Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History! I'm your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we’re stepping back to December 19, 1910, a day that marked a significant milestone in Scottish cultural history—the grand opening of the Alhambra Theatre in Glasgow. Known as the "House of Varieties," this magnificent venue became one of Scotland's most beloved theaters, shaping the city’s entertainment landscape for decades.

The Alhambra Theatre was situated on Waterloo Street in Glasgow, a city already bustling with artistic and industrial vigor. Designed by the renowned theater architect Sir John James Burnet, the Alhambra was built with a vision to rival the grand music halls of London. It combined Edwardian elegance with cutting-edge technology, boasting a seating capacity of over 2,500, which made it one of the largest and most luxurious theaters in Scotland at the time.

The theater’s opulent interior was a spectacle in itself, with elaborate plasterwork, gilded decorations, and a majestic proscenium arch framing the stage. The name "Alhambra" was inspired by the Moorish palace in Granada, Spain, evoking an exotic sense of grandeur and mystique.

From its inception, the Alhambra Theatre became a cornerstone of Glasgow's entertainment scene. Its opening night featured a variety of performances, including music, comedy, and dramatic sketches—a hallmark of the variety theater tradition. Over the years, it hosted an array of acts, from local talents to international stars. Vaudeville, operas, and early cinematic performances found a home here, drawing audiences from across the region.

The Alhambra's stage was graced by luminaries such as Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy, and the famous Scottish entertainer Sir Harry Lauder. Its programming reflected the eclectic tastes of the time, ensuring there was something for everyone—from light-hearted musicals to high drama and rousing concerts.

By the mid-20th century, the Alhambra evolved into a premier venue for large-scale musical productions, particularly from London's West End. Productions like My Fair Lady, South Pacific, and West Side Story dazzled Glasgow audiences. The theater's excellent acoustics and spacious stage made it ideal for such performances, solidifying its reputation as Scotland’s answer to Broadway.

The Alhambra also became a beloved spot for pantomimes, a Christmas tradition in Scotland. Generations of Glaswegians fondly recall attending festive shows filled with humor, music, and a touch of magic.

Despite its success, the Alhambra faced challenges in the later half of the 20th century. The rise of television and changing entertainment habits began to draw audiences away from live theater. By the 1960s, competition from modern cinemas and other entertainment options became fierce.

In 1969, after nearly six decades of entertaining the people of Glasgow, the Alhambra Theatre closed its doors for the final time. Its last performance was a concert by the legendary Scottish comedian Jimmy Logan. The building was eventually demolished, and today, an office block occupies the site where this iconic theater once stood.

Though the Alhambra Theatre no longer exists, its legacy lives on in the memories of those who experienced its magic. It was more than just a theater—it was a cultural landmark that brought joy, inspiration, and a sense of community to countless Scots. The spirit of the Alhambra continues to influence Glasgow’s vibrant performing arts scene, from the King’s Theatre to the modern Glasgow Royal Concert Hall.

As we reflect on the events of December 19, 1910, we celebrate the enduring power of the arts to bring people together and enrich our lives. The Alhambra Theatre may be gone, but its story remains a testament to Glasgow’s rich cultural heritage.

Thank you for joining us today on This Day in Scottish History. Tune in tomorrow for another journey through Scotland’s fascinating past. Until then, I’m Colin MacDonald—Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to “This Day in Scottish History.” I’m your host, Colin MacDonald, and today we revisit a tragic event that shook the island communities of Scotland. On December 18th, 1863, a devastating storm, later remembered as “The Day of the Great Drowning,” claimed the lives of 31 men—the entire crews of five fishing boats from Ness, a community on the northern tip of the Isle of Lewis.

The sea has always been both a provider and a punisher in the rugged and remote Hebrides. Fishing was—and remains—a vital part of life on Lewis. The men of Ness were skilled seafarers, braving the Atlantic Ocean daily to feed their families and sustain their communities. Yet the unpredictable power of the sea, especially in winter, has long loomed as a constant threat. On this fateful December day, that threat materialized with devastating consequences.

The fishermen set out as they did on many other days, launching their open decked fishing boats, locally known as sgoths, into the unforgiving waters of the Minch, the stretch of sea between the Outer Hebrides and the Scottish mainland. Winter fishing in the North Atlantic was perilous, but the men of Ness were no strangers to harsh conditions. Little did they know that this day would bring one of the fiercest storms their community had ever seen.

