1630.Jan.
Jan. 15.
There is no room to doubt that the king, so far as he took any part in the prosecution of the northern papists, only had in view ‘the comfort of his weel-affected subjects,’ and was willing to make the papists suffer no more than was fairly necessary to maintain the reputation of his ecclesiastical policy. He must have strongly sympathised with the Catholic nobles, all of whom were his personal friends, and supporters of his government; nor could he have heard of even the sufferings of the middle-class gentry without some compunctious visitings. We find him in January 1630 venturing on a measure of lenient tendency. The Lord Gordon, eldest son of the Marquis of Huntly, had been, through the influence of the late king, brought up with Protestant leanings. To him King Charles thought of granting a commission for the execution of the laws against the excommunicated papists, no doubt calculating that he would use a humane discretion in the business. The Privy Council accordingly gave him such a commission, to last for four months, and to include the power of appropriating the rebels’ rents to his own use. We learn from Sir Robert Gordon, that Lord Gordon was unwilling to accept this commission, lest he should offend his father and prejudice his position as commander of the King of France’s Scots Guard. But he got over his scruples, and, as Sir Robert tells, performed his duty with a degree of ‘dexterity and moderation’ that gained him the approbation of all parties.
While Lord Gordon proceeded northward with this large commission, his father remained in restraint in Edinburgh, still under obligation to exhibit the rebels on his own property, if Lord Gordon should fail to do so; and his daughters rested therealso, under ‘sequestration,’ that the ministers of the true gospel might have access to them and induce them to attend church.
Lord Gordon had scarcely been a fortnight in enjoyment of his commission, when he found occasion to petition the Privy Council regarding the escheats of the rebels. If they gave these men a third of their rents as a means of supporting them abroad, it would be a deduction so far from the remuneration held out to him. Was this just? They appear to have been sensible of the force of this appeal, for they immediately decreed that no such deduction should be made. Whether Lord Gordon actually meant to appropriate these rents wholly to himself, does not appear.
On the 1st of June, Lord Gordon came before the Council to report progress, and it appeared that he had really used some diligence. Mr Robert Bisset; Gordon of Tilliesoul; John Gordon at the Mill of Rathven; Gordon of Drumquhaill; Alaster Gordon, in Badenoch; Hugh Hill; John Spence and his spouse; John Gordon, in Troups-mill, and his spouse; and Alexander Gordon, had all ‘given obedience and reconciled themselves to the kirk;’ that is, had put a constraint upon their professions of belief, and conformed to what in their hearts they detested. Others as yet stood out in their ‘obstinate disobedience to the church’—namely, Robert Bisset’s spouse; Gordon of Cairnbarrow; Gordon of Letterfour; the goodwife of Cornmellat; Malcolm Laing; Adam Strachan; Angus M‘Ewen; Gordon of Corrichie; Forbes of Blackton and his spouse; Robert Innes’s spouse; Con, at Knockmill; Leslie, in Convach; the spouse of Thomas Menzies of Balgownie; and Alexander Irving, his wife, and brother. Gordon of Craig and his eldest son offered caution to retire from the country. Margaret Gordon was confined in Banff, and Menzies of Balgownie was in exile.
1630.
Of nearly every one of the obdurate we have some account of what they afterwards did or suffered. Most of them appeared (July 20), and came under obligation either to conform before a certain day or straightway to leave the country. About the same time, Sir John Ogilvy of Craig, who had long been warded in Edinburgh Castle for his religion, and also Dr William Leslie, came under similar engagements. One of those who seemed least likely to succumb was John Gordon of Bountie. Living close to the gate of Viscount Melgum, the brother of Lord Gordon, he had been bold enough to allow a priest, Mr Robert Mortimer by name, to perform a mass before a large company in his house; and when two of the presbytery came to Lord Melgum’s house to remonstrate,and John was called in to speak for himself, he broke forth in outrageous reviling speeches, saying he would leave the country, but before he went he would take the lives of these two ministers. But even this hot-headed gentleman was brought low. He was induced to make a humble supplication to the Bishop of Aberdeen for reconciliation with the church; and on an ample declaration of his repentance, he was absolved from excommunication. It is lamentable to think, of such a zealot being obliged, for the saving of his property and place in the country, to swear on his ‘great oath’ eternal allegiance to the Protestant Church, and, with a heart full of suppressed rage and indignation, sit down and eat and drink unworthily of the feast which symbolises the union of the heart to the religion of peace and love.
