vill. There, too, the women of the vill--but they alone--might be

churched, and also be heard in confession; but they were to pay the offering for wax to the Mother Church of Rindalgros, and there, too, were to receive communion at Easter. The Cupbearer himself and all his successors were to be at liberty to communicate either in the chapel or in the Mother Church. Malcolm might also have a priest attached to his chapel, provided such priest acknowledged submission to the Church of Rindalgros. In return for these concessions and privileges, the Cupbearer not only confirmed the gifts of land made by his father to the chapel, but also added a grant of other four acres in pure and perpetual alms.[219]

Apart from such incidents as the Records of the Priory of May indicate, there seems to have been only one event of importance in connection with it for more than a century from the time when King David conveyed it to the Monks of Reading, on condition that they should maintain in it nine priests of their brethren, to offer up the Mass for the benefit of his soul and of the souls of his predecessors and successors, Kings of Scotland. It is briefly referred to by the chronicler Torfæus in his account of one of Swein Asleif's expeditions. Steering southwards, he says, Swein and his followers arrived at the Isle of May. In that island there was a monastery, the abbot of which was named Baldwin. Being detained there for seven days, they professed to be ambassadors from Earl Ronald to the King of Scotland. The monks, suspecting them to be robbers, sent to the mainland for help. On this, Swein plundered the monastery, and took much booty. As a strangely inconsistent sequel to this story, Torfæus adds that Swein then sailed up the Firth of Forth, and found King David in Edinburgh; that the King received Swein with much honour, and entreated him to remain; and that Swein told David all that had occurred between him and Earl Ronald, and how he had plundered the Isle of May. The same historian also states that on another occasion Swein anchored at the Isle of May, from which he dispatched messengers to the King at Edinburgh.[220]

Spottswood states, in his _List of Religious Houses in Scotland_, that the Priory of the May, originally put under the patronage of All Saints, was subsequently consecrated to the memory of St. Adrian. He does not, however, mention on what occasion. He adds that William Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrews, purchased it from the Abbot of Reading, and notwithstanding the complaints made thereupon by Edward Longshanks, King of England, bestowed it upon the canons regular of his cathedral. Fordun and Prynne both give details of the transaction; but from documents discovered at a later date and published in the _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_,[221] it appears that neither of them states the case quite fully nor quite correctly. It is to be gathered from the proceedings relative to the claim of the Abbot and Convent of Reading on the Priory, that it was Robert de Burghgate, Abbot of Reading, who sold the Scottish "cell" to William, Bishop of St. Andrews, and that he received from him 1100 merks on account of the price. It would seem, however, that he effected this transaction contrary to the wish of the majority of his monks; and, on this ground, his successor, Abbot William, attempted to overturn it. In the Parliament of John Baliol, held at Scone on the 10th of February, 1292, John Sutton and Hugh Stanford, appearing as his representatives, demanded either possession of the Priory of May or payment of the balance of the price agreed to be paid for it, together with the fruits and rents accruing from it during the preceding four years. Failing recognition of their claims, they were empowered to appeal to the judgment of the King of England--a significant instruction which shows that Edward intended to turn the dispute to account in the prosecution of his designs against the independence of Scotland.

When the English representatives presented their abbot's petition they were asked whether he was prepared to repay to the Bishop of St. Andrews the 1100 merks already received on account. They cautiously replied that they had not been sent to make any payment, and could not undertake to do so; and they requested that the case, which had been brought to a deadlock by reason of the Scottish counterclaim, might be adjourned to the next, or to some subsequent Parliament, so that they might have time to consult both the Abbot of Reading and the English King. To escape from the necessity of either recognizing or challenging the sovereign authority which Edward claimed, and by virtue of which it was intended to get the dispute settled in favour of the Monks of Reading, the Bishop of St. Andrews, on his side, appealed to the Roman See. The case being thus removed from the Scottish Court, Baliol had a plausible reason for refusing to proceed further in the matter. The English abbot's attorneys were not, however, satisfied with this move on the part of their opponents. Alleging a denial of justice in the Scottish Court, they appealed to King Edward as Lord Superior of the Kingdom of Scotland. He consequently issued a writ, dated at Dunton on the 2nd of September, 1293, by which he cited John Baliol to appear before him within a fortnight of the feast of St. Martin. Baliol disregarded not only this first summons, but also two others, which respectively called upon him to appear within the octave of the feast of the Holy Trinity, and within a month after Easter. A fourth writ was then forwarded to the Sheriff of Northumberland. It was to be served by him in person on the Scottish King, whom it commanded to appear before his suzerain within a month after Michaelmas, and to bring with him the record of the proceedings in the Scottish Court prior to the appeal to the Holy See. In the absence of further documents bearing on the case, it may be assumed that "the final overthrow of the paramount claims of England, which was one of the happy results of Bannockburn, of course precluded any further English interference with the agreement which had rescued the Priory of May from an alien mother".[222]

The first extant document subsequent to the severance of the connection between the Scottish cell and the English monastery is dated the 1st of July, 1318, and is a deed of gift by which William, Bishop of St. Andrews, makes over to the Canons of the Monastery of St. Andrews an annual pension of sixteen merks formerly due by the Priory of May to the Monastery of Reading.[223] In 1415 there is an obligation by Henry, Bishop of St. Andrews, for payment to the same canons of twenty pounds Scots out of the sequestrated revenues of the Priory of May. About the middle of the century the "Priory of Pittenweem or May" was annexed by Pope Paul II to the See of St. Andrews, as a mensal possession of the bishop's, during his lifetime. In 1472 this annexation was made perpetual by Pope Sixtus IV.[224]

In this deed of annexation, and in others anterior to it, from 1318 onwards, the alternative appellation "May or Pittenweem" occurs. According to the editor of the _Records_, the explanation seems to be "that the Monks of May had, from the first, erected an establishment of some sort on their manor of Pittenweem, on the mainland of Fife, which, after the priory was dissevered from the House of Reading and annexed to that of St. Andrews, became their chief seat, and that thereafter the monastery on the island was deserted in favour of Pittenweem, which was less exposed to the incursions of the English, nearer to the superior house at St. Andrews, and could be reached without the necessity of a precarious passage by sea".[225]

By a charter bearing the date of the 30th of January, 1549, John Roull, Prior of Pittenweem, feued the Isle of May to Patrick Learmonth of Dairsy, Provost of St. Andrews. The deed of conveyance describes the island as waste and spoiled by rabbits, which had once been an important source of revenue, but of which the warrens were now completely destroyed. As reasons justifying the alienation of the May, Roull referred to its remoteness and to the consequent difficulty of access to it, to its unprofitableness, and to its liability to invasion by those ancient enemies, the English, who on the outbreak of hostilities were wont to take possession of it, thus rendering it a useless adjunct to his monastery. Amongst the rights ceded to Learmonth was that of patronage of the church, which was to be maintained, and to which he was to appoint a chaplain, for the purpose of continuing divine service therein, out of reverence for the relics and sepulchres of the saints interred in the island, and for the reception of pilgrims and their offerings, according to the custom of old times, and even within memory of man.[226]

Numerous records testify to the reverence in which the island shrine of St. Adrian was held during the fifteenth and the sixteenth century. Thus, it is stated that when Mary of Gueldres was on her way to Scotland in June, 1449, to become the wife of James II, she anchored near the May, and performed her devotions in the chapel before proceeding on her voyage to Leith.[227] It may be seen from entries in the Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer for Scotland that King James IV was a very assiduous pilgrim to the island, and a liberal patron of the hermit who had established his cell there. They record a visit which he paid in 1503. It was not his first, as there is a brief notice of his having landed in 1490; but it is the earliest of which any details are supplied. He sailed from Leith, accompanied by a considerable retinue, amongst whom were the clerks of the Chapel Royal, who sang mass in the chapel on the island. After the celebration the Royal party took boat again, and, safely piloted in "the litill bark callit the _Columb_" by Robert Barton's mariners, who got fourteen shillings for their trouble, landed at Anstruther. On that occasion the hermit of May received nine shillings by the King's command. In the beginning of July, 1505, John Merchamestoun was commissioned to pass to Kinghorn, Dysart, and Kirkcaldy to seek mariners against the King's passing to May. Previous to the voyage, the King himself drew a hundred French crowns for his own purse. The men that rowed him to the ship received six shillings, and next day, those "that rowit the King fra his schippes to Maij, and to the schippes agane", got seven. Nine shillings were paid "to the botemen that brocht the Kingis stuf, and the maister cuke with the Kingis souper fra the schip to Maij, and fra Maij to the schip agane". The donation to the hermit amounted to five shillings and fourpence. Similar entries occur in 1506 and 1507; but those of the former of these years show additional sums for offerings of candles and of bread, and for a donation on behalf of the Queen. They also show that the royal ship was provided with nine cross-bows. In 1508 there is evidence of a shooting party on the May. On the last day of June in that year sixteen pence were paid "to ane row bote that hed the King about the Isle of Maij to schut at fowlis with the culveryn". There were other three boats "that hed in the Kingis folkis and chanounis, with pairt of lardis of the contree". It was in the _Lion_ that James came over from the mainland; and amongst the provisions with which she was supplied for the voyage mention is made of one puncheon of wine, three barrels of ale, and one hundred and four score "breid of wheat". It is not unworthy of notice that a charter, dated only a few days before the death of James IV at Flodden, makes special mention of the May.[228] It erects certain lands into a free barony in favour of Sir Andrew Wood of Largo on condition that he or his heirs should accompany the King and his Consort, or their successors, on their pilgrimages to the island.

III

An entry in the Register of the Privy Council for the year 1577 not only bears out de Beaugué's statement with regard to the presence of pirates about the May, but it also suggests the complicity of the people on the neighbouring coast. It sets forth that "the Council has thought convenient that the persons, buyers, and intromettors with the goods taken in piracy by a French ship of war lately frequenting about the May, shall be called before my Lord Admiral and his deputies, as well to make surety that the same shall be forthcoming to the just owners, friends, and confederates of this realm, as to underlie punishment for buying and resset of unlawful gudis upon the stream, according to the laws and justice".

A peculiar use to which the May was put in 1580 is recorded in the same Register. Certain persons "infectit with the pest" having arrived within the waters and river of Tay, on board a ship of which John Anderson was master, charge had been given them to withdraw themselves, together with their ship and goods, with all possible diligence, to the Isle of May, and to remain there, under pain of death, till they were cleansed and had obtained licence to depart. In spite of that, they had gone farther up the Tay, with the intention of landing and selling their goods. They were consequently ordered a second time, under the same penalty, to be rigidly executed, to repair to the Isle of May; and the lieges were commanded, by open proclamation, at all places needful, not to suffer any of them to come to land or harbour, under the same penalty of death. If any of the infected persons violated the order, the Provost and Magistrates within whose bounds the transgression had taken place were to cause them and those who harboured them to be apprehended and executed; the infected houses were to be closed, and the ship, boats, and goods to be burnt.

The first lay proprietor of the May, Patrick Learmonth, retained possession of the island for only two years. In 1551, it was conferred on Andrew Balfour of Monquhannie. Seven years later, it was again granted to John Forret of Fyngask, with the proviso that, in view of the exposed situation of the isle, he should not be bound to pay the feu duty at any time when there was war between Scotland and any foreign nation. A still later owner of the May was Allan Lamont, by whom it was sold to Alexander Cunningham, Laird of Barnes. Cunningham built on it "a convenient house, with accommodation for a family". It was he, too, who, at the request and for the benefit of the seafaring population of the towns situated on the northern coast of the firth, set up a lighthouse, the first on the Scottish seaboard, on the Isle of May. The Register of the Privy Council enables us to follow some of the negotiations entered upon with a view to its erection. In January, 1631, the Lords of the Privy Council, in consequence of Cunningham's application, ordered letters to be directed, charging the Provosts and Bailies of Edinburgh, Dundee, St. Andrews, Crail, Anstruther, Pittenweem, Dysart, Kirkcaldy, Kinghorn, and Burntisland to send commissioners to represent them before the Council, and to give their advice and opinion "anent ane propositioun made to the Kingis Majestie for erecting of lichts upon the Isle of May, as ane thing thought to be most necessarie and expedient for the saulfetie of shippes arryving within the Firth". The question of the costs which the upkeep of the light would entail appears to have presented considerable difficulty at first. In spite of petitions from skippers and others most directly interested in the scheme, "the Lords of the Secret Council having heard and considered the report made by the commissioners for the burghs touching the lights craved by Alexander Cunningham of Barnes to be erected on the Isle of May, and being well advised therewith, and with the reasons and grounds of the same", found "no reason for imposing any duty to be uplifted towards the maintenance of the said lights". The matter was not, however, allowed to drop; and on the 22nd of April, 1636, the King at length acceding to the request of the coast towns, authorized Cunningham to build a lighthouse and to keep it up for nineteen years. Funds for its maintenance were to be obtained directly from those most benefited by it, by the imposition of a duty of two shillings Scots--that is, two pence sterling--per ton, on all ships sailing between St. Abb's Head and Dunottar. Cunningham erected in the same year, "a tower forty feet high, vaulted to the top and covered with flagstones, whereon all the year over, there burned in the night-time a fire of coals for a light". Sibbald states that the coals employed were from Wemyss, and that these were preferred on account of their hardness and of the clearness of their light, that about three hundred and eighty tons were consumed annually, and that three men were employed in keeping the beacon, two of whom were always on watch during the night. In the edition of Sibbald's work published in 1803, it is mentioned that prior to 1790, but subsequently to the time when the dues had been fixed at three-halfpence per ton for Scottish ships, and threepence for foreign--including English--vessels, the revenue of the lighthouse was farmed at £280 per annum, that it then rose to £960, and that in 1800 it was further augmented to £1500--"a striking proof of the increase of trade in this country". To commemorate the erection of this earliest of the Northern Lights, and to indicate--not absolutely correctly, however--the date, a scholar of St. Andrews composed these two lines of Latin doggerel:

Flumina ne noceant neu flumina lumina Maia PrebVIt et MeDIIs InsVLa LVX et aqVIS.

There is a tradition that the architect who planned and built the tower perished, on his voyage to the mainland, in a storm which some old women, then supposed to be witches, were burnt for raising.

In the description of the May contributed to the _Statistical Account of Scotland_ published in 1792, the Rev. James Forrester reports a very melancholy accident which happened whilst he was employed in drawing up his notice, and which he thinks ought to be recorded as a warning for future times. "The keeper of the lighthouse, his wife, and five children were suffocated. One child, an infant, is still alive, who was found sucking at the breast of its dead mother. Two men, who were assistants to the keeper, were senseless, but got out alive. This truly mournful event was owing to the cinders having been allowed to accumulate for more than ten years. The cinders reached up to the window of the apartments where these unfortunate people slept. They were set on fire by live coals falling from the lighthouse, and the wind blowing the smoke into the windows, and the door below being shut, the consequences were inevitable. These persons were the only inhabitants, and all of them lodged in the lighthouse. The families who formerly resided there lodged in houses detached from it. The old plan is to be again adopted, and houses are preparing for lodging the keeper and a boat's crew, which will be of advantage to all the coast, as they will be ready to give intelligence when the herrings come into the Firth."

After the Union the unequal incidence of the duties leviable for the light of May--English and Irish vessels being charged double rates as foreigners--gave rise to much dissatisfaction. In addition to this, there was a general feeling that anything that was payable in the form of a tax ought not to be held as private property. With regard to the light itself, it gradually became more evident that a coal fire, exposed in an open choffer to the vicissitudes of the weather, was altogether inadequate to the requirements of the shipping trade. After the appointment of a Lighthouse Board in Scotland in the year 1786, those most directly affected often expressed a wish that the light of May should be included as one of the Northern Lights; that it should get the benefit of the most recent improvements; that, in accordance with the spirit and conditions of the Act for the regulation of the Northern Lighthouses, the invidious distinction between the shipping of the three kingdoms should be done away with; and, further, that there should be some prospect of the duties being modified and ultimately ceasing altogether. Moved by these various considerations, the shipping trade of the Firth of Forth repeatedly approached the family of Scotstarvit, into whose hands the property and light of May had come by purchase, in 1714, with a view to the improvement of the old beacon. In consequence of representations from the Chamber of Commerce of Edinburgh, which visited the island in 1786, the choffer was enlarged to the capacity of a square of three feet, and the quantity of fuel annually consumed increased to about 400 tons. The Chamber further recommended that the stock of coals, hitherto exposed to the open air on the island, should in future be kept under cover, and that the supply should invariably be obtained from the collieries of Wemyss, of which the coal was considered fittest for maintaining a steady light, and was consequently employed at Heligoland and other coal lights on the Continent. All these conditions were complied with by Miss Scott of Scotstarvit's tutors, and from that time the May beacon became the most powerful coal light in the kingdom, the capacity of its choffer being double that of any other. But even these improvements could not prevent it from being unsteady in bad weather, and there still remained the great disadvantage that limekilns and other accidental open fires upon the neighbouring coast were apt to be mistaken for the May light. To obviate the possibility of such mistakes, the Trinity House of Leith, in 1790, presented a memorial to the Duke of Portland, who, through his marriage with Miss Scott, had become proprietor of the May, and requested him to replace the coal-beacon by an oil-light with reflectors, enclosed in a glazed light-room. In spite of this application and of many others from various quarters, no further improvements were introduced at the time.

In the year 1809, Robert Stevenson, engineer to the Northern Lights Board, foreseeing that, notwithstanding the recent erection of the Bell Rock Lighthouse, the navigation of this part of the coast would still be very dangerous unless the light of May were improved, took an opportunity of bringing the matter under the notice of the Commissioners, who were not of opinion, however, that it could be taken up by them except at the instance of the proprietor. In the following year the question was brought into prominence by an event of serious importance. Early in the morning of the 19th of December two of His Majesty's ships, the frigates _Nymphen_ and _Pallas_, were wrecked near Dunbar, in consequence, it was believed, of the fire of a limekiln on the Haddingtonshire coast having been mistaken for the May light. The ships were completely lost, but, the weather being moderate, only nine men were drowned out of the joint crews of some 600. It was a remarkable circumstance attending the catastrophe, that, although the two ships had sailed in company, and had struck within a few miles of each other, their similar fate was perfectly unknown to the respective crews till late in the day.

This loss of £100,000 roused the Government to action. Lord Viscount Melville, who was First Lord of the Admiralty at the time, applied to the Lighthouse Board to take over the light of May as one of the Northern Lights. In the negotiations that ensued, the Duke of Portland proposed a scheme, in accordance with which he was to carry out the suggested alterations, and the Commissioners were to become his lessees. This proposal did not, however, meet with the approval of the latter, their opinion being that the only position they could assume in the transaction was that of purchasers for the public. The ultimate result was the acquisition of the Isle of May, together with the light duties, for the sum of £60,000--£3000 less than the Duke of Portland had originally demanded. This was in 1814. That same year an Act was passed reducing the light duty to one penny per ton for all British ships. Immediate measures were also taken for carrying out the necessary improvements. In the course of the following summer, a new lighthouse was erected, and a light from oil, with reflectors, was exhibited on the 1st of February, 1816. The following official description of the new light of May was published at the time:--

"The lighthouse on the Isle of May is situate at the entrance of the Firth of Forth, in North lat. 56° 12´, and long. 2° 36´ west of London. From the lighthouse Fifeness bears by compass N. by E. 1/2 E., distant five miles; and the Staples Rocks, lying off Dunbar, S. by W. 1/2 W., distant ten miles. The light, being formerly from coal, exposed to the weather in an open grate or choffer, was discontinued on the night of the 1st of February, 1816, when a light from oil, with reflectors, known to mariners as a Stationary Light, was exhibited. The new lighthouse tower upon the Isle of May is contiguous to the side of the old one, and is elevated 240 feet above the medium level of the sea, of which the masonry forms 57 feet, and is therefore similar to the old tower in point of height. The new light is defended from the weather in a glazed light-room, and has a uniform steady appearance, resembling a star of the first magnitude, and is seen from all points of the compass, at the distance of about 7 leagues, and intermediately, according to the state of the atmosphere."

In the summer of 1814, shortly after the May had been acquired by the Northern Lights Board, Sir Walter Scott accompanied the Commissioners on their visit of inspection. In the Diary which he kept during the cruise, the following entry occurs under date of the 29th of July, the day on which the lighthouse yacht sailed from Leith:--"Reached the Isle of May in the evening, went ashore, and saw the light--an old tower, and much in the form of a border-keep, with a beacon-grate on the top. It is to be abolished for an oil revolving-light, the grate-fire only being ignited upon the leeward side when the wind is very high.... The isle had once a cell or two upon it. The vestiges of the chapel are still visible. Mr. Stevenson proposed demolishing the old tower, and I recommended 'ruining' it 'à la picturesque', i.e., demolishing it partially. The island might make a delightful residence for bathers."[229] Scott's romantic suggestion was not, however, adopted. The old lighthouse tower on the Isle of May was reduced in height to about 20 feet, and by direction of the Board was converted into a guardroom for the convenience of pilots and fishermen. The square, battlemented, white building is still standing at the present day. Above the door there is a tablet with a figure of the rising sun over the date 1636. It is surmounted by a lion holding an escutcheon, on which the armorial bearings--probably those of the builder--are no longer decipherable. In the vaulted room within the tower there is an old iron grate with the initials A. C., which suit Alexander Cunningham, and are doubtless his.

