‘In the meantime, there was ane great dearth in Scotland of all kind of victuals.’—D. O.

In the course of the late civil war, Lords John and Claud Hamilton came to an inn to apprehend old Carmichael and the Laird of Westerhall. The house being beset and set on fire, the two gentlemen surrendered, on condition that their lives should be spared; but after they came forth, and were disarmed, Westerhall was slain, and Carmichael carried away a prisoner.

Westerhall being a dependent of the house of Angus, his death added largely to the resentment already felt by the Regent towards the Hamiltons. Love, however, which so often raises wrath, here came in to smooth it. There was a certain widowed Countess of Cassillis, whom Lord John knew and loved; and, as she was a cousin of the Regent, it became necessary to effect a reconciliation with him before a match could be effected. As one step towards this object—for doubtless there would be others, and particularly one involving a money-payment to the griping Morton—Lord John, now the actual head of the princely house of Hamilton, agreed, along with his brother, to perform a ceremony of expiation for the death of Westerhall. The Earl of Angus, head of the house of Douglas, being placed in the inner court of Holyrood Palace, Lords John and Claud walked across barefooted and bareheaded, and falling down on their knees before the earl, held up to him each a naked sword by the point, implying that they put their lives in his power, trusting solely to his generosity for their not being immediately slain. Soon after this strange scene, Lord John wedded Lady Cassillis.

This seems, after all, to have been but a partial and temporary restoration of the Hamiltons to court favour. There were many who could not forget or forgive their concern in the slaughter of the Regents Moray and Lennox. Douglas of Lochleven, uterine brother of Moray, was irreconcilably bitter against them. ‘Twice he set upon the Lord Hamilton, as he was coming from Aberbrothick, and chased him so that he was constrained to return to Aberbrothick again. Another time, as he was coming through Fife, he made him flee to Dairsie, which he beset and lay about it till the Regent sent to him and commanded him to desist.’—H. of G.

Though copies of the English Bible had found their way into Scotland, and been of great service in promoting and establishing the reformed doctrines, there was as yet no abundance of copies, nor had any edition been printed within the kingdom. There was, however, a burgess of Edinburgh named Thomas Bassendyne, who for some years had had a small printing-office there. He was probably too poor a man to undertake the printing of a thick quarto, the form in which the Bible was then usually presented; but he took into association with himself a man of better connection and means, named Alexander Arbuthnot, also an Edinburgh burgess; and now it was deemed possible that an edition of the Scriptures might be brought out within the realm of Scotland. The government, under the Regent Morton, gave a favourable ear to the project, and it was further encouraged by the bishops, superintendents, and other leading men of the kirk.

On the day noted, the Privy Council, seeing that ‘the charge and hazard of the wark will be great and sumptuous,’ decreed that each parish in the kingdom should advance £5 as a contribution, to be collected under the care of the said officers of the church, £4, 13s. 4d. of this sum being considered as the price of a copy of the impression, to be afterwards delivered, ‘weel and sufficiently bund in paste or timmer,’ and the remaining 6s. 8d. as the expense of collecting the money. The money was to be handed to Alexander Arbuthnot before the 1st of July next.

Arbuthnot and Bassendyne, on their parts, bound themselves to execute the work under certain penalties, and respectable men came forward as their sureties. Those who stood for Arbuthnot were David Guthrie of Kincaldrum, William Guthrie of Halkerton, William Rynd of Carse, and James Arnot of Lentusche—all Forfarshire gentlemen, be it remarked—a fact arguing that Arbuthnot himself was of the same district. The exact arrangements of Arbuthnot and Bassendyne between themselves do not at this time appear; but we find that Bassendyne engaged in Flanders one ‘Salomon Kerknett of Magdeburg’ to come and act as ‘composer’ at 49s. of weekly wages, and sought the aid of Mr George Young, servant of the abbot of Dunfermline, as corrector of the press. Having ‘guid characters and prenting irons,’ it was to be expected that the work, great and sumptuous as it was, would go quickly and pleasantly on. This hope, however, was not to be realised. (See under July 18, 1576.)—P. C. R.

Among the evils of these times, was one which the present generation knows nothing of but from history. Owing to the constant exporting of good coin, and the importing of bad, the circulating medium of the country was in a wretched state. There seems to have been a regular system for coining base placks and lions (otherwise called hardheads) in the Low Countries, to be introduced by merchants into Scotland. The Regent, in a proclamation, described the abundance of debased money as the chief cause of the present dearth, the possessors of grain being thus induced to withhold it from market. For this reason, according to his own account, proceeding upon an act of the convention now sitting, he ordained the old coin to be brought to the cunyie-house, where it would be ‘clippit, and put in ane close lockit coffer upon the count and inventar of the quantity receivit frae every person;’ and meanwhile the lately issued genuine placks and lions were to have currency at twopence and a penny apiece respectively—that is, at denominations above their value. Any one hereafter possessing the false coin, was to be punished as an out-putter of false money.

