WITH the tragic and
untimely death of Alexander III. Scotland was to enter upon a long, cruel,
and desolating war to maintain her independence against the aggressive
policy of Edward I. During this troubled period the prosperity which
Alexander III. and his immediate predecessors, the "Kings of
Peace," had done so much to build up by their wise and friendly
policy towards England was completely destroyed. Alexander’s little
granddaughter, the Maid of Norway, was the nearest heir to the throne. The
Scots agreed with her grand-uncle, Edward I., that she should become the
bride of his son, Edward, Prince of Wales, and in this way bring about the
union of England and Scotland under one sovereign. But this child of many
hopes, the little Maid, died on the voyage from Norway, leaving to
Scotland a disputed succession which gave an opening for the mischievous
interference of Edward I. The
English king’s attempt to make Scotland a province of England changed
the two otherwise friendly countries into bitter foes. The three centuries
of devastating wars that followed made Scotland very unlike the happy and
prosperous country she was in the days of Alexander III.
In 1296 Edward captured Berwick, and, by a savage
massacre of its inhabitants, reduced that city of merchant princes to
the market town it has ever since remained. Mounted on his great war
horse Bayard, Edward led his army northwards and took up his quarters at
Holyrood, while his fleet, laden with supplies for his troops, anchored
off Leith.
During his progress through
Scotland the landowners of the country great and small, churchmen, nobles,
and the chief burgesses, were summoned to do homage and swear fealty to
the conqueror. The names of all who performed these acts of homage have
been carefully preserved on four rolls of parchment known as the Ragman
Roll. These rolls form a valuable record of the lands, though not always
of their owners, in our own immediate district at this date, and to them
we are indebted for any little light that gives us a peep at the condition
of things in and around Leith during those dark and troubled days. It is
there that we find for the first time the name of an Edinburgh magistrate,
namely, William de Dederyk, Alderman, as the provost was called in those
early days.
There, too, we find the
name of Adam, parson of Restalrig, the parish church of Leith at this
time. King Edward had seized the lands of Holyrood, so that the greater
half of Leith passed into the hands of the English; but Abbot Adam and all
the canons swore a solemn oath of fealty to the English king in the Abbey
chapter-house, a few remains of whose foundations may still be seen on the
lawn at Holyrood. In those days men did not observe very faithfully feudal
pledges not over willingly given, so, to add to the solemnity of their
oath, the abbot and canons were compelled to swear over the sacrament
bread—the Corpus Christi or body of Christ—brought
from the high altar dedicated to the Holy Rood.
In this way was the convent
again put in possession of its lands, no doubt to the joy of its sorely
troubled vassals in Leith, who rejoiced to have the good abbot and canons
come among them, as they were wont to do. Thus did the policy of Abbot
Adam of swearing fealty to Edward I. secure the safety of his monastery
and the fortunes of his part of Leith during his remaining years. But they
were difficult and dangerous times, and it was no easy matter knowing what
course to steer. The Abbey with its adjacent possessions was doomed to
suffer grievously at the hands of the English before they would yield to
acknowledge Scotland’s independence.
The lands of Holyrood were
not the only parts of Leith to come under King Edward’s peace at this
time. Farther down the roll we find the name of John de Lestalric and that
of his near neighbour, and no doubt good friend, Geoffrey de Fressinglye,
Lord of Puddingston. A few years later, however, De Lestalric and his
companion-in-arms, De Fressinglye, were to forfeit their lands of
Restalrig and Duddingston for being among the first to enlist under the
banner of Robert the Bruce and doing their "bit" in the long and
strenuous fight for Scotland’s independence. In this struggle they were
either killed or worn out with hardships and toil, for, like Randolph and
the Good Lord James, they both died comparatively early in life.
The early struggle against
England is rather an obscure period of Scotland’s history, and but for
the immediate neighbourhood of the mighty fortress of Edinburgh Castle,
which was strongly held for England until the year of Bannockburn, and
which dominated and held in subjection the whole neighbourhood, Leith
might have dropped out of the history of this time altogether; but, as it
is, it bulks more largely, if less romantically, than Edinburgh itself in
the story of those stirring and chivalrous days.
