The Caledonian Railway company opened on the 15th of February, 1848.
Railways have been in existence for well over two thousand years, thanks to the Ancient Greeks, whom we can also no doubt thank for the pastime of train-spotting, the collective noun for which is 'anorak'. The Greek ‘Diolkos’ railway was built in 600 BC and was used to convey ships across the Isthmus of Corinth. It was nearly sixteen hundred years later, before the island of Great Britain saw its first railways; tracks along which
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Charles Thomson Rees Wilson
Charles Thomson Rees Wilson, physicist and joint Nobel prize winner in 1927, with Arthur Holly Compton, was born on the 14th of February, 1869.
Physicist, Charles Thomson Rees Wilson, known to his friend and colleagues as C. T. R., won the Nobel Prize in Physics, in 1927. Wilson won the Nobel Prize “ for his method of making the paths of electrically charged particles visible by condensation of vapour,” although he shared the 1927 Prize money with Arthur Holly Compton, who had made use of Wilson's discovery to gain his share “for his discovery of the effect named after him.” Wilson wasn't left out in the naming stakes, though as he had the cloud chamber named after him. According to Ernest Rutherford, winner of the 1908 Nobel Prize for Chemistry, the Wilson Cloud Chamber was “the most original and wonderful instrument in scientific history.” Wilson's chamber remained the standard device for almost twenty years and led on to Donald A. Glaser's 1952 development of the 'bubble chamber'. These days, the cloud chamber has been replaced by instruments such as tracking chambers, sampling calorimeters, and scintillators.
The Wilson Cloud Chamber was a wonderful device that made the paths of electrically charged subatomic particles visible for the first time. Wilson's breakthrough allowed scientists to study those particles and so the cloud chamber became an absolutely indispensable aid to research. Wilson made atomic particles photographable, by condensing water droplets on the ions that were produced along the paths described by the particles. Wilson's 1911 series of photographs of electrons and individual particles, the tracks of which he described, according to 'Les Prix Nobel', as “little wisps and threads of clouds,” became famous, long before his Nobel Prize win. Wilson's remarkable visual evidence proved the existence of subatomic particles, and substantiated theories of nuclear phenomena. With the addition of a magnetic field, different particles became distinguishable by the curvature of their tracks.
The Wilson Cloud Chamber, which he had perfected by 1923, became indispensable in the study of nuclear physics and was widely used in the study of radioactivity, X-rays, cosmic rays, and other nuclear or particle phenomena. Many important achievements are credited to its use in scientific experimentation. One of those, which led to Compton's Nobel Prize, was the demonstration of the existence of recoil electrons, thus proving the 'Compton Effect', which occurs in x-ray scattering, where the momentum of the quantum of radiation is taken up by the recoil electron. Wilson's cloud chamber was also used by Anderson, which gained him the 1936 Nobel Prize for his discovery of the positron.
Not satisfied by his early achievements, in 1916, Wilson became involved in the study of thunderstorms and lightning, and he put that to good use when he devised a method of protecting British wartime barrage balloons from lightning. Later, in 1956, he published a theory of atmospheric electricity. Wilson also created a new form of electroscope, with which he was able to measure the electric field in the atmosphere. That new device of Wilson's had a sensitivity 100 times greater than anything previously available. Apart from his eponymous chamber, he also had the Wilson Condensation Cloud formations, those that occur after a nuclear detonation, named after him.
Charles Thomson Rees Wilson was born in the farmhouse of Crosshouse, by Glencorse, near Edinburgh, on the 14th of February, 1869. His father, a farmer, died when wee Charlie was only four, whereupon the family moved to Manchester. The farmer's boy was then able to go to a private school, before heading off to become a biology undergraduate at Owen's College, now part of the University of Manchester. He received his bachelor's degree in 1887 and the following year, Wilson went to Cambridge with an entrance scholarship.
At Sidney Sussex College, Wilson realised his vocation wasn't biology and medicine, but physics and chemistry; and the world of science can be thankful for that. Perhaps it can be thankful also to the influence of another Scot, Balfour Stewart, who held the Chair of Physics. Wilson gained his physics degree in 1892 and, after that, he was engaged in research at the Cavendish Laboratory, under the direction of Sir Joseph John Thomson, the British physicist to whom the electron is eternally grateful. Due to the legacy of yet another Scot, James Clerk Maxwell, Wilson was granted the eponymous Student title, which enabled him to devote three further years to research. So it was that during that time, from about 1894, Wilson did a large part of his research into ionizing particles.
The story goes that Wilson developed his hypothesis when he was climbing on Ben Nevis in 1894 and observed coronas produced by sunlight on mist. Now Ben Nevis isn't that high, so there's no overly rarefied atmosphere and we can rule out hallucinations. So it was that, as early as 1896, Wilson's primitive air expansion chamber was assembled. Using Röntgen's newly discovered X-rays to charge the subatomic particles in the air, he found that, when the moist air was then expanded and thus cooled, it became supersaturated and the moisture condensed around the charged ions to produce a vapour cloud of water droplets. A key aspect was dust free air, because every scientist up to then had thought that the water droplets formed around dust, rather than subatomic, particles.
However, his employment effectively deferred his ability to spend a great deal of time on his cloud chamber until 1910. Between 1900 and 1919, Wilson was a University Lecturer at Sidney Sussex, where he was in charge of the advanced teaching of practical physics at the Cavendish Laboratory. During that time, he was also employed for a year by the Meteorological Council to do research. In 1913, Wilson was appointed Observer in Meteorological Physics at the Solar Physics Observatory. In 1918, Wilson was appointed Reader in Electrical Meteorology and, in 1925, he was appointed Jacksonian Professor of Natural Philosophy (i.e., Physics) at Cambridge.
When he retired, in 1934, Wilson went home to Scotland and, when he was eighty, he moved to Carlops, near Edinburgh. But he hadn't really retired as it was there that he completed his theory of atmospheric electricity, submitting the manuscript to the Royal Society in August, 1956, when he was eighty-seven. Charles Thomson Rees Wilson died on the 15th of November, 1959.
Physicist, Charles Thomson Rees Wilson, known to his friend and colleagues as C. T. R., won the Nobel Prize in Physics, in 1927. Wilson won the Nobel Prize “ for his method of making the paths of electrically charged particles visible by condensation of vapour,” although he shared the 1927 Prize money with Arthur Holly Compton, who had made use of Wilson's discovery to gain his share “for his discovery of the effect named after him.” Wilson wasn't left out in the naming stakes, though as he had the cloud chamber named after him. According to Ernest Rutherford, winner of the 1908 Nobel Prize for Chemistry, the Wilson Cloud Chamber was “the most original and wonderful instrument in scientific history.” Wilson's chamber remained the standard device for almost twenty years and led on to Donald A. Glaser's 1952 development of the 'bubble chamber'. These days, the cloud chamber has been replaced by instruments such as tracking chambers, sampling calorimeters, and scintillators.
The Wilson Cloud Chamber was a wonderful device that made the paths of electrically charged subatomic particles visible for the first time. Wilson's breakthrough allowed scientists to study those particles and so the cloud chamber became an absolutely indispensable aid to research. Wilson made atomic particles photographable, by condensing water droplets on the ions that were produced along the paths described by the particles. Wilson's 1911 series of photographs of electrons and individual particles, the tracks of which he described, according to 'Les Prix Nobel', as “little wisps and threads of clouds,” became famous, long before his Nobel Prize win. Wilson's remarkable visual evidence proved the existence of subatomic particles, and substantiated theories of nuclear phenomena. With the addition of a magnetic field, different particles became distinguishable by the curvature of their tracks.
The Wilson Cloud Chamber, which he had perfected by 1923, became indispensable in the study of nuclear physics and was widely used in the study of radioactivity, X-rays, cosmic rays, and other nuclear or particle phenomena. Many important achievements are credited to its use in scientific experimentation. One of those, which led to Compton's Nobel Prize, was the demonstration of the existence of recoil electrons, thus proving the 'Compton Effect', which occurs in x-ray scattering, where the momentum of the quantum of radiation is taken up by the recoil electron. Wilson's cloud chamber was also used by Anderson, which gained him the 1936 Nobel Prize for his discovery of the positron.
Not satisfied by his early achievements, in 1916, Wilson became involved in the study of thunderstorms and lightning, and he put that to good use when he devised a method of protecting British wartime barrage balloons from lightning. Later, in 1956, he published a theory of atmospheric electricity. Wilson also created a new form of electroscope, with which he was able to measure the electric field in the atmosphere. That new device of Wilson's had a sensitivity 100 times greater than anything previously available. Apart from his eponymous chamber, he also had the Wilson Condensation Cloud formations, those that occur after a nuclear detonation, named after him.
