Craigie Road--Knowehead and its
surrounding--The Buchanan Bequest-Treesbank Manor House--Scargie--John
Burtt--Knockmarloch--Craigie Hill--Craigie Church--The Village--The Witch
Stane--Craigie Castle--A Strange Story--A Curious Stone.
Upon entering Craigie Road,
I passed some neat cottages, and little farther on other of a humbler
order, and after a brisk uphill walk gained Knowehead, an eminence over
which the road passes and from which an extensive view of the surrounding
country can be obtained. Pausing, my eye swam over the scene. Behind was
the quaint village, with the smoke curling from the cottage chimneys;
beyond it, in the hollow, old Kilmarnock, with its stalks and spires; in
front the estate of Treesbank, with its manor-house peering out from
amongst the trees, and the road winding over hill and dale until lost to
view on a rugged range of hills over which it passes. To the right Ayr
road and the estate of Caprington were the most prominent objects on the
landscape; to the left, on a hilly piece of ground, stands the farm-steading
of Witch Knowe. Doubtless its site was supposed to be a resort of the
uncanny fraternity in times past, or perhaps some withered beldame was
burned on it. The scene withal was very pleasing, and the song of the lark
and the multifarious sounds that greeted the ear made it doubly
delightful.
Beyond Witch Knowe is the
estate of Bellfield. The mansion-house is concealed by belts of trees
which surround the beautiful garden and fine pleasure grounds. Bellfield
House was the residence of Misses Margaret, Jane, and Elizabeth Buchanan,
daughters of the late George Buchanan of Woodlands, Glasgow, who died in
the order of seniority, the youngest on the 23rd April, 1875.
During their lifetime they jointly executed a will, and although subject
to the alternation of the last survivor it substantially remained as
agreed upon, and confer the following munificent bequests:--£10,000 to the
Merchants’ House of Glasgow, the revenue to be applied in the same way as
the funds of the House are at present, on condition that the tomb of the
family in the Glasgow Necropolis be maintained in proper order and repair
during all time coming. £4,200 of reduced three per cent. annuities of the
Principal and Professors appointed by the University Court of Glasgow, to
found bursaries for the maintenance of two matriculated students who
intend to become licentiates of the Established Church of Scotland.
£30,000 to be held by the trustees on the estate and accumulated for ten
years, the object being to found an hospital for the maintenance of
indigent and infirm burgesses of Glasgow, of sixty years and upwards,
preference to be given to those of the name of Buchanan. The trustees are
to purchase two acres of ground with eight miles of Glasgow, and erect an
hospital theron, and furnish and fit it up; and on the lapse of ten years
they are to hand over the hospital and all the funds which they have
accumulated to the Lord Provost, and Magistrates of Glasgow, the minister
of the High Church, the minister of St. George’s Church, and the
testamentary trustees as governors.[It
is expected that the accumulation at the end of the ten years will be
something like £12,000, which will cover the cost of the ground and of the
erection and fitting-up of the hospital, and the £30,000 will remain for
the purposes of endowment.] It
is stipulated that no fewer than ten burgesses will at one time have the
benefits of the hospital. The land and estate of Bellfield to be held by
the trustees till Marinmas, 1885, and the rents to be accumulated during
that period; part of the mansion-house to be fitted up as a library, and
to be open to the public for consultation only, at such times and under
such regulations as the trustees may think proper; all the portraits,
paintings, books, and fittings suitable to be placed in this library; the
grounds and garden to be open to the public of Kilmarnock and Riccarton at
such times and under such regulations as the trustees may think proper; £5
to be paid yearly to the Ragged School of Kilmarnock out of the revenues
of Bellfield; £3 yearly to the Fever Hospital and Infirmary of Kilmarnock;
£130 for a missionary to be appointed by the minister of the parish of
Riccarton, and £10 yearly for him to buy flannel clothing for the poor. If
the trustees find the revenue to admit of it, they may fit up the
remaining portion of Bellfield house as an asylum for poor people of sixty
years and upward who have resided in the parishes of Kilmarnock and
Riccarton for ten years consecutively, and for young person who may have
been permanently injured by accident. The trustees are to lease the
minerals on the estate, and at the end of ten years the estate and
accumulated funs are to be conveyed to the Provost and Magistrates of
Kilmarnock, to the minister of Kilmarnock and the minister of the parish
of Riccarton for the time being, and to the testamentary trustees, for the
carrying on of the purposes above-mentioned. The balance of the revenue,
after providing for these purposes, is to be divided equally between the
parishes of Kilmarnock and Riccarton, to be distributed by the minister to
the deserving poor not on the poor’s roll, and these must always be a
certain sum set apart for this object. The whole residue of the estate,
after providing for these purposes, is to be paid, one half to the Glasgow
Royal Infirmary and the other half to the Glasgow Asylum for the Blind.
