Among the violences of the age, what would now be called agrarian outrages were very common. Sometimes it was a pretender to proprietorship who came in to trouble the tenants of the landlord in possession; sometimes a tenant was the object of wrathful jealousy among persons of his own class. Of the former order of troubles we have an example at this time, in a charge brought before the Privy Council (February 19, 1601) against David Hamilton, younger, of Bothwell-haugh, ‘servant to the Laird of Innerwick.’ It was for the turning out of his wife from Woodhouselee, that Hamilton of Bothwell-haugh murdered the Good Regent. We now see his representative breaking other laws on account of the same lands.269 Sir James Bellenden of Broughton, who was landlord de facto, complains against David Hamilton, that, with a company ‘bodin and furnist in feir of weir,’ he had come, on the 10th of February instant, to the tenants of the lands of Woodhouselee, ‘where they were in peaceable and quiet maner at their plews,’ and there assailed them with furious speeches, ‘threatening to have their lives gif they insistit in manuring and lawboring of the said lands,’ and actually compelled them through fear to give up their work. As David failed to appear and answer this charge, letters were ordered to denounce him as a rebel.

Before a month elapsed, the Council had under its attention a still more violent affair, forming a specimen of the second class of outrages. The complainer here is Patrick Monypenny of Pilrig—an estate with an old manor-house situated between Edinburgh and Leith. Patrick states that he was of mind to have set that part of his lands of Pilrig, called the Round-haugh, to Harry Robertson and Andrew Alis, to his utility and profit. But on a certain day not specified, David Duff, indweller in Leith, came to these persons, and uttered furious menaces against them in the event of their occupying these lands, so that they had departed from their purpose of occupying them. Duff, accompanied with two men named Matheson, had also, on the 2d March instant, attacked the servants of Monypenny, as they were labouring the lands in question, with similar speeches, threatening their lives if they persisted in working there; and at night, they, or some persons hounded out by them, had come and broken their plough, and thrown it into the river. ‘John Matheson, after the breaking of the complenar’s plew, come to John Porteous’s house, his tenant, and bad him gang now betwix the plew stilts, and see how she wald gang while [till] the morn.’ To this was added a threat to break his head if he should ever say that Duff had broken his plough. ‘Likeas the said David sinsyne come to the complenar’s lands, being tilled, and trampit and cast the tilled furs down, thus committing manifest oppression upon the complainant.’ In this case, the accused persons were assoilzied, but only, it would appear, by hard swearing in their own cause.

‘The king’s majesty came to Perth, and was made burgess at the mercat-cross. There was ane puncheon of wine set there, and all drucken out. He receivit the banquet frae the town, and subscribit the guild book with his awn hand—“Jacobus Rex: parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos.”’—Chron. Perth.

John Watt, Deacon of the deacons in Edinburgh, or he would have latterly been called Convener of the Trades, was shot dead on the Burgh-moor. This was the same gallant official who raised the trades for the protection of the king at the celebrated tumult of the 17th December 1596. One Alexander Slummon, a by-stander, was tried for the murder, but found innocent. We are told by Calderwood that Watt, having offered to invade the person of the minister, Robert Bruce, was well liked by the king, who accordingly was exact in regard to Slummon’s trial. The historian also relates that ‘the judgment threatened against this man by Mr Robert Bruce came to pass.’ Such threatenings or prognostications of judgments are of course very likely to bring their own fulfilment.

‘Sundry Jesuits, seminary priests, and trafficking papists, enemies to God’s truth and all Christian government,’ were stated to be at this time ‘daily creeping within the country,’ with the design, ‘by their godless practices, not only to disturb the estate of the true religion, but also his hieness’ awn estate, and the common quietness of the realm.’—P. C. R.

William Barclay, a new-made advocate, brother of Sir Patrick Barclay of Tollie, was tried in Edinburgh for the crime of being present at ‘twa messes whilk were said by Mr Alex. M‘Whirrie, ane Jesuit priest, within Andro Napier’s dwelling-house in Edinburgh,’ aggravated by perjury, he having some time before sworn and subscribed before the presbytery of Edinburgh, that he was of the religion presently professed within the realm. The culprit was declared infamous, and banished from the country, ‘never to return to the same, unless, by satisfaction of the kirk, he obtain our special licence to that effect.’—Pit. Cal.

A week later, Malcolm Laing and Henry Gibson, servants of the Marquis of Huntly, confessing their having been present ‘at the late mass within the burgh of Edinburgh,’ were adjudged by the Council to banishment for life. At the same time, two female servants of the marchioness having made similar confession, the Council, ‘seeing their remaining with the said marquesse may procure a forder sclander to the kirk,’ ordained that her ladyship should remove them from her company, and no more receive them, under pain of rebellion.

