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Title: Bygone Scotland - Historical and Social
Author: Maxwell, David
Language: English
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                           Transcriber Notes

 ● Obvious printer typos and punctuation errors fixed.
 ● The page number in the index for an entry “Anne, Queen, reign of” has
     been corrected from 672 to 272.
 ● The name Serenus has been changed to Severus on pp. 5-6 and his year
     of death at York changed from 241 to 211 on p. 6. The year of 1588
     for the festival day of St. Giles on p. 115 changed to 1558. The
     year of 1630 on p. 124 for Montrose's execution changed to 1650.
     The year of 1560 on p. 132 for fire at Holyrood Palace during
     Cromwell's time changed from to 1650.
 ● Otherwise, variations in spelling and hyphenation, and other possible
     typos or errors in dates have been left as in the original.
 ● The text has quotations from centuries when words were spelled
     differently than today. The spelling in these quotations has been
     left as is.
 ● Italics are represented by underscores surrounding the _italic text_.
 ● Underlines are represented by plus signs surrounding the +underlined+
 ● Small capitals have been converted to ALL CAPS.
 ● A small decorative line at the start of the first chapter has been


                            BYGONE SCOTLAND.




                            BYGONE SCOTLAND:

                         HISTORICAL AND SOCIAL.


                          DAVID MAXWELL, C.E.

                    “Stands Scotland where it did?”

                     WILLIAM BRYCE, LOTHIAN STREET.








For a country of comparatively small extent, and with a large proportion
of its soil in moor and mountain, histories of Scotland have been
numerous and well-nigh exhaustive. The present work is not a chronicle
of events in order and detail, but a series of pictures from the earlier
history, expanding into fuller narratives of the more striking events in
later times. And it includes portions of contemporaneous English
history; for the history of Scotland can only be fully understood
through that of its larger and more powerful neighbour.

The growth of a people out of semi-barbarism and tribal diversity, to
civilization and national autonomy, is ever an interesting study. This
growth in Scotland included many elements. The Roman occupation of
Southern Britain banded together for defence and aggression the northern
tribes. For centuries after the Roman evacuation the old British race
held the south-western shires, up to the Clyde; the Anglo-Saxon kingdom
of Northumbria extended to the Frith of Forth; there were Norse
settlements on the eastern coast, in Orkney, and the Hebrides. Of the
various races out of which the Scottish nation was formed, the Picts
were the most numerous; but the Scots—a kindred race, wanderers from
Ireland—were the more active and aggressive—came to assume the general
government, and gave their name to the whole country north of the Solway
and the Tweed.

It is interesting to trace how, in unsettled times, the burghs developed
into little, distinct communities, largely self-governed. And the
religious element in Scotland has been a powerful factor in shaping the
character of the people and of the national institutions; the conflict
of the Covenant was the epic in Scottish history. The rebellion of 1745,
as the last specially Scottish incident in British history, is properly
the closing chapter in _Bygone Scotland_.

                                                                 D. M.

   _St. Andrew’s Day, 1893_.



             THE ROMAN CONQUEST OF BRITAIN               1
             BRITAIN AS A ROMAN PROVINCE                12
             THE ANGLO-SAXONS IN BRITAIN                18
             THE RISE OF THE SCOTTISH NATION            26
             THE DANISH INVASIONS OF BRITAIN            38
             THE LAST TWO SAXON KINGS OF ENGLAND        48
             HOW SCOTLAND BECAME A FREE NATION          63
             THE OLDER SCOTTISH LITERATURE              80
             OLD EDINBURGH                             111
               SIXTEENTH CENTURY
             OLD ABERDEEN                              152
             WITCHCRAFT IN SCOTLAND                    160
             HOLY-WELLS IN SCOTLAND                    166
             SCOTTISH MARRIAGE CUSTOMS                 172
             SCOTLAND UNDER CHARLES THE FIRST          178
             SCOTLAND UNDER CROMWELL                   199
             SCOTLAND UNDER CHARLES THE SECOND         211
             SCOTLAND UNDER JAMES THE SECOND           236
             THE REVOLUTION OF 1688                    252
             THE MASSACRE OF GLENCOE                   264
             THE UNION OF SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND         270
             THE JACOBITE RISINGS OF 1715              279
             THE REBELLION OF 1745                     289


                            BYGONE SCOTLAND.


                     The Roman Conquest of Britain.

We cannot tell—it is highly improbable that we ever shall know—from
whence came the original inhabitants of the islands of Great Britain and
Ireland. Men living on the sea-coasts of the great quadrant of
continental land which fronts these islands, would, when the art of
navigation got beyond the raft and canoe, venture to cross the narrow
seas, and form insular settlements. It is indeed possible that, before
that subsidence of the land of Western Europe which separated our
islands from the mainland and from each other, was effected by the slow
but ever-acting forces of geology, men were living on the banks of
ancient rivers which are now represented by the Clyde, the Thames, and
the Shannon.

The authentic history of Britain dates from the Roman invasion; before
this event all is myth and legend. Half a century before the
commencement of our era, Julius Cæsar, whilst consolidating in strong
and durable Roman fashion his conquest of Gaul, was informed by certain
merchants of the country that on the other side of the narrow sea which
bounded them on the north, there was a fertile land called Britain, or
_the land of tin_. With his legions, in the trireme galleys of the
period, Cæsar crossed the narrow sea, and, so far as he went, he
conquered the land.

The inhabitants were in a rude condition of life; semi-barbarous
perhaps, but certainly the peoples of Fingal and Ossian in the north,
and of Caractacus and Boadicea in the south, had advanced far beyond
simple savagery. Climatic and geographical influences had moulded into a
robust, if a fierce and stubborn type, the common materials of humanity.
The ancient Britons had, in their ideas of government, advanced beyond
mere clan chieftainship. Their annals, in stone cairns and the songs of
bards, commemorated bygone battles and deeds of warrior renown. They had
a religion with its trained priesthood—it was not a religion of
sweetness and light, but of ferocity and gloom, of human sacrifices, and
mystical rites. Its temples and altars were clusters of huge stones,
arranged in forest glades on some astronomical principles. The Druidic
faith was one of the many offshoots of ignorant barbarism, in which the
celestial orbs and the forces in terrestrial nature—lightning and
tempest—life and fire—were deified. Its priesthood was a close order,
holding in their mystical gripe the minds and lives of the people. It
has been said that the ancient Britons were such firm believers in a
future state, that they would even lend each other money, to be repaid
in the spiritual world. Their language was a dialect of the Gaelic—the
language spoken in more ancient times over the greater portion of
Western Europe.

The Roman invasion under Julius was little more than a raid. He marched
his legions as far inland as the Thames, and again retired to the coast;
he left Britain without forming a Roman settlement, and for nearly a
hundred years the island remained free, and did a considerable maritime
trade with Gaul and Scandinavia. In A.D. 43, the fourth Roman emperor,
Claudius, with a large army, invaded Britain. The native tribes,
although generally inimical to the Romans, had no concerted action
amongst themselves, were often, indeed, at war with each other; and thus
the disciplined soldiers of Rome had a comparatively easy task, although
they had many fierce encounters with native bravery and hardihood. One
British chief, Caractacus, held out the longest. He was the King of the
Silurians, the dwellers in South Wales and its neighbourhood. For
several years he withstood the masters of the world, but was ultimately
defeated in battle, and he and his family were sent prisoners to Rome.

On the eastern coast, in what is now Suffolk and Norfolk, was a tribe
called the Icenians. This tribe, under Boadicea, the widow of one of its
kings, made, in the absence of the Roman governor, Suetonius, raids upon
London, Colchester, and other Roman towns. When Suetonius returned, he
defeated Boadicea in a battle near London. She killed herself rather
than submit. Agricola succeeded Suetonius as governor, and he pushed the
Roman Conquest northwards to a line between the Firths of Forth and
Clyde. Beyond this line the Romans never made permanent conquests. Along
this line Agricola built a chain of forts as a defence of the Roman
province against incursions from the northern tribes, and as a base of
operations in attempting farther conquests. In a campaign in the year
84, he was opposed by a native force under a chief called Galgacus. A
battle was fought amongst the Grampian Hills, near Blairgowrie, with a
hardly-won victory to Agricola. It was such a victory as decided him to
make the Tay the northern boundary of Roman occupation. But Roman fleets
sailed round the northern shores,—planting the Imperial Standard on
Orkney,—and returned, having proved that Britain was an island.

The northern portion of the island, beyond the line of forts, was then
called Caledonia; border fighting was the rule, and the “barbarians from
the hills” made frequent raids into the Romanized lowlands. Indeed, not
only had the Romans to build a wall connecting the forts of Agricola,
but also, as a second line of defence, one between the Tyne and the
Solway Firth. The two walls prove the determination of the Romans to
maintain their British conquests, and also at what a high rate they
estimated the native resistance.

In 208, Severus had to re-conquer the country between the walls,
restoring that of Agricola, and he carried the Roman eagles to the
farthest points north which they ever reached. The remains of Roman
roads through Strathearn to Perth, and thence through Forfar, the
Mearns, and Aberdeen to the Moray Firth, belong to this period; and they
represent attempts to subdue the whole island. Dion, the Roman
historian, ascribes the failure of this attempt to the death of Severus
at York, in 211. He describes the Caledonians as painting on their skins
the forms of animals; of being lightly armed; making rapid dashes in
battle; of having no king, only their tribal chieftains. In 305,
Constantius defeated the tribes between the walls; they are called in
the Roman records, “Caledonians and other Picts;” the latter name being
then used for the first time, and as being the more generic appellation.
In 360, the Scots are named for the first time. They and the Picts made
a descent upon the Roman province, and this is spoken of in terms which
imply that they had previously passed the southern wall.

For about 366 years the Romans held sway in Britain; if we think of it,
for as long a period as elapsed between Henry the Eighth’s publishing
his treatise in defence of the seven Romish sacraments, and the jubilee
of Queen Victoria. The conquest of an inferior by a superior race is
generally fraught with progressive issues to the conquered people. In
the roads and architecture, the laws and the civic institutions of the
country, the Romans left lasting memorials of their British rule. Towns
rose and flourished; marshes were drained; the land was cultivated; low-
lying coast lands were, by embankments, protected from the sea; trade
advanced; Christianity and Roman literature were introduced.

As a constituent portion of the empire, Britain occupies a place in
Roman history. A Roman commander in Britain, Albinus, had himself
nominated emperor. He carried an army into Gaul, but was there beaten
and slain in a battle with the rival emperor, Severus. Severus himself
died at York, then called Eboracum; and, in 273, Constantine, since
styled _The Great_, was born in that city, his mother, Helena, being
British. Constantius, the father of Constantine, had a long struggle for
the possession of Britain with Carausius, a Belgian-born Roman general,
who, in 286, rebelled against the authority of the empire. The usurper
formed a navy, with which he for eight years prevented Roman troops from
landing on our shores, but he lost his life through treachery, and once
more the imperial eagles floated over Britain. For a time Britain might
be said to be the head-quarters of the empire. Residing principally at
York, Constantius gave his commands to Gaul and Spain, to Italy itself,
to Syria and Greece. It was in Britain that on the death of his father,
in 306, Constantine was proclaimed emperor. He was the first Christian
emperor, and all the emperors who succeeded him professed Christianity,
except Julian, who, returning to the old gods, was called _The
Apostate_; but Julian was really a wiser ruler and a better man than
many of those who called themselves Christian. The new religion became
the official faith of the empire. Not much is known with certainty of
the early British church, but there are said to have been archbishops in
the three chief cities, London, York, and Caerleon.

The grand old Latin language, containing in its literature the garnered
up thoughts and attainments of centuries, spread its refining influences
wherever the Roman camp was pitched. Latin was the official language in
Roman Britain, and it would be known and probably spoken by the well-to-
do Britons in the towns. But it never amalgamated with the old Celtic-
Welsh of the common people. Celtic, although in many respects a well-
constructed language, is not a pliant one—is not adapted for readily
intermingling with other tongues. It has in its various dialects, which
have through the succeeding centuries maintained their existence in
Wales, in Ireland, and in the Highlands of Scotland, kept itself
altogether apart from the English language; and it has given
comparatively few of its words to the modern tongue.

In the third century the Roman empire was in its decline, and hastening
to its fall. Constantine transferred the seat of government to
Byzantium, and that city was thenceforth named from him, Constantinople;
and then the Roman power was divided—there were eastern emperors and
western emperors. In the Patriarch of the Greek Church residing in
Constantinople and the Pope of the Catholic Church in Rome, we have that
division perpetuated to this day.

The Romans had never been able to conquer more than small portions of
the great country in Central Europe which lies north of the Danube and
east of the Rhine, which we now call Germany. One Teutonic chief called
Arminius, afterwards styled _The Deliverer_, destroyed a whole Roman
invading army. Towards the end of the fourth century the Teutonic
nations began to press into the Roman empire, and one by one the
provinces were wrested from it by these incursions. The Romans hired one
tribe against another; but stage by stage the empire shrank in its
dimensions, until it came to be within the frontiers of Italy; and still
the barbarians pressed in.

On the 24th day of August, 410, the evening sun was gilding the roof of
the venerable Capitol, and peace and serenity seemed to hover over the
eternal city. But at midnight the Gothic trumpets sounded as the blasts
of doom. No devoted Horatius now kept bridge and gate as in the brave
days of old. Alaric, “the curse of God,” stormed the city, to burn and
slay and inflict all the horrors of assault; but sparing Christian
churches, monks and nuns. It is said that forty thousand slaves in the
city rose against their masters.

From the spreading of the Teutonic tribes, new nations were formed in
Western Europe. The Franks pressed into Northern Gaul. Their name
remains in Franconia, and in that portion of Gaul called France. In
Italy, Spain, and Acquitaine, the Goths and other Teutonic peoples
mingled with the Romans. From the Latin language, corrupted and mixed up
with other tongues, arose the Italian, Spanish, Provençal, and French
languages, all, from the name of Rome, called the _Romance_ languages.
The eastern empire still went on; in the sixth century it recovered for
a time Italy and Africa. Its people called themselves Romans, but were
not so much Roman as Greek. After a lengthened decline, its last
fragments were destroyed by the Turks, who took Constantinople in 1453.


                      Britain as a Roman Province.

It was fortunate for Britain that it came under the rule of Rome, not in
the time of the Republic, when the conquered peoples were ruined by
spoliation and enslavement; nor yet in the earlier years of the empire,
a time of conflict and unsettlement, but after the death of the infamous
Caligula, when Claudius had assumed the purple. At the beginning of the
second century the Roman Empire was, under Trajan, at its culminating
point of magnitude and power. Trajan was succeeded by Hadrian, whose
governmental solicitude was shown in continuous journeying over his vast
empire; and by the general construction of border fortification, of
which the wall in Britain, linking the Tyne with the Solway Firth, is an
example. Antoninus followed Hadrian, and of him it has been said: “With
such diligence did he rule the subject peoples that he cared for every
man of them, equally as for his own nation; all the provinces flourished
under him.” His reign was tranquil, and his fine personal qualities
obtained for him the title of _Pius_. Of course for Britain it was the
rough rule of military conquest; but it prevented tribal conflicts,
secured order, and encouraged material development; corn was exported,
the potter’s wheel was at work, there was tin-mining in Cornwall, and
lead-mining in Northumberland and Somerset; iron was smelted in the
Forest of Dean.

But distance from the seat of government, as well as its murky skies,
and wintry severity—no vines, no olive or orange trees in its fields—
made Britain an undesirable land for Roman colonisation; it was held
chiefly as a military outpost of the empire.

Whilst the more intimate Roman rule in South Britain gave there its
civilizing institutions, its Latin tongue, its arts, laws, and
literature, and in the fourth century Christianity, these results became
less emphasized northwards—hardly reaching to the wall of Hadrian. The
country between the walls remained in the possession of heathen semi-
barbarians, scarcely more civilized or trained in the arts of civil
government than were the Celtic tribes of the north. There were no Roman
towns, and very few remains of Roman villas have been found, beyond
York: remains of roads and camps, of altars and sepulchral monuments are
found. To the south of York, Britain was a Roman settlement; north of
York it was a military occupation.

In spite of its roads, its towns, and its mines, Britain was still, at
the close of the Roman rule, a wild, half-reclaimed country; forest and
wasteland, marsh and fen occupied the larger portion of its surface. The
wolf was still a terror to the shepherd; beavers built their dams in the
marshy streams of Holderness.

Unarmed, and without any military training, feeling themselves weak and
helpless in the presence of the dominant race, the Britons of the
province were yet sufficiently patriotic, to give negative help at least
to the Pictish tribes who were ever making incursions into the district
between the walls, and even at times penetrating into the heart of the
province. One of these inroads in the reign of Valentinian all but tore
Britain from the empire: an able general, Theodosius, found southern
Britain itself in the hands of the invaders; but he succeeded in driving
them back to their mountains, winning back for Rome the land as far as
the wall of Agricola, and the district between the walls was constituted
a fifth British province, named after the Emperor, Valentia.

And whilst the Pictish clans were thus making wild dashes over the
walls, the sea-board of the province was harrassed by marauders from the
sea. Irish pirates called Scots, or “wanderers,” harried the western
shores; whilst on the eastern and southern coast, from the Wash to the
Isle of Wight, a stretch of coast which came to be called the Saxon
Shore, Saxon war-keels were making sudden raids for plunder, and for
kidnapping men, women, and children, to be sold into slavery. They also
intercepted Roman galleys in the Channel, which were engaged in
commerce, or on imperial business. In the year 364, a combined fleet of
Saxon vessels for a time held the Channel.

And now the Romanized British towns began to shew their lack of faith in
imperial protection, by strengthening themselves by walls. A special
Roman commander was appointed, charged with the defence of the Saxon
shore. The shore was dotted by strong forts, garrisoned by a legion of
ten thousand men. The thick forests which lined the coast to the
westward of Southampton water were considered sufficient guards against
invasion in that quarter. As long as the Romans remained in Britain they
were able to repel the attacks of their barbarous assailants. But when
the fated hour came—when Rome in her death-struggle with the Teutonic
hordes, whose gripe was at her throat in every one of her dominions in
western Europe, and even in Italy itself, had to recall her troops from
Britain—then the encircling foes closed in upon their prey.

In withdrawing, in 410, his troops from Britain, the Emperor Honorius,
grandson of the general Theodosius we have mentioned, told the people in
a letter to provide for their own government and defence. We may imagine
how ill prepared, after ten generations of servitude, the Romanized
Britons were for such an emergency. But they had fortified towns with
their municipal institutions, and under the general sway of Rome they
had lost their tribal distinctions, and become a more united people; and
not in any one of the Romanized lands which became a prey to the
barbarians did these encounter so prolonged and so energetic a
resistance as in Britain. For some thirty years after the Roman
evacuation of the province, it held out or maintained a fluctuating
struggle with its enemies. The Scoto-Irish bucaneers were not only
continuing their raids upon the western coast, but they planted
settlements in Argyle to the north of Agricola’s wall, and in Galloway—
between the two walls. And the Picts were ever making incursions from
the north. The policy was tried of hiring barbarian against barbarian.
The Picts were the nearest and most persistent danger; and the marauders
from over the North Sea,—Saxons, Angles, and Jutes, were, if not hired
as mercenaries, permitted to hold a footing in the land, as a defence
against Pictish invasion. About 450, three keels filled with Jutes,
under two brothers, Hengist and Horsa, with a white horse as their
cognisance, came by invitation from their own home—which is from them
called Jutland—and landed on the Isle of Thanet on the eastern Kentish
shore, making this their base for further conquests.


                      The Anglo-Saxons in Britain.

The Teutonic nations from mid-Europe which, in their various tribes,
conquered Italy, Spain, and Gaul, had had previous intercourse with the
empire. Many had become Christians, and in their conquests they did not
destroy. Their kings ruled the invaded lands, and their chiefs seized
large portions of soil; but they adopted the provincial Latin tongues,
and the general government was by Roman law. The clergy were mostly
Romans, and they retained considerable power and estates. Thus the
Goths, Visigoths, and Vandals did not become the peoples of the
countries which they overran. The Teutonic element was absorbed into the
national elements, largely resembling what afterwards took place in
England, under the Norman Conquest.

But it was very different in Britain. Its Teutonic invaders—Jutes,
Angles, and Saxons, had lived outside the influence of the empire; and
indeed we know very little about them before they came to Britain. With
the landing of Ella, in 477, Anglo-Saxon history may be said to begin.
They were still heathens, and they knew nothing, and they cared nothing
for the arts, the laws, or the language of Rome. Their object was not
merely rule and authority over the Romanized Britons, but their
destruction, and the entire occupation of the land. As they conquered,
they killed the Britons or made them slaves, or drove them into Cornwall
and Wales in the west, and into Caledonia in the north. They came over
the North Sea in families, and thus propagated largely as an unmixed
Anglo-Saxon race. But doubtless there were many more men than women in
their bands, and there would be marriages with native women. Thus
strains of British and Roman blood were left in the new occupants of
what came to be England, and the lowlands of Scotland. The Anglo-Saxon
tribes in Britain thus became a nation with its own language and laws,
manners and customs. From the name of one tribe—the Angles—the southern
and larger portion of the island came to be called _England_. _English_
is the common language of Britain, and of its many off-shoots scattered
over the habitable globe.

Kent—the nearest British land to the continent—bore the first brunt of
Anglo-Saxon, as it had done of Roman, conquest. Then came Sussex (South
Saxon). But the third settlement, that of Wessex (West Saxon), was a far
larger one; taking in at least seven shires. It began in Hampshire,
under Cedric, and his son Cynric—then styled Ealdermen—and gradually
extended over all south-western Britain, and stretching northwards over
Oxford and Buckingham shires. This was the era assigned to the legendary
British King Arthur, fighting strongly for his native soil and his
Christian faith, against the heathen invaders.

Another, the fourth Saxon kingdom, was that of Essex. And then there
were three Anglian kingdoms—East Anglia, Northumbria and Mercia. East
Anglia comprised Suffolk (South-folk), Norfolk (North-folk), and
Lincolnshire. Northumbria included the country north of the Humber, as
far as the Frith of Forth. That portion of Northumbria now known as
Yorkshire was then called Deira, with York, then named Eboracum, its
chief town; the portion north of the Tees was named Bernicia. The
kingdom of Mercia, that is, of the _March_, had its western frontier to
Wales, being thus the midlands of England.

And besides South Wales, including Cornwall, Devonshire, and the greater
portion of Somersetshire, the old race still held a large district to
the north of Wales, called Strathclyde, taking in Galloway and other
districts in the south-east of what is now Scotland; together with
Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Lancashire, down to the river Dee, and the
city of Chester; they, even to the end of the sixth century, held
portions of west Yorkshire, including Leeds.

The Anglo-Saxon occupation having thus at the close of the sixth century
resolved itself into seven independent governments, is hence called the
Heptarchy. But the division was not a lasting one. The conquerors,
although a kindred race—with one understood language—and one old
Scandinavian faith, were far from being a homogeneous people. They had
tribal proclivities, and were generally at war with each other—“battles
of kites and crows,” Milton wrote. At times one king was powerful, or of
such personal superiority to his neighbours, that he assumed a
suzerainty over them, and was called a _Bretwalda_. But the Anglo-Saxon
kings were not autocrats; they had to consult their Witans—their council
of “witty or wise ones.” And there was in society the elements of what
came to be feudalism. The King had his Thanes, or Earls; and these had
their _churls_, who, holding lands under their lords, were expected to
follow him in the wars. And there was slavery; men were made slaves who
committed crimes, or were taken prisoners in war.

The seventh century witnessed in Anglo-Saxon Britain the conversion from
the old Norse belief in Odin, Thor, and Fries to the Christian faith.
Not from their British slaves, nor from the independent British of Wales
and Strathclyde, did the new faith reach them. In 597, Pope Gregory sent
Augustine and a number of other monks to preach Christianity in England.
The most powerful ruler in Britain at this time was the Kentish king,
Ethelbert; he was Bretwalda, exercising some authority over all the
kings south of the Humber; and he had married a Frankish wife who was a
Christian. The King received the missionaries kindly; and they preached
to him and his chief men through interpreters. In a short time the King
and a number of his people were baptized. Augustine made Canterbury his
headquarters, and it has ever since been the chief See of the Anglican

In 635, Oswald, King of Northumbria, routed a British Strathclyde army,
largely shattering this kingdom of the older race; it was as much as the
Welsh could do to hold the country west of the Severn.

In this seventh century, Devon and the whole of Somersetshire became
English. Oswald was now Bretwalda, and Northumbria, in the struggles for
supremacy of the Saxon kingdoms, was for a generation the foremost
power. It also became Christian, but more from the labours of Scottish
missionaries from Iona, than from the successors of Augustine.

In early life, Oswald, during an exile amongst the Scots, had visited
Iona, and there became acquainted with Christianity. On his return he
founded a monastery on Lindisfarne, thence called Holy Isle; a Scottish
Bishop, Aidan, he placed at its head; a succeeding Bishop, Cuthbert, was
the most famous of the saints of Northern England. And the Christianity
which came to Scotland from Ireland through Columba, himself a Dalriadan
Scot, differed in many ways from that which had come from Rome. Not only
did they differ in ritual, in dates of festivals, and in the shape of
the monkish tonsure, but in what was of more political importance—
ecclesiastical discipline and organization. The Church of Augustine
implied dioceses, bishops in gradation of rank and authority,
culminating in the Bishop of Rome as the head of the Church. The Church
of Columba was a network of monasteries, a missionary church full of the
zeal of conversion, but wanting in the power of organization. And thus
there was conflict between the two churches, and this conflict was an
important factor in the political history of the times. Ultimately the
policy of Rome prevailed. The country was divided into dioceses, the
loose system of the mission-station sending out priests to preach and
baptize as their enthusiasm led them, gave place to the parish system
with its regular incumbency, and settled order.

In the beginning of the ninth century the strife for headship over the
others, which had been long waged by the kings of the stronger kingdoms,
was terminated by the Northumbrian Thanes owning Egbert, King of Wessex,
as their over-lord. Egbert defeated the Britons in Cornwall, brought
Mercia under his rule, and united all the territories south of the
Tweed. The Kings of Wessex were henceforth, so far as Anglo-Saxon rivals
were concerned, Kings of England.


                    The Rise of the Scottish Nation.

In the second century, Ptolemy, the Egyptian astronomer, composed the
first geography of the world, illustrated by maps. He would probably get
his information about Britain—which was still called Albion—from Roman
officers. What is now England, is shown with fair accuracy; but north of
the Wear and the Solway it is difficult to identify names, or even the
prominent features of the country; and the configuration of the land
stretches east and west, instead of north and south.

The Celts were not indigenous to Britain. It is hardly possible to trace
in any—in the very earliest peoples, of whom history or archæology can
speak—the first occupants of any one spot on the earth. Science is ever
pushing back, and still farther back, the era of man’s first appearance
as fully developed man upon the globe. And in his families, his tribes,
and his nations, man has ever been a migrant. Impelled by the
necessities of life, or by his love of adventure or of conquest, he has
changed his hunting and grazing grounds, made tracks through forests,
sought out passes between mountains; and the great, all-encompassing sea
has ever been a fascination; the sound of its waves a siren-song
inciting him to make them a pathway to new lands beyond his horizon.
Before the Celtic Britons dwelt in this island in the northern seas,
which they have helped to a great name, there were tribes here who had
not yet learned the uses of the metals, whose spear-heads and arrow-tips
were flints, their axes and hammers of stone. But the Celts were of that
great Aryan race, tribes of which, spreading westwards over Europe, had
carried with them so much of the older civilization of Persia, that they
never degenerated into savagedom. The Britons were probably in pre-Roman
times the only distinctive people upon the island.

How came the Celts to Britain? Probably colonies from Old Gaul first
took possession of the portions of Britain nearer to their own country;
and gradually spreading northwards, came in time to be scattered over
what is now England and Wales, and the Lowlands of Scotland. Ireland
being in sight of Britain from both Wigton and Cantyre, adventurers
would cross the North Channel, and become the founders of the Irish

The Picts—a Latin name for the first northern tribes whom the Romans
distinguished from the Britons—called themselves _Cruithne_. Their
earliest settlements in and near Britain appear to have been in the
Orkneys, the north-east of Ireland, and the north of Scotland. They must
then have made considerable advancement in the art of navigation. At the
time of the Roman invasion, the southern Britons called the dwellers in
the northern part of the island _Cavill daoin_, or “people of the
woods,”—and thus the Romans named the district Caledonia. It has been
surmised that the Picts of ancient Caledonia were a colony of Celtic-
Germans; for such offshoots from the parent race occupied portions of
central Europe. There was the same element of Druidism; but the Druids
in Caledonia declined in influence and authority at an earlier date than
did their brethren in Wales and South Britain. The bards took their
place in preserving and handing down—orally and in verse—the traditions
of their tribes—the heroism and virtues, the loves and adventures, of
their ancestors. It may be noted that whilst in this early poetry the
spirits of the dead are frequently introduced, and the powers of nature—
sun, moon, and stars, the wind, the thunder, and the sea—are
personified, there is no mythology,—no deities are called in to aid the
heroes in battling with their foes.

By the end of the Roman occupation, the Caledonian Picts had spread down
east and central Scotland as far as Fife. And there are Pictish traces
in Galloway on the west coast; probably a migration from Ireland. After
the Romans left, the Picts, in their southern raids, so often crossed
and made use of Hadrian’s wall, that the Romanized-Britons came to call
it the Pictish wall. Their language was a dialect of Celtic, afterwards
coalescing with, or being absorbed in, the Gaelic of the Scots, and
which came to be the common tongue in the Highlands and western isles;
but it was never a spoken tongue in the Scottish Lowlands.

The Scots are first found historically in Ireland; and they were there
in such numbers and influence, that one of the names of Ireland from the
sixth to the twelfth century was Scotia. Irish traditions represent the
Scotti as “Milesians from Spain;” Milesia was said to be the name of the
leader of the colonizing expedition. But their Celtic name of Gael
sounds akin to Gaul. Their history in Ireland forms an important factor
in the annals of that country. Those of the Irish people who considered
themselves the descendants of the earlier colonists of the island never
came heartily to recognise as fellow-countrymen,—although these had been
for many generations natives of the land,—the descendants of those who
settled at a later date. On the other hand—and similarly keeping up old
race hatreds and lines of demarcation—the descendants of the later
settlers looked upon themselves as a superior race, and never heartily
called themselves Irishmen. This restricted and mock patriotism,
aggravated by religious differences, has almost made of the Irish people
two nations.

The Scotti must have made considerable settlements in North Britain in
the second or third century, or they would not have been in a position
to join the Picts in attacks upon the Roman province in the fourth
century. When we come to enquire who were the peoples associated with
the Christian missionary Columba in the latter half of the sixth
century, we find that the districts bordering the east coast down to the
Firth of Forth, and the central Highlands, with the chief fort at
Inverness, were peopled by Picts; and that Scots were in Argyle and the
Isles as far north as Iona. Their settlement around the shores of Loch
Linnhe—the arm of the sea at the entrance to which Oban now stands—
became in time a little kingdom called Dalriada, which gradually shook
off the over-lordship of the Scotic kings in Ireland, and maintained
itself against the Picts on its northern and eastern borders. A British
king ruled in Strathclyde, which included the south-west of Scotland up
to the Clyde; and, bordering on Strathclyde, Anglo-Saxon Northumbria
included the east of Scotland up to the Forth. Up to this time the Celts
in North Britain had left no written history behind them; indicating
that they were less civilized than their Welsh and Irish kin. It is in
the annals of Beda and other Anglo-Saxon writers that we find anything
like trustworthy history after the departure of the Romans. The
Romanized Britons got Christianity from their rulers, but subjection to
the Bishop of Rome was not transmitted with the faith. The British
bishops, at their meeting under St. Augustine’s oak, declined to submit
to the missionary from Rome.

It is usually said that Scotland gave Patrick to Ireland. It was a
strange kind of _giving_. Shortly after the Roman exodus, amongst a
number of Britons taken captive by a Scotti-Irish raid on the banks of
the Clyde, was a young lad of sixteen, who was sent as a slave to tend
sheep and cattle in Antrim. The people round him were idolators; but in
the solitude of the pastures he nursed the Christian faith of his
childhood, and burned with the zeal of a young apostle for the
conversion of the land. For ten years he remained in captivity, then he
made his escape, and after many wanderings, reached his old home.
Ordained a priest, and in time a bishop, he set manfully to realize in
Ireland the dream of his youth, and he had abundant success. He founded
churches, seminaries, and monasteries; the new faith spread like
wildfire over the land.

And a century later, in 563, thirty-three years before the Roman mission
of Augustine, Ireland sent over Columba to Britain. He, with twelve
companion monks, founded on the little isle of Iona a monastery, which
became the centre of Christianity in North Britain. The Scotti who had
settled in the neighbouring islands, and on the nearest mainland, were
already Christians. But Columba visited and converted the Pictish King
Bruda, and founded a number of churches and monasteries. Than Iona there
is no spot of greater historical interest in the United Kingdom; but
none of the ecclesiastical ruins found there date from Columba. The
first buildings were of wood, but the original foundations in Skye and
Tiree were his work. Columba was also a warrior, taking a strong part in
several campaigns in Ireland, as a liegeman of the Scotic King. The
disciples of Columba were called Culdees, meaning, from their monastic
life, “sequestered persons.” The Pictish bard Ossian is said, when blind
and in old age, to have met and conversed with one of these Culdees.
After ten years of prosperous rule in Iona, Columba contributed to start
into greater unity and more vigorous life the Scotic settlement of
Dalriada. He consecrated a young chieftain, Aedhan, as king; and Aedhan
drove the Bernicians from the debatable land south of the head-waters of
the Forth, and formed a league of Scots and Strathclyde Britons against
Northumbria itself. But the league was, in 603, defeated by the
Northumbrian King Ethelfrith in a great battle. The Scots were thrown
back into their Highland fastnesses, and Beda says, writing a hundred
years later, “From that day to this no Scot King has dared to come into
battle with the English folk.” Ethelfrith, by another victory over the
Welsh at Chester, in 611, and further successes up to Carlisle, divided
by a great gap the Kingdom of Strathclyde from North Wales, and it
became tributary to Northumbria. On the decline of Northumbria, in the
eighth century, Strathclyde re-asserted its independence; and, in a
restricted sense, its extent, more nearly answered to its name, “The
Valley of the Clyde.” With Galloway, it continued under its own rulers,
until, in the tenth century, it was connected with the Kingdom of Scone
by the election to its throne—if it could afford a throne—of Donald,
brother of Constantine II., King of Scots.

The Picts whom Columba converted appear to have been then consolidated
under one monarch, Brude; his rule was from Inverness to Iona on the
west; on the north to the Orkneys—probably including Aberdeen; its
southern boundary is undefined. Of succeeding kings to Brude, there is a
list of names; but little is known of the men themselves until, in 731,
we come to Angus Mac-Fergus. In reprisal for the capture of his son by
Selvach, King of the Dalriad Scots, he attacked Argyle, and reduced the
whole western highlands. The Strathclyde Britons were assailed by a
brother of Angus, in 756, and their chief town, Alclyde, destroyed. In
the beginning of the ninth century, the seat of the Pictish government
appears to have migrated from Inverness into Perthshire,—Scone becoming
its political capital.

The history of the Dalriadan Scots, although interwoven with that of the
Picts, and meeting at many points with the histories of the Britons of
Strathclyde, and the Angles of Northumbria, is yet misty and legendary.
True, there is a list of kings, and their stalwart portraits hang in the
great hall of Holyrood; so extensive is this list, that if they had
reigned for anything like an average period, it would carry the history
back to about three hundred years B.C.

We find something like a trustworthy beginning in Fergus, the son of
Earac, in 503. From this date for upwards of two hundred years, down to
Selvach, who was conquered by the Pictish King Angus Mac-Fergus, there
is from the _Irish Annals_, and the _Church History_ of Beda, a
reasonable certainty. After this there is another century of hazy
legend. If, as seems probable, Dalriada continued through the latter
seventy years of the eighth, and the first half of the ninth century,
under Pictish rule, it is not easy to see how, in the middle of the
ninth century, Kenneth Mac-Alpine, called in the _Irish Annals_ a king
of the Picts, founded, as there is no doubt he did, a line of Scottish
monarchs on the throne of Scone. One hypothesis is, that Kenneth was the
son of a Pictish king by a Scottish mother, and by the Pictish law, the
mother’s nationality determined that of the children. Whatever the
circumstances of the case, the accession of Kenneth Mac-Alpine
represents an era in Scottish history. There was thenceforth such a
complete union of Scots and Picts, that as separate races they lost all
distinctiveness. But it certainly appears that, both by numerical
superiority and historical prestige, the country should have been
Pictland, rather than Scotland.

The kingdom of Kenneth included central Scotland from sea to sea, Argyle
and the Isles, Perthshire, Fife, Angus, and the Mearns. Lothian was
still Northumbrian. The Vale of the Clyde, Ayr, Dumfries, and Galloway,
were under a British king at Dumbarton. There were several independent
chieftains in Moray and Mar; and Orkney and the northern and north-
western fringes of the country, were dominated by Norsemen.


                    The Danish Invasions of Britain.

In the first quarter of the ninth century, invaders from lands farther
north than Jutland—hence called Norsemen—played broadly the same parts
in Britain as the Angles and Saxons had played three hundred years
previously. These Norsemen, in their war galleys, prowled over the
Northern Seas, plundering the coasts, and making first incursions and
then settlements in Muscovy, Britain, and Gaul. They discovered and
colonised Iceland. Many centuries before Columbus, they had sailed along
the coast of North America, and even attempted settlements thereon. On
the northern coast of France, Normandy, under its powerful dukes, had
become almost an independent state.

In their English invasions they are commonly called Danes, but in their
own homes they formed three kingdoms, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.
Probably the invaders of England were mainly Danes. They were still
“heathens,” _i.e._, of the old Scandinavian faith; and they held the
Christian faith in supreme detestation. They were daring, fierce, and
cruel; but still people of a kindred race, speaking dialects of the same
Teutonic tongue; and when they settled in the land and became
Christians, their language and manners differed so little from those of
the Anglo-Saxons, that they did not remain a separate nation, as the
Anglo-Saxons did from the British. It was more as if another Teuton
tribe had come over and become joint occupants of the land. But, to
begin with, they came as plunderers, taking their booty home. They
ravaged Berkshire, Hampshire, and Surrey, destroying churches and
monasteries. They invaded and took possession of East Anglia. They
penetrated into Mercia; at Peterborough they burned the minster, slaying
the abbot and his monks. They made extensive settlements in Yorkshire
and Lincolnshire.

In 876, the Danes invaded Wessex, of which Alfred—one of the grandest
names in old English history—was then King. Alfred had to fight the
invaders both on sea and land. In and about Exeter there were several
engagements, resulting in the Danes agreeing to leave Alfred’s
territories. Two years later they broke truce, made a sudden incursion
to Chippenham, and became for a time masters of the west country. This
is the time assigned to the neatherd-cottage negligence of Alfred, in
allowing the cakes to burn in baking, whilst sheltering amongst the wood
and morasses of Somersetshire. After a time he organised a sufficient
army to meet, fight with, and beat the Danes—they gave him oaths and
hostages against further disturbance, and their King Guthrum—thence
called Athelstan—with thirty of his chief followers were baptized. But
the Danes now held East Anglia, Northumbria, and large portions of Essex
and Mercia,—indeed more than one-half of what is now England. Alfred
being in peace during the latter years of his reign, devoted himself to
works of governmental utility, he made a digest of the laws, and saw
that justice was impartially administered; and he was the father of the
English navy. His mind was cultured with the best learning of the times,
and he made Anglo-Saxon translations of the Psalms, of Æsop’s Fables,
and of Bede’s Church History.

In the first year of the tenth century, Alfred’s son, Edward (styled the
Elder, so as not to confuse him with later Edwards), began a reign of
twenty-five years. He was a strong king; through all his reign he had
conflicts with the Danes, who had settled in the north and east of
England; always beating them, and then having to quell fresh
insurrections. And he made himself Over-King of the Scots and Welsh; so
he was the first Anglo-Saxon king who became lord of nearly all Britain.
Wessex, Kent, and Sussex he had inherited, Wales, Strathclyde, and
Scotland acknowledged him as Suzerain. His son, Athelstan, succeeded him
in 925; and the King of England now held such a high place among the
rulers of Western Europe, that several of his sisters married foreign
kings and princes. In 937 a great battle was fought in the North, when a
combination of Scots under Constantine, and Danes and Irish under Anlaf,
were defeated with much slaughter by Athelstan. It is called by the old
chroniclers the Battle of Brunanburg, but the locality is uncertain.
Constantine and Anlaf escaped; but Constantine’s son was killed, as,
says the old chronicler, were “five Danish Kings and seven Jarls.”

Athelstan died in 941. Two of his brothers, and one brother’s son
occupied the throne successively during the next eighteen years. Then,
in 959, Edgar, a grandson of Alfred, then only sixteen years of age, was
by the Witan made King. He was called _The Peaceable_; during his reign
of sixteen years, no foe, foreign or domestic, vexed the land.
Northumbria, extending as far north as the Forth, with Edwinsburh its
border fortress—garrisoned by Danes and Anglo-Saxons—having long been a
trouble to the Kings of Wessex, Edgar divided the earldom. He made
Oswulf Earl of the country beyond the Tees—including the present county
of Northumberland; and Osla, Earl of Deira, where the Danes had ruled,
with York for his chief town; but the Danes were allowed to live
peaceably under their own laws. And Edgar granted Lothian, containing
the counties of Linlithgow, Edinburgh, and Haddington, to Kenneth, King
of Scots, to be held under himself. And thus Lothian was ever after held
by the Scottish Kings, and its English speech became the official
language of Scotland. With Strathclyde, west of the Solway, under a
Scottish prince, the map of the Kingdom of Scotland was now broadly
traced out.

