our flower-loving friend is now 
in all his glory, poking and prj'ing along the vcfietable fringe 
L that skirts the path. Every now and then we are startled 



420 RoBBoraTos, ACCDiKi.ocn, i 

bj hie extlamations of delight, as some Bpecimeo of mow 
thun ordinary beauty meets his gaze. Nor is bis atteElion 
iJevoted altogether to the fair children of Flora. Now he 
directs our admiring ejes to some ricbly-ttnted moth or 
butterfly, nith coat of many colours, all of whom he scemE 
to know by name ; and anon he picks up strange shells with 
curious markings, and creeping things, which we pretend to 
admire at bis suggestion, although the very »ght of them In 
reality makes us " grue and scunner." Odd fellows, I trow, 
nro these same naturalists, with tbeir " books in tbe runaing 
brooks," their " sermons in stones," andall that sort of thing. 
But nnw our friend has found aoms extraordinary prize, antl 
culls ns loudly to bis side, that we may share in his rapture. 
" What a beauty we have here!" be cries, as we approatb; 
and hastening forward we find in bis hand— fwhat dost thoo 
think, gentle reader? but we need not ask tbee, for thou 
wouldst never guess) — why, us we live, a huge bloated toadl 
OfcoursQ wo ahriuk back in disgust; but that won't satisO' 
our phiioaopliical friend, who talks coatetnptnouEly af igno- 
rant prejudices, aud ultimately wins us to bis side agiia, 
with a quotation from the great dramatist, about the tM^ 
ugly and venomous, having ajewel in bis head. Wcvt^aturu 
at last to gaze wicb the air of a connoiEseur upon tbe pant- 
ing Batrackiaii, as we think he calls it, and pretend to ew 
great beauty in the eye of the animal, which be explftin^ 
ia the "jewel" alluded to by the immortal dear- atealur, A 
full, true, and horribly particular account of tbe monster's 
habits and mode of living is next inflicted upon us, when 
the loathsome creature ia at length, to our infinite riSti, 
permitted to crawl away, 

A (short distance beyond tbe railway bridge, the roiil 
passes over a gentle eminence, from which an exlen*'*' 
prospect of the surrounding country is obtained. To 
north-west the swelling range of the Kilpatrick Hills ii 
fitretcbing away into the distance, with the vale of the 
nox, and, in the gap between the Campaie Fells and 


noanoTSTOK, ACCHmiocn, akd chbyston. 421 

heighla of AuchinedeD, BcDloraond towering far avrny on tho 
liorizon. Imroefliately to tie left is the loch of Rohrojston, 
which, to horrow a Hibemianism, ie really no loch at all, 
u its waters have been nearly all drained, and wbnt remains 
of ttem is overrun with rank vegetation. This was at one 
time, however, a considcrahle sheet of water ; and we remem- 
ber well ivhen it wns frequented by bands of juvenile anglers 
from the city, who came out with, rod and line to &h for 
the pike and the eels which abounded in its weedy depths. 
A large portion of its ancient basin is now under crop and 
pasture, and there is every appearance that it will soon be 
brought entirely tinder the supremacy of the plough. A fir 
wood partially surrounds the spot, and gives it a peculiarly 
dreary appearance, which is heightened by the melancholy 
murmurings of the breeze in the dutky raaases of foliage. 
Aa we pass along the eye is delighted with a succession of 
beantifiil autumnal features. Among the tall ferns, which 
shoot out in luxuriant tuftafrem beneath the hedgerows, the 
berries of the trailing bramble are seen in large clualere, 
varying in hue from the brightest red to the most jetty black, 
while the blush ia waxing deeper on the tawny hipa of the 
i, and the haws are strewn like drops of blood 
T the foliage of the thorn. 
- After a walk of about a mile and a-balf from Provan- 
la at the mansion of Bobroyslon, in the 
mediate vicinity of which tbe befvayal of Wallace took 
ce. The modem edilice is of considerable extent, and 
BOmewhat picturesque napect, with an air of 
dreariness which reminda one somewhat of the ■' moated 
grange," wherein tbe haplcin Mariana of Tennyson's poem 
lived with her sqitow. There is a profusion of fine old 
nbees around the spot, principiJly of the broiid-Ieaved 
3 !]jeciea, which, with their heavy maaaei of foliage, 
I well with the sombre assooiationa of the locality. 
3o, is wild and tangled, and its walls are ovcr- 
n with a green covering of moas. Luxuriant and beauUlul 

423 tionROY6TON, AucniNLODH, ANB cnitTSTos. 

