_Jacques_. There is, suie, another flood toward, and these couples are
coming to the ark!--Here comes a pair of very strange beasts.--_As You
Like It_.
The fashion of such narratives as the present, changes like other
earthly things. Time was that the tale-teller was obliged to wind up
his story by a circumstantial description of the wedding, bedding, and
throwing the stocking, as the grand catastrophe to which, through so
many circumstances of doubt and difficulty, he had at length happily
conducted his hero and heroine. Not a circumstance was then omitted,
from the manly ardour of the bridegroom, and the modest blushes of the
bride, to the parson's new surplice, and the silk tabinet mantua of
the bridesmaid. But such descriptions are now discarded, for the same
reason, I suppose, that public marriages are no longer fashionable, and
that, instead of calling together their friends to a feast and a dance,
the happy couple elope in a solitary post-chaise, as secretly as if they
meant to go to Gretna-Green, or to do worse. I am not ungrateful for a
change which saves an author the trouble of attempting in vain to give
a new colour to the commonplace description of such matters; but,
notwithstanding, I find myself forced upon it in the present instance,
as circumstances sometimes compel a stranger to make use of an old road
which has been for some time shut up. The experienced reader may have
already remarked, that the last chapter was employed in sweeping out
of the way all the unnecessary and less interesting characters, that I
might clear the floor for a blithe bridal.
In truth, it would be unpardonable to pass over slightly what so
deeply interested our principal personage, King James. That learned and
good-humoured monarch made no great figure in the politics of Europe;
but then, to make amends, he was prodigiously busy, when he could find a
fair opportunity of intermeddling with the private affairs of his loving
subjects, and the approaching marriage of Lord Glenvarloch was matter
of great interest to him. He had been much struck (that is, for him,
who was not very accessible to such emotions) with the beauty and
embarrassment of the pretty Peg-a-Ramsay, as he called her, when he
first saw her, and he glorified himself greatly on the acuteness which
he had displayed in detecting her disguise, and in carrying through the
whole inquiry which took place in consequence of it.
He laboured for several weeks, while the courtship was in progress, with
his own royal eyes, so as wellnigh to wear out, he declared, a pair
of her father's best barnacles, in searching through old books and
documents, for the purpose of establishing the bride's pretensions to
a noble, though remote descent, and thereby remove the only objection
which envy might conceive against the match. In his own opinion, at
least, he was eminently successful; for, when Sir Mungo Malagrowther one
day, in the presence-chamber, took upon him to grieve bitterly for the
bride's lack of pedigree, the monarch cut him short with, "Ye may save
your grief for your ain next occasions, Sir Mungo; for, by our royal
saul, we will uphauld her father, Davy Ramsay, to be a gentleman of nine
descents, whase great gudesire came of the auld martial stock of the
House of Dalwolsey, than whom better men never did, and better never
will, draw sword for king and country. Heard ye never of Sir William
Ramsay of Dalwolsey, man, of whom John Fordoun saith,--'He was
_bellicosissimus, nobilissimus?_'--His castle stands to witness for
itsell, not three miles from Dalkeith, man, and within a mile of
Bannockrig. Davy Ramsay came of that auld and honoured stock, and I
trust he hath not derogated from his ancestors by his present craft.
They all wrought wi' steel, man; only the auld knights drilled holes wi'
their swords in their enemies' corslets, and he saws nicks in his brass
wheels. And I hope it is as honourable to give eyes to the blind as
to slash them out of the head of those that see, and to show us how to
value our time as it passes, as to fling it away in drinking, brawling,
spear-splintering, and such-like unchristian doings. And you maun
understand, that Davy Ramsay is no mechanic, but follows a liberal art,
which approacheth almost to the act of creating a living being,
seeing it may be said of a watch, as Claudius saith of the sphere of
Archimedes, the Syracusan--
"Inclusus variis famulatur spiritus astris, Et vivum certis motibus
urget opus.'"
"Your Majesty had best give auld Davy a coat-of-arms, as well as a
pedigree," said Sir Mungo.
"It's done, or ye bade, Sir Mungo," said the king; "and I trust we, who
are the fountain of all earthly honour, are free to spirit a few drops
of it on one so near our person, without offence to the Knight of Castle
Girnigo. We have already spoken with the learned men of the Herald's
College, and we propose to grant him an augmented coat-of-arms, being
his paternal coat, charged with the crown-wheel of a watch in chief, for
a difference; and we purpose to add Time and Eternity, for supporters,
as soon as the Garter King-at-Arms shall be able to devise how Eternity
is to be represented."
"I would make him twice as muckle as Time," [Footnote: Chaucer says,
there is nothing new but what it has been old. The reader has here the
original of an anecdote which has since been fathered on a Scottish
Chief of our own time.] said Archie Armstrong, the Court fool, who
chanced to be present when the king stated this dilemma. "Peace, man--ye
shall be whippet," said the king, in return for this hint; "and you, my
liege subjects of England, may weel take a hint from what we have said,
and not be in such a hurry to laugh at our Scottish pedigrees, though
they be somewhat long derived, and difficult to be deduced. Ye see that
a man of right gentle blood may, for a season, lay by his gentry, and
yet ken whare to find it, when he has occasion for it. It would be as
unseemly for a packman, or pedlar, as ye call a travelling merchant,
whilk is a trade to which our native subjects of Scotland are specially
addicted, to be blazing his genealogy in the faces of those to whom he
sells a bawbee's worth of ribbon, as it would be to him to have a
beaver on his head, and a rapier by his side, when the pack was on his
shoulders. Na, na--he hings his sword on the cleek, lays his beaver on
the shelf, puts his pedigree into his pocket, and gangs as doucely and
cannily about his peddling craft as if his blood was nae better than
ditch-water; but let our pedlar be transformed, as I have kend it happen
mair than ance, into a bein thriving merchant, then ye shall have a
transformation, my lords.
'In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas--'
Out he pulls his pedigree, on he buckles his sword, gives his beaver a
brush, and cocks it in the face of all creation. We mention these things
at the mair length, because we would have you all to know, that it is
not without due consideration of the circumstances of all parties, that
we design, in a small and private way, to honour with our own royal
presence the marriage of Lord Glenvarloch with Margaret Ramsay, daughter
and heiress of David Ramsay, our horologer, and a cadet only thrice
removed from the ancient house of Dalwolsey. We are grieved we cannot
have the presence of the noble Chief of that House at the ceremony; but
where there is honour to be won abroad the Lord Dalwolsey is seldom
to be found at home. _Sic fuit, est, et erit_.-Jingling Geordie, as ye
stand to the cost of the marriage feast, we look for good cheer."
Heriot bowed, as in duty bound. In fact, the king, who was a great
politician about trifles, had manoeuvred greatly on this occasion,
and had contrived to get the Prince and Buckingham dispatched on an
expedition to Newmarket, in order that he might find an opportunity in
their absence of indulging himself in his own gossiping, _coshering_
habits, which were distasteful to Charles, whose temper inclined to
formality, and with which even the favourite, of late, had not thought
it worth while to seem to sympathise. When the levee was dismissed, Sir
Mungo Malagrowther seized upon the worthy citizen in the court-yard
of the Palace, and detained him, in spite of all his efforts, for the
purpose of subjecting him to the following scrutiny:--
"This is a sair job on you, Master George--the king must have had little
consideration--this will cost you a bonny penny, this wedding dinner?"
"It will not break me, Sir Mungo," answered Heriot; "the king hath a
right to see the table which his bounty hath supplied for years, well
covered for a single day."
"Vera true, vera true--we'll have a' to pay, I doubt, less or mair--a
sort of penny-wedding it will prove, where all men contribute to the
young folk's maintenance, that they may not have just four bare legs in
a bed together. What do you propose to give, Master George?--we begin
with the city when money is in question." [Footnote: The penny-wedding
of the Scots, now disused even among the lowest ranks, was a peculiar
species of merry-making, at which, if the wedded pair were popular, the
guests who convened, contributed considerable sums under pretence of
paying for the bridal festivity, but in reality to set the married folk
afloat in the world.]
"Only a trifle, Sir Mungo--I give my god-daughter the marriage ring;
it is a curious jewel--I bought it in Italy; it belonged to Cosmo
de Medici. The bride will not need my help--she has an estate which
belonged to her maternal grandfather."
"The auld soap-boiler," said Sir Mungo; "it will need some of his suds
to scour the blot out of the Glenvarloch shield--I have heard that
estate was no great things."
"It is as good as some posts at Court, Sir Mungo, which are coveted by
persons of high quality," replied George Heriot.
"Court favour, said ye? Court favour, Master Heriot?" replied Sir Mungo,
choosing then to use his malady of misapprehension; "Moonshine in
water, poor thing, if that is all she is to be tochered with--I am truly
solicitous about them."
"I will let you into a secret," said the citizen, "which will relieve
your tender anxiety. The dowager Lady Dalgarno gives a competent fortune
to the bride, and settles the rest of her estate upon her nephew the
bridegroom."
