The Collina House Mystery

Words by Elinor Abbott

Colina House or Collina Cottage?  

Discover the mystery of Colina House - an exquisite property captured in family photos from the early 1900s. Follow our search for answers as we uncover the story of Maryhill's first provost, David Swan, and the possibility of his family's connection to the elusive Collina Cottage.

Stuart contacted Maryhill Burgh Halls, hoping we could help him find information on a cache of family photos showcasing early twentieth-century locations in Maryhill. These pictures had already undergone some research, which Stuart had done himself, aided by family mementoes and tokens.

The wedding invitation was particularly interesting to Stuart, which indicated the wedding was to take place at "Colina House". What was Colina House? And where was it? There were several photos of a bride standing in both the foyer and front steps of a large and nicely turned-out house. There was also a photo of a woman in a wide-brimmed hat, standing by a fountain at "Colina House". Stuart wondered if perhaps his family had worked in service, as he didn't think they had owned property back then. An old map he found indicated there was at one time, a building called "Collina" in Maryhill, where Collina Street is now.

Looking into the origin of Collina House, we discovered that Maryhill's first provost (similar to a mayor), David Swan, lived in a home called Collina Cottage, built around 1858. This home is described in an ordnance survey from that period as "A superior Cottage commanding a view of the whole of Maryhill." Could this be the same Collina House that Stuart's family's photos indicated?

Doing map regression work shows that Collina Cottage, the one built by the Swan's, remained on local maps until 1933, at which point it disappeared. Stuart's photos would have been taken around the late teens/early 1920s. Housing ownership records did not turn up anything which indicated to who the Swan's may have sold Collina Cottage to, as that family relocated to Perthshire around 1907. There is a document which states a "Janet Ferguson" owned Collina Cottage in 1895, but this may be the married name of Janet Swan, daughter of David Swan, it is hard to say. Collina was certainly an important name to the Swan family, shipbuilders, who built a ship called the Collina (also called the Corie) in 1862.

Looking closer at Stuart's photographs of his family in the early twentieth century, it was noted that they did not have the appearance of servants, they were smartly dressed in a number of photographs, particularly one in which they are crowded around Isabella S.B Dunlop (née Bryce), Stuart's great grandmother, outside a stately home, perhaps the same one from the wedding and fountain photographs.

Though it is generally more difficult to find information about women than men when looking at historical records, Isabella S.B Dunlop (1850-1927) left behind many clues and questions when it came to Collina House. Isabella's full name was Isabella Sloss Bryce Dunlop, but another name came up when looking into records of her death. The National Probate Index of Scotland (a probate is what gives someone the legal right to the estate of another person and exists separately from a will) shows that Isabella also went by the name "Colina" (one 'L'). She willed what would be about £3,600 to her eldest daughter, Mary, in today's money.

Isabella's husband had been a blacksmith who owned the "Dunlop Forge." Isabella was widowed in 1921 and documents from this time show that she owned property on Hill Street, now called Duncruin Street, not far from Collina Cottage. This property was a workshop and ground house, at which a number of people lived and from which her son, Thomas, ran his carriage and horseshoe business, "Thomas B. Dunlop & Co." Was she living elsewhere? Was she also perhaps the owner of what was Collina Cottage, now called Colina House? We are waiting for the 1921 census to be released so we can explore who was living where.

The Dunlop Forge, Hill St.

Thomas B Dunlop & Co carriage company.

Isabella's two daughters also worked. Annie, Stuart's grandmother, was a ladies mantle maker, a mantle being a type of overcoat, and one of the most impressive photos Stuart provided to Maryhill Museum was of Annie at work. Images of women at the time working are quite rare. Annie's younger sister, Isabella, also worked in textiles as a cutter of undergarments.

Tailor Workshop. Annie is in the first row, second one to the right.

Annie was married on December 31st, 1920 at 135 Burnhouse Street, there is still a church in this location. This is listed as 'residence' on the marriage certificate, but this is likely the residence of the church where they were married, though the images of Annie being married were taken at the mysterious "Colina House". Stuart related that family lore states that Annie's wedding celebration at Colina House went on for two days. It seems unlikely that the Dunlop family would be able to celebrate for two days anywhere besides their own home. So it becomes less plausible that the Dunlops rented Colina House for the wedding. Stuart also related a memory passed down through his family of Colina House, having a path for boats that stretched from the house down to a dock on the canal. This also indicates that the Dunlops may have come into possession of Collina Cottage, as the Swans were shipbuilders.

Colina/Collina is an unusual word. In the case of the Swan family, it could be used to indicate the location of "Collina Cottage", on top of a hill overlooking Maryhill, as the word "Collina" means hill in Italian. However, that is conjecture and we don't know if the Swan family spoke Italian or had connections to Italy. In the case of the Dunlops, did they purchase Collina Cottage and live there while owning property on Duncruin Street, which they rented out? Was Isabella S.B Dunlop connected to Collina Cottage in some other way? Born there, perhaps? Or was it simply a coincidence? Strange, however, to have two homes, "Collina Cottage" and "Colina House" so close to each other during the same period of time, as well as for Isabella to have acquired the nickname 'Colina'. It's possible that Isabella fancied the name "Collina" and named her own home after it and subsequently acquired it as a nickname.

When the 1921 census is released, we hope we can discover more!

If you have any information about Collina House, please get in touch! info@mbht.org.uk

Maryhill and the ‘Ghost’ Junction

Words by a volunteer

If you have ever travelled westbound on the city centre section of the M8, you may have noticed a junction just before junction 17 that leads to a dead end. This ‘ghost’ junction is shown in the photograph below. Naturally, you may have wondered why such an, ostensibly, superfluous addition to the motorway had been constructed?

The answer to this question is directly linked to Maryhill. 

The ‘ghost’ junction on the M8 (The Scotsman)

The origins of the M8 motorway lie in the Bruce Report (or the First Planning Report to the Highways and Planning Committee of the Corporation of the City of Glasgow), which was published in 1945. The Bruce report was essentially a plan for the development of Glasgow which made several recommendations. Had it been implemented fully, central Glasgow would be very different from the central Glasgow that we know today.

For instance, the report recommended the demolition of Central Station, the Royal Infirmary, Glasgow City Chambers, and the Kelvingrove Museum, which did not go forward. However, one of the plan’s recommendations which was implemented was slum clearances and the construction of housing estates (such as Castlemilk, Drumchapel, and Easterhouse) on the periphery of Glasgow’s boundary.

Another of the plan’s recommendations, which was ultimately only partially implemented, was the construction of a box shaped inner Glasgow ring road (encircling Glasgow city centre) connected to several arterial motorways that were to run through four corners of the city.

Completed in 1972, the city centre section of the M8 forms the first half of the circumference of the proposed ring road. One of the arterial motorways was to connect the ring road to a motorway that would run through west of the city. This motorway would have run through Maryhill and was to be named the M81. The now ghost junction would have been the connection between the M8 and Maryhill.

When the plans for the Maryhill motorway were being drawn up, the Forth and Clyde canal was closed to navigation. Part of the route the Maryhill Motorway was to be built on the route of the canal, with the canal being diverted through underground pipes so that local industrial activity that relied of the water suppled by it could continue.

The two images below show the southern portion of the proposed motorway and the northern section of the proposed motorway respectively. The southern section was to connect with the city centre section of the M8 between junction 16 and 17. The plans for the southern section include slip roads on Possil Road and Bilsland Drive. The northern section would have left the route of the canal of Stockingfield lock. It also curved around the, then in the planning stage, Summerston residential development.

Southern Section (Glasgow Motorway Archive)

Northern Section (Glasgow Motorway Archive)

Consultation with the local public took place during the design phase of the Maryhill motorway. For example, a public meeting took place at Woodside Hall on the 26th of October 1972 that was attended by officials from Glasgow Corporation and elected representatives, whilst a public exhibition took place in Methodist Central Hall between the 24th of October 1972 and 28th of October 1972 that was attended by more than 3,300 people.

This public participation influenced the design of the motorway. However, strong opposition to the Maryhill Motorway from residents of Maryhill resulted in plans for its construction to be cancelled in 1975. Interestingly, the local protests included songs, protest marches and public petitions.

Do you have any memories of the Maryhill motorway plan? Were you in favour or did you take part in any protests?

Much more information about the Maryhill Motorway can be found on the website of the Scottish Roads Archive here.

City, people, and history: The connection between The Glasgow Police Museum and Maryhill Burgh Halls

Words by Hsiao-Chiang Wang and Yen-Ting Lin

Newspaper clipping from 1878 reported the completion of new municipal buildings in Maryhill. It begins with a positive statement about the future of the area: ‘Through the Burgh of Maryhill presents few attractions to the rambler in search of the picturesque, its development and dimensions exhibit many pleasing signs of progress.’ [Glasgow Police Museum]

Original Maryhill Police Station, 1857. [Glasgow Police Museum]

At the heart of Maryhill is Maryhill Burgh Halls, and its purpose has changed many times. The Burgh Halls building opened in 1878 as a community space, as well as a centre for policing and local governing. Maryhill Burgh Police station was located within the building, meaning the Halls were once central to the growth and development of the area. Since then, the area has continued to flourish and the local police office has moved to a different location. As the Burgh Halls has continued to develop and contribute to the community through the arts, heritage and culture over the last decade, perhaps its history as a police station has been forgotten.

However, it is interesting that both the Police and the Burgh Halls have set up museums with the intention to preserve the history and memories for the people, consequently allowing this knowledge to be available to the wider public. To date, the Maryhill Burgh Halls has continued to fulfil this duty, remaining a hub that commits to serving the community as its priority.

Travelling back to around 1850 , there was a time when there were serious riots occurring in Glasgow due to the pressure generated by the trade depression in Scotland, and the political upheaval in Europe. Likewise, the consequences of radical changes in the area- brought about by a large itinerant workforce through projects like the construction of the Glasgow & Dunbartonshire Railway- and rising crime rates, meant that there was a demand for a Maryhill Police Burgh and this was founded in 1856. At the time Maryhill became a Burgh, ‘The Captain’ George Anderson, was appointed as the first superintendent. The first Police station was opened in 1857 at the corner of Maryhill Road and Fingal Street. It not only provided space for a court and magistrate’s chambers, but also accommodation for the officers.

Moving forward a few decades, the expansion of the Maryhill Police Burgh force and the request for improvement of the space, triggered the movement to build a new Burgh Halls and Police Station. As a result, the new police station was established within the Burgh building on Gairbraid Avenue, off Maryhill Road. The original Maryhill Police Burgh force was subsequently merged into the force of Glasgow Police in 1891 and became the Maryhill Division..

Burgh Halls and Police Station, opened in 1878.

Current Maryhill Police Station, opened in 1978.

An interesting fact is there are unique connections, between the previous location of the police station and the development of the museums today, through some notable people. For example, Sir Alastair Dinsmor, the founder of the Glasgow Police Heritage Society, played multiple roles related to Maryhill throughout his career, and is known as the main founder, general director and leading curator of the Glasgow Police Museum. Investing in his hobby of collecting, he has developed a riveting record of being an enthusiastic collector of police memorabilia. He has been collecting items for more than 55 years and a few are from Maryhill Burgh Police. Coincidently, he was also previously an inspector who served in the Maryhill division.

