At the first blink of the grey eye of the morning my grandfather rose,
and, quitting the house of the Widow Rippet, went straight to the Earl's
lodgings, and was admitted. The porter at the door told him that their
master, having been up all night, had but just retired to bed; but while
they were speaking, the Earl's page, who slept in the ante-chamber,
called from the stairhead to inquire who it was that had come so early,
and being informed thereof, he went into his master, and afterwards came
again and desired my grandfather to walk up, and conducted him to his
Lordship, whom he found on his couch, but not undressed, and who said to
him on his entering, when the page had retired,--
"I am glad, Gilhaize, that you have come thus early, for I want a trusty
man to go forthwith into the west country. What I wish you to do cannot
be written, but you will take this ring;" and he took one from the
little finger of his right hand, on the gem of which his cipher was
graven, and gave it to my grandfather. "On showing it to Lord Boyd, whom
you will find at the Dean Castle, near Kilmarnock, he will thereby know
that you are specially trusted of me. The message whereof you are the
bearer is to this effect,--That the Lords of the Congregation have, by
their friends in many places, received strong exhortations to step
forward and oppose the headlong fury of the churchmen; and that they
have in consequence deemed it necessary to lose no time in ascertaining
what the strength of the Reformed may be, and to procure declarations
for mutual defence from all who are joined in professing the true
religion of Christ. Should he see meet to employ you in this matter, you
will obey his orders and instructions, whatsoever they may be."
The Earl then put his hand aneath his pillow and drew out a small
leathern purse, which he gave to my grandfather, who, in the doing of
this, observed that he had several other similar purses ready under his
head. In taking it, my grandfather was proceeding to tell him what he
had observed at the Widow Rippet's, but his Lordship interrupted him,
saying,--
"Such things are of no issue now, and your present duty is in a higher
road; therefore make haste, and God be with you."
With these words, his Lordship turned himself on his couch, and composed
himself to sleep, which my grandfather, after looking on for about a
minute or so, observing, came away; and having borrowed a frock and a
trot-cozey for the journey from one of the grooms of the hall, he went
straight to Kenneth Shelty's, a noted horse-setter in those days, who
lived at the West-port, and bargained with him for the hire of a beast
to Glasgow, though Glasgow was not then the nearest road to Kilmarnock;
but he thought it prudent to go that way, in case any of the papistical
emissaries should track his course.
There was, however, a little oversight in this, which did not come to
mind till he was some miles on the road, and that was the obligation it
put him under of passing through Lithgow, where he was so well known,
and where all his kith and kin lived--there being then no immediate
route from Edinburgh to Glasgow but by Lithgow. And he debated with
himself for a space of time whether he ought to proceed, or turn back
and go the other way, and his mind was sorely troubled with doubts and
difficulties. At last he considered that it was never deemed wise or
fortunate to turn back in any undertaking, and besides, having for the
service of the Saviour left his father's house and renounced his
parents, like a bird that taketh wing and knoweth the nest where it was
bred no more, he knit up his ravelled thoughts into resolution, and
clapping spurs to his horse, rode bravely on.
But when he beheld the towers of the palace, and the steeples of his
native town, rising before him, many remembrances came rushing to his
heart, and all the vexations he had suffered there were lost in the
sunny recollections of the morning of life, when everyone was kind, and
the eyes of his parents looked on him with the brightness of delight, in
so much, that his soul yearned within him, and his cheeks were wetted
with fast-flowing tears. Nevertheless, he overcame this thaw of his
fortitude, and went forward in the strength of the Lord, determined to
swerve not in his duty to the Earl of Glencairn, nor in his holier
fealty to a far greater Master. But the softness that he felt in his
nature made him gird himself with a firm purpose to ride through the
town without stopping. Scarcely, however, had he entered the port, when
his horse stumbled and lost a shoe, by which he was not only constrained
to stop, but to take him to his father's smiddy, which was in sight when
the mischance happened.
On going to the door, he found, as was commonly the case, a number of
grooms and flunkies of the courtiers, with certain friars, holding
vehement discourse concerning the tidings of the time, the burden of
which was the burning of the aged Master Mill, a thing that even the
monks durst not, for humanity, venture very strenuously to defend. His
father was not then within; but one of the prentice lads, seeing who it
was that had come with a horse to be shod, ran to tell him; and at the
sight of my grandfather, the friars suspended their controversies with
the serving-men, and gathered round him with many questions. He replied,
however, to them all with few words, bidding the foreman to make haste
and shoe his horse, hoping that he might thereby be off and away before
his father came.