"Ay, say ye sae?" said Sir Mungo, "just to show her regard to her
husband that is in the tomb--lucky that her nephew did not send him
there; it was a strange story that death of poor Lord Dalgarno--some
folk think the poor gentleman had much wrong. Little good comes of
marrying the daughter of the house you are at feud with; indeed, it was
less poor Dalgarno's fault, than theirs that forced the match on him;
but I am glad the young folk are to have something to live on, come how
it like, whether by charity or inheritance. But if the Lady Dalgarno
were to sell all she has, even to her very wylie-coat, she canna gie
them back the fair Castle of Glenvarloch--that is lost and gane--lost
and gane."
"It is but too true," said George Heriot; "we cannot discover what has
become of the villain Andrew Skurliewhitter, or what Lord Dalgarno has
done with the mortgage."
"Assigned it away to some one, that his wife might not get it after he
was gane; it would have disturbed him in his grave, to think Glenvarloch
should get that land back again," said Sir Mungo; "depend on it, he will
have ta'en sure measures to keep that noble lordship out of her grips or
her nevoy's either."
"Indeed it is but too probable, Sir Mungo," said Master Heriot; "but
as I am obliged to go and look after many things in consequence of this
ceremony, I must leave you to comfort yourself with the reflection."
"The bride-day, you say, is to be on the thirtieth of the instant
month?" said Sir Mungo, holloing after the citizen; "I will be with you
in the hour of cause."
"The king invites the guests," said George Heriot, without turning back.
"The base-born, ill-bred mechanic!" soliloquised Sir Mungo, "if it were
not the odd score of pounds he lent me last week, I would teach him how
to bear himself to a man of quality! But I will be at the bridal banquet
in spite of him."
Sir Mungo contrived to get invited, or commanded, to attend on the
bridal accordingly, at which there were but few persons present; for
James, on such occasions, preferred a snug privacy, which gave him
liberty to lay aside the encumbrance, as he felt it to be, of his regal
dignity. The company was very small, and indeed there were at least two
persons absent whose presence might have been expected. The first of
these was the Lady Dalgarno, the state of whose health, as well as the
recent death of her husband, precluded her attendance on the ceremony.
The other absentee was Richie Moniplies, whose conduct for some time
past had been extremely mysterious. Regulating his attendance on Lord
Glenvarloch entirely according to his own will and pleasure, he had,
ever since the rencounter in Enfield Chase, appeared regularly at his
bedside in the morning, to assist him to dress, and at his wardrobe in
the evening. The rest of the day he disposed of at his own pleasure,
without control from his lord, who had now a complete establishment of
attendants. Yet he was somewhat curious to know how the fellow disposed
of so much of his time; but on this subject Richie showed no desire to
be communicative.
On the morning of the bridal-day, Richie was particularly attentive in
doing all a valet-de-chambre could, so as to set off to advantage the
very handsome figure of his master; and when he had arranged his dress
to the utmost exactness, and put to his long curled locks what he called
"the finishing touch of the redding-kaim," he gravely kneeled down,
kissed his hand, and bade him farewell, saying that he humbly craved
leave to discharge himself of his lordship's service.
"Why, what humour is this?" said Lord Glenvarloch; "if you mean to
discharge yourself of my service, Richie, I suppose you intend to enter
my wife's?"
"I wish her good ladyship that shall soon be, and your good lordship,
the blessings of as good a servant as myself, in heaven's good time,"
said Richie; "but fate hath so ordained it, that I can henceforth only
be your servant in the way of friendly courtesy."
"Well, Richie," said the young lord, "if you are tired of service, we
will seek some better provision for you; but you will wait on me to the
church, and partake of the bridal dinner?"
"Under favour, my lord," answered Richie; "I must remind you of our
covenant, having presently some pressing business of mine own, whilk
will detain me during the ceremony; but I will not fail to prie Master
George's good cheer, in respect he has made very costly fare, whilk it
would be unthankful not to partake of."
"Do as you list," answered Lord Glenvarloch; and having bestowed a
passing thought on the whimsical and pragmatical disposition of his
follower, he dismissed the subject for others better suited to the day.
The reader must fancy the scattered flowers which strewed the path
of the happy couple to church--the loud music which accompanied the
procession--the marriage service performed by a bishop--the king, who
met them at Saint Paul's, giving away the bride,--to the great relief
of her father, who had thus time, during the ceremony, to calculate the
just quotient to be laid on the pinion of report in a timepiece which he
was then putting together.
When the ceremony was finished, the company were transported in the
royal carriages to George Heriot's, where a splendid collation was
provided for the marriage-guests in the Foljambe apartments. The king
no sooner found himself in this snug retreat, than, casting from him
his sword and belt with such haste as if they burnt his fingers, and
flinging his plumed hat on the table, as who should say, Lie there,
authority! he swallowed a hearty cup of wine to the happiness of the
married couple, and began to amble about the room, mumping, laughing,
and cracking jests, neither the wittiest nor the most delicate, but
accompanied and applauded by shouts of his own mirth, in order to
encourage that of the company. Whilst his Majesty was in the midst of
this gay humour, and a call to the banquet was anxiously expected,
a servant whispered Master Heriot forth of the apartment. When he
re-entered, he walked up to the king, and, in his turn whispered
something, at which James started.
"He is not wanting his siller?" said the king, shortly and sharply.
"By no means, my liege," answered Heriot. "It is a subject he states
himself as quite indifferent about, so long as it can pleasure your
Majesty."
"Body of us, man!" said the king, "it is the speech of a true man and a
loving subject, and we will grace him accordingly--what though he be
but a carle--a twopenny cat may look at a king. Swith, man! have
him--_pundite fores_.--Moniplies?--They should have called the chield
Monypennies, though I sall warrant you English think we have not such a
name in Scotland."
"It is an ancient and honourable stock, the Monypennies," said Sir Mungo
Malagrowther; "the only loss is, there are sae few of the name."
"The family seems to increase among your countrymen, Sir Mungo," said
Master Lowestoffe, whom Lord Glenvarloch had invited to be present,
"since his Majesty's happy accession brought so many of you here."
"Right, sir--right," said Sir Mungo, nodding and looking at George
Heriot; "there have some of ourselves been the better of that great
blessing to the English nation."
As he spoke, the door flew open, and in entered, to the astonishment
of Lord Glenvarloch, his late serving-man Richie Moniplies, now
sumptuously, nay, gorgeously, attired in a superb brocaded suit, and
leading in his hand the tall, thin, withered, somewhat distorted form
of Martha Trapbois, arrayed in a complete dress of black velvet,
which suited so strangely with the pallid and severe melancholy of her
countenance, that the king himself exclaimed, in some perturbation,
"What the deil has the fallow brought us here? Body of our regal selves!
it is a corpse that has run off with the mort-cloth!"
"May I sifflicate your Majesty to be gracious unto her?" said Richie;
"being that she is, in respect of this morning's wark, my ain wedded
wife, Mrs. Martha Moniplies by name."
"Saul of our body, man! but she looks wondrous grim," answered King
James. "Art thou sure she has not been in her time maid of honour to
Queen Mary, our kinswoman, of redhot memory?"
"I am sure, an it like your Majesty, that she has brought me fifty
thousand pounds of good siller, and better; and that has enabled me to
pleasure your Majesty, and other folk."
"Ye need have said naething about that, man," said the king; "we ken our
obligations in that sma' matter, and we are glad this rudas spouse of
thine hath bestowed her treasure on ane wha kens to put it to the profit
of his king and country.--But how the deil did ye come by her, man?"
"In the auld Scottish fashion, my liege. She is the captive of my bow
and my spear," answered Moniplies. "There was a convention that she
should wed me when I avenged her father's death--so I slew, and took
possession."
"It is the daughter of Old Trapbois, who has been missed so long," said
Lowestoffe.--"Where the devil could you mew her up so closely, friend
Richie?"
"Master Richard, if it be your will," answered Richie; "or Master
Richard Moniplies, if you like it better. For mewing of her up, I found
her a shelter, in all honour and safety, under the roof of an honest
countryman of my own--and for secrecy, it was a point of prudence, when
wantons like you were abroad, Master Lowestoffe."
There was a laugh at Richie's magnanimous reply, on the part of every
one but his bride, who made to him a signal of impatience, and said,
with her usual brevity and sternness,--"Peace--peace, I pray you, peace.
Let us do that which we came for." So saying, she took out a bundle of
parchments, and delivering them to Lord Glenvarloch, she said aloud,--"I
take this royal presence, and all here, to witness, that I restore the
ransomed lordship of Glenvarloch to the right owner, as free as ever it
was held by any of his ancestors."
"I witnessed the redemption of the mortgage," said Lowestoffe; "but I
little dreamt by whom it had been redeemed."
"No need ye should," said Richie; "there would have been small wisdom in
crying roast-meat."
"Peace," said his bride, "once more.--This paper," she continued,
delivering another to Lord Glenvarloch, "is also your property--take it,
but spare me the question how it came into my custody."