Alastair introducing the police history of Maryhill. [Hsiao-Chiang Wang]

Bronze Medal of Citizen of Maryhill. [Hsiao-Chiang Wang]

Alastair joined the police force at age 16, serving as a policeman in Glasgow for 33 years, starting in 1965. He served in Maryhill between 1993 and 1997. From his perspective as a former policeman, Alastair notes that Maryhill is a vivid area that accommodates a mixture of backgrounds of people. Apart from his daily work such as crime prevention, riot training, and firearm management, he also needed to supervise sales in the alcohol trade. Thus, he had to visit Maryhill Burgh Halls to carry out this work locally.

Initially, he was interested in military history but after joining the police force, his passion turned to the history of policing and how it has evolved within society. Because of his interest in police history - and his motivation to create connections with other nations - he started the International Police Collection, with items dating from 1966.

Currently Alastair owns more than 8,000 items from countries all over the world. After retiring from the force, he founded the Glasgow Police Heritage Society in 1988. He led a project to establish the police museum in Glasgow between 2000 and 2002. Finally, the Glasgow Police Museum opened in May of 2002. The museum was run by retired police officer volunteers from the Society, and it is supported entirely by public donations. Despite not having a background in museum work, Alastair learned a plethora of skills for operating the attraction, including computer programming, collection management, and museum operation. The museum reaches out to the public through storylines and narratives via the richness of the objects on display, putting into action its mission of serving the community, in much the same way as Maryhill Museum does.

Figure 7 The world police collections in the Glasgow Police Museum. (Photo taken by Hsiao-Chiang)

In 2016, Alastair was presented with an MBE by Prince William at Buckingham Palace for his dedication to preserving history. In addition, the operation of the Glasgow Police Museum was acknowledged when it won the 'Best Day Out' award at the Glasgow Awards in 2019. These awards not only recognise the positive impact of the museum in the Glasgow community and its civic culture, but also emphasise the importance of growing as a cultural attraction. This resonates with the spirit of Maryhill Burgh Halls, and highlights the impact and goals of the museum. Maryhill residents past and present can share memories and insights of the past and write the stories of the future. Both Glasgow Police Museum and Maryhill Museum share an ethos of cherishing the achievements of the city, the people and the history of their communities.

The Curator Alastair and his MBE award. [Hsiao-Chiang Wang]

Bibliography

Black, B. (no date) ‘Maryhill-Police& Fire’.

Dinsmor, A. (no date) INTERNATIONAL POLICE COLLECTION. Available at: https://adintpolcol.tripod.com/ (Accessed: 17 December 2021).

Maryhill – Glasgow Police Museum (no date). Available at: http://www.policemuseum.org.uk/burgh-police/maryhill/ (Accessed: 17 December 2021).

Scottish Apprenticeship Week 2022: Digital Media

Words by Anna Fernie

Hi! I’m Anna, and as part of Scottish Apprenticeship Week, I’m sharing my experience as an apprentice at Maryhill Burgh Halls. But first, lets talk about Scottish Apprenticeship week.

This special week is dedicated to promoting apprenticeships in Scotland, and all the incredible opportunities they can bring. From engineering to working with children, there are almost no limits to the variety of apprenticeships available. On top of that, they allow you to work in the field you choose, rather than being stuck in a classroom! There are several types of apprenticeships available, making these accessible to all ages and experience levels. Interested? I hope so, as this week is the perfect time to check out the options available and peek at the events happening. Click here to find out more!

Anna’s design 1

Anna’s design 2

My own experience as an apprentice has been incredibly positive, and I have loved working at the Halls. Being able to go out and gain experience in my field has been great, and has additionally really benefited my CV. Personally, I am completing a Foundation Apprenticeship in Creative and Digital Media and have been on this work placement since September.

Anna’s flyer for the Glasgow Orchestral Society exhibition

During the time I’ve been working at the Halls, I’ve worked on many different projects, but mainly the social media posts that you have been seeing in the past months. Not only I came up with content to post, but I also developed the captions and worked on the visuals. I was also asked to create a video to celebrate the events and achievements of 2021! From taking photographs to produce ad hoc images, I had the opportunity to learn about several aspects of digital communications.

The most exciting project I have worked on at the Halls has to be our newest exhibition, Glasgow Orchestral Society: Celebrating 100 Years. With the help of the incredible people working here, I created the poster and graphic for the exhibition, and seeing my work getting used in a real-world context was amazing and extremely rewarding.

If you are interested in learning through experience, I would highly recommend checking out apprenticeships, and seeing what works for you. With this being the perfect week to do so, there is even more information and opportunities available, so don’t miss out!   

LGBT+ History Month: Reflecting on Glasgow

Words by Ian Perry

To celebrate LGBT+ history month, Maryhill Burgh Halls is reflecting on the progress of attitudes towards LGBTQ+ people in the surrounding area.  

Glasgow, as a whole, was known for its social conservatism and strict religious views that were often strongly against LGBTQ+ people, relationships, behaviour, and expression. Two years following the opening of the halls, the Criminal Law Amendment Act of 1885 made male same-sex sexual acts a criminal offence, which carried a two-year prison sentence. Nearly a century later, Scotland partially decriminalised homosexuality in 1980, however, attitudes generally take time to catch up. This is demonstrated succinctly in 80s pop outfit Bronksi Beat’s video to their hit Smalltown Boy:   

falsetto gay singer Jimmy Somerville is seen on a train, looking out the window at a passing urban scene, reminiscing about something that saddens him - we see a flashback of him admiring a chiselled, muscled straight guy, at a local swimming pool - he is beaten up by the guy and his pals in an alley outside - the police pick him up and take him home - as the policemen explain the reason for Jimmy's bruised face, his mother sobs, his father shakes his head and fists in disapproval, whilst Jimmy shamefully bows his head in their drab living room, resulting in him being kicked out of the family home, being slipped some cash, before boarding a train (the one from the beginning) with his pals and running away to the more queer-friendly big city of London.

Somerville undoubtedly used the bigotry he experienced growing up in his hometown of Milton, another working-class area of Glasgow, as the subject matter for the song and video, which depicted the kind of prejudice which was common in Glasgow during the 1980s. Prejudice was amplified nationwide in 1988 when Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government introduced anti-gay policy in the form of Section 28 (or known as clause 2A in Scotland). The clause stopped local authorities from “intentionally promoting homosexuality” in any publicly-owned building, which included museums, galleries and libraries.  

During the 1990s, grassroots activist organisation Glasgow Women’s Library sprung up in Garnethill (now based in Bridgeton). They played a significant role - under the guise of The Lesbian Avengers - in actively repealing the clause. Despite opposition from “committed Christian” Stagecoach owner Brian Souter’s ‘Keep the Clause’ campaign, the clause was successfully repealed in 2000 in Scotland.  

Photograph of the Glasgow Lesbian Avengers holding the made banner ‘We Recruit’ and protesting with other placard ‘We Object’ against Section 28. Part of GWL’s archive collection. © Author’s own.

LGBTQ+ inequalities were polarised in Glasgow at the Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA) 2009 exhibition ‘sh[OUT]’. The exhibition had many pieces which stirred divisive debate and opinion; garnering a backlash from political and religious groups, and culminating in meetings between council members and the Archdiocese of Glasgow to censor the most controversial pieces. However, academics evaluating the exhibition found that it helped promote understanding of transgender and intersex equalities and rights, and they suggested this resulted in legislation like The Equality Act (2010) coming into effect.

Recently, Glasgow has seen a huge shift in attitudes and open-mindedness with regard to same-sex relationships and different gender expressions. A thriving LGBTQ+ nightlife and drag scene can be found all over the city; from big commercial venues Polo Lounge, AXM (formerly Bennett’s), and Delmonica’s, to new queer co-op venue Bonjour (opened in 2020, and formerly an old man’s pub), along with alternative, avant-guarde queer clubnights, such as Shoot Your Shot and Hot Mess. Maryhill itself has shown inclusivity by screening LGBTQ+ film favourites, such as John Waters’ Polyester, featuring drag legend Divine, at the Community Central Halls on Maryhill Road through Seaboard Neighbourhood Cinema in 2018. With Scottish Glasgow-based drag queen Lawrence Chaney being crowned the winner of the second series of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK in 2021, who’s next to claim the prize? A drag queen called Mary Hill, perhaps!

Glasgow Orchestral Society exhibition: Advertising the Society

Written by a volunteer

The Maryhill Museum is currently hosting an exhibition of archival material narrating the 150-years history of the Glasgow Orchestral Society.  

The Glasgow Orchestral Society was formed on the 29th of December 1870 as an amateur musical group. They have used Maryhill Burgh Halls as a venue for their weekly rehearsals since October 2011.  

The Museum was given of a significant number of artefacts from the Society but we did not have the space to display them all. This article discusses a series of documents that are not on display pertaining to late 19th century newspaper media output. 

During the 19th century and beyond, GOS utilized the print media of newspapers for publicizing forthcoming practice sessions and concerts. Various newspapers also printed reviews of the Society’s concerts.   

What follows is a selection of invoices from newspapers and the respective advertisements that I collected by researching the British Newspaper Archive database and the Mitchell Library collection.

Forthcoming practice session printed in ‘The Evening Citizen’, September 1889

Below is a receipt dated 9th September 1889 to James Hedderwick & Sons for an advertisement in The Evening Citizen. The payment amount was 10 shillings and 6 pence. The Evening Citizen was the evening edition of The Glasgow Citizen which was first published in August 1864 and was one of the first of three evening newspapers to be printed, published, and sold in the Glasgow. It ceased publication in 1974.

The advert, which is shown below, was printed in the ‘Notices’ section on the front page of the paper on the 10th of September 1889.

Forthcoming practice session printed in ‘The Glasgow Evening News’ , September 1889.

 Below is a receipt dated 9th September 1889 for an advertisement in ‘The Glasgow Evening News’. The advert is a notification for the same practice session as discussed above. The payment amount was 10 shillings. The Glasgow Evening News was founded as ‘The Glasgow Evening Post’ in 1866. It was named ‘The Evening News’ from 1915 onwards. The newspaper ceased publishing in January 1957.

The advert, shown below, was published in the ‘Clydeside Echoes’ section on page four of the paper on the 12th of September 1889.

Forthcoming Concert printed in ‘The Evening Times’, April 1890

The receipt shown below is dated 11th of April 1890 and is for payment of 3 shillings and 4 pence to George Outram & Co for an advertisement in ‘The Evening Times’.  George Outram and Co was the publisher and printer of ‘The Evening Times’, ‘The Glasgow Herald’, ‘The Bulletin’, and a number of weekly periodicals up until 1903 when it was incorporated as a limited liability company George Outram & Co Ltd which existed up until 2002. ‘The Evening Times’ and ‘The Glasgow Herald’ (now just ‘The Herald’) are still being published today by Newsquest Media Group Ltd. The Herald is the longest running national newspaper in the world.

The advertisement, shown below, appeared on the front page of the paper on Saturday the 12th of April 1890 in the ‘Entertainments’ section.

Forthcoming Concert and Review printed in ‘The Glasgow Evening News’, December 1893

Below is a letter dated 18th of December 1893 from the publishers of ‘The Glasgow Evening News’ in response to a letter from the Glasgow Amateur Orchestral Society informing the publishers of a forthcoming concert. The letter states where notification of the concert will be published and it also states that the newspaper will send a reporter to the concert.

