It was found that in Meggotland, Eskdale-muir, and other parts near the
Border, ‘where our sovereign lord’s progenitors were wont to have their
chief pastime of hunting,’ the deer were now slain with guns, not only
by Scotsmen, but by Englishmen whom Scotsmen smuggled in across the
Border, and this often at forbidden times; all which was ‘against the
commonweal and policy of the realm.’ The Privy Council accordingly took
measures to put a stop to these practices.--_P. C. R._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: MAY 1.]
‘The first day of May, 1576 years, was sae evil, the wind and weet at
the west-north-west, with great showers of snaw and sleet, that the
like was nocht seen by them that was living, in mony years afore, sae
evil.’--_Chr. Aber._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: MAY.
1576.]
The Earl of Huntly died in a sudden and mysterious manner at
Strathbogie Castle. Having fallen down in a fit while playing at
foot-ball, he was carried to bed, where he foamed at the mouth and
nostrils, struggled with his hands, and stared wildly, as if he would
have spoken, but could never command but one word--‘Look, look, look.’
He also vomited a good deal of blood. After four hours’ illness, he
expired.
‘The Earl of Huntly being dead thus on Saturday at even, Adam [Gordon,
his brother] immediately causit bear but [out, outward] the dead
corpse to the chalmer of dais [room of state], and causit bear into
the chalmer where he had lain, the whole coffers, boxes, or lettrens
[desks], that the earl himself had in handling, and had ony gear in
keeping in; sic as writs, gold, silver, or golden work, whereof the
keys were in ane lettren. The key of that lettren was at his awn bag,
whilk Adam took and openit that, and took out the rest of the keys, and
made ane inventory upon all the gear he fand within that coffer, or at
least on the maist part and special part of that that was within; and
when he had ta’en out sic money as to make his awn expenses south, he
lockit all the coffers again, and thereafter lockit the chalmer door,
and put up the key, and causit lock the outer chalmer door where the
dead corpse lay. After they had set candles in the chalmer to burn,
and gave the key of that chalmer door to John Hamilton, wha was man
having greatest care within that place and credit of the Earl of Huntly
in his time--this done, with sic other directions made for waiting on
the place, Adam made him ready, and took the post south at 12 hours on
the night, as I believe.... At ten hours or thereby before noon, on
the morn after the earl was dead, there was in ane chalmer together,
callit the leather chalmer, ... fourteen or sixteen men lamenting the
death that was so suddenly fallen, every man for his part rehearsing
the skaith [damage] that was to come by that death to them. Amangst
the whilk there was ane westland man standing upright [with] his back
at the fire, wha said the cause was not so hard to nane as [it] was
to him, for he was newlings come out of Lochinvar, for some evil turn
that he had done that he might not brook his awn country for ... he
falls flat down on his face to the ground dead. The men pullit him up,
cuist up door and window, and gave him air; there could appear no life
in him, except he was hot.’ After lying several hours in the fit, ‘he
recovered with great sobbing and working with his hands, feet, and
body, and he cried, “Cauld, cauld.”’ This lasted till next morning,
when he recovered thoroughly.
[Sidenote: 1576.]
‘On the morn ... Tyesday next after the earl’s death, John Hamilton
was gone up to the gallery of the new wark [building] to bring
down spicery or some other gear for the kitchen, and had with him
ane Mr James Spittal, and ane other man of the place, whose name I
have forgotten.... This John Hamilton opened ane coffer, taking out
something that he needit; he says: “I am very sick,” and with that he
falls down, crying, “Cauld, cauld.” The other twa took him quickly up,
cast up the window, and had him up and down the house. At length he
said he was very sick; he wald have been in ane bed. Mr James Spittal
convoyit him down the stair. When he was there down, he remembered
that he had forgotten ane coffer open behind him; he turned again and
the said Mr James with him, and when they had come again, they found
the third man that was with them fallen dead ower the coffer, and he
on his wambe lying ower the coffer. John Hamilton might make no help,
by reason he himself was evil at ease. Mr James Spittal ran down, and
brought up twa or three other men, and carried him down the stair, and
up and down the close, but could find no life in him. At length they
laid him in ane bed, where within ane while he recovered, with sighing
and sobbing, wrestling with hands, feet, and body, and ever as he got
ony words betwixt the swooning, he cried, “Cauld, cauld;” and this
lasted twelve or thirteen hours, and I trow langer, if he was sae weel
waited on as the lave [rest], as he was not, but gave him leave to work
him alane, because he was ane simple poor man. All these wrought as the
Earl of Huntly did in his dead passions, except they vomited not, nor
fumed at the mouth and nostrils.
