Passing from the great houses which
were royal, or nearly so, the researches of M. Michel have brought out a
vast number of Scotsmen of the more obscure families, whose condition was
materially improved, to say the least of it, by migration to La Belle
France. Conspicuous for his good fortune among those who had reason to
lament the kindly King Charles VII., was Nicholas Chambers, écuyer
d’ecurie du roi, who, in 1444, obtained the seigneury of Guerche, in
Touraine, the district of the Douglases. Then follow certain Coninglants,
Coigans, Coningans, Cogingands, and Conyghans, clustered together as
variations on Cunningham; to these are set down certain gallant
achievements, escapes, and fatalities, but nothing very specific for the
genealogist, until one of them is run to earth in acquiring the lands of
Arcenay, in Burgundy, by union with the heiress, Martha of Louvois. After
this the family is traced through many distinguished members to the first
Revolution, when it disappears; but it reappeared, it seems, in 1814, and
is supposed still to exist.
In tracing the alliances of the
Lords of Arcenay, another Scots family of like origin turns up in the
marriage of one of them to Marguerite de Humes, daughter of Jean de Humes,
Seigneur de Chérisy. This Jean’s mother was the daughter of a Guillauine
Stuart, supposed to be of Scots origin; and his grandmother, before her
marriage to his grandfather Humes, had been the widow of a George de
Ramsay, "probablement Ecossais mi-memo," as M. Michel says.
Next come the Quinemonts or Kinninmonds, also
established in Burgundy and Touraine. Their estate in Touraine alone may
stand as a sample of the lists, long to tediousness, of the domains
attached to the names of Scots families by the French heralds. They were
Seigneurs "de Saint-Senoch, de la Roche-Aymer, de Varennes, des
Cantelleries, de Baugé, de la Guénerie, de la Houssière, de Vauguétin, de
Paviers," &c.
Next in order comes La Famille
Gohory. To them L’Hermite-Souliers dedicates a chapter of his ‘History of
the Nobility of Touraine,’ wherein he derives them from the Gori of
Florence; but M. Michel triumphantly restores them to their true
distinction as Scots Gorrys or Gowries. Among the noble houses of Touraine,
follows that of Helye Preston de la Roche Preston, married to Dame Eleanor
Desquartes, eminent in its own province from its nobility, and illustrious
as the stock of the great Descartes. It is questioned whether the husband
was a son of Edward Preston, who took to wife Pregente d’Erian, or of
Laurent Preston, married to another daughter of the same house. These
Erians seem to have had a decided partiality for the bonny Scots, since
the widow of Edward Preston married the Seigneur of Poncesu and La
Menegauderie, who, having been an archer of the Scots Guard under the name
of De Glais, is with reasonable probability supposed to have been a
Douglas from Scotland; while another daughter is allied to the Seigneur de
la Guenaudière, named Mauriçon, supposed to be a form of Morrison. There
are still among other branches of the D’Erian race "plusieurs alliances
avec des gentilshommes Ecossais de la garde du roi." One falls to
Guillaume Dromont or Drummond, another to Guillaume le Vincton—.the
nearest approach which French spelling and pronunciation can make to
Swinton, though one might think it more akin to Livingston. Another is
destined to Henri de Crafort or Craufurd, Sieur de Longchamp et de la
Voyerie.
Passing from the husbands of the
D’Erians, the next Scot endowed by marriage is André Gray, a name that
speaks for itself. There are two noble archers of the Guard called Bourtic—probably
they were Bourties, the difference being a clerical error rather than a
corruption; and these are followed by a group of distinguished Livingstons
converted into Lévistons.
Passing into Champagne, we have the
coats armorial and some genealogical particulars of the houses of Berey,
D’Handresson, Locart, Tournebulle, and Montcrif—the origin of these is
obvious. The last was probably an ancestor of that Moncriff who shines so
brilliantly among the wits of the Grimm and Diderot school—one of the
forty immortals of the Academy, and a popular dramatist. The next name
does not so obviously belong to us—Val-Dampierre — and one can only take
M. Michel’s word for it. It may perhaps be resolved into its familiar
original by a process such as that applied to its owner’s neighbour as a
great territorial lord in the land of vineyards—namely, the Sieur
Devillençon. When we go back a step to Vullençori, and then to Villamson,
something not unfamiliar dawns upon us, and at last we are landed in the
homely surname of Williamson—very respectable in many instances, but
distinguished among ourselves by no greater celebrity than that of poor
Peter Williamson, who was kidnapped and sold as a slave in the
plantations, whence he escaped to tell his adventures to the world.
