REIGN OF JAMES VI.: 1603-1625. (continued 4)

‘The sea at certain places doth leak or soak into the mine, which by the industry of Sir George Bruce is conveyed to one well near the land, where he hath a device like a horse-mill, with three great horses and a great chain of iron, going downward many fathoms, with thirty-six buckets attached to the chain, of the which eighteen go down still to be filled, and eighteen ascend still to be emptied, which do empty themselves without any man’s labour into a trough that conveys the water into the sea again.... Besides, he doth make every week ninety or a hundred tons of salt, which doth serve most part of Scotland; some he sends into England, and very much into Germany.’

The pennyless pilgrim proceeded to Stirling, of whose castle and palace he speaks in terms of high admiration; stating, moreover, that at his host Mr John Archibald’s, his only difficulty was for ‘room to contain half the good cheer that he might have had.’ Advancing to St Johnston (Perth), he lodged at an inn kept by one Patrick Pitcairn. It was his design to visit Sir William Murray of Abercairny; but he here learned that that gentleman had left home on a hunting excursion. It was suggested that he might overtake him at Brechin; but on reaching that city, he found that Sir William had left it four days before.

1618.

Taylor now made a journey such as few Englishmen had any experience of in that age. Proceeding along Glen Esk, and passing by a road which lay over a lofty precipice, he lodged the first night at a poor cot on the Laird of Edzell’s land, where nothing but Erse was spoken, and where he suffered somewhat from vermin—the only place, however, in Scotland where he met any such troubles. With immense difficulty, he next day crossed Mount Skene by an uneven stony way, full of bogs, quagmires, and long heath, ‘where a dog with three legs would outrun a horse with four,’ and came in the evening to Braemar. This he describes as a large county, full of lofty mountains, compared with which English hills are but ‘as a liver or a gizzard below a capon’s wing.’ ‘There I saw Benawne [Ben Aven], with a furred mist upon his snowy head, instead of a night-cap.’

He here found his friend, Sir William Murray, engaged in Highland sports, along with the Earl of Mar, the Earl of Enzie (afterwards second Marquis of Huntly), the Earl of Buchan, and Lord Erskine, accompanied by their countesses, and a hundred other knights and squires, with their followers, ‘all in general in one habit, as if Lycurgus had been there.’ ‘For once in the year, which is the whole month of August, and sometimes part of September, many of the nobility and gentry of the kingdom, for their pleasure, come into these Highland countries to hunt, where they conform to the habit of the Highlandmen, who for the most part speak nothing but Irish.... Their habit is shoes with but one sole apiece; stockings which they call short hose, made of a warm stuff of divers colours, which they call tartan: as for breeches, many of them, nor their forefathers, never wore any, but a jerkin of the same stuff that their hose is of, their garters being bands or wreaths of hay or straw, with a plaid about their shoulders, which is a mantle of divers colours, [of] much finer and lighter stuff than their hose; with flat blue caps on their heads, a handkerchief knit with two knots about their neck; and thus they are attired.... Their weapons are long bows and forked arrows, swords and targets, harquebusses, muskets, durks, and Lochaber axes. With these arms, I found many of them armed for the hunting. As for their attire, any man of what degree soever that comes amongst them, must not disdain to wear it; for if they do, they will disdain to hunt, or willingly to bring in their dogs; but if men be kind to them, and be in their habit, then they are conquered with kindness, and the sport will be plentiful. This was the reason that I found so many noblemen and gentlemen in those shapes.’

1618.

Taylor allowed himself to be invested by the Earl of Mar in Highland attire, and then accompanied the party for twelve days into a wilderness devoid of corn and human habitations—probably the district around the skirts of Ben Muicdhui. He found temporary lodges called lonchards, designed for the use of the sportsmen, and he himself received a kind of accommodation in that of Lord Erskine. The kitchen, he tells us, was ‘always on the side of a bank, many kettles and pots boiling, and many spits turning and winding, with great variety of cheer, as venison—baked, sodden, roast, and stewed beef—mutton, goats, kid, hares, fresh salmon, pigeons, hens, capons, chickens, partridge, moorcoots, heath-cocks, cappercailzies, and termagants; good ale, sack, white and claret, tent (or Alicant), with most potent aquavitæ.’ Thus a company of about fourteen hundred persons was most amply fed.

‘The manner of the hunting is this: five or six hundred men rise early in the morning, and disperse themselves divers ways, and seven, eight, or ten miles compass, they bring or chase in the deer in many herds (two, three, or four hundred in a herd), to such or such a place, as the noblemen shall appoint them. Then, when day is come, the lords and gentlemen of their companies ride or go to the said places, sometimes wading up to the middle, through burns and rivers; and then they, being come to the place, lie down on the ground, till those foresaid scouts, who are called the Tinchel-men, bring down the deer.... After we had stayed there three hours or thereabouts, we might perceive the deer appear on the hills round about us (their heads making a show like a wood), which, being followed close by the Tinchel, are chased down into the valley where we lay. Then, all the valley on each side being waylaid with a hundred couple of strong Irish greyhounds, they are let loose, as occasion serves, upon the herd of deer, [so] that with dogs, guns, arrows, durks, and daggers, in the space of two hours, fourscore fat deer were slain, which after are disposed, some one way and some another, twenty or thirty miles, and more than enough left for us to make merry withal at our rendezvous’.

1618.

After spending some days in this manner in the Brae of Mar, the party, attended by Taylor, went into Badenoch, and renewed the sport there for three or four days, concluding with a brief visit to Ruthven Castle. This grand old fortress—anciently the stronghold of the Cumins, lords of Badenoch—seated on an alluvial promontory jutting into the haugh beside the Spey, occupying an area of a hundred and twenty yards long, and consisting of two great towers surrounded by a fortified wall with an iron gate and portcullis,383 was now the property of the Gordon family. Here, says Taylor, ‘my Lord of Enzie and his noble countess (being daughter to the Earl of Argyle) did give us most noble welcome for three days.’ ‘From thence we went to a place called Ballo[ch] Castle, a fair and stately house, a worthy gentleman being the owner of it, called the Laird of Grant.384... Our cheer was more than sufficient, and yet much less than they could afford us. There stayed there four days four earls, one lord, divers knights and gentlemen, and their servants, footmen, and horses; and every meal four long tables furnished with all varieties; our first and second course being threescore dishes at one board; and after that always a banquet; and there, if I had not forsworn wine till I came to Edinburgh, I think I had there drank my last.’

The Water-poet was afterwards four days at Tarnaway, entertained in the same hospitable manner by the Earl and Countess of Moray. He speaks of Morayland as the pleasantest and most plentiful country in Scotland, ‘being plain land, that a coach may be driven more than four-and-thirty miles one way in it, alongst the sea-coast,’ He spent a few days with the Marquis of Huntly at the Bog, ‘where our entertainment was, like himself, free, bountiful, and honourable,’ and then returned by the Cairn-a-mount to Edinburgh.

Here he was again in the midst of plentiful good cheer and good company for eight days, while recovering from certain bruises he had got at the Highland hunting. In Leith, at the house of Mr John Stuart, he found his ‘long approved and assured good friend, Mr Benjamin Jonson,’ who gave him a piece of gold of the value of twenty-two shillings, to drink his health in England. ‘So with a friendly farewell, I left him as well as I hope never to see him in a worse estate; for he is among noblemen and gentlemen that know his true worth and their own honours, where with much respective love he is worthily entertained.’

In short, Taylor, in his progress through Scotland, seems to have been everywhere feasted sumptuously, and supplied liberally with money. So much of a virtue comparatively rare in England, and so much plenty in a country which his own people were accustomed to think of as the birthplace of famine, seems to have greatly astonished him. The wonder comes to a climax at Cockburnspath, near his exit from Scotland, where he was handsomely entertained at an inn by Master William Arnot and his wife, the owners thereof. ‘I must explain,’ he says, ‘their bountiful entertainment of guests, which is this:

1618.

‘Suppose ten, fifteen, or twenty men and horses come to lodge at their house. The men shall have flesh, tame and wild fowl, fish, with all variety of good cheer, good lodging, and welcome, and the horses shall want neither hay nor provender; and at the morning at their departure the reckoning is just nothing. This is this worthy gentleman’s use, his chief delight being to give strangers entertainment gratis! And I am sure that in Scotland, beyond Edinburgh, I have been at houses like castles for building; the master of the house’s beaver being his blue bonnet, one that will wear no other shirts but of the flax that grows on his own ground, and of his wife’s, daughters’, or servants’ spinning; that hath his stockings, hose, and jerkin of the wool of his own sheep’s backs; that never by his pride of apparel caused mercer, draper, silk-man, embroiderer, or haberdasher, to break and turn bankrupt; and yet this plain home-spun fellow keeps and maintains thirty, forty, fifty servants, or perhaps more, every day relieving three or four score poor people at his gate; and besides all this, can give noble entertainment for four days together to five or six earls and lords, besides knights, gentlemen, and their followers, if they be three or four hundred men and horse of them, where they shall not only feed but feast, and not feast but banquet; this is a man that desires to know nothing so much as his duty to God and his king, whose greatest cares are to practise the works of piety, charity, and hospitality. He never studies the consuming art of fashionless fashions; he never tries his strength to bear four or five hundred acres on his back at once; his legs are always at liberty, not being fettered with golden garters and manacled with artificial roses.... Many of these worthy housekeepers there are in Scotland....

1618.