The ruins mentioned by Sir Walter are also visible at the present day, though in an even more dilapidated state than when he saw them. They are situated in a hollow, towards the south-east end of the island, probably near the spot where the monastery stood. They are doubtless the remains of St. Adrian's Chapel, which continued to be visited by pilgrims long after the destruction of the monastery itself. The space within the walls measures about 32 feet in length and 15 feet in breadth. In the west wall are two windows, of which the semi-circular interior openings seem to indicate Norman work, and suggest the thirteenth century as the date of the building. There are also remnants of windows both in the south and in the north wall. A shapeless gap near the southern extremity shows the position of the door. Just within it there may still be seen what is perhaps a fragment of the holy-water stoup. From the fact that the ruins lie north and south, it has been thought that the chapel occupied only a part of the building, and duly lay east and west within it. If such were the case, it must have been of exceptionally small dimensions, and have contained a very diminutive altar. At the present time no attempt seems to be made to prevent the venerable relic from falling further into decay; and the rough enclosure within which it stands is used as a sheep-pen.

The lighthouse now on the May is situated close to the old tower. It is a massive quadrangular stone building surmounted by a square tower which at a distance gives it the appearance of a church. It first came into use on the 1st of December, 1886. For fifteen years previously the Commissioners of the Northern Lights had been anxious to establish an electric light on the Scottish coast; but it was not till 1883 that the Board of Trade was able to sanction the expenditure, and suggested its introduction at the Isle of May, on the ground that "there was no more important station on the Scottish shores, whether considered as a landfall, as a light for the guidance of the extensive or important trade of the neighbouring coast, or as a light to lead into the refuge of the Forth". The new buildings, engines, electric machines and lamps cost £15,835; but, including old material which it was found possible to utilize, the total installation was estimated at £22,435. As to technical details, it may suffice to mention that the generators are two of De Meritens's alternate-current magneto-electric machines, weighing about four and a half tons each. The engines are a pair of horizontal surface-condensing steam engines, each with two cylinders 9 inches in diameter and 18 inches stroke, making 140 revolutions per minute. There are two steam boilers, of which only one is in use at a time. Each of them is 20 feet long and 5 feet 6 inches in diameter. Only one of the three electric lamps is used at a time, and is changed once an hour to allow it to cool. The light is about 25,000 candle-power, but when seen from the water gives a flash equal to 3,000,000 candles, which can be increased to 6,000,000. The May apparatus is so designed as to give a group of four flashes in quick succession, followed by an interval of darkness lasting thirty seconds. The highest recorded distance at which the reflection of the light has been observed is 61 nautical miles. The May is also provided with a powerful horn, of which the sound serves as a guide during the frequent "haars" or sea-fogs that rise from the North Sea. In addition to this, it has a smaller fixed light which serves as a leading light for ships coming down from Fifeness. It is visible on one side of the island only.

Owing to the increased cost of maintenance of the May light--it is estimated at more than £1000 a year--an Order in Council was issued in 1886, authorizing the collection of two-sixteenths of a penny per ton, as light dues, from vessels carrying cargo or passengers, which may pass or derive benefit from the light when on a coasting or home-trade voyage, and of one penny per ton when on an oversea voyage, subject to the usual deductions.

The May light is served by seven keepers, the chief of whom does not, however, share the watches. Their quarters, which are neat and commodious, and sufficiently large for the accommodation of such of them as have families, are situated at some distance from the lighthouse, between two hills that afford protection from the prevalent gales. Close to them is the engine-house, with its tall chimney-stalk. The necessary supply of water for it is drawn from the little lake, of which early descriptions of the island make mention, and which has now been turned into a reservoir.

FOOTNOTES: for THE ISLE OF MAY

[202] _Statistical Account of Scotland_, vol. iii, p. 84.

[203] Sibbald, _History of Fife_, p. 101.

[204] Hume Brown, _Early Travellers in Scotland_, pp. 68-69.

[205] Hume Brown, _Scotland before 1700_, p. 78.

[206] _Breviar. Aberdonen._, _Pars Hyemalis_, fol. lxii.

[207] Book vi, c. 8.

[208] _Vita S. Kentigerni_, pp. lxxxiii-iv.

[209] _Carte Prioratus Insule de May_, Charters 12-18.

[210] _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_, p. xiv.

[211] _Carte Prioratus_, Charter 24.

[212] _Carte Prioratus_, Charter 25.

[213] Charters 26, 27, 33.

[214] _Carte Prioratus_, Charters 29, 30.

[215] Charter 35.

[216] _Carte Prioratus_, Charter 38.

[217] Charter 39.

[218] _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_, p. xx and Charter 40.

[219] _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_, p. xxi and Charter 41.

[220] _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_, p. ix.

[221] "Proceedings Relative to the Claim of the Abbot and Convent of Reading on the Priory of the Isle of May", op. cit., p. lxxxv, _et seq._

[222] Op. cit., p. xxv.

[223] Op. cit., p. lxxxiij.

[224] Op. cit., p. xxviij.

[225] Op. cit., p. xxvi.

[226] Op. cit., pp. xcvij, _et seq._

[227] Pinkerton, _History of Scotland_, vol. i, p. 208.

[228] _Records of the Priory of the Isle of May_, p. lxxvi, _et seq._

[229] Lockhart, _Life of Sir Walter Scott_, chap. xxviii.

EDINBURGH AND HER PATRON SAINT

Although Edinburgh does not appear to manifest any consciousness of the fact, the 1st of September is the feast of her patron saint. There was a time when solemn celebrations marked the event. But centuries have passed since then; and it would not be very rash to assume that, at the present day, for every thousand of its Presbyterian population, at any rate, the city does not contain one man, woman, or child who knows of any connection between St. Giles and any special day in the year.

In this respect, it is true, Edinburgh is not more indifferent than Glasgow. Every year the 13th of January passes by without the slightest official recognition on the part of the commercial metropolis. In spite of that, however, St. Mungo and St. Giles stand on a very different footing in their respective cities. All Glaswegians know something of their saint. Indeed, their municipal coat of arms makes it impossible for them to be wholly ignorant of his story. The very children amongst them are familiar with the incidents which the bird, the tree, and the ring commemorate; and reference to the capital of the West as the city of St. Mungo is by no means uncommon. But whoever heard Edinburgh call herself the city of St. Giles? Nor is this difference in the esteem in which the two patrons are held unnatural or unaccountable. For, whilst Glasgow's tutelar saint was a true Scot, he under whose special protection the capital chose to put itself was simply an alien. Not but what he was a well-born and eminently venerable person. We are told that St. Giles, or, to give him his Latin name, Egidius, was born in Greece in the seventh century. According to the Roman Breviary, he was of royal lineage. The same authority states that from his youth he showed a great love for sacred learning and for works of charity, and that, at the death of his parents, he bestowed his whole inheritance on the poor. The miracles which he was reported to have wrought brought him a fame which was distasteful to him. To escape from it he retired to Arles, in France. He remained there but a short time, however, having determined to lead the life of a hermit. For this purpose he betook himself to a forest near Gards, in the diocese of Nîmes. There he lived for a long time upon the roots and herbs and the milk of a hind which came to him at regular hours--an act of kindness for which the charitable and faithful animal was not to go unrewarded, and to which, indeed, she owes the honour of figuring in the arms of the city of Edinburgh, of which she is the sinister supporter. One day the hind was chased by the King's hounds, and took refuge in Giles's cave. "Thereby," says the Breviary, "the King of France was moved earnestly to entreat that Giles would allow a monastery to be built in the place where the cave was. Yielding to the pressing solicitations of the King, he took the rule of this monastery, although himself unwilling, and discharged this duty in a wise and godly manner for some years, until he passed away to heaven."[230]

The biographical sketch supplied by the Breviary suggests no connection between Giles and any part of Britain--north or south; neither does there seem to be anything extant to account for his being chosen as the tutelar saint of Edinburgh. There are, however, documents which prove that, as far back as the thirteenth century, the parish church was dedicated to him. Arnot states, on the authority of a charter in the Advocates' Library, that, in the reign of James II, Preston of Gortoun, having got possession of a relic which was alleged to be an arm-bone of St. Giles, bequeathed it to the mother kirk.[231] In gratitude for this gift, the magistrates of the city granted a charter in favour of the heirs of Preston, entitling the nearest heir of the donor, being of the name of Preston, to carry this sacred relic in all processions. The magistrates, at the same time, obliged themselves to found in this church an altar, and to appoint a chaplain, for celebrating an annual mass of requiem for the soul of the donor. They also ordered that a tablet, displaying his arms and describing his pious donation, should be put in the chapel. The relic, enshrined in silver, was kept amongst the treasures of the church till the Reformation.[232]

The outburst of iconoclasm which is chronicled by John Knox as one of the marks of progress of the Reformation in Scotland proved fatal to St. Giles. "The images were stolen away in all parts of the country," says the historian, "and in Edinburgh was that great idol called St. Giles first drowned in the North Loch, and after burned, which raised no small trouble in the town." This was in 1557. But twelve months later there occurred what may be looked upon as the public and formal denial by Edinburgh of her patron saint, and his violent and shameful deposition by his whilom devotees. This "tragedy of St. Giles" is recorded by Knox with that grim humour which is characteristic of him. He relates that, on the approach of St. Giles's day, the bishops gave charge to the Provost, Bailies, and Council of Edinburgh, either to get the old St. Giles again, or else to provide a new image at their expense. To this the Council answered, in words that breathe the very spirit of the reformer himself, "That to them the charge appeared very unjust. They understood that God, in some places, had commanded idols and images to be destroyed, but where He had commanded images to be set up, they had not read; and they desired the Archbishop of St. Andrews to find a warrant for his commandment."

In spite of this refusal, the priests and friars determined to have "that great solemnity and manifest abomination which they accustomably had upon St. Giles's day", or, in other words, to hold the annual procession. To replace the statue that had come to grief the year before, "a marmoset idol" was borrowed from the Grey Friars; who, as security for its safe return, required the deposit of "a silver piece". It was made fast with iron nails to a feretory, or portable shrine. "There assembled priests, friars, canons, and rotten Papists, with tabours and trumpets, banners and bagpipes. And who was there to lead the ring but the Queen Regent herself, with all her shavelings, for honour of that feast?" For all her unpopularity, Mary exercised a restraining influence on the mob. But that day she was to dine "in Sandie Carpetyne's house, betwixt the Bows"--that is to say, between the West Bow and the Nether Bow; and so when, after going down the High Street and as far as the foot of the Canongate, "the idol returned back again, she left it and passed in to her dinner".

The Regent's withdrawal from the procession was the signal for the outbreak of the riot which Knox dignifies with the title of "the enterprise". They that were of it at once approached to the statue, and pretended they were anxious to help in bearing it. Having got the feretory upon their shoulders, they began to shake it roughly, thinking that this would bring down the "idol". But the iron nails resisted such slight efforts, and, casting aside all pretence, they pulled it down violently to the cry of "Down with the idol! down with it!" "Some brag made the priests' patrons at the first," records Knox; "but they soon saw the feebleness of their god, for one took him by the heels, and dadding his head to the causeway, left Dagon without head or hands, and said, 'Fie upon thee, thou young St. Giles, thy father would have tarried for such!' This considered, the priests and friars fled faster than they did at Pinkie Cleuch! Down go the crosses, off go the surplices, and the round caps corner with the crowns. The Grey Friars gaped, the Black Friars blew, the priests panted and fled, and happy was he that first go into the house; for such a sudden fray came never among the generation of Antichrist within this realm before."[233]

These riotous proceedings chanced to be witnessed by a "merry Englishman", who, seeing that there was more noise and confusion than hurt or injury, and that the discomfiture was bloodless, thought he would add some merriment to the matter. And the gibes in which he indulged so tickled Knox's sense of humour that he duly records them: "Fie upon you, why have ye broken order? Down the street ye passed in great array and with great mirth. Why fly ye, villains, now without order? Turn and strike every man a stroke, for the honour of his god! Fie, cowards, fie, ye shall never be judged worthy of your wages again!" "But," adds the chronicler, "exhortations were then unprofitable; for after Baal had broken his neck there was no comfort to his confused army."

From that memorable fall of his, on September 1, 1558, St. Giles has never recovered. His name, indeed, is not wholly forgotten, and cannot be, so long as Edinburgh's venerable cathedral bears it; but if he be in honour anywhere, it is not in the city which once chose him for its patron, even in preference to any in the respectable company of home-bred saints that lay ready at hand in the calendar.

FOOTNOTES: for EDINBURGH AND HER PATRON SAINT

[230] _Pars Estiva_, Folio xcvi.

[231] _History of Edinburgh_, pp. 267-8.

[232] _History of Edinburgh_, pp. 267-8.

[233] _History of the Reformation_, pp. 95-6.

THE ROCK OF DUMBARTON

Some Incidents in its History

The Castle of Dumbarton is one of the Scottish fortresses for the maintenance of which special provision was made in the Treaty of Union. In its case, however, little more than the mere letter of the law has been observed. For years past its sole garrison has consisted of a caretaker; and, in so far as any practical purpose is concerned, it has ceased to be a stronghold at all. But, though no longer possessing any military importance, the old "Fort of the Britons" is still interesting and noteworthy for the part that it played, through so many centuries, in the national history.

There is no evidence to prove that the wall built across the country by the Roman invaders extended quite as far as Dumbarton. It cannot be supposed, however, that they ignored the strategic importance of the Rock, and failed to occupy a position which was practically the key to the West of Scotland. As to the existence of a fort during the period that followed the evacuation of Britain by the Romans, there can be no doubt. The Welsh chronicles refer to it under the name of Alclud, or Alcluid, that is, "the Rock of the Clyde". Further, it is recorded in the _Historia Britonum_ "that, as the result of a battle fought between the Britons and the sons of Ida, in 573, the greater part of the North Country fell into the hands of a king called Ryderchen, who chose as his seat the stronghold known to the Gaels by the name of Dunbraton," or the fort of the Britons--the original form of the modern Dumbarton. In confirmation of this sixth-century occupation of the Rock, there is a passage in the life of Columba where Adamnan states that the saint was consulted by King Rodorcus, son of Totail, who reigned on the Rock of the Clyde.[234] Under the date of 870, the _Annals of Ulster_ and other Irish chronicles record that the Norse leaders Amlaiph and Imhar laid siege to Strathclyde, in Britain. Besides cutting off all provisions, they were able to draw off, "in a wonderful manner", the water of the well within the fortress. By reducing the defenders to such a state of weakness that they could not repulse their assailants, hunger and thirst gave the Norsemen possession of the fortress.[235]

At the time of the dispute between Bruce and Baliol, the Castle of Dumbarton was in the keeping of Nicholas de Segrave. By virtue of the right that he claimed as feudal superior, Edward I commanded the fortress to be handed over to the competitor in whose favour he had pronounced. It was not till 1296, however, that the English King was able to enforce his order, and to appoint a Governor of his own choosing. This was Alexander de Ledes, whom he also made Sheriff of the County. De Ledes was succeeded by Sir John Menteith, who earned an unenviable notoriety by the betrayal and capture of Wallace, and to whose keeping the illustrious prisoner was entrusted prior to his being removed to London. The Scottish hero's sword was long preserved as an historical relic in the Castle. An entry in the Accounts of the Lord Treasurer shows that it was there at the time of James IV's visit, in 1505, and that the King paid for "binding of Wallass sword with cordis of silk, and new hilt, and plomet, new skabbard, and new belt to the said sword".[236] It was not till 1888 that this interesting memorial of the patriot was transferred to Stirling.

On the doubtful authority of a passage to be found in some of the manuscript versions of Bower's continuation of Fordun, Dumbarton is made the scene of one of Bruce's many narrow escapes from falling into the hands of his enemies. The account given is to the effect that the Scottish King, wishing to obtain possession of the Castle, entered into negotiations with Menteith, by whom it was still held for the English, and that the treacherous Governor, on the understanding that he should receive the Earldom of Lennox as his reward, consented to deliver the fortress. As Bruce, with a number of followers, was on his way to enter into possession, in accordance with the agreement, he was met by a carpenter whom Bower calls Roland, who warned him that Menteith meant to capture or kill him. Being thus forewarned, the King was able to turn the tables on his intending captor, who was himself confined in the Castle till shortly before Bannockburn, when he was released on condition that he should fight against the English.[237]

Another romantic episode, to which no date can be assigned, is related by Sir William Fraser, on the authority of "tradition". The sovereign that occupied the throne of Scotland at the time, he says, had lost Dumbarton Castle, and was anxious to recover it. Having applied to one of the Colquhouns for assistance, the answer he got from the Laird of Luss was, "If I can". "Colquhoun let a stag loose on the level ground within sight of the Castle, and got up a mock hunt after it, with great blowing of horns, and other noises, to attract the attention of the garrison, hoping that they might be induced to join in the sport and leave the fortress undefended. Everything happened as Colquhoun had wished. Nearly the whole of the garrison went forth to take part in the pastime. During their absence, Colquhoun and the men that he had selected hastened into the Castle, overpowered the feeble remainder of its defenders, and made themselves its masters."[238] This incident of "early times" may possibly be authentic; but it looks rather suspiciously like an ingenious attempt to find a plausible and picturesque origin for the Colquhoun motto, "Si je puis".

At the beginning of the fifteenth century, the Castle of Dumbarton was made to serve a very singular purpose. In circumstances of which no explanation is given, an individual whom Wyntoun describes as

"Mastere Waltere off Danyelstoune, Off Kyncardyn in Nele Persowne",[239]

took possession of the fortress, and, as Fordun adds, held it "with a large military force, to the great annoyance of the King and the kingdom". The Government being unable to drive him out, was obliged to accept the condition on which he offered to surrender his capture. It was nothing less than his appointment to the See of St. Andrews; and he had his way, being elected Bishop in 1402. He did not, however, long enjoy the dignity with which he had got himself clothed,

"Agane conscience of mony men,"

for

"Sone efftyre, at the Yule deit he; Swa litill mare than a halff yere Lestyt he in his powere."[240]

The latter years of the same century witnessed one of the most important events in the history of Dumbarton Castle. In 1488, it was entrusted to the keeping of the Earl of Lennox and his eldest son, Matthew Stuart, who, in the course of the following year, engaged, with Lord Lyle and others, in a conspiracy for the overthrow of the Government, and fortified the stronghold accordingly. Repeated summons to surrender having been disregarded, messengers were dispatched through the whole county to convoke the militia; and it was arranged that, whilst James proceeded in person to Crookston and Duchal, Colin, first Earl of Argyle, should lay siege to Dumbarton Castle; and elaborate preparation was made for the transport of the most powerful artillery of the day, including the famous Mons Meg, into the rebellious West. The smaller strongholds were soon reduced, but the Rock held out, and the defenders, making a vigorous sally, dislodged their assailants by burning the town, and so raised the siege. The Royal forces, on being thus driven off, fell back upon Dunglas, where new materials were quickly collected, another great gun, "callit Duchal", being brought from Arkil, near Paisley, the boats conveyed overland from Daldres--the present Grangemouth--and from Blackness. With all this, it was not till the second week in December, fully seven months after the commencement of operations, that the stronghold was obliged to surrender. A formal sentence of forfeiture and death was passed on Lennox and his son, but annulled on their appeal by reason of some technical flaw.

Passing over the lesser siege of 1513-14, the occupation of 1543 in the interest of Henry VIII, the departure of the child-queen Mary, in 1548, and other events of slighter importance, we come to the most sensational episode of all. It was after Langside. Lord Fleming had returned from accompanying Queen Mary to England, and had resumed his governorship of the fortress which he held for her. The Regent Murray was desirous of obtaining possession of so important a position, and, negotiations having failed, went down in person to open the siege. So strict was the blockade that Fleming was on the point of surrendering when the assassination of Murray brought him some respite. Lennox, who succeeded as Regent, was equally bent on the capture of the Castle, and endeavoured to obtain help from England. But Elizabeth was opposed to hostile measures, and sent Drury to reopen negotiations with Lord Fleming and John Hamilton, Bishop of St. Andrews, who was with him. The mission nearly proved fatal to the English ambassador. He was enticed within gunshot and deliberately, though unsuccessfully, fired upon.[241] This dastardly attempt is the subject of a contemporary poem entitled _The Tressoun of Dunbartane_.

