_Go with one flight to Christ_; which, the reader will find, can only
be made out by Latinising his name into NICHOLAUS EDUARTUS. We learn
from Moyses’s _Memoirs_ that, in January 1591, this house was the
temporary residence of James VI. and his queen, then recently arrived
from Denmark; and that, on the 7th of February, the Earl of Huntly
passed hence, out of the immediate royal presence, when he went to
murder the Bonny Earl of Moray at Donibrissle; which caused a suspicion
that His Majesty was concerned in that horrid outburst of feudal
hate. Lockhart’s Court was latterly divided into several distinct
habitations, one of which, on the north side of the quadrangle, was
occupied by the family of Bruce of Kinnaird, the celebrated traveller.
In the part on the south side, occupied by the Carnwath family, there
was a mantelpiece in the drawing-room of magnificent workmanship, and
reaching to the ceiling. The whole mansion, even in its reduced state,
bore an appearance of security and strength which spoke of other times;
and there was, moreover, a profound dungeon underground, which was only
accessible by a secret trap-door, opening through the floor of a small
closet, the most remote of a suite of rooms extending along the south
and west sides of the court. Perhaps, at a time when to be rich was
neither so common nor so safe as now, Provost Edward might conceal his
hoards in this _massy more_.
Alexander Black of Balbirney, who was provost of Edinburgh from 1579 to
1583, had a house at the head of the wynd. King James lodged in this
house on the 18th of August 1584, and walked from it in state next day
to hold a parliament in the Tolbooth. Here also lodged the Chancellor
Thirlstain, in January 1591, while the king and queen were the guests
of Nicol Edward.[178] It must be understood that these visits of
royalty were less considered in the light of an honour than of a tax.
The king in those times went to live at the board of a wealthy subject
when his own table happened to be scantily furnished; which was too
often the case with poor King James.
On the east side of the wynd, nearly opposite to Lockhart’s Court, was
a good house,[179] which, early in the last century, was possessed
by James Erskine of Grange, best known by his judicial title of Lord
Grange, and the brother of John, Earl of Mar. This gentleman has
acquired an unhappy notoriety in consequence of his treatment of his
wife. He was externally a professor of ultra-evangelical views of
religion, and a patron of the clergy on that side, yet in his private
life is understood to have been far from exemplary. The story of Lady
Grange, as Mrs Erskine was called, had a character of romance about it
which has prevented it from being forgotten. It also reflects a curious
light upon the state of manners in Scotland in the early part of the
eighteenth century. The lady was a daughter of that Chiesly of Dalry
whom we have already seen led by an insane violence of temper to commit
one of the most atrocious of murders.