Notification of the forthcoming concert, shown below, was indeed published in The Glasgow Evening News on the 18th of December 1893 in the ‘Local Musical Notes’ section on page 2.

A review of the concert, shown below, was published in page two of ‘The Glasgow Evening News’ on the 22nd of December 1893.

To see some of the documents of the invoice, or to learn more about the Glasgow Orchestral Society in the late Victorian age, visit us Monday to Friday from 10am to 5pm.

Tickets are free but booking is essential. Contact us at info@mbht.org.uk or 0141 948 0700.

Glasgow Orchestral Society exhibition: The Langfier Scandal

Words by Ruairi Hawthorne

*This topic has been researched as part of the Glasgow Orchestral Society exhibition.

Louis Langfier was a Polish photographer who operated in Glasgow, Edinburgh and London throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries. While his date of birth is unknown, according to a 1901 census, he was living in London and was married to Pearl Langfier. He had two children: Eric and Iris who later claimed her father was a court appointed photographer. Indeed, his supposed list of clients is long and illustrious, from King George V to the King of Montenegro. However, despite his important place in history, very little is known about him, including his basic biographical dates of birth and immigration to Britain. It is only known that he came to Britain with his brother Adolf, whom he lived with for some time along with his family.

Langfier was a background player, always behind the camera, never in front of it. However, nearly 100 years after his death in 1925, it was uncovered through letters and journal entries that for a brief time, Louis was finally in the spotlight, at the centre of a scandal which he kicked off by simply taking the wrong photo of the wrong person.

The Glasgow Orchestral Society was founded in 1870 with the express purpose of bringing music and culture to their home city. The Society received praises but as amateurs they could never be fully appreciated by reviewers. They needed something to free them from the stigma of being amateurs and legitimize them as Glasgow's top orchestral society. Perhaps they decided that a professional photo could be just what they needed to overcome the negative perception of them as artless amateurs, and instead convey a sense of class and sophistication. And for that they sought best: Louis Langfier. To Langfier, this must have seemed like just another job in his long career. However, by accepting this job, he was indirectly starting a feud with the Orchestral Society, specifically one of its members.

Langfier’s invoice to GOS Director Mr Peacock, 1st July 1895

Officially, the Society hired Langfier to take a photograph of the group. In a letter displayed in the museum, the photographer details the nature of the commission, confirming the size in which the photograph will be printed and the type of plate in black and white. An invoice dated 1st July 1895 seals the transaction specifying the purchase of one group photograph at 7 shillings and 6 pence. However, through the letter of a Society’s member, it is understood that Langfier also took individual portraits of the amateur musicians during the session organised by the Society, but there’s no trail of documents in our possession testifying the organisation of these photographs. However, by reading what followed, it is clear that those would have been at the individual members’ expenses.

What is certain is that member Frederick Claasen was not satisfied with his portrait, saying he ‘‘hardly liked the twist in the mouth of one, and the posture of figure in the other’’ and demanded that Langfier send him another ‘retouched’ proof. However, in a separate letter to the Society’s director Mr Peacock, Claasen claimed Langfier never had his written consent to have that portrait taken and that he didn’t want it in the first place. According to the musician, the photographer demanded payment for the photo that he had already taken regardless, which Claasen refused. Due to Langfier’s insistence, Claasen attempted on multiple occasions to obtain the backing of the Society and have the matter resolved in front of the Society’s Committee, as mediators to the feud, but nothing came out of it.

Instead, after four unsuccessful attempts at delivery, Langfier resorted to legal action, having his lawyer contact Claasen on two separate occasions, each of which was ignored. It's unclear what would have happened if Claasen had continued to remain silent, however, the musician was enraged that his name could have been “dragged through the courts,” and insisted that this needed to be challenged with the full support of the Orchestral Society. He said it wouldn’t have been enough to just drop it after being twice ‘‘blackmailed’’ by Langfier. The displayed Claasen’s letter to the Orchestral Society was the last piece of documentation that we can find on the scandal, so to this day its outcome remains uncertain.

Was Langfier eventually granted his sought-after compensation, or did he decide to let the whole thing go? Was Claasen left to fend for himself, or did the Orchestral Society fight in his corner? Maybe one day the truth will come to light, but for now, we can only speculate. What we do know is that whatever the outcome of the dispute, it did not have any impact on Langfier’s career or the reputation of the Orchestral Society, proving perhaps that it was settled behind the scenes.

In the meantime, the Glasgow Orchestral Society went from strength to strength embracing their amateur status and refusing to cater to the unpleasable elite. Instead, they opted to stick to their strengths, breaching the confines of classical music and playing a variety of genres for a variety of audiences. To this day they are still dedicated to bringing escapism to the masses of Glasgow through the magic of music and I like to think that Langfier’s photograph, despite the minor conflict that it caused, played a small but significant part in getting them where they are today.

Unfortunately, this infamous photograph of the Orchestra was not in the Society’s archival collection. It is likely that the picture was one of the ‘casualties’ of the St Andrew’s Halls fire of 1962, that caused the loss of several instruments and material documenting the history of the Society.

 Trivia

• Between 1894 and 1898, Langfier’s studio was located in 202 Hope Street, just at the corner of Sauchiehall Street. He later moved to 137 Sauchiehall Street, not far from today’s Waterstones.

• Some of Langfier’s pictures are kept at the V&A and National Portrait Gallery in London, including that of King George V and his wife Queen Mary.

• According to the Glasgow Post Office directory of 1895, Frederick E. Claasen lived at 43 Dalhousie Street in Cowcaddens. He worked for Blackley, Young & Co, a company of merchants and agents based in 70 Wellington Street.

To see some of the documents of the scandal, to look at one of Langfier’s photographs from up close, or to learn more about Glasgow Orchestral Society, visit us Monday to Friday from 10am to 5pm.

Tickets are free but booking is essential. Contact us at info@mbht.org.uk or 0141 948 0700.

Langfier’s studio at 137 Sauchiehall Street, c.1910

Industry Along the Kelvin

Words by Ruth Currie

The Burgh of Maryhill grew up around the industry that developed along the Forth and Clyde Canal and its Glasgow Branch. But another waterway, the River Kelvin, flows through Maryhill. 

Today there is a walkway from the Clyde right up the river through parks and woods and beyond the city. Indeed, you can continue linking up to the West Highland Way and walk the next hundred miles to Fort William. However, this was not always the case. The Kelvin was formerly the site for many industrial works making use of the river for about 200 years. Let’s take a walk along just part of the Kelvin and into Maryhill and look at some of the industrial sites and the bridges.

Kelvinbridge, Great Western Road

Kelvin Bridge, c.1825

The present bridge is the third bridge on this site built in the 19th century as Glasgow expanded West into Woodside, then Hillhead (another Burgh like Maryhill). Underneath the bridge, what is now part of the Walkway and the car park, used to be railway lines and coal yards. The line then crossed the river entering tunnels under the grand red stone tenement, the Caledonia Building, which towered above. This building was originally planned as a hotel by the railway company. The railway continued on through tunnels to Kirklee and on to Maryhill. The terminus is currently located under the Maryhill Shopping Centre.  

Proceeding up the Kelvin as it enters the gorge, you can see the broken-down weir and some signs of former industries on the opposite bank, below the modern architects building. There are disused steps leading down to the river and a huge hole which carries the old Pinkston burn from the NE of the city - another area in which industry was rapidly expanding in during the 19th century. 

North Woodside Mill, 1855

The North Woodside Flint Mill

After crossing the modern footbridge to the north-east side of the river, you will see the ruins of a flint mill on the old Gariochmill Rd. The mill ground flint from 1846 until after WW2 for use in Glasgow’s once extensive pottery industry. The original mill here was a mill to grind barley, in the days when the whole area was agricultural. Then at the beginning of the nineteenth century this switched to making gunpowder for the Napoleonic Wars. The reason these mills were here was due to the water of the Kelvin flowing quickly through the gorge. 

A little upstream is the magnificent weir which was built to hold the fast-flowing river back, allowing a controlled amount of water to be sent down the lade to the mill where it was used to drive machinery. 

This whole area was eventually landscaped by Glasgow Corporation in the 1970s.So it is changed days with birdsong more noticeable than the sounds of industry. 

Bridges

Walker’s Bridge on Queen Margaret Drive.

Just below the weir are the piers to a bridge which was known as Walkers Bridge after the man who had it built in 1870. It enabled the occupants of the new houses of North Kelvinside to have access to Great Western Road. It was demolished in 1971. The very impressive Queen Margaret Bridge nearby was opened in 1929. As you pass under this bridge and continue along the walkway, you are still on the route of the old Garriochmill Rd.

After passing the first of two bridges on the left, the walkway continues uphill on the right to join the now Garrioch Road. The first bridge leads into the Botanic Gardens which was built in 1890. Further on there is another bridge. This is not the original but a replacement for the Ford Road or Ha’penny bridge, built in 1886. It was built by the owner of Kirklee house who charged a ha’penny for people to cross. He didn’t want the people of Maryhill to ‘invade his land’! The toll house is still there where the money was collected.

Kirklee Bridge

If you cross this bridge into Ford Road then turn right and back down the road into what is now the Botanic Gardens Arboretum, you will pass under the magnificent Granite Kirklee Bridge which was built for people from the east side of the river to access the station at Kirklee. It is difficult to imagine that this arboretum was once an industrial site. Nineteenth century maps show it as the Kirklee bleachfields. Bleaching was an important part of the textile process. The cotton industry was one of Glasgow’s most important industries.

Crossing the river once again on the modern footbridge you cannot miss the railway bridge structures. These lines were not only for passengers to Maryhill but also for access to the various factories and works on both sides of the Kelvin. Up to the right is Wyndford and the site of the original army barracks. 

Some industries

Kelvindale Paper Mill

One of the biggest and longest lasting of these local industries was the Kelvindale paper mill. 

These were located immediately across the Kelvin by Kelvindale bridge at the foot of Kelvindale Road. Originally, the building was founded in the 18th Century as a snuff mill. Snuff was ground tobacco which was sniffed rather than smoked.  From 1840 the large complex became a paper mill, belonging to Edward Collins & Son. The site was ideal as a lot of water is used in the manufacturing of paper. Like many other industries, the business finally closed in the 1970s. A few of the workers’ houses remain. The site is now utilised by private housing. 

A little further up the river there is a dramatic V- shaped weir. Water from here went through a lade to the works. 

 Before continuing under the canal, notice the pier in the middle of the river. This is now a roost for cormorants. 

Dawsholm Gas Works

Passing under the dramatic aqueduct carrying the canal, there are the remnants of yet another railway bridge that crossed the Kelvin. Soon after, is the modern road bridge at the foot of Cowal Street where modern houses have been built. This was the site of Dawsholm gas works, an enormous complex, bounded by the canal, the Kelvin and railway lines. Gas made from coal in the 19th and 20th century was first used to light both streets and houses. Gradually it took over from coal to be the main means of cooking and heating in the home. Electricity became the main form of lighting. Gas works existed in all towns and cities during that period. The pungent and stifling smell from the works will be remembered by people of older generations. In the 1970s gasworks became redundant as North Sea and other natural gas replaced coal gas. Two gas holders or gasometers still exist by Temple Rd. These were designed to store gas and would go up and down depending on how much was being held before distribution. 