Bs the spot UDiloubtedly is, ne cao almost faticy, while giuin;; 
upon it, that a ourae clings to its precincts. The road wiinii 
round this garden, and at the north-west comer, immcdiatelT 
opponte a neat fnrm-Bteading, stood the old cottBge in 
which, according to an unvarying tradition, the Scottish hero 
was so treacherously captured. This ahameful occnrreiKf 
took place on the night of the 6th August, 1305. For Hie 
particulars we are indebted priocipallj to the rhymed 
chronicle of Bliud Harry — a document which, with a coo' 
Elderabte admixture of palpable error, contaioa, we are fullv 
persuaded, a large proportion of truth. According to tte 
venerable minstrel, Sir Ajmcr de Vallance, who ol tbal 
period held Bothwell Castle for Edirard the usurper, 
invited Sir John Menteith, the professed friend of WalUee, 
to a cooference at Rutherglen kirk. The meeting took plue 
at the time and place appointed, when the English emiyarj 
Bucoeeded in bribing the fause Menteith to betray the great 
Scottish pntriot. WaUuce was then lurking ia the Ticiaili 
of Glasgow, and Menteith, who had a nephew in his service, 
easily discovered his hiding-place, which was at Robro^'sIoD, 
or Berbreston, aa the minstrel calls the locality, 

V Ilaving obtuined intelligence through his spies that thelero 

was to sleep at this place, Menteith, with sixty of his (dnsmen, 
marclicd in the darkness, and surrounded the little e^Ste, 
The treacherous nephew of a traitorous uncle was set Id 
watch by the confiding Wallace, while ho and his tmsty 
senant Keirly slept. We must give what followed in the 
rude but pithy language (modernized by Hamilton of Gil- 
bertfield) of the old chronicler: — 

I "BM u ho Mmndlj .lept the tTKltor Jola J 

^M Fnrblm topBrpelmtiithewictielcrliTie. I 

^K Then all tliecDtsed.vllB. and birbumiBciBw, ^^M 

^B BniroDCdtlli] hoDHinilboQest KeirljBlDw. ^^M 

^m TbEnitaiinguvaiilUiesUi work did &U,- ^^^^H 

^H Stale Wallace' sword, bis dieger, bow, ud illf., ^^^^^^M 


To bind htm ihaa with CDTda, the □□VATd bfka 
Fell so ttis hero ; btil he. Sunun-llke, 
SpnmE lo tall ftet, end wllb en oeken ilnol 
BnkQ DUfl rognel bocb,— he had no other tool; 
ABd nt a nnnid blow, ths eIowItik wiiU ho sUlni, 

While all thst cimld. wild mldslie; in the rru;, ' 

jkk length tUe wily Menteith bitnaelf appeared, and pretenil- 

g> friendEliip, iadQced Wallace to submit. He was imme- 

Ifttely thereafter conveyed to Dumbarton, then in the hands 

t the invaders, and from tUence to England, where, to the 

rerlABting dishonour of Edward's name, he was barbarously 

It to death. 

k.An old bam-like edifice. In which, according to tradition, 

B disgraceful act in a dark tragedy was enacted, stood, 

Uil a comparatively recent period, on the spot we have 

idicatcd. Latterly it had fallen into decay, and about 

iTB ago, as we have been informed, it was finally 

moliebod. Not the uEghtest vestige of it now remains 

O mark the site which it occupied bo long. SomB friLgments 

of its woodwork, however, have been carefolly preserved. 

At the time when the shattered building was in process of 

remonU, tlic late Mr, Train, the supervisor, an enthusiastic 

antiquarian (and who, as is well known, supplied Sir Walter 

Scott with a considerable portion of the raw material, in the 

ihnpe of old ballads and legends, which he afterwards wove 

into his inimitable novels), was fortunately located in the 

k.^llage of Kirkintilloch. On hearing that the house in which 

F^allace was betrayed was about to be removed, be hastened 

P>ltQ the spot, and succeedtd in appropriating the oaken rafters 

tnicture. These he got manufactured into a hand- 

n chair, which he presented to the great novelist, who 

*' irould doubtless receive such a relic with the greatest pleasure. 