On the 27th of July, the Council received a petition from John Gordon of Craig, which, on account of its simple and touching expression, may be given entire.23It ‘humbly sheweth that, for religion, order hath been given for banishing the petitioner’s son, his wife and children, and confining himself—in respect of his great age—in a town within Scotland [Cupar], which order they have all humbly obeyed, his son, wife, and poor children having forthwith abandoned the kingdom. A two part of the poor estate which he hath being allotted for his son and his family, and a third part for himself, he now findeth that by such a mean proportion he cannot be able to live, being both aged and sickly. His humble suit is, that he may have leave to depart the kingdom to live with his son, because by their estate undivided, they may all be more able to subsist than otherwise.’ It will probably surprise the reader, even after the preceding recital, to learn that the Council found the desire of the supplication ‘unreasonable,’ and ‘forder declare that the said John Gordon of Craig sall have no modification nor allowance of ane third part of his estate and living, except he remain within the kingdom and keep the bounds of his confinement.’
1630.
On the 7th of February 1630, it was found that, owing to Cupar being situated on a thoroughfare, old Craig was visited by a considerable number of persons ‘suspect in religion, with whom he has not only secret conference, but there is pregnant presumption that other practices are enterteined amang them in hurt and prejudice to the true religion.’ This being in contravention of the agreement made with Craig, that he should have conference only with the ministry and not with papists, he was ordered to beremoved to the out-of-the-way burgh of Crail, and to be confined there and within a mile thereof.
After the popish gentlemen had been thus dealt with, there remained a considerable number of ladies who as yet had not been much troubled. But these gentlewomen were not to escape. On the 23d of December 1630, the Privy Council adverted to ‘Madelen Wood, spouse to —— Leslie of Kincraigie; Jonet Wood, spouse to John Gordon of Bountie; Marjory Malcolm, spouse to Matthew Alexander, in Turriff; Barbara Garden, spouse to ——]; —— Gordon, spouse to Mr Robert Bisset of Lessendrum; Isobel Strachan, spouse to John Spence, in Brunstain; and —— ——, spouse to John Gordon at the Mill of Rathven, who are not only professed and avowed papists, and excommunicat by orders of the kirk for that cause, but with that they are denounced his majesty’s rebels and contemptuously lies at the horn unrelaxt.’ It was further alleged of these ladies, that they ‘are common resetters, hoorders, and enterteiners of Jesuits, and mess priests, and trafficking papists—hears mess of them, and otherwise lives aftir ane most scandalous and offensive manner.’ An order was issued that these women should appear personally with their husbands, ‘that order may be tane with them.’
As a specimen of the dealing of the authorities with the gentler and weaker sex:—On the 9th of September 1630, the Lords of Council received a petition from Elizabeth Garioch, setting forth her case as a sufferer for her ‘averseness and non-conformity to the religion presently professed.’ She was an old decrepit woman, past threescore and ten years, bedrid for the present, and not likely long to live. She had lain for months in the Tolbooth of Aberdeen, with ‘no earthly means to entertein herself but ane croft of sax bolls sawing, and neither husband nor child to attend to the winning and in-gathering thereof.’ The misery of her circumstances made her restraint, she said, the more grievous. Therefore she craved release from prison, professing, ‘for the eschewing of scandal, which her remaining in the country may breed or occasion,’ her willingness to give security that she should remove herself forth of the kingdom. The Lords mercifully remitted to the Bishop of Aberdeen to see to Elizabeth Garioch being liberated on her giving caution to the extent of a thousand merks for her self-banishment.
1630.
In November 1630, a curious circumstance is noted regarding the Dr William Leslie above named. Licence was granted to him by the Privy Council to return temporarily to medicate tothe Marquis of Huntly, he being the person ‘whose judgment in matters of that kind the said marquis does only trust,’ it being provided ‘that the said Dr William shall behave himself modestly, without giving offence and scandal in matters concerning the religion.’—P. C. R.
It is remarkable that, while the histories of our country and its national church are careful to note every particular of the conflict between presbytery and episcopacy at this period, there is nowhere the slightest allusion to these sufferings of the remnant of Romanists, towards which Presbyterians and Episcopalians alike contributed. It is to be feared that the actual severities which were dealt upon the party were not the worst evils in the case. In the external conformity which was forced upon many—so many that only sixty avowed papists were thought to be left in Scotland—we cannot doubt that there was involved a hypocrisy which would be bitterly felt—always the more bitterly where there was an upright and honourable spirit—and which would in the long-run have the most demoralising effects.
1630.
