M =^c= Al n ^ - m m — rc 3 = =^= o M - -t> 3 ^ CD ^._ :n ^ 9 = ^= -t^ n = ^BB> t— ■■ ^ 6 1 m^m m^' '- , y^S^W^'"^'"^^"^ Nii/y^-^g'^ University of California Southern Regional Library Facility y<^.. -< S Shelf &- UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES :JUmiy, JS33 LIVES OF SCOTTISH WOKTIIIES. BY PATRICK FRASER TYTLER, ESQ., F.R. S. AND F.S.A. VOL. IIL jpijj *>^ f LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. MDCCCXXXIII. LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES, Stamford Street. . . . * t . • ' ' > ' 7irc> r CONTENTS. V3 JAMES I. (Continued from Vol. 11.) Good Effects of the King's Return to his Dominions, page 2. — In- ternal Administration of his Kingdom, 3. — Birtli of the Princess Margaret; Embassy from Charles VII. of France, 3. — Institution of the ' Session,' 5. — Acts of the Parliament assembled at Perth, 12th March, 1425, C— State of the Highlands, and James's Pro- gress to the North, 8. — Rebellion of Alexander of the Isles : he is compelled to submit, 9. — The King's Sternness, 13. — Consti- tution of the Scottish Parliament ; important Change iu it, 14. — Marriage with France, 16. —James's Attention to the Condi- tion of the Poorer Tenantry and Labourers, 1". — Parliament at Perth, April, 1429; its Sumptuary Laws, 19. — State of the Navy, 19. — Rebellion of Donald Balloch, 20. — Feuds in Strathnaver, 21. — Royal Progress to the North, 22. — Pestilence revisits Scot- land, 23. — Persecution of the Wickliffites, and burning of Paul Crawar, 24. — James's Efforts to strengthen the Royal Authority. Power of the Earl of March, 2S. — Stripped of his Lands, he flies to England, .'O. — Jealousy and Alarm of the Nobles, ,'i2. — Hostilities with England on the Borders ; Skirmish at Piperden,34. — Blarriage of the Princess Margaret of Scotland to the Dauphin, 35. — War with England ; the King besieges Roxburgh, but sud- denly retires, 35. — Conspiracy against James I. ; its Secret His- tory investigated, 36. — Graham's Flight to the Highlands, 41. — His League withAthole and Stewart, 4.3. — A Spae-wife attempts to warn James of his Danger, 43. — The King arrives at Perth, 44. — His Murder, 45. —The Murderers escape, 49. — They are appre- hended and executed, 50. — James's great T.ilents, 51. — His Ge- nius as a Poet, 52. — The King's Quhair ; Criticism of this Poem, 52. — Its Opening, 53. — Description of \Vindsor, .^)r). — The Gar- b '2 f^,a v^ *-ir _i. tJ? -ic- IV CO>'TENTS. den, 56." — Appearance of his Mistress, 59. — Introduction of the . Vision, 62. — Its Conclusion, 67. — Remarks upon it, 68. — Humorous Poetry of James I., 69. — ' Christ's Kirk on the Green,' 70. — 'Peebles at the Play,' 72. — James's varied AccomplisU- ments, 7i. HOBERT HENRYSOhX. Scantinessof our Biographical Notices of Henryson, 76. — Passage from Urry, 77. — Character of his Poetry, 7S. — Fine Picture of Saturn, 78. — Troilus and Cressida, 7&. — Fine description of a AVinter Night, SI. —Analysis of the Poem, 82. — ' Praise of Age,' 83. — 'Town and Country Mouse,' 85. — Criticism on the Poem and Extracts, 87. — Conclusion, 88. WILLIAM DUNBAR. Little known of Dunbar, 89. — Error of Pinkerton, 89. — Educated . for the Church, 90. — Received a small Annual Pension, 90. — His Address to the Lords of the King's Checquer, 91. — He at- taches himself to the Court of James IV'., 92. — Character of this Monarch, 93. — Dunbar's Description of the Court, 94. — Verified by the curious Manuscript Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer, 96. — Poverty of Dunbar, and Neglect nith which he is treated, 99. — Poem of the ' Thistle and the Rose,' 100. — Its beautiful Commencement, 101. — Criticis^m of the Poem, and Extracts, 102. ' — Fine Picture of the Lion, 104. — Coronation of the Rose as Queen of Flowers, 105. — Digression on the Marriage of James IV., 107. — Particulars of this Event, from the Treasurer's Ac- counts, 108. — Dunbar's humorous Address to Jamie Doig, 109. — Complaint of the Grey Horse, Auld Dunbar, 111. — Reply of James IV., 112.^ Flytings of Dunbar and Kennedy, 112. — Dance in the Queen's Chamber, 114. — Reform in Edinburgh ; Address to its Merchants, 115. — Dunbar's Allegorical Taste ; his Dream, 116. — Dunbar's Satirical Powers; his ' Twa Married Women and the Widow,' 118.— His ' Friars of Berwick,' 120. — Criticism of this Poem, and Extracts, 121.— ' The Golden Targe,' 128. — Its line Opening, 129. — Address to Chaucer and Gower, 131. — Dunbar's Religious Poetry, 132. — Conclusion of the Life, 133. CONTENTS. GAVIN DOUGLAS^ Douglas's noble Birth ; born about '1474, 137. — Anecdote of his Father, the Earl of Angus, 138. — Death of his Brethren at Flod- den, 140. — Douglas made Rector of Hawick, 140. — His Poem of ' King Hart,' 141. — His own Analysis of the Story, 14L'. — Its spirited Opening, 143. — Criticism on its Merits and Defects, 144. — ' Castle of Dame Plesaiice,' 14j. — Progress of the Poem, 146. — Marriage of King Hart, and Hapjiy Life, 147. — Arrival of Age, and King Hart's Distress, 14S. — His Queen and her Sub- jects desert him, 149. — His Death and Testament, 149. — Dou- glas's 'Palace of Honour,' 151. — Indiscriminate Panegyric of Sage, 151. — True Character of the Poem, 152. — Extracts, 153. Progress of the Story, ISa. — Court of Minerva, 157. — Court of Venus, 15S. — Fine Picture of Mars, l-IS. — The Castalian Spring, 159. — Apparition of the Muses, IGl. — Palace of Honour, 162. — Description of King Honour, 165. — Conclusion of the Poem, 168, — Douglas's Translation of Virgil, 169. — Extracts, 170. — Great Beauty of his Prologues to each Boolv, 172. — Prologue to the 7th Book, 173. — Douglas's Language, 176. — His Adieu to las Poeti- cal Studies, 177. — His future Life troubled and eventful, 179. — Nominated Archbishop of St. Andrew's, 180. — Hepburn and Forman compete with him for the Primacy, 180. — Douglas retires from the Contest, ISO. — He is elected to till the See of Dnnkeld, 181. — Difficulty in obtaining possession of liiis Dignity, 132 Factions amongst the Nobles and the Clergy, 183. — Bishop Douglas takes refuge at the Court of Henry Vlll., 185. — He is seized with the Plague ; Dies, 186. — His Character, 187. SIR DAVID LINDSAY. Lindsay's Birth in the Reign of James IV., 191. a- Antiquity and re- spectability of his Family, 191. — His early introduction at Court, 192, — Singular .\pparition at Linlithgow, 193. — Lindsay's Picture of the Infancy of James V., 194. — Troubled state of the Country, 196. — Letter of Lord Dacre, 197. — English Incursions, 198. — James's promising Boyliood, 199. — Revolution which deprives Lindsay of his Office, 200. — Servitude under which the younj; King is kept; he escapes, 201.-- Lindsay writes his ' Dream;' its defects and beauties, 202. — A Winter Landskip, 203. — Ana- l lysis of the Poem, 204. — Appearance of Johne Commonweill ; his Description of the state of Scotland, _20j. — Nervous Lines VI CONTENTS. on the same Subject by Stewart, 207. — Lindsay's Poem of the ' Complaint,' 210. — His Picture of the Venality of the Courtiers, 211-. — mismanagement of the young King's Education, 213. — James V. assumes the Supreme Power, 214. — His Expedition against the Border Thieves, 215. — Execution of Johnnie Arm- strong, 216. — Remarks on this Event, 217. — Traditions which remain in the Country regarding this Expedition, 218. — Lindsay promoted to the office of Lord Lion, 219. — Its Nature and Anti- quity, 220. — He writes the ' Complaint of the King's Papingo,' 221. — Its graceful Introduction, 222. — Progress of the Poem, 224. — Disaster of the Papingo, 225. — Her dying Counsel to the King, 226. — To her Brethren, the Courtiers, 227. — Character of James IV., 228. — The Papingo's Adieu to Stirling, 229. — Her Expostulation with her Executors, 230. — Attack upon the Cor- ruptions of the Church, 231. — Death of the Papingo, 232.— Her last Legacy, and conduct of her Executors, 233. — Lindsay's Alission to Brussels in 1531, 234. — His Marriage, 235. — His • Satire of the Three Estates,' 235. — Early Scottish Stage, 236. — Remarks on this Primitive Drama, 237. — The same Subject continued, 238. — Prologue and First Part, 239. — Second Part : Avarice of the Clergy, 240. — Dialogue between the Spiritual Estate and Correction, 241. — Consistory Courts ; their Abuses, 242. — John Commnnweill dressed in a New Suit, 243. — Conclu- sion of the Piece, 244. — JIanner of its Performance, 245. — James V. disposed at first to favour the Reformation of the Church, 246. — Lindsay's Mission to the Court of France in 1536, 247- — James pays a Visit to that Country : his splendid reception at the Palace of Vendosme, 248. — His meeting with Francis I : falls in love with Princess Magdalen, 249. — Marries her, 250. — Conveys her to Scotland, 251. — Her sudden Death, 252. — Lind- say writes his ' Deploration for the Death of Queen Magdalen,' 253. — Criticism on this Poem, 254. — Lindsay's deep Enmity to the Romanist Religion, 255. — Remarks on the Scottish Refor- mation, 256. — James V. marries Mary of Guise, 257. — Lindsay's splendid Pageants, 257. — Justing between Watson and Barbour, 258. — Answer to the Kind's ' Flyling,' 259. — Digression on tlie Poetical Talents of James V., 260. — Anecdotes of James V., :.'61. — Lindsay's Satire against Side-Tails, 2G3. — And ' Mussal'd Faces,' 264. — His Tragedy of ' The Cardinal,' 263. — Remarks on the Murder of Beaton, 266. — History of Squire Meldrum, 267. — Value of this Poem as a Picture of Manners ; Quotations, 268. — Authenticity of the Story; Sack of Carrickfergus, 2G9. — Ad- venture with the Irish Lady, 270.— Meldrum arrives in Brittany; CONTENTS, Vll his challenge of Talbart, 271.— Kindness of Aubigny, 2"2. — Arrangement of the Lists, 273. — The Combat, 274. — Meldrum's Courtesy and Generosity, 275. — His Voyage home, and arrival in Scotland, 276. — Kind reception by the Lady of Strathern, 277. — Waylaid by Stirling of Keir, 278. — He is desperately wounded, 279. — His Recovery, and mode of after Life, 280. — Faithfulness to his Jlistress of Strathern, 281.— His last Sickness and Testa- ment, 282. — Further Remarks on this singular Composition, 284. — Lindsay bears no active part in the Reformation of Religion in Scotland, 286. — He composes his ' Monarchy,' 287. — Fine In- troduction to this Poem, 288. —Moral Nature of the Work; Striking Picture of E.xperience, 289. — Idolatry of the Church of Rome, 290. — Lindsay's judicious Distinction upon this Subject, 291. — Temporal Power of the Pope ; Evil Effects of Pilgrimages, 292. — Sweet Conclusion of tbe Poem, 293. — It is Lindsay's last Work. His Death. Family Estate of the Mount. Traditions. CHAPTER OF ANTIQUARIAN ILLUSTRATIONS. Henry the Minstrel. Conjecture regarding the value to be attached to the Poem of Wal- lace by this Ancient Author, 299. — Singular mixture of Truth and Error in his Details, 300. — Proofs of this; History of the Siege of Berwick in 1296. — Carte's Account, 301. — Buchanan's Account, 302. — Narrative of Henry the Minstrel, 303. — Proofs of his Accuracy from Hemingford, 303. — From Fordiin, 304. -— From other Authors, 305. — Minute Particulars in Henry the Minstrel's Account corroborated, 30G. — Inference from the whole that he must have had access to some accurate Chronicle of the Times, 307. — Another Example and Proof of this ; Taking of Dunbar, 308.— A Third Example; Corroboration by the Rotuli Scotise, 309. — Additional Confirmations of his occasional Accu- racy in minute Particulars, 310. — Conjectures as to the original Materials possessed by this Writer, 312. — His reference to the Latin Book of Wallace's Life, 313. — Major's Account of Blind Harry, 313. — Conclusion of Remarks, 314. Bruce and St. Fill.in. St. Fillan ; his History, 314. — His luminous Arm; carried by Bruce to Bannockburn, 315. — Relic of St. Fillan, called the Quigrich, 316.— Charter to Malise Doire, 317. — Remarks, 318. Battle of Bannockbur.v. Best mode of examining the Field of Bannockburn, 319. — Line of VIU CONTENTS. Edward's Mareli, 319. — Place where he encamped, 319.— Re- marks, 320. Death of Sir James Dougl.\s in Spain. Obscurity which hangs over the Particulars of this Event ; Illus- trated by some Passages in the Chronicle of Alonso XI., 321. — Kemarks on these Extracts, 322. — Account of Barbour corrobo- rated by the Chronicle, 323. — Conclusion, 324. Randolph, Earl of Morat. His minute Directions regarding his Sepulture, 325. — Quotation from an Ancient unpublished Charter. Feudal Governments of Europe. Coincidences in the Feudal Governments of England, France, and Scotland, 326. — Struggle between the King and the Nobles, 327. — In France, 327. — In Scotland, 328. — Influence of the Per- sonal Character of the King, 329. — Miseries of the Feudal Sys- tem, 330. J.VMES IV.'S ToiTRNAME.NTT FOR THE BlACK LADT. MS. Accounts of- the High Treasurer of Scotland, collected by the Bev. Blr. Macgregor Stirling ; James IV. and his Blackamoors, 331. — Tournament for the Black Lady ; Articles of Defiance sent to France, 332.— Items in the Accounts illustrative of the Tournament, 333. — Dunbar's Poem on tiie Blackamoor, 334. J.^MES IV. .\ND THE FlyING AbBOT OF TUNGLAND. James's Passion for Empirics of all Kinds, 335. — Lesly's Account of the Abbot of Tungland's Attempt to fly, 335. — History of John Daniidne; his pretended Skill in Alchemy, 336. — His Familiarity with the King, 337. — Other strange Characters who haunted the Court, 33S. — The King's Passion for Surgery. ArRIV.^L OF THE GiPSIES IN SCOTLA.ND. Curious Letter of James IV. upon this subject, 339. Ancient Scottish Games. Value of the Accounts of the High Treasurer in illustrating Scottish Sports and Pastimes, 340. — James IV. an enthusiastic Lover of Music, 341. — Common Games, 341.^ — Obscure Games, 342. — Tale-tellers, 343. — Singular Mixture of Levity and Austerity in the Character of this Monarch ; St. Duthoc's Relic, 343. — His [ Iron Girdle probably apocryphal, 344. — Conclusion. JAMES THE FIRST. 1424—1437. The return of James the First to his dominions had been signalized, as we have seen", by a me- morable example of retributive justice, from the sternness of which tlie mind revolts with horror. We must be careful indeed to regard his conduct to the house of Albany, not through the more humane feelings of our own age, but in relation to the dark feudal times in which he lived. To forgive, or rather not to revenge an injury was a jirinciple which in such days was invariably regarded as a symptom of pusillanimity. James had a long account to settle with the house of his uncle. The blood of his brother, the broken heart of his father, the usurpation of his here- ditary throne for eighteen years, and the scenes of rapine and cruelty which had been permitted to take place during his captivity in ]']ngland, all called upon him to whet the sword of justice with no ordinary edge ; to make an impression upon a peo])le accustomed to laxity and disorder, which should powerfully afi'ect their minds, and convince them that the reign of misrule was at an end. In assuming the government, his ob- ject was to be feared and respected ; but making * Vol. ii. pp. 314, 315. VOL. III. B 2 JAMES TKE FIRST. everv allowance for such considerations, and taking fully into view the circumstances under which lie returned to his kingdom, it is impossible to deny that in the catastrophe of the family of Al- bany, the King appears to have attended to the gratification of personal revenge, as much as to the satisfaction of offended justice. The effects however of his conduct upon a feu- dal age were such as might easily have been anti- cipated, and within a wonderfully short interval matters appeared to be rapidly approaching that state when as James himself had predicted " the key should keep the castle, and the braken bush the cow." The first cares of the monarch were wiselv directed to the internal administration of the country. From without he had at present nothing to dread. England was at peace, the marriage with Jane Beaufort had secured the inte- rest of the governors of that kingdom, during the minority of Henry the Sixth. France was the ancient ally of Scotland, and the commercial inte- rests of the Netherlands were too essentially pro- moted by their Scottish trade not to be anxious to preserve the most friendly relations. James therefore was permitted to direct his undivided at- tention to his affairs at home, and his great prin- ciple seems to have been to rule the country through his Parliament ; to assemble that great national council as frequently as possible, to enact or to revive wholesome and salutary laws, suited to the emergency in which he found his kingdom, and to insist on their rigid observance. In the same Parliament which beheld the downfal of the house of Albany, we have seen that the administration JAMES THE FIRST. 3 of justice and the defence of the kingdom fomied two principal subjects of consideration; and his attention to the commercial interests of the state was equally active, though not equally enlightened. The acts of the legislature upon this subject are pervaded by that jealousy of exportation, and the narrow policy in restricting the settlement of Scot- tish merchants in foreign parts which mark an unenlightened age. During the detention of the monarch in England, the Flemings as allies of that kingdom, had committed repeated aggressions on the Scottish merchant vessels, and the king on his return had removed the staple of the Scottish commerce to Middleburg in Zealand. Soon after, however, an embassy from the States of Flanders arrived at the Scottish Court, with the object of j)rocuring the restoration of the trade, and James not only received the Envoys with distinction, but consented to their request on the condition of more ample jnivileges being conferred on his subjects who traded to these parts*. About this time the Queen was delivered of a daughter, and with an affectionate recurrence to the virtues of the sainted consort of Malcolm Can- more, the Princess was christened Margaret. The event was received with almost as much satisfac- tion in France as in Scotland, and Charles the Seventh, anxious to procure the assistance of that country in his protracted struggle with the arms of England, immediately opened a negociation for the marriage of the Dauphin with the infant daughter of James. Stewart ol' Derneley, Constable of the Scottish Army in France, and the Arch- * Fordun, vol. ii., p. 484. 13 2 4 JAMES THE FIRST. bishop of Ivheims visited the Scottish Court ; the king returned his answers to their proposals by Leighton, Bisliop of Aberdeen, and Ogih y, Jus- ticiar of Scotland, and it was determined that after five years the parties' should be solemnly betrothed, and the Princess conveyed to the Court of France*. It was another part of the prudent policy of James to cultivate the friendship of the church, to secure the co-operation of the numerous and influential body of the Catholic Clergy in the execution of his schemes for the reduction of the country, under a system of order and good government; and with this view we find him about the same time dis- patching an embassy to the Court of Rome, and directing a Commission to the Bishop of St, An- drews, by which that Prelate was empowered to resume all alienations of ecclesiastical lands which had been granted under the administration of the two Albanies. Tiie deed also conferred upon him the dreaded power of placing the party under the anathema of the Church. The collection of the sum due for the King's ransom was a matter of grave consideration ; and in the first Parliament after his return, a tax of twelve pennies in the pound was directed to be levied upon the whole lands of the kingdom t ; but as the zeal of the people cooled, complaints were made of tlie impoverishment and distress which were occasioned by so general a burden ; and James, admonished by the defalcation in the second collection, witli equal prudence and gene- rosity, directed that no further efforts should be • Fordun, vol. ii., p. 484. f Acts of the Parliament of Scotland, vol. ii, p. 4. JAMES THE FIRST. 5 made to levy the imposition*. la his tliirtl Parlia- ment, which assembled at Perth on the 12th of March, 1425, the administration of justice, through- out every portion of the kingdom, was provided for by the institution of a new ambulatory court, deno- minated the ' Session.' It consisted of the Chan- cellor and certain persons of the three estates, to be selected by the King, who were to hold tlieir sittings, three times in the year, at whatever place the royal will should appoint, for the determination of all causes and quarrels which might be brought before them f. Another material object was the amendment of the laws, and their promulgation throughout the most distant parts of the country. For this purpose a committee of six of the most able and learned counsellors, to be chosen from each of the three estates was directed to examine the books of the law, Regiam Majestatem and Quoniam Attachiamenta, to exphiin their obscuri- ties, reconcile their contradictions, and, in the ancient and simple language of the times, ' to mend such as need mending.' Copies of the- statutes of the realm were directed to be distri- buted to all sheriffs throughout the country ; and these judges were, in their turn, enjoined to publish them in the principal places of their sheritlUom, and to furnish copies to all prelates, barons, and other persons of authority, who applied for them. Although enjoving a profound j)eace both at home and abroad, James did not neglect that warlike j)olicy which is its best preservation ; armed musters, or ' weapon schawings,' were appointed to be iield * Fonitin, vol. ii. p. 482. f Acts of Parliaiiieiitj vul. ii., jj. 11. 