Coulter's Candy Sculpture

Blending into the hustle and bustle of the busy Borders town of Galashiels, you'd be forgiven for not spotting this small bronze statue of a humble sweet seller known as The Coulter's Candy Statue.

On a sunny day in a crowded square, people passed with bags and helium balloons; one popped and made the pigeons buck and humph, and a small girl cry! But standing strong and proud amidst the crowd was a bronze replica of the well-known and much loved character Robert Coltart.

Robert was a man of many talents. Born in Galloway, he moved to Galashiels as a teenager, where he sought work as a weaver making Scottish Tweed and Tartan. Galashiels is famous for its black and white Shepherd's Checks fabric, which was used to make cloaks for shepherds in the Borders known as a plaid, to keep out the whippy winds when up on the hills.

This shepherd in Edwin Landseer's 'Crossing the Moor' would surely have been grateful to folk like Coltart, as would this man guarding his lambs.

This photograph originally comes from a book written by J.G. Martindale, called 'The Scottish Woollen Industry', published in 1954

To supplement his income, Robert Coltart designed a homemade recipe for boiled sweeties, which he'd make in Melrose and sell around the streets and fairs of the Borders. They were known as Coulters Candy. Look at these nipped in little paper packets filled with confection.

Here he is depicted in this bronze statue by artist and sculptor Angela Hunter whose studio is in Innerleithen but is Galashiels born and bred! Coltart is shown as a compact little chap selling his wares. Hunter has worked for nearly three decades, first in clay and then casting figures in bronze to reflect her love of form and movement.

I love his Saturday Night Fever pose, which gives a flavour of his gregarious nature. He's certainly owning his space and attracting the attention of passersby.

Take a closer look and notice his perfect patchwork waistcoat. It's made to resemble mixed materials and sewn together in a handmade, idiosyncratic fashion.

He's wearing humble boots that look like they've seen hard work and long walks.

And his sleeves are rolled up and relaxed with a small kerchief knotted at the neck. I'm always amazed by how artists can replicate texture and tone in a material that is entirely alien to the one they're working in. How can fabric be so light in touch when made of metal?

Then, imagine being that small child, looking up at the man who carried a box of confectionery joy around his neck. That hat...how it towers. It's the height of his torso! Known as a lum hat, it translates as a 'chimney pot hat', and comes from the Scottish word 'lum', which means chimney. It's simply a battered and bashed, well-loved, well-lived-in top hat! All part of his performative offerings in selling sweets to small children.

But, here's the thing, as he would walk the streets, he would sing, bellow from his boots and draw the crowds in. It's an early form of advertising when you think about it. It's a signature tune or a jingle to alert weeuns that the Coulter's Candy Man was on his way.

I remember as a child, we had an ice cream van that came around the streets that played 'Strangers in the Night'. It was an immediate alert, an ear prick that would send me down the stairs, two at a time, or even maybe just a slide down the banister, 'cause no one wanted to miss the opportunity of a 99!

If he didn't want to knock on doors, he'd have had to alert his purchasers that he was in the vicinity with his adorable aniseed balls! Here we can see Little Jock striding out with a penny from his pocket and Wee Jeanie sampling her sweets sitting on the step, barefoot and grateful, both characters in his sweetie ditty.

And then I realised the connection...When I was a weeun, my long-legged dad would make a play of singing “Ally Bally, Ally Bally Bee, Sitting on Yer Daddy's knee”, and he'd bounce me up and down on his bony knees, until I cried with laughter. He'd start off slowly, and then the bounces would get bigger and faster, and the words would become just a jumble until he ran out of steam and my belly ached with laughter. I loved it, and thinking about it now makes my mouth curl at the corners into a smile. Then, some time later, after my dad had died and I'd had children of my own, I was reminded of the same song but as a lullaby. Sung in hushed tones and on swayed hips, it proved just the ticket to get our two off to sleep on countless occasions.

Here's how it goes...

You can hear from the lyrics Coltart's self-promotional assertions that the candy is good for malnourished children. It will appease crying babies. It's good value for money for mammies. It will bring strength to young boys, turning them into sailors to work away at sea and bring a fortune back to their parents...to buy more Coulter's Candy! What's not to love?

It was a lovely connection and turned something that was an incidental tune, sung in our family over the years, into a tale with a storyteller and a history, and not so far from home either. The Coulter's Candy statue was commissioned by The Scottish Borders Council and unveiled in Galashiels in 2019 to commemorate this unique character and share his story with future generations.

It forms part of a town trail which passes Coltart's home on Overhaugh Street.

Sadly, Robert Coltart died in 1880 of a brain tumour and was buried in an unmarked pauper's grave in Eastlands Cemetery in the town. It's remarkable, then, that his story will keep being told, and his heritage will live on in the shape of this sculpture.

You can find it in The Market Square in Galashiels