|
"What then is taste? a
discerning sense
Of decent and sublime with quick disgust
For things deformed or disarranged or gross."
- Akenside.
1845 - 50
DURING boyhood, one naturally
saw more of our native city than when all the walks were "on the chain," in
the control of nurses and governesses. Many a visit did I pay with my
companions to the Calton Hill, where was the best place near home for
kite-flying. At that time the hill, which is a valuable asset as a place of
beauty and recreation, presented some features which one can only recall
with shame. The upper part of it was frequently occupied as a place for
beating carpets with flails, which sent clouds of insanitary dust over the
neighbouring ground, and into the mouths and nostrils of the children who
came to the hill to play there. On the north slope linen was washed, and the
ground slopped around water-cocks, which should never have been allowed to
disfigure the scene. The washings were hung up on ropes stretched on shabby,
badly set-up poles, disfiguring the view in a manner altogether shame-fu!.
The space at the back of the great pillars, which tell of Scotland's folly n
attempting to build a great national monument, was enclosed by a high paling
fence resembling a builder's yard, large placards informing the public that
for sixpence a head they could see "Forrest's Statuary" within. We boys
wondered what our deficiency in sixpences was depriving us of, but having
since seen some of the so-called statuary, it's not possible to do otherwise
than wonder that our municipal fathers should have condescended to let the
city's property in order to enable Mr. Forrest to draw money by showing his
so-called artistic productions. The enclosure was hideous and discreditable,
and the contents were unworthy to be provided with accommodation on our
classical hill. It was only by an effort of the citizens that the Town
Council were prevented from placing these inartistic figures as adornments
to the main walk of West Princes Street Gardens' Farther eastwards one Miss
Short had succeeded, after several efforts, in leasing a space for what was
called an Observatory, a mean wooden erection, where a camera lucida or
obscura—I forget which—enabled the visitor to see the country round on a
flat, white table, and where at night an inferior telescope gave a vew of
the heavens. The scientific part of the exhibition was farcical to a degree.
A big kaleidoscope, in which the things moved about were imitations of
flowers instead of bits of coloured glass, was called a flora-scope. lie
only other exhibit w as of a would be electric telegraph. We were shown how
a needle could be moved from side to side, but while there was a dial
telegraph, it would not work—indeed, even a boy could see that the wires
were not attached to any battery, and the demonstrator moved the pointer
round with his finger. It was a sorry affair, and another example of the way
in whick our municipal governors, instead of guard -
THE CAl.TON HII.L, SHOWING SHORT'S OBSERVATORY, &c.
and to have left it
unoccupied, so that the view along the valley should not be interrupted. But
if any building was to be put upon it, nothing could have been more suitable
than the Gallery as it now stands. From the east it is a good architectural
feature. Upon the west it could not look well as long as the line of the
Mound, sloping up, cut off an irregular portion of t from view. But the
growth of trees 011 the west bank has gradually cured this fault by
obscuring the slanting line of the Mound. here is nothing now that ;s
offensive. All this was done when I was a boy, and took little interest in
such things; but I know from what I heard at the time, what a relief t was
to the "no mean city" feeling, to see those awful wooden booths pulled down
and carted away, removing once and for all what was the most terrible blot
on the city's fair face, and also putting an end to the disreputable misuse
of the part of the Mound not required for carriage-way.
But to make tip for this
improvement another outrage was committed, and submitted to without a
murmur. Edinburgh had the misfortune to have its gas-works set down in the
very heart of the city, on the low ground between the Canongate and Calton
Hill. With a too common want of prescience, similar to what was shown in the
case of the railway station, it was apparently not considered that the
consumption of gas must increase enormously as the size of the town became
greater from year to year. Thus it came about that in the course of time the
works extended greatly, befouling the streets around, and pouring smoke over
the town, with the result that the gas company, which apparently had been
put under no restrictions as to building operations, proceeded to erect a
chimney of gigantic proportions, which from every point of view was a cruel
disfigurement of the scene, although it was as inoffensive in design and
proportion as a chimney could be; as Stevenson says: "A shapelier edifice
than Nelson's monument" Still it was an eyesore. From Princes Street it
loomed up in front of the view of Arthur Seat as seen over the North Bridge.
From Calton Hill it cut the eye in the picturesque view of the old town.
From the Queen's Park it dwarfed all the buildings, and caught the eye
offensively when one turned to look up to the splendid view of the town with
the Castle crowning it. It will give an idea to the rising generation, of
this gigantic eyesore, to say that it was some feet higher than the Great
Pyramid of Ghizeh, and very nearly the same in height as St. Paul's
Cathedral in London. Though rising far below the level of Calton Hill, it
overtopped by many tens of feet Nelson's Monument on the top of the hill.
