The Coolidge examiner., 1933-08-04

TEN, and even its narrowest streets
are kept immaculate.
From Brodie's Close steals steal
thy, sinister figure, all wrapped
round in a black coat. Beneath its
folds he clutches a pistol and
ring of keys. Furtively he enters
this shop and that. Earlier in the
evening-any evening for several
years-a most respectable town
councillor, who also was a deacon of
the Guild Of Wryghts and Masons,
att!red In immaculate tail coat and
breeches might have been seen
leaning against door post where
some merchant had trustfully hung
his keys while he was at his tavern.
Concealed In the palm Of his hand
was a clay mold. From an impress
sion ii was easy TO make a key.
Robberies became so frequent that
the town council called a meeting.
Deacon Brodie gravely counseled
about ways OF stopping the depre-
dations. He thOughtfuny advised
tradesmen about the kinds of bolts
to put on their doors. So jealous
was he that he even went about
while merchants were at dinner TO
make sure their doors were locked
One night a particularly heinous
robbery took place and two cul-
pitts were caught. a third es-
capped. Strangely, the highly re-
spectacle Deacon Brodie also disap-
peared. Stories went around. Ger
tain cronies whispered how the good
deacon gambled with them for high
stakes. Two of his mistresses COM
plained that the kind gentleman had
gone away and made no provision
for them.
Deacon Brodie was apprehended
in Amsterdam, lodged in the grim
Tolbooth, and executed October l,
1873. His skeleton keys now hang
in the Museum of Antiquities. His
strange case" was immortalized by
Stevenson. The fact that he could
operate on such a cramped stage,
scarcely q twenty-minute walk in
any direction from his happy fam
lily fireside, emphasizes the tremen-
dous crowding of the Old Town.
Architecture of Old Times.
The Royal Mile, from Castle Hill,
through Lawnmarket, High street,
and Canongate. is clean today, but
its tenements are just as crowded,
and they justify the modern impli-
cation Of the term, for wealth and
fashion have migrated to the broad
streets and stately squares of the
New Town.
There remain the nodded door
ways, armorial bearings, crests and
texts, the peak gables, the intricate
ly carved finals, the mammoth locks
| and door handles, and the exterior
forestairs, leading up one flight to
the interior turnpike" stairs to the
floors above.
! One architectural feature Is puz-
zling. In some houses there appears
a slit much narrower than other
windows. Inspection discloses that
these apertures light tiny closets
opening off the dining rooms. They
were retreats for the head Of the
house, where he might perform his
| devotions.
From Lawnmarket 1t is only a
short walk to Castle Rock,
whence Edinburgh was hewn, which
anchored the Old Town, which up
lifts the castle whose history spans
half the world.
Standing guard over the opposite
end OF Princes street from Castle
Rock is Calton Hill, affording a view
that reaches out to Fife and the
Ochils. Calton Hill is dotted with an
amazing collection of monumental
and architectural curiosities which,
somehow, seem to achieve harmony.
Beside the incomplete Parthenon
of Craigleith columns, there is a
Nelson monument that shelters a
museum; homely Bobbie Burns is
awarded a copy Of the choragic tenn
pie of Lysicrates; a high school re-
produces the Temple of Theseus at
Athens; there also are an observa-
tory, a burying ground, the tombs
Of Hume and of Stevenson's par
ents, and jailI
Gazing in another direction from
CaltOn Hill, the eye catches lonely
Holyrood, aloof from the city,
crouching under the mighty shad-
! ows Of Salisbury OTEgs.