Day at a Time

By Tweedy

Edinburgh New Town

There’s some symmetrical aspects to the lives of my two paternal great grandfathers, RTP (1865-1942) and WSH (1845 – 1923). Both were born to fathers named James. Neither was born in Edinburgh though both lived, worked and died there. Both were solicitors and, presumably,  successful ones as both lived within the boundary of Edinburgh's New Town.
 
There are some big differences in how their lives began. Born in Partick (Glasgow) RTP's father James was a medical doctor. RTP was one of at least 7 children including what looks like two sets of twins. In the 1871 Census two servants are listed in the household (dates of birth ‘unknown’).
WSH was born in Kirriemuir (Angus). His father James was a linen weaver. In his turn James was the son of a weaver living in a tied farm cottage. It’s a lot harder to find out about the early life of WSH but he too had a good few siblings. As far as I can find out he was the only one who moved far from Kirriemuir and the one whose education gave him the opportunity of a professional life in Edinburgh. 

Today I spent a fascinating though ultimately fruitless session in the City Chambers looking at property archives. I could have taken myself off in many different directions but I'd made up my mind to go and look at some of the New Town properties which my great grandparents called home. First was 2 St Bernard's Crescent ( blipped). In the 1921 census RTP and some of his family, including my grandmother, lived in this elegant  A listed building. They had the ground and basement floors. I rang the bell of the ground floor flat and was invited in by the current  owner. What a delightful woman. I can't thank her enough for allowing me to stand in the very rooms where my forebears lived. 

I then walked to Grosvenor Gardens where WSH and his family, including the grandfather I never met, lived. I walked via Ann Street where RTP had lived at No 32 and Drumsheugh Gardens where I used to work. I might add some extras. Grosvenor Gardens is nice and handy for Haymarket so I walked there, bought a sandwich and hopped onto a train home. 

This long narrative is really for my own records. I realise that family history,  though fascinating to me, is of limited or no interest to anyone else. So if you've ploughed through this great long ramble thanks for reading. 

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