Part 41

‘He being slain, his man Lancelot brings him with him to the Greenan, and there gets ane horse litter, and takes him to Maybole, where there was great dule made for him.’--_Hist. Ken._

Sir Thomas Hamilton proceeds to narrate that, while the actual murderers were first outlawed and afterwards forefaulted, Auchindrain fell under strong suspicion of having been the deviser of the deed. He, ‘being summoned to underlie the law, did boldly compear, and, seeing that the pursuers, for want of sufficient evidence, were not then to adventure his trial, fearing that he might be cleansed and so perpetually freed of that crime ... he seemed grieved thereat, as bragging exceedingly of his innocency, whereof he had given proof, by offering himself to trial of law--[he now proposed] if there were any man of Colzean’s kindred or friendship, who wald advow him any ways participant of the device or execution of that murder, he wald readily offer himself in that quarrel to the trial of combat to the death.... So, wanting ane party, [he] was dismissed, more free in the persuasion of most part of such as were present, than in his own conscience.’

[Sidenote: 1602.]

The reader must be referred onward to July 1611 for the remainder of the history of this extraordinary criminal. Here, however, may be introduced the remarkable fact, that the Earl of Cassillis made an attempt to obtain a private revenge on Auchindrain for the murder of his uncle Colzean. The earl had long been on bad terms with his brother Hugh, whom we have seen as the guilty associate of Auchindrain. Now, he made up all past quarrels with Hugh, and granted him a bond, September 4, 1602, stating: ‘Howsoon our brother, Hugh Kennedy of Brownston, with his complices, _takes the Laird of Auchindrain’s life_, we sall mak guid and thankful payment to him and them of the sum of twelve hundred merks yearly, together with corn to six horses, [until] we receive them in household with ourself, beginning the first payment immediately after their committing of the said deed. Attour [moreover], howsoon we receive them in household, we shall pay to the twa serving gentlemen the fees, yearly, as our awn household servants. And hereto we oblige us, _upon our honour_.’[283]

* * * * *

[Sidenote: OCT. 8.]

[Sidenote: 1602.]

A proclamation issued by the king at Dumfries, gives some idea of the social state of the middle marches, and of the arrangements required for the execution of justice amongst the rude and turbulent people of that district, while as yet the government had no standing force at its command. ‘Forsamickle,’ it proceeds, ‘as the king’s Majesty has causit proclaim and appoint justice-courts to be halden within the burghs of Peblis and Jedburgh upon the fifteen and twenty-sex day of October instant, for punishing and trying be order of justice the monyfauld enormities and insolencies whilk has been sae frequent and common thir years bygane within the middle marches, Like as his Majesty, accompaniet with a nowmer of his council, intends to be present at the said courts, and to hald hand to the due execution of justice, Wherefore necessity it is that his Majesty be weel and substantially accompaniet with a force of his guid subjects, Therefore ordains letters to be direct, charging all and sundry his Majesty’s lieges and subjects betwixt saxty and saxteen years, and others fencible persons, as well dwelling to burgh as to land, regality and royalty, within the bounds of the sheriffdoms of Peblis, Selkirk, and Roxburgh, that they ilk ane of them weel bodin in feir of weir in their substantious and weirlike manner address themselves to meet his Majesty at the days and places following; That is to say, the saids inhabitants within the sheriffdoms of Selkirk and Peblis to meet his Majesty at Peblis the said fifteen day of October instant, and the saids inhabitants within the sheriffdom of Roxburgh to meet his Majesty at Jedburgh upon the twenty-five day of the same month, provided to remain and attend upon his Majesty the space of fifteen days after their coming to the said burghs under the pain of tinsel of life, lands, and guids.’--_P. C. R._

From some expressions in this proclamation, it seems likely to have been written by the king himself.

He did make a progress by Peebles and Jedburgh, and executed justice upon a number of luckless Elliots and Armstrongs.

