Skulferatu #21 - Stink Vent, St Mark's Park, Water of Leith, Edinburgh

On a day of sunshine and snowstorms I went for a walk along the Water of Leith and the railway paths that run around it.  On my way back I passed through St Mark’s Park and along the path under the old railway there.  This brought me out into a rather picturesque area near a weir and what appears to be an old, industrial era chimney standing on its own.

 

Tunnel from pathway at St Mark’s Park leading to Water of Leith

 

The Water of Leith

Not a chimney, but a stink vent

This chimney is not at what it first seems.  Look around it.  There are no openings at the bottom where one would expect to see space for a fire to burn or where pipes were once connected.  That is because this chimney is not in fact a chimney.  It is a sewage vent or a stink vent.  It is part of the 1864 interceptor sewer that was built to connect to earlier sewage systems in Edinburgh and carry raw sewage out into the River Forth.  It carried on doing this until the 1970s when the Seafield Waste Water Treatment Works was built.

 

The stink vent was an important part of the sewage system as it acted as a safety valve and released the noxious and inflammable sewer gases that would build up in the system.  It was built nice and high so that the wind would carry off any obnoxious smells.

The stink vent

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in a tree not far from the stink vent and with a nice view of the Water of Leith.

 

Skulferatu #21

 

Skulferatu #21 in tree near to stink vent and Water of Leith

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #21

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

Latitude 55.968462

Longitude -3.189978

Skulferatu #20 - Greyfriars Kirkyard, Candlemaker Row, Edinburgh

 

Another day and another graveyard.  Greyfriars Kirkyard is probably the most famous graveyard in Edinburgh.  This was once due to the enduring story of Greyfriars Bobby, the little dog who sat on his master’s grave for years after he had died.  Now it is the Harry Potter franchise that attracts visitor after visitor to this wonderfully gothic place.

 

Detail of Gravestone at Greyfriars Kirkyard

 

Gravestone at Greyfriars Kirkyard

 

I used to work near to Greyfriars and at lunchtimes would often wander around the graveyard to clear my head.  Many of the graves and tombs here are steeped in the history of Edinburgh, and page after page could, and has, been written about their occupants.  There is the tomb of George ‘Bloody’ Mackenzie, the Lord Advocate who in the late 17^th Century was responsible for the prosecution and execution of many of the Covenanters.  There is the grave of Captain John Porteous, who was lynched by an angry mob after ordering his men in the City Guard to shoot into a crowd of townsfolk rioting after a public hanging.  Then there is the grave of William McGonagall, the poet who wrote some of the worst poetry known to man.  Here is a little extract from his best known work, ‘The Tay Bridge Disaster’ -

 

‘…Twas about seven o’clock at night,

And the wind it blew with all its might,

And the rain came pouring down,

And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,

And the Demon of the air seem’d to say –

I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay…’

 

Great stuff! 

 

However, the gravestone that drew my attention on one of my previous wanderings here was a simple and unadorned one for another poet and author, Franz Hedrich.  I had never heard of him, so did a little research and found that in the 1880s he was involved in a scandal that shocked the literary world.  His story is as follows…

 

Grave of Franz Hedrich

 

Franz Hedrich was born in Bohemia (present day Czech Republic) in 1823.  As an aspiring poet and author in his youth, he moved in various literary circles and in the 1840s became a close friend of the poet and author Alfred Meissner.   Hedrich also dabbled in politics and was at one point elected to the Frankfurt National Assembly as the leader of one of the parties on the extreme left.  He was then arrested and exiled for his political views.

 

In the 1850s Hedrich moved to Munich and would often spend his summers with Meissner.  During this time, according to Hedrich, Meissner came to rely on him to review and rewrite much of his new work and this eventually culminated in Hedrich writing several of Meissner’s novels for him, as his ghost-writer.  It would, however, appear that Hedrich was unhappy with this as Meissner had promised that the work would appear in their joint names.  He also felt that Meissner was pocketing most of the money and ‘awarding him only a trifle.’