Eyewitness accounts describe how the weather turned suddenly and ferociously. Gale-force winds swept across the Minch, whipping up towering waves. The storm was unrelenting, battering the small wooden boats and offering the men no chance of escape. Some of the boats were believed to have been capsized by the violent waves, while others may have been swamped and sunk outright. None of the 31 fishermen made it back home.

For the small, tight-knit community of Ness, the loss was catastrophic. At the time, Ness was a collection of small villages where everyone was connected—by blood, by friendship, or by shared labor. 31 men from five boats were gone in a single day, leaving behind grieving families, widowed wives, and orphaned children. In a community where every able-bodied man was crucial to survival, the impact was not just emotional but also economic.

To put this into perspective, in the mid-19th century, life on Lewis was already incredibly harsh. The people of Ness lived off fishing, crofting, and subsistence farming, their lives shaped by the unforgiving environment of the Hebrides. Losing so many men in one blow plunged families into hardship, and the tragedy rippled through the community for generations.

The event was so profound that it was remembered as “Là na Mora Mòire”—Gaelic for “The Day of the Great Drowning”. In a culture that preserved its history through song and storytelling, the sorrow of this day became woven into the collective memory of the Isle of Lewis.

The Day of the Great Drowning serves as a stark reminder of the dangers faced by those who earn their livelihoods from the sea. While modern fishing has advanced significantly with larger vessels, navigational aids, and weather forecasting, the North Atlantic remains as unpredictable as ever.

Today, the tragedy is still commemorated on Lewis, particularly in Ness, where descendants of the lost fishermen continue to live. Memorials and stories honor the men who set out that day in 1863 and never returned. Their courage and sacrifice are remembered as part of the island’s heritage—symbols of a community’s deep and enduring connection to the sea.

What is perhaps most striking about this story is the resilience of the people of Ness. Despite the devastation of “The Day of the Great Drowning,” life continued. Families grieved, rebuilt, and carried on, as they always had, enduring in a landscape where survival demanded strength, unity, and faith.

As we reflect on the events of December 18th, 1863, let us remember those 31 men and their families. Their story is not just one of loss but also of a people’s unyielding spirit—a spirit forged on the shores of one of Scotland’s most rugged and beautiful places.

Thank you for joining me on this poignant journey through history. Please tune in tomorrow for another episode of “This Day in Scottish History.” Until then, I’m Colin MacDonald, and as we say here in Scotland, Haste Ye Back.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I'm your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we dive into the icy waters of Orkney, where an extraordinary archaeological discovery was announced on December 17, 2009. On this day, researchers revealed the existence of man-made structures on the seabed off the tiny island of Damsay, shedding light on Scotland's ancient maritime history.

Damsay is a small, uninhabited island in the Bay of Firth, nestled among Orkney’s stunning archipelago. Today, it’s a place of tranquility, but centuries ago, it was a bustling hub of activity, rich in lore and legend. Historically, Damsay is associated with tales of Norse settlers and is even linked to medieval bishops who used the island as a retreat. Beneath its serene waters, however, lay secrets far older than these stories.

In 2009, a team of marine archaeologists and divers, led by experts from Orkney College’s Archaeology Institute, began investigating unusual underwater formations spotted near Damsay. Using sonar technology, they identified structures that were clearly not natural. Upon closer examination, it became evident that these features were man-made, hinting at human activity in a period when the sea levels were much lower.

The structures included stone-built walls and possible platforms or pavements. These features suggested the remnants of an ancient settlement or perhaps a ceremonial site, now submerged due to the rising seas that followed the last Ice Age. Initial studies estimated the site to be several thousand years old, potentially dating back to the Neolithic period—a time when Orkney was already a significant center of prehistoric culture.

Orkney is no stranger to archaeological fame. The archipelago is home to some of the world’s most remarkable Neolithic sites, including the Ring of Brodgar, the Standing Stones of Stenness, and the village of Skara Brae. These sites, collectively part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site known as the “Heart of Neolithic Orkney,” illustrate the area’s importance as a cultural and ritual center over 5,000 years ago.

