Part 11

Mr Spence as yet was only an ecclesiastical rebel, and instead of going over to the extreme Covenanters, made his way to Holland, where he joined the colony of Scotch refugees. Ultimately he attached himself to the Earl of Argyle as a kind of secretary, and conducted part of the correspondence between the Earl and the English plotters. He was in London in 1683, apparently on the Earl's business, when he was arrested and imprisoned for some months, but as he could not be efficiently examined in England, where torture was not legal, he was finally sent down to Scotland along with Carstares and other suspects in His Majesty's "Kitchin Yaucht," which did not go at a royal pace, for the journey to Leith took thirteen days. They arrived late at night on November 14th, having left London on the 1st, and were taken straight to the Tolbooth.[15] A week after, orders came from London that Mr Spence should be put to the torture, but for some reason or other he was left alone till the April of the following year, being evidently in irons all the time, his close connection with Argyle rendering his imprisonment {202} extra rigorous.[16] He was taken out of irons on the 25th of that month, but it was not till the 24th of July that he was ordered to appear before the Council and required to take an oath to answer all the questions put to him. He refused and protested, and was tortured in the boot, but, spite of the awful agony, remained "obstinate and disingenuous," whereupon the Privy Council "resolved to use all methods necessary to bring the said Mr William Spence to a true and ingenuous confession, and for expiscating the truth in so important a matter, do recommend to General Dalziel forthwith to call for the said Mr William Spence from the Magistrates of Edinburgh, and to cause such of His Majesty's forces, officers, and soldiers, as shall be found most trusty, to watch the said Mr William Spence by turns, and not to suffer him to sleep by night or by day, and for that end to use all effectual means for keeping him awake."[17] The "effectual means" were "pricking,"[18] and the intention was to induce raving, so that in his {203} delirium the brave prisoner might perhaps reveal his secrets. The torture was continued for eight or nine nights, but Mr Spence did not rave, and tired his tormentors out. It was next resolved to try the "thumbkins" on him, and, indeed, Spence seems to have been one of the first regular prisoners to suffer this new Muscovy torture,[19] for the Act of Council authorising the use of "the new invention and engine called the thumbkins" was passed only a fortnight before; but the sanguine expectations of the Lords were not fulfilled in the present case, for though he sank under the agonising torment, he would not yield. Ten days later he was again threatened with the boot, and having meanwhile understood from his friends that the Government practically knew already all he could tell them, he promised to make a free and ingenuous confession on certain conditions--namely, that no new questions should be put to him, that he should not be obliged to be a witness against any person, and that he himself should be pardoned. Unfortunately, by a sheer accident in disclosing the meaning of some of the ciphers used in Argyle's correspondence, he put the Council {204} on the track of the cipher[20] which expressed the name of his fellow-prisoner, the famous Carstares, who, however, does not in any way blame Mr Spence for what happened. He was sent back to prison, strict orders being given that he was not to be permitted to see Carstares, and when the Council adjourned for the holidays on September 13th, he was removed to Dumbarton Castle, and granted liberty within the walls. Whether he escaped, or was allowed to go out of the country, we cannot tell, but it is clear at any rate that he rejoined his old master in Holland, and the next we hear of him is that he was one of those who accompanied Argyle when he made his disastrous descent on Scotland in the spring of 1685. When the little fleet arrived off Kirkwall Mr Spence must needs go ashore to visit his uncle who lived there, along with one of the Earl's scouts. "Both," says Wodrow,[21] "were discovered and catched by the old bishop there. The Earl was peremptorily resolved to recover the two gentlemen, and ordered Sir Patrick Hume with a party of Fusileers to attack the town"; but the captains were obdurate {205} and nervous, and gave the Earl time only to seize seven islanders and a vessel "lying ther with meall and money," when the ships sailed away, leaving the unfortunate secretary to his fate.[22] He was sent down to Edinburgh,[23] indicted for treason, and remitted in due form to the Assizes, tried, and found guilty, and we seem at last to be near his end when we read that the Lords ordained Mr William Spence to be taken to the Cross of Edinburgh on Wednesday next, July 22nd, and there to be hanged. Before that day arrived, however, he got a reprieve, and on August 17th he was allowed to remove to a chamber in Edinburgh because of sickness--quite unaccountable leniency at a time when the authorities did not scruple to hang dying men in their night-shirts. The Magistrates were made responsible for his safe keeping, and he undertook to re-enter the prison on the first of September. His reprieve was now continued till {206} November 1st, and the last we hear of him was that in a letter from the King, dated October 14th, orders were given that he was to be kept a close prisoner. His master had been executed on June 30th, and had testified before his death that Mr William Spence had been to him a faithful friend and servant. It is impossible to say what became of him between this time and the Revolution, and unless he succeeded in escaping, it is highly probable that he remained in prison till the general clearance made by the alarmed authorities on the eve of that event. All we know for certain is that the General Assembly of 1690, amongst other items of business, declared his deposition null and void, and restored him to his old parish, the minister, Alexander Meldrum, having been deposed shortly before for not reading the Proclamation of the Estates, and not praying for their Majesties William and Mary. He remained in it only a few months, and in the autumn of 1691 he was translated to Fossoway, where he ended his days in peace in 1715,[24] at the age of 80, a clear proof {207} that he was a man of iron constitution as well as of iron will and iron convictions.

