THE
YELLOW FRIGATE
OR
_THE THREE SISTERS_
BY
JAMES GRANT
AUTHOR OF "THE ROMANCE OF WAR"
LONDON
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LIMITED
NEW YORK: E. P. BUTTON AND CO.
INTRODUCTION.
In that broad and magnificent valley which separates chain of the
Grampians from the Ochil Mountains, close by the margin of the Allan,
and sequestered among venerable trees, lies the pleasant and peaceful
little village of Dunblane, in Scotland's elder days an old cathedral
city. Northward of the limpid Allan lie purple heaths, black swamps,
and desert muirs. An old bridge which spans the river, and was built
in the time of King Robert III., by "the Most Reverend Father in
God," Findlay Dermach, bishop of the see, with a few ancient houses,
having quaint chimneys and crow-stepped gables, that peep on the
steep brae-side from among the shady beeches, are all that survive of
Dunblane; but over those remains rise the grey ruins of King David's
vast cathedral, of which nothing now is standing but the roofless
nave, with its shattered aisles, and the crumbling but lofty gothic
tower.
The gleds and corbies that flap their wings between the deserted
walls; the swallows that twitter on the carved pillars, or build
their nests among the rich oakwork of the prebends' stalls, with the
grass-grown floor and empty windows of this magnificent ruin, impress
the mind of the visitor with that melancholy which is congenial to
such a place. But it is neither the recumbent figure of a knight in
armour, with his sword and triangular shield, marking where the once
powerful Lord of Strathallan sleeps, not the burial-place of the
Dukes of Athol, blazoned with the silver star of the Murrays, that
are the most interesting features in this old ruin.
It is not the fine west window which overlooks the wooded path that
winds by the river-side, and is known as "the Good Bishop's walk,"
nor the ruined shrine where sleeps St. Blane of Bute--he whose boat
sailed upon the Clyde without sail or oar; he who (as the veracious
Breviary of Aberdeen tells us) struck fire with his fingers when the
vesper lights went out; and who raised from the dead the English heir
of Appleby and Trodyngham, that attract most particularly the
attention of visitors, but _three plain slabs_ of blue marble, that
lie side by side on the grassy floor, and nestling, as it were,
together, as if to show that those they cover had loved each other in
life too well to be separated even in death.
The fall of the ponderous and once magnificent roof; the action of
the weather, and the footsteps of visitors, have defaced the legends
that were originally carved there; but the memory of those who sleep
below these marble labs yet lingers in Dunblane and Strathearn.
Under the first lies the affianced bride of one who was a good and
valiant soldier, and faithful to his king.
Under the second lies the betrothed of a stout Scottish mariner, as
brave a fellow as ever faced salt water or cannon-shot.
Under the third sleeps the youngest--she who perhaps was the
fairest--the wife (but not the queen) of one who in his time was the
most gallant and magnificent monarch that ever wore the Scottish
diadem.
These three ladies were sisters; and their story is a strange and a
dark one.
History, tradition, and an old manuscript, that was found (no matter
when) among the Records of the Scottish Court of Admiralty, have
enabled me to lay their lives and narrative before the reader in the
following pages.
CONTENTS.
