JAMES III.
"Who ever approached me, but for some private object, or with some
private passion to gratify? Hatred, ambition, and cupidity form
round me a circle without issue, and as a victim is ever needed for
each violence--that victim is ever myself."--JOAN OF NAPLES.
Next day, the second of August, the sun rose above Dundee in the same
unclouded splendour, and again the green hills, the ancient burgh,
with its spires and castle, the bannered ships, and all the wide
panorama of the Tay, were mirrored in its clear and waveless depths.
Bells were tolling merrily in the tall spire of the great church,
then designated the Kirk of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Fields, as
it stood without the portes of the burgh; and a wreath of those
sacred lilies which still form the armorial bearing of Dundee,
encircled the now mouldering statue of our Lady, which, with the
little infant Jesus in her arms, has survived the storms of seven
centuries and the rough hands of the Scottish Iconoclasts, and still
adorns the western gallery of that stupendous tower which overlooks
the "_Gift of God_."
Almost drowning the peals that jangled from the belfries of the Grey
Franciscans in the Howff, the Dominicans in the Friars Vennel, the
Mathurins, and the nuns of St. Clare, the great bell of St. Mary
(which was rent when too joyous a peal was rung for Prince Charles,
in 1745,) rolled a flood of iron sound above the town, and summoned
all the burgesses to meet a monarch whom the people loved, but whom
the nobles hated--James III.--who was now approaching by the road
from Perth.
Beyond the western porte, and all the streets that led thereto, this
road was crowded by the populace; and there might be seen the
merchants and burgesses, clad in plain broadcloth, with steel-hilted
poniards in their girdles. By law, neither they nor their wives
could wear scarlet, silk, or furring, and the females of their
families were restricted to short curches with little hoods, after
the Flemish fashion; and the ladies of poor gentlemen, whose property
was under forty pounds, had to content them with the same. There,
too, were officials of the church, doctors, and gentlemen, (having
two hundred marks per annum,) in cloaks of scarlet, laced and furred;
and labourers, who had exchanged their work-dresses of grey frieze
and Galloway white for the holiday attire of red and green.
From the eight stone gurgoyles of the market-cross, which, as usual
in Scotland, was surmounted by a tall octagonal column, bearing the
unicorn _sejant_, resting its forepaws on the imperial scutcheon,
wine was flowing, and a noisy contest waging among the young
_gamins_, seamen, and others, who struggled and thrust each other
aside, not always with good humour, to fill their quaighs, cups, and
luggies with the generous Rhenish and claret, which gushed forth
alternately from the mouths of the dragons and wyverns; but order was
stringently kept by the constable of Dundee, Sir James of Dudhope,
who had brought into the burgh five hundred of his troopers from the
Howe of Angus--all sturdy yeomen, who wore black iron casquetels,
with oreillets over the cheeks and spikes on the top, and were armed
with that deadly weapon the ghisarma, which had been but recently
introduced.
Escorted by a numerous retinue of well armed serving men, all of whom
had _the sleuthhound_ embroidered on the sleeves of their gaberdines,
and were accoutred with jacks and bonnets of steel, two-handed
swords, and wooden targets covered with threefold hide, the daughters
of Lord Drummond, with their aunt the Duchess of Montrose, the Lady
of Strathmartine, and many other noble dames from the Carse of
Gowrie, were grouped together on horseback, awaiting the king.
Robert Barton, Sir David Falconer, and other gentlemen, attended them
on foot, and held their bridles, having assigned their own horses to
the care of the pages, who carried their swords and helmets,--for a
page was at that time indispensable to every gentleman of pretensions.
Conspicuous amid all was the old Duchess of Montrose, a tall and
noble-looking matron, whose height on horseback, when her stupendous
coif was added, became almost startling; for, like old people
generally, "being behind her age," she still retained one of those
enormous head-dresses which our ladies had copied from the French,
and which had been introduced by Isabel of Bavaria, consort of
Charles VI., who had to enlarge all the doors in the Palace of
Vincennes after the arrival of his bride.
Nor must we forget that redoubtable Knight of the Post and Chevalier
d'Industrie, Sir Hew Borthwick, who loitered near, bowing and smiling
to people who knew him not, or knowing, who disdained him. After
completely failing to attract the attention of Falconer or Barton, he
swaggered through the crowd, clinking a pair of enormous brass spurs,
and exhibiting a new scarlet cloak, which he had procured by the
recent replenishing of his exchequer; he tilted up the tail of this
by his long sword, pointed his mustachios, and from time to time
turned up his eyes complacently, to watch the nodding of an absurdly
long feather that drooped from his head-dress; and the latter being a
velvet hat, like that of an Englishman, the people murmured, and made
angry observations about it.
