THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD.
Edinburgh castle, town, and tower,
God grant ye sinke for sin;
And yat even for ye black dinour
Erle Douglas gat therein.--OLD RHYME.
The hall in which this banquet was given, was the upper chamber of
David's Tower.
Our novel of "Jane Seaton" contains a description of this gigantic
edifice, which was the chief of the bastel-houses which crowned
"The height
Where the huge castle holds its state;"
but the MSS. of the abbot of Tongland throw some additional light upon
its history.
This tower rose to the height of more than seventy feet above the
summit of the steep rock. It contained a great hall and many lesser
chambers, and was founded by David II., about 1360, upon the basement
of a still older tower, perhaps the same edifice which vulgar tradition
ascribes to the painted Picts, who are alleged to have conveyed from
hand to hand the stones from the sandy quarry of Craig-mohl-ard (or the
rock of the plain),[2] and at the gate of which the first David--the
Scottish Justinian--was wont to sit, as his biographer, St. Ælred,
tells us, dispensing justice, and hearing the complaints of the poor,
even as St. Louis of France sat under an oak in the wood of Vincennes.
All the masons who built this tower died in the year it was completed;
as if, says the abbot of Tongland, fate ordained that the secrets of
its stairs and construction should die with them; and within it hung a
bell, which, when a king of Scotland died, tolled of its own accord,
like that great bell of Arragon, which always announced when "fate was
nigh" the line of Ramiro.
In this old tower dwelt a brownie, who was believed to come at night
to sleep near the embers of the hall fire, after plaiting the frills,
pinners, and ruffs of the queen and her ladies. Some alleged that the
cannon of the siege in 1573 put this useful household spirit to flight;
others, that he was baptized by the priest of St. Cuthbert's Kirk,
who concealed himself in the dusk within the hall ingle, where, when
the brownie, in the form of a lean and withered little man, wearing a
short yellow cloak, and red hosen (the royal livery), came at midnight
to resume his nocturnal avocations, a handful of holy water was dashed
in his face by the priest, who cried with a loud voice,--"In nomine
Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti! Amen."
On this, the brownie wept bitterly, and vanished, to return no more.
The hall was hung with banners and trophies. The noonday light of the
November sun, varied by many a passing cloud, poured through its arched
windows upon the long table, which was spread with all the plenty and
massive magnificence of the olden time; upon the rows of high-backed
chairs for the guests; upon the throne for the young king, with its
steps and purple velvet canopy; on the rich liveries of the trumpeters
who were to announce the feast; and on the steel armour of the guards,
who stood near the royal seat in honour of the guests; on each and all
fell the slant rays of the sun lighting up many a glittering ornament,
for the walls of the hall were entirely covered by yellow Spanish
leather, stamped by alternate thistles and _fleurs-de-lis_ in gold,
while in the great fireplace there burned a fire of coals, mingled with
pleasantly _perfumed_ wood; a curious luxury not uncommon then.
The royal cupbearer, and six soldiers of the guard armed with
partisans, were posted near a recess, or ambre, under the carved stone
canopy of which glittered the king's service of plate. Amid it was a
long slender flask of potters' ware, beautifully fashioned by the fair
hands of Jacqueline, countess of Hainault and Flanders, the boldest and
loveliest woman of her time, who, after abdicating in 1433, during her
seclusion in the castle of Teylingen, near Leyden, employed the weary
hours in making flasks of clay, and one of these she sent to the royal
minstrel, James I. of Scotland, in care of the Dyck Graf of Bommel.
Now the brass trumpets sent their sharp ringing notes along the vaulted
roof; spurs of gold and steel jangled on the tiled floor, while,
preceded by all the combined pomp and mummery of ancient royalty, James
II., a fair-haired and handsome boy, clad in a glittering doublet,
fashioned like a herald's tabard, having the lion _gules_ within the
double tressure on the back, breast, and sleeves thereof, was led to
the throne by the tall and sombre regent, while the crafty Crichton
placed the young earl of Douglas on his right-hand. Again the trumpets
sounded, and the guests, in succession, were marshalled to their places
by Glammis, the master of the household, who executed this delicate
matter--for delicate it was in that age of fierce punctilio--with
scrupulous exactness, as to rank and precedence.
The boy-earl, with his dark eyes, his swarthy face and black curly
hair, his bold bearing and defiant expression, formed so marked a
contrast to the boy-king, who was fair-skinned, with fair hair and
gentle eyes, that many present remarked the difference of their aspect
and character.
On the young king's left cheek there was a small red spot, or
fleshmark, which caused the people to name him in after years, "James
with the Fiery Face."
"Why tarries the countess?" asked Gray, in a hasty whisper, of Lord
David Douglas.
"She is not to be here," said the lad, smiling.
"Nor the Countess of Ormond?"
"No; nor Murielle, either," added David, playing with the gold tassels
of his mantle.
"Why?"
"I am not in her secrets."
"But Lady Murielle----"
"Came not, because there were none here whom she _cared_ to meet," said
the spiteful little lord, with a grimace.
