What are the Stockbridge Colonies?

We live in the StockbridgeOur street Colonies, a delightful area with interesting orgins and characteristics.  People often ask about the name and about how they came to be – in a city centre best known for its cliff-like terraces of Georgian grandeur, our Victoria cottages are something of a contrast.

Before I start talking about the history of the neighbourhood though, I should warn you that I have a Masters in Housing Policy and a particular interest in Victorian philanthropic housing – I can bore on for hours about Saltaire near Bradford or Bourneville in Birmingham, and the early Garden Cities were fascinating because… So I’ll keep editing and try not to go on too much about the aspects of Colony history which are only of interest to me.

The Stockbridge Colonies were built between 1861 and 1911 by the Edinburgh Co-operative Building Company to provide housing for working people who could buy shares in the company for £1, receiving a dividend based on profits each year.  The formation of the company stemmed from an industrial dispute about working hours in 1860.  Joiners and stonemasons were locked out and came together during this period to start building homes near the Water of Leith in Stockbridge.  Although the early 1800s had seen the development of the New Town with it’s townhouses and sweeping crescents, housing for the working classes in Edinburgh, especially that in the Old Town, along and around the Royal Mile, was appallingly over-crowded and unhealthy.  The land bought by the ECBC, also known as Glenogle Park, was cheap – the river was polluted by industrial waste and sewage and the building plot formed part of its flood plain – and unattractive to more commercial developers.  Similar developments had been constructed at Pilrig and Rosemount Buildings in other parts of the city, but the Stockbridge Colonies were the largest development of these type of buildings.

The colonies were popular with people working in the building trades, shop-keepers, clerks with lower flats costing £130 and larger upper flats £150.  Affordable mortgages were available from some of the cities property investment companies which made home-ownership possible for the working classes with a secure, if low, income.  Not all Colonies were owner-occupied; some were sold to private landlords.

I haven’t been able to find much information about how the colonies fared in the early to mid 20th century – my mother-in-law tells me that they were quite run down in the 50s and then became more Bohemian in the 60s and 70s.  In fact, the much posher Georgian New Town was quite run down in the post World War Two period and the city council purchased some properties to save them from further deterioration.  The property boom of the 1980s saw an increase in gentrification and although there are still long-term tenants on fixed rents and owner-occupiers who have been there for decades, the demographic profile of the neighbourhood is much more middle-class than the original residents.  From what I gather, our property was let to a sitting tenant for over 20 years with the landlord living in England and rarely having anything to do with the property.  Including maintaining the electrics or heating as far as I can tell…   We’ve had a lot of work to do on that front! The area still has a fairly arty air, with a high proportion of arists and writers among the residents and my own experience of living in Hugh Miller Place a few years ago was that Colony dwellers see themselves as the alternative face of Edinburgh’s New Town!

The street names are somwhat confusing if you look at maps – it is best to think of the names as belonging to the terrace of houses itself rather than the road outside.  There are eleven terraces, each of three stories.  Now, if you look at the picture above, you’ll see that on the right hand side there are steps going up to first floor level but not on the right.  That’s because there are upper colonies which occupy the top two stories and have steps going up to them and lower colonies which are single storey flats accessed at ground floor level from the other side of the terrace.  When they were built one of the guiding principles of design was that all families should have their own entrance and own garden, signifying another move away from the overcrowded Old Town tenements.

Although the lower and upper colonies in one terrace are accessed from different sides they have the same street name.  So we’re an upper on Bell Place and the lowers have their front doors on the street behind but it’s still Bell Place.  On the opposite side of the street from our front door are the entrances to the lower colonies of Kemp Place and the uppers of Kemp Place are on the other side facing one side of the Avondale Place terrace.  Is that clear as mud now?

101 The pic on the right was taken a few years ago before we moved in here.  As you can see, the uppers share their steps with their neighbours which is quite nice from a social point of view.  The Colonies are a great example of how fairly high density housing can be built while still enabling people to have their own front doors and gardens.

I love living here and now that our house is finished I can’t imagine wanting to move for quite a while…

You can read more about the Colonies and their history at the following places:

History of the Edinburgh Co-Operative Building Company

Wikipedia page about Colony houses

Pictures of Colonies on a site promoting Edinburgh as a film location

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Shelf Notes: Darling Monster by Diana Cooper and John Julius Norwich

darling monster “I looked in on Chips in London and found the Duchess of Kent, her sister Countess Toren, the reigning Prince and Princess of Liechtenstein, the Ranee of Kapurthala and the King of Egypt’s sister.  It was like a stamp album.”

Lady Diana Cooper was a fascinating woman.  A deb famed for her beauty who gave up her glamorous life to work as a nurse during World War One, she later dabbled in journalism and acting before marrying Duff Cooper in 1919.  Darling Monster is a collection of the letters from Diana to her son John Julius over a period of 13 years, from 1939 when he was evacuated to the USA to 1952 when he left Oxford to marry and to join the Foreign Service.  That period saw her dig for victory at the family’s holiday home in Bognor Regis, support Duff in his difficult job as Churchill’s Minister for Information and through his career as a diplomat in Algiers, Singapore and Paris.  Diana’s circle of friends and acquaintances was legion – as indicated by the extract at the top of this post – and the list names and nicknames at the back of the book is an invaluable reference.

