Village life continued in its quiet way. Like the farm-hands and the gardeners and hedgers, tradesmen worked hard. On the brae in front of his old home (only the cottage’s foundations remain) at the west end of Jackson’s Lands (the Barracks), Mr Jim Lennox, joiner and cabinet-maker, made coffins. Laboriously and much to the fascination of the village lads, he cut the wooden panels, heaving and sighing while he worked at his sawpit there. He made a sound every few breaths that intrigued young Jamieson and his pals: it was like “co-oo-och” the ch sounded at the back of the throat as in “loch”. From then on, he was known as Cooch Lennox. It was the perfect description, although - and Mr Jamieson was careful to emphasise - you mustn’t say it to his face! Jim Lennox did well in his business and built himself and his family Bonnyton the fine villa at the top of Windlaw Road, living in part of it and renting out some of the other rooms.
Football was another of the youngsters’ recreations. In 1908, they founded the Carmunnock Amateurs. In the season 1908-09 the Office Bearers were: Vice President, Mr. D. Craig; Secretary, Mr. Wm. L. Low; Match Secretary, Mr. A. Tagg and Treasurer, Mr. J. Gray. Then after the Great War a new team of Amateurs was formed. They rented a field beside Picketlaw Farm, an old Corporation tramcar minus its wheels served as a changing room before they built a proper pavilion, training in football tactics and team business was done in Taggs’ back shop, and the team did well in its Amateur League matches. Later they had to move up to Crofthill Park, playing there until the late 1930s. On cold winter days, curling at the Pond up on the braes was another popular sport.
The bee boles in front of Bankhead Farmhouse.
Towards the end of the 1914-18 War they could buy refreshing lemonade at Mrs Nell McNiven’s in the 1798 cottage tenement opposite the Boghead Inn. Entered from the close in the early days, the tiny shop (where 2 Kirk Road is now) was warmed by a big open fire and from the 1920s Nell (who lived in the rest of the tenement’s downstairs rooms, her son Jim and his wife Rita upstairs) made delicious home-made toffee and sold sweets and the crispest and tastiest of biscuits.
The biscuits sold so well that one day Macfarlane & Lang, the makers, sent their big car for her and treated her to a VIP tour of their factory. Her shop came to be called The Cyclists’ Rest, doing a good trade for villagers of all ages as well as for visitors come up the hill for a day’s outing in the clean fresh air. In summer they sat at tables in the tiny back garden - near the hen-yard and Jim’s dog kennels.
Everyone knew about Nell McNiven’s delicious home-made ice cream, frozen among chunks of ice brought from town. It was made from her own recipe with eggs in it and the mixture was churned in a barrel along with some of the ice until it was a smooth cream. Friends took turns of cawing the handle every weekend when she made a batch of it; and in later years when Rita took over the shop (entered now from a street door where the close had been), Sam Little and other willing hands regularly found time to help.
But McNivens’ shop had to compete with the Craigenputtock Tearoom, which stood on its triangle of ground between the crossroads and Rowan Bank. Mrs Isa McVey, following her mother Grannie MacGregor (of Jackson’s Lands) sold teas there and delicious cool drinks, and she too made her own ice cream. Folk argued whose make was the best. Even when the Craigenputtock was run by Mrs Gray and sold Hoods’ ice cream, Rita’s excellent recipe continued in popularity.
Across from there was the Boghead Inn for those seeking stronger refreshment; and now it too had a telephone, the only one besides the one in Taggs’ village shop - apart that is from The Craigs and such like. Uncle Ste’en Young the carrier, lived with his sister who ran the Boghead’s drinking house till her daughter Mirren, Ste’en’s niece, took over. As proprietress, tall, dignified and neat-looking, Mirren kept strict but kindly order in her drinking house. She knew all the Inn’s regular customers and no one was allowed to take advantage of her rules. If they dared, she would stand over them to her full height and coldly rebuke them, and they were seldom cheeky again! Mirren Young, who married and became Mrs MacDougall, was highly respected. In 1922 Mr. Fairley who had lived in The Hut on Busby Road, became the publican.
Harpers’ shop in the old cottage stood out on the other corner in front of the Clason Free Church, the shopkeeper’s house above the store. One day when Mrs Harper was ill in bed upstairs, Bessie Barker aged about 9 or 10, originally from Yorkshire and who lived with her family first at Sunnyside and then in a cottage at The Beeches, was sent to help at the counter. Going messages for her mother or running out to buy something at one of the tiny shops in people’s houses was one thing, old Mrs Matthews till lately of Hillcrest remembered. But to young Bessie in her clean white button-at-the-back starched pinafore, helping in Harper’s musty grocer’s shop among all the mouldering meat pies, big sacks of grain, the assorted hardware and huge barrels of oil and paraffin, was terrifying! In those days shops kept open late into the evening - till 8 o’clock on weekdays and even till 10 pm on Saturdays - and shopkeepers could never be ill for long!
