306 MARCH 20 – Gryffe Advertizer

Next deadline - Wednesday 11th March
Local history
Gryffe Advertizer | www.advertizer.co.uk
John Cuninghame, Laird of Craigends
(1759-1822)
John Cuninghame, 13th Laird of Craigends, inherited Craigends
estate in 1792. In 1800 he married his second wife, Margaret, the
daughter of Sir William Cuninghme-Fairlie of Robertland. John and
Margaret had five sons and six daughters.
His memorial stone in the entrance tower of Kilbarchan old Parish
Church extols his kindness, wisdom, sincerity and his trust in God.
It also makes mention of a protracted and painful illness which he
bore with fortitude.
Despite suffering from frequent debilitating bouts of gout and
arthritis John led an active life. His diary, written from 1814 to
December 1815, provides a detailed account of his life.
John was responsible for the running of Craigends estate. This
involved the organisation of haymaking, harvest-time, sheep
shearing, tree cutting and pruning vines, engaging the molecatcher,
attending cattle fairs in Johnstone. In the winter of 1814,
when the dam at Locher Mill burst its banks, he contracted William
White to inspect the dam and make repairs. He held a regular Rent
Court where he collected rent from his estate tenants. He also had
a substantial income from Granville Estate in Jamaica and lodged
his West-India income in a bank in Paisley.
John was a Justice of the Peace and a Commissioner of Supply
for the County. In this latter capacity he was responsible for
ensuring local roads and tolls were in good order. He had also
a keen interest in a surveying and new building. He visited the
site for Napier’s new house on Milliken Estate and took his eldest
son, Willie, to see George MacFarlane’s plans for his proposed new
house at Clippens.
Religion was important to John, and the family regularly attended
services in both Kilbarchan Church and Houston and Killellan
Church. Margaret was especially friendly with Ann Monteith, the
wife of the Houston minister.
John’s and Margaret’s social circle included the Napiers of Milliken,
the Porterfields of Duchal, the Alexanders of Southbar, the Flemings
of Barochan, the Napiers of Blackstoun and the Maxwells of Pollock.
These family friends dined together, travelling from house to house
by horse and chaise. On the 28th of November, 1815, soon after
the marriage of William Milliken Napier to Elizabeth Stirling of
Kippendavie, John was invited to meet the new bride. He found her
“very agreeable tho’ not such a beauty as I had been led to believe
she was”. The men enjoyed salmon fishing, shooting partridges
and hunting with hounds. John hunted with his friends at Skiff in
Johnstone, Kilmacolm, Barochan Mill, and Formakin Mill.
John had a close involvement in the home life of his children. He
showed great concern when the children had chickenpox and
promptly sent for doctor Pinkerton. He noted in his diary that
Johnnie, aged ten, fell through the ceiling of the coal house, but
thankfully was not badly hurt, and that Lillie fell off a chair and
bruised her eye and cheek. On a visit to Paisley he took his daughter,
Fanny, for a haircut. He also recorded each of the children’s
birthdays and arranged a holiday for them in Largs. His elder boys
were tutored by Mr. Robert Smith, until the 2nd of March, 1815 when
he was ordained as minister of Lochwinnoch Parish Church.
Entries in this unique personal diary ended on 26th December 1815.
John died in 1822 and his eldest son, William, at the age of twentyone,
became the next laird.
© 2020, Helen Calcluth, Renfrewshire Local History Forum
Our next lecture “The Govan Stones” by Stephen T. Driscoll,
Professor of Historical Archaeology, University of Glasgow, will be
held in the McLean Building, Room D137/9, University of the West
of Scotland, on 12th March at 7.30pm. Visitors welcome.
The Last Two Hand Loom Weavers
Sometimes we get really fascinating correspondence here at the
Gryffe Advertizer. A 95-year-old lady by the name of Maisie Belle,
resident of Essex Gardens, South Shields got in touch to tell us
about her Grandfather – Willie Chirrey, the last hand loom weaver
in Bannockburn.
Maisie decided to write to us because she was aware of the
area’s connection to weaving, in particular, Willie Meikle’s cottage
(otherwise known as Weaver’s Cottage) in Kilbarchan. She
described how in 1938 at aged 15, along with her Grandfather, she
visited the Empire Exhibition in Bellahoustan Park.
The Exhibition was a unique event. It was an attempt, perhaps,
after the destruction and calamities of the First World War to
bring a sense of cohesion and national pride back to Britain. The
Exhibition featured 100 pavilions, representing the countries of the
Commonwealth of Nations to advance the interests of the British
Empire.
There she and her grandfather met Willie Meikle at the “Home
Pavilion” where Willie was weaving tartan. Her Grandfather not
at all amused because his loom was more “...cumbersome and
larger.” So Willie Chirrey and Willie Meikle, two of the last hand
loom weavers of Scotland, were together at the Empire Exhibition
and Maisy was able to retell this wonderful memory to us 82 years
later.
Maisy wrote a poem in memory of her Grandfather which is also
held by a Students’ Information Centre in Edinburgh for the Hand
Loom Trade:
At five o’clock his day began.
Of course he was a wonderful man.
A cup of tea and a buttered bat;
A puff of his pipe, while he sat
Then off to work before the lark.
Out of the house, and into the dark.
The only light came from the gas
But his step was firm as we heard him pass.
He wove tartan for troops in the castle;
Lengths of Black Watch without any hassle.
Then he wove blankets as soft as snow
For this is how the weaving should go.
Back then for dinner, at his own pace
I think you can guess it wasn’t a race.
Down the hill and back to the loom,
As one o’clock struck in the afternoon.
A friend wove the spinning as he wove the tweed
In agreeable silence, but both paying heed
As the afternoon light began to fade.
Then they would stop and talk of their trade.
You would find him nightly working the loom
But once on a wintry, cold afternoon
This old man became silent. All became still.
Now when I’m looking up in the clouds
I fancy I’m seeing him there with the crowds
Weaving great patterns up in the sky
Perhaps I will join him, yes, bye and bye.
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