In the summer of this year, Scotland received a visit from the famous Ben Jonson. The burly laureate walked all the way, notwithstanding a previous hint from Lord Bacon, that ‘he loved not to see Poesy go on other feet than poetical Dactylus and Spondæus.’ Among the motives for a journey then undertaken by few Englishmen, might be curiosity regarding a country from which he knew that his family was derived, his grandfather having been one of the Johnstons of Annandale. He had many friends, too, particularly among the connections of the Lennox family, whom he might be glad to see at their own houses. Indeed, his biographer, Gifford, expressly says he had received from some of these friends an invitation to spend some time amongst them in the north. In September, he was found by Taylor the water-poet, residing with one Mr John Stuart in Leith; and Taylor speaks of him generally as being then ‘among noblemen and gentlemen who knew his true worth and their own honours, where with much respective love he is entertained.’

Among those with whom he had amicable intercourse, was William Drummond, the poet, then in the prime of life, and living as a bachelor in his romantic mansion of Hawthornden, on the Esk, seven miles from Edinburgh. It is probable that Drummond and Jonson had met before in London, and indulged together in the ‘wit-combats’ at the Mermaid and similar scenes. Indeed, there is a prevalent belief in Scotland that it was mainly to see Drummond at Hawthornden that Jonson came so far from home. The story is, that the pilgrim came first to Hawthornden, and was received by Drummond with wonted ceremony, under the Covine Tree—that is, company tree—which still stands on the lawn in front of the house, when their greetings very appropriately took the form of a couplet:

1618.

the laureate having already learned to address a Scottish laird by what Scott calls ‘his territorial appellation.’ Be this as it may, we have no authentic notice of any intercourse between the two poets till the commencement of the ensuing year, when they undoubtedly spent a considerable time together, as it was then that they had those Conversations, which, being noted down by Drummond, and published many years after in his Works, have furnished so much food for modern controversy. These memoranda partly relate facts regarding Jonson himself, but chiefly report his opinions of his poetical contemporaries, which are generally of a censorious character. Added to them, however, is Drummond’s report on Jonson himself, in these terms: ‘Ben Jonson was a great lover and praiser of himself, a contemner and scorner of others, given rather to lose a friend than a jest; jealous of every word and action of those about him, especially after drink, which is one of the elements in which he lived; a dissembler of the parts which reign in him; a bragger of some good that he wanted; thinketh nothing well done but what either he himself or some of his friends have said or done. He is passionately kind and angry, careless either to gain or keep; vindictive, but if he be well answered, at himself; interprets best sayings and deeds often to the worst. He was for any religion, as being versed in both; oppressed with fancy, which hath overmastered his reason, a general disease in many poets,’ &c. Drummond has been severely blamed for stating so much, even privately, regarding a man whom he treated with all the external marks of friendship; but the censure seems scarcely just. It is not necessarily to be supposed that he was the less sensible of the merits of Jonson, that he also observed his being marked by that vanity, impulsiveness, and irritability which have been remarked in so many poets. Neither may he have loved him the less—possibly he only loved him the more—because of his faults. As to the act of taking such notes, some allowance may be made for a man of literary tastes, living at a distance from the centre of the world of letters, in an age when there were no periodicals to prattle about literary celebrities, or an opportunity occurring of hearing a famous poet talk of his poetical brethren, and of seeing that eminent person revealing his own character.

A letter written by Drummond to Jonson in this very month, and probably only a few days after their conversation, has been preserved:386

‘TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, MR BENJAMIN JONSON.

‘Sir—Here you have that epigram you desired, with another of the like argument. If there be any other thing in this country (unto which my power can reach), command it; there is nothing I wish more than to be in the calendar of them who love you. I have heard from court that the late masque was not so much approved of the king as in former times, and that your absence was regretted—such applause hath true worth, even of those who otherwise are not for it. Thus, to the next occasion taking my leave, I remain

Your loving friend, William Drummond. January 17, 1619.’

1618.

From a consideration of the whole circumstances, it is most likely that Jonson had spent some time in autumn with his Lennox friends, and thus been introduced to the romantic beauties of Loch Lomond, and perhaps also to the romantic sports indulged in by the gentry of its neighbourhood. Certain it is, from Drummond’s report of his conversations, that he designed ‘to write a Fisher or Pastoral Play, and make the stage of it on the Lomond Lake.’ And after he had returned to London, Drummond sent him ‘a description of Loch Lomond, with a map of Inch Merinoch,’ which, he says, ‘may by your book be made most famous.’ It is possible, however, that this description of Loch Lomond and map of Inch Merinoch—one of the many isles in the lake—may have been intended for a prose work, which he also contemplated writing—namely, his ‘Foot Pilgrimage’ to Scotland, which, with a feeling very natural in one who found so much to admire where so little had been known, he spoke of entitling A Discovery. Unfortunately, this work, as well as a poem in which he called Edinburgh

has not been preserved to us. We can readily see that the work contemplated must have been of a general character, for Jonson wrote to Drummond (London, May 10, 1619), not merely for ‘some things concerning the Loch of Lomond,’ but for copies of ‘the inscriptions at Pinkie,’ referring probably to the Roman antiquities which had been found in Queen Mary’s time at Inveresk, and also bids him ‘urge Mr James Scott,’ and send ‘what else you can procure for me with all speed.’ The king, he adds, was ‘pleased to hear of the purpose of my book.’ How much to be regretted that we have not the Scotland of that day delineated by so vigorous a pen as that of the author of Sejanus!

The last visit Jonson paid in Scotland was to Drummond at Hawthornden in the month of April, just before his return to London, which, as we see, he had reached before the 10th of May. He lived with Drummond on that occasion three weeks, enjoying, doubtless, the vernal beauties of that romantic spot, as well as the converse of his friend, and the more substantial hospitalities for which, if Drummond be right, he had only too keen a relish. Their parting—which, by Scottish use and wont, would be under the Covine Tree, when royal Ben set out on foot as before to return to London—who but wishes he could picture as it really was! Jonson’s letter of the 10th May, written soon after his arrival in London, and breathing of the feelings which his excursion had excited, may aptly conclude this notice:

1618.

‘TO MY WORTHY, HONOURED, AND BELOVED FRIEND, MR W. DRUMMOND.

‘Most loving and beloved Sir—against which titles I should most knowingly offend, if I made you not some account of myself to come even with your friendship—I am arrived safely, with a most Catholic welcome, and my reports not unacceptable to his majesty. He professed, thank God, some joy to see me, and is pleased to hear of the purpose of my book; to which I most earnestly solicit you for your promise of the inscriptions at Pinkie, some things concerning the Loch of Lomond, touching the government of Edinburgh, to urge Mr James Scott, and what else you can procure for me with all speed. Though these requests be full of trouble, I hope they shall neither burthen nor weary such a friendship, whose commands to me I shall ever interpret a pleasure. News we have none here, but what is making against the queen’s funeral, whereof I have somewhat in hand, that shall look upon you with the next. Salute the beloved Fentons, the Nisbets, the Scotts, the Livingstones, and all the honest and honoured names with you, especially Mr James Wroth, your sister, &c. And if you forget yourself, you believe not in

Your most true friend and lover, Ben Jonson.387 London, May 10, 1619.’

1618.

At the very time when Ben Jonson and John Taylor had the pleasant experiences of the Highlands which are above described and adverted to, sundry parts of that province of Scotland were the scene of lawless violences, which these English poets could not have heard of without horror. M‘Ronald of Gargarach,388 ‘with a band of lawless limmers his assisters and accomplices,’ went about ‘committing murders, slaughters, treasonable fire-raisings, and other insolencies, in all parts where they had any mastery or command.’ It was necessary to give his rival and antagonist, Sir Lachlan MacIntosh, a commission ‘to pursue him to the deid with fire and sword.’ At the same time, several men of the Clan Campbell, taking advantage of the absence of their chief, the Earl of Argyle, ‘has lately broken louss, and goes athort the country, in companies, sorning [upon] and oppressing his majesty’s guid subjects, in all parts where they may be masters.’ The earl, it appeared, had nominated none in his absence ‘to have the charge and burden to retein his clan and country under obedience.’ To supply this defect, the Council (July 9, 1618) summoned the chief men of the name—the Lairds of Glenurchy, Caddell, Lawers, Auchinbreck, and Glenlyon—to give information about the delinquents, and surety for the future peace of the country.

Contemporaneously with these outrages, were others of the like nature committed by ‘a number of vagabonds and broken men of the Clan Donochie (Robertsons),’ particularly in the lands of Simon Lord Fraser of Lovat.—P. C. R.

It may be remarked that the Earl of Argyle had gone abroad, either from dissatisfaction with the rewards assigned him for his putting down of the Macgregors and MacConnel of Kintyre,389 or because of troubles on account of his debts.390 To the surprise of his countrymen, he entered the service of Philip III. against the people of the Low Countries, and, by the persuasion of his wife, joined the Church of Rome. The poet Craig thus satirised him:

The king felt as indignant as any, and on the 4th of February 1619, the Privy Council had this ‘shameful defection’ under its notice. It was alleged that the apostate earl not only goes openly to mass, but has associated with ‘auld M‘Ranald’ and sundry other exiled rebels. Sundry charges against him having been slighted, the Council now ‘do repute him as a traitor,’ and ordain him to be pursued as such. The earl, who, before leaving his country, had handed over his estates to his son, did not return till he was enabled to do so by the grace of Charles I. in 1638.

Aug. 20.

1618.

