important, decorated with public buildings, of an architecture rather striking than correct in point of taste, and running between rows of tall houses, built with stone, the fronts of which were occasionally richly ornamented with mason-work, a circumstance which gave the street an imposing air of dignity and grandeur, of which most English towns are in some measure deprived, by the slight, unsubstantial, and perishable quality and appearance of the bricks with which they are constructed.
GLASGOW INVADES EDINBURGH, 1819
Henry Thomas Cockburn
Towards the end of 1819 economic distress was acute and there were many popular disturbances throughout Britain. These were called the âRadical Warâ. There were few such disturbances in Scotland, but a rumour spread that âthe Radical Armyâ would march from Glasgowand âcaptureâ Edinburgh on the last night of the year. The following extract shows just how seriously this supposed threat was taken. Henry Cockburn (1779â1854) was Edinburgh born, bred and educated. He was called to the Bar in 1800 and in 1830 he became Solicitor-General for Scotland. A year later he was elected Rector of Glasgow University. He was the author of Memorials of His Time (1856), from which the following is taken .
The perfect facility with which a party of forty or fifty thousand weavers could march from Glasgow, and seize upon the Banks and Castle of Edinburgh, without ever being heard of till they appeared in our streets, was demonstrated. Our magistrates therefore invited all loyal citizens to congregate, with such arms as they had, at various assigned posts. I repaired to the Assembly rooms in George Street, with a stick, about eight in the evening. The streets were as quiet as an ordinary Sunday; but their silence was only held by the excited to forebode the coming storm. There seemed to be nobody abroad except those who, like myself, were repairing to their forlorn hopes. On entering the large room, I found at least 400 or 500 grown gentlemen, pacing about, dressed coarsely, as if for work, according to taste or convenience, with bludgeons, fowling pieces, dirks, cane-swords, or other implements. A zealous banker laboured under two small swivels set on stocks, one under each arm. Frivolity, though much provoked, and a good deal indulged in corners, was reproved as unbecoming the crisis. At last, about ten p.m., the horn of the Glasgow coach was heard, and the Lord Provost sent us word from the council chamber that we might retire for the night. We never met again.
THE RITUAL OF PUNCH-MAKING, 1819
J.G. Lockhart
Born in Lanarkshire, the son of a Church of Scotland minister, John Gibson Lockhart (1794â1854) spent his boyhood in Glasgow, where he graduated from the High School to college. Aged 13, he went up to Balliol College, Oxford, where in 1813 he took a first in classics. In 1820 he married Sophia, the eldest daughter of Sir Walter Scott, whose first and fabled biographer he subsequently became. A caustic wit and occasionally savage critic, his book , Peterâs Letters to his Kinsfolk (1819) makes fun at the expense of the Edinburgh intellectuals and the bourgeoisie .
The sugar being melted with a little cold water, the artist squeezed about a dozen lemons through a wooden strainer, and then poured in enough water almost to fill the bowl. In this state, the liquor goes by the name of sherbet, and a few of the connoisseurs in his immediate neighbourhood were requested to give their opinion of it â for in the mixing of the sherbet lies, according to the Glasgow creed, at least one half of the whole battle. This being approved by an audible smack of the lips of the umpires, the rum was added to the beverage, I suppose, in something about the proportion of one to seven. Last of all, the maker cuts a few limes, and running each section rapidly round the rim of his bowl, squeezed in enough of this more delicate acid to flavour the whole composition. In this
GLASGOW INVADES EDINBURGH, 1819
Henry Thomas Cockburn
Towards the end of 1819 economic distress was acute and there were many popular disturbances throughout Britain. These were called the âRadical Warâ. There were few such disturbances in Scotland, but a rumour spread that âthe Radical Armyâ would march from Glasgowand âcaptureâ Edinburgh on the last night of the year. The following extract shows just how seriously this supposed threat was taken. Henry Cockburn (1779â1854) was Edinburgh born, bred and educated. He was called to the Bar in 1800 and in 1830 he became Solicitor-General for Scotland. A year later he was elected Rector of Glasgow University. He was the author of Memorials of His Time (1856), from which the following is taken .
The perfect facility with which a party of forty or fifty thousand weavers could march from Glasgow, and seize upon the Banks and Castle of Edinburgh, without ever being heard of till they appeared in our streets, was demonstrated. Our magistrates therefore invited all loyal citizens to congregate, with such arms as they had, at various assigned posts. I repaired to the Assembly rooms in George Street, with a stick, about eight in the evening. The streets were as quiet as an ordinary Sunday; but their silence was only held by the excited to forebode the coming storm. There seemed to be nobody abroad except those who, like myself, were repairing to their forlorn hopes. On entering the large room, I found at least 400 or 500 grown gentlemen, pacing about, dressed coarsely, as if for work, according to taste or convenience, with bludgeons, fowling pieces, dirks, cane-swords, or other implements. A zealous banker laboured under two small swivels set on stocks, one under each arm. Frivolity, though much provoked, and a good deal indulged in corners, was reproved as unbecoming the crisis. At last, about ten p.m., the horn of the Glasgow coach was heard, and the Lord Provost sent us word from the council chamber that we might retire for the night. We never met again.
THE RITUAL OF PUNCH-MAKING, 1819
J.G. Lockhart
Born in Lanarkshire, the son of a Church of Scotland minister, John Gibson Lockhart (1794â1854) spent his boyhood in Glasgow, where he graduated from the High School to college. Aged 13, he went up to Balliol College, Oxford, where in 1813 he took a first in classics. In 1820 he married Sophia, the eldest daughter of Sir Walter Scott, whose first and fabled biographer he subsequently became. A caustic wit and occasionally savage critic, his book , Peterâs Letters to his Kinsfolk (1819) makes fun at the expense of the Edinburgh intellectuals and the bourgeoisie .
The sugar being melted with a little cold water, the artist squeezed about a dozen lemons through a wooden strainer, and then poured in enough water almost to fill the bowl. In this state, the liquor goes by the name of sherbet, and a few of the connoisseurs in his immediate neighbourhood were requested to give their opinion of it â for in the mixing of the sherbet lies, according to the Glasgow creed, at least one half of the whole battle. This being approved by an audible smack of the lips of the umpires, the rum was added to the beverage, I suppose, in something about the proportion of one to seven. Last of all, the maker cuts a few limes, and running each section rapidly round the rim of his bowl, squeezed in enough of this more delicate acid to flavour the whole composition. In this
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