Number 13 - Information on residents

1804 – 1807 William and Barbara (May) Beveridge

William Beveridge was a Solicitor (WS) and the son of a law writer. He and Barbara married in 1791, and they moved into the newly built Albany Street house with their children. Sadly, William died in 1807, aged only 43, and his wife moved to Castle Street, and died in 1822. Barbara died in 1822.

Their eldest son, also William, became an officer in the East India Company’s Bengal Army, and died at Meerut in 1827, aged 28. James followed his father into law, becoming a solicitor (WS) in 1826. He married twice: to Louise Fuche and then Matilda Wynne. He died in 1869.

Their daughter, Euphemia, married William Owen Davies in 1824. William was under the guardianship of his uncle, Robert Owen, then living at New Lanark. Robert Owen married Caroline Dale, the daughter of the proprietor of New Lanark mills, and became manager and part-owner of the mills in 1810. There he began to improve the lives of those working and living at New Lanark by introducing environmental, educational and work-place improvements. He published A New View of Society in 1816, a rallying call for widespread social change, with education at its core. New Lanark, the test-bed for his ideas, became internationally famous, and is a World Heritage site today.

Following their marriage, William and Euphemia emigrated to Australia as ‘free settlers’, sailing there on the ship, Portland, from Leith. They lived in Parramatta, Sydney where William first got a job as a school-teacher. They had six children, although some did not survive infancy. William later became a ‘writing clerk’, a job that involved being witness to legal transactions, and in 1837 he was arrested on a charge of perjury, and convicted. However, the conviction was quashed on a legal technicality. One newspaper expressed the general outrage at the decision: ‘How can any man who sees the ends of justice defeated by such a contemptible quibble, have any respect for the excellence of the British Constitution, or the purity of the British Law. In Britain, where the good preponderate over the bad in the scale of society, it would be a matter of less regret to see a villain escape punishment by such means, because public opinion would operate as a punishment to a considerable extent; but, here, where the greater the “blackguard”, the more readily he finds companions to cry " hail, fellow, well met," the quashing of the conviction, ceases the punishment, and the culprit who to-day escapes by such a chance from justice, holds his head as high to-morrow, as if instead of incurring disgrace, he had added a new feather to his cap.’

Perhaps William’s place in society was adversely affected, for he died a few years later, in 1840. One can only wonder how Euphemia fared during this time. One hopes that her second marriage in 1845, to Robert Bonnor, a farmer in Bathurst, New South Wales, was less upsetting. Although the marriage in 1846, by special licence, of her eldest daughter, at the time only 13 years of age, to the son of her new husband in 1846 may not have been without its upset. Euphimia died in 1869.

Having recovered from his flu James visited Mr Gloag, who expressed himself more than happy for James to ask Anne to marry. So James arranged to travel again Glasgow a few days later to meet Anne, but his chill returned. ‘My dear Miss Anne, The slight cold which I had caught increased so much yesterday, that I was under the necessity of sending an apology for not dining abroad, and have been confined to bed with it all day. Mr. Russell, who has been with me, says that there is nothing material the matter with me, but that I must keep the house for some time. I shall therefore be prevented from doing myself the pleasure of breakfasting with you to-morrow morning. I regret this exceedingly, as I have much to say to you, which must be delayed till I have an opportunity of seeing you, which I sincerely trust will be very soon. It made me extremely happy to learn from the conversation I had with Mr. Gloag yesterday, that the proposal I had the honour of making you, met with his and your sister's approbation. He mentioned a wish of your's to which I most heartily assent, that we should have no company on Sundays. I never have been accustomed to have Company on that day, hitherto generally dining with my father at Pilrig, and I humbly flatter myself that when we come to talk upon the subject of Religion, our sentiments will be found completely to coincide. I beg to mention, My dear Anne, because I think it will give you pleasure, that my mother, to whom I last night related what was going forward, is quite rejoiced at the prospect of getting you for a Daughter. Yours most affectionately, Jas. Balfour, Junr.’