We have to go forward something like a hundred years before the parish or its fair stream comes again into notice, though probably in the interval occurred the summary act of justice commemorated by the Glendevon "Gallows Knowe," on which some of the last Highland reivers were hung, and also the tragic event at "Paton's Fauld," a spot a short distance from the old drove road opposite the "Court Knowe," where two local gipsy families effectively settled their quarrel by practically annihilating each other.[25] It was in August, 1787, that Burns first made acquaintance with the Devon, which he has celebrated in three of his poems, though it is evident that both on his flying visit to Harvieston and during the longer stay he made in October of the same year he was more pleased with the human flowers that bloomed on its banks than with the awesome grandeur of the Rumbling Brig, and that Peggy Chalmers and Charlotte Hamilton were more intimately associated with his fond memories of the Devon valley than Caudron Linn and the Deil's Mill. Although the ladies at Harvieston were somewhat disappointed[26] that the more prominent local glories did not inspire the poet to an outburst, it is clear that the subtle softness of the Devon scenery made a deep impression on Burns, if the more aggressive beauty of its waterfalls and gorges left him cold. You feel this in all he has written about it, and it is significant that in one of his last songs, composed when he was down in body, mind, and estate, his thoughts went back to the "crystal Devon, winding Devon," whose music seems to have got into his verse, and to the happy days he had spent on its "romantic banks" and amidst its "wild sequestered shades." It may be noted here that the "Holy Fair" was continued in Glendevon long after Burns' famous attack, and that down to 1835 the minister of the parish received an annual grant of five, and sometimes ten shillings, for grass destroyed at the Sacrament; while a handy parishioner also drew five shillings per annum for putting up the Communion tent on the glebe, and a little extra now and then for making a road to it.[27] It is impossible to say if Burns when at Harvieston was ever actually in Glendevon, but about thirty years later the home of the Taits, which the poet found so pleasant, is brought into close connection with the parish owing to an incident which had its own share in giving to the Church of England one of its wisest, if not one of its greatest, primates. It was in Glendevon House that young Archibald Campbell Tait, according to his own statement, which was found in his desk after his death, written on a sheet of foolscap, had an experience which he never forgot. His words are--"I had ridden over with my brother Crawfurd from Harvieston to Glendevon to visit old Miss Rutherford, and stayed the night in her house. I distinctly remember in the middle of the night awaking with a deep impression on my mind of the reality and nearness of the world unseen, _such as through God's mercy has never left me_."[28] And with this fragment of spiritual history our local record comes to a close. If the parish of Glendevon, nestling, like Burns' Peggy, "where braving angry winter's storm the lofty Ochils rise," and its clear winding river, occupy but a lowly place in Scottish story, they have something better even than archaeological treasures and stirring memories--the abiding presence of that spirit of beauty, which is above all change, and which ever haunts

"The green valleys Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows."

[1] Much of the legendary history of the Devon is given in the extraordinary poem "Glenochel," by Mr James Kennedy.

[2] See _Registrum Monasterii S. Marie De Cambuskenneth_, A.D. 1147-1535. Edinburgi: 1872; p. 122.

[3] _History of the Reformation_, Vol. I., p. 233.

[4] The parish was served by readers from 1568 to 1586, when the reader Symon Pawtoun was presented to the living, and, curiously enough, his successor, A. Marschell, after being minister for a year, was forced by the Presbytery to accept the lower position.

[5] See _The Darker Superstitions of Scotland_. By John Graham Dalyell. Glasgow: 1835; p. 579.

[6] Mr Wood Martin in his learned work, _Pagan Ireland_ (London: 1895); describes similar usages still prevailing in Ireland.

[7] _Dalyell_, p. 671.

[8] _History of the Rebellions in Scotland_. By Robert Chambers. Vol. II., p. 87.

[9] _Statistical Account of 1794_, p. 234.

[10] _Memoirs of the Marquis of Montrose_. By M. Napier. Vol. II., p. 537.

[11] He was schoolmaster at Abernethy, and subsequently married the daughter of the parish minister. She died in 1708 at the age of 80.

[12] See _Register of the Diocesan Synod of Dunblane_. Edited by John Wilson, D.D. Edinburgh: 1877; page 91.

