Chapter L: Of Session (3)

In Mr and Mrs Macrae’s circle of visiting acquaintance, and frequent spectators of the Marionville theatricals, were Sir George Ramsay of Bamff 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 Perthshire, 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 7th April 1790, the former 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 footman, 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 gentleman beating a servant, cried shame, and showed a disposition to take part with the latter; but there were individuals present who had observed all the circumstances, and who felt differently. One gentleman afterwards gave evidence 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 throughout 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 Ramsay, whom he found sitting for her portrait in the lodgings of the young artist Raeburn, afterwards so highly distinguished. It has been said that he fell on his knees before the lady to entreat 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, Mr 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 commenced by the issue of a summons, which Mr Macrae received on the 12th. Wounded to the quick by this procedure, 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 drop the prosecution or that his master should turn him off. Sir George 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 remained 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 attended 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 occupied 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 impossible; Sir George must, in the first place, turn off his servant, 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, shed tears of anguish. 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 believed, 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 distress. Mr Macrae went up to Sir George and ‘told him that he was sincerely afflicted at seeing him in that situation.’[269] It was with difficulty, and only at the urgent request 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 Macrae’s conduct. It was given out that during a considerable 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 journey 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 character 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 circumstances 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 his trial, but he was advised not to appear, and accordingly sentence of outlawry was passed against him. The servant’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 challenge. 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 coffee-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.

FOOTNOTES

[269] Letter of Captain Amory, MS.

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, 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 inscription:

‘If Fortune smile, be not puffed up,
And if it frown, be not dismayed;
For Providence governeth all,
Although the world’s turned upside down.’

Alison Square[270] 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.

PAGE 358.]

In Alison Square Thomas Campbell lived while composing his _Pleasures of Hope_. The place where any deathless 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 from the east side, on the north side of the arch, the windows looking partly into Nicolson Square and partly to the Potterrow. 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 extremely irritable that her family had no rest till she retired for the night. It was only at that season that the young poet could command repose of mind for his task.

FOOTNOTES

[270] The north and south sides only of this square now remain. The west was removed to make a thoroughfare—Marshall Street, connecting Nicolson Square and Potterrow.

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 Scottish troops in a line, the right wing of which rested upon the Calton Hill, and the left upon Leith, being designed for the defence of these towns. A battery was erected 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, whence some of his despatches are dated. When the war was shifted to another quarter, this mound became a footway between the two towns. It is thus described in a book published in 1748: ‘A very handsome gravel walk, twenty feet broad, 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 contemplated 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 solely 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 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 Edinburgh, and a toll erected for its payment.

One terrible peculiarity attended Leith Walk in its former condition. It was overhung by a gibbet, 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 was a slight rising ground immediately above the site of the toll[271] 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, voluminous 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 sum 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 any 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 certainly 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 were comparatively transient spectacles, there were several shows upon Leith Walk, which might be considered as regular fixtures and part of the _country-cousin sights_ of Edinburgh. Who can forget the waxworks 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 Paradise, sat the wax figure of a little man in the dress of a French courtier of the _ancien régime_, 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 Rialto of _objects_. This word requires explanation. It is applied by the people of Scotland to persons who have been born with or overtaken by some miserable personal evil. From one end to the other, Leith Walk was garrisoned by poor creatures under these circumstances, who, from handbarrows, wheelbarrows, or iron legs, if peradventure they possessed such adjuncts, entreated the passengers 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. It is now a plain street, composed of little shops of the usual suburban appearance, 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 fictitious 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 _academy_; if an artisan’s workshop, however humble, it is a _manufactory_. Everything about it is still showy and unsubstantial; it is still, in some measure, the type of what it formerly was.

Near the bottom of Leith Walk is a row of somewhat old-fashioned houses bearing the name of Springfield. A large one, the second from the top, was, ninety years ago, the residence of Mr M’Culloch of Ardwell, 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 ambo et respondere parati_. But the history of their intimacy is worthy of being particularly told; so I transcribe it from the recollection of a gentleman whose advanced age and family connections 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 of 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, familiarly 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 snowstorm, that they reached Moffat, where they tarried for the night.

‘Early on a January morning, the snow having fallen heavily during the preceding night, they set off 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 Erickstane, but farther they could not go. The parties came out of their carriages, and, aided by their postillions, 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, wrapped in a blanket, until the business was accomplished. The parties then went back to Moffat, arriving there between nine and ten in the morning. Mr M’Culloch and his friend then learned that, of the two strangers 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 off. 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 exclaimed: “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 hill, 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 are 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 instantly stopped by saying: “My dear sir, an apology is not necessary; I am fair game for every 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. The two parties now joined at the breakfast-table, as they did at every other meal for the next twenty days.

Old houses being demolished to make room for extension of Heriot Watt College.

PAGE 364.]

