And here's a closer zoom - you can see these enormous wind farm structures sitting on a huge ship, ready to be taken offshore
https://www.flickr.com/photos/woolamaloo_gazette/55259592330/in/photostream/lightbox/

#Edinburgh #Edimbourg #photography #photographie #GreenEnergy #WindFarm #Leith #LeithDocks #Ship #Beateau #Engineering

Looking towards Leith and the Forth, from Calton Hill
https://www.flickr.com/photos/woolamaloo_gazette/55259331743/in/photostream/lightbox/

#Edinburgh #Edimbourg #photography #photographie #architecture #Leith #CItyscape #CaltonHill #BlackAndWhitePhotography

🌤️  Good morning Edinburgh. Wednesday’s headlines: £15.5m to tackle homelessness, victory for campaign against Shore holiday flats, Tollcross clock to return, Water of Leith camera warning + local mum wins lunch with George Clooney

⏰ Read today’s newsletter: https://www.edinburghminute.com/the-edinburgh-minute-wednesday-29-april-2026/

Photo by: @TomDuffinPhotos

#edinburgh #leith #scotland

Brown’s of Leith / Timber Bush.

#leith #edinburgh #scotland #photography #FensterFreitag

The thread about the excavation of parts of Edinburgh’s old cable tramway system from beneath Leith Walk, what the various pieces of ironmongery were and how it all worked

This thread was originally written and published in bits and pieces between 2000 and 2022 as bits of tramway came out of the ground. It has substantially re-written here to create a coherent story.

In a previous post I covered how (and why) Edinburgh came to use cable-hauled trams in the 1880s and why Leith didn’t, and also some basics of how that system worked.

The principal of operation of a cable hauled tramway is quite simple. Between the tram tracks is a slot, in which there runs an endless loop of moving cable. The cable is powered by steam engines in a winding house, from where it runs around the system under the streets on an ingenious (and complex) series of pulley wheels. The tram car is fitted with a pair of grippers which slide into the slot; to move forward it grabs the cable with a gripper and to stop it releases the cable and applies its brakes. To move across junctions, between different cables or to pass subterranean obstructions such as pulley wheels, it can perform an elaborate ceremony whereby it grabs and releases different cables with the front or rear grippers – often with a little bit of gravity assistance.

One of the most common finds has been sections of old tramway rail. A tramway rail differs from a railway rail in that the rail has a flat top with a groove in the middle of it for the flange of the wheel to run in; a railway rail has a domed top and the wheel flange hangs over the side. The rails were relaid when the move was made from cable traction (or in Leith’s case, horse) to electric, so none of the dug up rail sections will be from cable days.

The next most common item that was seen during excavations were the U-shaped cast iron “chairs” that formed the supporting base of the conduit structure in which the cable ran beneath the street surface. To better understand what were are looking at (and for, underground), a cross-section of a cable tramway is helpful, I can’t find one for Edinburgh so one from San Francisco will do as the two were fairly similar. The chairs are coloured yellow, and sat on the concrete base of the conduit.

The Edinburgh system did not use the orange cast slot shown below; it used old rails laid on top of the cast iron chairs to form the slot. Additionally it did not have the small pink cable support pulleys; it used larger, 14inch diameter pulley wheels spaced every 50 feet.

The picture below shows a pile of these iron chairs dug out from beneath Leith Walk, plus sections of old rail that had been used to form the horizontal ties. Notice the chairs are caked in old concrete, as they were set into the conduit when it was being poured.

None of the cast iron chairs are complete; all are missing their top sections; cut and cracked off. However it was not the excavation works of 2021 that caused this, it were those of 1921! A a book kindly provided to me by Chris Wright has a photo of Hanover Street, c. 1921, on the cover. In this scene, a crowd watches workmen digging up the old cable conduit system during the switch over to electric traction (which was apparently the first use of pneumatic drills in the city). The caption explains that for ease, the workmen only removed the top section of the conduit chairs when removing them; the lower sections were left concreted into their bases. There are a couple of broken sections of chair in the pile of rubble below the boy with the cricket bat.