3 finally placed among the auld warld treasures of 

Abbotsford, where, for aught we know, it still remains. 

By a pleasant wood-shaded path we now parsuc our way 

in a somewhat easterly direction. After a brief walk, during 

Lwhich we pass the farms of East and Wust Lutuloch, the 

"istKet of Glasgow with its pallid crowds of h 
ones. The merry rogues before D8 Lavo been a 
the -woods and lanes gathering blackboyds, irith 
liDgcrs and lips are deeply stained, and are r 
thumselves in this green nook after their deri' 
inspiring rambles. What a happy boyhood is t 
pnred with that of the youthfal denizeos of 
tdddcIb, where the sun and the winds are shut 
the wild bird's aong is never heard — and when 
neither leaves, nor Uutrera, nor fruits, to tempt yc 
strayl Aildressing one of the urchins, we as 
numea of the various maneions and forms in the t 
all DOT questions he returns pertinent answers : th 
the knowe is suuh a form, and the tenant is Mr. 
while this one at the brae-fbot is such another fs 
inhabitant is Mr. Tothertbing. At length we 
name of the ancient structure immediately 
"That's Cardarroch, an auld geotie house," 
informant. "And who lives there?" "Oh, 
he replies; and coolly adds, after a brief panae, ' 
workin' folk," There is certainly a, dash of woi 
aophy in the little rogue's reply. " Workin' 
"naebodies" are synon^-mous terms, wo are nfi 

, AND cKr.TSTos. 425 

mjiead Walter Watson, the weaver poet, IheA here for a 

mher of years. The old bard selected this residence 

r the sake of its retired situation and die beauty of the 

rounding scfinery, "He was a nice auk! fallow," said 

i brother webster, wbn still drivea the shuttle in an 

tyoining out-house; "and mony a time I've henrd him 

over his ain sangs at his ain fireside, in this add 

; but he lost some o' bis bairns afore he gaed awa', 

ttd I thiok ho was never aae cheery after that. There waa 

^'d here to see the author of ' We've aye been 

povided for, and sae will we yet.' Ay, ay," he contlnned, 

f Wattie was a decent and a kind-hearted old man." 

(Fhile we are conversing with the honest iveaver oar 

i has taken a faithfijl sketch of the house, and a pretty 

B pioture it makes, with the wee lame laddie sitting on 

a door-stone, Mrs. Driimmond bending over the nashing 

) stately coot with hia troop of bene strutting 

hjudly in the foreground. Even Oui- friend of the shuttle, 

■rho is tavoured with a sight of the drawing, allows, with a 

i Scotch oharinesB of praise, that " It is really geyan 

I the mark." 

Our way is now through corn-fields, tinted with the yellow 

B of autumn ; by green patches of potatoes and turnips, 

[ interrupted occa^ondly by an expanse of moorland 

' purpled with heather, or a dense clump of firwood like 

a dark shadow on a smiling face. The contrasts of colour 

I the landscape are harmonious in the eitreme, the 

being heightened by the broken lights from a 

■ky in which gray waiery clouds are flitdng among the 

prevailing masses of white and blue. Some of the cloud- 

ttudiea would mdeed delight the eye of a Kuskin, who can so 

veil read their hidden meanings ; and our enthusiastic friund 

of the pencil and sketcb-book again and again exclaims 

that "It is a thousand pities such glorious combinations 

Aoidd be permitted to pass away undelineated." Ascend- 

Ling the heights of Aucbinloch. a prospect of great extent and 


beauty opens Dpon our gaze. The TAle of the Lennox 
at our feet, as it were — with all its woods and brace — all 
villages, mansionfl, and farnis, laid down us in a map. 
ua ii Kirkintilloch, with its spire above the trees; luid swsj 
in its own strath the village of Campsae, with the bnjwc 
feUs sleeping in a Sabbath L-alm which is onlj disturbeJ bv 
the silent march of the clou<l-shadows that come and go iit 
their own sweet will. There is something exceedini;!^ aScct- 
ing Ui our mind in the deep, deep calm which ever seenu V) 
rest among the everUstbg hills. In the vallej and on tk 
pluQ man has bis home, and the din of his works la eni 
beard; but away up in tbesc mountain solitudes, where tlie 
streams are born, be has no abidiog-pluce. As an awe- 
struck stranger he may visit them, but there they tower in 
aspect all unaltered since creation's morn, and there od- 
changed they will stand, in their scornful nityesty, wbeD 
countless generations have come and gone, like the ehodowi 
upon their breast 1 