‘Foote remained quiet for a few hours after breakfast, until he had beat about for game, as he termed it, and he first fixed on worthy Mrs Little, his hostess. By some occult means he had managed to get hold of some of the old lady’s habiliments, particularly a favourite night-cap—provincially, a _mutch_. After attiring himself _à la_ Mrs Little, he went into the kitchen and through the house, mimicking the garrulous landlady so very exactly in giving orders, scolding, &c. that no servant doubted as to its being the mistress _in propriâ personâ_. This kind of amusement went on for several days for the benefit of the people in Moffat. 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 Ardwell 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 connection, he became a familiar visitor at Abbotsford, and a favourite acquaintance of Sir Walter Scott.[272] Mr Lockhart tells us that, next to Tom Moore, Sir Walter thought him the finest warbler he had ever heard. He was certainly an exquisitely fine singer of Scotch songs. Sir Walter Scott never heard him sing until he was far advanced in life, or until his voice had given way to a long residence in India. Mr Lockhart also tells us that David M’Culloch in his youth was an intimate and favourite companion of Burns, and that the poet hardly ventured to publish 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 sung by David M’Culloch.’

FOOTNOTES

[271] The site was midway between Edinburgh and Leith, now represented by Shrub Place.

[272] Sir Walter’s brother Thomas was married to a sister of Mr M’Culloch.

[GABRIEL’S ROAD.

Previous to 1767 the eye of a person perched in a favourable situation in the Old Town surveyed the whole ground on which the New Town was afterwards built. Immediately beyond the North Loch was a range of grass fields called Bearford’s Parks, from the name of the proprietor, Hepburn of Bearford in East Lothian. Bounding these on the north, in the line of the subsequent Princes Street, was a road enclosed by two dry-stone walls, thence called the Lang Dykes; it was the line by which the Viscount Dundee rode with his small troop of adherents when he had ascertained that the Convention was determined to settle the crown upon the Prince of Orange, and he saw that the only duty that remained for him was to raise the Highland clans for King James.[273] The main mass of ground, originally rough with whins and broom, but latterly forming what was called Wood’s Farm, was crossed obliquely by a road extending between Silvermills, a rural hamlet on the mill-course of the Leith, and the passage into the Old Town obtained by the dam of the North Loch at the bottom of Halkerston’s Wynd. There are still some traces of this road. You see it leave Silvermills behind West Cumberland Street. Behind Duke Street, on the west side, the boundary-wall of the Queen Street Garden is oblique in consequence of its having passed that way. Finally it terminates in a short, oblique passage behind the Register House, wherein stood till lately a tall building containing a famous house of resort, Ambrose’s Tavern. This short passage bore the name of Gabriel’s Road, and it was supposed to do so in connection with a remarkable murder, of which it was the scene.

The murderer in the case was in truth a man named Robert Irvine. He was tutor to two boys, sons of Mr Gordon of Ellon. In consequence of the children having reported some liberties they saw him take with their mother’s maid, he conceived the horrible design of murdering them, and did so one day as he was leading them for a walk along the rough ground where the New Town is now situated. The frightful transaction was beheld from the Castle-hill; he was pursued, taken, and next day but one hanged by the baron of Broughton, after having his hands hacked off by the knife with which he had committed the deed. The date of this off-hand execution was 30th April 1717. Both the date and the murderer’s name have several times been misstated.[274]

Adjacent to this road, about the spot now occupied by the Royal Bank, stood a small group of houses called Mutrie’s Hill, some of which professed to furnish curds and cream and fruits in their seasons, and were on these accounts resorted to by citizens and their families on summer evenings. One in particular bore the name of ‘Peace and Plenty.’

The village of Silvermills, for the sake of which, as an access to the city, Gabriel’s Road existed, still maintains its place amidst the streets and crescents of the New Town. It contains a few houses of a superior cast; but it is a place sadly in want of the _sacer vates_. No notice has ever been taken of it in any of the books regarding Edinburgh, nor has any attempt ever been made to account for its somewhat piquant name. I shall endeavour to do so.

In 1607 silver was found in considerable abundance at Hilderstone, in Linlithgowshire, on the property of the gentleman who figures in another part of this volume as Tam o’ the Cowgate. Thirty-eight barrels of ore were sent to the Mint in the Tower of London to be tried, and were found to give about twenty-four ounces of silver for every hundredweight. Expert persons were placed upon the mine, and mills were erected on the Water of Leith for the melting and fining of the ore. The sagacious owner gave the mine the name of _God’s Blessing_. By-and-by the king heard of it, and thinking it improper that any such fountain of wealth should belong to a private person, purchased God’s Blessing for £5000, that it might be worked upon a larger scale for the benefit of the public. But somehow, from the time it left the hands of the original owner, God’s Blessing ceased to be anything like so fertile as it had been, and in time the king withdrew from the enterprise a great loser. The Silvermills I conceive to have been a part of the abandoned plant.[275]]

FOOTNOTES

[273] It was also along this road that the anxious citizens, watching on the Castle esplanade, saw the royalist cavalry retiring at full gallop from Coltbridge on the approach of Prince Charlie and his Highland army.