The undisguised aversion and fear with which the crowd made way for
him wherever he went, were a source of satisfaction to this barefaced
charlatan, of whom we shall hear more than enough perhaps, in time to
come. He found ample occupation in observing the brilliant group
which surrounded Margaret Carmichael of Meadowflat, the Duchess of
Montrose, and in surveying the brilliant colours of those splendid
costumes which exhibited all the frippery extravagance and coxcombry
of the time of James III. Gold and jewels flashed on everything,
from the ladies' fair fingers to the bridles of their palfreys; but
by far the greatest number of diamonds and pearls glittered on the
long stomachers and among the braided hair of Lord Drummond's three
beautiful daughters.
Finding himself bluntly repulsed by Captain Barton and the
arquebussier, Borthwick had actually the assurance to address the
admiral, who came through the archway on horseback, surrounded by his
barge's crew, who had no other weapons than their poniards and
boat-stretchers; but a determined and hardy-looking old bodyguard
they were, with swarthy visages, long grisly beards, and broad blue
bonnets.
"Your humble servant, Sir Andrew," said the impudent swashbuckler,
elbowing a passage through them; "I dare say the folks will marvel at
this--a knight like me on foot, and thou, a seaman, on horseback."
"And how came this to pass, Sir Hew?" asked the admiral, who, being
older, had, perhaps, more complaisance or less pride than Barton or
Falconer.
"My favourite horse was shod in the quick by a villanous smith, who
is now dreeing the reward of his carelessness in the jougs at the
burgh cross."
"I congratulate you on your good fortune," said the admiral,
endeavouring to pass; "by your scarlet cloak I perceive--"
"That I have now more per annum than the Apparel Act requires: so
far, right, Sir Andrew; but, alas! an ancestor of mine lost a noble
estate by one act of indiscretion."
"Ah!--How?"
"By eating an apple," replied Borthwick, with one of his hideous
grins; "but so thou art come hither among us courtiers, admiral, to
steer by the royal smiles."
"The sailor's best compass is his conscience, messmate, and by that I
steer," retorted Wood, as he gave a peculiar wink to his coxswain;
then the Knight of the Post was gently put aside by the barge's crew,
and the old admiral alighted on foot by the side of the Duchess of
Montrose.
Around this noble matron, who was then the second lady in the realm,
the conversation was very animated; and, notwithstanding the awful
exclusiveness with which the Scottish noblesse in those days chose to
hedge themselves about, it was evident that the venerable Wood, the
gallant Barton, and the handsome arquebussier, were three centres of
attraction.
Margaret Drummond, still sad, pale, and thoughtful, paid little
attention to the buzz and bustle around her; she gazed anxiously at
the vista of the road which stretched westward past the Convent of
St. Mary Magdalene and the Tower of Blackness; a page held her
bridle; but the horses of her sisters were each held by their lovers,
with whom they were conversing in low and earnest tones. Falconer
spoke little, yet he was, perhaps, the happiest man in Dundee, for
now he was by the side of Sybilla, and could converse with her
untrammelled by the observation of others; and as the only matron who
could control her actions knew neither of his hopes, (or, as she
would have termed it, his presumption,) many little attentions were
unheeded or unseen.
A cloud of dust that rolled along the road announced the approach of
the King, and soon a troop of nearly a hundred and fifty mounted men
was seen approaching at a rapid trot. This cavalcade was well
mounted on horses of a breed which, at that time, was famous, a baron
of Corstorphine having improved the high Lanarkshire horses by the
introduction of some sturdy Flemish mares; thus, for hacks and
chargers, these large animals were esteemed as superior to any of the
four distinct breeds of horses belonging to the country. All their
steeds were brilliantly caparisoned with rich saddles, housings, and
bridles, covered with fringes and tassels of silk and gold
embroidery, gilded ornaments, and armorial bearings.
On approaching the west porte of Dundee, the king and his attendants
slackened their speed to a walk, but their horses continued tossing
their proud heads and flinging the white foam from side to side. The
monarch was unaccompanied by his queen, Margaret of Denmark and
Norway, who had departed, with many of her ladies, on a pilgrimage to
the famous shrine of St. Duthac, in Ross, then esteemed a long and
arduous journey.
James III., a tall, handsome, and athletic man, was then in his
thirty-fourth year; his complexion was of that deep brown tint which
is not usual to the islanders of Britain, and his hair was black and
curly. When in repose, his mouth expressed the utmost sweetness of
expression, but there were times when it curled with bitterness and
suppressed passion. His beard was closely trimmed; his air was
soldierlike; his manner dignified, at one time cold and reserved, but
at others sad, even to despondency, for he was the most unhappy of
kings.
