HISTORY OF NEWPORT AND THE PARISH OF FORGAN ; AND RAMBLES ROUND THE DISTRICT, by J. S. Neish, 1890
TAYPORT AND SCOTSCRAIG
From Newport to Tayport is but a walk of between two and three miles, and can be accomplished by an ordinary pedestrian in less than an hour. Many of my readers have doubtless often travelled the road, as it is a favourite exercise with Dundonians to cross the one ferry and return by the other for an afternoon ramble. The road is good, and from its elevation you obtain an uninterrupted view of the river all the way, and though the scenery is neither bold nor striking, there is a peculiar charm about the river which never palls on the senses, and though seen a thousand times o'er it appears ever fresh and ever new. Public roads, however, are hard and bare at the best; there is too much of the work-a-day business matter-of-fact about them as a rule to please the taste of a 'Rambler' in search of the beauties of nature. When out for a stroll we love to choose some by-path - some lonely, unfrequented track, over a bleak moor it may be, through a shady wood, or by the lone seashore, where you can muse alone, or hold uninterrupted converse with a friend amidst the solitudes of nature. Not much of that between Tayport and Newport, you say! Yes, even on that much-frequented route a solitary ramble can be enjoyed. Pass eastward along the coast road, and at Craighead you will find a footpath which descends the braes to the beach, and skirts the shore all the way to Tayport For some distance beyond Newport the shore is bold and rocky, and its upper ledges covered with trees and shrubs; then the land shelves gradually upward from the water's edge, leaving only a small margin of grassy bank between the cultivated fields and the shingly beach; and even this in some parts has been washed away by the action of the tides. By this path you can enjoy all the charms of a seaside ramble. The waters of the firth, fretting and murmuring on the pebbly strand, on which heaps of dry and withered seaweed, cast ashore and left high and dry by the receding tide, are decaying in the sun, and sending forth a 'briny odour', mingled with the fresh see breeze, make you feel as if you were treading the shores of the 'vasty deep'. Here the salmon fisher plies his craft; his solitary hut standing close to the beach, his coble lying close by, and his nets drying on the fence are the only signs of human life on the lonely shore.
As you approach Tayport the level beach gives way to broken and jagged rocks, you pass the
first of the Tay lighthouses erected close to the shore, the path ascends the braes again, and you find yourself in the narrow lanes of the quaint and old-fashioned seaport. The place and its general outlines are familiar to thousands who, in the hurry of railway travelling, cross the Tay and land on its pier, only to be whirled southwards on the great iron track, in their eager pursuit of business or pleasure. Few, however, think of spending an hour to visit the quaint little town that looks so picturesque on the hillside, or to inquire into its history, or the habits and pursuits of its inhabitants. Viewed from the river, it has rather a striking appearance; and occupying a commanding situation on the face of a bluff promontory, it forms a conspicuous landmark to mariners entering the Tay. Many a homesick sailor, returning to his native shores after an absence of years spent in battling with storms and hardships in foreign lands, has felt, if he has not expressed, the sentiments of Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner', as he neared the land after his weird and fearful voyage -
'Oh, dream of joy, is this indeed
The lighthouse top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this my ain countrie?'
Tayport is in every respect a seaport and manufacturing town, and has a population of about 3,000. It covers a large area on the face of a steep hill, but the streets are narrow and the houses small and old-fashioned, chiefly one storey in height, and many of them roofed with tiles. In the upper parts of the town there are a good number of self-contained houses with slated roofs, but none of them have much pretension to architectural display. The main street extends from the shore, where the railway station is situated, and winds over the eastern shoulder of the hill. It is about half a mile in length, and has a few good shops scattered about its centre. Streets and lanes diverge from it on either side, and where it emerges on the flat tableland beyond the village it branches off in two directions, west to Newport and south to St. Michael's, and at the latter place it forms a junction with the roads leading to Cupar and St. Andrews. There is a pretty extensive shipping trade, and the small harbour is generally well filled with vessels of moderate tonnage, loading or discharging cargoes. Coal, brought by the railway from the coalfields in the south-west of the county, is exported largely from this port to the Baltic and other parts of the world, while in the course of the year a considerable number of vessels arrive with cargoes of Esparto grass for the neighbouring paper mills at Guardbridge; and others with cargoes of wood, which are imported by Mr. Donaldson, timber merchant, Tayport. The harbour is small, but it affords a safe mooring for vessels drawing as much as sixteen feet of water at ordinary tides. Before the Tay Bridge was erected, the whole of the mineral and goods traffic of the North British Railway was carried over the Tay at this ferry. The steamers employed in this traffic were specially constructed for the purpose. Their decks were laid with lines of rails, and they had no bulwarks at either stem or stern. When loading or discharging, the vessels were connected with the rails on a jetty erected for the purpose at the south-east corner of the harbour, and the waggons were run on board or drawn ashore by means of a wire rope and stationary engine. This system of ferrying trains of loaded waggons across the river has now been abandoned. The jetty has been removed, and its place is marked by an unsightly gap. For some time past the trade of the port has been on the increase, and the quayage accommodation is at times inadequate; while the erection of a goods shed is almost an absolute necessity.
