THE ENTRANCE.
So many and so good
Of the Douglases have been;
Of one surname in Scotland
Never yet were seen.--OLD RHYME.
Mounted on fine horses, the bridles and saddles of which were covered
by elaborate steel and silver bosses, Sir Patrick Gray, Captain of the
King's Guard, with his cousin and Lieutenant, Sir Thomas MacLellan, of
Bombie, fully armed and equipped, rode down the steep path from the
castle, and, traversing the town, proceeded towards the street by which
the earl of Douglas and his train were expected to enter.
For small bonnets of fine blue Flemish cloth, they had relinquished
their heavy bascinets, with their large plumes and velvet tippets,
which were borne behind them by pages.
The Captain of the Guard was preceded by a mounted esquire, Andrew
Gray, of Balgarno, bearing his banner _gules_, a lion rampant, within a
border engrailed.
Save the black or grey-robed Dominicans or Franciscans, and priests
of other religious orders, all the men of every rank who crowded the
thoroughfares that led towards St. Mary's Wynd and the straggling
street which ascended from thence to the convent of St. Mary de
Placentia (whence to this day it is still named the Pleasance), were
well armed with habergeons and caps of steel, swords, daggers, knives,
and Jedwood axes--for the paths of life, even for the greatest and
noblest in Scotland, were not strewn with roses in those days, but
rather with briars in the shape of blades and spears, woes, wars,
tumults, and turmoils, such as their descendants cannot realize in
these our days of peace and good order.
Parting on all sides before the esquire, who bore the banner, the
people made way for the Captain of the Guard, who with his kinsman
joined the attendants of the chief magistrate, Sir Thomas Cranstoun,
who was sheathed in complete mail--all save the head--and wore at his
gorget a massive chain of fine gold, the links of which glittered among
the white hair of his flowing beard.
He was bravely mounted on a great Clydesdale battle-horse; he wielded a
heavy steel mace and wore a glittering jupon, on which were embroidered
the arms of his family quartered with the triple castle of the city.
He was accompanied by all "the honest men" of the city (_honest_ men
meant tradesmen--but this was in 1440), preceded by the four baillies,
the treasurer, the older corporations, such as the fleshers, the
furriers, the cordiners, the candlemakers, and others, under their
several devices and banners, and all armed to the teeth. These martial
craftsmen lined the narrow and crowded wynd, and from thence up the
broader High Street, by which the earl was expected to proceed direct
to the castle.
And now, to swell the multitude, came several officers of state,
accompanied by the heads of all the religious houses and the heralds of
the king. Among them were William Lord Hay, the High Constable; Walter
Halyburton, the Lord High Treasurer, and William Turnbull, a canon
of Glasgow, who was Lord Privy Seal. Amid the buzz of the assembled
multitude, on the varied colours of whose costumes the bright evening
sunlight fell in flakes between the broken masses of the picturesque
old streets, there were occasionally heard half audible expressions of
anxiety for the issue of this noble's visit, as his family and vast
retinue of military retainers were so dreaded for their petulance and
turbulence, that all the booth-holders and craimers had closed their
places of business and buckled on their armour to be ready for any
emergency. In the same spirit the baillies wore shirts of mail under
their velvet gowns, and the alarm increased rather than diminished when
the Provost was heard to say to Sir Patrick Gray--"I am glad the King's
Guard are in readiness, for the wild men of Galloway and those scurvy
thieves and bullyrooks of Annandale who follow the banner of Douglas,
are certain to work mischief in the town."
Such was the state of feeling in Edinburgh when the long, glittering,
and steel-clad train of the mighty Douglas was seen descending the
slope past the convent of St. Mary, of which no relic now survives save
a fine alabaster carving which represents our Saviour brought before
the Jewish High Priest; and the excitement reached its height when the
Provost put spurs to his horse and courteously rode forward to greet
the noble visitor and bid him welcome to the city with fair words of
peace, and to place himself upon his right--a condescension at which
the surlier burghers murmured under their beards; for the Provost of
Edinburgh, when within its boundary, takes precedence of all nobles,
and rides on the right hand of a crowned sovereign only.
When the Provost rode forward, Sir Patrick Gray touched his horse
involuntarily with his spurs to follow him; but MacLellan, who was
chief of a Galloway clan at variance with the Douglases, arrested the
impulse by grasping his bridle and saying hurriedly,--"Stay, kinsman,
be wary."
"Wherefore?" asked Gray, with an air of annoyance; "for many months I
have not seen Murielle."
"Then the greater reason to stay and make no advance at present."
"The greater reason!" reiterated the other, with increased surprise.
"Bear with me--but women often change their minds."
"Thou art a libeller; she will never change, at all events, and I shall
risk--"
"The Regent's displeasure--the Chancellor's suspicions?" interrupted
MacLellan, with a smile.
"You are right," replied Gray, checking his horse, while his nether lip
quivered with annoyance.
"Listen, kinsman," resumed MacLellan, "this Provost may leave his
place, knight and baron though he be, to speak well and fairly this
great lord, whose train of lances fill his burgess-wives with fear lest
latches be lifted, booths broken, and goods and gear be harried in the
night; but _you_, who bear the king's colours on your surcoat, must not
make any such advance, especially at such a time as this, when Douglas,
like his father before him, hath acted the bullyboy to all Scotland."
"The advice is good, MacLellan," said the captain with a sigh; "but
still, will not Murielle expect that I--I should--"
"Approach her?"
"Yes--it is the merest courtesy."
"No; she must be aware that your place is beside the High Constable,
who, after our politic Provost here, represents the King."
"Hush! here come the archers--some of your wild Scots of Galloway."