6 JAMES THE FIRST. in every county, under tlie superintendence of the sheriff, four times in tlie year, at wliich all, capable of bearing arms, were compelled to attend for the purpose of having their weapons inspected, and devoting a portion of their time to the cultivation of warlike exercises. The baron, the yeoman, the wealthy burgher, the hind, the vassals of the church, were all equally called out on such occasions. Every yeoman, between sixteen and sixty years of age, was obliged to furnish himself with a bow and a sheaf of arrows ; gentlemen, possessing ten pounds value in land, were to arm themselves with sword, spear, and dagger, a steel cap and iron greaves, or leg-harness ; and those of less substance, in propor- tion to their estate ; whilst it was made incumbent on all merchants trading beyond seas, to bring home along with tlieir other cargoes, a good store of harness and quilted armour, besides spears, bows, and bowstrinirs. Duriurr his residence in England, and his campaigns in France under Henry the Fifth, the Scottish monarch had personally wit- nessed the fatal superiority of the English archers. He had himself arrived at great perfection in this martial exercise, and he was anxious to promote it amongst his subjects. The King next directed his attention to a still more arduous inquiry, — the state of the Highlands and Isles ; but he soon found, that without his personal presence in these remote districts, little success could be anticipated. He determined, therefore, to remedy this defect, and set out on a, ])rogress to Inverness, with a resolution not to return till he had eflectually reduced the northern portion of his dominions under the control of legi- JAMES THE FIRST. 7 timate authority. The condition of the Higlilands at tiiis period, so far as we can discern it by the feeble light of contemporary history, was in a high degree rude and uncivilized. There was to be found in them a singular admixture of the Scoto- Norinan, Celtic, and Scandinavian races. The tenure of lands by charter and seisin, the rights of the overlord, the duties of the vassal, the bonds of manrent, the baronial jurisdiction, the troops of armed retainers, the pomp of feudal life, and the ferocity of feudal manners, were all there to be met with in as fidl force as in the more southern parts of the kingdom. ' Powerful chiefs of Norman name and Norman blood had penetrated into their remotest fastnesses, and. ruled over multitudes of vassals and serfs, whose strange and uncouth appellatives proclaim their difi'erence of race in the most convincing manner*.' But the gloomy castles and inaccessible fortresses of these northern regions were also inhabited by many fierce chiefs of the pure Celtic race. They spoke a different language, lived under a totally different system of manners from the Norman barons, and regarded all intrusion into a coun- try which had been originally their own, with mingled feelings of disdain and abhorrence. Over their separate septs or clans, these haughty poten- tates exercised an equally despotic authority as the baron over his military followers; and whilst both disdained to acknowledge an allegiance to the monarch, of whose existence they were scarcely aware, and derided tlie authority of laws which they hardly understood, the perpetual disputes * History of Scotland, vol. iii., p. 2Jl. 8 JAMES THE FIRST. which arose between them, and the jealousy and ferocity of their followers, led inevitably to such scenes of spohation, imprisonment, and murder, as threatened to cut off the country beyond the range of the Grampians from all communication with the more pacific parts of the realm. It was, if possible, to put a period to this state of things, that James now determined to visit his northern dominions. Surrounded by liis barons, who were accom- panied by troops of armed retainers, and attended by a military force which rendered resistance hopeless, he took his progress to Inverness, from which lie issued to these northern chiefs his writs commanding their attendance at a Parliament to be held in that burgh. It is singular that they did not dare to disobey his summons, and the fact seems to point to some proceedings upon the part of the King of which all record has been lost, but bitterly did they repent their weakness or their credulity. Scarcely had they entered the hall of Parliament, when they were seized, manacled hand and feet, and cast into separate prisons, whilst the Monarch is described by Fordun as turning triumphantly to liis courtiers and reciting some monkish rhymes, applauding the skill by which they had been circumvented, and warning them of the folly of entertaining any hope of mercy. Amongst these victims the most noted were Alexander of the Isles, Angus Dhu or black Angus of Strathnarvern, with his four sons, Kenneth More or big Kenneth, his son-in-law Angus of Moray, Alexander Ma- crory of Garmoran, John Macarthur, AVilliam Lesley, and James Campbell. Macrory, Macar- JAMES THE FIRST. 9 tliur, and Campbell, men notorious for the law- lessness of their lives and the murders whicli they had committed, were instantly tried, convicted, and executed. Of the rest, some were imprisoned, others were suffered on a trial of amendment to return to their homes, whilst Alexander of the Isles, after a temporary restraint, was restored to liis liberty and permitted again to place himself at the head of those vassals whose allegiance, as well as his own, he solemnly engaged should never again be brought into question. But the promises of this fierce cliief, who had long been accustomed to a life of independence and piratic warfare, were broken so soon as he saw the gathering of his clansmen and the white sails of his galleys. At the head of an army of ten thousand men, embracing the whole strength of Ross and the Isles, he broke down from his northern retreats, and sweeping every thing before him, let loose the hottest of his wrath against the hinds belonging to the crown, whilst he concluded his expedition by rasing to the ground the royal burgh of Inverness *. The Highlander, however, had yet to learn tlie uncommon energy of the King, and the roval wrath overtook him with a strength and a rapidity for which he was not prepared. Scarcely had he time to divide his spoil, when he found himself furiously attacked in Lochaber by a force hastily levied and led by James in person, which scattered his undis- ciplined troops, more solicitous to escape with the plunder which they had secured, than to risk its loss by making head against the enemy. Deserted by * Fordun a Hearne, vol. iv. p. 1485. f Ibid. p. 128G. 10 JAMES THE FIRST. tlieclan Chattan and Cameron, who deemed it pru- dent to make their peace before the King's wrath was kindled to the uttermost, and convinced of his inability to maintain the strufr""le, tlie Island Prince, wliose pride was yet unconquered, dispatched am- bassadors to sue for peace, but they were dismissed from court with the utmost contempt, and the iiaughty monarch, deriding this feeble effort of a fugitive and outlaw to assume the state of an inde- pendent prince, commanded his sheriffs and officers to bring the rebel dead or alive into his presence. Hunted like a noxious animal from place to place, aware of the stern character of the King, and dis- trusting the fidelity of the few followers who were left, the unhappy man was driven at last to sue for life in a humiliating form. On a great solemnity when the King, surrounded by his prelates and nobles, stood in front of the high altar at Holyrood, a wretched-looking mendicant, squalid from suffering and misery, clothed only in his shirt and drawers, and holding a naked sword in his hand, threw him- self on his knees before the monarch, and holding his weapon by the point, presented it to James and implored his clemency. Jtwas the Highland Prince who had secretly travelled to the capital, and adopted this mode of conciliating tlie royal indignation*. James granted liim his life, but instantly shut him up in Tantallan Castle under the charge of the Earl of Angus, and at the same time imprisoned the Countess of Ross, his mother, a proud matron who was believed to have en- couraged her son in his rebellious courses. Both, however, were released not long after, and the * Fordun a Hearne, vol. iv., p. 1485. JAMES THE FIRST, 11 example of mingled severity and mercy had a happy effect in securing for a while the peace of tliese remote districts. The state of insubordination indeed to which they had arrived during the long usurpation of Albany can scarcely be conceived, and some anec- dotes have been preserved by our ancient histo- rians which paint it more forcibly than the most laboured descrij)tion. The highland districts, to use the language of the Chronicle of Moray, were little else at this moment than a den of robbers *, where might made right ; and it happened that under this state of misrule a poor Highland widow had been plundered by one of the Ketheran chiefs, who had stripjied her of her substance, and left her utterly destitute. Yet the spoiler walked abroad, and none dared to seize him. In the a^-onv of her heart, however, she confronted the robber chief, upbraided him with his cowardice, and declared she would never wear shoes again till she had herself carried her complaint before the Kins:. ' It shall be a broken vow,' said the monster, ' you shall be shod before you stir from this spot;' and instantly seizing the defenceless creature, he had two horse-shoes nailed to her naked feet, and thus bleeding and in agony she was thrust upon the highway. But superior to the sense of pain, and wrought up by her wrongs to a pitch of supernatural endurance, she main- tained her purpose, and falling into the hands of some humane persons, who removed the iron shoes, she travelled to Court, told her story to the King, and held up her feet, still torn and bleeding by the * MS. Chron. of i\Ioray, Cast. Moray, p. 220. 12 JAMES THE FIRST. inhuman treatment vvliich she liad received. Tlie character of James has been already described. In a tumult of commiseration for the victim who stood before him, and of uncontrollable wrath against her oppressor, he directed his instant orders to the Sheriff of the county where the out- rage had been committed, commanding him, on the peril of his head, to have the robber-chief apprehended, and sent to Perth, where the Court was then held. The energy of the King commu- nicated itself to his officers, and in a short time the miscreant was hurried into his presence, and instantly ordered to execution. A shirt, on which was painted a rude representation of his crime, was thrown over hiin ; and after having been dragged at a horse's heels, he was hanged, a memorable example of the speedy vengeance of the laws *. It is in circumstances like these that we applaud the stern severity of a character peculiarly fitted to rule over the cruel and iron-hearted hordes which then peopled his northern dominions, but there were other occasions when the lieart revolted at the royal severity. A nobleman, nearly related to the King, having quarrelled with anotlier baron, so far forgot himself as to strike his antagonist in presence of the Monarch : the crime, by the law, was capital ; but the King unsheathed the short cutlass which hung at his side, and with a look which forbade all further question, ordered the delinquent to stretch upon the table the hand which liad olfended. A thrill of horror ran through the Court, as he next turned to the baron who had * Fordun, vol. ii., p. 510. JAMES THE FIRST. 13 received tlie blow, and giving him the cutlass, commanded him to chop oft" the worthless member, which had dared to lift itself against the law. In vain his councillors and prelates implored forgive- ness for the culprit; James was inexorable, and the sentence would have been carried into execu- tion, had not the Queen, in an agony of distress, thrown herself at the feet of her husband, who, moved by her tears, consented to change the sen- tence into banishment *. It is remarkable, however, what dissimilar qua- lities were found united in this Prince. Prudence, political sagacity, generosity to his friends, cour- tesy, and even gentleness to those who submitted themselves to his authority, were conspicuous fea- tures in his character, and if distinguished for the inexorable severity with which he pursued the proudest offender, he was no less remarkable for his anxiety to consult the interests of the lowest classes of his subjects, and to give redress to the poorest sufferer. His first endeavours liad been p. 1334, 1335. 14 JAMES THE FIRST. they dared no longer to disobey the laws, for the execution of which they were sure, within a short period, to be made personally responsible. These observations are, however, principally applicable to the highest ranks of the feudal nobi- lity, for the lesser barons appear soon to have complained against the grievance of a too frequent attendance upon Parliament, and this remonstrance led to a change which is well worthy of notice. It was declared in a General Council held at Perth, on the 1st of March, 1427, that the smaller barons and free-tenants who had hitherto been summoned to Parliament, should be excused their attend- ance, provided from their number there were chosen for each sheriffdom two or more in pro- portion to its extent, who should be returned to Parliament as the representatives of the sheriifdoni from which they came. The Commissaries or re- presentatives were next directed to elect from their body an expert or able person, to be called the Common Speaker of the Parliament, whose duty it should be to bring forward all cases of importance involving the rights and privileges of the Commons ; and it was declared that they should enjoy a delegated power from their con- stituents to discuss and determine all such causes involving the rights of the lesser barons, which it might be expedient to bring before the Great Council or Parliament. The expenses of tliese commissaries were directed to be paid by the electors who owed suit and presence in the Par- liament, but were thus excused their attendance, wliilst it was added, that this should in no- JAMES THE FIRST. 15 way interfere with the bishops, abbots, earls, and other lords, who were to be summoned as usual by the King's special precept *. Tliis remarkable law contains the first introduction of tlie principles of a representative government in Scotland, and although expressed in brief and simple terms, we can discern in them the rude draught of a Lower House, under the form of a Committee or Assembly of the Commissaries of the Shires, who deliberated by tliemselves on the various subjects whicli they thought proper to be brought by their Speaker before the higher court of Par- liament. It is thus evident that an institution, which was afterwards to be claimed as the most valuable privilege of every free subject, the right of having a voice, by means of his representative, in the great council of the nation, arose, by a sin- gular contradiction out of an attempt to avoid it ; the lesser barons considered tlie necessity of at- tending Parliament an expensive grievance, and tlie King permitted them to be absent on condition of their electing a substitute and defraying his expenses. There were few subjects, in any way con- nected with the prosperity of the kingdom, which escaped the attention of tliis monarch ; the agri- culture, the manufactures, the foreign commerce, the fisheries, the state of the labouring classes, the provision regarding the increase of pauperism, the prices of manufactured commodities, and of labour, all were included in his inquiries, and became the subject of parliamentary enactment, if not always of parliamentary wisdom. It was * Acts of Parliament of Scotland, vol. ii., p. IG, c. 2. 16 JAMES THE FIRST. made incumbent upon the farmers and Imsband- men, and tlie greater barons, that they sliould annually sow a stated proportion of grain, pease and beans, under a fixed penalty ; a provision was introduced for the repair of the castles, for- talices, and manor places, which had been allowed to fall into decay in the remoter mountainous dis- tricts of the kingdom ; the transportation of bul- lion out of the realm was strictly prohibited ; four times in the year regular days were appointed in each barony for hunting the wolves, and a reward fixed for every wolf's-whelp which should be brought in, whilst the tenantry were enjoined, under a heavy penalty, to assist their masters in the ex- tirpation of such noxious animals. In these homely but not unenlightened cares for the prosperity of his kingdom, James was interrupted by a second embassy from France, to arrange more definitely the preliminaries for the marriage of the Princess Margaret with the Dauphin. At this mo- ment the Scottish King was little able to advance a dowry suitable to the rank of the royal bride ; for his revenues were still impoverished by the dilapi- dations of Albany and the payment of the heavy debt incurred during his detention in England. But the circumstances of France rendered men more acceptable than money; James agreed to send to that country a force of six thousand sol- diers in transports to be furnished by Charles the Seventh. In return, tlie Scottish Princess was to be ])rovidcd in an income as ample as any hitherto settled upon the Queens of France, and the county of Xaintongc and lordship of Rochfort were made over in property to her royal father. It is by no JAMES THE FIRST. 17 means improbable, tbat a jealousy on the part of England of this intimate connexion with tlieir enemy led to a proposal of Cardinal Beaufort, at this time the leading person in the English govern- ment, for a personal interview witii James, but it was declined. The Monarch deemed it beneath his dignity to confer in person with a subject, although he declared his anxiety that the amicable relations of the two kingdoms should be inviolably preserved. His attention to the interests of the poorer classes has been already noticed ; and in a Parliament held at Perth in A])ril, 14-29, a new proof of this was given, which, as leading to one of the most important rights of the subject, deserves atten- tion. It had not escaped the notice of the king^ that a fertile source of distress to the poorer tenantry and the labourers of the soil arose from the right possessed by their landlords of ex- pelling them from their farms, whenever they chose to grant a lease of the estate to a new ])ro- prietor. This hardship James was anxious to remove ; but he was compelled also to respect the customary law of the land, and by it such was then the miserable condition of a great proportion of the lower classes in Scotland, that their over-lord had a right to remove and dispose of them as if they were little better than the cattle u})on his property. It was beyond the })o\ver of the prince at once to raise them from this degraded state, but he remonstrated with his prelates and barons upon the evil consequences of its continuance, and he at least paved the way for its removal by making it a request to them, (which, coming froiu VOL. III. c T8 JAMES THE FIRST. such a quarter, no one, }3robably, would be disposed to refuse,) that where their lands had been leased out to a new tenant, they would not suddenly remove the poorer labourers, but would permit them to continue in possession for a year after the transaction. There can be little doubt that this benevolent enactment is to be considered as the first step towards that invaluable privilege which was, twenty years after, under the reign of James's successor, conferred on the body of the Scottish tenantry and labourers, whicli secured to them an undisturbed possession of their lands till the ex- piration of their lease, and which is familiarly known by the name of the real right of tack. Yet whilst the King showed himself thus so- licitous for the real interests of the great body of his people, he kept a strict eye upon the growth of idleness, or unnecessary luxuries and refine- ments. Their occupation as artizans or trades- men, their mode of travelling from place to place, their amusements, and even their dress — all were superintended and provided for with a' minute vigilance, and some of the sumptuary laws passed at this time convey a curious picture of the costume of the times. For example, we find it provided, that no person under the rank of a knight is to wear clothes of silk, adorned with furs, or embroidered with gold or pearls. An ex- ception was made in favour of aldermen, baillies, and councillors in the magistracy, who were per- mitted to wear furred gowns, whilst others were enjoined to equip themselves in such plain and honest apparel as became their station. It was the natural effect of the increase of wealth amongst JAMES THE FIRST. 19 the commercial classes, that the wives of the opu- lent burghers imitated, and probably exaggerated the dress of their superiors. Against this the law directed its anathema. ' Long trains, rich hoods and ruffs, purfled sleeves, and costly curches of lawn, were henceforth banished from the ward- robe of a commoner's wife, and permitted only as part of the bravery of a gentlewoman*.' In the same Parliament something- like an at- tempt is discernible for the establishment of a navy ; — one of the sources of national strength wherein the country was greatly deficient, and the want of which had been lately severely felt during the rebellion of the Lord of the Isles. All barons possessing lands within six miles of the sea were commanded to contribute towards the building of galleys for the public service at the rate of one oar for every four marks of land — a proportion whose exact value it is now impossible to discover. It is probable this enactment had some reference to the condition of the Highlands and Isles, where symptoms of disturbance again began to exhibit themselves, and whose fierce chieftains, in defiance of the recent examples, renewed their attempts to set the laws at defiance. Alan Stewart, Earl of Caithness, and Alexander Earl of Mar had been stationed by James in Lochaber for the })urpose of keeping this important district in subjection. Caith- ness was a brave, Mar a distinguished, soldier, and they commanded a force which was judged sufficient to keep its ground against any enemy likely to attack them. But Donald 13alloch, a fierce Ketheran leader, nearly related to the Lord * Acts of the Parliament of Scotland, vol.ii., pp. 17> 18. C 2 20 JAMES THE FIRST. of the Isles, assembled a formidable fleet and army, ran his galleys into tlie narrow sea which divides Morven from Lismore, disembarked his troops, and breaking down suddenly upon Lochaber, at- tacked the royal forces at Inverlochy. Such was the irresistible fury of the assault, that the dis- ciplined squares of the Lowland warriors were broken by the wild hordes which threw themselves upon them. Caithness, with sixteen of his per- sonal retinue and many other knights, were left dead on the field. Mar was more fortunate, vet it was with difficulty that he effected his retreat with the remains of the army, which narrowly es- caped being entirely cut to pieces. Lochaber now lay at the mercy of the victor, and had Donald Ealloch made an immediate advance, the conse- quences might have been serious; but this wild chief partook of the character of the northern pirates, who were commonly afraid of trusting themselves too far from their ships. He contented himself accordingly with the plunder of Lochaber, and reimbarking in liis galleys retired at first to the Isles, and soon afterwards to Ireland *. Some time previous to this the Queen was deli- vered of twin sons, a joyful event which, in the prospect it gave of a successor to the throne, alle- viated James's disappointment at the continued dis- turbances which arose in the north. The defeat of his army, however, and a desperate feud or private war which had broke out in Caithness between Angus Dow Mackay and Angus Murray called for his iumiediate presence, and, with his wonted activity, he determined to lead an army against his * Fordun a Ilcarne, vol. iv., p. 1289. JAMES THE FIRST. 