The delayed meeting clearly did not cause any problems for when he eventually proposed, Anne accepted. They arranged to marry in Glasgow soon after. But the day before the marriage, the unfortunate James was in bed again with ‘accursed influenza, which it seems is raging at present.' James hurried off another letter of postponement: 'My dearest Love, - I would fain write to you in spirits, but my mind is ill at ease indeed. To have the Cup of Bliss dashed from my lips, when so nearly beginning to sip, is more than my Philosophy can bear up against. You cannot conceive how distressed I am, in having to put off our Nuptials, not only on account of its being an event on the Compleation of which I have built the hopes of the Highest happiness, but much more so, lest the circumstance may have occasioned the smallest uneasiness to you.’

Fortunately, weddings at the time were simple affairs, so easily re-arranged. Yet even by the standards of the day, James’ approach appears a little casual: ‘I Propose leaving this early on Monday morning, so as to be at Glasgow by One o'clock, when the Ceremony can take place about two. But I would not have you at present, make any arrangements either as to this, or any engagements with our friends, until you hear from me again, which you shall by the Saturday evening's post, by which time I shall be able to write with greater precision upon all these points.'

His next letter is no less casual about the arrangements, and his ardour is now constrained by a possible delay due to business matters. ‘I hope to reach Glasgow before dinner on Monday. The ceremony can then be either that evening or next morning — the morning would be perhaps best, as I might be late due to business affairs.’ Anne clearly was extremely forbearing. Luckily, the business was swiftly taken care of, and James was there in time for them to be married on the Monday evening.

Before buying the Albany Street house, James had looked at other properties: 'I went and looked at the house in Northumberland Street. It is a very grand one, but I fear too expensive.’ When they moved in the happy couple enjoyed setting up their new home as James recounts: ‘I have found the carpet laid in the dining-room — it looks most beautiful; the bed was also put up, and is extremely grand!’ Friends were invited to see the new house: ‘I had Mr. Gloag, Ferguson, and Gilbert Bertram dining with me; they were most unmerciful in the wine way - they had no less than seven bottles.’ They inherited a cat but the pet's time in Albany Street was short: ‘Gray, our Uncle's favourite Cat, having lived to a considerable old age with much usefulness to society, departed this life a few evenings ago, much lamented by all who knew him; and his remains were accompanied to the grave by a numerous train of unfeigned mourners.’ Perhaps as a result of too many instances of sharing seven bottles of wine, James begins to worry about his weight: 'I have altered my system of living this week. I have given up marmalade and bacon, and take nothing but a little milk and water to my breakfast, upon which I am thriving so amazingly.’

On his father's death, James inherited Pilrig House and the family left Albany Street to live there. By this time Anne already had borne five children, though two had died as infants. Perhaps on one of his many visits to Pilrig House a young boy heard his Uncle James and Aunt Anne recall with amusement their youthful emotional letters and the anxious wait for replies, for when older, the boy, Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson, ended his novel Kidnapped with the hero David Balfour being given a letter to deliver to his Uncle James Balfour at Pilrig House.

Balfour did not sell the house but leased it.

1827 – 1834 Anna (neé Crymble) Dickson & 1830 – 1834 David Somerville Ronaldson Dickson

Anna was the wife of David S Ronaldson Dickson, and she may have come to live in Edinburgh a few years before her husband as he was a Lieutenant with the Second Dragoons, the Royal Scots Greys, and possibly serving abroad until 1830. Anna returned to Scotland as ,they had six young children requiring schooling. Living with her in Albany Street was Anna's mother, Clementina Crymble and she, and one young daughter of the Dickosns, died in the house in 1833.

David’s family had owned the estate of Blairhall, near Culross, Fife, but this was sold to Sir Robert Preston. Mrs Dickson’s name appears as someone helping with events to raise funds for good causes. In her case, she was a receiving address for items for a ‘Sale of Ladies Work’ to support the establishment of small travelling libraries of ‘useful Gaelic books’.

The family moved to Henderson Row and in 1837 immigrated to Paris in Ontario, Canada as David was given land as an ex-officer in the Royal Scots Greys. David died soon after arriving. Anna became a key figure in building a church in Paris, with money being collected in Edinburgh to assist. The church was completed in 1839 but Anna and the new minister clashed, although the Bishop took her side, writing to the minister, 'More has been done for you through the influence of Mrs. Dickson & others than for any one Mission in Upper Canada & yet you cannot procure a stove pipe.'