A full history of the proceedings of the Romish priests in Scotland, during the reigns of James VI. and Charles I., would shew examples of heroic courage, self-devotion, and religious enthusiasm, equalling any that can be adduced from the reformed denominations. ‘Capuchin Leslie, called the Archangel,’ appears, from his biography,24to have been a man of singular gifts and earnestness. The eldest son of the Laird of Monymusk, in Aberdeenshire, he had been brought up at Paris, and there converted to Romanism in his youth. Before attaining majority, he had gone to those heights in devotion and asceticism which produce hallucinative voices and lights. Making his way through unnumbered dangers to his native castle, he there set himself to the work of preaching. He collected the people in the woods, or beset them as they were leaving the parish church; addressed them in a style of burning eloquence, with threats of the fate reserved for heretics; and is said to have brought thousands into his views in a few weeks. His admiring biographer tells how he confounded the minister of Monymusk by asking him to exhibit any reference to the church of Geneva in the Bible, shewing him at the same time the Scriptural foundation of thetruechurch,by pointing out Paul’s Epistle to the Romans! His mother and other relatives were brought over to the ancient faith. For two years he exposed his life in this manner, but was at length obliged to leave the district by one of these threatening edicts. Meanwhile, his family, being discovered to be Catholics, had their property confiscated, and his mother was obliged to retire to a hovel, where she endeavoured to support herself by spinning. It is related that Father Archangel, being resolved at all hazards to visit her, dressed himself like a gardener, and cried herbs through the village till he discovered his mother. After a hurried interview, he was obliged to leave her once more, and depart from the kingdom. He nevertheless returned and recommenced his labours; and this extraordinary man ultimately sunk at an early age, under a fever caught while making a skulking journey across the Border.
Apr. 21.
John Hart, printer in Edinburgh, being about to bring out an edition of the Bible, the Town Council gave him formal permission to take a new apprentice ‘for the advancement of the said wark,’ ‘notwithstanding the time of three years be not past, since he replaced an apprentice last;’ ‘providing always it sall not be lawful to him to tak and have ane other prentice before the expiring of six years.’—Ed. Coun. Reg.
As restrictions on the taking of apprentices still exist in various trades, we must not be too ready to smile at this as a peculiar trait of the barbarous political economy of a past age.
May 29.
On the birth of the prince, afterwards Charles II., which took place between eleven and twelve this forenoon, the Lyon King at Arms was despatched by the king from London, to carry the news to Scotland. The Lyon arrived in Edinburgh on the third day thereafter, June 1st, when immediately cannon were shot, bells rung, and a table spread in the High Street, between the Cross and the Tron, for two hundred persons, including the nobility, Privy Council, and judges, the company being waited on by the heralds and trumpeters in their official dress.—Bal.
‘In this May were five Saturdays, five Mondays, twa changes of the moon, twa eclipses of the sun, ane other of the moon, all in our horizon.’—Chron. Perth.
June 20.
1630.
Writers of the religious history of Scotland during the seventeenth century, pause upon a remarkable administration of the communion which took place at this date in the Kirkof Shotts. The great attraction on the occasion was a young clergyman, afterwards famous, named John Livingstone. In consequence of the impression now made, a great portion of the assembled multitude remained at the place over the night; so it was necessary for the favourite preacher to hold forth next day. He did so with such power, and such a ‘down-pouring of the spirit,’ that the congregation was thrown into ‘unusual motion,’ and five hundred traced their conversion to that sermon alone. Amongst the hearers were three young men of Glasgow, who, journeying to Edinburgh on a pleasure-excursion, chanced to stop at the village for breakfast and the refreshment of their horses. So affected were they, that they entered into no amusements in Edinburgh, but speedily returned home, and were ever after noted as serious Christians. This is understood to have been the first instance of what has since been a common custom; that is, to have services on the Monday following the communion.—Gillies.
In this year and for some time afterwards, the parish of Stewarton, in Ayrshire, was the scene of ‘a very solemn and extraordinary out-letting of the spirit,’ few Sundays passing ‘without some one being converted, or some convincing proofs of the power of God accompanying his word.’... ‘Yea, many were so choked and taken by the heart, that, through terror, ... they have been made to fall over, and thus carried out of the church, who after proved most solid and lively Christians.’ The fervour spread from house to house along both sides of Stewarton Water. The profane called it the Stewarton Sickness.
1630.