21 reLels in person. Before lie couW reach the re- moter Hitjlilands tlie rival armies of the two Catlieran ciiiefs had met in Strallmaver, a remote valley in Caithness which is watered by the river Naver, and the conflict was maintained with so fierce and exterminating a spirit, that out of twelve hundred only nine men returned from the field. Amid such a butchery it cannot be ascertained, and the information is scarce worth seeking, to wliom the victory belonged ; but to the peaceable inhabi- tants of the country the consequences of the conflict were peculiarly grievous, by throwing it into a state of insecurity and terror. Every man who had lost a friend or a relative in tlie battle con- sidered it a sacred duty to allow himself no rest till he had inflicted a bloody retaliation on those by whom he had fallen ; and this feudal privilege, or rather duty, drew after it a series of spoliations, slaughters, and atrocities which interrupted for the time all regular industry and improvement. Determined that these things should have an end, James, notwithstanding the advanced season of the year, summoned his nobles with their feudal ser- vices to meet him at Perth : whence, having first held a Parliament, and raised supi)lies to defray the expenses of the exj.'edilion, lie proceeded at the head of a force suflicient to overawe all opposition to Dunstaffinch Castle. From this it was his determination to pass into the Western Isles and inflict an exemplary punishment upon the piratic chiefs who had been lately concerned in the rebel- lion of Donald Balloch, but any further progress ivas found unnecessary. The royal standard had scarcely waved from the towers of Dunstathncli, 22 JAMES THE FIRST. when the monarch found himself surrounded by crowds of suppliant chieftains, who brought their men and their ships to his assistance ; and, im- ploring pardon for a co-operation with a tyrant whose power it would have been death to resist, renewed their homage with every expression of devoted loyalty. James, however, as the price of his mercy, insisted that they should deliver over to him the principal offenders in the late disgraceful scenes of outrage and rebellion ; and although many of these were their friends and vassals, disobedience to the demand was impossible. Three hundred robbers, men hardened in crime and trained from their early years to blood and rapine, were brought bound hand and foot and delivered to the monarch. The spectacle of this ferocious troop, marching along, and guarded by the officers of the King, had a salutary effect in impressing upon the people of this district an idea of the certainty and severity of the law, which was not lessened when, with that inexorable justice which distin- guished, and almost blemished, his character, James ordered them all to immediate execution*. Having by sucli methods, perhaps, the only course which could have succeeded in this iron age, re-established the order and security of his northern dominions, the King found time to de- vote himself to more pacific cares. His twin sons were baptized with great splendour and solemnity, the Earl of Douglas standing godfather. Of these hoys tlie eldest was named Alexander, and died very young ; but the second took the name of his * Acts of Parliament, vol. ii., p. 20 ; Buchanan, b. x., c. 33— 3G. JAMES THE FIRST. 23 father, and succeeded him in the throne. Both the infants were created knights at the font ; and in honour of tlie occasion the Monarcli hestowed the same dignity upon fifty other youths selected from the noblest families in the country. Feast- ing, games, tournaments, and every species of feudal revelry accompanied the ceremony ; and the people, who had perhaps been somewhat alarmed. at the excessive sternness with which the laws had been executed against the guilty, w"ere pleased to discover that to the peaceable and orderly-disposed classes of his subjects no prince could be more courteous, accessible, and even affectionate. In the midst of these rejoicings a terrible guest revisited Scotland. So far back as 1348 the pes- tilence had carried off almost a third of the whole population. It bad returned in 1361, — again in 1378 had committed very fatal ravages ; and now, after an interval of more than half a century, it once more broke out, to the dismay of the people, who had scarcely begun to enjoy the sweets of security under a regular government, when they were attacked by this new calamity. Nearly about the same time there occurred a total eclipse of the sun, which for a short time involved the whole country in darkness as deep as midnight ; and whilst the pestilence stalked abroad, and the blessed and healthy light of heaven was with- held, mens' minds became agitated with super- stitious terror of the pestilence ; the ravages were very great*. There can be little doubt that the poverty of the lower classes, the cessation of the labours of agriculture by the prevalence of * Fordun a Hearne. vol. iv., p. 1307. 24 JAMES THE FIRST. private war, the plunder of the industrious pea- santry, and the consequent relapse of large districts, once fertile and cultivated, into a state of nature, aggravated, to the greatest degree, if they did not actually occasion this dreadful national scourge. It is melancholy to find that amid this general distress the fires of religious persecution were again kindled in the heart of the country. The reader is already femiliar with the fate of Resbj', the undaunted disciple of Wickliff, who, twenty- eight years before this, was condemned by Lau- rence of Lindores, and fearlessly refusing to retract his opinions, suffered at the stake in 1405. The Church were not then, probably, aware of the ex- tent to which his doctrines had spread amongst the people ; but it is certain that they had been adopted by a very considerable sect of disciples who met in secret, freely and boldly attacked the fundamental errors of the Romish faith, and appeal- ing to the written word of God as the single test of truth, rejected its splendid and imposing ceremo- nial, as founded on the fallible traditions of man. It was natural that these supporters of the truth, whilst they concealed their opinions from the world, should be anxious to open a communication with their brethren on the Continent who had adopted the doctrines of "Wickliff, and for this purpose Paul Crawar, a Bohemian jdiysician, arrived in Scotland, soon after James's return from his second expedition to the nortli. His ostensible object seemed to be the practice of his art, regarding his eminence in which he brought letters which spoke in the highest terms, but it JAMES THE FIRST, 25 was soon discovered that, in the exercise of a pro- fession which admitted him into the confidence and privacy of domestic life, lie seized every op- portunity of disseminating principles subversive of the ancient doctrines of the Church, and of exposing the ignorance, cunning, and rapacity of the priesthood. It was not to be expected that such conduct should long escape the jealous vigilance of the clergy, and that same Laurence of Lindores, who had signalized himself by his zeal against Resby, determined that his successor should also feel the strength of his inquisitorial powers. Crawar was accordingly summoned before him, and although lie defended his tenets with remarkable courage and acuteness, his piety and learning were little convincing to the tribunal before which he pleaded. It a])peared indeed at his examination, that, under the garb of a physician, he was a zealous minister of the word of God, and had been deputed by the citizens of Prague, a city which had adojited the tenets of Wicklitf, lo keep alive in Scotland the flame of reformation originallv kindled by Resby. An ancient historian of these times has left us a sunnnary of tlie articles of his creed. He taught that the Bible ought to be freely communicated to the people ; that the civil magistrate had a right to arraign and punish delinquent ecclesiastics ; that the efficacy of pilgrimages, the existence of ])urgatory, the doctrine of transubstantiation, the system of penance and absolution, and the power of the keys claimed by the Roman pontiff, were all inventions and delusions of men. In the 26 JAMES THE FIRST. administration of the Lord's Supper, he and his disciples, renouncing as too complicated and artificial the splendid ceremonial of the Romish church, adhered as much as possible to the primi- tive simplicity of apostolic times. They com- menced the service by repeating the Lord's Prayer ; the chapters of the New Testament were then read which contained the history of the institution of the Supper, and they then proceeded to distribute the elements, using common bread and a common chalice*. It is very evident that, in such tenets and prac- tices, we discover not merely the twilight, but a near approximation to the full blaze of the Refor- mation ; and when they once detected the powerful, consistent, and systematic attack which had thus teen made against the whole fabric of their Church, we are not to wonder that the Romanists became seriously alarmed. L'nfortunately, James the First had imbibed under Henry the Fourth and Fifth an early disposition towards religious per- secution. These monarchs were ever ready to purchase the friendship of the influential body of the Clergy, at the price of religious persecution, and the Scottish monarch, in tiie prosecution of his schemes for humbling the power of the greater barons, was ready to pay in the same coin for the same commodity : Crawar, therefore, had nothing to hope for from the clemency of the sovereign, and refusing to retract liis belief in the great truths which he had so ably defended, he was con demned, and led to the stake. The sight of the * Fordun, vol. ii., p. 495. JAMES THE FIRST. 27 flames did not shake liis resolution even for a moment, and he suffered not only with constancy, but with triumph. On his return to his dominions after his long detention in England, James, as it might have been anticipated, found the royal lands and reve- nues in a dilapidated condition, and his power as an independent monarch proportionably weak- ened. It arose from the same causes, that, during this interval, the strength, pride, and independence of the greater barons had increased to an alarming degree. The Duke of Albany, anxious to secure their support, had not dared to restrain their excesses ; and there can be little doubt that many grants out of the royal customs, many portions silently cut off from the estates belonging to the crown, were presented by this crafty and sagacious usurper to those barons whose good offices he was anxious to secure, or whose enmity he was de- sirous to neutralize. That all this had taken place could not long be concealed from the King, but on his first assuming the government he was neither fully informed of the extent of the abuse, nor prepared to administer a remedy. AV hen, however, he became more firmly seated on the throne, when he felt his own strength, and had exhibited to his nobles and his people that remark- able mixture of wisdom, vigour and severity, which formed his character, the purposes of the prince and the feelings of tlie pco])le exj)erienced a cliange. It became evident to the monarch, that, unless he succeeded in curtailing the overgrown power of his nobles, and recovering for the crown the wealth and the influence which it had lost, he must be 28 James the first. contented to be little more than a nominal sove- reign ; and, on the other hand, it was not long before the aristocracy were convinced that the time had arrived when they must consent quietly to part with no small portion of that license to do wrong which they had arrogated to themselves under the unprincipled administration of Albany. Some sacrifice they were probably ready to make rather than come into collision with a monarch of whose indomitable energy of cliaracter they had witnessed some appalling specimens; but James had determined to abridge their authority still more effectually than they imagined, and he began with the most powerful baron in the country — the Earl of March. The extent, and, still more, the situation of his estates, rendered this feudal potentate a person of high consequence, and entrusted him with a power which was too great for a subject. He possessed the strong castle of Dunbar, and his lands, which stretched out into a little principality along the borders, gave him a command of the prin- cipal ])asses by which an enemy could enter. It was thus a common saying that March held at his girdle the keys of the kingdom; and the frequent attempts on the part of England, during the whole course of our history, to seduce the Earls of March from their allegiance, sufficiently proved that the kings of that country were well aware of the im])ortance of the accession. Nor had James to go far back for a proof that this exorbitant power was a thorn in the side of the country. The Earl who then wielded it was in- deed more pacific and unoffending than his fore- JAMES THE FIRST. 29 fathers ; but his father, a man of powerful talents and restless ambition, had been the cause of great misery to Scotland. AVe have seen that when the Duke'of Rolhsay, James's elder brother, broke his plighted faith to Elizabeth of Dunbar, March's daughter, this haughty baron fled in disgust to England ; and, renouncing his allegiance, invaded his native country in company with Hotspur*. The calamitous defeat at Homildon had been chiefly ascribed to his military skill, and for eight years he had remained in England an able rene- gade, attached to the interests of Henry the Fourth. These were circumstances which it was natural should impart to James an early antipathy against this baron ; and his return to Scotland, on the accession of Albany, where he continued to enjoy the favour and protection of tlie usurper, was not calculated to diminish the impression. The elder March, whose career we have just de- scribed, continued to reside in Scotland from 1408 to 1420, the period of his death, in the full pos- session of Ills hereditary power and estates, and his son succeeded quietly to the immense property of his father. Certainly, in strict justice, nothing could be more irregular tlian all this. Tiie elder March had been guilty not of an act but of a life of treason ; and there can be no doubt that, under Robert the Third, his whole estates were forfeited to the Crown. Albany's government, on the other hand, was one long act of usurpation, that of his son IMurdoch stood exactly in the same predicament ; and although by their authority the father and the * Vol. ii., Lives of Scottish M'ortlues, p. 2-iO. to JAMES THE FIRST. son had been permitted for sixteen years to pos- sess their estates, yet it will not admit of a doubt that, according to the strict principles of the feudal law, this could not remove the sentence of for- feiture ; James rightly reasoned that nothing short of an act of pardon and indemnity by his father or himself could have restored the Earl to the le- gitimate possession of the lands which he had forfeited. Till then, in the eye of the law, his blood was tainted, his title extinct, his possessions the sole property of the Crown, and he himself a nameless and landless traitor : but although such were the strict principles by which we must con- sider the situation of tliis powerful baron, the King appears, for ten years after his return to his do- minions, to have permitted him to enjoy his here- ditary estate and title. It may be observed, how- ever, that the Earl of March was one of those barons who were arrested by James immediately previous to the execution of Duke Murdoch and his sons ; and it is quite possible that some trans- action may have then taken place, of which no record now remains, but which, if known, would have placed the conduct of the king in a less harsh light than we view it through the meagre records which have been left. Yet, it must be allowed that all that we know of the character of this monarch renders it })robable that he dissembled his designs against March till he found himself strong enough to carry them into execution, per- mitting him to enjoy his title and his lands, but abstaining from every act which might be pleaded on as having removed the forfeiture. The period, however, had now arrived when JAMES THE FIRST. 31 the long-protracted sentence was to be enforced against him. In the Parliament which as- sembled at Perth, in January, 1434, the question regarding the property of the late Earl of March, and its reversion to the crown, was discussed with great solemnity. The advocates of the king, and the counsel for the person then in possession, were first heard, after which the judges declared it to be their unanimous opinion, that, in con- sequence of the treason of Lord George of Dunbar, formerly Earl of March, the lands held by that baron, and the feudal dignities attached to them, had reverted to the King, to wiiom as the foun- tain of all honour and property, they now be- longed. The strict justice of this sentence could not be questioned, and it met with no oppo- sition either from the Earl or his adherents ; but it becomes not a sovereign to inflict, on all occa- sions, the extremest sentence of the law, and nei- ther the nobiHty nor tlie people could see without emotion a baron of ancient and noble lineage re- duced at once to the condition of a nameless out- cast, and estates, which for many centuries had been possessed without challenge, torn from his hands to enrich the coffers of the Crown. The King himself appears to have been solicitous to soften the blow to March : he created liim Earl of Buchan, and out of the revenues of this northern principality bestowed on him an annual pension of four hundred marks ; but he disdained to accept a title which he considered as a badije of his desra- dation, and, forsaking his country with mingled feel- ings of grief and indignation, retired to England*. * Acts of the Parliament of Scotland, vol. ii., p. 23. 32 JAMES THE FIRST, In a former Parliament, a statute had been passed by which all alienations of lands made by the governor of the realm, in consequence of the de- mise of a bastard, were declared to be revocable by the Crown, although the transaction had been completed by feudal investiture. It is by no means unlikely that this was connected with other acts, by which all transactions of Albany and Murdoch, in relation to the landed property of the kingdom, might become subject to challenge. These statutes, when viewed in connexion with the fate of March, were enough to alarm the nobi- lity, and by degrees, as the stern character of the King developed itself, and the patient but unbending vigour with which he pursued his designs became apparent, a dark suspicion began to arise in their minds that should he live to complete them, the power and independence of the Scottish aristocracy would be at an end. Tliey could not conceal from themselves th;it, if rigidly scrutinised, the titles by wliich they held their estates were, in some cases, as questionable as that of March, and their conscience probably brought to their recollection many transactions during James's captivity in England, which if strictly investigated, approached indefinitely near to treason. These circumstances did not fail to create feelings of distrust and insecurity on the part of his nobles towards their sovereign, which, although con- cealed at present under an affected acquiescence in the royal will, could not long exist in a fendal government, witliout leading to some open rupture. An unusual transjaction took place before the Parliament was dissolved; the King JAMES THE FIRST. 33 required the whole lords temporal and spiritual, as well as the commissaries of the burghs, to give their bonds of adherence and fealty to the Queen before returning to their homes *. It may, per- haps, be inferred from this that James had already causes for distrust and suspicion, but this is con- jectural. The truce with England still continued, and the government of Henry the Sixth, alarmed by the successes of the Maid of Orleans, who had wrested from the English a great portion of their French conquests, became anxious for the conclusion of a lasting peace between the two countries. To pur- chase this, the English Regency declared them- selves ready to deliver Berwick and Roxburgh into the hands of the Scots, and the King having as- sembled a Parliament, the proposal appeared to the temporal barons and the majority of the pre- lates far too advantageous to be declined. There appears, however, to have been a strong ])arty, headed by the Abbots of Scone and Inchcolm, which, from their attachment to the interests of France, contended that it was impossible to go into these proposals without breaking the late treaties of alliance and marriage between that coun- try and Scotland ; and such was the force of the arguments they employed, that the Parliament at first delayed their answer, and finally rejected the overtures of peace f. This appears to have led to a renewal of hostilities upon the borders, and a wanton infraction of the truce by Sir Robert Ogle, one of those stirring feudal knights who * Acts of Parliament, vol. ii., p. 292. t Forduu a Ileanic, vol. iv., pp. loOD, 1310 VOL. III. D 34 JAMES THE FIRST. languislied under any 'long continuance of peace. Breaking across the marches at the head of a strong body of men at arms, and without any object but phnider and defiance, he was met by the Earl of Angus, Hepburn of Hailes, and Ramsay of Dalhousie, near Piperden, and completely de- feated, liimself taken prisoner, and almost the whole of his party cut to pieces. It was now time to send the Princess Margaret, who had reached her tenth year, to her consort the Dauphin. A small squadron of three ships and six barges was fitted out, and placed under the command of the Earl of Orkney, High Admiral of Scotland. A guard of a hundred and forty youthful squires, selected from the noblest families in the land, and a thousand men at arms, attended the bride; and the Bishop of Brecliin, Ogilvy the High Treasurer, Sir John Maxwell, Sir John AVischart, and many other barons and knights, accompanied her to France. Anxious by every niethod to prevent an alliance in which they saw an increase of the hostility of Scotland, and a dangerous accession of strength to France, the English Regents fitted out a large fleet, which was anchored off Brest, with the object of intercepting and seizing the Princess on her passage to her husband. It was impossible that the Scottish monarch should be unmoved at an insult like this, committed in a time of truce, and wliich reminded him of the parallel treachery of which he had himself been the victim. The scheme, however, fortunately failed, the little fleet of the Princess, having escaped the vigilance of the English, en- tered the port of Rochelle, where she was received JAMES THE FIRST. 