The story
Welcome to the threshold where the orderly geometry of Edinburgh’s New Town meets the spirited, ancient heart of Broughton. As you stand here at the top of Broughton Street, take a moment to look down the hill. You are looking at a landscape that has lived several lives.
Long before the grand stone terraces of the New Town were even a blueprint, Broughton was an independent village, a barony with its own laws, its own prison, and a very dark reputation. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, this area was notorious as a site for witch trials. The local Baron Bailie held court here, and many unfortunate souls accused of witchcraft were held in the village tolbooth before meeting a grim end at the nearby Gallowlee.
There is a strange irony in how a place once defined by such rigid, fearful superstition has evolved into Edinburgh’s most liberated and inclusive quarter. If you walk just a few steps toward Broughton Place, you’ll notice the architectural shift. Here, the grand, neoclassical ambition of the New Town attempted to swallow the old village whole.
Notice the Mansfield Traquair Centre, a stunning former church often called Edinburgh’s Sistine Chapel. Inside, the walls are covered in breathtaking murals by Phoebe Anna Traquair, a key figure in the Arts and Crafts movement. Her work reflects the very soul of this neighborhood: intricate, defiant, and deeply artistic.
As you move back onto the spine of Broughton Street, the atmosphere changes. The formal stone gives way to a vibrant, bohemian energy. This is the "Pink Triangle," the historical and modern heart of the city’s LGBTQ+ community.
The street is a tapestry of independent bookshops, artisan coffee houses, and legendary pubs like The Cask and Barrel or the Conan Doyle. There is an intimacy here that you won’t find on the wider boulevards of Princes Street. Look closely at the shopfronts and the narrow lanes branching off the main road.
You are walking over the bones of the old village. Even though the thatched cottages are gone, the sense of being "just outside" the city walls remains. Broughton has always been the rebellious sibling to the New Town’s stiff upper lip.
It is a place of transition, where the ghosts of the past—from the condemned "witches" to the Victorian craftsmen—seem to mingle with the poets, artists, and revelers of today. As you continue your stroll, let the echoes of this old barony remind you that Edinburgh is never just one story; it is a collection of villages, each with its own heartbeat, and Broughton’s heart beats louder than most.