‘Every day after this proclamation, induring the convention, the poor veriit and banned the Regent and haill lords openly in their presence, whenever they passed or repassed frae the Abbey, whilk was heavy and lamentable to hear.’—D. O.

The Regent, while thus an oppressor of his people by attempting to enhance the value of the coin, was engaged in several sumptuous undertakings. He was restoring the Castle of Edinburgh at a vast expense, and also erecting a new mint—putting over its door, by the way, a prayer which he had at this time much need to use—

Be mercyfull to me, O God.

His own personal extravagances were not less remarkable. He erected at Dalkeith a magnificent palace, richly adorned with tapestries and pictures, and fitter for a king than a subject. Here he lived in an appropriate style. All this he did at the expense of his enemies. He kept a fool named Patrick Bonny, who, seeing him one day pestered by a concourse of beggars, advised him to have them all burnt in one fire. ‘What an impious idea!’ said the Regent. ‘Not at all,’ replied the jester; ‘if the whole of these poor people were consumed, you would soon make more poor people out of the rich.’—Jo. R. B. Hist.

‘There was ane calf calfit at Roslin, with ane heid, four een, three lugs [ears], ane in the middle, and ane on ilk side, twa mouths.’96—Sinclair of Roslin’s MS. additions to Extracta ex Chronicis Scotie.

A number of French Protestants having at this time taken refuge in London in great poverty, there was a collection in Edinburgh for their benefit, one person being commissioned to go ‘through the Lords of Session, advocates, and scribes,’ and another ‘to pass to the deacons and crafts,’ in order to gather their respective contributions.—R. G. K. E.

The General Assembly declared its mind regarding the dress fit for clergymen and their wives. ‘We think all kind of broidering unseemly; all begares97 of velvet, in gown, hose, or coat, and all superfluous and vain cutting out, steeking with silks, all kind of costly sewing on passments98 ... all kind of costly sewing, or variant hues in sarks; all kind of light and variant hues in clothing, as red, blue, yellow, and such like, which declare the lightness of the mind; all wearing of rings, bracelets, buttons of silver, gold, or other metal; all kinds of superfluity of cloth in making of hose; all using of plaids in the kirk by readers or ministers, namely in the time of their ministry, or using of their office; all kind of gowning, cutting, doubletting, or breeks of velvet, satin, taffeta, or such like; all silk hats, and hats of divers and light colours.’ It was recommended to the clergy, that ‘their whole habit be of grave colour, as black, russet, sad gray, or sad brown; or serges, worset, chamlet, grogram, lytes worset, or such like.... And their wives to be subject to the same order.’

It is rather curious that any such sumptuary regulations should have been required for the Presbyterian ministers, or even their helpmates, as, according to all accounts, their incomes for the first forty years after the Reformation were wretchedly narrow and irregular. The thirds of the old benefices assigned to them by Queen Mary’s act were far from being well paid. In the pathetic words of a memorial they presented to Mary in 1562, ‘most of them led a beggar’s life.’ They were as ill off under the grasping Morton as at any other time. The proceedings of the General Assembly of 1576 reveal that some were compelled to eke out their miserable stipends by selling ale to their flocks. The question was then formally put: ‘Whether a minister or reader may tap ale, beer, or wine, and keep an open tavern?’ to which it was answered: ‘Ane minister or reader that taps ale or beer or wine, and keeps ane open tavern, sould be exhorted by the commissioners to keep decorum.’—B. U. K.

Towards the end of this year, the Regent Morton was at Dumfries, holding justice-courts for the punishment of the Borderers. ‘Many were punished by their purses rather than their lives. Many gentlemen of England came thither to behald the Regent’s court, where there was great provocation made for the running of horses. By chance my Lord Hamilton had there a horse sae weel bridled and sae speedy, that although he was of a meaner stature than other horses that essayit their speed, he overran them all a great way upon Solway Sands, whereby he obtained great praise both of England and Scotland at that time.’—H. K. J.

It was found that in Meggotland, Eskdale-muir, and other parts near the Border, ‘where our sovereign lord’s progenitors were wont to have their chief pastime of hunting,’ the deer were now slain with guns, not only by Scotsmen, but by Englishmen whom Scotsmen smuggled in across the Border, and this often at forbidden times; all which was ‘against the commonweal and policy of the realm.’ The Privy Council accordingly took measures to put a stop to these practices.—P. C. R.