The little village of Auchinloch is delightfully situsied 
upon the ridge from which we are ga^ng upon the wide- 
spread landscape below. The name of the place is denied 
from a pretty extenaiva loch which once ejusted in tla 
vicinity, but which was entirely drained by means of * 
tunnel many yenrs ago, the ancient bed of the waters beisg 
now covered by waving grain. The village consists of tnO 
parallel rows of one-storeyed cottages, inhabited principally 
by weavers. The population at present amounts to about 
12G individjala. In the centre of the village there is a nosl 
little school-house, which was erected and endowed by i 
native of tliQ place, who seems to have realized n ttaiH 
fortune as a commercial traveller in England, llu! Hf. 
learn from the following quaint inscriptioa upon the vl>' 
of the edifice: — "Patrick Boird in Auchinloch, 
traveller to England, mortified to this charity school, in 
the place of his nativity, the sum of three hundred 
twuatf-fivs poim^ stwtiug money, and also appoinlcil 


itOBROTe-roN, AucHiNLocn, asd caBvaTON, 427 

ty Eermon to be preaclied at thia place, about the 

6th of December, yearly. He died October the 20th, 

■743, aged seventy years, Buiit in the year 1745. John 

iturd, portioner in Aucbinloch, gave the ground to build 

"g house on, at the desire of the deceased Patrick Baird, 

I uncle. He gave alao a yard." The aum of fifteen 

I paid annually tu the Bchoobnaster from tlie 

idowment, while the sum of one pound five ghillings is 

pay some young probationer for preaching the 

non, and also to the purchase of prize-books 

:o the scholars at Christmas. We understand, 

hat the sermon has been dispensed vitb for 

B»eral years past. This may be partly ommg to the fact 

■st the old church, which formerly stood adjacent to the 

SUage, has been for many years demolished. It is certainly 

3 creditable, however, to the managers of the trust, 

t the Tvill of tho good old pedlar (for such we suppose 

fl plain meaning of the phrase "merchant traveller" 

b those days) has not been religiously carried into efiecL 

I By a somewhat circuitous but withal pleasant country 

we now leave Aucbinloch ibr Chrj'ston, which, accord- 

a ihrmer whom wo accost by the way, ia situated 

I to the eastward at a distance of "twa miles and a bittock." 

The "bittock," however, seems to our esperience fully 

equal in length to any of the preceding miles. This parish 

was formerly remarkable for the extensive culttvation of fiax 

which was curried on within ita boundaries. According to 

the old Statistical Account, published in 1793, about 200 

. icres of this crop were sown annually. Since that period 

' ftis feature in the agricultural statistics of the parish has 

:ially decreased in importance, until at present there is 

tobably not a tithe of the above amount of acreage devoted 

lb this purpose. On our way we pass one large fitld on 

prhich the " lint ia in the bell," and really we have seldom 

I a prettier sight. The fresh green of the gracolul 

Rttalks, and the faint blue colour of the flowers, as they 

■i'S nonno«TO!<, AtrcrrPtT.ocg, mto c me n m m : 

nave in myriads in the autumnnl breeze, are indeed e: 
iDglf gratefiil to the eye. The uultivation of llaz ii 
recom mended, we undcrBtand, by agricuUursI authoritieijfl 
and as the soil in this quarter seems escellently adajitt 
to produce an abundant crop, perhaps it may c 
come into favour nith the farmers la the neighbourhood, ai 
home-grown linen again become an article of domestic p 
duction. Ofcourae, we do not mean that "the rock andtii 
wee pickle tow," nor even that the apinning-wheel, aboii{ 
be revired, but that, with the aid of machinery, : 
sarks might be again grown to advantage on 