[Condensed from "Abstract of settlement made by Misses Margaret, Jane,
and Elizabeth Buchanan of
Bellfield, dated 8th July, 1861, as altered by codicil made by
Elizabeth Buchanan of Bellfield, 11th May, 1871.]
The nearness of Bellfield
to Kilmarnock and Riccarton, and the facto of its salubrious situation and
finely-wooded grounds, will render it a favourite resort to all who are
desirous of retiring from the noise and bustle of the town to enjoy
suburban quiet and hold communion with nature.
Rambling onward, the cool
air of the morning fanned my cheek, and as I contemplated the tiny wayside
flower, the stately tree, and the numerous natural beauties met with at
every step, my very soul was thrilled with ecstasy and
adoration--adoration to Him who has clothed the earth with verdure and
filled the groves with melody.
Passing through the tollbar
of Shortlees, some ruined cottages appeared on my left, and I soon arrived
at a part of the road where the trees on either side interwine their
branches and form a leafy canopy overhead. Walking beneath the rustling
boughs I arrived at a small bridge which spans a burn as it jinks through
a small plantation by the wayside. Across the bridge there is a drive to
Treesbank manor house. The manor house--which has recently been enlarged
and improved--was built by Sir Hugh Campbell of Cessnock, and gifted along
with the estate to his second son, James, upon his (the son’s) marriage
with Jean, daughter of Sir William Mure of Rowalan, in 1672, and from that
union the present proprietor is descended.
Leaving the purling burn, I
followed the course of the road, and after climbing a steep brae, passed
Scargie, a couple of thatched cottages of mean appearance standing a
little of the road. Scargie is associated with the name of John Burtt,
author of the sweet song beginning
"O’er the mist-shrouded
cliffs of the grey mountains straying."
And of other lyrics and
lengthy pieces of verse. Although born at Knockmarloch, Burtt spent the
greater portion of his boyhood at Scargie with his grandfather, who
occupied the place. In early manhood he was a schoolmaster in Kilmarnock,
but emigrated to America in 1817, where he became a clergyman, and was
honored with the chair of Ecclesiastical History in the college of
Cincinnati.
Traveling onward, I passed
Sunnyside--a neat farm house--and soon arrived at Knockmarloch. A small
plantation skirts the road, and within its shade the feathered throng
rendered the air vocal, for they chanted their joyous lays right merrily,
and the rich shrill notes of the blackbird echoed, and the cadence died
away like the last low strains of a lute. I paused and listened, for the
sounds and the scenery had an exhilarating influence upon me--an influence
that only those who are confined to the desk or the bench six days out of
the seven can best comnprehend. Turning down a bosky land that skirts the
plantation, a walk of hundred yards brought me to a bubbling brook that
purled amongst the brackens. Here, a portion of a dry-stone dyke was
broken down, and up to an ivy-mantled ruin that was almost hid from view
by the tall firs of the plantation, a foot road worn by the feet of the
curious ran zigzag through the gowan-spangled grass. The ruin--a solitary
gable which the ivy green has clasped with its tendrils and adorned with
its shining leaves--is a remnant of Knockmarloch manor house, but there is
nothing interesting associated with it. It was a thatch-covered mansion of
the olden time, and was last used as a family residence by Major George
Brown, a descendant of the Browns of Knock- mar loch, a family who had
possessed the estate for a hundred and fifty years. About 1800 the estate
cam into the market and was purchased by Robert Shedden, a relative of the
Knockmarloch family, who had spent the years of his boyhood upon it. It is
still in the possessions of the Sheddens. They have always been
non-resident, and on this account the Manor House was allowed to fall into
decay. Ultimately, with the exception of the shattered gable, the walls
were pulled down and the stones used to construct a couple of cottages
that stand a little off the main road by the side of the plantation. About
a stonethrow from the ruin there is a farm-steading, the dwelling-house of
which was once the coach-house of the mansion. It bears the date 1775, and
is at present occupied by a grandchild of Major Brown’s coachman, who, by
the bye, was the father of John Burtt, the poet.