Charles Thomson Rees Wilson was born in the farmhouse of Crosshouse, by Glencorse, near Edinburgh, on the 14th of February, 1869. His father, a farmer, died when wee Charlie was only four, whereupon the family moved to Manchester. The farmer's boy was then able to go to a private school, before heading off to become a biology undergraduate at Owen's College, now part of the University of Manchester. He received his bachelor's degree in 1887 and the following year, Wilson went to Cambridge with an entrance scholarship.
At Sidney Sussex College, Wilson realised his vocation wasn't biology and medicine, but physics and chemistry; and the world of science can be thankful for that. Perhaps it can be thankful also to the influence of another Scot, Balfour Stewart, who held the Chair of Physics. Wilson gained his physics degree in 1892 and, after that, he was engaged in research at the Cavendish Laboratory, under the direction of Sir Joseph John Thomson, the British physicist to whom the electron is eternally grateful. Due to the legacy of yet another Scot, James Clerk Maxwell, Wilson was granted the eponymous Student title, which enabled him to devote three further years to research. So it was that during that time, from about 1894, Wilson did a large part of his research into ionizing particles.
The story goes that Wilson developed his hypothesis when he was climbing on Ben Nevis in 1894 and observed coronas produced by sunlight on mist. Now Ben Nevis isn't that high, so there's no overly rarefied atmosphere and we can rule out hallucinations. So it was that, as early as 1896, Wilson's primitive air expansion chamber was assembled. Using Röntgen's newly discovered X-rays to charge the subatomic particles in the air, he found that, when the moist air was then expanded and thus cooled, it became supersaturated and the moisture condensed around the charged ions to produce a vapour cloud of water droplets. A key aspect was dust free air, because every scientist up to then had thought that the water droplets formed around dust, rather than subatomic, particles.
However, his employment effectively deferred his ability to spend a great deal of time on his cloud chamber until 1910. Between 1900 and 1919, Wilson was a University Lecturer at Sidney Sussex, where he was in charge of the advanced teaching of practical physics at the Cavendish Laboratory. During that time, he was also employed for a year by the Meteorological Council to do research. In 1913, Wilson was appointed Observer in Meteorological Physics at the Solar Physics Observatory. In 1918, Wilson was appointed Reader in Electrical Meteorology and, in 1925, he was appointed Jacksonian Professor of Natural Philosophy (i.e., Physics) at Cambridge.
When he retired, in 1934, Wilson went home to Scotland and, when he was eighty, he moved to Carlops, near Edinburgh. But he hadn't really retired as it was there that he completed his theory of atmospheric electricity, submitting the manuscript to the Royal Society in August, 1956, when he was eighty-seven. Charles Thomson Rees Wilson died on the 15th of November, 1959.
Sunday, 12 February 2012
Jinglin' Geordie Heriot
George Heriot, goldsmith and jeweller to King James VI and founder of Heriot's School, died on the 12th of February, 1624.
George Heriot was known as Jinglin' Geordie and today, amongst other things, he's commemorated by a pub on Edinburgh's famous Fleshmarket Close that bears that moniker. How's that for fame? Geordie made his fortune as a goldsmith and jeweller, and moneylender it has to be said, though he was no ordinary loan shark. His clients were Royalty; specifically, James VI & I and his extravagant wife, Anne of Denmark.
In his novel, 'The Wisest Fool', Nigel Tranter has Jinglin' Geordie and his friend, James VI of Scotland, travelling south to London, in order for Jamie Saxt to take up the throne of England from where Elizabeth I, recently deceased, had left off. On the way down as they halted at each town or city, James conferred knighthoods on the stalwart men of Olde England. Seemingly benevolent and very Royal, you might think. But, would you believe it, James was broke and in need of sillar, so each knighthood was granted in exchange for hard cash or a promissory note, at least. Geordie was James' banker and a partner in the scam. One up to the canny Scotsmen, before they ever got near London.
Heriot's dealings with James VI & I and his Queen helped him amass a considerable fortune, and on his death, he left quite a lot of that wealth to good causes in his native Edinburgh. Both his first wife and his second, Alison Primrose, daughter of James Primrose, Clerk to the Scottish Privy Council, predeceased Heriot. So, when Heriot died, he had no legitimate heirs. In such manner was George Heriot able to become founder of Heriot's School, originally George Heriot's Hospital. As the school's website states: “For 350 years, George Heriot’s School has served as one of Scotland’s most distinguished schools.”
The foundation of the present magnificent structure, which was designed by the celebrated architect, Inigo Jones, was laid on the 1st of July, 1628, on land immediately outside the city walls, to the south of Edinburgh Castle and close to Greyfriars Kirk. By the time it finally opened as a school, in April 1659, it had been used as a barracks by Cromwell's troops. Today, it is an independent, co-educational day school, catering for fee-paying pupils as well as orphans and, fittingly true to the vision of its benefactor, the school encourages a desire for excellence and a love of learning. In the fullness of time, Heriot's school got involved in a community college, which merged with the The Watt Institution and School of Arts to become Heriot-Watt College, in 1885. Nearly one hundred years later, in 1966, that became Heriot-Watt University.
In his will, which is dated the 20th of January, 1623, Heriot left a part of his fortune to two natural daughters. He also bequeathed legacies to his relations, servants, &c. The remainder, which amounted to the princely sum of £23,625 10s 3 1/2d Sterling, was left to: “the provost, bailiffs, ministers, and ordinary council, for the time being, of the said town of Edinburgh, for and towards the founding and erecting of an hospital within the said town of Edinburgh, in perpetuity; and for and towards purchasing of certain lands in perpetuity to belong unto the said hospital, to be employed for the maintenance, relief, bringing up, and education of so many poor fatherless boys, freeman’s sons of the town of Edinburgh, as the means which I give, and the yearly value of the lands purchased by the provost, bailiffs, ministers, and council of the said town shall amount, or come to.”
George Heriot was born in June, 1563, and he followed his father into the family business. In 1586, he married Christian Marjoribanks, and with her dowry of 1075 Merks, a gift sum of 1000 Merks from his father, “to be ane begyning and pak to him,” and an additional 500 Merks to purchase the implements of his trade and to fit out his shop, Heriot was able to set up his own business in a 'buith' near St. Giles Cathedral. Two years later, on the 28th of May, 1588, and with his reputation established, Heriot became a member of the Incorporation of Goldsmiths.
Earlier, in August, 1581, the goldsmiths of Edinburgh had received a charter of incorporation from the Magistrates. That charter and its privileges were then confirmed by a charter of James VI, in 1586. Those rights amounted to a monopoly, which lasted for many a year. Consequently, the moneylenders were men of influence, able to charge a high rate of interest and gain a certain hold over the resources of the nobility. They weren't short of a few Bob, that's for sure, considering the usual rate of interest at that period was ten per cent.
Heriot's introduction to the Royals came in 1597, when James VI appointed Heriot goldsmith to his Queen. Soon after, in 1601, Heriot also became goldsmith to the King with all the emoluments attached to that lucrative office, but not before he'd spent some years as moneylender to the very same man. James was actually borrowing money from Jinglin' Geordie, to give to Queen Anne so that she could spend it with Heriot. He was onto a winner, like you wouldn't believe; awesome! The relationship began in Scotland and continued when they flitted to London in 1603. In the six years up to that landmark year, it has been estimated that Anne of Denmark spent £50,000 on jewellery, most all of it with Geordie Heriot.
Heriot's name first appears in the treasurer’s books, in September, 1599, when the following was recorded: “Payit at his majesties special command, with advyiss of the lords of secret counsal, to George Heriot, younger, goldsmith, for a copburd propynit to Monsieur Vetonu, Frenche ambassadour, contening the peces following, viz.: twa basingis, twa laweris effeiring thairto, twa flaconis, twa chandilleris, sex couppis with coveris, twa couppis without coveris, ane lawer for water, ane saltfalt with ane cover; all chissellit wark, and dowbill owirgilt, weyand twa stane 14 pund and 5 unces at aucht mark the unce, £4160. Item, for graving of 28 almessis upon the said copburd £14.”
Down south, Heriot was able to take full advantage of the London-based market for his jewellery and the opportunities it presented for his money lending activities. Mony's the man who took money off Jinglin' Geordie in those days. And, for his services to the King, Shaughlin' Jamie Saxt awarded his mate Heriot a share of all the country's import duties on sugar. Many of the accounts of jewels furnished by Heriot to Queen Anne in London are referenced in Constable's memoir of Heriot. For the ten years between 1605 and 1615, those amount to many thousands of pounds Sterling.
