Beautiful was once a battle
Mine of information
It’s hard to believe that Renfrewshire was once the scene of a turf war between two famous Scottish saints.
Yet that’s what happened when St Columba and St Moluag (pronounced Mol-oo-a) arrived in our neighbourhood from Ireland’s Bangor monastery during the sixth century.
Columba established a monastic cell near what’s now Kilmacolm, before travelling along the Gryfe, Black Cart and Clyde rivers to plan Scotland’s evangelisation with St Mungo at Glasgow.
The name, Kilmacolm, means prayer cell of Columba.
Moluag built a chapel on a green hill overlooking the Clyde, above what’s now Finlaystone House, standing in splendour today between Houston and Langbank.
The grassy knoll is called Kilmalig, which means prayer cell of Moluag.
Finlaystone is a favourite retreat of mine. The estate and mansion were once owned by the Earls of Glencairn, who hosted national bard Robert Burns and
Derek Parker knew many of Paisley’s secrets – the grimy and the good.
He wandered every corner in search of the clues that would unlock Renfrewshire’s rich history.
These tales were shared with readers in his hugely popular Parker’s Way column.
We’ve opened our vault to handpick our favourites for you. religious reformer John Knox.
A wooded neuk in Finlaystone is named Paradise, possibly in remembrance of Moluag.
That’s where I make my annual pilgrimage every February to see beautiful snowdrops peep through frozen woodland floors to announce winter’s end.
It’s my destination in March to admire thousands of golden daffodils proclaim that spring is here again and it’s where I return in April to walk among purple drifts of bluebells heralding the Celtic summer’s imminent advent at Beltane on May 1.
Embellished with leaf-laden tree canopies, spruce-scented conifers and sibilant songs of warblers, finches and thrushes, you understand why the sylvan sanctuary is called Paradise.
Fiery St Columba and St Moluag were so passionate about their divine destinies that they became embroiled in rancorous quarrels.
It’s said that both cherished Lismore for their missionary base. As they rowed in coracles towards the Hebridean island, Moluag sliced off, and then threw ashore, his bloodied thumb to stake his claim.
Vengeful Columba cursed the island and called for its footpaths to be jagged rocks and to have only wet alder trees for fire fuel.
From Kilmalig Hill where Moluag lived, you gaze across green fields towards Columba’s shrine near Kilmacolm.
You realise that, while both were often rivals, they united in their mission to propagate the faith which bequeathed our modern Christian heritage, including Paisley Abbey and St Mirin’s Cathedral.
Because they were human, they were sinners, as well as saints, and that’s why Columba and Moluag are remembered with affection in a Renfrewshire realm named Paradise.