Edgar commuted the annual Welsh tribute to 300 wolves’ heads. He
appointed standard weights and measures, maintained an efficient fleet,
and was altogether a fine example of a man who—although of small stature
and mean presence—by vigour of mind and will, ruled ably and well in
rude times. He was really _Basileus_,—lord-paramount of all Britain.
After his coronation at Bath, which was not before he had reigned
thirteen years—he sailed with his fleet round the western coasts. Coming
to Chester, it is related that eight Kings, viz.: Kenneth of Scotland,
Malcolm of Cumberland, Maccus of the Western Isles, and five Welsh
princes did homage to him. They are said to have rowed him in a boat on
the Dee—he steering—from the palace of Chester to the minster of St.
John, where there was solemn service; and then they returned in like

But these halcyon days for England of peace and settled government ended
with Edgar. He died in 975, leaving two sons—Edward by a first wife—
Ethelred by a second. Edward succeeded, but reigned only four years,
being assassinated at the instigation of his step-mother, who desired
the crown for her son. Edward was in consequence styled _The Martyr_.
Ethelred was named _The Unready_. He was weak, cowardly, and thoroughly
bad; his long reign of thirty-eight years, was one duration of
wretchedness and confusion. He had hardly begun to reign when the
foreign Danes began to be troublesome, and this time it was a farther
stage of invasion: they meant not plunder or partial settlement, but

In the first quarter of this tenth century, the Northmen had taken
possession of a large district on the north of France. Their leader,
Rolf Ganger, became a Christian—or at least was baptized as such,—
married the daughter of Charles the Simple, King of the West Franks, and
was, as Duke of Normandy, confirmed in his possessions—a territory on
either side of the Seine, with Rouen for its capital. And after this,
the Danes and other Northmen, in their expeditions against England, had
assistance from their kinsfolk in Normandy.

Ethelred tried first to bribe the Danes to leave him in peace; and for
the money for this purpose he levied the first direct tax imposed upon
the English nation. It was called Dane-gild, and amounted to twelve
pence on each hide of land, excepting lands held by the clergy. But the
idea was a vain one, for whilst the tax was vexatious, the pirate-ships
still swarmed along the English shores. In 1001, the Danes, under King
Sweyn, attacked Exeter, but were repulsed by the citizens. Then—beating
an English army—they ravaged Devon, Dorset, Hants., and the Isle of
Wight; loading their ships with the spoils. Next year Ethelred gave them
money; but finding this of no use, he devised the mad and wicked scheme
of ordering a general massacre of the Danes residing in England. On St.
Bryce’s Day this massacre, to a large extent, took place; it included
aged persons, women, and children. Gunhild, a sister of Sweyn’s, was one
of the victims. Burning for revenge, Sweyn again invaded England. Exeter
he now took and plundered, and again marched eastwards through the
southern shires. He was generally successful, for there was treason and
incompetency amongst the English leaders; and the unpopularity of
Ethelred was a down-drag on the English cause. Year after year, Sweyn’s
fleets appeared on the fated coasts, and the Danes marched farther and
farther inwards. Through East Anglia they went into the heart of
England, burning Oxford and Northampton.

In August, 1013, Sweyn sailed up the Humber and Trent to Gainsborough.
Here he had submission made to him of the Earl of Northumbria, and of
the towns of Leicester, Lincoln, Nottingham, Stamford, and Derby. He
then marched to Bath, where the western Thanes submitted to him, and
then London submitted. Ethelred and his queen fled to Normandy, Emma,
the Queen, being the Duke’s sister, and Danish Sweyn was virtually King
of England. But he did not long enjoy his conquest; early in 1014 he
died at Gainsborough.

Canute, the son of Sweyn, was a man of strong will, and he had already
achieved warrior renown: but he had a severe struggle before he secured
his father’s conquests. First, after Sweyn’s death, the Witan, after
extorting promises that he would now govern rightly, recalled King
Ethelred. Receiving better support, and his son Edmund, named Ironside,
being an able commander, he defeated Canute, who had to take to his
ships. Then Ethelred died, and Canute returned. There was much
fighting,—London being twice unsuccessfully assaulted by the Danes,—and
then the rival princes, Edmund and Canute, had a conference on a little
island in the Severn. They agreed to a division of the kingdom,—the
Saxon district to be south,—and the Danish district to be north of the
Thames. A few weeks after the treaty, Edmund died, and although he left
a young son Edward, Canute became sole monarch. For twenty-four years,—
1017 to 1041,—England was under Danish rule. Canute married Emma, the
widow of King Ethelred, and he further tried to win over his English
subjects by sending home all Danish soldiers, except a bodyguard of 3000
men. Besides England, he ruled over the three Scandinavian kingdoms in
the north, and is said to have exacted homage from Malcolm, King of
Scotland, and his two under-kings. He was the first Danish King who
professed Christianity. He introduced the faith into Denmark, and
himself made a pilgrimage to Rome. He reigned nineteen years, dying in

After Canute’s death, the Witan divided England into two portions. The
counties north of the Thames, including London, were assigned to Harold,
a son of Canute by his first wife; and the district south of the river
to Hardicanute, his son by Emma. Harold died in 1039, and Hardicanute
became sole King. He died two years later, and before he was buried, his
half-brother Edward, the son of Ethelred and Emma, and thus a descendant
of Alfred, was chosen King.


                  The Last Two Saxon Kings of England.

A notable personage, Earl Godwin, was the chief influence in this
reversion to the old race. Who was Earl Godwin? In 1020, Canute, having
come to trust his English subjects, and wishing to mix the two nations
in the administration of affairs, created Godwin Earl of the West
Saxons. He was an able administrator, an eloquent speaker, of high
courage, and these qualities generally exerted for the freedom and
independence of his country; and he came to have the greatest personal
influence of any man in England. Little is known with certainty of his
birth, but he married Gytha, the sister of Ulf, a Danish Earl, who had
married a sister of Canute, and whose son, Sweyne, became after the
death of Hardicanute, King of Denmark. Godwin had several children, all
of whom occupy conspicuous places in the history of this eleventh
century; the second son, Harold, being the last of the Saxon Kings of

Earl Godwin became the King’s chief minister, and the King married his
daughter Edith. The King lived an ascetical, monkish life, and they had
no children. Edward had been born in England, but on the deposition of
his father Ethelred, his mother Emma took him to the court of her
brother Robert, Duke of Normandy; and he had lived there through the
reigns of Canute and Harold, coming back to England with Hardicanute. He
was thus thoroughly Norman-French in his speech and his manners,—very
fond of his young cousin, Duke William, and he now gathered French
people about him, and promoted them to office and estate. The French
language and fashions prevailed at Edward’s court; and in this language
lawyers began to write deeds, and the clergy to preach sermons. These
foreign modes, so different from the English, gave great displeasure to
the old nobles; and Earl Godwin—although three of his sons had been
advanced to earldoms—rebelled against the King’s authority. After some
fighting, the Earl’s army deserted him at Dover, and he had to seek
refuge in Flanders. His daughter, the queen, was deprived of her lands,
and sent to a nunnery of which the King’s sister was abbess.

At the outbreak of the revolt, Edward asked aid from William; the aid
was not required, but William, then twenty-three years of age, came,
with a retinue of knights to his cousin’s court. They were hospitably
entertained, and it is said that the King promised to bequeath his crown
to William.

Things did not go on well during Godwin’s absence, so when, in 1052, he
and his sons appeared with a fleet in the Channel, there was an under-
current of mutiny in the King’s ships under their French commanders.
“Should Englishmen fight with and slay Englishmen, that outlandish folks
might profit thereby?” So the King had to take Godwin back into his
honours and estates: but he died next year, leaving to Harold his
titles, and his place as foremost man in England.

And now the dangers of a disputed succession loomed over England. The
Witan advised Edward to send for Edward, the son of Edmund Ironside,
then an exile in Hungary. Edward came with his family—a son Edgar, and
three daughters: but he died shortly after his arrival. About this time
Harold was shipwrecked on the Norman coast; William kept him prisoner
for some time, and under circumstances of fraud and chicanery, an oath
was extorted from him to favour William’s pretensions to the English
throne. Edward died on 5th January, 1046, at the age of 65. He was
buried next day in Westminster Abbey, which he had built. There, in the
centre of the magnificent pile, is his shrine, for, about a century
after his death, he was canonised, and awarded the title of _Confessor_.

And now, who was to be chosen King of England? For a choice had to be
made. Edgar the Atheling was quite young, and was hardly English—having
been born and brought up in a foreign land; so, in these unsettled
times, he was not thought of. The Witan were obliged to do what had
never previously been done in English history, and has never been done
since (except partially, in the case of calling William of Orange to
reign jointly with his wife Mary),—to choose a King not of the blood

But it was not a difficult choice. Amongst the nobles of England, one
man, Harold, stood foremost, both in strength of position and in
personal qualifications. He had now for years been the chief
administrator—a born ruler of men—energetic yet prudent—valiant without
ferocity; and he had been the later recommendation of Edward as his
successor. So, on the very day of Edward’s burial, Harold was crowned in
the same Abbey, King of England.

Harold’s troubles began almost from the day of his coronation. William
sent demands for the crown; Edward had promised it to him, the King’s
nearest of kin, and Harold had sworn over concealed relics, to help him
to it. It was replied that the crown was not disposable by Edward; all
he could do was to recommend a successor to the Witan; and this he had
done in favour of Harold: Edward’s kinship to William was on the
maternal side, not on that of the blood-royal of England: and as to
Harold’s oath, it was extorted by force and fraud, and was entirely
_nil_ in that it pledged Harold to do what he had no right to do,—the
diversion of the crown from the will of the English people. William
stormed and threatened, and, in building ships and organising troops,
made active preparations for the invasion of England.

Harold set about preparations for the defence of his kingdom. He spent
the summer in the south, getting ready a fleet and army. He had to wait
too long for William; provisions falling short in the beginning of
September, he had to disband the most of his troops. And meantime
another foe, and this one of his own house, was intriguing against him—
his brother Tostig. Harold had given Tostig the earldom of
Northumberland; but he reigned so badly that the people rose and
expelled him,—Harold sanctioning the expulsion. Tostig now went to
Harold Hardrada, the King of Norway, and induced him to invade England.
A fleet was sent up the Humber; York was captured, and there Harold
Hardrada was proclaimed King. But English Harold—hastily getting an army
together, met the invaders at Stamford Bridge; and there, on September
25th, a fierce battle was fought,—ending in victory for England; the
Norwegian King and the traitorous Tostig both being slain.

But in meeting the Norwegian invasion, the Anglo-Saxons lost England.
Four days later, William, with a banner consecrated by the Pope, landed
near Pevensey in Sussex. Harold was seated at a banquet in York when the
evil news reached him. And now, the last in a life of turmoil, Harold
began his march through England; collecting on his way what troops he
could, he reached the hill Senlac, nine miles from Hastings, on the 13th
of October. Here he marshalled his army—nearly all on foot—and next day
the Normans attacked him. It was a well-contested fight; but discipline
and knighthood prevailed. The setting sun witnessed a routed English
army, its leader slain, and the Norman William, conqueror of England.

                  *       *       *       *       *

The eleventh century, so momentous in English history, was also an
important one in the history of Scotland. The Norse energy and ability
to rule shewed itself in the Earls of Orkney, who dominated the
Hebrides, and Ross, Moray, Sutherland, and Caithness. About 1010, Earl
Sigurd married the daughter of King Malcolm II. In 1014, Sigurd went
over to Ireland, to aid the Danish kings there against Brian Boru. In a
battle at Clontarf, the Danes were defeated—Sigurd being slain—and the
Celtic dynasty was restored. Sigurd’s territories were divided amongst
two sons by a former marriage, and an infant son, Thurfinn, by Malcolm’s
daughter; to the last was assigned the earldom of Caithness. In 1018—
taking advantage of the distracted state of England in this, the first
year of Canute’s reign—Malcolm invaded upper Northumbria; by a victory
at Carham, near Coldstream on the Tweed, the Lothians were brought more
under his rule. But after Canute’s return from his pilgrimage to Rome,
he invaded Scotland, and received the submission of Malcolm and two
under-kings, Mælbæthe and Jehmarc.

Malcolm II. was succeeded by his grandson Duncan,—a daughter’s son by a
secular abbot of Dunkeld. Duncan’s right was disputed by his cousin
Thurfirm, who was now Earl of Orkney. Duncan went north to check the
advance of his kinsman, and was defeated near the Pentland Firth. But an
invasion of Danes under King Sweyn on the coast of Fife, and which was
probably made in aid of Thurfirm, was defeated by Macbeth, an able
general of Duncan’s, and who, it is said, was also a grandson of
Malcolm’s, by another daughter. Duncan was _probably_—as in
Shakespeare’s great drama—killed by Macbeth. Certainly, to the exclusion
of Duncan’s two sons, Malcolm and Donaldbane, Macbeth seized the crown.
He reigned seventeen years—1040 to 1057—being contemporary with the
Confessor,—a glowing description of whom, posing as a saint with
miraculous powers of healing, occurs in Shakespeare’s play. When, on the
return of Earl Godwin from exile, there was a general exodus of the
Normans, whom Edward had placed in high positions, many of them went to
Scotland, and were well received by Macbeth. He appears historically, in
spite of our great poet’s portraiture of him, to have been an able
monarch; and he might be said to represent Celtic supremacy in Scotland,
as against the tendency to subvert it by Anglo-Saxon alliances. Duncan
had married the daughter of Siward, Earl of Northumbria, and Macbeth had
to resist the attacks of Siward on behalf of his grandson Malcolm.
Malcolm spent his boyhood in Cumbria, and his youth at the court of the
Confessor. He appealed to Edward for help to gain his father’s throne,
and by an English army under Siward, and Macduff, the powerful Thane of
Fife, and Tostig, the son of Earl Godwin, Macbeth was overthrown and

Malcolm III., named Canmore—“big-head”—reigned thirty-five years, 1058
to 1093. The Norman victory at Hastings brought to the Scottish court,
then at Dunfermline, a number of English refugees—these were a leaven of
higher culture and refinement amongst the rude thanes and chieftains,
and tended to further the advance of civilization, of letters and the
arts of life, throughout the northern kingdom. And numbers of Normans
also came and took service under Malcolm—and thus it came about that not
only in England, but in Scotland also, most of the noble families have
in them a strain of Norman blood.

Amongst the refugees were Edgar Atheling and his sisters, grand-children
of Edmund Ironside. Malcolm married Margaret, the eldest sister; she was
a noble woman, learned, pious, and charitable, doted upon by her
husband, and ever influencing his fierce nature for good. Thus connected
by birth with the heir of the old race of English Kings, Malcolm invaded
Northumberland on behalf of Edgar; but William was too strong for him,
and in turn invaded Scotland. William marched as far north as Abernethy,
where he forced Malcolm to do him homage. William never really
subjugated Northumbria north of the Tyne, but built Newcastle as a
border fortress. After the death of William in 1087, Malcolm made other
invasions of Northumbria, and to consolidate the possession of Lothian,
he removed the seat of government to Edinburgh. In 1093, he made a
desperate attempt to gain the counties of Northumberland and Cumberland;
but, whilst besieging the border fortress of Alnwick, he was attacked,
defeated, and killed by a Norman army.

The marriage of Henry, the youngest son of the Conqueror, with Matilda,
daughter of Malcolm, and niece of Edgar Atheling, united the Norman and
the older English royal lines. Henry’s son William was, in 1120, drowned
in “The White Ship,” and his only other child, Maud, was thus the
rightful heir to the throne. But the proud Norman barons had not been
used to female rule; so, after Henry’s death, in 1135, Stephen, a son of
the Conqueror’s daughter Adela, was made King.

David I., youngest son of Malcolm Canmore, succeeding his two elder
brothers, was at this time King of Scotland, and he took up the cause of
his niece Maud. In 1138 he invaded Northumberland, penetrating into
Yorkshire. At Northallerton he was met and defeated in a battle called
“Of the Standard.” It is said that he was gaining the day, when an
English soldier cut off the head of one of the slain, placed it on a
spear, and called out that it was the head of the King of Scots, thus
causing a panic in the Scottish army which the King, riding amongst it
without his helmet, vainly tried to overcome. After peace, David was
allowed to retain Northumberland and Durham, excepting the fortresses of
Newcastle and Bamborough. He was so good a king that after his death, in
1153, he was canonised.

David was succeeded by his twelve years old grandson, Malcolm. He was,
from his gentle disposition, called _The Maiden_. He was greatly
attached to the English King, Henry II., accompanying him to France as a
volunteer in his army. Malcolm’s Scottish subjects were afraid of the
influence of the older sovereign. Homage rendered by the Scottish kings
for their possessions in England, was always liable to be construed into
national homage; and it was notified that Malcolm had gone beyond mere
homage, and had absolutely resigned these possessions. So Malcolm had a
strong message from Scotland, asking him to return; this he did, was
again in favour with his people, but died in 1165, being then only
twenty-four years old.

He was succeeded by his brother William. He was called _The Lion_
because he used as his armorial bearing a red lion—_rampant_—that is in
heraldry, standing upon its hind legs; and this has ever since been the
heraldric cognizance of Scottish royalty. In 1174, for the recovery of
his ancestral possessions in Northumberland, William invaded England.
One day riding in a mist with a slender retinue, he came upon a body of
four hundred English horse. At first he thought that this was a portion
of his own army; seeing his mistake he fought boldly, but was
overpowered and made prisoner. He was taken to Northampton and conducted
into King Henry’s presence, with his feet tied together under his
horse’s belly. Now Henry had just been to Canterbury doing penance at
the tomb of the murdered Thomas à Becket; he had walked barefoot through
the city, prostrated himself on the pavement before the shrine, passed
the whole night in the church, and in the morning had himself scourged
by the priests with knotted cords. And now, as a token that his penance
had reconciled him to heaven, and obtained the saint’s forgiveness, here
was his enemy, the King of Scots, delivered into his hands.

Henry shewed no generosity towards his captive. He demanded to have
homage paid him as Lord Paramount of Scotland. In his prison, first at
Richmond, and then at Falaise in Normandy, William’s spirit was so far
broken that he acceded to Henry’s demands, and the Scottish parliament,
to obtain the release of their king, ratified a dishonourable treaty. At
York the required homage was publicly paid; and for fifteen years it
continued in full force. But in 1189, Henry’s son, Richard, the Lion-
hearted, on the eve of his crusade to the Holy Land,—desirous to place
his home affairs in safety during his absence, renounced the claim of
general homage extorted from William,—reserving only such homage as was
anciently rendered by Malcolm Canmore.

And in almost unbroken peace between the two countries for upwards of a
century, the generous conduct of Richard bore good fruit. Then a course
of accidents, which nearly extinguished the Scottish royal family, gave
an English monarch the opportunity for reviving old pretensions to
supremacy, and was thus the cause of renewed wars and national

William died in 1214, and was succeeded by his son, Alexander III. He
reigned thirty-five years, and being of good parts, and with
considerable force of character, did much for the progress of Scotland
in the arts of civilization. He was succeeded in 1249 by his son,
Alexander III., then only eight years of age. He married the daughter of
Henry III., but the children of the marriage died young. The chief
trouble of his reign was from Norwegian invasions, but in 1263 Alexander
defeated Haco, King of Norway, at Largs, at the mouth of the Firth of
Clyde. By this victory Scotland obtained possession of the Hebrides and
the Isle of Man. Alexander was accidentally killed in 1263; riding too
near the edge of a cliff on the Fifeshire coast, near Kinghorn, in the
dusk of the evening, his horse stumbled and threw him over the cliff.


                   How Scotland became a Free Nation.

We are not attempting to present a detailed history of Scotland: such a
history has both a general and a national value, and there has been no
lack of writers of ability to give to it their best of thought and of
research. But as having been a supreme crisis in this history, and as
having placed Scotland high on the list of free nations, we give a brief
summary of events at the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the
fourteenth century.

The English King, Edward the First, who has been called the greatest of
the Plantagenets, was led to undertake the conquest of Scotland. He
found that insurgent spirits amongst his own subjects therein found
refuge, and that France—the natural enemy of England—was generally in
alliance with Scotland. His designs on Scotland had three separate
phases. First: King Alexander the Third of Scotland having died without
immediate issue, the crown devolved upon his grand-daughter, Margaret,
daughter of Eric, King of Norway. The young princess is called in
history the Maid of Norway. Edward proposed a marriage between her and
his own eldest son, also named Edward. A treaty for this marriage was
entered into. It was one of the might-have-beens of history; had it
taken place, and been fruitful, the union of the crowns might have been
anticipated by over three centuries, and the after-histories of the two
countries very different. But on her voyage to take possession of her
crown, Margaret sickened; she landed at Orkney, and there died,
September, 1290.

Then there were various claimants to the crown, the rights of the
claimants dating back several generations. All having their partizans,
and anarchy and conflict appearing imminent, it was agreed that Edward
should be arbitrator. He here saw an opening for the revival of what
might now have been thought the obsolete claim of the English sovereign
to be recognised as Lord Paramount of Scotland. Two of the candidates,
Robert Bruce, Lord of Annandale, and John Baliol, Lord of Galloway, were
found to be nearer in blood to the throne than all the others. Both of
them traced their descent from daughters of David, Earl of Huntingdon,
brother of King William, called _The Lion_. Edward gave his decision in
favour of Baliol, as being descended from the elder daughter; but he
declared that the crown was to be held under him as feudal superior; and
Baliol did homage to Edward as to his lord sovereign, and was summoned
as a peer to the English Parliament.

[Illustration: EDWARD I.]

Edward soon shewed that his claim was not to be a merely formal one; he
demanded the surrender of three important Scottish fortresses. Baliol
would himself have submitted to this arrogant demand, but at the
instigation of the nobles he sent a refusal, and a formal renunciation
of his vassalage. In a war which in 1294 broke out between France and
England, Scotland allied itself with France. Then Edward assembled a
powerful army and invaded Scotland. He gained a victory near Dunbar, and
made a triumphant march through the Lowlands. The country was divided
within itself; the powerful Bruce faction was arrayed against that of
Baliol. Baliol made a cringing submission to Edward; and Bruce sued for
the nominal throne, as tributary sovereign of Scotland. “Think’st thou I
am to conquer a kingdom for thee?” was Edward’s stern reply; and he
forthwith took measures to make evident his purpose of keeping Scotland
to himself. He appointed an English nobleman his viceroy, garrisoned the
fortresses with English troops, and removed to London the regalia and
the official records of the Kingdom, and also the legendary stone upon
which the Scottish Kings had sat on their coronation. It was the very
nadir in the cycle of Scottish history.

Then came revolts, with varied measures of success. A notable hero, Sir
William Wallace, whose name yet lives in Scottish hearts as the very
incarnation of patriotism and courage, took the leadership in an all but
successful insurrection. But the larger, better appointed, and better
disciplined armies of Edward again placed Scotland under his iron heel.
Brave Wallace was, through treachery, taken prisoner, carried up to
London, and tried for treason at Westminster Hall. “I never could be a
traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject,” was Wallace’s defence:
the English judges condemned him to a traitor’s death. With the
indignities customary in these semi-barbarous times, he was executed on
Tower Hill, 23rd August, 1305.

Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, a grandson of the Bruce who was Baliol’s
rival for the Crown, had been one of Wallace’s ablest lieutenants. He
had a fine person, was brave and strong, was moreover prudent and
skilful, fitted to be a leader of men, both in the council and on the
battle-field. He had the faults of his times—could be passionate, and in
his passion cruel and relentless. He now aimed at the sovereignty, and
within a year of the death of Wallace, had himself, with a miniature
court and slender following, crowned King at Scone. When Edward heard of
this he was exceedingly wroth, and would himself again go into Scotland
and stamp out all the embers of rebellion. In 1307, he did accompany an
army through Cumberland, to within three miles of the Scottish border.
But ruthless and determined in spirit, he was now old and feeble in
body, and

                 “Hate and fury ill-supplied
                 The stream of life’s exhausted tide.”

He was stricken by mortal sickness and died, 6th July, 1307. Before he
died he made his son promise to carry his unburied corpse with the army
until Scotland was again fully conquered. The Second Edward did not
carry out that savage injunction, but had his father buried in
Westminster Abbey, where his tomb styles him, with greater truth than is
found in many monumental inscriptions, “The hammer of Scotland.”

For years Bruce was little other than a guerilla chief, sometimes even a
fugitive, hiding in highland fastnesses, or in the Western Isles. He was
under the pope’s excommunication, for that in a quarrel within the walls
of a consecrated church in Dumfries he had slain Sir John Comyn, who had
also certain hereditary claims to the throne. But he was possessed of
wonderful perseverance. Edward II. had, by the withdrawal of his
father’s great army of invasion, encouraged the Scottish hopes of
independence. In different parts of the country there were partial
insurrections against English rule and English garrisons. In March,
1313, by a sudden _coup_, Edinburgh Castle was taken. Gradually the
greater number of the Scottish nobles, with their retainers, declared
for Bruce. By the early spring of 1314, all the important towns except
Stirling had passed out of English possession; and it was to be given up
unless relieved before midsummer.

Such a state of things would not have come about in the days of the
elder Edward, before he would have been with an army in Scotland, to
drive back the tide of insurrection. Now, instigated by his counsellors
to save Stirling, Edward the Second assembled one of the largest armies
which had ever been under the command of an English King. One hundred
thousand men are said to have crossed the Scottish border, the flower of
English chivalry—the best trained archers in the world—soldiers from
France, Welsh and Irish, a mighty host. Bruce with all his efforts could
not bring into the field more than one disciplined soldier for every
three such in the enemy’s ranks; but there were many loose camp-
followers, half-armed and undisciplined, who, if their only aim was
plunder, could yet harass and cut off stragglers of an army on the
march. Bruce himself was a consummate general, possessing the entire
confidence of his men; he had the choice of his ground, and he had as
lieutenants his brave brother Edward, his nephew Randolph, and his
faithful follower Lord James Douglas, all commanding men with whom they
had in previous hard fights stood shoulder to shoulder and achieved

On the afternoon of the 23rd of June, 1314, the mighty English host
rolled on in splendid order, towards the plain near Stirling, where
Bruce, taking every advantage of the ground, had posted his army. In the
evening there were a few skirmishes, and the Bruce had a personal
encounter with, and slew an English knight, De Bohun. Such an act—if it
could have been honourably avoided—was not generalship, but in those
days personal prowess in the field was an essential for leadership.

On the next morning, before daybreak, the battle began, it is named “of
Bannockburn,” from a small stream, the Bannock, on the right of Bruce’s
position. We have no need to say that, despite of numbers and discipline
being on the side of the English, and courage a common quality in both
armies, it was a decisive Scottish victory. The causes of this result
are not far to seek; Bruce was the better general, and he had a position
from which he could bring a superior force to bear upon any single point
of attack. The course of the English cavalry lay through morass and
broken ground; and by pitfalls and barriers, Bruce had made this ground
more difficult and dangerous. He closed at the earliest possible moment
with those terrible foes at a distance—the English archers; his object
was to throw the enemy into confusion at some one point, knowing how
such confusion spreads itself. The very numbers of the English told
against their united action—more than the half of them were never
actually engaged in the fight. And when some early advantages showed in
favour of the Scots, their motley crowd of camp followers thought that
victory was assured, and, eager for plunder and revenge, they burst down
the slopes with wild shouts and gesticulations. And thus a partial
confusion in the English ranks became a general panic, a rout, and a
“save-himself-who-can” flight from the field. With the Douglas in hot
pursuit, Edward rode across the country to Dunbar, where he found a
small vessel by which he sailed to England.

And thus—by one day’s devoted patriotism, by steady valour and skilful
generalship, as Scottish historians say,—by hap-hazard, stratagem, and
surprise, as others have alleged, Robert Bruce secured his crown, and
could now really be called _Rex Scotorum_, King of Scots. And Scotland
itself rose, by that day’s event, from the dust of conquest and
depression into a free and independent state, to be governed by its own
laws and ruled by its own princes. There have been since that day some
disastrous Scottish defeats by English arms, and Scotland has often felt
itself in the shadow of a superior power; but the halo of Bannockburn
has never been obscured. It was not only a glorious day for Scotland,
but an auspicious one for England also; the Scottish people could, after
a preliminary union of the two crowns in a sovereign common to both
countries, frankly, and on equal terms, join with England in a national
union; together, hand in hand, going down the stream of history; in weal
and in woe standing by and aiding each other.


        Scotland in the Two Hundred Years following Bannockburn.

Never in all its previous history had Scotland been so united within
itself, or held so important a place amongst other nations, as during
the reign of Robert Bruce.

In what are called the dark ages of Europe, feudalism was a general
institution amongst the western nations. The Conqueror introduced this
phase of society into England; and it soon thereafter spread into
Scotland, where clanship had been its forerunner. Under the feudal
system, the King was chief; the land of the nation was nominally his, to
bestow in large estates on the nobles and great barons; these became his
vassals, under tenure obligations to do him homage, to take part, with
their retainers, in his wars, and to attend and take part in the Great
Councils which he summoned. The lesser barons, or fief-holders met in
their districts or shires, and chose from amongst themselves deputies or
representatives. And the Great Council contained besides,
representatives of the clergy, and of the chartered boroughs. In England
the national Council was divided into two separate houses, namely, that
of Peers, where the members sat by personal right, and that of Commons,
who were members by representation. In Scotland there was a single
house: nobles and prelates, representatives of shires, and delegates
from boroughs, all sat together, took a common share in the debates, and
all votes were of equal account. Acts were made into law, and powers
were granted for raising money, by the bills passed in Parliament, being
assented to by the sovereign. The form of assent was touching the bills
with the sceptre.

And the old Scottish statute book is replete with wise, well-considered
laws. But from the powers assumed by the nobles, each virtually claiming
absolute authority within his own domains, the administration was
woefully defective. The nobles were, moreover, often engaged in deadly
feuds against each other; perpetuating family quarrels through
generations, and at times powerful houses would coalesce against
sovereignty itself.

In the English quarrels which arose, a Scottish army would be composed
of brave and hardy fighting men, trained to arms, and devoted to their
immediate leaders. But the leaders were jealous of, and many of them
inimical to each other; so could not act in concert, and a battle under
such circumstances would be a disaster and a disgrace. A great
personality, like that of Robert the Bruce, could over-master the
discordant elements, and make his own authority paramount; but amongst
his successors there were several weak monarchs, unable to beat down
personal rancour and ambition in the council and in the camp. And one
great curse to Scotland in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth
centuries, was the comparatively large number of regencies, from the
under ages of monarchs at their accession to the throne,—thus creating
jealousy, rivalry, and partizanship amongst the more powerful nobles.

The burghs had risen in population and importance, generally clustering
round the larger religious houses. Men not connected with the land
either as proprietors or retainers, congregated together for mutual
trade and mutual protection. The sovereigns encouraged this growth, as
affording a readier means of raising revenue, and as an equipoise to the
power of the nobles; granting the towns chartered privileges, which
constituted them royal burghs. The citizens elected their municipal
Council; the chief magistrate was styled Provost, the others Bailies.
Many burghs were defended by walling, and the citizens were trained to
arms; they had to defend the burgh, and, in levies, to help the King in
his wars.

In the midland shires law and order obtained generally, but in the
Highlands and their adjacent islands, and in the frontier shires, there
was, as a rule, lawlessness and disorder. The halo of romance, largely
kindled by the genius of Sir Walter Scott, hovers round the Scottish
Highlands. The

                 “Land of green heath and shaggy wood,
                 Land of the mountain and the flood”

bred a stalwart race of brave men, with persistent loyalty in their
hearts to their clanship, and to the hills and glens which were to them
their fatherland; but they long continued in semi-barbarism, separated
by race and language from the comparatively civilized Lowlands, with
little of national patriotism, and a great distrust of the—to them
distant—sovereignty of Holyrood. They often, as did their forefathers in
the time of the Romans, a thousand years previously, made plundering
incursions into the Lowlands; but they had continual clan-quarrels
amongst themselves, which helped to keep them in their native wilds, and
the government would foment these quarrels, and even, to their mutual
destruction, employ one clan against another. So late as the reign of
James IV. an Act of Parliament, for the better government of the
Highlands and Islands, states that for want of justices and sheriffs,
these districts had become almost savage.

And the border counties—on both sides of the hardly defined line of
demarcation—were also in an unsettled state. They, too, had their family
clanships, their hereditary feuds, their predatory raids. There was a
sort of debatable land of moor, forest, and morass, where neither
national nor forest-law was paramount. On both sides Wardens of the
marches were appointed, with a mutual understanding to prevent border-
raiding. But the Wardens themselves were generally heads of the great
neighbouring families, and they often broke their own laws, by
sheltering or encouraging offenders. Altogether the picture which we
gather from the history of Scotland in the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries is not a pleasant one to dwell upon.

But there were rifts in the cloud. The first James, 1406 to 1437, has
left a noble record as a man of knightly nature, a fine poet, and a wise
ruler. When eleven years of age, he was put by his father, Robert III.,
on board of a vessel to sail to France, to save him from his uncle, the
Duke of Albany, who had caused the death by starvation of his elder
brother. The vessel was captured by the English, and the young prince
was for eighteen years a prisoner. But he was well educated, and seems
to have had great freedom of movement—even taking part in the French
wars. He married Joan Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of Somerset, and
nearly related to the royal family of England. In 1424, a ransom was
negotiated; James was set at liberty, and he and his queen were crowned
at Scone. Under him many wise laws were enacted for the proper
administration of justice, and for the fostering of home trade and
foreign commerce. His great task was in curtailing the powers assumed by
the nobles. This made him enemies, and cost him his life. Temporarily
occupying a house in Perth, a band of miscreants under Sir Robert
Graham, who had recently been punished by the King for law-breaking,
burst at night into the King’s chamber, and in his wife’s presence
savagely slew him. The Queen took wild vengeance on the murderers.


                     The Older Scottish Literature.

Perhaps in no part of Scotland was there—even in the fourteenth century—
pure Anglo-Saxon blood. The Lothians and the south-eastern shires had
been a portion of the old kingdom of Northumbria, in which, with the
Angles as a normal population, there had been large Danish settlements;
and numbers of Normans also settled therein, both before and after the
Conquest; whilst the descendants of the old Britons had peopled the
south-western shires, from the Solway to the Clyde. Thus whilst the
generally spoken language of the two countries was essentially the same,
the literature of England would be more purely Teutonic; that of
Scotland would include Celtic elements; but these elements would assert
themselves more in qualifying the style of the literature than in the
use of Celtic words.

Thus, Scottish poetry generally shows a passionate love of Nature; its
picturesque descriptions and vivid colourings reaching or bordering upon
exaggeration. Its humour is broad, and of coarsish fibre. And then the
sentiment of patriotism has ever been more pronounced in Scotland than
in England. As a rule, English Nationalism was, after the Norman
Conquest, even in the most disastrous times, safe and self-assertive. On
the other hand, Scottish Nationalism was at one period, for a time,
entirely lost; it was often in extreme danger, and was saved only by
extreme efforts,—as we might say, “by the skin of the teeth.” Can we
wonder then that fervid patriotism pervades,—becomes obtrusive even, in
Scottish literature; and that this literature almost deifies the
National heroes?

Thus, amongst the earlier efforts in Scottish poetry replete with this
glowing patriotism, we have Archbishop Barbour’s poem, _The Bruce_;
Blind Harry’s _History of Sir William Wallace_; and Andrew of Wyntoun’s
_Chronykil of Scotland_. We mentioned as a poet James I., he wrote _The
Kings Quhair_ (_i.e._, book); it is in Chaucer’s seven-line stanza, and
contains the best poetry published in Great Britain, between that of
Chaucer and the Elizabethan period. From a full heart he tells the story
of his love; a love which brightened his life, and shone true at his
death, when his queen did her best to save him from the daggers of the
conspirators. The King,—whilst a prisoner in Windsor Castle,—saw from
his window his future queen, walking in an adjacent garden.

                   “Cast I down mine eyes again,
             Where as I saw, walking under the tower,
             Full secretly, now comen here to plain.
             The fairest, or the freshest younge flower
             That ever I saw, methought, before that hour,
             For which, sudden abate—anon astart—
             The blood of all my body to my heart.

             “And in my head I drew right hastily
             And eftesoons I leant it out again,
             And saw her walk that very womanly,
             With no wight mo’, but only women twain,
             Then gan I study to myself, and sayn,—
             ‘Ah, sweet! are ye a worldly creature,
             Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature?

             “‘Or, are ye god Cupidis own princess
             And comin are to loose me out of hand?
             Or, are ye very Nature the goddess,
             That have depainted with your heavenly hand
             This garden full of flowers as they stand?
             What shall I think, alas! what reverence
             Shall I outpour unto your excellence?’”

Another king, James Fifth of the name, was also a poet; he may be called
the originator of that satirical humour in verse which afterwards
characterized so many Scottish poets, including Robert Burns, the
greatest of them all.

[Illustration: WILLIAM DRUMMOND.]

After the union of the crowns, and the removal of the Scottish Court to
London, in 1603, the old language came to be considered a provincial
dialect. William Drummond, of Hawthornden (1585-1649), was the first
notable Scottish poet who wrote well in modern English. He was imbued
with true literary taste and feeling, and he ranks, as do subsequent
Scottish writers, amongst British authors.

The Lowland folk-speech has really changed less from the Old English
than the tongue of any other portion of the island; its glossary is very
largely a key to Chaucer and Spenser, to Barbour and Andrew Wyntoun. As
might have been expected, the folk-speech which is nearest to the
English of modern literature is that of the more remote Highlands, as of
Inverness and its surroundings. Where the old Gaelic has succumbed to
book-learned English, there was no intermediate stage of the older

That the Scottish tongue is a fitting vehicle for pathos as well as for
humour, scores of fine old songs are in evidence. Allan Ramsay’s _Gentle
Shepherd_, a pastoral drama of the loves and lives of the Scottish
peasantry in the beginning of the last century, is the best lengthy
example we have of every-day folk-speech. Burns never hesitated, when it
seemed to better suit his verse or his meaning, to introduce modern
English words; Ramsay rarely does this. With Burns the Scottish dialect
as the expression of high-class poetry, might well have ended; but it
yet lingers on, chiefly in humorous songs and descriptions.


              The Reformation in England and in Scotland.

In the progress of civilization, the middle of the sixteenth century may
be taken as the turning point between the old past, with its feudalism,
its authoritative church, its restricted culture, its antiquated
science,—and the newer order of things from which has sprung the ever-
expanding present. Since Guttenberg first used moveable types, a century
had so far perfected his invention that books were becoming plentiful;
and the one which is morally and socially, as well as religiously, the
chief book in the world, had been translated into the mother-tongue of
England. Towns were asserting their chartered privileges. The telescope
was ransacking the heavens, and, for the first time, Magellan had
circumnavigated the globe. Cannon were used in warfare, and iron had
been smelted in England. The newspaper had been born; and Law was
gradually gaining the ascendancy over disorder and old prerogative.

The Reformation of religion had established itself in Central and
Northern Europe, and was now fighting its way in England and Scotland.
But the battle with Papal authority and its dogmatic creeds was begun
under very different circumstances, was carried on by very different
methods, and had very different results in the two neighbouring

How did the English Reformation come about? During nearly forty years in
the first half of the sixteenth century (1509 to 1547) England was ruled
by the last of her really despotic kings, Henry VIII. As everybody
knows, Henry had a peculiar domestic experience,—he married in
succession six wives. As fresh fancies took him, he rid himself of four
of these—two by divorce, and two by the headsman’s axe. One wife, Jane
Seymour, died in childbirth of his only son, who succeeded him as Edward
VI. Wife No. 6, by her extraordinary prudence contrived to escape
destruction, and survived the kingly monster. _This_ is a harsh term for
the historical father of the English church, and some modern historians
of ability and repute have done their best—as has been done in the cases
of Macbeth and Richard III., as these kings are portrayed by
Shakespeare—to partially whitewash Henry. That he was, in common
parlance, a great king, and a man of ability, of energy and decision,
and that under him England prospered, and held an advanced position
amongst the nations, few will dispute; but that he was a cruel, lustful,
selfish tyrant seems equally undeniable. He made use of men and women as
subservient to his will or his pleasure, and when his ends were so
served, he ruthlessly destroyed them. His great minister, Wolsey, would
not bend to his wishes in the matter of divorcing his first wife, so
Wolsey was degraded, and in his old age sent into seclusion, to die of a
broken heart. And in succession Thomas Cromwell, Sir Thomas More, and
the Earl of Surrey, suffered the fate of Anne Boleyn and Catherine

Henry, when a young man, opposed the Reformation. He wrote a book
against Luther and his heresies, which so pleased the Pope that he
granted Henry the title of _Defender of the Faith_. This papal title has
passed down by inheritance through all succeeding English sovereigns;
every coin from the mintage of Queen Victoria bears its initial letters.

Henry first married, under the Pope’s dispensation, the widow of his
elder brother Arthur, Catherine of Arragon, by whom he had a daughter,
afterwards Queen Mary. But the King fell in love—if, in the passions of
such a man, the noble word _love_ can be rightly used—with Anne Boleyn,
one of Catherine’s lady attendants. To gain Anne, Henry, after a number
of years of wedded life with Catherine, all at once became conscience-
stricken that his marriage with her was an unlawful one; and he asked
the Pope to recall his dispensation and annul the marriage. Now,
Catherine was sister to the Emperor of Germany, Charles the Fifth, one
of the Pope’s best supporters in these sad Reformation times. And,
moreover, to have rescinded the dispensation would have been an
admission of papal fallibility; so the Pope gave Henry a refusal.

Henry threw off his allegiance to the Pope, and had himself acknowledged
by Parliament as the supreme head of the English Church. Powerful,
unscrupulous, and popular, he confiscated church revenues, broke up
monasteries, and by Act of Parliament, in 1537, completed politically
the English Reformation. It was, so far as the King was concerned, a
reformation only in name, for as to liberty of conscience, and the right
of private judgment, he was as arrogant a bigot as any pope who ever
wore the tiara. He vacillated in his own opinions, but enforced those he
held at the time by such severe enactments, that many persons of both
religions were burned as heretics.