The siege continued to drag on slowly, when about the end of March, 1571, a man named Robertson, who had formerly belonged to the garrison, but who wished to be revenged for some punishment inflicted on his wife, suggested a plan for taking the Castle by surprise. It was adopted, and Captain Thomas Crawfurd of Jordanhill was entrusted with the desperate enterprise. On the evening of the 31st, Crawfurd sent forward some horsemen to intercept all communication with Dumbarton, he himself following about midnight with a body of resolute men. After a short halt at Dumbuck, the party, provided with ropes and ladders, proceeded to the foot of the Rock, which was to be scaled at the "Beik", for although this was the highest point, it offered the advantage of being unguarded, by reason of its supposed inaccessibility. At the first attempt the ladder slipped back with the weight of the climbers. On the second it was found that it did not reach within twenty feet of a tree to which it was intended to make it fast. The difficulty was overcome by Crawfurd, who, crawling up to the tree, threw a rope around it, and thus enabled his party to reach this first stage. The operation was being repeated for a further ascent when an accident nearly brought disaster on the whole undertaking. One of the men fell into a kind of fit whilst on the ladder, and remained clinging desperately to the rungs and blocking the way. But, even for this, Crawfurd's readiness devised a remedy. Lashing the man to the ladder, he turned it round, so that the remainder of the party could mount over their comrade's upturned body. Owing to the delay caused by these untoward occurrences, it was nearly daylight when the first of the assailants reached the top. They were seen by the sentries through the fog, which had so far favoured them, and the alarm was given. The resistance offered was, however, but feeble. Three men of the garrison were killed. Many of the others, including Fleming himself, succeeded in escaping. Amongst those that were taken prisoners was the Bishop of St. Andrews. He was subsequently hanged for complicity in the murders of Darnley and of Murray.[242]

Another noteworthy capture of Dumbarton Castle occurred in 1639. At that time the fortress was held for the king by Sir William Stewart. On the last Sunday in March, having gone to the Communion service in Dumbarton, he was invited to dinner by Provost Sempill, a zealous Covenanter. To his refusal Sempill replied, "I require you to go with me." Thereupon the Governor and his party were surrounded by forty armed men and hurried off to the Provost's house, where, under threats of death, Stewart was obliged to send for the keys and to hand them over to his captor. The sequel is told by Spalding. "Stewart," he says, "was compelled to cast off his clothes, which were shortly put upon another gentleman of his shape and quantity, and he put on his clothes upon him again. Thus, apparel interchanged, they commanded the Captain, under pain of death, to tell the watchword, which, for fear of his life, he truly told. Then they go in the night quietly, unseen by the Castilians, and had this counterfeit captain with them, who cried and called by the watchword, which heard, yetts are cast open, in go these Covenanters with greater power than was within to defend it, take in this strong strength, man and fortify the same to their mind."[243]

The further vicissitudes of Dumbarton Castle--its alternate occupation by Royalists and Parliamentarians during the Civil War, its use at various periods as a place of confinement for such different prisoners as Ogilvie the Jesuit, Carstairs and his fellow Covenanters, the Marquis of Tullibardine and other Jacobites--would require to be recorded in detail in a more complete sketch of the history of the Rock. They may be passed over without further mention in what lays no claim to do more than to recall some of the leading incidents in its chequered story.

FOOTNOTES: for THE ROCK OF DUMBARTON

[234] Sir W. Fraser, _The Lennox_, vol. i, p. 43.

[235] Ware, _Irish Antiquities_, p. 108.

[236] Sir W. Fraser, op. cit., p. 76.

[237] Sir W. Fraser, op. cit., pp. 78 and 236.

[238] _Ibid._, p. 77.

[239] Wyntoun's _Orygynale Cronykil_, vol. ii, p. 397.

[240] _Ibid._, p. 398.

[241] _State Papers, Scotland_: _Elizabeth_, vol. xviii, No. 45.

[242] _Bannatyne's Memoriales_, p. 196.

[243] _History of the Troubles in Scotland and England_, vol. i, pp. 157, 158.

JAMES VI AS STATESMAN AND POET

I.--AS STATESMAN

Those who accept the traditional estimate of James VI's character may deem it little short of preposterous to connect his name with the idea of statesmanship. To them he appears as a garrulous pedant and a coarse buffoon, whose rickety walk was the outward sign of a feeble, vacillating temper; as a would-be autocrat who, whilst constantly obtruding his despotic theories on his subjects, lacked the strength of mind and the energy to put them into practice; and, to express it briefly and bluntly in the words of Macaulay, as "a drivelling idiot" and "a finished specimen of all that a king ought not to be".[244] But there is another portrait that may be drawn of him. Materials for it will be found not in the rhetorical descriptions of writers whose aim was literary effect or political denunciation, but in those absolutely trustworthy, if most prosaic and unimaginative documents, the Acts of the Privy Council. And it was Professor Masson, the editor of those records, who asserted that it is impossible for anyone duly acquainted with them "to think of James as other than a man of a very remarkable measure of political ability and inventiveness, with a tenacity and pertinacity of purpose that could show itself in a savage glitter of the eye whenever he was offended or thwarted, and in a merciless rigour in hunting down and crushing his ascertained opponents".[245] It is worth going to the same sources of information for the purpose of determining to what extent this view is justified.

In any attempt at a survey of the administration of James VI it is important to remember that, although he became nominal sovereign at an early age, it was not until he had reached his thirtieth year that he got the reins of government fully into his own hands. That occurred towards the close of 1595, at the death of Lord Maitland of Thirlstane, after a Chancellorship and Premiership of over eight years. It was then that on being asked how he intended to fill up the vacant office, James replied that he was resolved no more to use great men as Chancellors in his affairs, but only such as he could correct and were hangable.[246]

The peculiar idea of kingship or sovereign authority which the enfranchised monarch thus expressed, and which he took every opportunity of repeating in both his speeches and his writings, is the more noteworthy that it was opposed to the principles which must have been inculcated upon him in his early years. For it must be remembered that his tutor, Buchanan, was a politician as well as a scholar, and that it was he who wrote the famous treatise, _De Jure Regni apud Scotos_, that vigorous exposition of liberal and constitutional monarchy which justifies the description of its author as "the first Whig". It is certainly not to him that James's training in autocracy is to be attributed, but rather to Thirlstane. That statesman, it is true, ruled the Court and the country for years with a fixity of purpose and a firmness of hand that bore down opposition, and did not allow the King himself any opportunity of asserting his independence. At the same time, however, he did not fail to urge upon him the necessity for dealing energetically with the abuses which had arisen owing to the turbulent insolence and the intolerable oppression of the arrogant nobility. James had not been deaf to advice so conformable with his character and disposition. He had taken it so thoroughly to heart that, although he could not shake himself free from his Minister's despotism, it had become irksome and galling to him. When Maitland lay on his deathbed his Sovereign refused repeated requests to visit him, and it was even said that he had whispered in a courtier's ear that "it would be a small matter if the Chancellor were hanged".[247] The years that intervened between Maitland's death and James's departure from Scotland at length gave the King his opportunity, and not only did he at once show his determination of becoming master within his own kingdom, but he also succeeded in actually carrying it out to a very noteworthy degree. And of the qualifications that enabled him to do so none was more conspicuously displayed than his ability to extract power to shape things according to his mind from the very incidents that the opposition to his royal will and pleasure evoked. An instance of this was afforded by his energetic conduct when the Edinburgh riot of December, 1596, originating in a demonstration in favour of the rights of Presbytery, as championed by Mr. David Black, of St. Andrews, gave him a chance of striking at the antagonists to his notion of supremacy. And the same inflexibility of purpose and dexterous management of circumstances appeared, four years later, in the use which he made of the Gowrie tragedy as an instrument for the subjection of the Scottish clergy. The monarch who could turn such occurrences as those to political profit had some right to boast of his "kingcraft". We may not approve of the system which he followed of marking out individual opponents and of striking them down with a strong and merciless hand, but we must admit that it proved effectual, and acknowledge that the man whose conduct of the bitter struggle it characterized cannot be contemptuously dismissed as "a nervous, drivelling idiot".

One of the special points with regard to which James has a claim to recognition is the zeal with which he undertook and consistently performed the task of checking the lawlessness and rebellion that had been rampant in Scotland during his minority. The Royal Declaration in which he announced his intention of bestowing his "haill travellis, moyane, and diligens" on the work of reform was not allowed to remain a dead letter. Page after page of the records testify to the resoluteness with which he enforced the laws which had for their object the restoration of order throughout the kingdom, and which were directed more particularly against two classes of offenders--the "horners" and the members of families at hereditary feud. Horners, as they were called in Scotland, were all persons who stood out in denounced disobedience to the decrees of any law court, for any kind of offence from simple debt to murder and treason. At one time the country was full of such. Mere proclamations against them having proved of little avail, James at length had recourse to a measure which proved more effectual. He established a flying police, consisting of a body of forty well-equipped horsemen, "to be in reddiness at all occasiounis to hunt, follow and perseu all and quhatsumevir rebellis within this countrie, without respect of persones, quhither thair rebellioun be for civill or criminall caussis, and to tak thair houssis and uplift thair eschaitis as thai salbe directit and commandit".[248] The beneficial result of these stringent disciplinary measures was soonest and most distinctly apparent in the Borders, or, as James desired them to be called after his accession to the English throne, "the Midland Shires of Britain", which, within the space of four or five years, were so thoroughly subdued that they ceased to be a sanctuary for rough-riding reivers, and entered upon that more peaceful era of their existence which has now lasted for three hundred years.

In an Act "anent deidly feidis", evidently emanating from James himself, the Council reminded the lieges that "The Kingis most gratious Majestie, ever since his first cuming to yeiris of perfectioun", had displayed "ain maist ernest and ardent zaill and desyer to have removit frome amange his subjectis of the cuntrey of Scotland all sic custumis, faschiounnis, and behaviouris as did in ony weyis smell of barbarity and sevegnes", and had been unremitting in his endeavours to suppress the "barbarous and detestable consuetud of deidly feids".[249] Nothing could be better founded than the claim thus put forward on the King's behalf, for one of the most commendable features in his administration is to be found in the perseverance with which he strove to put an end to this characteristically Scottish form of disorder by means both of preventive and punitive legislation. He did not succeed in wholly rooting out the "weid of deidly feid", but there is abundant evidence to prove that, thanks to vigilant care and vigorous action, he was able to check its baneful growth.

In taking the measure of James VI as a statesman, it is important not to overlook the method which he adopted to carry on the government of Scotland as an absentee king. It is assuredly no sign of weakness or incapacity that the nearest approach to that absolutism that he had set up as his ideal was made by him after his departure to take possession of the crown left him by Elizabeth. What he achieved in this respect was once set forth by him in a speech to his refractory English Parliament. "This I must say for Scotland, and may truly vaunt it: here I sit and govern it with my pen; I write and it is done; and by a Clerk of the Council I govern Scotland now--which others could not do by the sword."[250] That such was literally the case, that he kept himself fully acquainted with everything that went on in his northern kingdom, and that the measures adopted by his Ministers for its control and management were nothing but the embodiment of his Royal will, is established beyond dispute by the letters which he periodically sent to Edinburgh from his palace in the capital or one of his hunting seats in the shires.

Even the most hostile of James VI's critics give him credit for having endeavoured to promote one excellent measure--the union of England and Scotland. To what negotiations the scheme gave rise, how it was discussed in both Parliaments, what eloquent testimony Sir Francis Bacon bore to the statesmanlike character of the King's views and intentions, and in what circumstances the projected treaty broke down under the weight of English prejudice and jealousy--those are the details of a story which cannot be told now. It must suffice to recall that, if James had had his way, history would have been anticipated by a whole century.

II.--AS POET

The "bagage littéraire" of James VI is but slight, and if the profound indifference of all and the absolute ignorance of most as to its very existence be taken as representing a fair estimate of its merit it must in truth be worthless. But if, on the other hand, we consult his contemporaries we must, unless we are prepared to dismiss them all as more shamelessly fulsome in their adulation than the average of courtly flatterers, at least recognize the possibility of his having been a little better than posterity has been taught to believe. Long before James VI became James I his reputation as a poet had reached England, and helped to swell the chorus of welcome that greeted him on his arrival. In 1598 Barnfield made the King's love of poetry the point of one of his sonnets:--

And you, that discommend sweet Poesie, (So that the Subject of the same be good) Here may you see your fond simplicitie, Sith Kings have favored it, of royal Blood. The King of Scots--now living--is a poet, As his "Lepanto" and his "Furies" show it.[251]

Before this, Harvey in his _Pierce's Supererogation_, had already proclaimed the poetical merit of "Lepanto", declaring it, in his high-flown style, to be "a short, but heroicall worke, in meeter, but royall meeter, fitt for a David's harpe".[252] Two years later the judgment of Vaughan was that "James is a notable Poet, and daily setteth out most learned poems, to the admiration of all his subjects".[253] In 1600 Allott gave ten quotations from James in his _England's Parnassus_, and Bodenham claims that in "The Garden of the Muses", from "what workes of Poetrie have been put to the world's eye by that learned and right royall King and Poet, James King of Scotland, no one sentence of worth has escaped".[254] After the accession to the English throne, Jonson addressed "To King James" an epigram of ten lines, in which he expanded the idea of the monarch's excellence as both prince and poet:--

"How, best of kings, dost thou a scepter bear? How, best of poets, dost thou the laurel wear? But two things rare the Fates had in their store, And gave thee both, to show they could no more. For such a poet, while thy days were green, Thou wert, as chief of them are said t'have been. And such a prince thou art, we daily see, As chief of those still promise they will be. Whom should my Muse then fly to, but the best Of Kings, for grace; of poets, for my test?"[255]

And Sir John Beaumont, in a carefully polished poem written before, but published after James's death, and entitled "To His late Maiesty, concerning the True Forme of English Poetry", bestowed upon him the more subtle flattery of calling him the Master whose "judicious rules" have been his guide.[256] Here the reference is to James, not only as a poet but as a critic also. For one of his early prose treatises was entitled _Reulis and Cautelis to be Observit and Eschewit in Scottis Poesie_. This was the manifesto of a group of poets, amongst whom were, in addition to the King himself, Alexander Montgomerie, the author of _The Cherry and the Slae_; Fowler, and the Hudsons, and whose aim was to found a school of Scottish poetry. This document contained a passage which is interesting enough to be quoted. Setting forth the "twa caussis" that have induced him to compose his treatise, the Royal lawgiver of Parnassus says: "The ane is; as for thame that wrait of auld, lyke as the tyme is changeit sinsyne, so is the ordour of poesie changeit. The other cause is; that as for thame that has written in it of late, there has never ane of thame written in our (Scottis) languag. For albeit sindrie hes written of it in English, quhilk is lykest to our language, zit we differ from thame in sindrie reulis of poesie, as ze will find be experience."[257] And we believe there are Scotsmen who will account it to James for righteousness that he at least made an attempt, abortive though it proved, to maintain Scotland's autonomy in language and in poetry.

In forming an estimate of the King's poetical productions, it is but fair to bear in mind that "all of his poems, save three or four sonnets and the revisions of his early paraphrases of the Psalms, belong to the period of his reign in Scotland", and that "the greater portion of them were composed either before the publication of the first volume of his poems in his nineteenth year or in the time of romantic enthusiasm excited by his marriage".[258] We have "The First Verses that ever the King Made". They are written in a sententious vein which might be looked upon as characteristic of the author, were it not that this special feature "is one of the commonest in Scottish poetry of the Chaucerian tradition". And if, on the one hand, it cannot be claimed for them that they bear evidence of exceptional talent, on the other it must be admitted that, as the production of a lad of fifteen, they were quite creditable:--

Since thought is free, thinke what thow will, O troubled heart, to ease thy paine! Thought unreveeled can doe no ill, But words past out turne not again. Be cairfull, ay, for to invent The way to gett thyne owne intent.

To play thyself with thy conceate, And lett none know what thow doth meane; Hope ay at last, though it be lait, To thy intent for to atteane: Whiles, lett it breake furth in effect, By ay lett witt thy will correct.

Since fool-haste is not greatest speed, I would thou shouldest learne to know How to make vertue of a need, Since that necessitie hath no law. With patience, then, see thow attend, And hope to vanquishe in the end.[259]

James was still, as he puts it himself, in his "verie young and tender yeares: wherein nature (except shee were a monster) can admit no perfection", when he wrote his "Lepanto", which his contemporaries seem to have looked upon as the best of his poems, and to which Du Bartas paid the compliment of translating it into French. It is no masterpiece, but Mr. Westcott, the editor of the _New Poems by James I of England_, does not exaggerate the author's merit when he says that "his style in the description of the battle between the Christian and the Turkish navies is concrete and lively, and at times achieves an almost ballad-like simplicity". This seems to us to be justified by such lines as those which describe the gathering of the Christian forces:--

There came eight thousand Spaniards brave From hotte and barren Spaine, Good order kepars, cold in fight, With proud disdainfull braine. From pleasant, fertill Italie There came twelve thousand als, With subtill spreites bent to revenge, By craftie meanes and fals. Three thousande Almans also came, From Countries colde and wide; These monney men with awfull cheare The chok will dourelie bide.[260]

James did not make frequent use of this metre, but he adopted it for another poem of a very different kind, "A Dreame on his Mistris my Ladie Glammes", in which he displays some ingenuity and inventive skill. Interpreting one of the tokens that have been left him--an amethyst--he says:

The secret vertues that are hidd Into this pretious stone Indues me with meete qualities For serving such a one; For as this stone by secret force Can soveraignlie remeade These daizeled braines whome Bacchus' strength Ou'rcomes as they were deade, And can preserve us from the harme Of the envenomed sting, Of poysoned cuppes, that to our tombe Untymelie does us bring, So shall my hart be still preserved By vertue from above, From staggering like a drunken man Or wavering into love: Bot by this soveraigne antidote Of her whom still I serve, In spite of all the poysoned lookes, Of Dames I shall not swerve.[261]

There are 268 lines altogether, and the discovery of them ought to contribute in some degree to the poetical rehabilitation of the author.

As a knowledge of James's character would suggest, his interest in the art of poetry was mainly directed to the details of verse making and diction, and it seems natural in such a stickler for metrical propriety that in his shorter poems his favourite form should have been the sonnet. His highest achievement in this department has always been considered to be the sonnet to his son Henry, at the beginning of the _Basilicon Doron_:--

God gives not Kings the stile of Gods in vaine, For on his Throne his Scepter doe they swey: And as their subjects ought them to obey, So Kings should feare and serve their God againe: If then ye would enjoy a happie raigne, Observe the Statutes of your heavenly King, And from his Law make all your Lawes to spring: Since his Lieutenant here ye should remaine, Reward the just, be stedfast, true and plaine, Represse the proud, maintayning aye the right, Walk alwayes so, as ever in his sight, Who guardes the godly, plaguing the prophane; And so ye shall in Princely virtues shine, Resembling right your mightie King Divine.

Of this poem Bishop Percy said that it would not dishonour any writer of that time, and a later critic has pronounced that it is by far James's best performance, "which just misses being really fine". By the side of it there may now be placed, by reason of their "sustained music, conformity to the technique of the sonnet, and prettiness of fancy, if not elevation", at least three others which figure amongst the twenty-six hitherto unpublished poems included in the manuscript which Mr. Westcott has discovered. One of them refers to a lady, probably the daughter of Sir John Wemyss, whose name was Cicely:--

Faire famous Isle, where Agathocles rang; Where sometymes, statly Siracusa stood; Whos fertill feelds were bathed in bangster's blood When Rome and ryvall Carthage strave so lang: Great Ladie Mistriss, all the Isles amang, Which standes in Neptune's, circle mouving, flood; No, nather for thy frutefull ground nor good; I chuse the, for the subject of my sang: Nor for the ould report, of scarce trew fame; Nor heeretofore, for farelies in the found; But, for the sweet resemblance of that Name, To whom thou seemest, so sibb, at least, in sound; If then, for seeming so, thy prays bee such, Sweet She herselfe, dothe merit more than much.[262]

On the strength of this, or of anything we have quoted from James's poems, it would be supremely unreasonable to claim for him a place on the same level as that of the authors either of "The King's Quhair" or of "The Gaberlunzie Man". But it may be less unjustifiable to suggest that he is not absolutely undeserving of a corner in anthologies of the Scottish poems of the sixteenth and of the early seventeenth century. That he is altogether contemptible is an opinion that might be maintained if we had nothing better of his than the string of punning rhymes quoted in the notes to Walpole's _Royal and Noble Authors_, for the purpose of making him appear ridiculous.[263]

FOOTNOTES: for JAMES VI AS STATESMAN AND POET

[244] _Essay on John Hampden._

[245] _Register of the Privy Council of Scotland_, vol. vii, p. xxvii.

[246] Tytler, _History of Scotland_, p. 238.

[247] Tytler, _History of Scotland_, p. 238.

[248] _Register of the Privy Council of Scotland_, vol. vi, pp. 581-2.

[249] _Register of the Privy Council of Scotland_, vol. vi, p. 594.

[250] _Register of the Privy Council of Scotland_, vol. vii, p. xxv.

[251] Westcott, _New Poems by James I of England_.

[252] Westcott, _New Poems by James I of England_.

[253] _Ibid._

[254] _Ibid._

[255] Op. cit., p. lxxx.

[256] Op. cit., p. lxxxi.

[257] Edited by R. P. Gillies, Edin., 1814; _The Authour to the Reader_.

[258] Westcott, op. cit., p. xlv.

[259] Calderwood, _Historie of the Kirk of Scotland_, vol. iii, Appendix, p. 784.

[260] Op. cit., p. lxix.

[261] _Ibid._, p. 15-16.

[262] Op. cit., p. 39.

