About Linlithgow

From "A New Description of the Shyres of Lothian and Linlitquo”,
by Timothy Pont, circa 1610.

My fourth-great-grandfather Joseph Greenock lived in Linlithgow, the principal town of the county of West Lothian in Scotland.

Linlithgow sits between Edinburgh and Glasgow. In the old Celtic language used in Scotland before Gaelic the name means “Lake in the Damp Hollow”. The name refers to the lake that forms the town’s northern border, which today has the reduplicative name Linlithgow Loch. The town itself was originally referred to as just Lithgow, and is the source of that surname.

Linlithgow Coat of Arms

An alternative story is based on a false Gaelic etymology that gives it the elements “lake black hound”. This goes back to a legend of a man sentenced to starve on an island in the lake. His black greyhound loyally swam to the island daily to bring his master food, so they chained up the dog, too. This legend informs the burgh’s coat of arms, and explains the name of the local pub, The Black Bitch.

The settlement grew up around a Royal Manor as a burgh, essentially a sort of medieval industrial park. In Scotland a burgh was a settlement for craftsmen and merchants, who didn’t fit well into the prevailing feudal economic structure that was focused on working the land. Burghs were more urbanized, trade-oriented areas that provided an environment for craftsmen and merchants to work, and in return provided tax revenues for the burgh holder. In the case of Linlithgow, the local crafts centered around converting the cows from the surrounding countryside into things like leather and shoes. Linlithgow was granted its charter as a Royal Burgh in 1388.

The manor at Linlithgow was eventually developed into a grand Royal Palace. King James V of Scotland was born there, as was his daughter, later known as Mary Queen of Scots. Once Mary’s son took the royal court to England the palace began a slow decline, and in 1746 the Army of Great Britain burned the palace on their way to confront the Jacobites in the Battle of Falkirk Muir. Today the ruins are maintained as a tourist attraction.

Linlithgow was a linear town, built along the historical road that connects Edinburgh to Stirling, Perth and Inverness. In Linlithgow this forms the High Road, running East/West along the lakeshore. By the time of Joseph and Elizabeth Greenock, tanneries were built along the North side of the road, backing onto the lake so they could use its water in their work.

Linlithgow in 1856

The road that passed through Linlithgow was a turnpike, collecting tolls on the value of goods going between Edinburgh and Falkirk. When the Greenocks arrived back in Linlithgow the Falkirk to Edinburgh canal had recently opened on the south side of the town, running past the Gowan Stank Glue Works. The town sued the canal to protect its traditional tolls, but after a lengthy and costly effort they lost their suit. The advantage of the town’s centrality was further diminished when the railroad opened up in 1842. It’s worth noting that all of Joseph and Elizabeth’s children moved from Linlithgow to Glasgow shortly afterward.

Today that same railroad makes Linlithgow a commuter suburb of Edinburgh (20 miles to the east), Glasgow (30 miles to the west) and Stirling (18 miles to the northwest). Is that a reasonable commuting distance? Well, it's closer to any of them than I am to my office.

Linlithgow in 1820

Lion Well Wynd, the future home of Joseph and Elizabeth Greenock,
in John Wood’s 1820 map.

In the 1820s a cartographer named John Wood produced Wood’s Town Atlas, which surveyed many towns in Scotland, including Linlithgow. His map included not only the names of all the property owners, but also local points of interest and historical sites like the place where James Hamilton assassinated the Scottish Regent in 1570.

In 1820, Joseph and Elizabeth Greenock were probably in Ireland, on garrison duty with the 25th Regiment of Foot. Their son John was born there in about 1819, and their son Robert in about 1822. But Joseph was born in Linlithgow, so it would seem reasonable to see some relatives on this map. I haven’t found any Greenocks, but there are two Greenoaks.

But perhaps folks like the Greenocks shouldn’t be expected to appear at all. The names on this map may be property owners as opposed to residents; I’m not sure. In this period it would have been unusual for ordinary folks like the Greenocks to own property -- most families in Scotland rented their homes and farms.

The map of Linlithgow is available here: https://maps.nls.uk/view/74400047. Wood also wrote a companion book with a short and charming description of the town.

Linlithgow in 1845

“A New Statistical Account of Scotland”, published in 1845, describes localities across Scotland with an eye toward history, geography and the economy. The entry on Linlithgow is written by The Reverend Andrew Bell, the local minister. Reverend Bell makes some interesting observations on the shoemaking trade in 1845:

In Linlithgow there were 24 master boot and shoemakers employing 276 journeymen and 48 apprentices.
Journeymen made 10s per week. I think that means 10 shillings, or half a pound. That’s probably between $50 and $100 a week in today's money.
There was a temporary depression in shoemaking some time back, but the trade has revived.

About Linlithgow generally, he says:

There are no nobility, and but few individuals of independent fortune, residing in the parish. The people are in no respect remarkable for personal qualities. The language in common use is the ordinary dialect of the Lowlands.

