Springburn Virtual Museum

SPRINGBURN: ROME OF THE NORTH

Ian R. Mitchell

mitchell@finnieston.fsnet.co.uk

November 2004

An abbreviated version of this article appeared in the Scots Magazine, November 2004. The article will be also be a chapter in the book This City Now; Pedestrian Encounters with Proletarian Glasgow, by Ian R. Mitchell, published by Luath Press in January 2005.

Springburn - the Rome of the North? But consider the evidence. Like Rome, Glasgow's Springburn is built on seven hills, as the ditty quoted at the beginning of this article records. And the Romans were there - in fact they built the Antonine Wall just to the north of Springburn, and through the area a Roman Road went to the fort on the wall at Cadder.

But most tellingly, just as in the days of the Roman Empire when "all roads led to Rome", so at the height of the British Empire, all roads, or at least the vital iron ones, led to Springburn. The British Empire was held together by its railways, and before 1914 more than half of the locomotives riding the lines of mother country and colonies were built in Springburn. From the workshops there, they trundled down the tramlines at night to the docks, and thence were carried by sea to all parts of the globe. These events were marked by the local population, who poured out at night under the gas street lamps, to watch the mighty engines rolling by.

In Springburn Park, there stands, like a memorial to a Roman Emperor, the statue of James Reid. From the highest hill in Glasgow, he looks down over the district which was his own empire, and whose character he did so much to forge. Born in Auchterarder in 1823, Reid became a partner in and manager of the Hyde Park Works, which he bought over in 1876, bringing his sons into the business.

The statue of James Reid in Springburn Park

Before he died in 1894, Reid had left his mark on Springburn - and on Glasgow itself. Springburn Park opened in 1892, and the following year Reid gifted a bandstand, constructed by MacFarlane's Saracen Foundry in Possil, to it. Reid's statue was erected in the park in 1900, and commemorated his role both as President of the Society of Engineers and Shipbuilders, and President of the Royal Glasgow Institute of Fine Arts. The family were art collectors, and a fine portrait of James Reid hangs in Glasgow Kelvingrove Galleries, to which they also gifted a Constable, a Corot and a Turner.

James' son Hugh left an even bigger mark on Springburn, and especially its fine park. He purchased the mansion and grounds of Mosesfield in 1904, and donated these to the park. In Mosesfield mansion in 1896 George Johnston created the prototype of the Arrol-Johstone motor car, and laid the foundation of the Scottish automobile industry. Thus in Springburn at the height of the boom in the railways, was invented the vehicle that would lead to the sad demise of the iron ways. After a while as Springburn Museum, Mosesfield mansion became an old mens' club, which it remains.

His own mansion, Belmont House, was built in 1889 by Hugh Reid on his marriage, and in its day was both the largest and the highest (at 350 ft above sea level) house in Glasgow, with a view from its eminence overlooking seven counties. When he died in 1935 he left the building for use as a childrens' home. Sadly, after a while as a training school for nurses and administrative buildings for Stobhill Hospital, Belmont was demolished in 1985. Other features in the park recalling Hugh Reid are the Unicorn Column, a pottery monument supplied by Doulton of Lambeth; this was originally erected elsewhere but has been in the park since 1970, though sadly now, it is without its unicorn (1). Hugh also donated £10,000 in 1900 to the now derelict but once magnificent Winter Gardens in the park; there is talk of restoration here. The splendid rockery remains open, however.

In the era when, apart from the summer holiday, most working people found their recreational opportunities limited to the local public park, the area operated as a social metaphor. Within their bounds approved uplifting recreational activities took place, as did approved entertainment. They were closed on Sundays and there was no alcohol sold. The parks frequently hosted war memorials emphasising the duty of loyalty to King and Country, and statues of civic dignitaries, often local capitalists, recording their benevolence. Springburn Park is a fine example of such a social metaphor.

Completed locomotive leaving Hyde Park works, c 1948

The basis of this Reid family largesse was the enormous wealth generated by locomotive manufacture before 1914, before air and even road were serious rivals to its transport monopoly. The possession of a worldwide empire provided a captive market for steam railway engines. Hugh Reid astutely brought about the end of competition between the Glasgow-based locomotive manufacturers in 1903, though an amalgamation of the Hyde Park Works with its main rivals, the Atlas Works and Queen's Park Works, to form the North British Locomotive Works. From a sleepy weavers' village in the 1840s, Springburn by 1900 was the centre of world locomotive making, with up to 15,000 people working in the railway factories and associated railway yards.

