Edinburgh of 1875 had terrible problems but its 'wonderful natural beauty' shone through
Edinburgh’s Old Town was a disease-ridden slum in the late 1800s, but people also recognised it was a truly special city that needed to be treated with care
“The weather continues very severe, and in most parts of the country there is heavy snow on the ground”, reported the Edinburgh Evening News. It was December 1875, 150 years ago, with the newly formed Hibernian FC due to play Hearts on Christmas Day on the East Meadows. What was life like in the capital that cold mid-winter? What can we learn for today from our city then?
Edinburgh’s population was around 250,000, less than half of what it is today. Though Portsburgh, Calton, St Cuthbert’s and southern suburbs like The Grange had been administratively incorporated into the city in 1856, Edinburgh remained small.
High residential densities meant that a brisk walk would take an able, adult pedestrian from a home on the outskirts to Princes Street in less than half an hour. Playfair’s Donaldson’s Hospital, opened in 1850, still effectively stood as the western gateway. The boundary with Leith was at Pilrig, and Portobello was not part of Edinburgh. Beyond the edges of the city, feudal tower houses stood tall, overlooking their ancestral estates.
Cutting-edge transport
The city was small, but growing. Development was proceeding apace, not only in the southern suburbs but also in Dalry, Fountainbridge and Leith Walk, districts a short walk from jobs.
For the better off, a cutting-edge transport innovation encouraged the city’s spread – horse-drawn trams. Introduced in 1871 and operated by the Edinburgh Street Tramways Company, they conveyed clerks and shoppers into town, with the first route running from Haymarket, via Princes Street, to Bernard Street in Leith.
It took at least five horses to haul a bus up Edinburgh’s hills, while the Mound, Broughton Street and the northern New Town were just too steep. The arrival of the trams was controversial, with the Sabbath Alliance devoutly contesting Sunday operation. It would not be Edinburgh’s last trams controversy.
Waverley Station was bustling. To cope, it had recently been extended west of North Bridge, with a new entrance from Waverley Bridge. The upgrade included a new roof, a two-storey booking office, a new goods shed, first and second-class waiting rooms, and refreshment facilities.
Importantly, the roof’s height was deliberately restricted to protect the skyline and views. Over 100 years later, Railtrack succeeded in getting approval to increase the height, to develop a shopping centre. Though Railtrack soon met its demise, and failed to realise those aspirations, the future of Waverley Station remains crucial for the city, economically, functionally, environmentally and in terms of the impact on views to the Forth and the Old Town. The respect for the city shown 150 years ago should not be bartered now or in the future.
Overcrowding, lack of sanitation, and disease
In 1875, Edinburgh had a housing crisis. While many lived comfortably, with domestic servants to do onerous housework, the housing situation in the Old Town was literally life-threatening. Extreme overcrowding, lack of sanitation, a poor domestic water supply and ineffective waste disposal bred disease and, for the young and old in particular, death. In 1850 in Blackfriars Wynd, 1,025 people lived in 193 rooms.
Something had to be done, though some attributed the high mortality rates to immorality and ignorance. Replacing these dens of pauperism with better housing and wide new roads would also speed journeys to the growing southern suburbs. Work had started on Jeffrey Street.
Thus, by the 1870s conditions were improving, as clearances and rebuilding replaced the worst narrow wynds. However, this early venture into urban redevelopment was problematic. Rents of the new apartments were unaffordable for those being displaced.
Scarce cheap housing was being demolished, and people got eight weeks’ notice of impending eviction. There were also concerns about the costs of the programme to the public purse.
Housing economics meant that building good-quality homes for those on low and irregular incomes was not a competitive investment. When feuing sites for development, the city’s major landowners were well aware of this, as are today’s housebuilders. Though real wages were rising and living costs falling, Edinburgh was, as now, an unequal city.
Edinburgh of 1875 was an increasingly modern urban environment, where transport infrastructure, housing development and returns on land ownership all affected each other, and impacted on public health and the historic fabric of the well-named Auld Reekie. This complexity posed major challenges for the Town Council and concerns amongst citizens for the capital’s future.
Cockburn Association is born
On Tuesday, June 17, 1875, The Scotsman reported on an afternoon meeting chaired by Lord James Moncrieff to discuss preserving and extending the beauties of Edinburgh: “The attendance was not large.” Those present included scientists and historians, local politicians, lawyers and accountants, artists and architects, ministers and merchants.
Long before city branding, Moncrieff pinpointed Edinburgh’s unique asset – “the wonderful natural beauty of its situation”. The Cockburn Association was formed, signing up 235 members in its first year.
Campaigning mainly on what we would now call environmental issues, it made an immediate impact. Building on the north side of Jeffrey Street was “strongly and unanimously” opposed, preserving views we still enjoy today. A key objective in the association’s prospectus was achieved, the opening of West Princes Street Gardens to the public, a benefit for generations that followed.
The ‘public interest’ was a driving principle. Good quality, publicly accessible greenspace was seen as essential, and still is. It matters for mental and physical health, for equity and, today, for the climate emergency.
Tactful lobbying by the association’s influential leaders 150 years ago left legacies that are still enjoyed. The council was encouraged to make a public park at Inverleith. Sir George Warrender was persuaded to stop felling trees on his Bruntsfield estate.
At a time when few in Edinburgh had a vote, a practical case was made for the duty of active citizenship: indifference was, and remains, a threat to the beauty of Edinburgh.
Cliff Hague and Richard Rodger are the editors of Campaigning for Edinburgh – The Cockburn Association 1875-2049
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