The discovery near Damsay added a new dimension to this narrative. While much of Orkney’s prehistoric legacy lies above ground, the submerged site suggested that ancient Orcadians were not only expert builders but also adept at adapting to a dynamic environment where the coastline was constantly changing.

The exact purpose of the underwater structures remains a subject of speculation. Some researchers suggest they could be the remnants of a small settlement, perhaps a fishing or trading community, while others believe the site may have had a ritual significance. The proximity of Damsay to other prominent sites in Orkney suggests that it could have been part of a broader cultural network, connecting land, sea, and spirituality.

The discovery also raised intriguing questions about how ancient people interacted with the sea. The structures’ preservation beneath the waves provides a unique glimpse into how rising sea levels—an issue still relevant today—transformed the landscape and shaped human lives millennia ago.

Uncovering the secrets of the Damsay structures has not been easy. Underwater archaeology presents unique challenges: strong currents, limited visibility, and the delicate nature of submerged remains require advanced techniques and careful planning. Despite these obstacles, the discovery has inspired further exploration of Orkney’s waters, with archaeologists hoping to map more submerged sites in the region.

The announcement on December 17, 2009, reinforced Orkney’s reputation as a treasure trove of history, both on land and beneath the waves. It also highlighted the importance of preserving Scotland’s underwater heritage, which, like its more visible landmarks, holds vital clues to understanding the lives of our ancestors.

As we reflect on this remarkable find, we are reminded of the resilience and ingenuity of the people who once called these islands home. From the towering stone circles of Orkney to the hidden structures beneath the sea, their legacy continues to captivate and inspire.

Thank you for joining us on This Day in Scottish History. I’m Colin MacDonald, and I look forward to exploring more fascinating moments with you tomorrow. Until then, Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I’m your host, Colin MacDonald, and today we’re taking a look at the foundation of one of Scotland’s most important financial institutions. On this day, December 16, 1844, the Edinburgh Stock Exchange was officially established. It marked a key moment in Scotland’s economic history, tying Edinburgh even closer to the heart of international trade and finance.

By the mid-19th century, Scotland was firmly entrenched in the Industrial Revolution. Edinburgh, though often considered a city of learning and culture, had long been a significant financial center. The establishment of the Edinburgh Stock Exchange formalized the city's role in the rapidly expanding world of global finance.

The Stock Exchange emerged as a response to the growing demand for a centralized market where shares, bonds, and other securities could be traded. With Scotland's industries flourishing—from textiles and shipbuilding to coal mining and railways—there was a critical need for mechanisms to raise capital and manage investments.

Housed initially in modest quarters on George Street, the Edinburgh Stock Exchange quickly became a hub of activity. Brokers, investors, and speculators gathered to trade in the stocks of burgeoning railway companies, insurance firms, and banks that were driving Scotland’s economic engine.

The rise of the Edinburgh Stock Exchange coincided with the railway boom of the 19th century. By 1844, Scotland was in the midst of building an extensive railway network that would transform the movement of goods and people. Financing these massive infrastructure projects required the sale of shares and bonds, and the Stock Exchange provided the platform for these transactions. Railway stocks were so popular that they dominated trading activity in the early years of the Exchange. Investors were eager to buy into the promise of faster connections between Scotland's cities and towns, as well as between Scotland and England.

While London’s Stock Exchange remained the financial powerhouse of the United Kingdom, Edinburgh’s Exchange catered to Scotland’s unique economic environment. Many of the companies listed in Edinburgh were deeply rooted in the Scottish economy, including firms in agriculture, banking, and insurance. Edinburgh was already home to some of the world's oldest banks, including the Bank of Scotland, founded in 1695, and the Royal Bank of Scotland, established in 1727. The Stock Exchange complemented these institutions by creating a marketplace where these banks could issue and trade shares, further strengthening Scotland's financial sector.

The Edinburgh Stock Exchange faced its share of challenges. Economic downturns, such as the railway mania crash of the late 1840s, tested the resilience of brokers and investors alike. However, the Exchange adapted and grew, reflecting the diversification of Scotland’s economy. By the late 19th century, Edinburgh’s Exchange had become a major player in the trade of government bonds, insurance stocks, and investments in colonial ventures. Its success mirrored Scotland’s global influence during the Victorian era.

