JAMES VI. PAYS A VISIT TO HIS NATIVE KINGDOM – STAYS AT DUMFRIES ON HIS
JOURNEY SOUTHWARD – HE PRESENTS THE INCORPORATED TRADES WITH A SILVER GUN
– HIS MAJESTY ATTENDS SERVICE IN ST. MICHAEL’S CHURCH, BISHOP COWPER
OFFICIATING AS THE PREACHER – DESCRIPTION OF THE SILVER GUN – JOHN MAYNE’S
POEM ON THE SUBJECT – QUOTATIONS FROM THE POEM TO ILLUSTRATE THE TRADES’
COMPETITION FOR THE TROPHY – OTHER ANCIENT PASTIMES NOTICED: THE RIDING OF
THE MARCHES, HORSE-RACING, PAGEANTRY OF THE MUCKMEN – ADMINISTRATION OF
THE CRIMINAL LAW IN THE BURGH AND DISTRICT.
WHEN King James VI. had been fourteen years settled in the southern
portion of his dominions, he, according to his own statement, felt “a
salmon-like instinct” attracting him to the land of his birth; but, as
events proved, there was something also of a shark-like design against
Presbyterianism that drew him thither – the chief object of his journey
being, says Miss Aiden, “the establishment of the ecclesiastical system of
England on the ruins of that haughty Presbytery which continued to hold
out an example of such encouragement to the pretensions of the English
Puritans. [Memoirs of the Court of King James the First (of England), by
Lucy Aiken, vol. ii., p. 59.] Wishing to dazzle the eyes of his Caledonian
subjects, he set out for the North, accompanied by a splendid train of
courtiers, headed by Buckingham, the dashing and handsome Duke, whom he
doated on, and used to address familiarly as “Steenie.” Afterwards,
however, a large proportion of the King’s lavish expenses had to be
defrayed by a tax of 200,000 pounds Scots, levied in equal proportion on
“the Spiritual Estates, the Barons, and the Burghs” of his poor ancient
kingdom. [Acts of the Scot. Parl., vol. iv., p. 558.] James travelled by
the east coast to Edinburgh, reaching it on the 18th of May,
1617; and in returning by the west, he passed down Nithsdale with his
retinue, in the closing week of next July. His Majesty was at Sanquhar on
the 31st of that month, and passed the following day in the old
Tower of Drumlanrig, as the guest of Sir William Douglas, first Earl of
Queensberry [Sir William Douglas was the eldest son of Sir James Douglas
of Drumlanrig, grandson of the baron of the same name who actively
promoted the cause of the Reformation. Sir William had three brother; Sir
James Douglas of Mouswald, David Douglas of Airdoch, and George Douglas of
Penziere.], the nobleman who, some years afterwards, built the present
magnificent Castle of Drumlanrig. It is said that, when in the
neighbourhood, James paid a visit to John, sixth Lord Herries, the
grandson of his mother’s friend, at the house which gave her temporary
shelter after her flight from Langside. His Majesty spent the night of the
2nd of August in Lincluden College, which at that time, as we
have seen, belonged to the Laird of Drumlanrig; and he would no doubt
occupy rooms in the high, secular part of the building that stands nearest
the river Cluden. Next day, the 3rd, the lieges of his good
town of Dumfries were honoured by his presence, and he was attended
thither by the gentry of the district; the probability being also that
Duke “Steenie” – “the glass of fashion, and the mould of form” – gave a
crowning lustre to the royal train. On the King’s last previous visit to
the County, it was distracted by civil war: he now found it at peace,
occupied with the pursuits of industry. Then he appeared in the Shire town
brandishing the sword of Justice – figuratively, we mean, for his Majesty
shrank instinctively from the sight of bare steel [In the Fortunes of
Nigel, chapter fifth, James is made to say of himself, “I am accounted as
brave as maist folks, and yet I profess to ye I could never look on a bare
blade without blinking and winking.”]; now he had no controversy to settle
with its leading men, and he wore the gracious smiles of a paternal
monarch. So recently as 1608, he had complained to his Privy Council of
the audacious way in which the proscribed traitor, Lord Maxwell, had been
countenanced in the Burgh, and he had ordered its bailies to be taken to
task on that account; but in 1617 he has no faults to find with, and
nothing but favours to confer on, the magistrates and people.