And from the Anglican Church, so founded on despotism and intolerance,
can we wonder that the shadow of Rome has never been thoroughly lifted?
In the abstract it is essentially a close corporation of ecclesiastics,
the mere people hardly counting as a necessary factor. Its sacraments
have still miraculous or supernatural properties attached to them; no
one must officiate therein who has not been _ordained_, and the assumed
powers of ordination came through the Romish Church. From the older
Church it adopted certain creeds, as dogmatic in their assertions, and
intolerant in their fulminations, as were ever Papal Bulls or Decrees of
Councils. Of course the mellowing influence of time, the broadening
thoughts of later years, and the rivalship of Nonconformity, have done
much to take out old stings and deaden old intolerance; whilst a cloud
of witnesses for righteousness and progress in the Church itself, have
raised it above its old self, and brought it in nearer touch with the
spirit of the present age.

                  *       *       *       *       *

The history of the Scottish Reformation is an entirely different one.
Instead of being originated and fostered by State authority, it was a
fierce and obstinate battle with such authority. Scotland was then under
one of its disastrous regencies, that of Mary of Guise, the widow of
King James V., acting for her infant daughter Mary, known afterwards in
history as the beautiful and unfortunate Queen of Scots. The Reformation
in England had sent a wave of agitation into Scotland, and this wave
advanced strongly as refugees from the cruel persecutions of Mary Tudor
flocked into the Northern Kingdom; and as the Regent, with her
coadjutor, the bigoted and relentless Cardinal Beaton, also began to
persecute the new faith, and send its adherents to the stake; for it has
ever been found to be a true saying, “The blood of the martyrs is the
seed of the Church.” In revenge for the burning, in 1545, of one of the
saintliest of men, George Wishart, a party of the Reformers murdered the
Cardinal in his own castle of St. Andrews, from one of the windows of
which he had gloated over the martyr’s cruel death.

In 1557, a number of the Reformers, including several noblemen, and
styling themselves the Lords of the Congregation, entered into a mutual
bond or covenant, “To defend the whole congregation of Christ against
Satan and all his powers; to have prayers made and the sacraments
administered in the vulgar tongue; in worship to use only the Bible, and
the Prayer-book of Edward VI.” In 1559, the Regent, who was entirely
under French influence, and had been gradually filling high offices with
Frenchmen, and accumulating French troops, issued a proclamation,
forbidding any one to preach or administer the sacraments without the
authority of the bishops.

And at this period a sterling man fitted to be a leader in such
turbulent times, John Knox, appears in the forefront of the conflict. He
had been college-bred, and became a priest, but adopted the Reformation
in its Calvinistic phase, and, as he had opportunity, disseminated the
new tenets with eloquence and zeal. After Beaton’s death, his slayers,
with others, and Knox amongst these, held out the castle of St. Andrews
for fourteen months, but had to yield at last to their French besiegers,
and were sent prisoners to France. Knox had to work in the galleys on
the river Loire. But again he is in Scotland, preaching from place to
place. After a powerful sermon against idolatry in a church in Perth, a
priest began to celebrate mass. Heated by the glowing words of Knox, the
people broke the images in the church. The Regent was very wroth, she
deposed the Protestant provost of the city, and threatened it with
French troops. The Congregation raised troops and appealed to Elizabeth,
now on the English throne, for aid. Elizabeth sent some troops, and
there was fighting with varied successes, until, by a treaty made in
Edinburgh, the French agreed to abandon Scotland, and the Protestants
were to be allowed the free exercise of their religion. In the Scottish
Parliament of 1560 there was a solemn abjuration of the Pope and the
mass. And the Geneva Confession of Faith was constituted the theological
standard of the kingdom.

[Illustration: JOHN KNOX.]

Differing from the English Church with its orders, its episcopacy, and
its sovereign headship, the Scottish Reformers denied the authority of
the sovereign, or secular government, to interfere in the affairs of the
Church; determining that these affairs should be under the direction of
a Court of Delegates, the greater number being chosen from the
ministers, all of whom were of the same standing and dignity, and the
remainder—with equal authority in the deliberations—of a certain number
of the laity, called Elders, thus forming what is called “The General
Assembly of the Church.” The sacraments were to be simple observances,
spiritual only as they were spiritually received. Church edifices were
regarded as merely stone and lime structures, having no claims to
special regard, except during divine service. So to these Reformers,
defacing in the churches what had been considered sacred statuary and
ornamentation, even to the sign of the cross, was deemed a ready mode of
testifying against Popish superstitions. As to the abbeys and
monasteries—“Pull down the nests,” said stern John Knox, “and the rooks
will fly away.”

Thus the Kirk of Scotland was essentially democratic in its origin, and,
although always rigid and often intolerant, it has in the main so
continued. Its theological tenets, although wordy and abstruse, were a
whetstone to the intellect, and helped to develope a serious and
thoughtful, a reading, and an argumentative people. Shepherds meeting
each other on the hillsides, weavers with their yarn at the village
beetling-stone, would, like Milton’s angels:—

                                    “Reason high
            Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate,
            Fixed fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute.”

The English Church, on the other hand, did not encourage doctrinal
discussion, but simple faith in its articles, and obedience to its


[Illustration: JOHN KNOX’S HOUSE.]


But—which we would hardly have expected from its complex system of
faith, and its niceties in phraseology—the Presbyterian Kirk produced
zeal and earnest devotedness in the Scottish people. Without ordination
by a bishop, whose orders were presumed to have come in direct
succession from the Apostles, the ministers were held in high reverence
and esteem; without printed prayers its common members learned to pray.
It had its army of martyrs; except amongst Puritan Nonconformists, the
Scottish Covenanters have hardly their English representatives.

John Knox largely impressed the Reformed Church with his own
individuality. No doubt he was rigid, and, to our modern ideas, narrow-
minded and intolerant. He would not have accomplished the work he did if
he had not himself thoroughly believed in it, as the greatest work which
then needed to be done. He has been blamed for speaking harsh words to
Queen Mary; but he had to speak what he felt to be stern truths, for
which honied words could hardly fit themselves. Mary, accustomed to
fascinate the eyes and sway the wills of all who approached her,
demanded of Knox:—“Who are you who dare dictate to the sovereign and
nobles of this realm?” “I am, Madam,” answered Knox, “a subject of this
realm.” A subject, and therefore a co-partner in the realm; to the
fullest extent of his knowledge and his capabilities responsible for its
right government; just as the Hebrew prophets claimed a right to stand
before their kings, and, not always in smooth words, to denounce sin and
hypocrisy, oppression, and backslidings from the law of God.


  (_From the Scottish Antiquarian Museum._)

For supporting the introduction of bishops into the Presbyterian Church,
as impairing the republican equality of its ministers, Knox had bitterly
rebuked the Regent Morton. But when, in November, 1572, the Regent stood
by the grave of the Reformer, it was in a choking voice that he
pronounced the grand eulogium:—“There lies he, who never feared the face
of man.”

At the era of the Reformation no translation of the Scriptures had yet
been printed in Scotland; what copies in the vernacular had been brought
from England, were in the hands of the wealthy; indeed few of the common
people could then have read them. The parish school as yet was not. The
old church had not encouraged inquiry into the rationale of its dogmas,
and although theological discussion was in the air, it had not
penetrated into the lower strata of Scottish society. And thus the
popular outburst against the old church was hardly founded on conscience
and conviction; in its beginnings at least, it was more a revolution
against priestly domination.

[Illustration: GRAVE OF JOHN KNOX.]

But the cry of _idolatry_ was raised. In the destruction of images in
the churches, the leading reformers found the populace only too willing
agents. Even architectural ornamentation—without religious significance—
was removed or destroyed, the capitals of pillars were covered with
plaster, the very tombs were rifled and defaced. The parish church had
been the nucleus around which, for centuries, the veneration and the
spiritual thought of past times had revolved, and now the idea of its
“consecration” was to be banished from the popular mind. The reformers
encouraged male worshippers to enter churches with their hats on—
uncovering during prayer, psalm-singing, and scripture reading, and
resuming their hats when the minister gave out the text for his sermon.
When the discourse touched a popular chord, there was applause by
clapping of hands and stamping of feet. Rome had demanded unquestioning
submission to its authority,—an unreserved veneration for its ritual;
and in breaking away from this bondage, the spirit of reverence was
largely impaired.

Thus to other religionists, the form of worship in a Scottish church
appeared bald and careless, hardly decorous. There was no private prayer
on sitting down; in the public prayers, the stubborn presbyterian knee
did not bend,—all stood upright, and the eyes would roam all over the
church. In singing the psalms, there was no assistance from the swelling
tones of an organ; gloves were put on during the benediction, and all
were prepared for a hurried exit at its _Amen_. Funeral sermons, and
even tomb-stones, were proscribed by the early reformers. One in King
James’s English retinue, accompanying him in a visit to Scotland,
remarked,—“The Scots christen without the sign of the cross; they marry
without the ring; and bury without any funeral service.”

Although the old psalmist said,—“O sing unto the Lord a new song,”—the
Presbyterians did not seem to think that anything had occurred in the
following two thousand years, to incite to new songs of praise and
thanksgiving: so they continued to sing only the Hebrew psalms. It was
not until 1745 that the General Assembly authorized the use of
Paraphrases,—that is, metrical versions of other portions of Scripture,
but many congregations refused them. Now, there are authorized hymnals—
the organ is again finding its place in the churches—and other changes
have come about, bringing the form of service in nearer consonance with
that of other churches, and with the more ornate tendency of the present


                  The Rival Queens—Mary and Elizabeth.

Mary’s evil fortunes began with her birth. Her dying father, heart-
broken over a disastrous battle, lived only a week after his “poor
lass,” as he called her, was born. Then Henry VIII. of England saw in
this infant niece of his a means of uniting the two crowns, much in the
way by which a wolf unites itself with the lamb it devours, by having a
marriage contracted between her and his only son, Prince Edward. He sent
negotiators to enforce, under threats, his project. There was much
opposition amongst the Scottish nobility. It looked like surrendering
their country to England. They said to Henry’s negotiators, “If your lad
were a lass, and our lass were a lad, would you then be so earnest in
this matter; and could you be content that our lad should, by marrying
your lass, become King of England? No! your nation would never agree to
have a Scot for King; and we will not have an Englishman as our King.
And tho’ the whole nobility of the realm should consent thereto, yet the
common people would rebel against it; the very boys would hurl stones,
and the wives handle their distaffs against it.”

Henry was wroth exceedingly, threatened war, and demanded the custody of
the child-Queen. To have him for an ally against the Queen-Regent and
her minister, the persecutor Beaton, the Reformers temporized, and the
Scottish Parliament consented to the match; Mary to be sent to Henry
when she was ten years old.

In the meantime Henry got embroiled with France; and Scotland, under the
influence of the Queen-Regent, allied itself with that country. Henry
sent an army into Scotland. There were some Scottish successes; but at
Pinkie, in 1547, the English general Somerset gained a complete victory.
Before this event Henry had died; but his long cherished object, the
possession of the child of Scotland, was still pressed, and now seemed
on the point of attainment. But the Scottish people were irritated and
alarmed to such a degree that they resolved to make the projected
marriage impossible, by marrying their young mistress to the Dauphin of
France, and sending her to be brought up at the French court. To this
resolve Parliament gave a hasty assent; and in July 1548, the poor
child, now in her sixth year, accompanied by her four Maries—girls her
own age, of noble birth, her present play-fellows and future companions—
was shipped off to France.

Prince Edward, who succeeded Henry as Edward VI., was twelve years of
age when his father died, and he reigned only four years. Then there was
the painful incident of Lady Jane Grey being pushed forward by her
ambitious kindred as a claimant to the throne; the venture being death
to her and to them. And then Henry’s daughter by his first wife became
Queen. A rigid Catholic, she at once took steps, intolerant, relentless,
and cruel, to re-establish the old faith. The savage persecutions of her
reign have rendered it for ever infamous. She goes down through all time
as the _Bloody_ Mary. Smithfield blazed with the fires of martyrdom;
five Protestant bishops were amongst the sufferers. Happily her reign
was a brief one, lasting only five years; and they were for her years of
domestic misery, her marriage with the Spanish King, Philip II., being
an unhappy and unfruitful one.

Her half-sister Elizabeth, the issue of Henry’s marriage with Anne
Boleyn, succeeded to the throne in 1558. Elizabeth had been brought up
as a Protestant, had been kept a close prisoner during Mary’s reign,—
narrowly escaping being herself a martyr. And now to maintain her claims
to the throne, she had to depend upon her Protestant subjects; for the
Catholics denied the validity of her father and mother’s marriage, and
consequently denied her legitimacy and right to reign. They asserted
that Mary Stuart of Scotland was the rightful heir, and as such entitled
to their allegiance.

A brief explanation will show on what foundation the Stuart claim—
afterwards allowed at the death of Elizabeth in favour of Mary’s son
James—was based. At Bosworth Field, Richard III., of the house of York,
was defeated and slain. The victor was Richmond of Lancaster, who thus
became King Henry VII.; his son was Henry VIII., and his daughter
Margaret married James IV., King of Scotland. The neighbouring Kings,
James and Henry VIII., were thus brothers-in-law; none the less did they
quarrel and go to war with each other, their hostilities ending, so far
as James was concerned, with the battle of Flodden. Henry was then
engaged in a war with France, and James was killed in the battle which
his vanity had provoked, and which he generalled so badly. His son,
James V., was Henry’s nephew, and full cousin to Henry’s children,
Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth. Thus, failing direct legitimate heirs to
the English throne, James’s daughter Mary was, in virtue of her descent
as the grand-daughter of Henry VII., the nearest heir.

At Elizabeth’s accession, in 1558, Mary was sixteen years of age. As the
wife of the Dauphin of France, the French monarchy put forward her
claims as the rightful sovereign of England, and even had a coinage
struck with her effigy thus designated. So Elizabeth feared and hated
Mary as her rival; hated her yet more, with a woman’s spite, for her
beauty and accomplishments. Soon Mary, by his early death, lost her
husband, then King of France, and at nineteen years of age, in the
splendour of her queenly beauty, she—regretfully for the land of her
youth—returned to her native Scotland.


  (_From a painting by Zucchero._)

By her sweet presence, her courtesy, and winning manners, Mary largely
gained the hearts of her people; but murmurings soon arose about her
foreign ways, her foreign favouritisms, and her fidelity to her Catholic
faith. And a cloud gathered over her domestic life. She had married a
young nobleman, Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley. He was next to Mary in the
hereditary line of succession to the English throne—as Mary was a grand-
daughter of Margaret Tudor he was a grandson—by Margaret’s second
marriage with the Earl of Angus. He was also a Catholic. Darnley seems
to have been little other than a handsome, but petulant, ill-behaved,
and ill-mannered boy, fitted, neither by intellect nor disposition, to
be the husband and life-companion of such a proud, clever, and
accomplished woman as Mary. Mary refused him the crown-matrimonial, and
they very soon fell apart. Mary was not forbidden to have her private
chapel; an Italian singer in this chapel, David Rizzio, became a
favourite, he acted as her secretary, and was admitted into the inner
circle of Holyrood. One evening the supper-party was broken in upon by
Darnley and a number of his associates, and Rizzio was dragged out to
the landing, and by several weapons barbarously stabbed to death. Mary’s
fair countenance and gentle voice were mated with an iron will,
persistent in carrying out her hatreds to the death. Darnley was
murdered by a rude villain, Earl Bothwell, and Mary has never been
satisfactorily cleared of complicity in the murder. Shortly afterwards
she married this Bothwell—by force, her apologists say.

We shall not even briefly go over the oft-told tale of Mary’s after-
life. As the incidents loom out of the tangled web, we feel, even
through the centuries, as if we would fain arrest them by a warning
voice, fain save that fascinating woman from her doom. We feel a
yearning pity, almost akin to love, although stern justice gives her
blame as a woman, a wife, and a Queen. That pitiful winter’s morning in
Fotheringay Castle, in 1587, brought to Mary, by the headsman’s axe, a
cruel death, but also a kind release from captivity and unrest.

And what of her rival queen and kinswoman, “that bright Occidental
star,” Elizabeth? A woman with a strong masculine intellect, of
dauntless courage, one fitted to rule and govern, and advance a nation.
But unmistakably her father’s daughter, cruel, heartless, unforgiving,
and thoroughly false: with a woman’s caprice exalting to supreme
favouritism to-day, and striking down into the dust to-morrow. She
signed Mary’s death-warrant, and, by grimaces and plainest hints, she
made her people slay her own cousin. And when the deed was irretrievably
done she went into a hypocritical paroxysm of well-acted anger and
regret, and dealt round punishment for the act which she herself had
compassed. These two women cited to the bar of judgment, Mary might well
hide her face for many sins and frailties; but the better actor would
try to stand up, boldly and unabashed. Our own hearts must answer which
of the two we justify, rather than the other.


                             Old Edinburgh.

               “Edina! Scotia’s darling seat!
                   All hail thy palaces and tow’rs,
               Where once beneath a monarch’s feet
                   Sat legislation’s sov’reign powers!

               There, watching high for war’s alarms,
                   Thy rough, rude fortress gleams afar;
               Like some bold vet’ran grey in arms,
                   And marked with many a seamy scar.”

So sang Burns, when “from marking wildflowers on the banks of Ayr,” he
“sheltered,” and was feted and petted in the “honoured shade” of the
capital of Scotland. And Sir Walter Scott, in describing Marmion’s
approach to the city on a summer’s morning, cannot, from a full proud
heart, refrain from introducing his own personality:—

                “Such dusky grandeur clothed the height
                Where the huge castle holds its state,
                    And all the steep slope down,
                Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky,
                Pil’d deep and massy, close and high—
                    Mine own romantic town!”

Doubtless, as a picturesque town, Edinburgh stands in the foremost rank.
The natural configuration of the ground in ridges and hollows, and the
commanding prospects from its heights of undulating landscape, of broad
Frith, of distant hills, and of the adjacent Arthur’s Seat, like a
couchant lion guarding the town, are striking, and stir up any poetic
feeling that may be lurking in the heart. In the architecture there is a
strange and incongruous mingling of the modern and the antique, of the
genuine and the meretricious. There are many interesting historical
memorials, and very many reminders of the everyday present. Buildings
and monuments bring cherished and illustrious names to our mind; other
names are obtruded which we would gladly forget. But no one can, from
the Castle bastions, see the panorama of the city and its surroundings,
without intense interest, and an admiration which will abide in the

In 647, Edwin, the son of Ella, Saxon King of Northumbria, extended his
conquests beyond the Forth. He re-fortified the rock-castle, called
Puellerum, and to the little town which rose up around it, was given the
name of Edwinsburgh. In 1128, Edinburgh was made a Royal burgh by David
I. In 1215, a Parliament of Alexander II. met here for the first time.
In 1296, the title of the chief magistrate was changed from Alderman to

In 1424, James I. was, at £40,000, ransomed from his long and unjust
imprisonment in England: the towns of Edinburgh, Aberdeen, Perth, and
Dundee, guaranteeing the ransom. James had, on his parole, been free to
move about England; and he soon saw how far behind her his own land was
in agriculture and commerce. To amend this he made laws, which to us
seem meddlesome and going into petty details, but doubtless were then
useful and progressive. For the prevention of fires in buildings it was
advisable to enact that “hempe, lint and straw be not put in houses
aboone or near fires,” and that “nae licht be fetched from ane house to
ane uther but within covered weshel or lanterne.” The lofty piles of
buildings for which the older town of Edinburgh is now remarkable, were
in the fifteenth century represented by wooden houses not exceeding two
stories in height; for we find that in providing against fires,
Parliament ordained that “at the common cost aucht twenty-fute ladders
be made, and kept in a ready place in the town, for that use and none
other.” From the murder of James I. in Perth, in 1456, Edinburgh dates
as the capital, and where Parliaments were exclusively held.

In 1496, in order to qualify the eldest sons of barons and freeholders
for exercising the functions of sheriffs (holding judicial powers in a
Scottish county) and ordinary justices, it was enacted that such be sent
to grammar schools, and there remain, “quhill they be competentlie
founded and have perfite Latin; and thereafter to remain three zeirs at
the schules of art and jure; so that they may have knowledge and
onderstanding of the laws.” The population of Edinburgh was then about

When, in 1503, Margaret, daughter of Henry VII., came to Scotland as the
bride of James IV., the King met her at Dalkeith, and the royal lovers
made their entry into Edinburgh, “the Kyng riding on a pallafroy, with
the princesse behind him, and so through the toun.” Ten years later
came, on the 10th September, the sad news of Flodden, fought on the
previous day; when the brave but fool-hardy King, and the flower of
Scottish manhood “were a’ wede away.” At first it was consternation and
the confusion of despair; but soon order and new energy prevailed. Under
pains of forfeiture of life and goods, all citizens capable of bearing
arms were convoked to form, with the stragglers from Flodden, a fresh
army: the older citizens were to defend the city. The women were, under
a threat of banishment, forbidden to cry and clamour in the streets; the
better sort were to go to church and pray for their country; and
thereafter to mind their business at home, and not encumber the streets.

In 1543, under the regency of the Earl of Arran, an Act was passed
permitting the scriptures to be read in the vulgar tongue, and the
Reformation ideas began to be bruited about. Twelve years later, statues
in St. Giles’ Church, of the Virgin and certain saints were destroyed;
but the then Regent, Mary of Guise, by threatenings, given strength to
by her French troops, contrived to keep down open revolt against the old
faith. But in 1558, on the festival day of St. Giles, the patron saint
of Edinburgh, and for which festival the priests and monks had made
great preparation, it was discovered that the image of the saint had
been taken from the church during the previous night, and thrown into
the North Loch. The priests got a smaller statue from the Greyfriars,
this the people called in derision “the bairn-saint.” The Queen-Regent
was in the procession. She must have been a woman of strong character;
in her presence all went smoothly, but having left, the populace tore
the little St. Giles to pieces, hustling and dispersing the priests.

From the death of the Queen-Regent, and the withdrawal of the French
troops in 1560, the Protestant cause was in the ascendancy. An Act was
passed denouncing Popery, and sanctioning the hastily compiled
Confession of Faith. Penalties on Catholic worship, very similar to
those under which Protestants had groaned, and which they had bitterly
denounced, were imposed. Any one celebrating mass or being present at
its celebration, was to be punished by forfeiture of goods for the first
offence, by banishment for the second, and by death for the third. Queen
Mary, then in France, and her husband Francis, who held from Mary the
crown-matrimonial of Scotland, refused to ratify the Acts, and insulted
the messenger of the Parliament.

Next year, 1561, Mary, now a widow, and as such having lost her high
position at the French court, returned to Scotland. She waited upon the
deck of the vessel which was taking her from the land of her youth,
until its shores faded from her tear-dimmed eyes. “Farewell, beloved
France,” she sobbed, “I shall never behold thee again.” When, on the
first day of September, she made her public entry into Edinburgh, never
had the city shown such an exuberance of warm enthusiasm. The procession
included all the foremost citizens, Protestant and Catholic, clad in
velvet and satin; twelve citizens supporting the canopy over the
triumphal car, where, like an Helen in her matchless loveliness, sat the
young Queen. When on the following Sunday she attended mass at Holyrood,
her Catholic servants were insulted, and the crowd could hardly be
restrained from interrupting the service. And so began the hurley-
burley, through six years little other than a civil war; a time of
confusion, of plotting and counter-plotting, of intolerance, of malice
and revenge; that fair figure with the dove’s eyes, but also with a
determined will and an unswerving purpose, ever emerging into the
foreground, now an object of admiration, and then for denunciation, but
always for the highest interest and the profoundest pity.

After Marys enforced abdication in Lochleven Castle, on 29th July, 1567,
her year-old son James was proclaimed King. The Earl of Morton, head of
the powerful Douglas family, taking, in the child’s name, the usual
coronation oaths. Mary’s half-brother, the Earl of Murray, became
Regent. Three years later Murray, whilst riding in State through
Linlithgow, was shot dead in revenge for a private injury. Then followed
two years of discord and confusion from rival factions; and then, 1572,
Morton became Regent, and was the master-power in the kingdom. For eight
years he was the controlling influence. He was haughty and revengeful,
and at the same time avaricious and corrupt; so he made many enemies,
and these plotted his destruction. One day when the King, now fourteen
years of age, was sitting in Council, one of James’s favourites entered
the chamber abruptly, fell on his knees before the King, and accused
Morton of having been concerned in the murder of the King’s father, Lord
Darnley. Morton replied that instead of having been in the plot, he had
himself been most active in dragging to light and punishing the
conspirators. He now demanded a fair trial; but fair trials were not
then general. Morton’s servants were put to the torture to extort
damnatory evidence, and several known enemies were on the jury; so he
was found guilty of having been “art and part” in Darnley’s murder. To
the last he denied having advised or aided in the foul deed; but it is
probable that he knew that it was in purpose. He suffered death by
decapitation at Edinburgh, in June, 1581, the instrument of death being
a rough form of guillotine, called the _Maiden_, which, it is said, he
introduced into Scotland from Yorkshire. The gruesome machine is now in
the Edinburgh Antiquarian Museum.

[Illustration: THE SCOTTISH MAIDEN.]

In 1596, James, now thirty years of age, quarrelled with his capital.
There was in all the Stuart kings a strong strain of the old faith in
what hearts they had; or, there was at least a very strong dislike of
the independent, self-assertive idea which was the basis of the
Presbyterian Church. James granted certain favours, which we should now
think simply common rights, to his Catholic nobles, and this roused the
ire of the Kirk, then ever ready to testify against popery, to assert
for itself the right of free judgment in religious matters, but
practically to deny this right to others. A standing _Council of the
Church_ was formed out of Edinburgh and provincial Presbyteries;
inflammatory sermons were preached, and the King, refusing to receive a
petition demanding that the laws against papacy be stringently enforced,
was mobbed, and seditious cries were raised.


James hastily removed the Court to Linlithgow, ordering the courts of
law to follow him there; and he ordered the magistrates to seize and
imprison the Council of Ministers as promoters of sedition. The
magistrates, anxious to regain the King’s favour, were preparing to obey
him when the ministers fled to Newcastle. The King’s unwonted
promptitude and decision, seem to have borne down all opposition. On the
1st of January, 1596-7, he re-entered Edinburgh between a double file of
guards, chiefly from the wild Highland and border clans, which lined the
streets. The magistrates on their knees submitted to him in most abject
terms, and many of the nobles pleaded for pardon. James was not a large-
minded man,—the more humble they, the more inexorable he. He gave three
of his lords charge of the city, declaring that it had forfeited all its
corporate privileges, was liable to all the penalties of treason, and
deserved to be razed to the ground. We learn that Elizabeth interceded
for the penitent city, which, deprived of its magistrates, deserted by
its ministers, and proscribed by the King, was in the lowest depth of
despondency. James relented so far as to absolve the city on the payment
of a fine of 20,000 marks, and the forfeiture to the crown of the houses
of the recreant ministers.

Elizabeth died in March 1603, and James was at once proclaimed King of
England, and warmly invited to take up his residence in London. On the
Sunday previous to his departure he was present at the service in St.
Giles’ Church. At the close of the service he rose and addressed the
congregation in a speech full of kindly expressions, declaring his
abiding affection and regard for his native land; and the sighs and
tears of the people shewed how their hearts were moved by his words.

Fifteen years later, James was again in Edinburgh. His progress from
Berwick was one continued ovation. In every town which he passed
through, flattering panegyrics, in Latin or Greek, were addressed to
him. As he entered Edinburgh by the West Port, he was met by the
magistrates in their robes, and the town-clerk read a long address
replete with compliments, so inflated and exaggerative, that the
dedication to “the most high and mighty Prince James,” of the authorised
translation of the Bible, reads comparatively flat and commonplace.
Afterwards, the king was sumptuously entertained, and presented with
10,000 marks in a silver basin.

Just at this time, the invention of logarithms, by a Scotch laird, John
Napier of Merchiston, near Edinburgh, was becoming known in the then
comparatively restricted scientific world. Logarithms are prepared
tables of numbers, by which complex problems in trigonometry, and the
tedious extraction of roots, can be performed by the simpler rules of
arithmetic. To the well-educated, they save much time and labour; in the
art of navigation, they enable the mariner who may be unskilled in
mathematics, to work out the most intricate calculations. In all vessels
on the open seas, when observations can be taken, in all mathematical
schools and astronomical observatories, logarithms are in daily use. As
with other things, familiarity discounts our wonder at their aptitude
and value; but the estimate by scientists of Napier’s invention is, that
it ranks amongst British contributions to science, second only to
Newton’s _Principia_. Kepler regarded Napier as one of the greatest men
of his age; and in the roll of those who were foremost in establishing
real science in Europe, his is the only name which can be placed
alongside the names of Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, and Galileo.

The long sloping street called the Canongate, which reaches down from
the centre of the Old Town to Holyrood, was, with its tributary lanes
and closes, created a Burgh of Regality by King David the First. It was
outside the walls of Edinburgh, and had its own Council of Bailies,
Deacons of Trades, and Burgesses. The Canongate is full of old memories.
There is the house of John Knox, the sturdy Reformer and typical
presbyterian. There is the Tolbooth—the Heart of Midlothian. From the
balcony of that old mansion, called Moray House, a gay party were, in
1650, with malicious and triumphant eyes, looking down upon a crowd
through which was slowly wending a low cart, in which was ignominiously
bound down that spent thunderbolt of war, Montrose—he is on his way to
execution. Aye, but in after years two in that jubilant party—Argyles,
father and son—will both also pass up that street amidst jeering crowds,
and to similar fates.




Edinburgh Castle is the central feature of the city. Its site is on the
summit of a huge isolated rock of eruptive basalt,—rising on the north
side,—out of the valley, now a garden, which divides the new from the
old town, to about 175 feet of perpendicular height. The castle, with
the slopes, occupies fully six acres of ground, and includes barrack
accommodation for 2,000 men; the armoury is calculated to contain 30,000
stands of arms. On the Argyle bastion there is a huge piece of old
artillery called Mons Meg; it is constructed of wrought iron, and had
burst at the muzzle at its last discharge. Its liner is formed of
longitudinal bars,—these are strongly hooped; it is thus allied in
construction to that of present ordnance, and, rude as the work is, it
shows the comparative high state of iron manufacture amongst the Dutch
several centuries ago.

The castle was used by Malcolm Canmore and his saintly queen, Margaret,
as a royal residence. The oldest building on the plateau which crowns
the rock, is St. Margaret’s Chapel, said to have been used by the queen.
On two sides of the quadrangle called Palace Yard are an ancient hall
which has just been restored, and a suite of residential apartments. In
a small turret-chamber, Mary’s son, James, was born. In a well-protected
room adjoining, the regalia of Scotland—crown, sceptre, sword of state,
and other insignia—are shewn.

The ancient regalia were “_conveyed_, the wise it call,” out of Scotland
by Edward I. Robert Bruce was _crowned_ at Scone with only a makeshift
crown; but it also fell into the hands of the English. The present crown
is, from the style of its workmanship, supposed to have been made in the
later years of Bruce’s reign. It was first used in the coronation of
David II., in 1329. Later sovereigns added to the ornamentation. The
sword of state was presented to James V. by Pope Julius II. There are
also certain jewels which were restored to Scotland at the death of
Cardinal York, the last of the Stuarts.

When Cromwell invaded Scotland, the regalia were, for security, taken by
the Earl Marischal to his own strong castle of Dunottar, in
Kincardineshire. When this castle was besieged by General Monk, the
regalia—known to be there by the English—were, by a feminine stratagem,
carried out by Mrs. Grainger, the wife of the minister of the
neighbouring church of Kinneff. The minister buried them in the church,
and there they remained until the Restoration.

At the Union, in 1707, the Scottish Estates passed a resolution that the
regalia were never to be removed from Scotland. A hundred years after
the whereabouts was unknown,—their very existence a matter of doubt. The
following extract is from the article “Edinburgh,” in the “Edinburgh
Encyclopedia,” edited by Sir David Brewster, published about 1815:—

  “At the time of the Union, the Scottish regalia were, with much
  solemnity, deposited in a strong iron-barred room, entered from a
  narrow staircase; but most probably prudential reasons have long ago
  led to their destruction or removal. They were too dangerous
  insignias of royalty to lie within the reach of the disaffected
  during the rebellions of the last century. Towards its close,
  however, some doubts were raised, and a warrant to search was issued
  to certain official persons. Nothing was found but an old locked
  chest covered with dust, and the deputation _did not think that they
  were authorized to break this open_. So the search was abandoned,
  and an opportunity, _not likely to recur_, of ascertaining whether
  the regalia were really in existence, was lost.”

The _italics_ are ours. In 1818, the regalia were found in a search
ordered by George IV.—then Prince Regent—in that same old chest, which
is still in evidence at the back of the jewel room.


Holyrood Palace, founded by David I., in 1158, was originally an abbey
of St. Augustine canons. The ruins of the church evidence the grandeur
of the ancient structure. Of a later date is the north-west wing of the
palace,—a portion of which was a royal residence of successive
sovereigns. One of the complaints against James III. was that he here
preferred the society of poets and musicians, to that of the ruder
nobility. James IV. was also partial to artists and literary men. In his
_Marmion_, Sir Walter Scott has the quatrain:—

                   “Still is thy name in high account
                     And still thy verse has charms,—
                   Sir David Lindsay of the Mount,
                     Lord Lion King-at-arms!”

Sir David was in the first half of the sixteenth century the leading
poet in Scotland. When a boy he was page of honour to the infant king,
James V.,—carrying him on his back,—his playmate, and, in a sense, his
tutor. Sir David addresses the king, giving some early reminiscences:—

               “And the first words that thou gan’st mute
               Were, ’pay Da Lin;” upon the lute
               Then played I twenty springs and three,—
               With whilk richt pleasurt thou would be.”

The suite of apartments occupied by Queen Mary are still left, with a
portion of the old furniture and hangings. As we wander through the
rooms, we can, in fancy, see Mary in the audience chamber, in one of her
distressing interviews with the leaders of the Reformation,—when most
unjustifiable demands were made on her that, against conscience and
conviction, she should renounce the faith in which she had been
nurtured,—should change her religion to accommodate the popular change.
Or, in the private supper-room, see her and her ladies at their
needlework; or hear one of these ladies sing an old Scots ballad of
loves gone astray, and with a sad ending. Then Rizzio’s rich baritone
rises in an Italian strain; and then there is on these stairs the
trampling of armed men, and foul murder is done before the eyes of a
queen and an expectant mother; and her life is never the same again.



  (_From a drawing by Blore, published in 1826._)


Little more than this wing of the palace was left by a fire, in 1650,
when Cromwell’s soldiers were quartered in the building. All the newer
portion was built in the reign of Charles II. The picture gallery is 150
feet long, and contains portraits (?) of 106 ancient Scottish kings.
Here, in the autumn of 1745, Prince Charles Edward held his mimic court.
At every general parliamentary election the sixteen representative
Scottish peers are chosen in this hall.

James VI. repaired and embellished the church, providing it with an
organ, a throne, and twelve stalls for the Knights of the Thistle. The
roof fell in in 1768, and the fine eastern window yielded to a violent
tempest in 1795. Since then the church—the sepulchre of Scottish kings
and queens—has been allowed to become a ruin.




        Offences and their Punishment in the Sixteenth Century.

The century which included the Reformation, and the long minorities of
three sovereigns,—James V., his daughter Mary, and her son, James VI.,—
all periods of strife and unsettledness, was for Scotland,
governmentally and politically, a turbulent one. The state was often in
confusion; but the burghs were little states, acting by their own laws,
under properly constituted magistrates.

The oldest records of the Burgh Court of Dundee which have been
preserved commence in 1550, and extend to 1568. These, with other old
records, have recently been carefully examined, and many portions
transcribed, by Mr. Alexander Maxwell, F.S.A. Scot., and they form the
ground-work for his two interesting volumes on Old Dundee. With the
author’s kind permission, we make several extracts, illustrative of the
social history of the period, so far as this is brought into view by the
matters which came before the Burgh Court. These records may be fairly
taken as a sample of the then condition, as respects crime, of the whole
of Scotland.

And three things will be in evidence from these records:—

1. That this was really a Court of Justice; patient consideration given,
as a rule, to the cases which came before it; and although some of the
punishments may seem severe, and others rather ridiculous, yet on the
whole the spirit was paternal, corrective, and peace-making. The
penalties inflicted were all on the supposition that the offenders had
still a sense of shame left, and that to have the good opinion of their
fellows was an incentive to well doing.

2. That considering the unsettled condition of the country, there was
not an abnormal amount of disorder and crime. Whisky, that curse of
Scotland in later years, had not come into use, and there was no
excessive ale and wine drinking. Theft was not common.

3. That a main point with the burgh authorities was to get locally rid
of their incorrigibles; leaving neighbouring towns and the country
districts to take care of themselves.

That ever unruly member, the tongue, gave a good deal of trouble:—

Reche Crag, baker, being warned that his bread was under weight, charged
the officer with using false weights to weigh his bread with, for which
insult “he is ordainit to come to the church on Sunday next in the time
of high mass to there offer a candle of a pound of wax, to ask the
officer’s forgiveness, and say, That the word was false he said.” James
Denman, having “blasphemed” a notary, has to ask his forgiveness, and to
pay to the master of the Hospital twenty shillings to be given to the
poor,—“and gif he be again apprehendit with the like, to be banishit the
burgh a year and a day.”

John Robertson and his wife had slandered Katrine Butcher. John sung
very small in Court,—“revokit his allegance as nocht of veritie, and he
knows nocht of Katrine but honour.” John’s wife appears to have first
uttered the slander in “flyting,” and she and he were “adjudgit to come
instantly to the Mercat Cross, and there ask Katrine’s forgiveness upon
their knees: and gif the wife be funden by day or nicht blasphemin any
man or woman, she will be banishit the burgh.”

For “wrangeous mispersoning of Will Gibson’s wife, Jonet Crag is
ordainit to pass to the Mercat Cross, and on her knees, with the beads
about her neck to say ‘My tongue leeit,’ and pass with the beads about
the town.” The tolbooth “beads” were derisively hung on the neck of a
termagant, whilst she made a promenade through the burgh. Poor husbands
had to bear the brunt of their wives’ characters. William Rannald, being
about to leave the burgh, “the Council decernit that nae testimonial be
given to him; but if he labours for ane, that it be made conform to his
wife’s demerits, and specify wherefore she was banishit this burgh for

Besse Spens is admonished “that gif she be found flyting with ony
neighbour, man or wife, and specially agains Jonet Arthe, she shall be
put on the cuck-stule, and sit there twenty-four hours.” This cuck-stule
had just been put up in an open position beside the Market Cross. To be
set up to public derision in this chair was the height of ignominy.

Whilst in these comparatively rude times women’s tongues often wagged
fiercely against each other, men’s wranglings would end in blows. Charly
Baxter “sall give to Robert Nicholson, for the hurting of him, forty
shillings, but as Robert was also to blame, he sall pay the leech
[surgeon] himself. And gif ony of them maks ony stroublance till other
in time to come, to pay a stane of wax to Our Lady.” So long as the old
Church held sway, fines were generally in candles for lighting St.
Mary’s altar.

The stocks now and again come into the record. For “stroublance of Patte
Baxter, Jok Galloway is ordainit to come on Sunday next with a candle of
a pund of wax, efter to be given to Our Lady licht, and ask the Bailies
and Patte’s forgiveness. And gif he will nocht do this, to lie the nicht
in the stocks, and ask Patte’s forgiveness the morn at the Mercat
Cross.” Nichol Anderson “is decernit to lie twenty-four hours in the
stocks, for stroubling of this gude town and wounding of ane stranger,
because he has nocht to pay the leech.”

When Rob Dawson “stroublit” Wille Pangell, “he is ordainit to pay the
leech for his craft of healing Wille’s head breaking, and give Wille
twelve pence ilk day that the leech may depone that he may nocht gudely
lawbour through the hurt.” “Henry Justice is ordained to cause cure
Margret Leischman’s head, broken by him within silence of the nicht.” It
was an aggravation of an offence that it was committed at night. Allan
Sowtar being charged by Besse Spens for the “stroublance of her and her
house, under silence of the nicht, he is amerciate [punished by fine]
for the trouble done to this gude town, an if he be founden committing
sic fault again, nicht-walking and making trouble, that he be banishit.”


  (_Now in the Scottish Antiquarian Museum._)

The sentences on a brawl in the churchyard, in September, 1554, are
notable as being the last in the record where the fines were in the
shape of offerings on the high altar of St. Mary’s Church. Fines where
they were not given as a _solatium_ to the injured persons, were
generally applied to aid “puir folks.” And punishments were as a rule
inflicted summarily; lengthy imprisonments, taking the persons away from
their ordinary occupations and maintaining them by the labours of
others, are quite a modern invention.

The vehemence of an outrageous fisherman is quenched in his own element.
“George Blak, boatman, is discernit to be doukit owr the head in the
sea, and also to pay forty shillings to the common gude for that he
keist Fothringham, ane workman, our the shore [pier], and also struck
Andro Cowtie, ane other of them, upon the face.” A worthless fellow is
awarded the punishment of a woman: “Sande Hay, for troublance made upon
Andro Watson, is discernit for his demerits to be put in the cuck-stule,
there to remain until four hours efter noon.”

This is how an objectionable couple is got rid of: “Alexr Clerke and
Elesabeth Stevenson,[1] being banishit this burgh for their demerits,
pykerie, and reset, and grite sumptuous spending by nicht, has
contemptuously come to the town, contrair to the statutes; whairfore
they are adjudgit—Sande to be nailit to the tron by the ear, and
Elesabeth brunt upon the check, and they be again banishit for all the
days of their life. And gif ever they be fund within this burgh, or ony
of them, to be put to deith.”

Footnote 1:

  As a rule—and indeed the custom has not yet entirely ceased in the
  country districts of Scotland—wives retained their full maiden names
  after marriage, and in both sexes the christian or given name was held
  to be—as doubtless it virtually is—the proper designation of a
  person,—the surname indicating the family or clan to which he or she
  belonged. On Scottish tombstones to this day, the inscription for the
  loss of a child by a married couple will read as “Son of John Smith
  and Barbara Allen.”