Not a diarist, Diana’s life is chonicled through her letters – she was a prolific correspondent, and her son describes how she would write “sitting bolt upright in bed, cross-legged, a pad of paper on her right knee, a pencil in her hand – always pencil so as to not get ink on the sheets.”  So much of Diana’s personality shines through these letters; her insight, her humour and the way that she would willingly turn her hand to anything her life threw at her, from getting to grips with cow husbandry to a stint as a gracious hostess when Duff was appointed British ambassador to France immediately after World War Two.

I do hope that John Julius Norwich will put together a further volume of his mother’s letters.  She is both of this world and of another, past, world and her correspondence is fascinating.

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Shelf Notes: High Rising by Angela Thirkell

high risingAngela Thirkell was hugely successful in the ’30s, ’40s and ’50s but rather dropped out of sight in later years.  However, she maintained a stalwart readership who pursued her out-of-print titles vigorously.

Although aware of AT, I’d never read any of her work until Virago added her to their list of neglected women writers and reissued some of her best known novels.  High Rising is perhaps the best known, and is the first of the long series set in the fictional county of Barsetshire (helpfully created orginally by Trollope).  It concerns the conflict caused by Una Grey, the new secretary of George Knox, famed writer of historical biographies, and who has her conniving mind set on becoming the next Mrs Knox.  However, George’s friends step in, led by his neighbour, novelist Laura Morland, and rout the Incubus.  Laura also manages to engineer the engagement of her literary agent Adrian and Sibyl among others.

I loved the self-deprecating, hairpin-dropping, capable but slightly scatty Laura, mother of the deeply irritating Tony and terribly successful writer of ‘good bad novels’, the forerunners to today’s often unfairly derided chick-lit novels.

Do try High Rising if you can – it’s the perfect companion for a Sunday afternoon with tea and buttered crumpets and comes with an introduction by Thirkell fan Alexander McCall Smith.

If you like this, you might also like:

Henrietta’s War by Joyce Dennys

Diary of a Provincial Lady by E M Delafield (although there can’t be many who have already discoveed the joy of the PL)

Miss Buncle’s Book by D E Stevenson

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The pleasure of the familiar

There are people who never re-read books.  People who have yards and yards of shelving filled with books that they will never read again, stories that they will never lose themselves in again, characters who will never be greeted as the friends that they became in the few hours spent with that book at an earlier time.

I am not one of those people.  Sure, there are books that I know I won’t read again, either because they were disappointing, or because they were so slight that they wouldn’t hold my attention for a second time.  And some crime novels, those that are all about the whodunnit and less about the characters, tend to hit the charity shop pile.  But I love to re-read books sometimes, whether that’s a masterpiece such as Muriel Spark’s The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, a slim volume where each reading reveals a new nuance, a new insight or something with far fewer literary aspirations – One for the Money by Janet Evanovich is an excellent companion for a tedious trip when one doesn’t have the concentration for something new.

When I have a cold though, or when the wind rattles the sashes and the rain lashes down, or when my soul needs soothing, there are a number of books that I reach for. These are old friends, whose company is always reassuring and welcome and I whole-heartedly recommend them if you haven’t already read them.

castleI Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith.  Very different from 101 Dalmations, the children’ book for which Smith is best known, this book is a coming of age novel, concerned primarily with Cassandra, younger daughter of the aristocratic Mortmain family, now living in genteel, bohemian poverty in their increasingly derelict castle, Godsend. I have several copies ranging from a shabby reading-in-the-bath paperback to a beautifully bound Folio Society edition.  Do read it, and if you know a teenage girl, give them a copy too.

Hens Dahensncing by Raffaella Barker.  This tale of Venetia Summers, mother of three, newly divested of her faithless husband, living chaotically in rural Norfolk is a delight.  The trials and tribulations of her hen-keeping, infrequent encounters with Bloody Marys and an unexpected romance are balanced by the War Hammer obsessions of her two sons and the eccentric presence of their sister, The Beauty.  It’s told in diary form (but don’t worry, it’s not a Bridget Jones clone) and it’s a regular companion when I get the sniffles and retire beneath my duvet.  Currently out of print, those sensible people at Bloomsbury are going to be republishing all of Raffaella’s backlist this year, including a couple of titles that I haven’t read yet.  Looking forward to that.

flambards (Flambards by K M Peyton (and also Flambards Divided). When this was dramatised for tv in the late 70s, I was allowed to stay up late to watch it and I loved it, spending my pocket money on the tv-tie in editions of the paperbacks which I still have on the shelf.  I loved the horses, the story, the countryside.  The dastardly Mark (played by Steven Grives with a frankly ill-advised moustache*) was my first crush and even now I sometimes find myself huming the theme tune as I gallop along.  Wonderful books that utterly transport you to another time and another world and why the incredibly prolific (a book per year for over 60 years) Kathleen Peyton is a heroine to so many.  I also love Flambards Divided, the fourth book in the trilogy, added 12 years after the third, following the popularity of the tv series and continuing the story.  It still causes controversy among fans between those on one side who loved the idea of Christina’s happy ever after with stable-boy-made-good Dick and realists like myself who knew that life wasn’t going to be as simple as that. Loved the books then and love curling up with them still.