I. ON BOARD
II. THE SWASHBUCKLER
III. BONNY DUNDEE
IV. THE SISTERS
V. JAMES III
VI. PALACE OF SAINT MARGARET
VII. MARGARET DRUMMOND
VIII. THE FISHERMAN OF BROUGHTY
IX. THE BANE OF SCOTLAND
X. THE BOATSWAIN'S YARN
XI. CHAINING THE UNICORN
XII. EMBASSY OF THE SIEUR DE MONIPENNIE
XIII. TO SEA!
XIV. THE OGRE OF ANGUS
XV. CONCLAVE OF MALCONTENTS
XVI. ANOTHER SON-IN-LAW
XVII. THE WARLOCK OF BALWEARIE
XVIII. FATHER AND SON
XIX. HOW BORTHWICK FULFILLED HIS PROMISE
XX. WOOD MEETS HOWARD
XXI. THE PRICE OF THREE TENEMENTS
XXII. THE SILKEN CORD
XXIII. LORD DRUMMOND AND ROBERT BARTON
XXIV. DAVID FALCONER
XXV. HOWARD AND MARGARET
XXVI. THE CHAPLAIN'S CABIN
XXVII. THE ISLES OF THE FORTH
XXVIII. THE FIRST SCOTTISH REVOLUTION
XXIX. THE MARCH TO STIRLING
XXX. THE GOOD SHIP HARRY
XXXI. THE TORWOOD
XXXII. THE DOUBLE BRIBE
XXXIII. THE GREY HORSE
XXXIV. THE BATTLE OF SAUCHIEBURN
XXXV. THE FOUR HORSEMEN
XXXVI. THE MILL ON THE BANNOCK
XXXVII. THE REGICIDES
XXXVIII. THE HOUSE OF THE BARTONS
XXXIX. THE PRINCE AND THE ADMIRAL
XL. CLEARED FOR ACTION
XLI. THE ENGLISH BOAT
XLII. THE LOVER AND THE SPY
XLIII. THE BATTLE OF THE MAY
XLIV. LARGO
XLV. ST. ANTHONY'S BELL
XLVI. THE GUNNER
XLVII. BORTHWICK'S NEW MISSION
XLVIII. TIB'S HOWFF
XLIX. THE KING'S WARK
L. THE SUMMER SPEAT
LI. LADY EFFIE'S LETTER
LII. THE HERMIT OF LORETTO
LIII. THE TRYSTE AT LORETTO
LIV. THE WEIRDWOMAN'S TREE
LV. THE ESCAPE
LVI. THE UNICORN LOOSE
LVII. CAMBUSKENNETH
LVIII. DOUBT, FEAR, AND SECRECY
LIX. REUNITED
LX. LONDON IN 1488
LXI. THE ADMIRAL'S STORY--THE LEGEND OF CORA LYNN
LXII. STORY CONTINUED--"ERIS-SKENE!"
LXIII. THE BROKEN WEDDING-RING
LXIV. THE BATTLE OFF FIFENESS
LXV. THE ENGLISH PRISONERS
LXVI. THE STANE BICKER
LXVII. THE MAUCHLINE TOWER
LXVIII. DUNBLANE
LXIX. THE MIDNIGHT TRYSTE
LXX. THE IRON BELT
CONCLUSION
NOTES
THE YELLOW FRIGATE
OR,
THE THREE SISTERS
CHAPTER I.
ON BOARD.
"There was a ship at morning prime
The Scottish shore forsook,
And southward with a favouring gab
Her rapid course she took:
Her mast St. Andrew's banner bears,
And heaven be now her speed!
For with her goes the bravest knight
That Scotland hath in need."
BALLADS AND LAYS.
By the fragment of a log-book, which was found among the MSS. just
referred to, we are informed that on Beltane day, in the year of
Grace 1488, two Scottish ships of war, the _Yellow Frigate_ and the
_Queen Margaret_, were lying becalmed off the mouth of the Tay, about
seven miles from the Gaa Sands, and three from the Inchcape Rock, the
large bell of which was heard at times, as its sonorous notes floated
over the still bosom of the water. An abbot of St. Thomas at
Arbroath had hung it there, on a wooden frame, to indicate by night
that ghastly ridge, so long the terror of mariners; and thus as the
waves rose and fell, they swung it to and fro. Water will convey
sound to a vast distance; thus, in the noon of a calm May day, the
notes of the Inchcape bell were distinctly heard on board of the two
ships of his Majesty James III., although they were three miles
distant from the reef.
A groundswell came off the dangerous sands of Abertay; the sails of
the caravels flapped lazily against the masts, as the hulls rolled
from side to side slowly and heavily, for there was so little wind
that neither would obey her helm, but lay like a log on this water.
The fertile shores of Fife and Angus were shrouded in hazy summer
mist, above which peeped the bare scalp of the Law of Dundee. Noon
passed, and still the swell came rolling in long, glassy, and
monotonous ridges from the land, while the burnished sea seemed
smooth, as if coated over with oil. The ships lay about half a mile
apart; and the _Yellow Frigate_, with which we have more particularly
to do, was nearest to the shore.
A young officer who was pacing to and fro on her poop, gazed
frequently and impatiently at the mouth of the river, and after
wearying himself by whistling for the lagging wind, tossing splinters
of lighted wood into the water, and watching anxiously the direction
taken by the puffs of smoke or steam, he suddenly slapped his hands.
"Ahoy there, mizen-top! Barton," he exclaimed to an officer who had
ascended into the mizen-rigging, "there is a breeze setting in from
the east."