Nice distinctions were made in the comparative guilt of accomplices:
Watte Firsell and Duncan Robertson are found guilty of “common pickery
of ane puir woman within silence of the nicht,” and the sentence is,—
“That Duncan sall scurge Watte round about within the bounds of this
burgh, as use is; and gif he fails in the extreme punishment of Watte,
then Climas sall scurge them baith, in his maist extreme manner. And
thereafter Watte to be had to the Cross, and, by open proclamation,
banishit this burgh for seven years.” Climas was probably the burgh
hangman, for the Court assumed powers of life and death. John Wilson
has, for diverse reasons, been “warded” within the burgh: “Gif he beis
funden passing out of this town, without licence of the Provost or
Bailies, to be put to deith without forder proof.” In another case the
manner of threatened death is specified: “The assize hes convict Agnes
Robertson for theftuously committing of pykrie—whilk she could nocht
deny, being apprehendit with her—and siclyke, hes convict Jonett Moreis
for reset thereof. And thairfore the Bailies ordain Agnes to be banishit
this burgh for all the days of her life, and never to be apprehendit
within the same, under the pain of drowning. And siclyke Jonett to be
banishit for year and day, and gif she be apprehendit within the burgh
before the said day, to suffer deith as said is.”

Generally in cases of theft, and where there were no aggravating
circumstances, justice was satisfied by simple restitution or

John Cathro is relieved from the charge of carrying away the iron band
of Will Cathro’s door by his offer to make a new band “as gude as it was
at first.” John shortly after comes up again “for the wrangous taking of
five lilies out of John Gagy’s harth, and is ordainit to put in five
fresh lillies again.” A gleaner who has been helping herself to corn
from a farmer’s stooks, only has the blanket seized in which she carried
it. When there were aggravating circumstances theft was punished by

“Vehement suspicion,” without direct proof, was sometimes held to
justify punishment. “James Richardson, tailzour, being accusit of
pickrie, is adjudgit to be punishit with twelve straiks with ane double
belt, because there could be nae sufficient proof gotten, but vehement
suspicion, and syne to be banishit this burgh for year and day.” Another
tailor is, however, able to prove his honesty. Sande Loke is accused by
Jonet Sands, of keeping back some of the cloth that should have gone
into her kirtle. The kirtle was produced, and Sande ripped open the
seams, and laid it upon “ten quarters of new claith of like breid, and
it was found to be nocht minished by the craftsman.”

The habit of wearing swords, or “whingers,” as they are called, was a
fertile cause of quarrelling and personal injury. Sometimes offenders
were degraded by being for a time prohibited from wearing swords: thus,
William Fyf and James Richardson are, after an encounter, “convict for
troublance of this burgh by invading ilk other with wapins; William is
discernit to pay the barbour whilk heals James’ arm, stricken by him
with ane whinger; and baith are forbidden to wear whingers for the space
of ane year, or to invade other by word or deed in time coming, under
the pain of banishing the party whilk sall be found culpable.”

John Anderson “is decernit to pay to the common gude, the soum of five
pounds for his unlaw in breaking of the acts, by drawing of ane whinger
and invading of Archibald Kyd for his bodily harm, publicly in open
mercat; and he sall pass to the place where he offendit Archibald, and,
upon his knees, desire of him forgiveness. And his whinger is to be
taken from him, and put in the cuck-stule.” Jonkyn Davidson “hurt and
woundit John Jack in his body, with ane whinger, to the effusion of his
blude in grite quantitie.” The Bailies for amends “decernit that, upon
Saturday next Jonkyn sall come to the Mercat Cross in his sark alane,
his head discoverit, and, upon his knees, take his whinger by the point
and deliver the same to John; and thereafter the officer sall affix it
in the place whair the whingers of those are affixit that commit tulzie
within the burgh. And Jonkyn sall ask mercy and forgiveness at John, for
God’s sake, for his crime; and then sall act himself to be true friend
to John, and sall never hear nor see his hurt nor skaith, but will tak
part with him in all lawful things; and sal never draw a whinger
hereafter, on ony inhabitant, under the pain of banishing this burgh for
ever.” Furthermore he becomes bound to pay John by instalments the sum
of one hundred pounds. On the day named, Jonkyn, at the Market Cross,
made the prescribed atonement, “and then John receivit him in favour,
embracit him in his arms, and forgave him the crime.”

                       PENALTIES FOR IMMORALITY.

It was not only overt crimes which came under the jurisdiction of the
magistrates; they also took cognizance of conduct and habits which were
considered indecent, or which might lead to breaches of the public
peace. Thus the ringing of the ten o’clock bell was the call to a
general clearance of the streets and alehouses, a notification that the
burgh was entering into “the silence of nicht.” It was enacted that “Nae
person be fund walking in the nicht season, prevatlie or openlie in the
streets or gaits of the burgh, or drinking in ony ale or wine tavern
efter ten hours of the nicht, under the pain of forty shillings[2] for
the first fault, and for the next fault to be banishit; and that nane
sell ale or wine to sic persons, under the pain of banishing.”

Footnote 2:

  The comparatively low value of Scots money is always to be taken into

It was also enacted, “Forsameikle as we know it to be the command of God
that there sall nocht be ony drunkards among his people, we therefore
ordain that gif ony man be apprehended in drunkenness, he sall pay for
the first fault five merks unforgiven, for the second ten merks, and for
the third ten pounds, to be taken up by the deacons and distribute to
the puir. And gif he will nocht mend, but continue, then the Bailies
sall give him ane sys [assize] of neighbours, and gif he beis convictit,
he sall be banishit for year and day, and sall nocht be receivit without
his open repentance.” Provision is made for inability to pay fines; this
is commuted for so many days in “thiefs hol,” and the same act to
proceed upon drunken women.


And again, “That gif ony men or women be notit as common blasphemers of
the holy name of God, the Bailies sall give them ane sys of neighbours;
and gif they be convicted of it, they sall be usit samen as drunkards,
quhidder they be rich or puir.” But a more summary system than that of
assize was also adopted. “Quhasover is apprehendit banning, execrating,
swearing, or blaspheming openly, sall be taen incontinent and put an
hour in the choks.” This instrument of punishment was furnished with a
gag which entered the mouth; and besides the one for public offenders,
the citizens were “ordainit” to keep in readiness their own “choks for
correcting of the banners and swearers in their awn domestic houses.”


It is ordered that keepers of houses of ill-fame, “sall dispatch
themselves off the town, or else amend, and leave sic vicious manner of
leiving; for gif they be apprehendit therewith in time coming, they sall
be openly banishit at the Mercat Croce.” Unchaste conduct met with
severe reprobation. Men and women were “for the first fault to be
admonishit by the preachers to forbear, and to shaw their open
repentance publicly in presence of the haill congregation, and so
forbear in time coming. But gif he and she be again apprehendit in the
same fault, they sall stand three hours in the gyves, and be thrice
doukit in the sea, and gif that punishment serves nocht for amendment,
they sall be banishit for ever.” But the life of a coming child was not
to be endangered in punishing an unchaste woman; it was enacted that,
under such circumstances, “the woman, of what estate so ever she be,
sall be brocht to the Mercat Croce openly, and there her hair sall be
cuttit of, and the same nailit upon the cuck-stool, and she make her
public repentance in the Kirk.”

Exposing offenders to popular derision was a common mode of punishment
in Scotland. The stocks and the cuck-stool in the market-place, and the
stool-of-repentance in the church, were all used on the supposition that
the evildoer had still shame and a wholesome dread of the finger of
scorn lingering in the heart. The _jougs_—a hinged iron band for the
neck, attached by a chain to the market cross, the gate-post of the
parish church, or the tolbooth, a tree, or other wise—were a common
institution. The offence of the culprit would be placarded in bold
characters and very plain terms on his or her breast, or overhead.


Still drawing upon Mr. Alex. Maxwell’s researches amongst the municipal
records of Dundee in the middle years of the sixteenth century, we learn
that the Town Council, finding that much confusion arose from the
improvidence of many of the citizens in not making testamentary
dispositions of their effects, it was ordained: “that there sall be twa
honest men—responsal, famous and godlie—chosen by the general consent of
the haill estates of the town, and power given to them to pass—quhidder
they be requyrit or nocht—to visit man or woman in peril of death; and
they sall enquire at the sick gif they will mak ane testament, and gif
they consent, then the visitors sall despatch and put out of the house
all manner of man, and woman, and bairn, except such honest and sober
persons as the sick sall desire to be present as witnesses; and the
devyse and legacy then made by the sick person to be registrat
authentically in the buiks of the visitors, who after the decease of the
person testit as said is, sall see the dead’s will fulfillit.”

The dress worn by burgesses and others was required by law to be suited
to the degree of the wearer. In the fifteenth century, Parliament
ordained “anent the commons, that nae lauborars nor husbandmen wear on
the week day any clothes but gray and quhite, and on haliday licht blue,
and green or red; and their wifis corresponding, with curches of their
awn making, the stuff nocht to exceed the price of forty pennies the
ell. And that nae men within burgh that live by merchandise, unless they
be in dignity as Bailie, or gude worthy man of the Council, shall wear
claiths of silks, nor costly scarlett gowns, nor furrings; and that they
make their wifis and dochters in like manner to dress becomingly, and
corresponding to their estate; on their heids short curches, with little
hudis, as are usit in England; and as to their gowns, that nae woman
wear costly furs, nor have tails of unsuiting length, but on the
haliday: and that no woman come to the kirk or market with her face
coverit, that she may not be kend.” By another act, in 1567, it was
ordered “that nae women wear dress abone their estait, except——.” The
word we omit is spelled in the original the same as that which
designates the nymphs in the Mahometan paradise.


                             Old Aberdeen.

The following extracts from the Burgh records are interesting, as
illustrating the history and the manners of the 15th and 16th centuries.

21st April, 1452.—“The maist parte of the hale communitie of the burgh,
consentit that because of perile, the toune sal be stregnthinit with
walles, and fortifitt in a gudely manner.”

1st February, 1484.—“It is ordainit that the talyeours, and al other
craftsmen, sal beyr their taykins of their craft upon their brestis, and
their best array on Candilmas Day.”

4th July, 1497.—Henry VII. was at this time retaliating on Scotland for
the invasion of Northumberland by James IV., and for his assisting the
imposter, Perkin Warbeck, in his claims upon the English throne:—“It is
ordanit that a watch be set nichtly, for the sayfty of the town against
the Inglish, and gif they propose to lande on the northt partis of the
havyne, that all mannere of men, with their carts of weir, with horses,
gunrye, artailzerie, and all other defensebile wapinnis, be redy, and
pass to resist thame, for the saiftie of our Cathedral Kirk, my lord of
Aberdenis Palace, our maisteris the chanonis, and ther familiaris and

30th January, 1510.—“It is ordanit that on Candlemas Day, as is the
yerlie ryt and custom of the burgh, in the honor of God and the Blissit
Virgin Mary, there shall be the processioun of craftsmen, tua and tua
togidr, socialie, als honourabily as they can. And in the Offering of
the Play, the craftsmen sal furnyss the Pageants; the cordinaris the
Messing; wobstaris and walcaris, Symeon; goldsmithis, the thrie Kingis
of Cullane; the litstaris, the Emperor; the masons, the thrie Knichtis;
the tailyours, Our Lady Sanct Brid, and Sanct Elene; and the skynners
the Tua Bischopis; and tua of ilke craft to pass with the pageant that
thai furnyss to keip their gear.”

4th May, 1511.—Respecting the reception of Margaret, the Queen of James
IV., it is ordered that this be “als honorablie as in ony burgh of
Scotland, except Edinburgh allanarlie.” The poet Dunbar appears to have
been present at the reception, and has left a graphic description of the
pageant. In the welcoming procession, giving “honorabill salutation,”
came first the “sweitt Virgin,” then the three orient Kings, with their
offerings to Christ; and then the “Angill” with flaming sword, driving,
for their disobedience, Adam and Eve out of Paradise:—

         “And syne the Bruce—that evir was bold in stour
           Thow gart as Roy cum rydand under croun,
         Richt awfull, strang, and large of portratour,
           As nobill, dreidfull, michtie campion:
           The noble Stuarts syne, of great renoun,
         Thow gart upspring, with branches new and greine,
           Sae gloriouslie,—quhilk glaided all the toun:—
         Be blyth and blissfull, burgh of Aberdein.

         “Syne come thair four and twentie madinis ying,
           All claid in greine of marvelous bewtie,
         With hair detressit, as threidis of gold did hing,
           With quhit hattis all browderit rycht bravelie
           Playand on timberallis, and syngand rycht sweitlie;
         That seunile sort, in ordour weill besein,
           Did meet the Queen,—her saluand reverentlie;
         Be blyth and blissful, burgh of Aberdein.”

26th February, 1512.—“Philip Clerk, bellman,” was brought up for passing
with his bell through the town, and, on his own notion, announcing that
oysters just landed would be sold ten for fourpence, when the boatmen’s
price was ten for sixpence. “It was ordainit the said belman suld syt
dune on his knees, and ask the ownaris of the said oysteris forgiwness:
and his crag [neck] be put in the goyf at their wyte.”

12th May, 1514.—This was a few months after Flodden, when there was
still “a moanin in ilka green loanin,” for the flowers of the land “a’
wede away” upon that fatal field. “Ordanit be the prouest, consail, and
communitee of this burgh, that for resisting of our auld inemeis of
Ingland, thar be warnyt nychtly aucht able men, furnyst with wapins, to
waicht and keip the town and the cost syde; and that thai haue redy with
them fyr and stuf to mak blaise, to warne thar marow’s gif thai sal
hopin to se ony salis on the cost, likane to wither.”

14th August, 1525.—A copy is put in the records of an Act of Parliament
just then passed:—“that forasmekle as the dampnable opinzeons of herecy
are spred in diuerse contreis be the heretik Luther, and his disciples,
it is ordanit that no manner of persone, strengear, nor other that
hapyns to arrife with their schippys within ony port of this realme,
bring with thame ony bukys or verkys of the said Lutheris, his
disciplis, or seruandis, disput or rehers his hereseys or opunzeounes,
but gyfe it be to the confusione thairof, vnder the paine of escheting
of thair schippis and gudis, and putting of thair personnys in presone.”

6th January, 1561.—The Reformation had now made such progress that the
churches were being stripped of their old vessels and ornaments. “The
said day the town beand lauchtfully warnit to heir and se the silver
wark, brasin wark, keippis and ornaments of thair parroche Kirk ropit
[_i.e._, sold by auction], and the same to be sauld and disponit to
thame that vill offer maist for the same, and the money gottin for the
samyn to be applawdit to the commond weill and necessar advis of this
guid toun. And the grytest soome offerit for the same was ane hundredth,
fourtie tua pound be Patrik Menzeis for the Keippis,—XXIs. for ilk vnce
of silver,—XVIs. for ilk stane of brass, extending in the haill to the
soome of fyw hundredth XIlib. money of Scotland.” And the articles so
sold were delivered to the said Patrik; but not without protest, for,
“the said day Gilbert Menzes and Gilbert Collysone dissentit to the said
roiping, selling, and disposicioun, for thame selffis and their
adherans, lik as thai had discentit and protestit in sic caicis obefoir,
as thai alleigit, and tuk act of court tharwpoun.”

9th October, 1601.—“The prouest, bailleis, and counsall ordanis the
sowme of threttie tua merkis to be gevin to the Kingis servandis
presentlie in this burght, quha playes comedies and staige playes, be
reasoun thay are recommendit be his majesties speciall letter, and hes
played sum of theair comedies in this burght.” It has been suggested
that Shakespeare was one in this company of London players.

10th March, 1606.—Although Presbyterianism was now the general religious
faith in Scotland, certain customs connected with the Old Church appear
to have still lingered on. “Intimationne was this day made by the belman
throw the haill toune, at command of the prouest and baillies thereof,
that no inhabitant eat onie flesche during the time of Lent, nather yet
on Wedenisday, Fryday, nor Seterday theirafter, in na time coming; and
that na fleschar nor bucheour within this burght presume to sell onie
flesche during the tyme of Lent; and that na tavernar nor hostillar
within the samen mak onie flesche reddie during the said time of
Lentrone; under the panes contenit in his Majestie’s actis and
proclamationnes maid thiaranent.”

26th December, 1606.—Forbes Mackenzie had his forerunners in these days,
and their edicts were of even more stringent application. “Ordaneit,
with consent of the haill toune this day convenit, that it sall not be
lesum to onie hostilar, tavernar, or vinter of wyne, aill, or beir, to
sell or vent onie wyne, aill, or beir, fra ten houris at nicht furth, at
the quhilk hour nichtlie the colledge bell sall ring; efter the ringing
quhairof, no persone, man or woman, except sic as have necessarie
errandis to be fand gangard vpon the streitis or caisayes of the burght;
under penaltie efter conviction in ane vnlaw of fyve pundis.”

28th November, 1606.—The compulsory enforcement of what were held to be
religious obligations was not the outcome of particular forms of faith,
or of special times. The Aberdeen magistrates ordain:—“That the haill
inhabitants shall repair to the preaching in St. Machars Kirk, on Sunday
and Wednesday, under the pains following—viz., the goodman and goodwife
of the house contravening, 6s. 8d.; and ilk servant, 2s., Scots.”

In the records of the Kirk-Session of Aberdeen, we read:—

“It is thocht expedient that ane baillie with two of the sessioun pass
thro the toun every Sabbath-day, and nott sic as they find absent from
the sermones; that for that effect they serche sic houses as they think
maist meit; and chiefly that now, during the symmer seasoun, they
attend, or caus ane to attend, at the ferrie boat, and nott the names of
such as gang to Downie; that they may be punishit, conform to the Act,
against brackaris of the Sabbath.”

The tendency of the following order would be towards good digestion:—

“It is ordanit that na disputation nir reasonying of the Scriptures be
at dennar or supper or oppin table, quhair throw arises gryte
contentioun and debate; and that na flyting nor chiding be at time of
meit; under the payne of tua s. to the puyr.”


                        Witchcraft in Scotland.

Common-sense and everyday experience are at constant war with
superstition. But superstition dies hard; like a noxious weed which has
spread in a fair garden, if plucked up in one place it will appear
unexpectedly in another. The Reformers rejected the alleged daily
miracle of the Romish mass; in spite of the prayers, the genuflections,
and the _Hoc est Corpus_ of the priest, the bread and wine still
remained bread and wine. They rejected other alleged miracles of the
Catholic Church—the healings and other benefits from relics, and
pilgrimages, and holy wells. But an influx of belief in witchcraft set
in on the ebb-tide of the old faith. Men and women—especially women—were
supposed to have entered into league with the spirit of evil; by selling
their souls to him, they had conferred upon them in return certain
supernatural powers,—generally to the injury of their fellows.

In the latter portion of the sixteenth, and throughout the seventeenth
century, a belief in witchcraft was very general in Scotland; and
prosecutions for the alleged crime very frequent. That royal pedant,
James VI., wrote a treatise against witchcraft. He had himself been the
object of witchly machinations. Witches conspired with Satan to raise a
tempest and wreck the ship in which, in 1590, he was bringing home his
bride, Anne of Denmark. In May, 1591, a Convention sat in Edinburgh,
“anent order to be tane with sorcerers and certain practisers against
his Majesty’s person.” An assize was then sitting upon witches, in the
business of which the King took an active part. Under torture the
wretched creatures made extraordinary confessions,—one was of a meeting
which they had with the Devil in North Berwick Church, when, after
casting sundry spells upon the King and Queen, they concluded their
revels with a dance, the music for which was played by one of the women
on a jew’s-harp,—and this she repeated at the trial, upon his Majesty’s
request, for his particular delectation!

As to the punishment on conviction,—about this there could be no
dispute. Had not Moses, more than two thousand years previously, written
in his law:—“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live?” No use saying that
this law had only reference to circumstances in old Hebrew history, or
that the newer teaching was the more enlightened, the more humane, the
more generally applicable gospel of Christ. What were now called witches
had to die.

Most of those who were thus put to death as witches were poor old
women,—often soured and peevish in temper, ready to resent any slight,
and to croak out evil wishes and forebodings. And when evils did occur,
when sickness came into a house, or blight into its orchard, or the
cows’ yield of milk was scanty, or the butter would not form in the
churn, then the cause was assigned to the spells and cantrips of the
“ill-wisher.” Often, to raise their own importance, and make themselves
feared, these women would pretend to the possession of occult powers,—to
the knowledge of potions and charms,—both for the infliction and the
recovery of disease; as also of philters to induce love. And they would
themselves come to believe in their possession of such powers. And hence
on trial, under torture, or after sentence, they would make confession
of witchcraft, with strange disordered narratives of Satanic leagues and
unholy revellings. A woman was called a white witch whose specialty was
the cure of disease, or the recovery of lost or stolen property; but
none the less was she liable—like Rebecca in “Ivanhoe”—to be tried as a
sorceress, and suffer the penalty thereof.

It was not alone the old or the poor who were accused of witchcraft. At
times young women, and even young men,—and persons in a good social
position were so accused. And as an outcome of the crusade against
witchcraft, there arose a tribe of “witch-finders.” Pretenders to a
knowledge of indicative marks and moles and other signs, were permitted
to torture the suspects—to extort confession—being then paid their
professional fees.

A witch was supposed to have as an accomplice, a familiar spirit,—often
in the shape of a black cat,—an incarnation of the Evil one, or of one
of his imps. Sometimes the master-fiend held provincial Walpurgis
nights, when he assembled all his subjects in a neighbourhood to a high-
jinks festival—a scene of wild riot, of blasphemy, and of conspiracy to
do evil.

It is to one of these orgies in Auld Alloway Kirk that Burns introduces
his bemuddled hero, Tam o’ Shanter. But this poetical phantasy hardly
surpasses in absurdity the plain prose of the following indictment
against Thomas Leyis, of Aberdeen:—

“Imprimis, upon Hallowein last by past (1596) at twelff houris of even
or thairby, thou the said Thomas Leyis, accompaneit with Janett
Wischert, Isobel Coker, Isobell Monteithe, and Kathren Mitchell,
sorceroris and witches, with ane gryt number of ither witches, cam to
the mercat and fish cross of Aberdene, under the conduct and gyding of
the dewill—present with you all in company, playing before you on his
kynd of instruments. Ye all dansit about baythe the said crosse and the
meill mercate ane lang space of tym; in the quhilk dewill’s dans, thou,
the said Thomas, was foremost and led the ring, and dang [struck] the
said Kathren Mitchell, because she spoilt your dans, and ran nocht so
fast about as the rest. Testifeit be the said Kathren Mitchell, wha was
present at the time aforesaid, dansin with the dewill.”

The items of expenses in the burning of Thomas Leyis, Janet Wischert,
and Isobel Coker, viz.: for peats, tar barrels, coals, and tow,—and to
Jon Justice for their execution, as they are to-day found in the Town’s
Accounts, are a fearful indictment against the enlightenment and
humanity of three hundred years ago. But perhaps the last item in the
costs of that veritable devil’s festival is the most gruesome and

“For trailing Isobell Monteithe through the streets of the town in ane
cart, quha hangit herself in prison, and burying of her, 10s.”

In that year, 1597, twenty-three women and one man were burned in the
university city of Aberdeen for witchcraft.


                        Holy Wells in Scotland.

A spring of water issuing from the hillside, or from clefts in the
rocks—leaping and sparkling, as if in joyance at having from the dark
womb of the earth come into the light and freedom of open day—has often
been the parent of mystery, of myth, and tradition. The knowledge,
common in older times, did not enable the people to see that the spring
was merely the outflow by natural gravitation of the rainfall on the
more or less distant uplands. The licking up of portions of all the
strata through which the water had percolated, and which portions,
unseen by the eye, but present in the taste, it now held in solution,
was thought to be a natural quality of the particular water. And as
ordinary medicines are always associated with unpleasantness of taste,
so in waters impregnated with mineral ingredients, the harsher the
taste, the greater medicinal properties were attached to them. And the
higher temperature of many mineral springs was also considered to be an
innate property of the mystical, almost miraculous, particular waters.
We now know that this is caused by the waters, in following rifts and
fissures in the strata, in their passage to their outlet, having had to
descend to lower depths, and being thus warmed by the internal heat of
the globe: acquiring one additional degree of temperature for about
every seventy feet of descent.

As the old Greeks had in their pantheon of the powers of Nature, Naiads—
nymphs of the fountain—so in our older folk-lore the streams had their
Kelpies or other guardian spirits. When the Christian Church became
paramount, the Catholic Canon of saints and angels took the places of
the Teutonic and Scandinavian sprites: each spring was dedicated to, or
became the property of, a particular saint; and it was he or she who
gave the waters their special qualities.

At some of these holy springs or wells it was customary for ailing
persons to go, for the cure of their diseases, on the first Sunday in
May; they washed in the streams, and left presents to the tutelar
saints; pieces of money were put in the waters, or poor people would
place needles and pins, or other small articles, therein. On a hill near
Stirling was the well of St. Corbet, to which pilgrimages were thus
made. To drink its waters was a safe and easy insurance of life
throughout the twelve months ensuing. Up to a hundred years ago crowds
of persons—including a large proportion of lads and lasses—came to the
blessed well, drinking copious draughts of its waters, but too often
mixing these with the strong waters of Kilbagie, of Glenlivat, or other
such brand. The wise saint evidently did not approve of this
adulteration, for with the practice his well lost its life-preserving

The waters of the well of St. Fillan, in Strathfillan were supposed to
be curative of insanity. The patient was roughly thrown into the pool;
he was then taken to the adjoining chapel, and left bound therein during
the night; if likely to recover he would be found loose in the morning.
Mothers brought their weak and ailing children, bathed them in the well,
and as a propitiatory fee to the saint, hung a bit of ribbon, or a scrap
of coloured cloth, on the witch-elm which shaded his spring.

At Musselburgh was a well celebrated for its healing virtues, and its
powers of insuring good luck. Expectant mothers sent their child-bed
linen to be sprinkled by the water, and consecrated by the priest of the
adjoining chapel, which was dedicated to our Lady of Loretto. Four
hundred years ago it was esteemed the most miraculously gifted shrine in
Scotland. King James V. is said to have made a pilgrimage to it from
Stirling before he went to France to woo his future queen. If the
pilgrimage helped to bring Mary of Guise to Scotland—Scotland had little
cause for gratitude therefore!

A well at Muthill, near Crieff, was thought to be a cure for whooping-
cough; the waters had to be drank before sunrise, or after sunset,
through a cow’s horn. Another well near by had a reputation as curative
of madness. A third well was dedicated to St. Patrick; how it came to be
so is not easily understood; for the British Priest who became the
apostle and tutelary saint of Ireland, had no connection with the
district; and yet his day in the calendar was formerly observed there as
a holiday.

In Strathnaven is a small loch of supposed healing waters. There was a
rigid rule as to the mode of bathing. Persons must walk backwards into
the loch; when at sufficient depth they are to immerse themselves—leave
a coin—then, without looking round, walk ashore, and so away.

The well of Spa, near Aberdeen, had a high reputation for its medicinal
virtues. Its waters were conveyed from the spring by a long white stone,
with the images of six apostles carved upon either side thereof. In
1615, Dr. Wm. Barclay, an eminent physician, published a book on the
virtues of this well: giving some extraordinary instances of cures from
what seemed mortal ailments, by drinking its waters.

The Reformation brought loss of prestige to the old Romish Saints, and
the Scottish Kirk is found testifying against pilgrimages to reputed
holy wells. The following is an extract from the Presbytery Book of
Strathbogie:—“September 14, 1636. Peter Wat summond to this day for
going in pilgrimage to the chapell beyond the water of Spey, compeared
and confessed his fault. Ordained to make his repentance, and to paye
four markes penaltye. Agnes Jack summoned to this daye for going in
pilgrimage to the same chapell, compeared, and confessed that she went
to the same chapell with ane deseased woman, but gave her great oath
that she used no kynd of superstituous worship. She is ordained to make
her publike repentance, and to abstaine from the lyke in time coming.”

“Margrat Davidson was adjudget to an unlaw of fyve pounds, for directing
her nurs with her bairne to St. Fithak’s well, and washin the bairne
thairin for the recovery of her health, and for leaving an offering in
the well.”


                       Scottish Marriage Customs.

January and May were considered unlucky months to marry in. In some
localities there was a proverb—“A bride in May, is thriftless aye.” The
day of the week on which the 14th of May fell, was held to be an unlucky
wedding day throughout the remainder of the year. Highland marriages
took place as a rule in the churches; in the Lowlands the ceremony was
generally performed at the residence of the bride’s father; but often in
later years at the minister’s manse. When two marriages were to take
place at a church upon the same day, arrangements had to be made that
one party should not meet the other going to or returning from church.
During a marriage ceremony, great care had to be taken that no dogs
passed between bride and bridegroom; and the bridegroom’s left shoe had
been untied or unbuckled by his best man, to prevent witches casting
uncanny spells over the young couple.

The wedding feast was held in the evening, generally at the house of the
bride’s father. After supper, dancing began, the bridal pair being in
the first reel; from their supposed bashfulness, it was called the
_shemit_,—that is, shame-faced reel. Dancing and mirth were kept up
until the small hours; but before then the young couple—usually escorted
by some of the young folks—had slipped away to their own domicile; the
best man and bridesmaid having preceded them, the latter with a cake of
short-bread, ready to break over the bride’s head on her entering the
doorway. The bride was not expected to be seen out about until the
couple were “kirkit” on the following Sunday. A newly-made mother’s
first public appearance was also in church going.

“Penny-weddings,” were large gatherings of self-invited guests, each of
whom was expected to contribute towards the cost of the festivities; any
balance which might be over, to go to help in the new house-keeping.

Prior to the Reformation, a loose practice in the relationship of the
sexes, called _hand-fasting_, existed in Scotland. At the statutory
fairs, young men and women made mutual selection as partners for a year;
at the end of the year, they were free to marry, to live singly, or to
enter into other partnerships! It was the duty of the itinerant friars
to persuade the handfasts to marry, and by the end of the sixteenth
century the Reformers had effectually rooted out the custom. At the
Dundee Burgh Court on May 21st 1560, “Compearit John Ray, and oblist him
to marry his wife on Sunday next. At the same time James Rollock has
become surety that Robert Man sall complete the band of matrimony with
Jonet Myln, or else incur the danger conteinit in the acts.”

Ceasing to be considered a sacrament, marriage in Scotland came to be
looked upon as little other than a civil contract, hardly requiring
clerical agency, or religious formalities. A man and woman going before
a bailie or sheriff, and declaring themselves husband and wife,
constituted a legal although an irregular marriage. And the celebrant—if
so he could be called, who was really only a witness to the parties
having _married themselves_—need not even be a civil official. Gretna
Green had no special privilege in lay-marrying over any other portion of

It appears from Burgh records that in the sixteenth century, a women
holding property under a trusteeship, was not at any age free in her
choice of a husband. Marrying without the consent of her procurators
entailed the forfeiture of her property. A mother would retain her
daughter’s tocher unless she married with the mother’s approval.

And apprentices were not allowed to marry without the official
permission of their craft. We find from the Dundee Burgh records, that
in 1534, David Ogilvy, an apprentice baker, did so marry, and he was
expelled from his craft, and “tynt his freedom.” But David took the
decree fighting! He appealed to the King, James the Fifth, for
reinstatement, and the King gave an order, confirmed by the Lords of
Council, charging the Provost and Bailies of Dundee to re-admit him to
his freedom, and “cause the baxters receive him to their fellowship,
notwithstanding that he be marryit within his prenticeship,” and
decerning that he will suffer sufficient punishment if his term of
apprenticeship be prolonged for the space of one month.

A bride was expected—even in such circumstances of life as made her a
“tocherless lass”—to have ready against her marriage many articles of
domestic economy. In his song “Woo’d and Married and a’,”—written a
century and a half ago—Alexander Ross gives a graphic description of a
family conference over the ways and means of an “ill-provided” bride:—

                “The bride cam’ out o’ the byre,
                  And O as she dichted her cheeks!
                Sirs, I’m to be married the night,
                  An’ have neither blankets nor sheets;
                Have neither blankets nor sheets,
                  Nor scarce a coverlet too;
                The bride that has a’ thing to borrow,
                  Has e’en richt mickle ado.

                Woo’d and married and a’,
                  Kissed and carried awa’!
                And was nae she very well off
                  That was woo’d and married and a’?

                Out spake the bride’s father
                  As he cam’ in frae the pleugh;
                O haud your tongue, my dochter,
                  And ye’se get gear eneugh;
                The stirk that stands i’ th’ tether,
                  And our braw bawsint yade,
                Will carry ye hame your corn—
                  What would ye be at, ye jade?

                Out spake the bride’s mither,
                  What deil needs a’ this pride?
                I had nae a plack in my pouch
                  That night I was a bride;

                My gown was linsey woolsey,
                  And ne’er a sark ava;
                And ye hae ribbons and buskins
                  Mae than ane or twa.

                Out spake the bride’s brither,
                  As he cam’ in wi’ the kye;
                Poor Willie wad ne’er hae ta’en ye
                  Had he kent ye as weel as I;
                For ye’r baith proud and saucy,
                  And no for a poor man’s wife;
                Gin I canna get a better
                  I’se ne’er tak ane i’ my life.

                Out spake the bride’s sister,
                  As she came in frae the byre;
                O gin I were but married,
                  It’s a’ that I desire;
                But we poor fouk maun live single,
                  And do the best we can:
                I dinna care what I should want;
                  If I could get a man.

                Woo’d and married and a’,” etc.


                   Scotland under Charles the First.

James died in March, 1625, and a few days thereafter his son Charles was
proclaimed at the Edinburgh Cross, King of Scotland; but it was eight
years later before he visited the land of his fathers, and was crowned
as its King in Holyrood. The then finest poet in Scotland was William
Drummond of Hawthornden, and to him was confided the address of welcome
to Charles. The address was not in verse, but only in prose—run mad! “If
nature,” it began, “could suffer rocks to move and abandon their natural
places, this town—founded on the strength of rocks—had, with her castle,
temples, and houses, moved towards you, and besought you to acknowledge
her yours; her indwellers, your most humble and affectionate subjects;
and to believe how many souls are within her circuits, so many lives are
devoted to your sacred person and crown;” and so on. When the subjects’
flattery was so obsequious, we can hardly wonder at the amount of royal
arrogance and assumption.

The people were a good deal disturbed about the ceremonial of Charles’s
coronation; an altar was introduced, and some of the rites seemed to
savour of popery. He had Laud and some other English bishops in his
retinue, and the King soon gave evidence of his intention to carry out
the later attempts of his father, to introduce prelacy, with its
subordination to the crown, into Scotland. Now the old bishoprics of the
Catholic Church had never been formally abolished, but the titles had
been held by laymen of mean rank,—whilst the bulk of the emoluments had
gone to certain of the nobles. The nominal bishops were nicknamed
_Tulchans_; a tulchan being a calf-skin stuffed with straw, which was
set up alongside of the mother-cow, to induce her to yield her milk more
freely. The bishop had the title, but my lord had the milk. There was
thus a framework of episcopacy in Scotland, and James had in the last
year of his reign, ordered its re-establishment in full authority;
archbishops and bishops to have under himself the headship of the
Scottish Church.

Charles now confirmed the division of Scotland into dioceses, that of
Edinburgh to include all the country south of the Forth; St. Giles to be
the Cathedral church,—a wall which had been built to partition off the
church into two separate places of worship, to be removed. Four years
later, in 1637, the Kings projects had so far advanced, that a liturgy,
moulded on that of the English church—but where it differed, with a
stronger flavour of Rome—was ordered to be used in St. Giles’s. On the
first Sunday of the innovation, the church was crowded; two archbishops,
several bishops, lords of the privy council, the judges and city
magistrates, being in the congregation. When the dean, in his surplice,
began the service, an old woman—Jenny Geddes,—started up and exclaimed,—
“You false loon, will you rout your black mass in my lugg?” and threw
her stool at the dean’s head. This was a signal for a general uproar, in
the midst of which the dean had his surplice torn off by excited women.
Stones and other missiles were thrown at the bishops: the magistrates
called in the Town Guard to drive the malcontents out of the church; but
these by breaking the windows, battering at the doors, and wild clamour,
drowned the dean’s voice, as he again ventured on his ungracious task.
In the Greyfriars’ church the new liturgy was stopped by popular

With the obstinancy of his race, Charles persisted in his designs. He
issued proclamations denouncing as rebellion all obstruction to his
remodelled church, and transferred the seat of government and the courts
of law to Linlithgow. These proclamations were replied to by strong
protests from nearly every Corporation in the Kingdom, and the _Solemn
League and Covenant_, which had in the previous reign been instituted
against popery, was enthusiastically renewed, and subscribed by men and
women in all grades of society.


  (_From the Scottish Antiquarian Museum._)

Charles sent down the Marquis of Hamilton as his High Commissioner,
empowered to treat with the Covenanters. Hamilton took with him to
Edinburgh a retinue of nobility and gentry, who were supposed to be
friendly to the royal cause. He was met by a great concourse of people,
amongst whom were six thousand ministers in their black Geneva gowns. He
opened his commission, but the presbyterian leaders would hear of no
terms being made, as they said, with Antichrist. So Hamilton went back
to London, and reported his non-success to his master. Again he came to
Edinburgh, this time with some concessions, the king offering to
subscribe to the original form of the Covenant, which contained no
mention of prelacy.

Under the Kings sanction, a General Assembly met in Glasgow, in November
1638. The royal commissioner protested against certain proceedings, and
he formally dissolved and retired from the Assembly: but under its
moderator it continued its sittings, condemning the king’s liturgy and
the imposition of an episcopacy. The reply of Charles was the pouring of
two armies into Scotland, one being under his own command. The
Covenanters, with whose cause Parliament had identified itself, were not
slack in taking up the challenge. They appointed General Leslie, a
veteran from the wars of Gustavus Adolphus, to the command of a hastily
raised army. He seized on all the fortified places; and he fortified
Leith, to defend Edinburgh from the king’s fleet. In view of these
warlike preparations, Charles temporized, and a vague kind of treaty was
negotiated. Another General Assembly met next year in Edinburgh; and
here the Royal Commissioner gave formal sanction to the decisions of the
Glasgow Assembly. This sanction was received with an outburst of
enthusiastic gratitude; and loyalty—never far from a Scotchman’s heart—
was again in the ascendant. But it was a delusion and a snare. The king
repudiated the concessions of his own commissioner, prorogued the
Parliament which met to sanction the proceedings of the assembly, and
prepared for a fresh invasion of Scotland. The Scots anticipated his
purpose by sending their army into England—where many were friendly to
their cause. There was a battle at Newburn, on the Tyne, in which the
royal troops were defeated. The Scots occupied Newcastle—and
negotiations were again opened for peace.

And Charles had by this time embroiled himself with his English
subjects. He had tried to raise money by other means than through
Parliament. A Parliament sitting in 1628, had refused him supplies for
carrying on a war with Spain; it had also challenged his assumed right
to imprison his subjects on his own warrant; and they presented to him
what was called a _Petition of Right_, claiming exemption from arbitrary
taxation and imprisonment. Charles found it expedient for the moment to
sanction this Bill; but soon thereafter he dissolved Parliament, and
obstinately refused to call another. For eleven years, under the
influence and with the aid of Archbishop Laud, and Wentworth, Earl of
Stratford, he played at the dangerous game of _Thorough_. He governed as
an irresponsible autocrat, arbitrarily levying taxes, and imprisoning
obnoxious opponents, in defiance of the Petition of Right. The
_Puritans_, or church reformers, suffered severely. Many were dragged
before a court, unknown to the constitution or common law, called the
Star Chamber, which professed to take cognisance of offences against
religion and the royal prerogative. Men of piety, of learning and worth,
were imprisoned, were scourged through the streets, had their noses
slit, or their ears cropped, for expressing differences of opinion on
even minor matters in the policy of the church or the state.

Who were the Puritans? For answer we must go back to the English reign
of James. There had been considerable intercourse between the Reformers
of the two kingdoms, and the more democratic and anti-Romish
constitution of the Scottish Church, had had many sympathisers in
England. From these a party was formed, which came to be called
Puritans; they were not dissenters,—none such being then recognised in
the country; but were chiefly English clergymen. A petition, signed by
nearly a thousand clergymen, was presented to the King, praying for a
revision of the Book of Common Prayer,—the disuse of the surplice in
reading, of the sign of the cross in baptism, and of bowing at the name
of Jesus; also for a reform in the distribution of patronage, and the
abolition of pluralities. James, in full court, and with a number of
church dignitaries present, received the four professors of divinity in
the universities, who represented the petitioners. The King prided
himself on his polemical powers; he argued dogmatically, browbeat the
professors—asserting his superior knowledge of divinity, and declared
that uniformity should be enforced under severe pains and penalties. And
the lay and ecclesiastical dignitaries present vied with each other in
fulsome adulation. One bishop went on his knees, and thanked God for
having given them a king with such divine inspiration as the world had
not witnessed since Christ! The discomfited Puritans withdrew amidst the
jeers and laughter of the servile court.

But through the later years of James’s reign, and throughout the whole
of his son’s reign, puritanism grew, and threatened to either modify or
to disintegrate the English Church. A calvinistic divine, George Abbot,
was even appointed Archbishop of Canterbury;[3] and many holding church
livings were virtually nonconformists. A system of doctrines, which
denied the divine right of kings to govern as above the law, was hateful
to Charles Stuart. And the Queen, Henrietta Maria of France, was a rigid
Catholic; she detested the Puritans, and had inherited from her father
high notions of absolute rule; and all through Charles’s life she goaded
him on in the dangerous path which issued in his destruction. And Laud,
almost a Catholic in opinion, and as intolerant as any Spanish
inquisitor, directed the affairs of the Church; whilst Strafford was
scheming for royal despotism, and to undermine the privileges of
Parliament. Clergymen preaching absolute obedience were sure of
preferment; the more zealous advocates of _Thorough_ were made bishops.

Footnote 3:

  Refusing to licence the publication of some especially slavish
  sermons, on the royal prerogatives, Abbot was suspended from office,
  and confined to his country-house.

An old levy on the maritime towns and counties, to equip vessels for the
protection of the coasts in time of war, was, in time of peace, and on
the Kings sole authority, extended under the name of ship-money to
inland counties, and applied—not to the equipment of a fleet, but to the
support of a standing army; and, before this army, all constitutional
privileges were to be swept away. In 1637, a Buckinghamshire gentleman,
John Hampden, refused to pay the guinea-and-a-half levied on his estate;
but the Court of Exchequer upheld the tax.

