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  1. The thread about the problems of sewage disposal in 19th century Edinburgh and Leith, and how something was done about it

    Are we sitting comfortably? The first part of Edinburgh’s sewage history was the Thread About the East Foul Burn and the Irrigated Meadows. Let us now turn to Chapter 2 of that story;the drainage and sewage problems of Victorian Edinburgh and how to fix them.

    The Silent Highwayman. A satirical cartoon from Punch magazine in London in 1850 on the fatal costs of having a polluted river running through a metropolis.

    Our story starts with a little revision of the topography of the city; without it what follows just doesn’t make sense for the simple and important reason that sewage will only run downhill. So here is a topographically coloured map of central Edinburgh. White is highest, then red, orange, yellow, green, light blue; and then dark blue is lowest. Simple physics dictates that a liquid – and therefore sewage – will flow downhill from the red areas via the other colours of the rainbow to dark blue – and cannot go the other way. It will continue to do so until it either collects somewhere on the way from where it cannot escape, or finds an outflow to the sea. The dark blue channel in the top left is the Water of Leith valley. The Castle Rock and long tail of the High Street and Canongate can be seen in the middle. Calton Hill to the top and Arthur’s Seat is the red and white promontory on the right.

    Topographical map of Central Edinburgh, indigo is the lowest, rising up through blue, green, yellow, orange, red and then white to the highest point.

    And here is a 1784 town plan overlaid on that. The First New Town has only just really begun to be built; the black blocks show the completed buildings and most are just plans at this point, and there is very little built to the north of George Street, so the starting point of what is happening to Edinburgh’s sewage during this time is that little of it is draining away towards the north and the Water of Leith.

    Topographical map of Edinburgh overlaid with Kincaid’s 1784 Town Plan, latter reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

    No, the vast majority from old Edinburgh (and the southern part of the First New Town) ends up draining east (orange) into what is known as the East Foul Burn. The Southside is relatively lightly populated and its waste (yellow) cannot proceed east but instead goes west into the Boroughloch (now drained as The Meadows), where it slowly winds its way west into the Water of Leith via the Lochrin Burn. The north part of the First New Town (pink) has a relatively small contribution to make towards the city’s waste and goes downhill and north to the Water of Leith by one route or another.

    The sewage flows of Edinburgh in 1784. Base map reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

    Up until the mid-late 18th century, it is the orange lines where most of the waste is; just look at the density (black) of housing in the Old Town, Canongate and Grassmarket and then reflect that most of it is 4 or 5 storeys tall or more! Layers and layers of people living cheek-by-jowl and not a flushing toilet or underground sewer to share amongst them. Notice also that much less of the sewage heads into the Nor’ Loch than you might expect from the popular tale of it being the city’s sewer (the Nor’ Loch is that ancient, man made loch to the north of the castle that was part of the city’s defences, and while it was foul and polluted it was not the main sewer).

    “The Flowers of Edinburgh”, a satirical 18th century print on the traditional manner of “flushing the toilet” in Old Town Edinburgh. © The Trustees of the British Museum

    At this point most of the city’s sewage is simply cast directly from pisspot and chamber pot into the simple gutters that ran down the closes, where it mixed and collected with all the animal dung, food waste and industrial detritus of life and found its way into open sewers . These were little more than ditches, covered with stone capping slabs in places to allow them to be crossed, and of which there were 3 principal routes:

    1. The first is into the Nor’ Loch valley, via the North Back of Canongate (Calton Road) and Abbeyhill
    2. The second is via the Cowgate and South Back of Canongate (Holyrood Road) and into the King’s Park and joins with number 1 near the Clockmill House in the park
    3. The third is from the Southside and the St. Leonard’s and Dumbiedykes areas where it enters the King’s Park and then joins with number 2

    The flow was then east towards the Firth of Forth.

    Principal open sewers of late 18th century Edinburgh. Overlay map reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

    The route to the Firth of Forth via the East Foul Burn was the remarkable piece of aquatic engineering of the Irrigated Meadows. In a time before artificial fertilisers, human as well as animal manure was vitally important for food production. These meadows, constantly replenished by controlled inundation by fertilising sewage, could grow multiple crops of fodder each year which fed the city’s horses and dairy cows. The important point being made here is that the sewage system of the city back then was much more complicated and managed than we might give it credit for – as soon as the waste left the centre of population – but it was nothing to do with public health and everything to do with the practicalities and economics of food production. And private profit for the landowners!

    The East Foul Burn at Craigentinny, W. S. Reid, 1860. Looking towards Craigentinny House. Notice the bridge across the river and that the bank is reinforced – evidence of the extensive river management. The crops on the left of the picture seem long and those on the right are short, evidence of the constant rotation of cropping in the plots. © Edinburgh City Libraries

    This system was progressively sent underground into proper sewers through the 19th century. The irrigated meadow system persisted right up to the 1920s when it was bypassed by a proper sewer, the land drained and given over to council and bungalow housing estates.