‘The poor people, purely from conscience, were seized with such an apprehension of God’s wrath, and fear of eternal damnation because of their sins, that rest they could have none. This they were able to demonstrate to be no melancholy fancy, but a rational apprehension of their real danger, being at that time both ignorant, profane, and absolutely strangers to Jesus Christ, by [beside or apart from] whom they could have neither hope of mercy nor title to salvation; and this was beyond the reply of any divine. When by godly ministers ... they were directed to the performance of those duties which accomplish conversion from Satan to Christ, their peace became as strong as their terror had been troublesome....’25‘The Countess of Eglintoun did much countenance them, and persuaded her noble lord to spare his hunting and hawking some days to confer withsome of them whom she had sent for to that effect. Her lord, after conference with them, protested that he never spoke with the like of them, and wondered at the wisdom they manifested in their speech.’26
The Stewarton Sickness took its first rise in the ministrations of Mr David Dickson, minister of Irvine, afterwards a conspicuous figure in the time of the National Covenant. He was accustomed each Monday, being the market-day of the burgh, to give a sermon for the benefit of those who came there with their commodities for sale; and thus it was that the Stewarton people had opportunities of kindling under his eloquence. ‘At Irvine, Mr Dickson’s ministry was singularly countenanced of God. Multitudes were convinced and converted; and few that lived in his day were more honoured to be instruments of conversion than he. People under exercise and soul-concern came from every place about Irvine and attended upon his sermons, and the most eminent and serious Christians from all corners of the church came and joined him at his communions, which were indeed times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.’27‘Yea, not a few came from distant places and settled at Irvine, that they might be under the drop of his ministry. Yet he himself observed that the vintage of Irvine was not equal to the gleanings of Ayr in Mr Welch’s time.’28
‘John Lockhart tells me (1727) that he was in company with an old Christian who was a young man in the time of the famous Stewarton Sickness.... In a great many, it came to a kindly conversion ... but in severals it came to nothing, and in a little time wore off, and the persons became just what they were formerly.’—Wodrow.29
July.
1630.
At this time there lived near the town of Dunse a poor woman generally believed to be possessed by an evil spirit. The Earl (afterwards Duke) of Lauderdale, when a prisoner in Windsor Castle in 1659, sent an account of her to Mr Richard Baxter, who has published it in hisCertainty of the World of Spirits. The earl, then a boy at school, used to hear conversations about the possessed woman between his father and the minister of Dunse, who was fully convinced of the fact of the possession. This clergyman and some other clergymen proposed to the PrivyCouncil a fast for her benefit; but it was not allowed by the bishops. ‘I will not,’ says the earl, ‘trouble you with many circumstances; one only I shall tell you, which I think will evince a real possession. The report being spread in the country, a knight of the name of Forbes, who lived in the north of Scotland, being come to Edinburgh, meeting there with a minister of the north, and both of them desirous to see the woman, the northern minister invited the knight to my father’s house (which was within ten or twelve miles of the woman), whither they came, and next morning went to see the woman. They found her a poor ignorant creature, and seeing nothing extraordinary, the minister says in Latin to the knight: “Nondum audivimus spiritum loquentem.” Presently a voice comes out of the woman’s mouth: “Audis loquentem, audis loquentem.” This put the minister into some amazement (which I think made him not mind his own Latin); he took off his hat, and said: “Misereatur Deus peccatoris!” The voice presently out of the woman’s mouth said: “Dic peccatricis, dic peccatricis;” whereupon both of them came out of the house fully satisfied, took horse immediately, and returned to my father’s house at Thirlstane Castle, in Lauderdale, where they related this passage. This I do exactly remember. Many more particulars might be got in that part of the country; but this Latin criticism, in a most illiterate ignorant woman, where there was no pretence to dispossessing, is enough, I think.’
It may be remarked that the speaking of various languages which they had never learned, was one of the marks required by the canons of the Romish Church to distinguish those under real possession. The Dunse demoniac was remarkably superior in this respect to her contemporaries, the nuns of Loudun, who, in their demonstrations of possession in the celebrated case of Urban Grandier, spoke very bad Latin, not to mention their utter inability to converse in Greek or Hebrew, and yet were held by the authorities as genuine vessels of diabolic influence.
The fact of there being a reputedly possessed woman in Dunse at this time, as the Earl of Lauderdale has stated, is verified by the Privy Council Record, which contains, under date July 13, 1630, an order for bringing before them Margaret Lumsden, ‘the possessed woman in Dunse,’ together with her brother and father-in-law, that order might be taken concerning them, ‘as the importance and nature of such a great cause requires.’
Sep. 23.
1630.
Susanna Chancellor, daughter of the Laird of Shieldhill, wasaccused before the presbytery of Lanark of consulting with charmers, and ‘burying a child’s clothes betwixt [three] lairds’ lands, for health.’ By penitently presenting herself on her knees before the reverend brethren, she was saved from the due punishment.—R. P. L.
