[Sidenote: JAN. 15.]
There is no room to doubt that the king, so far as he took any part in
the prosecution of the northern papists, only had in view ‘the comfort
of his weel-affected subjects,’ and was willing to make the papists
suffer no more than was fairly necessary to maintain the reputation of
his ecclesiastical policy. He must have strongly sympathised with the
Catholic nobles, all of whom were his personal friends, and supporters
of his government; nor could he have heard of even the sufferings of
the middle-class gentry without some compunctious visitings. We find
him in January 1630 venturing on a measure of lenient tendency. The
Lord Gordon, eldest son of the Marquis of Huntly, had been, through the
influence of the late king, brought up with Protestant leanings. To
him King Charles thought of granting a commission for the execution of
the laws against the excommunicated papists, no doubt calculating that
he would use a humane discretion in the business. The Privy Council
accordingly gave him such a commission, to last for four months, and to
include the power of appropriating the rebels’ rents to his own use. We
learn from Sir Robert Gordon, that Lord Gordon was unwilling to accept
this commission, lest he should offend his father and prejudice his
position as commander of the King of France’s Scots Guard. But he got
over his scruples, and, as Sir Robert tells, performed his duty with a
degree of ‘dexterity and moderation’ that gained him the approbation of
all parties.
While Lord Gordon proceeded northward with this large commission, his
father remained in restraint in Edinburgh, still under obligation to
exhibit the rebels on his own property, if Lord Gordon should fail to
do so; and his daughters rested there also, under ‘sequestration,’
that the ministers of the true gospel might have access to them and
induce them to attend church.
Lord Gordon had scarcely been a fortnight in enjoyment of his
commission, when he found occasion to petition the Privy Council
regarding the escheats of the rebels. If they gave these men a third
of their rents as a means of supporting them abroad, it would be a
deduction so far from the remuneration held out to him. Was this just?
They appear to have been sensible of the force of this appeal, for they
immediately decreed that no such deduction should be made. Whether Lord
Gordon actually meant to appropriate these rents wholly to himself,
does not appear.
On the 1st of June, Lord Gordon came before the Council to report
progress, and it appeared that he had really used some diligence.
Mr Robert Bisset; Gordon of Tilliesoul; John Gordon at the Mill of
Rathven; Gordon of Drumquhaill; Alaster Gordon, in Badenoch; Hugh
Hill; John Spence and his spouse; John Gordon, in Troups-mill, and his
spouse; and Alexander Gordon, had all ‘given obedience and reconciled
themselves to the kirk;’ that is, had put a constraint upon their
professions of belief, and conformed to what in their hearts they
detested. Others as yet stood out in their ‘obstinate disobedience to
the church’--namely, Robert Bisset’s spouse; Gordon of Cairnbarrow;
Gordon of Letterfour; the goodwife of Cornmellat; Malcolm Laing; Adam
Strachan; Angus M‘Ewen; Gordon of Corrichie; Forbes of Blackton and his
spouse; Robert Innes’s spouse; Con, at Knockmill; Leslie, in Convach;
the spouse of Thomas Menzies of Balgownie; and Alexander Irving, his
wife, and brother. Gordon of Craig and his eldest son offered caution
to retire from the country. Margaret Gordon was confined in Banff, and
Menzies of Balgownie was in exile.
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Of nearly every one of the obdurate we have some account of what they
afterwards did or suffered. Most of them appeared (July 20), and came
under obligation either to conform before a certain day or straightway
to leave the country. About the same time, Sir John Ogilvy of Craig,
who had long been warded in Edinburgh Castle for his religion, and
also Dr William Leslie, came under similar engagements. One of those
who seemed least likely to succumb was John Gordon of Bountie. Living
close to the gate of Viscount Melgum, the brother of Lord Gordon, he
had been bold enough to allow a priest, Mr Robert Mortimer by name,
to perform a mass before a large company in his house; and when two
of the presbytery came to Lord Melgum’s house to remonstrate, and
John was called in to speak for himself, he broke forth in outrageous
reviling speeches, saying he would leave the country, but before he
went he would take the lives of these two ministers. But even this
hot-headed gentleman was brought low. He was induced to make a humble
supplication to the Bishop of Aberdeen for reconciliation with the
church; and on an ample declaration of his repentance, he was absolved
from excommunication. It is lamentable to think, of such a zealot being
obliged, for the saving of his property and place in the country, to
swear on his ‘great oath’ eternal allegiance to the Protestant Church,
and, with a heart full of suppressed rage and indignation, sit down and
eat and drink unworthily of the feast which symbolises the union of the
heart to the religion of peace and love.
