Craiglockhart Hills

The city of Edinburgh is built around seven hills: Calton, Castle, Arthur's Seat, Corstorphine, Blackford, Craiglockhart and Braid. Today I was ticking off my 6th peak in the capital. Only Braid Hill would remain to be scaled. There are actually two Craiglockhart hills, East and West. A three-mile walk from the city centre was required to reach them. Yes, I could have jumped on a bus but I wanted to stretch my legs and take in a few sites of interest along the way. It was a pleasant but blustery day and I arrived at the West End of Princes Street by coach, having left my car at Ferrytoll Park & Ride. I headed up Lothian Road, through Tollcross and Bruntsfield, on towards Morningside. All familiar territory.

Before the Morningside shops, I branched along the lengthy Colinton Road through a part of the city known as Merchiston. I hadn't walked here previously and I wanted to have a quick look at grounds of the Royal Edinburgh Hospital down Tipperlinn Road. I had discovered during my family research that my great grandmother Elizabeth Howieson (nee Forrest) had passed away here in 1947 at the age of 68. She was my mum's paternal gran, although mum never knew her, being just two years old when her gran died. Elizabeth was born in Cadder, Lanarkshire but grew up in West Calder, Midlothian. Her father was a master stonemason and the census shows him working in various places. She married my great grandfather David Howieson in 1898 and - according to family legend - taught him to read and write. David did well for himself in life, as did his three brothers. All four boys were raised in cramped conditions in the shale-mining village of Mossend (now demolished). Four other siblings died from TB in young adulthood and - this just struck me - there but for the grace of God go I. Half a family wiped out and I just happen to descend from those who were spared. How random is that? David started down the pit as a boy but eventually passed his exams to become a colliery manager. I have found reference to him being in charge of several mines and also working as a lecturer. After his death in 1933, Elizabeth was granted a widows pension. I've actually seen a copy of the letter in a box of photos and documents left by my mum's Auntie Jean, who was David's youngest child. From Elizabeth's death certificate, I could see she died at Tipperlinn Road but her usual residence was listed as Hanover Street in the centre of Edinburgh. My mum and I pieced together that she lodged there until being admitted to a psychiatric ward for her final days. The reasons remain unknown. I strolled down Tipperlinn Road and noticed a memorial (pictured above) just inside the hospital grounds. It was dedicated to Philippe Pinel (1745-1826) and erected to mark the centenary of his death. Research revealed he was a French physician who pioneered the humane treatment of the mentally ill. Six plaques below the bust of Pinel commemorated other figures who were instrumental in improving conditions for psychiatric patients, among them Florence Nightingale. The Edinburgh Royal Hospital opened as the Lunatic Asylum in 1813, initially for patients whose families could afford to pay. The West House (now McKinnon House) accommodated poor folk from 1842 onwards. Patients were encouraged to be active, using any existing skills such as gardening, pig farming, carpentry or sewing, and to take part in sports, including curling. A printing press was installed, and a magazine, the Morningside Mirror, produced. At the turn of the 20th century, attitudes towards mental illness were slowly beginning to change. In 1922, the asylum was renamed the Royal Edinburgh Hospital for Mental and Nervous Disorders. The NHS took control in 1948 and a whole suite of specialist units occupy the site, including treatment for alcoholism and young people. Many of these buildings are modern but the old McKinnon House still stands by the entrance.

I'm fairly sure this is where my great gran would have been accommodated. The address on his death certificate is given as 15 Tipperlinn Road and the private houses in the first part of the street run up to number 11. Who knows what state of mind she was in by the end, or whether in fact she was even aware of her condition. All now lost in the mists of time. Delving into family history is something I've found really fulfilling and it's interesting to visit places listed on old documents which are linked to your very being. Time to move along. Right next to the Royal Hospital is George Watson's college - a private school for both boys and girls. Edinburgh has a plethora of these establishments and no doubt the old school tie network has a major influence regarding who gets into certain professions and offices. The general pattern of the stats is well known. A small minority of pupils are privately educated yet they are massively over-represented in fields such as the judiciary, senior politics, finance and academia. Effectively, this relatively tiny group has the biggest say in running the country. All because mum and dad were already wealthy. It's not surprising that these establishments achieve high academic performance. The kids are drawn from backgrounds where reading and learning is valued. If the parents are investing many tens of thousands of pounds over the years in a "good education" for their children, of course they will monitor the situation closely and take a keen interest. Should little Johnny's grades be flagging, you can always throw money at the issue and tutor him up to the eyeballs to get him across the line in the exam. While private schools certainly offer excellent sporting facilities and other extra-curricular events, the myth does sadly persist that they employ the "best teachers". Surely an insult to the thousands of educators working in state schools and delivering results where the odds may be stacked against them. Places like George Watsons make much of their charitable status, which could be more cynically interpreted as a jolly good wheeze to enjoy tax breaks while ushering in a handful of children from less privileged backgrounds by the side door. Something they do very well is imbue that almost undefinable sense of "polish" - which enables young leavers to appear older and wiser beyond their years. Another advantage in the fight to secure places at elite establishments. A Modern Studies teacher once told me how pupils from private schools seem to have an easy ride at events like debating competitions, because they are often judged by the way they say something rather than what they are actually saying. Should we abolish fee-paying schools as part of a "levelling up" agenda? (Food for thought, Boris). Well, I'm not sure you achieve anything by shutting down a well-performing institution just for the sake of it. Rather, the answer perhaps lies in harnessing the expertise and making it accessible to a wider range of people. But one thing the wealthy have evolved to be rather good at is hanging on to their wealth and the status that goes with it. I don't have the answers. Too much philosophy on a day when I've got old buildings to check out.