A considerable number of the population are engaged in seafaring pursuits. The youth take to the water like ducks, and large numbers of the natives of Tayport have turned out first-class sailors, while most of them have risen to good positions both in the Royal and mercantile navies. Fishing is carried on to some extent, and mussel dredging is actively prosecuted, a large number of men and boys, and a fleet of over 40 boats, being employed in this branch of marine industry. At one time there was a small shipbuilding yard here, but it has long been silent and deserted, that branch of trade having centred itself in the large seaports of the kingdom. Jute, however, has found its way across from Dundee, and jute spinning and weaving now form the staple industry of the place - the works of the Tayport Spinning Company employing upwards of 300 hands; that of Mr. Young employing over 70; and Messrs. Scott & Fyfe, upwards of 80. There is also a bobbin factory, employing about 40 hands, conducted by Mr. James Stiven; a small foundry, conducted by the Messrs. Ferguson; a large steam sawmill, conducted by Messrs. Donaldson & Sons; and an engineering and machine establishment, conducted by Mr. Scott, which has lately been largely extended. The factories and public works are built on the low-lying ground which stretches from the harbour to the mouth of the Tay. Not many years ago that extensive flat, now the seat of busy industry, was a marshy swamp.
The social institutions of the place are numerous, including an Artillery Volunteer Corps, a Curling Club, a flourishing Horticultural Society, and Forester and Good Templar Lodges, the latter order possessing a spacious hall, which is often used for public meetings and entertainments. A branch of the North of Scotland Bank has, since the failure of the City of Glasgow Bank, been established in the town. Before the passing of the Education Act there were two schools - the parish and the subscription schools. These have been combined in one under the School Board. The new public school erected by the Board is a handsome building, and cost £3000. There is a private seminary for young ladies. A private girls' school, admirably conducted by Mrs. McLaren, and a Young Men's Christian Association, may also be included in the list of educational agencies. Besides the Parish Church, there is a Free Church and a U.P. Church, a Baptist meeting house, and lately the Salvation Army has been beating up for recruits, and disturbing the peaceful slumbers of the easy-going folks by parading the streets singing hymns and shouting hallelujahs at an early hour on Sunday mornings.
The inhabitants have a right of grazing and bleaching on ground lying along the coast on the east and west of the village, which is called the East and West Commonties. A portion of this ground was acquired by the Railway Companies, for which they paid a sum of money, which was lodged in bank. The interest of this money is applied to meet the expenses of the street lamps, and the fund is managed by a committee annually appointed for that purpose. Besides the Templars' Hall, the Masons' Hall, in Broad Street, which is capable of accommodating about one hundred persons, is also used for public entertainments. There are two hotels in the town, the Scotscraig and the Free Masons' Arms. In connection with the formation of the Volunteers, there is a good story told, which showed that the 'schoolmaster' had been 'abroad' in those times. When the movement reached Tayport, a public meeting was held to consider the propriety of forming a Volunteer Corps. One of the gentlemen present said to the Chairman - 'If I join the corpse would I have to go abroad if war broke out?' The beadle, who was a bit of a wit, pawkily made answer, 'Na, na, Mr. R- when ye're a corpse ye'll come my way'.