This post has only mentioned a few of the works that have come and gone along the Kelvin. Long before there was any industry, the river’s water was used to drive the mills that ground the corn grown on nearby farms. It was the same force of water which could be used to drive machinery before the days of steam power and also to provide the large quantities of water used in the cotton and other industries. But that has changed. 

There is no industry left along the river. Instead, it has reverted to what it must have been like hundreds of years ago. The polluted waters of the old industries have gone. The clean waters now have fish in them again. Birds once more populate the banks. You can often see a heron just standing waiting for its next meal from the water. Cormorants too know they will get a meal. Other small birds live on the banks. Occasionally a kingfisher can be seen darting along. People can again just enjoy the river for what it is. But the remaining signs of industry can tell a story of Maryhill’s recent history. 

(As I write this in January 2021, the banks of the Kelvin are not so peaceful. Huge works are being undertaken to improve the old Victorian sewage system. But once this is finished the river will be even cleaner.) 

All pictures have been taken from Urquhart, G. R., ‘‘Along Great Western Road: An Illustrated History of Glasgow’s West End’’, Stenlake Publishing, 2000.

The ‘Steamie’ Laundry and the Woman of the Magdalene Institute

Words by Ruairi Hawthorne

While it has been out of commission for a long time, there remains one old venerable Glasgow institution that is still the talk of many former patrons.  

Women working in a Steamie c.1940

These patrons weave tales of the days when getting your laundry (and sometimes your body) washed was an adventure filled with blood, sweat and occasional tears, mouth-watering gossip, bountiful bottles and community comradery. These are the tales of the old Glasgow steamies, a place where friendships were formed, information exchanged and, of course, clothes washed.  

Although these luxurious laundries were primarily used for washing purposes, they are mostly remembered as more of a community hub for overworked mothers to convene, chat, and update each other on all the latest local gossip.  

Steamies were also a place for many unwilling children to be dragged, kicking and screaming to, by their mothers to be washed, often followed by reparations in the form of a hot roll from a nearby bakery or a trip to a nearby swimming pool (which often shared the same space as the steamie and wash house). From the first wheelbarrow full of dirty washing to the final dispersal of a group of gossips, the steamies have always been there for maligned mothers, weeping widows, and grateful grandmothers alike.  

Unfortunately, like all things, there is a dark side to the Glasgow steamies. While most former patrons see the old laundries as epitomising the sense of community that has been lost in the present day, a woman who worked in one of them tells a very different story.  

The Glasgow Magdalene Institution c.1890

The Glasgow Magdalane Institution was for the Repression of Vice and the Rehabilitation of Penitent Females opened 1812 with the express purpose of combating the immoral trade of female prostitution. Wayward girls who were not pregnant or were free of any venereal diseases were given a chance to repent through labour. Very often these women were put to work in the washroom of the Institute and were rewarded with a payslip and free accommodation in addition to learning crucial skills to enable them to get a respectable job when they left. Well, that was the pitch anyway. In reality, the institute was just a new cog in the recently established ‘‘Glasgow System’’. This term was used in reference to the treatment of “prostitutes” in Glasgow in the 19th century by the local police and medical authorities, who colluded to ensure that such women were proven either mentally or physically unwell, leading to their indefinite incarceration. If this wasn’t bad enough, the term “prostitute” was being used rather loosely as a badge of shame to any woman whose behaviour was deemed immoral, such as socialists, unwed mothers, and those whose dress sense was not quite up to snuff. If these women were found to have any sort of venereal disease, they would usually end up having a permanent stay in a place like the Lock Hospital. However, if they were deemed only to be ‘mentally degenerate’, they would end up in a place like the Magdalene Institute.

While the girls were paid for their services, their pay was so meagre that it might as well have been free labour. The “free accommodation” was more like imprisonment and many of these women were never able to leave, making the accruement of workplace skills rather redundant. To be fair, some of these women chose to come to these places of their own free will to find salvation and could leave whenever they wanted. However, often this trust was met with judgement and abuse from the staff. Some of the other women were placed there against their will by parents or social workers and could only leave at the latter’s discretion, making their stay at the institute feel more like a prison sentence; some of the time their stay was permanent. Quite a departure from the conclave of gossiping women that springs to mind when most people think of the old Glasgow steamies.

Young Irish women in a Magdalene Institute

Unfortunately, the Glasgow System and its main beneficiary, the Magdalene Institutes, where both adopted outside of the UK in places including Ireland, the United States, Canada, Sweden and Australia. Of course, not all of these institutes were cut from the same cloth and each adopted different approaches to the treatment of their charges. For example, the Magdalene Society of Philadelphia attempted to function as a refuge for women who were trying to escape unhappy family situations, poverty, disease and abusive men.  

Unlike the early Scottish institutes, these women could come and go as they pleased, with many of them getting into a cycle of staying for a few weeks, leaving and then re-entering. This proved to be ineffective at curbing the difficulties that these women faced upon their departure and a stricter policy was implemented that required charges to stay for a minimum of two months. While the institutes harshened their policy on the length of a tenant’s stay (leading to less woman admitting themselves), the nuns severely relaxed the unspoken policy of guilt and judgement directed at these fallen women, finding that it only perpetuated the tragic cycle of self-hatred. Not everyone learned this lesson however, as the New York Magdalene Society ran things in the traditional, judgemental and prison-like fashion, with many women being forcibly committed for up to three years, compelling many to injury and even death in failed escape attempts. Many of these women were taken against their will from their place of work, which varied from brothels to taverns. This was all done under the pretence of saving them from disease, abuse and most of all, themselves and their immoral behaviour.  

However, just as in the Glasgow asylums, these words proved to be hollow and in fact, most of the evils that the institute seemingly protected these women from could easily be found within its own walls. For one, unlike the Glasgow asylums, the New York institute allowed women with venereal diseases within their walls and even attempted amateurish medical treatment. In lieu of innovative medicine like Penicillin for the treatment of such ailments, many new arrivals were given mercury to treat syphilis. This was common practice at the time but was unsafe and often led to patients being poisoned, to the point where the symptoms of mercury poisoning were often confused for syphilis until as late as the early 1920s. 

The New York Institute

 As for abuse, well just like many of their contemporaries, the sisters of the New York institute were extremely judgemental and hostile to their charges, often seeing them as lost causes who could never re-integrate into society, which, in their eyes, justified their indefinite incarceration.  

Thankfully, the Congregation of the sisters of Misericorde, which was based in Canada, where much more sympathetic. Founded by experienced midwife Marie Rosaline in 1848, it specialised in taking care of unmarried pregnant woman until the birth of their children whom they were heavily encouraged to put up for adoption. While this might not sound very progressive, the nuns of the congregation where quite sympathetic to their charges and hoped that adoption would bring a more prosperous life for these children. However, the mere thought of unwed mothers being taken care of was outrageous to many, who saw this as encouraging immoral behaviour. This incentivised the nuns to do their work as discreetly as they could, as they knew that these women would not be met with nearly as much sympathy when they left the Congregation. Many of the nuns saw the major social stigma of giving birth out of wedlock as being the main reason that so many women turned to prostitution in lieu of other employment options as they had no choice.  

Marie Rosaline, founder of the Congregation of the Sisters of Misericorde

Marie was particularly dedicated to the women in her care, often going hungry to feed them if food was scarce and she was known to say that: “Single mothers are the treasure of the house.”. She even used her own home and the homes of her adult children to shelter these women until she was able to acquire proper accommodation. She would even allow them to stay with the congregation after they gave birth and in doing so, she kept them from the cruel world that awaited them outside. This made her congregation one of the only institutes to bear the name Magdalene that actually was a sanctuary for woman, as so many of them falsely claimed to be. 

One of the worst examples of this was in Ireland. In 1767, the Magdalene Asylum for Penitent Females was opened in Dublin and was only the first in a long list of such institutes in Ireland, with the final one only closing in 1996. This particular institute only accepted protestant women and played a similar role to the Glasgow Institutes: to give the police, medical authorities and church a place to quietly tuck away any “undesirable women” sometimes indefinitely. This institute and its many contemporaries where especially harsh, which was partly due to the grip that religious organisations had on Ireland at the time. Like Glasgow’s extremely versatile use of the term “prostitute”, the sisters of the institutes used the term “fallen woman” rather loosely, and it became an all-encompassing term for any woman who did not conform to the very rigid standards of Irish morality. Expansion was rapid and many more institutes were opened throughout the country. However, more laundries meant more workers were needed to operate them, which led to the word “fallen” becoming even more flexible to accommodate the forced labour of more woman. As time went on, it became evermore apparent that unlike Miss Rosaline’s establishment, the institute’s stated mission of “protect, reform and rehabilitate” was far from the top priority of the Magdalene Asylum and its contemporaries.   

Daily Record’s front page dedicated to the 1958 breakout from the Glasgow Institute

For decades the suffering of these women went unheard and the institutes were able to operate without interference. However, in the Glasgow Institution, the residents made it impossible to be ignored. In 1958, 27 inmates escaped the institute and scattered through the streets. Some left through the fire escape while others fled to the roof to protest. To this day, no one knows who, if anyone, led the escape and what could have been the final straw for these women, who had already suffered through years of abuse and ill treatment despite committing no crime. They were hunted by the police, who justified their ruthless pursuit by claiming that the woman had staged a violent riot at the institute, and the public were told to keep watch for them. Their newfound freedom didn’t last long however, as eventually all 27 women were rounded up and returned to the institute, a task that was made relatively easy due to their distinctive blue dresses.  

But the spark of rebellion had already been ignited and another breakout was staged, followed by many more. Every time they were caught, they would vow to escape until their voices were heard. While their freedom was always fleeting, eventually their struggle bore fruit as their claims of mistreatment were finally investigated by the Scottish Home Department. However, by this point these victims of the “Glasgow System” knew better than anyone that injustice would prevail as it had since the institute’s opening, that the Home Department was just another cog in this system and that this investigation would be a mere formality. If they wanted true freedom, they would have to make one final effort that could not be ignored.  

When representatives of the home office arrived at the institution to conduct their investigation, the women instigated another breakout, and while they were unable to substantiate any of their claims of abuse, they didn’t have to. In 1958, more than 100 years after its opening, the Glasgow Institute finally closed its doors after years of silent abuse.    

One would assume that such a significant event would have created a scandalous ripple that would have affected the other Magdalene Asylums, as well as the various churches and governments that supported them but even after such a high-profile closure, the Glasgow Institute was barely commented on in the press. Even when the home office launched an official enquiry, not a single person was held accountable for the alleged abuses. 

 Additionally, many of the other Asylums that were scattered across the globe continued to operate. Northern Ireland was probably the worst example of this, with its final institution only closing its doors in 1996. This was preceded by the discovery of a mass grave on the premisses of a former institute, “The Sisters of Our Lady of Charity”, which was discovered by the land's current owner in 1993. This incident, as well as the subsequent attempt by the sisters to exhume and cremate the dead women ended up shining a brighter spotlight on the system of abuse and control that had permeated Ireland for hundreds of years. This sparked a wave of press coverage and investigations throughout the 1990s and 2000s, with documentaries such as 1998’s Chanell 4 production, “Sex in a Cold Climate”, as well as the 2002 drama “The Magdalene Sisters”. This type of mainstream media exposure resulted in many more woman coming forward, with roughly 450 women contacting a helpline after the initial airing of “Sex in a Cold Climate”.  