No sooner did the English
garrison take up its quarters in Edinburgh Castle than English ships began
to arrive in Leith harbour with large supplies of all kinds, the various
items of which show us that grains and wines were then, as with us to-day,
among the chief imports. These stores, many of which came from Berwick
under the protection of the traitor Earl of Dunbar, who was ever on the
side of England, included wheat, barley, malt, meal and wines, munitions
of war, and "Eastland boards" for the manufacture of Edward I’s
great war machines.
Many of these stores were
reshipped in smaller craft for the English garrisons at Stirling,
Clackmannan, and other places of strength farther up the Forth. In 1303,
for example, an engine capable of throwing missiles weighing one
hundredweight was sent with munitions from Edinburgh Castle to Edward I.,
who had been for three months baffled in the capture of Stirling Castle by
the vigilance and skill of that gallant knight and near neighbour to the
Leith folks of those days, Sir William Oliphant of Muirhouse, just beyond
Pilton.
For the protection of these stores a detachment from
the Castle garrison was posted in Leith, no doubt in some fort on the
Shore near the Broad Wynd, the seaward limit of the town in those days.
There were no great docks in Leith at this time, with their miles of stone
quays. The Shore, which extended as far as the present Broad Wynd, was
then the only quay for the loading and discharging of vessels. How
picturesque must have been the scene, with the green and wooded banks of
the winding river, and the old-world ships with their great high sterns,
from which their captains could overlook and direct all that was being
done! How great also the noise and bustle among the English soldiers as
they loaded their lumbering and creaking wagons with their share of stores
for Edinburgh Castle!
There was no Leith Walk
then, nor for many centuries after, and we must put from our minds all our
notions of roads derived from the fine highways of our own day. The Easter
Road, Bonnington Road, and the Restalrig Road were then mere tracks across
the heathery waste that, but for the cornfields adjacent to the two towns,
filled all the area between the port and the city, if we may so dignify
the four hundred or more thatched dwellings that made up the Edinburgh of
the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. The most direct road, and,
no doubt, the one most used by the English soldiery, was the Bonnington
Road, which led cityward by way of Broughton. It was at this early date,
one may be sure, the most frequented and the best of the three tracks, for
the monks of Holyrood to whom it belonged were great roadmakers.
In the spring of 1314 many of those same English
soldiers who had been accustomed to drive so merrily with munitions and
stores between the Castle and the Shore fell under the swords of Randolph
and his companions when they captured Edinburgh Castle by climbing the
Castle rock overlooking Princes Street—the most brilliant feat of arms
of that heroic age. Immediately afterwards the English garrison posted in
Leith burnt all their shipping and stores and sailed away southwards to
Berwick, then a great English naval and military base for supplying and
fitting out expeditions against Scotland.
A few months later, on a
bright day towards the end of June, the great army of Edward II., on its
way to Bannockburn, and anticipating an easy and triumphant victory,
encamped between Edinburgh and Leith to receive supplies from the fleet
which lay off the harbour. This great English host, though perhaps only a
fourth as large as the chroniclers would have us believe, was yet imposing
enough to dismay the Scots leaders as they saw it approaching them at
Bannockburn.
The womenfolk of Leith from some safe retreat watched
the mighty host march away westwards, and trembled at the sight when they
thought of their sons and husbands who had followed the banner of their
gallant leader, Sir John de Lestalric, to join the king at Stirling; for
Leithers in the old days, as in these, were loyally patriotic, and ever
among the foremost to rally to their country’s need. There was one
Leither, however, a sailor, whose name, preserved for us in a pay sheet of
this time, shows him to have been in the service of the English. This is
not surprising, considering that they had held Leith as one of their chief
bases of supplies for nearly twenty years. Nicholas of Leith, mariner, was
with the English ships at Berwick, and may at this very time have come
with the fleet to Leith Roads.
How unexpected must have been the sight, and how wild
their joy, when these same Leith womenfolk saw some five hundred fugitive
horsemen, all that was left of the flower of England’s chivalry that had
ridden past Leith with so brave a show some three days before, pass in
headlong flight on their way towards England. They were led by a traitor
Scot, and followed close at heel by the Good Lord James with some sixty
men, too few to attack, but not too few to cut off stragglers and keep the
main body on the move.
