DOMESTIC
ANNALS OF SCOTLAND.

DOMESTIC
ANNALS OF SCOTLAND

From the Reformation to the Revolution.

BY ROBERT CHAMBERS,
F.R.S.E., F.S.A.Sc., &c.

SECOND EDITION.

VOLUME II.

Dunnottar Castle.

W. & R. CHAMBERS, EDINBURGH AND LONDON.

MDCCCLIX.

Edinburgh:
Printed by W. and R. Chambers.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

Illustrations.

VOL. II.

DOMESTIC ANNALS OF SCOTLAND.

REIGN OF CHARLES I.: 1625-1637.

James I. was peaceably succeeded on the throne by his son Charles I., then in the twenty-fifth year of his age. The administration of Scottish affairs continued to be conducted by the Privy Council in Edinburgh. For the endowment of the Episcopal Church now established, the king (1625) attempted a revocation of the church-lands from the lay nobles and others into whose hands they had fallen; but this excited so strong a spirit of resistance, that he was obliged to give it up. He ended by issuing (1627) a commission to receive the surrender of impropriated tithes and benefices, and out of these, and the superiorities of the church-lands, to increase the provisions of the clergy. These proceedings, though legal, were unpopular. The nobles, alarmed for their property, began to lean towards the middle and humbler classes, who objected to a hierarchy on religious grounds solely. While all was smooth on the surface, while the lords of the Privy Council were full of expressions of servile obedience, while they, as well as all judges and magistrates, gave most loyal and regular attendance at church, and duly knelt at the communion—a strong spirit of discontent ran through society. The more zealous Presbyterians formed the habit of meeting in private houses for prayer and worship. They beheld with apprehension the tendency to medieval ceremonies which Charles, and his favourite councillor, Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, were manifesting in England. That leaning to Arminianism which the English Church was also accused of—modifying Calvinism so far as to say that the perdition of sinners had been only foreseen, not decreed, and that God’s wrath against them was not to last for ever—was viewed with the utmost alarm in Scotland. The only means the king had of giving reassurance was to make a loud profession of horror for popery, and to practise all possible severities upon its adherents. That the king and his Council availed themselves of this chance, will be found abundantly evidenced in our chronicle.

It is rather remarkable, that the adjustment of the tithes by King Charles in 1627 has proved a most useful practical measure, in annulling a certain class of disputes between the clergy and their flocks; anticipating, in short, the valuable commutation acts of England and Ireland by upwards of two centuries.

During the first few years of the reign, large bodies of troops were raised in Scotland, and conducted by native officers to serve the Protestant powers of the continent, engaged in the great thirty years’ struggle with Catholic Germany.

The king paid a visit to Scotland in 1633, in order to be crowned as its sovereign, and to see what further could be done for perfecting the Episcopal system. His reception was respectful, but not so affectionate as that experienced by his father. He wanted the good-humour of James; he treated all difficulties in a stern and imperious manner. The people were overborne by his power and his obduracy, but left unconvinced, unreconciled. In the subsequent year, he lost additional ground by a tyrannical and unjust trial of the Lord Balmerino on a charge of treason, for merely having in his possession the scroll of a petition against the royal measures. At the same time, the Scotch people knew of the king’s quarrels with the English patriots Elliot, Pym, and others; they knew that he had resolved on calling no more parliaments; they heard of Strafford’s despotic government in Ireland; they sympathised with the Puritans who were now and then pilloried and cropped of their ears, or driven in multitudes to Holland and America. Although, then, there was a strong prepossession for the institution of monarchy, there was also a steady muster of irritation and fear against the government of this particular monarch. It might have been evident to any dispassionate observer, that, if the present system were persevered in, an explosion would sooner or later take place.

There was this further difference between the late and present king, that while James was only anxious for a church polity which would work harmoniously with his doctrines of state, Charles—who, unlike his father, was an earnestly religious man—deemed Episcopacy a necessary part of faith. The struggle was now, therefore, between a people fanatic for one system, and a king fanatic for another. One thing Charles had long considered as necessary to complete his favourite project in Scotland—the introduction of a liturgy into the ordinary worship. He thought the proper time was now come, because he everywhere saw external obedience. A service-book being accordingly prepared by Laud, on the basis of that commonly used in England, but with a few innovations relishing of popery and Arminianism, an order of Privy Council was given for its being read in the churches. This was precisely what was necessary to exhaust the popular powers of endurance. It seemed to the multitude as if popery, almost undisguised, were once more about to be introduced. When the dreaded book was opened in St Giles’s Church (July 1637), the congregation rose in violent agitation to protest against it. It was hooted as a mass in disguise, and a stool was thrown at the head of the reader. Similar scenes occurred elsewhere; but the clergy in general had declined to bring the book forward. The state-officers and bishops now found themselves objects of popular hate to such an extent that they could not present themselves in public. The service-book was not merely a failure in itself, but it had produced a kind of rebellion. Charles discovered, when too late, that, as usually happens with men of headstrong temper, the truth had been concealed from him. The general obedience had been a hypocrisy. Nineteen-twentieths of the people were in their hearts opposed to his measures, and now he had given them occasion to declare themselves and enter at all hazards upon a course of resistance.

1625. May 28.

This is the date of the patent of Charles I., conferring on Sir Robert Gordon of Gordonstown the dignity of a baronet of Nova Scotia, being the first patent of the kind granted. Gordon of Cluny and Gordon of Lesmoir also got similar patents during the same year, and Lesmoir’s eldest son, being of full age, was at the same time made a knight; such being the original design regarding this honour. The order of baronets of Nova Scotia, which still holds an honourable place in Scottish society, was projected by King James, as an encouragement to gentlemen of property in his native kingdom to enter into the scheme of Sir William Alexander (subsequently Earl of Stirling) to plant Nova Scotia. In the patent of each, a certain portion of land in that country is assigned along with the honour, the infeoffment being executed on the Castle Hill of Edinburgh; but this, as is well known, has never been otherwise than an ideal advantage. ‘His majesty, the more to encourage the baronets in that heroic enterprise [of planting Nova Scotia], besides other privileges, did augment every one of their coats of arms by joining thereto a saltire azure, or a blue St Andrew’s cross, set in a white field, with another scutcheon in the middle of the blue cross, comprehending a red rampant lion in a yellow field, with a red tressure of fleur-de-luces about the lion, with an imperial crown above the scutcheon, being the arms of New Scotland. The crest of the arms of New Scotland is two hands joined together, the one armed, the other unarmed, holding a laurel and a thistle twisted, issuing out of them, with this motto, “Munit hæc, et altera vincit.” The supporters are a unicorn upon the right side, and a savage man upon the left.’—G. H. S.

The town-council of Aberdeen at this time anticipated the wisdom and good manners of a later age, by ordaining that ‘no person should, at any public or private meeting, presume to compel his neighbour, at table with him, to drink more wine or beer than what he pleased, under the penalty of forty pounds.’[1]

June 12.

Thomas Crombie, burgess of Perth, was ‘summoned to underlie the law, for the alleged slaughter of ane William Blair, a westland gentleman, wha notwithstanding had done the same negligently to himself. Being of intention to have struck the said Thomas with ane whinger, he hurt himself in the arm, whereof he died twenty days after. The said Thomas compeared with eighty burgesses of Perth, besides five earls, six lords, and twenty-six barons, upon the burgh of Perth’s desire to back him, [and] was clengit and freed therefrae.’—Chron. Perth.

July 20.

By the royal command, a fast was held throughout Scotland, in consequence of the heavy rains which had prevailed since the middle of May, threatening the destruction of the fruits of the earth. It was a time of calamity. The marriage of the king to the Princess Henrietta Maria of France (June 16th), had of course brought the mass into London, and ‘no sooner was the queen’s mass, the plague of the soul, received, than a raging pestilence broke out in the city of London and parts adjoining, which in a short time cut off above 40,000 persons.’—Stevenson’s Hist. C. Scot.

July 26.

1625.

The government was incensed by bruits set in circulation by a set of ‘restless and unquiet spirits,’ to the effect that the king designed some change in the kirk and its canons. The king issued a proclamation denouncing these injurious rumours as troublesome to the commonwealth, and protesting that so well was he pleased with the existing arrangements, that, if he had not found them established by his late dear father, he would himself have never rested till they were perfected as they now stood. It may be suspected that this proclamation did not put an end to the bruits, for in October the king discovered that a number of Catholic noblemen and gentlemen were bringing up their children in popish seminaries abroad, and at the same time entertaining popish priests at home; wherefore it had become necessary that some suitable anti-papist edicts should be published. The parents of children educated abroad were ordered to have them brought home before a certain day, under severe penalties. Great pains were threatened against those who should give entertainment or shelter to popish priests after a certain day. Finally, the proclamation charged ‘all our subjects, of whatsoever rank or degree, to conform themselves to the publict profession of the true religion, prohibiting the exercise of ony contrary profession, under the pains conteinit in the laws made thereanent.’—P. C. R.

Aug. 30.

A proclamation was resolved on for a strict execution of the laws against the selling of tallow out of the country. Contrary to the views of modern mercantile men, there was a general fear and dislike in those days regarding export trade. It was always thought to have a bad effect in making things scarce and dear at home. No one seems ever to have dreamed of the profitable quid pro quo without which the trade could not have been carried on. We require to have a full conception of this universal delusion, before we can understand the frame of mind under which the Privy Council of the day could speak of the transport of tallow as ‘a crime most pernicious and wicked,’ perpetrated by a set of ‘godless and avaritious persons,’ acting ‘without regard of honesty or of those common duties of civil conversation whilk in a good conscience they ought to carry in the estate.’

It was, to all appearance, under a sincere horror for ‘this mischeant and wicked trade,’ which threatened to leave not enough of tallow to supply the needs of the population, that the lords announced their resolution to punish it with confiscation of all the remaining movable goods of the guilty parties.—P. C. R.

John Gordon of Enbo, having suffered some injury at the hands of Sutherland of Duffus, longed for revenge, but for some time in vain. At length, riding with a single friend between Sideray and Skibo, he encountered Duffus’s brother, the Laird of Clyne, also attended by a single friend on horseback. Gordon, with a cudgel in his hand, assaulted Clyne, and gave him many blows. ‘Then they drew their swords, and, with their seconds, fell to it eagerly.’

1625.

Clyne, after being sorely wounded in the head and hand, was suffered by Eubo to escape with his life.

The curious part of the affair is to come. Enbo was prosecuted by Duffus before the Privy Council, and committed to the Castle of Edinburgh. The Duffus party were full of triumph, making sure of ample retribution. At that crisis arrives the sage and courteous Sir Robert Gordon of Gordonstown, who had heretofore made so many rough matters smooth in the north. He first dealt with Duffus, to induce him to withdraw the prosecution, which he apparently looked on in no other light than as a species of unrighteous revenge. Duffus proved obdurate, ‘thinking to get great sums of money decerned to him by the lords from John Gordon, for satisfaction of the wrong done to his brother, whereby he might undo John Gordon’s estate.’ Feeling now relieved from all ties towards Duffus, Sir Robert ‘dealt by all means for John Gordon’s relief and mitigation of his fine.’ Very much by the interest of the Lord Gordon, then in Edinburgh with the French commissioners, he succeeded in inducing the Privy Council to let John Gordon off with a fine of a hundred pounds Scots, equal to £8, 6s. 8d. sterling!—‘and nothing to the party.’ Duffus left Edinburgh in sad discomfiture, to meet the blame of his friends for not having accepted the better conditions offered at first by Sir Robert Gordon. The proto-baronet at the same time returned to the north, bringing John Gordon of Enbo along with him, ‘beyond the expectation of all his friends and foes in those parts, who thought that he should not have been released so soon, nor fined at so small a rate, wherein Sir Robert purchased himself great credit and commendation.’ So Sir Robert calmly assures us in his own narrative of the transaction.—G. H. S.

Oct. 27.

1625.

A convention of Estates was held, under the Earl of Nithsdale as commissioner, to treat regarding the revocation of the church-lands. Those whose fortunes were thus threatened were greatly alarmed and incensed by the urgency of the king. The suspicion of the Earl of Nithsdale being a papist must have added to the unpopularity of the affair. If we are to believe a story which Burnet reports from Sir Archibald Primrose, they held a private meeting to consult how they might best protect their own interests, and it was agreed by them that, when assembled, ‘if no other argument did prevail to make the Earl of Nithsdale desist, they would fall upon him and all his party in the old Scots manner, and knock them on the head.... One of these lords, Belhaven, of the name of Douglas, who was blind, bid them set him by one of the party, and he would make sure of one. So he was set next the Earl of Dumfries. He was all the while holding him fast. And when the other asked him what he meant by that, he said, ever since the blindness was come on him, he was in such fear of falling, that he could not help the holding fast to those who were next to him. He had all the while a poniard in his other hand, with which he had certainly stabbed Dumfries, if any disorder had happened. The appearance at that time was so great, and so much heat was raised upon it, that the Earl of Nithsdale would not open all his instructions, but came back to court, looking on the service as desperate.’

It is much to be desired for this anecdote that it had some support in other authority. The Lord Belhaven pointed to was then a man little over fifty, and his epitaph in Holyrood Abbey describes him as kind to his relations, charitable to the poor, moderate in prosperity, and constant under adversity—though, to be sure, posthumous certificates of that kind do not generally rank as evidence of the first class.[2]

Oct.

A taxation was granted to the king by the Scottish parliament, amounting to £40,000 Scots. Some of the burghs came to an agreement with the lords of the Privy Council for certain proportions of this taxation, to be paid annually while it continued; and we are thus supplied with a means of estimating the comparative importance and wealth of some of the principal towns in the kingdom. We find the following towns set down, with the annexed sums at their names: Glasgow, £815, 12s. 6d.; Linlithgow, £163, 2s. 6d.; Stirling, £422, 17s. 9d.; St Andrews, £490; Dunbar, £90, 15s.; Culross, £84, 10s.; Canongate, £100; Hamilton, 100 merks.

1626. Apr.

Paisley, now a huge city of the industrious, was, in the reign of Charles I., only a village surrounding the ruins of an ancient abbey. The dominant personage of the place was the Earl of Abercorn, a cadet of the Hamilton family, enriched by the possession of the abbey-lands. Through the influence of the earl’s mother, who had become a Catholic, the town was described as ‘a nest of papists.’ Nevertheless, the interest of Lady Abercorn’s relative, Lord Boyd, had procured a presentation to the parish church in favour of Mr Robert Boyd of Trochrig, recently principal of the Edinburgh University—one of a group of men deep in theological learning, adepts in Latin versifying, who then threw a lustre upon Scotland—but at the same time a zealous protester against the late Episcopalian innovations in the church. Being thus obnoxious to Lady Abercorn, albeit her ladyship’s relation, his settling in Paisley was viewed by her, her sons, and her friends, with great disrelish, and the consequence was a material resistance to the presentee, being perhaps the first occurrence of the kind in our country, the precursor of many.

‘He was ordained to have his manse in the fore-house of the abbey, as the most convenient place for that use. And having put his books and a bed thereintill; one Sunday, he being preaching, in the afternoon, the Master of Paisley,[3] being the Earl of Abercorn’s brother, with some others, came to the minister’s house, none being thereintill, and cast all his books on the ground, and thereafter locked the door.’ On a complaint from Boyd to the Privy Council, the Master was brought to penitence for this outrage, and it was then hoped that matters would go on smoothly. On his returning, however, to his manse, he found the locks of the doors stopped up with stones, so that he could not get in without force, which he was not permitted to use. As he was going away, ‘the rascally women of the town, coming to see the matter—for the men purposely absented themselves—not only upbraided Mr Robert with opprobrious speeches, and shouted and hoyed him, but likewise cast dirt and stones at him; so that he was forced to leave the town and go to Glasgow.’

Being a man of a gentle nature, Boyd withdrew to his house of Trochrig in Ayrshire, without making any complaint as to his late ill-usage. The case, however, being taken up by the Archbishop of Glasgow, and brought before the Privy Council, Lady Abercorn, the earl her son, and the Master her second son, all came to Edinburgh in the earl’s ‘gilded carroch,’ accompanied in the usual manner with their friends, to answer for the outrages which had been committed. An order was given for the replacement of Boyd in his parish; but, meanwhile, he sunk under a weakly and reduced constitution, and died, January 5, 1627, at the age of forty-nine.[4]

1626. June 15.

‘Betwixt the hours of eight and nine in the morning, there appeared a phenomenon in the open firmament, which was looked on by many as a presage of some future calamity. The sun shining bright, there appeared, to the view of all people, as it were three suns; one be-east, and the other south-be-west the true sun, and in appearance not far from it. From that which lay south-west, there proceeded a luminary in the form of a horn, that pointed north-west, and carried as it were a rainbow, in colour gray, but clearer than the rest of the sky. Whether these signs were ominous or not, manifold were the calamities which then prevailed.[5]

June.

Oct. 10.

Just before this time, a large body of men, variously stated at 3000 and 4400, was raised in Scotland by Sir Donald M‘Kay of Strathnaver, ‘a gentleman of a stirring spirit,’ and Sir James Leslie—supposed to have been of the Lindores family—to assist Ernest Count Mansfeldt in the Bohemian army against the Emperor of Germany. This being the Protestant cause, and likewise the cause of the king’s brother-in-law, the Elector Palatine, who had accepted the crown of Bohemia, the enlistment received the royal sanction and patronage, £2000 being disbursed to Sir Donald, and £600 to Sir James, while a further sum of £400 was promised to be at the service of the troops on their landing in Hamburg.[6] The movement harmonised with the feelings of the people of Scotland, to many of whom an honourable military service with pay was convenient and agreeable on less exalted considerations than that of religious sympathy, as the industry of the country was then too little advanced to hold out a gainful occupation to all who were anxious for it. The estates and influence of Sir Donald being in Sutherlandshire, it naturally fell out that a large portion of the officers of the corps were from that county and the adjacent districts of Ross and Caithness—Monroes, Mackenzies, Rosses, Gordons, Sinclairs, and Gunns. The greater number of the recruits embarked at Cromarty in October, and had a prosperous voyage to the Elbe; but their commander, Sir Donald, was detained by sickness till the spring of the ensuing year. Owing to the death of Count Mansfeldt, the corps took a new destination, though adhering to the same cause, for they entered the service of the King of Denmark, their own king’s uncle, who had engaged in the war against the emperor.

1626.

The exploits of these Scottish levies have been recorded in a curious but confused narrative, the production of one of the officers, and now a great rarity, entitled Monro his Expedition, with the worthy Scots Regiment called M‘Kay’s Regiment, &c.[7] The author, Colonel Robert Monro, states that he composed it at his spare hours, ‘for the use of all worthy cavaliers favouring the laudable profession of arms.’ He gives a long list of officers, all bearing familiar Scottish names—as Forbes, Monro, M‘Kay, Sinclair, Ross, Gordon, Stewart, Innes, Seton, Dunbar, Hay, and Gunn. In the ranks were included a small band of Macgregors, who had been lying for some time in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, on account of their irregularities, and who are said to have proved good soldiers under regular discipline and with a legitimate outlet for their inherent turbulence and courage.

One portion of the Scots Regiment was sent to join the English auxiliaries under General Morgan. Another was put to a severe duty in defending the Pass of Oldenburg against Tilly’s army. The latter are described as shewing a remarkable degree of firmness and gallantry in that trying situation, from which they had to retire, after a loss of four hundred men. Another party, of four companies, under Major Dunbar, defended the Castle of Brandenburg in Holstein against 10,000 men under Tilly, with such desperate and sanguinary pertinacity, that, on the place being ultimately taken, they were all put to the sword. On many other occasions, these valiant Scotsmen distinguished themselves greatly, insomuch that they came to be called the Invincible Regiment. It was greatly owing to them that Stralsund made such an obstinate defence against Wallenstein. Here they lost 500 men in seven weeks, only about 400 being now left. When the Danish king was forced to evacuate Pomerania, the Scots defended the bridge at Wolgast, till he was safe. So early as January 1628, Sir Donald M‘Kay had to go home for fresh levies. He returned in July with as many as raised the corps to 1400 effective men. But before any further remarkable service had been performed by the regiment, the King of Denmark was glad to make peace.

1626.

The regiment then transferred itself to the service of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, who had now put himself at the head of the Protestant interest against Catholic Germany. Throughout his remarkable campaign in Pomerania and Mecklenburg, our brave Scots were on incessant service, and were usually employed on posts of peculiar difficulty or danger. The waste of men was enormous; and in February 1631, Lord Reay—for so Sir Donald M‘Kay was now styled—returned home once more for fresh levies. He was detained in England by some circumstances of an unpleasant nature, which enter into our national history; but the levies were sent out notwithstanding, and the efficiency of the Scots Regiment, or rather regiments, never for a moment flagged. At the brilliant capture of Frankfort-on-the-Oder, when so many of the imperialists perished, and so much of their wealth fell into the hands of the Swedish king, our countrymen had a distinguished part. In the subsequent transactions ending with the splendid victory of Leipsic, by which the Protestant world was for the time liberated, they were ever in the front, doing and suffering much. And so it went on, even after the death of the king at Lutzen in 1633, their great losses being continually made up again by the arrival of fresh levies from Scotland. Amongst many gallant officers who received their training in these wars, were two men destined to take prominent parts in the history of their country—namely, Colonels Alexander and David Leslie.[8]

July 19.

Amongst the preparations for war at this time, the Privy Council, reflecting on the inconveniences of being wholly dependent on foreign countries for gunpowder, empowered Sir James Baillie of Lochend, knight, to see if he could induce some Englishmen to come and settle in Scotland for the manufacture of that article.—P. C. R.

Sep.

1626.

Mr Thomas Ramsay, minister of Dumfries, was unusually zealous against popery, probably by reason of its peculiar abundance within the bounds of his cure. One day, as he and some co-presbyters were passing along the bridge over the Nith, they encountered a person on horseback whom they recognised to be ‘ane mess priest by whom numbers of the country people are pervertit not only in their religion, but in their allegiance to the king’s majesty.’ ‘Having used their best endeavours to have apprehendit the priest, it fell out that, by the help of some excommunicat papists, who was in company with him, he escaped.’ They, however, secured ‘his horse and cloak-bag, wherein there was a number of oisties, superstitious pictures, priests’ vestments, altar, chalice, plate-boxes with oils and ointments, with such other trash as priests carry about with them for popish uses.’

Mr Thomas Ramsay and his friends immediately came to Edinburgh, and presented themselves before the Privy Council, who, according to their wishes, passed an act of approbation in their favour, and ordered them to make a bonfire at the market-cross of Dumfries, and there burn all the popish ‘trash’ excepting the silver articles, which were to be melted down for the benefit of the poor.—P. C. R.

1627. July 17.

Four of the bishops, and a number of commissioners from presbyteries, met in Edinburgh to deliberate on church matters, being the nearest approach to a General Assembly which could now be permitted. Amongst the matters discussed were the increase of papistry and sin, the persecutions of the Protestants in Germany, and the war against France. Anxiety was also expressed regarding the prospects of the harvest. ‘Because of the extraordinar rains, which now threaten rotting of the fruits of the ground before they be ripe, and so a fearful famine upon this land in so dangerous a time, when the seas are closed by the enemies, and no hope of help from other countries if God shall send a famine, [it was resolved] to entreat the Lord that he wold cause the heaven answer the earth, and the earth answer the corn, and the corns to answer our necessity, and us to answer His will, in faith, repentance, and obedience.’[9]

1627.

At this time, Great Britain might be said to be drifting towards a war with France. The king having offended Louis XIII. by turning off all the Catholic priests who had come over in attendance upon his queen, the French monarch retaliated by ordering the seizure of British vessels within his ports. There were a hundred and twenty English and Scottish ships in those ports, chiefly loading with wine, and the whole were seized. The Scotch, however, contrived to make themselves appear as still connected with France by an ancient league—a league which, it is to be feared, only existed as a friendly illusion common to the two nations. Out of deference to this notion, the Scotch vessels were all dismissed, while the English were retained.—Bal.

‘There was a warrant from the king’s majesty and his Council, for listing in Scotland 9000 men, to go to serve under the king of Denmark, in the German wars for renewing the palatinate and Bohemia.... There was many forcit, as beggars, idle men, and [those wanting] competent means to live upon, under the conduct of the Earl of Nithsdale, my Lord Spynie, and the Laird of Murkle (Sinclair), as colonels.

‘There was the same year 2000 gentlemen, landed men, barons, lords, and others of guid sort, levanted from Scotland under the Earl of Morton, for helping to take the Isle of [Ré] in France. But the isle was recovered by the French frae the English.’—Chron. Perth.

The recruiting of these German legions does not appear to have been conducted in a very scrupulous manner. Some of the circumstances afford a rich illustration of the social condition of Scotland at that time. On the 1st of November 1627, Robert Scott, bailie of Hawick, reported to the Privy Council a number of ‘idle and masterless men, fit to be employed in the wars’—namely, ‘Allan Deans, miller; Allan Wilson; George Dickson, callit the Wran; John Rowcastle; Walter Scott, maltman; John Tait, piper; William Beatison; Robert Lidderdale, callit the Corbie; Robert Langlands; James Waugh, officiar; James Towdop; William Scott, callit Young Gillie; John Laing, piper; William M‘Vitie; Walter Fowler; and Andrew Deans.’ This proceeding of Bailie Scott was in obedience to an act of Estates. The lords, having narrowly examined these men, liberated seven as ‘not fit persons to be employed in the wars.’ Two were set free, under surety to appear again when called upon. The remaining persons they ordained to be delivered to the Earl of Nithsdale, ‘to be sent by him with the rest of his company to the wars in Germany.’ Seeing, however, that ‘the said persons are men and servants to William Douglas of Drumlanrig, and that reason and equity craves that they sould be rather delivered to Sir James Douglas of Mowsill, brother to the said Laird, nor to any other colonel or captain whatsoever,’ they ordained accordingly, provided that Sir James should satisfy the Earl for his expenses. The men thus dealt with were to be lodged in the Tolbooth, until the ship should be ready to carry them abroad, the Earl undertaking to satisfy Andrew White the jailer, ‘for their expenses during the time of their remaining in ward.’—P. C. R.

1627. Aug. 12.

In the exigencies of the unfortunate wars in which the king became involved with Spain and France, he was led to the strange idea of raising a small troop of Highland bowmen. This weapon, which had long since declined in most European countries before the advance of firearms, was still in use in the north of Scotland—indeed, continued partially so for sixty years yet to come. Most probably it was the chief of the MacNaughtans, now a gentleman of the Privy Chamber, who had suggested such a levy to the king, for he it was who undertook to raise and command the corps. At the date noted, Charles wrote to the Privy Council of Scotland, to the Earl of Morton, and the Laird of Glenurchy, asking assistance and co-operation for MacNaughtan in his endeavours to raise the men, it being declared that they should have ‘as large privileges as any has had heretofore in the like kind.’

It appears that MacNaughtan came to the Highlands in the course of the autumn, and engaged upwards of one hundred men for this extraordinary service. ‘George Mason’s ship’ was placed at Lochkilcheran, to receive the men as they were engaged, and carry them to their field of action. It seems to have been designed that they should join a regiment commanded by the Earl of Morton, which was now lying at the Isle of Wight, designed to support the Duke of Buckingham in the dismally unfortunate expedition he had made for the relief of Rochelle. It was not till some weeks after that affair was concluded by his Grace’s evacuation of the Isle of Ré, that the bowmen, to the stinted number of one hundred, left their native shores. Departing in the very middle of winter, the ship encountered weather unusually tempestuous, was chased by the enemy, and obliged to put into Falmouth. There MacNaughtan wrote to the Earl of Morton—‘Our bagpipers and marlit plaids served us to guid wise in the pursuit of ane man-of-war that hetly followit us.’ He told his lordship he would come on with his men to the Isle of Wight as soon as possible, being afraid of a lack of victuals where he was; and meanwhile he entreated that his lordship would prepare clothes for the corps, ‘for your lordship knows, although they be men of personages, they cannot muster before your lordship in their plaids and blue caps.’

What came of these ‘poor sojours, quho ar far from thair owin countrie,’ we nowhere learn.[10]

1627. Aug.

‘... there being upon the coast of Zetland about the number of 250 Fleming busses at the herring-fishing, attended with nine waughters ... there cam upon them fourteen great Biscayen Spanish ships, in whilk there were 4000 soldiers, with ane great sum of money for the payment of the Spanish army in Germany; whilk ships, being bound for Dunkirk, cam that north way for their safest passage, till keep themselves free from the harm of Flemish or English ships. But, approaching to the said coast, they set upon the Hollanders, and, sinking three of the waughters, the haill busses took the flight, some till little creeks in Zetland, where the Spaniard did sink a number of their busses, and taking their master, did put the rest of their company to the edge of the sword, with some also of the country people, inhabitants thereof, resisting their tyranny.’

The Privy Council, duly apprised of these outrages on the 13th of the month, were taking measures for their correction, when, on the 16th, ‘there arase a great fray in the town of Edinburgh, for, the busses having left the waughters combating with the Dunkirkers, and having fled away therefrae, there cam of them the number of threescore all together in form of ane half-moon, up the Firth of Forth; where, at the first perceiving afar off of such a number of ships in the form foresaid, as if they had been in battle or onset thereof, the haill people thought they had been ane army of Spaniards and Dunkirkers assuredly. Whereupon the Privy Council caused mak a proclamation, that all manner of men, offensive and defensive, under the pain of death, should all in arms to the sea-shore, upon the first touk of the drum. All this day, the Lords of Council held their council at Leith, where also David Aikenhead, provost of Edinburgh, with some of the bailies and council thereof, attended the event of the said ships, till advertise the people of the town what they sould do thereanent. About eight hours at night, by command of the Privy Council, the cannons were trailed down with furnishing thereto from the Castle of Edinburgh till Leith, and the town of Edinburgh were put in arms under ten handseignies, every man better resolved than another to abide the worst till death, or they to put the enemies to destruction.... About ten hours at night certain word cam, by two boats that was sent from Leith, to the effect that they were our friends and only a number of busses fled from the tyranny of the Dunkirkers ... and then the cannons were trailed back again to the Castle, and the people were commanded to their rest.’—Jo. H.

1627. Oct. 10.

As the Privy Council was sitting in its chamber in Holyrood Palace, an outrage took place, recalling the wild acts of thirty years since. One John Young, poultry-man, attacked Mr Richard Bannatyne, bailie-depute of the regality of Broughton, at the council-room door, and struck him in the back with a whinger, to the peril of his life. The Council, in great indignation, immediately sent off Young to be tried on the morrow at the Tolbooth, with orders, ‘if he be convict, that his majesty’s justice and his depute cause doom to be pronounced against him, ordaining him to be drawn upon ane cart backward frae the Tolbooth to the place of execution at the Mercat Cross of Edinburgh, and there hangit to the deid and quartered, and his head to be set upon the Nether Bow, and his hand to be set upon the Water Yett.’—P. C. R.

Nov. 27.

A warrant was granted by the Privy Council regarding Alexander Robison, a Jesuit lately taken and put into the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, ‘where he has remained divers months bygane’ [since the 20th September of preceding year]. As his staying in the country could not but lead to the corruption of the people in their religious opinions and their allegiance to the king, the Council deemed it expedient that Robison be ‘sent away out of the country nor unnecessarily halden within the same.’ He was therefore to be called before a justice court in the Tolbooth, where, ‘after acknowledging of his offence in transgressing of his majesty’s laws made against the resorting and remaining of Jesuits within this kingdom,’ they were to ‘take him solemnly sworn and judicially acted, that he sall depairt and pass furth of this kingdom with the first commodity of a ship going toward the Low Countries, and that he sall not return again within the same without his majesty’s licence ... under pain of deid.’—P. C. R.

Two days after, the Council took into consideration certain petitions of Alexander Robison, ‘heavily regretting the want of means to entertein him in ward and satisfy his bypast charges therein.’ ‘Seeing it accords not with Christian charity to suffer him to starve for hunger, he being his majesty’s prisoner,’ the lords agreed that he should have 13s. 4d. [that is, 1s. 1-1/3d. sterling] per day, counting from the 20th of September last.

1627.

The latter part of this year, marked by a military disaster and disgrace nearly unexampled in British annals[11], was made further memorable by a tempest of extraordinary violence, which destroyed a vast quantity of mercantile shipping, including many collier vessels carrying their commodity to the Thames. At one part of the coast of Scotland, a high tide, assisted by the storm, produced an inundation over a large tract of low land. It came upon the Blackshaw in Carlaverock parish, and upon certain parts of the parish of Ruthwell ‘in such a fearful manner as none then living had ever seen the like. It went at least half a mile beyond the ordinary course, and threw down a number of houses and bulwarks in its way, and many cattle and other bestial were swept away with its rapidity; and, what was still more melancholy, of the poor people who lived by making salt on Ruthwell sands seventeen perished; thirteen of these were found next day, and were all buried together in the churchyard of Ruthwell, which no doubt was an affecting sight to their relations, widows, and children, &c., and even to all that beheld it. One circumstance more ought not to be omitted. The house of Old Cockpool being environed on all hands, the people fled to the top of it for safety; and so sudden was the inundation upon them, that, in their confusion, they left a young child in a cradle exposed to the flood, which very speedily carried away the cradle; nor could the tender-hearted beholders save the child’s life without the manifest danger of their own. But, by the good providence of God, as the cradle, now afloat, was going forth of the outer door, a corner of it struck against the door-post, by which the other end was turned about; and, going across the door, it stuck there till the waters were assuaged.

‘Upon the whole, that inundation made a most surprising devastation in those parts; and the ruin occasioned by it had an agreeable influence on the surviving inhabitants, convincing them, more than ever, of what they owed to divine Providence; and for ten years thereafter, they had the holy communion about that time, and thereby called to mind even that bodily deliverance.’[12]

Dec. 25.

1627.

There now being much anxiety about foreign invasion, some care was taken to ascertain the state of the national defences, and there was also a proposal to fortify various places, of which, it may be remarked, Leith was one. Sir John Stewart of Traquair had been sent to inquire into the condition of Dumbarton Castle, and now reported as follows: ‘At his entry within the castle, he found only three men and a boy in ordinar guarding the same. The walls in the chief and most important parts were ruinous and decayed; the house wanting doors, locks, or bolts, and nather wind nor water tight; the ordnance unmounted, and little or no provision of victuals and munition (except some few rusty muskets) within the same.’

The description, it is to be feared, was generally characteristic. In those days, which we look back upon as so romantic, there was one thing wanting—revenue. In Scotland, owing to the poverty of the government, national buildings alternated between long periods of neglect and decay, and abrupt attempts at repair when there was a pressing need. As to the case of Dumbarton, Sir John Stewart was empowered to get it put into proper order, with a promise of reimbursement.—P. C. R.

1629. Mar. 11.

The Privy Council took energetic measures against certain persons of the south-western province, including Herbert Maxwell of Kirkconnel, Charles Brown in New Abbey, Barbara Maxwell Lady Mabie, John Little, master of household to the Earl of Nithsdale, John Allan in Kirkgunzeon, John Williamson in Lochrutton, and many others, all apparently people in respectable circumstances. It was found that these individuals proudly and contemptuously disregarded both the excommunication and the horning which they had brought upon themselves by persisting in their ‘obdured and popish opinions and errors,’ haunted and frequented all public parts of the country, ‘as if they were free and lawful subjects,’ and were ‘reset, supplied, and furnished with all things necessar and comfortable unto them,’ a great encouragement to them to continue in their erroneous opinions, ‘whereas if this reset, supply, and comfort were refused unto them, they might be reclaimed from their opinions, to the acknowledgment of their bypast misdemeanours.’ As if to mark more effectually the infamy of these recusants, a pair who had been excommunicated for adultery were classed with them. A commission was issued for the apprehension and trial of all persons ‘who are suspect guilty of the reset and supply of the said excommunicat rebels.’

1628.

Two of the commissioners—Sir William Grier of Lag and Sir John Charteris of Amisfield—went very promptly to that peculiar nest of papists, New Abbey, and there apprehended Charles and Gilbert Brown, two of the ‘excommunicat rebels.’ Enraged by this act, the wife of Charles Brown, and a number of other women, raised a mob against the minister and schoolmaster of the parish, ‘whose wives and servants they shamefully and mischantly abused, and pursued with rungs [sticks] and casting of stones.’ This being held as a great insolency, and likely to prove an evil example if unpunished, the Council ordered the commissioners to hold a court at Dumfries for the trial and punishment of the offenders.—P. C. R.

A few weeks afterwards, one of the excommunicated ladies, Janet Johnston, spouse of Brown of Lochhill, was taken into custody; but being in a delicate state, she was allowed (June 26) to go home till the time of her accouchement, on condition that she gave caution for her living during the interval ‘without offence and scandal to the kirk,’ and ‘conform with the ministry for giving unto them satisfaction regarding her religion;’ failing which, immediately after her recovery, ‘she sall depairt furth of the kingdom, and not return again within the same without his majesty’s licence, under pain of ane thousand merks.’—P. C. R.

These proceedings were followed up by some sharp handling of the papists of Aberdeenshire and the priests trafficking there.

Apr. 2.

1628.

The clergy of the city of Edinburgh, eight in number, were now disposed to sympathise in and support their flocks in the general repugnance to the new arrangements at the celebration of the communion. They had become sensible of the great inconvenience of dissent, and wished to bring the people back to the churches. There was, however, but a faint hope of prevailing with the king to sanction a return to the old simple forms. At the approach of the Easter celebration of the communion, ‘there was in the Little East Kirk a private meeting of the ministers of Edinburgh, and a certain number of the citizens of the said town, to the end they might reconceil the hearts of the people to their pastors, to the end, if it might be possible, they might have acquired ane dispensation from the king to celebrate the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper without kneeling, after the ancient form of the discipline of the Kirk of Scotland.... The conveners, having met three or four times thereupon, thought best to send Mr William Livingstone to the king’s majesty to deal for obteining the said dispensation; but before he cam to court, his majesty was informed of his message, and absolutely refused the same until he were further advised.’—Jo. H. The king afterwards sent an imperious order to the Archbishop of St Andrews, desiring him to see to the condign punishment of the authors of this movement. The people were silenced, but soured; and the course of things that led to the Civil War went on.

Dec. 2.

George Lauder of the Bass, and his mother, ‘Dame Isobel Hepburn Lady Bass,’ were at this time in embarrassed circumstances, ‘standing at the horn at the instance of divers of their creditors.’ Nevertheless, as was complained of them, ‘they peaceably bruik and enjoy some of their rents, and remain within the craig of the Bass, presuming to keep and maintein themselves, so to elude justice and execution of the law.’ A Scotch laird and his mother holding out against creditors in a tower on that inaccessible sea-rock, form rather a striking picture to the imagination. But debt even then had its power of exorcising romance. The Lords of Council issued a proclamation, threatening George Lauder and his mother with the highest pains if they did not submit to the laws. A friend then came forward and represented to the lords ‘the hard and desolate estate’ of the two rebels, and obtained a protection for them, enabling them to come to Edinburgh to make arrangements for the settlement of their affairs.—P. C. R.

1628.

Under encouragement, as was supposed, from the Duke of Buckingham, the Scottish Catholics had for some time been raising their heads in a manner not known for many years before. They began to indulge a hope that possibly a certain degree of toleration might be extended to them. Some impetuous spirits amongst them went so far in ‘insolency’ as to write pasquinades upon the Bishop of Aberdeen, and post them upon his own church doors. The Privy Council were too well aware of the unpopularity of the king on account of the episcopal innovations which he loved, to allow him to remain under any additional odium on account of a faith about which he was, at the best, indifferent. Besides, ‘taking order’ with popery was always a cheap and ready means of making political capital against Presbyterian opponents. We accordingly find the Council at this date issuing orders regarding a number of persons of consideration in the north, as well as the priests whom they entertained, but particularly against the Marquis of Huntly, whose protection they deemed to be the chief cause why popery was not better repressed in that quarter.

There was first a recital regarding a host of men who acted as officers, or lived as tenants, upon the extensive estates of the marquis—‘Mr Robert Bisset of Lessendrum, bailie of Strabogie; Alexander Gordon of Drumquhaill, chamberlain of Strabogie; Patrick Gordon of Tilliesoul; John Gordon, in Little-mill; Adam Smith, chamberlain of the Enzie; Robert Gordon, in Haddo; Barbara Law, spouse to the said Adam Smith; Margaret Gordon, good wife of Cornmellat; Malcolm Laing, in Gulburn; and Mr Adam Strachan, chamberlain to the Earl of Aboyne.’ It was stated of them, that they had remained indifferent under the ‘fearful sentence of excommunication,’ and the consequent process of horning—that is, rebellion—frequenting all parts of the country ‘as if they had been true and faithful subjects.’ They were alleged to be encouraged in their rebellious life by the marquis, who was properly answerable for them; so he was charged to present them on a certain day of February next, under pain of horning.

1628.

There was next a recital regarding a number of persons, including, besides several of the above, ‘Mr Alexander Irving, burgess of Aberdeen; Thomas Menzies of Balgownie; Walter Leslie, in Aberdeen; Robert Irwing, burgess there; John Gordon, appearand of Craig; James Forbes of Blackton; Robert Gordon, in Cushnie; James Philip, in Easton; James Con, in Knockie; John Gordon, in Bountie; Alexander Harvie, in Inverury; John Gordon, in Troups-mill; John Spence, notar in Pewsmill; Francis Leslie, brother to Capuchin Leslie; Alexander Leslie, brother to the Laird of Pitcaple; Thomas Cheyne, in Ranniston; William Seton of Blair; Thomas Laing, goldsmith, burgess of Aberdeen; Alexander Gordon, in Tilliegreg; Alexander Gordon, in Convach; Agnes Gordon his spouse; Margaret Gordon, spouse to Robert Innes, in Elgin;’ who had all been excommunicated and denounced rebels for the same reason: also seven men and two women, including, besides several of those formerly cited, Alexander Gordon, in Badenoch; Angus M‘Ewen M‘William there; and Alexander Gordon, ‘appearand’ of Cairnbarrow; and Helen Coutts his spouse; who had been put to the horn for not coming to answer for their ‘not conforming themselves to the religion presently professed within this kingdom, and for their scandalous behaviour otherwise, to the offence of God, disgrace of the Gospel, and misregard of his majesty’s authority.’ Having most ‘proudly and contemptuandly remained under excommunication this long time bygane,’ they went about everywhere as if they had been good subjects, ‘hunting and seeking all occasion where they may have the exercise of their false religion; for which purpose they are avowed resetters of Jesuits, seminary and mass priests, accompanying them through the country, armed with unlawful weapons.’ The Marquis of Huntly, as sheriff-principal of Aberdeen, and Lord Lovat, as ‘sheriff of Elgin and Forres,’ were charged to search for and capture these persons, in order that they might be punished.

