over to the extreme Covenanters, made his way to Holland, where he
joined the colony of Scotch refugees. Ultimately he attached himself
to the Earl of Argyle as a kind of secretary, and conducted part of the
correspondence between the Earl and the English plotters. He was in
London in 1683, apparently on the Earl's business, when he was arrested
and imprisoned for some months, but as he could not be efficiently
examined in England, where torture was not legal, he was finally sent
down to Scotland along with Carstares and other suspects in His
Majesty's "Kitchin Yaucht," which did not go at a royal pace, for the
journey to Leith took thirteen days. They arrived late at night on
November 14th, having left London on the 1st, and were taken straight
to the Tolbooth.[15] A week after, orders came from London that Mr
Spence should be put to the torture, but for some reason or other he
was left alone till the April of the following year, being evidently in
irons all the time, his close connection with Argyle rendering his
imprisonment {202} extra rigorous.[16] He was taken out of irons on
the 25th of that month, but it was not till the 24th of July that he
was ordered to appear before the Council and required to take an oath
to answer all the questions put to him. He refused and protested, and
was tortured in the boot, but, spite of the awful agony, remained
"obstinate and disingenuous," whereupon the Privy Council "resolved to
use all methods necessary to bring the said Mr William Spence to a true
and ingenuous confession, and for expiscating the truth in so important
a matter, do recommend to General Dalziel forthwith to call for the
said Mr William Spence from the Magistrates of Edinburgh, and to cause
such of His Majesty's forces, officers, and soldiers, as shall be found
most trusty, to watch the said Mr William Spence by turns, and not to
suffer him to sleep by night or by day, and for that end to use all
effectual means for keeping him awake."[17] The "effectual means" were
"pricking,"[18] and the intention was to induce raving, so that in his
{203} delirium the brave prisoner might perhaps reveal his secrets.
The torture was continued for eight or nine nights, but Mr Spence did
not rave, and tired his tormentors out. It was next resolved to try
the "thumbkins" on him, and, indeed, Spence seems to have been one of
the first regular prisoners to suffer this new Muscovy torture,[19] for
the Act of Council authorising the use of "the new invention and engine
called the thumbkins" was passed only a fortnight before; but the
sanguine expectations of the Lords were not fulfilled in the present
case, for though he sank under the agonising torment, he would not
yield. Ten days later he was again threatened with the boot, and
having meanwhile understood from his friends that the Government
practically knew already all he could tell them, he promised to make a
free and ingenuous confession on certain conditions--namely, that no
new questions should be put to him, that he should not be obliged to be
a witness against any person, and that he himself should be pardoned.
Unfortunately, by a sheer accident in disclosing the meaning of some of
the ciphers used in Argyle's correspondence, he put the Council {204}
on the track of the cipher[20] which expressed the name of his
fellow-prisoner, the famous Carstares, who, however, does not in any
way blame Mr Spence for what happened. He was sent back to prison,
strict orders being given that he was not to be permitted to see
Carstares, and when the Council adjourned for the holidays on September
13th, he was removed to Dumbarton Castle, and granted liberty within
the walls. Whether he escaped, or was allowed to go out of the
country, we cannot tell, but it is clear at any rate that he rejoined
his old master in Holland, and the next we hear of him is that he was
one of those who accompanied Argyle when he made his disastrous descent
on Scotland in the spring of 1685. When the little fleet arrived off
Kirkwall Mr Spence must needs go ashore to visit his uncle who lived
there, along with one of the Earl's scouts. "Both," says Wodrow,[21]
"were discovered and catched by the old bishop there. The Earl was
peremptorily resolved to recover the two gentlemen, and ordered Sir
Patrick Hume with a party of Fusileers to attack the town"; but the
captains were obdurate {205} and nervous, and gave the Earl time only
to seize seven islanders and a vessel "lying ther with meall and
money," when the ships sailed away, leaving the unfortunate secretary
to his fate.[22] He was sent down to Edinburgh,[23] indicted for
treason, and remitted in due form to the Assizes, tried, and found
guilty, and we seem at last to be near his end when we read that the
Lords ordained Mr William Spence to be taken to the Cross of Edinburgh
on Wednesday next, July 22nd, and there to be hanged. Before that day
arrived, however, he got a reprieve, and on August 17th he was allowed
to remove to a chamber in Edinburgh because of sickness--quite
unaccountable leniency at a time when the authorities did not scruple
to hang dying men in their night-shirts. The Magistrates were made
responsible for his safe keeping, and he undertook to re-enter the
prison on the first of September. His reprieve was now continued till
{206} November 1st, and the last we hear of him was that in a letter
from the King, dated October 14th, orders were given that he was to be
kept a close prisoner. His master had been executed on June 30th, and
had testified before his death that Mr William Spence had been to him a
faithful friend and servant. It is impossible to say what became of
him between this time and the Revolution, and unless he succeeded in
escaping, it is highly probable that he remained in prison till the
general clearance made by the alarmed authorities on the eve of that
event. All we know for certain is that the General Assembly of 1690,
amongst other items of business, declared his deposition null and void,
and restored him to his old parish, the minister, Alexander Meldrum,
having been deposed shortly before for not reading the Proclamation of
the Estates, and not praying for their Majesties William and Mary. He
remained in it only a few months, and in the autumn of 1691 he was
translated to Fossoway, where he ended his days in peace in 1715,[24]
at the age of 80, a clear proof {207} that he was a man of iron
constitution as well as of iron will and iron convictions.