‘The first day of May, 1576 years, was sae evil, the wind and weet at the west-north-west, with great showers of snaw and sleet, that the like was nocht seen by them that was living, in mony years afore, sae evil.’—Chr. Aber.

The Earl of Huntly died in a sudden and mysterious manner at Strathbogie Castle. Having fallen down in a fit while playing at foot-ball, he was carried to bed, where he foamed at the mouth and nostrils, struggled with his hands, and stared wildly, as if he would have spoken, but could never command but one word—‘Look, look, look.’ He also vomited a good deal of blood. After four hours’ illness, he expired.

‘The Earl of Huntly being dead thus on Saturday at even, Adam [Gordon, his brother] immediately causit bear but [out, outward] the dead corpse to the chalmer of dais [room of state], and causit bear into the chalmer where he had lain, the whole coffers, boxes, or lettrens [desks], that the earl himself had in handling, and had ony gear in keeping in; sic as writs, gold, silver, or golden work, whereof the keys were in ane lettren. The key of that lettren was at his awn bag, whilk Adam took and openit that, and took out the rest of the keys, and made ane inventory upon all the gear he fand within that coffer, or at least on the maist part and special part of that that was within; and when he had ta’en out sic money as to make his awn expenses south, he lockit all the coffers again, and thereafter lockit the chalmer door, and put up the key, and causit lock the outer chalmer door where the dead corpse lay. After they had set candles in the chalmer to burn, and gave the key of that chalmer door to John Hamilton, wha was man having greatest care within that place and credit of the Earl of Huntly in his time—this done, with sic other directions made for waiting on the place, Adam made him ready, and took the post south at 12 hours on the night, as I believe.... At ten hours or thereby before noon, on the morn after the earl was dead, there was in ane chalmer together, callit the leather chalmer, ... fourteen or sixteen men lamenting the death that was so suddenly fallen, every man for his part rehearsing the skaith [damage] that was to come by that death to them. Amangst the whilk there was ane westland man standing upright [with] his back at the fire, wha said the cause was not so hard to nane as [it] was to him, for he was newlings come out of Lochinvar, for some evil turn that he had done that he might not brook his awn country for ... he falls flat down on his face to the ground dead. The men pullit him up, cuist up door and window, and gave him air; there could appear no life in him, except he was hot.’ After lying several hours in the fit, ‘he recovered with great sobbing and working with his hands, feet, and body, and he cried, “Cauld, cauld.”’ This lasted till next morning, when he recovered thoroughly.

‘On the morn ... Tyesday next after the earl’s death, John Hamilton was gone up to the gallery of the new wark [building] to bring down spicery or some other gear for the kitchen, and had with him ane Mr James Spittal, and ane other man of the place, whose name I have forgotten.... This John Hamilton opened ane coffer, taking out something that he needit; he says: “I am very sick,” and with that he falls down, crying, “Cauld, cauld.” The other twa took him quickly up, cast up the window, and had him up and down the house. At length he said he was very sick; he wald have been in ane bed. Mr James Spittal convoyit him down the stair. When he was there down, he remembered that he had forgotten ane coffer open behind him; he turned again and the said Mr James with him, and when they had come again, they found the third man that was with them fallen dead ower the coffer, and he on his wambe lying ower the coffer. John Hamilton might make no help, by reason he himself was evil at ease. Mr James Spittal ran down, and brought up twa or three other men, and carried him down the stair, and up and down the close, but could find no life in him. At length they laid him in ane bed, where within ane while he recovered, with sighing and sobbing, wrestling with hands, feet, and body, and ever as he got ony words betwixt the swooning, he cried, “Cauld, cauld;” and this lasted twelve or thirteen hours, and I trow langer, if he was sae weel waited on as the lave [rest], as he was not, but gave him leave to work him alane, because he was ane simple poor man. All these wrought as the Earl of Huntly did in his dead passions, except they vomited not, nor fumed at the mouth and nostrils.