Such, briefly, is Tayport at the present day. What about its historical associations? How old is it? What was its origin? and, what great events have transpired around it in bygone ages? These are questions which the antiquarian and the student of history will naturally ask, but he will find little on record to gratify his curiosity. It is a place of great antiquity, and owed its origin as a community to the Ferry, which is believed to be one of the oldest in Scotland. It was early known by the names of 'Port-on-the-Tay', 'Port-on-the-Craig', or 'Ferry-Port-on-Craig', the latter name being still applied to the parish. From a very early period in the history of Scotland a system of communication between this place and Broughty, on the north shore, was established on the Tay, and the port is sometimes termed the South Ferry, to distinguish it from Broughty on the north. Tradition says that at one time it bore the appellation of 'The Ferry of the Loaf'. The story runs that Macduff, the Thane of Fife, when flying from Macbeth's castle, came to the ferry and found that he had no money to pay the boatman, and he had to satisfy his demands by giving him a loaf which he had brought with him to sustain him on his journey.
In 1474, in the reign of James II., Parliament ordained that the fares on the passage at the 'Port-on-the-Craig' should be 'one penny for ane man, and one penny for his horse'.
A tragic incident in connection with the ferry occurred in the days of the Covenanting persecutions. On the 22nd of May, 1685, a batch of Covenanters, on their way to prison in Dunnottar Castle, under the escort of a detachment of the Fife Militia, arrived at Ferryport on their march to the north, but the tide being low, the passage of the prisoners - nearly two hundred in all - had to be deferred till the next morning.
A more degrading spectacle was never witnessed in Scotland than this procession of the victims of kingcraft and priestcraft. Old men and women, many of them barefooted and bareheaded, dragged their weary limbs along, the brutal soldiers goading them with their pikes, and insulting them with oaths and coarse jests. On the march the soldiers picked up a wandering piper and forced him into their service, and compelled him to play tunes hateful to the ears of the Covenanters to aggravate their miseries. They marched from Burntisland through Fife. One old man died at Freuchie, where they halted for the first night, and in the morning another was left behind in a dying state. At Ferryport, as at Freuchie, they were billeted upon the inhabitants, who were held responsible for their safe keeping. During the night a young man, whose father was also one of the prisoners, attempted to escape, but he was observed, and shot amongst the rocks by one of the sentries. The brutal soldiers cut off his head, and with great barbarity they conveyed it to his father, and presented him with the bloody head, mocking him with cruel and coarse jokes. Such is but one of the many instances of the cruelty and oppression enacted in those dark and bloody years.
The Solemn League and Covenant
Cost Scotland's blood - cost Scotland's tears;
But it sealed Freedom's sacred cause -
If thou'rt a slave, indulge your sneers!'
There was once a castle or tower at Tayport, but history is silent regarding its owners. It is long since it disappeared, but it was probably a sort of national fort erected for the defence of the river, as a companion and support to Broughty Castle on the opposite shore.
An antiquarian friend, well acquainted with the history of the district, informed the writer that what was called the 'Castle' was in reality a Pictish erection. Its date being pre-historic renders it the more interesting. Not only was this so-called castle the only one of its kind south of the Tay, but possibly the most perfect specimen to be found in Britain. Unfortunately this unique object of antiquarian interest was ruthlessly demolished for the mercenary purpose of supplying stones for a new building. It must ever remain a source of deep regret that such an ancient construction should have been sacrificed for such a mean and contemptible object. The erection being of that character called the 'vitrified', the spoliators made nothing of their scheme, as no stones were found in it sufficiently large to suit their purpose. Had the erection been allowed to stand, it would, in this enlightened age, have had tenfold interest, and would have been saved by Act of Parliament. It, however, will ever remain a matter of regret that Tayport has lost almost its only relic of antiquity through such despicable means. Castle Cottage is now built on the site. There is a subterranean passage to the rocks from the ruins, which has been partially explored, but, owing to the foul air, the parties had to return without completing their researches.
One of the most interesting relics of antiquity is Waterloo House, the residence of Miss Rattray, which is situated at the west of the town, the building yard forming part of the property. This property has been held by Miss Rattray's ancestors for upwards of two hundred years. It was originally granted to them by James I. of England and VI. of Scotland on condition that a certain number of vassals were sent to keep watch and ward in the Castle of St. Andrews. One of the Rattray family, we believe, granted the ground which is now occupied by the church and churchyard. Waterloo House is a modern structure, erected in 1815, and so named in commemoration of the victory over the French, and the downfall of Napoleon. It is two storeys in height, and very plain. The Cross of Tayport stood in Tay Street, and the old cross has now been built into the front of a house lately erected in Tay Street.
