1. http://www.lwhk.org.uk/content.php?folder_id=61
The Laigh Kirk Tragedy
The present Laigh Kirk building dates from the year 1802, and to explain how it came into existence we need to look at the tragic events which took place in the afternoon of Sunday 18th October 1801. The existing old building at that time was too small to accommodate the large congregation. The passageways were few and very narrow. The stairs leading to the upper galleries were steep and narrow and the exit doors opened inwards and not outwards as they would have to do nowadays. The poorer people sat on temporary seats in the narrow passageways, while the well-to-do sat in their rented pews. In addition, the stability of the building had already been called into question and there was a local belief in a prophecy that the building was destined to fall down on to the congregation.
On that particular Sunday the congregation was unusually large because the Old High Kirk and some of the other churches in the neighbouring parishes were vacant, and many had flocked to the Laigh to hear the "Great McKinlay", who was at the peak of his fame as a preacher. The kirk was therefore packed, if not over-packed. Nothing untoward had happened at the morning service but the bell had hardly stopped ringing for the afternoon service and the minister just about to enter the church, when a small piece of plaster fell from the ceiling, or some say a seat cracked in one of the galleries. For whatever reason, a cry went up that the building was falling down, panic ensued and those who were downstairs started to rush outside.
Those who were upstairs in the galleries were not so fortunate. In the rush for the steep narrow stairs, they became tightly jammed together, many fell, crushing and suffocating those poor souls underneath them. The doors at the foot of the stairs had been pushed shut by the sudden surge of people towards them. Some desperate people threw themselves down into the body of the kirk, others leapt from windows into the graveyard. Others climbed into the pulpit to appeal for calm. You can imagine the chaotic scene.
The Royal Kilmarnock Volunteers were summoned to try and restore order; hundreds gathered anxious for news of family or friends. Ladders were sought to reach the upstairs windows but few could be found.
The outcome of this tragedy was that 29 people died in the panic and one woman died shortly afterwards from her injuries. A total of 30 in all; who are listed in McKays History of Kilmarnock. Curiously, no infant sustained the slightest injury, although there had been several present in the church. In fact one distraught mother who had been separated from her child during the commotion, later found it safe and well, sleeping in one of the pews.
After the tragedy, the structure of the building was examined and the conclusion reached was that, although there were doubts about the security of the roof structure, if the congregation had left in an orderly fashion, no lives would have been lost. However, no sermon was ever preached again in the building. It was pulled down and the stone used in the building of a church in Riccarton. The heritors were anxious to allay the fears of the congregation and agreed that the new building should be larger, more spacious and with sufficient doors; seven in all!! The foundation stone of the new building was laid with due Masonic honours on 20th April 1802 and during the rebuilding the congregation attended services in the (Old) High Kirk. This new structure was designed by Robert Johnstone, retaining the much older tower which is believed to be 17th century, but NOT the 1410 as recorded on the stone incorporated into its structure. A session room was added in 1831 (architect Ingram) and extensive renovations in 1903-4 by Gibby Andrews & Newlands.
S J Wilson
2. Homely Musings, by a Rustic Maiden by Jane Stevenson, re Kilmaurs Churchyard
"Kilmaurs Churchyard------but I saw no stone that told of a relation being buried there, except one erected to the memory of my father's uncle, John Stevenson of Hallbarns, who died on 'the 26th of December, 1825, aged 93 years; and his wife, Agnes Millar, who died on the 12th of June, 1812 - the stone was set up by his sons, John Stevenson of Kirkland and his brother in Hallbarns. It also told that Elizabeth their daughter died at the melancholy event which happened in the Low Church in Kilmarnock, in 1801. The sons themselves, who had set up the stone, died - John at Kirkland, and his wife and daughter Janet. Hugh died at Hallbarns in 1852; their sister Helen in 1849; and their brother, Peter Warner Stevenson, the last of the family, in 1862 - the year in which my mother died."
3. Can find no record of birth for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth Stevenson | ||||||||||||||||||
The book describes part of the authors life, visiting various family residences, on her travels around Ayrshire. Jean/Jane Stevenson's Grandmother, Mary Galt, is Jean Galts sister, her Great Grandmother is Helen Young, Great Grandfather is John Galt.