[Sidenote: 1576.]
‘Upon that Tyesday after the deid [death], ane surgeoner of Aberdeen,
callit William Urquhart, came to Strathbogie and bowelled the dead
corpse, which, after the bowelling, was ta’en out of the chalmer and
had into the chapel, where it remaineth to the burial. John Hamilton
receivit the key of the chalmer door again when the dead corpse was
ta’en out. On Wednesday next after the deid, Patrick Gordon, the earl’s
brother, was sitting on ane form next to that chalmer door where that
the dead corpse was bowelled; he hears ane great noise and din in that
chalmer, whether it was of speech, of graning, or rumbling, I cannot
tell. There was sixteen or twenty men in the hall with him; he gars
call for John Hamilton, and asks gif there was onybody in that chalmer;
the other said: “Nay.” He bade him hearken what he heard at the door,
wha heard as he did. Then the key was brought him. He commandit John
Hamilton to gang in, wha refused; he skipped in himself; John Hamilton
followed ane step or twa, and came with speed again to the door for
fear. Patrick passed to the inner side of the chalmer, and heard the
like noise as he did when he was thereout, but yet could see nothing,
for it was even, at the wayganging of the daylight. He came back gain
very affrayedly, and out at the door, and show[ed] so mony as bidden in
the hall what he had heard, wha assayit to pass to the chalmer, to know
what was there; but nane enterit ower the threshold; all came back for
fear. This pastime lasted them more nor ane hour. Candles were brought,
the chalmer vissied [examined]; nothing there. As soon as they came
to the door again, the noise was as great as of before, the candles
burning there ben [within]; they said to me that knows it, there is not
sae meikle a quick thing as a mouse may enter within that chalmer, the
doors and windows [being] steekit, it is so close all about. Judge ye
how ghaists and gyre-carlins come in among them. They were ane hour or
twa at this bickering, while ane man of the place comes in among them,
and said to Patrick: “Fye, for gif he was not tentie [careful], the
bruit [report] wald pass through the country that the Earl of Huntly
had risen again.” Then Patrick called them that had heard it, and
commandit that nae sic word should be spoken.’--_Ban._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JULY 18.]
The work of printing the Bible, undertaken by Arbuthnot and Bassendyne
in March of the year preceding, had proved a heavier undertaking than
they expected, and had met with ‘impediments.’ They now therefore came
with their sureties before the Privy Council, and pleaded for nine
months further time to complete the work, obliging themselves, in case
of failure, to return the money which had been contributed by the
various parishes. This grace was extended to them.
On the 5th January 1576-7, the work of the Bible was still in hand, and
we have then a complaint made to the Regent by ‘Salomon Kerknett of
Magdeburg, composer of wark of the Bible,’ to the effect that Thomas
Bassendyne had refused since the 23d of December by past, to pay him
the weekly wages of 49s., agreed upon between them when he was engaged
in Flanders. The Regent, finding the complaint just, ordered Bassendyne
to pay Kerknett his arrears, and continue paying him at the same rate
till the work should be finished.
[Sidenote: 1576.]
Six days later, a more serious complaint was made against
Bassendyne--namely, by Alexander Arbuthnot, that he would not deliver
to Alexander, as he had contracted to do, the printing-house and
the Bible, so far as printed, ‘wherethrough the wark lies idle, to
the great hurt of the commonweal of the realm.’ The Regent, having
heard parties, and being ripely advised by the Lords of the Council,
ordered that Bassendyne should deliver the printing-house and Bible to
Alexander Arbuthnot before the end of the month.--_P. C. R._
Such were the difficulties which stood in the way of the first edition
of the Bible printed in Scotland.
* * * * *
It was found necessary to issue an edict to the gold-seekers in
Crawford-muir, Roberton, and Henderland, forbidding them to continue
selling their gold to merchants for exportation, but to bring all, as
was legally due, to the king’s cunyie-house, to be sold there at the
accustomed prices, for the use of the state.--_P. C. R._
* * * * *
‘The whilk summer was right guid weather; but there was weir betwixt my
Lord of Argyle and my Lord Athole, and great spoliation made by the men
of Lochaber on puir men. God see till that.’
‘All June, July, and August right evil weather.... Nae aits shorn in
Fortirgall the 23 day of September.... All October evil weather; mickle
corn unshorn and unled.’--_C. F._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: NOV. 8.]
The trial of Elizabeth or Bessie Dunlop of Lyne, in Ayrshire, for the
alleged crime of witchcraft. Bessie was a married woman, apparently
in middle life, and her only offence was giving information, as from
a supernatural source, regarding articles which had been stolen, and
for the cure of diseases. ‘She herself had nae kind of art nor science
sae to do;’ she obtained her information, when she required it, from
‘ane Tom Reid, wha died at Pinkie,’ that is, at the battle fought there
twenty-nine years before. Her intercourse with a deceased person seems
to have given herself little surprise, and she spoke of it with much
coolness.
[Sidenote: 1576.]
Being asked, ‘what kind of man this Tom Reid was, [she] declairit,
he was ane honest, weel, elderly man, gray-beardit, and had ane gray
coat with Lombard sleeves of the auld fashion; ane pair of gray breeks
and white shanks [stockings], gartenit aboon the knee; ane black
bonnet on his head, close behind and plain before; with silken laces
drawn through the lips thereof; and ane white wand in his hand. Being
interrogat how and in what manner of place the said Tom Reid came to
her, [she] answerit, as she was ganging betwixt her awn house and the
yard of Monkcastle, driving her kye to the pasture, and making heavy
sair dule with herself, greeting very fast for her cow that was dead,
her husband and child that were lying sick in the land-ill, and she
new risen out of gissan [childbed], the said Tom met her by the way,
halsit her [took her round the neck, saluting her], and said: “Gude
day, Bessie;” and she said: “God speed you, gudeman.” “Sancta Maria,”
said he, “Bessie, why makes thou sae great dule and sair greeting for
ony warldly thing?” She answerit: “Alas, have I not cause to make great
dule? for our gear is traikit [dwindled away], and my husband is on
the point of deid, and ane baby of my awn will not live, and myself at
ane weak point; have I not gude cause, then, to have ane sair heart?”
But Tom said: “Bessie, thou hast crabbit [irritated] God, and askit
something you should not have done; and therefore I counsel thee to
mend to him, for I tell thee thy bairn shall die, and the sick cow, ere
you come hame; thy twa sheep shall die too; but thy husband shall mend,
and be as haill and feir as ever he was.” And then was I something
blyther, frae he tauld me that my gudeman wald mend. Then Tom Reid went
away from me in through the yard of Monkcastle; and I thought he gaed
in at ane narrower hole of the dyke nor ony eardly man could have gane
through; and sae I was something fleyit [frightened].’ ... The third
time that Tom and Bessie met, ‘he appeared to her as she was ganging
betwixt her awn house and the Thorn of Damustarnock, where he tarriet
ane gude while with her, and speerit [inquired] at her, “Gif she wald
not trow in him?” She said: “She wald trow in onybody did her gude.”
And Tom promisit her baith gear, horses, and kye, and other graith, gif
she wald deny her christendom and the faith she took at the font-stane.
Whereunto she answerit: “That gif she should be riven at horse-tails,
she should never do that,” but promisit to be leal and true to him in
ony thing she could do.
[Sidenote: 1576.]
