WALKS ABOUT GLASGOW.
Our party remained two days more in Glasgow, and visited quite a number
of objects of interest and curiosity in and around the city.
At one end of the town there was a large open space, laid out for a
pleasure ground; being somewhat similar in character to Boston Common,
only it lay on the margin of the river, and commanded delightful views,
both of the city itself and of the surrounding country. The grounds were
adorned with trees and shrubbery, and paths were laid out over every
portion of it, that were delightful to walk in. There were seats, too,
at every point that commanded a pretty view. This place was called the
Green.
The Green was at the eastern extremity of the city. At the other end,
that is, towards the west, there was a region more elevated than the
rest of the town, where the wealthy people resided. The streets were
arranged in crescents and terraces, and were very magnificent. The
houses were almost all built of stone, and were of a very massive and
substantial, as well as elegant character.
Nearer the centre of the town was a very large and ancient church,
called the cathedral. It was a solemn-looking pile of buildings,
standing by itself in a green yard, back from the road, and thousands of
swallows were twittering and chirping high up among the pinnacles and
cornices of the roof. Although it was in the midst of a crowded city,
the whole structure wore an expression of great seclusion and solitude.
Behind the church, and separated from it by a narrow valley, there was a
steep hill, that was covered, in every part, with tombs, and monuments,
and sepulchral enclosures. The hill was two or three hundred feet high,
and there was a very tall monument on the top of it. There was a bridge
across the valley behind the cathedral leading to this cemetery.
"Ah," said Mr. George, "that is the Necropolis."
"The Necropolis?" repeated Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George. "I read about it in the guide book. Necropolis
means 'City of the Dead,' and it is a city of the dead indeed."
There were pathways leading up the side of the hill by many zigzags and
windings. Across the bridge leading to it was a great iron gateway,
with a small iron gate open in the middle of it. The boys wanted to go
immediately to the cemetery, in order to have the pleasure of climbing
up the zigzag paths to the top of the hill. But Mr. George said he
wished first to go into the cathedral.
There was a gate leading into the cathedral yard, and a porter's lodge
just inside of it. There was a sign up at the lodge, saying that the
price of admission to see the interior of the cathedral was sixpence for
each person. Waldron said that he did not think it was worth sixpence to
go, and Rollo said that he did not care much about going. He had seen
cathedrals enough, he said, on the continent. So it was agreed that the
boys should go to the cemetery, and wait there till Mr. George came.
The boys accordingly went down the walk that led to the bridge. They
stopped a moment at the open gate, not knowing whether it was right for
them to go in or not. As, however, the gate was open, and there was
nobody there to forbid the passage, they stepped over the iron
threshold, and entered. There was a porter's lodge just inside, and a
man standing at the door of it.
"Can we go in and see the cemetery?" asked Waldron.
"Certainly," said the porter. "Are you strangers in Glasgow?"
"Yes, sir," said Rollo, "we are Americans. My uncle is in the cathedral,
and he is coming pretty soon."
"Then please to come in," said the porter, "and enter your names in the
visitors' book."
So the boys went in. They found a very pleasant room, with a large book
open on a desk, near a window. They wrote their names in this book, and
also their residences, and they stopped a few minutes to look over the
names that had been written there before, in order to see if any persons
from America had recently visited the cemetery. They found several names
of persons from New York on the list, and two or three from
Philadelphia. While the boys were looking over the book the porter asked
them a great many questions about America.
In a few minutes they went on. They stopped on the middle of the bridge,
and looked down over the balustrade into the ravine. The ravine was very
deep, and there was a little brook at the bottom of it, and a sort of
road or street along the side of it, far below them.
The boys then went on into the cemetery. They walked about it for some
time, ascending continually higher and higher, and stopping at every
turn to read the inscriptions and monuments. At length they reached the
summit of the hill, where the lofty column stood which had been erected
to the memory of John Knox, the great Scottish reformer. The column
stood upon a pedestal, which contained an inscription on each of the
four sides of it. One of these inscriptions said that John Knox was a
man who could never be made to swerve from his duty by any fear or any
danger, and that, although his life was often threatened by "dag and
dagger," he was still carried safely through every difficulty and
danger, and died, at last, in peace and happiness; and that the people
of Glasgow, mindful of the invaluable services he rendered to his
country, had erected that monument in honor of his memory.
The boys had just finished reading the inscription, when, looking down
upon the bridge, they saw Mr. George coming. They went down to meet him,
and then showed him the way up to the monument.
Mr. George first looked up to the summit of it, and then walked all
around it, reading the inscriptions. He read them aloud, and the boys
listened.
"Yes," said he, "John Knox was a true hero. He stood up manfully and
fearlessly for the right when almost all the world was against him; and
to do that requires a great deal of courage, as well as great strength
of character. Many people reviled and hated him while he lived, but now
his memory is universally honored.
"I hope you two boys, when you come to be men," continued Mr. George,
"will follow his example. What you know is right, that always defend, no
matter if all the world are against it. And what is wrong, that always
oppose, no matter if all the world are in favor of it."
"Yes, sir," said Waldron, "I mean to."
Mr. George and the boys rambled about the Necropolis some time longer,
and then went on.
While they were in Glasgow the party visited several of the great
manufacturing establishments. They were all very much surprised at the
loftiness of some of the chimneys. There was one at a great
establishment, called the St. Rollox Chemical Works, which was over four
hundred and thirty feet high, and Mr. George estimated that it must have
been thirty or forty feet diameter at the base. If, now, you ask your
father, or some friend, how high the steeple is of the nearest church to
where you live, and multiply that height by the necessary number, you
will get some idea of the magnitude of this prodigious column. The
lightning rod, that came down the side of it in a spiral line, looked
like a spider's web that had been, by chance, blown against the chimney
by the wind.