The Lanarkshire lead-mines, under the care of Thomas Foulis, goldsmith in Edinburgh, and Bewis Bulmer, an Englishman, whom Thomas had assumed as partner, were now beginning to be a source of profit. The lead was transported on the backs of horses to sundry parts of the realm, but the greater part of it to Leith, where it was disposed of for exportation. Just, however, as all the mining difficulties had been overcome, the enterprisers found troubles of a different kind. The broken men of the Borders had heard of this valuable metal passing along the uplands of Clydesdale, and it seemed to them not too hazardous an adventure to cross the hills, and make a dash at such a booty. We therefore now hear of the carriers of the lead, servants of Thomas Foulis, being occasionally beset on their way, and robbed by the borderers of ‘horses, armour, clothing, and their haill carriage.’ Nearer neighbours, too, respectable men, burgesses of Lanark and Glasgow, were accused of lawlessly helping themselves to the lead and lead ore, won from the mines in Crawford Muir, not scrupling for this purpose to seize it in its passage to Leith, and dispose of it for their own benefit. Nay, these persons, it was said, had appropriated two horse-load of rye and white bread on its way to the mines, and within six miles of them, thus seriously hindering the progress of the work itself.
The Council issued a threatening proclamation against the first class of spoliators. As the latter set represented themselves as having lawfully purchased the lead in question, an order was issued that they should return or pay for it to Thomas Foulis.—P. C. R.
Owing to the fame of Andrew Melville, the university of St Andrews was this year attended by a considerable number of foreign youth, Poles, Danes, Belgians, and Frenchmen: ‘whilk crabbit the king mickle,’ Andrew being no favourite of his.—Ja. Mel.
‘Much about this time, there was a great number of witches tried to be in Scotland, as the like was never heard tell of in this realm, specially in Athole, both of men and women. There was in May at ane convention upon a hill in Athole, to the number of twenty-three hundred, and the devil amongst them. A great witch of Balwery told all this, and said she knew them all well enough, and what mark the devil had given severally to every one of them. There was many of them tried by swimming in the water, by binding of their two thumbs and their great toes together, for, being thus casten in the water, they floated ay aboon.’—Pa. And.
This ‘great witch of Balwery’ was one Margaret Aiken, who, being tortured on suspicion, not only confessed her guilt, but, for the saving of her own life, informed upon others, stating that they had a secret mark in their eyes, by which she could at once tell that they were witches. For three or four months, she was carried about the country detecting witches. At Glasgow, owing to the credulity of the minister John Cowper, several old women suffered in consequence of her accusations. In time it was found that she was a deceiver; for the same persons whom one day she declared to be guilty, she would next day, when they appeared before her in different clothes, affirm to be innocent. ‘At her trial, she affirmed all to be false that she had confessed, either of herself or others, and persisted in this till her death; which made many forthink their too great forwardness that way, and moved the king to recall the commissions given out against such persons.’—Spot.
In November we find the presbytery of Glasgow taking notice of ‘divers persons wha traduces and slanders the ministry of the city, as the authors of putting to death the persons lately execute for witchcraft;’ and it ordains that any person hereafter uttering this slander ‘shall be put in the branks at the judges’ will.’229
As a natural consequence of the deceptions of Margaret Aiken, there was now in some quarters an apprehension that, in the late proceedings against witches throughout the provinces, some injustice had been done. Some had complained ‘that grit danger may ensue to honest and famous persons, gif commissions grantit to particular men beiring particulars [that is, having anger] again’ them, sall stand and be authorised.’ The king professed to see the reality of this danger, and although it was his purpose to persevere in his efforts to extirpate that ‘maist odious and abominable crime,’ the Council (August 12) revoked all the lately granted commissions, certifying to such as hereafter ‘proceeds to the execution of persons to the deid, or melling with their guids or geir, that the same sall be repute slauchter upon forethocht, felony, and spulyie.’
At this time, the enthusiastic section of the church was in a state of discouragement; otherwise the king might not have been able to concede to the representations made to him against witch-commissions. It is too remarkable to be overlooked, that the heat of persecution against these unfortunates was generally in some proportion to the influence of the more zealous clergy, either through their direct agency or through the fear for their reproaches in others.