The Parish Church is situated on the eastern face of the hill, in the centre of the old burying ground, from which a fine view of the mouth of the Tay and the German Ocean can be obtained. The church is a modern building, having been erected about the beginning of the present century, on the site of a more primeval structure which was covered by a straw-thatched roof. With the exception of a short, square tower on the north side, there is nothing remarkable about the architecture of the building, either externally or internally. It is simply a square, plain house, tolerably commodious inside, and it has lately undergone some much-needed repairs. In the vestry there is a massive arm chair, on which there is a silver plate, with an inscription setting forth that it was presented, in 1864, to the Parish Church of Ferryport by the late Dr. Low, a medical practitioner in the town. Underneath the body of the church is the family vault of the proprietors of Scotscraig, and the family pew is in the front of the gallery. It is seated with old-fashioned chairs, in the style of the last century.
In former times, it was not unusual to see old women of the humbler classes sitting close to the pulpit, either on the steps or on creepie stools provided by themselves. About thirty years ago, a half-witted body, named Maggie Garrie, used to sit like another Jenny Geddes on a creepie stool at the foot of the pulpit in Tayport parish kirk. Maggie was a well-known character. She attended the kirk regularly, and was very zealous in her observance of the demeanour of the congregation during the service. On one occasion she observed a tiller of the ground with his head on the book-board, fast asleep. She cried out in a solemn, warning voice, 'Awake, thou sleeper, there's no sleeping in hell'. The poor over-worked ploughman, however, slept on, when Maggie, losing all patience, seized her Bible and threw it at his head, crying, 'If you will not hear the word o' God, I'll mak' you find it'. Maggie had perhaps more wisdom than her neighbours gave her credit for. Passing along the street one day she overheard a compassionate sister calling her a 'puir creature'. Maggie turned round on the instant and replied sharply, 'There's nane puir but them that God hates'.
Looking around the churchyard, we found many curious tombstones. Several were nearly two hundred years old, while one or two dated from the beginning of the last century. In art and literature alike, these old stones were rude and primitive. Carvings of skulls and crossbones were not so frequent as we have seen in other graveyards. It would seem that the former inhabitants of Tayport had been a practical people, for they had chosen to adorn the tombstones of their departed friends with sculptured emblems of the crafts and professions they followed in their lifetime. Some of the inscriptions were very quaint. Here is a literal copy of one which, in view of the divorce cases that are continually coming before our Law Courts, is very suggestive of the haven of domestic bliss enjoyed by our forefathers two hundred years ago-
'Heare lyis ane godly honest man, callit Thomas Imrie, svmtym in Scotscraig, who lived pacible in the holy band of matrimonie with his wife, callit Margret Fender, yea space of 45 zeirs, and in their lyftym having begotten betwixt them 14 children. He deceaset the 15 of April, 1642, being of age 75 zeirs'. The rest of the inscription records the decease of said Margaret Fender, 'his spouse'; and also that of John Imrie, who died in 1716, at the good old age of eighty-two years; but some of this portion is not so legible as the other. The John Imrie was probably a son of the worthy couple, and, as the tombstone is dated 1716, it had evidently been erected after his death.
A little to the west of this stone are two very old sculptured slabs, the dates of which were either obliterated or illegible. The most entire of the two is firmly embedded in the ground, while the other lies loose on the surface. They are carved in bas-relief, with an armorial shield in the centre, on which is shown a lion rampant, surrounded with stars and harps. The shield, or coat of arms, is surmounted with skull and crossbones, having the initials 'J.B.' on each side, and underneath are the letters 'A.M.'
In the course of further researches amongst these memorials of the past, we discovered many curious inscriptions, but space will only permit us to mention other two, in which the mourners had called in the aid of the Muses to give expression to their grief. Mrs. Agnes Swenton, mourning the loss of her husband, William Dow, merchant in Ferryport, thus causes her departed 'lord' to express his dying declaration in the following rhymes:-
See mortals all I bid adieu
To earthly things, so soon must you
To all below must bid farewell,
And in the silent grave to dwell
In sweet repose now here I sleep,
Waiting the call my Christ to meet;
The grave my body must restore,
Then shall arise to die no more.