Thomas Ross, a man of good family, formerly minister of Cargill, in Perthshire, had gone to Oxford to study; but in a moment of partial lunacy—for the act can be accounted for in no other way—he wrote a libel on the Scottish nation, and affixed it to the door of St Mary’s Church. It spoke in scurrilous terms of the people of Scotland, excepting only the king and a few others, and counselled that the king should banish all Scots from his court. James took the matter in high dudgeon, and had Ross sent down to Scotland, with strict orders to bring him to condign punishment. He was accordingly tried at the date marginally noted, for an act of which the design was assumed to be to have stirred up the people of England ‘to the cruel, barbarous, and unmerciful murdering, massacring, and assassine of the haill Scots people, as well noblemen and councillors as others, attendants about his highness’s royal person in court.’ The unfortunate satirist professed penitence, and craved mercy, averring that he had been inops mentis at the time of his committing the act. Nothing could avail to save him. His right hand was first struck off, and then he was beheaded and quartered, his head being fixed on a prick at the Nether Bow Port, and his hand at the West Port.—Pit.

Aug. 29.

Mr John Guthrie, minister of Perth, ‘on ane Sunday after the afternoon’s sermon, married the Master of Sanquhar with Sir Robert Swift’s daughter, ane English knight in Yorkshire. Neither of the parties exceeded thirteen years of age.’—Chron. Perth.

Nov. 18.

‘About the midst of November, there appeared a prodigious comet in the morning, in the north-east, broad, and stretching with a large tail towards the north-west. It appeared fine and clear some few days in the beginning, and after became more dim and obscure, and vanished away at last in the north. This comet by appearance portended the wars of Germany, which began not long after, and continueth yet to this hour.’—Cal.

Dr Bembridge, ‘a very profound and learned mathematician,’ obliged the king with an account of this comet. He told him it was as far above the moon as the moon is above the earth, and not less than 2,300,000 English miles! Rushworth speaks of it as followed by, first, the Bohemian wars, then the German and Swedish, &c. ‘Dr Bembridge observed it to be vertical to London, and to pass over it in the morning; so it gave England and Scotland in their civil wars a sad wipe with its tail.’—Foun. Hist. Ob.

This notable comet was observed in Silesia, Rome, and Ispahan. From Skipton’s observations, Halley afterwards computed its orbit. It passed its perihelion on the 8th of November, at little more than a third of the earth’s distance from the sun. On the 9th of December, its tail was 70° in length, being, according to Kepler, the longest that had been seen for a hundred and fifty years.

1618. Dec. 23.

This comet is also remarkable as the only one, besides another in 1607, which was observable by the naked eye in the first half of the seventeenth century; whereas in other spaces of time of the same extent, as many as thirteen have been detected. The comet of 1607, which is the same with that seen in 1682, 1759, and 1835, and usually known as Halley’s comet, is not mentioned by any of our contemporary chroniclers as having been visible in Scottish skies.

Christmas was observed in Edinburgh at the command of the king, and two churches opened for service; but the attendance was scant. ‘The Great Kirk was not half filled, notwithstanding the provost, bailies, and council’s travels.... The dogs were playing in the flure of the Little Kirk, for rarity of people, and these were of the meaner sort.... Mr Patrick [Galloway] denounced judgments ... famine of the word, deafness, blindness, lameness, inability to come to the kirk to hear and see, to fall upon those who came not to his Christmas sermon.’—Cal.

A few weeks afterwards, Richard Lawson, James Cathkin, and John Mean, merchants, were obliged to appear before the Court of High Commission, accused of ‘not coming to the kirk on Christmas-day, for opening of their booth-doors, walking before them in time of sermon, dissuading others from going to the kirk, and reasoning against preaching on that day. They answered they did nothing of contempt; they reasoned to receive instruction, and to try what warrant others had. They were dismissed, with an admonition to be modest in their speeches and behaviour in time coming.’—Cal.

On Christmas-day 1621, there was service in the Old Kirk in St Giles, which the magistrates and state officials attended; but no other church was open, and Calderwood informs us that ‘one hundred and six booth-doors or thereby stood open’—a proof of the general disregard of the festival.

1618.

Patrick Anderson, doctor of physic, and who is usually said to have been physician to Charles I., published a tract on the ‘Cold spring of Kinghorn,’ its admirable properties for the cure of sundry diseases. He took care to draw a distinction between the simply natural efficacy of this well and ‘the superstitious mud-earth wells of Menteith, or our Lady Well of Strathern, and our Lady Well of Ruthven, with a number of others in this country, all tapestried about with old rags, as certain signs and sacraments, wherewith they arle the devil.’391 He further assured the public that the ‘clear and delicate cauld water’ of this spring, being drunk in great quantity, ‘is never for all that felt in the belly.’ Modern physiologists, it may be remarked, admit the rapid absorption of saline waters by the stomach; and the drinking of nine tumblers before breakfast is at this day not uncommon at Airthry.

Dr Patrick Anderson was the inventor of a pill of aloetic character, which long had a great celebrity in Scotland, and is still in such repute that an agency-office for its sale may be found in both Edinburgh and London. He is the more entitled to some notice here, as our work has been somewhat indebted to a History of Scotland by him, to be found in manuscript in the Advocates’ Library.

At this time, one Thomas Milne was a maker of virginals in Aberdeen—a calling, however, ‘but lately put in practice in the burgh.’ The trade must have been tolerably encouraged, as John Davidson, who had served an apprenticeship under Milne, now proposed to set up for himself. On his exhibiting a pair of virginals of his own making as his ‘master-stick’ before the Council, they gave him the freedom of the burgh without a fee, which he was too poor to pay.—Ab. C. R.

1619. Feb. 15.

Died, ‘Mr William Cowper, Bishop of Galloway, a very holy and good [man], if he had not been corrupted with superior powers and warldly cares of a bishopric and other such things. He was buried at the south door of the new kirk callit the South Kirk, in the Greyfriars’ Yard, or common burial-place of Edinburgh, whilk kirk was newly completed, and at the funeral sermon consecrated by Mr John Spottiswoode, archbishop of Sanctandrews.’—Jo. H.

1619.

Cowper was an eloquent and able man, and had been conspicuous for his zeal against bishops, ‘appearing to all men to hate very much that lordly dignity in a kirkman, comparing them and their godless followers to snuffs of candles, whilk not only is destitute of light, but also casts out a filthy flewrish stink in man’s noses.’ To a former friend, who had accepted a bishopric, he wrote a despiteful letter, telling him he had fallen away and apostatised, and while he still loved himself, he hated his way. Afterwards, ‘perceiving the courses of the bishops daily going forward, and being a proud ambitious man, glorying in his gifts, he began first privately to be social and homely with the bishops, and then, after the Golden Assembly at Glasgow in 1610, perceiving that the bishops had gotten all their intent, he also embraced a bishopric, and (1612) was created Bishop of Galloway.’

Peeling that his conduct had been inconsistent, Cowper wrote an apology, which mainly came to this, that he had got more light than he had before. ‘One answered merrily: “It is true; for now he has upon his table two great candles, whereas before he had but one small candle—other more light I know none.”’

In the end, he announced from the pulpit, he would give full satisfaction to all who would come and confer with him. ‘Upon whilk invitation, so many came to him, both in the fields and in his own house, that he was wearied with them.’ [According to the Chronicle of Perth—‘The wives of Edinburgh came in to him, and shewed to him his awn books against friers’ books.’] One person went so far as to charge him with apostasy, and call upon him to prepare an answer shortly to the Judge of all the world. It would appear from what followed that the bishop was by this time out of health. ‘Within a day or two after, being at his pastime [golf?] in the Links of Leith, he was terrified with a vision, or an apprehension; for he said to his playfellows, after he had in an affrighted and commoved way cast away his play-instruments: “I vow to be about with these two men, who have now come upon me with drawn swords!” When his playfellows replied: “My lord, it is a dream: we saw no such thing,” he was silent, went home trembling, took bed instantly, and died.’—Row.

Mar. 23.

It had been a custom of the congregations in Edinburgh to hold a meeting on the Tuesday before the administration of the communion. ‘If anything was amiss in the lives, doctrines, or any part of the office of their pastors, every man had liberty to shew wherein they were offended; and if anything was found amiss, the pastors promised to amend it. If they had anything likewise to object against the congregation, it was likewise heard, and amendment was promised. If there was any variance among neighbours, pains were taken to make reconciliation, that so both pastors and people might communicate in love at the banquet of love.’ On the present occasion, the affair had much the character of a modern public meeting, and the people stood boldly up to their pastors, arguing against the innovations of worship now about to be introduced, particularly kneeling at the sacrament.—Cal.

1619.

‘At various times in the year 1621, there were private meetings of ministers and other good Christians in Edinburgh, setting apart days for fasting, praying, and humiliation, crying to God for help in such a needful time; whilk exercises, joined with handling of Scripture, resolving of questions, clearing doubts, and tossing of cases of conscience, were very comfortable.... Thir meetings the bishops and their followers, enemies still to the power of godliness and life of religion, hated to the death; and sundry ministers of Edinburgh inveighed against them, under the name of unlawful conventicles, candle-light congregations (because sometimes they continued their exercises for a great part of the night), persecuting them with odious names of Puritans, Separatists, Brownists, &c.’—Row.

One of the Edinburgh clergy ‘sent to Nicolas Balfour, daughter of umwhile Mr James Balfour, minister of Edinburgh, to advertise her that she was to be banished the town, for entertaining such meetings in her house; and reviled her despitefully, when she came to confer with him.’—Cal.

Mar. 28.

This day, being Easter Sunday, the communion was administered in the Edinburgh churches for the first time after it had been arranged that the people should kneel on receiving the elements. There being a general disrelish for this new form, the people left the town in great numbers to communicate at country churches where the order was not yet appointed. Of those who attended in town, few willingly knelt besides government officials and pauper dependents on the church contributions. ‘Some were dashed and kneeled, but with shedding of tears for grief.’ In some churches throughout the country, certain persons told the ministers: ‘The dangers, if any be, light upon your soul, not on ours!’ Some departed, ‘beseeking God to judge between them and the minister.’ ‘It is not to be passed over, how that when John Lauder, minister at Cockburnspath, was reaching the bread to one kneeling, a black dog started up to snatch it out of his hand.’—Cal.