We have to go forward something like a hundred years before the parish
or its fair stream comes again into notice, though probably in the
interval occurred the summary act of justice commemorated by the
Glendevon "Gallows Knowe," on which some of the last Highland reivers
were hung, and also the tragic event at "Paton's Fauld," a spot a short
distance from the old drove road opposite the "Court Knowe," where two
local gipsy families effectively settled their quarrel by practically
annihilating each other.[25] It was in August, 1787, that Burns first
made acquaintance with the Devon, which he has celebrated in three of
his poems, though it is evident that both on his flying visit to
Harvieston and during the longer stay he made in October of the same
year he was more pleased with the human flowers that bloomed on its
banks than with the awesome grandeur of the Rumbling Brig, and that
Peggy Chalmers and Charlotte Hamilton were more intimately associated
with his fond memories of the Devon valley than Caudron Linn and the
Deil's Mill. Although the ladies at Harvieston were somewhat
disappointed[26] that the more prominent local glories did not inspire
the poet to an outburst, it is clear that the subtle softness of the
Devon scenery made a deep impression on Burns, if the more aggressive
beauty of its waterfalls and gorges left him cold. You feel this in
all he has written about it, and it is significant that in one of his
last songs, composed when he was down in body, mind, and estate, his
thoughts went back to the "crystal Devon, winding Devon," whose music
seems to have got into his verse, and to the happy days he had spent on
its "romantic banks" and amidst its "wild sequestered shades." It may
be noted here that the "Holy Fair" was continued in Glendevon long
after Burns' famous attack, and that down to 1835 the minister of the
parish received an annual grant of five, and sometimes ten shillings,
for grass destroyed at the Sacrament; while a handy parishioner also
drew five shillings per annum for putting up the Communion tent on the
glebe, and a little extra now and then for making a road to it.[27] It
is impossible to say if Burns when at Harvieston was ever actually in
Glendevon, but about thirty years later the home of the Taits, which
the poet found so pleasant, is brought into close connection with the
parish owing to an incident which had its own share in giving to the
Church of England one of its wisest, if not one of its greatest,
primates. It was in Glendevon House that young Archibald Campbell
Tait, according to his own statement, which was found in his desk after
his death, written on a sheet of foolscap, had an experience which he
never forgot. His words are--"I had ridden over with my brother
Crawfurd from Harvieston to Glendevon to visit old Miss Rutherford, and
stayed the night in her house. I distinctly remember in the middle of
the night awaking with a deep impression on my mind of the reality and
nearness of the world unseen, _such as through God's mercy has never
left me_."[28] And with this fragment of spiritual history our local
record comes to a close. If the parish of Glendevon, nestling, like
Burns' Peggy, "where braving angry winter's storm the lofty Ochils
rise," and its clear winding river, occupy but a lowly place in
Scottish story, they have something better even than archaeological
treasures and stirring memories--the abiding presence of that spirit of
beauty, which is above all change, and which ever haunts
"The green valleys
Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows."
[1] Much of the legendary history of the Devon is given in the
extraordinary poem "Glenochel," by Mr James Kennedy.
[2] See _Registrum Monasterii S. Marie De Cambuskenneth_, A.D.