And, hunted and persecuted, dragged before Laud’s High Commission on the
most paltry charges, and by it subjected to fines, to personal injuries
and imprisonment, many Puritans emigrated; some went to Holland, but the
greater number to America: and these became a considerable factor in
shaping the social, political, and religious history of the Greater
Britain beyond the Atlantic. Three men who came to be of special note in
our home history—John Hampden, John Pym, and Oliver Cromwell, were on
board, bound for New England, when a government order came to stop the
sailing of the vessel.

When the Scots were threatening Northumberland, the King was at his
wit’s end to raise money to pay his troops, and, as a last resource, he
summoned a parliament. The objects were declared in the opening speech
to be, to put down the Scots by the sword, and to raise money to pay the
costs which had already been incurred in the war. To rouse their
patriotism, the King read an intercepted letter from the Lords of the
Covenant to the French King, asking for assistance, in the name of the
old alliance between the two countries. But the appeal fell flat, the
English Commons looked upon the Scottish insurgents more as allies than
as enemies, and with kindred grievances to be redressed. So they would
grant the King no money until they had settled other matters with him;
and after eighteen days spent in wrangling, he called them to the bar of
the House of Lords, and haughtily dismissed them.

[Illustration: COVENANTERS’ FLAG.]

Meanwhile, the Scots holding Newcastle, commanded the coal supply of
London; and they took possession of Durham, Darlington, and
Northallerton. Every town in which the Blue Bonnets appeared, received
them kindly, and they kept strict discipline, occupying a good deal of
their time in psalm singing and hearing sermons. They professed loyalty
to the king, declaring that they had come only as humble petitioners to
be allowed to retain their Presbyterian Kirk. Against such meek and
harmless invaders, Charles could not raise an effective war-cry; he
found that his troops were lukewarm in his cause; he was strongly urged
to come to terms with them, and he appointed commissioners to arrange a
treaty. The Scots were meantime, from a loan raised by the citizens of
London, to have £40,000 a month for their maintenance.

And for the second time in this year (1640) Charles was obliged to call
a Parliament. It met in November, and—existing for nineteen years—is
known in history as the Long Parliament. Its first session was marked by
the imprisonment of Laud, and the impeachment of Strafford for treason
against the liberties of the people. Strafford defended himself with
great ability, and Pym, who conducted the impeachment, fearing his prey
would escape him, got the Commons to pass a Bill of Attainder—a measure
for the destruction of those for whose real or imputed offences the law
had provided no penalties. Under clamour and tumult the Bill was also
passed by the peers, and waited only confirmation by the king. Charles
hesitated—what conscience he had was pricked at the thought of
sacrificing one whose chief fault had been over-zealous loyalty to
himself, and helping him in his designs. But a letter from Strafford,
asking the king to leave him to his fate, was enough for Charles; he
signed the warrant, and Strafford was, in May 1641, beheaded on Tower
Hill. Laud was for four years detained in prison, and was then executed.

                             THE CIVIL WAR.

In the early part of 1642, matters between the king and Parliament had
become so strained, that both sides began to make preparations for war.
On January 4th, Charles had in person obtruded into the House of
Commons, and made an abortive attempt to arrest six members, who were
especially obnoxious to him. This overt act of the kings roused the cry
of “privilege,” and in Parliamentary circles excited general alarm and
resentment. Upon a demand made by Parliament for the command of the
army, the king broke off all amicable intercourse, and leaving the
capital, raised his standard at Nottingham, having under him an army of
ten thousand men.

The Parliament raised a larger, but a less disciplined and less ably
officered, army. On October 23rd, at Edgehill, in Warwickshire, for the
first time since the overthrow, by Henry of Lancaster, of Richard the
Third at Bosworth, in 1485, a battle was fought between Englishmen. The
advantage was with the King; and so, generally, was the campaign of the
following year, 1643. He defeated a Parliamentary army at Newbury in
Berkshire, and his dashing nephew, Prince Rupert, took Bristol by
assault; but he failed to take Gloucester, and lost a second battle at
Newbury. Meantime, Cromwell was beginning to take a foremost place as a
military disciplinarian and strategist—holding the rank of general of
cavalry; his will and purpose came to dominate the entire Parliamentary

Charles came to Scotland to try to win over the Covenanters to help him
against his Parliament. He would almost go the length of renouncing
episcopacy, and he ratified the deeds of the Glasgow Assembly. But the
Scots were on good terms with the English Parliament, and were even
sanguine of extending the presbyterian covenant into England, where an
anti-prelatical spirit was, under the now assertive puritanism, rapidly

On the 1st of July, 1643, an assembly of divines from both countries,
convoked by Parliament, met in Westminster Abbey. It was composed of men
of learning, of zealous piety and strong purpose; but they were also men
of their own time, sharing in its prejudices, its intolerance, and its
admixture of dogmatic theology with the politics and the partizanship of
the day. The grand truths, that God alone is Lord of the conscience, and
that it is as vain to try to fix and arrest opinions as it is to fix the
direction of the winds, or to arrest the tides, had not then come to be
rooted in the minds of men. For four years the Assembly sat, arguing and
discussing all the points in orthodox theology, and the various forms of
church government. The fruits of the “great consult,” are in the form of
documents which are still the recognised standards of presbyterian faith
and worship throughout the world. In August, 1647, the Scottish
commissioners reported the results to the Edinburgh General Assembly,
and these results were received as the basis of uniformity in faith, to
be established throughout the three kingdoms.

In England, the principle of Presbyterian church government was endorsed
by Parliament, and a General Assembly and provincial synods were
nominally appointed. But, on the one hand, the Anglican Church had many
influential supporters; it had now been established for over a century,
and had struck its roots deeply in the land; its supporters were by
their opponents called _Erastians_, from a German doctor Erastus, who
had advocated the subjection of the church to the state. On the other
hand were the Independents, who stood out against enforced uniformity,
and against any established creed or ritual. To allow of unrestrained
latitudinarianism in religious opinions, seemed to the rigid
presbyterians disloyalty to the faith,—servility to antichrist. Loudly
and rancorously did this controversy rage; the more that the principle
of uniformity was pressed, the more did independency branch out into
protests against this principle, in new sects—each one more self-
assertive than its neighbours. The political destinies of England were
now under the arbitrament of the sword, and religious dominancy would be
with supremacy in arms.

In Scotland in 1644-5, blazed like a terrific meteor, the course of
James Graham, Marquis of Montrose. He had been a Covenanter—vehement, as
his nature ever was—but through jealousy of Argyle and other nobles, he
took the King’s side. He raised an army of Irishmen and Highlanders, and
at Perth, Aberdeen, and Inverlochy in Argyleshire, he defeated troops
superior in numbers and discipline, by the fierceness of his onsets, and
rapid strokes of strategy. Pursued by superior forces, he doubled like a
hare, meeting and defeating his enemies in detachments, in Nairnshire,
at Aldearn in Aberdeenshire, and at Kilsyth near Glasgow, thus achieving
six successive victories. At Philiphaugh, near Stirling, he was
surprised and defeated by General Leslie. He fled from Scotland, but
returning in 1650, he was made prisoner, taken to Edinburgh and hanged.
He was able and energetic,—with the genius of a Napoleon for war,—
idolised by his men, but cruel and vindictive to his enemies.

Before Philiphaugh, Charles had been defeated at Naseby, and his cause
on the field was irretrievably lost. After holding Oxford for a time, he
placed himself under the protection of the Scottish Army, which—in the
pay of the English Parliament—was at Newark. He was received with
respect—and attempts were again made to induce him to subscribe to the
Covenant. What the Scots chiefly cared for was the security of their
national church; but Charles was wedded to episcopacy, as that form of
church government which best accorded with his notions of royal
authority; so he diverged from the presbyterians on a point which they
considered of vital importance. The English parliament demanded the
surrender of Charles, promising his safety and respectful treatment,—
expressing indignation at any suspicion of evil designs against him.

And we now come to an event which Scottish historians must ever approach
with hesitation and misgivings. The Scots gave up the King, it is said
by his own desire; and this just as, after long delays, they were being
paid £400,000, the arrears then due of their maintenance money. This has
generally been looked upon as an actual sale of the King to his enemies;
certainly it was a suspicious circumstance, the simultaneous occurrence
of the two transactions. But the one was not made an express condition
for the other; the money was due under agreement; and the Scots were
tired of the King’s presence amongst them; he was rather an unmanageable
guest—obstinate, unreliable, and bringing them into conflict with the
English parliament, and its formidable and now masterful army.

The King was placed in Holdenby Castle, and parliament, in carrying out
their promises to the Scots, opened negotiations for restoring his
authority, under certain restrictions; and having sent the Scottish army
home, they tried to disband the English army. But that army was now
master of the situation—it had Cromwell at its head, and retorted upon
the parliament with a demand for the dismissal of the presbyterian
leaders—and claimed for itself the right of remodelling the government.
Powerless for resistance, the House of Commons had to yield, and the
government of England became a military despotism. A Captain Joyce, with
a troop of horse, acting under secret orders from Cromwell, seized the
King’s person, and took him to Hampton Court. From there, on 11th
November, 1647, he made his escape; he reached the Isle of Wight, in
hopes of being able to cross the Channel; but was obliged to take refuge
in Carisbrook Castle; he was not kept a close prisoner, but was allowed
to ride and walk about the island.

At the neighbouring town of Newport, the Royalists negotiated a treaty
with the Scots, engaging for the King to confirm presbyterianism in
Scotland; the Scots to send an army into England to co-operate with the
Royalists. In the summer of 1648, a Scottish army under Hamilton entered
England, but were defeated by Cromwell at Preston. A strong party in
Scotland had repudiated the Newport treaty; the meeting of the Estates
had removed from office all who had accepted its engagements. At this
time the King and the English Parliament, both confronted by the army,
were approaching each other, and Parliament was about to vote that the
King’s concessions were satisfactory. But Cromwell sent Colonel Pride
with his troopers to surround the House of Commons, and prevent the
entrance of the Presbyterian members. Some two hundred were thus
excluded, and the independent members voted thanks to Cromwell, and gave
his after-proceedings the colour of legality. Within eight weeks
thereafter, the headsman’s axe put an end to Charles’s troubles.


                        Scotland under Cromwell.

A Scottish deputation visited the younger Charles at the Hague. After a
good deal of finessing it was agreed that Charles would be accepted as
King of Scotland, conditionally,—on the side of the deputation, that he
subscribed the Covenant; and on his side, that the Scots should furnish
an army to help him in the assertion of his English rights. He signed
the Covenant before landing at the mouth of the Spey, in June, 1650.
Cromwell again proved himself the man of the hour. He had just stamped
out with an iron heel a rebellion in Ireland; and, within a month from
the landing of Charles, he and his Irish army had crossed the Tweed, and
were marching on Edinburgh.

He had as his opponent the cautious old veteran, General Leslie. Leslie
caused the country in the line of Cromwell’s march to be laid waste. The
Ironsides had to contend with an enemy against which their indomitable
charges in the field were of no avail,—famine. Leslie’s tactics were to
avoid a battle; but he hovered menacingly round Cromwell, maintaining
the more favourable positions. The Lord-General saw no way out of his
difficulty, but either surrender or a fool-hardy attack on the strong,
well-posted Scottish army. Hemmed in on the shore near Dunbar, but in
communication with his ships, he was arranging to send off his camp
baggage by sea, and then, by a sudden attack with his horse, to cut his
way through the Scottish army, when the mis-timed zeal of the
Presbyterian preachers solved the difficulty for him. “Go down and smite
your enemies,” these preachers shouted, and Leslie’s safer generalship
was borne down by the clamour. On a stormy morning—the 3rd of September,
1650—the Scots descended to the open plains. Cromwell at the sight
exclaimed, “The Lord hath delivered them into our hands.” The wet and
weary Scots, not allowed time to form in proper order of battle, were
totally routed; thousands falling in the battle and the flight.

When the news of the defeat reached Edinburgh, the magistrates fled to
the headquarters of the Scottish army at Stirling. Four days after the
battle, Cromwell took possession of the city, but it was not till the
end of December that the castle surrendered. Other fortresses, Glasgow,
and all Scotland south of the Forth, submitted to Cromwell. But the
Scottish army was so strongly posted at Stirling that he did not attempt
to dislodge it. In the western shires, a party calling themselves
Remonstrators, opposed to Charles, and also to Cromwell and his army of
Independents, raised an army of about four thousand men, and attacked a
body of English troops at Hamilton. They were at first successful, but
through their very success they got into disorder, and were ultimately

The Scottish Parliament, having retired beyond the Forth, now ordered
that Charles should be crowned at Scone. He was residing in Perth, and
had been so preached at, prayed for, and pelted with good advice, that
his patience became exhausted, and one day he made a bolt for the
highlands. He reached Clova, a village amongst the Grampians, expecting
to find there a large concourse of Royalists, pure and simple. But very
few such met him, and he returned to Perth with a small party which had
been sent after him.

On 1st January, 1651, the coronation took place. A sermon was preached,
in which the insincerity of the Stuart family was a leading topic. Then
Charles swore to the Covenants, and to the maintenance of the
Presbyterian Kirk, and he was duly crowned and annointed King of
Scotland. Thereafter, not being lacking in personal courage, he took a
more prominent place in the field. He was sadly in want of money. The
Edinburgh mint was in the hands of the English; a mint was established
in Dundee—then well fortified—but there was a scanty supply for coinage
of the precious metals.

The records of the Dundee Town Council give a letter from the king dated
from Dunfermline, May 12th, 1651, asking the town to advance by way of a
royal loan, one thousand pounds sterling; but the King’s personal
security was then of doubtful value, and the Estates having passed an
Act ordering all the lieges to contribute voluntarily for the
necessities of the army, the cautious Dundonians at once entered into
such a contribution.

Meanwhile, the northern passes being strictly guarded, Cromwell sent
gunboats up the Forth. These were beaten off at Burntisland; but at
Queensferry they effected a landing of Commonwealth troops, and Cromwell
made his way through Fife, and took Perth. He thus gained a commanding
position in the rear of the Scottish army. But his northerly movement
left for the Royalists a clear way into England; and Charles expected to
find many friends there. So with the Scottish army he entered England by
Carlisle; and, by rapid marches, in three weeks from leaving Stirling he
reached Worcester. In hot pursuit, to give no time for raising a
Royalist army, Cromwell followed the king. He left General Monk with a
small army to complete the subjugation of Scotland.

Six days after Charles arrived at Worcester, Cromwell was there, at the
head of thirty thousand men. On the 3rd of September—being the
anniversary of the battle of Dunbar—a desperate battle was fought on the
banks of the Severn, and the inferior Scottish army—for comparatively
few English Royalists had joined on the march—was utterly routed. Three
thousand Scots were slain in the battle, and ten thousand were made
prisoners; the majority of these were barbarously shipped off to the
plantations, and sold into slavery. After many adventures and narrow
escapes, Charles contrived to reach France. For eight years he was a
hanger-on at various continental courts, and looked upon as a hopeless
claimant to thrones which had vanished from the earth.

When Cromwell left Scotland, Dundee was almost the only fortified town
which held for the king. Many Royalists, with their valuables, had taken
refuge therein. In anticipation of an attack by the English gunboats,
heavy guns were placed on the river frontage, and other means of defence
were hurriedly adopted. A committee of the Estates sat in the town; and
when, in the middle of August, General Monk, with four thousand horse
and foot, appeared before it and demanded its surrender, this committee
issued a defiant proclamation, and then decamped to Alyth, a little town
about eighteen miles to the north of Dundee, carrying with them a
considerable amount of public money. Monk, by a sudden swoop, captured
the committee; some, and amongst them the veteran General Leslie, were
killed; the others were sent to the Tower of London, and the troopers
enriched themselves by their plunder.


  (_From a painting by Vandyke._)

On 1st September, after a fortnight’s bombardment, Dundee was taken by
assault. Monk had had a training in military savagery under Cromwell in
Ireland, and he now beat the record of his master. Not only was the
brave governor Lumsden—after quarter had been given him—with eight
hundred of the garrison, put to death in cold blood, but it is said that
two hundred women and children shared the same fate. Carlyle, without
any note of disapproval, says: “Governor Lumsden would not yield on
summons; General Monk stormed him; the town took fire in the business;
there was once more a grim scene, of flame and blood, and rage and
despair, transacted on this earth.” It is said that the plunder of the
town exceeded two-and-a-half million pounds, Scots (£125,000 sterling.)
There were sixty vessels in the harbour. After the fall of Dundee,
Montrose, Aberdeen, and St. Andrews surrendered, and Monk was, for
Cromwell, master of Scotland.

And Cromwell was now virtually sovereign of England and Ireland also.
After disbanding, with taunts and insults, the Long Parliament,—as a
servant of which he had risen to power,—and playing for a little while
with a mock parliament, composed of his own adherents, he found himself
strong enough to govern without a parliament. At an assembly of
notables—1653—General Lambert, in the name of the army and the three
kingdoms, asked him to accept the office of Lord Protector of the
Commonwealth. With real or assumed reluctance he gave his consent; he
took the oath of office, put on his hat, sat down in a chair of state,
and Lambert, on his knees, presented to him the great seal. With more
ample authority than had ever been possessed by their legitimate
monarchs, he governed these islands till his death. This event occurred
in 1658, on the 3rd of September, the anniversary of his Dunbar and
Worcester victories.

And so this great personality departed. He was only in his sixtieth
year, and up to his last year he had appeared strong and healthy. But as
Carlyle says,—“Incessant toil, inconceivable labour of head, and heart,
and hand; toil, peril, and sorrow manifold, continued for near twenty
years now, had done their part; those robust life-energies had been
gradually eaten out. Like a tower strong to the eye, but with its
foundations undermined, the fall of which on any shock may be sudden.”
We might add to the above causes for what seemed premature decline, his
knowledge that he had a host of bitter and deadly enemies, ever plotting
against his life. To live in constant dread of assassination, will eat
as a canker into the bravest of hearts.

His character has been diversely estimated, according to the standpoint
of the critic. To a strong believer in force of will and energy of
purpose, like the writer quoted above, he is England’s greatest soldier,
statesman, and ruler. Others have called him hypocrite,—dogmatic,
vindictive, cruel to ferocity. Of his administrative abilities, his
unswerving resolution, and his military genius, there can hardly be two
opinions. Under his government there was peace and order, social
progress, and comparative freedom at home; abroad, the Commonwealth
achieved high honour and respect. As a victorious soldier, Cromwell
shewed little magnanimity towards the vanquished. Retaliation and
revenge were common faults of the times—say his apologists; yes, but a
truly noble character will rise above the sins and shortcomings of his
times; he will be the prophet and pioneer of better times.

As to Cromwell’s religious professions, they were doubtless sincere, but
men make their gods after their own hearts, and his god was the Jehovah
of the old Hebrews; a god of war and of vengeance, rather than the All-
Merciful Father of the Sermon on the Mount. Macaulay has said of the
theologically-flavoured political writings of the Puritans, that one
might think their authors had never read the New Testament at all, so
full were they of “smiting the Amalekites,” of “hewing Agag to pieces,”
and of the hard and bitter spirit of the older times. Can we wonder that
the mind of the Prince of the Puritans had, unconsciously perhaps, run
in the same narrow groove?

Of the Scottish rule of “His Highness, the Lord Protector,” it may be
said that after a long period of conflict and general unsettledness, it
was a time of peace. The laws were administered, even amongst highland
hills and border wastelands. Monk, with a small army, and a few forts
garrisoned by English troops, managed, after their several defeats, to
keep a brave, and naturally a patriotic and freedom-loving people, in
thorough subjection. They did not love the man; but, although he would
not allow the General Assembly to sit, their church had that freedom of
worship which under a Covenanted king they had failed to accomplish.
There were two leading Presbyterian parties, the _Resolutionists_, who
had placed the Scottish crown on the head of Charles, and still called
themselves king’s men, praying for him in the public devotions; and the
_Remonstrators_, who had never, in spite of all his oaths and promises,
adopted or believed in Charles, and studiously kept him out of their
prayers. (One might have thought that the worse a man he was, the more
he needed praying for). Cromwell favoured the latter party, making a
certificate from three or four of its ministers the condition of a
minister, although he might be called to a church, being paid his
stipend. Cromwell taxed the Scots very heavily, but perhaps, all
considered, they got fair value for their money. On the whole, so far as
Scotland was concerned, we may indorse what, in his _History of his own
Time_, Bishop Burnet says of the Protectorate generally:—“There was good
justice done, and vice was suppressed and punished. So that we always
reckon those eight years of Usurpation a time of great peace and


                   Scotland under Charles the Second.

At the death of Cromwell there was not, in the general aspect of
political matters, any definite forecast of what twelve months after
would be the form of government; certainly an easy and unopposed
restoration of the Stuart monarchy was about the last idea, warranted by
the history of the previous fifteen years. But one man, the still-
tongued, close-minded General Monk, solved the question. By his
influence as head of the army, and his tact and sagacity in party wire-
pulling, he so managed that within eight months of the Protector’s
death, Charles II. was quietly proclaimed King of Great Britain and
Ireland. It was a twenty-seven years of as mean rule, as has ever
darkened the pages of British history. Retaliations and persecutions—one
long attempt to turn back the stream of progress—a corrupt court,
leavening the national life with foulness and frivolity, such might be
the general headings of the chapters chronicling the reign of the “Merry

The restoration was in England baptized in blood. Ten “regicides” were
hanged at Charing Cross. This was harsh—revengeful; but not despicable
or unprecedented. But it is with disgust, with shame for our common
humanity, that we learn that the bodies of Cromwell, Ireton, and
Bradshaw were taken from their graves in Westminster Abbey, and on the
death anniversary (30th January) of “King Charles the Martyr,” drawn on
hurdles to Tyburn, and there hung on the gallows; then the heads cut off
and fixed on Westminster Hall.

And Scotland must not be left without examples of severity. The Marquis
of Argyle was the first victim. At the coronation of Charles at Scone,
he was the noble who placed the crown on the king’s head. But Charles
hated him as a leader of the presbyterians, who then held him in irksome
tutelage. After a most unfair trial, nothing tangible being found
against him except some private letters to General Monk, in which he
expressed himself favourable to Cromwell, he was found guilty, and
condemned to death. He met his fate with great firmness, saying that if
he could not brave death like a Roman, he could submit to it like a

Other victims followed. Swinburne has said of Mary of Scotland, “A
kinder or more faithful friend, a deadlier or more dangerous enemy, it
would be impossible to dread or to desire.” Mary’s descendants were
noways remarkable for fidelity in friendship, but they were implacable
in their hatreds. When he was in the over-careful hands of the
Covenanters, Charles had treasured up against a day of vengeance, many
affronts, brow-beatings, and intimidations, and now he meant, in his
stubborn way, to demand payment, with heavy interest, of the old debts.

And so Charles, the Covenanted King of Scotland, and in whose cause its
best blood had been shed, had nothing but hatred for the land of his
fathers, and for its presbyterian faith. A packed and subservient
Scottish Parliament proceeded to pass, first a Rescissory Act,
rescinding all statutes, good and bad, which had been passed since the
commencement of the civil wars; and next, an Act of Supremacy, making
the king supreme judge in all matters, both civil and ecclesiastical.
Charles soon made it evident that he meant to establish episcopacy.
James Sharpe, minister of the little Fifeshire town of Crail, was sent
to London to look after presbyterian interests; he was got at on the
selfish side, and made archbishop of St. Andrews. Nine other pliant
Scottish ministers received episcopal ordination in Westminster Abbey.

On the third anniversary of the Restoration, 29th May, 1662, copies of
the Covenants were in Edinburgh publicly torn to pieces by the common
hangman. The ministers were ordered to attend diocesan meetings, and to
acknowledge the authority of their bishops. The majority acquiesced; but
it is pleasing to learn that nearly four hundred resigned their livings,
rather than submit to the prelatic yoke. To take the places of the
_recusants_, a hosts of _curates_, often persons of mean character and
culture, were ordained. The people did not like the men thus thrust upon
them as ministers, and they still sought the services of their old
pastors; hence originated the “conventicles,” a contemptuous title for a
meeting-place of dissenters.

And now began, chiefly in the west and south of Scotland, those field
meetings which afterwards became so notable. At first they were simply
assemblies for worship, no arms were worn; after service a quiet
dispersal. But, as signifying nonconformity to prescribed forms, they
gave great offence. A new Act forbade, under punishment for sedition,
any preaching without the sanction of the bishops; and inflicting pains
and penalties on all persons absenting themselves from their parish
churches. If fines were not paid, soldiers were quartered on the
recusants, and their cattle, furniture, and very clothing were sold. It
was even accounted seditious to give sustenance to the ejected

It can be easily asked, why did this Scottish people, with the memory of
their past, submit to these things? There was, as in England, a reaction
to an extreme of loyalty; there was the satisfaction of finding
themselves freed from English domination in its tangible form of
Cromwell’s troops and garrisons; there was the pleasure of once more
seeing a Parliament in Edinburgh, even though it merely registered and
gave legal form to the king’s decrees. They were told that the advantage
of being governed by their own native prince implied as its price the
establishment of that prince’s form of religious faith. Their own nobles
and many of their ministers had conformed; and thus bereft of their
natural leaders, there was weakness and division. Despite of all these
discouragements, they were often goaded into insurrections; which were
cruelly suppressed, and made the excuses for further intolerance, and
still harsher persecutions.

The field conventicles continued. In the solitudes of nature, in lonely
glens, or on pine-shaded hillsides, with sentinels posted on the
heights, arose the solemn psalm, and the preachers prayer and
exhortation. And men now came armed to these gatherings, the women had
to be defended, force was to be met by force. To suppress such meetings,
troops were sent into the insubordinate districts, under a wild
fanatical Royalist, General Dalziel, and had free quarters on the
inhabitants. By 1666, a reign of terror was fully inaugurated; Dalziel
flared like a baleful meteor over the West of Scotland. In November of
this year, without concert or premeditation, an open insurrection broke
out. At Dalry, in Ayrshire, four soldiers were grossly maltreating an
aged man, and common humanity could not stand by and look on with
indifference or mere sympathy. The people rescued the old man, disarmed
the soldiers, and took their officer prisoner to Dumfries. A resolution
was suddenly taken to march on Edinburgh. They gathered in a fortnight’s
march to barely 2000 men, and wearied and worn out, encamped on a
plateau, called Rullion Green, on the Pentland hills, a few miles south
of Edinburgh. Here they were attacked by double their numbers under
Dalziel, and, after a gallant resistance, considering their inferior
arms and discipline, were put to flight. Some fifty were killed on the
field, one hundred and thirty were taken prisoners, thirty-four of whom
were, chiefly at the instigation of Archbishop Sharpe, hanged as rebels,
and the rest banished.


  (_From the Scottish Antiquarian Museum._)

And tortures—such as have had no place in modern history since the palmy
days of the Spanish Inquisition were inflicted to extort confessions of
complicity in a rising, which was really the offspring of momentary
excitement. _Thumbikins_ squeezed the fingers by iron screws. These
tortures were generally borne with heroic patience and resolution. One
young minister, Hugh McKail, comely in person, well educated, an
enthusiast in his covenanting faith, was subjected to the torture of the
_boot_. His leg was crushed, but he uttered no cry, only moving his lips
in silent prayer. He had taken very little part in the insurrection, but
was condemned to death. On the gallows-ladder his last words were:—
“Farewell father, mother, and all my friends in life, farewell earth and
all its delights, farewell sun, moon, and stars, welcome death, glory,
and eternal life.” Seeing what impressions such words made on the
listeners, in after executions drums were beaten to drown the voices of
the sufferers.

A weary ten years ensued of alternate “indulgence,” and renewed
intolerance. In 1667, the Duke of Lauderdale was placed at the head of
Scottish affairs. He had subscribed to the covenant, and had been a
Presbyterian representative at the Westminster Assembly. He was now a
subservient courtier, but did not at first assume the role of a
persecutor. He disbanded the army, and proclaimed an indemnity to those
who had fought at Rullion Green, on their signing a bond of peace. The
ministers ousted from their parishes were permitted to return, but on
conditions which the strict consciences of many could not accept; and
those who did accept were placed under close surveillance, and under
severe penalties forbidden to take part in any field meetings. Some of
the bishops were good men, striving earnestly to make peace within the
church. One of these, Leighton, Bishop of Dunblane, made an attempt to
reconcile Presbyterianism with a modified episcopacy. The bishops were
merely to sit as chairmen, or moderators, in the diocesan convocations,
and to have no veto on the proceedings, but the Covenanters thought this
a snare for entrapping them into an acknowledgment of prelacy, and the
idea was abandoned.

And Lauderdale who had begun his rule leniently, now afraid of being
represented to the King as lukewarm in his service, blossomed out into a
cruel persecutor, forcibly suppressing field meetings, and enforcing
extreme penalties on nonconformists. It has been estimated that up to
this date seventeen thousand persons had suffered in fine, imprisonment,
and death. It was said that fines extorted for non-attendance at the
parish churches, were applied to supply the extravagance of Lady
Lauderdale,—a rapacious, bad, clever woman. Landowners were required
under penalties to become bound for their tenants, that they would
attend their parish churches, take no part in conventicles, and not
relieve outlawed persons.

The gentry generally refused to enter into such bonds; and Lauderdale
wrote to the King that the country was in a state of incipient
rebellion, and required reduction by force of arms. He treated the whole
of the west country as if in open revolt. Not only did he send ordinary
troops with field artillery into the devoted districts, but he brought
down from the hills a Highland host of 9000 men to live upon, and with
every encouragement to plunder and oppress, the poor people. Speaking an
unknown tongue, strange in manners and attire, they were to the
lowlanders a veritable plague of human locusts. When, after a few months
of free quarterage, they went back to their hills, themselves and a
number of horses were loaded with booty, as if from the sack of a rich
town. But so far as we can learn they were not guilty of personal
violence upon those they were sent to despoil; perhaps in this respect
hardly coming up to the wishes and expectations of their employers.

In May, 1679, occurred a deed of blood which widened the gulf between
the Covenanters and the government, and gave legal colouring to
harshness and persecution. In Fifeshire, one Carmichael had become
especially obnoxious as a cruel persecutor, and an active commissioner
for receiving the fines laid upon the malcontents. On 3rd May, a party
of twelve men, chiefly small farmers in the district, with David
Hackston of Rathillet and John Balfour of Burley as the leaders, lay in
wait for Carmichael, with full purpose to slay him. It appears he had
received some warning, and kept out of the way. After waiting long, the
band were, in sullen disappointment, preparing to separate, when the
carriage of Sharpe, the Archbishop, appeared unexpectedly, conveying him
and his daughter home to St. Andrews. To these superstitious men, nursed
under persecution by old biblical texts into religious fanaticism, it
appeared as if an act of necessary vengeance was here thrust upon them,
that instead of an inferior agent, a foremost persecutor, who had
hounded to the death many of their brethren, was now delivered into
their hands. They took him from his carriage, and there on Magus Muir—
suing upon his knees for mercy, his grey hairs, and his daughter’s
anguished cries, also pleading for his life—they slew him with many
sword thrusts.

A general cry of horror and repudiation rang through the land. It was a
savage murder; but so had been the deaths of hundreds of persons more
innocent than he of offences against justice and common right. More
severe measures of repression were taken; new troops were raised, and
the officers instructed to act with the utmost rigour. And the
Covenanters grew desperate; they assembled in greater numbers, were more
fully armed, and more defiant in their language. On 29th May, the
anniversary of the Restoration, a mounted party entered the village of
Rutherglen, about two miles from Glasgow. They extinguished the festive
bonfire, held a service of denunciatory psalms, prayers, and
exhortations in the market place, and burned the Acts which had been
issued against the Covenant. In quest of the insurgents, and to avenge
the affront on the government, a body of cavalry rode out of Glasgow
barracks, on the 1st of June. Their leader was a distinguished soldier—a
man of courage and gallant bearing, John Graham of Claverhouse—
afterwards, for his services in the royal cause, created Viscount

In the annals of Scotland there is no name amongst the unworthiest of
her sons,—Monteith the betrayer of Wallace, Cardinal Beaton, the
ruthless persecutor, Dalziel, with a monomania for murder and
oppression,—so utterly detestable as that of the dashing cavalier,
Claverhouse. His portrait is that of a haughty, self-centred man; one
would think too proud for the meanly savage work he was set to do, but
which, with fell intensity, he seemed to revel in doing. In the
conflict, he appeared to have a charmed life, and in these superstitious
times he was believed to have made a paction with Satan:—for doing the
fiend’s work he was to have so many years immunity from death: neither
lead nor steel could harm him. It was said that his mortal wound,
received in the moment of victory at Killiecrankie, was from being shot
by a silver bullet.

Claverhouse, in quest of the demonstrators at Rutherglen, came, at
Drumclog, about twenty miles south of Glasgow, on the body of
insurgents; about fifty horsemen fairly well appointed, as many infantry
with fire-arms, and a number armed with pikes, scythes, and pitch-forks.
The Covenanters had skilfully posted themselves; a morass and broad
ditch in front, the infantry in the centre, a troop of horse on each
flank. Claverhouse’s call to surrender was answered by the singing of a
verse of a warlike psalm. The troops gave a loud cheer, and rode into
the morass; they found it impassable and themselves under a steady fire
from the Covenanters. Claverhouse sent flanking parties to right and
left. These were boldly met before they had time to form after crossing
the ditch, and nearly cut to pieces. And then the Covenanters made a
sudden rush, and after a desperate defence by Claverhouse, they utterly
routed him,—the only battle he ever lost.

This victory of the Covenanters over regular troops, ably commanded, was
a general surprise, and it found the victors ill-prepared to follow it
up to advantage. They next day occupied Hamilton, and, reinforced by
numbers, proceeded to attack Glasgow. They were at first beaten back by
Claverhouse, but he thought it advisable to retreat to Edinburgh; and
then the insurgents occupied Glasgow. The King meanwhile had sent the
Duke of Monmouth—a courteous and courageous gentleman,—albeit the bar
sinister ran through his escutcheon—to collect an army to quell the
rebellion. On 21st June the Covenanters—who had now their headquarters
near Hamilton, on the south-western bank of the Clyde, learned that the
Duke, at the head of a powerful army, was advancing towards Bothwell
Bridge—crossing which he would be upon them.

In the face of the common enemy, polemical disputes between the
different presbyterian parties brought confusion into their councils.
The moderate party drew up a supplication to the Duke, describing their
many grievances, and asking that they be submitted to a free parliament.
The Duke sent a courteous reply, expressing sympathy, and offering to
intercede for them with the King,—but they must first lay down their
arms. This condition the extreme party would not listen to, and at this
most unsuitable moment, they nominated fresh officers—men indisposed to
acknowledge any allegiance to the King, or, in matters appertaining to
religion, to submit to the civil power. Under Rathillet, Burley and
other irreconcilables, 300 men were posted to hold the bridge; they made
a stout defence; but it was forced at the point of the bayonet. Bishop
Burnet says,—“The main body of the insurgents had not the grace to
submit, the courage to fight, nor the sense to run away.” But when the
cannon began to make havoc in their ranks, and they saw the deadly array
of horsemen, and the serried ranks of disciplined infantry preparing to
charge—they threw down their arms, and became a mob of fugitives.

And now Claverhouse had to avenge Drumclog. His war-cry on that day had
been “No Quarter,” and this was his intention at Bothwell Bridge. Four
hundred were killed on the field and in the flight, but the strict
orders of the Duke were “Give quarter to all who surrender—make
prisoners, but spare life;” and thus the relentless swords of
Claverhouse and Dalziel were stayed. With the indignation of a true
soldier, Monmouth rejected a proposal to burn Hamilton and to devastate
the surrounding country; and he issued a proclamation promising pardon
to all who made their submission by a certain day.

But the milder spirit of Monmouth found no place in the treatment of the
prisoners taken at Bothwell. They were marched to Edinburgh, suffering
much on the way; there, 1200 men were huddled together without shelter
in the Greyfriars churchyard—sleeping amongst the tombs upon the bare
ground. Several supposed leaders were executed, some escaped further
misery by death from exposure, others were set free on signing a
declaration never to take arms against the King, and 257 were sent as
slaves to Barbadoes.

And meantime Claverhouse was passing as a destroying angel through the
western shires. Making little distinction between those who had, and
those who had not, taken part in the late insurrection—he seized the
property, and imprisoned or put to death, all against whom any charge of
contumacy could be laid. The hunted Covenanters were driven into wilder
seclusions, and their barbarous treatment naturally made them more
aggressive and extravagant in their language. Useless to talk to men
frenzied to despair of loyalty to a King, who, in his life of unhallowed
pleasure in distant London, heard not, or cared not, for the bitter cry
of the people whose rights he had sworn to protect. When they met at
midnight in lonely glen or trackless moor, the leaders, Cameron,
Cargill, Renwick, and others, would, like the Hebrew Prophets of old,
mingle prophecy with denunciation; their high-strung enthusiasm bordered
on insanity.

Cameron and Cargill published a declaration denouncing Charles, calling
on all true sons of the Covenant to throw off their allegiance, and take
up arms against him. And government had now a pretext for putting
Scotland under what was really martial law. The common soldiers were
authorised to put to death, without any pretence of trial, all who
refused to take the prescribed oath, or to answer all interrogations. It
was a capital crime to have any intercourse with prescribed persons; and
torture was inflicted, even on women, to extort the whereabouts of these
persons. At Wigtown, Margaret McLauchlan, a widow of sixty-three years,
and Margaret Wilson, a girl of eighteen, were drowned by being bound to
stakes within flood-mark.

Amongst many murders perpetrated at this time, that of John Brown, the
Ayrshire carrier, stands out conspicuous in horror. He was a quiet,
sedate man, leading a blameless life; his only offence was that he did
not on Sundays attend the parish church, but either read his bible at
home, or, with a few like-minded, met in a quiet place for a little
service of praise and prayer. One morning, whilst digging peats for the
house fire, he was surrounded by Claverhouse’s dragoons, and brought to
his own door. Here, his wife and children being by—a baby in its
mother’s arms—Claverhouse asked him why he did not attend on the King’s
curate; and John, answering that he had to obey his conscience rather
than the King, Claverhouse told him to prepare for death. He said he had
long been so prepared. He prayed with fervour, until interrupted by
Claverhouse, who saw his wild dragoons beginning to shew tokens of
sympathy; Brown kissed his wife and little ones, and he was then shot
dead. “What do you think of your bonnie man now?” the devil-hearted
slayer asked of the newly-made widow. “I aye thocht muckle o’ him, but
never sae muckle as I do this day.” She laid her infant on the ground,
tied up the poor shattered head in her kerchief, composed the limbs,
covered the body with a plaid, and then she sat down beside it, and, in
heart-rending sobs and tears, gave full course to natural sorrow. The
tragedy enacted on Magus Moor was a cruel murder, but if there are
degrees of guilt in such an awful crime, that committed at the cottage
door in Ayrshire was surely the more heinous and atrocious of the two.

Monmouth remained only a short time in Scotland; Lauderdale was still
nominally at the head of affairs. But in November, 1679, the King sent
his brother James to Edinburgh, partly to keep him out of sight from the
people of England. As a rigid Roman Catholic, standing next in
succession to the throne, he was very unpopular. A cry of popish plots
had been got up, and an Exclusion Bill would have been carried in
Parliament,[4] but Charles dissolved it, and he never called another;
for the last four years of his life he reigned as an absolute monarch.

Footnote 4:

  A concession which was proposed on the King’s authority now sounds
  very strange. It was that at his death James should be King, but for
  ever banished five hundred miles from his dominions; his daughter,
  Princess of Orange, to reign as Regent. Parliament would not listen to
  this rather impracticable project.

James, a royal Stuart, residing in long untenanted Holyrood, was made
much of by the Scottish nobility and gentry, and to conciliate them he
so far unbent his generally sombre and unamiable demeanour. He paid
particular attention to the Highland chieftains, and thus laid a
foundation for that loyalty to himself and his descendants, so costly to
the clansmen. But his presence and his influence in public affairs did
no good to the poor Covenanters. Against nonconformity of every shade
his only remedies were persecution and suppression. The poor wanderers
of the Covenant were hunted as wild beasts. Richard Cameron was slain at
Aire Moss. Hackston and Cargill were hanged. It is said that James often
amused his leisure hours by witnessing the tortures of the boot and the

And not the common people only were thus vexed and harassed. Strangely-
worded oaths, acknowledging the laws and statutes, and also the King’s
supremacy, were administered to all holding official positions. When, as
a privy counsellor, the oath was tendered to the Earl of Argyle—son of
the Marquis who was beheaded at the commencement of the reign—he
declared he took it so far as it was consistent with itself, and with
the Protestant religion. For adding this qualification, he was tried
for, and found guilty of, high treason. He contrived to escape from
Edinburgh Castle in the disguise of a page holding up his step-
daughter’s train. He reached Holland, a sentence of death hanging over

And in England, after dismissing the Oxford parliament, the King was
despotic. If he had any religious faith at all, it was towards
Catholicism, and thus he took up his brother’s quarrel. In the
administration of justice, juries were packed, and judges were venal.
London was adjudged to have illegally extended its political powers, was
fined heavily, and condemned to lose its charters. Breaches of their
charters by provincial towns were looked for, and something was
generally found sufficient to raise prosecutions upon, the award being
always given for the Crown. Fines were levied for the King’s private
advantage, and by his veto in the election of magistrates he held in his
hand Parliamentary elections. The university of Oxford issued a solemn
decree, affirming unlimited submission to the Royal authority; and the
most detestable of the very few judges whose names are a stain upon the
history of English jurisprudence—Jeffreys—was the very incarnation of
venality and injustice; he was a vulgar bully, ever finding a demoniacal
pleasure in cruelty and wrong-doing.

The country had been sickened of civil war, and public spirit seemed to
have deserted the land. Still the Whig leaders of the late majority in
Parliament made some attempts at organizing resistance. Shaftesbury was
for immediate rebellion; but Lords Essex, Howard, and William Russell,
and Algernon Sidney, more cautiously resolved to wait the course of
events, and act when an opportunity arose. They certainly meant an
insurrection in London, to be supported by a rising in the West of
England, and another in Scotland under the Earl of Argyle.

