CONCLUSION.
"I never liked the landsman life, the earth is aye the same
Gie me the ocean for my dower, my vessel for my hame.
When life's last sun gangs feebly doon, and death comes to the door,--
When a' the world's a dream to us, we'll go to sea no more,
No more--we'll go to sea no more!"--_Scottish Song_.
Lord Drummond lived to see one of his daughters become a countess,
and the other in a fair way to wear a coronet; for little Lady
Beatrix grew a beautiful woman, and in after years became the
Countess of James Earl of Arran, commander of the Scots in the French
and Danish wars; while Elizabeth was wedded to the war-like Master of
Angus, who fell at Flodden, with two hundred knights and gentlemen,
all of the great and gallant Douglas' name; and could the proud old
lord have had a vision of her descendants, his ambitious heart would
have swelled with joy, for her grand-daughter, Margaret, became the
mother of Henry, King of Scotland, from whom the kings of Britain,
France, Spain, Prussia, and the emperors of Germany, are descended.
After the horrible catastrophe which closed our last chapter, we at
first intended to have said no more; but as this narrative has
partaken much more of the character of a veritable history than a
romance, a few parting words are necessary, before we say farewell to
those who have accompanied us so far.
The historians of later times have revealed to us what was then
unknown,--that the unhappy Margaret Drummond was, as Robert Douglas
has it, "_taken away to make room for a daughter of England_," and
that her two elder sisters perished with her.
In their bridal wreaths and veils each was interred, with a golden
chalice on her breast, in that old cathedral aisle; and there they
sleep, side by side, where for many years solemn masses were said
over them, until the belief in such things passed away.
Three blue slabs cover them, and mossy ruins and grassy graves are
around them. The Allan murmurs by unchanged; but the trees that
shade it are old now, and they moan as they shake their rustling
leaves in the wind that comes from the distant Grampians. Few now
know the stones that mark the graves of the three hapless
sisters--the three beautiful Drummonds; for it is often the way of
the world, that those whose couch in life has been decked with every
splendour, have their bed of eternity forgotten and neglected.
Neither David Falconer nor Robert Barton died of broken hearts, as
the heroes of romance might have done; but broken hearts were as
little in fashion then as now. They sorrowed long and deeply, like
noble and true-hearted men, and they never married.
Barton was knighted, and became comptroller of the royal household;
the arquebussier, as we are informed by Buchanan, was slain at the
head of the Royal Guard, of which he was captain, when covering the
retreat of the king's artillery at the siege of Tantallon. He was
then a man well up in years, being past his seventieth birthday; and
when his body was stripped and plundered by the Douglas troopers,
there were found, in a little bag at his neck, an Agnus Dei, a lock
of hair, a ring, and a medal.
The ring and the lock of hair belonged to Sybilla Drummond, and the
medal was the gift of King James IV. Some monks of North Berwick
found the body as it lay on the highway; and though it had ever been
Sir David's wish to lie in Dunblane, they buried him in the Auld-kirk
close by the sea, which is now washing its burying-ground away.
The reader will naturally suppose that after achieving the
long-desired wish of the English faction, in removing the unfortunate
Margaret, the enterprising Lairds of Sauchie and Kyneff ultimately
obtained their peerages; but such was not the case,--_why_, we are
not in a position to state, for no doubt they, or their descendants,
would have shone conspicuously in that black list of political
traitors who broke the heart of King James V.
Sir Andrew Wood of Largo survived to see the early part of the reign
of James V. He was then in extreme old age; and after a long career
of faithful service and brilliant achievement, and after fighting his
old ship, the _Yellow Caravel_, as long as her timbers held together,
he retired to the Castle of Largo, in and around which Cuddie
Clewline, the coxswain of his barge, Willie Wad, the gunner, Archy of
Anster, the boatswain, and nearly all his crew, were located; for the
Scottish Nelson lived in his old age, and died, when the hour came,
like a true Scottish Trunnion.
When he grew feeble and unable to ride to Largo Kirk, where Father
Zuill was chaplain, and where he long strove in vain to achieve the
development of the parabolic speculum of Marcellus, it was proposed
to make a litter, wherein his old shipmates might convey him on their
shoulders.
"Nay, nay, Robbie Barton," said he, "I ken nothing of how to navigate
such a craft; every man to his trade,--the gunner to his lintstock,
the steersman to his helm, and the cook to the foresheet. Gadzooks,
I shall be rowed in my barge as of yore!"
From the northern gate of Largo Castle he had a canal cut through a
wooded hollow to Largo Kirk, and along this he was rowed every Sunday
by his old barge's crew, with Cuddie in the prow, bearing a
boat-hook, and keeping a look-out ahead, and an admiral's broad
pennon floating in the water astern.