1834 – 1839 William Pattison and George H. Pattison

William Pattison owned a company that provided window and bottle glass. His brother, George, was an Advocate. In 1839, when George was dealing with the affairs of Andrew Maclehose, a WS who had just died, he came across a bundle of correspondence between his Maclehose’s mother, Agnes ‘Nancy’ Maclehose, and Robert Burns. George saved these and they were later published. It was only in 2013 that a letter came to light that explained how Mrs Maclehose had ended up with the letters that she had written to Burns, as well as his to her. The discovered letter was from Nancy to Burns’ friend and doctor, William Maxwell, three months after the poet’s death in 1796. Maxwell had been at Burns’ side when he died, and Nancy asked him if he would return the intimate letters she had written to Burns, presumably because she was concerned at their intimate content. She also added a postscript that ‘an account of our late friend's final scene, if it is not too bold to ask for, would be considered a singular favour’.

Coincidentally, Burns knew the Pattison’s uncle, William, who was the Minister at the Low Church in Paisley, and he mentions meeting the minister in one of his letters to Nancy: ‘In Paisley, where I arrived next day, my worthy, wise friend Mr Pattison did not allow me a moment’s respite….Mr. P was bred a zealous Antiburgher [a group that broke away from the established Church] but, during his widowhood, he had found their strictness incompatible with certain compromises he is often obliged to make with the power of darkness – the devil, the world and the flesh: so he, good, merciful man! Talked privately to me of the absurdity of eternal torments; the liberality of sentiment in indulging in the honest instincts of nature; the mysteries of ***** etc.’ Burns then recounts that ‘After two bottles more’ the Minister tried to talk him into marrying a girl he knew. The story of Agnes ‘Nancy’ Maclehose could be the plot of a Victorian novel. Nancy grew up in Glasgow and was accounted to be ‘one of the beauties of Glasgow’. James Maclehose, a young law agent, took a fancy to her, and hearing she was to travel to Edinburgh booked all the seats in the stagecoach so that he was the only other passenger. By this romantic device he won her hand and although only seventeen, Nancy married James in 1776. However, after only four years Nancy left him: ‘I perceived, with inexpressible regret, that our dispositions, tempers and sentiments, were so totally different, as to banish all hopes of happiness. Our disagreements rose to such a height, and my husband’s treatment so harsh, that it was thought advisable by my friends a separation should take place.’ To be clear of him, Nancy moved to Edinburgh. There was a tussle over who should look after the young children, but eventually he left them in her care. However, he did not provide any financial assistance, and departed for Jamaica. In 1787, Nancy met Robert Burns. She had taken to writing to poetry and in Burns’ first letter to her (in the correspondence she is named ‘Clarinda’ and he ‘Sylvander’) he wrote: ‘I wrote some lines, which I enclose you, as I think they have a good deal of poetic merit; and Miss Nimmo tells me that you are not only a critic but a poetess.’ As the relationship evolved the letters more than hint that Burns was seeking more than mere friendship as this extract from one of her letters to him indicates: ‘Your “ravings” last night, and your ambiguous remarks upon them, I cannot, but ought not to comprehend. I am your friend, Sylvander; take care lest virtue demand even friendship as a sacrifice. You need not curse the tie of human laws; since what is the happiness Clarinda would derive from being loosed?’ In December 1787, Burns wrote to a close confidant, Captain Richard Brown: ‘Almighty Love still “reigns and revels” in my bosom; and I am at this moment ready to hang myself for a young Edinr. Widow, who has wit and beauty more murderously fatal than the assassinating stiletto of the Sicilian banditti, or the poisoned arrow of the savage African.’

In January 1788 Nancy’s letter suggests that something more had occurred between the two. ‘'I will not deny it, Sylvander, last night was one of the most exquisite I ever experienced. Few such fall to the lot of mortals! Few, extremely few, are formed to relish such refined enjoyment. That it should be so, vindicates the wisdom of Heaven. But though our enjoyment did not lead beyond the limits of virtue, yet to-day's reflections have not been altogether unmixed with regret.' However, Burns’ apparent devotion to his Clarinda did not stop him from having sex at this time with Jenny Clow, a servant girl, that led to her having his child. Nor, a few months later, marrying Jean Armour.