‘... Archibald Cornwall, town-officer, hangit at the Cross, and hung on the gibbet twenty-four hours; and the cause wherefore he was hangit—He being an unmerciful greedy creature, he poindit ane honest man’s house, and among the rest, he poindit the king and queen’s pictures; and when he came to the Cross to comprise the same, he hung them up upon twa nails on the same gallows to be comprisit; and they being seen, word gaed to the king and queen, whereupon he was apprehendit and hangit.’—Bir.

Cornwall sustained a regular trial before a jury, eight of whom were tailors. The dittay bears that ‘in treasonable contempt and disdain of his majesty, he stood up upon ane furm or buird, beside the gibbet, and called [drove] ane nail therein, as heich as he could reach it, and lifted up his hieness’ portraitor foresaid, and held the same upon the gibbet, pressing to have hung the same thereon, and to have left it there, as an ignominious spectacle to the haill world, gif he had not been stayed by the just indignation of the haill people, menacing to stane him dead, and pulling him perforce frae the gibbet.’

The punishment goes so monstrously beyond the apparent offence, that one is led to suspect something which does not appear. The ‘honest man’ whose goods were taken might be a known friend of the king, while Cornwall was known to be the reverse. It was perhaps inferred that the ‘unmerciful greedy creature’ was only too ready to embrace the opportunity of holding up the king to contempt. These remarks are only meant to suggest motives, not to justify the severity of the punishment.

The gibbet on which the portrait had been hung—as something rendered horrible by that profanity—was ‘taken down and burnt with fire.’

James Wood, fiar—that is, heir—of Bonnington, in Forfarshire, was a Catholic, and received excommunication on that account a few years before. He had at the same time had quarrels with his father regarding questions of property. In March of the present year, he again drew observation upon himself by coming to Edinburgh and attending the mass in Andrew Napier’s house. It was further alleged of him that he had harboured a seminary priest. On the 16th of March, accompanied by his brother-in-law, William Wood of Latoun, by two blacksmiths named Daw, and some other persons, he broke into his father’s house, and took therefrom certain legal papers belonging to the Lady Usen, besides a quantity of clothes, napery, and blankets. The circumstances connected with this act, did we know them, would probably extenuate the criminality. The father made no movement to prosecute his son. He was, however, tried along with Wood of Latoun before an assize in Edinburgh; when both were found guilty, and condemned to be hanged. Wood of Latoun obtained a remission, and great interest was made for the principal culprit by the Catholic nobles, Huntly, Errol, and Home. James might have listened favourably, and been content, as in Kincaid’s case, with a good fine payable ‘to us and our treasurer;’ but ‘the ministers were instant with the king, to have a proof of his sincerity:’ so says Calderwood, without telling us whether it was his sincerity against papists or his sincerity against malefactors in general that was meant. The young man regarded himself, by admission of the same author, as suffering for the Catholic religion—though, perhaps, he only meant that, but for his being a papist, his actual guilt would not have been punished so severely. He was beheaded at the Cross at six o’clock in the morning, ‘ever looking for pardon to the last gasp.’—Pit. Cal. Bir.

The General Assembly arranged that certain ministers should go to the Catholic nobles, Huntly, Errol, Angus, Home, and Herries, and plant themselves in their families for the purpose of converting them from their errors. These ministers were to labour at all times for this object by preaching, reading, and expounding, and by purging the said houses of profane and scandalous persons. They were also to catechise their families twice a day, ‘till they attain some good reasonable measure of knowledge.’—Row.

It fully appears that this arrangement was carried into effect. We find in 1604 that Lord Gordon, the eldest son of the Marquis of Huntly, and the Master of Caithness, eldest son of the Earl of Caithness, were being brought up together, under the care of two pedagogues, Thomas Gordon and John Sinclair, who were compelled to declare themselves adherents of the reformed faith, and examined as to the nature of the religious instructions which they imparted. John Sinclair admitted that, in France, he had gone to mass, but only for the purpose of seeing the king there. The mass itself he professed to ‘abhor and detest frae his heart.’ The two pedagogues stated that they instructed the two young nobles in grammar and oratory, and on Sunday trained them by a little catechism, besides reading and expounding of the New Testament.—A. P. R.

In 1609, to insure that the sons of noblemen sent abroad under preceptors, should not be liable to have their religious convictions perverted, it was enacted by parliament that no preceptor could lawfully undertake such a duty without a licence from the bishop of his diocese.