George Heriot died in London, on the 12th of February, 1624, and he was buried at St. Martin-in-the-Fields on the 20th of the same month.
George Heriot was known as Jinglin' Geordie and today, amongst other things, he's commemorated by a pub on Edinburgh's famous Fleshmarket Close that bears that moniker. How's that for fame? Geordie made his fortune as a goldsmith and jeweller, and moneylender it has to be said, though he was no ordinary loan shark. His clients were Royalty; specifically, James VI & I and his extravagant wife, Anne of Denmark.
In his novel, 'The Wisest Fool', Nigel Tranter has Jinglin' Geordie and his friend, James VI of Scotland, travelling south to London, in order for Jamie Saxt to take up the throne of England from where Elizabeth I, recently deceased, had left off. On the way down as they halted at each town or city, James conferred knighthoods on the stalwart men of Olde England. Seemingly benevolent and very Royal, you might think. But, would you believe it, James was broke and in need of sillar, so each knighthood was granted in exchange for hard cash or a promissory note, at least. Geordie was James' banker and a partner in the scam. One up to the canny Scotsmen, before they ever got near London.
Heriot's dealings with James VI & I and his Queen helped him amass a considerable fortune, and on his death, he left quite a lot of that wealth to good causes in his native Edinburgh. Both his first wife and his second, Alison Primrose, daughter of James Primrose, Clerk to the Scottish Privy Council, predeceased Heriot. So, when Heriot died, he had no legitimate heirs. In such manner was George Heriot able to become founder of Heriot's School, originally George Heriot's Hospital. As the school's website states: “For 350 years, George Heriot’s School has served as one of Scotland’s most distinguished schools.”
The foundation of the present magnificent structure, which was designed by the celebrated architect, Inigo Jones, was laid on the 1st of July, 1628, on land immediately outside the city walls, to the south of Edinburgh Castle and close to Greyfriars Kirk. By the time it finally opened as a school, in April 1659, it had been used as a barracks by Cromwell's troops. Today, it is an independent, co-educational day school, catering for fee-paying pupils as well as orphans and, fittingly true to the vision of its benefactor, the school encourages a desire for excellence and a love of learning. In the fullness of time, Heriot's school got involved in a community college, which merged with the The Watt Institution and School of Arts to become Heriot-Watt College, in 1885. Nearly one hundred years later, in 1966, that became Heriot-Watt University.
In his will, which is dated the 20th of January, 1623, Heriot left a part of his fortune to two natural daughters. He also bequeathed legacies to his relations, servants, &c. The remainder, which amounted to the princely sum of £23,625 10s 3 1/2d Sterling, was left to: “the provost, bailiffs, ministers, and ordinary council, for the time being, of the said town of Edinburgh, for and towards the founding and erecting of an hospital within the said town of Edinburgh, in perpetuity; and for and towards purchasing of certain lands in perpetuity to belong unto the said hospital, to be employed for the maintenance, relief, bringing up, and education of so many poor fatherless boys, freeman’s sons of the town of Edinburgh, as the means which I give, and the yearly value of the lands purchased by the provost, bailiffs, ministers, and council of the said town shall amount, or come to.”
George Heriot was born in June, 1563, and he followed his father into the family business. In 1586, he married Christian Marjoribanks, and with her dowry of 1075 Merks, a gift sum of 1000 Merks from his father, “to be ane begyning and pak to him,” and an additional 500 Merks to purchase the implements of his trade and to fit out his shop, Heriot was able to set up his own business in a 'buith' near St. Giles Cathedral. Two years later, on the 28th of May, 1588, and with his reputation established, Heriot became a member of the Incorporation of Goldsmiths.
Earlier, in August, 1581, the goldsmiths of Edinburgh had received a charter of incorporation from the Magistrates. That charter and its privileges were then confirmed by a charter of James VI, in 1586. Those rights amounted to a monopoly, which lasted for many a year. Consequently, the moneylenders were men of influence, able to charge a high rate of interest and gain a certain hold over the resources of the nobility. They weren't short of a few Bob, that's for sure, considering the usual rate of interest at that period was ten per cent.
Heriot's introduction to the Royals came in 1597, when James VI appointed Heriot goldsmith to his Queen. Soon after, in 1601, Heriot also became goldsmith to the King with all the emoluments attached to that lucrative office, but not before he'd spent some years as moneylender to the very same man. James was actually borrowing money from Jinglin' Geordie, to give to Queen Anne so that she could spend it with Heriot. He was onto a winner, like you wouldn't believe; awesome! The relationship began in Scotland and continued when they flitted to London in 1603. In the six years up to that landmark year, it has been estimated that Anne of Denmark spent £50,000 on jewellery, most all of it with Geordie Heriot.
Heriot's name first appears in the treasurer’s books, in September, 1599, when the following was recorded: “Payit at his majesties special command, with advyiss of the lords of secret counsal, to George Heriot, younger, goldsmith, for a copburd propynit to Monsieur Vetonu, Frenche ambassadour, contening the peces following, viz.: twa basingis, twa laweris effeiring thairto, twa flaconis, twa chandilleris, sex couppis with coveris, twa couppis without coveris, ane lawer for water, ane saltfalt with ane cover; all chissellit wark, and dowbill owirgilt, weyand twa stane 14 pund and 5 unces at aucht mark the unce, £4160. Item, for graving of 28 almessis upon the said copburd £14.”
Down south, Heriot was able to take full advantage of the London-based market for his jewellery and the opportunities it presented for his money lending activities. Mony's the man who took money off Jinglin' Geordie in those days. And, for his services to the King, Shaughlin' Jamie Saxt awarded his mate Heriot a share of all the country's import duties on sugar. Many of the accounts of jewels furnished by Heriot to Queen Anne in London are referenced in Constable's memoir of Heriot. For the ten years between 1605 and 1615, those amount to many thousands of pounds Sterling.
George Heriot died in London, on the 12th of February, 1624, and he was buried at St. Martin-in-the-Fields on the 20th of the same month.
Saturday, 11 February 2012
Sir John Buchan, 1st Baron Tweedsmuir
Sir John Buchan, 1st Baron Tweedsmuir, author and Governor General of Canada, died on the 11th of February, 1940.
John Buchan is famous for two things. He's known in literary circles as the author of over 30 novels, seven short story collections, and almost 100 assorted works of non-fiction. In such context, Buchan is revered for his 'ripping yarns' style of novels, featuring Richard Hannay and, in particular, for ‘The Thirty-Nine Steps’. That title is undoubtedly his most well known and it's been the template for countless man-on-the-run spy thrillers and derivative motion pictures, most notably Alfred Hitchcock's 1935 production. Buchan is also known in public life as the distinguished, thirty-fifth Governor General of Canada.
Buchan's honourable style and full pompous title as Governor General was a long one: 'His Excellency the Right Honourable Sir John Buchan, Baron Tweedsmuir of Elsfield, Companion of the Order of Companions of Honour, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George, Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order, Governor General and Commander-in-Chief of the Militia and Naval and Air Forces of Canada'. Small wonder then that Canada's Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, mentioned Buchan's only weaknesses as being his self-importance and love of titles.
In between his major career accomplishments, Buchan also found enough time to be successful as a colonial administrator, tax lawyer, publisher, editor, journalist, historian, Army Officer, and Member of Parliament. Between 1901 and 1903, during and after the Boer War, Buchan was in South Africa, employed as Political Private Secretary to the High Commissioner, Lord Milner. Perhaps it was in that country of the high Veldt where he honed his sense of adventure. It was certainly his experiences in South Africa that gave him the material for 'Prester John', which was published in 1910. His historical works included biographies of James Graham and Sir Walter Scott, and he also produced studies of General Gordon and Oliver Cromwell.
In 1906, Buchan became Chief Literary Adviser and later, a Partner, in the publishing firm of Thomas Nelson and Son, for whom he worked until 1929. In parallel with his early work with those publishers, Buchan was also acting as editor of 'The Spectator' magazine. He seems to have been quite adept at multi-tasking and his prodigious literary output, he wrote a novel a year between 1922 and 1936, undoubtedly backs up that opinion. However, it was during the first months of the First World War, whilst confined to a bed and recovering from illness, that Buchan wrote 'The Thirty-Nine Steps'. His most famous novel was published in 1915, but by then he was a bona fide author, having contributied to Blackwood's Magazine, published six books of fiction, poetry and history, and all while still an Oxford undergraduate at Brasenose College. Buchan's first novel was called 'Sir Quixote of the Moors' and it was published in 1896.