In 1964, the Edinburgh Stock Exchange merged with the Glasgow Stock Exchange, forming the Scottish Stock Exchange. This merger reflected broader trends of centralization within the financial sector but also symbolized the enduring importance of Edinburgh as a key financial hub.

Today, while the original Exchange no longer operates as an independent entity, Edinburgh remains a critical part of Scotland's financial services industry. The city is home to major investment firms, asset managers, and global banks, with roots tracing back to the 19th-century Exchange.

The establishment of the Edinburgh Stock Exchange on December 16, 1844, underscores Scotland’s long tradition of innovation and leadership in the world of finance. It laid the foundation for Edinburgh’s modern identity as one of Europe’s premier financial centers—a reputation it holds to this day.

That’s all for today’s episode of This Day in Scottish History. Thank you for joining me, Colin MacDonald, as we uncovered another fascinating chapter in Scotland’s past. Tune in tomorrow for more stories that shaped our nation. Until then, Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I'm your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we explore one of the most haunting maritime mysteries in Scotland’s history—a tale that still sends shivers down the spines of those who hear it. On December 15, 1900, the three keepers of the Flannan Isles Lighthouse disappeared without a trace.

The Flannan Isles, also known as the Seven Hunters, are a remote cluster of rocky outcrops situated in the Outer Hebrides, about 20 miles west of Lewis. Steeped in mystery and superstition, these islands had long been uninhabited, save for the occasional shepherd bringing sheep to graze. But by the turn of the 20th century, their dangerous waters necessitated the construction of a lighthouse.

Completed in 1899, the Flannan Isles Lighthouse was an engineering marvel for its time. Perched on the highest point of Eilean Mòr, the largest of the islands, it was built to guide ships safely through treacherous waters. It required a team of three keepers to man it at all times, with a fourth rotating in and out for leave. The lighthouse was a lonely posting, made even more isolating by the island's exposure to the harsh Atlantic weather.

The events of December 15, 1900, however, turned this lighthouse into the setting for one of Scotland's greatest unsolved mysteries.

Relief Keeper Joseph Moore arrived at the Flannan Isles on December 26, after nearly two weeks of storms delayed his journey. As he stepped ashore, he noticed something was off. The usual flag was not flying. No one greeted the incoming ship, and the station appeared eerily lifeless. Moore climbed the steep stairs to the lighthouse, his apprehension growing with each step.

Inside, he discovered that the three keepers—Thomas Marshall, James Ducat, and Donald McArthur—were nowhere to be found. The lighthouse was eerily tidy, but there were troubling signs. A meal lay untouched on the table, and one of the chairs was overturned. Two sets of oilskins—the waterproof gear essential for venturing outside—were missing, but the third set remained, suggesting that one of the men had left the lighthouse without proper protection.

The logbook added further intrigue. The last entry, dated December 15, described a terrible storm, despite reports of clear weather in the area at that time. Thomas Marshall wrote of "severe winds, the likes of which I have never seen before," and noted that James Ducat had been unusually quiet, while Donald McArthur—known as a tough and seasoned sailor—was reportedly weeping. The final entry simply stated, "Storm ended, sea calm. God is over all."

The official investigation concluded that the men were likely swept away by a freak wave while trying to secure equipment during the storm. The western landing, a spot where supplies were unloaded, showed signs of massive damage. Ropes and a crane used for hauling supplies had been dislodged, and iron railings were bent as if struck by an immense force.

But not everyone was convinced by the "rogue wave" explanation. The lighthouse keepers were known for their meticulous adherence to safety protocols, and it seemed unlikely they would all leave the safety of the lighthouse during rough weather. Over the years, other theories have emerged.

Some suggest madness and violence overtook the keepers, perhaps brought on by the isolation and relentless storm conditions. Another explanation hints at paranormal involvement, given the long-standing superstitions surrounding the Flannan Isles. Others venture into more modern speculation, such as alien abduction or an orchestrated escape by the men to start new lives elsewhere. None of these theories, however, have ever been proven.

The mystery of the Flannan Isles has captivated imaginations for more than a century. The story inspired the poem "Flannan Isle" by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson, which vividly recounts the eerie scene discovered by Joseph Moore. In recent years, the incident served as the basis for the 2019 film The Vanishing, starring Gerard Butler, which offers a fictionalized account of what might have happened.