1147-1535. Edinburgi: 1872; p. 122.
[3] _History of the Reformation_, Vol. I., p. 233.
[4] The parish was served by readers from 1568 to 1586, when the reader
Symon Pawtoun was presented to the living, and, curiously enough, his
successor, A. Marschell, after being minister for a year, was forced by
the Presbytery to accept the lower position.
[5] See _The Darker Superstitions of Scotland_. By John Graham
Dalyell. Glasgow: 1835; p. 579.
[6] Mr Wood Martin in his learned work, _Pagan Ireland_ (London: 1895);
describes similar usages still prevailing in Ireland.
[7] _Dalyell_, p. 671.
[8] _History of the Rebellions in Scotland_. By Robert Chambers. Vol.
II., p. 87.
[9] _Statistical Account of 1794_, p. 234.
[10] _Memoirs of the Marquis of Montrose_. By M. Napier. Vol. II., p.
537.
[11] He was schoolmaster at Abernethy, and subsequently married the
daughter of the parish minister. She died in 1708 at the age of 80.
[12] See _Register of the Diocesan Synod of Dunblane_. Edited by John
Wilson, D.D. Edinburgh: 1877; page 91.
Before the passing of the Act of 1810 for augmenting parochial stipends
in Scotland, the stipend was £21 17s 11d, the smallest in Scotland. 50
Geo. III., cap. 84.
[13] _Diocesan Register_, p. 251.
[14] _Diocesan Register_, p. 150.
[15] _Historical Selections_. _From the MSS. of Sir John Lauder of
Fountainhall_. Vol. I., p. 138.
[16] Wodrow's _History of The Sufferings of The Church of Scotland_.
II., p. 386.
[17] Wodrow II., p. 386.
[18] Graham Dunlop MSS., quoted in Story's _Carstares_, p. 80.
[19] See Fountainhall, p. 138.
[20] Story's _Carstares_, p. 82.
[21] History, II., p. 531.
[22] Fountainhall, p. 164.
[23] That his spirit was in no way cowed is obvious from the report of
what he said and did when he was brought before the Privy Council and
informed that "Argile was tane," and urged to tell everything. "He
laugh't at them, and with a very obstinate and unbelieving carriage
said--'If ye have the principall, what neids ye ask these questions at
me.'"--Fountainhall, p. 187.
[24] _Fasti Ecclesia Scoticanae_. By Hew Scott, D.D. Vol. II., pp.
766-768.
[25] The ecclesiastical quarrel which began in 1765 when Mr Patrick
Crichton was presented to the living, went on for several years, and
only ended when the presentee, seeing that a peaceable settlement was
impossible, retired.
[26] Chambers' _Life of Burns_, II., 144.
[27] Glendevon Session Records.
[28] _Life of Archibald Campbell Tait_. By R. T. Davidson, D.D., and
W. Bentham, D.D. 2 Vols. London: 1891.
BY THE WELL OF ST. FILLAN
By Rev. THOMAS ARMSTRONG, Dundurn
"Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung
On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring."
--_Lady of the Lake_.
Any one who has visited the scene hallowed in tradition as the sojourn
of St. Fillan, can understand how the genius of Scott should have
traced to Fillan's spring that draught of inspiration which conceived
such a splendid poem as the "Lady of the Lake"; for it is here that the
scenery of Upper Strathearn reaches its climax of beauty and grandeur.
Take St. Fillan's Hill as the point of vantage, and the view is most
entrancing. Looking towards Comrie and Crieff, we have at our feet the
richest and most beautifully wooded part of Strathearn--the valley
interspersed in the most picturesque fashion, with knolls richly clad
with larch, oak, or hazel; while here and there the gleam of the River
Earn betrays her course, where she has emerged from sombre wood, or
deep and rocky gorge. In spring-time the eye is delighted and
refreshed with the varieties of green--from the deep and sombre shade
of the Scotch pine and the almost yellow and brown of the young oak to
the exquisite freshness and tender beauty of the larch. In autumn it
is one blaze of colour. At our feet an avenue of beeches glowing red;
everywhere masses of oak of russet brown--the rich and varied tints of
the bracken contributing their share to the similitude of a glorious
sunset; and the whole picture is rendered complete to the eye by being
set in that massive rocky framework, known as the Aberuchill range,
whose stern and rugged sides add to the feeling of the picturesque and
beautiful the sense of the sublime.
