The city was at this time the scene of ‘a very great trouble and commotion,’ arising from a change which had been made in the system of municipal election. The change seems to have been effected in legal and proper manner by Sir George Elphinstone, the provost; but it was odious to a neighbouring knight, Sir Matthew Stewart of Minto, whose ancient local influence it threatened to subvert. He accordingly wrought upon the ‘crafts’ of the burgh, till he induced them to believe that the new system was a gross tyranny to their order. They consequently held a meeting in the house of a citizen—an act unlawful, without the sanction of the magistrates—ostensibly to get up a petition, but in reality armed for action with swords, targes, and other abulyiements. Climbing up to the platform of the Market Cross, they proclaimed their remonstrance against the new arrangements, in the sight of the magistrates, who sat in their council-house close by. It was believed that the object of the insurgents was to provoke the magistrates to come out and interfere with their proceedings; which might have been made a pretence for involving them in a murderous quarrel. But ‘God furnished the magistrates with patience to abide all their indignities.’ They even so far deferred to the popular party, as to appoint a day when they might meet and argue out their differences.
According to the provost and magistrates, in a complaint which they sent to the Privy Council, this peaceful measure did not suit the views of Sir Matthew Stewart and his friends. Accordingly, ‘knawing that, upon the twenty-three day of the month, whilk was the day preceding the appointit time of meeting, Sir George was to go to the archery, they made choice of that time and occasion, to work their turn.’ Sir Walter Stewart, son of Sir Matthew, with John and Alexander Stewarts, ‘lay in wait for him and his company, wha were but five in number, without ony kind of armour, saufing their bows; and perceiving them, about seven hours at even, come up the Dry-gate, of purpose to have passed to the Castle butts, and there to have endit their game, and James Forrat, ane of Sir George’s company, going to his awn house with his bow disbendit in his hand, to have fetchit some Bute arrows; Sir Walter thought meet to mak the first onset upon him, and thereby to draw Sir George back.’ The assault upon Forrat having caused a great cry to arise, Sir George returned through the Castle port to learn what was the matter, when, meeting young Minto in the act of pursuing the unarmed man, he remonstrated first in gentle words, and then in language more emphatic, finally commanding him in the king’s name to desist and go home. Hereupon a party of forty, all armed with steel bonnets, secrets, plait sleeves, ‘lang staffs,’ and other weapons, issued from the wynd-head, where they had been concealed, and, joining with young Minto, drove Sir George and his small party of friends back to the Castle port, where they were happily relieved from present danger. Being thus disappointed of their purpose, the rioters retired to the wynd-head, and presently sent off one of their number down the High Gait to rouse the other citizens. This man, James Braidwood, ran along crying, ‘Arm you! arm you! They are yokit!’ whereupon a great number of the seditious faction, including Sir Matthew Stewart of Minto himself, assembled in arms, and joining the other party at the wynd-head, came in full force, and in the most furious manner to the Castle, where, but for the interposition of the Earl of Wigton and two other privy-councillors, who were present, they would certainly have slain their provost. ‘Seeing they could not win towards Sir George with lang staffs and weapons, they despitefully cast stanes at him.’ Then, refusing to obey the commands of the privy-councillors to go peaceably home, ‘they past tumultuously down the gait to the Barras Yett, far beneath the Cross, and come up the gait again with three hundred persons, with drawn swords in their hands, some of the rascal multitude crying: “I sall have this buith, and thou sall have that buith!” and of new assailit the Castle port, with full purpose by force to have enterit within the same.’ It was alleged that, but for the courageous resistance of the three noble privy-councillors, they would have accomplished the destruction of Sir George Elphinstone on this occasion. As it was, they laid violent hands on three several magistrates who came to his help, altogether ‘committing manifest insolency and insurrection within the said city, to the great trouble and inquietation thereof, and ane evil example to others to do the like hereafter.’
Such was the Elphinstone story regarding this tumult. It was, however, met by a counter-complaint from young Minto, to the following effect. He was, he said, ‘coming down the Rotton Raw, in peaceable and quiet maner to his awn lodging, accompanit only with twa servants,’ when ‘he perceivit Sir George Elphinstone with nine or ten persons in his company, coming up the Dry Gait.’ Although he was in the straight way for his lodging, ‘yet in respect of some dryness between Sir George and him, he left that gait, and past ane other way, of purpose to have eschewit all occasion of trouble and unquietness betwixt them.’ Here, however, ‘James Forrat, ane of Sir George’s company, cast him directly in the complainer’s way, and pressit to have stayit his passage.’ When young Minto ‘soberly found fault with him,’ Forrat ‘immediately bendit his bow, and had not failed to have shot and slain him, were not ane in company with the complainer cuttit the bow-string.’ Whereupon, according to the recital, Sir George Elphinstone and his servants fell upon young Minto and his servants in the most violent manner with their swords, and would certainly have slain them, if they had not by God’s providence escaped.—P. C. R.
We learn from another source, that, after all, ‘the skaith was not great; only ane man callit Thomas Cloggy died, without ony wound, and sundry hurt with staves.’317
The government authorities must have felt puzzled by this local squabble, and hardly known how to apportion punishment amongst the parties. The Minto knights were ordered into ward in Dumbarton Castle, and Sir George Elphinstone in the castle of Glasgow, till his majesty’s pleasure should be known. The Privy Council afterwards absolved young Minto from the charge of being the aggressor in the conflict of the 23d July; but the two knights and their principal supporters were confined for some time in Linlithgow, on account of the general ‘insolency’ of which they had been guilty.
There is something affecting in the history of the families concerned in this tumult. A mural tablet in Glasgow cathedral commemorated the names of six or eight Stewarts of Minto in succession, ‘knights created under the banner,’ and men of great sway in the district. But when M‘Ure wrote his History of Glasgow in 1736, the family was ‘mouldered so quite away, that the heir in our time was reduced to a state of penury little short of beggary.’ A memorandum of Paton, the antiquary, queried, ‘If true that the last of the family was a poor boy sent into Edinburgh barefooted with a letter to Stewart of Coltness, who [being] promising, was recommended to the Duke of Hamilton, got some education, and afterwards went abroad to Darien, where he died.’ Sir George Elphinstone, who had been the familiar servant and friend of King James, acquired a great estate at Glasgow, and after this time rose to be Lord Justice-clerk, nevertheless ‘died so poor, that his corpse was arrested by his creditors, and his friends buried him privately in his own chapel adjoining his house.’ His family went out in the second generation.
While the attention of the people was absorbed by the matter of the bishops and their robes and renewed dignity, the consequences of the continual neglect of those natural conditions on which their physical health depended were about to be once more and most severely felt. The pest broke out and spread over the more populous districts with frightful rapidity. ‘It raged so extremely in all the corners of the kingdom, that neither burgh nor land in any part was free. The burghs of Ayr and Stirling were almost desolate; and all the judicatories of the land were deserted.’—Bal. It was not till the middle of winter that it sensibly declined.
The chancellor wrote to the king in October, that scarcely any part of the country was free of the scourge. ‘This calamity,’ he says, ‘hinders all meetings of Council, and all public functions for ministration of justice and maintenance of good rule and government, except sic as we tak at starts, with some few, at Edinburgh, or in sic other place for a day, to keep some countenance of order.’
The unconforming clergy now imprisoned at Blackness wrote a petition for mercy to the king (August 23), in which they describe the state of the country under its present affliction. They speak of ‘the destroying angel hewing down day and night continually, in sic a number in some of our congregations, that the like thereof has not been heard many years before.’ They add: ‘What is most lamentable, they live and die comfortless under the fearful judgment, filling the heaven and the earth with their sighs, sobs, and cries of their distressed souls, for being deprived not only of all outward comforts (whilk were great also), but also of all inward consolation, through the want of the ordinary means of their peace and life, to wit, the preaching of the word of our ministry.’318
We have a remarkable trait of the treatment of the pest in outlying districts, in a bond granted on this occasion by some Aberdeenshire gentlemen to the burgh of Dundee for five hundred merks, as requital for their sending two professional clengers from their town to the valley of the Dee, that they might deal with an infection which had fallen forth in the house of Mr Thomas Burnet, minister of Strathauchan, and in the house of John Burnet of Slowy—two places divided by the river, but both on the line of the great road leading from the south to the north of Scotland. The country gentlemen, on hearing of the infection in their district, had been obliged to convene and devise measures for meeting the calamity.
Their first step was to send for two clengers a hundred miles off to come with all speed, although at a high cost, which the gentlemen, as we see, were obliged to pay in behalf of themselves and neighbours.319
Another trait of the public economy regarding this pestilence occurs in the record of the Privy Council. It was represented to that august body on the 2d of September, that ‘certain lodges’ had been ‘biggit by James Lawrieston and David and George Hamiltons, upon the common muir of Gogar, for the ease and relief of certain their tenants, infectit with the pest;’ but Thomas Majoribanks, portioner of Ratho, and other persons had cast down these lodges, apparently on the plea that the erecting of them was an intrusion on their property. The Council found that the muir was common property, and ordered the lodges to be rebuilt by those who had originally set them up, on the part of the muir nearest to their own grounds, ‘where they may have the best commodity of water,’ the other party being at the same time forbidden to interfere under heavy penalties.—P. C. R.
The Chancellor Dunfermline intimated to the king the pitiful case of the inhabitants of Dumbarton, their town being unable to defend themselves against ‘the surges and inundations of the sea, which is likely to destroy and tak away their haill town, and cannot be repulsit by nae moyen their poor ability and fortunes are able to furnish.’ Those who were appointed to inquire into the matter now reported that it would require at least thirty thousand pounds Scots to make a proper bulwark. It was proposed to defray this charge by a tax on the country.320
‘George, Earl of Dunbar, his majesty’s commissioner for ordering the Borders, took such a course with the broken men and sorners [there], that, in two justiciary-courts halden by him, he condemned and caused hang above a hundred and forty of the nimblest and most powerful thieves in all the Borders ... and fully reduced the other inhabitants there to the obedience of his majesty’s laws.’—Bal. The chancellor told the king next month that the Borders were now ‘satled, far by onything that ever has been done there before.’321
It was declared a few months later (November 20), that one of the principal difficulties experienced by the emissaries of government in executing justice on the Borders lay in the strength of the houses in which the ‘thieves and limmers’ dwelt or took refuge, and particularly the ‘iron yetts’ with which these houses were furnished. The Privy Council therefore ordained that all iron yetts in houses belonging to persons below the rank of barons, should be ‘removit and turnit in plew irons or sic other necessar wark as to the awners sall seem expedient.’—P. C. R.
These iron gates, of which many specimens still survive in ancient country-houses in Scotland, are composed grill-wise, the bars curiously interlacing with each other, and generally with huge staples and padlocks. Such a gate, made in 1568 for Kilravock Castle, Nairnshire, by George Robertson, smith in Elgin, weighed thirty-four stone three pounds, and cost ‘£34, 3s. 9d. usual money, together with three bolls meal, ane stane butter, and ane stane cheese.’322
The six clergymen who had been tried for treason, on account of their refusal to break up the General Assembly at Aberdeen, and who had been condemned to banishment, were sent forth of the kingdom at Leith, after a long confinement in Blackness Castle. The punishment, it may be remarked, would have been remitted if they would have acknowledged their alleged offence and come in the king’s will.
‘The 6 of November, about four afternoon, they were desired to come to the boat whilk was prepared for them by the water-bailie of Leith and Edinburgh; who, obeying, came, accompanied with some of their dearest friends and wives, to the pier, where there was a good number of people waiting on, to tak the guid-night at them, and to see them; but after their coming thither, Mr John Welch conceived a prayer, whilk bred great motion in the hearts of all the hearers. Prayers ended, they took guid-night of their friends, wives, and many other weel-wishers who were present, [and] entered into the boat, where they remained a guid space waiting on the skipper.’ The skipper not being ready to weigh that night, ‘they were desired by the water-bailie either to go aboard and lie in the ship that night, or else to go to their lodging, and be ready at the next call.
‘They, by God’s special providence, chused to go to their lodging; for that night came on a great storm, [so] that the ship was forced to save herself in Kinghorn road all that night. They were called again by two hours in the morning, who, obeying, came to the shore and pier, accompanied as the night before, no small concourse of people being with them, beyond expectation, so early to see them boat. Prayer conceived as before by Mr John Welch, they embarked, giving many exhortations to all to hold fast the truth of the doctrine whilk they had delivered; for the whilk they doubted nothing to lay down their lives, let be to suffer banishment; adding thereto, that whilk they suffered was the great joy of their conscience. In the meantime, the mariners hasted them away ... they departed out of our sight, making us hear the comfortable joy whilk they had in God, in singing a psalm.’323
While Protestant clergymen of the puritan type were thus suffering, and evoking by their fortitude the deserved sympathy and admiration of large masses of their countrymen, they were so far from being alone in martyrdom, that suffering was inflicted upon another class of religionists, if not at their dictation, at least with their full approval. The Earl of Angus, one of the three Catholic lords whose correspondence with Spain caused so much trouble sixteen years before, had since lived at home in quietness and obedience. It was not many months after the embarkation of the six Presbyterian ministers at Leith, that we find his lordship pleading that, to avoid imprisonment for his religion, he might be allowed to go into exile—thus calling for the punishment inflicted upon the six clergymen, as a kind of relief from the more severe penalties demanded against him by the party to which these clergymen belonged. In a letter to the king, August 10, 1608, adverting to the fact of the General Assembly having given forth an act for his immediate excommunication, he says: ‘What grief and sorrow this brings to my heart, God knows; because my greatest care has ever been, and sall be, that I might end my days (whilk, I am persuaded, will not be many) at peace with God, and in your majesty’s obedience.... The permission whilk of grace only I crave (gif it please not your hieness to ease me with a better) is either to depart this country ... with surety not to return, or else that it wald please your majesty to confine me in ane of mine awn houses, and so mony miles about the same, where I am glad to live as ane private subject, and never to meddle me with public affairs, but by your majesty’s direction.’