Oct.
At no great distance from the Castle of Strathbogie—the modern Huntly—where the great marquis held state, dwelt two gentlemen of figure, Gordon of Rothiemay and Crichton of Frendraught. In consequence of a dispute about the salmon-fishings in the Doveran, these two gentlemen fell into litigation and bad blood; and at length, from finding Rothiemay obdurate, Frendraught had to get assistance from his neighbours to execute the laws upon his antagonist. On New-year’s Day 1630, a bloody encounter took place between them, and Rothiemay was so severely wounded as to die three days after.
1630.
Frendraught could plead that he had been only carrying out the behests of the law against one who set legal rights and decrees at defiance. But the Marquis of Huntly and other Gordons felt that it was a hard thing for Rothiemay to lose his life on such an account, and Frendraught accordingly fell under their displeasure. The young Laird of Rothiemay, calling in the assistance of the outlaw James Grant, laid waste the lands of Frendraught, who was driven in succession to the Earl of Moray, the king, and the Privy Council for the protection of the laws. It was found necessary by the Council to send a commission to allay the heats which this affair had called forth. When Sir Robert Gordon and other commissioners arrived on the ground in May, they found James Grant and two hundred Highlanders assembled at Rothiemay, ready to lay waste Frendraught’s estate with fire and sword; and it was with no small difficulty that they were stayed. Sir Robert, as a connection of both Frendraught and the Gordon family, was well qualified to bring about a reconciliation, and this he effected with the assistance of the Marquis of Huntly. It was arranged that Frendraught should purchase the forgiveness of the Rothiemay family by paying a sum of money. ‘And so, all parties having shaken hands in the orchard of Strathbogie, they were heartily reconciled,’ says Sir Robert in his gossiping history. One cannot but see in this mode of stilling quarrels an encouragement to new ones. Frendraught, having acted all along under law, ought to have been protected by the law, instead of thus having to pay afine of fifty thousand merks30to buy off the vengeance of a family by whom the law was disregarded and broken. But in those days the law could only be executed by favour of the leading men of the country. These leading men had their passions and their partialities. Sir Robert Gordon probably purchased Frendraught’s safety on the best terms which, in the circumstances, could be obtained.
Bog an Gicht Castle.
Bog an Gicht Castle.
1630.
These circumstances form merely the introduction to a long series of disastrous mischances which befell the Laird of Frendraught, and which have made his name memorable in Scottish tradition. In the course of autumn, a gentleman named John Meldrum, who had assisted him in the fray with Rothiemay, quarrelled with him for not being satisfactorily rewarded for his help on that occasion. To make matters right, this gentleman came and took two horses from Frendraught’s lands! Frendraught,hearing that the culprit was harboured by a brother-in-law, Leslie of Pitcaple, came thither to seek back his property; but the encounter only led to one of his friends wounding a son of Pitcaple with a pistol-shot. Here was a new trouble for the unfortunate Frendraught. In great concern for what had taken place, he rode to the Marquis of Huntly at the Bog—the modern Gordon Castle—to beseech his intercession for the stanching of the quarrel. At the same time comes Pitcaple, full of designs of vengeance against Frendraught. The marquis was obliged to detain the latter as his guest, to save him from Pitcaple, who went away in great wrath.
Next day, when Frendraught proposed to go home, the marquis caused his son, Viscount Melgum, to accompany him with some other friends, in order to protect him from any attack which Pitcaple might make upon him by the way. It chanced that the Laird of Rothiemay, so lately reconciled to Frendraught, was present on this occasion; he generously offered to be one of the escort. So Frendraught set out with his gallant company, and reached home in safety.
It was only in conformity with the customs of the age that the laird and his lady should invite Lord Melgum, Rothiemay, and the rest of the party to remain for the night. They did so. The gentlemen consented; and after a merry supper, were conducted to bedrooms in the tall narrow old tower, which, with a modern addition, formed the Castle of Frendraught. In the first floor, over a vault, through which there was a round hole, lay Melgum and two servants; in the second was Rothiemay, also with some servants; in the third, two gentlemen named Chalmers and Rollock, and some more servants, were accommodated.
Oct. 8.
1630.
