At the Bowhead there happened, in the year 1596, a combat between James
Johnston of Westerhall and a gentleman of the house of Somerville,
which is thus related in that curious book, the _Memorie of the
Somervilles_.
‘The other actione wherein Westerhall was concerned happened three
years thereftir in Edinburgh, and was only personal on the same
account, betwext Westerhall and Bread (Broad) Hugh Somervill of the
Writes. This gentleman had often formerly foughten with Westerhall upon
equal termes, and being now in Edinburgh about his privat affaires,
standing at the head of the West Bow, Westerhall by accident comeing up
the same, some officious and unhappy fellow says to Westerhall: “There
is Bread Hugh Somervill of the Writes.” Whereupon Westerhall, fancying
he stood there either to waitt him, or out of contempt, he immediately
marches up with his sword drawen, and with the opening of his mouth,
crying: “Turne, villane;” he cuttes Writes in the hint head a deep and
sore wound, the foullest stroak that ever Westerhall was knoune to
give, acknowledged soe, and much regrated eftirwards by himself. Writes
finding himself strucken and wounded, seeing Westerhall (who had not
offered to double his stroak), drawes, and within a short tyme puttes
Westerhall to the defensive part; for being the taller man, and one of
the strongest of his time, with the advantage of the hill, he presses
him sore. Westerhall reteires by little, traverseing the breadth of
the Bow, to gain the advantage of the ascent, to supply the defect of
nature, being of low stature, which Writes observeing, keepes closse to
him, and beares him in front, that he might not quyte what good-fortune
and nature had given him. Thus they continued neer a quarter of ane
hour, clearing the callsay,[27] so that in all the strait Bow there
was not one to be seen without their shop doores, neither durst any man
attempt to red them, every stroak of their swords threatening present
death both to themselves and others that should come neer them. Haveing
now come from the head of the Bow neer to the foot thereof, Westerhall
being in a pair of black buites, which for ordinary he wore closse
drawen up, was quyte tyred. Therefore he stepes back within a shop
doore, and stood upon his defence. The very last stroak that Writes
gave went neer to have brocken his broad sword in peaces, haveing
hitt the lintell of the door, the marke whereof remained there a long
tyme. Thereftir, the toune being by this tyme all in ane uproar, the
halbertiers comeing to seaze upon them, they wer separated and privatly
convoyed to ther chambers. Ther wounds but slight, except that which
Writes had upon his head proved very dangerous; for ther was many bones
taken out of it; however, at lenth, he was perfectly cured, and the
parties themselves, eftir Hugh Lord Somerville’s death, reconcealled,
and all injuries forgotten.’
In times of civil war, personal rencontres of this kind, and even
skirmishes between bands of armed men—usually called tulzies—were of
no unfrequent occurrence upon the streets of Edinburgh. They abounded
during the troublous time of the minority of James VI. On the 24th of
November 1567, the Laird of Airth and the Laird of Wemyss met upon
the High Street, and, together with their followers, fought a bloody
battle, ‘many,’ as Birrel the chronicler reports, ‘being hurte on both
sides by shote of pistoll.’ Three days afterwards there was a strict
proclamation, forbidding ‘the wearing of guns or pistolls, or aney
sick-like fyerwork ingyne, under ye paine of death, the king’s guards
and shouldours only excepted.’ This circumstance seems to be referred
to in _The Abbot_, where the Regent Murray, in allusion to Lord
Seyton’s rencontre with the Leslies, in which Roland Græme had borne
a distinguished part, says: ‘These broils and feuds would shame the
capital of the Great Turk, let alone that of a Christian and reformed
state. But if I live, this gear shall be amended; and men shall say,’
&c.
On the 30th of July 1588, according to the same authority, Sir William
Stewart was slain in Blackfriars Wynd by the Earl of Bothwell [the
fifth earl], who was the most famed disturber of the public peace in
those times. The quarrel had arisen on a former occasion, on account of
some despiteful language used by Sir William, when the fiery earl vowed
the destruction of his enemy in words too shocking to be repeated; ‘sua
therafter rancountering Sir William in ye Blackfriar Wynd by chance,
told him he vold now ...; and vith yat drew his sword; Sir William
standing to hes defence, and having hes back at ye vall, ye earle mad a
thrust at him vith his raper, and strake him in at the back and out at
the belley, and killed him.’