How to give a fitting reception to the grand party, must have been rather
perplexing to the local authorities. The gentleman then at the head of the
Burgh – Provost Weir [So says tradition; but we have not been able to
learn from any document the name of the Provost in 1617.], conferred on
the subject not only with his Council and the town-clerk – Cuthbert
Cunningham – but also with the Burgh’s Parliamentary representative,
Francis Irving, and the Commissary, James Halliday; all of whom, after
“laying their heads together,” adopted a programme for the occasion, which
included a presentation from the ladies of the district, and a festive
entertainment from the gentlemen of the town.
The first part of the proceedings must have made an effective scene,
performed, as it was, in the open air. King James, though now venerable
with age, and though rather odd-looking in his bulky dagger-proof coat of
green velvet and scarlet braguette to match, would, of course, be the
principal figure; but the Duke of Buckingham, stately and graceful in the
pricturesque attire that will ever live in the canvas of Vandyke, would
receive a large share of notice, and be beyond the reach of rivalry from
any of the local magnates that were present. So popular, however, was the
member for the Burgh, that he would be sure, on making his appearance, to
receive an ovation from the assembled crowd; and when, following him and
introduced by him, a bevy of fair matrons graced the scene, hooded,
ruffed, and farthingaled, as became ladies of their condition, the
excitement would reach its highest pitch, and be expressed in such cheers
as might sound rather boisterously in the sensitive ears of the King. The
preliminary greetings over, out stepped Dame Irving (the fair daughter of
ex-Provost Raining, and wife of the member) to perform the leading part
assigned to her in the ceremony. Making due obeisance to his Majesty, she
prayed him to accept a broad, massive gold coin, from an Italian mint, as
a token of love and welcome from his leal subjects, the ladies of the
Burgh. [Manuscript Account of the Irvings of Gribton.] How James demeaned
himself is not recorded; but it may easily be supposed, that with all his
natural warmth, and all awkward gallantry of which he was capable, he
would accept the offering, and tender his grateful thanks in the
expressive Doric, which – Latin perhaps excepted – came most readily to
his tongue.
After this out-of-doors display, the King was banqueted in great style.
The dinner given to him by the Council and the Trades, took place, as our
readers already know, in the Painted Chamber of the town-clerk’s mansion –
the only room probably in the Burgh adapted for it, the halls of the
Castle being still in bad repair. The Provost would, of course, preside;
and if he had the good-natured but exactive King on his right, and the
fastidious royal favourite on his left, his social powers, whatever they
were, would be severely taxed; but the jovial cheer on the table would by
and by soften the starch of etiquette, harmonize all ranks, and make the
convener of the Incorporated Seven feel that he was somebody, even when
sacred majesty was present, and keep the dean and the deacons from being
quite annihilated by Buckingham the magnificent. Indeed, the men of the
Trades had good reason to be proud that day. It had been whispered
beforehand that his Majesty meant to bestow upon them a tangible mark of
his regard. They were to be presented with a miniature piece of cannon,
all made of silver – a metal far more relatively precious in those times
than it is now, seeing that three ounces of it were equal in value to one
ounce of gold; and the token, besides its intrinsic worth, would let the
civilized world see how the puissant King of the British Isles delighted
to honour his faithful craftsmen of Dumfries. If there were present at the
banquet any true-blue Presbyterians, who detested the system of chants and
surplices, of liturgies and genuflexiouns, which his Majesty had thrust
upon the Kirk, they would be prudently silent on the subject, and allow
the praise of royalty to flow round as freely as the wines in which the
King’s health was toasted.
It is said, on what authority we know not, that the harmony of the party
was sadly broken in upon by James himself. Some strange little fishes –
vendaces, from Lochmaben [The vendace is a beautiful fish, slightly
resembling the parr. It is usually five or six inches in length, and when
taken out of the water it has a bright silvery appearance, with a faint
shade of blue along the back and part of the sides. It is nowhere found in
Scotland except in the Castle Loch of Lochmaben.] – were set before him,
with the intimation that they were a delicacy peculiar to the
neighbourhood, which it was hoped would prove acceptable to the royal
palate. James, thinking they emitted a peculiar smell, and that they had a
suspicious appearance, viewed them with as much horror as was felt by his
ancestor Macbeth when the ghost of Banquo glided in to disturb the feast
at Glammis. Starting to his feet, he shouted “Treason!” and it was not
till the offending dish was removed that he resumed his seat and his
equanimity. The story is an improbable one; and we must conclude, in spite
of it, that the Dumfries dinner to King James passed off not only without
disturbance, but with complete success.
That greater effect might be given to the presentation of the gun, the
ceremony was performed on the outside stair or balcony of the hall, in
sight of the general community. The crowd below would, we may be sure,
include all the journeymen and apprentices specially interested in the
proceedings, as well as such of the freemen as were not at the feast;
making altogether, perhaps, not fewer than four hundred persons connected
with the crafts. We wonder if worthy Mr. Thomas Ramsay, minister of St.
Michael’s, was there to invoke a blessing on the ceremony. He was, we
suspect, too little of a courtier, and too fierce an anti-Prelatist to be
honoured with a commission to that effect; and it is more likely that
time-serving William Cowper, Bishop of Galloway, would officiate. We can
easily fancy the sort of oration made by our British Solomon before
handing his gift – the now far-famed SILVER GUN – to the convener. In a
speech rich with pithy, vernacular sentences, racy of the Scottish soil –
which would be relished by the populace, and elicit from them ringing
acclamations- and well garnished with Latin phrases to astonish the
burgesses with his learning, he would express his regard for the good
Burgh, and his interest in its industrial welfare. He would descant upon
the Trades as the bone and sinew of the State, speak of the Dumfries
incorporations as a portion of the body politic which well merited his
paternal favour; and ask them to accept his present as a proof that they
were highly prized by the King; he telling them, at the same time, that
whilst pursuing the arts of peace, it was necessary that they should be
prepared for war; and that for this purpose he desired them to keep up
their wappenschaws, and to improve their skill as marksmen by shooting for
the token at a target yearly with harquebuse or culverin. Alas! that the
precise words of the royal oration, and those of the eloquent or any other
speeches made by the chief of the Trades and the Provost of the Burgh in
acknowledging the gift, have proved as transitory as the cheers that
greeted them. It is to be regretted also that another address of which
tradition speaks – a doggerel effusion in which the common people sang the
wisdom, virtue, and liberality of King James, and expressed their own
devotedness to his sacred person – has also perished, all save a small
scrap which makes us wish for more, the symphonious chorus of the poem: -
“Leal and true subjects we ever will be,
Hal-il-lu-ah! hal-il-lu-ee!”
King James spent part of two days in the Burgh. Before bidding a final
farewell to it, he attended religious services in St. Michael’s Church, on
the 4th of August, which were conducted in the piebald
transition from which then prevailed. No liturgy was used; but Bishop
Cowper, who had recently received consecration at the hands of an English
prelate, officiated as the preacher; and, says Spottiswoode, his
discourse, that it “made the hearers burst into tears.” His Majesty
arrived at Carlisle on the same day, and thence proceeded by easy stages
to the English metropolis.
The little “war engine” presented by King James to the Trades was about
ten inches in length, and mounted on a wheeled carriage, also of silver.
In some unaccountable way, the accompaniments of the tube disappeared at a
remote period; and about fifty years since a butt was added to the tube,
which altered the piece from a cannon to a musket – a change which
improved its appearance, but lessened its archæological value. [On the gun
is engraved the following modern inscription: - “Presented by King James
VI. of Scotland to the Seven Incorporated Trades of Dumfries, MDXCVIII.”
It was not till long after that period that James entertained a friendly
feeling towards the Burgh or the Trades. The date is evidently incorrect.
James would rather have bombarded Dumfries with real cannon, than have
presented it with a mimic one, in 1598. There is every reason to suppose
that Dr. Burnside and other chroniclers whom we have followed, were right
in giving 1617 as the date of the presentation.] Parliament had some years
before enacted “that wappenschawings be kepit throw all the realme at twa
tymes in the yeir – that is to say, the XX. of July and the tent of
October” [Acts of Scot. Parl., vol. iii., p. 91.]; and the gift of the
Silver Gun was accompanied by the condition that it was to be competed for
in connection with or as a sequel to these military musters.
