GLASGOW GREEN (or Common.)
I concluded to go down toward the Clyde again but had some difficulty
finding my way, for the streets were tortuous and winding, though quaint
and old-fashioned. I had seen pictures of such streets on the stage and
in plays. After much walking I came upon a thoroughfare called Stockwell
Street which led direct to the quays. I walked to the Albert Bridge and
contemplated its strength and solidity, and then walked in the direction
of a park which I saw not far distant. I was informed by someone whom I
asked that this was the Glasgow Common, or Green. The park, I should
judge, is about two miles long by about half a mile wide, and is almost
destitute of trees or plants. It is, in fact, nothing more than a bare
public playground fitted up with tennis courts, cricket grounds,
apparatus for gymnastic exercises, swings, a music-stand, etc. It surely
is an interesting spot. The walks are long and numerous, resting-places
are plentiful and near the river is a building used by the Humane
Society--a hospital, most likely. A little way in from the entrance is a
fountain that is worth describing. The "Glesgie" people seem to have a
grudge against it for some reason or other, but it is a nice and
elaborate work of art for all that. It is a large structure with a broad
basin and many other basins that diminish in diameter as they near the
top. The top basin is quite small. Around the largest basin are groups
of life-sized figures representing the various races of man, such as
Africans, Asiatics, Europeans, Australians and Americans. The figures
are exceedingly well done. On the topmost pinnacle of the fountain is a
heroic image of Lord Nelson, the great English Admiral. I thought the
whole work was a most elaborate and fine one.
Being tired, I sat down on a bench to rest. There were not very many
people in the park just then and I had a good view of everything.
Clear over on the other side of the park there wasn't a single person to
be seen except a couple that sat on a bench making love in strenuous
fashion. It was a workingman and a lassie. Did you ever watch a calf
when it sucks its mother, how it makes a grab for a teat, rest awhile,
then make another grab? That is the way that man made love. Suddenly he
would throw his arm around the girl's waist, press her to him, then let
go and take a breathing spell. The lassie sat quiet taking it all in and
saying never a word. In a few minutes the man would make another grab,
take a fresh hold and then let go again. It was a queer way of making
love, I thought. The couple wasn't bashful a bit and evidently didn't
care who saw them. I thought to myself that I would have to find some
lassie to give me a few lessons in the art of making love in Scotch
fashion, for I wasn't on to the game at all.
After a good long rest I strolled through the city to see some more of
it. It was quiet in the park just then and nothing doing.
I came upon the old Glasgow Cathedral which is by far the oldest
structure in the city and the most thought of by Glasgowites, but I was
not much impressed by it. It is a thousand years old or more, is great
in extent, is surrounded by ample grounds and is made of stone. It
contains flying buttresses and some other gim-crackery but the whole
thing is rather plain, black and dull. Sir Walter Scott in one of his
novels describes it faithfully, and if any one wants to know more about
it I politely request them to look up Sir Walter Scott. I ain't equal to
the task of describing architecture in detail and such things.
Not far from the Cathedral is the Necropolis, a very ancient burial
ground right in the heart of the city, almost. It is as ancient as the
Cathedral, maybe. It is a pretty spot and I went all through it. It is
built around a hillside and is of considerable extent. Along the street
level are walks bordered by trees, shrubs and flowers, and as you ascend
the hillside you will see elaborate tombs, monuments, shady nooks and
bosky bowers. On the highest portion of the rather steep and lofty hill
a fine view of Glasgow may be had, and here lies buried, beneath a fine
monument, John Knox, the Reformer. The Scotch think a heap about Mr.
Knox, but as I don't know much about him I can't say much. He must have
been a wonderful man and he surely lies buried in a grand spot. As a
rule I don't like to wander about in bone-yards, but as this one was so
pretty I was impelled to do so.
Let me say a few words about Glasgow in a general way before I continue
my story.
Glasgow is the commercial metropolis of Scotland. It contains about
800,000 people, and in most respects is a modern city. It is the center
of art, finance and trade, and what New York is to the United States,
Glasgow is to Scotland. There is much wealth, style and fashion there,
the people are workers and full of business. Wholesale and retail
establishments abound, ship-building yards are numerous, as are
foundries and manufacturing shops of many kinds. Chief of all the great
industries in Glasgow is the ship-building. The business of the port of
Glasgow is great and the volume of the shipping immense. These few
pointers will reveal to you that Glasgow is not a jay town by any means.