The king had bustled forward beside Lord Glenvarloch, and fixing an
eager eye on the writing, exclaimed--"Body of ourselves, it is our royal
sign-manual for the money which was so long out of sight!--How came you
by it, Mistress Bride?"
"It is a secret," said Martha, dryly.
"A secret which my tongue shall never utter," said Richie,
resolutely,--"unless the king commands me on my allegiance."
"I do--I do command you," said James, trembling and stammering with the
impatient curiosity of a gossip; while Sir Mungo, with more malicious
anxiety to get at the bottom of the mystery, stooped his long thin form
forward like a bent fishing-rod, raised his thin grey locks from his
ear, and curved his hand behind it to collect every vibration of the
expected intelligence. Martha in the meantime frowned most ominously on
Richie, who went on undauntedly to inform the king, "that his deceased
father-in-law, a good careful man in the main, had a' touch of worldly
wisdom about him, that at times marred the uprightness of his walk;
he liked to dabble among his neighbour's gear, and some of it would at
times stick to his fingers in the handling."
"For shame, man, for shame!" said Martha; "since the infamy of the
deed must be told, be it at least briefly.--Yes, my lord," she added,
addressing Glenvarloch, "the piece of gold was not the sole bait which
brought the miserable old man to your chamber that dreadful night--his
object, and he accomplished it, was to purloin this paper. The wretched
scrivener was with him that morning, and, I doubt not, urged the doting
old man to this villainy, to offer another bar to the ransom of your
estate. If there was a yet more powerful agent at the bottom of this
conspiracy, God forgive it to him at this moment, for he is now where
the crime must be answered!"
"Amen!" said Lord Glenvarloch, and it was echoed by all present.
"For my father," continued she, with her stern features twitched by an
involuntary and convulsive movement, "his guilt and folly cost him his
life; and my belief is constant, that the wretch, who counselled him
that morning to purloin the paper, left open the window for the entrance
of the murderers."
Every body was silent for an instant; the king was first to speak,
commanding search instantly to be made for the guilty scrivener.
"_I, lictor,_" he concluded, "_colliga manus--caput obnubito-infelici
suspendite arbori_."
Lowestoffe answered with due respect, that the scrivener had absconded
at the time of Lord Dalgarno's murder, and had not been heard of since.
"Let him be sought for," said the king. "And now let us change the
discourse--these stories make one's very blood grew, and are altogether
unfit for bridal festivity. Hymen, O Hymenee!" added he, snapping his
fingers, "Lord Glenvarloch, what say you to Mistress Moniplies, this
bonny bride, that has brought you back your father's estate on your
bridal day?"
"Let him say nothing, my liege," said Martha; "that will best suit his
feelings and mine."
"There is redemption-money, at the least, to be repaid," said Lord
Glenvarloch; "in that I cannot remain debtor."
"We will speak of it hereafter," said Martha; "_my_ debtor _you_ cannot
be." And she shut her mouth as if determined to say nothing more on the
subject.
Sir Mungo, however, resolved not to part with the topic, and availing
himself of the freedom of the moment, said to Richie--"A queer story
that of your father-in-law, honest man; methinks your bride thanked you
little for ripping it up."
"I make it a rule, Sir Mungo," replied Richie, "always to speak any evil
I know about my family myself, having observed, that if I do not, it is
sure to be told by ither folks."
"But, Richie," said Sir Mungo, "it seems to me that this bride of yours
is like to be master and mair in the conjugal state."
"If she abides by words, Sir Mungo," answered Richie, "I thank heaven I
can be as deaf as any one; and if she comes to dunts, I have twa hands
to paik her with."
"Weel said, Richie, again," said the king; "you have gotten it on baith
haffits, Sir Mungo.--Troth, Mistress Bride, for a fule, your gudeman has
a pretty turn of wit."
"There are fools, sire," replied she, "who have wit, and fools who
have courage--aye, and fools who have learning, and are great fools
notwithstanding.--I chose this man because he was my protector when
I was desolate, and neither for his wit nor his wisdom. He is truly
honest, and has a heart and hand that make amends for some folly. Since
I was condemned to seek a protector through the world, which is to me a
wilderness, I may thank God that I have come by no worse."
"And that is sae sensibly said," replied the king, "that, by my saul,
I'll try whether I canna make him better. Kneel down, Richie--somebody
lend me a rapier--yours, Mr. Langstaff, (that's a brave name for a
lawyer,)--ye need not flash it out that gate, Templar fashion, as if ye
were about to pink a bailiff!"
He took the drawn sword, and with averted eyes, for it was a sight he
loved not to look on, endeavoured to lay it on Richie's shoulder, but
nearly stuck it into his eye. Richie, starting back, attempted to rise,
but was held down by Lowestoffe, while Sir Mungo, guiding the royal
weapon, the honour-bestowing blow was given and received: "_Surge,
carnifex_--Rise up, Sir Richard Moniplies, of Castle-Collop!--And, my
lords and lieges, let us all to our dinner, for the cock-a-leekie is
cooling."
NOTES
Note I. p. l4.--DAVID RAMSAY
David Ramsay, watchmaker and horologer to James I., was a real person,
though the author has taken the liberty of pressing him into the service
of fiction. Although his profession led him to cultivate the exact
sciences, like many at this period he mingled them with pursuits which
were mystical and fantastic. The truth was, that the boundaries between
truth and falsehood in mathematics, astronomy, and similar pursuits,
were not exactly known, and there existed a sort of _terra incognita_
between them, in which the wisest men bewildered themselves. David
Ramsay risked his money on the success of the vaticinations which his
researches led him to form, since he sold clocks and watches under
condition, that their value should not become payable till King James
was crowned in the Pope's chair at Rome. Such wagers were common in that
day, as may be seen by looking at Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour.
David Ramsay was also an actor in another singular scene, in which the
notorious astrologer Lilly was a performer, and had no small expectation
on the occasion, since he brought with him a half-quartern sack to put
the treasure in.
"David Ramsay, his Majesty's clock-maker, had been informed that there
was a great quantity of treasure buried in the cloister of Westminster
Abbey. He acquaints Dean Withnam therewith, who was also then Bishop
of Lincoln. The Dean gave him liberty to search after it, with this
proviso, that if any was discovered, his church should have a share of
it. Davy Ramsay finds out one John Scott, who pretended the use of the
Mosaical rods, to assist him herein. [Footnote: The same now called,
I believe, the Divining Rod, and applied to the discovery of water
not obvious to the eye.] I was desired to join with him, unto which
I consented. One winter's night, Davy Ramsay, with several gentlemen,
myself, and Scott, entered the cloisters. We played the hazel rods round
about the cloisters. Upon the west end of the cloisters the rods turned
one over another, an argument that the treasure was there. The labourers
digged at least six feet deep, and then we met with a coffin; but which,
in regard it was not heavy, we did not open, which we afterwards much
repented.
"From the cloisters we went into the abbey church, where, upon a
sudden, (there being no wind when we began,) so fierce and so high, so
blustering and loud a wind did rise, that we verily believed the west
end of the church would have fallen upon us. Our rods would not move at
all; the candles and torches, also, but one were extinguished, or burned
very dimly. John Scott, my partner, was amazed, looked pale, knew not
what to think or do, until I gave directions and command to dismiss the
demons; which, when done, all was quiet again, and each man returned
unto his lodging late, about twelve o'clock at night. I could never
since be induced to join with any such like actions.
"The true miscarriage of the business was by reason of so many people
being present at the operation; for there was about thirty, some
laughing, others deriding us; so that, if we had not dismissed the
demons, I believe most part of the abbey church would have been blown
down. Secrecy and intelligent operators, with a strong confidence and
knowledge of what they are doing, are best for the work."--LILLY'S _Life
and Times_, p. 46.
David Ramsay had a son called William Ramsay, who appears to have
possessed all his father's credulity. He became an astrologer, and in
1651-2 published "_Vox Stellarum_, an Introduction to the Judgment of
Eclipses and the Annual Revolutions of the World." The edition of 1652
is inscribed, to his father. It would appear, as indeed it might be
argued from his mode of disposing of his goods, that the old horologer
had omitted to make hay while the sun shone; for his son, in his
dedication, has this exception to the paternal virtues, "It's true your
carelessness in laying up while the sun shone for the tempests of a
stormy day, hath given occasion to some inferior spirited people not to
value you according to what you are by nature and in yourself, for such
look not to a man longer than he is in prosperity, esteeming none
but for their wealth, not wisdom, power, nor virtue." From these
expressions, it is to be apprehended that while old David Ramsay, a
follower of the Stewarts, sunk under the Parliamentary government, his
son, William, had advanced from being a dupe to astrology to the dignity
of being himself a cheat.
Note II. p. 27.-GEORGE HERIOT
This excellent person was but little known by his actions when alive,
but we may well use, in this particular, the striking phrase of
Scripture, "that being dead he yet speaketh." We have already mentioned,
in the Introduction, the splendid charity of which he was the founder;
the few notices of his personal history are slight and meagre.