The lighthouse remains automated today, its beam sweeping across the dark Atlantic as it has done for over a century. But for those who know its history, that light seems less a beacon of safety and more a reminder of the chilling events of December 1900.

Thank you for joining us on this journey into one of Scotland’s most enduring mysteries. Until next time, I’m Colin MacDonald, reminding you to keep an eye on the horizon and a light in the window. Haste ye back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I’m your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we’re stepping back to December 14, 1896, a day that marked a significant milestone in Scottish engineering and urban transport. On this day, the Glasgow Subway, the third oldest metro system in the world, officially began operations. Known today as the "Clockwork Orange," the Glasgow Subway has been a vital part of the city’s history, shaping its urban landscape and becoming a cultural icon in its own right.

In the late 19th century, Glasgow was a bustling industrial city. Its growing population, fueled by industrialization and immigration, required a more efficient means of transportation. The streets were often congested with horse-drawn carriages and early trams, leading city planners to look underground for a solution.

Construction of the subway began in 1891, using the innovative cut-and-cover method for much of its route. This method involved digging a trench, laying the tracks, and then covering it over. The engineers designed a simple circular route to connect key parts of the city, which remains the foundation of the system to this day. At its inception, the Glasgow Subway spanned just 6.5 miles with 15 stations, making it compact but remarkably efficient.

One of the Subway’s most intriguing features was its use of cable-haul technology. Unlike today’s electric trains, the original trains were moved by a continuous cable loop powered by stationary steam engines. The system was groundbreaking, yet it came with its own set of challenges, including frequent wear and tear on the cables.

The Subway’s narrow tunnels, measuring just 11 feet wide, were another distinctive feature. These were among the smallest in the world, designed to fit the compact, narrow-gauge trains that continue to define the system’s unique character.

December 14, 1896, saw the grand opening of the Glasgow Subway. The system immediately became a point of pride for the city, offering a reliable and modern transportation option for workers and residents. However, the first day wasn’t without its hitches. There were technical issues, and many Glaswegians were hesitant to ride the newfangled underground trains. Still, the Subway quickly gained popularity, carrying over 9 million passengers in its first year alone.

The Subway underwent a major transformation in 1935 when the cable-haul system was replaced with electric traction, aligning it with modern metro systems. This change improved reliability and efficiency, allowing the Subway to handle increasing passenger demand.

Further modernization came in the 1970s with a comprehensive refurbishment. The system was temporarily closed for nearly three years to upgrade stations, rolling stock, and signaling. It reopened in 1980 with its now-famous orange livery, earning it the nickname “Clockwork Orange.”

The Glasgow Subway is more than just a means of transport; it’s a symbol of the city’s industrial spirit and resilience. Over the years, it has inspired countless works of art, music, and even comedy sketches, becoming a beloved institution for Glaswegians.

It remains the only metro system in Scotland and continues to serve as a critical part of Glasgow’s transport network. Its compact, circular design still links key areas such as the city center, West End, and South Side, making it a lifeline for commuters and visitors alike.

As we reflect on the events of December 14, 1896, we celebrate the Glasgow Subway’s legacy as a pioneering achievement in public transport. From its humble beginnings as a cable-hauled metro to its modern incarnation as an efficient, electrified system, the Subway stands as a testament to Glasgow’s ingenuity and adaptability.

Thank you for joining us on this journey through history. Tune in tomorrow for another enlightening episode of This Day in Scottish History. I’m Colin MacDonald. Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I’m your host, Colin MacDonald, and today, December 13, we set sail on the remarkable story of Alexander Selkirk, the Scottish sailor whose extraordinary life inspired one of literature’s most enduring characters, Robinson Crusoe. On this day in 1721, Selkirk died off the coast of West Africa, concluding a life marked by adventure, survival, and a legendary tale of isolation.

Born in 1676 in the small fishing village of Lower Largo, Fife, Selkirk was the son of a shoemaker. From an early age, he displayed a rebellious spirit and a knack for trouble. After several run-ins with church authorities, he found his way to the sea, joining buccaneering voyages during the War of the Spanish Succession. These voyages eventually led him to the South Pacific aboard the Cinque Ports, a ship commanded by Captain Thomas Stradling.