‘Clarinda’ and ‘Sylvaner’ met for the last time in December 1791, and a few weeks afterwards Burns sent Nancy Ae fond kiss, his most heart-aching song of parting. A month after this meeting, Nancy sailed to Jamaica in an attempt to patch up her marriage to James who now lived there. By chance she travelled on the Roselle, a ship Burns himself had once considered emigrating on. However, not only was her husband not on the quayside to meet her, but she discovered that he had a slave Mistress, Ann Chalon Rivvere, who had borne him a daughter. Realising that reconciliation was impossible, she sailed back to Scotland three months later.

While Nancy and Burns exchanged a few friendly letters on her return, they did not meet again. In her journal on 6th December 1831, Nancy wrote: ‘This day I can never forget. Parted with Burns, in the year 1791, never more to meet in this world. Oh, may we meet in Heaven!'

1839 – 1848 Mary Scott (until 1841) and her son Ebeneezer Scott

Mary Scott was the widow of John Scott. Her son, Ebeenezer, was an accountant and later moved to Dundee where he became the accountant to the East of Scotland Life Assurance Company in Dundee. He published the book, Tables of Logarithms and Anti-Logarithms to Five Places and was a Fellow of the faculty of Actuaries.

1849 – 1861 Lodgings

These were run by Helen and Margaret Inglis until 1855.

1851 - 1854 Lodger - William and Jane Murray

William Murray was an advocate and owned a country property, Geanies, near Tain: ‘a handsome mansion, beautifully situated on the shore of the Moray Firth.’ A Scotsman article reports on a dispute between Murray and Sir James Matheson, the MP in Ross and Cromarty, over the repeal of the Corn Laws. Matheson, unusually for a major land owner, was in favour but Murray, more normally for a land-owner of the time, objected. It is clear whose side the newspaper writer is on: ‘(Mr Murray’s) signature is certainly a very enticing one, artfully designed, one might almost think, to procure readers to believe the effusions were from the clever and sprightly pen of the first living of comedians. That would be a great mistake indeed – this “W. H. Murray” being as solemn as an owl, and just as pleasant and instructive. ..(perhaps he) is not in reality the absurd and inflated person he makes himself appear on paper.’ We hope Murray was more engaging that the article writer imagined, as in 1854 he delivered a lecture at the Tain Mechanics' Institution entitled Notes of a Tour in North America.

From 1855 – 1861 the lodgings were run by Robert and Janet Cooper. Their lodgers at the 1861 census were Thomas and Elizabeth Park, fundholders; William Fortune, a farmer and landowner from Largo, Fife, his wife, Mary, their four infant children and Sarah Rentoul, a young nurse; and Mary Fisher, a Ladies Nurse.

The range of activities he was involved in support one commentator’s view that Thoms took a lively interest in others. This is further exemplified by his promotion of an Orkney chair maker. In the 1870s, David Kirkness opened a workshop in Kirkwall, in partnership with his brother William. Kirkness was a skilled joiner and among the objects he made were refined versions of the traditional Orkney chairs that local farmers and fishermen had made for centuries. With a lack of trees on the islands, Orcadians made their chairs from driftwood and woven straw left over from growing oats. The straw was secured with a tough grass that they twisted into string. Many of the chairs are known for their high, rounded woven straw backs, which provide shelter from draughts, and often have drawers beneath the seats. Thoms bought one for his own use, and soon after asked Kirkness to make him another, as Thoms wanted to show them both at a forthcoming exhibition of Scottish goods in Edinburgh. After some wrangling over whether the new chair should have a drawer (Kirkness wanted one, but Thoms didn’t), it was dispatched to Edinburgh. In June 1890, Kirkness received a letter from Thoms congratulating him on ‘a rare piece of good fortune’. This was a large order from Liberty, the fashionable London department store, and at the time at the centre of the Arts and Crafts movement. Orders poured in, and Kirkness had to outsource the making of the straw backs to local people throughout the islands. The Orkney chairs made by Kirkness were sold all over the world, and the one bought by Augustus John is now owned by the Victoria & Albert Museum. The large demand made it difficult for the Kirkness workshop to keep up with production until he decided to focus on four designs, which enabled production to be increased. Although similar chairs were produced elsewhere in the Scottish islands, Kirkness ensured that the design came to be closely associated with Orkney.

