Bonnie Scotland and what we owe her

by William Elliot Griffis

Out at sea we caught a glimpse of the Bell Rock Light House, which rises one hundred and twelve feet above water level. It is often literally buried in foam and spray to the very top, even during ground swells, when there is no wind. Sometimes the pressure of the waves is equivalent to nearly three tons to the square foot. In one instance, at a height of eighty-six feet, an iron ladder was wrenched from its fastenings and washed round to the other side. At times, stones, more than two tons in weight, have been cast up from the deeper water upon the reef.

Aberdeen is popularly called the “Granite City,” because many of its dwellings and public buildings are built from the native rock. Yet for the vision and fulfilment, one must see the place, not only in the purple light of the setting sun and in the ordinary hours of the day, but also after a heavy rain, which not only has washed the air, but has cleansed the house-fronts. Then Aberdeen is, indeed, the “Silver City by the Sea.” One may see how well the name is bestowed, for then the stately public structures and private dwellings gleam pure and white under the brilliant sunshine.

Despite the heavy annual rainfall, the Granite City is not only the most prosperous, but one of the healthiest in Scotland. For three hundred years its delvers have been quarrying the durable gray granite, which, when cut and polished, is, to the extent of a quarter of a million tons, exported to all parts of the world. Nearly a hundred firms are engaged in the industry. The process of putting a lustre upon this very hard stone, though known to the Egyptians, seems to have been lost for thousands of years. When recovered in Aberdeen, about 1818, it became the chief source of the town’s prosperity. Then Scotland’s rocky base was transmuted into new values, as of gold mines, which the Aberdeenians have found in both sea and land, for Aberdeen’s greatest source of wealth is in her sea power.

Twenty-five millions of dollars worth of food are extracted annually through the fisheries in the deeper waters, which have been improved, first by the method of beam trawling, begun in 1882, and then by the steam line fishing in 1889. Trains loaded with nourishment from the great deep are despatched to London daily, and the fish market is a lively place.

INTERIOR OF COTTAGE, NORTHEAST COAST

How full the North Sea is of these trawlers those know who have seen them and kept pace with the efforts of philanthropists to minister to the needs of the men on board the ships. In recent years we have learned, moreover, how soon, in time of war, these toilers of the deep are called upon to show their courage as well as their industry, and have thus realized the danger ever surrounding these modest heroes. The Russian Baltic fleet, in 1904, which was full of officers nervous about the existence of Admiral Togo’s torpedo boats,—supposed to be alert and active, seven thousand miles away from home,—fired into the Scotch trawlers and shed blood. How happy we were to see our British brethren keep cool! Instead of rushing immediately into war, like barbarians and savages, John Bull and the Muscovite came to an amicable understanding. In the world-war of 1914–16, the trawlers have not only caught fish, but in their new capacity, as mine-sweepers, have kept the North Sea measurably free from “the hell hounds of the deep,” besides themselves suffering awful devastation of life and property from hostile aeroplanes and submarines.

An amusing glimpse into the life of the town in mediæval days, when its people lived in that other world of thought, which in northern Europe has utterly passed away, is given in the public records. For example, as showing the status of the crafts and guilds, to which the labor unions of Great Britain have succeeded, the Aberdeen Council register has the following:—

“It was found by the old lovable custom and rite of the burgh, that in the honor of God and the Blessed Virgin Mary, the craftsmen of the same, in their best array kept and adorned the Procession from Candlemas yearly.”

The ordinance declares also that “they shall in order to the offering in the Play [miracle or pageant] pass two and two, together, socially: first the fleshers, barbers, bakers, shoemakers, skinners, coopers, wrights, hatmakers and bonnet makers together; then the fullers, dyers, weavers, tailors, goldsmiths, blacksmiths, and hammer men; and the craftsmen shall furnish the pageants; the shoemakers, the messenger; the weavers and fillers, Simeon; the smiths and goldsmiths, the three kings of Cologne; the dyers, the Emperor; the masons, the three Knights; the tailors, Our Lady, St. Bride, and St. Helen; and the skinners, the two Bishops; the two of each craft to pass with the pageant that they furnish, to keep their gear.” Each craft, by long custom, became identified with certain characters in the procession. Eleven shillings was the fine against those who failed to do their part.