About midnight, the tower took fire in a sudden manner, ‘yea, in ane clap,’ says Spalding, and involved the whole of the inmates in destruction, except Chalmers, Rollock, and a servant who slept beside Lord Melgum. Swift as the fire was, three persons escaped, and Lord Melgum might have also saved himself, if he had not, under a friendly impulse, run up stairs to rouse Rothiemay. While he was engaged in this act, ‘the timber passage and lofting of the chamber takes fire, so that none of them could win down stairs again.’ So they turned to a window looking towards the court-yard, where they were heard repeatedly calling: ‘Help, help, for God’s cause!’ The windows being stanchioned, and the access by the stair cut off by the flames, it was impossible to render any assistance, and accordingly the six persons enclosed in the burning tower were all piteously burnt to death. Melgum was but twenty-fouryears of age, and left a widow and child; Rothiemay was unmarried. It is stated by Lady Melgum’s chaplain, that in that last moment of extremity, Lord Melgum induced Rothiemay to make open profession of the Catholic faith; and so, ‘they two being at a window, and whilst their legs were burning, did sing togetherTe Deum; which ended, they did tell at the window that their legs were consumed, recommending their souls to God, and the nobleman his wife and child, first to God, and then to the king.’31A popular ballad of the day speaks of their being called on to leap from the window:
‘How can I leap, how can I win,How can I leap to thee?My head’s fast in the wire-window,My feet burning from me.’He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,And thrown them o’er the wall;Saying: ‘Give them to my lady fair,Where she sits in the hall.’
‘How can I leap, how can I win,How can I leap to thee?My head’s fast in the wire-window,My feet burning from me.’He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,And thrown them o’er the wall;Saying: ‘Give them to my lady fair,Where she sits in the hall.’
‘How can I leap, how can I win,How can I leap to thee?My head’s fast in the wire-window,My feet burning from me.’
‘How can I leap, how can I win,
How can I leap to thee?
My head’s fast in the wire-window,
My feet burning from me.’
He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,And thrown them o’er the wall;Saying: ‘Give them to my lady fair,Where she sits in the hall.’
He’s ta’en the rings from aff his hands,
And thrown them o’er the wall;
Saying: ‘Give them to my lady fair,
Where she sits in the hall.’
1630.
This dismal event created a universal feeling of horror, and plunged the friends of the deceased into the greatest grief. The Laird and Lady of Frendraught were, to all appearance, deeply concerned for what had taken place. On the morning after the fire, the lady, ‘busked in a white plaid, and riding on a small nag, having a boy leading her horse, without any more in her company, in this pitiful manner she came weeping and mourning to the Bog, desiring entry to speak with my lord; but this was refused; so she returned back to her own house, the same gate she came, comfortless.’—Spalding.Her repulse was the more remarkable, as Lady Frendraught was a cousin of the marquis, and brought into bonds of sympathy with him and his family by being a Catholic. A fixed suspicion that she and her husband were the authors of the fire, had taken possession of the Huntly and Rothiemay families, as well as of the populace generally, though not the slightest evidence of guilt has ever been brought against them, and their loss of valuable papers, and of gold and silver articles, to the value, it was alleged, of a hundred thousand marks, rendered any concern of theirs in the fire-raising the very reverse of probable. The laird himself acted in the manner of an innocent man anxious to clear himself of suspicion. He came immediatelyto the Chancellor Lord Dupplin at Perth, desiring his protection, and offering to submit to trial. The Privy Council do not seem ever to have felt that there were any grounds for charging him with the guilt popularly imputed to him.
More particular suspicions fell upon John Meldrum of Redhill, thequondamadherent of Frendraught, but who had latterly fallen into such bad terms with him; likewise upon John Tosh, the master-household of Frendraught. These persons were accordingly apprehended, brought to Edinburgh, and examined. A servant-girl called Wood was also seized and subjected to torture, with a view to extracting her knowledge of the circumstances; but this only produced prevarications, making her evidence of no avail,32and for which she was scourged and banished the kingdom.
In March 1631, the Marquis of Huntly, having resolved ‘not to revenge himself by way of deed,’ as his panegyrist Spalding does not fail to tell us—as if it were a great merit—proceeded to Edinburgh in order to lay his wrongs before the Privy Council. Four commissioners appointed by this body soon after proceeded to Frendraught, which they examined with great care, in company with several noblemen and gentlemen of the district. They found evidence that the fire had originated in the ground-vault of the tower, where there were marks of it in three several places, one of these being directly under the round hole in the roof which communicated with Melgum’s apartment above. They could not determine whether it was accidental; but they felt assured that ‘no hand without could have raised the fire without aid from within.’33
1630.