Chryston, at which we now arrive, ia a village of n 
able cleanliness of aspect, the hotiBes bdng mostly w 
washed, and regularly arranged in parallel rows along bolfc' j 
sides of a broad and spaciouB street. It conuista fTia.<ap^-T 
of one-storeyed cottages, in many instances c 
tfaatch, and having luiil-yarda attached to them. Flonn J 
around the doors and windows are alone wanting l0' 1 
realize the picture of a small English country town. At lb( 
west end of the Main Street, by which we make our entrutu, 
there is a. neat little Free Church, with a handsome niioei 
by its side ; while at the eastern extremity there ia anothet 
uhurch, also of small dimensions, in conne 
Establishment. The population consista principHlIy ^ 
weavers, with the sprinkling of cart-wrighia, blaclcamithi 
agricultural Ubourers, usually found in rural villages. 

Near the east end of the village stands a house of so 
pretensions, which formerly belonged to a family well buJi 
in the neighbourhood aa "the Grays of Chiyaton;" 
although the old edihce is now in the possession of st 
the good name of the Gray family still lingers 
of the old inhabitants, like golden clouds in the weat wb4{ 
the son has gone down. During the period of the n 
troubles in Scotland, the laird of Chryston cast in his q 
with the adherents of the Covenant. Hia house wa 
open to afford shelter to the children of persecution. 


in the darkness of night the poor hunted wanderers of the 
Covenant — ^ministers upon whose heads a price was set, and 
lowly peasants who had been driven from house and home — 
found refuge beneath the roof of the hospitable Grays. At 
length suspicion fell upon the good old man. He was 
dragged from his home to a prison, charged with entertain- 
ing Covenanting principles, and with having dared to harbour 
parties under the ban of the law. On his trial he scorned 
to deny either his .creed or his kindness to the distressed, 
and he was sentenced to be transported to the plantations 
of Virginia, and to be sold as a slave. The sentence was 
carried into effect, and a few months thereafter he was 
exposed for sale, with many other victims, in one of the 
market-places of the colony. While standing downcast in 
the crowd a rich planter approached, and, after scanning 
him from head to foot, offered a considerable sum for his 
purchase. The old man remonstrated with the proposed 
purchaser for offering so much, saying that, as he *' was now 
frail and feckless, he would prove but an indifferent bargain." 
The sale was effected, however, and he was conveyed to the 
house of his new master. On arriving there dinner was on 
the table, and the master ordered his slave to sit down, and, 
taking a seat himself, said, after a pause, with trembling 
voice and tearful eye, " Noo, Mr. Gray, will you ha'e the 
kindness to ask a blessing as you used to do in auld 
Ohryston ?'^ The venerable man was astonished, but with- 
out hesitation complied with the request, pouring forth his 
heart in unafiected devotion ? At the conclusion his master, 
who had meantime been much affected, stood up, and 
shaking him warmly by the hand, said, ^' You'll no* mind me, 
but I was ance your herd callant at Ohryston ; and I ha*e 
never forgotten you nor your kindness to me in the days o* 
langsyne. Many years ago I cam to this country, and things 
ha'e gane geyan weel wi' me. This day, when I saw you 
exposed like a brute beast for sale in the market, my heart 
was indeed sair, and I resolved, -WySiltLOvxX. xc^^aSss^^^ss^^^ ^\5^ 

4S0 HOBTtOTBTOs, ArcBTnaoca, xnt) c aava i ox, ' 

bring you to my home. See here yon are, and vrhile I bn'^ 
ye sha'ca want.'" Mr. Gray, ve need only further meiitiDn, 
remuned in Virginia with his old servant and new matter, 
until the " blaat was blawn," and the perfidious Stuarts were 
hurled from a throne of vbich they were unworthy, when li? 
returned to Scotland, and ended his days in peace in the 
home of hia fathers. 