jillJill’s Gymkhana by Ruby Ferguson.  I have to confess to a vested interest in recommending this book as our publishing company Fidra Books is in the process of reissuing this series of books, but I love it very much. I’ve read this book so often that I know chunks almost off by heart.  Jill is a witty, practical girl who sets out to teach herself how to care for the neglected pony that she buys and to learn to ride.  She has plenty of help admittedly, but she is resourceful and self-reliant and when I was a similarly pony-mad girl, Jill is exactly the sort of person I wanted as a best friend.  Although the perfect book for a ten year old, the books can be enjoyed by an adult, especially one who wished for a pony of their own when they were you. I re-read it from time to time and each time I get a little glow of pleasure that we’ve been able to bring these books back from obscurity.

the PLThe Diary of a Provincial Lady by E M Delafield.  Another book that I have in multiple editions, my favourite being a lovely fat green-spined Virago containing all four titles featuring the diaries of the Provincial Lady (like the second Mrs de Winter, we never know her name) although this is becoming rather fragile now and my last re-read was of the Folio Society edition. Nice, but the illustrations don’t fit with my idea of how the PL looks.  Do read them – the PL is a perfect companion for a train journey or a weekend on the sofa with a sniffle. The books are largely autobiographical – the day to day life of the wife of a Devon land agent – but have a sharpness and sense of the ridiculous which prevents any tweeness.  If you haven’t already discovered the PL, what are you waiting for?  Answer comes there none…

What are your comfort re-reads?

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Catching up…

I have a few posts mentally scheduled – what I’ve been reading, how my garden is doing and some of the gorgeous things I’ve cooked among others – but I like to think that I have an excuse for my indolence.  When the sun finally appeared in June, I decided that we absolutely had to go away on holiday.

That was the cue for hours of Googling, but everything we liked the look of either didn’t want to also welcome Teaga the Leonberger (and fair play to them; she is enormous and hairy) or was booked.  Because apparently most people book more than ten days in advance… Or had truly hideous furniture – cast-off brown Dralon, beds that looked lumpy even on the photos, kitchens from the 1970s with the kind of Baby Belling cooker that was in this place until we gutted the kitchen. I don’t know about you, but when I go away I want to stay somewhere at least as nice as my own home. Who wants to pay several hundred pounds to spend a week somewhere that’s like the pre-renovation photos?

And then I found this place… I emailed, sure that it would be booked but it was available and the owners were incredibly patient in answering my dozens of tiny queries because it’s a long way to Cornwall from Edinburgh and I wanted to make sure that it was perfect.  So we booked.

11 07 13 004The drive down was ok – we stopped overnight at my parents’ in Worcester – although the second leg from Worcester to Fowey was a bit wearing as it was so hot.  We had to stop a few times to give Teaga water and at one point we noticed her sitting weirdly on her bottom with her feet in the air and we realised that it was because the tarmac was so hot it was burning her paws!  So straight back in the car with the air-con on full blast for her.  We stopped at this heavenly country pub for lunch and ate delicious sandwiches in their shady garden. Teaga very much enjoyed that, especially as she had a few chips.

Parking in Fowey is a nightmare.  In fact, it’s best to forget parking. I’ve been visiting the town for well over 30 years and it seems to be worse – maybe it’s just that cars are getting bigger?  We drove through very slowly between walls with grooves worn into them from wing mirrors and following instructions from Nicole, we stopped fleetingly outside the house, hazards flashing, and hurled our belongings into the hall before heading to the town car park to abandon the car for the week.

The house is built into the side of the hill and deceptively small and cottagey. The ground floor has one bedroom and the first floor has two bedrooms plus a small room with a bunk bed along with the bathroom and the wet room. Then it’s upstairs to the huge living space with is gorgeous – well equipped and planned kitchen, dining table away to one side in a light-filled nook with windows on three sides and a comfortable sitting area.  The star of the show though, and what you keep being drawn back to, are the huge windows.

Then it was up the last flight of stairs to see if the roof terrace lived up to my dreams… This was the view:

view2I think we can safely say that my dreams were lived up to. It was a huge terrace with plants and a table and very comfortable chairs and the the cutest laundry room in a summer house. And although we visited the Lost Gardens of Heligan, the beautiful Trewithen gardens (which deserve a post of their own) and the Eden Project, quite apart from other expeditions, we spent many days and evenings just reading on the terrace and watching the harbour go by.

On a walk around the hills, Malcolm also found the abandoned watermill of his dreams but as he refuses to carry a mobile most of the time, I can’t share photos of that with you.  I have pointed out though, that our son leaves school in five years and so he’s got a little time to track down its owner and persuade them to sell it to us….

Holiday heaven though – and much needed and appreciated.  Two weeks on, we’re still very chilled out…

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