In 1840s Glasgow, the reverend dignitary of a local parish went house to house looking to spread the ‘judgement of God ’.
Gathering support to protest against the shareholders of the Glasgow and Edinburgh Railway, Reverend William Burns told locals in the village of Kilsyth that they would end up in hell for using the rail service on the Sabbath. While visiting the house of a female parishioner, he ordered her to sign his petition.
The Cork Examiner published an article on February 9 1842, stating he told her: “Should she ever happen to be travelling by railway, and an explosion should take place, attended with loss of life, and her amongst the number, he would consider it as nothing else than a visitation of the righteous judgement of God for her criminal disobedience.”
The Reverend’s hopes of getting Sunday train services off the rails failed, on February 21 1842 the Glasgow to Edinburgh line opened to the public. At the time, it ran from Dundas Street Station to Haymarket.
Four passenger trains ran each way daily, with only two each way on Sundays which were timed at hours which would not ‘interfere with the ordinary period of divine service’. Reverend William Burns was not alone in his stance against the Sabbath service.
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Great controversy spread through Scotland in the months leading up to the opening of the Glasgow - Edinburgh line. An article published in the Caledonian Mercury the previous year argues the clergy were not against Sunday travel for religious reasons.
It reads: “Until the late meeting of the General Assembly’s Commission, I did not find fault with the remonstrance of the clergy against opening the railway on Sunday. I now see plainy the moving principle in all this is the desire of notoriety and triumph, as stepping-stones to power.”
The article goes on to question what would follow should trains be banned from running on Sundays - whether this would see the closure of newsrooms and theatres, or if those caught walking the streets of Glasgow would be committed to prison. Even though their opinion on the Sunday rail debate was clear, they added: “Let no one suppose, however, that I am advocating for the desecration of the Sabbath; far from it.”
After the first Sunday train left the station, the Scotsman published an article detailing the success of the service. With a tongue-in-cheek tone, it reads: “The first shock is over. On Sunday last the long-talked of “desecration” commenced; and, singular to record, the carriages were neither thrown off the rails nor shattered into fragments.”
While the trains continued on without issue, Reverend William Burns made a return to the streets continuing to preach his message. Having risen to fame across Scotland for his firm point of view, he drew in crowds at the train station.
He preached, while pointing towards the station house: “You may be booked for Hell at the cost of a few shillings.”
Try as they may, members of the church against Sunday travelling were fighting a losing battle. The Scotmans told readers: “In spite of the many evil croakings, Scotland still survives the ‘great national calamity’ which was to carry ‘unlimited dissipation into the rural districts’, and stands very much in the same position as before.”