    Jumping through time now to round about 1850, there has been a fairly obvious change to the old system as a large part of the growing city is no longer in the catchment of the East Foul Burn system (orange) but now the Water of Leith (yellow). And to there it did flow in great abundance!

    Late 19th century sewage catchment map of Edinburgh, the pale blue area was served by the East Foul Burn, the pale orange area had been served by the Water of Leith.

    The Water of Leith was far less suited to being a sewer than the East Foul Burn as its flow was highly seasonal (far more so than it is now since compensation reservoirs were built in the 19th century to maintain the water level and flow in the river for industry). During the periods of little to no flow the sewage would collect and gather and fester. Additionally, this river was tapped by numerous mill lades – large and small – and the slower water flowing through these meant that the sewage would settle out of the water, silting up the lades and collecting behind the weirs, “by the middle of the 19th century the condition of this river had seriously deteriorated“. But this was a nuisance mainly of the sight and smell of raw sewage; it was not until the Second Cholera Epidemic of 1848-1849 that it was finally proved and widely understood that water polluted by sewage had a pivotal role in spreading disease.

    Not only do you have the raw sewage of the New Town and the expanding north of Edinburgh carried directly into the Water of Leith, the dense industry along the route; below Coltbridge at Roseburn there was milling, distilling, tanning, papermaking, soapmaking, chemical works, gas works and more. All of these were dumping their waste and by products straight into the river, from where they flowed directly to the town of Leith. As the 19th century wore on, these industries began to use progressively less water for power as steam took over, but instead used it for new processes such as cooling steam engines and flushing waste away – neither of which required the maintenance expense of headwater lades, many of which simply silted up with sewage from lack of use.

    Something had to be don; but it was not clear specifically what. Industry was fairly happy so long as the river flowed, and it was kept flowing by a series of “compensation reservoirs” in the Pentland Hills which kept up a reliable supply of water in the upper reaches of the Water of Leith. Reformers and residents desired a change to clean up the river and their environment. This was stymied by interminable jurisdiction conflicts; there was no single authority or jurisdiction along the river and there were long standing legal rights for industries to extract water and fill their lades.

    The first meaningful effort for change was made in 1853 by the Edinburgh Police Commission (the “Police” back then were mainly concerned in handling the city lighting, cleansing, sanitation, weights and measures, some taxation etc. Law enforcement was something they did on the side). The Police engaged consulting engineers to look at the state of the lower river (beyond Coltbridge / north of Roseburn), who surveyed it carefully and came to the logical conclusion that it was full of shit.

    The engineers’ report made 2 simple reconsiderations;

    1. Clear the river bed of as many unnecessary obstructions where sewage accumulated (weirs and lades) as possible
    2. Build an “interceptor sewer“, that is one that intercepted all the existing sewer outflows discharging into the river, collected their output, and made sure they never found their way into the river

    The Police Commissioners accepted the report without hesitation and in 1854 the Edinburgh Police Amendment Act was passed. Part 1 of the scheme was implemented with much struggle from reluctant and recalcitrant mill and land owners, but Part 2 came to nothing. The success of Part 1 helped Edinburgh, as it assisted in the flow of raw sewage down the river, but it did nothing for poor old Leith. As the river slowed in the basin of the Port of Leith the sediment and suspended sewage settled out of the water and silted up the bed. By 1855 this was causing the Leith Dock Commissioners a serious problem. They complained that the Water of Leith now “flushed so well that a foot of mud and solid filth had been depositedthis created such a noxious and offensive effluvium and stench, as to be exceedingly prejudicial to the health of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood“. Leith began to lobby Edinburgh for a joint solution to the problem; namely resurrecting the plan for the unbuilt interceptor sewer, and expanding it to catch the outflow of some 180 drains, constituting the whole north and west of Edinburgh and most of Leith.

    A scheme for the sewers was drawn up by the finest consulting engineers the city had to offer; Thomas and David Stevenson (of the “Lighthouse” dynasty).

    Thomas StevensonDavid Stevenson

    The city was further assisted by another Stevenson (no relation); a son of Glasgow and analytical chemist called Stevenson Macadam, who undertook the first chemical analysis of the contents of the river. Coincidentally he was the consultant chemist to the Northern Lighthouse Board for whom the Stevenson brothers were the principal engineers. Macadam’s work proved that although there was industrial waste in the river north of Roseburn, there was no “putrefaction” as a result, but just north of Roseburn where the West Foul Burn and city’s sewers began to enter it, “the quality deteriorated drastically“. Macadam didn’t mince his words. The river was receiving the raw sewage of “100,000 people and was charged with fecal matter of the most disgusting and abominable character“. It collected in “hot-beds of decomposing filth from which abundantly offensive gases were diffused“.