On this day he wore a doublet of rose-coloured satin, embroidered
with damask gold, cut and lined with rose-coloured sarcenet, and
fastened by twenty-four little gold buttons. Over this he had a
riding surtout of green velvet, laced. On his dark locks he wore a
black velvet bonnet, with an embroidered band, a St. Andrew's cross,
and white plume; he had long riding-boots with embroidered velvet
gambadoes and gold spurs.
James, the young Duke of Rothesay, then in his seventeenth year, also
tall, and a very handsome youth, inherited his father's dark eyes and
hair; his straight nose, with its fine nostril, and his mouth, which
was like a woman's, but over it a dark mustachio was sprouting. The
dresses of the king, the prince, and all their suite, were nearly
alike in fashion, colours, and richness, unless we except the Lord
High Treasurer, Sir William Knollis, one of the most upright and
valiant men of the age, who, as Lord of St. John of Jerusalem, and
preceptor of the religious knights of Torphichen, wore the black
dress and eight-pointed cross of Rhodez. Around this ill-fated king
were many who were his friends, but many more who were his most
bitter enemies, and whose loyalty or treason will all be revealed in
future chapters; to wit, Sir James Shaw of Sauchie, who had been made
governor of Stirling because his father had been slain by a cannon
shot at the siege of Dunbar; Evandale, the Lord High Chancellor; Sir
Patrick Gray of Kyneff; the Lord Drummond; his brother, Sir Walter,
who was Dean of Dunblane and Lord Clerk Register; the Duke of
Montrose, who was Master of the Household and Great Chamberlain of
Scotland; Lord Lindesay of the Byres, and Archibald, _the great Earl_
of Angus, a noble then in his thirtieth year--one whose fierce and
restless ambition, indomitable pride, and vast feudal power, made him
a terror to the good king on the one hand, and to the oppressed
people on the other. Then, he was popularly known by the sobriquet
of Bell-the-Cat, from the quaint parable spoken by him at Lauder
Bridge in that memorable raid when he hanged every favourite of James
III.; for, in his eyes, Robert Cochrane, the eminent architect, was
but a stone-cutter; Sir William Rogers, who composed many fine airs,
but a fiddler; Leonard, the engineer, was but a smith; and
Torphichen, the fencing-master, a miserable fletcher--men who
disgraced James III. by the preference which he showed for them over
a proud, barbarous, and unlettered nobility, whom, like his father,
he resolved to spare no pains to curb and to humble. Vain thought!
This Lord of Tantallon, who was Warden of the East and Middle
Marches, and a chieftain of the powerful House of Douglas,
overshadowed even the throne by his power; for the King of Scotland
was but a laird in comparison to the great military nobles. Angus
was dark and swarthy as a Spaniard; his hair and beard were sable,
his eyes black and sparkling, with a keen, restless, and imperious
expression. Like his father--that valiant earl, who with ten
thousand horse, covered the retreat of M. de Brissac and the French
troops from Alnwick in 1461--he constantly wore armour, and was now
riding beside the Earl of Erroll, Lord High Constable of the kingdom,
who had come with a few lances from the Carse of Gowrie, to escort
the sovereign to Dundee.
As this brilliant and illustrious cavalcade passed through the old
moss-grown and smoke-encrusted archway which then closed the end of
the principal street, a general uncovering of heads took place, and
loud and reiterated cheers greeted James, who was beloved by the
people, especially in the towns where there was now rising a wealthy
middle class, who had no sympathy with, and who owed no fealty to,
the great barons, but were rather at enmity with them. He who
cheered most lustily, in forcing a passage through the gate with the
courtiers, was the soi-disant Sir Hew Borthwick, who endeavoured to
place himself as near to the king or prince as Lord Erroll's lances
would permit.
On passing Sir Patrick Gray, he exchanged a glance of intelligence.
"_To-night_," said he, in a whisper.
"_Where?_" asked the Knight of Kyneff,
"_On the beach near Broughty_," replied Borthwick. And here the
crowd pressed between them.
The king, still young and handsome, doffed his bonnet to the tall
duchess and her fair companions, and the young heir of Scotland,
whose spirited horse curvetted past them, bowed again and again to
his saddle; and though he looked anxiously amid all that glittering
group for one beloved face, by some fatality he never observed it,
and caprioled through the archway by his father's side.
Margaret Drummond, the foremost of the group, and almost unconscious
of where she was, had watched the approaching party in silence with a
beating heart. The shadow of her hood and veil concealed her pallor
and the sad and anxious expression of her fine blue eyes. Amid those
hundred horsemen and more who swept up to the gate, she had soon
distinguished Rothesay, and held her very breath with joy as he
passed, but alas! without observing her; and her young heart sank as
he did so; for though none knew it, save one old priest and two other
persons, the crown prince of Scotland was her wedded
_husband_--wedded at the altar of St. Blane with all the solemnity of
the ancient faith--but in secret.
