From the Edinburgh Evening Courant – Saturday 17 March 1832 Fire. — On Sunday last, the parish church of Cleish, Kinross-shire, was accidentally set fire to by the stove-pipe communicating with one of the beams, and in very short time the whole of the interior[…]
The Scottish isle of Islay (pronounced eye-luh) is a peaceful place, hardly one associated with piracy, but in the late eighteenth Century, things were very different. From the Caledonian Mercury – Saturday 28 October 1780 Extract of a letter from Inveraray, Oct. 22. “The packet[…]
From the Perthshire Advertiser – Thursday 08 September 1842 THE QUEEN’S WELCOME TO PERTHSHIRE. Daughter of kings, with graceful mien, Thou when Earth wears loveliest green, And forest leaves are glittering sheen. All gaily clad, to greet a Queen— The good, the fair Victoria. Thou com’st when heard[…]
From the Fife Herald – Thursday 08 September 1842. St Andrews. – Explosion – Marvellous Escape.—Mr Gyngell, the celebrated constructor of fire works, who has entertained the folks here on several occasions, having received an extensive order from Perth, prepared the articles in a room[…]
From Leaves from the Journal of our Lives in the Highlands, 1848-61, Edinburgh, 1868 Saturday 3rd September. The view of Edinburgh from the road before you enter Leith is quite enchanting; it is, as Albert said, ‘fairy-like’, and what you would only imagine as a thing[…]
[su_button url=”http://www.redbubble.com/people/astrantium/works/22872918-harvest-girls?p=framed-print&size=large&frame_style=box20&frame_color=black&matte_color=off_white” target=”blank” style=”soft” background=”#c886d2″ center=”yes” icon=”icon: shopping-cart”]Buy related products[/su_button] From the Fife Herald – Thursday 22 August 1850. HARVEST. Summer now passing into autumn, and the luxuriance of the year will soon have disappeared. The hand and the sickle are beginning to strip gardens[…]
From the The Scots Magazine – Thursday 01 June 1809. Suggestions for the Improvement of the EDINBURGH BOTANIC GARDEN. All about grew every sort of flowre, To which sad lovers were transform’d of yore; Fresh Hyacinthus, Phoebus’ paramoure, And dearest love Foolish Narcisse, that likes the[…]