On the 27th of July, the Council received a petition from John Gordon
of Craig, which, on account of its simple and touching expression, may
be given entire.[23] It ‘humbly sheweth that, for religion, order hath
been given for banishing the petitioner’s son, his wife and children,
and confining himself--in respect of his great age--in a town within
Scotland [Cupar], which order they have all humbly obeyed, his son,
wife, and poor children having forthwith abandoned the kingdom. A two
part of the poor estate which he hath being allotted for his son and
his family, and a third part for himself, he now findeth that by such a
mean proportion he cannot be able to live, being both aged and sickly.
His humble suit is, that he may have leave to depart the kingdom to
live with his son, because by their estate undivided, they may all be
more able to subsist than otherwise.’ It will probably surprise the
reader, even after the preceding recital, to learn that the Council
found the desire of the supplication ‘unreasonable,’ and ‘forder
declare that the said John Gordon of Craig sall have no modification
nor allowance of ane third part of his estate and living, except he
remain within the kingdom and keep the bounds of his confinement.’
[Sidenote: 1630.]
On the 7th of February 1630, it was found that, owing to Cupar being
situated on a thoroughfare, old Craig was visited by a considerable
number of persons ‘suspect in religion, with whom he has not only
secret conference, but there is pregnant presumption that other
practices are enterteined amang them in hurt and prejudice to the true
religion.’ This being in contravention of the agreement made with
Craig, that he should have conference only with the ministry and not
with papists, he was ordered to be removed to the out-of-the-way burgh
of Crail, and to be confined there and within a mile thereof.
After the popish gentlemen had been thus dealt with, there remained a
considerable number of ladies who as yet had not been much troubled.
But these gentlewomen were not to escape. On the 23d of December
1630, the Privy Council adverted to ‘Madelen Wood, spouse to ----
Leslie of Kincraigie; Jonet Wood, spouse to John Gordon of Bountie;
Marjory Malcolm, spouse to Matthew Alexander, in Turriff; Barbara
Garden, spouse to ----]; ---- Gordon, spouse to Mr Robert Bisset of
Lessendrum; Isobel Strachan, spouse to John Spence, in Brunstain; and
---- ----, spouse to John Gordon at the Mill of Rathven, who are not
only professed and avowed papists, and excommunicat by orders of the
kirk for that cause, but with that they are denounced his majesty’s
rebels and contemptuously lies at the horn unrelaxt.’ It was further
alleged of these ladies, that they ‘are common resetters, hoorders,
and enterteiners of Jesuits, and mess priests, and trafficking
papists--hears mess of them, and otherwise lives aftir ane most
scandalous and offensive manner.’ An order was issued that these women
should appear personally with their husbands, ‘that order may be tane
with them.’
As a specimen of the dealing of the authorities with the gentler
and weaker sex:--On the 9th of September 1630, the Lords of Council
received a petition from Elizabeth Garioch, setting forth her case
as a sufferer for her ‘averseness and non-conformity to the religion
presently professed.’ She was an old decrepit woman, past threescore
and ten years, bedrid for the present, and not likely long to live.
She had lain for months in the Tolbooth of Aberdeen, with ‘no earthly
means to entertein herself but ane croft of sax bolls sawing, and
neither husband nor child to attend to the winning and in-gathering
thereof.’ The misery of her circumstances made her restraint, she
said, the more grievous. Therefore she craved release from prison,
professing, ‘for the eschewing of scandal, which her remaining in the
country may breed or occasion,’ her willingness to give security that
she should remove herself forth of the kingdom. The Lords mercifully
remitted to the Bishop of Aberdeen to see to Elizabeth Garioch being
liberated on her giving caution to the extent of a thousand merks for
her self-banishment.
[Sidenote: 1630.]
In November 1630, a curious circumstance is noted regarding the Dr
William Leslie above named. Licence was granted to him by the Privy
Council to return temporarily to medicate to the Marquis of Huntly,
he being the person ‘whose judgment in matters of that kind the said
marquis does only trust,’ it being provided ‘that the said Dr William
shall behave himself modestly, without giving offence and scandal in
matters concerning the religion.’--_P. C. R._
It is remarkable that, while the histories of our country and its
national church are careful to note every particular of the conflict
between presbytery and episcopacy at this period, there is nowhere the
slightest allusion to these sufferings of the remnant of Romanists,
towards which Presbyterians and Episcopalians alike contributed. It
is to be feared that the actual severities which were dealt upon the
party were not the worst evils in the case. In the external conformity
which was forced upon many--so many that only sixty avowed papists were
thought to be left in Scotland--we cannot doubt that there was involved
a hypocrisy which would be bitterly felt--always the more bitterly
where there was an upright and honourable spirit--and which would in
the long-run have the most demoralising effects.