 

In 1871, in Switzerland, Hedrich married Janet Barron of Edinburgh.  He then lived with her in Switzerland, France and in Scotland.  Janet appears to have been quite wealthy, having inherited a large amount of money after the death of her parents.  Whether this played any part in Hedrich falling for her we will never know, however being a man who enjoyed the finer things in life he quickly squandered much of her fortune.  Running low on money, he then began to blackmail Meissner threatening to let the world know that he had written the novels.  It would seem that through this he obtained substantial sums of money from Meissner for several years.  Then in 1885, Meissner could take no more and made a suicide attempt by slashing his own throat.  He survived this but died shortly afterwards of sepsis.  On his death bed he told his brother in law, Robert Byr, that Hedrich ‘was hunting me like a tiger.  He claimed the fortune of my children.  He was my evil genius during all my life, and I was his prisoner, so that nothing but death remains for me to escape his bondage.’

 

A few years after Meissner’s death, a collection of his works was published and included various novels that Hedrich had written.  This seems to have annoyed Hedrich and resulted in him writing a pamphlet that was then published by the Berlin firm O. Janke.  The same firm who had published Meissner’s work.  In this pamphlet Hedrich claimed authorship of most of Meissner’s novels and stated that for almost thirty years Meissner had been claiming to be the author of books that he, Hedrich, had written.  To provide proof of his claims he included copies of letters from Meissner and these showed beyond doubt that Hedrich had indeed written several novels attributed to Meissner.  Hedrich also pointed out that in several of the novels he had used a simple type of cryptogram to encode the words ‘Autor Hedrich’ to show he was the author of the work.

 

Robert Byr, Meissner’s brother in law, then made a reply to Hedrich’s accusations.  He stated that Meissner had claimed authorship and tried to sell a single novel written by Hedrich. This deed had caused him such remorse that he had then committed suicide.  Byr also claimed that Hedrich was only a collaborator in some of Meissner’s novels.  The two men had arranged this collaboration as Meissner’s name was well known, and novels appearing under his name would command a greater price than those appearing under Hedrich’s.

 

On viewing the evidence that Hedrich produced, it was accepted by the literary world that he had indeed written several of the novels appearing under Meissner’s name, and had collaborated on others.  However, it was also found that he had overstated his case and claimed authorship of some novels that were purely Meissner’s work.  

 

Hedrich did not fare well in this scandal.  He was seen by many as being dishonourable, and too ready to denounce someone who had been his close friend in order to make money.  A leading literary magazine of the time wrote of him that - ‘Hedrich had dragged Meissner in the mire…but he has degraded himself beneath the notice of respectable men in doing it.’

 

Hedrich spent his later years living in the West End of Edinburgh with his wife.  He died on 31 October 1895.

 

Well, back to my walk around Greyfriars on what was a miserable and cold February day.  A day so grey that the sun seemed to have lost its way.  A day so damp that even the stone of the tombs around me seemed to ooze out dark, cold water.  A perfect day for a walk around the graveyard, as there was no-one else stupid enough to come out in this weather.  A perfect day for being unobserved in leaving a Skulferatu in a tree just across from the grave of Franz Hedrich.

 

Skulferatu #20

 

Skulferatu #20 in tree at Greyfriars Kirkyard

 

Skulferatu #20 in tree at Greyfriars Kirkyard

  

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #20

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

Latitude 55.946205

Longitude -3.192669

 

I used the following sources for information on the Hedrich & Meissner scandal –

 

Renfrewshire Independent (Births, Marriages and Deaths)

Published 14 January 1871

 

The Scotsman (Alfred Meissner and Franz Hedrich)

Published 22 November 1889

 

The New York Times (A Literary Scandal)

Published 18 December 1889

 

The Publisher’s Weekly (Page 27)

New York

Published 12 July 1890.

 

Wikipedia articles on Franz Hedrich & Alfred Meissner

Skulferatu #19 - St Andrew's Kirk, Kirk Ports, North Berwick

 

St Andrew’s Kirk, Kirk Ports, North Berwick

 

Just off North Berwick High Street stands the rather quaint ruin of St Andrew’s Kirk.  This church was built in the 17^th Century and opened on 5 June 1664.  It was built to replace St Andrew’s Old Kirk, which stood near to the sea and had been so severely damaged by a storm that it had to be abandoned.  The ruins of the Old Kirk lie near to the Scottish Seabird Centre.   

