Part 9

[604] fourth.

[605] over the grasslands.

[606] revenues.

[607] was named.

[608] as they deemed best.

[609] splendour.

[610] enterprise.

[611] choose.

[612] most agreeable.

[613] Who.

[614] earth.

[615] powerful.

[616] live.

[617] By sight of these.

[618] doubt.

[619] was taken.

[620] without.

[621] prevent.

[622] must.

[623] devoured.

[624] folded.

[625] To caress and embrace.

[626] wit.

[627] pleasure.

[628] float.

[629] give practice.

[630] with forward-moving wheels.

[631] shires, _lit._ districts sheared off.

[632] vexing.

[633] much pain.

[634] end.

[635] war.

[636] overcome.

[637] constant warfare.

[638] makes breach in.

[639] serene.

[640] not be daunted.

[641] certain.

[642] shall vanish without delay.

[643] gone.

[644] know.

[645] In such fashion.

[646] smoky.

[647] converts sores.

[648] the day star, _i.e._ the sun.

[649] perfects.

[650] without peer.

[651] wipe, cleanse.

[652] sphere.

[653] called.

[654] hurts.

[655] mingled.

[656] warlike rage.

[657] slit.

[658] delicate.

[659] warlike.

[660] reigned.

[661] drove from their realms.

[662] bite.

[663] lost.

[664] stop.

[665] daunted by his war.

[666] children.

[667] acquire substance.

[668] deified.

[669] illustrious.

[670] high above genius.

[671] repulsive.

[672] darkness.

[673] solely.

[674] would not.

[675] lives as beast conscious of knowledge.

[676] ages.

[677] overhauls.

[678] barren wife.

[679] the prolific fails.

[680] And then possess.

[681] cover over.

[682] strong, raging.

[683] adorn.

[684] praise.

[685] champion.

NOBILNES.

_From the Proheme to the Translation of Boece’s History._

For nobilnes sum-time the loving is[686], That cumis be meritis of our eldaris gone. As Aristotill writis in his Rethorikis, Amang nobillis, quhay castin thaim repone[687] Mon[688] dres thair life and dedis one be one To mak thaim worthy to have memore For honour to thair prince or nation, To be in glore to thair posterite.

Ane-othir kind thair is of nobilnes That cumis be infusion naturall, And makis ane man sa full of gentilnes, Sa curtes, plesand, and sa liberall, That every man dois him ane nobill call. The lion is sa nobill, as men tellis, He cannot rage aganis the bestis small, Bot on thaim quhilkis[689] his majeste rebellis.

The awfull[690] churle is of ane-othir strind[691]. Thoucht he be borne to vilest servitude Thair may na gentrice[692] sink into his mind, To help his friend or nichtbour with his gud. The bludy wolf is of the samin stude[693]; He feris gret beistis and ragis on the small, And leiffis in slauchter, tyranny, and blud, But ony mercy, quhare he may ouirthrall[694].

This man is born ane nobill, thow will say, And gevin to sleuth and lust immoderat: All that his eldaris wan, he puttis away, And fra thair virtew is degenerat; The more his eldaris fame is elevat The more thair life to honour to approche; Thair fame and loving ay interminat, The more is ay unto his vice reproche.

Amang the oist[695] of Grekis, as we hard, Two knichtis war, Achilles and Tersete; That ane maist vailyeand, this othir maist coward. Better is to be, sayis Juvinall the poete, Tersetis son, havand Achilles sprete, With manly force his purpos to fulfill, Than to be lord of every land and strete, And syne maist cowart, cumin[696] of Achill.

Man, callit ay maist nobill creature, Becaus his life maist reason dois assay, Ay sekand honour with his besy cure[697], And is na noble quhen honour is away. Thairfore he is maist nobill man, thow say, Of all estatis, under reverence, That vailyeantly doith close the latter day, Of native cuntre deand[698] in defence.

The glore of armis and of forcy dedis,[699] Quhen thay ar worthy to be memoriall, Na les be wit than manheid ay procedis. As Plinius wrait in Story Naturall, Ane herd of hertis is more strong at all, Havand ane lion aganis the houndis foure, Than herd of lionis arrayit in battall, Havand ane hert to be thair governoure.

Quhen fers Achilles was be Paris slane, Amang the Grekis began ane subtell plede, Quhay was maist nobill and prudent capitane Into his place and armour to succede; Quhay couth[700] thaim best in every dangeir lede, And sauf[701] thair honour as he did afore. The vailyeant Ajax wan not for his manhede Quhen wise Ulysses bure away the glore.