[Sidenote: 1630.]
A full history of the proceedings of the Romish priests in Scotland,
during the reigns of James VI. and Charles I., would shew examples of
heroic courage, self-devotion, and religious enthusiasm, equalling any
that can be adduced from the reformed denominations. ‘Capuchin Leslie,
called the Archangel,’ appears, from his biography,[24] to have been
a man of singular gifts and earnestness. The eldest son of the Laird
of Monymusk, in Aberdeenshire, he had been brought up at Paris, and
there converted to Romanism in his youth. Before attaining majority,
he had gone to those heights in devotion and asceticism which produce
hallucinative voices and lights. Making his way through unnumbered
dangers to his native castle, he there set himself to the work of
preaching. He collected the people in the woods, or beset them as they
were leaving the parish church; addressed them in a style of burning
eloquence, with threats of the fate reserved for heretics; and is said
to have brought thousands into his views in a few weeks. His admiring
biographer tells how he confounded the minister of Monymusk by asking
him to exhibit any reference to the church of Geneva in the Bible,
shewing him at the same time the Scriptural foundation of the _true_
church, by pointing out Paul’s Epistle to the Romans! His mother and
other relatives were brought over to the ancient faith. For two years
he exposed his life in this manner, but was at length obliged to leave
the district by one of these threatening edicts. Meanwhile, his family,
being discovered to be Catholics, had their property confiscated, and
his mother was obliged to retire to a hovel, where she endeavoured to
support herself by spinning. It is related that Father Archangel, being
resolved at all hazards to visit her, dressed himself like a gardener,
and cried herbs through the village till he discovered his mother.
After a hurried interview, he was obliged to leave her once more, and
depart from the kingdom. He nevertheless returned and recommenced his
labours; and this extraordinary man ultimately sunk at an early age,
under a fever caught while making a skulking journey across the Border.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: APR. 21.]
John Hart, printer in Edinburgh, being about to bring out an edition of
the Bible, the Town Council gave him formal permission to take a new
apprentice ‘for the advancement of the said wark,’ ‘notwithstanding the
time of three years be not past, since he replaced an apprentice last;’
‘providing always it sall not be lawful to him to tak and have ane
other prentice before the expiring of six years.’--_Ed. Coun. Reg._
As restrictions on the taking of apprentices still exist in various
trades, we must not be too ready to smile at this as a peculiar trait
of the barbarous political economy of a past age.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: MAY 29.]
On the birth of the prince, afterwards Charles II., which took place
between eleven and twelve this forenoon, the Lyon King at Arms was
despatched by the king from London, to carry the news to Scotland. The
Lyon arrived in Edinburgh on the third day thereafter, June 1st, when
immediately cannon were shot, bells rung, and a table spread in the
High Street, between the Cross and the Tron, for two hundred persons,
including the nobility, Privy Council, and judges, the company being
waited on by the heralds and trumpeters in their official dress.--_Bal._
‘In this May were five Saturdays, five Mondays, twa changes of the
moon, twa eclipses of the sun, ane other of the moon, all in our
horizon.’--_Chron. Perth_.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JUNE 20.]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Writers of the religious history of Scotland during the seventeenth
century, pause upon a remarkable administration of the communion which
took place at this date in the Kirk of Shotts. The great attraction
on the occasion was a young clergyman, afterwards famous, named John
Livingstone. In consequence of the impression now made, a great
portion of the assembled multitude remained at the place over the
night; so it was necessary for the favourite preacher to hold forth
next day. He did so with such power, and such a ‘down-pouring of the
spirit,’ that the congregation was thrown into ‘unusual motion,’ and
five hundred traced their conversion to that sermon alone. Amongst
the hearers were three young men of Glasgow, who, journeying to
Edinburgh on a pleasure-excursion, chanced to stop at the village
for breakfast and the refreshment of their horses. So affected were
they, that they entered into no amusements in Edinburgh, but speedily
returned home, and were ever after noted as serious Christians. This
is understood to have been the first instance of what has since been a
common custom; that is, to have services on the Monday following the
communion.--_Gillies._
In this year and for some time afterwards, the parish of Stewarton,
in Ayrshire, was the scene of ‘a very solemn and extraordinary
out-letting of the spirit,’ few Sundays passing ‘without some one being
converted, or some convincing proofs of the power of God accompanying
his word.’... ‘Yea, many were so choked and taken by the heart, that,
through terror, ... they have been made to fall over, and thus carried
out of the church, who after proved most solid and lively Christians.’
The fervour spread from house to house along both sides of Stewarton
Water. The profane called it the Stewarton Sickness.
[Sidenote: 1630.]
