Though some areas of our towns and cities are blighted by unsightly graffiti, when artists with talent are given scope to create outdoor art, the results, on a grand scale, can be spectacular.
In Glasgow, some of these art works are huge, covering whole gable ends of tenement buildings. A few of the images commemorate people who have made their mark in various diverse fields, including astronomy, music, and in the case of Billy Connolly, comedy and film.
Walking the City Centre Mural Trail may take you to parts of the city you’ve never explored before. Pick up a booklet containing a map from one of the city museums and head east along George Street to find Mural No1.
Some of the art installations are temporary. Further information can be found at www.citycentremuraltrail.co.ukMore recently, a set of murals have been created on the archways of the wall supporting the railway line that runs west from Central Station. Though there is a walkway/cycleway running alongside the murals (there are some on the workshop frontages of the road behind) the noise from traffic on this part of Pointhouse Road leading to the Clydeside Expressway is terrific.You can get away from the traffic to an extent by crossing the bridge(at the end of Sandyford St.)that ends at the Clydeside Distillery. From there you can stroll, stop and study the murals at your leisure as you make your way to the Riverside Museum of Transport.
Have you ever noticed road signs on the M74 pointing the way to Chatelherault near the town of Hamilton? Like thousands of others you may have wondered where the unusual name came from.
It’s derived from the French town, Chatelleroult. The Duchy of Chatelherault was a gift from King Henry 11 of France to the 2nd Earl of Arran, a Hamilton, for his part in the betrothal of Mary Queen of Scots to the French heir in 1548.
Later, the 5th Duke of Hamilton used the similar name for a building that has served as a hunting lodge, a summer palace and a dog kennel. Essentially though, Chatelherault, which is only one room deep, was especially designed as a sort of ostentatious terminus to catch the eye at the end of the tree-lined Grand Avenue stretching south from Hamilton Palace which was once the largest non-royal residence in Britain, possibly even in Europe and the main residence of the Dukes of Hamilton from at least 1591 until 1919.
Unfortunately, Hamilton Palace is no more. It became a casualty of Lanarkshire coal mining operations and had to be demolished in the 1920’s. Chatelherault meanwhile, was also falling into disrepair.
Today however, after extensive restorations, it has been brought back to its former glory and now forms the impressive centre-piece where visitors usually begin their explorations of Chatelherault Country Park.
Let’s start from the front door with a turn along the paved path that edges the borders on three sides of the pink sandstone building. These borders contain some trees and ornamental bushes but it was mainly herbs that were grown here.
The Duke’s table in the 18th century would have been fairly dull without them. In fact, flowers rarely got room in his garden unless they were edible. Among the herbs for use in his kitchen were parsley, thyme, rosemary and basil. Some plants were also cultivated for drying before being spread on the floors to mask the smells of everyday living. Others were used to scent the air. There’s nothing new in today’s pot pourri!
Herbs were also grown for medicinal purposes. Rosemary twined in your hair was thought to be an aid to better memory. Lemon balm, it was believed, given every morning, ‘will renew youth, strengthen the brain and relieve languishing nature’. If only it was that easy!
At a gap in the border there is a low gate in the garden wall. Behind it, patterns have been created in the grassed area with low box hedging.
Continue along the path and the views stretch all the way to the towns of Hamilton and Motherwell with the distant hills of Ben Lomond and Drumgoyne beyond.
From the lawn area at the back door it’s a steep drop down to a much lower green sward. This different level is the result of quarrying in the past. In fine weather the space is enjoyed by children playing and picnicking. What, I wonder, would the Hamilton aristocracy have made of all this fun and games? After all, it wasn’t so long ago that the local populace were seen merely as a source of income while they dug out sand and mined the coal on the Duke’s estate.
The women in this collier population were serfs or slaves like their husbands, fathers or brothers and worked with them in the mines. ‘Muscular strength in a female, not beauty was the grand qualification by which she was estimated and a strong young woman was sure of finding a husband’. If the women attempted to escape, they were liable to be seized and brought back to servitude.