History of Kilmarnock (Extract)
On Sabbath, the 18th of October, in the following year, 1801, an occurrence still more melancholy in its effects, and one which will long form a principal feature in the annals of Kilmarnock, took place in the Old Low Church. This building, which stood nearly on the site of the present Low Church, was erected when the population of the town and parish was very inconsiderable; and, at the time of the accident, was greatly deficient in point of accommodation. The plan on which it was constructed was far from being judicious. The passages were few in number and limited in breadth ; the stairs leading to the galleries were within the church, and were steep and narrow. Their outlets, too, were by the same doors that led to the area ; and much inconvenience was thereby occasioned, both at the entry and dismissal of the congregation. The poorer portion of the hearers usually sat on temporary seats in the passages, which added not a little to the general disorder. The substantiality of the building as a whole was likewise doubted by some individuals; and a prophecy had been long prevalent in the locality that it was destined to fall upon the congregation. This prediction, with the supposed insecurity of the house, tended, in no small degree, when it was crowded, to create alarm in such minds as were not fortified by reason and reflection.
On the day of the calamity, the Chapel, or High Church, as it is now called, and some of the churches in neighbouring parishes, were vacant, and many persons belonging to these flocked to the Low Church, attracted by the popularity of Dr. Mackinlay, who was then in the zenith of his fame as a preacher. The house was therefore crowded to excess; but nothing occurred during the forenoon service to disturb the tranquillity of the audience; and when the bell announced the hour of meeting in the after part of the day, they again assembled, unconscious of any casualty being about to happen;
but nothing is more uncertain than the term of human existence. As the poet beautifully says,-
"The spider's most attenuated thread
Is cord, is cable, to man's hold of life."
The last sound of the bell had scarcely ceased to vibrate on the ear, and the minister was just about to enter the church, when a small piece of plaster fell from the ceiling, or, as some said, when a seat cracked in one of the galleries. A cry was instantly raised that the building was falling; and the alarm, spreading with the rapidity of lightning, created a scene of confusion and death almost incredible, and which no language can accurately delineate. A number who were seated in the lower part of the house immediately made their escape to the outside; those in the galleries were not so fortunate; they rushed to the staircases with the view of flying from the supposed danger; but in their wild precipitation they became so jammed together that one of the railings gave way, and many fell into the area, suffocating those on whom they descended, and dreadfully crushing and maiming each other. The doors at the foot of the stairs folded inward, and were unfortunately closed by the sudden rush that was made towards them; and all egress, at these places, being thereby prevented, despair was added to dread; the strong, unconscious of their own recklessness, trampled on the weak; body lay piled upon body; and the house resounded with the shriek of despondency, the wail of wo, and the moan of death.
Never, perhaps, was a more singular instance exhibited of the direful effects of fear and credulity. Some, believing that the prophecy was about to be fulfilled, and that the galleries were falling, threw themselves into the body of the church; some leapt from the windows into the grave-yard; and others, conceiving that death was inevitable, stood riveted to the spot. Two or three individuals, whose minds were more collected, ascended the pulpit to exhort the congregation to order and quiet; but such was the bewildering feeling which the scene before them inspired, that like the others they soon became victims to the general terror, and hastily abandoned their position. So great, indeed, was the delusion, that many, after rushing to the street, durst not pause for a moment to look behind, lest they should be crushed to death by the walls, which their disordered senses led them to believe were falling to pieces; and it may be mentioned as a striking instance of the force of imagination, that one individual declared to the minister, whom he met near the church, that the steeple itself was tumbling to the ground, though it was then, as it still is, entire and substantial. The reverend gentleman, struck with surprise at the tumultuous scene before him, and dreading that the consequences would prove fatal to many, clasped his hands in an attitude of devotion, and ejaculated with a pitying voice - "My people! oh, my people!"