An effort was made at this time by the burghs to introduce a cloth-manufacture into Scotland. Seven Flemings were engaged to settle in the country, in order to set the work agoing, six of them being for says, and the seventh for broadcloth. When the men came, expecting to be immediately set to work in Edinburgh, a delay arose while it was debated whether they should not be dispersed among the principal towns, in order to diffuse their instructions as widely as possible. We find the strangers on the 28th of July, complaining to the Privy Council that they were neither entertained nor set to work, and that it was proposed to sunder them, ‘whilk wald be a grit hinder to the perfection of the wark.’

The Council decreed that ‘the haill strangers brought hame for this errand sall be halden together within the burgh of Edinburgh, and put to work conform to the conditions past betwix the said strangers and the commissioners wha dealt with them.’ Meanwhile, till they should begin their work, the Council ordained ‘the bailies of Edinburgh to entertene them in meat and drink,’ though this should be paid back to them by the other burghs, and the strangers were at the same time to be allowed to undertake any other work for their own benefit.—P. C. R.

On the 11th of September, the burghs had done nothing to ‘effectuat the claith working,’ and the Council declared that unless they should have made a beginning by Michaelmas, the royal privilege would be withdrawn.

The bare, half-moorish uplands of Buchan, in Aberdeenshire, are varied, on the course of the river Ythan, by a deep woody dell, on the edge of which is perched an ancient baronial castle, named Gight. Here dwelt a branch of the noble house of Huntly—the Gordons of Gight—noted in modern literary history by reason of the heiress, in whom the line ended, having thrown herself and her family property into the arms of a certain spendthrift named Byron, by whom she became the mother of one who flourished as the most noted poet of his day.270 The old castellated house in which these lairds lived, and the moderate estate which gave them subsistence, have for seventy years been part of the possessions of the Earl of Aberdeen, for whose visitors the ruined walls and the wildering dell are now merely matters of holiday interest.271 At the time of which we are speaking, the Laird of Gight was a personage of some local importance, a baron of the house of Gordon, a noted supporter of the marquis in all his enterprises; above all, a man deeply offensive to the government of his day, on account of his obstinate adherence to popery.

The kirk had levelled its artillery at George Gordon, the young laird, for a long time in vain; he had always hitherto contrived to put them off with fair promises. Now at length the presbytery of Aberdeen met in a stern mood, and appeared as if it would be trifled with no longer. Gordon, feeling that his means of resistance were failing, wrote a pleading letter to the reverend court, telling how he was deadly diseased, and unable to leave the country, but was willing, if agreeable to them, to confine himself within a mile of his own house, ‘and receipt nane wha is excommunicat (my bedfellow excepted);’ or he would go into confinement anywhere else, and confer with Protestant clergymen as soon as his sickness would permit. ‘I persuade myself,’ he adds, ‘you will nocht be hasty in pronouncing the sentence of excommunication against me, for I knaw undoubtedly that sentence will prejudge my warldly estate, and will be ane great motive to you in the kirk of Scotland to crave my blude.’ He concludes: ‘If it shall please his majesty and your wisdoms of the Kirk of Scotland sae to tak my blude for my profession, whilk is Catholic Roman, I will maist willingly offer it; and, gif sae be, God grant me constancy to abide the same.’ This letter proved unsatisfactory to the court, seeing it ‘made nae offer that micht move them to stay from the excommunication.’ Therefore, the court in one voice concluded that, unless Gordon came forward in eight days with sufficient surety for either subscribing or departing, he should be excommunicated without further delay.

While thus appearing as willing to be martyrs for religious principle, the Gight Gordons were no better in secular morality than many of the Presbyterian leaders of the past age. Indeed, they appear to have been men of fully as wild and passionate temper as their descendant, the mother of the poet. Having, for some reason which does not appear, a spite at Magnus Mowat of Balquhollie, the laird and two of his younger sons had, in June this year, gone with a large armed and mounted company to his lands, and destroyed all the growing crops. Following upon this, they conceived mortal wrath against Alexander Copeland and Ralph Ainslie, inhabitants of the village of Turriff, probably in consequence of some circumstances in connection with the above outrage. On the 18th of July, John Gordon, the second son, came to Turriff with a friend and a servant, and, attacking these men with deadly weapons, wounded the latter past hope of his life. The minister came out and interfered in behalf of peace, promising that the whole inhabitants should be answerable for any injury the men had done. But though the Gordons left the village for the time, they returned in greater strength at midnight—and on this occasion both the laird and his eldest son were present—broke into the house of William Duffus, and bringing him forth to the street ‘sark-allane,’ there had nearly taken his life by firing at him a charge of small-shot.