In 2001 the Irish Government acknowledged the existence of the asylums for the first time. However, despite their major role in filling the institutes with wayward women, they accepted no responsibility and refused to investigate further. It wasn’t until 2011 that, after years of lobbying from the group “Justice for Magdalene's”, that the government finally launched an official inquiry into the asylums, and after a further 18 months of investigation, admitted that there had been “significant state collusion” with the institutes. Even then, none of the survivor's accounts of physical abuse, horrendous living conditions and forced labour were ever confirmed, with verbal abuse being the full extent of the sister's cruelty in the report. 

 Additionally, the report suggested that the residents were actually free to leave whenever they wanted, much as in some of the other institutes previously mentioned, which led many to speculate that the government was attempting to soften the perception of the institutes and diminish their culpability for the suffering of 11,000 women. Even after the report was published, there was still no talk of a formal apology from the government or a compensation scheme for the many surviving women. These both came in 2013, with Enda Kennedy issuing a formal apology on the behalf of the state government, describing the institutes as the nation's shame and declared that a compensation scheme would be initiated that would include both financial and psychological support.  

Group of Magdalene Campaigners, 2017.

On the other hand, the Catholic Church, who were arguably just as guilty as the state, with two anonymous sisters even claiming that they had provided a free service, and that they were being used as a scapegoat for a myriad of other social issues that had caused the suffering of these women. In addition, none of the three major religious institutes that had run the laundries contributed at all to the compensation of the 600 or so surviving victims, and to this day have refused to acknowledge their role in the exploitation and lasting trauma of these women. While the delayed response of the Irish government and the complete apathy of the church is abhorrent, at least it was talked about.  

Most of the other Magdalene Institutes have barely been mentioned in the press, and when they have, they have often been defended as a necessary measure to combat the plague of prostitution. While some of the institutes were genuine in their endeavour to save these so-called fallen women, most of them merely used this pretence to lock away any woman who strayed from the very narrow path of moral decency, subsequently being exploited for a profit. While the local governments where either indifferent or active participants in this abusive system, the only person who made a significant effort to help the Magdalene women, besides the women themselves, was Jacob Christian Shaffer, the creator of the washing machine. 

Ruchill Hospital Revisited

Ruchill Hospital, c. 1922 [Virtual Mitchell]

 Words by Helena Paterson 

On my return to Scotland ten years ago, after almost 25 years in the Far East, I looked forward to revisiting the Ruchill Hospital. This was only one item on my to-do list. I had worked there as a nurse in 1979 and have many fond memories of the patients there. 

Alexander B. McDonald

In the Beginning 

Glasgow Corporation acquired the site of Ruchill Park for the construction of Ruchill Hospital in 1892. The hospital was officially opened on 13th June, 1900 by Princess Christian, 3rd daughter of Queen Victoria; formerly known as Princess Helena before her marriage to a German prince. Designed by city engineer, Alexander B. McDonald, it was an impressive hospital complex in its Flemish Renaissance style with a touch of Neo-Jacobean, built with red brick and Locharbriggs sandstone. The layout of the hospital was to represent a self-contained village with the individual ward pavilions with their scalloped gables, symmetrically arranged on the steep hilly terrain. At this elevation and being adjacent to Ruchill Park, the site was considered ideal for patients to get plenty of fresh air and sunshine in a city that was for the most part industrial. This was the second fever hospital in Glasgow; the first being Belvidere Hospital in Parkhead which was becoming increasingly cramped.   At the time most of the patients suffered from infectious diseases that were rife at the time such as polio, measles, scarlet fever and diphtheria. 

The Main Staircase 

The entrance to the hospital was by a gatehouse on Bilsland Drive. Straight ahead was a very steep stone staircase that led to an administrative block. The staircase comprised four flights with landings in between, having to ascend a steep gradient.  The stonework was decorative with its stylised balustrade complementing the Flemish Renaissance style of the hospital, octagonal newel posts and corniced piers. Other buildings included the kitchen, laundry, mortuary, laboratory, sanitary wash house and disinfecting station, as well as a stables block. Accommodation was provided for staff with a three-storey nurses’ block. Fortunately, I never had to climb those steps; I could turn left at the gatehouse and follow a path that led to the ward I was assigned to. 

The Water Tower  

The centrepiece of the complex is the 50m high water tower. It is a tall, square red brick and stone tower resting on a pedestal, with a decorated two-stage body and a complex three-stage head resembling a Flemish bell tower. It is decorated with octagonal turrets, bell-roofed with onion finials at the corners of the first stage then another octagonal tower with a pyramid roof, drum of columns, cupola with foliage top and a finial to top the stage head. Its four large water tanks were removed during restoration in 2014. It’s such a pity that with the tower being so tall, one cannot see and admire all the details. However, an ambitious local has taken some video glimpses of it with a remote device which can be viewed in YouTube. It reveals such beautiful sculpture and architectural detail. 

A Few Interesting Characters                                                

  (Patients’ names have been changed to protect their identities) 

Fun-loving Frankie 

Many of the patients I saw in Ruchill Hospital were bed-ridden with various diseases but that didn’t stop them from getting their fun in any way they could, often with a willing accomplice in a young male nurse. I had just started working at the hospital and being so young I was pretty naïve and innocent. On that first day, I was working with the male nurse attending to Frankie’s needs when the nurse took a tin of peanuts from the patient’s locker and asked me if I’d like one. I declined the offer as I didn’t feel comfortable taking anything that belonged to the patient. Then Frankie insisted I take some stating that he couldn’t eat them as he had no teeth. Neither of them would take no for an answer so I relented and took off the lid. However, I immediately let out a scream and dropped the tin when something suddenly leapt out at top speed. It was not a real tin of peanuts but a trick one with a large spring inside a leopard print cotton cover. The two pranksters were in fits of laughter. I was somewhat embarrassed but I was happy that Frankie had some fun that day. I thought these two must have tried that one on every ‘newbie’. 

Flirty Phillip 

Helena, a colleague, and three patients.

Phillip was a middle-aged man who suffered from motor neurone disease which left him paralysed from the neck down. However, he was always cheerful despite his physical limitations. When he had to be hoisted onto mobile apparatus to take him for his bath, he would sing out loudly and tell jokes. He was a very intelligent and well-educated man who would often quote poetry to me. He would always quote a line containing the phrase ‘eyes like limpid pools’ whenever I entered his ward. His teasing would embarrass me as I was only 19 years old then but he was a very nice man and I admired his long-suffering attitude and positivity. Recently, I tried to find out where this phrase came from and all I could find were these two possibilities: 

1. An article in Esquire Magazine 1940 

1. Bugs Bunny’s friend, Pepe Le Peue was fond of using this phrase 

I’m not sure which one Phillip was referencing but I hope it was the former, otherwise he was really having fun at my expense-not that I mind as he was a lovable character. 

Frail Florrie  

Florrie was a very small elderly lady who suffered from a bone disease and looked even smaller being permanently hunched over. She didn’t speak much but liked to wander around the ward. One day she went missing. I had just come on duty so immediately joined the search party. Indoors and outdoors were searched thoroughly but to no avail. The police had to be called. Whilst awaiting their arrival, I checked through all the rooms again and ended up in a vacant room at the end of the ward. There were beds stacked along one wall and the rest of the room was clear. I stood there wondering where she could be when I heard a whimpering sound. The only place to look was under the beds and there Florrie was, curled up like a little field mouse right at the back. She was too far in for me to reach her so I called for the male Charge Nurse. He crawled under and brought her out to safety. Another call to the police was needed. I was just glad she was safe and sound. 

A Sad State of Affairs 

I tried to find out what had been happening at the Ruchill Hospital since I left the country and was deeply shocked and saddened at the conditions I saw it in: neglected, abandoned, forlorn and in a state of decay. My plan for a stroll around the grounds, taking a trip down ‘Memory Lane’ was now scuppered. It had closed on 3rd December, 1998. Through photographs that had been posted on Urbanglasgow.co.uk, I could see the conditions inside the hospital before its demolition. 

The scenes captured in these photos showed a depressing situation. It was like the devastation after some natural disaster or war. The cracked walls and peeling paint at random depths resembled an aerial view of a parched land after a severe drought. Only the ceramic tiles remained intact. Lagging dangled from the exposed ceiling and roof like streamers abandoned after a party. Sunlight streamed through the many gaps in the roof. Debris from the collapsed roof was strewn over the floors. One photograph showed a collapsed ceiling with its multiple layers spilling through like a pack of cards suspended in mid-air, creating quite a surreal image. The rafters were still fighting the sagging roof above. Due to water ingress from the exposed roof which had been stripped of its lead, large puddles were dotted along all the corridors. The once beautiful and ornate staircases were in ruins. Some newels had survived though bent and twisted out of shape. The first few metres of a fire hose snaked under fallen rubble and thick layers of dust. A collapsed floor revealed one of the hospital’s service tunnels below. Many interior fittings had been torn out. All the buildings had suffered badly from vandalism too. A plain white clock mounted high on a wall had stopped at 9.30. ETA : Estimated time of abandonment? 

With the many broken windows , the buildings had become a sanctuary for wildlife. Some people had reported seeing foxes in the grounds. No doubt, many other creatures such as mice, birds and squirrels, as well as an infinite variety of insects, would have taken up residence there. Their tiny heartbeats would be the only active pulses then. 

Update  

According to the Glasgow Times, October 2020 / August 2021, 403 homes are to be built on the hospital site ie. 160 flats across 10 blocks and 243 houses. There will also be 658 car parking spaces available. Most of the hospital buildings have already been demolished. Sections of the listed main staircase’s balustrade have collapsed and others are misaligned. The top west pier has collapsed and the ball finials from the bottom piers lost. It had been slated for demolition too but will now be opened up with a lighting scheme. Only the A-listed water tower will remain as the centrepiece of the housing estate and that area will be pedestrianised. Bellway Homes says it aims to, ‘deliver a bespoke residential development, providing much needed high-quality family homes to the area’ and ‘seeks to reach the highest standards in urban design…’. All the homes, built using red brick – a nod to the former hospital buildings - will be incorporated into mini neighbourhoods and are for private sale. To enhance the areas east and west of the site, two large parks and some smaller parks have been provided. 

It is evident that the hospital buildings had become unsafe and beyond repair so it is understandable that they had to be demolished. However, we can look forward to seeing the beautiful housing estate that is planned for this historic site. 

 As for me, I’ll still take that walk around the new estate and picture in my mind’s eye the wards and other buildings that once functioned there.  

Useful links 

• To take a virtual walk around the hospital corridors visit: 

                Ruchill Hospital - YouTube  Film footage of derelict Ruchill Hospital, taken in May 2009 

• To view a large selection of still photos visit: urbanglasgow.co.uk 

• YouTube videos give a close up tour of the water tower  

Trivia  

• The illustration on the cover of the invitation to the opening of the Ruchill Hospital is Balmoral Castle, not the hospital itself 

• Jessie McTavish, a nurse, was convicted of murdering a patient with insulin at the hospital in 1974 

• The filming of the BBC TV programme "Cardiac Arrest" (1994) was on location at Ruchill Hospital.  

Series 1 & 2 

This is your: Maryhill Flag!

You asked we delivered!

The winning #AFlagForMaryhill has been unveiled.

