Tuesday 24 August 2021

Skulferatu #41 - Leith Walk Railway Bridge, Leith, Edinburgh

 

Today I went for a walk to Leith Walk Railway Bridge, a place that is no more and was taken down years ago.  However, the viaduct buildings and the abutments that the bridge sat on are still there.

 

Remains of Leith Walk Railway Bridge on Jane Street, Leith, Edinburgh with tram works running along Leith Walk.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Remains of Leith Walk Railway Bridge on Jane Street

 

The bridge was built as part of Caledonian Railways, New Leith Line, that ran from Newhaven to the east of Leith Docks.  It crossed over Leith Walk from the viaduct at Jane Street over to the viaduct at Manderston Street and on to the docks.  An elevated two platform passenger station was also built at Manderston Street but was never used.  The railway never carried passengers and was instead used as a goods line.  The line was closed in 1968.  The bridge was dismantled and taken down in 1980.

 

The Leith born poet, Jock Scot, recalled that he used to live near to the bridge, and it was something he saw as being part of the fabric of Leith Walk.  One day he and his family went off on holiday and when he came back the bridge was gone.  Being upset about the disappearance of the bridge he wrote a poem for it called ‘Farewell to Ferodo.’ 



Today, on a hot summer’s day I took a stroll down Leith Walk accompanied by the noise of heavy machinery from the ongoing tram works, that take up much of the road and pavement at the moment.  I then cut round the back of the buildings that ran along the Walk to the bridge.  Most of these are now empty and will form part of a development project that is rumbling its way through the council Planning Department.  There is then a dirt path that leads up to where the railway ran.  It is fenced off, but part of the fence has been removed, so it is easy to gain access to…for just now anyway.

 

The walls that run along the viaduct buildings on the Jane Street side of Leith Walk are colourful with graffiti, while the track bed for the railway is now very overgrown.  Looking out over the walls there were some great views over Leith and up Leith Walk into Edinburgh.

 

Site of the railway that led to the bridge - now a grassy area with heavily graffitied brick walls running alongside. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Site of the railway that led to the bridge

 

Site of the railway that led to the bridge - a grassy area leading down to a wall that blocks off the area where the bridge used to stand.  A lone telegraph pole stands in the corner by the wall.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Site of the railway that led to the bridge

 

Graffiti on wall running up to site of bridge - graffiti of colourful faces that all have tears running from their eyes.  The word kidneys is painted beside them.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Graffiti on wall running up to site of bridge

 

Graffiti on wall running up to site of bridge - spray painted, colourful skulls of the type seen at Day of the Dead.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Graffiti on wall running up to site of bridge

 

Graffiti on wall running up to site of bridge - the word Paper with an exclamation mark is spray painted in red and silver.  A building standing on Leith Walk can be seen in the left hand corner of the photo.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Graffiti on wall running up to site of the bridge

 

Wall blocking off gap where bridge once stood - it is spray painted with skulls and tags.  Buildings from the other side of Leith Walk can be seen.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Wall blocking off gap where bridge once stood

 

View across Leith Walk to the other side of viaduct on which the bridge stood. A bus is passing by below in Leith Walk.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
View across Leith Walk to the other side of viaduct on which the bridge stood

 

View from Leith Walk Bridge up to Arthur’s Seat - view over the roof tops of houses to a large hill.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
View from Leith Walk Bridge up to Arthur’s Seat

 

View from bridge over rooftops up to Calton Hill - view over the flat roof of a group of commercial units up to a hill with a monument standing on it.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
View from bridge over rooftops up to Calton Hill


View from bridge up Leith Walk to Calton Hill - view of rows of tenement houses up to a hill with monuments on it.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
View from bridge up Leith Walk to Calton Hill

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in a gap in the wall near to some metal girders that would have once been part of the bridge over Leith Walk.  

