In July 1895, a reader of the Coatbridge & Airdrie Advertiser told of a ramble by the River Clyde over from Bothwell to Blantyre Works. A nice description worth mentioning here:
“Ascending a gentle incline to Bothwell, we proceed westward through the outskirts of the village towards Blantyre, and recross the river by a long, narrow suspension bridge hung high in the air.
From our unusual position, high above the tree tops, we mark many fine effects – the rounded symmetry of the sycamore, the easy grace of the elm, the airy elegance of the silver birch; while far below, the ‘liked sweetness long drawn out” of our noble and beautiful Clyde.
A prospect of great extent and beauty opens upon our gaze. The giant form of Tinto is seen towering vast and grand on the horizon. On either side of the river are long rich sunlit meadows over which the winds are playing in wavy streams. Never do the fields wear so delightful an aspect as now. Buttercups glitter in the meadows as if they were paved with flowers of gold. The corn waves in the wind down the long furrows like immense sheets of green silk. Sweet is the perfume which floats over the blossoming clover fields, which spread out like costly silken carpets, inwrought with rich flowers of white and purple.
Our path along the riverside is also rife with floral loveliness. Pink wild roses, with flowers delicate as the bloom of a maiden’s cheek, are in full blossom. The grateful, heart-shaped nettle leaf appears with its purple stem amid a miniature forrest of green mare’s tail and other weeds of glorious feature.
The golden tufts of the birds foot trefoil lie in bright relief beneath the gloom of the overhanging branches, and there too the tufted vetch is displaying its clusters of lilac shaded purple blossoms. By the dry bank the azure harebell, the bluebell of Scotland, now blows its delicate cups, clear and bright as the blue of heaven, trembling at every dallying breeze that breathes, as if they were afraid of being away from the fragile stem.
We pass on, and note the honeysuckle twining her graceful tendrils round a thousand fantastic shapes. Then there are the ragged-robins with their pink hoods, and ” The sweet forget-me-nots, that grow for happy lovers.” On the wayside we meet with the large ox-eye daisy, which shoots up where no other flowers grow, amid the broken and arid ground. Often most David Livingstone have roamed over those banks and braes on botanical and geological excursions, preparing himself in a measure, for the scientific explorations he afterwards undertook in Africa with so marked ability and success.
Blantyre reached, we visit the house where the intrepid missionary and explorer first saw the light of day. A humble home it was, richer in love than luxury, its chief characteristics plain living and high thinking. We see also the mill where, as a ” piecer,” he wrought from six o’clock in the morning until eight o’clock at night fixing his open book on the spinning jenny before him, that his eye might catch a sentence as be passed in the midst of his work. Before departing a cordial vote of thanks is awarded to Mr Ferguson, who replies in a few impressive words, urging upon the members the importance of becoming acquainted with the flora of the district, as it is one of the most fascinating and profitable of studies and one truly productive of self culture.
As we speed homeward the king of day is sinking to rest in the western sky, positioned amid clouds of every hue, the splendours of burnished gold fading away in the higher heavens to saffron, pink, and most delicately tinted shade of emerald ; and an ocean of purple shadow flung over the twilight of woods and the far-stretching landscape.
The heart of the spectator is melted, the soul slips away from the sense of its own paltry joys and sorrows and is rapt into dreams of past and present – pure, elevated, and tinged with a poetic tenderness which never can awake amidst the crowd of mortals or of books. The scene of beauty became, “A joy for ever, Whose loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep, Full of sweet dreams and health and quiet breathing.”
Pictured around 1905 in a rare view is the former Blantyre Suspension Bridge pictured from Blantyre Works looking back over towards Bothwell, on the route this visitor took 10 years before.
On Social Media, the following comments were received on Facebook:
Brian Charlton My father in law drove over it in a mini. They put bollards at both ends shortly after that, somebody must have reported it.
Elizabeth Baillie Alemanno Wow……. His words had me on that beautiful Ramble with him.
James Gribben The pey bridge.my auntie alice used to take the toll
Jane Devine Crawled over on my hands and knees while my brother walked on the outside thin pipe thing still terrified even with it being the new bridge I always think I’m going to be able too cross it then no I can’t I need to go back.
John Joahnsonn Amazing that they could see Tinto in the distance
Janette Murray My sisters & I walked over the bridge to Elmwood school in the 1960’s, along with many other Blantyre lassies.
John Mcgaulley This is the first bridge further up the Clyde toll bridge
Morag Burns We certainly did Janette.
Catherine Murphy Waked over the bridge many time used to done to David Livingstons in the summer time with my brothers and sister then we would love walking across the bridge to Bothwell then run back jumping up and down on the bridge just to make it shake then in later years walking across the bridge with my dad and sister going to our work in Honeywells we walked it everyday brings back many memories.
Agnes Vorsterman As kids in the late 50s we cycled over the bridge to Bothwell Castle. We also used to stand in the middle and jump up and down to make it shake. Simpler times
Beautiful story and great photo! What is the “Tinto” mentioned in the story?
Tinto Hill, located past Lanark, easily viewable from Blantyre