Ports of Call: Scotland

Our Ports of Call in Scotland were Greenock and Invergordon.

The Castle of Newark actually is in Greenock, but regrettably one had to choose between a visit to Glasgow and a visit to Newark.  We therefore only saw the exterior.

Newark Castle was built by George Maxwell in the 15th century and is virtually intact.  It was enlarged in the 16th century by his descendant Patrick Maxwell.    Patrick is infamous in local history for having murdered two of his neighbours and having beaten his wife of 44 years who bore him 16 children.

The oldest section of the castle is a tower with a gatehouse built soon after the foundations were laid in 1478.

Greenock deserves far more than a single photograph and a small footnote in my journal, but alas... I had only the briefest glimpses of this port.

From Greenock, we took a coach to Glasgow.

St. Mungo is the Patron Saint of Glasgow.  The High Kirk of Glasgow is the site of his burial and indeed, his tomb is in the very centre of the crypt.  A festival is held for him each year.

St. Mungo was one of those semi-miraculous infants who was born of a noblewoman who could not explain how she, as an unmarried supposed virgin, could become pregnant.  She therefore set the child adrift in a basket, casket or small boat.  There are many such instances both in myth and in 'history' from Moses to Sargon, Bacchus in some traditions, Ing and the founders of Roma, Romulus and Remus.  All of these abandoned children became famous and in many cases, founded religions, dynasties or otherwise changed the course of history.

St. Mungo actually had another name, which was Kentigern or Cuntotigernos, derived from the words for 'hound' (Cun) and Prince (Tigerno).   Hounds in Celtic myth tend to be connected with the underworld and the fact that the child should have died but was washed ashore miraculously to live is a sort of rebirth which originally may have involved a descent into the underworld.    The miracles that are associated with Mungo are enshrined in a little poem:

'Here is the bird that never flew;
Here is the tree that never grew;
Here is the bell that never rang;
Here is the fish than never swam.'

The bird was a Robin, very much a part of old Celtic lore and it is said that Mungo restored it to life after it had been killed.  (The old rites of the New Year sometimes involved the death of a Robin, Sparrow or Wren.  The fish in question is a Salmon, ancient Celtic symbol of rebirth and wisdom. 

There is an old nursery rhyme that deals with the death of Cock Robin and obviously incorporates many of the ancient mysteries of the British Isles:

'Who killed Cock Robin?

'I,' said the Sparrow,
'With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.'

'Who saw him die?'

'I,' said the Fly,
'With my little Eye,
I saw him die.'

'Who caught his blood?'

'I,' said the Fish,
'With my little dish,
I caught his blood.'

'Who'll make the shroud?'

'I,' said the Beetle,
'With my thread and needle,
I'll make the shroud.'

'Who'll dig his grave?

'I,' said the Owl,
'With my pick and shovel,
I'll dig his grave.'

'Who'll be the Parson?

'I,' said the Rook,
'With my little book,
I'll be the parson.'

'Who'll be the clerk?

'I,' said the Lark,
'If it's not in the dark,
I'll be the clerk.'

'Who'll carry the link?

'I,' said the Linnet,
I'll fetch it in a minute.
I'll carry the link.'

'Who'll be the chief mourner?

'I,' said the Dove,
I'll mourn for my love.
I'll be the chief mourner.'

'Who'll carry the coffin?

'I,' said the Kite,
If it's not through the night,
I'll carry the coffin.'

'Who'll bear the pall?

'We,' said the Wren,
'Both the cock and hen,
We'll bear the pall.'

'Who'll sing a psalm?

'I,' said the Thrush,
'As she sat on a bush,
I'll sing a psalm.'

'Who'll toll the bell?

'I,' said the Bull,
'Because I can pull,
I'll toll the bell.'

All the birds of the air
Fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.'

Like so many ancient mystery texts relegated to 'nursery rhymes', the poem speaks of a dark rite of Sacrifice that predates Christianity.  'Cock Robin' was the King of Summer and the Wren was the King of Winter.   In fact, in some rural areas in England, the rite of the 'Hunting of the Wren' still occurred in the 20th century at the time of the Winter Solstice or more particularly on Boxing Day.
It was one of the ancient rites of the Wheel of the Year wherein the Winter had to die in order to make way for the rule of Summer.

In ancient Egypt, the annual death of Osiris at the hands of Set was enshrined in similar rites.  In ancient cultures throughout the world, a Bird was symbol of the Soul.   Thus, the business with the resurrection of the Robin at the hands of St. Mungo no doubt was a garbled form of an ancient pagan mystery.  'Mungo' actually is not a real name but a term of endearment that means 'My dear one.'  'The Beloved' is a term given to the ancient divine sacrificial victim in many different civilisations.

Whatever the truth about St. Mungo and indeed, much of his 'history' probably is taken from various ancient popular myths, he became the patron of Glasgow and even now is beloved by the people of Glasgow.

Above is a photograph of the Tomb of St. Mungo in the crypt of the Cathedral in Glasgow.

The grounds of the Cathedral as well as a Necropolis on a hill that overlooks the entire City, contain some extraordinarily beautiful memorials and, in the month of May, in all the plants, flowers and trees, give eloquent promise of the endurance of Life in the presence of Death.

One of the most beautiful pathways led to a bridge and then ultimately to a marvelous Romantic Necropolis on top of a mountain in Glasgow.

As always at any port visit on the Queen Mary 2, there was little time to explore.  I had to content myself with a view of the distant monuments.  Still, it was a glorious landscape!

Undoubtedly, part of the charm of the Cathedral area was the fact that flowers and trees were in their glory of springtime blossoming of May.