The cottage, and the kail-yard, and the peat-stack, and the whole little establishment of John Brown, the religious carrier, have long disappeared from the heath and the muir; but the little spot, within one of the windings of the burn, where the “House in the Muir” stood, is still green amidst surrounding heath; and in the very centre of that spot there lies a slab, or flat stone, now almost covered over with grass, upon which, with a little clearing away of the moss from the faded characters, the following rude but expressive lines may still be read:—
Clavers might murder godly Brown,
But could not rob him of his crown;
Here in this place from earth he took departure,
Now he has got the garland of the martyr.
Blackwood’s Magazine, 1822.
TRADITIONS OF THE OLD TOLBOOTH OF EDINBURGH.
By Robert Chambers, LL.D.
Chapter I.
Whosoever is fortunate enough to have seen Edinburgh previous to the year 1817—when as yet the greater part of its pristine character was entire, and before the stupendous grandeur, and dense old-fashioned substantiality, which originally distinguished it, had been swept away by the united efforts of fire and foolery—must remember the Old Tolbooth. At the north-west corner of St Giles’s Church, and almost in the very centre of a crowded street, stood this tall, narrow, antique, and gloomy-looking pile, with its black stancheoned windows opening through its dingy walls, like the apertures of a hearse, and having its western gable penetrated by sundry suspicious-looking holes, which occasionally served—horresco referens—for the projection of the gallows. The fabric was four stories high, and might occupy an area of fifty feet by thirty. At the west end there was a low projection of little more than one story, surmounted by a railed platform, which served for executions. This, as well as other parts of the building, contained shops.