"Right, Falconer," replied the other; "I can see it curling the water
over the Inchcape; and it comes in time, for I was beginning to
bethink me of some other trade, for this of sailor requires overmuch
patience for me. So-ho! here it comes!" he continued, while
descending the ratlins with the activity of a squirrel. "See how the
sea wrinkles before it!"
"Now the canvas fills," said Falconer, looking aloft.
"The _Queen Margaret_ has caught it already, and now old Mathieson
squares his yards. Aha! he is an active carle; always on the
look-out, and his messmates jump like crickets when his whistle
blows."
The person thus eulogized, we find to have been Sir Alexander
Mathieson, a rich merchant-skipper of Leith, who had become captain
of a king's ship, and won the name of "King of the Sea."
"Keep her away, timoneer," said Barton; "keep her away yet--a point
or two to the south."
"Why so," asked Falconer, "when she lies so well?"
"Because, in entering the harbour of Dundee, we must keep the north
gable of St. Clement's kirk upon the bar, and on the north-west,
right over against Broughty, else we shall run upon the Drummilaw
Sands; and then not St. Clement himself, nor his blessed anchor to
boot, would save us. Master gunner--Willie Wad--please to inform Sir
Andrew that a breeze is springing up; but that I see nothing of my
father's ship, the _Unicorn_, at anchor in the Firth."
"Art thou sure?" said Falconer, anxiously.
"Sure! I would know her by her red poop-lanterns and square rigging
among a thousand ships."
Robert Barton, who was captain of the ship, hastened to get sail made
on her; and as the breeze freshened, the yards were almost squared;
the notes of the Inchcape bell died away, and both vessels stood
slowly into that beautiful estuary formed by the confluence of the
Tay with the German Sea.
The sailors, who, during the calm, hud been lounging lazily on deck,
or basking in the sunshine between the brass guns, exchanged their
listlessness for activity; a smile of satisfaction spread over their
weather-beaten visages, and a hum of gladness arose from the ship.
"Now, timoneer, the breeze is more aft," cried Barton; "steer dead
for the harbour mouth."
"Soho!" said Falconer, "the _Margaret_ is coming up with us, hand
over hand."
"Fear not," replied Barton, joyously, "we shall soon leave her far
astern. Thou knowest, Falconer, that this good caravel was built
under Sir Andrew's own eyes at the New Haven, near Leith," continued
the captain, surveying with a seaman's proverbial delight the lofty
rigging of the frigate.
"Yet, she is but a cockle-shell to the great ship of Hiero, anent
which, Father Zuill, the chaplain, told us so many wonderful things
after mass yesterday."
"If you had seen how beautifully she took the water, diving deep with
her stern, and tilting up her bow like a swan. She is sharp as a
lance at the bows below the water line--bold above it; straight
between poop and forecastle--clean in the counter, and bolted with
copper. By the faith of Barton, there sails not such another ship in
all Scottish waters; and I marvel mickle, if either French Francis,
or English Harry, will ever build one like her."
The ship which Captain Barton eulogised so highly would create no
small speculation in Bonny Dundee, if she and her consort were seen
standing before the wind, right up the Firth of Tay, in this year
1855; and we may imagine the criticisms of the rough old tars, who
usually congregate about the piers and rocks of Broughty Ferry. Her
whole hull was painted _brilliant yellow_; hence the name, that has
won her a place so conspicuous in the histories of the period.
Both vessels seemed comparatively low in the waist, for their
gigantic poops and forecastles rose like wooden towers above the sea;
and to render this simile more complete, were furnished with little
wooden tourelles at the inner angles. Elaborate carving and gorgeous
gilding covered the hulls above the water-line; and amid this,
grinned the great carthouns or forty-eight pounders; the brass
culverins and falconets, tier above tier. The port-lids were painted
a flaming red; three gigantic lanterns, with tops of polished brass,
surmounted each of the poops, which had round their sterns and
quarters a gaudy row of painted shields, bearing the armorial blazons
of the gentlemen who served on board. Round the butt of each mast
stood a rack of long Scottish spears and hand-guns, into the tubes of
which were inserted the hafts of Jedwood axes.
The _Yellow Caravel_ or frigate carried fifty guns; the _Margaret_,
twenty. Both were ship rigged, with three masts, each of these being
composed of two long tapered spars, fidded at the tops, which were
clumsy and basket-like enclosures, surrounded by little embrasures,
from whence the cross-bowmen, pages, and arquebussiers, could gall
the enemy in security. From the carved bows, the bowsprits started
up at an angle of forty-five degrees; and each had rigged thereon a
lesser or fourth mast, having a great square spritsail before. At
the yard-_arms_ were iron hooks to grasp an enemy's rigging. All the
sails were large and square. At her mainmast head, each vessel
carried the flag of the admiral, a golden tree in a blue field; while
at the stern waved the blue national ensign, with the great white
cross of St. Andrew, extending from corner to corner.
