In time buildings began to spring up along the line of these defences, a gravel path was laid down and coaches would ferry people to and from the port. Leith Walk was born!
At around the halfway point, just where the traditional boundary where Edinburgh and Leith meet is an area called Shrubhill. This was a sandy hill on the western side of the road. Being outside the city boundaries this was the city of Edinburgh disposed of its more troublesome problems!
In 17th century Edinburgh public executions were a common spectacle. But sometimes there was a problem where a person sentenced to execution was either too high profile or for one reason or another there was concern that the execution may cause unrest. In some cases the manner of execution was too much even by 17th century standards. Edinburgh chose the Gallow Lee in Shrubhill to deal with its dirty business. A permanent 'gibbet' was set up on the hill and on most days a body would be seen swinging from it. Witches were put to death, sometimes mercifully strangled before being burned and as the years progressed the ashes of the dead added to the sandy mound.
Covenanter executions were a frequent site too and there were a few high profile scandalous murderers who were put to death on the Gallow Lee: There was the Reverent John Kelloe for example; a respectable minister from Dunbar who had murdered his wife. Another very notable 'customer' was Norman Ross, a footman who had murdered his employer Lady Baillie, sister of the Laird of Wedderburn. For around two years his rotting corpse was left to swing on the gibbet being picked at by crows.
Until halfway into the 18th century this ghastly landmark stood on the route into Edinburgh. However the draining of the Nor loch and the expansion of the city to the North led to a new period of development. Stone was quarried from nearby Craigleith quarry to build the fashionable 'New town' The builders looked for a source of sand to add to the lime mortar and hit upon the Gallow Lee. The owner of the land charged the builders to cart away the sand, containing the ashes and other remains of thousands of victims. It is said that every penny he earned went straight to the local publicans – so much so that a public house (the halfway house) sprung up nearby!
Soon the sandy mound of the Gallow Lee was gone and all that remained was a hollow. As I write this the site of the Gallow Lee is once more waste ground, formerly occupied as a bus depot now awaiting redevelopment. But how many of those living in the trendy apartments in Edinburgh's New town realise that the very fabric of their building is bound together with the remains of Witches, covenanters and criminals?
The Cannibal Earl of Drumlanrig
By Rodger Moffet
While sitting on the steps outside Edinburgh's 'Dynamic Earth' visitor attraction the other day our family were admiring the view over to the Scottish Parliament building. My wife pointed to the older whitewashed building that nestles in the heart of the new parliament complex and asked me if that was part of the parliament too. The building in question was Queensberry House. Not knowing a great deal about it I called up the internet on my phone to find out more. Little did I realise that this innocent looking building would hold such dark secrets!
Queensberry House was built in 1667 for Dame Margaret Douglas of Balmakellie. It was bought a few years later by Charles Maitland, 'Lord Hatton' and then sold again in 1689 to William Douglas, the 1st Duke of Queensberry. The first Dukes daughter died in the house under horrific circumstances; her apron caught fire, causing her terrible facial injuries from which she died.
When William died in 1695 the estates passed to his eldest son James Douglas who became the 2nd Duke of Queensberry. James was either an incredible shrewd political operator or was incredibly naïve, As Lord High Commissioner for Scotland between 1700 and 1703 he sided with the Jacobites, leading to his resignation. But then in 1705 he pops back into political life, reinvented as Keeper of the Privy Seal. In 1707 he orchestrates the Act of Union and Scotland's days as an independent nation are ended.
But James had a dark secret and on the very night the act was signed a terrible and ghastly crime would shock the nation and shame the name of Douglas.
The Duke's eldest son James was referred to in many peerage records to have 'died young' there is very little mention of him at all and with good reason. James Douglas, Earl of Drumlanrig was completely insane! From childhood he was kept under lock and key in a ground floor room in Queensberry House, the room with windows boarded up and kept in permanent darkness. He was a large brutish boy of great strength and incredibly dangerous.
On the night the Treaty of Union was being signed the city was in uproar! Some were celebrating but many more were rioting! The Duke, perhaps he was celebrating the vast sum that was going to come his way for his involvement in the negotiation of the act or perhaps he was trying to escape the mob, either way he was well away from Queensberry house that night. Fatefully so were most of the staff and most importantly so was the valet charged with the responsibility of watching after the young Earl.
The Earl managed to break out of his room and began to wander the empty house in a lust of hunger and rage. He stalked around the huge mansion for some time until the smell of cooking drew him to one of the many kitchens. There he fell upon a young kitchen boy, quickly overpowering him he proceeded to take the poor child and attach him (by means we will not go into here) to a spit and roast the body over the fire!
It was some time before his escape was discovered and by the time he was tracked down to the kitchen the mad Earl had already devoured parts of the body of the servant boy.
Despite the Duke's best efforts the story leaked out, a nation already shocked at its betrayal but these so called Nobles was dumbstruck by such an act barbarism and the 'Cannibal Earl' was never seen in public again. He was spirited off to England and died there a few years later. The Duke had another problem though, James was the eldest son and as such was the rightful heir to the Dukedom, more swift political and constitutional engineering contrived that this passed to his second son, Charles on his death.
But the story didn't end there – was there a curse on the name of Douglas? Charles married Catherine Hyde who was also prone to acts of eccentricity bordering on insanity too. She had a vile temper and hated Scotland and the Scots, when in residence in Queensberry House she would deliberately dress like a peasant girl to ridicule her Scottish guests. Their son was also afflicted by the family madness and one day in 1754 while on a journey to London he rode in front of the coach carrying his mother, produced a pistol and shot himself dead.
The fortunes of the house fared little better: in 1801 the house was sold by the inheritors of the Queensberry title. Stripped of all its decoration it was given away for the meagre sum of £900 and turned into government barracks, by 1853 it had become a refuge for the destitute and the adjoining lodge was used for 'the reception and treatment of female inebriates'.