The earl was compelled to leave his country, and he died at Paris three years after, aged fifty-seven. In his epitaph, he is made to say—‘jussus, religionis causâ, patriâ excedere aut in custodiam pergere, vitæ quietiori turbinibus averruncandis delegeram Galliam, caram alteram Scotis patriam.’
The utter unconsciousness of the persecuted Presbyterians of there being any harm in visiting the papists with the like severities might almost provoke a smile. While the six ministers lay in expectation of banishment, their brethren detained in England received a visit from Law, Bishop of Orkney. The conversation turned on the present state of the church in Scotland, and the bishop endeavoured to convince them that the royal policy was right, as the same Linlithgow convention which had condemned the six recusant ministers had ‘taken strait order with the papists.’ Seeing they appeared to have no great faith in that demonstration, the bishop endeavoured to reassure them. ‘They shall call me a false knave,’ said he, ‘and never to be believed again, if the papists be not sae handled as they never were in Scotland.‘324
The Privy Council had some time ago issued a proclamation, forbidding what was called the backing of pairties to the bar—that is, each party in a lawsuit coming into court with a number of friends and favourers behind him, with a view to exercising some influence over the course of justice. Finding that the former denouncement of ‘this indecent and unseemly custom’ had not been attended with any effect, partly through the public being unacquainted with it, and partly through the negligence of the officers of the law, the Council now renewed their proclamation, with assurance that their orders would in future be strictly acted upon. The reader will find that the practice continued in force some years later.—P. C. R.
At this time, Gordon of Gight, Forbes of Corsindae, and some others, formed themselves into what they called the Society of the Boys—much after the manner perhaps of the White Boys of Ireland, in more recent times. They bound themselves by oath to consider all quarrels as common amongst them, and are accused of having committed ‘open and avowed reifs, herships, and other enormities, in all parts where they be maisters and commanders.’ All this appears from a letter of the Privy Council, of date January 20, 1607, to the Marquis of Huntly, commanding him to take order for their suppression, ‘as your lordship wald eschew that hard censure and construction which his majesty maun mak of your behaviour in this point.’
It will be remembered that Gight was a Catholic, and the probability is that this fraternity of the Boys was simply a desperate effort on his part and that of his co-religionists to repel, as far as they could, the persecutions to which they were subjected.
However this might be, we soon after (April 2) find the Council engaged in trying to bring George Gordon of Gight to justice for sundry popish practices of which he was alleged to have been guilty. It was charged against him that, at the burial of his mother, Isobel Ochterlony, on a particular day in the year 1604, he had caused his tenant, David Wilson, to ‘carry ane crucifix upon ane speir immediately before the corpse;’ in like manner, at the burial of the late William Gordon of Gight in 1605, he had caused George Crawford, his servant, to ‘bear ane crucifix upon ane speir the haill way before the body;’ he being personally present on both occasions: ‘whereby, as he has offendit God, slanderit his kirk and haly ministry, sae he has committit a very great contempt against his majesty, and has violate his hieness’ laws and acts of parliament.’ The laird and his two dependents having failed to appear on several former occasions, the officers of justice were now directed to go to them, and command them to enter as prisoners in Edinburgh Castle within fifteen days, on pain of rebellion.—P. C. R.
The immediate results of these measures do not appear. Seven years after (February 1614), we learn that the Lairds of Gight and Newton, both Gordons, and both Catholics, were sentenced by the Privy Council to perpetual banishment, and ‘never to set foot in Scotland under pain of death, unless they submit themselves to the orders of the church;’ that is, embrace the Protestant faith as professed in Scotland.
However it was as to their faith, the Gight Gordons are found in their usual place in Aberdeenshire only two years after this time. See under December 1615.
The pest broke out again in Dundee, Perth, and other parts of the country.—Ab. C. R.
The Privy Council refer to ‘a very ancient and lovable custom,’ of giving a blue gown, purse, and as many Scotch shillings as agreed with the years of the king’s age, to as many ‘auld puir men’ as likewise agreed with the king’s years; and seeing it to be ‘very necessary and expedient that the said custom should be continuit,’ they give orders accordingly.—P. C. R.
The ‘auld puir men’ so favoured were called the King’s Bedesmen, and were privileged to go about the country as beggars, notwithstanding any general enactments that might exist against mendicancy. Their blue cloak bore a pewter badge which assured them of this right. They were expected to requite the king’s bounty by their prayers; and, doubtless, as they had such an interest in the increase of his years, their intercessions for his prolonged life must have been sincere. The distribution of their cloaks and purses used to take place on the king’s birthday, at the end of the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, till a time not long gone by.
A sad account is given of the country of Athole. This province, ‘whilk of auld was maist quiet and peaceable, and inhabit be a number of civil and answerable gentlemen, professed and avowed enemies to thieves, robbers, and oppressors,’ is described as having ‘now become very louss and broken,’ ‘ane ordinary resett for the thieves and broken men of the north and south Hielands;’ moreover, a great number of the native people, ‘sic as John Dow M’Gillicallum and his complices,’ shaking off all fear of God and reverence for his majesty and the laws, ‘are become maist insolent, committing wild and detestable murders, open reifs, privy stouthrie, barbarous houghing and goring of oxen, and other enormities,’ without hinderance or challenge.
The Privy Council ordered the immediate reappointment of a guard or watch for the country, such as was customary. James Gordon of Lesmoir undertook to apprehend John Dow and his brother Allaster; and when many attempts had failed, ‘in end lichtit upon the limmers.’ ‘After a lang and het combat, and the slauchter of four or five of the principals of them, the said Allaster was apprehendit, and John, being very evil hurt, by the darkness of the night escaped.’ Allaster, who had many murders on his head, was brought to Edinburgh, and laid in irons in the Tolbooth, notwithstanding many offers from his friends for his liberation. He was in due time tried and executed.—P. C. R.
David, Master of Crawford, was noted as a wicked and lawless man. In the course of his violent proceedings in the district where he possessed influence—Forfarshire—he had slaughtered (October 25, 1605) Sir Walter Lyndsay of Balgavies. This brought out the violent feelings of the young Laird of Edzell, whom we have already seen engaged in matters of blood. Young Edzell and his brother determined to avenge the slaughter of their uncle, Sir Walter, upon the Master of Crawford, who was also their near relation.
One summer evening, between nine and ten o’clock, the Master of Crawford was walking up the High Street of Edinburgh, accompanied by his uncle, Alexander, Lord Spynie, and Sir James Douglas of Drumlanrig. Lord Spynie was a popular character, a favourite courtier of King James, and uncle to both the Master of Crawford and young Edzell. Knowing the revengeful design of the latter person, he had been endeavouring to bring about a peace between him and the Master; but his well-meant efforts were destined only to result in his own death. At this very time young Edzell was lying in wait with eight armed men to attack the Master. The three gentlemen approach, and are in a moment beset by the ambushed party; sword-strokes and pistol-shots are exchanged; the Master and Drumlanrig are severely wounded, and Lord Spynie receives mortal hurt. Young Edzell then withdrew his party.
Drumlanrig recovered from his wounds with difficulty; Lord Spynie died of his in eleven days. Thus the innocent alone suffered from this attempt at ‘wild justice;’ the very kind of event which wild justice is most apt to bring about, and for which it is chiefly to be condemned.
Young Edzell fled, with the dismal pain upon his conscience of having caused the violent death of his own uncle, whom he had ever regarded with affection. To escape justice, he was compelled to retire to the remotest parts of his paternal property in the Braes of Angus. Meanwhile, his father suffered great harassment from the law on his account, and was soon brought down in sorrow to the grave. It cost the son a good estate and ten thousand merks to settle matters ultimately with the heirs of Lord Spynie.325
A tragical event, which now occurred at Dornoch in Sutherland, is related in a characteristic manner by Sir Robert Gordon.