While these matters were pending, there occurred an incident in itself of little importance, but which marks the spirit of the time. The young Earl of Sutherland, brother to Lady Frendraught, and whose late father was cousin-german to Huntly, in the course of a journey to Edinburgh, resolved to spend a night with the marquis, and for that purpose sent forward his message from Elgin. When he arrived in the evening at Bog of Gight, the marquis gave him a cold reception, and told him that he must either break with his brother-in-law Frendraught, or with himself, as he could no longer be the friend of both. The earl answeredthat he would prefer the marquis to Frendraught, but that he could not with honour throw off his sister’s husband as long as he waslaw-free. Huntly immediately answered: ‘Then God be with you, my lord,’ and turned away. The Earl of Sutherland lodged that night at a neighbouring hostelry, and in the morning pursued his way south. The singularity of such an event, in an age when it was disrespectful to pass a friend’s door without partaking of his hospitality, gives it great significance.
John Tosh, after submitting to examinations by torture, and denying all guilt, was charged (August 3, 1632) with the offence of setting fire to the tower from within; but the charge was never brought before an assize, the assessors finding that an insuperable bar lay in his having passed through the ordeal of torture without confession. There were some suspicious circumstances against him, chiefly of the nature of inconsistencies in his own declarations; but it was certainly possible to account for these upon a different theory from that of his being guilty.
John Meldrum was tried a twelvemonth later, and as it clearly appeared that he had uttered deadly threatenings against Frendraught’s life, even specifying burning as the means, he was found guilty, and executed. The theory of his guilt seems to have been, that he had set fire to the tower, in the belief that the laird slept there, and effected his purpose by thrusting combustibles and fire through three slits in the wall. It must be admitted that Meldrum was the only man, of all concerned, in whom motive for murder appears; but his guilt is, after all, far from being clear. The wall was ten feet thick, and the commission had decidedly pointed to an origin within. No trace of combustibles was ever adduced, and it was proven that he had been at Pitcaple, ten or twelve miles off, that night. On the whole, when the matter is viewed without the passions of the time, it seems most likely that the fire was accidental.
As for the Gordon family, it remained fully convinced of the guilt of the Laird and Lady of Frendraught; and since full retribution could not be obtained by the law, they behoved to have it in some other way. How they proceeded, will be hereafter described.
Dec.
1630.
At Carron, on Speyside, dwelt a branch of the family of the Grants of Glenmorriston, and near by, at Ballindalloch, was a more important family of the same name. In consequence of a homicide which James Grant of the Carron family hadcommitted some years before, there was a fierce feud between these two families. James, finding his enemies irreconcilable, and seeing no prospect of peace, became lawless and desperate. The power of the Earl of Moray proved ineffectual to repress his constant incursions upon the lands of Ballindalloch, or to obtain possession of his person. Ballindalloch himself consequently became desperate. One day, learning that John Grant of Carron and some of his people were in the forest of Abernethy cutting timber, he set upon him with a party, and killed him, but not without loss of life on his own side. He did this on the presumption that Carron aided his relative the outlaw.—G. H. S.
Dec. 3.
The Earl of Moray interposing his power as lord-lieutenant for the protection of Ballindalloch, James Grant vowed to be avenged by his own hand. On the day here noted, he came with a number of associates to Pitchass, the residence of his enemy, who, for his part, had also a number of friends attending him. ‘To train him out, he sets his corn-yard on fire, and haill laigh bigging, barns, byres, stables, wherein many horse, nolt, and sheep were burnt; and sic bestial as was not burnt, they slew and destroyed. But young Ballindalloch kept the house and durst not come out and make any defence. In like manner, James Grant, with his complices, passed to the town and lands of Tulchin, pertaining to old Ballindalloch, and burnt up and destroyed the haill bigging thereof, corns, cattle, goods and geir, and all which they could get, and to the hills goes he.’
Dec. 13.
The Earl of Moray, unable to see any better mode of dealing with this case than to ‘gar one devil ding another,’ made a paction with three broken men, the principal of whom was brother to the late chief of the Clan Mackintosh; who undertook to bring James Grant to him dead or alive. ‘They find him in the town of Auchnachill, at the head of Strathaven, within a house, and ten men with him.... James and his men wins out and takes to flight. They follow sharply, slew four of his men, wounded himself with arrows in eleven parts of his body, and when he could do no more, he was taken, and his six other men.’ As soon as his wounds were cured, he was conducted to Edinburgh, and imprisoned in the Castle, being ‘admired and looked upon as a man of great vassalage;’ but his six men were all hanged.—Spal.
1630.