 

Skulferatu #41 - a small, clay skull being held up with a view of the remains of the Leith Walk Railway Bridge in the background.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Skulferatu #41

 

Skulferatu #41 in wall at remains of Leith Walk Railway Bridge - Skulferatu is in a gap in the wall next to an iron block with rivets in it. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Skulferatu #41 in wall at remains of Leith Walk Railway Bridge

 

Skulferatu #41 in wall at remains of Leith Walk Railway Bridge - a close up view of the Skulferatu in the gap in the wall. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Skulferatu #41 in wall at remains of Leith Walk Railway Bridge

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #41
Map showing location of Skulferatu #41

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.968975

Longitude -3.173440

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday 17 August 2021

Skulferatu #40 - Muschet's Cairn, Holyrood Park, Edinburgh

 

If you enter Holyrood Park from Meadowbank Terrace and walk a short way along Duke’s Walk, you may notice a pile of rocks that appear to have been abandoned.  However, on closer examination you will find that this is a low cairn, roughly cemented together.  Like me, on first seeing it you may think ‘What the **** is that about?’  Well, it turns out that it is a cairn laid in the memory of a victim of a horrible murder that took place in the park in 1720.  

 

Muschet’s or Muschat's Cairn, on the gentle slope of a grassy mound by Dukes Walk in Holyrood Park commemorates Margaret Hall, the victim of a horrible murder by her husband Nicol Muschet after several failed attempts to kill her by Nicol and his friends. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Muschet’s Cairn, on the gentle slope of a grassy mound in Holyrood Park

 

Muschet’s or Muschat's Cairn, on the gentle slope of a grassy mound by Dukes Walk in Holyrood Park commemorates Margaret Hall, the victim of a horrible murder by her husband Nicol Muschet after several failed attempts to kill her by Nicol and his friends. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Muschet’s Cairn in Holyrood Park

 

Muschet’s or Muschat's Cairn, on the gentle slope of a grassy mound by Dukes Walk in Holyrood Park commemorates Margaret Hall, the victim of a horrible murder by her husband Nicol Muschet after several failed attempts to kill her by Nicol and his friends.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Muschet’s Cairn by Duke’s Walk, Holyrood Park

 

One of the main characters in the story behind the cairn is a rather pathetic individual called Nicol Muschet.  Nicol was the eldest of several children and was brought up in an extremely religious and God fearing, Presbyterian household, at the family estate in Boghall.  His father died when he was young and after this Nicol became a bit of a mollycoddled mummy’s boy, who made a show of being pious and holy to please his mother. 

 

As a young man, Nicol left the clutches of his mother and went to Edinburgh where he studied at the university there to become a surgeon.  Like many young students leaving home for the first time, Nicol soon discovered the joys of bad company, drunkenness, and sex.  After graduating as a surgeon in 1716, Nicol moved to Alloa and became an apprentice to the surgeon John Napier.  However, he found that Napier had little work for him and his life in Alloa was very dull compared to the life he had lived in Edinburgh. So, after a year or so Nicol left Alloa and returned back home to his mother, thinking that living the life of a country Laird could be to his liking.  There though, he soon found that he had no aptitude for managing the estate and his mother’s piety and the way she expected him to live his life irritated him greatly.  It was not long before he was looking for something else to do.

 

In August 1719 Nicol took a trip to Edinburgh to watch a dissection take place at the university.  He took some temporary lodgings with a view to maybe staying on and finding work in the town as a surgeon.  A few days after arriving he was out walking when he passed the house belonging to Adam Hall, a merchant of the town.  Standing outside was the maid of the house and Nicol recognised her as an acquaintance from his days as a student.  He stopped to chat with her, and she invited him into the house for a drop of ale.  They had a drink together and caught up with what was happening in each other’s lives.  While they were sitting talking, they were joined by Margaret Hall, the daughter of the house.  Nicol’s friend then left to carry out her chores, leaving Nicol and Margaret in each other’s company.  As they talked, Nicol found that not only was Margaret attractive, but she was easy company to keep, young, impressionable, and already bit infatuated with him.  He decided that it may be fun to try and seduce her.  This little plan was helped along by Margaret finding him more permanent lodgings with a friend of her family.  She then became a regular visitor and spent much time with him.