George Heriot was born at Trabroun, in the parish of Gladsmuir; he was
the eldest son of a goldsmith in Edinburgh, descended from a family of
some consequence in East Lothian. His father enjoyed the confidence of
his fellow-citizens, and was their representative in Parliament. He
was, besides, one of the deputies sent by the inhabitants of the city to
propitiate the King, when he had left Edinburgh abruptly, after the riot
of 17th December, 1596.
George Heriot, the son, pursued his father's occupation of a
goldsmith, then peculiarly lucrative, and much connected with that of a
money-broker. He enjoyed the favour and protection of James, and of his
consort, Anne of Denmark. He married, for his first wife, a maiden of
his own rank, named Christian Marjoribanks, daughter of a respectable
burgess. This was in 1586. He was afterwards named jeweller to the
Queen, whose account to him for a space of ten years amounted to nearly
L40,000. George Heriot, having lost his wife, connected himself with
the distinguished house of Rosebery, by marrying a daughter of James
Primrose, Clerk to the Privy Council. Of this lady he was deprived by
her dying in child-birth in 1612, before attaining her twenty-first
year. After a life spent in honourable and successful industry, George
Heriot died in London, to which city he had followed his royal master,
on the 12th February, 1624, at the age of sixty-one years. His picture,
(copied by Scougal from a lost original,) in which he is represented in
the prime of life, is thus described: "His fair hair, which overshades
the thoughtful brow and calm calculating eye, with the cast of humour
on the lower part of the countenance, are all indicative of the genuine
Scottish character, and well distinguish a person fitted to move
steadily and wisely through the world, with a strength of resolution
to ensure success, and a disposition to enjoy it."--_Historical and
Descriptive Account of Heriot's Hospital, with a Memoir of the Founder,
by Messrs James and John Johnstone._ Edinburgh, 1827.
I may add, as every thing concerning George Heriot is interesting,
that his second wife, Alison Primrose, was interred in Saint Gregory's
Church, from the register of which parish the Rev. Mr. Barham, Rector,
has, in the kindest manner, sent me the following extract:--"Mrs.
Alison, the wife of Mr. George Heriot, gentleman, 20th April, 1612."
Saint Gregory's, before the Great Fire of London which consumed the
Cathedral, formed one of the towers of old Saint Paul's, and occupied
the space of ground now filled by Queen Anne's statue. In the south
aisle of the choir Mrs. Heriot reposed under a handsome monument,
bearing the following inscription:--
_"Sanctissimae et charissimae conjugi ALISONAE HERIOT, Jacobi Primrosii,
Regia Majestatis in Sanctiori Concilio Regni Scotia Amanuensis,
filiae, fernina omnibus turn animi turn corporis dotibus, ac pio cultu
instructissimae, maestissimus ipsius maritus GEORGIUS HERIOT, ARMIGER,
Regis, Reginae, Principum Henrici et Caroli Gemmarius, bene merenti, non
sine lachrymis, hoc Monumentum pie posuit.
"Obiit Mensis Aprilis die 16, anno salutis 1612, aetatis 20, in
ipso flore juventae, et mihi, parentibus, et amicis tristissimum sui
desiderium reliquit.
Hic Alicia Primrosa
Jacet crudo abruta fato,
Intempestivas
Ut rosa pressa manus.
Nondum bisdenos
Annorum impleverat orbes,
Pulchra, pudica,
Patris delicium atque viri:
Quum gravida, heu! Nunquam
Mater, decessit, et inde
Cura dolorq: Patri,
Cura dolorq: viro.
Non sublata tamen
Tantum translata recessit;
Nunc Rosa prima Poli
Quae fuit antea soli."_
The loss of a young, beautiful, and amiable partner, at a period so
interesting, was the probable reason of her husband devoting his fortune
to a charitable institution. The epitaph occurs in Strype's edition of
_Stewe's Survey of London_, Book iii., page 228.
Note III. p. 39.--PROCLAMATION AGAINST THE SCOTS COMING TO ENGLAND
The English agreed in nothing more unanimously than in censuring James
on account of the beggarly rabble which not only attended the King at
his coming first out of Scotland, "but," says Osborne, "which, through
his whole reign, like a fluent spring, were found still crossing the
Tweed." Yet it is certain, from the number of proclamations published
by the Privy Council in Scotland, and bearing marks of the King's
own diction, that he was sensible of the whole inconveniences and
unpopularity attending the importunate crowd of disrespectable suitors,
and as desirous to get rid of them as his Southern subjects could be.
But it was in vain that his Majesty argued with his Scottish subjects on
the disrespect they were bringing on their native country and sovereign,
by causing the English to suppose there were no well-nurtured or
independent gentry in Scotland, they who presented themselves being, in
the opinion and conceit of all beholders, "but idle rascals, and poor
miserable bodies." It was even in vain that the vessels which brought
up this unwelcome cargo of petitioners were threatened with fine and
confiscation; the undaunted suitors continued to press forward, and, as
one of the proclamations says, many of them under pretence of requiring
payment of "auld debts due to them by the King," which, it is observed
with great _naivete_, "is, of all kinds of importunity, most unpleasing
to his Majesty." The expressions in the text are selected from these
curious proclamations.
NOTE IV. p. 59.--KING JAMES
The dress of this monarch, together with his personal appearance, is
thus described by a contemporary:--
"He was of a middle stature, more corpulent through [i.e. by means of]
his clothes than in his body, yet fat enough. His legs were very weak,
having had, as was thought, some foul play in his youth, or rather
before he was born, that he was not able to stand at seven years of age.
That weakness made him ever leaning on other men's shoulders. His walk
was even circular; his hands are in that walk ever fiddling about----[a
part of dress now laid aside]. He would make a great deal too bold with
God in his passion, both with cursing and swearing, and a strain higher
verging on blasphemy; but would, in his better temper, say, he hoped God
would not impute them as sins, and lay them to his charge, seeing they
proceeded from passion. He had need of great assistance, rather than
hope, that would daily make thus bold with God."--DALZELL'S _Sketches of
Scottish History _, p. 86.
NOTE V. p. 78.--SIR MUNGO MALAGROWTHER
It will perhaps be recognised by some of my countrymen, that the caustic
Scottish knight, as described in the preceding chapter, borrowed some of
his attributes from a most worthy and respectable baronet, who was to be
met with in Edinburgh society about twenty-five or thirty years ago. It
is not by any means to be inferred, that the living person resembled the
imaginary one in the course of life ascribed to him, or in his personal
attributes. But his fortune was little adequate to his rank and the
antiquity of his family; and, to avenge himself of this disparity, the
worthy baronet lost no opportunity of making the more avowed sons of
fortune feel the edge of his satire. This he had the art of disguising
under the personal infirmity of deafness, and usually introduced his
most severe things by an affected mistake of what was said around
him. For example, at a public meeting of a certain county, this worthy
gentleman had chosen to display a laced coat, of such a pattern as had
not been seen in society for the better part of a century. The young men
who were present amused themselves with rallying him on his taste,
when he suddenly singled out one of the party:--"Auld d'ye think my
coat--auld-fashioned?--indeed it canna be new; but it was the wark of a
braw tailor, and that was your grandfather, who was at the head of the
trade in Edinburgh about the beginning of last century." Upon another
occasion, when this type of Sir Mungo Malagrowther happened to hear a
nobleman, the high chief of one of those Border clans who were accused
of paying very little attention in ancient times to the distinctions
of _Meum_ and _Tuum,_ addressing a gentleman of the same name, as
if conjecturing there should be some relationship between them, he
volunteered to ascertain the nature of the connexion by saying, that
the "chief's ancestors had _stolen_ the cows, and the other gentleman's
ancestors had _killed_ them,"--fame ascribing the origin of the latter
family to a butcher. It may be well imagined, that among a people that
have been always punctilious about genealogy, such a person, who had a
general acquaintance with all the flaws and specks in the shields of the
proud, the pretending, and the nouveaux riches, must have had the same
scope for amusement as a monkey in a china shop.
Note VI. p. 98.--MRS. ANNE TURNER
Mrs. Anne Turner was a dame somewhat of the occupation of Mrs.
Suddlechop in the text; that is, half milliner half procuress, and
secret agent in all manner of proceedings. She was a trafficker in the
poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury, for which so many subordinate agents
lost their lives, while, to the great scandal of justice, the Earl of
Somerset and his Countess were suffered to escape, upon a threat of
Somerset to make public some secret which nearly affected his master,
King James. Mrs. Turner introduced into England a French custom of using
yellow starch in getting up bands and cuffs, and, by Lord Coke's orders,
she appeared in that fashion at the place of execution. She was the
widow of a physician, and had been eminently beautiful, as appears from
the description of her in the poem called Overbury's Vision. There was
produced in court a parcel of dolls or puppets belonging to this lady,
some naked, some dressed, and which she used for exhibiting fashions
upon. But, greatly to the horror of the spectators, who accounted these
figures to be magical devices, there was, on their being shown, "heard a
crack from the scaffold, which caused great fear, tumult, and confusion,
among the spectators and throughout the hall, every one fearing hurt, as
if the devil had been present, and grown angry to have his workmanship
showed to such as were not his own scholars." Compare this curious
passage in the History of King James for the First Fourteen Years, 1651,
with the Aulicus Coquinarius of Dr. Heylin. Both works are published in
the Secret History of King James.