It is quite delightful to see how
this ordinary plant flourishes and blooms in Champagne. According to
traditions of the family, collected by La Chenaye-Desbois, Thomas
Williamson, second of the name, archer of the Guard in the reign of
Charles VIII., was allied to the royal house of Stewart. This may be true,
but it was a current mot among the French of old that every
Scotsman was cousin to the king. Whatever they may have been, however, the
Williamsons or D’Oillençons, with many territorial branches, clustered
round "les terres de Saint-German-Langot, de Lonlai-le-Tesson, et de la
Nocherie." They preserved their highly characteristic native motto,
"Venture and win," which had, no doubt, been their guiding principle from
generation to generation. Their blazon, too, is ambitious, and strange to
behold: a double-headed eagle, like the Austrian, grasping in its claws
something like a small beer-barrel; in scientific language—a spread eagle
argent, membered and beaked, poised on a casquet of the same, hooped
argent.
It would be easy to cull similar
particulars about the house of Maxuel, Herisson, or Henryson,
metsmorphosing itself into D’Arson; Doddes or Dods; Estud from Stud, a
name now scarcely known among us; the De Lisles, viscounts of Fussy, who
are identified with our northern Leslies; Vaucoys, which is identified
with Vauxe or Vans; Lawson, which turns itself into De Lauzun; D’Espences
or Spences, who further decorate their simple native surnames with the
territorial titles, De Nettancourt, de Bettancourt, de Vroil and de
Villiers-le-Sec, de Launoy-Renault, de Pomblain, de Vile Franche, de St
Sever, and many others. Surely the Spences, left behind in cloudy, sterile
Scotland, ploughing sour moorlands, or drawing meagre profits from the
retail counter behind the half-door of the burgh town, would have found it
hard to recognise their foreign cousins fluttering thus among the
brilliant noblesse of sunny France.
The changes, indeed, which our
harsh, angular surnames undergo to suit them to the lazy liquid flow of
the French utterance, are such as to give tough and tantalising work to
the genealogical investigator; and it is difficult to appreciate the
industry which M. Michel has bestowed in the excavation of separate
families and names from the great mass of French genealogical history. We
all know the lubricity of the French language at this day in the matter of
names, and how difficult it is to recognise the syllables of one’s own
name even where it is read off from one’s own visiting-card, if the reader
be a Frenchman. Such a name as Halliday is easily reclaimable, even though
its owner may flame in the territorial patronymic of Vicomte de
Pontaudemer. Folcart and Le Clerk are resolvable into Flockhart and Clerk.
In deriving D’Anglars from Inglis, however, as others have done, M. Michel
acknowledges that the circuit is considerable, if not impracticable: "La
distance nous parait trop grande pour qu’un rapprochement soit possible."
The name of William Stuyers, too, puts him at defiance, although in an old
writ he is mentioned as an officer of the Guard, and designed a "natif du
royaume d’Escosse." Sinson is, without much stretching, traced to Simpson.
The name Blair appears in its native simplicity, only attaching itself to
the titles Fayolles and L’Estrange, in preference to the territorial
titles of Pittendriech or Balthayock enjoyed by the most eminent members
of the house in Scotland. Wauchop transposes itself into Vaucop and Vulcob.
Perhaps, however, the respectable but not dignified name of Monypenny owes
the greatest obligation to change of climate. Even in its own original
shape, when transferred to a country where it does not signify a large
store of copper coinage, it floats down the mellifluous flood of the
noblesse quite naturally in company with the territorial titles of
Varennes and Concressant; but when altered into Menypeny, it might return
home, as indeed it did, in the possession of a French ambassador, without
risk of detection. The change is but slight, and shows how much may be
accomplished by the mere alteration of a letter in removing vulgar and
sordid associations.
