The ex-mining town of Cardenden lies in Central Fife. My dad Ian Fraser was born here in 1942 before moving up the road to Lochgelly, aged five. My mother Anne Howieson grew up in Cardenden, although she was born in 1945 at Forth Park Maternity Hospital, Kirkcaldy. Encompassed by the Parish of Auchterderran, Cardenden became the official name of a collection of smaller settlements in 1848 when the railway arrived. To this day, trains shuttle between Cardenden and Edinburgh on the Fife Circle line. Throughout my childhood, we came down from Lochgelly to visit my maternal grandmother every Saturday. Dad would be working on the sports desk at the Edinburgh Evening News and Mum took me and my two siblings to Cardenden. Gran lived at 83 Derran Drive, opposite St Ninian's Primary School.
I drove past the site of Bowhill Colliery as I entered the town. My grandfather David Howieson worked here but unfortunately I never met him. He was born at the tail end of 1899 with Queen Victoria still on the throne and passed away on Hogmanay 1969, two years before I came into the world. The pit closed in 1965 but I remember the bath house and canteen buildings still standing next to the main road. New housing has now been erected but a coal wagon and winding wheel have been mounted on the grass to commemorate the industrial past. A plaque reminds us of the dangerous nature of mining. Over 300 men were killed at Bowhill during its 70 years of operation - including 10 deaths on a single day in 1931 following an explosion. Safety standards obviously improved greatly as the 20th century wore on but casualties by no means ceased. Those who yearn for the past would do well to remember this. A wash plant existed above ground for a couple of decades after the pit closure but this would have employed far fewer workers than actual mining. Coal was brought in by rail for processing via the short branch line that had served the colliery and neighbouring pits at Glencraig and Brighills (also lost in the late 60s). I parked by the swimming pool in the middle of Bowhill, which is basically the central part of Cardenden and locals still use this name today. As a primary school pupil at Lochgelly West, our class was bussed down to Bowhill Pool for swimming lessons. I got to the point where I was just about able to do the breast stroke, but not quite there. Then the block of tuition came to an end. Our regular classroom teacher was Cardenden man Charlie Kennedy, who had previously been a miner. He recognised that I and a few others just required a couple of additional lessons and volunteered to undertake this in his own time. Such a procedure would no doubt require multiple risk assessments if carried out today. Back then we simply hopped on the Kirkcaldy bus after school and rendezvoused with Mr Kennedy in the pool at the agreed hour. Much simpler times. The extra practice proved successful and - 40 years later - the breast stroke remains the only one in my armoury, but it's all I need. Not only did old Charlie get me floating, he also imparted a life-long love of Robert Burns poetry and songs. I even won third prize in a recital competition for attempting the whole of Tam o' Shanter. No mean feat! Anyway, I headed down the main road, past the junction with Derran Drive, the street where my gran Annie Howieson (known as Nan) lived. I've been up for a look at her old house a few times over the years and didn't feel the need to do so today. The thing that always strikes me is the number of cars lining the street. When I played there as a kid, a passing vehicle was an infrequent event. Gran died in 1990 at the age of 77. She suffered a sudden heart attack while walking home from the bus stop. Dead before she hit the ground, according to the doctor. Her maiden name was Harvey and the family had moved through to Fife from Stirlingshire in the early 1920s.
I continued past Wallsgreen Park, which used to flood when the adjacent River Ore burst its banks after a spell of heavy rain. Past the location of the old petrol garage (Robertson's?) where my great Auntie Molly was the attendant. I also noticed the hut-style building that used to house June's barber shop. She was a friend of my dad and we went there for haircuts when I was a nipper. I would play with the box of toy cars while the old man was in the chair and June always sent me away with a 5p coin in my pocket. The big old fashioned shilling, not the shirt button sized shrapnel of today. I was heading for "The Den" - a steep wooded gorge channelling the local burn. The plan was to follow the path out of town and under the A92 dual carriageway. Two important pieces of heritage were apparently situated here - the location of Scotland's last pistol dual and the remains of Carden Tower. I diverged from the main road to hook up with the Den path. This took me by the site of Burnside Cottage where my dad's maternal grandparents (family name Cullen) lived until the 1950s. The area is now grassy parkland. I ducked under the railway viaduct and walked high above the water upstream, with spruce trees towering high above me, noting with dismay the household rubbish that had been tipped over the wall on the opposite side. There does seem to be a greater public awareness of illegal dumping these days but I suppose you'll always get lazy people who have no scruples about scarring their own countryside in this manner. Modern Cardenden grew around the mining industry and the railway in the mid-19th century but farming communities have existed in the area since time immemorial. I walked below the weighty concrete bridge carrying the A92 across the Den. I remember this section - often referred to as the Fife Regional Road - opening in 1983. It allowed traffic en route to Kirkcaldy and Glenrothes to bypass Cowdenbeath, Lochgelly and Cardenden. On the other side of the dual carriageway I found a set of wooden steps taking me up to the cairn marking the approximate site of the 1826 duel, which took place at Cardenbarns Farm.