[263] "In the _Muses' Welcome to King James_, printed at Edinburgh in 1618, folio, the royal visitor greeted his Scottish subjects with a string of punning rhymes on the names of certain learned professors, which some of them were sagacious enough to turn into Latin. As a sample of the literary taste which prevailed at this academic visitation, these quibbling verses on the name of the college disputants are here subjoined:--

As _Adam_ was the first of men, whence all beginning tak So _Adam-son_ was president, and first man in this act. The theses _Fair-lie_ did defend, which though they lies contain, Yet were _fair-lies_ and he the same right fairlie did maintain. The field first entred master _Sands_, and there he made me see That not all _Sands_ are barren sands, but that some fertile bee. Then master _Young_ most subtilie the theses did impugne, And kythed _old_ in Aristotle, although his name bee Young. To him succeeded master Reid, who though _reid_ be his name Neids neither for his disput blush, nor of his speach think shame. Last entred master _King_ the lists, and dispute like a _King_ How reason reigning as a _queene_ should anger underbring. To their deserved praise have I thus played upon their names; And wills their colledge hence be called the Colledge of KING JAMES."

--Horace Walpole, _Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors_, Edit. 1806, vol. i, p. 125.

THE INVASION OF AILSA CRAIG

Although in the possession of the historic family of Kennedy, to the head of which it gives his title, Ailsa Craig, the imposing "ocean pyramid" that rises in solitary grandeur to a height of over 1100 feet above the waters of the Firth of Clyde, does not figure prominently in the annals of the country, nor in the special records of the district to which it belongs. Its whole story consists of a single episode, which, though hardly noticed by modern historians, created some excitement, both in Scotland and in England, at the time of its occurrence, and may be read with interest at the present day. That incident, the invasion of Ailsa Craig, which it is here intended to relate on the authority of contemporary documents, takes us back to the year 1597. The chief actors in it were Hugh Barclay, Laird of Ladylands, an Ayrshire gentleman of good family, whose estate was situated in the neighbourhood of Irvine, and Andrew Knox, "minister of God's worde at Paselye".

Though originally a member of the Presbyterian Church, Ladylands had made "defectioun and apostacie fra the said trewe religioun". In the correspondence of the time he is usually to be found figuring in the lists of those whom it was customary to describe as "practising Papists", a designation not undeserved in his case, for amongst the religious enthusiasts who devoted themselves to the restoration of the old religion none displayed a greater fixity of purpose, a more unscrupulous contempt for the law, or a more reckless disregard of personal danger. Andrew Knox, on the other hand, in spite of his peaceful calling, gave proof of equal determination and equal audacity in the fulfilment of the self-imposed mission of hunting down "Jesuitis, seminarie preistis, and suspect trafficquaris with the King of Spain, and utheris foreynaris". The plotting of the laird and the counter-plotting of the minister had more than once brought the two men into personal conflict. Indeed, so far as extant documents go, the career of the one is practically identified with the career of the other.

In 1592, which seems to be the year in which he abandoned Presbyterianism, Ladylands was "excommunicated for Papistrye", but granted "a licence to departe out of the realme". Before his departure, however, it was discovered that he and "twoe Inglishmen of the worst sorte haunted togither" at Irvine and other places in the west.[264] In consequence of this, it was at once resolved to take him and his accomplices "quietlie", and to bring them back to Edinburgh. The difficult task of apprehending him was undertaken by Andrew Knox, and successfully carried out, though at "no little paines and perill". He pursued the conspirators through Glasgow and towards Irvine, and pressed them so closely that Ladylands was driven to the necessity of giving himself up to James Hamilton, the eldest son of Lord Claude, though not till, by some means which are unfortunately not recorded, he had provided for the safety of his confederates. Under the charge of Andrew Knox and Captain Hamilton he was led back to Edinburgh, and handed over to the Provost's keeping. On being examined he "confessed himselfe excommunicated and to be of the Catholique Romaine Church and not of the Church established in Scotlande, and he agreed to answer to any interrogatorye charginge him in cryme of treason wherein he pleaded his inocencye, but he derectlie refused to answere to anye question touchinge matter of religion, or as micht accuse or charge anye person other than himselfe onlye".

The object of the conspiracy in which Ladylands had been engaged soon became apparent. Towards the end of December, George Ker, brother to Mark Lord Newbottle, came down to Fairlie, intending to set sail from the "West Sea Bank". His presence in the neighbourhood and his frequent visits to the Island of Cumbrae having aroused suspicion, he was narrowly watched, and "his speeches taken heed to", with the result that, as Calderwood states it, "he was perceaved to be a Papist passing to Spaine, to traffique betwixt the King of Spaine and some Scottish noblemen". Andrew Knox, to whom the information was brought, lost no time in setting himself upon the track of the suspected conspirator. Accompanied by a number of Glasgow students, he proceeded to Fairlie, where he found, however, that Ker had already crossed over to the Cumbrae. Following him to the island, he succeeded in apprehending him just as he was ready to embark. On being searched, his coffers were found to contain "diverse letters and blankes directed from George Erle of Huntlie, Francis Erle of Erroll, and William Erle of Angus, the Lairds of Auchindoun and Fintrie, and other practisers, some in Latine, some in Frenche, together with their caschets and signets".[265]

There could be no reasonable doubt that Ladylands was connected with the plot, which, though treasonable as to the means to be employed, aimed at nothing more criminal, even on the showing of Calderwood, than the "procuring libertie of conscience". Fortunately for him, however, nothing was found in the intercepted letters or extorted from those of the conspirators who had been arrested that could be turned into legal evidence against him. Two months after his apprehension it was reported by the English agent in Edinburgh that "the arraignement of the Larde of Ladilands was differed in regarde that the cause and evidence against him were not rype and sufficient to proove him gilty of treason".[266] On Sunday, the 25th of March, 1593, he was "lett free out of the Tolbuith of Edinburgh, at the King's command, foure sureties being taikin for his re-entering in ward at Glasgow at the King's pleasure". It was at first intended that he should be kept in "straite warde", but, by the influence of the Duke of Athole, from whom he brought letters with him, he obtained the privileges of "free warde within the Castle". During his confinement he was visited by his captor, Andrew Knox, and it was reported that he had been "wonne, and was contented bothe to subscribe to the articles of religion, and also to discover manye practizes and practisers not yet revealed". The Paisley minister, however, had but little cause to congratulate himself on his theological triumph. As soon as Ladylands had succeeded, by his pretended conversion, in allaying his jailers' suspicions, and inducing them to relax their vigilance, he escaped out of the Castle and fled to the Isle of Bute, whence he subsequently made his way to the Continent.[267]

For the next four years both Ladylands and Andrew Knox disappear from contemporary records. But in the month of February, 1596, Robert Bowes, writing to England, informs Lord Burghley that the plotting Laird had returned to Scotland, and "was lurking about his own house and in parts near Glasgow". He was said to have offered "uppon twoe or three lynes of the King's hand to come and reveale to him great secrets". Though urged to give these "lynes", James refused to comply, but appeared willing "ether to send one of his owne servants to attache him or else to derect the Provost of Glasgow to inclose his house and take him". To those who knew how little the King sympathized with the coercive measures enforced by the Presbyterians against their Catholic fellow subjects, his sincerity was the subject of considerable doubt. The suspicion expressed by Bowes that the apprehension of Ladylands was not likely to be effected by his means appears to have been justified, for three months later, in May, 1597--it is well to remember that at this time the year began in March--the "buissy negociator with the King of Spayne and the Pope" was still at large, and "banded with some of the Montgomeries, Stewarts, Murrays, and others, beinge Papists".[268]

On this occasion the object of the conspirators was "to take and surpryse the island and house of Aylsaie, in the mouth of the Clyde, a place of good strength which mycht much annoye the west parts of Scotland, and to keipe the same for the benifyt of ther Catholique freinds, domesticall and forraigne".[269] To accomplish their purpose they were reported "to have prepared and rigged a shipp, furnished with armour, weapons, powder, lead, and other requesyts for warr". Still the King seemed disinclined to adopt stringent measures. But whilst he was hesitating Andrew Knox solved the difficulty by taking possession of Ailsa Craig, at the head of a small body of nineteen men, with whom he stationed himself on the solitary rock to await the course of events. Before long, Ladylands, ignorant of Knox's movements and wholly unconscious of the ambush laid for him, sailed to Ailsa with thirteen of his fellow conspirators, intending "to have fortefeit and victuallit the same for the ressett and comforte of the Spanishe armey, luiked for be him to have cum and arryvit". On reaching the spit of shingle on the east side, which affords the only landing-place, he found himself suddenly opposed by a band of determined men, who at once "forgadderit with him and his compliceis, tuke some of his associates and desireit himselfe to rander and be takin with thame, quha wer his awne freindis, meaning nawayis his hurte nor drawinge of his blude". Though taken at a disadvantage, the Laird was not of a temper to yield without a struggle; "withdrawing himself within the sey cant", he resolutely defended himself against his opponents till, having been forced to retreat step by step to the very edge of the cliff, he was thrust "backwart in the deip, drownit and perisheit in his awne wilfull and disperat resolution".

In the heat of the struggle no attention had been given to the mooring of the boat in which Ladylands and his accomplices had come across. Not till the skirmish had ceased was it discovered that it had drifted out to sea, bearing with it the Laird's "coffers" and the important documents that they were believed to contain. This untoward accident, however, delayed the clearing up of the plot for but a short time. A few days later the masterless craft was picked up off South Annan. In Ladylands' coffers were found, as had been expected, letters which revealed the whole extent and importance of the treasonable scheme in which he had been engaged.

It appeared "that the conspiracye to have been accomplished by the takinge and forcinge of Ailsa was devysed by the larde of Ladylands, Corronall (Colonel) Hakerson, and the Spanish Ambassador".

On the previous October the three conspirators had met at the town of Nantes, in France, for the purpose of considering the details of their bold undertaking of enlisting the men, and raising the funds necessary for carrying it out. In order to secure the co-operation of those who, had they known the size and position of Ailsa Craig, might have felt considerable doubt as to the advantages to be derived by obtaining possession of it, the rock "was termed the island of Guyanna, and given out as very fertile and commodious for fishinge, but inhabited by barbarous people, and ance possessed, not recoverable be noe enemy out of the hands of men of warr".

To meet the expenses of the enterprise "ther was contribution promised by sondry noblemen of Fraunce, and of Englande, and of Scotland". The agents to whom the task of levying the "contribution" was entrusted were Hakerson in France, Richard Skeldon in England, and in Scotland Ladylands himself. It was arranged that Ladylands should, in the first place, get possession of the island, and then send William Liddell to Spain "with message of their interpryse, and to crave mony and furnishing".

The papers also gave further details of the special objects which the conspirators had in view. In the first place, it was intended to "sett upp and manteyne ane publique masse in this Islande, quhilk should be patent (open) to all distressed papists, where fra so ever they should come". Next to this, there was to be "ane place of releife and refreshment to the Spanyart, or rather a porte to them, at ther arryvall in Ireland". Finally, it was a part of the plan to establish "ane storehouse to keip furnishing and all things profytable to the use of the Erle of Tyrone, with the quhilk Erle, Ladylands, by his commissioners, had been buissy sen his last coming to Scotland".

It may be incidentally mentioned that amongst those who lent their support to Barclay's wild scheme, there was one who possesses another and a better claim to be remembered. It was the author of _The Cherrie and the Slae_. In the Acts of the Privy Council[270] it is recorded that Alexander Montgomerie, brother of the Laird of Heslott (Hasilhead), having failed to appear to answer for being art and part with the late Hew Barclay of Ladylands in the treasonable enterprise for the taking of Hisha for the use of the Spanish army, was denounced as a rebel, on the 14th of July, 1597.

Even after the failure of the first part of the plot and the death of Ladylands, it was deemed advisable to provide against the possibility of further surprise on the part of "some practysers for Ireland whose eyes were espyed to be sett uppon the place". But, singular as it must appear, the Scottish Government, or rather the Scottish King, still remained inactive. It was through English influence that the necessary measures of safety were adopted. Bowes, the English agent, "spoke with and moved the Erle of Cassilis", obtaining from him a vague promise "to gyve regarde to yt". As this, however, only resulted in entrusting the custody of Ailsa to Thomas Hamilton, whom Bowes considered "not very fytt for the charge", recourse was again had to the indefatigable Andrew Knox. He readily undertook "both to awayte uppon the further progress of the surpryse, and also to prevent the interpryse in dewe tyme and sorte as before had been performed". It does not appear, however, that the Paisley minister had further occasion to sally forth hurriedly from his residence, at No. 25 in the High Street, and to display his energy for the protection of Ailsa. The whole plot had really collapsed with the death of the prime mover, the bold and unscrupulous Laird of Ladylands.

Not the least singular part of the whole episode is the treatment of Andrew Knox. Far from securing for him the favour of the Court, his "action against the papists and practysers for Spayne" brought upon him the ill will of some of the most influential nobles in the realm. It was officially reported by Bowes, who acknowledged that he himself had been "alwayes privye with him in these affayres", that he had "entred into dangerous feuds by his commendable behaviour", and that "his lyfe was gredely sought by many and strong persons". The agent's recommendation that he "should be tymelye and favorablie comforted" was doubtless acted upon, and it may be looked upon as the result of the interference of the English Government that the Privy Council, "by direction given by His Majesty in his letter from Striveling upon the 6th of June", issued a proclamation which recognized Knox's conduct "to have been loyal and good service done to His Majesty and the country", and warned all persons, under pain of treason, against "troubling" any of those concerned in the expedition which had resulted in the death of the Laird of Ladylands.[271]

With this one episode the history of Ailsa Craig seems to have begun and ended. There is no trace of its connection with the political events of any previous or subsequent period.

FOOTNOTES: for THE INVASION OF AILSA CRAIG

[264] _State Papers, Scotland: Elizabeth_, vol. xlix, No. 51. Robert Bowes to Lord Burghley.

[265] Calderwood, _Historie of the Kirk of Scotland_, vol. v, pp. 192, 193.

[266] _State Papers, Scotland: Elizabeth_, vol. l, No. 30. Bowes to Burghley.

[267] _State Papers, Scotland: Elizabeth_, vol. i, No. 62.

[268] _State Papers, Scotland: Elizabeth_, vol. lx, Nos. 34, 80.

[269] _Ibid_., vol. lxi, Nos. 12, i; 17; _Register of the Privy Council_, vol. v, pp. 393, 394.

[270] Vol. v, p. 402.

[271] _Register of the Privy Council_, vol. v, p. 394.

THE STORY OF A BALLAD--"KINMONT WILLIE"

The ballad of "Kinmont Willie", as to the genuineness of which we are not among those who entertain doubts that reflect on the good faith of Sir Walter Scott, is not only one of the most spirited to be found in all the Border minstrelsy, it is also noteworthy as being in the number of the comparatively few popular poems that have a real historical event as their foundation. And a further interest attaches to it from the circumstance that the incident which it sets forth was of sufficient importance to give rise to a diplomatic correspondence between the Ministers of James VI and those of Elizabeth, and, indeed, to be the subject of an indignant letter from the Queen herself. The actual facts of the capture and rescue of William Armstrong, commonly known as Kinmont Willie, are in the main such as they are related in the ballad.

In 1596, on one of those customary "days of truce" agreed upon by the officials on both sides of the Border for the purpose of discussing and, if it were possible, of settling in a friendly manner any quarrels that might have arisen between the turbulent inhabitants of the respective marches, Thomas Salkeld, the "fause Sakelde" of the ballad, as deputy for the English Warden, Lord Scroope, had met Robert Scott of Haning, the representative of Sir Walter Scott, "the Bauld Buccleuch", Keeper of Liddisdale. The conference had taken place at a spot where the Kershope, a small tributary of the Liddel, formed the boundary line between the two countries. Nothing untoward had happened. The two officials had parted on friendly terms, and the Scots Borderers, of whom Robert Scott's escort consisted, had set out for their respective homes. One of these happened to be William Armstrong of Kinmont. He was well known to the Englishmen as a "bauld reiver", against whom they had many a complaint of long standing.

It was well understood that the "days of truce" lasted until sunrise on the morning after the breaking up of the meeting, so that all who had been present at it might have ample time to perform the return journey homewards without being exposed to molestation. Trusting to this, Armstrong, whose way lay in the same direction as that of the English Borderers, rode on unconcernedly on his own side of the Liddel and in full sight of them. Their sense of honour was not proof against the temptation of availing themselves of so favourable an opportunity. Making it an excuse for their violation of Border law that at one point Armstrong was obliged to pass out of the territory included in Buccleuch jurisdiction, they crossed the stream, thus committing an act of invasion, fell upon him at such odds as made resistance vain, took him prisoner and carried him off to Carlisle, where he was lodged in the Castle. The indignation aroused by this unwarrantable breach of faith was all the greater from the fact that Willie was popular amongst his kinsmen and neighbours for the daring and resourcefulness which had often ensured the success of the raids on which they had sallied out together. Buccleuch protested against the violation of the truce and demanded Kinmont's liberation; but his remonstrances produced no result. Neither was the Scottish Government itself more successful with Scroope when the general outcry obliged it to interfere.

Buccleuch then resolved to take the law into his own hands. As a first step towards the execution of the bold plan which he had conceived, he got his signet ring conveyed to the prisoner. This he contrived to do through the agency of one of the Grames, who, though English Borderers themselves, appear, from Scroope's repeated complaints against them, to have been in league with the Scottish Warden. A horse race promoted by him afforded him an opportunity of communicating with Kinmont's kinsmen and friends without exciting suspicion. He had no difficulty in enlisting recruits, mainly from amongst the Scotts, the Elliots, the Bells, and, as a matter of course, the Armstrongs, including Willie's sons. Before Kinmont, whose capture had been effected on March 17, had been a month in Carlisle Castle, where, after promising that he would make no attempt at escape, he appears to have been treated with some consideration, everything was ready for a dash into England.

On the evening of April 13, a troop of horsemen numbering five hundred, according to Scroope's estimate of them, crossed the Border in a storm of wind and rain. They were led by Buccleuch, who, before passing into English territory, left one detachment under the Laird of Johnston, and another with the Goodman of Bonshawe, to lie in ambush close to the frontier line in order to check pursuit if, as might well happen, the raiders should return with the English at their heels. Those that rode on towards Carlisle were provided with gavelocks, crowbars, pickaxes, axes, and scaling ladders. They reached the Castle at dead of night, and, making for the postern, set about undermining it. The guards had either fallen asleep or got under cover to protect themselves from the violence of the weather; moreover, the howling of the storm covered the noise unavoidably made by the sappers, quietly as they tried to work, and nothing happened to give either Scroope or Salkeld, both of whom were within the walls, the least warning of what was going on. In a short time the Scots had penetrated into the courtyard. Buccleuch was the fifth to pass through the trench. When he had the rescuing party about him he encouraged them to "Stand to it", as he had vowed to God and his Prince to fetch Kinmont out of England dead or alive; and assured them that, when it was done, he would maintain his action "with fire and sword against all resisters". With this he led them to the room where Will Armstrong was confined. Here one of Scroope's servants, who had been stationed as a guard, had to be overpowered, and sustained some slight injuries. The door was broken open and Armstrong was carried off. As the rescuers were retiring they encountered two men of the outer watch. These were promptly prevented from giving the alarm, but escaped with their lives, Buccleuch having given strict orders that no unnecessary violence should be used and no wanton damage done, lest their enterprise should appear to have had other objects in view than the rescue for which it was solely planned. Then the whole party galloped back to Scotland with their prize.

Even in those days news of so startling an occurrence spread fast. Within a few weeks the daring exploit had aroused the keenest excitement in both North and South Britain. In Scotland Buccleuch's action "was greatly commended by the great people". In England there was a feeling of intense indignation at the "outrageous fact". Robert Bowes, the Ambassador at the Court of King James, gave expression to it at a Convention of the Estates. He had been commissioned to "aggravate the heinousness" of the aggression, and did so in a long oration, "concluding that peace could no longer continue betwixt the two realms unless Buccleuch was delivered into England, to be punished at the Queen's pleasure".[272] The Keeper of Liddisdale was present, and spoke in his own defence. He maintained that, in rescuing a Scottish subject who had been wrongfully captured, he had done nothing but what honour dictated and duty required. He declared, however, that he was willing to submit the case to Commissioners appointed by the English Queen on the one hand, and by the Scottish King on the other, and to abide by their decision. This suggestion met with the approval of the Estates, who accordingly proposed that, "conform to the ancient treaties of peace, and custom observed between the two realms, Scottish and English Commissioners should meet on the Borders to decide upon the said complaint".

The Estates had come to this decision on the 25th of May. A few days later, on the 4th of June, James himself wrote to Elizabeth in regard to the "late attempt of Buccleuch". He begged her to bear in mind that all the information she had so far received proceeded from her own officer who, as a direct party in the matter, might reasonably be suspected of partiality. And he urged this as a reason for her consenting to the appointment of a Commission, in accordance with the proposal made by Buccleuch and adopted by the Convention. Before the end of the same month, both the Privy Council of England and Queen Elizabeth had dispatched replies to Edinburgh. The former, after communicating her Majesty's dissatisfaction at what had taken place and at the turn which matters were taking, confined itself to the expression of a hope that the King, in his own princely judgment, would reverse the Act of his Council, and not show favour to a person so notoriously reported to be factious, seditious, and a favourer of the King's rebels.

