consists the true tour de maitre of the punch-maker.
Glasgow punch should be made of the coldest spring water taken from the spring. The acid ingredients above mentioned will suffice for a very large bowl.
AN INVINCIBLE NOSE, 1819
Robert Southey
The son of a Bristol linen-draper, Robert Southey (1774â1843) was brought up by an eccentric aunt who indulged his love of reading. He was appointed poet laureate in 1813, a position he grew to loathe and for which he received much mockery from among others Lord Byron. He wrote copiously, prose as well as poetry, on subjects as diverse as the history of Brazil, the Peninsular War and Admiral Nelson. He also liked to travel and was often drawn, as this excerpt from his Journal of a Tour of Scotland shows, to things usually overlooked .
A City like Glasgow is a hateful place for a stranger, unless he is reconciled to it by the comforts of hospitality and society. In any other case the best way is to reconnoitre it, so as to know the outline and outside, and to be contented with such other information as books can supply. Argyle Street is the finest part; it has a mixture of old and new buildings, but is long enough and lofty enough to be one of the best streets in G. Britain. The Cathedral is the only edifice of its kind in Scotland which received no external injury at the Reformation. Two places of worship have been neatly fitted up within. I observed, however, three things deserving of reprobation. The window in one of these kirks had been made to imitate painted glass, by painting on the glass, and this of course had a paltry and smeary appearance. The arches in those upperpassages which at Westminster we used absurdly to call the nunneries, and of which I do not know the name, are filled up with an imitation of windows: these are instances of the worst possible taste. The other fault belongs to the unclean part of the national character; for the seats are so closely packed that any person who could remain there during the time of service in the warm weather, must have an invincible nose. I doubt even whether any incense could overcome so strong a smell.
I was much struck with the picturesque appearance of the monuments in the Church yard â such large ones as we have in our churches, being here ranged along the wall, so that even on the outside their irregular outline makes an impressive feature in the scene. They were digging a grave near the entrance of the Church; had it been in any other situation, I should not have learnt a noticeable thing. A frame consisting of iron rods was fixed in the grave, the rods being as long as grave was deep. Within this frame the coffin was to be let down and buried, and then an iron cover fitted on to the top of the rods, and strongly locked. When there is no longer any apprehension of danger for the resurrection-men, the cover is unlocked and the frame drawn out: a month it seems is the regular term. This invention, which is not liable to the same legal obligations as the iron coffins, is about two years old. The price paid for its use is a shilling a day.
THE ROGUERIES OF THE BROOMIELAW, 1825
John Gibson Lockhart
It is often said that Sir Walter Scott invented tourism in Scotland. But long before his novels and poems sent folk flocking to the Trossachs, Glaswegians had discovered the delight of a trip down the Clyde. Here John Gibson Lockhart, Scottâs son-in-law and biographer, recalls a memorable occasion when the âWizard of the Northâ experienced Glasgow hospitality at first hand. Broomielaw, situated on the north bank of the Clyde immediately west of Glasgow Bridge, means a âgorse or broom-covered slopeâ .
A voyage down the Firth of Clyde is enough to make anybody happy; nowhere can the home tourist, at all events, behold, in the course of one day, such a succession and variety of beautiful, romantic, and majestic scenery: on one hand, dark mountains and castellated shores â on the other, rich
Glasgow punch should be made of the coldest spring water taken from the spring. The acid ingredients above mentioned will suffice for a very large bowl.
AN INVINCIBLE NOSE, 1819
Robert Southey
The son of a Bristol linen-draper, Robert Southey (1774â1843) was brought up by an eccentric aunt who indulged his love of reading. He was appointed poet laureate in 1813, a position he grew to loathe and for which he received much mockery from among others Lord Byron. He wrote copiously, prose as well as poetry, on subjects as diverse as the history of Brazil, the Peninsular War and Admiral Nelson. He also liked to travel and was often drawn, as this excerpt from his Journal of a Tour of Scotland shows, to things usually overlooked .
A City like Glasgow is a hateful place for a stranger, unless he is reconciled to it by the comforts of hospitality and society. In any other case the best way is to reconnoitre it, so as to know the outline and outside, and to be contented with such other information as books can supply. Argyle Street is the finest part; it has a mixture of old and new buildings, but is long enough and lofty enough to be one of the best streets in G. Britain. The Cathedral is the only edifice of its kind in Scotland which received no external injury at the Reformation. Two places of worship have been neatly fitted up within. I observed, however, three things deserving of reprobation. The window in one of these kirks had been made to imitate painted glass, by painting on the glass, and this of course had a paltry and smeary appearance. The arches in those upperpassages which at Westminster we used absurdly to call the nunneries, and of which I do not know the name, are filled up with an imitation of windows: these are instances of the worst possible taste. The other fault belongs to the unclean part of the national character; for the seats are so closely packed that any person who could remain there during the time of service in the warm weather, must have an invincible nose. I doubt even whether any incense could overcome so strong a smell.
I was much struck with the picturesque appearance of the monuments in the Church yard â such large ones as we have in our churches, being here ranged along the wall, so that even on the outside their irregular outline makes an impressive feature in the scene. They were digging a grave near the entrance of the Church; had it been in any other situation, I should not have learnt a noticeable thing. A frame consisting of iron rods was fixed in the grave, the rods being as long as grave was deep. Within this frame the coffin was to be let down and buried, and then an iron cover fitted on to the top of the rods, and strongly locked. When there is no longer any apprehension of danger for the resurrection-men, the cover is unlocked and the frame drawn out: a month it seems is the regular term. This invention, which is not liable to the same legal obligations as the iron coffins, is about two years old. The price paid for its use is a shilling a day.
THE ROGUERIES OF THE BROOMIELAW, 1825
John Gibson Lockhart
It is often said that Sir Walter Scott invented tourism in Scotland. But long before his novels and poems sent folk flocking to the Trossachs, Glaswegians had discovered the delight of a trip down the Clyde. Here John Gibson Lockhart, Scottâs son-in-law and biographer, recalls a memorable occasion when the âWizard of the Northâ experienced Glasgow hospitality at first hand. Broomielaw, situated on the north bank of the Clyde immediately west of Glasgow Bridge, means a âgorse or broom-covered slopeâ .
A voyage down the Firth of Clyde is enough to make anybody happy; nowhere can the home tourist, at all events, behold, in the course of one day, such a succession and variety of beautiful, romantic, and majestic scenery: on one hand, dark mountains and castellated shores â on the other, rich
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