Much light is thrown on the character of the age by the magistrates ordering ‘every booth-halder [shopkeeper] to have in readiness within the booth ane halbert, jack, and steel bonnet, for eschewing of sic inconveniences as may happen, conform to the auld statute made thereanent.’
The streets of the town appear to have been kept much in the same state in which we now find those of neglected country villages, yet not without efforts towards a better order of things. The ordinances for good order may be said to prove the disorder. It is statute (1574) ‘that there be nae middings laid upon the fore-gate [front street], nor yet in the Green, and that nae fleshers toom their uschawis upon the fore-gate, and that nae stanes or timber lie on the gate langer nor year and day.’ In 1577, this statute is renewed in nearly the same words, shewing that it was but imperfectly obeyed; and next year there is a simple order ‘that the haill middings be removed off the Hie Gait, and that nane scrape on the Hie Gait.’
1573-81.
The town, according to a common custom, had its ‘minstrels,’ by which is inferred simply musicians—probably a couple of bagpipers. In 1579, there is an entry of ten shillings ‘to the minstrels, for their expenses to Hamilton siege.’ This was a siege in which popular affections would probably be engaged at Glasgow, as its object was to destroy the last vestige of the queen’s interest in Scotland. At the Whitsunday court 1574, the minstrels are continued until ‘the Summerhill,’ by which was meant a court annually held at a place so called, when the marches of the town’s property were subjected to review. There, accordingly, on Sunday the 20th June, Archibald Bordland and Robert Duncan are ‘admittit to be menstrals to the town for this instant year, and to have frae ilk freeman allenarly, but meat, twa shillings money at the least, with mair at the giver’s pleasure.’
In the treasurer’s accounts, we are struck by the many considerable presents, chiefly of wine, given by the town to noblemen possessing influence over its fortunes. We find, amongst frequent propines of wine to the Earl of Argyle, as much as seventeen gallons given at once. Two hogsheads are given to Lord Boyd, six quarts to the lord provost, two quarts to the parson of Glasgow, and so forth. At the town’s banquets, aquavitæ figures on several occasions, a quart being charged twenty-four shillings.
Several allusions are made in these records to the ‘knocks’—that is, clocks—set up for the public conveniency. An old one is repaired, and James Scott gets a sum ‘for labour done by him in colouring of the knock, moon, and horologe, and other common work of the town.’ References are made to several trades not known in our age by the same names, as a lorimer, the maker of the ironwork in horse-furniture; a snap-maker, by which is to be understood a maker of firelocks, then called snap-hances; a ladleman; a tabroner, meaning a drummer; &c. In 1577, the magistrates grant a pension of ten marks to Alexander Hay, chirurgeon, to encourage him to remain in Glasgow, ‘in readiness for serving of the town by his craft and art.’ This gentleman would bleed the citizens in exigencies of their health, and shave them daily.
1573-81.
The editor of these records remarks on the treasurer’s accounts, that the revenue is fully stated, and the whole expenditure minutely detailed. ‘It is true,’ he says, ‘the magistrates and “divers honest men” occasionally treat themselves to a dejeune; but this is after the completion of some public business, tending to the honour and profit of the commonweal. Indeed, the class of disbursements which, strictly speaking, are the least legal, the most rigid corrector of abuses could not well object to. We allude to the numerous benevolences bestowed upon poor scholars to buy them a suit of clothes, or books, to enable them to prosecute their studies; the sums voted to shipwrecked mariners, to ruined merchants who had lost their horses by some untoward accident, or to the widows and children of those burgesses whom unforeseen difficulties had plunged into absolute want. Not a little of the public funds is sometimes devoted to ransom unfortunate burgesses from captivity among the Turks, while considerable sums are expended in providing medical aid for those afflicted with physical infirmities, or who have met with severe bodily injuries.... Much curious matter may be elicited regarding the sports and pastimes of the people. The diverse disbursements for foot-balls are not unworthy of notice. We also meet with payments made to a piper called Ryall Dayis, and to “a fule with a treen sword,” as well as to certain young men of the town, for their playing—probably bearing a part in some mask or public pageant. The care bestowed on the decorement of the town’s minstrels is evinced in the entry of the purchase of blue cloth to make two coats for them, with as much “cramosie” as would serve for containing the town’s arms thereon. Nevertheless, though this care was shewn for the recognised minstrels of the burgh, the profession had thus early fallen into disrepute; for in the ordinance anent the pest [in 1574], “pipers, fiddlers, and minstrels,” are unceremoniously classed together as vagabonds, and threatened with severe penalties, should they venture into the city in contravention of the act.’
In those days, the citizens of Glasgow kept each his cow, which was fed, under the care of a town’s herdsman, in a common beyond the walls, as is the case with small burghs like Lauder and Peebles at the present day. In March 1589, John Templeton and John Hair were appointed herds for the year to come, John Templeton for ‘the nolt and guids aboon the Cross,’ and John Hair for ‘the nolt and guids beneath the Cross and the rest of the nether parts of the town.’