The Queen's letter was far more uncompromising in its tone. It contained an emphatic refusal to entertain any thought of a Commission, and it prefaced this vigorously-worded decision with a rebuke such as might have been administered to a naughty child. She told James that she looked upon him as a rare example of a king seduced by evil information. Was it ever seen that a prince, from his cradle preserved from slaughter, upheld in Royal dignity, preserved from many treasons, maintained in all sorts of kindness, should remunerate with so hard measure such dear deservings, and hesitate to yield a just reply to a friend's lawful demand? Ought there to be any question as to whether a King should act rightfully by his equal, and should his Councillors be asked their pleasure as to what he might do? Had this occurred in the nonage of the Prince, it might have some colour; but in a "fatherage" it seemed strange, and, she dared say, was without example. However little regard her "dear Brother" might have for herself, yet she would grieve much to see him neglectful of his own dignity, as the English, whose good opinion she doubted not but he had in some esteem, would measure his love by his deeds, and not by his words on paper. In so far as she was concerned, she told him plainly that she considered herself as ill treated by her professed friend as she could be by her declared foe. Was any castle of hers to be assailed by a night-prowler and her ally not send the offender to his due punisher? Should a friend stick at a demand that he ought rather to anticipate? For other doubtful and litigious Border cases she was willing to appoint Commissioners, if she found it needful, but never in a matter of such villainous usage as this.[273] Nor was this the worst. James was further informed, and that not in a private letter, but through Bowes, that Elizabeth had resolved to stop his yearly gratuity if he did not satisfy her in the redress demanded against Buccleuch.

The correspondence of the time shows that of all who were variously affected by Buccleuch's raid, it was James who, all along, found himself in the most difficult and delicate position. Whilst willing to conciliate Elizabeth, he hesitated to condemn an action of which his subjects were proud as of a triumph over England. He now began to understand that he would have to yield to the imperious Queen. But he was still anxious to delay the inevitable surrender, knowing that amongst the people generally the feeling of opposition to the delivery of Buccleuch was as keen as ever. As a means of gaining time, he raised a new issue, by writing a strong letter of indignation at the Queen of England's threat to stay the payment of his annuity, and at her treatment of him as if he were her pensioner, whereas the money that he received was in return for concessions he had made. This, he thought, was a greater breach of the alliance between them than his not giving up Buccleuch; and to prove that he, for his part, had always been faithful to it, he recapitulated the various acts by which he had always shown his attachment to England.

This led to a prolongation of the correspondence and negotiations between the two countries; and matters dragged on in this way till the month of August, when Bowes was at length able to inform Lord Burghley that Buccleuch had been commanded to ward by the King, and that the place of his detention was St. Andrews. Recognizing this as a step in the right direction, Elizabeth wrote to James to express her satisfaction at his having done what beseemed him. At the same time she gave him to understand that she would not consider herself fairly dealt with until Buccleuch was delivered up to herself. This was again followed by a long exchange of communications, of which the tone, however, marked a gradual approach towards a settlement of the dispute. Before that was reached, James found an opportunity of retaliating in a characteristically petty manner. As Elizabeth insisted that Buccleuch should be delivered over to her for punishment because of his attack on Carlisle Castle, so he demanded that Edmund Spenser should be called to account for his reflections on the character of Mary Stuart. What we know about this new and singular development is contained in a dispatch from Bowes to Burghley. "The King," writes the English agent in Edinburgh, "has conceived great offence against Edmund Spenser, for publishing in print, in the second part of the _Faerie Queen_, chapter IX, some dishonourable effects, as the King deemeth, against himself and his mother deceased. I have satisfied the King about the privilege under which the book is published, yet he still desireth that Edmund Spenser, for this fault, may be duly tried and punished." It does not appear from anything to be found in the State Papers that this frivolous matter received serious attention on the part of Elizabeth, or was further insisted upon by James himself.[274]

As for the Border incident, after all these negotiations, enquiries, and recriminations, it was brought to a close by Buccleuch's surrendering himself into English custody at Berwick. His captivity lasted from October 6th, 1597, till March 21st following. On his release his ten-year-old child took his place as a hostage. It is noteworthy that the redoubtable Borderer not only ceased to give trouble, but even co-operated with the English Wardens in maintaining peace in the marches. There is said to be a tradition in the Buccleuch family that he was presented to Elizabeth, who admired him for his daring, in spite of the annoyance which it had caused her.

FOOTNOTES: for THE STORY OF A BALLAD--"KINMONT WILLIE"

[272] _Spottswood_, p. 415.

[273] _Register of the Privy Council_, vol. v, p. 761-2.

[274] _Register of the Privy Council_, pp. 323, 324.

A RAID ON THE WEE CUMBRAE

Just off the east side of that southern part of the Little Cumbrae which is included in the parish of West Kilbride, and on a low-lying turf and weed-covered rock, which, according to the ebb and the flood of the tide, is itself alternately a peninsula or an islet, there stands the ruin of an ancient castle. It is still a massive pile of masonry, the ground plan of which nearly forms a square, the difference between length and breadth being less than ten feet. Its distance from the Ayrshire coast and from Millport, on the Great Cumbrae, is about the same; and owing to the comparative inaccessibility which the two or three miles of sea give it, its interior is somewhat less dilapidated than is usually the case with similar relics of the past to be met with on the mainland. The partition walls of the several rooms have, it is true, almost disappeared, so that, for instance, the storey immediately above the vaults on the ground floor would appear to have consisted of one hall, if it were not for the fact that it contains two large chimneys. The ceilings are arched throughout, and it is doubtless due to this architectural peculiarity that each of them is still intact and supplies a solid floor for the storey immediately above. The narrow stone staircase is still practicable in its first flight, but fragmentary and rather unsafe beyond that. In its general appearance the Cumbrae castle is very similar to that of Portencross, over the water. It is probable that they both date from the same period, and are the work of the same builder. Both belonged to the Boyd family.

At the present day the Wee Cumbrae, as it is popularly called, is practically uninhabited. At its westermost point it has a lighthouse with the usual staff, and opposite the castle itself there are two houses serving, the one as a shooting-box, the other as a dwelling for the present tenant's gamekeeper. Closer examination of the island, particularly in winter, when the ground is free from bracken, reveals the remains of a dozen or more cottages, which tell of the existence in former days of a small colony on the less exposed half of it.

In the last year of the sixteenth century several of the families that composed the small population were of the name of Montgomery. The castle itself was inhabited by Robert Boyd of Badinhaith. He was a man of some initiative, and had formed a plan for the building of a harbour for "the commone welle and benefite of the haill liegeis of this realme haveing ony trade and handling in the west seyis". In the year 1599, as a first step towards the accomplishment of this praiseworthy scheme, he had purchased "eleven score of joists of oak of twenty-four foot long and a foot and a half of the square". The cost of each joist was £8, and the whole outlay amounted to £1760. Although this, being in Scots currency, represented less than £150 sterling, the sum in view of the value of money in those days was not inconsiderable.

Whatever may have been the relation in which Robert Boyd stood to the other inhabitants of the Little Cumbrae, their attitude towards him was distinctly hostile. There is good reason to believe that these immediate neighbours of his were not all respectable, peace-abiding folk, but that the island served as a convenient refuge for "rebels, fugitives, and ex-communicates". And it is quite intelligible that these outlaws did not approve of the laird's enterprise, one of the results of which would be to bring their sea-girt asylum into closer touch with the outer world and its justice. Whether for this reason or for the mere sake of plunder, it happened that one day, in 1599, some thirty men, with half a dozen of the Montgomerys as their leaders, came to the fortalice with hagbuts, pistols, culverins, swords, and other weapons, and violently, "with engyne of smythis", broke up the doors and gates, and, after having destroyed the glass windows, boards, and ironwork, "spuilzied" the furniture, together with the materials intended for the construction of the harbour. The perpetration of this outrage was followed by the forcible occupation of the castle by four of the Montgomerys, who fortified it "with men, ammunition, and armour", and "resetted within it not only the disorderit thevis and lymmaris of the Ilis, but also such other malefactors as, for eschewing punishment, resorted towards them".

The document[275] which contains the narrative of the "spulzie" on the Little Cumbrae is interesting, not only because of the glimpse which it affords of the state of the country three hundred years ago, but also, and even more, because of the minute inventory which it includes of the articles either "spulzied" or destroyed in the various parts and chambers of Boyd's castle, together with the value put upon each article or set of articles. In the first place the list indicates the internal structural arrangement of such a dwelling. It consisted of a hall, a kitchen, a chamber, a lower wester chamber and a high wester chamber, a low easter chamber, a wardrobe, a brew-house, and vaults. The contents of the several apartments do not point to luxurious appointment, even in what may be taken as a fair specimen of an ancient Scottish house of the larger and better sort.

The distinction between public rooms and bedrooms does not appear to have existed. There were two or three "stand beds", that is to say, beds with posts, as distinguished from beds that might be folded up, in each of the "chambers". Most of them were of "fir", or plain deal, and valued at £8 Scots, or 13s. 4d. sterling, each. The oak bedsteads, of which there were only two, were set down at 20 marks, or about 23s. sterling apiece. According to the same difference of wood, the "chalmer buirds", as distinct from the "fauldand buird", or dining-table of the kitchen, were worth £4 or £5 respectively. Three beds and a table constituted the sole furniture of the "low easter chalmer" and of the "high wester chalmer". The "lower wester chalmer" was the room which yielded most loot to the raiders. In a cupboard within it they found a "silver piece" of 17 oz. in weight and a cup with a silver foot weighing 7 oz., at £3, that is to say, 5s. an ounce, besides "contracts, obligations, evidents, and books, worth £2000." The same room contained a lockfast chest, which served as a repository for "a doublet and breiks of dun fustian cut out on tawny taffety, a pair of tawny worsted stockings, two linen shirts, two pairs of linen sheets, four pillowslips, two pairs of tablecloths, two broad cloths of linen of five ells in length, two broad towels, and two dozen serviettes".

In the kitchen the utensils were on a scale as moderate as that of the furniture through the whole house. The items which it supplies in the inventory are: Two brass pots, two pans, two spits, a pair of andirons, an iron ladle, a dozen and a half of plates, knives, forks, and spoons for six people, a dozen trenchers, and a folding table. The only engines of war contained in Boyd's fortalice consisted of two "cut-throat guns of iron". They were located in the hall. The whole damage done by the plunder of all the movables and the destruction of such fixtures as doors and windows is estimated at £4776, 10s. 6d. Scots, that is, well under £400 sterling. By no stretch of the imagination can the raid of the Little Cumbrae be considered an event of historical importance. It is rescued from insignificance, however, by virtue of the valuable data which it has been the indirect means of preserving for the information of posterity.

FOOTNOTES: for A RAID ON THE WEE CUMBRAE

[275] _Register of the Privy Council_, vol. vi, pp. 279-281.

RIOTOUS GLASGOW

In 1605 Glasgow could lay no claim to the position of second city of the kingdom that had virtually, though not yet legally, become United by reason of the accession of James VI of Scotland to the English throne. It was not in the first rank, even on its own side of the Tweed, and in a gracious and flattering reference to its condition and estate His Majesty could not go beyond the qualified statement that, "in quantitie and number of trafficquers and others inhabitants", it was inferior to few of the cities and burghs in his northern dominions.[276] There was, indeed, one matter with regard to which it stood on a lower municipal level than either Edinburgh or Perth, Stirling or Dundee. In the choice of its Provost and Magistrates it did not enjoy the full freedom that was the privilege of those more important centres of population.

Prior to the Reformation, and as late after it as the closing year of the sixteenth century, the nomination of the Provost and the selection of the Bailies lay with the Archbishops as temporal, no less than spiritual, superiors of Glasgow. In 1600, however, the King, by a charter dated November 17th, granted to Ludovic, Duke of Lennox, the castle of Glasgow and the heritable right of appointing the civic rulers.

On September 30th of the same year, Sir George Elphinstone of Blythswood appeared before the Town Council, and presented a letter from Duke Ludovic nominating him Provost for the ensuing year. He was also the bearer of an official communication from the King himself, whose friend and favourite he was, and who warmly recommended him for the dignity. The nomination of Sir George, a clever lawyer, who subsequently rose to the rank of Lord Justice-Clerk, appears to have been popular, and he was duly accepted.

With regard to the election of Bailies, the Council was less accommodating. The letter brought by Elphinstone directed that the leet from which a selection was to be made should be submitted, not to himself, but to the Sheriff, to whom he delegated his authority. Such a course was objected to as being both derogatory and contrary to use and wont; and the Council firmly refused to present the leet to any substitute, or to recognize any nomination but such as came from his Lordship's own mouth. In accordance with the resolution arrived at in vindication of their dignity, the Corporation sent Thomas Pettigrew, as its commissioner, to Brechin, where the Duke was staying at the time, and, through him, submitted a list of eight names from which Lennox was to select three.

Unprepared as was Duke Ludovic for such prompt and resolute action on the part of the Glasgow Municipality, he adopted the judicious course of yielding temporary acquiescence to its claims, and on October 7th, Pettigrew was able to report, as the successful result of his mission, that Robert Rowat, James Forett, and Alexander Baillie had been chosen to fill the vacant magisterial seats. Owing to a regrettable gap of nearly four years in the Burgh Records, it is impossible to ascertain what further steps were taken by either side during the period extending from October 27th, 1601, to June 13th, 1605. The only available information bearing on this point is to be gathered from the Register of the Privy Council of Scotland. From a statement to be found there, it appears that Lennox had not maintained his conciliatory attitude towards the Town Council, but that, persisting in his original course, he had devised a means by which the Stewarts of Minto had, under him, "the exercise of the officeis of the said town in their personis".[277]

By August 3rd, 1605, the Municipal Authorities had realized that a greater power than theirs was required to secure for them the free exercise of what they claimed to be rights and privileges sanctioned by the King. On that day a deputation, headed by Sir George Elphinstone and consisting of the Dean of Guild, of one of the Bailies, and of four Councillors, was appointed to go to Edinburgh to settle and end the matter by an appeal to the Privy Council. This further step having proved unavailing, the Corporation, on the 27th of the same month, "ernestlie requestit and desyrit" their Provost to undertake a journey to London, in order to invoke the intervention and aid of James himself. Thanks to Sir George's personal influence and to the favour in which he stood with his sovereign, as much, perhaps, as to the justice of his cause, Lennox was at length prevailed upon to grant the persistent petitioners "the full libertie, fredome, and priviledge of the electioun of thair Magistrattis", without, however, renouncing in any other respect his right of justiciary and bailliary of regality within and around the city.

Sir George Elphinstone's colleagues were not slow to give practical expression to the gratitude that they felt for his public-spirited conduct and to the value that they set on the success of his efforts on their behalf. On October 2nd, 1665, after he had been "removeit of Counsall", they all, with one voice, in respect of the singular care, great zeal and love had and borne by him to the weal and liberty of the Burgh, nominated, elected, and chose him for their Provost. On the same day and in the further exercise of the freedom which he had secured, a list of nine names, including those of three of the "auld Bailies", was submitted to the remainder of the Council, who, by plurality of votes, chose William Anderson, Mathew Turnbull, and Robert Rowat. In recognition of the honour conferred upon them, the new Provost and Magistrates renounced the right which the custom of the time appears to have given them, to the fines levied for certain offences.

Amongst the citizens of Glasgow there was a minority which, looking at the extension of municipal liberty from the point of view of personal interest, felt deeply aggrieved by the new system of magisterial election. It consisted of the members and friends of the house of Minto, a family which had for many generations possessed considerable local influence, and of which the head, Sir Mathew Stewart, had himself filled the position of Provost. It was plain to them, however, that as long as the Council remained united, resistance would be futile, and that their only hope of worsting their opponents lay in dividing them.

For the attainment of this object the means that suggested itself as most feasible was the formation of a faction amongst the craftsmen of the city, "for the most part rude and ignorant men", of whom plausible arguments might make blind and determined partisans. The deacons of some of the numerous crafts or incorporations were first approached. The Stewarts represented to them that the liberty newly acquired by the Council was "nothing else but a manifest thraldom and tyranny against the crafts, a dissolution of the estate of the town, and an heritable establishing of the offices and jurisdiction of the town in the persons of a small number". So widely and successfully did the agitators propagate their "subtile and fals informatioun" that in the end it was "embraced for a treuth be the haill ignorant multitude".

Encouraged by these results, Sir Mathew Stewart saw his way to give more definite and formal shape to his opposition. Shortly before the time when the Provost and his fellow Magistrates were to apply to Parliament for the ratification of their liberty and freedom of election he convoked a meeting, which was held at seven o'clock in the morning, in the house of John Ross, a Town Councillor whom he had won over to his side, and at which between forty and fifty prominent citizens were present. The malcontents drew up a petition against the ratification craved by the Town Council, and, after having appended their several signatures to it, entrusted it to John Ross, James Braidwood, deacon-general, and Ninian Anderson, deacon of the Cordwainers, to be presented to the Lords of the Articles, by whom its prayer was duly granted.

To protect themselves from the consequences of proceedings that might be made to appear factious and seditious, seeing that the meeting had taken place without the presence, knowledge, or consent of the Magistrates, the Stewarts procured from the Lords of Council and Session an exemption in favour of all who had subscribed the application.

Of the sequel there is only one detailed account. It is contained in the complaint subsequently brought before the Privy Council by the Provost and Magistrates, and embodying what is essentially the official view of the case. Whilst it would be unjustifiable to impugn the veracity of this document, there can be no doubt that it places facts in the light least favourable to the agitators; and that in the motives and intentions which it imputes to them it goes further than those facts seem to warrant. It sets forth that, the further to irritate and incense the common multitude against the Magistrates, and to make it appear that they had credit and power to overthrow these at their pleasure, Minto and his accomplices, accompanied by a crowd of some three or four score, all in arms, with targets, swords, and other invasive weapons, came in a very tumultuous and unseemly manner to the Market Cross, whilst the Magistrates were sitting in Council close by; and that, disdaining to ask for the key of the Cross, although it was lying in the Tolbooth ready to be delivered to them, they clambered in, and proclaimed their exemption, "quhilk in effect importit a liberty to thame to do quhat they pleasit, without controlment".

It is alleged that the object of this "tumultuous and barbarous" demonstration was to draw the Magistrates from the Council chamber, and to tempt them to find fault with the proceedings, which would have supplied a pretence for fastening a quarrel upon them and "persewing them of their liveis". If such a design really existed, it was frustrated by the conciliatory attitude assumed by the Provost and his colleagues. Seeing the wisdom of coming to terms with the malcontents, they made arrangements for a conference with the deacons, who, next to the Stewarts themselves, appear to have taken the most prominent part in the movement. The meeting was to take place on July 24th, 1606; and all the ministers in the city, together with the regents of the College, were summoned to attend it.

According to the official account, the Stewarts were apprehensive of the result of the appointed conference, and resolved "to procure some trouble and unquietness in the citie", for the purpose of preventing it from being held. Three of them, it is alleged--Sir Walter, John, and Alexander--knowing that Sir George Elphinstone had arranged to shoot off an archery match at the Castle butts, on the evening of July 23, lay in wait for him near the Drygate with a band of some forty men close at hand at the Wyndhead--all "bodin in feir of weir", that is, equipped for a warlike expedition, with steel bonnets, secret armour, plait sleeves, longstaffs, and other weapons. As the Provost and his friends, who were but five in number and bore no arms but their unbended bows, reached the Drygate, one of them, James Forrett, left the party for the purpose of fetching some arrows from his house. Before he could reach it, Sir Walter, uttering insulting language, attacked him with drawn sword. By this time Sir George had reached the Castle gate, but hearing the altercation, he turned back and endeavoured to pacify the assailant with "fair and gentle" words. "Sir," he said, "I pray you to go youre way; no man sal offend you." His request was unheeded; and then, by the authority of his office, as Provost of the city, he commanded Sir Walter, in His Majesty's name, to go his way.

At this moment the alleged accomplices made their appearance on the scene, and "concurring together, maist cruelli and feirslie set upoun Sir George, and be force and violence drave him and his company back to the Castell porte, quhair he was fred and relevit of the present danger". Thereupon the Stewarts and their party retired to the Wyndhead, where they remained, whilst James Braidwood, by their direction, ran down the High Street, crying: "Arme you! arme you! They are yokit!" This brought up a reinforcement of some two score "airmed men of the seditious faction", headed by Sir Mathew Stewart. With united forces and "with grite furie", the rioters made an onset on the Castle gate, where the Provost was still in shelter. They were checked by the Earl of Wigtown, the Master of Montrose, and the Laird of Kilsyth, three of His Majesty's Privy Councillors, who happened to be at hand.

Being unable to get at Sir George with their longstaffs and weapons, they spitefully threw a volley of stones at him, then rushed tumultuously and apparently aimlessly, "doun the gait to the Barras yet, far beneth the Croce". The tumult, however, was not yet over. Once again the crowd made for the Castle gate, swollen by the accession of some 300 of the "rascall multitude", whom the prospect of plunder had attracted, and who, as they trooped on, indicated their intentions by calling out to each other, "I sall have this buith and thou sall have that buith". Before their arrival the Provost had been removed to the shelter of the Earl of Wigtown's mansion. An attempt was made to storm it; but the Privy Councillors again intervened, and succeeded in dispersing the rioters.