At the beginning of the First World War, in September, 1914, Buchan was hired by the Head of the War Propaganda Bureau, Charles Masterman, to write a monthly publication entitled 'The History of the War'. It was to be published by Thomas Nelson and Son, and its job, understandably, was to promote the British cause. It first appeared in 1915, with the profits being donated to war charities. The magazine was heavily biased in favour of the British Government and as an example, in early 1915, its readers were reliably informed that the Germans were “on the verge of defeat.”
At the same time, Buchan was also a War Correspondent for 'The Times' and the 'Daily News'. One of Buchan's 1916 articles was called 'The Battle of the Somme', in which he optimistically described the first day of the offensive that had cost the lives of as many as 57,000 British Tommies as being so successful that it marked “the end of trench fighting.” Someone else described the first day of the Somme as “the blackest day in the history of the British Army.” Buchan was a Second Lieutenant in the Intelligence Corps and you'd think his job as 'Propaganda Officer' would've been right up his street, despite his having said that it was “the toughest job” he ever took on.
After World War One, Buchan became Assistant Director of the British news agency Reuters, before getting seriously involved with politics. Buchan's first foray into politics was in 1911, when he became the Unionist candidate for Peebles and Selkirk, but it wasn't until 1927 that he was elected. That year, he won the Scottish Universities seat with a decent majority and then held a goodly number of posts, including Lord High Commissioner of the Church of Scotland, before Canada ever beckoned. Buchan is on record as saying of his Liberal opponents that they mixed the “art of the prophet with that of the fishwife”. You can guess what Buchan the Tory thought of the emergent Labour Party. He was an MP until 1935, but never held a Cabinet post.
John Buchan was born in Perth on the 26th of August, 1875. He was the son of a Free Church of Scotland Minister, and although his story isn't quite one of rags to riches, he was still a commoner when he was chosen to become the Viceroy of Canada. So the Scotsman of whom Canada's then Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, said “[he had an] aristocracy of mind” was dutifully made up to the lowest rung of the British hereditary peerage as 1st Baron, Lord Tweedsmuir of Elsfield in the county of Oxford, on the 1st of June, 1935, before he went to Canada.
As Lord Tweedsmuir, John Buchan made a great impression in Canada. He tried to make his Office relevant to the lives of ordinary Canadians and build a national unity by diminishing Canada's religious and linguistic barriers. As he said himself, “a Governor General is in a unique position for it is his duty to know the whole of Canada and all the various types of her people.” In pursuit of that purpose, Buchan travelled throughout Canada, including becoming the first Governor General to tour the Arctic Circle. Between the Wars, Buchan worked with President Roosevelt and his own Prime Minister to avert the ever growing threat of another world war, but as we know, he wasn't successful at that.
John Buchan died in Montreal, of a brain haemorrhage sustained in a fall after suffering a stroke, while shaving, on the 11th of February, 1940. His death occurred soon after he had signed Canada's entry into the Second World War. The Prime Minister, McKenzie King, paid tribute in stating that “the people of Canada have lost one of the greatest and most revered of their Governors General ...who, from the day of his arrival ...dedicated his life to their service.” Lord Tweedsmuir was given a State Funeral at St. Andrews Presbyterian Church in Ottawa and his ashes were returned to England and burial at Elsfield.
John Buchan is famous for two things. He's known in literary circles as the author of over 30 novels, seven short story collections, and almost 100 assorted works of non-fiction. In such context, Buchan is revered for his 'ripping yarns' style of novels, featuring Richard Hannay and, in particular, for ‘The Thirty-Nine Steps’. That title is undoubtedly his most well known and it's been the template for countless man-on-the-run spy thrillers and derivative motion pictures, most notably Alfred Hitchcock's 1935 production. Buchan is also known in public life as the distinguished, thirty-fifth Governor General of Canada.
Buchan's honourable style and full pompous title as Governor General was a long one: 'His Excellency the Right Honourable Sir John Buchan, Baron Tweedsmuir of Elsfield, Companion of the Order of Companions of Honour, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George, Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order, Governor General and Commander-in-Chief of the Militia and Naval and Air Forces of Canada'. Small wonder then that Canada's Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, mentioned Buchan's only weaknesses as being his self-importance and love of titles.
In between his major career accomplishments, Buchan also found enough time to be successful as a colonial administrator, tax lawyer, publisher, editor, journalist, historian, Army Officer, and Member of Parliament. Between 1901 and 1903, during and after the Boer War, Buchan was in South Africa, employed as Political Private Secretary to the High Commissioner, Lord Milner. Perhaps it was in that country of the high Veldt where he honed his sense of adventure. It was certainly his experiences in South Africa that gave him the material for 'Prester John', which was published in 1910. His historical works included biographies of James Graham and Sir Walter Scott, and he also produced studies of General Gordon and Oliver Cromwell.
In 1906, Buchan became Chief Literary Adviser and later, a Partner, in the publishing firm of Thomas Nelson and Son, for whom he worked until 1929. In parallel with his early work with those publishers, Buchan was also acting as editor of 'The Spectator' magazine. He seems to have been quite adept at multi-tasking and his prodigious literary output, he wrote a novel a year between 1922 and 1936, undoubtedly backs up that opinion. However, it was during the first months of the First World War, whilst confined to a bed and recovering from illness, that Buchan wrote 'The Thirty-Nine Steps'. His most famous novel was published in 1915, but by then he was a bona fide author, having contributied to Blackwood's Magazine, published six books of fiction, poetry and history, and all while still an Oxford undergraduate at Brasenose College. Buchan's first novel was called 'Sir Quixote of the Moors' and it was published in 1896.
At the beginning of the First World War, in September, 1914, Buchan was hired by the Head of the War Propaganda Bureau, Charles Masterman, to write a monthly publication entitled 'The History of the War'. It was to be published by Thomas Nelson and Son, and its job, understandably, was to promote the British cause. It first appeared in 1915, with the profits being donated to war charities. The magazine was heavily biased in favour of the British Government and as an example, in early 1915, its readers were reliably informed that the Germans were “on the verge of defeat.”
At the same time, Buchan was also a War Correspondent for 'The Times' and the 'Daily News'. One of Buchan's 1916 articles was called 'The Battle of the Somme', in which he optimistically described the first day of the offensive that had cost the lives of as many as 57,000 British Tommies as being so successful that it marked “the end of trench fighting.” Someone else described the first day of the Somme as “the blackest day in the history of the British Army.” Buchan was a Second Lieutenant in the Intelligence Corps and you'd think his job as 'Propaganda Officer' would've been right up his street, despite his having said that it was “the toughest job” he ever took on.
After World War One, Buchan became Assistant Director of the British news agency Reuters, before getting seriously involved with politics. Buchan's first foray into politics was in 1911, when he became the Unionist candidate for Peebles and Selkirk, but it wasn't until 1927 that he was elected. That year, he won the Scottish Universities seat with a decent majority and then held a goodly number of posts, including Lord High Commissioner of the Church of Scotland, before Canada ever beckoned. Buchan is on record as saying of his Liberal opponents that they mixed the “art of the prophet with that of the fishwife”. You can guess what Buchan the Tory thought of the emergent Labour Party. He was an MP until 1935, but never held a Cabinet post.
John Buchan was born in Perth on the 26th of August, 1875. He was the son of a Free Church of Scotland Minister, and although his story isn't quite one of rags to riches, he was still a commoner when he was chosen to become the Viceroy of Canada. So the Scotsman of whom Canada's then Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, said “[he had an] aristocracy of mind” was dutifully made up to the lowest rung of the British hereditary peerage as 1st Baron, Lord Tweedsmuir of Elsfield in the county of Oxford, on the 1st of June, 1935, before he went to Canada.
As Lord Tweedsmuir, John Buchan made a great impression in Canada. He tried to make his Office relevant to the lives of ordinary Canadians and build a national unity by diminishing Canada's religious and linguistic barriers. As he said himself, “a Governor General is in a unique position for it is his duty to know the whole of Canada and all the various types of her people.” In pursuit of that purpose, Buchan travelled throughout Canada, including becoming the first Governor General to tour the Arctic Circle. Between the Wars, Buchan worked with President Roosevelt and his own Prime Minister to avert the ever growing threat of another world war, but as we know, he wasn't successful at that.
John Buchan died in Montreal, of a brain haemorrhage sustained in a fall after suffering a stroke, while shaving, on the 11th of February, 1940. His death occurred soon after he had signed Canada's entry into the Second World War. The Prime Minister, McKenzie King, paid tribute in stating that “the people of Canada have lost one of the greatest and most revered of their Governors General ...who, from the day of his arrival ...dedicated his life to their service.” Lord Tweedsmuir was given a State Funeral at St. Andrews Presbyterian Church in Ottawa and his ashes were returned to England and burial at Elsfield.