In the meantime, intelligence of the catastrophe spread into every corner of the town. All were overwhelmed with consternation. For the preservation of order the Royal Kilmarnock Volunteers were summoned to the spot, already thronged by hundreds of the inhabitants inquiring anxiously for their friends, their relatives, or their neighbours. In consequence of the number who stood pressed together or lay prostrate on the stairs, many were still confined in the galleries, and it was suggested that their release might be effected from the windows by ladders, which were instantly procured; but so general was the panic that few could be found with sufficient resolution to place them against the walls. At length some individuals, actuated by feelings of humanity, ventured into the interior to alleviate, if possible, the agonies of the sufferers. The scene that presented itself to their view was peculiarly distressing. At the foot of each of the stairs a mass of persons of both sexes lay wedged together, maimed, dead, or dying. With considerable difficulty one layer of bodies was removed from above another, and the appalling announcement was ultimately made, that Twenty-Nine had breathed their last. Some of them were so disfigured that their friends could only recognise them by their apparel. The bodies of two of the females were shockingly injured, their breasts being deeply marked by the heavy shoes of an individual, whose "brutal hurry," during the calamity, is not yet forgotten.*
The bodies of the dead were carried into the burial-ground, and also such persons as were severely injured; and here another scene was exhibited, not less dismal than that which was witnessed in the church. In one place might be seen some poor sufferers, writhing in convulsions; in another, individuals sunk in a state of utter insensibility. Some were weeping over the corpse of a beloved father or mother-some were mourning in all the bitterness of wo over the lifeless form of a son or daughter - others poured forth their sorrows by the remains of a brother or sister. In short, the corpse - strewed ground - the blood - stained garments of the victims - and the rueful countenances of the multitude, rendered the scene awfully impressive; and, as we have heard a spectator remark, gave to it the sad characteristics of a battle-field, covered with the wounded, the dying, and the dead.
It was also affecting to behold the removal of the bodies to the homes they had so lately left in all the cheerfulness of
* In an account of the accident, published at the time by the authority of the Magistrates, the names of those who were killed are thus mentioned:-
"KILMARNOCK PARISH.-Townhead quarter - William Muir, glover; and Jean Paterson, residenter. - Soulis Cross quarter-John Logan, shoemaker. - In Back quarter - Mary Reid, daughter of William Reid; and Thomas Abraham, an orphan. - In Mid quarter - James Gilchrist, shoemaker; and Janet Dickie, daughter of Joseph Dickie. - In Brewland
Quarter - Andrew Aitken, staymaker; and Margaret Wilson, daughter of David Wilson. shoemaker. - In Holmhead quarter - Widow Howat. -In Netherton - Holm quarter - a daughter of Robert Keehan, weaver; Widow Mary Taylor; Janet, a daughter of Widow McIntosh; and John Deal, weaver, from Ireland. - In Townend and Glebe quarters - Charles Wilson, a servant; William Smith, weaver; Margaret Stevenson, widow of James Smith, carter; William Tannahill, wright; William Baird, son of William Baird, weaver; and a daughter of James Wilson, plasterer. - In West quarter - George Guthry, son of Mr. John Guthry, at Mount; and in Grougar quarter, - Bell, in Oldwalls, son of widow Bell.
KILMAURS PARISH. - Mary, daughter of Walter Smith; Jean Stewart;
Jean, daughter of the late William Anderson, in Corsehouse; James Fairlie, farmer; Janet, daughter of James Muir; in Holms; Janet, daughter of David Brown, collier; and a daughter of John Stevenson, in Hallbarns, Elizabeth.” *
health. Some were attended by groups of sorrowing relatives and acquaintances; others, by only two or three mourners; and, in one instance, an individual was observed, unaccompanied, carrying the corpse of a brother, and weeping like a child as he went along. But the picture, sad as it is, assume "a more gloomy and touching appearance, when the distressful cases of individuals are considered. One man, when humanely endeavouring to rescue others from danger, was overwhelmed by the dreadful pressure, and smothered on the spot. A young lady, whose father had caught her in his arms, despairingly exclaimed, " We are gone!" and was instantly suffocated.
Another female, when a young man was attempting to save her, cried in the same desponding tone, “You can do me no good!" and was immediately crushed to death; and so great was the breach made in one little circle of six acquaintances who met together in the morning, that only two escaped with their lives. It is rather remarkable that no infant, though several were in the church, sustained the smallest injury; on the contrary, after the tumult had subsided, a little child,
whose mother had left it in despair, or who had been driven from it during the commotion, was found safely and calmly sleeping in one of the pews.