    Stevenson Macadam

    It took about 2 years of legal and political wrangling between Edinburgh and Leith to agree who should be liable for paying for what (it turned out that Edinburgh wasn’t legally liable for its own shit or the problems it caused once it entered the Water of Leith). It took the intervention of the Lord Justice-General (a senior Scottish judge) to put the legal liability to one side and he adjudicated that Edinburgh should be paying for what to do with its own waste, not Leith, where it had ended up. Despite opposition from mill owners and the usual nay sayers of local politics – averse to any change that they didn’t think impacted them – the Edinburgh and Leith Sewerage Act for the construction of the interceptor sewer was passed in 1864.

    A tax assessment under the powers of the Edinburgh and Leith Sewerage Act, 1864, for contribution towards the construction of the interceptor sewer.

    The next part of this story shall look at cleaning up the Water of Leith and the building of the interceptor sewers.

    Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.

    If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
    Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends and like-minded people, sites like this thrive on being shared.

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    #Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaret
  2. The thread about a remarkable view of Edinburgh in 1750; what we can see of a cityscape that was about to change forever

    This thread was originally written and published in October 2020. It has been lightly edited and corrected as applicable for this post.

    The British Library has done great things for the accessibility of the images in their collection by putting many of them at high resolution on Flickr, with a rights-free access. One such image is an absolutely glorious 1750s watercolour painted from the Castle Hill in 1750 by Paul Sandby, showing Edinburgh on the cusp of the great transition which would drain the Nor Loch, build the New Town and North Bridge, and change the city forever. One of the main things is just how big Calton Hill appears, as it’s been built upon and what we think of now as the hill is just the top poking out. Also the Castle Esplanade has not yet been landscaped

    https://www.flickr.com/photos/britishlibrary/50263334808

    The young Paul Sandby had a position first in the Military Drawing Department in London, and then as a draughtsman with the Board of Ordnance under Lt. Col. David Watson. At this time Watson was engaged in surveying and mapping almost the whole of the country of Scotland in the aftermath of the Jacobite rebellion of 1745. It was Watson who headed up the military survey of Scotland and who was involved in appointing William Roy as its cartographer.

    Sandby was employed to translate Roy and Watson’s surveying triangulations onto the paper as maps, and in summer he would join some of the surveying expeditions to make detailed and accurate landscape illustrations of important military features such as castles. He was not just a very good draughtsman, he turned out to be an exceptionally talented landscape artist. These watercolours show a striking accuracy and an attention to detail for the topography and lighting that make them particularly realistic. In his down time, Paul started making quick sketches and watercolours of the Scottish landscape and its people, documenting the country around him at the time.

    He left military employ in 1751 to become an artist and became known for making “real views from nature in this Country“. Paul’s older brother, Thomas, was also an artist and surveyor. He was the personal draughtsman to the Duke of Cumberland (or Butcher Cumberland, depending on your point of view), and it may have been his influence that secured Paul his position and from whom Paul got his early artistic training. He also made good sketches and illustrations of Scotland, including a few of Edinburgh.

    Paul Sandby by Francis Cotes

    So let’s immerse ourselves on a little tour of this part of Edinburgh in 1750; I’ll try and highlight some of the interesting features in it, concentrating on the things you can no longer see. Before we get going, two of the most striking topographical features are; just how big Calton Hill appears as it’s been built upon (what we think of now as the hill is just the top poking out) and that the Castle Esplanade has not yet been levelled and landscaped, instead it was fairly rough ground, an extension of the Castle Hill and a favoured place to promenade by the city’s upper classes.

    Let’s start on the left. First up we see the “North Flanker” of the Castle’s outer defences, one of a pair of arrowhead bastions defending the outer gatehouse still there (in a remodelled manner) to this day.

    The “North Flanker”

    An earlier image, from about 60 years previous, by John Slezer – a Dutch or German surveyor who made a number of sketches and stylistic maps of the City – shows where Sandby’s vantage point was (red arrow). Also shown are the West Kirk or St. Cuthbert’s (orange arrow) and the Castle wellhouse tower remains (blue).

    Slezszer’s “The North Side of the Castle of Edenborrow” © Edinburgh City Libraries

    On the shores of the Forth we can see North Leith and Newhaven (yellow), South Leith (green), St. Mary’s Kirk (blue) and the first of the glassworks cones (red), which had relocated to this spot only 2 or 3 years previously from North Leith. Not marked to the right of the glass cone is a windmill – used for crushing lead ore (a key ingredient in making crystal glass) – and the long, low sheds of the roperies – the principal, shore-based industry of Leith at the time. Sandby made other sketches and watercolours overlooking Leith too.