Another remarkable type of the Scots
emigrant families is that of Blackwood. It suffers little more by
transference than the necessary remedy for the want of the w, in which it
partakes with the royal house of Stewart. The French Blackwoods were of
the later Scots emigrants fleeing from the Reformation, and their rewards
in the country of their adoption were rather from offices than from lands.
It would be difficult to find the distinction between the territorial
aristocracy and the noblesse of the Robe better exemplified than in
comparing the fortunes of the Blackwoods with those of the other families
just spoken of. Adam Blackwood, the head of the house, held a judicial
office which gave him the title of Conseiller au siege de Poitiers. His
grandfather fell at Flodden. His father had been killed in the wars of
Henry VIII., probably at Pinkie, when he was ten years old, and his mother
died soon after, a widow broken-hearted. The boy, tended by relations
whose religion gave them more influence in other countries than at home,
was sent early abroad. He became a thorough Frenchman, studying at Paris,
and spending his days at Poitiers. He was a champion of the old Church and
the divine right of kings, and wrote with the controversial vehemence of
the age against the opinions promulgated by Buchanan in his ‘De Jure Regni
apud Scotos.’ But that for which he chiefly claims remembrance is his
‘Martyre de la Royne d'Escosse, Douairiere de France,’ &c., with an
account of the "mensonges, calomnies, et faulses accusations dressées
contre ceste tresvertueuse, trescatholiqne et tresillustre princesse." It
is most easily to be found in the reprint of tracts on Queen Mary, by Jebb.
Blackwood hit the key-note of that kind of chivalrous rejection of
sublunary testimony, and deification of the accused, which have
characterised the subsequent vindicators of Queen Mary’s innocence; and
there is in his resolute singleness of purpose, and energy of
championship, the charm which, when one can forget the facts, pervades the
writings of this class. Blackwood married Catherine Courtinier, daughter
of the Procureur du Roi of Poitiers. She bore to him four sons and seven
daughters—a progeny so abnormal in France, that it induces M. Michel to
express admiration at his continuing the pursuit of letters, "malgré ses
devoirs de magistrat, d’époux, et de père." He published a collection of
pious meditations in prose and verse, of which M. Michel tells us that,
paying a visit to London, where he was presented at court, King James
showed him a copy of his ‘Meditations’ in the royal library. One of
Blackwood’s sons became a judge at Poitiers. His son-in-law, George
Crichton, was professor of Greek "an college de France." His brother Henry
taught philosophy in the University of Paris; another brother, George,
"fit un chemin assez brillant dans l’église de France."
This was a method of enrichment
which could not give a territorial hold to a family; and whether it was
from a distaste towards acquisitions which could not be made hereditary,
or to difficulties in the way of a foreigner rising in the Church, it is
observable that the ecclesiastical is the department in which the Scots
took the least portion of the good things going in France. Yet some of
them drew considerable temporal prizes in the profession which deals with
our eternal destiny. A certain priest named John Kirkmichael, or
Carmichael, seems to have had an eventful history, of which but the
outline remains. As he is said to have escaped from the carnage of
Verneuil, it is to be presumed that he fought there, and was not in
orders. But he afterwards became Bishop of Orleans, and is known in French
ecclesiastical history as Jean de St Michel. It is a question whether it
is he who established in his cathedral church the messe écossaise
for his countrymen slain at Verneuil. The great Cardinal Beaton, Bishop of
Mirepaux, was an ecclesiastical prince in France, whence great portion of
his lustre was reflected on his own poor country. His nephew James, a far
worthier man, had a different career, spending his old age in peace among
his French endowments, instead of coming home to fall in the wild contests
of his native land. He was employed as Queen Mary’s ambassador in France,
and continued ever faithful to her cause. He saw, as the shadow of the
change of rule and religion in his own country, a like change come over
the fortunes of the Scot in France. His countrymen were now no longer
adventurers seeking the region best fitted for pushing their fortunes, but
poor refugees seeking bread or a place of hiding and refuge. Yet a gleam
of patriotic feeling came over the old man when he heard from his
retirement that the son of his old mistress—heretic though he was—had
succeeded to the broad empire of Britain; and he caused fire on the
occasion certain feux de joie at St Jean de Lateran.
Several of the Kennedys, predominant
among the hard-fighting clans near the Border, obtained distinctions in
France, where the sharp contour of their name was smoothened into Cenedy.
Thomas de Houston is pleased to accept from Louis XL the seigneury of
Torcy in Brie, in place of the châtellenie of Gournay, which he resigns.
Robert Pittillocb, a Dundee man, seems to have first entered the service
in the humblest rank, and to have worked his way up to be captain of the
Guard, and to enjoy the nickname of Petit Roi de Gascogne, along with a
more substantial reward in the lordships of Sauveterre. One could go on at
great length with such an enumeration, but it is apt to be tiresome. This
is not intended as a work of reference or a compendium of useful
knowledge, and I must refer the reader who, either for historical or
genealogical purposes, wishes to find all that is known about the
settlements of the Scots families in France, to go to M. Michel’s book.
The names and titles thus casually
brought together, will serve to show how thoroughly reviving France was
impregnated with good Scots blood. The thorough French aristocratic
ton
characterising the numerous territorial titles enjoyed by the adventurers,
may strike one who meets the whole affair for the first time as mightily
resembling the flimsy titles by which men of pretension beyond their caste
try to pass themselves off for somebodies. But everything about these
Scots was real and substantial, in as far as the fortunes they achieved
were the fruit of their courage and counsel, their energy and learning.
The terrible slaughter among the French aristocracy in the English battles
made vacancies which came aptly to hand for the benefit of the
enterprising strangers, and of course they could not do otherwise than
adopt the custom of the country, with its complex system of territorial
titles, in which men’s proper names got swamped and buried, in so far that
half-a-dozen Frenchmen, all brothers born of the same father and mother
will be commemorated under names totally distinct.
It was during the hundred years’ war
that this colony, as it might almost be termed, of Scots settled in
France. The affair bears a striking resemblance to the influx of Northmen,
or Normans, five hundred years earlier, with this grand distinction, that
these came as enemies and depredators, seizing upon their prey, while the
Scots came as friends and champions, to be thankfully rewarded. The great
similarity of the two migrations is in the readiness with which both sets
of men settled down, assimilating themselves with the people. The
assimilation, however, was not that of slave or follower in the land of
adoption—not even that of equal, but partook of leadership and guidance.
Both were received as a sort of aristocracy by race and caste; and hence
it came to be a common practice for those who were at a loss for a
pedigree to find their way to some adventurous Scot, and stop there, just
as both in France and England it was sufficient to say that one’s
ancestors came in with the Normans.
Colbert, who has left his mark on
history as the most powerful of financiers, when he became great, got the
genealogists to trace his family back to the Scots, as many a man in
England, on rising to distinction, has spanned over intervening
obscurities and attached his pedigree to a follower of the Norman. The
inscription, indeed, on his Scottish ancestor’s tomb will be found in.
Moreri—
"En Escosse j’eus le berceau,
Et Rheims m’a donné le tombeau."
Molière professed Scots descent, to
cover, as the invidious maintained, the vulgarity of the sound of his
paternal name of Poquelin. A mystery worth clearing up surrounds a
suggestion sometimes made about the great Sully, that he professed
relationship with the Beatons of Scotland to bring him rank. What makes
such hints appear rather invidious is, that he claimed for his own family
of Bethune a lustre which could get no aid from Scotland. He arrogated
descent for it from the house of Austria, and specifically warned the
public against the supposition that he meant the existing imperial house
of Hapsburg, whose ancestors were but private gentlemen a century or two
ago—his ancestors were of the old reigning house. There seems,
however, to have been some hitch in his pedigree; for, in the notes to the
common editions of his memoirs, allusion is made to a process "unjustly"
disputing his right to bear the name of Bethune, in which a writer on his
side mentions his connection with the Beatons of Scotland; and M. Michel
cites from a standard genealogical and heraldic authority the dictum that
the Bethunes were of Scottish origin. So little, by the way, did Sully
know of the geographical relations of the archbishop, that he speaks of
his diocese of Glasgow as a place in Ireland.
To return to the comparison with the
Normans. Sir Francis Palgrave set all his learning to work with sedulous
diligence to find out some of the antecedents, in their own northern land,
of the illustrious houses of Normandy and England, but without success;
all was utter darkness, as if one had passed from the unsetting sun into
the arctic winter. The failure was more instructive than many a success.