Friday, 10 February 2012
Henry, Lord Darnley
Henry, Lord Darnley, was murdered in Kirk O' Field on the 10th of February, 1567.
Henry Stewart gained a string of titles in his day, from Master of Lennox in Scotland as heir to his father, the 4th Earl of Lennox, through Lord Darnley, an English title, to the Earl of Ross and Lord of Ardmanach, the Duke of Albany, and, ultimately, His Grace The King of Scots. That latter was his greatest achievement and he got it by virtue of his marrying Mary I, Queen of Scots, to become her second husband. At the end of the day, there wasn't much virtue in Henry Stewart, but his pedigree made him a candidate for succession to the English throne after Elizabeth I and a suitable suitor for Mary. Henry Stewart, known to the world as Darnley, was one of history's nearly men; one who is more famous for dying than living.
As the father of Mary's son, Darnley is the direct ancestor of all the sovereigns of Scotland, England and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland since James VI became James I in 1603. Not a great pedigree and a fact that explains a lot. Born in England on the 7th of December, 1545, at Temple Newsom in Yorkshire, Darnley was ostensibly an English subject, who was also subject to controversy. The first contentious aspect of his pathetic life is the debate over whether Elizabeth I did or didn't want Darnley to marry Mary. At the time, Catholic Mary had the dilemma of whether to marry one of her own faith or a Protestant; not an easy choice. Elizabeth I apparently stated that she would name Mary as her heir if she married an Englishman, suggesting Darnley.
Contrast Elizabeth's alleged endorsement with Darnley's imprisonment, because he was a threat to her throne, her council's declaring its dislike of the proposed marriage and its demand for Darnley to return to London. Maybe Gloriana had second thoughts after she'd taken stock of her Royal Scottish cousin's strong character, which was in start contrast to Darnley's. No doubt Elizabeth I thought she could remotely control Darnley and through him, Mary I, Queen of Scots, to England's advantage.
What did happen was that Lang Mary was ta'en wi' Darnley at first, going so far as to describe him as “the properest and best proportioned lang man” that she had ever seen. Whether Mary I was truly infatuated or actually in love with Darnley is debatable, but, in any case, they were married on the 29th of July, 1565. It didn't take Mary long to see through Darnley's greed and desire, which wasn't for her. For Darnley, Mary was but a stepping stone to the English throne. To foil his ambitions, Mary made sure Parliament denied Darnley the Crown Matrimonial, which would have given him equal power, and instead he was merely 'His Grace The King of Scots'.
With his ambitions thwarted, Darnley went off in a sulk and devoted his time to gaining the reputation history has bequeathed him, namely that he was an arrogant, egotistical, dissolute, vicious and drunken man, disliked by many of his peers. Darnley took to gallivanting around with a crowd of low-life mates in search of sexual adventures, frequenting establishments of ill-repute. Certain Protestant Nobles took advantage of his having become estranged from Mary and inveigled Darnley into a plot to do away with the Queen's secretary, the Italian, Fiddler Davie, whom they saw as the Pope's secret agent, in exchange for promises of granting him the Crown Matrimonial. Darnley was persuaded that David Rizzio (or Riccio), the erstwhile fiddle player, was fiddling about with Mary's affections. Another straw on Darnley's camel-back came when she told him at Linlithgow, in the autumn of 1565, that she was pregnant with their child, the birth of whom would effectively ruin all his ambitions of becoming King of either nation.
On the 9th of March, 1566, Darnley and the conspiring Nobles brutally slaughtered Fiddler Davie in the presence of Mary, the Queen. Darnley may not have done any of the stabbing himself, but his knife was left in the body and it seems it was his spiteful idea to do the deed in front of Mary. His cruel notion was that Mary might miscarry and he'd still have a chance at the throne. You can just imagine the vicious expression on his face as he held Mary down, whilst his fellow conspirators were going “stabbetty-stab” – 56 times!
Less than a year later, Darnley got his comeuppance. Darnley had become more than a nuisance to many Nobles, not least his co-conspirators, whom he'd betrayed to Mary. He was also reputedly plotting to seize his son and rule as Regent. So the 'Darnley Problem' became the subject of more conspiracy. Mary was present at Craigmillar on the 20th of November, 1566, where divorce was mooted. Also suggested, albeit ambiguously, was the idea of 'removing' Darnley. Mary wasn't keen on divorce as she thought it would have an adverse affect on her son's legitimate claims to the throne, but neither did she want them to do anything that would taint her honour. Later, after Mary had retired, certain Lords, allegedly Huntly, Argyll, Maitland, Bothwell, Balfour, and Morton, agreed to a plot known as the 'Craigmillar Bond', the objective of which was Darnley's murder.
The official story is that about two o'clock on the morning of Monday the 10th of February, 1567, an explosion occurred at Kirk o' Field, the Old Provost's Lodging, south of the Cowgate. Gunpowder, placed into the Queen's chamber, below Darnley's room, was the cause of the explosion and his death. However, Darnley wasn't killed by any explosion. Darnley's half-naked body and that of his servant, William Taylor, were found in the adjacent orchard, about forty feet from the house. Both men had been strangled and there was no evidence of burns or damage from the blast on either man. Mysteriously, lying beside them were a cloak, a dagger, a rope and a chair. Solve that one, Mr. Holmes.
The Craigmillar Bond has conveniently disappeared and, in any case, its existence relies on the testimony of two men, extracted under torture. The Casket Letters, conveniently discovered by James Douglas, the 4th Earl of Morton, have equally conveniently disappeared. One of those, the Glasgow Letter, implicated both Mary and Bothwell in Darnley's murder. Bothwell was acquitted, but then again, he married Mary very soon afterwards. On the other hand, Mary's natural half brother, James Stewart, the 1st Earl of Moray, albeit absent in France at the time, became the main man behind the vilification of Bothwell and a suspect at the time. Morton, who later became Regent, is also a prime candidate for being the ringleader. It's also said that Darnley was involved in a fake attempt on his own life, but that persons unknown had other ideas and took advantage of the opportunity. It remains an unsolved murder mystery to this day.
Henry Stewart gained a string of titles in his day, from Master of Lennox in Scotland as heir to his father, the 4th Earl of Lennox, through Lord Darnley, an English title, to the Earl of Ross and Lord of Ardmanach, the Duke of Albany, and, ultimately, His Grace The King of Scots. That latter was his greatest achievement and he got it by virtue of his marrying Mary I, Queen of Scots, to become her second husband. At the end of the day, there wasn't much virtue in Henry Stewart, but his pedigree made him a candidate for succession to the English throne after Elizabeth I and a suitable suitor for Mary. Henry Stewart, known to the world as Darnley, was one of history's nearly men; one who is more famous for dying than living.
As the father of Mary's son, Darnley is the direct ancestor of all the sovereigns of Scotland, England and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland since James VI became James I in 1603. Not a great pedigree and a fact that explains a lot. Born in England on the 7th of December, 1545, at Temple Newsom in Yorkshire, Darnley was ostensibly an English subject, who was also subject to controversy. The first contentious aspect of his pathetic life is the debate over whether Elizabeth I did or didn't want Darnley to marry Mary. At the time, Catholic Mary had the dilemma of whether to marry one of her own faith or a Protestant; not an easy choice. Elizabeth I apparently stated that she would name Mary as her heir if she married an Englishman, suggesting Darnley.
Contrast Elizabeth's alleged endorsement with Darnley's imprisonment, because he was a threat to her throne, her council's declaring its dislike of the proposed marriage and its demand for Darnley to return to London. Maybe Gloriana had second thoughts after she'd taken stock of her Royal Scottish cousin's strong character, which was in start contrast to Darnley's. No doubt Elizabeth I thought she could remotely control Darnley and through him, Mary I, Queen of Scots, to England's advantage.
What did happen was that Lang Mary was ta'en wi' Darnley at first, going so far as to describe him as “the properest and best proportioned lang man” that she had ever seen. Whether Mary I was truly infatuated or actually in love with Darnley is debatable, but, in any case, they were married on the 29th of July, 1565. It didn't take Mary long to see through Darnley's greed and desire, which wasn't for her. For Darnley, Mary was but a stepping stone to the English throne. To foil his ambitions, Mary made sure Parliament denied Darnley the Crown Matrimonial, which would have given him equal power, and instead he was merely 'His Grace The King of Scots'.