Manhede but prudence is ane fury blind, And bringis ane man to schame and indegence. Prudence but manhede cumis oft behind, Howbeit it have na les intelligence Of thingis to cum than gone, be sapience. Thairfore quhen wit and manhede doith concurre Hie honour risis with magnificence: For glore to noblis is ane groundin spurre.

[686] the praise is.

[687] those who propose to take place.

[688] must.

[689] which.

[690] fearful.

[691] strain, race.

[692] courtesy.

[693] same stock.

[694] overcome.

[695] host.

[696] come, begotten.

[697] care.

[698] dying.

[699] powerful deeds.

[700] who could.

[701] save, preserve.

ADDRESS

TO BELLONA AND KING JAMES V.

_From the “Proloug apoun the Traduction of Titus Livius.”_[702]

Armipotent lady, Bellona serene, Goddes of wisdome and jeoperdyis of were[703], Sister of Mars, and ledare of his rene. And of his batallis awfull messingere! Thy werelyke trumpett thounder in mine ere-- The horribill battellis and the bludy harmes-- To write of Romanis, the nobil men of armes.

And bricht Appollo with thy cours eterne, That makis the frutis spring on every ground, And with thy mychty influence dois governe The twynkland sternes about the mappamound[704]! Thy fyry visage on my vers diffound[705], And quikin the spretis of my dull ingine[706] With rutiland[707] beme of thy low[708] divine.

And ye my soverane be line continewall, Ay cum of kingis your progenitouris, And writis in ornate stile poeticall Quik-flowand vers of rethorik cullouris, Sa freschlie springand in youre lusty flouris To the grete comforte of all trew Scottismen, Be now my muse and ledare of my pen!

That be youre helpe and favoure gracius I may be abill, as ye commandit me, To follow the prince of storie, Livius, Quhais curious ressouns tonit ar so hie. And every sens sa full of majeste That so he passes uther stories all, As silver Diane dois the sternis[709] small.

For I intend of this difficill werk To mak ane end or I my lauboure stint[710], War not the passage and stremes ar sa stark[711], Quhare I have salit, full of crag and clynt[712], That ruddir and takillis of my schip ar tynt[713]; And thus my schip, without ye mak support Wil peris lang or[714] it cum to the port.

[702] The prologue consists of twenty stanzas, of which the first four and the last are here printed.

[703] hazards of war.

[704] map of the world.

[705] diffuse.

[706] the spirits of my dull intelligence.

[707] glittering.

[708] flame.

[709] stars.

[710] stop.

[711] strong, hard to encounter.

[712] hard rock.

[713] lost.

[714] perish long ere.

THE EXCUSATION OF THE PRENTAR.

_Prefixed to the Translation of Boece’s History._

Ingyne[715] of man be inclinatioun In sindry wyse is geuin, as we se. Sum men ar geuin to detractioun, Inuy, displeseir, or malancolie, And to thair nychbouris hes no cherite. Sum ar so nobill and full of gentilnes, Thay luf no-thing bot joy and merynes.

Sum ar at vndir[716], and sum maid vp of nocht: Sum men luffis peace, and sum desiris weir[717]. Sum is so blyth in-to his mery thocht He curis[718] nocht, so he may perseueir In grace and fauour of his lady deir. Sum boldin[719] at othir in maist cruell feid[720], With lance and dagar rynnis to the deid[721].

Ane hes that mycht ane hundreth weil sustene, And leiffis[722] in wo and pennance at his table, And of gud fallois comptis nocht ane bene[723]; His wrechit mynd is so insaciable; As heuin and hell wer no-thing bot ane fable He birnis ay, but sycht[724] to gud or euil, And rynnis with all his baggis to the deuil.

And I the prentar, that dois considir weil Thir sindry myndis of men in thair leuing[725], Desiris nocht bot on my laubour leil[726] That I mycht leif, and of my just wynnyng Mycht first pleis God, and syne our noble Kyng, And that ye reders bousum and attent[727] Wer of my laubour and besynes content.

And in this wark, that I haue heir assailyeit To bring to lycht, maist humely I exhort Yow nobill reders, quhare that I haue failyeit In letter, sillabe, poyntis lang or schort, That ye will of your gentrice it support[728], And tak the sentence[729] the best wyse ye may; I sall do better, will God, ane-othir day.