35 by the Archbishop of Rheims, and a brilliant train of French nobility, and the marriage was afterwards celebrated with great magnificence at Tours. The character of the French Prince, to whom she was united, and who became afterwards known as Lewis the Eleventh, is familiar to most readers, and her lot as his wife was singularly wretched. The late infraction of the truce, and this un- worthy attempt to intercept the Princess, effectually roused the King, and he determined to renew the war. It is not improbable that there were other motives : James may have deemed a renewal of hostilities the best method of giving employment to many discontented spirits, who in peace were likely to be more mischievously engaged. But the army which he assembled, although numerous, was weakened by disaffection ; and after having for fifteen days laid siege to Roxburgh, the cam- paign concluded in an abrupt and mysterious manner. The Queen suddenly arrived in the camp, and although the place was not expected to hold out many days longer, the King, with a haste which inferred some secret cause of danger and alarm, disbanded his army and precipitately re- turned to his capital*. This was in August. Two months after a Parliament assembled at Edinburgh, in which nothing transpired or was enacted which throws light upon these suspicions. The probability is that discontentment, perhaps conspiracy, continued to exist ; but we have no clue to unravel it, and events for a short space seemed to reassume their ordinary tenor. * Fordun a Goodal, vol. ii., p. 502. D 2 36 JAMES THE FIRST. We are now arrived at that gloomy jieriod when a reign, hitherto more than commonly prosperous, and in wliich the Monarch carried through his schemes with an energy and ability which seemed to promise a long career, was destined to close with an a])palling suddenness. It is to be regretted that, at this interesting moment, the accounts of our contemporary historians, and the evidence of our national records, are both extremely indistinct and unsatisfactory, so that the causes of the con- spiracy against James the First are involved in much obscurity. In the feelings indeed of a great pro])ortion of persons in the country, any daring individuals desirous of effecting a revolution, might have discovered ample ground for hope and encou- ragement. The rigour with which the King carried on the administration, whilst it gave a happy in- terval of comfort and security to the people, was disjileasing to a large portion of the nobility j and the contrast between the feudal license and privileged disorder of the government of Albany, ■with the rigid justice and severity of James, was deplored by many fierce spirits to whom rapine had become a trade and a delight. To these, any prospect of a change could not fail to be accept- able ; and it must be remembered, tliat, according to the miserable principles of the feudal system then in full force in Scotland, the disaffection of any baron was sure to draw along with it the enmity of the whole body of his followers. But in accounting for the designs against this Monarch, it is also to be remembered, that there must have been many, and these of tlie highest rank, who were animated by a still deeper enmity. JAMES THE FIRST. 37 The impression made upon the numerous con- nexions of the unfortunate Albany and Lennox, by the unmeasured severity of their punislnnent, was not to be easily eradicated. Revenge was a feudal duty, and such were the dark principles of this iron time, that the longer it was delayed the more fully and the more unsparingly was the debt of blood exacted. These circumstances, how- ever, are to be considered not as the causes, but the encouragements, of a conspiracy, the actual history of which is involved in obscurity. The great actors in the plot were Sir Robert Graham, Walter, Earl of Athole, a son of Robert the Se- cond, and his grandson. Sir Robert Stewart, Chamberlain to the King. In Graham, the mo- tives which led to his mortal enmity against the King have been clearly ascertained. At the time of the execution of Albany this baron had been imprisoned, in common with other adherents of that powerful family, but, in addition to this cause of quarrel, the conduct of James in seizing, or resuming the Earldom of Strathern, had created a determined purpose of revenge. David, Earl of Strathern, was the eldest son of Robert the Second, by his second marriage with Euphemia Ross. This David left an only child, a daughter, who married Patrick Graham, son of Sir Patrick Gra- ham of Kincardine, and, in right of his wife, by the acknowledged law of Scotland, which al- lowed the transmission of feudal dignities through females, Earl of Strathern. To her eldest son, by the same law, the estates and the dignity of tills earldom unquestionably belonged ; but the King contended that it was a male fief, and that, f-y, ,j > -"^ ^ ^ 'f ^8 JAMES THE FIRST. upon the death of David, Earl of Strathern, it ought to have reverted to the crown. He accord- ingly dispossessed Mahse Graham, and seized the estates of Strathern ; but, to reconcile his nobility in some degree to the severity of such a proceed- ing, he conferred the life-rent of the earldom upon Athole, and erected the new earldom of Menteith in favour of Graham. At the time that he was thus deprived of his paternal inheritance, Malise was in England, de- tained as one of the hostages for the payment of the money due by James ; but Robert Graham, his uncle, indignantly remonstrated against the wrong done to his nephew; and finding his repre- sentations ineffectual, determined on revenge. The character of tliis baron was of tliat dark and power- ful kind which made him a danarerous enemv. He was cruel, crafty, and eloquent ; he could conceal his private ambition under the specious veil of zeal for the public good ; he pursued his purposes with a courage superior to the sense of danger, and followed the instinct of his revenge with a delijjht unchecked either by mercy or remorse. Of all these qualities he gave amj)le proof in the events which followed. It may be doubted whether he at first ven- tured to explain to the nobles, whom he had at- tached to his party, any more serious design than that of abridging the power of the King under which they had lately suffered so severely, and resuming into their own hands not only the lands of which they had been deprived, but the feudal prerogatives which had been, by the late -acts of the legislature, so materially curtailed. JAMES THE FIRST. 39 Animated by this desire it was determined that they should draw up a list of their grievances, for the purpose of presenting it to the monarch. The first was an easy task to discontented men ; but all shrunk from laying it before the Parliament, till Graham, having first made them promise that they would support him against the royal disj)lea- sure, undertook the dangerous commission. His daring character, however, hurried him into an ■ excess for which his associates were not pre- pared. He described, in glowing colours, the tyranny of the government; adverted to the ruin which had fallen on the noblest houses ; to the destruction which might be meditated against them -at that moment by a Prince who wrested the ancient laws and customs of the kingdom to suit the pur- poses of his own ambition ; and, appealing to the barons who surrounded him, implored them to save themselves and the country, were it even at the ex- pense of subjecting to restraint the person of the sovereign. This au a Utile. 'pride. 58" JAMES THE FIRST. That instantly mine heart became her thrall For ever, of free will ; for nought was seen But gentleness in her soft looks sereue. In the Prince's situation, says an excellent critic, viewing from his prison window the beautiful Jane walking below in the palace garden, he could not with propriety or verisimilitude have given a mi- nute description of her features ; but he describes the sweetness of her countenance, untinctured by the slightest expression of pride or haughtiness ; her beauty, health, and blooming youth, and the sudden and irresistible passion with which these had inspired him *. He paints also her rich attire ; and the picture is not only a charming piece of highly-finished poetry, but interesting as bringing before us the female costume of the time : — Of her array the form gif I shall wryte, Toward her gulden hair and rich attire, In fretwise couchet with the perles white, ' And grtat balas,^ lemyng like to the fire, With many an emerant and fair saphire ; And on her head a chaplet fresch of hue Of plumys parted, red and white and blue. Full of the quakyng spaugis bright as gold, Forged of shape like to the amorettys'. So new, so fresh, so pleasant to behold ; The plumys eke like to the flower jonettcs,'* And other of shape like to the flower joucjuettes ; * And above all this there was, well I wot, Beauty enow to make a world to dote. * Tytler's Poetical Remains of James I. p. 80. ' covered with a net, or fretwork of pearls, balas, a precious stone of the ruby kind, from Balassia in India. ^ love knots. ^ uukuown. * jonquils. s JAMES THE FIRST. 59 About her neck, white as the fine amaille ', A goodly chain of small orfeveiye *, Quhareby there hung a ruby without faille ^j Like to ane herte schapen, verily, That as a spark of lowe ■* so wantonly Semj t byrning upon her quhite throte ; Now gif there was gude pertye, God it wote: And for to walk that fresche Mayis morrowe, Ane huke* she had upon her tissue white, That goodlier had not bene seen to forowe, As 1 suppose — and girte she was alyte Thus halilyng loose for haste, to suich delyte It was to see her j'outh in gudelihed, That for rudeness to speak thereof 1 drede. In her was zouth. beauty, with humble port, Bountee, richesse, and womanly feature, God better wote than can my pen report ; ■Wisdom, largesse, estate and cunning sure, In every poynt so guided her mesure In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance, That Nature might no more her child advance. Throw which anon I knew and understood Wele that she wUs a wardly^ creature, On whom to rest myne eyen, so mich gude It did my woful hert ; 1 zovv assure That it was to me joy without mesure ; And at the last my louk unto the Hevin I threw forthwith, and said thir verses seven. It is not difficult, giving almost line for line, to present the English reader with a transcript of these sweet verses — Write I of her array and rich attire, — A net of pearl enclosed her tresses round, Wherein a Balas flamed as bright as fire, And midst the golden curls, an emerant hotmd, Painted with greeny light the flowery ground. Upon her head a chaplet, fresh of hue, Of plumes divided, red and white and blue. ^ enamel. ' goldsmith's work. ^ without flaw. ^ fire. * clasp. " worldly. 60 JAMES THE FIRST. Which, waving, showed their spangles carved in gold, Formed by nice art Hke amorous love-knots all ; Glancing most bright, and pleasant to behold, Aud shaped like that sweet flower, that on the wall Grows fragrant, which young lovers jonquil call ; Yet still above all this, she had, I wote, Beauty enough to make a world to dote. About her neck, that whiter was than snow, She wore a chain of rich orfeverye ; Where pendant hung a ruby, formed I trow Like to a heart — so seemed its shape to me; Which bright as spark of fire danced wantonly Whene'er she moved, u pon her throat so white, That I did wish myself that jewel bright. Early astir to taste the morn of Ma}', Her robe was loosely o'er her shoulders thrown, Half open as in haste, yet maidenly. And clasped, but slightly, with a beauteous zone, Through which a world of such sweet youthhead shone. That it did move in me intense delight, Most beauteous — yet whereof I may not write. In her did beauty, youth, and bounty dwell, A virgin port and features feminine ; Far better than my feeble pen can tell. Did meek-ejed wisdom in her gestures shine ; She seemed perfay — a thing almost divine In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance. That Nature could no more her child advance. We pass over the address to Venus, but the lines wliich succeed are too beautiful to be omitted : Quhen I with gude intent this orison Thus endit had, I sfynt a lytil stound'. And eft mine eye full pitously adoun I kest, behalding there hir lyttill hound. That with his bellis playiton the ground ; Then wold I say, and sigh therewith a lyte*, Ah wele were him that now were in thy plyte', * staid a little while. * little. ^ collar or chaiu. JAMES THE FIRST. 61 An other quhyle the lytill nightingale That sat upon the twip^gis wold 1 chicle, And say licht thus, — Quhare are thy notis small That thou of love hast sung this morowe tyde r" Sees thou not her that sittis thee besyde, For Venus' sake the blissful goddesse cleie, Sing on agane and make my ladye chere. The feelings of the lover, who envies the little dog that wears the chains of his mistress and plays around her with his bells, and his expostulation with the nightingale, who is silent when she to whom she should pour her sweetest melody was sitting near her, are conceived in the sweetest vein of poetry. But to the delight of seeing his mis- tress succeeds a train of melancholy reflection on his miserable fate as a prisoner, cut off from all hope of intercourse or acquaintance. The thought overwhelms him with distress; he sits in his soli- tary chamber, till the golden sun had sunk in the west, Bidding farewell to every leaf and flower. Then ' Hesperus gan light his lamp on high ;' and as sorrow and darkness deepen around liim, he leans his head on the cold stone, and, overcome with weariness and languor, falls into a dreamy sleep. Suddenly a bright ray of light pierces his lattice, illuminating the whole apartment ; a gentle voice addresses him in words of comfort and encourage- ment, and he finds himself lifted inlo the air, and conveyed in a cloud of crystal to the sphere of Venus : — Methought that thus all soJcynly a lycht In at the v\iudow came (juhaieat 1 lent, Of which the chamber window sihoiie fidl brycht, And all my bodye so it hath o't-rwent. 62 JAMES THE FIRST. That of my sicht the verteu hale I bleat, And that withal a voice unto me said, I bring comfort and hele — be not afraid. And fiirth anon it passit sodeynly Where it come in by, the rycht way ageyne, And sone methocht furth at the door in hye, I went my way, was nething me ageyne, And hastily, by bothe the armes tweyne, I was araisit up into the aire, Clipt in a cloud of crystal cleare and faire. In this resplendent chariot the royal lover is con- veyed from sphere to sphere, till he reaches the glad empire Of blissful Venus, which he finds crowded, as was to be expected, with all descriptions of lovers — Of every age and nation, class and tongue — the successful, the unfortunate, the faithful, tlie selfish, the hypocritical, accompanied by tliose alle- gorical personages — Prudence, Courage, Benevo- lence, Fair Calling — which abound in the poetry of this period, and whose introduction is rather the fault of the age than of the author. Through the various chambers peopled bv his amorous devotees we cannot follow him ; and we fear the reader, should he make tlie attempt for himself, would find it rather a tedious pilgrimage, altliough the way would be lightened by many touches of genuine poetry. Cupid, in his chair of state, his yellow locks bound with a verdant chaplet, his fatal quiver glittering at his side, and his body With wingis bright all plumed, but' his face, is a fine personification ; and the discourse of ^ Except. JAMES THE FIRST. 63 Venus, somewliatplatonic and metapliysical for the queen of ' becks and wreathed smiles,' contains some beautiful poetry. Nor is it unworthy of notice, that although a pagan divinity is intro- duced, her counsels do not breathe the licentious spirit of the Cyprian queen of classical antiquity, but are founded on better and holier principles : the Venus of the royal bard is the goddess of lawful disport and pure and virtuous love. She first ascertains that her votary is none of those That feynis truth in love but for a while, The silly ianocent woman to beguile : comparing them to the fowler, imitating the various notes of the birds that he may decoy them into his net ; and after having satisfied herself that he is consumed by the flame of a virtuous attach- ment, he is addressed in the language of encou- ragement, assured of her benign assistance, and despatched, under proper guidance, to seek counsel of Minerva. The precepts of this sage goddess present rather a monotonous j)arallel to the advice of Venus; after which, the votary of love is dis- missed from her court, and, like Milton's Uriel, descends upon a sunbeam to the earth: — right anon I took my leave, as straight as any line, Witliiu a beam that IVoni the clime divine She piercing thro the firmament extemled, And thus to earth my sprite again descended. We cannot follow the poet in his quest of For- tune, which occu])ies the fifth canto, but its opening verses are singularly beautiful: — Quhare in a lusty ' plane I took my way Endlang* a ryver, plesand to behold, ' delightful. * along the brink of a river. 64 JAMES THE FIRST. Embrontlin all with fiesche fli)inis gay, Quhare thro' the gravel, bright as ony gold, The cristal water ran so clere and cold, That in mine ear it made continually A maner soini mellit with harmony '. That full of lytill fischis by the brym, Now here now there with bakkis blewe as lede, Lap and playit, and in a rout gan swym So prettily-, and dressit thame to sprede Their crural fynnis, as the ruby red, That in the sonne upon their scabs brycht. As gesserant ' ay glitterit in my sight. Beside this pleasant river he finds an avenue of trees covered with delicious fruits, and in the branches and under their umbrageous covert are seen the beasts of the forest; — The lyon king and his fere lyonesse; The pantere like unto the smaragdyne; The lytill sc^uerell full of besynesse; The blawe asse, the druggaie beste of pyne^ ; The nyce ape, and the werely'' porpapyne ; ; The percying lynx, the lufare unicorn That voidis veiiym with his evoure^ home. Thare sawe I dress hym new out of his haunt The fere figere, full of felony ; The dromydare, the slander elephant; The wyly fox, the wedowis enemy ; The clymbare gayte, tlie elk for arblasfrye^ ; The herkner boav'', the holsom grey for sportis, The haire also that oft gootli to the hortis. ' a pleasant sound mingled with harmonj'. '-^ jacinth, ^ the sluggish ass, beast of jiaiiiful drudgery. * warlike. * ivory. " the strings of the arblast or cross-bow, were probablj formed out of the tough sinews of the elk. ^ heiknere boar — probably hcurkcniny boar. It is the habit of the buffalo to listen for the breath of any person extended, on the ground before attacking him, so as to ascertain whether he be a living being. The same propensity, in all JAMES THE FIRST. 65 Thus slightly modernised : The lion kinij and his fierce lioness ; The panther spotted like the smaragdine ; The tiny squirrel, full ot" business ; The patient ass that drudgeth still in pine ; The cunning ape ; the warlike porcupine ; The fire-eyed Ij'nx ; the stately unicorn, That voideth venom from his ivory horn. There saw I rouse, fresh-wakening from his haunt, The brindled tiger, full of felony; The dromedare and giant elephant ; The wily fox, the widow's enemy ; The elk, with sinews fit for arblastrye; The climbing goat, and eke the tusked boar, And timid hare that flies the hounds before. These stanzas are, as it will be seen, scarcely altered from the original ; and it would be diffi- cult, in any part of Chaucer or Spenser, to dis- cover comprised in so small a compass so pic- turesque and characteristic a description of th3 tenants of tlie forest. Being guided by Good Hope to the goddess Fortune, he finds her sitting beside her wheel, clothed in a parti-coloured petticoat and ermine tippet, and alternately smiling and frowning, as it became so capricious a lady. The meeting and the parting with her are described in such a man- ner as rather to excite ludicrous ideas than any feelings befitting the solemnity of the vision. She inquires into his story, rallies him on his pale and probability, belongs to the wild boar. I remember hearing that the late Dr. Jl. saved himstlf from the attack of a wild boar, when botanising in a German forest, by resolutely keeping himself quite motionless till tlie creature, tired of snutiing and walking round him, went off'. I have extracted the above ingenious conjecture from the letter of a literary friend. VOL. III. F 66 JAMES THE FIRST. wretched looks ; and when he pleads his love and despair, places him upon the wheel, warning him to hold fast there for half an hour. She then bids him farewell, assures him that he will be fortunate m his love, and in departing gives him a shake, not by the hand, but by the ear ; the prince now suddenly awakes, and pours out this beautiful address to his soul : — Oh besy ghoste I ay flickering to and fro, That never art in quiet nor in rest Till thou come to that place that thou come fro, Which is thy first and very proper nest ; From day to day so sore here art thou drest, That with thy flesch a}^ waking art in trouble, And sleeping eke, of pyne so hast thou double. Walking to his prison window in much per- plexity and discomfort, he finds himself unable to ascertain to what strange and dreamy region his spirit had wandered, and anxiously wishes he might have some token whether the vision was of that heavenly kind to whose anticipations he might give credit — Is it some dream, by wandering fancy given, Or may I deem it, sooth, a vision sent from heaven. At this moment he hears the fluttering of wings, and a milk-white dove flies into his window. She alights upon his hand, bearing in her bill a stalk of giiliflowers, on the leaves of which, in golden letters, is written the glad news, that it is decreed he is to be happy and successful in his love : — This fair bird rycht into her bill gan hold, Of red jerroHeris, with stalkis greno, A fair brauche, quhairin written was with gold. On every lefe with letters bryclit and sheue, la compas fair, full plesaudly to seue, JAMKS THK FIRST. 