‘Between eight and nine in the morning, there was an earthquake which made all the north parts of Scotland to tremble; Kintail, Ross, Cromarty, Mar, Breadalbane, &c. A man in St Johnston [Perth] laying compts with his compters, the compts lap off the buird; the man’s thighs trembled; one leg went up, and another down.’—Cal.
This earthquake happening at the time when King James ‘interrupted Mr Robert Wallace and undid the ministry of St Andrews,’ James Melville likens it to that which God sent to punish Uzziah, king of Judah, for usurping the priestly office—which rent the Temple of Jerusalem, and caused a beam to hurt the king in the face, the beginning of a leprosy with which he was afflicted. He adds what he calls a Dix-huitaine on the subject, concluding in the following strain:
‘The pest began in Leith’ (Bir.), and soon ‘infected sundry parts about Edinburgh, so that many fled out of the town.’—Cal. It raged during this year in England, 17,890 persons being carried off in London alone. A fast was held in Edinburgh on account of this visit of the pestilence, from the 7th of August till the end of harvest, when it ceased. Notwithstanding the scarcity of food from October 1595 down almost to this time, the mortality in Scotland does not appear to have been great—a result probably owing in the main part to the abundant harvest of the present year.
‘Ane trouble betwixt certain servants of the Drummonds and Oliver Young, then one of the bailies of Perth, within the Hie Gait [High Street] of the said burgh; when the greatest number of the pursuers leapt the town’s walls, and so few number of them as escapit came to the Tolbooth. The agreement was made in the South Inch, the 1st of September thereafter.’—Chron. Perth.
‘The Earl of Cassillis marries Dame Jean Fleming, wha was wife to the last chancellor [Lord Thirlstane], ane very unmeet match, for she was past bairns-bearing, and he was ane young man not past twenty-three years or thereby, and his lands unheired. The king and court mockit the same marriage, and made sonnets in their contempt; and specially his majesty took his pastime of that sport.’—C. K. Sc.
‘... it pleased God to tak the Laird of Bargeny in his mercy; wha was the nobillest man that ever was in that country [Carrick] in his time. He was endued with mony guid virtues. First he fearit God, and was fra the beginning on the right side of religion. He was wise and courteous, and therewith stout and passing kind; and sic ane noble spender in outings with the best-halden house at hame that ever was in the land. He was never behind with na party, and keepit himself ever to the fore with his living. He had ever in his household twenty-four gallant gentlemen, double-horsit, and gallantly clad; with sic ane repair to his house, that it was ane wonder where the same was gotten that he spendit.’—Ken.
While so much lawless violence prevailed throughout the country at large, it was not to be expected that the Borders should be quiet. In truth, the greatest disorders prevailed in that district, particularly in the west, where certain broken clans—Armstrongs, Johnstons, Bells, Batisons, Carlyles, and Irvings—lived in a great measure by robbing and oppressing their neighbours. Occasionally, too, they would make predatory incursions into England, and thereby endanger the peace existing between the two realms. The king was at length roused to make a vigorous effort for the repression of this system of violence. He came at the beginning of this month to Dumfries, ‘of resolution not to return therefra till that turn was effectuate, as indeed his majesty did meikle to it.’—Moy. In the course of four weeks, which he spent in the town, ‘he hangit fourteen or fifteen limmers and notorious thieves.’ From every branch of the guilty clans, he took one or two of the principal men, ‘as pledges that the haill stouths and reifs committed by them, or any of their particular branch, should be redressed, and that they and all theirs should abstene from sic insolency in time coming, under pain of hanging.’230
For the reception of such persons in general, there was a pledge-chalmer—a sort of honourable jail, we presume—in Dumfries. On this occasion, however, the pledges, thirty-six in number, were distributed over his majesty’s houses, where it was ordained they should each pay 13s. 4d. weekly for their maintenance.
The arrangement for the Court of Redress at Dumfries was in characteristic terms. It was to be composed of ‘aucht special honest gentlemen of the country, least suspect, maist neutral and indifferent, and the best inclined to justice,’ with ‘twa or three of his majesty’s council appointit to be present with them.’—P. C. R.
Lord Ochiltree, whom the king appointed as warden of the west Border, ‘remainit five or six months at Dumfries, halding courts of redress, and pacifying the country. He hangit and slew three score, with the more notable thieves ... and kept the country in great quietness and guid order all this time.’—Moy.