Before the passing of the Act of 1810 for augmenting parochial stipends in Scotland, the stipend was £21 17s 11d, the smallest in Scotland. 50 Geo. III., cap. 84.

[13] _Diocesan Register_, p. 251.

[14] _Diocesan Register_, p. 150.

[15] _Historical Selections_. _From the MSS. of Sir John Lauder of Fountainhall_. Vol. I., p. 138.

[16] Wodrow's _History of The Sufferings of The Church of Scotland_. II., p. 386.

[17] Wodrow II., p. 386.

[18] Graham Dunlop MSS., quoted in Story's _Carstares_, p. 80.

[19] See Fountainhall, p. 138.

[20] Story's _Carstares_, p. 82.

[21] History, II., p. 531.

[22] Fountainhall, p. 164.

[23] That his spirit was in no way cowed is obvious from the report of what he said and did when he was brought before the Privy Council and informed that "Argile was tane," and urged to tell everything. "He laugh't at them, and with a very obstinate and unbelieving carriage said--'If ye have the principall, what neids ye ask these questions at me.'"--Fountainhall, p. 187.

[24] _Fasti Ecclesia Scoticanae_. By Hew Scott, D.D. Vol. II., pp. 766-768.

[25] The ecclesiastical quarrel which began in 1765 when Mr Patrick Crichton was presented to the living, went on for several years, and only ended when the presentee, seeing that a peaceable settlement was impossible, retired.

[26] Chambers' _Life of Burns_, II., 144.

[27] Glendevon Session Records.

[28] _Life of Archibald Campbell Tait_. By R. T. Davidson, D.D., and W. Bentham, D.D. 2 Vols. London: 1891.

BY THE WELL OF ST. FILLAN

By Rev. THOMAS ARMSTRONG, Dundurn

"Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring." --_Lady of the Lake_.

Any one who has visited the scene hallowed in tradition as the sojourn of St. Fillan, can understand how the genius of Scott should have traced to Fillan's spring that draught of inspiration which conceived such a splendid poem as the "Lady of the Lake"; for it is here that the scenery of Upper Strathearn reaches its climax of beauty and grandeur.

Take St. Fillan's Hill as the point of vantage, and the view is most entrancing. Looking towards Comrie and Crieff, we have at our feet the richest and most beautifully wooded part of Strathearn--the valley interspersed in the most picturesque fashion, with knolls richly clad with larch, oak, or hazel; while here and there the gleam of the River Earn betrays her course, where she has emerged from sombre wood, or deep and rocky gorge. In spring-time the eye is delighted and refreshed with the varieties of green--from the deep and sombre shade of the Scotch pine and the almost yellow and brown of the young oak to the exquisite freshness and tender beauty of the larch. In autumn it is one blaze of colour. At our feet an avenue of beeches glowing red; everywhere masses of oak of russet brown--the rich and varied tints of the bracken contributing their share to the similitude of a glorious sunset; and the whole picture is rendered complete to the eye by being set in that massive rocky framework, known as the Aberuchill range, whose stern and rugged sides add to the feeling of the picturesque and beautiful the sense of the sublime.

Looking westward, we have within our immediate view a contrast in the form of a fine piece of pastoral scenery--green fields with cattle or sheep grazing, ploughed land and cornfield, farm-steading, and all that suggests the peaceful but laborious life of the hardy sons of toil.

Almost at our feet, in striking solitude, we discern the chapel and burying-ground of Dundurn. The peacefulness of the place, and the solemn grandeur of the mountains which soar above, and seem as if placed there to safeguard the seclusion, are all in harmony.

From the point of view already taken, that noble Ben, called Biron, forces itself upon our admiration--a mountain with what we might call character--not of any common order--not beaten into any shape by the ruthless elements, but with many determined points, which have survived the war with winds and frosts and rains--an old veteran, who, in spite of the scars where the shadows rest, has a look of triumph about him, especially when his peaks at evening catch the setting rays of the sun, or peer through a surrounding mist.

Although we are not at any great altitude on the top of St. Fillan's Hill, we are yet high enough to get a glimpse of that gem of Highland lochs--Loch Earn, set literally at the feet of the hills, its waters murmuring a never ceasing song, as if happy with their near presence, having wooed and kissed their steep and rugged sides into silver strands and gently curving bays from end to end; and, indeed, the very woods, as if drawn by this music and this wooing, have come to the very water's edge to bathe and to drink, and to watch their graceful forms mirrored in the bosom of the loch.

I need no apology for thus dwelling upon the romantic scenery of the place, for if, in these matter-of-fact times, the fame and reputed virtue of the Well of St. Fillans have departed, and the days of pilgrimage to its source are over, still the pure air, and perfect peace, and wild and romantic surroundings remain, to minister their undoubted healing powers to wearied minds and jaded bodies.