"Wild though you term us," said MacLellan, laughing, "we rough
Galwegians lead the line of battle--our privilege long before the field
of Northallerton became the grave of ten thousand Scotsmen."
The archers who headed the earl's train were now passing among the
crowd, and a band of most picturesque looking desperadoes they were. In
number about eighty, they had short bows in their hands, with swords
and axes in their broad leather girdles. They were bare-kneed and
bare-armed, with long bushy beards and thick matted hair (which had
never known a comb) falling in shaggy volumes from under little helmets
of steel. In some instances they wore caps of boiled leather, fashioned
to the shape of the head, and crossed with a wicker work of iron bands
for defence. They wore socks of untanned deerskin, and pourpoints of
coarse grey stuffs, with kilts and mantles; and here and there might
be seen one, who, by the eagle's wing in his cap, claimed to be of
gentle blood; for these hardy and rudely clad warriors were the lineal
descendants of those _wild_ Celts of Galloway, who, since Corbred
Galdus, king of Scotland, was slain by the Romans at Torhouse, had the
privilege of leading the van of the Scottish hosts in battle.
After them came the earl's confessor, John Douglas, Abbot of Tongland
(accompanied by his crossbearer, his chaunter, and three priests), a
learned old churchman who had long favoured a very strange project for
the especial behoof of his Satanic majesty; but of this more anon.
Next came James Douglas (by his habits surnamed _the Gross_), earl of
Abercorn and Avondale, a powerfully formed but bulky and obese man,
with eyes and mouth betokening cruelty, pride, and wickedness. He
was in full armour, with his barred visor up. He was surrounded by
esquires, pages, and lacqueys, and his horse was led, for in his hands
he bore aloft a vast cross-handled sword, with a broad wavy blade.
This was the weapon whilome wielded in the wars of Bruce by the Black
Knight of Liddesdale, "The Flower of Chivalry;" and now it was borne as
a palladium, or sword of state, before his more aspiring descendant.
Hugh Douglas, earl of Ormond, similarly accoutred, but in black armour
engraved with gold, bore the banner of his chief, a wilderness of
heraldic blazonry--azure, argent, or, and gules; but above all, over
Galloway, Avondale, Longoville, and Touraine, shone the bloody heart
of glorious memory--the symbol of that god-like heart which beat in
victory at Bannockburn, and lay cold with the "Good Sir James," amid
the Moorish host of Teba. It was topped with an imperial crown and the
three stars; the paternal coat of Douglas, with the motto--"_Jamais
arrière_."
By his side rode Sir Malcolm Fleming of Cumbernauld, and Sir Alan
Lauder, of the Bass, who had borne the young earl's vain-glorious and
unwise embassy to France.
Eight knights of the surname of Douglas, who had won their spurs
where _then_ spurs only could be won, in battle, to wit, the Lairds
of Glendoning, Strabrock, Pompherston, Pittendreich, Douglasburn,
Cairnglas, Braidwood, and Glenbervie, all horsed and armed alike,
the sole difference being the heraldic cadence of descent on their
splendidly embroidered jupons and horse-trappings, bore on the points
of their lances a canopy of blue silk tasselled and fringed with silver.
Under this princely canopy, the earl and countess--so the people
preferred to call them, rather than the duke and duchess of
Touraine--rode side by side on white horses.
They were very youthful, for the husband was only seventeen, and his
wife a year older; but they had a stature and a bearing far beyond
their ages.
"The Fair Maid of Galloway," as she was still named, though a wedded
wife, was a dark-haired, black-eyed, and beautiful girl of a proud and
imperious aspect, nor could the grace of her lovely head and neck be
hidden by the grotesque horned head-gear which towered above her young
brow and waved upon her shoulders, glittering with gold and spangles.
She wore a long dark yellow riding robe, trimmed with black wolf's
fur, and having hanging tabard sleeves, under which could be seen the
sleeves of her inner dress, which was cloth of silver, for this was the
age of profusion.
The boy-earl, her husband, wore a suit of light-tilting armour, which,
though polished as bright as new silver, was almost concealed by his
jupon, which was cloth of gold. His helmet was borne by the page who
led his horse; and his dark curls and swarthy visage glowing with
youth, pride, and satisfaction, his dark sparkling eyes and haughty
bearing evinced, how, like his cousin and wife, he inherited the blood
of the Black Lord of Liddesdale.
When the people saw this handsome young noble and his lovely countess
riding thus side by side in all the flush of youth, the pride of rank,
and feudal splendour, under that gorgeous canopy upborne by those eight
gold-belted and gold-spurred knights of high degree, they forgot and
forgave all the wrongs and oppressions they had committed, and prayed
aloud "that God and St. Mary might sain them and bless them;" but when
young Lord David came, riding beside Lady Murielle, and holding the
bridle of her pretty bay palfrey, the hushed applause broke forth,
for, as a younger sister and unwedded maid she had no canopy over her
charming head, so the sunshine of heaven fell freely on her fair young
brow, which had no horned head-dress to conceal it, but only a little
blue silken hood and a golden caul to confine her beautiful hair.
Gray and MacLellan bowed low and kissed their ungloved hands to the
sisters as they passed.
Both ladies changed colour for a moment, but the youngest most deeply
and painfully, for she at first grew very pale. Those who were acute in
noting such indications of inward emotion might have discovered nothing
save vexation or annoyance in the eyes of the countess, and the flush
of tremulous pleasure in the returning blush of Murielle, on suddenly
meeting a lover whom she had not seen for many months. But the pallor
of one and the flush of the other were keys to greater secrets. "Thank
heaven, her companion is only that simpleton, little Lord David," said
Gray, as his eyes followed hers; "when I saw by her side a gallant so
bravely apparelled, I thought your croak about fickleness was about to
prove prophetic, MacLellan."