There is a small silver toy at Dumfries, in the form of a fusee or musket, which King James is represented as having gifted to the Seven Incorporated Trades in 1598, that it might be the prize of an annual shooting-match. ‘The siller gun,’ as it is called, has till recent times accordingly been carried by the trades in procession to a shooting-field near the town, whence the victor used to bring it home stuck in his hat. Most probably, it was while spending this month in Dumfries, and not during 1598 (when he certainly did not visit the town), that he conferred this mark of his favour.
A homicide committed at this time brings out a remarkable illustration of the exclusive rule of master over man which then prevailed. On the first day of the sitting of parliament, Archibald Jardine, servitor and master-stabler to the Earl of Angus, was slain negligently by Andrew Stalker, goldsmith, at Niddry’s Wynd head. The said Andrew was apprehendit and put in prison. The young men of the town being all in arms, as they use to be in the time of the parliament, they came to his majesty, and desirit grace for the young man wha had done ane reckless deed. The king’s majesty desirit them to go to my Lord of Angus, the man’s master, and satisfy and pacify his wrath, and he should be contentit to grant his life. James Williamson, being captain to the young men, came to my Lord of Angus, offered him their manreid to be ready to serve him gif he had to do: upon the whilk, he grantit them his life, and sae the said Andrew was releasit out of prison upon the said day at even.’—Bir.
‘Thomas Foulis conceivit sickness.’—Bir. One who knew nothing more of Thomas Foulis than what Birrel tells, might be surprised to find the simple fact of his becoming sick entered in this pointed way by the old diarist. As we have already had Thomas several times under our attention, and know him for a great goldsmith, banker, and speculator in mines, we can imagine his indisposition as a public fact of that degree of consequence that a diarist might well think worth chronicling. The truth is, King James had gone deeply into debt towards Thomas for goldsmith work and ready money advanced; his creditors were now pressing him, and he had nothing wherewith to satisfy them. The unhappy man consequently fell into a ‘phrensie.’ It would appear from one chronicler as if the king had not acted humanely towards his creditor under these circumstances. It is alleged that Thomas’s offices were taken from him, and he was obliged to surrender a certain jewel of note, called the H, which he had in pledge from the king231 for the sum of twelve thousand pounds. But all this is scarcely in harmony with the fact that, in June next, one of the doings of a convention parliament was to arrange ‘that the debt awaud by his majesty to Thomas Foulis be payit in six years, namely, thirty thousand merks every year.’—Bir. Thomas was at the same time made master of the cunyie-house (mint).
It appears on the 28th May 1601, that the king owed ‘nine score thousand punds money’ to Thomas Foulis, goldsmith, Robert Jowsie, merchant-burgess of Edinburgh, and Thomas Acheson, master-cunyier, who were in consequence subject to infinite complaints from their creditors. His majesty professed ‘guid affection and desire to the payment thereof,’ and arranged that it should be discharged in the course of eleven years by a preferable power over the receipts of the royal rents. ‘His majesty als promittis to give to Thomas, his wife and bairns, during their lifetime successive after others, ane yearly pension of ane thousand punds money.’—P. C. R.
In December 1602, a piteous complaint was made before the Privy Council by Andrew Lockhart, regarding the hardship he underwent as a creditor of Thomas Foulis and Robert Jowsie, through the effect of a supersedere they had obtained for their debts. He speaks of having been, ‘with his wife and aucht bairns,’ reduced to misery, through the non-payment of what these men owed him, ‘he being ane aigit gentleman, and a brother of ane honourable house,’ The Council could not interfere, but engaged that when the present supersedere run out, which it would do erelong, no other should be granted.—P. C. R.
The impunity of numberless murders and other atrocious crimes in this reign is not more remarkable than the severity occasionally exhibited in comparatively trifling cases. For making a false writ in a matter of three hundred merks, five citizens of Edinburgh were condemned to death. Such, likewise, was the issue of the trial of John Moscrop, writer in Edinburgh, for giving himself out as a notary, and subscribing divers papers as such, he not being one. The six men appear to have all been tried on one day, and the end of the affair is chronicled by Birrel: ‘John Windieyetts, John Moscrop, Alexander Lowrie, John Halliday, and Captain James Lowrie [were] all hangit at the Cross of Edinburgh for counterfeiting false writs; whilk was great pity to see.’—Bir.
