MAR. 27.]

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.

Domestic Annals of Scotland from the Reformation to the Revolution, Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 89 / 198 题