However, in a letter written to the Duchess of Hamilton dated January 2nd 1851, the Duke’s factor, Robert Brown, who must have been more enlightened, described how an Act of Parliament passed on 13th June 1799 changed a way of life. In his letter he was attempting to persuade the Duchess to finance the education of these young women. Education, he pointed out, would be their saving. Their refinement would benefit the whole country and prosperity would follow.
Off to one corner at the rear of Chatelherault stands a small, square red sandstone building. Over the years it has served many purposes. Most times it was just a posh garden shed but along the way it became known as the Leopard House where the Palace leopard was kept. On other occasions it housed the 6th Duke’s polar bears! Other animals known to have used the facility included a monkey, wolf, eagle, peacock and peahen.
Before completing your walk of the square and returning to the front door of Chatelherault, look out for a small herd of Cadzow cattle. They may be seen grazing amongst the sheep in the distance. The estate is one of only a few places in the country where this rare breed with white coats and long, black - tipped horns are kept. They are possibly the descendants of wild cattle that roamed the ancient Caledonian Forest which once covered large areas of Scotland.
Wild white cattle were the sacrificial beasts of the Celtic Druids and the Romans. When the Romans left Britain, large numbers of these beasts were turned loose to roam the forests. Tradition has it that King Robert the Bruce hunted wild bulls around here in 1320 as did James 1V of Scotland two centuries later.
But never fear! As you wander the woodland paths, keep in mind that the cattle of old were rounded up and driven into parks more than three hundred years ago during the time of the enclosure of the great estates. Wild things to look out for now include bluebells, butterflies and birdlife. Stroll out to the Duke’s Bridge and you may spot, far below, a grey heron standing stock still studying the slow flow of the Avon Water.
This twisting path runs past the remains of Cadzow Castle and further on, the venerable Cadzow Oaks. Some of these trees are thought to be up to nine hundred year old remnants of the great Caledonian Forest. Although they are hollow they still support a vast amount of insects and other wild life.
Chatelherault Visitor Centre has a wealth of information in the display area covering the natural history of the Clyde Valley and work that took place here on the estate.
In the banqueting room and Duke’s room you’ll have to crane your neck to appreciate the marvellously restored plaster work on the ceilings and walls.
Now try and imagine what life was like here for the bright young aristocrats who charged on horseback through the Chatelherault woods by day and danced at parties in these rooms by night. A dog’s life in the dog kennels? Not a chance
Further information: The visitor centre has a shop and a café/restaurant and information on the various woodland walks. At the entrance to the Country Park there is a play area for children.
In Celtic folklore, kelpies were believed to take the form of fearsome, powerful horses. When one of those beasts was seen, it would be easily identifiable by its white and sky blue colouring and constantly dripping mane.
It was also believed a kelpie could swim, keeping just one scary eye out of the water before changing its form to become a beautiful woman, all the better to lure men into a trap.
The Kelpies seen near Falkirk of late may therefore have been wrongly named as large numbers of people have been getting up close, unafraid, craning their necks for a better look!
These particular Kelpies, representing two horses’ heads, are a massive work of art made of thousands of pieces of stainless steel. Glinting in the sunlight, about 30 metres tall, they stand on either side of a new extension of the Forth and Clyde Canal.
From some angles, perhaps like the mythical creatures they have been named after, they appear benign, caught in two vaguely realistic poses – one head is downturned while the other reaches for the sky. And possibly because the sculptures are so big, some curious visitors are happy to pay to take a guided tour to ‘see the horse’s insides’ as it were.
As well as being monumental, complex pieces of engineering, artist Andy Scott’s Kelpies also commemorate the thousands of heavy horses that worked with their handlers during the construction of the Forth and Clyde and Union Canals.
The cutting of the first sod signalling the start of this endeavour took place in 1768 near Grangemouth at the River Forth end of the excavation that would become the Forth and Clyde Canal. It would be 1790 before this vast undertaking was completed at the village of Bowling on the River Clyde. As well as being a magnificent feat of engineering, this linking waterway between two great rivers was of immense importance in Scotland’s industrial past.
The Union Canal was built later, mainly to carry coal and building stone to Edinburgh. Goods and equipment could then be hauled across country between Glasgow and Edinburgh by barges pulled by heavy horses while sailing ships were saved a long, often arduous journey, round the north coast.
