The thread about early churchgoing in Newhaven and when the Free Fishermen challenged the authority of the Kirk for the right to look after their own

From 1143, the fisherfolk of the part of Leith west of the river – North Leith – were the subjects of Holyrood Abbey, who owned the boats and the fishing rights, and obliged them to attend services at the Holyrood Abbey. When the Abbot Bellenden erected a bridge across the Water of Leith near Sandport Street in 1486, he also provided a church (the bridge tolls helped finance it), dedicated to St. Ninian and later – after the Reformation – it would become the first North Leith Parish Kirk.

1560 Seige of Leith Map, the earliest representation of Newhaven, shows the chapel (the tower may be symbolic) and the two breakwaters constructed during the Great Michael project

Prior to the Reformation, Newhaven had a chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary and St. James, which had been built in 1505-06 by King James IV as the centrepiece of this new shipbuilding village he had established for the construction of the largest warship in the western world. James had apparently intended this would one day become a full church, but his untimely death at Flodden in 1513 put paid to those ideas, and it remained for its relatively short life a chapel – where the chaplain was ordained to say Mass – and an outpost of the Preceptory of St. Anthony in Leith.

The ruins of the Chapel of St. James and the Virgin Mary, an 1830s engraving from Old & New Edinburgh by James Grant
The ruins of the Chapel of St. James and the Virgin Mary, an 1830s engraving from Old & New Edinburgh by James Grant

The village was a feudal possession of the City of Edinburgh, who had purchased it off the permanently cash-strapped King in 1510 to ease his financial burdens; brought about in no small part by the building of Newhaven itself and the Great Michael project. The City was content to tax and Newhaven, but not to provide it with any of the benefits that local governance might bring. The chapel was ruined by the invasion of the English under the Earl of Hertford in 1544, when Edinburgh and Leith were burnt on the orders of King Henry VIII. John Knox’s zealous Reformatory mob finished the job around 1560.

Newhaven in the middle of the 19th century, by Alec Smith. Not that much has changedin the previous 200 years; it remains a traditional, east coast Scottish fishing village full of boats, workaday cottages, smokehouses, taverns and everyone has a job to do tied to the sea. © Edinburgh City Libraries

After this the chapel was unused and allowed to fall into ruin, although secular chaplains were still appointed by South Leith when the spoils of St. Anthony’s were divided up after the Reformation. This was purely a position of privilege to extract an income from its 6 acres of land. The burial ground was probably still used locally, but the populace were sent to worship not in nearby South Leith but all the way up in St. Cuthbert’s or the West Kirk of Edinburgh; a mile further away and uphill. North Leith, also a possession of Edinburgh, was given its parish kirk in the old St. Ninian’s in 1595, but for it took a further 35 years for Newhaven to be transferred into the parish of its nearest church.

In 1630, the sensible decision was made to detach the barony of Newhaven from the West Kirk and incorporate it into North Leith parish. However Edinburgh’s administrative machinations meant that the little port’s fish tithes continued to go that city until 1805.

The Kirk of North Leith in 1824, by James Skene. © Edinburgh City Libraries
The Kirk of North Leith in 1824, by James Skene. © Edinburgh City Libraries

The Newhaven fisher folk were fiercely self resilient and independent. They answered chiefly to the sea and had deeply resented being sold by King James IV to Edinburgh in 1510. They never saw themselves as of Edinburgh. And they certainly didn’t see themselves as of Leith.

Newhaven Fishermen, an 1835 coloured etching. Their distinctive garb is obviously continental, at a time when the Lowland Scottish man was almost universally clad in Hodden Grey jackets and breeches and a blue bonnet. © Edinburgh City Libraries
Newhaven Fishermen, an 1835 coloured engraving. Their bright and distinctive garb is obviously continental, and hadn’t changed much for a few hundred years – a time when the Lowland Scottish man was almost universally clad in Hodden Grey jackets and breeches and a blue bonnet. © Edinburgh City Libraries

The Kirk tried to exert authority on Newhaven through the office of the church baillie; an appointee whose job it was to try and maintain a semblance of basic discipline and justice amongst the parishioners. A baillie court was established in Newhaven, where those who had strayed could be tried and sentence passed. In 1605, Janet Merlin and her mother had to make public repentance for naming a baby that was now 20 weeks old and was not yet baptised. Marion Anderson was ordered to make public repentance, on pain of being put in the jougs (an iron corporal punishment collar), for cursing the minister and his family. David King was ordered never to be found drunken again on pain of being put in the stocks for 24 hours. All relatively serious offences at the time, however the punishments were all relatively minor. This was not the case for all; in 1601, a man found guilty of stealing grain from a store in North Leith using a skeleton key was ordered to be abandoned on the beach at low tide with his limbs bound and to be left to the sea.

The folk of Newhaven couldn’t resist the Kirk’s power entirely, but managed to exert some independence by negotiating themselves the right to maintain their own poor. At this time the parish provided financial support from its own means for its own poor. Like many Scottish parishes, North Leith could hardly care for its own poor, so readily accepted Newhaven’s offer to not encumber it with theirs. In Newhaven, support meant the Society of Free Fishermen, an early “friendly society”; for the benefit of its members. The sea was cruel and frequently snatched life away on a whim. The community could not have existed without its own system to care for those left behind.

Some of the last Free Fishermen of Newhaven. 1988. © Edinburgh City Libraries

The earliest record of the Free Fishermen is a property sasine in 1572 and it’s undoubtedly older. It was incorporated by a charter of James VI in 1573. The society was open to any fishermen paying their dues, and it conferred the rights to dredge for oysters, use the fraternity’s pier, as well as the financial benefits of the society. John Buchan modelled his 18th century adventure novel The Free Fishers off of the society, although he moved the centre of its organisation to Fife.

However, Newhaven’s offer to support its own poor wasn’t entirely brotherly Christian charity – as they point blank refused to make any provision to the North Leith poor box as was expected of them. Their point of view was simple; they would care for their own, as they always had done, let North Leith do the same. On the Sabbath, the Free Fishers set up their own collection plate on the road from Newhaven, at the old North Leith boundary, so that no Newhaven money need leave the barony for the benefit of North Leithers.

The Newhaven poor collection plate. A modern sketch by Ronald Penn from "Newhaven, Port of Grace"
The Newhaven poor collection plate. A modern sketch by Ronald Penn from “Newhaven, Port of Grace”

This was an outrageous affront to the Kirk’s authority, but the North Leith minister, David Forrester, was a diplomatic sort and very independently minded himself, so he took the pragmatic decision to turn a blind eye and not needlessly stir discontent amongst his charges.

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These threads © 2017-2023, Andy Arthur

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