In writing about the Well of St. Fillans and other places of antiquarian interest in this neighbourhood, it almost goes without saying that much must be taken on trust. People are prone to believe that the dirty pool of stagnant water which still remains in the driest summer on the top of St. Fillan's Hill is the famous spring to which pilgrims at one time resorted. Any one who examines it will not fail to observe that it has all the appearance of an artificially built well, and must have been kept in order and preservation for a purpose. Tradition confirms the belief that this was at one time the well, but not always. The Rev. Mr M'Diarmid, minister of the parish of Comrie about the beginning of this century, gives us the following account of it:--

"This spring, tradition reports, reared its head on the top of Dun Fholain (Fillan's Hill) for a long time, doing much good, but in disgust (probably at the Reformation) it removed suddenly to the foot of a rock, a quarter of a mile to the southward, where it still remains, humbled, but not forsaken. It is still visited by valetudinary people, especially on the 1st of May and the 1st of August. No fewer than seventy persons visited it in May and August, 1791. The invalids, whether men, women, or children, walk or are carried round the well three times in a direction Deishal--that is from east to west, according to the course of the sun. They also drink of the water and bathe in it. These operations are accounted a certain remedy for various diseases. They are particularly efficacious for curing barrenness, on which account it is frequently visited by those who are very desirous of offspring. All the invalids throw a white stone on the Saint's cairn, and leave behind them as tokens of their gratitude and confidence some rags of linen or woollen cloth. The rock on the summit of the hill formed of itself a chair for the Saint, which still remains. Those who complain of rheumatism in the back must ascend the hill, sit in this chair, then lie down on their back, and be pulled down by the legs to the bottom of the hill. This operation is still performed, and reckoned very efficacious. At the foot of the hill there is a basin made by the Saint on the top of a large stone, which seldom wants water even in the greatest drought, and all who are distressed with sore eyes must wash them three times with this water."

Of such holy wells, it may be interesting to learn that there were, previous to the Reformation, a great number throughout Scotland.[1] They were usually called after saints, because of the cells of saints being fixed near a spring. Hence these wells are usually in the vicinity of old ecclesiastical sites, and in many cases where the wells alone remain, they mark the place of those sites.

At these wells all diseases were supposed to be within the reach of cure. A student of the development theory might almost find traces of the growth of the specialist in them, for some of them acquired a fame for the cure of special diseases. The Well of St. Fillan, at Strathfillan, _e.g._, was famous for the cure of insanity; the Well of St. Fillan, about which I write, as has already been noticed, was much resorted to for the cure of barrenness; and if we transfer the virtue of the waters to the credit of the Saint under whose auspices a cure was wrought, we might say of St. Servan that he was considered a great oculist; of St. Anthony, that he was an eminent specialist in the treatment of children's diseases; for to the Well of St. Servan the blind were led, to the Well of St. Anthony, sickly and "backgane bairns." In accounting for the popularity of these wells, the philosopher will reflect that there is a kernel of truth in most widespread error. The truth in the well is the truth that underlay the hydropathic treatment involved, also the treatment of fresh air and exercise, and the extra exertion, the stimulus of change, and the excitement associated with such pilgrimages, not to speak of the power of faith, based though it was on error. From this point of view we may in some respects regard the modern hydropathic establishment as in the line of development with the holy well of old.

It is a testimony to the universality and the popularity of the holy wells in this country, and to the persistency of the superstition, after it had been condemned by the Reformation, that a public statute had to be enacted in 1579 prohibiting these pilgrimages, and that this having been ignored or defied, they had again to be denounced in the strongest terms in 1679. "It seems not to be enough," says this edict, "that whole congregations were interdicted from the pulpit preceding the wonted period of resort, or that individuals humbled on their knees in public acknowledgment of their offence were rebuked or fined for disobedience. Now it was declared for the purpose of restraining the superstitious resort in pilgrimage to chappellis and wellis, which is so frequent and common in this kingdom, to the great offence of God, the scandall of the Kirk, and disgrace of His Majestie's government, that commissioners diligently search in all such pairts and places where this idolatrous superstition is used, and to take and apprehend all such persons, of whatsoever rank and quality, whom they sall deprehend going pilgrimage to chappellis or wellis, or whom they sall know themselves to be guilty of that cryme, and to commit them to waird until such measures should be adopted for their trial and punishment." It is further of especial interest to note the local effort made to suppress these pilgrimages. In the records of the Synod of Perth there is a minute to the following effect:--

"It is found that there is frequent repairing on certain days superstitiously to some wells within this province, as to one called Dumlorn, in Comrie. In the meantime the Synod ordains and entreats all the gentlemen of these bounds where these wells, or any other of that kind are, that they would use all diligence against these abuses as they may according to the Acts of Parliament made thereanent."