The cables themselves were driven from the four winding houses at each of the tramway depots; Henderson Row, Tollcross, Portobello and Shrubhill (off Leith Walk). We see the Shrubhill winding house interior in the images below. The engines, each with two cylinders and producing 500hp, are in the foreground. They are connected to the cable system by the ropes strung between the pairs of enormous drums. The larger drums, in the back ground, were connected to the 10 foot diameter cable-driving pulleys.

The cables were tensioned on weighted pulleys hung from the wall of the winding house, before exiting the building down a long tunnel from the winding house off Dryden Street at the northern end of the site to Leith Walk. The below photo shows the remains of one of these tunnels being demolished in the 1960s during works outside Shrubhill.

These tunnels ran to large brick chambers beneath the road surface and ran off up and down Leith Walk. Each cable required two pulleys; one for it on its outbound journey and one for it returning back to the winding house. Shrubhill drove two cables, so required two sets of these pulleys in chambers below Leith Walk. The diagram below shows the State Street Cable Car power station in Chicago. The winding engines are in yellow and drive 4 sets of cables. The red and blue cables head off right and left out of the power station. The two green cables are for different lines; they travel to the start of those lines “blind” (i.e. not pulling trams), which is why they are running in between the two sets of tracks, rather than between the rails like the red and blue cables. Each cable reaches the end of its line where it turns around and comes back to the power station. Shrubhill was very similar to this but drove only two cables; one for St. Andrew Square and Leith Walk, which also served the branch to Abbeyhill, the other for the Bridges to Newington.

The illustration below shows a cross section of those cables coming to and from the winding house down the tunnels, running around the pulleys in their chambers and then off around the network. The chambers are brick built, with arched steel plate roofs. This is a conceptual railway, but has two driven cables, rather like Shrubhill. Notice the return pulley is inclined so as to be able to sit underneath the outward pulley.

The below images show the destruction of the brick walls of one of the Shrubhill pulley chambers under Leith Walk. The dark patches are not tunnels, the one on the left is a recess in the chamber walls and the other seems to be a previous collapse that had been filled in with concrete.

The image below, taken of the same overall excavation hole as those above, shows the huge steel roof section of the chamber – the frame is almost identical to drawings of one for the terminal pulley of one of the Henderson Row cables. There is a supporting structure of steel I-beams that would have sat on the brick walls and foundations, and the metal sheet sections forming the roof on which the road surface lay. The large pulleys that directed the cables in and out of the tunnels to the winding house sat directly below this.

These chambers, and others around the system (particularly where there were junctions) were manned to make sure the cable was running properly. Children were in the habit of tying a can to a piece of string, then dropping the loose end into the slot in the road, where it would catch the cable and be dragged off up the road creating an amusing racket. If there was any snag or derailment of the cable, they would phone back to the powerhouse, who would disengage the cable until it could be reset or re-spliced, or the offending item untangled from it.

The excavations here also uncovered the structure of the railway tunnel under Leith Walk, where the North British Railway passed beneath. This was incredibly close to the surface (as a result of the tunnel being built after the road surface, and the Town Council refusing to allow the road level to be raised where it passed overhead); the outer skin of the tunnel is about only 30cm or a foot below the surface. Indeed, a special system had to be devised here to support the new tramway as there was not enough space to fit the standard concrete track slab. You will notice a large trough in the tunnel structure here. This, I think, is where the cable for North Bridge to Newington ran, as it was not used for traction purposes here and is described as “running blind” as far as Picardy Place, where it came in to use to go up Leith Street.

The shallowness of this tunnel totally precludes the urban myths of any tunnels under the road running up Leith Walk towards Elm Row from Shrubhill. Those tunnels are actually a single passageway, just large enough for a man to walk up, that ran under the pavement from Mcdonald Road up to Picardy Place, which was to carry the first electricity cables into the city from the McDonald Road Power Station.