One would have thought that so terribly ugly a chimney-like erection as
dishonours the memory of Nelson, would have been a warning against further
disfigurement of the city. And there this vast stalk remained for half a
century, a hateful monument to the inefficiency of public rule and the
supineness of the Edinburgh citizen. Strange to say, the same cause which
led to the erection of the stalk brought about its much to be rejoiced over
removal. The increase of demand for gas led to the accommodation for the
works proving to be inadequate, and as they could not be extended, they were
removed, and the great chimney, and another that had been erected, not so
great, but equally a sad eyesore, were taken down. The man who would to-day
propose to put up such erections in the valley would probably come as near
to being tarred and feathered as the squeamishness of our twentieth century
civrlisation would allow. So there may be hope that the Nelson chimney may
be taken down,, and something less offensively staring the promenader of
Princes Street in the face, may be erected in honour of the great seaman.
Something less like a Brobdingnagian reproduction of his nautical telescope
might surely be substituted for what no architectural opinion will defend.
Its paltry sham battlements instead of improving it, make it more
contemptible.
At the same time at which
this gigantic chimney-stalk was erected to make a sad blot visible from
everywhere on the city's beauty, and in the same neighbourhood, an ancient
and honourable bi .Icing was removed. The evil not confined to secular
buildings. In the valley, opposite the Regent Arch in Waterloo Place, stood
Trinity College Church, worthy and venerable, which as it was in the way of
railway extension was ordered by Parliament to be removed, a deed which Lord
Cockburn called "a scandalous desecration." The authorisation for its
removal was fenced by a condition that it was to be taken down carefully and
re-erected as t was on some other site. I saw it from North Bridge when the
preparations were being made. Every stone had a number placed on it in large
white figures, corresponding no doubt with figures on plans. It was a very
strange sight. The stones were then removed to the slope of Regent Road and
laid down there, But it should be settled where the church was to be rebuilt
It cannot be said to have been to the credit of the city and its rulers that
the wreckage lay there for many a year, while difficulties were made about a
site, and the only one proposed by the Town Council being anything but
appropriate for such an interesting relic of the past. Lord Cockburn's
phrase has an added pungency from this failure to fulfil the obligation
undertaken. Many thought then, and many think now .that the failure had some
sectarian wilfulness about it. But whether this was so or not, nothing was
done. Not until Jeffrey Street was buiIt about 1870 was a single stone
removed from the heap that lay below Burns' Monument; and when the church
was built, it was no reproduction of that winch had been pulled down, though
some of the features were retained. This s not a very pleasant episode in
the city's history. Many a severe criticism did I hear passing among my
elders as to the almost wilful obstruction which was put in the way of the
carrying out of an obligation, both of duty imposed by Parliament, and of
honour in a matter of interest to the credit of the city's good name. It was
rather a mess, to which Uncle Toby's injunction may apply: "Say no more
about it."
It may well be that it was
the terrible neglect of, and actual outrage upon, the beauties of our city,
which led to a certain citizen being filled with evil thoughts regarding our
municipal fathers, who ought to be our protectors, and not themselves at one
with the evildoers. To give vent to his spleen he was m use when engaging a
maid —after adjustment of hours and wages, &c.— to use these words: "Now
there is only one other thing, which please take note of. If ever I catch
you entertaining any of the magistrates of Edinburgh in my kitchen, than
your Term Day!"
Another case of an
ecclesiastical building calls for notice. Among the many outrages on good
taste in matters relating to buildings, was one which did not exhibit itself
to the eye upon the street, but which was as offensive an interference with
an ancient edifice devoted to divine worship as ever was perpetrated by
people calling themselves Civilised. St. Giles' Cathedral, as we now see it,
is a noble pile, and though injured to some extent by the polished ashlar
which was so foolishly used to cover up the old rugged exterior— so suitable
to the character of the race whose sons worshipped in it—nothing can be said
against the grand simplicity and sobriety of the interior, restored through
the munificence of the late Dr. William Chambers. There the original
simplicity has been retained, w th excellent effect. But incredible as it
may appear, the interior had been absolutely destroyed, and remained
destroyed for many generations. By the aid of thousands of laths and tons of
plaster, the noble church was divided up into three great boxes. As the
visitor entered at the north side he found himself in a long passage which
went right across the church, a bald alley, without a single architectural
feature. From this alley doors admitted to the great divisions, in wl 3ch,
being deafened off from one another, three congregations sang and prayed and
listened to discourses. The building was made by the lath and plaster
partitions to present a symbolic representation of "The Schisms of the
Churches." It is a tradition that the tone and character of the teaching
conveyed in the three sections of the great building varied considerably,
but whether this be true or only rumour, deponent sayeth not. The division
of the building was evil enough. Yet for generations no one lifted up his
voice against this degradation of a great work, erected no doubt in a time
looked upon now as a dark age, but which at least in its efforts to honour
God did so with grandeur and good taste.
Thus was Edinburgh destined
for a long period of her history to witness against herself both by the
outside and by the inside of her ecclesiastical, her national, and her
municipal buildings. It is vain to mourn over those wrongs to our city winch
are irreparable. -The best signs of repentance would be a thorough awakening
to the need for guarding against such failures of duty in time to come. If
the evils that must be held permanent do some service as warning for the
future, it will be well. 'The burnt child dreads the fire.' Let us conserve
and not destroy, and let the eye be jealous in scanning every scheme for
change, both as to the advisability of the change itself, and as to the mode
of the carrying-out.
Facade of Royal Exchange |
