THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES IN MEMORY OF James J. McBride PRESENTED BY Margaret McBride ^^ %%^ rfrr W'l^ f '^r ^M^^ ROBERT CHAMBEK.S. toi^iiJMim.^ 0i t^ititJbm^gb, '^5^?^ .y2/piaxd t-;^'S;%^< y^e-^ : IT. ,& IR.. C JLAMB 31IR ^ TEADITIONS OF EDINBURGH ROBERT CHAMBERS A NEW EDITION, A3 REVISED IN 1846, WITH 80MB FDBTHEB CORRECTIONS. "WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS LONDON AND EDINBURGH PA mi CHARLES KIRKPATRICK SHARPE, AND TO THE MEMORY OF ^\ ALTER SCOTT, THIS WORK, WHICH TIIEY ENRICHED BY THEIR CONTRIBUTIONS OF MATERIALS, IS INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. 1G42242 CONTENTS. Page The Changes of the last Eighty Years, . . 7 The Castle Hill 16 Hugo Arnot — Allan Ramsay — House of Gordon Family — Sir David Baird — Dr Webster — Mary de Guise. The West Bow, 28 Bowhead — Anderson's Pills— Oratories — Colonel Gardiner — 'Bowhead Saints' — 'Seizera' — Story of a Jacobite Blackbird — Major Weir — Tulzies — Tinklarian Doctor — Old Assembly Room — Paul Romieu — ' He that Tholes Overcomes' — Provost Stewart — Donaldsons, Booksellers — Bowfoot — Templars' Lands — Gallows Stone. James's Court, 56 David Hume — James Boswell — Lord Fountainhall. Story of the Countess of Stair, .... 63 The Old Bank Close, 69 Regent Morton — Old Bank — Sir Thomas Hope — Chiesly of Dairy — Rich Merchants of the 16'th Century — Sir W. Dick. The Old Tolbooth, 77 Some Memories of the Luckenbooths, ... 89 Lord Coalstoun and his Wig — Comniendator Both well's House — Lady Anne Bothwell — Mahogany Lands and Fore-Stairs — The Krames — Creech's Shop. Some Memoranda OF the Old Kirk of St Giles', . 98 The Parliament Close, . . . . . .101 Ancient Churchyard — Booths attached to the High Church — Goldsmiths — George Heriot — The Deid-Chaek. Memorials of the Nor' Loch, 109 The Parliament House, Ill Old Arrangements of the House — Justice in Bygone Times — Court of Session Garland — Parliament House Worthies. convivialia, 132 Taverns of Old Times, 152 The Cross — Cawdies, 168 The Town-Guard, 172 Edinburgh Mobs, 176 The Blue Blanket — Bowed Joseph. Bickers, 182 Susanna, Countess of Eglintoune, .... 185 Female Dresses OF Last Century, . . . .192 The Lord Justice Clerk Alva, .... 197 Ladies Sutherland and Glenorchy — The Pin or Risp. vi CONTENTS. Pago Mablin's and Niddry's Wtnds 201 Tradition of Marlin the Pavier — House of Provost Edward — Story of Lady Grange. Abbot OF Melrose's Lodging, 214 Sir George Mackenzie — Lady Anne Dieli. Blackfriars' AYynd, 218 Palace of Archbishop Betliune — Boarding-Sehools of the Last Century — The Last of tlie Lorimers — Lady Lovat. The Colgate, 231 House of Gavin Douglas the Poet — Skirmish of Cleanse- the-Causeway — College Wynd — Birthplace of Sir Walter Scott — Tarn o' the Cowgate — Magdalen Chapel. St Cecilia's Haul 239 The Murder of Darnley, 246 Mint Close, 248 The Mint — Robert CuUen — Lord Chancellor Loughborough. Miss Nicky Murray, 253 The Netherbow, .... .... 257 John Knox's Manse — Lady Maxwell of Monreith. House of the Marquises of Tweeddale — The Begbie Tragedy, 262 Grayfriars' Churchyard, 268 Signing of the Covenant — Henderson's Monument — Both- well Bridge Prisoners — A Romance. Story of Mrs Macfarlane, 271 The Canongate, 274 Distinguished Inhabitants in Former Times — Story of a Burning — Morocco's Land — New Street. St John Street, 279 Lord Monboddo's Suppers — The Sister of Smollett — Anec- dote of Henry Dundas. Moray House, 283 House of Sir Archibald Acheson, .... 288 Panmure House — Adaji Smith, 292 John Paterson the Golfer, 294 Henry Prentice and Potatoes, 296 The Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, . . 298 Claudero, 301 Old Burghal Rf-gulations, 306 Queensbeury House 312 Tennis Court, 319 Early Theatricals — The Canongate Theatre — Digges and Mrs Bellamy — A Theatrical Riot. Lord Airth and his Woful Wise Wife, . . . 325 Marionville — Story of Captain Macrae, . . 329 Alison Square, 336 Leith Walk, . 338 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. THE CHANGES OF THE LAST EIGHTY YEARS. Edinburgh was, at the beginning of George III.'s reign, a picturesque, odorous, inconvenient, old-fashioned town, of about seventy thousand inhabitants. It had no court, no factories, no commerce ; but there was a nest of lawyers in it, attending upon the Court of Session ; and a considerable number of the Scotch gentry — one of whom then passed as rich with a thousand a-year — gave it the benefit of their presence during the winter. Thus the town had lived for some ages, during which political discontent and division had kept the country poor. A stranger approaching the city, seeing it piled ' close and massy, deep and high' — a series of towers, rising from a palace on the plain to a castle in the air — would have thought it a truly romantic place ; and the impression would not have subsided much on a near inspection, when he would have found himself admitted by a fortified gate through an ancient wall, still kept in repair. Even on entering the one old street of which the city chiefly consisted, he would have seen much to admire — houses of substantial architecture and lofty proportions, mingled with more lowly, but also more arresting wooden fabrics ; a huge and irregular, but venerable Gothic church, sunnounted by an aerial crown of masonry ; finally, an esplanade towards the castle, from which he could have looked abroad upon half a score of counties, upon firth and fell, yea, even to the blue Grampians. Everywhere he would have seen symptoms of denseness of population ; the open street a universal market ; a pell-mell of people everywhere. The eye would have been, upon the whole, gratified, what- 8 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. ever might be the effect of the clangor strepitusque upon the ear, or whatever might have been the private medita- tions of the nose. It would have only been on coming to close quarters, or to quarters at all, that our stranger would have begun to think of serious drawbacks from the first impression. For an inn, he would have had the White Horse, in a close in the Canongate ; or the White Hart, a house which now appears like a carrier's inn, in the Grass- market. Or, had he betaken himself to a private lodging, which he would have probably done under the conduct of a rag-ged varlet, speaking" more of his native Gaelic than English, he would have had to ascend four or five storeys of a common stair, into the narrow chambers of some Mrs Balgray or Luckie Fergusson, where a closet bed in the sitting--room would have been displayed as the most com- fortable place in the world ; and he would have had, for amusement, a choice between an extensive view of house- tops from the window, and the study of a series of prints of the four seasons, a sampler, and a portrait of the Marquis of Granby, upon the wall. On being" introduced into society, our stranger might have discovered cause for content with his lodging, on finding how poorly off were the first people with respect to domestic accommodations. I can imag-ine him going to tea at Mr Bruce of Rennet's, in Forrester's Wynd — a country gentleman and a lawyer (not long" after raised to the bench), yet happy to live with his wife and children in a house of fifteen pounds of rent, in a region of profound darkness and mystery, now no more. Had he got into familiar terms with the worthy lady of the mansion, he might have ascer- tained that they had just three rooms and a kitchen ; one room 'my lady's' — that is, the kind of parlour he was sit- ting in ; another, a consulting-room for the gentleman ; the third, a bedroom. The children, with their maid, had beds laid down for them at night in their father's room ; the housemaid slept under the kitchen dresser; and the one man-servant was turned at night out of the house. Had our friend chanced to get amongst tradespeople, he might have found Mr Kerr, the eminent goldsmith in the Parlia- ment Square, stowing his menage into a couple of small rooms above his booth-like shop, plastered against the wall of St Giles's Church ; the nursery and kitchen, however, THE CHANGKS OF THE LAST EIGHTY YEARS. 9 beinsT placed in a cellar under the level of the street, where the children are said to have rotted off like sheep. But indeed everything- was on a homely and narrow scale. The College — where Munro, Cullen, and Black were already making- themselves g-reat names — was to be ap- proached through a mean alley — the College Wynd. The churches were chiefly clustered under one roof; the jail was a narrow building, half-tilling up the breadth of the street ; the public offices, for the most part, obscure places in lanes or dark entries. The men of learning and wit, united with a proportion of men of rank, met as the Poker Club in a tavern, the best of its day, but only a dark house in a close, to which our stranger could have scarcely made his way without a guide. In a similar situation across the way, he would have found, at the proper season, the Assemhly ; that is, a congregation of ladies met for dancing, and whom the gentlemen usually joined rather late, and rather merry. The only theatre was also a poor and obscure place in some indescribable part of the Canongate. The town was, nevertheless, a funny, familiar, compact, and not unlikeable place. Gentle and semple living within the compass of a single close, or even a single stair, knew and took an interest in each other. Acquaintances might not only be formed, Pyramus-and-Thisbe-fashion, through party-walls, but from window to window across alleys, nar- row enough in many cases to allow of hand coming to hand, and even lip to lip. There was little elegance, but a vast amount of cheap sociality. Provokingly comical clubs, founded each upon one joke, were abundant. The ladies had tea-drinkings at the primitive hour of six, from which they cruised home under the care of a lantern-bearing lass ; or perhaps, if a bad night, in Saunders Macalpine's sedan. Every foi-enoon, for several hours, the only clear space which the town presented — that around the Cross — was crowded with loungers of all ranks, whom it had been an amusement to the poet Gay to survey from the neighbouring windows of Allan Ramsay's shop. The jostle and huddlement was extreme everywhere. Gentlemen and ladies paraded along in the stately attire of the period ; tradesmen chatted in groups, often bare-headed, at their shop-doors ; cadies whisked about, bearing messages, or attending to the affairs of strangers ; children filled the kennel with their noisy sports. lO TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. Add to all this, corduroyed men from Gilmerton, bawlino- coals or yellow sand, and spending- as much breath in a minute as could have sei'ved poor asthmatic Hug;o Arnot for a month; fishwomen crying their caller haddies from Newhaven ; whimsicals and idiots iToing along-, each with his or her crowd of listeners or tormentors ; sootymen with their bag's ; town-g-uardsmen with their antique Lochaber axes; water-carriers with their dripping- barrels; barbers with their hair-dressing- materials; and so forth — and our strang-er would have been disposed to acknowledg-e that, thoug-h a coarse and confused, it was a perfectly unique scene, and one which, once contemplated, was not easily to be forg-otten. A chang-e at length began. Our northern country had settled to sober courses in the reig-n of George II., and the usual results of industry were soon apparent. Edinburgh by and by felt much like a lady who, after long being- content with a small and inconvenient house, is taught, by the money in her husband's pockets, that such a place is no longer to be put up with. There was a wish to expatiate over some of the neighbouring grounds, so as to get more space and freer air ; only it was difficult to do, considering the physical circumstances of the town, and the character of the existing outlets. Space, space ! — air, air! was, however, a strong and a general cry, and the old romantic city did at length burst from its bounds, though not in a very regular way, or for a time to much good puri)ose. A project for a new street on the site of Halkerston's Wynd, leading by a bridge to the grounds of Mutrie's Hill, where a suburb might be erected, was formed before the end of the seventeenth century.* It was a subject of speculation to John Earl of Marr during his years of exile, as were many other schemes of national improvement which have since been real- ised ; for exiimjjle, the Forth and Clyde Canal. The grounds to the north laj' so invitingly open that the early formation of such a project is not wonderful. Wnnt of spirit and of means alone could delay its execution. After the RebelHon of 1745, when a general spirit of improvement began to be shown in Scotland, the scheme was taken up by a public-spirited provost, Mr George Drummond, but it had to struggle for years with local difficulties. Meanwhile, a sagacious builder, by name • Pamphlet circa 1700, Wodiow CuUection, Adv. Lib. THE CHANGES OF THE LAST EIGHTY YEARS. 11 James Brown, resolved to take advantag'e of the growing taste: he purchased a field near the town for £1200, and feued it out for a square. The speculation is said to have ended in something- like gfiving- him his own money as an annual return. This place (George Square) became the residence of several of the judges and g-entry. I was amused a iew years ago hearing an old gentleman in the country begin a story thus : — ' When I was in Edinburgh, in the j-ear '67, I went to George Square, to call for Mrs Scott of Sinton,' &c. To this day, some relics of gentry cling to its grass-green causeways, charmed, perhaps, by its propinquity to the Meadows and Bruntstield Links. Another place sprung into being, a smaller quadrangle of neat houses, called Brown's Square. So much was thought of it at first, that a correspondent of the Edinburgh Adver- tiser, in 1764, seriously counsels his fellow-citizens to erect in it an equestrian statue of the then popular 3'oung king, George III. ! This place, too, hiid some distinguished in- habitants; till this very year (1846), one of the houses continued to be nominally the town mansion of a venerable judge. Lord Glenlee. We pass willingly from these traits of grandeur to dwell on the fact of its having been the residence of INIiss Jeanie Elliot of Minto, the authoress of the original song, Tlie Flowers of the Forest; and even to bethink ourselves that here Scott placed the ideal abode of Saunders Fairford and the adventure of Green Mantle. Sir Walter has informed us, from his own recollections, that the mhabitants of these southern districts formed for a long time a distinct class of themselves, having even places of polite amusement for their own recreation, independent of the rest of Edinburgh. He tells us that the society was of the first description, including-, for one thing, most of the erentlemen who wrote in the Mirror and the Lounger. There was one venerable inhabitant who did not die till half the New Town was finished, yet he had never once seen it ! The exertions of Drummond at length procured an act (1767) for extending the royalty of the city over the northern fields ; and a bridge was then erected to connect these with the elder city. The scheme was at first far frcm popular. The exposure to the north and east winds was felt as a grievous disadvantage, especially while houses were few. So 12 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. unpleasant even was the North Bridge considered, that a lover told a New Town mistress — to be sure only in an epi- gram — that when he visited her, he felt as performing an adventure not much short of that of Leander. The aristo- cratic style of the place alarmed a number of pockets, and legal men trembled lest their clients and other employers should forget them, if they removed so far from the centre of things as Princes Street and St Andrew Square. Still, the move was unavoidable, and behoved to be made. It is curious to cast the eye over the beautiful city which now extends over this district, the residence of as refined a mass of people as could be found in any similar space of ground upon earth, and reflect on what the place was eighty years ago. The bulk of it was a farm, usually called Wood's Farm, from its tenant (the father of a clever surgeon, well known in Edinburgh in the last age under the familiar appellation of Lang Samhj Wood). Henry Mackenzie, author of the ' Man of Feeling,' who died in 1831, remem- bered shooting snipes, hares, and partridges about that very spot to which he alludes at the beginning of the paper on Nancy Collins, in the Mirror (July 1779): — 'As I walked one evening, about a fortnight ago, through St Andreio Square, I observed a girl meanly dressed,' &c. Nearly along the line now occupied by Princes Street, was a rough enclosed road, called the Lang Gait or Lang Dykes, the way along which Claverhouse went with his troopers in 1689, when he retired in disgust from the Convention, with the resolution of raising a rebellion in the Highlands. On the site of the present Registei'-House was a hamlet or small group of houses called Matrices Hill; and wliere the Royal Bank now stands was a cottage wherein ambulative citizens regaled themselves with fruit, and curds and creara. Broughton, which latterly has been surprised and swamped by the spreading cit}^, was then a village considered as so far a-field, that people went to live in it for the summer months, under the pleasing delusion that they had got into the coun- try. It is related that Whitefield used to preach to vast multitudes on the spot which by and by became appropriated for the present Theatre-Royal. Coming back one year, and finding a playhouse on the site of liis tub, he was extremely incensed. Could it be, as Burns suggests, ' There was rivalry just iu the job ! THE CHANGES OF THE LAST EIGHTY YEARS. 13 James Craig-, a nephew of the poet Thomson, was in- trusted with the duty of planning' the new city. In the engraved plan, he appropriately quotes from his uncle — • August, around, what PUBLIC WORKS I see ! Lo, stately streets! lo, squares that court the breeze! See long canals and deepened rivers join Each part with each, and with the circling main. The whole entwined isle.' The names of the streets and squai'es were taken from the royal family, and the tutelary saints of the island. The honest citizens had originally intended to put their own local saint in the foreground; but when the plan was shown to the king- for his approval, he cried, ' Hey, hey — what, what — St Giles Street!- — -never do, never do!' And so, to escape from an unpleasant association of ideas, this street was called Princes Street, in honour of the king's two sons, afterwards George IV. and the Uuke of York. So difficult was it at the very first to induce men to build, that a pre- mium of twenty pounds was offered by the mag-istrates to him who should raise the lirst house : it was awarded to Mr John Young-, on account of a mansion erected by him in Rose Court, George Street. An exemption from burghal taxes was also granted to IVIr John Neale, a mercer, for an elegant house built by him, the first in tlae line of Pi-inces Street, where his son-in-law, Archibald Constable, after- wai'ds was established. These now appear whimsical cir- cumstances. So does it that a Mr Shadrach Moyes, on ordering- a house to be built for himself in Princes Street, in 1769, took the builder bound to rear another further along- by his, to shield him from the west wind ! Other quaint particulars are remembered ; as, for instance — A Mr Wight, an eminent lawyer, who had planted himself in St Andrew Square, finding- he was in dang-er of having- his view of St Giles's clock shut up by the advancing- line of Princes Street, built the intervening house himself, that he might have it in his power to keep the roof low, for the sake of the view in question ; important to him, he said, as enabling- him to regulate his movements in the morning-, when it was necessary that he should be punctual in his attendance at the Parliament House. The foundation was at length laid of that revolution which has ended in making Edinburgh a kind of double 14 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH, c\tj—Jirst, an ancient and picturesque hill-built one, occu- pied exclusively by the humbler classes; and second, an elegant modern one, of much regularity of aspect, and pos- sessed almost as exclusively by the more refined portion of society. The New Town, keeping pace with the growing prosperity of the country, had, in 1790, been extended to Castle Street ; in 1800, the necessity for a second plan of the same extent still further to the north had been felt, and this was soon after acted upon. Forty years saw the Old Town thoroughly changed as respects population. One after another, its nobles and gentry, its men of the robe, its ' writers,' and even its substantial burghers, had during that time deserted their mansions in the High Street and Canongate, till few were left. Even those modern districts connected with it, as St John Street, New Street, George Square, &c. were beginning to be forsaken for the sake of more elegantly-circumstanced habitations beyond the North Loch. Into the remote social consequences of this change it is not my purpose to enter, beyond the bare remark, that it was only too accordant with that tendency of our pi*e- sent form of civilisation to separate the high from the low, the intelligent from the ignorant — that dissociation, in short, which would in itself run nigh to be a condemnation of all progress, if we were not allowed to suppose that better forms of civilisation are realisable. Enough that I mention the tangible consequences of the revolution — a flooding in of the humbler trading classes where gentles once had been ; the houses of these classes, again, tilled with the vile and miser- able. Now were to be seen hundreds of instances of such changes as Provost Creech indicates in 1783 — 'The Lord Justice Clerk Tinwald's house possessed by a French teacher — Lord President Craigie's house by a rouping-wife or salewoman of old furniture — and Lord Drummore's house left by a chairman for want of accommodation.' 'The house of the Duke of Douglas at the union, now possessed by a wheelwright!' To one who, like myself, was young in the early part of the present century, it was scarcely possible, as he permeated the streets and closes of Ancient Edinburgh, to realise the idea of a time when the great were housed therein. But many a gentleman in middle life, then living perhaps in Queen Street or Charlotte Square, could recollect the close or the common stair where THE CHANGES OF THE LAST EIGHTY YEARS. 15 he had been born, and spent his earliest years, now al- tog-ether given up to a different portion of society. And when the young-er perambulator inquired more narrowly, he could discover traces of this former population. Here and there a carved coat-armorial, with supporters, perhaps even a coronet, arrested attention amidst the obscurities of some wynd or court. ]Jid he ascend a stair and enter a floor, now subdivided perhaps into four or five distinct dwellings, he might readily perceive, in the massive wainscot of the lobby, a proof that the refinements of life had once been there. Still more would this idea be impressed upon him when, passing into one of the best rooms of the old house, he would find not only a continuation of such wainscoting, but perhaps a tolerable landscape by Norie, on a panel above the fireplace, or a ceiling decorated by De la Cour, a French artist, who flourished in Edinburgh about a cen- tury ago. Even j'et he would discover a very few relics (>f gentry maintaining their ground in the Old Town, as if faintly to show what it had once been. These were gene- rally old people, who did not think it worth while to make any change till the great one. There is a melancholy pleasure in recalling what I myself found about 1820, when my researches for this work were commenced. In that year I was in the house of Governor Fergusson, an ancient gentleman of the Pitfour family, in a floor, one stair up, in the Luckenbooths. About the same time I attended the book-sale of Dr Arrot, a physician of good figure, newly de- ceased, in the IMint Close. For several years later, any one ascending a now miserable-looking stair in Blackfriars' Wynd, would have seen a door-plate inscribed with the name Miss Oliphant, a member of the Gask family. Nay, so late as 1832, I had the pleasure of breakfasting with Sir William Macleod Bannatyne in Whiteford House, Canon- gate (now a type-foundry), on which occasion the vener- able old gentleman talked as familiarly of the levees of the sous-ministre for Lord Bute in the old villa at the Abbey Hill, as I could have talked of the affairs of the Canning administration ; and even recalled, as a fresh pic- ture of his memory, his father drawing on his boots to go to make interest in London in behalf of some of the men in trouble for the forty-five, particularly his own brother-in- law, the Clanranald of that day. Such were the connexions 16 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. recently existing- between the past system of things and the present. Now, alas ! the sun of Old-Town g-lory has set for ever. Nothing- is left but the decaying and rapidly-dimi- nishing masses of ancient masonry, and a handful of tra- ditionary recollections, which be it my humble but not unworthy task to transmit to future generations. THE CASTLE HILL. Hugo Arnot — Allan Ramsay— House of the Gordon Family — Sir David Baird — Dr Webster — House of Mary de Guise. The saunter which I contemplate through the streets and stories, the lanes and legends, of Old Edinburgh, may properly commence at the Castle Hill, as it is a marked extremity of the city, as well as its highest ground. The Castle Hill is partly an esplanade, serving as a parade ground for the garrison of the Castle, and partly a street, the upper portion of that vertebral line which, under the various names of Lawnmarket, High Street, and Canongate, extends to Holyrood Palace. The open ground — a scene of warfare during the sieges of the fortress, often a place of execution in rude times — the place, too, where, by a curious legal fiction, the Nova Scotia baronets were infeoffed in their ideal estates on the other side of the Atlantic — was all that Edinburgh possessed as a readily accessible promenade befoi'e the extension of the city. We find the severe acts for a strict observance of the Sabbath, which appeared from time to time in the latter part of the seventeenth and early part of the eighteenth century, denouncing the King's Park, the Pier of Leith, and the Castle Hill, as the places chiefly resorted to for the profane sport of walking. Denounce as they might, human nature could never, I believe, be alto- gether kept off the Castle Hill ; even the most respectable people walked there in multitudes during the intervals between morning and evening service. We have an allu- sion to the promenade character of the Castle Hill in Ram- say's city pastoral, as it may be called, of ' The Young Laird and Edinburgh Katy' — ' Wat ye wha I met yestreen, Coming down the street, my jo ? My mistress in her tartan screen, Fu' bonny, braw, and sweet, my jo. THE CASTLE HILL. 17 " My dear," quoth I, " thanks to the night, That never wished a lover ill, Bince ye're out o' your mother's sight. Let's tali' a walk up to the hill." ' A memory of these Sunday promenading-s here calls me to introduce what I have to say regarding a man of whom there is a strong popular remembrance in Edinburgh. [HUGO ARNOT.] The cleverly-executed History of Edinburgh, published by Arnot in 1779, and which to this day has not been super- seded, gives some respectability to a name which tradition would have otherwise handed down to us as only that of an eccentric gentleman, of remarkably scarecrow figure, and the subject of a few bon-raots. He was the son of a Leith shipmaster, named Pollock, and took the name of Arnot from a small inheritance in Fife. Many who have read his laborious work will be little pre- pared to hear that it was written when the author was between twenty and thirty ; and that, antiquated as his meagre figure looks in Kay's Portraits, he was, at his death in 1786, only thirty-seven. His body had been, in reality, made prematurely old by a confirmed asthma, accompanied by a cough, which he himself said would carry him off like a rocket some day, when a friend re- marked, with reference to his known latitudinarianism — ' Possibly, Hugo, in the contrary direction.' Most of the jokes about poor Hugo's person have been frequently printed — as Harry Erskine meeting him on the street when he was gnawing at a spelding or dried haddock, and congratulating him on lookiiu] so like his meat — and his offending the piety of an old woman who was cheapening a Bible in Creech's shop, by some thoughtless remark, when she first burst out with, ' Oh, you monster ! ' and then turning round and seeing him, added, ' And he's an anatomy too ! ' An epigram by Erskine is less known — • The Scriptures assure us that much is forgiven Tojtesh and to blood by the mercy of Heaven ; But I've searched the whole Bible, and texts can find noue. That extend the assurance to skin and to bone.' Arnot was afflicted by a constitutional irritability to an extent which can hardly be conceived. A printer's boy, handing papers to him over his shoulder, happened to touch VOL. VI. B 18 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. his ear with one of them, when he started up in a rage, and demanded of the trembling' youth what he meant by insult- ing- him in that manner ! Probably from some quarrel arising out of this nervous weakness — for such it really was — the Edinburgh booksellers, to a man, refused to have anything to do with the prospectuses of his ' Criminal Trials,' and Arnot had to advertise that they were to be seen in the coffee-houses, instead of the booksellers' shops. About the time when he entered at the bar (1772), he had a fancy for a young lady named Hay (afterwards Mrs Mac- dougall), sister of a gentleman who succeeded as Marquis of Tweeddale, and then a reigning toast. One Sunday, when he contemplated making up to his divinity on the Castle Hill, after forenoon service, he entertained two young friends at breakfast in his lodgings at the head of the Canongate. By and by, the affairs of the toilet came to be considered. It was then found that Hugo's washer- woman had played false, leaving him in a total destitution of clean linen, or at least of clean linen that was also whole. A dreadful storm took place, but at length, on its calming a little, love found out a way, by taking- the hand-ruffles of one cast garment, in connexion with the front of another, and adding both to the body of a third. In this eclectic form of shirt the meagi'e j'oung philosopher marched forth with his friends, and was rewarded for his perseverance by being allowed a very pleasant chat with the young lady on ' the hill.' His friends standing by had their own enjoy- ment, in reflecting what the beauteous Miss Hay would think if she knew the struggles which her admirer had had that morning in preparing to make his appearance before her. Arnot latterly dwelt in a small house at the end of the Meuse Lane in St Andrew Street, with an old and very particular lady for a neig'hbour in the upper floor. Dis- turbed by the enthusiastic way in which he sometimes rang his bell, the lady ventured to send a remonstrance, which, however, produced no effect. This led to a bad state of matters between them. At leng-th a very pressing and petulant message being handed in one day, insisting that he should endeavour to call his servants i?i a different manricr, what was the lad3''s astonishment next morning to hear a pistol discharged in Arnot's house I He was simply THE CASTLK HILL. 19 complying' with the letter of his neighbour's request, by liring', instead of ringing, as a signal for shaving-water. [ALLAN RAMSAY.] On the north side of the esplanade — enjoying a splendid view of the Firth of Forth, Fife, and Stirlingshires — is the neat little villa of Allan Ramsay, surrounded by its minia- ture pleasure-grounds. The sober industrious life of this exception to the race of poets having resulted in a small competency, he built this odd-shaped house in his latter days, designing to enjoy in it the Iloratian quiet which he had so often eulogised in his verse. The story goes, that, showing it soon after to the clever Patrick Lord Elibank, with much fussy interest in all its externals and accommo- dations, he remarked that the wags were already at work on the subject — they likened it to a g-oose-pie (owing- to the roundness of the shape). ' Indeed, Allan,' said his lordship, ' now I see you in it, I think the wags are not far wrong.' The splendid reputation of Burns has eclipsed that of Ramsay so effectually, that this pleasing* poet, and, upon the whole, amiable and worthy man, is now little reg-arded. Yet Ramsay can never be deprived of the credit of having written the best pastoral poem in the range of British lite- rature — if even that be not too narrow a word — and many of his songs are of great merit. Ramsay was secretly a Jacobite, openly a dissenter from the severe manners and feelings of his day, although a very decent and regular attender of the Old Church in St Giles's. He delighted in music and theatricals, and, as we shall see, encouraged the Assembly. It was also no doubt his own taste which led him, in 1725, to set up a circulating library, whence he diffused plays and other works of fiction among the people of Edinburgh. It appears, from the private notes of the historian Wodrow, that, in 1728, the magistrates, moved by some meddling spirits, took alarm at the effect of this kind of reading on the minds of youth, and made an attempt to put it down, but without effect. One cannot but be amused to find amongst these self-constituted guardians of morality Lord Grange, who kept his wife in unauthorised restraint for several j-ears, and whose own life was a scandal to his professions. Ramsay, as is well known, also attempted to establish a theatre in Edinburjili, but failed. The fol- 20 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. lowing advertisement on this subject appears in the Cale- donian Mercury, September 1736: — ''The New Theatre in Carrubber's Close being: in great forwardness, will be opened the 1st of November. These are to advertise the gentlemen and ladies who incline to purchase annual tickets, to enter their names before the SOth of October next, on which day they shall receive their tickets from Allan Ramsay, on paying 30s. — no more than forty to be subscribed for ; after which none will be disposed of under two guineas.' The late Mrs Murray of Henderland knew Ramsay for the last ten years of his life, her sister having married his son, the celebrated painter. Slie spoke of him to me in 1825 with kindly enthusiasm, as one of the most amiable men she had ever known. His constant cheerfulness and lively conversational powers had made him a favourite amongst persons of rank, whose guest he frequently was. Being very fond of children, he encouraged his daughters in bringing troops of young ladies about the house, in whose sports he would mix with a patience and vivacity wondei'ful in an old man. He used to give these young friends a kind of ball once a-year. From pure kindness for the young, he would help to make dolls for them, and cradles wherein to place these little effigies, with his own hands. But here a fashion of the age must be held in view ; for however odd it may appear, it is undoubtedly true that to make and dispose of dolls, such as children now alone are interested in, was a practice in vogue amongst grown-up ladies who had little to do about a hundred years ago. Ramsay died in 17o7. An elderly female told a friend of mine that she remembered, when a girl living as an apprentice with a milliner in the Grassmarket, being sent to Ramsay Garden to assist in making dead-clothes for the poet. She could recall, however, no particulars of the scene, but the roses blooming in at the window of the death- chamber. The poet's house passed to his son, who enlarged it. Afterwards it came to the son of the painter, the late General John Ramsay, who, dying in October 1845, left this mansion and a large fortune to Mr Murray of Hender- land. So ended the line of the poet. His daughter Chris- tian, an amial)le, kind-hearted woman, said to possess a gift of verse, lived for many years in New Street. At seventy- THK CASTLE HILL. 21 four, she had the misfortune to be thrown down by a hackney-coach, and had her leg' broken; yet she recovered, and lived to the ag-e of eighty-eight. Leading- a solitary life, she took a great fancy for cats. Besides supporting many in her own house, curiously disposed in bandboxes, with doors to go in and out at, she caused food to be laid out for others on her stair and around her house. Not a word of obloquy would she listen to ag-ainst the species, alleg-ing-, when any wickedness of a cat Avas spoken of, that the animal must have acted under provocation, for by nature, she asserted, cats are harmless. Often did her maid go with morning- messag-es to her friends, inquiring", with her compliments, after their pet cats. Good Miss Ramsay was also a friend to horses, and indeed to all creatures. When she observed a carter ill-treating his horse, she would march up to him, tax him with cruelty, and, by the very earnestness of her remonstrances, arrest the barbarian's hand. So also, when she saw one labouring' on the street, with the appearance of defective diet, she would send rolls to its master, intreating- him to feed the animal. These peculiarities, although a little eccentric, are not unpleasing; and I cannot be sorry to record them of the daughter of one whose heart and head were an honour to his country. [house of the GORDON FAMILY.] Tradition points out, as the residence of the Gordon famih', a house, or rather range of building's, situated be- tween Blair's and Brown's Closes, being- almost the fiist mass of building- in the Castle Hill Street on the right-hand side. The southern portion is a structure of lofty and massive form, battlemented at top, and looking out upon a garden which formerly stretched down to the Old Town wall near the Grassmarket, but is now crossed by the access from the King's Bridtre. From the style of building-, I should be disposed to assign it a date a little subsequent to the Restoration. There are, however, no authentic memorials respecting- the alleged connexion of the Gordon family with this house, unless we are to consider as of that character a coronet resembling- that of a marquis, flanked by two deer- hounds, the well-known supporters of this noble family, which tigures over a tinely-moulded door in Blair's Close. The coronet will readily be supposed to poiut to the time 22 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. when the Marquis of Hiintly was the principal honour of the family — that is, previous to 1684, when the title of Duke of Gordon was conferred.* In more recent times, this substantial mansion was the abode of Mr Baird of Newbyth ; and here it was that the late gallant Sir David Baird, the hero of Seringapatam, was born and brought up. Returning in advanced life from long foreign service, this distinguished soldier came to see the home of his youth on the Castle Hill. The respectable indi- vidual whom I found occupying the house in 1824 received his visitor with due respect, and after showing him through the house, conducted him out to the garden. Here the boys of the existing tenant were found actively engaged in throwing cabbage-stalks at tlie tops of the chimneys of the houses of the Grassmarket, situated a little below the level of the garden. On making one plump down the vent, the youngsters set up a great shout of triumph. Sir David fell a-laughing at sight of this example of practical waggery, and intreated the father of the lads 'not to be too angry: he and his brother, when living here at the same age, had indulged in precisely the same amiable amusement, the chimneys then, as now, being so provokingly open to such attacks, that there was no resisting the temptation.' The whole matter might have been put into an axiomatic form — Given a garden with cabbage-stalks, and a set of chimnej's situated at an angle of forty-five degrees below the spot, any boys turned loose into the said garden will be sure to endeavour to bring the cabbage-stalks and the chimneys into acquaintance. * George, sixth Earl of Huntly, took his last illness June 1636, in ' his house in the Canongate.' George, the first duke, wlio had held out the Castle at the Revolution, died December I7I6, at his house in the Citadel of Leith, where he appears to have occasionally resided for some years. I should suppose the house on the Castle Hill to have been inhabited by the family in the interval between these dates. The Citadel seems to have been a little nest of aristocracy, of the Cavalier party. In ITiH, one of its inhabitants was Dame Magdalen Bruce of Kinross, widow of the baronet who had assisted in the Restoration. Here lived with her the Rev. Robert Forbes, Kpiscopal minister of Leith (afterwards bishop of Orkney), from whose collections regarding Charles Edward and his adven- tures a volume of extracts was published by me in 1834. Throughout those troublous days, a little Episcopal congregation was kept together in Leith ; their place of worship being the first Jloor of an old dull-looking house in Queen Street (dated 1015), the lower ticor of which was, in my recollection, a police-oUice. THE CASTLK HILL. 23 [dR WEBSTER.] An isolated house which formerly stood in Webster's Close, a little waj' down the Castle Hill, was the residence of the Rev. Dr Webster, a man eminent in his day on many accounts — a leading: evangelical clerg-yman in Edinburgh, a statist and calculator of extraordinary talent, and a distinguished figure in festive scenes. The first popula- tion returns of Scotland were obtained by him in 1755; and he was the author of that fund for the widows of the clergy of the Established Church, which has proved so great a blessing to many, and still exists in a flourishing state. * He was also deep in the consultations of the magistrates regarding the New Town. It is not easy to reconcile the two leading characteristics of this divine — his being the pastor of a flock of noted sternness, called, from the church in which they assembled, the Tolhooth Whigs ; and his at the same time entering heartily and freely into the convivialities of the more mirth- ful portion of society. Perhaps he illustrated the maxim, that one man may steal horses with impunity, &c. ; for it is related that, going home early one morning with strong symptoms of over-indulgence upon him, and being asked by a friend who met him * what the Tolbooth Whigs would say if they were to see him at this moment?' he instantly replied, ' They would not believe their own eyes.' Some- times he did fall on such occasions under plebeian observa- tion ; but the usual remark was, ' Ah, there is Dr Webster, honest man, going hame, nae doubt, frae some puir afflicted soul he has been visiting. Never does he tire o' welldoing ! ' And so forth. The history of Dr Webster's marriage is romantic. When a young and unknown man, he was employed by a friend to act as go-between, or, as it is termed in Scotland, black-lit, or black-foot, in a correspondence which he was * Before the government bountj' had supplemented the poor stipends of the Scotch church up to £150, many of them were so small, that the widows' allowance from this fund nearly equalled them. Such was the case of Cran- shaws, a pastoral parish among the Lammermoor hills. A former minister of Cranshaws having wooed a lass of humble rank, the father of the lady, when consulted on the subject, said, ' Tak' him, Jenny ; he's as gude deid as living ! ' meaning of course that she would be as well off as a widow, aj in the quality of a wife. 24 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. carrying" on with a young lady of great beauty and accom- plishment. Webster had not acted long* in that character, till the young lady, who had never entertained any affec- tion for his constituent, fell deeply in love with himself. Her birth and expectations were better than his ; and how- ever much he might have been disposed to address her on his own behalf, he never could have thought of such a thing so long as there was such a dilference between their circumstances. The lady saw his diificulty, and resolved to overcome it, and that in the frankest manner. At one of these interviews, when he was exerting all his eloquence in favour of his friend, she plainly told him that he would probably come better speed if he were to speak for himself. He took the hint, and, in a word, was soon after married to her. He wrote upon the occasion an amorous lyric, which exhibits in warm colours the gratitude of a humble lover for the favour of a mistress of superior station, and which is perhaps as excellent altogether in its way as the finest compositions of the kind produced in either ancient or modern times. There is one particularly impassioned verse, in which, after describing a process of the imagina- tion by which, in gazing upon her, he comes to think her a creature of more than mortal nature, he says that at length, unable to contain, he clasps her to his bosom, and — • ' Kissing her lips, she turns woman again ! ' [house of MARY DE GUISE.] The restrictions imposed upon a city requiring defence, appear as one of the forms of misery leading to strange as- sociations. We become in a special degree sensible of this truth, when we see the house of a roj^al personage sunk amidst the impurities of a narrow close in the Old Town of Edinburgh. Such was literally the case of an aged pile of buildings on the north side of the Castle Hill, behind the front line of the street, and accessible by Blyth's, Nairn's, and Tod's Closes, wliich was declared by tradition to have been the residence of Mary de Guise, the widow of James v., and from 1554 to 1560 regent of this realm. Descending the first of these alleys about thirty yards, we came to a dusky, half-ruinous building on the left-hand side, presenting one or two lofty windows and a doorway, surrounded by handsome mouldings ; the whole bearing THE CASTLE HILL. 25 that appearance which says, ' There is here something- that has been of consequence, all hag-gard and disgraced though it now be.' Glancing- to the opposite side of the close, where stood another portion of the same building-, the im- pression was contirraed by further appearances of a goodly style of architecture. These were, in reality, the principal portions of the palace of the Regent Mary ; the former being popularly described as her house, the latter as her oratory or chapel. The close terminated under a portion of the building ; and when the visitor made his way so far, he found an exterior presented northwards, with many windows, whence of old a view must have been commanded, tirst of the gardens descending to the North Loch, and second of the Firth of Forth and Fife. One could easily understand that, when the gardens existed, the north side of the house might have had many pleasant apartments, and been, upon the whole, tolerable as a place of residence, albeit the access by a narrow alley could never have been agreeable. Latterly, the site of the upper part of the garden was occupied by a brushmaker's workshops and yard, while the lower was covered by the Earthen Mound. In the wall on the east side there was included, as a mere portion of the masonry, a stray stone, which had once been an architrave or lintel ; it contained, besides an armorial de- vice flanked by the initials A. A., the legend Nosce Teipsum, and the date 1557. Reverting to the door of the queen's house, which was simply the access of a common stair, we there found an oi-namented architrave, bearing the legend, LAUS ET HONOR DEO, terminated by two pieces of complicated lettering, one much obliterated, the other a monogram of the name of the Virgin Mary, formed of the letters M. R. * Finally, at the extremities of this stone, w^ere two Roman letters of larger size — L R. — doubtless the initials of James Rex, for James * ' The monofn-ams of the name of our blessed lady are formed of the letters M. A., M. R., and A. M., and these stand respectively for Maria, Maria Ue- gina, and Ave Maria. The letter M. was often used by itself to express the name of the blessed virgin, and became a vehicle fur the most beautiful orna- ment and design ; the letter itself being entirely composed of emblems, with aome passage from the life of our l.idy in the void spaces.'— Pui?in"f Glossary of E( cUtiastical OrnanKnt and Costume, 1844. 2G TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. v., the style of cutting being- precisely the same as in the initials seen on the palace built by that king* in Stirling Castle ; a direct proof, it may be remarked, of this having been the residence of the Reg-ent Mary. Passing up a spiral flight of steps, we came to a dark- some lobby, leading to a series of mean apartments, occu- pied by persons of the humblest grade. Immediately within the door was a small recess in the wall, composed of Gothic stonework, and supposed by the people to have been de- signed for containing holy water, though this may well be matter of doubt. Overhead, in the ceiling, was a round entablature, presenting a faded coronet over the defaced out- line of a shield. A similar object adorned the ceiling of the lobby in the second floor, but in better preservation, as the shield bore three ^/icmrs dc lis, with the coronet above, and the letters H. R. below. There was a third of these entab- latures, containing the arms of the city of Edinburgh, in the centre of the top of the staircase. The only other curious object in this part of the mansion was the door of one of the wretched apartments — a specimen of carving, bearing all the appearance of having been contemporary with the builduig", and containing, besides other devices, bust portraits of a gentleman and lady. This is now in the possession of the Society of the Antiquaries of Scotland. A portion of the same building, accessible by a stair nearer the head of the close, contained a hall-like apartment, with other apartments, all remarkable for their unusually lofty ceilings. In the large room were the remains of a spacious decorated chimney, to which, in the recollection of persons still living, there had been attached a chain, serving to confine the tongs to their proper domain. This was the memorial of an old custom, of which it is not easy to see the utility, unless some light be lield as thrown upon it by a Scottish proverb, used when a child takes a thing and says he found it — ' You found it, I suppose, where the Highlandman found the tongs.' In the centre of almost all the ceilings of this part of the mansion I found, in 1824, circular entablatures, with coats of arms and other devices, in stucco, evidently of good workmanship, but obscured by successive coats of whitening. The place pointed out by tradition as the queen-regent's oratory was in the first floor of the building opposite — a T}IE CASTLE HILL. 27 spacious and lofty hall, with larg^e windows desig-ned to make up for the obscurity of the close. Here, besides a finely-carved piscina, was a pretty lare:e recess, of Gothic structure, in the back-wall, evidently designed for keeping thing-s of importance. Many years ag-o, out of the wall behind this recess, there had been taken a small iron box, such as mig-ht have been employed to keep jewellery, but empty. I was the means of its being: gifted to Sir Walter Scott, who had previously told me that ' a passion for such little boxes was one of those that most did beset him ;' and it is now in the collection at Abbotsford. The other portions of the mansion, accessible from diffe- rent allej'S, were generally similar to these, but somewhat finer. One chamber was recognised as the Deid-room ; that is, the room where individuals of the queen's establishment were kept between their death and burial. It was interesting to wander through the dusky mazes of this ancient building, and reflect that they had been occu- pied three centuries ago by a sovereign princess, and one of the most illustrious lineage. Here was the substantial monument of a connexion between France and Scotland, a totally past state of things. She whose ancestors owned Lorraine as a sovereignty, who had spent her youth in the proud halls of the Guises in Picardy, and been the spouse of a Longueville, was here content to live — in a close in Edinburgh! In these obscurities, too, was a government conducted, which had to struggle -with Knox, Glencairn, James Stewart, Morton, and many other powerful men, backed by a popular sentiment which never fails to triumph. It was the misfortune of Mary to be placed in a position to resist the Reformation. Her own character deserved that she should have stood in a more agreeable relation to what Scotland now venerates, for she was mild and just, and sincerely anxious for the good of her adopted country. It is also proper to remember on the present occasion, that * in her court she maintained a decent gravity, nor would she tolerate any licentious practices therein. Her maids of honour were always busied in commendable exercises, she herself being an example to them in virtue, piety, and modesty.'* When all is considered, and we further know * Ktith's Uistory. 28 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. that the building was strong- enough to have lasted many raoi'e ages, one cannot but regret that the palace of Mary de Guise, reduced as it was to vileness, should not now be in existence. The site having been purchased by individuals connected with the Free Church, the buildings were re- moved in 1846, to make room for the erection of an acade- mical institution or college for the use of that body. THE WEST BOW. The Bowhead — Weigh-liouse — Anderson's Pills— Oratories— Colonel Gardiner — 'Bowhead Saints' — 'The Seizers' — Story of a Jacobite Canary— Major Weir — Tulzies — The Tinklarian Doctor — Old Assembly Room — Paul Romieu — 'He that Tholes Overcomes' — Provost Stuart — Donaldson the Bookseller — Bowfoot — The Templars' Lands — The Gallows Stone. [supposed to be written in 1822.] In a central part of Old Edinburgh — the very Little Britain of our city — is a curious, angular, whimsical-looking street, of great steepness and narrowness, called the West Bow. Serving as a connexion between the Grassmarket and Lawnmarket, between the Low and the High Town, it is of considerable fame in our city annals as a passage for the entry of sovereigns, and the scene of the quaint ceremonials used on those occasions. In more modern times, it has been chiefly notable in the recollections of country people as a nest of the peculiarly noisy tradesmen, the white-iron smiths, which causes Robert Fergusson to mark, as one of the features of Edinburgh deserted for a holiday — ' The tinkler billies * o' the Bow Are now less eident f clinUin." Another remarkable circumstance connected with the street in the popular mind, is its having been the residence of the famed wizard Major Weir. All of these particulars serve to make it a noteworthy sort of place, and the im- pression is much favoured by its actual appearance. A perfect Z in figure, composed of tall antique houses, with numerous dovecot-like gables projecting over the foot- way, full of old inscriptions and sculpturings, presenting * Fellows. ♦ Busy. THR WEST BOW. 29 at every few steps some darksome lateral profundity, into which the imag'ination wanders without hindrance or ex- haustion, it seems eminently a place of old g:randmothers* tales, and sure at all times to maintain a g'host or two in its community. When I descend into particulars, it will be seen what g-rounds there truly are for such a surmise. To begin with THE BOWHEAD. This is a comparatively open space, thoug-h partially strait- ened ag-ain by the insertion in it of a clumsy detached old building- called the Wcigh-house, where enormous masses of butter and cheese are continually getting- disposed of. Prince Charles had his guard at the Weigh-house when blockading the Castle ; using, however, for this purpose, not the house itself, but a floor of the adjacent tall tenement in the Lawnmarket, which appears to have been selected on a very intelligible principle, in as far as it was the deserted mansion of one of tlie city clergy, the same Rev. Georg-e Logan who carried on a controversy with Thomas Ruddi- man, in which he took unfavourable views of the title of the Stuart family to the throne, not only then, but at any time. It was, no doubt, as an additional answer to a bad pamphlet that the Highlanders took up their quarters at Mr Log-an's. [Anderson's pills.] In this tall land^ dated 1G90, there is a house on the second floor where that venerable drug, Dr Anderson's pills, is sold, and has been so for above a century. As is well known, the country people in Scotland have to this day a peculiar reverence for these pills, which are, I believe, really a good form of aloetic medicine. They took their origin from a physician of the time of Charles I., who gave them his name. From his daughter, Lillias Anderson, the patent came to a person designed Thomas Weir, who left it to his daughter. The widow of this last person's nephew, Mrs Irving, is now the patentee ; a lady of advanced age, who facetiousl}' points to the very brief series of proprietors intervening between Ur Anderson and herself, as no inex- pressive indication of the virtue of the medicine. [Mrs Irving died in 1837, at the age of ninety-nine.] Portraits of Ander- 30 TRADITIONS OF KDINBURGH. son and his daughter are preserved in this house : the phy- sician in a Vandyke dress, with a book in his hand ; the lady a precise-looking dame, with a pill in her hand about the size of a walnut, saying a good deal for the stonaachs of our ancestors. The people also show a glove which be- longed to the learned physician. [oratories — COLONEL GARDINER. J This house presents a feature which forms a curious me- morial of the manners of a past age. In common with all the houses built from about 1690 to 1740 — a substantial class, still abundant in the High Street — there is at the end of each row of windows corresponding to a separate mansion, a narrow slit-like window, such as might suffice for a closet. In reality, each of these narrow apertures gives light to a small cell — much too small to require such a window — usually entering from the dining-room, or some other principal apartment. The use of these cells was to serve as a retreat for the master of the house, wherein he might perform his devotions. The father of a family was in those days a sacred kind of person, not to be approached by wife or children too familiarly, and expected to be a priest in his own household. Besides his family devotions, he retired to a closet for perhaps an hour each day, to utter his own prayers;* and so regular was the custom, that it o-ave rise, as we see, to this peculiarity in housebuilding. Nothing could enable us more clearly to appreciate tliat strong outward demonstration of religious feeling which pervaded the nation for half a century after the agonies of ' the Persecution.' I cannot help here mentioning the interest with which I have visited l?ankton House, in East Lothian, where, as is well known, Colonel Gardiner spent several years of his life. The oratory of the pious soldier is pointed out by tradition, and it forms even a more ex- pressive memorial of the time than the closets in the Edin- burgh houses. Connected with a small front room, which might have been a library or study, is a little recess, such as dust-pans and brooms are kept in, consisting of the an- gular space formed by a stair which passes overhead to the ♦ Not improbably th!8 was dniio in a spirit of literal obedience to the in- junction (Matthew, vi. (i), ' Tliou, when thou praycst, enter into thy closet." Commentators on this passaKC mention that every Jewiah house had a place uf secret devotion built over the porcli. THE WEST BOW. 31 upper floor. This place is wholly without lifzfht, yet it is said to have been the place sacred to poor Gardiner's pri- vate devotions. What leaves hardly any doubt on the matter is, that there has been a wooden bolt within, capable only of being- shot from the inside, and therefore unques- tionably used by a person desiring- to shut himself in. Here, therefore, in this darksome, stifling- little cell, had this extraordinary man spent hours in those devotional exercises by which he was so much distinguished from his class. [bOWHEAD saints — SEIZERS— A JACOBITE CANARY.] In the latter part of the seventeenth century, the inha- bitants of the West Bow enjoyed a peculiar fame for their piety and zeal in the Covenanting- cause. The wits of the opposite faction are full of allusions to them as ' the Bow- head Saints,' ' the g-odly plants of the Bowhead,' and so forth. [This is the basis of an allusion by a later Cavalier wit, when describing- the exit of Lord Dundee from Edin- burg-h, on the occasion of the settlement of the crown upon William and Mary — ' As he rode down the sanctified bends of the Cow, nka carline was flyting, and shaking her pow ; But some young plants of grace, that looked couthie and slie, Said, " Luck to thy bonnet, thou bonnle Dundee ! "' It is to be feared that Sir Walter has here shown a relent- ing- towards the 'young- plants,' for which they would not have thanked him.] All the writing-s of the wits of their own time speak of the system to which they were opposed as one of unraitig-ated sternness. It was in those days a custom to patrol the streets during- the time of divine service, and take into captivity all persons found walking- abroad; and indeed make seizure of whatever could be re- g-arded as g-uilty of Sabbath-breaking-. It is said that, led by a sneaking- sense, the patrol one day lig-hted upon a joint of meat in the course of being- roasted, and made prize of it, leaving- the grraceless owner to chew the spit. On another occasion, about the year 1735, a capture of a different kind was made. ' The people about that time,' says Arnot, ' were in use to teach their birds to chant the song-s of their party. It happened that the blackbird of an honest Jacobitical barber, which from his cag-e on the outside of 32 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the window gave oiFence to the zealous Whig-s by his songfs, was neglected, on a Saturday evening, to be brought within the house. Next morning he tuned his pipe to the usual air, The king shall enjoy his own apam. One of the seizers, in his holy zeal, was enrag-ed at this manifestation of im- piety and treason in one of the feathered tribe. He went up to the house, seized the bird and the cage, and with much solemnity lodged them in the City-Guard.'* Penny- cook, a burgess bard of the time, represents the ofBcer as addressing the bird — • Had ye been taught by me, a Bowhead saint. You'd sung the Solemn League and Covenant, Bessy of Lanark, or the Last Good- Night ; But you're a bird prelatic — that's not right. * * Oh could my baton reach the laveroclis too, They're chirping Jamie, Jamie, just like you : I hate vain birds that lead malignant lives. But love the chanters to the Bowhead wives.' [major weir.] It must have beeii a sad scandal to this peculiar com- munity when Major Weir, one of their number, was found to have been so wretched an example of human infirmity. The house occupied by this man still exists, though in an altered shape, in a little court accessible by a narrow passage near the first angle of the street. His history is obscurely reported ; but it appears that he was of a good family in Lanarkshire, and had been one of the ten thousand men sent by the Scottish Covenanting Estates in 1641 to assist in suppressing the Irish Papists. Having afterwards risen to the rank of major in the Town-Guard of Edinburgh, he became distinguished for a life of peculiar sanctity, even in an age when that was the prevailing tone of the public mind. According to a contemporary account, * His garb was still a cloak, and somewhat dark, and he never went without his staff. He was a tall black man, and ordinarily looked down to the ground ; a grim countenance, and a big nose. At length he became so notoriously regarded among the Presbj'terian strict sect, that if four met together, be sure Major Weir was one. At private meetings he prayed to admiration, which made many of that stamp court his con- * History of Edinburgh, p. 205, noU. THE WEST BOW. 33 vpi-se. He never married, but lived in a private lodg-ing- with his sister Grizel Weir. Many resorted to his house, to join with him, and hear him pray ; but it was observed that he could not officiate in any holy duty without the black staff, or rod, in his hand, and leaninc^ upon it, which made those who heard him pray admire his flood in prayer, his ready extemporary expression, his heavenly gesture ; so that he was thought more angel than man, and was termed bj'' some of the holy sisters ordinarily A/if/clieal Thomas.' Ple- beian imaginations have since f'ructilied reg'arding the staff, and crones will still seriously tell how it could run a message to a shop for anj' article which its proprietor wanted ; how it could answer the door when any one called upon its master ; and that it used to be often seen running before him, in the capacity of a link-boy, as he walked down the Lawnmarket. After a life characterised externally by all the graces of devotion, but polluted in secret by crimes of the most revolt- ing nature, and which little needed the addition of wizardry to excite the horror of living men, Major Weir fell into a severe sickness, which affected his mind so much, that he made open and voluntary confession of all his wickedness. The tale was at first so incredible, that the provost. Sir Andrew Ramsay, refused for some time to take him into custody. At length himself, his sister (partner of one of his crimes), and his staff, were secured by the mag'istrates, together with certain sums of money, which were found wrapped up in rags in different parts of the house. One of these pieces of rag being thrown into the tire by a bailie who had taken the whole in charge, flew up the chimne}', and made an explosion like a cannon. While the wretched man lay in prison, he made no scruple to disclose the par- ticulars of his guilt, but refused to address himself to the Almighty for pardon. To every request that he would pray, he answered in screams, ' Torment me no more — I am tormented enough already ! ' Even the offer of a Presbyterian clergyman, instead of an established Episcopal minister of the city, had no effect upon him. He was tried April 9, 1670, and being found guilty, was sentenced to be strangled and burnt between Edinburgh and Leith. His sister, who was tried at tlie same time, was sentenced to be hanged in the Grassmarket. The execution of the profli- VOL. VI. c 34 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. g-ate major took place, April 14, at the place indicated by the judge,* When the rope was about his neck, to pre- pare him for the fire, he was bid to say, ' Lord, be merciful to me ! ' but he answered, as before, ' Let me alone — I will not — I have lived as a beast, and I must die as a beast ! ' After he had dropped lifeless in the flames, his stick was also cast into the fire ; and, ' whatever incanta- tion was in it,' says the contemporary writer already quotedjt ' the persons present own that it gave rare turn- ings, and was long a-burning, as also himself.' The conclusion to which the humanity of the present age would come regarding Weir — that he was mad — is favoured by some circumstances, for instance, his answering one who asked if he had ever seen the devil, that ' the only feeling he ever had of him was in the dark.' What chiefly countenances the idea, is the unequivocal lunacy of the sister. This miserable woman confessed to witchcraft, and related, in a serious manner, many things which could not be true. Many years before, a fiery coach, she said, had come to her brother's door in broad day, and a sti-anger invited them to enter, and they proceeded to Dalkeith. On the way, another person came and whispered in her brother's ear something which aff'ected him ; it proved to be super- natural intelligence of the defeat of the Scotch army at Worcester, which took place that day. Her brother's power, she said, lay in his staff. She also had a gift for spinning above other women, but the yarn broke to pieces in the loom. Her mother, she declared, had been also a witch. 'The secretest thing- that I, or any of the family could do, when once a mark appeared upon her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great distance.' This mark could also appear on her own forehead when she pleased. At the request of the company present, ' she put back her head- dress, and seeming to frown, there was an exact horse-shoe shaped for nails in her wrinkles, terrible enough, I assure you, to the stoutest beholder.'