On next Easter Sunday, the like disinclination to kneeling was shewn. In the College Kirk, where sixteen hundred people communicated, only about twenty kneeled, and it was thought that none would have done so, ‘if they had not brought the poor out of the hospital, to begin, and give a good example.’ These, ‘being aged, poor, and ignorant persons, durst not refuse;’ yet even of them, some, ‘when they were kneeling, knocked on their breasts and lifted up their hands and eyes.’

While the officers of the government and many others joined cordially in the new arrangements, the bulk of the people revolted from them. Whenever they heard of a church in the country where they might be allowed to communicate sitting, they resorted to it in great numbers; ‘whereupon the auditory of the kirks of Edinburgh became rare and thin.’

1619.

On Easter Sunday, 1622, at the communion in the Old Kirk, Edinburgh, ‘among all the two hundred and fifty [communicants] there was not a man of honest countenance but the President, Sir William Oliphant, the Advocate, Sir Henry Wardlaw, the Provost, the Dean of Guild, Dame Dick, the Master of Works’ wife, and two bailies, who communicate not: plaids, gray cloaks, and blue bonnets made the greatest show.’

At the same time, ‘many of the profaner sort were drawn out upon the sixth of May, to May-games in Gilmerton and Roslin; so profanity began to accompany superstition and idolatry, as it had done in former times. Upon the first of May, the weavers in Paul’s Work, English and Dutch, set up a high May-pole, with their garlands and bells hanging at them, whereat was great concourse of people.’—Cal.

Apr. 2.

John Maxwell of Garrarie—‘ane landed gentleman, in the rank of ane baron, worth three thousand merks of yearly rent, and above’—was, with his son, George Maxwell, tried for the crime of treason. Garrarie had, in a crafty manner, possessed himself of the estate and whole worldly means of John M‘Kie of Glashock, who thus became a miserable dependent upon him, almost constantly living in his house. At length, tiring of the company, and probably also of the complaints of the unfortunate Glashock, Garrarie and his son resolved to be rid of him. On the 8th of July 1618, when Glashock was coming by night to the place of Garrarie, the two Maxwells, attended by an armed band of servants, fell upon him, tied his hands and feet, strangled him, and flung his body into a peat-moss.

The accused protested their innocence, and it was necessary twice to postpone proceedings against them, apparently for lack of evidence. Another remarkable circumstance was, that no fewer than seventeen gentlemen of the district incurred fines by failing to appear as jury-men. Notwithstanding these and other impediments, justice asserted its claims, and Garrarie and his son had their heads stricken off at the Cross of Edinburgh, with forfeiture of lands and goods.—Pit.

1619. July 22.

The period at which we have now arrived, being one of internal peace, is distinguished as the time when the practice of several of the useful arts was first introduced into Scotland. Sir George Hay, the Clerk Registrar—ancestor of the Earls of Kinnoul—a man of talent and intelligence, had set up, at the village of Wemyss, in Fife, a small glasswork, being the first known to have existed amongst us. An ironwork, of what nature we are not informed, was also originated by Sir George.

The Privy Council informed the king that Sir George Hay had enterprisingly set up works for iron and glass, which for some years he supported at high charges, in hopes of being remunerated by profits. ‘But now he has found, by experience, that all the country dispatch of his glass in ane haill year will not uphold his glassworks the space of ane month.’ It was entreated that the king would allow of Sir George’s glass being sold unrestrainedly in England, and at the same time restrict the exportation of coal into that country. By such means he admitted he had a hope of thriving.—M. S. P.

It would appear that the native manufacture, after all, prospered; for in February 1621, the Privy Council appointed a commission, including Sir George Hay, to meet and confer anent the glassworks, to examine and try the glass, and see that measures were taken for the full supply of the country, so as to save the introduction of foreign glass.

The commission soon after reported that the glassworks at Wemyss were going on satisfactorily. The cradles or cases contained fifteen wisps, each wisp having three tables, three-quarters of a Scots ell and a nail in depth. The glass was fully as good as Danskine glass, though they could wish it to be ‘thicker and tewcher.’ Being less sure of the character of the drinking-glasses produced, they recommended patterns of English glass of that kind to be established in Edinburgh Castle, for trying the sufficiency of Scots glass in all time coming. On the strength of this report, the Council granted the desired monopoly as against foreign glassmakers, on certain conditions, one of which was, that the price of ‘braid glass’ should not exceed ‘twelve punds the cradle.’—P. C. R.

Oct. 20.

1619.

Before this time, soap was imported into Scotland from foreign countries, chiefly from Flanders. It was estimated that the entire quantity brought in was about a hundred and twenty lasts. The king now gave a patent to Mr Nathaniel Uddart for the manufacture of soap within the country, and Mr Nathaniel accordingly raised a goodly work at Leith, furnishing it with all matters pertaining to the business. Before he had been at work two years (June 21, 1621), he petitioned the Privy Council that foreign soap should be prohibited, professing to be able himself to furnish all that was required for the use of the country people, and thus save money from being sent out of the country—a piece of false political economy much in favour, as we have seen, in those days. The Privy Council, after taking some pains to ascertain the character of ‘Mr Nathaniel his soap,’ and becoming convinced that he could furnish the quantity needful, granted the prohibition requested, but not without fixing down the native manufacturer at a maximum price. This was decreed to be £24 per barrel for ‘green soap,’ and £32 per barrel for ‘white soap,’ each barrel to contain sixteen stone.

If we are right in considering the stone at 17·39 pounds avoirdupois, and the last as containing twelve barrels, the estimated amount of regularly manufactured soap annually used in Scotland at that time might be approximately 400,880 pounds. In 1845, taking its consumption of the same article as one-seventh of that of Great Britain, Scotland consumed about twenty-seven million pounds!

Matters had not proceeded upon the footing of protection for above two years, when complaints became rife as to the inconveniences sustained by the lieges. The merchants of Edinburgh felt it as a grievance that their traffic for soap with the Low Countries was interrupted. They also complained of the quality of the article produced at Leith. The merchants of Dumfries and other distant ports groaned at being obliged to carry soap a long land-journey from Leith, when they could have it brought by ships direct to their doors. In short, it was not to be borne.

The Lords of Council took pains to inform themselves of the whole matter. They also had a letter from the king testifying his ‘dislike of this and others the like restraints, as being a mean to overthrow traffic and to destroy commerce.’ Being now satisfied that Uddart’s privilege was ‘hurtful to the commonweal,’ and that ‘the subjects has not been so commodiously furnist with the soap made by the said Mr Nathaniel as formerly they were with foreign soap,’ they decreed (July 1623) that the restraint should terminate in a year, or sooner, if he should produce an inferior or dearer article.—P. C. R.

1620. Mar. 30. 1620.

While the struggle was going on between the Episcopalian and Presbyterian principles, there was a small group of Edinburgh citizens, including the booksellers Cathkin and Lawson, who took a lead in opposing the new practices, and standing up against the dictates of the High Commission. Deeply impressed with evangelical doctrine, and viewing all ceremonies as tending to the corruption of pure religion, they were disposed to venture a good way in the course they entered upon. Their wranglings in the kirk-session against ministers of the court fashion, and their earnest private exercises, were fully known to the king; but he bore with them till they began to lend countenance and active help to the few refractory ministers who fell under the ban of the bishops. He then, at the date noted, ordered them to be removed as ‘evil weeds’ from Edinburgh—William Rig, merchant, and James Cathkin, bookseller, to Caithness; Richard Lawson, to Aberdeen; Robert Meiklejohn, skinner, to Dunkeld; John Mean, to Wigton in Galloway; and Thomas Inglis, skinner, to Montrose. This was a great stretch of power in a country professedly under regular laws; and even the state-officers felt it to be so. After some dealings, in the course of which the clergy were eager to negative a suspicion of their having sent the names of the men to the king, the archbishop of St Andrews said he would intercede for them, and meanwhile stayed further proceedings. In the end, the offence of the Edinburgh patriots was passed over for this occasion.—Cal.

The Edinburgh pulpits were at this time filled with men wholly devoted to the Episcopalian system, and such of the people as were strenuous for the Presbyterian model, had to act not merely without clerical leaders, but in despite of clerical opposition. As a specimen of the spirit of these metropolitan clergy—‘Mr William Struthers (January 9, 1619) made a sermon in the Little East Kirk, whilk, by all the holy divines in Scotland, was judged rather to have been a discourse of hateful passion nor a sermon of a charitable divine or loving theologue. For the most part of his haill discourse consisted in calling Christ’s flock of Edinburgh a pack of cruel people, seeking the overthrow of their ministry; calling them also the authors of the Seventeenth of December.392... He also alleged the doings of the good town of that day till be in all histories a foul blot to them for ever. He alleged the people were bund to follow him and the rest of his brethren the ministers, and to do all things that they bade them do, calling the ministers the heid, and the people the tail, and whatever the ministers as the heid spak, it was good and savoury, and whatever the tail or the people spak was unsavoury, adding thereto that the language of the tail was deir of the hearing.... This sermon made me and all the hearers thereof tremble for fear to behold fit untruth spoken in the chair of verity....’—Jo. H.

May 3.

1620.