For the itinerant labourers who dug what were essentially elongated trenches, conditions must have been desperate. Consider the enormity of their task when picks, shovels and wheelbarrows, plus a few horses and carts were the available tools.
Labouring across this ‘waist of Scotland’ was nothing new, of course. Centuries earlier, the Roman Army had built a line of forts roughly parallel to where the Forth and Clyde Canal now runs. To better these defences against enemies to the north, Emperor Antonius Pius in AD140 ordered the building of a wall. It consisted of a wide, deep ditch and an earthen rampart interspersed with new forts and platforms for beacons. Though it was abandoned some 20 years later, the Antonine Wall replaced Hadrian’s Wall for a time, as the far northern frontier of the Roman Empire.
After circling the Kelpies, you might want to extend your walk or cycle (the sculpture is no distance from the Helix Park car park) along that part of the Forth and Clyde Canal in the immediate area, or explore the extensive paths in the newly created Helix Park.
Another option is to take a bus, or drive the four miles, for a look at the remains of the Antonine Wall on your way to the iconic Falkirk Wheel. In the passing you might notice the Union Inn, sited where the Forth and Clyde Canal and the Union Canal were first connected by a flight of locks at Lock 16.
It was from the basin at Lock 16 that the Charlotte Dundas, the world’s first practical steamboat, headed for Glasgow in 1803.
By 1836 the number of passengers travelling on the canals had risen to 200,000. Just as today, some of them would have enjoyed a meal or perhaps a small libation in the Union Inn beside Lock 16 before continuing their journey.
Sailing between Edinburgh and Glasgow took around 7 hours in boats called ‘swifts.’ Slower night boats, the ‘hoolets’ (Scots word for owls) were popular with honeymoon couples.
In 2002, the No.16 Lock gates were superseded by the Falkirk Wheel when the world’s first rotating boatlift was opened by H.M. Queen Elizabeth. Like the Kelpies, the Falkirk Wheel is a marvellous feat of engineering. From a basin off the Forth and Clyde Canal, it can lift 8 boats at a time (more usually 1 boat full of visitors) and deposit them some 25 metres higher on the Union Canal.
While gazing up at this mechanical marvel, also keep in mind there may be objects still more mysterious overhead. This area, particularly the town of Bonnybridge, west of Falkirk, has a reputation for witnessing many occurrences of unidentified flying objects.
The canal towpaths can be walked in sections or on one long trek from end to end. Considering that the waterway runs through some of what was Scotland’s industrial heartlands, much of it is now gratifyingly rural with expansive views. From the Union Canal towpath you can look over Falkirk to a distant, silver sliver of the River Forth, to the Ochil Hills beyond and further still to the peaks of the Highlands.
Swans and herons and a variety of ducks seem unperturbed by passing footsteps while stretches of woodland on each side are alive with noisy birdlife. Anglers are welcome, as are other water users such as rowers and canoeists.
In places, speeding trains on the nearby rails are reminders of the progress that led to the early demise of these canals. But in a recent turnaround, for the first time in years, material has been transported by barge instead of by road or rail.
With the opening of the new Forth and Clyde Canal extension which runs between the Kelpies, the waterway is now ready for vessels arriving from or making for the North Sea and beyond.
The Kelpies were officially opened to the public on the Easter Weekend of 2014 with a spectacular sound show and late evening blaze of lights.
Days later, the John Muir Way, running between the towns of Helensburgh in the west and Dunbar in the east, was also opened.
Now this latest long distance trail which makes use of some sections of the Union and Forth and Clyde Canals is ready for walkers, cyclists, or riders on horseback.
In Scotland’s capital, the Old Town thoroughfare running from Edinburgh Castle down to Holyrood Palace is often referred to as the Royal Mile. Castlehill leads down to the Lawnmarket which continues into the High Street. A short walk past John Knox’s House this becomes the Canongate leading to Horse Wynd which turns past the front of the new Scottish Parliament building. From the Royal Mile, a series of roads, narrow lanes and tight alleyways fall away to either side. These alleyways, or ‘wynds’ and ‘closes’, once had gates that could be locked at night to protect the inhabitants from thieves and vagabonds.