The abbot of Tongland invoked a blessing; and after they had all
discussed platters of good Scottish broth, which they supped with
massive old spoons, that might have served at the spousal feast of
King Robert and Marjorie Bruce, and very probably did so, the clatter
of knives began, as the servers, pages, and pantrymen sliced down
the chines of beef, the roasted pigs and brawns, or unroofed the
huge pasties of pigeons and venison, and rushed here and there with
trenchers of stewed hares, roasted ducks, buttered crabs, salads and
salmon, manchets of flour, and confections of honey and sweetmeats, all
of which were eaten pellmell, without order or course.
Meanwhile the wines of France and Spain flowed freely, and brown ale
frothed up in tankards and flagons, in which the long moustaches of
the guests floated, as they quaffed to each other's health, and a
long continuance of this sudden good fellowship, at which, in many
instances, by their eyes and whispers, they seemed to scoff in secret.
Then a band of bearded minstrels and musicians, with harp and pipe,
tabor, flute, and trumpet, in the gallery, played "Pastance with Gude
Companie," and other old airs, which have been long since forgotten;
or, if extant, are now known under new names.
Amid all this the pale chancellor, and the grave, but soldier-like
regent, were abstracted and nervous; and the emotion of the former
increased as the banquet proceeded, and the _fatal moment_ drew near:
yet, animated by a sentiment of duty to be performed to their king and
country, no thought of pity or remorse found admission in the bosoms of
either.
The young king and his young noble spoke of dogs, of hawks, of horses;
and archery; of hunting and tilting; but the earl seemed to disdain
the puerile conversation of the yet-secluded sovereign, treating him
coldly, and with an air of lofty patronage, amusing enough in one of
his junior years, but sufficiently apparent to all.
Sir Patrick Gray felt that on this day the kinsmen of Murielle Douglas
treated him more coldly than ever, as they deemed themselves in the
zenith of their power and fantastic pride, lording it alike over the
king and all his court.
"You see there my Captain of the Guard?" he heard the king say, with a
kind smile, to the earl, who knit his brows, and contemptuously asked:--
"_Who_ is he?"
"Sir Patrick Gray," replied the little monarch, whose eyes dilated with
surprise.
"Of what--or where?"
"Of Foulis."
"Indeed!"
"A brave and noble gentleman," said James II., with an enthusiasm that
made the poor soldier's heart expand with the purest joy; "lord earl,
do you not know him?"
"Yes," said Douglas, frigidly; "but what of him?"
"He gave me a goshawk as a gift last New Year's-day, and I have killed
with it every corbie in the woods of Bristo."
"Indeed!"
"And then at Lady-day he gave me two such noble hounds of St. Hubert's
breed!"
"St. Bryde! how came such as _he_ by dogs so rare?"
Sir Patrick bit his nether lip with suppressed passion at this
continued insolence of tone, while the young king replied:--
"We sent him with a message to Jacqueline of Hainault--at least the
Regent Livingstone did so, last year,--an errand of courtesy, for
the countess was my father's friend. In passing through the forest
of Ardennes, he tarried for a night at the Benedictine abbey of St.
Hubert, and bought from the monks these two black hounds, the lineal
descendants of those which accompanied the saint when he hunted with
St. Eustace. They have silver collars, and despite my lady Glammis,
sleep every night at the foot of my bed!"
"Laus Deo!" said the earl, shrugging his shoulders; "doubtless they
must have somewhat of the odour of sanctity about them."
At this remark Sir Thomas MacLellan laughed, and the petulant earl
turned almost fiercely to him, saying:--
"Sirrah, dare you laugh?"
"Saints and devils, my lord," retorted the Lieutenant of the Guard,
"may not a man laugh?"
"No!"
"And why not, my lord earl?"
"Because to laugh is at times to assume a superiority, or a bearing of
approval, which I would not permit even in our liege lord the king!"
The eyes of the chancellor met those of the regent, whose pale forehead
flushed with anger at this insulting remark, though it illustrated how
dangerous was the spirit they were about to crush.
"By St. Jude, Douglas, I laughed not at thee, but at thy saying,"
exclaimed MacLellan, breaking the momentary silence which had ensued.
"Then beware, lordling," said Douglas, who knew there was an old
jealousy between the MacLellans and his people.
"I am no lord or earl either," replied MacLellan, flushing with anger
in turn.
"What then?"
"One whom you know well to be a gentleman of Galloway, my lord. The
king may gift coronets or titles, and _attaint_ them, too; but God
alone can make or unmake a loyal Scottish gentleman!"
The little king seemed almost scared by this angry outburst; but the
regent and his adherents exchanged glances of approval, and they
started involuntarily, for at that instant the great bell of David
Tower announced the hour of three.
The fatal time had come!
Then the king's master-butcher entered, bearing aloft a vast covered
platter, which, by its size, attracted the attention and excited the
surprise of all; and passing deliberately round the great apartment,
while many jests were made as to what new fare it contained, he placed
it before the young earl of Douglas.
"Remove the cover!" said the regent, whose voice was hollow, as if it
came from a coffin.
The master-butcher did so, and there was grimly revealed the old Celtic
symbol of death, a black bull's head of great size, with its square
nostrils, its grey polished horns, and curly forehead.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 2: Craigmillar.]