 

On the 5 September 1719, after knowing each other for just three weeks, Nicol and Margaret were married.  Nicol’s plan to seduce Margaret had worked, but unfortunately for him her father had found out and demanded for the sake of his daughter’s honour that they marry.  So, marry they did.  Now, Nicol could have been happy with his lot, as not only did he now have a young and attractive wife, he had also married the daughter of a wealthy merchant.  And maybe for the first few weeks Nicol was happy, but he soon grew bored of Margaret and with his boredom grew a resentment of her.  He began to blame her for trapping him in a marriage he did not want and saw her as some floozy who had seduced him.  He was one of those weak men who always blames others for their misfortunes, rather than admitting to any mistakes they may have made.  Who convince themselves that they have been wronged rather than seeing the faults in any of their own actions.  So, after being married for a couple of months Nicol decided to leave his wife and travel out of Scotland to seek work as a surgeon.

 

Nicol left Margaret at her father’s house on Castle Hill, where they had been living together, and made his way back to his mother’s.  There he gave her a story about wanting to travel abroad to better his career as a surgeon and asked her for the money to do so.  It would appear that Nicol did not let his mother know anything of his marriage to Margaret when discussing his plans for a life abroad.  Indeed, his mother seems to have known nothing of his marriage until many months later.  Nicol’s plans for his future did not go down well with his mother, who was worried that it exposed her son to a dangerous life in foreign lands.  Given this she persuaded him not to pursue this idea any further.

 

Disillusioned and angry and feeling that his mother had thwarted his plans, Nicol returned to Edinburgh a few days later.  He did not, however, inform Margaret of his return and rather than returning to her father’s house, he lodged in the rooms of a friend.  While back in Edinburgh Nicol met up with James Campbell of Burnbank, or Bankie to his friends, an acquaintance with whom he had some business transactions.  Bankie was the Storekeeper at Edinburgh Castle and was by all accounts a devious and cunning individual and as corrupt as they come.  Nicol told Bankie of his woes and after listening to him, Bankie said that he could help…for a sum of money of course.  He told Nicol that for the sum of £50, he would arrange for Margaret’s name to be so besmirched that Nicol would have no problem in being granted a divorce from her.  Over a few ales at a nearby tavern they then drew up an agreement in which it was stated that Nicol would pay Bankie the money on him producing ‘…two legal depositions, or affidavits of two witnesses, of the whorish practices of Margaret Hall…’ 

 

Over the next few days in taverns around Edinburgh, Nicol and Bankie met up to discuss their plot against Margaret.  Bankie then came up with the idea that Nicol would take up rooms in a nearby tavern and they would both meet up with Margaret for a drink there.  They would then drug her by lacing her drink with liquid laudanum so that she would fall asleep.  Once asleep they would undress her and put her to bed, then a friend of Bankie’s, John McGregory, would lie naked in the bed with her.  Two other friends of Bankie, James Muschet (a distant relative of Nicol’s) and his wife Grissel Bell would be called from a nearby tavern to witness this.  They would then provide the evidence for the claims of adultery against Margaret.

 

Nicol and Bankie looked around for a suitable place in which to carry out their plot and soon found rooms in one of the many taverns in Edinburgh.  A few days later they invited Margaret around for a drink.  By this time Nicol had told another of his friends, Alexander Pennecuik, about the plot and had persuaded him to help.  So, Margaret came round to the tavern and Nicol made his excuses to her for his previous behaviour and entertained her while Bankie and Pennecuik provided her with drinks they had spiked.  Margaret became sleepy after a while but did not pass out.  Getting bored of waiting, Nicol took her up to bed and lay with her for a while until she fell asleep. He then jumped out of bed and left the room while McGregory, who had been waiting in the wings, stripped naked and jumped in.  The witnesses were then called in to view the scene and McGregory got out of the bed and left.

 

While Margaret slept, Nicol and his co-conspirators left the tavern.  Nicol went to his friend Pennecuik’s rooms in the Canongate.  There he wrote a letter to Margaret telling her that he had left her because of her adulterous behaviour, was on his way to London and she would never see him again.  He had the letter delivered to her and stayed hidden with Pennecuik for the next two weeks.  Nicol appears to have believed that his letter would put Margaret into such a state of despair that she would jump into bed with the first man going and he would then have plenty of evidence of her adultery.  However, on receiving the letter Margaret’s first thoughts were that she must go to see Nicol’s mother to plead her case and let her know that she was innocent of the accusations made against her.  Before leaving Edinburgh for the journey to Boghall, Margaret bumped into Bankie and told him of her plans.  He tried to persuade her not to go and told her he would trace Nicol for her, but she left later that day anyway.  Worried that she would scupper his plans and win an ally in Nicol’s mother, Bankie gave false evidence to a Justice that Margaret was suspected of theft and obtained a warrant for her arrest.  He and an associate then set of in pursuit of her and caught up with her in Linlithgow.  There they arranged for her to be arrested by a local Constable.  After she was arrested Bankie turned up and pretended to be a concerned friend who had heard of her trouble.  He told her that he had arranged for her to be bailed, but she would have to come back to Edinburgh with him for this to be done.  In Edinburgh Bankie arranged and paid for accommodation for her under the pretence of looking after her while he sorted out her bail.  In reality though it was to keep her away from friends and family, who may become suspicious of him if she told them what had happened.  After a couple of days in Edinburgh, Margaret decided once again to leave.  She hired a horse and discreetly left, travelling down to Boghall before Bankie was aware she had gone.  Bankie, still plotting away as ever, then wrote her a long letter promising her that if she returned to Edinburgh, he would plead her case with Nicol and let him know that everything had been a misunderstanding.  Margaret, still in love with Nicol and believing that her marriage to him could still be salvaged, returned.

 

Realising that Margaret was not going to do them the favour of finding herself another man, Nicol and Bankie took the evidence they had manufactured against her to a lawyer they were friendly with.  He looked through what they had and advised them that unless they could show that McGregory and Margaret knew each other and had been seen several times in each other’s company, they had no case.  Disappointed with this outcome they made their way to a nearby tavern to plot what to do next.  There they came up with the great idea that Bankie would invite James Muschet, his wife Grissel Bell, Margaret and McGregory to his rooms for drinks.  If this were done for several days, Margaret would have then been seen in McGregory’s company enough times for them to proceed with their case against her.   Nicol would, of course, pay McGregory, Muschet and Bell to attend and would also pay for their drinks.   The plot was put into action, but very quickly Nicol grew disillusioned with it, as it seemed he was just paying out a lot of money for Bankie and his associates to get drunk.  So, he called it all off and gave up on the idea of divorce.

 

Shortly after this Bankie and Nicol came up with another idea.  Murder.  They would poison Margaret.  She had happily taken the drinks spiked with Laudanum, so why not put poison in her drink and be done with her for good?  They decided that James Muschet would be the man to do it and that Nicol would pay him for poisoning her and would also provide the poison required.  So, James Muschet was provided with a paper of sugar and poison and some brandy.  He took this to Margaret and drank with her, adding the poisoned sugar to her drink.  However, rather than killing her, the poison made Margaret violently ill and vomit for several days, but then she recovered. 

 

Bankie, not disheartened by this told Nicol that they should just keep on poisoning her, as it would weaken her and eventually kill her.  Nicol agreed with this, and they decided that they would change from the poison they had been using and instead use corrosive mercury.  To keep Margaret from becoming suspicious this was added to nutmeg in a nutmeg grater, as Margaret would grate this herself into her ale.  Again, this did not work and though it made Margaret ill she stubbornly didn’t die.  However, it was noticed that the poison had a devastating effect on the nutmeg grinder, which was discoloured and looked like it had been burnt.  It was discreetly removed and given to Alexander Pennecuik to dispose of.  Nicol, who had not seen Margaret since he had supposedly left for London, then decided to pay her a visit, and help things along.  He went to Margaret’s lodgings and on the pretence of making amends, spent time with her, drank with her and provided her with drinks.  The drinks were of course poisoned with corrosive mercury.  James Muschet, who was there too, poisoned a few of her drinks as well.  Apart from making her ill, the poison had no other effect.  Nicol decided that this plot was going nowhere, and it was dropped

