Ayrshire’s Brigadoon
            Hugh Maxwell investigates the vanished village of 
            Loudounkirk
             It used to be one of the most 
            picturesque scenes imaginable - down in a small, secluded hollow 
            stood a row of thatched cottages against whose whitewashed walls 
            fragrantly scented woodbine and roses spread with wondrous 
            profusion; while, nearby, a sparkling burn disappeared under a 
            rustic stone bridge before gurgling past the walls of an old 
            kirkyard where the ruined chapel was surrounded by dark yew trees 
            gently swaying in the warm, sweetly scented, summer breeze. 
            This was the delightful village of Loudounkirk, hidden in a 
            sheltered corner of the Irvine Valley near Galston. The tiny hamlet 
            riginally took its name from the nearby church that dates back to 
            1451 when Lady Alicia Campbell, the tenant of the local castle, 
            granted the land to the monks of Kilwinning Abbey in memory of her 
            late husband Sir John. 
            Loudounkirk became an idyllic spot with less than a hundred 
            residents, most of them estate workers and their families living in 
            a row of thatched cottages and paying an annual feu duty of three 
            shillings and fourpence - plus two fat hens. 
            The men were employed as gardeners, foresters, gamekeepers, 
            stable hands and farm labourers in the extensive grounds of Loudoun 
            Castle while the women worked as maids and servants. 
            One visitor to the village in 1894 was so enamoured that he 
            wrote, “The birds which sing so sweetly here just about sunset had 
            now sought their nests and nothing but the murmur of the brook 
            that babbles past the walls of the graveyard or a slight stirring of 
            the branches of the trees by the evening breeze disturbed the 
            solemn quiet. As we approached the ivy-mantled tower of the auld 
            kirk, no moping owl startled us with its eerie screech, although a 
            bat - or, as the children call it, a battie bird - went whisking by. 
            It is indeed a lovely spot, retired from the hum and bustle of the 
            town,inspiring one with a feeling of peace and seclusion.  
            Beneath the rugged elms and the shade of the yew trees, as well 
            as the ash and the weeping willow, the green turf is lying, while 
            beautiful roses fill the summer air with their fragrance.” 
            The condition of the cottages in many of these small villages was 
            dependent not only upon the pride of the tenants who lived 
            there but also on the financial status of the landlord. 
            In the early part of the 19th century, Lord Moira invested a huge 
            amount of money on the Loudoun estate, including £100,000 on the 
            castle itself. The latter now became one of the most attractive in 
            the country and was proudly known as the Windsor of Scotland.  
            During this period, the row of cottages, with their thatched 
            roofs and clay flagstoned floors,were well maintained by the estate; 
            and the tenants and their families also transformed the gardens into 
            rich, colourful havens of flowers and shrubs. 
            
  
            
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