218 MEMORIALS OF EDINBURGH.
them to adjourn. It must be regarded as proving how thoroughly the cruel wrongs which
the Scottish Covenanters had suffered at the hands of their persecutors during the reign
of Charles 11. were laid to the charge of the active agents in their execution, that the
statue of that “ Monarch of Misrule ” survived the rabblements of this period, and still
graces the area of the Parliament Close,
The name
that still survives all other memorials of the Scottish hierarchy, recalls the time when
“ the honours ” of the kingdom were laid on the table, and the Lord High Commissioner
occupied the throne as the representative of majesty, while the eloquent Belhaven, the
astute and wary Lockhart, and the nervous Fletcher, pleaded for the ancient privileges
of their country, and denounced the measure that was to close its Legislative Hall for
ever. Many an ardent patriotic heart throbbed amid the dense crowd that daily assembled
in the Parliament Close, to watch the decision of the Scottish Estates on the detested
scheme of Union with England. Again ahd again its fate trembled in the balance,
but, happily for Scotland, English bribes outweighed the mistaken zeal of Scottish
patriotism and Jacobitism united against the measure. On the 25th March 1707, the
Treaty of Union was ratified by the Estates, and on the 22d April following, the
Parliament of Scotland adjourned, never again to assemble. The Lord Chancellor
Seafield, the chief agent in this closing scene of our national legislature, exclaimed on
its accomplishment, with heartless levity, ‘‘ There is an end of an auld sang ; ” but the
people brooded over the act as a national indignity and wrong; and the legitimate line
of their old Scottish kings anew found favour in their eyes, and became the centre of
hope to many who mourned over Scotland as .a degraded province of her old southern
rival.
Since then the ancient hall retains only such associations as belong to men eminent
for learning, or high in reputation among the members of the College of Justice. Duncan
Forbes, Lord Kames, Monboddo, Hume, Erskine, Mackenzie, and indeed nearly all the
men of note in Scottish literature,-if we except her divines,-have formed a part of the
busy throng that gave life and interest to Scotland’s Westminster Hall. Our own generation
has witnessed there Cockburn, Brougham, Horner, Jeffrey, and Scott, sharing in the
grave offices of the Court, or taking a part in the broad humour and wit for which the
members of “ the Faculty ” are so celebrated ; and still the visitor to this learned and
literary lounge cannot fail to be gratified in a high degree, while watching the different
groups who gather in the Hall, and noting the lines of thought or humour, and the
infinite variety of physiognomy, for which the wigged and gowned loiterers of the Law
Courts are peculiarly famed.
Among the more homely associations of the Old Parliament Close, the festivities of
the King’s birthday demand a special notice, as perhaps the most popular among the longcherished
customs of our ancestors, which the present generation has beheld gradually expire.
It was usual on this annual festival to have a public repast in the Parliament Hall, where
tables were laid out at the expense of the city, covered with wine and confeotions, and the
magistrates, judges, and nearly all the chief citizens, assembled for what was styled “ the
drinking of the King’s health.” On the morning of this joyous holiday the statue of King
Charles wa8 gaily decorated with flowers by the L L Add Gallants,” as the e’lhes of Heriot’s
The Old Parliament House witnessed thenceforth more legitimate scenes.
L UCKENBOOTHS AND PARLIAMENT CLOSE. 219
Hospital are still termed, who claimed this office by long prescription, and their acknowledged
skill in the art of loyal decoration, acquired in the annual custom of decking their
own founder’s statue.‘ This formed one of the chief attractions to the citizens throughout
the day, as well as to their numerous rustic visitors who crowded into the capital
on the occasion, to wituess or share in the fun. Towards the afternoon the veteran
corps of the city guard were called out to man the eastern entrance into the Parliament
Close while the guests were assembling for the civic entertainment, and thereafter to
draw up in front of the great hall, and announce with a volley to the capital at large each
loyal toast of its assembled rulers. Never did forlorn hope undertake a more desperate
duty! The first volley of these unpopular guardians of civic order was the signal
for a frenzied assault on them by the whole rabble of the town, commemorated in
Ferguson’s lively Address to the Muse on the Dead dogs and cats,
and every offensive missile that could be procured for the occasion, were now hurled
at their devoted heads ; and when at last they received orders to march back again to their
old citadel in the High Street, the strife became furious; the rough old veterans dealt
their blows right and left with musket and Lochaber axe wielded by no gentle hand,
but their efforts were hopeless against the spirit and numbers of their enemies, and the
retreat generally ended in an ignbminious rout of the whole civic guard. All law, excepting
mo6 Zuw, was suspended during the rest of the evening, the windows of obnoxious citizens
were broken, the effigies of the most unpopular public men frequently burnt, and for
more than half a century, the notorious Johnny Wilkes,” the editor of the North Briton,
and the favourite of the London apprentices, was annually burnt in effigy at the Cross
and other prominent parts of the town-an incremation which ‘ has lately altogether
fallen into desuetude.
Previous to the remodelling of the Parliament House, while yet the lofty lands of the
old close reared their huge and massy piles of stone high above the neighbouring buildings,
and the ancient church retained its venerable though somewhat dilapidated walls, the
aspect of this quadrangle must have been peculiarly grand and imposing, and such as we
shall look for in vain among the modern erections of the capital. It would be folly, bowever,
after recording so many changes that have passed over it at successive periods, to
indulge in useless regrets that our own day has witnessed others as sweeping as any that
preceded them, obliterating every feature of the past, and resigning it anew to the S~OW
work of time to restore for other generations the hues of age that best comport with ita
august and venerable associations. We shall close our notice with the following extract
from a local poem referring to the same interesting nook of the old Scottish capital :-
King’s birthday.”
A scene of grave yet busy life
Within the ancient city’s very heart,
Teeming with old historic memories, rife
With a departed glory, stood apart.
High o’er it rose St Giles’s ancient tower
Of curious fret work, whence the shadow falls,-
As the pale moonbeams through its arches pour,-
Tracing a shadowy crown upon the walls
1 One of the graceful and innocent customs-of earlier times, which was for sometimeiu abeyance, but is now happily
again revived.