 

In one of the many taverns in Edinburgh the plotters met again to discuss their plans on how to get rid of Margaret.  Bankie suggested that James Muschet could invite her to Leith, get her drunk and then drown her in a pond on the way home.  James did not like this idea, as he felt it would be too obviously a murder and that he would end up being hanged for it if they went ahead.  Grissel suggested that she and James ride out with Margaret and that the saddle on her horse could be loosened so that it would throw her.  If they arranged this near to Kirkliston Water, she would be drowned, and it would look like an accident.  It was decided that there were too many difficulties in arranging this.  The plan they eventually settled on was that Grissel would invite Margaret to her and James’ rooms in Dickson’s Close and she would entertain her and keep her there until late in the night.  James meanwhile would hide out in the close and strike Margaret over the head with a hammer when she left to make her way home.  He would then arrange her body, so it looked like she had fallen in the dark and struck her head.  Did this plot succeed?  Of course not.  Several attempts were made.  Margaret went to visit Grissel and stayed late, but every time she left there were people around in the street, so James was unable to strike her.  The plan then had to be put on hold for a week, as James had developed severe toothache from standing out in the cold waiting for Margaret to leave.  Then when he was better, their landlord grew annoyed by Margaret staying late all the time and told James and Grissel she was not welcome there anymore.

 

Nicol was now completely fed up with the plots and felt he had been duped by Bankie, James and Grissel.  He wondered if they had ever had any intention of carrying through with any of the plots or if they were just stringing him along to get money out of him.  He realised that if he wanted to be rid of Margaret, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

 

On the morning of Monday 17 October 1720 Nicol borrowed his landlady’s knife and then spent some time in the Canongate Kirk listening to sermons.  On leaving the kirk he made his way to Barnaby Lloyds, a nearby tavern.  There he met James Muschet and again they hatched a plot to kill Margaret.  This time it was agreed that James would hide in a nearby close, and that Nicol would leave the tavern with Margaret, lead her down the close and James would strike.  Margaret was then sent for, and she arrived and spent time drinking with the two men.  James then left to go and take his place in the close and wait for them.  Once he had left Nicol realised that it was unlikely that James would carry through with this latest plot and he was overtaken with a desire to kill Margaret himself, as that way he could get it over and done with.  He asked her to walk with him to Duddingston and she agreed to accompany him there.  As they walked, Margaret became increasingly aware of Nicol’s silence and his strange mood.  Tired and fed up with the way he treated her and never being quite sure of his feelings towards her, she asked if he would rather she just left him to his thoughts and went home.  Nicol grew angry with her, and he told her that if she left him and returned home, he would have nothing more to do with her.  Margaret then carried on walking with him.  They reached Duke’s Walk in Holyrood Park and there Margaret questioned the route they were taking.  Nicol told her they were taking a different route to Duddingston, then made as if he was going to embrace her and put his knife to her throat.  Margaret cried out to him – ‘And was that your design in bringing me here, to cut my throat?’  Nicol then accused her of being a whore and cheating on him.  Margaret, who was innocent of all the accusations he made, denied them saying she had done nothing wrong other than loving him.  He then made to cut her throat with the knife, but she moved her head defensively and he caught her on the chin.  She then fought with him and tried to grab the knife from him, but he cut through her hand with it.  She cried to him – ‘My love, my love, do not murder me.’  Nicol had no time for her cries for mercy and in his cold rage he grabbed her by the hair, pulled her to the ground and cut her throat several times with the knife.  As Margaret lay on the ground dying, she said to him - ‘Oh man!  It is done now, you need not give me more.’  Nicol then walked away from her, but suddenly fearing she that might recover from the wounds he had inflicted he walked back to where she lay and ‘cut her throat almost through, and so left her.’  He then fled the scene and went to James Muschet’s rooms where he told James and Grissel what he had done.