‘Upon that Tyesday after the deid [death], ane surgeoner of Aberdeen, callit William Urquhart, came to Strathbogie and bowelled the dead corpse, which, after the bowelling, was ta’en out of the chalmer and had into the chapel, where it remaineth to the burial. John Hamilton receivit the key of the chalmer door again when the dead corpse was ta’en out. On Wednesday next after the deid, Patrick Gordon, the earl’s brother, was sitting on ane form next to that chalmer door where that the dead corpse was bowelled; he hears ane great noise and din in that chalmer, whether it was of speech, of graning, or rumbling, I cannot tell. There was sixteen or twenty men in the hall with him; he gars call for John Hamilton, and asks gif there was onybody in that chalmer; the other said: “Nay.” He bade him hearken what he heard at the door, wha heard as he did. Then the key was brought him. He commandit John Hamilton to gang in, wha refused; he skipped in himself; John Hamilton followed ane step or twa, and came with speed again to the door for fear. Patrick passed to the inner side of the chalmer, and heard the like noise as he did when he was thereout, but yet could see nothing, for it was even, at the wayganging of the daylight. He came back gain very affrayedly, and out at the door, and show[ed] so mony as bidden in the hall what he had heard, wha assayit to pass to the chalmer, to know what was there; but nane enterit ower the threshold; all came back for fear. This pastime lasted them more nor ane hour. Candles were brought, the chalmer vissied [examined]; nothing there. As soon as they came to the door again, the noise was as great as of before, the candles burning there ben [within]; they said to me that knows it, there is not sae meikle a quick thing as a mouse may enter within that chalmer, the doors and windows [being] steekit, it is so close all about. Judge ye how ghaists and gyre-carlins come in among them. They were ane hour or twa at this bickering, while ane man of the place comes in among them, and said to Patrick: “Fye, for gif he was not tentie [careful], the bruit [report] wald pass through the country that the Earl of Huntly had risen again.” Then Patrick called them that had heard it, and commandit that nae sic word should be spoken.’—Ban.

The work of printing the Bible, undertaken by Arbuthnot and Bassendyne in March of the year preceding, had proved a heavier undertaking than they expected, and had met with ‘impediments.’ They now therefore came with their sureties before the Privy Council, and pleaded for nine months further time to complete the work, obliging themselves, in case of failure, to return the money which had been contributed by the various parishes. This grace was extended to them.

On the 5th January 1576-7, the work of the Bible was still in hand, and we have then a complaint made to the Regent by ‘Salomon Kerknett of Magdeburg, composer of wark of the Bible,’ to the effect that Thomas Bassendyne had refused since the 23d of December by past, to pay him the weekly wages of 49s., agreed upon between them when he was engaged in Flanders. The Regent, finding the complaint just, ordered Bassendyne to pay Kerknett his arrears, and continue paying him at the same rate till the work should be finished.

Six days later, a more serious complaint was made against Bassendyne—namely, by Alexander Arbuthnot, that he would not deliver to Alexander, as he had contracted to do, the printing-house and the Bible, so far as printed, ‘wherethrough the wark lies idle, to the great hurt of the commonweal of the realm.’ The Regent, having heard parties, and being ripely advised by the Lords of the Council, ordered that Bassendyne should deliver the printing-house and Bible to Alexander Arbuthnot before the end of the month.—P. C. R.

Such were the difficulties which stood in the way of the first edition of the Bible printed in Scotland.

It was found necessary to issue an edict to the gold-seekers in Crawford-muir, Roberton, and Henderland, forbidding them to continue selling their gold to merchants for exportation, but to bring all, as was legally due, to the king’s cunyie-house, to be sold there at the accustomed prices, for the use of the state.—P. C. R.

‘The whilk summer was right guid weather; but there was weir betwixt my Lord of Argyle and my Lord Athole, and great spoliation made by the men of Lochaber on puir men. God see till that.’

‘All June, July, and August right evil weather.... Nae aits shorn in Fortirgall the 23 day of September.... All October evil weather; mickle corn unshorn and unled.’—C. F.

The trial of Elizabeth or Bessie Dunlop of Lyne, in Ayrshire, for the alleged crime of witchcraft. Bessie was a married woman, apparently in middle life, and her only offence was giving information, as from a supernatural source, regarding articles which had been stolen, and for the cure of diseases. ‘She herself had nae kind of art nor science sae to do;’ she obtained her information, when she required it, from ‘ane Tom Reid, wha died at Pinkie,’ that is, at the battle fought there twenty-nine years before. Her intercourse with a deceased person seems to have given herself little surprise, and she spoke of it with much coolness.