    Leith.

    Where Princes St. now runs, is a narrow, walled roadway, the Lang Dykes or Lang Gait (Scots for the long walls or long road – marked in red). In green is the little village of Picardy, established in 1730 to accommodate French weavers brought in to improve the local industry. Also, houses belonging to Sim (blue) and Hogg of Moultrieshill (yellow).

    The Lang Gait

    About 40 years after Sandby, the prolific watercolourist John Clerk of Eldin made a good illustration of Picardy, taken from the north slopes of the Calton Hill. We can see it is something of a model village, to its right is the house of the amusingly named Mr Spankie.

    Picardy, by John Clerk of Eldin. © Edinburgh City Libraries

    South of the Lang Gait is the area of fields and parkland (green) known as the Barefoot’s Park, and south again the blue area of the Nor’ Loch. At this point it would have been a partially drained swamp, and we can see this in the image with a lot of marshy ground breaking its surface. In orange is an area of quarrying where the Waverley “Mall” now sits. Poking out at the bottom in yellow is a collection of buildings around the old Castle wellhouse fortifications, which were used by skinners and tanners in the dirty business of processing the hides of the animals slaughtered at the eastern end of the Loch in the fleshmarkets.

    Barefoot’s Park and the Nor’ Loch.Seen from the north bank of the Loch, the fleshmarkets (left) and premises of the skinners and tanners (right) from John Slezer’s “Edinburgh and the North Loch”, c. 1673. © Edinburgh City Libraries

    In yellow is the collection of houses around Moutrie’s or Multer’s Hill (now styled Multrees), roughly where the Register House was soon to be built. In red, the tenements along Leith Wynd of the High and Low Calton. And on the hill (green) the Old Calton Burial Ground, later cut through by Waterloo Place. This cemetery was for the citizens of the Burgh of the Calton, most of whom were – for reasons of historical land ownership patterns – actually in the parish of South Leith, which was inconvenient for burial purposes.

    Moutrie’s Hill and the Calton

    At the head of the Nor’ Loch, below the medieval dam which held back its filthy waters, was the Physick Garden, where medicinal herbs and plants were cultivated. This institution was a direct fore-runner of the Royal Botanic Garden, it had moved here from the grounds of the Palace of Holyroodhouse in 1675 and would move again, to a location alongside Leith Walk, in 1763, before its final journey to Inverleith. By it are Trinity College Kirk (yellow) and Hospital (blue) and behind (red) is Paul’s Work, a charitable poorhouse which by this time had evolved into a “house of correction” or workhouse.

    The Physick Garden, Trinity College & HospitalTrinity College Kirk from the old Physick Garden in the early-mid 19th century. CC-by-NC National Galleries Scotland

    On the north slopes of the Castle Hill, is Alan Ramsay’s house and garden (no guesses where they took the name Ramsay Garden for the Victorian fantasia which now occupies this site from – Ramsay’s house was incorporated into it). Ramsay’s original house was built about 1740 and was known as the Guse Pye (Goose Pie) on account of its tall, octagonal form.

    Goose Pie House

    On the right in blue are the tall tenements (at least 9 or 10 storeys tall) of the Castlehill. The lower structures are clearly damaged, most likely from the brief siege of the ’45 when the Castle’s guns were turned on the Jacobites and the castle garrison sallied forth to burn the closest buildings to deny them as cover to the Jacobite pickets. Note in this image and the previous there are groups of well attired women and men promenading on the footpaths where the Esplanade would later be constructed.

    The Castlehill

    Less distinct – but take my word for it they are there! – we can make out Pilrig House (red) in the lands between Edinburgh and Leith, and down by Leith Links are two big houses, probably Coatfield Mains and Hermitage House (in yellow).

    In the distance

    Sandby’s work (like Slezer before him) is an invaluable record of what Edinburgh and Leith looked like at this time, when there are relatively few artists active in documenting what this part of the world looked like. They are an accurate reference point to compare with the maps of this time and also the plethora of Victorian engravings which frequently fill in the gaps with romantic speculation. If you’d like to see more of Sandby’s extensive back catalogue, look no further than the National Galleries of Scotland’s online collection.

    n.b. this thread was originally written a full 9 days before a very similar article about the same picture coincidentally appeared in the Edinburgh Evening News. You read it on Twitter first!

    Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.

    If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
    Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends and like-minded people, sites like this thrive on being shared.

    Explore Threadinburgh by map:

    Travelers' Map is loading...
    If you see this after your page is loaded completely, leafletJS files are missing.

    These threads © 2017-2026, Andy Arthur.

    NO AI TRAINING: Any use of the contents of this website to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

    #Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaret