The Earl of Glencairn, having much to do with the other Lords of the
Congregation, did not come to his lodging till late in the afternoon,
when, as soon as he had passed into his privy chamber, he sent for his
three new men, and entered into some conversation with them concerning
what the people at Lithgow said and thought of the Queen-dowager's
government, and the proceedings at that time afoot on behalf of the
reformed religion. But my grandfather jealoused that in this he was less
swayed by the expectation of gathering knowledge from them, than by a
wish to inspect their discretion and capacities; for, after conversing
with them for the space of half an hour or thereby, he dismissed them
courteously from his presence, without intimating that he had any
special service for them to perform.
One evening as the Earl sat alone at supper, he ordered my grandfather
to be brought again before him, and desired him to be cup-bearer for
that night. In this situation, as my grandfather stood holding the
chalice and flagon at his left elbow, the Earl, as was his wonted custom
with such of the household as he from time to time so honoured, entered
into familiar conversation with him; and when the servitude and homages
of the supper were over, and the servants were removing the plate and
trenchers, he signified, by a look and a whisper, that he wished him to
linger in the room till after they were gone.
"Gilhaize," said he, when the serving-men had retired, and they were by
themselves, "I am well content with your prudence, and therefore, before
you are known to belong to my train, I would send you on a confidential
errand, for which you must be ready to set forth this very night."
My grandfather made no reply in words to this mark of trust, but bowed
his head in token of his obedience to the commands of the Earl.
"I need not tell you," resumed his master, "that among the friends of
the reformed cause there are some for policy and many for gain, and that
our adversaries, knowing this, leave no device or stratagem untried to
sow sedition among the Lords and Leaders of the Congregation. This very
day the Earl of Argyle has received a mealy-mouthed letter from that
dissolute papist, the Archbishop of St Andrews, entreating him, with
many sweet words, concerning the ancient friendship subsisting between
their families, to banish from his protection that good and pious
proselyte, Douglas, his chaplain, evidently presuming, from the easy
temper of the aged Earl, that he may be wrought into compliance. But
Argyle is an honest man, and is this night to return, by the
Archbishop's messenger and kinsman, Sir David Hamilton, a fitting and
proper reply. It is not, however, to be thought that this attempt to
tamper with Argyle is the sole trial which the treacherous priest is at
this time making to breed distrust and dissension among us, though as
yet we have heard of none other. Now, Gilhaize, what I wish you to do,
and I think you can do it well, is to throw yourself in Sir David's way,
and, by hook or crook, get with him to St Andrews, and there try by all
expedient means to gain a knowledge of what the Archbishop is at this
time plotting--for plotting we are assured from this symptom he is--and
it is needful to the cause of Christ that his wiles should be
circumvented."
In saying these words the Earl rose, and, taking a key from his belt,
opened a coffer that stood in the corner of the room, and took out two
pieces of gold, which he delivered to my grandfather, to bear the
expenses of his journey.
"I give you, Gilhaize," said he, "no farther instructions; for, unless I
am mistaken in my man, you lack no better guide than your own
discernment. So God be with you, and His blessing prosper the
undertaking."
My grandfather was much moved at being so trusted, and doubted in his
own breast if he was qualified for the duty which his master had thus
put upon him. Nevertheless he took heart from the Earl's confidence,
and, without saying anything either to his two companions or to Icener
Cunningham, he immediately, on parting from his master, left the house,
leaving his absence to be accounted for to the servants according to his
lord's pleasure.
Having been several times on errands of his father in Edinburgh before,
he was not ill-acquainted with the town, and the moon being up, he had
no difficulty in finding his way to Habby Bridle's, a noted stabler's at
the foot of Leith Wynd, nigh the mouth of the North Loch, where gallants
and other travellers of gentle condition commonly put up their horses.
There he thought it was likely Sir David Hamilton had stabled his steed,
and he divined that, by going thither, he would learn whether that
knight had set forward to Fife, or when he was expected so to do; the
which movement, he always said, was nothing short of an instinct from
Heaven; for just on entering the stabler's yard, a groom came shouting
to the hostler to get Sir David Hamilton's horses saddled outright, as
his master was coming.
Thus, without the exposure of any inquiry, he gained the tidings that he
wanted, and with what speed he could put into his heels, he went forward
to the pier of Leith, where he found a bark, with many passengers on
board, ready to set sail for Kirkcaldy, waiting only for the arrival of
Sir David, to whom, as the Archbishop's kinsman, the boatmen were fain
to pretend a great outward respect; but many a bitter ban, my
grandfather said, they gave him for taigling them so long, while wind
and tide both served--all which was proof and evidence how much the
hearts of the common people were then alienated from the papistical
churchmen.