‘The poor people, purely from conscience, were seized with such an
apprehension of God’s wrath, and fear of eternal damnation because of
their sins, that rest they could have none. This they were able to
demonstrate to be no melancholy fancy, but a rational apprehension
of their real danger, being at that time both ignorant, profane, and
absolutely strangers to Jesus Christ, by [beside or apart from] whom
they could have neither hope of mercy nor title to salvation; and this
was beyond the reply of any divine. When by godly ministers ... they
were directed to the performance of those duties which accomplish
conversion from Satan to Christ, their peace became as strong as
their terror had been troublesome....’[25] ‘The Countess of Eglintoun
did much countenance them, and persuaded her noble lord to spare his
hunting and hawking some days to confer with some of them whom she
had sent for to that effect. Her lord, after conference with them,
protested that he never spoke with the like of them, and wondered at
the wisdom they manifested in their speech.’[26]
The Stewarton Sickness took its first rise in the ministrations of Mr
David Dickson, minister of Irvine, afterwards a conspicuous figure in
the time of the National Covenant. He was accustomed each Monday, being
the market-day of the burgh, to give a sermon for the benefit of those
who came there with their commodities for sale; and thus it was that
the Stewarton people had opportunities of kindling under his eloquence.
‘At Irvine, Mr Dickson’s ministry was singularly countenanced of
God. Multitudes were convinced and converted; and few that lived in
his day were more honoured to be instruments of conversion than he.
People under exercise and soul-concern came from every place about
Irvine and attended upon his sermons, and the most eminent and serious
Christians from all corners of the church came and joined him at his
communions, which were indeed times of refreshing from the presence of
the Lord.’[27] ‘Yea, not a few came from distant places and settled
at Irvine, that they might be under the drop of his ministry. Yet
he himself observed that the vintage of Irvine was not equal to the
gleanings of Ayr in Mr Welch’s time.’[28]
‘John Lockhart tells me (1727) that he was in company with an old
Christian who was a young man in the time of the famous Stewarton
Sickness.... In a great many, it came to a kindly conversion ... but
in severals it came to nothing, and in a little time wore off, and the
persons became just what they were formerly.’--_Wodrow._[29]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JULY.]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
At this time there lived near the town of Dunse a poor woman generally
believed to be possessed by an evil spirit. The Earl (afterwards
Duke) of Lauderdale, when a prisoner in Windsor Castle in 1659, sent
an account of her to Mr Richard Baxter, who has published it in his
_Certainty of the World of Spirits_. The earl, then a boy at school,
used to hear conversations about the possessed woman between his
father and the minister of Dunse, who was fully convinced of the fact
of the possession. This clergyman and some other clergymen proposed
to the Privy Council a fast for her benefit; but it was not allowed
by the bishops. ‘I will not,’ says the earl, ‘trouble you with many
circumstances; one only I shall tell you, which I think will evince a
real possession. The report being spread in the country, a knight of
the name of Forbes, who lived in the north of Scotland, being come to
Edinburgh, meeting there with a minister of the north, and both of them
desirous to see the woman, the northern minister invited the knight
to my father’s house (which was within ten or twelve miles of the
woman), whither they came, and next morning went to see the woman. They
found her a poor ignorant creature, and seeing nothing extraordinary,
the minister says in Latin to the knight: “Nondum audivimus spiritum
loquentem.” Presently a voice comes out of the woman’s mouth: “Audis
loquentem, audis loquentem.” This put the minister into some amazement
(which I think made him not mind his own Latin); he took off his hat,
and said: “Misereatur Deus peccatoris!” The voice presently out of the
woman’s mouth said: “Dic peccatricis, dic peccatricis;” whereupon both
of them came out of the house fully satisfied, took horse immediately,
and returned to my father’s house at Thirlstane Castle, in Lauderdale,
where they related this passage. This I do exactly remember. Many more
particulars might be got in that part of the country; but this Latin
criticism, in a most illiterate ignorant woman, where there was no
pretence to dispossessing, is enough, I think.’
It may be remarked that the speaking of various languages which they
had never learned, was one of the marks required by the canons of the
Romish Church to distinguish those under real possession. The Dunse
demoniac was remarkably superior in this respect to her contemporaries,
the nuns of Loudun, who, in their demonstrations of possession in the
celebrated case of Urban Grandier, spoke very bad Latin, not to mention
their utter inability to converse in Greek or Hebrew, and yet were held
by the authorities as genuine vessels of diabolic influence.
The fact of there being a reputedly possessed woman in Dunse at this
time, as the Earl of Lauderdale has stated, is verified by the Privy
Council Record, which contains, under date July 13, 1630, an order for
bringing before them Margaret Lumsden, ‘the possessed woman in Dunse,’
together with her brother and father-in-law, that order might be taken
concerning them, ‘as the importance and nature of such a great cause
requires.’