It has been seen that horse-racing was, from an early time, practised as a public amusement at various places in Scotland. One of these, not formerly noticed, was Paisley. A silver bell of four ounce weight was made in 1608 to serve as a prize for the Paisley race: such was in those days the accustomed prize at a race, giving rise to the proverbial expression—‘He bore off the bell.’ It may be remarked, however, that the winner of a silver bell at a race did not obtain it as permanent property, but only for a year’s keeping, as is customary with the silver arrows and silver clubs now played for by archery and golfing societies.

At the date noted, the Town Council of Paisley, under the guidance of their provost, the Earl of Abercorn, arranged that their annual horse-race should be run on the 6th of May, ‘to be start at the gray stane called St Cormel’s Stane, and frae that richt east to the little house at the causeyend of Renfrew, and frae that the king’s highway to the Wall-neuk of Paisley; and what horse first comes over the score at ... Renfrew, sall have ane double angel; and the horse and master thereof that first comes over the score at the Wall-neuk of Paisley, sall have the said bell with the said burgh’s arms thereon, for that year, together with the rest of the gold that sall be given with the said bell ... except ane double angel that sall be given to the second horse and his master that comes next over the score to the foremost....’ The horses and their owners to gather at Paisley in good time before the race, and the riders to be weighed at the Tron of the burgh. It was also arranged that there should be ‘an aftershot race ... frae ane score at the slates of Ellerslie to ane other score at the causey-head of the burgh of Paisley, by horse of the price of ane hundred merks ... for ane furnished saddle, whilk sall be presented by the said bailies of Paisley present and to come at the score of the said causey-head.’393

1620.

Patrick Anderson, a native of Ross-shire, and nephew of the celebrated Bishop Lesly, had risen by learning and talent to be head of the Scots College at Rome. This situation he left in order to add his exertions to those which a number of his co-religionists were making, at the hazard of their lives, for the recovery of Scotland from what they called the Calvinistic heresy. Dempster speaks of him as ‘moribus innocens ac fide integer,’ and tells us he had no superior in mathematics and theology. Such as he was, he threw himself into this mission with a zeal and gallantry which no generous opponent could now dispute, but which was regarded in the Scotland of his own day as only a diabolic mania for the turning of living souls to death and perdition.

May 18.

Poor Patrick had not practised long, when he was apprehended with his mass-clothes, books, and papers, and committed to prison as a trafficking Romish priest. He owned to the fact of his having performed mass sundry times, but would not tell in whose houses. In the ensuing October, a brother-missionary, an Irishman, named Edmund Cana, was apprehended, along with a younger brother, ‘who carried his mass-clothes, a portable altar, a flagon of wine, and other requisites necessar for the mass.’—Cal.

Possibly, King James had heard of the merits of Father Anderson as a man of learning, and felt some sympathy for him; perhaps the French ambassador made friendly intercession in his behalf. However it was, after the Father had suffered nine months’ imprisonment, the king came to the resolution to shew him some mercy. At his command, the Privy Council liberated the Father from prison, with a suit of good clothes, and some money in his pocket, on condition that he should leave Scotland, and return no more; otherwise, he would be liable to capital punishment. It was enjoined upon the provost and bailies of Edinburgh that they should ‘try and speir out some ship bown from the port of Leith towards France or Flanders; and when the ship is ready to lowse, that they tak the said Patrick Anderson furth of their Tolbooth, carry him to the ship, and deliver him to the skipper, and see him put aboard of the ship; and that they give a strait command and direction to the skipper that the said Anderson be not sufferit to come ashore again till their arrival at their port in France or Flanders, where they sall put him a-land, and sall report a certificate from the magistrates of the town or port where they land, that the said Anderson was set ashore there.’394—P. C. R.

1620.

The Catholic Church was at this time anxiously set upon the recovery of Scotland; and many were they who devoted themselves to the work. We are now disposed to wonder, not merely how so many men were induced to risk their lives in this mission, but how they should have expected to produce conversions in a field so inveterately Protestant. There were, however, some encouraging precedents. It was but recently that St Francis of Sales had brought thousands of the Swiss Calvinists back to the bosom of the church. He and his cousin, Lewis de Sales, entered a Protestant canton in September 1594, amidst the tears and remonstrances of their friends, who believed their task impracticable, as well as dangerous. In the course of a very few years, says Alban Butler, ‘his patience, zeal, and eminent virtue wrought upon the most obdurate, and insensibly wore away their prejudices. It is incredible what fatigues and hardships he underwent in this mission; with what devotion and tears he daily recommended the work of God; with what invincible courage he braved the greatest dangers; with what meekness and patience he bore all manner of affronts and calumnies. In 1596, he celebrated mass on Christmas-day in the church of St Hippolytus at Thonon, and had then made seven or eight hundred converts. In 1598, the public exercise of the Catholic religion was restored, and Calvinism banished by the duke’s orders, over all Chablais and the two bailiwicks of Terni and Guillard.’ At the same time, ‘his extraordinary sweetness, in conjunction with his eminent piety, reclaimed as many vicious Catholics as it converted heretics. The Calvinists ascribe principally to his meekness the wonderful conversions he made amongst them. They were certainly the most obstinate of people at that time near Geneva; yet St Francis converted no fewer than seventy-two thousand of them.’395 Such success in the great stronghold of Calvinism might well engender hopes regarding Scotland, whose determined adherence to the reformed faith had not then been so much tried as we now know it to have been.

June.

The tanning of leather may be said to have been introduced into Scotland at this time. About a dozen tanners from Durham, Morpeth, and Chester-le-Street, were brought in, under royal patronage, in order ‘to instruct the tanners and barkers of the kingdom in the true and perfect form of tanning.’ They were invested with certain privileges, and distributed to various parts of the kingdom. It was hoped through this means that much money, which was usually spent on foreign leather, would now be kept within the kingdom.

1620.

Unfortunately for the success of this reformation, a tax was put upon the leather—four shillings Scots per hide for the first twenty-one years, and thereafter one penny. The consequence was a grievous discontent among the cordwainers, who everywhere did what in them lay to thwart his majesty’s design. ‘To steir the people up to exclaim against it, they have very extraordinarily raised the prices of boots and shoon, to twenty shillings or thereby the pair of boots, and six shillings or thereby the pair of shoon, more nor was paid before;’ thus oppressing the whole country, and particularly the poorer sort of people, besides slandering the king and his Council. In January 1622, the Privy Council dealt with a complaint that many of the tanners throughout the country, disregarding the obvious benefit to themselves and the commonwealth from the new modes, continued the old practice of letting their leather remain but a short time in the pots, and then bringing it to market in a raw state. By way of a stimulus to these persons, a certain number of them were proclaimed rebels.

Oct.

At this time, the Earl of Sutherland being a minor, and the family resources much reduced, the inhabitants of the district ‘did shew themselves exceeding loving and thankful to their Master and superior; for not only did they give a general contribution—every one according to his estate and ability—for defraying of his sister’s portion, who was now to be married to the Laird of Pitfoddels, but also they yielded a voluntary yearly support to the earl and his two brothers’ fitter maintenance at the university for the space of five years.... So much did they value and regard the education and good-breeding of him who was to govern and command them, knowing how much it doth concern every state and country to have weel-bred and wise superiors; which good-will and course of theirs was exceedingly weel thought of by the Earl of Sutherland and his greatest friends.’—G. H. S.

We find it noted that in this year a pearl was found in the burn of Kellie, a tributary of the Ythan, Aberdeenshire, so large and beautiful that it was esteemed the best that had at any time been found in Scotland. Sir Thomas Menzies, provost of Aberdeen, obtaining this precious jewel, went to London to present it to the king, who, in requital, ‘gave him twelve or fourteen chalder of victual about Dunfermline, and the custom of merchant goods in Aberdeen during his life.’396 It has been reported that this pearl was inserted in the apex of the crown of Scotland.

1620.

Apparently this circumstance called the king’s attention to the old repute of certain Scottish rivers for the production of pearls. In January 1621, we find the Privy Council adverting to the fact, that the seeking for pearls had for many years been left to interlopers, who pursued their vocation at unseasonable times, and thus damaged the fishery, to the hurt of his majesty’s interest, he having an undoubted right to all pearls, as he had to all precious metals found in his dominions. Being now inclined to take up pearl-seeking on his own account, he issued a proclamation for the preservation of ‘the waters wherein the pearls do breed;’ and, took measures to have the fishery conducted on a regular plan ‘no pearls to be socht or taken but at such times and seasons of the year when they are at their chief perfection both of colour and quality, whilk will be in the months of July and August yearly.’ The Privy Council commissioned three gentlemen to protect the rivers, and ‘nominat expert and skilful men to fish for pearls at convenient seasons;’ one gentleman for the rivers of Sutherland, another for those of Ross, and another (Mr Patrick Maitland of Auchincroch) for the waters Ythan and Don. The gentleman just named was further made commissioner ‘for receiving to his majesty’s use, of the haill pearls that sall be gotten in the waters within the bounds above written, and who will give reasonable prices for the same; the best of the whilk pearls for bigness and colour he sall reserve to his majesty’s awn use.’

Patrick Maitland gave up his commission in July 1622, and it was then conferred on Robert Buchan, merchant in Aberdeen, who was reputed to be skilful in fishing for pearls, and ‘hath not only taken divers of good value, but hath found some to be in divers waters where none were expected.’—P. C. R.