‘About the year 1585, there came into Sutherland one called Mr William Pape, a reasonable good scholar, and of a quick and ready wit. This man was first admitted to be schoolmaster in the town of Dornoch; then he was appointed to be resident minister in that same place; and withal he came to be chanter of Caithness. In progress of time, by his virtue and diligence, he became wealthy, and of good account in the county of Sutherland. His two brethren, Charles and Thomas, perceiving his good success, came also thither out of Ross, where they were born, thinking to settle their fortunes with their elder brother. Thomas Pape was made chancellor of Caithness, and minister at Rogart. Charles Pape was a public notary, and a messenger-at-arms; who, being of an affable and merry conversation, did so behave himself that he procured the love of his master, the Earl of Sutherland, and the good liking of all his countrymen, so that in the end he was made sheriff-clerk of Sutherland. These three brethren married in Sutherland, and anchored their fortunes in that country; but as wealth and prosperity often beget pride, so doth pride bring with it a certain contempt of others. These brethren, dwelling for the most part in Dornoch, being both provident and wealthy, thought by progress of time to purchase and buy the most part of the tenements of that town, and drive the ancient and natural inhabitants from their possessions; which the townsmen in end perceiving, they grudged in their hearts, though they could take no just exceptions thereat, seeing that these brethren did purchase the same with their money; yet they concluded with themselves to utter their hatred and revenge when occasion should serve. So at last, upon a particular quarrel which began between one of these brethren, and one of the inhabitants of the town, their ruin thus followed:
‘Every man being departed from the town of Dornoch unto this convention at Strathullie [to resist an invasion of the Earl of Caithness], except William Moray, a bowyer, and some few others, who were also ready to go away the next morning. Mr William and Mr Thomas Pape, with some others of the ministry, had a meeting at Dornoch concerning some of the church affairs. After they had dissolved their meeting, they went to breakfast to an inn or victualling-house of the town. As they were at breakfast, one John Macphail entered the house and asked some drink for his money, which the mistress of the house refused to give him, thereby to be rid of his company, because she knew him to be a brawling fellow. John Macphail, taking this refusal in evil part, reproved the woman, and spoke somewhat stubbornly to the ministers, who began to excuse her; whereupon Thomas Pape did threaten him, and he again did thrust into Thomas’s arm an arrow with a broad-forked head, which then he held in his hand. So being parted and set asunder at that time, Mr William and his brother Thomas came the same evening into the churchyard, with their swords about them; which John Macphail perceiving, and taking it as a provocation, he went with all diligence and acquainted his nephew, Hutcheon Macphail, and his brother-in-law, William Moray the bowyer, therewith; who being glad to find this occasion whereby to revenge their old grudge against these brethren, they hastened forth, and meeting with them in the churchyard, they fell a quarrelling, and from quarrelling to fighting. Charles Pape had been all that day abroad; and at his return, understanding in what case his brethren were, he came in a preposterous haste to the fatal place of his end and ruin. They fought a little while; in the end, Charles hurt William Moray in the face, and thereupon William Moray killed him. Mr William and Thomas were both extremely wounded by John Macphail and his nephew Hutcheon, and were lying in that place for dead persons, without hope of recovery; but they recovered afterwards beyond expectation. The offenders escaped, because there was none in the town to apprehend them (except such as favoured them), the inhabitants being all gone to the assembly at Strathullie. John Macphail and his nephew Hutcheon have both since ended their days in Holland. William Moray yet lives (reserved, as I should suppose, to a greater judgment). Mr William Pape and his brother Thomas thereupon left the county of Sutherland, and settled themselves in Ross, where Thomas now dwelleth. Mr William died in the town of Nigg, where he was planted minister. Thus did these brethren begin and end in this country; which I have declared at length to shew us thereby that man in full prosperity should never think too much of himself, nor contemn others, upon whom it hath not pleased God to bestow such measure of gifts and benefits.’—G. H. S.
A parliamentary enactment had appointed the 5th of August to be kept as a holiday, on account of the king’s escape from the Gowrie treason. On this occasion, the day ‘was solemnly kept in Edinburgh. The king’s scoll [health] was drunk by the duke his commissioner, and some other noblemen, at the Cross of Edinburgh, which was covered for the greater solemnity. Bacchus was set up, and much wine drunk, and sweetmeats cast about; much vanity and pastime, beside ringing of bells, and setting on of balefires. The pest brake up soon after.‘—Cal.
