REIGN OF JAMES VI.: 1591-1603. (continued 5)
Reading edition
1603.
At eight o’clock in the evening of the 30th of January, being Sunday, Francis Mowbray was found dying at the foot of the Castle rock. It was stated that he had sewed his blankets together, and let himself down over the wall; but the line being too short, he fell, and mortally injured himself. The unfortunate man died in the course of the night. An attempt was made by some friends to raise a report that he had been thrown over the window; but this was believed by few, and really is not very credible. The authorities shewed no hesitation about the matter; but, concluding on the guilt of the deceased, had his body dragged backwards through the streets to the bar of the Court of Justiciary, where sentence was duly passed against him. The corpse was then dealt with as Birrel relates. The superstitious remarked the verification of the fearful words of the deceased—that he might fall at his enemies’ feet, and become a spectacle to all Edinburgh.—Pit. Cal. Spot. Notes to Russell’s edition of Spottiswoode, 1851.
This year was published in Edinburgh a comedy, entitled Philotus, which we must consider as a curiosity in its way, since it is the first known effort of the Scottish muse in that department of literature.285 It is founded on a story which we find under the name of Philotus and Emilia in a volume by Barnaby Riche, originally published in 1581,286 being, in plain terms, a somewhat licentious Italian novel. The Scotch comedy is in rhymed verse, and entirely in the characteristic Scotch manner of that age; but not a shadow of plausible conjecture has yet been indulged in regarding the possible author.287
The main series of incidents involves the fate of a young woman, Emilia, who is solicited to become the second wife of Philotus, an old and rich man. A Macrell, or go-between, is employed to bring her to his wishes, and addresses her in a long speech, which incidentally illustrates the life of a fine lady of that age:
1603.
‘Ye neither mell with lad nor loon, But with the best in all this toun; His wife may ay sit foremost doun, At either buird or bink, Gang foremost in at door or yett, And ay the first guid-day wald get, With all men honourit and weel-tret, As ony heart wald think. See what a woman’s mind may meese,288 And hear what honour, wealth, and ease, Ye may get with him, an ye please To do as I devise:
Your fire sall first be burning clear, Your maidens then sall have your geir289 Put in guid order and effeir,290 Ilk morning or291 you rise. And say: ‘Lo, mistress, here your muils;292 Put on your wyliecoat or it cuils; Lo, here ane of your velvet stuils, Whereon ye sall sit doun: Then twasome come to kame your hair, Put on your head-geir soft and fair; Tak there your glass—see all be clair; And sae gaes on your goun. Then tak, to stanch your morning drouth, Ane cup of Malvoisie, for your mouth; For fume cast succar in a fouth,293 Together with a toast. Three garden gowps294 tak of the air, And bid your page in haste prepare, For your disjune, some dainty fair, And care not for nae cost. Ane pair of plovers piping het, Ane partrick and ane quailie get, Ane cup of sack, sweet and weel set, May for ane breakfast gain.295 Your cater he may care for syne Some delicate, again’ you dine; Your cook to season all sae fine, Then does employ his pain. To see your servants may you gang, And look your maidens all amang, And, gif there ony wark be wrang, Then bitterly them blame: Then may ye have baith quoifs and kells,296 Hich candie ruffs, and barlet bells, All for your wearing and nought els, Made in your house at hame. And now when all thir warks are done, For your refreshing after noon, Gar bring into your chamber soon, Some dainty dish of meat; Ane cup or twa with Muscadel, Some other licht thing therewithal— For raisins or for capers call, Gif that ye please to eat.