Id a cottage nearly opposite the mansion of the Gwts 
was bom, in the year 1780, our old fiiend, Walter Walsin, 
the ChryBton poet. Here also the boyhood of the Teiierti)ile 
bard was spent ; here he courted the Mag^e of hig song 
and the mothur of his children; aod here he first made the 
acquaintBni:eof the muEe. Many ot'theplaceB in the locality, 
mch as the Braes of Bedlay and the Buthland Bum, are 
celebrated in bis lays. It is now upwards of fifty yaui 
since Walter made hig dcbul before the public as a song- 
writer, and many of our elderiy readers will remember, «o 
have no doubt, that " Sit ye doon, my cronie," and " JocVies 
t'etT awa," were popular favourites in their boyish je&n. A 
poor man's son, the poet has never, with all his induatry, 
managed to speel the stoy bmc of Fortune, and now at the 
putriarchal age of seventy-three he eama his bread upon 
the loom. Although the snows of winter, however, src now 
upon the head of the old bard, his heart stiU retains a oon- 
siderable portion of the greenuess of spring. Nor has the 
gift of song been altogether withdrawn by the trembling 
band of age, as the following spirited verses which he com- 
posed the other day will abundantly show. In writing Uiem 
for us, the poet remarks, " I wadna wisli to be in better lift-" may the ancient minstrel be enabled so to speitkl 


**M7 lad should ba'e been, for he promised to be, 
What way can I be but uneasy ? 
Will some tocber'd hizzie ha'e ta'en his biythe e'e? 
, Gude life, I'm jist like to gang crazy, gang crazy, 

Gade life, lln Jist like to gang crazy. 

**The bum will be grit, and the steps ower the head. 
The Gude ha'e a care gin he tak' them ; 
The road's Jist as ill for the makin' o' speed 
As wearin' and water can mak' them, can mak' tliem, 
As wearin' and water can mak' them. 

** A waiting on something we canna forget, 
A something that luck may mak' free wi', 
Gars Patience look doon, like a bairn in the pet, 
And naething looks up we can gree wi), can gree wi\ 
And naething looks up we can gree wi'. 

"Ha ! here he 's himseV, it 's his tirl at the door, 

And life wi' my lad is returning; 
The spate may come doon, and the blast tak' its roar, 
I'll keep him till gray in the morning, the momiuj^, 
I'll keep Km till gray in the morning." 

Immediately to the east of Chryston is the fine old house 
of Bedlay. This stately building stands upon a terrace of 
gentle elevation, on the margin of a little well-wooded dell, 
through which a streamlet of diminutive size wimples and 
wanders at its own sweet will. Bedlay House is of quad- 
rangular form, with two round turrets, like gigantic pepper- 
boxes, at one end, and a rectangular tower at the other. 
The high-peaked gables are rendered more picturesque by 
having crow-steps, while the windows are small and nar- 
row. On the eastern gable a coat of arms adorns the wall, 
with the motto, •* For securitie.'^ This edifice formerly be- 
longed to the Earls of Kilmarnock. From their hands it 
passed into those of a family named Roberton, who retained 
it for several generations, when it fell into the possession of 
a gentleman named Campbell, whose heirs are the present 

Bedlay House has, or at least had, the unenviable repu- 
tation of being haunted. Who or what the ghost was while 
in the flesh we have been unable to discover, but that 
something uncannie had been seen or heard about the place 
is, or we should perhaps say was, very generally believed 
over the neighbourhood. One old man informed us seriously 
that It was a bad laird of former d&y^iiVo ^^^)^i^\i^^> ^x<!i^ 


Ele was a lair trouble to a,' aboal him (qmil 
IT informant) yihen he waa leevin', and I think it's raliicr I 
bad that be should gtl leace to come bach and digftir!' [ 
t folk ofter he'a dead." Aciiording to Gresidc gossip | 
tt party of ministers were on one occ&sioD called ii 
the unquiet spirit; and we are asaured, on the authority of 
aa old man nbose father held the rererend gentlcmeni 
horses nhile thej nere engs^ in the nork, that when tlie> 
cnme ont of the house afterwards, " the very sweul «*' 
pouring ilovrn their faces." Whether the holy men succeedni 
in giving the ghost hs ijnietut, or whether the geQcrnl spreiil 
of knowkdge, aaisperhnpsmorelikely, has put it to flight, wt 
do not know, but one thing is cerlun, and that is, that than 
is now considerable doabts among the people of ChryEton 
with regard to its existence. One gudefiife, whom me 
question on the subject while she is filling her pitcher U 
Bedlay well, says, — " It 's my honeat opinion there waa mair 
claah than onything els? in the ghost story ; and for mypirt ■ 
1 dinnn believe ae word o't." Probably sbe is ri^t. 
Bidstic companion, who is charmed with the appeaianee v| 
the tenerable structure, having set liimself down, bowe 
to transfer ayiic-Jii'ii/e of it into his sketcb-book, i 
fill up the time till be is dooe with an anecdote of a Ebnn 
laird and our friend the Cbryston poet. The said laii^ 4 
may premise, was a somewhat eccentric character; 
he would have cracked freely with the poortet person 1 
met, and at others be waa the very impersonation of hau^ 
ness and pride. A rumour having reached the wenvra H 
that the laird had eipreased a. favourable opinion of M 
of his verses, nothing would serve tiim. in the vaniljf of 9 
heart, but that be should write something new, 
!t to the great man in person. Casting about for a subjectil 
at length came to the conclusion that were he to ci 
song, the Fcene of which was laid on the gentleman't 0, 
estate, be would be quite eei-tain of a favourable 
"The Brues of IJedlay" was accordingly written, 