* * * * *
[Sidenote: SEP. 23.]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Susanna Chancellor, daughter of the Laird of Shieldhill, was accused
before the presbytery of Lanark of consulting with charmers, and
‘burying a child’s clothes betwixt [three] lairds’ lands, for health.’
By penitently presenting herself on her knees before the reverend
brethren, she was saved from the due punishment.--_R. P. L._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: OCT.]
At no great distance from the Castle of Strathbogie--the modern
Huntly--where the great marquis held state, dwelt two gentlemen of
figure, Gordon of Rothiemay and Crichton of Frendraught. In consequence
of a dispute about the salmon-fishings in the Doveran, these two
gentlemen fell into litigation and bad blood; and at length, from
finding Rothiemay obdurate, Frendraught had to get assistance from his
neighbours to execute the laws upon his antagonist. On New-year’s Day
1630, a bloody encounter took place between them, and Rothiemay was so
severely wounded as to die three days after.
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Frendraught could plead that he had been only carrying out the
behests of the law against one who set legal rights and decrees at
defiance. But the Marquis of Huntly and other Gordons felt that it was
a hard thing for Rothiemay to lose his life on such an account, and
Frendraught accordingly fell under their displeasure. The young Laird
of Rothiemay, calling in the assistance of the outlaw James Grant, laid
waste the lands of Frendraught, who was driven in succession to the
Earl of Moray, the king, and the Privy Council for the protection of
the laws. It was found necessary by the Council to send a commission
to allay the heats which this affair had called forth. When Sir Robert
Gordon and other commissioners arrived on the ground in May, they found
James Grant and two hundred Highlanders assembled at Rothiemay, ready
to lay waste Frendraught’s estate with fire and sword; and it was with
no small difficulty that they were stayed. Sir Robert, as a connection
of both Frendraught and the Gordon family, was well qualified to bring
about a reconciliation, and this he effected with the assistance of the
Marquis of Huntly. It was arranged that Frendraught should purchase the
forgiveness of the Rothiemay family by paying a sum of money. ‘And so,
all parties having shaken hands in the orchard of Strathbogie, they
were heartily reconciled,’ says Sir Robert in his gossiping history.
One cannot but see in this mode of stilling quarrels an encouragement
to new ones. Frendraught, having acted all along under law, ought to
have been protected by the law, instead of thus having to pay a fine
of fifty thousand merks[30] to buy off the vengeance of a family by
whom the law was disregarded and broken. But in those days the law
could only be executed by favour of the leading men of the country.
These leading men had their passions and their partialities. Sir Robert
Gordon probably purchased Frendraught’s safety on the best terms which,
in the circumstances, could be obtained.
[Illustration: Bog an Gicht Castle.]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
These circumstances form merely the introduction to a long series
of disastrous mischances which befell the Laird of Frendraught, and
which have made his name memorable in Scottish tradition. In the
course of autumn, a gentleman named John Meldrum, who had assisted
him in the fray with Rothiemay, quarrelled with him for not being
satisfactorily rewarded for his help on that occasion. To make matters
right, this gentleman came and took two horses from Frendraught’s
lands! Frendraught, hearing that the culprit was harboured by a
brother-in-law, Leslie of Pitcaple, came thither to seek back his
property; but the encounter only led to one of his friends wounding
a son of Pitcaple with a pistol-shot. Here was a new trouble for the
unfortunate Frendraught. In great concern for what had taken place, he
rode to the Marquis of Huntly at the Bog--the modern Gordon Castle--to
beseech his intercession for the stanching of the quarrel. At the same
time comes Pitcaple, full of designs of vengeance against Frendraught.
The marquis was obliged to detain the latter as his guest, to save him
from Pitcaple, who went away in great wrath.
Next day, when Frendraught proposed to go home, the marquis caused his
son, Viscount Melgum, to accompany him with some other friends, in
order to protect him from any attack which Pitcaple might make upon
him by the way. It chanced that the Laird of Rothiemay, so lately
reconciled to Frendraught, was present on this occasion; he generously
offered to be one of the escort. So Frendraught set out with his
gallant company, and reached home in safety.
It was only in conformity with the customs of the age that the laird
and his lady should invite Lord Melgum, Rothiemay, and the rest of the
party to remain for the night. They did so. The gentlemen consented;
and after a merry supper, were conducted to bedrooms in the tall
narrow old tower, which, with a modern addition, formed the Castle of
Frendraught. In the first floor, over a vault, through which there was
a round hole, lay Melgum and two servants; in the second was Rothiemay,
also with some servants; in the third, two gentlemen named Chalmers and
Rollock, and some more servants, were accommodated.