It was now five years since the tragic death of the Earl of Moray, and yet his corpse lay unburied. So also did that of the late Lord Maxwell, killed in a conflict with the Johnstons, in December 1593.
Stigmatising this as an abuse that ‘of late has croppin in,’ and in order to prevent the example from being followed, the king and Council issued an order to the respective relatives of the two noblemen, that they have the bodies buried in their ordinary places of sepulture within twenty days, under pain of rebellion.—P. C. R.
On this day, being Saturday, occurred an eclipse of the sun, total at Edinburgh, and probably so throughout the country generally. No event entirely similar had occurred within the memory of living people in Scotland, and the impression which it was naturally calculated to produce in an age when such things were regarded as prodigies, was aggravated by the critical state in which the favourite Presbyterian institutions were then believed to be placed. Men regarded it as the omen of a dark period for the Kirk of Scotland.232
‘Betwixt nine and ten forenoon,’ says Calderwood, ‘began a fearful eclipse, which continued about two hours. The whole face of the sun seemed to be covered and darkened about half a quarter of an hour, in such measure that none could see to read a book. The stars appeared in the firmament. Sea, land, and air was still, and stricken dead as it were. The ravens and fowls flocking together mourned exceedingly in their kind. Great multitudes of paddocks [frogs] ran together, making an uncouth and hideous noise; men and women were astonished, as if the day of judgment had been coming. Some women swooned. The streets of Edinburgh were full of cries. Some men ran off the streets to the kirk to pray.’
‘In the session-house or college of justice, no letter nor book could be read nor looked upon for the space of an hour for darkness, and yet in the north-east there appeared two stars. After this, the space of eight days fair weather [which] ensued, was admirable. But the day after, yea Friday and Saturday, there fell out the greatest rain that might be, in such a manner that neither plough nor harrow could gang a long time after.’—Pa. And.
‘I knew,’ says James Melville, ‘out of ephemeridis and almanack, the day and hour of it ... also, by natural philosophy, the causes. I set myself to mark the proceedings of it in a basin of water mixed with ink, thinking the matter but common. But yet, when it came to the extremity of darkness, and I myself losit all the sun, I was strucken with such fear and astonishment, that I had no refuge but to prostrate [myself] on my knees, and commend myself to God, and cry for mercy.’
‘The like fearful darkness was never seen in this land, so far as we can read in our histories, or understand from tradition. The wise and godliest thought it very prodigious, so that from pulpit and by writ, admonitions were given to the ministers, that the changeable and glittering show of the world go not in betwixt them and Christ, the Sun of Righteousness, and remove the clear light of the gospel from the kirk.’—Cal.
A Presbyterian diarist is careful to tell us the ‘notable effects of this eclipse’ in the year following; namely, the death of those famous ‘lights of the Kirk of Scotland, Mr Thomas Buchanan, Mr Robert Rollock, David Ferguson, &c.’—Ja. Mel.
‘... the Duke of Holstein, the queen’s brother, came through England to Edinburgh, and was conveyed the first night to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, where he was received and welcomed very gladly by her majesty, and used every way like a prince. His majesty hasted to Edinburgh to meet with the duke, and at his coming saluted and entertained him ... as appertained to his rank. The duke made a progress from Holyroodhouse to the other side of the Forth, the first night to Ravensheugh, Lord Sinclair’s house, and from thence to Balcomie, Pittenweem, Anstruther, St Andrews, Dundee, Foulis, Stirling, and Linlithgow, and returned again to Edinburgh. He was honourably received and banqueted all the way. His majesty gave him banquets in Holyroodhouse and Stirling sundry times, and entertained him with pastime, and all other things to his great liking and contentment; likewise he was very largely complimented by their majesties.’ That is, they gave him large presents.—Moy. R.
May 2. ‘The Duke of Holstein got ane banquet in Macmoran’s lodging,233 given by the town of Edinburgh. The king’s majesty and the queen being both there, there was great solemnity and merriness at the said banquet.’—Bir.
June 3. ‘The Duke of Holstein took his leave of the king and queen, and shipped at Leith, having got great propines [gifts]; to wit, a thousand five-pound pieces, a thousand crowns, with a hat and a string valued at twelve thousand pounds, besides other rich chains and jewels.’—Pa. And. ‘To his bonalley, sixty shot of ordnance shot off the bulwark of Leith.’—Bir.