Ten years thereafter, one Robert Cathcart, who had been with the Earl
of Bothwell on this occasion, though it does not appear that he took an
active hand in the murder, was slain in revenge by William Stewart, son
of the deceased, while standing inoffensively at the head of Peebles
Wynd, near the Tron.
In June 1605, one William Thomson, a dagger-maker in the West Bow,
which was even then remarkable for iron-working handicraftsmen, was
slain by John Waterstone, a neighbour of his own, who was next day
beheaded on the Castle-hill for his crime.
In 1640, the Lawnmarket was the scene of a personal combat between
Major Somerville, commander of the forces then in the Castle, devoted
to the Covenanting interest (a relation of Braid Hugh in the preceding
extract), and one Captain Crawfuird, which is related in the following
picturesque and interesting manner by the same writer: ‘But it would
appear this gentleman conceived his affront being publict, noe
satisfactione acted in a private way could save his honour; therefore
to repair the same, he resolves to challange and fight Somervill upon
the High Street of Edenburgh, and at such a tyme when ther should be
most spectators. In order to this designe, he takes the occasione, as
this gentleman was betwext ten and eleven hours in the foirnoon hastily
comeing from the Castle (haveing been then sent for to the Committie of
Estates and General Leslie anent some important busines), to assault
him in this manner; Somervill being past the Weigh-house, Captaine
Crawfuird observeing him, presentlie steps into a high chope upon the
south side of the Landmercat, and there layes by his cloak, haveing a
long broad sword and a large Highland durke by his side; he comes up to
Somervill, and without farder ceremonie sayes: “If you be a pretty man,
draw your sword;” and with that word pulles out his oune sword with
the dagger. Somervill at first was somewhat stertled at the impudence
and boldnesse of the man that durst soe openly and avowedly assault
him, being in publict charge, and even then on his duty. But his honour
and present preservatione gave him noe tyme to consult the conveniency
or inconveniency he was now under, either as to his present charge or
disadvantage of weapons, haveing only a great kaine staff[28] in his
hand, which for ordinary he walked still with, and that same sword
which Generall Rivane had lately gifted him, being a half-rapper sword
backed, hinging in a shoulder-belt far back, as the fashion was then,
he was forced to guaird two or three strokes with his kaine before he
got out his sword, which being now drawne, he soon puts his adversary
to the defencive part, by bearing up soe close to him, and putting home
his thrusts, that the captaine, for all his courage and advantage of
weapons, was forced to give back, having now much adoe to parie the
redoubled thrusts that Somervill let in at him, being now agoeing.
‘The combat (for soe in effect it was, albeit accidental) begane about
the midle of the Landmercat. Somervill drives doune the captaine, still
fighting, neer to the goldsmiths’ chops, where, fearing to be nailled
to the boords (these chops being then all of timber), he resolved by
ane notable blow to revenge all his former affronts; makeing thairfor a
fent, as if he had designed at Somervill’s right side, haveing parried
his thrust with his dagger, he suddenly turnes his hand, and by a
back-blow with his broadsword he thought to have hamshekelled[29] him
in one, if not both of his legges, which Somervill only prevented by
nimbly leaping backward at the tyme, interposeing the great kaine that
was in his left hand, which was quyte cut through with the violence of
the blow. And now Providence soe ordered it, that the captaine missing
his mark, overstrake himself soe far, that in tyme he could not recover
his sword to a fit posture of defence, untill Somervill, haveing beaten
up the dagger that was in the captaine’s left hand with the remaineing
part of his oune stick, he instantly closes with him, and with the
pummil of his sword he instantly strikes him doune to the ground, where
at first, because of his baseness, he was mynded to have nailled him
to the ground, but that his heart relented, haveing him in his mercy.
And att that same instant ther happened several of his oune soulders
to come in, who wer soe incensed, that they wer ready to have cut the
poor captaine all in pieces, if he had not rescued him out of theire
hands, and saw him safely convoyed to prisone, where he was layd in
the irones, and continued in prisone in a most miserable and wretched
condition somewhat more than a year.’[30]