Note VII. p. 110.--LORD HUNTINGLEN
The credit of having rescued James I. from the dagger of Alexander
Ruthven, is here fictitiously ascribed to an imaginary Lord Huntinglen.
In reality, as may be read in every history, his preserver was John
Ramsay, afterwards created Earl of Holderness, who stabbed the younger
Ruthven with his dagger while he was struggling with the King. Sir
Anthony Weldon informs us, that, upon the annual return of the day, the
King's deliverance was commemorated by an anniversary feast. The time
was the fifth of August, "upon which," proceeds the satirical historian,
"Sir John Ramsay, for his good service in that preservation, was the
principal guest, and so did the King grant him any boon he would ask
that day. But he had such limitation made to his asking, as made his
suit as unprofitable, as the action for which he asked it for was
unserviceable to the King."
Note VIII. p. 115.--BUCKINGHAM
Buckingham, who had a frankness in his high and irascible ambition,
was always ready to bid defiance to those by whom he was thwarted or
opposed. He aspired to be created Prince of Tipperary in Ireland, and
Lord High Constable of England. Coventry, then Lord Keeper, opposed what
seemed such an unreasonable extent of power as was annexed to the office
of Constable. On this opposition, according to Sir Anthony Weldon,
"the Duke peremptorily accosted Coventry, 'Who made you Lord Keeper,
Coventry?' He replied, 'The King.' Buckingham replied, 'It's false;
'twas I did make you, and you shall know that I, who made you, can, and
will, unmake you.' Coventry thus answered him, 'Did I conceive that
I held my place by your favour, I would presently unmake myself, by
rendering up the seals to his Majesty.' Then Buckingham, in a scorn and
fury, flung from him, saying, 'You shall not keep it long;' and surely,
had not Felton prevented him, he had made good his word."--WELDON'S
_Court of King James and Charles._
Note IX. p. 134.--PAGES IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
About this time the ancient customs arising from the long prevalence of
chivalry, began to be grossly varied from the original purposes of the
institution. None was more remarkable than the change which took place
in the breeding and occupation of pages. This peculiar species of menial
originally consisted of youths of noble birth, who, that they might be
trained to the exercise of arms, were early removed from their paternal
homes, where too much indulgence might have been expected, to be placed
in the family of some prince or man of rank and military renown, where
they served, as it were, an apprenticeship to the duties of chivalry
and courtesy. Their education was severely moral, and pursued with great
strictness in respect to useful exercises, and what were deemed elegant
accomplishments. From being pages, they were advanced to the next
gradation of squires; from squires, these candidates for the honours of
knighthood were frequently made knights.
But in the sixteenth century the page had become, in many instances,
a mere domestic, who sometimes, by the splendour of his address and
appearance, was expected to make up in show for the absence of a whole
band of retainers with swords and bucklers. We have Sir John's authority
when he cashiers part of his train.
"Falstaff will learn the humour of the age,
French thrift, you rogues, myself and skirted page."
Jonson, in a high tone of moral indignation, thus reprobated the change.
The Host of the New Inn replies to Lord Lovel, who asks to have his son
for a page, that he would, with his own hands hang him, sooner
"Than damn him to this desperate course of life.
_LOVEL._ Call you that desperate, which, by a line
Of institution, from our ancestors
Hath been derived down to us, and received
In a succession, for the noblest way
Of brushing up our youth, in letters, arms,
Fair mien, discourses civil, exercise,
And all the blazon of a gentleman?
Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to fence,
To move his body gracefully, to speak
The language pure, or to turn his mind
Or manners more to the harmony of nature,
Than in these nurseries of nobility?
_HOST._ Ay, that was when the nursery's self was noble,
And only virtue made it, not the market,
That titles were not vended at the drum
And common outcry; goodness gave the greatness,
And greatness worship; every house became
An academy, and those parts
We see departed in the practice now
Quite from the institution.
_LOVEL._ Why do you say so,
Or think so enviously? do they not still
Learn us the Centaur's skill, the art of Thrace,
To ride? or Pollux' mystery, to fence?
The Pyrrhick gestures, both to stand and spring
In armour; to be active for the wars;
To study figures, numbers and proportions,
May yield them great in counsels and the art;
To make their English sweet upon their tongue?
As reverend Chaucer says.
_HOST._ Sir, you mistake;
To play Sir Pandarus, my copy hath it,
And carry messages to Madam Cressid;
Instead of backing the brave steed o'mornings.
To kiss the chambermaid, and for a leap
O' the vaulting horse, to ply the vaulting house;
For exercise of arms a bale of dice,
And two or three packs of cards to show the cheat
And nimbleness of hand; mistake a cloak
From my lord's back, and pawn it; ease his pockets
Of a superfluous watch, or geld a jewel
Of an odd stone or so; twinge three or four buttons
From off my lady's gown: These are the arts,
Or seven liberal deadly sciences,
Of pagery, or rather paganism,
As the tides run; to which, if he apply him,
He may, perhaps, take a degree at Tyburn,
A year the earlier come to read a lecture
Upon Aquinas, at Saint Thomas-a-Watering's
And so go forth a laureate in hemp-circle."
The New Inn, Act I.
Note X. p. 135.--LORD HENRY HOWARD
Lord Henry Howard was the second son of the poetical Earl of Surrey, and
possessed considerable parts and learning. He wrote, in the year 1583, a
book called, _A Defensative against the Poison of supposed Prophecies._
He gained the favour of Queen Elizabeth, by having, he says, directed
his battery against a sect of prophets and pretended soothsayers, whom
he accounted _infesti regibus,_ as he expresses it. In the last years
of the Queen, he became James's most ardent partisan, and conducted
with great pedantry, but much intrigue, the correspondence betwixt the
Scottish King and the younger Cecil. Upon James's accession, he was
created Earl of Northampton, and Lord Privy Seal. According to De
Beaumont the French Ambassador, Lord Henry Howard, was one of the
greatest flatterers and calumniators that ever lived.
Note XI. p. 136.--SKIRMISHES IN THE PUBLIC STREETS
Edinburgh appears to have been one of the most disorderly towns in
Europe, during the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century.
The Diary of the honest citizen Birrel, repeatedly records such
incidents as the following: "The 24 of November (1567), at two
afternoon, the Laird of Airth and the Laird of Weems met on the High
Gate of Edinburgh, and they and their followers fought a very bloody
skirmish, where there were many hurt on both sides with shot of pistol."
These skirmishes also took place in London itself. In Shadwell's play of
_The Scowrers,_ an old rake thus boasts of his early exploits:--"I knew
the Hectors, and before them the Muns, and the Tityretu's; they were
brave fellows indeed! In these days, a man could not go from the Rose
Garden to the Piazza once, but he must venture his life twice, my dear
Sir Willie." But it appears that the affrays, which, in the Scottish
capital, arose out of hereditary quarrels and ancient feuds, were
in London the growth of the licentiousness and arrogance of young
debauchees.
Note XII. p. 144.--FRENCH COOKERY
The exertion of French ingenuity mentioned in the text is noticed
by some authorities of the period; the siege of Leith was also
distinguished by the protracted obstinacy of the besieged, in which was
displayed all that the age possessed of defensive war, so that Brantome
records that those who witnessed this siege, had, from that very
circumstance, a degree of consequence yielded to their persons and
opinions. He tells a story of Strozzi himself, from which it appears
that his jests lay a good deal in the line of the cuisine. He caused a
mule to be stolen from one Brusquet, on whom he wished to play a trick,
and served up the flesh of that unclean animal so well disguised, that
it passed with Brusquet for venison.
Note XIII. p. 145.--CUCKOO'S NEST
The quarrel in this chapter between the pretended captain and the
citizen of London, is taken from a burlesque poem called The Counter
Scuffle, that is, the Scuffle in the Prison at Wood street, so called.
It is a piece of low humour, which had at the time very considerable
vogue. The prisoners, it seems, had fallen into a dispute amongst
themselves "which calling was of most repute," and a lawyer put in his
claim to be most highly considered. The man of war repelled his pretence
with much arrogance.
"'Wer't not for us, thou swad,' quoth he,
'Where wouldst thou fay to get a fee?
But to defend such things as thee
'Tis pity;
For such as you esteem us least,
Who ever have been ready prest
To guard you and your cuckoo's nest,
The City'"
The offence is no sooner given than it is caught up by a gallant
citizen, a goldsmith, named Ellis.
"'Of London city I am free,
And there I first my wife did see,
And for that very cause,' said he,
'I love it.
And he that calls it cuckoo's nest,
Except he say he speaks in jest,
He is a villain and a beast,--
'I'll prove it!
For though I am a man of trade,
And free of London city made,
Yet can I use gun, bill, and blade,
In battle.