* * * * *

A quarrel at this time took place between two chiefs of the North Highlands, Kenneth Mackenzie of Kintail and Macdonald of Glengarry. It were not easy to arrive at a just understanding of the case, or of the degrees of blame to which the several parties were liable; but it is not necessary. Enough that there was blood between these fierce paladins of the north, and that, however the right stood, the affair boded ill for Glengarry, seeing that he had to contend with an enemy crafty and able far beyond his class, and one who, by these means, was generally able to keep on good terms with the heads of administration in Edinburgh.

[Sidenote: 1602.]

According to an unprinted memoir of the Clan Mackenzie--Glengarry and his son Angus, who had recently attained perfect age, took advantage of the temporary absence of Kintail in France to make a charge against the latter before the Privy Council; and Mackenzie was summoned at the pier of Leith to ‘compear’ before a certain day, under pain of forfeiture. This ‘moved Mr John Mackenzie of Tollie, parson of Dingwall, to travel to France, and bring his chief against the day of compearance. He came to Edinburgh only the night before, and having advised with his friends, he kept the diet unexpectedly before the Council. In the meantime, Alister M‘Gorrie and Ronald M‘Rorie [Glengarry men] made another onset to the Brae of Kissearn, and killed a gentleman of the family of Davachmaluach, called Donald M’Kinnich Vich Allister, sleeping in his bed; whose bloody shirt Mr John Mackenzie presented that day at Edinburgh. Glengarry could prove nothing against Mackenzie done in his time; but Mr John proved Glengarry to have been the instruments of this murder. Likewise he proved him to be a worshipper of the _Coan_, which image was afterwards brought to Edinburgh, and burnt at the Cross. Also he gave in against him that he was an extortioner and oppressor, sorning on his own commons and the commons of others, and that he still lived in adultery. Which moved Glengarry to steal from the place of justice, and to take to the hills, whereupon he was proclaimed rebel, and Mackenzie got the laws against him.’

Glengarry’s son having invaded Kintail, and done some mischief there, Mackenzie raised a force of seven hundred men, and retaliated by spoiling the district of Morar. Then the Macdonalds came in thirty-seven boats to Loch Broom, and counter-retaliated. Here Alister M‘Gorrie, one of their party, was killed, and his party beat back to sea. Indeed, the whole expedition failed. Soon after, however, while Mackenzie was absent in Mull, the Macdonalds came once more to his country, at Loch Carron, and committed great devastations. Their leader, Glengarry’s son, not only carried off all the cows he could find, but slew all the people that fell in his way, even the women and children. He was overtaken, however, by a fearful retribution.

[Sidenote: 1602.]

‘Advertisement was sent to Kintail and Lochalsh, who gathered as fast as they could; but he [Glengarry’s son, Angus] had his boats laden before they came. After they gave him a flight of arrows, he took the sea, and they wanting boats, could not follow; but part of them went afoot to the Kyle; others made straight to Ellandonan, where they got a ten-oared boat and a four-oared boat. Mackenzie’s lady carried to them arrows and ammunition with her own hand. They rowed to the Kyle boldly, having no chieftain, but ilk ane striving who would act more for his mistress’s credit, and for the country’s defence. They came to the Kyle [a narrow strait] after the night had fallen. When they spied the first of Glengarry’s boats, they resolved to let her pass without challenge. He followed next himself in his long-boat of thirty-two oars, loaded with men and spoil, which, when they perceived, they rowed calmly to meet him; and he challenging them, and asking who they were, they answered: “We are all Clan Vich Allister,” giving them balls and arrows alike; at which they took alarm. The clouds overshadowing the moon, made a dark shadow on the sea; so they thought it had been shore, and got all to the fore-end of the boat, which made the boat to sink. When the Mackenzies saw their boat sink, they sent their little boat ashore, lest any should make their escape to land, and _the Kintail men had the killing of them like selchies_ [seals]. At last they killed Glengarry’s son and all those that were in that great boat with him. The rest, when they heard the alarm, retired to Strathardle, and left their boats; from whence they went afoot, and took boats from the Isles to Morer. When they knew their chieftain was dead, with the best of his company, they gathered all together to ane isle, where the Lord Kintail came timeously the next morning in the sight of the Isles....