‘... The feird [fourth] time, he appearit in her awn house to her,
about the 12 hour of the day, where there was sitting three tailors
and her awn gudeman ... he took her apron and led her to the door with
him, and she followit, and gaed up with him to the kiln-end, where he
forbade her to speak or fear ony thing she heard or saw ... when they
had gane ane little piece forward, she saw twelve persons, aucht women
and four men: the men were clad in gentlemen’s claithing, and the women
had all plaids round about them, and were very seemly-like to see. And
Tom was with them. Demandit if she knew any of them, answerit: “Nane,
except Tom.” Demandit what they said to her, answerit: They bade her
sit down, and said, “Welcome, Bessie; will thou go with us?” But she
answerit not, because Tom had forbidden her.’
‘And further declairit, that she knew not what purpose they had amongst
them; only she saw their lips move; and within a short space, they
partit all away; and ane hideous ugly sough of wind followit them; and
she lay sick till Tom came back again frae them.... Being demandit gif
she speerit at Tom what persons they were, answerit: “That they were
the gude wights that winnit in the court of Elfame, wha came there to
desire her to go with them.” And further, Tom desirit her to do the
same; wha answerit: “She saw nae profit to gang thae kind of gaits [to
go such ways], unless she kend wherefore.” Tom said: “Sees thou not me,
baith meat-worth, claith-worth, and gude eneuch like in person? and
[he] should make her far better nor ever she was.” She answerit: “That
she dwelt with her awn husband and bairns, and could not leave them.”
And sae Tom began to be very crabbit with her, and said: “Gif sae she
thought, she wald get little gude of him.”’
[Sidenote: 1576.]
Bessie from time to time consulted her ghostly friend about cases of
sickness for which her skill was required. ‘Tom gave out of his awn
hand, ane thing like the root of ane beet, and bade her either seethe
or make ane saw [salve] of it, or else dry it, and make powder of it,
and give it to sick persons, and they should mend.... She mendit John
Jack’s bairn, and Wilson’s of the town, and her gudeman’s sister’s
cow.... The Lady Johnston, elder, sent to her ane servant to help ane
young gentlewoman, her doughter, now married on the young Laird of
Stanley, and I thereupon askit counsel of Tom. He said to me, “that her
sickness was ane cauld blude that gaed about her heart, that causit
her to dwalm [faint]” ... and Tom bade her take ane part of ginger,
clows, anniseeds, liquorice, and some stark [strong] ale, and seethe
them together, and share it, and put it in ane vessel, and take ane
little quantity of it in ane mutchkin can, and some white suckar casten
amang it; take and drink thereof ilk day, in the morning; gang ane
while after, before meat; and she wald be haill.... Demandit what she
gat for her doing, declairit “ane peck of meal and some cheese.” ...
Interrogate, gif she could tell of ony thing that was away, or ony
thing that was to come, [she] answerit, that she could do naething of
herself, but as Tom tauld her ... mony folks in the country [came to
her] to get wit of gear stolen frae them.... The Lady Thirdpart in the
barony of Renfrew sent to her and speerit at her, wha was it that had
stolen frae her twa horns of gold, and ane crown of the sun, out of
her purse? And after she had spoken with Tom, within twenty days, she
sent her word wha had them; and she gat them again.... Being demandit
of William Kyle, burgess in Irvine, as he was coming out of Dumbarton,
wha was the stealer of Hugh Scott’s cloak, ane burgess of the same
town? Tom answerit: ‘That the cloak wald not be gotten, because it was
ta’en away by Mally Boyd, dweller in the same town, and was put out of
the fashion of ane cloak in [to] ane kirtle,’ &c.
Bessie, being asked how she knew that her visitor was Tom Reid who had
died at Pinkie, answered: ‘That she never knew him when he was in life,
but that she should not doubt that it was he bade her gang to Tom Reid
his son, now officer in his place to the Laird of Blair, and to certain
others his kinsmen and friends there, whom he named, and bade them
restore certain goods and mend other offences that they had done....