Frail mortal man, this life is short
Remember that soon die you must; Prepare for death, no more delay,
For days and years fly swift away.
Another stone, erected to the memory of a young man, has the following consolatory lines:-
To parents dear, weep not for me,
I was resigned to die;
Keep a loose hold of all on earth,
Be as resigned as I.
Matured for Heaven, he took the shortest road.
Leapt o'er old age, and shunn'd a dull abode.
A small portion of the graveyard on the north side of the church is set apart for the burial of strangers. These are by no means few, as the hungry sea now and then disgorges some of its prey, and casts them on the shore to find a burial place. The Tay is rather dangerous to navigators, and many a good ship has been wrecked on its treacherous sandbanks. It not unfrequently happens that the parish of Tayport, which lies nearest to the mouth of Tay, gets some of these unfortunates to bury in the 'Strangers' Ground'. One of the most disastrous calamities which has occurred at the mouth of the Tay in recent times was the wreck of the Dalhousie.
It was on the night of Friday, 25th November, 1864, that the s.s. Dalhousie foundered on the banks of Tay, and every soul on board perished. The Dalhousie was a first-class vessel, and was engaged in trading between Dundee and Newcastle, carrying general cargo and passengers. She was commanded by Capt. Henry K. Glenny, an officer of great experience and skill, and was manned by a crew of thirteen, all told, and had fifteen passengers on board. She sailed from Newcastle on the forenoon of Friday, 25th November, on her return passage to Dundee, where she was expected to arrive early on the following morning. On the passage she encountered heavy weather, and about midnight, after she had entered the Firth of Tay, she was overwhelmed with the terrible seas raging on the coast, and sunk with all on board on the South Cruvie Bank. No human eye saw the gallant vessel sink beneath the waves, and the cause of the disaster could only be conjectured. It was supposed that a heavy sea had swept across her decks and extinguished her fires, and that the captain had set the fore and main sails to endeavour to run the vessel ashore, when another tremendous sea swept over her and sunk her almost instantaneously. The first intimation of the disaster was brought to Dundee by Captain Rattray of the steamship London. While entering the river that night, Captain Rattray's attention was attracted by a rocket, followed by blue lights, which appeared to have been shewn as signals of distress by some vessel on Abertay Sands. The heavy sea running, and the danger to which his own vessel was exposed, prevented him from attempting to render any assistance to the distressed vessel. Immediately on reaching the harbour, Captain Rattray informed the Harbourmaster, Captain Jack, who without delay informed Captains Soutar and Edwards, of the steam tugs Samson and Hercules that a vessel had been wrecked on the Abertay Sands. Both vessels got up steam with the utmost despatch. The Hercules left the Harbour first, and calling at Broughty Ferry, found a number of fishermen on the beach, and a number of the brave fellows volunteered to man the Mary Hartley lifeboat to assist in rescuing the crew of the ill-fated vessel. The Hercules with the lifeboat in tow, was joined by the Samson and both vessels proceeded down the river as far as No. 2 Buoy, but the sea being so heavy, it was considered advisable not to proceed farther, as no sign could be seen of any vessel on the banks.
On Saturday forenoon, the fears that the Dalhousie had gone down in the gale of the previous night were fully realised, and the terrible nature of the catastrophe sent a thrill to every heart. In the morning of that day, Mr. Turnbull of Tayport rode over to the farm of Kinshaldy on business, and on his return by the coast on horseback, he was informed that a boat and two dead bodies had been washed ashore. Mr. Turnbull at once proceeded to the spot, and saw a ship's boat lying in the shallow water, and though the craft was considerably damaged, the name Henry K. Glenny was still legible on the stern. The two bodies were found in the same locality, and were identified as those of Captain Glenny and the boatswain of the Dalhousie. The corpses of the unfortunate men were conveyed in a cart to Tayport, the first fruits of the harvest of death that was for weeks afterwards gathered on the beach between the Tay and St. Andrews.