[274] In Mr Lockhart’s clever book, _Peter’s Letters to his Kinsfolk_, the murderer is called Gabriel. A work called _Celebrated Trials_ (6 vols. 1825) gives an erroneous account of the murder, styling the murderer as the Rev. Thomas Hunter.

[275] See _Domestic Annals of Scotland_, i. 407.

INDEX.

Abbey Chapel, 206.

Abbey Hill, 10, 316.

Abbey Zett (Yett, Gate), 257.

Abbotsford, 25, 83.

Aberuchil, Lord, 72.

Acheson House, 313.

Acheson, Sir Archibald, of Abercairny, 314.

Actors, Canongate Theatre, 346.

Adam Street, 187.

_Advertiser, Edinburgh_, 5, 49.

Advocates’ Library, 113.

Ainslie, Sir Philip, 300.

Airth, Laird of, 38.

Aitchinsoune, Thomas (Cunyie House), 260.

Aldridge, Robert, dancing-master, 151, 153.

Alesse, Alexander, 240.

Alison Square, 358, 359.

Aloetic medicine, an, 27.

Alston, Tony, 346.

Alva, Lord Justice-clerk, 204-208.

Ambrose’s Tavern, 366.

Amory, Captain, 355.

Anchor Close, 162.

Anderson, Samuel, anecdote of, 305.

Anderson’s pills, 27.

Angus, Earl of, 241.

Antemanum Club, 149.

Arbuthnot, Lord, 307.

Ardwell, residence of M’Culloch of, 362.

Argyll, 15, 51, 156, 175, 234, 307, 308, 345.

Arnot, Hugo, 4, 12, 36, 46, 49, 171.

Arran, Earl of, 241.

Arrot, Dr, 10.

Assemblies, 3, 14, 44, 265.

Assembly Close, 59.

Assembly Rooms, 43, 46, 195, 233, 253, 265.

_Assembly, The_, a play by Dr Pitcairn, 310.

Auchans House, Dr Johnson at, 197.

Auld Reekie, 138, 152.

_Auld Robin Gray_, author of, 277.

Aytoun of Inchdairnie, 123, 270.

Back Stairs, the, 291.

Baijen-hole, 112.

Baillie, Alexander, of Dochfour, 235.

Baird, Mr, of Newbyth, 20.

Baird’s Close, Castlehill, 58.

Baird, Sir David, 20.

Balcarres, Countess of, 277.

Balfour, James, accountant (‘Singing Jamie’), 141-143.

Balfour, Sir James (Lord Lyon), 315, 316.

Ballantyne, printer, 143.

Bank Close, Old, 70, 94.

Bank of Scotland, 70.

Bankton House, oratory at, 29.

Bannatyne Club, 73.

Bannatyne, Sir William Macleod, 10, 129, 317.

Banquet at Mint House to Danish lords, 260.

Barnard, Mr, violinist, 253.

Bassentyne’s house, 257.

Bearford’s Parks, 366.

Beatoun, Archbishop, 117.

Begbie’s murder, 36, 280.

Beith’s or Bess Wynd, 93, 113.

Bellamy, Mrs, 347-350.

Bell, Benjamin, surgeon, 355.

Bell’s Wynd, 46.

Bethune, Archbishop, 228, 241.

Bethune, Cardinal, 228.

Bickers (street fights of boys), 189, 245.

Birrel, the chronicler, 38.

Bishop’s Land, 269.

Black, Alexander, of Balbirney, 211.

Blackbird, a Jacobite, 30.

Blackfriars’ Monastery, 242.

Blackfriars Wynd, 10, 38, 223, 228, 234, 237, 238, 241, 257.

Black, Joseph, Professor, 242, 289.

Black Wigs Club, 155.

Blair, Dr, 56, 136, 288, 334.

Blair, Hugh, merchant, 72.

Blair, Rev. Robert, 307.

Blair’s Close, 18.

Blue Blanket, 183.

Blue-gowns—their annual assembly, 102.

Bluidy Mackenzie, 224.

Blyth’s Close, 22.

Boar Club, 151, 153.

Boarding-schools of last century, 230.

Bonnet Lairds’ Club, 155.

Bonnington, 348.

Booths, 3, 110.

Boroughmoor, 271.

Boswell, James, 16, 55, 60, 172, 197.

Boswell, James, advocate, 125.

Boswell, Sir Alexander, 126, _n._, 146, 266.

Bothwell, Adam, Bishop of Orkney, Commendator of Holyrood, 71, 97.

Bothwell, Anne, her _Lines_, 97.

Bothwell Bridge, 289.

Bothwell, Earl of, 38, 83, 121, 256.

Bow, angle of, 46.

‘Bowed Joseph,’ a general of mobs, 184-188.

Bowfoot, 50.

Bowhead, 27, 41.

Bowhead Saints, 30.

