Miscellaneous - Sandford
Sandford Village
An Imaginary Campaign
Humiliation
Wha's Like Us?
The Dominie's Domain
The Call of Summer
Lighter in Winter
Sandford Village
The following extract comes from a correspondent reporting on his visit
to Sandford in 1936:
“If one could picture another ‘45’ in Scotland with the village of
Sandford espousing the modern Jacobite uprising - which Heaven forbid!
- this small clachan on the Kype would hold the key position. Why? Look
at that direction post at the foot of the village where many motorists
in the travelling days of summer dismount to discover their bearings.
What village in the county commands so many highways leading north,
south, east and west? If Sandford, instead of being pictured in
rebellion, were to be imagined exacting toll at the cross roads, as in
the bad old days, she would get rich quick, and with her wealth would
go all that unsophisticated rurality which is one of her
characteristics of those who live and move and have their being within
this little cumulation of clean homesteads on Kype-side.
An Imaginary Campaign
No fewer than five roads fork off at Sandford, and on a stout iron
sign-post the various directions are plainly named. That way to
Carlisle and South, with all England beyond to plunder! Yon road to
Kirkmuirhill and Lanark, where the burghers would be an easy prey to
the country-bred Sandfordians! Or this way to Stonehouse, whose
capitulation would be a foregone conclusion! Along that fork to
Muirkirk, which would be taught to respect the prowess of the men of
Kype Water!
Humiliation
Finally, there is the road to Chapelton and Strathaven. Chapelton would
be excused, but Strathaven could expect no quarter! There is more than
a “gingerbread crumb” to pick with the “Stra’ven Cronies.” At the hands
of the larger community, Sandford suffers repeated humiliation. How
frequently postal communications reach the Kypeside community bearing
the legend, “Sandford, by Strathaven.” Sandford by Strathaven ! What
ignorance! How degrading to be known only by proximity to one’s
neighbour! Is there any other Sandford in Scotland? Not that we know
of. True, there’s almost a bakers dozen of them in England - but what’s
England anyway? Caledonia stern and wild knows only one Sandford, and
she sits securely where the stream which gives Hamilton its morning
bath and quenches its thirst, splashes over a broken and rocky bed, and
casts itself over a perpendicular cliff to produce the much visited
“Spectacle E’e” falls.
Wha’s Like Us?
Well, but getting down to it, let us say without hesitation, that there
are few cleaner villages in the county than Sandford. There has been no
sparring of whitewash, which gives colour as well as a preservative to
the cottage walls. There are three rows of dwellings, each branching
off in a different direction from the others. This gives the village an
appearance of roominess and expansiveness. The houses seem all well
built and in good order”.
The Dominie’s Domain
A recent addition to the local architecture was a new home for the
school master, and the Education Committee acted wisely in their choice
both of site and plan. In our village peregrinations we have not come
across a more pleasantly situated home for the head teacher than this
one flatted bungalow at Sandford beside the school. The dominie was
from home when we arrived, and Mrs
Headmaster caught us inspecting admiring the exterior of the new
schoolhouse. “You can see the inside too,” she said, with an inviting
smile, and we were charmed with its comfort, its conveinence, and the
delectable prospect of the country scenery from the parlour windows.
When those features of the home were revealed to us, we could
understand the quiet joy and barely suppressed enthusiasm manifested by
the good lady in finding, with her husband and her family, such a
conveinently built and beautiful home after residence in one of the
large industrial areas of the country.
A pivotal point in the social life of Sandford is the annual gala day,
when the village from head to toe gives itself to mirth, music, dance
and play. Fair Monday is the day - marked red in the local calendar -
set apart for this annual festival. Sandfordians the world over return,
if not in flesh, at least in the spirit, to their native village on
that day. Many natives within convenient distance find the homing
instinct on Fair Monday irresistible, and thither they betake
themselves to join in the happy reunion, and to renew old but not
fogotten associations.
The Call of Summer
Sandford is an ideal little summer resort where, in the quietness of
its surroundings and the purity and salubrity of its country air, the
visitor may find renewal for body, mind and spirit. And in this respect
the village is not unknown. Of late years it has increasingly attracted
resident visitors, and on the gala day when the season is at its height
these temporary dwellers by the Kype take a prominent share in the
arranging of the programme for the day. The village is now more
accessible and less isolated than it used to be. Prior to the
inauguration of the present limited bus services, which links it up
with Strathaven, Sandford could only be reached by employing “Shank’s
naigie” for a few miles if one could not afford a private conveyance.
Lighter in Winter
The village life as a whole was given a new centre when a few years
ago, largely by their own efforts, the people built what is known as
Waterside Hall, where carpet bowls, concerts and meetings of all kinds
help to weld the community more closely together, and to enliven the
winter months. The W.R.I. Movement has pleasantly invaded the women’s
sphere, and brought its ameliorative, helpful and strengthening
influence into the home life of the community.
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