With his ambitions thwarted, Darnley went off in a sulk and devoted his time to gaining the reputation history has bequeathed him, namely that he was an arrogant, egotistical, dissolute, vicious and drunken man, disliked by many of his peers. Darnley took to gallivanting around with a crowd of low-life mates in search of sexual adventures, frequenting establishments of ill-repute. Certain Protestant Nobles took advantage of his having become estranged from Mary and inveigled Darnley into a plot to do away with the Queen's secretary, the Italian, Fiddler Davie, whom they saw as the Pope's secret agent, in exchange for promises of granting him the Crown Matrimonial. Darnley was persuaded that David Rizzio (or Riccio), the erstwhile fiddle player, was fiddling about with Mary's affections. Another straw on Darnley's camel-back came when she told him at Linlithgow, in the autumn of 1565, that she was pregnant with their child, the birth of whom would effectively ruin all his ambitions of becoming King of either nation.
On the 9th of March, 1566, Darnley and the conspiring Nobles brutally slaughtered Fiddler Davie in the presence of Mary, the Queen. Darnley may not have done any of the stabbing himself, but his knife was left in the body and it seems it was his spiteful idea to do the deed in front of Mary. His cruel notion was that Mary might miscarry and he'd still have a chance at the throne. You can just imagine the vicious expression on his face as he held Mary down, whilst his fellow conspirators were going “stabbetty-stab” – 56 times!
Less than a year later, Darnley got his comeuppance. Darnley had become more than a nuisance to many Nobles, not least his co-conspirators, whom he'd betrayed to Mary. He was also reputedly plotting to seize his son and rule as Regent. So the 'Darnley Problem' became the subject of more conspiracy. Mary was present at Craigmillar on the 20th of November, 1566, where divorce was mooted. Also suggested, albeit ambiguously, was the idea of 'removing' Darnley. Mary wasn't keen on divorce as she thought it would have an adverse affect on her son's legitimate claims to the throne, but neither did she want them to do anything that would taint her honour. Later, after Mary had retired, certain Lords, allegedly Huntly, Argyll, Maitland, Bothwell, Balfour, and Morton, agreed to a plot known as the 'Craigmillar Bond', the objective of which was Darnley's murder.
The official story is that about two o'clock on the morning of Monday the 10th of February, 1567, an explosion occurred at Kirk o' Field, the Old Provost's Lodging, south of the Cowgate. Gunpowder, placed into the Queen's chamber, below Darnley's room, was the cause of the explosion and his death. However, Darnley wasn't killed by any explosion. Darnley's half-naked body and that of his servant, William Taylor, were found in the adjacent orchard, about forty feet from the house. Both men had been strangled and there was no evidence of burns or damage from the blast on either man. Mysteriously, lying beside them were a cloak, a dagger, a rope and a chair. Solve that one, Mr. Holmes.
The Craigmillar Bond has conveniently disappeared and, in any case, its existence relies on the testimony of two men, extracted under torture. The Casket Letters, conveniently discovered by James Douglas, the 4th Earl of Morton, have equally conveniently disappeared. One of those, the Glasgow Letter, implicated both Mary and Bothwell in Darnley's murder. Bothwell was acquitted, but then again, he married Mary very soon afterwards. On the other hand, Mary's natural half brother, James Stewart, the 1st Earl of Moray, albeit absent in France at the time, became the main man behind the vilification of Bothwell and a suspect at the time. Morton, who later became Regent, is also a prime candidate for being the ringleader. It's also said that Darnley was involved in a fake attempt on his own life, but that persons unknown had other ideas and took advantage of the opportunity. It remains an unsolved murder mystery to this day.
Thursday, 9 February 2012
The Scots Magazine
The publication of the first edition of the Scots Magazine occurred on the 9th of February, 1739.
'The Scots Magazine' is probably the world's most widely-read Scottish interest publication. It is better for you than any fizzy continental lager and contains far more readable material than a bottle label. The magazine has a multi-national readership of over 190,000 and, reputedly, at over 275 years, it is the oldest magazine in the world still in publication. Today, the magazine features stories and information about Scotland, its people and their culture, covering its traditions and history, including the natural history. Its stand-first, which sums up its content very well, is 'SCOTLAND – PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE'. According to the website of its present manifestation, 'The Scots Magazine' “has evolved into a colourful, authoritative, thought-provoking monthly periodical with many thousands of readers worldwide.” The very first issue, published in Edinburgh on Monday, the 9th of February, 1739, was less colourful, but no less thought provoking.
In the 21st Century, it should come as no surprise to find that 'The Scots Magazine' is on Facebook, whatever thoughts that might provoke. Today, apart from on the Internet, you may find the A5-sized 'The Scots Magazine' in the waiting rooms of sundry doctors, dentists, lawyers, solicitors, accountants and estate agents, the length and breadth of Scotland. It had a similar distribution in the 18th Century, although the typical reader paid his 'tanner' for it, rather than read a second hand copy for nothing, except to while away the time in somebody else's ante-room. 'The Scots Magazine' is widely read among Scots overseas and wider still than the Scottish diaspora, it is also read by aficionados of Scotland and the Scots. That latter category of folks may not be Scots themselves, but they have, unsurprisingly, fallen in love with the place. Many foreign visitors to Scotland seem to find that the magazine appeals to them and they become subscribers. There's something for everyone in the magazine, not least some magnificent photos taken in all parts of Scotland.
The published in February, January retrospective of volume one was a forty-eight page pamphlet. Edited and printed in Edinburgh, the early issues of 'The Scots Magazine', were priced at sixpence (6d.) monthly. The magazine was originally intended to be a current affairs journal and prided itself on its foreign and domestic news service. Indeed, it seems to have been highly regarded for its coverage of world affairs. The magazine was probably the first source of news for many genteel Scots, in Edinburgh and beyond; wherever else it managed to find its way, rolled up and carried in a jacket pocket or stuffed down the side of a horse-carriage seat. In terms of newsworthy events, for instance, the May issue of 1746 contained an account of the defeat of the Jacobites at the Battle of Culloden. Hardly a story that could've been missed, you might say, but it wasn't a very balanced account as the magazine at the time, like most folks outside of the Highlands, was deeply Hanoverian in its sympathies.
The summary of its history published on its website tells also that it printed long parliamentary reports, perhaps in their entirety. However, the names of the speakers were given fictitiously, which was “a deliberate device to circumvent the ban on the reporting of parliamentary proceedings.” A pretty inventive lot, those Edinburghers of the late 1700s. Those reports were presented as the 'JOURNAL of the Proceedings and Debates in the POLITICAL CLUB'. You can get a flavour from an extract introduced in this manner: “In the debate begun in our December Magazine and continued in our Appendix, M. Agrippa ftood up next, and fpoke as follows.”
M. Agrippa was, as we know from the reference published at the back of the volume under the heading 'A List of the Noblemen and Gentlemen whose Characters the Speakers in the Political Club have assumed', Lord Carteret. And here is part of what was recorded as his opening paragraph: “My Lords, It fignifies nothing to make declamations against corruption unless we do something againft it. ...The people without doors will but little regard what we fay againft corruption; but the example of this houfe will have a great effect. Let us convince them by what we do, that no Lord of this houfe is guilty of being corrupted, which I am convinced is the cafe, and the crime will fink by the weight of its own infamy.” Lord Carteret was undoubtedly an optimist. One wonders what he'd make of Parliament today.
'The Scots Magazine' ceased publication in 1826, primarily due to declining sales figures, which were impacted by fresh competition from the likes of 'Blackwood's Magazine', with its revolutionary editorial policy. 'The Scots Magazine' disappeared entirely until 1888, when it got a new lease of life, for a while, when it was published by S. Cowan of Perth, until 1893. It re-emerged in April, 1924, under the auspices of the St Andrew Society, and since 1927, it's been published monthly without fail by the world famous D. C. Thomson & Co., Ltd., of Dundee.
You can find a copy of Volume 3, published in December, 1741, in Google Books. The volume is entitled: 'THE SCOTS MAGAZINE. CONTAINING, A GENERAL VIEW OF THE Religion, Politicks, Entertainment, &c. IN GREAT BRITAIN: And a fuccinct Account of PUBLICK AFFAIRS FOREIGN and DOMESTICK For the Year MDCCXLI.'
The information presented in those early, 18th Century issues of the magazine was quite varied, ranging from news of the war with Spain and commentary upon “the cruelty and injustice of the enemy,” designed to give its readers “a just View of the Interests of our country,” to the aforementioned 'Proceedings of a learned Political Club'. It also contained “Entertaining Essays” and poetry, and furnished “Gentlemen a means of communicating to the publick any discoveries they make in arts or sciences or whatever may contribute either to the utility or entertainment of mankind.” Unsurprisingly, it also contained a list of 'Marriages Births Deaths and Preferments' that gave its readers “an opportunity of observing what alterations happen in families of a middle as well as of a high station.”
These days, as in 1741, 'The Scots Magazine' won't strike you as a publication for readers the likes of whom prefer those 'red-top' newspapers, that's for sure.