These were harrowing times for the inhabitants of Tayport. Day after day the dead bodies of the victims were washed ashore all along the beach, and were brought to Tayport, where they were shrouded and coffined. Heartrending scenes were witnessed as the friends of the deceased gathered in the dead house in the churchyard to identify the bodies. One poor Irishman, named Fermoy, whose friends were at too great distance to claim his corpse, was buried in the 'Strangers' Ground' in the Tayport Churchyard. His was a sad story. He left a wife and family in Ireland and came to England in search of employment, and not being successful, he took a passage in the Dalhousie expecting to find work in Dundee. Alas, he found a watery grave on the treacherous banks of the Tay.
When the weather moderated an examination of the wreck was made by the authorities and officials of the Company, when it was found that the ill-fated vessel had sunk without sustaining any material damage. Her masts were partly above water, and her hull was submerged in comparatively shallow water, and was resting on an even keel. There being no immediate prospect of the wreck breaking up, and as many of the bodies of the unfortunate passengers were believed to be entombed in the cabins, it was resolved to employ a diver to descend to the sunken wreck to make an effort to recover the bodies. Accordingly the services of Mr. David Watson of Tayport, an experienced diver in the employ of the North British Railway Co., were secured for this purpose. When the weather permitted, Mr. Watson was conveyed to the wreck by the Rob Roy steam tug, and, after two days' laborious and hazardous work, in which he explored the deck and cabins of the sunken vessel, he succeeded in recovering the bodies of two ladies and several children whom he found in the main cabin. One of the unfortunate lady passengers was Mrs. Copperthwaite, wife of the owner of the Rob Roy steam tug, who resided in Tayport The remains of Mrs. Copperthwaite and that of her son, a boy of about four or five years of age, who was with his mother, were interred in the churchyard of Tayport, but the others were claimed by their friends and removed to other places for burial. The total number lost on board the Dalhousie was thirty-four, including crew and passengers. Nearly a quarter of a century has passed and gone since then, but the event will long be remembered as one of the direst calamities in the annals of Tayport.
About forty years ago a very disgraceful scene was enacted in the neighbourhood of Tayport on the occasion of the wreck of a ship laden with wine. The vessel got aground on the banks on a Friday night, and on the following Sunday she began to break up, and her cargo to drift ashore. The news that casks of wine were lying strewed along the beach spread through the village, and the people, instead of going to church, hurried off to the scene of the wreck, some in boats and others on foot, all eager to secure a share of the booty. The story goes that many of the 'wreckers' got beastly drunk on the wine, and some of them quarrelled and fought over it. One old woman, overcome with her potations, lay down on the sand and fell asleep. By and by the tide rose, and the water began to play around her mouth. The wretched inebriate, in a semi-conscious state, imagining that some of her companions were offering her more drink, cried out in a half inarticulate voice, 'No more, I thank ye; no more, I thank ye'. Another of the topers had come on horseback, and having drunk his fill, he mounted his horse and started for home. He had not gone far, however, before he slipped off the horse's back, and the animal relieved found its way home by itself Some time later the jolly farmer was discovered sitting astride the saddle on the ground, and shouting lustily, 'Gee up, min; gee up'. A local poet described the ludicrous incidents connected with this event in a ballad. The following fragment, which was recited to the author by an old lady in the town, is all that we have been able to secure of it:-
(Air- 'Whistle o'er the lave o't')
On Friday night, when it was late,
A stately vessel lost her gate.
And on the Banks her ribs did beat
Till she lost all her wine kegs.
The boats put out from many a place.
And then commenced the gallant chase;
With vigour they their nerves did brace
To tow ashore the wine kegs.
On 'Lucky' there was wine for nought;
They say there was a battle fought -
They put the wounded in a boat -
Fra' the battle o' the wine kegs.
The church bells rang, but few did meet,
And there was many an empty seat;
The people ran with nimble feet
In hurry for the wine kegs.
The parish pastor now, you see.
Had left his flock to roam a wee.
To cheer the saints aboot Dundee,
Ne'er dreamin' o' the wine kegs!
Previous Introduction I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII Tayport & Scotscraig Scotscraig (continued) Kilmany Balmerino Leuchars Addenda Name Index Next
Return to: Library Contents