Springburn's advantages turned into disadvantages. Its factories continued to mass-produce steam locomotives for a diminishing empire and a diminishing market. The general manager of the NBLC predicted in 1936 that electricity would never replace steam on main-line trains. By the time the Glasgow works switched to diesel or later electric locomotives, they were unable to compete. Locomotive production stopped in Springburn in the 1960s. An ever-shrinking BREL repair workshop facility at Cowlairs continued as the area's sole link with its glorious industrial past, until it was closed with the loss of 1600 jobs in 1986. You can see many fine specimens of Springburn's craftsmanship in the Glasgow Transport Museum.

Springburn railway workers protesting against closure of works

Unlike some other industrial areas of Glasgow, which were almost entirely working class, Springburn had a more complex class structure. Balgrayhill, in which the park was situated, was then the desirable part of Springburn. Aside from Mosesfield mansion and "the wee hoose above the shop" - Reid's Belmont mansion to the north of the park - the southern park boundary was formed by Broomfield Road, a street of solid middle-class villas. This "posh" bit of Springburn even has a "castle" in the form of Balgray Tower. Locally known as Breezes Tower, this is a mock Tudor house built in the 1830s, with a three storied central octagonal tower - still functioning as a dwelling house. Urban myths are fascinating. I was studying the tower when a proud local came up and claimed, "It was built by a Tobacco Lord, for tae see his ships comin up the Clyde." I didn't have the heart to point out the tobacco lords were long gone by 1830, and I left him with his myth. But he was right when he told me, to my initial scepticism, "And there's a Rennie Mackintosh hoose just doon below it." At 140-2 Balgrayhill Road is indeed a two storied semi-detached villa which was designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh in 1890. Its semi-octagonal bay windows with stained glass are all that remain of Mackintosh's imprint however, as the interiors were gutted some time ago.

Balgray Tower, locally known as Breezes Tower

From Balgrayhill the rest of Springburn was - literally and socially - downhill. Though it should be said that in its heyday Springburn was one of the most prosperous and "respectable" of Glasgow's working-class areas, because of the high proportion of skilled workers employed in the locomotive works.

Tom Weir wrote something about this respectable working-class world of the Springburn he grew up in between the wars, in his autobiography, Weir's World (1994):

"As a lad I found the noise and stir of Springburn exciting. Each morning an army of locomotive workmen, thousands strong, answered the shriek of the hooters, the noise of their heavy boots clattering on the pavements, all in a uniform of dungarees. Noisy tramcars, bells clanging, would be chuntering up and down Springburn Road, where shops of every kind faced each other, many bearing the logo of Cowlairs Co-operative Society."

Both Tom's parents were from railway working families, and his mother worked as a painter in the locomotive shops for a while. His was the world of the Boy's Brigade, YMCA, cycling and boxing clubs to keep fit, and trips to Springburn Library or even tramps across Glasgow to the Mitchell library for self-education. Like many mothers, Tom's wanted him to have a white-collar job, and on leaving school he started worked in the Co-operative stores. But not desiring to have engraved on his tombstone "Born A Man, Died A Grocer", Tom eventually managed to escape and to earn himself a living as a well-loved broadcaster and writer, including having a monthly feature in the Scots Magazine for many years. One impetus to his outdoor career he mentions was that from Springburn's hills you could see the distant, greater hills - of the Campsies, and beyond those, Ben Lomond and the mountains of Arrochar.

More than many other area of Glasgow, Springburn's original street pattern has been obliterated by redevelopment. Dropping down Balgrayhill along Lenzie Street there is almost nothing left of pre-1970s Springburn. Along Springburn Way some of the former buildings stand, but the centre of Springburn now consists mainly of a shopping centre and a sports centre which, though functional, are of limited visual interest or architectural merit. Gone are landmarks like Quin's Bar, with its tower clock and its famous (understairs) howff, where favoured regulars could drink after hours, immortalised in the song:

Doon in the wee room underneath the sterr
Everybody's happy everybody's there
We're a' getting merry each in his cherr
Doon in the wee room underneath the sterr.

Historic Springburn was literally sliced in half by the construction in the 1970s of the A803 road, whose purpose was to speed up by a few minutes the daily incoming and exit of commuters working in Glasgow but living in places like Bishopbriggs. This road, which so damaged Springburn, was not constructed for its inhabitants, since car ownership is the Glasgow average of about one third of households. It forcibly divided one half of Springburn from its shops and facilities by a dual carriageway with associated overpasses, and the demolition for the road has left us - 30 years later - with large vacant grassed-over spaces on each side. As a symbol of this neglect, stands (only just!) the formerly glorious Springburn Public Halls, constructed in 1902 - again partly funded by the benefactions of the Reid family. If you look carefully at the facade on its frontage you will see two Greek goddesses, representing Art and Industry (the latter cradling a locomotive). The hall is now the home of broken windows, pigeons and graffiti.