Barton and Falconer were now compelled to leave the ladies, and with
many other gentlemen sprang on horseback, to accompany the admiral,
who had now joined the royal cavalcade.
The king received the fine old man with unfeigned expressions of
affection and joy; for grief soon discovers true sympathy, and
misfortune readily discerns the difference between flattery and
devotion: thus James III. always felt stronger and more confident
when such men as Sir Andrew Wood, or Lindesay and Montrose were by
his side; but such nobles as Angus and Lord Drummond were his horror
and aversion.
"There are times, my faithful friend," said he to Wood, as their
train fell back a little on entering the narrow Nethergaitt, "when I
envy thee and thy honest hearts the free and happy life they lead
upon the open sea."
"Yet a sailor's life hath its troubles and its crosses too--witness
the fate of Barton, my gude auld messmate."
"Of that, and of thy Flemish mission, we will talk at another time,"
replied the king; "let us not mar the happiness I feel at seeing
thee, honest Wood, the dearest and most faithful of my people, by
allusions to such cold and bitter subjects."
"God and St. Andrew bless your majesty!" said the admiral, whose eyes
and heart overflowed as he spoke. "I have never done aught more than
my duty to Scotland and my king, as man and boy, for forty years,
since first I trod a deck--a puir sailor laddie, in the _Peggie_ of
Pittenweem. I would run my head into a cannon's mouth, if by doing
so I could serve your majesty; and that, I believe, is mair than half
of these gay galliards ahead and astern of us would do; natheless
their long pedigrees and their dainty doublets, with white lace
knuckle-dabbers at the wrists."
"Some day I shall go to sea with thee, Wood," said King James, with a
melancholy smile; "for, by the soul of Bruce! I begin to tire of
this trade of kingcraft."
"I like the land as little as a fish; but should a day of foul
weather ever come, when your majesty is safer on salt water than on
Scottish earth," said the admiral, more than divining the secret
thoughts of the king; "remember, there is a ship's company of five
hundred good men and true, under the flag of the _Yellow Frigate_,
every man of whom hath a seaman's hand and a seaman's heart, solid as
a pump-bolt, and not like a perfumed and painted courtier's, hollow
as a leather bottle, or rotten like an old pumpsucker. Gadzooks! I
would like to see a few of these braw gallants drifting under
close-reefed topsails, with a wind blowing hard from the east, and
the craigs of Dunnottar on their lee!"
The king sighed, and allowed the reins of his horse to drop upon its
neck.
"Your majesty is troubled," resumed the honest seaman; "but if any of
these dogfish barons have been at their auld work, just let me ken,
and, by all the serpents in the sea! they shall feel the weight of my
two-handed sword, or I shall pipe away my barge's crew with their
boat-stretchers, and they will soon clear the causeway of every lord
and loon in Dundee."
The king laughed.
"Thou art indeed an honest heart," said he; for he found that they
could converse freely, as the incessant exclamations of the people,
as they pressed along the crowded streets, concealed their
conversation from such jealous listeners as Angus and Drummond. "A
process so summary might destroy thee, admiral, and thy bargemen too.
But indeed, Sir Andrew, I am sick of this ferocious loyalty (if I may
so term it) by which the nobles encircle me like a wall of iron.
Though short, my life has been a long and dreary labyrinth of
intrigue and civil war, of crafty councils and infernal
suggestions--a struggle between a tyrannical feudal peerage and a
gallant people, who would, and by St. Giles's bones shall yet, be
free! The nation has placed upon my brow a crown of gold; but the
nobles have engirt my heart by a band of burning steel!"
As the king spoke in this figurative language, he glanced about him
uneasily, almost timidly, and encountered the dark and stern visage
of Angus, and the proud, inquiring eyes of Drummond but they had not
heard him, or, having done so, did not comprehend.
"I speak figuratively, admiral," said he; "but do you understand me?"
"Perfectly, your majesty," stammered Wood, as with some perplexity he
rubbed his grizzly beard; "but come, come, Sir Hew," he added, on
perceiving that worthy close to them; "ware ship--give us sea-room
here, if it please ye."
At that moment the report of cannon on the river announced that the
_Yellow Frigate_ and her consort were firing salutes, as the king and
his train halted at the old palace of St. Margaret, where the Duke of
Montrose, as Master of the Royal Household, and the Constable of
Dundee, had already alighted, and were on foot to receive him.