Alexander Chalmer, messenger, went on the 27th of September to deliver letters to the Laird of Gight and others, commanding them to appear and answer for these frightful outrages. He was returning quietly from the house, ‘lippening for nae harm or pursuit,’ when he found himself followed by a number of armed servants, and was presently seized and dragged before the laird. The ferocious baron clapped a pistol to the man’s breast, and seemed of intent to shoot him, when some one mercifully put aside the weapon. ‘He then harlit him within his hall, took the copy of the said letters, whilk he supposed to have been the principal letters, and cast them in a dish of broe [broth], and forcit the officer to sup and swallow them,’ holding a dagger at the heart all the time. Afterwards, the laird, being informed that the principal letters were yet extant, ‘came to the officer in a new rage and fury, rave the principal letters out of his sleeve, rave them in pieces, and cast them in the fire.’

When King James was at Brechin in the latter part of October, the Laird of Gight failing to appear to answer for these outrages, a horning was launched against him. At the same time, the young laird was accused of having reset John Hamilton, a notorious trafficking Jesuit, and was commanded to enter himself in ward in Montrose on that account. Surety was given that he would do so. A few days later, the Privy Council took into consideration the Turriff outrages, and commissioned the Earl of Errol to raise a body of men in arms to proceed against the Gordons and their abettors, but not till the 15th of November. How the matter ended, does not appear; but for further matters concerning the Gight Gordons, see under date 20th January 1607.

Among the many men of name pursuing lawless and violent courses, one of the most noted was George Meldrum, younger, of Dumbreck. In 1599, he set upon his brother Andrew at the Milltown of Dumbreck, and wounded him grievously, after which he carried him away, and detained him as a prisoner for several weeks. In the ensuing year, he had committed a similar attack upon Andrew Meldrum of Auchquharties, conveying him as a malefactor from Aberdeenshire to the house of one Fyfe, on the Burgh-moor of Edinburgh, where he was kept several days, and till he contrived to make his escape. Law and private vengeance were alike devoid of terror to this young bravo, who seems never to have had any difficulty in procuring associates to assist him in his outrageous proceedings.

About the time here noted, he entered upon an enterprise partaking of the romantic, and which has actually been the subject of ballad celebration, though under a mistake as to his name and condition in life. Mr Alexander Gibson, one of the clerks of Session, and who subsequently was eminent as a judge under the designation of Lord Durie, was, for some reason which does not appear, honoured with the malice of young Dumbreck. Possibly, there was some legal case pending or concluded in which Gibson stood opposed to the interests of the brigand. However it was, Gibson was living quietly at St Andrews—he being a landed gentleman of Fife—when Meldrum, tracking him by a spy, learned one day that he was riding with a friend and a servant on the water-side opposite Dundee. Accompanied by a suitable party, consisting of two Jardines, a Johnston—border thieves, probably—one called John Kerr, son to the Tutor of Graden, and Alexander Bartilmo, with two foot-boys, all armed with sword, hagbuts, and pistols, he set upon Mr Gibson and his friend in a furious manner, compelling them to surrender to him as prisoners; after which he robbed them of their purses, containing about three hundred merks in gold and silver, and hurried them southward to the ferry of Kinghorn. There, having liberated the friend and servant, he conducted Mr Gibson across the Firth of Forth, probably using some means, such as muffling of the face, to prevent his prisoner from being recognised. At least, we can scarcely suppose that, even in that turbulent age, it would have been possible otherwise to conduct so important and well-known a man as an involuntary prisoner to the house of William Kay in Leith, and thence past the palace of Holyroodhouse through the whole county of Edinburgh, and thence again to Melrose, for such was the course they took. Before entering Melrose, Meldrum divided the money they had taken between himself and his accomplices, each getting about twenty merks. He then conducted Mr Gibson across the Border, landing him in the castle of Harbottle, which appears to have then been the residence of one George Ratcliff; and here the stolen lawyer was kept in strict durance for eight days.272 We may here adopt something of the traditionary story, as preserved by Sir Walter Scott: ‘He was imprisoned and solitary; receiving his food through an aperture in the wall, and never hearing the sound of a human voice save when a shepherd called his dog by the name of Batty, and when a female domestic called upon Madge, the cat. These, he concluded, were invocations of spirits, for he held himself to be in the dungeon of a sorcerer.’273

How Mr Gibson was liberated, we do not learn. During his absence, his wife and children mourned him as dead.274 George Meldrum contrived, in November 1603, to gain forcible possession of his brother Andrew’s house of Dumbreck; and there he hoped to set law at defiance. The case, however, was too clamant to allow of his escaping in this manner. A party of his majesty’s guard being sent to Aberdeen for his capture, the citizens added a force of sixteen men, with a commander, and then a regular siege was established round the den of the outlaw. Being compelled to submit, he was carried to Edinburgh; and subjected to a trial, which ended in his having the head struck from his body at the Cross, January 12, 1604.