But a conspiracy in a lower stratum of political influence, called the
Ryehouse Plot, which proposed the deaths of the King and his brother,
having been divulged to the Government, and certain arrests made, the
prisoners, to save themselves, declared that Lords Howard and Russell,
and Sidney, Hampden (a grandson of the John Hampden of ship-money fame),
and others were implicated. Howard—recreant to the traditions of his
name—turned approver. Lord William Russell was tried for treason—nobly
supported by his wife—and although the evidence against him was weak, a
packed jury convicted him, and he was beheaded at Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
Sidney was tried by Judge Jeffreys. Howard was the only witness against
him, and for a conviction of treason the law required at least two
witnesses; but a manuscript treatise on Government had been found
amongst Sidney’s papers; certain passages on political liberty would
nowadays be considered as mere truisms, but Jeffreys ruled that they
were equal to two-and-twenty adverse witnesses. He also was found
guilty, and was beheaded on Tower Hill. Shaftesbury fled to Holland.
Lord Essex—a true nobleman—blaming himself for having put it into
Howard’s power to injure Lord Russell, committed suicide.

And some Scottish gentlemen were also implicated in the Whig plot.
Bailie, of Jerviswood, had been in correspondence with Lord Russell, and
was asked to give evidence against him. On his refusal, he was himself
tried for treason,—condemned and executed. Many were fined and
imprisoned; many left the country, or otherwise could not be found, but
were tried in their absence—outlawed, and their estates forfeited.

James returned to London: he feared the influence of the Duke of
Monmouth, who, trading on his father’s favour and his own handsome face
and genial manners, posed as an ultra-Protestant, and, in spite of his
illegitimate birth, aspired to the succession. James had Monmouth sent
to Holland—then, under the Prince of Orange, the refuge for English and
Scottish exiles.

But for Charles the world of time was now at its vanishing point. He was
only in his fifty-fifth year when, in the midst of his sensuous
pleasures, apoplexy seized him, and Bishop Ken had to tell him his hours
were numbered. Certain religious exercises were gone through, and the
sacramental elements being brought in, the bishop proposed their
administration. The King put this off, and the bishop retired. And now
James looked up a Catholic priest, and had him smuggled in by a private
door to the King’s chamber. The King made confession, and had the last
rites of the Church administered. Thus made safe by a Romish passport
into heaven—the dying King no doubt enjoyed as a good joke the prayers
and admonitions of the Protestant prelates, who, with the lords-in-
waiting, were afterwards ushered into his chamber. He died February 6th,


                    Scotland under James the Second.

Within half-an-hour of his brother’s death, James was seated as the King
in Council. He declared that he would govern by the laws, and maintain
the established church. Loyal addresses from all parts of his dominions
were poured in upon him; and the commencement of his reign gave promise
of stability and popularity. In a lesser degree he had his brothers
vices; but he had shewn considerable aptitude for public business, and
was not deficient in personal courage. In 1665, he had, in a war with
Holland, taken the command of the Channel fleet. On the 3rd of June a
great battle was fought off the Norfolk coast, within sight of
Lowestoft. When the fight was at its hottest, the Dutch admiral’s ship
blew up, and a Dutch fire-ship grappled with and destroyed an English
ship. James had twice to shift his flag, as his ships were successively
disabled. After an obstinate contest the Dutch ships sailed for the
Texel; James pursued for a time,—eighteen of the enemy’s ships being
taken or destroyed.

But his accession to the throne was not to be unchallenged. The Duke of
Monmouth and the Earl of Argyle met in Holland, and concerted
simultaneous insurrections in England and Scotland.

Monmouth landed at Lyme, in Dorsetshire, on 11th June, and marched to
Taunton, in Somersetshire, at the head of 5,000 irregularly armed
troops. He had married the heiress of Buccleuch, and in other ways
became associated with the nobility; stories had been set afloat of a
marriage between his father and his Welsh mother, Lucy Walters, and he
was looked on by many as the true heir to the throne. At Taunton he was
received with acclamations; twenty young ladies presented him with a
pocket-bible, a flag, and a naked sword. He had himself proclaimed King.
After a good deal of tentative marching through the western counties, he
fell back on Bridgewater, and three miles from this town, at Sedgemoor,
a battle was fought, in which he was utterly defeated. He himself fled
before the close of the fight; and was afterwards captured hiding in a

He was taken to London, and at his own solicitation had an interview
with the King. A larger-minded man than James would have been moved to
generosity, at the sight of his brother’s son grovelling on his knees
before him, and humbly suing for mercy; but generosity towards fallen
enemies was not a distinguishing trait in the Stuart character. And this
young man had long been a thorn in James’s path; so now no mercy for
him—his doom was immediate execution.

And terrible was the vengeance of the King on not only the leaders of
the insurrection, but on inferior participants, and on all who had given
aid or countenance thereto. There were a number of military executions;
and then Jeffreys was let loose upon the western counties. His “bloody
assize” was a very devil’s carnival of barbarity and death. The campaign
was opened at Winchester with the trial of Alice Lisle, the aged widow
of one of Cromwell’s lieutenants, for affording food and shelter to two
of the fugitive insurgents. Jeffreys bullied the jury into a verdict of
guilty, and then he sentenced her to be burned alive that same
afternoon. Horror-stricken, the clergy of the cathedral obtained a
respite for three days. Noble ladies, whom she had befriended in the
time of the Commonwealth, solicited her pardon from the King. Her son in
the army had served against Monmouth. And James was actually moved to
change her sentence from burning alive to beheading! And so it was
executed. In this judicial massacre, more than three hundred persons
were put to death, and very many who escaped death, suffered mutilation,
imprisonment, or exile. Hundreds of the prisoners were presented to the
courtiers,—to be sold for ten years as slaves in the West Indies. The
twenty young ladies of Taunton, who had figured in the ovation to
Monmouth, were assigned to the Queen’s maids-of-honour, and they sold
pardons to the girls at the rate of a hundred pounds a head!

The accession of James brought no relaxation in the oppressive laws
bearing upon Scottish presbyterianism. It was still in the power of the
military to apprehend and interrogate, to torture, to confiscate the
goods, and even to take the lives of those suspected of nonconformity,
or of assisting outlawed persons. It was therefore to be expected that
any attempt to throw off the galling yoke would have general sympathy
and support. Argyle had himself been the victim of unjust persecution;
and yet his invasion of Scotland was as futile and disastrous as that of
Monmouth was of England.

Argyle was a Highland chief, influenced by his old family feuds; and his
foremost idea was to fight the clans which were the hereditary enemies
of his house, and also loyal Jacobites. So with about three hundred men
he landed on the western peninsula of Cantyre, and was joined by about a
thousand of his Campbell clansmen. He proposed marching to Inverary; but
the other leaders were afraid of their little army being shut up in the
highlands, and thought that the western shires—in which the covenanters
were numerically strong, and where they had already boldly faced the
government troops—would be a better field for operations. There was as
usual in such differences, much wordy recrimination; time was lost; and
when at length a movement was made into Lanarkshire, long, weary
marches, with mistakes in the route, disheartened and demoralized the
insurgents. The royal troops, in superior numbers, were fast closing in
on Argyle, and, without a battle, his following fell to pieces, and
himself was made prisoner. He was taken with disgraceful indignities to
Edinburgh, and his old, most iniquitous sentence was carried out. Like
his father, he met his fate with firmness; he said the grim instrument
of death was “a sweet Maiden, whose embrace would waft his soul into
heaven.” Upwards of twenty of the more considerable of his followers
also suffered death.


As shewing the mean and cruel spirit of James, we may mention that on
medals which he had struck, commemorative of his triumphs over Monmouth
and Argyle, one side bore two severed heads, and the reverse two
headless trunks.

And now in his plenitude of power, James began to shew openly what was
his great intention, namely, the subversion of the Protestant faith, and
the restitution of papal sway in Britain. His brother had so far paved
the way for such a change, that he had taken advantage of the reaction
of loyalty at the Restoration, of the general disgust at that detestable
imposture, the Titus Oates’ “popish plot,” and of the discovery of the
atrocious Rye House plot, to make his government despotic. He had, by
his foul example, sown the seeds of immorality and corruption broadcast
through the national life. Religious fervour and high political
principle seemed to have vanished from the land,—servile submission to
kingly authority was preached by divines, sung by poets, and practised
by statesmen,—as the only safeguard against sombre puritanism, political
strife, and the misrule of the mob.

And now here was a zealot,—seeing sycophants all around him; men of
position hasting to gain his favour through the Romish confessional; a
servile parliament granting him bountiful supplies; and a powerful
French king sending him subsidies,—with the property, the liberties, the
very lives of his subjects at his disposal,—can we wonder that he
thought that his authority could be stretched to lording it also over
their consciences?

A century and a half previously, Henry VIII. had abrogated the authority
of the Pope in England, and James may have believed that what one
despotic king could do, another could undo. Of three things we hardly
know which most to wonder at:—the daring of the attempt—or, how nearly
he succeeded in his designs—or, that amidst so much apathy, servility,
and corruption, he did not, for a time at least, accomplish his ends.
But the Reformation was, on the face of it, a natural outcome of a new
dawn, after the long night of the dark ages in Europe. It was, with the
revival of letters, the new geographical and scientific discoveries, and
the general spirit of adventure and research, a stepping-stone towards
progress and enlarged political and intellectual freedom; whilst the
proposed retrocession to Rome meant going backwards, and a wilful
surrender to the old bondage and authority.

James publicly attended the rites of his church; he surrounded himself
by Catholic priests, a leading Jesuit, Father Petre, being his political
confidant; he entertained at his court—for the first time in England
since the days of Queen Mary—a papal nuncio. He placed the Church under
the control of a High Commission of seven members, Jeffreys, now Lord
Chancellor, at the head. In chartered towns, Catholics were to be
eligible to serve as mayors and aldermen. He began the formation of a
large standing army, and, in defiance of the Test Act, and in assertion
of his dispensing power, he largely officered this army by Catholics.
The university of Oxford had, in the previous reign, declared that in no
case was resistance to the royal authority justifiable, and it had now
to reap the bitter fruits of its servile declaration. The King appointed
a Roman Catholic to the deanery of Christ Church; another to the
presidency of Magdalen College, and twelve Catholic fellows were
appointed in one day. Oxford now began to see that passive obedience
might well stop short of a surrender of religious principles; it
resisted the royal mandates; and it would not submit, although twenty-
five of its fellows were expelled.

And a contagion of conversion broke out in the higher social ranks.
Noble lords and ladies of fashion went to mass and confession;
processions of Catholic priests were daily met in the streets of London;
Catholic chapels and monasteries were becoming numerous, their service
bells ringing perpetually.

In Scotland, the Chancellorship was bestowed on one of the King’s time-
serving converts, Drummond, Earl of Perth. He co-operated with the Earl
of Sunderland in England, in driving on James to the most extravagant
reactionary measures. By a new court order all persons holding civil
offices in Scotland were ordered to resign, and to resume their offices
without taking the test oath, ordered in 1681, they taking, for thus
breaking the law, a remission of penalties from the Crown; all not
obtaining such remission to be subjected to the said penalties. That
is,—all officials were ordered to break the law, and were to be subject
to penalties for such infringement,—unless by getting the King’s pardon
they acknowledged his power to abrogate the law! And this test oath had
been the contrivance of James himself when in Scotland,—forced upon
Presbyterians at the sword’s point, and held so sacred that Argyle had
been condemned to death for taking it with a slight qualification.

The short reign of James was one of the saddest periods in Scottish
history. He had refused to take the usual coronation oath, which
included the maintenance of the established church. In spite of this
refusal—which impaired the validity of his right to rule—a weakly
compliant parliament expressed the loyalty of absolute submission. The
law against conventicles was extended to the presence of five persons,
besides the family attending domestic worship. If the meeting was held
outside the house—even on the door-step—it was to be considered a field-
conventicle punishable by death. But on the question of repealing the
penal acts against Catholics, Parliament proved refractory, and it was
forthwith dissolved.

The King issued a proclamation depriving the burghs of the right of
electing their own magistrates. When, to favour Roman Catholicism, he
issued his Declaration of Indulgence, by which there was to be general
liberty of worship; yet—strange anomaly—the laws against field-preaching
continued in full force. Under these laws, James Renwick, a delicate,
but enthusiastic field-preacher, was executed in Edinburgh in February,
1688. He was the last in the fearfully long roll of covenanting martyrs.




The Declaration of Indulgence, permitting all professions of religion to
worship in their own ways, was published by James—solely on his own
authority—in April, 1687. At the first blush we may be inclined to call
this general indulgence a step in the right direction,—even although we
know that under the cloak of toleration to all forms of faith, the
King’s main object was to legalise Catholic worship and ritual. We now
say, from the more liberal stand-point of the nineteenth century, that
the penal laws against the exercise of Catholic rites were tyrannical
and unjust. But we have to consider the times in which these laws were
introduced, when after a long and bitter struggle the papal yoke had
been thrown off,—when the severities of Rome against those she termed
heretics were fresh in the memory,—and that she never abates one jot of
her assumption to be the one authoritative church—claiming the entire
submission of Christendom. And Dissenters knew that the King was here
bidding for their support against the established church. They saw that
Tyrconnel, the King’s Viceroy in Ireland—a country where James did not
require to keep up appearances—was fast arming the Catholics,
preparatory to a total subversion of Protestantism; and thus the
Presbyterian and other dissenters saw in the Episcopal Church the
rallying point of religious freedom; they overlooked its past
subserviency to power and its harshness to themselves, in consideration
of its present danger, and the stand it was now preparing to make in the
common cause.

In April, 1688, the king ordered his Declaration to be read in all the
churches. The London clergy met and signed a refusal to comply with the
order, and the primate, Sancroft, and six other bishops, presented a
petition to the king against being compelled to read a document which
assumed the legality of the dispensing power. Only in seven of the
London churches, and a few in the country, was the Declaration read. The
king was furious, and summoned the bishops before the privy council; on
their acknowledging their signatures to the petition, they were
committed to the Tower. Their passage down the Thames was a public
ovation; from crowded quays, bridges, and barges arose enthusiastic
shouts of encouragement; the very officers of the Tower went on their
knees for the episcopal blessing. In their imprisonment, the bishops
were visited daily by nobles and leading men; and—which irritated James
most of all—a deputation of dissenting ministers went and thanked them
in the name of their common Protestantism.

And just at this time an event occurred which had a remarkable bearing
on the history of the period. On June 10th, 1688, James’s queen gave
birth to a son. The news had been circulated that a child was expected;
the faithful ventured to prophesy a prince; a blessing vouchsafed by the
intervention of the Virgin Mary, in response to prayers and pilgrimages.
But Protestant England had both feared and doubted. The Court and its
household were, almost exclusively, composed of Catholics, and when the
birth of a prince was announced, it was generally believed that a
strange child had been smuggled into the palace, and was then being
passed off as the king’s son. There now seems little doubt but that the
infant was really the offspring of the king and queen. Thus, to his
father’s joy, and to Catholic anticipations of the throne being after
him still occupied by a king of the old faith—but with general doubts
and misgivings—with repudiation instead of welcome, came into the world
the ill-fated prince, known in our history as James the Pretender.

On June 20th, the trial of the bishops took place before the Court of
King’s Bench. They were charged with having “published a false,
malicious, and seditious libel.” Of the four judges, two were for the
petition being a libel, and two were against. The jury had to decide the
question, and were locked up during the night. At ten o’clock next
morning, when the Court again met, there was a silence of deep suspense
before the verdict was pronounced. When the words “not guilty” fell from
the foreman’s lips, a great cheer arose, which penetrated into the
crowded street, and was speedily wafted over London, extending even to
the troops on parade at Blackheath. It was a day of general
congratulation and rejoicing; and bonfires and illuminations went far
into the summer night.


                        The Revolution of 1688.

Before the birth of the prince, the general idea had been that the
country should tide over James’s misgovernment as best it could, and
wait patiently for the succession to the throne in natural course of
Mary, Princess of Orange, the elder daughter of the king by his first
marriage. But the situation was now altogether changed; and on the very
day of the acquittal of the bishops, there was sent—signed by the bishop
of London, several noblemen, and others—an invitation to William to come
over with an army to the relief of the country: and the prince at once
commenced his preparations.

And meantime, James, his purposes and hopes of success strengthened by
the birth of a son, was indignant at his defeat in the trial of the
bishops, and, goaded on by the French minister and his inner circle of
advisers, he resolved to crush the spirit of the nation by force of
arms. He brought over several regiments of Tyrconnel’s Irish troops, and
their menacing presence, as strangers and Catholics, was hateful to the
English people. A derisive doggrel ballad, called from its burden
_Lilliburelo_, was sung and whistled all over the land.

And now the king was told that his Dutch son-in-law was making great
preparations for invasion. He knew that he had lost the best safeguard
of his throne—the confidence and affection of his subjects—and whilst
adopting means for defence, he hastened to retract all the measures
which had made him unpopular. He threw himself in feigned repentance on
the advice of the bishops, and they, in plain words, like the prophets
of old, told him of his injustice and oppression, and advised him at
once to call a Parliament. He dismissed his priestly adviser Father
Petre, and the renegade Lord Sunderland. He restored its fellows to
Oxford, and their franchises to the corporations. But the precipitation
of fear was so evident in his concessions, that there was no reaction of
confidence. The people were watching the weathercocks, and praying for a
north-east, or, as it was called “a Protestant” wind.

After waiting some weeks for a favourable wind, and with an after-delay
from storms, by the end of October, William was fairly at sea. He first
sailed up the North Sea, as if he intended a landing on the Yorkshire
coast; but changed his course for the Channel. The wind and tide
prevented the royal fleet from attacking him in the Straits of Dover.
From the opposite coasts his fleet presented a magnificent sight. There
were sixty men-of-war and seven hundred transports, extending twenty
miles in length.

It was just a hundred years since such another magnificent spectacle had
been seen in the Channel—the Spanish Armada—also bent upon the invasion
of England. _Then_, the great fleet meant papal aggression, and priestly
domination; _now_, it meant deliverance from this aggression, and
freedom of the conscience; _then_, beacon fires on mount and headland
flashed danger to the lives and liberties of Englishmen; _now_ the
tidings that a foreign fleet was skirting the coast were of glad and
hopeful assurance.

On the 5th of November—the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot—the fleet
anchored at Torbay, in Devonshire. With his army of fifteen thousand
men, William marched to Exeter, where he was enthusiastically received.
But the memory of Jeffreys’ “bloody assize” was still fresh in the
western shires, and for several days there were few signs of
encouragement; it is said that he even meditated returning to Holland.
But bye-and-bye one nobleman after another, and several officers of
James’s army, entered the camp. The north of England began to stir in
raising and disciplining revolutionary troops, and the Earl of Bath put
Plymouth into William’s hands.

The King hastened down to Salisbury, resolved to stake his kingdom on
the issue of a battle; but William, although a thorough captain in war,
wished to avoid bloodshed; he trusted to the increasing stream of
desertion from the king rendering a great battle unnecessary. And so it
turned out. The sagacious lieutenant-general of the king’s army, Lord
Churchill, the Dukes of Grafton and Ormond, even the king’s younger
daughter Anne, with her husband, Prince George of Denmark, and many
other persons of note, joined the Prince of Orange.

James went back to London, and sent away the queen and her five-months’
old child to France. When he knew of their safety he left London at
night, by the river. He threw the great seal into the Thames, and
proceeded to Sheerness, where a small vessel was waiting for him.
Boarding the vessel he attracted the attention of some Kentish
fishermen, who, in hopes of reward, made him prisoner. Released, by an
order of the Lords, he returned to London, and passed thence to
Rochester. William wanted him out of the country; so facilities were
made for his escape, and he was soon at St. Germains, where Louis gave
him a friendly reception; and at St. Germains he made his home. Assisted
by Louis, he made, next year, an attempt for the recovery of Ireland. In
that essentially Catholic country, it seemed at first that he would
there be able to retain one of the three kingdoms, but his defeat by
William, at the Boyne, compelled his return to France. He died September
16th, 1701, aged 68 years.

The King, having fled, and no parliament sitting, William was advised to
claim the kingdom by right of conquest. But both from principle and
sound policy he held that this would be a less secure right of
possession than would be the choice—as formal as under the circumstances
it could be made—of the English people. So he summoned a Convention of
the States of the Realm,—irregularly convoked in the emergency, but
elected in the usual manner. The Convention met on 22nd February—six
weeks after the King’s flight.

The debates were long and stormy; the two Houses disagreed,—the Lords
could hardly bring themselves to declare for the deposition of the King;
but the Commons were firm, and at length this resolution was passed in
both houses: “That James, having violated the fundamental laws, and
withdrawn himself from the kingdom, has broken the original contract
between king and people, has abdicated the government, and therefore the
throne has become vacant.”

And then came the questions,—Who was to reign? and what was to be the
order of succession? Here there was a division of opinion. Was James’s
infant son to be acknowledged as King—with William as Regent? or, Should
the crown be conferred on Mary in her own right? William was not a man
of many words, but he now got together a few of the leading men, and to
them he spoke very plainly: he would not interfere with the right of the
Convention to settle its own affairs as it thought best; but for himself
he would not accept any regency, nor—much as he loved his wife—would he
remain in England as her gentleman-usher. In a few hours his words were
all over London, and it was known that he would be King.

So the Convention passed a number of resolutions, embodied in what was
termed a Declaration of Rights,—defining the royal prerogative, and the
powers of parliament; and the Prince and Princess, having signified
their adhesion thereto, it was resolved that William and Mary be jointly
King and Queen of England, Ireland, and the dominions belonging thereto;
the administration to rest in William. The crown was settled,—first on
the survivor of the royal pair,—then on the children of Mary, then on
those of her sister Anne, and next on the children of William by any
other wife. The son of James and his posterity were thus shut out
entirely from the succession.

The Scottish Convention of Estates passed resolutions nearly similar to
those in the English Declaration of Rights, closing with a declaration
against Prelacy, asserting that there was no higher office in the Church
than presbyter.

On the leading question then before the country, their resolution had a
more decided tone than that of the English Convention. They declared
that James had assumed the throne without taking the oaths prescribed by
law, that he had proceeded to subvert the constitution of the country
from a limited monarchy to an absolute despotism; that he had employed
the powers thus usurped for violating the laws and liberties, and
altering the religion of Scotland; for doing these things he had
_forfeited_ his right to the crown, and the throne had thereby become
vacant. The Scottish royalty was conferred on William and Mary, in like
terms as that of the English Convention.

                        BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE.

In the crisis of his affairs, James had summoned his Scottish troops to
England. Their commander, Lord Douglas, went over to William; but the
second in command, John Graham of Claverhouse—now Viscount Dundee—had an
interview with the King—assured him of the loyalty of his troops, about
6,500 well disciplined men, advised the King either to hazard a battle,
or to fall back with these troops into Scotland. On the King declining
both propositions, Lord Dundee took up a position at Watford, about
eighteen miles north-west of London, expecting an attack by William. But
Dundee had served his early campaigns under the Prince, having in one
engagement rescued him from imminent danger. So the Prince now sent him
a message that he had no quarrel with him. Then came James’s flight, and
the Prince’s entry into London; and Dundee seeing he could do nothing
more to help James in England, rode back with about twenty-five of his
dragoons into Scotland. The Scottish army was placed under General
Mackay, one of William’s adherents, and he was shortly after sent as
commander of the royal forces into Scotland.

Lord Dundee came to Edinburgh, for some time hovering like a hawk over
the then sitting Convention. The Duke of Gordon still held the Castle
for King James; Dundee had an interview with the Duke and advised “no
surrender,” he then, with a few horsemen, left the city. (We all know
the ringing song in which Sir Walter Scott narrates his departure.) Like
a fiery-cross he went through the highlands, rousing the clansman to
battle for the fallen Stuart King. The man must have had a dominating
personality; in a short time he had assembled an army, feeble in
discipline and cohesion no doubt; but, as it proved, good for the kind
of work it befell them to do.

The highlanders were posted on an open slope at the head of the pass of
Killiecrankie in the north Perthshire hills. To give them battle,
Mackay, on 17th June, 1689, advanced up the pass. When the royal troops
entered the defile, no enemy was to be seen,—only the pines towering
high upon the cliffs on either hand, and the river Garry rushing swiftly
by the narrow pathway through the pass. To the Lowland and Dutch
soldiers, who composed the royal army, it was a scene novel and
magnificent, but bewildering, awe-inspiring.

Dundee allowed the whole of Mackay’s army to emerge from the pass, and
even to form in order of battle, before he began the attack. It was an
hour before sunset that the highlanders advanced. They fired their
muskets only once, and throwing them away, with fierce shouts they
rushed down with broadsword and target. Mackay’s line was broken by the
onset. When it came to disordered ranks, and the clash of hand to hand
combats, the superior discipline of the royal troops was of no account.
Agility, hardihood, and the confidence of assured victory were on the
side of the clansmen. It was soon a rout; but with such a narrow gorge
for retreat it became a massacre. Two thousand of Mackay’s troops were
slain. The highlanders’ loss was eight hundred; but amongst these was
their gallant leader. Near the end of the battle, Dundee, on horseback,
was extending his right arm to the clan Macdonald, as directing their
movements, when he was struck by a bullet under the arm-pit, where he
was unprotected by his cuirass. With him perished the cause of King
James in Scotland. After his death his army melted away, and both
highlands and lowlands submitted to the Government of William.

General lenity and toleration were the watchwords of William’s policy.
The episcopal church was to be maintained in England, and the
presbyterian in Scotland; but neither were to ride rough-shod over
dissenters. In Scotland, much against the desires of the more rigid, as
the Cameronians, there were to be no reprisals for former persecution
and oppression. Even obnoxious officials were maintained in their old
places. When the Jacobite rising in Ireland was quelled by the surrender
of Limerick, a treaty was there made by which Catholics were to be
allowed the free exercise of their religion. William endeavoured to get
parliament to ratify this treaty, but two months after it had been
entered into, the English Parliament imposed a declaration against
Transubstantiation on members of the Irish parliament, and this
parliament, entirely composed of Protestants, whilst giving nominal
confirmation, really put the Catholics in a worse condition than they
were before. The Irish Catholics have since then called Limerick, “the
town of the broken treaty.”


                        The Massacre of Glencoe.

To counteract the spirit of disloyalty which was still lurking amongst
the Highland clans, the Earl of Breadalbane, cousin to the Duke of
Argyle, was entrusted with £16,000, to be distributed among the various
chieftains, conditionally on their making submission to William and
Mary. The Earl did not make an impartial distribution of the money; the
leading chiefs were bought off, the lesser were intimidated by threats.
A branch of the clan MacDonald were settled in a wild valley, Glencoe,
in north Argyleshire; a small river, the Coe (the Cona of Ossian—a name
which sounds musically sweet—calling up thoughts of serenity and peace,)
runs through the valley towards Lochleven—the arm of the sea which
separates Argyleshire from Inverness-shire. The valley spreads flatwise
to the bases of the surrounding hills, which seem to stand as fortressed
walls to guard it from all danger. But in this secluded spot—shut off as
it seemed from the outer world—was enacted the basest of all the acts of
treachery and barbarity which disgrace this seventeenth century.

MacIan, the chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe, was an old man, stately,
venerable, sagacious. He now charged Breadalbane with having defrauded
him of his share of the government money; the earl retorted that MacIan
and his tribe had been persistent marauders over his Campbell clansmen’s
lands round Glencoe, which was probably true enough, as there had been a
feud of long standing between the clans. A proclamation had been issued
that—under severe penalties for non-compliance—submission had to be made
before the 1st of January, 1692; MacIan, out of a spirit of
contrariness, put off taking the oath, and the Secretary of State for
Scotland, the Master of Stair, a friend of Breadalbane’s, reported
officially to the government that the MacDonalds were not making
submission, and that they were an incorrigibly lawless tribe of thieves
and murderers.

On the 31st of December, MacIan and several of his leading clansmen went
to Fort-William, and proffered to take the oath of allegiance before
Colonel Hill, the commanding officer. Not being a civil official, the
Colonel was not empowered to administer the oath, but, moved by the
distress of the old man, who saw the danger to which his obstinacy had
exposed his people, he gave him a letter to Sir Colin Campbell, the
Sheriff of Argyleshire, requesting him to receive, although after the
official date, the submission of the chief. With this letter MacIan
hastened on, through snowstorms, by swollen streams, and rugged mountain
paths, to Inverary. The road passed near his own home, but he was now in
such haste that he went right on; but it was the 6th of January, before
he had accomplished the weary fifty miles, and presented himself before
the sheriff. The sheriff, considering all the circumstances,
administered the oath; he gave MacIan a certificate, and wrote to the
Privy Council, detailing the facts, and giving explanatory reasons for
his own conduct in the matter.

But the secretary had hoped to have had MacIan in his power, and was
chagrined by the submission; so the sheriff’s letter was suppressed, and
the submission deleted from the records of the council. On the 16th of
January, the secretary obtained the king’s signature to the following
order, addressed to the commander of the forces in Scotland:—“As for
MacIan of Glencoe, and that tribe, if they can be well distinguished
from the rest of the Highlanders, it will be proper for the vindication
of public justice to extirpate that set of thieves.” Burnet says that
William did not read the order, but signed it, thinking it was only a
detail in ordinary business. Another explanation is, that the fact of
MacIan’s submission being treacherously withheld from William, he
thought that the extirpation meant by the order was, that _as_ a “set of
thieves” they were to be broken up, and brought under ordinary law.
William could not have meant to order or to sanction the horrible event
which followed; but still the name of Glencoe ever sounds as a blast of
judgment against the fair fame of the Deliverer.

And now, as under the royal order, the secretary gave explicit
instructions for the indiscriminate butchery of the whole “damnable
race.” The passes were to be guarded to prevent any escape. “In the
winter,” he wrote, “they cannot carry their wives, children, and cattle
to the mountains. This is the proper season to maul them, in the long
dark nights.” A detachment of troops, belonging Argyle’s regiment, under
Campbell of Glenlyon, were sent into the glen. They were hospitably
received, and were quartered amongst the inhabitants. A niece of
Glenlyon’s was married to a son of MacIan’s, and for twelve days there
was hunting by day, and feasting, card-playing, and healths-drinking in
the long evenings. Glenlyon and a party accepted an invitation to dine
with MacIan on the 13th of February, but, as had been previously
arranged, at four o’clock of the morning of that day, the work of blood
began. The old chief was shot in his bed; his wife was stripped naked,
and died next day from terror and exposure. The two sons of MacIan were
aroused by the musket shots, the shouts of the murderers, and the
screams of the victims; they, with many others, men, women, and
children, fled, half-naked, in darkness, snow, and storm, into the less
savage wilderness. The falling snow proved fatal to several of the
fugitives, but it was the salvation of the others, for it prevented the
troops, who were to have guarded the passes, from arriving at the time
appointed, to intercept and slay all who had escaped from death in the
glen. It was mid-day when these troops, by the several passes entered
the glen, and they found no MacDonald alive but an old man of eighty,
and him they slew. Every hut was burned, the cattle and horses of the
tribe were collected, and driven to the garrison of Fort-William.

Thirty-eight victims: Was Secretary Stair satisfied? Not he; he was
mortified that his plans for total destruction had failed. “I regret,”
he wrote, “that any got away.” It is said that two men—one engaged in
the contrivance of the massacre, and the other in its execution—
Breadalbane and Glenlyon—did feel the stings of conscience, the heart-
gnawings of remorse, and were never the same men afterwards.

It was long before the hideous story of Glencoe came to be generally
known. On the facts being published, there rose a popular clamour for an
inquiry. On the eve of the meeting of the Scottish Parliament, in 1695,
it was known to ministers that the war-cry would be “Glencoe.” So in
haste they got the King to appoint a Commission. After a searching
enquiry, the Commission reported that the slaughter at Glencoe was
murder; and that of this murder the letters of the Master of Stair were
the sole warrant and cause. As a punishment for his great crime, Stair
was _dismissed from office_!


                   The Union of Scotland and England.

Just at the time when the full realization of the horrors of Glencoe was
agitating the public mind, the disastrous Darien scheme was floated.
This, the first great national adventure in foreign commerce, was a wild
speculation, based upon the fanciful assumptions of one man, William
Paterson. His scheme was to establish a trading colony on the narrow
isthmus joining North and South America, as a convenient stage between
India and Europe. His eloquent tongue, and even more eloquent
reservations, produced glowing visions of national and individual
wealth. There was a rush for shares in the “Company of Scotland;” for
their purchase landowners mortgaged their estates, farmers sold their
cattle, widows pledged their jointures. Nearly half-a-million sterling
was subscribed. Ships and stores were purchased, and in July, 1698, a
colonizing expedition of 1200 men left Leith, amidst the wildest popular
enthusiasm. It reached its destination, and under the ninth parallel of
north latitude a New Edinburgh was founded.

The enterprise was an utter failure; the climate was found to be a
deadly one, and famine was imminent; many died, and there was general
sickness and debility. Under instructions from the home government, the
governors of English West India settlements issued proclamations,
denouncing the Scottish colonists as pirates, and interdicting supplies
and communications. The Spaniards, claiming the land as theirs, were
fitting out hostile armaments. Finding that to remain meant nothing
short of extermination, all who were left took to their ships; drifting
almost at the mercy of winds and waves, they arrived at the Hudson
river. A second expedition of 1300 men landed to find ruins and a
solitude, and to meet a similar fate.

Glencoe had largely weakened the popularity of William in Scotland, and
his hostile action towards the Darien scheme excited hatred and
disloyalty. Jacobitism, instead of wearing itself out, became more
deeply rooted and more formidable. The golden link of the crown, which
during the seventeenth century had been the only official tie between
the two nations, seemed a fragile one; and the King saw, with the
prescience of a statesman, that there must either be closer union, or
entire separation. He could see that—comparatively weak as Scotland was—
its influence might, under a foreign complication, have to be deducted
from the strength of England.

In February, 1702, William met with the accident—a fall from his horse—
which resulted in his death. When he knew that his end was approaching
he sent his last message under his sign-manual to Parliament,
recommending the union of the kingdoms; it would be a comfort to him if
Parliament would favourably consider the matter. The Commons agreed to
consider the King’s message on the 7th of March—on that day he was in
_extremis_—dying in the night.

Then Anne, William’s sister-in-law, reigned. The Scots were still
irritable over the English treatment of the Darien scheme, and their
Parliament passed what was called _The Act of Security_. By this act it
was ordained that the English successor to the then reigning sovereign,
would not be adopted by Scotland, unless there was free trade between
the two countries, and the internal affairs of Scotland thoroughly
secured from English influence. The Queen’s High Commissioner refused
the royal assent to this defiant measure, and the English House of Peers
passed a resolution, that a dangerous plot existed in Scotland for the
overthrow of the Protestant succession in that nation. The Scots highly
resented this resolution, declaring it to be an unauthorised
interference with the concerns of an independent kingdom. The Estates
refused to grant supplies, and ordered the disciplining, by monthly
drills, of all men capable of bearing arms. The reply of the English
Parliament was, by the enactment of fresh restrictions upon Scottish
trade with England and its colonies, and by ordering the border towns of
Newcastle, Berwick, and Carlisle to be fortified and garrisoned.

But the queen had in her minister, Earl Godolphin, a wise and sagacious
statesman; by his advice she gave in 1704, her assent to the Act of
Security. And the English Parliament empowered the queen to nominate
commissioners to discuss with commissioners appointed by the Scottish
estates terms of a treaty of union between the two nations. Thirty
commissioners were thus appointed on each side; ostensibly they
represented all parties; but Godolphin’s powerful influence was so
exerted in the selection, that not only was there a majority on both
sides in favour of union, but also for that union being favourable to
England. There is more than mere suspicion that English money was freely
given, and English promises of personal advancement were largely made,
to induce the Scottish Commissioners to agree to terms which were
certainly unjust to Scotland.

The numerical proportion of its population, entitled Scotland to send
sixty-six members to a united House of Commons; but the number was
restricted to forty-five. Of the Scottish nobility, not one was to be
entitled by right of title or of possessions, to sit in the House of
Lords; but there were to be sixteen representative peers. For the
English bishops holding seats in the upper house, there was to be no
Scottish counterpart. The Scottish nobles on the Commission were tempted
to agree to the ignominious position their order was to be placed in by
the promise that themselves would be created _British peers_, with
hereditary seats in the Lords. Scotland was to pay a fair proportion of
the general taxation. She was to retain her Presbyterian Church, and her
own civil and municipal laws and institutions.

When the articles of the proposed treaty as arranged by the joint
Commission were published, there was in Scotland a general outburst of
rage and mortification. It seemed as if they were to make a voluntary
surrender of their dearly bought independence,—a descent from their
position as a free nation, into that of a mere province. When the
Scottish Parliament met in October, 1706, the whole country was in a
state of dangerous excitement. Addresses against the proposed terms of
union were sent from every county and town, from almost every parish in
the kingdom. In some towns, copies of the Articles of Union were
publicly burned. Edinburgh was in a state of wild tumult; the High
Commissioner was hooted; the Provost, who was known to favour the
obnoxious treaty, had his house wrecked. In the House of Parliament
there were fierce debates, “resembling,” said an eye witness, “not a
mere strife of tongues, but the clash of arms.” The opposition, headed
by the Duke of Hamilton, did all they could to hinder the measure;
finding their resistance ineffectual, they retired from the parliament
house, and, clause by clause, the articles of treaty were formally
passed by the compliant majority.

In March, 1707, the English parliament ratified the Treaty of Union, and
on the 1st of May ensuing, it came into operation. It had been carried
through the Scottish Parliament by transparent venality, and under
popular disfavour. It was inaugurated in Scotland with sullen
discontent, and for six years it was there the ruling passion to
discredit and decry it. And so far its results had not contradicted evil
forebodings. As had been feared, the very slender representation of
Scotland in the Imperial Parliament, gave it only a weak voice in
legislature. The English treason laws, and malt-tax were extended to
Scotland. The Scottish representatives in the Commons complained that
they were not treated as equals by their fellow-members—not as
representing a free nation, the equal of England in its rights and
privileges, but a subjugated and dependent province. Sneers at their
country, and sarcasms on their own accent, manners, and appearance, were
daily met with by men who were proud of their native land, and in that
land had been accorded the respect due to gentlemen of birth, breeding,
and education. And Scottish noblemen, who had not been elected on the
representative sixteen, but had been created _British Peers_ by the
sovereign, were, by a resolution of the House of Lords, refused seats in
that House.

In 1713, the Scottish members in both Houses,—and who included within
their ranks men of all political parties—Revolution Whigs, and Tory
advocates of kingly prerogative, Jacobites and adherents of the House of
Hanover,—unanimously resolved to move in parliament the repeal of the
Act of Union, on the grounds that it had failed in the good results
which had been anticipated from it. And in the then state of parties in
England, there seemed a fair chance of carrying the proposed abrogation.
For the Whigs, who had been the dominant party, from the Revolution to
1710, when they were ousted from office, were now—although they had been
the active promoters of the Union—prepared to do anything to cripple the
government. The defence of the Union now rested with the Tories, who had
strenuously opposed it, and obstructed it at every stage.

On the 1st of June, the motion for repeal was brought up in the House of
Lords, and after a warm debate was rejected by a majority of only four
votes. So, happily for both countries, the Union had farther trial; and
as in the generality of prognostications of evil, as the resultant of
political or social change, time has proved their falsity. Under the
Union, Scotland advanced in material prosperity, and as a nation she has
fully maintained her national prestige. Scotsmen have ever taken an
active part—at times a leading part—in imperial affairs. In diplomacy
and in war, in science and invention, in literature and art, in
philosophy and trading enterprise, Scotsmen have been well in line with
men of the other nationalities which together constitute the United
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.


                     The Jacobite Risings of 1715.

Queen Anne was not a woman of strong intellect, but simple and homely in
her tastes; weakly obstinate, like the Stuart race. In the earlier years
of her reign, with the Whigs in power, she was under the stronger will
of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough; in the later years, when the Tories
held office, she was largely ruled by a Mrs. Masham. Her domestic story
was a painful one. She passed through a motherhood of nineteen children,
nearly all of whom died in infancy, only one son reaching the age of
eleven years. Her husband, Prince George of Denmark, was the very
embodiment of dulness and stupidity. King James, his father-in-law, said
of him, “I have tried George drunk, and I have tried him sober; drunk or
sober there is nothing in him.” He took no part in public affairs. He
died in 1708, and Anne, widowed, childless, and in broken health, was as
lonely a woman as any within the three kingdoms which acknowledged her

There is no doubt that after she had lost all her own children, her
sympathies were with her father’s son, generally known as _The
Pretender_. She felt more and more as her life was ebbing to its end,
that she had not been a dutiful daughter. In her own loneliness she must
have had abiding thoughts of her young brother, expatriated from his
father-land. Whilst she was living in royal estate, he, the legitimate
heir of that estate, was a homeless waif,—ever tantalized by fruitless
hopes and longings. What to her was this second cousin in Hanover,—a
foreigner by birth and in all his interests? She was horror-stricken at,
and absolutely refused to sanction, a Whig proposal, that Elector George
should be invited to visit Britain, and make some acquaintance with the
country which he was one day to rule over.

Anne’s two leading ministers—Oxford and Bolingbroke, at one in their
Jacobite proclivities, were yet at personal variance. At a council
meeting, on 27th July, 1714, at which the queen was present, they had a
fierce quarrel, and, under the joint influence of Bolingbroke and Mrs.
Masham, the Queen dismissed Oxford from office. But the triumph of
Bolingbroke was short-lived, for the stormy council meeting so acted on
the queen, that she next day fell into a lethargy, from which—with brief
intervals of semi-consciousness—she never rallied.

On the 30th of July, when it was known that the queen was sinking, two
Whig lords, the Dukes of Somerset and Argyle, took upon themselves, in
virtue of their position as privy-councillors, to attend unsummoned the
council board. They found the ministers in a state of utter perplexity
and alarm; humble enough to agree to a proposal that in the present
grave crisis, the queen should be asked to confer the premiership upon
the Duke of Shrewsbury. He had taken a leading part in the revolution,
been one of William’s chief secretaries of state, and was much respected
by both parties. The dying queen gave, by a sign, her consent to his
receiving the staff of office. That feeble sign was the last public
action of the Stuart dynasty. Anne died on the 1st of August, and next
day the Elector of Hanover,—through his mother and grandmother, a great
grandson of James I.,—was, as George the First, proclaimed king in

The new king, knowing that the Whigs were his best friends, formed his
ministry from their ranks. Three of Anne’s ministers, Oxford,
Bolingbroke, and the Duke of Ormond, were impeached for high treason;
Oxford was sent to the Tower; Bolingbroke and Ormond escaped to the
Continent, where they joined the councils of the Pretender. The Tory
party, although out of official power, comprised the bulk of the
landowners, the clergy, and the learning of England; and the popular
mind—as shewn in tumultuous crowds, cheering Jacobite speeches, and
burning effigies of King William—was largely reactionary.

