The Veitches and Tweedies of the upper part of Peeblesshire had long
been at issue,[337] and peace was only kept between them by means of
mutual assurances given to the Privy Council. The king heard of the
case, and was the more concerned about it, because he believed he had,
by his personal exertions, so entirely suppressed what he called _the
auld and detestable monster of deidly feid_ in Scotland, that ‘we do
hardly think there be any one feid except this in all that kingdom
unreconciled.’ As to these belligerent men of the Tweed, ‘the wrongs
and mischiefs done by either of, as we understand, to others’ [each
other], is ‘in such a proportion of compensation, as neither party can
either boast of advantage, or otherwise think himself too much behind.’
He now ordered his Scottish Council, ‘that you call before you the
principals of either surname, and then take such course for removing of
the feid, and reconceiling, as you have been accustomed to do in the
like cases’--that is, force them into bonds of amity, if they would not
go of their own accord.--_P. C. R._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: MAY 10.]
[Sidenote: 1611.]
It was found necessary to put some restraint upon the number of poor
Scotch people who repaired to the English court in hope of bettering
their circumstances. The evil is spoken of as a ‘frequent and daily
resort of great numbers of idle persons, men and women, of base sort
and condition, and without ony certain trade, calling, or dependence,
going from hence to court, by sea and land.’ It was said to be ‘very
unpleasant and offensive to the king’s majesty, in so far as he is
daily importuned with their suits and begging, and his royal court
almost filled with them, they being, in the opinion and conceit of all
behalders, bot idle rascals and poor miserable bodies;’ the country,
moreover, ‘is heavily disgracit, and mony slanderous imputations given
out against the same, as gif there were no persons of guid rank,
comeliness, nor credit within the same.’ The Council, therefore, deemed
it necessary to cause an order to be proclaimed in all the burghs and
seaports, forbidding masters of vessels to carry any people to England
without first giving up their names, and declaring their errands and
business to the Lords, under heavy penalties.--_P. C. R._
A number of the king’s Scottish courtiers had, as is well known,
accompanied or followed him into England, and obtained shares of his
good-fortune. Sir George Home, now Earl of Dunbar; Sir John Ramsay,
created Earl of Haddington; Sir James Hay, ultimately made Earl of
Carlisle; and recently, Mr Robert Ker, who became the king’s especial
favourite, and was made Earl of Somerset, are notable examples. The
English, regarding the Scottish courtiers with natural jealousy, called
them ‘beggarly Scots,’ of which they complained to the king, who is
said to have jocosely replied: ‘Content yourselves; I will shortly
make the English as beggarly as you, and so end that controversy.’ On
one occasion, this jealousy broke out with some violence at a race
at Croydon, in consequence of a Scotsman named Ramsay striking the
Earl of Montgomery with his riding-switch. ‘The English,’ says the
scandal-mongering Osborne, ‘did, upon this accident, draw together,
to make it a national quarrel; so far as Mr John Pinchbeck, a maimed
man, having but the perfect use of two fingers, rode about with his
dagger in his hand, crying: “Let us break our fast with them here, and
dine with the rest in London!” But Herbert, not offering to strike
again, there was nothing lost but the reputation of a gentleman.’[338]
A ballad of the day described the metamorphosis which Scotchmen were
understood to have undergone after their migration into England:
[Sidenote: 1611.]
‘Bonny Scot, we all witness can,
That England hath made thee a gentleman.
Thy blue bonnet, when thou came hither,
Could scarce keep out the wind and weather
But now it is turned to a hat and a feather;
Thy bonnet is blown, the devil knows whither.
Thy shoes on thy feet, when thou camest from plough,
Were made of the hide of an old Scots cow;
But now they are turned to a rare Spanish leather,
And decked with roses altogether.
Thy sword at thy back was a great black blade,
With a great basket-hilt of iron made;
But now a long rapier doth hang at thy side,
And huffingly doth this bonny Scot ride.’[339] &c.