 

With the arrival of the railway in North Berwick in 1850, the town’s population grew substantially.  By 1873 the congregation was too large for St Andrew’s Kirk and in 1882 a new and larger church opened nearby. 

 

On 3 June 1883, the last service was held in St Andrew’s Kirk and shortly after this it was partly dismantled, with various fixtures and fittings being auctioned off.  However, it was decided by the church authorities to ‘allow the walls of the church to stand in order to form a picturesque ruin…’

 

Interior of the ruins of St Andrew’s Kirk

A view of the graveyard at Kirk Ports and the ruins of St Andrew’s Kirk

Old Gravestone at Kirk Ports Graveyard

 

Carved skull on one of the old graves

 

I placed the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk around North Berwick in a gap in the wall at the church.

 

Skulferatu #19

 

Skulferatu #19 in wall at St Andrew’s Kirk

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #19

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

Latitude 56.057800

Longitude -2.718484

Skulferatu #17 - New Calton Burial Ground, Edinburgh

 

I think I’ve previously mentioned that I do love a good walk around a graveyard, especially a graveyard with a bit of character.  New Calton Burial Ground is just such a graveyard.  Built on the slope of a hill with tiered graves and a watchtower overlooking it all, this graveyard has some spectacular views over Edinburgh.  So, what better place to go on a grey, dull day to take in some of Edinburgh’s unique scenery while contemplating one’s own mortality? 

 

Graves at New Calton Burial Ground, overlooked by the Watchtower

 

A view of the Watchtower

 

Near the main entrance stands the Watchtower.  This was built so that in 1820, when the cemetery opened, guard could be kept against graverobbers, or resurrectionists as they were known.  Recently buried corpses were regularly stolen from their graves to feed the need for bodies at Edinburgh’s medical schools.  The only bodies legally available to them at that time were those of executed criminals, and there just weren’t enough of those to go round.  So, a trade in illegally acquired bodies developed.  Fearing that their relatives, or indeed their own bodies when they died, may end up on the dissection table, people went to extraordinary lengths to prevent this.  These included extra deep burial, iron cages built over the grave and guards watching over the graveyard. 

 

The Watchtower was later used as a house and was occupied as such until around 1955.  Despite it being tiny, at one time it was occupied by a family of ten.  The building is now derelict and in a state of disrepair.  It is on the Buildings at Risk Register.

 

A view over New Calton Burial Ground

 

View from New Calton Burial Ground over Edinburgh to Arthur’s Seat

 

There are several notable people buried in the graveyard, such as a couple of the Lighthouse Stevensons and William Dick, the founder of the Dick Vet College in Edinburgh.  Another of the worthies whose bones lie mouldering here is the poet William Knox.  Little known nowadays, he wrote one of Abraham Lincoln’s favourite poems – Mortality.  Knox, who was seemingly related to the Presbyterian killjoy preacher John Knox, was quite unlike his austere relative and led a rather intemperate life.  He was seemingly a very jovial and much liked bloke, with many friends.  However, he was a heavy drinker who like many alcoholics found it difficult to manage his money and his day to day life.  His drinking destroyed his health and he died of a ‘paralytic stroke’ at the age of 36 on 12 November 1825.    

 

Gravestone of William Knox

 

For your delectation here is Knox’s poem Mortality in full.  It’s a lovely piece of over the top morbidity – perfect for an old Goth like me.  Enjoy –

 

MORTALITY

 

O why should the spirit of mortal be proud!
Like a fast flitting meteor, a fast flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave –
He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around and together be laid;
As the young and the old, and the low and the high,
Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.

The child that a mother attended and loved,
The mother that infant’s affection that proved,
The husband that mother and infant that blest,
Each – all are away to their dwelling of rest.

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure – her triumphs are by:
And the memory of those that beloved her and praised,
And alike from the minds of the living erased.