At this time, Aberdeen was visited by a company of players, who bore the title of the ‘king’s servants,’ and had come ‘recommended by his majesty’s special letter.’ They performed ‘comedies and stage-plays,’ according to the somewhat awkward report of the town-council record, where it is stated that the provost, bailies, and council ordained a present to them of thirty-two merks, equal to about 35s. 6d. sterling. On the 22d of October, thirteen days after the ordinance for this gift, the council conferred the freedom of the burgh—the highest mark of honour they had it in their power to bestow—upon a batch of strangers, among whom were Sir Francis Hospital, a French nobleman, and several Scottish gentlemen of rank and importance; among whom, also, was ‘Lawrence Fletcher, comedian to his majesty,’ being apparently the chief of the histrionic company then performing in the city.

This fact has an extrinsic interest, on account of Fletcher being known to have belonged to the company of players in London which included the immortal Shakspeare. About eighteen months after this time, May 1603, immediately after James VI. arrived in London to take possession of the English throne, he granted a patent in favour of the players acting at the Globe Theatre, ‘Pro Laurentio Fletcher, Gulielmo Shakspeare, et aliis,’ and which licenses the performances of ‘Lawrence Fletcher, William Shakspeare, Richard Burbage, Augustine Phillips, John Hemings, Henry Condel, William Sly, Robert Armin, Richard Cowley, and the rest of their associates.’ It has therefore been judged as not unlikely that Shakspeare was present on this occasion in Aberdeen, as one of the company of ‘the king’s servants’ headed by Fletcher—a probability which Mr Charles Knight has shewn to be not inconsistent with other facts known regarding Shakspeare’s movements and proceedings about the time, and to be favoured by many passages in the subsequently written tragedy of Macbeth, which argue a more correct and intimate knowledge of Scotland than is usually possessed by individuals who have not visited it.275

The presbytery of Aberdeen was occupied with the case of Walter Ronaldson of Kirktown of Dyce, a man who was ‘a diligent hearer of the word, and communicat with the sacrament of the Lord’s Table.’ Walter was brought before the reverend court for ‘familiarity with a spirit.’ He confessed that, twenty-seven years before, ‘there came to his door a spirit, and called upon him, “Wattie, Wattie!” and therefrae removed, and thereafter came to him every year twa times sinsyne, but [he] saw naething.’ At Michaelmas in the bypast year, ‘it came where the deponer was in his bed sleeping, and it sat down anent the bed upon a kist, and callit upon him, saying “Wattie, Wattie!” and then he wakened and saw the form of it, whilk was like ane little body, having a shaven beard, clad in white linen like a sark, and it said to Walter: “Thou art under wrack—gang to the weachman’s house in Stanivoid, and there thou shall find baith silver and gold with vessel.”’ Walter proceeded to say that, in compliance with this direction, he went with some friends and spades to Stanivoid in order to search. He himself was ‘poustless’ [unable to act]; but his friends searched, and found nothing. He expressed his belief, nevertheless, that ‘there is gold there, gif it was weel sought.’ Walter was remitted to his parish minister, ‘to try forder of him.’—A. P. R.

The pest was declared to have at this time broken out in the town of Crail in Fife, and in the parishes of Eglesham, Eastwood, and Pollock in Renfrewshire. Orders for secluding the population of those places were, as usual, issued.—P. C. R.

On the 21st of December, the pest was understood to have entered Glasgow. The inhabitants of that city were therefore forbidden to visit Edinburgh.

On the 26th of January 1602, it is stated that the infected families of Crail, being put forth upon the neighbouring moor, and there being no provision for ‘the entertening of the puir and indigent creatures,’ they had wandered throughout the country in quest of food, and thus endangered the spread of the disease. The sheriff of Fife was ordered to see provision made for these people, and to take measures for punishing those who had wandered.

On the 4th of February, the pestilence was in Edinburgh, and the Court of Session was obliged in consequence to rise. Birrel notes: ‘The 19 of February, John Archibald with his family were taken out to the Burrow-muir, being infectit with the pest.’ Probably others immediately followed. This circumstance brings before us the celebrated John Napier, younger of Merchiston, who, on the 11th of March, complained to the Privy Council that the magistrates having ploughed up and turned to profitable service the place where they used formerly to lodge people infected with the pest, had on this occasion planted the sick in certain yards or parks of his at the Scheens, without any permission being asked. The magistrates did not come forward to defend themselves; nevertheless, the Council, considering the urgency of the demands of the public service, ordained that the lands in question should be left in the hands of the magistrates till next Candlemas, on terms to be agreed upon.

