Old Photograph Bowling Green West Calder Scotland


Old photograph of the Lawn Bowling Green in West Calder in West Lothian, Scotland. Scottish bowlers developed the present flat green game, established rules, worked out a uniform code of laws, and were instrumental in saving the game for posterity. The ancient game of bowls has always been dear to the heart of every true Scot, and it has always held a prominent place in the history and literature of Scotland. To the Scots goes the credit also for giving the game an international background, as emigrant Scots enthusiastically carried the game with them to all parts of the world. Today there are more than 200 public bowling greens in the City of Glasgow alone.

Notable people from West Calder include;

James Douglas was born on 21 March 1675 in West Calder. He was one of the seven sons of William Douglas, and his wife, Joan, daughter of James Mason of Park, Blantyre. In 1694 James Douglas graduated MA from the University of Edinburgh and then took his medical doctorate at Reims before going to London, England, in 1700. He worked as an obstetrician, and gaining a great reputation as a physician, was elected Fellow of the Royal Society of London in 1706. One of the most respected anatomists in the country, Douglas was also a well known man midwife. He was asked to investigate the case of Mary Toft, an English woman from Godalming, Surrey, who in 1726 became the subject of considerable controversy when she tricked doctors into believing that she had given birth to rabbits. Despite his early scepticism, Douglas thought that a woman giving birth to rabbits was as likely as a rabbit giving birth to a human child, Douglas went to see Toft, and subsequently exposed her as a fraud. Douglas died in London on 2 April 1742, leaving a widow and two children.

Robert McKeen, born 12 July 1884, died 5 August 1974, was a New Zealand politician of the Labour Party. He was Speaker of the House of Representatives. He was born in 1884 in Edinburgh and received his education in West Calder. In Scotland, he was active in the labour movement, and worked as a grocer's assistant in a co-operative store. He emigrated to New Zealand in 1909, and worked in coal mines on the West Coast before moving to Wellington, and a grocery store. He was a union official. He married Jessie Russell, the daughter of Robert Russell. He died in Otaki on 5 August 1974 and is buried at the Kelvin Grove Cemetery in Palmerston North.

John Kane, born August 19, 1860, died August 10, 1934, was an American painter celebrated for his skill in Naïve art. He was born John Cain to Irish parents in West Calder. His father died when he was age 10, leaving behind a widow and 7 children. His father was employed as a grave digger in West Calder, it is said that he dug a grave on Friday and filled it on Monday. The young Kane quit school to work in the shale mines. He actually worked at Youngs Parrafin works and was so struck with the malleability of the hot parrafin moulds that he made a mask of his own face for his mother Biddy. Naturally he burned his face, but not too seriously. After his mother remarried, he emigrated to the United States at age 19, following his stepfather and older brother Patrick, who had preceded him to America and were working in Braddock, Pennsylvania, just east of Pittsburgh. In both 1925 and 1926 he submitted paintings to the Carnegie Internationals sponsored by the Carnegie Museum of Art, but the works were rejected. The next year, however, Kane found a champion in painter juror Andrew Dasburg, who persuaded the jury to accept Kane’s Scene in the Scottish Highlands. The story of the untrained, now 67 year old. painter's success was trumpeted by the newspapers. The publicity around the show came to the notice of Kane's wife, who was living in West Virginia, and with whom he'd lost contact for over ten years. They reconciled and remained together during the last years of his life. John Kane died of tuberculosis on August 10, 1934 and is interred at Pittsburgh's Roman Catholic Calvary Cemetery.



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Old Photograph Murray Wynd West Wemyss Fife Scotland


Old photograph of houses and children on Murray Wynd in West Wemyss, Fife, Scotland. A Wynd is typically a narrow lane between houses. The name is frequently encountered in towns and villages in Scotland and Northern England. The word derives from Old Norse venda, implying a turning off a main street. This Scottish village is located on the north shore of the Firth of Forth coast. The village began as a settlement around the site of Wemyss Castle which developed into a centre for the salt industry in the area. A harbour was later built in 1621 by the Wemyss family for the use of coal exportation from the pits on the lands of their estate. The harbour would become a major export point for coal by the late 17th century. The ships brought back imports of wood, iron and flax from the Baltic Countries. A wet dock was added for the increased demand of the coal in the late 1870s. Towards the latter stages of the 19th century, the village found itself surrounded by several mines, such as the Michael Pit in nearby East Wemyss. The industry, which saw trade with England and The Low Countries, started to struggle once the new docks were opened in Methil further along the Fife coast. Gradually, the demand for the harbour began to fall and it went into decline.