Bowling-greens, 247.

Bow, the West, 26, 53, 133.

Boyd, James, White Horse Inn, 172.

Boyd, Lord, 121.

Breadalbane, Earl of, 180.

Bridge, North, 269, 283, 360.

Bridges, the, 53.

British Linen Company’s Bank, 280.

Brodie, Deacon, 76, 91.

Brodie’s Close, 76.

Broomfield, Andrew, 124.

Brougham, Lord, 80.

Broughton, 360.

Broughton, Baron of, 367.

Brownhill, James, joiner, 55.

Brown, James, builder, 5.

Brown, Mrs, of Coalstoun, 266.

Brownonian System Club, 156.

Brown’s Close, 18.

Brown Square, 5, 248.

Bruce, Dame Magdalen, of Kinross, 19 _n._

Bruce of Kennet, 3.

Bruce of Kinnaird, 210.

Bruntsfield Links, 5.

Bryce, his small shop, 101.

Buccleuch, Duchess of, 327.

Buccleuch, Duke of, 328.

Buchanan, George, 288 _n._

Buchan, Earl of, 98.

Burke, Edward (Ned—a chairman engaged in the escape of Prince Charles), 177.

Burleigh, Lord, 307.

Burnett, Miss, of Monboddo, 251.

Burning, strange tale of a, 298.

Burns, Robert, 7, 14, 106, 164, 251, 351, 358, 362, 365.

Burton, Mrs, 58, 60.

Burt’s Letters, 176.

Busks, enormous size of, 201.

Bute, Lord, 10, 316, 317.

Byres of Coates, 95.

Byres’s Close, 96.

Caddies (street messengers), 175.

Cairnie, Lady, 124.

Caithness, Earls of, 77.

Caledonian Club, 155.

_Caledonian Mercury_, 15.

Calton, 149.

Calton Hill, 83, 297, 360.

Cambuskenneth, Abbot of, 223.

Campbell, Alexander, 180, 345.

Campbell, Lady Eleanor, 64.

Campbell, Mrs, of Monzie, 205, 208.

Campbell, Mungo, 90.

Campbell of Laguine, 134.

Campbell, Sir James, of Aberuchil, 72.

Campbell, Thomas, poet, 167, 359.

Canal, Forth and Clyde, 5.

Canongate, 3, 8, 11, 65, 295-301.

Canongate Council House, 71.

Canongate Theatre, 346.

Canongate Tolbooth, 248.

Canonmills, 154.

Cant’s Close, 221.

Cape Club, 149.

Cardross, Lord, 98.

Carrubber’s Close, 15.

Carters of Gilmerton, the, 4.

Castle-hill, 11, 18, 20, 22, 39, 150.

Castle Street, 8.

Cathcart, Robert, 39.

Cat Nick on Salisbury Crags, 91.

Cats, a lover of, 16.

Cayley, Squire, or Captain, 291.

Chairmen, 176.

Chalmers, Miss (Mrs Pringle), 251.

Chalmers, Miss, of Pittencrief, 251.

Chalmers’s Entry, 168.

Changes of the last hundred years, 1.

Chapman, Walter, printer, 109.

Charles I., 64, 170, 301, 306, 321.

Charles II., 260, 327.

Charles X., 228.

Charles, Prince, 27, 28, 48, 72, 175, 177, 181, 219, 235, 236, 269.

Charlotte Square, 9.

Charteris, Colonel, 328.

Chessels’s Court, 27, 91.

Chiesly of Dairy, 75, 211.

Circulating Library, 15, 104.

Citadel of Leith, inhabitants in 1745, 19.

City Guard, 4, 31, 84, 148, 179, 233, 238, 348.

Clarinda, 358.

Clarke, Stephen, musician, 253.

Clattering of tinsmiths in West Bow, 42.

Claudero, pamphleteer, 330.

Claverhouse, 6.

Cleanse the Causeway, 117, 241, 242.

Cleghorn, Miss, 251.

Clerihugh’s Tavern, 162.

Clerks, drucken, of Sir William Forbes, 138.

Clerk, Sir John, of Penicuik, 193.

Clubs, convivial, 149-157.

Coalstoun, Lord, and his wig, 96.

Coates, Sir John Byres of, 95.

Cockburn, Mrs, author of _Flowers of the Forest_, 58.

Cock-fights, 236.

Coffee-house, John’s, 112.

Coffee-house, Netherbow, 332.

Coffin, the, 166.

Coinage, 260.

Coke, William, bookseller, 167.

College of King James, 259.

College Street, North, 242.

College, the, 3.

College Wynd, 3, 242.

Colquhoun, Sir James, 132.

Commendator Bothwell’s house, 97.

Commercial Bank, 265.

Concerts, 249, 251.

Constable, Archibald, 7.

Convivial clubs, 149-157.

Convivialia, 138-157.

Corelli, musician, 254.

Corri, Signor and Signora Domenico, 250, 253.