The Privy Councillors, to whose opportune intervention the quelling of the disturbance was mainly due, at once took vigorous measures to prevent the recurrence of outbreaks. The Lairds of Minto were confined by them to the Castle of Dumbarton, whilst Sir George Elphinstone and James Forrett were interned in that of Glasgow. On August 9th, the ward was changed in both cases to the town of Stirling, where the several parties were bound to remain under caution in sums ranging from 5000 merks to £5000, to keep the king's peace. Of the other persons implicated, some were charged to enter ward in Perth, others in Dundee. The 28th of the same month was appointed for the meeting of the Council in Stirling, "to tak tryell in this commotion of Glasgow". The venue was, however, subsequently changed owing to the breaking out of the plague.

It happened that a fortnight before the Minto riots, on July 9th, 1606, Parliament had passed an "Act for Staying of Unlawful Conventions within Burgh". The Glasgow disturbance was the first occurrence that called for the application of this Act. It was embodied in a "proclamation about Glasgow", issued by the Privy Council on July 31st. The preamble referred to the many good Acts of Parliament made by the king and his predecessors, with regard to the modest, good, and peaceable behaviour of the inhabitants within burgh, and to the staying of all tumults, unlawful meetings and convocations, "quhairby it is expressly prohibite and forbidden that all manner of persons within burgh, of quhatsumever rank, qualitie, or condition thai be of, presume or take upon hand, under quhatsumever cullor or pretext, to convein or assemble thaimselffis upon any occasion, except thai make due intimation of the lawfull causes of thair meittings to the Provost and Baillies of the burgh, and obtain thair licence thairto, and that nothing salbe done be thaim in thair saids meittings quhilk may tend to the derogation or violation of the Acts of Parliament, lawis and constitutions made for the wele and quietness of the said burghs"; and whereby also, "the saids unlawfull meittings, and the persons present thereat, are by the saids Acts of Parliament declairit to be factious and seditious; and all thair proceidings thairin to be null and of non availl, and the saids persons ordained to be punished in thair bodies and gear with all rigour". This was followed by a narrative of the recent disturbance between the citizens and the Magistrates--"A thing very undecent and unseamlie and without ony preceiding example in ony burgh within this kingdome". Then came instructions to the officers of arms to pass to the Mercat Cross of Glasgow and there, by open proclamation, "to command and charge the haill inhabitants of the said citie to lay asyde thair armour immediatelie after the publication heirof, conteyne thaimselfis in quietness, and behave them as modest, quiet, and peaceable citizens, forbearing to convocat or assemble upon ony occasion thaimselfis togidder fra this tyme furth, under quhatsumever cullor or pretext, without the knowledge, consent, and licence of the saids Magistrates, nor yit to do, practize nor attempt anything hurtfull or prejudiciall to the saids Acts of Parliament, lawis and constitutions of the said citie: certifying thaim that sall do in the contrair, that thai salbe repute, haldin, esteimit, perseuit and punisht as factious and seditious persons, perturbers of the peace and quiet of the said citie, with all rigour and extreamitie, conforme to his Hienes laws and Acts of Parliament made thairanent".

Complaints had been laid before the Privy Council, on the one side by the Provost and Magistrates of the City of Glasgow against the Stewarts and their abettors, on the other by Sir Walter Stewart of Arthurlie against Sir George Elphinstone and the friends who accompanied him on the eventful evening of July 23rd. Both cases were heard in Edinburgh on August 27th, 1606. With respect to that in which the opponents of the Corporation were the defenders, it was declared that those persons had committed a "verie grite insolence and ryot". For this they were condemned to be warded in the burgh of Linlithgow till His Majesty's will was made known concerning them. At the same time the Lords "assoilzed simpliciter" the Lairds of Minto, elder and younger, and all the other defenders, from forethought felony intended against the pursuers, and from the charge of "thair lying at await" for the Provost at the Wyndhead of the city, the pursuers having failed to prove that part of their complaint. On similar grounds, decree of absolvitor was pronounced in favour of Sir George Elphinstone and his fellow defenders in the suit brought against them at the instance of Sir Walter Stewart.

The King's pleasure was made known to his Privy Council in a letter dated from Hampton Court on October 1st, 1606. After expressing his astonishment that the information communicated to him was so scant as to render it impossible for him to "mak ony distinctioun of offendouris in that ryotte, that, according to the difference of thair faultis, directioun micht haif bene gevin for inflicting upoun several personis the moir mylde and moir hard punishment", His Majesty directed that the meaner offenders should be released, after being bound in "greate pecunnial sowmes for their due obedience to the Magistrates", but that the Lairds of Minto, elder and younger, should both be "fynned in great sowmes", and retained in ward until these were paid.

Such is the information to be gathered concerning an incident which is of sufficient importance in itself to be recorded with greater detail than is given in the local histories written before the publication of the _Register of the Privy Council_. Another circumstance that lends interest to the happily unique collision between the municipal authorities and the citizens, is the coincidence that it was the first occasion for the application of an Act to which, exactly three hundred years later, the Magistrates of Glasgow found it expedient to appeal for the staying of such "unlawfull conventions within burgh" as the mustering and parading of street bands.

FOOTNOTES: for RIOTOUS GLASGOW

[276] _Register of the Privy Council_, vol. vii, p. 141.

[277] The official records bearing on "this commotioun of Glasgow" are to be found in the _Register of the Privy Council_, pp. 230-1, 233, 235, 240-7, 500, 501-2.

THE OLD SCOTTISH ARMY

One of the earliest, if indeed it be not actually the most ancient of extant enactments for the organization of the national forces of Scotland, is a Latin document drawn up in the form and style of a proclamation and purporting to be based on "the Book of Wyntoun laws". It is undated, but this reference to Edward I's Statute of Winchester shows it to have been subsequent to the year 1285. This Scottish adaptation of the English system required every man between sixteen and sixty years of age to be provided with defensive and offensive armour in proportion to the quantity of lands and chattels which he possessed. The owner of chattels to the value of 40 marks was to have a horse; an habergeon, or sleeveless coat of mail; a chaplet, that is to say, an iron skull-cap without vizor; a sword, and "a knife called dagger". The equipment of such as held land worth 40s. or upwards, but less than 100s., was to consist of a bow and arrows, a dagger, and a knife; and, in their case, the absence of defensive armour suggests that they were intended as light infantry. The lesser people, with an income under 40s. were expected to have a hand-axe, bow and arrows. All others, whose means allowed of it, were to be armed with a bow and arrows if they dwelt outside forest lands, or a bow and "pyles" if within them. These pyles being square-headed quarrels or bolts, it may be supposed that the use of them was prescribed because they were looked upon as less suitable for the purposes of poaching. The same ordinance also enjoined that there should be two wapenshaws or inspections every year.[278]

Earlier, though more incidental indication of a system of military service, is to be found, however, in an enactment which is ascribed to William the Lion, who began his reign in 1165, and which set forth that if a man borrowed a horse to join the King's army and the horse were challenged as stolen, he was to be allowed respite until his return to the county within which he alleged that the horse had been lent him. And, rather more than half a century later, in 1220, under Alexander II, further evidence of military obligation is supplied by a statute fixing the fines to be imposed on men of various ranks for remaining away from the King's host in Inverness. A thane was to forfeit six cows and a heifer; an "ochtyern", which is interpreted as meaning "one equal in rank to a thane's son", was liable to be mulcted in the amount of fifteen sheep and 6s., and a yeoman in that of a cow and a sheep.

In 1318, under Robert Bruce, it was ordained that, in time of war, every layman in the realm who had £10 in goods, should have for his body, in the defence of the country, a sufficient acton--a kind of padded and quilted coat, which protected not only the breast but the lower part of the body also; a bascinet or light unvizored helmet; and gloves of plate, with a spear and a sword. The acton and bascinet might, however, be replaced by an habergeon and "a hat of iron". Whoever failed to comply with the requirements of the statute was to forfeit all his goods, of which one-half was to go to his immediate superior, the laird on whose lands he dwelt, and the other half to the King. It was also decreed that every man having in goods the value of a cow should have a stout spear or a serviceable bow, with a sheaf of twenty-four arrows. In the same year another Act ordained that men on their way to join the army should pay for what they took, but enjoined, at the same time, that they should be supplied at moderate rates.

When James I returned from his captivity in England, he lost no time in putting into practice the lesson which he had learnt there as to the efficiency of the bow. Amongst the enactments of his first Parliament there was one which ordained that every male person should, from his twelfth year, busk himself to be an archer; that, near every parish church, "bow marks should be made, at which, on holidays, men might come and shoot, at least thrice about", and have usage of archery; and that whoever did not use the said archery, the laird of the land or the sheriff should raise of him a wedder.[279] This was in 1424. In the same year it was also enacted that, in every sheriffdom, four musters should be held every year for the inspection of arms.[280]

Following closely upon this, there were issued supplementary instructions of a somewhat more comprehensive nature than hitherto. Gentlemen having £10 worth of land, or more, were to provide themselves with a bascinet with whole legharness, that is to say, complete coverings which came up to the hips, and with spear, sword, and dagger. Gentlemen owning less land, or no land at all, were to be accoutred "at their goodly power", subject to the oversight and discretion of the sheriff. Honest yeomen, "having sufficient power", and willing to serve as men-at-arms, were to be "harnessed sufficiently" to the satisfaction of the same official; whilst all other yeomen in the realm, within the statutory limits of age, that is, between sixteen and sixty, were to be "sufficiently bowit and schaffit", or, in other words, adequately equipped with a good bow and a suitable supply of arrows, and were also to have a sword, buckler, and knife. All burgesses and indwellers in the burghs of the realm were to be similarly armed. Failure to attend the four wapenshaws involved fines ranging from 40s. to £10, according to the number of absences, in the case of a gentleman; and from 10s. to 40s. in that of a bowman.[281]

Four years later, in 1429, "by the advice of the whole Parliament", further modifications were made, both in the outfit and in the valuation according to which it was regulated. Every man who disposed of a yearly rent of £20, or who possessed £100 in movable goods, was required to be well horsed and "haill enarmyt", which meant completely armed from head to foot, as a gentleman ought to be. The man of lower standing, with no more than £10 of rent, or £50 of movable goods, was to provide himself with a gorget--a piece of armour which protected the throat and upper part of the chest; with rearbraces and vambraces, as the coverings for the upper arm and the forearm were respectively called; with gloves of plate, breastplate, leg-splints, and knee-pieces, "at the least, or better, if he liked". The yeomen were divided into three classes, of which the highest, consisting of those whose property amounted to £20 in goods, was to be equipped with a good "doublet of fence", an iron hat, bow and sheaf of arrows, sword, buckler, and knife. Yeomen possessing no more than £10 in goods formed the second class. They were required to have a bow and arrows, sword, buckler, and knife; but though no defensive armour was mentioned in their case, it may be assumed that they were not expected to be less protected than the yeoman of the third class, who was no archer and could not deal with a bow, but for whom a good "suir" hat and a "doublet of fence" were prescribed, in addition to a sword, a buckler, and a good axe, or else a staff with a sharp iron point. Every citizen having £50 in goods was placed on the same level as a gentleman, and was required to be armed in the same manner as one. The burgess of lower degree, whose property was not valued at more than £20, was to provide a "suir" hat and doublet, an habergeon, sword, and buckler; a bow with the necessary sheaf of arrows; and a knife. Barons and bailies were required to see that these enactments were duly complied with in their respective districts, under certain pains and penalties which the sheriff was empowered to impose.

During the fifteenth and the sixteenth century there were several other Acts of Parliament and of the Privy Council dealing with wapenshaws. It may be gathered from the preambles to some of them that these periodical inspections were occasionally discontinued for years together; whilst the repeated injunctions to the various local authorities and officials to use their utmost diligence in enforcing the law afford proof that the burden of military service was irksome to those on whom it fell. But the special interest of those enactments lies in the information which they supply both as to the variations in the assessment on which that service was based and as to the changes which took place in the outfit of the several classes of fighting men.

In 1456 it was made obligatory on every man whose goods amounted to 20 marks to be provided at least with a jack having sleeves to the hands, or, failing that, with a pair of "splints" encasing the arms; with a sallet--a light helmet, of which the characteristic feature was a projection behind--or with a spiked hat; and with a sword, buckler, and bow together with a sheaf of arrows. Such as could not shoot were to be armed with an axe, and with a targe either of leather or of deal, with two bands on the back.[282] In the following year steps were taken to organize a system of military training. As a preliminary measure, golf and football were to be "utterly cried down". "Bow marks" were to be set up. The smaller parishes were not required to have more than a pair of these butts; but, in the larger, according to their size, there were to be three, four, and even five. All the male inhabitants, from twelve to fifty years of age, were expected to practise every Sunday, and to shoot at least six shots. Defaulters were liable to a fine of not less than 2d.; and the money thus raised was to be given to those who were more regular in their attendance "to drink". This archery practice was to be kept up from Easter to Allhallowmas. As a necessary supplement to these ordinances, every county town was to have a bowyer and a fletcher, otherwise a maker of bows and a maker of arrows, and was to furnish them "with stuff and graith that they might serve the country with".[283] But as Scotland was not self-sufficing in the matter of either weapons or accoutrements, there was a further enactment which required all merchants of the realm passing over the sea for merchandise to bring home at each voyage as they might "goodly thole" harness and armours, spear-shafts and bow staves "after the quantity of their merchandise".

No further Act of Parliament concerning the equipment of the Scots fighting men was passed till 1471. In that year it was found necessary to fix the length of the spear, or rather, to forbid either the importation or the making of any that fell short of the six ells that had always constituted the regulation size. For those yeomen who could not handle the bow, the substitution of a good axe and a targe of leather was authorized, as it had been in 1456. With regard to the latter, a suggestive standard of toughness and strength was indicated. It was to be sufficiently stout "to resist the shot of England". And a characteristic remark concerning it was, that it would entail "no cost but the value of a hide".[284]

There was practically no change in arms and accoutrement during the fifteenth century; and an Act passed in 1491 is almost verbally identical with that of 1425. More than forty years were yet to elapse before James V, realizing the advantage which other nations had secured for themselves by the adoption of "small artillery", and the consequent necessity of providing himself with similar "instruments of war and battle", caused an Act to be passed with a view to bringing Scotland's armament abreast of that "commonly used in all countries both by sea and land". This was in 1535.[285]

Hand-guns, or hand-cannon as they were called, had been introduced into England in the year 1471, when Edward IV, landing at Ravenspur, in Yorkshire, brought with him, amongst other forces, three hundred Flemings armed with those new weapons. They are also said to have been used at the siege of Berwick in 1521. These portable firearms soon got to be known under the names of culverins and hagbuts. The culverin was originally a small tube of half or three-quarters of an inch internal diameter, fixed to a straight piece of wood or welded to an iron handle. The smallest were about four feet long and weighed some fifteen pounds, and the management of them was as complicated as the weapons themselves were unwieldy. The culveriner had, in addition to his cumbrous piece, "his coarse powder, for loading, in a flask; his fine powder, for priming, in a touch-box; his bullets in a leathern bag, with strings to draw to get at them; whilst in his hand were his musket rest and his burning match". The hagbut was a smaller and improved culverin. At their first introduction into Scotland these firearms appear to have been used mainly for purposes of sport; but it is suggestive of a lack of familiarity with them to find James V paying 40s. to "Walter Cunynghame's wife in Stirling" for a cow which he had slain with a culverin.

By the Act of 1535, which was repeated in 1540, it was ordained that every landed man should have a hagbut of cast-iron, called "hagbut of crochert", together with the mould, bullets, and "pelloks" of lead or iron, and with the powder convenient thereto for every £100 of land that he owned. He that had but 100 marks of land was to supply two culverins; whilst only one was required of the smaller landowner whose valuation did not exceed £40. These pieces were to be furnished with all the necessary accessories. Those who supplied the weapons were also called upon to provide men, not only to fire them, but also to teach others to do so. Neither the clergy nor even women were exempted from the general obligation; and the fine to be imposed on all who neglected to comply with the requirements of the Act was fixed at twice the price that would buy "each piece of the said artillery". As to the burghs, a commission was to be appointed for the purpose of deciding in what proportion each of them was to contribute. And, as a corollary to this enactment, it was further ordained that, because neither artillery nor harness could be furnished nor made ready unless the same were imported into the country, every merchant sailing forth of the realm or exporting goods amounting to a last, that is to twelve tons, should bring home two hagbuts or more, in proportion to the quantity of merchandise shipped, with powder and moulds, or else as much metal as would make the hagbuts.

From another Act passed in the same year it appears to have been anticipated that, in spite of these ordinances, the number of men that could be armed with hand-guns would be but slight as compared with those who would still have to retain the older weapons, for no alteration was prescribed in the matter of defensive armour. This statute is noteworthy, however, by reason of a paragraph bearing the heading, "That the army of Scotland be unhorsed, except great Barons".[286] It was introduced by a reference to the great hurt, scaith, and damage done by the coming, in multitude, of horsemen, through the destruction of cornfields and meadows and the harrying of poor folk, and also to the great impediment made by them in the host, where all men had to fight on foot. It then went on to ordain that no manner of men should have horses with them, but should be ready to march on foot from the first meeting-place it might please the King to assign. For the journey to that meeting-place, however, the use of palfreys was authorized. And if any man came on horseback, or brought horses with him, he was to send them home again immediately, but only with a riding-boy, and not with anyone able to bear arms. The matter was considered to be of such importance that no less a penalty than death was to be imposed for disobedience of the order. A proviso was, however, added, excepting earls, lords, barons, and great landed men from the operation of the Act.

There is a further clause to which also special interest attaches from the fact that it supplies the first evidence to be met with in Parliamentary records of an attempt at organizing a system of military drill. It ordained that a board consisting of the local authorities, the most able persons in the shire, and the commissioners appointed by the King, should, in every parish, choose a suitable man for each company levied within it, and should assign to him the duties of Captain. It was to be his special office to teach the men to march together and to bear their weapons, so that they might be "the more expert to put themselves in order hastily and keep the same in time of need". The companies were to muster for drill before noon on at least two of the most suitable holidays during each of the three summer months, and as often as could be conveniently arranged for during the other nine.

Such efforts were well meant; but perseverance, the first of the conditions necessary to ensure their success, appears to have been wanting. In 1546, a special wapenshaw was ordered to be held on Low Sunday, and the reason given for this step was, that the lieges were out of use of armour and weapons because such inspections had been neglected.[287] The accoutrements mentioned as requiring to be produced on this occasion were practically the same as formerly. In so far as evidence can be found in Acts of either Parliament or Privy Council, this was one of the last occasions on which specific mention was made of the armour and weapons to be borne by the respective classes of fighting men. In the closing years of the sixteenth century, however, the periodical complaint of laxity in the performance of military duties in time of peace again appears in an Act which, besides appointing a general wapenshaw to be held on the 1st of May, 1599, specifies the arms with which persons of various ranks were to be furnished, and thus affords material for an estimate of the change which had taken place in the equipment of the Scots forces, as well as on the obligations which military service now entailed. Earls, lords, barons, and gentlemen were to be armed with corslet of proof, headpiece, vambraces, teslets or coverings for the thighs, and a Spanish pike. In addition to this, every earl was to have twenty stands of similar armour for his household; every lord, ten; and every baron, one, for every 15 chalders of corn. Every baron and gentleman whose living did not depend upon "victual"[288] was to provide a complete stand for every 1000 marks of his yearly rent; every gentleman worth 300 marks in yearly rent was to be furnished with a light corslet and pike, or else with a musket, together with rest and bandoleer, and a headpiece. The regulation was to extend to the burghs; and the local authorities were to see that every burgess worth £500 of free gear should have a light corslet, a pike and halbard, or a two-handed sword, or else a musket, with its accessories, and a headpiece. But they were also to arrange in such a way that, for every light corslet and pike within the burgh, there should be two muskets. The penalties with which defaulters were threatened afford evidence that, although the country was still far from rich, it had made considerable progress since the days when fines were levied in kind. They were graded as follows: Every earl, 2000 marks; every lord, 1000 marks; every baron, for every 15 chalders of victual that he could spend, 100 marks; and every other person of the rank and substance indicated, £40.

It was one thing to require all ranks, degrees, and qualities to provide themselves with arms on this liberal scale, but it was another to put it into the power even of the most willing, to comply with the order. As a subsequent Act frankly admitted, there was "no such quantity of armour made within the realm as anywise might furnish the lieges thereof", and there consequently arose "a great necessity of bringing of the same home, forth of other countries". It was Sir Michael Balfour of Burleigh who, "not upon any respect of gain and profit that he might reap thereby, but upon the earnest affection and great regard he had to his Majesty's service and to the benefit of the realm", suggested a way out of the difficulty. He undertook to bring home 10,000 stands of armour, of which 2000 were to be for horsemen--figures which, in default of more precise data, are of some assistance towards forming an estimate of the military strength of the country.[289]

Sir Michael Balfour's offer was accepted; and the conditions of the contract duly fixed. The outfit for horsemen was to be complete in all pieces, and was to be supplied in two qualities: lance and sword proof, and hagbut proof. The former was to cost £50, and the latter £10 more. A complete suit of armour for a footman was to be charged £18, and was to be of one quality only--lance and sword proof. The price of a hagbut, with flask or bandoleer, was set at £6, 13s. 4d.

