Edinburgh's lost street 'The Void' found behind a library door

Within the depth of the nation’s great library, there is a little door.

From there, you can enter ‘The Void’ - a segment of a lost street in Scotland’s capital where life was lived, ale was drunk and executions were once completed in front of thousands.

Dowie's Tavern, Libberton's Wynd by George Cattermole shows the Old Town street that disappeared and its most famous hostelry. | CC

Earlier known as Libberton’s Wynd, the street disappeared with the the construction of George IV Bridge in the 1830s with The Void found several stories beneath the library entrance.

But life in the Wynd has come to the fore once more as National Library of Scotland (NLS) staff open up their archives on the street that vanished from view.

READ MORE: The lost vision of Edinburgh’s ‘new New Town’

Robbie Mitchell, a reference services assistant at NLS, said: “Although not a preserved street like Mary Stair’s Close, this nevertheless offers us a glimpse of the Edinburgh of centuries ago.

“There are several maps and accounts of the Old Town in the library’s collections, which help us build an atmospheric picture of the neighbourhood on which both George IV Bridge and the library now stand and what was there before ‘The Void’”

Today, the lost street is home, not to alehouses and executions, but giant water tanks which form part of the library’s sprinkler system. ‘The Void’ was rediscovered in the 1990s by library staff who broke down a small hatch behind a set of filing cabinets.

Libberton's Wynd from the Cowgate. The street vanished from view with the building of George IV Bridge in the 1830s. | CC

A passageway emerged where old rotten furniture, ledgers, shoes and a slate urinal were found. A door was later placed across the entrance.

Libberton’s Wynd was lost from view as city rulers built upon the success of the New Town and moved ahead with improvements across the capital, chiefly to open up an easier route between the Royal Mile and the south of Edinburgh, which was divided by the Cowgate valley.

George IV Bridge was built following the 1827 Edinburgh Improvement Act.

The arrival of the bridge meant the loss of many Old Town neighbourhoods, including Libberton’s Wynd, which was demolished alongwith several other streets.

According to accounts, Libberton’s Wynd was “broader than a close”, with the street left without “all trace of sunshine”, apart from around noon given its stone mansions and timber gables that blocked out much natural light for most of the day.

An execution at Libberton's Wynd. It was here that murderer and bodysnatcher hanged on January 28, 1829. | CC

Meanwhile, it was considered “risky” to travel up the Wynd between ten and 11 o’clock at night given “certain domestic proceedings”.

Mr Mitchell said: “The surrounding tall tenements were densely populated – with several families living on each floor – and so before they went to bed they would empty the contents of their slop buckets and latrines out the window with a cry of “Gardyloo!”

Libberton’s Wynd was well known in the city for other reasons. At the point where the street met the Lawnmarket, the capital’s gallows could be found, with crowds of several thousands often gathering here to watch the condemned meet their death.

Among those to die here was the body-snatcher and murderer William Burke, who hanged on January 28, 1829.

A newspaper account of Burke’s last minutes said: “When proceeding up Libberton's Wynd, he seemed perfectly cool and self possessed, turning from side to side, and conversing with the Rev. Messrs. Reid and Stewart, and the Rev. Mr. Marshall.

“In crossing from the lock-up-house to the postern entrance in Libberton's Wynd, to where the pathway was wet from the rain and thaw of the morning, he was observed picking his steps with the greatest care.

“When he arrived at the bead of Libberton's Wynd, his face had an expression of wistfulness and anxiety, as if he were uneasy and uncertain of his reception from the mob, and he hurried on with his eyes half closed, eager apparently to bring the fatal scene to a speedy close.”

Mr Mitchell said the Wynd was also famed for one of the city’s best-known hostelries, which was known as “the resort of all the revelling wits of the Toon”.

Traces of the lively culture of Libberton’s Wynd are found in John Kay’s famous Series of Original Portraits and Caricature Etchings. It includes a picture of the vinter Mr John Dowie, who owned a tavern and was considered “the sleekest and kindest of landlords”.

Dowie always wore “a cocked hat, buckles at the knees and shoes, as well as a cross-handled cane, over which he stooped in his gait”.

Johnnie Dowie’s Tavern, which was previously known as The Mermaid, was recalled as a “dark and plain and old-fashioned house as any drunken lawyer could have wished to settle in”, according to research by Mr Mitchell.

The “place of old standing” was “particularly celebrated for the excellence of its ale, Nor’ Loch trout, and Welsh rarebit”.

The landlord’s most popular drink was the Edinburgh Ale brewed and supplied by Mr Archibald Younger, “a potent fluid which almost glued the lips of the drinker together, and of which few, therefore, could dispatch more than a bottle”.

Mr Mitchell said descriptions of the tavern give an impression of the claustrophobic confines of the Old Town.

Around 14 people could fit in the main room with the smaller rooms taking around six customers each. They were so “dingy and dark” that even in broad daylight the spaces demanded artificial light.

Nevertheless, it was a house of “much respectability” where the “chief wits and men of letters” gathered for their meridians - or midday drams - excellent cheer and good company.

Further research by Mr Mitchell found Dowie’s patrons likely included the poet Robert Fergusson; David Herd, collector of Scottish Songs and Music; George Paton, a noted antiquary, and George Martin, Writer-to-the-Signet.

“Dowie’s Tavern was also widely believed to be the favourite drinking den of Robert Burns during his sojourn in Edinburgh in 1786,” Mr Mitchell added.

While today known as “The Void”, Libberton’s Wynd was full of life as drinkers mixed with merchants, barbers, a shoemaker, hosiers and glaziers who made their living there.

While the street has long gone, traces of lives once lived there still hold firm in the library’s archives close by.