When Edinburgh moved to replace its entire horse-drawn tramway with the cable system across the city, for various reasons Leith declined. Up until the last minute, it had been hoped and assumed that a compromise could be reached and that Leith would join; but it declined to do so. The Shrubhill winding house had a third winding drum for a cable round the Leith rails, but it was never used. Instead, the cable ran from the winding house at Shrubhill, turned left down the hill to the municipal boundary at Pilrig Street, and then ran back up the hill towards Edinburgh again. This meant that passengers had to change onto a Leith tram to proceed any further north (and vice versa). This 24 year inconvenience became known as the Pilrig Muddle. In the below photo, an Edinburgh cable car loads its passengers at the terminus of the line at Pilrig Street. In the background, the electric cars of the Leith system wait for the exchange of passengers heading the other way. exactly where this pit is.

There was another one of these awkward interchanges on the network, at Joppa, which I like to call the Joppa Jumble. Here the cable line from Portobello met Musselburgh’s electric system and again a change had to be made for through travel. But this was at least at the network end, not the middle of a principal route, and traffic here was much lighter

https://www.flickr.com/photos/johnmightycat/5967127413

The terminus of the cable car lines was always on a short, single line siding of track on a slight incline. If the terminus was a downhill incline; the car would disengage from the cable and run by gravity into the siding, where it would pick up the cable running back the other way with its other gripper. The process was reversed for an uphill terminus; it ran into the siding on the cable, and ran out of it by gravity to the return cable. This was required as the cable could not be gripped where the it ran around the huge terminal pulley to change direction. This is shown by the diagram below, where the terminal pulley is in blue, inclined so as to fit below the street surface. The cable (red and white dashed line) is guided to and from it by the orange pulleys.

Much excitement erupted at the Pilrig Muddle in August 2021 when unexpectedly (considering this shoul dhave been discovered way back during the first round of tram works), an almost completely intact terminal pulley chamber was uncovered, with not one but two huge pulleys, each totally complete and in remarkable condition. Both were still sitting on their original bearings, just as they had been left almost exactly 100 years before when they were covered up and forgotten about!

The Pilrig Muddle pulleys are unusual for two reasons. Firstly, they are mounted vertically, usually they were horizontal. Secondly, they are back to back, which makes little sense for the terminus of the line. I suspect they are vertical as the street is narrower here, so there was less room to fit them in horizontally. And I think there are two back to back in anticipation of the cable being extended down Leith Walk into that burgh (which of course never happened). The red pulley on the right would have returned the Edinburgh red cable back up Leith Walk to Shrubhill. The blue one on the left would have returned the blue Leith Walk cable back down to the Foot of the Walk. If the cable had been extended to Leith, at Pilrig trams coming uphill from Leith would have swapped from the blue to the red cable here as they crossed the civic boundary. Because Leith was never added to the cable system, if I am correct the blue pulley would therefore never have been used.

The below animation shows how a car would have swapped cables here. A car travels with its front gripper engaging the cable. As it approaches the end of the cable, it is released before the gripper gets dragged into the pulley. To move onto the next cable it can either use its momentum (known as a “fly shunt”), can use gravity if it is running down hill, or it can push itself off the cable onto the next one by using its rear gripper. When the front gripper is over the next cable, it can be re-enaged and the car sets off again. This was a laborious (and potentially hazardous) process, so by design a cable car network keeps junctions and switching between cables to a minimum.

If you look closely to the left of the archaeologist squatting on the ground peering into the chamber you can see the conduits for electrical wires on the wall along with a box. This is either for electric lighting or the communication telephone.

Pilrig was not “de-muddled” until 1922 after the amalgamation of the Burgh of Leith and its Tramway into that of the City of Edinburgh. Edinburgh quickly decided to adopt the electric system of Leith and rapidly converted one to the other. The picture below shows the Muddle being converted. A cable car has reached the terminus at Pilrig Street and is about to return back up the hill. You can see the slot between the tracks for the cable. The tracks on the right are being relaid for the electric trams and a new junction to connect down the Leith Corporation tracks on Pilrig Street is being incorporated. The centre poles for the overhead wires are already in place. I suspect the reason that the Pilrig pulley chamber was left in such good condition, with its pulleys still in situ, was the speed with which the switchover was made. There was no time to demolish the chamber, remove its pulleys and infill it. The new tracks were simply built over it and connected together one night to allow for running of the electric trams the next day.