! At the place of execution * A BenfleiTiHn, who hi\d the spot pointed out to him by his father sixty years ago (1833), mentions that it is row occupied by the buildings and court- yard of Messrs Crichton, Gall, and Thomson's coachwork, on tho declivity of Grcenside, opposite to the end of York I'lace, and visible from the Calton Hill. t The Uev. Mr Frazer, minister of Wardlaw, in his ' Divine Providences' (MS. Adv. Lib ), dated Ki?!). i ' Satan's Invisible World Discovered." THE WEST BOW. 35 Fhe acted in a furious manner, and with difficulty could be prevented from throwing- off her clothes, in order to die, as she said, ' with all the shame she could.' The treatise just quoted makes it plain that the case of Weir and his sister had immediately become a fruitful theme for the iraagfinations of the vulgar. We there receive the following story: — 'Some few days before he discovered himself, a gentlewoman coming from the Castle Hill, where her husband's niece was lying-in of a child, about midnight perceived about the Bowhead three women in windows shouting, laughing, and clapping their hands. The gentle- woman went forward, till, at Major M'eir's door, there arose, as from the street, a woman about the length of two ordi- nary females, and stepped forward. The gentlewoman, not as yet excessively feared, bid her maid step on, if by the lantern they could see what she was ; but haste what they could, this long-legged spectre was still before them, moving her body with a vehement cachinnation and great unmea- surable laughter. At this rate the two strove for place, till the giantess came to a narrow lane in the Bow, commonly called the Stinking Close, into which she turning, and the gentlewoman looking after her, perceived the close full of flaming torches (she could give them no other name), and as if it had been a great number of people stentoriously laughing, and gaping with tahees of laughter. This sight, at so dead a time of night, no people being in the win- dows belonging to the close, made her and her servant haste home, declaring all that they saw to the rest of the family.' For upwards of a century after Major Weir's death, he continued to be the bugbear of the Bow, and his house remained uninhabited. His apparition was frequently seen at night, flitting, like a black and silent shadow, about the street. His house, though known to be deserted by eveiy- thing human, was sometimes observed at midnight to be full of lights, and heard to emit strange sounds, as of dancing, howling, and, what is strangest of all, spinning. Some people occasionally saw the major issue from the low close at midnight, mounted on a black horse without a head, and gallop off in a whirlwind of flame. Nay, some- times the whole of the inhabitants of the Bow would be roused from their sleep at an early hour in the morning by 36 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the sound as of a coach and six, first rattling- up the Lawn- mavket, and then thundering down the Bow, stopping at the head of the terrible close for a few minutes, and then rattling and thundering back ag'ain — being neither more nor less than Satan come in one of his best equipages to take home the ghosts of the major and his sister, after they had spent a night's leave of absence in their terrestrial dwelling. About fifty years ago, when the shades of superstition began universally to give way in Scotland, Major Weir's house came to be reg-arded with less terror by the neigh- bours, and an attempt was made by the proprietor to find a person who should be bold enough to inhabit it. Such a person was procured in William Patullo, a poor man of dis- sipated habits, who, having been at one time a soldier and a traveller, had come to disregai'd in a great measure the superstitions of his native country, and was now glad to possess a house upon the low terms offered by the landlord, at whatever risk. Upon its being known that Major Weir's house was about to be reinhabited, a great deal of cui'iosity was felt by people of all ranks as to the result of the experi- ment ; for there was scarcely a native of the city who had not felt, since his boyhood, an intense interest in all that concerned that awful fabric, and yet remembered the nume- rous terrible stories which he had heard respecting it. Even before entering upon his hazardous undertaking, William Patullo was looked upon with a flattering sort of interest, simila.r to that which we feel respecting a regiment on the march to active conflict. It was the hope of many that he would be the means of retrieving a valuable possession from the dominion of darkness. But Satan soon let them know that he does not tamely relinquish any of the outposts of his kingdom. On the very first night after Patullo and his spouse had taken up their abode in the house, as the worthy couple were Ij^ing awake in their bed, not unconscious of a certain de- gree of fear— a dim uncertain liglit proceeding from the gathered embers of their fire, and all being silent around them — they suddenly saw a form like that of a calf, which came forward to tlie bed, and setting its fore-feet upon the stonk, looked steadfastly at the unfortunate pair. When it had contemplated them thus for a few minutes, to their THE WEST BOW. 07 great relief it at length took itself away, and slowly retir- ing-, gradually vanished from their sight. As might bf expected, they deserted the house next morning ; and for another half century no other attera]it was made to embank this part of the world of light from tlie aggressions of the world of darkness. It may here be mentioned that, at no very remote time there were several houses in the Old Town which had the credit of being- haunted. It is said there is one at this day in the Lawnmarket (a flat), which has been shut up from time immemorial. The story goes that one night, as pre- parations were making for a supper party, something- oc- curred which obliged the family, as well as all the assem- bled guests, to retire with precipitation, and lock up the house. From that night it has never once been opened, nor was any of the furniture withdrawn : the very 2:oo&t which was undergoing the process of being roasted at the time of the occuri-ence, is still at the tire ! No one knows to whom the house belongs ; no one ever inquires after it ; no one living ever saw the inside of it ; it is a condemned house! There is something peculiarly dreadful about a house under these circumstances. What sights of horror might present themselves if it were entered! Satan is the ultimus hcerc'S of all such unclaimed property! Besides the many old houses that are haunted, there are several endowed with the simple credit of having been the scenes of murders and suicides. Some contain rooms which had particular names commemorative of such events, and these names, handed down as they had been from one generation to another, usualh^ suggested the remembrance of some dignitied Scottish families, probably the former tenants of the houses. There is a common-stair in the Lawnmarket, which was supposed to be haunted by the ghost of a gentleman who had been mysteriously killed, about a century ago, in open daylight, as he was ascending to his own house : the aflair was called to mind by old people on the similar occasion of the murder of Begbie. A deserted house in Mary King's Close (behind the Royal Exchange), is believed by some to have met with that fate for a very fearful reason. The inhabitants at a remote period were, it is said, compelled to abandon it by the supernatural appear- ances which took place in it on the very lirst night afit-r 38 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. they had made it their residence. At midnig-ht, as the g-ood- man was sitting with his wife by the fire reading- his Bible, and intending- immediately to go to bed, a strange dimness which suddenly fell upon his light caused him to raise bis eyes from the book. He looked at the candle, and saw it burning blue. Terror took possession of his frame. Turn- ing away his eyes, there was, directly before him, and ap- parently not two yards off, the head as of a dead person, looking him straight in the face. There was nothing but a head, though that seemed to occupy the precise situation in regard to the floor which it might have done had it been supported by a body of the ordinary stature. The man and his wife fainted with terror. On awaking, darkness per- vaded the room. Presently the door opened, and in came a hand holding a candle. This came and stood — that is, the body supposed to be attached to the hand stood — beside the table, whilst the terrified pair saw two or three couples of feet skip along the floor, as if dancing. The scene lasted a short time, but vanished quite away upon the man gather- ing strength to invoke the protection of Heaven. The house was of course abandoned, and remained ever afterwards shut up. Such were grandams' tales at no remote period in our northern capital — * Where Learning, with his eagle eyes, Seeks Science in her coy abode.' [tulzies.] At the Bowhead there happened, in the year 1596, a combat between James Johnston of Westerhall and a gen- tleman of the house of Somerville, which is thus related in that curious book, the * Memorie of the Somervills.' ' The other actione wherin Westerhall was concerned happened three years thereftir in Edinburgh, and was only personal on the same accoxint, betwext Westerhall and Bread (Broad) Hugh Somervill of the Writes. This gentle- man had often formerly foughten with Westerhall upon equal termes, and being now in Edinburgh about his privat affaires, standing at the head of the West Bow, Westerhall bj'' accident comeing up the same, some officious and un- happy fellow says to Westerhall, " There is Bread Hugh Somervill of the Writes." Whereupon Westerhall, fancying he stood there either to waitt him, or out of contenijit, he THE WKST now. 39 immediately marches up with his sword drawen, and with the opening- of his mouth, cryin<^, " Turne, villane ;" he cuttes Writes in the hint head a deep and sore wound, the fouUest stroak that ever Westerhall was knoune to give, acknowledji^ed soe, and much regrated eftirwards by him- self. Writes finding- himself strucken and wounded, seeing Westerhall (who had not offered to double his stroak), drawes, and within a short tyme puttes Westerhall to the defensive part; for being the taller man, and one of the strongest of his time, with the advantage of the hill, he presses him sore. Westerhall reteires by little, traverseing the breadth of the Bow, to gain the advantage of the ascent, to sujiply the de- fect of nature, being of low stature, which Writes observeing, keepes closse to him, and beares him in front, that he might not quyte what good fortune and nature had given him. Thus they continued neer a quarter of ane hour, clearing the callsay,* so that in all the strait Bow there was not one to be seen without their shop doores, neither durst any man attempt to red them, every stroak of their swords threaten- ing present death both to themselves and others that should come neer them. Haveing now come from the head of the Bow neer to the foot thereof, Westerhall being in a pair of black buites, which for ordinary he wore closse drawen up, was quyte tyred. Therefore he stepes back within a shop doore, and stood upon his defence. The very last stroak that Writes gave went neer to have brocken his broad sword in peaces, haveing hitt the lintell of the door, the marke whereof remained there a long tyme. Thereftir, the toune being bj' this tj'me all in ane uproar, the halbertiers come- ing to seaze upon them, they wer separated and privatly convoyed to ther chambers. Ther wounds but slight, except that which Writes had upon his head proved very danger- ous ; for ther was many bones taken out of it ; however, at lenth, he was perfectly cured, and the parties themselves, eftir Hugh Lord Somerville's death, reconcealled, and all injuries forgotten.' In times of civil war, personal rencontres of this kind, and even skirmishes between bands of armed men — usually called tulzies — wex*e of no unfrequent occurrence upon the * The causeway. A Bkinnish fnuRht between the Ilaniiltons and l)n>i- Rlasses, upon the Hi(rh Street of Ediaburgb, in the year 151.'), was popularly termed Ckanse the Cuutewajf. 40 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. streets of Edinburgh. They abounded during the troublous time of the minority of James VI. On the 24th of Novem- ber 15G7, the Laird of Airth and the Laird of Wemyss met upon the Hig-h Street, and, together with their followers, fought a bloody battle, ' many,' as Birrel the chronicler re- ports, ' being- hurte on both sides by shote of pistoll.' Three days afterwards there was a strict proclamation, forbidding ' the wearing- of guns or pistolls, or aney sick-like fyerwork ingyne, under ye paine of death, the king's guards and shouldours only excepted.' This circumstance seems to be referred to in 'The Abbot,' where the Regent Murray, in allusion to Lord Seyton's rencontre with the Leslies, in which Roland Graeme had borne a distinguished part, says, ' These broils and feuds would shame the capital of the Great Turk, let alone that of a Christian and reformed state. But if I live, this gear shall be amended; and men shall say,' (Sec. On the 30th of July 1588, according to the same autho-. rity. Sir William Stewart was slain in Blackfriars' Wynd by the Earl of Bothwell, who was the most famed disturber of the public peace in those times. The quarrel had arisen on a former occasion, on account of some despiteful language used by Sir William, when the fiery earl vowed the destruc- tion of his enemy in words too shocking to be repeated; ' sua therafter rancountering Sir William in ye Blackfriar Wynd by chance, told him he void now * * * ; and vith yat drew his sword ; Sir William standing to hes defence, and having hes back at ye vail, je earle mad a thrust at him vith his raper, and strake him in at the back and out at the belley, and killed him.' Ten years thereafter, one Robert Cathcart, who had been with the Earl of Bothwell on this occasion, though it does not appear that he took an active hand in the murder, was slain in revenge by William Stewart, son of the deceased, while standing inoffensively at the head of Peebles Wynd, near the Tron. In June 1605, one William Thomson, a dagger-maker in the West Bow, which was even then remarkable for iron- working handicraftsmen, was slain by John Waterstone, a neighbour of his own, who was next day beheaded on the Castle Hill for his crime. In 1640, the Lawnmarket was the scene of a personal THE WEST BOW. 41 combat between Major Somerville, commander of the forces then in the Castle, devoted to the Covenanting* interest (a relation of Braid Hug-h in the preceding- extract), and one Captain Crawfuird, which is related in the following- pic- turesque and interesting manner by the same writer : — ' But it would appear this gentleman conceived his affront being- publict, noe satisfactione acted in a private way could save his honour; therefore to repair the same, he resolves to challange and lig:ht Somervill upon the Hig-li Street of Edenburgh, and at such a tyme when ther should be most spectators. In order to this desig-ne, he takes the occasione, as this gentleman was betwext ten and eleven hours in the foirnoon hastily comeing- from the Castle (haveing been then sent for to the Committie of Estates and General Leslie anent some important busines), to assault him in this man- ner; Somervill being past the Weigh-house, Captaine Craw- fuird observeing him, presentlie steps into a high chope upon the south side of the Landmercat, and there layes by his cloak, haveing a long broad sword and a large Pligh- land durke by his side ; he comes up to Somervill, and with- out farder ceremonie sayes, " If you be a pretty man, draw- your sword ;" and with that word puUes out his oune sword with the dagger. Somervill at lirst was somewhat stertled at the impudence and boldnesse of the man that durst soe openly and avowedly assault him, being in publict charge, and even then on his duty. But his honour and present preservatione gave him noe tyme to consult the conveniency or inconveniency he was now under, either as to his present charge or disadvantage of weapons, haveing only a great kaine staff* in his hand, which for ordinary he walked still with, and that same sword which Generall Rivane had lately gifted him, being a half-rapper sword backed, hinging in a shoulder-belt far back, as the fashion was then, he was forced to guaird two or three strokes with his kaine before he got out his sword, which being now drawne, he soon puts his adversary to the defencive part, by bearing up soe close to him, and putting home his thrusts, that the cap- taine, for all his courage and advantage of weapons, was forced to give back, having now much adoe to parie the i-edoubled thrusts that Somervill let in at him, being now au-oeintr. 42 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. ' The combat (for soe in effect it was, albeit accidental) beg-ane about the midle of the Landmercat. Soinervill drives doune the captaine, still figfhting-, neer to the gold- smiths' chops, where, fearing- to be nailled to the boords (these chops being then all of timber), he resolved by ane notable blow to revenge all his former aifronts ; makeing thairfor a fent, as if he had designed at Somervill's right side, haveing parried his thrust with his dagger, he sud- denly turnes his hand, and by a back-blow with his broad- sword he thought to have hamshekelled * him in one, if not both of his legges, which Somervill only prevented by nimbly leaping backward at the tyme, interposeing the great kaine that was in his left hand, which was quyte cut through with the violence of the blow. And now Provi- dence soe ordered it, that the captaine missing his mark, overstrake himself soe far, that in tyme he could not recover his sword to a fit posture of defence, untill Somervill haveing beaten up the dagger that was in the captaine's left hand with the remaineing part of his oune stick, he instantly closes with him, and with the pummil of his sword he instantly strikes him doune to the ground, where at first, because of his baseness, he was mynded to have nailled him to the ground, but that his heart relented, haveing him in his mercy. And att that same instant ther happened several of his oune soulders to come in, who wer soe incensed, that they wer ready to have cut the poor captaine all in pieces, if he had not rescued him out of theire hands, and saw him safely convoyed to prisone, where he was layd in the irones, and continued in prisone in a most miserable and wretched condition somewhat more than a year.' f [the tinklarian doctor.] In the early part of the last century, the Bowhead was distinguished as the residence of an odd half-crazy varlet of a tinsmith named William Mitchell, who occasionally held forth as a preacher, and every now and then astounded the quiet people of Edinburgh with some pamphlet full of satirical personalities. He seems to have been altogether a •strange mixture of fanaticism, humour, and low cunning. In one of his publications — a single broadside, dated 1713 — * Hamstringed. f Memorie of the Somervills, vol. ii., p. 271. THE WEST BOW. 43 he lias a squib upon the mapstrates, in the form of a leit, or list, of a new set, whom he proposes to introduce in their stead. At the end he sets forward a claim on his own behalf, no less than that of representing- the city in parlia- ment. In another of his prose pieces he g-ives a curious account of a journey which he made into France, where, he affirms, * the king-'s court is six times bigger than the king' of Britain's ; his guards have all feathers in their hats, and their horse-tails are to their heels ; and their king- [Louis XV.j is one of the best-favoured boys that you can look upon — blithe-like, with black hair; and all his people are better natured in general than the Scots or English, except the priests. Their women seem to be modest, for they have no fardingales. The greatest wonder I saw in France, was to see the braw people fall down on their knees on the clarty ground when the priest comes by, carrying the cross, to give a sick person the sacrament.' The Tinklarian Doctor, for such was his popular appella- tion, appears to have been fully acquainted with an inge- nious expedient, long afterwards held in view by publishers of juvenile toy-books. As in certain sage little histories of Tommy and Harry, King Pepin, &c. we are sure to find that 'the good boy who loved his lessons' always bought his books from ' kind, good, old Mr J. Newberry, at the Corner of St Paul's Churchyard, where the g'reatest assort- ment of nice books for good boys and girls is always to be had' — so in the works of Mr Mitchell we find some sly encomium upon the Tinklarian Doctor constantly peeping forth ; and in the pamphlet from which the above extract is made, he is not forgetful to impress his professional ex- cellence as a whitesmith. ' I have,' he says, ' a good penny- worth of pewter spoons, fine, like silver — none such made in Edinburgh — and silken pocks for wigs, and French white pearl-beads ; all to be sold for little or nothing.' Vide ' A part of the works of that Eminent Divine and Historian, Dr William Mitchell, Professor of Tinklarianism in the TTniversitj-- of the Bowhead ; being a Syze of Divinity, Humanity, History, Philosophj--, Law, and Pliysick ; Com- posed at Various Occasions for his own Satisfaction and the World's Illumination.' In his works — all of whicli were adorned with a cut of the Mitchell arms — he does not scruple to make the personages whom he introduces speak of 44 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. himself as a much wiser man than the archbishop of Canter- bury, all the clero-ymen of his native country, and even the magistrates of Edinburgh ! One of his last productions was a pamphlet on the murder of Captain Porteous, which he concludes by saying-, in the true spirit of a Cameronian martyr, ' If the king and clergy gar hang me for writing this, I'm content, because it is long- since any man was hanged for religion.' The learned Tinklarian was destined, however, to die in his bed ; an event which came to pass in the year 1740. The profession of which the Tinklarian Doctor subscribed himself a member, has long been predominant in the West Bow, We see from a preceding extract that it reckoned dag- ger-makers among its worthy denizens in the reign of James VI. But this trade has long been happily extinct every- wliere in Scotland; though their less formidable brethren the whitesmiths, coppersmiths, and pewterers, have continued down to our own da}' to keep almost unrivalled possession of the Bow. Till within these few years, there was scarcely a shop in this street occupied by other tradesmen ; and it might be supposed that the noise of so many hammermen, pent up in a narrow thoroughfare, would be extremely an- noying to the neighbourhood. Yet however disagreeable their clattering might seem to strangers, it is generally ad- mitted that the people who lived in the West Bow became habituated to the noise, and felt no inconvenience what- ever from its ceaseless operation upon their ears. Nay, they rather exjierienced inconvenience from its cessation, and only felt annoyed when any period of rest arrived and stopped it. Sunday morning, instead of favouring repose, made them restless ; and when they removed to another part of the town, beyond the reach of the sound, sleep was unattainable in the morning for some weeks, till they got accustomed to the quiescence of their new neigh- bourhood. An old gentleman once told me, that having occasion in his youth to lodge for a short time in the West Bow, he found the incessant clanking extremely disagree- able, and at last entered into a paction with some of the workmen in his immediate neighbourhood, who promised to let him have another hour of quiet sleep in the mornings for the consideration of some such matter as half-a-crown to drink on Saturday night. The next day happening (out THE WEST BOW. 45 of his knowledg'e) to be some species of Saint Monday, his annoyers did not work at all ; but such was the force of a habit acquired even in a week or little more, that our friend awoke precisely at the moment when the hammers used to commence ; and he was g-lad to get liis bargain cancelled as soon as possible, for fear of another morning-'s want of di.— turbance. [old assembly room.] At the first angfle of the Bow, on the west side of the street, is a tall picturesque-lookinsr house, which tradition points to as having: been the tirst place where the fashion- al)les of Edinburg-h held their dancing- assemblies. Over the door is a well-cut sculjiture of the arms of the Somer- ville family, togrether with the initials P. J. and J. W., and the date 1002. These are memorials of the origfinal owner of the mansion, a certain Peter Somerville, a wealthy citizen, at one time filling- a dignified situation in the mag-istracy, and father of Bartholomew Somerville, who was a noted benefactor to the then infant university of Edinburg-h. The architrave also bears a leg-end (the title of the eleventh psalm), IN DOMINO CONFIDO. Ascending- by the narrow spiral stair, we come to the second floor, now occupied by a dealer in wool, but pre- senting- such appearances, as leaye no doubt that it once con- sisted ol' a single lofty wainscoted room, with a carved oak ceiling-. Here, then, did the fair ladies whom Allan Ramsaj- and A\'illiam Hamilton celebrate, meet for the recreation of dancing: with their toupeed and dee])-skirted beaux. There, in that little side-room, formed by an outsliot from the building-, did the merrj' sons of Euterpe retire to rosiu ihcii' bows during- the intervals of the performance. Alas ! dark are the walls which once g-lowed with festive light; bur- dened is that floor, not with twinkling feet, but with the most sluggish of inanimate substances. And as for the fiddlers'-room — enough — * A merry place it was in days of yore, But something ails it now — the place is cursed.'* Dancing-, although said to be a favourite amusement and * This liouse was demolished in 1830. 46 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. exercise of the Scottish people, has always been discoun- tenanced, more or less, in the superior circles of society, or only indulged after a very abstemious and rigid fashion, until a comparatively late age. Everything that could be called public or promiscuous amusement was held in abhor- rence by the Presbyterians, and only struggled through a desultory and degraded existence by the favour of the Jaco- bites, who have always been a less strait-laced part of the community. Thus, there was nothing like a conventional system of dancing in Edinburgh till the year 1710, when at length a private association was commenced under the name of ' the Assembly ;' and probably its tirst quarters were in this humble domicile. The persecution which it experi- enced from rigid thinkers, and the uninstructed populace of that age, would appear to have been very great. On one occasion, we are told, the company were assaulted by an in- furiated rabble, and the door of their hall perforated with red-hot spits.* Allan Ramsay, who was the friend of all amusements which he conceived to tend only to cheer this sublunary scene of care, thus alludes to the Assembly : — ' Sic as against the Assembly speak, The rudest sauls betray, When matrons noble, wise, and meek. Conduct the healthfu' play. Where they appear nae vice daur keek, But to what's guid gies way. Like night, sune as the morning creek Has ushered in the day. Dear E'nburgh, shaw thy gratitude, And o' sic friends mak sure, Wha strive to mak our minds less rude, And help our wants to cure ; Acting a generous part and guid. In bounty to the poor : Sic virtues, if right understood. Should every heart allure.' We can easily see from this, and other symptoms, that the Assembly had to make many sacrifices to the spirit which sought to abolish it. In reality, the dancing was conducted under such severe rules, as to render the whole affair more like a night at La Trap])e than anything else. So lately as 1753, when the Assembly had fallen under the control of a * Jackson's History of the Stage, p. 418. THE WEST BOW. 47 set of directors, and was much more of a public affair than formerly, we tind Goldsmith giving' the following grajihic account of its meetings, in a letter to a friend in his own country. The author of the Deserted VlUaf/e was now studying the medical profession, it must be recollected, at the university of Edinburgh : — ' Let nie say something of their balls, which are very frequent here. When a stranger enters the dancing- hall, he sees one end of the room taken up with the ladies, who sit dismally in a group by themselves ; on the other end stand their pensive partners that are to be ; but no more intercourse between the sexes than between two countries at war. The ladies, indeed, may ogle, and the gentlemen sigh, but an embargo is laid upon any closer commerce. At length, to interrupt hostilities, the lady-directress, intendant, or what you will, pitches on a gentleman and a lady to walk a minuet, which they perform with a formality approaching to despondence. After five or six couple have thus walked the gauntlet, all stand up to country dances, each gentle- man furnished with a partner from the aforesaid lady-direc- tress. So thej' dance much, and say nothing, and thus con- cludes our Assembly. I told a Scotch gentleman that such a profound silence resembled the ancient procession of the Roman matrons in honour of Ceres ; and the Scotch gentle- man told me (and, faith, I believe he was right) that I was a very great pedant for my pains.' * * In the same letter, however, Goldsmith allows the beauty of the women and the good-breeding of the men. It may add to the curiosity of the whole affair, that, when the Assembly was reconstituted in February 1746, after several years of cessation, the first of a set of regula- tions hung up in the hall* was — ' No lady to he admitted in a night-gown, and no gentle- man in boots.' The eighth rule was — 'No misses in skirts and jackets, robe-coat5, nor stay-bodied gowns, to be allowed to dance in country dances, but in a sett by themselves.' In all probability it was in this very dingy house that Goldsmith beheld the scene he has so well described. At least it appears that the improved Assembly Room in Bell's * Sec Notes from the necords of the Assembly Rooms of Edinburgh. Edin- burgh : Neil and Co. 1842. 48 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. SVynd (which has latterly served as a part of the accommo- dations of the Commercial Bank) was not built till 17G6. Arnot, in his History of Edinburgh, describes the Assembly Room in Bell's Wj-nd as very inconvenient, which was the occasion of the present one being' built in George- Street in 1784. [PAUL ROMIEU.] At this angle of the Bow the original city wall crossed the line of the street, and there was, accordingly, a gate at this spot, of which the only existing memorial is one of the hooks for the suspension of the hinges, tixed in the front wall of a house, at the height of about five feet from the ground. It is from the arch forming this gateway that the street takes its name, hoio being an old word for an arch. The house immediately toithout this ancient port, on the east side of the street, was occupied, about the beginning of the last century, and perhaps at an earlier period, by Paul Romieu, an emment watchmaker, supposed to have been one of the French refugees driven over to this country in consequence of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. This is the more likely, as he seems, from the workmanship of his watches, to have been a contemporary of Tompion, the famous London horologist of the reign of Charles II. In the front of the house, upon the third storey, there is still to be seen the remains of a curious piece of mechanism ; namely, a g-ilt ball representing the moon, M hich was made to i-evolve by means of a clock.* [' HE THAT THOLES OVERCOMES.'] Pursuing our way down the steep and devious street, we pass an antique wooden-faced house, bearing the odd name of the Muhoijany Land, and just before turning the second corner, pause before a stone one of equally antiquated structure,t having a wooden-screened outer stair. Over the door at the head of this stair is a legend in very old lettering — certainly not later than 1530 — and hardly to be deciphered. With difficulty we make it out to be, HE YT THOLIS 0VBRCVMMI8. * This house was demolished in 1835, to make way for a passage towardi OcorRc IV. "6 HridKC. t Taken down in 18."}!'. THK WEST now. 49 He that tholes (that is, bears) overcomes ; equivalent to w li;it \'ii'g'il says — ' Quicfiuul erit, sujx^randa omnis fortuna ferendo est.' ^Ve may safelj' speculate on this inscription being- antece- dent in date to the Reformation, as after that period merely moi-al apotheg-ms were held in little regard, and none but biblical inscriptions were actually put upon the fronts of houses. Ort the other side of the street is a small shop (marked No. 09), now occupied by a dealer in small miscellaneous wares,* and which was, a hundred years ago, open for a nearly similar kind of business, under the charge of a Mrs Jeffrey. When, on the night of the 7th September 1736, the rioters hurried their victim Porteous down the "West Bow, with the design of executing him in the Grassmarket, they called at this shop to provide themselves with a rope. The woman asked if it was to hang Porteous, and when they answered in the affirmative, she told them they were welcome to all she had of that article. They coolly took off what they required, and laid a guinea on the counter as payment ; ostentatious to mark that they ' did all in honour.' [provost Stewart's house — Donaldsons the booksellers.] The upper floors of the house which looks down into tlip Grassmarket formed the mansion of Mr Archibald Stewart, Lord Provost of Edinburtrh in 1745. This is an abode of singular structure and arrangements, having its principal access by a close out of another street, and only a postern one into the Bow, and being full of curious little wain- scoted rooms, concealed closets, and secret stairs. In one apartment there is a cabinet, or what appears a cabinet, about three feet high : this, when cross-examined, turns out to be the mask of a trap-stair. Onh' a smuggler, one would think, or a gentleman conducting treasonable nego- tiations, could have bethought him of building such a house. A\'hether Pi'ovost Stewart, who was a thorough Jacobite, was the designer of these contrivances, I cannot tell; but fire- * Demolished in 1833. Vni. VI. D 50 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. side g'ossip used to have a strange story as to his putting his trap-stair to use on one important occasion. It was said that, during the occupation of Edinburgh by the High- land army in '45, his lordship was honoured one evening with a secret visit from the Prince and some of his prin- cipal officers. The situation was critical, for close by was the line between the Highland guards and the beleaguered environs of the castle. Intelligence of the Prince's move- ments being obtained by the governor of the fortress, a party was sent to seize him in the provost's house. They made their approach by the usual access from the Castle Hill Street ; but an alarm preceded them, and before they obtained admission, the provost's visitors had vanished through the mysterious cabinet, and made their exit by the back-door. What real foundation there may have been for this somewhat wild-looking story, I do not pretend to say. The house was at a subsequent time the residence of Alexander Donaldson the bookseller, whose practice of reprinting modern English books in Edinburgh, and his consequent litigation with the London booksellers, attracted much attention sixty years since. Printing and publish- ing were in a low state in Edinburgh before the time of Donaldson. In the frank language of Hugo Arnot — ' The printing of newspapers, and of school-books, of the fanatick eifusions of Presbyterian clergymen, and the law papers of the Court of Session, joined to the patent Bible printing, gave a scanty employment to four printing-offices.' About the middle of the century, the English law of copyright not extending to Scotland, some of the booksellers began to reprint the productions of the English authors of the day ; for example, the Rambler was regularly reproduced in this manner in Edinburgh, with no change but the addition of English translations of the Latin mottoes, which were sup- plied by Mr James Elphinstone. From this and minor causes, it came to pass that, in 1779, there were twenty-seven printing-offices in Edinburgh. The most active man in this trade was Alexander Donaldson, who likewise reprinted in Edinburgh, and sold in London, English books of which the author's fourteen years' coj)y right had expired, and which were then only protected b}' a usage of the London trade, rendering it dislionourable as between man and man, TIIK WEST DOW. ol among; themselves, to reprint a book vvliich had hitheito been the assigned property of one of their number. Dis- regarding' the rule of his fraternity, Donaldson set up a shop in the Strand for the sale of his cheap Edinburgh editions of the books of expired copyright. They met an immense sale, and proved of obvious service to the public, especially to those of limited means ; though, as Johnson remarked, this made Donaldson ' no better than Robin Hood, who robbed the rich in order to g'ive to the pour." In reality, the London booksellers had no right beyond one of class sentiment, and this was fully found when they wrestled with Mr Donaldson at law. Waiving all question on this point, Donaldson may be considered as a sort of morning star of that reformation which has resulted in the universal cheapening of literar}' publications. INIajor Top- ham, in 1775, speaks of a complete set of the English classics which he was bringing out, ' in a very handsome binding,' at the rate of one-and-sixpence a volume ! [Donaldson, in 1763, started a twice-a-week newspaper under the name of the ' Edinburgh Advertiser,' which was for a long course of years the prominent journal on the Conservative side, and eminently lucrative, chiefly through its multitude of advertisements. All his speculations being of a prosperous nature, he acquired considerable wealth, wjiich he left to his son, the late j\Ir James Donaldson, by whom the newspaper was conducted for many years. James added largely to his wealth by successful speculations in the funds, where he held so large a sum, that the rise of a j)er cent, made him a thousand pounds richer than he had been the day before. Prompted by the example of Heriot and Watson, and partly, perhaps, by that modification of egotism which makes us love to be kept in the remeni- l)rance of future generations, James Donaldson, at his death in 1830, devoted the mass of his fortune — about £-240,00O — for the foundation of a hospital for the maintenance and education of poor children of both sexes ; and a struc- ture for the purpose was erected, on a magnilicent plan furnished by Mr Playfair, at an expense, it is said, of about £120,000. The old house in the West Bow — which was posses-sed by both of these remarkable men in succession, and the scene of their entertainments to the literary men of the la.-.t 52 TRADITIONS OF EDINBUKGH. no-e with some of whom Alexander Donaldson lived on terms of intimacy — stood unoccupied for several years before 1824, when it was burnt down. New buildings now occupj' its site.] [templars' lands.] We have now arrived at the lioiv-foot, about which there is nothing" remarkable to be told, except that here, and along' one side of the Grassmarket, are several houses marked by a cross on some conspicuous part — either an actual iron cross, or one represented in sculpture. This seems a strange circumstance in a country where it was even held doubtful, twenty years ago, whether one could be placed as an orna- ment on the top of a church tower. The explanation is, that these houses were built upon lands originally the pro- perty of the Knig'hts Templars, and the cross has ever since been kept up upon them, not from any veneration for that ancient society, neither upon any kind of religious ground ; the sole object has been to fix in remembrance certain legal titles and privileges which have been transmitted into secular hands from that source, and which are to this day productive of solid benefits. A hundred years ago, the houses thus marked were held as part of the barony of Drem in Haddingtonshire, the baron of which used to hold courts in them occasionally ; and here were harboured many persons not free of the city corporations, to the great an- noyance of the adherents of local monopoly. At length, the abolition of heritable jurisdictions in 1747 extinguished this little barony, but not certain other legal rights con- nected with the Templar Lands, which, however, it might be more troublesome to explain than advantageous to know. [tiik gallows stone.] In a central situation at the west end of the Grassmarket, there remained till very lately a massive block of sandstone, having a quadrangular hole in the middle, being the stone which served as a socket for the gallows, when this was the common place of execution. Instead of the stone, there is now only a St Andrew's cross, indicated by an arrange- ment of the paving stones. This became the regular scene of executions after the THE WEST BOW. 515 Restoration, and ?o continued till tlie year 1784. Hence arises the sense of the Duke of Kothes's remark, when a Covenantincr prisoner proved obdurate^ — ' Then e'en let him g'lorify God in the Grassmarket ! ' — the deaths of that class of victims being- always sig-nalised by psalm-sing-ing- on the scaffold. Most of the hundred persons who suffered for that cause in Edinburgh during the reig-ns of Charles II. and James II. breathed their last pious aspirations at this spot ; but several of the most notable, includino' the Mar- quis and Earl of Arg-yle, were executed at the Cross. As a matter of course, this was the scene of the Porteous riot in 1736, and of the subsequent murder of Porteous by the mob. The rioters, wishing- to despatch him as near to the place of his alleged crime as possible, selected for the purpose a dj'er's pole which stood on the south side of the street, exactly opposite to the gallows stone. Some of the Edinburgh executioners have been so far notable men as to be the subject of traditionary fame. In the reign of Charles II., Alexander Cockburn, the hang-man of Edinburgh, and who must have officiated at the exits of many of the ' martyrs' in the Grassmarket, was found guilty of the murder of a blueg-own, or privileg-ed begg-ar, and accordino'ly suilered that fate which he had so often meted out to other men. One Mackenzie, the hang-man of Stir- ling, whom Cockburn had traduced and endeavoured to thrust out of office, was the triumphant executioner of the sentence. Another Edinburgh hangman of this period was a reduced gentleman, the last of a respectable famih^ who had pos- sessed an estate in the neighbourhood of Melrose. He had been a profligate in early life, squandered the whole of his patrimony, and at length, for the sake of subsistence, was compelled to accept this wretched office, which in those days must have been unusually obnoxious to popular odium, on account of the frequent executions of innocent and reli- gious men. Notwithstanding his extreme degradation, this unhappy reprobate could not altogether forget his ori- ginal station, and his former tastes and habits. He would occasionally resume the garb of a gentleman, and mingle in the parties of citizens who played at golf in the evenings on Bruntstield Links. Being at length recognised, he was I'hased from the ground with shouts of execration and 54 TRADITIONS OF EDINLTJRGH. loathing-, wliicli affected hira so much, that he retired to the solitude of the King's Park, and was next day found dead at the bottom of a precipice, over which he was sup- posed to have thrown himself in despair. This rock was afterwards called the Hangman's Craig. In the year 1700, when the Scottish people were in a state of great excitement, on account of the interference of the English government against their expedition to Darien, some persons were apprehended for a riot in the city of Edinburgh, and sentenced to be whipped and put upon the pillory. As these persons had acted under the influence of the general feeling, they excited the sympathy of the people in an extraordinary degree, and even the hangman was found to have scruples about the propriety of punishing them. Upon the pillory they were presented with flowers and wine ; and when arrayed for flagellation, the execu- tioner made a mere mockery of his duty, never once per- mitting his whip to touch their backs. The magistrates were very indignant at the conduct of their servant, and sentenced him to be scourged in his turn. However, when the Haddington executioner was brought to officiate upon his metropolitan brother, he was so much frightened by the threatening- aspect of the mob, that he thought it prudent to make his escape through a neighbouring alley. The laugh was thus turned against the magistrates, who, it was said, would require to get a third executioner to punish the Haddington man. They prudently dropped the whole matter. At a somewhat later period, the Edinburgh official was a man named John Dalgleish. He it was who acted at the execution of Wilson the smuggler, in 1736, and who is alluded to so frequently in the tale of the Heart of Mid- Lothian. Dalgleish, I have heard, was esteemed, before his taking up this office, as a person in creditable circum- stances. Pie is memorable for one pithy saying. Some one asking him how he contrived, in whipping a criminal, to adjust the weight of his ai'm, on which, it is obvious, much must depend, ' Oh,' said he, * I lay on the lash ac- cording to my conscience.' Either Jock, or some later official, was remarked to be a regular hearer at the Tol- booth Church. As no other person would sit in the same seat, he always had a pew to himself. He regularly com- TUB WEST BOW. 55 municated ; but here the exclusiveness of his fellow-crea- tures also marked itself, and the clerg'j'^man was oblig-ed to serve a separate table for the hang-man, after the rest of the congregation had retired from the church. The last Edinburgh executioner of whom any particular notice has been taken by the public was John High, com- monly called Jock Heich, who acceded to the office in the year 1784, and died so lately as 1817. High had been originally induced to undertake this degrading- duty, in order to escape the punishment due to a petty offence — that of stealing- poultry. I remember him living- in his official mansion in a lane adjoining- to the Cowgate — a small wretched-looking- house, assigned by the mag-istrates for the residence of this race of officers, and which has only been removed within the last few years, to make way for the extension of the buildings of the Parliament Square. He had then a second wife, whom he used to beat unmer- cifully. Since Jock's days, no executioner has been so conspicuous as to be known by name. The fame of the occupation seems somehow to have departed. I have now finished my account of the West Bow ; a most antiquated place, yet not without its virtues even as to matters of the present day. Humble as the street appears, many of its shopkeepers and other inhabitants are of a vei-y respectable character. Bankruptcies are said to be very rare in the Bow. Most of the traders are of old standing-, and well to do in the world; few but what are the pro- prietors of their own shops and dwelling-s, which, in such a community, indicates something- like wealth. The smarter and more dashing- men of Princes Street and the Bridg-es may smile at their homely externals, and darksome little places of business, or may not even pay them the compli- ment of thinking- of them at all ; yet, while they boast not of their * warerooms,' or their troops of 'young- men,' or their plate-glass windows, they at least feel no appre- hension from the approach of rent-daj^, and rarely expe- rience tremulations on the subject of bills. Perhaps, if strict investigation were made, the 'bodies' of the Bow could show more comfortable balances at the New Year, than at least a half of the sublime men who pay an income bv wav of rental in Georg-e Street. Not one of them but is 56 TRACITIONS OF EDINBURGH. respectfully known by a good sum on the Creditor side at Sir William Forbes's ; not one but can stand at his shop- door, with his hands in his pockets, and his hat on, not unwilling, it may be, to receive custom, yet not liable to be greatly distressed if the customer go by. Such, perhaps, were shopkeepers in the golden age ! JAMES'S COURT. David Hume — James Boswell — Lord Fountainhall. James's Court, a well-known pile of building of great altitude at the head of the Earthen Mound, was erected about 1725-7 by James Brownhill, a joiner, as a specula- tion, and was for some years regarded as the quartier of greatest dignity and importance in Edinburgh. The in- habitants, who were all persons of consequence in society, although each had but a single Hoor of four or five rooms and a kitchen, kept a clerk to record their names and pro- ceedings, had a scavenger of their own, clubbed in many public measures, and had balls and parties among them- selves exclusively. In those days it must have been quite a step in life when a man was able to fix his family in one of the^a^s of James's Court. Amongst the many notables who have harboured here, only two or three can be said to have preserved their nota- bility till our day, the chief being David Hume and James Boswell. [dAVID HUME.] The first fixed residence of David Hume in Edinburgh appears to have been in Riddel'' s Land, Lawnmarket, near the head of the West Bow. He commenced housekeeping there in 1751, when, according* to his own account, he ' re- moved from the country to the town, the true scene for a man of letters.' Tt was while in Riddel's Land that he pub- lished his Political Discourses, and obtained the situation of libi'arian to the Faculty of Advocates. In this place also he commenced the writing of his History of England. He dates from Riddel's Land in January 1753, but in June we find him removed to JacKs Land, a somewhat airier JAMKS'S COURT. f)? Situation in the Canongate, where he remained for nine years. Excepting- only the small portion composed in the Lawnmarket mansion, the whole of the Plistory of England was written in Jack's Land ; a fact which will probably raise some interest respecting that locality. It is, in rea- lity, a plain middle-aged fabric, of no particular appearance, and without a single circumstance of a curious nature con- nected with it, besides the somewhat odd one, that the con- tinuator of the History, Smollett, lived, some time after, in his sister's house precisely opposite. Hume removed at Whitsunday 1762 to a house which he purchased in James's Court — the eastern portion of the third floor in the west stair (counting from the level of the court). This was such a step as a man would take in those days as a consequence of improvement in his cir- cumstances. The philosopher had lived in James's Court but a short time, when he was taken to France as secre- tary to the embassy. In his absence, which lasted seve- ral years, his house was occupied by Dr Blair, who here had a son of the Duke of Northumberland as a pupil. It is interesting to find Hume, some time after, writing to his friend Dr Ferguson from the midst of the gaieties of Paris — ' I am sensible that 1 am misplaced, and I wish twice or thrice a day for my easy chair and my retreat in Jameses Courts Then he adds a beautiful sentiment — ' Never think, dear Ferguson, that as long as you are master of your own lireside and your own time, you can be unhappy, or that any other circumstance can add to your enjoj'ment.'* In one of his letters to Blair, he speaks minutely of his house : — ' Never put a fire in tlie south room with the red paper. It was so warm of itself, that all last winter, which was a very severe one, I lay with a single blanket ; and frequently, upon coming in at midnight starving with cold, have sat down and read fur an hour, as if I had had a stove in the room.' From 1703 till 1766 he lived in high diplomatic situations at Paris ; and think- ing to settle there for life, for the sake of the agreeable society, gave orders to sell his house in Edinburgh. He informs us, in a letter to the Countess de BoutHers [GcJieral Corrcqwndencc, 4to, 1820, p. 231], that he was prevented * Burton's Life of Hume, ii. 173. 59 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. by a singular accident from carrying his intention into effect. After writing a letter to Edinburgh for the pur- pose of disposing of his house, and leaving it with his Parisian landlord, he set out to pass his Christmas with the Countess de Boufflers at L'Isle Adam ; but being di-iveu back by a snow-storm, which blocked up the roads, he found on his return that the letter had not been sent to the post-house. More deliberate thoughts then determined hira to keep up his Edinburgh mansion, thinking that, if anj affairs should call him to his native country, ' it would be very inconvenient not to have a house to retire to.' On his return, therefore, in 1766, he re-entered into possession of his ^/lat in James's Court, but was soon again called from it, by an invitation from Mr Conway to be an under- secretary of state. At length, in 1769, he returned perma- nently to his native city, in possession of what he thought opulence — a thousand a-year. We find him immediately writing from his retreat in James's Court to his friend Adam Smith, then commencing his great work on the Wealth of Nations in the quiet of his mother's house at Kirkaldy — ' I am glad to have come within sight of you, and to have a view of Kirkaldy from my windows ; but I wish also to be within speaking terms of you,' &c. To another person he writes — ' I live still, and must for a twelvemonth, in my old house in James's Court, which is very cheerful, and even elegant, but too small to display my great talent for cookery, the science to which I intend to addict the remaining years of my life ! ' Hume now built a superior house for himself in the New Town, which was then little beyond its commencement, selecting a site adjoining to St Andrew Square. The superintendence of this work was an amusement to him. A story is related in more than one way regarding the manner in which a denomination was conferred upon the street in which this house is situated. Perhaps, if it be premised that a corresponding street at the other angle of St Andrew Square is called St Andrew Street — a natural enough circumstance with reference to the square, whose title was determined on in the plan — it will appear likely that the choosing of ' St David Street ' for that in which Hume's house stood, was not originally designed as a jest at his expense, though a second thought, and the whim of hia James's court. 59 fiiends, mig'lit quickly give it that application. The story, as told by Mr Burton, is as follows : — ' When the house was built and inhabited by Hume, but while yet the street of which it was the commencement had no name, a witty young' lady, daughter of Baron Ord, chalked on the wall the words, St David Street. The allusion was very ob- vious. Hume's " lass," judging that it was not meant in honour or reverence, ran into the house much excited, to tell her master how he was made game of. " Never mind, lassie," he said, " many a better man has been made a saint of before." ' That Hume was a native of Edinburgh, is well known. One could wish to know the spot of his birth ; but it is not now perhaps possible to ascertain it. The nearest approach made to the fact is from intelligence conveyed by a me- morandum in his father's handwriting among the family papers, where he speaks of ' my son David, born in the TroH Church parish ' — a district comprehending the square clump of town between the High Street and Cowgate, east of the site of the church itself, Gray's Close excepted. One of Hume's most intimate friends amongst the other sex was Mrs Cockburn, author of one of the beautiful songs called ' The Flowers of the Forest.' While he was in France in 1764, she writes to him from Baird's Close, Castle Hill— ' The cloven foot for which thou art worshipped I despise ; yet I remember thee with affection. I remember that, in spite of vain philosophy, of dark doubts, of toilsome learn- ing, God has stamped his image of benignity so strong upon thy heart, that not all the labours of thy head could efface it.' After Hume's return to Edinburgh, he kept up his acquaintance with this spirited and amiable woman. The late Mr Alexander Young, W.S., had some reminiscences of parties which he attended when a boy at her house, and at which the philosopher was present. Hume came in one evening behind time for her petit souper, when, seeing her bustling to get something for him to eat, he called out, ' Now, no trouble, if you please, about quality; for you know I'm only a glutton, not an epicure.' Mr Young attended at a dinner where, besides Hume, there were pre- sent Lord Monboddo and some other learned personages. Mrs Cockburn was then living in the neat first floor of a liouse at the end of Crighton Street, with windows looking 60 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. along the Potterrow. She had a son of eccentric habits, in middle life, or rather elderly, who came in during: the dinner tipsy, and g'oing' into a bedroom, locked himself in, went to bed, and fell asleep. The company in time made a move for departure, when it was discovered that their hats, cloaks, and greatcoats were all locked up in Mr Cockburn's room. The door was knocked at and shaken, but no answer. What was to be done ? At length, Mrs Cockburn had no alternative from sending out to her neighbours to borrow a supply of similar integuments, which was soon procured. There was then such fun in fitting the various savans with suitable substitutes for their own proper gear! Hume, for instance, with a dreadnoug'ht riding-coat, IMonboddo with a shabby old hat, as unlike his own neat chapeau as possible ! In the highest exaltation of spirits did these two men of genius at length proceed homeward along the Pot- terrow, Horse Wynd, Assembly Close, &c. making the old echoes merry with their peals of laughter at the strange appearance which they respectively made. I lately inspected Hume's cheerful and elegant mansion in James's Court, and found it divided amongst three or four tenants in humble life, each possessing little more than a single room. It was amusing to observe that what had been the dining-room and drawing-room towards the north, were each provided with one of those little side oratories which have been described elsewhere as peculiar to a period in Edinburgh house-building, being designed for private de- votion. Hume living in a house with two private chapels! [jAMES BOSWELL.] It appears that one of the immediately succeeding lease- holders of Hume's house in James's Court was James Boswell. Mr Burton has made this tolerably clear [Life of Hume, ii. 137], and he proceeds to speculate on the fact of Boswell having there entertained his friend Johnson. ' Would Bos- well communicate the fact, or tell what manner of man was the landlord of the habitation into which he had, under the guise of hospitality, entrapped the arch-intolerant? Who .'^hall appreciate the mental conflict which Boswell may have experienced on this occasion?' It appears, however, tliat by the time when Johnson visited Boswell in James's Court, the latter had removed into a better and larger man- James's court. 61 sion rig-ht below, and on the level of the court ; namely, that now (1846) occupied by Messrs Pillans as a printing- office. This was an extraordinary house in its day ; for it consisted of two floors connected by an internal stair. Here it was that the Ursa Major of literature stayed for a few days, in August 1773, while preparing: to set out to the Hebrides, and also for some time after his return. Here did he receive the homage of the trembling- literati of Edin- burgh ; here, after handling' them in his rough manner, did he relax in play with little IMiss Veronica, whom Bos- well promised to consider peculiar]}' in his will, for showing a liking- to so estimable a man. What makes all this evident, is a passage in a letter of Samuel himself to Mrs Thrale (Edinburgh, August 17), where he says, ' Boswell has verj' handsome and spacious rooms, level with the g-round on one side of the house, and on the other four storeys high.' Boswell was only tenant of the mansion. It affords a curious idea of the importance which formerly attached to some of these Old Town residences, when we learn that this was part of the entailed estate of the Mac- dowalls of Logan, one of whom sold it by permission of an Act of Parliament, to redeem the land-tax upon his country property. Boswell ceased to be a citizen of Edinburgh in 1785, when he was pleased to venture before the English bar. He is little remembered amongst the elder inhabitants of our city; but the late Mr William Macfarlane, the well-known small- debt judge, told me that there was this peculiarity about liira — it was impossible to look in his face without being- moved by the comicality which always reigned upon it. He was one of those men whose very look is provocative of mirth. Mr Robert Sym, W.S., vvho died in 1844, at an advanced age, remembered being at parties in this house in Boswell's time. [lord fountainhali,.] Before James's Court was built, its site was occupied by certain closes, in one of which dwelt Lord Fountainhall, so distinguished as an able, liberal, and upright judge, and still more so by his industrious habits as a collector of historical memorabilia, and of the decisions of the Court of Session. Though it is considerably upwards of a centui-y since Lord 62 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Fountainhall died,* a traditionary anecdote of his residence in this place has been handed down till the present time by a surprising'ly small number of persons. The mother of the late Mr Gilbert Innes of Stow was a daughter of his lordship's son, Sir Andrew Lauder, and she used to describe to her children the visits she used to pay to her venerable grandfather's house, situated, as she said, where James's Court now stands. She and her sister, a little girl like herself, always went with their maid on the Saturday after- noons, and were shown into the room where the aged judge was sitting — a room covered with gilt leather,t and con- taining many huge presses and cabinets, one of which was ornamented with a death's head at the top. After amusing themselves for an hour or two with his lordship, they used to get each a shilling from him, and retire to the anteroom, where, as Mrs Innes well recollected, the waiting-maid in- variably pounced upon their money, and appropriated it to her own use. It is curious to think that the mother of a gentlewoman living in 1839 (for only then did Miss Innes of Stow leave this earthly scene) should have been familiar with a lawyer who entered at the bar soon after the Restoration (1608), and acted as counsel for the unfortunate Earl of Argyle in 1681 ; a being of an age as diiferent in every respect from the present, as the wilds of North America are different from the long-practised lands of Lothian or Devon- shire. The judicial designation of Lord Fountainhall was adopted from a place belonging to him in East Lothian, now the property of his representative, Sir Thomas Dick Lauder. The original name of the place was Woodhead. AVhen the able lawyer came to the bench, and, as usual, thought of a new appellative of a territorial kind — 'Woodhead — Lord Woodhead,' thought he; 'that will never do for a judge!' So the name of the place was changed to Fountainhall, and he became Lord Fountainhall accoi'dingly. * His Lordship died September 20, 1722.— Bn<»ton and Haip's Hittoriral Acoyunt of the Senators of the College of Justice. t A stuff brought, I believe, from Spain, and wliicli was at one time muirh in fashion in Scotland. STORY OF THE COUNTESS OF STAIR. In a short allej^ leading between the Lawnmarket and tlie Earthen INIound, and called Lady Stair's Close, there is a substantial old mansion, presenting-, in a sculptured stone over the doorway, a small coat-armorial, with the initials W. G, and G. S., the date 1622, and the leg-end, KKAR THE LORD, AXD DEPART FROM EVILL. The letters refer to Sir William Gray of Pittendrum, the orig-inal proprietor of the house, and his wife. Within, there are marks of g-ood style, particularly in the lofty ceiling-, and an inner stair apart from the common one ; but all has long been turned to common purposes; while it must be left to the imagination to realise the terraced garden which formerly descended towards the North Loch. This was the last residence of a lady conspicuous in Scot- tish society in the early part of the last century — the widow of the celebrated commander and diplomatist, John, Earl of Stair. Lady Eleanor Campbell was, by paternal descent, nearly related to one of the greatest historical ligures of the preceding century, being the granddaughter of the Chancellor Earl of Loudon, whose talents and influence on the Covenanting side were at one time believed to have nearly procured him the honour of a .secret death, at the command of Charles L Her ladyship's first adventure in matrimony led to a series of circumstances of a mar- vellous nature, which I shall set down exactly as they used to be related by friends of the lady lifty or sixty years ago. It was her lot, at an early age, to be united tn James, Viscount Primrose, a man of the worst temper and most dissolute manners. Her ladyship, who had no small share of the old chancellor in her constitution, could have managed most men with ease, by dint of superior intellect and force of character ; but the cruelty of Lord Primrose was too much for her. He treated her so barbarously, that she had even reason to fear that he would some day put an end to her life. One morning, she was dressing herself in her chamber, near an open window, when his lordship entered the room behind her with a drawn sword in his 6i" TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. hand. He had opened the doov softly, and although his face indicated a resolution of the most horrible nature, he still had the presence of mind to approach her with cau- tion. Had she not caught a glimpse of his face and figure in the glass, he would in all probability have come near enough to execute his bloody purpose before she was aware, or could have taken any measures to save herself. Fortu- nately, she perceived him in time to leap out of the open window into the street. Half-dressed as she was, she im- mediately, by a very laudable exertion of her natural good sense, went to the house of Lord Primrose's mother, where she told her story, and demanded protection. That pro- tection was at once extended ; and it being now thought vain to attempt a reconciliation, they never afterwards lived together. Lord Primrose soon afterwards went abroad. During his absence, a foreign conjuror, or fortune-teller, came to Edinburgh, professing, among many other wonderful ac- complishments, to be able to inform any person of the present condition or situation of any other person, at what- ever distance, in whom the applicant might be interested. Lady Primrose was incited by curiosity to go with a female friend to the lodgings of the wise man in the Canongate, for the purpose of inquiring regarding the motions of her husband, of whom she had not heard for a considerable time. It was at nig'ht ; and the two ladies went, with the tartan screens or plaids of their servants drawn over their faces by way of disguise. Lady Primrose having described the individual in whose fate she was interested, and having expressed a desire to know what he was at present doing, the conjuror led her to a large mirror, in which she dis- tinctly perceived the appearance of the inside of a church, with a marriage-part}' arranged near the altar. To her astonishment, she recognised in the shadowy bridegroom no other than her husband. The magical scene was not exactly like a picture ; or if so, it was rather like the live }»ictures of the stage, than the dead and immovable delinea- tions of the pencil. It admitted of additions to the persons represented, and of a progress of action. As the lady g-azed on it, the ceremonial of the marriage seemed to proceed. Tlie necessary arrangements had at last been made, the priest seemed to have pronouviced the preliminarj' service, STORY OF THE COUNTESS OF STAIR. 05 he was just on the point of bidding- the bride and bride- groom join hands, when suddenly a g-entleman, for whom the rest seemed to have waited a considerable time, and in whom Lady Primrose thought she recog-nised a brother of her own, then abroad, entered the church, and advanced hurriedly towards the party. The aspect of this person was at first only that of a friend, who had been invited to attend the ceremony, and who had come too late ; but as he advanced, the expression of his countenance and fio-m-e was altered. He stopped short ; his face assumed a wrath- ful expression ; he drew his sword, and rushed up to the bridegroom, who prepared to defend himself. The whole scene then became tumultuous and indistinct, and soon after vanished entirely away.* When Lady Primrose reached home, she wrote a minute narrative of the whole transaction, to which she appended the day of the month on which she had seen the mysterious vision. This narrative she sealed up in the presence of a witness, and then deposited it in one of her drawers. Soon afterwards, her brother returned from his travels, and came to visit her. She asked if, in the course of his wanderings, he had happened to see or hear anything of Lord Primrose. The young man onlj'' answered by saj'ing that he wished he might never again hear the name of that detested personage mentioned. Lady Primrose, however, questioned him so closely, that he at last confessed having met his lordship, and that under very strange circumstances. Having spent some time at one of the Dutch cities — it was either Amsterdam or Rotterdam — he had become acquainted with a rich merchant, who had a very beautiful daughter, his only child, and the heiress of his large fortune. One day his friend the merchant informed him that his daughter was ♦ 'Grace, Countess of Aboj-ne and Moray, in her early youth, liad tlic weakness to consult a celebrated fortune-teller, inhabiting an obscure close in Edinburgh. The sybil predicted that she would become the wife of two earls, and how many children she was to bear; but withal assured her, that if she should see a new coach of a certain colour driven up to her door as be- longing to herself, her hearse must speedily follow. Many years afterwards, Lord Moray, who was not aware of this prediction, resolved to surprise his wife with the present of a new equipage ; but when Lady Moray beheld from a window a carriage of the ominous colour arrive at the door of Tarnaway, and heard that it was to be her own property, she sank down, exclaiming that she was a dead woman, and actually expired in a short time after : No- vember 17, 173!t.' — Auks tu Uuc's Memorials, p. xcii. VOL. VI. K 60 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. about to be married to a Scottish gentleman, who had lately come to reside there. The nuptials were to take place in the course of a few days ; and as he was a country- man of the bridegroom, he was invited to the wedding. He went accordingly, was a little too late for the com- mencement of the ceremony, but fortunately came in time to prevent the sacrifice of an amiable young lady to the greatest monster alive in human shape — his own brother- in-law. Lord Primrose ! The story proceeds to say that, although Lady Primrose had proved her willingness to believe in the magical deli- neations of the mirror, by writing down an account of them, yet she was so much surprised by discovering them to be the representation of actual fact, that she almost fainted. Something, however, yet remained to be ascertained. Did Lord Primrose's attempted marriage take place exactly at the same time with her visit to the conjuror? She asked her brother on what day the circumstance which he related took place. Having been informed, she took out her key, and requested him to go to her chamber, to open a drawer which she described, and to bring her a sealed packet which he would find in that drawer. On the packet being opened, it was discovered that Lady Primrose had seen the shadowy representation of her husband's abortive nup- tials on the very evening when they were transacted in reality. Lord Primrose died in 1706, leaving a widow who could scarcely be expected to mourn for him. She was still a young and beautiful woman, and might have procured her choice among* twenty better matches. Such, however, was the idea she had formed of the marriage state from her first husband, that she made a resolution never again to become a wife. She kept her resolution for many j^ears, and pro- bably would have done so till the last, but for a singular circumstance. The celebrated Earl of Stair, who resided in Edinburgh during the greater part of twenty years, which he spent in retirement from all official employments, be- came deeply smitten with her ladyship, and earnestly sued for her hand. If she could have relented in favour of any man, it would have been for one who had acquired so much public honour, and whose pi'ivate character was also, in general respects, so estimable. But to him also she STORY OF THE COUNTESS OF STAIR. 67 declared her resolution of remaining' unmarried. In his desperation, he resolved upon an expedient which strongly marks the character of the age in respect of delicacy. By dint of bribes to her domestics, he got himself insinuated over night into a small room in her ladyship's house, where she used to say her prayers every morning, and the window of which looked out upon the principal street of the city. At this window, when the mornmg was a little advanced, he showed himself, en deshabille, to the people passing along the street ; an exhibition which threatened to have such an effect upon her ladyship's reputation, that she saw tit to accept of him for a husband. She was more happy as Countess of Stair than she had been as Lady Primrose. Yet her new husband had one failing, which occasioned her no small uneasiness. Like most other gentlemen at that period, he sometimes in- dulged too much in the bottle. When elevated with liquor, his temper, contrary to the general case, was by no means improved. Thus, on reaching home after a debauch, he generally had a quarrel with his wife, and sometimes even treated her Avith violence. On one occasion, when quite transported beyond the bounds of reason, he gave her so severe a blow upon the upper part of the face, as to occasion the eifusion of blood. He immediately after fell asleep, un- conscious of what he had done. Lady Stair was so over- whelmed by a tumult of bitter and poignant feeling, that she made no attempt to bind up her wound. She sat down on a sofa near her torpid husband, and wept and bled till morn- ing. When his lordship awoke, and perceived her dis- hevelled and bloody tigure, he was surprised to the last de- gree, and eagerly inquired how she came to be in such an unusual condition ? She answered by detailing to him the whole history of his conduct on the preceding evening ; which stung him so deeply with reg-ret — for he natu- rally possessed the most generous feelings — that he in- stantly vowed to his wife never afterwards to take any species of drink, except what was first passed through her hands. This vow he kept most scrupulously till the day of his death. He never afterwards sat in any con- vivial company where his lady could not attend to sanction his potations. Whenever he gave any entertainment, she always sat next him and filled his wine, till it was neces- 68 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. sary for her to retire ; after which, he drank only fi-om a certain quantity which she had first laid aside. With much that was respectable in her character, we must not be too much surprised that Lady Stair was capable of using terms of speech which a subsequent age has learned to look on as objectionable, even in the humblest class of society. The Earl of Dundonald, it appears, had stated to the Duke of Douglas that Lady Stair had expressed in- credulity regarding the genuineness of the birth of his nephews, the children of Lady Jane Douglas, and did not consider Lady Jane as entitled to any allowance from the duke on their account. In support of what he reported, Dundonald, in a letter to the Lord Justice Clerk, gave the world leave to think him ' a damned villain' if he did not speak the truth. This seems to have involved Lady Stair unpleasantly with her friends of the house of Douglas, and she lost little time in making her way to Holyroodhouse, where, before the duke and duchess and their attendants, she declared that she had lived to a good old age, and never till now had got entangled in any clatters — that is, scandal. The old dame then thrice stamped the floor with her staff, each time calling the Earl of Dundonald 'a damned villain;' after which she retired in great wrath. Perhaps this scene was characteristic, for we learn from letters of Lady M. W. Montague, that Lady Stair was subject to hysterical ailments, and would be screaming and fainting in one room, while her daughter, Miss Primrose, and Lady Mary, were dancing in another. This venerable lady, after being long at the head of society in Edinburgh, died in November 1759, having sur- vived her second husband twelve years. It was remembered of her that she had been the first person in Edinburgh, of her time, to keep a black domestic servant.