On his retirement in 1899, after 29 years as Sheriff of Caithness, Orkney and Shetland, there was a presentation to Thoms: ‘while your aim has always been the maintenance of the dignity of the judicator, and the impartial administration of the law, you were not insensible to the importance of the good relations and cordial understanding between bench and bar. We record our appreciation of that spirit of beneficence which you have exercised towards institutions and objects in Orkney you thought deserving of your sympathy and worthy of your help.’ Four years later, after a period of extremely poor health, Thoms died. He had never married and in his will a substantial part of his estate (£60,000) was left to St Magnus Cathedral in Kirkwall, Orkney to create a window in memory of him, and the residue to help with the cathedral’s upkeep.

Soon after, a nephew, Alfred Thomas, brought an action to have Thoms’ legacy to St Magnus Cathedral reduced, and part of the estate to be passed to him and three nieces. Their case hinged on the fact that previously their uncle had included them in his will, but in his last years, they claimed, Thoms had been unduly influenced by a servant, who had led Thoms to cut his relatives from the will and instead leave the bulk to the cathedral and a balance to the servant. The jury were asked to decide if Thoms had been ‘weak and facile of mind’ and, if so, dismiss his last changed will.

In the court case, the pursuers’ counsel touched on none of Thoms’ extensive legal career or his beneficial support of various institutions. Instead, they set out to undermine his reputation and convince the court that Thoms as mad. This was not unachievable, for Thoms was certainly an eccentric, and clearly a joker whose behaviour must have struck those with a limited sense of humour as close to lunacy.

A doctor who had treated Thoms in earlier years stated: ‘By his conversation and some of his actions, I think he was the most eccentric gentleman I ever attended to. Though I am not speaking of insane gentlemen.’ Servants commented on his oddities: ‘He carried a quantity of camphor which he described as an antidote to matrimonial infection. He had the idea that ladies’ hearts got cracked, and always carried small rolls gutta-percha for the purpose of mending them. He also sometimes said his heart was cracked, and he had a metal broken heart at the end of his watch chain.’ ‘He carried a tawse [belt used by teachers to punish pupils] in his pocket, and he applied this to the children of his friends and relations. He told children that if they were good, it would keep them good, and if they were naughty, it would made them good.’ ‘He wished to be buried in a wicker basket coffin, so as to have a chance to be in early at the general scramble at the resurrection.’ ‘He had a list of rules for the house printed and fines were imposed for disobedience. He even imposed fines on his cat, Sambo, if it disturbed the house.’ ‘His bed in his bedroom had a mirror on the top, so he could see himself in the glass overhead.’ Mention was also made of Thoms belief that he was the Clan Chief of the MacThomas Clan, although no evidence for this existed.

When Counsel for the Cathedral came to sum up, he disparaged the pursuers’ attempts to paint Thoms’ eccentricities as the acts of a lunatic. ‘The ladies of his house enjoyed his rules. One of his rules was that the table maid was to keep the pantry like Paradise, and the story was that one night the Sheriff found her sweetheart in the pantry and that the table maid pleaded that Paradise without Adam would be no Paradise at all…. As to the cat. Well a good many things which happen in houses where evidence is not very clear are attributed to the cat. …What would like be without some peculiarities? It would be hum-drum, and people would be afraid to lead anything but a humdrum life for fear of being called insane.’ Finally, the counsel asked the jury: ‘to bring in a verdict which would not prejudice the memory of a notable public servant, a man whose dying benefaction was one of which the whole country was proud.’

In his summing up the Lord Advocate added: ‘It rather seems that at times the Sheriff got out of the role of low comedian and got into cap and bells. But do you, the jury, think that that had much to do with the question of his capacity. Stress has been laid upon his belief that he was Head of the Clan MacThomas, but I am afraid that if insanity is to be attributed to those who believed their ancestors were great persons, there are a great many people going about who ought to be in a lunatic asylum. The questions you have to keep in mind are, firstly, had Sheriff Thoms no mind at the date of this will of 1904, and, second, was he weak and facile.’

