Under the ivy

Ye wid think, wid ye no, that Edinburgh's New Toun wid be a grand place tae bide. Aw thae sweepin crescents, wide open boulevards, an elegant spacious apartments. As soon as it wis bigged it became the residence o choice fer aw the high-an-michty o Embra toun. Fae the sainted David Hume doonwards, the cream o Embra came flockin ower that big new North Brig tae stake their claim tae a wee bit o the Enlightened City. Enough they had had o smelly closes an draughty entrys, they wanted tae fu their lungs wi guid fresh air, an be thought o as civilised, as polite, as rational.

That aw sounds fair enough, ah hear ye say. How could ye argue, how could ye no want tae follae them? How could ye resist the lure o thae clean modern lines an that pleasant architecture?

Easy. Ah wid raither get a slater stuck up ma nose than bide there, but tae explain why ah'm gaunnae hae tae take ye a wee dauner doon the hill, doon guid auld Leith Walk.

Here. Take a haud o ma haun. The roads are awfy busy roon here these days, an ye've got tae watch ye dinnae fa doon yin o thae holes they keep diggin. They're busier than they were three or fower hunner year ago, when this street wis ca'ed Leith Loan. Back then there were nae tenements or shops, jist a rough road atween fields, wi mibbe a wee sma'holdin' here an there, an auld man in a boat, an a couple o kye lowin at us as we pass by. This wis the straightest road fae Embra tae Leith. No the main road, that wid be the Easter Road, but the road folk wid tak if they were oan fit, which ah aye wis. Nae cars, nae buses, nae tramcars, jist folk traipsin up an doon fae city tae port...

But, hing oan, whit's that ower there? ye say. Whit's that dark, ominous object swingin fae thon stand oan that wee hill? ye say.

Where? Oh that? Weel that wee hill wid be ca'ed the Gallow Lee, jist up a bit fae the Shrubhill, an aye, that shape hingin there's an auld corpse. Ye see, oor lords an maisters, in their wisdom, thocht it wid be a rare laugh tae hing miscreants in the maist obvious an public spots they could find. Doon oan the Shore, up at the Mercat Cross, doon in the Grassmarket, or right by the Loan. They wid use the Loan fer hingin when they were worrit aboot 'crowd control', when they were feart o riotin in the High Street. Many o the Covenanters ended their days up oan the Gallow Lea, includin auld Major Weir, an then they jist left them there tae dangle in the wind, swingin there as a warnin tae us aw tae behave oorsels. Swingin there fer the craws an ither birds tae feed oan...

Efter a time, yince the craws had had their fill, they wid cut the bodies doon, burn whit wis left, an bury the ashes on the sandy hill.

Here. Ah can see ah've upset ye, ye're lookin a bitty green at the gills. Let's nip intae the Half-way Hoose fer a wee cup o tea. Thae days may seem gruesome tae us lookin back, but at the time it was par fer the course, aw pairt o life's rich tapestry as ye might say, an complainin wid only get ye locked up in the Tolbooth. Or worse.

Are ye awright? Yer tea hot enough? Wid ye like a wee piece oan cheese tae go wi that? Fine then, ah'll get oan...

Noo. When Big Geordie Drummond had his great idea, tae extend the city oot tae the north, an create a 'New Town', he had tae cast aroon fer buildin materials. Maist o the stane wis dug oot fae thon enormous quarry doon at Craigleith, where noo stauns a huge shoppin centre. Beautiful clear sandstane by the ton wis hewn oot by big brawny navvies, an cairted up tae Barefoot's Park, where they were layin oot the Princes' Street. But lo! Whit were they gaunnae use tae stick aw thae stanes th'gether?

Well. Did they no go an find a sandy hill, dig oot aw the sand, an mix it up wi lime tae make mortar? Are ye still wi me? That's right, they dug up the Gallow Lee, alang wi aw thae ashes, mixed it up fer cement, an bigged the New Toun!

Aw through oor World Heritage Treasure run the remains o martyrs, miscreants, an common criminals, hung an then hung oot tae dry, pecked tae bits by craws an daws, burnt tae cinders, then mashed up wi sand an slaked oan the very stanes that tae this day hae folk open-moothed in awe at the 'grandeur' at the 'magnificence' at the 'beauty' o Edinburgh's New Town.

Gie me ma wee tenement doon at the Shin o the Walk. Ah'll no be daein wi bits o the deid pepperin ma wa's. Ah like tae be able tae sleep at night. Noo awa hame wi ye. Ye'll hae had yer tea...