Special thanks to our Heritage Manager Nicola, our volunteer Ian, Emma and Sami from the Shakespeare Street Youth Club, and the piper for marking this special day!

Flag B is "A modern take on a traditional tricolour flag representing a narrow boat as traditionally seen on the Forth & Clyde Canal. The red represents community passion, and the black symbolizes Maryhill’s industrial past. Lastly, the blue represents the waterways of the Forth and Clyde Canal and the river Kelvin that cross in Maryhill."

We would like to extend a thank you to every individual, group and organisation who came along and made this day a success.

Well done to the designer of Flag B for gaining the most votes. Their design will go on and represent Maryhill!

Additionally, The MBHT team would like to thank you all for your participation in the year long competition.

'A Flag for Maryhill' has brought our community together to reflect on our shared history and look towards the future.

"It is wonderful to see the winning design mirror ideas from former insignia used by Maryhill. As such it shows the continued resonance of these symbols in the town to this day, and it is nice that we are able to finally provide the official recognition to them by adding the design alongside the Saltire and other flags in the Public Register of All Arms and Bearings in Scotland." - Philip Tibbetts (Lyon Court Vexillologist)

A member of the local community commented on the Flag Launch & Gala day event:

"Flag Launch Day is the true re-opening the Halls. I see this event as a step towards normality. Hopefully getting our own flag strengthens our relationship with Maryhill".

#ThisIsYourMaryhillFlag

Halls manager Melanie Farrow standing beside winning #AFlagForMaryhill

A Flag For Maryhill: Flag Launch & Gala Day

The Glasgow community of Maryhill is set to get its own flag this October, for the first time in the area’s two-hundred-year history.  

It follows a unique, year-long competition involving hundreds of individuals, local schools and community groups who were all given the chance to submit a proposed design thanks to a £2,000 community regeneration fund.  

The ‘A Flag for Maryhill’ project, an idea conceived by staff and volunteers at Maryhill Burgh Halls during the COVID-19 pandemic, is designed to allow a community of around 75,000 people the chance to reflect on a shared history and look with pride to the future.   

A judging panel - consisting of world leading experts from the Flag Institute, the Lyon Court (who maintains Scotland’s register of grants of arms and regulates heraldry) through to comedian Janey Godley and Still Game actress Jane McCarry – whittled the entries down to just five before the shortlist was opened to a public vote.  

Flag experts Philip Tibbetts (the Lyon Court Vexillologist) and Lord Lyon are saddened that they cannot attend the unveiling in Maryhill: “It will be present in our mind whilst we perform ceremonial duties for the nation at the Scottish Parliament today”. They are happy to finally provide official recognition to the Flag of Maryhill by “Adding the winning design alongside the Saltire and other flags in the Public Register of All Arms and Bearings in Scotland”.

The flag project has attracted attention and support from across Scotland and beyond with the likes of Tim Marshall, the author of the best-selling book ‘Worth Dying For: The Power and Politics of Flags’ remarking “Flags represent our hopes and dreams, they represent the politics of high power as well as the politics of the people. The world is a confusing place right now and we need to understand the symbols, old and new, that can divide or unite us.”   

Flags are an ancient art form that developed especially to clearly display allegiance and identity. They have subsequently become the premier medium for expressing social pride, indeed it is difficult to imagine events as diverse as sports matches, military parades or musical festivals without a wide range of flags being flown.  

The winning flag, which will be unfurled at a community street party on October 2nd, following which the design will be made available to all at no cost.   

Event Details   

Date: Saturday 2nd Oct 2021  

Times: 11am - 4pm  

Doors Open Days Festival

This year we are participating in the Doors Open Days Festival. Doors Open Days provides the opportunity for people to visit new venues and celebrate their heritage.

This event is coordinated nationally by the Scottish Civic Trust and is part of European Heritage Days alongside Scottish Archaeology Month, coordinated by Archaeology Scotland. Both are supported by Historic Environment Scotland

There is a series of fun events taking place throughout the 18th and 19th September at Maryhill Burgh Halls. The Halls will be open from 10:00 to 17:00, so make sure you make the most of it.

You can visit the Halls for a tour on either the 18th and 19th September (11:00 & 14:00).

Additional events:

Drop-in Art Session

18-19 September 2021 (10:00-16:00)

Loving Earth Exhibition

18-19 September 2021 (10:00-17:00)

Something Smashing

19 September 2021 (12:00-15:00)

All events are free and made accessible to all.

You can browse the programme on the Doors Open Days website for more information:

https://bit.ly/DoorsOpenDayProgramme

#AFlagForMaryhill finalists announced!

On August 31st 2020 we launched a competition which invited individuals, community groups and schools to design a community flag. 'A Flag for Maryhill' has brought our community together to reflect on our shared history and look to our future.

Below you can find the top five designs selected by our judging panel. Congratulations to our finalists!

Public voting has now commenced and can be done online through our Facbook or in person at the halls. Tickets are free but booking is essential. Book over the phone: 0141 948 0700 or by email: info@mbht.org.uk.

If you are struggling to pick a favourite, take a look at the inspiration behind each unique design. Many took their inspiration from unique features of our landscape and from the history associated with the local barracks.

Happy voting!

Design A:

The ‘M’ shape represents hills and the first letter of Maryhill. The blue ‘V’ represents the River Kelvin and the Canal that run through the heart of Maryhill.

Design B:

A modern take on a traditional tricolour flag representing a narrow boat as traditionally seen on the Forth & Clyde Canal. The red represents community passion and the black symbolizes Maryhill’s industrial past. Lastly, the blue represents the waterways of the Forth and Clyde Canal and the river Kelvin that cross in Maryhill.

Design C:

The central badge is part of that of the Highland Light Infantry who were based at the Wyndford Barracks.The red and yellow are the colours of Partick thistle, our local team – affectionately known as the Jags.

Design D:

The design celebrates the architectural accomplishment of the Forth and Clyde Canal, as well as the Kelvin Aqueduct which initiated settlement into the area. It may also appear to look like iron chains, representing the ironworks and the dry docks which spurred industrial growth in the area.

Design E:

The green in the flag represents Maryhill's nature, while the golden sides represents the city's history and past. The blue represents Maryhill's canals. The elephant and bugle are featured on the flag because they were the symbol of the HLI, who were famously stationed in Maryhill.

Meet the team: Maryhill Burgh Halls Trust

Its been a while, hasn't it? Allow us to reintroduce ourselves! While we have been preparing to re-open our doors, our friendly staff and volunteers have been on Twitter sharing what they are most looking forward to about welcoming you back to the halls.

Maryhill Burgh Halls Trust re-opens its doors to the public on Monday 5th July and we are so excited – we’ve missed you all so much!

Emma: Volunteer

‘I’m most looking forward to starting our valuable community projects.’

Nicola: Heritage Development & Community Engagement Manager

‘I’m most looking forward to seeing people back in the Halls enjoying our new exhibits and teaching me about the bits of Maryhill history I don’t yet know about.’

Laura: Communications Coordinator

‘I’m most looking forward to connecting more with the Maryhill community and hearing about their memories and experiences!’

Lucy: Volunteer

‘I’m looking forward to seeing the different expressions when people are looking at the exhibitions and I’m looking forward to being able to interact with them.’

Robin: Events and Halls Coordinator

‘I’m most looking forward to welcoming back our regular hires to the Halls, as well as engaging with new and exciting organisations post COVID-19.’

Helena: Volunteer

‘I’m looking forward to returning to the Halls to help out in any way I can. I particularly like researching the area as Maryhill has a rich history.’

Aurora: Admin Assistant

‘I’m most looking forward to welcoming back the public into the halls and seeing it becoming a point of reference for the community again.’

Melanie: Halls Manager

‘I can’t wait to be working with our volunteers and team to welcome back visitors, clients and the community to our building. I am thrilled to see the building fulfilling its purpose once again.’

Holly: Unofficial Mascot

‘I’m most looking forward to having more people around who can give me an endless supply of treats. The walkies down by the canal aren’t half bad either. Woof!’

Connect with us on social media to see what we have planned for re-opening the halls.

See you (very) soon!

Heritage, mindfulness and museum learning: My work experience at Maryhill Burgh Halls

Hello! My name is Kirsty Reid and I’m a student on the MSc Museum Education course at the University of Glasgow. For the last month I’ve been working at Maryhill Burgh Halls as part of my student placement, which I’ll be sharing a little bit about with you today.

I chose Maryhill Burgh Halls as my placement selection as I was born and raised in Maryhill myself, and I thought this would be a great way of getting to know my own local history a bit better whilst gaining some experience in museum learning.

You might be wondering what museum education or museum learning actually is (I get asked this a lot by family and friends as no one has a clue what I actually study!). The education part of museums focuses on interpretation (such as the little written labels you see next to objects), delivering educational sessions to schools or local community groups, and designing or adapting new learning resources such as trails for people to participate in when they visit. You could say a museum educator bridges the gap between the curator’s exhibitions and the visitor.

My project for my placement was to create 3 new learning activities for the spring and summer period, which could be done at home. My first task was to start researching the collections at the Halls, and information about the local history of Maryhill to get some ideas. I came across the Maryhill Stained Glass Panels which I thought were really interesting. They were created by Stephen Adam in the 1800s for the Halls, and depict 20 different local industries that were mostly located along the Canal. One of these was the Glass Works, and was where the Murano Street Student Village is now. I discovered Murano Street is named after the Murano Glass Works in Venice!

Maryhill Stained Glass Panels

What is sad to see is that these local industries have slowly disappeared over the years, but we can learn about what kind of place Maryhill used to be through the Maryhill stained glass panels. With this in mind, I came up with two activities directly inspired by the panels. One of the panels I particularly liked was the Papermaker. Paper is a material that has remained in our daily lives, yet we are far removed from the process of how it is made. Papermaking is actually a relatively simple process, and by making your own you can learn about how the man in the Papermaker panel made paper down by the River Kelvin. I decided to create a Handmade Paper tutorial, which you can do at home with only a few materials. I had lots of fun making my own handmade paper for the example!

The Paper Maker

Another aspect of the panels I liked was the visual design. They’re very detailed, and the colours are vibrant, especially when the sun shines through them. The second activity I came up with was a collage artwork, which you create in the style of a stained glass panel. It also includes a walk around your local area to discover the patterns and colours you use to create the collage. If you live in Maryhill this is a great way to discover some of the outdoor heritage in the local area!

I wanted to expand my idea of the outdoors a bit more, so for my final activity I adapted one of the heritage trails you can find on the Maryhill Burgh Halls website. As we have all been stuck indoors for the majority of the last year during the lockdowns, it’s important that we all look after our mental health. It has been a stressful time, but getting into nature and going on walks can help tremendously with making us feel a bit more relaxed. With this as my focus, I adapted the South Maryhill heritage walk to create the Maryhill Mindfulness Trail. Using ten stops from the original trail, this walk takes you in a loop around some peaceful spots such as the Canal and the Kelvin Walkway. At each stop you also learn a bit about it’s history and a mindfulness technique to help you enjoy a tranquil walk. The wonderful designers from Boon Studio in Glasgow created the design for the guides, which you can pick up at the Halls to try yourself!

Maryhill Mindfulness Trail

A mindful walk along Maryhill Canal!