Till supper time then may ye chuse, Into your garden to repose, Or merrily to tak ane gloze,297 Or tak ane book and read on; Syne to your supper are ye brought, Till fare, full far that has been sought, And dainty dishes dearly bought, That ladies love to feed on. The organs then, into your hall, With shalm and timbrel sound they sall, The viol and the lute withal, To gar your meat digest: The supper done, then up ye rise, To gang ane while, as is the guise298— By ye have roamit ane alley thrice, It is a mile almaist. Then ye may to your chalmer gang, Beguile the nicht, gif it be lang, With talk, and merry mows299 amang, To elevate the spleen. For your collation tak ane taste, Some little licht thing till digest, At nicht use Rhen’sh wine ay almaist For it is cauld and clean. And for your back I dare be bold, That ye sall wear even as ye wold, With double garnishings of gold, And crape above your hair. Your velvet hat, your hood of state, Your missle300 when ye gang the gait, Frae sun and wind, baith air and late, To keep that face sae fair. Of Paris wark, wrought by the lave,301 Your fine half-cheinyies ye sall have; For to decore, ane carkat302 crave, That comely collar-bane. Your great gold cheinyie for your neck, Be bowsome to the carle, and beck, For he has gold eneuch, what-reck? It will stand on nane. 1603. And for your gouns, ay the new guise Ye with your tailors may devise, To have them loose with plaits and plies, Or claspit close behind:
The stuff, my heart, ye need not hain, Pan velvet raised, figurit or plain, Silk, satin, damask, or grograin, The finest ye can find. Your claiths on colours cuttit out, And all pasmented303 round about, My blessing on that seemly snout, Sae weel, I trow, sall set them! Your shanks304 of silk, your velvet shoon, Your broidered wyliecoat aboon, As ye devise, all sall be done, Uncraipit, when ye get them. Your tablet, by your halse305 that hings, Gold bracelets, and all other things, And all your fingers full of rings, With pearls and precious stanes, Ye sall have ay while ye cry ho, Rickles306 of gold and jewels too, What reck to tak the bogle-go, My bonny bird, for anes.’
Feb. 9.
This is the date of an outbreak of private warfare which throws all contemporary events of the same kind into the shade.
1603.
In pursuance of a quarrel of some standing between the Clan Gregor and Colquhoun, Laird of Luss, the former came in force to the banks of Loch Lomond. The parties met in Glenfruin, and the Colquhouns, out-manœuvred by the enemy, were overthrown. The Macgregors, besides killing a number of persons, variously stated at three score and four score, in the battle, are alleged to have murdered a number of prisoners (amongst whom, by the way, was Tobias Smollett, bailie of Dumbarton, very likely an ancestor of the novelist, his namesake), and also some poor unarmed people. The whole slaughter is set down at 140 persons. Besides all this, they carried off 600 cattle, 800 sheep and goats, fourteen score of horse and mares, ‘with the haill plenishing, gudes and geir, of the four-score-pound land of Luss, burning and destroying everything else.’ It has been alleged that they killed the laird after taking him prisoner, and murdered a number of school-boys from the college or school of Dumbarton; but these would appear to be groundless charges. Such as their guilt was, it proved the commencement of a long course of oppression and misery endured by this clan. According to a contemporary writer, a mournful procession came to Edinburgh, bearing eleven score of bloody shirts, to excite the indignation of the king against the Macgregors. There being no friend of the Macgregors present to plead their cause, letters of intercommuning were immediately issued against them.
The feeling of a state-officer of these days regarding the unruly population of the north, comes strongly out in a letter of the President Lord Fyvie, written to the king a few weeks after he had gone to London. ‘Your majesty will understand by your Council’s letters the estate and proceedings with the Macgregors. Gif all the great Highland clans war at the like point, I wald think it ane great ease and weel to this commonwealth, and to your majesty’s guid subjects here.‘307
It was arranged soon after that a large number of the Clan Gregor should be deported from the country, but whither does not appear. The Privy Council requested the king to allow a ship to be sent for them, ‘seeing all these wha are to depart, in whilk number the laird himself is ane, are ... unable of themselves aither to defray their charges, furnish themselves of victuals, or pay their fraught.’
Witch seated on the Moon.—From a Sculpture in Elgin Cathedral.