About the only relic hereabouts of Springburn's glory days is the Co-op Fountain, originally erected in 1902 at the Cross, but moved to the shopping centre in 1981. Its motto is "Unity is Strength" and it recalls the times when the Co-op was a vital part of working-class life. Indeed, the Springburn and Cowlairs Co-op was largely owned by the local railway workers, and was actually founded in 1881 when workers on strike could not get credit from local shopkeepers. It became a roaring success, with 26 branches. Another function of the Co-op was to provide a loan for those having to purchase their tools on taking up a railway apprenticeship.

A little further on from the shopping centre you come to Springburn Station, whose delapidated state is a biting irony, given that Springburn was once the world's railway capital. The Hyde Park Works lay to the south of the railway line, while the Atlas Works was situated to the north. The latter factory give its name to Atlas Square, where the Springburn Library was located until recently. A plaque on the wall commemorates the refurbishing of this and the opening of an associated Springburn Museum by Tom Weir himself in 1988. The library has recently been moved to the sports centre where there is a small display on the history of Springburn, and where the local history group meets. The library staff are extremely helpful, and the place has a collection of old pictures and maps worth looking at, and leaflets about Springburn's heritage, including one produced for the 1999 Year of Architecture on Springburn's various historical monuments.

Springburn was an early centre of trades unionism and socialist groupings. In 1890 the first national strike of railwaymen was centred on Springburn, when 9,000 men came out, largely in protest against the enforced working of excessive hours, sometimes up to 20 per day. The Cowlairs and St Rollox works were actually owned by the railway companies, and their workers joined the strike. Gangs of pickets engaged in nocturnal skirmishes with police in the Springburn streets, and the police report of the strike mentioned:

"Shortly after midnight a body of strikers, sixty strong, arrived upon the scene, and proceeded in marching order in the direction of the railway at St. Rollox. A sufficient number of constables having been brought together, the strikers were charged...."

It is significant that the Hyde Park works, a family-owned firm, did not join the strike. Reid, its owner, was paternalistic and determinedly anti-union. This attitude at Hyde Park continued even after it merged with its rivals to form the North British Locomotive Company, and in the General Strike of 1926, while the other railway workshops came out for the miners, the response at Hyde Park was very patchy. (Only in the 1950s, with an influx of militant electricians when the works converted to electric trains, did this deferential attitude end at Hyde Park). Generally though the strike was solid in Springburn, and John Thomas recalls in The Springburn Story that a tramcar driven by a volunteer was hounded out of Springburn by flour bombs -despite the pile of stones lying handy from a demolished building. He comments that "The Springburn revolutionaries, rather than throw stones, queued up at the local shop to buy flour bombs at their own expense."

John Paton was an Aberdonian socialist who came to Glasgow before the first world war to experience what he called "the more exciting and wider world" of the big city. He got a job in Springburn as a barber and married there, joining the local Independent Labour Party (ILP). He describes the optimism and activity of that period well, and comments in Proletarian Pilgrimage (1936):

"The Springburn I.L.P. was a hive of activity. It had about a hundred members and a steady flow of new recruits. For the most part the men belonged to the skilled trades like engineering, and were almost always known as good and steady workmen. They were active trades unionists to a man. The great majority were total abstainers. There was a strong element of puritanism in their make-up."

Paton's optimism as to the future a century ago - and arrogance about his political correctness - echoes my own on arriving in Glasgow just after the huge class struggles of the early 1970s, and thinking that a new world was on hand. Like most other heavily working-class areas of Glasgow, Springburn returned an ILP Red Clydeside member to Westminster in 1922. Paton stood for the ILP in a couple of seats and failed, becoming in turn national organiser and editor of its paper New Leader. Eventually he moved right and became a Labour MP in the 1945 election. His book remains a wonderful account of an historical period, and deserves to be reprinted.

The doorway of the North British Locomotive Company

It is surprising and gratifying that anything of Springburn's heritage has escaped the demolition men or the more insidious effects of neglect, but in Flemington Street you can get a glimpse of former glory. The buildings of the present North Glasgow College were once the offices of the North British Locomotive Company. Outside are fine sculptures representing Science and Speed, while over the front door is the splendid carved elevation of a locomotive. But these foretastes are nothing to what lies inside. You could spend hours in here, and there is even a Heritage Trail, which the college encourages visitors to follow. Plaques commemorate the dead of both wars who worked for the company, and also the opening of the building by Lord Roseberry in 1908. A magnificent wood and marble staircase leads to the even more magnificent boardroom. The windows behind the staircase contain striking stained glass first world war memorials.