During much of the year the Royal Mile is busy, thronged with visitors. Some come to wave at the occasional parades of passing royalty. Others delight in spotting politicians or celebrities, busking musicians or street theatre performances. Treading in famous footsteps where dramatic events in Scottish history took place is also an attraction. Then there are those visitors who are prepared to venture below present day street level to learn about the lives of the ordinary people who once lived in the tenements.
Standing up to eight stories high, these buildings were known as the world’s first skyscrapers. Densely populated, they each housed up to 600 people of all classes and trades. Society was then organised vertically. The wealthy lived at the top of a building and the poor lived amongst the filth at the bottom. As there was a general lack of sanitation throughout the town, everybody suffered.
The entrances, or closes off the main street, were often named with a simple description of the businesses or activities carried on there. In Bakehouse Close you would smell baking bread. Fleshmarket Close and Skinner’s Close were less savoury. This was where the slaughtermen, butchers and tanners carried on their trades. A lawyer could be consulted in Advocate’s Close or a ship’s chandler in Anchor Close.
Other closes were named after prominent citizens who dwelt there. For example, Pearson’s Close was named after Alexander Pearson, 17th century merchant, while Stewart’s Close, was probably named after William Stewart, merchant, magistrate and resident in 1710. These names would change over time. Thus, Mary King’s Close came to be named after a comparatively wealthy business lady.
Night time in the Old Town could be dark and dangerous with robbers lurking to waylay the unwary. To help lessen the dangers, the Burgh Council, in the winter of 1554, issued a regulation requiring trades people to light a lantern each evening in front of their booths. It had to be lit between the hours of 5 o’clock in the evening and 9 o’clock the next morning. Failure to comply could incur a fine. Without this early form of street lighting, a walk through these crowded warrens of interlinked passages in falling darkness must have been a frightening prospect.
An apocryphal story that has been retold many times would have us believe that Mary King’s Close was sealed tight with the inhabitants trapped inside at the time of the plague in the 1600’s. This drastic action was supposedly taken to stop the disease spreading further.
The sealing of the building didn’t happen, but what is true is that in 1753, the Burgh Council decided to develop a new building on the site. The houses at the top of Mary King’s Close were knocked down and part of the lower sections were kept and used as foundations for the Royal Exhange Building, now known as Edinburgh City Chambers, on the High Street.The remnants of the houses that remain below have been re-opened, studied in detail and it’s now possible to wander through Mary King’s Close (with a guide) to gain an insight into the lives and times and ghosts of some of the past residents.
From documentary evidence a fair amount is known about Mary King’s life. She owned a market stall selling fine lace collars and dresses. Business was so good that she could afford to raise her four children in relative luxury. Her wood panelled home was higher than ground level and away from the waste and rubbish that would have run down the alleyways. Though her furniture was sparse, she did own a ‘long wooden settle’, the equivalent of a modern day couch or sofa.
Mary was also the proud owner of a ‘tappit hen’ and a quaich. From such fine silver drinking vessels, she enjoyed many a measure of wine or ale. This indulgence was another indication of Mary’s wealth. In her testament she left a number of belongings to her children including gold rings, silver spoons, gowns, considerable quantities of fabric ruffs, tin chamber pots and a velvet doublet.
Her house was lit by lamps called ‘crusies’ in which fish oil or animal fat was burned. Adding to the aromas from these fuels would have been the smells emanating from the contents of a bucket which stood in a corner of a room. This was the early form of Edinburgh’s sanitation system! As well as being used as a toilet, this was a sick bucket and a receptacle for food waste. It was the job of the youngest able member of the family to take this bucket and empty it out – once in the morning and once at night! The waste eventually ran down through the alleyways to the Nor’ Loch – now better known as Princes Street Gardens. Death by drowning in the foetid water of the Nor’ Loch was a punishment handed down to those committing serious crimes such as murder.
On a present day tour of Mary King’s Close, your guide, dressed in period costume will give you more colourful details and ask you to imagine that you have stepped back in time to the year 1645 when the plague was at its worst. You are now standing in the Craig family home near the foot of Mary King’s Close.
