In one way, and one only, Glasgow resembles London. This is in the way in which the Clyde divides it, north and south. North, you have old Glasgow and its immediate extensions; south are the dependent districts of Hutchesontown, Laurieston, Gorbals, Govanhill, and a dozen others.
The Clyde and the neighbourhood of the Lanarkshire coalfield are the determining factors that have made Glasgow what it is, yet although its wealth and size are of modern growth, it is no parvenu, upstart place without a history. St. Kentigern, or St. Mungo, the patron saint of Glasgow, came here so early as A.D. 543, but early as he was, Glasgow was already here, in the guise of one hamlet on the Molendinar Burn, where the Cathedral now stands, and another nearer the Clyde.
And here, with this mention of St. Kentigern, it is necessary for awhile to divert the stream of historical narrative into the interesting backwater of saintly biography, and thus learn the story of how the city came by its singular armorial bearings.
Kentigern, the founder of the see, was born in A.D. 518, or 527, and was by birth a by no means humble person, having been the son of Ewen ap Urien, a prince of Strathclyde, and of Thenewth, daughter of Loth, King of Northumbria. Kentigern was born at Culross, where, as a youth, he entered the Church, under the guidance and protection of St. Serf, the old Bishop of Culross, who showed great affection for him, and used to style him, intimately, “Munchu,” a nickname said to derive from words signifying “dear, well-mannered little fellow.” Kentigern was not only urbane, but pious as well, and early of such holiness as to be able to perform miracles. The first of these was the bringing again to life a pet robin belonging to his patron, which had been accidently killed by other lads in the monastery, who laid the blame of the accident on him. Taking the dead bird in his hand, and making the sign of the Cross, it revived, and flew off, chirping, to its master.
The next miracle was exhibited to reprove his mischievous young companions, who, seeing him fall asleep over a consecrated fire which it was his duty to attend, extinguished it. Kentigern merely, when he awoke, went outside and found a frozen hazel branch which he breathed upon, in the name of the Trinity, whereupon it burst into flame.
