Part 5
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.’
[Sidenote: 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.
[Sidenote: 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.
[Sidenote: 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.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 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.
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[Sidenote: 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_.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JUNE 20.]
[Sidenote: 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.
[Sidenote: 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]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JULY.]
[Sidenote: 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.’
* * * * *
[Sidenote: SEP. 23.]
[Sidenote: 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._
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[Sidenote: 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.
[Sidenote: 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.
[Illustration: Bog an Gicht Castle.]
[Sidenote: 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.
[Sidenote: OCT. 8.]
[Sidenote: 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.’
[Sidenote: 1630.]