[Sidenote: OCT. 8.]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
About midnight, the tower took fire in a sudden manner, ‘yea, in
ane clap,’ says Spalding, and involved the whole of the inmates in
destruction, except Chalmers, Rollock, and a servant who slept beside
Lord Melgum. Swift as the fire was, three persons escaped, and Lord
Melgum might have also saved himself, if he had not, under a friendly
impulse, run up stairs to rouse Rothiemay. While he was engaged in
this act, ‘the timber passage and lofting of the chamber takes fire,
so that none of them could win down stairs again.’ So they turned to a
window looking towards the court-yard, where they were heard repeatedly
calling: ‘Help, help, for God’s cause!’ The windows being stanchioned,
and the access by the stair cut off by the flames, it was impossible
to render any assistance, and accordingly the six persons enclosed
in the burning tower were all piteously burnt to death. Melgum was
but twenty-four years of age, and left a widow and child; Rothiemay
was unmarried. It is stated by Lady Melgum’s chaplain, that in that
last moment of extremity, Lord Melgum induced Rothiemay to make open
profession of the Catholic faith; and so, ‘they two being at a window,
and whilst their legs were burning, did sing together _Te Deum_; which
ended, they did tell at the window that their legs were consumed,
recommending their souls to God, and the nobleman his wife and child,
first to God, and then to the king.’[31] A popular ballad of the day
speaks of their being called on to leap from the window:
‘How can I leap, how can I win,
How can I leap to thee?
My head’s fast in the wire-window,
My feet burning from me.’
He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,
And thrown them o’er the wall;
Saying: ‘Give them to my lady fair,
Where she sits in the hall.’
[Sidenote: 1630.]
This dismal event created a universal feeling of horror, and plunged
the friends of the deceased into the greatest grief. The Laird and
Lady of Frendraught were, to all appearance, deeply concerned for what
had taken place. On the morning after the fire, the lady, ‘busked in
a white plaid, and riding on a small nag, having a boy leading her
horse, without any more in her company, in this pitiful manner she
came weeping and mourning to the Bog, desiring entry to speak with my
lord; but this was refused; so she returned back to her own house,
the same gate she came, comfortless.’--_Spalding._ Her repulse was
the more remarkable, as Lady Frendraught was a cousin of the marquis,
and brought into bonds of sympathy with him and his family by being a
Catholic. A fixed suspicion that she and her husband were the authors
of the fire, had taken possession of the Huntly and Rothiemay families,
as well as of the populace generally, though not the slightest evidence
of guilt has ever been brought against them, and their loss of valuable
papers, and of gold and silver articles, to the value, it was alleged,
of a hundred thousand marks, rendered any concern of theirs in the
fire-raising the very reverse of probable. The laird himself acted in
the manner of an innocent man anxious to clear himself of suspicion.
He came immediately to the Chancellor Lord Dupplin at Perth, desiring
his protection, and offering to submit to trial. The Privy Council do
not seem ever to have felt that there were any grounds for charging him
with the guilt popularly imputed to him.
More particular suspicions fell upon John Meldrum of Redhill, the
_quondam_ adherent of Frendraught, but who had latterly fallen into
such bad terms with him; likewise upon John Tosh, the master-household
of Frendraught. These persons were accordingly apprehended, brought to
Edinburgh, and examined. A servant-girl called Wood was also seized
and subjected to torture, with a view to extracting her knowledge of
the circumstances; but this only produced prevarications, making her
evidence of no avail,[32] and for which she was scourged and banished
the kingdom.
In March 1631, the Marquis of Huntly, having resolved ‘not to revenge
himself by way of deed,’ as his panegyrist Spalding does not fail
to tell us--as if it were a great merit--proceeded to Edinburgh in
order to lay his wrongs before the Privy Council. Four commissioners
appointed by this body soon after proceeded to Frendraught, which
they examined with great care, in company with several noblemen and
gentlemen of the district. They found evidence that the fire had
originated in the ground-vault of the tower, where there were marks of
it in three several places, one of these being directly under the round
hole in the roof which communicated with Melgum’s apartment above. They
could not determine whether it was accidental; but they felt assured
that ‘no hand without could have raised the fire without aid from
within.’[33]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
While these matters were pending, there occurred an incident in itself
of little importance, but which marks the spirit of the time. The young
Earl of Sutherland, brother to Lady Frendraught, and whose late father
was cousin-german to Huntly, in the course of a journey to Edinburgh,
resolved to spend a night with the marquis, and for that purpose sent
forward his message from Elgin. When he arrived in the evening at Bog
of Gight, the marquis gave him a cold reception, and told him that he
must either break with his brother-in-law Frendraught, or with himself,
as he could no longer be the friend of both. The earl answered that
he would prefer the marquis to Frendraught, but that he could not with
honour throw off his sister’s husband as long as he was _law-free_.