Fynes Moryson, gentleman, who had travelled in most of the countries of Europe, being at Berwick, felt an earnest desire, before returning southwards, to see the king of Scots’ court. He therefore entered Scotland, and in one day rode to Edinburgh; after which he proceeded to Falkland, and designed to visit St Andrews and Stirling, but was prevented by unexpected business, which recalled him to England. He tells us little that is remarkable about the localities he visited, but makes some general observations regarding travelling in Scotland, which are not devoid of interest.
‘In Scotland,’ he says, ‘a horse may be hired for two shillings the first day, and eightpence the day till he be brought home; and the horse-letters used to send a footman to bring back the horse. They have no such inns as be in England; but in all places some houses are known where passengers may have meat and lodging; but they have no bushes or signs hung out, and for the horses, they are commonly set up in stables in some out-lane, not in the same house where the passenger lies. And if any man be acquainted with a townsman, he will go freely to his house, for most of them will entertain a stranger for his money. A horseman shall pay for oats and straw (for hay is rare in those parts) some eightpence day and night; and he shall pay no less in summer for grass, whereof they have no great store. Himself at a common table shall pay about sixpence for his supper or dinner, and shall have his bed free; and if he will eat alone in his chamber, he may have meat at a reasonable rate. Some twenty or thirty years ago, the first use of coaches came into Scotland; yea, were they rare even at Edinburgh. At this day, since the kingdoms of England and Scotland were united, many Scots have been promoted by the king’s favour both in dignity and estate, and the use of coaches became more frequent, yet nothing so common as in England. But the use of horse-litters hath been very ancient in Scotland, as in England, for sickly men and women of quality.’
He tells that the Scotch eat much colewort and cabbage, and little fresh meat. ‘Myself,’ he says, ‘was at a knight’s house, who had many servants to attend him, that brought in his meat with their heads covered with blue caps, the table being more than half furnished with great platters of porridge, each having a little piece of sodden meat. And when the table was served, the servants did sit down with us; but the upper mess [those sitting above the salt-vat], instead of porridge, had a pullet with some prunes in the broth. And I observed no art of cookery or furniture of household stuff, but rather rude neglect of both, though myself and companion, sent from the governor of Berwick about Border affairs, were entertained after their best manner.... They vulgarly eat hearth-cakes of oats [girdles for toasting the cakes over a fire were subsequently invented at Culross], but in cities have also wheaten bread, which for the most part was bought by courtiers, gentlemen, and the best sort of citizens.... They drink pure wines, not with sugar, as the English; yet at feasts they put comfits in the wine, after the French manner; but they had not our vintners’ fraud, to mix the wines....’
‘Their bedsteads were then like cupboards in the wall, with doors to be opened and shut at pleasure; so we climbed up to our beds. They used but one sheet, open at the sides and top, but close at the feet, and so doubled [still practised, and a comfortable custom it is].... When passengers go to bed, their custom was to present them with a sleeping-cup of wine at parting.’
‘The husbandmen, the servants, and almost all in the country, did wear coarse cloth made at home, of gray or sky colour [hodden gray], and flat blue caps very broad. The merchants in cities were attired in English or French cloth, of pale colour or mingled black and blue. The gentlemen did wear English cloth, or silk, or light stuffs, little or nothing adorned with silk lace, much less with lace of silver or gold, and all followed at this time the French fashion, especially in court. Gentlewomen married did wear close upper bodies, after the German manner, with large whalebone sleeves, after the French manner, short cloaks like the Germans, French hoods, and large falling bands round their necks. The unmarried of all sorts did go bareheaded, and wear short cloaks, with most close linen sleeves on their arms, like the virgins of Germany. The inferior sort of citizens’ wives, and the women of the country, did wear cloaks made of a coarse stuff, of two or three colours in chequer-work, vulgarly called plodan.’234
‘... Lord Home came to Lauder, [and] asked for William Lauder [bailie of that burgh, commonly called William at the West Port], being the man who hurt John Cranston (nicknamed John with the gilt sword). [William] fled to the tolbooth, as being the strongest and surest house, for his relief. But the Lord Home caused put fire to the house, and burnt it all. The gentleman remained therein till the roof-tree fell. In end he came desperately out amongst them, and hazard[ed] a shot of a pistol at John Cranston, and hurt him. But [it] being impossible to escape with life, they most cruelly without mercy hacked him with swords and whingers all in pieces.’—Pa. And.