Among the acts of the first parliament of Charles I. was one for the ‘discharge of Robert Buchan’s patent of the pearl and other monopolies.’ Since then, there has occasionally been successful fishing for pearls in this river; it is said that ‘about the middle of the last century, a gentleman in Aberdeen got £100 for a lot of pearls found in the Ythan.’ The mouth of the river has a great muscle and cockle fishery, and is accordingly the haunt of an extraordinary variety and quantity of sea-fowl. In summer, when the water is low, school-boys often amuse themselves by going in search of pearls, feeling with their toes for the shell, which is distinguished by its curved shape, and griping it when found with a kind of forceps at the end of a long stick.397

1621. Feb. 6.

The church historian Calderwood notes the occurrence of three fires in Edinburgh in one day as being regarded by the people as ‘foretokenings of some mischief.’ ‘About the same time,’ he adds, ‘there came in a great whale at Montrose; which was also apprehendit to be a forerunner of some trouble.’

Mar. 1.

On a complaint that coal had risen to eight shillings the load, the Privy Council had interfered in the usual rash manner, and dictated a certain maximum price to be exacted for the article; namely, seven shillings the load—that is, horse-load; for coal was borne at this time, and for a long time after, on horseback. Certain coal-proprietors—Alexander, Master of Elphinstone; Samuel Johnston of Elphinstone; Sir James Richardson of Smeaton; Robert Richardson of Pencaitland; Jonet Lawson, Lady Fawside; and David Preston of Whitehall—now petitioned, setting forth that the cost of mining coal had greatly risen of late years, and that the dearth of the article to the public was much owing to the base fellows who act as carriers of coals. It was represented that some of the proprietors of ‘coal-heughs’ were £10,000, and some even £20,000 out of pocket. The Master of Elphinstone’s coal of Little Fawside had been on fire for several years; another mine of the same owner had caused an outlay of £8000. The Smeaton pits had been so unproductive for some years as scarcely to supply the laird’s house. The coal of Elphinstone had proved for nine years barren, and 20,000 merks had been sunk upon it, being more than it promised ever to repay. The coal of Mickle Fawside had undone the late laird’s estate, and ‘made him to sell ane part of his auld heritage:’ what with fire on the one hand and water on the other, it was a hopeless case. As for the coal of Pencaitland, it was wasted and decayed, past hope of recovery, but at such extraordinary charges as it was not worth having bestowed upon it. The basis of the evils complained of lay with the coal-carriers, who dealt fraudulently with the public. Had the particulars been rightly known, the lords, it was assumed, would never have given a decreet against the complainers, ‘who are gentlemen of grit charge and burden,’ overlooking the faults of those base fellows who carry coals.

1621.

The lords appointed a commission to inquire into the matter, and report what prices they thought ought to be fixed for this necessary article. In consequence of a report soon after given in by this commission, it was ordained that the price of coal at ‘the hill’ should be 7s. 8d. (7-2/3d. sterling) per load; and it was at the same time agreed that a measure for the load and a charge for carriage should afterwards be appointed.—P. C. R.

On the 23d April 1623, an act of Privy Council was passed in favour of Samuel Johnston, laird of Elphinstone, in consideration of his having super-expended 20,000 merks on his coal-heughs, ‘to his great hurt and apparent wrack.’ It was stated that he had entertained forty families of men, wives, and children at the work, whose weekly charges exceeded two hundred merks. His coal would be lost, and these work-people thrown on the world, if some remedy were not provided, as he could no longer strive with the adverse circumstances in which he was placed. On the other hand, if the work could be held forward, and got into proper order, it might be ‘a gangand coal’ for a hundred years to come.

The Council, in consideration of the losses sustained by the laird, and to save so many poor people from being thrown out of employment, granted him what he asked as a remedy—namely, a licence to export coal for seven years.

It follows from the laird’s statement that the average weekly gains of a collier’s family reached five merks, or about 5s. 6d. sterling.

May 12.

A small private war between the Lairds of Drumlanrig and Cashogle came to a bearing this day at the Moss of Knockonie. This moss belonged to David Douglas, brother to Drumlanrig; but Cashogle had always been allowed to raise peats from it for his winter fuel. The two lairds having fallen into a coldness, Cashogle would not ask this any longer as a favour, but determined to take it as a right. Twice his servants were interrupted in their operations; so he himself came one day to the moss, with his son Robert and thirty-six men or thereby, armed with swords, hagbuts, lances, corn-forks, and staves. Hereupon, the Laird of Mousewald, a brother of the proprietor of the moss (who was absent), sent a friend to remonstrate, and to urge upon Cashogle the propriety of his asking the peats ‘out of love,’ instead of taking them in contempt. The Cashogle party returned only contemptuous answers, ‘declaring they sould cast their peats there, wha wald, wha wald not.’ Some further remonstrances being ineffectual, Drumlanrig himself, accompanied with friends and servants, came upon the scene, shewing that he had the royal authority to command Cashogle to desist. But even this reference failed to induce submission. At length, the Laird of Mousewald, losing temper, exclaimed: ‘Ye are ower pert to disobey the king’s majesty’s charge—quickly pack you and begone.’

1621.

‘Immediately, ane of Cashogle’s servants, with ane great kent [staff], strak Captain Johnston behind his back, twa great straiks upon the head, whilk made him fall dead to the grund with great loss of blood. Then Robert Douglas [son of Cashogle] presentit ane bended hagbut within three ells to the Laird of Drumlanrig’s breast, whilk at the pleasure of God misgave. Immediately thereafter, Robert of new morsit the hagbut, and presented her again to him, whilk shot and missed him at the pleasure of God. Robert Dalyell, natural son to the Laird of Dalyell, was struck through the body with ane lance, who cried that he was slain; and some twa or three men was strucken through their clothes with lances, sae that the haill company thought that they had been killed, and then thought it was time for them to begin to defend themselves; whereupon Robert Douglas and three or four of his folk being hurt, was put to flight, and in flying, the said Robert fell, where the Laird of Drumlanrig chancit to be nearest him; wha, notwithstanding the former offer Robert made to him with the hagbut, not only spared to strike him with his awn hands, but likewise discouraged all the rest under pain of their lives to steir him.’ One of the Cashogle party was slain.

Such an occurrence as this in the south of Scotland, and amongst men of rank and property, shews strikingly that the wild blood of the country was yet by no means quieted. There was a mutual prosecution between the parties; but they contrived to make up the quarrel between themselves out of court, and, private satisfaction being, as usual, deemed enough, the law interfered no further.398

Aug. 2.

1621.

Amongst other symptoms of advancing civilisation proper to this period, was an effort towards the correction of unauthorised medical practice. ‘Persons without knowledge of the science of medicine’ were everywhere practising, ‘to the great and evident hazard of the lives and healths of many of our subjects;’ so declared the king. Drugs were also sold by ignorant persons. Another document refers to the judicatories of the kingdom for an account of ‘the frequent murders committed by quacks, women, gardeners, and others.’ The king, desiring to put a check on these evils, ordered the parliament to frame an act for the erection of a College of Physicians in Edinburgh, to be composed of seven doctors and professors of medicine, who should be incorporated, and without whose warrant no one should practise medicine in or near the city; three of their number to have the duty of superintending the sale of drugs. From various causes, this good design did not take practical effect till a later age.—An. Scot.

May.

‘About this time there was a great earthquake in the town of Montrose and thereabouts, to the great terror of the inhabitants, so that many fled out of the town. Some was slain with the thunder there.’—Cal.

June.

Some foreign vessels trading for coal and salt having been shipwrecked, during the severe storms of the past winter, on the ‘blind craigs’ (that is, concealed rocks) in the Firth of Forth, it was proposed, by the enterprising coal and salt proprietor, Sir George Bruce, that he should be allowed to erect beacons at those dangerous spots, and reimburse himself by a small tax on the foreign vessels frequenting the Firth during the ensuing year. Hearing of this proposal, the other coal-proprietors in Fife and the Lothians felt that they were much concerned, seeing that ‘no stranger-ships come that way but either for coal or salt,’ and they considered that ‘the payment of this duty wald carry with it a very great reproach and scandal to the country, as if such a small piece of work in the most eminent river in the kingdom could not be gotten done without the contribution and help of strangers.’ For these reasons, they themselves undertook to set up the required beacons.—M. S. P.

1621.

This movement may be regarded as another mark of the enlightened attention now beginning to be paid to things in which the material interests of the people were concerned. How far the proposal of Sir George Bruce was carried out we do not learn; but the probability is that he did not allow his plan to fall asleep. It bears out our view of the spirit beginning to manifest itself in Scotland, that the royal burghs, a few years later (September 1631), contemplated having lights erected on the Isle of May in the mouth of the Firth of Forth, and on ‘the Skairheids’ (P. C. R.), and soon after one was actually put upon the May, being the first known to have been formed in connection with the Scottish coasts, and for generations a solitary example on those of the island generally. A Fife laird, Alexander Cunningham of Barns—a relative, it would appear, of the wife of the poet Drummond—had the merit of establishing this useful protection for shipping. Obtaining the proper authority from Charles I., he, in 1635, erected on the isle ‘a tower forty feet high, vaulted to the top, and covered with flag-stones, whereon all the year over,’ says Sir Robert Sibbald, writing in the reign of Charles II., ‘there burns in the night-time a fire of coals for a light; for which the masters of ships are obliged to pay for each ton two shillings [twopence sterling]. This sheweth light,’ he adds, ‘to all the ships coming out of the Firths of Forth and Tay, and to all places between St Abb’s Head and Redcastle near Montrose.’

Through a natural antagonism, we may suppose, between the powers of darkness and the interest here concerned, the architect of the May light-tower was drowned on his return from the isle in a storm believed to have been raised by witches, who were in consequence burnt.399 The fire was duly kept burning by the successors of Cunningham till the erection of a regular light-house on modern principles by the Commissioners of Northern Lights. It required three hundred and eighty tons of Wemyss coal annually, that kind being selected on account of the clearness of its flame. In 1790, the tack or lease of this privileged light, with its tax of three-halfpence a ton on Scottish, and threepence on foreign shipping, rose from £280 to £960, and in 1800 it was let at £1500, ‘a striking proof,’ as Mr Adamson justly remarks, ‘of the increase of the trade of this country’ during the period.

