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Scenes from an Artist's Life
Chapter 11
" The world is changed, and a' things noo
To me seem like a dream !"
DELTA.
" There is a wail in the wind to-night,
A dirge in the plashing rain,
That brings old yearnings round my heart,
Old dreams into my brain."
SIL NOEL PATON.
THE LANG-TAILED COMET-WILLIE LOUDON'S FIRST LESSON lN GASLIGHT-HENRY BELL AND WATT-THE COMET STEAMER-GEORGE STEPHENSON-THE FIRST LOCOMOTIVE IN SCOTLAND--KILMARNOCK HOUSE-THE DUKE OF PORTLAND'S TRAM- ROAD-THE FIRST TRIAL OF THE LOCOMOTIVE-GEORDIE PETTIGREW-A PAlNIC-THE ROB ROY STEAMER CROSSES THE CHANNEL-DUNDONALD FAIR-JOHN SHIELDS -A MAN FIGHT-A BULL FIGHT-A MELEE.
SOMETHING new is still wanted, and should an earnest man offer onything new to the world, as a
reward he is first treated to the world's scorn. They who sit in darkness are the first to offer
themselves as critics on light. In theyear 1811 we were treated in this country, for the space of six
weeks during the wet hairst, to a lang-tailed comet that was named the blazing comet. It was like a big
peoy, or fizzing ball, wi' a tail about sax foot lang. It was really a fizzer, and held on between our
house and Symington at aslow, steady, yet undiminishing speed. Mony a speculation was made by the
learned and ignorant on its mission. It was blamed for being the cause of the wet hairst. It was
looked at by the unthinking as coming to consume the world. The gas light was being spoken of at that
time as coming to give new light to the world. Shortly after that, auld Willie Loudon, the tailor in
Symington, wad be giein' the boys lessons in the new light, which he said was sure yet to be spread
o'er the kingdoms of the earth as lang as coal lasted.
One of Willie's lessons was quite enough to illustrate the principle to the stupidest mind, yet some
otherwise sensible auld men wad shut their e'en to the fact, and say that it was just like the rest o'
Willie's nonsense. Willie took a tobacco pipe, and pounding as much gas coal as filled the head of it,
covered the mouth thereof with a piece of -clay- then setting the head of the pipe in the fire, it was soon red hot and turned into a gas retort. "Then," quo' Willie, "whenever you see a wee thocht o' reek coming out at the end of the shank, haud to a bit lowing paper, and you'll see a fine lowe, far purer than an oil lamp; and it will gi'e you light to read for twenty minutes." So much for the first lesson,-a kindly remembrance of the auld man even to this day. Gas light was not even then a speculation for big towns. It, like other lights, began with enlightened individuals. Richie Alexander, in the Strand of Kilmarnock, was the first in that district to introduce it into the cabinet shop. It passed through wooden pipes round the shop. Some decent folk thought that it was a tempting of Providence, and a risk of burning or blawing up the neighbours.
The year of the comet was, and is, recorded in history in blazing splendour. James Watt and Henry
Bell, ane frae Helensburgh and the ither frae Greenock, were building a boat to be fitted up with
machinery to gang against wind and tide, and to carry her own propelling power alang wi' her. Many
were the speculations anent the newfangled notions o' the twa crazy folk. Fools couldna understand
them, and wise men pitied them. They named their boat the Comet, but instead o' fleein' through
the air for sax weeks in a wet hairst the Greenock Comet has bizzed awa-and is still growing
brighter-for the last fifty-five year.