On the 16th of March, the pest still increasing in Edinburgh, the king took thought of Dunfermline, ‘being the ordinar residence of the queen, his dearest spouse, and of their majesties’ bairns,’ and ordained that, for its preservation from the contagion, the passage by the Queensferry should be stopped. He himself seems to have at the same time gone north to Brechin, where we find the Privy Council held for some weeks.

The 20th of May was ‘ane solemn day of fasting and thanksgiving for his merciful deliverance of the pest.’—Bir.

Owing to the influence of the noble family of Maxwell, popery had a great harbourage in the town of Dumfries. At this time denunciations were launched against sundry gentlemen connected with the place—William, Lord Herries; John, Master of Herries; Walter Herries of Knockshinnan, Edward Maxwell of the Hills, John Herries in Braco, Robert Herries in Killiloch, Adam Corsan, John Corsan, Robert Carran, John Horner, Matthew Forsyth, John Gibson, Robert Ka, Patrick Ka, Mr John Maxwell, and upwards of a dozen more, charging them with contravening sundry ‘guid and loveable acts of parliament and secret council’ against saying and hearing of mass, and entertaining priests. Mr John Hamilton, and Mr William Brown, sometime commendator of New Abbey, had been kept amongst them, and they had heard these men say mass, and allowed them to baptise some children, to the displeasure of God, and contempt of the king and his laws. For these reasons they were summoned to appear and answer, under pain of rebellion.—P. C. R.

On the 24th of December, sixteen of the men who had been summoned, including Lord Herries, appeared. For some others a certification was presented, that they were prevented by infirmity from travelling. Those who appeared were asked to declare upon their oath what they knew about the matters in the charge; and on their refusing to do so, they were ordained to be kept in ward in Edinburgh till they should be tried for their alleged offence. The others were again summoned.

These, on the 14th of January, the day appointed for their appearing, failed to appear, and were denounced as rebels.

Great hatred and strife had now lasted for some years between the Earl of Cassillis276 and Sir Thomas Kennedy of Colzean, on the one side, and the Laird of Bargeny, the Laird of Blairwhan, the Laird of Girvanmains, and some other Carrick gentlemen, on the other. The crafty Laird of Auchindrain, though professedly reconciled to Sir Thomas Kennedy,277 was mainly on the side of Bargeny, who was his brother-in-law. It is believed that he employed himself to inflate Bargeny, who was but a youth, with ambitious designs, making him believe that he could easily put himself on a level with the Earl of Cassillis. The king made an effort to reconcile the parties, but it had no permanent effect. For some time these Carrick chieftains were chiefly busied in devising plots against each other’s lives. On one occasion, the earl, having been induced to accept the hospitality of the Laird of Blairwhan, was apprised that certain of his unfriends, along with Blairwhan, intended to murder him in his bed; he therefore left the house by a back-door, and made his way by night to Maybole. On another occasion, with the consent of Bargeny, the Laird of Benand, with some associates, lay in ambush in the kiln of Daljarrock, in which they had made holes for their hagbuts, designing to shoot Lord Cassillis as he passed that way. Receiving timely warning, he escaped the danger by going his journey by another road.

On the 6th of December 1601, the Laird of Bargeny had occasion to go to Ayr on business. Along with him rode his brother and the Laird of Benand—the two leaders in the affair of the kiln—and ten or twelve other horsemen. Passing within a quarter of a mile of Cassillis Castle, and not stopping to pay their respects to the earl, they violated one of the most sacred of the social laws then existing. Lord Cassillis could interpret it into nothing but the grossest insult. He was the more enraged, knowing that Bargeny’s two principal companions had lately lain in wait for his life. He immediately took measures for gathering his friends about him, and sent spies to Ayr to apprise him of all Bargeny’s movements.

After spending four or five days in Ayr, Bargeny proposed to return to his own house, much against the advice of his friends, who feared dangers by the way. Setting out with a company of about eighty on horseback, in the midst of a dense snow-storm, he made a halt at the Bridge of Doon—that place since made so famous from another cause—and there addressed his people, protesting that he sought no quarrel with Lord Cassillis, but expressing his hope that, if attacked, they would stand around him, and do their duty as became men of honour. They all assured him that they would die in his defence. He then divided his train into two parties, and riding on, at the Lady Cross met the earl, who came out of Maybole with fully two hundred men. ‘Being all ready to meet, the ane on the Teind knowe, and the other on the next, within the shot of ane musket, they began to flyte [use despiteful language towards each other]. Patrick Rippet [of the earl’s party], cryit: “Laird of Benand! Laird of Benand! Laird of Benand! This is I, Patrick Rippet, that took thy [hagbut]. Come down here in the holm, and break ane tree for thy love’s sake!” But the other gave nae answer, albeit he had given the laird stiff council to ride forward before.’