In 1704, the Cinque Ports stopped at the uninhabited Juan Fernández Islands off the coast of Chile to resupply. Selkirk, convinced the ship was unseaworthy, demanded to be left ashore rather than risk continuing the voyage. His instincts proved correct—the ship later sank—but his decision left him stranded alone on the island of Más a Tierra. Equipped with only a few provisions, including a musket, a hatchet, a knife, and a Bible, Selkirk faced the daunting challenge of survival.

At first, his isolation filled him with despair. He scoured the shoreline for rescue and subsisted on lobsters, all the while battling loneliness. Over time, he adapted. He moved inland to escape the noisy sea lions and found an abundance of resources. Feral goats provided him with meat and milk, while wild turnips, cabbage tree leaves, and pink peppercorns supplemented his diet. He tanned goat hides for clothing and built shelters from local vegetation. To combat the nightly onslaught of rats, he domesticated wild cats, creating an unusual companionship that brought him some solace.

Selkirk’s resilience turned his ordeal into a triumph. He survived for more than four years, honing skills that made him a master of his environment. His solitude was interrupted only by brief and dangerous encounters with Spanish ships. Once, he narrowly escaped capture by hiding in a tree while sailors urinated at its base. Despite these close calls, Selkirk endured, relying on his resourcefulness and faith to sustain him.

His rescue came on February 2, 1709, when the privateering ship Duke, captained by Woodes Rogers, anchored at the island. Selkirk was overjoyed to be reunited with other humans, though his years of solitude had made him somewhat awkward in their presence. Rogers, impressed by his vitality and adaptability, referred to him as the “governor of the island.” Selkirk’s skills proved invaluable to the Duke’s crew, as he helped restore their health by hunting fresh food.

Returning to Britain, Selkirk’s story captivated the public. Accounts of his experience appeared in print, including in Rogers’ book chronicling the voyage. His tale inspired Daniel Defoe’s The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, published in 1719. While Defoe fictionalized the account and relocated the story to the Caribbean, Selkirk’s survival and ingenuity formed the backbone of Crusoe’s character.

Despite his newfound fame, Selkirk struggled to reintegrate into society. Legal disputes over his earnings as a privateer and his restless nature led him back to sea. In 1721, while serving as a lieutenant aboard HMS Weymouth on anti-piracy patrols off West Africa, Selkirk contracted yellow fever. He died on December 13, 1721, at the age of 45, and was buried at sea.

Selkirk’s legacy endures. His birthplace in Lower Largo features a statue and plaque commemorating his life, while the island where he lived has been renamed Robinson Crusoe Island in honor of his story and its literary legacy. Archaeological findings on the island, including fragments of navigational tools, further cement his place in history as a real-life castaway.

The tale of Alexander Selkirk continues to inspire. His resilience, ingenuity, and perseverance in the face of isolation remind us of the strength of the human spirit. From the rugged shores of the Juan Fernández Islands to the pages of world literature, his story remains a beacon of survival against all odds.

Thank you for joining me today on This Day in Scottish History. I’m Colin MacDonald, and I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow for another journey into Scotland’s remarkable past. Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I'm your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we turn back the clock to December 12, 1872, to a moment that forever shaped Scottish football. On this day, the Third Lanark Athletic Club, affectionately known as "Thirds" or "Third Lanark," was established as the football team of the Third Lanarkshire Rifle Volunteers.

The formation of Third Lanark A.C. was a product of the times. During the mid-19th century, football in Scotland was growing rapidly as a pastime, especially among military units and working-class communities. The Third Lanarkshire Rifle Volunteers, a Glasgow-based militia, decided to establish a football team as part of their efforts to foster camaraderie and physical fitness among their ranks. It wasn't uncommon for military-affiliated clubs to form football teams, but Third Lanark would go on to distinguish itself as a powerhouse of Scottish football.

Initially, the team adopted the name Third Lanarkshire Rifle Volunteers Football Club, a nod to its origins. In 1876, the club simplified its name to Third Lanark A.C., shedding its military ties but retaining its legacy.

Third Lanark A.C. quickly became a trailblazer in Scottish football. It was one of the founding members of the Scottish Football Association in 1873, demonstrating its commitment to formalizing the game. That same year, the club participated in the inaugural Scottish Cup, which was the first organized football tournament in the country.