Lady Marischal, sister of Lord Home, ‘hearing the certainty of the cruel murder of William Lauder, did mightily rejoice thereat, and writ it for good news to sundry of her friends in the country. But within less than twenty-four hours after, the lady took a swelling in her throat, both without and within, after a great laughter, and could not be cured till death seized upon her with great repentance.’235—Pa. And.
A remission for this barbarous slaughter was granted by the king, in 1606, to the Earl of Home, Hume of Hutton Hall, Thomas Tyrie, tutor of Drumkilbo, John Hume in Kells, and other persons.236
It does not appear that any effectual order was taken with the Laird of Johnston for his resistance to the royal authority at Dryfe’s Sands and the slaughter of Lord Maxwell (December 6, 1593). His turbulent proceedings at length caused him to be denounced as a rebel. A few days before this event, his portrait was hung, head downwards, on the gibbet at the Cross of Edinburgh, and he declared ‘a mansworn man.’—Bir. He was restored to his honours in 1600.
The king gave a letter of patent to Archibald Napier, apparent of Merchiston, for an invention of his, a ‘new order of gooding and manuring of field-land with common salt, whereby the same may bring forth in more abundance, both of grass and corn of all sorts, and far cheaper than by the common way of dunging used heretofore in Scotland.’ That nothing came of this plan need not be told.
The Merchiston Napiers must have been a theme of some curiosity and no little remark at this time, seeing that three generations were now living, all of them busy-brained, ingenious, and original-minded persons. First was the laird himself, master-general of the cunyie-house, still in the vigour of life, being not more than sixty-five years of age. Second was John Napier, the fiar or heir, only sixteen years the junior of his father, constantly engaged in puzzling out profound problems in mathematics and prophecies in the Apocalypse. Finally, this grandson of the laird, a youth of four-and-twenty, and already, as we see, exhibiting the active intellect of the family.
Archibald became a favourite courtier of James VI. and Charles I., by the latter of whom he was raised to the peerage. He joined the anti-covenanting party, and endured some adversity in his latter days.
The carboniferous formation, as is well known, does not extend in Scotland beyond the Ochils; but in the remote county of Sutherland, on the coast at Brora, there is a patch of oolite, in the lower section of which is a workable bed of coal, between three and four feet thick. John, tenth Earl of Sutherland, had discovered this valuable deposit, but being cut off by poison (anno 1567), he had no opportunity of trying to turn it to advantage. The Sutherland estates were now under the management of a woman of some force of character, and who has by accident a place in our national history—Lady Jean Gordon. Being divorced by Bothwell, in order to admit of his marriage to Queen Mary, she had subsequently married one Earl of Sutherland, and become the mother of another, for whom she was now acting. By this clever countess the coal of Brora was for the first time worked, not merely for its use in domestic purposes, but as a means of establishing a salt-work. Some pans being erected by her ‘a little by-west the entry of the river,’ there was good salt made there, ‘which served not only Sutherland and the neighbouring provinces, but also was transported into England and elsewhere.’ This was a good effort, but, like all similar enterprises in that rude age, it met with interruptions. One vigorous renewed effort was made by the countess’s son, Earl John, in 1614. It was not, however, till our own time, when the first Duke of Sutherland spent £16,000 on the coal-works, and £2337 on the salt-works, that the original designs of Countess Jean could be said to be fully realised. The works are stated to have given forth twenty thousand tons of coal between the years 1814 and 1826.237
‘... ane man, some callit him a juggler, playit sic supple tricks upon ane tow, whilk was fastenit betwixt the top of St Giles’s Kirk steeple and ane stair beneath the Cross, callit Josia’s Close head, the like was never seen in this country, as he rade down the tow and playit sae mony pavies on it.’—Bir.
Practitioners of such dangerous arts were not uncommon in those days. The death, in Edinburgh, of one Kirkaldy, ‘who had before danced at the cock of the steeple [St Giles’s],’ is noted in the history of the civil broils of 1571.238
Mr James Melville reports in 1600: ‘Being in Falkland, I saw a funambulus, a Frenchman, play strange and incredible proticks upon stented tackle in the palace close before the king, queen, and haill court.’ He adds the vulgar surmise of the day: ‘This was politickly done, to mitigate the queen and people for Gowrie’s slaughter.’