Looking westward, we have within our immediate view a contrast in the
form of a fine piece of pastoral scenery--green fields with cattle or
sheep grazing, ploughed land and cornfield, farm-steading, and all that
suggests the peaceful but laborious life of the hardy sons of toil.
Almost at our feet, in striking solitude, we discern the chapel and
burying-ground of Dundurn. The peacefulness of the place, and the
solemn grandeur of the mountains which soar above, and seem as if
placed there to safeguard the seclusion, are all in harmony.
From the point of view already taken, that noble Ben, called Biron,
forces itself upon our admiration--a mountain with what we might call
character--not of any common order--not beaten into any shape by the
ruthless elements, but with many determined points, which have survived
the war with winds and frosts and rains--an old veteran, who, in spite
of the scars where the shadows rest, has a look of triumph about him,
especially when his peaks at evening catch the setting rays of the sun,
or peer through a surrounding mist.
Although we are not at any great altitude on the top of St. Fillan's
Hill, we are yet high enough to get a glimpse of that gem of Highland
lochs--Loch Earn, set literally at the feet of the hills, its waters
murmuring a never ceasing song, as if happy with their near presence,
having wooed and kissed their steep and rugged sides into silver
strands and gently curving bays from end to end; and, indeed, the very
woods, as if drawn by this music and this wooing, have come to the very
water's edge to bathe and to drink, and to watch their graceful forms
mirrored in the bosom of the loch.
I need no apology for thus dwelling upon the romantic scenery of the
place, for if, in these matter-of-fact times, the fame and reputed
virtue of the Well of St. Fillans have departed, and the days of
pilgrimage to its source are over, still the pure air, and perfect
peace, and wild and romantic surroundings remain, to minister their
undoubted healing powers to wearied minds and jaded bodies.
In writing about the Well of St. Fillans and other places of
antiquarian interest in this neighbourhood, it almost goes without
saying that much must be taken on trust. People are prone to believe
that the dirty pool of stagnant water which still remains in the driest
summer on the top of St. Fillan's Hill is the famous spring to which
pilgrims at one time resorted. Any one who examines it will not fail
to observe that it has all the appearance of an artificially built
well, and must have been kept in order and preservation for a purpose.
Tradition confirms the belief that this was at one time the well, but
not always. The Rev. Mr M'Diarmid, minister of the parish of Comrie
about the beginning of this century, gives us the following account of
it:--
"This spring, tradition reports, reared its head on the top of Dun
Fholain (Fillan's Hill) for a long time, doing much good, but in
disgust (probably at the Reformation) it removed suddenly to the foot
of a rock, a quarter of a mile to the southward, where it still
remains, humbled, but not forsaken. It is still visited by
valetudinary people, especially on the 1st of May and the 1st of
August. No fewer than seventy persons visited it in May and August,
1791. The invalids, whether men, women, or children, walk or are
carried round the well three times in a direction Deishal--that is from
east to west, according to the course of the sun. They also drink of
the water and bathe in it. These operations are accounted a certain
remedy for various diseases. They are particularly efficacious for
curing barrenness, on which account it is frequently visited by those
who are very desirous of offspring. All the invalids throw a white
stone on the Saint's cairn, and leave behind them as tokens of their
gratitude and confidence some rags of linen or woollen cloth. The rock
on the summit of the hill formed of itself a chair for the Saint, which
still remains. Those who complain of rheumatism in the back must
ascend the hill, sit in this chair, then lie down on their back, and be
pulled down by the legs to the bottom of the hill. This operation is
still performed, and reckoned very efficacious. At the foot of the
hill there is a basin made by the Saint on the top of a large stone,
which seldom wants water even in the greatest drought, and all who are
distressed with sore eyes must wash them three times with this water."
Of such holy wells, it may be interesting to learn that there were,
previous to the Reformation, a great number throughout Scotland.[1]
They were usually called after saints, because of the cells of saints
being fixed near a spring. Hence these wells are usually in the
vicinity of old ecclesiastical sites, and in many cases where the wells
alone remain, they mark the place of those sites.