Huntly immediately answered: ‘Then God be with you, my lord,’ and
turned away. The Earl of Sutherland lodged that night at a neighbouring
hostelry, and in the morning pursued his way south. The singularity of
such an event, in an age when it was disrespectful to pass a friend’s
door without partaking of his hospitality, gives it great significance.
John Tosh, after submitting to examinations by torture, and denying all
guilt, was charged (August 3, 1632) with the offence of setting fire
to the tower from within; but the charge was never brought before an
assize, the assessors finding that an insuperable bar lay in his having
passed through the ordeal of torture without confession. There were
some suspicious circumstances against him, chiefly of the nature of
inconsistencies in his own declarations; but it was certainly possible
to account for these upon a different theory from that of his being
guilty.
John Meldrum was tried a twelvemonth later, and as it clearly appeared
that he had uttered deadly threatenings against Frendraught’s life,
even specifying burning as the means, he was found guilty, and
executed. The theory of his guilt seems to have been, that he had
set fire to the tower, in the belief that the laird slept there, and
effected his purpose by thrusting combustibles and fire through three
slits in the wall. It must be admitted that Meldrum was the only man,
of all concerned, in whom motive for murder appears; but his guilt
is, after all, far from being clear. The wall was ten feet thick, and
the commission had decidedly pointed to an origin within. No trace of
combustibles was ever adduced, and it was proven that he had been at
Pitcaple, ten or twelve miles off, that night. On the whole, when the
matter is viewed without the passions of the time, it seems most likely
that the fire was accidental.
As for the Gordon family, it remained fully convinced of the guilt of
the Laird and Lady of Frendraught; and since full retribution could not
be obtained by the law, they behoved to have it in some other way. How
they proceeded, will be hereafter described.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: DEC.]
[Sidenote: 1630.]
At Carron, on Speyside, dwelt a branch of the family of the Grants of
Glenmorriston, and near by, at Ballindalloch, was a more important
family of the same name. In consequence of a homicide which James
Grant of the Carron family had committed some years before, there was
a fierce feud between these two families. James, finding his enemies
irreconcilable, and seeing no prospect of peace, became lawless and
desperate. The power of the Earl of Moray proved ineffectual to repress
his constant incursions upon the lands of Ballindalloch, or to obtain
possession of his person. Ballindalloch himself consequently became
desperate. One day, learning that John Grant of Carron and some of his
people were in the forest of Abernethy cutting timber, he set upon him
with a party, and killed him, but not without loss of life on his own
side. He did this on the presumption that Carron aided his relative the
outlaw.--_G. H. S._
[Sidenote: DEC. 3.]
The Earl of Moray interposing his power as lord-lieutenant for the
protection of Ballindalloch, James Grant vowed to be avenged by his
own hand. On the day here noted, he came with a number of associates
to Pitchass, the residence of his enemy, who, for his part, had also
a number of friends attending him. ‘To train him out, he sets his
corn-yard on fire, and haill laigh bigging, barns, byres, stables,
wherein many horse, nolt, and sheep were burnt; and sic bestial as was
not burnt, they slew and destroyed. But young Ballindalloch kept the
house and durst not come out and make any defence. In like manner,
James Grant, with his complices, passed to the town and lands of
Tulchin, pertaining to old Ballindalloch, and burnt up and destroyed
the haill bigging thereof, corns, cattle, goods and geir, and all which
they could get, and to the hills goes he.’
[Sidenote: DEC. 13.]