67} A plane sentence, which, as I can devise, , And have in mind, said rycht upon this wise : Awake, awake, I bring, lufar, I bring The newis glad that blissful bene and sure Of thy comfort ; now laugh, and play, and sing, Tliat art beside so glad an aventure, For in the heav'n decretit is thy cure, And unto me the flowers did present ; With wyngis spread, her ways furth then she went. How easy do these sweet verses, with scarce any alteration, throw themselves into a modern dress ! This lovely bird within her bill did hold, Of ruddy gilliflowers, with stalkis green, A branch, whereon was writ, in words of gold, Pourtray'd most plain, with letters bright and sheen, A scroll, that to my heart sweet comfort told ; For wheresoe'er on it 1 cast mine eyes, This hopeful sentence did before me rise : Awake, awake, I, lover, to thee bring Most gladsome news, that blissful are and sure ; Awake to joy — now laugh and play and sing. Full soon shalt thou achieve thine adventure, For heav'n thee favours, and decrees thy cure ! So with meek gesture did she drop the flowers, Then spread her milk-white wings, and sought her airy bowers. From these extracts the reader may have some idea of the ' King's Quhair,' the principal work of James I. That it is faultless, nothing but a blinded enthusiasm would aflirm ; but whatever may be its defects, it is certainly not inferior in fancy, ele- gance of diction, and tender delicacy of feeling to any similar work of the same period, produced either in England or in his own country. It has been already remarked that its blemishes are those f2 68 JAMES THE FIRST. rather of the age than of the poet. The rage for allegorical poetry, at best a most insipid inven- tion, was then at its height. It began with the great models of Greece and Rome, although their taste taught them to use it sparingly ; it was adopted by the monks of the middle age, was fos- tered by Chaucer, revelled in the luxuriant fancy of Spenser, and even lingered in the polished ele- gance of Pope. Strange that these great geniuses should not have felt, what is now acknowledged by almost every reader, that even in those parts where they have produced the highest effect, it is the poetry, not the allegory, that pleases. Another defect in the poem results from the sin- gular, and almost profane mixture of classical mythology and Christian agency ; but for this, too, James has to plead the prevailing taste of the times, and we can even find an approximation to it in Milton. The poem of which we have been speaking is of that serious and plaintive character which neces- sarily excluded one characteristic feature of the author's genius, his humour. For this we must look to his lesser productions, ' Christ's Kirk on the Green,' and ' Peebles at the Play.' With regard to the first of these excellent pieces of satirical and humorous poetry, some controversy has been raised by antiquarian research, whether it be the genuine production of the first James ; Gibson, Tanner, and the Editor of Douglas's Virgil ascrib- ing it to James V. The absurdity of this hypo- thesis, however, was very clearly exposed by the excellent author of a ' Dissertation on the Life of James the First;' and from this time the learned JAMES THE FIRST. 69 world have invariably adopted his opinion, that both poems are the composition of this monarch. In ' Christ's Kirk on the Green,' the king ap- pears to have had two objects in view: not only to give a popular, faithful, and humorous picture of those scenes of revelry and rustic enjoyment which took place at this annual fair or wake, but in his descriptions of the awkwardness of the Scot- tish archers, to employ his wit and ridicule as the means of encouraging amongst his subjects a dis- position to emulate the skill of the English in the use of the long bow. He had, as we have seen, made archery the subject of repeated statutory provisions, insisting that from twelve years of age every person should busk or equip himself as an archer, and practise sliooting at the bow-marks erected beside the parish churches ; and his poem of Christ's Kirk is almost one continued satire upon the awkward management of the bow, and the neglect into which archery had then fallen in Scotland. To make his subjects sensible of the disgrace they incurred by their ignorance of the use of their arms, and to re-establish the disci- pline of the bow amongst them, were objects worthy the care of this wise and warlike mo- narch.* The poem opens with great spirit, paint- ing, in a gay and lively measure, the Hocking of country lads and lasses, wowers and Kilties, to the play or weaponschawing at Christ's Kirk on the Cxreen, a village of tiiis name traditionally re- })orted to have been situated in the parish of Ken- nethmont in Aberdeenshire : — * Tytler's Dissertation on the Life of James I., p. -10. 70 JAMES THE FIRST. Wes never in Scotland hard nor sene Sic dansing nor deray ', t Nouthir at Falkland on the Greue ^, Nor Pcblisatthe Play^ As was of wowers '' as I wene At Christ 's Kirk on a day ; There came our Kitties*, weshen clene, In their new kirtles gray, Fidl gay At Christ Kirk of the Grene that day. To dans thir damysells thame dicht^, Thir lasses licht of laitis '; Thair gluvis war of the rafiel richt®, Thair shone wer of the straits, Thair kirtillis wer of the lincome licht % Weill jirest with mony plaits ; They were so nyss when men thaim nicht '", They squeilt like ony gaitis, Sa loud At Christ's Kirk of the Grene that day. ! From tlie colloquial antiquity of the language, and the breadth and occasional coarseness of the native humour which runs through this production, it is impossible to present the English reader, as we have attempted in the 'King's Quhair,' with any- thing like a translation. The picture of the scorn of a rural beauty, the red-cheeked, jimp, or nar- row-waisted Gillie, is admirably given : ' merriment. ^ palace of Falkland, in Fifeshire. ^ an ancient town in Tweedale, where annual games were held. * -wowers — suitors. * country lasses or girls. ^ dressed. ^ frolicksome in their manners. ^ gloves of the roe-deer skin. ' gowns of Lincoln manufacture, '" thaim nicht — came near them. JAMES THE FIRST. Tl Scho' scornlt Jok, and scrapit at him ', And murgeonit^ him with mokkis ; He wald haif luvit, scho wald not lat him, For all his zellow locks ; He cherish'd hir, scho bad gae chat him^, Scho compt him not twa clokkis *, Sae schamefuUy his schort goun set him, His lymmis were like twa rokkis, Scho said, At Christ's Kirk on the Grene that day. The attempts of the different archers, and the ludicrous failure with which they are invariably- accompanied, are next described with great force and happiness of humour. Lourie's essay with the long-bow is perhaps the best : — Thau Lourie as ane lyon lap, And soneane flane gan fedder'j He hecht^ to perss him at the pap, Thereon to wed a wedder^. He hit him on the wamo a vvap, It buft like ony bledder*. But sa his fortune was and hap, His doublet was of ledder ', And saifit him At Christ's Kirk on the Grene that day. The huff sa boisterously ahaift'" him, He to the eard duisht down " ; The uther man fur dcid then left him, And fled out o' the tonne, ' mocked him. 2 made mouths at him. * go to the gallows. * she valued him not the wortli of two beetles. * soon feathered an arrow. * meant. ' to wager or pledge a sheep. * a wap on the wame — a blow on the belly — making a so\nul like a bladder. ^ leather. »» stunned lum. " fell suddenly down. 72 JAMES THE FIRST. The wyves cam furth, and up they heft him, And fand lyfe in the loun ', Then with three routtis^ up thai reft him. And curd him of his soune, Fra hand that day', At Christ's Kirk of the Grene, &c. ' Peebles at the Play ' partakes miicli of the same character as ' Christ's Kirk on the Green,' j^resenting a highly humorous picture of the inci- dents occurring at a Scottish fair and weaponschaw- ing held near that ancient town. ' The anniver- sary games or plays at Peebles,' says the same able critic whose "Dissertation" we have already quoted, ' are of so high antiquity, that at this day it is only from tradition, joined to a few re- mains of antiquity, we can form any conjecture of the age of their institution, or even trace the ves- tiges what these games were . . . .That this town, situated on the banks of the Tweed, in a pastoral country, abounding with game, was much resorted to by our ancient Scottish ju'inces is certain : King Alexander III. is said to have had a hunting- seat here : the place where it stood is still pointed out. We are told by Boetius that the monastery of Cross Church, now in ruins, was built by that prince, and anciently our monarchs occasionally took up their residence in religious houses. Con- tiguous to it is a ])iece of ground, of old surrounded by walls, and still called the King's Orchard; and on the opposite side of the river is the King's Green. The plays were probably the golf, a game peculiar to the Scots, football, and shooting for prizes with bow and arrow. The shooting butts * found hfe in the rogue. * loud bellowings, * instantly. JAMES THE First. 73 still remain ; and an ancient silver prize-arrow, with several old medallions appended to it, is, as I am informed, still preserved in the tuwn-house of Peebles.' * Our limits will only permit us to give some of the opening stanzas : — At Bt'ltaiie ' when each body bownis To Peblis at the Play, To hear the singing and the sownis, The solace, sooih to say, By filth and forest, furth they found, They grathit^ them full gay ; God wot ' that would they do that stound,' For it was their feast-day, The J' said, OfPeblistothePlay. All the wenches of the West Were up ere the cock crew, For reeling there might no man rest For garay^ and for glow *. One said my curches are not prest, Then answered Meg, full blue, To get a hood I hold it best, I wow hot that is true, Quoth she, Of Peblis to tlie Play. Hope, Cayley, and Cardronow *, Gatherd out thick fold, With heigh-ho w-rumbelow, The young fools were fidl bold ; The bag-pipe blew, and they outthrew Out of the towns luitold ; Lord such a shout was tbein among, When they were o'er the wold. There west, To Peblis at the Play. * Dissertation on the Life of James T. ' Beltane, an ancient festival on the 1st of May. * clothed themselves. ^ preparation. ■• glee, * the names of villages en the Tweed. 74 JAMES THE FIRST. The late Mr. George Chalmers, in his little work entitled the ' Poetic Remains of the Scottish Kings,' has, without assigning any sufficient reasons, reverted to the exploded theory of Tan- ner and Gibson, and printed 'Christ's Kirk on the Green,' amongst the productions of James V. He has also hazarded an assertion, which is com- pletely contradicted by the intrinsic evidence of the work itself. ' He wrote his " Quhair," (says he,) when he was yet a prisoner, and while he was young. Had he read the 6th stanza of the second canto, or the epilogue, he would have found that in the one, he speaks of his captivity or detention in England having endured for eighteen years ; and in the other, commemorates in strains of high enthusiasm, his happiness subsequent to liis mar- riage ; a certain proof that the poem was not completed till after his union with Johanna Beau- fort, and his return to his own dominions. This monarch, however, in addition to his poeti- cal powers, was a person of almost universal ac- complishment. He sang beautifully, and not only accompanied himself upon the harp and the organ, but composed various airs and pieces of sacred music, in which there was to be recognized the same original and inventive genius which dis- tinguished him in everything to which he applied Lis mind. It cannot be doubted, says Mr. Tytler, in his ' Dissertation on Scottish Music,' that under such a genius in poetry and music as James I., the national music must have greatly improved. One great step towards this was, the introduction of organs by this prince, into the cathedrals and abbeys in Scotland ; and, of course, the establish- JAMES THE FIRST. 75 ment of a choral service of church music. The testimony of Tassoni is still more remarkable : ♦ We may reckon among us moderns,' says he, in his 'Pensiera Diversi,' lib. 10, 'James, King of Scotland, vvlio not only composed many sacred pieces of vocal music, but also of himself invented a new kind of music, plaintive and melancholy, different from all other ; in which he has been imitated by Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa, wlio, in our age, has improved music with new and admirable inventions.' ROBERT HENRYSOUN. It says little for the gratitude of Scotland, that of some of her sweetest poets, whose works liave been admired and sought after by future times, little is known but the name. Their life is a mere blank ; they have spent it in some remote province, unacknowledged and almost unseen by the world ; struggling, perhaps, against the attack of poverty and the iniquity of fortune ; yet, nursing amidst this neglect, a mind of su- perior powers — finding a solace in the cultivation of their intellect and the exercise of their genius which lias more than rej)aid them ; and from a full, and sometimes a weeping heart, pouring out strains which were destined to be as imperishable as the language and literature of the country. Such has been the fate of Robert Henryson, of whom the following passage in Urry, the editor of ♦ Chaucer,' contains almost the sum of our know- ledge : — • The author of the " Testament of Cre- seide," which might pass for the sixth book of this story, I have been informed by Sir James Erskine, late Earl of Kelly, and divers aged scholars of the Scottish nation, was one Mr. Robert Ilcnryson, chief schoolmaster of Dum- ROBERT HENRYSOUN. 77 fermline, a little time before Chaucer was first printed, and dedicated to Henry VIII., by Mr. Thynne, which was near the end of his reign. Mr. Henryson wittily observing, that Chaucer, in his fifth book, had related the death of Troilus, but made no mention what became of Creseide, — learnedly takes upon him, in a fine poetical way, to express the punishment and end due to a false inconstant woman, which commonly terminates in extreme misery *.' It has been supposed by Lord Hailes, that Henryson officiated as preceptor in the Bene- dictine Convent at Dumfermline ; but as the idea is solely founded on the lines of Dunbar, in his * Complaint on the Death of the Makars,' which simply state that gude ]\Ir. Robert Henrysoun died in that ancient burgh, nothing can be more vague and inconclusive, ^^'e know not the exact period of his birth, (which must have been under the reign of James II.,) tlie time of his death is involved in equal obscurity ; and the intermediate period must be abandoned to those whose in- genuity is delighted with wandering in the la- byrinths of conjectural biography. But of the works of this remarkable man it is difficult, when we consider the period in which they were written, to s])eak in terms of too warm encomium. In strength, and sometimes even in sublimity of painting, in pathos and sweetness, in the variety and beauty of his pictures of natural scenery, in the vein of quiet and playful humour which runs through many of liis pieces, and in that fine natural taste, whicli, rejecting the faults * Urry's Chaucer. 78 ROBERT HENRYSOUN. of his age, lias dared to think for itself, — he is altogether excellent ; and did the limits of these sketches permit, it would be easy to justify this high praise by examples. Where, for instance, could we meet, even in the works of Chaucer or Spenser, with a finer personification than this early poet has given us of Saturn, sitting shivering in his cold and distant sphere, his matted locks fall- ing down his shoulders, glittering and fretted with hoar frosts; the wind whistling through his grey and weather-beaten garments, and a sheaf of arrows, feathered with ice and headed with hail- stones, stuck under his girdle ? His face frouned, his lere ' was like the lede, His teeth chattered and shivered with the chin, His eyin droujiid,* whole sonkiii in his hede; Out at his nose the mildrop fast gan rin, With lippis blew, and chekis lene and thin; The icicles that fro his heer doime honge, Were wonder grete, and as a speer was longe. Attour his helte his 13'art lokkis' laie Feltrid * mifair or fret with frostis hore, His garment and his gite^ full gay of graie, His withered wede iro him the winde out wore j A bousteaus bow within his hande he bure ; Under his girdle a fasche of felon flains Fedrid'' with ice, and headed with holstains. Let us turn now for a moment from this wintry picture, and observe with what a fresh and glow- ing pencil, with what an ease and gracefulness of execution, tlie same hand can bring before us a summer landscape : — ' flesh or skin. ^ droped. '^ hoary. "• matted. * fashion of his clothing. ^ feathered. ROBERT HENRYSOUNi 79 In middis of Jmie, that joly swete sessoun, Quheii that fair Phoebus with his heamis brycht Had dryit up the dew fra daill and down, And all the land maid with his lemyss ' lycht, In a moriiinjj;, between midday and nycht, I rais and put all sloth and sleep aside, Ontill a wod I went alone, but gyd '^. Sweet was the smell of flouris quhyt and reid. The nois of birdis lycht delitious, The bewis brod blumyt abone my heid, The (rrund growand with grasses gratious, Of all plesans that place was plenteous With sweit odours and birdis armouie, The morning myld, my mirth was mair forthy. The roses red arrayit, the rone and ryss ■', The primrose and tbe purpure viola ; To heir, it was a point of paradyss, Sic mirth, the mavis and the merle couth ma* ; The blossomyss blyth brak up on bank and bra *, The smell of herbis, and of foidis the cry. Contending quha suld have the victory. Henryson's greatest work is that to which we have already alluded, the completion of Chaucer's beautiful poem of Troilus and Cressida, in a strain of poetry not imworthy of the original. ' Henryson,' says Mr. Godwin, in his " Life of Chaucer," perceived what was defective in the close of the story of Troilus and Creseide, as Chaucer had left it. The inconstant and un- feeling Creseide, as she appears in the last book, is the just object of aversion, and no reader can be satisfied that Troilus, the loyal and heroic lover, should suffer all the consequences of her crime, whilst she escapes with impunity. The ^ beams. * without guide. 3 the brambles and bushes. ■• ma'ce. * a hill side. 80 ROBERT HENRYSOUN. poem of Henryson,' he continues, ' has a degree of merit calculated to make us resrret that it is not a performance standing by itself, instead of thus serving merely as an appendage to the work of another. The author has conceived, in a very poetical manner, his description of the season in which lie supposes himself to have written this dolorous tragedy. The sun was in Aries — his setting was ushered in with furious storms of hail, the cold was biting and intense, and the poet sat in a little solitary building, which he calls his oratoure. The evening star had just risen.' A (loly seascHi for a careful dite * Suld correspond and be equivalent ; Richt so it was when I bej^an to write This tragedy ; the weather right fervent, Whan Aries in middis of the Lent, Shouris of haile gan fro the north descende, That scantly from the cold I mighteu me defende. Yet neerthelesse within mine oratoure I stode, whan Titan had his bemis brjxht Withdrawin doun, and seylid under cure% And faire Venus the beaute of the night Upraise, and sette unto the weste full right. Her golden face, in oppositioun Of God Phoebus, directe disceuding down. Throughout the glasse her bemis brast ' so faire, That I might see on every side me by ; The northern winde had purified the aire, And shedde his misty cloudis fro the skie; The freste fresid, tlie l)lasfs bitterly From Pole Arcticke came whisking loud and shrill, And caused me remove agenst my will. ' a sad season for a melancholy story. * unknown. ^ pierced. ROBERT HENRYSOUri. 81 For I trusted, that Venus, lovers Queue, To whom sometime 1 hight obf dieuce, My faded heart of love she wad make grene ; And thereupon, with humble reverence, I thought to praie her hie magnificence. But for grete cold as then I lettid was, 1 in my chambre to the tire gan pass. Though love be hote, yet in a man of age It kindlith not so sone as in youthheid, Of whom the hlode is flowinij ni a ra- small brushwood. 154 GAVIN DOUGLAS. Eicht hailsum ' wes the sessoun ^ of the yeir Phoebus furth j-et depured bemis cleir, Maist nutritive till all thini^^s vegetant; God Eohis of wind durst nocht appeir ; Kor auld Saturne, with his mortal speir And bad aspect — contrair till every plant, Neptanus n'old* within that palice hant ; The bereall stremis •* rynnand men mich heir ; By bonkes^ grene with glancis variant. It will be instantly perceived by the reatler that the language in these verses is more obscure and latinized, and the rhythm less melodious than in the earlier poetry of Dunbar ; yet if we attend to the rules given by Mr. Tyrwhitt for the ])roper reading of Chaucer, and make allowance for a little learned affectation in the idiom, the descrip- tion will be found both liarmonious and poetical. To cast it into a modern dress is not so easy, however, as in the case of Dunbar. Let us at- tempt it : — In broider'd beds unnumber'd flowers were seen, Of Nature's couch the living tapestry ; And, hid within their leafy curtains green," Tlie little birds pour'd forth such harmony, As fill'd my verj' heart with joy and glee ; A flood of music followed, wave on wave, ^Vhich Echo answered from her airy cave ; And sprinkled o'er the laurels blooming near, The silver dew-drops shone, like diamonds bright and. clear. Whilst in this paradise my senses fed,'' And filled mj' heart with every rich ilelight, Up from the sea Eous raised liis head, I mean the horse to whose aetherial might Is given to draw the golden chariot bright ^ wholesome. * season. ^ dar'd not. * streams. * green banks. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 155 Of Titan — which by night looks dark and dead, But chaiis^t'th in the morn t-i ridiy red ; Whilst birds, and fields, and fiowers.on holm and hight , New life assume in glittering vests hedight. The daisy sweet, the marigold and rose, That all the night their silken buds did close, Lest icy rimes their tender twigs should sear, Expanded fragrant ; and, as Titan rose, Each ancient tree his greeny glories shows. Emerging joyous from the darkness drear, All living things the kindly warmth did cheer ; The idle grasshoppers both chirpt and play'd. The sweet laborious bees melodious music made. Delightful was the season. May's first hour, The glorious sun uprising in his power, B.ithed with a kindly heat all growing things, Nor boisterous Eolus, with blast and shower. Nor Saturn, with his aspect sad and sour, Dar'd in that place unfurl his icy wings, But sweet Favonius thither fragrance brings, And little streams, half-hid in moss, do run, IMakiiig a pleasant chime, and glancing in the sun. Encircled with these varied delight?, tlie poet desires anxiously to pour forth a strain worthy of the occasion, to Nature queen, and eke to lusty May ; when, for what reason he fails to inform us, his faculties become weak, and he is seized with a trembling which incapacitates him — With spreit anaisit, and every wit away, Quaking for fear both pulse and vein and nervis. Upon this he very sensiblv determines to go home, but is suddenly arrested on his road by an extraordinary incident, whicb he thus describes:— Out of the air cam ane imiiressioun, Tlirou quhais licht in extacie or sonn 156 GAVm DOUGLAS. Amid the virgultis, all iiitill a fary ', As feminine so feblet fell I down ; And with that gleme sa desyit was my micht, Quliell thair remanet nouther voice nor sicht, Breith, motion, nor heiring naturall ; Saw never man so faint a levand- wieht; And na ferly^, for ouer excelland lieht Corruptes the wit, and garris'' the blude availl, Until the hart thocht* it na danger aill. Quhen it is smorit, memberis wirkis^ nocht richt. The dreidful terrour swa did me assaill. Yet at the last, I n't how long a space, A lytte lieit^ appeirit in my face, Quhilk^ had tofoir bene paill and voide of blude: Tho in my sueven^ I met a feily "^ cace ;— I thocht me set within a desert place, Amidst a forest by a hideous flude, With gr}'sly fische ; and schortly till conclude, I sail descry ve as God will give me grace, My visioun in rural termis rude. The language liere is so antique and remote from Emjlish, that a translation must be attempt- ed:— Forth from the skies a sudden light did glance. That threw me into extacy or swoon ; Instant I fell in an enchanted trance, And feeble as a woman sunk I down: With that strange gleam, all faded was my might, Silent my voice, and dizzied grew my sight ; Sans motion, breath, or hearing, iranc'd 1 stood, — Was never seen so weak a living wight. Nor was it strange, for such celestial light Confounds the brain, and chases back the blood Unto the sinking heart in ruby Hood : And the faint mumliers of the body, all Refuse to work — when terror doth appal. ^ a faery — an enchanted trance. '^living. ^ no wonder. ■* makes. ^ although. '^ work not right. ^ heat. * which. * swoon. ^" wonderful. GAVIX DOUGLAS. 157 'Twere hard to tell how long the fit did last : At length iny colour came, though sore aghast, And a wild wondrous vision met mine ee ' : Thro a huge forest I did seem to roam, In louelj' gloom far far from mortal home, Fast by the margin of a sullen sea, In whose dead waters griesly fishes be : 'Twas hideous all — yet here I shall essay To tell mine aveutm-e, though rude may be the lay. Finding himself in this doleful region, — (I fol- low Dr. Irving's analysis of the Palace of Ho- nour,) — he begins to complain of the iniquity of Fortune ; but his attention is soon attracted by the arrival of a magnificent cavalcade ' of ladies fair and guidlie men,' who pass before him in bright and glorious procession. Having gone by, two caitiffs approach, one mounted on an ass, the other,. on a hideous horse, who are discovered to be the arch-traitors Sinon and Achituphel. From Sinon the poet learns that the brilliant assembly whom he has just beheld is the court of Minerva, who are journeying through this wild solitude to the palace of Honor. He not unnaturally asks how such villains were permitted to attend upon the goddess, and receives for answer, that they apjiear there on the same principle that we sometimes find thunder and tornadoes intruding themselves into Uie lovely and placid month of May. The merry horns of hunters are now heard in the wood, and a lovely goddess is seen surrounded by buskined nymphs, mounted upon an elephant, cheering on her hounds after an unhai)i)y stag, who proves to be Actceon, ])ursued by Diana and his own dogs. Melodious music succeeds to this stirring scene, ^ eye. 15S GAVIX DOUGLAS. and tlirougli an opening in the forest the court of Yenus approaches, shedding a transcendent bright- ness over the groves, and composed of every hero and heroine of classical and romantic story. The description of Mars upon his barded courser ' stout and bald' is noble; — Everie invasablll wapon ^ on him he bair ; His hiik" wes grym, his bodie larj^e and squair, His Ijmmis weill entailjiet ' to be Strang, His neck was grit a span breadth weill or mair, His visage bald ■* with crisp broun curland hair ; Of stature not ouir grit nor yet oiiir lang, Behaldand* Venus Oh ye, my lufe, he sang: And scho again with dalliance sa fair, Her knycht hym cleipis* quhair sa he ride or gang. Thus modernized : The mighty Mars a barded courser bore, Grim was his look, his body large and square, His sinewy neck in breadth a span or more, Eound which did shortly curl bis crisp brown hair ; His limbs well-knit, and of proportion fair, Were clothed in panoply of radiant steel. On Venus still he gaz'd with amorous air, And she her knight him call'd in woe or weal, Whilst o'er his noble form her love-lit glances steal. This brave apparition is scarcely past, when it is succeeded by the court of Minerva, composed of ' wise, eloquent fathers, and pleasant kdies of fresli beauty,' all of them directing their course to the Palace of Honour, and cheering the tedium of the journey by rehearsing Greek and Latin his- tories, and chaunting to their lyre Sajiphic and Elegiac Odes. We regret it is impossible to ^ invulnerable weapon. ^ look. ^ well knit. '* bold. * beholding, ^ calls. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 159 follow them in their progress ; but some of the insulated pictures are beautiful. The poet mounts a gallant steed, caparisoned with woodbine ; and, under the guidance of a sweet nymph to whom he had been introduced by Calliope, he takes his joyous way with the Muses, and at length arrives at the Castalian fount : — Beside that cristall weill ^ swett and dip;ist °, Thame to repois, their hors refresch and rest ; Ahchtit-^ douu thir Musis cleir of hue. The companie all liaillelie lest and best, Thrang to the well to drink, quhilk ■* ran south-west, Throut ane meid whair alkiu ^ flouris grew Amang the laif^ full fast I did persew To drink ; bot sa the great press me opprest, That of the water I micht not taste eeu a drew ^. Our horsis pasturit^ in ane plesaud plane. Law at the fiite of ane fair greeue montaiue, Amid ane muid schaddowit with cedar trees ; Saif fra all heit, thair micht we weill remain. All kind of herbis, flouris, frute, and greine, With everie growaud tree thair men micht clieis'. The boeriall streams, rinnand ouir stauerie greis, Made sober noyis ; the schaw dinnit '" agane, For birdis sang, and sounding of the beis. The ladies fair on divers instrumentes Went pla}'and, siugand, dansand ouir the bentis'^ ; Full angellik and hevenlie was thair souu. Quhat creature amid his hart imprintis The fresche beautie, the gudelie representis. The merrie speeche, fair haveing, hie renoun, Of thame, wad sit a wise man lialf in swoun ; Their womanlines, myithit the elementis'-, Stoneist the heviu, and all the eirth adoun. ^ well. ^ wholesome. ' alighted. * which. 5 all kind. " crowd. ^ drop. '^ pastured. " choose. ^^ resounded. *^ fields. ^^ charmed the elements. 160 GAVIN DOUGLAS. The warld may not consider nor descrive^ The hevinlie joj^, the bliss I saw belive ; Sa ineffable above my wit, sa hie, I will na mair thairon my forehead rive Bot briefly forth my febill process drive; — Law in the meid ane palyeon picht^ I see, Maist gudeliest, and richest that micht be : My governour aftncr than tymis five Unto that hald to pass commandit me. I attempt a free translation of these fine stanzas, as the language is so obscure: — Beside that fount, with clearest crystal blest, Alighted down the Muses bright of hue, Themselves to solace and their steeds to rest ; And all their followers ou the instant drew To taste the stream, which sparkling leapt to vicw^ Thro' freshest meads with laurel canopied. Then trembling to the well renown'd I flew, But the rude crowd all passage there defied, Nor might 1 snatch a drop of that celestial tide, Our horses pastured in a pleasant field. Verdant and rich, beneath a mountain green, ■yVhere, from the mid-day heat a siiade to yield, Some ancient cedars wove a leafy screen ; On the bmooth turf unnumbered flowers were seen Weaving a carpet 'neath umbrageous trees. And o'er their channels, pav'd with jewels sheen, The waters gliding did the senses please, ^Mingling their quiet tunes with hum of honied bees. On many an instnunent of breath or string These gentle ladies play'd or playing sung ; Some sat beneath the trees in lovely ring, Some solitary stray'd the flowers among ; Ev'n the rude elements in silence hung, And wooed their music with intense delight ; Whilst from their charms such dazzling rays were flon^,. As utterly amaz'd all mortal sight. And might have thaw'd the heart of sternest anchorite* * describe. ^ a pavilion pitched. GAVIN DOUGLAS). IGl Far (loth it pass all powers of living speech To tell tliL' joy that from theso sights I took ; And if so high the wondrous theme doth reach, How should my vein the great endeavour brook ! AVe may not soar so high, my litile book. But pass we on : — Upon the field I spied, Woven of silk, with golden post and hook, A goodly tent unfold its wings of pride, To whose delightsome porch me drew my lovely guide. Obeying his sweet conductress, Master Gavin enters this rich paviUon, and there sees the Muses sitting on ' deissis,' or elevated seats of distinc- tion, served by familiars with ippocras and mead, and partaking, much in tlie same fashion as mortal ladies, of delicate meats and varied dainties. After the feast, Calliope commands Ovid, wliom she quaintly calls her " Clerk Register,'' to recreate tliem with a song ; and this favoured minstrel chaunts the deeds of the heroes of ancient days, not forgetting a digression upon transfigurations and the art and remedy of love. He is followed by other eminent bards ; but the enumeration forms rather a ludicrous calalotrue than a charac- teristic or animated picture. It is wound up by Poggius, who stood, a groaning, girning fallow, SpiUing, and cryand Fy, on great Laurentius Valla. The trumpet now sounds to horse, and the Muses, with their whole attendants and followers, throwing themselves on their steeds, gallop on at a goodly pace till they reach a charming vallev, "wherein a mighty rock is seen, which we innne- diately discover to be some sacred and glorious place, for tlie moment it is descried the whole assembly bow their heads and give thanks that they are permitted to bcliolJ the end of tlieir journey. VOL,. III. M 162 GAVIX DOUGLAS. It is here that tlie allegory, in its profane ad- mixture of the Pagan mythology with the Chris- tian system, becomes unnatural and painful. We find that the palace built upon this rock is in- tended to shadow forth the bliss of heaven ; and that under the word Honour, which, to our modern ears, conveys a very different idea, we are to understand that heavenly honour and dis- tinction to which the Christian aspires. This being the case, why does the explanation of such mysteries proceed from the lips of a Pagan god- dess ? — and what has Venus, the most meretri- cious, though sometimes the most elegant, of classical personifications, to do with that sacred and blessed system, that " state of grace," as the poet himself ^denominates it, which ought ever to be kej)t pure and undefiled, as the heavenly source from which it has proceeded ? ^Vith how much fmer taste and holier feeling has a later poet, but he, indeed, " the miglitiest master of the Christian lyre," described the desertion of the Pagan shrines, the silence of the oracles, the terror of the priests and flamens, and the passing away of the dark and unholy mysteries wliich constituted the system of heathen worslii]), at the birth of our Redeemer : The oracles are dumb, No voice or liideous hum Ruus thiouirli ihe arched root' in words deceivinir. AjioUo troia his .shrine C.'an no uiore divine, "With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leavin;j. No nightly trance, or l)reailied spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. GAVIX DOUGLAS. 1G3 The lonely mountains o'er, And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; From haunted spring, and dale Edged with poplar pale, The parting Genius is with sighing sent : 'With Hower-inwoven tresses torn. The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. In consecrated earth, And on the holy hearth, The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the flamens at their service quaint ; And the chill marlde seems to sweat, ^Vlulo each peculiar power foregoes his wonted seat. Peor and Baalim Forsake their temples dim, "With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine ; And mooned Ashtaroth, Heaven's queen and mother both, Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ; The Lybic Hammon shrinks his horn. In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz motn-n.* The Bishop of Dunkeld would, prol)ably, have rested his defence, as his encomiasts may still be inclined to do, upon the plea, that the Palace of Honour is a vision or dream; that dreams are remarkable for their wild transitions, confined within no rules of waking realities, and becoming only the more natural as they assume more mixed, multiform, and extravagant phases. All this is true ; but tliere is little in the defence which can excuse the no doubt unintentional insult oflered to the feelings of a pious reader. W hilst our souls are pent in mortal clay, we niav, * Milton's Ode on the Nativity. M 2 164 GAVIN DOUGLAS. and too often are, visited by dreams, which ouglit not to be written : but we can have no excuse if, when awake, we communicate these extravagant and sinful fancies to others, and insist on writing wliat cannot, without injury, be read. On entering the Palace of Honour, the poet behokls Venus seated on a splendid throne, having before her a magic mirror, supported by three golden trees : Bot straicht before Venus' visaj^e, but let Stude emeiant stages twelve, grene precious greis ', Quliairoii thair grew three curious golden treis. Suitendaiul weill, the goddes face beforne Aiie fair Mirroiu-, be them quaintly upborne. In terrae'd pomp before the Cyprian Queen, Rose twelve bright stages as the emerald green ; Al)ove them wav'd, most glorious to behold, Three wondrous trees with leaves of rustling gold ; And on their stems supported, clear and bright, A magic Mirror stood, and shed miearthly light. This mirror reflects the shadowy train of past ages, the most remarkable events recorded in history float over its surface, — and the poet, of course, beholds an infinite variety of incongru- ous personages ; amongst the ancient warlike worthies, tlie supporters of the authenticity of Ossian will be pleased to discover the mighty Fingal, and Gaul the son of Morni ; Great Gow- n^akmorc, and Fyn Mac Cowl ; and how Thai suld^ be goddis in Ireland, as thai say. It reflects, also, the necromantic tricks of tlie famous Roger Eacon and other astrologers, who are seen diverting themselves by many subtla ' grass. ^ should. = GAVIN DOUGLAS. 165 points of juggling, changing a nutmeg into a monk, and a penny pie into a parish ciiuvch : — The necromanc)- there saw I elie anone, Of Benytas, Buiii^o, and Frier Becone, Witli many subtel point of jugji^lery ; Of Flanders pyes made mony precious stone, Ane great laid saddle of a cliicken bone ; Of a nutmeg they made a monk iu hy ' ; A parish kirk out of ane penny pie: And Benytas of ane mussil made an aj^e, With many other subtle mow and jaip'^- "What connexion these amusements of tlie as- trologers are supposed to liave with tlie Palac(! of Honour, it would be hopeless to inquire. The poet now presses on to an eminence, from whicli he beholds the attempts of tlie multitude to scale its walls, and the disasters with which they are accompanied. Equity stands as warder on the battlements, denouncing vengeance against Envy, Falsehood, and Covetousncss ; Patience officiates as porter, and instantly admits him and his con- ductress. We shall give the description of the palace, and the monarch, King Honour, who in- habits it, in his own words : — Tlie durris and the winders all were brcddit' "With niassie gold, quhairof the fynes scheddit, With burnist i vir'', liailh pallice and touris, War theikit'' weill niaist craftilie that cled it; For St) the nuhilely blanchit bone ourspred it, jMidlit witli golii'', anamalit all colouris, Importurait' with birdis and sweet tlouris; Curious knottis and mony a hie device, Quliilkis" to behald war perfite^ paradyce. ^ haste. '-' cheat. •'' broidered. * ivory. * roofed. •^ inlaid. ^ decorated. " which. '■' perfect. 166 GAVIN DOUGLAS. And to proceed, my iiymphe and I fiirth went Straight to the hall, throwout the palice gent, And ten stages of topaz did ascend ; Schute was the door, in at a boir I blent', Quliair I beheld the gladdest represent That ever on earth a wretched caititf kend. Brielily this process to couclud and end ; Metlioclit the flure was all of amethyst, Bot quhairof war the wallis I not wist. The multitud of precious stainis seii-®, Thairon sa schone, my febell sicht but weir ^ Micht not behald their verteous gudeliness. Por all the riiif * as did to me appear Hung full of plesand, lowped sapphires cleir : Of diamontis and rubeis as 1 ges, War all the burdis ^ maid of maist riches : Of sardanis, of jasji, and smaragd ane, Traists, formes, and benkes, war polist plane. Baith to and fro amid the hall thai went : Royal princes in plait and armoviris quent. Of bernist^ gold couchit with precious stanis ; Enthronit 1 sawe ane king gret and potent, Upon quhais maist bricht visage, as I blent^ In wonderment, be his brichtnes at anis. He smote me doune, and brissit® all my banis' Thair lay I still in swoun with colour blaucht, Quhile at the last my nymphe up hes me caught. Sine with grit paine with womenting'" and cair, In lier armis scho bare me doim the stair, And in the clois fuUsoftlie laid me down; Ujiheld my held to tak the hailsome" air; For of my life scho sttule in gri.it dispair. Me till awak wes stdl that lady boun '", Quhilk Hiuillie out of that deidlie " soun. Iswyitb overcome, and up mine ene did cast, Be nierr)-, man, quoth scho, the worst is past. ' looked in at a window. ^ various. '•' without injury» * rouf. ^ boards. ^ burnislied. ^^ looked. * bruised. ® bones. '"fomenting. " uholesome. ^* that lady was busied — or intent to wake me. '-^ deadly. GAVIN DOUGLAS. Ift7 It will be perceived that the description, al- tliough l)eautiful, is, to the general reader, more thicklv sown with obscure words than the poetry of Dunbar or Henrysoun. This must plead our excuse for attempting to present it in a modern garb. In hij^li relief of rich and massive gold, The borders round the doors and windows shone ; Each tower and turret, beauteous to behold, Of polish'd ivory form'd — ne was there one That dill not show inlaid its walls upon BriL^ht shapes of birds, midst sweet enamell'd flowers. And curious knots, carv'd in the snow-white bone, With matchless cunning by the artist's powers. — So perfect and so pure, were Honor's lordly Ijowers. But ])ass we on — the nymph and I did wend Straight to the hall — and climb'd a radiant stair, Form'd all uf topaz clear — from end to end. — The gate was shut — but through a lattice there Of beryl, gazing, a transcendaut glare Broke dazzlingly on mine astonished sight. — A room I saw — but oh, what tongue shall dare To paint that chamber, so surpassing bright ! Sure never such a view was given to mortal wight. From every part comhin'd, roof, wall, and floor, A flood of light most gloriously was cast ; And as the stream upon mine eyes gan pour, Blinded I stood awhile : that sight surpast Aught that in Eastern story read tluu hast Of richest palace, or of gorgeous stall; On diamond pillars, tall as any mast. Clustering, and bound with ropes of rubies all, The sapphire arches leant of that celestial hall. The very benches, forms, and footstools mean, AVere sbap'd of smaragdinc and precious stone, And on the carpet brillia-it groups were seen Of heroes old, whose steely corslets shone Euibost with jewels ; — near them, on a throne Sat Honor, mighty prince, with look severe, 168 GAVIN DOUGLAS. And deep-set awful eye, whose rrlance alone So full of might and glorious did apjieav, That all ray senses reel'd, and down I dropt with fear. Within her snow\- arms that Lady sweet Me caught, and swiftly to the portal hied, For wing'd with love and pity were her feet, And sol't she hore me to inhale the tide Of the fresh air — she deem'd I woidd have died, So sudden and so deadly pale I grew ; But fondly each reviving art she tried, And hath'd my brow with Heliconian dew, Till, faint and slow, mine eyes imclos'd to meet her view. The vision now liastens to a conclusion. On his recovery, tlie Poet, under tlie protection of lier who has so faithfully conducted him, proposes to visit a delightful garden, wliere the Muses are em- ployed in gathering the choicest flowers of poesy, which spring beneath trees bearing precious stones instead of fruit. In the description of this retreat there is a strange admixture of the beautiful and the ridiculous. The scenery is sweetly jiainted ; but what shall we say of the trees on which geese or chickens are seen growing ; to the transplant- ing of the extraordinary fables of Boece into the gardens of tlie Palace of Honour? Into this gar- den, liowever, in whatever fashion it may be fur- nished, tlie bard himself is not destined to enter. The only access to it lies beyond a moat, across which a tree is thrown. Over this slender and precarious rural bridge, the Nvmph passes with ease; but the Poet, whose head has not yet reco- vered the effects of his swoon, in making the attempt, slips a foot, and is immersed in the stream. Tiiis effectuallv awakens him from the trance into which he had fallen, and restores his GAVIN DOUGLAS. 