If you know the history

 

If you know the history

I’m sure the throngs of mostly young Celtic Supporters who flooded the area around Glasgow Cross to celebrate Celtic’s championship last weekend were blissfully unaware of the history which surrounds that part of Glasgow. The traditional Mercat cross, the small octagonal building which some more athletic Celtic fans scaled on Saturday, was once at the heart of Glasgow’s medieval market area and was, in common with similar buildings in other towns, the symbolic centre of the city. The actual building, despite being described as a national treasure by some, is in fact a 1930 replica of a much older building demolished by the city fathers in 1659.

Close to the Mercat building, was the sight of the gallows where St John Ogilvie was martyred for his faith in March 1615. Ogilvie was an undercover Jesuit Priest who returned to Scotland to minister to the few Catholics left after the reformation. He refused to name the secret Catholics he visited despite being tortured and kept awake for days by being jabbed by daggers. During his trial, he refused to acknowledge the King’s supremacy on religious matters, saying would, ‘ no more acknowledge him than an old hat.’ His last words as they hanged him in public were, ‘If there are any hidden Catholics, let them pray for me but the prayers of heretics I will not have.’ As he swung out to meet his maker, he cast his rosary into the watching crowd. According to legend, the man who caught it became a devout Catholic.

To the south of the Mercat Cross is the Saltmarket area, which in the mid-19^th century this was known as District 14 and was one of the most deplorable slums in Europe. Into the ramshackle, overcrowded and insanitary dwellings of District 14, unscrupulous landlords crammed thousands of migrant Irish and many Scots cleared from the Highlands. One history book describes the area with the following words…..  ‘District 14 was a human cesspit, a concentration camp of filth and disease.’ Those drinking and cavorting in the spring sunshine last week would on the whole have been unaware of the misery of many of their forebears endured just a few hundred yards away.

Many of the building in the Trongate and Glasgow Cross area would have been familiar to Brother Walfrid, Celtic’s founding father. What would he have made of the thousands of Celtic fans singing their victory songs and cavorting around the Mercat building? Well, he was a man of his time and would doubtless have frowned upon the amount of drinking going on and some of the more uncouth behaviour. Many Victorian clergymen were keen that their people abstained from alcohol as drunkenness reflected badly on their community and could be a real scourge in some communities. Indeed, the problems caused by alcohol in the Irish community in Victorian Glasgow were such that the Police vehicles sent to deal with drunks were often called ‘Paddy wagons.’ There were big temperance movements in all the main churches in the 19^th century and often a wagon with a band on it would tour poorer areas drumming up interest in abstaining from drink. Thus, the term, ‘jumping on the bandwagon’ was first coined.

The good Brother might also be disappointed that so many have abandoned the faith which he and so many others took great solace in. To be a Catholic in Victorian Britain, was to be an outsider. Distrust of Catholicism was widespread in the UK and in more Calvinistic countries like Scotland, the old faith was considered tantamount to superstition and actively discriminated against. For the poor and often despised Irish flooding into Scotland’s industrial cities in the wake of the great hunger, the faith they held was an important part of their identity and a source of comfort to some in their hard lives.

Evangelical groups were very active seeking to proselytise the new arrivals in cities like Glasgow and would, ironically, offer soup after their services to poor Catholics. Celtic FC club was, in part set up to give the Catholic community the means to feed their own people and prevent them being converted away from their faith as many were during the dark days of An Gorta Mor in Ireland.

Brother Walfrid would be satisfied that his people had risen from the wretched conditions of 150 years ago to take their place in every level and strata of Scottish society. The progeny of those migrants in nineteenth century Glasgow used education to improve themselves and make better lives for their children and grandchildren. If they are still more likely to live in areas of deprivation than the general population, it is at least in greatly improved conditions than those Walfrid would have seen during his time in Glasgow.

The success of his club would have delighted him too. Its magnificent stadium stands like a beacon in the east end of the city. A reminder that a marginalised community overcame many obstacles to take its place in society. He’d be satisfied too that it continues its charitable work and has through its Foundation raised millions of pounds for worthy causes. He might also smile to see that many, many supporters of Celtic come from out-with the founding community. The very name ‘Celtic’ (Which he pronounced ‘Keltic’) was symbolic of the common heritage the Irish and Scots shared and his club was, he hoped, a bridge to help the Irish assimilate into Scottish society more successfully. That many of that Scottish community with no Irish heritage are avid supporters of his club would delight him. As would the fact that fans who come from Italian, Polish, Asian and many other backgrounds choose to call Celtic their club.

Scottish society has changed for the better in so many ways since Walfrid launched Celtic in the late Victorian era. Healthcare, housing, social security and education have all improved dramatically and life expectancy has increased greatly. In 1888, just over 10,000 people were recorded as having died in Glasgow. Of those around 50% were children under 5 years of age. Thankfully the conditions which made this tragedy happen have been swept away. One report into the contrast in the lives of Glasgow’s poor and more affluent people stated that…

‘Everyday experience, regardless of income, was shaped by ill-health. Life for the poor in overcrowded, industrial cities such as Glasgow was especially likely to be influenced by sickness and early death. Indeed, between the 1820s and 1830s the average age of death in Glasgow, already low at about 42 years for men and 45 for women, fell by about five years. It only recovered to early 19th century levels in the 1880s, when killer diseases such as typhus were finally brought under control. Poor nutrition led to chronic states of physical inefficiency among the working population. A School Board survey of 1906 revealed that a 14-year-old boy living in a poor area of Glasgow was, on average, 4 inches shorter than a similar-aged child from the city's West End. If you walked through the busy streets of this teeming city, the rich were easily differentiated from the poor because they were tall.’

Walfrid would be satisfied that so much has changed for the better since his time and would perhaps have a wry smile as he saw his club still so successful 134 years after it played its first match.

As the victory songs of Celtic supporters echoed off the walls of the Trongate, the words ‘and if you know the history’ were perhaps most poignant. The migrant Irish of 160 years ago were now Scots. Proud of their roots but at home in their native city. It has been quite a journey, but they made it.