Even Osborne acknowledges that the ordinary conceptions as to the
enrichment of the Scots courtiers were exaggerated. He says: ‘If many
Scots got much, it was not more with one hand than they spent with
the other;’ and he explains how Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, the king’s
English treasurer, ‘had a trick to get the kernel, and leave the Scots
but the shell, and yet cast all the envy on them. He would make them
buy books of fee-farms, some £100 per annum, some 100 marks; and he
would compound with them for £1000 ... then would he fill up this book
with such prime land as should be worth £10,000 or £20,000, which
was easy for him, being treasurer, so to do.... Salisbury by this
means enriched himself infinitely.’ The case is a significant one.
The experience by the Scots, a simple rustic people, of the superior
mercantile sharpness of the English, on coming into business relations
with them, is probably the main cause of that dry cautious manner which
the English censure in them as a national characteristic.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JULY 11.]
From an act of the Privy Council of this date, we get a curious idea
of the customs of the age regarding legal suits. It was declared that
one of the chief causes of ‘the frequent and unlawful convocations,
and the uncomely backing of noblemen and pairties upon the streets of
Edinburgh,’ was the fact that ‘noblemen, prelates, and councillors
repairing to this burgh, do ordinarily walk on the streets upon foot,
whereby all persons of their friendship and dependence, and who
otherwise has occasion to solicit them in their actions and causes,
do attend and await upon them, and without modesty or discretion,
importunes and fashes them with untimely solicitations and impertinent
discourses, and sometimes by their foolish insolence and misbehaviour
gives occasion of great misrule and unquietness within this burgh.’
[Sidenote: 1611.]
The remedy ordered was as curious as the evil itself. It was, that
noblemen, prelates, and councillors, when they come to the council,
or are abroad in the town on their private affairs, should, as became
their rank, ‘ride on horseback with footmantles or in coaches’--thus
freeing themselves of that flocking of suitors which so much beset them
when they appeared on foot.--_P. C. R._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: JULY 17.]
This day, John Mure of Auchindrain, James Mure, his son, and James
Bannatyne of Chapeldonald, were brought to trial in Edinburgh for
sundry crimes of a singularly atrocious character. The first of these
personages has been before us on two former occasions--namely, under
January 1, 1596-7, and May 11, 1602; to which reference may be made for
an introduction to what is now to be related.
Auchindrain, it appears, felt that the boy William Dalrymple, who had
carried the letter making the appointment for a meeting with Colzean,
was a living evidence of his having been the deviser of the slaughter
of that gentleman. He got the lad into his hands, and kept him for a
time in his house; then, on his wearying of confinement, sent him to
a friend in the Isle of Arran; thence, on his wearying of being ‘in a
barbarous country among rude people,’ he had him brought back to his
own house, and, as soon as possible, despatched him with a friend to
become a soldier in Lord Buccleuch’s regiment, serving under Maurice
Prince of Orange. Dalrymple had not been long in the Low Countries,
when he tired of being a soldier, and came back to Scotland. Once more
he was at large in Ayrshire, and a source of uneasiness to Mure of
Auchindrain. It was now necessary to take more decisive measures. Mure
and his son (September 1607) sent a servant to the young man to take
him to the house of James Bannatyne of Chapeldonald, and arranging to
join them on the way, ‘held divers purposes, speeches, and conferences
with him, tried of him the estate of the Low Countries and sundry other
matters,’ and finally placed him as a guest in Chapeldonald House,
under the name of William Montgomery.
[Sidenote: 1611.]
According to appointment, at _ten o’clock of the evening of next day_,
James Bannatyne came with Dalrymple to meet the two Mures on the sands
near Girvan. There, the elder Mure explained to Bannatyne the cause of
his fears regarding the young man, telling him ‘he saw no remeed but
to redd Dalrymple furth of this life, since he could not otherwise be
kept out of his way. Whereunto Bannatyne making answer, that it was ane
cruel purpose to murder the poor innocent youth, specially seeing they
might send him to Ireland, to be safely kept there.... Auchindrain
seemed to incline somewhat to that expedient; and, in the uncertainty
of his resolution, turning toward the part where his son stood, of
purpose, as appeared, to consult with him, young Auchindrain perceived
them no sooner near, but, thereby assuring himself of their assistance,
in the execution of that whilk his father and he had concluded, he
did violently invade Dalrymple, rushed him to the ground, and never
left him till, helped by his father, with his hands and knees he had
strangled him.’