1G9 senses to the sober realities of a lower sphere. He then, according to poetic use and wont, describes his wondrous vision, and lays it at the feet of his sovereign, James IV. In his interview with Venus in the Palace of Honour, Douglas informs us, that the goddess presented him, as the richest gift she could bestow, with a copy of Virgil's TEneid, commanding him to translate it into his native language — a task, says Dr. Irving, which he has performed with much felicity. ' To pronounce it,' continues this learned critic, ' the best version of this wonderful poem, which ever was or ever will be executed, would be ridiculous ; but it is certainly the pro- duction of a bold and energetic writer, whose knowledge of the language of his original, and command of a rich and variegated phraseology, peculiarly qualified him for the performance of so arduous a task. Indeed, whether we consider the state of British literature at that era, or the ra- pidity with which he completed the work, (it was the labour of but sixteen months,) he will be found entitled to a high degree of admiration. In either of the sister languages, few translations of sacred authors had been attempted ; and the rules of the art were conserpiently little understood. Even in English, no metrical version of a classic had yet appeared, except of Boethius ; who scarcelv merits that appellation. On the destruc- tion of Troy, Caxton had published a species of prose romance, which he professes to liave trans- lated from the French ; and the English reader was taught to consider this motley and ludicrous composition as a version of the /Eneid. Douglas, 170 GAVIN DOUGLAS. however, bestows severe castigation on Caxton, for his presumptuous deviation from classical storv ; and affirms, tliat his work no more resem- bles Virgil than the Devil resembles St. Austin j and yet he has fallen into an error, which he ex- poses in his predecessor, — proper names being often so disfigured in his translation, as only to be recognized with the greatest ditnculty. In many instances too, he has been guilty of the bad taste of modernizing the notions of his original ; con- verting the Sibyl into a nun, and admonishing ^Eneas, the Trojan baron, to be fearful of any neglect in counting his beads. Of the general principle of translation, however, he appears to have formed no inaccurate notion. His version is neither rashly licentious, nor too tamely literal. In affirming that he has invariably rendered one verse by another, Dempster and Lesly betray their ignorance of the work of which they speak ; and JJouglas well knew that such a project would have been wild and nugatory. The verses of Virgil and his translator must commonly differ in length by at least three syllables, and they may even differ by no fewer than seven. Dr. Irving concludes his judicious remarks upon this translation by selecting, as a specimen, the celebrated passage on tlie descent of /Eneas into the infernal regions : — " Facilis descensus Averni, Nodes atquc dies patet atri Janua Ditis. Sed revocaie jrraduin, superasque evadere ad auras — Hue opus, hie labui- est : pauci, (juos aeqiuis amavit J muter, aut ardens evexit ad set hem vutus, Dis geiiiti potuere ; tenent media omnia silvse» Cocylusqiie sinu labeas circunitluit atro." GAVIN DOUGLAS. 171 It is riclit facill and eith ' tiate, I thee tell For to descend, and pass on doun to lifll. The black zettis of Pluto, and that dirk - wa}', Stand evir open and patent nicht and day. But therefra to return agaiae on hicht, And heire above recovir this airis licht, That is difficil werk, thair labour lyis. Full few thair bene quhom hiech above the skyis, Thare ardent vertue has rasit and upheit ', Or zit quhame equale Jupiter deifyit, Thay quhilkis bene geudrit of goddes may thydder attane, All the mydway is wildernes unplane, Or wilsum forest ; and the laithlie'' flude, Cocytus, with liis drery bosom unrude, Flows environ round about that place. Perhaps a happier specimen of this remarkable work of DoujTlas is to be found in tbe translation of that ex(juisite passat^e in the sixth book, in which vEneas and tlie Sibyl arrive at the Elvsiau Fields : * His demum exactis, pcrfecto munere divae, Devenere locos laetos et amcEna vireta, Fortunatonim nemorum sedesqiie beatas. Largior hie campos sethc-r, et lumine vestit Purpureo, sulemque suum sua sideia norunt. Pars in gramineis exercent membra paUcstris, Contendimt hido, et fidva luctantur arena ; Pars pi'dibus jilaudunt choreas, et carmina dicunt. Nee non Threicius longa cum veste sacerdos Obk'ctat numeris septem discrimina viicum, Jamque eadem digiiis, jam pectiiie pulsat eburuo.' The golden branclie he sticks up fair and wele, This beand done at last ; and every dele Prefuruist*, langiug" the goddyss gift gay, Unto ane plesand grund' cumin ar thay ' easy. * daik. ^ upheld. ■* loathsome. * all things or rites fuliilled. * belonging. '' groiuid. 172 GAVIX DOUGLAS. With battel ^ gers, fresche herbis, and grene swardis, The kisty orchailis, and the halesome" j'ardis Of happy sauhs ^ and wele fortvniale To blissit wichiis the places preparate, Thir fieldis bene largeare"*, and hevinis biycht Revestis thaim with pmpour schyning lycht; The sternes^ for this place convenient Knavvis wele thtir sun, and obseivis his went®. Sum thare amid the gersy 7 planis grene, In to palestral playis thame betvvene : Thare menibris ^ gan exerce, and hand for hand They fall to wershng^ on the golden sand, Assayand honest gammis "* thaym to schorte '', Sum uthir banting'"^ g-m**! ane uther sporte, Als for to dansing, and to hede the rnig To sing ballettis'-' and go in karolling. Thare wes also the priest and menstrale sle '*, Orpheus of Thrace, in syde robe harpand '^ he, Playing proporcions and springs "* divine Apoun his harp, sevin divers soundis fyne^ Kow with gynip '" fvngeris doing stringis smyte, And now viith subtell evorie poyutals lyte'". Douglas commences each book witli a prologue or original introduction, generally descriptive of the season and circumstances under which it was writ- ten. Thus, in the prologue to the seventh book, we have as noble a description of winter as is to be found in the whole range of ancient Scottish poetry. The poet tells us that the sun liad just entered the cloudy sign of Capricorn, and approached so near liis winter stage that his heat perceptibly de- clined — ! ' thick. * wholesome. ^ souls. * larger. ' stars. ^ path. ? grassy. ^ members. ^ wrestling. '" games. " divert. ^- hiuiting. ^^ ballads. ••• skilful. '^ harping. ^^ tunes. '? beautiful and slender. ^^ little. GAVIX DOUGLAS. 173 Altho he be the lamp and heart of hevin ^ Forfeblit wox his leiiiand gilded levin*, Thro tlie declining of his large round sjihere, The frosty regiouu ringis of the zere ^. Everything is melancholy and dreary ; the trees leafless and bare; tlie rivers running red in spate *; the burns or smaller streams, so sweet and quiet in smnmer tide, tearing down their banks ; the surges dashing on the shore with a noise louder than the roar of a chafed lion ; the heavens dark and louring, or, if the sky clears for a moment, only opening to show the wintry constellations, rainy Orion, and the chill, pestilential Saturn, ' Shedding infection from his tresses hoar.' The earth, says the poet, pursuing his fine winter picture, is now barren, hard, and unlovely ; the meadows have put on their brown and withered coats ; Hebe, the beautiful daughter of Juno, hath not even a single flower with which she may adorn herself; and through a cold and leaden atmosphere, the mountain tops are seen capt with snow. As these melancholy images present them- selves, shadowy dreams of age and death steal into the mind — Goustj- schadowis of eild and grisly dede. All living creatures seem to sympathise with the decay of the year. The deer are seen retreat- ing from their high summer ])astures, into the more sheltered valley ; the small l)irds, congregating in flocks, change their pleasant songs into a melan- ^ heaven. ^ flashes of light. ' year. * A stream overflowing its banks from heavy raiuSj is- Baid in Scotland to be in spate. 174 GAVIX DOUGLAS. choly chirm, or low complaining murmur ; the wind, either carrying all before it, tears the forest in its strength, or sinks into a subdued or ominous moaning. The poor husbandmen and labourers, with their slioes covered with clay, and their gar- ments drenched in rain, are seen toiling about the doors ; the little herd-boy, with his silly sheep, creeps under the lee of some sheltered hill-side, whilst the oxen, horses, and ' greater bestial, the tuskit boars, and fat swyne,' comfortably stabled and housed, have the well-stored provender of the harvest thrown down before them. As the night approaches, the sky clears up ; the air, becoming more pure and penetrating, at length settles into an intense frost ; and the poet, after having bekit, or warmed himself at the fire, and armed his body against the piercing air by ' claithis thrynfeld,' threefold happings, retires to rest : — Recreate wele' and by the chimney bekit'. At evin lietime doiin in ane bed me strekit^, ■Waipit my hede, kest on claithis thryni'ald, For to expell the perellous persand canld ••, I crossit me, syne bownid for to slepe \ For some time he is unable to sleep: he watches the moon shedding her rays through his casement ; he hears the owl hooting in her midnight cave, and when she ceases, a strange sound breaks the stillness of the night, — he listens, and recognizes the measured creaking strokes proceeding from the wings of a flock of wild geese, as they glide high in air over the city — an inimitable picture, true to nature, and eminently poetical : — ' well. * warmetl. ' stretched. ■* cold. * sleep. GAVIX DOUGLAS. 175 The horned bird, quhilk' we clepe^ the n3-ch owle, Within her caverne heard I shout and zoule^, Laithely * of forme with crukit camscho* beik, Ugsome® to hear was her wild ehische skreik'^, The wild ^is eke clakin2^ by nychtes tide, Attuur^ the city iieand^, heard I glide. He is at last surprised by sleep, nor does he waken till the cock — Piioebus' crowned bird, the clock of the night — had thrice clapped his wings, and proclaimed the approach of dav. The same truth and excellence which marks the preceding part of the picture, distinguishes this portion : the jackdaws are heard chattering on the roof, the moon is declining near the horizon, the gled or kite, taking her station on the high leafless trees beside the poet's window, whistles with that singular and characteristic note vvliich proclaims the dawn- ing of a winter day ; and having had his hre stirred, and his candle lighted, he rises, dresses himself, and for a moment opens the casement to look out u])on the scene : but it is only for a mo- ment ; the hail-stones hopping on the leads, and the gust of cold and rimy air which sweeps in, admonish him that this is no time for such obser- vation, and quickly closing the lattice, he hurries, shivering with cold, to the fire-side. As he warms himself, the faggots crackle on the heartli, the cheerful blaze lights up his chamber, and glancing from the precious and richly gilded volumes which are ranged in their oaken ])resscs, his eve liuhts upon ' Virgil' lying open upon a reading-desk. He is thus reminded of how much of his task yet J which. ^call. -'yell. •• uirly. * sfern looking. « frijjhtful. 7 shriek. « above. ^ flying. 176 GAVIN DOUGLAS. remains, and addresses himself diligently to his translation. It is difficult to conceive a more pleasing or picturesque description than what is here given. It is distinguished by a minute ob- servation of nature, a power of selection and grouping, rich colouring and clearness of outline, which we invariably trace in the works of a true poet. It has been already remarked, that in his phraseology, Douglas is more obscure than Dun- bar or Henryson. ' The Friars of Berwick,' or, the tale of the ' Landwart Mouse,' may be under- stood by a purely English reader, with compa- rative facility ; wliilst in the ' Palace of Honour,' and still more in the ' Translation of the iEneid,' passages are perpetually recurring which require some study to make out their meaning. We find the explanation of this given by the poet himself. Dunbar represents himself as writing in the English tongue ; but the translator of ' Virgil,' as " kepand na Soudron hot ouir avvin langage." In the time of James V., we know from a curious passage quoted in ' Hailes' Life of John Hamilton,' that to " knapp Sudrone," was con- sidered the mark of a traitor ; and even so late as James VI., Winzet speaks of his being ignorant of " Southeron," and knowing only his proper language, tlie ' auld brade Scottis *." The passage in Douglas above referred to, is interesting in this- point of view : — And yet forsoith I set my besy pane, As that I couth to mak it biade and plane, Kepand no Soudroun, hot our awin langage, * Irving's Lives of the Scottish Poets, vol. i., p. 59^. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 177 And speke as I lerne- 178 GAVIN DOUGLAS. Nor trenscheand swerd, sail defajs ', nor doiin thring, Nor lanp proces of a^je, consumes all thing: Quhen that unkaawin- day sail him address, Qiihilk not but on this body power hes, And ends the date of mine uncertiiin eild ^, The better part of nie shall be upheild'' Above the sternis perpetuallie to riiig^, And here my name remane but® emparing; Throwuut the isle, yclipt'it Albione, Read shall i bee, and sung by many a one. Thus up my pen and instruments full zore^ On Virgil's post I fix for evermore, Kevir from thens sic matters to descrive^: My muse shall now be clene contemplative ' And solitair ; as doth the bird in caige Sen fer by worne, all is my childis aige^"; And of my days near passit the half date, That Nature sold me granting, wele I wate ; Thus sen 1 feile " down sweyand '- the ballance, Here I resign my youngkeris'^ observance, And will direct my labours evermoir''', Unto the Common-welth and goddis gloir '^. Adiew, gude redaris '®, God gif you all gude nycht '^, And, after death, grant us his hevinly lycht'". The life of Douglas now became troubled and eventful. It had before glided on serenely in happy literary enjoyment, undisturbed bv pomp or terror. Its after-course was destined to par- take largely of both. The widowed queen of James IV., who had been deprived of her husband when she was yet in the prime of youth and beauty, fixed her aflec- tions on the Earl of Angus, one of the handsomest ' defeat. * imknown. ^ old age. ■* upheld. * reign. * without. ^ expert. ^ describe. ^ altogether contemplative. '" age. " feel. '^ down inclining. *^ observance of my youth. '* evermore. * glory. '^ good readers. '^ good night. '" light. GAVIX DOUGLAS. 1"C^ noblemen at the court, and nephew to Douglas ; but, from his extreme youth, little calculated to act with prudence under circumstances so flatter- ing to his vanity and ambition. ' To the surprise and regret of all ranks/ says Pinkerton, ' Marga- ret, hardly recovered from the languor of child- birth, suddenly wedded the Earl of Angus — a precipitate step, which was fatal to her ambition, as, by the laws of the country, it terminated her regency. A birth, distinguished by an ancestry of heroes, opulent possessions, a potent vassalry, above all, a person blooming with youth and ele- gance, transported the woman, whilst they ruined the queen *.' 13y tliis imprudent union, Douglas became nearly connected with the royal family; and, as the archbishopric of St. Andrew's was now vacant by the death of Alexander Stewart in the battle of Fiodden, the queen nominated him to the primacy, recommending him, in a letter addressed to Leo X., as ' second to none in learning and virtues.' He accordingly took possession of the archiepiscopal palace, and prepared to enter upon his ecclesiastical functions ; but these were the iron times, in which the bishop often found it a» difficult to preach peacefully in his cathedral as the baron to live quietly in his castle. His right was contested by Hepburn, prior of St. Andrew's, who had been elected by the canons, and Forman, bishop of Moray, a crafty and grasping pluralist, whose wealth and address had procured the pre- sentation from the Pope. Hepburn, at the head * Pinkurlon's History, vol.ii. p. 121. 180 GAVIN DOUGLAS. of a large body of troops, expelled the servants of Douglas, and took possession of the castle ; whilst Forman, acquiring the assistance of Lord Hume, one of the most powerful of the Scottish nobles, first published the papal bull at Edinburgh at the head of an army of ten thousand men, and then marched to St. Andrew's. It says much for Douglas's moderation and love of peace, that he immediately retired from the contest, and left his furious rivals to pursue the stormy courses of their amibition, which concluded by Forman obtaining possession of the primacy. Not long after this the see of Dunkeld, con- sidered at that time as the third in the realm in point of emolument, became vacant, and the queen once more nominated Douglas, who, by the inte- rest of Henry VIII., obtained a papal bull in his favour. The chapter at the same moment, how- ever, had elected Stewart, a brother of the Earl of Athole ; and the postulate bishop, at the head of his clansmen and ketherans, lost no time in taking possession of his new dignity, fortifying the palace and cathedral, stationing parties of armed retainers in the passes where he might be attacked, and de- claring his resolution to be expelled only at the point of the sword. Nay, the persecution of Dou2;las was carried still further: beinfr arraigned under some acts of parliament, which had seldom been carried into effect, of the crime of procuring bulls from Rome, he was found guilty, subjected to a temporary imprisonment, ami committed to the custody of Hepburn, his former rival for tlie primacy. A compromise between the two parties at length took place, and Douglas was consecrated GAVIN DOUGLAS. 781 at Glasgow by Archbishop Beaton. ' Having first visited on his journey the metropolitan city of St. Andrew's, he proceeded from thence to Diin- keld, where all ranks exhibited the utmost delight at his arrival, extolling to the clouds his learninor and virtues, and uttering their thanks to heaven for the gift of so noble and eminent a prelate.' The pope's bull was then proclaimed with the usual solemnities at the high altar, and the bishop re- tired to the house of the dean, where he was splen- didly entertained. There was a very sufficient reason for this, as the servants and soldiers of Stewart still held the episcopal palace and catlie- dral, declaring their determination not to sur- render it till they received their master's orders. Their steel coats were seen glancing on the walls, the cannon pointed from the battlements, and even the steejilehad been transformed into a garrison of troops, so that the new bishop was constrained to perform divine service in the house in which he lodged. Here too he administered the oaths to his canons ; and having afterwards held a solemn consultation with the powerful nobles and gentry by whom he was accompanied, their deliberations were interrupted by a sudden discharge of camion, w hilst news arrived at the same moment that Stewart was on his march to take possession of the bene- fice. Force had now to be opj)()sed to force ; the feudal friends who surrounded Douglas marshalled their retamers ; messengers were sent ofl" to Fife and Angus, and next morning so powerful a rein- forcement arrived, that Stewart retired to the neighbouring woods. The cathedral was then carried by one of Douglas's supporters, and his 182 GAVIN DOUGLAS. opponents, being summoned to capitulate, at last thought it prudent to obey. ' A circumstance,' says Sage, ' very acceptable to the good bishop, who, in all the actions of his life discovered a gentle and merciful disposition, regulating the warlike and heroic spirit that was natural to his family, by the excellent laws of the Christian religion*.' His near relationship to the powerful and tur- bulent Earl of Angus was an unfortunate circum- stance for the prelate, and often involved him in scenes deeply repugnant to his feelings. One of these is worthy of record, as it presents an ex- traordinary picture of the times, and brings out the Christian meekness of Douglas in fine relief to tlie dark and ferocious characters by whom he was surrounded. In 1520 a fection of the nobles, headed by Arran, Argyle, and Huntley, and secretly su])ported by Archbishop Beaton, determined to humble the ])ower of Angus. In April they assembled at Edinburgh in great strength, and holding their rendezvous at the house of the Archbishop, resolved to seize Angus, whose power, they alleged, was too exorbitant for a subject. Apprised of this, the earl commissioned his uncle, the Bishop of Dun- kekl, to confer with his op])0)ients, and if possible to bring matters to an amicable agreement. It was in vain, however, that he addressed himself to barons of turbulent and warlike habits, wiio deemed it an indignity to forgive an injury. Turning, therefon;, to Beaton, he implored him by * Irving's Lives, vol. ii. p. 11. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 183 Jiis sacred character to become the advocate of peace, and to promote a reconciliation between tlie liostile factions. ' It may not be,' said the preLite ; ' Angus is too insolent and powerful ; and of Arran's designs, upon my conscience ! I know nothing.' As he said this, the churchman incau- tiously struck his hand upon his heart, and a steel hauberk, which he wore concealed under his cas- sack, rung with the blow. ' I perceive, my lord,* said Doughis, ' that your conscience is not sound, for I hear it clatter.' Turning next to Sir James Hamilton, he besought him to appease his brother the Earl of Arran ; and Hamilton appeared in- clined to be a {jeacemaker, when Arran's natura. son, a man of brutal and turbulent manners, up- braided him with cowardice. ' Bastard sniaik, said Sir James, ' thou liest falsely; I shall fight . tills day where thou darest not be seen ! ' and rushing into the street with his drawn sword, at the head of his vassals, Hamilton threw himself upon the party of Angus, and was almost instantly slain. A fierce contest ensued, during which the Bishop of Dunkeid retired to his chamber, where he piously oiTered up his prayers to God for the staunching of these unchristian feuds. Mean- while the conflict raged, and Angus was at last victorious, seventy of his antagonists being slain, and the rest put to flight ; whilst Beaton, the arch- bishop, who seems to have been personally en- gaged, fled for refuge behind the altar of the Black Friars' Church. Trc^mbling for the safelv of the prelate, Douglas flew l'ix)m his retreat, and arrived at the moment when the enraged followers of his nephew had torn their victim from the sanctuary 184 GAVIN DOUGLAS. to which he had retreated. A few minutes longer, and the tragedy of Becket might have been re- peated in Scothuid : the rochet had been already torn from his shoulders, and their swords were at his throat, when Douglas eftectually interposed, and by his remonstrances averted the meditated destruction. Not long after, one of those sudden revolutions, which were of so frequent occurrence in a feudal government, overwhelmed the party of Angus, and compelled that nobleman and Bishop Douglas to take refuge at the court of Henry VIII., at that time described by Erasmus as a ' truly regal abode, where learning and the best studies had found a favoured seat.' He here not only found an asylum, but was rewarded by a pension, and enjoyed the society and literary converse of various eminent scholars. One of these was the noted Polydore Virgil, then employed in composing liis history of England. To him Douglas communi- cated the only prose production which he appears to have written, a Commentary on the early history of his country. ' The jjublication of Mairs' History of Scotland,' says Dr. Irving, ' in which that au- thor ventured to expose the Egyptian fables of his predecessors, had excited the indignation of such of his countrymen as delighted to trace their origin to the daughter of Pharaoh. Douglas was studious to warn his new friend against adopting the opinions of this writer, and presented him with a brief commentary in which he pursued the fabu- lous line of our ancestry from Athens to Scotland. This tractate, which was probably written in Latin, seems to have shared the common fate of the GAVIX DOUGLAS. 185 writinsjs entrusted to Polvdore, wlio, to secure tlie faults of I'-is \A-ork from the danger of detection, is said to liave destroyed many invaluable monu- ments of antiquity *.' Fi"om this quotation the historical talents of the prelate aj)pear to have been of a tar inferior description to his poetical abilities ; and the conduct of his Italian friend, if it only led to the destruction of aLatin commentaryon the descent of the Scots from the daughter of Pharaoh, how- ever unjustifiable in point of principle, was not very calamitous in its effects. It was the misfor- tune of Douglas to live in an age when national vanity, a love of traditionary fable, and a warm imagination, formed the chief sources from whence Scottish history was derived. The party of Albany and the enemies of the bishop were now all-powerful ; and in his absence a sentence of proscription was jiassed against him as a fugitive traitor, who had devoted himself to the service of the King of England. The reve- nues of his cathedral were sequestrated, and all ])er- sons interdicted from holding connnunication with him under liigh penalties ; at the same time the governor individually, and the three estates of the reahn in their collective capacity, addressed letters to the pope, requesting his holiness to beware of nominating the traitor, GavinDougias, to the arch- bishoprick of St. Andrews and the abbacy of Duni- fermline, — a caution which rather betrays their high opinion of his abilities and virtues than mili- tates against his integrity. In the midst of these scenes of proscri])tion and exile, Douglas, whose * Irving's Lives, vol. i. p. 17. 186 GAVIN' DOUGLAS. life since the period that he had forsaken liis tranquil literary labours had been the sport of persecution and calamity, was seized with the plague and died at London, in the year 1522. The character of this man, as it is drawn by the classical pen of Buchanan, is highly to his honour, but may be perhaps suspected of partiality. ' lie died at London, having proceeded so far on his journey to Rome, to the great regret of all those good men who admired his virtues. To splendour of birth, and a handsome and dignified person, he united a mind richly stored with the learning of the age, such as it then existed. His temperance and moderation were very remarkable ; and livinQ- m turbulent tmies, and surrounded by factions at bitter enmity with each other, such was the general opinion of his honesty and uprightness of mind, that he possessed a high influence with all parlies. He left behind him various monuments of his genius and learning of no common merit, written in his native tongue *.' A still b.igher strain of panegyric is indulged in by Dr. Irving: ' Con- nected,' says he, ' as Douglas was with a powerful and factious family, which had often shaken the unstable throne of the Stuarts, instead of co-ope- rating in their unwarrantable designs, he invariably comported himself with that meekness which ought always to distinguish the character of the man who devotes himself to the service of the altar. . . With the fortitude incident to a great niiiul, he submilted to the numerous disappointments and niortilications which thwarted him in the career of * Buchanan's History, b. 14, c. 13. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 187 |)referment ; and when at length he obtahied an accession of power, he never sought to avenge the Avrongs to which he had formerly been exposed. His character as apoUliciau appears to have com- manded the reverence of his comitrymen ; antl in the discharge of his duty as a Christian pastor, he exhibited a model of primeval purity. By his exemplary piety and learning, by his public and private acts of charity and munificence, he reflected distinguished honour on the illustrious fomily from which he descended, and on the sacred profession to which he had devoted his honourable life.' This is the language of generous but somewhat exaggerated and indiscriminate panegyric. In h'ls political conduct Douglas supported a party which had been called into existence by the precipitate and imprudent marriage of the queen, and was animated by the selfish and often treacherous policy of the Earl of Angus. In his individual conduct he was pacific, temperate, and forgiving ; but his secret correspondence with Henry VHl. and his minis- ters, instead of commanding the reverence, was probably the great cause of the animosity with which he was treated by his countrymen ; nor can he be very consistently held up as a model of primeval purity, whom we find in the next sentence to have been the fiither of a natural daughter, from whom the house of Foulewood is descended. His genius and learning are unquestionable ; his tem- per was mild and aflectionate ; and we may hops that his munificence rests on a more certain evidence than his patriotic feelings or poliiical integrity. SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 1-190— 1557. 191 SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 1490—1557. The fine feudal portrait given of him in ' Mar- mion,' and the lahorious edition of his works presented to the world by Chalmers, have ren- dered the name of Sir David Lindsay familiar to the general reader, and to the patient antiquary. Inferior in high poetical genius to Dunbar or Douglas, he vet pleases by the truth and natural colouring of his descriptions, his vein of native humour, his strong good sense, and tiie easy flow of his versification. For the age in which he lived, and considering the court-like occu])ations in which his time was spent, his learning was various and respectable ; and vvere he only known as a man whose writings contributed essentially to the introduction of the Reformation, this cir- cumstance alone were sufficient to make him an object of no common interest. The exact period of his birth is unknown, but it was in the reign of James IV. His family was ancient, and the paternal estate, the Mount, near Cupar, Fife, is still pointed out as the probable birth-place of Lindsay. Mackenzie asserts, but without giving any authority, that he received his education at the University of St. Andrew's, and afterwards travelled into FrancCj Italy, and Germany. It is certain that 192 SIR DAVID LINDSAY. lie mentions the appearance of the Italian ladies, as if he had been an eye-witness ; but his re- maining travels, and their having been performed in the period of youth, although not improbable, are conjectural. The truth is, that of the youth of Lindsay nothing is known. We first meet with him in the manuscript accounts of the Lord Treasurer, when, on the 12lh October, 1511, he ^^•as presented with a quantity of' blew and yellow tafl'ety to be a play coat for the play performed in the king and queen's presence in the Abbey of Holyrood.' In 1512 he was appointed servitor or gentleman - usher to the prince, afterwards James V. ; and in the succeeding year, he makes liis appearance on a very strange and solemn occasion. He was standing' beside the king in the church at Linlithgow, when that ex- traordinary apparition took place (immediately before the battle of Flodden) wliich warned the monarch of his approaching danger, and solemnly entreated him to delay his journey. The scene is thus strikingly described by Pits- cottie : — ' The king,' says this author, ' came to Linlithgow, where he happened to be for the time at the council, very sad and dolorous, making his devotion to God to send him good chance and fortune in his voyage. In the mean time, there came a man, clad in a blue gown, in at the kirk door, and belted about him with a roll of linen cloth, a pair of bootikins on his feet, to the grit of his legs, with all other liose and clothes con- form thereto ; but he had nothing on his head, but syde red-yellow hair behind, and on his halhts, which wan down to liis shoulders, but his forehead SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 193 was bald and bare. He seemed to be a man of two-and-fifty years, with a great pyke-staff in his hand, and came first forward among the lords, crying and speiring for the king, saying, " he desired to speak to him." While at the last, he came where the king was sitting in the desk at his prayers ; but when he saw the king he made him little reverence or salutation, but leaned down familiarly on the desk before him, and said to him on this manner, as after follows: — " Sir king, my mother has sent me to you, desiring you uot to pass at this time where thou art purposed ; for if thou doest, thou wilt not fare well in thy journey, nor none that })asseth willi thee. Fur- ther, she bade tliee converse with no woman, nor use their counsel ; for if thou do it, thou wilt be confounded and brought to shame." By the time this man had spoken thir words unto the king's grace, the evening song was near done, and the king paused on thir words, studying to give him an answer ; but, in tlie mean time, before the king's eyes, and in presence of all the lords who were about him for the time, this man vanished away, and could no ways be seen or compre- hended, but vanished away as he had been a blink of tlie sun, or a whiss of the whirlwind, and could no more be seen. I heard say, Sir David Lindsay, (Lion Herald,) and John Inglis, (the Marshall,) who were at that time young men and special servants to the king's grace, were standing presently beside the king, who thought to have laid hands on this man, that they might have spiered further tidings at him ; but all for nought ; they could not touch him, for he vanished VOL. HI. O 194 SIR DAVID LINDSAY. away betwixt them, and was no more seen*/ There can be little doubt that the mysterious and unearthly -looking personage, who appeared in the royal chapel and vanislied like a whiss of the whirlwind, was a more substantial spectre than was at that time generally believed. James, with tlie recklessness which belonged to his cha- racter, was hurrying into a war, which proved disastrous in its consequences, and was highly impopular with a great proportion of his nobles ; and the vision at Linlithgow may have been in- tended to work upon the well-known superstitious feelings of the monarch. It is even by no means impossible, that Sir David Lindsay knew more of this strange old man than he was willing to confess ; and, whilst he asserted to Buchanan the reality of the story t, concealed the key which he could have given to the super- natural appearance of the unknown monitor. Our next information regarding Lindsay is derived from liis own works. After the fatal battle of Flodden, and the death of the king, he continued his attendance on the infant monarch who succeeded him ; and he presents us with a natural and beautiful picture of himself and liis royal charge. ' AV' hen thou wert young, and had not begun to walk, how tenderly did I bear tliee in mine arms, — how warmly wrap thee in thy little bed,— how sweetly sing, with lute in hand, to give thee pleasure, — or dance riotously, or play farces before thee on the floor :' — * Lindsay of Pitscottie, Hist, of Scotland, p. 172. •}■ Bucliauaui Hist.; b. 13, c. 31. SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 195 Quhen thow was zounp;, I bure tliee in ray arme Full tendeilie, til thow begowth' to gang'''. And in thy bed oft happit thee full warm ; With lute in hand syne sweitlj"^ to thee sang; Sum tyme in ilansing fiercely I flang, And sum tyme playand farsis on the flure ; And sum tyme of my oflfice takand cure. Again in his ' Com])laint,' directed to the king's grace, we have the same subject touched upon in a more playful vein, but with a minuteness and delicacy, which reminds us in a sister art of the family pieces of Netscher or Gerard Dow : — How, as ane chapman^ beirs his pack, I bare thy grace upon my back, And s>im tymes strydlings on ray neck, Dansing >vith niony bend and beck. The first sillabis that thou did mute Was Pa, Da. Lyn '' ; upon the lute Then playd I twenty springs perqueir', Qidrilk was great plesure for to heir. Fra play thou let me nevir rest ; Bot gynkerton thou lov'd ay best ; And ay whan thow cam fra the sciile, Than I behov'd to play the fule ; As 1 at length iutt) ray Drerae My bindre service did exprerae. Thoct^ it bene better, as says the wise, Hap to the court nor gude service, I wot thou lov'd me better than Nor now some wyf does her gudeman. Then men til others did record, Said Lyudsay wad be maid ane lord. Thow lias maid lords, sir, by Sanct Geill ! Of some that lies nocht servd sa weill'. ^ begun. * go. ' jiedlar. •• Pa. J)a. Lyn — Papa, David Lindsay. • by heart, off-hand. * although. '' well. o2 196 SIR DAVID LIXDSAY. The unhappy scenes of feudal turbulence and disorder which occupied the minority of James V. must have frequently involved Lindsay, not only in distress and difficulties, but in absolute proscription. Torn between contending factions, who each aimed at possessing themselves of the person of the mo- narch and ruling in his name, the country lan- guished in vain for something like a regular and established government. Men ranged themselves respectivelv according to their interests or their pre- judices : their fears of English influence, or their confidence in French integrity, compelled them into the ranks of the English or French parties ; the first led by the queen-mother and the Earl of Angus her husband, the second by the Governor Albany. We are not to wonder that many of the nobles, disgusted by the imprudent marriage of the Queen, and the violent and domineering temper of her brother Henry VIII., resolutely opposed the interference of this prince in the affairs of the country ; nor, on the other hand, are we to be surprised that some good men, whilst they deprecated the idea of their country being wholly governed bv English interest, believed that, with due caution, the mediation of Henry might be ser- viceable in reducing the kingdom of his infant nephew into a state of order and good govern- ment. It happened here, however, as in all cases of political commotion, that the proportion of those who were actuated by a sincere desire of peace and a love of order was small, when compared with the ambitious and selfish spirits who found their interest and their consequence increased by SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 197 anarchy and confusion ; and the consequence was what might have been anticipated, — till the king arrived at an age, when he developed tlie strength and tiie vigour of his character, and grasped with his own energetic hand the reins which imd been wrested from him by private ambition, everything was one wild scene of misrule, oppression, and disorder. The picture given by Lord Dacre, the English Warden of the Marches, in his letter to the Council, although coming from an enemy, was not overcharged : — ' My lords, there is so great brutil- nesse, mutability, and instableness in the counsaill of Scotland, that truly no man can or may trust them or their sayings or devices, without it be of things concluded or determined at a Parliament season, or General Council of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal ; of which determined mind and pin-poses, irom time to time, as often as they have sitten, and as far as I could get knowledge by mine espies, I certified the king's grace or you*.' As to the nature of Henry's interference, and the conscientiousness of that anxiety which he professed for the prosperity of Scotland, there is a passage in the conclusion of Lord Dacre's letter which is very characteristic : — ' Upon the West Marches of Scotland 1 have burnt and destroyed the townships of Annan, Dronoch, Dronochwood, Tordoft", Fishgrenche, Stokes, Estridge, Hycland, Blavvetvvood, ioulsyke, Westhill, Berghe, Higge, Stapilton,' et cetera, adding twentv other townships, ' with the water of Esk, from Stabil Gorton down to Canonby, which is six miles in length ; where, * Pinkertou's Hist. A\>\\, vol. ii. p. 4j1}. 198 SIR DAVID LINDSAY. as there was in all times past four hundred pleughs and above, they are now clearly wasted, and no man dwelling in any of them at this day, save only in the towers of Annand, Staple, and Walgh- opp.' And so he adds, with extreme complacency, ' I shall continue my service with diligence.* Whilst such was the miserable condition of the borders, the interior of the country exhibited an equally melancholy picture : — ' I assure you,' says Gavin Douglas, in a letter to a friend in England, written in 1515, ' the people of this realm are so oppressed for lack of justice, by thieves, robbery, and other extortions, that they would be glad to live under the Great Turk, to have justice *.' In the midst of this unhappy state of things, Lindsay had the satisfaction of seeing the youth- ful monarch, to whose household he was attached, exhibiting daily indications of a generous temper and a powerful capacity. ' There is not,' says the queen-mother in a letter to the Earl of Surrey, written in 1522, ' a wiser child, or a better liearted, or a more able.' And Surrey himself, in writing to Wolsey, declares of James, ' that he speaks sure for so young a tiling f.' AVhen this was written lie was only eleven years old ; but as he advanced from boyhood towards youth, the fea- tures of his character became still more i)romisinsf and decided. ' In person, countenance, and man- ner,' says Pinkerton, ' if we believe the English ambassadors, James V. very much resembled his uncle Henry : he displayed a spirit and firnmess * Pinkerton's History, Append., vol. ii. p. 464. t Ibid., p. 216. SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 199 above his age; he rode well, tilted at the glove with a spear not unskilfully, sung with force and precision, danced with elegance, and his conver- sation did honour to his preceptor Gavin Dunbar, a man of science, being replete with masculine sense and information. In nothing would he per- mit himself to be regarded as a boy. Dr. Mag- nus, in requesting Wolsey to send an ornamented buckler to James, who desired to have one on hearing that his uncle sometimes used that piece of defensive armour, informs the Cardinal that it must be of manly size, for the young king had no puerile weapon nor decoration ; even his sword being a yard long before the hilt, and yet he could draw it as well as any man. In hawks and hounds he delighted ; nor was he a stranger to any noble exercise or amusement*.' In. 1524, by the intrigues of the queen-mother, now at enmity with her husband the Earlof Auirus, the prnicipal lords and councillors, to whom the administration of affairs had been entrusted, were removed. The personal household of the young king, amongst whom were Sir David Lindsay, and Bellenden, a brother poet, and the well-known translator of Boece and Livy, were dismissed at the same time. Of tliis state revolution, the last- mentioned author, Bellenden, thus speaks in his proem to his Cosmographie : — And fyrst occurrit to my reinemberiiifj, How that I was in service with the king; Flit to his grace in zeris ' tender*st, Clerk of his Coi/ipiis, — tho' I was indiug-, "With liartaud hand, and cvury other thing ^ years. * unworthy. * Pinkerton's Hist., vol. ii. p. '