Retracing my steps to the
road, a sharp walk brought me to the base of Craigie Hill, an eminence
that stands some 500 feet above the level of the sea, and although
comparatively low, yet the view from its summit is extensive and beautiful
A short distance from it are the limestone mines of Howcommon, the
excavations of which penetrate the bosom of the hills, and form vast
caverns through which a horse and car can be driven with facility. Being
desirous to gain the top of the rugged height, I entered a field gate, but
here the stillness was broken by the sound of the hammer and pick, and the
snorting of a steam engine, for workmen were busily engaged in a kind of
quarry, cutting away the columnar, trap of which the hill is composed.
Climbing the steep, I gained the verdant summit somewhat out of breath
with the exertion, and sat down upon a boulder to gaze upon the landscape
at my feet. Stretched before me was a panoramic view of over one hundred
miles, consisting for the most part of an undulating and highly cultivated
track of country. Away in the misty distance I beheld the Crampian Hills,
"the lofty Benlomond," the Mull of Cantyre, the Paps of Jura, and the
coast of Ireland. More near, the Frith of Clyde, and the historic Carrick
Shore, with the rock of Ailsa towering above the waters like some rude
monument, while along the coast lay scattered numerous towns and villages.
Landward, there is a fine view of Loundoun Hill and other historically
interesting places. On the plain below the hill, the town of Kilamrnock
with its spires and smoky sky seemed spread out in a valley, while the
estates of Caprington, Treesbank, Coodham, and Knockmarloch filled up the
picture between. Amon the many farmhouses dotting the landscape that of
Mosshead is worthy of remark--it being the birthplace of Sir James Shaw, a
gentleman who by energetic perseverance rose from a comparatively humble
position to that of Lord Mayor of London.
After lingering on Craigie
Hill I descended to the main road and directed my steps towards the
village, which nestles in sweet retirement at the foot of the whinney
ridge of which the eninence above mentioned is the highest elevation.
Passing the manse, I turned down a narrow path to the left that runs along
the foot of the hills and terminates at a wall that sur- rounds a burying
ground. In its centre stands Craigie Parish Church. It was erected in
1776, and is a small old-fashioned like structure. The churchyard is
overgrown with grass, and although
"Some village Hampden that with
dauntless breast
The little tyrants of his field withstood!
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest;
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country’s blood,"
Yet there is no stone in it
that is curious or containing any remarkable inscription. The church of
Craigie that existed before the present one was very old. Paterson says
--"In 1177 Walter Hase of Cragyn" (the then patron), "whose father had
previously granted half a carucate of land, gave to it another half
carucate, gifting the whole--church and lands--in pure alms, for the
salvation of the souls of his father and mother, to the monks of Paisley,"
and, according to Chalmers, the property remained in their hands till the
Reformation, after which the parish of Craigie was united to that of
Riccarton, but was gain disunited, as previously stated.
The village of Craigie
adjoins the church. It consists of about eighteen neat cottages, a post
office, a schoolhouse, and an inn which flourished under the name and sign
of "The Red Lion." A parish seminary has recently been erected by the
School Board, and forms a handsome addition to the secluded little hamlet.