The remains of this canal are still distinctly visible at Upper
Largo; and along that watery path, when his years were full, his
remains were rowed by torchlight to the venerable fane where his tomb
is yet to be seen; and where now he sleeps, with his compass, his
cross-staff, sword, and whistle, in his coffin; and so he passed
away, "believing and hoping," as he said to those who wept around
him, "that when piped up aloft at the last muster-day, he would be
able to give as good an account of his steerage, variation, and
leeway in life, as ever he had done in the longest voyage of the dear
old _Yellow Frigate_--God bless every plank of her!"
Such were the last words of the brave old Laird of Largo.
NOTES.
1. Concerning Lady Margaret Drummond, a long and interesting note
will be found in Tytler's admirable _History of Scotland_, vol. iv.
The king became deeply attached to her at an early period. In his
first Parliament she was voted an allowance for dresses. Douglas, in
his Peerage, stated that she was poisoned in 1501; "great mystery,"
says Mr. Tytler, "hangs over the death of this royal favourite."
In Moreri's _Dictionary_, it is stated that John, first Lord
Drummond, "had four daughters, one of whom, named Margaret, was so
much beloved by James IV., that he wished to marry her; but as they
were connected by blood, and a dispensation from the Pope was
required, the impatient monarch concluded a private marriage, from
which clandestine union sprang a daughter, who became the wife of the
Earl of Huntly. The dispensation having arrived, the king determined
to celebrate his nuptials publicly; but the jealousy of some of the
nobles against the house of Drummond, suggested to them the cruel
project of taking off Margaret by poison, in order that her family
might not enjoy the glory of giving two queens to Scotland.
"Certain it is, that Margaret Drummond, with Euphemia and the Lady
Sybilla, her sisters, died suddenly at the same time, with symptoms
exciting a strong suspicion of poison, which it was thought had been
administered to them at breakfast. Sir Walter Drummond, Lord Clerk
Register, their paternal uncle, was at the time, Dean of Dunblane, a
circumstance which seems to have led to their interment there, the
family having lately removed from Stobhall, their original seat, on
the banks of the Tay, to Drummond Castle, where probably they had no
place of internment."
James IV. appears never to have forgotten her, for down to the end of
his life, are entries in the Treasurer's accounts of the payments
made to the two priests who sung masses for her soul in Dunblane.
2. Concerning the story told by the boatswain in Chapter X., I may
mention, that in Ogilby's _Africa_, a gigantic folio work, published
in "the White Fryers, London, 1670," will be found a curious
description of the Guanchos, and their mode of preserving the dead,
which agrees entirely with the description thereof given by the
shipmate of our admiral. The idea of the chalked ship sailing _off_
the wall is not original, for I remember once hearing a soldier tell
some such story to his comrades as they sat round a guard-room fire,
on a cold winter night in North America.
3. I may remark, that though I have rather anticipated the time of
Sir Andrew Wood's two battles, for the purposes of my own story, I
have striven on the details of them, and everywhere else, to adhere
closely to history, to character, and to costume, &c., and to those
who are curious in the matter, much information concerning the
admiral will be found in _Tait's Magazine_ for April and May, 1852.
"He was," says Tytler, "an enterprising and opulent merchant, a brave
warrior, and skilful naval commander, an able financialist,
intimately acquainted with the management of commercial transactions,
and a stalwart feudal baron." He died about the year 1510, and left
several sons, one of whom became a senator of the College of Justice.
There is still remaining a circular tower of the castellated dwelling
erected by the brave old admiral. A tablet, bearing an inscription
to his memory, and an extract from his charter, was inserted in the
mouldering wall by the late General Durham; on the summit of the ruin
was one of the iron thirty-two pounders recovered from the wreck of
the _Royal George_, which pointed towards the sandy shore and
beautiful bay of Largo, and formed a characteristic monument to the
stout old captain of the _Yellow Caravel_.
The cannon is now placed in front of the modern mansion-house, but
the white marble slab yet remains above the door of the old one, and
is inscribed as follows:--
"This Tablet was placed by
GENERAL JAMES DURHAM, of Largo,
In the year M.DCCC.XXXII.
To remind posterity that
These are the remains of the Royal Residence,
Granted with the lands of Largo, by
JAMES THE THIRD
_To His Admiral Sir Andrew Wood,_
Who repaired and strengthened the Fortalice
By the hands of Englishmen captured by him
This donation from his grateful Sovereign
Was the well merited reward
Of his brave and generous conduct,
In successfully defending,
At his own private expense,
The seas and shores of Scotland
From the otherwise unconquered Navy of England;
Or, as his charter bears:
'Propter servicia tam per terram quam per mare,
in pace et in guerra, gratuiter impensa.'"
Sir Alexander Durham of Largo, Lord Lyon King-at-Arms, acquired the
estate of Largo Anno Dom. 1659.