I was hoping to scout out the old Edinburgh Hydropathic Hospital (pictured right), which lay beyond George Watson's playing fields and is now part of Napier University. A detour to an abandoned mansion was also on the to-do list. As I passed the rugby pitches, I could see the upper parts of a grand building in an elevated position which I initially assumed was the hydropathic site. I later discovered I had my geography slightly muddled and the mansion-style complex was in fact the old Edinburgh Asylum. Also known as Craighouse, it is currently being converted to luxury flats and the first residents have already moved in. Napier added this cluster of buildings to their campus in the early 1990s when the enormous old mental hospitals were closing across the land. Plans were announced in 2011 to develop the site for housing and - after a few years of uncertainty - this project is now underway. The impressive Victorian pile, erected within the grounds of Old Craig House in 1894, was originally a private psychiatric hospital. Created as an annex to the Royal Edinburgh Hospital, it was possibly the most luxurious private mental facility ever built in Britain. There is a website called Canmore that holds images of historic buildings and the interior of Craighouse was certainly opulent. Further along the road, the Hydropathic Hospital was taken over by Napier in 2013 and now functions as a business centre. It finds itself sandwiched between modern university buildings but thankfully the exterior of the old place has been retained. I couldn't fit the entire frontage in my camera frame due to the ground sloping rapidly away beneath me as I tried to find the right angle. Hydrotherapy, also known as hydropathy or, simply water cure, was a fashionable practice in late Victorian times. It uses "healing" waters for pain relief and the treatment of disease. The Craiglockhart Hydropathic Company purchased 13 acres of land and erected a huge Italian style villa to serve as their headquarters. The hospital opened for business in 1880 and the original brochure espoused the extent of the facilities on offer...

The establishment affords to its residents all the amenities and retirement of quiet country life. The interior contains a spacious suite of public rooms opening off a handsome 140-foot corridor and consisting of a dining hall, drawing and reception rooms, consultation room and a magnificent recreation hall. There are several luxuriously furnished parlours and detached suites of private apartments, commanding extensive and charming views.

A commodious billiard room is also provided. Bedrooms are spacious, light and elegantly furnished. Bathing options include a large Turkish bath, ample swimming pool, special varieties of hot and cold plunge, vapour, spray, needle and electrical baths. The gardens extend to 12 acres and feature lawn, shrubberies and ornamental plantation, interspersed with agreeable walks leading to various viewpoints across the city. Various sports are catered for: tennis, croquet, archery and bowling. Residents have the privilege of wandering over the adjoining wooded hill. Winding paths take you to pleasant resting spots among the cliffs.

Sounds like quite a place! It probably didn't come cheap either. Between 1916 and 1919, the hospital was requisitioned by the military and used to care for shell-shocked officers. It was here that the celebrated war-poets Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon became acquainted. Despite the enduring trauma, the few months they spent at Craiglockhart were a productive period for both of them and their work remains influential to this day. Both men eventually returned to the front line and Owen was killed in action during the final week of the hostilities, aged 25. Sassoon survived a serious injury (shot in the head by friendly fire) to live until the age of 80. A ghastly time for humanity and I did find it particularly nauseating when a Christmas TV commercial recently attempted to romanticise life in the trenches. The hospital was returned to its owners in 1920 but attitudes to hydropathy had changed and there was little demand for the services on offer. The business was wound up and the building sold to the Society of the Sacred Heart - an enclosed religious order - to be used as a convent and training college for Catholic teachers. It later served as Craiglockhart College of Education before becoming part of Napier Polytechnic (which later received a university charter). Quite a story! It should be noted the extensive wartime treatment on offer at Craiglockhart was only made available to senior officers. Rank and file men who were visibly reeling from shellshock would merely have been ordered to get on with it. The penalty for non-compliance wasn't an attractive one.