[Sidenote: 1611.]
The horrid deed being accomplished, the Mures, _with spades they had
brought_, tried to bury Dalrymple in the sand; but, finding the hole
always fill up with water, they were at length obliged to carry the
body into the sea, going in as far as they could wade, and hoping that
an outgoing wind would carry it to the coast of Ireland. Five nights
after, it was thrown back upon the beach at the very scene of the
murder, and was soon found by the country people. The Earl of Cassillis
heard of it, and caused an account of the discovery to be published
throughout the district. By the mother and sister of Dalrymple, it
was at once pronounced to be his corpse, and suspicion instantly
alighted upon the Mures. A relative, advised with about the rumour,
said it could not be safe for them to brave the law in the teeth of
so much prejudice; neither, supposing they absconded under such a
suspicion, could their friends stand up for them. The only expedient
was to make an excuse for going out of the way--assault, for instance,
Hugh Kennedy of Garriehorn, a servant of the Earl of Cassillis, a man
against whom they had many ‘probable quarrels.’ The Mures actually
adopted this expedient, setting upon Garriehorn in the town of Ayr, and
only failing to slay him by reason of the vigour of his defence. The
earl then saw that it was necessary to take strong measures against
enemies capable of such doings, and he accordingly had them summoned
both for Dalrymple’s murder and for the assault of Garriehorn. They
allowed themselves to be put to the horn--that is, denounced as rebels
for not appearing--but loudly professed that, if freed on the score
of the assault, they would stand their trial for the murder, alleging
their entire innocence of that transaction. The king was now made
acquainted with the case, and, by his orders, Auchindrain the elder was
seized, and thrown into the Tolbooth in Edinburgh. The two culprits
nevertheless continued to feel confidence in the want of proof against
them, believing that, if Bannatyne were out of the way, it would be
impossible to bring the fact home to them. The younger Mure, still at
large, accordingly dealt with Bannatyne to induce him to go to Ireland.
It is a wonder he did not at once send his friend to a more distant
bourn. When Bannatyne was gone, young Mure came boldly forward to take
his trial, somewhat to the embarrassment of the officers of justice.
However, by the suggestion of his majesty, he was not allowed to
depart till he should have suffered the torture, with a view to making
him confess. To the admiration of all, he bore this treatment with
unflinching fortitude, and confessed nothing.
Public sentiment now rose in favour of the Mures as persecuted men,
and the Privy Council was inclined to let them off; and would have
done so, had not the king continued firm in his belief of their guilt,
and ordered them to be detained. Some years passed on, and proof
seemed still past hope, when the Earl of Abercorn contrived to find
out Bannatyne in Ireland, and caused him to be brought over to his own
house in Paisley. There, Bannatyne gave a full account of the murder,
but claimed, as fulfilment of a condition, that he should be allowed
his freedom. The earl told him he had had no such understanding of the
matter; but, to take away all ground of complaint, he would liberate
him for the meantime, but at the end of ten days make every possible
effort to take him unconditionally, whether dead or alive. At this
Bannatyne hesitated; he knew that already the Mures had been laying
plots to get him cut off in Ireland--now, between their vengeance and
the extreme persecution threatened by Lord Abercorn, he could see no
chance for safety. He therefore avowed his inclination to make a full
confession before a court of law, and trust to his majesty’s clemency.
On being confronted with Bannatyne, the Mures appeared as obstinate
in their protestations of innocence as ever, contradicting everything
he said, and denouncing him as a tool of their enemies. They were,
nevertheless, brought to trial, along with Bannatyne, on the day noted
in the margin--found guilty, and condemned to be beheaded at the Cross
of Edinburgh, with forfeiture of all they possessed to his majesty’s
use. So ended this extraordinary tissue of crimes, old Auchindrain
being at the time about eighty years of age.[340]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: AUG.]
[Sidenote: 1611.]