Aug. 4.

This was a day of great concern and sorrow to the earnest Presbyterians of Scotland, as on it the parliament sitting at Edinburgh ratified the Five Articles introducing Episcopalian fashions into the church. At the moment when the commissioner, the Marquis of Hamilton, rose to apply the sceptre to the bills, thus giving them symbolically the royal assent, a flash of lightning burst into the house, followed by a second and a third, and these by loud thunder. A heavy darkness ensued. The discharge of rain was so great, that the ceremonial return to Holyroodhouse could not be effected, and all rushed home in confusion. The people, affected by these signs and wonders, called the day Black Saturday.

1621.

The weather had been bad during the whole summer, and the harvest was likely to be late and meagre. A Presbyterian historian, after relating what happened at the ratification of the Five Articles, adds: ‘That very day made the greatest alteration of prices of victual within eight days, that ever was heard of in so short a space in Scotland, except the ill-windy Bartle-day in anno 159-.’—Row. It appears that wheat rose to £12 per boll, and the price might have been higher but for the coming in of foreign grain. The autumn was distinguished by heavy rains, carrying away the crops of extensive haughs or meadows. And of such as were preserved, scarcely any was ‘won’—that is, secured—before Hallowmass. The wetness of the season was also unfavourable to the winning of peat-fuel. ‘Never was greater fear of famine, nor scarcity of seed to sow the ground. Every person was careful to ease himself of such persons as he might spare, and to live as retiredly as possibly he might. Pitiful was the lamentation not only of vaiging beggars, but also of honest persons.’—Cal.

Aug. 28.

‘Because there was a new brood and generation of the Clan Gregor risen up, who are begun to go in troops and companies about the country, armed with offensive weapons, there was a proclamation published that none who carry the name of Macgregor shall wear any armour, but ane pointless knife to eat their meat with, under the pain of death.’—Bal.

The Chronicle of Perth notes the holding of a justice court there, May 10, 1624, by the chancellor Sir George Hay, ‘where many compeirit and were clengit by assize; only three hangit—Macgregors!’ A few months later, the same authority tells us of ‘Robert Abroch, ane Macgregor, ane great limmer,400 wha had been ance or twice forgiven and remitted by his majesty, for his oppression, upon hope of amendment, yet continued still in his knaveries; after there was mickle searching made for him in the Highlands, and all his friends chargit to apprehend [him], [he] came to Perth this day, being Tuesday, ane preaching-day, after sermon, and fell down on his knees, and ane tow about his neck, and offerit his sword by the point to the Chancellor of Scotland, wha refusit to accept of it, and commanded the bailies to ward him; like as they instantly warded him, and put baith his feet on the gaud,401 where he remainit.’—Chron. Perth.

1621.

‘This year, Sir William Alexander of Menstrie undertook a plantation in a part of America, which was then called New Scotland [Nova Scotia], where he intended to send a colony. Sir Robert Gordon, Tutor of Sutherland, joined himself in this enterprise, and did indent and contract with Sir William to send thither some men out of Sutherland, weel provided with corns, cattle, weapons, and other provision fit and sufficient for that journey, who should have a good portion of that country allotted them to inhabit. The Earl Marischal of Scotland, the Earl of Melrose, the Earl of Nithsdale, the Viscount of Dupplin, Sir Robert Gordon of Lochinvar, Sir Alexander Gordon of Cluny, James Gordon of Lesmoir, with divers other nobles and gentlemen, were likewise partners in this plantation. And for further advancement of this plantation, his majesty concluded to make heritable knights-baronets in Old Scotland; which honour should be bestowed upon the choicest undertakers of that enterprise, and upon such as were of best quality for vertue, birth, and means among the gentry.’—G. H. S.

Oct. 12.

This day, Friday, commenced a remarkable flood in the Tay, which lasted for three or four days, and caused extensive destruction. The beautiful bridge, newly completed across the river at Perth, was swept away, excepting one arch only. In the middle of the second night, the water had risen so high, that the people living in low houses near the Castle Gavel Port in Perth, were obliged to remove to higher houses. The town was so environed with water, that no one could enter or leave it for several days. Children were let down from upper windows into boats, in order to be carried to places presumably safer. Household stuff and provisions were destroyed. The rain was accompanied by a violent wind from the east, which would somewhat help to maintain the waters of the river at a high elevation. The water flowed in the High Street and the Speygate ‘like mill-sluices;’ and one Charles Rollock became a distinguished public benefactor by going about in a boat through those streets, and rescuing people who were in danger of drowning—a service for which he afterwards received a double angel in recompense.

1621.

The people were thrown into a state of extreme consternation, looking for nothing but the entire destruction of their fair city. ‘Whereupon Mr John Malcolm, minister, powerfully endued with God’s spirit, caused ring the preaching-bell on Sunday at seven hours in the morning, and the haill inhabitants came to the kirk. And there he exhorted them to repent of their sins, which had provoked the said judgment of God to come upon the city; assuring them that if they were truly penitent therefor, and would avow to God to amend their lives in time coming, God would avert his judgment, and give them deliverance. Whose powerful exhortations moved the people to cry to God with tears, clamours, and cries, and to hold up their hands to God, [promising that they would] amend their lives, and every one of them to abstain from their domestic sins. The like humiliation of men and women has not been seen within Perth before. Fasting, preaching, and praying continued all that week.... The waters began somewhat to decrease after noon on Sunday; but after daylight passed, there arose a greater tempest of wind and rain than at any time before, which so affrighted the people that night, that they looked for nothing but [that] the waters should have arisen to greater height [than] they were before. Notwithstanding thereof, miraculously, through the mercy of God, by [past] all men’s expectation, the waters greatly in the meantime decreased, which in the morning moved the people in the kirk and all other places to give hearty thanks to God for his mercy toward them.’402

One of the remarks current among the more serious class of people on this occasion, was that the inundation was sent as a judgment on Perth, on account of the five Episcopalian articles passed there by the General Assembly three years before, though how this vengeance should have fallen on the innocent people living in the place of that assembly, and not upon the churchmen who passed the articles, or rather the majority of them as apart from the minority, it is not easy to reconcile to a sense of either Divine wisdom or Divine justice. It chances that Perth is built on the meadow or haugh close to a river—namely, what is properly its flood-course; a kind of situation where no human habitations should ever be built. It is of course more or less inundated at every considerable flood, and thus exposed to no small inconvenience, as well as damage. These evils may be considered as the natural punishment inflicted on the people for the solecism against nature which they have committed. It may be safely presumed that, while their town stands there, it will be liable to such disasters as that here described, whether general assemblies reform upwards or downwards within its walls, and in whatever spirit the inhabitants may regard their consequent sufferings. They are, however, not alone in this respect, as, unfortunately, the low banks of rivers are the seats of many towns and parts of towns in all parts of the world.

1621.

It is remarkable that, though there had been a bridge across the Tay at Perth so early as the beginning of the thirteenth century, the structure now destroyed was not replaced till the erection of the present beautiful fabric in 1771, the intercourse during the intermediate hundred and fifty years being maintained by ferry-boats.

Nov.?

The Record of Privy Council at this time gives an example of the conduct of a north-country gentleman under ban of the law. George Meldrum of Haltoun had been put to the horn and denounced rebel for some failure of duty towards James Crichton of Frendraught and other persons; and it became necessary for the Marquis of Huntly, as sheriff of Aberdeen, to send a force for the capture of his person. James Gordon of Knockespock and George Gordon of Gowie went with a band for this purpose.

At their approach, Meldrum was out in the fields; but he no sooner saw them, than, surmising their design, he fled to his house, closed the gates, and prepared to stand a siege. They, anxious to vindicate the royal authority, beleaguered the house, resolved not to leave it till they should have reduced the occupant to his majesty’s obedience. They had lain about the place forty-eight hours, when John Innes of Crombie, hearing of what was going on, came to them in the utmost possible haste, mounted on his best horse, declaring to them his desire to deal with George for the purpose of inducing him to submit. ‘He entreated the deputies that, with their allowance, he might go and confer with the said George thereanent; whereunto they very gladly yielded, seeing they sought nought but obedience.... The Laird of Crombie in the meantime seemed very busy in going and coming to and frae the said George, feeding the deputies with false conceits and hopes, and sometimes with vain promises that he himself wald be cautioner for the said George, for the satisfaction of all his creditors ... and so, under this false pretext, having abused the ... deputies their sincere and upright meaning making them to believe all that he spak, and sae to be so much the more careless of looking to the house, he then brought the said George out of the house, set him upon his best horse, and put him away, to the great contempt and mocking of justice.’ For this conduct, the Laird of Crombie was denounced as a rebel.

1622. Mar. 20.

Margaret Wallace, the wife of John Dinning, a clothier in Glasgow, was tried before the Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh, for sundry acts of witchcraft, and as a common practiser of that nefarious art. She was reported to have been a friend and confederate of one Christian Graham, a notorious witch of the same city, who was tried, condemned, and burnt in the preceding year. There is something singular in Mrs Dinning’s case, for some of the acts of criminality urged against her were cures for which no other than a humane motive was or could be imputed. The case is also curious on account of the remarkable resemblance of some of the means or modes of cure to the proceedings of the modern mesmeric hospital.