[715] Spirit.

[716] Some are deep-thinking.

[717] war.

[718] cares.

[719] rage.

[720] feud.

[721] death.

[722] lives.

[723] of good fellows counts not a bean.

[724] He burns, without regard.

[725] living.

[726] loyal.

[727] compliant and attentive.

[728] of your courtesy forbear with it.

[729] composition.

ANNO DOMINI.

_The opening stanzas of “The Benner of Pietie.”_

Quhen goldin Phebus movit fra the Ram Into the Bull to mak his mansioun, And hornit Dean in the Virgin cam With visage paill in hir assentioun, Approcheand to hir oppositioun; Quhen donk Awrora with hir mistie schowris, Fleand of skyis the bricht reflexioun, Hir siluer teiris skalit[730] on the flouris;

The sesoun quhen the greit Octauian Baith erd[731] and seis had in his gouernance With diademe as roy Cesarian In maist excellent honor and plesance, With every gloir that micht his fame advance; Quhen he the croun of hie triumphe had worne, Be quhais peax and royell ordinance The furious Mars wes blawin to the horne[732];

The samyne[733] tyme quhen God omnipotent Beheld of man the greit callamitie, And thocht the tyme wes than expedient Man to redeme fra thrald captiuite, And to reduce him to felicitie With body and sawle to be glorificat Quhilk wes condempnit in the lymb[734] to bie Fra[735] he wes first in syn prevaricat;

Before the Fader, Mercye than appeiris With flude of teris rainnand fra hir ene, Said, “Man hes bene in hell fyve thowsand yeiris, Sen he wes maid in feild of Damascene, And cruwall tormentis dayly dois sustene But ony confort, cryand for mercie. How may thy grace nocht with thy pietie mene[736] Off thy awin[737] werk the greit infirmitie?”

“And be the contrare,” then said Veretie, “Thy word eterne but end is permanent, Vnalterat, but mvtabilitie, Withowttin slicht of ony argument; Quhen Adame wes fund inobedient In Paradice thruche his ambitioun, Perpetualy, be richtous jugement, Off thy blist visage tynt[738] fruisioun.”

Than Pece said, “Lord haif in thy memorie That man, thy wark, was creat to that fyne[739], That he micht haif perfyte felicitie With thé aboif the hevynis cristellyne-- Quhilk Lucifer did thrwch his foly tyne-- Sumtyme maid to thy image worthiest: It wes said than be prophecie devyne That thow sowld sleip and in my bosom rest.”

And Justice said, “His odius offence Contrare thy hie excellent dignitie, His oppin syn and wilfull negligence, Befoir thy sicht sowld mair aggregit[740] bie, Sen thow art Alpha, O, and Veretie: Be richtous dome, Adame and all his seid, For tressone done agane thy maiestie, Condempnit is to thoill[741] the bitter deid[742].”

Thir ladeis foure, contending beselie With argumentis and mony strong repplyis, Beffoir the blissit Fader equalie, Sum for justice, and sum for mercie cryis. The Fader wret ane sentence in this wyiss, “For tressone done aganis oure maiestie, The bittir deid salbe are sacrifyiss The grit offence of man to satisfie.”

[730] scattered.

[731] earth.

[732] declared rebel. See note, p. 97.

[733] same.

[734] limbo.

[735] From the time when.

[736] lament.

[737] own.

[738] lost.

[739] end.

[740] aggravated.

[741] suffer.

[742] death.

KING JAMES THE FIFTH.

More romance is associated in the popular mind of Scotland with the career of James the Fifth than with that of any other of the romantic race of Stuart, except perhaps the last of the line, the hero of the ’45. For three centuries stories of the amours and escapades of “the Gudeman of Ballengeich” have formed the familiar tradition of the countryside; his exploits have been the subject of innumerable songs, ballads, and minstrel lays, from “The Jolly Beggar” itself, to “The Lady of the Lake”; and even at the present day the eye of a Scotsman kindles with lively reminiscence; at mention of the kindly “King of the Commons.”