From the long list of defaulters that might be made up from the records of the Privy Council, and in which the names of all sorts and conditions of the lieges, of earls and of yeomen alike, would figure side by side, as well as from the legal proceedings which were taken by Sir Michael Balfour, on the one hand, and, on the other, by those who, on various grounds, claimed to be exempted from the operation of the Act, it appears that there was but little military enthusiasm in the country at this time. And this is borne out by an Act of Privy Council passed in July, 1607. It set forth that, notwithstanding the Act of 1599 for general arming and wapenshawing, there had been no inspection within the kingdom for several years past, and that the "lovable custom, which of old was very precisely kept and was very necessary and expedient for the good of the kingdom", had fallen into desuetude by reason of the negligence of the sheriffs and other officials; and it required these "to charge all and sundry, by open proclamation at the market crosses of the head burghs, to give and make their musters and wapenshawing" on the 4th of the following month. A few days later, however, the order was prorogated, for no more urgent reason than the meeting of Parliament; and with that, the periodical inspection of arms appears to have been finally abandoned for the remainder of the reign of James VI, who, by this time, had become James I of England also, a circumstance which goes far to explain the general indifference on the subject.

The first and main object that was always kept in view, and towards which Scotland's military dispositions were directed, was the protection of the country against the attacks of the "old enemy", as England was repeatedly styled. In more than one of the ordinances it was expressly set forth, that all manner of men were to hold themselves in readiness "to come to the Border for the defence of the land when any wittering came of the incoming of a great English host". And if the ever-present danger assumed more definite form and an invasion was actually expected, letters were sent throughout the country, charging all the lieges to be prepared to take the field in all possible haste, well equipped and duly supplied with provisions for a fixed number of days, usually forty, as soon as they were summoned. Warning of the approach of an invading army was signalled round the country by means of bale-fires which were lighted on certain specified hills.

For the purpose of defraying the expenses entailed by a campaign, recourse was had to extraordinary taxation. In 1550, for instance, the Privy Council ordained that "for resisting of our auld ynemyis of Ingland, the defence of the West Borders, and the repairing of a fort of strength in the town of Annan, the sum of £4000 should be raised and uplifted of the prelates and clergy of the realm. If the amount were "thankfullie payit and debursit", exemption from further taxation for the next year was promised.

To meet the requirements of the transport service, certain districts were laid under requisition. Thus, for the same campaign, the sheriffs of Edinburgh principal, Edinburgh lying within the constabulary of Haddington, Selkirk, and Lauderdale, were called upon to assist and concur with the Lairds of Lethington, Whittingham, Elphinstone, Trabroun, and Wauchton, in devising measures for furnishing the oxen and pioneers required for the forthbringing of the munition and artillery to the host and army which was to assemble in Edinburgh.

It was not solely for the defence of their own country that Scotsmen were obliged to bear arms. Occasion might arise when, in conformity with the "old leagues, bands, amity and alliance" which were supposed to have been entered upon by King Achaus and the Emperor Charlemagne, and to have been renewed and confirmed by every king and prince since that time, Scotland was obliged to furnish a contingent for the support of the Most Christian King. Such was the case in 1552. In the month of November of that year, the Regent Arran and the Lords of the Secret Council ordained that every 40-mark land, whether it were royal, temporal, or spiritual, should supply "one able, sufficient footman, well furnished, clad in new hose and a new doublet of canvas at the least, with a jack of plate, steel bonnet, splint sleeves of mail or plate, with a spear of six ells long or thereby". Every burgh within the realm was to provide a company consisting of 300 men, who were, as far as possible, to be hagbutters, furnished with powder flask, morsing horn, and all other gear belonging thereto. Two further companies of footmen were likewise to be raised in the highland parts of the realm, within the bounds of Lord Huntly's lieutenancy. Horsemen to the number of 400, each having "ane dowbill horse", were to be supplied by the bishops, abbots, priors, and prelates, earls, lords, and barons of the Borders and Lowlands. Gilbert, Earl of Cassillis, was appointed Lieutenant-General of the army, and Patrick, Lord Ruthven, Colonel of the footmen. The subordinate officers numbered fifty-five. The expense of the expedition was to be borne by the King of France.[290]

It was not only when Scotland was engaged in actual warfare, either on her own account or as the ally of France, that she required to call out her fighting men. The state of the country was such that the "fencibles" of some district might, at any moment, be required to take the field. Within less than a decade--between 1569 and 1578--there were at least twelve local levies. The first and five others of them, that is to say, a full half of the whole number, were raised for purposes similar to those indicated by an Act of Privy Council, in September, 1569, "to pass forthward for pursuit and invasion of the thieves, traitors, and rebellious subjects, inhabitants of the bounds of the Middle and West Wardencies". For such an expedition as that, there were called out "all and sundry his Majesty's lieges betwixt 40 and 16 years, and other fencible persons" dwelling in 12 sheriffdoms, 2 stewartries, and 3 bailliries. And they were required to assemble, not only "weill bodin in feir of weir"--the current phrase for complete fighting equipment--but also to bring with them twenty days' victuals and provisions, and to provide themselves with tents to lie in the fields.

As it was impossible for every man to carry with him twenty days' provisions otherwise than in the shape of money wherewith to buy them, a commissariat of some kind became a matter of necessity. To provide it, the inhabitants of some town might be required, as was the case with those of Glasgow, in 1572, "to follow the army where it shall repair, with bread, ale, and all other kinds of vivers for men and horse, which shall be bought from them with ready money and thankful payment". If circumstances made it more convenient, a number of burghs, towns, and other places where "hostelry was used" were informed beforehand, by public proclamation, that they would have to "prepare and have in readiness, baked bread, brewed ale, wine, and all other manner of horse meat and men's meat, and address them to transport and carry the same, by land or sea, to the camp, where it shall happen to be, there to be sold upon sufficient and good prices". If, as might be the case in the "countries most ewest of the Borders", lochs or rivers should have to be crossed or otherwise utilized for the purpose of the expedition, commandment and direction was given to all and sundry owners, masters, and skippers of ships, barks, "birlingis", boats, and other vessels meet for ferrying, to have their craft prepared and in full readiness to receive, carry, and transport men, munition, horses, victuals, or other warlike provisions to such place as should be specially appointed. For disobedience to any of the orders issued for the purpose of levying an expeditionary force or of furthering its movements and operations, the penalty to be imposed was always the same, "forfeiture of life, lands, and goods".

The last phase in the development of the old Scots army began at the death of James VI. Shortly after the accession of his successor, the Estates issued a proclamation which had for its object the revival of "that lovable custom of wapenshawings" which "the laziness of the people themselves", but "specially the sloth and careless negligence" of the magistrates whose office it was to make arrangements for those inspections, had allowed to lapse. And the reason given for this renewal of interest in the ancient institution was contained in a reference to the "universal combustion and bruittis, and rumours of foreign preparation throughout Christendom". But nothing more practical was yet to come of it than an order for the holding of a muster. Nearly twenty years were to elapse before the same Estates were moved to give "their most serious consideration" to the reorganization of the national forces. This had become necessary by reason of "the great and imminent danger of the true Protestant religion and of the peace of the kingdom from the treacherous and bloodie plots, conspiracies, attempts, and practices of papists, prelates, malignants, and their adherents". In order to put the kingdom, with all possible speed, in a posture of defence, order was given that all fencible persons within sixty and sixteen years of age, should provide themselves with forty days' provisions of all sorts, in the most substantious manner, for horse and foot, with tents and all other furnishing requisite; that horsemen should be armed with pistols, broadswords, and steel caps; that where those arms could not be had, jacks or secrets, lances, and steel bonnets, and swords should be substituted for them. Footmen were to be armed with musket and sword, or pike and sword; but, failing these, they were to be furnished with halbards, Lochaber axes, or Jedburgh staffs, and swords. Colonels of horse and foot, and Committees of War were appointed in each sheriffdom, and were enjoined to form "their whole fencible persons into regiments, foot companies, and horse troops". The men were to be "drilled and exercised in managing their arms--every regiment once in the month, every company and troop once in the week". The captains of each company were to be provided with colours and drums, and the "rootmasters", or captains of horse, with trumpets and cornets. For the purpose of enforcing this Act, another was passed in the following year, again requiring all to arm, under a penalty of £20 to be paid by those who, being in a position to buy a musket and sword, should yet be found unprovided with them. Those who, though able to purchase a pike, neglected to do so, were to be fined 10 marks. Yeomen or servants lacking the means to provide themselves with the weapons prescribed by the Act were to be equipped by their respective heritors or masters. Further, the Committees of War in each shire were called upon to acquire and store, two pounds weight of powder and four pounds weight of match and ball, for every fencible person within their district.

It was at this time, too, that the first Act dealing with desertion from the army was passed. It gave strict injunctions to the Colonels and Committees of War to apprehend all those, both of horse and foot, who ran away from their colours, and empowered them, if they thought it expedient for the good of the army, to "decimate the fugitives, and cause hang the tenth man". If there were less than ten offenders, one might still be put to death, "for terrifying others"; and if there were only one, he might be made to suffer the extreme penalty.

Milder legislation originated at this time, too. It was in 1645 that an Act "in favour of lamed soldiers" promised maintenance upon the public charges to all who were so hurt and wounded in the defence of the public cause as to be unfit for their ordinary employment; and that another appointed a Committee to devise measures for the relief of the widows and orphans of those who fell. And so anxious were the Estates that their good faith should not be doubted, that they pledged the honour of the kingdom in proof of it.

From this point, the story of the Scots army merges into that of the civil wars of the period. And to relate it further would be to recapitulate what general histories of Scotland have already made more or less familiar to all.

FOOTNOTES: for THE OLD SCOTTISH ARMY

[278] _Act Parl._, vol. i, Coll. Frag., p. 752.

[279] It has been suggested that _Christis Kirk of the Grene_, being "a jocund skit upon the ludicrous incapacity of the Scottish rustic to handle a bow", may have been intended "to fortify the statutes of law by the aids of ridicule and satire" (Ross, _Early Scottish History and Literature_).

[280] _Act Parl._, vol. ii, p. 8.

[281] _Act Parl._, vol. ii, p. 10.

[282] _Act Parl._, vol. ii, p. 45.

[283] _Act Parl._, vol. ii, p. 48.

[284] _Act Parl._, vol. ii, p. 100.

[285] _Act Parl._, vol. ii, p. 346.

[286] This was in accordance with the very first of the instructions embodied in the Bruce's "Testament", those fourteen lines of which Mr. Oman says that they "contain all the principles on which the Scots, when well advised, acted for the next two hundred and fifty years".

"On fut suld be all Scottis weire, By hyll and mosse themselff to reare. Lat woods for wallis be bow and speire, That innymeis do them na deire. In strait placis gar keip all store, And byrnen ye planeland thaim before. Thane sall thai pass away in haist When that thai find na thing but waist. With wyles and waykings of the nyght And mekill noyis maid on hytht, Thaim sall ye turnen with gret affrai, As thai ware chassit with swerd away. This is the consall and intent Of gud King Robert's testiment."

[287] _Reg. Priv. Coun._, vol. i, p. 62.

[288] "Victual" is the old Scots term for grain of any kind.

[289] _Reg. Priv. Coun._, sub. ann. cit.

[290] _Reg. Priv. Coun._, sub. ann. cit.

THE STORY OF THE "LONG-TAIL" MYTH

The 17th of December, 1566, was the christening day of Mary Stuart's infant son. Amongst the festivities arranged in celebration of the event, there was a "great banquet", to which the representatives of foreign sovereigns had been invited, and at which a foremost place had been assigned to Hatton and the Englishmen who had accompanied him to Scotland. To enliven the entertainment, George Buchanan had written a masque, in which the actors were satyrs who, whilst reciting his complimentary verses, were to bring various symbolical gifts to the royal infant. The performance of this interlude had been entrusted to a Frenchman named Bastien. As the meat was being brought through the great hall, on a "trim engine", that seemed to move of itself, he made his appearance with a band of men disguised to represent the mythological monsters, and wearing long tails, in keeping with their assumed character. But he and his associates "were not content only to red roun". Whether merely acting on a mischievous impulse or deliberately carrying out a preconcerted joke, the mummers, as they passed near the English guests, put their hands to their tails and began wagging them. Hatton and his party "daftly apprehending that which they should not seem to have understood", and placing the worst construction on the silly and unseemly trick, chose to believe that it had been planned in derision of them and out of spiteful jealousy "that the Queen made more of them than of the Frenchmen". To mark their sense of the insult offered them, "they all set down upon the bare floor behind the back of the board, that they should not see themselves scorned, as they thought". In relating the incident to Sir James Melville, who records it in his _Memoirs_, Hatton added that, if it had not taken place in the Royal palace and in presence of the Queen herself, he would "have put a dagger to the heart of the French knave Bastien".[291]

Coarse and unmannerly as was the satyrs' by-play, it would hardly seem to have deserved to be taken so seriously and so ill by the English guests, if it were not remembered that it expressed in dumb show what had for centuries been looked upon by Englishmen as a deadly insult--a reference to the popular belief that they were distinguished from the natives of other countries by the physical monstrosity of bearing tails. That this was accepted as an actual and disgraceful fact there is abundant evidence to prove. In a medieval Latin poem[292] devoted to an enumeration of the distinctive characteristics of the various nations of Europe, the unflattering lines that fall to the share of the English, jeer at them for this deformity, whilst not omitting to denounce the treachery so commonly and so spitefully attributed to them by their enemies:

A brute beast is the Englishman, For he doth bear a tail; Beware, and treat him as a foe, E'en when he bids thee "Hail!"[293]

The anonymous satirist, however, was not original. He had not the merit, such as it might be, of having invented the slander which he flung as an insult at the people against whom he obviously entertained a bitter animosity. If, as there is reason to believe, he was a Frenchman, he merely repeated a gibe which had long been one of the commonplaces of vulgar vituperation amongst his compatriots. In the description which the thirteenth-century chronicler, Jacques de Vitry, gives of the depraved state of Paris in his day, and more particularly of the rude behaviour and coarse jests of the students who flocked to its famous university, he states that diversity of nationality aroused amongst them dissensions, hatred and violent animosities, to which they gave vent by indulging in all kinds of invectives against each other. As an example of their scurrility, he mentions that they called the English drunkards and "tailards".[294] To suppose, from the very absurdity of the imputation, that it was merely cast as a taunt, and that no actual belief lay behind it, would be to ignore all that medieval credulity was capable of. Moreover, the attitude taken up by the English themselves, implied shame at an alleged deformity fully as much as anger at a wanton insult. On this point evidence is supplied by the Dominican monk Etienne de Bourbon, a moralist who flourished about the middle of the thirteenth century. In a treatise which is devoted to the exposition of subjects suitable for the pulpit, and which abounds in quaint stories as well as in caustic commentaries on contemporary manners, he does not omit to deal with the inordinate love of dress displayed by women, and to denounce the prevailing fashion of wearing extravagantly long trains to their gowns. He rebukes them for impiously presuming to better God's work, for doing away with the honourable distinction conferred upon them as human beings, and for deliberately assuming that which brings them down to the same level as brute beasts. As a climax, he inveighs against their shamelessness in making themselves what the English blush to be called--"tailards".[295]

The events that were chiefly instrumental in bringing the English into either contact or conflict with Continental nations, during the Middle Ages, were the Crusades and the Hundred Years' War. The chronicles that deal with these are not wanting in instances from which it may be gathered how readily the obnoxious gibe came to the lips of those that wished to show their contempt for the islanders. Richard of Devizes, who wrote one of the earliest and most authentic narratives of the reign of Richard I, with whom he was contemporary, describes how, in 1190, the inhabitants of Messina manifested their hatred for the strangers whom the King had brought to their shores, and how they tried to wreak vengeance on him and his "tailards"; for, explains the chronicler, the Greeks and the Sicilians gave the name of "tailards" to all who followed the English monarch.[296]

Another very early reference to the use of the term "tailard" as an opprobrious synonym for "Englishmen" is that which occurs in a metrical romance dealing with the same period and also recording, but with poetical freedom, the life and exploits of Richard Coeur de Lion. The exact date of the poem is unknown; but the fact of its being mentioned in the _Chronicles_ of Richard of Gloucester and in those of Robert de Brunne, supplies evidence of its having been written earlier than the year 1300. It is confessedly a translation from the French; and that may account for the appearance in it of an insulting epithet which an English writer might have hesitated to use, even as an invective in the mouth of an enemy. The Second Book of this romance is devoted to a journey to the Holy Land, which the English King is supposed to have undertaken prior to the actual crusade, but which is, however, made to include the well-known incident of his capture. The poet tells how, when returning from Palestine, with "Sir Foulke Doyly of renown, and Sir Thomas of Multoun", Richard was betrayed, captured, and brought as a prisoner before the King of Allemayne; and how, when he represented himself and his companions as pilgrims,

"The Kyng callid Rychard be name, And clepyd him 'taylard', and sayde him schame."[297]

In the Sixth Book of the same poem, it is related how the English King, on his way to Acre, put in at Cyprus and sent messengers to the Emperor, and how that monarch "began to rage", threw a knife at one of them, and followed this up by peremptorily ordering them out of his presence, with the words:--

"Out, 'taylards', of my paleys! Now go and say your 'tayled' King That I owe him no thing."[298]

When the Emperor's steward ventured to represent to his master that such treatment of honourable knights who came to him in the character of ambassadors was not justifiable, the furious but apocryphal potentate

"Carved off his nose by the grusle, And said: Traytour, thief, steward, Go, playne to English 'taylarde'."[299]

There is a further account of Richard's journey to the Holy Land in a poem by a writer of whom we know that his name was Ambrose, and that he witnessed various historical events between 1188 and 1196. It would also appear from his narrative that he actually accompanied the Crusaders on the expedition which he records. He, too, refers to the hostile attitude assumed by the inhabitants of Messina towards the English King's followers, and states that they jeered at the foreigners and called them "foul dogs", an epithet which, in the light of the parallel texts, may be looked upon as an allusion to the tails which the English were commonly believed to bear.[300]

At the beginning of the thirteenth century, there is an instance of the use of the offensive gibe which shows to what purpose it was beginning to be turned by the literate class of the day. During the minority of Henry III, Louis VIII, continuing the aggressive policy inaugurated by his father, Philip Augustus, against the incapable administration of King John, made a vigorous effort to wrest Poitou from the English. Amongst the most noteworthy achievements of this campaign, was the capture of La Rochelle, in 1224. In celebration of this event, a poetaster of the day wrote some doggerel verses, which the _Chronicle of Lanercost_[301] has preserved:--

'Tis our own native King, 'tis a stranger no more, Who reigns in Rochelle, by the fortune of war; And the fear of the English no longer prevails, For he's made them all harmless by breaking their tails.[302]

On the other side, however, it was not forgotten that, a few years earlier, in 1217, the same Louis, after being deserted by the discontented barons who had called him over, had suffered a crushing defeat at Lincoln. This supplied fair material for a retort in the same style:--

We have dragged our French foes, Strung like larks in long rows, And made fast to our tails with a rope;

That it really was so, Why, there's Lincoln to show, And that won't be questioned, I hope.[303]

The circumstances in which we next hear the contemptuous appellation of "tailards" applied to the English are particularly dramatic. It is in the course of the seventh crusade, that which was undertaken, in 1248, by Louis IX with an English contingent, and of which Matthew of Paris is one of the chroniclers. This time, however, it is not from the enemy that the insult comes. It is from an impetuous and overbearing ally, from the French King's brother, Count Robert of Artois. The Count was jealous of William Longsword; and on one occasion, when the leader of the English was returning from a successful but unauthorized raid, he was arbitrarily deprived by his arrogant rival of the booty which he was bringing back to the camp. Having in vain appealed to Louis, who appears to have been quite powerless against his brother's presumption, the English chief retired to Acre, with his two hundred knights; and the news of their departure drew from Artois the scornful exclamation that the army of the noble French was well purged of those "tailards".[304] Longsword was ultimately prevailed upon by the king to return; but it was not long before he had again to bear the brunt of Artois' overweening pride and insolence. A difference of opinion had arisen between the rash and headstrong Count and the more cautious Master of the Templars, as to the advisability of following up a successful attack that had just been made on the infidels. Longsword was present and attempted to intervene as a peacemaker between the disputants; but he only succeeded in drawing on himself the anger of the hot-headed Frenchman, who put a climax to his violent invectives by insultingly referring to the pusillanimity of the timid "tailards", and expressing a wish that the army might, once for all, be purged of tails and "tailards".[305] Even the dignified self-possession of Longsword was not proof against such jeers. "Count Robert," he replied, "I shall certainly proceed, undismayed by any peril of impending death. We shall, I fancy, be to-day where you will not dare to touch my horse's tail."[306] In the engagement thus recklessly forced on--it was the battle of Mansourah--both Artois and Longsword perished. But whilst the French prince lost his life when trying to swim his horse across a river, after ignominiously turning tail,[307] the English knight fell fighting valiantly with his face to the overwhelming foe.