Being asked, ‘what kind of man this Tom Reid was, [she] declairit, he was ane honest, weel, elderly man, gray-beardit, and had ane gray coat with Lombard sleeves of the auld fashion; ane pair of gray breeks and white shanks [stockings], gartenit aboon the knee; ane black bonnet on his head, close behind and plain before; with silken laces drawn through the lips thereof; and ane white wand in his hand. Being interrogat how and in what manner of place the said Tom Reid came to her, [she] answerit, as she was ganging betwixt her awn house and the yard of Monkcastle, driving her kye to the pasture, and making heavy sair dule with herself, greeting very fast for her cow that was dead, her husband and child that were lying sick in the land-ill, and she new risen out of gissan [childbed], the said Tom met her by the way, halsit her [took her round the neck, saluting her], and said: “Gude day, Bessie;” and she said: “God speed you, gudeman.” “Sancta Maria,” said he, “Bessie, why makes thou sae great dule and sair greeting for ony warldly thing?” She answerit: “Alas, have I not cause to make great dule? for our gear is traikit [dwindled away], and my husband is on the point of deid, and ane baby of my awn will not live, and myself at ane weak point; have I not gude cause, then, to have ane sair heart?” But Tom said: “Bessie, thou hast crabbit [irritated] God, and askit something you should not have done; and therefore I counsel thee to mend to him, for I tell thee thy bairn shall die, and the sick cow, ere you come hame; thy twa sheep shall die too; but thy husband shall mend, and be as haill and feir as ever he was.” And then was I something blyther, frae he tauld me that my gudeman wald mend. Then Tom Reid went away from me in through the yard of Monkcastle; and I thought he gaed in at ane narrower hole of the dyke nor ony eardly man could have gane through; and sae I was something fleyit [frightened].’ ... The third time that Tom and Bessie met, ‘he appeared to her as she was ganging betwixt her awn house and the Thorn of Damustarnock, where he tarriet ane gude while with her, and speerit [inquired] at her, “Gif she wald not trow in him?” She said: “She wald trow in onybody did her gude.” And Tom promisit her baith gear, horses, and kye, and other graith, gif she wald deny her christendom and the faith she took at the font-stane. Whereunto she answerit: “That gif she should be riven at horse-tails, she should never do that,” but promisit to be leal and true to him in ony thing she could do.

‘... The feird [fourth] time, he appearit in her awn house to her, about the 12 hour of the day, where there was sitting three tailors and her awn gudeman ... he took her apron and led her to the door with him, and she followit, and gaed up with him to the kiln-end, where he forbade her to speak or fear ony thing she heard or saw ... when they had gane ane little piece forward, she saw twelve persons, aucht women and four men: the men were clad in gentlemen’s claithing, and the women had all plaids round about them, and were very seemly-like to see. And Tom was with them. Demandit if she knew any of them, answerit: “Nane, except Tom.” Demandit what they said to her, answerit: They bade her sit down, and said, “Welcome, Bessie; will thou go with us?” But she answerit not, because Tom had forbidden her.’

‘And further declairit, that she knew not what purpose they had amongst them; only she saw their lips move; and within a short space, they partit all away; and ane hideous ugly sough of wind followit them; and she lay sick till Tom came back again frae them.... Being demandit gif she speerit at Tom what persons they were, answerit: “That they were the gude wights that winnit in the court of Elfame, wha came there to desire her to go with them.” And further, Tom desirit her to do the same; wha answerit: “She saw nae profit to gang thae kind of gaits [to go such ways], unless she kend wherefore.” Tom said: “Sees thou not me, baith meat-worth, claith-worth, and gude eneuch like in person? and [he] should make her far better nor ever she was.” She answerit: “That she dwelt with her awn husband and bairns, and could not leave them.” And sae Tom began to be very crabbit with her, and said: “Gif sae she thought, she wald get little gude of him.”’

Bessie from time to time consulted her ghostly friend about cases of sickness for which her skill was required. ‘Tom gave out of his awn hand, ane thing like the root of ane beet, and bade her either seethe or make ane saw [salve] of it, or else dry it, and make powder of it, and give it to sick persons, and they should mend.... She mendit John Jack’s bairn, and Wilson’s of the town, and her gudeman’s sister’s cow.... The Lady Johnston, elder, sent to her ane servant to help ane young gentlewoman, her doughter, now married on the young Laird of Stanley, and I thereupon askit counsel of Tom. He said to me, “that her sickness was ane cauld blude that gaed about her heart, that causit her to dwalm [faint]” ... and Tom bade her take ane part of ginger, clows, anniseeds, liquorice, and some stark [strong] ale, and seethe them together, and share it, and put it in ane vessel, and take ane little quantity of it in ane mutchkin can, and some white suckar casten amang it; take and drink thereof ilk day, in the morning; gang ane while after, before meat; and she wald be haill.... Demandit what she gat for her doing, declairit “ane peck of meal and some cheese.” ... Interrogate, gif she could tell of ony thing that was away, or ony thing that was to come, [she] answerit, that she could do naething of herself, but as Tom tauld her ... mony folks in the country [came to her] to get wit of gear stolen frae them.... The Lady Thirdpart in the barony of Renfrew sent to her and speerit at her, wha was it that had stolen frae her twa horns of gold, and ane crown of the sun, out of her purse? And after she had spoken with Tom, within twenty days, she sent her word wha had them; and she gat them again.... Being demandit of William Kyle, burgess in Irvine, as he was coming out of Dumbarton, wha was the stealer of Hugh Scott’s cloak, ane burgess of the same town? Tom answerit: ‘That the cloak wald not be gotten, because it was ta’en away by Mally Boyd, dweller in the same town, and was put out of the fashion of ane cloak in [to] ane kirtle,’ &c.