But, while the man was throng with the horse's foot, both father and
mother came rushing in, and his mother was weeping bitterly, and
wringing her hands, chiding him as if he had sold himself to the Evil
One, and beseeching him to stop and repent. His father, however, said
little, but inquired how he had been, what he was doing, and where he
was going; and sent the prentice lad to bring a stoup of spiced ale from
a public hard by, in which he pledged him, kindly hoping he would do
well for himself and he would do well for his parents. The which
fatherliness touched my grandfather more to the quick than all the loud
lament and reproaches of his mother; and he replied that he had entered
into the service of a nobleman, and was then riding on his master's
business to Glasgow; but he mentioned no name, nor did his father
inquire. His mother, however, burst out into clamorous revilings,
declaring her dread that it was some of the apostate heretics; and,
giving vent to her passion, was as one in a frenzy, or possessed of a
devil. The very friars were confounded at her distraction, and tried to
soothe her and remove her forth the smiddy, which only made her more
wild, so that all present compassionated my grandfather, who sat silent
and made no answer, wearying till his horse was ready.
But greatly afflicted as he was by this trial, it was nothing to what
ensued, when, after having mounted, and shaken his father by the hand,
he galloped away to the West-port. There, on the outside, he was met by
two women and an old man, parents of the lads whom he had taken with him
to Edinburgh. Having heard he was at his father's smiddy, instead of
going thither, they had come to that place, in order that they might
speak with him more apart, and free from molestation, concerning their
sons.
One of the women was a poor widow, and she had no other child, nor the
hope of any other bread-winner for her old age. She, however, said
nothing, but stood with the corner of her apron at her eyes, sobbing
very afflictedly, while her friends, on seeing my grandfather coming out
of the port, stepped forward, and the old man caught the horse by the
bridle, and said gravely,--
"Ye maun stop and satisfy three sorrowful parents! What hae ye done with
your twa thoughtless companions?"
My grandfather's heart was as if it would have perished in his bosom;
for the company he had seen the lads with, and the talk they had held,
and above all their recklessness of principle, came upon him like a
withering flash of fire. He, however, replied soberly, that he had seen
them both the night before, and that they were well in health and jocund
in spirit.
The mother that was standing near her husband was blithe to hear this,
and reminded her gudeman, how she had often said, that when they did
hear tidings of their son her words would be found true, for he had ever
been all his days a brisk and a valiant bairn.
But the helpless widow was not content, and she came forward drying her
tears, saying, "And what is my poor fatherless do-na-gude about? I'm
fearfu, fearfu to be particular; for, though he was aye kind-hearted to
me, he was easily wised, and I doubt, I doubt he'll prove a blasting or
a blessing, according to the hands he fa's among."
"I hope and pray," said my grandfather, "that he'll be protected from
scaith, and live to be a comfort to all his friends." And, so saying, he
disengaged his bridle with a gentle violence from the old man's hold,
telling them he could not afford to stop, being timed to reach Glasgow
that night. So he pricked the horse with his rowals, and shot away; but
his heart, all the remainder of his day's journey, was as if it had been
pierced with many barbed arrows, and the sad voice of the poor anxious
widow rung in his ears like the sound of some doleful knell.
Saving this affair at Lithgow, nothing befell him till he came to the
gates of Glasgow; by which time it was dark, and the ward and watch set,
and they questioned him very sharply before giving him admission. For
the Queen Regent was then sojourning in the castle, and her fears and
cares were greatly quickened at that time, by rumours from all parts of
the kingdom concerning the murder, as it was called, of Master Mill. On
this account the French guards, which she had with her, were instructed
to be jealous of all untimeous travellers, and they being joined with a
ward of burghers, but using only their own tongue, caused no small
molestation to every Scotsman that sought admission after the sun was
set: for the burghers, not being well versed in military practices, were
of themselves very propugnacious in their authority, making more ado
than even the Frenchmen. It happened, however, that there was among
those valiant traders and craftsmen of Glasgow one Thomas Sword, the
deacon of the hammermen, and he having the command of those stationed at
the gate, overheard what was passing with my grandfather, and coming out
of the wardroom, inquired his name, which when he heard, and that he was
son to Michael Gilhaize, the Lithgow ferrier, he advised to let him in,
saying he knew his father well, and that they had worked together, when
young men, in the King's armoury at Stirling; and he told him where he
lived, and invited him, when his horse was stabled, to come to supper,
for he was glad to see him for his father's sake.