Son of that gallant James who fell at Flodden, and of Margaret, the hot-blooded sister of Henry VIII., he might have been predicted to make for himself a life more eventful than that of most men. His time, besides, fell at a crisis in Scottish history--the meeting of the counter currents of the old order and the new in the Reformation. Whatever the causes, the fact remains that from his birth at Linlithgow on 10th April, 1512, till his death at Falkland on 14th December, 1542, the career of James V. presents a continuous series of personal episodes as dramatic as anything on the historic stage. Dating his reign from the most tragic disaster in Scottish history, he was crowned King of Scotland before he could speak, a month after his father’s death on the battlefield. Smiled on by the Muses in his cradle, his childish gambols have been made a sunny picture for all time by the verses of his childhood’s companion, one of the greatest of the national poets. Invested with the sceptre at twelve years of age, at sixteen he suddenly astonished his enemies by proving that he could wield it, making himself at one stroke and in a few hours absolute master of Scotland.

Nothing, perhaps, shows one side of the character of James--his decision, daring, and resolute energy--better than the transaction of the night in May, 1528, when, slipping the Douglas leash at Falkland, he galloped through the defiles of the Ochils with Jockie Hart, and appeared at once as unquestioned king among his nobles at Stirling. As energetic, however, and almost as dramatic were the young monarch’s measures for restoring order in his disordered realm. Under the Douglas usurpation every abuse had been rampant, might had everywhere overridden right, and outrage had everywhere scorched the land with sorrow and fire. Such a state of things was only to be righted by an iron hand, and if the acts of James have sometimes appeared severe to modern eyes, there can be no doubt that severity was needed. In particular, the young king’s descent upon the Border has been remembered in story and song.[743] Shutting up the Border lords beforehand in Edinburgh, he swept suddenly through Ettrick Forest, Eskdale, and Teviotdale, surprising freebooters like Cockburn of Henderland, Scott of Tushielaw, and Johnnie Armstrong, in their own fastnesses, and by the execution of swift, sharp justice reduced these lawless regions forthwith to tranquillity. Rebellions in the Orkneys and the Western Isles were quelled with tact and promptitude; the attempts of the Douglases upon the marches were met and defeated by superior force, and the insidious approaches of Henry VIII. were checkmated by sending a force of seven thousand Highlanders over seas to assist O’Donnel, the Irish chief, in his efforts to shake off the English yoke.

[743] The dramatic incidents of the raid have been immortalized in famous ballads like “Johnnie Armstrong,” “The Sang of the Outlaw Murray,” and “The Border Widow’s Lament.”

One incident in the life of James illustrates vividly the spirit of extravagant devotion which the character of the Stuarts from first to last seems to have been capable of exciting in their followers. During a royal progress through his dominions the young king was entertained by the Earl of Athole in a sumptuous palace of wood erected for the occasion on a meadow at the foot of Ben y Gloe. Hung with tapestries of silk and gold, and lit by windows of stained glass, this palace, surrounded by a moat and by towers of defence in the manner of a feudal castle, lodged the king more luxuriously than any of his own residences. Yet on the departure of the royal cavalcade the Earl, declaring that the palace which had lodged the sovereign should never be profaned by accommodating a subject, to the astonishment of the Papal legate who was present, ordered the whole fabric, with all that it contained, to be given to the flames.

It was at this period of his life that James engaged in most of those romantic adventures by which, under his assumed name of “the Gudeman of Ballengeich,” he is popularly remembered. He was as fearless as he was energetic, and upon tidings of misdeeds, however remote, he made no hesitation in getting instantly on horseback and spurring at the head of his small personal retinue to attack and punish the evil-doers. In these excursions he constantly shared extreme perils and privations with his followers. These and the perils of his too frequent intrigues with the fair daughters of his subjects form the burden of most of the traditions current regarding him. One of the most characteristic of these traditions is preserved by Scott in his _Tales of a Grandfather_, was used by the great romancist for the plot of “The Lady of the Lake,” and forms the subject of the favourite drama of “Cramond Brig.” Another, hardly less dramatic and amusing, also preserved by Scott, is that of James’s turning the tables upon Buchanan of Arnpryor, the bold “King of Kippen.”