When Leith Corporation rebuilt its horse tramway for electric traction in 1904-1905, it constructed a large new depot on Leith Walk. This later became the Leith Depot of Edinburgh Corporation Tramways. Sadly the depot structure was demolished for no good reason about 4 years ago now, but the depot office building remains. During excavations at the rear of this, the brick outlines of inspection pits appeared, where the running gear could have been checked and maintained without having to lift the tram body off of it. The tram rails would have run along the top of these walls, see the lower picture for an example.

Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.

If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
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The thread about Leith’s lost “Eagle Buildings” and what connects them to the building of the Forth Bridge

This thread was originally written and published in September 2020.

I saw a photo tweeted by the excellent Scran resource and was struck by the coincidence that I had looked the place up only a few days before when I had come across some other photos of it on Flickr.

https://twitter.com/Scranlife/status/1308652327373606912?s=20&t=RiEzrm-6XhDoBt2_yhUtig

The Eagle Buildings were at 5 Tower Street in Leith, next to the Sailor’s Home (now Malmaison Hotel).

Here they are in 1992, when it was being used as a workshop and store by a shopfitter. The photographer suggests demolition was in 1997.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/cagiva1994/14016906377/

Most of that “sandstone” front was mock and was actually a showcase of the Portland cement wares of its occupants, Currie & Co. Ltd, Building-Trade Merchants in Glasgow, Edinburgh, Leith and across the Scottish central belt.

Currie & Co, Ltd. had been incorporated in April 1898 by the merger of two similar building supply and cement merchant businesses owned by John Patrick Currie:

• Currie & Co. of Glasgow, founded in 1873, headquartered in Wellington Street. Subsidiary companies included the North British Asphalt Company, the North British Coal and Firewood Company and the Eagle Portland Cement Co. This is the eagle connection; it was a brand to sell cement.
• Joseph A. Currie & Co. of Edinburgh and Leith, founded in 1875 and headquartered in Bernard Street in Leith. This business had been bought in 1893 by John Patrick on the death of his brother Joseph Allan at the age of only 42.

This 1911 advert reveals that they had a lineage going back to the late 18th century through A. M. Ross & Sons, slate merchants in Glasgow.

The headquarters had moved from Glasgow to 19 Rose Street in Edinburgh around this time, that building too was called the Eagle Buildings and it remains so to this day. If you crane your neck and look up as you pass, you’ll see an eagle watching over you high above in its “eerie”.

Joseph Allan Currie was born in Cupar, Fife, in 1851. At the age of only 21 he was appointed manager of the Waltham Abbey Gas Works in London. He returned north and settled in Leith two years later, bringing with him a new trade of Portland cement merchant. Cement was not manufactured in Scotland at the time, but was imported from the Medway. Leith was therefore the perfect base for such a venture. Joseph Allan added plaster of Paris, pavement stone, lime, fireclay and earthenware to this business, becoming a successful builders merchant, growing the business to become one of the largest in Scotland. In 1894 his company was reported as being the largest suppliers of roofing felt in the region; an increasingly popular product due to the increasing cost of roofing slate and timber.

His obituary described him as having “indefatigable energy, strong personality and business tact“. Joseph was remarkable as being the sole suppliers of Portland cement for both the Forth Bridge works and the ill-fated first Tay Bridge.

The construction of the Forth Bridge required some 20,000 tons of Portland cement, which was manufactured on the River Medway and was brought by sea to South Queensferry. Here it was transferred to an old hulk that Currie had purchased called the Hougomont; a ship that had been built in Burma as a convict transport for Australia. The Hougomont could store 1,200 tons of cement, which had to be stored for a certain number of days before it was used. When smallpox broke out amongst the workers in 1886, the Hougomont was moved to Port Edgar and used as an isolation hospital, helping the outbreak to be quickly dealt with.

John Patrick Currie – born 1848 – continued to run the business and became the largest Scottish building merchant and cement distributor, Scottish agents for I. C. Johnson & Co. Isaac Charles Johnson and his business partner had painstakingly reverse-engineered existing cement products, improved them and then produced a different product that they were careful to make sure was not subject to existing patents.