A piece of meadow land skirted by the river, situated about half a mile
below the town, called Kingholm, was the customary arena for the
competition. [It has been supposed that King James gave not only the
Silver Gun, but the ground on which it was to be competed for; but we have
seen no evidence to that effect. The Holm was probably granted to the town
by one of his ancestors, and took its name of Kingholm from that
circumstance.] Could the scene when the shooting was first inaugurated –
probably on the 20th of July, 1618 – be reproduced, it would be
richly illustrative of a time when the usages of war and peace were
strangely intermingled. The little trinket was an emblem of both, having
been presented to men who lived by the labour of their hands, in order
that they might become more qualified to defend their homes and country,
if endangered by foreign enemy or internecine assailant. Each fair banner
displayed by the freeman – as, numbering two hundred or more, and
officered by their deacons and convener, they marched down to the verdant
arena – spoke, in plain or heraldic terms, of peaceful industry; but the
craftsmen wore weapons of war, offensive and defensive, according to an
Act which required that all persons not noble, and having less than three
hundred merks yearly, should be provided with brigandines, jacks, steel
bonnets, sleeves of plate, pikes six ells long, culverins, halberds, or
two-handed swords: provosts and bailies within burghs to see the Act
carried into effect. On this occasion that most primitive of fire-arms –
the clumsy culverin – would, to the exclusion of all other weapons, be
shouldered by the freemen; but following them, like so many feudal
retainers, would come “a plump of spears,” consisting of their journeymen,
partially harnessed, but wearing only pikes or swords, none but members of
the master class being permitted to compete with guns for the trophy. The
Provost, bailies, and merchant burgesses would take a prominent, but still
only secondary part in the procession, as the Trades were rather jealous
of them, and especially careful that their convener should reign
unrivalled “cock of the walk,” whenever it was graced by the Silver Gun,
or when the blue banner of the United Incorporations led the way.
The locality of the contest and its surroundings were sufficiently
picturesque. The Nith took a bolder sweep westward at Kingholm that it
does now; and, overlooking the broad meadow, there rose from its rocky
basement “a stern old tower of other days” – Comyn’s Castle – confronting
which stood, as it yet stands, a still more ancient object, the mote of
Troqueer. Both of them would probably be occupied by spectators of the
competition; and we may be sure that it would attract to the Holm itself
crowds of people from town and country. The Stewartry hills curving from
the west, with huge Criffel on the south, would form a fitting framework
for the pleasant low-ground picture; and if the sun shone auspiciously
from an azure sky during the notable summer day, and if, at the same time,
the “White Horses of the Solway” – as the crested tide from the Frith is
poetically termed – hurried past Kingholm, their cool breath would refresh
the rival marksmen, and they would give additional animation and beauty to
the scene. Refreshing influences of a more substantial kind would be drawn
upon. Many a bicker of ale and cup of claret would be drained, both by
competitors and onlookers, in order to fortify the inner man, and to toast
the royal donor of the prize, and the champion shot who bore it away from
the first time. A proud man he would be; but his name remains unrecorded,
just the same as the names of the awkward rank and file who never so much
as hit the target.
A truce to such vague conceptions. Instead of pursuing them further, let
us pass over an intermediate period of a hundred and sixty years, and
obtain from an eye-witness of the martial pastime all its salient
features, as depicted in expressive verse. [The Silver Gun, a poem by John
Mayne.] At the comparatively modern date of 1776, the shooting for the
Silver Gun had become less warlike and utilitarian, and more thoroughly
recreative in its character. Those engaged in it knew about defensive
armour only by tradition, and the fire-arms they bore had never figured in
actual warfare. The contest, divested of all its sterner features, had
become a festive carnival, that was enjoyed by people of every rank; and
the period of its occurrence was therefore a red-letter day in the
Dumfriesian calendar. Here is the arousing opening stanza of the poem:
“For loyal feats and trophies won,
Dumfries shall live till time be done.
Ae simmer’s morning, wi’ the sun,
The Seven Trades there
Forgathered, for their Siller Gun
To shoot ance mair.”
The smiths or hammermen headed the procession; then came the squaremen,
the weavers, the tailors, the cordwainers or sons of Crispin, and the
tanners; the fleshers or butchers bringing up the rear. After the muster,
“the different bands file off in parties to the Sands,” where they are
reviewed; and then we are humorously told:
“But ne’er for uniform or air
Was sic a group reviewed elsewhere!