 

The next morning Margaret’s body was found and by her body was the sleeve of a man with the letter N embroidered in green silk on it.  The body was identified later that day as being that of Margaret Hall and it was quickly realised that the sleeve must belong to her husband Nicol.  Grissel, in the meantime, had come to the conclusion that it may be best for her and James to get their side of the story out before Nicol was arrested, so she went to the authorities and told them what she knew of the murder and of Nicol’s confession to her.  She and James then gave ‘King’s evidence’ against Nicol and in return were spared from any prosecution.  A few days later Nicol was arrested and confessed to the murder.  In prison as he awaited trial, Nicol received a letter from his mother, Jean Mushet.  In this she told him how ashamed she was of him and of the terrible acts he had committed.  She advised him to put aside any thoughts of escaping justice and that he should accept his guilt and the sentence handed to him by the court.  He should repent, as without evidence of true sorrow and repentance for his crimes, his soul was heading to a ‘burning lake of fire and brimstone’.

 

On 5 December 1720 Nicol appeared at court in Edinburgh, where he acknowledged that he had murdered his wife and was then found guilty of her murder.  He appeared again at court on 8 December 1720 for sentencing and was sentenced to death.  The Judge ordered that he be taken to the Grassmarket on 6 January 1721 and there, between the hours of two and four in the afternoon, be hanged until dead.  Given the heinous nature of his crime and the innocence of the victim, his body was then to be hung in chains on the Gallow Lee, between Edinburgh and Leith.

 

While in prison awaiting execution, Nicol wrote an account of his life and the events leading up to the murder of Margaret.  He tried to excuse many of his actions and stated he had been led astray by Bankie, James Muschet and Grissel Bell.  He also denied rumours that he was a drunk, had attempted suicide on various occasions and had been having an affair with his landlady, Mrs Macadam.  Rumours that we can imagine were all probably true.  The day before he was to be executed Nicol received a letter from Alexander Pennecuik.  In this letter Pennecuik asked that his name be cleared, and that Nicol should admit to the lies he had told about his, Pennecuik’s, involvement in the plot against Margaret.  Nicol replied that everything he had said to the authorities about Pennecuik was true and that he knew this.

 

On the afternoon of 6 January 1721 Nicol was taken from his cell at the Tolbooth by the City Guard and travelled the short distance down to the Grassmarket, where he no doubt drank a few ales and brandies before being led to the gallows.  There, in front of the crowd gathered to see the monster who had so cruelly and brutally murdered his young wife, he was hanged.  His body was then cut down and wrapped in chains and taken to the Gallow Lee.  There it was hung up for all to see, to be pecked by birds and to decay and crumble.  And that was the fate of Nicol Muschet, a drunk, a fool and a cruel, violent man who married in haste and then, regretting the marriage, brutally murdered his wife.

 

There is a rather macabre tale about Nicol Muschet’s body as it was rotting in its chains.  A butcher called Nicol Brown was drinking in a tavern one night with a group of his fellow butchers.  As the drink flowed, they got into a dispute about how long meat could be kept before it was cooked and eaten.  As more drink flowed, they began to place bets and Brown bet them a guinea that he could eat a pound of the oldest, most rotten meat they could find.  The bet was taken and some of the group went off to find the most disgusting hunk of meat they could.  As they walked through the town discussing where to get this foul flesh from, one of them remembered that Nicol Muschet was hanging in chains at Gallow Lee.  So, they procured a ladder and some other implements and went down to the gallows.  There they cut a hunk of flesh from his rotting corpse and took it back to present to Brown.  Brown, who was not one to lose a bet, cooked the flesh like he was cooking a beefsteak and then with the aid of much ale and whisky he ate it all and won his guinea. 

 

So, what of Bankie’s fate?  Well, Bankie, unlike James Muschet and Grissel Bell, did not escape justice.  He appeared in court in March 1721 charged with the various attempts made on Margaret Hall’s life.  He was found guilty and was banished for life to ‘His Majesty’s Plantations in America.