An 1894 description of the company in a trade publication states:

The commodities which Messrs. Currie & Co. deal in principally are: Portland cement, Scotch and Irish limes, pavement, freestone, crushed granite, Arran sand, slates, fireclay goods, barytes, umber, plaster of Paris, whiting, &c. In all these lines Messrs. Currie & Co. hold large stocks, and are ready to meet any demands with promptitude. Their standing is accepted as a guarantee of quality, and they spare no effort to maintain their high reputation for reliable material. The business in every department receives the direct personal attention of its founder and sole proprietor, Mr. John P. Currie, a gentleman whose commercial capabilities are well demonstrated in the success that has attended this influential concern. The business in which Mr. Currie is now so actively engaged derives its support from a thoroughly representative and increasing connection, and continues to develop.

It seems that the Curries named nearly all their properties Eagle Buildings, with at least 3 in Glasgow.

John Patrick died at home in Edinburgh in March 1919 at the age of 71. After his death, the company seems to have moved its headquarters to another Eagle Buildings, this time in Dock Street, Dundee. By this time it was an agent for the Cement Marketing Company, which would eventually rename itself after its most famous product; Blue Circle Portland Cement. The company was still trading in 1953, after which the trail in newspaper archives goes cold.

Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.

If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends and like-minded people, sites like this thrive on being shared.

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NO AI TRAINING: Any use of the contents of this website to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

The thread about Conder Tokens; when Edinburgh and Leith issued their own money

This thread was originally written and published in September 2020.

Today I have found out about Conder Tokens. Did you know about Conder Tokens? Until yesterday I didn’t know what they were and until today I didn’t know what they were called

Long story short, in 18th century Britain there was a chronic shortage of small denomination coinage due to excessive counterfeiting and low production of non-precious coins by the Royal Mint. But demand for them was soaring due to industrialisation and the need to pay workers and that there were ever more consumer goods around for people to buy. As a result, counterfeit coinage boomed, perhaps two thirds of all low-value coins may have been forgeries. The Royal Mint’s response was to simply stop producing copper coins and for 48 years from 1773-1821, they struck no copper coins.A Welsh industrialist – Thomas Williams of Llanidan, “the Copper King” – proposed an anti-counterfeiting edge to the coins to the Royal Mint so long as they used his copper, but they declined.

Clearly a modern industrial country could not function without a means to pay and buy, so industry, led by Williams, resorted to simply producing their own coinage. Such coins, or tokens, could be traded freely at the denoted value and presented to some wealthy sponsoring merchant, industrialist or local worthy for exchange as required. Most people didn’t travel far or hold on to money for long, so these tokens were an ideal way for them to be paid and for them to buy things.

The idea quickly caught on. The tokens were of a much higher quality than official coinage – indeed they are instantly recognisable to us as a variation of our modern pennies – and as they were issued by prominent businessmen the provenance could be trusted. The value of the copper content also made them less susceptible to being speculated on than promissory notes or other cheap tokens – they had an intrinsic value of their own. One of the biggest manufacturers of such coins was the industrialist Matthew Boulton (James “Condensing Steam Engine” Watt’s business partner).

Boulton had the machinery, the capital, the interests in copper mines, a personal stock of copper bought in a slump in the market and the contacts. He established the Soho Mint in the West Midlands in 1788 and went into volume minting of quality tokens. His machines were of his own patented design and were driven by steam engines. Each could mint 70 to 85 coins per minute.

Such was the demand for small coinage, these tokens quickly spread and were issued on a town-by-town, county-by-county basis. As such they are often called Provincial Tokens. The name Conder Token comes from James Conder, an issuer of such coins who soon became an avid collector and cataloguer of them.

In 1797, the Government finally came to its senses about the financial crisis and issued Boulton a contract to mint official copper coinage and so provincial tokens began to wane. Production ceased by 1802, with a brief return in 1811-12, before finally being forbidden in 1817. Many Scottish municipalities joined in issuing local coinage during this time. The table shows the number of different coins known for each area of the country. The financial capital in the Lothians and the industrial capital in Lanarkshire were unsurprisingly the most prolific, alongside the trade centre in Dundee (Angus).