Alex McCaughey, the janitor who showed me round, is justifiably proud of his building. "But it's amazing how few people are aware of it, even in Springburn itself", he commented, "though we are always willing to show folk round". Places like this should be on any Glasgow visitor's itinerary.

As Springburn Park is the "dear green place" in the north of the district, so Sighthill Cemetery is the same in the south. Sighthill is so called because of the view that can be had from it, and here in the 1840s Glasgow opened up a large new cemetery. Though not having the status of residents of the Necropolis beside Glasgow Cathedral, where Glasgow's haute bourgeoisie were buried, those interred in Sighthill were nevertheless "quality" shipmasters, professional men and the like. James Mossman is buried here, beneath a fairly simple stone. Mossman founded the firm (which still exists near Glasgow Cathedral) of monumental sculptors which was responsible for more public sculpture in Victorian Glasgow than any other. Regrettably Ray Mackenzie's wonderful book Sculpture in Glasgow (1999), which does so much for Mossman's reputation, does not include his burial stone in it, nor any of the other fine public sculpture of Springburn. An oversight to be corrected, one hopes.

The most famous of those interred at Sighthill were, however, of much lower rank. In 1847 a monument was raised by public subscription to honour John Baird and Andrew Hardie (later James Wilson was also commemorated there). These three men were all executed for taking part in the so-called Radical War of 1820. In that year the first mass strike in world history took place when 60,000 workers in the West of Scotland downed tools for the right to vote. Baird, Wilson and Hardie, along with some others, carried their protest as far as armed insurrection, and paid the ultimate price, though their example inspired later generations of reformers who eventually achieved many of the original aims of the men of 1820.

In Glasgow and its Clubs, dating from 1856, John Strang quotes from the account of a member of the Waterloo Club, a patriotic organisation, describing the panic that seized the city. The authorities mobilised the soldiers at Bridegton Barracks and called out volunteer middle-class militias, to defend the city against expected attack. The account states:

"From Sunday morning, when the famous or rather infamous inflammatory placard was posted at the corner of the streets, all the public works and factories were closed, while the miners in and around Glasgow struck work."

The volunteer militias patrolled the streets, where "idle crowds collected in gloomy groups about the corners of the leading thoroughfares", and the "ill-conditioned, irritable and starving working men in Calton, Bridgeton and the Gorbals" were on strike. But only scattered risings took place.

From the cemetery you overlook the housing of Sighthill, now home to many asylum seekers fleeing persecution abroad, and reminding us that even today not everyone has the rights and freedoms for which those like Baird and Hardie fought almost two centuries ago. Sighthill has had its tensions over this asylum issue, but indications now are that community relations are improving. Walking around there made me think of the song "Freedom Come All Ye" by the late great Scottish writer Hamish Henderson, whose lines cite his hopes for the future:

When John Maclean meets wi his freens in Springburn
A the roses and geans will turn tae bloom
................................................
Black and white ane till ither merriet
Will find bried, barley bree and painted room.

We started this exploration of Springburn with the railway "Emperor" Reid on his high hill above Springburn. It is fitting that we end also with a railway theme, and just to the east of Sighthill Park, in the area now occupied by the interstices of the M8 and the A803, where the St Rollox Chemical Works stood until 1964. With Glasgow all industrial history is in superlatives; biggest, first, greatest, and St Rollox is no exception. This was the largest chemical works in Europe, as well as one of the oldest, founded in 1797. Its chimney known as Tennant's Lum was, at 435ft, reputedly the highest in the world, and a landmark far and wide until demolished in 1922. This was also the site of Scotland's first railway, the Garnkirk to Glasgow, which was constructed in 1831 to supply St Rollox with coal, and was opened by none other than George Stephenson, the railway pioneer. St Rollox also created huge chemical waste deposits, which enjoyed an infamy sufficient for Glasgow artist Muirhead Bone to try to convey the sense of desolation they inspired. Today these wastes lie underneath Sighthill Park and the housing surrounding it.

The largest chemical works in the world, like the largest railway workshops, are found no more in Springburn. Belmont mansion is gone, the Winter Gardens are a skeleton, the Public Hall a rotting shell. Like Rome, the streets of Springburn are filled with ruins and ghosts. But Springburn's time, like that of Rome, may yet come again. However, unlike the Gorbals or Brigton, Springburn lies a little too far from booming central Glasgow to benefit from its commercial and housing developments, and it may have to wait a little while for the roses and geans to bloom.

(1) By January 2005 the Unicorn had been restored to the Doulton pillar.