In the 3-storey tenement on the other side of Main Street, Miss Lamont kept her general grocer’s shop. They say that at various stages through the centuries and up until World War 1, soldiers were sometimes billeted in this building. Some remind us that this was the real barracks. But now sometimes tramps slept in a little vacant room near the back door. Calling in at Windlaw Farm they could get a shilling from Mr. William Fleming, tenant there, who was the district’s Poor Law and Census Returns Officer as well as Registrar of Births, Marriages and Deaths. This considerable amount of money, he hoped, would send them happily down towards Glasgow. But if that failed and they came up to the village instead, they could knock on the tall old building’s door and ask to get a bed for the night - all for a penny. They lodged at Jackson’s Lands too and would keep the water hot in the outhouse boiler for Grannie MacGregor’s washing next day.
Leats’ the art-goods people had a little shop above The Cathkin Rest, and further up Kirk Road at Pathhead, Grannie Craig’s little shop in her cottage stocked all sorts of things. Villagers rarely passed her door without calling in to buy this or that - home-baking, sweets, lemonade, cigarettes or tobacco or such things as cups and saucers, wool and threads, knitting needles or whatever - and they’d take time to catch up on the gossip too. Old Mrs Helen Craig had been one of the washerwomen, working in her lean-to washing-house and ironing for hours in her kitchen. Her daughter-in-law in the cottage next door helped her: Catherine from Greenock had come in 1906 to be cook to the Dempsters of Craigmiln House on Busby Road, and married their gardener Robert Craig. (Marshall Lambie of Windlaw Road is their grandson and Mrs Mae (Craig) Borthwick of Stuart Road is their niece.)
In addition to the villagers’ traditional work, there were other ways of earning a living by this time. Whereas men could get jobs as gardeners, butlers, man-servants, grooms or stable-lads, women in Carmunnock and from much further afield were employed as cooks, nannies, lady’s maids and other domestic servants in the big houses, learning new ways and about a very different level of living.
Young girls new to the district were a bright, cheerful addition to the community, attracting lively attention from local lads. Four sisters from the west coast island of Islay, for instance, married local young men. One of the Islay girls became the mother of Mr. Tom Crawford (of The Hut on Busby Road) and his brother Johnnie of the joinery family, another sister was the mother of the late Mr. Arthur Reid (of Greenside) and his brothers, and the youngest was the mother of Miss Cathie Close (of Hillcrest).
The Browns’ coachman Jackson lived in lower Pathhead, upstairs in Wellside Cottage close to Mattha’s Well. In line with the cottage and stables was the bothy under the trees, and in it lived Geordie MacKechnie newly discharged from the Cameron Highlanders on health grounds. On winter nights owls hooted eerily in the trees and the old soldier - a likeable character - reminisced alone at his fireside. No wonder he called his wee one-roomed bothy home the Hoolets’ Nest. Old Geordie became the school’s janitor for a time and years after Geordie died, Sandy’s father Mr. Jamieson took on the job.
Opposite Grannie and Catherine Craig’s cottages on Pathhead, a gatehouse or lodge led to Crag Lodge which was originally built by the Browns for a relative of theirs and was much later occupied by their son and his wife. First lived in by a widower Mr. Hart, then by the ship-owning family called Workman, next was a German called Herr Kratt - and inevitably folk called him kraute behind his back! For a time during the 1914-18 War, this quite innocent man was hounded by the authorities who wanted to intern him for the duration. At long last they left him in peace until hostilities ceased.
He wasn’t the only one to receive the cold shoulder in those bitter First World War years. Archie Tagg of the village shop and Post Office at the top of Busby Road was of German origin and a Swiss gentleman lived in one of the houses in Rowanbank. Exaggerated stories and suspicious gossip about them spread unkindly from time to time, while our own countrymen were in awful danger fighting in the trenches in France.
But there is a more exciting picture of that War. Pilots testing the famous Sopwith Camel aircraft, newly built or repaired at Weirs’ of Cathcart, were frequently seen from Carmunnock flying over the area beyond Mid Netherton farm.
There’s a picture that showed appreciation too. When contingents of soldiers were in training, encamped on the Cathkin Braes, route marches regularly brought them down through Carmunnock. On these days news of their coming spread well in advance: the sound of their tackety boots and the men whistling and singing as they marched could be clearly heard a long way off. The villagers were ready: lined along Main Street they waited with baskets of fruit, tea and cake, lemonade and cigarettes. Officers and sergeants halted the parade, rifles were laid down, packs were dropped and the men allowed to rest and enjoy welcome refreshments and friendly chat. After all, the Carmunnock folk said, next week these boys might be sent to the battle-fronts in Europe; it might be years before they came home again; some might be wounded; some might never return.