The short, the tall; fat gouk and spare;
Syde coats and dockit;
Wigs, queues, and clubs, and curly hair;
Round hats and cockit!”
And, as the aspect of the men is grotesquely diversified, so is that of
their arms, which are of all sorts and sizes, while
“Maist feck, though oiled to mak them glimmer,
Hadna been shot for mony a simmer;
And Fame, the story-telling kimmer,
Jocosely hints
That some o’ them had bits o’ timmer
Instead o’ flints!”
As the motley but imposing army moves on,
“Frae the Friars’ Vennel, through and through,
Care seemed to have bid Dumfries adieu.”
And,
“As through the town the banners fly,
Frae windows low, frae windows high,
A’ that could find a neuk to spy
Were leaning o’er;
The streets, stair-heads, and cars forbye
Were a’ uproar!
“Frae rank to rank, while thousands hustle,
In front, like waving corn, they rustle;
Where, dangling like a baby’s whistle,
The Siller Gun,
The royal cause of a’ this bustle,
Gleamed in the sun!”
The place of meeting is, on this occasion, not Kingholm, but a field
overlooked by the Maiden-bower Craigs, situated about a mile southward of
Dumfries, where the competition was occasionally held. Here a gay scene is
presented – tents tastefully bedecked occupying a portion of the ground,
and merry groups standing around waiting the appearance of the procession,
whose approach is announced long before by the music of its band, and the
cheers of the accompanying populace:
“ ‘Out owre the hills and far awa,’
The pipers played;
And, roaring like a water-fa’,
The crowd huzzaed.”
Soon the sports of the day begin, and then,
“Wi’ mony a dunder,
Auld guns were brattling aff like thunder.
“Wide o’ the mark, as if to scare us,
The bullets ripped the swaird like harrows;
And, frightening a’ the craws and sparrows
About the place,
Ranrods were fleeding as thick as arrows
At Chevy Chase!
“Yet still, as through the tents we steer,
Unmoved the festive groups appear:
Lads oxter lasses without fear,
Or dance like wud;
Blithe, when the guns gaed aff sae queer,
To hear the thud!”
The poet, after noticing the crowd of charmed spectators, and signalizing
the men of mark amongst them, thus proceeds: -
“Hail! kindred spirits, ane and a’,
Men of account, without a flaw,
Pushing your fortunes far awa,
Or, fu’ o’ glee,
Rejoicing at our wappenschaw,
Dumfries, with thee!
“How beautiful, on yonder green,
The tents wi’ dancing pairs between!
In front, though banners intervene,
And guns are rattling,
There’s nought but happiness, I ween,
In a’ this battling!
“For miles, by people overrun,
The air resounds wi’ mirth and fun,
Frae grave to gay, frae sire to son,
And great to sma’,
The shooting for the Siller Gun
Delights them a’!”
At length one of the competitors – “a tailor slee” – puts a bullet through
the centre of the target, gains the prize, and soon,
“Wi’ loud applause frae men and women,
His fame spread like a spate wide foaming.”
The homeward march is then made:
“And as the troops drew near the town,
With a’ the ensigns o’ renown,
The magistrates paraded down,
And a’ the gentry;
And love and friendship vied to crown
Their joyous entry!
“Like roses on a castle wa’,
The leddies smiled upon them a’;
Frae the Auld Kirk to the Trades’ Ha’
And New Kirk Steeple,
Ye might have walked a mile or twa
On heads o’ people!”
As darkness comes on, the indoor festivities are proceeded with, and the
streets sparkle with fire-works: -
“Ding, ding, ding, dong, the bells ring in;
The minstrels screw their merriest pin;
The magistrates, wi’ loyal din,
Tak aff their caukers;
And boys their annual pranks begin
Wi’ squibs and crackers!”
The toasts in the Trades’ Hall almost trip each other, they follow so
rapidly in honour of the King,
“And names of whilk the country boasts,
And may be proud:
“The Johnstones, Lords of Annandale;
The Douglasses and Murrays hale;
The Maxwells, famed through Nith’s sweet vale;
Kilpatricks too;
And him of a’ that’s gude the wale,
The great Buccleugh!”