* * Negroes in a Bervile capacity had been long before known in Scotland. Punliar has a droll poem on a female black, whom he calls ' My lady with the mucklo lips.' In Lady Marie Stuart's Ilousehold Book, referring to tlie early part of the seventeenth century, there is mention of ' ane inventorie of the gudes and geir whilk portcnit to Dame Lilias Ruthven, Lady Drum- mond," which includes as an item, ' the black boy and the papingoe [pea- cock] ;' in so humble an association was it then thought proper to place a human beinx who chanced to possess a dark skin. THE OLD BANK CLOSE. Tlie Repent Morton— The Old Bank— Sir Thomas Hope— Chiesly of Dairy —Rich Merchants of the Sixteenth Century— Sir William Dick. [old bank close.] Ajionost the buildings removed to make way for George IV.'s Bridge, were those of a short blind alley in the Lawn- market, called the Old Bank Close. Composed wholly of solid goodly structures, this close had an air of dignity that might have almost reconciled a modern gentleman to live in it. One of these, crossing and closing the bottom, had been the Bank of Scotland — the Aidd Bank, as it used to be half affectionately called in Edinburgh — previously to the erection of the present handsome edifice in Bank Street. From this establishment the close had taken its name ; but it had previously been called Hope's Close, from its being the residence of a son of the celebrated Sir Thomas Hope, King's Advocate in the reign of Charles I. The house of oldest date in the close was one on the west side, of substantial and even handsome appearance, long and lofty, and presenting some peculiarities of structure nearly unique in our citj'. There was first a door for the ground-floor, about which there was nothing remarkable. Then there was a door leading* by a stair to the Jirst Jloor, and bearing this legend and date upon the architrave — IN THE IS AL MY TRAIST : 15G9. Close beside this door was another, leading by a longer, but distinct, though adjacent stair, to the second floor, and pre- senting on the architrave the initials R. G. From this floor there was an internal stair contained in a projecting turret, which connected it with the higher floor. Thus, it will be observed, there were three houses in this building, each having a distinct access ; a nicety of arrangement which, together with the excellence of the masonry, was calculated to create a more respectful impression regarding the do- mestic ideas of our ancestors in Queen Mary's time than most persons are prepared for. Finally, in the triangular space surmounting an attic window were the initials of a married couple, D. G., M. S. rO TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Our surprise is naturally somewhat increased when we learn that the builder and first possessor of this house does not appear to have been a man of rank, or one likely to own unusual wealth. His name was Robert Gourlay, and his profession a humble one connected with the law ; namely, that of a messenger-at-arms. In the second book of Charters in the Canongate council-house, Adam Both- well, Bishop of Orkney, and commendator of Holyrood, srave the office of messenger or officer-at-arms to the Abbey to Robert Gourlay, messenger, ' our lovit familiar servitor,' with a salary of forty pounds, and other perqui- sites. This was the Robert Gourlay who built the noble tenement in the Old Bank Close ; and through his official functions it came into connection with an interesting his- torical event. In May 1581, when the ex-Regent Morton was brought to Edinburg'h to suffer death, he was — as we learn from the memoirs of Moyses, a contemporary — ' lodged in Robert Gourlay's house, and there keeped by the waged men.' Gourlay had been able to accommodate in his house those whom it was his professional duty to take in charge as prisoners. Here, then, must have taken place those remarkable conferences between Morton and certain clei'gymen, in which, with the prospect of death before him, he protested his innocence of Darnley's death, while con- fessing to a foreknowledge of it. Morton must have re- sided in the house from May 29, when he arrived in Edin- burgh, till June 2, when he fell uiider the stroke of the Maiden. In the ensuing- year, as we learn from the autho- rity just quoted, De La Motte, the French ambassador, was lodged in ' Gourlay's House.' David Gourlay — probably the individual whose initials ajipeared on the attic — described as son of John Gourlay, customer, and doubtless grandson of the first man Robert — disposed of the house in 1637 to Sir Thomas Hope of Craig- hall in life-rent, and to his second son. Sir Thomas Hope of Kerse. We may suppose * the Advocate' to have thus pro- vided a mansion for one of his children. A grandson in 1696 disposed of the upper floor to Hugh Blair, merchant in Edinburgh — the grandfather, I presume, of the celebrated Dr Hugh Blair. This portion of the house was occupied early in the last century by Lord Aberuchil, one of King William's judges, THE OLD BANK CLOSK. 71 remarkable for the large fortune he accumulated. Sixty years ag'o, his descendant, Sir James Campbell of Aberuchil, resided in it while educating his family. It was afterwards occupied by Robert Stewart, writer, extensively known in Perthshire by the name of Roh Uncle, on account of the immense number of his nephews and nieces, amongst thf former of whom was the late worthy General Stewart of Garth, author of the work on the Highland regiments. The building used by the bank was also a substantial one. Over the architrave was the legend — SPES ALTERA VIT.E — with a device emblematising the resurrection ; namely, a couple of cross bones with wheat stalks springing from them, and the date 1588. Latterly, it was occupied as the University Printing-OfBce, and when I visited it in 1824, it contained an old wooden press, which was believed to be the identical one which Prince Charles carried with him from Glasgow to Bannockburn to print his gazettes, but then used as a proof-press, like a good hunter reduced to the sand-cart. This house was removed in 1834, having been previously sold by the Commissioners of Improve- ments for £'150. The purchaser got a larger sum for a leaden roof unexpectedly found upon it. When the house was demolished, it was discovered that every window- shutter had a communication by wires with an intricate piece of machinery in the garret, designed to operate upon a bell hung at a corner on the outside, so that not a window could have been forced without giving an alarm. In the Cowgate, little more than fifty yards from the site of this building, there is a bulky old mansion, believed to have been the residence of the celebrated King's Advocate Hojip himself, the ancestor of all the considerable men of this name now in Scotland. One can easily see, amidst all the disgrace into which it has fallen, something remarkable in this house, with two entrances from the street, and two port-cochers leading to other accesses in the rear. Over one door is the legend — TECUM HABITA : 1C16 — over the other, a half-obliterated line, known to have been, AT HOSFES HUMO, 7-2 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the latter being- an anagram of the name of the iii'st pos- sessor, thus spelt — Thomas Houpe. It is impossible, with- out a passing- sensation of melancholy, to behold this house, and to think how truly the obscurity of its history, and the wretchedness into which it has fallen, realise the philosophy of the anagram. Verily, the great statesman who once lived here in dignity and the respect of men, was but as a stranger who tarried in the place for a night, and was gone. The Diary of Sir Thomas Hope, printed for the Banna- tyne Club (1843), is a curious record of the public duties of a great law officer in the age to which it refers, as well as of the mixture of worldly and spiritual things in which the venerable dignitary was engaged. He is indefatigable in his religious duties, and his endeavours to advance the in- terests of his family ; at the same time full of kindly feel- ing about his sons' wives and their little family matters, never failing, for one thing, to tell how much the midwife got for her attendance on these ladies. There are many pas- sages respecting his prayers, and the answers he obtained to them, especially during the agonies of the opening civil war. He prays, for instance, that the Lord would pity his people, and then hears the words, ' I will preserve and saiff my people ' — ' but quhither be me or some other, I dar not say.' On another occasion, at the time when the Covenant- ing army was mustering- for Dunse Law, to oppose King Charles, Sir Thomas tells that, praying, ' Lord, pitie thy jiure [i, Cy poor] kirk, for their is no help in man ! ' he heard a voice saying, ' I will pitie it ; ' ' for quhilk I blissit the Lord : ' immediately after which he goes on, ' Lent to John my long carahm of rowct wark all indentit,' &c. Much reminding us of — ' Now put your trust in God, my boys, And keep your powder dry.' The Countess of Mar, daughter of Esme, Duke of Lennox, died of a dcadh/ brash in Sir Thomas's house in the Cow- gate, May 11, 1044. It is worthy of notice, that the Hopes are one of several Scottish families, possessing high rank and great wealth, which trace their descent to merchants in Ediziburgh. 'The Hopes are of French extraction, from Picardy. It is said they were originally Houblon, and had their name from the plant [hop], and not from esperance [the virtue in the mind]. THE OLD BANK CLOSE. 73 The first that came ovei* was a domestic of Magdalene of France, queen of James V. ; and of him are descended all the eminent families of Hopes. This John Hope set up as a merchant of Edinburprh, and his son, by Bessie or Elizabeth Gumming, is marked as a member of our first Protestant General Assembly, anno 1560.'* [CHIESLY OF DALRy.] The head of the Old Bank Close was the scene of the assassination of President Lockhart by Chiesly of Dairy, March 1689. The murderer had no provocation besides a simple judicial act of the president, assigning an aliment or income of £93 out of his estate to his wife and children, from whom it may be presumed he had been separated. He evidently was a man abandoned to the most violent passions — perhaps not quite sane. In London, half a year before the deed, he told Mr Stuart, an advocate, that he was resolved to go to Scotland before Candlemas and kill the president ; when, on Stuart remarking that the very imagination of such a thing was a sin before God, he replied, * Let God and me alone ; we have many things to reckon betwixt us, and we will reckon this too.' The judge was informed of the menaces of Chiesly, but despised them. On a Sunday afternoon, the last day of March — the town being then under the excitement of the siege of the castle by the friends of the new government — Lockhart was walking home from church to his house in this alley, when Chiesly came behind, just as he entered the close, and shot him in the back with a pistol. A Dr Hay, coming to visit the president's lady, saw his lordship stagger and fall. The ball had gone through the body, and out at the right breast. He was taken into his house, laid down upon two chairs, and almost immediately was a dead man. Some gentlemen passing seized the murderer, who readily owned he had done the deed, which he said was ' to learn the president to do justice.' When immediately after informed that his victim had expired, he said ' he was not used to do things by halves.' He boasted of the deed, as if it had been some grand exploit. After torture had been inflicted, to discover if he had * See a >fenioir by Sir Archibald Steuart Denham, in the publications of the Maithiud Club. 74 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. any accomplices, the wretched man was tried by the mag-is- trates of Edinburg-h, and sentenced to be carried on a hurdle to the Cross, and there hang-ed, with the fatal pistol hung from his neck, after which his body was to be suspended in chains at the Gallow Lee, and his rig'ht hand affixed to the West Port. The body was stolen from the g-allows, as was supposed, by his friends, and it was never known what had become of it, till more than a century after, when, in removing the hearth-stone of a cottag-e in Dairy Park, near Edinburg'h, a human skeleton was found, with the remains of a pistol near the situation of the neck. No doubt was entertained that these were the remains of Chiesly, huddled into this place for concealment, probably in the course of the nig'ht in which they had been abstracted from the g'allows. [rich merchants of the sixteenth century — SIR WILLIAM DICK.] Several houses in the neighbourhood of the Old Bank Close served to give a respectful notion of the wealth and domestic state of certain merchants of an early age. Imme- diately to the westward, in Brodie's Close, was the mansion of William Little of Liberton, bearing date 1570. This was an eminent merchant, and the founder of a family now represented by Mr Little Gilmour of the Inch, in whose pos- session this mansion continued under entail till purchased and taken down by the Commissioners of Improvements in 1836. Sixty years ago, it had been the residence of the iiotorious Deacon Brodie, of whom something may be said elsewhere. In Shaw's Close, a little way westwards, is another goodly old building, forming a little court, and bearing the letters J. M. This belonged to Bailie John Macmoran, another opulent citizen of the time of James VI., but an unfortunate one ; for it so happened that, going to quell a riot in the High School, he was shot in the head by a pistol fired through the door, and immediately slain. Sir William Gray of Pittendrum, mentioned a few pages back as the original owner of tlie old house in Lady Stair's Close, was another affluent trafficker of that age. The grandest of all these old Edinburgh merchants was William Dick, ancestor of the Dicks baronets of Prestonfield. In his youth, and during the lifetime of his father, he liad been able to lend £6000 to King James, to defray the ex- THK OLD BANK CLOSE. 75 pense of his journey to Scotland. The affairs in which he was eng'as^ed would now be considered important even in the g-reat occidental emporium. For example, he farmed the customs on wine at £6222, and the crown rents of Orkney at £3000. Afterwards he farmed the excise. His fleets extended from the Baltic to the Mediterranean. The immense wealth he thus acquired enabled him to purchase large estates. He himself reckoned his property as at one time equal to two hundred thousand pounds sterling. Strange to say, this great merchant came to poverty, and died in a prison. The reader of the Waverley novels may remember David Deans telling how his father 'saw them toom the sacks of dollars out o' Provost Dick's window intill the carts that carried them to the army at Dunse Law' — 'if ye winna believe his testimony, there is the window itsell still standing in the Luckenbooths — T think it's a claith-mercliant's buith the day.' This refers to large advances which Dick made to the Covenanters, to enable them to carry on the war against the king. The house alluded to is actually now a claith-merchant's booth, having long been in the possession of Messrs John Clapperton and Company. Two years after Dunse Law, Dick gave the Covenanters 100,000 merks in one sum. Subsequently, being, after all, of royalist tendencies, he made still larger advances in favour of the Scottish government during the time when Charles IL was connected with it; and thus provoking the wrath of the English commonwealth, his ruin was completed by the tines to which he was subjected by that party when triumphant, amounting in all to £65,000. Poor Sir William Dick — for he had been made a baronet by Charles 1. — went to London to endeavour to recover some part of his lost means. When he represented the in- digence to which he had been reduced, he was told that he was always able to procure pj-e-crust when other men could not get bread. There was, in fact, a prevalent idea that he possessed some supernatural means — such as the philosopher's stone — of acquiring wealth. (Pye-crust came to be called Sir William Dick's Ncccssifi/.) The contrai-y was shown when the unfortunate man died soon after in a prison in Westminster. There is a picture in Prestontield House, near Edinburgh, the seat of his descendant, representing bim in this last retreat in a mean dress, surrounded by 70 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. his numerous hapless family. A rare pamphlet, descriptive of his case, presents engraving^s of three such pictures ; one exhibiting- him on horseback, attended by g'uards as Lord Provost of Edinburgh, superintending the unloading of one of his rich ships at Leith ; another as a prisoner in the hands of the bailiffs ; the third as dead in prison. A more memorable example of the instability of fortune does not occur in our history. It seems completely to realise the picture in Job (chap. 27) — 'The rich man shall lie down, but he shall not be gathered : he openeth his eyes, and he is not. Terrors take hold on him as waters ; a tempest stealeth him away in the night. The east wind carrieth him away, and he departeth ; and as a storm, hurleth him out of his place. For God shall cast upon him, and not spare : he would fain fiee out of his hand. Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place.' The fortunes of the family were restored by Sir William's gi'andson. Sir James, a remarkably shrewd man, who was likewise a merchant in Edinburgh. There is a traditionary story that this gentleman, observing the utility of manure, and that the streets of Edinbui'gh were loaded with it, to the detriment of the comfort of the inhabitants, offered to relieve the town of this nuisance, on condition that he should be allowed, for a certain term of years, to carry it away gratis. Consent was given, and the Prestonfield estate became, in consequence, like a garden. The Duke of York had a great affection for Sir James Dick, and used to walk through the Park to visit him at his house very frequently. Hence, according to the report of the family, the way his Royal Highness took came to be called The Duke's Walk ; after- wards a famous resort for the lighting of duels. Sir James became Catholic, and, while provost in 1681, had his house burned over his head by the collegianers ; but it was rebuilt, as it now stands, at the public expense. His grandson. Sir Alexander Dick, is referred to in kindly terms in Boswell's 'J'our to the Hebrides, as a venerable man of studious habits, and a friend of men of letters. The reader will probably learn with some surprise that, though Sir William's descen- dants never recovered any of the money lent by him to the state, a lady of his family, living in 1844, was in the enjoyment of a pension with express reference to that ancient claim. THE OLD TOLBOOTH. The g'enius of Scott has shed a peculiar interest upon this ancient structure, whose cant name of the Heart of Mid-Lothian has g-iven a title to one of his happiest novels. It stood in a singular situation, occupying half the width of the High Street, elbow to elbow, as it were, with St Giles's church. Antique in form, gloomy and haggard in aspect, its black stancheoned windows opening through its dingy walls like the apertures of a hearse, it was calculated to impress all beholders with a due and deep sense of what was meant in Scottish la^v- by the squalor carceris. At the west end was a projecting ground-floor, formed of shops, but presenting a platform on which executions took place. The building itself was composed of two parts, one more solid and antique than the other, and much resembling, with its turret staircase, one of those tall narrow fortalices which are so numerous in the border counties. Indeed the pro- bability is, that this had been a kind of peel or house of defence, required for public purposes by the citizens of Edinburgh, when liable to predatory invasions. Doubtless, the house or some part of it was of great antiquity, for it was an old and ruinous building in the reign of Mary, and only narrowly saved at that time from destruction. Most likely it was the very prctorium bi/rr/i de Edinburgi in which a parliament assembled in 1438, to deliberate on the measures rendered necessary by the assassination of the poet-king, James I. In those simple days, great and humble things came close together : the house which con- tained parliaments up-stairs, presented shops in the lower storey, and thus drew in a little revenue to the magistrates. Here met the Court of Session in its earliest years. Here Mary assembled her pai'liaments, and here — on the Tol- booth door — did citizens affix libels by night, charging the Earl of Bothwell with the murder of Darnley. Long, long since, all greatness had been taken away from the old building, and it was condemned to be a jail alone, though still witli shops underneath. At length, in 1817, the fabric, was wholly swept away, in consequence of the erection of a better jail on the Calton Hill. The gateway, with the door 78 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. and padlock, was transferred to Abbotsford, and, with strange taste on the part of the proprietor, built into a conspicuous part of that mansion. The principal entrance to the Tolbooth, and the only one used in later days, was at the bottom of the turret next the church. The gateway was of tolerably good carved stone- work, and occupied by a door of ponderous massiness and strength, having, besides the lock, a flap-padlock, which, however, was generally kept unlocked durmg the day. In front of the door there always paraded, or rather loitered, a private of the town-guard, with his rusty red clothes, and Lochaber axe or musket. The door adjacent to the prin- cipal gateway was, in the final days of the Tolbooth, * Michael Ketten's Shoe-shop,' but had formerly been a thief's hole. The next door to that, stepping westward, was the residence of the turnkey ; a dismal unlighted den, where the gray old man was always to be found, when not engaged in unlocking or closing the door. The next door westward was a lock-up house, which in later times was never used. On the north side, towards the street, there had once been shops, which were let by the magistrates ; but these were converted, about the year 1787, into a guard- house for the city-guard, on their ancient capitol in the High Street being destroyed for the levelling of the streets. The ground-floor, thus occupied for purposes in general remote from the character of the building, was divided lengthwise by a strong partition wall ; and communication between the rooms above and these apartments below, was effectually interdicted by the sti'ong arches upon which the superstructure was reared. On passing the outer dooi" — where the rioters of 1736 thundered with their sledge-hammers, and finally burnt down all that interposed between them and their prey — the keeper instantly involved the entrant in darkness, by re- closing the gloomy portal. A flight of about twenty steps then led to an inner door, which, being duly knocked at, was opened by a bottle-nosed personage denominated Peter, who, like his sainted namesake, always carried two or three large keys. You then entered the Hall, which, being fi-ee to all the prisoners except those of the East End, was usually filled with a crowd of shabby-looking, but very merry loungers. A small rail here served as an additional secu- THE OLD TOLBOOTH. 79 rity, no prisoner being- permitted to come within its pale. Here also a sentinel of the city-guard was always walking-, having- a bayonet or ramrod in his hand. The Hall, being- also the chapel of the jail, contained an old pulpit of sin- g-ular fashion — such a pulpit as one could imagine John Knox to have preached from ; which, indeed, he was tradi- tionally said to have actually done. At the right-hand side of the pulpit was a door leading- up the large turnpike to the apartments occupied by the criminals, one of which was of plate iron. The door was always shut, except when food was taken up to the prisoners. On the west end of the Hall hung a board, on which were inscribed the following emphatic lines : — ' A prison is a house of care, A place where none can thrive, A touchstone true to try a friend, A grave for men alive — Sometimes a place of right, Sometimes a place of wrong, Sometimes a place for jades and thieves, And honest men among.' * A part of the Hall on the north side was partitioned off into two small rooms, one of which was the captain's pantry, the other his counting-room. In the latter hung an old musket or two, a pair of obsolete bandoleers, and a sheath of a bayonet, intended, as one might suppose, for his defence against a mutiny of the prisoners. Including the space thus occupied, the Hall was altogether twenty-seven feet long by about twenty broad. The height of the room was twelve feet. Close to the door, and within the rail, was a large window, thickly stanchioned, and at the other end of the Hall, within the captain's two rooms, was a double window, of a somewhat extraordinary character. Tradition, supported by the appearance of the place, pointed out this as having formerly been a door by which royalty entered the Hall, in the days when it was the Parliament House. It is said that a kind of bridge was thrown be- tween this aperture and a house on the other side of the * These verses are to be found in a curious volume, which appeared in London in 1618 under the title of ' E.ssayes and Characters of a I'rison and Prisoners, by Getfray Mynshul, of Graycs Inn, Gent.' Keprintod, 1821, by W. & C. Tait, Edinburgh. The lines were applied siiecially to the King's Bench I'ri^on. 80 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. street, and that the sovereig-n, having prepared himself in that house to enter the Hall in his state robes, proceeded at the proper time along- the arch — an arrangement by no means improbable in those days of straitened accommoda- tion. The window on the south side of the Hall overlooked the outer gateway. It was therefore employed by the inner turnkey as a channel of communication with his exterior brother when any visitor was going out. He used to cry over this window, in the tone of a military order upon parade, ' Turn your hand,^ whereupon the gray-haired marf on the pavement below opened the door and permitted the visitor, who by this time had descended the stair, to walk out. The floor immediately above the Hall was occupied by one room for felons, having a bar along part of the floor, to which condemned criminals were chained, and a square box of plate iron in the centre, called the cage, which was said to have been constructed for the purpose of confining some extraordinary culprit, who had broken half the jails in the kingdom. Above this room was another of the same size, also appropriated to felons. The larger and western part of the edifice, of coarser, and apparently more modern construction, contained four floors, all of which were appropriated to the use of debtors, except a part of the lowest one, where a middle-aged woman kept a tavern for the sale of malt liquors. A turnpike stair gave access to the different floors. As it was narrow, steep, and dark, the visitor was assisted in his ascent by a greasy rope, which, some one was sure to inform him afterwards, had been employed in hanging a criminal. In one of the apart- ments on the second floor, was a door leading out to the platform whereon criminals were executed, and in another on the floor above, was an ill-plastered part of the wall, covering the aperture through which the gallows was pro- jected. The fourth flat was a kind of barrack, for the use of the poorest debtors. There was something about the Old Tolbooth which would have enabled a blindfolded person, led into it, to say that it was a jail. It was not merely odorous from the ordinary causes of imperfect drainage, but it had poverty's own smell — the odour of human misery. And yet it did THE OLD TOLBOOTH. 81 not seem at first a downcast scene. The pi'omenaders in the Hall were sometimes rather merry, cutting" jokes per- haps upon Peter's nose, or chatting with friends on the benches i-eg-arding; the news of the day. Then Mrs Laing- drove a g-ood trade in her little tavern; and if any messen- ger were sent out for a bottle of whisicy — why, Peter never seai'ched pockets. New men were hailed with — ' Welcome, welcome, brother debtor. To this poor but merry place ; Here nor bailiff, dun, nor fetter, Dare to show his gloomy face.' They would be abashed at first, and the first visit of wife or daughter, coming shawled and veiled, and with timorous g'lances, into the room where the loved object was trying- to become at ease with his companions, was always a touch- ing affair. But it was surprising how soon, in general, all became familiar, easy, and even to appearance happy. Each had his story to tell, and sympathy was certain and liberal. The whole management was of a good-natured kind, as far as a regard to regulations would allow. It did not seem at all an impossible thing that a debtor should accommodate some even more desolate friend with a share of his lodgino- for the night, or for many nights, as is said to have been done in some noted instances, to which we shall presently come. It was natural for a jail of such old standing to have passed through a great number of odd adventures, and have many strange tales connected with it. One of the most remarkable traits of its character was a sad liability to the failure of its ordinary powers of retention when men of figure were in question. The old house had something like that faculty attributed by FalstafF to the lion and himself — of knowing men who ought not to be too roughly handled. The consequence was, that almost every criminal of rank confined in it made his escape. Lord Burleigh, an insane peer, who, about the time of the union, assassinated a schoolmaster who had married a girl to whom he had paid improper addresses, needled his way out while under sen- tence of death. So did several of the rebel gentlemen con- fined there in 171G; a fact on which there was lately thrown a flood of light, when I found, in a manuscript list of subscriptions for the relief of the other rebel gentlemen at VOL. VI. F 82 TRADITIOMS OF EDINBURGH. Carlisle, the name of the Guidman of the Tolbooth — so the chief keeper was called — down for a good sum. I am un- certain whether the following- anecdote, related to me some years ago by Sir Walter Scott, refers to Lord Burleigh, or to some other titled malefactor. It was contrived that the prisoner should be conveyed out of the Tolbooth in a trunk, and carried by a porter to Leith, where some sailors were to be ready with a boat to take him aboard a vessel about to leave Scotland. The plot succeeded so far as the escape from jail was concerned, but was knocked on the head by an unlucky and most ridiculous accident. It so happened that the porter, in arranging- the trunk upon his back, placed the end which corresponded with the feet of the prisoner uppermost. The head of the unfortunate man was therefore pressed ag'ainst the lower end of the box, and had to sustain the weight of the whole body. The pos- ture was the most uneasy imaginable. Yet life was prefer- able to ease. He permitted himself to be taken away. The porter trudged along with the trunk, quite unconscious of its contents, and soon reached the High Street. On gaining the Netherbow, he met an acquaintance, who asked him where he was going with that large burden. To Leith, was the answer. The other inquired if the job was good enough to afford a potation before proceeding farther upon so long a journey. This being replied to in the affirmative, and the carrier of the box feeling in his throat the philosophy of his friend's inquiry, it was agreed that they should adjourn to a neighbouring tavern. Meanwhile, the third party, whose inclinations had not been consulted in this arrangement, was wishing that it were at once well over with him in the Grassmarket. But his agonies were not destined to be of long duration. The porter, in depositing him upon the causeway, happened to make the end of the trunk come down with such precipitation, that, unable to bear it any longer, the prisoner screamed out, and immediately after fainted. The consternation of the porter, on hearing a noise from his burden, was of course excessive ; but he soon re- covered presence of mind enough to conceive the occasion. He proceeded to unloose and to burst open the trunk, when the hapless nobleman was discovered in a state of insensi- bility. As a crowd collected immediately, and the city-guard were not long in coming forward, there was of course no THE OLD TOLBOOTH. 83 further chance of escape. The prisoner did not eventually recover from his swoon till he had been safely deposited in his old quarters ; but, if I recollect rightly, he eventually escaped in another way. In two very extraordinary instances an escape from justice has, strange as it may appear, been effected by means of the Old Tolbooth. At the discovery of the Rye-House Plot, in the reign of Charles II., the notorious Robert Fer- gusson, usually styled 'The Plotter,' was searched for in Edinburgh, with a view to his being subjected, if possible, to the extreme vengeance of the law. It being known almost certainly that he was in town, the authorities shut the gates, and calculated securely upon having him safe within their toils. The Plotter, however, by an expedient worthy of his ingenious character, escaped by taking refuge m the Old Tolbooth. A friend of his happened to be con- lined there at the time, and was able to afford protection and concealment to Fergusson, who, at his leisure, came abroad, and betook himself to a place of safer shelter on the continent. The same device was practised in 1746 by a gentleman who had been concerned in the Rebellion, and for whom a hot search had been carried on in the High- lands. The case of Katherine Nairne, in 1766, excited in no small degree the attention of the Scottish public. This lady was allied, both by blood and marriage, to some respectable families. Her crime was the double one of poisoning her husband, and having an intrigue with his brother, who was her associate in the murder. On her arrival at Leith in an open boat, her whole bearing betrayed so much levity, or was so different from what had been expected, that the mob raised a cry of indignation, and were on the point of pelting her, when she was with some difficulty rescued from their hands by the public authorities. In this case the Old Tolbooth found itself, as usual, incapable of retaining a culprit of condition. Sentence had been delayed by the judges, on account of the lady's pregnancy. The midwife employed at her accouchement (who continued to practise in Edinburgh so lately as the year 1805) had the address to achieve a jail-delivery also. For three or four days previous to that concerted for the escape, she pretended to be afflicted with a prodigious toothache; went out and in 84 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. with her head enveloped in shawls and flannels ; and groaned as if she had been about to g-ive up the ghost. At leng'th, when the Peter of that day had become so habituated to her appearance, as not very much to heed her exits and her entrances, Katherine Nairne one evening' came down in her stead, with her head wrapped all round with the shawls, uttering" the usual groans, and holding down her face upon her hands, as with agony, in the precise way customary with the midwife. The inner doorkeeper, not quite uncon- scious, it is supposed, of the trick, gave her a hearty thump upon the back as she passed out, calling her at the same time a howling old Jezebel, and wishing she would never (;ome back to trouble him any more. There are two reports of the proceedings of Katherine Nairne after leaving the prison. One bears, that she immediately left the town in a (3oach, to which she was handed by a friend stationed on purpose. The coachman, it is said, had orders from her relations, in the event of a pursuit, to drive into the sea, that she might drown herself — a fate which was considered pre- ferable to the ignominy of a public execution. The other story runs, that she went up the Lawnmarket to the Castle Hill, where lived Mr , a respectable advocate, from whom, as he was her cousin, she expected to receive protection. Being" ignorant of the town, she mistook the proper house, and applied at that of the crown ag"ent,* who was assuredly the last man in the world that could have done her any service. As good luck would have it, she was not recognised by the servant, who civilly directed her to her cousin's house, where it is said she remained concealed many weeks. Her future life, it has been reported, was virtuous and fortunate. She was married to a French gentleman, became the mother of a large family, and died at a good old age. Meanwhile, Patrick Ogilvie, her associate in the dark crime which threw a shade over her younger years, suffered in the Grassmarket. He had been a lieutenant in the regiment, and was so much beloved by his fellow-soldiers, who happened to be stationed at that time in Edinburgh Castle, that the public authorities judged it necessary to shut them up in that fortress till the execution was over, lest they might have attempted a rescue. • The laree wlilto house nearest tbc Castle, on the north side of the >trci't. THE OLD TOLBOOTH. 85 The Old Tolbooth was the scene of the suicide of Mun doubt taken from the former condition of Westminster Hall. John Spottiswoode of Spottiswoode, who, in 1718, published the Forms of Process before the Court of Session, mentions that there were ' two keepers of the session-house, who had small salaries to do all the menial ofiices in the house, and that no small part of their annual perquisites came from the kramers in the outer hall.' [justice in bygone times.] The memories which have been preseiwed of the adminis- tration of justice by the Court of Session in its earlier days, are not such as to increase our love for past times.* This court is described by Buchanan as extremely arbitrary, and by a nearly contemporary historian (Johnston) as infamous for its dishonesty. An advocate or barrister is spoken of by the latter writer as taking money from his clients, and dividing it among the judges for their votes. At this time we find the chancellor (Lord Fj'^vie) superintending * Several of tlie illustrations in the present section are immediately derived from a curious volume, full of entertainment for a denizen of the Parliament lioa^iSi—Thc Court of Session Garland. Edinburgh: Thomas Stevenson. 1839. THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 113 the lawsuits of a friend, and writing to him the way and manner in which he proposed they should be conducted. But the strong-est evidence of the corruption of 'the lords' is afforded by an act of 1579, prohibiting them ' be thame selffis or be their wifSs or servandes, to tak in ony time cuming, huddis, hryhes, gudes, or ffcir, fra quhatever persone or persons presentlie havand, or that heirefter sail happyne to have, any actionis or caussis purseioit befo^ir thume, aither fra the perse wer or defender,' under pain of confiscation. Had not bribery been common amongst the judges, such an act as this could never have been passed. In the curious history of the family of Somerville, there is a very remarkable anecdote illustrative of the course of justice at that period. Lord Somerville and his kinsman, Somerville of Cambusnethan, had long carried on a litiga- tion. The former was at length advised to use certain means for the advancement of his cause with the Reg-ent Moi'ton, it being then customary for the sovereign to preside in the court. Accordins'ly, having one evening caused his agents to prepare all the required papers, he went next morning- to the palace, and being admitted to the regent, informed him of the cause, and intreated him to order it to be called that forenoon. He then took out his purse, as if to give a i&'fr pieces to the pages or servants, and slipping it down upon the table, hurriedly left the presence-chamber. The earl cried several times after him, ' My lord, you have left your purse;' but he had no wish to stop. At length, when he was at the outer porch, a servant overtook him with a re- quest that he would go back to breakfast with the regent. He did so, was kindly treated, and soon after was taken by Morton in his coach to the court-room in the citj'. ' Cam- busnethan, by accident, as the coach passed, was standing at Niddi-y's Wynd head, and having inquired who was in it with the regent, he was answered, " None but Lord Somerville and Lord Boyd ; " upon which he struck his breast, and said, "This day my cause is lost !" and indeed it proved so.' By twelve o'clock that day, Lord Somerville had gained a cause which had been hanging in suspense for years. In those days, both civil and criminal procedure was con- ducted in much the same spirit as a suit at war. When a great noble was to be tried for some monstrous murder or VOL. VI. II 114 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. treason, he appeared at the bar with as many of his re- tainers, and as many of his friends and their retainers, as he could muster, and justice only had its course if the government chanced to be the strongest, which often was not the case. It was considered dishonourable not to coun- tenance a friend in troubles of this kind, however black might be his moral guilt. The trial of Bothwell for the assassination of Darnley is a noted example of a criminal outbraving his judges and jury. Relationship, friendly connexion, solicitation of friends, and direct bribes, were admitted and recognised influences to which the civil judge was expected to give way. If a difficulty were found in inducing a judge to vote against his conscience, he might at least perhaps be induced by some of those considerations to absent himself, so as to allow the case to go in the desii'ed way. The story of the abduction of Gibson of Durie by Christie's Will, and his immurement in a border tower for some weeks, that his voice might be absent in the decision of a case — as given in the Border Minstrelsy by Scott — is only incorrect in some particulars. (As the real case is reported in. Pitcairn's Criminal Trials,it appears that, in September 1601, Gibson was carried off from the neighbourhood of St Andrews by George Meldrum, younger of Dumbreck,and hastily tran- sported to the castle of Harbottle in Northumberland, and kept there for eight days.) But, after all, Scotland was not singular among European nations in these respects. In Moliere's Misanthrope, produced in 1666, we hnd the good- natured Philinte coolly remonstrating with Alceste on his un- reasonable resolution to let his lawsuit depend only on right and equity. ' Que voulez-vous done, qui pour vous soUicite ?' says Philinte. ' Aucun juge par vous ne sera visite V * Je ne remuerai point,' retm-ns the misanthrope. Philinte. Votre partie est forte, et pent par sa cabale entrainer. Alceste. II n'importe. . . . Philinte. Quel homme ! . On se riroit de vous, Alceste, s'il on vous cntcndoit parler de la facon. (People would laugh at you, if they heard you talk in this manner.) It is a general tradition in Scotland that the English judges whom Cromwell sent down to administer the law in Scotland, for the first time made the people acquainted with impartiality of judgment. It is added, that after the Restoration, when native lords were again put upon the bench, some one, in presence of the President Gilmour, THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 115 lauding the late Englisli judges for the equity of their proceedings, his lordship angrily remarked, ' De'il thank them ; a wheen kinless loons ! ' That is, no thanks to them ; a set of fellows without relations in the country, and who, consequently, had no one to please by their decisions. After the Restoration, there was no longer direct bribing, but other abuses still flourished. The judges were tampered with by private solicitation. Decisions went in favour of the man of most personal or family influence. The follow- ing anecdote of the reign of Charles II. rests on excellent authority : — '■ A Scotch gentleman having intreated the Earl of Rochester to speak to the Duke of Lauderdale upon the account of a business that seemed to be supported by a clear and undoubted right, his lordship very obligingly promised to do his utmost endeavours to engage the duke to stand his friend in a concern so just and reasonable as his was; and accordingly, having conferred with his Grace about the matter, the duke made him this very odd return, that though he questioned not the right of the gentleman he re- commended to him, yet he could not promise him a helping hand, and far less success in business, if he knew not first the man, whom perhaps his lordship had some reason to conceal ; " Because," said he to the earl, " if your lordship were as well acquainted with the customs of Scotland as I am, you had undoubtedly known this among others — Shoio me the vian., and Til shoio yoti the law ;" giving him to understand that the law in Scotland could protect no man, if either his purse were empty, or his adversaries great men, or supported by great ones.' * One peculiar means of favouring a particular party was then in the power of the presiding judg-e : he could call a cause when he pleased. Thus he would watch till one or more judges who took the opposite view to his own were out of the way — either in attendance on other duties, or from illness — and then calling the cause, would decide it accord- ing to his predilection. Even the first President Dal- rj^mple, afterwards Viscount Stair, one of the most eminent men whom the Scottish law-courts have ever produced, condescended to favour a party in this way. An act, en- * A Moral Discourse on the Power of Interest. By David Abercromby, M. D. London, 1691. P. 60. 116 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. joining- the calling of causes according to their place in a regular roll, was passed in the reign of Charles II. ; but the practice was not enforced till the days of President Forbes, sixty years later. We have a remarkable illustration of the partiality of the bench in a circumstance which took place about the time of the Revolution. During the pleadings in a case between Mr Pitilloch, an advocate, and Mr Aytoun of Inchdairnie, the former applied the term briber to Lord Harcarse, a judge seated at the moment on the bench, and who was father-in-law to the opposite party. The man was imprisoned for contempt ; but this is not the point. Not long after, in this same cause, Lord Harcarse went down to the bar in his gown, and pleaded for his son-in-law Aytoun ! About that period a curious indirect means of influencing the judges began to be notorious. Each lord had a de- pendent or favourite, generally some young relative, prac- tising in the court, through whom it was understood that he could be prepossessed with a favourable view of any cause. This functionary was called a Peat or Pate, from a circumstance thus related in Wilkes's North Briton : — ' One of the former judges of the Court of Session, of the first character, knowledge, and application to business, had a son at the bar whose name was Patrick ; and when the suitors came about, soliciting his favour, his question was, " Have you consulted Pat 1 " If the answer was affirmative, the usual reply of his lordship was, " I'll inquire of Pat about it : I'll take care of your cause : go home and mind your business." The judge, in that case, was even as good as his word, for while his brother judges were robing, he would tell them what pains his son had taken, and what trouble he had put himself to, by his directions, in order to find out the real circumstances of the dispute ; and as no one on the bench would be so unmannerly as to question the veracity of the son, or the judgment of the father, the decree always went according to the information of Pat. At the present era, in case a judge has no son at the bar, his nearest relation (and he is sure to have one there) offi- ciates in that station. But, as it frequently happens, if there are Pats employed on each side, the judges differ, and the greatest interest — that is, the longest purse — is sure to carry it.' There is a rhyme of the latter part of the seven- THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 117 teenth century satirising the three sons of George, first Earl of Melville :— ' T]iree brave sons, and all gallant statesmen— There's Crooked Son, and AVicked Son— the third son is a Pateman, And if your purse be full enough, it will end all debate, man." This Pateman was James Melville of Balgarvie : his two elder brothers were successively Earls of Melville. There is another satirical poem of the same era, entitled ' Robert Cook's Petition to the Lords of Session against the Peats.' It is curious and humorous ; but in such matters one does not know how much to believe. The writer, after stating ' That he's likely to starve, unless he's made a peat," wishes to know ' Whose peat he must be : Tlie president's* he cannot, because he has three. And for my Lord Hatton.f his son, now Sir John, By all is declared to be peattie patron. It's true my Lord Repister+ at iirst did appear A vacant place to have, but your petitioner doth fear, For no other end did his brother of late His ensign's place sell, but to be made a, pate. Old Nevoy§ by all is judged such a sot. That \xis pi-atship could ne'er be thought worth a groat; Yet John Hay of Murie, his peaty, as I hear. By virtue of his daughter, makes thousands a-year. Newbythll heretofore went snips with the peats. But having discovered them all to be cheats. Resolves for the future his son Willie Baird Should be pent for his house, as well as young laird. My Lord Newton,^ a body that gladly would live, Is ready to take wliate'er men would give. Who wisely considers when jieat to himself, He avoids all danger in parting the pelf.' He then concludes his petition with craving * To be a peat to some peat ; Or, in Pittenweem's language, to make his peat's meat.' At the Union, a strong sense of the partiality of the Court of Session pervaded the public mind in Scotland ; and it was in consequence of this feeling that an appeal to the House of Lords was then established. In a pamphlet of * Lord Stair. t Mr Cliarles Maitland, afterwards Earl of Lauderdale. 5 Sir Archibald I'rimrose. § Sir David Nevoy, admitted a judge in 1C61. n Sir John Baird, ni.ide a judge in IGW. ^ Sir David Falconer. This gentleman was grandfather to David Uurne by the mother's side. 118 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. that time, in which the appeal was ably contended for, the absolute power hitherto enjoyed by the Court of Session was said to have filled the nation with discontent. * What shall they think,' says this writer, * of the absolute power, who observe that men take not ordinarily their measures according to the justice or injustice of their suits, but their influence and interests tcith the lords, adhering- to the old compend of the Scots law, Sliow me the man, and I'll show you the law! From this time, moreovei', the national feel- ings to which the evil was in some measure to be traced began to decline. Formerly, Scotland was a small secluded country, of little population, and yet always placed in compe- tition with a powerful and populous one. Hence an intense self-love, like that which animates Holland at this day, took possession of it. Accustomed to look at everything through the spectacles of national prepossession, and to defend every- thing Scotch, without the least regard to its real merits, it is not wonderful that men became affected by still narrower considerations, that they loved their own relatives too well to do justice upon them, and would stand by a friend not only in promoting his legitimate welfare, but in wreaking out his worst passions. It was not with them, ' God defend the right,' but ' God defend the good Hamilton's regiment, right or wrong.' But during the last century, when Scot- land had become almost an integral part of another country, these prejudices gradually gave way. Public morality improving at the same time from the operation of other causes, partiality of judgment on the bench was gradually extinguished. I bring the subject to a conclusion by a quotation from the Court of Session Garland : — ' Even so far down as 1737, traces of the ancient evil may be found. Thus, in some very curious letters which passed between William Foulis, Esq. of Woodhall, and his agent, Thomas Gibson of Dury, there is evidence that private influence could even then be resorted to. The agent writes to his client, in reference to a pending lawsuit (23d November 1735): — "I have spoke to Strachan and several of the lords, who are all surprised Sir F(rancis Kinloch) should stand that plea. By Lord St Clair's advice, Mrs Kinloch is to wait on Lady Cairnie to- morrow, to cause her ask the favour of Lady St Clair to solicit Lady Betty Elphingston and Lady Dun. My lord THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 119 promises to back his lady, and to ply both their lords, also Leven and his cousin Murkle.* He is your g-ood friend, and wishes success ; he is jealous Mrs Mackie will side with her cousin Beatie. St Clair says Levenf has oiilj once gone \orong upon his hand since he was a Lord of Session. Mrs Kinloch has been with Miss Pring'le, Newhall. Young' Dr Pringle is a good agent there, and discourses Lord New- hall J strongly on the law of nature" &c, 'Again, upon the 23d of January 1737, he writes : — "I can assure you that when Lord Primrose left this town, he stayed all that day with Lord J(ustice) C(lerk),§ and went to Andrew Broomfield at night, and went oif post next morning ; and what made him despair of getting anything done was, that it has been so long delayed, after promising so frankly, when he knew the one could cause the other trot to him like a pennj'-dog, when he pleased. But there's another hindrance : I suspect much Penty|| has not been in town as yet, and I fancy it's by him the other must be managed. The Ld. J(ustice) C(lerk) is frank enough, but the other two are clippies. I met with Bavelaw and Mr William on Tuesday last. I could not persuade the last to go to a wine-house, so away we went to an aquavity- house, where I told ]\Ir Wm. what had passed, as I had done before that to Bavelaw. They seemed to agree no- thing could be done just now, but to know why Lord DrummorelT dissuaded bringing in the plea last winter. / have desired Lord Huining to speak, but only expect his answer against Tuesday or Wednesday." ' It is not our intention to pursue these remarks further, although we believe that judicial corruption continued long" after the Union. We might adduce Lord President Forbes as a witness on this point, who, one of the most upright * John Sinclair of Murkle, appointed a Lord of Session in 1733. t Alexander Leslie, advocate, succeeded his nephew as fifth Earl of Leven, and fovirth Earl of Melville, in 1729. He was named a Lord of Session, and took his seat on the bench on the 11th of July 1734. He died 2d February 1754. i Sir Vi'alter Pringle of Newhall, raised to the bench in I7I8. § Andrew Fletcher of Milton was appointed, on the resignation of James Erskine of Grange, Lord Justice-Clerk, and took his seat on the bench 21st June 1735. I Probably Gibson of Pentland. ^ Hew Dalrymple of Drummore, appointed a Lord of Session in 1726. 120 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. lawyers himself, did not take any pains to conceal his con tempt for many of his brethren. A favourite toast of his is said to have been — " Here's to such of the judges as don't deserve the gallows."* Latterly, the complaint against the judges was not so much for corrupt dealing, with the view of enriching themselves or their " pet " lawyer, but for weak prejudices and feelings, which but ill accorded with the high office they filled. ' These abuses, the recapitulation of which may amuse and instruct, are now only matter of history — the spots that once sullied the garments of justice are effaced, and the old compend, "Show me the man, and I'll show you the law," is out of date.' [court of session garland.] A curious characteristic view of the Scottish bench about the year 1771 is presented in a doggrel ballad, supposed to have been a joint composition of James Boswell and John Maclaurin, advocates, and professedly the history of a pro- cess regarding a bill containing a clause of penalty in case of failui'e. This Court of Session Garlatid, as it is called, is here subjoined, with such notes on persons and things as the reader may be supposed to require or care for. * A story is told of one of the judges of the old school, which, if correct, indicates that not quite a century since there still did exist some of the old leaven. It is said that a lawsuit had for some time depended between the magistrates of a certain circuit town and some neighbouring proprietor, which had been brought to a termination unfavourable to the wishes of the former by the admirable management of one of the judges. This emi- nent person, who happened to be a justiciary judge, had occasion officially to visit the town in question, where he was received with becoming gratitude and attention by the gratified magistrates. At a feast— whether given by the judge or his clients, we forget— the magistrates gravely thanked the learned lord for his kind exertions, and trusted he would continue his patronage. My lord smiled and bowed, and looked particularly amiable ; presuming on his good-nature and complacent demeanour, one of the number ventured to hint that his lordship's services might again be required, as they, emboldened by their former success, had commenced another new suit, and he was humbly requested to carry them through with that case also. ' Na, na, I canna do that ! ' exclaimed my lord. ' Why ? ' inquired the magistrates, amazed pro- bably at what they conceived to he a most uncalled-for scruple of conscience. ' Because," rejoined the judge, ' you're too late ; I've already gi'cn mypromise to the opposite party.' 9 THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 121 PART FIRST. The bill charged on was payable at sight, And decree was craved by Alexander Wight ;* But because it bore a penalty in case of failzie. It therefore was null, contended Willie Baillie.f The Ordinary, not choosing to judge it at random, Did with the minutes make avisandum ,- And as the pleadings were vague and windy, His lordship ordered Memorials hinc hide. We, setting a stout heart to a stay brae. Took into the cause Mr David Rae.:!: Lord Auchinleck,§ however, repelled our defence. And, over and above, decerned for expense. However, of our cause not being ashamed. Unto the whole lords we straightway reclaimed ; And our Petition was appointed to be seen. Because it was drawn by Robbie Macqueen.O The Answer by Lockhart^ himself it was ^vrote, And in it no argument nor fact was forgot. He is the lawyer that from no cause will flinch, And on this occasion divided the bench. Alemore* * the judgment as illegal blames ; • 'Tis equity, j'ou bitch,' replies my Lord Kames.ft ' This cause,' cries Hailes,:j;:j: ' to judge I can't pretend, Forjttstice, I perceive, wants an e at the end." * Author of a Treatise on Election Laws, and Solicitor-General during the Coalition Ministry in 1783. t Afterwards Lord Polkemmet. $ Afterwards Lord Eskgrove and Lord Justice-Clerk. § Alexander Boswell, Esq. of Auchinleck, the author's father — appointed to the bench in 1754 ; died 1782. This gentleman was a precise old Pres- byterian, and therefore the most opposite creature in the world to his son, who was a cavalier in politics, and an Episcopalian. n Afterwards Lord Braxfield — appointed 1776 ; died 1800, while holding the office of Lord Justice-Clerk. ^ Alexander Lockhart, Esq. decidedly the greatest lawyer at the Scottish bar in his day — appointed to the bench in 1774 ; died in 1782. ** Andrew Pringle, Esq. — appointed a judge in 1759; died 1776. This gentleman was remarkable for his fine oratory, which was praised highly by Sheridan the lecturer (father of R. B. Sheridan), in his Discourses on English Oratory. tt Henry Home, Esq.— raised to the bench 1752 ; died 1783. This great man, so remarkable for his metaphysical subtlety and literary abilities, was strangely addicted to the use of the coarse word in the text. it Sir David DalrjTnple — appointed a judge in 1766; died 1792. A story is told of Lord Hailes once making a serious objection to a law-paper, and, in consequence, to the whole suit to which it belonged, on account of the word juHice being spelt in the manner mentioned in the text. Perhaps no author ever affected so much critical accuracy as Lord Hailes, and yet there never was a book published with so large an array of corrigenda d addenda as the first edition of the Annals of Scotland. 122 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Lord Coalstoun * expressed his doubts and his fears ; And Strichenf threw in his wecl-iveels and oh dears. ' This cause much resembles the case of Mac-Harg, And should go the same way,' says Lordie Barjarg4 ' Let me tell you, my lords, this cause is no joke ! ' Says, with a horse-laugh, my Lord Elliock. § ' To have read all the papers I pretend not to brag ! ' Says my Lord Gardenstone,ll with a snuff and a wag. Up rose the president,^ and an angry man was he— ' To alter the judgment I can never agree ! ' The east wing cried ' Yes,' and the west wing cried ' Not ; And it was carried 'Adhere'** by my lord's casting vote. The cause being somewhat knotty and perplext, Their lordships did not know how they'd determine next ; And as the session was to rise so soon, They superseded extract till the 12th of June.ft PART SECOND. Having lost it so nigh, we prepare for the summer. And on the 12th of June presented a Reclaimer ; But dreading a refuse, we gave Dundas:):^ a fee, And though it run nigh, it was carried ' To See. §§ In order to bring aid from usage bygone. The Answers were dra\vn by quondam Mess John. || || He united with such art our law with the civil. That the counsel on both sides wished him to the devil. * George Brown, Esq. of Coalstoun— appointed 1756 ; died 1776. t Alexander Fraser of Strichen — appointed 1730 ; died 1774. % James Erskine, Esq. subsequently titled Lord Alva — appointed 1761 ; died 1796. He was of exceedingly small stature, and upon that account deno- minated ' Lordie.' § James Veitch, Esq.— appointed 1761 ; died 1793. n Francis Garden, Esq.— appointed 1764 ; died 1793— author of several respectable literary productions. 1[ Robert Dundas, Esq. of Arniston— appointed 1760 ; died 1787. * * The bench being semicircular, and the president sitting in the centre, the seven judges on his right hand formed the east wing, those on his left formed the west. The decisions were generally announced by the words 'Ad- here' and ' Alter' — the former meaning an affirmance, the latter a reversal, of the judgment of the lord ordinary. tt The term of the summer session was then from the 12th of June to the 12th of August. XX Henry, first Viscoimt Melville, then coming forward as an advocate at the ScottiHh bar. When this great man passed advocate, he was so low in cash, that, after going through the necessary forms, ho had only one guinea left in his pocket. Upon coming home, he gave this to his sister (who lived with him), in order that she might purchase him a gown ; after which he had not a penny. However, liis talents soon filled his coffers. The go\vn is yet pre- served by the family. §§ ' To See,' is to appoint the petition against the judgment pronounced to be answered. U U John Erskine of Carnock, author of the Institute of the Law of Scotland. THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 123 The cause 'being called, my Lord Justice-Clerk,* With all due respect, began a loud bark : He appealed to his conscience, his heart, and from thence Concluded — ' To Alter,* but to give no expense. Lord Stonefield.t unwilling his judgment to pother. Or to be anticipate, agreed with his brother ; But Monboddo:): was clear the bill to enforce. Because, he observed, it was the price of a horse. Says Pitfour,§ with a wink, and his hat all a-jee, ' I remember a case in the year twenty-three — • The Magistrates of Banff contra Robert Carr ; I remember weel — I was then at the bar. Likewise, my lords, in the case of Peter Caw, Superjlua non noccnt was found to be law.' Lord Kennetll also quoted the case of one Lithgow, Where a penalty in a bill was held pro non scripto. The Lord President brought his chair to the plum, Laid hold of the bench, and brought forward his bum; ' In these Answers, my Lords, some freedoms are used, A\Tiich I could point out, provided I choosed. I was for the interlocutor, mj' lords, I admit. But am open to conviction as long's I here do sit. To oppose your precedents, I quote a few cases ;' And Tait,^ a priori, hurried up the causes. He proved it as clear as the sun in the sky, That tlieir maxims of law could not here appl3' ; That the writing in question was neither bill nor band. But something unknown in the law of the land. The question — ' Adhere," or 'Alter,' being put. It was carried — ' To Alter,' by a casting vote ; Baillie then moved — ' In the bill there's a raze ;' But by this time their lordships had called a new cause. A few additions to the notes, in a more liberal space, will complete what I have to set down regarding the lawyers of the last ag-e. [lOCKHART op COVINGTON.] Lockhart used to be spoken of by all old men about the Court of Session as a paragon. He had been at the bar * Thomas Miller, Esq. of Glenlee— appointed to this office in 1766, upon tho death of Lord Minto. He filled this situation till the death of Robert Dundas, in 1787, when (January 1788) he was made president of the Court of Session, and created a baronet, in requital for his long services as a judge. Being then far advanced in life, he did not live long to enjoy his new accession of honours, but died in September 1789. t John Campbell, Esq. of Stonefield. :|: James Burnet, Esq.— appointed 1767; died 1799. § James Fergusson, Esq.— appointed 1761 ; died 1777. He always wora his hat on the bench, on account of sore eyes. n Robert Bruce, Esq. — appointed 1764 ; died 1785. H Alexander Tait, clerk of session. 124 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. from 1722, and had attained the highest eminence long before going upon the bench, which he did at an unusually- late period of life ; yet so different were those times from the present, that, according to the report of Sir William Macleod Bannatyne to myself in 1833, Lockhart realised only about a thousand a-year by his exertions, then thought a magnificent income. The first man at the Scottish bar in our day is believed to gain at least six times this sum an- nually. Lockhart had an isolated house behind the Parlia- ment Close, which was afterwards used as the Post-office.* It was removed, some years ago, to make way for the ex- tension of the buildings connected with the court ; leaving only its coach-house surviving, now occupied as a broker's shop in the Cowgate. Mr Lockhart and Mr Fergusson (afterwards Lord Pitfoui") were rival barristers — agreeing, however, in their politics, which were of a Jacobite complexion. While the trials of the poor forty^/ive men were going on at Carlisle, these Scottish lawyers heard with indignation of the unscrupulous measures adopted to procure convictions. They immediately set off for Cai'lisle, arranging with each other that Lockhart should examine evidence, while Fergusson pleaded and ad- dressed the jury — and offering their services, they were gladly accepted as counsel by the unfortunates whose trials were yet to take place. Each exerted his abilities, in his respective duties, with the greatest solicitude, but with very- little effect. The jurors of Carlisle had been so frightened by the Highland army, that they thought everything in the shape or hue of tartan a damning proof of guilt ; and, in truth, there seemed to be no discrimination whatever exerted in inquiring into the merits of any particular criminal ; and it might have been just as fair, and much more convenient, to try them by wholesale, or in companies. At length one of * Within the memory of an old citizen, who was living in 1833, the Post- office was in tlie first floor of a house near the Cross, above an alley which Btill bears tlie name of the Post-office Close. Thence it was removed to a floor in the south side of the Parliament Square, which was fitted up like a shop, and the letters wore dealt across an ordinary coimter, like other goods. At this time all the out-of-door business of delivery was managed by one letter-carrier. About 1745, the London bag brought on one occasion no more than a single letter, addressed to the British Linen Company. From the Parliament Square the office was removed to Lord Covington's house, above described ; thence, after some years, to a house in North Bridge Street ; and thence, finally, to the present extensive buildings in Waterloo Place. THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 125 our barristers fell upon an ing-enious expedient, which had a better effect than all the eloquence he had expended. He directed his man-servant to dress himself in some tartan habiliments, to skulk about for a short time in the neigh- bourhood of the town, and then permit himself to be taken. The man did so, and was soon broug-ht into court, and ac- cused of the crime of hig-h treason, and would have been con- demned to death, had not his master stood up, claimed him as his servant, and proved beyond dispute that the supposed criminal had been in immediate attendance upon his per- son during' the whole time of the Rebellion. This stagg'ered the jury ; and, with the aid of a little amplification from the mouth of the young- advocate, served to make them more cautious afterwards in the delivery of their important fiat. To show the estimation in which Lockhart of Coving-ton was held as an advocate, the late Lord Newton, when at the bar, wore his gown till it was in tatters, and at last had a new one made, with a fragment of the neck of the origi- nal sewed into it, whereby he could still make it his boast that he wore ' Covington's gown.' [lord kames.] This able judge and philosopher in advance of his time — for such he was — is described by his biographer, Lord "Woodhouselee, as indulg-ing in a certain humorous playful- ness, which, to those who knew him intimately, detracted nothing from the feeling of respect due to his eminent talents and virtues. To strangers, his lordship admits, it might convey ' the idea of lightness.' The simple fact here shadowed forth is, that Lord Kames had a roughly playful manner, and used phrases of an ultra eccentric character. Among these was a word only legitimately applicable to the female of the canine species. The writer of the ' Garland ' introduces this characteristic phrase. When his lordship found his end approaching very near, he took a public farewell of his brethren. I was informed by an ear-and- eye witness, who is certain that he could not be mistaken, that, after addressing* them in a solemn speech, and shaking their hands all round, in going out at the door of the court- room he turned about, and casting them a last look, cried, in his usual familiar tone — ' Fare ye a' weel, ye bitches ! ' He died eight days after. 