'The Scots Magazine' is probably the world's most widely-read Scottish interest publication. It is better for you than any fizzy continental lager and contains far more readable material than a bottle label. The magazine has a multi-national readership of over 190,000 and, reputedly, at over 275 years, it is the oldest magazine in the world still in publication. Today, the magazine features stories and information about Scotland, its people and their culture, covering its traditions and history, including the natural history. Its stand-first, which sums up its content very well, is 'SCOTLAND – PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE'. According to the website of its present manifestation, 'The Scots Magazine' “has evolved into a colourful, authoritative, thought-provoking monthly periodical with many thousands of readers worldwide.” The very first issue, published in Edinburgh on Monday, the 9th of February, 1739, was less colourful, but no less thought provoking.
In the 21st Century, it should come as no surprise to find that 'The Scots Magazine' is on Facebook, whatever thoughts that might provoke. Today, apart from on the Internet, you may find the A5-sized 'The Scots Magazine' in the waiting rooms of sundry doctors, dentists, lawyers, solicitors, accountants and estate agents, the length and breadth of Scotland. It had a similar distribution in the 18th Century, although the typical reader paid his 'tanner' for it, rather than read a second hand copy for nothing, except to while away the time in somebody else's ante-room. 'The Scots Magazine' is widely read among Scots overseas and wider still than the Scottish diaspora, it is also read by aficionados of Scotland and the Scots. That latter category of folks may not be Scots themselves, but they have, unsurprisingly, fallen in love with the place. Many foreign visitors to Scotland seem to find that the magazine appeals to them and they become subscribers. There's something for everyone in the magazine, not least some magnificent photos taken in all parts of Scotland.
The published in February, January retrospective of volume one was a forty-eight page pamphlet. Edited and printed in Edinburgh, the early issues of 'The Scots Magazine', were priced at sixpence (6d.) monthly. The magazine was originally intended to be a current affairs journal and prided itself on its foreign and domestic news service. Indeed, it seems to have been highly regarded for its coverage of world affairs. The magazine was probably the first source of news for many genteel Scots, in Edinburgh and beyond; wherever else it managed to find its way, rolled up and carried in a jacket pocket or stuffed down the side of a horse-carriage seat. In terms of newsworthy events, for instance, the May issue of 1746 contained an account of the defeat of the Jacobites at the Battle of Culloden. Hardly a story that could've been missed, you might say, but it wasn't a very balanced account as the magazine at the time, like most folks outside of the Highlands, was deeply Hanoverian in its sympathies.
The summary of its history published on its website tells also that it printed long parliamentary reports, perhaps in their entirety. However, the names of the speakers were given fictitiously, which was “a deliberate device to circumvent the ban on the reporting of parliamentary proceedings.” A pretty inventive lot, those Edinburghers of the late 1700s. Those reports were presented as the 'JOURNAL of the Proceedings and Debates in the POLITICAL CLUB'. You can get a flavour from an extract introduced in this manner: “In the debate begun in our December Magazine and continued in our Appendix, M. Agrippa ftood up next, and fpoke as follows.”
M. Agrippa was, as we know from the reference published at the back of the volume under the heading 'A List of the Noblemen and Gentlemen whose Characters the Speakers in the Political Club have assumed', Lord Carteret. And here is part of what was recorded as his opening paragraph: “My Lords, It fignifies nothing to make declamations against corruption unless we do something againft it. ...The people without doors will but little regard what we fay againft corruption; but the example of this houfe will have a great effect. Let us convince them by what we do, that no Lord of this houfe is guilty of being corrupted, which I am convinced is the cafe, and the crime will fink by the weight of its own infamy.” Lord Carteret was undoubtedly an optimist. One wonders what he'd make of Parliament today.
'The Scots Magazine' ceased publication in 1826, primarily due to declining sales figures, which were impacted by fresh competition from the likes of 'Blackwood's Magazine', with its revolutionary editorial policy. 'The Scots Magazine' disappeared entirely until 1888, when it got a new lease of life, for a while, when it was published by S. Cowan of Perth, until 1893. It re-emerged in April, 1924, under the auspices of the St Andrew Society, and since 1927, it's been published monthly without fail by the world famous D. C. Thomson & Co., Ltd., of Dundee.
You can find a copy of Volume 3, published in December, 1741, in Google Books. The volume is entitled: 'THE SCOTS MAGAZINE. CONTAINING, A GENERAL VIEW OF THE Religion, Politicks, Entertainment, &c. IN GREAT BRITAIN: And a fuccinct Account of PUBLICK AFFAIRS FOREIGN and DOMESTICK For the Year MDCCXLI.'
The information presented in those early, 18th Century issues of the magazine was quite varied, ranging from news of the war with Spain and commentary upon “the cruelty and injustice of the enemy,” designed to give its readers “a just View of the Interests of our country,” to the aforementioned 'Proceedings of a learned Political Club'. It also contained “Entertaining Essays” and poetry, and furnished “Gentlemen a means of communicating to the publick any discoveries they make in arts or sciences or whatever may contribute either to the utility or entertainment of mankind.” Unsurprisingly, it also contained a list of 'Marriages Births Deaths and Preferments' that gave its readers “an opportunity of observing what alterations happen in families of a middle as well as of a high station.”
These days, as in 1741, 'The Scots Magazine' won't strike you as a publication for readers the likes of whom prefer those 'red-top' newspapers, that's for sure.
Sunday, 5 February 2012
William Cullen, Professor of Chemistry
William Cullen, the first Professor of Chemistry at Glasgow University, died on the 5th of February, 1790.
William Cullen was yet another of that merry band of men who contributed to the Scottish Enlightenment. That band comprised a large body of intellectuals, spanning all the arts and sciences, and its contribution to the enlightenment of its fellow man was considerable. Cullen isn't as famous as some of his mates and peers, nor even several of his students, but nevertheless, he was a weel kent figure in his day. Cullen is variously described as a physician, chemist, agriculturalist and author. However, it was as a professor of medicine and chemistry that Cullen made his name and that, in particular, because of his innovative teaching methods. A claim to fame for William Cullen, the tutor, is that he was the first man to deliver a series of independent lectures on chemistry and medicine in Great Britain. Of course, he delivered his lectures in Scotland, in Glasgow and in Edinburgh, where the medical school was then considered to be the leading centre of medical education in the English speaking world.
Cullen's “forceful, inspiring lectures” drew medical students to Edinburgh from far and wide and he was one of the first to teach in English rather than in Latin, which made his lectures eminently more accessible. Cullen was a practical man, who delivered his clinical lectures in the infirmary, lecturing from his own notes and with hands-on demonstrations for his students. Notwithstanding his own method of teaching, Cullen's book, 'First Lines of the Practice of Physic', was used as a textbook by his students. That textbook of his became popular for a time in Britain, throughout Europe and in the American colonies.
Cullen was a bit of an evangelist for the teaching of chemistry and for its becoming an academic subject in its own right. In 1747, after persuading Glasgow University to give him the thirty pounds salary that was saved during the time the Professor of Oriental Languages was abroad and getting them to top it up with a further twenty-two pounds, Cullen was able to get his laboratory and the first ever chemistry lectures up and running. According to the 'Senate Minutes' of the 26th of June, 1749, Cullen explained that “he had expended a much greater sum himself in purchasing cucurbits, boltheads and a great many other instruments.” The University duly acknowledged that “he has just right to these instruments and may dispose of and use them as he thinks fit.”
In terms of Cullen's overall contribution, there is a bit of a contradiction in that some folks have written that he was considered a “progressive thinker, for his time,” whilst others indicate that he was “unoriginal, but enlightened” and his work “derivative.” Cullen did, in fact, produce an influential 'ology'; a nosology, or classification of disease, which he described in 'Synopsis Nosologiae Methodicae', in 1769. The saving grace is that Rosalie Stott, PhD, Hannah Fellow in the History of Medicine at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, suggests that Cullen's name is generally linked with that of Herman Boerhaave as one of “the two great teachers of clinical medicine in the 18th Century.” Stott's paper also quotes Lester S. King as having written that Cullen could confidently be called the “leading British physician of the 18th Century” and that W. F. Bynum points to Cullen as being “undoubtedly the most significant figure” in British medicine, in the second half of that Century.
Cullen also became famous as a scientist when he became the first to demonstrate in public the phenomenon of the refrigeration effects of evaporative cooling. Basically, in Edinburgh, in 1756, William Cullen invented the refrigerator, when he froze water, using a pump to create a partial vacuum over a container of diethyl ether, which then boiled and absorbed heat from its surroundings, leaving behind a small amount of ice. Earlier, at the University of Glasgow, in 1748, Cullen had made the first known, non-public demonstration of artificial refrigeration. What Cullen proved was that the previously postulated principles of artificial refrigeration worked.