We take leave of the “Siller Gun” and its laureate, John Mayne, by quoting
and echoing part of his concluding address: -
“Our closing strain shall be:
May Scotland, happy, brave, and free,
Aye flourish like the green bay tree!
And may Dumfries,
In a’ her revelry and glee,
Blend love and peace!”
This was the chief pastime of the Dumfriesians after the suppression of
the Robin Hood pageant on saints’ days at the Reformation, which was “the
darling May-game both in England and Scotland” for centuries; and for
keeping up of which, as we have already noticed, every person, when made a
burgess or freeman of Dumfries, was required to pay a trifling sum.
In the seventeenth century, the custom of Riding the Marches ranked next
to the Silver Gun competition, as a popular recreation. Every first of
October, the magistrates, Town Council, incorporated Trades, and other
burgesses, assembled at the Market Cross or White Sands, and, having been
duly marshalled, proceeded with banners and music along the far-stretching
line which enclosed the property of the Burgh. Their course was first to
the Castle, then down Friars’ Vennel, and along the Green Sands to the
Moat at the head of the town. As a matter of course, the cavalcade was
accompanied by a crowd of juveniles, who at this stage were treated to a
scramble for apples, the town-officers throwing among them the tempting
fruit. [In the accounts for 1641, the following entries occur: - “To
Patrick Crawfurd and Jon Jonstown, for paper and writing the Town-roll at
the mertches ryding, 12s.; for ane pek of apples that day, £1 4s.”] The
marchers then passed through the grounds of Langlands and Lochend to the
north side of St Christopher’s Chapel, and thence to the village of Stoop,
at the race-ground, near which a race was engaged in for a saddle and pair
of spurs. Thence they went eastwards and southwards, betwixt the town’s
property and the estates of Craigs and Netherwood, stopping at Kelton-well,
at which point the superiority of the Burgh terminates. Here, after being
refreshed with something stronger than the produce of the said well, the
officials heard the roll of heritors read over by the town-clerk, a note
being taken of all absentees, who were liable to a fine for not being
present at the ceremony. This over, the procession returned to town. The
Riding of the Marches is a usage of the past, though it has been performed
several times during the present century.
Horse-racing was an established sport at Dumfries from a remote period.
When Regent Morton, toward the close of 1575, held a criminal court in the
Burgh, for the trial of some offending Borderers, he, according to an old
chronicle [Historie of King James the Sext, quoted in Chambers’ Domestic
Annals.], judiciously relieved his grave duties by lighter pursuits. “Many
gentlemen of England,” we are told, “came thither to behold the Regent’s
Court, where there was great provocation made for the running of horses.
By chance my Lord Hamilton had there a horse sae weel bridled, and sae
speedy, that, although he was of meaner stature than other horses that
essayit their speed, he overran them all a great way upon Solway Sands,
whereby he obtained praise both of England and Scotland at that time.”
In a Town Council minute dated the 15th of April, 1662, the
treasurer is ordered by the magistrates to provide a silver bell, four
ounces in weight, as a prize to be run for, every second Tuesday of May,
by the work-horses of the Burgh, “according to the auncient custome;” the
regulations being, that whenever the bell was borne away by one rider and
one horse three consecutive years, it was “to appertain unto the wooner
thereof for evir.” About two years afterwards the Council offered “a
Silver Cup of ffourty unce weght or therby,” to be run for at the ordinary
course within the Burgh, by the horses of such noblemen and gentlemen in
the County as were duly entered for the race. Then it was the custom,
every first Monday in May, for the day-labourers and servants of heritors
to parade the town on horseback, armed with swords and dirks, and
bedizened with sashes and ribbons; next to proceed to Dalskairth, or other
neighbouring wood; and, each furnished with boughs of the sacred birch, to
return to the race-ground, and run for the silver “muck-bell” belonging to
the Burgh, the winner receiving five merks by way of substantial reward,
in addition to the honour of being the nominal owner of the prize for a
year.