In spite of his crushing defeat at Bannockburn, Edward
II. obstinately refused to acknowledge Scotland as a free and independent
country and Bruce as its king. The war was, therefore, resolutely carried
on, mostly by invasions of England on the part of the Scots, under the
gallant and skilful leadership of Douglas and Randolph. Provoked by these
numerous and destructive raids, Edward determined, in 1322, on another
attempt to crush Scotland. This invasion brings Leith once more into
notice, for here Edward encamped for three days to await the arrival of
his fleet with supplies. Bruce followed the tactics Wallace employed
against Edward I. before the Battle of Falkirk. All cattle, corn, and food
of every kind were secreted far from the English line of march. All
merchandise was, no doubt, stored within the Castle. Edward found no
cattle in Lothians save one cow too lame to be driven away like the
others.
But where did the people of Edinburgh and Leith betake
themselves? During an English invasion some sixty years later it is
recorded that they transported themselves and their goods across the
Forth, previously carrying off the straw roofs of their dwellings, so that
when the English entered they found only roofless and empty houses. But
the Leithers did not always betake themselves so far in times of invasion,
for there were many safe retreats among the woods, marshes, and lakes by
which the Leith and Edinburgh of those early centuries were surrounded,
and to which Edinburgh may have owed its name of Lislebourg, so
persistently used by Queen Mary, Mary of Guise, and the French of the
sixteenth century.
Starvation compelled the English to retreat; but before
doing so, to the horror of the whole neighbourhood and the grief of the
people of North Leith, the English, as Fordoun, the father of Scottish
history and the greatest of our old-time Scots chroniclers, tells us,
"sacked and plundered the monastery of Holyrood, and brought it
to great desolation," for Edward II. lacked
not only the wisdom but also the piety of his father, Longshanks, who was
ever a devoted worshipper of the saints and a lover of monasteries. Then
the Leithers returned, and quickly and easily rethatched their dwellings,
and settled down to the old way of life, to work with redoubled energy to
repair their losses; for in those days, as, indeed, all through their
history, Leithers had to, and did, live up to their town motto of ‘‘Persevere."
Standing as it did in close
proximity to Edinburgh, the goal of most invading English armies, and
never possessing, except for a very short period, any protecting walls,
Leith suffered even more than Edinburgh at the hands of the "auld
enemy." Her houses, largely composed of timber or rude stonework and
thatch, were easily and speedily restored. They had certainly no
architectural beauty. The ordinary houses of those days were little better
than huts, with little furniture and less comfort; but
as Leithers had never known anything better, these troubles distressed
them little. Such frequent dislocation of their trade and commerce,
however, must have greatly retarded the progress of their town. At last
the English recognized that their only wise course was to acknowledge
Scotland’s independence, which they did by the Treaty of Northampton in
1328, when Scotland gained all she had striven for, and Bruce just saw the
accomplishment of his great life work, for he died the following year.
And then it seemed as if
all King Robert’s great work was about to be undone, for the peace
concluded at Northampton lasted only two years. Edward III. now repudiated
what the English called the "shameful treaty "
of Northampton. Edward Baliol claimed the throne, and Edward III.,
hoping, like his grandfather, to become Scotland’s overlord, aided him,
and once more the land was cruelly devastated by English invasion. In 1335
Edward III. ordered Edinburgh Castle to be rebuilt and fortified, and for
this purpose much Eastland timber was brought into Leith and then
transported to Edinburgh. The work was carried out under Sir John de
Stirling, an exceedingly able and active officer, who, on taking over his
command, reported that there was no dwelling in the said Castle save a
little chapel (St. Margaret’s), partly unroofed, showing with what
reverence Randolph had preserved it, and how completely he had destroyed
the Castle as a fortress. Stirling’s accounts, still preserved, form a
valuable record of the condition of things in our neighbourhood under
English rule.
Sir John de Lestalric and
his companion-in-arms, Geoffrey of Duddingston, were now dead, whether
slain in battle against the English or not we have now no means of
knowing. Each had been succeeded by his son—true "chips of the old
blocks," for both were forfeited for loyally and nobly supporting the
cause of Scotland and freedom against Edward III., while many renegade
Scots saved their estates by taking the English side. With the English
garrison in Edinburgh Castle were some twenty Scotsmen, of whom not one
belonged to either Leith or Restalrig, showing that the hearts of his
vassals were with their forfeited lord.