And so this is how we come to there being such a thing as a Leith Ha’penny. This one, of 1797, shows a sailing ship on one side – an obvious Leith connection – and Britannia on the rear.

And the John White (a merchant of the Kirkgate) Leith ha’penny, wishing “Success to the Port” with another nautical scene, showing a ship entering the Port of Leith, and featuring the stuff of profitable trade on the back; gin and tea.

So of course if Leith has Ha’pennies, of course Edinburgh has to have them to! Notice that Britannia is a gain a common theme, as are recognisable civic buildings. WRIGHT DES on the front refers to James Wright, an engraver from Dundee who designed many tokens. He was a correspondent with Conder, himself and was as keen a proponent and collector of them.

And another version, earlier from 1790, featuring the municipal coat of arms and motto, thistles, and St. Andrew himself. Note the anchor on the rear, a symbol of both Edinburgh’s merchant prosperity and also its dominance over its port at Leith. These tokens were produced by Messrs. Hutchinson of Creech’s Land, an important old building at the west end of the Luckenbooths where Alan Ramsay had his book shop and had opened Scotland’s first circulating library in 1725.

The Campbell’s Snuff of Edinburgh Ha’penny, the Turk’s Head being a connection to smoking. if you squint you can make out the name “James” below the head, for the engraver Charles James. Campbell’s shop was apparently the business of Euphame Campbell, which makes this doubly interesting as it must have been very rare to have a token in the name of a woman.

The Archibald, Seedsman of Edinburgh Ha’penny. The coin features an Archibald family coat of arms on the front and an advert for his wares on the back. This Archibald was Joseph Archibald of West Nicolson Street, a burgess of the city, who kept a shop at 88 Chapel Street and a nursery at Lauriston, where a street, Archibald Place, is named for him.

Harrison of St. Leonards, Ha’penny. Henry Harrison was a bucklemaker on St. Leonard’s Hill. Harrison’s cypher is on the reverse, with the anchor of trade on the front.

Anderson, Leslie & Company Ha’penny from 1797, featuring the then new college building of the University on South Bridge. Again James Wright was the engraver. The wording around the edge of the reverse translates as “Nor let even the poor and infertile grounds lie neglected” and features a gardener. Not surprisingly given this design and wording, Anderson, Leslie & Company were also Seedsmen, based opposite the Mercat Cross in the Old Town.

The Scran archive has a wide range of photos of other Scottish Conder tokens (If you have a library card issued by most Scottish councils, you can log in using your library card number to get more meta content and bigger pictures) – click here.

Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.

If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends and like-minded people, sites like this thrive on being shared.

Explore Threadinburgh by map:

These threads © 2017-2026, Andy Arthur.

NO AI TRAINING: Any use of the contents of this website to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

The thread about Edinburgh and Leith under occupation; when “Gardyloo”, Christmas and being rude to Frenchmen were banned

From 1548 to 1560, the Port of Leith was occupied by a French garrison in support of the Queen Regent of Scotland, Mary of Guise. During that time the French fortified the town and made themselves generally unpopular with the locals. Such was the mutual bad feeling that in 1555 Mary of Guise’s Parliament made it an offence to speak ill of Frenchmen. I am not sure if this act has been repealed yet…

One of the reasons for the French being so unpopular was their constant requisitioning of ships – this was a town that relied on the sea for its prosperity and in doing so the occupiers were directly impoverishing its occupants. As a result of this, shipowners were in the habit of making their vessels be spontaneously elsewhere whenever they got wind that the French might need them, which created logistical problems for the garrison commander. In 1550, the French governor in Leith employed two pynours (porters) to remove and impound all the rudders of the ships of Leith to prevent them from slipping away without his say-so. Twelve days later, all Scottish vessels from Kinghorn to Crail were ordered to leave for Leith within three hours or face being forfeited with their masters put to death.