Even as the Trades had their convener and the Councillors their provost,
so this more humble fraternity had a chief entitled the Lord of Muckmen,
who was annually appointed to that dignity by popular suffrage. In 1688,
John Maxwell, the person who then occupied that high office, conceiving
himself ill supported by his vassals, complained to the Council on the
subject. “It is verie weel knoun unto your honours,” said his lordship,
“that it is the ancient custome for your petitioner, or any being in the
office for the tyme, to ryde with his men accompanying him with their best
apparel everie first Monday of May yeirlie, and that the Council grant
them power and warrand to poynd such of the inhabitants who meanlie
refuse, and are found to be deficient, at that solemnitie.” After this
pompous prologue, Lord Maxwell descends to absolute bathos when he reminds
the authorities “that it is the use and custome to grant precept upon
their treasurer for as much money as will drink their honours’ good
health.” The prayer of his petition is a sweeping one, as he asks that
each defaulter shall “poynded to the value of six shillings Scots,” and
that a trifle for the indispensable toast may be duly forthcoming. The
Council, with mingled liberality and prudence, ordained the treasurer to
give the supplicant half-a-crown, and to redeem the muck-bell for five
merks, that it might be run for that year, but declined to punish
offenders in the mode proposed by the petitioner. Even at that early date,
the pageant was beginning to lose its hold on the populace; and in May,
1716, the Council passed an Act to abolish it altogether. The preamble
states that the sport had been accompanied by “severall irregularities and
misdeamours, to the scandal of the place and dishonour of God.” They
therefore, “by a plurality of votes, prohibit the riding of the muckmen in
all time coming; and, in order to the entire extinguishing of this custom,
they appoint the treasurer to sell the muck-bell for the best advantage.”
Horse-racing has fallen into dispute, there having been none in the town
or neighbourhood – that is to say, on a large scale – during the last
five-and-twenty years; and though the work-horse competition, which was
old two hundred years ago, was brought down by the Burgh carters till our
own day, it too has disappeared.
So much for the pastimes of the seventeenth century. Let us now say
something on quite a different subject, the administration of the criminal
law. In the early part of the seventeenth century, the periodical
justiciary courts held at Dumfries had a very extensive jurisdiction –
cases coming before them for the sheriffdoms of Berwick, Roxburgh,
Selkirk, Peebles, and Dumfries, and the stewartries of Annandale and
Kirkcudbright. A glance at the proceedings during part of a single session
will show the kind of crimes most prevalent at that time in these
districts, and how they were dealt with by the court. On the 21st
of May, 1622, the justiciary court was opened at the Burgh by “Walter,
Erle of Buccleuche; Lord Scott of Whitchesters and Eskdaill; Sir Andrew
Ker of Oxnam, knight, Master of Jebrut; Sir Williame Setoune of Killismure,
knyt; and Sir John Murray of Philliphaugh, kt., commissioners appoyntit by
our Souvrane Lord, under his Majesties Greit Seale for that effect;
Gilbert Watt, notar-public clark; Wm. Cornwath; Robert Scott; Messrs.
Steven Young, officer, and John Douglas, dempster.”
A good deal of time is taken up with the fencing of the court, and other
preliminary forms, after which sundry men of substance step forward, and
give bond for the good behaviour of certain law-breakers, or their
surrender for trial if called upon: for example, John Jardine of
Applegarth becomes surety for William Carruthers, brother of Holmends,
that “he, his wyf, bairnes, their tennents, nor servands,” shall not
trouble, molest, nor injure John Gask in Kirkstyle of Rewell, “his wyf,
bairnes, servands, men, tennents, cornes, cattle, guidis, nor geir uther
wayes,” and that he shall keep the peace, under the pain of five hundred
merks; while, on the other hand, Launcelot Murray, in Arbigland, bailie to
the Laird of Cockpule, gives security to the same amount that Carruthers,
his family and property, will receive no harm at the hands of Gask. Next
day the serious business begins – George Riddick, in Dumfries, as
Procurator-Fiscal, bringing before the court no fewer than seventeen
panels, or prisoners, “remitted to the tryell of ane assye” consisting of
the following gentlemen: - “John Lindsay of Auchinskeoche; Gawine