The dispute centred around the terms of a bank loan. Financial agent (and retired lieutenant) George Morgan and linen merchant David Landale were at loggerheads over the issue and - following an altercation on Kirkcaldy High Street - agreed to meet for a duel at dawn. It has been suggested Morgan may have provoked Landale into demanding a duel. Morgan was a former army officer and there is no evidence of Landale ever having fired a gun in his life. In fact the novice had to travel to Edinburgh to source a suitable weapon. Tellingly, he also put his affairs in order the day before the confrontation. At the showdown, the men stood 12 paces apart and fired simultaneously upon command. Morgan staggered and slumped to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth, fatally wounded. Incredibly, the inexperienced Landale had won. One theory for the unexpected result is that Landale had purchased percussion-fired pistols which were much more reliable than the flintlock devices that Morgan favoured. The victor immediately fled the scene and resurfaced in the Lake District, where he kept a low profile under an alias. He wrote to the legal authorities, promising to appear at his trial. One month after the duel, Landale faced a murder charge in Perth where he was acquitted with his character unsullied. In a remarkable postscript some 25 years down the line, Landale's daughter married Morgan's nephew. The whole event is a fascinating piece of history that is not widely known, even locally. A short walk from the duel site brought me to the remains of Carden Tower. The foundations are visible on a high patch of land and passing A92 traffic can be glimpsed through the trees.
My mum has childhood memories of the structure being in a ruined state, but not accessible due to thick surrounding vegetation. This was borne out by old postcard images I found online and also on the information panel beside the remains that informed me the tower was "made safe" in the 1950s. This would have been before listed building legislation and I assume the crumbling walls were brutally razed to the ground. The land became overgrown but a local heritage group uncovered the base in 1992 and installed signage. An infilled well was also pinpointed and a metal grille placed over the opening. The modestly sized but sturdy tower was built sometime in the 16th century from sandstone and overlooked a steep gorge. Oblong on plan and comprising at least three stories, the wall thickness reached 1.4 metres at its widest. It was part of the Carden Estate which passed through various ownership wrangles over the centuries. The tower is reckoned to have become abandoned in the early 1700s. All very interesting. I varied my route back to Bowhill, crossing the burn on a low bridge then climbing the steep winding path on the opposite bank to emerge in Dundonald - the southern part of Cardenden. I followed the pavement back down to the railway station, passing Joe Corrie's cottage. He was a miner who turned his hand to writing poetry and plays, to great critical acclaim. Curiously, Corrie (1894-1968) was born in Slamannan, Stirlingshire - the same village as my gran. The Lady Helen Colliery formerly stood in Dundonald but there are no visible traces on the landscape, which has now reverted to agricultural use. I approached the railway station which - along with Lochgelly - changed to unmanned status in the early 1980s. I remember the old buildings, including the stationmaster's house, as my mum used to put me on the evening train to Edinburgh following the visit to Gran's. My dad, having finished his work, would collect me at the other end and we headed off to the stock-car racing at Newtongrange, Midlothian. A great adventure for a young boy! Especially one with a railway obsession. I would always try and sit behind the driver's cab because in those days the partition wall had a large window enabling passengers to see right through to the tracks. These days the station is a much simpler affair. A couple of platforms with perspex shelters. I wandered round the tight bend in Bowhill and took the steps up to the trackbed of the old pit branch line. The rails originally extended beyond the colliery and over the main road towards a wagon storage yard. I don't remember this arrangement but do recall shunting locomotives running up to a buffer stop at the point where the old bridge had been removed. The path took me into an area of reclaimed woodland where the colliery bing (spoil heap) formerly dominated the skyline. A network of walking routes is now available to the public and I worked my way round to the main road where I had come in.