126 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. It was remarked that a person called Sinkum the Cawdy, who had a short and a long leg, and was excessively ad- dicted to swearing, used to lie in wait for Lord Kames almost every morning, and walk alongside of him up the street to the Parliament House. The mystery of Sterne's little flattering Frenchman, who begged so successfully from the ladies, was scarcely more wonderful than this intimacy, which ai'ose entirely from Lord Kames's love of the gossip which Sinkum made it his business to cater for him. These are not follies of the wise. They are only the tribute which great genius pays to simple nature. The serenity which marked the close of the existence of Kames was most creditable to him, though it appeared, perhaps, in somewhat whimsical forms to his immediate friends. For three or four days before his death, he was in a state of great debility. Some one coming in, and finding him, not- withstanding his weakness, engaged in dictating to an amanuensis, expressed surprise. ' How, man,' said the de- clining philosopher, ' would you ha'e me stay wi' my tongue in my cheek till death comes to fetch me?' [lord hailes.] When Lord Hailes died, it was a long time before any will could be found. The heir-male was about to take pos- session of his estates, to the exclusion of his eldest daughter. Some months after his lordship's death, when it was thought that all further search was vain. Miss Dalrymple prepared to retire from New Hailes, and also from the mansion-house in New Street, having lost all hope of a will being discovered in her favour. Some of her domestics, however, were sent to lock up the house in New Street, and in closing the window-shutters. Lord Hailes's will dropped out upon the floor from behind a panel, and was found to secure her in the possession of his estates, which she en- joyed for upwards of forty yeai's. The literary habits of Lord Hailes were hardly those which would have been expected from his extreme nicety of phrase. The late Miss Dalrymple once did me the honour to show me the place where he wrote the most of his works — not the fine room which contained, and still contains, his books — no secluded boudoir, or den, where he THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 127 could shut out the world, but the parlour fireside, where sat his wife and children. [lord gardenstone.] This judge had a predilection for pigs. One, in its juvenile years, took a particular fancy for his lordship, and followed him wherever he went, like a dog-, reposing in the same bed. When it attained the mature years and size of swinehood, this of course was inconvenient. However, his lordship, unwilling to part with his friend, continued to let it sleep at least in the same room, and, when he undressed, laid his clothes upon the floor as a bed to it. He said that he liked it, for it kept his clothes warm till the morning. In his mode of living he was full of strange, eccentric fan- cies, which he seemed to adopt chiefly with a view to his health, which was always that of a valetudinarian. [lord president dundas.] This distinguished judge was, in his latter years, ex- tremely subject to gout, and used to fall backwards and forwards in his chair — whence the ungracious expression in the 'Garland.' He used to characterise his six clerks thus — ' Two of them cannot read ; two of them cannot write ; and the other two can neither read nor write!' The eccen- tric Sir James Colquhoun was one of those who could not read. In former times, it was the practice of the lord presi- dent to have a sand-glass before him on the bench, with which he used to measure out the utmost time that could be allowed to a judge for the delivery of his opinion. Lord President Dundas would never allow a single moment after the expiry of the sand, and he has often been seen to shake his old-fashioned chronometer ominously in the faces of his brethren, when their ' ideas upon the subject ' began, in the words of the ' Garland,' to get vague and windy. [lord monboddo.] Lord Monboddo's motion for the enforcement of the bill, on account of its representing the value of a horse, is partly an allusion to his GuUiverhke admiration of that animal, but more particularly to his having once embroiled himself in an action respecting a horse which belonged to himself. His lordship had committed the animal, when sick, to the 128 TKADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. charge of a farrier, witli directions for the administration of a certain medicine. The farrier g'ave the medicine, but went beyond his commission, in as far as he mixed it in a liberal menstruum of treacle, in order to make it palatable. The horse dying next morning. Lord Monboddo raised a prosecution for its value, and actually pleaded his own cause at the bar. He lost the case, however ; and is said to have been so enraged in consequence at his brethren, that he never afterwards sat with them upon the bench, but un- derneath, amongst the clerks. The report of this action is exceedingly amusing, on account of the great quantity of Roman law quoted by the judges, and the strange cir- cumstances under which the case appeared before them. Lord Monboddo, with all his oddities, and though gene- rally hated or despised by his brethren, was by far the most learned, and not the least upright, judge of his time. His attainments in classical learning, and in the study of the an- cient philosophers, were singular in his time in Scotland, and might have qualified him to shine anywhere. He was the earliest patron of one of the best scholars of his age, the late Professor John Hunter of St Andrews, who was for many years his secretary, and who chiefly wrote the first and best volume of his lordship's ' Treatise on the Origin of Languages.' The manners of Lord Monboddo wei'e not more odd than his personal appearance. He looked rather like an old stuffed monkey, dressed in a judge's robes, than anything else. His face, however, ' sicklied o'er ' with the pale cast of thought, bore traces of high intellect. So convinced is he said to have been of the truth of his fantastic theory of human tails, that whenever a child happened to be born in his house, he would watch at the chamber-door, in order to see it in its first state, having a notion that the midwives pinched off the infant tails. There is a tradition that Lord Monboddo attended and ■witnessed the catastrophe of Captain Porteous in 1736. He had just that day returned from completing his law educa- tion at Leyden, and taken lodgings near the foot of the West Bow, where at that time many of the greatest lawyers resided. When the rioters came down the Bow with their hapless victim, Mr Burnet was roused from bed by the noise, came down in his night-gown with a candle in his THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 129 hand, and stood in a sort of stupor, looking- on, till the tragedy was concluded. [parliament house worthies.] Scott has sketched in Peter Peebles the type of a class of crazy and half-crazy litigants, who at all times haunt the Parliament House. Usually they are rustic men possessing' small properties, such as a house and garden, which they are constantly talking of as their ' subject.' Sometimes a faded shawl and bonnet is associated with the case — objects to be dreaded by every good-natured member of the bar. But most frequently it is simple countrymen who become pests of this kind. That is to say, simple men of difficult and captious tempers, cursed with an over-strong sense of right, or an over-strong sense of wrong, under which they would, by many degrees, prefer utter ruin to making the slightest concession to a neighbour. Ruined these men often are ; and yet it seems ruin well bought, since they have all along had the pleasure of seeing themselves and their little affairs the subject of consideration amongst men so much above themselves in rank. Peebles was, as we are assured by the novelist himself, a real person, who frequented the Edinburgh courts of justice about the year 1792, and ' whose voluminous course of liti- gation served as a sort of essay piece to most young men who were called to the bar.' * Many persons recollect him as a tall thin slouching man, of homely outworn attire, understood to be a native of Linlithgow. Having got into law about a small house, he became deranged by the cause going against him, and then peace was no more for him on earth. He used to tell his friends that he had at present thirteen causes in hand, but was only going to ' move in ' seven of them this session. When anxious for a consultation on any of his affairs, he would set out from his native burgh at the time when other people were going to bed, and reaching Edinburgh at four in the morning, would go about the town, ringing the bells of the principal advocates, in the vain hoj^e of getting one to rise and listen to him, to the infinite annoyance of many a poor serving girl, and no less of the Town-Guard, into whose hands he generally fell. * Notes to ' Redgauntlet.' VOL. VI. I 180 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Another specimen of the class was Campbell of Laguine, who had perhaps been longer at law than any man of modern times. He was a store-farmer in Caithness, and had immense tracts of land under lease. When he sold his wool, he put the price in his pocket (no petty sum), and came down to waste it in the Court of Session. His custom — an amusing example of method in madness — was to pay every meal which he made at the inns on the road double, that he might have 9. gratis meal on his return, knowing he would not bring a cross away in his pocket from the courts of justice. Laguine's figure was very extraordinary. His legs were like two circumflexes, both curving outward in the same direction ; so that, relative to his body, they took the direction of the blade of a reaping-hook, sup- posing the trunk of his person to be the handle. These extraordinary legs were always attired in Highland trews, as his body was generally in a gray or tartan jacket, with a bonnet on his head ; and duly appeared he at the door of the Parliament House, bearing a tin case, fully as big as himself, containing a plan of his farms. He paid his lawyers highly, but took up a great deal of their time. One gentleman, afterwards high in official situation, observed him coming up to ring his bell, and not wishing that he himself should throw away his time, or Laguine his fee, directed that he should be denied. Laguine, however, made his way to the lady of the learned counsel, and sitting down in the di'awing-room, went at great length into the merits of his cause, and exhibited his plans; and when he had ex- patiated for a couple of hours, he departed, but not without leaving a handsome fee, observing, that he had as much satisfaction as if he had seen the learned counsel himself. He once told a legal friend of the writer that his laird and he were nearly agreed now — there was only about ten miles of country contested betwixt them I When finally this great cause was adjusted, his agent said, ' Well, Laguine, what will ye do now?' rashly judging that one who had, in a manner, lived upon law for a series of j^ears, would be at a loss how to dispose of himself now. * No difficulty there,' answered Laguine ; ' I'll dispute your account, and go to law with youl^ Possessed as he was by a demon of liti- gation, Campbell is said to have been, apart from his dis- putes, a shrewd and sensible, and, moreover, an honourable THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 131 and worthy man. He was one of the first who introduced eheep-farming- into Ross-shire and Caithness, where he had farms as large as some whole Lowland or English counties ; and but for litigation, he had the opportunity of making much money. A person usually called, from his trade, the Heckler, was another Parliament House worthy. He used to work the whole night at his trade — then put on a black suit — curled his hair behind, and powdered it, so as to resemble a clergyman — and came forth to attend to the great busi- ness of the day at the Parliament House. He imagined that he was deputed by Divine Proridence as a sort of con- troller of the Court of Session ; but, as if that had not been sufficient, he thought the charge of the General Assembly was also committed to him ; and he used to complain that that venerable body was ' much worse to keep in good order' than the lawyers. He was a little, smart, well-brushed, neat- looking man, and used to talk to himself, smile, and nod with much vivacity. Part of his lunacy was to believe himself a clergyman ; and it was chiefly the Tiend Court which he haunted, his object there being to obtain an augmentation of his stipend. The appearance and conversation of the man were so plausible, that he once succeeded in imposing himself upon Dr Blair as a preacher, and obtained permission to hold forth in the High Church on the ensuing Sunday. He was fortunately recognised when about to mount the pulpit. Some idle boys about the Parliament House, where he was a constant attendant, persuaded him that, as he held two such dignified offices as his imagination shaped out, there must be some salary attached to them, payable, like others upon tlie Establishment, in the Exchequer. This very nearly brought about a serious catastrophe ; for the poor madman, finding his applications slighted at the Exchequer, came there one day with a pistol heavily loaded, to shoot Mr Baird, a very worthy man, an officer of that court. This occasioned the Heckler being confined in durance vile for a long time, though, I think, he was at length emanci- pated. Other insane fishers in the troubled waters of the law were the following : — Macduff of Ballenloan, who had two cases before the court at once. His success in the one depended upon his 132 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. showing' that he had capacity to manage his own affairs ; and in the other, upon his proving himself incapable of doing so. He used to complain, with some apparent reason^ that he lost them both ! Andrew Nicol, who was at law thirty years about a midden-stead — Anglice, the situation of a dunghill. This person was a native of Kinross, a sensible-looking country- man, with a large flat blue bonnet, in which guise Kay has a very good portrait of him, displaying, with chuckling pride, a plan of his precious midden-stead. He used to fre- quent the Register House, as well as the courts of law, and was encouraged in his foolish pursuits by the roguish clerks of that establishment, by whom he was denominated Much Andreiv, in allusion to the object of his litigation. This wretched being, after losing property and credit, and his own senses, in following a valueless phantom, died at last (1817) in Cupar jail, where he was placed by one of his legal creditors. CONVIVIALIA. Auld Reekie ! wale o' ilka toon That Scotland kens beneath the moon ; Where coothy chields at e'enin' meet. Their bizzin' craigs and mous to weet. And blithely gar auld care gae by, \Vi' blinkin' and wi' bleerin' eye. Robert FEROussorf. Tavern dissipation, now so rare amongst the respectable classes of the community, formerly prevailed in Edinburgh to an incredible extent, and engrossed the leisure hours of all professional men, scarcely excepting even the most stern and dignified. No rank, class, or profession, indeed, formed an exception to this rule. Nothing was so common in the morning as to meet men of high rank and official dignity reeling home from a close in the Pligh Street, where they had spent the night in drinking. Nor was it unusual to find two or three of his majesty's most honourable Lords of Council and Session mounting the bench in the forenoon in a crapulous state. A gentleman one night stepping into Johnnie Dowie's, opened a side door, and looking into the CONVIVIALIA. 133 room, saw a sort of agger or heap of snoring lads upon the floor, illumined by the gleams of an expiring candle. ' Wha may thae be, Mr Dowie?' inquired the visitor. 'Oh,' quoth John, in his usual quiet way, 'just twa-three o' Sir "Willie's drucken clerks ! ' — meaning the young gentlemen employed in Sir "William Forbes's banking-house, whom, of all earthly mortals, one would have expected to be observers of the decencies. To this testimony may be added that of all published works descriptive of Edinburgh during the last century. Even in the preceding century, if we are to believe Taylor the Water-poet, there was no superabundance of sobriety in the town. 'The worst thing,' says that sly humorist in his Journey (1623), 'was, that wine and ale were so scarce, and the people such misers of it, that every night, before I went to bed, if any man had asked me a civil question, all the wit in my head could not have made him a sober answer.' The diurnal of a Scottish judge of the beginning of the last century, which I have perused, presents a striking pic- ture of the habits of men of business in that age. Hardly a night passes without some expense being incurred at taverns, not always of very good fame, where his lordship's associates on the bench were his boon companions in the debauch. One is at a loss to understand how men who drugged their understandings so habitually, could possess any share of vital faculty for the consideration or transac- tion of business, or how they contrived to make a decent appearance in the hours of duty. But however difficult to be accounted for, there seems no room to doubt that deep drinking was compatible in many instances with good busi- ness talents, and even application. Many living men con- nected with the Court of Session can yet look back to a juvenile period of their lives, when some of the ablest advocates and most esteemed judges were noted for their convivial habits. For example, a famous counsel named Hay, who became a judge under the designation of Lord Newton, was equally remarkable as a Bacchanal and as a lawyer. He considered himself as only the better fitted for business, that he had previously imbibed six bottles of claret ; and one of his clerks afterwards de- <;lared that the best paper he ever knew his lordship dictate, 134 TBADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. was done after a debaucli where that amount of liquor had fallen to his share. It was of him that the famous story is told of a client calling for him one day at four o'clock, and being surprised to find him at dinner ; when, on the client saying to the servant that he had understood five to be Mr Hay's dinner hour, ' Oh but, sir,' said the man, ' it is his yesterday's dinner V M. Simond, who, in 1811, published a Tour in Scotland, mentions his surprise on stepping one morning into the Parliament House to find, in the dig- nified capacity of a judge, and displaying all the gravity suitable to the character, the very gentleman with whom he had spent most of the preceding night in a fierce debauch. This judge was Lord Newton. Contemporary with this learned lord was another of marvellous powers of drollery, of whom it is told, as a fact too notorious at the time to be concealed, that he was one Sunday morning, not long before church-time, found asleep among-st the paraphernalia of the sweeps, in a shed appro- priated to the keeping of these articles, at the end of the Town-Guard-house in the High Street. His lordship, in staggering homeward alone from a tavern during the night, had tumbled into this place, where consciousness did not revisit him till next day. Of another group of clever, but over-convivial lawyers of that age, it is related that, having set to wine and cards on a Saturday evening, they were so cheated out of all sense of time, that the night passed before they thought of separating. Unless they are greatly belied, the people passing along Picardy Place next forenoon, on their way to church, were perplexed by seeing a door open, and three gentlemen issue forth, in all the disorder to be expected after a night of drunken vigils, while a fourth, in his dressing-gown, held the door in one hand and a lighted candle in the other, by way of showing them out ! Wine and business seem to have inextricably mingled in those days. Blackstone, as we all know, wrote his Com- mentaries over port, and Sheridan his plays over sherry. There still lives (1847) a distinguished lawyer of the last century, and judge of the present, but now in retirement, who tells that, having one evening a hard case to master, he retired to his room, arranged his papers, and, by way of following an approved recipe of his day, caused a bottle of port, and another of sherry, to be placed for marginal re- CONVIVIALIA. 135 ference beside them. The case, contrary to his expectation, proved extremely interesting-, insomuch that he became wholly absorbed in it. Nevertheless, after a few hours had passed, he was sensible of a strang'e dimness of vision, as if something- had g-one wrong- with either his eyes, his spec- tacles, or the candles. Having- rubbed the iirst two, and topped the third, all without effect, he rose to take a walk through the room. After this, his lordship has no recollec- tion of anything which occurred, till he awoke a few hours thereafter on the floor, upon which, it would appear, he had tumbled. What concern the couple of half-empty bottles upon the table had had in binnging* about this strange syncope, must be left to the ingenious imagination of the reader. The High Jinks of Counsellor Pleydell, in Guy Mannering, must have prepared many for these cui'ious traits of a by- past age ; and Scott has further illustrated the subject by telling, in his notes to that novel, an anecdote which he appears to have had upon excellent authority, respecting the elder President Dundas of Arniston, father of Lord Melville. ' It had been thought very desirable, while that distinguished lawyer was king's counsel, that his assistance should be obtained in drawing up an appeal case, which, as occasion for such writings then rarely occurred, was held to be a matter of great nicety. The solicitor employed for the appellant, attended by my informant, acting as his clerk, went to the lord advocate's chambers in the Fishmarket Close, as I think. It was Saturday at noon, the court was just dismissed, the lord advocate had changed his dress and booted himself, and his servant and horses were at the foot of the close, to carry him to Arniston. It was scarcely possible to get him to listen to a word respecting business. The wily agent, however, on pretence of asking one or two questions, which would not detain him half an hour, drew his lordship, who was no less an eminent bon-vivant than a lawyer of unequalled talent, to take a whet at a celebrated tavern, when the learned counsel became gradually involved in a spirited discussion of the law points of the case. At length it occurred to him that he might as well ride to Arniston in the cool of the evening. The horses were directed to be put into the stable, but not to be unsaddled. Dinner was ordered, the law was laid aside for a time, and 136 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the bottle circulated very freely. At nine o'clock at night, after he had been honouring Bacchus for so many hours, the lord advocate ordered his horses to be unsaddled — paper, pen, and ink, were brought — he began to dictate the appeal case, and continued at his task till four o'clock the next morning. By next day's post the solicitor sent the case to London — a chef-d'oeuvre of its kind; and in which, my informant assured me, it was not necessary, on revisal, to correct five words.' It was not always that business and pleasure were so successfully united. It is related that an eminent lawyer, who was confined to his room by indisposition, having occasion for the attendance of his clerk at a late hour, in order to draw up a paper required on an emergency next morning, sent for and found him at his usual tavern. The man, though remarkable for the preservation of his faculties under severe application to the bottle, was on this night farther gone than usual. He was able, however, to proceed to his master's bedroom, and there take his seat at the desk with the appearance of a sufficiently collected mind, so that the learned counsel, imagining nothing more wrong than usual, began to dictate from his couch. This went on for two or three hours, till, the business being finished, the barrister di"ew his curtain — to behold Jamie lost in a pro- found sleep upon the table, with the paper still in virgin whiteness before him ! One of the most notable jolly fellows of the last age was James Balfour, an accountant, usually called Singing Jamie Balfour, on account of his fascinating qualities as a vocalist. There used to be a portrait of him in the Leith Golf-House, representing him in the act of commencing the favourite song of ' When I ha'e a saxpence under my thoom,' with the suitable attitude, and a merriness of countenance jus- tifying the traditionary account of the man. Of Jacobite leanings, he is said to have sung 'The wee German lair- die,' * Awa, Whigs, awa,' and ' The sow's tail to Geordie,' with a degree of zest which there was no resisting. Report speaks of this person as an amiable, upright, and able man ; so clever in business matters, that he could do as much in one hour as another man in three ; always eager to quench and arrest litigation, rather than to promote it ; and consequently so much esteemed professionally, that he CONVIVIALIA. 137 could get business whenever he chose to undertake it, which, however, he only did when he felt himself in need of money. Nature had given him a robust constitution, which enabled him to see out three sets of boon companions ; but, after all, gave way before he reached sixty. His custom, when anxious to repair the effects of intemperance, was to wash his head and hands in cold water ; this, it is said, made him quite cool and collected almost immediately. Pleasure being so predominant an object in his life, it was thought surprising that at his death he was found in possession of some little money. The powers of Balfour as a singer of the Scotch songs of all kinds, tender and humorous, are declared to have been marvellous ; and he had a happy gift of suiting them to occasions. Being a great peace-maker, he would often accomplish his purpose by introducing some ditty pat to the purpose, and thus dissolving all rancour in a hearty laugh. Like too many of our countrymen, he had a con- tempt for foreign music. One evening, in a company where an Italian vocalist of eminence was present, he professed to give a song in the manner of that country. Forth came a ridiculous cantata to the tune of Aiken Di'um, beginning, * There was a wife in Peebles,' which the wag executed with all the proper graces, shakes, and appogiaturas, mak- ing his friends almost expire with suppressed laughter at the contrast between the style of singing and the ideas conveyed in the song. At the conclusion, their mirth was doubled by the foreigner saying very simply, ' De music be very fine, but I no understand de words.' A lady, who lived in the Parliament Close, told a friend of mine that she was wakened from her sleep one summer morning by a noise as of singing, when, going to the window to learn what was the matter, guess her surprise at seeing* Jamie Balfour, and some of his boon companions (evidently fresh from their wonted orgies), singing The kiiifj shall enjoy his own again, on their knees, around King Charles's statue ! One of Balfour's favourite haunts was a humble kind of tavern called Jenny Ha's, opposite to Queensberry House, where, it is said, Gay had boused during his short stay in Edinburgh, and to which it was customary for gentlemen to adjourn from dinner parties, in order to indulge in claret from the butt, free from the usual domestic restraints. 138 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. Jamie's potations here were principally of what was called cappie ale — that is, ale in little wooden bowls — with wee thochts of brandy in it. But indeed no one could be less exclusive than he as to liquors. When he heard a bottle drawn in any house he happened to be in, and observed the cork to give an unusually smart report, he would call out, ' Lassie, gi'e me a glass o' that;' as knowing that, whatever it was, it must be good of its kind. Sir Walter Scott says, in one of his droll little missives to his printer Ballantyne, ' When the press does not follow me, I get on slowly and ill, and put myself in mind of Jamie Balfour, who could run, when he could not stand still.' He here alludes to a matter of fact, which the fol- lowing anecdote will illustrate : — Jamie, in going home late from a debauch, happened to tumble into the pit formed for the foundation of a house in James's Square. A gentleman passing heard his complaint, and going up to the spot, was intreated by our hero to help him out. * What would be the use of helping you out,' said the by-passer, * when you could not stand though you toere out ? ' ' Very true, perhaps ; yet if you help me up, I'll run you to the Tron Kirk for a bottle of claret.' Pleased with his humour, the gentleman placed him upon his feet, when instantly he set oiF for the Tron Church at a pace distancing all ordinary competition ; and accordingly he won the race, though, at the conclusion, he had to sit down on the steps of the church, being quite unable to stand. After taking a minute or two to recover his breath — ' Well, another race to Fortune's for another bottle of claret ! ' Off he went to the tavern in question, in the Stamp-Office Close, and this bet he gained also. The claret, probably with continuations, was dis- cussed in Fortune's ; and the end of the story is, that Balfour sent his new friend home in a chair, utterly done up, at an early hour in the morning. It is hardly surprising that habits carried to such an ex- travagance amongst gentlemen should have in some small degree affected the fairer and purer part of creation also. It is an old story in Edinburgh, that three ladies had one night a merry-meeting in a tavern near the Cross, where they sat till a very late hour. Ascending at length to the street, they scarcely remembered where they were ; but as it was good moonlight, they found little difficulty in walk- CONVIVIALIA. 13? mg along- till tliey came to the Tron Church. Here, how- ever, an obstacle occurred. The moon, shining hig-h in the south, threw the shadow of the steeple directly across the street from the one side to the other ; and the ladies, being' no more clear-sighted than they were clear-headed, mis- took this for a broad and rapid river, which they would re- quire to cross before making' further way. In this delusion, they sat down upon the brink of the imaginary stream, deliberately took off their shoes and stockings, kilted their lower garments, and proceeded to wade through to the opposite side ; after which, resuming their shoes and stockings, they went on their way rejoicing, as before! Another anecdote (from an aged nobleman) exhibits the Bacchanalian powers of our ancestresses in a different light. During the rising of 1715, the officers of the crown in Edinburgh, having procured some important intelligence respecting the motions and intentions of the Jacobites, resolved upon despatching the same to London by a faith- ful courier. Of this the party whose interests would have been so materially affected got notice ; and that evening, as the messenger (a man of rank) was going down the High Street, with the intention of mounting his horse in the Canongate, and immediately setting off, he met two tall handsome ladies, in full dress, and wearing black velvet masks, who accosted him with a very easy demeanour, and a winning sweetness of voice. Without hesitating as to the quality of these damsels, he instantly proposed to treat them with a pint of claret at a neighbouring tavern ; but they said that, instead of accepting his kindness, they were quite willing to treat him, to his heart's content. They then adjourned to the tavern, and sitting down, the whole three drank plenteously, merrily, and long, so that the courier seemed at last to forget entirely the mission upon which he was sent, and the danger of the papers which he had about his person. After a pertinacious debauch of several hours, the luckless messenger was at length fairly drunk under the table ; and it is needless to add, that the fair nymphs then proceeded to strip him of his papers, decamped, and were no more heard of; though it is but justice to the Scottish ladies of that period to say, that the robbers were generally believed at the time to be young men disguised in women's clothes.* * It was very common for Scotch ladies of rank, even till the middle of the 140 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. The custom whicli prevailed among' ladies, as well as gentlemen, of resorting to what were called oyster-cellars^ is in itself a striking indication of the state of manners during the last century. In winter, when the evening had set in, a party of the most fashionable people in town, col- lected by appointment, would adjourn in carriages to one of those abysses of darkness and comfort, called, in Edinburgh, laigh shops, where they proceeded to regale themselves with raw oysters and porter, arranged in huge dishes upon a coarse table, in a dingy room, lighted by tallow candles. The rudeness of the feast, and the vulgarity of the circum- stances under which it took place, seem to have given a zest to its enjoyment, with which more refined banquets could not have been accompanied. One of the chief features of au oyster-cellar entertainment was, that full scope was given to the conversational powers of the company. Both ladies and gentlemen indulged, without restraint, in sallies the merriest and the wittiest; and a thousand remarks and jokes, which elsewhere would have been suppressed as improper, were here sanctified by the oddity of the scene, and appreciated by the most dignified and refined. After the table was cleared of the oysters and porter, it was customary to introduce brandy or rum-punch — according to the pleasure of the ladies — after which dancing took place ; and when the female part of the assemblage thought proper to retire, the gentlemen again sat down, or adjourned to another tavern, to crown the pleasures of the evening with an unlimited debauch. It is not (1824) more than thirty years since the late Lord Melville, the Duchess of Gordon, and some other persons of distinction, who happened to meet in town after many years of absence, made up an oyster-cellar party, by way of a frolic, and devoted one winter evening to the revival of this almost forgotten entertainment of their youth.* last century, to wear black masks in walking abroad, or airing in a carriage ; and for some gentlemen too, who were vain of their complexion. They were kept close to the face by means of a string, having a button of glass or precious fitone at the end, which the lady held in her mouth. This practice, I under- stand, did not in the least interrupt the flow of tittle-tattle and scandal among the fair wearers. We are told, in a curious paper in the Edinburgh Magazine for August 1817, that at the period above-mentioned, ' though it was a disgrace for ladies to be seen drunk, yet it was none to be a little intoxicated in good company.' * The principal oyster-parties, in old times, took place in Luckie Middle- CONVIVIALIA. 141 It seems difficult to reconcile all these thing's with the staid and somewhat square-toed character which our countiy has obtained amongst her neighbours. The fact seems to be, that a kind of Laodicean principle is observ- able in Scotland, and we oscillate between a rigour of manners on the one hand, and a laxity on the other, which alternately acquire an apparent paramouncy. In the early part of the last century, rigour was in the ascendant ; but not to the prevention of a respectable minority of the free- and-easy, who kept alive the flame of conviviality with no small degree of success. In the latter half of the century — a dissolute era all over civilised Europe — the minority became the majority, and the characteristic sobriety of the nation's manners was only traceable in certain portions of society. Now we are in a sober, perhaps tending to a rigorous stage once more. In Edinburgh, seventy years ago, intemperance was the rule to such a degree, that ex- ception could hardly be said to exist. Men appeared little in the drawing-room in those days ; when they did, not un- frequently their company had better have been dispensed with. When a gentleman gave an entertainment, it was thought necessary that he should press the bottle as far as it coulti be made to go. A particularly good fellow would lock his outer-door, to prevent any guest of dyspeptic ten- dencies or sober inclinations from escaping. Some were so considerate as to provide shake-down beds for a general bivouac in a neighbouring apartment. When gentlemen were obliged to appear at assemblies where decency was enforced, they of course wore their best attire. This it was customary to change for something less liable to receive damage, ere going, as they usually did, to conclude the mass's tavern in the Cowgate (where the south pier of the bridge now stands) , which was the resort of Fergusson and his fellow-wits — as witness his own verse : ' 'WTien big as bums the gutters rin, If ye hae catched a droukit skin, To Luckic Middlemist's loup in, And sit fu' snug, Owre oysters and a dram o' gin. Or haddock lug." At these fashionable parties, the ladies would sometimes have the oj'ster- women to dance in the ball-room, though they were known to be of the worst character. This went under the convenient name of/rolic. 142 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. evening- by a scene of conviviality. Drinking- entered into everything. As Sir Alexander Boswell has observed — ' O'er draughts of wine the beau would moan his love. O'er draughts of wine the cit his bargain drove, O'er draughts of wine the writer penned the will, And legal wisdom counselled o'er a gill.' Then was the time when men, despising- and neglecting- the company of women, always so civilising in its influence, would yet half kill themselves with bumpers, in order, as the phrase went, to save them. Drinking to save the ladies is said to have originated with a catch-club, which issued tickets for gratuitous concerts. Many tickets with the names of ladies being prepared, one was taken up, and the name announced. Any member present was at liberty to toast the health of this lady in a bumper, and this insured her ticket being reserved for her use. If no one came for- ward to honour her name in this manner, the lady was said to be damned, and her ticket was thrown under the table. Whether from this origin or not, the practice is said to have ultimately had the following form. One gentleman would give out the name of some lady as the most beautiful object in creation, and, by way of attesting what he said, drink one bumper. Another champion would then enter the field, and oifer to prove that a certain other lady, whom he named, was a great deal more beautiful than she just men- tioned — supporting his assertion by drinking two bumpers. Then the other would rise up, declare this to be false, and, in proof of his original statement, as well as by way of turning the scale upon his opponent, drink four bumpers. Not deterred or repressed by this, the second man would reiterate, and conclude by drinking as much as the chal- lenger ; who would again start up and di'ink eight bumpers ; and so on, in geometrical progression, till one or other of the heroes fell under the table ; when of course the fair Delia of the survivor was declared the queen supreme of beauty by all present. I have seen a sonnet addressed on the morn- ing after such a scene of contention to the lady concerned, by the unsuccessful hero, whose brains appear to have been wofully muddled by the claret he had drunk in her behalf. It was not merely in the evenings that taverns were then re- sorted to. There was a petty treat, called a ' meridian,' which no man of that day thought himself able to dispense with ; CONTIVIALIA. 143 and this was generally indulged in at a tavern. ' A cauld cock and a feather ' was the metaphorical mode of calling for a glass of brandy and a bunch of raisins, which was the favourite regale of manj^. Others took a glass of whisky ; some few a lunch. Scott very amusingly describes, from his own observation, the manner in which the affair of the meridian was gone about by the writers and clerks belong- ing to the Parliament House. ' If their proceedings were watched, they might be seen to turn fidgetty about the hour of noon, and exchange looks with each other from their separate desks, till at length some one of formal and dignified presence assumed the honour of leading the band ; when away they went, threading the crowd like a string of wild-fowl, crossed the square or close, and following each other into the [John's] coffee-house, drank the meridian, which was placed ready at the bar. This they did day by day ; and though they did not speak to each other, they seemed to attach a certain degree of sociability to perform- ing the ceremony in company.' It was in the evening, of course, that the tavern de- baucheries assumed their proper character of unpalliated fierceness and destructive duration. In the words of Robert Fergusson — ■ ' Now night, that's cunzied chief for fun, Is with her usual rites begun. Some to porter, some to punch. Retire ; while noisy ten-hours' drum Gars a" the trades gang danderin' hame. Now, mony a club, jocose and free, Gi'e a' to merriment and glee ; Wi' sang and glass they fley the power O' care, that wad harass the hour. * * * * Chief, oh Cape ! we crave thy aid. To get our cares and poortith laid. Sincerity and genius true, O' knights have ever been the due. Mirth, music, porter deepest-dyed. Are never here to worth denied.' All the shops in the town were then shut at eight o'clock ; and from that hour till ten — when the drum of the Town- Guard announced at once a sort of license for the deluging of the streets with nuisances, and a warning of the inhabi- tants home to their beds — unrestrained scope was given to 144 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the delig-hts of the table. No tradesman thought of going home to his family till after he had spent an hour or two at his club. This was universal and unfailing. So lately as 1824, I knew something of an old-fashioned tradesman who nightly shut his shop at eight o'clock, and then adjourned with two old friends who called upon him at that hour to a quiet old public-house on the opposite side of the way, where they each drank precisely one bottle of Edinburgh ale, ate precisely one halfpenny roll, and got upon their legs precisely at the first stroke of ten o'clock. The Cape Club alluded to by Fergusson aspired to a refined and classical character, comprising amongst its numerous members many men of talents, as well as of private worth. Fergusson himself was a member ; as were Mr Thomas Sommers, his friend and biographer ; Mr Woods, a player of eminence on the humble boards of Edinburgh, and an intimate companion of the poet; and Mr Kunciman the painter. The name of the club had its foundation in one of those weak jokes such as ' gentle dul- ness ever loves.' A person who lived in the Calton was in the custom of spending an hour or two every evening with one or two city friends, and being sometimes detained till after the regular period when the Netherbow Port was shut, it occasionally happened that he had either to remain in the city all night, or was under the necessity of bribing the porter who attended the gate. This difficult j)(^ss — partly on account of the rectangular corner which he turned, im- mediately on getting out of the Port, as he went homewards down Leith Wynd — the Calton burgher facetiously called doubling the Cape ; and as it was customary with his friends, every evening when they assembled, to inquire ' how he turned the Cape last night,' and indeed to make that circumstance and that phrase, night after night, the subject of their conversation and amusement, 'the Cape,* in time, became so assimilated with their very existence, that they adopted it as a title ; and it was retained as such by the organised club into which, shortly after, they thought proper to form themselves. The Cape Club owned a regular institution from 17G3. It will scarcely be credited in the present day that a jest of the above nature could keep an assemblage of rational citizens, and, we may add, professed wits, merry after a thousand repetitions. Yet it really is CONVIVIALIA. 145 true that the patron-jests of many a numerous and en- lig-htened association were no better than this, and the greater part of them worse. As instance the following' : — There was the Antemanum Club, of which the mem- bers used to boast of the state of their hands, hefore-hand, in playing at ' Brag.' The members were all men of re- spectability, some of them gentlemen of fortune. They met every Saturday, and dined. It was at first a purely con- vivial club ; but latterly, the Whig party gaining a sort of preponderance, it degenerated into a political association. The Pious Club was composed of decent orderly citizens, who met every night, Sundays not excepted, in a pie-kotise, and whose joke was the equivoque of these expressions — similar in sound, but different in signification. The agree- able uncertainty as to whether their name arose from their piety, or the circumstance of their eating pies, kept the club hearty for many years. At their Sunday meetings, the conversation usually took a serious turn — perhaps upon the sermons which they had respectively heard during the day : this they considered as rendering their title of Pious not altogether undeserved. Moreover, they were all, as the saying was, ten-o'clock men, and of good character. Fifteen persons wei'e considered as constituting a full night. The whole allowable debauch was a gill of toddy to each person, which was drunk, like wine, out of a common decanter. One of the members of the Pious Club was a Mr Lind, a man of at least twenty-five stone weight, immoderately fond of good eating and drinking. It was generally believed of him that, were all the oxen he had devoured ranged in a line, they would reach from the Water Gate to the Castle Hill, and that the wine he had drunk would swim a seventy-foui*. His most favourite viand was a very strange one — salmon skins. When dining anywhere, with salmon on the table, he made no scruple of raking all the skins oiF the plates of the rest of the guests. He had only one toast, fi'om which he never varied — * Merry days to honest fellows.' A Mr Drummoud was esteemed poet-laureate to this club. He was a facetious, clever man. Of his poetical talents, take a specimen in the following lines on Lind : — ' In going to dinner, he ne'er lost his way, Though often, when done, he was carted away." He made the following impromptu on an associate of small VOL. VI. J 146 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. figure, and equally small understanding-, who had been successful in the world : — ' Oh thou of genius slow, Weak by nature ; A rich fellow. But a poor creature.' The Spendthrift Club took its name from the extra- vagance of the members in spending no less a sum than fourpence-halfpenny each night ! It consisted of respect- able citizens of the middle class, and continued in 1824 to exist in a modified state. Its meetings, originally nightly, were then reduced to four a-week. The men used to play at whist for a halfpenny — one, two, three — no rubbers ; but latterly, they had, with their characteristic extravagance, doubled the stake ! Supper originally cost no less than twopence ; and half a bottle of strong ale, with a dram, stood every member twopence - half[3enny ; to all which sumptuous profusion, might be added still another half- penny, which was given to the maid-servant — in all, five- pence ! Latterly, the dram had been disused ; but such had been the general increase, either in the cost or the quantity of the indulgences, that the usual nightly expense was ultimately from a shilling to one-and-fourpence. The winnings at whist were always thrown into the reckoning. A large two-quart bottle, or tappit-hen, was introduced by the landlady, with a small measure, out of which the company helped themselves ; and the members made up their own bill with chalk upon the table. In 1824, in the recollection of the senior members, some of whom were of fifty years' standing, the house was kept by the widow of a Lieutenant Hamilton of the army, who recollected having attended the theatre in the Tennis Court at Holyroodhouse, when the play was the Sjumish Friar, and when many of the members of the Union Parliament were present in the house. The Boar Ct,ub was an association of a different sort, consisting chiefly of wild, fashionable young men ; and the place of meeting was not in any of the snug profundi- ties of the old town, but in a modei'n tavern in Shakspeare Square, kept by one Daniel Hogg. The joke of this club consisted in the supposition that all the members were boars — that their room was a sti/ — that their talk was CONVIVIALIA. 147 grunting — and in the double entendre of the small piece of stoneware which served as a repository of all the fines, being' a pig. Upon this they lived twenty years. I have, at some expense of eyesight, and with no small exertion of patience, perused the soiled and blotted records of the club, which in 1824 were preserved by an old vint- ner, whose house was their last place of meeting ; and the result has been the following memorabilia. The Boar Club commenced its meetings in 1787, and the original members were J. G. C. Schetky, a German musician ; David Shaw ; Archibald Crawfuird ; Patrick Robertson ; Robert Aldridge, a famed pantomimist and dancing'-master ; James Neilson ; and Luke Cross. Some of these were re- markable men, in particular Mr Schetky. He had come to Edinburgh about the beg-inning of the reign of George III. He used to tell that, on alighting at Ramsay's Inn, opposite the Cowgate Port, his first impression of the city was so unfavourable, that he was on the point of leaving it again, without further acquaintance, and was only pre- vented from doing so by the solicitations of his fellow- traveller, who was not so much alarmed at the dingy and squalid appearance of this part of Auld Reekie.* He was first employed at St Cecilia's Hall, where the concerts were attended by all the ' rank, beauty, and fashion ' of which Edinburgh could then boast, and where, besides the professional performers, many amateurs of great musical skill and enthusiasm, such as Mr Tytler of Woodhouse- lee,t were pleased to exhibit themselves, for the entertain- * This highly appropriate popular sobriquet cannot be traced beyond the reign of Charles II. Tradition assigns the following as the origin of the phrase: — An old gentleman in Fife, designated Durham of Largo, was in the habit, at the period mentioned, of rosulating the time of evening worship by the appearance of the smoke of Edinburgh, which he could easily see, through the clear summer twilight, from his own door. When he observed the smoke increase in density, in consequence of the good folk of the city preparing their supper, he would call all the family into the house, saying, ' It's time now, bairns, to tak the beuks, and gang to our beds, for yonder's Auld Reekie, I see, putting on her nicht-cap! ' t This gentleman, the 'revered defender of beauteous Stuart,' and the surviving friend of Allan Ramsay, had an unaccountable aversion to cheese, and not only forbade the appearance of that article upon his table, but also its introduction into his house. His family, who did not partake in this anti- pathy, sometimes smuggled a small quantity of cheese into the house, and ate it in secret ; but he almost always discovered it by the smell, which was the sense it chiefly offended. Upon scenting the object of his disgust, he would start up and run distractedly through the house in search of it, and 148 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. ment of their friends, who alone were admitted by tickets. Mr Schetky composed the march of a body of volunteers called the Edinburgh Defensive Band, which was raised out of the citizens of Edinburgh at the time of the American war, and was commanded by the eminent advocate, Crosbie. One of the verses to which the march was set, may be given as an admirable specimen of militia poetry : — • Colonel Crosbie takes the field ; To France and Spain he will not yield ; But still maintains his high command At the head of the noble Defensive Band.'* Mr Schetky was primarily concerned in the founding- of the Boar Club. He was in the habit of meeting every night with Mr Aldridge, and one or two other professional men, or gentlemen who affected the society of such persons, in Hogg's tavern ; and it was the host's name that suggested the idea of calling their society the ' Boa7' Club.' Their laws were first written down in proper form in 1790. They were to meet every evening at seven o'clock ; each hoar, on his entry, to contribute a halfpenny to the pir/. Mr Ald- ridge was to be perpetual Grand-Boar, with Mr Schetky for his deputy; and there were other officers, entitled Secre- tary, Treasurer, and Procurator- Fiscal. A fine of one half- penny was imposed upon every person who called one of his brother boars by his pi-oper out-of-club name — the term 'sir' being only allowed. The entry-moneys, fines, and other pecuniary acquisitions, were hoarded for a grand an- not compose himself again to his studies till it was thrown out of doors. Some of his ingenious children, by way of a joke, once got into their posses- sion the coat with which he usually went to the court, and ripping up the sutures of one of its wide old-fashioned skirts, sewed up therein a considerable slice of double Gloster. Mr Tytler was next day surprised when, sitting near the bar, he perceived the smell of the cheese rising around him. ' Cheese here too ! ' cried the querulous old gentleman ; ' nay, then, the whole world must be conspiring against me ! ' So saying, he rose, and ran home, to tell his piteous case to Mrs Tytler and the children, who became convinced from this that he really possessed the singular delicacy and fastidiousness in re- spect of the efiSuvia arising from cheese which they formerly thought to be fanciful. * The dress of the Edinburgh Defensive Band was as follows : — A cocked hat, black stock, hair tied, and highly powdered ; dark -blue long-tailed coat, •with orange facings in honour of the Revolution, and full lapels sloped away to show the white dimity vest ; nankeen small clothes ; white thread stockings, ribbed or plain ; and short nankeen spatterdashes. Kay has some ingenious caricatures, in miniature, of these redoubted Bruntsfield Links and Heriot's Green warriors. The two last survivors were Mr John M'Niven, stationer, and Robert Stevenson, painter, who died in 1832. CONVIVIALIA. 149 nual dinner. The laws were revised in 1799, when some new officials were constituted, such as Poet-laureate, Cham- pion, Archbishop, and Chief-Grunter. The fines were then rendered exceeding-ly severe, and in their exaction no one met with any mercy, as it was the interest of all the rest that the pig should bring- forth as plenteous a farrow as possible at the g-rand dinner-day. This practice at leng-th occasioning a violent insurrection in the sty, the whole fra- ternity was broken up, and never again returned to ' wallow in the mire.' The Hell-fire Club, a terrible and infamous associa- tion of wild young men, about the beginning of the last century, met in various profound places throughout Edin- burgh, where they practised orgies not more fit for seeing the light than the Eleusinian Mysteries. I have conversed with old people who had seen the last worn-out members of the Hell-fire Club, which, in the country, is to this day believed to have been an association in compact with the Prince of Darkness. The Sweating Club flourished about the middle of the last century. They resembled the Mohocks mentioned in the Spectator. After intoxicating themselves, it was their custom to sally forth at midnight, and attack whomsoever they met upon the streets. Any luckless wight who hap- pened to fall into their hands was chased, jostled, pinched, and pulled about, till he not only perspii-ed, but was ready to drop down and die with exhaustion. Even so late as the early years of this century, it was unsafe to walk the streets of Edinburgh at night, on account of the numerous drunken parties of young men who then reeled about, bent on mis- chief, at all hours, and from whom the Town-Guard were unable to protect the sober citizen. A club called the Industrious Company may serve to show how far the system of drinking was carried by our fathers. It was a sort of joint-stock company, formed by a numerous set of porter-drinkers, who thought fit to club towards the formation of a stock of that liquor, which they might partly profit by retailing, and partly by the oppor- tunity thus afforded them of drinking their own particular tipple at the wholesale price. Their cellars were in the Royal Bank Close, where they met every night at eight o'clock. Each member paid at his entry £5, and took his 150 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. turn monthly of the duty of superintending the general business of tlie company. But the curse of joint-stock com- panies — negligence on the part of the managers — ultimately occasioned the ruin of the Industrious Company. A club of first-rate citizens used to meet, sixty years ago, each Saturday afternoon, for a country dinner, in a tavern which still exists in the village of Canonmills, a place now involved within the limits of the New Town. To quote a brief memoir on the subject, handed to me many years ago by a veteran friend, who was a good deal of the laudator temporis acti — ' The club was pointedly attended : it was too good a thing to miss being present at. They kept their own claret, and managed all matters as to living perfectly well.' Orig'inally, the fraternity were contented with a very humble room ; but in time they got an addition built to the house for their accommodation, comprehending one good-sized room with two windows ; in one of which is a pane containing an olive-dove, in the other, one contain- ing a wheat-sheaf, both engraved with a diamond. ' This/ continues Mr Johnston, ' was the doing of William Ramsay [banker], then residing at Warriston — the tongue of the trump to the club. Here he took great delight to drink claret on the Saturdays, though he had such a paradise near at hand to retire to ; but then there were Jamie Torry, Jamie Dickson, Gilbert Laurie, and other good old council friends Math whom to crack [that is, chat] ; and the said cracks were of more value in this dark, unseemly place, than the enjoyments of home. I never pass these two en- graved panes of glass but I venerate them, and wonder that, in the course of fifty years, they have not been destroyed, either from drunkenness within, or from misrule without.'* Edinburgh boasted of many other associations of the like nature, which it were perhaps best merely to enumerate, in a tabular form, with the appropriate joke opposite each, as — The DiUTY Club, . . No gentleman to appear in clean linen. The Black AVigs, . Members wore black wigs. The Odd Fellows, . . Members wrote their names upside do^vIl. The Bonnet Lairds, . Members wore blue bonnets. ( Members regarded as physicians, and so The Doctors of Faculty Club,/ styled ; wearing, moreover, gowns and (. wigs. And so forth. There were the Caledonian Club, and the * One of the panes is now (1847) destroyed, the other cracked. CONVIVIALIA. 151 Union Club, of whose foundation history speaketh not. There was the Wig Club, the president of which wore a wig; of extraordinary materials, which had belonged to the Moray family for three generations, and each new entrant of which drank to the fraternity in a quart of claret with- out pulling bit. The Wigs usually drank twopenny ale, on which it was possible to get satisfactorily drunk for a groat ; and with this they ate souters' clods,* a coarse lumpish kind of loaf. There was also the Brownonian System Club, which, oddly enough, bore no reference to the license which that system had given for a phlogistic regimen — for it was a douce citizenly fraternity, venerating ten o'clock as a sacred principle — but in honour of the founder of that system, who had been a constituent member. The Lawnmabket Club was composed chiefly of the woollen-tradei's of that street, a set of whom met every morning about seven o'clock, and walked down to the Post- ofEce, where they made themselves acquainted with the news of the morning. After a plentiful discussion of the news, they adjourned to a public-house, and got a dram of brandy. As a sort of ironical and self-inflicted satire upon the strength of their potations, they sometimes called them- selves the Whey Club. They were always the first persons in the town to have a thorough knowledg-e of the foreign news; and on Wednesday mornings, when there was no post from London, it was their wont to meet as usual, and, in the absence of real news, amuse themselves by the in- vention of what was imaginary ; and this they made it their business to circulate among their uninitiated acquaintances in the course of the forenoon. Any such unfounded articles of intelligence, on being suspected or discovered, were usually called Latonmarket Gazettes, in allusion to their roguish originators. In the year 1705, when the Duke of Argyll was com- missioner in the Scottish parliament, a singular kind of fashionable club, or coterie of ladies and gentlemen, was * Souters' clods, and other forms of bread fascinating to youngsters, as well as penny pies of high ri-putation, were to be had at a shop which all old Edinburgh people speak of with extreme regard and affection— the Baijcn //oZc— situated immediately to the east of Forrester's Wynd, and opposite to the Old Tolbooth. The name— a mystery to later generations — seems to bear reference to the Baijens or Baijen Class, a term bestowed in former days upon the junior students in the college. 152 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. instituted, chiefly by the exertions of the Earl of Selkirk, who was the distinguished beau of that age. This was called the Horn Order, a name which, as usual, had its origin in the whim of a moment. A horn-spoon having been used at some merry meeting, it occurred to the club, which was then in embryo, that this homely implement would be a good badge for the projected society ; and this being proposed, it was instantly agreed, by all the party, that the ' order of the horn ' would be a good caricature of the more ancient and better-sanctioned honorary dignities. The phrase was adopted; and the members of the Horn Order met and caa-oused for many a day under this strange designation, which, however, the common people believed to mean more than met the ear. Indeed, if all accounts of it be true, it must have been a species of masquerade, in which the sexes were mixed, and all ranks confounded. TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES. When the worship of Bacchus held such sway in our city, his peculiar temples — the taverns — must, one would suppose, have been places of some importance. And so they were, comparatively speaking ; and yet, absolutely, an Edinburgh tavern of the last century was no very tine or inviting place. Usually, these receptacles were situated in obscure places — in courts or closes, away from the public thoroughfares ; and often they presented such narrow and stifling accommoda- tions, as mig'ht have been expected to repel, rather than attract visitors. The truth was, however, that a coarse and dark- some snugness was courted by the worshippers. Large, well-lighted rooms, with a look-out to a street, would not have suited them. But allow them to dive through some Erebean alley, into a cavern-like house, and there settle themselves in a cell unvisited of Phoebus, with some dingy flamen of either sex to act as minister, and their views as to circumstances and properties were fulfilled. Then was theirs a ' glad content.' The-city traditions do not go far back into the eighteenth century with respect to taverns ; but we obtain some notion of the principal houses in Queen Anne's time, from the Latin TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES. 153 lyrics of Dr Pitcairn, which Ruddiman published, in order to prove that the Italian muse had not become extinct in our land since the days of Buchanan. In an address To Strangers, the wit tells those who would acquire some notion of our national manners, to avoid the triple church of St Giles's— ' Tres ubi Cj'clopes fanda nefanda boant ' — where three horrible monsters bellow forth sacred and pro- fane discourse, and seek the requisite knowledge in the sanctuaries of the rosy g-od, whose worship is conducted by night and by day. ' At one time,' says he, ' you may be delighted with the bowls of Steil of the Cross Keys ; then other heroes, at the Ship, will show you the huge cups which belonged to mighty bibbers of yore. Or you may seek out the sweet-spoken Katy at Buchancui's, or Tcnnant^s com- modious house, where scalloped oysters will be brought in with your wine. But Hay calls us, than whom no woman of milder disposition or better-stored cellar can be named in the whole town. Now, it will gratify you to make your way into the Avernian grottos, and caves never seen of the sun ; but remember to make friends with the dog which guards the threshold. Straightway Mistress Anne will bring the native liquor. Seek the innermost rooms and the snug seats : these know the sun, at least, when Anne enters. What souls joying in the Letbcean flood you may there see! what frolics, God willing, you may partake of! Mindless of all that goes on in the outer world, joys not to be told to mortal do they there imbibe. But perhaps you may wish by and by to get back into the world — which is indeed no easy matter. I recommend you, when about to descend, to take with you a trusty Achates [a cawdy] : say to Anne, Be sure you give him no drink. By such means it was that Castor and Pollux were able to issue forth from Pluto's domain into the heavenly spaces. Here you may be both merry and wise ; but beware how you toast kings and their French retreats,' &c. The sites of these merry places of yore are not handed down to us ; but respecting another, which Pitcairn shadows forth under the mysterious appella- tion of Greppa, it chances that we possess some knowledge. It was a suite of dark underground apartments in the Parliament Close, opening by a descending stair opposite 154 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the oriel of St Giles's, in a mass of building- called the Pillars. By the wits who frequented it, it was called the Grepiiiff-Ojffice, because one could only make way through its dark passag'es by groping-. It is curious to see how Pitcairn works this homely Scottish idea into his Sapphics, talking, for example, by way of a good case of bane and antidote, of ' Fraudes Egidii, venena Greppae.' A venerable person has given me an anecdote of this singular mixture of learning, wit, and professional skill, in connection with the Greping'-OfEce. Here, it seems, accord- ing* to a custom which lasted even in London till a later day, the clever physician used to receive visits from his patients. On one occasion, a woman from the country called to consult him resjjecting the health of her daughter, when he gave a shrewd hygienic advice in a pithy meta- phor not to be mentioned to ears polite. When, in con- sequence of following the prescription, the young woman had recovered her health, the mother came back to the Greping-Office to thank Dr Pitcairn, and give him a small present. Seeing him in precisely the same place and cir- cumstances, and surrounded by the same companions as on the former occasion, she lingered with an expression of surprise. On interrogation, she said she had only one thing to speer at him [ask after], and she hoped he would not be angry. ' Oh no, my good woman.' ' Well, sir, have you been sitting' here ever since I saw you last?' According to the same authority, small claret was then sold at twenty-pence the Scottish pint, equivalent to ten- pence a bottle. Pitcairn once or twice sent his servant for a regale of this liquor on the Sunday forenoon, and suifered the disappointment of having it intercepted by the seizors, whose duty it was to make capture of all persons found abroad in time of service, and appropriate whatever they were engaged in carrying that smelt of the common enjoy- ments of life. To secure his claret for the future from this interference, the wit caused the wine on one occasion to be drugged in such a manner as to produce consequences more ludicrous than dangerous to those drinking it. The triumph he thus attained over a power which there was no reaching by any appeal to common sense or justice, must have been deeply relished in the Greping-Office. TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES. 155 Pitcairn was professedly an Episcopalian, but lie allowed himself a latitude in wit which his contemporaries found some difficulty in reconciling with any form of relig-ion. Among" the popular charges against him was, that he did not believe in the existence of such a place as hell ; a point of heterodoxy likely to be sadly disrelished in Scotland. Being at a book-sale, where a copy of Philostratus sold at a good pi'ice, and a copy of the Bible was not bidden for, Pitcairn said to some one who remarked the circumstance, * Not at all wonderful ; for is it not written, " Verbum Dei manet in eternuyn?"' For this, one of the Cyclopes, a famous Mr Webster, called him publicly an atheist. The story goes on to state that Pitcairn prosecuted Webster for defamation in consequence, but failed in the action from the following circumstance : — The defender, much puzzled what to do in the case, consulted a shrewd-witted friend of his, a Mr Pettigrew, minister of Govan, near Glasgow. Pettigrew came to Edinburgh to endeavour to get him out of the scrape. ' Strange,' he said, ' since he has caught so much at your mouth, if we can catch nothing at his.' Having laid his plan, he came bustling up to the physician at the Cross, and tapping- him on the shoulder, said, ' Are you Dr Pitcairn the atheist ? ' The doctor, in his haste, overlooking the latter part of the query, answered, ' Yes.' ' Very good,' said Pettigrew ; ' I take jou all to witness that he has confessed it himself.' Pitcairn, seeing how he had been outwitted, said bitterly to the minister of Govan, whom he well knew, ' Oh, Pettigrew, that skull of yours is as deep as hell.' ' Oh, man,' replied Petti- grew, ' I'm glad to find you have come to believe there is a hell.' The prosecutor's counsel, who stood by at the time, recommended a compromise, which accordingly took place. A son of Pitcairn was minister of Dysart ; a very good kind of man, who was sometimes consulted in a medical way by his parishioners. He seems to have had a little of the paternal humour, if we may judge from the following circumstance : — A lady came to ask what her maid-servant should do for sore or tender eyes. The minister, seeing that no active treatment could be recommended, said, ' She must do naething wi' them, but just rub them wi' her elbucks (elbows).' 156 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Allan Ramsay mentions, of Edinburgh taverns in his day, ' Cumin's, Don's, and Steil's,' as places where one may be as well served as at * the Devil' in London. ' 'Tis strange, though true, he who would shun all evil, Cannot do better than go to the Devil.' John Maclaurin. One is disposed to pause a moment on Steil's name, as it is honourably connected with the history of music in Scotland. Being a zealous lover of the divine science, and a good singer of the native melodies, he had rendered his house a favourite resort of all who possessed a similar taste, and here actually was formed (1728) the first regular society of amateur musicians known in our country. It numbered seventy persons, and met once a week, the usual entertainments consisting in playing on the harpsichord and violin the concertos and sonatas of Handel, then newly pub- lished. Apparently, however, this fraternity did not long continue to use Steil's house, if I am right in supposing his retirement from business as announced in an advertisement of February 1729, regarding ' A sale by auction, of the haill pictures, prints, music-books, and musical-instruments, be- longing to Mr John SteilL' — {Caledonian Mercury.) Coming down to a later time — 1760-1770 — we find the tavern in highest vogue to have been Fortune's, in the house which the Earl of Eglintoune had once occupied in the Stamp-Office Close. The gay men of rank, the scholarly and philosophical, the common citizens, all flocked hither ; and the royal commissioner for the General Assembly held his levees here, and hence proceeded to church with his cor- tege, then additionally splendid from having ladies walking in it in their coui't dresses, as well as gentlemen. Perhaps the most remarkable set of men who met here was the Poker Club, consisting of Hume, Robertson, Blair, Fer- gusson, and many others of that brilliant galaxy, but whose potations were, comparatively, of a moderate kind. The Star and Garter, in Writers' Court, kept by one Clerihugh (the Clerilmgli's alluded to in Guy Mannering), was another tavern of good consideration, the favourite haunt of the magistrates and Town-Council, who in those TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES. 167 days mixed much more of private enjoyments with public duties than would now be considered fitting". Here the Rev. Dr Webster used to meet them at dinner, in order to give them the benefit of his extensive knowledge and great powers of calculation, when they were scheming out the New Town, A favourite house for many of the last years of the by- gone century was Douglases, in the Anchor Close, near the Cross, a good specimen of those profound retreats which have been spoken of as valued in the inverse ratio of the amount of daylight which visited them. You went a few yards down the dark, narrow alley, passing on the left hand the entry to a scale stair, decorated with 'The Lord be my Suport;' then passed another door, bearing the still more antique legend, ' Lord, in the is al my traist ;' im- mediately beyond, under an architrave calling out ' Be MERCiFULL TO ME,' you entered the hospitable mansion of Dawney Douglas, the scene of the daily and nightly orgies of the Pleydells and Fairfords, the Hays, Erskines, and Crosbies, of the time of our fathers. Alas ! how fallen off is now that temple of Momus and the Bacchanals! You find it divided into a multitude of small lodgings, where, instead of the merry party, vociferous with toasts and catches, you are most likely to be struck by the spectacle of some poor lone female, pining under a parochial allowance, or a poverty-struck family group, one-half of whom are disposed on sickbeds of straw mingled with rags — the ter- rible exponents of our peculiar phasis of civilisation. The frequenter of Douglas's, after ascending a few steps, found himself in a pretty large kitchen — a dark, fiery Pan- demonium, through which numerous ineffable ministers of flame were continually flying about, while beside the door sat the landlady, a large, fat woman, in a towering head- dress and large-flowered silk g'own, who bowed to every one passing. Most likely, on emerging from this igneous re- gion, the party would fall into the hands of Dawney him- self, and so be conducted to an apartment. A perfect con- trast was he to his wife : a thin, weak, submissive man, who spoke in a whisper, never but in the way of answer, and then, if possible, only in monosyllables. He had a habit of using the word ^ quietly^ very frequently, without much regard to its being appropriate to the sense ; and it is told 158 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. that he one day made the remark that ' the castle had been firing to-day — quietly;^ which, it may well be believed, was not soon forgotten by his customers. Another trait ot Dawney was, that some one lent him a volume of Claren- don's history to read, and daily frequenting the room where it lay, used regularly, for some time, to put back the reader's mark to the same place ; whereupon, being by and by asked how he liked the book, Dawney answered — ' Oh, very weel ; but dinna ye think it's gay mickle the same thing o'er again?' The house was noted for suppers of tripe, rizzared haddocks, mince coUops, and hashes, which never cost more than sixpence a-head. On charges of this mode- rate kind the honest couple grew extremely rich before they died. The principal room in this house was a handsome one of good size, having a separate access by the second of the entries which have been described, and only used for large companies, or for guests of the first importance. It was called the Crown Room, or the Crown — so did the guests find it disting-uished on the tops of their bills — and this name it was said to have acquired in consequence of its having once been used by Queen Mary as a council-room, on which occasions the emblem of sovereignty was disposed in a niche in the wall, still existing. How the queen should have had any occasion to hold councils in this place, tradi- tion does not undertake to explain ; but assuredly, when we consider the nature of all public accommodations in that time, we cannot say there is any decided improbability in the matter. The house appears of sufficient age for the hypothesis. Perhaps we catch a hint on the general possi- bility from a very ancient house farther down the close, of whose original purpose or owners we know nothing, but which is adumbrated by this legend — ANGVSTA AD VSVM AVGrSTA[M] W F B G The Crown Room, however, is elegant enough to have graced even the presence of Queen Mary, so that she only had not had to reach it by the Anchor Close. It is hand- somely panelled, with a decorated fireplace, and two tall windows towards the alley. At pi^esent, this supposed seat of royal councils, and certain seat of the social enjoyments TAYERNS OF OLD TIMES. 