Johnstoune in Midlegill; Robert Herris of Killilour; Thomas Dunbar,
brother to Harbart Huntar in Halywood; John Thomsoune in Kirkland of
Tarregillis; Thomas Wricht in Carruquhane; William Veitch of Skar; Robert
Scott, laitt bailie of Harwick; Robert Scott, Westport in Hawick; John
Dickiesoune, provest of Peiblis; William Eliott, laitt provest of Peiblie;
James Keine, late bailie of Selkirk, and William Scott, callit of the
Pillaris, late bailie ther.” This jury, it will be observed, is composed
in equal proportions of landed proprietors, tenant farmers, and Burghal
gentry; and curiously enough, as showing the prevalence of
“cattle-lifting,” the chronic offence of the period, nearly all the cases
brought before them are of that character. The stealing of “ane kow” from
Blacketrig; of “twa fatt scheip fra Andro Little in Rig;” of “twa yows
from Newland;” of “four rouch unclippit scheip fra Jon Makgill in
Kirkconnell;’ of “fyftein wedderis pertaining to Balie Nicolsounce in
Parkburne;” of “ane meir of four yeir auld furth of the lands of Hershaw;”
of “seven ky and oxen furth of Tarrow-heid;” of “threttene cheises, ilk
ane ten pounds wecht;” of “ane sack of fustiane fra James Lyndsay and his
brother, pedleris and merchands, furth of their packs;” of “certane
claithes perteneing to Jon Lytle, callit the King, furth of his house in
Annane:” such are the kind of cases that come up. In each instance the
accused are “clengit,” or cleansed – that is to say, acquitted – by the
jury; and a similar verdict is returned in the subjoined case, which is
given in greater detail, as a fair specimen of the rest. George Colthart,
servitor to Jaffray Irwing, “is accusit for airt and pairt of the
steilling of ane stott of thrie yeir auld, perteneing to Jon Bell, in
Butter-daillis; and for airt and pairt of the steilling of six ky and oxen
fra Robert Mundell, in Tinwald, and William Makmorrane, the first therof,
in October, 1620 years; and for steilling of twa ky perteneing to umqule
Adam Corsane, merchant burgess of Cumfreis, furth of the landes of
Cocklekis; anf for the recting, manteneing, and intercommoning with
Ritchie Irwine, in Wodhous, and Jaffray Irwine of Rabgill, fugitives and
outlawes.” Witnesses are examined; the evidence is considered by the
assize; the chancellor, Mr. John Lindsay, pronounces words pleasant to the
ear of the panel – “Clengit and acquit of the haill;” and away he goes out
of court rejoicing. A small proportion of the trials terminate
differently. Two brothers, named Irwing, acquitted on one of the
proceeding charges, are again brought to the bar, accused of having, so
far back as 1616, stolen forty pounds Scots from a chest belonging to
David Irwin, at Stapleton. One of them, Gilbert, gets “clean” off; the
other, George, if “fylitt” – stained, convicted: and the dempster begins
to realize the fact – pleasant or otherwise – that he will yet have
something to do; something very serious for the “stouthrief” fo twelve
sheep belonging to James Irwing of Wysbie, are “fylitt thairof.”
Other capital convictions follow, providing work, not simply for the
dempster, but the executioner: - Adam Henrie, who had made too free with
the cattle of Tarrow-heid; Walter Lytle, who had harried a hirsel at Elven
Water “perteneing to the Ladye Johnstoune,” and “burned Andro Lytle his
house in Bombie;” “Bauld Jok Armestrang,” who had tithed the flocks of
Hairlawmill; and Thomas Moffat, in Hightae, who had borrowed without leave
four hundred merks from the coffers of Bailie Wilsonne, Lochmaben – are
all found guilty; and, together with the two Irwings, are “ilk of thame
adjudgit and condampnit to be taken to the place of execution in Dumfreis,
and ther to be hangit be the heid, ay and quhill thay be deid, as was
pronouncit in judgement by the mouth of the said Jon Douglas, dempstar” –
all except Bauld Jok, who, as his offence (stealing five sheep) was of a
lighter hue than the crimes of his fellow-convicts, is sentenced to the
less ignominious doom of drowning till “he be deid in the wattir of Nith.”
[The record of these cases was first published in a supplement to the
Annals of Hawick, in which work it is stated that the original manuscript
had “slumbered apparently unnoticed for more than two centuries amongst
the archives of the burgh of Hawick,” having probably found its way
thither “in consequence of Mr. Gibbert Watt, town-clerk of Hawick for at
least twenty years prior to 1658, having also been clerk of circuit.” It
is further explained “that no similar record of so early a date has been
preserved in the General Register House at Edinburgh.”] |