The Seat of Power

Flanking one side of Glasgow’s main square (a drab concrete expanse interrupted by some patches of grass and numerous statues of dignitaries like King George) is the impressive and massive City Hall. Twice daily you can take a free guided tour that gives a glimpse of what Glasgow must have been like in 1880s when it was an industrial powerhouse.  The neoclassical building has two wings off a lavish, mosaic-tiled entry: the ceremonial side is clad in white marble and alabaster while the working side is a bit drabber but no less spectacular. We learned that Glasgow is governed by an elected Lord Provost and 84 council members who represent the various neighborhoods. They convene every six weeks in chambers that are covered in rich, carved mahogany; no meeting can be held unless the Lord Provost and the ceremonial mace are present. The hefty solid silver mace (which takes two men to carry) is more than just for show: if the Lord Provost feels the debate is getting out of hand, he can signal the guards to raise the mace, at which time the meeting is halted. Portraits of past Lord Provosts line the upper hall, most looking like they stepped out of central casting with their ermine robes, gold medallions, and luxuriant moustaches. (The four women who have served don’t sport moustaches but do have that no nonsense look about them.) One thing we didn’t see, but read about: 150,000 honeybees are in residence on City Hall’s roof. They pollinate surrounding gardens and their wax is used to shine the furniture.