George Stephenson, a callant born within eight mile o' Newcastle, took a notion about that time
that he wad like to mak a steam horse to draw coal waggons faster than the auld horses at that
time employed wad either be able or willing to gang. As he was in the employment of a coalmaster
at the time, taking care of an engine for drawing coals and water, he spent his odd time trying to
understand the nature of steam power in various forms; so he set about the steam horse. Reports from
time to time passed through the papers as to his apparent success; report came to Dundonald that a'
the auld waggon horse wad be eaten aff their feet and aff the road; that the skin and auld shoon wad
be a' that was left worthy belanging to them, the market-price of which was aboot four-and-sixpence
each beast. Early in 1816, Robert Stephenson, brother of the inventor, came to Kilmarnock with the
first locomotive engine that ever appeared in Scotland. It was set down on the Duke of Portland's
tram road, about 400 yards below Kilmarnock House, then an enclosed and venerable relict of past
greatness. The auld coach-house was turned into a coal-ree, and the lang garret, which ran back aboon
Bauldy Hood's house, was let to James Ramsay as a seed loft. The weight of rye-grass seed, being
one day out of proportion to the bearing power,went through the floor with a grand crash, and resting
on the top of an auld-fashioned box-bed in which Jamie Hood was sleeping at the time, rather
surprised the owner of the seed and occupant of the bed. Further than being an alarming aspect of the
present frailty of past greatness, it did no great harm; and the weight was lifted, the floor mended, and
Jamie Hood came forth unscathed, and afterwards, in consort with his brother Robert and another
callant named Robertson, somewhere from near Quarelton, in Renfrewshire, was the first to fire the
first iron horse who eat coals instead of corn in Scotland.
It is something in the history of Kilmarnock to say that three years after the first locomotive was
made, we had a place to test its power. The Duke of Portland's tram road to Troon was laid with
cast iron plates, but, so unsuited to the great weight and the rapidity of some of the curves, made
breakage more deadly. The destruction of property was more than could be suffered at the hand of
the new horse, so the old ones took the road and kept it for a season longer. Yet the first start was
a grand sight. On the tram road near to the auld toll on the Dundonald road sat the new power. As
the steam got up the people stood farther back. The liability to burst at the start had been much
speculated on, and a strong desire that it should was fearlessly expressed. I stood in the Lower
Wards Park beside Geordie Pettigrew, wha had a heavy interest in the auld horse. Strange
utterances came forth at intervals from him. He seemed to see nobody, care for nobody, and in his
speeches to address himself to nobody; yet he spoke out. A batch of women stood beside us,
whose husbands had been deputed to assist in the start. They were to put their shoulder to the
machine, to send it off without strain, and give eclat to the first heat of concentrated horse-power
against the real brutes. There were nervous jerks of expression in look and utterance by the
women, and a wild shout was raised by them when they saw their husbands left alone and unhurt.
The engine was careering along the line on its way to Gargiston at a good horse trot pace.
' The people's shouts were long and loud."
The iron horse was a great success.Geordie Pettigrew stood awhile in a state of vacant stupor, his
lower jaw seemed as slack as if it had been dislocated, and when the engine had passed through
the cut, he gave the final sentence-" To the tan-yard every living beast: flesh and blood cannot
stand against that !"
Such was the start-all things considered, a great success. Having run to Gargiston, a return trip
ensued, as favourable both as regards motion and speed. At the end of the cut, a slender
embankment bears out the level, and there the engine came to a state of repose, so that the
audience might draw nearer and inspect this compound of engineering skill, now so decided a
triumph over superstitious negations. A rush was made by thousands who a few minutes before had
stood back in awe. The ease and grace by which the huge machine snorted along the line and the
composed way in which it was brought to a stand still, the reversing, and plying to and fro, seemed
to have produced a new state of mind in the audience,who clustered round, touched it, and enquired
as to how it was acted on and guided. I had a catch of one of the props of the foot-board along
which the engineer walked, and was stooping to make a survey of some of its underbelly
gearing. The carcase sat on three pair of wheels. The fore and aft pair were turned by long
connecting rods, fixed to a nob on the outer flange of the wheels, and by the aid of crossbeams
played up and down like a pair of frame saws, turning the-wheels like so many grindstones. The
centre pair were turned by a chain. On the centre of each axletree was a wheel with teeth, and an
open chain revolved on the teeth in pinion form, keeping the valves in their place. When I was thus
absorbed, the engineer opened the safety-valve with a grand burst, which struck the air and the ears
of the crowd at the same moment. It seemed to me as if the whole mass had been blown to
fragments. The crowd instinctively swelled to such a size as burst the boundaries of the hedges on
both sides of the road, and down a gentle declivity of about four feet there sprawled the mass. Every
part of the human figure was represented in the grand confusion. It was a motley mixture of hurdies,
feet, and faces. All sorts of murder shouts rose from the group. I was petrified, and held a death grip
for a time, quite uncertain whether the people were killed, or if I were still alive. It had on me a
lasting effect, and I have no doubt but others will still retain vivid pictures connected with the start of
steam travelling in Scotland.