The death of the late Lord Maxwell in the battle of Dryfe’s Sands left a feeling of deadly bitterness in his son’s mind against the name of Johnston. A series of turbulent proceedings, marking the untamable spirit of the young lord, ended in his being warded in the Castle of Edinburgh, where he had for a fellow-prisoner a Hebridean magnate of similar character and history—Sir James M‘Connel or Macdonald.
‘Seeing not how he was to be relieved, he devises with Sir James M’Connel and Robert Maxwell of Dinwoodie, what way he and they might escape. So, he calls ane great number of the keepers of the Castle into his chalmer, where he drinks them all fou.’ Pretending to act a sort of play, he asked them for their swords as part of the performance; and having thus armed himself and his two companions, he passed out with them, locking the door behind him. The three passed to the inner gate, where a servant stood in the way, holding the porter in parley. The latter, an old man, tried to make resistance. ‘False knave,’ cried Maxwell, ‘open the yett, or I shall hew thee in blads’ [pieces]. He did strike the man in the arm, and likewise wounded another keeper in the hand. Then he and Sir James ‘passed to the west castle-wall that goes to the West Port of Edinburgh,’ and climbing over it, leaped down, and disappeared amongst the suburbs. Robert Maxwell, however, was locked in and detained. The insular chieftain, who had irons upon him, was seized in an attempt to conceal himself in a dunghill, while Lord Maxwell escaped on a horse which had been kept in readiness for him. ‘The king was very far offended, and made proclamation that nane should reset him under the pain of death.’326
‘A vehement frost continued from Martinmas till the 20th of February. The sea froze so far as it ebbed, and sundry went into ships upon ice and played at the chamiare a mile within the sea-mark. Sundry passed over the Forth a mile above Alloa and Airth, to the great admiration of aged men, who had never seen the like in their days.’—Cal.
The keenness and duration of this frost was marked by the rare occurrence of a complete freezing of the Thames at London, where accordingly a fair was held upon the ice. In Scotland, rivers and springs were stopped; the young trees were killed, and birds and beasts perished in great numbers. Men, travelling on their affairs, suffered numbness and lassitude to a desperate degree. Their very joints were frozen; and unless they could readily reach a shelter, their danger was very great. In the following spring, the fruit-trees shewed less growth than usual; and in many places the want of singing-birds was remarked.—Jo. Hist.
‘The Lord Maxwell, being proclaimed traitor after the breaking out of ward in the Castle of Edinburgh, and thereupon driven to great straits, sent to the Laird of Johnston, craved a meeting, pretending he would now be heartily reconciled with him, and not for the fashion, as he was before at the king’s pleasure, because he perceived he did not trouble him now, being an outlaw, as he looked for. They meet at the place appointed, Maxwell and one with him, Johnston and another with him; and Sir Robert Maxwell of Spotts (near cousin to the Lord Maxwell, and brother-in-law to the Laird of Johnston), who was employed by Maxwell to draw on the tryst. They meet on horseback, and salute each other heartily in outward show, and went apart to confer together. While Johnston and Maxwell are conferring apart, Maxwell’s second began to quarrel Johnston’s second, [and] shot a pistolet at him, whereupon he fell. Johnston, hearing the shot, cried “Treason!” and, riding from Maxwell to the two gentlemen, to understand what the matter meant, Maxwell shooteth him behind the back. So Johnston fell, and died of the shot. Soon after, proclamation was made at the Cross of Edinburgh, that none, under pain of death, transport or carry away the Lord Maxwell out of the country, in ship or craer, seeing the king and Council was to take order with him, for the traitorous murdering of the Laird of Johnston and his other offences.’—Cal.
‘The fact was detested by all honest men, and the gentleman’s misfortune sore lamented; for he was a man full of wisdom and courage, and every way well inclined, and to have been by his too much confidence in this sort treacherously cut off, was a thing most pitiful. Maxwell, ashamed of that he had done, forsook the country, and had his estate forfeited.’—Spot.
Horse-racing was early practised as a popular amusement in Scotland. In 1552, there was an arrangement for an annual horse-race at Haddington, the prize being, as usual, a silver bell. Early in the reign of James VI., there were races at both Peebles and Dumfries. The Peebles race was accustomed to take place on Beltane-day, the 1st of May; it was the chief surviving part of the festivities which had from an early period distinguished the day and place, and which were celebrated in the old poem of Peebles to the Play.