_Court of Session Garland_, a burlesque poem, 124, 125.

Court, the Dirt, 115.

Covington, Lockhart of, 129.

Covington, Lord, fate of his gown, 130.

Cowgate, 72, 223, 240, 244, 257.

Cowgate Port, 152.

Craigie, Lord President, 9.

Craig, James, 7.

Crawford, Earl of, 311.

Crawfuird, 39.

Creech, Provost, bookseller, 9, 103, 339.

Crighton Street, Potterrow, 59.

_Criminal Trials_, by Hugo Arnot, 13.

Crochallan, a convivial society, 164.

Cromarty, Earl of, 225.

Cromwell, Oliver, 99, 122, 193, 307, 360.

Crosbie, advocate, 153.

Cross, the, 4, 174, 175;
taken down, 178 _n._

Cullen, Dr, 261.

Cullen, Lord, 263.

Cullen, Robert, mimic, 261.

Culloden, 177.

Cumming of Lyon Office, 167.

Cunliffe, Sir Foster, of Acton, 252.

Cunningham, Rev. Mr, 352.

Cunyie House (Mint), 257, 260.

Dalrymple, Miss, New Hailes, 131.

Dalrymple, President, 123.

Dalrymple, Sir David (Lord Hailes), 126 _n._, 131, 300.

Dancing in Edinburgh, 44;
Allan Ramsay on, 44;
Goldsmith on, 45.

Danish lords entertained, 260.

Darien Expedition, the, 52.

Darnley, 71, 83, 107, 121, 256.

David I., 295.

Davidson’s Close, 170.

Defensive Band, 152.

Defoe, 337.

‘Deid-chack,’ the, 114.

De la Cour, artist, 9.

De Witt’s map, 259.

Dhu, Sergeant John, 180.

Dick, Lady Anne, of Corstorphine, her eccentricities and verses, 225.

Dick, Sir William, &c., 78, 100.

Dicks of Prestonfield, 78.

Dickson, Andrew, golf-club maker, 321.

Dickson, Rev. David, 307.

Dickson’s Close, 222.

Dirt Court, the, 115.

Dirty Club, 155.

_Diurnal_, the, of a Scottish judge, 139.

Doctors of Faculty Club, the, 155.

Doctor, the Tinklarian, 41.

Donacha Bhan, a Highland poet, 180.

Donaldson, Alexander, bookseller, 48.

Donaldson, James, bookseller, 49.

Douglas, Archibald, 238.

Douglas, Duke of, 9, 69.

Douglas, Gavin, poet, 240.

Douglas, Jeanie, Adam Smith’s cousin, 319.

Douglas, Lady Anne, ghost of, 343.

Douglas, Lady Jane, 69, 238.

Douglas’s Tavern, 162.

_Douglas_, tragedy of, 347.

Doune, Lord, 307.

Dowie, Johnnie, 138, 166.

Dowie’s Tavern, 138, 166.

Drem, Barony of, 50.

Dresses, ladies’, of last century, 199.

Drinking customs, 138, 143.

Drumlanrig, 336, 339, 340, 343.

Drummond, Bishop Abernethy, 229.

Drummond, Pious Club poet, 150.

Drummond, Provost, 5, 6, 360.

Drummore, Lord, 9, 125.

Drumsheugh, 205.

Dryden, 327, 344.

Duff, Miss (Countess of Dumfries and Stair), 230.

Dunbar’s Close, 100.

Dunbar, Willie, 164.

Dundas, Robert, of Arniston, Lord President, 127, 132, 140.

Dundee, Lord, 30, 366.

Dundonald, Earl of, 69.

Dunglass Castle, 99.

Dunkeld, Bishop of, 223, 240.

Dun, Lady, 124.

Durie, Abbot of Dunfermline, 273.

Easter Road, 328, 360.

Edward or Udward, Nicol, Provost, 210.

Eglintoune, Countess of, 192-198.

Eglintoune, Earl of, 90, 162, 192.

Eglintoune, Miss (Lady Wallace), 276.

Elcho, Lord, 307.

Elibank, Lord, 14.

Elliot, Jeanie, of Minto, 6.

Elliot, Lady, of Minto, 266.

Elliot, Sir Gilbert, of Minto, 206.

Elphingston, Lady Betty, 124.

Elphinstone, James, 49.

Errol, Earl of (Constable), 103.

Erskine, Alexander, the Hon., 98.

Erskine, Harry, epigram by, on Hugo Arnot, 12.

Erskine, James, of Cambo, 98.

Erskine, James, of Grange, 211.

Euphame, Mrs (Effie Sinclair), 230.

Excise Office, 91, 244, 247, 248.

Executioners of Edinburgh, 51.

Faculty of Doctors’ Club, 155.

Falconer, William, author of _The Shipwreck_, 285.

Female dresses of last century, 199-203.

Ferguson, Dr, 56.

Fergusson, Governor, his house in the Luckenbooths, 10.