159 of many men of noted talents, forms a back shop to Mr Ford, g'rocer. High Street, and, all ding-y and out of coun- tenance, serves only to store hams, iirkins of butter, pack- ages of groceries, and bundles of dried cod. The gentle Dawney had an old Gaelic song called Croch- allan, which he occasionally sung to his customers. This led to the establishment of a club at his house, which, with a reference to the militia regiments then raising, was called the Crochallan Corps, or Crochallan Fencibles, and to which belonged, amongst other men of original character and talent, the well-known William Smellie, author of the Philosophy of Natural History. Each member bore a military title, and some were endowed with ideal offices of a ludicrous character : for example, a lately surviving asso- ciate had been dcpute-hangman to the corps. Individuals committing a fault were subjected to a mock trial, in which such members as were barristers could display their forensic talents to the infinite amusement of the brethren. Much mirth and not a little horse-play prevailed. Smellie, while engaged professionally in printing the Edinburgh edition of the poems of Burns, inti'oduced that genius to the Crochallans, when a scene of rough banter took place between him and certain privileged old hands, and the bard declared at the conclusion that he had ' never been so abomin- ably thrashed in his life.' There was one predominant wit, Willie Dunbar by name, of whom the poet has left a cha- racteristic picture — ' As I came by Crochallan, I cannily keekit ben — Rattling roaring Willie Was sitting at yon board en' — Sitting at yon board en', Amang gude companie ; Rattling roaring Willie, Ye're welcome hame to me ! ' He has also described Smellie as coming to Crochallan with his old cocked hat, gray surtout, and beard rising in its might — ' Yet though his caustic wit was biting, rude, His heart was warm, benevolent, and good.' The printing-office of this strange genius being at the bottom of the close, the transition from the correction of proofs to the roaring scenes at Crochallan must have been sufficiently easy for Burns. 160 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. I am indebted to a privately printed memoir on the Anchor Close for the following' anecdote of Crochallan. *A comical g-entleman, one of the members of the corps [old Williamson of Cardrona, in Peeblesshire], got rather tipsy one evening after a severe Jield day. When he came to the head of the Anchor Close, it occurred to him that it was necessary that he should take possession of the castle. He accordingly set oif for this purpose. When he got to the outer gate, he demanded immediate possession of the garrison, to which he said he was entitled. The sen- tinel, for a considerable time, laughed at him ; he, however, became so extremely clamorous, that the man found it neces- sary to apprise the commanding-officer, who immediately came down to inquire into the meaning of such imperti- nent conduct. He at once recognised his friend Cardrona, whom he had left at the festive board of the Crochallan Corps only a few hours before. Accordingly, humouring him in the conceit, he said, " Certainly you have eveiy right to the command of this garrison ; if you please, I will con- duct you to your proper apartment." He accordingly con- veyed him to a bedroom in his house. Cardrona took formal possession of the place, and immediately afterwards went to bed. His feelings were indescribable when he looked out of his bedroom window next morning, and found himself sur- rounded with soldiers and great guns. Some time afterwards, this story came to the ears of the Ci'ochallans ; and Cardrona said he never afterwards had the life of a dog, so much did they tease and harass him about his strange adventure.' There is a story connected with the air and song of Crochallan which will tell strangely after these anecdotes. The title is properly Cro Chalien — that is, Colin's Cattle. According to Highland tradition, Colin's wife, dying at an early age, came back, some months after she had been buried, and was seen occasionally in the evenings milking her cow as formerly, and singing this plaintive air. It is curious thus to find Highland superstition associated with a snug tavern in the Anchor Close, and the convivialities of such men as Burns and Smellie. John Dotvie's, in Libberton's Wynd, a still more perfect specimen of those taverns which Pitcairn eulogises — ' Antraque Cocyto penfe propinqua' — enjoyed the highest celebrity during the latter years of the TATERNS OP OLD TIMES. 161 past, and early years of the present century. A great por- tion of this house was litei'ally without light, consisting of a series of windowless chambers, decreasing in size till the last was a mere box, of irregular oblong figure, jocularly, but not inappropriately, designated the Coffin. Besides these, there were but two rooms possessing light, and as that came from a deep, narrow alley, it was light little more than in name. Hither, nevertheless, did many of the Par- liament House men come daily for their meridian. Here nightly assembled companies of cits, as well as of men of wit and of fashion, to spend hours in what may, by com- pai-ison, be described as gentle conviviality. The place is said to have been a howif of Fergusson and Burns in suc- cession. Christopher North somewhere alludes to meetings of his own with Tom Campbell in that couthy mansion. David Herd, the editor of the Scottish songs, Mr Cumming of the Lyon Office, and George Paton the antiquary, were regular customers, each seldom allowing a night to pass without a symposium at Johnie Dowie's. Now, these men are all gone ; their very habits are becoming matters of history ; while, as for their evening haunt, the place which knew it once knows it no more, the new access to the Lawnmarket, by George IV.'s Bridge, passing over the area where it stood. Johnie Dowie's was chiefly celebrated for ale — Younger''s Edbihnr(]h ale — a potent fluid, which almost glued the lips of the drinker together, and of which few, therefore, could despatch more than a bottle. John, a sleek, quiet-looking man, in a last-century style of attire, always brought in the liquor himself, decanted it carefully, drank a glass to the healths of the company, and then retired. His neat, care- ful management of the bottle, must have entirely met the views of old William Coke, the Leith bookseller, of whom it is told that, if he saw a greenhorn of a waiter acting in a different manner, he would rush indignantly up to him, take the ale out of his hands, caress it tenderly, as if to soothe and put it to rights again, and then proceed to the business of decanting it himself, saying, * You rascal, is that the way you attend to your business ? Sirrah, you ought to handle a bottle of ale as you would do a new-born babe ! ' Doioie's was also famed for its petits soupers, as one of its customers has recorded — 162 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. ' 'Deed, gif ye please. Ye may get a bit toasted cheese, A crumb o' tripe, ham, dish o' peas, The season fitting ; An egg, or, cauler frae the seas, A fleuk or whiting." When the reckoning came to be paid, John's duty usually consisted simply in counting" the empty bottles which stood on a little shelf where he had placed them above the heads of his customers, and multiplying these by the price of the liquor — usually threepence. Studious of decency, he was rigorous as to hours, and, when pressed for additional supplies of liquor at a particular time, would say, * No, no, gentlemen ; it's past twelve o'clock, and time to go home.' Of John's conscientiousness as to money matters, there is some illustration in the following otherwise trivial anec- dote. David Herd, being one night prevented by slight in- disposition from joining in the malt potations of his friends, called for first one and then another glass of spirits, which he dissolved, more Scotico, in warm water and sugar. When the reckoning came to be paid, the antiquary was surprised to find the second glass charged a fraction higher than the first — as if John had been resolved to impose a tax upon excess. On inquiring the reason, however, honest John explained it thus : — ' Whe, sir, ye see, the first glass was out o' the auld barrel, and the second was out o' the new ; and as the whisky in the new barrel cost me mair than the other, whe, sir, I've just charged a wee mair for't.' An ordinary host would have doubtless equalised the price, by raising that of the first glass to a level with the second. It is gratifying, but, after this anecdote, not surprising, that John eventually retired with a fortune said to have amounted to six thousand pounds. He had a son in the army, who attained the rank of major, and was a respectable officer. We get an idea of a class of taverns, humbler in their appointments, but equally comfortable perhaps in their entertainments, from the description which has been pre- served of Mrs Flockhart^s — otherwise Lucky Fi/kie's — in the Potterrow. This was a remarkably small, as well as obscure mansion, bearing externally the appearance of a huckstry shop. The lady was a neat little thin elderly woman, usually habited in a plain striped blue gown, and apron of the same stuff, with a black ribbon round her head, and lappets tied TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES. 163 under her chin. She was far from being poor in cii'cum- stances, as her husband, the umquhile John Flucker, or Flockhart, had left her some ready money, together with his whole stock in trade, consisting of a multifarious va- riety of articles — as ropes, tea, sugar, whip-shafts, porter, ale, beer, yellow sand, calm-stane, herrings, nails, cotton-wicks, stationery, thread, needles, tapes, potatoes, lollipops, onions matches, &c. &c. constituting her a very respectable mercJiant. as the phrase was understood in Scotland. On Sundays, too Mrs Flockhart's little visage might have been seen in a front gallery seat in Mr Pattieson's chapel in the Potterrow. Her abode, situated opposite to Chalmers's Entry in that suburban thoroughfare, was a square of about fifteen feet each way, divided agreeably to the following diagram : DWELLING-HOUSE. SHOP. 1 A Screen. 1 a Closet. HOTEL. 3 8 ~1- 1 j ■1 1 Door. Potterrow. Each forenoon was this place, or at least all in front of the screen, put into the neatest order ; at the same time three bottles, severally containing brandy, rum, and whisky, were placed on a bunker seat in the window of the ' hotel,' flanked by a few glasses, and a salver of gingerbread biscuits. About noon, any one watching the place from an opposite window, would have observed an elderly gentleman entering the humble shop, where he saluted the lady with a ' Hoo dy'e do, mem ?' and then passed into the side space, to indulge 164 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. himself with a glass from one or other of the bottles. After him came another, -who went through the same ceremonial — after him another ag-ain ; and so on. Strange to say, these were men of importance in society — some of them lawyers in good employment, some bankers, and so forth, and all of them inhabitants of good houses in George Square. It was in passing to or from forenoon business in town, that they thus regaled themselves. On special occasions. Lucky could furnish forth a soss — that is, stew — which the votary might partake of upon a clean napkin in the closet, a place which only admitted of one chair being placed in it. Such were amongst the habits of the fathers of some of our present most distinguished citizens ! This may be the proper place for introducing the few notices which I have collected respecting Edinburgh inns of a past date. The oldest house known to have been used in the cha- racter of an inn, is one situated in what is called Davidson's or the White Horse Close, at the bottom of the Canongate. A sort of port-cocher gives access to a court having mean buildings on either hand, but, facing us, a goodly structure of antique fashion, having two outside stairs curiously arranged, and the whole reminding us much of certain houses still numerous in the Netherlands. A date, deficient in the decimal fig'ure [16-3], gives us assurance of the seven- teenth century, and, judging from the style of the building, I would say the house belongs to an early portion of that age. The whole of the ground floor, accessible from the street called North Back of Canongate, has been used as stables, thus reminding us of the absence of nicety in a former age, when human beings were content to sit with only a wooden floor between themselves and their horses. This house, supposed to have been styled The White Horse Inn or White Horse Stables (for the latter was the more common word), would be conveniently situated for persons travelling to, or arriving from London, as it is close to the ancient exit of the town in that direction. The ad- jacent Water Gate took its name from a horse-pond, which probably was an appendage of this mansion. The manner of procedure for a gentleman going to London in the days of the White Horse, was to come booted to this house with saddle-bags, and here engage and mount a suitable roadster, TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES. 165 which was to serve all the way. In 1639, when Charles I. had made his first pacification with the Covenanters, and had come temporarily to Berwick, he sent messages to the chief lords of that party, desiring some conversation with them. They were unsuspectingly mounting their horses at this inn, in order to ride to Berwick, when a mob, taught by the clergy to suspect that the king wished only to wile over the nobles to his side, came and forcibly prevented them from commencing their designed journey. Montrose alone broke through this restraint ; and assuredly the result in his instance was such as to give some countenance to the suspicion, as thenceforward he was a royalist in his heart. The White Horse has ceased to be an inn from a time which no ' oldest inhabitant ' of my era could pretend to have any recollection of. The only remaining fact of interest connected with it, is one concerning Dr Alexander Rose, the last Bishop of Edinburgh, and the last survivor of the established Episcopacy of Scotland. Bishop Keith, who had been one of his presbyters, and describes him as a sweet-natured man, of a venerable aspect, states that he died March 20, 1720, 'in his own sister's house in the Canongate, in which street he also lived.' Tradition points to the floor immediately above the port-cocher by which the stable-yard is entered from the sti-eet, as the humble man- sion in which the bishop breathed his last. I know at least one person who never goes past the place without an emo- tion of respect, remembering the self-abandoning devotion of the Scottish prelates to their engagements at the Revo- lution — ' Amongst the faithless, faithful only found.' To the elegant accommodations of Barry's, Douglas's, Gibb's, and other New Town establishments of the present day, the inns of the last century present a contrast which it is difficult by the greatest stretch of imagination to realise. For the west road, there was the White Hart in the Grass- market ; for the east, the White Horse Inn in Boyd's Close, Canongate ; for the south, and partly also the east, Peter Ramsay's, at the bottom of St JMary's Wynd. Arnot, writing in 1779, describes them as ' mean buildings ; their apartments dirty and dismal ; and if the waiters happen to be out of the way, a stranger will perhaps be shocked with 166 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the novelty of being shown into a room by a dirty sun- burnt wench, without shoes or stockings.' The fact is, however, these houses were mainly used as places for keep- ing horses. Guests, unless of a very temporally character, were usually relegated to lodging-houses ; of which there were several on a considerable scale — as Mrs Thomson's at the Cross, who advertises, in 1754, that persons not bring- ing ' their silver-plate, tea china, table china, and tea-linen, can be served in them all ; ' also in wines and spirits ; like- wise that persons boarding with her, ' may expect every- thing in a veiy genteel manner.' But hear the unflatter- ing Arnot on these houses. ' He (the stranger) is probably conducted to the third or fourth floor, up dark and dirty stairs, and there shown into apartments meanly fitted up, and poorly furnished. ... In Edinburgh, letting of lodgings is a business by itself, and thereby the prices are very extra- vagant ; and every article of furniture, far from wearing the appearance of having been purchased for a happy owner, seems to be scraped together with a penurious hand, to pass muster before a stranger who will never wish to return ! ' JRamsay^s was almost solely a place of stables. General Paoli, on visiting Edinburgh in 1771, came to this house, but was immediately taken home by his friend Boswell to James's Court, where he lived during his stay in our city, his companion, the Polish ambassador, being accommodated with a bed by Dr John Gregory, in a neighbouring floor. An old gentleman of my acquaintance used to talk of having seen the Duke of Hamilton one day lounging in front of Ramsay's Inn, occasionally chatting with any gay or noble friend who passed. To one knowing the Edinburgh of the present day, nothing could seem more extravagant than the idea of such company at such places. I nevertheless find Ramsay, in 1776, advertising that, exclusive of some part of his premises recently ofiiered for sale, he is ' possessed of a good house of entertainment, good stables for above one hundred horses, and sheds for above twenty carriages.*" He retired from business about 1790, with £10,000. The modern White Horse was a place of larger, and somewhat better accommodations, though still far from an equality with even the second-rate houses of the present day. Here also the rooms were directly over the stables. TAVERNS OF OLD TIMES, 167 It was almost a matter of course that Dr Johnson, on arriving- in Edinburgh, August 17, 1773, should have come to the AVhite Horse, which was then kept by a person of the name of Boyd. His note to Boswell, informing- him of this fact, was as follows : — ' Saturday night. ' Mr Johnson sends his compliments to Mr Boswell, being just arrived at Boyd's.' When Boswell came, he found his illustrious friend in a violent passion at the waiter, for having- sweetened his lemonade without the ceremony of a pair of sugar-tong-s. Mr William Scott, afterwards Lord Stowell, accompanied Johnson on this occasion ; and he informs us, in a note to Croker's edition of Boswell, that when he heard the mis- tress of the house styled, in Scotch fashion. Lucky, which he did not then imderstand, he thought she should rather have been styled XJnluchj, for the doctor seemed as if he would destroy the house. James Boyd, the keeper of this inn, was addicted to horse-racing, and his victories on the turf, or rather on Leith sands, are frequently chronicled in the journals of that day. It is said that he was at one time on the brink of ruin, when he was saved by a lucky run with a white horse, which, in gratitude, he kept idle all the rest of its days, besides setting up its portrait as his sign. He event- ually retired from this 'dirty and dismal' inn, with a for- tune of several thousand pounds; and, as a curious note upon the impression which its slovenliness conveyed to Dr Johnson, it may be stated as a fact, well authenticated, that at the time of his giving up the house, he possessed napery to the value of five hundred pounds ! A large room in the White Horse was the frequent scene of the marriages of runaway English couples, at a time when these irregularities were permitted in Edinburgh. On one of the windows were scratched the words — ' JEREMIAH AND SARAH BBNTHAM, 17G8.' Could this be the distinguished jurist and codificator, on a journey to Scotland in company with a female relation ?* * The following curious advertisement, connected with an inn in the Canongate, appeared in the Edinburgh Evening Courant for July 1, 1/54. The advertisement is surmounted by a woodcut representing the stage-coach — a towering vehicle, protruding at top — the coachman a stiff-looking, antique little figure, who holds the reins with both hands, as if he were afraid of the 168 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. THE CROSS — C A WDIES. The Cross, a handsome octag-onal building in the High Street, surmounted by a pillar bearing the Scottish unicorn, was the great centre of gossip in former days. The prin- cipal coffee-houses and booksellers' shops were close to this spot. The chief merchants, the leading official persons, the men of learning and talents, the laird, the noble, the clergyman, were constantly clustering hereabouts during certain hours of the day. It was the very centre and cyno- sure of the old city. During the reigns of the first and second Georges, it was customary for the magistrates of Edinburgh to drink the king's health on his birthday, on a stage erected at the Cross — loyalty being a virtue which always becomes pecu- liarly ostentatious when it is under any suspicion of weak- ness. On one of these occasions, the ceremony was inter- rupted by a shower of rain, so heavy, that the company, with one consent, suddenly dispersed, leaving their enter- tainment half finished. When they returned, the glasses were found full of water, which gave a Jacobite lady occa- sion for the following epigram, reported to me by a vener- able bishop of the Scottish Episcopal church : — ' In Cana once Heaven's king was pleased With some gay bridal folks to dine, And then, in honour of the feast, He changed the water into wine. horses running away — a long whip streaming over his head, and over the top of the coach, and falling down behind— six horses, like starved rats in appear- ance — a postilion upon one of the leaders, with a whip. ' The Edinburgh Stage-Coagh, for the better accommodation of Passengers, will be altered to a new genteel two-end Glass Machine, hung on Steel Springs, exceeding light and easy, to go in ten days in summer and twelve in winter ; to set out the first Tuesday in March, and continue it from Hosea Eastgate's, the Coach and Horses in Dean Street, Soho, London, and from John Somer- ville's in the Canongate, Edinburgh, every other Tuesday, and meet at Burrow-bridge on Saturday night, and set out from thence on Monday morn- ing, and get to London and Edinburgh on Friday. In the winter to set out from London and Edinburgh every other (alternate) Monday morning, and to go to Burrow-bridge on Saturday night ; and to set out from thence on Monday morning, and get to London and Edinburgh on Saturday night. Passengers to pay as usual. Performed, if God permits, by your dutiful servant, Hosea Eastgate. ' Care is taken of small parcels according to their value.' THE CROSS — CAWDIES. 169 But when, to honour Brunswick's birth, Our tribunes mounted the Theatre, He would not countenance their mirth. But turned their claret into water ! ' As the place where state proclamations were always made, where the execution of noted state criminals took place, and where many important public ceremonials were enacted, the Cross of Edinburgh is invested with number- less associations of a most interesting' kind, extending over several centuries. Here took place the mysterious midnight proclamation, summoning the Flodden lords to the domains of Pluto, as described so strikingly in Marmion ; the wit- ness being ' Mr Richard Lawson, ill-disposed, ganging in his gallery fore-stair.' Here did King James bring together his barbarous nobles, and make them shake hands over a feast partaken of before the eyes of the people. Here did the Covenanting lords read their protests against Charles's feeble proclamations. Here fell INIontrose, Huntly, the Argyles, Warriston, and many others of note, victims of political dissension. Here were fountains set a-flowing with the blood-red wine, to celebrate the passing of kings along the causeway. And here, as a last notable fact, were Prince Charles and his father proclaimed by their devoted Highlanders, amidst screams of pipe and blare of trumpet, while the beautiful Mrs Murray of Broughton sat beside the party on horseback, adorned with white ribbons, and with a drawn sword in her hand ! How strange it seems that a time should at length have come when a set of magistrates thought this structure an incumbrance to the street, and had it removed. This event took place in 1756 — the ornamental stones dispersed, the pillar taken to the park at Drum. The Cross was the peculiar citadel and rallying-point of a species of lazzaroni called Cadies or Cawdies, which for- merly existed in Edinburgh, employing themselves chiefly as street messengers and valets-de-place. A ragged, half- blackguard-looking set they were, but allowed to be amaz- ingly acute and intelligent, and also faithful to any duty intrusted to them. A stranger coming to reside temporarily in Edinburgh, got a cawdy attached to his service to conduct him from one part of the town to another, to run errands for him ; in short, to be wholly at his bidding. 170 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. -' Omnia novit, Graeculus esuriens, in ccelum, jusseris, ibit.' A cawdy did literally know everything- — of Edinburgh; even to that kind of knowledg-e which we now expect only in a street directory. And it was equally true that he could hardly be asked to g-o anywhere, or upon any mission, that he would not go. On the other hand, the stranger would probably be astonished to find that, in a few hours, his cawdy was acquainted with every particular regarding himself, where he was from, what was his purpose in Edinburgh, his family connexions, and his own tastes and dispositions. Of course for every particle of scandal floating" about Edin- burgh, the cawdy was a ready book of reference. We some- times wonder how our ancestors did without newspapers. We do not reflect on the living- vehicles of news which then existed : the privileged beg-gar for the country people — for townsfolk, the cawdies. The cawdy is alluded to as a useful kind of blackg-uard in Burfs Letters from the North of Scotland, written about 1740. He says, that although they are mere wretches in rags, lying upon stairs and in the streets at night, they are often considerably trusted, and seldom or never prove un- faithful. The story told by tradition is, that they formed a society under a chief called their constable, with a common fund or box ; that when they committed any misdemeanour, such as incivility or lying, they were punished by this offioer by fines, or sometimes corporeally ; and if, by any chance, money intrusted to them should not be forthcoming-, it was made up out of the common treasury. Mr Burt says, * whether it be true or not, I cannot say, but I have been told by several, that one of the judges formerly abandoned two of his sons for a time to this way of life, as believing- it would create in them a sharpness which might be of use to them in the future course of their lives.' Major Topham, describing Edinburgh in 1774, says of the cawdies, *in short, they are the tutelary g-uardians of the city ; and it is entirely owing- to them that there are fewer robberies and less housebreaking in Edinburgh than anywhere else.' Another conspicuous set of public servants, peculiar to Edinburgh in past times, were the Chairmen, or carriei's of sedans, who also formed a society among themselves, but were of superior respectability, in as far as none but steady THE CROSS — CAWDIES, 171 considerate persons of so humble an order could become possessed of the means to buy the vehicle by which they made their bread. In former times, when Edinburgh was so much more limited than now, and rather an assemblage of alleys than of streets, sedans were in comparatively great request. They were especially in requisition among'st the ladies — indeed almost exclusively so. From time imme- morial, the sons of the Gael have monopolised this branch of service ; and as far as the business of a sedan-carrier can yet be said to exist amongst us, it is in possession of High- landers, The reader must not be in too great haste to smile when I claim his regard for a historical person among the chair- men of Edinburgh. This was Edward Burke, the imme- diate attendant of Prince Charles Edward during the earlier portion of his wanderings in the Highlands. Honest Ned had been a chairman in our city, but attaching himself as a servant to Mr Alexander Macleod of Muiravonside, aid- de-camp to the Prince, it was his fortune to be present at the battle of Culloden, and to fly from the field in his Royal Highness's company. He attended the Prince for several weeks, sharing cheerfully in all his hardships, and doing his best to promote his escape. Thus has his name been in- separably associated with this remarkable chapter of history. After parting with Charles, this poor man underwent some dreadful hardships while under hiding, his fears for being taken having reference chiefly to the Prince, as he was apprehensive that the enemy might torture him to gain intelligence of his late master's movements. At length the act of indemnity placed him at his ease ; and the humble creatui'e who, by a word of his mouth, might have gained thirty thousand pounds, quietly returned to his duty as a chairman on the streets of Edinburgh ! Which of the venal train of Walpole, which even of the admirers of Pulteney, is more entitled to admiration than Ned Burke 1 A man, too, who could neither read nor write — for such was actually his case.* * Bishop Forbes inserts in his manuscript (which I possess) a panegyrical epitaph for Ned Burke, stating that he died in Edinburgh in November 175], He also gives the following particulars from Burke's conversation. ' One of the soles of Ned's shoes happening to come off, Ned cursed the day upon which he should be forced to go without shoes. The Prince, hearing him, called to him and said, " Ned, look at me"— when (said Ned) I saw 172 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. One cannot but feel it to be in some small degree a con- solatory circumstance, and not without a certain air of the I'omance of an earlier day, that a bacchanal company came with a bowl of punch, the night before the demolition, and in that mood of mind when men shed ' smiles that might as well be tears,' drank the Dredgie of the Cross upon its doomed battlements. ' Oh ! be his tomb as lead to lead, Upon its dull destroj'er's head ! A minstrel's malison is said.* * THE TOWN-GUARD. One of the characteristic features of Edinburgh in old times was its Town-Guard, a body of military in the ser- vice of the magistrates for the purposes of a police, but dressed and armed in all respects as soldiers. Composed for the most part of old Highlanders, of uncouth aspect and speech, dressed in a dingy red uniform with cocked hats, and often exchanging the musket for an antique native weapon called the Lochaber axe, these men were (at least in latter times) an unfailing subject of mirth to the citizens, particularly the younger ones. In my recollection they had a sort of Patmos in the ground-floor of the Old Tolbooth, where a few of them might constantly be seen on duty, endeavouring to look as formidable as possible to the little boys who might be passing by. On such occasions as exe- cutions, or races at Leith, or the meeting of the General Assembly, they rose into a certain degree of consequence ; but, in general, they could hardly be considered as of any him holding up one of his feet at me, where there was deil a sole upon the shoe; and then I said, "Oh, my dear! I have nothing more to say. You have stopped my mouth indeed." ' When Ned was talking of seeing the Prince again, he spoke these words : " If the Prince do not come and see me soon, good faith I will go and see my daughter [Charles having taken the name of Betty Burke when in a female disguise], and crave her ; for she has not yet paid her christening money, and as little has she paid the coat I ga'e her in her greatest need." ' * ' Upon the 26th of February [1617], the Cross of Edinburgh was taken ■down. The old long stone, about forty footes or thereby in length, was to be translated, by the devise of certain mariners in Leith, from the place where it had stood past the memory of man to a place beneath in the High Street, wthout any harm to the stone ; and the body of the old Cross was demo- lished, and another builded, whereupon the long stone or obelisk was erected and set up, on the 25th day of 'Maxch..'—Calderwood's Church HUtory. THE TOWN-GIT A.RD. 173 practical utility. Their numbers were at that time much re- duced — only twenty-five privates, two sergeants, two cor- porals, and a couple of drummers. Every night did their drum beat through the Old Town at eight o'clock, as a kind of curfew. No other drum, it seems, was allowed to sound on the High Street between the Luckenbooths and Nether- bow. They also had an old practice of giving a charivari on the drum, on the night of a marriage, before the lodgings of the bridegroom ; of course not without the expectation of something wherewithal to drink the health of the young couple. A strange remnant of old times, altogether, were the Town Rats, as the poor old fellows were disrespectfully called by the boys, in allusion to the hue of their uniform. Previous to 1805, when an unarmed police was established for the protection of the streets, the Town-Guard had con- sisted of three equally large companies, each with a lieu- tenant (complimentarily called captain) at its head. Then it was a somewhat more respectable body, not only as being larger, but invested with a really useful purpose. The unruly and the vicious stood in some awe of a troop of men bearing lethal weapons, and generally somewhat frank in the use of them. If sometimes roughly handled on kings' birthdays, and other exciting- occasions, they in their turn did not fail to treat cavalierly enough any unfortunate roysterer whom they might find breaking the peace. They had, previous to 1785, a guard-house in the middle of the High Street, the 'black hole' of which had rather a bad character among the bucks and the frail ladies. One of their sergeants in those days, by name John Dhu, is com- memorated by Scott as the fiercest-looking fellow he ever saw. If we might judge from poor Robert Fergusson, they were truly formidable in his time. He says — ' And thou, great god o' aquavitae, Wba sway'st the empire o' this city ; * * Be thou prepared To hedge us frae that black banditti. The City-Guard.' He adds, apostrophising the irascible veterans — • Oh, soldiers, for your ain dear sakes, For Scotland's love — the land o' cakes — Gie not her bairns sae deadly paiks. Nor be sae rude, Wi' firelock and Lochaber axe. As spill their blude !' 174 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. The affair at the execution of Wilson the smuggler, in 1736, when, under command of Porteous, they lired upon and killed many of the mob, may be regarded as a peculiarly impressive example of the stern relation in which they stood to the populace of a former age. The great bulk of the corps was drawn either from the Highlands directly, or from the Highland regiments. A humble Highlander considered it as getting a birth, when he was enlisted into the Edinburgh Guard. Of this feeling we have a remarkable illustration in an anecdote which I was told by the late Mr Alexander Campbell, regarding the Highland bard, Duncan Macintyre, usually called Donaclia Bhan. This man, really an exquisite poet to those understanding his language, became the object of a kind interest to many educated persons in Perthshire, his native county. The Earl of Breadalbane sent to let him know that he wished to befriend him, and was anxious to procure him some situation that might put him compara- tively at his ease. Poor Duncan returned his thanks, and asked his lordship's interest — to get him into the Edinburgh Town-Guard — pay, sixpence a-day ! What sort of material these men would have proved in the hands of the magis- trates, if Provost Stewart had attempted, by their means, and the other forces at his command, to hold out the city against Prince Charlie, seems hardly to be matter of doubt. I was told the following anecdote of a member of the corps, on good authority. Robert Stewart, a descen- dant of the Stewarts of Bonskeid in Athole, was then a private in the City-Guard. When General Hawley left Edinburgh to meet the Highland army in the west country, Stewart had just been relieved from duty for the custo- mary period of two days. Instantly forming his plan of action, he set off with his gun, passed through the English troops on their march, and joined those of the Prince. Stewart fought next day like a hero in the battle of Falkirk, where the Prince had the best of it ; and next morning our town-guardsman was back to Edin- burgh, in time to go upon duty at the proper hour. The captain of his company suspected what business Robert and his gun had been engaged in, but preserved a friendly silence. The Gutter Mood people .of Edinburgh had an extrava- THE TOWN-GUARD. 175 gant idea of the antiquity of the Guard, led probably by a fallacy arising from the antiquity of the individual men. They used to have a strang-e story — too ridiculous, one would have thought, for a moment's ci'edence anywhere — that the Town -Guard existed before the Christian era. When the Romans invaded Britain, some of the Town- Guard joined them ; and three were actually present in Pilate's guard at the Crucifixion ! In reality, the corps had not existed regularly from an earlier period than 1696 ; it had been, however, twice temporarily in existence before — the first time in 1648. Fifty years ago, the so-called captaincies of the Guard were snug appointments, in great request among respectable old citizens who had not succeeded in business. Kay has given us some illustrations of these extraordinary specimens of soldiercraft, one of whom was nineteen stone. Captain Gordon of Gordonstown, representative of one of the oldest families in Scotland, found himself obliged by fortune to accept of one of these situations. Scott, writing his Heart of Mid- Lothian in 1817, says — ' Of late, the gradual diminution of these civic soldiers re- minds one of the abatement of King Lear's hundred knights. The edicts of each set of succeeding magistrates have, like those of Goneril and Regan, diminished this venerable band with similar question — " What need have we of five-and- twenty? — ten? — five?" and now it is nearly come to, "What need we one ? " A spectre may indeed here and there still be seen of an old gray-headed and gray-bearded High- lander, with war-worn features, but bent double by age ; dressed in an old-fashioned cocked-hat, bound with white tape instead of silver lace, and in coat, waistcoat, and breeches of a muddy-coloured red ; bearing in his withered hand an ancient weapon, called a Lochaber axe ; a long pole, namely, with an axe at the extremity, and a hook at the back of the hatchet. Such a phantom of former days still creeps, I have been informed, round the statue of Chai'les II. in the Parliament Square, as if the image of a Stuart were the last refuge for any memorial of our ancient manners,' &c. At the close of this very year, the ' What need we one ? ' was asked, and answered in the nega- tive ; and the corps was accordingly dissolved. ' Their last march to do duty at Hallow Fair had something in it aifect- 176 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. ing. Their drums and fifes had been wont, in better days, to play on this joyous occasion the lively tune of " Jockey to the fair ; " but on this final occasion, the afflicted veterans moved slowly to the dirg-e of " The last time I came owre the muir." ' * The half-serious pathos of Scott reg-arding this corps he- comes wholly so, when we learn that a couple of membei's survived, to make what will perhaps prove an actual last public appearance, in the procession which consecrated his richly-deserved monument, August 15, 1846. EDINBURGH MOBS. The Blue Blanket — Mobs of the Seventeenth Century — Bowed Joseph. The Edinburgh populace was noted, during- many ages, for its readiness to rise in tumultuary fashion, whether under the prompting of religious zeal, or from inferior motives. At an early time they became an impromptu army, each citizen possessing weapons, which he was ready and willing to use. Thus they are understood to have risen in 1482, to redeem James III. from restraint in the Castle ; for which service, besides certain privileges, 'he granted them,' says Maitland, ' a banner or standard, with a power to display the same in defence of their king, country, and their own rights.' The historian adds — ' This flag, at present denominated the Blue Blanket, is kept by the Convener of the Trades ; at whose appearance therewith, 'tis said that not only the artificers of Edinburgh are obliged to repair to it, but all the artisans or craftsmen within Scotland are bound to follow it, and fight under the Convener of Edinburgh, as aforesaid.' The Blue Blanket, I may mention, has become a sort of myth in Edinburgh, being magnified by the popular imagination into a banner which the citizens carried with them to the Holy Land in one of the Crusades — expeditions which took place before Edinburgh had become a town fit to furnish any distinct corps of armed men. * Warerley Annotations, i. 435. EDINBURGH MOBS. 177 When the Protestant faith came to stir up men's minds, the lower order of citizens became a formidable body indeed. James VI., who had more than once experienced their vio- lence, and consequently knew them well, says very naively in his Basilicon Doron, or ' Book of Instruction ' to his son — * They think we should be content with their work, how bad and dear soever it be ; and if they be in anything con- trouled, up goeth the Blue Blanket!'' The tumults at the introduction of the Service Book, in 1637, need only be alluded to. So late as the Revolution, there appears a military spirit of great boldness in the Edinburgh populace, reminding us of that of Paris in our own times : witness the bloody contests which took place in accomplishing the destruction of the papistical arrangements at the Abbey, December 1688. The Union mobs were of un- exampled violence ; and Edinburgh was only kept in some degree of quiet, during the greater pai-t of that crisis, by a great assemblage of troops. Finally, in the Porteous mob we have a singular example of popular vengeance, wreaked cut in the most cool, but determined manner. Men seem to have been habitually under an impression in those days that the law was at once an imperfect and a partial power. They seem to have felt themselves constantly liable to be called upon to supplement its energy, or conti'ol or compen- sate for its errors. The mob had at that time a part in the state. In this ' fierce democracy ' there once arose a mighty Pyrrhus, who contrived, by dint of popular qualifications, to subject the rabble to his command, and to get himself elected, by acclamation. Dictator of all its motions and exploits. How he acquired his wonderful power, is not recorded ; but it is to be supposed that his activity on occasions of mobbing, his boldness and sagacity, his strong- voice and uncommonly powerful whistle, together with the mere whim or humour of the thing, conspired to his promo- tion. His trade was that of a cobbler, and he resided in some obscure den in the Cowgate. His person was low, and deformed, with the sole good property of gi'eat muscular strength in the arms. Yet this wretch, miserable and con- temptible as he appeared, might be said to have had, at one time, the command of the Scottish metropolis. The magis- trates, it is true, assembled every Wednesday forenoon, to VOL. VI. L 178 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. manage the affairs, and delibei'ate upon the improvements, of the city ; but their power was merely that of a vice- royalty. Bowed Joseph, otherwise called General Joseph Smith, was the only true potentate ; and their resolutions could only be carried into effect when not inconsistent with his views of policy. In exercising the functions of his perilous office, it does not appear that he ever drew down the vengeance of the more lawfully-constituted authorities of the land. On the contrary, he was in some degree countenanced by the magistracy, who, however, patronised him rather from fear than respect. They frequently sent for him in emergencies, in order to consult with him regarding the best means of appeasing and dispersing the mob. On such occasions, nothing could equal the consequential air which he as- sumed. With one hand stuck carelessly into his side, and another slapped resolutely down upon the table — with a majestic toss of the head, and as much fierceness in his little gray eye as if he were himself a mob — he would stand before the anxious and feeble council, pleading the cause of his compeers, and suggesting the best means of assuaging their just fury. He was generally despatched with a promise of amendment, and a hogshead of good ale, with which he could easily succeed in appeasing his men, whose dismissal, after a speech from himself, and a libation from the barrel, was usually accomplished by the simple words — 'Now disperse my lads'.' Joseph was not only employed in directing and managing the mobs, but frequently performed exploits without the co-operation of his greasy friends, though always for their amusement, and in their behalf. Thus, for instance, when Wilkes, by his celebrated Number 45, incensed the Scottish nation so generally and so bitterly, Joseph got a cart, fitted up with a high gallows, from which depended a straw-stuffed effigy of North Britain's arch-enemy, with the devil perched upon bis shoulder; and this he paraded through the streets, followed by the multitude, till he came to the Gallow-Lee in Leith Walk, where two criminals were then hanging in chains, beside whom he exposed the figures of Wilkes and his companion. Thus also, when the Douglas cause was decided against the popular opinion in the Court of Session, Joseph went up to the chair of the Lord President, as he EDINBURGH MOBS. 179 was g'oing home to his house, and called hira to account for the injustice of his decision. After the said decision was reversed by the House of Lords, Joseph, by way of triumph over the Scottish court, dressed up fifteen figures in rag's and wigs, resembling the judicial attire, mounted them on asses, and led them through the streets, telling the populace that they saw the fifteen senators of the College of Justice ! When the craft of shoemakers used, in former times, to parade the High Street, West Bow, and Grassmarket, with inverted tin kettles on their heads, and schoolboys' rulers in their hands, Joseph — who, though a leader and commander on every other public occasion, was not admitted into this procession, on account of his being* only a cobbler — dressed himself in his best clothes, with a royal crown painted and gilt, and a wooden truncheon, and marched pompously through the city, till he came to the Netherbow, where he planted himself in the middle of the street, to await the approach of the procession, which he, as a citizen of Edin- burgh, proposed to welcome into the town. When the royal shoemaker came to the Netherbow Port, Joseph stood forth, removed the truncheon from his haunch, flourished it in the air, and pointing it to the ground, with much dignity of manner, addressed his paste-work majesty in these words: — * Oh, great King Crispianus ! what are we in thy sight but a parcel of puir slaister-kytes— creeshy cobblers — sons of bitches?' And I have been assured that this ceremony was performed in a style of burlesque exhibiting no small artistic power. Joseph had a wife, whom he would never permit to walk beside him, it being his opinion that women are inferior to the male part of creation, and not entitled to the same privi- leges. He compelled his spouse to walk a few paces behind him; and when he turned, she was obliged to make a circuit, so as to maintain the precise distance from his per- son which he assigned to her. When he wished to say anything to her, he whistled as upon a dog, upon which she came up to him submissively, and heard what he had to say; after which she respectfully resumed her station in the real". After he had figured for a few years as an active partisan of the people, his name waxed of such account with them, that it is said he could, in the course of an hour, collect a 180 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. crowd of not fewer than ten thousand persons, all ready to obey his high behests, or to disperse at his bidding. In collecting' his troops, he employed a drum, which, though a general, he did not disdain to beat with his own hands ; and never, surely, had the Fiery Cross of the Highland chief such an effect upon the warlike devotion of his clan, as Bowed Joseph's drum had upon the spirit of the Edinburgh rabble. As he strode along, the street was cleared of its loungers, every close pouring forth an addition to his train, like the populous glens adjacent to a large Highland sti'ath giving forth their accessions to the general force collected by the aforesaid Cross. The Town Rats, who might peep forth like old cautious snails on hearing his drum, would draw in their horns with a Gaelic execration, and shut their door, as he approached ; while the Lazy Corner was, at sight of him, a lazy corner no longer ; and the West Bow ceased to resound as he descended. It would appear, after all, that there was a moral foun- dation for Joseph's power, as there must be for that of all governments of a more regular nature that would wish to thrive or be lasting. The little man was never known to act in a bad cause, or in anyway to go against the prin- ciples of natural justice. He employed his power in the redress of such grievances as the law of the land does not, or cannot, easily reach ; and it was apparent that almost everything he did was for the sake of what he himself de- signated fair play. Fair play, indeed, was his constant object, whether in clearing room with his brawny arms for a boxing-match, insulting the constituted authorities, sack- ing the granary of a monopolist, or besieging the Town- Council in their chamber. An anecdote, which proves this strong love of fair play, deserves to be recorded. A poor man in the Pleasance, having been a little deficient in his rent, and in the country on business, his landlord seized and rouped his household furniture, turning out the family to the street. On the poor man's return, finding the house desolate, and his family in misery, he went to a neighbouring stable and hanged himself.* Bowed Joseph did not long remain ignorant of the case ; and as soon as it was generally known in the city, he shouldered on his drum, and after beating it * Scots Magazine, June 17fi7- EDINBURGH MOBS. 181 throug'h the streets for half an hour, found himself fol- lowed by several thousand persons, inflamed with resent- ment at the landlord's cruelty. With this army he marched to an open space of ground now covered by Adam Street, Roxburgh Street, &c. named in former times Thomson's Park, where, mounted upon the shoulders of six of his lieutenant-generals, he proceeded to harangue them, in Cambyses' vein, concerning the flagrant oppression which they were about to revenge. He concluded by directing his men to sack the premises of the cruel landlord, who by this time had wisely made his escape ; and this order was instantly obeyed. Every article which the house contained was brought out to the street, where, being piled up in a heap, the general set fire to them with his own hand, while the crowd rent the air with their acclamations. Some money and bank-notes perished in the blaze — besides an eight-day clock, which, sensible to the last, calmly struck ten just as it was consigned to the flames. On another occasion, during a scarcity, the mob, headed by Joseph, had compelled all the meal-dealers to sell their meal at a certain price per peck, under penalty of being obliged to shut up their shops. One of them, whose place of business was in the Grassmarket, agreed to sell his meal at the price fixed by the general, for the good of the poor, as he said ; and he did so under the superintendence of Joseph, who stationed a party at the shop-door to pre- serve peace and good order, till the whole stock was dis- posed of, when, by their leader's command, the mob gave three hearty cheers, and quietly dispersed. Next day, the unlucky victualler let his friends know that he had not suffered so much by this compulsory trade as might be supposed ; because, though the price was below that of the market, he had taken care to use a measure which gave only about three-fourths, instead of the whole. It was not long" €re this intelligence came to the ears of our tribune, who, immediately collecting a party of his troops, beset the meal- dealer before he was aware, and compelled him to pay back a fourth of the price of every peck of meal sold ; then ^ving their victim a hearty drubbing, they sacked his shop, and quietly dispersed as before. Some foreign princes happening to visit Edinburgh 45 Pag-anini.* Both, if I maj use the expression, threw their whole hearts and souls into their Cremonas, bows, and fingers. " Hall of sweet sounds, adieu, with all thy fascinations of langsyne, My dearest reminiscences of music all are thine." ' O. T. Octogenarius Edinhurgcnsis, Feb. 1847. Stabilini, to whom our dear G. T. refers, and who died in 1815, much broken down by dissipation, was obliged, against his will, to give frequent attendance at the private concerts of one of these gentlemen performers, where Corelli's trios were in great vogue. There was always a capital supper afterwards, at which Stab (so he was familiarly called) ate and drank for any two. A waggish friend, who knew his opinion of Edinburgh amateurs, meeting him next day, would ask, * Well, Mr Stabilini, what sort of music had you the other night at 's ? ' ' Vera good soaper, sir; vera good soaper!' 'But tell us the verse you made about one of these parties.' Stabilini, twitching up his shirt-collar, a common ti'ick of his, would say, ' A piece ov toarkey for a hungree bellee Is moatch sup«erior to Corelli ! ' The accent, the manner, the look with which this was de- livered, is said to have been beyond expression rich. It is quite remarkable, when we consider the high cha- racter of the popular melodies, how late and slow has been the introduction of a taste for the higher class of musical compositions into Scotland. The Earl of Kelly, a man of yesterday, was the first Scotsman who ever composed music for an orchestra. This fact seems sufficient. It is to be feared that the beauty of the melodies is itself partly to be * [' John M. Giomovicki, commonly kno^\Ti in Britain under the name of Jarnowick, was a native of Palermo. About 1770 he went to Paris, where he performed a concerto of his famous master Lolli, but did not succeed. He then played one of his own concertos, that in A major, and became quite the fashion. The style of Giornovicki was highly elegant and finished, his into- nation perfect, and his taste pure. The late Domenico Dragonetti, one of the best judges in Europe, told me that Giornovicki was the most elegant and graceful violin player he had ever heard before Paganini, but that he wanted power. He seems to have been a dissipated and passionate man ; a good swordsman too, as was common in those da3's. One day, in a dispute, he struck the Chevalier St George, then one of the greatest violin players and best swordsmen in Europe. St George said coolly, " I have too much regard for his musical talent to fight him." A noble speech, showing St George in all respects the better man. Giornovicki died suddenly at St Petersburg in 1804.'— G. F. G.-\ 246 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. blamed for the indifference to hig-her music. There is too great a disposition to rest with the distinction thus con- ferred upon the nation ; too many are content to go no farther for the enjoyments which music has to give. It would be well if, while not forgetting those beautiful simple airs, we were more generally to open our minds to the still richer chai-ms of the German and the Italian muses. THE MURDER OF DARNLEY. While this event is connected with one of the most problematical points in our own history, or that of any other nation, it chances that the whole topography of the aifair is very distinctly recorded. We know not only the exact spot where the deed was perpetrated, but almost every foot of the ground over which the perpetrators walked on their way to execute it. It is chiefly by reason of the depo- sitions and confessions brought out by the legal proceedings against the inferior instruments, that this minute know- ledge is attained. The house in which the unfortunate victim resided at the time was one called the Prebendaries' Chamber, being part of the suite of domestic buildings connected with the collegiate church of St-Mary-in-the-Fields (usually called the Kirh o' Field). Darnley was brought to lodge here on the 30th of January 1566-7. He had contracted the small-pox at Glasgow, and it was thought necessary, or pretended to be thought necessary, to lodge him in this place for air, as also to guard against infecting the infant prince, his son, who was lodged in Holyroodhouse. The house, which then belonged, by gift, to a creature of the Earl of Bothwell, has been described as so very mean, as to excite general surprise. Yet, speaking by comparison, it does not appear to have been a bad temporary lodging for a person in Darnley's circumstances. It consisted of two storeys, with a turnpike or spiral staircase behind. The gable adjoined to the town wall, which there ran in a line east and west, and the cellar had a postern opening through that wall. In the upper floor were a chamber and closet, with a little gallery having a window also through the THE MURDER OF DARNLEY. 247 town wall.* Here Darnley was deposited in an old purple travelling bed. Underneath his room was an apartment in which the queen slept for one or two nights before the murder took place. On the night of Sunday, February 9, she was attending upon her husband in his sick room, when the servants of the Earl of Bothwell deposited the powder in her room, immediately under the king's bed. The queen afterwards took her leave, in order to attend the wedding of two of her servants at the palace. It appears, from the confessions of the wretches executed for this foul deed, that, as they returned from depositing the powder, they saw ' the Queenes grace gangand before thame with licht torches up the Black Frier Wynd.' On their returning to Bothwell's lodging at the palace, that nobleman prepared himself for the deed, by changing his gay suit of ' hose, stockit with black velvet, passemented with silver, and doublett of black satin of the same maner,' for ' ane uther pair of black hose,t and ane canves doublet white, and tuke his syde [long] riding-cloak about him, of sad English claith, callit the new colour.' He then went, attended by Paris, the queen's servant, Powry, his own porter. Pate Wilson, and George Dalgliesh, ' downe the turnepike altogedder, and along the bak of the Queenes garden, till you come to the bak of the cunyie-house [mint], and the bak of the stabbillis, till you come to the Cannogate foment the Abbey zett.' After passing up the Canongate, and gaining' entry with some difficulty by the Netherbow Port, ' thai gaid up abone Bassentyne's hous on the south side of the gait,I and knockit at ane door beneath the sword slippers, and callit for the laird of Ormistounes, and one within answerit he was not thair ; and thai passit down a cloiss beneath the Frier Wynd [apjJarentli/ Todrig's Wynd], * About seventy paces to the east of the site of the Prebendaries' Chamber, and exactly opposite to the opening of Roxburgh Place, was a projection in the wall, which has been long demolished, and the wall altered. Close, how- ever, to the west of the place, and near the ground, are some remains of an arch in the wall, which Malcolm Laing supposes to have been a gun-port connected with the projection at this spot. It certainly has no connection, as Arnot and (after him) Whitaker have supposed, with the story of Damley's murder. t Hose, in those days, covered the whole of the lower part of the person. $ This indicates pretty nearly the site of the house of Bassendyne, the early printer. It must have been opposite, or nearly opposite, to the Fountaia WelL 248 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. and enterit in at the zett of the Black Friers, till thay came to the back wall and dyke of the town wall, whair my lord and Paris past in over the wall.' The explosion took place soon after, about two in the morning'. The earl then came back to his attendants at this spot, and ' thai past all away togidder out at the Frier zett, and sinderit in the Cowgait.' It is here evident that the alley now called the High School Wynd was the avenue by which the conspirators approached the scene of their atrocity. Bothwell himself, with part of his attendants, went up the same wynd ' be east the Frier Wynd,' and crossing the High Street, endeavoured to get out of the city by leaping a broken part of the town wall in Leith Wynd, but finding it too high, was obliged to rouse once more the porter at the Netherbow. They then passed — for every motion of the villains has a strange inte- rest — down St Mary's Wynd, and along the south back of the Canongate, to the earl's lodgings in the palace. The house itself, by this explosion, was destroyed, ' even^ as the queen tells in a letter to her ambassador in France, * to the very grund-staneJ The bodies of the king and his servant wei"e found next morning in a garden or field on the outside of the town wall. The buildings connected with the Kirk o' Field were afterwards converted into the College of King James, now our Edinburgh university. The hall of the Senatus in the new building occupies nearly the exact site of the Prebendaries' Chamber, the ruins of which are laid down in De Witt's map of 1648. MINT CLOSE. The Mint— Robert Cullen— Lord Chancellor Loughborough. The Cunyie House, as the Scottish Mint used to be called, was near Holyrood Palace in the days of Queen Mary. In the regency of Morton, a large house was erected for it in the Cowgate, where it may still be seen, with the following inscription over the door — Be. mercyfull. to. me. 0. God. 1574. In the reign of Charles II., other buildings were added be- hind, forming a neat quadrangle; and here was the Scottish coin produced till the Union, when a separate coinage was MINT CLOSE. 249 given up, and this establishment abandoned; though, to gratify prejudice, the offices were still kept up as sinecures. This court, with its buildings, was a sanctuary for persons prosecuted for debt, as was the King's Stables, a mean place at the west end of the Grassmai-ket. There was, however, a small den near the top of the oldest building, lighted by a small window looking up the Cowgate, which was used as a jail for debtors or other delinquents condemned by the Mint's own officers. In the western portion of the old building, accessible by a stair from the court, is a handsome room with an alcove ceiling, and lighted by two handsomely-pi'oportioned win- dows, which is known to have been the council-room of the Mint, being a portion of the private mansion of the master. Here, in May 1590, on a Sunday evening, the town of Edinburgh entertained the Danish lords who accompanied James VI. and his queen from her native court ; namely, Peter Monk, the admiral of Denmark ; Stephen Brahe, captain of Eslinburg [perhaps a relative of Tycho ?] ; Braid Eansome Maugaret ; Nicholaus Theophilus, Doctor of Laws ; Henry Goolister, captain of Bocastle; William Vanderwent; and some others ; including doubtless the bold bacchanal whom Burns has celebrated as introducing a whistle, a prize for any one who could outdrink the possessor. For this banquet, 'maid in Thomas Aitchinsoune, master of the cunyie-house lugeing,' it was ordered ' that the thesaurer caus by and lay in foure punsheouns wyne ; John Borthuik baxter to get four bunnis of heir, with foure gang of aill, and to furneis breid ; Henry Charteris and Roger Macnacht to caus hing the hous with tapestrie, set the busdis, furmis, chandleris [candlesticks], and get flowris ; George Carketill and Rychert Doby to provyde the cupbuirds and men to keep thame ; and my Lord Provest was content to provyde naprie and twa dozen greit veschell, and to avance ane hunder pund or mair, as thai sail haif a do.' We can see here ample provision for the Knight of the Whistle, suppos- ing him to have given a challenge on the occasion. In the latter days of the Mint as an active establishment, the coining-house was in the ground-floor of the building, on the north side of the court ; in the adjoining' house, on the east side, was the linishing-house, where the money was polished and fitted for circulation. The chief instruments 250 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. used in coining' were a hammer and steel dies, upon which the device was eng-raved. The metal, being previously pre- pared of the proper fineness and thickness, was cut into longitudinal slips ; and a square piece being cut from the slip, it was afterwards rounded and adjusted to the weight of the money to be made. The blank pieces of metal were then placed between two dies, and the upper one was struck with a hammer. After the Restoration, another method was introduced — that of the mill and screw — which, modified by many improvements, is still in use. At the Union, the ceremony of destroying the dies of the Scottish coinage took place in the Mint. After being heated red hot in a furnace, they were defaced by three impressions of a broad- faced punsh — which were of course visible on the dies as long as they existed ; but it must be recorded, that all these implements, which would now have been great curiosities, are lost, and none of the machinery remains but the press, which, weighing about half a ton, was rather too large to be readily appropriated, or perhaps it would have followed the rest. The floors over the coining'-house — bearing the letters c. R. II. surmounting a crown, and the legend god save THE KING, 1674, originally the mansion of the master — • was latterly occupied by the eminent Dr CuUen, whose family were all born here, and who died here himself in 1792. [ROBERT CULLEN.] Robert Cullen, the son of the physician, made a great impression on Edinburgh society by his many delightful social qualities, and particularly his powers as a mimic of the Mathews genus. He manifested this gift in his earliest years, to the no small discomposure of his grave old father. One evening, when Dr Cullen was going to the theatre, Robert intreated to be taken along with him, but, for some reason, was condemned to remain at home. Some time after the departure of the doctor, Mrs Cullen heard him come along the passage, as if from his own room, and say, at her door, ' Well, after all, you may let Robert go.* Robert was accordingly allowed to depart for the theatre, where his appearance gave no small surprise to his father. On the old gentleman coming home, and remonstrating MINT CLOSE. 251 with his lady for allowing the boy to g'O, it was discovered that the voice which seemed to give the permission had proceeded from the young wag himself. In maturer years, Cullen could not only mimic any voice or mode of speech, hut enter so thoroughly into the nature of any man, that he could supply exactly the ideas which he was likely to use. His imitations were therefore some- thing much above mimicries — they were artistic repre- sentations of human character. He has been known, in a social company, where another individual was expected, to stand up, in the character of that person, and return thanks for the proposal of his health ; and this was done so happily, that, when the individual did arrive, and got upon his legs to speak for himself, the company was convulsed with an almost exact repetition of what Cullen had previ- ously uttered, the manner also, and every inflection of the voice, being precisely alike. In relating anecdotes, of which he possessed a vast store, he usually prefaced them with a sketch of the character of the person referred to, which greatly increased the eifect, as the story then told charac- teristically. These sketches were remarked to be extremely graphic, and most elegantly expressed. When a young man, residing with his father, he was very intimate with Dr Robertson, the Principal of the university. To show that Robertson was not likely to be easily imitated, it may be mentioned, from the re- port of a gentleman who has often heard him making public orations, that when the students observed him pause for a word, and would themselves mentally supply it, they invariably found that the word which he did use was different from that which they had hit upon. Cullen, however, could imitate him to the life, either in his more formal speeches, or in his ordinary discourse. He would often, in entering a house which the Principal was in the habit of visiting, assume his voice in the lobby and stair, and when arrived at the drawing-room door, astonish the family by turning out to be — Bob Cullen. Lord Greville, a pupil of the Principal's, having been one night detained at a protracted debauch, where Cullen was also present, the latter gentleman next morning got ad- mission to the bedroom of the young nobleman, where, personating Dr Robertson, he sat down by the bedside, and 252 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. with all tlie manner of the reverend Principal, gave him a sound lecture for having been out so late last night. Gre- ville, who had fully expected this visit, lay in remorseful silence, and allowed his supposed monitor to depart without saying a word. In the course of a quarter of an hour, how- ever, when the real Dr Robertson entered, and commenced a harangue exactly duplicating that just concluded, he could not help exclaiming that it was too bad to give it him twice over. ' Oh, I see how it is,' said Robertson, rising to depart ; * that rogue Bob CuUen must have been with you.' The Principal became at length accustomed to Bob's tricks, which he would seem, from the following anecdote, to have regarded in a friendly spirit. Being attended during an illness by Dr CuUen, it was found necessary to administer a liberal dose of laudanum. The physician, however, asked him, in the first place, in what manner laudanum affected him. Having received his answer, CuUen remarked, with surprise, that he had never known any one affected in the same way by laudanum besides his son Bob. ' Ah,' said Robertson, ' does the rascal take me off there too ? ' Mr CuUen entered at the Scottish bar in 1764, and, dis- tinguishing himself highly as a lawyer, was raised to the bench in 1796, when he took the designation of Lord CuUen. He cultivated elegant literature, and contributed some papers of acknowledged merit to the Mirror and Lounger ; but it was in conversation that he chiefly shone. The close adjoining to the Mint contains several old- fashioned houses of a dignified appearance. In a floor of one bearing the date 1679, and having a little court in front, Alexander Wedderburn, Earl of Rosslyn, and Lord Chan- cellor of England, resided while at the Scottish bar. This, as is well known, was a very brief interval ; for a veteran barrister having one day used the term ' presumptuous boy' with reference to him, and his own caustic reply having drawn upon him a rebuke from the bench, he took off his gown, and making a bow, said he would never more plead where he was subjected to insult, but would seek a wider field for his exertions. His subsequent rapid rise at the English bar is matter of history. It is told that, returning to Edinburgh at the end of his Ufe, after an absence of many years, he wished to see the house where he had lived while a Scotch advocate. Too infirm to walk, he was borne MISS NICKY MTTRRAY. 