After partaking of
refreshments in the village inn, and indulging in a chat with the
landlord, I retraced my steps to the highway, and in doing so got into
conversation with an old lady who was very loquacious and well versed in
the lore of the district. Amongst other things, she informed me that once
on a time the church of Craigie had a narrow escape of being destroyed by
a witch who had taken umbrage at it. It seems that the hag selected a
large stone, and having placed it in her apron, flew with it in the
direction of the building with the intention of dropping it upon its roof.
Her design, however, was frustrated by the breaking of her apron strings,
for, upon nearing the object of her spleen, they gave way, and the stone
fell with a crash that shook the earth. This accident seemingly so
disheartened the carlin that she abandoned the destructive idea and
allowed her burden to lie where it fell. The boulder lay in a field near
the churchyard wall, and was known as "The White Stane." It was long
regarded with superstitious awe by many; but the farmer on whose ground it
lay being of a practical turn of mind, looked upon it with an eye to
utility, and had it blasted for building purposes. Strange to relate, when
broken up the debris filled twenty-five carts--a circumstance that would
lead one to suppose that the witch must have been very muscular, and must
have worn a very large apron.
On my arrival at the
highway I stopped a youth who came whistling along and enquired my nearest
way to Craigie Castle. "That’s the soonest," said he thoughtfully.--
"Yes."--"Weel, gang alang the road till ye come to the yett next the hill,
when there you’ll see an auld road gaun through the parks; follow it till
ye come to Smeetonrig (Smithstonridge), turn the corner o’ the house an’
you’ll see the castle before you." After I had thanked him for the
information, he resumed his whistle and passed on his way "happy as a
king." Following his directions, "the yett next the hill; was soon found,
and having passed through it I traversed a rudely Macadamised traffic-worn
road which stretched across the open fields, and after a pleasant walk by
the gowan-spangled lea--the pleasure of which was heightened by the cry of
the peesweep and the song of a lark--I arrived in a farmyard, and most
unexpectedly found myself face to face with a watch-dog that did its best
with voice and gesture to frighten the life out of me. Expecting every
moment to be torn in pieces, and not knowing whether to go forward or turn
back, I was relieved from embarrassment by a middle-aged woman appearing
upon the scene. Having stated my difficulty to her, the goodwife of
Smithstonridge-- for such the lady proved to be-invited me forward and in
the kindest manner conducted me to the end of her house and showed me the
object of my search in the hollow. From her I learned that the old
Tarbolten Road, a portion of which winds over a neighbouring hill and is
now covered with brambles and wild brier, passed by the farm, and that it
was the remains of it I came along. After a kindly goodbye to
Smithstonridge I struck through the fields in the direction of Craigie
Castle.
Viewing the ruin from a
distance, it seems destitute of that hoary appearance that is so inviting
about shattered places of strength, but upon nearing it I was agreeably
surprised to find it alike magnificent in situation and architecture, and
if not so noted and extensive as other buildings in a like condition, it
at least displays a degree of military science and skill rarely to be met
with. The ruin stands upon a knoll between what appears to have been two
marshes, and probably ditches were cut between them when the castle was in
its entirety. This being the case it would be isolated from the mainland,
and an insurmountable barrier raised to besiegers at the period when
gunpowder was unknown, and when no missile, save from a height, could be
thrown at any great distance with effect. Two crumbling gables, portions
of walls, and shreds of battlements yet remain in tolerable preservation,
also several underground vaulted chambers are entire, although party
filled with rubbish. In these the fox has now its lair and the bat its
abode, and wreck and decay are the chief characteristics of the pile.
Picking my steps amongst solid blocks of masonry that lay as time had
hurled them from their position, I gained what appeared to have been the
principal apartment. The roof had fallen in, but from the appearance of
the walls it seems to have converged at the top and been supported by
fluted columns. Here lay a shattered and dismantled cornice; there, party
hid by rubbish, pieces of sculpture that bore testimony to the skill and
taste of the designer, while stunted trees and shrubs grew in places once
trod by the mirthful and gay. To me it is a spirit-depressing task to
stray through an old ruin, for each crumbling stone is a monitor that
speaks of death and decay, and points to the futility of all human labour.