The great difficulty attending such popular festivals arose from the tendency of the people to mark them with bloodshed. Men assembled there from different parts of the country, each having of course his peculiar enmities, and the object of similar enmities in his turn; and when they met and had somewhat inflamed themselves with liquor, it was scarcely avoidable that mutual provocations should be given, leading to conflicts with deadly weapons. So great reason was there now for fearing a sanguinary scene at Peebles, that the Lords of Council thought proper to issue a proclamation forbidding the race to take place.327—P. C. R.
This day commenced an unfortunate adventure of the king for obtaining silver in certain mines at Hilderstone in the county of Linlithgow. Some years before, a collier, named Sandy Maund, wandering about the burn-sides in that district, chanced to pick up a stone containing veins of a clear metal, which proved to be silver. A gentleman of Linlithgow, to whom he shewed it, recommended him to go to Leadhills, and submit it to Sir Bevis Bulmer, who was engaged in gold-seeking there. The consequence was, that a search was made at Hilderstone for silver, and, some very hopeful masses of ore being found, a commission was appointed by the king, with the consent of Sir Thomas Hamilton, his majesty’s advocate, the proprietor of the ground, for making a search for silver ore, with a view to trying it at the mint. In January 1608, thirty-eight barrels of ore, weighing in all 20,224 pounds, were won, packed, and sent to the Tower of London. It is said that this ore gave about twenty-four ounces of silver to every hundredweight, while some gave double this quantity. Samuel Atkinson, who was engaged in working the mine, tells that on some days he won as much silver as was worth £100. The shaft, indeed, received the name of God’s Blessing, as expressive of its fertile character. The whole results appearing favourable, the king’s cupidity was excited, and he easily fell into the proposal of his astute councillor, Hamilton, to become the purchaser of God’s Blessing for the sum of £5000, and work it at the public expense. Bulmer, created a knight, was its governor. There were ‘drawers up of metal, drawers up of water, and lavers up of water to the pumps under the ground, shedders and washers, washers with the sieve, dressers and washers with the buddle, and washers with the canvas, quarriers, shoolmen,’ and many other workers of different kinds. A mill for melting and fining the metal was established at Leith.328 Another fining-mill and a stamp-mill, with warehouses, were built on the water running out of Linlithgow loch. Some Brunswick miners were brought to give the benefit of their skill. All, however, was of no avail. From the time of the transference of the mine into royal hands, it did no more good. After a persevering effort of two years and a half, the king gave up the adventure, with a loss of a considerable sum of money.
The same mine was granted, in 1613, to Sir William Alexander, Thomas Foulis, and Paulo Pinto, a Portuguese, to be wrought by them on the condition of their paying a tenth of the refined ore to the crown. What success attended this adventure is not known.
The scene of the mining operations is still traceable in a hollow place to the east of Cairn-apple Hill, four miles south of Linlithgow. A neighbouring excavation for limestone is named from it the Silver-mine Quarry: such is the only local memorial of the affair now existing.329
Margaret Hertsyde had entered the service of the queen in a humble capacity in Scotland, and accompanying her majesty to England, was there considerably advanced, and received from the queen many marks of favour. Enriched with the royal liberality, she returned to her native country as a great lady, attended by her husband, John Buchanan, who had been a servant of the king. The pair attracted an invidious attention by the high airs they gave themselves, affecting by the purchase of land to become persons of quality, appearing in a carriage drawn by white horses, and apparently wholly forgetful of their humble origin. It was therefore with no great regret that the public learned that Margaret was apprehended, on suspicion of having taken jewellery from her royal mistress, to the value of upwards of £400 sterling. The unfortunate woman confessed her guilt to the queen; but on her being brought to trial at Linlithgow, some technical difficulties arose as to how far a person could be considered guilty of theft who had only withheld unaccounted for certain articles of which she had been in trust. A direct conviction could not therefore be recorded. In these circumstances, by an irregularity which marks the character of the age, the king interfered with an order that Margaret Hertsyde be declared infamous and banished to Orkney. She was also adjudged to pay £400 sterling to the commissioner upon her majesty’s dotarial estate of Dunfermline. A grave historian of that day moralises upon the case as a sad example of the mutability of fortune.
In 1619, ‘her doom having been humbly and with great patience embraced and underlain by her, and her behaviour continually sin syne having been very dutiful,’ Margaret so far succeeded in obtaining the king’s grace as to have the reproach of infamy removed.—Pit. Jo. Hist.