There was, finally, an order regarding the priests, who, it was said, were not only corrupting the religion of the people, but perverting their loyalty—‘namely, Mr Andrew Steven, callit Father Steven; Mr John Ogilvie; Father Stitchill; Father Hegitts; Capuchin Leslie, commonly callit The Archangel; Father Ogilvie; Mr William Leslie, commonly callit The Captain; Mr Andrew Leslie; Mr John Leslie; —— Christie, commonly callit The Principal of Dowie; with other twa Christies; Father Brown, son to umwhile James Brown at the Nether Bow of Edinburgh; Father Tyrie; three Robertsons, callit Fathers; Father Robb; Father Paterson; Father Pittendreich; Father Dumbreck; and Doctor William Leslie.’ The Marquis of Huntly, as the proper legal authority for the purpose, ‘and the special man of power, friendship, authority, and commandment in the north parts of the kingdom, and who for many other respects is obleist to contribute his best means for the furtherance and advancement of his majesty’s authority and service,’ was charged to hunt out and apprehend these pestilent men, that the laws might be executed upon them.

To these measures was added a proclamation, chiefly to the people of the northern districts, pointing out the priests by name, as the ‘most pernicious pests in this commonweal,’ and commanding ‘that nane presume nor take upon hand to reset, supply, nor furnish meat, drink, house, nor harboury’ to them, ‘nor keep company with them, nor convoy them through the country, nor to have no kind of dealing nor trafficking with them,’ under the penalties laid down in the acts of parliament. There was a like proclamation regarding the excommunicated laymen and women above mentioned. At the same time, the bishop and magistrates of Aberdeen were commissioned to go with armed bands, and endeavour to apprehend both the priests and their resetters.

1628.

While charging the Marquis of Huntly with some duty against the papists on his own estates and those throughout his jurisdiction, the Council were quite aware of their false position in regard to him, and they deemed it proper (December 4) to send a letter to the king on that special point. They expressed their belief that the chief cause of the late increase of popery and insolency of the papists lay in the fact, that the execution of the laws on these matters was in the hands of notoriously avowed professors of the same faith—men of such power, that inferior officers, however well affected to their duty, were overawed. They in all grief and humility presented this case for his majesty’s serious consideration, entreating that he would debar from the Council and from public employments all who were suspected of popery; manifestly pointing to the marquis. Meanwhile, they said, we have directed warrants to the sheriffs and other authorities, ‘to apprehend the delinquents if they can or darr.’

The Marquis of Huntly, who had been last converted from popery a dozen years ago, and had since, as usual, relapsed, took little trouble with a commission which he felt to be so disagreeable. When the 3d of February arrived, his depute came before the Council, and made some excuse for him, on the ground that execution of the warrants had been delayed by the wintry weather until the delinquents had all escaped; adding a petition that they would not press him to remove his chamberlains till these men should have accounted to him for large sums which they owed to him. Feeling that the marquis had wilfully failed in his duty, they denounced him as a rebel.

1628.

On the 18th of June 1629, the Council issued a charge against Sir John Campbell of Caddell;[13] Mr Alexander Irving, burgess of Aberdeen; Thomas Menzies of Balgownie; Mr Robert Bisset of Lessendrum; John Gordon of Craig; James Forbes of Blackton; Thomas Cheyne of Ranniston; William Seton of Blair; Alexander Gordon of Tilliegreg; Patrick Gordon of Tilliesoul; and Margaret Gordon, goodwife of Cornmellat; representing that, notwithstanding all that had been lately done, they continue obdurate against kirk and law, going about as if nothing were amiss, and enjoying possession of ‘their houses, goods, and geir, whilk properly belongs to his majesty as escheat.’ Seeing that by the latter circumstance they are ‘strengthened and fostered in their popish courses,’ the Council ordained that officers-at-arms ‘pass, pursue, and take the said rebels their houses, remove them and their families furth thereof, and keep and detein the same in his majesty’s name;’ also to search out, poind, and uplift all ‘geir’ of theirs wherever to be found, and bring it to the exchequer. All neighbours were commanded to assist in enforcing these orders.

It was ascertained that the acts against resetting of priests had been ‘eluded by the wives of persons repute and esteemed to be sound in religion, who, pretending misknowledge of the actions of their wives in thir cases, thinks to liberate themselves of the danger of the said resett, as if they were not to answer for their wives’ doings.’ Wherefore, the Council ordained that the husband shall be always, in such cases, answerable for the wife.

At the same time, to gratify the desire of his Scottish Council, the king sent an order that, for the detection of papists in high places, the communion should be administered to all his councillors and judges, all advocates, writers, and officers of the government, in his chapel at Holyroodhouse, and this to be repeated at least once a year. At his majesty’s command, a kind of convention of dignitaries of church and state met at the same place to give the Council their assistance. The result was a commission issued (July 25, 1629) to a great number of nobles and gentlemen, in the several districts popishly affected, to search for and bring to justice those ‘pernicious and wicked pests,’ ‘avowed enemies to God’s truth and all Christian government,’ the Jesuits, seminary and mass priests concealed throughout the country; also to seize all persons of whatever rank, ‘whom they sall deprehend going in pilgrimage to chapels and wells, or whom they sall know themselves to be guilty of that crime,’ that they may be punished according to act of parliament. Supposing the priests and other delinquents should fly to fortified places, then the commissioners were empowered and ordered to ‘follow, hunt, and pursue them with fire and sword, assiege the said strengths and houses, raise fire, and use all other force and warlike engine that can be had for winning and recovery thereof, and apprehending of the said Jesuits and excommunicat papists being therein.’ The commissioners at the same time received assurance that no act of bloodshed on either side, or any destruction of property occasioned in the execution of this order, should be imputed to them as a fault.

1628.

The dignitaries and ministers of the Established Church, without any appearance of unwillingness, took part in this persecution. Many of the bishops sat as members of the Privy Council, and we hear of the ‘dioceses and presbyteries’ helping the government to lists of avowed and suspected papists, against whom proceedings might be taken. None were more active than Spottiswoode, archbishop of St Andrews, and Forbes, bishop of Aberdeen. It was no blank fusillade for mere terror. A great number of the gentlemen and ladies aimed at in the fulminations of the Council were really struck in their persons and estates. We hear of many being thrown into prison, and kept there till they either professed conformity or gave caution that they would depart from the country. Their property was at the same time held as escheat to the crown.

Agreeably to the royal order, the communion was administered in the king’s chapel at Holyroodhouse in July, ‘by sound of trumpet,’ to all such of his majesty’s councillors, members of the College of Justice, and others, as were disposed thus to testify their worthiness of the royal favour. On the 6th of November, the king wrote a letter to his Scottish Council on this subject. ‘Understanding,’ he says, ‘that some popishly affected have neglected this course, we, out of our care and affection for the maintenance of the professed religion, are pleased to will and require that you remove from our council-table all such who are disobedient in that kind.’ This the Council (December 3) obediently resolved to do.

1628.

The Council was much importuned by the captive papists for relief; but it was pithily ordained that none now or hereafter ‘sall be relieved out of ward, but upon obedience and conformity to the true religion, or else upon their voluntary offer of banishment furth of his majesty’s whole dominions.’

One remarkable captive was the Marchioness of Abercorn, whom we have already seen manifesting some ultra-ardour on her own side. This lady had lain for a long time in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh—a lodging which was loathsome in the reign of George III., and may be presumed to have been still worse in that of Charles I. The confinement had procured her ladyship ‘many heavy diseases, so as this whole last winter she was almost tied to her bed,’ and she now ‘found a daily decay and weakness in her person.’ The severity of the fate of this, as of some other persons, may be measured by the mercy extended to her. It being represented to the king that her ladyship, being oppressed with sickness and disease of body, required the benefit of a watering-place, he, being inclined, on the one hand, to do nothing that would derogate from the authority of the church, but, on the other, being unwilling that the lady should be ‘brought to the extremity of losing her life for want of ordinary remedies,’ ordered (July 9, 1629) that she should have a licence to go to the baths of Bristol, but only on condition that she should not attempt to appear at court, and after her recovery, return and put herself again at the disposal of the Council.

Her ladyship, after all, did not go to the Bristol baths, but, after a further restraint of six months in the Canongate [jail?], was permitted to go to reside in the house of Duntarvie, on condition that ‘she sall contain herself [therein] so warily and respectively as she sall not fall under the break of any of his majesty’s laws;’ also that she should, while living there, have conference with the ministry, but allow none to Jesuits or mass priests. Her ladyship is found to have ‘contained herself’ in Duntarvie for a considerable time, but to have at length been under a necessity of resorting to Paisley for the ‘outred’ of some weighty affairs. In March 1631, when she had been under restraint about three years, she was formally licensed to go to Paisley, but only under condition that she should not, while there, ‘reset Thomas Algeo nor no Jesuits,’ and return by a certain day under penalty of five thousand merks.

1628.

Some, while preparing to pass into exile, were naturally concerned about the means of living abroad. These persons, therefore, petitioned that some portion of their confiscated fortunes might be granted to them for their subsistence. The king took these petitions into consideration, and ‘out of his gracious bounty and clemency, in hope of their timely reclaiming,’ ordained that the proceeds of their estates should be divided into three parts, ‘whereof twa sall wholly belong to his majesty, and the third part his majesty does freely bestow upon the said persons;’ this, however, to be wholly forfeited, if the inventory of their possessions rendered by them should prove to be untrue.

Even the princely Huntly was obliged to bow to the storm. Breaking through an order of the Scottish Privy Council, he proceeded direct to court, in the hope of gaining something from the royal favour. Having resigned into the king’s hands his sheriffship of Aberdeen, and made some excuses for his non-execution of the Council’s orders, he obtained certain ‘instructions for the clergy of Scotland,’ ordering them to use Huntly, Angus, Nithsdale, and Abercorn ‘with discretion,’ and not proceed further against them till he should be consulted; also commanding that papist peeresses be not excommunicated, provided their husbands be responsible for them, and that they reset no Jesuits.[14] Huntly then came (November 3) in humble form before the Council, made excuses for his non-execution of their orders, and besought them for a gift of his own confiscated property in behalf of some person whom he might nominate. Notwithstanding the king’s favourable letter, they demurred to this petition, and put him off for some weeks, at the same time taking caution that he should not pass north of the Tay. Coming again before them on the 8th of December, he was told that he could not be excused from ‘exhibiting’ the papists residing on his estates. He was also commanded to return on a certain day, when he might witness his daughters being ‘sequestrat for their better breeding and instruction in the grounds of the true religion.’

Amongst the movements in this important cause was one regarding the children of noted papists. It was feared that the ordinances for having them brought up under Protestant tutors had been much disregarded. The Earl of Angus had been ordered to place his eldest son, James Douglas, under Principal Adamson of the Edinburgh University, to have remained with him some certain space, in order to have his doubts in religion resolved. The young man had given his tutor the slip. The earl was therefore called before the Council. He explained that he had no knowledge of what the youth had done till it was past, and he had since sent him to the Duke of Lennox, that he might be introduced to some English university. He was obliged to crave pardon of the Council for what he had done. The representative of the great Douglases of the fifteenth century compelled, in the seventeenth, to give up the right to educate his own son, and confess himself a delinquent for even attempting such a thing! ‘The Earl of Errol’s twa daughters, the Laird of Dalgetty’s bairns, and the bairns of Alexander Gordon of Dunkinty,’ were said to be under ‘vehement suspicion of being corrupted in their religion by remaining in their fathers’ company.’ So likewise were the daughters of the Marquis of Huntly, the children of Lord Gray, and many others. The Earl of Nithsdale was ordered to ‘exhibit’ his son, that the Council might see if he was right in the faith. Even Lord Gordon, who soon after undertook a commission for the government against the northern papists, was commanded to send his sons to a tutor approven of by the Archbishop of St Andrews.

1628.

We get a glimpse of some of the proceedings in regard to the estates of the Catholic gentlemen from a supplication presented to the Privy Council on the 15th of December 1629 by the commissioners of the diocese of Aberdeen. It proceeds to narrate that, it having pleased the Lords, ‘to the glory of God and comfort of all weel-affected subjects, for purging the land of popery, to grant sundry letters against excommunicat rebels, their persons, houses, and rents’—decreets, moreover, having been obtained in the Court of Session for poinding and arrestment—the officers had consequently dealt with certain friends of the victims, who had undertaken to labour the lands for the crop 1629, and to account for the result according to a valuation made ‘before the corns came to the hook;’ but there had been some slackness in the working out of these arrangements, ‘to the great hinder of his majesty’s service, and encouraging of these excommunicat rebels to continue in their obstinacy and disobedience.’ It was therefore necessary to take sharper methods; and a strict commission to the Bishop of Aberdeen was suggested. The Council accordingly ordered the bishop to call the officers before him, and have them ‘tried of their diligence’ and honest and dutiful carriage in this matter, and to see that they were prompted where necessary.

For further proceedings regarding the ‘excommunicat papists and rebels,’ see forward, under January 1630.

1629. Jan. 26.

On this day—an unusual season for thunder in our climate—a thunder-clap fell upon Castle-Kennedy, the seat of the Earl of Cassillis in Ayrshire—‘which, falling into a room where there were several children, crushed some dogs and furniture; but happily the children escaped. From thence descending to a low apartment, it destroyed a granary of meal. At the same time, a gentleman in the neighbourhood had about thirty cows, that were feeding in the fields, struck dead by the thunder.’[15]

Apr. 15.

1629.

The case of John Weir ‘in Clenochdyke,’ who had married Isobel Weddell, the relict of his grand-uncle, and thus been guilty of ‘incest,’ was under the consideration of the Privy Council. Weir had been three years under excommunication for this crime, which the Council deemed ‘fit to procure the wrath and displeasure of God to the whole nation.’ The king’s advocate was now ordered to proceed with his trial, and, in the event of his conviction, to cause sentence to be passed; but they superseded execution till July. Weir was actually tried on the 25th of April, found guilty, and sentenced to be beheaded at the Cross of Edinburgh.[16] After suffering a twelvemonth’s imprisonment under this sentence, he became a subject for the special mercy of the king, and was only banished the island for life.

Weir’s is not a solitary case. On the 19th of August in the same year, Henry Dick, ‘in Bandrum,’ was adjudged to lose his head for a transgression in connection with the sister of his wife, this offence being regarded as incest, and misinterpreted as a breach of a well-known text which is still the basis of an English law. In July 1649, Donald Brymer for the same offence was sentenced to the same punishment. It is worthy of notice that, in June 1643, Janet Imrie, who had been the paramour of two brothers, was for that reason condemned to be beheaded.

One of the most remarkable of a large class of cases of this kind was that of Alexander Blair, a tailor in Currie, who had married his first wife’s half-brother’s daughter.[17] For this offence, under reverence for the same misinterpreted text, he was condemned to lose his head! (September 9, 1630.)

It is deplorable to see these severe punishments inflicted for acts which neither interfere with any principle of nature, nor tend in any way to injure the rights of individuals or to trouble society. At the same time, the marriage of first-cousins, which tends to the deterioration of the race, was not forbidden.[18] And offences of real consequence, as affecting the condition of individuals, were visited with comparatively light penalties. Thus, on the same day when Alexander Blair, tailor in Currie, was sentenced to lose his head for marrying his first wife’s half-brother’s daughter, William Lachlane was adjudged to banishment for life for bigamy. The jurisprudence of the country on these points was mainly guided by a few semi-religious or rather superstitious views, while the voice of God through nature no one thought of listening to or applying.

1629. May 14.

Died Jean Gordon, remarkable in our history as the lady whom James Hepburn Earl of Bothwell divorced in 1567, in order to be enabled to ally himself to Queen Mary. She survived that frightful time, in peace and honour, for sixty-two years, exemplifying how durable are calmness and prudence in comparison with passion and guilt. Since her separation from Bothwell, she had been the wife of two other husbands—first, Alexander Earl of Sutherland; and second, the Laird of Boyne. ‘A virtuous and comely lady, judicious, of excellent memory, and of great understanding above the capacity of her sex; in this much to be commended, that, during the continual changes and particular factions of the court in the reign of Queen Mary, and in the minority of King James VI., (which were many,) she always managed her affairs with so great prudence and foresight, that the enemies of her family could never prevail against her, nor move those that were the chief rulers of the state at the time, to do anything to her prejudice; a time indeed both dangerous and deceitful. Amidst all these troublesome storms, and variable courses of fortune, she still enjoyed the possession of her jointure, which was assigned unto her out of the earldom of Bothwell, and kept the same until her death, yea, though that earldom had fallen twice into the king’s hands by forfeiture in her time.... By reason of her husband Earl Alexander his sickly disposition, together with her son’s minority at the time of his father’s death, she was in a manner forced to take upon her the managing of all the affairs of that house a good while, which she did perform with great care, to her own credit, and the weal of that family.... She was the first that caused work the coal heugh beside the river of Brora, and was the first instrument of making salt there. This coal [now interesting chiefly in a geological point of view, as connected with the oolitic formation] was found before by Earl John, father of Earl Alexander; but he, being taken away by an untimely death, had no time to enterprise this work. This lady built the house of Cracock, where she dwelt a long time.’—G. H. S.

This character, though drawn by the partial hand of a son, may be accepted as on the whole a true, as it is certainly a pleasing description, of the divorcée of Bothwell. The lady was buried in Dornoch Cathedral

July 18.

1629.

A service to property depending at this time before the Court of Session between the Earl of Cassillis and the Earl of Wigton, these nobles appeared in Edinburgh, each with a multitude of followers, who paraded the streets in a tumultuous manner, and with such demonstrations of animosity as must have recalled the days of James VI. to many an anxious citizen. The Privy Council met in alarm, and appointed a committee to go and admonish the two litigant nobles about these unseemly appearances. It was enjoined that, while in town waiting on the service, they should not appear on the streets with more than twelve followers each, and that in peaceable manner, nor come to the bar with more than six, dismissing all others who had not known occasion to be present. At the same time, the noblemen who were the friends of the several parties were ‘to forbear the backing of them at this time,’ on pain of censure as ‘troublers of his majesty’s peace.’—P. C. R.

Throughout the whole time of the papist persecution, the Scottish authorities found it necessary to give a good deal of attention to matters of diablerie. Either witches and warlocks were particularly rife at that time, or the same enlightened spirit which assailed the papists was particularly keen-sighted and zealous in finding out offenders connected with the other world.

On the 30th of October 1628, the Earl of Monteath, Lord Justice-general of the kingdom, reported to the Privy Council the case of Janet Boyd, spouse to Robert Neill, burgess of Dumbarton, who had freely confessed that she had entered in covenant with the devil, had received his mark, had renounced her baptism, and been much too intimate with the above grisly personage, through whose power she had laid diseases upon sundry persons. The Council approved of a commission for trying Janet and for ‘the punishing of so foul and detestable a crime.’—P. C. R.

In the course of 1629, Isobel Young, spouse to George Smith, portioner in East Barns in Haddingtonshire, was burnt for witchcraft. She had been accused of both inflicting and curing diseases; and it appears that she and her husband had sent to the Laird of Lee to borrow his curing-stone for their cattle, which had the ‘routing ill.’ This is interesting as an early reference to the well-known Lee Penny, which is yet preserved in the family of Lockhart of Lee, being an ancient precious stone or amulet, set in a silver penny. It is related that Lady Lee declined to lend the stone, but gave flagons of water in which the penny had been steeped. This water, being drunk by the cattle, was believed to have effected their cure.

1629.

One Alexander Hamilton was apprehended as a notorious warlock, and put into the Tolbooth of Edinburgh—where he would have for a companion in captivity the Lady Abercorn, whose offence was not less metaphysical than his own. He ‘delated’ four women of the burgh of Haddington, and five other women of its neighbourhood, as guilty of witchcraft. The Privy Council sent orders (November 1629) to have the whole Circean nine apprehended; and as their poverty made it inconvenient to bring them to Edinburgh, the presbytery of Haddington was enjoined to examine them in their own district. What was done with them ultimately, we are not informed. Another woman, named Katherine Oswald, residing at Niddry near Edinburgh, was likewise accused by Hamilton, and taken into custody. This seems to have been considered an unusually important case, as four lawyers were appointed to act as assessors to the justices on her trial.—P. C. R. It was alleged of Katherine that she had that partial insensibility which was understood to be an undoubted proof of the witch quality. Two witnesses stated that they ‘saw ane preen put in to the heid, by Mr John Aird, minister, in the panel’s shoulder, being the devil’s mark, and nae bluid following, nor she naeways shrinking thereat.’[19]

Hamilton alleged that he had been with Katherine at a meeting of witches between Niddry and Edmondstone, where they met with the devil. It was also stated that she had been one of a witch-party who had met at Prestonpans, and used charms, on the night of the great storm at the end of March 1625. But the chief articles of her dittay bore reference to cures which she had wrought by sorcery. Katherine was convicted and burned.—B. A.

1629.

In November, the Privy Council issued a commission to the Bishop of Dumblane for the examination of John Hog and Margaret Nicolson his spouse, ‘upon their guiltiness of the crime of witchcraft, with power to confront them with others who best can give evidence.’ This pair were soon after brought to the Edinburgh prison, whence, however, they were speedily released on caution for reappearance. The Lords, on the same day, issued a charge against ‘Margaret Maxwell spouse to Nicol Thomson, and Jean Thomson her daughter, spouse to umwhile Edward Hamilton, in Dumfries,’ who, it was said, had procured the death of the said Edward ‘by the devilish and detestable practice of witchcraft.’ Claud Hamilton of Mauchline-hole, brother of the deceased Edward, soon after (December 22, 1629) presented a petition to the Privy Council, claiming that they should order an examination of Geillie Duncan of Dumfries, now in hands there on suspicion of a concern in the fact. The Council accordingly commissioned the magistrates and ministers of Dumfries to effect this examination.

The warlock Alexander Hamilton also accused the Lady Home of Manderston, in Berwickshire, of having practised against the life of her husband by witchcraft. Patrick Abernethy, notar in Dunse, and William Mowat, a servant, were accordingly cited by the Council to come and give information regarding the case. The presence of Sir George himself was of course desirable; but Sir George, like many other good Scotch lairds, of that day and of later days, was under some danger of the law on account of his debts. It therefore became necessary to send him a protection, in order that he might be enabled to appear in the city. There does not seem to have been any other foundation for this charge than the fact, that Sir George Home and his wife did not live on amicable terms. Some months after (June 29, 1630), we find Sir George giving caution that he will not molest his wife or any of her tenants, ‘in their bodies, lands, rooms, possessions, corns, cattle, guids or geir, otherwise nor by order of law.’

Hamilton himself was tried (January 22, 1630), when it came out that he had begun his wicked career in consequence of meeting the devil in the form of a black man on Kingston Hills, in Haddingtonshire. Being engaged to serve the fiend, he was instructed to raise him by beating the ground thrice with a fir-stick, and crying: ‘Rise up, foul thief!’ He had consequently had him up several times for consultations; sometimes in the shape of a dog or cat, sometimes in that of a crow. By diabolic aid, he had caused a mill full of corn, belonging to Provost Cockburn, to be burned, merely by taking three stalks from the provost’s stacks, and burning them on the Garleton Hills. He had been at many witch-meetings where the enemy of man was present. This wretched man was sentenced to be worried at a stake and burned.

1629.

On the 3d of July 1630, the Council took order in the case of Alie Nisbet, midwife, of Hilton (apparently in Berwickshire), and also in that of John Neill, John Smith, and Katharine Wilson, ‘concerning their practice of witchcraft.’ Nisbet was accused of curing a woman by taking a pail with hot water and bathing the patient’s legs. This may appear as a very natural and proper kind of treatment; but there was an addition: she put her fingers into the water, and ran three times round the bed widdershins, or contrary to the direction of the sun, crying: ‘The bones to the fire, and the soul to the devil!’ thereby putting the disease upon another woman, who died in twenty-four hours. Nisbet also had put some enchanted water under a threshold, for the injury of a servant-girl against whom she had a spite, and who passing over it was bewitched, and died instantly. She was ‘worried and burnt.’—B. A.

In March 1631, occurred a case which throws some light upon the affair in which Sir George Home of Manderston was the intended victim. John Neill, in Tweedmouth, was then brought forward and tried for sorcery and witchcraft. It was alleged of him that ‘he made a man’s wife wash her husband’s shirt in a south running water, and then put it on him; whereupon he recovered.’ He professed skill in both laying on and taking off diseases. Amongst other things laid to his charge was ‘meeting with the devil and other witches on Coldingham Law, and consulting how Sir George Home of Manderston might be destroyed, to that end getting ane enchanted dead foal, and putting it in Sir George’s stable, under his horse’s manger, and putting a dead hand enchanted by the devil in Sir George’s garden in Berwick; by which enchantments Sir George contracted a grievous disease, of which he could not be recovered till the said foal and hand were discovered and burnt.’ He was found guilty.[20]—B. A.

Nov. 19.

At this time, the country was overrun by a multitude of ‘strong and sturdy Irish beggars,’ who went in troops, extorting alms where it was not freely given them. ‘Where they perceive they can be masters, they commit sundry insolencies upon his majesty’s good subjects, who are not able to withstand them.’ Thus ‘the native poor are prejudged of their almous by the scoffery and oppression of thir sturdy beggars, who are an heavy and insupportable burden to the country.’ An order was issued by the Privy Council for clearing the country of this nuisance.—P. C. R.

1629.

Lady Jean Drummond, only daughter of the Earl of Perth, was married to the Earl of Sutherland, with a portion of 5000 merks, ‘the greatest portion that ever was given in Scotland before that time.’—Hist. House of Seytoun.

This notice may be held to imply that 5000 merks (£287, 17s. 4d.) was an uncommonly liberal portion for a woman of family in that age; but the writer is not correct in saying that it was unexampled till 1629. This will appear from the following notice, extracted from the Caldwell Papers, in which there are instances of equal or larger dowries before that time, as well as of some smaller: William Mure of Glanderston, marrying Elizabeth Hamilton, aunt to Gavin Commendator of Kilwinning, in 1559, received with her a dower of 400 merks, with a beneficial interest in two farms. In 1583, Lady Anne Montgomery of Eglintoun brought her husband, Lord Semple, 6000 merks. The dowry of Jean Hamilton, the vicar of Dunlop’s daughter, in 1613, was 5000 merks; that of Jean Knox of Ranfurly, 11,000 merks; Jean Mure of Glanderston, in 1671, 8000 merks; Margaret Mowat of Ingliston, in 1682, 12,000 merks.

When we turn back to an earlier age, we find what appears much greater simplicity on the point of tochering daughters. The Laird of Grant and Margaret Ogilvie, daughter of James Ogilvie of Deskford, were married in 1484. For a curious anecdote of their son, Shemus nan Creagh, see under February 7, 1592. ‘Their marriage-contract yet extant [dated 1484] gives account of the tocher, jointure, and friendship between these families. The tocher given by Sir James Ogilvie with his daughter to the Laird of Grant was three hundred merks, paid at five terms or years; that is, forty pounds Scots yearly; and the jointure given by Sir John to his lady, together with the provision of their children, was twenty merks’ worth of land yearly.’[21]

Dec. 26.

1629.

In the fertile district between Falkirk and Stirling, there was a large moss with a little loch in the middle of it, occupying a piece of gradually rising ground; a highly cultivated district of wheat-land lay below. There had been a series of heavy rains, and the moss became overcharged with moisture. After some days, during which slight movements were visible on this quagmire, the whole mass began one night to leave its native situation, and slide gently down to the lower grounds. The people who lived on these lands, receiving sufficient warning, fled and saved their lives; but in the morning light they beheld their little farms, sixteen in number covered six feet deep with liquid moss, and hopelessly lost.[22]

The singular nature of this calamity, and the sad case of the poor people who had by it lost their all, drew general attention. The Privy Councillors sent commissioners to the place to ‘give order where and in what places draughts sall be casten, levels and passages made, and what else is fitting to be done, for securing the neighbouring lands from inundation and skaith.’ There was also a general collection of money throughout the kingdom for the relief of the sufferers.—P. C. R.

1630. Jan.

Jan. 15.

There is no room to doubt that the king, so far as he took any part in the prosecution of the northern papists, only had in view ‘the comfort of his weel-affected subjects,’ and was willing to make the papists suffer no more than was fairly necessary to maintain the reputation of his ecclesiastical policy. He must have strongly sympathised with the Catholic nobles, all of whom were his personal friends, and supporters of his government; nor could he have heard of even the sufferings of the middle-class gentry without some compunctious visitings. We find him in January 1630 venturing on a measure of lenient tendency. The Lord Gordon, eldest son of the Marquis of Huntly, had been, through the influence of the late king, brought up with Protestant leanings. To him King Charles thought of granting a commission for the execution of the laws against the excommunicated papists, no doubt calculating that he would use a humane discretion in the business. The Privy Council accordingly gave him such a commission, to last for four months, and to include the power of appropriating the rebels’ rents to his own use. We learn from Sir Robert Gordon, that Lord Gordon was unwilling to accept this commission, lest he should offend his father and prejudice his position as commander of the King of France’s Scots Guard. But he got over his scruples, and, as Sir Robert tells, performed his duty with a degree of ‘dexterity and moderation’ that gained him the approbation of all parties.

While Lord Gordon proceeded northward with this large commission, his father remained in restraint in Edinburgh, still under obligation to exhibit the rebels on his own property, if Lord Gordon should fail to do so; and his daughters rested there also, under ‘sequestration,’ that the ministers of the true gospel might have access to them and induce them to attend church.

Lord Gordon had scarcely been a fortnight in enjoyment of his commission, when he found occasion to petition the Privy Council regarding the escheats of the rebels. If they gave these men a third of their rents as a means of supporting them abroad, it would be a deduction so far from the remuneration held out to him. Was this just? They appear to have been sensible of the force of this appeal, for they immediately decreed that no such deduction should be made. Whether Lord Gordon actually meant to appropriate these rents wholly to himself, does not appear.

On the 1st of June, Lord Gordon came before the Council to report progress, and it appeared that he had really used some diligence. Mr Robert Bisset; Gordon of Tilliesoul; John Gordon at the Mill of Rathven; Gordon of Drumquhaill; Alaster Gordon, in Badenoch; Hugh Hill; John Spence and his spouse; John Gordon, in Troups-mill, and his spouse; and Alexander Gordon, had all ‘given obedience and reconciled themselves to the kirk;’ that is, had put a constraint upon their professions of belief, and conformed to what in their hearts they detested. Others as yet stood out in their ‘obstinate disobedience to the church’—namely, Robert Bisset’s spouse; Gordon of Cairnbarrow; Gordon of Letterfour; the goodwife of Cornmellat; Malcolm Laing; Adam Strachan; Angus M‘Ewen; Gordon of Corrichie; Forbes of Blackton and his spouse; Robert Innes’s spouse; Con, at Knockmill; Leslie, in Convach; the spouse of Thomas Menzies of Balgownie; and Alexander Irving, his wife, and brother. Gordon of Craig and his eldest son offered caution to retire from the country. Margaret Gordon was confined in Banff, and Menzies of Balgownie was in exile.

1630.

Of nearly every one of the obdurate we have some account of what they afterwards did or suffered. Most of them appeared (July 20), and came under obligation either to conform before a certain day or straightway to leave the country. About the same time, Sir John Ogilvy of Craig, who had long been warded in Edinburgh Castle for his religion, and also Dr William Leslie, came under similar engagements. One of those who seemed least likely to succumb was John Gordon of Bountie. Living close to the gate of Viscount Melgum, the brother of Lord Gordon, he had been bold enough to allow a priest, Mr Robert Mortimer by name, to perform a mass before a large company in his house; and when two of the presbytery came to Lord Melgum’s house to remonstrate, and John was called in to speak for himself, he broke forth in outrageous reviling speeches, saying he would leave the country, but before he went he would take the lives of these two ministers. But even this hot-headed gentleman was brought low. He was induced to make a humble supplication to the Bishop of Aberdeen for reconciliation with the church; and on an ample declaration of his repentance, he was absolved from excommunication. It is lamentable to think, of such a zealot being obliged, for the saving of his property and place in the country, to swear on his ‘great oath’ eternal allegiance to the Protestant Church, and, with a heart full of suppressed rage and indignation, sit down and eat and drink unworthily of the feast which symbolises the union of the heart to the religion of peace and love.

On the 27th of July, the Council received a petition from John Gordon of Craig, which, on account of its simple and touching expression, may be given entire.[23] It ‘humbly sheweth that, for religion, order hath been given for banishing the petitioner’s son, his wife and children, and confining himself—in respect of his great age—in a town within Scotland [Cupar], which order they have all humbly obeyed, his son, wife, and poor children having forthwith abandoned the kingdom. A two part of the poor estate which he hath being allotted for his son and his family, and a third part for himself, he now findeth that by such a mean proportion he cannot be able to live, being both aged and sickly. His humble suit is, that he may have leave to depart the kingdom to live with his son, because by their estate undivided, they may all be more able to subsist than otherwise.’ It will probably surprise the reader, even after the preceding recital, to learn that the Council found the desire of the supplication ‘unreasonable,’ and ‘forder declare that the said John Gordon of Craig sall have no modification nor allowance of ane third part of his estate and living, except he remain within the kingdom and keep the bounds of his confinement.’

1630.

On the 7th of February 1630, it was found that, owing to Cupar being situated on a thoroughfare, old Craig was visited by a considerable number of persons ‘suspect in religion, with whom he has not only secret conference, but there is pregnant presumption that other practices are enterteined amang them in hurt and prejudice to the true religion.’ This being in contravention of the agreement made with Craig, that he should have conference only with the ministry and not with papists, he was ordered to be removed to the out-of-the-way burgh of Crail, and to be confined there and within a mile thereof.

After the popish gentlemen had been thus dealt with, there remained a considerable number of ladies who as yet had not been much troubled. But these gentlewomen were not to escape. On the 23d of December 1630, the Privy Council adverted to ‘Madelen Wood, spouse to —— Leslie of Kincraigie; Jonet Wood, spouse to John Gordon of Bountie; Marjory Malcolm, spouse to Matthew Alexander, in Turriff; Barbara Garden, spouse to ——]; —— Gordon, spouse to Mr Robert Bisset of Lessendrum; Isobel Strachan, spouse to John Spence, in Brunstain; and —— ——, spouse to John Gordon at the Mill of Rathven, who are not only professed and avowed papists, and excommunicat by orders of the kirk for that cause, but with that they are denounced his majesty’s rebels and contemptuously lies at the horn unrelaxt.’ It was further alleged of these ladies, that they ‘are common resetters, hoorders, and enterteiners of Jesuits, and mess priests, and trafficking papists—hears mess of them, and otherwise lives aftir ane most scandalous and offensive manner.’ An order was issued that these women should appear personally with their husbands, ‘that order may be tane with them.’

As a specimen of the dealing of the authorities with the gentler and weaker sex:—On the 9th of September 1630, the Lords of Council received a petition from Elizabeth Garioch, setting forth her case as a sufferer for her ‘averseness and non-conformity to the religion presently professed.’ She was an old decrepit woman, past threescore and ten years, bedrid for the present, and not likely long to live. She had lain for months in the Tolbooth of Aberdeen, with ‘no earthly means to entertein herself but ane croft of sax bolls sawing, and neither husband nor child to attend to the winning and in-gathering thereof.’ The misery of her circumstances made her restraint, she said, the more grievous. Therefore she craved release from prison, professing, ‘for the eschewing of scandal, which her remaining in the country may breed or occasion,’ her willingness to give security that she should remove herself forth of the kingdom. The Lords mercifully remitted to the Bishop of Aberdeen to see to Elizabeth Garioch being liberated on her giving caution to the extent of a thousand merks for her self-banishment.

1630.

In November 1630, a curious circumstance is noted regarding the Dr William Leslie above named. Licence was granted to him by the Privy Council to return temporarily to medicate to the Marquis of Huntly, he being the person ‘whose judgment in matters of that kind the said marquis does only trust,’ it being provided ‘that the said Dr William shall behave himself modestly, without giving offence and scandal in matters concerning the religion.’—P. C. R.

It is remarkable that, while the histories of our country and its national church are careful to note every particular of the conflict between presbytery and episcopacy at this period, there is nowhere the slightest allusion to these sufferings of the remnant of Romanists, towards which Presbyterians and Episcopalians alike contributed. It is to be feared that the actual severities which were dealt upon the party were not the worst evils in the case. In the external conformity which was forced upon many—so many that only sixty avowed papists were thought to be left in Scotland—we cannot doubt that there was involved a hypocrisy which would be bitterly felt—always the more bitterly where there was an upright and honourable spirit—and which would in the long-run have the most demoralising effects.

1630.

A full history of the proceedings of the Romish priests in Scotland, during the reigns of James VI. and Charles I., would shew examples of heroic courage, self-devotion, and religious enthusiasm, equalling any that can be adduced from the reformed denominations. ‘Capuchin Leslie, called the Archangel,’ appears, from his biography,[24] to have been a man of singular gifts and earnestness. The eldest son of the Laird of Monymusk, in Aberdeenshire, he had been brought up at Paris, and there converted to Romanism in his youth. Before attaining majority, he had gone to those heights in devotion and asceticism which produce hallucinative voices and lights. Making his way through unnumbered dangers to his native castle, he there set himself to the work of preaching. He collected the people in the woods, or beset them as they were leaving the parish church; addressed them in a style of burning eloquence, with threats of the fate reserved for heretics; and is said to have brought thousands into his views in a few weeks. His admiring biographer tells how he confounded the minister of Monymusk by asking him to exhibit any reference to the church of Geneva in the Bible, shewing him at the same time the Scriptural foundation of the true church, by pointing out Paul’s Epistle to the Romans! His mother and other relatives were brought over to the ancient faith. For two years he exposed his life in this manner, but was at length obliged to leave the district by one of these threatening edicts. Meanwhile, his family, being discovered to be Catholics, had their property confiscated, and his mother was obliged to retire to a hovel, where she endeavoured to support herself by spinning. It is related that Father Archangel, being resolved at all hazards to visit her, dressed himself like a gardener, and cried herbs through the village till he discovered his mother. After a hurried interview, he was obliged to leave her once more, and depart from the kingdom. He nevertheless returned and recommenced his labours; and this extraordinary man ultimately sunk at an early age, under a fever caught while making a skulking journey across the Border.

Apr. 21.

John Hart, printer in Edinburgh, being about to bring out an edition of the Bible, the Town Council gave him formal permission to take a new apprentice ‘for the advancement of the said wark,’ ‘notwithstanding the time of three years be not past, since he replaced an apprentice last;’ ‘providing always it sall not be lawful to him to tak and have ane other prentice before the expiring of six years.’—Ed. Coun. Reg.

As restrictions on the taking of apprentices still exist in various trades, we must not be too ready to smile at this as a peculiar trait of the barbarous political economy of a past age.

May 29.

On the birth of the prince, afterwards Charles II., which took place between eleven and twelve this forenoon, the Lyon King at Arms was despatched by the king from London, to carry the news to Scotland. The Lyon arrived in Edinburgh on the third day thereafter, June 1st, when immediately cannon were shot, bells rung, and a table spread in the High Street, between the Cross and the Tron, for two hundred persons, including the nobility, Privy Council, and judges, the company being waited on by the heralds and trumpeters in their official dress.—Bal.

‘In this May were five Saturdays, five Mondays, twa changes of the moon, twa eclipses of the sun, ane other of the moon, all in our horizon.’—Chron. Perth.

June 20.

1630.

Writers of the religious history of Scotland during the seventeenth century, pause upon a remarkable administration of the communion which took place at this date in the Kirk of Shotts. The great attraction on the occasion was a young clergyman, afterwards famous, named John Livingstone. In consequence of the impression now made, a great portion of the assembled multitude remained at the place over the night; so it was necessary for the favourite preacher to hold forth next day. He did so with such power, and such a ‘down-pouring of the spirit,’ that the congregation was thrown into ‘unusual motion,’ and five hundred traced their conversion to that sermon alone. Amongst the hearers were three young men of Glasgow, who, journeying to Edinburgh on a pleasure-excursion, chanced to stop at the village for breakfast and the refreshment of their horses. So affected were they, that they entered into no amusements in Edinburgh, but speedily returned home, and were ever after noted as serious Christians. This is understood to have been the first instance of what has since been a common custom; that is, to have services on the Monday following the communion.—Gillies.

In this year and for some time afterwards, the parish of Stewarton, in Ayrshire, was the scene of ‘a very solemn and extraordinary out-letting of the spirit,’ few Sundays passing ‘without some one being converted, or some convincing proofs of the power of God accompanying his word.’... ‘Yea, many were so choked and taken by the heart, that, through terror, ... they have been made to fall over, and thus carried out of the church, who after proved most solid and lively Christians.’ The fervour spread from house to house along both sides of Stewarton Water. The profane called it the Stewarton Sickness.

1630.

‘The poor people, purely from conscience, were seized with such an apprehension of God’s wrath, and fear of eternal damnation because of their sins, that rest they could have none. This they were able to demonstrate to be no melancholy fancy, but a rational apprehension of their real danger, being at that time both ignorant, profane, and absolutely strangers to Jesus Christ, by [beside or apart from] whom they could have neither hope of mercy nor title to salvation; and this was beyond the reply of any divine. When by godly ministers ... they were directed to the performance of those duties which accomplish conversion from Satan to Christ, their peace became as strong as their terror had been troublesome....’[25] ‘The Countess of Eglintoun did much countenance them, and persuaded her noble lord to spare his hunting and hawking some days to confer with some of them whom she had sent for to that effect. Her lord, after conference with them, protested that he never spoke with the like of them, and wondered at the wisdom they manifested in their speech.’[26]

The Stewarton Sickness took its first rise in the ministrations of Mr David Dickson, minister of Irvine, afterwards a conspicuous figure in the time of the National Covenant. He was accustomed each Monday, being the market-day of the burgh, to give a sermon for the benefit of those who came there with their commodities for sale; and thus it was that the Stewarton people had opportunities of kindling under his eloquence. ‘At Irvine, Mr Dickson’s ministry was singularly countenanced of God. Multitudes were convinced and converted; and few that lived in his day were more honoured to be instruments of conversion than he. People under exercise and soul-concern came from every place about Irvine and attended upon his sermons, and the most eminent and serious Christians from all corners of the church came and joined him at his communions, which were indeed times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.’[27] ‘Yea, not a few came from distant places and settled at Irvine, that they might be under the drop of his ministry. Yet he himself observed that the vintage of Irvine was not equal to the gleanings of Ayr in Mr Welch’s time.’[28]

‘John Lockhart tells me (1727) that he was in company with an old Christian who was a young man in the time of the famous Stewarton Sickness.... In a great many, it came to a kindly conversion ... but in severals it came to nothing, and in a little time wore off, and the persons became just what they were formerly.’—Wodrow.[29]

July.

1630.

At this time there lived near the town of Dunse a poor woman generally believed to be possessed by an evil spirit. The Earl (afterwards Duke) of Lauderdale, when a prisoner in Windsor Castle in 1659, sent an account of her to Mr Richard Baxter, who has published it in his Certainty of the World of Spirits. The earl, then a boy at school, used to hear conversations about the possessed woman between his father and the minister of Dunse, who was fully convinced of the fact of the possession. This clergyman and some other clergymen proposed to the Privy Council a fast for her benefit; but it was not allowed by the bishops. ‘I will not,’ says the earl, ‘trouble you with many circumstances; one only I shall tell you, which I think will evince a real possession. The report being spread in the country, a knight of the name of Forbes, who lived in the north of Scotland, being come to Edinburgh, meeting there with a minister of the north, and both of them desirous to see the woman, the northern minister invited the knight to my father’s house (which was within ten or twelve miles of the woman), whither they came, and next morning went to see the woman. They found her a poor ignorant creature, and seeing nothing extraordinary, the minister says in Latin to the knight: “Nondum audivimus spiritum loquentem.” Presently a voice comes out of the woman’s mouth: “Audis loquentem, audis loquentem.” This put the minister into some amazement (which I think made him not mind his own Latin); he took off his hat, and said: “Misereatur Deus peccatoris!” The voice presently out of the woman’s mouth said: “Dic peccatricis, dic peccatricis;” whereupon both of them came out of the house fully satisfied, took horse immediately, and returned to my father’s house at Thirlstane Castle, in Lauderdale, where they related this passage. This I do exactly remember. Many more particulars might be got in that part of the country; but this Latin criticism, in a most illiterate ignorant woman, where there was no pretence to dispossessing, is enough, I think.’

It may be remarked that the speaking of various languages which they had never learned, was one of the marks required by the canons of the Romish Church to distinguish those under real possession. The Dunse demoniac was remarkably superior in this respect to her contemporaries, the nuns of Loudun, who, in their demonstrations of possession in the celebrated case of Urban Grandier, spoke very bad Latin, not to mention their utter inability to converse in Greek or Hebrew, and yet were held by the authorities as genuine vessels of diabolic influence.

The fact of there being a reputedly possessed woman in Dunse at this time, as the Earl of Lauderdale has stated, is verified by the Privy Council Record, which contains, under date July 13, 1630, an order for bringing before them Margaret Lumsden, ‘the possessed woman in Dunse,’ together with her brother and father-in-law, that order might be taken concerning them, ‘as the importance and nature of such a great cause requires.’

Sep. 23.

1630.

Susanna Chancellor, daughter of the Laird of Shieldhill, was accused before the presbytery of Lanark of consulting with charmers, and ‘burying a child’s clothes betwixt [three] lairds’ lands, for health.’ By penitently presenting herself on her knees before the reverend brethren, she was saved from the due punishment.—R. P. L.

Oct.

At no great distance from the Castle of Strathbogie—the modern Huntly—where the great marquis held state, dwelt two gentlemen of figure, Gordon of Rothiemay and Crichton of Frendraught. In consequence of a dispute about the salmon-fishings in the Doveran, these two gentlemen fell into litigation and bad blood; and at length, from finding Rothiemay obdurate, Frendraught had to get assistance from his neighbours to execute the laws upon his antagonist. On New-year’s Day 1630, a bloody encounter took place between them, and Rothiemay was so severely wounded as to die three days after.

1630.

Frendraught could plead that he had been only carrying out the behests of the law against one who set legal rights and decrees at defiance. But the Marquis of Huntly and other Gordons felt that it was a hard thing for Rothiemay to lose his life on such an account, and Frendraught accordingly fell under their displeasure. The young Laird of Rothiemay, calling in the assistance of the outlaw James Grant, laid waste the lands of Frendraught, who was driven in succession to the Earl of Moray, the king, and the Privy Council for the protection of the laws. It was found necessary by the Council to send a commission to allay the heats which this affair had called forth. When Sir Robert Gordon and other commissioners arrived on the ground in May, they found James Grant and two hundred Highlanders assembled at Rothiemay, ready to lay waste Frendraught’s estate with fire and sword; and it was with no small difficulty that they were stayed. Sir Robert, as a connection of both Frendraught and the Gordon family, was well qualified to bring about a reconciliation, and this he effected with the assistance of the Marquis of Huntly. It was arranged that Frendraught should purchase the forgiveness of the Rothiemay family by paying a sum of money. ‘And so, all parties having shaken hands in the orchard of Strathbogie, they were heartily reconciled,’ says Sir Robert in his gossiping history. One cannot but see in this mode of stilling quarrels an encouragement to new ones. Frendraught, having acted all along under law, ought to have been protected by the law, instead of thus having to pay a fine of fifty thousand merks[30] to buy off the vengeance of a family by whom the law was disregarded and broken. But in those days the law could only be executed by favour of the leading men of the country. These leading men had their passions and their partialities. Sir Robert Gordon probably purchased Frendraught’s safety on the best terms which, in the circumstances, could be obtained.

Bog an Gicht Castle.

1630.

These circumstances form merely the introduction to a long series of disastrous mischances which befell the Laird of Frendraught, and which have made his name memorable in Scottish tradition. In the course of autumn, a gentleman named John Meldrum, who had assisted him in the fray with Rothiemay, quarrelled with him for not being satisfactorily rewarded for his help on that occasion. To make matters right, this gentleman came and took two horses from Frendraught’s lands! Frendraught, hearing that the culprit was harboured by a brother-in-law, Leslie of Pitcaple, came thither to seek back his property; but the encounter only led to one of his friends wounding a son of Pitcaple with a pistol-shot. Here was a new trouble for the unfortunate Frendraught. In great concern for what had taken place, he rode to the Marquis of Huntly at the Bog—the modern Gordon Castle—to beseech his intercession for the stanching of the quarrel. At the same time comes Pitcaple, full of designs of vengeance against Frendraught. The marquis was obliged to detain the latter as his guest, to save him from Pitcaple, who went away in great wrath.

Next day, when Frendraught proposed to go home, the marquis caused his son, Viscount Melgum, to accompany him with some other friends, in order to protect him from any attack which Pitcaple might make upon him by the way. It chanced that the Laird of Rothiemay, so lately reconciled to Frendraught, was present on this occasion; he generously offered to be one of the escort. So Frendraught set out with his gallant company, and reached home in safety.

It was only in conformity with the customs of the age that the laird and his lady should invite Lord Melgum, Rothiemay, and the rest of the party to remain for the night. They did so. The gentlemen consented; and after a merry supper, were conducted to bedrooms in the tall narrow old tower, which, with a modern addition, formed the Castle of Frendraught. In the first floor, over a vault, through which there was a round hole, lay Melgum and two servants; in the second was Rothiemay, also with some servants; in the third, two gentlemen named Chalmers and Rollock, and some more servants, were accommodated.

Oct. 8.

1630.

About midnight, the tower took fire in a sudden manner, ‘yea, in ane clap,’ says Spalding, and involved the whole of the inmates in destruction, except Chalmers, Rollock, and a servant who slept beside Lord Melgum. Swift as the fire was, three persons escaped, and Lord Melgum might have also saved himself, if he had not, under a friendly impulse, run up stairs to rouse Rothiemay. While he was engaged in this act, ‘the timber passage and lofting of the chamber takes fire, so that none of them could win down stairs again.’ So they turned to a window looking towards the court-yard, where they were heard repeatedly calling: ‘Help, help, for God’s cause!’ The windows being stanchioned, and the access by the stair cut off by the flames, it was impossible to render any assistance, and accordingly the six persons enclosed in the burning tower were all piteously burnt to death. Melgum was but twenty-four years of age, and left a widow and child; Rothiemay was unmarried. It is stated by Lady Melgum’s chaplain, that in that last moment of extremity, Lord Melgum induced Rothiemay to make open profession of the Catholic faith; and so, ‘they two being at a window, and whilst their legs were burning, did sing together Te Deum; which ended, they did tell at the window that their legs were consumed, recommending their souls to God, and the nobleman his wife and child, first to God, and then to the king.’[31] A popular ballad of the day speaks of their being called on to leap from the window:

‘How can I leap, how can I win,

How can I leap to thee?

My head’s fast in the wire-window,

My feet burning from me.’

He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,

And thrown them o’er the wall;

Saying: ‘Give them to my lady fair,

Where she sits in the hall.’

1630.

This dismal event created a universal feeling of horror, and plunged the friends of the deceased into the greatest grief. The Laird and Lady of Frendraught were, to all appearance, deeply concerned for what had taken place. On the morning after the fire, the lady, ‘busked in a white plaid, and riding on a small nag, having a boy leading her horse, without any more in her company, in this pitiful manner she came weeping and mourning to the Bog, desiring entry to speak with my lord; but this was refused; so she returned back to her own house, the same gate she came, comfortless.’—Spalding. Her repulse was the more remarkable, as Lady Frendraught was a cousin of the marquis, and brought into bonds of sympathy with him and his family by being a Catholic. A fixed suspicion that she and her husband were the authors of the fire, had taken possession of the Huntly and Rothiemay families, as well as of the populace generally, though not the slightest evidence of guilt has ever been brought against them, and their loss of valuable papers, and of gold and silver articles, to the value, it was alleged, of a hundred thousand marks, rendered any concern of theirs in the fire-raising the very reverse of probable. The laird himself acted in the manner of an innocent man anxious to clear himself of suspicion. He came immediately to the Chancellor Lord Dupplin at Perth, desiring his protection, and offering to submit to trial. The Privy Council do not seem ever to have felt that there were any grounds for charging him with the guilt popularly imputed to him.

More particular suspicions fell upon John Meldrum of Redhill, the quondam adherent of Frendraught, but who had latterly fallen into such bad terms with him; likewise upon John Tosh, the master-household of Frendraught. These persons were accordingly apprehended, brought to Edinburgh, and examined. A servant-girl called Wood was also seized and subjected to torture, with a view to extracting her knowledge of the circumstances; but this only produced prevarications, making her evidence of no avail,[32] and for which she was scourged and banished the kingdom.

In March 1631, the Marquis of Huntly, having resolved ‘not to revenge himself by way of deed,’ as his panegyrist Spalding does not fail to tell us—as if it were a great merit—proceeded to Edinburgh in order to lay his wrongs before the Privy Council. Four commissioners appointed by this body soon after proceeded to Frendraught, which they examined with great care, in company with several noblemen and gentlemen of the district. They found evidence that the fire had originated in the ground-vault of the tower, where there were marks of it in three several places, one of these being directly under the round hole in the roof which communicated with Melgum’s apartment above. They could not determine whether it was accidental; but they felt assured that ‘no hand without could have raised the fire without aid from within.’[33]

1630.

While these matters were pending, there occurred an incident in itself of little importance, but which marks the spirit of the time. The young Earl of Sutherland, brother to Lady Frendraught, and whose late father was cousin-german to Huntly, in the course of a journey to Edinburgh, resolved to spend a night with the marquis, and for that purpose sent forward his message from Elgin. When he arrived in the evening at Bog of Gight, the marquis gave him a cold reception, and told him that he must either break with his brother-in-law Frendraught, or with himself, as he could no longer be the friend of both. The earl answered that he would prefer the marquis to Frendraught, but that he could not with honour throw off his sister’s husband as long as he was law-free. Huntly immediately answered: ‘Then God be with you, my lord,’ and turned away. The Earl of Sutherland lodged that night at a neighbouring hostelry, and in the morning pursued his way south. The singularity of such an event, in an age when it was disrespectful to pass a friend’s door without partaking of his hospitality, gives it great significance.

John Tosh, after submitting to examinations by torture, and denying all guilt, was charged (August 3, 1632) with the offence of setting fire to the tower from within; but the charge was never brought before an assize, the assessors finding that an insuperable bar lay in his having passed through the ordeal of torture without confession. There were some suspicious circumstances against him, chiefly of the nature of inconsistencies in his own declarations; but it was certainly possible to account for these upon a different theory from that of his being guilty.

John Meldrum was tried a twelvemonth later, and as it clearly appeared that he had uttered deadly threatenings against Frendraught’s life, even specifying burning as the means, he was found guilty, and executed. The theory of his guilt seems to have been, that he had set fire to the tower, in the belief that the laird slept there, and effected his purpose by thrusting combustibles and fire through three slits in the wall. It must be admitted that Meldrum was the only man, of all concerned, in whom motive for murder appears; but his guilt is, after all, far from being clear. The wall was ten feet thick, and the commission had decidedly pointed to an origin within. No trace of combustibles was ever adduced, and it was proven that he had been at Pitcaple, ten or twelve miles off, that night. On the whole, when the matter is viewed without the passions of the time, it seems most likely that the fire was accidental.

As for the Gordon family, it remained fully convinced of the guilt of the Laird and Lady of Frendraught; and since full retribution could not be obtained by the law, they behoved to have it in some other way. How they proceeded, will be hereafter described.

Dec.

1630.

At Carron, on Speyside, dwelt a branch of the family of the Grants of Glenmorriston, and near by, at Ballindalloch, was a more important family of the same name. In consequence of a homicide which James Grant of the Carron family had committed some years before, there was a fierce feud between these two families. James, finding his enemies irreconcilable, and seeing no prospect of peace, became lawless and desperate. The power of the Earl of Moray proved ineffectual to repress his constant incursions upon the lands of Ballindalloch, or to obtain possession of his person. Ballindalloch himself consequently became desperate. One day, learning that John Grant of Carron and some of his people were in the forest of Abernethy cutting timber, he set upon him with a party, and killed him, but not without loss of life on his own side. He did this on the presumption that Carron aided his relative the outlaw.—G. H. S.

Dec. 3.

The Earl of Moray interposing his power as lord-lieutenant for the protection of Ballindalloch, James Grant vowed to be avenged by his own hand. On the day here noted, he came with a number of associates to Pitchass, the residence of his enemy, who, for his part, had also a number of friends attending him. ‘To train him out, he sets his corn-yard on fire, and haill laigh bigging, barns, byres, stables, wherein many horse, nolt, and sheep were burnt; and sic bestial as was not burnt, they slew and destroyed. But young Ballindalloch kept the house and durst not come out and make any defence. In like manner, James Grant, with his complices, passed to the town and lands of Tulchin, pertaining to old Ballindalloch, and burnt up and destroyed the haill bigging thereof, corns, cattle, goods and geir, and all which they could get, and to the hills goes he.’

Dec. 13.

The Earl of Moray, unable to see any better mode of dealing with this case than to ‘gar one devil ding another,’ made a paction with three broken men, the principal of whom was brother to the late chief of the Clan Mackintosh; who undertook to bring James Grant to him dead or alive. ‘They find him in the town of Auchnachill, at the head of Strathaven, within a house, and ten men with him.... James and his men wins out and takes to flight. They follow sharply, slew four of his men, wounded himself with arrows in eleven parts of his body, and when he could do no more, he was taken, and his six other men.’ As soon as his wounds were cured, he was conducted to Edinburgh, and imprisoned in the Castle, being ‘admired and looked upon as a man of great vassalage;’ but his six men were all hanged.—Spal.

1630.

Grant lay a prisoner in Edinburgh Castle for nearly two years. It is related that, a former neighbour, Grant of Tomnavoulen, passing one day under his prison windows, he called to him, asking, ‘what news from Speyside?’ ‘None very particular,’ rejoined his acquaintance; ‘the best is that the country is rid of you.’ ‘Perhaps we shall meet again,’ said James.[34]

His wife having conveyed to him some ropes in what was believed to be a cask of butter, Grant came over the walls of the Castle (October 15, 1632) at night, and being received into the arms of his bastard son, immediately left town by a western road. For nine days he lay sick in the woods of Herbertshire, near Denny, and then vanished into the Highlands. The Privy Council, exasperated at his escape, offered a large reward for his apprehension, but in vain. He remained quiet till November 1633, when he began to resume the offensive, ‘partly travelling through the country, sometimes on Speyside, sometimes here, sometimes there, without fear or dread.’ His wife having retired in a delicate condition to a small lodging at Carron on Speyside, where Grant was known to visit her occasionally, young Ballindalloch hired a party of the broken Clan Macgregor, under a renowned outlaw of their tribe, named Patrick Dhu Ger, to beset him there. Grant being at Carron one night with only his bastard son and a single attendant, the Macgregors surrounded the house, and began to uncover it, in order to get at their victim. ‘James Grant, hearing the noise, and seeing himself so beset, that he was not able to keep that house nor win away, resolved to keep the door with the other two as long as they might, and shot out arrows at two windows, [so] that few did venture to come near the door, except their captain ... whilk James Grant perceiving, and knowing him well, presently bends a hagbut, and shoots him through both the thighs, and to the ground falls he. His men leave the pursuit, and loup about to lift him up again; but as they are at this work, James Grant, with the other two, loups frae the house and flies, leaving his wife behind him. He is sharply pursued, and many arrows shot at him; yet he wan away safely to a bog near by with his two men. Patrick Ger died of the shot, within short while, a notable thief, robber, and briganer, oppressing the people wherever he came, and therefore they rejoiced at his death.’—Spal.

1630.

Another year elapsed, during which there had been some abortive attempts at a paction between Grant and young Ballindalloch. One evening in the depth of winter (December 7, 1634), as the latter was sitting at supper in his house of Pitchass, Grant’s wife came in and whispered something in his ear. He rose, took his wife’s plaid about him, and his sword and target in his hand, and went out with the lady, his wife following under anxiety about his welfare. He thus easily fell into an ambuscade which James Grant had set for him, and was hurried off during the night, over moss and muir, to a kiln in the low country near Elgin, where he was kept in bonds under a strong guard, without any of the comforts of life, for three weeks. From this miserable condition, he escaped by the aid of one of his guards named Leonard Leslie, and got in safety to Innes House, where he was kindly entertained. By his own exertions, one Thomas Grant, the owner of the kiln, was hanged next summer for harbouring the outlaw James; two other men were banished for the same offence. Meanwhile, the Macgregors were active in despoiling and laying waste the lands of Corse and Craigievar, in professed revenge for the slaughter of Patrick Ger; but in February 1636, by the exertions of Stewart of Craigievar, seven of them were taken and hanged at the Cross of Edinburgh. This, again, brought into prominence a lawless Macgregor, known popularly under the name of Gilderoy, who, desiring vengeance on the Stewarts, burned some of their lands in Athole. Thus it was that wickedness continued its own existence in those days when public justice was weak.

One Thomas Grant, believed to be the same person who had thrown a taunt at James in Edinburgh Castle, was reputed to have undertaken, for Ballindalloch, to bring the outlaw to him dead or alive. James, hearing of this, came to Thomas’s house, and, missing him, killed sixteen of his cattle. Lighting upon Thomas lying in bed at a friend’s house near by, with his bastard brother, the pitiless outlaw took them both out naked and killed them (April 5, 1636). A few days after, he came with four men to Strathbogie, and by chance craved food at the hangman’s house. The hangman, frightened at the appearance of his visitors, stole away and gave information to the bailie, who presently came with an armed party and surrounded the house. Then a desperate and bloody conflict took place, in the course of which the bailie lost two of his men. Grant after all got clear of his assailants under cloud of night; leaving, however, his bastard son and two of his men a prey to justice. Very soon after (July 27), Gilderoy and some of his associates were likewise brought to Edinburgh, and hanged.

1630.

Notwithstanding the accumulated guilt of James Grant, he subsequently obtained a remission, and lived to take part in the troubles attending the introduction of the Covenant.

Dec. 14.

The Privy Council issued a thundering order for the putting down of those ‘vagabonds, thieves, and limmers,’ the Egyptians, of whom large bands were going about in the north parts of the kingdom, armed, extorting whatever they needed from such of the lieges as were not able to resist them.

1631. Jan. 11.

We get some idea of the difficulties which beset the people of a country before time and means have been obtained for forming roads, bridges, and other public works of utility, from a petition presented to the Privy Council by the minister of Rattray regarding the river Ericht, a well-known stream which debouches from the Highlands in his neighbourhood, amidst a scene truly romantic to the gaze of the modern tourist, but formerly pregnant with trouble to the people of the country. A much-frequented road or line of communication between the north and south parts of the kingdom crossed this stream at Craighall without a bridge. In a time of stormy weather, this river runs with such force that there is no ford, ‘and very oft for the space of aucht days together all passage at that water, either by coble, horse, or foot, is interrupted, to the great hinder of his majesty’s subjects, and to the extreme hazard of many of their lives, of whom, during the short time the supplicant has attended the kirk of Rattray, auchteen persons to his knowledge have perished in that water.’ An order was given for a general subscription to build a bridge.—P. C. R.

Mar. 31.

There being a scarcity at this time on the continent, while Scotland possessed a considerable quantity of wheat, the Privy Council, considering these facts, and, moreover, that wheat is not ‘the common grain wherewith the whole lieges are ordinarily fed,’ granted licence for the exporting of 4000 bolls.—P. C. R.

Apr. 10.

1631.

The Town Council of Edinburgh forbade the wearing of plaids by women in the streets, under pain of corporal punishment. The plaid was the Scottish mantilla, and, serving to hide the face, was supposed to afford a protection to immodest conduct. A few years later (1636), the Council found that women were still addicted to the use of the plaid, or went about with their skirts over their heads, ‘so that the same is now become the ordinar habit of all women within the city, to the general imputation of their sex, matrons not being able to be discerned from loose-living women, to their awn dishonour and scandal of the city.’ For these faults, heavy fines were announced.

It is amusing to find ladies subjecting themselves to false imputations, by following this denounced fashion, when they had only to walk about with their faces exhibited in order to refute or repel all scandal.

July 16.

Died this day Francis, eighth Earl of Errol, noted about forty years before for his concern in the various papist rebellions, by which the reign of King James was so much troubled. ‘He was buried in the church of Slaines, in the night, convoyed quietly with his own domestics and country friends with torch-light. It was his will to have no gorgeous burial, nor to convocate his noble friends with making great charges and expenses, but to be buried quietly, and such expenses as should be wared prodigally upon his burial, to give the same to the poor. This was a noble man, of a great and courageous spirit, who had great troubles in his time, which he stoutly and honourably still carried, and now in favour died in peace with God and man, and a loyal subject to the king, to the great grief of his kin and friends.’—Spal.

July.

When word came to Scotland regarding the seven hundred Protestants expelled from the Palatinate, and who had arrived in Nuremberg in great distress, there was a strong feeling excited in their behalf, and a collection for their relief was resolved on. It appears that, within a twelvemonth, one thousand pounds sterling was collected and sent to London; to which was afterwards added five hundred more. A considerable sum, considering the time, means of the people, and the object.—P. C. R.

Aug.

1631.

A levy of 6000 Scots passed to Germany for the assistance of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden against the emperor. They were under the command of James Marquis of Hamilton, who appeared to have raised them on his own account, and without any sanction from the king, though in reality Charles was interested in the expedition, as calculated to favour the restoration of his brother-in-law the Elector Palatine of the Rhine. This body of troops contributed to the great victory of Leipzig, which threw the whole of Northern Germany into the power of Gustavus, and it afterwards helped in the recovery of Magdeburg; but bravery and zeal could not save it from the diseases which afflicted a country reduced by war to the last extremity of wretchedness. A year saw it the mere shadow of what it originally was, while the marquis was recalled in disgust to his own country. Nevertheless, the remains of the force adhered to the Swedish service.

Monro, in his confused way, gives a list of the Scottish officers who were under the command of Gustavus in the latter part of 1632, adding in some instances particulars of their subsequent career. It may be transferred to these pages, as the memorial of a brave and honourable movement of the Scottish nation, and because the very names of these Monroes, Leslies, and Ramsays of two hundred years ago, can scarcely be read in such an association of ideas without exciting some interest in a Scottish bosom.[35]

‘Field Officers.—The Marquis of Hamilton, general of the British army; Sir James Spence, general over Scots;[36] Sir Patrick Ruthven, governor of Ulm, and since general;[37] Sir Alexander Leslie, governor over the cities along the Baltic coast, and since field-marshal over the army in Westphalia [subsequently Earl of Leven]; Major-general James King, since lieutenant-general;[38] Sir David Drummond, general-major and governor of Stettin, in Pomerania;[39] Sir James Ramsay, general-major, had a regiment of Scots, and since was governor of Hanau.[40]

1631.

‘Colonels that served then of Scots.—My Lord of Reay ( M‘Kay), colonel to a brigade of Scots; Sir John Hepburn, colonel, succeeded to command the Scottish brigade, and since was slain in France; Sir John Ruthven, colonel to a brigade of Dutch, and since general-major; Sir James Lumsden, colonel to a regiment of Scots; Alexander Ramsay, colonel and governor of Creutzenach; Robert Leslie, colonel to a regiment of Scots; Robert Monro, baron of Foulis, colonel of horse and foot over Dutch, and since died of his wounds at Ulm; John Monro of Obstell, colonel to a regiment of Scots, and since slain on the Rhine at Weteraw; Ludovick Leslie, colonel to a regiment of Scots, which was Sir John Hamilton’s; Robert Monro, colonel to a regiment of Scots, which was my Lord of Reay’s; James Kerr, colonel to a regiment of Scots, and since general-major; Sir Frederick Hamilton, colonel to a regiment of Scots and Irish; the Master of Forbes, colonel to a regiment of Scots;[41] Alexander Hamilton, colonel to a regiment of Scots;[42] the Earl of Crawfurd-Lindsay, colonel to a foot-regiment of Dutch, and since slain;[43] William Baillie, colonel to a regiment of foot of Dutch; Sir William Ballantyne, colonel to a foot-regiment of English; Sir James Ramsay, colonel to a foot-regiment of English, and since died at London; Alexander Forbes, called Finnesse Forbes, colonel to a regiment of Finnes; Walter Leckie, colonel to foot.

‘Scots Colonels that served this time in Sweden, Liefland, and Spruce.—James Seaton, colonel to foot of Swedes; Colonel Kinninmond, colonel to foot of Swedes, since dead; Colonel Thomson, colonel to foot of Swedes, since dead; Colonel Scott, colonel to foot of Finnes, since dead; William Cunningham, colonel to foot of Scots, in Spruce; Francis Ruthven, colonel to foot of Dutch, in Spruce; Sir John Meldrum, colonel in Spruce to foot.

‘Lieutenant-colonels.—Thomas Hume of Carolside, —— Douglas, Henry Muschamp, Alexander Leslie, Alexander Cunningham, —— Vavasour, William Gunn, John Leslie, Finnesse Forbes, Alexander Forbes, called the Bald, Robert Stewart, Hector Monro, Sir George Douglas, George Leslie, John Lindsay of Bainshow, —— Monypenny, Alexander Lindsay, John Sinclair, William Stewart, Henry Lindsay, William Lindsay, James Henderson, Sir Arthur Forbes, Robert Weir, John Lyell, James Dickson, —— Sandilands, William Borthwick, —— Macdowgal, James Hepburn, Robert Hannan, John Monro, Robert Lumsden, William Herring, Sir James Cunningham, William Spence, John Ennis, Poytaghee Forbes, John Forbes of Tulloch, George Forbes, Alexander Hay, David Leslie [Lord Newark].’

Sep.

1631.

The persecution of the Catholics had, in 1629, reached a pitch of keenness which it was not possible to maintain. The king occasionally ventured to interfere with special letters in favour of certain Romanists of rank, his personal friends, allowing them to stay in the country on hope of conversion, or else permitting them a temporary return from exile to see after their private affairs. The Privy Council itself could not always keep up the proper degree of severity. Being partly a lay-body, it would now and then take a mild view of a case, though in a hesitating manner.

Sir John Ogilvy of Craig, after enduring imprisonment for a time in Edinburgh Castle, was allowed to live in Edinburgh and in St Andrews under a modified restraint. Finally, he was permitted to go home to his dwelling-house of Craig, ‘upon promise of ane sober and modest behaviour without scandal or offence to the kirk.’ ‘Nevertheless,’ as the Council proceeds to remark, ‘Sir John, since his going home, has behaved himself very scandalously, daily conversing with excommunicat persons, privately resetting seminary and mass priests, and restraining his bairns and servants from coming to the kirk, to the heigh offence of God and disgrace of his majesty’s government.’ For this reason, he was ordered (September 22) to go into ward in St Andrews, ‘until he be freed and relaxed by the Lords.’

1631.

A supplication presented by Sir John, some weeks later, to the Council, complained of his having been condemned without a hearing, and while he was ‘innocent of these imputations.’ He went on to say that he had nevertheless done his best to yield obedience to their order. He ‘took journey from his awn house [in Forfarshire] toward St Andrews, being heavily diseased by reason of a dizziness in his head, so that he was not able to travel on horseback for fear of falling from his horse, and therefore was compelled, although with great pain and travel, to make journey upon his foot, being led all the way with two men. At last he atteined with great trouble to the town of Dundee,’ where, however, sickness stopped him. He petitioned, for the sake of his health, to be allowed to return to Craig, ‘where, if he die, he may have the presence and comfort of his wife and children.’ The Lords yielded to this supplication, on condition of his giving a bond that ‘he sall cause his eldest son and the remanent of his children and domestics, resort to the kirk every Sabbath when possibly they may; that he sall not travel on the Sabbath from his own house, or profane the same by any slanderous behaviour in his own person, nor in any that is in his power; that he sall remain in his awn house and twa mile about the same; and that he sall not reset priests, nor be found reasoning against the religion presently professed.’

On the 17th of November 1631, the Privy Council, considering that the Earl of Nithsdale is ‘vehemently suspected in his religion, and that the remaining of Lord Maxwell, his son, in his company, may prove very dangerous to the youth, and now in his tender years infect and poison him with opinions wherefra it will be difficult thereafter to reclaim him,’ ordered his lordship to ‘exhibit’ his son, that ‘direction may be given for his breeding and education in the true religion.’—P. C. R. When we remember that the Earl of Nithsdale was the most powerful man in the southern part of the kingdom, and had so lately as 1625 acted as the royal commissioner to parliament, and since conducted a large auxiliary force for the service of the king’s brother-in-law in Germany, the character of this interference with his domestic arrangements becomes the more noticeable.

Patrick Con of Achry, having early yielded to the orders of Council, and retired from the country, was nevertheless excommunicated by the presbytery of Aberdeen; in consequence of which, those left in charge of his estate appropriated it and threw him into destitution. He presented a petition to the king for permission to return for a time, and to have the benefit of a temporary relaxation of the pains of excommunication, in order that he might recover his property; and this permission, extending to a twelvemonth, was granted, on condition ‘that, during the said space, he give no scandal or just offence to the kirk nor government.’ We shall presently see something more of Patrick.

In February 1632, Gordon of Craig petitioned the king for what the Council had some time before refused; and his majesty, ‘conceiving his demand to be very reasonable, and (in respect of his age and infirmity of body) to require our princely commiseration,’ enjoined the Council either to allow him to join his son abroad or live in such part of Scotland as he himself chose. The Lords found it ‘no ways fitting’ that Gordon should be allowed to leave the country, but gave him a licence to take his choice of a place of residence within the country.

1631.

At length the interferences of the king in behalf of the proscribed papists produced in his Scottish councillors a degree of disapprobation which could no longer be repressed. A diocesan assembly met at Aberdeen, and elected Mr William Gould as a commissioner to proceed to lay their views before the Privy Council (July 1632). It was represented by this venerable person, that, when the exiled papists were allowed to return temporarily, all of their profession were ‘thereby encouraged, upon expectation of finding the like liberty, to return to the country when they sall be reduced to the same extremity.’ Some who had been brought to the point of yielding obedience, were now become once more ‘so obstinate that they will abide the last dint of excommunication.’ The returned exiles had ‘come not alone;’ but through their means, priests were introduced in great numbers, and ‘going about the houses of simple ones, perverts them.’ The hands and hearts of pastors were much discouraged when they found that, after their great trouble with the process of excommunication, and in urging the Council to the execution of the laws, all ended in a licence to return from banishment, ‘in ane increase of obstinacy.’ The petition concluded with a wish that the Council would lay their grievances before the king, with a view to inducing him to be more strict with the papists. The Council complied with this request, and at the same time (July 12, 1632) caused two of the returned exiles, Dr William Leslie and Mr Robert Irving, to be brought before them to exhibit their licences—a movement, however, which was not attended with any remarkable result.

Nov. 17.

The Privy Council heard of the apprehension of one Andrew Anderson, ‘are busy and trafficking papist,’ believed to be engaged at and about Dumfries in arranging for the conducting of gentlemen’s sons beyond sea, that they might be educated in the popish religion. Immediately on his apprehension, he had been committed to the Pledge-chamber in Dumfries. The Lords sent for him, that he might be subjected to examination in Edinburgh; but before any progress had been made in his case, he died in the Tolbooth. The Council could only issue an order to the provost and bailies to inquire into the ‘form, manner, and cause of his death.’—P. C. R.

1631.

Serious people in Scotland were at this time much scandalised by reports from England, regarding clergymen who openly preached Arminianism, and others who wrote in favour of a lax observance of the Sabbath. At home, the bishops and other leaders of the church were manifestly departing from the old Scottish observances. ‘The house of one Dickson in the Potterrow, in the suburbs of Edinburgh, was, to some of them, their place of recreation on Sabbath afternoons. It was remarked of Spottiswoode, and some other of the bishops, that they sojourned [travelled] more on that than on other days. And Mr Thomas Foster, minister at Melrose, having but one hutt of corn in his barn-yard, would needs shew his Christian liberty, by causing his servants cast it in upon that holy day. Thus fast were we hastening to destruction.’[44]

1632.

Witches being so numerous at this time, it was not surprising that ‘John Balfour in Corshouse’ took upon him the profession of a discoverer of witches, ‘by remarking the devil’s mark upon some part of their persons, and thristing of preens in the same.’ ‘Upon the presumption of this knowledge,’ say the Privy Council, he ‘goes athort the country abusing simple and ignorant people for his private gain and commoditie.’ Measures were taken for looking into John’s pretensions to such knowledge, ‘and how and by what means he has the same.’—P. C. R.

1633. Feb. 7.

‘There began a great storm of snow, with horrible high winds, whilk were noted to be universal through all Scotland.... The like had never been seen in these parts, for it would overturn countrymen’s houses to the ground, and some persons suddenly smo’ered within, without relief. It also threw down the stately crown bigged of curious ashler wark, off the steeple of the King’s College of Old Aberdeen. This outrageous storm stopped the ordinary course of ebbing and flowing on sundry waters, by the space of twenty-four hours, such as the waters of Leith, Dundee, Montrose, and other ports—whilk signified great troubles to be in Scotland, as after ye sall hear how truly came to pass.’—Spal.

An irregular tide on the east coast of Scotland is no unexampled phenomenon, and could easily be explained; but it would probably defy a Humboldt or a Whewell to explain another wonder which a grave church historian of the eighteenth century—a ‘writer’ in Edinburgh, too—sets down as occurring at the same time. ‘What was yet more marvellous,’ says he, ‘the moon, though in her first quarter, set not, but was seen from the Wednesday to the Thursday at even.’[45]

1633.

George Nicol, the son of a tailor in Edinburgh, and who had been secretary or clerk to Sir Archibald Acheson, under an unlucky zeal for the public good, resolved to expose some malpractices of the Scottish rulers which had fallen under his attention, or which he believed to exist. Being in London, he presented to the king some information against the Chancellor, the Earls of Morton and Stratherne, the Lord Traquair, the Lord Advocate, &c., for mismanagement of the treasury. These officers were summoned to London to meet the charges brought against them, when it soon appeared that Nicol had advanced what he could not prove.

Mar. 5.

He was returned to Scotland under the power of the men whom he had accused, and was adjudged by the Privy Council guilty of leasing-making, and to stand at the entry of the session-house for an hour, and two hours at the Cross, with a paper on his head bearing, ‘Here stands Mr George Nicol, who is tried, found, and declared to be a false calumnious liar,’ and thereafter to receive six stripes on his naked back by the hand of the hangman, and then to be led back to the Tolbooth with his shoulders still exposed.[46]

This prototype of Scottish political reformers met ‘with much compassion from the promiscuous beholders, who generally believed he suffered wrongfully.’ He was afterwards deported to Flanders.

Colin Campbell, Laird of Glenurchy, who had succeeded his father Duncan in 1631, seems to have outrivalled him in his taste for elegant things. In the quaint memoir of his family written about this time, it is stated: ‘The said Sir Colin bestowit and gave to ane German painter, whom he entertainit in his house aucht month, and that for painting of thretty brods of the kings of Scotland, and of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, and twa of their majesties’ queens of guid memory, and of the said Sir Colin his awn and his predecessors’ portraits, whilk portraits are set up in the hall and chalmer of dais of the house of Balloch, the soum of ane thousand pounds.’[47]

He also patronised the portrait-painter, George Jameson, now in the zenith of his fame, and settled in Edinburgh. From a letter written by this distinguished person to Sir Colin, June 23, 1635, it appears that he charged for his portraits twenty merks each, he furnishing ‘claith and colours.’ The laird had given an order for pictures of a considerable number of his friends, and Jameson promised, if he began in July, to have sixteen ready in September.[48]

1633.

His labours are thus spoken of in the family chronicle: ‘Sir Colin gave unto George Jameson, painter in Edinburgh, for King Robert and King David Bruces, kings of Scotland, and Charles I., king of Great Britain, and his majesty’s queen, and for nine more of the queens of Scotland their portraits, whilk are set up in the hall of Balloch, the soum of twa hundred threescore pounds.’... ‘For the knight of Lochow’s lady, and the first Countess of Argyle, and six of the ladies of Glenurchy their portraits, and Sir Colin his awn portrait, whilk are set up in the chalmer of dais of Balloch, [he gave] ane hundred fourscore pounds.’[49] If we are to presume that Scots money is meant in all these instances, it would appear that this eminent artist was content to execute a bust portrait at a pound sterling!

June 13.

The king arrived in Edinburgh, accompanied by the Duke of Lennox, the Marquis of Hamilton, and divers other Scotch and English lords and gentlemen, to the number of about five hundred. His furniture and plate were carried about with him in princely form. He, riding on horseback, was received at the West Port in a theatrical manner, after the fashion of the allegorical entertainments with which Ben Jonson has made us familiar. There was a kind of theatre under an arch, where a nymph representing Edinburgh appeared on a mountain, which was so arranged as to move at the approach of majesty. The nymph was attired in a sea-green velvet mantle, with sleeves and under-robe of blue tissue, and blue buskins on her feet: about her neck she wore a chain of diamonds; her head-dress represented a castle with turrets, and her locks dangled about her shoulders.

A speech of welcome was delivered by this fair lady, together with the keys of the city. Meanwhile, the provost, Alexander Clark, and the bailies, in furred red robes, with about threescore councillors and others, in black velvet gowns, had taken up a position on a wooden stand at the other side of the gate. Thence the provost addressed the king in a brief speech, presenting him at the same time with a gold basin worth five thousand merks, into which were shaken out of an embroidered purse a thousand golden double angels, as a token of the town’s love and service. ‘The king looked gladly upon the speech and gift both; but the Marquis of Hamilton, master of his majesty’s horse, hard beside, meddled with the gift, as due to him by virtue of his office.’

1633.

The provost then mounted his own horse, which was sumptuously attired, and, followed by the councillors and others on foot attended his majesty along the Grassmarket. Here appeared ‘a brave company of town’s soldiers all clad in white satin doublets black velvet breeches, and silk stockings, with hats, feathers, scarfs, bands, and the rest correspondent. These gallants had dainty muskets, pikes, and gilded partisans, and such like,’ and attended his majesty as a guard. At the gate in the middle of the West Bow, there was another theatre, presenting a Highland scene, labelled with the word Grampius, and from which a female, representing the genius of Caledonia, welcomed his majesty in verse. Coming to the west end of the Tolbooth, he there found an arch across the narrowed street, surmounted by a crown; Mars, as the protecting deity of the country, on one side, and Minerva on the other. Here, on the withdrawal of a curtain, Mercury appeared, as just arrived from the Elysian fields with his majesty’s deceased progenitors. This was a part of the spectacle really interesting to the king, for the portraits struck his tasteful eye as well executed; and so they were, being the work of George Jameson of Aberdeen.[50] Here there was a fourth speech.

‘At the Mercat Cross, he had a fifth speech, where his majesty’s health was drunk by Bacchus on the Cross, and the haill stroups [spouts] thereof running over with wine in abundance. At the Tron, Parnassus hill was erected curiously, all green with birks, where nine pretty boys, representing the nine nymphs or muses, was nymph-like clad [in varying taffetas, cloth of silver, and purple].’ Amidst the trees, appeared Endymion, like a shepherd, in a long coat of crimson velvet, with gilt leather buskins, telling the king, in William Drummond’s verse, that he had been despatched by Cynthia to celebrate the day.

‘Roused from the Latmian cave, where many years

That empress of the lowest of the spheres,

Who cheers the night, and kept me hid, apart

From mortal wights, to case her love-sick heart;

As young as when she did me first enclose,

As fresh in beauty as the Maying rose,

Endymion, that whilom kept my flocks

Upon Ionia’s flowery hills and rocks,

And sweet lays warbling to my Cynthia’s beams,

O’ersang the swannets of Meander’s streams,’ &c.

1633.

At the Nether Bow, where he made his exit from the city, another speech was addressed to him. ‘Whilk haill orations his majesty, with great pleasure and delight, sitting on horseback, as his company did, heard pleasantly; syne rode down the Canongate to his own palace of Holyroodhouse, where he stayed that night. The provost with the rest returned home.’—Spal.[51]

Next day (Sunday) the king received Cornelius Smoski, the Polish ambassador, in great state, in his privy chamber at Holyrood; and on the ensuing day, the Prince Shemei and his brother, two proper gentlemen, sons of the Duke de Arscotte, had audience in the same place. The ambassador was entertained, while in Scotland, ‘upon his majesty’s charges.’—Bal.

On the same day, the king made a procession in his coach to the Castle, where he was magnificently banqueted, ‘served with his awn official’s and with his awn provision, vessels, and plate.’ Thence he returned next day, conducted by his nobility in state, in his royal robes, to the Abbey Kirk of Holyrood, and there was solemnly crowned by the Bishop of Brechin. ‘It is markit that there was are four-nuikit table in manner of ane altar, having standing thereon twa books called blind books, with twa chandlers, and twa wax-candles, whilks were unlichtit, and are basin wherein there was nothing. At the back of this altar there was ane rich tapestry, wherein the crucifix was curiously wrought; and as thir bishops who was in service passed by this crucifix, they were seen to bow their knee and beck, which with their habit was noted, and bred grit fear of inbringing of popery.’—Spal.

1633.

On the 20th, the Estates sat down, after one of those formal processions so often alluded to in Scottish history as the Riding of the Parliament. Such had been the custom from an early period; but latterly the riding was an affair of greatly increased splendour, and never had it been so grand as on this occasion. The procession started at the Abbey Close, or court in front of the palace, and extended along the principal street of the city to the Tolbooth, where the parliament was to be held. First went the commissioners for burghs, ‘ilk ane in their awn places, weel clad in cloaks, having on their horses black velvet footmantles.’ Then in order went the commissioners for barons or minor gentry, the lords of spirituality, and the bishops, the latter being all present but the Bishop of Aberdeen, who lay sick at home. The temporal lords, the viscounts, and earls followed in order of rank and date, the Earl of Buchan carrying the sword, and Rothes the sceptre; after whom came the Marquis of Douglas (lately Earl of Angus) bearing the crown, and with the Duke of Hamilton on his right hand, and the Marquis of Hamilton on his left. All the nobles rode in scarlet furred robes, with footmantles. ‘Then cam his majesty riding upon ane gallant chestnut-coloured horse having in his head ane fair bunch of feathers, with ane foot-mantle of purpour velvet. His majesty made choice to ride in King James IV.’s robe-royal, whilk was of purpour velvet, richly furrit and lacit with gold, hanging over his horse-tail ane great deal,’ and borne by five grooms in a line. The king ‘had upon his head ane hat and ane rod in his hand. The lion heralds, pursuivants, macers, and trumpeters followed his majesty in silence.’ At the Nether Bow, where he entered the bounds of the city, the king was saluted by the provost, who attended him closely the rest of the way. Within the city there was a space of the street staked off, sanded, and lined with a guard of armed citizens. At a style or passage in the Luckenbooths, the king lighted, and was conducted by the Lord High Constable, the Earl of Errol, to ‘the outer door of the Heich Tolbooth,’ where ‘the Earl Marischal, as Marischal of Scotland, with all humility received him, and convoyed him to his tribunal.’ On the second day of the parliament, the king went in his coach, and after the business was ended, walked back to the palace, moving so swiftly as to throw his foot-guard into a perspiration, ‘being ane able footman as was within, the town.’—Spal. The whole reception of King Charles was magnificent to a degree unprecedented. The people viewed their sovereign as a stranger of great distinction, and were more awed than won by his grandeur, while under all lurked the dread of that constant tampering with the national church and worship which for some years had been so conspicuous.

June 23.

1633.

(Sunday) ‘the king came to St Giles’s Church to hear sermon, and after he was set down in his awn place, the ordinary reader being [engaged in] reading the word and singing psalms, before sermon, Mr John Maxwell, minister of Edinburgh, came down from the king’s loft, caused the reader remove from his place, and set down there two English chaplains, clad with surplices, who with the help of other chaplains and bishops there present, acted their English service. This being ended, in came Mr John Guthrie, Bishop of Moray, clad also with a surplice, went up to the pulpit, and taught a sermon. At thir things many marvelled.

‘Sermon being ended, the king and all his nobles goes into the banqueting-house, prepared by the town of Edinburgh, that they might feast him. The banqueting-house was so near the kirk, and so great noise in it of men, musical instruments, trumpets, playing, singing, also shooting of cannon, that no service was had in the afternoon, either in the greater or lesser kirk of St Giles.’—Row.

Another contemporary says: ‘The people of Edinburgh, seeing the bishop teach in his rochet, whilk was never seen in St Giles’s Kirk sin’ the Reformation, and by him who sometime was are of their awn town’s puritan ministers, were grievit, thinking the same smellit of popery.’ Here lay the canker of this flowery scene. Could any one have foretold that, in the course of a series of circumstances flowing from these matters of dress and ceremonial, the youthful king now present in such grandeur would perish on a scaffold; that Bishop Guthrie would, for what he did this very day, be deposed and excommunicated; and that Maxwell, who was now on the eve of being made a bishop, would be deposed and frightened out of his country, be half cut to pieces in a massacre in Ireland, and finally die of grief on account of his sovereign’s irretrievable misfortunes—how strange it would have appeared!

June 24.

This day, being St John’s Day, the king went in state to the Chapel Royal, Holyroodhouse, and there, after a solemn offertory, touched about a hundred persons for the king’s evil, ‘putting about every one of their necks a piece of gold, coined for the purpose, hung at a white silk riband.’—Bal.

On the same day, the city gave a banquet to the English nobility, ‘with music and much merriment. After dinner, the provost, bailies, and councillors, ilk are in others’ hands, with bare heads, cam dancing down the High Street with all sort of music, trumpeters, and drums. The nobles went to the king, and told him their entertainment, joy, and gladness, whereat the king was weel pleasit.’—Spal.

July 8.

1633.

After a sporting tour by Linlithgow, Dunfermline, and Falkland, ‘his majesty came to Perth, and was weel receivit with tenscore of men for guard, all in white doublets and red breeks, with partisans. Mr William Bell delivered him a speech.... There was are sword-dance dancit to his majesty the morn after his coming, upon an island made of timmer on the water of Tay, and certain verses spoken to his majesty by ane boy, representing the person of the river Tay, and some conference in his majesty’s praise betwixt Tay and another representing Perth, made by Andrew Wilson, bailie.’—Chron. Perth.

The king on this occasion lodged in the house which had belonged to the late Earl of Gowrie, and where his father had had a memorable adventure in 1600. The arrangement for the sword-dance is more particularly described in the record of the corporation of glovers. His majesty ‘went down to the garden, and being set upon the wall next the water of Tay, whereupon was ane fleeting stage of timber clad about with birks, upon the whilk thirteen of this our calling of glovers, with green caps, silver strings, red ribbons, white shoes, and bells about their legs, shewing rapiers in their hands, and all other abulyiement, dancit our sword-dance, with mony difficile knots, five being under and five above, upon their shoulders, three of them dancing through their feet and about them, drinking wine and breaking glasses. Whilk, God be praisit, was actit and done without hurt or skaith till any. Whilk drew us till great charges and expenses, amounting to the sum of 350 merks.’[52]

We have no actual account of Highlanders present on this occasion; but it fully appears that Charles, ten days before, caused a letter to be sent to the Laird of Glenurchy, desiring that there might be a ‘show and muster’ of that class of his subjects at Perth, ‘in their country habit and best order.’ The laird was requested to ‘single out and convene a number of [his] friends, followers, and dependers, men personable for stature, and in their best array and equipage, with trews, bows, dorlochs [swords], and others their ordinary weapons and furniture, and to send them to the burgh of Perth,’ for the king’s contentment.[53]

If these mountaineers made their appearance as requested, there must have been precisely the same mixture of Highland and more civilised costumes at Perth on this occasion, as was presented in Edinburgh at the visit of George IV. in 1822.

July 10.

1633.

On his return to Edinburgh, the king crossed the Firth of Forth, in fair weather; nevertheless, a boat perished in his sight, containing thirty-five of his domestics, all of whom excepting two were drowned.[54] ‘His majesty’s silver plate and household stuff perished with the rest; a pitiful sight, no doubt, to the king and the haill beholders ... betokening great troubles to fall betwixt the king and his subjects, as after does appear.’—Spal.

July 12.

The aged Marquis of Huntly desired to take advantage of the king’s presence in Scotland to interest him in the affair of Frendraught; but in his journey from the north to Edinburgh he fell sick at Candechyll, a country-house he had on Dee-side, and could go no further. ‘He sent his lady with the Lady Aboyne [his daughter-in-law] to complain unto his majesty anent the fire of Frendraught; who took their own time as commodiously as they could, and, accompanied with some other ladies in mourning weed, pitifully told the king of the murder ... humbly craving at his hands justice. The king with great patience heard this complaint, whilk he bewailed, comforted the ladies the best way he could, and promised justice.’ They could get no more for the present, but humbly took their leave at the king, and returned to their lodgings.—Spal.

This mourning procession for justice was in imitation of similar incidents which took place while James lived in Holyrood. The two ladies were not altogether unsuccessful, as they did not return from Edinburgh till they had urged on the trial of John Meldrum, and seen him executed. He ‘died but any certain or real confession, as was said, anent this doleful fire.’—Spal.

The king left Edinburgh on the 13th of July, on his journey to London. ‘It is said his majesty commendit our Scottish enterteinment and brave behaviour, albeit some lords grudgit with him.’—Spal.

July 30.

Licence was given to one Edward Graham to have the keeping of a camel belonging to the king, and to take the animal throughout the kingdom that it might be shewn to the people, ‘by tuck of drum or sound of trumpet, from time to time, without trouble or let,’ he and his servants engaging to behave themselves modestly, and not exhibit the camel on the Sabbath-day.—P. C. R.

Aug. 19.

1633

The moral wildness which still clung to the Highlands was evinced by a rude incident which happened in the course of a deer-stalking adventure of Alexander Gordon of Dunkintie and his eldest son. Having gone into the savage wilderness at the head of Strathaven, the two gentlemen suddenly lighted upon a party of natives, believed to be of the Clan Chattan, who were sleeping upon the hillside. Suspecting these men to be rogues, the two gentlemen shot at them, and wounded one. The men then set upon Gordon and his son, and killed both, but not before two more of their party had fallen. The servants of the Gordons then retreated to give an alarm.

When Dunkintie’s second son soon after came to the spot with a few friends, he found his father’s and brother’s bodies lying on the ground, beside one of the slain Highlanders, while the other two slain men were very cunningly buried in one hole. The young man piously disposed the bodies of his father and brother in two chests, to be taken to Elgin for interment. Then cutting off the head of one of the Highlanders, he caused it to be erected on a pointed stick, and carried before the coffins on their way to the grave. ‘Upon the 22d day of August, with great lamentation, they were buried within the Marquis’s Aisle, and immediately thereafter this limmer’s head was set up on ane iron stob, upon the end of the Tolbooth of Elgin, in example of others to do the like.’

The Marquis of Huntly took the death of these his near relatives greatly to heart, and used his utmost influence to detect the offenders and bring them to justice, but in vain: ‘some thought this strange that the great marquis should see his blood destroyed without trial or reparation.’—Spal.

Nov.

1633.

The parish of Duddingstone, near Edinburgh, had for its pastor Mr Robert Monteath, who came to have a strange history. Of Arminian tendencies, and perhaps further infected with Romanism from his parishioner the Marchioness of Abercorn, he incurred the enmity of the Calvinists in consequence of pasquinading them. Such a walk as his would have required great circumspection; he, on the contrary, fell under the serious blame of adultery with the wife of another parishioner, Sir James Hamilton of Priestfield. The unfortunate minister fled to France, there joined the Catholic church, and attached himself to the service, first of M. de la Porte, Grand Prior of France, and afterwards of the famous Cardinal du Retz, who, forming a high opinion of his talents, bestowed on him a canonry in Notre Dame. He wrote Histoire des Troubles de la Grande Brétagne depuis l’an 1633 jusques 1649 (Paris, fol. 1661), of which an English translation appeared in 1735, bearing the words ‘by Robert Monteth of Salmonet.’ It is told of him that, on arriving in France, being asked of what family he was, and finding that ‘blood’ was essential to his prospering there, he described himself as one of the Monteaths of Salmonet—a word that sounded well, while the fact was that his father was a mere fisherman (user of a salmon-net) on the Forth at Stirling; but another account denies this story, and makes Salmonet a real house of that age, and one in tolerable esteem, being a branch of the Monteaths of Kerse.

William Coke and Alison Dick were burnt for witchcraft on the sands of Kirkcaldy. An account, which has been preserved in the session records of the parish, of the expenses incurred on the occasion, reveals some parts of the process of witch-prosecution, including the lamentable fact of the concern borne in such matters by the ministers of religion. There is first paid, for the kirk’s part, £17, 10s., composed as follows: Mr John Miller, when he went to Preston for a man to try them, £2, 7s.; to the man of Culross, when he went away the first time [probably a pricker], 12s.; for coals for the witches, £1, 4s.; in purchasing the commission, £9, 3s.; for one to go to Finmouth for the laird to sit upon their assize as judge, 6s.; for harden to be jumps to them, £3, 10s.; for making of them, 8s. Then, of the town’s part, for ten loads of coal to burn them, 5 merks, £3, 6s. 8d.; for a tar-barrel, 14s.; for tows, 6s.; to him that brought the executioner, £2, 18s.; to the executioner for his pains, £8, 14s.; for his expenses here, 16s. 4d.; for one to go to Finmouth for the laird, 6s.; in all, £17, 1s. Sum of the expense, £34, 11s. Scots.

1634. Mar. 25.

James Smith, ‘servitor to the Earl of Winton,’ having to build some houses in the village of Seaton, found that he could not obtain the proper timber required without sending for it to Norway. It occurred to him that the wood might most conveniently be paid for by sending thirty-six bolls of wheat of his own growth, the one article to be exchanged against the other. This was a very rational idea; but how to carry it out? In those days, exportation, as already explained, was a thing generally unpopular, as being supposed to cause scarcity at home; and the sending out of corn was forbidden by particular laws. It affords a curious idea of the difficulties which might then attend the simplest movements in life, through the efficacy of erroneous doctrines in political economy, that James Smith had to petition the government before he could get the Norwegian timber for those houses about to be built at Seaton. By favour probably of the Earl of Winton, who sat in the Council, he was permitted to export the thirty-six bolls of wheat to ‘Birren [Bergen] in Norway.’—P. C. R.

Mar.

Thomas Menzies, burgess of Aberdeen, who had been driven into exile on account of popery some years before, now petitioned the king for leave to return for a few months, to dispose of his estate and recover some money owing to him, in order ‘that he may abandon the kingdom, without staying any longer to give offence to the present professed religion.’ The king, seeing that Thomas had comported himself modestly during his exile, was pleased to recommend the case to his Scottish Council, by whom the necessary permission and protection were granted.—P. C. R.

June 3.

A fulmination took place in the Privy Council concerning the south-country papists. They gave final decision in the case of Robert Rig, wright at the Brig-end of Dumfries, who had been more than once before the presbytery of that district for marrying Elspeth Maxwell, ‘ane excommunicat papist.’ Robert, on being questioned, owned that ‘he was married by a popish priest, upon the 17th of November last, being Sunday, at night, with candle-light, above the bridge of Cluden, in the fields, and that four were present at the marriage, beside the priest, whereof some were men and some were women, whom he knew not, because they had their faces covered.’ Mr Thomas Ramsay, minister of Dumfries, was present to support the proceedings of the presbytery in the case. Robert himself was full of contrition, and humbly craved pardon for his offence. The lords, having fully considered everything, found that ‘Robert Rig has violat and contravened the laws of this kingdom, in marrying ane excommunicat woman, by a priest who has no power to exerce any function within this kingdom,’ and they sentenced him to be imprisoned during their pleasure in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh; ‘no person from the said Elspeth Maxwell, his wife, to have access to him by word or write.’

1634.

The Council, soon after, had in hands the case of Elspeth herself, who for some time had been expiating her candle-light nuptials by imprisonment in Dumfries jail. A group of people, fourteen of them women, mostly wives of tradesmen in Dumfries, were also now or had lately been, prisoners in the same jail, ‘for hearing of mass and being present thereat sundry times within thir twelvemonths bygane, as their confessions bears.’ The Council ordered that all these people should be ‘exhibit’ before them, on a certain day, ‘to the intent such order may be ta’en with them as may give terror to others to commit the like.’

In obedience to the charge of the Council, Mr Thomas Ramsay, minister of Dumfries, and John Williamson, one of the bailies, appeared on the 3d of July, and exhibited nearly the whole of these delinquents. Eight ‘declared that they were heartily sorrowful for the scandal they had given to the kirk by hearing of mass, and craved pardon for the same;’ adding a faithful promise ‘in all time coming to obey the laws, and for that effect to resort to the kirk, hear preachings and to communicate, and that they should not hear mass nor reset Jesuits.’ These were commanded to remain in their lodgings in Edinburgh till further orders. Seven, wholly women, ‘refused to conform to the religion presently professed within the kingdom; in respect whereof, the Lords ordains them to be committed to ward within the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, therein to remain upon their awn expenses till they be freed and relieved by the said Lords.’ Five days after, the whole were committed to the hands of Patrick, Archbishop of Glasgow, to be dealt with as he might think fit.’—P. C. R.

June 11.

Walter, first Earl of Buccleuch, who had died in London towards the close of the preceding year, was buried in the magnificent manner then customary. His body, having been embalmed, was sent down to Scotland ‘in one John Simpson’s ship of Kirkcaldy;’ but the ship, meeting a storm, was driven to the coast of Norway, and only with great difficulty, and after a long delay, reached Leith. After resting twenty days in the church there, the corpse ‘were thence, by his honourable friends, transported to his awn house of Branxholm, where they remained till the 11th of June,’ when the funeral was at length solemnly effected at Hawick.

1634.

A striking sight it must have been, that long heraldic procession which went before the body of the deceased noble, along the banks of the Teviot, on that bright June day. First were forty-six saulies in black gowns and hoods, with black staves in their hands, headed by one called a conductor, who was attended by an old man in a mourning-gown; a trumpeter in the Buccleuch livery following, and sounding his trumpet. Next came Robert Scott of Howshaw, fully armed, riding on a fair horse, and carrying on the point of a lance a little banner of the defunct’s colours, azure and or. Then a horse in black, led by a lackey in mourning, a horse with a crimson velvet foot-mantle, and ‘three trumpets in mourning on foot, sounding sadly.’ Then, the great gumpheon of black taffeta carried on a lance, the deceased’s spurs carried by Walter Scott of Lauchope, his sword borne by Andrew Scott of Broadmeadows, his gauntlets by Francis Scott of Castleside, and his coat of honour by Mr Lawrence Scott.

The next great section of the procession was a purely heraldic display. Eight gentlemen of the Clan Scott bore each the coat of arms of one of the various paternal and maternal ancestors of the defunct. Other gentlemen of the name—Scott of Harden, Scott of Scotstarvet, &c.—carried the great pencil, the deceased’s standard, his coronet, and his ‘arms in metal and colour.’ Near whom were three more trumpets, and three pursuivants, all in mourning. ‘Last of all cam the corps, carried under a fair pall of black velvet, decked with arms, larmes [tears], and cipress of sattin, knopt with gold, and on the coffin the defunct’s helmet and coronet, overlaid with cipress, to shew that he was a soldier. And so in this order, with the conduct of many honourable friends, marched they from Branxholm to Hawick Church, where, after the funeral-sermon ended, the corps were interred amongst his ancestors.’[55]

June 14.

An arrangement was made by royal authority for putting the sale of tobacco under some restriction, so as to insure that only a good and wholesome article should be presented to the public. Sir James Leslie, knight, and Thomas Dalmahoy, servant to the Marquis of Hamilton, were to sell licences to retailers, and account to the royal revenue for the proceeds, as might be arranged between the parties. Thus it was hoped that the great abuses from ‘the ungoverned sale and immoderate use of tobacco’ might be abated.—P. C. R. Numberless entries in the Record shew that great difficulty was experienced in carrying out this arrangement.

June 19.

1634.

The Privy Council had under its consideration a supplication from the Bishops of Orkney and Caithness, setting forth the miserable condition to which those districts were like to be reduced by famine. Owing to tempestuous weather, the corns of the bypast year had not filled, or proved answerable to the people’s expectation, ‘the boll of aits in many parts not giving ane peck of meal.’ In the consequent deficiency of seed, ‘the thrid rig lyeth unsown, and in many parts the half is not sown.’ Even now, from the scarcity of victual, ‘multitudes die in the open fields, and there is none to bury them, but where the minister goeth furth with his man to bury them where they are found. The ground,’ it was said, ‘yields them no corns, and the sea affords no fishes unto them as it wont to do. The picture of Death is seen in the faces of many. Some devour the sea-ware, some eat dogs, some steal fowls. Of nine in a family, seven at once died, the husband and wife expiring at one time. Many are reduced to that extremity that they are forced to steal, and thereafter are execut, and some have desperately run in the sea and drowned themselves. So great is the famine, that the people of mean estate have nothing, and those of greater rank nothing that they can spare.’

The lords recommended the case of these poor people to the charity of their countrymen generally.—P. C. R. Supplies of food were soon after sent, but not in time or quantity to save a deplorable mortality.

July.

A project was submitted to the government by Colonel Robert Monro, for erecting in Scotland an hospital for the reception of disabled Scottish soldiers. It received some encouragement, and a general contribution was authorised under the colonel’s care; but it does not appear that the scheme was ever in any degree realised.—P. C. R.

‘About this time, a pot [eddy-pool] of the water of Brechin, called South Esk, became suddenly dry, and for a short space continued so, but bolts up again, and turns to its own course; which was thought to be an ominous token for Scotland, as it so fell out.’

1634.

A sudden desiccation or stoppage of the flow of rivers, is a phenomenon not unknown to modern science. The rivers Teviot, Clyde, and Nith, were all of them reduced, on the 27th of November 1838, to such a smallness that the mills everywhere ceased to work. The small feeding-streams were observed on this occasion to be completely dried up. The phenomenon was variously attributed to an earthquake (though none was felt), to a high wind obstructing the current, and to a frost. Mr David Milne made some careful inquiries into the subject, and ascertained that on the previous evening the thermometer had suddenly sunk to 26 degrees all over the south of Scotland, producing a very low temperature. He considered the depletion to be caused by the frost, arresting the small rills in the upper parts of the rivers, and yet not sufficient to prevent the water further down from flowing away.[56]

Tired of the slow march of legal vengeance, and enraged that only John Meldrum could be brought to death for the Frendraught tragedy, the Gordons commenced this year to execute what they called justice with their own hand. The plan they followed was to take advantage of the propensity of the neighbouring Highland clans to despoil the country of Moray. The broken men of the Clan Gregor, the Clan Cameron under its chief Allan M‘Ian Dhui, the Macdonalds of Glengarry and Clanranald, the Clan Lachlan, were all ready instruments to their hands; and bands of them, to the amount of several hundreds, were easily mustered. ‘They came to the house of Chalmers of Ormiston, bound himself and his wife hand and foot, spoiled his house, and reft and away took ane thousand pounds or thereby.... They in like manner spoiled and herried the house of Andrew Geddes in Gairmouth.... They came to the house of John Mair in Braemurray, and robbed and spoiled the said John of his goods, and gave Mr James Cumming (being in the house for the time) eleven wounds with his own durk.... They violently lifted and took away ane hership of fifty head of oxen off the mount of Dallas.... They stole three mares from Thomas Gilyean in Halton, together with ane black horse, and ... they violently drove away eleven horse and mares belonging to John Hay in Orton; ... by the whilk and many more grievous oppressions and depredations, committed upon his majesty’s good subjects in the in-country of Moray by thir broken limmers and sorners, who go about the country in great troops and companies, with unlawful weapons, the haill inhabitants in these bounds are in continual fear of their lives and spoiling of their goods, and dare not keep their horse or cattle in the country.’

Sep. 25.

1634.

A gentleman having come from Moray to Edinburgh, on purpose to give information of these outrages, the Privy Council granted a commission to fifteen men of name in the country, not one of them a Gordon, to raise armed forces for the purpose of pursuing the ‘limmers’ and bringing them to justice.

Nov. 13.

It soon after appears, from the proceedings of the Privy Council, that the real authors of these disorders were believed to be the Marquis of Huntly and a certain number of men of his house, lairds respectively of Buckie, Carnbarrow, Tulloch, Lesmore, Letterfour, Ardlogie, Innermarky, Park, Cluny, &c.; together with the Earl of Athole, Lord Lovat, Innes of Balveny, the Lady Rothiemay, and a few other persons. And the grand aim of the outbreak had developed itself in an attack upon the lands of Frendraught. These lands had been visited with fire and sword, and swept of all cattle and other ‘geir’ that could be carried away, The act of Council speaks also of the laird’s servants killed and maimed, his tenants and domestics frightened away from him, and himself at the hazard of his life stealing away under night to claim the protection of the Council in Edinburgh. The disorders of the country, it further says, are come to such a height, ‘that almost nowhere in the north country can his majesty’s subjects promise safety to their persons or means ... the very burghs and towns themselves are in continual fear of some sudden surprise, by fire or otherwise, from thir broken men.’

1634.

It appears, however, that Frendraught had not passively yielded to these assaults. On a hership of goods being taken away in September, ‘he with some horsemen followed sharply, and brought back his haill goods again but strake of sword.’ In October, a hership of threescore nolt and elevenscore sheep was successfully taken away; but shortly thereafter, on six hundred of the limmers coming into his neighbourhood, he raised a force of two hundred foot and a hundred and forty horsemen, and falling upon them by surprise, dispersed them in flight. It was in November that, seeing the overpowering force which was mustering against him, he went to claim the protection of the Council. While the law was there issuing writs in his favour, the Gordons openly broke out and took away another large hership of cattle and sheep. ‘To hold siller among their hands,’ they took their prey to a fair, and sold it, accepting a dollar for each cow, and a groat for each sheep. Among other violent acts, finding one of Frendraught’s men on the outlook for information, they hanged him as a spy. The quantity of plunder they took from Frendraught almost reaches a fabulous amount. After all they had already done, they ‘raised out of the ground thirteenscore of nolt and eighteenscore of sheep,’ which they took and stored in the Castle of Strathbogie, with a view to obtaining the protection of the marquis for their misdeeds. They also burnt fourscore stacks on his home-farm.—Spal.

It was fully believed in the country that these violences were committed under the sanction of the Lady Rothiemay, who had the death of both a husband and a son to avenge upon Frendraught. At her trial in Edinburgh, two years after, it was charged against her, that she had received and entertained the Highlanders and their leaders, on their coming to make the attack on Frendraught. Certain it is, they now came with their prey to Rothiemay, entered the house, and began to live in riotous style upon Frendraught’s bestial, killing at once threescore bullocks and a hundred sheep. ‘Some they salted, some they roasted, and some they ate fresh.’ They also compelled Frendraught’s tenants to supply them with meal, malt, and poultry. According to Spalding, there was an appearance of force exercised on the lady and her two daughters, who were thrust into a kiln-barn to be out of the way of the depredators. But no one doubted that, in reality, the lady was happy to see them in her house. In her dittay, it is alleged that, on their return from the first day’s adventures, she had tables spread for them, and she and her daughters received them with salutations. On the evening of the day when they burned Frendraught’s stackyard, with twelvescore bolls of corn, the lady expressed herself as well pleased with their success; and at Christmas ‘she dancit with the licht horsemen in the place of Rothiemay, the cushion-dance, [bearing the cushion] upon her shoulder.’ Till the house, indeed, was summoned and rendered to the sheriff of Banff, in January 1635, she had given no token of disrelish for any of the proceedings of the depredators.

1634.

In November, a herald with a trumpeter, sent by the Privy Council, came to summon the misdoers at the market-crosses of the northern burghs. Between Banff and Elgin, ‘he meets with Captain Gordon [brother to the Laird of Park, and one of the chief delinquents], to whom he told his commission, and made intimation of his charges ... who at the giving thereof was weel fearit of his life. Captain Gordon discreetly answered, their blood was taken maist cruelly within the house of Frendraught—justice is sought, but none found; whilk made them desperately to seek revenge upon the Laird of Frendraught, his men, tenants, and servants, at their own hands; but as to the rest of the king’s lieges they would offer no injury.... The herald, glad of this answer, and blyth to win away with his life, took his leave, and the trumpeter sounded ... to whom the captain gave five dollars of wages.’ The herald also went to the Bog to summon the marquis, an extraordinary piece of audacity: however, the marquis, who, in reality, had taken no active part in the business, entertained the poor man civilly, and allowed him to go on to Elgin, Forres, and Inverness, for the fulfilment of his mission, as well as to return peaceably through Moray when all was done.

Dec. 30.

The marquis represented to the Council that, from age and infirmity, he was unable to obey their summons; but he sent several of the gentlemen of his house who had been called upon to appear, and these were all put into the Tolbooth of Edinburgh. The Council at the same time caused the sheriff of Aberdeen to raise two hundred men and proceed to the disturbed country. This officer found no violators of the law in his own county, but learned that there was a host of them at Rothiemay, in the county of Banff. These, being beyond his own bounds, he was obliged to leave to the sheriff of Banff. The latter officer soon after went in similar force to the place of Rothiemay, and, past expectation, ‘found open yetts, enterit the place, sought the haill rooms, but no man was there, for they had fled about twa hours before the sheriff’s coming; whereupon he disbanded the gentlemen.... But the sheriff was no sooner gone, but they came all back again to Rothiemay, where they held house in wonted form.’

It is briefly noted in a manuscript written about 1720, that the family of Frendraught, which once possessed three parishes (Forgue, Inverkeithny, and Aberchirder), was by these inroads of their enemies reduced to poverty, and in seventy years, was ‘stripped of all, and extinguished.’[57]

The spring of this year was cold and dry. During the months of April and May, there was no rain for seven weeks; consequently, the seed in some places never germinated. The summer, however, proved so fine, that after all there was a tolerable harvest.

‘The gose-summer[58] was matchless fair in Moray, without winds, wet, or any storm; the corn was well won; the garden herbs revived, July flowers and roses springing at Martinmass, whilk myself pulled. The kale shot and came to seed, and the March violets were springing as in April.’—Spal.

Nov.

1634.

A specimen of religious courtship of this age is given by Mr John Livingstone in his Memoirs. The lady was daughter to Bartholomew Fleming, merchant in Edinburgh. ‘When I went a visit to Ireland in February 1634, Mr Blair propounded to me that marriage. I had seen her before several times in Scotland, and heard the testimony of many of her gracious disposition, yet I was for nine months seeking, as I could, direction from God about that business; during which time I did not offer to speak to her, who, I believe, had not heard anything of the matter, only for want of clearness in my mind, although I was twice or thrice in the house, and saw her frequently at communions and public meetings, and it is like I might have been longer in such darkness, except the Lord had presented me an occasion of our conferring together; for in November 1634, when I was going to the Friday meeting at Ancrum, I met with her and some others going thither, and propounded to them by the way to confer upon a text whereupon I was to preach the day after at Ancrum, wherein I found her conference so judicious and spiritual, that I took that for some answer to my prayer to have my mind cleared, and blamed myself that I had not before taken occasion to confer with her. Four or five days after, I propounded the matter to her, and desired her to think upon it; and after a week or two, I went to her mother’s house, and being alone with her, desiring her answer, I went to prayer, and urged her to pray, which at last she did; and in that time I got abundance of clearness that it was the Lord’s mind that I should marry her, and then propounded the matter more fully to her mother. And although I was fully cleared, I may truly say it was above a month before I got marriage affection to her, although she was for personal endowments beyond many of her equals; and I got it not till I obtained it by prayer. But thereafter I had a great difficulty to moderate it.’

From this union proceeded a family which has made a distinguished figure in the United States of America.

1634.

The patent granted to Mr Nathaniel Uddart for twenty-one years, for the sole making of soap within the kingdom, was now drawing near to expiration; and by the king’s favour, a new one, to commence with the close of the old, was granted to his ‘daily servitor, Patrick Mauld of Panmure.’ The royal letter, recommending this matter to the Privy Council, proceeds on the consideration how ‘necessar it is, for the guid of his majesty’s ancient kingdom, that the same be furnished with good soaps at reasonable prices within the self’—that is, within the kingdom itself: further, that soap-making ‘is not a trade of such a nature as can be communicat to all his majesty’s lieges, and that the publict would suffer if the same were left indifferently to all;’ while it is equally true, that, such being the case, ‘the choice of the person perteins to his majesty, as a part of his sovereign prerogative.’

Seeing that ‘Patrick Mauld is willing to undergo the said wark, and to provide for all necessars for continuing the same,’ his majesty granted to him and his representatives for thirty-one years ‘the sole and full licence to make and cause to be made, within the said kingdom, soap for washing of clothes, of all such colours and quantity as they sall think good.’ Any quantity made beyond what was required for the country, might be exported upon payment of a duty equal to that paid on soap imported from abroad. Foreigners might be introduced to work for Mauld; but were strictly forbidden to make soap for any other person. As necessarily connected with this patent, the king granted to Mauld, for the same time, ‘licence to fish and trade in the country and seas of Greenland, and in the isles and other parts adjacent thereto, and that for provision of the said soap-works with oils and other materials necessar thereto,’ but solely so, free from all challenge or hinderance on the part of any others of his majesty’s subjects. Considering that there are certain ingredients necessary for the making of soap, and which it would be well to obtain within the kingdom itself, the king further gave Mauld sole licence ‘to make potasses of all sorts, of such wood within the said kingdom, as is most fit for that purpose, and that can be most conveniently spared;’ likewise ‘of all sorts of ferns and other vegetable things whatsoever, fit for the purpose.’ Mauld was only to pay twenty pounds sterling per annum for his privileges.—P. C. R.

Nov. 25.

A proclamation was made by the king regarding ‘an abuse that has of late years prevailed in the kingdom, by the disorderly behaviour of some disobedient people, who ordinarily, when the communion is administrate in their parishes, and at all other times when their occasions and humours serve them, run to seek the communion at the hands of such ministers as they know to be disconforme to all good order.’ Punishment was threatened according to act of parliament.—P. C. R.

Nov.

1634.

John Urquhart of Craigston, in Aberdeenshire, had raised a handsome estate, ‘but court or session’—that is to say, without court favour or by legal oppression—and built himself a beautiful semi-castellated house, the elegance of which is still calculated to impress those who visit it. As grand-uncle of the well-known Sir Thomas Urquhart of Cromarty, he had taken charge of that gentleman’s affairs, and thus came to be generally recognised as the Tutor of Cromarty. His death in November 1631 was bewailed by the elegant Aberdeenshire poet, Arthur Johnston, who says of him, in his epitaph in Kinedart church:

‘Posteritas, cui liquit agros et prædia, disce

Illius exemplo vivere, disce mori.’

The son of the Tutor, John Urquhart of Laithers, being deep in debt—to the extent of £40,000 Scots—his father settled the estate upon the next generation, now a boy. As John Urquhart was returning from his father’s funeral, he took sickness suddenly by the way, and soon found himself upon his death-bed. It was a bitter moment for the spendthrift, for he knew that his death would occasion severe losses to many gentlemen who stood as cautioners for his debts, and leave his own widow unprovided for. He could only call the boy to his bedside, and desire him to be good to his step-mother, and pay his father’s debts out of the large estate which would shortly be his. ‘The young boy passed his mourning promise so to do. Then he desires the Laird of Cromarty, who was present, to be nae waur tutor to his son nor his father was to him, and to help to see his debts paid.’

It seems to have been impossible in that age for either boy or girl to be left as this boy was, without becoming the subject of sordid speculations amongst those who had any access to or influence over them. The Laird of Innes, who was brother-in-law to the deceased Laithers, immediately ‘gets the guiding of this young boy, and, but advice of his friends, shortly and quietly marries him upon his awn eldest dochter, Elizabeth Innes.’ Such an outrage to the decency of nature for the sake of rich connection, does not seem to have been thought more than dexterous in those days. Innes, who was one of the first baronets of Nova Scotia, is described as ‘a man of great worth and honour.’ As a member of the Committee of Estates, he took a prominent part in the war which was some years afterwards commenced for the defence of the national religion.

1634. Nov. 30.

To the boy the affair became sadly tragical. When craved by the cautioners for his father’s debts, he was willing to comply; but the selfish father-in-law would not listen to any such proposition. The unfortunate gentlemen had to pay, in some instances to the wreck of their own estates. The many maledictions which they consequently launched at the youth, affected him greatly in his conscience and feelings. ‘And so, through melancholy, as was thought, he contracts ane consuming sickness, whereof he died, leaving behind him ane son called John in the keeping of his mother.’—Spal.

The singular fortunes of this boy of sixteen—for he is said to have been no older at his death—became the subject of a ballad containing some stanzas of a more poetical character than are usually found in that class of compositions.[59]

Dec. 14.

Died at Stirling, the Earl of Mar, Lord-treasurer of Scotland, the school-friend of King James VI., and a most respectable nobleman. Scott of Scotstarvet, who seems to have had rather more than the usual relish for the misfortunes of his neighbours, says of Lord Mar: ‘His chief delight was in hunting; and he procured by acts of parliament, that none should hunt within divers miles of the king’s house; yet often that which is most pleasant to a man is his overthrow; for, walking in his own hall, a dog cast him off his feet, and lamed his leg, of which he died; and at his burial, a hare having run through the company, his special chamberlain, Alexander Stirling, fell off his horse and broke his neck.’[60]

1635.

The winter 1634-5 is described by a contemporary as ‘the most tempestuous and stormy that was seen in Scotland these sixty years past, with such abundance of snow and so rigid a frost, that the snow lay in the plains from the 9th of December to the 9th of March.’—Bal. Another chronicler says that between the 26th of January and the 16th of February, ‘there fell furth ane huge snow, that men nor women could not walk upon our streets [Perth]. It was ten quarter or twa ell heich through all the town. Tay was thirty days frozen ower. There was are fast appointit, and there came a gentle thow, blissit be God.’ From the long stoppage of running waters everywhere, it became impossible to get corn ground, and a scarcity began to be felt. Ale became equally scarce, and no wonder—‘they knockit malt in knocking stanes.’—Chron. Perth. Owing also to the depth of the snow and its lying so long, ‘many bestial, both wild and tame, died; the flocks of sheep in the Lowlands, and the goats in the mountains, went all in effect to destruction.’—Bal.

Jan.

The excuse of the Marquis of Huntly not being held sufficient by the Privy Council, he was obliged to proceed to Edinburgh to answer for the Frendraught outrages. He commenced his journey on the 9th of January, and came by short stages to Aberdeen. In ten days, he had only reached Fettercairn in Forfarshire. Thence, after being storm-stayed in the place for three days, he advanced to Brechin, six miles; thence, next day, proceeded two miles further to his own house of Melgum. Here the snow detained him till the 10th of February. He and his lady then proceeded, ‘in ane coach borne upon lang trees upon men’s arms, because horse might not travel in respect of the great storm and deepness of the way clad with snaw and frost.’ This journey of about a hundred and fifty miles seems to have occupied fully five weeks, including the detentions on the way.

The appearance of the marquis before the Council ended in his liberation, and that of the gentlemen previously imprisoned, upon their undertaking to repress the disorders, and give surety for a second appearance at a fixed time, the marquis also giving caution to Frendraught that he and his tenants should be unharmed, under a penalty of a hundred thousand pounds [probably Scots money]. The affair being thus so far settled, the marquis returned to his own country in May. He returned to the capital in summer, and was favourably received by the Council on account of his endeavours for the quieting of the country.

Jan?

‘... there was seen in Scotland a great blazing star, representing the shape of a crab or cancer, having long spraings spreading from it. It was seen in the county of Moray, and thought by some that this star, and the drying up of the pot of Brechin, as is before noted, were prodigious signs of great troubles in Scotland.’—Spal.

This portent is the more worth noting, as the description so curiously recalls the appearance of some of the nebulæ brought into view by the powers of Lord Rosse’s telescope—though, of course, from anything we know of the distance of these objects, the possibility of one of them coming into view of the naked eye, would scarcely be surmised by any modern astronomer.

1635.

Early in this year commenced a great mortality, probably in consequence of the scarcity which prevailed during the preceding year. The small-pox raged among the young for six or seven months with great severity, and, what was remarked as unusual, some persons took the disease for the second time.[61]

There was also a scarcity this year. ‘The fiar was ten pounds Scots the boll of meal and beir.... Several of the clergy, to the shame of them all, charged twelve pounds Scots and above.’[62]

Mar. 26.

Grant younger of Ballindalloch, reported to the Council that he had lately taken an opportunity to attack some of the broken men who formed the company of the outlaw James Grant. Entering into pursuit of two, named Finlay M‘Grimmen and —— Cumming, he and his people had killed the first, and taken the second. They had carried Cumming three miles, intending to exhibit him alive to the Council, along with the head of M‘Grimmen; but the country rising upon them, they had been obliged to
put the man to death. The Lords accepted this act as good service, and ordered M‘Grimmen’s head to be affixed to the Nether Bow Port; at the same time giving the inbringer of it a guerdon of a hundred merks, ‘for encouragement of others.’—-P. C. R.

1635.

The year at which we are now arrived is the epoch of the establishment of a regular letter-post in Scotland. There was previously a system of posts, in the proper sense of the word—namely, establishments at certain intervals, where horses could be had for travelling, and which had the occasional duty of forwarding packets of letters regarding public affairs. As illustrative of this system of posts, which was probably limited to the road between Edinburgh and Berwick (as part of the great line of communication with London), with possibly one or two other roads—On the 29th of March 1631, the lords of the Privy Council dealt with the fault of —— Forres, postmaster of Haddington, respecting a packet of his majesty’s letters which had been lost by his carelessness. It appears that Forres was bound to have fresh horses always ready for the forwarding of such packets; but on one late occasion he had sent a packet by a foot-boy, who had lost it by the way, and he had never taken any further trouble regarding it. On the ensuing 3d of November, the Council had occasion to find fault with William Duncan, postmaster in the Canongate, and more particularly with a post-boy in Duncan’s employment, because the latter, instead of carrying his majesty’s packet to the postmaster at Haddington, had given it to ‘a whipman’ of Musselburgh, to be carried to Duncan’s house there (designing probably that it should be forwarded by another hand). The Council recommended Sir William Seton ‘to prescribe regulations to the postmasters, for the sure and speedy despatch of his majesty’s packet, both anent the postmasters their constant residence at the place of their charge, and keeping of are register for receipt of the packets.’—P. C. R.

These circumstances appear as characteristic of a time when the postal arrangements were at once very new and very simple.

The necessity of having this system of posts for the communication of intelligence between the king and his Scottish Council was partly incidental to the time. In the days of King James, things were of so simple a nature, and in general so much left to the discretion of the Council, that a system of posts for the despatch of packets was scarcely required. Charles, having entered on a course more difficult, and in which great energy on his own part and that of his subservient Scottish Council was called for, and all little enough as being contrary to the general inclinations of the people, found a need for more frequent communication; and hence these posts in the Canongate and at Haddington.

1635.

At length this system merged in one applicable to the sister-kingdom also, and in which a regular periodical transmission of letters for private individuals was included. To quote from a contemporary writer—‘Till this time [1635] there had been no certain or constant intercourse between England and Scotland. Thomas Witherings, Esq., his majesty’s postmaster of England for foreign parts, was now commanded “to settle one running post, or two, to run day and night between Edinburgh and London, to go thither and come back again in six days; and to take with them all such letters as shall be directed to any post-town in the said road; and the posts to be placed in several places out of the road, to run and bring and carry out of the said roads the letters, as there shall be occasion, and to pay twopence for every single letter under fourscore miles; and if one hundred and forty miles, fourpence; and if above, then sixpence. The like rule the king is pleased to order to be observed to West Chester, Holyhead, and thence to Ireland; and also to observe the like rule from London to Plymouth, Exeter, and other places in that road; the like for Oxford, Bristol, Colchester, Norwich, and other places. And the king doth command that no other messenger, foot-post, or foot-posts, shall take up, carry, receive, or deliver any letter or letters whatsoever, other than the messengers appointed by the said Thomas Witherings: except common known carriers, or a particular messenger to be sent on purpose with a letter to a friend.”‘[63]

The post between London and Edinburgh was of course conducted on horseback. It usually went twice a week, sometimes only once. Three years after, when the troubles had begun, the communication became insecure. A person in England then wrote to his friend in Scotland: ‘I hear the posts are waylaid, and all letters taken from them and brought to Secretary Cooke; therefore will I not, nor do you, send by that way hereafter.’[64]

June.

‘There was seen in the water of Don a monster-like beast, having the head like to ane great mastiff dog or swine, and hands, arms, and paps like to a man. The paps seemed to be white. It had hair on the head, and the hinder parts, seen sometimes above the water, seemed clubbish, short-legged, and short-footed, with ane tail. This monster was seen swimming bodily above the water, about ten hours in the morning, and continued all day visible, swimming above and below the bridge without any fear. The town’s-people of both Aberdeens came out in great multitudes to see this monster. Some threw stones; some shot guns and pistols; and the salmon-fishers rowed cobles with nets to catch it, but all in vain. It never shrinked nor feared, but would duck under the water, snorting and bullering, terrible to the hearers and beholders. It remained two days, and was seen no more.’—Slightly altered from Spalding.

It seems most probable that this was one of the herbivorous cetacea, as the manatus. ‘They have,’ says Cuvier, ‘two mammæ on the breast, and hairy moustaches; two circumstances which, when observed from a distance, may give them some resemblance to human beings, and have probably occasioned those fabulous accounts of Tritons and Sirens which some travellers pretend to have seen.’ The manatus haunts the mouths of rivers in the hottest parts of the Atlantic Ocean, and it is just possible that a stray individual may have found its way to the coast of Scotland, more especially as it was the summer season.