At this ruin I met with a natural curiosity in the shape of an old tree.
Against it lay two huge blocks of masonry that have toppled off the
rampart; the trunk was bent and distorted as if the plant had done its
utmost to support or throw off the encumbrance, and curious enough, in
spite of it, the growth had continued and imbedded portions of the burden
in its wood.
Craigie Castle was long the
residence of the descendants of the Wallaces of Riccarton, but when or by
whom it was built cannot be ascertained with certainty. Previous to that
family one of the name of Lyndesay possessed the lands; but the race
terminating in a daughter, who became the wife of John Wallace about 1371,
the property passed to his family. In 1588 they removed to the Castle of
Newton-upon-Ayr, and left the Craigie mansion, which doubtless being
tenantless got out of repair, and in the course of time became ruinous.
Amongst the many traditions
connected with this Castle, perhaps that of how it became ruinous will
interest the reader. It is told by Woodrow, and from that indefatigable
writer that I quote the following strange story:--"The Lairds of Craigie
we none the best affected to the gospell….. When the ministers wer very
strict in discipline, the Laird of Craigie had iether some tenant or
servants who brought some horses laden with carriages from some distant
place, and traveled openly upon the Sabbath day, throw many parishes. The
ministers of the places wrote to Mr. Inglish about such and open and
scandalous breach of the Sabbath. He spoke to the Laird of Craigie, and he
huffed, and told it was done by his orders, and he would support them in
what they had done! The minister caused cite the persons guilty to the
session; but being supported by their master they would not compear. When
noe other way was left, Mr. Inglish took occasion to bear testimony
against it very plainly in a sermon. The Laird was in the church, sitting
in his seat before the pulpite, and the minister fell upon it soe flatly
Craigie’s malice and spite was so raised that he rose up, and took up his
whinger (a short sword) and threw it at him, when in the pulpite! Mr
Inglish, when he perceived him draw it and going to cast it, gote down in
the pulpite and escaped it. The whinger went over his head, and struck in
the backside of the pulpite. After he had risen and composed himself a
little, he addressed himself to Craigie, and said--"Sir, you have put ane
open affront upon God and his Ordinances in what you have aimed at me, and
now I will tell you what God will doe to you. Your great stone house, in
this place, shall be reduced to a heap of stones, and he that offers to
repair it shall lose his pains; and your son now; whom you have such great
hopes of, shall die a fool!’ And none of Mr. Inglish’s words fell to the
ground. His son was then in England, in the army, and was at the time a
youth of great parts and expectation. Whether by a fall of sickness,
within a little time turned fatous and silly, and died soe. His great
house of Craigie fell to be some way out of order, and either he or his
son went to repair it, and when the workmen were at it a great part of it
fell down and had almost buried them all; and its how, indeed, a ruinous
heap!" About a portion of the castle falling while undergoing repair is
borne out by tradition, but the other part of the story is unsupported.
Sire Hugh Wallace, the laird referred to in the foregoing, was knighted by
Charles I. He was most liberal in his ideas, fought with Montrose at the
Battle of Philiphaugh, and was amongst the vanquished insurgents. He died
about 1650.
After straying among the
ruins of Craigie Castle I crossed the field in which they stand, and soon
arrived in the farm-yard of Craigie Mains. Here, built into a wall is a
curious old stone with some grotesque figures cut on it. It was found
amongst the ruins of the castle, and the design was considered by the
peasantry to represent wild men engaging in a game of draughts. At first
glance it is not unlike a thing of the kind, but upon closer inspection
the initiated in heraldic designs finds it to be the arms of the Wallaces
of Riccarton and the Lyndesays of Craigie quartered--the circumstance
suggesting that a portion of Craigie Castle was built during the lifetime
of John Wallace, who, as already stated, married the Craigie heiress. |