Jamie Hood died this last season. Robert still lives, and has the management of Stonelaw colliery,
at Rutherglen. As for the callant Robertson, I ha'e lang lost sight of him. The locomotive was, like
some great folk, "before its time," as they had not yet discovered a way for its will. The road that
used to be trod by the auld horse was in some places high in the centre, and on those heights did
the teeth-wheels on the axletrees rest, bending both them and the rods by which motion was
attained. As a power out of place, the giant had to be laid aside for a time. That was one rare
mechanical start I had the pleasure to look on in my time, and I have lived to see it ripen into
maturity.
The first steamboat I saw was at Largs fair in 1818. That was the first one that I touched with my
finger. It was on the day the Rob Roy steamer first crossed the Irish Channel to Belfast. From the
heights above Largs I witnessed the spectacle. There were ten of us. I was the only boy; all the
rest were what in common cant are termed men, among whom a conversation sprung up anent the
presumption of man. Some held out that the men and boat wad never come back; ithers thought
they should hae been prayed for before they started. A stern old farmer settled that point in a solid
sentence-"Pray for them, sir ! No sensible man durst. Their conduct is an open tempting of
Providence. That's a thing no man has a right to do, and no man dare ask a blessing on such
conduct." By the aid of steam, next day saw the return of the boat and her cargo of men who had
set use and wont at defiance. The poet now gave welcome to the undertaking; a couple of blind
men sang the victory over wind and tide and human prejudice-the last a more subtle and
destructive element than the unthinking billows which roll in any sea. There was something novel to
me to hear two blind men singing a scientific success which men with their eyes open could not
appreciate-
" I sing the progress of a ship,
The best that ever Scotland saw
That o'er the sea tak's mony a trip
Whatever airt the wind can blaw.
" Ye men o' trade may noo be glad,
Whause business leads to Erin's shore;
For weeks nae mair your wives are sad
Rob Roy your husbands soon restorel''
The retrospect of past events tends to show what motion has been made in a few years-how mind
has been forced into new shape by a few earnest men who have been accounted dreamers by the
sleepy head of use and wont, and whose victories we too oft share in like carrion crows, feeding
and fattening on their results as if we had a hand in securing the harvest. Comforts are created on
land and water by the few and offered to the many at a trifle of expense. The great globe is circled,
lined, and intersected with metal and mental ligaments, rubbing out sects, clans, and peevish
greatness, tending to make the human family one people, with wants and wishes easily
understood.
As I am about to leave Dundonald, I will introduce my readers to a scene at the fair, where we may
have a laugh at a fight which ended without bloodshed.
On the 24th June, 1867, I went per rail from Glasgow, met my brother at Kilmarnock, and walked
out by Dankeith to Symington. It was the fifty-seventh anniversary of our return from the Barony
Parish of Glasgow to the place of our nativity, after an absence of three and a half years. On the
26th I visited Dundonald, whose picturesque beauty is to me the most perfect of any spot on earth
which I yet have seen. I had been a residenter there more than fifty-three years ago. The village was
now cleaner, exhibiting purer taste in the inhabitants; but few of the old dwellings contained even a
sample of the old stock. From the inanimate surroundings a voice seemed to come; its tone was
impressive,-"The days of old to mind I call."
" Still as I view each well known scene,
Think what is now, and what has been,
Seems, as to me, of all bereft,
Sole friends thy woods and streams were left."