Grant lay a prisoner in Edinburgh Castle for nearly two years. It is related that, a former neighbour, Grant of Tomnavoulen, passing one day under his prison windows, he called to him, asking, ‘what news from Speyside?’ ‘None very particular,’rejoined his acquaintance; ‘the best is that the country is rid of you.’ ‘Perhaps we shall meet again,’ said James.34
His wife having conveyed to him some ropes in what was believed to be a cask of butter, Grant came over the walls of the Castle (October 15, 1632) at night, and being received into the arms of his bastard son, immediately left town by a western road. For nine days he lay sick in the woods of Herbertshire, near Denny, and then vanished into the Highlands. The Privy Council, exasperated at his escape, offered a large reward for his apprehension, but in vain. He remained quiet till November 1633, when he began to resume the offensive, ‘partly travelling through the country, sometimes on Speyside, sometimes here, sometimes there, without fear or dread.’ His wife having retired in a delicate condition to a small lodging at Carron on Speyside, where Grant was known to visit her occasionally, young Ballindalloch hired a party of the broken Clan Macgregor, under a renowned outlaw of their tribe, named Patrick Dhu Ger, to beset him there. Grant being at Carron one night with only his bastard son and a single attendant, the Macgregors surrounded the house, and began to uncover it, in order to get at their victim. ‘James Grant, hearing the noise, and seeing himself so beset, that he was not able to keep that house nor win away, resolved to keep the door with the other two as long as they might, and shot out arrows at two windows, [so] that few did venture to come near the door, except their captain ... whilk James Grant perceiving, and knowing him well, presently bends a hagbut, and shoots him through both the thighs, and to the ground falls he. His men leave the pursuit, and loup about to lift him up again; but as they are at this work, James Grant, with the other two, loups frae the house and flies, leaving his wife behind him. He is sharply pursued, and many arrows shot at him; yet he wan away safely to a bog near by with his two men. Patrick Ger died of the shot, within short while, a notable thief, robber, and briganer, oppressing the people wherever he came, and therefore they rejoiced at his death.’—Spal.
1630.
Another year elapsed, during which there had been some abortive attempts at a paction between Grant and young Ballindalloch. One evening in the depth of winter (December 7, 1634), as the latter was sitting at supper in his house of Pitchass, Grant’s wife came in and whispered something in hisear. He rose, took his wife’s plaid about him, and his sword and target in his hand, and went out with the lady, his wife following under anxiety about his welfare. He thus easily fell into an ambuscade which James Grant had set for him, and was hurried off during the night, over moss and muir, to a kiln in the low country near Elgin, where he was kept in bonds under a strong guard, without any of the comforts of life, for three weeks. From this miserable condition, he escaped by the aid of one of his guards named Leonard Leslie, and got in safety to Innes House, where he was kindly entertained. By his own exertions, one Thomas Grant, the owner of the kiln, was hanged next summer for harbouring the outlaw James; two other men were banished for the same offence. Meanwhile, the Macgregors were active in despoiling and laying waste the lands of Corse and Craigievar, in professed revenge for the slaughter of Patrick Ger; but in February 1636, by the exertions of Stewart of Craigievar, seven of them were taken and hanged at the Cross of Edinburgh. This, again, brought into prominence a lawless Macgregor, known popularly under the name of Gilderoy, who, desiring vengeance on the Stewarts, burned some of their lands in Athole. Thus it was that wickedness continued its own existence in those days when public justice was weak.
One Thomas Grant, believed to be the same person who had thrown a taunt at James in Edinburgh Castle, was reputed to have undertaken, for Ballindalloch, to bring the outlaw to him dead or alive. James, hearing of this, came to Thomas’s house, and, missing him, killed sixteen of his cattle. Lighting upon Thomas lying in bed at a friend’s house near by, with his bastard brother, the pitiless outlaw took them both out naked and killed them (April 5, 1636). A few days after, he came with four men to Strathbogie, and by chance craved food at the hangman’s house. The hangman, frightened at the appearance of his visitors, stole away and gave information to the bailie, who presently came with an armed party and surrounded the house. Then a desperate and bloody conflict took place, in the course of which the bailie lost two of his men. Grant after all got clear of his assailants under cloud of night; leaving, however, his bastard son and two of his men a prey to justice. Very soon after (July 27), Gilderoy and some of his associates were likewise brought to Edinburgh, and hanged.
1630.
Notwithstanding the accumulated guilt of James Grant, hesubsequently obtained a remission, and lived to take part in the troubles attending the introduction of the Covenant.
Dec. 14.
The Privy Council issued a thundering order for the putting down of those ‘vagabonds, thieves, and limmers,’ the Egyptians, of whom large bands were going about in the north parts of the kingdom, armed, extorting whatever they needed from such of the lieges as were not able to resist them.