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Old Photograph Woolworths Shop Paisley Scotland


Old photograph of the Woolworths Shop on the High Street in Paisley by Glasgow, Scotland. The British branch of the F. W. Woolworth Company, which had been founded in Pennsylvania, F W Woolworth & Co, Ltd was founded by Frank Woolworth in Liverpool, England on 5 November 1909. Frank Woolworth had ancestry in Woolley, Cambridgeshire. Frank claimed he had traced his ancestry through the Founding Fathers of the district to a small farm in middle England. When Frank eventually travelled to England in 1890, he docked in Liverpool and travelled by train to Stoke on Trent for the purchase of china and glassware for Woolworth's ranges, but also noted his love of England in his diary and his aspirations for bringing the Woolworth name to England. During the buying trip, Woolworth met a young clerk, William Lawrence Stephenson, who was recommended to him by John Wanamaker. Wanamaker had established a large chain of department stores across the United States and was one of Woolworth's heroes. Stephenson was invited to London to meet Woolworth again, and was offered the job as director of the new company, which he accepted.



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Tour Scotland Autumn Photograph River Grudie Wester Ross


Tour Scotland Autumn photograph of the River Grudie on ancestry visit to the Scottish Highlands of Wester Ross, Scotland. The River Grudie, Abhainn Ghrùididh in Scottish Gaelic, flows into the River Bran, from the north, at Grudie. Grudie Power Station is situated at Grudie, taking water from several lochs, principally Loch Fannich through a tunnel emerging 0.5 miles from the station where a pipe network delivers it to the station. The outflow of the station flows into the River Grudie.



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Tour Scotland Photograph Falls of Bruar Highland Perthshire


Tour Scotland photograph of the Falls of Bruar on the Bruar Water about 8 miles North of Pitlochry in Highland Perthshire, Scotland.They have been a tourist attraction since the 18th century and were immortalized in a poem by Robert Burns, The Humble Petition of Bruar Water.

My lord, I know your noble ear
Woe ne'er assails in vain;
Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear
Your humble slave complain,
How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams,
In flaming summer pride,
Dry withering, waste my foamy streams,
And drink my crystal tide.

The lightly jumping, glowrin' trouts,
That thro' my waters play,
If, in their random, wanton spouts,
They near the margin stray;

If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
I'm scorching up so shallow,
They're left the whitening stanes amang,
In gasping death to wallow.

Last day I grat wi' spite and teen,
As poet Burns came by.
That, to a bard, I should be seen
Wi' half my channel dry;
A panegyric rhyme, I ween,
Ev'n as I was, he shor'd me;
But had I in my glory been,
He, kneeling, wad ador'd me.

Here, foaming down the skelvy rocks,
In twisting strength I rin;
There, high my boiling torrent smokes,
Wild-roaring o'er a linn:
Enjoying each large spring and well,
As Nature gave them me,
I am, altho' I say't mysel',
Worth gaun a mile to see.

Would then my noble master please
To grant my highest wishes,
He'll shade my banks wi' tow'ring trees,
And bonie spreading bushes.
Delighted doubly then, my lord,
You'll wander on my banks,
And listen mony a grateful bird
Return you tuneful thanks.

The sober lav'rock, warbling wild,
Shall to the skies aspire;
The gowdspink, Music's gayest child,
Shall sweetly join the choir;
The blackbird strong, the lintwhite clear,
The mavis mild and mellow;
The robin pensive Autumn cheer,
In all her locks of yellow.

This, too, a covert shall ensure,
To shield them from the storm;
And coward maukin sleep secure,
Low in her grassy form:
Here shall the shepherd make his seat,
To weave his crown of flow'rs;
Or find a shelt'ring, safe retreat,
From prone-descending show'rs.

And here, by sweet, endearing stealth,
Shall meet the loving pair,
Despising worlds, with all their wealth,
As empty idle care;
The flow'rs shall vie in all their charms,
The hour of heav'n to grace;
And birks extend their fragrant arms
To screen the dear embrace.

Here haply too, at vernal dawn,
Some musing bard may stray,
And eye the smoking, dewy lawn,
And misty mountain grey;
Or, by the reaper's nightly beam,
Mild-chequering thro' the trees,
Rave to my darkly dashing stream,
Hoarse-swelling on the breeze.

Let lofty firs, and ashes cool,
My lowly banks o'erspread,
And view, deep-bending in the pool,
Their shadow's wat'ry bed:
Let fragrant birks, in woodbines drest,
My craggy cliffs adorn;
And, for the little songster's nest,
The close embow'ring thorn.

So may old Scotia's darling hope,
Your little angel band
Spring, like their fathers, up to prop
Their honour'd native land!
So may, thro' Albion's farthest ken,
To social-flowing glasses,
The grace be - "Athole's honest men,
And Athole's bonie lasses!



All photographs are copyright of Sandy Stevenson, Tour Scotland, and may not be used without permission.

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