An Autobiography [49]
fire-engines of Edinburgh and the neighbourhood were collected round the buildings, and played water upon the flames, but without effect. Whole ranges of lofty old houses were roaring with fire. In the course of two or three hours, several acres, covered by the loftiest and most densely crowded houses in the High Street, were in a blaze. Some of them were of thirteen stories. Floor after floor came crashing down, throwing out a blaze of embers. The walls of each house acted as an enormous chimney --the windows acting as draught-holes. The walls, under the intense heat, were fluxed and melted into a sort of glass. The only method of stopping the progress of the fire was to pull down the neighbouring houses, so as to isolate the remaining parts of the High Street.
As the parapet of the grand old tower of the High Church, St. Giles, was near the site of the fire,--so near as to enable one to look down into it,--my father obtained permission to ascend, and I with him. When we emerged from the long dark spiral stairs on to the platform on the top of the tower, we found a select party of the most distinguished inhabitants looking down into the vast area of fire; and prominent among them was Sir Walter Scott. At last, after three days of tremendous efforts, the fire was subdued; but not till after a terrible destruction of property. The great height of the ruined remains of the piles of houses rendered it impossible to have them removed by the ordinary means. After several fruitless attempts with chains and ropes, worked by capstans, to pull them down, gunpowder was at last resorted to. Mines were dug under each vast pile; one or two barrels of gunpowder were placed into them and fired; and then the before solid masses came tumbling down amidst clouds of dust. The management of this hazardous but eventually safe process was conducted by Captain Basil Ball. He ordered a crew of sailors to be brought up from the man-of-war guardship in the Firth of Forth; and by their united efforts the destruction of the ruined walls was at last successfully accomplished.
In the autumn of 1823, when I was fifteen years old, I had a most delightful journey with my father. It was the first occasion on which I had been a considerable distance from home. And yet the journey was only to Stirling. My father had received a commission to paint a view of the castle as seen from the ruins of Cambuskenneth Abbey, situated a few miles from the town. We started from Newhaven by a small steamboat, passing, on our way up the Firth, Queensferry, Culross, and Alloa. We then entered the windings of the river, from which I saw the Ochils, a noble range of bright green mountains. The passage of the steamer through the turns and windings of the Forth was most interesting.
We arrived at Stirling, and at once proceeded to Cambuskenneth Abbey, where there was a noble old Gothic tower. This formed the foreground of my father's careful sketch, with Stirling Castle in the background, and Ben Lomond with many other of the Highland mountains in the distance. As my father wished to make a model of the Gothic tower, he desired me to draw it carefully, and to take the dimensions of all the chief parts as well as to make detailed sketches of its minor architectural features. It was a delightful autumn afternoon, and, before the day had closed, our work at the abbey was done. We returned to Stirling and took a walk round the castle to see the effect of the sun setting behind the Highland mountains.
Next morning we visited the castle. I was much interested with the interior, especially with a beautifully decorated Gothic oratory or private chapel, used by the Scottish kings when they resided at Stirling. The oratory had been converted with great taste into an ante-drawingroom of the governor's house. The exquisite decorations of this chapel* [footnote... This exquisite specimen of a carved oak Gothic apartment had a terrible incident in Scottish history connected with it. It was in this place that The Douglas intruded his presence on James the
As the parapet of the grand old tower of the High Church, St. Giles, was near the site of the fire,--so near as to enable one to look down into it,--my father obtained permission to ascend, and I with him. When we emerged from the long dark spiral stairs on to the platform on the top of the tower, we found a select party of the most distinguished inhabitants looking down into the vast area of fire; and prominent among them was Sir Walter Scott. At last, after three days of tremendous efforts, the fire was subdued; but not till after a terrible destruction of property. The great height of the ruined remains of the piles of houses rendered it impossible to have them removed by the ordinary means. After several fruitless attempts with chains and ropes, worked by capstans, to pull them down, gunpowder was at last resorted to. Mines were dug under each vast pile; one or two barrels of gunpowder were placed into them and fired; and then the before solid masses came tumbling down amidst clouds of dust. The management of this hazardous but eventually safe process was conducted by Captain Basil Ball. He ordered a crew of sailors to be brought up from the man-of-war guardship in the Firth of Forth; and by their united efforts the destruction of the ruined walls was at last successfully accomplished.
In the autumn of 1823, when I was fifteen years old, I had a most delightful journey with my father. It was the first occasion on which I had been a considerable distance from home. And yet the journey was only to Stirling. My father had received a commission to paint a view of the castle as seen from the ruins of Cambuskenneth Abbey, situated a few miles from the town. We started from Newhaven by a small steamboat, passing, on our way up the Firth, Queensferry, Culross, and Alloa. We then entered the windings of the river, from which I saw the Ochils, a noble range of bright green mountains. The passage of the steamer through the turns and windings of the Forth was most interesting.
We arrived at Stirling, and at once proceeded to Cambuskenneth Abbey, where there was a noble old Gothic tower. This formed the foreground of my father's careful sketch, with Stirling Castle in the background, and Ben Lomond with many other of the Highland mountains in the distance. As my father wished to make a model of the Gothic tower, he desired me to draw it carefully, and to take the dimensions of all the chief parts as well as to make detailed sketches of its minor architectural features. It was a delightful autumn afternoon, and, before the day had closed, our work at the abbey was done. We returned to Stirling and took a walk round the castle to see the effect of the sun setting behind the Highland mountains.
Next morning we visited the castle. I was much interested with the interior, especially with a beautifully decorated Gothic oratory or private chapel, used by the Scottish kings when they resided at Stirling. The oratory had been converted with great taste into an ante-drawingroom of the governor's house. The exquisite decorations of this chapel* [footnote... This exquisite specimen of a carved oak Gothic apartment had a terrible incident in Scottish history connected with it. It was in this place that The Douglas intruded his presence on James the