Bessie, being asked how she knew that her visitor was Tom Reid who had died at Pinkie, answered: ‘That she never knew him when he was in life, but that she should not doubt that it was he bade her gang to Tom Reid his son, now officer in his place to the Laird of Blair, and to certain others his kinsmen and friends there, whom he named, and bade them restore certain goods and mend other offences that they had done.... Interrogate gif Tom, at his awn hand, had sent her to ony person to shaw them things to come, declarit that he sent her to nae creature in middle-eard but to William Blair of the Strand, and his eldest dochter, wha was contractit and shortly to be married with .... Crawford, young Laird of Baidland, and declare unto them, “That gif she married that man she should either die ane shameful death, slay herself, or gae red-wod [mad];” whereby the said marriage was stayit, and the laird foresaid married her youngest sister.’

Bessie denied any further advances on Tom’s part than his taking her once by the apron, and asking her to go with him to Elfame, that is, Fairyland. He used to come chiefly to her at noon. She had seen him walking among the people in the kirk-yard of Dalry; also once in the High Street of Edinburgh, on a market-day, where he laughed to her. Having once ridden with her husband to Leith to bring home meal—‘ganging afield to tether her horse at Restalrig Loch, there came ane company of riders bye, that made sic ane din as heaven and eard had gane together; and incontinent they rade into the loch, with mony hideous rumble. Tom tauld it was the gude wights that were riding in middle-eard.’

Being found guilty of the sorcery and other evil arts laid to her charge, Bessie Dunlop was consigned to the flames.—Pit.

The modern student of insanity can have no difficulty with this case: it is simply one of hallucination, the consequence of diseased conditions.

The family of Innes of that Ilk, seated in their fine old castle on the coast of Moray, near Elgin, was one of prime importance in the country. The present laird, Alexander, ‘though gallant, had something of particularity in his temper, was proud and positive in his deportment, and had his lawsuits with several of his friends; amongst the rest with Innes of Peithock, which had brought them both to Edinburgh in the year 1576, as I take it; where the laird having met his kinsman at the Cross, fell in words with him for daring to give him a citation, and in choler either stabbed the gentleman with a dagger, or pistolled him (for it is variously reported). When he had done, his stomach would not let him fly, but he walked up and down upon the spot, as if he had done nothing that could be quarrelled (his friend’s life being but a thing that he could dispose of without being bound to account for it to any other); and there stayed until the Earl of Morton, who was Regent, sent a guard and carried him away to the Castle.

‘When he found truly the danger of his circumstances, and that his proud rash action behoved to cost him his life, he was then free to redeem that at any rate; and made an agreement for a remission with the Regent, at the price of the barony of Kilmalemnock, which this day extends to twenty-four thousand merks rent yearly.

‘The evening after the agreement was made, and writ given, being merry with his friends at a collation, and talking anent the dearness of the ransom the Regent had made him pay for his life, he vaunted that, had he his foot once loose, he would fain see what Earl of Morton durst come and possess his lands; which being told to the Regent that night, he resolved to play sure game with him; and therefore, though what he spoke was in drink, the very next day he put the sentence in execution against him by causing his head to be struck off in the Castle, and then possessed the estate.’—Hist. Acc. Fam. Innes.

This is a traditionary tale, perhaps true in the main facts; but there is reason to believe that it is to some extent misreported. On the 8th of January 1575-6, Robert Innes, of Innermarky, and James Adamson, burgess of Edinburgh, gave security to the extent of a thousand pounds, that Alexander Innes of that Ilk, being relieved from ward in Edinburgh Castle, should not go beyond the bounds of the town.

On the 18th of February, this surety was discharged by the Regent in council, in order that the laird might ‘do his utter and exact diligence for apprehending of John Innes in Garmouth, callit the Sweet Man; Thomas Innes, callit the Little; John Adam, callit Meat and Rest; and John Innes, callit the Noble; and bringing them before the justice to be punished for the slauchter of umwhile David Mawer of the Loch;’ which duty he had undertaken to perform before the 1st of August next, under pain of a thousand pounds.—P. C. R.

It is of course not impossible that after these events the laird was treated in the manner described by the family memoirs.