I had so much fun creating all of the learning activities, especially the Mindfulness trail, as I really enjoyed exploring places in Maryhill I’ve known my whole life, in a new way. I hope these activities will inspire you to get to know Maryhill and what’s on offer at Maryhill Burgh Halls a bit more, whilst trying something new! If you would like to get involved, please email info@mbht.org.uk for more information.

I’ve had a great time working at Maryhill Burgh Halls, I gained lots of new skills in working with budgets, external partners and project management. Huge thanks go to Nicola, the Heritage and Community Engagement Manager, who facilitated and was always happy to help with my project. I came to know that the Halls are very much loved by the community, and will continue to be a hub where local people can get together to enjoy the collections. Although my time as a placement student is over, I hope to come back as a local visitor next time!

Remembering Maria Fyfe

Words by Anabel Marsh

Maria Fyfe (née O'Neill; 25 November 1938 – 3 December 2020) served as Member of Parliament for Glasgow Maryhill from 1987 to 2001.

When I arrived at the Maryhill Burgh Halls as a volunteer in 2015, I had several years as a Glasgow Women’s Library tour guide behind me, and I was asked if I could create some similar women’s history material for Maryhill. When it came to choosing political women to include, I went for three spanning the twentieth century: Suffragette Jessie Stephen, Jamesina Anderson who was a councillor mid-century from 1945-1962 and, of course, Maria Fyfe. When I realised that she had been born in the Gorbals I also made sure she was included in the Women’s Library tour of that area. Her passion for equality making her a perfect fit.

Maria was elected as Maryhill’s first female MP in 1987 and served until 2001. A Labour Whip once revealed that in their office they sang songs about certain members. In her case it was ‘How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?’, but rather than take offence she chose this as the title of her memoir, subtitled A Woman's Eye View of Life as an MP, which covered her fourteen years in Westminster in what was then, and still is, a male-dominated environment. Two examples illustrate this.

First, as the only female Scottish Labour candidate in 1987, Maria wasn't surprised to be asked for a press interview. When the journalist said he wanted to write a contrast piece about her and the Tory MP Anna McCurley she asked him what issues he had in mind. She was left speechless when he replied, "Oh nothing heavy like that, it's just that you're a brunette and she's a blonde."

Second, Maria had a successful front-bench career, but said: “I am proudest of having been involved in the 50-50 campaign to ensure that the Scottish Parliament started life with an almost equal representation of women". She recalls the Chair of the Scottish group of Labour MPs at the time reacting to her statement that such equal representation should be the case.  “His jaw literally dropped. He said, ‘You cannot be serious’ ”.

How have things changed? Not enough! There are fewer women MSPs now than there were in 1999 (although, as Maria pointed out, in the 2019 election to the UK parliament, Labour elected 104 women MPs out of 203). Female politicians are still subject to misogynistic objectification and abuse, but without women like Maria blazing a trail, things would be worse. As she said in a further volume of memoirs, Singing in the Street: We cannot wallow in misery. We have to fight.

“We can all try to have a little of Mary Barbour in us” - Maria Fyfe

When Maria died in December 2020, that fighting spirit drew cross-party praise with First Minister Nicola Sturgeon calling her a "feminist icon" who had been a personal inspiration to her as a budding politician. It was a spirit which had remained alive even after retirement from elected politics. For example, Maria was instrumental in the campaign to raise money for the statue of Mary Barbour, which was unveiled in Govan in 2018.

A few years ago, I attended an event to consider the short-list of designs for the Barbour statue, and made the mistake of telling Maria that I’d put her in two women’s history walks. Her look said that she definitely did not like being considered part of history! Now, sadly, she is. As Maria said of Mary Barbour: ‘’ Look how much she and her army achieved in the rent strikes of the First World War, and they didn’t even have the vote.’’  When people remarked, “If only we had a Mary Barbour today” Maria would always respond, “We can all try to have a little of Mary Barbour in us”. Maria was one who succeeded – and maybe we should all try to have a little of Maria Fyfe in us.

Maryhill: Tales of Temperance

Words by Ruairi Hawthorne

About twenty minutes from where I live, in the churchyard of the New Kilpatrick Parish Church in Bearsden, lies a very unique obelisk. It depicts a bridle hanging from a nail, a symbol of restraint and self-control. It is a commemoration of a man named James Stirling who, in 1832, made a pledge with seven other men to abstain from the consumption of alcohol and spirits for the rest of their lives. This would lead to the formation of the British Association for the Promotion of Temperance in 1835, and in good time many more working-class men made the same pledge.

You see, by James Stirling’s death in 1855, such commemorations where reserved only for those of high stature or renown, which is a real testament to the impact that James and his fellow founders of the BAPT made on the lives of many working-class drinkers, inspiring them to pledge abstinence and better their lives. This is best exemplified by the epitaph on James’s tomb, which reads: "He brought happiness to many homes where unbridled drunkenness has caused despair'. It can’t be denied that drink and drunkenness was ingrained into the lives of working men and led to much hardship, but why was this the case? Also, why was this plague of "unbridled drunkenness" so frowned upon by society’s upper echelons, despite drinking itself being so prominent in all social spheres? Finally, how did organisations like the BAPT try to combat it?    

First Breaths

John Dunlop’s Portrait

The first breaths of the temperance movement in Scotland came on October 5th, 1829, with the formation of the Glasgow and West of Scotland Temperance Society. It was created by John Dunlop, who is now seen as the father of the temperance movement in Britain. He was a landowner and family man who had witnessed the decay and destitution that alcohol dependence had brought on men and their families. Shortly after John Married, his father, who was a wealthy banker, went bankrupt, threatening John’s inheritance and his family. John spent this time when his future was uncertain in prayer and contemplation, thinking about what he would do to cure society’s woes if he had the resources. Fortunately, this matter was quickly resolved thanks to a legacy bailout and soon his inheritance was secured.  After being faced with losing everything, John endeavoured to use his inheritance for the betterment of others by combating what he saw as the greatest threat to industry, family life and finance: alcohol abuse.

At the first gathering of his new sobriety society in Greenock, he declared that he would forever abstain from partaking in spirits and stated his belief that poor education was one of the main contributors to the “demons drink” having such a strong hold on Scotland’s workers. That night, four other men made the same promise after hearing Dunlop speak. Sound familiar? This was known as the pledge, and it laid the foundation for a concept that is still found in modern AA and temperance groups to this day. While this many pledges may seem like a paltry number, it was more than enough for Dunlop, and the success he found with saving these four souls was all the inspiration he needed to continue his dry crusade. Where did he take his sobriety sermons next? Why Maryhill of course.

Moderation in Maryhill

In 1829, Maryhill was still a plucky little burgh that had yet to become part of Glasgow. It quickly earned the moniker “Venice of the North”, which was in reference to its dependence on its vast canals to accommodate it's production of vital resources.  While this proved to be prosperous for the once humble burgh and provided many men with steady employment, the work was far from comfortable, and many of Maryhill’s men turned to liquid courage to kill the pain of their labour and forget the day’s hardship. At this point Maryhill had 23 pubs, which meant that there was one pub for every 57 residents, more than enough to drown one’s sorrows. It couldn’t have been more appropriate that this was where Dunlop turned his gaze next. Maryhill became the sight of one of the first British temperance societies, created as a combined effort between himself and his aunt Lilias Graham, who was a significant temperance crusader in her own right. John and Lilias took the Maryhill movement very seriously and may have considered this to be a familial duty, as they could both easily trace their heritage to the burgh’s creation. You see, Lilias was formerly known as Lilias Hill, daughter of Mary Hill herself!

In his ongoing quest to promote his spite towards spirits, Dunlop was filling the various venues of his grandmother's home with its many labourers, who had fallen victim to the demons drink to some extent. However, no matter how many of Maryhills children took the pledge at the end of the night, Dunlop's message of moderation and moral resilience was severely limited by two main factors. The first was that he was only one man, and he could not keep track of his pledges after he had finished his lecture. These men could try there hardest to live by his words but there was no one to go to for guidance if they found themselves tempted back to the simple comfort of alcohol. Secondly, even if every single man that swore to moderate their intake was able to stand by their pledge, Dunlop could only take his message so far due to the inherent limitations of transport at the time.

Allies

William Collins’ Portrait

Both of these placed severe restrictions on the scope and duration of Dunlop's influence, reguardles of how rousing his speeches where.  In another striking parallel with his Grandmother's tale, the solution to John's two greatest obstacles would arrive without his influence or control. The first was in the form of an ally: William Collins, a publisher whose company is now known as Harper Collins. Despite the magnitude of his publishing house now, he began his working life working in a mill, and quickly noticed the often-drunken state of many of its employees, including the women. He found the frequent inebriation of the mill girls to be particularly disturbing, which eventually caused him to leave the mill and use his experience there to open a publishing house, which was simply named "William Collins Sons". However, Collins was not content to use his newly established company as merely a means of lining his pockets and climbing the economic ladder. Like his future colleague Dunlop, he was a first-hand witness to the destructive influence of drink on workers and wanted to use his newfound wealth to make a difference.

However, there was a key difference between the two: Williams, possibly due to having a more first-hand account of the societal woes wrought by alcohol, believed in absolute abstinence. He believed that most of the less fortunate members of society could not be trusted to simply moderate their alcohol intake, and that if they wanted to exercise control of their physical and mental well-being, they would have to quit all together. While this fundamental difference in approach would cause conflict between the two, they had a mutual respect and recognised that they both needed each other. Collins needed Dunlop to spark interest in the Temperance movement were ever they went with his way for words and passionate speeches, while Dunlop needed Collins to reinforce his message with pamphlets, posters and books. However, the second problem that limited to spread of the duo's message still persisted, transport. However, this would soon change with the advent of Britain's new, vast network of railway tracks. This innovation would assist Dunlop and Collins in carrying their message all over Britain. The relationship would eventually collapse under the weight of the pairs fundamentally different approach to temperance, with Collins being drawn to the allure of the growing prohibition movement, and Dunlop left to overcome being ostracised by the wider temperance movement on his own.

Kelvin Aqueduct, Maryhill.

As I mentioned before, Dunlop was convinced that there was more than drink to blame for the woes of the working class, namely, poor education and working conditions, as well as the drinking culture that had rapidly normalised public drunkenness. The former ensured that those who could not pay for a private education where almost certain to pursue unskilled labour as they weren't equipped to work in any other field. The latter ensured that the aforementioned unskilled labour would be mentally and physically painful enough to drive most men to the blissful warmth of liquor. However, among both allies and among those who made the pledge, Dunlop's calls for social reform often fell on deaf ears, with his colleagues often claiming that self-control was the only obstacle on the path to sobriety and his pledges seeing widespread improvement of education and workers’ rights as a pipe dream.

This wasn't helped by the fact that most British politicians would back the brewers and pubs when there was any talk of the country's problem with drink, with many seeing the temperance movement as a fad that would soon outstay it's welcome. However, the demand for social reform forced them to acknowledge the issue, although the only major legislative changes related to the subject was the mandatory price raising of alcohol, which only made the stuff more financially damaging to the less fortunate. In fact, John's brother, Alexander Dunlop was a prominent politician. He was one of the few who brought the issues of social and economic injustice up in parliament and was always trying to convince his brother to get into politics. However, John preferred to remain a civilian and he began working full time for the Temperance cause, losing most of his fortune in the process.He moved to London in 1836 and continued to dedicate himself to the movement until his death in 1868.