As formerly observed, an unusual sensation was created in the community; and the gloom of sorrow appeared to deepen as the evening approached, and as the names of the departed - most
of whom were amiable persons - became generally known. Night came on - serene and beautifully arrayed by the beams of the silver moon; but no heart was at ease; and small parties might still be seen hurrying from street to street, to administer relief or consolation to the surviving sufferers. Here and there, groups of individuals, with countenances shaded by sadness, stood earnestly conversing together. In fine, death and distress were the all - engrossing themes; and the voice of mourning was heard, not only in the abodes of the widow and the orphan, but in the dwellings of many others, whose grief had been awakened by the heart-rending occurrence. One of the injured (Mrs. Milroy), who survived the disaster, died soon after the others, amounting to about eighty, were, by proper care and medical assistance, somewhat restored, though many of them carried to the grave the marks or scars they had received on that melancholy occasion.
As was to be expected, the causes and consequences of the
calamity gave rise to many vague and visionary stories; one of which was to the effect, that on that day several persons had seen a coach, decorated with all the sable emblems of mourning and drawn by six horses, pass through the centre ofthe burying ground, and that no less a personage than the devil was seated within it. An individual, on hearing the statement, is said to have remarked, that his Satanic Majesty was surely improving in his circumstances, when he could afford to ride about in his carriage and six! and we are in no way surprised at the observation of the wag; for such a story as the above was better fitted to excite contemptuous merriment than to produce
serious reflection.*
On the following day, the magistrates, and other philanthropic
gentlemen of the town, opened a subscription for the benefit of the more necessitous sufferers; and though the sums collected could not make up for the loss of near and dear relatives, still, to the widow and the fatherless, they
* See “Narrative of the Accident" published at the time. As a further
evidence of the superstitious notions which prevailed in the public mind, we may mention that, about the same period, suicides were sometimes denied a grave in the common burying - ground. For example, the remains of an old woman named Kerr, who hanged herself in her own house at the foot of Croft Street, were thrown into an old coal - pit near Dean Castle. The body of another old woman, named Jenny Whitly, who hanged herself in Back Street, met with a fate still more revolting to humanity. It was taken by stealth from her own house, and cast into a pit in the vicinity of Riccarton.
It was afterwards brought back to Kilmarnock, and boiled during the night at the Town Green, in a large pot which had been taken from the door of an ironmonger's shop. This was done, we believe, by some individuals who wanted her bones to form a skeleton.*
were highly beneficial in mitigating their pecuniary suffrerings, and in yielding comfort to their grief - torn hearts.
No sermon was afterwards preached in the same building ; for, on being examined by competent judges, it was found, in some respects, deficient; and the heritors, anxious to remove every cause of alarm, agreed that it should be rebuilt on a larger and more commodious plan, which was accordingly done in 1802.*
* The old church appears to have been erected about 1750; for we find from the Town's Records that £14 88. 8d., Scots, was paid that year as the Town's proportion of Stent for rebuilding it. It may be mentioned that, when the ground was dug for the foundation of the present church, there were discovered, huddled together, in one or two places, about two
carl-loads of human bones, the appearance and size of some of which attracted considerable attention. Mr. Gregory, of Virginia, speaking of them in a letter to his brother, says: -
" There was a thigh bone among them, which, from its great size, was the subject of some speculation. I saw William Wa1lace of Hawket Park draw up his knee, and lay this bone on his thigh; and from its much greater length than his, it was supposed by the gentlemen present that it had belonged to a man at least a foot taller than Mr. Wallace.
" Mr. Wallace was about six feet in height.*
See Notes under seperate media files
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laigh_Kirk,_Kilmarnock
On Sunday 18 October 1801, the congregation was unusually large, as churches in neighbouring parishes were vacant, and many had flocked to the Laigh to hear "Great McKinlay", the preacher. As the minister was about to enter the church, a small piece of plaster fell from the ceiling. A cry went up that the building was falling down, panic ensued and the congregation started to rush outside. Those upstairs became tightly jammed together, many fell, crushing and suffocating those poor souls underneath them. Some were crushed against the inward-opening doors at the foot of the stairs. Some desperate people threw themselves from the gallery into body of the kirk, others leapt from windows into the graveyard. 29 people were killed in the stampede[2] and another died soon after.[1] The church was quickly torn down and the current, more spacious church was built the following year.[2]