The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman who climbed with his goats to the steep,
The beggar that wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The saint that enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner that dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

So the multitude goes – like the flower and the weed
That wither away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes – even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that hath often been told.

For we are the same things that our fathers have been,
We see the same sights that our fathers have seen,
We drink the same stream, and we feel the same sun,
And we run the same course that our fathers have run.

The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think,
From the death we are shrinking from they too would shrink,
To the life we are clinging to, they too would cling –
But it speeds from the earth like a bird on the wing.

They loved – but their story we cannot unfold;
They scorned – but the heart of the haughty is cold;
They grieved – but no wail from their slumbers may come;
They joyed – but the voice of their gladness is dumb.

They died – ay, they died! and we, things that are now,
Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
Who make in their dwellings a transient abode,
Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea, hope and despondence, and pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together like sunshine and rain:
And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other like surge upon surge.

‘Tis the twink of an eye, ’tis the draught of a breath,
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud –
O why should the spirit of mortal be proud!

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in a hollow in a tree near the top of the graveyard.

 

Skulferatu #17

 

Skulferatu #17 in tree hollow at New Calton Burial Ground

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are:

 

Latitude 55.953664

Longitude -3.177293

 

Skulferatu #16 - Cammo Tower, Cammo Estate, Edinburgh

 

Lying on the outskirts of Edinburgh, as you head North towards South Queensferry and Fife, sits Cammo Estate.  This was once a private estate, but was bequeathed to the National Trust and then given to Edinburgh Council.  It is now maintained by the council as a wilderness park.

 

Cammo House circa 1900

 

The remains of Cammo House

 

In the estate there are the remains of Cammo House.  This was built in 1693 for John Menzies and at that time had fourteen bedrooms, four public rooms, a smoking room, a billiards room, bathrooms, a kitchen, a wash-house, a laundry, cellars, larders, pantries and servants' accommodation.  A surrounding park and landscaped garden were then laid out around the house. 

 

The house went through several owners before being bought by the Clark family.  In 1909 David Bennet Clark divorced his wife Margaret Maitland-Tennent and she and her son Percival kept the house.  However, shortly after the divorce Margaret dismissed the staff and moved into a caravan with her son.  The house was left, still full of valuable paintings and antiques.  Over the years it was completely neglected and was broken into on numerous occasions.  During the break-ins it was vandalised and damaged, with various valuables also being stolen.  In 1955 Margaret died and the house was left to Percival.  He lived as a recluse with a pack of around thirty dogs, which were given a free run of the house.  On his death in 1975, the house and the estate were left to the National Trust.  In 1977 most of the house was destroyed by fire and the remains were later pulled down, leaving only the door frame and lower wall.  In 1980 the house and the estate were given to Edinburgh Council by the National Trust.

 

Cammo House is thought to have been the inspiration for ‘The House of Shaws’ in Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Kidnapped.

 

On the estate there is also the very picturesque Cammo Tower.  This is a 19^th Century Water Tower built to supply water to Cammo House.

 

A view of Cammo Tower

Cammo Tower

A view of Cammo Tower

 

On my wanders around the estate, I left a Skulferatu in the wall of Cammo Tower with a view of the nearby hill.

 

Skulferatu #16

 

Skulferatu #16 in wall of Cammo Tower

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are:

 

Latitude 55.954275

Longitude -3.321390

 

Skulferatu #15, St Baldred's Cradle, Peffer Sands, East Lothian

 

The thing I love about working in East Lothian is that there are so many beautiful places nearby to go for a lunchtime walk.  My walk today was along Peffer Sands, which is a great big sandy beach with lots of sand dunes.  It is a quiet and isolated spot with amazing views over the Forth and down to the Bass Rock.   

 

View down Peffer Sands to the Bass Rock

 

I walked along the beach and up onto the rocky outcrop at the southern end of the beach.  This area is known as St Baldred’s Cradle. 

View from St Baldred’s Cradle

 

View over rocks at St Baldred’s Cradle

 

Here St Baldred is believed to have spent some years in a remote hermitage.  He obviously liked the view if he came here, as it’s still pretty remote and out of the way.  There is supposedly an ancient cairn here, but I’ve never actually seen it.  However, I do find this is often the case with ancient landmarks, unless they are pointed out to me, I just don’t see them.    