Sir David having arrived, and his horses being taken aboard, the bark
set sail, and about daybreak next morning she came to anchor at
Kirkcaldy. During the voyage, my grandfather, who was of a mild and
comely aspect, observed that the knight was more affable towards him
than to the lave of the passengers, the most part of whom were coopers
going to Dundee to prepare for the summer fishing. Among them was one
Patrick Girdwood, the deacon of the craft, a most comical character, so
vogie of his honours and dignities in the town council that he could not
get the knight told often enough what a load aboon the burden he had in
keeping a' things douce and in right regulation amang the bailies. But
Sir David, fashed at his clatter, and to be quit of him, came across the
vessel and began to talk to my grandfather, although, by his apparel, he
was no meet companion for one of a knight's degree.
It happened that Sir David was pleased with his conversation, which was
not to be wondered at, for in his old age, when I knew him, he was a man
of a most enticing mildness of manner, and withal so discreet in his
sentences that he could not be heard without begetting respect for his
observance and judgment. So out of the vanity of that vogie tod of the
town council was a mean thus made by Providence to further the ends and
objects of the Reformation in so far as my grandfather was concerned;
for the knight took a liking to him, and being told, as it was
expedient to give a reason for his journey to St Andrews, that he was
going thither to work as a ferrier, Sir David promised him not only his
own countenance, but to commend him to the Archbishop.
There was at that time in Kirkcaldy one Tobit Balmutto, a horse-setter,
of whom my grandfather had some knowledge by report. This Tobit being
much resorted to by the courtiers going to and coming from Falkland, and
well known to their serving-men, who were wont to speak of him in the
smiddy at Lithgow as a zealous reformer--chiefly, as the prodigals among
them used to jeer and say, because the priests and friars in their
journeyings atween St Andrews and Edinburgh took the use of his beasts
without paying for them, giving him only their feckless benisons instead
of white money.
To this man my grandfather resolved to apply for a horse, and such a
one, if possible, as would be able to carry him as fast as Sir David
Hamilton's. Accordingly, on getting to the land, he inquired for Tobit
Balmutto, and several of his striplings and hostlers being on the shore,
having, on seeing the bark arrive, come down to look out for travellers
that might want horses, he was conducted by one of them to their
employer, whom he found an elderly man of the corpulent order, sitting
in an elbow-chair by the fireside, toasting an oaten bannock on a pair
of tormentors, with a blue puddock-stool bonnet on his head, and his
grey hose undrawn up, whereby his hairy legs were bare, showing a power
and girth such as my grandfather had seen few like before, testifying to
what had been the deadly strength of their possessor in his younger
years. He was thought to have been an off-gett of the Boswells of
Balmutto.
When he had made known his want to Tobit, and that he was in a manner
obligated to be at St Andrews as soon as Sir David Hamilton, the
horse-setter withdrew the bannock from before the ribs, and seeing it
somewhat scowthert and blackent on the one cheek, he took it off the
tormentors and scraped it with them, and blew away the brown burning
before he made any response; then he turned round to my grandfather, and
looking at him with the tail of his eye from aneath his broad bonnet,
said,--
"Then ye're no in the service of his Grace, my Lord the Archbishop? And
yet, frien', I think na ye're just a peer to Sir Davie, that you need to
ettle at coping with his braw mare, Skelp-the-dub, whilk I selt to him
mysel'; but the de'il a bawbee hae I yet han'let o' the price; howsever,
that's neither here nor there, a day of reckoning will come at last."
My grandfather assured Tobit Balmutto it was indeed very true he was not
in the service of the Archbishop, and that he would not have been so
instant about getting to St Andrews with the knight had he not a dread
and fear that Sir David was the bearer of something that might be sore
news to the flock o' Christ, and he was fain to be there as soon as him
to speak in time of what he jealoused, that any of those in the town who
stood within the reverence of the Archbishop's aversion, on account of
their religion, might get an inkling and provide for themselves.
"If that's your errand," said the horse-setter, "ye s'all hae the
swiftest foot in my aught to help you on, and I redde you no to spare
the spur, for I'm troubled to think ye may be owre late--Satan, or they
lie upon him, has been heating his cauldrons yonder for a brewing, and
the Archbishop's thrang providing the malt. Nae farther gane than
yesterday, auld worthy Mr Mill of Lunan, being discovered hidden in a
kiln at Dysart, was ta'en, they say, in a cart, like a malefactor, by
twa uncircumcised loons, servitors to his Grace, and it's thought it
will go hard wi' him on account of his great godliness; so mak what
haste ye dow, and the Lord put mettle in the beast that bears you."
With that Tobit Balmutto ordered the lad who brought my grandfather to
the house to saddle a horse that he called Spunkie; and in a trice he
was mounted and on the road after Sir David, whom he overtook
notwithstanding the spirit of his mare, Skelp-the-dub, before he had
cleared the town of Pathhead, and they travelled onward at a brisk trot
together, the knight waxing more and more pleased with his companion, in
so much that by the time they had reached Cupar, where they stopped to
corn, he lamented that a young man of his parts should think of
following the slavery of a ferrier's life, when he might rise to trusts
and fortune in the house of some of the great men of the time, kindly
offering to procure for him, on their arrival at St Andrews, the favour
and patronage of his kinsman, the Archbishop.