These lines were written long ago, by old Mr. Lloyd, on one of his visits to his son-in-law at Niddrie, and described the direction of his daily walks. They will apply equally well to us to-day, for we leave Edinburgh by what used to be the Cameron Toll; and, letting the main road pursue its way south to Dalkeith,—to be rejoined by us later on,—we turn to the left and skirt The Cameron. This place is being rapidly built over, but it is still possible to trace the lines of the crooked-nosed promontory, which here stretched into the long-vanished lake, and from which the estate acquired its name.
A little farther east we see Prestonfield standing on the gently-rising ground between us and Arthur Seat. Originally known as Priestfield, and granted by James IV. in 1510 to Walter Chapman, the first Edinburgh printer, it very soon after passed into that branch of the Hamilton family that were ancestors of the Earls of Haddington. Sir Alexander Hamilton of Priestfield, brother to the first earl, sold the property to his neighbour, Sir Robert Murray of Cameron. A few years later, in 1679, both places were brought by Sir James Dick, Lord Provost of Edinburgh, who joined to them additional lands acquired from the Prestons of Craigmillar. He changed the name of the whole property to Prestonfield, and built the present house in 1687; the former one having been burnt down by the students of the College of Edinburgh, in an antipapist riot a few years before. The present owner of Prestonfield, Sir Robert Dick Cunyngham, is a direct descendant of Sir James Dick.
Some rather amusing verses were written in 1759 by Dr. Benjamin Franklin, after a visit here. They seem worth quoting, and run as follows:—
Joys of Prestonfield, adieu! Late found, soon lost, but still we'll view Th' engaging scene—oft to these eyes Shall the pleasing vision rise.
Hearts that warm towards a friend, Kindness on kindness without end, Easy converse, sprightly wit, These we found in dame and knight.
Cheerful meals, balmy rest, Beds that never bugs molest, Neatness and sweetness all around, These—at Prestonfield we found.
Hear, O Heaven! a stranger's prayer! Bless the hospitable pair! Bless the sweet bairns, and very soon, Give these a brother, those a son![30]
It is interesting to add that the hopes expressed in the last verse were fulfilled two years later by the birth of Sir William.
The place has been constantly let during the present century, and a curious and unexplained occurrence happened here in 1830, when it was rented by the Dowager Lady Gifford (grandmother to the present Lord Gifford), who was anxious to be near Edinburgh for the education of her sons. Lady Gifford's daughters, the Hon. Mrs. Holland and the Hon. Jane Gifford, were girls at the time. Their schoolroom was over the front door, which has a covered portico, under which carriages drive up. One morning, about eight o'clock, the girls were in the schoolroom before breakfast, when Mrs. Holland happened to look out of the window, and called her sister's attention to a carriage, which she saw some way off turning into the avenue. As it came nearer, they saw it was a large black carriage, drawn by two coal-black horses; the servants on the box, as well as the people inside, were dressed in deep mourning. The girls wondered who could be arriving at such an early hour; and, afraid of being seen, they crouched down behind the window-sill as the carriage drove up, and watched it disappear beneath the portico. After waiting some time, they heard no bell, nor any sounds of an arrival, nor did the carriage drive away again. One of the girls went down to see what was happening. No carriage was there, neither had any one heard or seen such a thing. The girls naturally took it as an omen of evil, either to themselves or to the owners of Prestonfield, but no calamity in either family followed this appearance, nor do I believe has it been seen since. The mystery has never been explained in any way, but both Mrs. Holland and Miss Gifford are perfectly positive as to what they saw.
The garden is very quaint, and the situation of the house, with the hill and the loch behind it, must always make it a pretty place.