The chronicles which record the events that marked the closing years of the thirteenth century supply a grim illustration of the ignominious treatment which their reputation as "tailards" sometimes brought upon the English. The war which broke out about this time between Edward I and Philip IV of France had for its cause, or, perhaps more correctly, for its pretext, one of the brawls which frequently arose when the sailors of the two countries met in the ports on either side of the Channel. Whether rightly or wrongly, the Frenchmen represented the English as the aggressors. They brought the matter under the notice of their own king, and represented it as an insult to him and to the whole nation that they should have been so wantonly ill-used by the "tailards". In the reprisals which followed, Philip's brother, Charles, took a conspicuous part. Having a previous and personal grievance against the English, he vented his spite even on unoffending pilgrims and students. He hanged several of the poor wretches who fell into his hands; and, adding insult to injury, strung up dogs side by side with them, to intimate, says the _Chronicle of Lanercost_, the resemblance which he thought to exist between the two, or, as another record even more plainly puts it, to show that he made no difference between a dog and an Englishman. Amongst the State Papers relative to the history of Edward I, there is a document which very strikingly confirms the truth of this barbarous incident. It consists of a long roll containing an account of the various outrages committed by the French on English mariners and on inhabitants of the Cinque Ports. One of the charges brought against the Norman seamen is illustrated in the margin by a contemporaneous sketch representing a row of Englishmen hanging up, with a dog between each two.[308]

It is suggestive of the annoyance which the English felt at their opprobrious nickname that, when we find their writers noticing it, it is almost invariably under provocation and in a tone of indignant protest. One noteworthy exception to this is to be met with in a curious, half-literary, half-historical production, attributed to John of Bridlington. It is a political retrospect of the reign of Edward III, and consists of a supposed ancient text, in Latin verse, with a recent commentary on it. The poem itself purports to be a prophecy, whilst the notes indicate in what manner the predictions were fulfilled. As the leading event for the year 1356, the date of the battle of Poitiers, it is foretold that,

"The four cockrels shall learn what defeat is, that day When the French meet the English in battle array, And the big-buttocked bullies are shamefully routed By the men whom as 'tailards' their ribaldry flouted".[309]

The imaginary scholiast explains the meaning of this to be, that the brood of the Gallic cock, or, in other words, the French, will be vanquished by the English, whom they jeeringly call "tailards"; that the appellation which is here applied to them and which has been somewhat euphemistically translated by "big-buttocked", is intended as a set-off against the ignominious term by which they commonly designate the English; and that the four cockrels especially referred to, are the king and his three sons. "And, indeed, these four," it is added, "were actually vanquished in that battle, the King himself being captured with one of his sons, whilst the other two fled from the field."[310]

After Poitiers, the invasion of France by Henry V is chronologically the next important event in the long medieval struggle between England and France. The initial success of the English, whilst embittering the animosity of their enemies, inspired a restraining respect; and there is an expression of those mingled feelings of aversion and of fear in the lines which a poetaster of the day addressed to the invaders, partly as a reproach, partly as an appeal:

"Perfidious race that perjured England breeds, Whose evil nature shows in all your deeds, Why must you still, with baneful purpose, seek Your spite on righteous Frenchmen thus to wreak? Christ's servants they, and constant to the faith Which twice from you has suffered wanton scathe; Your words are fair, but yet in all you do, The crooked paths of falsehood you pursue; Cut off that poisonous tail you long have worn, A byword to the nations, and their scorn! For thee, their king, be not my warning vain, And, in thy mem'ry let this truth remain: That God who willed thou shouldst a 'tailard' be Has not denied his hallowing grace to thee."[311]

But the fortune of war began to turn against the English on the death of Henry V in 1422; and the exultation caused by that event is voiced by Olivier Basselin, in one of his popular poems:--

"The King who sat upon the English throne The crown of France claimed also for his own; He strove to drive as outcasts from their land The men that dared to stem the invading tide; But, when death dashed the sceptre from his hand, The alien host was scattered far and wide, And France is now from English 'tailards' freed; May curses light on all the recreant breed!"[312]

A few years later, possibly about 1430, a popular ballade, in which an unknown writer celebrated the exploits of Jeanne d'Arc, opened with a repetition of the old insult:--

"Back, English 'tailards', back!"[313]

And Enguerrand de Monstrelet, the Burgundian chronicler of the events that marked the latter half of the Hundred Years' War, records another historical occasion on which the French gave utterance to their triumph in the traditional gibe at the alleged monstrosity of their old enemies. In his account of the evacuation of Paris, in 1436, he relates that, as the English retired from the city which they had held for sixteen years, the inhabitants hooted them with great cries of "Tails!"[314]

Coming down to the sixteenth century, we find that, in the early years of it, when hostilities broke out between Louis XII and Henry VIII, the old insult fell readily from the pen of the French versifiers who found subjects for their rhymes in the military incidents of the time. Thus, in the _Dépucellage de la ville de Tournay_, the town, referring to its ill-advised refusal of help when the English laid siege to it, is made to say:--

"To guard my ramparts from the foe's attack A ready offer from the King was brought; But, I refused, and sent the answer back: 'With men for watch and ward, no means I lack To bring the "tailards'" enterprise to nought'".[315]

But pride went before a fall. Tournay was occupied by the English in 1513.

In Anatole de Montaiglon's collection of fifteenth and sixteenth century verse, there is a poem which bears the title of _Courroux de la Mort contre les Anglois_, and which is in substance a bitter invective against the English generally. It is undated; but an allusion to the porcupine, the well-known emblem of Louis XII, points to its having also been written at this same period. In an apostrophe, the poet promises his countrymen an easy victory over the English:--

"In war your arms will speedily prevail Against your foe, the King 'that wears a tail'".[316]

The fight of Guinegate, commonly known as the battle of the Spurs, can hardly have been looked upon by him as a fulfilment of his prophecy. It may rather, if that were still possible, have increased the animosity which inspired the two scurrilous lines in which he strung together as many opprobrious epithets as the measure of his verse would admit, and which duly included the traditional slander, linked, in this instance, with the equally popular nickname of "godon", supposed to have originated in the frequent and profane use which the English made of God's name:--

"Ye noisome, greedy, fetid braggarts, go! Ye 'tailard' godons, rid me of your sight!"[317]

So far, the use of the abusive term "tailard", in French _coué_ and in Latin _caudatus_, has been traced in immediate connection with events that brought the English into direct conflict with their enemies. There are not wanting instances, however, to show that no special provocation was required, and that from century to century it currently served the purpose of those whom national antipathy prompted to revile the English, or to hold them up to ridicule. To begin with Eustache Deschamps, the most prolific and versatile versifier of the late fourteenth and the early fifteenth centuries, we find him giving Englishmen and their tails a conspicuous place in his satirical verses. In a poem of which only a fragment remains, he describes how

"They swagger grandly down the street, An awsome sight to all they meet";

but how, in order not to mar the effect of the imposing appearance which they assume,

"Between their legs they hide with care The tail which rumour says they wear".[318]

The Englishmen's tails also supply the subject of a rondeau in which Deschamps mockingly compares the strength of the French with that of the English, ironically proclaiming the superiority of the latter as proved by the greater mass of flesh they have to carry, and the additional appendage they are obliged to drag about with them:--

The English are more stout, 'tis clear, Than any Frenchman you can meet.

Slight burdens only Frenchmen bear; The English are more stout, 'tis clear.

Two butts they carry everywhere, And eke a tail, so trig and neat, The English are more stout, 'tis clear, Than any Frenchman you can meet.[319]

In addition to this, Deschamps has a satirical ballade, in which he again drags in the English by the tail, professing concern for the inconvenience which it must cause them, and earnestly advising them to hold it up. "Billy", the predecessor of John Bull, as a typical Englishman, opens the poem with a gibe at the "French dogs", who "do nothing but drink wine". "Frenchy" does not deny the soft impeachment, but retorts that he considers it better to indulge in the juice of the grape than to swill beer. Then, by an abrupt transition and, if with rhyme, without any special reason, he compares red-haired Englishmen to mastiffs. On the strength of that canine similitude, he impresses upon them the necessity for holding up their tails. He commiserates them on the additional burden which they have to carry, though not endowed with the physical vigour of Jacques Thommelin, the strong man of the day. He warns them against walking abroad in dirty weather; and if, in spite of the rain, they must take their corn to the mill or gather grapes in the vineyard, he bids them imitate their four-footed neighbours the dogs, and hold up their tails to prevent their trailing in the mud. The satire is not keen, nor is the humour brilliant; and the whole point lies in the rather scurrilous than apt refrain:--

BALLADE

(Sur les Anglais)

"Franche dogue," dist un Anglois, "Vous ne faites que boire vin." "Si faisons bien," dist le François, "Mais vous buvez le henequin; Roux estes com pel de mastin, Vuillequot, de moy aprenez, Quant vous yrez par le chemin: Levez vostre queue, levez!

Vous n'estes pas de membres fais Si comme est Jaques Thommelin Qui porte si merveilleus fais Que vous n'y pourriez mettre fin: Ce sont deux tonneaulx de sapin, C'est voir, et la queue delez. Advisez-vous, dit Franchequin; Levez vostre queue, levez!

N'alez a piet, par le temps frais, Porter vostre blé au moulin; S'il pluet, troussez vo queue près, Autel facent vostre voisin; Et si vous pinciez le raisin, Afin que vous ne vous crotez, Soit en France ou en Limosin, Levez vostre queue, levez!"[320]

Another ballade records an incident which is supposed to have happened in Calais. In company with Granson, a mercenary captain in English pay, but without the necessary safe-conduct, the poet entered the town, which was then in possession of the English. He was at once pulled up by two men-at-arms who addressed him in language of which he quotes such scraps as "dogue" and "goday", "ride" and "commidre". He, on his side, intimated his recognition of their nationality by exclaiming: "Oh yes! I see your tail!" Whilst Granson, who had led him into the trap, made off laughing and calling out that he had no wish to stand surety for him, Deschamps was told that he would be kept in durance, an announcement which again drew from him the taunt, "Oil, je voy vo queue!" Though confessedly blue with fright, he nevertheless summoned up enough courage to make a dash for liberty. Digging his heels vigorously into his cob, he made it rear with a suddenness that sent his captors sprawling; and whilst they lay helplessly on the ground, he hastily betook himself out of their reach, uttering the inevitable refrain:--

BALLADE

(Récit d'une Aventure à Calais)

Je fu l'autrier trop mal venuz Quant j'alay pour veir Calays; J'entray dedenz comme cornuz, Sanz congié; lors vint deux Anglois, Granson devant et moy après, Qui me prindrent parmi la bride: L'un me dist: "dogue", l'autre: "ride"; Lors me devint la coulour bleue: "Goday", fait l'un, l'autre: "commidre". Lors dis: "Oil, je voy vo queue."

Pour mal content s'en est tenuz L'un d'eulx, qui estoit le plus lays, Et dist: "Vous seres retenuz Prinsonnier, vous estes forfais." Mais Granson s'en aloit adès Qui en riant faisait la vuide: A eulx m'avoit trahi, ce cuide, En anglois dist: "Pas ne l'adveue." Passer me font de Dieu l'espite; Lors dis: "Oil, je voy vo queue."

Puis ay mes talons estenduz De mon roucin, le serray près, Lors sault, si furent espanduz; Delez Granson fut mes retrais Là ne me vault treves ne pais, De paour la face me ride, De tel amour ma mort me cuide; Au derrain leur dist: "Je l'adveue." "Chien, faisoit l'un, vez vous vo guide?" Lors dis: "Oil, je voy vo queue!"[321]

Another writer of the same period, Olivier Basselin, refers to the Englishmen's tails in a satirical poem, in which he alleges this physical deformity as his reason for not wishing to live in their country:--

"Do you think it's a joke that I never would dwell 'Mongst the English, as oft I declare? Nay, believe me, my friend, 'tis the truth that I tell, For I hate the long tails that they wear."[322]

In one of his minor poems, Jean Molinet, part-author of the _Roman de la Rose_, who also belongs to the fifteenth century, humorously goes one step further than his fellow satirists, and gives even animals of English race a share in the distinctive peculiarity which birth in England entailed on the human Islanders. Of a certain tom-cat he says:--

"This Cat for his mother had Cathau the Blue, To Calais he does not belong; There's something about him of English breed, too, And that's why his tail is so long."[323]

About the beginning of the sixteenth century, Crétin, a Norman poet, combines encouragement of the French with the usual abuse of the English:--

"Praise shall reward the doughty deeds you do, And store of crowns, and golden angels, too; And, in the ransom of the 'long-tailed' crew, Their flesh and bone shall be as gold to you."[324]

As late as the seventeenth century, an echo of the gibe may still be heard. Larivey, in one of his comedies, _Les Tromperies_, makes a swaggering captain boast of the reputation which he has acquired by valiantly charging the English "tailards" when they attempted to land at Dieppe.[325] Still nearer our own day, Saint-Amant, who, indeed, is so modern that he was one of the original members of the French Academy and figures in Boileau's satires, has a reference to the English longtails in his _Rome Ridicule_. He incidentally claims for the French the strange merit of having rid their country of the goitre and of the king's evil by making carrion of the English invaders:--

"The goitre now we never see, And cruels, too, have ceased to be, E'er since we slew our 'tailard' foes And made them food to gorge the crows".[326]

By this time, however, the tradition had ceased to be popular; for in a note on this passage, Saint-Amant's contemporary, Conrart, thought it necessary to give an explanation of the epithet "quouez". According to him, it was justified by the fact that, in the case of the majority of Englishmen, the end of the os sacrum, called _coccyx_, actually protrudes and forms a tail![327]

But, even yet, the old cry has not wholly died out. In the Island of Guernsey, that genuine bit of Normandy, where it was once so frequently heard, it is perpetuated by the country children. They have a custom of slyly throwing at passers-by a hairy, clinging weed, which grows abundantly by the wayside. If any of it catches on to the victims of their childish trick, these are made aware of it by hearing themselves jeered at with cries of "la Coue!" The words are the very same as those recorded by Monstrelet; and this identity seems to justify the belief that they are a survival of the medieval scoff.

* * * * *

The Scots, sharing as they did the feeling of animosity entertained by the French against their English foes, were no less ready than they to give it expression; and the insulting taunt which they had learnt from their continental allies was adopted as an effective means to that end. It is not, however, amidst the excitement of international strife that the cry is first heard. The earliest instance of its use in the North Country is given by Bower. Under the date of 1217, he has an account of the mission to Scotland, undertaken by the Prior of Durham and the Archdeacon of York, in connection with the interdict under which the kingdom had been laid. These two prelates made themselves very unpopular by the mercenary spirit which they displayed; and a monkish satirist voiced the irritation which they aroused, in a strongly worded Latin poem, containing amongst other terms of reproach and invective, a denunciation of them as "tailards":--

"Those clerics, both in treach'rous England born, Are of the breed by whom long tails are worn".[328]

As regards the other instances supplied by the chroniclers, it is noteworthy that the insult was, in each case, avenged by the defeat of those who flung it at their enemies. The first occasion on which this is reported to have occurred was the battle of Dunbar, in 1296. The Castle, at that time one of the most important in Scotland, had been delivered over to the Scottish leaders by the Countess of Dunbar. Edward I at once sent John Plantagenet, Earl of Warrenne and Surrey, to recapture it. The garrison, conscious of its inability to hold out against the ten thousand foot and the thousand heavy-armed horse which the English leader commanded, agreed to surrender to him if it were not relieved within three days. In the meantime, John Baliol, anxious to retain so important a stronghold, sent his whole army of forty thousand foot and fifteen hundred horse to its succour. When the besieged saw this formidable force encamped on the heights above Spot, they felt confident of success; and in their premature exultation, they jeered at the English, calling them "tailed dogs", and threatening not only to kill them, but also to cut off their tails. Their boasts were not justified by the result. In the engagement that followed, the rashness of the Scots in abandoning their favourable position proved disastrous. Ten thousand of them fell on the field or during the pursuit; and next day the Castle surrendered at discretion to Edward, who came up from Berwick with the remainder of his army.[329]

In the following year, Lord Robert Clifford made an incursion into Annandale, at the head of twenty thousand infantry, preceded by a body of only one hundred cavalry. On passing the Solway, it was proclaimed by sound of trumpet that every soldier might plunder for himself and keep his own booty. On hearing this welcome announcement, the infantry dispersed over the country, and the horse alone remained together and marched on Annan, where the Scots, thinking they had to do with a mere handful, received them with jeers and insults, as a pack of "tailed" dogs. But when it came to actual fighting, the heavy-armed cavalry proved too much for the dalesmen. They were driven into marshy ground, where they were easily overpowered by the infantry that had hurried up to reinforce the vanguard. Over three hundred of the Scots were slain, many prisoners were taken; and before the Englishmen returned to Carlisle with their booty, the destruction of ten villages had given the scoffers good reason to think less contemptuously of the "tailards".[330]

At least once again the ill-omened cry was heard. It was on the eve of the battle of Dupplin, which was fought on the 12th of August, 1332, between Edward Baliol, with his English supporters, and the army of David II, under the Earl of Mar. Trusting to their superior numbers and to their advantageous position, the Scots were confident of success. They spent a part of the night in drinking and in singing songs that contained insulting reference to

"The English 'tailards', jeered at for their tails",

and they bragged that they would turn those same tails to practical use, by binding their wearers, and dragging them to the gallows with them.[331] But the boastful Scots were beaten, and one of the chroniclers who record their defeat, reminds them of Seneca's saying, that never did proud joy stand on a sure footing. "Now," he adds, by way of moral, "you who, but the day before, declared you would make ropes of the Englishmen's tails to bind them with, are yourselves bound in real fetters."[332]

In Wright's collection of medieval political songs, there are some doggerel verses, which are ascribed to this same half of the fourteenth century, and which probably refer to the driving out of the English from some of the strongholds which they had occupied. In his crabbed Latin, the writer, doubtless some monkish patriot, bids Scotland rejoice at the happy deliverance:

"The 'tails' appeared, a while they held their sway, But now, at last, they've all been lopped away; The 'tails' have gone, and fearlessly we may Proclaim 'O Scotland, hail the happy day!'"[333]

Those lines, such as they are, may serve as a connecting link between the historical instances of the use of the derogatory appellation and those which refer to no special incident, but are merely adaptations of the old scoff for the purpose of literary invective. The latter are not numerous; but one of them is interesting from the fact that it introduces the familiar "tails" under a new name. It occurs in The _Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedy_, that remarkable production which, though probably nothing more than a _jeu d'esprit_, a kind of friendly sparring-match between two adversaries "who give each other plaguy knocks with all the love and fondness of a brother", is assuredly one of the most astonishing instances of verbal scurrility to be found in literature. In this wordy tournament the two poets allude in uncomplimentary language to each other's family history, and Kennedy reproaches Dunbar, who was a native of Lothian, with being descended from a traitor, from Corspatrick, who,

"Throu his tressoun brocht Inglis 'rumpillis' in".[334]

John Skelton, a satirist of the late fifteenth and the early sixteenth century, has preserved three Latin hexameters in which a Scottish scholar, George Dundas, at one time a professor at the University of Aberdeen, scoffs at the English in the familiar way, by alluding to their tails. The Englishman himself, after the battle of Flodden, had written against the Scots, with the scurrility which characterized him and which made him obnoxious even to his own countrymen; and it seems probable that Dundas's lines occurred in a poem written as a retort. The only connection between them, however, consists in the repetition of the same idea in a slightly different form; and it is hardly possible to assume that they stood together, and are to be taken as an epigram. It may also be noted that the first of them is almost identical with one that is known to have been current at a much earlier date:

"An Englishman's a dog, because we find That, like a dog he bears a tail behind".

"Thou English 'tailard', hold thy tail with care, For fear it drop from thee, at unaware."

"By reason of their tails, the English race Must bear about a burden of disgrace."[335]

In whatever connection the lines may have appeared, they provoked "the noble poet Skelton", as he styles himself, to a reply which has for its heading the statement that, "The most vile Scot, Dundas, alleges that Englishmen have tails". Apostrophizing him as a "shameless, noxious, foul-mouthed, lying Scot", he asks him how he dares utter such a slander. Then, dropping into macaronic verses, he adorns them with such flowers of vituperation as these:

This Dundas, This Scottishe as, He rymes and railes That Englishmen have tailes.

Skelton Laureat After this rate Defendeth with his pen All Englishmen Agayn Dundas The Scottishe as. Shake thy tayle, Scot, like a cur, For thou beggest at every mannes dur. Tut, Scot, I sey, Go, shake the, dog, hey! Dundas of Galaway With thy versyfyeng rayles How they have tayles.[336]

Though recalled, some half a century later, by the insulting piece of by-play which it suggested to Mary Stuart's French courtiers, and at which, as we have already recorded, Hatton and his countrymen waxed so wroth, the "tailard" taunt is not again heard in the story of the old feud between England and Scotland. From the sixteenth century to its final disappearance from use and even from memory, it seems to have remained as exclusively French as it doubtless was in its origin.