253 in a chair to the foot of the Mint Close, to see this building'. One thing he was particularly anxious about. While re- siding here, he had had five holes made in the little court, to play at some bowling game of which he was fond. He wished above all things to see these holes once more, and, when he found they were still there, he expressed much satisfaction. Churchill himself might have melted at such an anecdote of the old days of him who was ' Pert at the bar, and in the senate loud.' About midway up the close is a turreted mansion acces- sible from Hyndford's Close, and having a tolerably good garden connected with it. This was, in 1742, the residence of the Earl of Selkirk ; subsequently it was occupied by Dr Daniel Rutherford, professor of botany. Sir Walter Scott, who, being a nephew of that gentleman, was often in the house in his young days, communicated to me a curious circumstance connected with it. It appears that the house immediately adjacent was not furnished with a stair wide enough to allow of a coffin being carried down in decent fashion. It had, therefore, what the Scottish law calls a ser- vitude upon Dr Rutherford's house, conferring the perpetual liberty of bringing the deceased inmates through a passage into that house, and down its stair into the lane. A lady who remembers Edinburgh from an old time, has some recollection of a curious incident connected with the Mint Close. The funeral of a gentleman possessing one of the houses was about to take place, and amongst other arrangements, were two black-habited attendants planted sentinel-wise at the head of the alley, with tall poles bearing hoods of black cloth. A rumour came up the close that the dead man was not dead after all ; he had only been in a trance, from which he was reviving. This somewhat dis- composed the venal mourners ; who, however, quickly came to a professional view of the event. ' Dead or not dead,' cried one of them, < he'll be dead to me ! ' MISS NICKY MURRAY. The dancing assemblies of Edinburgh were, for many years, about the middle of the last century, under the direc- 254 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. tion and dictatorship of the Honourable Miss Nicky Mur- ray, one of the sisters of the Earl of Mansfield, Much good sense, firmness, knowledge of the world, and of the histories of individuals, as well as a due share of patience and benevolence, were required for this office of unrecog- nised though real power; and it was generally admitted that Miss Murray possessed the needful qualifications in a remarkable degree, though rather more marked by good manners than good nature. She and her sisters lived for many years in a floor of a large building at the head of Bailie Fife's Close — a now unhallowed locality, where, I believe, Francis Jeffrey attended his first school. In their narrow mansion, the Miss Murrays received flights of young lady cousins from the country, to be finished in their manners, and introduced into society. No light task must theirs have been, all things considered. I find a highly-significant note on the subject inserted by an old gentleman in an interleaved copy of my first edition : ' It was from Miss Nicky Murray's — a relation of the Gi'ey family — that my father ran off with my mother, then not sixteen years old.' The Assembly Room of that time was in the close where the Commercial Bank has latterly been established. First there was a lobby, where chairs were disburdened of their company, and where a reduced gentleman, with pretensions to the title of Lord Kirkcudbright — descendant of the once great Maclellans of Galloway — might have been seen selling gloves ; this being the person alluded to in a letter written by Goldsmith while a student in Edinburgh — ' One day, happening to slip into Lord Kilcobry's — don't be surprised, his lordship is only a glover ! ' The dancing-room opened directly from the lobby, and above stairs was a tea-room. The former had a railed space in the centre, within which the dancers were arranged, while the spectators sat round on the outside ; and no communication was allowed be- tween the different sides of this sacred pale. The lady- directress had a high chair or throne at one end. Before Miss Nicky Murray, Lady Elliot of Minto, and Mrs Brown of Coalstoun, wives of judges, had exercised this lofty authority, which was thought honourable on account of the charitable object of the assemblies. The arrangements were of a rigid character, and certainly tending to dulness. MISS NICKY MURRAY. 255 There being but one set allowed to dance at a time, it was seldom that any person was twice on the floor in one night. The most of the time was spent in acting the part of lookers-on; which threw great duties in the way of con- versation upon the gentlemen. These had to settle with a partner for the year, and were upon no account permitted to change, even for a single night. The appointment took place at the beginning of the season, usually at some private party or ball, given by a person of distinction, where the fans of the ladies were all put into a gentleman's cocked hat ; the gentlemen put in their hands, and took a fan ; and to whomsoever the fan belonged, that was to be his partner for the season. In the general rigours of this system, which sometimes produced ludicrous combinations, there was, however, one palliative — namely, the fans being all distinguishable from each other, and the gentleman being in general as well acquainted with the fan as the face of his mistress, and the hat being open, it was possible to peep in, and exercise, to a certain extent, a principle of selection, whereby he was perhaps successful in procuring an appointment to his mind. All this is spiritedly given in a poem of Sir Alexander Boswell. * Then were the days of modesty of mien ! Stays for the fat, and quilting for the lean ; The ribboned stomacher, in many a plait. Upheld the chest, and dignified the gait ; Some Venus, brightest planet of the train, Moved in a lustering halo, propped with cane. Then the Assembly Close received the fair — Order and elegance presided there — Each gay Right Honourable had her place. To walk a minuet with becoming grace. No racing to the dance, with rival hurry — Such was thy sway, oh famed Miss Nicky Murray! Each lady's fan a chosen Damon bore. With care selected many a day before ; For, unprovided with a favourite beau, The njTnph, chagrined, the ball must needs forego; But, previous matters to her taste arranged, Certes, the constant couple never changed ; Through a long night, to watch fair Delia's will, The same duU swain was at her elbow still.' A little before Miss Nicky's time, it was customary for gentlemen to walk alongside the chairs of their partners, with their swords by their sides, and so escort them home. They called next afternoon upon their Dulcineas, to inquire 256 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. how they were, and drink tea. The fashionable time tor seeing company in those days was the evening-, when people were all abroad upon the street, as in the forenoon now, making- calls, and shopping. The people who attended the assemblies were very select. Moreover, they were all known to each other ; and the introduction of a stranger re- quired nice preliminaries. It is said that Miss Murray, on hearing a young lady's name pronounced for the first time, would say, ' Miss of what?' If no territorial addition could be made, she manifestly cooled. Upon one occasion, seeing a man at the assembly who was born in a low situa- tion, and raised to wealth in some humble trade, she went up to him, and, without the least deference to his fine-laced coat, taxed him with presumption in coming there, and turned him out of the room. Major Topham praises the regularity and propriety ob- served at the assemblies, though gently insinuating their heaviness. He says — ' I was never at an assembly where the authority of the manager was so observed or respected. With the utmost politeness, affability, and good-humour, Miss Murray attends to every one. All petitions are heard, and demands granted, which appear reasonable. The com- pany is so much the more obliged to Miss Murray, as the task is by no means to be envied. The crowd which im- mediately surrounds her on entering the room, the impetu- ous applications of chaperons, maiden-aunts, and the earnest intreaties of lovers to obtain a ticket in one of the first sets for the dear object, render the fatigue of the office of lady- directress almost intolerable.' Early hours were kept in those days, and the stinted time was never exceeded. When the proper hour arrived for dissolving the party, and the young people would crowd round the throne to petition for one other set, up rose Miss Nicky in unrelenting rigidity of figure, and with one wave of her fan silenced the musicians — • Quick from the summit of the grove they fell. And left it inharmoiuou&' THE NETHERBOW. John Knox's Manse— Lady Maxwell of Monreith. The lower portion of the Hig'li Street, including the Netherbow, was, till a recent time, remarkable for the anti- quity of the greater number of the buildings, insomuch that no equal portion of the city was more distinctly a memorial of the general appearance of the whole, as it was in the latter part of the sixteenth, and earlier portion of the seventeenth centuries. On the north side of the High Street, immediately adjacent to the Nethei-bow, there was a nest of tall wooden-fronted houses, of one character, and the age of which generally might be guessed from the date existing upon one — 1562. This formed a perfect example of the Hi(/h Gait, as it appeared to Queen Mary, excepting that the open booths below had been converted into close shops. TUhe fore-stairs — that is, outside stairs ascending to ihe^rstjloor (technically so called), from which the women of Edinburgh reviled the hapless queen, as she I'ode along the street after her surrender at Carberry — were unchanged in this little district. The popular story regarding houses of this kind is, that they took their origin in an inconvenience which was felt in having the Boroughmoor covered with wood, as it proved, from that circumstance, a harbour for robbers. To banish the robbers, it was necessary to extirpate the wood. To get this done, the magistrates granted leave to the citizens to project their house-fronts seven feet into the street, pro- vided they should execute the work with timber cut from the Boroughmoor. Robert Fergusson follows up this story in a burlesque poem, by relating how, consequently, ' Edina's mansions with lignarian art Were piled and fronted. Like an ark she seemed To lie on mountain's top, with shapes replete, Clean and unclean To Jove the Dryads prayed, nor prayed in vain. For vengeance on her sons. At midnight drear Black showers descend, and teeming myriads rise Of bugs abhorrent ' The only authentic information to be obtained on the point is presented by Maitland, when he tells us that the clearing of the Boroughmoor of timber took place in consequence of VOL. VI. Q 258 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. a charter from James IV. in 1508. He says nothing- of robbers, but attributes the permission granted by the magis- trates for the making' of wooden projections merely to their desire of getting sale for their timber. After all, I am in- clined to trace this fashion mainly to taste. The wooden fronts appear to have oi'iginated in open galleries — an arrang-ement often spoken of in early writings. These, being- closed up, or formed into a range of windows, would produce the wooden-fronted house. It is remarkable that the wooden fronts do not, in many instances, bear the appearance of afterthoughts, as the stone structure within often shows such an arrangement of the fore wall, as seems designed to connect the projecting part with the chambers within, or to give these chambers as much as possible of the borrowed light. At the same time, it is somewhat puzzling to find, in the closes below the buildings, gateways with hooks for hinges seven feet or so from the present street- front — an arrang-ement which does not appear necessary on the supposition that the houses were built designedly with a stone interior and a wooden projection. [jOHN KNOX'S MANSE.] In the Netherbow, the street receives a contraction from the advance of the houses on the north side, thus closing a species of parallelogram, of which the Luckenbooths formed the upper extremity — the market-place of our ancient city. The uppermost of the prominent houses — having of course two fronts meeting in a right angle, one fronting to the line of street, the other looking up the High Street — is pointed to by tradition as the residence or manse of John Knox, during his incumbency as minister of Edinburgh, from 1560 till (with few interruptions) his death in 1572. It is a picturesque building, of three above-ground floors, constructed of substantial ashler masonry, but on a some- what small scale, and terminating in curious gables and masses of chimneys. A narrow door, right in the angle, gives access to a small room, which has long been occupied as a barber's shop, and which is lighted by one long window presented to the westward. This was the hall of the man- sion in former times. Over the window and door is this legend, in an unusually old kind of lettering : — LVFE • GOD ■ ABVFE • AL • AND • VI ' NYCHTBOVR • [AS '] YI • SELF • THE NETHEEBOW. 259 The word * as' is obliterated. The words are, in modern English, simply the well-known scriptural command, ' Love ■God above all, and thy neighbour as thyself.' Perched upon the corner above the door is a small effigj of the Re- former, preaching in a pulpit, and pointing with his right hand to a stone above his head in that direction, which presents in rude sculpture the sun bursting from clouds, with the name of the Deity inscribed on his disk in three languages. eEos UE U S GOD Dr M'Crie, in his Life of John Knox, states that the Reformer, on commencing duty in Edinburgh at the con- clusion of the strug-g'les with the queen-regent, ' lodged in the house of David Forrest, a burgess of Edinburgh, from which he removed to the lodging which had belonged to Durie, abbot of Dunfermline.' The magistrates acted liberally towards their minister, giving him a salary of two hundred pounds Scottish money, and paying his house-rent for him, at the rate of fifteen merks yearly. In October 1561, they ordained the dean of guild, ' with al diligence, to mak ane warm studye of dailies to the minister, Johne Knox, within his hous, aboue the hall of the same, with lyht and wyndokis thereunto, and all uther necessaris.' This study is generally supposed to have been a very small wooden projection, of the kind described a few pages back, still seen on the front of the first floor. Close to it is a window in the angle of the building, from which Knox is said by tradition to have occasionally held forth to mul- titudes below. The second floor, which is accessible by two narrow spiral staii's, one to the south, another to the west, contains a tolerably spacious room, with a ceiling ornamented by stucco mouldings, and a window presented to the westward. A j3artition has at one time divided this room from a narrow one towards the north, the ceiling of which is composed of the beams and flooring of the attic flat, all curiously painted with flower-work in an ancient taste. Two inferior rooms extend still farther to the northward. It is to be remarked that the wooden projection already spoken of extends up to this floor, so that there is here likewise a small room in 260 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. front ; it contains a fireplace, and a recess which might have been a cupboard or a library, besides two small win- dows. That this fireplace, this recess, and also the door by which the wooden chamber is entered from the decorated room, should all be formed in the front wall of the house, and with a necessary relation to the wooden projection, sti'ikes one as difficult to reconcile with the idea of that projection being an afterthought ; the appearances rather indicate the whole having been foi'med at once, as parts of one design. The attic floor exhibits strong oaken beams, but the flooring is in bad order. In the lower part of the house there is a small room, said by tradition to have been used in times of difficulty for the purpose of baptising children ; there is also a well to supply the house with water, besides a secret stair, represented as communicating subterraneously with a neighbouring alley. From the size of this house, and the variety of accesses to it, it becomes tolerably certain that Knox could have only occupied a portion of it. The question arises, which part did he occupy ? Probability seems decidedly in favour of the Jirst Jloor — that containing the window from which he is traditionally said to have preached, and where his effigy appears. An authentic fact in the Reformer's life favours this supposition. When under danger from the hostility of the queen's party in the castle — in the spring of 1571 — 'one evening a musket ball was fired in at his window, and lodged in the roof of the apartment in which he was sitting. It happened that he sat at the time in a different part of the room from that which he had been accustomed to occupy, otherwise the ball, from the direction it took, must have struck him.' — JWCrie. The second floor is too high to have admitted of a musket being fired in at one of the windows. A ball fired in at the ground- floor would not have struck the ceiling. The only feasible supposition in the case is, that the Reformer dwelt in the Jirst Jloor, which was not beyond an assassin's aim, and yet at such a height, that a ball fired from the street would hit the ceiling. [lady maxwell of monreith.] In Hyndford's Close, near the bottom of the High Street ^-first entry in the close, and second door up stairs — dwelt, THE NETHERBOW. 261 about the beginning of the reign of George III., Lady Maxwell of Monreith, and there brought up her beautiful daughters, one of whom became Duchess of Gordon. The house had a dark passage, and the kitchen door was passed in going to the dining'-room, according to an agreeable old practice in Scotch houses, which lets the guests know on €ntering what they have to expect. The fineries of Lady Maxwell's daughters were usually hung up, after washing, on a screen in this passage, to dry ; while the coarser articles of dress, such as shifts and petticoats, were slung decently out of sight at the window, upon a projecting con- trivance similar to a dyer's pole, of which numerous speci- mens still exist at windows in the Old Town, for the con- venience of the poorer inhabitants. So easy and familiar were the manners of the great in those times, fabled to be so stiff and decorous, that Miss Eglintoune, afterwards Lady Wallace, used to be sent with the tea-kettle across the sti-eet to the Fountain Well for water to make tea. Lady Maxwell's daughters were the wildest romps imaginable. An old gentleman, who was their relation, told me that the first time he saw these beautiful girls was in the High Street, where INIiss Jane, afterwards Duchess of Gordon, was riding upon a sow, which Miss Eglintoune thumped lustily behind with a stick. It must be understood that, sixty years since, vagrant swine went as commonly about the streets of Edinburgh as dogs do in our own day, and were more gene- rally fondled as pets by the children of the last generation.* It may, however, be remarked, that the sows upon which the Duchess of Gordon and her witty sister rode, when children, were not the common vagrants of the High Street, but belonged to Peter Ramsay, of the inn in St Mary's Wynd, and were among the last that were permitted to roam abroad. The two romps used to watch the animals as they were let loose in the forenoon from the stable-yard ^ where they lived among the horse-litter), and get upon their backs the moment they issued from the close. * The following advertisement, inserted in the Edinburgh Courant of August 1, 1754, illustrates the above in a striking manner:— 'If any person, has lost a large sow, let them call at the house of Robert Fiddes, gardener to Lord Minto, over against the Earl of Galloway's, in the Horse Wynd, where, upon proving the property, paying expenses and damages done by the «aid sow, they may have the same restored-' 262 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. The extraordinary cleverness, the g'enuine wit, and the delightful abandon of Lady Wallace, made an extraordinary impression on Scottish society in her day. It almost seemed as if some faculty divine had inspired her. A mil- liner, bringing home a cap to her when she was just about to set off to the Leith races, was so unlucky as tear it against the buckle of a porter's knee in the street. * No matter,' said her ladyship ; and instantly putting it on, restored all to grace by a single pin. The cap, thus mis- arranged, was found so perfectly exquisite, that ladies tore their caps on nails, and pinned them on, in the hope of imitating it. It was, however, a grace beyond the reach of art. Of the many hon mots attributed to her, one alone seems worthy, from its being unhackneyed, of appearing here. The son of Mr Kincaid, king's printer — a great Maccaroni, as the phrase went ; that is, dandy — was nicknamed, from his father's lucrative patent. Young Bibles. This beau entering a ballroom one evening, some of the company asked who was that extraordinary-looking young man. ' Only Young Bibles,' quoth Lady Wallace, ' bound in calf^ and gilt, but not lettered ! ' HOUSE OP THE MARQUISES OF TWEEDDALE —THE BEGBIE TRAGEDY. The town mansion of the Marquises of Tweeddale wai one of large extent and dimensions, in a court which still bears the title of that family, nearly opposite to the man- sion of John Knox. AYhen John, the fourth marquis, was Secretary of State for Scotland, in the reign of George II., this must have been a dwelling of considerable importance in the eyes of his countrymen. It had a good garden in the rear, with a yard and coach entry from the Cowgate. Now, all the buildings and 'pertinents' are in the occupa- tion of Messrs Oliver and Boyd, the well-known pub- lishers. The passage from the street into Tweeddale Court is nar- row and dark, and about fifteen yards in length. Here, in 1806, when the mansion was possessed as a banking-house THE BEGBIE TRAGEBY. 263 by the British Linen Company, there took place an extra- ordinary tragedy. About five o'clock of the evening of the 13th of November, when the short mid-winter day had just closed, a child who lived in a house accessible from the close was sent by her mother, with a kettle, to obtain a supply of water for tea from the neighbouring well. The little girl, stepping with the kettle in her hand out of the public stair into the close, stumbled in the dark over some- thing which lay there, and which proved to be the body of a man just expiring. On an alarm being given, it was dis- covered that this was "William Begbie, a porter connected with the bank, in whose heart a knife was stuck up to the haft, so that he bled to death before uttering a word which might tend to explain the dismal transaction. He was at the same time found to have been robbed of a package of notes to the value of above four thousand pounds, which he had been intrusted, in the course of his ordinary duty, to carry from the branch of the bank at Leith to the head- ofSce.* The blow had been given with an accuracy, and a calculation of consequences, showing the most appalling deliberation in the assassin ; for not only was the knife lirected straight into the most vital part, but its handle had oeen muffled in a bunch of soft paper, so as to prevent, as was thought, any sprinkling of blood from reaching the person of the murderer, by which he might have been, by some chance, detected. The knife was one of those with broad thin blades and wooden handles which are used for cutting bread, and its rounded front had been ground to a point, apparently for the execution of this horrible deed. The unfortunate man left a wife and four children to bewail his loss. The singular nature and circumstances of Begbie's mur- der occasioned much excitement in the public mind, and every effort was of course made to discover the guilty party. No house of a suspicious character in the city was left un- searched, and parties were despatched to watch and patrol all the various roads leading out into the country. The * The notes are thus described in the Hue and C?-.v.— £1300 in twenty- pound notes of Sir W. Forbes and Company; £l(H)0 in twenty-pound notes of the Leith Banking Company ; £1400 in twenty, ten, and five-pound notes of different banks ; 240 guinea and 440 pound notes of different banks — in all, £4392. 264 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. bank offered a reward of five hundred pounds for such in- formation as might lead to the conviction of the offender or offenders ; and the g-overnment further promised the king's pardon to any except the actual murderer, who, having been concerned in the deed, might discover their accom- plices. The sheriff of Edinburgh, Mr Clerk Rattray, dis- played the greatest zeal in his endeavours to ascertain the circumstances of the murder, and to detect and seize the murderer, but with surprisingly little success. All that could be ascertained was, that Begbie, in proceeding up Leith Walk on his fatal mission, had been accompanied by ' a man ; ' and that, about the supposed time of the murder, ' a man ' had been seen by some children to run out of the close into the street, and down Leith Wynd, a lane leading off from the Netherbow at a point nearly opposite to the close. There was also reason to believe that the knife had been bought in a shop about two o'clock on the day of the murder, and that it had been afterwards ground upon a grinding-stone, and smoothed on a hone. A number of suspicious characters were apprehended and examined ; but all, with one exception, produced satisfactory proofs of their innocence. The exception was a carrier between Perth and Edinburgh, a man of dissolute and irregular habits, of great bodily strength, and known to be a dangerous and desperate character. He was kept in custody for a considerable time on suspicion, having been seen in the Canongate, near the scene of the murder, a very short time after it was com- mitted. It has since been ascertained that he was then going about a different business, the disclosure of which would have subjected him to a capital punishment. It was in consequence of the mystery he felt himself impelled to preserve on this subject, that he was kept so long in cus- tody; but at length facts and circumstances came out to warrant his discharge, and he was discharged accordingly. Months rolled on, without eliciting any evidence respect- ing the murder, and, like other wonders, it had ceased in a great measure to engage public attention, when, on the 10th of August 1807, a journeyman mason, in company with two other men, passing through the Bellevue grounds in the neighbourhood of the city, found, in a hole in a stone enclosure, by the side of a hedge, a parcel containing a large quantity of bank-notes, bearing the appearance of having THE BEGBIE TRAGEDY. 265 been a good while exposed to the weather. Aftei* consult- ing' a little, the men carried the package to the sheriff's office, where it was found to contain about £3000 in large notes, being those which had been taken from Begbie. The British Linen Company rewarded the men with two hun- dred pounds for their honesty ; but the circumstance passed without throwing any light on the murder itself. Up to the present day, the murderer of Begbie has not been discovered ; nor is it probable, after the space of time which has elapsed (forty years), that he ever will be so. It is most likely that the grave has long closed upon him. The only person on whom public suspicion alighted with any force during the sixteen years ensuing upon the trans- action, was a medical practitioner in Leith, a dissolute man, and a gambler, who put an end to his own existence not long after the murder. But I am not acquainted with any particular circumstances on which this suspicion was groimded, beyond the suicide, which might spring from other causes. It was not till 1822 that any further light was thrown on this mysterious case. In a work then pub- lished, under the title of The Life and Trial of James Mackoull, there was included a paper by Mr Denovan, the Bow Street officer, the object of which was to prove that Mackoull was the murderer, and which contained at least one very curious statement. Mr Denovan had discovered in Leith a man, then acting as a teacher, but who, in 1806, was a sailor boy, and who had witnessed some circumstances immediately connected with the murder. The man's statement was as follows : — ' I was at that time (November 1806) a boy of fourteen years of age. The vessel to which I belonged had made a voyage to Lisbon, and was then lying in Leith harbour. I had brought a small present from Portugal for my mother and sistei', who resided in the Netherbow, Edinburgh, imme- diately opposite to Tweeddale's Close, leading to the British Linen Company's Bank. I left the vessel late in the after- noon, and as the articles I had brought were contraband, I put them under my jacket, and was proceeding up Leith Walk, when I perceived a tall man carrying a yellow- coloured parcel under his arm, and a genteel man, dressed in a black coat, dogging him. I was a little afraid : I con- ceived the man who carried the parcel to be a smuggler, 266 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. and the g'entleman who followed him to be a custom-house or excise officer. In dog-g'ing- the man, the supposed officer went from one side of the AValk to the other [the Walk is a broad street], as if afraid of being' noticed, but still kept about the same distance behind him. I was afraid of losing* what I carried, and shortened sail a little, keeping my eyes fixed on the person I supposed to be an officer, until I came to the head of Leith Street, when I saw the smuggler take the North Bridge, and the custom-house officer go in front of the Register-Office ; here he looked round him, and imagin- ing he was looking for me, I hove to, and watched him. He then looked up the North Bridge, and, as I conceive, fol- lowed the smuggler, for he went the same way. I stood a minute or two where I was, and then went forwai'd, walk- ing slowly up the North Bridge. I did not, however, see either of the men before me : and when I came to the south end or head of the Bridge, supposing that they might have gone up the High Street, or along the South Bridge, I turned to the left, and reached the Netherbow, without again seeing either the smuggler or the officer. Just, how- ever, as I came opposite to Tweeddale's Close, I saw the custom-house offiecr come running out of it, with something tinder his coat : I think he ran down the street. Being" much alarmed, and supposing that the officer had also seen me, and knew what I carried, I deposited my little present in my mother's with all possible speed, and made the best of my way to Leith, without hearing anything of the mur- der of Begbie until next day. On coming on board the vessel, I told the mate what a narrow escape I conceived I had made : he seemed somewhat alarmed (having probably, like myself, smuggled some trifling article from Portugal), and told me in a peremptory tone that I should not go ashore again without first acquainting him. I certainly heard of the murder before I left Leith, and concluded that the man I saw was the murderer ; but the idea of waiting on a magistrate and communicating what I had seen nevei* struck me. We sailed in a few days thereafter from Leith ; and the vessel to which I belonged having been captured by a privateer, I was carried to a French prison, and only regained my liberty at the last peace. I can now recollect distinctly the figure of the man I saw ; he was well dressed, had a genteel appearance, and wore a black coat. I never THE BEGBIE TRAGEDY. 267 gaw his face properly, for he was before me the whole way up the Walk ; I think, however, he was a stout big" man, but not so tall as the man I then conceived to be a smuggler.' This description of the supposed custom-house officer coincides exactly with that of the appearance of Mackoull ; and other cii'cumstances are given which almost make it certain that he was the murderer. This Mackoull was a London rogue of unparalleled effrontery and dexterity, who for years haunted Scotland, and effected some daring rob- beries. He resided in Edinburgh from September 1805 till the close of 1806, and during- that time frequented a coffee- house in the Ship Tavern at Leith. He professed to be a merchant expelled by the threats of the French from Ham- burg, and to live by a new mode of dyeing skins, but in reality he practised the arts of a gambler and a pickpocket. He had a mean lodging at the bottom of New Street in the Canongate, near the scene of the murder of Begbie, and to which it is remarkable that Leith Wi/nd was the readiest as well as most private access from that spot. No suspicion, however, fell upon Mackoull at this period, and he left the country for a number of years, at the end of which time he visited Glasgow, and there effected a robbery of one of the banks. For this crime he did not escape the law. He was broug-ht to trial at Edinburgh in 1820, was condemned to be executed, but died in jail while under reprieve from his sentence. The most striking part of the evidence which Mr Denovan adduces against Mackoull, is the report of a conversation which he had with that person in the condemned cell of the Edinburgh Jail, in July 1820, when Mackoull was very doubtful of being- reprieved. To pursue his own nar- rative, which is in the third person : — ' He told Captain Sibbald [the superior of the prison] that he intended to ask Mackoull a sing-le question relative to the murder of Begbie, but would first humour him by a few jokes, so as to throw him off his guard, and prevent him from thinking he had called for any particular purpose [it is to be observed that Mr Denovan had a professional acquaintance with the con- demned man] ; but desired Captain Sibbald to watch the features of the prisoner when he (Denovan) put his hand to his chin, for he would then put the question he meant. 268 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. After talking- some time on diflPerent topics, Mr Denovan put this very simple question to the prisoner — " By the way, Mackoull, if I am correct, you resided at the foot of New Street, Canong'ate, in November 1806 — did you not?" He stared — he rolled his eyes, and, as if falling into a con- vulsion, threw himself back upon his bed. In this condition he continued for a few moments, when, as if recollecting' himself, he started up, exclaiming wildly, " No, ! I was then in the East Indies — in the West Indies. What do you mean?" " I mean no harm, Mackoull," he replied ; " I merely asked the question for my own curiosity ; for I think when you left these lodgings, you went to Dublin. Is it not so?" "Yes, yes, I went to Dublin," he replied; " and I wish I had remained there still. I won £10,000 there at the tables, and never knew what it was to want cash, although you wished the folks here to believe that they locked me up in Old Start (Newgate), and brought down your friend Adkins to swear he saw me there : this was more than your duty." He now seemed to rave, and lose all temper, and his visitor bade him good night, and left him.' It appears extremely probable, from the strong circum- stantial evidence which has been offered by Mr Denovan, that Mackoull was the murderer of Begbie. One remaining fact regarding the Netherbow will be listened to with some interest. It was the home — perhaps the native spot — of William Falconer, the author of The Shipwreck, whose father was a wigmaker in this street. GRAYFRIARS' CHURCHYARD. Signing of the Covenant— Henderson's Monument— Bothwell Bridge Prisoners — A Romance. This old cemetery — the burial-place of Buchanan,* Oeorge Jameson the painter. Principal Robertson, Dr * A BkuU, represented as Buchanan's, has long been shown in the College of Edinburgh. It is extremely thin, and being long ago shown in company with that of a known idiot, which was, on the contrary, very thick, it seemed to form a commentary upon the popular expression, which sets forth density of bone as an invariable accompaniment of paucity of brain. The .author of a diatribe, called Scotland Characterised, which was published in GRAYFRIARS' CHURCHYARD. 26& Blair, Allan Ramsay, Henry Mackenzie, and many other men of note — whose walls are a circle of aristocratic sepul- chres, will ever be memorable as the scene of the Signing" of the Covenant ; the document having first been produced in the church, after a sermon by Alexander Henderson, and signed by all the congregation, from the Earl of Sutherland downward, after which it was handed out to the multitudes assembled in the kirkyard, and signed on the flat monu- ments, amidst tears, prayers, and aspirations which could find no words ; some writing with their blood ! Near by, resting well from all these struggles, lies the preacher under a square obelisk-like monument; near also rests, in equal peace, the Covenant's enemy, Sir George Mackenzie. The inscriptions on Henderson's stone were ordered by parlia- ment to be erased at the Restoration ; and holes are pointed out in it as having been inflicted by bullets from the sol- diery when executing this order. With the '88 came a new order of things, and the inscriptions were then quietly reinstated. [bothwell bridge prisoners.] As if there had been some destiny in the matter, the Grayfriars' Churchyard became connected with another re- markable event in the religious troubles of the seventeenth century. At the south-west angle, accessible by an old gateway bearing emblems of mortality, and which is fitted with an ii'on-rail gate of veiy old workmanship, is a kind of supplement to the burying-ground — an oblong space, now having a line of sepulchral enclosures on each side, but for- merly empty. On these enclosures the visitor may remark, as he passes, certain names venerable in the history of science and of letters ; as, for instance, Joseph Black, and Alexander Tytler. On one he sees the name of Gilbert Innes of Stow, who left a million, to take six feet of earth here. These, however, do not form the matter in point. Every lesser particular becomes trivial beside the extraor- 1701, and may be found in the Harleian Miscellany, tells us that he had seen the skull in question, and that it bore ' a very pretty distich upon it * — the first line I have forgot, but the second was " Et decus es tumulo jam, Buchanane, tuo." ' * The composition of Principal Adamson, who had caused the skull to be lifted. 270 TRADITIONS OF KBINBTJRGH. dinary use to which the place was put by the government in the year 1679. Several hundred of the prisoners taken at Bothwell Bridg'e were confined here in the open air, under circumstances of pi'ivation now scarce credible. They had hardly anything- either to lie upon or to cover them ; their allowance of provision was four ounces of bread per day, with water derived fi"om one of the city pipes, which passed near the place. They were guarded by day by eight, and through the night by twenty-four men ; and the soldiers were told that if any prisoner escaped, they should answer it life for life by cast of dice. If any prisoner rose from the ground by night, he was shot at. Women alone were permitted to commune with them, and bring them food or clothes ; but these had often to stand at the entrance from morning till night without getting access, and were frequently insulted and maltreated by the soldiers, without the prisoners being able to protect them, although in many oases related by the most endearing ties. In the course of several weeks a considerable number of the prisoners had been liberated upon signing a bond, in which they pro- mised never again to take up arms against the king, or without his authority ; but it appears that about four hun- dred, refusing mercy on such terms, were kept in this frightful bivouac for five months, being only allowed, at the approach of winter, to have shingle huts erected over them, which was boasted of as a great mercy. Finally, on the 15th of November, a remnant, numbering two hundred and fifty-seven, were put on board a ship to be sent to Bar- badoes. The vessel was wrecked on one of the Orkney islands, when only about forty came ashore alive. From the gloom of this sad history there is shed one ray of romance. Amongst the charitable women of Edinburgh who came to administer to the prisoners, there was one attended by a daughter ; a young, and, at least by right of romance, a fair girl. Every few days they approached this iron gate with food and clothes, either from their own stores, or collected among neighbours. Between the young lady and one of the juvenile prisoners an attachment sprung up. Doubtless she loved him for the dangers he had passed in so good a cause, and he loved her because she pitied them. In happier daj'-s, long after, when their constancy had been well tried by an exile which he suffered in the STOllY OF MRS MACFARLANE. 271 plantations, this pair were married, and settled in Edin- burgh, where they had sons and daug-hters. A respectable elderly citizen tells me he is descended from them. STORY OF MRS MACFARLANE. ' Let them say I am romantic ; so is every one said to be that either admires a fine thing or does one. On my conscience, as the world goes, 'tis hardly worth anybody's while to do one for the honour of it. Glory, the only pay of generous actions, is now as ill paid as other just debts ; and neither Mrs Macfarland for immolating her lover, nor you for constancy to your lord, must ever hope to be compared to Lucretia or Portia.' — Pope to Lady Mary W. Montagu. Pope here alludes to a tragical incident which took place in Edinburgh on the 2d of October 1716. The victim was a young Englishman, who had been sent down to Scotland as a Commissioner of Customs. It appears that Squire Cay ley, or Captain Cay ley, as he was alternatively called, had become the slave of a shameful passion towards Mrs Macfarlane, a woman of uncommon beauty, the wife of Mr John Macfarlane, writer to the sig'net in Edinburgh. One Saturday forenoon, Mrs Macfarlane was exposed, by the treachery of Captain Cayley's landlady, with whom she was acquainted, to an insult of the most atrocious kind on his part, in the house where he lodg-ed, which seems to have been situated in a close in the Cowgate, opposite to what were called the Back Stairs. Next Tuesday, Mr Cayley waited upon Mrs Macfarlane at her own house, and was shown into the drawing-room. According' to an account given out by his friends, he was anxious to apologise for his former rudeness. From another account, it would appear that he had circulated reports derogatory to the lady's honour, which she was resolved to punish. A third story represents him as having repeated the insult which he had formerly offered ; whereupon she went into another room, and presently came back with a pair of pistols in her hand. On her bidding him leave the house instantly, he said, * What, madam, d'ye design to act a comedy ?' To which she answered, that ^lie would Jind it a tragedy if he did not retire.^ The infatuated man not obeying her command, she fired one of the pistols, which, however, only wounded him slightly in the left wrist, the bullet slanting down into the 272 TRADITIONS OF EDINBTJIIGH. floor. The mere instinct, probably, of self-preservation^ caused him to draw his sword ; but before he could use it, she fired the other pistol, the shot of which penetrated his heart. ' This dispute,' says a letter of the day, ' was so close, that Mr Cayley's shirt was burnt at the sleeves with the fire of one of the pistols, and his cravat and the breast of his shirt with the fire of the other.'* Mrs Macfarlane immediately left the room, locking the door upon the dead body, and sent a servant for her husband, who was found at a neighbouring- tavern. On his coming home, about an hour after, she took him by the sleeve, and leading him into the room where the corpse lay, explained the circumstances which had led to the bloody act, Mr Macfarlane said, * Oh, woman! what have you done?' But soon seeing the necessity for prompt measures, he went out again to consult with some of his friends. * They all advised,' says the letter just quoted, ' that he should convey his wife away privately, to prevent her lying in jail, till a precog- nition should be taken of the affair, and it should appear in its true light. Accordingly' [about six o'clock], ' she walked down the High Street, followed by her husband at a little distance, and now absconds. ' The thing continued a profound secret to all except those concerned in the house, till past ten at night, when Mr Macfarlane, having provided a safe retreat for his wife, returned and gave orders for discovering it to the magis- trates, who went and viewed the body of the deceased, and secured the house and maid, and all else who may become evidence of the fact.' Another contemporary says, ' I saw his [Cayley's] corpse after he was cereclothed, and saw his blood where he lay on the floor for twenty-four hours after he died, just as he fell ; so it was a difficulty to straight him.' A careful investigation was made into every circumstance connected with this fatal affair, but without demonstrating anything except the passionate rashness or magnanimity of the fair homicide. Mr Macfarlane was discharged upon his own affirmation that he knew nothing of the deed till after it had taken place. A pamphlet was published by Mrs Murray, Mr Cayley's landlady, who seems to have kept a * The pistols belonged to Mr Cayley himself, having been borrowed a few days before by Mr Macfarlane. STORY OF MRS MACFARLANE. 273 grocery shop in the Cowg-ate, vindicating herself from the imputation which Mrs Macfarlane's tale had thrown upon her character ; but to this there appeared an answer, from some friend of the other party, in which the imputation was fixed almost beyond the possibility of doubt. Mrs Murray denied that Mrs Macfarlane had been in her house on the Saturday before the murder ; but evidence was given that she was seen issuing from the close in which Mrs Murray re- sided, and, after ascending the Back Stairs, was observed pass- ing through the Parliament Square towards her own house. It will surprise every one to learn that this Scottish Lucrece was a woman of only nineteen or twenty years of age, and some months enceinte, at the time when she so boldly vindicated her honour. She was a person of re- spectable connexions, being a daughter of Colonel Charles Straiten, ' a gentleman of great honour,' says one of the letters already quoted, and who further appears to have been intrusted with high negotiations by the Jacobites during the reign of Queen Anne. By her mother, she was grand- daughter to Sir Andrew Forrester. Of the future history of Mrs Macfarlane we have but one glimpse, but it is of a romantic nature. Margaret Swinton, who was the aunt of Sir Walter Scott's mother, and round whom he and his boy brothers used to close, to listen to her tales, remembered being one Sunday left by her parents at home in their house of Swinton in Berwickshire, while the rest of the family attended church. Tiring of the solitude of her little nursery, she stole quietly down stairs to the par- lour, which she entered somewhat abruptly. There, to her surprise, she beheld the most beautiful woman she had ever seen sitting at the breakfast table making tea. She believed it could be no other than one of those enchanted queens whom she had heard of in fairy tales. The lady, after a pause of surprise, came up to her with a sweet smile, and conversed with her, concluding- with a request that she would speak only to her mamma of the stranger whom she had seen. Presently after, little Margaret having turned her back for a few moments, the beautiful vision had vanished. The whole appeared like a dream. By and by the family returned, and INIargai'et took her mother aside, that she might talk of this wonderful apparition. Mrs Swinton applauded her for thus observing the injunc- VOL. VI. R 274 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. tiou whicli had been laid upon her. ' Had you not,' she added, ' it might have cost that lady her life.' Subsequent explanations made Margaret aware that she had seen the unfortunate Mrs Macfarlane, who, having some claim of kindred upon the Swinton family, had been received by them, and kept in a secret room, till such time as she could venture to make her way out of the country. On Margaret looking away for a moment, the lady had glided by a sliding panel into her Patmos behind the wainscot, and thus un- wittingly increased the child's apprehension of the whole being an event out of the course of nature. THE CANONGATE. Distinguished Inhabitants in Former Times— Story of a Burning- Morocco's Land — New Street. Thb Canongate, which takes its name from the Augus- tine canons of Holyrood (who were permitted to build it by the charter of David I. in 1128, and afterwards ruled it as a burgh of regality), was formerly the court end of the town. As the main avenue from the palace into the city, it has borne upon its pavement the burden of all that was beautiful, all that was gallant, all that has become histo- rically interesting, in Scotland, for the last six or seven hundred years. It still presents an antique appearance, although many of the houses are modernised. There is one with a date from Queen Mary's reign,* and many may be guessed, from their appearance, to be of even an earlier era. Previously to the Union, when the palace ceased to be occa- sionally inhabited, as it had formerly been, by at least the vicar of majesty, in the person of the Commissioner to the Parliament, the place was densely inhabited by persons of distinction. Allan Ramsay, in lamenting the death of Lucky Wood, says — ' Oh, Canigate, puir elrich hole. What loss, what crosses does thou thole ! London and death gars thee look droll, And hing thy head ; Wow hut thou has e'en a cauld coal To blaw indeed ; ' and mentions, in a note, that this place was ' the greatest * A little below the church. THE CANONGATE. 275 sufferer by the loss of our members of parliament, which London now enjoys, many of them having had their houses there;' a fact which Maitland confirms. Innumerable traces are to be found, in old songs and ballads, of the ele- gant population of the Canongate in a former day. In the piteous tale of Marie Hamilton — one of the Queen's Maries — occurs this simple but picturesque stanza — • As she cam doun the Cannogait, The Cannogait sae free, Mony a lady looked owre her window, Weeping for this lad3'e.' An old popular rhyme expresses the hauteur of these Canon- gate dames towards their city neighbours of the male sex — ' The lasses o' the Canongate, Oh they are wond'rous nice ; They winna gie a single kiss But for a double price. Gar hang them, gar hang them, Hich upon a tree ; For we'll get better up the gate For a bawbee ! ' Even in times comparatively modern, this fauxbourg was inhabited by persons of very great consideration.* * Subjoined is a list of persons of note who lived in the Canongate in the early days of the late Mr Chalmers Izett, whose memory extended back to 1769 :— BARONETS. EMINENT MEN. Sir J. Grant Adam Smith Sir J. Suttie Dr Young Sir J. Whiteford Dugald Stewart Sir J. Stewart Dr Gardner Sir J. Stirling Dr Gregory. Sir J. Sinclair, Glorat Sir J. Halkett bank. Sir James Stirling Douglas, Heron, & Sir D. Hay Company. Sir B. Dunbar Sir J. Scott, Ancrimi ladies' board- Bir R. Anstruther ing-school. SirJ. Sinclair, Ulbster. Mrs Hamilton, Chessels's Court. commanders- in-chief. PRINCIPAI, inns. General Oughton Ramsay's, St General Skene Blary's AVynd. Lord A. Gordon Boyd's, Head of Lord Moira. Canongate. ' Two coaches went do'wn the Canongate to Leith — one hour in going, and one hour in returning.' ' DUKES. COUNTESSES. Hamilton Tweeddale Queensberrj'. Lothian. EARLS. LORDS. Breadalbane Haddo HjTidford Colvill Wemyss Blantyre Balcarras Nairn Moray Semple Dalhousie A. Gordon Haddington Cranstoun. Marr Strathmore L. OF SESSION. Traquair Eskgrove Selkirk Hailes Dimdonald Prestongrange Kintore Karnes Dunmore MUton Seafield Montgomery Panmure. Bannatyne. 276 TKADITIONS OF EDINBTTRGH. Within the raemoiy of a lady living- in 1830, it used to be a common thing to hear, among othei* matters of gossip, * that there was to he a hraio Jiitting* in the Canongate to- morrow ;' and parties of young people were made up, to go and see the fine furniture brought out, sitting perhaps for hours in the windows of some friend on the opposite side of the street, while cart after cart was laden with magnifi- cence, f Many of the houses to this day are fit for the residence of a first-rate family in every I'espect but vicinage and access. The last grand blow was given to the place by the opening of the road along the Calton Hill in 1817, ■which rendered it no longer the avenue of approach to the city from the east. Instead of profiting by the comparative retirement which it acquired on that occasion, it seemed to become the more wretchedly squahd, from its being the less under notice — as a gentleman dresses the least carefully when not expecting visitors. It is now a secluded, and, in gene- ral, meanly-inhabited suburb, only accessible by ways which, however lightly our fathers and grandfathers might regard them, are hardly now pervious to a lady or gentleman without shocking more of the senses than one, besides the difficulty of steering one's way through the herds of the idle and the wretched who incumber the street. One of the houses near the head of the Canongate, on the north side of the street, was indicated to me by an old lady a few years ago as that which tradition in her young days pointed to in connection with a wild story related in the notes to Rokeby. She had often heard the tale told, nearly in the same manner as it has been given by Scott, and the site of the house concerned in the tragedy was pointed out to her by her seniors. Perhaps the reader will * Removal. ■f ' At a former period, when the Canongate of Edinburgh was a more fashionable residence than at present, a lady of rank who lived in one of the closes, before going out to an evening party, and at a time when hairdressers and peruke-makers were much in demand, requested a servant (newly come home) to tell Tam Tough the hairdresser to come to her immediately. The servant departed in quest of Puff, but had scarcely reached the street, before she forgot the barber's name. Meeting with a cawdie, she asked him if he knew where the hairdresser lived. "Whatna hairdresser is't?" replied the cawdie. "I hae forgot his name," answered she. "What kind o' name wus't ? " responded Donald. " As near as I can mind," said the girl, " it was a name that wad neither i-ug nor rive." " The deil's in't," answered Donald, "but that's a tam'd tough name." "Thank j'e, Donald, that's the man's name I wanted— Tuin Tough." '—\_From an Edinburgh Newspaper.'] THE CANONGATE. 277 again excuse a quotation from the writings of our late gifted fellow-townsman : if to be related at all — and surely, in a work devoted to Edinburgh popular legends, it could not rightly be overlooked — it may as well be given in the lan- guage of the prince of modern contcurs : — 'About the beginning of the eighteenth century, when the large castles of the Scottish nobles, and even the se- cluded hotels, like those of the French noblesse, which they possessed in Edinburgh, were sometimes the scenes of strange and mystei'ious transactions, a divine of singular sanctity was called up at midnight to pray with a person at the point of death. This was no unusual summons ; but what followed was alarming. He was put into a sedan- chair, and after he had been transported to a remote part of the town, the bearers insisted upon his being blindfolded. The request was enforced by a cocked pistol, and submitted to; but in the course of the discussion, he conjectured, from the phrases employed by the chairmen, and from some part of their dress, not completely concealed by their cloaks, that they were greatly above the menial station they had assumed. After many turns and windings, the chair was carried up stairs into a lodging, where his eyes were un- covered, and he was introduced into a bedroom, where he found a lady, newly delivered of an infant. He was com- manded by his attendants to say such prayers by her bed- side as were fitting for a person not expected to survive a mortal disorder. He ventured to remonstrate, and observe that her safe delivery warranted better hopes. But he was sternly commanded to obey the orders first given, and with difficulty recollected himself sufficiently to acquit himself of the task imposed on him. He was then again hurried into the chair ; but as they conducted him down stairs, he heai'd the report of a pistol. He was safely conducted home ; a purse of gold was forced upon him ; but he was warned, at the same time, that the least allusion to this dark transac- tion would cost him his life. He betook himself to rest, and after long and broken musing, fell into a deep sleep. From this he was awakened by his servant, with the dismal news that a fire of uncommon fury had broken out in the house of * * * *, near the head of the Canongate, and that it was totally consumed ; with the shocking addition, that the daughter of the proprietor, a young lady eminent for 278 TRADITIONS OF KDINBURGH. beauty and accomplishments, had perished in the flames. The clerg-yman had his suspicions, but to have made them public would have availed nothing". He was timid; the family was of the first distinction ; above all, the deed was done, and could not be amended. Time wore away, how- .ever, and with it his terrors. He became unhappy at being' the solitary depositary of this fearful mystery, and men- tioned it to some of his brethren, throug-h whom the anec- dote acquired a sort of publicity. The divine, however, had been long" dead, and the story in some degree forgotten, when a fire broke out again on the very same spot where the house of * * * * had formerly stood, and which was now occupied by buildings of an inferior description. When the flames were at their height, the tumult, which usually attends such a scene, was suddenly suspended by an unex- pected apparition. A beautiful female, in a night-dress, extremely rich, but at least half a century old, appeared ia the very midst of the fire, and uttered these tremendous words in her vernacular idiom : " Anes burned, hvice burned; the third time I'll scare you all ! " The belief in this story was formerly so strong, that on a fire breaking out, and seeming to approach the fatal spot, there was a good deal of anxiety testified, lest the apparition should make good her denunciation.' A little way farther down the Canongate, on the same side, is an old-fashioned house called Moroccans Land, hav- ing an alley passing under it, over which is this inscription — a strange cry of the spirit of man to be heard in a street : — MISERERE MEI, DOMINE : A PECCATO, PROBRO, DEBITO, ET JIORTB SUBITA, LIBERA ME. From whom this exclamation proceeded I have never learned ; but the house, which is of more modern date than the legend, has a story connected with it. It is said that a young woman belonging to Edinburgh, having been taken upon a voyage by an African rover, was sold to the harem of the emperor of Morocco, with whom she became a favou- rite. Mindful, like her countrymen in general, of her native land and her relations, she held such a correspondence with home, as led to a brother of hers entering into merchandise, and conducting' commercial transactions with Morocco. He ST JOHN STREET. 279 was successful, and realised a little fortune, out of which he built this stately mansion. From gratitude, or out of a feeling of vanity regarding his imperial brother-in-law, he erected a statue of that personage in front of his house — a black, naked figure, with a turban, and a necklace of beads ; such being the notion which a Scottish artist of those days entertained of the personal aspect of the chief of one of the Mohammedan states of Africa. And this figure, perched in a little stone pulpit, still exists. As to the name be- stowed upon the house, it would most probably arise from the man being in the fii'st place called Morocco by way of sobriquet, as is common when any one becomes possessed by a particular subject, and often speaks of it. A little farther along is the opening of New Street, a modem oifshoot of the ancient city, dating from a time im- mediately before the rise of the New Town. Many persons of consequence lived here : Lord Kames in a neat house at the top, on the east side — an edifice once thought so fine, that people used to bring their country cousins to see it ; Lord Hailes, in a house more than half-way down, now occupied by Mr Ruthven, mechanist ; Sir Philip Ainslie in another house in the same row. The passers-by were often arrested by the sight of Sir Philip's preparations for a dinner party through the open windows, the show of plate being parti- cularly great. Now, all these mansions ai'e left to become workshops. Sic transit. Opposite to Kames's house is a small circular arrangement of causeway, indicating where St John's Cross formerly stood. Charles I., at his ceremo- nial entry into Edinburgh in 1633, knighted the provost at St John's Cross. ST JOHN STREET. Lord Monboddo's Suppers — The Sister of Smollett — Anecdote of Henry Dundas. St John Street, so named with reference to St John's Cross above-mentioned, was one of the heralds of the New Town. Seventy years ago, it was occupied solely by per- sons of distinction — nobles, judges, and country gentlemen : now, it is possessed as exclusively by persons of the middle 280 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. rank. In No. 13, lived that eccentric genius, Lord Mon- boddo, whose supper-parties, conducted in classic taste, fre- quented by the literati, and for a time presided over by an angel in the form of a daughter of his lordship, were of im- mense attraction in their day. In a stair at the head of this street lived the sister of the author of Roderick Random. Smollett's life as a literary adventurer in London, and the full participation he had in the woes of authors by profes- sion, have perhaps conveyed an erroneous idea of his birth and connexions. The SmoUetts of Dumbartonshire were in reality what was called in Scotland a good old family. The novelist's own grandfather had been one of the com- missioners for the union between England and Scotland. And it is an undoubted fact, that Tobias himself, if he had lived two or three years longer, would have become the owner of the family estate, worth about a thousand a-year. All this, to any one conversant with the condition of the Scot- tish gentry in the early part of the last century, will appear quite consistent with his having been brought up as a drug- gist's appi'entice in Glasgow — 'the bubbly-nosed callant, wi' the stane in his pouch,' as his master affectionately described Jiim, with reference to his notorious qualities as a Pickle. The sister of Smollett — she who, failing him, did succeed to the family property — was a Mrs Telfer, domiciled as a gentle widow in a common stair at the head of St John's Street (west side), first door up. She is described as a some- what stern-looking specimen of her sex, with a high cast of features, but in reality a good-enough-natured woman, and extremely shrewd and intelligent. One passion of her genus possessed her — AVhist. A relative tells me that one of the city magistrates, who was a tallow-chandler, calling upon her one evening, she said, ' Come awa', bailie, and take a trick at the cartes.' ' Troth, ma'am,' said he, ' I hav'na a bawbee in my pouch.' * Tut, man, ne'er mind that,' replied the lady ; ' let's e'en play for a pund o' candles ! ' During his last visit to Edinburgh (1766) — the visit which occasioned Humphry Clinker — Smollett lived in his sister's house. A person who recollects seeing him there, describes him as dressed in black clothes, tall, and extremely hand- some, but quite unlike the portraits at the front of his wox'ks, all of which are disclaimed by his relations. The unfortunate truth appears to be, that the world is in pos- ST JOHN STREET. 281 session of no genuine likeness of Smollett ! He was very peevish, on account of the ill health to which he had been so long a martyr, and used to complain much of a severe ulcerous disorder in his arm. His wife, according to the same authority, was a Creole, with a dark complexion, though, upon the whole, rather pretty — a fine lady, but a silly woman. Yet she had been the Narcissa of Itoderick Random.* In Humphry Clinker, Smollett works up many observa- tions of things and persons which he had made in his recent visit to Scotland. His relative. Commissary Smollett, and the family seat near Loch Lomond, receive ample notice. The story in the family is, that while Matthew Bramble was undoubtedly himself, he meant, in the gay and sprightly Jerry Melford, to describe his sister's son. Major Telfer, and in Liddy to depict his own daughter, who was destined to be the wife of the Major, but, to the inexpressible and ineffaceable grief of her father, died before the scheme could be accomplished. Jerry, it will be recollected, ' got some damage from the bright eyes of the charming Miss R n, whom he had the honour to dance with at the ball ; ' Liddy contracted an intimate friendship with the same person. This young beauty was Eleonora Renton, charming by the true right divine, for she was daughter of Mr Renton of Lamerton, by Lady Susan Montgomery, one of the fair offshoots of the house of Eglintoune, described in a preceding article. A sister of hers was married to Smollett's eldest nephew, Telfer, who became inheritor of the family estate, and, on account of it, took the surname of Smollett : a large modern village in Dumbartonshire takes its name from this lady. It seems to have been this connexion which brought the charming Eleonora under the novelist's attention. She afterwards married Charles Sharpe of Hoddam, and became the mother of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, the well-known antiquary. Strange to say, the lady whose bright eyes had flamed upon poor Smollett's soul in the middle of the last century, was living so lately as 1836. * strap, in Roderick Random, was supposed to represent one Hutchinson, a barber, near Dunbar. The man encouraged the idea as much as possible. \Mien Mr Hastings (governor of India) and his wife visited Scotland, they sent for this man, and were so pleased with him, that Mr Hastings aiter- waxds sent him a couple of razors, mounted in gold, from London. 282 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. When Smollett was confined in the King's Bench prison for the libel upon Admiral Knowles, he formed an intimacy with the celebrated Tenducci. This melodious singing bird had recently got his wings clipped by his creditors, and was mewed up in the same cage with the novelist. Smol- lett's friendship proceeded to such a height, that he paid the vocalist's debts from his own purse, and procured him his liberty. Tenducci afterwards visited Scotland, and was one night singing in a private circle, when somebody told him that a lady present was a near relation of his bene- factor ; upon which the g'rateful Italian prostrated himself before her, kissed her hands, and acted so many fantastic extravagances, after the foreign fashion, that she was put extremely out of countenance. On the west side of the street, immediately to the south of the Canongate Kilwinning Mason Lodge, there is a neat self-contained house of old fashion, with a flower-plot in front. This was the residence of Anderson, merchant in Leith, the father of seven sons, all of whom attained respectable situations in life : one was the late Mr Samuel Anderson of St Germains, banker. They had been at school with Mr Henry Dundas (afterwards Lord Melville) ; and when he had risen to high office, he called one day on Mr Anderson, and expressed his earnest wish to have the plea- sure of dining with his seven school companions, all of whom happened at that time to be at home. The meeting took place at Mr Dundas's, and it was a happy one, particularly to the host, who, when the hour of parting arrived, filled a bumper in high elation to their healths, and mentioned that they were the only men who had ever dined with him since he became a public servant who had not asked some favour either for themselves or their friends. The house adjoining to the one last mentioned — having its gable to the street, and a garden to the south — was, sixty years ago, the residence of the Earl of Wemyss. A Lady Betty Charteris, of this family, occupied the one farthest to the south on that side of the street. She was a person of romantic history, for, being thwarted in an affair of the heart, she lay in bed for twenty -six years, till dismissed to the world where such troubles are unknown. MORAY HOUSE. In the Canongate there is a house which has had the fortune to be connected with more than one of the most interesting points in our history. It is usually styled Moray House, being the entailed property of the noble family of Moray. The large proportions and elegant ap- pearance of this mansion distinguish it from all the sur- rounding buildings, and in the rear there is a fine garden, descending in the old fashion by a series of terraces. Though long deserted by the Earls of Moray, it has been, till a re- cent time, kept in the best order, being occupied by families of respectable character. This house was built in the early part of the reign of Charles I. (about 1628) by Mary, Countess of Home, then a widow. Her ladyship's initials, M. H., appeal", in cipher fashion, underneath her coronet upon various parts of the exterior; and over one of the principal windows towards the street there is a lozenge shield, containing the two lions rampant which form the coat armorial of the Home family. Lady Home was an English lady, being the daughter of Edward Sutton, Lord Dudley. She seems to have been unusually wealthy for the dowager of a Scottish earl, for, in 1644, the Eng-lish parliament repaid seventy thousand pounds which she had lent to the Scottish Covenanting government ; and she is found in the same year lending seven thousand to aid in paying the detachment of troops which that government had sent to Ireland. She was also a sufferer, however, by the civil war, in as far as Dunglass House, which was blown up in 1640, by accident, when in the hands of the Covenanters, belonged to her in liferent. To her affluent circumstances, and the taste which she pro- bably brought with her from her native country, may be ascribed the superior style of this mansion, which not only displays in the outside many traces of the elegant architec- ture which prevailed in England in the reign of James I., but contains two state apartments, decorated in the most elaborate manner, both in the walls and ceilings, with the favourite stucco-work of that reign. On the death of Lady Home, the house passed (her ladyship having no sur- •284 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Tiving male issue) to her daughters and co-heiresses, Mar- garet, Countess of Moray, and Anne, Countess (afterwards Duchess) of Lauderdale, between whom the entire property of their father, the first Earl of Home, appears to have been divided, his title going- into another hne. By an arrange- ment between the two sisters, the house became, in 1645, the property of the Countess of Moray and her son James, Lord Doune. It stood in this condition as to ownership, though still popularly called ' Lady Home's Lodging,' when, in the summer of 1648, Oliver Cromwell paid his first visit to Edinburgh. Cromwell had then just completed the over- throw of the army of the Engagement — a gallant body of troops which had been sent into England by the more Cavalier party of the Scottish Covenanters, in the hope of rescuing the king from the hands of the sectaries. The vic- torious general, with his companion Lambert, took up his quarters in this house, and here received the visits of some of the leaders of the less loyal party of the Covenanters — the Marquis of Argyll, the Chancellor Loudoun, the Earl of Lothian, the Lords Arbuthnot, Elcho, and Burleigh, and the Reverend Messrs David Dickson, Robert Blair, and James Guthrie. * What passed among them,' says Bishop Henry Guthrie in his Memoirs, ' came not to be known in- fallibly : but it was talked very loud that he did communi- cate to them his design in reference to the king, and had their assent thereto.' It is scarcely necessary to remark that this was probably no more than a piece of Cavalier scandal, for there is no reason to believe that Cromwell, if he yet contemplated the death of the king, would have dis- closed his views to men still so far tinctured with loyalty as those enumerated. Cromwell's object in visiting Edinburgh on this occasion, and in holding these conferences, was probably limited to the reinstatement of the ultra-Presby- terian party in the government, from which the Duke of Hamilton and other loyalists had lately displaced it. When, in 1650, the Lord Lorn, eldest son of the Mar- quis of Argyll, was married to Lady Mary Stuart, eldest daughter of the Earl of Moray, the wedding feast ' stood,' as contemporary writers express it, at the Earl of Moray's house in the Canongate. The event so auspicious to these great families was signalised by a circumstance of a very MORAY HOUSE. 