It appears that these diverting vagabonds were well rewarded. The juggler of 1598, called an ‘English sporter,’ had twenty pounds from the king for the steeple-trick. Two months after, six pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence was ordered to ‘David Weir, sporter,’ supposed to be the same person. To Peter Bramhill, the French pavier—that is, player of pavies—there is a precept from his majesty, ordering him no less a sum than £333, 6s. 8d.239—but of course Scottish money.
‘This year the wheat was blasted.’—Chron. Perth. ‘The ait meal sold for 6s. the peck.’—Bir.
There was, consequently, towards the end of the year, ‘ane extraordinar dearth of all kinds of pultrie and other vivres,’ throughout the realm, but particularly did this kind of scarcity prevail in Edinburgh, ‘where his hieness, his nobility and council, in sundry seasons of the year, make their chief residence.’ The king issued a proclamation, fixing a minimum of prices for the said articles, not to be exceeded under certain penalties. This, however, was now found ‘likely to become altogether ineffectual, partly through the avaritious greediness of some persons wha forestalls and buys the pultrie in grit, and keeps the same in secret houses, and there sells the same far above the prices exprest in the proclamation,’ and partly by the negligence of magistrates, who take no care to punish ‘the authors of this disorder.’ For these reasons, a more rigorous and menacing proclamation was now made.
A fortnight after, followed an edict of Council against twenty-four poultrymen of Edinburgh (surprising there should have then been so many in the business), who, it was said, had contravened the late proclamation by forestalling and secretly selling their poultry at high prices, representing the fowls as ‘his majesty’s awn kain fowls, or that they are bocht by them for his majesty’s awn mouth ... slanderand his majesty hereby, as if his majesty were the chief cause of the break of the said proclamation.’
It is amusing to observe the apparent astonishment of the king and his councillors on finding how little respect was paid to edicts of this kind, as if it were a most unrighteous and undutiful thing of the people to try to get prices for articles proportionate to the small quantity there was to sell. We must not, however, be too ready to indulge in a smile at the false political economy of the Scottish monarch of 1598, when we remember that a law-made scarcity of vivres was kept up in Great Britain till 1846, and observe that at the present day the sovereign of France still dictates the prices at which beef and mutton are to be sold in Paris. At the very time when this notice is penned (September 1856), the newspapers describe the conduct of butchers in Paris as precisely that of the twenty-four poultrymen of Edinburgh in 1599; that is to say, they sell their meat in secret to persons who will give suitable prices.
Considering the scarcity which marked the close of 1598, it is not surprising to find the Chronicle of Perth adverting next year to ‘ane great deid among the people.’
The Privy Council Record at this date gives an anecdote which reads like a tale of patriarchal times—the time when Jacob told his sons to go down into Egypt and buy corn, ‘that we may live and not die.’
On some recent occasion of pestilence, Dumfries, being specially and severely afflicted, was, as usual, sequestered from all intercourse and traffic—its markets became altogether decayed, and the inhabitants, in addition to all their other distresses, found themselves ‘evil handlit for want of necessar sustentation.’ In these circumstances, it seemed good to them to send two of their number, unsuspected of infection, to the country about the Water of Cree in Galloway, to purchase cattle. The two men, James Sharpe and John Mertine, set forth on this quest, and, coming to the burgh of Wigtown, were there well received by the magistrates, who seemed willing to give them Christian help and countenance for their object, on the condition that the cattle were paid for and the burgh of Wigtown satisfied in their customs. Thus sanctioned, the Dumfries emissaries went into the country and bought thirty-eight nolt, which they began to drive towards Dumfries, looking for no interruption or impediment. At Monygaff on the Water of Cree, they were met by a large armed party under the command of Patrick Ahannay, provost of Wigtown, and John Edgar and Archibald Tailfer, bailies, who laid violent hands upon them, and carried them and their cattle to Wigtown. We do not learn what was the motive of this conduct, but may reasonably surmise it was some claim in the way of custom which the Dumfriessians had failed to satisfy. At Wigtown the cattle were detained eight days, getting gradually leaner for want of food, till at last they were ‘extreme lean;’ and it was not till their owners had paid a hundred merks, that they were allowed to proceed with the beeves to the starving burgh of Dumfries.