And citizens, if need require,
Themselves can force the foe retire,
Whatever this low country squire
May prattle.'"
The dispute terminates in the scuffle, which is the subject of the poem.
The whole may be found in the second edition of Dryden's _Miscellany,_
12mo, vol. iii. 1716.
Note XIV. p. 150.--BURBAGE
Burbage, whom Camden terms another Roscius, was probably the original
representative of Richard III., and seems to have been early almost
identified with his prototype. Bishop Corbet, in his Iter Boreale, tells
us that mine host of Market Bosworth was full of ale and history.
"Hear him, See you yon wood? there Richard lay
With his whole army; look the other way,
And lo, where Richmond, in a field of gorse,
Encamp'd himself in might and all his force.
Upon this hill they met. Why, he could tell
The inch where Richmond stood, where Richard fell;
Besides, what of his knowledge he could say,
He had authentic notice from the play,
Which I might guess by's mustering up the ghosts
And policies not incident to hosts;
But chiefly by that one perspicuous thing,
Where he mistook a player for a king,
For when he would have said, that Richard died,
And call'd, a horse! a horse! he Burbage cried."
RICHARD CORBET'S _Poems, Edition 1815,_ p. 193.
Note XV. p. 323.--MHIC-ALLASTAR-MORE
This is the Highland patronymic of the late gallant Chief of Glengarry.
The allusion in the text is to an unnecessary alarm taken by some lady,
at the ceremonial of the coronation of George IV., at the sight of
the pistols which the Chief wore as a part of his Highland dress. The
circumstance produced some confusion, which was talked of at the time.
All who knew Glengarry (and the author knew him well) were aware that
his principles were of devoted loyalty to the person of his sovereign.
Note XVI. p. 323.--KING JAMES'S HUNTING BOTTLE
Roger Coke, in his Detection of the Court and State of England, London,
1697, p.70, observes of James I., "The king was excessively addicted to
hunting, and drinking, not ordinary French and Spanish wines, but strong
Greek wines, and thought he would compound his hunting with these wines;
and to that purpose, he was attended by a special officer, who was, as
much as he could be, always at hand to fill the King's cup in hunting
when he called for it. I have heard my father say, that, hunting with
the King, after the King had drank of the wine, he also drank of it; and
though he was young, and of a healthful disposition, it so deranged
his head that it spoiled his pleasure and disordered him for three days
after. Whether it was from drinking these wines, or from some other
cause, the King became so lazy and so unwieldy, that he was trussed on
horseback, and as he was set, so would he ride, without stirring himself
in the saddle; nay, when his hat was set upon his head he would not take
the trouble to alter it, but it sate as it was put on."
The trussing, for which the demipique saddle of the day afforded
particular facility, is alluded to in the text; and the author, among
other nickcnacks of antiquity, possesses a leathern flask, like those
carried by sportsmen, which is labelled, "King James's Hunting Bottle,"
with what authenticity is uncertain. Coke seems to have exaggerated the
King's taste for the bottle. Welldon says James was not intemperate in
his drinking; "However, in his old age, Buckingham's jovial suppers,
when he had any turn to do with him, made him sometimes overtaken, which
he would the next day remember, and repent with tears. It is true he
drank very often, which was rather out of a custom than any delight; and
his drinks were of that kind for strength, as Frontiniack, Canary, high
country wine, tent wine, and Scottish ale, that had he not had a very
strong brain, he might have been daily overtaken, though he seldom
drank at any one time above four spoonfuls, many times not above one or
two."--_Secret History of King James,_ vol. ii., p. 3. Edin. 1811.
Note XVII. p. 325.--SCENE IN GREENWICH PARK
I cannot here omit mentioning, that a painting of the old school is in
existence, having a remarkable resemblance to the scene described in the
foregoing chapter, although it be nevertheless true that the similarity
is in all respects casual, and that the author knew not of the existence
of the painting till it was sold, amongst others, with the following
description attached to it in a well-drawn-up catalogue:
"FREDERIGO ZUCCHERO
_"Scene as represented in the Fortunes of Nigel, by Frederigo
Zucchero, the King's painter._
"This extraordinary picture, which, independent of its pictorial merit,
has been esteemed a great literary curiosity, represents most faithfully
the meeting, in Greenwich Park, between King James and Nigel Oliphaunt,
as described in the Fortunes of Nigel, showing that the author must
have taken the anecdote from authenticated facts. In the centre of the
picture sits King James on horseback, very erect and stiffly. Between
the King and Prince Charles, who is on the left of the picture, the Duke
of Buckingham is represented riding a black horse, and pointing eagerly
towards the culprit, Nigel Olifaunt, who is standing on the right side
of the picture. He grasps with his right hand a gun, or crossbow, and
looks angrily towards the King, who seems somewhat confused and alarmed.
Behind Nigel, his servant is restraining two dogs which are barking
fiercely. Nigel and his servant are both clothed in red, the livery of
the Oliphaunt family in which, to this day, the town-officers of Perth
are clothed, there being an old charter, granting to the Oliphaunt
family, the privilege of dressing the public officers of Perth in their
livery. The Duke of Buckingham is in all respects equal in magnificence
of dress to the King or the Prince. The only difference that is marked
between him and royalty is, that his head is uncovered. The King and the
Prince wear their hats. In Letitia Aikin's Memoirs of the Reign of
King James, will be found a letter from Sir Thomas Howard to Lord
L. Harrington, in which he recommends the latter to come to court,
mentioning that his Majesty has spoken favourably of him. He then
proceeds to give him some advice, by which he is likely to find favour
in the King's eyes. He tells him to wear a bushy ruff, well starched;
and after various other directions as to his dress, he concludes, 'but
above all things fail not to praise the roan jennet whereon the King
doth daily ride.' In this picture King James is represented on the
identical roan jennet. In the background of the picture are seen two
or three suspicious-looking figures, as if watching the success of some
plot. These may have been put in by the painter, to flatter the King,
by making it be supposed that he had actually escaped, or successfully
combated, some serious plot. The King is attended by a numerous band of
courtiers and attendants, all of whom seem moving forward to arrest
the defaulter. The painting of this picture is extremely good, but
the drawing is very Gothic, and there is no attempt at the keeping of
perspective. The picture is very dark and obscure, which considerably
adds to the interest of the scene."
Note XVIII. p. 325.--KING JAMES'S TIMIDITY
The fears of James for his personal safety were often excited without
serious grounds. On one occasion, having been induced to visit a
coal-pit on the coast of Fife, he was conducted a little way under the
sea, and brought to daylight again on a small island, or what was such
at full tide, down which a shaft had been sunk. James, who conceived his
life or liberty aimed at, when he found himself on an islet surrounded
by the sea, instead of admiring, as his cicerone hoped, the unexpected
change of scene, cried TREASON with all his might, and could not be
pacified till he was rowed ashore. At Lockmaben he took an equally
causeless alarm from a still slighter circumstance. Some vendisses,
a fish peculiar to the Loch, were presented to the royal table as a
delicacy; but the King, who was not familiar with their appearance,
concluded they were poisoned, and broke up the banquet "with most
admired disorder."
Note XIX. p. 328.--TRAITOR'S GATE
Traitor's Gate, which opens from the Tower of London to the Thames, was,
as its name implies, that by which persons accused of state offences
were conveyed to their prison. When the tide is making, and the ancient
gate is beheld from within the buildings, it used to be a most striking
part of the old fortress; but it is now much injured in appearance,
being half built up with masonry to support a steam-engine, or something
of that sort.
Note XX. p. 361.--PUNISHMENT OF STUBBS BY MUTILATION
This execution, which so captivated the imagination of Sir Mungo
Malagrowther, was really a striking one. The criminal, a furious and
bigoted Puritan, had published a book in very violent terms against the
match of Elizabeth with the Duke of Alencon, which he termed an union of
a daughter of God with a son of antichrist. Queen Elizabeth was greatly
incensed at the freedom assumed in this work, and caused the author
Stubbs, with Page the publisher, and one Singleton the printer, to
be tried on an act passed by Philip and Mary against the writers and
dispersers of seditious publications. They were convicted, and although
there was an opinion strongly entertained by the lawyers, that the
act was only temporary, and expired with Queen Mary, Stubbs and Page
received sentence to have their right hands struck off. They accordingly
suffered the punishment, the wrist being divided by a cleaver driven
through the joint by force of a mallet. The printer was pardoned. "I
remember," says the historian Camden, "being then present, that Stubbs,
when his right hand was cut off, plucked off his hat with the left, and
said, with a loud voice, 'God save the Queen!' The multitude standing
about was deeply silent, either out of horror of this new and unwonted
kind of punishment, or out of commiseration towards the man, as being of
an honest and unblamable repute, or else out of hatred to the marriage,
which most men presaged would be the overthrow of religion."-CAMDBN'S
_Annals for the Year_ 1581.