Throughout its history, Third Lanark gained a reputation for innovation. In 1904, the club became the first Scottish team to tour South America, introducing the beautiful game to new audiences and enhancing its global appeal.

The club’s most successful period came during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Third Lanark won the Scottish Cup twice, in 1889 and 1905, and clinched the Scottish League title in the 1903-04 season. Known for their attacking style of play, they earned the nickname "The Hi-Hi," reportedly due to the enthusiastic chants of their supporters.

At their peak, Third Lanark was a force to be reckoned with, consistently challenging the dominance of clubs like Rangers and Celtic. They also played a crucial role in popularizing football in Glasgow, contributing to the city's rich sporting culture.

Despite their illustrious history, Third Lanark's fortunes began to wane in the mid-20th century. Financial mismanagement and dwindling attendance plagued the club. By the 1960s, the situation had grown dire. The club was relegated from the top flight in 1965, and efforts to stabilize its finances proved unsuccessful.

In 1967, after nearly a century of competition, Third Lanark A.C. was liquidated, marking a heartbreaking end for one of Scotland's oldest football clubs. Cathkin Park, their historic home ground, fell into disrepair but remains a haunting reminder of the club's storied past. Today, the terraces of Cathkin Park are preserved as a public space, attracting football enthusiasts and historians alike.

Though Third Lanark A.C. no longer competes, its legacy endures. The club is remembered not just for its sporting achievements but also for its role in shaping Scottish football. The story of Third Lanark serves as a cautionary tale about the importance of financial sustainability in sports, yet it also highlights the passion and pride that football inspires in communities.

Efforts to revive the spirit of Third Lanark continue. Modern incarnations of the club have sought to preserve its name and traditions, proving that the Hi-Hi's impact on Scottish football is far from forgotten.

As we reflect on the events of December 12, 1872, we honor the memory of a club that embodied the heart and soul of Scottish football. Third Lanark A.C. may have vanished from the professional leagues, but its spirit lives on in the terraces of Cathkin Park and in the annals of Scottish sporting history.

Thank you for joining us on this journey through history. Tune in tomorrow for another fascinating episode of This Day in Scottish History. I'm Colin MacDonald. Haste ye back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I'm your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we delve into a pivotal moment in Scotland’s journey toward political reform. On December 11, 1792, the first National Convention of the Scottish Friends of the People convened in Edinburgh. This was a radical gathering, fueled by the Enlightenment ideals of liberty and equality, with the goal of demanding parliamentary reform and extending voting rights.

To understand the significance of this event, we need to look at the context of the late 18th century. Britain, including Scotland, was a nation undergoing tremendous social and economic change. The Industrial Revolution was in full swing, urban populations were growing, and wealth was increasingly concentrated in the hands of a privileged few. Yet, political power remained in the grasp of an aristocratic elite, with parliamentary representation restricted to landowners. The vast majority of the population, including urban workers and rural laborers, had no say in how they were governed.

Inspired by the revolutionary fervor sweeping across France and the principles enshrined in the American Revolution, a movement for reform began to emerge in Britain. In Scotland, this movement coalesced around the Friends of the People, a political organization founded in 1792 by reform-minded individuals who sought to address the glaring inequities in the political system.

The first National Convention in Edinburgh was a bold and unprecedented step. It brought together delegates from across Scotland to discuss the need for universal suffrage and more equitable representation in Parliament. The language of the convention was radical for its time, openly calling for reforms that would shift power away from the elite and toward the common people. Delegates advocated for principles like annual parliaments, fairer distribution of parliamentary seats, and the abolition of property requirements for voting.

The meeting was heavily influenced by events in France, where the French Revolution had challenged the monarchy and championed the rights of ordinary citizens. This international context made the Scottish Friends of the People both hopeful and vulnerable. While their ideas resonated with many disenfranchised Scots, they also drew the attention of the British government, which viewed any reform movement as a potential threat to the established order.

The government’s response was swift and severe. Spurred by fears of revolution spreading from France to Britain, authorities cracked down on reform groups. The Friends of the People were subjected to surveillance, and many of their leaders were arrested and tried for sedition. In 1793, several prominent members, including the fiery orator Thomas Muir of Huntershill, were convicted and sentenced to transportation to Australia. These harsh punishments served as a chilling warning to others who might be tempted to challenge the status quo.