Opposing the French in Leith were Scottish Protestant lords – the grandiosely titled Lords of the Congregation, or The Faithful – backed by an English army. An English general, Randolph, noted in 1560 that “in no other country were ever seen so many particular quarrels, which daily cause many to keep off who mortally hate the French“: Randolph could not understand how the Scots resented the French occupiers so much but yet were so reluctant to fight with the English against them. He had money to finance 2-3,000 Scots troops to eject the French but could not get them “for love nor money“. The English ended up assaulting Leith under an incompetent commander, with untrained recruits and ladders that were too short to scale the walls. This amateurish attack was repulsed by the stretched, starving but competent and well entrenched French garrison. Further bloodshed was spared when Mary of Guise died shortly thereafter and a short peace was agreed, allowing the French to leave.

Less than 100 years after the exit of the French, Leith would find itself once again under military occupation after the calamitous defeat in 1650 of the Scottish Covenanter forces at the hands of Oliver Cromwell in the Battle of Dunbar. Relations between occupier and occupied this time were less strained; although English rule was firm and uncompromising there appeared to be more mutual tolerance on both sides, probably both were just exhausted from nearly 12 years of bloody warfare. The population and economy of Leith had also been shattered by a plague in 1645 that killed nearly half its population.

Cromwell entered Edinburgh on Saturday 7th December, just days after victory at Dunbar. Although the remnants of the Scottish army fought on it had abandoned the city to wage a protracted war of retreat across the country. The occupation was initially marked by restraint on the part of the victors and under Cromwell’s direct orders on 27th December three of his men were publicly flogged through the town by the “Provest marschellis men” for the offence of plundering houses without orders. Another unfortunate Roundhead was strapped to a horse with a pint jug tied around his neck, his hands bound and muskets tied to his feet, and ridden around the town for 2 hours for the offence of drunkenness. In May 1652, an English officer had his ear nailed to the public gallows and thereafter cut off for toasting the King’s health.

Civilian administration in those days was relatively limited, but the English were sensible enough to allow that of Edinburgh to continue to function – under close observation. Leith however had no such local authority of its own beyond that of Edinburgh and so was ruled directly through military courts headed by English officers “without partiality or favour“. In November 1651 they hung one of their own troopers at the Market Cross “a gallant, stout fellow” for robbing a butcher. A soldier found drunk and swearing in Leith was bound, hit repeatedly in the mouth and tied to a pillar with “a paper bound to his breast” specifying his crimes. Relations in Leith with the English seemed to be downright cordial at times (perhaps because the locals were pleased to be relieved of the constant political and economic interference from Edinburgh) but things ended up becoming too cordial. In October 1651 English soldiers had to be forbidden from marrying Leith women without the written permission of their Major and in February 1652 this prohibition was extended to the keeping of female servants!

In Edinburgh, although the town itself had been easily taken, the Castle garrison had held out and was being besieged by Cromwell’s New Model Army. Anyone found treating with the garrison was dealt with severely. A gardener at the West Kirk (now St. Cuthbert’s Parish Church) was accused of giving intelligence to the Castle; he was taken to the city guardhouse and hung from his thumbs with burning slow matches (the sort used in matchlock firearms) between his fingers until they were “burnt to the bone“.

In March 1651 the English soldiers in Edinburgh mutinied due to the lack of provisions and pay; what had been sent to them by sea had been turned back by unfavourable weather. They put their own commanders in jail and “ran through the markets of Edinburgh, plundering and robbing the people of the town, so that few would go out on the streets“. General John Lambert arrived in Edinburgh at the end of November that year to restore order and to make arrangements for quartering of his army in the city over winter. He seems to have made a positive impression with the locals; on finding out that there was no local magistrate in place to dispense justice, he reinstated some of the old ones. He also ordered the Incorporated Trades to choose their own Deacons (the principal officers of the Trades, who formed a core of the Town Council). He did however maintain a right of veto over appointments and kept the appointment of the Castle’s governor to his personal choice.