Before I climbed the hill, I wanted to take a look at an abandoned mansion a few streets away. Redhall House dates from 1758 and was built in the style of a French chateau close to the Water of Leith. The house was bought by Edinburgh Council in the 1940s and converted to a children's home. This arrangement ended in the early 70s and a special needs school was built within the grounds. The old house is now owned by a property developer but no progress has been made towards its renovation and the building remains boarded up. It's location in the corner of a modern private housing estate should hopefully deter vandals from visiting on a regular basis. I was in full view of many front windows as I took a few photographs. The walled kitchen garden for the Redhall Estate lies on the other side of the river and is now run by the Scottish Association of Mental Health (SAMH) as an organic horticultural training centre for adults recovering from mental health issues. Up to 36 individuals receive full-time placements. Unfortunately the garden is only open to the public from Monday to Friday, otherwise I would have dropped in for a visit.

And so to the hill climb. There was also the small matter of Craiglockhart Castle. Little more than a stump remains of a tower house that was once four storeys high. It stands on the edge of the university campus and is protected as a Scheduled Monument. A wide gravel path led halfway up the hill and I emerged on the fringe of a golf course. From here, a more informal track snaked upwards but it was straightforward to follow and I was soon strolling towards the summit which offered a brilliant 360-degree panorama of Edinburgh. To the north, I could look across Murrayfield Stadium towards the Firth of Forth. To the west lay the unmistakable mound of Blackford Hill. The castle was especially prominent atop its rock and - for such an easy climb - the rewards are simply breath-taking. Yet how many people have only ever scaled Arthur's Seat or Calton Hill in the city centre, and are completely unaware of the charms of Craiglockhart? I spent a good 20 minutes just appreciating the capital city spreading out below me before the wind chill began to make its presence felt. Time to move along to the smaller eastern summit. The walk took me through a patch of old woodland. Virtually unchanged since the 18th century, the tree canopy is formed by oak, beech, Scots pine, ash and chestnut. The route is known as the Poet's Path, on account of Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon regularly wandering here during their period of recovery. The smaller Craiglockhart peak offers decent views in its own right but is definitely overshadowed by its big brother. Both hills (and the woodland) form a nature reserve but I couldn't help wondering how much better a haven it could be without the bloody golf courses. The incessant thwack reminded me of this constantly. But there is a useful legal precedent governing these matters, loosely translated from the Latin as "we got here first". I wandered down to Craiglockhart Pond. I had noticed it on the map during the planning of this walk and vaguely remembered reading something about ice skating and curling. Nothing out of the ordinary here. What I was about to find out was that the pond and surrounding area once teemed with visitors. An amusement park named Happy Valley was sited here. The story began in 1873 when local businessman and philanthropist John Cox purchased land within the old Craiglockhart Estate and dammed the river valley to create pools for public leisure purposes. Unfortunately, any other plans he may have had were abruptly terminated when he died suddenly the following year. The area remained popular and by the 1930s had begun the transformation into a fairground. The construction of a dancehall augmented the facilities and attracted the top jazz performers of the day. During WW2, the military moved in and used the ponds as a marine testing centre. Sadly, the amusement park never got going again in peacetime and the site was partly redeveloped as a tennis centre. The Scottish Championships were held here for many years until the early 90s and attracted a glut of top players as it proved to be a useful warm-up for Wimbledon. Some of the big names to appear were Fred Perry, Rod Laver, Martina Navratilova, Ivan Lendl, John McEnroe and the perennial crowd pleaser Jimmy Connors. In more recent times, Craiglockhart Tennis Centre was a training base for Andy Murray.

So there you have it. What was originally meant to be a jaunt up a couple of minor hills and a wee look at a couple of old buildings ended up revealing a raft of history I hadn't really anticipated. But therein lies the beauty of walking. Whenever you set foot upon unfamiliar turf, you are sure to learn new facts and see things you hadn't spotted on the map beforehand. Then you research these topics back at home and discover additional facts. It was time to return to the city centre and catch a bus to Fife. I popped into Waitrose for a few things (still something of a novelty to me) and stopped at Bruntsfield Links to eat my sandwiches. I had completed six out of the seven Edinburgh hills and will hopefully tackle Buckstone Snab soon, the highest point in the Braid Hills, which are the most outlying. Who knows what else I will stumble across? I'll probably make a detour in order to have a closer look at the old Craighouse Asylum and take a few pictures. I had accidentally deleted the shots I'd captured today from a distance. Well, you can't win 'em all.