Despite the repression, the National Convention and the broader efforts of the Friends of the People left a lasting legacy. They helped to ignite a public conversation about representation and rights, laying the groundwork for the eventual reform movements of the 19th century. The Reform Acts of 1832, 1867, and beyond gradually expanded the electorate, vindicating, albeit slowly, the ideals for which the Friends of the People had fought.

The first National Convention in Edinburgh on December 11, 1792, was more than just a meeting—it was a declaration of intent from a growing segment of Scottish society that refused to accept political exclusion. Their vision of a more democratic system resonates even today as we reflect on the ongoing journey toward equality and representation.

Thank you for joining us on this journey through Scotland's rich and complex history. Be sure to tune in tomorrow for another episode of This Day in Scottish History. I'm Colin MacDonald, and as always, Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com

Welcome back to This Day in Scottish History. I'm your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we journey back to December 10, 1768, a day that marked a turning point in the history of knowledge and publishing. On this day, the first volumes of the Encyclopædia Britannica were published in Edinburgh, beginning one of the most ambitious literary projects of the Enlightenment.

The 18th century was a time of remarkable intellectual activity, particularly in Scotland. This period, known as the Scottish Enlightenment, saw an explosion of ideas across philosophy, science, and education. Edinburgh, often called the "Athens of the North," was at the heart of this movement. It was here that William Smellie, an editor and polymath, collaborated with printer Colin Macfarquhar and engraver Andrew Bell to create the Encyclopædia Britannica. Their vision was to compile all human knowledge into a single, organized reference work that would educate and enlighten.

The project was an ambitious one. Unlike earlier encyclopedias, which were often chaotic and disorganized, the Britannica was designed to present information systematically. The first edition was published in three volumes, beginning with the release of the initial installment on this day in 1768. The decision to publish in parts made it more accessible to a wider audience, allowing readers to purchase it gradually rather than all at once.

William Smellie, the editor, was a remarkable figure. Known for his wide-ranging intellect and careful research, he shaped the content with a focus on clarity and practicality. However, his editorial style wasn’t without controversy. For example, his entry on "Woman" in the first edition was notably brief and dismissive, reflecting the biases of the time. Still, the first edition was a groundbreaking achievement. With 2,391 pages and detailed illustrations by Andrew Bell, it offered readers insights into a vast array of subjects, emphasizing emerging scientific discoveries and practical knowledge.

One of the encyclopedia’s most notable innovations was its use of cross-referencing. This feature allowed readers to explore related topics seamlessly, fostering a deeper understanding of how various fields of knowledge were interconnected. This approach was revolutionary and became a hallmark of future encyclopedias.

The Britannica quickly gained acclaim, earning a reputation as a reliable and authoritative source of information. Its influence extended far beyond Scotland, reaching readers across Europe and the Americas. Over time, it expanded significantly. Subsequent editions grew larger and more comprehensive, incorporating the latest advancements in science, technology, and the arts. By the 20th century, the Encyclopædia Britannica had become a global icon of intellectual achievement.

For more than a century, the Britannica remained based in Edinburgh, cementing the city’s role as a global center of learning and publishing. Although the headquarters moved to Chicago in the early 20th century, the roots of this monumental work in the Scottish Enlightenment have never been forgotten. Its origins in Edinburgh remain a source of pride, reflecting the intellectual spirit of the time.

Even today, in an era dominated by digital information, the legacy of the Encyclopædia Britannica endures. Its commitment to accuracy, depth, and comprehensiveness set a standard for reference works and inspired countless imitators. The Britannica is more than just an encyclopedia; it is a symbol of humanity’s enduring quest for knowledge and understanding.

As we reflect on the events of December 10, 1768, we celebrate not just the publication of the Encyclopædia Britannica, but also the ideals of inquiry and innovation that defined the Scottish Enlightenment. This monumental work reminds us of the power of knowledge to illuminate and inspire.

Thank you for joining us on today’s journey through history. Tune in tomorrow for another fascinating story from This Day in Scottish History. I’m Colin MacDonald, and as always, Haste Ye Back!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com