“In no respect remarkable”? Sez you, Andy. The Good Reverend goes on to mention a special tradition of Linlithgow:

The only custom which may be mentioned as peculiar to the parish is the annual procession of the magistrates, council, members of the various corporations, and others, termed the “Riding their Marches.” They visit the village of Linlithgow Bridge and Blackness, of which the town is the superior; and at the place last named, a court is held by the provost. On the return of the procession to the town, the evening is passed in festivity. Though the custom might at one time have been necessary, it is now one which would “be more honoured in the breach, than in the observance.”

Fun guy, that Reverend Bell. The term “marches” refers to a border. Apparently the event originated in an annual inspection of the burgh’s borders, within which the townspeople held particular privileges. As a local festival it continues to the present day (see LinlithgowMarches.org).

Linlithgow in 2222

One of the most famous children of Linlithgow was (or will be?) Montgomery “Scotty” Scott, the Chief Engineer of the Starship Enterprise.

Scotty’s birthplace was never mentioned in the original Star Trek series, but in the 1988 novel Vulcan Glory, the original series author D.C. Fontana explicitly said he was born in Linlithgow. Apparently James Doohan, the Canadian actor who originally played Scotty, supported the notion.

So in 2007, despite some good-natured rivalry from Aberdeen and Edinburgh, the Linlithgow Museum put up a “Future Heritage” plaque celebrating Scotty’s birth in 2222.

The Gentle Craft

Joseph Greenock was a shoemaker in a town full of shoemakers, so let’s learn about the trade.

First of all, he was indeed a shoemaker -- that’s how his occupation was described when he enlisted in the military in 1808, and how it was listed in the 1841 Census. He could perhaps have been called a cordwainer or cordwiner, terms normally reserved for makers of high-end shoes made from the fine leather of Cordova, Spain. In Scotland shoemakers were also called souters, derived from Latin suter, a shoemaker, related to the word “sew”. But he wasn’t a cobbler, which apparently refers to the repair of shoes, rather than their manufacture.

Joseph’s career spanned a period when the industrial revolution transformed the nature of the shoemaker’s trade. When he joined the army at age 18 he was already described as a shoemaker, so he may have already completed his 4 to 7 year apprenticeship under a master, and become a journeyman. This would all be under the auspices of the Linlithgow Incorporation of Shoemakers, the local guild responsible for regulating the trade. The guild conducted formal essays, or tests that allowed a shoemaker to progress from apprentice to journeyman to master. The tests would be quite specific, and you were not allowed to make a type of shoe unless you had been specifically qualified for it. The guild also set the wages paid by a master to his journeymen and apprentices.

Linlithgow Incorporation of
Shoemakers Building

Guilds protected the livelihood of their members. They would make specific rulings, like whether the right to make holsters should fall to the shoemakers or the saddlers. You can imagine people making arguments about how holsters were “just shoes for guns, after all”, but in Linlithgow the decision went to the saddlers. Another example is that you couldn’t become a member of the Merchant’s Guild unless you foreswore to work with your hands, so you wouldn’t compete with the trades. And needless to say, you couldn’t make shoes for sale without becoming a member of the guild in the first place.

In Linlithgow the Incorporation of Shoemakers was housed in a building in the High Street. The 19th century building that would have been familiar to Joseph Greenock still stands.

St. Crispin and St. Crispinian

In the 19th Century, the highly regulated trades were increasingly confronted by more mobile workers and the breakdown of historical privileges. Over time it was easy for the local trade to grow imbalanced, and if there were too many masters then journeymen would have less opportunity to progress. Journeymen were confronted with a life of being wage-earners, not independent craftsmen. Indeed the craftwork that defined shoemaking in Joseph Greenock’s early years would become dominated first by masters with many journeymen, and then later in the 19th Century by companies with many employees, often working in lower-skilled factory settings.

As journeymen and their masters increasingly adopted a worker/employer relationship, journeymen began to associate in what would later be called Friendly Societies. These societies helped craftsmen endure the hardships of capitalism with social and financial aid.

For shoemakers, this need was met by the Royal St. Crispin Society. Tradition has it that St. Crispin and St. Crispinian were twin brothers born to noble but unimaginative parents in the 3rd century. They fled Rome to escape persecution for their Christian beliefs, taking up shoemaking in Siossons, France. They were ultimately tortured and beheaded on October 25th, 286. This became their feast day, which Shakespeare later associated with the Battle of Agincourt.

The Royal St. Crispin Society was formed in 1817 in Edinburgh, and in 1823 Linlithgow established Lodge Number 3. Apparently the Royal St. Crispin Society was not a Friendly Society strictly speaking; Friendly Societies were regulated, and the Royal St. Crispin Society was not included. But it had similar features in the sense that it met in taverns or public halls, emphasized ritual and brotherhood, and adopted some of the trappings of freemasonry. And before you harken back to the good ol’ days when welfare was a private affair, these societies also shared a characteristic weakness of finances and a perpetual struggle for membership.

Shoemaking was sometimes referred to as The Gentle Craft, usually in association with Crispin and Crispinian. Some attribute it to the straightforward idea that shoemaking consists of cutting and sewing, quiet activities that encouraged conversation among shoemakers. Others say it goes back to the earlier sense of “gentle” embodied in “gentlemen”, and refers to the twin’s noble birth. In any case, I think cows might have another opinion.

Notes on Our Genealogy

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