Note XXI. p. 375.--RlCHIE MONIPLIES BEHIND THE ARRAS
The practical jest of Richie Moniplies going behind the arras to get an
opportunity of teasing Heriot, was a pleasantry such as James might be
supposed to approve of. It was customary for those who knew his humour
to contrive jests of this kind for his amusement. The celebrated Archie
Armstrong, and another jester called Drummond, mounted on other people's
backs, used to charge each other like knights in the tilt-yard, to the
monarch's great amusement. The following is an instance of the same
kind, taken from Webster upon Witchcraft. The author is speaking of the
faculty called ventriloquism.
But to make this more plain and certain, we shall add a story of a
notable impostor, or ventriloquist, from the testimony of Mr. Ady, which
we have had confirmed from the mouth of some courtiers, that both saw
and knew him, and is this:--It hath been (saith he) credibly reported,
that there was a man in the court of King James his days, that could act
this imposture so lively, that he could call the King by name, and cause
the King to look round about him, wondering who it was that called him,
whereas he that called him stood before him in his presence, with his
face towards him. But after this imposture was known, the King, in his
merriment, would sometimes take occasionally this impostor to make sport
upon some of his courtiers, as, for instance:--
"There was a knight belonging to the court, whom the King caused to come
before him in his private room, (where no man was but the King, and this
knight and the impostor,) and feigned some occasion of serious discourse
with the knight; but when the King began to speak and the knight bending
his attention to the King, suddenly there came a voice as out of another
room, calling the knight by name, 'Sir John, Sir John; come away,
Sir John;' at which the knight began to frown that any man should be
unmannerly as to molest the King and him; and still listening to the
King's discourse, the voice came again, 'Sir John, Sir John; come away
and drink off your sack.' At that Sir John began to swell with anger,
and looked into the next room to see who it was that dared to call him
so importunately, and could not find out who it was, and having chid
with whomsoever he found, he returned again to the King. The King had no
sooner begun to speak as formerly, but the voice came again, 'Sir John,
come away, your sack stayeth for you.' At that Sir John began to stamp
with madness, and looked out and returned several times to the King, but
could not be quiet in his discourse with the King, because of the voice
that so often troubled him, till the king had sported enough."--WEBSTER
_on Witchcraft_, p. 124.
Note XXII. p. 393.--LADY LAKE.
Whether out of a meddling propensity common to all who have a gossiping
disposition, or from the love of justice, which ought to make part of a
prince's character, James was very fond of enquiring personally into the
causes _celebres_ which occurred during his reign. In the imposture of
the Boy of Bilson, who pretended to be possessed, and of one Richard
Haydock, a poor scholar, who pretended to preach during his sleep, the
King, to use the historian Wilson's expression, took delight in
sounding with the line of his understanding, the depths of these brutish
impositions, and in doing so, showed the acuteness with which he was
endowed by Nature. Lady Lake's story consisted in a clamorous complaint
against the Countess of Exeter, whom she accused of a purpose to put to
death Lady Lake herself, and her daughter, Lady Ross, the wife of the
Countess's own son-in-law, Lord Ross; and a forged letter was produced,
in which Lady Exeter was made to acknowledge such a purpose. The account
given of the occasion of obtaining this letter, was, that it had been
written by the Countess at Wimbledon, in presence of Lady Lake and her
daughter, Lady Ross, being designed to procure their forgiveness for her
mischievous intention. The King remained still unsatisfied, the writing,
in his opinion, bearing some marks of forgery. Lady Lake and her
daughter then alleged, that, besides their own attestation, and that of
a confidential domestic, named Diego, in whose presence Lady Exeter had
written the confession, their story might also be supported by the oath
of their waiting-maid, who had been placed behind the hangings at the
time the letter was written, and heard the Countess of Exeter read over
the confession after she had signed it. Determined to be at the bottom
of this accusation, James, while hunting one day near Wimbledon, the
scene of the alleged confession, suddenly left his sport, and,
galloping hastily to Wimbledon, in order to examine personally the
room, discovered, from the size of the apartment, that the alleged
conversation could not have taken place in the manner sworn to; and that
the tapestry of the chamber, which had remained in the same state for
thirty years, was too short by two feet, and, therefore, could not have
concealed any one behind it. This matter was accounted an exclusive
discovery of the King by his own spirit of shrewd investigation. The
parties were punished in the Star Chamber by fine and imprisonment.
_A,' all. BELDAM, ugly old woman.
ABYE, suffer for. BELIVE, by-and-by, presently.
ACCIDENS, grammar. BENEVOLENCES, taxes illegally
AIGRE, sour, ill-natured. exacted by the Kings of
AIN GATE, own way. England.
A' LEEVING, all living. BIDE, keep, remain.
AMBLE, a peculiar gait of a BIELDY BIT, sheltered spot.
horse, in which both legs on BIGGING, building.
one side are moved forward BILBOE, sword, rapier.
at the same time. BILLIES, brothers.
ANCE, once. BIRKIE, lively young fellow.
ANENT, concerning. BLACK-JACK, leathern drinking-
ANGEL, an ancient English gold cup.
coin, worth about 10s., and BLADES, dashing fellows, rakes.
bearing the figure of an angel. BLATE, modest, bashful.
ARRAS, tapestry. BLETHERING, foolish, silly.
AUGHT, owe. BLITHE, BLYTHE, glad.
AULD, old. BLUE-COATS, lackeys.
AULD REEKIE, Edinburgh, in BODDLE, a copper coin, value
allusion to its smoke. the sixth part of an English
AVISEMENT, counsel. penny.
AW, all. BODE, bid, offer.
AWMOUS, alms, a gift. BOOKIE, book.
BRAE, hill, hill-side. BANGED,
sprang, bounded.
BRAVE PIECE, fine thing.
BARNACLES, spectacles. BRAW, fine, handsome.
BARNS-BREAKING, idle frolics. BREAKING, kneading.
BAWBEE, halfpenny. BREEKS, breeches, trousers.
BAXTER, baker. BROCHES, kitchen spits.
BEAR-BANNOCKS, barley cakes. BROSE, pottage of mean and
BECKING, curtseying. water.
BECKS, nods. BROWNIE, domestic goblin.
BEECHEN BICKERS, dishes of BUCKET, cheat.
beechwood. BUNEMOST, uppermost.
BURROWS-TOWN, borough-town.
BUSS, kiss.
CALF-WARD, place where calves are kept in the field.
CALLAN, CALLANT, lad.
CANNILY, cautiously, skilfully.
CANNY, quiet.
CANTLE, crown of the head.
CARCANET, necklace.
CARLE, fellow.
CARLE-HEMPIE, the strongest stalk of hemp.
CARNIFEX, executioner.
CAUFF, chaff.
CAULDRIFE, chilly.
CA'T, call it.
CAUP, cup.
CAUSEY, pavement.
CERTIE, faith, in truth.
CHALMER, chamber.
CHANGE-HOUSE, roadside inn where horses are changed on a journey.
CHALK, slash.
CHAPPIT, struck.
CHEEK-BY-JOWL, CHEEK-BY-CHOWL, side by side.
CHEERY, dagger.
CHENZIE-MAIL, chain-mail.
CHIELD, fellow.
CHOPINES, high shoes or clogs.
CHUCKS, chuck-stones, as played by children.
CHUFFS, clowns, simpletons.
CLAITHING, clothing.
CLAPPED LOOFS, crossed palms.
CLATTER-TRAPS, rattle-traps.
CLAUGHT, snatched.
CLAVERING, idle talking.
CLEEK, hook.
CLEW, clue.
CLOOT, hoof.
CLOUR, blow.
CLOUTING, mending.
COCK-A-LEEKIE, COCK-A-LEEKY, leek soup in which a cock has been
boiled.
COIF, linen covering for the head.
COMPLOTS, plots, intrigues.
COMPT, list, account, particulars.
COMPTING-ROOM, counting-house.
COSHERING, being familiar and intimate.
COUP, barter.
COUP THE CRANS, go to wreck and ruin.
COUPIT, tumbled.
CRAIG, rock; also neck.
CRAP, creep.
CRAW'D SAE CROUSE, crowed so proudly.
CULLY, one easily deceived, a dupe.
CURN, grain.
CUSSER, stallion.
CUTTY-QUEAN, a loose woman.
DAFT, silly, mad.
DAIKERING, jogging or toiling along.
DANG, driven, knocked.
DEIL, devil.
DEUTEROSCOPY, a meaning beyond the original sense.
DIDNA, did not.
DIKE-LOUPER, a debauchee.
DIRDUM, uproar, tumult. DIRKED, stabbed with a dirk.
DONNERIT, stupefied.
DOOMS, very, absolutely.
DOUCE, quiet, respectable, sober.
DOVER, neither asleep nor awake.
DOWCOT, dove-cote.
DRAB, illicit sexual intercourse.
DRAFF, drains given to cows; also the wash given to pigs.
DRAFF-POKE, bag of grains.
DREDGING-BOX, a box with holes for sprinkling flour in cookery.
DROUTHY, thirsty.
DUD, rag.
DUKE OF EXETER'S DAUGHTER, a species of rack in the Tower of London.
DULE-WEEDS, mourning.
DUMMALAFONG, a common prey to all comers.