 

The local populace of the Abbeyhill area of Edinburgh, where the murder of Margaret had taken place, were so shocked by what had happened that they built a cairn to mark their horror and to remember her.  The original Muschet’s Cairn stood a short distance to the west of where the present cairn now stands.  It was moved in 1823 when a footpath was constructed through the park.

 

I left a Skulferatu at the cairn.

 

Skulferatu #40 - a photo of a Skulferatu, small ceramic skull, behind help with Muschet's Cairn on Duke's walk, Holyrood Park in the background.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Skulferatu #40

 

A photo of a Skulferatu, a small ceramic skull amongst the rocks of Muschet’s Cairn, Holyrood Park, Edinburgh.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project
Skulferatu #40 amongst rocks of Muschet’s Cairn

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #40 by Muschet's or Muschat's Cairn, Holyrood Park, Edinburgh
Map showing location of Skulferatu #40

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.954470

Longitude -3.158299

 

I used the following sources for the tale of Muschet’s Cairn –

 

The Confession, & c. of Nicol Muschet, of Boghall, who was executed in the Grassmarket, January 1721 for the Murder of his Wife, in the Duke’s Walk, near Edinburgh.

Printed for Oliver and Boyd; Wm. Turnbull, Glasgow; and Law & Whittaker, London. 

1818

 

Criminal Trials illustrative of the tale entitled The Heart of Midlothian, Published from the Original Record

Edited by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharp

Edinburgh

1818

 

Nothing but Murder

By William Roughead

Sheridan House

New York

1946

 

Book of Scottish Story

Traditions of the Old Tolbooth of Edinburgh

By Robert Chambers

1896

Available at –

Book of Scottish Story - Historical, Humorous, Legendary, Imaginative (electricscotland.com)


Article and photographs are copyright of © Kevin Nosferatu, unless otherwise specified.


Tuesday 3 August 2021

Skulferatu #39 - The Monk's Cave, Charles Hill, Aberdour, Fife

 

To reach Charles Hill in Aberdour one has to go a bit off the beaten track and also endure the horror of having to walk through part of a golf course.  However, apart from that the walk is quite enjoyable with some spectacular views over the Forth to Inchcolm Island.  So, on a busy summer’s day I set off from Aberdour Railway Station and off along the High Street on a pavement so narrow that it became a bit of a game of dodging other pedestrians and the cars that were whizzing by.  Luckily, I made it without any misfortune befalling me, and turned down onto Beech Avenue.  I followed this down to a narrow path that led through a field of cows who were being guarded by a very large black bull.  Thankfully, there were a couple of fences between us, as I wouldn’t have fancied my chances if he’d taken a dislike to me.   I then followed a path that ran around the fence of Braefoot Terminal and led to the staff car park there.  At the back of that was another path that led into the far end of Aberdour Golf Course and down to a gate with a large sign on it stating – Lambs and Ewes, Keep Out.  I assume the sign was for any passing sheep and a warning for them to keep out, as the land behind is quite obviously not used or suitable for pasture or farming.  So, I climbed the gate and wandered on in. 

 

Following an overgrown path, I walked round to the concrete shells of various WWII buildings.  These were all long abandoned and appeared to have gained a new use as drinking dens, given the amount of beer bottles and spirit bottles lying around.  Inside some of the buildings the concrete floors were carpeted in broken glass that crunched underfoot.  Beer cans lay scattered around along with empty cigarette packets and sandwich containers, that were crushed and mouldering in the damp.  There was very little left in the buildings from their time of use other than a few rusting iron bars on the walls.  Outside, on the rocky beach below lay various metal objects, their identity and use hidden under decades of rust. 