Cullen wrote up his experiment in a notable paper entitled 'Of the Cold Produced by Evaporating Fluids and of Some Other Means of Producing Cold' that was published in 'Essays and Observations Physical and Literary Read Before a Society in Edinburgh and Published by Them, vol. II'. Unfortunately for Cullen, despite statements like “the cold that accompanies evaporating fluids could be useful,” he didn't pursue any commercial application. It was left to the American inventor, Oliver Evans, to design the first refrigeration machine, which he did in 1805. Three decades later, in 1834, Jacob Perkins built the first practical refrigerating machine, using ether in a vapour compression cycle.
A name dropping list of Cullen's cronies, peers and pupils includes so many names that are of significance that you cannot fail to be impressed. Think of it this way, though, not that Cullen knew these folks, but that they knew him. They had reason to thank Cullen for the education and instruction he imparted. He had their friendship and respect in return. Enlightenment Scots associated with Cullen include: David Hume and Adam Smith, to both of whom Cullen was physician; Joseph Black and William Hunter, to both of whom he was mentor; John Millar; Adam Ferguson; William Smellie; and Alexander Monro (Primus). Cullen's weel kent students also included several influential Americans, notably Benjamin Rush, signatory to the Declaration of Independence, John Morgan, who founded the Medical School at the College of Philadelphia, the first in the American Colonies.
William Cullen was born in Hamilton, Lanarkshire, on the 15th of April, 1710. Wee Willie attended Hamilton Grammar School, before, in 1726, starting a course at the University of Glasgow. Willie developed an interest in medicine and got himself apprenticed as surgeon apothecary to John Paisley at the University. After that, during 1729, Mr. Cullen was surgeon aboard a merchant vessel trading between London and the West Indies. The next two years Cullen spent in London as assistant apothecary to a Mr. Murray, of Henrietta Street. In 1732, Cullen went back to Scotland, where he established his own general medical practice near Shotts. Between 1733 and 1736, Cullen was also able to study medicine at Edinburgh University and, in 1736, he went back to Hamilton. In 1740, after eight years in private clinical practice, combined with studies in Edinburgh, Cullen was awarded a Doctor of Medicine degree from Glasgow University.
In 1743, Cullen moved to Glasgow, which is where his interest in teaching chemistry was encouraged by Dr. Johnstone, the Professor of Medicine. In 1751, Cullen got Johnstone's job, but, in 1755, he switched to Edinburgh, where, in 1766, he succeeded to the Chair of the Institutes (theory) of Medicine. In 1773, William Cullen became sole Professor of Physic, the position he held until shortly before his death, which occurred in Edinburgh, on the 5th of February, 1790.
William Cullen was yet another of that merry band of men who contributed to the Scottish Enlightenment. That band comprised a large body of intellectuals, spanning all the arts and sciences, and its contribution to the enlightenment of its fellow man was considerable. Cullen isn't as famous as some of his mates and peers, nor even several of his students, but nevertheless, he was a weel kent figure in his day. Cullen is variously described as a physician, chemist, agriculturalist and author. However, it was as a professor of medicine and chemistry that Cullen made his name and that, in particular, because of his innovative teaching methods. A claim to fame for William Cullen, the tutor, is that he was the first man to deliver a series of independent lectures on chemistry and medicine in Great Britain. Of course, he delivered his lectures in Scotland, in Glasgow and in Edinburgh, where the medical school was then considered to be the leading centre of medical education in the English speaking world.
Cullen's “forceful, inspiring lectures” drew medical students to Edinburgh from far and wide and he was one of the first to teach in English rather than in Latin, which made his lectures eminently more accessible. Cullen was a practical man, who delivered his clinical lectures in the infirmary, lecturing from his own notes and with hands-on demonstrations for his students. Notwithstanding his own method of teaching, Cullen's book, 'First Lines of the Practice of Physic', was used as a textbook by his students. That textbook of his became popular for a time in Britain, throughout Europe and in the American colonies.
Cullen was a bit of an evangelist for the teaching of chemistry and for its becoming an academic subject in its own right. In 1747, after persuading Glasgow University to give him the thirty pounds salary that was saved during the time the Professor of Oriental Languages was abroad and getting them to top it up with a further twenty-two pounds, Cullen was able to get his laboratory and the first ever chemistry lectures up and running. According to the 'Senate Minutes' of the 26th of June, 1749, Cullen explained that “he had expended a much greater sum himself in purchasing cucurbits, boltheads and a great many other instruments.” The University duly acknowledged that “he has just right to these instruments and may dispose of and use them as he thinks fit.”
In terms of Cullen's overall contribution, there is a bit of a contradiction in that some folks have written that he was considered a “progressive thinker, for his time,” whilst others indicate that he was “unoriginal, but enlightened” and his work “derivative.” Cullen did, in fact, produce an influential 'ology'; a nosology, or classification of disease, which he described in 'Synopsis Nosologiae Methodicae', in 1769. The saving grace is that Rosalie Stott, PhD, Hannah Fellow in the History of Medicine at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, suggests that Cullen's name is generally linked with that of Herman Boerhaave as one of “the two great teachers of clinical medicine in the 18th Century.” Stott's paper also quotes Lester S. King as having written that Cullen could confidently be called the “leading British physician of the 18th Century” and that W. F. Bynum points to Cullen as being “undoubtedly the most significant figure” in British medicine, in the second half of that Century.
Cullen also became famous as a scientist when he became the first to demonstrate in public the phenomenon of the refrigeration effects of evaporative cooling. Basically, in Edinburgh, in 1756, William Cullen invented the refrigerator, when he froze water, using a pump to create a partial vacuum over a container of diethyl ether, which then boiled and absorbed heat from its surroundings, leaving behind a small amount of ice. Earlier, at the University of Glasgow, in 1748, Cullen had made the first known, non-public demonstration of artificial refrigeration. What Cullen proved was that the previously postulated principles of artificial refrigeration worked.
Cullen wrote up his experiment in a notable paper entitled 'Of the Cold Produced by Evaporating Fluids and of Some Other Means of Producing Cold' that was published in 'Essays and Observations Physical and Literary Read Before a Society in Edinburgh and Published by Them, vol. II'. Unfortunately for Cullen, despite statements like “the cold that accompanies evaporating fluids could be useful,” he didn't pursue any commercial application. It was left to the American inventor, Oliver Evans, to design the first refrigeration machine, which he did in 1805. Three decades later, in 1834, Jacob Perkins built the first practical refrigerating machine, using ether in a vapour compression cycle.
A name dropping list of Cullen's cronies, peers and pupils includes so many names that are of significance that you cannot fail to be impressed. Think of it this way, though, not that Cullen knew these folks, but that they knew him. They had reason to thank Cullen for the education and instruction he imparted. He had their friendship and respect in return. Enlightenment Scots associated with Cullen include: David Hume and Adam Smith, to both of whom Cullen was physician; Joseph Black and William Hunter, to both of whom he was mentor; John Millar; Adam Ferguson; William Smellie; and Alexander Monro (Primus). Cullen's weel kent students also included several influential Americans, notably Benjamin Rush, signatory to the Declaration of Independence, John Morgan, who founded the Medical School at the College of Philadelphia, the first in the American Colonies.
William Cullen was born in Hamilton, Lanarkshire, on the 15th of April, 1710. Wee Willie attended Hamilton Grammar School, before, in 1726, starting a course at the University of Glasgow. Willie developed an interest in medicine and got himself apprenticed as surgeon apothecary to John Paisley at the University. After that, during 1729, Mr. Cullen was surgeon aboard a merchant vessel trading between London and the West Indies. The next two years Cullen spent in London as assistant apothecary to a Mr. Murray, of Henrietta Street. In 1732, Cullen went back to Scotland, where he established his own general medical practice near Shotts. Between 1733 and 1736, Cullen was also able to study medicine at Edinburgh University and, in 1736, he went back to Hamilton. In 1740, after eight years in private clinical practice, combined with studies in Edinburgh, Cullen was awarded a Doctor of Medicine degree from Glasgow University.
In 1743, Cullen moved to Glasgow, which is where his interest in teaching chemistry was encouraged by Dr. Johnstone, the Professor of Medicine. In 1751, Cullen got Johnstone's job, but, in 1755, he switched to Edinburgh, where, in 1766, he succeeded to the Chair of the Institutes (theory) of Medicine. In 1773, William Cullen became sole Professor of Physic, the position he held until shortly before his death, which occurred in Edinburgh, on the 5th of February, 1790.
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