As tidings of British agitation and discontent were wafted across the
Channel, so rose the hopes of the Pretender and his little court of
adherents at St. Germains. Vessels were equipped at Havre and Dieppe,
with arms and ammunition. The Pretender’s plan of operations turned upon
the Duke of Ormond making a landing in England, and the Duke of Berwick
in Scotland. The latter, a natural son of James II., by a sister of the
Duke of Marlborough, had a high military reputation, and if he had had
the general direction of the movement, the results might have been
different. But on the 6th of September, 1715, the Earl of Mar, without
any commission from the Pretender, set up his standard at Braemar, and
proclaimed him King of Scotland.

Mar had got up Highland games and hunting expeditions, and being an
eloquent speaker, he inflamed the minds of the chieftains with sanguine
hopes of a successful issue to a general rising. Ten thousand men
rallied round the flag of rebellion. And in Northumberland, under the
Earl of Derwentwater, and Mr. Foster, a county member of Parliament,
there was a simultaneous rising. Mar sent a thousand Highlandmen in aid;
on their way they were joined by several noblemen and gentlemen of the
south of Scotland. The little Northumbrian army marched into Lancashire,
and occupied Preston; attacked there by royal troops, they, after an
obstinate defence, surrendered.

Meanwhile, Mar, after occupying Perth, marched to join the English
insurgents. At Sheriffmuir, near Dunblane, he was met by a royalist
force under the Duke of Argyle, and on the same day as the surrender at
Preston, a battle was fought. The left wing of both armies defeated its
opponents; so it was technically a drawn battle. But it was tantamount
to a rebel defeat; next morning Argyle occupied the field of action; Mar
had retired to Perth. On December 22nd, the Pretender arrived in a small
vessel at Peterhead. He made a quasi-royal progress to Perth, having
himself proclaimed as James the Eighth in all the towns he passed
through. Of a handsome person, he could be courteous in his manners; but
he lacked animation; his general expression was sombre and uninviting,
not one to raise enthusiasm in men engaged in a desperate enterprise. He
entered Perth on 9th January, 1716, taking up his quarters at Scone, and
giving instructions for his coronation.

But the dream of the crown, which had tantalized the prince from
boyhood, vanished into thin air before the stern realities around him.
Mar’s army was dispirited by inaction, and melting away by desertions.
Argyle had been reinforced by English troops and Dutch auxiliaries, and
had had a field-train from Berwick. On January 30th, he was in sight of
Perth. The prospect of a battle raised the spirits of the clansmen, but
the leaders had seen for weeks that their enterprise was hopeless, and
Mar ordered a retreat. It had been an especially cold winter, the Tay,
instead of being a strongly flowing river, was then a frozen highway,
and in sullen discontent, the clans crossed over and began their
retreat. They marched in good order, unmolested by Argyle. In four days
they had reached Montrose, _en route_ for Aberdeen; there, it was
promised them they would meet a large body of French troops, and again,
with bright hopes of success, march southwards.


On February 4th, the retreat was to be continued; the carriage and
mounted guards of the prince were waiting before the gateway of his
lodgings, but no prince appeared. He had slunk off by a back-way and,
with the Earl of Mar, Lord Drummond, and the _gentlemen_ of his suite,
gone on board a small vessel in the harbour, lying ready for their
reception. It was, perhaps, the meanest desertion by the leaders of a
warlike enterprise in all history. The prince left a sealed letter, to
be opened in Aberdeen. Its contents were found to be formal thanks for
faithful services, _permission_ to choose between dispersion, and as a
body coming to terms with the enemy; and apprizing the men that their
pay had now ceased. There was an outburst of rage and mortification, and
then the clans, under great privations, sought their native glens and
villages; the leaders tried to make their escape to the continent from
the northern sea-ports.

During the twelve years of Anne’s reign there was not a single execution
for treason, but now the headsman and hangman were again at work. Of
those who took part in the English insurrection, the Earl of
Derwentwater, Lord Kenmore, and about twenty other persons were
executed. Foster and several others made rather marvellous escapes from
prison. In Scotland about forty families of note lost their estates. But
a trick of the government, in ordering that the commission for the trial
of the Scottish rebels should sit in Carlisle, raised such a cry of
injustice, and of being an infringement of the Articles of Union, that
the accused were given to understand that if they did not challenge the
authority of the Court, they would be mercifully dealt with. The result
was, that although twenty-four were condemned, not one of them was

After the native efforts of Jacobitism in 1715 had resulted in utter
failure, it had certain glimmerings of success through foreign
complications. King George never became in heart, in habits, or in
policy, an Englishman. In his Hanoverian policy he embroiled Britain
with Sweden and Spain. He purchased from the King of Denmark the duchies
of Bremen and Verden, which duchies the King of Sweden—the redoubtable
Charles XII.—claimed as his own. Charles now proposed to place himself
at the head of a confederacy, to dethrone King George, and put the
Pretender in his place. His idea was, to land with 10,000 men in the
north of Scotland, to call upon the highland clans to again rally round
a Jacobite standard, and, with the co-operation of a Spanish fleet, to
march into England. It is one of the might-have-beens with which history
abounds. But a cannon shot at the siege of Frederickshall, in 1718,
ended the erratic course of Charles.

Next year the Pretender was received with royal honours at Madrid, and
an expedition of ten ships of war, with 6,000 troops and much warlike
stores on board, was placed under the command of the Duke of Ormond, and
sailed for Scotland. A violent storm off Cape Finisterre scattered the
expedition. Two frigates landed 300 men at Lewis; these surrendered to
the royal troops sent against them. This same year the Pretender married
a Polish princess; by her he had two sons,—Charles Edward, and Henry


                         The Rebellion of 1745.

In 1724, the government sent Marshal Wade into the Highlands to take
measures to enforce law and order, and to facilitate military
communication. Wade was a man of good common sense, and he did his work
with tact and judgment. The clansmen were disarmed; but commissions were
given to loyal chieftains to raise militia companies, to be disciplined
and trained in the use of arms. Some of these companies, as the
celebrated _Black Watch_, which became the 42nd regiment, were composed
of men in good social positions, as farmers, tacksmen, and sons of
highland gentlemen. And Wade employed his soldiers to construct, under
skilful supervision, well-formed roads, connected together, and more
direct. A memorable distich was posted up near Fort-William:—

         “Had you seen those roads before they were made,
         You would hold up your hands and bless General Wade.”

On the surface the Highlands were quiet, and were being brought more and
more within the pale of British citizenship. Sheriffs held their courts
in all the northern shires; schools were established in every parish;
farmers and breeders had better access to fairs and markets, and
hillside cottars to their Kirks. But the embers of Jacobitism still
smouldered; the chiefs had no liking for these German Georges, and the
clansmen would still follow their chieftain’s leadership.

But there was no special agitation or disquietude in the Highlands when,
on the 25th of July, 1745, Prince Charles Edward landed on the south-
west coast of Inverness-shire, and asked the neighbouring chiefs to join
him in a new rebellion. He came, personally a stranger in the land, with
a suite of seven gentlemen, to conquer a throne from which, fifty-seven
years previously, his grandfather had been driven with ignominy and
disgrace. There must have been a charm of person and manners in the
prince—now in his twenty-fifth year—by which he won the hearts, and,
even against their judgments, the enthusiastic support of the chiefs,
who met him with the intention of persuading him to return to France. He
lives in Scottish song and story as “Bonnie Prince Charlie”—the idol of
the clansmen.


Some leading chiefs as MacDonald of Sleat and MacLeod of MacLeod,
declined to join the enterprise; but one man of foremost note—Cameron of
Lochiel—declared for the prince, and sent out a gathering summons to
arms. About two thousand men saluted the standard when, on August 19th,
it was set up at Glenfinnan. On the 3rd of September, the prince entered
Perth; a fortnight later he was in Edinburgh. The magistrates had tried
to organize a volunteer defence of the city; but when the words passed
round, “the Highlanders are in sight,” the gates were opened. But the
castle held out for King George.

Sir John Cope, the Commander of the royal forces in Scotland had, at the
news of the rebellion, gone with 1500 men into the Highlands; but,
evading the prince’s forces, he took shipping at Aberdeen, landed at
Dunbar, and with reinforcements, marched on Edinburgh. The prince met
him at Prestonpans, eight miles east of Edinburgh, and a battle was
there fought on the morning of 21st September. The rush of the
highlanders, with broadsword and target, here, as at Killiecrankie,
carried the day. The royal troops were completely routed, and their
artillery, baggage, and military chest fell to the victors.

The prince returned to Edinburgh amidst popular acclamations. His
adventure had now assumed a more serious aspect. For a time it seemed as
if the whole of Scotland,—except the castles of Edinburgh and Stirling,
and the highland garrisons—was at his feet. Dundee and Perth were held
by highland contingents; Glasgow was subjected to a payment of £5,000.
But it was six weeks before, from other highland clans coming in, and
from lowland enlistments, his army mustered 5,500 men. At Holyrood balls
and festivities, he courteously enacted the royal host. On October 31st,
he began his march southwards, entering England by the western border.
He took Carlisle, passed through Preston, Wigan, and Manchester,
arriving at Derby on 4th December. The march was in two divisions; the
front division was commanded by Lord George Murray, a thorough soldier
in courage and ability. The rear division was led by the prince
himself,—generally in highland garb, his target on his shoulder.

At Derby the prince might have said with Henry of Lancaster:—

                “Thus far into the bowels of the land,
                Have we marched on without impediment.”

But what next—and next? A larger and better appointed army than his own,
commanded by the Duke of Cumberland, was at Lichfield, only twenty-five
miles to the south-west; another army, equal in numbers to his own,
under Marshal Wade, was marching down on his rear through Yorkshire. The
general opinion of a Council of War was for retreat. The prince at first
refused his assent; he sulked over it for a day, and then gave in with a
bad grace, saying he would call no more Councils of War, but act
entirely on his own judgment. Early next morning—the 6th of December—the
cheerless retreat began.

The very audacity of the irruption into England fostered an idea in the
minds of both friends and enemies that the prince had some secret but
well-founded assurance of powerful support, which in due time would
reveal itself. But the idea was seen to be baseless when the highland
brogues began to retrace the northern roads. In passing through
Manchester on the march, there had been bonfires, acclamations, hand-
kissing, and a display of white cockades. Ten days later, in the
retreat, there was in Manchester a mob-demonstration against the
highlanders; when they left the town, their rear guard was hooted and
fired upon.



  _From a drawing made by Hogarth the morning before his Lordship’s


When the Duke of Cumberland learned of the retreat of the rebels, he
hastened against them with all his cavalry; but their rear-guard, under
Lord George Murray, gallantly repelled all attacks; and on 20th
December, the prince’s army was again on Scottish ground. After levying
contributions on Glasgow and Dumfries, he proceeded towards Stirling,
making the historical village of Bannockburn his headquarters. Here he
was joined by considerable reinforcements, including the clans Frazer,
Farquharson, MacKenzie, and Macintosh. Simon, Lord Lovat, the aged chief
of the Frazers, had been playing fast and loose, negotiating with the
Prince for a dukedom as the price of his support; at the same time
assuring the government of his loyalty, and asking for arms to enable
his clan to act against the rebels. In the end, he sent his son with 750
Frazers to join the princes standard; the crafty old fox himself
remaining at home in pretended neutrality. By the middle of January the
prince’s muster-roll reached its maximum—about 8,500 men.

The prince had opened trenches for a regular siege of Stirling Castle,
when he learned that General Hawley with 8,000 men, most of them
veterans from the French wars, was marching against him. Lord George
Murray—knowing that with such an army as that of the rebels, the chances
of success lay more in attack than defence—made a rapid march on Hawley.
On the afternoon of January 17th, a battle was fought on Falkirk Moor.
It was a wild fight, in a blinding storm of wind and rain. The darkening
mists prevented combined operations on both sides. Divisions of each
army drove back their immediate opponents, but themselves got into
disorder in pursuit. Hawley in belief of defeat, fired his tents, fell
back on Linlithgow, and next morning took his army to Edinburgh.

After the battle of Falkirk, the prince was for continuing the siege,
but such plodding work did not suit the Highlanders, and the chiefs
addressed a memorandum to him, advising retreat. He fumed and protested,
but had again to yield. On February 4th, the Forth was forded, and the
retreat began; it was a leisurely one, no royalist force of any
magnitude being in the Highlands. Inverness was occupied by the prince
on February 18th. Forts George and Augustus surrendered; Lord Loudon
took what royalist troops he could collect into Ross-shire, where they
were joined by the Whig MacDonalds.

The Duke of Cumberland came to Edinburgh, and organized an army. In
addition to his British troops, 6,000 Hessians were landed at Leith. The
army marched by Perth to Aberdeen. On the 8th of April, the Duke left
Aberdeen; on the 14th, he was at Nairn, 16 miles north of Inverness. His
troops numbered 9,000 men,—a compact, well-fed, well-disciplined army,
with full confidence in their leader, as a man of courage and large
military experience.

The prince had not expected that the duke would leave Aberdeen before
May, and his troops were scattered about. They had been for weeks in a
state of semi-starvation, and had to roam the country to find food for a
bare subsistence. The men were discontented for lack of pay; the leaders
were jealous and suspicious of each other; some of the clans claimed
special rights and precedences. It was a divided, a disheartened, almost
a demoralized army of 7,000 men which, on April 15th, stood, with barely
one ration for each man in the commissariat, upon Culloden Moor, about
four miles north-east of Inverness.

Unequally matched as the two armies would have been if they had met on
the 15th, they were much more so on the next day, when the battle
joined. For in the intervening night, a strategical misadventure
prostrated the spirit and weakened the efficiency of the prince’s army.
There was an abortive attempt at a night attack on the royalist camp.
After a long weary march, the rebel army failed to concentrate in time
for a night surprise; and, disheartened and fatigued, it marched back to
Culloden Moor. Here, many at once lay down to sleep, others scattered in
search of food. At noon of the 16th, the two armies confronted each

Lord George Murray was watching for the proper moment to attack, but,
without waiting for orders, the clans in the centre and right wings
rushed down with their broadswords, and in spite of a galling fire broke
through the front line of the enemy. But the second line had been
trained to resist a Highland onset; they reserved their fire until the
clansmen had almost reached the points of the bayonets, and then it told
with deadly effect. The broadswords could not penetrate the steady line
of bayonets; for the assailants it was either flight or death.

The three MacDonald regiments had been placed in the left wing of the
rebel army. They claimed the right wing, and even in the supreme moment
of battle, Highland pride predominated over military duty. They did not
respond to the order to advance, and retired upon the second line. And
now, a boundary wall on the prince’s right had been thrown down by the
Argyleshire Campbells, and a way made for the duke’s cavalry to operate
on the flank and rear. His main army advanced in compact order, and it
became a panic, and “save himself who can,” with the clansmen. The
MacDonalds and a portion of the second line retired in fair order; but
the duke’s cavalry cut off all stragglers; and all the wounded rebels on
the battlefield, even those who were next morning found alive, were—by
the duke’s orders it is said—savagely put to death.

And not with the fever-madness of battle did the savageries terminate.
Cumberland had at Carlisle, where the prince had unwisely left a small
garrison, begun a course of atrocity; and he now went over the
Highlands, a very demon of cruelty and destruction. This prince of the
blood-royal of England gave his soldiery licence to shoot in cold blood
the male inhabitants, to plunder the houses of the chieftains, to drive
off the cattle and burn the huts of the peasants; to outrage the women.
His ducal title ought to have died with him; for what man of honour or
common humanity but would feel it a disgrace to bear an appellation made
for ever infamous by the _Butcher of Culloden_?


And the penalties of law supplemented the work of the sword. Lords
Kilmarnock, Balmerino and Lovat, were beheaded on Tower Hill,—the last
deaths by decapitation in Britain. About a hundred persons were hanged
in Scotland, and fifty in England; hundreds were sent to the
plantations. Of course it had been rebellion, but so far as the rebels
were concerned, it had been a fair, stand-up fight; they had lost all
but honour. They had not been robbers, or guilty of violence towards
civilians; they had not maltreated their prisoners, but set them free on
parole, which was often broken. Humanity and sound policy might well
have spoken for mercy.

When the prince saw the enemy closing in upon his broken host, he may
have hesitated whether he should not stand and meet death, sword in
hand; but his friends took hold of his horse’s bridle and turned it from
the field. With few attendants he rode to Castle Downie, the residence
of Lord Lovat. On seeing the prince a fugitive, the crafty old man felt
the ground trembling under his own feet; so the prince had only a hasty
meal, and again rode on. He passed by Invergarry into the West
Highlands; there, and in the Western Isles, he was for over five months
a hunted outlaw. Government offered a reward of £30,000 for his capture;
yet, although one time and another hundreds knew of his whereabouts, not
one of these grasped at this, to them, fabulous amount, through
treachery. But the soldiery and unfriendly clansmen were vigilantly on
the outlook.

The prince had, in his wanderings, gone to the outer Hebrides, and was
lodged in a forester’s hut, in a cleft of the hills. General Campbell
landed at South Uist to make a minute search of the islands. The
MacDonalds of Skye were also there, engaged in the same task,—a hunt-
party of two thousand men. We can imagine the avidity of the search—the
warrant for a huge fortune might be found under any bracken bush on the
hillside,—within any clump of trees, or beneath any overhanging cliff.
When escape seemed impossible, a woman’s compassion and a woman’s wit
came to the rescue.


  _From a painting by Ramsay._

No feminine name is in Scotland more honoured or awakens higher thoughts
of courage and devotion than that of Flora MacDonald. She belonged to
the MacDonalds who were inimical to the prince, and was—when she came to
know of his straits—on a visit to the house of Sir Alexander MacDonald.
But she boldly asked the chief for a passport for herself, a man-
servant, and a maid-servant, to enable her to visit relatives in a
neighbouring island. The prince, dressed up as maid “Bridget,” shewed
awkward enough, but without detection the party reached the house of
MacDonald of Kingsburgh, to whom Flora was afterwards married. From
there the prince again reached the mainland.

Here he had, in a closely-watched district, several hair-breadth
escapes, and found that misery _does_ acquaint a man with strange
bedfellows! One refuge was a robber’s cave, the other occupants being
outlawed cattle-stealers. They knew the prince, and treated him with the
same loyal respect as, ten months previously, had been shewn him in the
halls of Holyrood. He was at length able to join Lochiel and other
outlawed adherents. Friends along the coast were watching for a French
vessel. One appearing on September 20th, nearly a hundred persons were
safely embarked. The prince is described as looking like the spectre of
his former self,—pale, haggard, and ragged. But his companions received
him with bonnets doffed and loyal salutations. Although chased by an
English cruiser, the vessel got safely to Marlaix, in Brittany.

[Illustration: _Ye Ende_]




 Aberdeen, Old, 152;
   Candlemas procession in, 153;
   reception of James IV. in, 153;
   church utensils, public sale of, 156;
   English players in, 157;
   early closing of taverns at, 158;
   fines for non-attendance at church, 158;
   trials for witchcraft in, 164

 _Act of Security_, The, 272

 Administration of effects, Provisions for the, 149

 Agricola in Britain, 4

 Alaric takes Rome, 10

 Alexander III., King, 41

 Alfred, King, Danish conflicts of, 39

 Angles give their name to South Britain, 19

 Anglican Church, Origin of the, 88

 Anglo-Saxon Heptarchy, The, 21

 Anne, Queen, reign of, 272;
   her domestic history, 279;
   favours the Pretender, 280;
   her death, 281

 Argyle, Earl of, sentenced to death, 231;
   his insurrection, 240;
   execution of, 241

 Argyle, Marquis of, his execution, 212

 Arminius defeats the Romans, 10

 Assembly, General, in Glasgow, 182

 Assembly of Divines in Westminster, 192

 Athelstane, King, 41

 Augustine, Mission of, 22

 Baliol nominated King by Edward I., 65

 Barons’ sons, The education of, 114

 Battle of Bannockburn, 71

 ” Brunanberg, 41

 ” Culloden, 299

 ” Drumclog, 223

 ” Dunbar, 200

 ” Falkirk, 297

 ” Hastings, 53

 ” Killiecrankie, 261

 ” Prestonpans, 292

 ” Sedgemoor, 237

 ” Sheriff-muir, 283

 ” Stamford Bridge, 53

 ” The Standard, 58

 ” Worcester, 203

 Beaton, Cardinal, Murder of, 90

 Berwick, The Duke of, 282

 Bishops, Seven, Arrest and Trial of, 250

 Bishops, _Tulchan_, in Scotland, 179

 “Black Watch,” Composition of the, 289

 “Bloody Assize,” The, 238

 Boadicea, Queen, defeated by the Romans, 4

 Boot, Torture of the, 218

 Borders, The, long disorderly, 77

 Bothwell Bridge, Battle of, 225;
   cruel treatment of prisoners taken at, 227

 _Bretwalda_, an Anglo-Saxon dignity, 21

 Britain, Invasion of, by Julius Cæsar, 1;
   the second invasion and conquest, 3;
   as a Roman province, 12;
   the Roman evacuation, 16;
   barbarian raids on, 17;
   the Anglo-Saxons in, 19;
   Danish invasions of, 38

 British Churches, Ancient, differences between, 24

 Brown, John, Cruel murder of, 228

 Bruce, Robert, his contest for the crown, 68;
   his army before Stirling, 69;
   his victory at Bannockburn, 72

 Burgh Court of Dundee, old records of, 134;
   justice done in the, 135;
   assumed powers of life and death, 141

 Cæsar, Julius, Invasion of Britain by, 2

 Caledonians, The, 5

 Candlemas procession in Aberdeen, 153

 Canongate, The, its old memories, 124

 Canute, The Danish King, 46

 Caractacus defeated by the Romans, 4

 Catholic church utensils, Sale of, 156

 Catholic conversions under James II., 245

 Catholic worship, Stringent laws against, 116

 Celtic Language, The, 9

 Celts, Origin of the, 27

 Channel, Revolution expedition in the, 254

 Charles I., Scotland under, 178;
   endeavours to subvert Presbyterianism, 179;
   his game of _Thorough_, 184;
   at war with Parliament, 191;
   joins the Scottish army, 195;
   given up to Parliamentary army, 196;
   at Carisbrook Castle, 197

 Charles II. signs the Covenant, 199;
   is crowned at Scone, 201;
   defeated at Worcester, 203;
   the Restoration, 211;
   Scotland under, 213;
   establishes Episcopacy, 214;
   his death, 235

 Charles Edward, Prince, lands in Scotland, 290;
   in Edinburgh, 291;
   in Derby, 293;
   at Culloden, 298;
   wanderings and escape, 302

 Charles XII. of Sweden designs invading Britain, 287

 Churches, Ancient British, 24

 Civilization, Modern turning point in, 85

 Civil War, The, 191

 Claverhouse, Graham of, 223;
   defeated at Drumclog, 224;
   his cruel revenge, 226;
   raises Highland clans in Jacobite cause, 260;
   his death at Killiecrankie, 262

 Columba settles in Iona, 32

 Commission to discuss terms of Union, 273

 Constantius, The Emperor, 7

 Constantine, The Emperor, 8

 Conversion of the Anglo-Saxons, 22

 Conversion of the Picts, 33

 Cope, Sir John, defeated at Prestonpans, 292

 “Covenant,” Origin of the, 91

 Covenanters at Rullion Green, 217;
   at Drumclog, 223;
   at Bothwell Bridge, 225;
   persecutions of, 227;
   martyrs’ monument in Greyfriars’ churchyard, 247

 Cromwell in Scotland, 199;
   wins battle of Dunbar, 200;
   Scotland under, 206;
   his latter days, 207;
   his character, 207

 Culdees, The, 33

 Culloden, The Rebel army at, 298;
   the battle, 299;
   atrocities after the battle, 300

 Cumberland, Duke of, follows retreat of Rebel army from Derby, 294;
   marches against the Rebels, 297;
   wins battle of Culloden, 299;
   his savagery, 300

 Cures from holy wells, 167

 Dalrida, Scoto, Kingdom of, 31

 Dalziel persecutes the Covenanters, 216

 Danish invasions of Britain, The, 38

 Darien Scheme, The, 270;
   ends in disaster, 271

 Darnley, Lord, marries Queen Mary, 107;
   his murder, 108

 David I., King, 58

 Declaration of Indulgence, The, 248

 Declaration of Rights, The, 258

 “Defender of the Faith,” Title of, 87

 Derby, March of Rebels to, 293;
   retreat from, 294

 Derwentwater, Earl of, raises a rebellion, 283

 Dress regulations in Sixteenth Century, 150

 Druidism in Britain, 13

 Drumclog, Battle of, 223

 Drummond, Sir William, 83;
   his welcome of Charles I. to Edinburgh, 178

 Drunkenness, Punishments for, 145

 Dunbar, Battle of, 200

 Dunbar’s description of pageant in Aberdeen, 153

 Duncan, King, 55

 Dundee, History of Old, 134;
   Burgh Court records, 135;
   offences and punishments, 136;
   stormed by General Monk, 204

 Dunottar Castle, Siege of, 128

 Edgar the Peaceable, 42

 Edinburgh, Old, 111;
   a picturesque city, 112;
   early history of, 112;
   provisions against fire, 113;
   early schools, 114;
   after Flodden, 114;
   Mary’s entrance into, 117;
   quarrel of James VI. with, 120;
   James revisits, 122;
   resistance to episcopacy in, 182;
   occupied by Prince Charles Edward, 292

 Edinburgh Castle, 126;
   an ancient royal residence, 127;
   the regalia in, 127

 Edward, King, the elder, 40

 Edward the Confessor, 48

 Edward I., arbitrator on claims to Scottish crown, 64;
   decides for Baliol, 65;
   conquers Scotland, 66;
   his death, 68

 Edward II. invades Scotland, 69;
   is defeated at Bannockburn, 71

 Effects, Administration of, 149

 Elizabeth becomes Queen of England, 105;
   her hatred of Mary, 106;
   causes Mary’s execution, 109;
   comparison of the two queens, 109

 Ella, Landing of, 19

 Emma, Queen, 46

 England and Scotland, Strained relations between, 273;
   Union of, 276

 English, Preparation against attacks by the, 155

 English Reformation, Causes of the, 86

 English and Scottish Churches, Difference between, 90

 English and Scottish Parliaments, Different constitution of, 74

 Episcopacy introduced into Scotland by Charles I., 179

 Ethelbert, Conversion of, 22

 Ethelred the Unready, 44

 Falkirk, Battle of, 299

 Feudalism in Britain, 73

 Field-preaching in Scotland, 214

 Folk-speech, Scottish, 84

 Foster, Mr., heads a Jacobite rising, 283

 Gaelic language, The, 29

 Geddes, Jenny, throws her stool, 180

 George I., Accession of, 281

 Glasgow, General assembly in, 182;
   fined by Prince Charles Edward, 296

 Glencoe, Massacre of, 264;
   resolution on by the Scottish estates, 269

 Godwin, Earl, 48;
   his banishment, 49;
   his return, 50

 Graham of Claverhouse, 223

 Grampians, Battle of the, 5

 Halley, General, defeated at Falkirk, 297

 “Hand-fasting” in Scotland, 173

 Hardicanute, King, 47

 Harold, Earl, maltreated by William of Normandy, 50;
   his high character, 51;
   chosen king, 52;
   defeats the Norsemen at Stamford Bridge, 53;
   defeated and slain at Hastings, 54

 Hastings, Battle of, 54

 Henry VIII., his domestic history, 86;
   his evil character, 87;
   effects the English Reformation, 88;
   demands Mary for his son’s wife, 102

 Heptarchy, The Anglo-Saxon, 21

 Heresy (Lutheran), Act of Parliament against, 155

 Highlanders mode of fighting, 261;
   advance into England, 293;
   in retreat, 294

 “Highland Host, The,” 220

 Highlands long disorderly, 76;
   under General Wade, 289

 Holyrood, History of, 129;
   Queen Mary’s apartments in, 130;
   gallery of ancient kings in, 35;
   the church, 132

 Holy Wells in Scotland, 166;
   associated with certain saints, 167;
   pilgrimages to, 167;
   at St. Fillans, 168;
   at Musselburgh, 168;
   at Muthill near Crieff, 169;
   at Strathnaven, 169;
   at Spa near Aberdeen, 170;
   pilgrimages to denounced by the Strathbogie Presbytery, 170

 Ill-fame, Houses of, forbidden, 148

 Images in churches, Demolition of, 99

 Immorality, Penalties for, 145

 Indulgence, Declaration of, 248

 Inverness occupied by the rebels, 297

 Iona, Historical importance of, 33

 Ireland, The old races in, 30;
   Patrick’s mission in, 32

 Irish troops in London, 252

 Jacobite risings in 1715, 279

 James I., his high character, 78;
   a poet, 82;
   his wise laws, 113

 James III. patronises poets, 129

 James IV. and Sir David Lindsay, 130;
   his entry with his queen into Edinburgh, 114;
   into Aberdeen, 153

 James V. dying at Mary’s birth, 102

 James VI., proclaimed king, 118;
   supposed to be under witchcraft, 161;
   quarrels with Edinburgh, 120;
   becomes James I. of England, 122;
   revisits Edinburgh, 123;
   his method of arguing with the Puritans, 185

 James, Duke of York, fights the Dutch at sea, 236;
   in Scotland, 230;
   as king attempts to re-establish popery, 242;
   issues the declaration of indulgence, 248;
   sends seven bishops to the Tower, 249;
   has a son born, 250;
   retracts unpopular measures, 253;
   his flight, 255;
   his throne declared vacant, 257;
   Scotland under, 246

 James the Pretender joins the rising of 1715, 284;
   makes arrangements for his coronation, 284;
   deserts his adherents, 286

 Jeffreys, the infamous Judge, 232, 238

 Jougs, The, 149

 Justice, Good, done in Burgh Courts, 135

 Jutes first landing in Britain, 17

 Kenneth Macalpine, King of Scots, 36

 Killiecrankie, Battle of, 261

 “Kings’ Quhair, The,” 81

 Knox, John, his early life, 91;
   preaching at Perth, 92;
   admonishes Queen Mary, 96;
   his strong character, 98

 Landowners bound for their tenants attending church, 220

 Latin a spoken language in Britain, 8

 Lauderdale, Persecutions of Lord, 219

 Lent observances after the Reformation, 157

 Leslie, General, at Dunbar, 200

 Lindsay, Sir David, 130

 Lisle, Alice, Execution of, 238

 Literature, The older Scottish, 80

 Lochiel, Adherence of to Prince Charles, 291

 Logarithms, Invention of, by Napier, 123

 Long Parliament, The, 190

 Lothians, People of the, 80

 Lovat, Lord, his double dealing, 296;
   his execution, 301

 Lowland folk-speech, 84

 Luther’s heresies, An act against, 155

 Macbeth, King, 55

 Macdonald, Flora, aids the escape of Prince Charles, 304

 Macdonalds of Glencoe, Order to extirpate the, 267;
   treacherous murders of, 268

 Macdonalds, The, at Culloden, 299

 MacIan of Glencoe, 265;
   takes the oath of allegiance, 266;
   his murder, 268

 Mackay, General, defeated at Killiecrankie, 261

 Magus Muir, Tragedy of, 222

 Maid of Norway, The, 64

 “Maiden,” The, 119

 Malcolm II., King, 54

 Malcolm, III., _Canmore_, 56;
   marries Margaret, sister of Edgar Atheling, 57

 Malcolm IV., _The Maiden_, 59

 Mar, Earl of, raises a rebellion in 1715, 282;
   is checked at Sheriffmuir, 283;
   deserts his army at Montrose, 286

 Margaret, queen of Malcolm Canmore, 57

 Marriage, Scottish customs, 172;
   lax notions on, 174;
   restrictions on, 175;
   unlucky months for, 172;
   a woman’s outfit, 175

 Mary of Guise, regent of Scotland, 90

 Mary, Queen of England, 104

 Mary, Queen of Scots, Childhood of, 102;
   sent to France, and marries the Dauphin, 103;
   returns to Scotland, 116;
   her entry into Edinburgh, 117;
   marries Lord Darnley, 106;
   her sad after-history, 109;
   compared with Elizabeth, 110;
   her apartments in Holyrood, 130

 Masham, Mrs., Influence of over Queen Anne, 279

 Massacre of Glencoe, The, 264

 McKail, Hugh, Execution of, 218

 Monmouth, Duke of, defeats the Covenanters at Bothwell Bridge, 225;
   his Moderation, 226;
   his own Rebellion, 237

 Monk, General, storms Dundee, 204;
   completes Cromwell’s subjugation of Scotland, 206;
   restores the Stuarts, 211

 “Mons Meg” at Edinburgh Castle, 126

 Montrose, the Marquis of, 194

 Morton, Regent of Scotland, 118;
   accused of being accessory to Darnley’s murder, 118;
   his execution by the _Maiden_, 119

 Murray, Lord George, leads the rebel march to Derby in 1745, 293

 Musselburgh, Holy-well at, 168

 Napier of Merchiston invents logarithms, 123

 Nationalism, English and Scottish, 81

 Newcastle held by the Scots, 183

 Night offences specially punished, 139

 Normandy a Danish Conquest, 44

 Norsemen hold North of Scotland, 54

 Northumbria the chief power, 23

 Offences and their punishments in the sixteenth century, 134

 Oswald, King of Northumbria, becomes _Bretwalda_, 23;
   his conversion, 23

 Oxford declares for the royal supremacy, 244;
   is “hoist by its own petard,” 244

 Oysters, penalty for giving false price to, 154

 Parliament, The Long, 190

 Parliament declares James’s throne vacant, 257;
   agrees to William and Mary’s joint sovereignty, 258

 Parliaments in England and Scotland, 74

 Paterson, William, floats the Darien scheme, 270;
   the total failure, 271

 Patrick, the Saint of Ireland, 32

 Penny Weddings, 173

 Perth in Jacobite occupation in 1715, 283;
   the retreat from, 284

 “Petition of Right,” The, 184

 Picts, first mention of the, 6;
   origin of the, 28;
   conversion of, 33;
   coalesce with the Scots, 36

 Players, Reception of in Aberdeen, 157.

 Poetry, The older Scottish, 81

 Pope, Henry VIII. quarrels with the, 88

 Popery, Protestant intolerance towards, 116

 Presbyterian Church of Scotland, distinctive features of, 94;
   its influence on Scottish character, 95;
   bareness of its forms of worship, 100;
   its fight against episcopacy, 181

 Presbyterianism in England, 193

 Prestonpans, Battle of, 292

 Pretender, Birth of the, 250;
   in the rebellion of 1715, 284;
   birth of his two sons, 288

 Protestantism established in England, 88;
   in Scotland, 92

 “Protestant wind,” A, watched for, 253

 Psalms and paraphrases in the Kirk, 100

 Punishments in the sixteenth century, 135;
   for speaking, falsely of burgh officers, 136;
   for slander, 136;
   for “flyting,” 137;
   of having to pay for healing hurts, 138;
   of banishment from the town, 140;
   of scourging through the town, 141;
   of death under burgh laws, 141;
   of restitution, 142;
   when there was “vehement suspicion,” 142;
   of forfeiting the right to wear swords, 143;
   for drunkenness, 145;
   for immorality, 148

 Puritans, the English, 184;
   browbeaten by James I., 185;
   their Old Testament leanings, 208

 Queen of Charles I., evil influence of, 186

 Queens, The rival, Mary and Elizabeth, 102;
   their relationship, 105

 Rebellion, Jacobite, of 1715, 283;
   Executions following the, 286

 Rebellion of 1745, 289;
   atrocities and executions following, 300

 Reformation, The, in England and Scotland, 85;
   in danger from James II., 242

 Regalia, the ancient Scottish, 127;
   the present, 127;
   its adventures, 128;
   after the Union to remain in Edinburgh, 128;
   supposed loss, search for, and recovery, 128

 Regencies disastrous to Scotland, 75

 Regicides, Execution of the, 212

 Religion in Scotland under Charles I., 181;
   under Cromwell, 209;
   under Charles II., 214

 Renwick, the last covenanting martyr, 248

 Revolution, The, of 1688, 252

 Rizzio, David, Murder of, 108

 Roman invasion of Britain, 3;
   rule in Britain, 12;
   Empire divided, 9;
   fall of the Western Empire, 11;
   Evacuation, 16

 Rome taken by Alaric, 10

 Rullion Green, Fight at, 217

 Russell, Sir William, Execution of, 233

 Ryehouse Plot, The, 233

 Sabbath-breaking, Penalties for, 158

 Saints associated with Holy-wells, 167

 “Saxon shore,” The, 15

 _Scotia_, an old name of Ireland, 29

 Scotland, how it became a free nation, 63;
   under Charles I., 178;
   under Cromwell, 199;
   under Charles II., 211;
   under James II., 236;
   “Company of,” 270;
   union with England, 270

 Scottish Kings:—The Mythical, 35;
   Fergus, 35;
   Kenneth Macalpine, 36;
   Malcolm II., 54;
   Duncan, 55;
   Macbeth, 55;
   Malcolm III., 56;
   David I., 58;
   Malcolm IV., 59;
   William, 59;
   Alexander III., 61;
   Baliol, 65;
   Robert Bruce, 72;
   James I., 78, 81;
   James III., 129;
   James IV., 130;
   James VI., 116

 Scottish Nation, Rise of the, 26;
   Parliament a single chamber, 74;
   Nobles, quarrels amongst, 75;
   Nationalism pronounced, 81;
   Reformation, a struggle with authority, 90;
   Convention declare James’s throne vacant, 259

 Scoto-Irish piracies, 15

 Scots first found in Ireland, 29;
   lesser number of than of Picts, 36;
   “King of,” the title of the sovereign, 72

 “Security, Act of,” 272

 Sedgemoor, Battle of, 237

 Sharp, Archbishop, Murder of, 221

 Sheriff-Muir, Battle of, 283

 Sheriffs in Scotland, Education of, 114

 Shipmoney, Levy of, 187

 Springs of mineral waters become holy wells, 167

 St. Fillans, Well of, 168

 St. Giles, The saint’s statue in, removed, 115;
   farewell speech of James VI. in, 122;
   commotion in over new liturgy, 180

 St. Mary’s altar, Fines of lights for, 138

 Stair, Master of, author of Glencoe massacre, 265;
   punished by dismissal from office, 269

 Stamford Bridge, Battle of, 53

 Standard, Battle of the, 58

 Star-Chamber, The, 184

 Stocks, Punishment of the, 138

 Strafford, Execution of, 191

 Strathbogie Presbytery denounce pilgrimages to holy wells, 170

 Strathclyde, Kingdom of, 21

 Strathnaven, Holy well at, 169

 Stuarts, Family traits of the, 213;
   their claims to the English throne, 105;
   the last act of the dynasty, 281

 Superstition, Hard death of, 160

 Swearing, Penalties for, 147

 Sweden, Charles XII. of, 287

 Sweyn, The Danish King, 45

 Swords, Wearing of, led to crime, 143;
   disallowed after misuse, 144

 Test Oaths in Scotland, Evasion of, 245

 Teutonic rule, Spread of the, 18

 “Thorough,” The game of, 184

 Tory ministry of Queen Anne, 281

 Treason, English laws of, applied to Scotland, 276

 _Tulchan_ bishops in Scotland, 179

 Union of England and Scotland, William’s dying message in favour of,
   its terms, 274;
   opposition to in Scotland, 275;
   its accomplishment, 276;
   early years of the, 276;
   attempts to repeal the, 277;
   its good results, 278

 Wade, General, in the Highlands, 289

 Wallace, Sir William, 67

 War, The Civil, 191

 Wedding Feasts in Scotland, 172

 Westminster Assembly of Divines, The, 192

 William the Conqueror, 52

 William, Prince of Orange, invitation to, 252;
   his fleet in the Channel, 254;
   his landing and progress, 254;
   refuses the regency, 257;
   elected King and his wife Queen, 258;
   his tolerant policy, 262;
   signs order against the Macdonalds of Glencoe, 266;
   opposes the Darien Scheme, 271;
   his last message to Parliament, 272

 Witchcraft in Scotland, 160;
   in Aberdeen, 164

 Witches, An assize on in Edinburgh, 161

 Witchfinders, 163

 “Woo’d and married and a’” 176

 York, Early importance of, 7




                         WILLIAM ANDREWS & CO.,

                            THE HULL PRESS,



         +_SECOND EDITION. Bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo. 6s._+

                       Curiosities of the Church:

           Studies of Curious Customs, Services, and Records,

                     By WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,



Early Religious Plays: being the Story of the English Stage in its
    Church Cradle Days—The Caistor Gad-Whip Manorial Service—Strange
    Serpent Stories—Church Ales—Rush-Bearing—Fish in Lent—Concerning
    Doles—Church Scrambling Charities—Briefs—Bells and Beacons for
    Travellers by Night—Hour Glasses in Churches—Chained Books in
    Churches—Funeral Effigies—Torchlight Burials—Simple Memorials of the
    Early Dead—The Romance of Parish Registers—Dog Whippers and Sluggard
    Wakers—Odd Items from Old Accounts—A carefully compiled Index.


                            Press Opinions.