While his death may seem like a tragic one, he was survived by his wife, Janet, and his nine children. He was also father to an idea, that society could change for the better and that its less fortunate members didn't have to remain victims to the many destructive forces that had claimed the lives of so many. People like James Stirling continued to take the pledge, not just to abstain from alcohol but to strive towards a more kind and just society. I think now more than ever, Dunlop's dream is something that needs to become a reality.

Stirlings Grave. Photo Credit: Ruairi Hawthorne

The Roxy: A Tale of two Cinemas.

Maryhill Roxy

Words by Ruairi Hawthrone

Hello again, readers. While I took great pleasure in illuminating the excess and eccentricity of Mr Pickard last time, (a subject I may return to soon) for this article I have decided to return to one of my favourite subjects, the world of Cinema. 

The subject of this piece, The Roxy Cinema, has quite a different story than my last subject, the Seamore Picture house, although both had the same objective: to capture the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and bring the wonder of the silver screen to the masses. This is best exemplified by its name, which was originally “The Picture House” which while functional, didn’t really bring that abstract pizzazz that would be needed to stand out from the rather crowded space of Glasgow cinema. 

The Big Apple

The NY Roxy, Source: WikiCommons

If they were looking for pizzazz, they looked in the right place for inspiration: New York. The “Roxy theatre” opened in 1927 just outside off “Times Square”. It made its dazzling debut with a showing of Albert Parkers silent drama “The Love of Sunya”, and continued to enjoy great success as host of both motion pictures and stage shows until its closure in 1960, just before the advent of widely available colour television. 

The titular Samuel L Rothafel, aka “Roxy”, was the basis for the theatres title. He was a theatre operator who was given a handsome salary and other benefits to bestow the theatre with its memorable moniker, as well as oversee its construction and operation. While it was named after Roxy it was the brainchild of Herbert Lubin, who intended it to be the first of six “Roxys” in the big apple, however things got off to a rather precarious start. From the beginning, Roxy wanted the theatre to be his greatest contribution to the world of the arts and spared no expense on its construction, hiring the architect Walter W. Ahlschlager and decorator Harold Rambusch to help with the buildings design. Ahlschlager was able to make good use of the limited space that they had to build on, prioritising seating capacity over everything else. This and many other last-minute decisions turned an already expensive venture into an astronomically over budget one. Unfortunately, this pushed Lubin into near bankruptcy, forcing him to sell his shares of the theatre to William Fox. This turn of events would shatter Lubins dream of owning a top of the line cinema chain, but this wasn't the end for the Roxy.

Roxy NY Weekly Review, Source WikiCommons

Despite the misfortune of the dreamer Lubin, the Roxy Midway Theatre (the only one of the planned six Roxy's to be built) flourished as a top class establishment. While Roxy's spare no expense mentality ended up being unfortunate for Lubin, it did pay off for its new owner, as it's luxurious facilities and extravagant design captivated visitors and allured staff. These facilities included a cafeteria, nap room, library, billiards room, gymnasium and showers to accommodate its staff. Meanwhile the performers enjoyed two stories of private dressing rooms, three floors of chorus dressing rooms, a rehearsal room, and a costume department. The staff did not have it easy however, as to keep up the standards of excellent manners and efficiency, the male ushers where subject to daily inspection's and drills by a retired marine officer. This combined with incredibly sharp film image and the inclusion of a 110 member symphony orchestra for certain showings enabled the Roxy to be the best of the best, just as its creator had envisioned. 

However, the misfortune did not end with Lubin. Despite its many successes, the Fox Film Corporation, which was owned by the man who currently had majority ownership of the Roxy – William Fox – was in major financial trouble due to the advent of the great depression. This led to a number of crippling issues for the Roxy, including the fact that they could no longer afford to play A class movies, which was one of the major draws of the theatre. These issues where compounded by (and probably the reason for) the departure of the titular Roxy who left to pursue his own ventures and took most of the staff with him. Things where never quite the same without Roxy and while his successor, A.J Balaban, was able to keep the theatre afloat for another ten years by substituting high quality films with stage performer's, it never returned to its glory days. 

As it turns out though, theatre runs in the family, as after Balabans departure he was replaced by Roxys true successor, his son Robert C. Rothafel. Unfortunately, despite the best efforts of both Blaban and Robert to once again turn the Roxy into a place of innovation and luxury as well as their genuine belief that "the theatre should be a veritable fairyland of novelty, comfort, beauty and convenience", the Roxy Theatre closed its doors the 29th of March 1960.  Its final film showing was of the Ralph Thomas film “The Wind Cannot Read”, its use of sound and colour being the perfect illustrator of how far the Roxy (as well as film in general) had come since the theatres opening in 1927. It is still revered today for the philosophy’s of its various owners and its innovative use of music, live performers, and film. However, the story of Maryhill’s own Roxy is a very different tale.  

Maryhill’s own Roxy

Maryhill Roxy Newspaper Clipping from the 12th of May 1945, at the end of WW2. Families could see loved one who were abroad at the theatre. Source British Newspaper Archive

Maryhill Roxy AD from February 1935, The Milngavie and Bearsden Herald. Source: British Newspaper Archive

Opened in 1932, Mayhills Roxy was a far cry from its American cousin, it based its name on the New York establishment’s and proved to be extremely popular – to this day holding a special place in the hearts of many Maryhill Denizens. Thanks to the efforts of architects Daniel Lennox and David McMath, the Roxy had a respectable 2,000 seats, a good percentage of them being occupied by soldiers from the nearby Maryhill Barracks. Not unlike its predecessor, the people in charge new that one of its main priorities should be bringing a wide variety of entertainment to the masses and making that entertainment much more affordable than the competition. To that end, they would host talent contests alongside their normal selection of films, broadening the scope of their audience considerably by creating an inclusive and welcoming environment. Many regulars have fond memories of going on dates, sneaking in through the women’s toilets, going to the nearby café (famous for its “so thick you can stand your spoon up in it” soup) and of course, being utterly absorbed in the world of cinema. One patron recalls being so enthralled by the exploits of Doctor Who that he let his ice cream melt down his trousers, while another recalls there envy of a frequent visitor who had a lengthy winning streak in the weekly signing contests. Even people who are too young to have visited The Roxy in its heyday have been regaled tales of heroic ushers and villainous visitors by parents and grandparents. Despite the many fond memories that the Roxy bore, it was closed and demolished in 1962, possibly for similar reasons to its New York counterpart.

The ever changing face of cinema 

In the end, it seems that no picture house, regardless of size, staff or overall quality, is immune to the entropic force of colour television. While this innovation did not kill cinema by any means, it did spell the closure of swaths of picture houses worldwide, resulting in a landscape where only the strongest would survive. Now it's very difficult for small theatres like the Maryhill Roxy to survive and to attempt a venture as costly as the New York Roxy would be suicidal. Even the giants of the industry have resorted to a multitude of gimmicks to incentivise leaving the house and to justify ever inflating ticket prices, not unlike the NY Roxy in its later years.

These have included 3D (both in the 70s and its brief revival in the 2010s) 4D, D-Box Seats, increasingly sophisticated surround sound systems and strangest of all, the short-lived Smell-o-vision. These may seem like the last gasps of a dying industry, however the major chains like Cineworld and even independent theatres such as the GFT have continued to remain profitable, especially when they abandon short sighted gimmicks and focus on there respective strengths, the former bringing major releases to the masses in massive, comfortable screens and the latter bringing the obscure, low budget and foreign pictures to people who would otherwise be unable to see them. I see the aforementioned theatres as the modern successors of the two Roxy's, and I hope that they can continue to embody the bombastic, adventures spirit of Samuel and the subdued charm and underdog spirit of the beloved Maryhill Cinema for years to come.

My time volunteering at Maryhill Museum

Words by Jess McManness

I’d like to share with you some thoughts and reflections on my time spent volunteering in collections management at Maryhill Burgh Halls. A bit of background for you—I’m a current postgrad student (soon to be graduate) at University of Glasgow in the field of Museum Studies. As a part of our course load, each student selected a work placement with the goal of gaining practical, hands-on museum experience, and I already had an idea of where I wanted to go. MBHT’s heritage manager, Nicola McHendry, had spoken on a panel for one of my first classes at UofG. Through this dialogue, I came to know Maryhill as a small, but feisty museum with a strong voice and a deep commitment to its community. I wanted to work in an environment that had those close community ties. My placement choice was clear, and I went into Maryhill Museum collections management with another student volunteer, Rachel, who became my project partner and a wonderful friend.

Rachel (left) and Jess (right) in Kelvingrove Park

My first day volunteering for Maryhill Museum was a bit nerve-wracking, but almost immediately I came to understand that Maryhill is a family—one that is warm, welcoming, a bit rowdy, and intensely supportive. Days working for Maryhill Museum were filled with explorations of collection storage, diving through stories of the past, sharing discoveries with others in the office, laughing at the antics of the other volunteers, and frequent trips downstairs to the café for heaping cups of hot mint tea.

Rachel and I’s foremost job was the cataloguing of the Maryhill Museum collections. The end product of this was a collections database populated by artefact profiles. Each profile includes photographs, biographical info, and research pertaining to individual artefacts from the museum collection. My favorite discoveries in the Maryhill Museum collections gave the past new voice and color. Transcribing the backs of postcards offered insight to the everyday stories the past is built on.

Many messages were quick life updates such as the 1906 postcard, Girl’s Industrial School, Maryhill (2010.11) which reads: “Dear Cousin Helen, Mother still pretty weak, not out yet. We got back all right, for which thank you very much. The frocks are very nice. Baby has been ill and the Dr is still coming to see him. I will write a letter soon. Hope you are well.” What has both mother and child ill? What were common diseases of 1906? How much would a home visit from the doctor set you back? The questions raised through an examination of this postcard present avenues of inquiry into local Maryhill life, as well as an opportunity to hear the voice of a local Maryhill woman.

The collections at MBH are held in trust for the Maryhill community. Always remember that they belong to you. One of the most exciting parts of this project is that the beginning of our collections database is now accessible to the Maryhill community, local and extended. You can explore the Maryhill Museum collections for yourself here. There is so much more left to be done within our collections and so many stories yet to be told. Hundreds of artefacts are still shelved in storage, waiting to enter the system.

Research on a Maryhill railway ticket in its wider context

As a museum volunteer, there is always more work to be done. Working at a small, largely volunteer-driven museum, you have a lot of opportunity to expand yourself into other areas of interest, because there’s always a need for more helping hands and ideas. MBH volunteers really run the gamut of day to day tasks and fill many roles, including collections care, research, tours, talks, fundraising, and social media. Though I was working primarily as a collections manager, I also had the opportunity to curate a display case for the entrance hall, hang exhibits, and attend the annual board of trustees meeting. Little opportunities would pop up all the time and really allowed Rachel and I to grow and expand our skill set. As both of us look to take further steps into the heritage sector, volunteering at MBH provided us with necessary skills and experience which have already proven invaluable.

“I came to know Maryhill as a small, but feisty museum with a strong voice and a deep commitment to its community. ”

— Jess McManness

Jess hanging an exhibit in the Halls.

Though I must now end my time at Maryhill, its vibrancy, stories, and people continue to be in my thoughts. And that’s what a museum should do, isn’t it? It should stay with you, even as you leave.

Thank you, Maryhill Museum!

If you would like to get involved with Maryhill Museum please email heritage@mbht.org.uk