None of his adventures, however, surpasses in romantic incident the weightier matter of the king’s own marriage. In the hope of withdrawing Scotland from the support of France in the great continental rivalry then going on, the Emperor Charles V. had in turn offered James alliance with his sister, the Queen of Hungary, his niece the daughter of the King of Denmark, and with a second niece the Princess Mary of Portugal; while Henry VIII. had offered his own daughter Mary to the young monarch. In one case the whole of Norway was offered by way of dowry. But James had a mind of his own on the subject, and was not to be tempted from the ancient policy of the country. Sir David Lyndsay was accordingly despatched to arrange a marriage with the daughter of the Duc de Vendôme, the head of the princely house of Bourbon. The treaty was all but concluded, when suddenly, among the attendants of some nobles freshly arrived from Scotland, the princess recognised James himself. Irking at his envoy’s delay he had hit upon this device for forming personal acquaintance with his bride, but his identity was betrayed by a portrait which he had previously sent her. For eight days he was sumptuously entertained by the Bourbons, but, dissatisfied in some way with the choice which had been made for him, he formed an excuse to visit the court of Francis I. There he fell in love with the king’s eldest daughter, the fragile Princess Magdalene. She, it appears, became also passionately attached to him, and, notwithstanding all obstacles--the warnings of the physicians and the reluctance of Francis to expose his daughter to an inhospitable climate, the two were married on 1st January, 1537, and after four months of rejoicings and utmost happiness sailed for Scotland. The gallant fleet of fifty ships sailed up the Firth of Forth on the 28th of May, and it is narrated that as she landed to pass to Holyrood the fair young queen stooped down and kissed the soil of her husband’s country.

This romantic method of royal match-making, however, must be considered to have cost James dear. His continued absence from the country had left room for the machinations of his enemies; his previous good fortune seemed, upon his return, to fail him; and worst of all, amid the increasing troubles of the time he seems to have been oppressed by a certain foreboding.

Forty days after landing, and while preparations were being made for her triumphal progress through the country, the seventeen-year-old queen died. “And,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “the king’s heavy moan that he made for her was greater than all the rest.” A second marriage, it is true, was, for political reasons, and with the approval of Francis, forthwith arranged for James, and in the summer of 1538 Marie, daughter of the Duc de Guise, was received with gallant display by her royal consort at St. Andrews. But three months later, news arrived from France that the daughter of the Duc de Vendôme had sickened of her disappointment, and was dead. “Quhairat,” to quote Pitscottie again, “when the King of Scotland got wit, he was highlie displeased (distressed), thinkand that he was the occasion of that gentlewoman’s death also.”

Meanwhile the intrigues of Henry VIII. and the banished Douglases had succeeded in corrupting a great part of the Scottish nobility. Twice was the life of James attempted; first by the Master of Forbes, a brother-in-law of the Earl of Angus, and next by Angus’s sister, Janet Douglas, Lady Glammis. With envious eyes and diminishing loyalty the Scottish nobles saw the English peers enriched by Henry’s distribution of the confiscated church lands, while James consistently refused to carry out the same plan of spoliation in Scotland. The climax of the young king’s troubles was reached in 1542. Hitherto Henry VIII., in his designs upon the independence of the northern kingdom, had confined himself to the arts of policy and bribery, suborning the trusted servants of the crown, and embroiling James between the rights of the church and the ambition of the nobles. Now, however, the time seemed ripe, and he sent the English forces openly across the Border. These were met and routed with courage and promptitude; and, overjoyed at his success, the Scottish king had made full preparations for retaliating, and was marching south at the head of his army, when at Fala his nobles suddenly refused to carry war into England, and forced him to abandon the campaign. This dishonour before his people, followed immediately by the disgraceful rout of a Scottish army at Solway Moss, broke the gallant young monarch’s heart. To add to his sorrows his two infant sons had died within a short time of each other. Upon hearing of the destruction of his troops he shut himself up in the palace of Falkland, where, overwhelmed with grief and despair, he sank under a burning fever. One hope still sustained him: the birth of an heir to the throne was hourly expected. On the 7th of December news arrived that the queen had been safely delivered. To the king’s eager question the messenger replied that the infant was “ane fair dochter.” “Is it so?” said James; “Fairweill! The crown cam with a lass, and it will gang with a lass.” Whereupon, in the quaint words of Pitscottie, “he commendit himselff to the Almightie God, and spak litle from thensforth, bot turned his back to his lords and his face to the wall.” On the 14th of December he passed away.

There exists an interesting description of James from the pen of Ronsard, who accompanied the queen from France and was a servant at the Scottish court.

Ce Roy d’Escosse etoit en la fleur de ses ans; Ses cheveux non tondues, comme fin or luisans, Cordonnez et crespez, flottans dessus sa face, Et, sur son cou de lait, luy donnoit bon grace. Son port etoit royal, son regard vigoureux, De vertus et d’honneur et de guerre amoureux; La douceur et la force illustroit son visage, Si que Venus et Mars en avoient fait partage.