1635

The author of an Account of Buchan,[65] supposed to have been written about 1680, tells us that, some years before, two mermaids had been seen at Pitsligo, by a group of persons, one of whom was Mr Alexander Robertson, chaplain to the Laird of Pitsligo, ‘known to be ingenious.’ This writer refers to the strange marine animal of 1635, as a mermaid.

Aug. 19.

George, first Earl of Kinnoul, Chancellor of Scotland, had died at London in December 1634,[66] and now he was to be interred in his family tomb at the parish church of Kinnoul, near Perth. The funeral was one of those grand heraldic processions, of which that of the Earl of Buccleuch, under June 11, 1634, has been given as an example. There were saulies, trumpeters, and pursuivants in great numbers; relatives to carry the arms of the deceased, his coronet, his spurs, his gauntlet, his mace, and great seal, and the arms of many of his ancestors on both sides. His physician and chaplain in mourning, ‘a horse in dule,’ and two pages of honour, were other figures. And finally came the coffin, surmounted by a pall of black velvet, carried by twelve gentlemen, followed by the deceased’s son, in a long mourning robe and hood, assisted by six earls and three lords going three abreast. ‘In this order went they through the town of Perth, and near the bridge crossed the water (wharves and boats being appointed on purpose), and so marched to Kinnoul church, where, after the funeral-sermon being ended, the corps were set in the tomb prepared for them.’[67]

A full-length figure of the earl still surmounts his tomb; a good illustration of the full dress of a man of first rank in that age. The spiteful Scott of Scotstarvet tells us, ‘he was a man of little or no learning, yet had conquest a good estate—namely, the baronies of Kinnoul, Aberdalgie, Dupplin, Kinfauns, Seggieden, Dunninald, and many others; all which estates in a few years after his decease, his son made havock of.’

1635. Sep. 26.

The pest was at this time at Cramond, near Edinburgh—supposed to have been introduced by a ship from the Low Countries, where the disease largely prevailed. The inhabitants were ordered to keep within their own parish, and two clengers from Newhaven were despatched to bury the dead and take all other needful steps to prevent the spread of infection. A strict order was issued to prevent the landing of people out of ships from Holland, or any intercourse with such vessels as might come into the Firth of Forth. The wife of Thomas Anderson, skipper, having gone on board her husband’s vessel, and remained there some time, after which she returned to her house in Leith, she was commanded to remain within doors. One Francis Vanhoche, of Middleburg, had embarked in a ship bound for Scotland, in order to settle his accounts for lead ore; he had been detained by contrary winds, and then landed at Hull, whence he proceeded to Edinburgh, and took up his quarters with Gilbert Fraser, a merchant-burgess of the city. To the surprise of Francis, he was shut up in the house as a dangerous person, and not liberated till the Laird of Lamington engaged to take him immediately off to Leadhills, where he had business to attend to. The order for the seclusion of the parishioners of Cramond caused enormous misery to the poor, who, being prevented from working, could obtain no supply of the necessaries of life. After a representation of their extreme sufferings, the order was removed (December 15).—P. C. R.

During the ensuing year, the plague declared itself in London, Newcastle, and other towns in England, but hardly appeared in Scotland till November, when the towns of Preston, Prestonpans, and Musselburgh were slightly infected.

(Nov.)

1635.

Soon after the Marquis of Huntly’s summer journey to Edinburgh, Captain Adam Gordon of Park, offended at the severe proceedings of the great lord against himself and others, went to the Council in Edinburgh, and making a separate peace, gave information which led the Council to believe that the marquis had receipted and supplied some of the broken men after undertaking their reduction. The aged noble was accordingly summoned once more, and forced to obey, though it was now ‘the dead of the year, cold, tempestuous, and stormy.’ He and his lady again travelled ‘by chariot.’ On this occasion, he had to submit to a period of imprisonment in the Castle of Edinburgh, in a room where he had no light, and was denied the company of his lady, except on a visit at Christmas. He was afterwards permitted to live in ‘his own lodging, near to his majesty’s palace of Holyroodhouse, with liberty to walk within ane of the gardens, of walks within the precinct of the said palace, and no further.’ Thence, in June 1636, finding himself growing weaker and weaker, he set out for his northern castle, ‘in a wand-bed within his chariot, his lady still with him.’ He died on the journey, in an inn at Dundee, whence his body was brought in a horse-litter to Strathbogie, for burial.

At the end of August, this great man was buried in state at Elgin, according to the forms of the Catholic Church, to which he belonged. ‘He had torch-lights carried in great numbers by friends and gentlemen.’ His son and three other nobles bore the coffin. ‘He was carried to the east style of the College Kirk, in at the south door, [and] buried in his own aile, with much mourning and lamentation; the like form of burial with torchlight was seldom seen here before.’—Spal.

This grand old nobleman had been in possession of his honours for sixty years. In his youth, he had great troubles from his rivalry with the Earl of Moray, and his adherence to the ancient faith. But he had lived down all difficulties, and, considering the sad affair at Dunnibrissle in 1592, died with a wonderfully good character. ‘The marquis,’ says Spalding, ‘was of a great spirit, for in time of trouble he was of invincible courage, and boldly bare down all his enemies. He was never inclined to war himself, but by the pride and influence of his kin, was diverse times drawn into troubles, whilk he did bear through valiantly. He loved not to be in the law contending against any man, but loved rest and quietness with all his heart, and in time of peace he lived moderately and temperately in his diet, and fully set to building all curious devices. A good neighbour in his marches, disposed rather to give than to take a foot wrongously. He was heard to say he never drew sword in his own quarrel. In his youth, a prodigal spender; in his old age, more wise and worldly, yet never counted for cost in matters of credit and honour. A great householder; a terror to his enemies, whom he ever with his prideful kin held under subjection and obedience. Just in all his bargains, and was never heard for his true debt.’

1635

The marquis had had infinite trouble through life in maintaining his faith as a son of the Church of Rome, and it fully appears that the Presbyterians had the trouble of converting him four or five times. ‘In 1588, he gave in his adherence to the reformed establishment, and subscribed the Confession; but in his intercepted letters to the Spanish king, he says that “the whole had been extorted from him against his conscience.” In 1597, his lordship was again reconciled to the kirk, with much public solemnity, signed the Confession of Faith, and partook of the sacrament. His fidelity, however, was wholly feigned, and did not last long. In 1607, Mr George Gladstanes, minister at St Andrews, was appointed by the General Assembly to remain with the Marquis of Huntly “for ane quarter or ane half year, to the effect by his travels and labours, the said noble lord and his family might be informit in the word of truth.” In the following year, Mr Gladstanes reported that he had stayed three days with the marquis, apparently at the time when his lordship was engaged in the re-edification of his castle of Strathbogie, of whose grandeur the existing remains as yet afford ample proof; and having among other things inquired at his lordship “why he resorted not to the preaching at the ordinar times in parish kirks,” he was informed that he could not well resort to the parish kirk, partly in respect of the mean rank of such as were within the parish, and partly in respect his lordship’s predecessors were in use to have ane chapel in their awn house, whilk he was minded to prosecute now, “seeing he was presently preparing his house of Strathbogie.” In 1606, he was accused of giving encouragement to the Roman Catholics, and thereby occasioning a great defection from the reformed opinions, and in 1608 he was excommunicated. In 1616, he was absolved from excommunication by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and afterwards by the General Assembly which met at Aberdeen in that year. There is, however, no doubt that during his whole life he was a warm adherent of the ancient religion.’[68] It would be difficult for a candid mind to say which was most to blame in all this—the marquis for his insincerity, or the church-courts for exercising force and accepting professions where they knew that there was no hearty concession attainable.

1635.

In his latter years, the marquis devoted himself much to what was then called policy—that is, building and planting. We have already seen that he erected an elegant mansion at Strathbogie—the now ruinous Huntly Castle. ‘He built a house at Kinkail on the Dee, called the New-house, which standeth amidst three hunting-forests of his own. He built the house of Ruthven in Badenoch twice, [it] being burnt by aventure or negligence of his servants after he had once finished the same. He built a new house in Aboyne; he repaired his house in Elgin; he hath built a house in the Plewlands in Moray; he hath enlarged and decored the house of Bog-Gicht, which he hath parked about; he repaired his house in the old town of Aberdeen.’—G. H. S.

Dec.

We light upon a curious bit of life in the book of the Privy Council. One day, not long before the date noted, Nicolas Johnston, wife of Mr Francis Irving, commissary-clerk of Dumfries, was walking on the street of that burgh, passing from her mother’s house to the residence of ‘Lady Cockpool,’ when she met Marion Gladstanes, spouse of the schoolmaster. Marion, after many flattering words, invited Nicolas Johnston into her house ‘to drink with her.’ Yielding with some reluctance to this invitation, Nicolas was taken into a quiet room in Marion’s house, where presently a mutchkin of white wine was brought in for the solacement of the two ladies. Marion, as the hostess, drank the first cupful to the health of her gossip’s husband; then, while Nicolas was looking at the hangings of a bed (few rooms were in those days without beds), she filled the cup again. ‘Nicolas, looking about, perceived her tottering the cup in her hand, as if she had the perellis’ [paralysis]. Then she gave it to Nicolas to drink. It appeared to have some brayed nutmeg infused into it. Nicolas, having drunk a little, handed back the cup to Marion, who, ‘pretending it was to the said Nicolas’s husband’s health, urged her at three drinks to drink the same out. Thereafter Marion took the cup, and set it down, saying: “The last that drank out of that cup, loved the wine the better of the nutmegs,” and with that changed her countenance and grew red. Nicolas, fearing some harm, and yet not suspecting any poison to be in the cup, the said Marion took ane clean linen and said: “I think you love not nutmegs,” rubbed the cup clean, filled a drink of wine, drank thereof, and her servant also.’

1635.

Nicolas Johnston afterwards proceeded to Lady Cockpool’s, but in the way experienced a violent attack of thirst, ‘so that she was forced to call for drink, and could scarce be slockened. Thereafter, she came to her mother’s house, and being troubled with the like thirst, drank weak ale and got little rest all the night.’ Next day, her body, from the middle downwards, was enormously swelled, making her a monstrous figure, and this illness did not much abate for twenty days. Soon after, she had to take to her bed again, nor did she begin to recover ‘till she received an antidote from Dr Hamilton.’ Her health did not fully come back.

A commission was issued for inquiry into this affair, but with what result does not appear.—P. C. R.

1636. Jan. 14.

Instances of the capture of Scottish mariners by Barbary rovers, and of charitable efforts at home to redeem them from a cruel slavery, have been already intimated as numerous. At this time, we are informed of one which must have formed a powerful appeal to the humane bosom. A ship called the John of Leith, commanded by John Brown, and having ten sailors on board, is quietly proceeding on a mercantile voyage from London to Rochelle. Near the coast of France, it encounters three Turkish men-of-war, who give chase from sunrise to sundown, and at last take and sink the vessel, after easing her of her crew and all her valuable goods.

The poor skipper Brown and his ten men, being carried to Sallee, were taken to market and sold as slaves. Each bearing iron chains to the weight of eighty pounds, the eleven men were employed all day in grinding in a mill, with nothing to eat but a little dusty bread. ‘In the night, they are put in foul holes, twenty foot under the ground, where they lie miserably, looking nightly to be eaten with rottens and mice.’ It was further stated, that ‘being but a company of poor seafaring men, having nothing but their hires whereby to redeem themselves, and their kin are so mean and unworthy as they will do nothing in that errand, their thraldom and misery will be perpetual unless they be assisted and helped by the charitable benevolence of his majesty’s good subjects.’

The Privy Council, looking kindly on the wretched state of the men, recommended a contribution in their behalf throughout Lothian, Berwick, Stirling, and Fife, under the care of ‘John Brown and Walter Ross, indwellers in Preston.’

1636.

In the ensuing month, the Privy Council had in their hands a supplication from James Duncher, setting forth his pitiful estate as a prisoner among the Turks in Algiers. He had been kept for a long time there, forced to carry water on his back through the town, ‘with an iron chain about his leg and round his middle, instead of sark, hose, and shoes;’ and no food ‘but four unce of bread daily, as black as tar,’ while obliged to endure ‘forty or threescore of stripes with are rope of four inches great upon his naked body, sometimes on his back, and sometimes on his belly.’ ‘When the ship is to go to the sea, he must go perforce and sustein the like misery there, and all because he will not renunce his faith in Christ and become ane Turk.’ His cruel masters having offered to liberate him for twelve hundred merks, he now entreated the Privy Council to recommend his case to the charity of his fellow-countrymen, that that sum might be raised and sent to him. The Council looked kindly on this sad petition, and appointed a collection to be made in the sheriffdoms of Edinburgh and Berwick, the proceeds to be handed to ‘David Corsaw in Dysart, uncle of the supplicant,’ who had undertaken to administer the money for Duncher’s relief.—P. C. R.

Jan. 27.

1636.

A bark belonging to Dundee, carrying goods from Camphire, was overtaken near the mouth of the Firth of Forth by a storm, which obliged the master, after struggling with great difficulties, to run the vessel on shore in an inlet called Thornton Loch, near Dunbar. Immediately she was beset by a multitude of farmers, Dunbar tradesmen, and others, provided with horses and carts, who, cutting a hole in her side with axes, seized and took away her whole cargo. The enumeration of the articles gives some idea of what might constitute a grocer’s stock in those days, and speaks rather more strongly of comfort and luxury than many may be prepared for. There were ‘ten lasts of white pease, three lasts and a half of soap, four great pipes of “alme” [alum?] and three puncheons of “alme,” a ball of madder, three balls of galls, twenty hundred pund weight of sugar, ten trees [barrels] of white stiffin [starch], twenty trees of raisins of the sun, three trees of figs, [three] puncheons of Corse raisins, ten kinkens [kegs] of powder, twa small trees of brimstone, are thousand pund weight of tobacco, seven barrel pipes, four kinkens of indigo, four hundred pund of pepper, fifty pund of cannell [cinnamon], thirteen pund of maces, fifteen pund of saffron, twenty pund of nutmegs, ane thousand pund of ridbrissels (?), ten piece of Holland cloth, thirty-six pund of silk, ane steik of Spanish taffeta, three trees of capers, ane packet of pannis’ (?), and ‘four hundred pund of pewter vessel and stoups,’ besides ‘six hundred and fifty merks of ready gold and silver, being in a purse, with the haill abulyiements and clothing belonging to the company and equipage of the ship.’ Having carried off these articles, they proceeded to sell them to the country people, without any regard to the remonstrances of the master of the ship. ‘The like of whilk barbarous violence, committed in the heart of the country by people who ought to have respect for law and justice, has not been heard of; whereanent some exemplar and severe course ought to be ta’en, lest the oversight and impunity thereof make others to commit the like.’

It is gratifying to find the Council taking up the East Lothian wreckers in this spirit. They did proceed with great energy against such of the individuals accused as they found to be truly guilty, imposing on them severally certain fines, from fifty merks up to fifty pounds, in order to make up a proper compensation to the owners of the goods.—P. C. R.

In July 1636, the Council dealt with a case of wrecking which strongly illustrates the state of morals in the Western Islands. The Susanna, a bark of twenty-four tons, was proceeding, in December 1634, from the port of St Malo, in France, to Limerick, with wines and other goods to the value of a thousand pounds, when she twice encountered stormy weather, and by force of winds and waves, was carried to an inlet in one of the Hebrides. Having lost their boat, the mariners made signs to the people on shore, who presently came on board, armed with swords, pikes, and crossbows, ‘and demanded of the company of the bark what they would give to bring the bark into are harbour.’ It was agreed by the distressed crew, that a butt of sack and a barrel of raisins should be given for that service and for some provisions of which they stood in need. Then the islanders cut the ship’s cable and brought her to land.

The master and his crew expected here to find kindly entertainment and to be in full security; but, instead of this, a great number of people, of whom the captain of the Clanranald and the Laird of Castleborrow were the chief (three hundred in all, it is said), came down upon them in armed fashion, and furnished with barrels and other conveniences; ‘drank and drew out the wine day by day, carried away all their goods and merchandise,’ and even robbed the strangers of their wearing apparel, ‘as weel that upon their bodies as whilk was in the bark.’ By threats and ill-usage, they also obliged a young man, a member of the crew, to assume the character of factor of the vessel, and make a mock sale of her merchandise, ‘in consideration of a sowm of money, although he received nane.’ Finally, under a threat of being sent with the crew ‘to the savages that dwells in the mayne,’ the owner was compelled to accept eight pounds for the vessel, though it was worth a hundred and fifty; and then the crew found it necessary to get away as best they could, for fear of their lives.

1636.

The Council summoned the accused persons, and on their failing to appear, denounced them as rebels.—P. C. R.

Jan.

A difficulty occurring about the election of magistrates for Aberdeen, a leet was sent to the Privy Council, who selected out of it Alexander Jaffray, a distinguished merchant, whom we shall meet again in this chronicle. ‘Many lichtlied both the man and the election, not being of the old blood of the town, but the oy [grandson] of ane baxter [baker], and therefore was set down in the provost’s dais, before his entering, are baken pie, to sermon. This was done divers times; but he miskenned [overlooked] all, and never quarrelled the samen.’—Spal.

Apr. 1.

On the application of Mr William Gordon, professor of medicine and anatomy in the university of Aberdeen, who had hitherto been obliged to illustrate his lessons by dissecting beasts, the Privy Council gave warrant to the sheriffs and magistrates of Aberdeen to allow him the bodies of a couple of malefactors for the service of his class, if such could be had, but, failing these, the bodies of any poor people who might die in hospitals or otherwise, and have no friends to take exception; this being with the approbation of the Bishop of Aberdeen, chancellor of the university.[69]

July 27.

1636.

This was a terrible day for the broken men who had for the last few years been carrying on such wild proceedings in Morayland and other districts bordering on the Highlands. Lord Lorn—who soon after, as Marquis of Argyle, became the leader of the Covenanting party—had exerted himself with diligence to put down the system of robbery and oppression by which the country had been so long harassed; and he had succeeded in capturing ten of the most noted of the catterans, including one whose name enjoys a popular celebrity even to the present day. This was Gilderoy or Gillieroy; such at least was his common appellation—a descriptive term signifying the Red Lad—but he actually bore the name of Patrick Macgregor, being a member of that unhappy clan which the severity of the government had driven to desperate courses about thirty years before. Another of the captured men was John Forbes, who seems to have been the fidus Achates of the notorious outlaw, James Grant. A natural son of Grant was also of the party. These ten men were now brought to trial in Edinburgh.

It was alleged of Gilderoy that he and his band had for three years past sorned ‘through the haill bounds of Strathspey, Braemar, Cromar, and countries thereabout, oppressing the common and poor people, violently taking away from them their meat, drink, and provision, and their haill guids.’ They had taken fifteen nolt from one farm in Glenprosen; had lain for days at Balreny, eating up the country, and possessing themselves of whatever they could lay hands on, and in some instances they had carried off the goodman himself, or the man and wife together, in order to extort money for their ransom. One of the charges leads us to the romantic scenery of Loch Lomond, where there is an island called Inchcailloch (Women’s Island), from having been the seat of a nunnery in ancient times. Gilderoy, in company with his brother, John Dhu Roy, and his half-brother, John Graham, had come to William Stewart’s house in this island, and taken from it ‘the whole insight plenishing, guids, and geir,’ besides the legal papers belonging to the proprietor. There had also been a cruel slaughter of one of the Clan Cameron. The other men were taxed with offences of a similar kind.

If the doom of the ten catterans was duly executed—and we know nothing to the contrary—they were all, two days after, drawn backwards on a hurdle to the Cross, and there hanged, Gilderoy and John Forbes suffering on a gallows ‘ane degree higher’ than that on which their companions suffered, and further having their heads and right hands struck off for exhibition on the city ports.[70]

Gilderoy, as is well known, attained a ballad fame. There is a broadside of the time, containing a lament for him by his mistress, in rude verses not altogether devoid of pathos. She says:

‘My love he was as brave a man

As ever Scotland bred,

Descended from a Highland clan,

A catter to his trade.

No woman then or womankind

Had ever greater joy

Than we two when we lodged alone,

I and my Gilderoy.’

1630.

There is something almost fine in the close of the piece:

‘And now he is in Edinburgh town,

’Twas long ere I came there;

They hanged him upon a pin,

And he wagged in the air:

His relics they were more esteemed

Than Hector’s were at Troy—

I never love to see the face

That gazed on Gilderoy.’

A various version of this doleful ditty appears in A Collection of Old Ballads (London, printed for J. Roberts, &c., 1724). It contains some stanzas not quite consistent with modern taste, and takes such a view of the offences of the hero as might be expected from a woman and a mistress:

‘What kind of cruelty is this,

To hang such handsome men!’

As it breathed, however, a strain of natural feeling, it attracted the attention of Lady Wardlaw, the authoress of the fine ballad of Hardiknute, and by her was put into such an improved form as may be said to have rendered the name of Gilderoy classical.

July 28.

A petition given in to the Privy Council by the parishioners of Denny, craving assistance to rebuild a bridge which had been carried away by a ‘speat’ of the Carron, stated the circumstances of the accident in terms which illustrate the power of running-water in a remarkable manner. The tempest, it was said, exceeded all that could be remembered, ‘by the violence whereof not only houses, with men, wives, and bairns, were pitifully carried away and drowned, but great craigs and rocks were rent, and huge parts of the same, of forty foot of length and above, carried with the violence of the speat, above four or five pair of butts length from the craig, within the water of Carron, to the dry land.’—P. C. R.

Aug. 3.

Lady Rothiemay, after a long detention under caution, was this day subjected to trial for giving encouragement to the Frendraught spoilers two years before. There seems to have been a disposition to look lightly on the offence of a woman who had had the deaths of a husband and a son to excite her feelings, and the charge, after being twice delayed, was finally allowed to fall to the ground.

1636. Nov. 10.

The Privy Council, learning that a number of gipsies had been seized a month before, and thrown into jail at Haddington, decreed that, ‘whereas the keeping of them longer there is troublesome and burdenable to the town,’ therefore the sheriff or his depute should pronounce sentence of death ‘against so many of thir counterfeit thieves as are men, and against so many of the women as wants children, ordaining the men to be hangit, and the women to be drowned;’ while ‘such of the women as has children should be scourged through the burgh.’[71]

Dec. 8.

John Greg, ‘in the Haughs of Fingoth,’ complained to the Privy Council of the conduct of Mr James Stuart, commissary of Dunkeld, who, after passing upon him sundry affronts, had lately fallen upon a new trick for his disgrace—namely, to insert ‘Macgregor’ as his name in all public documents in which he was concerned either as pursuer or defender. ‘Now, lately, under the borrowed name of David Martin, servitor to the Laird of Ballechin, he has ta’en the gift of the complainer’s escheat, and in that same gift he calls the complainer John Macgregor, alias Greg.’ By this it was assumed that the Dunkeld commissary intended ‘to draw the complainer under all the courses that sall be ta’en with the Clan Gregor.’ Greg further affirmed that his family name for generations past memory had been simply Greg, ‘and had nothing to do with the race of Clan Gregor.’

The Council obliged Stuart to give caution that he would discontinue this singular kind of persecution.—P. C. R.

1637. Feb. 23.

We have notice at this time of a very pretty quarrel between Lord Fraser and the Laird of Philorth. ‘The kirkyard dike of Rathin being altogether ruinous and decayed, the gentlemen and others of the parish, out of respect to the honour of God and credit of the parish, concluded to repair and big up the said kirkyard dike,’ except a part which fell properly to be done by the late Lords of Lovat and Fraser. Owing to the death of Lord Lovat, the duty of building the latter portion fell solely upon Lord Fraser, who, when he had executed it, ‘caused put up aboon the kirkstyle his name and arms in carved stones, after a decent and comely order, never thinking that any man would have been so void of modesty and discretion as to have maligned the said wark.’ Nevertheless, Alexander Frisell of Philorth had come with a number of armed followers, under cloud of night, and put up three great brods with the arms of Philorth painted on them, right over the Lord Fraser’s arms, which were now consequently invisible.

Such a proceeding, it was held, could only be interpreted as meant to stir up Lord Fraser into a deadly quarrel; ‘but he, out of respect to his majesty’s obedience and laws, whilk he will ever prefer to his awn unruly passions, has forborne to tak upon him the sword of justice.’ He applies to the Privy Council for the just redress of ‘this inexcusable wrong.’

The Council had the accused parties summoned before them, and the Laird of Philorth, having appeared, could only excuse himself by alleging what he felt to be due to his late father’s ‘funerals.’ The Lords therefore contented themselves with ordering the ‘brod’ with the arms to be taken down ‘at mid-day, in presence of the minister of Rathin.’ A counter complaint from Philorth against Lord Fraser for putting up his arms in stone on the kirkyard dike, was remitted to the judge ordinary of the district.—P. C. R.

Feb. 23.

It is remarkable that the government never previously exerted itself more strenuously for the repression of spoliation and common theft than just before its hands were paralysed by the outbreak of the religious spirit. We have just seen justice done upon a number of broken men of the north and the gipsies of the south; we have now to see even more stern proceedings against the Border thieves. A commission, headed by the Earl of Traquair, sat at Jedburgh on the day noted, when whole droves of culprits came before them, and were dealt with in the most rigorous manner. The number hanged was thirty! Five were burned, and as many fined. Fifteen were banished from the country, under caution never to return. While fifteen were ‘cleansed,’ forty were declared fugitives for non-appearance, and twenty dismissed with assurance that they should be treated in a similar manner if they failed to bring forward caution before a particular day.

1637.

The commissioners framed a number of statutes, some of which speak strongly of the state of things which they were meant to correct. Any person going to Ireland without a licence was to be held as a thief, and brought to trial. It was culpable for any innkeeper to have beef, mutton, or lamb in his house, without ‘presenting the skin, heed, and lugs thereof, to two or more of their honest neighbours, who may bear witness of the mark and birn of the skin and hide, and that the flesh thereof is lawfully becomit.’ No one was to purchase cattle or sheep otherwise than in open market, ‘at the least before twa famous witnesses testifying that the guids is lawfully becomit.’ It was a misdemeanour for any one who had goods stolen to negotiate for their recovery and leave the thief unprosecuted. No one was to give harbourage or assistance in any way to men declared fugitives from justice.—P. C. R.

June.

During the spring and early summer of this year, the border counties were afflicted with the pest. Various orders were issued with a view to confining the range of the sickness as much as possible. From one of these arose a complaint on the part of Sir John Murray of Philiphaugh, who, as convener of the justices of his county, had occasion to see the arrangements carried out. Having gone to Selkirk for this purpose, he found a citizen named James Murray about to have a daughter married, and ‘a great part of the country’ expected to gather to the ceremony. He forbade the assemblage as dangerous, and enjoined that not above four or five should be present as witnesses; but James Murray would not listen to his remonstrances. When Sir John afterwards sent for him to press still further the necessity of having only a small company, James Murray proudly answered: ‘If ye be feared, come not there.’ Sir John then called on the bailies to commit him to prison, but ‘there was no obedience given thereto;’ and next day, when the marriage took place, ‘there was about four or five score persons who met and drank together all that day till night.’—P. C. R.

July 23.

The intrusion of a service-book or liturgy, upon the Scottish Church has been alluded to in the introduction to the present section. There was an almost universal unwillingness, even among the friends of the reigning system, to give efficacy to the royal orders; for it was seen that the congregations would not calmly see this innovation effected. It was resolved, however, that on Sunday the 23d of July the book should be used in the cathedral of Edinburgh—the ‘Great Church’ of St Giles—where the privy councillors, including the bishops and the lords of session, as well as the city magistrates, usually attended worship, besides a large congregation of the upper class of citizens.

1637.

To pursue the narrative of a contemporary:—‘How soon as Dr George Hanna, dean of Edinburgh, who was to officiate that day, had opened the service-book, a number of the meaner sort of people, most of them waiting-maids and women, who use in that town to keep places for the better sort, with clapping of their hands, cursings, and outcries, raised such an uncouth noise and hubbub in the church, that not any one could either hear or be heard. The gentlewomen did fall a tearing and crying that the mass was entered amongst them, and Baal in the church. There was a gentleman standing behind a pew and answering “Amen” to what the dean was reading; a she-zealot, hearing him, starts up in choler: “Traitor,” says she, “does thou say mass at my ear!” and with that struck him on the face with her Bible in great fury.

‘The bishop of Edinburgh, Mr David Lindsay, stepped into the pulpit, above the dean, intending to appease the tumult, minding them of the place where they were, and entreating them to desist from profaning it. But he met with as little reverence (albeit with more violence) as the dean had found;[72] for they were more enraged, and began to throw at him stools, and their very Bibles, and what arms were in the way of [their] fury. It is reported that he hardly escaped the blow of a stool, which one present diverted. Nor were their tongues idler than their hands. Upon this, John Spottiswoode, archbishop of St Andrews, then Lord Chancellor, and some others, offering to assist the bishop in quelling the multitude, were made partners of the suffering of all these curses and imprecations which they began to pray to the bishops and their abettors. The archbishop, finding himself unable to prevail with the people, was forced to call down from their gallery the provost and bailies and others of the town-council of Edinburgh, who at length, with much tumult and confusion, thrust the unruly rabble out of the church, and made fast the church doors.

1637.

‘The multitude being removed, the dean falls again to read, in presence of the better sort who stayed behind; but all this while, those who had been turned out of doors, kept such a quarter with clamours without, and rapping at the church doors, and pelting the windows with stones, as that the dean might once more be interrupted. This put the bailies once more to the pains to come down from their seat, and interpose with the clamorous multitude to make them quiet. In the midst of these clamours, the service was brought to an end; but the people’s fury was not a whit settled; for after the bishop had stepped up into the pulpit and preached, and the congregation dismissed, the bishop of Edinburgh retiring to his lodging not far distant from the church, was environed and set upon with a multitude of the meaner people, cursing him and crowding about him, that he was in danger of his life, and to be trodden down amongst the people; and having recovered the stairs of his lodging, he no sooner began to go up, but he was pulled so rudely by the sleeve of his gown that he was like to have fallen backwards. Nor was he in more security, having gotten to the top of the stairs; for the door he did find shut against him, and so was at a stand, likely to have been oppressed, had not the Earl of Wemyss, who from the next lodging saw the bishop in danger, sent his servants for to rescue him, who got him at last, breathless, and in much amazement, into his lodging.’—Gordon’s Hist. of Scots Affairs.

Tradition in modern times has represented an herb-woman, named Jenny Geddes, as the heroine who more especially cast her stool at the bishop. Wodrow, however, has given us a different account in his Analecta. ‘It is,’ says he, ‘a constantly believed tradition, that it was Mrs Mean, wife to John Mean, merchant in Edinburgh, that cast the first stool when the service-book was read in the New Kirk, Edinburgh, 1637; and that many of the lasses that carried on the fray were prentices in disguise, for they threw stools to a great length.’ Mrs Mean had been the subject of a relenting and humane act on the part of the government. When her husband was under restraint for nonconformity in 1624, he was liberated on a petition setting forth the delicate state of his wife’s health, in order that he might be enabled to return to Edinburgh and attend upon her.[73]

1637.

‘After this Sunday’s wark, the haill kirk doors of Edinburgh was lockit, and no more preaching heard [for four or five weeks]. The zealous puritans flockit ilk Sunday to hear devotion in Fife; syne returned to their houses.’—Spal.

July.

The poor and scattered success of the new liturgy is quaintly dwelt on by a nobleman who took a leading part in the proceedings for obtaining its abrogation. ‘Sundry bishops,’ he says, ‘did establish [the service-book] at their cathedrals, as the bishop of Ross in the Chanrie, Brechin at the kirk of Brechin, Dunblane at Dunblane. It was not fully practised at St Andrews; only a few of the prayers were read by the archdeacon, and having no assistance, left the same, after a few months’ practice of a part of it only. The minister of Brechin, Mr Alexander Bisset, would not practise it; but the bishop read it by his own servant. At Dunblane, the ordinary minister, Mr Pearson, a corrupt worldling, read it ... yet did the said Pearson, after consideration of the general dislike of the service-book, at a meeting of the small barons of Strathearn, subscribe the supplication against the service-book, as the Laird of Kippenross. At Chanrie, it was read by one appointed by the bishop. Except these places, it was not entered nor practised in no place in Scotland; except Dr Scrimgeour at St Fillans read it, and neither being dextrous, nor having any to assist him, as it began to be discountenanced, he dishaunted it. Also in Dingwall in Ross, one Mr Murdo Mackenzie, under censure for divers heinous and foul crimes, practised the same, to obtain remission of his offences. Certain prayers were also read in the New College at St Andrews, some of these that are not themselves corrupt, though joined with the rest—and this obedience given by that fearful man, Dr Howie, who hath fallen back from the truth of his first profession.’[74]

REIGN OF CHARLES I.: 1637-1649.

It was a terrible and most exciting crisis for Scotland, when the people found themselves constrained by all they held sacred to resist their sovereign. Revering the institution of monarchy, and long accustomed to yield to the powerful king of Great Britain a deference which had neither been asked by nor paid to the sovereign of their own rude and inferior state, nothing could have brought them into such an attitude but their anxiety for the avoidance of soul-endangering errors. Even after the riots of July—such was the unwillingness to adopt strong measures—they might have been induced to remain at peace under bishops and Perth articles, if the king had been so far well counselled as at once and gracefully to withdraw the Service-book. So might a moderate Episcopacy have been preserved in Scotland, and the Civil War itself avoided or postponed. The king unfortunately determined to persevere in his unlucky course. The consequence was that the great mass of the people, including many of the nobility and gentry, was led into measures, at first of protestation, and latterly of resistance. There was indeed a district in the north-east where Episcopacy was the favourite system. In some other places, papist nobles exercised a limited local influence. The Highlanders were an uninstructed people, with no religious predilections. But in the Lowland provinces generally, a people far from void of intelligence were intensely earnest in favour of their old simple forms of worship and model of church-government. In the agitation of the subject during a few months, their prepossessions acquired a strength and fervour which never had been known before. It were quite impossible for any individual of our cool and temperate age, to form an adequate idea of the earnest feelings of the men who now arrayed themselves against Charles’s Episcopal innovations, without a careful perusal of the numberless documents in which these feelings found expression.

In the latter part of 1637, the Service-book not being withdrawn, four committees, called Tables, respectively representing the nobles, gentry, clergy, and burgesses, met in Edinburgh to concert measures for giving it an effective resistance. When it became evident, in the ensuing February, that the king was obdurate, the Tables framed a National Covenant, binding all who should sign it to spare nothing which might save their religion. It was signed by a large majority of the people, in a paroxysm of enthusiasm beyond all example in our history. The king, at length alarmed, sent the Marquis of Hamilton (June 1638) as a commissioner to treat with the Covenanters; and he soon after was induced to offer concessions far beyond what would have been grasped at a twelvemonth before—namely, to withdraw the Service-book and an equally unpopular Book of Canons, to abrogate the Court of High Commission, and place the Perth articles on a footing of indifferency. But while the people at large were at first disposed to be at peace on these terms, the leaders were by this time influenced with higher views. Feeling their power, they now hoped by perseverance to obtain a complete abolition of Episcopacy. Accordingly, when the matter came to be debated in a General Assembly of the Church, which sat at Glasgow in November, the royal commissioner proved unable to keep them within moderate bounds. On his formally dissolving the Assembly, they sat still under a clerical president, until they had deposed the bishops and declared Episcopacy wholly at an end.

The king, notwithstanding that a respect for his person and rule was still professed, could not acquiesce in a movement so contrary to the policy he had so long maintained, and which interfered so violently with his own religious convictions. He began to prepare an army for the subjugation of the Covenanters. They on their part made ready for an armed resistance, not professedly to their sovereign, but to the statesmen who guided his counsels. By a great effort, he got together twenty thousand men, and (May 1639) led them towards the Border. A fleet, having a few thousand troops on board, at the same time entered the Firth of Forth, under the command of the Marquis of Hamilton. Under their nobles, gentry, and clergy, the Scots mustered forces to defend their shores from the fleet, to meet the anti-Covenanting party in the north, and to oppose the king at the Border. To the number of about twenty thousand men, commanded by Sir Alexander Leslie, an experienced officer from the German wars, they took post on Dunse Law, while the king advanced with his army towards the Tweed. What with constant praying, preaching, and fasting, it was such a camp as perhaps never existed before or since. The king, seeing their resolution and discipline, and feeling that he had but slack support from his own army, was induced to offer a pacification. He could not sanction the acts of a General Assembly which had defied his authority; but he proposed that everything should Be submitted to another such body sitting under his representative, and to a subsequent parliament. His hope was that time and his personal influence with the leaders might bring things to some passable issue. At the worst, he should meanwhile prepare a greater army for enforcing subjection.

The new General Assembly and the parliament met in the course of summer (1639) under royal commissioners, but with only the effect of formally affirming the abolition of Episcopacy. The king accordingly resolved on a second expedition against the Scots. After trying in vain to induce an English parliament to grant supplies, he obtained some assistance from a convocation of the English clergy, and from a number of friends among the gentry. He calculated much on the public fortresses of Scotland being now in his hands, and on the zeal of a small loyal party. All his hopes were frustrated. In the early part of 1640, the Scots mustered a second army as good as his own. They succeeded in seizing the most of the fortresses. His expectations of co-operation from the loyalists in Aberdeenshire proved fallacious. The attention of a patriotic party in England was now hopefully fixed on the proceedings of the Scots. The truth is, Charles was leading the army of a party of his English subjects through a country generally disaffected to his policy, against a country altogether hostile. In such circumstances, a great blow to his authority was inevitable.

The Covenanters did not now deem it necessary to confine themselves to a defence of their own borders. They crossed the Tweed with a gallant army (August 28, 1640), and advanced on the Tyne. After a smart action, in which they were victorious, they crossed that river, and took possession of Newcastle. With a disaffected army, and all but a few zealots muttering around him, the king could only come a second time to a convention, but now it was upon less favourable terms than before. It was arranged that a new parliament should be called in England for the settlement of the affairs of the kingdom, and that meanwhile the Scottish army should remain in the north under English pay; thus the patriotic party calculated on having a guard to protect them while reforming the state. Efforts were made to raise resentment against the Scots as invaders of the English territory; but the Scots took care, by their published declarations, to shew that they solely aimed at the preservation of the religious forms which had long before been established among them, and that they desired nothing more than the friendship of the English people. Among the English themselves, objections to Episcopal authority and a formal style of worship had been advancing since early in the reign of Elizabeth; giving rise to what was called the Puritanic party. English Puritans, aiming at the same objects as the Scottish Covenanters, readily gave them their sympathy. Thus it was with the cordial concurrence of a large portion of the English nation that the Covenanters rested under arms in England.

The parliament which now sat down, and which was not to rise again for eleven years, proceeded to take into consideration a number of grievances under which the country was considered as having suffered during the king’s reign. His prime advisers, Laud, archbishop of Canterbury, and the Earl of Strafford, were imprisoned. Other ministers of the king—opprobriously styled Malignants—were obliged to fly from the kingdom. It became evident that the church itself was in danger. Strafford, after a trial in which it has never been pretended that he got fair-play, was (May 1641) condemned and beheaded. While thus sorely pressed by his English parliament, Charles began to think that his Scottish subjects might be conciliated so as to become his friends, and perhaps to some degree his partisans. In August 1641, he revisited Edinburgh, in order to preside at a meeting of the Estates; and there he sanctioned all the measures they had themselves taken, and distributed honours and rewards among the Covenanting leaders. He spent three months in Edinburgh, doing all in his power to cultivate the affections of the Covenanters, and apparently with success, though there were not wanting some troubles, occasioned by a small loyalist party, who wished to act more energetically in his behalf than was convenient for him. He at length returned, as he said, a contented prince from a contented people. Before this time, the Scottish army had been satisfied of their pay by the English parliament, and had returned from Newcastle, and been disbanded.

While the king still remained in Scotland (November 1641), intelligence arrived of a frightful outbreak of the Catholics in Ireland, and the dreadful vengeance executed by them upon their Protestant fellow-subjects. Ten thousand Scottish troops were quickly mustered, and sent over to assist in preserving the king’s authority in that country.

The arbitrary rule which King Charles had exercised down to 1637, had in four years been brought low in both Scotland and England. A severe lesson had been read to him, if he had had the wisdom to profit by it. After such a struggle, it is not easy, either for the monarch to rest corrected, or for his subjects to make moderate uses of their victory. Bigoted views on his part as to both state and church, fostered by the support of a loyal party more generous than wise; a strong sense in the patriotic or parliamentary party that the king and his friends would resume the system of arbitrary authority if possible, and use it mercilessly against all who had taken part in the late movements; made it in a manner impossible that things should rest at the point now attained. Accordingly, soon after the return of the king to London, the popular party in the English parliament presented to him their famous Remonstrance, recapitulating all the errors of his past government, and recommending that he should put himself into the hands of ministers who enjoyed the confidence of the people. His imperious spirit, strengthened by his hopes of support in Scotland, refused to yield to such counsels. When he made his unfortunate attempt (January 1642) to seize the five leading patriots in the House of Commons, the distrust of the parliament was completed, and reconciliation became impossible. The king had for some time contemplated warlike means of recovering his lost ground; but it was not till the bishops had been impeached, and he had been asked to surrender the command of the militia to the parliament, that he raised his standard at Nottingham (August 1642), with the support of a large body of loyal gentry.

In this civil war, the Scottish nation had no formal reason or pretext for joining on one side or the other; but their sympathies and interests were all engaged in behalf of the parliamentary cause. When the first two campaigns, therefore, made it seem likely that the king would be triumphant, they naturally felt some uneasiness, as fearful that if he should put down the parliament, their recovered liberties and reinstated church would be in danger. The temptation to assist the English patriots thus became irresistible. A set of commissioners from the English parliament came into Scotland to court its alliance; they were instructed to give the Scottish nation hopes that, in the event of success against the king, the Presbyterian model should supersede the Episcopalian both in England and Ireland. With the enthusiastic conceptions the Scots then had of the value of Presbyterianism, as the only pure and saving vehicle of the gospel, they were unable to resist this bait, though it was after all put into an ambiguous shape. Their Estates, accordingly, entered into what was called a Solemn League and Covenant with the English parliament (August 1643), one of the provisions of which engaged them to send an army against the king. Eighteen thousand foot and three thousand horse, to be supported by English pay at the rate of £30,000 a month, crossed the Tweed in the depth of winter (January 1644). With a view to gratify and encourage them, their enemy, Laud, was taken from his prison in the Tower, tried, and sent to the block—a piece of political revenge merely, as the old man was unable to have done any one further harm. Joining the parliamentary troops at York, the Scots assisted materially in gaining the important victory of Marston Moor, from which the king’s party never entirely recovered. They also besieged and took Newcastle, preserving a laudable moderation in their triumph. The season ended with a marked depression of the royal cause.

While affairs in Scotland were wholly managed by a Committee of the Estates and the Commission of the kirk, several of the nobles and the inhabitants of certain districts, chiefly in the Highlands, formed a tacitly royalist party. The young Earl of Montrose, raised to the rank of marquis, and invested by the king with a commission, set up the royal standard in Perthshire (August 1644), and was soon surrounded, by three thousand men, part of whom were Irish papists. Montrose was a man of extraordinary genius, with conceptions far beyond his narrow sphere. Originally a zealous Covenanter, he had changed when he thought the king too hard pressed by his subjects. A generous loyalty and romantic heroism enabled him to perform wonderful exploits; but it is at the same time to be owned that he was fearfully unscrupulous about plunder and the shedding of blood. With his ill-armed followers, he overthrew a carefully embodied army of militia, of twice his number, at Tippermuir (September 1644). Then marching to Aberdeen, he defeated a second army under Lord Burleigh, and entering the city, subjected it to a pillage even severer than any he had inflicted on it as a Covenanter. The Marquis of Argyle pursued him round the Highlands without gaining any advantage. Suddenly breaking off his course, he invaded Argyleshire in the depth of winter, and ravaged it without mercy, killing a great number of the men fit to bear arms. The Marquis of Argyle came to revenge this frightful proceeding at Inverlochy, but was there defeated with immense slaughter (February 1645). Montrose then made a deliberate march through Inverness-shire, Moray, Banffshire, and the east coast, using fire and sword wherever the king’s cause was not at once acknowledged and supported. It was a warfare such as had not taken place in England since the contentions of the Roses, and strongly marks the lower civilisation of Scotland at this date. At Dundee, he received a check from a Covenanting army under General Baillie, and with some difficulty succeeded in obtaining a refuge in the mountains. Descending again to the plains in Nairnshire, he defeated with great slaughter a small army under Colonel Urry at Auldearn; soon after, he in like manner overthrew Baillie’s forces at Alford. He was now confident enough to promise King Charles the speedy recovery of Scotland; and the king, finding his affairs becoming more and more discouraging in England, was inclined to trust to this promise, and migrate northward. Montrose, however, only distressed his country; he did not conquer or convert it to loyalty. He never accomplished any solid or permanent advantage, but was as much the mere guerrilla chief at the last as at the first. One other victory, gained over a large militia force at Kilsyth (August 1645), left him without any apparent opposition in Scotland. Yet within a few weeks (September 13), he was completely defeated at Philiphaugh, in Selkirkshire, by a body of horse detached under David Leslie from the Scottish army in England; and he was soon after obliged to retire to the continent. Montrose’s course was like that of a meteor, which alarms and excites wonder, but passes without leaving any tangible effects.

Meanwhile the battle of Naseby and the second battle of Newbury had left the king’s cause in a hopeless condition, and at the close of 1645, he was scarcely able to keep the field. It was now absolutely necessary for him to make peace with his subjects, if he hoped to retain even a nominal power or place in the state, and, seeing that the resources of the pure royalists had proved insufficient for his support, his best course would have been to place himself in the hands of the party next in the sentiment of regard for his person. This was the party of Presbyterians, as distinguished from a more extreme party, which had latterly sprang into importance in England, under the name of Independents, who professed to support a primitive form of Christianity without any ecclesiastical organisation whatever. The Presbyterians hated Episcopacy; but they were not averse to a moderate or limited monarchy; while the Independents were generally of republican principles. Charles, unfortunately a bigot for Episcopacy, could not bring himself to sanction the Presbyterian model, even for a limited time on trial. He hoped to bring out a better issue for himself by the dangerous game of playing off the various parties against each other. Having thus lost a good opportunity of treating, he was obliged, in May 1646, to take refuge with the Scottish army at Newark.

Whatever may be thought of the conduct of the Scots in entering into the Solemn League and Covenant, and sending troops against a sovereign who had so thoroughly redressed their own national grievances, there can be no reasonable doubt that they were prompted on that occasion by a pure zeal for their church establishment, and a sympathy with those of the neighbouring nation who desired to be equally free from the rule of bishops. But it cannot be denied that in engaging themselves to ‘endeavour, without respect of persons, the extirpation of popery, prelacy, superstition, heresy, schism, profaneness, and whatsoever shall be contrary to sound doctrine’—for such are the terms of the League—they had wholly changed the nature of their policy. From a laudable defence of cherished institutions of their own, menaced with danger, they passed into a very questionable system of propagandism and aggression. It might be said that they were committing the same mistake as King Charles had done in his original policy towards themselves, going against the religious traditions and prepossessions of a people; for, while Puritans and Independents had an apparent ascendency in England, ‘the church,’ nursed by the blood of martyrs, and endeared by long habit, had still a great hold on the bulk of the English nation. Success in such a movement, if it could by any be considered as deserved, was scarcely by common sense to be expected. As if in natural punishment for a great error, nothing had gone well with the Scots ever since. An Assembly of Divines, including commissioners from Scotland, had sat at Westminster for two years, in deliberation on the proper ecclesiastical system and articles of faith to be adopted by both nations; and its decision was substantially for the Presbyterian forms and Calvinistic doctrines so much beloved in the north. But the English House of Commons could never be induced to take any active measures for imposing this decision on the nation, doubtless feeling that it was not generally acceptable. Pure presbytery never came into true operation except in London and in Lancashire. To the Scottish leaders, who had been accustomed to impose and enforce doctrine upon all recusants in their own country, this slackness seemed inexcusable, and occasioned the deepest disappointment. They also found that their army, after the first useful service at Marston Moor, was comparatively neglected in England, and its pay allowed to fall into arrear. Themselves courted at first as allies, they had latterly been little inquired for or consulted; their advices and their remonstrances were alike overlooked. Sternest punishment of all, while their best troops were kept idle and half mendicant in England, Montrose avenged the king’s sense of injury by sweeping their defenceless provinces with the besom of destruction, and putting thousands of hastily armed citizens to the sword. It was a most melancholy result of a movement entered on, as they in all sincerity protested, purely for the glory of God.

There still remained an event most unfortunate for Scotland before the war could be concluded. The arrears of pay due by the English parliament to the Scottish army had been allowed to run up to £1,400,000. The House of Commons tried to abate the sum to a comparative trifle, but ultimately (August 1646) agreed to pay £400,000, the one half immediately, after which the Scots were to retire into their own country. But, meanwhile, the Scots were awkwardly placed by the king being in their camp. If he had agreed to the propositions of the parliament, all would have been well, for then he would have proceeded in peace and honour to London. As he could not be induced to assent to these propositions, a question arose between the two nations as to the disposal of his person. The English parliament affected the sole right to deal with it. The Scottish Estates could not agree to this; but as they were not disposed to take up the king’s cause against the English—and, indeed, such a step would have been ruinous—it was not easy for them on any terms or understanding to retain him within their grasp. After much troublesome negotiation, they were induced by some of the leading English Presbyterians to give up the king, in order to facilitate the disbanding of the English army, which latterly was manifesting a refractory spirit. There was scarcely a relation, if any, between the receiving of the arrears of pay and the surrender of the king; nevertheless, as the events took place about the same time, they have become connected in popular conception, to the discredit of the Scottish name. It will be ages before the English commonalty ceases to believe that the Scots sold their king, and for slaughter too, although such a tragical end for his life was certainly not dreamed of by anybody till long after.

The king being now a captive, and his friends reduced to silence, the English parliament set themselves to two objects—a re-establishment of the royal authority on suitable terms, and the disbanding of the army. The king’s obstinacy defeated the one object; the growth of sectarianism in the army balked the other. Charles hoped to thrive by the disunion of these two bodies, and coquetted with both. The army seized his person; but he afterwards escaped, and fell under the care of a kind of neutral power, in the person of the governor of Carisbrook Castle, in the Isle of Wight. The Scots, hating sectarianism, still maintained a modified loyalty. Under the influence of the Duke of Hamilton and a few other nobles, who had come to an understanding or engagement with the king regarding a possible restoration of his authority, the Estates in spring 1648 raised an army in his behalf, thus renewing the Civil War; and with this movement the remaining English loyalists concurred. The more zealous Presbyterians of Scotland denounced it on that account, notwithstanding many plausible pretences set forth in its favour. The English Presbyterians gave it their good-will, but could do little in its behalf. In July, a too hastily prepared army of 15,000 Scots entered England under the command of Hamilton, and proceeded as far as Preston, while a small army of English loyalists marched near by, but, for the sake of appearances, carefully abstained from a junction. A portion of the English army, under Oliver Cromwell, attacked the small body of loyalists and destroyed it; then met and overthrew the Scottish army; soon after which, the Duke of Hamilton was taken prisoner. Cromwell came to Edinburgh, and fraternised with the more zealous Presbyterian leaders, who had by that time resumed an ascendency. Then, returning as a victor to London, with no force to oppose him in any part of the island, he joined with a number of other men of his own stamp, in putting an end to the English monarchy. In January 1649, the king was tried for the alleged crime of raising war upon his subjects, and publicly beheaded.

1637. July.

Till the occurrence of the tumult this month, there was, according to the confession of Clarendon, so little curiosity felt in England, either in the court or country, ‘to know anything of Scotland, or what was done there, that, when the whole nation was solicitous to know what passed weekly in Germany, Poland, and other parts of Europe, no man ever inquired what was doing in Scotland, nor had that kingdom a place or mention in one page of any gazette.’

Oct. 3.

1637.

This day began a fall of rain in Moray-land, of ten days’ continuance, and attended by effects which remind us of the celebrated flood of 1829; ‘waters and burns flowing up over bank and brae; corn-mills and mill-houses washen down; houses, kilns, cots, faulds wherein beasts were keipit, all destroyed. The corns, weel stacked, began to moch[75] and rot till they were casten over again. Lamentable to see, and whereof the like was never seen before.... There were four ships lying at anchor in the harbour of Aberdeen; in one of which ships Major Ker and Captain Lumsden had a number of soldiers. Through a great spate[76] of the water of Dee, occasioned by this extraordinary rain, thir haill four ships brake loose, for neither tow nor anchor could hold them, and were driven out at the water mouth, upon the night, and by a south-east wind were driven to the north shore, where thir ships were miserably bladded [beaten] with leaks by striking upon the sands. The soldiers, sleeping carelessly in the bottom of the ship upon heather, were all in a swim, to their great amazement and dread. They got up, with horrible crying and shouting; some escaped, other some pitifully perished. About the number of fourscore and twelve soldiers were wanting, drowned or got away.’—Slightly altered from Spalding.

Oct. 19.

A quantity of gold had been brought into the kingdom by ‘the adventurers of Guinee.’ It was ordered to be formed into coin by Nicolas Briot and John Falconer, masters of the cunyie-house, according to the arrangements ordered by the Privy Council in April 1625.—P. C. R. Some gold subsequently brought from the same country to England by the African Company, ‘administered the first occasion,’ as Clarendon tells us, ‘for the coinage of those pieces which, from thence, had the denomination of guineas.’[77]

The digging of gold in Guinea is connected in a melancholy way with Scotland, for fifteen hundred of the Scottish prisoners taken at Worcester in September 1651, were granted to the Guinea merchants, ‘to be transported to Guinea to work in the mines there.’[78]

Dec. 4.

In the night arose ‘ane horrible high wind,’ which blew down the rafters of the choir of Elgin Cathedral, left without the slates eighty years before. This fact reminds us how much of the destruction of our ancient ecclesiastical buildings was owing, not to actual or immediate damage at the Reformation, but to neglect afterwards.

Dec. 26.

1637.

This day, in consequence of the late inundation and storms, a bar made its appearance athwart the mouth of the river Dee, ‘mixed with marble, clay, and stones.’ The contemplation of so fatal a stoppage to their harbour threw the citizens of Aberdeen into a state of the greatest anxiety. ‘They fell to with fasting, praying, preaching, mourning, and weeping all day and night. Then they went out with spades, shools, mattocks, and mells, in great numbers, men and women, young and old, at low-water, to cast down this dreadful bar; but all for nought, for as fast as they cast down at a low-water, it gathered again as fast at a full sea.’ The people had resigned themselves to despair, when ‘the Lord, of his great mercy, without help of mortal man, removed and swept clean away this fearful bar, and made the water mouth to keep its own course, as it was before.’—Slightly altered from Spalding.

1637-8.

On the hill of Echt, in Aberdeenshire, famous for its ancient fortification called the Barmkyn of Echt, there was heard, almost every night, all this winter, a prodigious beating of drums, supposed to foretell the bloody civil wars which soon after ensued. The parade and retiring of guards, their tattoos, their reveilles, and marches, were all heard distinctly by multitudes of people. ‘Ear-witnesses, soldiers of credit, have told me,’ says Gordon of Rothiemay, ‘that when the parade was beating, they could discern when the drummer walked towards them, or when he turned about, as the fashion is for drummers, to walk to and again, upon the head or front of a company drawn up. At such times, also, they could distinguish the marches of several nations; and the first marches that were heard there were the Scottish March; afterwards, the Irish March was heard; then the English March. But before these noises ceased, those who had been trained up much of their lives abroad in the German wars, affirmed that they could perfectly, by their hearing, discern the marches upon the drum of several foreign nations of Europe—such as the French, Dutch, Danish, &c. These drums were so constantly heard, that all the country people next adjacent were therewith accustomed; and sometimes these drummers were heard off that hill, in places two or three miles distant. Some people in the night, travelling near by the Loch of Skene, within three mile of that hill, were frighted with the loud noise of drums, struck hard by them, which did convoy them along the way, but saw nothing; as I had it often from such as heard these noises, from the Laird of Skene and his lady, from the Laird of Echt, and my own wife then living in Skene, almost immediately after the people thus terrified had come and told it. Some gentlemen of known integrity and truth affirmed that, near these places, they heard as perfect shot of cannon go off as ever they heard at the battle of Nordlingen, where themselves some years before had been present.’[79]

1638. Feb. 8 or 9.

By order of the king, in consideration of the rebellious proceedings in Edinburgh, ‘the session sat down in Stirling. Ye may guess if the town of Edinburgh was angry or not.’—Chron. Perth.

Feb. 28.

1633.

This day commenced at Edinburgh the signing of that National Covenant which for some years exercised so strong an influence over the affairs of Scotland. Public feeling, as far as the great bulk of the people was concerned, had been wrought up to a paroxysm of anxiety and enthusiasm regarding the preservation of the Presbyterian model. An eternal interest was supposed to depend on their not allowing their religion to be assimilated to that of England, and, weighed against this, everything else looked mean and of no account. After the document had been subscribed by the congregation at the Greyfriars’ Church, before whom it was first presented, it went through the city, every one contesting who might be first, many blindly following the example of others—not only men, but ‘women, young people, and servants did swear and hold up their hands to the Covenant.’ Many copies, written out on parchment, and signed by the leading nobles, were carried into the country, and laid before the people of the several towns and districts. ‘The greater that the number of subscribents grew,’ says the parson of Rothiemay, ‘the more imperious they were in exacting subscriptions from others who refused to subscribe; so that by degrees they proceeded to contumelies, and exposing of many to injuries and reproaches, and some were threatened and beaten who durst refuse, especially in greatest cities.... Gentlemen and noblemen carried copies of it about in their portmantles and pockets, requiring subscriptions thereto, and using their utmost endeavours with their friends in private for to subscribe.... All had power to take the oath, and were licensed and welcome to come in.... Such was the zeal of many subscribents, that, for a while, many subscribed with tears on their cheeks; and it is constantly reported that some did draw their own blood, and used it in place of ink to underwrite their names. Such ministers as spoke for it were heard so passionately and with such frequency, that churches could not contain their hearers in cities; some of the devouter sex (as if they had kept vigils) keeping their seats from Friday to Sunday, to get the communion given them sitting; some sitting alway let before such sermons in the churches, for fear of losing a room or place of hearing; or at the least some of their handmaids sitting constantly there all night till their mistresses came to take up their places and to relieve them; so that several (as I heard from very sober and credible men) under that religious confinement, were——These things will scarce be believed, but I relate them upon the credit of such as knew this to be truth.’

The Rev. John Livingstone says: ‘I was present at Lanark, and at several other parishes, when, on a Sabbath, after the forenoon sermon, the Covenant was read and sworn, and may truly say that in all my lifetime, except one day at the Kirk of Shotts, I never saw such motions from the Spirit of God; all the people generally and most willingly concurring; where I have seen more than a thousand persons all at once lifting up their hands, and the tears falling down from their eyes.’

Maitland, describing the Edinburgh copy of the Covenant, says: ‘It is written on a parchment of the length of four feet, and the depth of three feet eight inches, and is so crowded with names on both sides, that there is not the smallest space left for more. It appears that, when there was little room left to sign on, the subscriptions were shortened by only inserting the initials of the Covenanters’ names; which the margin and other parts are so full of, and the subscriptions so close, that it were a difficult task to number them. However, by a cursory view, I take them to be about five thousand in number.—Hist. Ed.

Apr.

The household book of the Dowager-countess of Mar[80] commencing at this time, and running on for several years, affords a few rays of scattered light regarding the domestic life of the aristocracy of the period.[81] They are not susceptible of being worked up to any general effect, and the reader must therefore take them as they occur.

1638.

‘April 21, to ane little boy for two buiks of the Covenant, 12s.[82] May 4, for pressing ane red scarlet riding-coat for John the Bairn s. May 16, to ane blind singer who sang the time of dinner, 12s. May 17, ane quire paper, 5s. May 18, to ane of the nourices who dwells at the Muir, who came to thig [beg], 29s. May 25, for ane belt to Lord James [an elder grandson of the countess], 18s.; for ane powder-horn to him, 4s. 6d.; for raisins to Lord James and Charles, 10s. June, to William Shearer his wife for ane pair hose to Lord James, £3. Paid for contribution to the Confederat Lords, £4. To ane old blind man as my lady came from prayers, 4s. Edinburgh, July 18, for a periwig to Lord James, £8, 2s. July 19, ane pound and ane half pound of candles, 6s. July 21, ane pound raisins to keep the fasting Sunday, 6s. 8d. July 27, given to the kirk brodd [board], as my lady went to sermon in the High Kirk, 6s. Stirling, August 17, to my lady to give to the French lacquey that served my Lord Erskine when he went back to France, 4s. August 25, sent to my lady, to play with the Lady Glenurchy after supper, 4s. September 1, for making a chest [coffin] to Katherine Ramsay, who deceased the night before, 20s.; for two half pounds tobacco ane eighteen pipes to spend at her lykewake, 21s.; to the bellman that went through the town to warn to her burial, 12s.; to the makers of the graff, 12s. 4d. September 8, to twa Highland singing-women, at my lady’s command, 6s. September 23, to ane lame man callit Ross, who plays the plaisant, 3s. Paid for ane golf-club to John the Bairn, 5s. 9th November, to Andrew Erskine, to give to the poor at my lady’s onlouping, 12s. December, paid to John, that he gave to ane woman who brought ane dwarf by my lady, 12s. [Edinburgh], January 23, 1639, to my lady as she went to Lord Belhaven his burial, and to visit my Lady Hume, £5, 8s. February, to Charles [son of the countess], the night he was married, to give the poor, £5, 8s. 3d. February 23, paid for ane pound of raisins to my lady again’ the fasting Sunday, 8s. June 11, to Thom Eld, sent to Alloa for horses to take my lady’s children ane servants to the army then lying at the Border, 2s. Paid to the Lady Glenurchy for aqua-vitæ that she bought to my lady, 6s. Paid for carrying down the silver wark to the Council house, to be weighed ane delivered to the town-treasurer of Edinburgh, 10s.[83] August 23, paid for twa pair sweet gloves to Lord James and Mr Will. Erskine, £3. September 9, to Lord James to play at the totum with John Hamilton, 1s. 4d. To my lady as she went to dine with my Lord Haddington [for vails to the servants?], ane dollar and four shillings. Paid in contribution to Edward the fool, 12s. Paid to Gilbert Somerville, for making ane suit clothes to Lord James of red lined with satin, £7, 10s. November 29, paid to the Lady Glenurchy her man, for ane little barrel of aqua-vitæ, £3. May 27, 1640, to ane man who brought the parroquet her cage, 4s. June 15, to ane poor woman as my lady sat at the fishing, 6d. August, for tobacco to my lady’s use, 1s. March 4, 1641, to Blind Wat the piper that day, as my lady went to the Exercise, 4s. March 6, given to John Erskine to buy a cock to fight on Fasten’s Even [Shrovetide], 6s. June 8, to ane masterful beggar who did knock at the gate, my lady being at table, 2s. [It was then customary to lock the outer door during dinner.] November 15, [the countess having visited Edinburgh to see the king], given for two torches to lighten in my lady to court, to take her leave of the king, 24s. February 21, 1642, sent to Sir Charles Erskine to buy escorse de sidrone and marmolat, £5, 6s. 8d. March 21, to ane woman clairshocher [harper] who usit the house in my lord his time, 12s. August 10, to John Erskine to buy a bladder for trying a mathematical conclusion. December 7, paid for three white night-mutches [caps] to my Lord of Buchan, £3, 12s. January 13, 1643, for ane Prognostication [an almanac], 8d. February 17, for dressing ane red four-tailed coat of Mr William’s, 1s. 8d. February 13, to my lady in her own chamber, when the Valentines were a-drawing, £10, 12s. 4d. April 13, to Mr William Erskine, to go to the dwarf’s marriage, 7s. 6d.’

July 20.

While the generality of the Lowland people of Scotland were wrought up to the highest pitch of enthusiasm in favour of Presbyterianism, the inhabitants of Aberdeen and the surrounding district remained faithful to a moderate Episcopacy, and therefore disinclined to accept the Covenant. It was a crisis to make men impatient of dissent in a milder age than the seventeenth century. As men then felt about religion—perfectly assured that they themselves were right, and that dissent was perdition—this Aberdonian recusancy could look for no gentle treatment; and it met with none. The first assault, however, was not of a very deadly character.

1638.

It was under the leadership of the young Earl of Montrose—afterwards so energetic on the other side—that a Covenanting deputation came to Aberdeen with the bond into which most of the nation had entered. ‘The provost and bailies courteously salute them at their lodging, offers them wine and comfits, according to their laudable custom, for their welcome; but this their courteous offer was disdainfully refused, saying they would drink none with them while [till] first the Covenant was subscribed; whereat the provost and bailies were somewhat offended. Always they took their leave, [and] suddenly cause deal the wine in the Bede-house amang the puir men, whilk they so disdainfully had refused; whereof the like was never done to Aberdeen in no man’s memory.’—Spal.

This discourteous party included, besides the Earl of Montrose, Lord Arbuthnot, the Lairds of Morphy and Dun, and three ministers, Cant, Dickson, and Henderson. ‘Because they could not get entres to our church to preach, they went to the Earl of Marischal his close in the Castle Gate, and preached three sermons on Sunday, where they had such enticing sermons for the common people, that after ages will not believe it. I was both an eye and ear witness to them. At that time, they were [sae] cried up and doated upon, that the Laird of Leys (otherwise ane wise man) did carry Mr Andrew Cant his books. Yet at that time there was but very few that subscribed, only fourteen men, [including] Provost Lesly, ane ringleader, but afterwards he did repent it ... Alexander Jaffray, Alexander Burnet ... and some others, but not of great quality; for at this time, good reader, thou shalt understand that there was worthy preachers in Aberdeen, as Britain could afford.... Thir men had many disputes with the Covenanters, for they wrote against other plies, replies, duplies, thriplies, and quadruplies; but in all these disputes the Covenanters came as short to the ministers of Aberdeen as are grammarian to a divine.’—Ab. Re.

1638.

The Aberdeen doctors, as they were called, formed a remarkable body of men, learned much above Scotch divines in general, of that or any subsequent age. Dr John Forbes of Corse, professor of divinity; Dr William Leslie, principal and professor of divinity in King’s College; Dr Robert Barron, principal and professor of divinity in Marischal College; and Drs Scroggie, Sibbald, and Ross, ministers; were all prepared to defend the moderate Episcopacy against which the Covenanters were waging war; and there exists an unchallenged and uniform report of their having had the superiority in the argument, though all incompetent to stem the torrent of enthusiasm which had set in against them. It was under the dignified patronage and care of the late Bishop Patrick Forbes, that these men had grown up in Aberdeen, ‘a society more learned and accomplished than Scotland had hitherto known.’[84] Connected with them in locality were other men of talents and accomplishment—Arthur Johnston, John Leech, and David Wedderburn, all writers of elegant Latin poetry—thus adding to the reputation which Aberdeen enjoyed as a seat of learning, that of a favourite seat of the Muses. For some years this system of things had flourished at the northern city, amidst handsome collegiate buildings, tasteful churches, and scenes of elegant domestic life. One cannot reflect without a pang on the wreck it was destined to sustain under the rude shocks imparted by a religious enthusiasm which regarded nothing but its own dogmas, and for these sacrificed everything. The university sustained a visitation from the Presbyterian Assembly of 1640, and was thenceforth much changed. ‘The Assembly’s errand,’ says Gordon of Rothiemay, ‘was thoroughly done; these eminent divines of Aberdeen either dead, deposed, or banished; in whom fell more learning than was left in all Scotland beside at that time. Nor has that city, nor any city in Scotland, ever since seen so many learned divines and scholars at one time together as were immediately before this in Aberdeen. From that time forwards, learning began to be discountenanced; and such as were knowing in antiquity and in the writings of the fathers, were had in suspicion as men who smelled of popery; and he was most esteemed of, who affected novelism and singularity most; and the very form of preaching, as weel as the materials, was changed for the most part. Learning was nicknamed human learning, and some ministers so far cried it down in their pulpits, as they were heard to say: “Down doctrine, and up Christ!”’

Aug. 8.

1638.

As a characteristic incident of the period—an outlaw of the Macgregor clan, named John Dhu Ger, came this day with his associates to the lands of Stuart, Laird of Corse, in the upper vales of Aberdeenshire, and began to despoil them, pretending to be the king’s man, and that what he did was only justice, as against a rebellious Covenanter. ‘Wherever he came in Strylay and other places, he would take their horse, kine, and oxen, and cause the owners compound and pay for their own geir.... He took out of the Laird of Corse’s bounds a brave gentleman-tenant dwelling there, and carried him with him, and sent word to the laird, desiring him to send him a thousand pounds, whilk the lords of Council had given his name [the Stuarts of Athole] for taking of Gilderoy, or then he would send this man’s head to him. The Laird of Corse rode shortly to Strathbogie, and told the marquis, who quickly wrote to Macgregor, to send back Mr George Forbes again, or then he would come himself for him. But he was obeyed, and [Forbes] came to Strathbogie, haill and sound upon the 15th of August, but [without] payment of any ransom.’—Altered from Spalding.

‘This year was ane very dry year, for about the end of August all the corns was within the yards.’—Ab. Re.

Oct.

1638.

Amidst the excitement of the time, a young woman named Mitchelson, who had been subject to fits, attracted attention in Edinburgh by becoming a sort of prophetess or Pythoness of the Covenant. ‘She was acquainted with the Scripture, and much taken with the Covenant, and in her fits spoke much to its advantage, and much ill to its opposers, that would, or at least that she wished to befall them. Great numbers of all ranks of people were her daily hearers; and many of the devouter sex prayed and wept, with joy and wonder, to hear her speak. When her fits came upon her, she was ordinarily thrown upon a down bed, and there prostrate, with her face downwards, spoke such words as were for a while carefully taken from her mouth by such as were skilful in brachygraphy. She had intermissions of her discourses for days and weeks; and before she began to speak, it was made known through Edinburgh. Mr Harry Rollock [one of the clergymen of Edinburgh], who often came to see her, said that he thought it was not good manners to speak while his Master was speaking, and that he acknowledged his Master’s voice in her. Some misconstered her to be suborned by the Covenanters, and at least that she had nothing that savoured of a rapture, but only of memory, and that still she knew what she spoke, and, being interrupted in her discourse, answered pertinently to the purpose. Her language signified little: she spoke of Christ, and called him Covenanting Jesus; that the Covenant was approved from heaven; that the king’s covenant was Satan’s invention; that the Covenant should prosper, but the adherents to the king’s covenant should be confounded; and much other stuff of this nature, which savoured at best of senseless simplicity. The Earl of Airth, upon a time, getting a paper of her prophecies, which was inscribed, “that, such a day and such a year, Mrs Mitchelson awoke and spoke gloriously,” in place of the word “gloriously,” which he blotted out, writt over it the word “gowkedly” or foolishly, [and] was so much distested for a while among the superstitious admirers of this maid, that he had like to have run the fate of one of the bishops, by a charge with stones upon the street. But this blazing star quickly vanished....’[85]

There seems no reason to doubt that Mrs Mitchelson was a sincere young woman, but in an unsound nervous condition. Ecstatics like her are common in the Romish Church, in which case there is much tendency to visions of St Catherine, instead of ravings about the Covenant. From analogous cases of persons under hallucinations, the giving pertinent answers to ordinary questions, which Gordon adduces as a ground of doubt, does not necessarily infer that Mrs Mitchelson was a cunning woman playing a part.

1639. Feb.

The Earl of Montrose went about in the north country with a large armed band, forcing the Covenant upon those who were disinclined to sign it, and raising funds for the use of the Covenanting party. As it never once occurred to the ‘Tables’ that anybody could have a conscientious scruple on the subject, much less that any scruple called for respect and forbearance, force seemed quite fair as a means of attaining to uniformity. The city of Aberdeen, looking with apprehension to this kind of mission, ‘began to choose out captains, ensigns, sergeants, and other officers for drilling their men in the Links, and learning them to handle their arms;’ also ‘to big up their back yetts, close their ports, have their catbands in readiness, their cannons clear, and had ane strict watch day and night keepit.’—Spal. All this to battle off an Idea. Still they feared it might not be sufficient. So, looking to the victual they had against a siege, they began to cast ditches, and towards the south raised up timber sconces, clad with deals. They had eleven pieces of ordnance, each provided with a sconce, planted commodiously on the streets. In short, it was a town pretty well fortified, as such things were in those days, and no doubt the worthy citizens were in good hopes of resisting the storm of Christian reformation which was mustering against them. Alas!

1639.

It soon became evident to the poor Aberdonians that, however well their doctors might argue, the Covenant was not to be resisted. Dismayed at the accounts they got of large forces mustering against them, they abandoned all design of defence. All that the more notable friends of the king and church could do was to fly.

Spalding’s account of the entry of the Covenanting militia under Montrose and Leslie into Aberdeen is highly picturesque.

Mar. 30.

1839.

‘... they came in order of battle, weel armed both on horse and foot, ilk horseman having five shot at the least, ... ane carabine on his hand, two pistols by his sides, and two at his saddle-tore. The pikemen in their ranks [with] pike and sword; the musketeers in their ranks with musket, musket-staff, bandelier, sword, powder, ball, and match. Ilk company both on horse and foot had their captains, lieutenants, ensigns, sergeants, and other officers and commanders, all for the most part in buff coats and goodly order. They had five colours or ensigns.... They had trumpeters to ilk company of horsemen, and drummers to ilk company of footmen. They had their meat, drink, and other provision, bag and baggage, carried with them, done all by advice of his Excellency Field-marshal Leslie.... Few of this army wanted ane blue ribbon hung about his craig [neck] down under his left arm, whilk they called the Covenanter’s Ribbon.... [Having passed to the Links], muster being made, all men was commanded to go to breakfast, either in the Links or in the town. The general himself, the nobles, captains, commanders, for the most part, and soldiers, sat down, and of their awn provision, upon ane serviet on their knee, took their breakfast.’ Here was a sight for a poor town of Episcopalian prepossessions—eleven thousand men come to convert them to proper views! This was on Saturday: on the Tuesday, all persons of any note, and all persons in any authority in the city, were glad to come before the marching committee and subscribe and swear the Covenant, ‘albeit they had sworn the king’s covenant before.’ A week later, a solemn fast was kept; and after sermon by one of the marching clergy, the Covenant was read out, and he ‘causit the haill town’s people convened, who had not yet subscribed, to stand up before him in the kirk, both men and women, and the men subscribed this Covenant. Thereafter, both men and women was urged to swear by their uplifted hands to God, that they did subscribe and swear this Covenant willingly, freely, and from their hearts, and not from any fear or dread that could happen. Syne the kirk sealed and dissolved. But the Lord knows that thir town’s people were brought under perjury for plain fear, and not from a willing mind, by tyranny and oppression of thir Covenanters, who compelled them to swear and subscribe, suppose they knew it was against their hearts.’—Spal.

As a pleasant finale, to compensate in some degree for the trouble they had given, the citizens were laid under a contribution of ten thousand merks, besides being forced to promise their taking share in all expenses that might thereafter be necessary for promotion of the good cause.

May 25.

Aberdeen had not kept steady in the Covenanting faith—since so solemnly and sincerely signing the bond in April, it had maintained a loyal correspondence with the king. The Covenanters, now on the eve of their expedition to Dunse Law, had to take order with it; and as the movement at such a moment was inconvenient, they were in no good-humour. What happened, as described in the simple notes of the town-clerk Spalding, gives such a picture of civil war as it may be salutary to keep in mind.

‘They were estimate to 4000 men, foot and horse, by [besides] baggage-horse 300, having and carrying their provision, with thirteen field-pieces. They enterit the town at the over Kirkgate in order of battle, with sounding of trumpets, touting of drams, and displayed banners; went down through the Braid-gate, through the Castle-gate, and to the Queen’s Links march they.... Now Aberdeen began to groan and make sore lamentation at the incoming of this huge army, whom they were unable to sustein, or get meat to buy.

1639.

‘Upon the 26th, being Sunday, the Earl of Montrose, with the rest of the nobles, heard devotion; but the renegate soldiers, in time of both preachings, is abusing and plundering New Aberdeen pitifully, without regard to God or man. And in the meantime, garse and corn eaten and destroyed about both Aberdeens, without fear of the maledictions of the poor labourers of the ground.... The bishop’s servants saved his books, and other insight and plenishing, and hid them in neighbours’ houses of the town, from the violence of the soldiers, who brake down and demolishit all they could get within the bishop’s house, without making any great benefit to themselves.... Richt sae, the corns were eaten and destroyed by the horse of this great army, both night and day, during their abode. The salmon-fishers, both of Dee and Don, masterfully oppressed, and their salmon taken from them.... The country round about was pitifully plundered, meal girnels broken up, eaten, and consumed; no fowl, cock or hen, left unkilled. The haill house-dogs, messans, and whelps within Aberdeen, fellit and slain upon the gate, so that neither hound nor messan nor other dog was left that they could see. The reason was, when the first army came here, ilk captain, commander, servant, and soldier had ane blue ribbon about his craig [neck]; in despite and derision whereof, when they removed frae Aberdeen, some women, as was alleged, knit blue ribbons about their messans’ craigs, whereat their soldiers took offence, and killit all the dogs for this cause.

‘They took frae Aberdeen ten thousand merks to save it from plundering, and took twelve pieces of ordnance also from them.... The town, seeing themselves sore oppressed by the feeding and susteining of thir armies without payment, besides other slaveries, began heavily to regret their miseries to the general and rest of the nobles and commanders, saying they had subscribed the Covenant.... There was no compassion had to their complaints.... So the country anti-Covenanters was pitifully plagued and plundered in their victuals, fleshes, fowls, and other commodities, whilk bred great scarcity in this land....’

This was but a beginning of the troubles and damages of Aberdeen from civil war. In the very next month, in consequence of the town being taken possession of by a royalist band under the Earl of Aboyne, a Covenanting army came against it, and forcing its way in, subjected it to further fining and spoiling. Altogether, the Aberdonians considered themselves as having been injured to the extent of £12,000 sterling in the first half of this year, besides thirty-two of the citizens being fined specially in 42,000 merks. It would be tedious to enumerate the losses of the city during the few subsequent years.

May.

1639.

Gordon of Rothiemay notes a quasi prodigy as happening at Dunse Law while the Scottish army lay there. It has a whimsical character, as connecting the Covenanting war with a geological fact. The matter consisted of ‘the falling of a part of a bank upon the steep side of a hill near by to the Scottish camp, which of its own accord had shuffled downward, and by its fall discovered innumerable stones, round, for the most part, in shape, and perfectly spherical, some of them oval-shapen. They were of a dark gray colour, some of them yellowish, and for quantity they looked like ball of all sizes, from a pistol to field-pieces, such as sakers or robenets, or battering-pieces upwards. Smooth they were, and polished without, but lighter than lead by many degrees, so that they were only for show, but not for use. Many of them were carried about in men’s pockets, to be seen for the rarity. Nor wanted there a few who interpreted this stone magazine at Dunse Hill as a miracle, as if God had sent this by ane hid providence for the use of the Covenanters; for at this time all things were interpreted for the advantage of the Covenant. Others looked upon these pebble-stones as prodigious, and the wiser sort took no notice of them at all. I suppose that at this present the quarry is extant, where they are yet to be seen, no more a miracle; but whether the event has determined them to be a prodigy or not, I shall not take it upon me to define pro or con.’

A modern writer may feel little difficulty in defining this magazine of pebbles as merely part of an ancient alluvial terrace, such as are found in most mountain valleys in Scotland, being, in geological theory, the relics of gravel-beds deposited in these situations by the streams, when, from a lower relative position of the land, the sea partially occupied these glens in the form of estuaries. On the banks of the Whitadder, close to Dunse Law, we still see such banks of pebbles, the water-rolled spoils of the Lammermuirs, and chiefly of the transition or Silurian rocks. It gives a lively impression of the excited state of men’s minds in the time and place, to find them accepting, or disposed to accept, so simple a natural phenomenon as something significant of the attention of Providence to the strife which they were unhappily waging.

July.

At this time we hear of some strangers from England and Ireland who had crept in and drawn the people to certain religious practices, accordant with the general strain of the period, but not exactly with the specific regulations prescribed by the Presbyterian Kirk. At their own hands, without the allowance of minister or elders, the people had begun to convene themselves confusedly about bedtime in private houses, where, for the greater part of the night, they would expound Scripture, pray, and sing psalms, besides ‘discussing questions of divinity, whereof some sae curious that they do not understand, and some so ridiculous that they cannot be edified by them.’ The consequence was, that they began to ‘lichtly and set at naught the public worship of God.’ Seeing in this a movement towards Brownism, the kirk-session of Stirling called on the presbytery to take the matter into consideration, and meanwhile discharged the congregation from giving any favour to such practices.[86]

1639. Nov. 1.

Owing to the confusions, the Court of Session did not sit down as usual for the winter session to-day; ‘but was vacant the haill winter session, to the great grief of the true creditor, and the pleasure of the debtor unwilling to pay his debt.’—Spal.

Nov. 2.

A base coin called Turners had been struck by the Earl of Stirling under royal licence, and were to him a source of considerable gain, at the expense of the rest of the community. On the day marginally noted, ‘King Charles’s turners stricken by the Earl of Stirling, was, by proclamation at the Cross of Edinburgh, cryit down frae twa pennies to ane penny; King James’s turners to pass for twa pennies, because they were no less worth; and the caird turners[87] simpliciter discharged as false cunyie. But this proclamation was shortly recalled, because there was no other money passing to make change.’ April 1640.—‘You see before some order taken with the passing of turners, whereof some was appointit to pass for ane penny. Now they would give nothing, penny nor half-penny, for King Charles’s turners; but King James’s turners only should pass. Whereby all change and trade was taken away through want of current money, because thir slight turners was the only money almost passing through all Scotland.’—Spal.

Nov.

John Dhu Ger, the Highland robber, came with twenty-four men to William Stewart’s house on Speyside, set out watches, and took up house there. From this post he sent armed emissaries here and there to raise money by practising on the terrors of the people. The people gave fair words, but privately were active in collecting men for an effectual resistance. ‘And John Dhu Ger, being informed of their gathering by his watches, shortly takes both the ferry-boats, and carries over his men to the Stannars, whilk is in the midst of the water of Spey, and keepit the ferry-boats close beside himself, so that there was no other boat near enough to follow them.’ The country people had then to commence firing at the robbers from the bank, exposing themselves of course to be fired at in return. At length, by a shot from the gun of one Alexander Anderson, John Dhu Ger fell dead, and his followers dispersed.—Spal.

1639.

The Viscountess Melgum, widow of the young nobleman who had been burnt in Frendraught Castle, lived for several years in Aboyne Castle on the Dee, a gentle, charitable, and devout life, being a strict Catholic. A certain Father Blackhall, who was her domestic chaplain or frere from July 1638 till her death in March 1642, has left a copious gossiping narrative of his career as a priest in Scotland, including much that is curious regarding the private life of the lady, as well as the state of the country in that agitated time. He tells us that he had an apartment to himself, where four dishes of meat, as well as wine and ale, were sent to him at every meal, till, remonstrating about the expensiveness of this practice to the lady, he was allowed by her to eat at her own table. It was customary, he says, for a domestic priest in those days to confine himself very much to his chamber; and if he but opened his window, ‘the people would run to get a sight of him as a monstrous thing.’ But he, going freely about, soon ceased to be an object of curiosity.

By permission of his lady—whom, by the by, he always calls by her inferior title of Lady Aboyne—he made professional tours through the country, to confess and communicate the Catholics scattered about, usually staying a night in each house, or convening the poorer sort in a tavern. He does not speak of any dangers or difficulties encountered in performing this duty. He tells us, however, of some considerable troubles he had in defending the widow lady’s castle from the armed bands of Highlanders and others who were continually going about the country in consequence of the Covenanting wars. If he is to be believed, he was as much his lady’s captain as her priest.

1639.

On one occasion, a party of the Clan Cameron, forty or fifty in number, vassals of the Huntly family, came into the court of Aboyne Castle, asking to see my lady, with the hope of obtaining money from her. Blackhall, finding there was no other man in the house besides a porter and himself, amused them with fair speeches till he obtained assistance, and then closing the gates against them, sent them out some food, as all that Lady Aboyne was willing to bestow upon them. They went away grumbling, and presently quartered themselves upon one of her ladyship’s tenants, named Finlay, who kept a tavern, compelling him to kill poultry and mutton for their supper; and next day, they plundered the house, and set out for another, the Mill of Bountie, which they seemed likely to treat in the same way. Blackhall, hearing of their doings, mustered an armed party of sixteen, and set out to surprise the depredators. The dispositions he made shewed a good deal of sagacity, and were attended with the desired effect.

Marching in single file, after the Highland fashion, and in perfect silence, they had got near the house before the Cameron sentinel observed them. ‘Having discovered us, he did run to the house, and we after him, so near that he had not leisure to shut the gate of the court behind him. All the vantage that he had before us was to win the house, and shut that door behind him, which chanced well for both parties; for if we could have entered the house with him, we should have killed every one another, for we were in great fury to be revenged of them, and they could do no less than defend themselves, selling their lives at the dearest rate they could, as men in despair should do. They would have had a great advantage upon us, for they, being in a dark house, would have seen us well, and we, coming in from the snow, would have been blind for some length of time, in the which they might have done us great skaith, before we could have done them any, not seeing them. But God provided better for us.

1639.

‘How soon we were in the court, I said with a loud voice: “Every one to his post;” which was done in the twinkling of an eye. Then I went to the door, thinking to break it up with my foot: but it was a thick double door, and the lock very strong. Whilst I was at the door, one of them did come to bolt it, and I hearing him at it, did shoot a pistolet at him. He said afterwards that the balls did pass through the hair of his head; whether he said true or not, I know not. I did go from the door to the windows, and back again, still encouraging them, and praying them at the windows to hold their eyes still upon our enemies, and to kill such as would lay their hands to a weapon; and to these at the door to have their guns ever ready to discharge at such as would choose to come forth without my leave. And I still threatened to burn the house, and them all into it, if they would not render themselves at my discretion, which they were loath to do, until they saw the light of bits of straw, that I had kindled to throw upon the thatch of the house, although I did not intend to do it, nor burn our friends with our foes. But if Malcolm Dorward, and his wife and servants, and his son George Dorward, and John Cordoner, all whom the Highlanders had lying in bonds by them, had been out, I would have made no scruple to have burned the house and all the Highlanders within it, to give terror to others who would be so brutal as to oppress ladies who never wronged them.

‘They seeing the light of the burning straw coming in at the windows, and the keepers of the windows bidding them render themselves before they be burned, they called for quarters. I told them they should get no other quarters but my discretion, unto which, if they would submit themselves faithfully, they would find the better quarters; if not, be it at their hazard. Thereupon I bid their captain come and speak with me all alone, with his gun under his arm, disbended, and the stock foremost. Then I went to the door and bid the keepers thereof let out one man all alone, with his gun under his arm, and the stock foremost; but if any did press to follow him, that they should kill both him and them who pressed to follow him. He did come out as I ordained, and trembled as the leaf of a tree. I believe he thought we would kill him there. I did take his gun from him, and discharged it, and laid it down upon the earth by the side of the house. Then, after I had threatened him, and reproached their ingratitude, who durst trouble my lady or her tenants, who was and yet is the best friend that their chief, Donald Cameron, hath in all the world. “For,” said I, “he will tell you how I and another man of my lady’s went to him where he was hiding himself, with his cousin, Ewen Cameron, in my lady’s land, and brought them in croup to Aboyne, where they were kept secretly three weeks, until their enemies, the Covenanters, had left off the seeking of them; and you, unthankful beast as you are, have rendered a displeasure to my lady for her goodness toward you.” He pretended ignorance of that courtesy that she had done to his chief.

1639.

‘“Be not afraid, sir,” said I; “you shall find my discretion to you better than any quarters that you could have gotten by capitulation; for I shall impose nothing to you but that which you shall confess to be just.” This encouraged him, for he was exceeding feared. Then I said: “Think you it is not just that you pay this poor man, Alexander Finlay, what you spent in his house, and render what you plundered from him?” He said: “It is very just,” and paid him what he asked; to wit, four crowns in ready money; and promised to restore what other things they had plundered from him as soon as his companions, who had the things, were come out. All which he performed. “Is it not just,” said I, “that you render to Malcolm Dorward, in whose house you are here, and to his son, George Dorward, and to their friend, John Cordoner, all whatsoever you have taken from them?” “It is just,” said he; “and I shall not go out of his court in which I stand, until I have satisfied everybody.” “Is it not just,” said I, “that you promise and swear that you shall go out of the land pertaining to my lady peaceably, untroubling any of her tenants or servants any more; and that you promise and swear never to molest her tenants hereafter?” “It is just,” said he; and did swear to perform all these things. When he had sworn by his part of Heaven to keep these articles, I made him swear by the soul of his father, that neither he, nor none whom he could hinder, should ever thereafter trouble or molest my lady, nor any of her tenants. Then I sent him into his company in the house to see if they would stand to all that he had promised and sworn. He said: “They have all sworn fidelity and obedience to me, and therefore they must stand to whatsoever I promise, and perform it.” “Notwithstanding,” said I, “send me them out as you did come—their guns under their arms, the stocks foremost; and send no more out but one at a time; and let no more out until he who is out return in again; and when you have all come out severally, and made the same oath which you have made, you shall have leave to take up all your guns, but upon your oaths that you shall not charge them again until you be out of the lands pertaining to my lady.”

1639.

“They did all come out severally as I had commanded, and as they did come to me, I discharged their guns to the number of six or eight and forty, which made the tenants convene to us from the parties where the shots were heard; so that, before they had all come out, we were near as many as they, armed with swords, and targes, and guns. When they all had made their oaths to me, I ranked our people like two hedges, five paces distance from one another rank, and but one pace every man from another in that same rank, and turn[ed] the mouths of their guns and their faces one rank to another, so as the Highlanders might pass two and two together betwixt their ranks. They passed so from the door of the hall in which they were, to the place where their guns were lying all empty. They trembled passing, as if they had been in a fever quartan. I asked their captain, when they had taken up their guns, what way they would hold to go out of my lady’s land. He said, they desired to go to Birse. I said we would convoy them to the boat of Birse, a good mile from the place where we were. I did so, because I had promised never to come in my lady’s sight if I did not put them out of her lands; and therefore, to come in her house, I would see them pass over the water of Dye, out of her lands, which went to the water-side, and we stood by the water-side until the boat did take them over in three voyages; and when they were all over the water, we returned home. Alexander Davidson returned from Bountie how soon they began to march away. He told to my lady the event of our siege, who was very joyful that no blood was shed on either side.”

‘Their captain and I going together to the water-side, [he] said to me: “Sir, you have been happy in surprising us, for if our watchman had advertised us before your entry into the court, but only so long as we might have taken our arms in our hands and gone to the court, we could have killed you all before you had come near us, we being covered from you, and you in an open field to us; or if we had but gone the first to the windows, we could have beaten you out of the court, or killed you all in it.” “Good friend,” said I, “you think you had to do with children; but know that I was a soldier before you could wipe your own nose, and could have ranged my men so by the side of the house wherein you was, that you should not have seen them through the windows, and in that posture kept the door so well that none of you should have come out unkilled, and so kept you within until the country had convened against you. I confess, if you had been masters of the court, and we in open fields, you might have done what you say; but we were not such fools as to lay ourselves wide open to you, being covered from us. If any house had been near us, we could have made a sconce of it to cover ourselves; if none were near us, we could retire in order, and you could not pursue us, unlaid yourselves as open to us as we were to you, and there we should have seen who did best.”

1639.

‘In the parish of Birse, these same fellows did call away a prey of cattle, and killed some men who resisted them. Then they went to Craigyvar, and although he was esteemed the most active man in all the name of Forbes, they plundered his tenants, and carried away a prey of cattle, for all that he could do against them. And this I say, to shew that these Highlanders were active and stout fellows, and that, consequently, it was God, and not I with sixteen boys, that did put them out of the lands of that pious and devout lady, whom he did protect, and would not suffer to be oppressed. And to shew that it was he himself, and none other, he made choice of weak and unfit instruments; to wit, a poor priest, who made no profession of arms, unless charity, as at this time, or his own just defence obliged him to it, and sixteen boys, who had never been at such play before, to whom he gave on this occasion both resolution and courage, and to me better conduct than could have proceeded from my simple spirit, without his particular inspiration; to whom I render, as I should, with unfeigned submission, all the glory of that action.’

(Nov.?)

The Marquis of Huntly being at this time resident in the Canongate, two of his daughters were married there ‘with great solemnities’—Lady Anne, who was ‘ane precise puritan,’ to Lord Drummond; and Lady Henrietta, who was a Roman Catholic, to Lord Seton, son of the Earl of Wintoun. The ladies had each 40,000 merks, Scots money, as her fortune, their uncle the Earl of Argyle being cautioner for the payment, ‘for relief whereof he got the wadset of Lochaber and Badenoch.’—Spal. Lady Jean, the third daughter, was married in the ensuing January to the Earl of Haddington, with 30,000 merks as her ‘tocher good.’

1640. Mar.

In Aberdeenshire, there were ‘in this ait-seed time, great frosts and snaw, no ploughs going, and little seed sawing, so vehement was this storm. No peats could be had to burn, for ane lead [horse-burden] would have cost 13s. 4d. [1s. 1-1/3d. sterling], whilk would have been cost [bought] other years for 2s. [2d. sterling]. The brewsters left aff to brew for want of fire. The reason of this scarcity was, because the Covenanters, coming here in March 1639, causit the haill servants, who should have casten the peats for serving of both Aberdeens, flee out of the country for fear; and so not only was our peats dear, but, through the unseasonableness of the spring, the victual also became very dear.’—Spal.

May 8.

1640.

As the young Earl Marischal was returning from Aberdeen to his castle of Dunnottar, a quarrel arose amongst some of the large party of gentlemen convoying him; and in a fight between Forbes, the young Laird of Tolquhon, and Mr George Leslie, the former was wounded in the head. Leslie was returned in shackles to Aberdeen, along with an associate named Fraser, to be punished. At the command of the earl, who acted as general and governor of the district for the Covenanters, a stock or block with an axe beside it was raised at the market-cross, with a scaffold round about, and a fire; these being meant as preparations for cutting off Leslie’s hand. The hangman stood ready to do his office, when the young man was brought out, amidst the pitiful cries of the populace, who deemed the punishment a monstrous cruelty. The arm had been laid down on the block, and the axe was raised for the stroke, when, past the expectation of the beholders, the Master of Forbes suddenly approached and forbade the execution; ‘whereat the people mightily rejoiced.’ The general did this for satisfying of young Tolquhon, but was believed to have from the first designed to grant a pardon.—Spal.

July.

Eight hundred Covenanting troops, under the command of General Munro, marched from Aberdeen, to take rule in the estate of the Marquis of Huntly at Strathbogie, the marquis himself being now with the king in England. They carried six putters, or short pieces of ordnance. On approaching Strathbogie, where there was no resistance, ‘they took horse, nolt, sheep, and kine, drove the bestial before them, slew and did eat at their pleasure. They brak up girnels wherever they came, to furnish themselves bread. Coming after this manner to Strathbogie, the first thing they entered to do was hewing down the pleasant planting about Strathbogie, to be huts for the soldiers to sleep in upon the night.... Then they fell to and meddled with the meal girnels, whereof there was store within that place, took in the office-houses, began shortly to bake and brew, and make ready good cheer; and when they wanted, took in beef, mutton, hen, capon, and such-like, out of Glenfiddich and Auchindown, where the country people had transported their bestial, of purpose out of the way, from the bounds of Strathbogie. Always they wanted not good cheer for a little pains.’

1640.

Seeing the world run in this fashion, John Dhu Ger, the Highland rogue, broke loose also,[88] and fell to plundering throughout the land of Moray. Munro, hearing that he had collected an immense spreath of cattle and sheep at Auchindown, sent Rittmaster Forbes with a small party to rescue the goods out of his hands; but John stood his ground, and defended his prey manfully. The Rittmaster retired with his party, and told Munro in excuse that he did not find it good riding-ground. Afterwards Munro made good his point, and took out of Auchindown John Dhu Ger’s plunder and other bestial, to the amount of ‘2500 head of horse, mares, nolt, and kine, with great number of sheep, and brought them to Strathbogie,’ where, it is said, ‘they were sold by the soldiers to the owners back again, for 13s. 4d. the sheep, and ane dollar the nolt,’ the horse remaining unsold.

The head men of the country, deprived of the presence of their chief, the marquis, were obliged to bow to the rule of General Munro. Some came in, and undertook to join the Covenanting army; others, who did not do so, submitted to large fines. ‘Neither work-horse nor saddle-horse was left about Strathbogie, but either the master was forced to buy his own horses, or let them go for the service of the army;’ all arms being likewise taken from them. ‘Baron, gentleman, herd, and hireman,’ all alike suffered. Amongst other spoil, Munro seized a great quantity of home-made cloth which he found bleaching about the country, hanging it over the lofty walls of Strathbogie Castle to dry—‘pity to behold!’ At length, after oppressing the country for upwards of a month, this Covenanting party ‘flitted their camp,’ previously setting fire to their wooden lodges, and emptying out what was unspent from the girnels. ‘They left that country almost manless, moneyless, horseless, and armless.’—Spal.

Aug. 5.

At the command of a committee of the General Assembly, some memorials of the ancient worship, hitherto surviving in Aberdeen, were removed. In Machar Kirk, they ‘ordained our blessed Lord Jesus Christ his arms to be hewen out of the front of the pulpit, and to take down the portrait of our blessed Virgin Mary, and her dear son baby Jesus in her arms, that had stood since the up-putting thereof, in curious work, under the sill-ring at the west end of the pend whereon the great steeple stands.... Besides, where there was ane crucifix set in glassen windows, this he [the Master of Forbes] caused pull out in honest men’s houses. He caused ane mason strike out Christ’s arms in hewen wark on ilk end of Bishop Gavin Dunbar’s tomb, and siclike chisel out the name of Jesus, drawn cypher-wise IHS, out of the timber wall on the fore-side of Machar aile, anent the consistory door. The crucifix on the Old Town cross dung down; the crucifix on the New Town cross closed up, being loath to break the stone; the crucifix on the west end of St Nicholas’ Kirk in New Aberdeen dung down, whilk was never troubled before.’—Spal.

Aug. 30.

1640.

This day, being Sunday, a dismal accident happened, of some consequence for its bearing on the interests of the Covenant, as it caused the destruction of a considerable number of gentlemen who were preparing to act in that cause. The Earl of Haddington was at this time stationed at Dunglass Castle, in Berwickshire, along with a number of other Covenanting chiefs, and a store of ammunition. On the day noted, the house was blown up by the explosion of the powder, which was placed in a vault underneath. There perished the earl himself, his brother Robert, and a bastard brother; Colonel Alexander Erskine, son of the Earl of Mar; Sir John Hamilton of Redhouse; Sir Gideon Baillie of Lochend; James Inglis of Ingliston; John Coupar of Gogar; Sir Alexander Hamilton of Innerwick; and some others, including about fifty-four servants, men and women; while thirty gentlemen, and others of inferior degree, were sore hurt, but not irrecoverably. It was thought that an English page, named Edward Paris, who was trusted by the earl with the key of the vault, set fire to the powder voluntarily, in consequence of pet; but accident is much more probable. ‘No part of him was ever found but ane arm, holding ane iron spoon in his hand.’

‘One thing wonderful happened, about eight of the clock, on the Thursday at night, before the blowing up of the house of Dunglass. There appeared a very great pillar of fire to arise from the north-east of Dunbar, as appeared to them in Fife who did behold it, and so ascended towards the south, until it approached the vertical point of our hemisphere, yielding light as the moon at her full, and by little evanishing until it became like a parallax, and so quite evanished about eleven of the clock in the night.’—Bal.

The Earl of Haddington, being only the second generation of a family raised by state employment and royal favour to extraordinary wealth, might have been expected to take no part against King Charles. It is stated that when the king heard of the accident, he remarked that ‘albeit Lord Haddington had been very ungrateful to him, yet he was sorry that he had not at his dying some time to repent.’[89]

Amongst the killed was Colonel Alexander Erskine, a younger son of the late Earl of Mar. He was a handsome and gallant soldier, originally in the French service, and is noted as the lover whose faithlessness is bewailed in Lady Anne Bothwell’s Lament:

‘I wish I were within the bounds,

Where he lies smothered in his wounds,

Repeating, as he pants for air,

My name whom once he called his fair:

No woman’s yet so fiercely set,

But she’ll forgive, though not forget.’

1640.

The orders for the discipline of the school at the kirk of Dundonald, in Ayrshire, in this year, have been preserved,[90] and exhibit arrangements and rules surprisingly little different from what might now be found in a good Scotch parish school. There were to be prayers morning and evening, and a lesson each day on the Lord’s Prayer, Belief, Commands, Graces, or Catechism. Somewhat unexpectedly, we find it enjoined on the master, that he teach his scholars good manners, ‘how to carry themselves fashionably towards all ... the forms of courtesy to be used towards himself in the schule, their parents at hame, gentlemen, eldermen, and others of honest fashion, abroad.’ One arrangement seems of questionable tendency, and certainly has not taken root amongst us—namely, ‘for the mair perfyte understanding of the children’s behaviour, there shall be a clandestine censor, of whom nane shall know but the master, that he may secretly acquaint the master with all things, and, according to the quality of the faults, the master shall inflict punishment, striking some on the lufe with a birk wand or pair of taws, others on the hips, as their faults deserve, but none at ony time or in ony case on the head or cheeks.’ The conclusion conveys an impression of good sense in the deviser of the rules. ‘Especially is the master to kythe [shew] his prudence in taking up the several inclinations of his scholars, and applying himself thereunto, commendations, allurements, fair words, drawing from vice, and provoking to virtue, such as may be won thereby, and others by moderate severity, if that be fund maist convenient for their stubbornness. And let the wise master rather by a grave and an authoritative countenance repress insolence, and gain every one to his duty, than by strokes, yet not neglecting the rod when it is needful.’

Dec. 28.

1640.

At the command of the minister of the parish, accompanied by several gentlemen of the Covenanting party, the timber-screen of Elgin Cathedral, which had outlived the Reformation, was cast down. ‘On the west side was painted in excellent colours, illuminate with stars of bright gold, the crucifixion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This piece was so excellently done, that the colours and stars never faded nor evanished, but keepit hale and sound, as they were at the beginning, notwithstanding this college or canonry kirk wanted the roof since the Reformation, and no hale window therein to save the same from storm, snow, sleet, nor weet; whilk myself saw.... On the other side of this wall, towards the east, was drawn the Day of Judgment.... It was said, this minister caused bring home to his house the timber thereof, and burn the same for serving his kitchen and other uses; but ilk night the fire went out wherein it was burnt, and could not be holden in to kindle the morning fire, as use is; whereat the servants and others marvelled, and thereupon the minister left off any further to bring in or burn any more of that timber in his house. This was marked and spread through Elgin, and credibly reported to myself.’—Spal.

1641. June.

1641.

The present was a sad time for the professors of the Catholic religion in Scotland. Spalding relates in feeling terms the unavoidable exile of the Dowager-marchioness of Huntly, a lady (daughter of Esme Duke of Lennox) who had been born and educated in France, and could not now, with one foot in the grave, alter her religion, while neither could her high rank and powerful connections avail to obtain for her toleration. ‘Thus, resolutely she settles her estate, rents, and living, and leaves with woe heart her stately building of the Bog, beautified with many yards, parks, and pleasures—closes up the yetts, and takes journey with about sixteen horse; and upon Saturday, the 26th of June, comes to Aberdeen, lodged in Mr Alexander Reid’s house; and upon Monday thereafter, she rides frae Aberdeen towards Edinburgh. A strange thing to see a worthy lady, near seventy years of age, put to such trouble and travail, being a widow, her eldest son the Lord Marquis being out of the kingdom, her bairns and oyes dispersed and spread—and, albeit nobly born, yet left helpless and comfortless, and so put at by the kirk, that she behoved to go or else to bide excommunication, and thereby lose her estate and living, whilk she was loath to do! She left her oye [grandson] Charles, son to the marquis, being but ane bairn, with Robert Gordon, bailie of the Enzie, to be entertained by him, when she came from the Bog; and she also sent another of his bairns, called Lady Mary, to Anna Countess of Perth, her own eldest sister, to remain with her.... She remains [in Edinburgh] till about the end of September, but help or remede, syne rides directly to Berwick, there to abide during her pleasure. It is said she had about 300,000 merks in gold and jewels with her, by and attour the gold and silver plate of both houses of Bog and Strathbogie; which did little good to the distressed estate of that noble house.’—Spal. It is the more remarkable that the marchioness found no remedy in Edinburgh, as King Charles was there during her stay, and he, as her relative, and the friend of her loyal family, must have been disposed to interfere in her behalf, if in his power to do so. The marchioness died in France in the ensuing year.

When the highest rank could not procure the slightest toleration for a professor of the Romish faith, it was not to be expected that Catholics of mean estate should be unmolested. In April 1642, Peter Jop, sailor in Aberdeen, gave in a supplication to the Privy Council, representing his ‘miserable condition upon occasion of the imprisonment of Isobel Robertson, his spouse, ane excommunicat papist.’ The Lords wrote to the magistrates and ministers of Aberdeen, requesting Isobel’s ‘enlargement upon assurance of conformity, or of removal out of the country;’ and accordingly she was allowed till the 15th of October to make up her mind about these alternatives. Now, in the month of July, Peter Jop represents that his wife is in a delicate condition, and will be undergoing confinement of another kind about the time assigned as her longest day. ‘The soonest she can be transported out of the country, if she do not conform, will be about the month of March’—so declares Peter; but he humbly assures the Lords that if they will so far extend the term assigned to her, she will then give obedience without further delay. The Lords were mercifully inclined, and allowed Isobel to remain unmolested till the last day of March.—P. C. R.

Aug.

‘In this month, ane great death, both in burgh and land, of young bairns in the pox; so that nine or ten children would be buried in New Aberdeen in one day, and continued a long time. All for our sins, and yet not taken to heart.’ ‘There was reckoned buried in Aberdeen about twelve score bairns in this disease,’

Spalding, who notes these particulars, remarks that, since the beginning of the troubles, there had been no sea-mews seen in the lochs of New or Old Aberdeen, ‘who before flocked and clecked in so great abundance, that it was pleasure to behold them flying above our heads, yea, and some made use of their eggs and birds. In like manner, few or no corbies seen in either Aberdeens at the water-side of Dee or Don, or shore, where they wont to flock abundantly for salmon gouries.’

1641.

He tells us that the 14th of September was kept as a solemn thanksgiving throughout Scotland, on account of the settlement between the king and Estates. ‘Here it is to be marked, that this day of thanksgiving was strictly kept, the weather being wonderful fair, and the poor country people rather wishing to have been at home winning their corns.... Which is more to be noted, this day of thanksgiving, being ane wonderful fair day, fit for harvest, whereon they are forced to sit idle; thereafter there was nothing but tempestuous rains till the 10th of October, whilk was again ane day of fast; whereby the people’s hearts were casten down, fearing the loss of their harvest through this wicked weather.’

Oct. 28.

At the meeting of the Estates this day, the king communicated intelligence of the outbreak in Ireland, but without as yet being able to state whether it was a small or a great revolt. It was not till Monday, the 1st of November, that he came to the house with the statement that it appeared to be a general rebellion, from which only Dublin was safe.[91] He, on that occasion, urged the Estates to send an armament as soon as possible, to aid in maintaining order in that distracted country.

Mr Tytler of Woodhouselee had learned, through the medium of tradition, that the king was engaged in a match at golf, on Leith Links, when a letter was delivered into his hands, giving him the first intelligence of the Irish rebellion. ‘On reading which,’ adds Mr Tytler, ‘he suddenly called for his coach, and leaning on one of his attendants, and in great agitation, drove to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, from whence next day he set out for London.[92]

This anecdote is certainly wrong in the last particular, as the king did not leave Edinburgh on his return to England till the 18th of November. The remainder of the anecdote may be true. Mr Tytler states that the king was fond of the game of golf. In Wodrow’s Analecta, the story is related with a wholly different cast, from two sources. It is here said that the king had been participant in hatching the Irish rebellion for his own ends, and, when the accounts of the massacre came, ‘he was playing at the gowf in the Links of Leith. When he opened the letters and had looked at them, he seemed not in the least concerned, but ruffled the letter up, and called to his company to play about.’[93]

1641. Dec. 25.

The town-clerk of Aberdeen bewails the suppression of old kindly Christian customs at this time, as gentle Izaak Walton might have done, if it had been vouchsafed to him to exercise his rod upon the Dee. Whereas, in former times, Christmas or Yule-day had been observed with preachings, and praises, and thanksgiving, ‘in remembrance of the birth of our blessed Saviour,’ and friends and neighbours made merry with each other and had good cheer, ‘now this day,’ says Spalding, ‘no such preachings nor such meetings with merriness, walking up and down,’ in Aberdeen, but, on the contrair, it was ‘commanded to be keepit as ane work-day, ilk burgess to keep his booth, ilk craftsman his wark, feasting and idleset forbidden out of pulpits.... The people was otherwise inclined, but durst not disobey; yet little merchandise was sold, and as little work done on this day in either Aberdeens. The colliginers and other scholars keep the school against their wills.’

1642. Feb. 16.

Owing to the sending of forces from Scotland to put down the Irish rebellion, a considerable intercourse had sprung up between the two countries. The Privy Council accordingly found it necessary to establish postages betwixt Port-Patrick and Edinburgh, and betwixt Port-Patrick and Carlisle, for the conveyance of packets of letters. In this movement, England was more concerned than Scotland, and she therefore cordially agreed to bear all the expense that should be required. It is interesting to trace the first steps in a system now so important as the Post-office.

1642.

On a resolution being formed by the parliament of England and the Scottish commissioners, to establish a line of posts between Edinburgh and Port-Patrick, and Port-Patrick and Carlisle, the business of making the arrangements was confided to Robert Glencorse, merchant in Dumfries, under a duty of consulting ‘Mr Burlmakie, master of the letter-office.’ Robert was himself ‘established postmaster betwix Annan and Dumfries, twelve mile; and Mark Loch, betwix Carlisle and Annan, twelve mile; Andrew M‘Min betwix Dumfries and Steps of Orr, twelve mile; Ninian Mure betwix the Steps of Orr and Gatehouse of Fleet, twelve mile; and George Bell from thence to the Pethhouse, eleven mile; and John Baillie from thence to the Kirk of Glenluce, thirteen mile; and John M‘Caig from that to the port, ten mile.’ These persons were considered ‘the only ones fit for that employment, as being innkeepers and of approved honesty in these parts.’ The lords of the Privy Council were (September 27) supplicated to ratify the arrangements, and to ‘allow John M‘Caig, postmaster in Port-Patrick, to have a post bark.’ The supplication was at once complied with.

Apr.

At this time of general strife and trouble, when civil war was beginning to appear inevitable, a monster passed through the country for exhibition to the curious. It was an Italian of about twenty-four years of age, ‘having from his birth, growing from the breast upwards, face to face, as it were ane creature having a head and syde [long] hair, like the colour of the man’s hair; the head still drooping backward and downward. He had eyes, but closed, not opened. He had ears, two arms, two hands, three fingers on ilk hand, ane body, ane leg, ane foot with six taes; the other leg within the flesh, inclining to the left side.... It had a kind of life and feeling, but void of all other senses; fed by the man’s own nourishment.... This great wark of God was admired of by many in Aberdeen and through the country, as he travelled; yet such was the goodness of God, that he would go and walk where he listed, carrying this birth without any pain, yea unespied when his clothes was on. When he came to the town, he had two servants waiting upon him, who with himself were well clad. He had his portraiture with the monster drawn, and hung out at his lodging to the view of the people. The one servant [was] ane trumpeter, who sounded at such time as the people should come to see this monster, who flocked abundantly into his lodging. The other servant received the monies frae ilk person for sight, some more, some less. And after there was so much collected as could be gotten, he, with his servants, shortly left the town and went south again.’—Spal.

It may somewhat stay our smiles at the simplicity of Spalding’s narration, that it was not till the present century that the true theory of such monsters was arrived at—to wit, that they are twin-births, in which, through some simple disturbing cause, development has been arrested or taken a wrong course.

1642.

There is an account of this remarkable person, illustrated by a portrait, in Palfyn’s Traité des Monstres, de leur Causes, de leur Nature, &c. (Leyden, 1708). The author had first seen him at Copenhagen, and afterwards at Bâle, while he was still a young man. He bore the name of Lazare Colloredon Genois, and the attached figure had been baptised separately under the name of Jean Baptiste. Lazare is described as a man of good stature and appearance, and of agreeable manners. He wore a large cloak, to conceal the unsightly brother whom nature had attached to his breast. Usually he shewed a good deal of vivacity, but was now and then depressed in thinking of what should be his fate, if, as was likely, his brother should die before him. Jean Baptiste was a very imperfect being, nourished only by what Lazare ate; his eyes nearly closed, and his respiration scarcely perceptible.

Apr. 10.

As it had been with Christmas, so it now was with Pasch. According to Spalding, ‘no flesh durst be sold in Aberdeen for making good cheer, as wont was to be. So ilk honest man [Episcopalian] did the best he could for himself. A matter never before heard of in this land, that Pasch-day should be included within Lentron time, because it was now holden superstitious; nor nae communion given on Good Friday nor this Pasch-day, as was usit before. Marvellous in Aberdeen to see no market, fowl or flesh, to be sold on Pasch-even.’

June.

Up to this time, from the beginning of the year, there was a scarcity of white fish along the east coast, ‘to the hurt and hunger of the poor ... and beggaring of the fishermen. It was reported that when the fishers had laid their lines and taken fishes abundantly, there came ane beast called the Sea Dog to the lines, and ate and destroyed the haill bodies, and left nothing on the lines but the heads. A judgment surely from God Almighty, for the like scarcity of fishes to continue so long has scarcely been seen here in Scotland; whilk bred great dearth of meal and malt, at aucht, nine, or ten pounds the boll, and all other meats also very dear.’—Spal.

The honest town-clerk of Aberdeen probably by sea-dog means the well-known dog-fish, one of the cartilaginous family, which is a constant enemy of our fisheries at this day.

The same authority informs us that dearth continued throughout the ensuing winter. ‘White meal,’ he says, probably meaning flour, ‘was at eight pounds the boll.’ The people had been accustomed to dear summers—the stock of grain of the preceding year usually getting low at that season—but this was the first dear winter for many years. ‘There was also great rains, whereby none was able to travel; great storms in the sea, and few fish gotten, to the great grief of the people.’

1642.

In November, when the recent commencement of hostilities between the king and the English parliament must have been thrilling men’s minds in Scotland, Spalding notes, that ‘in ane seaman’s house in Peterhead, there was heard, upon the night, beating of drums, other times sounding of trumpets, playing on piffers, and ringing of bells, to the astonishment of the hearers. Troubles followit.’

Oct. 18.

The preservation of the strict rule of the church was at this time sought in the most earnest manner, no one dreaming of any such thing on the other side as the rights of conscience, or the danger of creating a reaction to contrary purposes. At a provincial assembly held in Aberdeen, there was much business regarding the few symptoms of Brownism or independency lately presented throughout the country. Gilbert Garden, younger of Tillifroskie, in the parish of Birse, was denounced by his parish minister for forsaking the kirk, and affecting to regard his private family devotions as sufficient. Being brought before the court, he confessed that such was his case, but defended himself; whereupon the minister was enjoined to excommunicate him if he proved obdurate. (About a twelvemonth after, young Tillifroskie was seized ‘upon the causey of Edinburgh,’ and put in the Tolbooth there, on account of his Brownism.) One Ferendale was afterwards proceeded with in the same sharp way, but was induced to deny the Brownist tenets in time to save himself. Another man, named Maxwell, ‘a silly wheel-wright of his calling,’ who had also been summoned for Brownism, deemed it most prudent to vanish from the town. After an ineffectual search for this important recusant, the ministers out of their pulpits forbade all men to ‘reset’ him.—Spal.

1642.

One of the means of keeping up the excitement necessary for sustaining the war against the king was to thunder constantly in the pulpits about the papists. The difficulty seems to have been to find a real live papist, to give some sort of countenance to these fulminations, for at this time, in the simple but expressive words of Spalding, ‘none durst be seen.’ Now and then, a smart razzia brought out one or two cowed professors of the abhorred faith. A small clerical party, supported by a couple of bailies, went out of Aberdeen on the evening of Sunday the 16th of April (1643), ‘with caption to tak Alexander Hervie in Grandhame for popery, who was lying bedfast in the gut [gout], to have taken him as ane excommunicat papist; but they could not find him. His son they saw upon horseback, excommunicat likewise; but they had no commission against him.’ Two days later, the young Laird of Birkenbog seized a priest named Robertson in the house of Forbes of Blackton, and brought him to Aberdeen. Being soon after transported to Edinburgh, this priest was sent to West Flanders, with a hint that, if he reappeared in Scotland, he should be hanged.

On the 8th of October 1643, Thomas Blackhall and his wife, and the wife of one Collieson, were excommunicated as papists by Andrew Cant, minister of Aberdeen. ‘Strange to see,’ says Spalding, ‘the wife to be excommunicat, and the husband not to keep company with her!’

One of the saddest acts of discipline that proceeded from the dominant party at this time, was the banishment of Dr Forbes of Corse, who had been professor of divinity in Aberdeen under the Episcopal Church. Learned above his fellows, modest and peaceable even in his opposition, and protesting that he was sound in the controversies against papists, Socinians, and Arminians, he was, nevertheless, compelled to leave his country, April 1644, because he could not be induced to sign the Covenant. He had purchased a house for the professors of divinity, but neglected to reserve his own liferent; so he was obliged to leave it to his Covenanting successor, at the same time breaking up his library and selling a part of his books. ‘Surely,’ says Spalding, ‘this was ane excellent religious man, who feirit God, charitable to the poor, and ane singular scholar; yet he was put fra his calling, his country, his friends, and all, for not subscryving our Covenant, to the grudge and grief of the best.’

1643. Feb. 1.

The Aberdeen annalist tells a wild story of a complex murder which befell to-day. The young Laird of Calder was married to a daughter of the Laird of Cromarty, who, having no pleasure in him, prepared a potion for his destruction. Hutcheon Ross of Auchincloch and two other gentlemen, visiting the house this evening, ‘were made welcome, supped merrily, and were all three found dead in their beds on the morn,’ having through some mistake received the poison meant for young Calder, ‘who by his friends was hastily removed out of that place, and never more tried.’

Feb.

1643.

Whilst the first battles of the Civil War were causing universal excitement, some further rumours of prodigies were circulated in the country. It was stated that a battle was seen at the hill of Manderlee, four miles from Banff; and so strongly did the vision impress itself on the beholders, that many ran to bury their valuables in the earth. At Bankafair and Drum, touking of drums was heard. Mr Andrew Leitch, minister of Ellon in Aberdeenshire, sitting at supper one night, ‘heard touking of drums vively, sometimes appearing near at hand, and sometimes far off. On the 7th of February, it was written here to Aberdeen, that Kentoun battle at Banbury,[94] wherein his majesty was victorious, has in vision been seen seven sundry times sin-syne.’—Spal. On the 12th, about eight in the morning, being a misty day, ‘visions seen at the hill of Brimman, within four miles of Aberdeen. William Anderson, tenant in Crabstone, told me he saw ane great army as appeared to him, both of horse and foot, about eight hours in the morning, being misty, and visibly continued till sunrising; syne vanished away in his sight with noise, into ane moss hard beside. Likewise in the muir of Forfar, armies of men seen in the air. Whilk visions the people thought to be prodigious tokens, as it fell out over true.’—Spal.

The same minister of Ellon, happening to step out of his manse one night between twelve and one o’clock, ‘did see the sun to shine, as if it had been mid-day, and, much astonished at so fearful a prodigy, he called up his bedral to see it also; and, lest the truth hereof should not win belief, he caused the bedral to raise a number of the neighbours from their beds, all which did testify the same, when the preacher was questioned about it by the committee sitting at Aberdeen.’—Pa. Gordon. To make up for this unusual solar demonstration, the sun by day ‘was seen in divers parts to shine with a faint beam, yielding a dim and shadowy light even in a clear heaven, and sometime did shew like a deep and large pond or lake of blood.’

1643.

We learn from the same authority, that ‘at Rethine, in Buchan, there was about the time of morning-prayer, for divers days together heard in a church a choir of music, both of voices, organs, and other instruments, and with such a ravishing sweetness, that they were transported, which in numbers resorted to hear it.... The preacher one day being much taken with the harmony, went, with divers of his parishioners into the church, to try if their eyes could bear witness to what their ears had heard; but they were no sooner entered when, lo! the music ceased with a long note or stroke of the viol di gambo; and the sound came from ane upper loft, where the people used to hear service, but they could see nothing.’

Gordon adds an account of a prodigious noise which was heard all over the kingdom at the moment when Alaster Macdonald landed with his Irish in the west of Scotland, to join Montrose in behalf of the king—that ‘warning piece shot from heaven as the last signal that should be given us of our near approaching punishment; this I am sure the whole kingdom can testify, since the report did ring in the ears of every man, woman, and child throughout the kingdom, as if it had been levelled at themselves, as well in the houses as the fields, not only in one day and one hour, but at one moment of time.’

When we read the history of two centuries ago, we little reflect on the mental condition and furniture of the principal actors, or the manner in which the public at large was prepared to receive and treat events. Yet it cannot be doubted that history must have in a great measure taken its bent and character from these circumstances. In reviewing the events of the Civil War, it is most essential to keep in view the style of religious convictions under which men acted, and even their superstitions.

1643.

The Diary of Sir Thomas Hope, the king’s advocate under Charles I., and a leader in all the proceedings of the Covenanters, shews us that Sir Thomas, in most affairs of difficulty, accepted the thoughts which occurred to his mind after prayer as a divine impulse to the right course of action.[95] It reveals not merely the generally devout life of the man, his frequent prayers and communions, and his entire resignation to the divine will, but his being subject to superstitions at which a child would now smile. He has frequently such entries as the following: ‘June 24, 1643.—This night I thought that a tooth (whilk was loose) fell out of my gums, and that I took it up in my hands and kep it; and it seemed so real that while [till] I awakit, I thought it really true, and could scarcely believe it otherwise when I had awakit. Thir repeated dreams portends some calamity to me or mine; but I have resolved to submit myself to my good Lord, and to adore his providence; and the Lord give me grace to bear it patiently.’ ‘June 25.—At night I dreamed that while I was pulling on my left buit, both the tongues of it brake. This fell out really on the 26 September thereafter.... God prepare me. The Lord prepare me, for I look certainly to suffering in such way as my Lord pleases.’ ‘April 8, 1644.—This night a dream occurrit, whilk carries some fear with it; but I wait on the Lord. It was, that the rod wherewith I walk was broken in pieces, and nothing left of it but the silver head.’

Apr.

‘Horribly uncouth and unkindly weather at this time ... marvellous to see in April! Fishes, fowls, and all other commodities scarce gettable in Aberdeen. White meal at nine pound ... the boll.’ Merchants, expecting still greater prices elsewhere, bought up and exported all the grain they could collect, ‘to the wreck of our country,’ and not without ‘the country people’s malison.’ Spalding, who relates these circumstances, tells us that this malison was ‘heard;’ for on the 29th of May, a ship loading with meal in the Ythan river in Aberdeenshire, slipped a plank, so as to let in the salt water and destroy the cargo.

Nov.

‘There came to Aberdeen ane Doctor Pont[hus], who had some stage plays, whilk drew the people to behold the sport; syne, upon the stage sold certain balms, oils, and other physical ointments, whereof he made great gain. Thereafter he went north to other burghs, and did the like.’—Spal.

1643.

If it were allowable to use the language of the day, we might say that the devil had at this time broken out in unusual activity. Accordingly, the public authorities had not only to prepare an army for the aid of the parliament against the king in England, and make vigorous crusades in Strathbogie and other over-loyal districts, but to meet the powers of darkness with all the terrors of the criminal law. The number of old women who suffered for offending at once against the 18th chapter of Deuteronomy and the 73d act of the ninth parliament of Queen Mary,[96] in Fife alone, was thirty.[97] One noted case was that of Agnes Finnie, a poor woman dealing in small articles at the Potterrow Port in Edinburgh, who was convicted and burned in 1644. Mr Charles K. Sharpe has presented us with the articles of her dittay, and as they afford a highly characteristic picture of the acts then attributed to a witch, and give some curious glimpses of the private life of the period, I make no apology for transferring them to these pages.

‘Having threatened Mr William Fairlie’s son to send him halting hame, because, going by her door, he, in a nickname, called her Annie Winnie, he within twenty-four hours after, lost the power of his left side by her witchcraft, and languished in so incurable a disease, that the whole physicians called it supernatural, and the haill substance of his body ran out at his cute [ankle]; and the boy laid the whole wyte [blame] of his death constantly upon the panel.

‘She laid upon Beatrix Nisbet a fearful disease, so that she lost the power of her tongue! because she paying the said Agnes two dollars owing her by her father, would not give her annual rent [interest] therefor. She laid a grievous sickness upon Jonet Grinton, whom ye threatened that she should never eat more in this world, because she had brought again two herring she had bought from you, they not being caller [fresh], and sought back her eight pennies [two-thirds of a penny sterling], and of which she died, without eating or drinking conform to your threatening.

‘Ye came in to visit John Buchanan’s bairn, being sick of a palsy, and bade the father and mother go ben the house [remove to the inner apartment] a while and pray to God for him; and in the meanwhile ye stayed with him, and when they returned, they fand him violently sick that he could neither stir hand nor foot, and that by your devilry; and fand on his right buttock about the breadth of one’s loof, the same so sore as if a collop had been ta’en out of it; and he died in eight days in great dolour.

1643.

‘Falling a scolding with Betty Currie, the said bairn’s mother, about the changing of a sixpence which ye alleged to be ill, ye, in great rage, threatened that ye should gar [cause] the devil tak a bite of her. Ye laid a grievous sickness on her husband, John Buchanan, that he burned a whole night as if he had been in a fire, for taking his wife Betty Currie’s part against you, and boasting [threatening] to cast you over the stair, and calling you a witch; whereon ye threatened to make him repent his speeches; and for taking the same off him, he coming the next day and drinking a pint of ale with you, and telling you that if you tormented him so another night, he should make all the town hear tell of it; whereon he was weel. The said John being offended at you because ye would not trust his wife a twelvepenny cake [penny roll], ye bade him go his way, and as he had begun with witches, so he should end; after which threatening, he straight contracted a long and grievous sickness, whereof he was like to melt away in sweating.

‘In your scolding with Euphame Kincaid, ye calling her a drunkard, and she calling you a witch, ye replied: “That if ye was a witch, she and hers should have better cause to call ye so;” accordingly, a great joist fell on the said Euphame’s daughter’s leg, being playing near your house, and crushed the same, and that by your sorcery.

‘Ye, ending an account with Isobel Acheson, and because ye could not get all your unreasonable demands, bade the devil ride about the town with her and hers; whereupon, the next day, she brake her leg by a fall from a horse, and ye came and saw her, and said: “See that ye say not that I have bewitched you, as other neighbours say.”

‘Robert Watt, deacon of the cordwainers, having fined Robert Pursell, your son-in-law, for a riot, ye came where he and the rest of the craft were convened, and cursed them most outrageously, whereon Robert Watt broke the cap upon your head; since which time he fell away in his worldly means, till long after, he being in your good-son’s house, where ye likewise was, ye asked “if he remembered since he broke the cap on your head? and that he had never thriven since, nor should, till you had amends of him;” whereon, he being reconciled with you, he prospered in his worldly state as before.

‘The laying on of a grievous sickness on Christian Harlaw, for sending back a plack’s worth of salt which ye had sent her, it being too little; ye having threatened her that it should be the dearest salt that ever she saw with her eyes, and then, at her entreaty, ye came to her house, and she became presently weel; whereon Christian said, that “if ought ailed her thereafter, she should wyte [blame] you.” Christian Simpson being owing you some money, and because she craved only eight days’ delay to pay it, ye threatened in great rage, that “she should have a sore heart ere that day eight days;” according whereto, the said Christian’s husband broke his leg within the said eight days.

1643.

‘John Robison, having called you a witch, you, in malice, laid a flux on him by your sorcery. Appearing to John Cockburn in the night, when both doors and windows were fast closed, and terrifying him in his sleep, because he had discorded with your daughter the day before. Causing all William Smith’s means to evanish, to the intent he might never be able to relieve some clothes he had pawned beside you, worth an 100 lb., for 14 merks Scots only. Onlaying a grievous sickness on Janet Walker lying in childbed; and then ye being sent for, and the said Janet’s sister begging her health at you for God’s sake, ye assented, and she recovered of her sickness presently by your sorcery.

‘Being disappointed of having Alexander Johnston’s bairn’s name, ye, in a great rage and anger, told him, that “it should be telling him 40 lb. betwixt and that time twelvemonth, that he had given you his bairn’s name;” whereon he took a strange sickness, and languished long; and at length, by persuasive of neighbours, he came to your house, and after he had eaten and drunken with you, ye with your sorcery made him whole. Item, the child whose name ye got not was past eleven years ere he could go.

