Troon - Crosbie Church and Cemetery

Crosbie Church and Cemetery

First recorded in 1229, the present structure dates from 1691. Tradition claims that the roof blew off on the day in 1759 that Robert Burns was born and it was left to become a ruin. One of the graves is that off David Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, son of, James, alleged assassin of the Regent Moray, bastard son of James V. This event occurred in 1570 and David died in 1619. David Fullarton of that Ilk had married David's sister.

Constructed on the site of the original chapel, the name comes from the Anglo-Saxon word 'Crossbye', signifying the dwelling of the cross; a fairly common placename. The cemetery dates from circa 1240 and was held in secular times by Fullarton of Crosbie in the 14th century after being passed on from relatives. Records indicate that this ground was used by a holy order before the Fullartons arrived in the area. The chapelry of Crosbie, together with that of Richardstoun (Riccartoun) were attached to Dundonald and were granted by the second Walter Stewart to the short lived Gilbertine Convent which he had founded at Dalmulin in 1238. The convent was dis-established in 1238 and the chapel passed to the monks of Paisley Abbey.

The cemetery was the burial ground for Troon until 1862 and family lairs were still in use until after the First World War. One the other side of the road, the remains of the church manse can still be seen (2009). The 'Wrack Road' was the Fullarton Estate estate road used by tenants who took their carts down to the shore to collect seaweed or wrack as fertilizer and it was the main road from Troon for funerals going to Crosbie.

Janet McFadzean was buried in Crosbie cemetery in 1761 and the front of her tombstone reads: Here lyes the corps of Janet McFadzean, Spous of William McFadzean, Quarter-Master Sergean in Lovetenan General Homs Regiment of Sol., who died August 22, 1761, aged 27 years.

The reverse side reads:

Twenty-four years i lived a maiden life,
And three years i was a married wife,
In which time i lived a hapie life,
I trevld with him from toun to toun,
Until by death i was cut down.
In my sister's hous did die,
And here at Crosbie Kirk i ly,
Where i my rest and sleep will take,
Until at last i be awaked.
It will not be with tuk of drum,
But it will be when the trumpet sound,
And while ile my Redeemer see,
Who shed his preshios blood for me.

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