286 remarkable kind. A whole week had been passed in fes- tivity by the wedded pair and their relations, when, on Saturday the 18th of May, the Marquis of Montrose was broug-ht to Edinburgh, an excommunicated and already condemned captive, having- been taken in the north in an unsuccessful attempt to raise a Cavalier party for his young- and exiled prince. When the former relative circumstances of Argyll and Montrose are called to mind — when it is recollected that thej had some years before struggled for an ascendancy in the civil affairs of Scotland, that Montrose had afterwards chased Argyll round and round the High- lands, burnt and plundered his country undisturbed, and on one occasion overthrown his forces in a sanguinary action, while Argyll looked on from a safe distance at sea — the present relative circumstances of the two chiefs be- come a striking illustration of the vicissitudes in personal fortune that characterise a time of civil commotion. Mon- trose, after riding from Leith on a sorry horse, was led into the Canongate by the Watergate, and there placed upon a low cart, driven by the common executioner. In this igno- minious fashion he was conducted up the street towards the prison, in which he was to have only two days to live ; and in passing along", was necessarily brought under the walls and windows of Moray House. On his approach to that mansion, the Marquis of Argyll, his lady, and children^ together with the whole of the marriage party, left their banqueting, and stepping out to a balcony which over- hangs the street, there planted themselves to gaze on the prostrated enemy of their house and cause. Here, indeed, they had the pleasure of seeing Montrose in all external circumstances reduced beneath their feet ; but they had not calculated on the strength of nature which enabled that extraordinary man to overcome so much of the bitterness of humiliation and of death. He is said to have gazed upon them with so much serenity, that they shrank back with some degree of discomposure, though not till the mar- chioness had expressed her spite at the fallen hero by spit- ting at him — an act which, in the present age, will scarcely be credible, though any one well acquainted with the his- tory of the seventeenth century will have too little reason to doubt it. In a Latin manuscript of this period, the gardens con- 286 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. nected with the house of the Earl of Moray are spoken of as *of such elegance, and cultivated with so much care, as to vie with those of warmer countries, and perhaps even of England itself. And here,' pursues the writer, 'you may see how much the art and industry of man may avail in supplying the defects of nature. Scarcely any one would believe it possible to give so much beauty to a garden in this frigid clime.' One reason for the excellence of the garden may have been its southern exposure. On the uppermost of its terraces there is a large and beautiful thorn, with pensile leaves ; on the second there are some fruit-trees, the branches of which have been caused to spread out in a particular way, so as to form a kind of cup, possibly for the reception of a pleasure party, for such fantastic twistings of nature were not uncommon among our ancestors. In the lowest level of the garden there is a little receptacle for water, beside which is the statue of a fishing boy, having a basket of fish at his feet, and a clam-shell inverted upon his head. Here is also a small building", surmounted by two lions holding female shields, and which may therefore be supposed con- temporaneous with the house : this was formerly a summer- house, but has latterly been expanded into the character of a conservatoiy. Tradition vaguely reports it as the place where the Union between England and Scotland was signed; though there is also a popular story of that fact having been accomplished in a laigh shop of the High Street, now a place for the starting of coaches and carriers (marked No. 117), though formerly a tavern, and known as the Union Cellar. Probably, the rumour, in at least the first instance, refers only to private arrangements connected with the passing of the celebrated statute in question. The Chancellor Earl of Seafield inhabited Moray House at that time on lease, and nothing could be more likely than that he should there have after-dinner consultations on the pending measure, which might, in the evening, be ad- journed to this garden retreat. It would appear that, about this period, the garden at- tached to the house was a sort of public promenade or lounging-place ; as was also the garden connected with Heriot's Hospital. In this character it forms a scene in the licentious play called The Assembly, written in 1692 by Dr Pitcairn. Will, * a discreet smart gentleman,' as he MORAY HOUSE. 287 is termed in the prefixed list of dramatis personse, but in reality a perfect debauchee, first makes an appoint- ment -witli Violetta, bis mistress, to meet her in this place 5 and as she is under the charge of a sourly-devout aunt, he has to propound the matter in metaphorical lan- guage. Pretending to expound a particular passage in the Song of Solomon, for the benefit of the dame, he thus gives the hint to her young protegee. * Will. " Come, my beloved, let us walk in the fields, let us lodge in the villages." The same metaphor still. The kirk not having the liberty of bringing her servant to her mothei*'s house, resolveth to meet him in the villages, such as the Canongate, in respect of Edinburgh ; and the vineyard, such as my Lady Murray''s Yards, to use a homely comparison. * Old Lady. A wondrous young man this ! * * * * ' Will. The eighth chapter towards the close : " Thou that dwellest in the gardens, cause me to hear thy voice." ' Violetta. That's still alluding to the metaphor of a gal- lant, who, by some signs, warns his mistress to make haste — a whistle or so. The same with early in the former chap- ter; that is to say, to-morrow by six o'clock. Make haste to accomplish our loves. ' Old L. Thou art a hopeful girl ; I hope God has blest my pains on thee.' In terms of this curious assignation, the third act opens in a walk in Lady Murray's Yards, where Will meets his beloved Violetta. After a great deal of badinage, in the style of Dryden's comedies, which were probably Dr Pit- cairn's favourite models, the dialogue proceeds in the fol- lowing style : — * Will. I'll marry you at the rights, if you can find in your heart to give yourself to an honest fellow of no great fortune. * Vio. In truth, sir, methinks it were fully as much for my future comfort to bestow myself, and any little fortune I have, upon you, as some reverend spark in a band and short cloak, with the patrimony of a good gift of prayer, and as little sense as his father, who was hanged in the Grass- market for murdering the king's oflScers, had of honesty. ' Will. Then I must acknowledge, my dear madam, I am most damnably in love with you, and must have you by foul or fair means ; choose you whether. 288 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. ' Vio. I'll give you fair play in an honest way. * Will. Then, madam, I can command a parson when I please ; and if you be half so kind as I could wish, we'll take a hackney, and trot up to some honest curate's house: besides, a guinea or so will be charity to him perhaps. * Vio. Hold a little ; I am hardly ready for that yet,' &c. After the departure of this hopeful couple, Lord Huify and Lord Whigriddin, who ai'e understood to have been in- tended for Lord Leven (son of the Earl of Melville) and the Earl of Crawford, enter the gardens, and hold some dis- course of a different kind. HOUSE OF SIR ARCHIBALD ACHESON. Opposite to the Canongate Tolbooth there is a large house of antique form, having a wooden plastered front, and three gables at top presented to the street, while a port- cocher gives access to a stair behind, by which the upper floors are reached. Along the front, over the ground-floor, is a series of tablets with devices and inscriptions. On one, * CONSTANTI PECTORI RES MORTALIUM UTVIBRA' [To the constant breast, the affairs of mortals are a shade] : on another, ' Ut tu lingua ttj^, sic ego mear : aurium DOMiNUS SUM ' [As you ai-e the lord of your tongue, so am I the lord of my ears] : on a third, a representation in bas relief of grain springing from a pair of cross-bones — a favourite emblem of the resurrection. On another is the legend, 'Hodie mihi, cras tibi: cur igitur curas? 1570 ; ' apparently a declaration of sentiment from the builder, whom we can imagine an object of invidious remark to his neighbours on account of his fine house, and answering them — ' I am the happy man to-day — you may be to-morrow : why, then, should you repine ? ' Nothing else is known of the early history of this house beyond the fact of the Canongate magistrates granting a charter for it to the Hammermen of that burgh September 10, 1647. It -^^as, however, in 1753 occupied by a person of no less distinction than the dowager Duchess of Gordon. In the alley passing under this mansion there is a goodly building of more modern structure, forming two sides of a HOUSE OF SIR ARCHIBALD ACHESON. 289 quadrangle, with a small court in front divided from the lane by a wall in which there is a large gateway. Amidst filthiness indescribable, one discerns traces of former ele- gance : a crest over the doorway — namely, a cock mounted on a trumpet, with the motto ' Vigilantibtjs,' and the date 1633 ; over two upper windows, the letters S. A. A. and D. M. H. These memorials, with certain references in the charter before-mentioned, leave no room for doubt that this was the house of Sir Archibald Acheson of Abercairny, se- cretary of state for Scotland in the reign of Charles I., and ancestor of the Earl of Gosford in Ireland, who to this day bears the same crest and motto. The letters are the initials of Sir Archibald and his wife. Dame Margaret Hamilton. Here of course was the court of Scotland for a certain time, the secretary of state being the grand dispenser of patronage in our country at that pei'iod — here, where nothing but the extremest wretchedness is now to be seen ! That boastful bird, too, still seeming to assert the family dignity, two hundred years after it ceased to have any connection with the spot ! Verily there are some moral preachments in these dark old closes, if modern refinement could go to hear the sermon ! Sir Archibald Acheson acquired extensive lands in Ire- land, which have ever since been in the possession of his family. It was a descendant of his, and of the same name, who had the gratification of becoming the landlord of Swift at Market-hill, and whom the dean was consequently led to celebrate in many of his poems. Swift seems to have been on the most familiar terms with this worthy knight and his lady ; the latter he was accustomed to call Skinnibo?iia, Lean, or Snipe, as the humour inclined him. The inimitable comic painting of her ladyship's maid Han- nah, in the debate whether Hamilton's Bawn should be turned into a malt-house or a barrack, can never perish from our literature. In like humour the dean asserts the superiority of himself, and his brother tenant Colonel Leslie, who had served much in Spain, over the knight — ' Proud baronet of Nova Scotia, The dean and Spaniard much reproach ye. Of their two fames the world enough ringa ; Where are th3' services and sufferings ? What if for nothing once you kissed. Against the grain, a monarch's fist ? TOL. VI. S 290 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. What if among the courtly trihe. You lost a place and saved a brihe ? And then in surly mood came here To fifteen hundred pounds a-year, And fierce against the Whigs harangued ? You never ventured to be hanged. How dare you treat your betters thus ? Are you to be compared to us ? ' Speaking also of a celebrated thorn at Market-hill, which had long been a resort of merrymaking- parties, he reverts to the Scottish secretary of former days — ' Sir Archibald, that valorous knight, The lord of all the fruitful plain. Would come and listen with delight, For he was fond of rural strain : Sir Archibald, whose favourite name Shall stand for ages on record. By Scottish bards of highest fame. Wise Hawthomden and Stirling's lord.' The following letter to Sir Archibald from his friend Sir James Balfour, Lord Lyon, occurs amongst the manuscript stores of the latter gentleman in the Advocates' Library : — ' To Sir Archibald Achesone, one of the Secretaries of Staite. ' Worthy Sir — Your letters, full of Spartanical brevity to the first view, hot, againe overlooked, Demosthenicall longe ; stuffed full of exaggerations and complaints ; the yeast of your enteirest affections, sent to quicken a slum- bring friend as you imagine, quho nevertheless remains vigilant of you and of the smallest matters, which may aney wayes adde the least rill of content to the ocean of your happiness ; quherfor you may show your comerad, and intreat him from me, as from one that trewly loves and honors his best pairts, that now he void refraine, both his tonge and pen, from these quhirkis and obloquies, quherwith he so often uses to stain the name of grate per- sonages, for hai'dly can he live so reteiredly, in so voluble ane age, without becoming at one tyme or uther obnoxious to the blow of some courtier. So begging God to bless you, I am your — Ja. Balfour. ' London, 9 Apryll 1631.' Twenty years before the Duchess of Gordon lived in the venerable house at the head of the close, a preceding dowager resided in another part of the town. This was the distin- guished Lady Elizabeth Howard (daughter of the Duke of HOUSE OF SIR ARCHIBALD ACHESON. 291 ^Norfolk, by Lady Anne Somerset, daug-liter of the Marquis of Worcester), who occasioned so much disturbance in the end of Queen Anne's reign, by the Jacobite medal which she sent to the Faculty of Advocates. Her Grace lived in a house at the Abbey Hill, where, as we are informed by Wodrow in a tone of pious horror,* she openly kept a kind of college for instructing young people in Jesuitism and Jacobitism together. In this labour she seems to have been assisted by the Duchess of Perth, a kindred soul, whose enthusiasm afterwards caused the ruin of her family, by sending her son into the insurrection of 1745.t The Duchess of Gordon died here in 1732. I should suppose the house to have been that respectable old villa, at the extremity of the suburb of Abbey Hill, in which the late Baron Norton, of the Court of Exchequer, lived for many years. It was formerly possessed by Baron Mure, who, during the administration of the Earl of Bute, exercised the duties, and dispensed the patronage, of the soiis-ministre for Scotland, under the Hon. Stuart Mackenzie, younger brother of the premier. This was of course in its turn the court of Scotland; and from the description of a gentleman old enough to remember attending the levees (Sir W. M. Bannatyne), I should suppose that it was as much haunted by suitors of all kinds as ever were the more elegant halls of Holyroodhouse. Baron Mure, who was the personal friend of Earl Bute, died in 1774. It may be here mentioned that Mrs Baron Mure was, in the acceptation of those days, a blue-stocking ; maintaining, for instance, a correspondence with David Hume. On hear- ing of the death of the philosopher, she felicitated herself upon possessing so many of his epistolary compositions, as she expected that every fragment of his writings would now be eagerly appreciated, and that her letters of coui'se would make a respectable appearance in a collection of his correspondence, or embodied in his biography. Quoth she to the friends who were around her at the moment, ' I have carefully preserved the letters of my illustrious friend, putting them always into a draw^er by themselves as I got * In his MS. Diaries in the Advocates' Lihrar)'. t In an advertisement in a Jacobite newspaper, called ' The Thistle,' which rose and sunk in 1734, the house is advertised as having lately been occupied by the Duchesses of Gordon and Perth. 292 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. them ; and they now form, I assure you, a very large bundle.' She proposed immediately to go to this drawer and produce them for the gratification of the company, some of whom volunteered to go along with her. On open- ing the drawer, however, she recollected that, some time ago, on its becoming too full, she had tied up the letters with tape, and conveyed them to a general receptacle for loose papers in an upper chamber, or, to speak plainly, a lumber-room. Thither they all trooped off, with the kitchen- maid as a convoy, and after some difficulty, the exact locality of the letters was ascertained. * What is become, Jenny,' said Mrs Mure, 'of the bundle tied up in a red tape, that we put into that corner ? You must surely re- member it 1 Where do you think it is ? ' * Yon, ma'am ! ' cried Jenny, as if a sudden burst of light had come in upon her ; ' was't yon ?' 'Ay, it was yon! as you call it,' responded the lady. * Where is yon?' * Gude forgie me, ma'am ! ' cried Jenny, ' I've been singin* hens wi' them this half year ! ' Such was the fate of one large branch of the correspon- dence of this eminent philosopher. PANMURE HOUSE— ADAM SMITH. At the bottom of a close a little way below the Canongate Church, there is a house which, a few years ago, bore the appearance of one of those small semi-quadrangular manor- houses which were prevalent in the country about the middle of the seventeenth century. It is now altered, and brought into juxtaposition with the coarse details of an iron-foundry, yet still is not without some traits of its original style. The name of Panmure House takes the mind back to the Earls of Panmure, the fourth of whom lost title and estates for his concern in the affair of 1715 ; but I am not certain of any earlier proprietor of this family than William Maule, nephew of the attainted earl, created Earl of Panmui-e as an Irish title in 1743, granduncle of PANMURE HOUSE — ADAM SMITH. 293 the present Lord Panmure of the British peerage. He possessed the house in the middle of the last century. All reference to rank in connection with this house ap- pears trivial in comparison with the fact that it was the residence of Adam Smith from 1778, when he came to live in Edinburgh as a commissioner of the customs, till his death in 1790, when he was interred in a somewhat obscure situation at the back of the Canongate Tolbooth. In his time, the house must have seen the most intellectual company to be had in Scotland ; but it had not the honour of being the birthplace of any of Smith's great works. His last and greatest — the book which has undoubtedly done more for the good of the community than any other ever produced in Scotland — was the work of ten quiet studious years pre- vious to 1778, during which the philosopher lived in his mother's house in Kirkcaldy. The gentle virtuous character of Smith has left little for the anecdotist. The utmost simplicity marked the externals of the man. He said veiy truly (being in possession of a handsome library) that ' he was only a beau in his books.' Leading an abstracted scholarly life, he was ill fitted for common worldly affairs. Some one remarked to a friend of mine, while Smith still lived, ' How strange to think of one who has written so well on the principles of exchange and barter — he is obliged to get a friend to buy his horse- corn for him ! ' The author of the Wealth of Nations never thought of marrying. His household affairs were managed to his perfect contentment by a female cousin, a Miss Jeanie Douglas, who almost necessarily acquired a great control over him. It is said that the amiable philosopher, being fond of a bit of sugar, and chid by her for taking it, would sometimes, in sauntering backwards and forwards along the parloui', watch till Miss Jeanie's back was turned, in order to supply himself with his favourite morsel. Such things are not derogatory to greatness like Smith's : they link it to human nature, and secure for it the love, as it had previously possessed the admiration, of common men. The one personal circumstance regarding Smith which has made the greatest impression on his fellow -citizens, is the rather too-well-known anecdote of the two fish- women. He was walking along the streets one day, deeply abstracted, and speaking in a low tone to himself, when 294 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. he caught the attention of two of these many-petticoated ladies, engaged in selling their fish. They exchanged sig- nificant looks, bearing strong reference to the restraints of a well-managed lunatic asylum, and then sighed one to the other, * Aih, dear ; and he's weel put on too ! ' that is, well- dressed; his gentleman-like condition making the case appear so much the more piteous. JOHN PATERSON THE GOLFER. In the Canongate, nearly opposite to Queensberry House, is a narrow old-fashioned mansion, of peculiar form, having a coat-armorial conspicuously placed at the top, and a plain slab over the doorway containing the following inscrip- tions : — ' Cum victor ludo, Scotis qui proprius, esaet, Ter tres victores host redimitus avos, Patersonus, humo tunc educebat in altum Hanc, quae victores tot tulit una, domum." ' I hate no person.' It appears that this quatrain was the production of Dr Pitcairn, while the sentence below is an anagram upon the name of John Patersone. The stanza expresses, that ' when Paterson had been crowned victor in a game pecu- liar to Scotland, in which his ancestors had also been often victorious, he then built this mansion, which one conquest raised him above all his predecessors.' We must resort to tradition for an explanation of this obscure hint. Till a recent period, golfing had long been conducted upon the Links of Leith. It had even been the sport of princes on that field. We are told by Mr William Tytler of Wood- houselee, that Charles I. and the Duke of York (afterwards James II.) played at golf on Leith Links, in succession, during the brief periods of their residence in Holyrood. Though there is an improbability in this tale as far as Charles is concerned, seeing that he spent too short a time in Edinburgh to have been able to play at a game notorious for the time necessary in acquiring it, I may quote the anec- dote related by Mr Tytler : ' That while he was engaged in a party at golf on the green or Links of Leith, a letter was JOHN PATERSON THE GOLFER. 295 delivered into his hands, which gave him the first account of the insurrection and rebellion in Ireland ; on reading" which, he suddenly called for his coach, and leaning- on one of his attendants, and in great agitation, drove to the palace of Holyroodhouse, from whence next day he set out for London.' Mr Tytler says, regarding the Duke of York, that he ' was frequently seen in a party at golf on the Links of Leith with some of the nobility and gentry. I remember in my youth to have often conversed with an old man named Andrew Dickson, a golf-club-maker, who said that, when a boy, he used to carry the duke's golf-clubs, and run before him, and announce where the balls fell.'* Tradition reports that when the duke lived in Holyrood- house, he had on one occasion a discussion with two Eng- lish noblemen as to the native country of golf; his royal highness asserting that it was peculiar to Scotland, while they as pertinaciously insisted that it was an English game as well. Assuredly, whatever may have been the case in those days, it is not now an English game in the proper sense of the words, seeing that it is only played to the south of the Tweed by a few fraternities of Scotsmen, who have acquired it in their own country in youth. How- ever this may be, the two English nobles proposed, good- humouredly, to prove its English character by taking up the duke in a match, to be played on Leith Links. James, glad of an opportunity to make popularity in Scotland, in however small a way, accepted the challenge, and sought for the best partner he could find. By an association not at this day surprising to those who practise the game, the heir presumptive of the British throne played in concert with a poor shoemaker named John Paterson, the worthy descendant of a long line of illustrious golfers. If the two southrons were, as might be expected, inexperienced in the game, they had no chance against a pair, one member of which was a good player. So the duke got the best of the practical argument ; and Paterson's merits were rewarded by a gift of the sum played for. The story goes on to say that John was thus enabled to build a somewhat stylish house for himself in the Canongate ; on the top of which, being a Scotsman, and having of course a pedigree, he clapped the Patei-son arms — three pelicans vulned ; on a * ArchEBologia Scotica, i. 296 TBADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. cMef three mullets ; crest, a dexter hand g-rasping a golf club; together with the motto — dear to all golfers — Far ANB Sure. It must be admitted there is some uncertainty about this tale. The house, the inscriptions, and arms, only indicate that Paterson built the house after being a victor at golf, and that Pitcairn had a hand in decorating it. One might even see, in the fact of the epigram, as if a gentleman wit were indulging in a jest at the expense of some simple plebeian, who held all notoriety honourable. It might have been expected that, if Paterson had been enriched by a match in which he was connected with the Duke of York, a Jacobite like Pitcairn would have made distinct allusion to the circumstance. The tradition, nevertheless, seems too curious to be entirely overlooked, and the reader may there- fore take it at its worth. HENRY PRENTICE AND POTATOES. No doubt is entertained on any hand that the field-cul- ture of the potato was first practised in Scotland by a man of humble condition, originally a pedlar, by name Henry Prentice. He was an eccentric person, as many have been who stepped out of the common walk to do things after- wards discovered to be great. A story is told, that while the potatoes were growing in certain little fields which he leased near our city. Lord Minto came from time to time to inquire about the crop. Prentice at length told his lord- ship that the experiment was entirely successful, and all he wanted was a horse and cart to drive his potatoes to Edin- burgh, that they might be sold. ' I'll give you a horse and cart,' said his lordship. Prentice then took his crop to market, cart by cart, till it was all sold, after which he disposed of the horse and cart, which he affected to believe Lord Minto had given him as a present. Having, towards the close of his days, realised a small sum of money, he sunk £140 in the hands of the Canongate magistrates, as managers of the poor-house of that parish, receiving in return seven shillings a-week, upon which he lived for several years. Occasionally, he made Little dona- HENRY PRENTICE AND POTATOES. 297 tions to the charity. During his last years, he was aa object of no small curiosity in Edinburgh, partly on account of his connection with potato culture, and partly by reason of his oddities. It was said of him that he would never shake hands with any human being above two years of age. In his bargain with the Canongate dignitaries, it was agreed that he should have a good grave in their church- yard, and one was selected according to his own choice. Over this, thinking it as well perhaps that he should enjoy a little quasi - posthumous notoriety during* his life, he caused a monument to be erected, bearing this inscription — ' Be not anxious to know how I lived, But rather how you yourself should die.' He also had a coffin prepared, at the price of two guineas, taking the undertaker bound to screw it down gratis with his own hands. In addition to all this, his friends the magis- trates were under covenant to bury him with a hearse and four coaches. But even the designs of mortals respecting the grave itself are liable to disappointment. Owing to the mischief done by the boys to the premature monument, Prentice saw fit to have it removed to a quieter cemetery, that of Restalrig, where, at his death in 1788, he was accordingly interred. Such was the originator of that extensive culture of the potato which has since borne so conspicuous a place in the economics of our country, for good and for evil. It is curious that this plant, although the sole support of millions of our population, should now again (1846) have fallen under suspicion. At its first introduction, and foi* several ages thereafter, it was regarded as a vegetable of by no means good character, though for a totally different rea- son from any which affect its reputation in our day. Its supposed tendency to inflame some of the sensual feelings of human nature, is frequently adverted to by Shakspeare and his contemporaries ; and this long remained a popular impression in the north.* * Robertson, in his Rural Recollections (Irvine, 1829), says— ' The earliest evidence that I have met -svith of potatoes in Scotland, is an old household book of the Eglintoune family, in 1733, in which potatoes appear at different times as a dish at supper.* They appear earlier than this — namely, in 1701 .—in the household book of the Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, where the price per peck is intimated at 23. 6d.— See Arnol's History of Edinburgh. 4to. P. 201. 298 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. The two ladies of Traquair, on whose birth as twins Pit ' cairn wrote an epigram, lived to old ag-e in a house at the head of St Mary's Wynd in Edinburg-h. Uncommonly small in stature, and of odd appearance, they were of that class of their sex to whom a removal from the condition of spinsterhood is never once, in youth any more than in age, imputed as a possibility. A quiet gentle life did the two good old ladies live, upon the moderate income derived from their family, till at last their chief amusement was to dress little dolls, and tend them in small beds or cradles, as they had done in their girlish days. Before this time, but when they were at a ripe old age, their sole sei'vant, Jenny, came in from market one Saturday morning with the usual meagre basketful of provisions. ' Here is the half leg o' lamb, my leddies, and here is a collop for the cat ; and this is our half pund o' butter ; and these are our greens — a* very guid.' ' But what's this at the bottom o' the basket ?' ' Oh, this is just a dizzen o' 'taties, that Lucky insisted on sending, as they would eat sae nice wi' the lamb.' A con- sentaneous half scream proceeded from the old ladies, as they dropped everything back into the basket — ' Go away, Jenny ; we want nae sic thing here ! ' THE DUCHESS OF BUCCLEUCH AND MONMOUTH. It is rather curious that one of my informants in this article should have dined with a lady who had dined with a peeress married in the year 1662. This peeress was Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Mon- mouth, the wife of the unfortunate son of Charles II. As is well known, she was early deserted by her husband, who represented, not without justice, that a marriage into which he had been tempted for reasons of policy by his relations when he was only thirteen years of age could hardly be binding. The young duchess, naturally plain in features, was so unfortunate in early womanhood as to become lame, in con- sequence of some feats in dancing. For her want of per- sonal graces, there is negative evidence in a dedication of Dryden, where he speaks abundantly of her wit, but not a THE DUCHESS OF BUCCLEUCH AND MONMOUTH. 299 word of beauty — which shows that the case must have been desperate. [This, by the way, was the remark made to me on the subject by Sir Walter Scott, who, in the Lay of the Last Minstrel, has done what Dryden could not do — flat- tered the duchess : ' She had kno^vn adversit}-. Though horn in such a high degree ; In pride of power and beauty's bloom. Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb.'] Were any further proof wanting, it might be found in the regard in which she was held by James II., who, as is well known, had such a tendency to plain women, as induced a suspicion in his witty brother that they were prescribed to him by his confessor by way of penance. This friendship, in which there was nothing improper, was the means of saving her Grace's estates at the tragical close of her hus- band's life. It is curious to learn that the duchess, notwithstanding the tei-ms on which she had been with her husband, and the sad stamp put upon his pretensions to legitimacy, acted throughout the remainder of her somewhat protracted life as if she had been the widow of a true prince of the blood- royal. In her state rooms she had a canopy erected, beneath which was the only seat in the apartment, everybody stand- ing besides herself. AVhen Lady Mai'garet Montgomery, one of the beautiful Countess of Eglintoune's daughters, was at a boarding-school near London — previous to the year Thirty — she was frequently invited by the duchess to her house ; and because her great-grandmother, Lady Mary Leslie, was sister to her Grace's mother, she was allowed a chair ; but this was an extraordinary mark of grace. The duchess was the last person of quality in Scotland who kept pages, in the proper acceptation of the term ; that is, young gentlemen of good birth, who acquired manners and know- ledge of the world in attending upon persons of exalted rank. The last of her Grace's pages rose to be a general. When a letter was brought for the duchess, the domestic gave it to the page — the page to the waiting gentlewoman (always a person of birth also) — and she at length to her Grace. The duchess kept a tight hand over her clan and tenants, but was upon the whole beloved. She was buried (1732) on the same day with the too- 300 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. much-celebrated Colonel Charteris. At the funeral of Henry, Duke of Buccleuch, in the year 1812, in the aisle of the church at Dalkeith, my informant (Sir Walter Scott) was shown an old man who had been at the funeral of both her Grace and Colonel Charteris. He said that the day was dreadfully stormy, which, all the world agreed, was owing to the devil carrying off Charteris. The mob broke in upon the mourners who followed this personage to the grave, and threw cats, dogs, and a pack of cards upon the coffin ; whereupon the gentlemen drew their swords, and cut away among the rioters. In the confusion, one little old man was pushed into the grave ; and the sextons, somewhat prompt in the discharge of their duty, began to shovel in the earth upon the quick and the dead. The grandfather of my informant (Dr Rutherford), who was one of the mournei's, was much hurt in the affray ; and my informant has heard his mother describe the terror of the family on his coming home with his clothes bloody and his sword broken. As to pages — a custom existed among old ladies till a later day of keeping such attendants, rather superior to the little polybuttoned personages who are now so universal. It was not, however, to be expected that a pranksome youth would behave with consistent respect to an aged female of the stiff manners then prevalent. Accordingly, ridicu- lous circumstances took place. An old lady of the name of Plenderleith, of very stately aspect and grave carriage, used to walk to Leith by the Easter Road with her ' little foot-page, of wit sae wondrous slie,' behind her. For the whole way, the young rogue would be seen projecting burs at her dress, laughing immoderately, but silently, when one stuck. An old lady and her sequel of a page was very much like a tragedy followed by a farce. The keeping of the rascals in order at home used also to be a sad problem to a quiet old lady. The only expedient which Miss could hit upon to preserve her page from the corruption of the streets was, in her own phrase, to lock up his breeks, which she did almost every evening. The youth, being then only presentable at a window, had to content himself with such chat as he could indulge in with his companions, and such mischief as he could execute, from that loophole of retreat. So much for the parade of keeping pages. CLAUDERO. Edinburgh, which now smiles complacently upon the gravities of her reviews, and the flippancies of her maga- zines, laug-hed outrig-ht sixty years ago at the coarse lam- poons of her favourite poet and pamphleteer, Claudero. The distinct publications of this witty and eccentric person- age (whose real name was James Wilson) are well known to collectors ; and his occasional pieces must be fresh in the remembrance of those who, forty or fifty years ago (1824), were in the habit of perusing the Scots Magazine, amidst the general gravity of which they appeared, like the bright and giddy eyes of a satyr, staring through the sere leaves of a sober forest scene. Claudero was a native of Cumbernauld, in Dumbarton- shire, and at an early period of his life showed such marks of a mischief-loving disposition, as procured him general odium. The occasion of his lameness was a pebble thrown from a tree at the ministei", who, having been previously exasperated by his tricks, chased him to the end of a closed lane, and with his cane inflicted such personal chastisement as rendered him a cripple, and a hater of the clergy, for the rest of his life. In Edinburgh, where he lived for upwards of thirty years previous to his death in 1789, his livelihood was at first ostensibly gained by keeping a little school, latterly by celebrating what were called half-viarh marriages ; a busi- ness resembling that of the Gretna blacksmith. It is said that he who made himself the terror of so many by his wit, was in his turn held in fear by his wife, who was as com- plete a shrew as ever fell to the lot of poet or philosopher. He was a satirist by profession ; and when any person wished to have a squib played oiF upon his neighbours, he had nothing to do but call upon Claudero, who, for half-a- crown, would produce the desired effusion, composed, and copied ofl" in a fair hand, in a given time. He liked this species of employment better than writing upon speculation, the profit being more certain and immediate. When in want of money, it was his custom to write a sly satire on some opulent public personage, upon whom he called with S02 TRADITIONS OF EDINBtJRGH. it, desii"ing to have his opinion of the work, and his coun- tenance in favour of a subscription for its publication. The object of his ridicule, conscience-struck by his own portrait, would wince, and be civil, advise him to give up thoughts ■of publishing so hasty a production, and conclude by offering a guinea or two, to keep the poet alive till better times should come round. At that time there lived in Edin- burgh a number of rich old men, who had made fortunes in questionable ways abroad, and whose characters, labouring under strange suspicions, were wonderfully susceptible of Claudero's satire. These the wag used to bleed profusely and frequently, by working upon their fears of public notice. In 1766 appeared Miscellanies in Prose and Verse, by Claudero, Son of Nimrod the Mighty Hunter, S^c. Sfc. open- ing with this preface : — ' Christian reader — The following miscellany is published at the desire of many gentlemen, who have all been my very good friends ; if there be any- thing in it amusing or entertaining, I shall be very glad I have conti'ibuted to your diversion, and will laugh as heartily at your money as you do at my works. Several of my pieces may need explanation ; but I am too cunning for that : what is not understood, like Presbyterian preach- ing, will at least be admired. I am regardless of critics : perhaps some of my lines want a foot ; but then, if the critic look sharp out, he will find that loss sufficiently sup- plied in other places, where they have a foot too much : and besides, men's works generally resemble themselves ; if the poems are lame, so is the author — Claudero.' The most remarkable poems in this volume are — ' The Echo of the Royal Porch of the Palace of Holyroodhouse, which fell under Military Execution, anno 1753 ;' * The Last Speech and Dying "Words of the Cross, which was Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered on Monday the 15th of March 1756, for the horrid crime of being an Incumbrance to the Street ;' * Scotland in Tears for the horrid Treatment of the Kings' Sepulchres;' ' An Elegy on the much-lamented Death of Quaker Erskine ;' * ' A Sermon on the Condem- nation of the Netherbow ;' ' Humphry Colquhoun's Last * A noted brewer, much given to preaching:. Of him Claudero says— ' Our souls with gospel he did cheer, Our bodies, too, ^vith ale and beer ; Gratis he gospel got and gave away ; For ale and beer he only made us pay.* CLAUDERO. 303 Farewell,' &c. Claudero seems to liave been the only man of his time who remonstrated against the destruc- tion of the venerable edifices then removed from the streets which they ornamented, to the disappointment and indig- nation of all future antiquaries. There is much wit in his sermon upon the destruction of the Netherbow — 'What was too hard,' he says, ' for the great ones of the earth, yea even queens, to effect, is now accomplished. No patriot duke opposeth the scheme, as did the great Argyll in the grand senate of our nation; therefore the project shall go into execution, and down shall Edina's lofty porches be hurled with a vengeance. Streets shall be extended to the east, regular and beautiful, as far as the Frigate Whins ; and Portobello* shall be a lodge for the captors of tea and brandy. The city shall be joined to Leith on the north, and a procession of wise masons shall there lay the foun- dations of a spacious harbour. Pequin or Nanquin shall not be able to compare with Edinburgh for magnificence. Our city shall be the greatest wonder of the world, and the fame of its glory shall reach the distant ends of the earth.f But lament, oh thou descendant of the royal Dane, and chief of the tribe of Wilson ; for thy shop, contiguous to the porch, shall be dashed to pieces, and its place will know thee no more ! No more shall the melodious voice of the loyalist Grant J be heard in the morning, nor shall he any * This thriving parliamentary burgh originated in a cottage built, and long inhabited, by a retired seaman of Admiral Vernon's squadron, who gave it this name, in commemoration of the triumph which his commander there gained over the Spaniards in 1739. There must have been various houses at the spot in 1753, when we find one ' George Hamilton, in Portobello,' adver- tising in the Edinburgh Courant, that he would give a reward of three pounds to any one who should discover the author of a scandalous report, which represented him as harbouring robbers in his house. The waste upon which Portobello is now partly founded was dreadfully in- fested at this time with robbers, and resorted to by smugglers. — See Courant for the time. t Claudero could have little serious expectation that several of these pre- dictions would come to pass before he had been forty years in his grave. ^ A celebrated and much-esteemed fishing-rod maker, who afterwards flourished in the old wooden land at the head of Blackfriars' Wj-nd. He survived to recent times, and was distinguished for his adherence to the cocked hat, wrist ruflles, and buckles of his youth. He was a short neat man, very well bred, a great angler, intimate with the great, a Jacobite, and lived to near a century. He had fished in almost every trouting stream in the three kingdoms, and was seen skating on Lochend at the age of eighty-five. 'Eis fishing-rods axe still esteemed of peculiar excellence and value. 304 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. more shake the bending wand towards the triumphal arch. Let all who ang-le in deep waters lament, for Tom had not his equal. The Netherbow Coffee-house of the loyal Smeiton can now no longer enjoy its ancient name with propriety ; and from henceforth The Revolution Coffee-house shall its name be called. Our gates must be extended wide for ac- commodating the gilded chariots, which, from the luxury of the age, are become numerous. With an impetuous career, they jostle ag-ainst one another in our streets, and the un- wary foot-passenger is in danger of being crushed to pieces. The loaded cart itself cannot withstand their fury, and the hideous yells of Coal Johnie resound through the vaulted sk3\ The sour-milk barrels are overturned, and deluges of Corstor- phin cream run down our strands, while the poor unhappy milkmaid wrings her hands with sorrow.' To the sermon are appended the * Last Speech and Dying Words of the Nether- bow,' in which the following laughable declaration occurs : — ' May my clock be struck dumb in the other world, if I lie in this ! and may Mack, the reformer of Edina's lofty spires, never bestride my weathercock on high, if I deviate from truth in these my last words ! Though my fabric shall be levelled with the dust of the earth, yet I fall in hope that my weathercock shall be exalted on some more modern dome, where it shall shine like the burnished gold, reflecting the rays of the sun to the eye of ages unborn. The daring Mack shall yet look down from my cock, high in the airy region, to the brandy-shops below, where large graybeards shall appear to him no bigger than mutchkin- bottles, and mutchkin-bottles shall be in his sight like the spark of a diamond.' One of Claudero's versified com- positions, * Humphry Colquhoun's Farewell,' is remark- able as a kind of coarse prototype of the beautiful lyric entitled ' Mary,' sung in The Pirate by Claud Halcro. One wonders to find the genius of Scott refining upon such materials : — ' Farewell to Auld Reekie, Farewell to lewd Kate, Farewell to each , And farewell to cursed debt ; With light heart and thin breeches. Humph crosses the main ; AU worn out to stitches, He'll ne'er come again. CLAtTDERO. 305 Farewell to old Dido, ■WTio sold him good ale ; Her channs, like her drink. For poor Humph were too stale ; Though closely she urged him To marry and stay. Her Trojan, quite cloyed, From her sailed away. Farewell to James Campbell, Who played many tricks ; Humph's ghost and Lochmoidart's* Will chase him to Styx ; Where in Charon's wherry He'll he ferried o'er To Pluto's dominions, 'Mongst rascals great store. Farewell, pot companions. Farewell, all good fellows ; Farewell to my anvil, Files, pliers, and bellows : Sails, fly to Jamaica, Where I mean long to dwell, Change manners with climates- Dear Drummond, farewell.' It is not unworthy of notice that the publication of Di* Blair's Lectures on Rhetoric and the Belles Lettres was hastened by Claudero, who, having- procured notes taken by some of the students, avowed an intention of giving these to the world. The reverend author states in his preface that he was induced to publish the lectures in consequence of some surreptitious and incorrect copies finding' their way to the public ; but it has not hitherto been told that this doggrel-monger was the person chiefly concerned in bring- ing about that result. Claudero occasionally dealt in whitewash as well as blackball, and sometimes wrote regular panegyrics. Aa address of this kind to a writer named Walter Fergusson, who built St James's Square, concludes with a strange association of ideas : — ' May Pentland HiUs pour forth their springs, To water all thy square ! May Pergussons still bless the place, Both gay and debonnair ! ' When the said square was in progress, however, the water seemed in no hurry to obey the bard's invocation ; and an * This seems to bear some reference to the seizure of young Macdonald of Kinlochmoidart at Lesmahago in 1745. VOL. VI. T 306 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. attempt was made to procure this useful element by sinking wells for it, despite the elevation of the ground. Mr Walter Scott, W. S., happened one day to pass when Captain Fer- gusson of the royal navy — a good officer, but a sort of Commodore Trunnion in his manners — was sinking a well of vast depth. Upon Mr Scott expressing a doubt if water could be got there, ' I will get it,' quoth the captain, * though I sink to hell for it ! ' 'A bad place for water,' was the dry remark of the doubter. OLD BURGHAL REGULATIONS. Certain acts and statutes of the magistrates, extending from the year 1529 to 1531,* throw some light on the age to which they refer. The Town-Council at that time thought themselves not more seriously called upon to interfere for the maintenance of just weights and measures amongst tradesmen, than for the fixing of prices, and the prevention of retailing. They ordain, for instance, ' that na brouster na dry tapster tak apone hand to sell ony derrar aill fra Monunday furth at nixt cummys na xvid. the gallonne, and at it be guid and sufficient aill of the price forsaid ;' [that is, that no brewer or dry tapster take upon hand to sell any dearer ale, from Monday next forward, than Is. 4d. per gallon, and that it be good and sufficient ale of the price aforesaid]. The penalty is to be 8s. for the first fault ; for the second, the ale is to be distributed gratis ; to punish the third, the public officers are to bring ' thar caldrone or kettellis to the Crose, and ding thame throw with ane puncione, and spane thame fra the operation for zer and day ;' [to bring their caldron or kettles to the Cross, and drive a puncheon through them, and debar the proprietor from his trade for a year and a day]. ' Baxtarris ' — that is, bakers — are in like manner ordained to bake their bread of good and sufficient stuff at twopence the eighteen-ounce loaf — the honest bailies never once re- flecting, to all appearance, how the baker was to be sure of purchasing his flour at such a rate as to aflbrd the bread * Printed in the second volume of the Miscellany of the Maitland Club. OLD BURGHAL REGULATIONS. 307 at that price. He was to have 'hot ane buth' [only one shop] in which to sell his bread ; and no huxter was to retail his bread : all this under pain of banishment from the town. Candlemakers are to sell their candles at six- pence a-pound where rag- wick was used, and fivepence where the wick was of hards or lint. The same penalties which enforce these regulations are imposed upon all who shall melt their tallow 'on the fore gait' — [that is, the front street] — in itself a curious trait of our early city customs. * Stabillaris' are enjoined, under severe penalties, to have their stables well ' furnest with hek and mangear, and with sufficient lokis for the durris, for sure keiping of the horsis.' Prices are fixed for corn and hay ; and where these articles are bought from them, they are to charge no stable fee. On the other hand, no other class of persons are to sell or * regrait' oats and hay, under severe penalties. People dealing in poultry and wild fowl are ordained to come openly with them to the Cross, ' and nocht to be halden in covert under clokis or gounis, nor yit in thair houses.' They are to hold their market in this open manner during certain hours. Severe penalties are threatened to all who shall buy such articles from strangers to sell again in the town otherwise than at the market cross. The same strong measures are taken ' that na maner of persone, man nor woman, regrait nor by ony fische, to tap nor sell agane to the nychtbouris of the toune,' till twelve o'clock noon, or from one till six in the afternoon ; ' item, that na maner of persone, man nor woman, regratouris of fische, eggis, butter, cheise, fi'ute, or uther syk stuff, hald ony maner of burdis or cramis to sell syklike stuiF upon the hie gait, nor under staris, bot in thair awin house, under pane of banna- sing of the toune;' [that no manner of persons, men or women, regrettors of fish, eggs, cheese, fruit, or other such stuff, hold any kind of boards or stalls to sell such stuff upon the High Street, nor under stairs, but in their own houses, under pain of banishment from the town]. The penalties were not imposed in the spirit of empty menace. Not long after the act respecting stablers, we find five women banished all at once, because they had ' contempnandlie brokin the said statutis, and coft [bought] corn and aittis in greit to regrait agane.' The pain of banishment is visited upon many others for the like offences. 308 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. It is to be observed, howevei*, that in some instances tlie defaulters are in a short time allowed to return, on their friends giving' surety for their paying obedience to the town's statutes in future. Thus Gilbert Skeillis gives surety for his wife, that she would never again buy hay or oats to sell again ; whereupon 'the said Gilbertis' wyf was relaxit agane to the fredom of the toune as scho was obefor [as she was of before] or [ere] scho was bannist the samyn.' There is reason to conclude that the motive of all these proceedings was a good, though mistaken one. There are various statutes respecting hucksters or retailers, showing that the profit made by these parties on their goods was regarded as an oppression of the lieges — an idea which is still found to exist amongst the working-classes in some of our manufacturing districts. In the statutes under notice, every means is taken to compel those who raise country produce to appear in the market and sell it themselves, as if it had been possible thus to obtain the articles at the mere cost of production, the worthy provost and bailies not ob- sei'ving that the producer required in that case to be remu- nerated for the time he spent as a merchant, and that pro- bably a huckster, combining the goods of many producers, could have afforded to sell the articles at a cheaper rate. An amusing example of the anxiety of the magistracy to keep down prices, is given in a statute ' anent seruandis,' as follows : — ' Item, that because thar is na seruand woman, or nurys [nurse], that gettis in an gude mannis hous throw hir seruice v or vj merkis, bot scho will tak ane hous of hir awin [take a house of her own], and be ane browstar or huckstar, quharthro the nychtbouris of the toune ar hevelie hurt, and the meit and drink rasit darer throto the hying of the samyn at the secund or thrid hand, that tharfor na seruand woman pas fra hir seruice and tak ane hous, without scho be mariit or pas to the bordall, except scho haif the licence of the provest for gud rationabill causis, under the pane of banasing.' For a broker or forestaller of wool and hides to be even seen speaking to the persons who brought those articles to market, on a market day, was an offence visited with punishment. The statute on that subject shows in a peculiar manner how strongly, under the impulse of convenience, private parties were inclined to that division OLD BURGHAL BEGULATIONS. 309 of labour ■whicli is really most for their advantag'e, notwith- standing every effort of erroneous legislation to make them take a different course. Some familiar traits of the time are communicated in these statutes. We find, for instance, David Cristeson banished ' because he is ane young stark fallow [a young stout fellow], and beggis, and will nocht wirk for his leving.' For the same reason, banishment is inflicted on * Richman that singis with, the lass and beggis.' John Anderson, keeper of the tolbooth or jail, obliges himself to keep the statutes of the town in time coming, ' under the pane of the daling of ane barell of ale, till gif utheris ex- empill till brek the said statutis in tyme coming.' Leper folk are forbidden to appear in any market, under pain of being burnt in the cheek and banished the town. The provost and bailies order that Jonet Anderson ' say na dis- plesour nor injuriouse language till Thomas Wauchope nor his spouse, nother oppinlie nor priuatlie, under the bane of bannesing of the toune.' Margaret Smith of her own fi'ee will comes before the council, and obliges herself, ' that fra this tyme furth scho sail nocht use na injurious wordis, blasfeme, nor schame. Dene Alexander Creichtane, vicar of Sanct Cuthbertis Kirk, nother in word nor deid, under the pament of x li [ten pounds] til be gevin till Sanct Gelis werk [an addition then making- to the principal city church]. The council seem to have thought themselves entitled to interfere in everything. They statute and ordain that no person give any wool to card or spin out of their own houses, except ' till honest wedowis or honest falit [disabled] personis houshalderis, under the pane of xl s.' This would be from an anxiety to benefit the poor, for whom there was then no public pi'ovision of any kind. A striking proof of the frequent acts of violence then taking place in the open streets, is found in a statute re- ferring to the slaughters and murders committed in ' tymes bypast,' on account of the officers and neighbours not rising to resist and punish the same ; and ordering that ' every merchand and craftisman haiffand foir buthis [having front shops], that thay haif in thair said buthies ane ax, or twa, or thre, as thay have servandis, and to cum incontinent to the provest and bailies reddy to fortefy and manteine thar our men and justice.' 310 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. The statutes include a period during which the plague visited Edinburgh, and we are presented with many curious notices of the regulations which were thought necessary to be enforced on such an occasion. In October 1529, the disease is spoken of as raging at St Andrews and other places beyond the Forth. People are therefore forbidden, under great penalties, to approach Edinburgh from those districts, or to receive merchandise from the same quarter. On the 23d of November, learning that the disease had spread in St Andrews, mainly from a mistake which pre- vailed at first — namely, that it was 'the het seikness' — the council ordain that all sick persons in Edinburgh keep by themselves, and that notice of them be given to the town officers, under pain of banishment. At the same time none are allowed to pass to the north of the Forth without the provost's license. Sick persons appear to have been obliged by foi'merly existing statutes to go and take up their quar- ters on the common moor without the town ; for Thomas Mereleys, at his own desire, is allowed to come back from the moor to his house in town, ' with his self, wyf, barnis, and guddis, unclengeit,' he becoming obliged, upon his life, goods, and heritage, that no infection shall come within his house through the 'unclenging' of his goods. In February 1530, finding that the danger deepens as the spring ad- vances, still stricter statutes are made on all these points. On the 18th, Margaret Cok is condemned by an assize for coming from St Andrews with infected clothes, and sen- tenced to be burnt on both cheeks, and banished. On the 20th, the inhabitants of Edinburgh and Leith are forbidden to attend the fair at St Monance, a village in Fife, to which it might be supposed that persons with infected goods would be likely to come. The existence of infected persons in the town is first spoken of on the 25th of INIay, and all the statutes are again renewed : people are also forbidden to buy or sell old clothes ; persons keeping swine are com- manded to restrain them from appearing on the street ; and then follows the most sensible ordinance of all — ' Foras- mekle as ther is gret fylth within this toune, baith on the hie gait and in closis [both in the High Street and the alleys leading from it], and als the guttaris of the toune ar full of filith, quharthrow infectionne may spreid and ryse. That tharfore euery man and woman dicht and mak clene befor OLD BURGHAL REGULATIONS. 311 ther durris and closis, and clenge away the filith tharfra, under the pane of punising- of thar personis and gudis at the prouest will.' People having- houses to let are at the same time forbidden to let them to vag-abonds or trampers. Individuals who have been ' in Gladois hous the smyth, or oney other houses that are now suspect of this contagius seikness,' are commanded to reveal the circumstance to the town's officers. Servant women who have hitherto been in, the habit, while conveying their masters' clothes to the water to wash, of taking ' this womanis coller and that womanis curche,' to wash along with their masters' clothes, are forbidden to do so any more, as ' it is unpossable to keep the toune clene gif sik thingis be usit.' On the same day, a woman who had been in the houses of infected persons, and was now infected herself, without revealing either circumstance, is sentenced to be burnt on the cheek and banished the town for life, and to remain on the moor till she be recovered, under pain of death. On the 4th of June, a woman who had a daughter sick without giving information is sentenced to the like punishment, * all her barnis ' being at the same time adjudged to per- petual banishment. Several cases of the same kind occur throughout June and July ; but at length, in August, when probably the danger had become greater, concealment of sick friends is punished with death ! An unfortunate tailor, David Duly by name, had a wife sick ; he kept her con- cealed in his house, and even, while she was ill, went to attend mass in St Giles's Kirk, thereby 'dooand at was in him till half infekkit all the toune.' For this he was ad- judged to be hanged on a gibbet before his own door. The sentence seems to have immediately been carried into exe- cution, for, in the afternoon of the same day, we find an entry stating that Duly had been hung up, but that the * raip ' had broken, and he escaped at the will of God ; for which reason, and because * he is ane pure [poor] man with small barnis, and for pete of him,' the council banish him instead. A few months afterwards, we find that several women were actually put to death [' drounit in the Quarrell holis at the Grey frier port '] for concealing their sickness. Throughout August, the business of ' clenging ' — that is, we presume, of completing quarantine — proceeds under the regulation of various statutes. But even after suspected or 312 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. sick persons had given full satisfaction of their purity from the disease, and had been allowed to come back to their homes with their goods, they were still forbidden to attend mass amongst the other clean people. Such were a few of the doings and sufferings of our citizens in ' the good old times ! ' QUEENSBERRY HOUSE. In the Canongate, on the south side, is a large gloomy building, enclosed in a court, and now used as a refuge for destitute persons. This was formerly the town mansion of the Dukes of Queensberry, and a scene of course of stately life and high political affairs. It was built by the first duke, the willing minister of the two last Stuarts — he who also built Drumlanrig Castle in Dumfriesshire, which he never slept in but one night, and with regard to which it is told that he left the accounts for the building tied up with this inscription — ' The deil pyke out his een that looks herein ! ' Duke William was a noted money-maker and land-acquirer. No little laird of his neighbourhood had any chance with him for the retention of his family property. He was something still worse in the ej'^es of the common people — a perseciitor ; that is, one siding against the Pres- byterian cause. There is a story in one of their favourite books of his having died of the morbus pediculosus, by way of a judgment upon him for his wickedness. In reality, he died of some ordinary fever. It is also stated, from the same authority, that about the time when his Grace died, a Scotch skipper, being in Sicily, saw one day a coach-and- six driving to Mount Vesuvius, while a diabolic voice ex- claimed, 'Open to the Duke of Drumlanrig!' — 'which proves, by the way,' says Mr Sharpe, ' that the devil's porter is no herald. In fact,' adds this acute critic, ' the legend is borrowed from the story of Antonio the Rich, in George Sandys's Travels.'* It appears, from family letters, that the first duchess often residedSn the Canongate mansion, while her husband occu- pied Sanquhar Castle. The lady was unfortunately given * Introduction to Law's Memorials, p. Ixxx. QUEENSBERRY HOUSE. 313 to drink, and there is a letter of hers in which she patheti- cally describes her situation to a country friend, left alone in Queensberry House with only a few bottles of wine, one of which, having been drawn, had turned out sour. Sour wine being' prejudicial to her health, it was fearful to think of what might prove the quality of the remaining bottles. The son of this couple, James, second duke, must ever be memorable as the main instrument in carrying through the Union. His character has been variously depicted. By Defoe, in his Histor-y of the Union, it is liberally pane- gyrised. ' I think I have,' says he, ' given demonstrations to the world that I will flatter no man.' Yet he could not refrain from extolling the 'prudence, calmness, and temper' which the duke showed during that difficult crisis. Un- fortunately, the author of ' Robinson Crusoe,' though not a flatterer, could not insure himself against the usual prepos- sessions of a partisan. Boldness the duke must certainly have possessed, for during the ferments attending the par- liamentary proceedings on that occasion, he continued daily to drive between his lodgings in Holyrood and the Parlia- ment House, notwithstanding several intimations that his life was threatened. His Grace's eldest son, James, was an idiot of the most unhappy sort — rabid and gluttonous, and early grew to an immense height ; which is testified by his coffin in the family vault at Durisdeer, still to be seen, of great length, and unornamented with the heraldric follies which bedizen the violated remains of his relatives. A tale of mystery and horror is preserved by tradition respecting this monstrous being. "While the family resided in Edinburgh, he was always kept confined in a ground apartment, in the western wing of the house, upon the windows of which, till within these few years, the boai'ds still remained by which the dreadful receptacle was darkened, to prevent the idiot from looking out or being seen. On the day the Union was passed, all Edinburgh crowded to the Parliament Close, to await the issue of the debate, and to mob the chief promo- ters of the detested measure on their leaving the House. The whole household of the commissioner went en inasse, with perhaps a somewhat different object, and among the rest was the man whose duty it was to watch and attend Lord Drumlanrig. Two members of the family alone were 314 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. left behind — the madman himself, and a little kitchen-boy who turned the spit. The insane being, hearing everything unusually still around, the house being completely deserted, and the Canongate like a city of the dead, and observing his keeper to be absent, broke loose from his confinement, and roamed wildly through the house. It is supposed that the savoury odour of the preparations for dinner led him to the kitchen, where he found the little turnspit quietly seated by the fire. He seized the boy, killed him, took the meat from the fire, and spitted the body of his victim, which he half-roasted, and was found devouring when the duke, with his domestics, returned from his triumph. The idiot sur- vived his father many years, though he did not succeed him upon his death in 1711, when the titles devolved upon Charles, the younger brother. He is known to have died in England. This horrid act of his child was, according to the common sort of people, the judgment of God upon him for his wicked concern in the Union — the greatest blessing, as it has happened, that ever was conferred upon Scotland by any statesman. Charles, third Duke of Queensberry, who was born in Queensberry House, resided occasionally in it when he visited Scotland ; but as he was much engaged in attend- ing the court during the earlier part of his life, his stay here was seldom of long continuance. After his Grace and the duchess embroiled themselves with the court (1729), on account of the support which they gave to the poet Gay, they came to Scotland, and resided for some time here. The author of the 'Beggar's Opera' accompanied them, and remained about a month, part of which was given to Dum- friesshire. Tradition in Edinburgh used to point out an attic in an old house opposite to Queensberry House where, as an appropriate abode for a poet, his patrons are said to have stowed him. It was said he wrote the Beggar's Opera there ; an entirely gratuitous assumption. In the progress of the history of his writings, nothing of consequence occurs at this time. He had finished the second part of the opera a short while before : after his return to the south, he is found engaged in ' new-writing a damned play, which he wrote several years before, called The Wife of Bath ; a task which he accomplished while living with the Duke of Queensberry in Oxfordshire, during the ensuing months of August, Sep- QUEENSBERRY HOUSE. 315 tember, and October.'* It is known, however, that while in Edinburgh, he haunted the shop of Allan Eamsay, in the Luckenbooths — the flat above that well-remembered and classical shop so long kept by Mr Creech, from which issued the Mirror, Loung-er, and other works of name, and where, for a long course of years, all the literati of Edinburgh used to assemble every day, like merchants at an Exchange. Here Ramsay amused Gay, by pointing out to him the chief public characters of the city, as they met in the fore- noon at the Cross. Here, too. Gay read the Gentle Shep- herd, and studied the Scottish language, so that, upon his return to England, he was enabled to make Pope appreciate the beauties of that delightful pastoral. He is said also to have spent some of his time with the sons of mirth and humour in an alehouse opposite to Queensberry House, kept by one Janet Hall. Jenny HdJs, as the place was called, was a noted house for drinking claret from the butt within the recollection of old gentlemen living in my time. While Gay was at Drumlanrig, he employed himself in picking out a great number of the best books from the library, which were sent to England, whether for his own use or the duke's is not known. Duchess Catherine was a most extraordinary lady, ec- centric to a degree undoubtedly bordering on madness. Her beauty has been celebrated by Pope not in very ele- gant terms — ' Since Queensberry to strip there's no compelling, 'Tis from a handmaid we must take a Helen.' Prior had, at an early period of her life, depainted her irre- pressible temper — ' Thus Kitt}', beautiful and young, And wild as colt untamed, Bespoke the fair from whom she sprang, By little rage inflamed : Inflamed with rage at sad restraint. Which ^Wse mamma ordained ; And sorely vexed to play the saint. Whilst wit and beauty reigned. " Shall I thumb holy books, confined With Abigails forsaken ? Hatty's for other things designed, Or I am much mistaken. * See letters of Gay, Swift, Pope, and Arbuthnot, in Scott's edition o# Swift. S16 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH, Must Lady Jenny frisk about, And visit with her cousins ? At balls must she make all the rout. And bring home hearts by dozens ? What has she better, pray, than I ? What hidden charms to boast. That all mankind for her should die, Whilst I am scarce a toast ? Dearest mamma, for once let me, Unchained, my fortune try ; I'll have my earl as well as she. Or know the reason why. I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score. Make all her lovers fall ; They'll grieve I was not loosed before. She, I was loosed at all." Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way ; Kitty, at heart's desire. Obtained the chariot for a day, And set the world on fire ! ' It is an undoubted fact that, before her marriage, she had been confined in a strait-jacket, on account of mental de- rangement ; and her conduct in married life was frequently such as to entitle her to a repetition of the same treatment. She was, in reality, at all times to a certain extent insane, though the politeness of fashionable society, and the flattery of her poetical friends, seem to have succeeded in passing off her extravagances as owing to an agreeable freedom of carriage and vivacity of mind. Her brother was as clever and as mad as herself, and used to amuse himself by hiding a book in his library, and hunting for it after he had for- got where it was deposited. Her Grace was no admirer of Scottish manners. One of their habits she particularly detested — the custom of eating off the end of a knife. \Vhen people dined with her at Drumlanrig, and began to lift their food in this manner, she used to scream out, and beseech them not to cut their throats; and then she would confound the offending per- sons by sending them a silver spoon or fork upon a salver.