‘When Mackenzie came to the Kyle, he spied a number of dead corpses which the rage of the sea had casten ashore, which made him to think, seeing his enemy together a little while before, that it was his own men that were killed there. He had in his company two of Glengarry’s natives, who had quat Glengarry and submitted to him, and who were acquaint with both the country people [both clans or sets of people in the district] ... whom he desired to go ashore and see who they were that were dead. No sooner were they ashore but he espied them strike their hands upon their breasts, making great lamentation. “Praised be God!” said Kintail, “it is not for my countrymen you make such great lamentation. I am confident that God hath been favourable to my countrymen in giving them a pleasant victory.” When Robert [one of the Glengarry men] returned to the boat, Kintail asked: “What news?” “My lord,” saith he, “good news for your lordship; there is many a brave fellow of your enemies dead in yonder place; not so much as one of your countrymen amongst them.” Immediately they sailed away to Ellandonan, where Kintail’s men were no sooner landed but he met his countrymen returning from the burial of young Glengarry, whom they buried _in the very door of the Kirk of Kintail, as testimony that they might trample over his body whenever they went to church_.’[284]

Next year, Glengarry and some of his friends were indicted for slaughter in the Mackenzie country; and not long after, his lands of Lochalsh and castle of Strome had passed to the possession of the chief of Kintail.

[Sidenote: 1602.]

In a _Catalogue of the Scots Nobility and Officers of the Estate_, by John Colville, written between 1600 and 1603, several of the Highland or rather Hebridean chiefs are described, as ‘The Lord of the Isles, callit Makrenald; ane Irish [Celtic] and barbar--The Lord of Kintyre, callit Makoneill; Irish and barbar--The Lord of the Lewis, callit Makgloyid; Irish and barbar--The Lord of Makklen, callit Makklen; Irish, a child of good expectation.’

The chief personage of the preceding notice is thus introduced: ‘The Lord of Makkenzie, callit Makkenzie; Irish; a protestant _and verey politique_.’

* * * * *

[Sidenote: NOV. 1.]

At Perth--‘Henry Balnaves and William Jack made their repentance in their awn seats on Sabbath afternoon, for making libel against Mr William Couper, minister, and Henry Elder, clerk--

As King David was ane sair sanct to the crown, So is Mr William Couper and the clerk to this poor town.

Ane act of council against them, that nane of them should bear office or get honourable place in the town thereafter.’--_Chron. Perth._

* * * * *

[Sidenote: DEC. 1.]

It had become a practice for persons who had revengeful feelings towards their neighbours to obtain petards from the continent, and employ them for the destruction of those against whom they had an ill-will. The king now issued a proclamation against ‘sic detestable and unworthy crimes, without example in any other kingdom,’ whereby ‘na man of whatsomever rank and calling can assure his awn safety and preservation within his awn house and iron yetts.’ He ordered all who have any ‘pittartis’ to surrender them at the next burgh immediately, and forbade any more being brought home by sea, or made or mended within the country.--_P. C. R._

It seems not unworthy of observation, that by his familiarity with this explosive practice in his own country, as well as by the recollection of his father’s fate at the Kirk of Field, James might be in some measure prepared to smell out the gunpowder treason, as he did a few years later.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: 1603.

JAN. 3.]

‘John Haitly of Mellerstanes [was] slain at the Salt Tron [in Edinburgh] by William Home, his guid-father.’--_Bir._

We have no account of what led to this dreadful kind of homicide; but, five years after (April 28, 1608), we find that the king had exerted himself to reconcile the friends of the parties, and they were ordered by the Privy Council to come forward on a particular day, and _chop hands_ on the subject.--_P. C. R._

* * * * *

[Sidenote: JAN. 30.]

[Sidenote: 1603.]

‘Francis Mowbray brak ward out of the [Edinburgh] Castle, and he fell owir the wall, and brak his craig [neck]. Thereafter, he was trailit to the gallows, and hangit; and thereafter he was quarterit, and his head and four quarters put on the four ports.’

In this brief manner Birrel narrates the sad end of a sprightly and gallant, though intemperate spirit. Francis Mowbray was a son of Sir John Mowbray of Barnbougle, an ancient house long since gone down to nothing. Francis himself was the friend and companion of the Earl of Buccleuch, the hero of the attack on Carlisle Castle in 1596. He had taken part in that exploit, but soon after got into trouble, in consequence of a quarrel with one William Schaw, whom he struck through with a rapier, and killed. Worse than this, he was a Catholic, and engaged himself actively in some of those underhand political practices which at length came to a head in the Gunpowder Treason. He spent some time in a most suspicious place--the Infant’s Court at Brussels.

An Italian fencer named Daniel, residing in London, denounced Mowbray to Elizabeth’s government as having undertaken to kill the king of Scots. Mowbray denied the accusation, and offered the combat. The two being sent down to Edinburgh, it was arranged that they should fight hand to hand in the great close of Holyroodhouse; but before the appointed day arrived, notice came from England that some witnesses had come forward who could prove the treason. On the 29th of January, Mowbray was confronted with the two witnesses, who, however, were considered as ‘of light account,’ being men of bankrupt fortunes, who had from that cause left their country. Mowbray still stood stoutly to his denial, uttering this adjuration before the king: ‘If ever I thought evil, or intended evil against my prince, God, that marketh the secrets of all hearts, make me fall at my enemies’ feet--make me a spectacle to all Edinburgh, and cast my soul in hell for ever!’ The two were placed in several apartments in Edinburgh Castle, the Italian occupying a room immediately above Mowbray.

[Sidenote: 1603.]

At eight o’clock in the evening of the 30th of January, being Sunday, Francis Mowbray was found dying at the foot of the Castle rock. It was stated that he had sewed his blankets together, and let himself down over the wall; but the line being too short, he fell, and mortally injured himself. The unfortunate man died in the course of the night. An attempt was made by some friends to raise a report that he had been thrown over the window; but this was believed by few, and really is not very credible. The authorities shewed no hesitation about the matter; but, concluding on the guilt of the deceased, had his body dragged backwards through the streets to the bar of the Court of Justiciary, where sentence was duly passed against him. The corpse was then dealt with as Birrel relates. The superstitious remarked the verification of the fearful words of the deceased--that he might fall at his enemies’ feet, and become a spectacle to all Edinburgh.--_Pit. Cal. Spot. Notes to Russell’s edition of Spottiswoode_, 1851.

* * * * *

This year was published in Edinburgh a comedy, entitled _Philotus_, which we must consider as a curiosity in its way, since it is the first known effort of the Scottish muse in that department of literature.[285] It is founded on a story which we find under the name of _Philotus and Emilia_ in a volume by Barnaby Riche, originally published in 1581,[286] being, in plain terms, a somewhat licentious Italian novel. The Scotch comedy is in rhymed verse, and entirely in the characteristic Scotch manner of that age; but not a shadow of plausible conjecture has yet been indulged in regarding the possible author.[287]

The main series of incidents involves the fate of a young woman, Emilia, who is solicited to become the second wife of Philotus, an old and rich man. A _Macrell_, or go-between, is employed to bring her to his wishes, and addresses her in a long speech, which incidentally illustrates the life of a fine lady of that age:

[Sidenote: 1603.]

‘Ye neither mell with lad nor loon, But with the best in all this toun; His wife may ay sit foremost doun, At either buird or bink, Gang foremost in at door or yett, And ay the first guid-day wald get, With all men honourit and weel-tret, As ony heart wald think.

