Murder capital ‘Lost’ drawings shed new light on a grim era
Newly-unearthed drawings of 19th century crime scenes shed light on ‘horrendous’ living conditions in Edinburgh
HE was a brave hero who had saved the lives of stricken people from a watery grave – that alone must have made William Lamb an unlikely killer.
And, of course, there was the fact that few murders are committed by men with no arms.
But, in July 1919, the High Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh would be shown a detailed “CSI-style” plan of the crime scene – even down to his victim’s blood stains.
Drawn by James Robertson of the office of the Burgh Engineer of Edinburgh, it showed fine detail of the one-roomed lodgings on the second floor of 88 Candlemaker Row in the capital’s Old Town.
The 102-year-old crime scene plan is just one of several unearthed by John Lowrey, senior lecturer in architectural history at Edinburgh College of Art, as he explored the National Register of Archives for Scotland.
Gathered by police to help with their inquiries and to present during High Court trials, they appear to have been largely overlooked amid the piles of other paperwork for generations.
Now uncovered, the crime scenes shed fresh insight into the desperate lives endured by the city’s folk, usually in chronic poverty, in dilapidated homes and at the mercy of gut-rot whisky sellers.
According to Mr Lowrey, some include rarely-seen fine detail of buildings, including some long since demolished.
As well as helping architectural historians like him piece together a clearer picture of the city’s Victorian buildings, the plans reveal precious insight into how their occupiers lived.
There is also often gruesome detail including murder weapons, bodies and blood splatters.
Grisly ends
WHEN placed alongside other archives such as prison and transportation records, death certificates and often highlydetailed newspaper reports of criminal cases, they reveal a comprehensive image of the people, their homes, their often complex lives, and sometimes their own grisly end.
“These court documents are a rich source of information not just about poverty, disease and crime in the Old Town, but about the buildings and social environment of the time,” says Mr Lowrey.
“Through extensive study of the archive it has been possible to increase our knowledge of the architectural history of the period, thanks in large part to the skills of the artists and record-keepers associated with criminal cases.”
In the case of William Lamb, the crime scene reveals the interior of the cheap lodgings at 88 Candlemaker Row, even down to the décor on the walls.
“The plans are amazingly detailed, you can see framed pictures on the wall, the panelled wall, the windows and the fireplace with matches on the mantlepiece which are there to show the blood spatter,” adds Mr Lowrey, who will discuss his research during an online talk hosted by the Scottish Historic Building Trust.
These court papers shine a light into dark corners of the city by documenting the physical conditions that set the scene to some of the city’s most heinous crimes
‘Lost his arms’
LAMB, whose son told the court had lost his arms after rescuing a number of people from drowning in the River Ness, lived in the Old Town lodgings with his partner, Agnes.
The onset of lockdown last year gave Mr Lowrey time to delve deeper into the online archives and carry out his own detective work piecing together court
reports, maps, sketches and other papers to build up a clear illustration of each case. “While more middle-class written sources, such as official reports, tended to be biased in their treatment of the poor, these court papers shine a light into dark corners of the city by documenting the physical conditions that set the scene to some of the city’s most heinous crimes,” he adds.
One involves the building where Ferguson’s Edinburgh Rock was originally made and which was almost destroyed by an arsonist in 1837.
John Macdonald and his wife, Elizabeth, ran a bookshop in a now demolished area of West Bow beneath Ferguson’s property. Documents uncovered by Mr Lowrey revealed the couple’s unusual living arrangement – their box bed was in the middle of the shop.
‘Up like a bomb’
SUSPICIONS were aroused after Macdonald visited his upstairs neighbour, “Sweetie Sandy”, when he noted his stacks of sugar and commented that they would “go up like a bomb” should they catch fire. “The police are told, and they observe the shop,” Mr Lowrey adds. “They see him and his wife setting a fire in the box bed.”
The police swooped and the fire was extinguished before it could engulf the home of one of Edinburgh’s best loved treats. In return, the couple paid a high price for their crime: both were transported. Sarah Brannan Davidson confessed to stabbing her husband, John, and was sentenced to transportation for life. Many of the cases tell dreadful stories of poverty, domestic abuse and murder at a time when Edinburgh’s New Town housed some of the nation’s brightest minds.
John Lowery will discuss his research in an event on Wednesday, hosted by the Scottish Historic Building Trust, which has recently been given the go-ahead to restore the Old Town’s Tron Kirk. Tickets for his talk, Recording Poverty And Murder In Edinburgh Old Town, are available through Eventbrite.