 

Today’s Skulferatu was left in a crack in one of the rocky outcrops overlooking the Bass Rock.

 

Skulferatu #15

 

Skulferatu #15 in rocks at St Baldred’s Cradle

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are:

 

Lattitude 56.023742

Longitude -2.584464

 

Skulferatu #11 - Hangman's Crag, Holyrood Park, Edinburgh

I was out for a walk around Holyrood Park, and while there wandered past a spot known as Hangman's Crag.  Leaving the main path, I crossed over a small fence and took a narrow path up to the top of this rocky outcrop. I have walked up here a few times before, but always in the summer when it has been dry.  Though it was steep, it was a relatively easy walk.  Not so in winter.  Everything was slippery and wet and a worked up into a mass of mud from all the thousands of people who have been walking up this path in these Covid ridden times.  Thankfully, on the most treacherous part of the path, there were lots of tree branches to hold onto.  If there hadn’t been, I’d have ended up flat on my arse in the mud.

Hangman's Crag, with Duddingston Kirk in the background

Hangman’s Crag sounds like the name came from the place being a site of execution, but actually it comes rather from the sad tale of one of Edinburgh's much hated and loathed executioners.

 

In the late Seventeenth Century in Edinburgh, one of the city's hangmen was a young man who had come from a wealthy and well-to-do family from Melrose in the Scottish Borders.  On his father's death, he had inherited the estate and a great deal of money.  However, the young man had extravagant tastes and wasted the whole fortune on living the high life.  When not drinking, entertaining and visiting one of the city’s many whorehouses he was gambling away vast amounts of money.  Soon he was broke.  There was no money left.  To survive he had to move to lowly lodgings and sell off his belongings, though he did keep one set of fine clothes.  The young man then had to do what no gentleman should ever have to do, he had to work for a living. So, he took the job as the city hangman.  This was a particularly odious and unpopular job at that time, as many of those sentenced to die were innocent men fallen foul of higher powers or those whose religion was not in keeping with the main orthodoxy.  Even in normal times the city hangman was seen as someone on the fringes of society, on the same level as common criminals and prostitutes.

 

The young man took up this office and performed his duties of execution, flogging and all the other rather unpleasant sentences ordered by the courts.  Now, a man has to be of a certain mentality to carry out these sorts of duties and not be affected or destroyed by the torment he is inflicting.   This young man found escape from the guilt of his actions and from the lowly office he now occupied in life, by donning the one set of fine clothes he had kept and mixing with the gentlefolk of Edinburgh.   He would dress up and mingle with the groups of Edinburgh society who played golf in the evenings at Bruntsfield Links, and for a few hours he could feel he was back in his place in society.  He could switch off from the haunting screams of those whose lives he was paid to end.  Those he was paid to maim or torture or humiliate.

 

One day while out at Bruntsfield Links, the young man was recognised by a group playing golf.  One of their friends had recently been sentenced to death for some minor offence, and they realised that the young man playing golf alongside them was none other than the man who had hanged him.  They shouted at him and pointed out to the others there who he was.  They insulted him, spat at him, threw stones at him and chased him away.  They told him never to come back, that he was a disgrace and lower than even the most common and base criminal who had dangled from his rope.    The young man ran off humiliated and ashamed.  He made his way to the quiet solitude of one of the crags overlooking Duddingston Loch.  There he contemplated his life and what he had become.  Falling into a state of great despair he threw himself off the crag to his death.  His body was then found there the next day.  After this the crag he had thrown himself from was always referred to as the Hangman’s Crag.

View up path to top of Hangman's Crag - with Crow Hill in the background

View from Hangman's Crag over Duddingston Loch

 

Near the top of the crag, I found a hollow in a group of rocks near the cliff edge and there I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me on my walk.

Skulferatu #11

Skulferatu #11 in a hollow between rocks at the crags edge

Google map showing location of Skulferatu #11

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are:

Latitude 55.941027

Longitude -3.154901