The Regent, seeing the present abundance of corns in the country, and considering how in bypast times of dearth the people of Scotland had ‘received large help and support of victuals out of the easter seas, France, Flanders, and England,’ thought it proper that ‘the like favour and guid neighbourheid, charity and amity, should be extendit towards the people of the said countries in this present year, when it has pleasit God to visie them with the like dearth and scarcity.’ This was the more proper, in as far as ‘the farmers sould be greatly interested, gif they were constrainit to sell their corns at the low prices now current,’ seeing that their expenses were now as great as when in other times they were getting double prices. For these and other good reasons (whereof probably not the least was a good douceur from a few corn-merchants, such as Robert Gourlay), the Regent was pleased to arrange for a short suspension of the act of parliament forbidding the export of corn out of the country, taking on himself the power of licensing that operation to a certain modified extent.—P. C. R.

‘That April, right evil weather; and the May, mickle weet and rain; and June, right evil, weet and wind; and the beir seed right late in all places, while after Sanct Colm’s Day [9th June].’—C. F.

‘This year, in the winter, appeared a terrible comet, the stern [star, forming the head] whereof was very great, and proceeding from it towards the east a long tail, in appearance of an ell and a half, like to a besom or scourge made of wands all fiery. It raise nightly in the south-west, not above a degree and a half ascending above the horizon, and continued about a sax weeks or twa month, and piece and piece wore away. The greatest effects whereof that out of our country we heard, was a great and mighty battle in Barbaria in Afric, wherein three kings were slain, with a huge multitude of people. And within the country the chasing away of the Hamiltons, &c.’—Ja. Mel.

The notices of comets given by our old historical writers and diarists have no scientific value. They are only worthy of notice, as shewing the views entertained regarding comets by the people of an early and unenlightened age. The real nature of these strangers of the sky is not yet ascertained; but we have at least come to know some of the laws by which they are governed; above all, we know the great fact, that they are obedient to law. To our ancestors, they appeared in a very different light—as menacing messengers, sent for special reasons, ‘importing change of times and states.’ Some of the views expressed regarding them are sufficiently remarkable to be worthy of preservation.

The comet of 1577 was a very noted one, seen over Europe and Asia, also in Peru, and well observed by Tycho Brahé. Its tail, according to the description of the Danish astronomer, extended over 22 degrees. Such was the real space described by James Melville as an ell and a half! This comet passed its perihelion on the 26th of October in the year mentioned, and was visible, as we see, for a considerable portion of the winter. The date here given for its first appearance in Scotland is from the Aberdeen Chronicle.

The most noted comet at this time recent, was one called in Scotland the Fiery Besom, which has been set down at various dates by English and Scottish historians, but was undoubtedly identical with that so well known in the history of astronomy as having appeared in 1556. John Knox tells us that it presented itself during the winter which he spent in Scotland before his last return to France—a time when the doctrines of the Reformation stood in the most perilous circumstances in both England and Scotland, and men’s minds were consequently in a state of great excitement. Sir James Balfour speaks of it as having portended change not only in government, but in religion, and Knox takes care to note—‘Soon after, Christian, king of Denmark, died, and war raise betwixt Scotland and England, &c.’ Modern astronomers believe this comet to be the same with one which alarmed Europe in 1264, and Professor Hind is predicting that it must speedily revisit our skies, at the very time when these sheets are passing through the press. It is a curious consideration, that a heavenly body which left the confines of our sphere on its stated journey when Cranmer stood at the stake in Oxford, should next come amongst us when we are busy with such an affair (for example) as the laying of the electric telegraph across the Atlantic.

‘The Lord Somerville had often importuned the Lords of Session for a hearing in the Inner House [of a cause respecting lands, in which he was engaged against his relation, Somerville of Cambusnethan], but was still postponed by the moyen [means] and interest of the Laird of Cambusnethan and the Lady. At length he was advised to use this policy, by one who knew the temper and avarice of Morton, then Regent. This gentleman’s advice was, that the Lord Somerville should have his advocates in readiness, and his process in form, against the next day; timely in the morning, that he might not be prevented by other solicitors, he should wait upon the Regent in his own bed-chamber, and inform him that his business was already fully debated and concluded; that only Cambusnethan had given in a petition of new, craving that his business might be heard again in presentiâ, before their decerniture, which hitherto, notwithstanding of his bill, he had hindered himself; therefore his desire should be that his royal highness99 should be pleased to call his action against Cambusnethan, that so long had been depending before them. And, whatever answer he should receive from the Regent, he desired my Lord Somerville not to be much concerned; but upon his taking leave, he should draw out his purse, and make as though he intended to give the waiting-servants some money, and thereupon slip down his purse with the gold therein, upon the table, and thereafter make quickly down stairs, without taking notice of any cry that might come after him. The Lord Somerville punctually obeyed this gentleman’s direction and advice in all points; for, having advised his business the night before with his advocates, and commanded his agents to have all his papers together against the morrow, for he hoped to bring his business to a close, being prepared, timely the next morning with his principal advocate he was with the Regent, and informed him fully of his affair; he gave a sign to his advocate to remove, as though he had something to speak to the Regent in private; when he observed his advocate to be gone, he takes his leave of the Regent, there being by good-fortune none in the room but themselves, two of the Regent’s pages, and the door-keeper within. It being the custom for noblemen and gentlemen at that time always to keep their money in purses, this the Lord Somerville draws out, as it were to take out a piece of money to give to the door-keeper, and leaves it negligently upon the table. He went quickly down stairs, and took no notice of the Regent’s still crying after him: “My lord, you have forgot your purse,” but went on still, until he came the length of the outer porch, now the Duke of Hamilton’s lodging, when a gentleman that attended the Regent came up, and told him that it was the Regent’s earnest desire that his lordship would be pleased to return and breakfast with him; which accordingly the Lord Somerville did, knowing weel that his project had taken effect.