The Laird of Bargeny, anxious still to avoid fighting if possible, led off his men along the side of a bog; but the Cassillis party came by the other side, and met him at the bottom. He then made a dash forward across a ditch, with Mure of Auchindrain, his page, and three other gentlemen, but, not being supported by any others, found himself outnumbered by the enemy. A brief conflict took place, in which the laird and his friends did some damage to the opposite party; but it was all in vain. Auchindrain was wounded, the page was killed, one of his friends unhorsed, and another sore hurt. He himself, though but one of his friends remained, was not daunted, but rode rapidly into the ranks of the enemy, calling: ‘Where is my lord himself? Let him now keep promise and break ane tree!’ He was instantly set upon by a host of the earl’s friends, who strake at him with swords, and bore him back by sheer force. At that moment, one John Dick, who had formerly received benefits at his hands, thrust a lance through his throat and stopped his breath. The poor gentleman was then borne off by his horse towards such of his party as still stood their ground, and fell at their feet. The skirmish being now at an end, they were allowed to conduct him away from the field, taking him first to a barn at a place called Dingham, then to Maybole, and finally to Ayr, where he soon after died, being but twenty-five years of age, leaving a widow and two children to bewail his bloody end. ‘He was,’ says the contemporary historian of the Kennedies, ‘the brawest man that was to be gotten in ony land; of hich stature and weel made; his hair black, but of ane comely face; the brawest horseman, and the ae-best of mony at all pastimes ... gif he had [had] time to [have] had experience to his wit, he had been by his marrows [superior to all his mates].’

The procedure consequent on this sad tragedy is very notable. The Countess of Cassillis—a lady much the senior of her husband, the widow of the late Chancellor Maitland, and of course well acquainted with all the principal people around the king—rode immediately to court, to intercede for James’s favour towards her lord. With the help of the Laird of Colzean, she contrived to obtain an act of Council, making the earl’s part in the late conflict ‘good service to the king’—the pretext being that, in the opposite party, was Thomas Kennedy, Bargeny’s brother, a denounced rebel. ‘The ten thousand merks given to the treasurer was what did the turn.‘278 The earl was able afterwards to reimburse himself by causing all the gentlemen who had been with Bargeny to come to him and purchase remissions for their concern in the death of one of his followers, slain in the skirmish.

‘The Lady Bargeny rade to Edinburgh, and made her complent to the king and queen, but was little better, or least but heard; for she was compellit to buy the ward of her son, and to give thirteen thousand merks for the same.’ It is alleged that she afterwards used all the means she could to take the life of Lord Cassillis, in revenge for her husband’s death. An ambush was laid for him at Monkton, but getting timely warning, he waited for an increase to his retinue, by which he overawed the intending assassins. Lady Bargeny died in 1605, on her way home from London, whither she had gone to consult Dr Martin for ‘the eittik’ [that is, hectic, meaning a pulmonary consumption]. Her body was met at Sanquhar by ‘the haill friends of the house,’ and by them brought ceremonially to Ayr, and placed beside her deceased husband in the church. She had, however, erected a sumptuous tomb to her lord in the church of Ballantrae, and to this the two bodies were transferred with great state, ‘the honours and all the rest being preparit very honourably.’ By this is meant, a procession bearing the escutcheon, pencil of honour, sword, helmet, corslet, &c., of the deceased. ‘The day being come, there was of noblemen the Earls of Eglinton, Abercorn, and Winton, with the Lords Semple, Cathcart, Loudoun, and Ochiltree, the Lairds of Bombie, Blairwhan, and Gairland [Garthland], with ane great number whilk I will not mint [attempt] to express; his honours being borne by the Guidman of Ardmillan, the Guidman of Kirkhill, with sundry mae of the friends; his sister’s son, Young Auchindrain, bearing the Banner of Revenge, whereon was paintit his portraiture, with all his wounds, with his son sitting at his knees, and this ditty written betwixt his hands: “Judge and Revenge my Cause, O Lord!” And sae, conveyit to Ayr, bure all very honourably, to the number of ane thousand horse, of gentlemen, and laid in the foresaid tomb.’—Hist. Ken.

