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W. Earl Hall World War II stories, 1944

Letter #26

slug-Historic Sites-4
By W. EARL HALL
Globe-Gazette Managing Editor
Letter No. 26
Edinburgh, Scotland--(By Special Army Air Mail)--From the lofty crag where once Mary Queen of Scots once lived and ruled, I looked down this morning on Historic Edinburgh, reputed to be the most beautiful city in all of Scotland, if not, indeed, the entire British isles.
I crossed the moat which in the day of spear and shield was ample defence for this ancient castle atop its great heap of solid rock.  I examined at close range the Mons Meg cannon, with a history dating back to 1428--more than a half century before America's discovery.
Nearby in the castle court was the Chapel of St. Margaret, built in 1050 and said to be the oldest structure in all of Scotland.
High up in the castle, overlooking what in ancient days was a walled city, were the quarters of Mary and the other early-day monarch of Scotland.
From one of its tiny windows, the infant James VI of Scotland was lowered by rope and basket to be smuggled out of the castle grounds, under siege.  Later he was to become James I of the united England and Scotland.
All about us on the castle grounds were plazues and shafts memorializing the Bruces and the Wallaces for their bravery in the defense of the castle under siege.
From the wall above the moat I looked down on Princess street, Edinburgh's equivalent of New York's Fifth avenue, Chicago's Michigan boulevard, London's Oxford street and Paris' Champs Elysees.
Along Princess street lay the Scottish national art galleries and the pretentious monument to Sir Walter Scott, with its altitudinous spire.
In the foreground, between the castle and Princess street, lay a network of railroads and the central station where our party--two American Congressmen, another newspaper editor and myself--had made our early morning arrival.
A bit beyond Princess street was the steeple of the church of which Robert Louis Stevenson was a member.  His home, now something of a shrine, is close by.
Beyond lies the Firth of Forth and its extensive docks.  It's the river Forth and "firth" is the Scotch word or "estuary" or "mouth."
And beyond the Forth, in a hazy mist, lay the famed Hills of Fife, inspiration for many a Scotch poem and setting for many a Scotch legend.
In the mile square walled city, of which the castle is a part, the government buildings, including a pretentious palace reserved for the British royal family on its infrequent visits to Scotland.
Connecting the castle and the government buildings is an ancient street known as "The Royal Mile."  Its cobblestones were known to Mary and to almost every other famed personage in Scotland's rich history.
For me one of the principal points of history on the Royal Mile was the home and the church of John Knox, founder of the modern Presbyterianism, which, incidentally, is the state religion of Scotland.
Before our visit to the castle, even before our breakfast of oats porridge and sausage (half meat, half meal), we walked down Princess street to an American Red Cross headquarters and greeted a half hundred American soldiers and sailors.
Most of them were from bases in northern England, with only a few stationed in Scotland.  Every one of them, without exception, was loud in his praises of Scotch hospitality.
The ancient part of the city is marked by narrow twisting streets, in the fashion of London and continental Europe.  But the new Edinburgh has broad, well-paved thoroughfares reminiscent of Washington and Paris.
Except for its shipping, Edinburgh is pretty much without war industry.  This is another way of saying that the city has not been a principal target for Nazi bombs.  There are no physical scars of war.
All in call, this second most important center in Scotland ranks among the half dozen most beautiful cities I have met up with in my meanderings on three continents.
--  30  --

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slug-Historic Sites-4 By W. EARL HALL Globe-Gazette Managing Editor Letter No. 26 Edinburgh, Scotland--(By Special Army Air Mail)--From the lofty crag where once Mary Queen of Scots once lived and ruled, I looked down this morning on Historic Edinburgh, reputed to be the most beautiful city in all of Scotland, if not, indeed, the entire British isles. I crossed the moat which in the day of spear and shield was ample defence for this ancient castle atop its great heap of solid rock. I examined at close range the Mons Meg cannon, with a history dating back to 1428--more than a half century before America's discovery. Nearby in the castle court was the Chapel of St. Margaret, built in 1050 and said to be the oldest structure in all of Scotland. High up in the castle, overlooking what in ancient days was a walled city, were the quarters of Mary and the other early-day monarch of Scotland. From one of its tiny windows, the infant James VI of Scotland was lowered by rope and basket to be smuggled out of the castle grounds, under siege. Later he was to become James I of the united England and Scotland. All about us on the castle grounds were plazues and shafts memorializing the Bruces and the Wallaces for their bravery in the defense of the castle under siege. From the wall above the moat I looked down on Princess street, Edinburgh's equivalent of New York's Fifth avenue, Chicago's Michigan boulevard, London's Oxford street and Paris' Champs Elysees. Along Princess street lay the Scottish national art galleries and the pretentious monument to Sir Walter Scott, with its altitudinous spire. In the foreground, between the castle and Princess street, lay a network of railroads and the central station where our party--two American Congressmen, another newspaper editor and myself--had made our early morning arrival. A bit beyond Princess street was the steeple of the church of which Robert Louis Stevenson was a member. His home, now something of a shrine, is close by. Beyond lies the Firth of Forth and its extensive docks. It's the river Forth and "firth" is the Scotch word or "estuary" or "mouth." And beyond the Forth, in a hazy mist, lay the famed Hills of Fife, inspiration for many a Scotch poem and setting for many a Scotch legend. In the mile square walled city, of which the castle is a part, the government buildings, including a pretentious palace reserved for the British royal family on its infrequent visits to Scotland. Connecting the castle and the government buildings is an ancient street known as "The Royal Mile." Its cobblestones were known to Mary and to almost every other famed personage in Scotland's rich history. For me one of the principal points of history on the Royal Mile was the home and the church of John Knox, founder of the modern Presbyterianism, which, incidentally, is the state religion of Scotland. Before our visit to the castle, even before our breakfast of oats porridge and sausage (half meat, half meal), we walked down Princess street to an American Red Cross headquarters and greeted a half hundred American soldiers and sailors. Most of them were from bases in northern England, with only a few stationed in Scotland. Every one of them, without exception, was loud in his praises of Scotch hospitality. The ancient part of the city is marked by narrow twisting streets, in the fashion of London and continental Europe. But the new Edinburgh has broad, well-paved thoroughfares reminiscent of Washington and Paris. Except for its shipping, Edinburgh is pretty much without war industry. This is another way of saying that the city has not been a principal target for Nazi bombs. There are no physical scars of war. All in call, this second most important center in Scotland ranks among the half dozen most beautiful cities I have met up with in my meanderings on three continents. -- 30 --