The jury took just twenty five minutes to reject the pursuers’ case, and so St Magnus Cathedral received its bequest, and its East Window is dedicated to Thoms. Intriguingly, the agents acting for the Burgh of Kirkwall and the Cathedral in defence of the bequest were the firm of Simpson and Marwick, whose Scottish Property offices are today in Albany Street.

1861 - 1894 Dr Lewis Hay and Susan (neé Durie) Thatcher & 1885 - 1894 Dr Charles and Emily (neé Nelson) Thatcher

The Thatchers and their two young sons moved here from Picardy Place. Two more children were born in the house. Dr Lewis Hay Thatcher was a doctor of midwifery as his father had been. His father lectured on the subject and Dr James Young Simpson (who lived for a time at Number 22) attended some of his lectures.

Lewis became a physician at the Edinburgh Lying-In Institution. Established in 1824, the Institution assisted in helping the births of ‘poor married women at their own house.’ It also had: ‘a Committee of Thirty-Six Ladies, who visit the most needy applicants, and supply them and their infants, with clothing and other necessaries during the period of their accouchement. The visitors also take every opportunity of promoting the religious and moral improvement of those relieved.’ Thatcher regularly advertised classes in midwifery for nurses and midwives.

In 1874 he narrowly avoided serious injury when the carriage he was travelling in was hit as it travelled up Leith Walk by a horse and cart that had broken away from its stance. The horse was seriously injured but Thatcher ‘escaped with a shaking’. When he died in 1876 his obituary said: ‘Thatcher, although a skilful and dexterous obstetrician like his father, did not confine himself exclusively to that department, but came to be regarded as a well-informed and sagacious physician, who took a friendly interest in his patients, and spared himself neither trouble nor fatigue in promoting their welfare. He was honourable and considerate in all matters of professional etiquette. He had a genial humour — always a good sign of a man; told a story well, almost dramatically; and had a decided taste for the fine arts.’

Susan Thatcher died in 1890.

The eldest son, also Lewis Hay, also became a doctor, and died in 1903.

Charles became the third generation of the family to practice as an obstetrician. He worked for the Central Midwives Board for Scotland, and became the examiner in Midwifery and Gynaecology at Edinburgh’s Royal College of Physicians. In 1916 he signed to undertake part-time work as part of the First World War Medical Recruiting Scheme. He and his wife, Emily, lived in the house from 1885, and then moved to Melville Crescent. They had at least one son, again named Lweis Hay, and he too became a doctor. During the First World War he worked in the Royal Hospital for Sick Casualties and continued in his medical career after the war.

John, who married Helen Daly, became a tea-planter in Ceylon. No information found for the daughter, Joanna.

1894 – 1897 William Brock

William Brock was the Medical Officer for Mid- and West Lothians and Peeblesshire, and his role was to improve public health. One issue he dealt with was the negative environmental impact of mining on the quality of river waters. In a number of rivers in the area fish stocks were almost completely wiped out. In 1892 Brock surveyed the Almond River and described the river’s extremely poor water quality: ‘The water along its whole course has an ochry colour. Fish cannot live in it. Horses, cattle and sheep drink sparingly of it, if at all, and for industrial purposes it is almost useless on account of its destructive effects upon boilers.’

Brock moved to Manor Place.

1897 – 1904 Apartments

These were run by three sisters in their thirties, Violet, Isabella and Flora Elphinstone. They moved here from Number 39 where they had run a similar establishment. Then in 1904 they moved again, this time to Number 41, where they ran their apartments until 1925.

One lodger, who died in the house in 1898, was George Waterston, a retired banker from Inverness.

1887 –1903 Lodger - William Galbraith Miller

When the apartments moved from Number 39 to here, a long-standing lodger, William Miller, moved too. He was an advocate and lectured at Glasgow University on Public Law, the Philosophy of Law and International Private Law. In 1903 he published The Data of Jurisprudence. Clearly a man who did not take life too seriously he also published, though anonymously, The Points of Leading cases in Private International Law done into Doggerel. One example:

There once was a lady called Stavert;

With divorce she her husband would have at:

But his domicil

Was an English one still,

And so the Scotch Courts he did laugh at.