The Earl of Moray, unable to see any better mode of dealing with this
case than to ‘gar one devil ding another,’ made a paction with three
broken men, the principal of whom was brother to the late chief of
the Clan Mackintosh; who undertook to bring James Grant to him dead
or alive. ‘They find him in the town of Auchnachill, at the head of
Strathaven, within a house, and ten men with him.... James and his men
wins out and takes to flight. They follow sharply, slew four of his
men, wounded himself with arrows in eleven parts of his body, and when
he could do no more, he was taken, and his six other men.’ As soon as
his wounds were cured, he was conducted to Edinburgh, and imprisoned
in the Castle, being ‘admired and looked upon as a man of great
vassalage;’ but his six men were all hanged.--_Spal._
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Grant lay a prisoner in Edinburgh Castle for nearly two years. It is
related that, a former neighbour, Grant of Tomnavoulen, passing one day
under his prison windows, he called to him, asking, ‘what news from
Speyside?’ ‘None very particular,’ rejoined his acquaintance; ‘the
best is that the country is rid of you.’ ‘Perhaps we shall meet again,’
said James.[34]
His wife having conveyed to him some ropes in what was believed to be
a cask of butter, Grant came over the walls of the Castle (October
15, 1632) at night, and being received into the arms of his bastard
son, immediately left town by a western road. For nine days he lay
sick in the woods of Herbertshire, near Denny, and then vanished into
the Highlands. The Privy Council, exasperated at his escape, offered
a large reward for his apprehension, but in vain. He remained quiet
till November 1633, when he began to resume the offensive, ‘partly
travelling through the country, sometimes on Speyside, sometimes here,
sometimes there, without fear or dread.’ His wife having retired in
a delicate condition to a small lodging at Carron on Speyside, where
Grant was known to visit her occasionally, young Ballindalloch hired
a party of the broken Clan Macgregor, under a renowned outlaw of
their tribe, named Patrick Dhu Ger, to beset him there. Grant being
at Carron one night with only his bastard son and a single attendant,
the Macgregors surrounded the house, and began to uncover it, in order
to get at their victim. ‘James Grant, hearing the noise, and seeing
himself so beset, that he was not able to keep that house nor win away,
resolved to keep the door with the other two as long as they might, and
shot out arrows at two windows, [so] that few did venture to come near
the door, except their captain ... whilk James Grant perceiving, and
knowing him well, presently bends a hagbut, and shoots him through both
the thighs, and to the ground falls he. His men leave the pursuit, and
loup about to lift him up again; but as they are at this work, James
Grant, with the other two, loups frae the house and flies, leaving his
wife behind him. He is sharply pursued, and many arrows shot at him;
yet he wan away safely to a bog near by with his two men. Patrick Ger
died of the shot, within short while, a notable thief, robber, and
briganer, oppressing the people wherever he came, and therefore they
rejoiced at his death.’--_Spal._
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Another year elapsed, during which there had been some abortive
attempts at a paction between Grant and young Ballindalloch. One
evening in the depth of winter (December 7, 1634), as the latter was
sitting at supper in his house of Pitchass, Grant’s wife came in
and whispered something in his ear. He rose, took his wife’s plaid
about him, and his sword and target in his hand, and went out with
the lady, his wife following under anxiety about his welfare. He thus
easily fell into an ambuscade which James Grant had set for him, and
was hurried off during the night, over moss and muir, to a kiln in
the low country near Elgin, where he was kept in bonds under a strong
guard, without any of the comforts of life, for three weeks. From this
miserable condition, he escaped by the aid of one of his guards named
Leonard Leslie, and got in safety to Innes House, where he was kindly
entertained. By his own exertions, one Thomas Grant, the owner of the
kiln, was hanged next summer for harbouring the outlaw James; two other
men were banished for the same offence. Meanwhile, the Macgregors
were active in despoiling and laying waste the lands of Corse and
Craigievar, in professed revenge for the slaughter of Patrick Ger; but
in February 1636, by the exertions of Stewart of Craigievar, seven of
them were taken and hanged at the Cross of Edinburgh. This, again,
brought into prominence a lawless Macgregor, known popularly under the
name of Gilderoy, who, desiring vengeance on the Stewarts, burned some
of their lands in Athole. Thus it was that wickedness continued its own
existence in those days when public justice was weak.
One Thomas Grant, believed to be the same person who had thrown a taunt
at James in Edinburgh Castle, was reputed to have undertaken, for
Ballindalloch, to bring the outlaw to him dead or alive. James, hearing
of this, came to Thomas’s house, and, missing him, killed sixteen of
his cattle. Lighting upon Thomas lying in bed at a friend’s house near
by, with his bastard brother, the pitiless outlaw took them both out
naked and killed them (April 5, 1636). A few days after, he came with
four men to Strathbogie, and by chance craved food at the hangman’s
house. The hangman, frightened at the appearance of his visitors,
stole away and gave information to the bailie, who presently came with
an armed party and surrounded the house. Then a desperate and bloody
conflict took place, in the course of which the bailie lost two of his
men. Grant after all got clear of his assailants under cloud of night;
leaving, however, his bastard son and two of his men a prey to justice.
Very soon after (July 27), Gilderoy and some of his associates were
likewise brought to Edinburgh, and hanged.
[Sidenote: 1630.]
Notwithstanding the accumulated guilt of James Grant, he subsequently
obtained a remission, and lived to take part in the troubles attending
the introduction of the Covenant.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: DEC. 14.]
The Privy Council issued a thundering order for the putting down of
those ‘vagabonds, thieves, and limmers,’ the Egyptians, of whom large
bands were going about in the north parts of the kingdom, armed,
extorting whatever they needed from such of the lieges as were not able
to resist them.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 1631.