Leith now once again became
the chief port on the east coast for English supplies, and here the
English occupied De Lestalric’s house, but whether as a place of
residence for their garrison or as a storehouse for supplies—more
probably the latter—we are not told. The names of many of the ships
bringing supplies from the south to Leith are recorded—such as the Mariola,
St. Nicholas, and the Goddys Grace—their saintly names in no
way deterring their captains and crews from indulging in a little piracy
when occasion offered.
Sir John de Stirling commandeered a fleet of eighteen
boats from Cramond, Musselburgh, and other places, to be moored at Leith
for the use of his garrison, and now and again the governor’s account
books give us a peep at the rather exciting incidents Leith sometimes
experienced during the English occupation. Sir Andrew Murray of Bothwell,
the courageous son of the heroic companion of Wallace, was besieging Cupar
Castle in Fife, skilfully defended for the English by William Bulloch, a
clergyman of great military talent who had mistaken his calling. Sir John
de Stirling determined to cross the Scots Water—that is, the Firth of
Forth— and relieve it. For this purpose he had gathered together at
Leith a fleet of thirty-two vessels and two hundred and twenty-four
mariners. Suddenly crossing the Forth with the whole of the Edinburgh
garrison, he successfully accomplished the relief of Bulloch, and returned
to Leith within the marvellously short space of four days. But then Edward
III., unlike his grandfather, knew how to choose his officers.
Sir John de Stirling, however, skilful commander as he
was, had still more skilful opponents, for at this time Sir Alexander
Ramsay of Dalhousie, whose ruined castle still stands above the waters of
the South Esk at Cockpen, had gathered together a band of homeless
patriots, among whom, perhaps, were the young De Lestalric, and the lords
of Duddingston, Craigmillar, Liberton, Braid, Dean, Inverleith, and Pilton—all
forfeited and outlawed at this time for their resistance to English
aggression. They had their fastness within the ancient caves among the
cliffs at Hawthornden, near Roslin. From these, at unexpected times, they
would pounce down upon the soldiers of Sir John Stirling as they convoyed
supplies between Leith and Edinburgh for the Castle garrison. Sir
Alexander Ramsay was one of the most distinguished warriors of that time,
and he and his outlawed troop were worthy successors of those who had won
Bannockburn. They were the heroes of many daring deeds. With such men as
these on the patriotic side, and such women as "Black Agnes" to
inspire them with courage, the English and Baliol soon lost their hold in
Scotland when their garrisons were driven out of Edinburgh and Leith.
In April 1341 Edinburgh Castle was captured by a clever
stratagem planned by Bulloch (who had been won over to the Scots side),
Sir William Douglas the Black Knight of Liddesdale, and other heroes,
aided by three Edinburgh merchant burgesses, William Fairley, Walter
Curry, and William Bartholomew. A merchant ship belonging to Walter Curry
was freighted from Dundee with a cargo of provisions for Leith. At Dundee
they privately received aboard their ship Douglas, Bulloch, and some two
hundred other bold and daring spirits, and, under pretence of being
English merchantmen—they had shaved their beards in the Anglo-Norman
manner—anchored off Leith. They then offered for sale to the English
commander of Edinburgh Castle their cargo of "biscuit, wine, and
strong beer all excellently spiced," and were told to bring it to the
Castle at an early hour in the morning, "lest they should be
intercepted by Dalhousie and other Scottish knaves."
Early next morning the laden wagons set out from the
Shore under the care of armed men disguised as sailors, and eventually
reached the Castle. The gates were at once opened, and at the entrance the
wagons were so halted that it was impossible either to close them or to
let down the portcullis.
A shrill blast from a bugle-horn brought Douglas and
his friends, who were lurking in the neighbourhood. After a desperate
conflict the garrison was overpowered. In this way Leith and Edinburgh
were freed from English rule until the days of Cromwell. The descendants
of William Fairley long held the estates of Braid and Bruntsfield, but now
live in Ayrshire. The merchant booths of Fairley, Curry, and William
Bartholomew were the last three on the south side of the High Street, just
before coming to St. Giles’ Church. Walter Curry’s, the last of the
three, stood exactly where the City Cross stands now. How many Leith and
Edinburgh people who pass this spot to-day know aught of these three
merchants who had their booths here, and who on that early morning some
six hundred years ago played so heroic a part in their country’s story?
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