The summer sun of this fair Beltane day shone joyously on the glassy
water, on the glittering hulls and snow-white canvas of these stately
caravels, as they neared those green headlands which form the
entrance to one of the noblest of the Scottish firths.
On the south the shore is bold and rocky; there, round its old peel,
now in ruins, clustered the little village of Port-on-Craig, whose
population lived by fishing and managing the boats of the ferry (the
oldest in the kingdom), which plied between Fife and the opposite
point, where, on a bare and unwooded promontory stands the Royal
Castle of Broughty, a strong, square tower, then surrounded by a
barbican and other defences, which frowned towards the ocean on the
east, defending the narrow strait from hostile fleets, and on the
west, towards a dreary salt-marsh, that stretched almost from the
outer walls to the gates of busy Dundee.
The dresses of the officers and crews of the ships of James III. were
as remarkable as the aspect of their craft; for Robert Barton, who
was sailing master or captain, and Sir David Falconer, who was
captain of the arquebussiers, wore doublets or pourpoints of grey
velvet, cut very short, with slit sleeves, to show the loose white
shirts below; their shoulders were padded out with _mahoitres_, or
large puffs; they wore tight hose of Flanders cloth, with long boots
that came up to their knees, They had swords and daggers of great
length and flat blue bonnets; at the end of his gold neckchain, the
sailor carried a whistle; but the soldier had a cross and medal; and,
as a protection from salt water, each wore an overall, or rough
surcoat of Galloway frieze, trimmed with brown fur.
The sailors wore gaberdines of the same coarse material, with fustian
breeches, blue bonnets, and shoes of undressed deerskin, which in
those days won us the strange appellation of _rough-footed Scots_.
Willie Wad, the gunner, and Archy of Anster, the boatswain, only,
wore doublets of Flemish cloth, edged with silver lace, and with the
royal crest, the crown and lion _sejant_, embroidered on the sleeves
thereof. The arquebussiers, of whom there were a hundred and fifty
on board, wore steel casquetels, with large oval ear-plates, buff
coats, and broad military belts, which sustained their dirks,
priming-horns, bullet-bags, and the spanners of their long-barrelled
arquebusses.
Such was the general aspect of the ships and crews of his Majesty
James III.
Barton and Falconer were both stout and athletic young men, but were
somewhat different in aspect and bearing; for the former, who was a
son of the admiral, Sir Andrew Barton, or Barnton, of that Ilk in
Lothian, the wealthy Leith merchant, who had acquired a splendid
fortune, and purchased a fine estate, was a florid and jovial-looking
young seaman, with something of the Cavalier in his aspect; but
Falconer, who had no fortune but his sword, had been introduced to
the royal favour by the late Earl of Mar--the murdered favourite of
James III., who knighted the youth for his valour at the siege of
Dunbar in 1478, when but a stripling. Thus, though a knight, and
captain of one of the king's bands, he was but the son of a poor
merchant-skipper of Borrowstoness; yet he was a handsome and a
stately youth; his eyes, hair, and complexion were dark, and his
sharply pointed mustachios stuck fiercely off on each side of his
mouth.
"A boat has shot off from Broughty," said he, shading his eyes with
his right hand; "and two stout fellows are pulling for the ship as if
their lives depended upon their speed."
"Keep to larboard of the _Margaret_," cried Barton to the timoneer;
"for she draws less water of course, and we require all the fairway
to ourselves. Keep her away--see how the surf curls on the Gaa
Sands!"
At that moment, a door, which was studded with iron nails like that
of an old tower, opened in the after part of the poop, and the
sentinels saluted with their arquebusses as the admiral stepped on
deck, and first cast his eyes aloft and then ahead.
"Keep her full, Barton," said he, "keep her full. So, the old Tay
now opens her arms to us! and now the spires of St. Clement and St.
Mary are in sight again. Gadzooks, I can see the Rock of St.
Nicholas, and if I had thine eyes, Falconer, I might distinguish the
great house of Stobhall."
Falconer only twisted his mustachios, and smiled, but with a sombre
aspect.