This pitiable affair, which reads so strangely of Dumfries, now the scene of magnificent markets for the transfer of cattle, came under the notice of the Privy Council, and was remitted to the ordinary judges to be settled by them as they might think best.—P. C. R.
Thomas Lorn, residing at Overton of Dyce, was brought before the provost of Aberdeen, accused of ‘hearing of spreits, and wavering ofttimes frae his wife, bairns, and family, by the space of seven weeks,’ they not knowing ‘where he has been during the said space.’ He agreed that, if he should ever be found absenting himself in that manner, without giving warning, he should suffer death ‘as ane guilty person, dealer with spreits.’—Ab. C. R.
Andrew Melville, of whose courage and zeal for pure presbytery Scottish history is at this time full, presided at a disputation in the theological hall of St Mary’s College, St Andrews, where the question was, ‘Whether by divining or diabolical force of witches and hags, bodies may be transported or transformed, or souls released for a time from bodies, and whether this transportation or transformation of bodies, or resemblance of a projected corpse, without sense and motion, as if the soul were banished, be a simple lethargy, or a certain evidence of execrable demonomania?‘240
If the reader be at a loss to conceive how any body of learned men could gravely treat such a question, he may have the fact verified to his mind by looking into King James’s book on Demonologie, where the same matter is fully debated between Philomathes and Epistemon, the two interlocutors in the dialogue of which that treatise consists. In answer to the question of Philomathes, by what means may it be possible for witches to come to those conventions where they worship the devil and receive his orders, Epistemon coolly says: ‘One way is natural, which is natural riding, going, or sailing: this may be easily believed. Another way is somewhat more strange ... being carried by the force of the spirit which is their conductor, either above the earth or above the sea swiftly, to the place where they meet; which I am persuaded to be likewise possible, in respect that as Habakkuk was carried by the angel in that form to the den where Daniel lay, so think I, the devil will be ready to imitate God as well in that as in other things.... The third way is that wherein I think them deluded: for some of them say that, being transported in the likeness of a little beast or fowl, they will come and pierce through whatsoever house or church, though all passages be closed, by whatsoever open the air may enter in at: and some say, that their bodies lying still, as in an ecstasy, their spirits will be ravished out of their bodies and carried to such places; and, for verifying thereof, will give evident tokens, as well by witnesses that have seen their body lying senseless in the meantime, as by naming persons whom-with they met, and giving token what purpose was amongst them, whom otherwise they could not have known; for this form of journeying they affirm to use most, when they are transported from one country to another.’
The reformed clergy did not at first take a decidedly hostile view of theatricals, and we have seen that even the Regent Moray allowed a play to be represented before him. In March 1574, the General Assembly forbade the playing of ‘clerk plays,’ and ‘comedies and tragedies made of the canonical scriptures’ both on Sabbath and work-days; but as to ‘comedies, tragedies, and other profane plays not made upon authentic parts of scripture,’ they were willing that such might be considered before they be proposed publicly, provided they were to be set forth on work-days only.—B. U. K.
Accordingly, it is not surprising that, when a company of comedians came to Perth in June 1589, and applied to the kirk-session for a licence to represent a play, of which they produced a copy, that reverend court expressed itself as follows: ‘Perth, June 3, 1589.—The minister and elders give licence to play the play, with conditions that no swearing, banning, nor nae scurrility shall be spoken, whilk would be a scandal to our religion, and for an evil example to others. Also, that nothing shall be added to what is in the register of the play itself. If any one who plays shall do in the contrary, he shall be wardit, and make his public repentance.’—P. K. S. R.
These are among the proofs to the general conclusion, that the puritanic strictness for which Scotland has been noted, did not reach its acme during the first age succeeding the Reformation.
Ten years had since elapsed, during which the English drama had passed through a vigorous adolescence, drawing the highest wits of the land into its service. No regular theatre had been set up in Scotland, nor was the time come when one could be supported; but some inclination was manifested by the London acting companies to pay occasional visits to the north, where the mirth-loving king and his court were ready to patronise them. The clergy were by this time disposed to look more sourly on the children of Thespis. An English company did come to Edinburgh about October 1599—possibly the Blackfriars company, to which Shakspeare belonged; but on this point, and as to the question whether Shakspeare was of the party, we have no information. It received a licence from the king to perform.