Interrogate gif Tom, at his awn hand, had sent her to ony person to
shaw them things to come, declarit that he sent her to nae creature in
middle-eard but to William Blair of the Strand, and his eldest dochter,
wha was contractit and shortly to be married with .... Crawford, young
Laird of Baidland, and declare unto them, “That gif she married that
man she should either die ane shameful death, slay herself, or gae
red-wod [mad];” whereby the said marriage was stayit, and the laird
foresaid married her youngest sister.’
Bessie denied any further advances on Tom’s part than his taking her
once by the apron, and asking her to go with him to Elfame, that
is, Fairyland. He used to come chiefly to her at noon. She had seen
him walking among the people in the kirk-yard of Dalry; also once
in the High Street of Edinburgh, on a market-day, where he laughed
to her. Having once ridden with her husband to Leith to bring home
meal--‘ganging afield to tether her horse at Restalrig Loch, there came
ane company of riders bye, that made sic ane din as heaven and eard
had gane together; and incontinent they rade into the loch, with mony
hideous rumble. Tom tauld it was the gude wights that were riding in
middle-eard.’
Being found guilty of the sorcery and other evil arts laid to her
charge, Bessie Dunlop was consigned to the flames.--_Pit._
The modern student of insanity can have no difficulty with this
case: it is simply one of hallucination, the consequence of diseased
conditions.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 1576.?]
The family of Innes of that Ilk, seated in their fine old castle on the
coast of Moray, near Elgin, was one of prime importance in the country.
The present laird, Alexander, ‘though gallant, had something of
particularity in his temper, was proud and positive in his deportment,
and had his lawsuits with several of his friends; amongst the rest with
Innes of Peithock, which had brought them both to Edinburgh in the
year 1576, as I take it; where the laird having met his kinsman at the
Cross, fell in words with him for daring to give him a citation, and
in choler either stabbed the gentleman with a dagger, or pistolled him
(for it is variously reported). When he had done, his stomach would not
let him fly, but he walked up and down upon the spot, as if he had done
nothing that could be quarrelled (his friend’s life being but a thing
that he could dispose of without being bound to account for it to any
other); and there stayed until the Earl of Morton, who was Regent, sent
a guard and carried him away to the Castle.
‘When he found truly the danger of his circumstances, and that his
proud rash action behoved to cost him his life, he was then free to
redeem that at any rate; and made an agreement for a remission with
the Regent, at the price of the barony of Kilmalemnock, which this day
extends to twenty-four thousand merks rent yearly.
‘The evening after the agreement was made, and writ given, being merry
with his friends at a collation, and talking anent the dearness of the
ransom the Regent had made him pay for his life, he vaunted that, had
he his foot once loose, he would fain see what Earl of Morton durst
come and possess his lands; which being told to the Regent that night,
he resolved to play sure game with him; and therefore, though what he
spoke was in drink, the very next day he put the sentence in execution
against him by causing his head to be struck off in the Castle, and
then possessed the estate.’--_Hist. Acc. Fam. Innes._
This is a traditionary tale, perhaps true in the main facts; but there
is reason to believe that it is to some extent misreported. On the 8th
of January 1575-6, Robert Innes, of Innermarky, and James Adamson,
burgess of Edinburgh, gave security to the extent of a thousand pounds,
that Alexander Innes of that Ilk, being relieved from ward in Edinburgh
Castle, should not go beyond the bounds of the town.
[Sidenote: 1576?]
On the 18th of February, this surety was discharged by the Regent
in council, in order that the laird might ‘do his utter and exact
diligence for apprehending of John Innes in Garmouth, callit the _Sweet
Man_; Thomas Innes, callit the _Little_; John Adam, callit _Meat and
Rest_; and John Innes, callit the _Noble_; and bringing them before the
justice to be punished for the slauchter of umwhile David Mawer of the
Loch;’ which duty he had undertaken to perform before the 1st of August
next, under pain of a thousand pounds.--_P. C. R._
It is of course not impossible that after these events the laird was
treated in the manner described by the family memoirs.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: 1576-7.