You will learn that Mr. John Craig, head of the household, has died of pneumonic plague that very morning. His body lies on the floor, bound in a sheet, awaiting collection. John had been a gravedigger at Greyfriars churchyard and unfortunately, he infected the rest of his family. His wife Janet and three children, young John, Robert and Thomas will be taken into quarantine at Sciennes, a district outside the Old Town.
Pneumonic plague was the worst of the two forms of the disease, the other being bubonic plague. Symptoms were similar to modern day influenza – feelings of lethargy and nausea went with being sick every few minutes into that small bucket now placed by the side of a sufferer’s bed.
As well as internal bleeding, a victim’s skin would turn black. This discolouration gave rise to the common name of the plague - the Black Death. A high percentage of those who caught the plague didn’t survive. There was no cure for the worst form though there was a partial cure for the lesser bubonic plague. In many instances the illness could be a slow death sentence.
Outbreaks of this ‘contagion’ were common place during the 16th and 17th centuries and over the course of many years, the Scottish authorities put great effort into attempts at protecting the country’s ports against infection. But though ships required a bill of health declaring them to be plague-free, the captains of some vessels were frequently fined for trying to sidestep the regulations.
Many people, particularly the wealthy fled the town, so a careful watch was kept on the remaining inhabitants who were threatened with fines and imprisonment if caught trying to leave. Certain everyday activities were banned such as wakes, penny weddings and the wearing of a plaid. It was thought that a person wearing a plaid, a length of tartan material wrapped round the body and often over the head, might be attempting to hide their sickness.
The Craig’s house, like those of other victims, would have been cleaned by specially appointed plague cleaners who wore grey tunics marked with a white saltire, the cross of St. Andrew, patron saint of Scotland. Goods, bedding and clothing were usually burned. The billowing smoke from the flowering shrub, Broom was thought to ‘cleanse the air’.
Whilst in their homes during the plague, families like the Craigs received charitable donations which included ale, wine, bread and coal. These provisions were delivered on a daily basis from residents who were still healthy enough but who went in fear. This practice was considered better for all concerned and ensured that the infected people stayed in their homes. Thus, the well enough members of the community had good reason to give generously.
If a household could afford treatment, they would send for Dr. George Rae. The good doctor would lance the buboes (abscesses) then cauterize and seal the wounds with a red hot poker. This entire operation was carried out without any form of anaesthetics – that particular process had yet to be discovered. The pain inflicted during this treatment must have been awful. On the other hand, there was a half chance that a life might be saved.
At the time, it was believed that the plague was spread by miasmas – foul smelling poisons in the air. To prevent these smells affecting him while attending to his patients, Dr. Rae wore a floor length, thick, black leather coat type of garment. Over his head and face he wore an equally thick, black leather mask with a long, beak shaped protuberance. The ’beak’ was filled with sweet smelling herbs and spices that acted as a crude filter.
As strange as his costume appears, it did work for Dr. Rae since he lived for another thirty years after the plague left the city. It is known that he was the second plague doctor to take up the jobafter John Paulitious, the first official plague doctor, who died, in June 1645.
Dr. George Rae was employed by the council on June 13th of that year and given the sizeable salary of £100 Scots a month. By November, incredibly, he had negotiated a further £10 Scots per month – he was not expected to live long!
Though it took longer elsewhere, the worst of the plague was over in Edinburgh by the autumn of 1646. By then, the Council had second thoughts regarding the Doctor’s payment. George Rae was still chasing his money almost 10 years later. He won eventually and claimed an unprecedented yearly pension of £1200 Scots.
The Black Death, as we now know, was not spread by miasmas, but by fleas brought in on the backs of rats. The rats probably arrived from Europe on the ships that sailed into Leith harbour. The fleas would jump from the rats and bite into their human victims.
Some of the original passageways off the Royal Mile, as well as now having restaurants and bars, are still used as short cuts between streets. They have long been made safe with modern paving, lighting, and handrails where necessary. No longer will you hear the cry, “Gardyloo,” (from the French ‘regarde l’eau’) as some householder pours the contents of a bucket of filthy waste water from the height of an upstairs window opening. But it’s still possible to get a sense of the conditions that prevailed and the people who lived there hundreds of years ago.
First published in The Highlander
The Magazine of Scottish Heritage
Further Information: www.realmarykingsclose.com