 

Abandoned concrete WWII buildings on Charles Hill, Aberdour with the blue waters of the Forth in the distance.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Abandoned WWII buildings on Charles Hill

 

Abandoned concrete WWII Pillboxes on Charles Hill, Aberdour.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Abandoned WWII Pillboxes

 

Abandoned concrete WWII Pillbox with graffiti on wall of a man's face in side profile.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Abandoned WWII Pillbox with graffiti on wall

 

Defensive concrete blocks on beach with abandoned concrete WWII building in background on Charles Hill, Aberdour.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Defensive concrete blocks on beach with abandoned WWII building in background

 

After wandering around these buildings, I got back onto the path and made my way round to the Monk’s Cave.  The path takes you so that you come out on top of what appears to be the cliff edge, with a view over to Inchcolm Island in front of you and Braefoot Terminal to the side.  However, you are actually standing on top of the Monk’s Cave in an area where there was once a building that would have housed the travellers waiting to go over to the abbey on Inchcolm Island.  There is a steep path at the side that then takes you down and to the entrance of the Monk’s Cave. 

 

The Monk’s Cave is not actually a cave at all, but rather it is the lower storey of a building which was probably a shelter for those crossing to Inchcolm and also a warehouse for goods being transported to the monastery on the island.  The building was built into the side of the cliff on which it stands, with part of the cliff being excavated for its construction.  The walls and entrance to the remains of this building are believed to date from the late 15th Century. 

 

The Monk’s Cave, a small stone building perched above a rock face on Charles Hill, Aberdour.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Monk’s Cave

 

The Monk’s Cave, a small stone building perched above a rock face on Charles Hill, Aberdour.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Rocks leading up to the Monk’s Cave

 

A closer view of the small stone building that is the Monk’s Cave on Charles Hill in Aberdour.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
View of the Monk’s Cave

 

The Monk’s Cave entrance with the industrial, metal structure of Braefoot Terminal in the background.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Monk’s Cave entrance with Braefoot Terminal in the background

 

Inside the cave it was damp, and the earthen floor was pitted with regular circles from what I assume must be the dripping of water from above when it rains.  So, its not much of a shelter anymore.  The old stone walls are damp to the touch and ferns grow out from the cracks and pits.  As I wandered around, clouds of midges rose from the damp ground, these were not however the vicious Highland midges that can drive a man to madness from the pain and itch of their gnawing and biting at his flesh, but rather little Lowland midges that annoy and irritate, that get up your nose and into your mouth as you breathe.  So, given the damp and the clouds of annoying insects, I can’t really imagine that any weary traveller would want to spend the night here now.

 

A photo of Inchcolm Abbey, a ruined church sitting on Inchcolm Island, with the Forth and the buildings of Edinburgh in the background.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Inchcolm Abbey

 

Looking out from the Monk’s Cave - a photo from inside the cave looking out through the darkness of the building to the doorway and the sea and sky out beyond.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Looking out from the Monk’s Cave

 

Inside the Monk’s Cave, Aberdour - a photo of the man made stone structure of the cave.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Inside the Monk’s Cave, Aberdour

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in a gap in the walls of the Monk’s Cave.

 

Skulferatu #39 - a photo of a Skulferatu, small ceramic skull, being held with the Monk's Cave in the background.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #39

 

Skulferatu #39 in gap in wall inside the Monk’s Cave with ferns growing out the side of the wall.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #39 in gap in wall inside the Monk’s Cave

 

A close up of Skulferatu #39 in gap in wall inside the Monk’s Cave with ferns growing out the side of the wall.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #39 in gap in wall inside the Monk’s Cave

 

Map showing the location of Skulferatu #39 in the Monk's Cave, Charles Hill, Aberdour.
Map showing the location of Skulferatu #39

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 56.038981

Longitude -3.307354

 

I used the following sources for information on the Monk’s Cave –

 

The Royal Commission on Ancient and Historical Monuments & Constructions of Scotland, Eleventh Report with Inventory of Monuments and Constructions in the Counties of Fife, Kinross, and Clackmannan (p99-100)

EDINBURGH

1933 (Reprinted 1935)

 

Canmore

Canmore - Charles Hill, Monks' Cave

 

 

Article and photographs are copyright of © Kevin Nosferatu, unless otherwise specified.