"How, Sir Andrew," said Barton, "you think the eyes of a mariner----"
"Are but green glass when compared to those of a lover--yea I do,"
laughed the good old admiral, as he walked to the quarter, looked
over the side, and whistled to the freshening breeze; thus he failed
to observe the ill-concealed gesture of impatience that escaped Sir
David Falconer, and the bitter smile he exchanged with Barton.
Sir Andrew Wood of Largo, admiral of the fleet of James III.--the
Scottish Nelson of his time--was originally a wealthy merchant of
Leith, where in early life he was as well known in the Timber Holfe
as at Sluice and the Dam. He had first been merely a
merchant-skipper, who fought his own way at sea, but he had done so
with such signal success, and had so frequently defeated the fleets
of Edward IV. of England, and of Alfonso, King of Portugal, and the
pirates of many nations, that he was knighted on his own deck by
James III., who never omitted an opportunity of distinguishing that
rising middle class which the feudal barons viewed with aversion and
contempt. James further bestowed on him the noble barony of Largo,
in Fife, and he held it by the tenure that he should at all times be
ready to pilot and convey the king and queen to the famous shrine of
St. Adrian, on the Isle of May. His Castle of Largo, a pile of great
size and strength, he built by the hands of several English, French,
and Portuguese pirates whom he had captured at sea, and whose hard
work he made the price of their liberty.
Thus he, who had commenced life as a poor sailor boy of Leith, found
himself, before his fiftieth year, a Scottish knight and baron of
Parliament; the founder of a noble family; the possessor of a stately
fortress, Laird of Largo, Easter-dron, and Newbyrne; with a coat of
arms, bearing two ships in full sail under an oak tree, in memory of
his defending the Castle of Dumbarton against an English fleet in
1481, and defeating another near the Bass a few years after--But we
anticipate.
Now, his caravels had just returned from Sluice, where he had been on
an embassy, concerning the quarrel then existing between Scotland and
the Flemings.
He was rather under than over the middle height, and somewhat stout
in body, with a round good-humoured face; his complexion was fair,
but burned to a dusky red by exposure for nearly forty years to the
sea air in many climates; his beard and mustachios were rather full,
and the former fringed his face all round, mingling with his
short-cut hair, which, though it had been dark in youth, was now
becoming grey and grizzled.
On his head was a cap of maintenance, adorned by a short red feather;
he wore a rich military belt, and a jazarine jacket of the fashion of
the late King James II.; a gorget of polished steel, having
escalloped edges, and a magnificent poniard, which he had received
from Bartolemeo Diaz, the famous Portuguese navigator, who discovered
the Cape of Good Hope. Buff-coloured hosen encased his sturdy legs,
and he wore plain knee-boots of black leather, with high red heels.
The only indications of naval life about him were, his silver whistle
(in those days the invariable badge of rank on the ocean), with a
consecrated medal, bearing the image of Clement, the patron of
mariners; and more than these, that unmistakeable roll in his gait,
which is peculiar to all those brave and honest souls who live by
salt water.
"And so, Barton," said he, returning from the starboard quarter;
"there is no sign of thy father's ships in the Tay. We expected to
have met them here."
"It is indeed most strange!" replied Captain Barton, giving a last
and anxious glance up the broad and shining river that opened now
before them; "but assuredly I can see no more ships in the Firth."
"Not even from the mast-head?"
"Nay, though I could see the river as far up as the Pows of Errol."
"Some service must have turned up in our absence, and while we
lingered at the Sluice," said Falconer.
"And if service was to be found," said the admiral, with honest
emphasis, "my brave auld messmate, Sir Andrew Barton, would be the
last man on the Scottish waters to keep his anchor down. But, ho!
gadzooks, here is the captain of Broughty beginning to waste the
king's powder. Archy of Anster, order a yeoman of the braces to
lower my pennon."
At that moment a puff of white smoke broke over the black ramparts of
Broughty, as the cannoneers saluted the admiral's well-known flag,
which was thrice lowered in reply to the compliment as the vessels
swept slowly past, and entered the broad bosom of that magnificent
river.
The tide was now beginning to ebb, and those dangerous shoals, known
as the Drummilaw Sands, were gradually appearing.
Under these heaps lie the wrecks of those Norwegian galleys which
were destroyed in a storm in the days of Duncan I., after his general
had defeated the soldiers of King Sueno in the Carse of Gowrie.
There they sank, and there the shifting sand rose like a bar at the
river mouth above their shattered hulk.