‘Having fallen in a controversy with Margaret Williamson, ye most outrageously wished the devil to blow her blind; after which she by your sorcery took a grievous sickness, whereof she went blind. Laying a madness on Andrew Wilson, conform to your threatening, wishing the devil to rive the soul out of him (which words, the time of his frenzy, were never out of his mouth), and that because he had fallen in a brawling with your daughter. Item, for taking off it.

‘Bearing company with the devil these twenty-eight years by-past; for consulting with him for laying on and taking off diseases, as weel on men as women and bestial; which is notourly known.’

1643.

It clearly appears that this woman had, at the utmost, been guilty of bad wishes towards her neighbours, and that if these had any effect, it was only through their superstitious apprehensions. We may suppose such to be the type of a class of cases—the simply maledictory. It is fairly presumable, however, that, while the community was so ignorant as to believe that malediction could have positively injurious effects, it would occasionally have these effects by its influence on the imagination, and consequently become an active evil. In this we can see a possible cause of the long persistence of the belief in witches. The ignorant, seeing an effect, and not observing the influence of the imagination in the case, would of course find no objection to laying it all to the account of witchcraft. The enlightened, again, disbelieving witchcraft, but at the same time ignorant of the influence of imagination, would have no alternative but to deny the facts; and this unreasoning and unsound scepticism, being contrary to the experience of the ignorant, would fail to disabuse them of their superstitions.

In this year (December 31, 1643) is an entry in the parish register of Markinch, Fifeshire—‘Compeared Janet Brown, and being posed if she used charms, she confessed that she did charm two several persons—viz., James Hullock and Janet Scott, but no moe. The words of the charm are these:

“Our Lord forth raide,

His foal’s foot slade:

Our Lord down lighted,

His foal’s foot righted;

Saying: Flesh to flesh, blood to blood, and bane to bane,

In our Lord his name.”

Being posed who learned her the foresaid charm, answered, ane man in the parish of Strathmiglo.’[98]

There is reason to believe that this is a charm of great antiquity for the healing of bruises and sprains.[99]

1643.

The faith in necromantic power being wholly a part of the religious earnestness of the time, it is only to be expected that the clergy should appear deeply interested in prosecutions of this class, and sedulous that suspected persons should be duly tried and the guilty brought to punishment. In October 1644, Margaret Young, spouse of William Morison, merchant in Dysart, described herself, in a petition to the Privy Council, as having lain miserably in prison for ten weeks, in consequence of a false accusation got up against her as ‘a consulter of spirits,’ by a few neighbours acting under a feeling of ‘spleen and envy,’ ‘albeit she is ane honest young woman, of good reputation, without any scandal or blot, and never knew nothing of that is put to her charge.’ She had petitioned the Privy Council to have the bailies and ministers of Dysart summoned before them, and ordained to set her at liberty; and on an appointed day, one of the ministers came forward, and craved to have a longer time ‘to see if any dittay sould be given in against her.’ Even that time was now expired, and yet, with no charge against her, she continued to languish in her wretched imprisonment. The lords agreed to liberate Margaret, on her husband giving security to the extent of five hundred merks, that she would compear if afterwards called upon.—P. C. R.

In the ensuing month—so frequent were accusations of witchcraft at this time—one Margaret Thomson, wife of Alexander Gray in Calder, complained before the same tribunal, against the Tutor of Calder and the minister of that parish, for ‘waking her the space of twenty days naked, and having nothing on her but a sackcloth,’ under a charge of witchcraft. She had been ‘laid in the stocks, and kept separate from all company and worldly comfort;’ nor could she ‘see any end of her misery by lawful trial.’ The lords, having the woman’s husband before them, and also the tutor and minister, and no regular charge being forthcoming, ordained her to be liberated upon security.

1644. July 7.

(Sunday) A solemn fast and humiliation was kept throughout Scotland, on account of backsliding from the Covenant, and the prevalence of vice and godlessness; as also to entreat the favour of Heaven for the parliamentary arms, and to pray for the filling of the king’s heart with the love of reformation. A fast in those days was a reality. In Old Aberdeen, the people entered the church at nine o’clock, and continued hearing prayers and sermons till two. They might have then dismissed for a space, but they sat still hearing ‘reading’ till the commencement of afternoon service, which ended at six. Then the bell rang for evening-prayers, which continued till seven. ‘Thus was the people wearied with fasting and praying, under colour of zeal, whilk rather appeared a plain mockery of God.’ On the ensuing Thursday, a similar fast was kept, when the king and queen were prayed for, in a manner, it may be suspected, for which their majesties would not be duly thankful. ‘No prayer to confound the armies raised against him, but rather prayer for their good success.’—Spal.

Sep.

1644.

Immediately after Montrose had gained his first victory at Tippermuir, and while his army lay at Collace, in Perthshire, his adherent, Lord Kilpont, eldest son of the Earl of Airth, lost his life in a lamentable manner. His friend and associate in arms, James Stewart of Ardvoirlich, had been incensed at some outrages committed on his lands by the Irish auxiliaries under Alaster Macdonald or MacCol-keitoch, while they were advancing to join Montrose. He had complained to Montrose, had had a violent altercation with Alaster MacCol, and it had been found necessary to place both him and MacCol under arrest. This step was taken at the recommendation of Lord Kilpont. To pursue the narrative of a descendant of Stewart: ‘Montrose, seeing the evil of such a feud at such a critical time, effected a sort of reconciliation between them, and forced them to shake hands in his presence; when it was said that Ardvoirlich, who was a very powerful man, took such a hold of Macdonald’s hand as to make the blood start from his fingers. Still, it would appear, Ardvoirlich was by no means reconciled.

‘A few days after the battle of Tippermuir, when Montrose with his army encamped at Collace, an entertainment was given by him to his officers, in honour of the victory he had obtained, and Kilpont and his comrade Ardvoirlich were of the party. After returning to their quarters, Ardvoirlich, who seemed still to brood over his quarrel with Macdonald, and being heated with drink, began to blame Lord Kilpont for the part he had taken in preventing his obtaining redress, and reflecting against Montrose for not allowing him what he considered proper reparation. Kilpont of course defended the conduct of himself and his relative Montrose, till their arguments came to high words; and, finally, from the state they were both in, by an easy transition to blows, when Ardvoirlich with his dirk struck Kilpont dead on the spot. He immediately fled, and under cover of a thick mist escaped pursuit, leaving his eldest son, Henry, who had been mortally wounded at Tippermuir, on his death-bed.’[100]

1644.

This story will be generally recognised as one which has supplied some leading incidents in the Legend of Montrose. The present version of it, more favourable in some features to Ardvoirlich than that which occurs in Wishart’s Life of Montrose, was communicated to Sir Walter Scott in 1830 by Robert Stewart of Ardvoirlich, who stated that it had come to his father from a man who lived to a hundred years of age, the great-grandson of the homicide laird by a natural son, who was present with him at the time of the deplorable incident.[101]

Oct.

After the taking of Newcastle in this month by the Scottish Covenanting army, ‘the pest’ came from that place[102] into Scotland, where it met a field highly calculated for its diffusion. There had been dearth the preceding year from deficient harvest, and since then, what with the drawing away of men for the army, the grievance of a heavy excise to support it, the incessant harassment of many districts by hostile and plundering armies, and the extreme anxiety and distress of mind occasioned by the civil war, assisted, doubtless, by the generally depressing effect of incessant preachings, prayings, fastings, and thanksgivings, by which the whole sunshine of life was, as it were, squeezed out of the community—those vital powers which resist and beat off disease must have been reduced to a point much below average. It is not surprising, therefore, that the plague took deadly hold of the country, and rapidly spread from Edinburgh to Borrowstounness, Kelso, Perth, and other towns, all of which were grievously afflicted by it during the next year.

1645.

1645.

Of the ecclesiastical discipline of this period, and its bearing upon the habits of the people, we get a good idea from the Presbytery Record of Strathbogie, which has been published by the Spalding Club. The whole moral energy of the country appears as concentrated in an effort to fix a certain code of theological views, including a rigid observance of the Sabbath, the suppression of witchcraft, the maintenance of a serious style of manners, and the extirpation of popery.

A committee of the presbytery made periodical visits to the several parishes, called the minister and chief parishioners before them, and examined the parties separately as to each other’s spiritual condition and religious practice. For example, at Rhynie, the minister, Henry Ross, being removed, the elders were sworn and interrogated as to his efficiency. They ‘all in ane voice deponed that concerning his literature he was very weak, and gave them little or no comfort in his ministry; but, as concerning his life, he was mended, and was blameless now in his conversation.’ The elders being in their turn removed, the minister was called in and examined regarding them. He ‘regretted that the parishioners frequented not the church, nor assisted him in his discipline, but despised him.’

To be absent any considerable number of times from church was punishable; and if the parishioner proved contumacious, he was liable to be excommunicated—a doom inferring a loss of all civil rights, and a complete separation from human converse.[103] To refuse to take the Covenant, or to have any dealings with the loyalist Huntly, brought men into similar troubles. Old women using charms for healing, persons ‘kindling needfire’ for the cure of cattle,[104] or reserving a field for the devil (the Guidman’s Croft), and females pilgrimising to holy wells, according to old custom, were all vigorously proceeded against, in obedience to repeated acts of the General Assembly for uprooting of all superstition. Irregularities between the sexes, and even quarrelling and scolding, had to be expiated in sackcloth before the congregation. Drunkenness and swearing were also censured. In dealing with these offences, an unsparing inquisition into domestic and family matters was used, and no rank, age, or sex seems to have afforded the subject any protection.

1645.

As specimens of religious offences—a gentleman was prosecuted for bringing home a millstone on a Sunday; another, for gathering gooseberries in time of sermon. It was found regarding Patrick Wilson, that he had sat up with a company drinking till after cockcrow, consuming in all eleven pints—that is, about two dozen quart bottles—of ale; he had struck a man, and railed in his drink at several gentlemen of the parish. ‘The brethren ordained Patrick to stand in sackcloth two Sabbaths, and pay four merks penalty.’

The Lady Frendraught,[105] who now lived at Kinnairdie, in the parish of Aberchirder, is a conspicuous subject of the discipline of the Strathbogie presbytery, on account of her being a papist. To leave this inoffensive lady in the quiet exercise of her own religious forms was not within the capabilities of the Christian charity of that day. It is no over-statement of the case that this ecclesiastical body set themselves to simply harass her out of her peculiar convictions—or rather professions; for they seem to have been content when they could effect an external conformity, and the horrible guilt of forcing a fellow-creature into a mere hypocrisy, seems never to have been present to their minds.

1645.

So early as 1636, the synod had sent one of their number to deal with her, and induce her to go to church; for a time she conformed. Two years after, a similar visitation of the lady had become necessary; so she and her daughter Elizabeth were summoned for ‘not hearing of the word, and not communicating.’ What came of this does not appear; but in 1643, a deputation of ministers was sent to deal with her according to the ordinance of the General Assembly, and to report her answer. It was soon after reported that ‘she promised to hear the word, and desired a time for further resolution.’ It was then agreed to give her some short space to decide on becoming ‘a daily hearer,’ but ‘if she refused, the process to go on against her.’ The poor lady once more promised ‘to hear the word, as she had done before,’ and it was resolved to ask the advice of the General Assembly on the point. Years passed on, without bringing her further than to agree to go to the church which her husband frequented—which was out of the bounds of this presbytery. What immediately happened after this does not appear; but, on the presbytery resolving (January 1647) again to proceed against her ladyship, it was reported that she was out of the country. A few months later, the commissioners of the General Assembly ‘granted her liberty to be ane ordinar hearer of the word at Forgue for a time.’ This, however, did not stop the process. The lady was hunted into another presbytery, where she seems to have kept them at bay for a little while. In June 1648, Mr John Reidford reported that he had spoken her, but ‘found no effect of his travels;’ he required further time. Soon after, the same minister reported that on a second interview, she expressed herself as ‘willing to hear the word in any kirk save Aberchirder and such as are within the presbytery of Strathbogie.’ This was not to be endured. She was immediately summoned as a contumacious person. On the day of call, she ‘compeared not;’ and Mr John Reidford, her parish minister, proceeded to give from his pulpit, on successive Sundays, a series of three admonitions addressed to her; then, in like manner, a series of three prayers. As her ladyship continued to disregard all proceedings in her case, the presbytery prepared itself to pass the awful doom of excommunication, when, behold! another act of concession on her part stays all: she agrees to be present at family worship in her own house—her husband was all this time a leading Covenanter—and promised also to hear sermon; whereupon the sentence was suspended for a time. In August 1649, the minister Reidford reported that she had ‘keepit sermon at Innerkeithing the last Lord’s day, and daily keepit family worship.’ This was not enough. They instruct Reidford ‘to shew her that, if she did not conform in all points, the sentence of excommunication would be pronounced before the next assembly.’ Reidford soon after pleaded for her, that she had heard three sermons; but the brethren ‘thought not that kind of hearing satisfactory.’ They ordained him to put her to a decided test at once, by offering her the Covenant: failing her subscribing that, Reidford was to pronounce sentence.

1645.

The lady, with the ingenuity of her sex, contrived once more to put them off—she told Reidford she would take a thought about it. Meanwhile, she amused them with hopes by continuing to attend church; telling them ‘she was not fully satisfied for subscribing the Covenant.’ But even female wit could not hold out for ever against such a siege. In June 1650, after an incessant harassment of fourteen years, she gave them ‘satisfaction’ by subscribing the Covenant, and thus abjuring in words the faith she still held in her heart. Little more than two years had elapsed, when the presbytery learned that she had ‘relapsed to popery,’ and appointed commissioners to confer with her on the subject. It was found she was now obstinate in her original belief, ‘professing, moreover, that she repented of her former repentance more than of any sin that ever she committed, and thought that she had reason to repent all her lifetime for subscribing the National Covenant and Solemn League and Covenant.’ Then took place a renewal of the same tedious dealings with the lady, ending at last in 1654, in a peremptory order for her excommunication. By that time, however, excommunication had lost much of its terrors, as Cromwell, then master of Scotland, would not allow the sentence to have any consequences in respect of civil rights.

Many traits of barbarous manners occur in the record, shewing that the clergy had somewhat rough materials to deal with, in their efforts to build up a perfect system. Many offences of a violent, and even sanguinary character, are noticed. There were also several persons so far left to a wicked nature as to hold the dicta of the reverend presbytery itself in contempt. For instance, John Tulloch, on being summoned regarding an irregularity with Elspeth Gordon, answered, ‘the devil a care cared he for their excommunication; excommunicate him the morn [to-morrow] if they pleased.’ Three witnesses attested regarding James Middleton, that, on his being rebuked by the minister, they heard him say that ‘he cared not for him, nor any minister in Scotland;’ and when the minister threatened to put him in the jougs, they heard him say that ‘neither he nor the best minister within seven miles durst do so much.’ One William Gordon, in Dumbennan parish, declined (June 1652) the authority of the presbytery, in consideration of the many sad experiences he had had of the usurpation of civil power by the Presbyterian government, and its ‘tyrannous persecuting of men’s consciences who, out of tender scruples, did differ from their opinions in matters indifferent and circumstantial; as also, finding that the greatest part of their prayer and preaching doth more tender the advancement of their private interest and faction than the propagation of the gospel; and seeing their frequent railing against the authority and civil power which God hath set over us, whereby the people’s minds are kept unsettled and averse from the cordial union of both nations, which, by God’s great mercy, we are now like to enjoy.’ He declared himself separate from them, and that he would ‘no more esteem of their excommunication than they did formerly of the pope.’ On sentence of excommunication being passed on this recusant, ‘he lookit very frowardly, and uttered himself most proudly and maliciously.’

1645.

The opinion of the royalist party regarding the general condition of the nation at the time when the Covenanting spirit was at its height is sketched by one of their number. ‘Seven years,’ says he, ‘had this terrible distemper of the unparalleled Covenant ruled, or rather overruled this kingdom.... It was now grown to ane height, and had cast this nation in a new mould, for the laws were rolled up in oblivion, the College of Justice was discharged from sitting, and over all the land the ordinary seats of justice were no more frequented, only the private committees in every shire and county ordained what they list, and must not be controlled, under pain of a fearful plunder. Nor was it right or wrong that must be decided by these committees, but grievous exactions and heavy subsidies, with new stents, almost every quarter, of horse and foot levies.... The poor was not pitied nor the rich respected; the good man was not remembered nor the virtuous man rewarded: only the soldier was in esteem and enriched, who could murder, kill, and oppress.’—Pa. Gordon.

At the same time, the general expressions of the church of the day involve heavy charges against the clergy themselves, partly founded perhaps on actual offences in their case, and partly the result merely of the disposition to think every grace of poor human nature insufficient, in comparison with the ideal religious standard set up. Thus we find the Commissioners of the General Assembly denouncing ‘the enormities and corruptions observed to be in the ministry,’ and making out a list which is difficult to reconcile with our ideas of the boasted golden age of the Scottish Presbyterian polity. There is ‘much fruitless conversing in company,’ ‘great worldliness,’ ‘slighting of God’s worship in families,’ ‘want of gravity in carriage and apparel,’ ‘tippling and bearing company in untimeous drinking in taverns,’ ‘discountenancing of the godly,’ even a want of decent observance of the Sabbath. ‘There are also to be found amongst us [some] who use small and minced oathes.’[106]

Feb. 13.

Notwithstanding the high pressure exercised by the kirk at this time in matters of discipline, we have ample evidence that there were many sad and pestilent escapes of human nature, occasioning infinite distress to sessions, presbyteries, and assemblies. There was one old popular institution, called the Penny Bridal, which has been under notice before, as producing a suspicious amount of happiness among the commonalty. The General Assembly now saw proper to launch a solemn act against these merry assemblies, ordaining the presbyteries to put them under the severest restrictions.[107]

1645.

Two years after, February 7, 1647, the presbyteries of Haddington and Dunbar are found taking measures for putting this act in force; and from their proceedings, we incidentally learn how far the late religious fervours were from decidedly reforming or purifying manners. Multitudes exceeding twenty assembled on these occasions. The paying of extravagant sums—sums exceeding 12s. for a man and 8s. for a woman (that is, one shilling and eightpence respectively)—caused great immoralities—‘piping and dancing before and after dinner or supper,’ drinking after dinner, and so forth. ‘Moreover, loose speeches, singing of licentious songs, and profane minstrelling, in time of dinner or supper, tends to great deboshry.’ ‘Through all which causes, penny bridals, in our judgment, become seminaries of all profanation.’ They therefore ordained that not above twenty persons should ever gather on such occasions; that the men should never give above a shilling, and the women eightpence; and that all piping, dancing, singing, and loose speeches, should cease. To make sure that these rules should be observed, it was further ordained that a pair about to marry and to hold a penny bridal, should not have the ceremony performed till they had lodged twenty pounds or other guarantee, to be forfeited in the event of disobedience.[108]

Feb. 27.

The arrangements for the maintenance of a militia in Scotland were fixed by the Estates. Each county and burgh was ordered to raise and maintain a certain number of foot-soldiers (exclusive of horse), according to their respective amounts of population, at £9 Scots per month for each man. The lists are curious, as informing us of the assumed comparative population of the several counties and burghs in that age.

1645.

Counties.—Aberdeen, 727; Ayr, 674; Argyle, 323; Banff, 159; Berwick, 395; Bute, 51; Caithness, 105; Clackmannan, 58; Cromarty, 11; Dumbarton, 137; Dumfries, 494; Edinburgh, 463; Elgin, 210; Fyfe, 738; Forfar, 556; Haddington, 376; Inverness, 464; Kincardine, 174; Kinross, 16; Lanark, 598; Linlithgow, 194; Nairn, 35; Peebles, 182; Perth, 889; Renfrew, 245; Roxburgh, 642; Selkirk, 142; Stirling, 282; Sutherland, 47; Wigton and Kirkcudbright, 486. Burghs.—Aberdeen, 160; Aberbrothock, 10; Ayr, 41; Annan, 3; Anstruther Easter, 31; Anstruther Wester, 6; Banff, 8; Brechin, 20; Burntisland, 16; Crail, 24; Cupar, 24; Culross, 12; Cullen, 4; Dumfries, 44; Dunbar, 12; Dumbarton, 12; Dunfermline, 12; Dundee, 186; Dysart, 30; Edinburgh, 574; Elgin, 20; Forfar, 6; Forres, 6; Galloway, 1; Glasgow, 110; Haddington, 36; Jedburgh, 18; Inverkeithing, 10; Inverness, 40; Irvine, 23; Kilrenny, 3; Kinghorn, 14; Kirkcaldy, 46; Kirkcudbright, 20; Lanark, 16; Lauder, 5; Linlithgow, 30; Lochmaben, 3; Montrose, 53; Nairn, 4; North Berwick, 4; Peebles, 10; Perth, 110; Pittenweem, 15; Queensferry, 7; Renfrew, 10; Rothesay, 5; Rutherglen, 5; Sanquhar, 3; St Andrews, 60; Selkirk, 10; Stirling, 36; Tain, 12; Wigton, 15; Whithorn, 5.

The total number is, for counties, 9873; for burghs, 1879—total, 11,772. If we assume that the aim was to call out one soldier for every sixty souls, the entire population would be 706,320. Edinburgh would have 34,440 inhabitants; Glasgow and Perth, each 6600; Stirling and Haddington, each 2160; Ayr, 2460; Dundee, 11,160; Inverness, 2400; St Andrews, 3600; Dumfries, 2640; Montrose, 3180; &c.

Apr. 1.

‘This day, Kelso, with the haill houses, corns, barns, barn-yards, burnt by fire, caused by a clenging of ane of the houses thereof whilk was infected with the plague.’—Hope’s Diary.

The pest appears by this time to have reached Edinburgh. The Town Council agreed (April 10) with Joannes Paulitius, M.D., that he should visit the infected at a salary of eighty pounds Scots per month. A great number of people affected by the malady were quartered in huts in the King’s Park; others were kept at home; and for the relief of these, the aid of the charitable was invoked from the pulpits. The session of the Holyroodhouse or Canongate parish ordained (June 27) that ‘to avoid contention in this fearful time,’ those who should die in the Park ‘shall be buried therein, and not within the church-yard, except they mortified (being able to do so) somewhat ad pios usus, for the relief of the other poor, being in extreme indigence.’

The Estates, then sitting in Edinburgh, were pleased (August 2) to order five hundred bolls of meal to be given from the public magazine ‘for relief of the poor of Leith, which are sorely visited with the pestilence.’—Bal.

1645.

Under the pressing exigencies caused by the epidemic, the Town Council of Edinburgh came to the resolution (August 13) of liberating those confined for debt in the Tolbooth, obtaining first the consent of creditors. They retained, however, several political prisoners, particularly the Earl of Crawford and Lord Ogilvie, who had signalised themselves by their fidelity to the king. A few weeks after, Montrose having at Kilsyth overthrown the last militia army that had been mustered against him, came to Bothwell, and thence despatched a letter to the Edinburgh magistrates, demanding the liberation of these captives, under threats of fire and sword; and they then completed their jail delivery. The marquis was solely prevented by the plague from advancing and taking possession of the city.

Among the regulations established during the time of this pestilence was one for preventing people from travelling into any district suspected of being under the influence of the disease. We find it proclaimed, for example, in the parish kirk of Humbie, August 10, ‘that none presume, either masters or servants, men or women, to go out of the bounds that they dwell, upon whatsomever errand or business, to any suspected place, without special leave of the masters of the ground.’ If any transgressed this order, ‘they sall not be received back to their own houses or dwellings, but their houses sall be locked and closed up.’ No stranger could be received into a house without ‘liberty from the masters of the ground and the kirk-session conjointly.’[109]

On this occurrence of the plague, a Scotch gentleman is found copying and sending to a friend the following specific for the disease, an invention of Dr Burgess:

‘Tak three mutchkins of Malvoysie, and ane handfull of red sage, and a handfull of rue, and boil them till a mutchkin be wasted. Then strain it, and set it over the fire again; then put thereinto ane pennyworth of long pepper, half ane of ginger, and ane quarter of ane unce of nutmegs, all beaten together; then let it boil a little, and put thereto five pennyworth of Mithridate and two of treacle, and a quarter of a mutchkin of the best Angelic water.

‘Keep this all your life, above all bodily treasures. Tak it always warm, both morning and evening, ane half spoonfull if ye be in health, and one or two if ye be infected; and sweat thereupon.

‘In all your plague-time, under God, trust to this; for there was never man, woman, nor child, that this deceived.

‘This is not only for the common plague which is called the Sickness, but also for the small-pox, missles, surfeat, and divers other diseases.’[110]

1645.

It is understood that those who died by the plague were usually buried in places apart from churchyards, from an apprehension that the infection might burst out and spread, if the graves should be reopened. We find that the Estates ordained (August 4), ‘since that it pleased God to call the Laird of Craigies of the pest, who was lodged in the sheriff-clerk’s house, that these that are within the house shall inter him in a remote place of the ordinary burial-place of the town.’—Bal. In the parish of Cramond, there are four graves of victims of the plague, in solitary situations; two of them at a place called the Whinny Haugh, in King’s Cramond Park, marked with small head-stones, on which are these inscriptions: ‘Here lies Janet Dalmahoy, who deceased the 20th of October 1647,’ and ‘Here lies John D——, who died the 20th of November 1647.’[111]

On this occasion, the pest lingered in the country for a considerable time. It was in full force in Glasgow towards the close of 1646. The infected were either shut up in their houses or sent out to a muir at some distance from the town. ‘December 12, compeared the haill tacksmen of the mill, ladles, tron, and brig,’ complaining to the Council that, ‘in respect of the sickness and visitation, they could get naething of their duties.’ Graves of persons who were suspected of having died of pest were ordered to be marked. The disease does not appear to have entirely ceased in Glasgow till October 1647.—M. of G.

1645.

An anecdote illustrating the terrors inspired in private circles by the plague, is related with regard to this occurrence of the disease, in the memoir of the Stewarts of Coltness by Sir Archibald Stewart Denham of Westshield, a gentleman born in 1683. Speaking of Sir Thomas Stewart, he says: ‘A remarkable incident happened him in his youth, when the pestilence broke out in Edinburgh in 1645. He with a son of Westshield, a merchant apprentice, had gone to a public-house, and received change of some money, and next day that house was shut up, as infected with the plague. This gave a strong alarm at home. James Denham was sent for, and both were strictly examined as to every circumstance. Thomas had received the money in change, and so frightened were all, that none would touch the pocket in which the money was, but at a distance; and after the pocket was cut out, it was with tongs cast in a fire, and both lads were shut up in a bed-chamber, sequestrate from all company, and had victuals at proper times handed into them. While they thus stood their quarantine, by strength of imagination or power of fancy, some fiery spots broke out on their arms and thighs, and they imagined no less than unavoidable death. They mutually lamented; Thomas had more courage and Christian resignation than his companion. “James,” said he, “let us trust in God and in the family prayers, for Jesus’ sake, who, as he cures the plague of the heart, can, if we are infected, cure the most noisome disease of the body.” They both went to their knees, and joined in most solemn prayer, had much spiritual comfort, and in a fortnight were set at liberty, and the family retired to the country.’[112]

As far as appears, the plague did not visit Scotland after this time—a circumstance the more remarkable, as it was so deadly in London in 1665, and even reappeared there in the ensuing year. In connection with the plague, the tale of Bessie Bell and Mary Gray has obtained a large currency in Scotland. According to a report on the subject, communicated to the Antiquarian Society in 1781 by Major Barry of Lednoch,[113] the incident took place in the year 1666; but this is probably a mistake, arising from an assumption that the last great pestilence of London was general over the country (1665 being further mistaken for 1666). Major Barry says:

‘When I first came to Lednoch, I was shewn (in a part of my ground called the Dronoch Haugh) a heap of stones almost covered with briers, thorns, and fern, which they assured me was the burial-place of Bessie Bell and Mary Gray.

1645.

‘The tradition of the country relating to these ladies is, that Mary’s father was Laird of Lednoch, and Bessie Bell’s of Kinvaid, a place in this neighbourhood, and an intimate friendship subsisted between them: that, while Miss Bell was on a visit to Miss Gray, the plague broke out in the year 1666; in order to avoid which, they built themselves a bower about three-quarters of a mile west from Lednoch House, in a very retired and romantic place called Burn Braes, on the side of the Beanchie Burn. Here they lived for some time; but the plague raging with great fury, they caught the infection (it is said) from a young gentleman who was in love with them both. He used to bring them their provision. They died in this bower, and were buried in the Dronoch Haugh, at the foot of a brae of the same name, and near to the bank of the river Almond. The burial-place lies about half a mile west from the present house of Lednoch [now called Lyndoch].’[114]

The major adds: ‘I have removed all the rubbish from this little spot of classic ground, enclosed it with a wall, planted it round with flowering shrubs, made up the grave double, and fixed a stone in the wall, on which are engraved the names of Bessie Bell and Mary Gray.’

It will be found that while the plague raged in London in 1665, Scotland was free of it; neither is there any notice of the malady occurring in 1666, either in Lamont’s or Nicol’s Diary, where it could not have failed to be mentioned if it had occurred. It therefore seems necessary to place the story of Bessie Bell and Mary Gray under 1645.[115]

The sad fate of the two girls became the subject of a ballad, which commenced thus:

‘Bessie Bell and Mary Gray,

They were twa bonnie lasses,

They biggit a bower on yon burn brae,

And theekit it ower wi’ rashes.’

The rest has been lost, except the concluding stanza:

‘They wadna lie in Methven kirk-yard,

Amang their gentle kin;

But they wad lie in Dronoch Haugh,

To beek fornent the sin.’[116]

1646. Oct.

A set of ‘malignants’ intruded themselves into the magistracy of Glasgow, ‘and at the very same time did the pestilence arrive in the town.’ Spreull, the town-clerk, with Mr George Porterfield and Mr John Graham, had to go to Edinburgh to complain of this intrusion before the Estates. During the winter, while they were absent, the plague was so severe, that the malignants would fain have been quit of the magistracy. ‘In February 1648,’ says Spreull, ‘having carried the point at the parliament, we came home and were reponed; whereupon, though there were several hundreds of families shut up for the sickness, yet for twenty days after, there died not so much as one person thereof, and frae thenceforth it did abate till it evanished.’[118]

1647. Sep. 17.

A letter of this date, from James Morphie, tailor in Edinburgh, to the Earl of Airly, has been preserved, and is in its way a curious memorial of the past. When found a few years ago in Cortachie Castle, it contained five pieces of cloth, being, we may presume, those alluded to by the writer, and all as fresh as on the day they were cut.

1647.

‘Right Honourable Lord—I received your lordship’s letter, and have tried for the nearest swatches of cloths I could find, conform to the orders received, and has enclosed them in this letter, with the prices written by them. As for the Kentish cloths your lordship desired, there is few or none to be found; but we expect some to be home shortly. There is only ane swatch of Kentish cloth here, with the price thereof. Likewise receive the piece that was taken out of the tail of your lordship’s doublet. Any of thir clothes your lordship pleases, send for them by the first occasion, or [ere] they be gone. Not troubling your lordship ony forder, but rests your lordship’s humble and obedient servant, James Morphie. From Edinburgh, the 17 day of September 1647. [Addressed] For the Right Honourable the Earl of Airly.’

The letter and pieces of cloth were placed in the Arbroath Museum.[119]

1647.

‘Two years before this, one Captain George Scott came to Inverness, and built a ship of a prodigious bigness for bulk and burden—never such a one seen in our north seas. The carpenters he brought with him to the north, and my Lord Lovat gave him wood—fir and oak—in Dalcattack Woods. I myself was aboard of her in the Road of Kessock, April 1645, and many more, to whom it was a wonder. She set sail the day before the battle of Auldearn; and among other passengers that went in her south were—Colonel Fraser, and his lady, Christina Baillie; Hugh Fraser, younger of Clanvacky, and Andrew Fraser in Leys; also John and William Fraser in Leys. This ship rode at anchor in the river mouth of Nairn, when the battle of Auldearn was fought in view. Captain Scott enlarged the ship afterwards, as a frigate, for war, and sailed with her to the Straits, his brother William with him. William was made a colonel, at Venice, and his martial achievements in defence of that state against the Turks may very well admit him to be ranked amongst our worthies. He became vice-admiral to the Venetian fleet, and the bane and terror of Mussulman navigators. Whether they had gallies, galloons, or galliasses, or great war-ships, it was all one to him. He set upon all alike, saying, the more they were the more he would kill, and the stronger the rencounter should be, the greater should be his honour, and the richer his prize. He oftentimes so scourged the Archipelago of the Mussulmans, that the Ottoman power, and the very gates of Constantinople, would quake at the report of his victories; and he did so ferret them out of all the creeks of the Adriatic Gulf, and so sharply put them to it, that they hardly knew in what part of the Mediterranean they should best shelter themselves from the fury of his blows. He died in his bed of a fever, in the Isle of Candy, in 1652. He was truly the glory of his nation and country, and was honoured, after his death, with a statue of marble, which I saw, near the Rialto of Venice, April 1659.’—Fraser of Wardlaw’s MS., 1666.

1648. June.

Amongst those who looked ill upon the expedition which the Duke of Hamilton was preparing for the relief of the king in England, was his Grace’s own parish minister at Hamilton, Mr James Naismith. Wodrow records, as a traditionary story, that, on the Sunday before the Duke went to England, Mr Naismith preached before his Grace on the text: ‘Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him: but weep sore for him that goeth away: for he shall return no more, nor see his native country,’ Jer. xxii. 10. The preacher said that God would regard neither dukes nor generals, and as sure as the Bible was the word of God, any who went on in a course of opposition to him, should not return in peace. ‘On the Monday after, when the duke was leaving Hamilton, there was a crowd of women looking on. Mr Naismith said: “Hold him! hold him! for you will never see his face any more.” The Duke at his death in England,[120] said he would give never so much to see his own faithful minister, Mr Naismith.’—Wod. An.

July 28.

The Shorter Catechism recently framed by the Westminster Assembly of Divines, for the instruction ‘of such as are of weaker capacity,’ and which has since been in constant and universal use in Scotland, was this day sanctioned by the General Assembly, sitting in Edinburgh.

Oct. 4.

1648.

Oliver Cromwell paid his first visit to Edinburgh. He came hot from the destruction of the Duke of Hamilton’s semi-royalist Scotch army at Preston, designing to confer with the heads of the ultra-presbyterian party for the extinction of that kind of opposition in the northern part of the island. The Earl of Kirkcudbright and Major-general Holburn conducted him into the city, where he was lodged very handsomely in the Earl of Moray’s house in the Canongate; a strong guard of his own troops was mounted at the gate. ‘The Earl of Moray’s house,’ says Thomas Carlyle, ‘still stands in the Canongate, well known to the inhabitants there—a solid spacious mansion, which, when all bright and new two hundred years ago, must have been a very adequate lodging.’ ‘As soon as he came there, the Chancellor [Loudon], the Marquis of Argyle, the Earl of Cassillis, the Lord Burleigh, the Provost of Edinburgh,[121] with many other lords and gentlemen, went to pay their respects to him; and the next day, the Earl of Cassillis and Sir Archibald Johnston of Warriston went to visit him on the part of the Committee of Estates, to know what he had to communicate to them. Cromwell presented them a writing, whereby he demanded that, in order to keep Hamilton’s party from being able to rise up again in Scotland, where they might embroil the two kingdoms, they would be pleased to order that none of those who had carried arms under his command, or who had consented to the invasion of England, should have any public employment in Scotland. The committee granted him that article.’ Such was the ostensible, and, as far as appears on any good evidence, the real business between Cromwell and the committee men. Bishop Guthry adds the vulgar royalist rumour: ‘While Cromwell remained in the Canongate, those that haunted him most were, besides the Marquis of Argyle, Loudon the chancellor, the Earl of Lothian, the Lords Arbuthnot, Elcho, and Burleigh; and of ministers, Mr David Dickson, Mr Robert Blair, and Mr James Guthrie. What passed among them came not to be known infallibly; but it was talked very loud, that he did communicate to them his design in reference to the king, and had their assent thereto.’

Cromwell was only three days in Edinburgh on this occasion. On Saturday, all business being adjusted, ‘“when we were about to come away, several coaches were sent to bring up the lieutenant-general, the Earl of Leven [governor of the Castle and Scotch commander-in-chief], with Sir Arthur Haselrig, and the rest of the officers, to Edinburgh Castle; where was provided a very sumptuous banquet [old Leven doing the honours], my Lord Marquis of Argyle and divers other lords being present to grace the entertainment. At our departure, many pieces of ordnance and a volley of small shot was given us from the Castle; and some lords convoying us out of the city, we were parted.” The lord provost had defrayed us all the while in the handsomest manner.’—Carlyle.

1648.

To the fall of this year is to be traced the origin of the term Whig, as applicable to a well-known party in the state. Burnet, who was likely to know the facts well, makes the following statement: ‘The south-west counties of Scotland have seldom corn enough to serve them round the year; and the northern parts producing more than they need, those in the west come in the summer to buy at Leith the stores that come from the north. From a word Whiggan, used in driving their horses, all that drove were called the Whiggamores, and, shorter, the Whigs.... After the news came down of Duke Hamilton’s defeat, the ministers animated their people to rise and march to Edinburgh; and they came up marching on the head of their parishes, with an unheard-of fury, praying and preaching all the way as they came. The Marquis of Argyle and his party came and headed them, they being about 6000. This was called the Whiggamores’ Inroad [strictly the Whigs’ Raid]; and ever after that, all that opposed the court came in contempt to be called Whigs.’

We find John Nicoll, the diarist, in 1666, speaking of the west-country Presbyterians as ‘commonly called the Whigs,’ implying that the term was new. The sliding of the appellation from these obscure people to the party of the opposition in London a few years later, is indicated by Daniel Defoe as occurring immediately after the affair of Bothwell Bridge in 1679. The Duke of Monmouth then returning from his command in Scotland, instead of thanks for his good service, found himself under blame for using the insurgents too mercifully. ‘And Lauderdale told Charles, with an oath, that the Duke had been so civil to the Whigs, because he was himself a Whig in his heart. This made it a court-word; and in a little while, all the friends and followers of the Duke began to be called Whigs.’[122]

1648.

The time of the Whigs’ Raid, and from that to the execution of Montrose (May 1650), may be considered as that of an entire supremacy of the religious or rather ecclesiastical system for which the majority of the nation had been struggling for several years. The view of it taken by the royalists is sketched in strong terms by the writers on their side. ‘The kingdom groaned under the most cruel tyranny that ever scourged and afflicted the sons of men. The jails were crammed full of innocent people; the scaffolds daily smoked with the blood of our best patriots. The bones of the dead were dug out of their graves, and their living friends were compelled to ransom them at exorbitant sums. Such as they were pleased to call Malignants were taxed and pillaged at discretion. The Committee of the Kirk sat at the helm, and they were supported by a small number of fanatical persons and others who called themselves the Committee of Estates, but were truly nothing else but the barbarous executioners of their wrath and vengeance. Nor were they ill satisfied with their office, on account of the profits it brought them by fines, sequestrations, and forfeitures, besides the other opportunities it gave them of amassing riches. Every parish had a tyrant, who made the greatest lord in his district stoop to his authority. The kirk was the place where he kept his court; the pulpit, his throne, or tribunal, from whence he issued his terrible decrees; and twelve or fourteen sour enthusiasts, under the title of elders, composed his council. If any, of what quality soever, had the assurance to disobey his edicts, the dreadful sentence of excommunication was immediately thundered out against him, his goods and chattels confiscated and seized, and he himself being looked upon as actually in the possession of the devil, and irretrievably doomed to eternal perdition, all that conversed with him were in no better esteem.’

The moderates involved in the late expedition of Duke Hamilton for the king, were now brought to punishment. ‘They compelled every one that escaped to sit several Sundays in sackcloth before them, mounted, as a spectacle of reproach and infamy, upon the stool of repentance in view of “the elect,” and to undergo such other penance as they were pleased to impose.’[123]

Amongst the penitents was the Chancellor Earl of Loudon, of whom it was scarcely to have been expected that he should join in the Engagement. His submission is alleged by Burnet to have been enforced by his wife, a high Covenanter and an heiress, who threatened him with a process for conjugal unfaithfulness, ‘in which she could have had very copious proofs.’ So he made a public repentance in the church of Edinburgh, ‘with many tears confessing his weakness in yielding to the temptation of what had a show of honour and loyalty.’

INTERREGNUM: 1649-1660.

The execution of the king, among its other bad effects, put enmity between the ruling powers of Scotland and England. A set of Scottish commissioners protested against it before the English parliament—were slighted, and turned out of the country under a guard. The leaders at Edinburgh, notwithstanding their condemnation of the late ‘Engagement,’ upheld monarchy in principle; and therefore, while England was declaring itself a commonwealth or republic, Scotland proclaimed the late king’s son—a youth of nineteen, living in exile—as Charles II., King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland. At the same time, the Scots were determined not to receive the young king as their sovereign, or to befriend him in any way, until he should have accepted that Solemn League and Covenant, which proclaimed a crusade against all doctrine inconsistent with pure Presbyterianism.

With this difference as to a principle, Scotland was, in 1649 and the early part of 1650, as purely a republic as England. The state authority rested, as it had practically done for years past, in a standing Committee of Estates, in which the Marquis of Argyle, the Chancellor Earl of Loudon, and Sir Archibald Johnston of Warriston, were the most prominent figures. Religion, however, being the chief matter of concernment in those days, it naturally came about that a similar standing committee, called the Commission of the Kirk, had a great influence in public affairs. Under the excitement produced by the struggle against the late king, these ruling parties, as well as the people at large, had contracted an exclusive and overweening attachment to Presbyterianism and its objects, as expressed in the Solemn League, insomuch that no person could be allowed to remain at peace without signing that document; while to give it adherence and support was to manifest the highest of virtues, or rather, to do that which was held as a summary of all virtue. The racking concentration of attention on one subject during a long course of years, to the neglect of all other healthy objects—the constant temptation to dissimulation under a constraint which left no choice between avowed profession and moral and legal outlawry—the effects of an ultra-austere code of morals, which allowed no excuse for natural impulses—the confounding effect of a system which subordinated all the really weighty matters of the law to the mechanical fact of a signature—produced results on the general surface of society of a kind by no means pleasant to contemplate. There was throughout a sad want of the milder graces of Christianity. The miraculous workings of divine vengeance against the opponents of the children of Israel, and against apostates and idolaters among themselves, were dwelt on in every pulpit and in numberless publications, with constant application to those who went against the Covenanted work. The breathings of divine love in the sermon on the mount, and in the whole life of Jesus, were little, if ever, heard of.

One thing must clearly be admitted in regard to the conduct of the Scots following upon the death of Charles I., that it was marked by a consistency speaking much more of sincerity than of wisdom. Though conscious that they could not command a sixth part of the force which England could muster—though the Engagement had shewn what it was to meet the veterans of Edgehill and Naseby in the field—they did not scruple to do that which was sure to incur a war with the young republic, because so they wrought out the plan of the Covenant, to which they had sworn, and so did they believe they would advance the glory of God.