From these descriptions we attain a tolerably distinct idea of the site
of the house of the bishops of Dunkeld in Edinburgh, including, of
course, one who is endeared to us from a peculiar cause—Gavin Douglas,
who succeeded to the see in 1516. This house must have stood nearly
opposite to the bottom of Niddry Street, but somewhat to the eastward.
It would have gardens behind, extending up to the line of the present
Infirmary Street.
We thus not only have the pleasure of ascertaining the Edinburgh
whereabouts of one of our most distinguished national poets, but we can
now read, with a somewhat clearer intelligence, a remarkable chapter in
the national history.
It was in April 1520 that the Hamiltons (the party of the Earl of
Arran), with Bethune, Archbishop of Glasgow, called an assembly of
the nobility in Edinburgh, in order to secure the government for the
earl. The rival magnate, the Earl of Angus, soon saw danger to himself
in the great crowds of the Hamilton party which flocked into town.
Indeed warlike courses seem to have been determined on by that side.
Angus sent his uncle, the Bishop of Dunkeld, to caution them against
any violence, and to offer that he should submit to the laws if any
offence were laid to his charge. The reverend prelate, proceeding to
the place of assembly, which was in the archbishop’s house, at the
foot of Blackfriars Wynd, found the Hamilton party obstinate. Thinking
an archbishop could not or ought not to allow strife to take place if
he could help it, he appealed to Bethune, who, however, had actually
prepared for battle by putting on armour under his rochet. ‘Upon my
conscience, my lord,’ said Bethune, ‘I know nothing of the matter,’
at the same time striking his hand upon his breast, which caused the
armour to return a rattling sound. Douglas’s remark was simply, ‘Your
conscience clatters;’ a happy pun for the occasion, clatter being
a Scotch word signifying to tell tales. Gavin then returned to his
lodging, and told his nephew that he must do his best to defend himself
with arms. ‘For me,’ he said, ‘I will go to my chamber and pray for
you.’ With our new light as to the locality of the Bishop of Dunkeld’s
lodging, we now know that Angus and his uncle held their consultations
on this occasion within fifty yards of the house in which the Hamiltons
were assembled. The houses, in fact, nearly faced each other in the
same narrow street.
Angus now put himself at the head of his followers, who, though not
numerous, stood in a compact body in the High Street. They were,
moreover, the favourites of the Edinburgh citizens, who handed spears
from their windows to such as were not armed with that useful weapon.
Presently the Hamiltons came thronging up from the Cowgate, through
narrow lanes, and entering the High Street in separate streams, armed
with swords only, were at a great disadvantage. In a short time the
Douglases had cleared the streets of them, killing many, and obliging
Arran himself and his son to make their escape through the North Loch,
mounted on a coal-horse. Archbishop Bethune, with others, took refuge
in the Blackfriars’ Monastery, where he was seized behind the altar
and in danger of his life, when Gavin Douglas, learning his perilous
situation, flew to save him, and with difficulty succeeded in his
object. Here, too, local knowledge is important. The Blackfriars’
Monastery stood where the High School latterly was, a spot not more
than a hundred yards from the houses of both Bethune and Gavin Douglas.
It would not necessarily require more than five minutes to apprise
Douglas of Bethune’s situation, and bring him to the rescue.
The popular name given to this street battle is
characteristic—_Cleanse-the-Causeway_.