In December, Lambert ordered citizens in both Edinburgh and Leith to hang out lanterns and place candles in their windows or doors from 6PM to 9PM on account of the disorder being committed by the soldiers. This was observed but cost the inhabitants dearly as candles were an expensive commodity. Anybody found not complying was to be fined 4 shillings sterling, with the master or mistress of the house being thrown in the city guardhouse until it was paid. He also set about the perhaps impossible task of the cleaning up of Auld Reekie. Orders were given on the 24th December that the streets, closes and wynds in Edinburgh were be cleansed within 13 days and “no filth or water should be thrown forth from their windows upon pain of paying immediately 4 shillings sterling“. The proceeds of such fines were to be split equally between the informant and the poor of the town. Clearly it did not have a long lasting effect as just three years later the city was ordered to procure carts and horses for the carrying away of the filth.

On December 25th 1651 the English authorities in Leith ordered that Christmas should be banned. The point being made here was probably moot however given it was not something that would have been openly observed or celebrated in Presbyterian Scotland. Indeed the Kirk, the usual incumbent authority on moral matters in Scottish towns and burghs, had banned its celebration back in 1640. However ten years later it had nothing like its former authority, especially in Leith where it had been evicted from its church buildings and relieved of its civic duties by the occupiers.

On February 7th 1652, under orders of the Commissioners of the English Parliament who were at that time resident in Dalkeith, the symbols of the Stuart Kings’ arms, crowns and royal unicorns of the city were taken down wherever they were to be found. They were stripped from the King’s pew at St. Giles’ Kirk, from the Mercat cross, the Netherbow Port, Parliament House, Edinburgh Castle and the palace of Holyroodhouse. They were then taken to the gallows and publicly hung.

In May 1654 General Monck, who had been Cromwell’s military commander in Scotland until 1652, came once again to Edinburgh to proclaim the union of England and Scotland as the Commonwealth. He was received by the Lord Provost and Bailies of the Town Council (the most senior members of the civilian authority) in their finery. Perhaps they were mindful of the rape and pillage of Dundee committed by Monck’s men back in 1651 and set out to woo the General lest they incur his wrath. They conveyed him to a “sumptuous dinner and feast, prepared by the Town of Edinburgh for him and his special officers. This feast was six days in preparing, and the bailies of Edinburgh did stand and serve the whole time of that dinner“. They also laid on a “great preparation” of fireworks which were set off from the Mercat Cross between 9PM and midnight, “to the admiration of many people“.

Cromwell also left it to Monck to resolve the interminable squabbles between the city of Edinburgh and Port of Leith. The latter wanted freedom to trade without interference from its neighbour, the former wanted to assert its historic legal rights to her port. An English merchant in Leith at the time said that the town had been “under the greatest slavery that I ever knew” and should subject to under Edinburgh no more than “Westminster to London.” As part of his overall strategy to pacify and control Scotland, Monck proposed enclosing Leith in fortifications as a garrison town – probably reconstructing the 1560 walls and bastions. The prospect of this terrified Edinburgh, as it would make it substantially easier for Leith to act independently. Edinburgh shrewdly counter-offered that it would pay £5,000 instead for a standalone Citadel outside of Leith – or it may be that the it was Monck being shrewd and he had played Edinburgh off against Leith to get them to finance his scheme. In the end the £5,000 citadel apparently cost many times that to build. The city would later buy it back for a further £5,000 from Charles II, so ended up paying for it twice. Although it was well engineered it was soon abandoned as a defensive fortification; the seaward walls and bastions had been impossible to protect from erosion by the sea and had collapsed within 30 years.

By May 1660, the Commonwealth was over (assisted in no small part by Monck) and the Houses of Parliament had proclaimed Charles II to be King. Orders were sent to the Governor of Edinburgh castle to fire 3 volleys from the guns, one for each of the Three Kingdoms. The chief gunner at the Castle gave the orders to his men but one refused saying that “The devil [would] blow him in the air that loosed a cannon for that purpose” and “if he loosed any cannon that day sum man should repent it“. The complainant was transferred to a gun overlooking the West Kirk. The first volley was duly fired and when this man went to reload his weapon, he recharged it with powder only for it to spontaneously discharge while he was doing so, there being a smouldering ember in the barrel. He was blown clean over the castle walls and off the Castle Rock itself, falling over 250 feet to his death. He was buried near where he landed in the West Kirk.

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