At these wells all diseases were supposed to be within the reach of
cure. A student of the development theory might almost find traces of
the growth of the specialist in them, for some of them acquired a fame
for the cure of special diseases. The Well of St. Fillan, at
Strathfillan, _e.g._, was famous for the cure of insanity; the Well of
St. Fillan, about which I write, as has already been noticed, was much
resorted to for the cure of barrenness; and if we transfer the virtue
of the waters to the credit of the Saint under whose auspices a cure
was wrought, we might say of St. Servan that he was considered a great
oculist; of St. Anthony, that he was an eminent specialist in the
treatment of children's diseases; for to the Well of St. Servan the
blind were led, to the Well of St. Anthony, sickly and "backgane
bairns." In accounting for the popularity of these wells, the
philosopher will reflect that there is a kernel of truth in most
widespread error. The truth in the well is the truth that underlay the
hydropathic treatment involved, also the treatment of fresh air and
exercise, and the extra exertion, the stimulus of change, and the
excitement associated with such pilgrimages, not to speak of the power
of faith, based though it was on error. From this point of view we may
in some respects regard the modern hydropathic establishment as in the
line of development with the holy well of old.
It is a testimony to the universality and the popularity of the holy
wells in this country, and to the persistency of the superstition,
after it had been condemned by the Reformation, that a public statute
had to be enacted in 1579 prohibiting these pilgrimages, and that this
having been ignored or defied, they had again to be denounced in the
strongest terms in 1679. "It seems not to be enough," says this edict,
"that whole congregations were interdicted from the pulpit preceding
the wonted period of resort, or that individuals humbled on their knees
in public acknowledgment of their offence were rebuked or fined for
disobedience. Now it was declared for the purpose of restraining the
superstitious resort in pilgrimage to chappellis and wellis, which is
so frequent and common in this kingdom, to the great offence of God,
the scandall of the Kirk, and disgrace of His Majestie's government,
that commissioners diligently search in all such pairts and places
where this idolatrous superstition is used, and to take and apprehend
all such persons, of whatsoever rank and quality, whom they sall
deprehend going pilgrimage to chappellis or wellis, or whom they sall
know themselves to be guilty of that cryme, and to commit them to waird
until such measures should be adopted for their trial and punishment."
It is further of especial interest to note the local effort made to
suppress these pilgrimages. In the records of the Synod of Perth there
is a minute to the following effect:--
"It is found that there is frequent repairing on certain days
superstitiously to some wells within this province, as to one called
Dumlorn, in Comrie. In the meantime the Synod ordains and entreats all
the gentlemen of these bounds where these wells, or any other of that
kind are, that they would use all diligence against these abuses as
they may according to the Acts of Parliament made thereanent."
Those who have an antiquarian turn of mind will, on visiting the top of
Dundurn, where the original well is supposed to have been, find
themselves expatiating upon other features of interest surrounding
them. The hill itself, it will be remarked, is covered all round, with
the exception of the precipitous front facing the east, with piles of
loose water-worn stones. At first view they appear only an irregular
mass, and seem to be there only to make the ascent more slippery and
difficult. Mr Skene, in his _Celtic Scotland_; points out that here we
have the remains of an ancient fort. It is only recently, however,
that the subject has come in for thorough investigation by Dr.
Christison, one of the Rhind lecturers on Archaeology, who, by careful
measurements and by the extensive knowledge which he has brought to
bear on the subject, has quite established the fact. One sees that
from the east side of the hill the position is by nature impregnable
against attack; while on the south, west, and north sides, it is the
triumph of the antiquarian's research and skill to re-build for us in
imagination a series of fortified lines and enclosures, the original
sites of which time has not altogether obliterated. The fortress was
known in early days as Dundurn, and must have been a stronghold of
considerable importance.[2]
Looking down upon the plain below, the little chapel at our feet,
called the Chapel of St. Fillan, also takes us back to antiquity,
though to a less remote one than the fortifications. It takes us back
to pre-Reformation times. There is no record of the century to which
it belongs, and the only relic that has been preserved to us from the
pre-Reformation period is a holy water font. It stood in a niche in
the wall of the chapel. When, however, it was deemed advisable to
remove the tottering roof and to preserve what of the building would
make a picturesque ruin, the font was taken in charge by Colonel
Stewart of Ardvoirlich, and handed over by him to the Trustees of the
Dundurn Parish Church. Placed on a suitable stand, and with an
appropriate inscription, this font will represent an interesting link
between the past and the present.