snodding himself up with his Sunday braws, the young 
XK>et took the road oie evening to the big house. On com- 
ing to the door he tirled bravely at the knocker, and was at 
^nee ushered into the presence of the laird. In the eyes of 
tihe young weaver he looked exceedingly grand, and he 
almost began to repent his temerity in having ventured into 
snch company. "Well, who are you, and what do you 
want ?" said the laird (who was evidently in one of his bad 
moods), with a voice of thunder. " My name 's Walter 
Watson," faltered the poet, " and I was wanting you to look 
at this bit paper." " What paper," said the grandee, " can 
you have to show me? but let me see it." The manuscript 
was placed in his hands, and stepping close to the candle, he 
proceeded to peruse it. " It ^11 be a* richt noo," thinks his 
hardship. The laird, reading to himself, had got through 
with the first verse, when he repeated aloud the last two 
lines — 

" Whar Mary and I meet amang the green bnsbei^ 
That screen us sae weel on the braes o' Bedlay.** 

" Who is Mary?" quoth he abruptly. " Oh I dinna ken,** 

said the poet, " but Mary 's a nice poetical name, and it 

suited my measure." "And you actually wrote this I" 

added the laird. "Yes," replied the poet, gaining oon- 

fidence, "you'll lee I've put my name to the verses." 

" Well," vociferated his lairdship, raising himself to his 

full altitude, " are you not a most impudent fellow, to come 

here and tell me that you have been breaking my f^ces 

and strolling over my grounds without leave ? I'm just 

pestered with such interlopers as you on my property, and 

now that I have the acknowledgment of the offence under 

your own hand, IVe really a very good mind to prosecute 

you for trespass! Get away with you to your loom! and if 

ever I catch either you or your Mary among my green bushes 

again, depend upon it, I'll make you repent it!" Saying 

this, he flung the manuscript scornfully at the poet (who 

stood trembling, half in fear and half in indignation), and, 



ringing the belli ordered him at once to be ejected ftom Hx 
honse. Alaa ! f "Dor fellow, lie went home that night wilh si 
aching heart, and asJly crest-fallen. 
the world, however, and immediately attaiaed a cansidcnblt 
degree of popolaritj, a great portion of which, we arebiifr 
to eaj, it still rctuins. The laird has left the land wbicli br 
so churHahlj guarded, and hia memory is fast faUisg i 
oblivion; while that of Walter Watson, who sung its beuilits, ' 
wiH be entwimd with the spot for agi:a. Trulylhenii 
lairdabip in genius which ia more potent and lasting Hue 
that which ia aModated with rent-rolls and title-deaii! 
It is but iair to state, however, that the la^l and the pu^ 
aAerwards became good friends, and thut the friendship «e 
in many reepects beneficial to Iho bumble bard. 

Our couipanion having finished his sketch we now mat 
the beat of onr way to the highway between Gijisgow ani 
Cumbernwild, which we enier npon soraewhwe in llif 
vicinity oi^be aeventh mile-stone from the city. Let one ■ 
readers now suppose us, all wearied as we are, to assume au 1 
seven-league boots, by means of which, passing GatnlMti | 
Millerston, Ilogganfield, and BluevaJe, with telegrspliis ' 
WEudity, we arrive within the precincts of Sanct Mongo 
bdfere tbe gray -mantled gloaming has c^d forth the Bt«n-