DUNTS, blows.
EARD, earth.
EEN, eyes.
ELRITCH, hideous.
ENOW, just now.
ENSAMPLE, example.
EVITED, avoided.
EXIES, hysterics.
FALCHION, a short broadsword with a slightly curved point.
FALSET, falsehood.
FAUSE, false.
FASH, trouble.
FASHIOUS, troublesome, annoying.
FENCE-LOUPER, rakish fellow.
FEBRIFUGE, a medicine to subdue a fever.
FIDUCIARY, trustee.
FLATCAPS, citizens, civilians.
FLEECHING, flattering.
FOOD FOR FAGGOTS, martyrs for their religious opinions.
FOOT-CLOTH, horse-cloth reaching almost to the ground.
FOUARTS, house-leeks.
FOULWART, pole-cat.
FRAE, from.
FRESCO, half-naked.
FULE, fool.
FULHAM, loaded dice.
GAGE, pledge, trust.
GANG A' AE GATE, go all one way.
GAR, make, force.
GARR'D, made, compelled.
GATE, way, road; also kind of.
GEAR, property.
GIFF-GAFF, give and take, tit for tat.
GIE THE GLAIKS, to befool, deceive.
GILLIE-WHITE-FOOT, running footman.
GILLRAVAGER, plunderer.
GIRNED, grinned.
GLAIKS, deception.
GLEED, awry, all wrong.
GOUD-COUK, fool.
GRAFFS, graves.
GRAMERCY, great thanks.
GRANDAM, old woman, grandmother.
GRAT, cried.
GREEN GEESE, parrots.
GREET, cry.
GREW, shudder.
GRIPS, handshakings, greetings.
GROSART, GROSSART, goose-berry.
GULL, one easily befooled,
GULLEY, large knife.
GUTTERBLOOD, one meanly bred.
GYNOCRACY, petticoat government.
HAET, thing.
HAFFITS, sides of the head.
HAFT, handle.
HAIRBOURED, resided, sojourned.
HAMESUCKEN, assaulting a man on his own premises.
HANKED, coiled.
HARLE, drag, trail.
HARMAN BECK, constable.
HEART-SCALD, disgust.
HEAD-TIRE, head-dress.
HECK AND MANGER, in comfortable quarters.
HEUGHS, glens.
HIRDIE-GIRDIE, topsy-turvy.
HIRPLING, limping, walking lame.
HIRSEL, flock.
HORSE-GRAITH, harness.
HOUGHS, hollows.
HOWFF, rendezvous, place of resort.
ILK ANE, each one.
ILL, bad.
ILL REDD-UP, very untidy.
ILL-WILLY, ill-natured.
INGINE, ingenuity.
INGOTS, masses of unwrought metal.
INGRATE, an ungrateful person.
IRON CARLES, iron figures of men.
JAW, wave.
JEDDART-STAFF, a species of battle-axe peculiar to Jedburgh.
JENNET, a small Spanish horse.
JINGLE, dance.
JOUP, dip, stoop down.
KEMPING, strife.
KENNING, knowledge.
KIMMER, gossip, neighbour.
KIRK, church.
KITTLE, ticklish, difficult, precarious.
KYTHED, seemed, appeared.
LAIGH, low.
LAIR, learning.
LAMB'S-WOOL, a beverage made of the pulp of roasted apples.
LANDLOUPER, adventurer, runagate.
LANG SYNE, long ago.
LATTEN, plated iron or brass.
LAVROCK, lark.
LEASING-MAKING, uttering treasonable language.
LEASINGS, falsehoods, treason.
LEGLIN-GIRTH, the lowest hoop on a leglin, or milk-pail.
LICK, a beating.
LIEFEST, most beloved.
LIFT, steal.
LIGHT O' LOVE, mistress, wanton woman.
LINKBOYS, juvenile torch-bearers.
LIST, like.
LITHER, soft.
LOOF, palm of the hand.
LOON, LOUN, rascal.
LOUPING, leaping.
LUG, LUGG, ear.
LUVE, love.
MAIR THAN ANCE, more than once.
MARLE, wonder, marvel.
MAGGOT, whim, fancy.
MELL, intermeddle.
MENSEFUL, modest, mannerly.
MERK, a Scottish coin, value 13s 4d.
MESS-BOOK, mass-book, Catholic prayer-book.
MICKLE, MUCKLE, much, great, large.
MINT, attempt.
MIRK, dark.
MISLEARD, unmannerly.
MORT-CLOTH, shroud.
MOTION, puppet-show.
MUCKLE v. MICKLE.
MUFFLED, disguised.
MUSKETOON, a species of musket.
MY GERTIE, my goodness! gracious!
NEB, nose, point.
NEEDSNA, need not.
NICHER, snigger.
NICKS, notches.
NIFFER, exchange.
NOBLE, a gold coin, value 6s. 8d. sterling.
NOWTE, black cattle.
NUNCHION, luncheon, food taken between meals.
OR, before.
OTHER GATE, other kind of.
OWER SICKER, too careful.
PAIK, fight, chastise.
PANGED, crammed.
PAPISTRIE, Popery.
PEASE-BOGLE, scarecrow among the pease growing.
PENNY-WEDDING, a wedding where all who attend contribute a trifle
towards the
expenses of the merrymaking.
PICKTHANK, a parasitical informer.
PIG, earthen pot, vessel, or pitcher.
PINK, stab, pierce holes into.
PLACK, a copper coin, value the third part of an English
penny.
PLOY, trick.
POCK-END, empty pocket or purse.
POCK-PUDDING, bag pudding.
POORTITH, poverty.
PORK-GRISKINS, sucking-pigs; also broiled loin of pork.
POUCH, pocket.
PRIE, taste.
PULLET, a young hen.
QUEAN, wench, young woman.
RAMPALLIONS, low women.
RAVE, tore.
RAXING, stretching.
REDDING-KAME, hair-comb.
REDD-UP, tidy, put in order.
RED WUD, stark mad.
REIRD, shouting.
REMEID, resource, remedy.
ROOPIT, croupy, hoarse.
ROSE-NOBLE, a gold coin, value 6s. 8d., impressed with a rose.
ROUT, ROWT, to roar or bellow.
RUDAS, wild, forward, bold.
SAAM, same.
SACK, sherry or canary wine, warmed and spiced.
SACKLESS, innocent.
SCAT, tribute, tax.
SCAUDING, scalding.
SCAUR, scare, frighten.
SCLATE-STANE, slate-stone.
SCRIVENER, one who draws up contracts.
SHABBLE, cutlass,
SHOON, shoes.
SHOUTHER, shoulder.
SHULE, shovel.
SIB, related.
SIBYL, prophetess.
SICKER, careful.
SICLIKE, just so.
SILLER, money, silver.
SIRRAH, sir!
SKEIGH, skittish.
SKELDER, plunder, snatch.
SLEEVELESS, thriftless.
SMAIK, mean, paltry fellow.
SNAP-HAUNCHES, firelocks.
SPANG, spring.
SPEER, ask.
SPEERINGS, information, inquiries.
SPRAIKLE, to get on with difficulty.
SPUNK, slip.
SPUNKIES, will-o'-the-wisps.
STEEKING, closing.
STEEKIT, shut.
STONERN, stone.
STOT, a bullock between two and three years old.
STRAND-SCOURING, gutter-raking.
STURDIED, afflicted with the sturdy, a sheep disease.
STYPIC, astringent, something to arrest haemorrhage.
SUCCORY-WATER, sugar water.
SUNDOWN, sunset.
SUNER, sooner.
SUMPTER HORSE, pack-horse.
SWITH, begone! be off!
SYNE, ago.
TAIT, lock.
TANE, the one.
TAWSE, leather strap used for chastisement.
TEINDS, tithes.
THROUGH-STANES, gravestones.
TIKE v. TYKE.
TINT, lost.
TITHER, the other.
TOCHER, dowry.
TOOM, empty.
TOUR, see.
TOUT, blast on the horn.
TOYS, goods.
TREEN, wooden.
TROTH, truth.
TROW, believe, guess.
TRYSTE, appointment.
TURN-BROCHE, turn-spit.
TYKE, TIKE, dog, cur.
TWA, two.
TWIRING, coquetting, making eyes at.
UMQUHILE, late, deceased.
VIVERS, victuals.
WAD, pledge.
WADNA, would not.
WADSET, mortgage.
WANION, misfortune.
WARE, spend.
WARLOCKS, wizards.
WASTRIFE, waste, extravagance.
WAUR, worse.
WEEL KEND, well known.
WHA, who.
WHEEN, few, a number of.
WHIGMALEERY, trinkets, nicknacks.
WHILK, which.
WHINGER, cutlass, long knife.
WHINYARD, sword.
WHOMBLE, upset.
WIMPLED, wrapped up.
WINNA, will not.
WITHY, gallows rope.
WOO', wool.
WYLIE-COAT, under-petticoat.
WYND, street, alley.
WYTE, blame.
YESTREEN, last night.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Fortunes of Nigel, by Sir Walter Scott