* * In a letter from Gay to Swift, dated February 15, 1727-8, we find the sub- ject illustrated as follows: — ' As to my favours from great men, I am in the same state you left me ; but I am a great deal happier, as I have expecta- tions. The Duchess of Queensberry has signalised her friendship to me upon this occasion [the bringing out of the Beggar's Opera] in such a conspicuous manner, that I hope (for her sake) you ■will take care to put your fork to aU its proper uses, and sufier nobody for the future to put their knives in their mouth.' In the P.S. to a letter from Gay to Swift, dated Middleton Stonoy, Novem- QUEENSBEKRY HOUSE. 317 When in Scotland, her Grace always dressed herself in the garb of a peasant girl. Her object seems to have been to ridicule, and put out of countenance, the stately dresses and demeanour of the Scottish gentlewomen who visited her. One evening some country ladies paid her a visit, dressed in their best brocades, as for some state occa- sion. Her Grace proposed a walk, and they were of course under the necessity of trooping off, to the utter discomfi- ture of their starched-up frills and flounces. Her Grace at last pretended to be tired, sat down upon the dirtiest dung- hill she could find, at the end of a farm-house, and saying, 'Pray, ladies, be seated,' invited her poor di-aggled com- panions to plant themselves round about her. They stood so much in awe of her, that they durst not refuse ; and of course her Grace had the satisfaction of aftei'wards laugh- ing at the destruction of their silks. When she went out to an evening entertainment, and found a tea-equipage paraded which she thought too fine for the rank of the owner, she would contrive to overset the table and break the china. The forced politeness of her hosts on such occasions, and the assurances which they made her Grace that no harm was done, &c. delighted her exceedingly. Her custom of dressing like a paysanne once occasioned her Grace a disagreeable adventure at a review. On her attempting to approach the duke, the guard, not knowing her rank or relation to him, pushed her rudely back. This threw her into such a passion, that she could not be appeased tUl his Grace assured her that the men had been all soundly flogged for their insolence. An anecdote scarcely less laughable is told of her Grace as occurring at court, where she carried to the same ex- treme her attachment to plain-dealing and plain-dressing. An edict had been issued forbidding the ladies to appear at the drawing-room in aprons. This was disregarded by the duchess, whose rustic costume would not have been complete without that piece of dress. On approaching the door, she ber 9, 1/29, Gay says — ' To the lady I live with I owe my life and fortune. Think of her with respect — value and esteem her as I do — and never more despise a fork with three prongs. I wish, too, you would not eat from the point of your knife. She has so much goodness, virtue, and generosity, that if you knew her, j'ou would have a pleasure in obejing her as I do. She often wishes she had known you.' 318 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. was stopped by the lord in waiting, who told her that he could not possibly give her Grace admission in that guise, when she, without a moment's hesitation, stripped off her apron, threw it in his lordship's face, and walked on, in her brown gown and petticoat, into the brilliant circle ! Her caprices were endless. At one time when a ball had been announced at Drumlanrig, after the company were all assembled, her Grace took a headache, declared that she could bear no noise, and sat in a chair in the dancing-room, uttering a thousand peevish complaints. Lord Drumlanrig, who understood her humour, said, * Madam, I know how to cure you ; ' and taking hold of her immense elbow-chair, which moved on castors, rolled her several times backwards and forwards across the saloon, till she began to laugh heartily — after which the festivities were allowed to com- mence. The duchess certainly, both in her conversation and letters, displayed a great degree of wit and quickness of mind. Yet nobody perhaps, saving Gay, ever loved her. She seems to have been one of those beings who are too much feared, admired, or envied, to be loved. The duke, on the contrary, who was a man of ordinary mind, had the affection and esteem of all. His temper and dispositions were sweet and amiable in the extreme. His benevolence, extending beyond his fellow -creatures, was exercised even upon his old horses, none of which he would ever permit to be killed or sold. He allowed the veterans of his stud free range in some parks near Drumlanrig, where, retired from active life, they got leave to die decent and natural deaths. Upon his Grace's decease, however, in 1778, these luckless pensioners were all put up to sale by his heartless successor; and it was a painful sight to see the feeble and pampered animals forced, by theu" new masters, to drag carts, &c. till they broke down and died on the roads and in the ditches. Duke Charles's eldest son. Lord Drumlanrig, was alto- gether mad. He had contracted himself to one lady when he married another. The lady who became his wife was a daughter of the Earl of Hopetoun, and a most amiable woman. He loved her tenderly, as she desei'ved ; but, owing to the unfortunate contract which he had engaged in, they were never happy. They were often observed TENNIS COURT. 319 m the beautiful pleasure-grounds at Dnimlanrig weeping' bitterly together. These hapless circumstances had such a fatal effect upon him, that, during a journey to London in 1754, he rode on before the coach in which the duchess travelled, and shot himself with one of his own pistols. It was given out that the pistol had gone off by chance. There is just one other tradition of Drumlanrig to be noticed. The castle, being a very large and roomy mansion, had of course a ghost, said to be the spirit of a Lady Anne Douglas. This unhappy phantom used to walk about the house, terrifying everybody, with her head in one hand, and her fan in the other — are we to suppose, fanning her face ? On the death of the Good Duke, as he was called, in 1778, the title and estates devolved on his cousin, the Earl of March, so well remembered as a sporting character and debauchee of the old school by the name of Old Q. In his time Queensberry House was occupied by other persons, for he had little inclination to spend his time in Scotland. And this brings to mind an anecdote highly illustrative of the wretchedness of such a life as his. When professing, towards the close of his days, to be eaten up with ennui, and incapable of any longer taking an interest in anything, it was suggested that he might go down to his Scotch estates and live among his tenantry. ' I've tried that,' said the blase aristocrat: 'it is not amusing.' In 1801, he caused Queensberry House to be stripped of its ornaments and sold. With fifty-eight fire-rooms, and a gallery seventy feet long, besides a garden, it was offered at the surprisingly low upset price of £900. The government purchased it for a barrack. Thus has passed away the Douglas of Queens- berry from its old place in Edinburgh, where doubtless the money-making duke thought it would stand for ever. TENNIS COURT. Early Theatricals — The Canongate Theatre — Digges and Mrs Bellamy— a Theatrical Riot. < Just without the Water Gate,' says Maitland, ' on the eastern side of the street, was the Royal Tennis Court, an- ciently called the Catchpel [frona Cache, a game since called 320 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Fives, and a favourite amusement in Scotland so early as the reign of James IV.].' The house — a long narrow building "with a court — was burned down in modern times, and rebuilt for workshops. Yet the place continues to possess some interest, as connected with the early and obscure his- tory of the stage in Scotland, not to speak of the tennis itself, which was a fashionable amusement in Scotland in the seventeenth century, and here played by the Duke of York, Law the financial schemer, and other remarkable persons. The first known appearance of the post-reformation theatre in Edinburgh was in the reign of King James VI., when several companies came from London, chiefly for the amuse- ment of the court, including one to which Shakspeare is known to have belonged, though his personal attendance cannot be substantiated. There was no such thing, pro- bably, as a play acted in Edinburgh from the departure of James in 1603, till the arrival of his grandson, the Duke of York, in 1680. Threatened by the ^Vhig party in the House of Commons with an exclusion from the throne of England on account of his adherence to Popery, this prince made use of his exile in Scotland to conciliate the nobles, and attach them to his person. His beautiful young wife, Mary of Modena, and his second daughter, the Ladi/ Anne, assisted, by giving parties at the palace — where, by the by, tea was now first introduced into Scotland. Easy and obliging in their man- ners, these ladies revived the entertainment of the masque, and took parts themselves in the performance. At length, for his own amusement and that of his friends, James had some of his own company of players brought down to Holyrood, and established in a little theatre, which was fitted up in the Tennis Court. On this occasion the remainder of the company playing at Oxford apologised for the diminution of their strength in the following lines written by Drj^den : — ' Discord and plots, which have undone our age, With the same ruin have o'erwhekned the stage. Our house has suffered in the common wo ; We have been troubled with Scots rebels too. Our brethren have from Thames to Tweed departed. And of our sisters, all the kinder-hearted To Edinburgh gone, or coached or carted. TENNIS COTTKT. 321 With bonnj' Blew cap there they act all night, For Scotch half-crowns — in English threepence hight. One njTnph to whom fat Sir John Falstaff 's lean. There, with her single person, fills the scene. Another, with long use and age decayed. Died here old woman, and there rose a maid. Our trusty door-keeper, of former time, There struts and swaggers in heroic rhyme. Tack but a copper lace to drugget suit, And there's a hero made without dispute ; And that which was a capon's tail before. Becomes a plume for Indian emperor. But all his subjects, to express the care Of imitation, go like Indians bare. Laced linen there would be a dangerous thing. It might perhaps a new rebellion bring ; The Scot who wore it would be chosen king.' We learn from Fountainhall's Dmy, that on the cele- bration of the king's birthday, 1681, the duke honoured the magistrates of the city -wnth his presence in the theatre; namely, this theatre in the Tennis Court. No further glimpse of our city's theatrical history is obtained till 1705, when we find a Mr Abel announcing a concert in the Tennis Court, under the patronage of the Duke of Argyll, then acting as the queen's commissioner to the parliament. It is probable that the concert was only a cloak to some theatrical representation. This is the more likely, from a tradition already mentioned of some old members of the Spendthrift Club who once frequented the tavern of a Mrs Hamilton, whose husband recollected hav- ing attended the theatre in the Tennis Court at Holyrood- house, when the play was The Spanish Friar, and many members of the Union parliament were present in the house. Theatrical amusements appear to have been continued at the Tennis Court in the year 1710, if we are to place any reliance upon the following anecdote : — AVhen Mrs Siddons came to Edinburgh in 1784, the late INIr Alexander Camp- bell, author of the History of Scottish Poetry, asked Miss Pitcairn, daughter of Dr Pitcairn, to accompany him to one of the representations. The old lady refused, saying, ■with coquettish vivacity, ' Laddie, wad ye hae an auld lass like me to be running after the play-actors — me that hasna been at a theatre since I gaed -svi' papa to the Canongate in the year tenV The theatre was in those days encou- VOL. VI. • U 322 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. raged chiefly by such Jacobites as Dr Pitcairn. It was de- nounced by the clergy as a hotbed of vice and profanity. After this, we hear no more of the theatre in the Tennis Court. The next place where the drama set up its head was in a house in Carrubber's Close, under the management of an Italian lady styled Signora Violante, who paid two visits to Edinburgh. After her came, in 1726, one Tony Alston, who set up his scenes in the same house, and whose first prologue was written by Ramsay : it may be found in the works of that poet. In 1727, the Society of High Constables, of which Ramsay was then a member, endeavoured to ' suppress the abominable stage-plays lately set up by Anthony Alston.'* Mr Alston played for a season or two, under the fulminations of the clergy, and a pro- secution on their part in the Court of Session. [CANONGATE THEATRE.] From a period subsequent to 1727 till after the year 1753, the Tailors' Hall in the Cowgatef was used as a theatre by itinerating companies, who met with some suc- cess, notwithstanding the incessant hostility of the clergy. It was a house which, in theatrical phrase, could hold from £40 to £45. A split in the company concerned here led to the erection, in 1746-7, of a theatre at the bottom of a t close in the Canongate, nearly opposite to the head of New Street. This house, capable of holding about £70 — the boxes being half-a-crown, and pit one-and-sixpence — was for several years the scene of good acting under Lee, Digges, Mrs Bellamy, and Mrs Ward. We learn from Henry Mackenzie that the tragedy of ' Douglas,' which first appeared here in 1756, was most respectably acted — the two ladies above-mentioned playing respectively Young Nerval * Record of that Society. t The date over the exterior gateway of the Tailors' Hall, towards the Cowgate, is 1644 ; but it is ascertained that the corporation had its hall at this place at an earlier period. An assembly of between two and three hundred clergymen was held here on Tuesday the 27th of February 1638, in order to consider the National Covenant, which was presented to the public next day in the Grayfriars' Church. We are informed by the Earl of Rothes, in his Relations of the transactions of this period, in which he bore so distin- guished a part, that some few objected to certain points in it ; but being taken aside into the garden attached to this hall, and there lectured on the necessity of mutual concession for the sake of the general cause, they were 6ooa brought to give their entire assent. TENNIS COURT. 323 and Lady Randolph. The personal elegance of Digges — understood to be the natural son of a man of rank — and the beauty of Mrs Bellamy, were a theme of interest amongst old people thirty years ago ; but their scandalous life was of course regarded with horror by the mass of respectable society. They lived in a small country-house at Bonnington, between Edinburgh and Leith. It is re- membered that Mrs Bellamy was extremely fond of sing- ing-birds, and kept many about her. When emigrating to Glasgow, she had her feathered favourites carried by a porter all the way, that they might not suffer from the jolting of a carriage. Scotch people wondered to hear of ten guineas being expended on this occasion. Persons under the social ban for their irregular lives often win the love of individuals by their benevolence and sweetness of disposition — qualities, it is remarked, not unlikely to have been partly concerned in their first trespasses. This was the case with Mrs Bellamy. Her waiting-maid, Annie Waterstone, who is mentioned in her Memoirs, lived many years after in Edinburgh, and continued to the last to adore the memory of her mistress. Nay, she was, from this cause, a zealous friend of all kinds of players, and never would allow a slighting remark upon them to pass unre- proved. It was curious to find, in a poor old Scotchwoman of the humbler class, such a sympathy with the follies and eccentricities of the children of Thespis. While under the temporary manag'ement of two Edin- burgh citizens extremely ill qualified for the charge — one of them, by the by, a Mr David Beatt, who had read the rebel proclamations from the Cross in 1745 — a sad accident befell the Canongate playhouse. Dissensions of a dire kind had broken out in the company. The public, as usual, was divided between them. Two classes of persons — the gentle- men of the bar, and the students of the university* — were especially zealous as partisans. Things were at that pass when a trivial incident will precipitate them to the most fearful conclusion. One night, when Hamlet was the play, a riot took place of so desperate a description, that at length * Maitland, in his History of Edinburgh, 1753, says that the encourage- ment given to the diversions at this house ' is so very great, 'tis to be feared it will terminate in the destruction of the imiversitt/. Such diversions,' he adds, ' are noways becoming a seat of the Muses.' 324 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. the house was set on fire. It beinor now necessary for the authorities to interfere, the Town-Guard was called forth, and marched to the scene of disturbance ; but thoug'h many of that veteran corps had faced the worst at Blenheim and Detting-en, they felt it as a totally different thing to be brought to action in a place which they regarded as a pecu- liar domain of the Father of Evil. When ordered, there- fore, by their commander to advance into the house and across the stage, the poor fellows fairly stopped short amidst the scenes, the glaring colours of which at once surprised and terrified them. Indignant at their pusillanimity, the bold captain seized a musket, and placing himself in an attitude equal to anything that had ever appeared on those boards, exclaimed, ' Now, my lads, follow me!' But just at the moment that he was going to rush on and charge the rioters, a trap-door on which he trod gave way, and in an instant the heroic leader had sunk out of sight, as if by magic. This was too much for the excited nerves of the Guard ; they immediately vacated the house, leaving the devil to make his own of it ; and accordingly it was com- pletely destroyed. It is added that, when the captain by and by reappeared, they received him in the quality of a gentleman from the other world ; nor could they all at once be undeceived, even when he cursed them in vigorous Gaelic for a pack of cowardly scoundrels. The Canongate theatre revived for a short time, and had the honour to be the first house in our city m which the drama was acted with a license. It was opened with this privilege by Mr Ross on the 9th December 1767, when the play was The Earl of Essex, and a general prologue was spoken, the composition of James Boswell. Soon after, being deserted for the present building in the New Town, it fell into ruin; in which state it formed the subject of a mock elegy to the muse of Robert Fergusson. The reader will perhaps be amused with the following extract from that poem : — • Can I contemplate on those dreary scenes Of mouldering desolation, and forbid '^ The voice elegiac, and the falling tear ! No more from box to box the basket, piled With oranges as radiant as the spheres. Shall with their luscious virtues charm the sen8» Of taste or smell. No more the gaudy beau^ JLORD AIRTH AND HIS WOFUL WISE WIFE. 325 With handkerchief in lavender well drenched, Or bergamot, or rose-waters pure. With flavoriferous sweets shall chase away The pestilential fumes of vulgar cits, Who, in impatience for the curtain's rise. Amused the lingering moments, and applied Thirst-quenching porter to their parched lips. Alas ! how sadly altered is the scene ! For lo ! those sacred walls, that late were brushed By rustling silks and waving capuchines. Are now become the sport of wrinkled Time ! Those walls that late have echoed to the voice Of stern King Richard, to the seat transformed Of crawling spiders and detested moths. Who in the lonely crevices reside. Or gender in the beams, that have upheld Gods, demigods, and all the joyous crew Of thunderers in the galleries above.' LORD AIRTH AND HIS WOFUL WISE WIFE. In the immediate neighbourhood of the palace, in Croft- angry Lane and St Anne's Yards, are several old-fashioned houses, such as we mig-ht suppose to have been inhabited by nobles and officers of state in the days when our kings held state in Holyrood. One of these, or some similar one which may since have been rebuilt or removed, was the residence of the Earl of Airth, a clever but unfortunate nobleman, who was deprived by Charles I. of his previous title of Earl of Menteith, along with the presidency of the council, and other high offices, for having used the expres- sion ' that he had the reddest blood in Scotland ; ' in which he alluded to his descent from a son of Robert IL, then suspected (erroneously) to have been older than the son from whom his majesty was descended. This nobleman, like many both better and worse men, was afflicted with a bad wife;* respecting whom he has left a paper of grievances, of which the following is the third : — ' This woefull wi/se wife of viyne made propositioune to me that she conceived it not honourabill for me to pay rent for ane house, as I did then for a little house I duelled in, besyde the churchyaird, pertaining to one Ridderfoord, who hade it in heretage, bot that I should rather buy ane house heretablie ; which foolish desyre of that wicked wo- * Agnes, daughter of Patrick Lord Gray. 326 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. man^s I refuised, and toulde her tliat I knew not how long- I should stay at Edinburch, and would not give my money to buy ane hous thair. Bot she replyed that it would serve for ane house for my lands of Kinpount ; which foolish answer of that wicked woman^s shoud her vanitie, and the great desyre she had to stay still in Edinburch ; for the like was never heard, that the house standeth seven mylls from the lands, Kinpount being sevin mylls from Edinburch. Alway, ther being some things between the Earl of Linlithgow and me, he did offer to dispoun to me his hous, which he hade at the back of the Abbay of Halliroodhous, which sumtyme [formerly] belonged to the Lord Elphinstoune. The E. of Linlithgow and I, for the piyce of the hous, yairds, and grass yairds, at the pryce of eight thousand fyve hundreth merks, did agrie, and he dis- poned them to me. And it was no ill pennieworth ; for it was worth the money, hade my goode wyfe conteined her- self so ; bot shee thocht the house too little for my familie, though it was large aneugh. It is to be remarked also, that so shoone as I removed from the little hous I dwelt in besyde the churchyaird, and came to remaine in the hous I bocht from the E. of Linlithgow at the back of the Abbay, that fals knave Traquair did instant come to reside in the litle house wherein I duelt befor, pretending that it wes to be neire the counsell of staite, which did sitt in the Abbay ; bot it wes for ane uther end, that the villaine micht wirk his ends against me. And presentlie efter this, I wente up to Lon- don ; and I wes no shooner gone, bot my wyfe sett to werke all sorte of ti'adesmen, such as quarriers, maissons, sklaitters, vrights, smiths, glasiers, painters, and plaisterers ; and I may say treulie that the money which she bestowed upon hir re-edifieing of that hous and gardens, wes tuyse sa much as I gave for the buying of them from the Earle of Linlithgow. So that in good faith that hous, and the gar- dens and orchards, and uther things which m)/ wyse wyfe bestowed upon it, stoode me in above 25,000 merks Scott money, bot I will only set doun heir 20,000. But after all this, when I wes to remove from Edinburch, I disponed to my son James, heretablie, that hous, gardens, and orchards, and grass yairds; and within two years efter, or therby, that house took fyre accedintallie (as I conceave), and wes totallie burned, as it standeth now ; and so became of everif- LORD AIRTH AND HIS WOFUL WISE WIFE. 327 thing that the iinliappie woman, my wyfc, lade Mr hand to. Bot this is nothing' to that which will follow heire- efter/ &c. The reader will probably think that there is only one particular wanting in this narrative to render it perfect ; and that may be supplied, as it happens, from an old nur- sery jest : — A. Good morning', good fellow. B. I'm not a good fellow ; I'm a new married man. A. Oh, man, that's guid ! B. Not sae guid as ye trow. A. What then, lad ? B. I've gotten an ill-willy wife. A. Oh, man, that's bad ! B. Not sae bad as ye trow. A. What then, lad ? B. She brought me a guid tocher and a well-plenished house. A. Oh, man, that's guid! B. Not sae guid as ye trow. A. What then, lad ? B. The house took a-fire, and brunt baith house, and plenishing, and gear. A. Oh, man, that's bad ! B. Not sae bad as ye trow. A. What then, lad ? B. The ill-willy wife was hurnt in the middle oH ! &c. To quote another of * my devilish wyf hir wyse actes •* namely, the second in the roll : — ' I being ane other tyme at London, the Earle of Galloway made ane propositione to my prudent wyfe of ane marriage of his eldest son the Lord Garlies to my second daughter Margaret ; which shee presentlie did give ear untoo, v/ith- out farther advysment, and contracted and maried them before I returned from London. . . . Now, I pray, con- sider how unfitting ane match this wes for me. First, my father and the Earl of Galloway were cousin -germans, and then our estate lying at so greate ane distance the one frome the uther ; and I am sure / might have maried thrie of my daughters to thrie barouns lying hesyd me, with that portion I gave to Galloicay, any one of which would have been more usfull to me than the Earl of Galloway. They 328 TRADITIONS OP EDINBURGH. had children, hot they all dyed ; 50 that money was als much lost to me as if I had castin it in the sea.' It appears that the unfortunate earl afterwards disposed of his house at the Abbey to the king, but never received the payment. He died in great embarrassment, and was succeeded by his grandson, who also died in impoverished circumstances (1694), and was the last inheritor of the titles Airth and Menteith. The last earl, being at one time obliged to retire to the sanctuary of Holyrood for protec- tion against his debtors, applied to his kinsman and vassal, Malise Graham at Glaschoil, on the southern shore of Loch Katrine, for such a supply of money, or such security, as might relieve him. ' Faithful to the call of his liege lord, Malise instantly quitted his home, dressed like a plain Highlander of those days, travelling alone and on foot. Arriving at the earl's lodgings, he knocked for admittance, when a well-dressed person opening the door, and commi- serating his apparent poverty, tendered him a small piece of money. Malise was in the act of thankfully receiving it, when his master advancing, perceived him, and chid him for doing a thing which, done by his pecuniary friend, might tend to shake his credit more than ever. The High- lander, making his appropriate obeisance, but with the utmost nonchalance, took from his bosom a purse, and handing it to his lordship, addressed him in the following words in Gaelic : — " Here, my lord, see and clear your way with that. As for the gentleman who had the generosity to hand me the halfpenny, I would have had no objection to accept of every halfpenny he had." The story declares that his lordship's necessity was for the time relieved, and that he instantly returned with his faithful vassal to his castle in the Loch of Menteith.' * It is remarkable enough that the Earl of Traquair was another striking example of the instability of fortune in a period of civil commotion. Trusted with high functions by both James VI. and Charles I., being the representative of the latter in the General Assembly and parliament of 1639, he lived to beg his bread in the latter days of the * This anecdote is known in Menteith by the title of ' Malise Graham and the Roe-skin Purse.' It is derived, as well as the preceding extracts, from the Rev. Mr Macgregor Stirling's elegant work on the Priory of lachma- home. 4to. MARIONVILLE — STORY OF CAPTAIN MACRAE. 329 Commonwealth, during' which he died. In the curious manuscript of James Fraser, minister of Kirkhill, occui-s the following- passage respecting the poor earl : ' He proved a true emblem of the vanity of the world — a very meteor. I saw him, anno 1661 [date wrong], begging in the streets of Edinburgh. He was in an antique garb, and a broad old hat, short cloak, and pannier breeches ; and I contri- buted in my quarters in the Canongate towards his relief. We gave him a noble, he standing with his hat off. The Master of Lovat, Culbockie, Glenmorrison, and myself were there, and he received the piece of money from my hand as humbly and thankfully as the poorest supplicant. It is said that at a time he had not to pay for cobbling his boots, and died in a poor cobbler's house.' MARIONVILLE— STORY OF CAPTAIN MACRAE, Between the eastern suburbs of Edinburgh and the vil- lage of Restalrig stands a solitary house named Marionville, enclosed in a shrubbery of no great extent, surrounded by high walls. Whether it be that the place has become dismal in consequence of the rise of a noxious fen in its neighbour- hood, or that the tale connected with it acts upon the ima- gination, I cannot pretend to decide, but unquestionably there is about the house an air of depression and melancholy such as could scai-cely fail to strike the most unobservant passenger. Yet, little more than half a century ago, this mansion was the abode of a gay and fashionable family, who, amongst other amusements, indulged in that of private theatricals, and in this line were so highly successful, that admission to the Marionville theatre became a privilege for which the highest in the land would contend. Mr Macrae, the head of this family, was a man of good fortune, being the proprietor of an estate in Dumfriesshire, and also of good connexions — the Earl of Glencairn, whom Burns has so much celebrated, being his cousin, while by his mother he was nearly related to Viscount Fermoy and the cele- brated Sir Boyle Roach. He had been for some years retired from the Irish Carabineers, and being still in the prime of life, he was thinking of again entering the army, when the 330 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. incident which I am about to relate took place. He was a man of gentlemanlike accomplishments and manners, of a generous and friendly disposition, but marked by a keen and imperious sense of the deference due to a gentleman, and a heat of temper which was apt to make him commit actions of which he afterwards bitterly repented. After the unfortunate affair which ended his career in Scotland, the public, who never make nice distinctions as to the cha- racter of individuals, adopted the idea that he was as inhu- mane as rash, and he was reported to be an experienced duellist. But here he was greatly misrepresented. Mr Macrae would have shrunk from a deliberate act of cruelty ; and the only connection he had ever had with single combat, was in the way of endeavouring to reconcile friends who had quarrelled — an object in which he was successful on several memorable occasions. But the same man — whom all that really knew him allowed to be a delightful companion and kind-hearted man — was liable to be transported beyond the bounds of reason by casual and trivial occurrences. A mes- senger of the law having arrested the Rev. Mr Cunning- ham, brother of the Earl of Glencairn, for debt, as he was passing with a party from the drawing-room to the dining- room at Drumsheuch House, Mr Macrae threw the man over the stair. He was prompted to this act by indignation at the affront which he conceived his cousin, as a gentleman, had received from a common man. But soon after, when it was represented to him that every other means of induc- ing Mr Cunningham to settle his debt had failed, and when he learned that the messenger had suffered severe injury, he went to him, made him a hearty apology, and agreed to pay three hundred guineas by way of compensation. He had himself allowed a debt due to a tailor to remain too long unpaid, and the consequence was, that he received a summons for it before the Sheriff Court. With this docu- ment in his hand, he called, in a state of great excitement, upon his law-agent, to whom he began to read — Archibald Cockburn of Cockpen, sheriff-depute,' &c. till he came to a passage which declared that * he, the said James Macrae, had been oft and diverse times desired and required,' &c. • The greatest lie ever uttered ! ' he exclaimed. ' He had never heard a word of it before ; he would instantly go to the sheriff and horsewhip him.' The agent had at the time MARIONVILLE — STORY OF CAPTAIN MACRAE. 331 letters of horning ag'ainst a very worthy baronet lying upon his table — that is to say, a document in which the baronet was denounced as a rebel to the king, according to a form of the law of Scotland, for failing to pay his debt. The agent took up this, and coolly began to read — ' George III., by the grace of God,' &c. &c. Macrae at once saw the application, and fell a-laughing at his own folly, saying he would go directly and give the sheriff tickets for the play at Marionville, which he and his family had requested. It will be seen that the fault of this unfortunate gentleman was heat of temper, not a savage disposition ; but what fault can be more fatal than heat of temper? Mr Macrae was married to an accomplished lady, Maria Cecilia le Maitre, daughter of the Baroness Nolken, wife of the Swedish ambassador. They occasionally resided in Paris, with Mrs Macrae's relations, particularly with her cousin Madame de la Briche, whose private theatricals in her elegant house at the Marais were the models of those afterwards instituted at Marionville. It may not be un- worthy of notice that, amongst their fellow-performers at Madame de la Briche's, was the celebrated Abbe Sieyes, When Mr Macrae and his lady set up their theatre at Ma- rionville, they both took characters, he appearing to ad- vantage in such parts as that of Dionysius in the Grecian JDmtghter, and she in the first line of female parts in gen- teel comedy. Sir David Kinloch and a Mr Justice were their best male associates ; and the chief female pei'former, after Mrs Macrae herself, was Mrs Carruthers of Dormont, a daughter of the celebrated artist Paul Sandby. When all due deduction is made for the effects of complaisance, there seems to remain undoubted testimony that these perfor- mances involved no small amount of talent. In Mr and Mrs Macrae's circle of visiting acquaintance, and frequent spectators of the Marionville theatricals, were Sir George Ramsay of Banff and his lady. Sir George had recently returned, with an addition to his fortune, from India, and was now settling himself down for the remainder of life in his native country. I have seen original letters between the two families, showing that they lived on the most friendly terms, and entertained the highest esteem for each other. One written by Lady Ramsay to Mrs Macrae, from Sir George's country-seat in Forfarshire, 332 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. ■commences thus — ' My dear friend, I have just time to "write you a few lines to say how much I long to hear from you, and to assure you how sincerely I love you.' Her ladyship adds — ' I am now enjoying rural retirement with Sir George, who is really so good and indulgent, that I am as happy as the gayest scenes could make me. He joins me in kind compliments to you and Mr Macrae,' &c. How deplorable that social affections, which contribute so much to make life pass agreeably, should be liable to a wild upbreak from perhaps some trivial cause, not in itself worthy of a moment's regard, and only rendered of consequence by the sensitiveness of pride, and a deference to false and worldly maxims ! The source of the quarrel between Mr Macrae and Sir George was of a kind almost too mean and ridiculous to be spoken of. On the evening of the 7 th April 1790, the for- mer gentleman handed a lady out of the Edinburgh theatre, and endeavoured to get a chair for her, in which she might be conveyed home. Seeing two men approaching through the crowd with one, he called to ask if it was disengaged, to which the men replied with a distinct affirmative. As Mr Macrae handed the lady forward to put her into it, a foot- man, in a violent manner, seized hold of one of the poles, and insisted that it was engaged for his mistress. The man seemed disordered by liquor, and it was afterwards distinctly made manifest that he was acting without the guidance of reason. His lady had gone home some time before, while he was out of the way : he was not aware of this, and, under a confused sense of duty, he was now eager to obtain a chair for her, but in reality had not bespoken that upon which he laid hold. Mr Macrae, annoyed at the man's pertinacity at such a moment, rapped him over the knuckles with a short cane, to make him give way ; on which the servant called him a scoundrel, and gave him a push on the breast. Incensed overmuch by this conduct, Mr Macrae struck him smartly over the head with his cane, on which the man cried out worse than before, and moved off. Mr Macrae following- him, repeated his blows two or three times, but only with that degree of force which he thought needful for a chastisement. In the meantime, the lady whom Mr Macrae had handed out got into a different chair, and was carried off. Some of the bystanders seeing a gen- MARIONVILLE — STORY OF CAPTAIN MACRAE. 333 tleman beating a servant, cried shame, and showed a dispo- sition to take part with the latter ; but there were indivi- duals present who had observed all the circumstances, and who felt differently. One gentleman afterwai'ds gave evi- dence that he had been insulted by the servant, at an earlier period of the evening, in precisely the same manner as Mr Macrae, and that the man's conduct had through- out been rude and insolent, a consequence apparently of drunkenness. Learning that the servant was in the employment of Lady Ramsay, Mr Macrae came into town next day, full of anxiety to obviate any unpleasant impression which the incident might have made upon her mind. Meeting Sir George in the street, he expressed to him his concern on the subject, when Sir George said, lightly, that the man being his lady's footman, he did not feel any concern in the matter. Mr Macrae then went to apologise to Lady Ram- say, whom he found sitting for her portrait in the lodgings of the young artist Raeburn, afterwards so highly distin- guished. It has been said that he fell on his knees before the lady, to intreat her pardon for what he had done to her servant. Certainly he left her with the impression that he had no reason to expect a quarrel between himself and Sir George on account of what had taken place. James Merry — this was the servant's name — had been wounded in the head, but not severely. The injuries which he had sustained, though nothing can justify the violence which inflicted them, were only of such a nature as a few days of confinement would have healed. Such, indeed, was the express testimony given by his medical attendant. Mi* Benjamin Bell. There was, however, a strong feeling amongst his class against Macrae, who was informed, in an anonymous letter, that a hundred and seven men-servants had agreed to have some revenge upon him. Merry himself had determined to institute legal proceedings against Mr Macrae for the recovery of damages. A process was com- menced, by the issue of a summons which Mr Macrae received on the 12th. Wounded to the quick by this pro- cedure, and smarting under the insolence of the anonymous letter, Mr Macrae wrote next day a note to Sir George Ramsay, in which, addressing him without any term of friendly regard, he demanded that either Merry should 834 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. drop the prosecution, or that his master should turn him off. Sir Georg'e temperately replied 'that he had only now heard of the prosecution for the first time ; that the man met with no encouragement from him ; and that he hoped that Mr Macrae, on further consideration, would not think it incumbent on him to interfere, especially as the man was at present far from being well.' On the same evening Mr Amory, a military friend of Mr Macrae, called upon Sir George with a second note from that gentleman, once more insisting on the man being turned off, and stating that, in the event of his refusal, Mr Amory was empowered to communicate his opinion of his conduct. Sir George did refuse, on the plea that he had yet seen no good reason for his discharging the servant ; and Mr Amory then said it was his duty to convey Mr Macrae's opinion, which was, ' that Sir George's conduct had not been that of a gentleman.' Sir George then said that further conversation was unnecessary; all that re- mained was to agree upon a place of meeting. They met again that evening at a tavern, where Mr Amory informed Sir George that it was Mr Macrae's wish that they should meet, properly attended, next day at twelve o'clock at Ward's Inn, on the borders of Musselburgh Links. The parties met there accordingly, Mr Macrae being at- tended by Captain Amory, and Sir George Ramsay by Sir William Maxwell ; Mr Benjamin Bell, the surgeon, being also of the party. Mr Macrae had brought an additional friend, a Captain Haig, to favour them with his advice, but not to act formally as a second. The two parties being in different rooms. Sir William Maxwell came into that occu- pied by Mr Macrae, and proposed that, if Mr Macrae would apologise for the intemperate style of his letters demanding the discharge of the servant, Sir George would grant his request, and the affair would end. Mr Macrae answered that he would be most happy to comply with this proposal if his friends thought it proper ; but he must abide by their decision. The question being put to Captain Haig, he answered, in a deliberate manner, *' It is altogether impos- sible ; Sir George must, in the first place, turn off his ser- vant, and Mr Macrae will then apologise.' Hearing this speech, equally marked by wrong judgment and wrong feeling, Macrae, according to the testimony of Mr Bell, MARIONVILLE — STORY OF CAPTAIN MACRAE. 335 shed tears of ang'uish. The parties then walked to the beach, and took their places in the usual manner. On the word being given, Sir George took deliberate aim at Macrae, the neck of whose coat was grazed by his bullet. Macrae had, if his own solemn asseveration is to be be- lieved, intended to fire in the air ; but when he found Sir George aiming thus at his life, he altered his resolution, and brought his antagonist to the ground with a mortal wound in the body. There was the usual consternation and unspeakable dis- tress. Mr Macrae went up to Sir George and ' told him that he was sincerely afflicted at seeing him in that situa- tion.'* It was with difficulty, and only at the urgent re- quest of Sir William Maxwell, that he could be induced to quit the field. Sir George lingered for two days. The event occasioned a great sensation in the public mind, and a very unfavourable view was generally taken of Mr Mac- rae's conduct. It was given out, that during a consider- able interval, while in expectation of the duel taking place, he had practised pistol-shooting in his garden at a barber's block ; and he was also said to have been provided with a pair of pistols of a singularly apt and deadly character ; the truth being, that the interval was a brief one, his hand totally unskilled in shooting, and the pistols a bad brass- mounted pair, hastily furnished by Amory. We have Amory's testimony that, as they were pursuing their jour- ney to another country, he was constantly bewailing the fate of Sir George Ramsay, remarking how unfortunate it was that he took so obstinate a view about the servant's case. The demand, he said, was one which he would have thought it necessary to comply with. He had asked Sir George nothing but what he would have done had it been his own case. This is so consonant with what appears otherwise respecting his chai'acter, that we cannot doubt it. It is only to be lamented that he should not have made the demand in terms more calculated to lead to compliance. The death of an amiable man under such deplorable cir- cumstances roused the most zealous vigilance on the part of the law authorities ; but Mr Macrae and his second succeeded in reaching France. A summons was issued for ms trial, but he was advised not to appear, and accordmgly * Letter of Captain Amory, MS. 336 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. sentence of outlawry was passed against him. The ser- vant's prosecution meanwhile went on, and was ultimately decided against Mr Macrae, although, on a cool perusal of the evidence on both sides, there appears to me the clearest proof of Merry having been the first aggressor. Mr Macrae lived in France till the progress of the Revolution forced him to go to Altona. When time seemed to have a little softened matters against him, he took steps to ascertain if he could safely return to his native country. It was decided by counsel that he could not. They held that his case entirely wanted the extenuating circumstance which was necessary — his having to contemplate degradation if he did not chal- lenge. He was under no such danger ; so that, from his letters to Sir George Ramsay, he appeared to have forced on the duel purely for revenge. He came to see the case in this light himself, and was obliged to make up his mind to perpetual self-banishment. He survived thirty years. A gentleman of my acquaintance, who had known him in early life in Scotland, was surprised to meet him one day in a Parisian coiFee-house after the peace of 1814 — the wreck or ghost of the handsome sprightly man he had once been. The comfort of his home, his country, and friends, the use of his talents to all these, had been lost, and himself obliged to lead the life of a condemned Cain, all through the one fault of a fiery temper. Reader, if thou shouldst ever feel thyself hurried by such a cause towards rash woi'ds and acts, however trivial, think on the fate of this unhappy man, pause, and be cool. Thou little knowest what may arise from a small ill-considered action. A rap over a ser- vant's knuckles led to a scene of disgusting violence ; four or five days after, a short imperious letter, beginning * Sir,' brought two gentlemen to a field, where one fell in the prime of his days, and whence the other fled to be a re- morseful and miserable exile for the remainder of his life. ALISON SQUARE. This is a large mass of building between Nicolson Square and the Potterrow, in the south side of the town. It was built about the middle of the eighteenth century, ALISON SQUARE. 337 upon venture, by one Colin Alison, a joiner, who in after life was much reduced in his circumstances, not improbably in consequence of this large speculation. In his last days he spent some of his few remaining- shillings in the erection of two boards, at different parts of his buildings, whereon was represented a globe in the act of falling, with this inscrip- tion— ' If Fortune smile, be not puffed up, And if it fro>vn, be not dismayed ; For Providence governeth all, Although the world's turned upside do\vTi. Alison Square has enjoyed some little connection with the Scottish muses. It was in the house of a Miss Nimmo, in this place, that Burns met Clarinda. It would amuse the reader of the ardent letters which passed between these two kindred souls to visit the plain, small, dusky house in which the lady lived at that time, and where she received several visits of the poet. It is situated in the adjacent humble street called the Potterrow, the first floor over the passage into General's Entry, accessible by a narrow spiral stair from the court. A little parlour, a bedroom, and a kitchen, constituted the accommodations of Mrs M'Lehose; now the residence of two, if not three families in the extreme of humble life. Here she lived with a couple of infant children, a young and beautiful woman, blighted in her prospects in consequence of an unhappy marriage (her husband having deserted her, after using her barbarously), yet cheerful and buoyant, through constitutional good spirits and a rational piety. To understand her friendship with Burns, and the meaning of their correspondence, it was almost necessary to have known the woman. Seeing her, and hearing her converse, even in advanced life, one could penetrate the whole mystery very readily, in appreciating a spirit unusually gay, frank, and emotional. The perfect innocence of the woman's nature was evident at once ; and by her friends it was never doubted. In Alison Square Thomas Campbell lived while compos- ing his Pleasures of Hope. The place where any death- less composition took its shape from the author's brain is worthy of a place in the chart. A lady, the early friend of Campbell and his family, indicates their residence at that time as being the second door in the stair, entered fi-om the VOL. VI. V 338 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. east side, on the north side of the arch, the windows look- ing- partly into Nicolson Square and partly to the Pot- terrow. The same authority states that much of the poem was written in the middle of the night, and from a sad cause. The poet's mother, it seems, was of a temper so ex- tremely ii-ritable, that her family had no rest till she retii'ed for the nig-ht. It was only at that season that the youngs poet could command repose of mind for his task. LEITH WALK. Up to the period of the building- of the North Bridge, which connects the Old with the New Town of Edinburgh, the Easter Road was the principal passage to Leith. The origin of Leith Walk was accidental. At the approach of Cromwell to Edinburgh, immediately before the battle of Dunbar, Leslie, the Covenanting general, arranged the Scot- tish troops in a line, the right wing of which rested upon the Caiton Hill, and the left upon Leith, being designed for the defence of these towns. A battery was ei'ected at each extremity, and the line was itself defended by a trench and a mound, the latter composed of the earth dug from the former. Leslie himself took up his head-quarters at Broughton, w*hence some of his despatches are dated. When the war was shifted to another quarter, this mound became a foot- way between the two towns. It is thus described in a book published in 1748 : — ' A very handsome gravel walk, twenty feet bi'oad, which is kept in good repair at the public charge, and no horses suffered to come upon it.' When Provost Drummond built the North Bridge in 1769, he contem- plated that it should become an access to Leith, as well as to the projected New Town. Indeed he seems to have been obliged to make it pass altogether under that semblance, in order to conciliate the people ; for, upon the plate sunk under the foundations of the bridge, it is solelj' described as the opening of a road to Leith. At that time the idea of a new town seemed so chimerical, that he scarcely dared to avow his patriotic intentions. After the opening of the bridge, the Walk seems to have become used by carriages, but without any regard being paid to its condition, or any LEITH WALK. 33lt system established for keeping' it in repair. It consequently fell into a state of disorder, from which it was not rescued till after the commencement of the present century, when a splendid causeway was formed at a great expense by the city of Edinburg-h, and a toll erected for its payment. One teri'ible peculiarity attended Leith Walk in its former condition. It was overhung- by a g^ibbet, from which were suspended all culprits whose bodies at condemnation were sentenced to be hung in chains. The place where this gibbet stood, called the Gallow-Lee, is now a good deal altered in appearance. It w-as a slight rising ground imme- diately above the site of the toll, and on the west side of the road, being- now partly enclosed by the precincts of a villa, where the beautiful Duchess of Gordon once lived. The greater part of the Gallow-Lee now exists in the shape of mortar in the walls of the houses of the New Town. At the time when that elegant city was built, the proprietor of this redoubtable piece of ground, finding it composed of excellent sand, sold it all away to the builders, to be converted into mortar, so that it soon, from a rising ground, became a deep hollow. An amusing anecdote is told in connection with this fact. The honest man, it seems, was himself fully as much of a sand-bed as his property. He was a big, volu- minous man, one of those persons upon whom drink never seems to have any effect. It is related that every day, while the carts were taking away his sand, he stood regularly at the place receiving the money in return ; and every little sura he got was immediately converted into liquor, and applied to the comfort of his inner man. A public-house was at length erected at the spot for his particular behoof; and assuredly, as long as the Gallow-Lee lasted, this house did not want custom. Perhaps, familiar as the reader may be with stories of sots who have drunk away their last acre, he never before heard of the thing being done in so literal a manner. If my reader be an inhabitant of Edinburgh of an}- standing, he must have many delightful associations of Leith Walk in connection with his childhood. Of all the streets in Edinburgh or Leith, the Walk, in former times, was cer- tainly the street for boys and girls. From top to bottom, it was a scene of wonders and enjoyments peculiarly devoted to children. Besides the panoramas and caravan-shows, which 340 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. were comparatively transient spectacles, there were severa. shows upon Leith Walk, which mig'ht be considered as regu- lar fixtures, and part of the country cousin sights of Edin- burgh. Who can forget the wax-works of ' Mrs Sands, widow of the late G. Sands,' which occupied a laigh shop opposite to the present Haddington Place, and at the door of which, besides various parrots, and sundry birds of Para- dise, sat the wax figui'e of a little man in the dress of a French courtier of the ancim regime, reading one eternal copy of the Edinburgh Advertiser ? The very outsides of these wonder-shops was an immense treat : all along the Walk, it was one delicious scene of squirrels hung out at doors, and monkeys dressed like soldiers and sailors, with holes behind where their tails came through. Even the half-penniless boy might here get his appetite for wonders to some extent gratified. Besides being of old the chosen place for shows, Leith Walk was the Rial to of objects. This word requires expla- nation. It is applied by the people of Scotland to persons who have been born with, or overtaken by, some miserable personal evil. Fi'om one end to the other, Leith Walk was garrisoned by poor creatures under these circumstances, who, from handbarrows, wheelbarrows, or iron legs, if perad- venture they possessed such adjuncts, intreated the passen- gers for charity — some by voices of song, some by speech, some by driddling, as Burns calls it, on fiddles, or grinding on hand-organs — indeed a complete continuous ambuscade against the pocket. Shows and objects have now alike vanished from Leith Walk — the former to the Mound, the latter to the home of the last year's snow. It is now a plain street, composed of little shops of the usual suburban ap- peai'ance, and characterised by nothing peculiar, except, perhaps, a certain air of pretension, which is, in some cases, abundantly ludicrous. A great number, be it observed, are mere tiled cottages, which contrive, by means of lofty ficti- tious fronts, plastered and painted in a showy manner, to make up a good appearance towards the street. If there be a school in one of those receptacles, it is entitled an aca- demy ; if an artisan's workshop, however humble, it is a manufactory. Everything about it is still showy and in- substantial; it is still, in some measure, the type of what it formerly was. LEITH WALK. 341 Near the bottom of Leith Walk is a row of somewhat old- fashioned houses bearing the name of Spring^eld. A large one, the second from the top, was, seventy 3'ears ago, the resi- dence of Mr M'CullochofArdwell, a commissioner of customs, and noted as a man of pleasantry and wit. Here, in some of the last years of his life, did Samuel Foote occasionally appear as Mr M'Culloch's guest — Arcades amho et respon- dere parati. But the history of their intimacy is worthy of being particularly told ; so I transcribe it from the recol- lection of a gentleman whose advanced age and family con- nexions could alone have made us faithfully acquainted with circumstances so remote from our time. In the winter of 1775-6 [more probably that of 1774—5], Mr M'Culloch visited his country mansion in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, in company with a friend named Mouat, in order to be present at an election. Mr M'Culloch was a man of joyous temperament, and a good deal of wit, and used to amuse his friends by spouting half-random verses. He and his friend spent a week or two very pleasantly in the country, and then set out on their return to Leith ; Mr M'Culloch carrying with him his infant son David, fami- liarly called Wee Davie, for the purpose of commencing his education in Edinburgh. To pursue the narrative of my correspondent : — ' The two travellers got on pretty well as far as Dumfries ; but it was with difficulty, occasioned by a snow-storm, that they reached Moifat, where they tarried for the night. ' Early in a January morning, the snow having fallen heavily during the preceding night, they set oif in a post- chaise and four horses to proceed on their perilous journey. Two gentlemen in their own carriage left the King's Arms Inn (then kept by James Little) at the same time. With difficulty the first pair of travellers reached the top of Erick- stane, but farther they could not go. The parties came out of their carriages, and, aided by their postilions, they held a consultation as to the prudence of attempting to proceed down the vale of Tweed. This was considered as a vain and dangerous attempt, and it was therefore determined on to return to Moffat. The turning of the carriages having become a dangerous undertaking. Wee Davie had to be taken out of the chaise and laid on the snow, wrapt in a blanket, until the business was accomplished. The parties 342 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. then went back to Moffat, arnving- there between nine and ten in the morning-. Mr M'Culloch and his friend then learnt that of the two strang-ers who had left the inn at the same time, and. had since returned, one was the celebrated Foote, and the other either Ross or Souter, but which of the two favourite sons of Thalia I cannot remember at this distant period of time. Let it be kept in mind that Foote had lost a leg, and walked with difficulty. '■ Immediately on returning, Foote had entered the inn, not in good-humour, to order breakfast. His carriage stood opposite the inn door, in order to get the luggage taken oif. While this was going on, a paper was placarded on one of the panels. The wit came out to see how all matters were going on, when, observing the paper, he in wrath ex- claimed, " What rascal has been placarding his ribaldry on my carriage?" He had patience, however, to pause and read the following lines : — " While Boreas his flaky storm did guide, Deep covering every liill, o'er Tweed and Clyde, The north- wind god spied travellers seeking way ; Sternly he cried, ' Retrace your steps, I say ; Let not one foot, 'tis my behest, profane The sacred snows which lie on Erickstane.' " The countenance of our wit now brightened, as he called out, with an exclamation of surprise, " I should like to know the fellow who wrote that ; for be he who he may, he's no mean hand at an epigram." Mrs Little, the good but eccentric landlady, now stepped forward and spoke thus : — " Trouth, Maister Fut, it's mair than likely that it was our frien^ Maister M'Culloch of Ardwell that did it ; it's weel kent that he's a poyet ; he's a guid eneugh sort o' man, but he never comes here without poyet-teasing mysel' or the guidman, or some ane or other about the house. It wud be weel dune if ye wud speak to him." Ardwell now came forward, muttering some sort of apology, which Foote in- stantly stopt by saying, " My dear sir, an apology is not necessary ; I am fair game for eveiy one, for I take any one for game when it suits me. You and I must become acquainted, for I find that we are brother poets, and that we were this morning companions in misfortune on ' the sacred snows of Erickstane.'" Thus began an intimacy which the sequel will show turned out to be a lasting one. LEITH WALK. 343 The two parties now joined at the breakfast table, as they did at every other meal for the next twenty days. 'Foote remained quiet for a few hours after breakfast, until he had beat about for g-ame, as he termed it, and he tii'st fixed on worthy Mrs Little, his hostess. By some occult means he had manag-ed to get hold of some of the old lady's habiliments, particularly a favourite nig-htcap — pro- vincially, a mutch. After attiring himself a la IMrs Little, he went into the kitchen and through the house, mimickino- the garrulous landlady so very exactly in giving orders, scolding, &c. that no servant doubted as to its being the mistress in propria persona. This kind of amusement went on for several days for the benefit of the people in MolFat. By and by, the snow allowed the united parties to advance as far as the Crook, upon Tweed, and here they were again storm-stayed for ten days. Nevertheless, Foote and his companion, who was well qualified to support him, never for a moment flagged in creating merriment, or affording the party amusement of some sort. The snow cleared away at last, so as to enable the travellers to reach Edinburgh, and there to end their journey. The intimacy of Foote and Ard- well did not end here, but continued until the death of Foote. ' After this period, Foote several times visited Scotland : he always in his writings showed himself partial to Scotland and to the Scotch. On every visit which he afterwards made to the northern metropolis, he set apart a night or two for a social meeting with his friend Ardwell, whose family lived in the second house from the head of that pretty row of houses more than half-way down Leith Walk, still called Springfield. In the parlour, on the right-hand side in entering that house, the largest of the row, Foote, the celebrated wit of the day, has frequently been associated with many of the Edinburgh and Leith worthies, when and where he was wont to keep the table in a roar. ' The biography of Foote is well known. However, I may add that Mr Mouat and Mr M'Culloch died much lamented in the year 1793. David M'Culloch (Wee Davie) died in the year 1824, at Cheltenham, much regretted. For many years he had resided in India. In consequence of family connexion, he became a familiar visitor at Abbotsford, and a favourite acquaintance of Sir Walter Scott.* Mr Lock- * Sir Walter's brother Thomas was married to a sister of Mr M'Culloch. 344 TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. hart tells us that, next to Tom Moore, Sir Walter thought him the finest warbler he had ever heard. He was cer- tainly an exquisitely fine singer of Scotch songs. Sir Walter Scott never heard him sing until he was far ad- vanced in life, or until his voice had given way to a long residence in India. Mr Lockhart also tells us that David M'CuUoch in his youth was an intimate and favourite com- panion of Burns, and that the poet hardly ventured to pub- lish many of his songs until he heard them sung by his friend. I will only add, that the writer of this has more than once heard Burns say that he never fully knew the beauty of his songs until he heard them sune: by David M'CuUoch.' INDEX. PAGE AcHEso.v, Sir Archibald, House of, - - - 288 Advertiser (newspaper) com- menced 1703, - - - 51 Airth, Lord, and his Woful Wise Wife, - - - 325 Airth and Menteith, Earl of, Anecdote of, - • 328 Ale, Regulations anent the Sale of, 306 Alison Square, - - - 336 Alva, Lord Justice Clerk, - ly7 Anderson's PUls, - - 29 Amot, Hugo, Anecdotes of, 17 Assemblies Eighty Years ago, 9 Assembly Room of Last Century, 254 , Regulations of, 255 • , the Old, - 45 Auld Rteliie, origin of the Sou- briquet, - - . 147 Bacchanalian Customs, - 133-152 Baird, Sir David, born in Gordon House, - - - 22 Balfour, Sir James, Letter of, 290 Balfour, Singing Jamie, - 137 Bank Close, the Old, - 69 Bargains, Ancient Manner of Consummating, - - 97 Begbie Tragedy, the, - - 263 Bellamy, Mrs, the Actress, 323 Bethune, Archbishop, his palace, 218 Bickers, - - - 182 Bickers, Anecdote of, by Scott, 184 Black of Balbimey, his house, 203 Blackbird, a Jacobite, - 31 Blackfriars' Wynd, - - 218-230 Blanket, the Blue, - - 176 Boarding - Schools of the Last Century, - - - 220 Bongrace, the, described, - 193 Booths, the, - - 102 Boswell, James, his residence, 60 , , visited by John- son in 1773, - - - 61 Bothwell, Anne, Story of, - 92 Bothwell Bridge Prisoners, Place of Confinement of, - 269 Bothwell, Commendator, his house, - - -91 PABB Bow, the West, - - 28-56 Bowed Joseph, the Mob Leader, 178 Bouhead, the, - - 29 Bowhead Saints, - - 31 Bread, Regulations anent the Price of, ^ - - - 306 Brodie, William, the Bui-glar, 86 Brown, James, builds George's Square, - - - 11 Brown Square Built, - U , its Celebrated In- habitants, - - - 11 Bruce of Kennet's House, - 8 Buccleuch and Monmouth. Duchess of, - - 298-3{Ki Burghal Regulations, Old, 3f)6-312 Burke, Ned, and Prince Charles, 17' Bums's Clarinda, her residence, 337 Caddies or Cawdies, - - 169 Calash, the, a Species of Hood, 193 Campbell, Mungo, the Murderer, 85 Campbell, Thomas, his residence, 337 Campbell of Laguine, the litigant, 130 Canongate, the, - 274-279 -, Distinguished Inha- bitants of Canongate Theatre, Capuchin, a sort of Cloak, Camwath Family, residence of. Castle Hill, the, promenade. Chairmen, . . - Changes of the Last Eighty Years, 275 322 193 203 16 170 7 Chiesly of Dairy Executed, - 73 Clarinda, residence of, - 337 Claudero, Poet and Pamphleteer, 301 , his Productions, 302-305 Cleanse-the-Causeway, Skirmish j of, - - - 232 Clubs, Convivial, - 144-152 ! Coalstoun, Lord, and hia Wig, 90 I Cockburn, Mrs, authoress of j ' Flowers of the Forest," - 59 I CoUegeWynd, - - - 23;> Concerts of St Cecilia's Hall, 239 Convivialia, - - 132-152 Council of the Parliament Close, 108 Court of Session Garland, - 120 Covenant, Signing of the, - 269 346 PAGE Cowgate, the, • 231-238 Craig, James, plana the New Town, 13 Creech, the Bookseller, his shop, 97 Crochallan Fencibles, - - 159 Cromwell, residence of, when in Edinburgh, - - 93, 284 Cross, the, - - - 168 Cullen, Robert, afterwards Lord CuUen, - - - 250 Dalgleish, John, the Hangman, 54 Dancing, State of, in Scotland before 1710. - - - 46 Darnlej , Murder of, - 246 DeidChack, Custom of, - 107 Dick, Lady Anne, her Eccen- tricities, - - - 216 Dick, Sir William, Fate of, - 74 Dick, Sir James, of Prestonfield, 76 Dirt Court, - - 108 Donaldsons, the Booksellers, - 50 Donaldson's Hospital, - 51 Douglas Family — (Queensberry House), - - - 312 Douglas, Gavin, House of, 231 Dress, various articles of. One Hundred Years ago, - - 195 Dresses, Female, of the Last Cen- tury, - - - - 192 Drumniond, Bishop Abernethy, 219 Drummond, Provost, improves Edinburgh, - - 10, 11 Dundas, Lord President, - 127 Dunkeld, Bishop of, his residence, 214 Edinburgh Eighty Years ago, - 7 , History of, by Arnot, I7 Eglintoune, Susanna, Countess of, 185 , , visited by Johnson, - - - 191 Excise-Office, ancient Sites of, 238 Falconer, Author of ' The Ship- wreck,' his father's residence, 268 Female Accomplishments of the Last Century, - - 221 Female Dresses of Last Cen- tury, - - - 192-197 ' Flowers of the Forest,' authoress of, - - - - 59 Foote, Samuel, visits Edinburgh, 343 Fountainhall, Lord, - 61 Gallow-Lee, in Leith Walk, - 339 Gallows Stone, the, - 52 Gardenstone, Lord, - - 127 Gardiner, Colonel, - 31 Gay, the Poet, visits Edinburgh, 314 Geddes, Jenny. Story of, - 98 George Street Commenced, - 13 Glenorchy, Lady, - - 199 PAGE Goldsmith's Account of Edin- burgh Assemblies, - - 47 Goldsmiths, - - Ui4 Golfer, John Paterson, the, - 294 Golfing, Anecdotes concerning, 295 Gordon, Duchess of, her House in 1753, - - - 288 Gordon Family, House of, - 21 Grange, Lady, Story of, - 204 Grayfriars' Churchyard, - 268 Guard, the Town, • - 172 Guise, Mary de. House of, - 24 Hailes, Lord, - - 126 Hangman's Craig, the, - - 54 Hangmen of Edinburgh, - 53 Haunted Houses, - 36, 37 Henderson, Alexander, his Mo- nument, - - - 269 Heriot, George, - - 105 High, John, the last Edinburgh Hangman, - - 55 Hooped Petticoats, - - 194 Hope, Sir Thomas, his residence, 7 •, his Diary, - 72 Hope's Close, Howard, Lady Elizabeth, her House, ... Hume, David, his residence. 291 56 -, Anecdotes of, 56-6ii Inns, Jacobite Anecdotes, Jail, old, James's Court, Justice in Bygone Times, Kames, Lord, -, his House, 8, 152 32 78-89 56-62 - 112 125 279 Kerr, the Goldsmith, his shop, Kinnaird Family, residence of, 203 Kirk-o'-Field, Darnley Murdered at, ... 246 Kirks of St Giles, Characters of, 107 Knockers, Introduction of, - 200 Knox, John, his Manse, - 258 Krames, the, - - - 96 Lady Stair's Close, - - 63 Lady's Steps, Our, - - 97 Lang Gait, the (now Princes Street), - - - 12 Leith Walk, - - - 338 Libraries, Circulating, first estab- lished by Allan Ramsay, - 97 Litigation, Love of (anecdotes), 129-132 Lockhart's Court, - - 20ii Lockhart of Covington, - 123 Lockhart, President, Assassina- tion of, - - - 73 347 PA'iE Lorimers, the Seat of the, • 223 Lovat, Lady, Account of, 224-230 Lovat, Lord, Anecdotes of, 197, 224-227 Luckenbooths, Some Memories of, ... 89-97 Macfarlane, Mrs, Story of, - 271 Mackenzie, ' Bluidy Mackingie,' 215 Macrae, Captain, Story of, 329-336 Magdalen Chapel (jxrft'), - 238 Mahogany Land, - - 69 Marionville, - - 329 Market Regulations, Old, - 3U7 Marlin, the Pavier, Tradition of, 201 Marlin's Wynd, - - 201 Marr, John, Earl of, his Scheme for Improving Edinburgh, - 10 Mary de Guise, House of, - 24 Maxwell, Lady, of Monreith, 2(;o M'CuUochof Ardwell, his House. 341 Foote's Inti- 342 214 macy \vith, Melrose, Abbot of, his Lodging, Merchants, Rich, of the Sixteenth Century, ... 74 Merchants of the West Bow, - r)5 Mint Close, - - 248 Mint, the (Cunyie House), - 24H Mitchell, William, the Tinklarian Doctor, - - - 42 Mobs, Edinburgh, - 176-182 Monboddo, Lord, 127 -, his residence in St John's Street, - - 280 Montrose, Marquis of, led to Exe- cution, ... 285 Moray House, - - - 283 , Cromwell resides at, . - - - 284 Morocco Land, - • 278 Morton, Ex-regent, Executed 1581 , 70 Murray, Miss Nicky, - - 253 Murray, the Regent, Tomb of, 99 Musical Concerts, - - 239-245 Mutrie's Hill [Register Office], 12 Nairne, Katherine, Story of, - 83 Ned Burke and Prince Charles, I71 Negligee, the, a sort of Gown, 193 Negro Servant, first, in Edin- burgh, ... 68 Netherbow, the, - 257-262 New Town, Extension of, in 1800, - - . - 14 , Nicol, the insane litigant, - 132 j Niddry's Wynd, . - 201 I Nor' Loph, Memorials of, 109-111 North Bridge Built (1767), - 11 Old To^vn, relics of gentility. Oratories, PAGE Pages, Keeping of, - - 300 Panmure House, - - 292 Parliament Close, the, 101-109 Parliament House, the, - 111-132 Parliament House Worthies, - 129 Paterson, John, the Golfer, 294 Patullo, William, Story of, - 36 Peat or Pate, a, in Court of Ses- sion, - - - 116 Peebles, Peter, the litigant, - 129 Pins and Knockers, - 199 Plague, City Visited by the, - 310 Plaids Worn by Ladies, - 195 Plotter, the (Robert Fergusson), 83 Poker Club Eighty Years ago, 9 Porteous, Murder of, - 53 Post-Office in Olden Times, - 124 Potatoes, First Planted in Scot- land, - - • 296 Potatoes, Anecdotes Concerning, 296 Prentice, Henry, and Potatoes, 296 Prince Charles, Printing - Press used by, - - - 71 Princes Street Commenced, 13 Queensberry, Catherine, Duchess of, her Eccentricities, - 315-318 Queensberry House, - 312-319 Queensberry, James, Duke of, 313 Ramsay, Allan, his House, die., )9 , , his Sister's Ec- centricities, - - - 21 Ramsay's Inn, - - 166 Romieu, Paul, the Watchmaker, 48 Sabbath-Breakers, Treatment of, 31 Schools, Boarding, of the Last Century, - - - 226 Scott, Sir Walter, House in which he was Born, - - . 234 Scoundrel's Walk, - - 108 Seizers for Sabbath-Breaking, 31 Selkirk, Earl of, his residence, 2.i3 Sinkum, the Cawdy, - 126 Smith, Adam, his residence, - 293 , , Anecdote of, 294 Smollett, Anecdote of, - 280-282 Somervilles, Anecdotes of, - 38 St Andrew's, Archbishop of, his residence, - - 214 St Cecilia's Hall, Chief Perform- ers at, ... 243 St Cecilia's Hall, Concerts of, 239 St David Street, Origin of the Name, ... .5^ St George's Square Built, - 1 1 St Giles's Church, some Memo- randa of, - - - 98-101 St John Street, - - - 279 Stair, Countess, Story of, - &! 348 stairs, Outside,