Fergusson, Robert, 26, 114 _n._, 148, 149, 162, 180, 233, 271, 349.

Fergusson, Robert, the Plotter, took refuge in Old Tolbooth, 88.

Fergusson, Walter, writer, digs for water in James’s Square, 335.

Fife’s Close, Bailie, 265.

Findlater, Earl of, 231.

Fishmarket Close, 140.

Fives, the game of, 344.

Flockhart’s, Lucky, Tavern in Potterrow, 168.

_Flowers of the Forest_, the author of, 58.

Foliot, John and Bartoulme, 209.

Foote, Samuel, anecdotes of, 363-365.

Forbes, Lord President, 123, 125, 235.

Forbes, Rev. Robert, Bishop of Orkney, 19 _n._

Forbes, Sir William, 115, 138, 199, 251.

Fore-stairs, 100, 271.

Forrest, David, 273.

Forrester, Sir Andrew, 293.

Forrester’s Wynd, 3.

Forster of Corsebonny, 214.

Forth and Clyde Canal, 5.

Fortune’s Tavern, 143, 161, 192, 251.

Foulis, William, of Woodhall, 124.

Fountainhall, Lord, anecdote of, 61.

Fyvie, Lord, 120.

Gabriel’s Road, 366.

Galloway, Earl of, 244.

Gallow Lee, the, 75, 185, 361.

Gallows Stone in Grassmarket, 51.

Gardenstone, Lord, 132.

Gardiner, Colonel, his oratory, 29.

Gask family, 10.

Gay, John, poet, 4, 338, 339.

Geddes, Jenny, and her stool, 105, 106.

Ged, Dougal, of Town-guard, 233.

Ged, Misses, their boarding-school, 232.

General’s Entry, the residence of Burns’s ‘Clarinda,’ 358.

George II., 279.

George III., 16, 197, 275.

George IV., 269.

George IV. Bridge, 70, 167, 244.

George Square, 5, 8, 169, 243.

George Street, 46, 53.

Gibson of Durie, 121, 124.

Gilmerton, carters of, 4.

Gilmour, Lord President, 122.

Gilmour, Mr Little, of the Inch, 76.

Gilson, Mr, singer, 253.

Giornovicki, violinist, 254.

Glencairn, 25, 352.

Glenlee, Lord, 5.

Glenorchy, Lady, 226, 205, 206.

Goldsmith, 242, 265.

Goldsmith, account of a dancing assembly in Edinburgh, 45.

Goldsmiths in Parliament Square, 111.

Golfers’ Land, 320.

Golf, the game of, 52;
Charles I. plays on Leith Links, 321.

Goolister, Henry, Captain, 260.

Gordon, Captain, 181.

Gordon, Duchess of, 145, 252, 275, 276, 313, 316, 361.

Gordon family, 18, 316.

Gordon, Mr, of Ellon, 366.

Gourlay, Robert, house of, 70, 71.

Grace, Countess, of Aboyne and Murray, 66.

Grange, Lady, story of, 211-221.

Grange, Lord, 15, 211.

Grassmarket, 18, 26, 50, 51, 171, 260.

Gray, Sir William, of Pittendrum, 64, 76.

Green Breeks, a noted fighter, 190.

Gregory, Dr John, 172.

Greping-office Tavern, 159.

Greville, Lord, 262.

Greyfriars, 93, 95, 109, 224, 288.

Guard, City or Town, 84, 148, 179, 233, 238, 348.

Guard-house, 84, 140, 180.

Guise, Mary of, 22.

Guthrie, Bishop Henry, 307.

Guthrie, Rev. James, 307.

Haddington, Earl of, 99, 244.

Hailes, Lord (Sir D. Dalrymple), 126, 131, 300.

Haining, Lord, 125.

Halkerston’s Wynd, 5, 117, 366.

Halket, Miss, of Pitferran, 252.

Halyburton, James, 222.

Hamilton, ‘Dear Sandie,’ 247.

Hamilton, Duke of, 172, 308.

Hamilton, Marie, 295.

Hamiltons of Pencaitland, 270.

Hamilton’s Tavern, Mrs, 345.

Hamiltons, the, 241.

Hamilton, Thomas (Tam o’ the Cowgate),
Lord President, first Earl of Haddington, 244.

Hammermen of Canongate, 313.

Hangman’s Craig, 52.

Hangmen of Edinburgh, 51.

Ha’s, Jenny, Ale-house, 142, 339.

Harcarse, Lord, 123.

Haunted houses, 35.

Hawley, General, 181.

Hay, advocate, Lord Newton, 139.

Hay, a young criminal, singular escape, 92.

Hay, Miss, of Hayston, 251.

Heart of Midlothian, 82.

Heckler, the, a lunatic litigant, 135.

Hell-fire Club, 153.

Henderland, Lord, 118.

Henderson, Alexander, tombstone of, 288.

Hepburn of Bearford, 366.