Macleod of Raasay had been proprietor of the lands of Gairloch on
the mainland of Ross-shire. He had the misfortune to live in the same
time with Kenneth Mackenzie of Kintail, who has already been described
as a man much too clever for his neighbours. Lord Kintail--for he
had recently been made a peer--had a wadset or bond over a third of
Gairloch, and by proper use of this legal footing in the estate, joined
to neglect of legal defences by the insular chieftain, was in the way
of becoming proprietor of the whole. While Raasay, however, neglected
law, he had no reluctance to use the sword: so a hot feud subsisted
between him and the crafty Mackenzie. The latter had already pursued
the Macleods out of Gairloch with fire and sword.
Under the date noted in the margin, Lord Kintail hired a ship, that his
son Murdo Mackenzie might go to Skye with a proper following, in order
to apprehend one John Holmogh MacRorie, a duniwassal of Raasay,[341]
who had given him some trouble in the Gairloch. The vessel, with
whatever design it set out, soon changed its course, and arrived
opposite Macleod’s castle in the isle of Raasay--the same place where
Johnson and Boswell afterwards found such an elegant scene of Highland
hospitality. MacGilliecallum--such is the Highland appellative of the
Laird of Raasay--seeing the vessel, went out to it with twelve of his
followers, to buy some wine. ‘When Murdo Mackenzie did see them coming,
he, with all his train, lest they should be seen, went to the lower
rooms of the ship, leaving the mariners only above the decks. The Laird
of Raasay entered; and, having spoken the mariners, he departed, with
a resolution to return quickly. Murdo Mackenzie, understanding that
they were gone, came out of the lower rooms; and perceiving them coming
again, he resolved to conceal himself no longer. The Laird of Raasay
desired his brother Murdo to follow him into the ship with more company
in another galley, that they might carry to the shore some wine which
he had bought from the mariners; so returning to the ship, and finding
Murdo Mackenzie there beyond his expectation, he consulteth with his
men, and thereupon resolveth to take him prisoner, in pledge of his
cousin John MacAllan MacRorie, whom the Laird of Gairloch detained in
captivity.’--_G. H. S._
[Sidenote: 1611.]
The History of the Mackenzie family (MS.) says that Raasay, on
coming the second time into the vessel, fell to drinking with Murdo
Mackenzie in loving terms. ‘Four of Murdo’s men, fearing the worst,
kept themselves fresh [sober].... Raasay, sitting on the right hand
of Murdo, said to him: “Murdo, thou art my prisoner!” Murdo, hearing
this, starts, and, taking Raasay by the middle, threw him upon the
deck, and said he scorned to be his prisoner. With that a fellow of
Raasay’s strake him with a dirk. He, finding himself wounded, drew back
to draw his sword, [so] that he went overboard. He, thinking to swim
to the coast of Sconsarie, was drowned by the small boats that were
coming from Raasay. His men, seeing him killed, resolved to sell their
lives at the best rate they could. The four men that kept themselves
fresh, fought so manfully in their own defence, and in revenge of their
master, that they killed the Laird of Raasay and Gilliecallum More,
the author of this mischief, his two sons, with all the rest that came
to the vessel with Raasay. Tulloch’s son, with six of Murdo’s company,
were killed as they were coming above deck from the place where they
lay drunk. The four [sober] men ... were all pitifully hurt. When they
were drawing the anchor, the fourth man, called Hector Oig M‘Echin Vich
Kinnich, ane active young gentleman, was shot with a chance bullet from
the boats. The other three, cutting the tow of the anchor, did sail
away with the dead corpses of both parties.’
‘Thus,’ says Sir Robert Gordon in conclusion to this murderous story,
‘hath the Laird of Gairloch obtained _peaceable_ possession of that
land.’
* * * * *
[Sidenote: SEP. 24.]
‘Sir James Lawson of Humbie, riding in Balhelvie Sands, where many
other gentlemen were passing their time, sank down in a part of the
sands and perished. He was found again on the morn, but his horse was
never seen.’--_Cal._
* * * * *
[Sidenote: OCT. 25.]
[Sidenote: 1611.