See what a woman’s mind may meese,[288] And hear what honour, wealth, and ease, Ye may get with him, an ye please To do as I devise:

Your fire sall first be burning clear, Your maidens then sall have your geir[289] Put in guid order and effeir,[290] Ilk morning or[291] you rise.

And say: ‘Lo, mistress, here your muils;[292] Put on your wyliecoat or it cuils; Lo, here ane of your velvet stuils, Whereon ye sall sit doun: Then twasome come to kame your hair, Put on your head-geir soft and fair; Tak there your glass--see all be clair; And sae gaes on your goun.

Then tak, to stanch your morning drouth, Ane cup of Malvoisie, for your mouth; For fume cast succar in a fouth,[293] Together with a toast. Three garden gowps[294] tak of the air, And bid your page in haste prepare, For your disjune, some dainty fair, And care not for nae cost.

Ane pair of plovers piping het, Ane partrick and ane quailie get, Ane cup of sack, sweet and weel set, May for ane breakfast gain.[295] Your cater he may care for syne Some delicate, again’ you dine; Your cook to season all sae fine, Then does employ his pain.

To see your servants may you gang, And look your maidens all amang, And, gif there ony wark be wrang, Then bitterly them blame: Then may ye have baith quoifs and kells,[296] Hich candie ruffs, and barlet bells, All for your wearing and nought els, Made in your house at hame.

And now when all thir warks are done, For your refreshing after noon, Gar bring into your chamber soon, Some dainty dish of meat; Ane cup or twa with Muscadel, Some other licht thing therewithal-- For raisins or for capers call, Gif that ye please to eat.

Till supper time then may ye chuse, Into your garden to repose, Or merrily to tak ane gloze,[297] Or tak ane book and read on; Syne to your supper are ye brought, Till fare, full far that has been sought, And dainty dishes dearly bought, That ladies love to feed on.

The organs then, into your hall, With shalm and timbrel sound they sall, The viol and the lute withal, To gar your meat digest: The supper done, then up ye rise, To gang ane while, as is the guise[298]-- By ye have roamit ane alley thrice, It is a mile almaist.

Then ye may to your chalmer gang, Beguile the nicht, gif it be lang, With talk, and merry mows[299] amang, To elevate the spleen. For your collation tak ane taste, Some little licht thing till digest, At nicht use Rhen’sh wine ay almaist For it is cauld and clean.

And for your back I dare be bold, That ye sall wear even as ye wold, With double garnishings of gold, And crape above your hair. Your velvet hat, your hood of state, Your missle[300] when ye gang the gait, Frae sun and wind, baith air and late, To keep that face sae fair.

Of Paris wark, wrought by the lave,[301] Your fine half-cheinyies ye sall have; For to decore, ane carkat[302] crave, That comely collar-bane. Your great gold cheinyie for your neck, Be bowsome to the carle, and beck, For he has gold eneuch, what-reck? It will stand on nane.

[Sidenote: 1603.]

And for your gouns, ay the new guise Ye with your tailors may devise, To have them loose with plaits and plies, Or claspit close behind:

The stuff, my heart, ye need not hain, Pan velvet raised, figurit or plain, Silk, satin, damask, or grograin, The finest ye can find.

Your claiths on colours cuttit out, And all pasmented[303] round about, My blessing on that seemly snout, Sae weel, I trow, sall set them! Your shanks[304] of silk, your velvet shoon, Your broidered wyliecoat aboon, As ye devise, all sall be done, Uncraipit, when ye get them.

Your tablet, by your halse[305] that hings, Gold bracelets, and all other things, And all your fingers full of rings, With pearls and precious stanes, Ye sall have ay while ye cry ho, Rickles[306] of gold and jewels too, What reck to tak the bogle-go, My bonny bird, for anes.’

* * * * *

[Sidenote: FEB. 9.]

This is the date of an outbreak of private warfare which throws all contemporary events of the same kind into the shade.

[Sidenote: 1603.]