It is scarcely necessary to remark the amount of local means here indicated by a funeral train of a thousand mounted gentlemen. The Banner of Revenge seems to have been an imitation of that carried in the streets of Edinburgh in June 1567, to inflame the popular mind against Queen Mary.

The winter of 1601-2 is described by Birrel as of unheard-of severity and duration. It lasted from the 1st of November to the 1st of May. In February was a ten-days’ snow-fall.279 The Earl of Sutherland was at this time travelling with his ordinary train from Golspie through the glen of Loth, on his way to Killeirnan. The ground being already deeply covered with snow, the party found themselves in a hard plight, when a fresh storm burst upon them, driving thick snow full in their faces. The like was not seen for many years after. ‘Some of the company being thirsty, drank aquavitæ, which by chance happened to be there. This made them afterwards so feeble, that they were not able to endure against the storm.’ This is an observation in conformity with a statement of Sir John Franklin respecting his men when travelling in the frozen regions. Spirituous liquor, according to him, did no one any good. The earl, being strong, made his way through the snow, and such of his company as kept close together near him were safe. ‘Some were dispersed by the extremity of the tempest; some were carried home upon their fellows’ shoulders, and recovered afterwards.’ Several others, including the earl’s harper, were found dead in the snow next morning.—G. H. S.

James and George Vallam, sons of David Vallam of Woodwrae, were hanged in Edinburgh for stouthrief. The dittay reveals some of the practices of the age. These two men had, in June 1596, attacked two cadgers or carriers at the Cot-town of Melgum in Forfarshire, as they were ‘driving seven packs of merchant geir on seven horses towards Brechin, to the fair thereof,’ and did ‘thiftously and masterfully convey the same away with them, together with the said cadgers, to the mouth of Glenmoy, and disponed upon a grit part of the said merchant geir at their pleasure.’ The circumstances are precisely what might occur at the present day in Spain.—Pit.

After such a variety of examples of violence in the south and west provinces, where a comparative civilisation prevailed, it may be curious to see an example of the outrages occasionally committed in the north. On this day, if we are to believe the statement of the suffering party, the house of Moy, belonging to John Campbell, commissary of Inverness, was attacked, despoiled, and utterly destroyed by a party under command of Alexander M’Ranald of Glengarach. They came ‘to the number of three score persons,280 all thieves, broken men, and sorners of clans, bodin and furnist with bows, habershons, twa-handit swords, and other weapons invasive, and with hagbuts and pistolets.’ Reaching Moy ‘upon fair daylicht,’ they ‘divided their company in twa several companies, ane whereof remainit about the complenar’s house and biggings, where they treasonably and awfully raisit fire, burnt and destroyit his haill house, onsets, and biggings; consisting of ane hall, twa chalmers, ane kitchen, ane stable, and ane barn, and some other office-houses; together with his haill corns being in the barn and barn-yard, extending to twa grit stacks of aits, ane stack of wheat, and ane grit stack of beir, after they had spulyit, reft, and intromittit with his haill insicht plenishing’.

The other company ‘past to the house of umwhile James Buchan, the complenar’s tenant, where they first spulyit his house, guids, and geir, and then treasonably raisit fire therein.... They took James Buchan, Patrick Buchan his son, and Robert Anderson his servant, and having cuttit off their legs and arms, and otherwise dismemberit them at their pleasure, they cast them quick in the fire and burnt them.... In their departing, they reft and away-took with them twenty oxen and three score sheep pertening to the complenar, and wrackit and herryit his haill puir tenants. The like of whilk barbarous cruelty committit sae fer within the in-country has sendil been heard of.’

All that could be immediately done in this frightful case was to denounce the guilty parties as rebels for not appearing to answer Campbell’s complaint. Soon after, we find the Privy Council expressing its grief that the broken men of the Highlands, ‘not content with the robbery and reif whilk they were accustomed to commit upon the borders of the country, have tane the bauldness in troops to repair in fair daylicht within the heart of the in-country and to the ports of Elgin, whilk was the maist peaceable and obedient part of the haill land, and there to herry and sorn at their pleasure.’ The gentlemen of Morayshire were summoned to advise with his majesty, as to the best means of restraining this insolence.—P. C. R.

There is afterwards (June 28), a complaint by Campbell of Moy as to the favour and entertainment which Dunbar of Westfield, sheriff of Moray, had given to the men by whom his estate was despoiled. It was even alleged that the Dunbars had brought the broken men into the country. This group of men accordingly had some trouble about this business, but not any of serious consequence. We do not find that any of the actual perpetrators of the outrage at Moy ever suffered for it.