Herd, David, 167, 168.

Heriot, George, 50, 113-116;
stock with which he commenced business, 112 _n._;
a costly fire, 113.

Heriot’s Hospital, 93, 247, 310.

‘He that tholes overcomes,’ 47.

High Constables, 346.

High School, 76, 242, 245.

High School Wynd, 257.

High Street, 8, 11, 29.

Hilderstone, 367.

_History of Edinburgh_, by Hugo Arnot, 12.

_History of England_, by Hume, 56.

Hogg’s, Daniel, Tavern, 151, 153.

Holderness, Lord, 323.

Holstein, Duke of, entertained, 78.

Holyrood, 11, 28, 206, 209, 228, 248, 256, 260, 295, 321, 344.

Holyrood, Chapel of, 109.

Holyroodhouse, Lord, 97.

Home, Countess of, 306.

Home-Drummond of Blairdrummond, 252.

Home, Earl of, 307.

Home, Miss Betsy, 251.

Hoop, the, as worn by ladies, 200.

Hope of Rankeillor, 216, 218.

Hope’s Close, 70.

Hope, Sir Thomas, K.C., 70, 72, 73, 74.

Hope, Sir Thomas, of Kerse, 72.

Hopetoun, Earl of, 204, 342.

‘Horn Order,’ the, 157.

Horse Wynd, 59, 239, 244.

Howard, Lady Elizabeth, 316.

Hume, David, 55-59, 162.

Hume, Misses, of Linthill, 231.

Humphrey, Duke, 107.

Hunter, John, Professor, 133.

Huntly, Marquis of, 19, 175, 210.

Hyndford’s Close, 264, 275.

Inchdairnie, Aytouns of, 270.

Inch, the, 76.

Industrious Company Club, 154.

Infirmary Street, 241.

Innes, Gilbert, of Stow, 289.

Innes, Mrs Gilbert, of Stow, 61.

Inn, White Hart, 2.

Inn, White Horse, 2.

Irvine, Robert, 366.

Irving, General, 27.

Irving, Mrs, her recollections of the ’45, 27, 28.

Jack’s Land, 56.

Jacobite blackbird, a, 30.

Jail, 3, 83.

James I., 83, 307.

James II., 321, 327.

James III., 183.

James IV., 272.

James V., 229.

James VI., 38, 77, 175, 183, 210, 244, 260, 344.

James’s Court, 55-62, 172.

James’s Square, 335.

Jameson, George, painter, 288.

Jardine, Miss, 252.

Jeddart staff possessed by each citizen, 100.

Jeffrey, Francis, 265.

‘Jock o’ Sklates’ (Earl of Mar), 246.

John’s Coffee-house, 148.

Johnson, Dr Samuel, 16, 49, 60, 172, 197.

Johnston, James, of Westerhall, 37.

Johnston, Miss Lucy, 252.

Justice in bygone times, 120.

Kames, Lord, 130;
scene at the death of, 130;
his house, 300.

Kay’s portraits, 181.

Keith, Bishop, 170.

Keith, Mrs, 230.

Keith, Sir Alexander, of Ravelston, 242.

Keith, Sir Robert, ambassador, 230.

Kelly, Earl of, 255.

Kennedy, Sir Archibald, 194.

Kennedy, Susanna, 192.

Kerr & Dempster, goldsmiths, 111.

Kerr, goldsmith, Parliament Square, 3.

Ketten’s, Michael, shoe-shop, 83.

Kincaid, Mr (a great dandy), king’s printer, 277.

King’s Bridge, 18.

King’s Park, 91.

King’s Stables, 260.

Kinloch, Miss, of Gilmerton, 252.

Kinloch, Sir Francis and Mrs, 124.

Kinnaird, Miss, having second sight, 210.

Kirkcudbright, Lord, 265.

Kirk o’ Field, situation of, 256, 259.

Knockers, 207.

Knowles, Admiral, 304.

Knox, John, 25, 84, 105, 107, 109, 271, 279.

Krames, 102, 119.

Ladies and the drinking customs, 143, 147.

Ladies of Traquair, 286.

Lady’s Steps, the, payments made at, 103.

Laigh shops, 145.

Lally-Tollendal, Count, 252.

Lament, a, by Anne Bothwell, 97.

Lang Gait, or Lang Dykes, 6, 366.

Lauderdale, Duchess of, 307.

Lauderdale, Duke of, 122.

Lauder, Sir Andrew, 61.

Lauder, Sir Thomas Dick, 61.

Lauder, Thomas, Canon of Aberdeen, 240.

Lawnmarket, 11, 26, 27, 39, 70, 223.

Lawnmarket Club, 156.

Leith Links, 320.

Leith Street, 283.

Leith Walk, 281, 283, 360.

Leith Wynd, 149, 258, 281, 284.

Lennox, Earl of, 107.

Leslie, General, 39, 193, 360.

Leslie, Lady Mary, 328.

