The shades of night were coming on when, after walking a few miles, we
saw an old man standing at the garden gate of a very small cottage by
the wayside, who told us he was an old sailor and that Liverpool had
been his port, from which he had taken his first voyage in 1814. He
could remember Birkenhead and that side of the River Mersey when there
was only one house, and that a farm from which he used to fetch
buttermilk, and when there was only one dock in Liverpool--the Prince's.
We thought what a contrast the old man would find if he were to visit
that neighbourhood now! He told us of a place near by named Norwood,
where were the remains of an old castle of Prince Charlie's time, with
some arches and underground passages, but it was now too dark to see
them. We proceeded towards Camelon, with the great ironworks of Carron
illuminating the sky to our left, and finally arrived at Falkirk. Here,
in reply to our question, a sergeant of police recommended us to stay
the night at the "Swan Inn," kept by a widow, a native of Inverness,
where we were made very comfortable. After our supper of bread and milk,
we began to take off our boots to prepare for bed, but we were requested
to keep them on as our bedroom was outside! We followed our leader along
the yard at the back of the inn and up a flight of stone steps, at the
top of which we were ushered into a comfortable bedroom containing three
beds, any or all of which, we were informed, were at our service.
Pages:
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304