When I was around 12 years old, Dad took me up the massive bing and this was probably my earliest taste of urban exploring. I vividly remember the array of railway tracks spreading out as we looked down upon the coal washery. The bing was smouldering in places and there was a fenced-off slurry pond. We made our way down the other side and followed the branch line to the junction with the main railway, crossing a high bridge across the River Ore. British Rail converted this part of Fife to electronic signalling on the early 80s and - for some reason - I picked up a discarded traditional red & white semaphore arm I found lying around and lugged it back home. It lay in my dad's garage for many years. Could probably have sold it on eBay today! We made a return visit in 1988 when I was doing my Higher Geography project on the local mining landscape. Reduction and removal of the bing began around 1990. The wash-plant and its rail connection closed in 1991 and the tracks are - to the best of my knowledge - still there. The last time I looked, the railway was difficult to access due to engulfing vegetation. I was still able to walk across the bridge but stuck to the centre as the railings were completed rusted through, or missing entirely. Great to have all these memories of doing fascinating things with my dad as a youngster. He's still around, but not so mobile these days. From the old pit site, I descended to Jamphlars Road. Dad was born near here and Mum spent the first couple of years of her life in a (long demolished) house overlooking Jamphlars Pond. Legend insists the area took its name from a remark uttered by the French-born Mary Queen of Scots as she passed through in the royal carriage. Champ de fleurs (field of flowers) she is said to have exclaimed. It's a bloody good story and I'm definitely buying. At the bottom of Jamphlars Road stands the town war memorial. My great grandfather John Fraser (1878-1917) has his name inscribed on the stone. He went to war aged 37 (despite being exempt due to his job as a miner) and fell at the Battle of Passchendaele, leaving five children - my paternal grandfather included - to grow up in poverty. Over a century has elapsed since this war ended yet I had a lot of personal contact with a man whose childhood was adversely affected by the conflict. Therefore I despise any attempts to romanticise life in the trenches.
I wandered up to Auchterderran Old Parish Church and had a look around the graveyard. Mum's lifelong friend Irene lived right next door and I remember climbing over the church wall to have a look at the ancient tombs when we were visiting. Irene also had a burn flowing through her back garden, which I found fascinating. The original Auchterderran Church building is reckoned to have been constructed in 1059, although worship almost certainly took place on the site for several centuries beforehand. The present church dates from 1789 and incorporates parts of the older structure. A mausoleum is located to the rear and the south wall has an impressive skull & crossbones monument. Outside the crypt is a memorial to Lochgelly poet John Pindar. The Fife Pilgrim Way walking trail passes close by. I finished my figure-of-eight tour by heading back to the car via Bowhill cemetery. My dad's maternal grandfather is buried here but there is no gravestone. Not an uncommon arrangement for the resting places of ordinary working people from those days. By far the most well-known Bowhill grave is that of footballer John Thomson, who was fatally injured while playing for Celtic in 1931 against arch rivals Rangers. Aged just 22, the Cardenden lad was playing his 164th game for the Glasgow giants when an accidental collision with Rangers forward Sam English rendered him unconscious. An emergency operation on a fractured skull and ruptured artery failed to save Thomson and he passed away in hospital. An estimated 30,000 people, many of them walking the 55 miles from Glasgow, came to pay their respects to a player who'd had a glittering career ahead of him. Thomson had already appeared four times for Scotland and would almost certainly have gone on to become one of the all-time greats. Every year, children from local districts compete for the John Thomson Memorial Trophy to ensure his name isn't forgotten.
Thus I completed an interesting wander full of heritage. Many childhood memories were triggered in the process, only a select few of which are mentioned in this post. Both my grandfathers and all four of my great grandfathers worked down the pit, so it's fair to say mining runs through my veins. Trips to see Gran were always a highlight of the week. I used the wonderful logic of an eight-year-old to conclude that mum's mum was my favourite relative as she offered an unlimited supply of chocolate biscuits and gave me 10p sweetie money every time we visited. Staying over for the weekend was a real bonanza as I could order a chicken supper from Curati's chippie. It was time to head to the Buffalo Farm on the outskirts of Kirkcaldy to pick up an order and buy a few items for my mum. The business is owned by Steven Mitchell who started out on the farmers market circuit and now has extensive premises with shop and café facilities. The place is always buzzing and is a great addition to the Fife foodie scene. Mum and I had a right good natter about the places I'd seen on my walk, followed by pie and beans for lunch.
Comments