Leven, Lord, 124, 311.

Liberton’s Wynd, 166.

Lind, Mr, of the ‘Pious Club,’ 150.

Lindsay, Sir Alexander, of Evelick, 17.

Linlithgow road, 214.

List of Notables who lived in Canongate, 296.

Little, William, of Liberton, 76.

Lockhart of Carnwath, 209.

Lockhart of Covington, 129.

Lockhart, President, murder of, 75.

Lockhart’s Court, 209.

Lodge, Canongate Kilwinning, 305.

Logan, Rev. George, 27.

Long Way, the, 214.

Lord’s Day, walking on the, condemned, 11.

Lorimer, the, a deceased trade, 233.

Lorne, Lord, 308.

Lothian, Earl of, 307, 323.

Lothian Hut, 323.

Lothian, Marchioness, 323.

Loudon, Earl of, 64.

Loudoun, Chancellor, 307.

Loughborough, Chancellor, his house in the Mint Close, 263.

_Lounger_, the, 6.

Lovat, Lady, 234-239, 286.

Lovat, Lord, 205, 213, 214, 234, 235.

Luckenbooths, 10, 95-104, 272, 339.

Lucky Fykie’s Tavern, 168.

Lucky Middleman’s Tavern, 145, 146 _n._

Lyon Close, Old, 323.

Macalpine’s, Saunders, sedan-chair, 4.

M’Crie, Dr, 273.

M’Culloch, David (Wee Davie), 363.

M’Culloch of Ardwell, residence of, 362.

Macdonald, Sir Alexander, of Sleat, 216.

Macdowalls of Logan, 60.

Macduff of Ballenloan and his two law pleas, 136.

Macfarlane, John and Mrs, 291.

Macfarlane, William, judge, 60.

Macgill of Rankeillour, 244.

Macintyre, Duncan (Donacha Bhan), poet, 180.

Mackenzie, Henry, attorney, 154.

Mackenzie, Henry (_Man of Feeling_), 6, 288.

Mackenzie, Hon. Stuart, 316.

Mackenzie, Sir George, 93, 103, 223, 224, 225, 288.

_Mackoull, James, Life and Trial of_ (supposed Murderer of Begbie), 282.

Maclaurin, John, advocate, 125.

M’Lehose, Mrs, house of (Clarinda of Burns), 358.

Maclellans of Galloway, 265.

Maclennan, Rev. Roderick, St Kilda, 217.

Macleod, Alexander, of Muiravonside, 177.

Macleod, John, of Muiravonside, 214.

Macmoran, Bailie, killed, 76;
banquets held in house of, 77, 78.

Macrae, Mr, Marionville, tragical story of, 351.

Magdalen Chapel, Cowgate, 248 _n._

Mahogany Land, 47, 100.

‘Maiden,’ the, 71.

Maitland, _History of Edinburgh_, 209, 271, 272.

_Mally Lee_, a ballad, 202.

Mansfield, Earl of, 17, 265.

March, Lady, 103.

Mar, Countess of, 74, 213, 220.

Mar, Earl of, 5, 98, 119, 246.

Marionville, villa of, 323;
theatricals at, 351.

Martin’s Wynd, story of, 209.

Mary King’s Close, 36.

Mary of Guise, her house in Edinburgh, 22;
her resistance to the Reformation, 25;
erection of Free Church Hall on the site of her house, 25.

Mary, Queen, 71, 83, 109, 163, 257, 260, 271, 287.

Mary, Regent, 23.

Maugaret, Braid Ransome, 260.

Maule, William, 318.

Maxwell, Lady, of Monreith, her house, 275.

Maxwell, Sir William, 355, 356.

Meadows, the, 5.

Meldrum, George, of Dumbreck, 121.

Melrose, Abbot of, his ‘lodging’ in Edinburgh, 223.

Melville, Lord, 127 _n._, 140, 145, 305.

Merchant Street, 248.

‘Meridian,’ a, 147.

Meuse Lane, St Andrew Street, 13.

Mickle, William Julius, on Parliament Close, 116.

Miller, Sir William, of Glenlee, 251.

Milliners, a story of two, 323, 324.

Mint Close, 10, 260, 263.

Minto, Lord, 325.

Mint, the, 257-259.

Mirror, magic, story of a, 65.

_Mirror_, the, 6.

Mitchell, William, pamphleteer, 41, 42.

Mobs of Edinburgh, 183-188.

Modena, Mary of, 344.

Monastery, the Blackfriars’, 242.

Monboddo, Lord, 59, 132, 133, 303.

Monk, Peter, admiral of Denmark, 260.

Monmouth, Duchess of, 327.

Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 69, 220.

Montgomery, Lady Margaret, 328.

Montrose, Marquis of, 108, 170, 175, 308.

Moray, Bonny Earl of, 312.

Moray, Countess of, 307.

Moray House, Canongate, 306.

Moray, Lord, 66 _n._

Morocco’s Land, 299.