Dundonald Fair, held early in May, used to be a great affair to young and old. The first indications in
the morning were a few sweetie stands; further on in the day came Johnny Mickie with his
rowley-powley and a few opposition gingerbread stands and baskets, with a double chance or a
loss, by pitching at three cakes set up against the basket. About fifty year back, the fair opened as
usual, and John Shields, a weaver, who was an excellent pitcher with the penny, began to patronise
a boy who had spread out his basket-set up "the short stance and the broad mark." John was
winning every time, and boys who had coppers to spend employed John to pitch for them. If he did
miss a shot, the boys never were losers, for he gave them value out of his stock. Several times
John asked the boy if he was not wearied of him taking so much from him. The boy honestly said
that he had a capital profit, and wad be glad to get the whole contents of his basket off his hand in
the same way. A farmer's son who had been tasting drams came doun the village with a magis-
terial swagger, and made an attack on Shields as a robber of the poor boy. A wordy war began, in
which the jolly young man from the country would like to be employed to thrash all the weavers in
Dundonald before the kye began to come in to the fair. Words grew weak, and Shields told him if he
had a taste of one of the weavers' fists on his illbred mouth he would go home quite well pleased.
Tam could stand it no longer, so aff went the jacket; but Shields gave him wholesome advice to put
it on and go away with his face as it was, or, if he did insist, he would ornament him so as his
mother would have doubts about him. Nothing but the destruction of the weaver tribe was to satisfy
Tam; so a stand-up of one round was commenced, in which Tam got twa blue e'en and otherwise
sair dauded, till he grat, and said that Shields had o'er mony boys about him, and that there was
naebody to take his part. After a while his auld father came into the village, and hearing that his son
had been pummelled by an Irishman, and a weaver to the bargain, he was determined to have all
the Irish banished the village in less than four-and-twenty hours. This began a grumble in the
morning which lasted throughout the day. The villagers who kept cows had united in a body to
honour the fair with the presence of the village kye in a group. It was with some difficulty that they
were assembled in front of Tailor Wallace's door, about mid-day. Nanny Wallace and I were to keep
them in order. Mysie Wallace had been hauding the fair, and sent forth her cow hasped by the
houghs of the hind legs, what is termed bourached. The cow was compelled to jump in gallop
fashion. The other cows before this were feeling very uneasy at their new position and seeing so
many strange cows and bulls on the street. They raised their tails in true startling fashion, and up
the village after Mysie's cow. They became a perfect disturbing influence to the whole fair, much to
the satisfaction of the weavers and the boys. Two young bulls ran together and began to push
heads. They were the property of two cousins. One was six months older than the other, and his
weight gave him the advantage, so he set back his antagonist, whose master put his shoulder to
the hinderpart of his bull, and turned the victory on the side of youth. The master of the other in turn
put his shoulder in like fashion, so for a little the pressure was equal-two bulls and two cousins were a
laughing stock to the weavers. In the fight the masters became besmeared with ridicule and dirt, and in
their zeal pressed the brutes past each other, and fell with their heads together. Their blood was up,
and they began to abuse each other. Their friends now interfered and hurried them through to John
Orr's back door, there to be washed. The weavers followed. The midden had been emptied, and the
cavity about three feet deep had been filled with water, in which a big farmer threatened that he would
pitch every weaver in Dundonald if they did not leave the premises instanter. A little Irishman named
John Quin, who had been on board a man-of-war, said that he would give him a lesson how to do it.
Quin took the great mass a dunner on the short rib with his shoulder which sent him plump amang the
dirty water. One farmer after another rushed to help out their friends, and little Quin, with kindly pop,
put in seven big men. The rest of the weavers joined in the melee, and no fewer than fifteen farmers
were in a few seconds put into a manure steep. Some of them made a narrow escape from
suffocation. They had to change their clothes as they best could till dry suits were sent for. The
weavers left the ground after giving three cheers. It left a bad feeling between town and country
society for a long time after. Such is a sample of rural life in the past. Hoping for better times, I leave
Dundonald in the next chapter, singing-
" From scenes like these auld Scotia's grandeur springs ! "