So was there a curse on the Queensberry's? Many say the terrible act's of the 'cannibal Earl' were a judgement for his betrayal of the Scottish People for his parcel of English gold. There is one older legend however that suggests a much older curse upon the family. On the day and hour of the death of the first Duke in 1695 a Scottish skipper who was at that time in Sicily swears to have witnessed the sight of a flaming coach and 6 horses driving up the side of Mount Etna and disappearing into its fiery caldera. As it passed he heard a diabolical voice cry out:
'Make way for the Duke of Drumlanrig!"
The Death of the Great Lafayette
By Amanda Moffet
A century ago, The Great Lafayette was the highest paid performer in the world. But in the middle of his show, on the 9 May 1911, a fire began in the theatre. Trapped on the stage, Lafayette died, as the theatre burned to the ground. This was the Edinburgh Empire Palace Theatre, on the very same site now occupied by the Edinburgh Festival Theatre.
The finale of this final performance was the 'Lion's Bride' which involved the use of tapestries, cushions, tents and curtains to create an Oriental setting. An African lion paced restlessly in a cage while fire-eaters, jugglers and contortionists performed. A young woman in Oriental dress walked slowly on stage and entered the cage. When she was inside, the lion roared and reared up ready to pounce. The animal skin was then suddenly ripped away to reveal The Great Lafayette who had mysteriously changed places with the lion.
As The Great Lafayette took his bow a lamp fell amongst the scenery which instantly caught fire, the audience (3,000 people) escaped as the band played the national anthem. The safety curtain on the stage came down, everyone on the stage and backstage were killed in the fire. Lafayette had actually managed to escape but returned to save his horse, Amazon. As well as the horse, a lion and ten performers including a child who performed illusions in a bear outfit lost their lives this terrible night 100 years ago.
The festival theatre is said to be haunted, people have head Lafayette's voice and also a lion's roar. A few days before Lafayettes death his beloved dog had also died and is said to also haunt the theatre; Beauty, Lafayette's dog was a gift from the great Harry Houdini. It is buried in Piershill Cemetery, where Lafayette would later join him. She was the object of The Great Lafayette's affection, and was famously spoiled by the man of mystery, treated to velvet cushions, diamond-studded collars, five-course meals and even his own room.
But it was this indulgence which was to put an end to Beauty's life when, during his stay in Edinburgh, he died of apoplexy, a condition caused by over-eating.
Distraught, The Great Lafayette negotiated a formal burial for his pet at Piershill Cemetery, agreed on the condition that he too would be buried there when the time came – which was sooner than he anticipated.
The body of Lafayette was soon found and sent to Glasgow for cremation, however two days after the fire, workers were clearing the under stage area and found another body identically dressed as Lafayette. It turned out that the body in the crematorium was that of the illusionist's body double. Two days later the ashes of the Great Lafayette were taken through Edinburgh witnessed by a crowd estimated to number over 250,000 before being laid to rest in the paws of his beloved (and stuffed) Beauty at Piershill Cemetery.
Evil Laird Pringle and the Haunting of Buckholm Tower
By Amanda Moffet
One evening in the 1680s, as the light was starting to fade and the colour of day drained away turning everything to grey an ominous dark character was seen striding over Ladhope Moor with two large dogs. He was seeking covenanters who he was sure were holding an assembly meeting somewhere nearby. His shiny black eyes searched for tracks as he listened for signs as to where they were hiding. He knew they were there somewhere it was just a matter of time before he found them.
He was the renowned Laird Pringle of Buckholm Tower, an ardent Royalist, hater and torturer of covenanters.
His hunch as usual was correct and he found evidence that this was indeed the spot which the covenanters had used. But it was deserted. They had recently, and in some rush, fled the scene; obviously they had be warned that he was closing in on them. Nearby Pringle spots the body of a man lying hurt on the ground , he recognises him straight away, it's George Elliot, the well-known covenanter. He had been injured after being thrown from his horse. With him is his son William, who had stayed to look after him. Their faces full of fear watching helplessly as Pringle and his growling dogs approach.
Pringle was ordered not to kill the men on the spot but to take then captive overnight so they could be interrogated the next day. Pringle was furious with this decision. The pair were locked in the cellar of Buckholm. Later that night Pringle was roaring drunk and seething with anger at being made to do this. He wanted their blood, the kill should be his. His rage grew till he decided to take matters into his own hands and stormed the cellars. Pitch dark down the cellar - servants gathered upstairs peering into it to see what all the noise was hearing scuffling, then screaming, then nothing …. silence.
Meanwhile the wife and mother of the prisoners - Isobel Elliot had arrived at Buckholm demanding to see the men and make sure they were being treated fairly. She knew of Laird Pringle's blood lust and feared for their safety.
The Laird still covered in the blood of Geordie and William sees her approaching. He desperately wants her to witness the aftermath of his savagery, see what he's done. He jumps out and drags her down the cellar. In a small pool of light the lifeless bodies of her husband and son hang from meat hooks. Their flesh torn and their bodies beaten to a bloody pulp.
Isobel was distraught, furiously she cursed Pringle for killing her family, and from that night until the day he died one June, Pringle was adamant that he was being chased by hounds that were invisible to other people.
During the nights before the first anniversary of his death, the laird's ghost was seen running towards the tower, with the baying cries of the hounds reverberating behind him. And on the night that he died and every June thereafter, cries and running footsteps were reported to be heard, not outside the tower, but from the depths of the cellar. Had his terrible deeds finally caught up with him?
In nearby Melrose Abbey graveyard stands a stone bearing the name George Pringle, aged 78 years.
The date of death on the headstone reads 5 March 1693, making it possible that this is the laird in question's grave.