“A volume both entertaining and instructive, throwing much light on the
manners and customs of bygone generations of Churchmen, and will be read
to-day with much interest.”—_Newbery House Magazine._

“An extremely interesting volume.”—_North British Daily Mail._

“A work of lasting interest.”—_Hull Examiner._

“The reader will find much in this book to interest, instruct, and
amuse.”—_Home Chimes._

“We feel sure that many will feel grateful to Mr. Andrews for having
produced such an interesting book.”—_The Antiquary._

“A volume of great research and striking interest.”—_The Bookbuyer (New

“A valuable book.”—_Literary World (Boston, U.S.A.)._

“An admirable book.”—_Sheffield Independent._

“An interesting, handsomely got up volume.... Mr. Andrews is always
chatty and expert in making a paper on a dry subject exceedingly
readable.”—_Newcastle Courant._

“Mr. William Andrews’ new book, ‘Curiosities of the Church,’ adds
another to the series by which he has done so much to popularise
antiquarian studies.... The book, it should be added, has some quaint
illustrations, and its rich matter is made available for reference by a
full and carefully compiled index.”—_Scotsman._


        +_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., price 6s._+

                            Old Church Lore.

                     By WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,

    _Author of “Curiosities of the Church,” “Old-Time Punishments,”
                       “Historic Romance,” etc._


The Right of Sanctuary—The Romance of Trial—A Fight between the Mayor of
    Hull and the Archbishop of York—Chapels on Bridges—Charter Horns—The
    Old English Sunday—The Easter Sepulchre—St. Paul’s Cross—Cheapside
    Cross—The Biddenden Maids Charity—Plagues and Pestilences—A King
    Curing an Abbot of Indigestion—The Services and Customs of Royal Oak
    Day—Marrying in a White Sheet—Marrying under the Gallows—Kissing the
    Bride—Hot Ale at Weddings—Marrying Children—The Passing Bell—
    Concerning Coffins—The Curfew Bell—Curious Symbols of the Saints—
    Acrobats on Steeples—A carefully-prepared Index.


                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“A worthy work on a deeply interesting subject.... We commend this book
strongly.”—_European Mail._

“An interesting volume.”—_The Scotsman._

“Contains much that will interest and instruct.”—_Glasgow Herald._

“The author has produced a book which is at once entertaining and
valuable, and which is also entitled to unstinted praise on the ground
of its admirable printing and binding.”—_Shields Daily Gazette._

“Mr. Andrews’ book does not contain a dull page.... Deserves to meet
with a very warm welcome.”—_Yorkshire Post._

“Mr. Andrews, in ‘Old Church Lore,’ makes the musty parchments and
records he has consulted redolent with life and actuality, and has added
to his works a most interesting volume, which, written in a light and
easy narrative style, is anything but of the ‘dry-as-dust’ order. The
book is handsomely got up, being both bound and printed in an artistic
fashion.”—_Northern Daily News._


    +_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, crown quarto, price 10s. 6d._+

                         Old-Time Punishments.

                     By WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,

                            YORKSHIRE,” ETC.


        Carefully prepared papers, profusely illustrated, appear
                      on the following subjects:—

_The Ducking Stool—The Brank, or Scold’s Bridle—The Pillory—Punishing
    Authors and burning books—Finger-Pillory—The Jougs—The Stocks—The
    Drunkard’s Cloak—Whipping—Public Penance in White Sheets—The
    Repentance-Stool—Riding the Stang—Gibbet Lore—Drowning—Burning to
    Death—Boiling to Death—Beheading—Hanging, Drawing, and Quartering—
    Pressing to Death—Hanging—Hanging in Chains—The Halifax Gibbet—The
    Scottish Maiden, etc.—An Index of five closely-printed pages._

                      MANY CURIOUS ILLUSTRATIONS.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“This is an entertaining book ... well chosen illustrations and a
serviceable index.—_Athenæum._

“A hearty reception may be bespoken for it.”—_Globe._

“A work which will be eagerly read by all who take it up.”—_Scotsman._

“It is entertaining.”—_Manchester Guardian._

“A vast amount of curious and entertaining matter.”—_Sheffield

“We can honestly recommend a perusal of this book.”—_Yorkshire Post._

“Interesting and handsomely printed.”—_Newcastle Chronicle._

“A very readable history.”—_Birmingham Daily Gazette._

“Mr. Andrews’ book is well worthy of careful study, and is a perfect
mine of wealth on the subject of which it treats.”—_Herts Advertiser._

“It is sure of a warm welcome on both sides of the Atlantic.”—_Christian


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., price 6s._+

                            Bygone England:

         _Social Studies in its Historic Byways and Highways._

                     By WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,

           _Author of “Old Church Lore,” “Curiosities of the
                 Church,” “Old Time Punishments,” etc._


       Under Watch and Ward.
                   Under Lock and Key.
                                     The Practice of Pledging.

       The Minstrel in the Olden Time.
                   Curious Landholding Customs.
                               Curiosities of Slavery in England.

       Buying and Selling in the Olden Time.
                   Curious Fair Customs.
                                     Old Prejudices against Coal.

       The Sedan Chair.
                   Running Footmen.
                               The Early Days of the Umbrella.

       A Talk about Tea.
                   Concerning Coffee.
                                   The Horn Book.

       Fighting Cocks in Schools.
                             The Badge of Poverty.

       Patents to wear Nightcaps.
                   A Foolish Fashion.
                           Wedding Notices in the Last Century.

       Selling Wives.
                   The Story of the Tinder Box.
                             The Invention of Friction Matches.

       Body Snatching.
                   Christmas under the Commonwealth.
                                     Under the Mistletoe Bough.

                   A carefully prepared Index.

                        NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.

                         Opinions of the Press.

_The following are a few extracts from a large number of favourable
reviews of “Bygone England”_:—

“We welcome ‘Bygone England.’ It is another of Mr. Andrews’ meritorious
achievements in the path of popularising archæological and old-time
information without in any way writing down to an ignoble level.”—_The

“This is a book which will give instruction as well as entertainment to
all who read it, and it will serve to awaken interest in the old and
quaint customs of our native land.”—_Sala’s Journal._

“The volume is admirably got up, and its contents are at once
entertaining and instructive. Mr. Andrews is quite a master of curious
and out-of-the-way knowledge.”—_Scottish Leader._

“‘A delightful book,’ is the verdict that the reader will give after a
perusal of its pages. Mr. Andrews has presented to us in very pleasing
form some phases of the social life of England in the olden time.”—
_Publishers’ Circular._

“Some of the chapters are very interesting, and are most useful for
those who desire to know the origin and history of some of our daily
practices and amusements.”—_The World._

“In recommending this book to the general public, we do so, feeling
confident that within its pages they will find much that is worth
knowing, that they will never find their interest flag, nor their
curiosity ungratified.”—_Hull Daily News._

“A volume which may be cordially recommended to all who love to stray in
historical byways.”—_Shields Daily Gazette._

“A very readable and instructive volume.”—_The Globe._

“Many are the subjects of interest introduced in this chatty volume.”—
_Saturday Review._

“A delightful volume for all who love to dive into the origin of social
habits and customs, and to penetrate into the byways of history.”—
_Liverpool Daily Post._

“There is a large mass of information in this capital volume, and it is
so pleasantly put that many will be tempted to study it. Mr. Andrews has
done his work with great skill.”—_London Quarterly Review._

“It is impossible to read this book without a feeling of gratitude to
Mr. Andrews for his labours. The subjects have been so well selected,
and are treated in so attractive a manner, that the reader may open the
volume at any page and find something which will rivet his attention....
A good index is provided, and the book is well printed and got up.”—
_Manchester Examiner._

“This informing and readable book will be welcome in any household.”—
_Yorkshire Post._



            Fcap. 4to. Bevelled boards, gilt tops. Price 4s.

                     FAMOUS FROSTS AND FROST FAIRS

                           IN GREAT BRITAIN.

           Chronicled from the Earliest to the Present Time.

                     By WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,

                      “OLD-TIME PUNISHMENTS,” ETC.

    Only 400 copies printed, each copy numbered, and only 20 remain
            on sale. Three curious full-page illustrations.

This work furnishes a carefully prepared account of all the great Frosts
occurring in this country from A.D. 134 to 1887. The numerous Frost
Fairs on the Thames are fully described, and illustrated with quaint
woodcuts, and several old ballads relating to the subject are
reproduced. It is tastefully printed and elegantly bound.

       _The following are a few of the many favourable reviews of
                   “Famous Frosts and Frost Fairs”_:—

“The work is thoroughly well written, it is careful in its facts, and
may be pronounced exhaustive on the subject. Illustrations are given of
several frost fairs on the Thames, and as a trustworthy record this
volume should be in every good library. The usefulness of the work is
much enhanced by a good index.”—_Public Opinion._

“The book is beautifully got up.”—_Barnsley Independent._

“A very interesting volume.”—_Northern Daily Telegraph._

“A great deal of curious and valuable information is contained in these
pages.... A comely volume.”—_Literary World._

“The work from first to last is a most attractive one, and the arts
alike of printer and binder have been brought into one to give it a
pleasing form.”—_Wakefield Free Press._

“An interesting and valuable work.”—_West Middlesex Times._

“Not likely to fail in interest.”—_Manchester Guardian._

“This chronology has been a task demanding extensive research and
considerable labour and patience, and Mr. Andrews is to be heartily
congratulated on the result.”—_Derby Daily Gazette._

“A volume of much interest and great importance.”—_Rotherham


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo, price 7s. 6d._+

    _Only 500 copies printed, and each copy numbered. Only 30 copies
                            remain on sale._

                        BYGONE NORTHAMPTONSHIRE:

          Its History, Folk-Lore, and Memorable Men and Women.

                 _Edited by WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S._,

                   OF THE CHURCH,” “OLD CHURCH LORE.”

_Contents_:—Historic Northamptonshire, by Thomas Frost—The Eleanor
Crosses, by the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.—Fotheringhay: Past and Present,
by Mrs. Dempsey—The Battle of Naseby, by Edward Lamplough—The Cottage
Countess—The Charnel House at Rothwell, by Edward Chamberlain—The
Gunpowder Plot, by John T. Page—Earls Barton Church, by T. Tindall
Wildridge—Old Fairs, by William Sharman—Witches and Witchcraft, by
Eugene Teesdale—The City of Peterborough, by Frederick Ross, F.R.H.S.—
The English Founders of the Washington Family of America, by Thomas
Frost—Ann Bradstreet, the Earliest American Poetess—Liber Custumarum,
Villæ Northamptoniæ, by Christopher A. Markham, F.S.A.—Thomas Britton,
the Musical Small-Coal Man, by E. E. Cohen—Old Scarlett, the
Peterborough Sexton—Accounts of Towcester Constables, by John Nicholson—
Miserere Shoemaker of Wellingborough, by T. Tindall Wildridge—Sir Thomas
Tresham and his Buildings, by John T. Page—Northamptonshire Folk-Lore,
by John Nicholson—Northamptonshire Proverbs—An Ancient Hospital, by the
Rev. I. Wodhams, M.A.—A carefully prepared Index—_Numerous

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“The volume is very interesting, and for those who dwell in the county,
or whose tastes lead them to explore its history, it will have especial
attraction.”—_Publishers’ Circular._

“A welcome contribution to the literature of the county.”—_Northampton

“The book is published in a form that is well worthy of the high
standard that the Hull Press has achieved, and we can congratulate Mr.
Andrews on adding one more stone to the fabric of the bygone history of
the Midlands.”—_Hull Daily News._

“An interesting volume, as well as being got up in exceptionally good
style. The matter is well chosen and well rendered, so that the book is
not only a thing of beauty, but also a veritable treasure-house of
reliable and entertaining articles.”—_Beverley Independent._

“A welcome addition to the shelves of anyone interested in the
antiquities of Northamptonshire, while even those who are not, will be
able to pleasantly while away many odd half-hours by perusing its
pages.”—_Kettering Leader._


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo, price 7s. 6d._+

Only 750 copies printed, and each copy numbered.

                             Bygone Essex:

             _Its History, Folk-Lore, and Memorable Men and

                  EDITED BY WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,

  Author of “Bygone England,” “Old-Time Punishments,” “Curiosities of
                    the Church,” “Old Church Lore.”


Historic Essex, by Thomas Frost—Epping Forest: Its History, Customs, and
Laws, by Jesse Quail—Greenstead Church, by Edward Lamplough—The Burial
of Harold at Waltham, by William Winters, F.R.H.S.—St. Osyth’s Priory,
by John T. Page—Colchester in Olden Times, by Joseph W. Spurgeon—The
Siege of Colchester, by Joseph W. Spurgeon—Colchester: Its Historic
Buildings and Famous Men, by Joseph W. Spurgeon—Essex Tokens, by Thomas
Forster—Queen Elizabeth at Tilbury: A Glance at Armada Days, by Edward
Lamplough—The Lawless Court, by the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.—The Dunmow
Flitch—A Deserted Primitive Village, by G. Fredk. Beaumont—William
Hunter: The Young Martyr of Brentwood, by John W. Odling—Fairlop Fair,
by John W. Odling—Thomas Tusser, and his “Five Hundred Points of Good
Husbandry,” by W. H. Thompson—John Ray, Naturalist, by W. H. Thompson—
Wanstead House, by John T. Page—Hopkins, the Witchfinder, by Frederick
Ross, F.R.H.S.—An Essex Poet, by the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.—Historic
Harwich—Old Bow Bridge, by John T. Page—Index.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“Readable as well as instructive, and it has an interest for many more
than Essex people.”—_The Globe._

“Good paper, good type, and good illustrations all help to make ‘Bygone
Essex’ an exceedingly pleasant and agreeable book.”—_Sala’s Journal._

“This work will be welcomed by all intelligent explorers of their own
country, who cannot fail to regard its ancient monuments and historic
localities with renewed interest after perusing it.”—_The Gentlewoman._

                       _Colchester: T. Forster._
                       _London: Hutchinson & Co._


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., 7s. 6d._+

Only 750 copies printed, and each copy numbered.

                           Bygone Lancashire.

                         Edited by ERNEST AXON.

_Contents_:—Historic Lancashire, by Ernest Axon—The Religious Life of
Lancashire during the Commonwealth, by W. A. Shaw, M.A.—Kersal Moor, by
Janet Armytage—A Lancaster Worthy (Thomas Covell), by William Hewitson—
Some Early Manchester Grammar School Boys, by Ernest Axon—The Sworn Men
of Amounderness, by Lieut.-Col. Henry Fishwick, F.S.A.—Lancashire
Sundials, by William E. A. Axon, M.R.S.L.—The Plague in Liverpool, by J.
Cooper Morley—The Old Dated Bell at Claughton, by Robert Langton,
F.R.H.S.—The Children of Tim Bobbin, by Ernest Axon—The “Black Art” at
Bolton—An Infant Prodigy in 1679, by Arthur W. Croxton—Wife Desertion in
the Olden Times—The Colquitt Family of Liverpool—Some Old Lancashire
Punishments—Bury Simnels—Eccles Wakes, by H. Cottam—Furness Abbey—
Colonel Rosworm and the Siege of Manchester, by George C. Yates, F.S.A.—
Poems of Lancashire Places, by William E. A. Axon, M.R.S.L.—Father
Arrowsmith’s Hand, by Rushworth Armytage—Index—_Illustrated_.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“A work of considerable historical and archæological interest.”—
_Liverpool Daily Post._

“The book is handsomely got up.”—_Manchester Guardian._

“In the collection of papers forming this highly interesting volume,
many antiquarian and historical matters connected with the County
Palatine are dealt with, and at least a dozen authors have contributed
essays rich in curious facts.... All the articles are good, and should
make this volume a favourite among the historical students of the County
Palatine.”—_Liverpool Mercury._

“The book is excellently printed and bound.”—_Library Review._

“‘Bygone Lancashire’ is a welcome addition to the literature of the
county, and we may echo the hope expressed by the editor that its
appearance ‘may encourage the local patriotism which is such a striking
characteristic of the Lancashire Lad.’ It may be added that the work,
which contains a few illustrations, is well got up, and does credit to
the publishers.”—_Manchester Courier._

“This is another of those clearly-printed, well-covered, readable,
accurate, and entertaining ‘Bygone’ volumes that come forth with
pleasant frequency from the Andrews’ press, Hull.... The volume is sure
of a ready sale among the more intelligent of the ‘Lancashire Lads.’”—


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., price 7s. 6d._+

                             Bygone London.

                      By FREDERICK ROSS, F.R.H.S.,

           _Author of “Yorkshire Family Romance,” “Legendary
                           Yorkshire,” etc._


The Walls and Gates—Episodes in the Annals of Cheapside—Bishopsgate
Street Within and Without—Aldersgate Street and St. Martin’s-le-Grand—
Old Broad Street—Chaucer and the Tabard—The Priory of the Holy Trinity,
Aldgate—Convent of the Sisters Minoresses of the Order of St. Clare,
Aldgate—The Abbey of St. Mary of Graces, or East Minster—The Barons
Fitzwalter, of Baynard’s Castle—Sir Nicholas Brember, Knight, Lord Mayor
of London—An Olden Time Bishop of London: Robert de Braybrooke—A Brave
Old London Bishop: Fulco Basset—An Old London Diarist—Index.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“Mr. Ross deals with the chief episodes in the history of London
architecture, and with existing London antiquities, in a garrulous,
genial spirit, which renders his book generally attractive.”—_The

“Beyond all doubt a more interesting and withal informing volume than
‘Bygone London’ it has not been our good fortune to come across for many
a long day.”—_The City Press._



                             In the Temple.


In the Temple—The Knight Templars—The Devil’s Own—Christmas in the
Temple—How to become a Templar—On Keeping Terms—Call Parties.

“Amusing and interesting sketches.”—_Law Times._

“Pleasant gossip about the barristers’ quarter.”—_Gentlewoman._

“A very pleasant little volume.”—_Globe._

“An entertaining little book.”—_Manchester Examiner._


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., price 7s. 6d._+

                           Bygone Derbyshire:

                Its History, Romance, Folk-Lore, Curious
                             Customs, etc.

                  EDITED BY WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.

Derbyshire is rich in historical associations of an out-of-the-way
character. In the pages of “Bygone Derbyshire” are presented in a
readable, and at the same time in a scholar-like style, papers,
profusely illustrated, bearing on such subjects as the history of the
county, ancient castles, monumental brasses, gleanings from parochial
records, old church lore, family romance, traditions, curious customs,
witchcraft, well-dressing, old-time sports, etc., etc.

_Contents_:—Historic Derbyshire, by Thomas Frost—On an Early Christian
Tomb at Wirksworth, by Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., F.S.A.—Curious
Derbyshire Lead-Mining Customs, by William Andrews, F.R.H.S.—The Place-
Name Derby, by Frederick Davis, F.S.A.—Duffield Castle, by Jno. Ward—
Haddon Hall—The Romance of Haddon Hall—The Ordeal of Touch—The
Monumental Brasses at Tideswell, by James L. Thornely—Bolsover Castle,
by Enid A. M. Cox—The Lamp of St. Helen, by T. Tindall Wildridge—Peveril
Castle, by James L. Thornely—Samuel Slater, the Father of the American
Cotton Manufacture, by William E. A. Axon—The Bakewell Witches, by T.
Tindall Wildridge—Mary Queen of Scots in Derbyshire—The Babington
Conspiracy—Eyam and its Sad Memories, by W. G. Fretton, F.S.A.—Well-
Dressing, by Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.—Old-Time Football, by Theo.
Arthur—After Thirty Years: An Incident of the Civil War, by Edward
Lamplough—Derbyshire and the ’45, by Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.—Bess of
Hardwick, by Frederick Ross, F.R.H.S.—Shadows of Romance—Index.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“‘Bygone Derbyshire’ is a valuable and interesting contribution to local
history and archæology.”—_The Times._

“The volume is pleasant reading of a most attractive county.”—_Daily

“A very interesting and welcome addition to the literature of
Derbyshire.—_Derbyshire Courier._

“Mr. Andrews is to be warmly complimented on the all-round excellence of
his work, which forms a valuable addition to Derbyshire literature.”—
_Alfreton Journal._

“A valuable addition to any library.”—_Derbyshire Times._


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., 7s. 6d._+

                         BYGONE LEICESTERSHIRE.

                  Edited by WILLIAM ANDREWS, F.R.H.S.,

       _Author of “Old Church Lore,” “Curiosities of the Church,”
                     “Old-Time Punishments,” etc._


Historic Leicestershire. By Thomas Frost.—John Wiclif and Lutterworth.
By John T. Page.—The Last Days of a Dynasty: An introduction to Redmore
Fight.—The Battle of Bosworth. By Edward Lamplough.—Scenes at Bosworth:
The Blue Boar at Leicester.—Bradgate and Lady Jane Grey. By John T.
Page.—Leicester Castle. By I. W. Dickinson, B.A.—Death of Cardinal
Wolsey at Leicester Abbey. By I. W. Dickinson, B.A.—Belvoir Castle.—
Robert, Earl of Leicester: A Chapter of Mediæval History.—Local Proverbs
and Folk Phrases. By T. Broadbent Trowsdale.—Festival Customs in
Leicestershire. By Henrietta Ellis.—Witchcraft in Leicestershire. By J.
Potter Briscoe, F.R.H.S.—William Lilly, The Astrologer. By W. H.
Thompson.—Gleanings from Early Leicestershire Wills. By the Rev. W. G.
D. Fletcher, M.A., F.S.A.—Punishments of the Past.—Laurence Ferrers, the
Murderer-Earl. By T. Broadbent Trowsdale.—The Last Gibbet. By Thomas
Frost.—The Ancient Water-Mills at Loughborough. By the Rev. W. G. D.
Fletcher, M.A., F.S.A.—Ashby-de-la-Zouch Castle and its Associations;
Ashby-de-la-Zouch and the French Prisoners. By Canon Denton, M.A.—Miss
Mary Linwood: An Artist with the Needle. By William Andrews, F.R.H.S.—
Street Cries. By F. T. Mott, F.R.G.S.—Minstrelsy in Leicester. By the
Rev. Geo. S. Tyack, B.A.—Index.

                             PRESS OPINION.

“The subjects are dealt with in a popular manner, and the utmost
accuracy has been observed in setting forth the more interesting phases
of local history, biography, and folk-lore of Leicestershire. The book
is interspersed with some capital illustrations; the whole is nicely
printed, and forms an acceptable gift to any one who takes an interest
in the doings of bygone days, or in the history of this especial
county.”—_Hull News._


+_Only 750 copies printed, and each copy numbered._+

                        Price 7s. 6d., demy 8vo.

                              Bygone Kent:

             _Its History, Romance, Folk Lore, etc., etc._

                Edited by RICHARD STEAD, B.A., F.R.H.S.

           (_Head Master of the Folkestone Grammar School._)

_Contents_:—Historic Kent, by Thomas Frost—Kentish Place-Names, by R.
Stead, B.A., F.R.H.S.—St. Augustine and his Mission, by the Rev. Geo. S.
Tyack, B.A.—The Ruined Chapels and Chantries of Kent, by Geo. M. Arnold,
J.P., D.L., F.S.A.—A Sketch of the History of the Church or Basilica of
Lyminge, by the Rev. Canon R. C. Jenkins, M.A.—Canterbury Pilgrims and
their Sojourn in the City, by the Rev. W. F. Foxell, B.A.—William
Lambarde, the Kentish Antiquary, by Frederick Ross, F.R.H.S.—The Revolt
of the Villeins in the Days of King Richard the Second, by Edward
Lamplough—Royal Eltham, by Joseph W. Spurgeon—Greenwich Fair, by Thomas
Frost—The Martyred Cardinal, by Frederick Ross, F.R.H.S.—The Kentish
Dialects, and Pegge and Lewis, the Old County Glossarists, by R. Stead,
B.A.—The King’s School, Canterbury, by the Rev. J. S. Sidebotham, M.A.—
Smuggling in Kent—Huguenot Homes in Kent, by S. W. Kershaw, F.S.A.—Dover
Castle, by E. Wollaston Knocker—Index.

                         OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

The following are selected from a large number of favourable reviews:—

“A tasteful volume.... The purpose of the book, ‘to give a fairly
representative series of pictures of Kent and Kentish life in olden
times’ is, beyond doubt, amply fulfilled.”—_The Antiquary._

“Nicely printed.”—_Folkestone Express._

“The work teems with interesting details of the lives and manners of our
Kentish forefathers, and should be found in every library of every
Kentish man.”—_Tunbridge Wells Advertiser._

“Mr. Stead and his contributors have succeeded in producing a
fascinating volume that will form pleasant reading to any one with a
taste for things historical or antiquarian; while the printing and
illustrations are fully equal to the high standard of previous
publications from the Hull Press.”—_Hull Daily News._

                       Canterbury: H. J. Goulden.
                       London: Hutchinson and Co.


+_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, price 7s. 6d._+

                        BYGONE NOTTINGHAMSHIRE:

              Its History, Romance, Folk Lore, etc., etc.

                         BY WILLIAM STEVENSON.


The Wapentakes—The Origin of the County—The Origin of the Town—The
Earliest Recorded Visitors to the County—The Suppression of the Knights
Templars—Old Sanctuary Days—Notable Instances of Sanctuary—A Note on the
Beverley Sanctuary—The King’s Gallows of the County—The Reign of Terror
in Notts—Public Executions—Old Family Feuds—Visitations of the Plague—
Visitations in the Town—Visitations in the County—Nottingham Goose Fair—
The Great Priory Fair at Lenton—The Pilgrimage of Grace—The Pilgrim
Fathers; or, The Founders of New England—The Descendants of the Pilgrim
Fathers—Archiepiscopal Palaces—The Ancient Inns and Taverns of

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“Mr. Wm. Stevenson, of several of whose previous works Nottingham and
the shire have formed the bases, adds to the list an exceedingly
interesting and useful book on the county, under the title of ‘Bygone
Nottinghamshire,’ illustrated by a large number of engravings from
photographs, old prints, and other sources. The writer’s aim has been to
incorporate much information beyond the reach of ordinary students on
the past history of the county, and thereby to prove the shire is, as he
believes, rich beyond comparison in ancient lore.... A most pleasant
addition to local history.”—_Nottingham Daily Guardian._

“We welcome Mr. Stevenson’s book as a useful addition to the literature
of the county.”—_Newark Advertiser._

“This recent volume of Messrs. Andrews and Company’s series of ‘Bygones’
is a treasure to _bona-fide_ students of Nottinghamshire history. The
compilation of the whole book is solely the work of Mr. W. Stevenson, an
ardent and original student of local history as now accepted. The book
is well illustrated, the maps and plans being most valuable.... We have
not space to do full justice to ‘Bygone Nottinghamshire,’ but in
heartily commending it to all readers, we may say that if judged by the
mean standard of quantity alone it is good value for money; but it is
more than that, for besides being a popular work, it is also an original
one—an exceedingly unusual combination.”—_Notts and Derbyshire Notes and


+_Bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., price 7s. 6d._+

            Only 500 copies printed, and each copy numbered.

                       THE MONUMENTAL BRASSES OF
                        LANCASHIRE AND CHESHIRE.

             With some Account of the Persons Represented.

                            BY THE AUTHOR._

                         By JAMES L. THORNELY.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“Mr. Thornely’s book will be eagerly sought by all lovers of monumental
brasses.”—_London Quarterly Review._

“Local archæologists will give a hearty welcome to this book.”—
_Manchester Guardian._

“Mr. Thornely has produced a very interesting volume, as he has not only
figured nearly every monumental brass within the two counties to which
he has confined his researches, but in every case he has given a
description also, and in some instances the genealogical information is
of a high order of value.”—_The Tablet._

“A well got-up and profusely-illustrated volume.”—_Manchester Examiner
and Times._

“This book is wonderfully readable for its kind, and is evidently the
result of careful and painstaking labour. The chapters are well
condensed, nowhere burdened with verbiage, yet sufficiently full to
serve the purpose in view. The illustrations of the various brasses are
exceedingly well done, and add much value and interest to the work,
which should become popular in Lancashire and Cheshire.”—_Warrington

“‘The Monumental Brasses of Lancashire and Cheshire,’ with some account
of the persons represented, by James L. Thornely, is a volume of great
antiquarian interest to residents in the two counties. It has been a
labour of love, and embodies the results, as the author remarks in his
preface, of many pleasant hours during a series of pilgrimages to
ancient churches and sweet communings with a stately past. The plates in
the volume are reproductions of pen and ink drawings made from
‘rubbings,’ most of which were taken by the author, and the descriptive
letterpress relates to the ancestry of many old Lancashire and Cheshire
families, and is full of antiquarian and historical interest.”—
_Liverpool Daily Post._

“The volume is excellently printed and finished, and its production
reflects great credit on its publishers—the Hull Press.”—_Hull Daily

“The author’s artistic drawings of the brasses he describes, as may be
imagined, embrace numbers of curious outlines, from the rudest to many
of elegant design. Each is accompanied by as copious a description as it
seems possible to obtain, the work on the whole covering over three
hundred pages of well-executed letterpress. Only five hundred copies
have been printed, and these have been nearly all taken up by
subscribers.”—_Chester Courant._

“Messrs. William Andrews & Co., of Hull” (“Logroller” writes in the
_Star_), “seem to be producing some handsome antiquarian books. The
latest that has come to me is an account of ‘The Monumental Brasses of
Lancashire and Cheshire,’ by Mr. James L. Thornely. Brass-rubbing is a
most fascinating enthusiasm. ‘Wouldst thou know the beauty of holiness?’
asks Lamb. ‘Go alone on some week-day, borrowing the keys of good Master
Sexton, traverse the cool aisles of some country church.’ Those cool
aisles are the workshop of the brass-rubber. While he kneels over his
spread sheet of paper, and diligently plies his ‘heel-ball,’ the
afternoon lights dapple the old stones, and country sounds and scents
steal in to keep him company at his solitary task. You see I also have
been in Arcady. Mr. Thornely is not only interested in his subject
himself, but he has the gift of imparting his interest to others. His
accounts of his various brasses and the personages they commemorate are
simple and clear, and marked by a literary touch too rare in the
treatment of such themes.”


           +_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., 6s._+

                          Legendary Yorkshire.

                     _By FREDERICK ROSS, F.R.H.S._

_Contents_: The Enchanted Cave—The Doomed City—The Worm of Nunnington—
The Devil’s Arrows—The Giant Road Maker of Mulgrave—The Virgin’s Head of
Halifax—The Dead Arm of St. Oswald the King—The Translation of St.
Hilda—A Miracle of St. John—The Beatifed Sisters—The Dragon of Wantley—
The Miracles and Ghost of Watton—The Murdered Hermit of Eskdale—The
Calverley Ghost—The Bewitched House of Wakefield.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

_Beverley Recorder_ says—“It is a work of lasting interest, and cannot
fail to delight the reader.”

_Driffield Observer_ says—“The history and the literature of our county
are now receiving marked attention, and Mr. Andrews merits the support
of the public for the production of this and the other interesting
volumes he has issued. We cannot speak too highly of this volume, the
printing, the paper, and the binding being faultless.”


           +_Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, demy 8vo., 6s._+

                       Yorkshire Family Romance.

                     _By FREDERICK ROSS, F.R.H.S._

_Contents_:—The Synod of Streoneshalh—The Doomed Heir of Osmotherley—St.
Eadwine, the Royal Martyr—The Viceroy Siward—Phases in the Life of a
Political Martyr—The Murderer’s Bride—The Earldom of Wiltes—Black-faced
Clifford—The Shepherd Lord—The Felons of Ilkley—The Ingilby Boar’s Head—
The Eland Tragedy—The Plumpton Marriage—The Topcliffe Insurrection—
Burning of Cottingham Castle—The Alum Workers—The Maiden of Marblehead—
Rise of the House of Phipps—The Traitor Governor of Hull.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“The grasp and thoroughness of the writer is evident in every page, and
the book forms a valuable addition to the literature of the North

“Many will welcome this work.”—_Yorkshire Post._


                    +_Paper Cover, 1s. Cloth, 2s._+

                      My Christ: and other Poems.

                           BY H. ELVET LEWIS.


“The fifty pages, by no means overcrowded, which Mr. Elvet Lewis has
given us, go far to justify the hope that a new poet of genuine power
has arisen among us. The thought is often singularly beautiful. The
expression is so simple and so natural that it conceals the art. The
delicacy of the workmanship may easily blind us to the strength. Mr.
Lewis is essentially original, though his affinities are closest,
perhaps, to Whittier and Lynch: but there is not a trace of imitation to
be found in the book from one end to the other.”—_Literary World._

“This little volume possesses a rare charm for the lovers of really good
verse. The writer is evidently of the number of those whose spirituality
is intense, and whose faith in, and hold of, the things “not seen and
eternal” are vivid and strong. The opening poem, which gives the work
its title—‘My Christ’ is singularly beautiful for the spirit of love,
loyalty, and devotion which it breathes in every line. Altogether, the
poems are of a high order, and quite worthy of ranking alongside such
works as ‘The Lyra Innocentium’ and ‘The Christian Year.’”—_Hull Times._

“The verses are worthy of Mr. Lewis’ poetic genius, and breathe a spirit
of devotion which will certainly have an uplifting influence upon those
who peruse the verses. Mr. Lewis has a pure style, and in the poems
before us there are a few gems of thought which shew their originator to
be an author of great ability.”—_Llanelly Guardian._

“Sacred poems of great merit and beauty.”—_Newcastle Daily Chronicle._


                          +_Fancy Cover, 1s._+

                      Wanted—An Heiress: A Novel.

                              BY EVAN MAY.

“It is an entrancing story, and perfectly wholesome reading. In this
work, the author of ‘The Greatest of These’ is at her best; and ‘Wanted,
an Heiress’ may be pronounced a leading tale of the season.”—_South
Yorkshire Free Press._

“The story is well told.”—_Northern Echo._

“It is a bright book for holiday reading.”—_Carlisle Express._


+Price 6s. Demy 8vo. Elegantly bound in cloth gilt.+

                          A Month in a Dandi:

                A Woman’s Wanderings in Northern India.

                        BY CHRISTINA S. BREMNER.

_Contents._—The Ascent from the Plains to the Hills—Kasauli and its
Amusements—Theories on Heat—Simla, the Queen of the Hill Stations—
Starting Alone for the Interior—In Bussahir State—The Religious Festival
at Pangay—On Congress—On the Growing Poverty of India.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“The author of a ‘Month in a Dandi’ has a facile pen, and is evidently a
shrewd observer. Her book differs from many belonging to the same class
by reason of its freshness, its spontaneity, and its abundance of
interesting detail. Moreover, the book is written with a purpose. ‘If by
perusing these pages the reader obtains a clearer view of England’s
attitude to her great dependency, if his prepossessions against ‘black
men’ and the ‘poor heathen’ should melt away in any degree, if the
assumption that what is good for England must necessarily be so for
India receives a slight shake, the writer will feel rewarded.’ To these
conclusions one is almost certain to come when the experiences of Miss
Bremner’s ‘Month in a Dandi’ are recalled. There would be no end to our
quotations were we to reproduce all the passages we have marked as being
interesting. Miss Bremner is always in good spirits, and writes with
ease, and evidently _con amore_.”—_Birmingham Daily Gazette._

“Miss Bremner’s book describes a woman’s wanderings in Northern India,
and it is written from adequate knowledge, with shrewd discernment, and
a pleasing amount of vivacity.—_Speaker._

“‘A Month in a Dandi’ is full of instruction. It shows a great deal of
ability and determination to express truths, even if they be
unpalatable. The chapters on the vexed questions of Baboo culture and
Indian Congress are well worth reading.”—_Manchester Guardian._

“Miss Bremner’s style is chastened for the most part, humorous, faithful
to detail, and oftentimes polished to literary excellence. The earlier
chapters are full of raciness and agreeable personality.”—_Hull Daily

“‘A Month in a Dandi’ describes the writer’s wanderings in Northern
India, following upon a shrewdly observant account of the seamy side of
Anglo-Indian Society. The subject throughout is approached from a
political economist’s point of view. The chapter on the growing poverty
of India sounds a warning note.”—_Gentlewoman._

“The author of a ‘Month in a Dandi’ is evidently a keen observer of men
and things, and we know that her opinion is shared by many of our
countrymen who have had a much larger experience of India and Indian
affairs than herself. The book is full of the most exquisite word
pictures, pictures that are full of light, beauty, and grace, but,
unfortunately, some of them have more shade than we care to see; but,
doubtless, Miss Bremner’s treatment is correct and life-like.”—_Hull
Daily News._


                  “Quite up to Date.”—Hull Daily Mail.

        Crown 8vo., 140 pp.; fancy cover, 1s.; cloth bound, 2s.

                     STEPPING-STONES TO SOCIALISM.

                         BY DAVID MAXWELL, C.E.


In a reasonable and able manner Mr. Maxwell deals with the following
topics:—The Popular Meaning of the Term Socialism—Lord Salisbury on
Socialism—Why There is in Many Minds an Antipathy to Socialism—On Some
Socialistic Views of Marriage—The Question of Private Property—The Old
Political Economy is not the Way of Salvation—Who is My Neighbour?—
Progress, and the Condition of the Labourer—Good and Bad Trade:
Precarious Employment—All Popular Movements are Helping on Socialism—
Modern Literature in Relation to Social Progress—Pruning the Old
Theological Tree—The Churches,—Their Socialistic Tendencies—The Future
of the Earth in Relation to Human Life—Socialism is Based on Natural
Laws of Life—Humanity in the Future—Preludes to Socialism—Forecasts of
the Ultimate Form of Society—A Pisgah-top View of the Promised Land.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

The following are selected from a large number of favourable notices:—

“The author has evidently reflected deeply on the subject of Socialism,
and his views are broad, equitable, and quite up to date. In a score or
so of chapters he discusses Socialism from manifold points of view, and
in its manifold aspects. Mr. Maxwell is not a fanatic; his book is not
dull, and his style is not amateurish.”—_Hull Daily Mail._

“There is a good deal of charm about Mr. Maxwell’s style.”—_Northern
Daily News._

“The book is well worthy of perusal.”—_Hull News._

“The reader who desires more intimate acquaintance with a subject that
is often under discussion at the present day, will derive much interest
from a perusal of this little work. Whether it exactly expresses the
views of the various socialists themselves is another matter, but
inasmuch as these can seldom agree even among themselves, the objection
is scarcely so serious as might otherwise be thought.”—_Publisher’s


+Elegantly bound in cloth gilt, crown 8vo., 340 pp., 4/4 nett.+


                       No. 1.—Children of Chance.

                           BY HERBERT LLOYD.

                            PRESS OPINIONS.

“Mr. Lloyd has redeemed his story by sprightly incident and some
admirable character sketches. Madge, whom the hero eventually marries,
is a charming creation, and yet ‘not too light and good for human
nature’s daily food.’ Her sister and her husband, Tom Coltman, are also
a fine couple, and Mr. Lloyd introduces us to some very clever scenes at
the theatre at which they perform. The hero’s sister, Gladys, is another
favourite, and the family to which she is introduced consists of many
persons in whom the reader is bound to take an interest. Mr. Lloyd works
up the climax in a truly masterly manner, and the discovery of the
father of the ‘children of chance,’ is ingenious and clever. In short we
have little but praise for this book.... The reader’s interest is
aroused from the first and is sustained to the end. There is pathos in
the story and there is humour, and Mr. Lloyd writes very gracefully and
tenderly where grace and tenderness are needed.”—_Birmingham Daily

“The story ... is full of action and movement, and is never dull.”—_The

“Messrs. William Andrews & Co., of Hull, have opened their ‘Library of
Popular Fiction’ with a brightly-written novel by Herbert Lloyd,
entitled ‘Children of Chance.’ The treatment of the story is distinctly
above the average.... The character of Richard Framley, though a minor
one, is very cleverly limned, and a forcible piece of writing in the
last chapter but one, will leave a vivid impression even to the reader
who merely skims the book. Altogether the ‘Library’ has reached a high
standard with its initial volume.”—_Eastbourne Observer._

“Those who can appreciate a good story told in plain and simple language
will probably find a good deal of pleasure in perusing ‘Children of
Chance,’ by Herbert Lloyd. It is altogether devoid of sensationalism. At
the same time one feels an interest in the various couples who are
introduced, and whose love-making is recorded in a very agreeable
manner.... Mr. Lloyd succeeds in depicting an effective scene at the
final denouement, the period before it being attractively filled in. It
is artistically worked out.”—_Sala’s Journal._

“The story is strengthened by the interest attaching to its women, and
by a certain lightness of touch and naturalness in the portrayal of the
life of an artistic family. Some of the characters are both well drawn
and likeable, and one or two strong incidents redeem the general tone of
the plot.”—_Glasgow Herald._

“This is decidedly a good novel, and the plot is sufficiently exciting
to attract a reader and hold him to the end.”—_The Publishers’

“The author of ‘Children of Chance,’ grasps one of the first essentials
of fiction, dramatic effect.... There is no lack of new ideas, and the
story is not uninteresting.”—_The Literary World._

“The plot of ‘Children of Chance,’ by Herbert Lloyd, is in many ways a
powerful one.... There are several strong situations, and the book is
well worth reading.”—_The Yorkshire Post._

“‘Children of Chance,’ which inaugurates Andrews’ ‘Library of Popular
Fiction,’ enforces the lesson of evil consequences that may be expected
to follow upon foul deeds deliberately wrought.... The interest in the
career of Cecil Studholme and his children is kept well alive.”—_The

“This is a well-balanced and cleverly written novel. Some fine realistic
work is displayed in the delineation of several characters, a trait
which shows that the author has kept a high ideal before him in his
constructive processes.... Love episodes come in, and the conversation
is exceedingly healthy and natural. The volume is beautifully got-up.”—
_The Perthshire Advertiser._

“There is plenty of love-making in the story, several of the characters
are well drawn, and the plot is an ingenious one.”—_Northern Evening

“Much of Mr. Lloyd’s book is bright, fresh, and ingenious.... The plot
is cleverly conceived, and shows careful treatment from beginning to
end.... There are in ‘Children of Chance’ notable instances where a deep
insight into human nature is perceptible; many scenes, such as that
which closes on the life of the deserted wife, show a touch of pathos of
which many a more noted author might feel justly proud; while at times
the dialogue is far from indifferent.”—_Hull News._

“‘Children of Chance’ is the pioneer volume of Andrews’ ‘Library of
Fiction.’ It ought to win its way to popular favour. Its attractive
binding and excellent printing are commendable features, while the story
itself displays high literary merit. Mr. Lloyd does not lack the modern
fiction writer’s capacity for the creation of sensational incidents; but
he manages his plots with ingenuity and success, and his morality is
thoroughly sound.”—_North Eastern Daily Gazette._

                        LONDON: HUTCHINSON & CO.

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