‘About ten o’clock, the Regent went to the house, which was the same which is now the Tolbooth Church, in coach. There was none with him but the Lord Boyd and the Lord Somerville. This was the second coach that came to Scotland, the first being brought by Alexander Lord Seaton, when Queen Mary came from France. Cambusnethan, by accident, as the coach passed, was standing at Niddry’s Wynd head, and having inquired who was in it with the Regent, he was answered: “None but the Lord Somerville and the Lord Boyd;” upon which he struck his breast, and said: “This day my cause is lost;” and indeed it proved so; for about eleven hours, the 18th day of December 1577, this action was called and debated until twelve most contentiously by the advocates upon both sides.... After the debate was closed, the interlocutor passed in my Lord Somerville’s favours.... Thus ended that expensive plea betwixt the houses of Cowthally and Cambusnethan, after seven or eight years’ debate, and these lands of Lothian [Drum, Gilmerton, and Goodtrees] returned again to the Lords Somerville, when they had been fourscore years complete in the possession of the family of Cambusnethan.’—M. of S.

Although this story was transcribed from family tradition a century after the alleged occurrence, there is too much reason in the monstrous avarice of Morton to believe it near the truth.

The commencement of the lawsuit between Lord Somerville and his cousin forms an equally curious tale. The Laird of Cambusnethan had a second wife, exceedingly ambitious of the advancement of her own children. First and second alike had been favourites of King James V., and women of great beauty. To promote a match for her son with Lord Somerville’s second daughter, Lady Cambusnethan brought a package of family papers to Cowthally, intending to shew that the young man would inherit a large portion of his father’s property—namely, the Mid-Lothian estates. It happened that Mr John Maitland, younger brother of Secretary Lethington, was then living in retirement with his kinsman, Lord Somerville; and, the papers being put into his hands, he soon discovered that the lands destined for the young man were recoverable by his lordship. He took a duplicate of one important document, and then the whole were returned to Lady Cambusnethan, who by and by took her leave with a fair answer from Lord Somerville, though in reality he only felt disgust at a proposal which aimed at a severe injury to the heir of her husband’s house.

Lord Somerville and Maitland took the pleasure of hunting that afternoon. ‘During their sport, Mr Maitland takes occasion to inquire at his cousin, if his lordship’s predecessors had ever any interest in Mid-Lothian, and if he knew how they parted with the same. He answered they had; and to the best of his knowledge, the house of Cambusnethan had these among many other lands they received from his great-grandfather, Lord John, who, upon the account of his son of the second marriage, went near to have ruined his family, by reason of the great fortune he left to the son of that marriage. By this answer, Mr Maitland understood that his cousin Lord James was altogether ignorant of the way and manner of the conveyance of Drum, Gilmerton, and Goodtrees from his family to that of Cambusnethan, and therefore, in a drolling way, he asked his cousin what he would bestow upon that person that should put him in a way to recover these lands. My Lord, smiling, said: “Cousin, the bargain should soon be made, if once I saw the man that made the offer.” Whereupon Mr Maitland pulling out the paper, which was the double of King James the Fourth’s gift, delivers it to my lord, saying: “There it is that will effectuate and do that business; and seeing I am the man that has made the discovery, I crave no more but your lordship’s white gelding.” Hearing this discourse, and having read the note, Lord Somerville immediately lights from his horse, and taking his cousin all in his arms—“Here is not only my gelding, but take this, which in these troublesome times I have still kept upon me, not knowing what might befall, having, as was my duty, sided and taken part with that just interest of my princes which has had but bad success in the world.” That which the Lord Somerville gave with the gelding to his cousin was a purse sewed by his mother, Dame Janet Maitland, with silk and silver, containing twenty old pieces of gold; and, indeed, it could not be better bestowed than upon her nephew, a brave gentleman, whose great abilities and personal worth afterward brought him to be the principal officer of state in Scotland.’