The following is taken from the book “From Glasgow’s Treasure Chest” by James Cowan and gives an account of his visit to the Old Flint Mill on the River Kelvin in March 1934.
THE OLD FLINT MILL
On the northern bank of the Kelvin, between Belmont Street Bridge and the old Queen Margaret Bridge, stands the old flint mill, in which is still carried one of Glasgow’s longest established industries, the grinding of flints for pottery glaze.
Many a time had I passed the old mill, and wondered what it was that caused the steam I could see rising inside the windows of the down – river part of it; but these windows were, rather tantalisingly, just too high for me to see down inside over their sills.
However, one day I was lucky finding the mill gate open. I walked in, an almost immediately encountered the miller, who very obligingly satisfied my curiosity regarding the work of the mill.
All round the yard were heaps of flint, in nodules varying in size from that of a large orange down to that of a boy’s marble. These, I was told come from France, and a shipment of some 400 tones had just been taken in. Other more massive flints of curiously contorted shapes were brought from England. These are the raw materials of the business.
The flints are first burned in the kiln which stands in one corner of the yard. Thus calcined, they become white and friable, though still quite hard. Those which are not properly calcined the first time are picked out and subjected to a second burning.
The calcined flints are then put into the grinding tubs, with a certain quantity of water. Here they undergo about eight hours of grinding under the weight of large blocks of quartz-like rock, which is brought from Ballachulish ; and at the end of this time they have become reduced to a thick creamy consistency. This white fluid is run into a tank, from which it is pumped up and through a conduit across the yard, into two long shallow vats in the shed, through the windows of which I had so often vainly attempted to see what was inside.
Photo of the mill remains taken January 2007 (Not as nice and sunny a pic as Sharon's)
The flues from four furnaces run below these vats, and after the surplus water has been run off, the pasty mass is further dried by the heat of the flues, thus causing the steam which has puzzled me. After about 24 hours this paste is of a suitable consistency for cutting into blocks, and it is then removed in bags to the Paisley potteries for use in glazing tiles, crockery etc.
Before leaving, I had a stroll along the pathways of the old garden above the mill. This is of an island – like character, having the mill-race on one side and the Kelvin on the other. The garden extends up as far as the old Queen Margaret Bridge, and, being well clothed with trees and shrubs, must form a welcome sanctuary for many birds. Indeed, early as it was in the season, I noticed some of them in the preliminaries of nest-building.
Flowers do not grow well in the rather sodden earth of this old garden ; but this is no drawback to water-loving rhubarb, of which I noticed the miller had a thriving patch.
The site of the old mill has been the scene of industry since well back in the 18th century ; how far back it is difficult to ascertain. But there is a record of it being advertised in the Glasgow Journal as a barley mill for sale in 1758. This would probably be the mill of which the remains are shown in a picture in Simpson’s “Glasgow in the Forties,” done in 1845 ; and this ruin must have been cleared away to make room for the present building which was erected in 1846.