It was alleged of Margaret, that she had been a witch for eight or nine years. It was evident that she looked up to Christian Graham as her preceptress and superior. About four years before the time of her trial, being in the house of one Vallance, in Glasgow, she had taken a sudden fit of sickness, and sent for Graham, who came immediately to her relief. Taking Margaret tenderly in her arms, and kissing her, Graham said: ‘Nothing shall ail my dear bird;’ then led her down stairs, and conducted her to her own house, where she completely recovered. The two women coming back to Vallance’s house, found a little child of his, named Margaret, at the bottom of the stair, and it was alleged that they threw the sickness upon her. The child was found by her mother crying dismally; and all that night she lay in horrible pain, with pitiful screeches, shouts, and cries, apparently deprived of the power of her body. Margaret Wallace, coming next day to see the child, ‘declarit it was the sudden trance or disease that she had ta’en the day before, and willed the bairn’s mother to send for Christian Graham to cure her and relieve her thereof.’ The mother ‘having absolutely refused sae to do, saying she wald commit her bairn to God, and not mell with the devil or ony of his instruments, Margaret Wallace maist blasphemously answered again, that “Christian Graham could do as mickle in curing of that disease, as gif God himself wald come out of heaven and cure her—and, albeit the deid-strake were laid on, she could tak it aff again—and without her help there could be nae remeed to the bairn!” Thereafter, without the mother’s knowledge, Christian Graham was brought in by Margaret Wallace to the bairn; at whase coming, Margaret lifted up the bairn’s head, and Christian took her by the shackle-bane [wrist], and brought the bairn forth of her bed where she was lying in great pain before; and thereafter, setting her down upon ane stool, with some crosses and signs made upon her, and by uttering of divers words, restored her to her health.’

1622.

It is quite evident here that Margaret was honourably candid, as against herself, in the view she took of the cause of the child’s ailment, and her subsequent conduct in trying to restore the child’s health, was creditable to her feelings. In another point of her dittay, however, feelings of a different kind came out.

It was alleged that Margaret had conceived a deadly hatred against Cuthbert Greig, a cooper, because of certain opprobrious speeches he had uttered against Christian Graham. ‘She avowed that she should make Cuthbert, within few days thereafter, not of ability to work or win himself ane cake of bread.’ According to this devilish threat, Cuthbert was soon after ‘visit and troublit with ane strange, unnatural, and unknawn disease,’ attended by continual sweating for fifteen days together, till in the end he was reduced to the utmost degree of weakness. It appeared that the man’s friends endeavoured to induce Margaret to interfere for his recovery; but she long persisted in refusing. At length, coming to his house, ‘she, to manifest her skill for his help, took him by the shackle-bane with the ane hand, and laid her other hand upon his breast, and, without ony word-speaking, save only by moving of her lips, passed frae him at that instant.’ Returning next morning, ‘she took him by the arm and bade him rise, wha at that time and fifteen days before, was not able to lift his legs without help.’ ‘She, having urged him to rise, and taking him by the hand, brought him out of his bed, and led him butt the house’ [into the outer apartment], where he ‘walkit up and down the floor, without help or support of ony.’ From that time, it is stated, he quickly recovered from his illness. Here, too, it must be owned, Margaret came ultimately to act a humane part.

Another child having an uncouth sickness, Wallace associated with Graham in a practice for her cure. They went under cloud of night ‘to the yard of James Finlay, burgess of Glasgow, where they remained the space of ane hour together practising sorcery and witchcraft, for curing of the bairn by unlawful means,’ and ‘that same night the sickness was ta’en aff the bairn and she convalesced thereof.’ For this, the two practitioners got a goose and a pint of wine. On another occasion, Wallace was alleged to have inflicted deadly sickness on a child, and allowed her to die.

Margaret had good counsel at her trial, and a stout defence was made; but all in vain. She was sentenced to be worried at a stake and burnt on the Castle Hill.—Pit.

May 22.

1622.

A Dunkirk ship, belonging to the king of Spain, came up to Leith pursued by two Dutch waughters, but both were quickly driven out of the Firth of Forth by a west wind. A few days thereafter, the same vessels came back to Leith, ‘where they had ane great fecht, frae twelve at night till four in the morning, and many men slain.’403 The magistrates of Edinburgh interfered to prevent further hostilities, and the three vessels lay there inactive for half a year, the Dunkirker not being able to get away for fear of the superior metal of her enemies. At length, the king ordered that the Dunkirker should be allowed to go out, without being followed by the waughters for a couple of tides. On the 4th of May 1623, this vessel left the harbour accordingly, but it ran upon the Mussel-scap, ‘within two pair of butt-lengths to the Bulwark,’ and thus in due time became liable to the attack of the waughters. While these were playing their guns upon her, the authorities in the city, knowing well the king’s favour for Spain, whose Infanta his son was at this time courting, mustered forces and cannon, and came hastily to the rescue. Finding that the Dutch had boarded her, and put up the Prince of Orange’s colours, they sent men on board to put up the flag of the king of Great Britain. The people shewed themselves ill affected to the object. ‘Some few went down, with their swords, and their cloaks about them. The president, chiding the provost and bailies, said: “I always said to his majesty that Edinburgh was but a nest of traitors. I shall write to his majesty of this your rebellion.” It was answered: ... “Edinburgh is not bound to serve in such a service without their burgh roods.”’ An effort was made to secure the vessel within the harbour—‘it was sport to see the lords and their gentlemen hailing St Ambrose with a rope into the harbourie. But they laboured in vain, for the water began to fall.’ The end of the business was, that, one night, the Dutch, after respectfully removing the guard and flag, set the vessel on fire, and having destroyed it, set sail for their own seas.404

May 29.

‘The Landgrave of Hesse’s eldest son, of the second marriage, came to Edinburgh. His lodging and entertainment was not looked to with that respect that became.’405—Cal.

June 3.

‘... there was a fiery dragon, both great and long, appeared to come from the south to the north, spouting fire from her, half an hour after the going to of the sun.’—Cal.

1622.

This was a wretched summer. A fast was ordered at Aberdeen, July 21st, on account of ‘the felt wrath of God by this present plague of dearth and famine, and the continuance thereof threatened by thir tempestuous storms and inundations of weets likely to rot the fruits on the ground.’—A. K. S. R.

The usual consequence is recorded: ‘About the harvest, and after, there was such ane universal sickness in all the country as the like has not been heard of—but specially in this burgh, that no family in all the city was free of this visitation. There was also great mortality among the poor.’—Chron. Perth.

July.

An act of Privy Council of this date aims at a restriction of the importation of wine into the Western Islands—‘with the insatiable desire whereof the said islanders are so far possest, that when there arrives ony ship or other vessel there with wines, they spend both days and nights in their excess of drinking, sae lang as there is any of the wine left; sae that, being overcome with drink, there falls out mony inconvenients amangs them, to the break of his majesty’s peace.’406

July 30.

The Privy Council had the subject of that ‘infective weed callit tobacco’ under their attention. The king had formerly, upon good reasons of policy, forbidden its importation into the country; but this decree had been sadly evaded, insomuch that ‘the country was ever universally filled with tobacco, and public and common merchandise made of the same.’ Then his majesty had tried the restraining effect of a duty (20s. Scots, or 1s. 8d. English per pound); but the tobacco-merchants had learned the trick of smuggling, and it was not likely they would let it lie unfruitful when they could thereby save the payment of a tax. It had now, accordingly, become necessary to impose a new restraint; and the importation was again prohibited, under pain of the goods being confiscated to his majesty’s use.—P. C. R.

1622.

An act of the Privy Council in the subsequent November explained that the king did not mean by this restraint ‘to deprive his loving subjects of the orderly sale and moderate use of tobacco,’ but only to prevent the abuse or excessive use of the herb. It was no part of his design to interfere with the patent which had been granted [November 7, 1616] to the late Captain William Murray, giving him the sole privilege of importing tobacco for the space of twenty-one years. He therefore now ordered proclamations to be issued, to the effect that the prohibition only held good against such as did not possess a licence under favour of Murray’s patent.—P. C. R. In the ensuing March, it was arranged that importers of tobacco should pay Murray’s representatives a duty of twenty shillings Scots per pound.

In 1624, the widow and daughter of Captain Murray resigned their relative’s patent into the hands of commissioners, for his majesty’s use, on their becoming bound to pay twenty thousand pounds Scots (£1666, 13s. 4d.) at three half-years terms.407

The prejudice of King James against tobacco was a strong feeling, partaking much of the character of antipathy. He published anonymously, and afterwards acknowledged the quaint pamphlet, A Counterblast to Tobacco, in which he argues against the use of the herb as a physical as well as moral corruption. Baker’s Chronicle states that the expedition of Sir Francis Drake, on its return in 1585[6], passed by Virginia, ‘a colony which Sir Walter Raleigh had there planted;’ ‘from whence Drake brings home with him Ralph Lane, who was the first that brought tobacco into England, which the Indians take against crudities of the stomach.’ This does not comport with the ordinary notion entertained in England, which uniformly represents Raleigh as the first introducer of the Nicotian herb. Lane became a despised man on account of his pusillanimity in giving up the colony; and there seems all reason to believe that to him King James alludes in the following passage from the Counterblast: ‘It is not so long,’ says he, ‘since the first entry of this abuse amongst us here, as this present age cannot well remember both the first author and the form of the first introduction of it amongst us. It was neither brought in by king, great conqueror, nor learned doctor of physic. With the report of a great discovery for a conquest, some two or three savage men were brought in, together with a savage custom. But the pity is, the poor barbarous men died, but that vile barbarous custom is yet alive, yea, in fresh vigour; so as it seems a miracle to me how a custom, springing from so vile a ground, and brought in by a father so generally hated, should be welcomed upon so slender a warrant.’