It showed emphatically how those brilliant adventurers, the Frenchest of
the French, had cast their chrysalis when they spread their wings in the
new land of their adoption. And somewhat similar it seems to have been
with our Scots, who at once take their place with all proper national
characteristics in the fastidious aristocracy of the most polished people
in the world, preserving no traces of the influence of their native bogs
and heaths and hard upbringing, and equally hard uncouth phraseology.
On one point, however, the Scots
must have differed from their Scandinavian prototypes—they must have owned
to pedigrees, whether fairly obtained or not The specialty of the Northmen,
on the other hand, at the commencement of their career, appears to have
been to abjure pedigree with all its vanities, and start as a new race in
competition with the old worn-out aristocratic Roman world. The old world
professed to despise the rough barbarians of the new; but these gave scorn
for scorn, and stood absolutely on their strength, their daring, and their
marvellous capacity to govern men. It is among the most singular of social
and historical caprices, that the highest source to which, in common
estimation, a family can be traced, is that which is sure to come to a
stop at no very distant date. Of families not Norman it may be difficult
to trace any pedigree beyond the era of the Norman migrations; but of all
Norman houses we know that the pedigree stops there absolutely and on
principle. The illimitable superiority assumed over the rugged adventurers
by the great families of the old world seems not to have rested so much on
the specific pedigree of each, as on the fact that they were of the old
world—that their roots were in the Roman empire—that they belonged to
civilisation. But so utterly had the historical conditions here referred
to been inverted in popular opinion, that it was usual to speak of the
house of Hanover as in some way inferior to the Stewarts, who, in reality,
were mere mushrooms beside the descendants of the Guelphs.
It would be too heavy a
responsibility for the most patriotic among us to guarantee the
unexceptionable respectability and good conduct of all those countrymen of
ours who built up their fortunes under the auspices of our munificent
ally. It would be especially perilous to guarantee that they all held that
social position at home which they asserted and maintained abroad. All the
world knows how difficult it is to adjust the equivalents of rank between
nations, and to transfer any person from one social hierarchy into his
exact place in another. There are specialties social, hereditary, and
official, to be dealt with, some of them having nothing equivalent in the
other hierarchy,—some with the same name, but a totally different
meaning,—others fictitious or casual in the one, while they have a fixed,
distinctive, even legal meaning in the other. To interpret, but far
oftener to confuse, these difficult and distracting elements of
identification, there are the variations in etiquette, in domestic usage,
in costume, in physical condition and appearance, which would all teach
towards a certain conclusion were men omniscient and infallible, but lead
rather to distraction and blunder in the present state of our faculties.
It was one of Hajji Baba’s sage observations, that in England the great
personages were stuck on the backs of the carriages, while their slaves or
followers were shut inside to prevent their escape. How many people,
supposing that
in a solemn, bearded, turbaned, and robed Oriental,
they have had the honour of an interview with some one of princely rank,
have been disgusted with the discovery that they have been doing the
honours of society to a barber or a cook!
There are some Eastern titles of
mysterious grandeur which are yet far from impressing the auditor with any
sense of dignity in their mere sound—as, for instance, Baboo, Fudky,
Maulvee, and the like. There is the great Sakibobo, too, of tropical
Africa; how would his title sound at a presentation? and how can we
translate it into English? To come to Europe, what notion of feudal
greatness do we imbibe by hearing of the Captal of Buch, the Vidam of
Athens, the Ban of Croatia, and the Stavost of Olxstern? To come nearer
home still, what can Garter or Lion make of the Captain of Clanranald, the
Knight of Kerry, The O’Grady, and The O’Donoghue? Is it not on record that
a great Highland potentate, having in Paris presented a card bearing that
he was Le Chef de Clandonochie, was put in communication with the chief of
the culinary department of the hotel where he visited? Even some of the
best established and most respectable titles have difficulty in franking
themselves through all parts of the country. Has not an Archbishop of York
been suspected of imposture on presenting his check on a Scotch bank with
the signature of Eborac? and have not his countrymen had their revenge on
the Scots Judges and their wives, when Mrs Home travelled in charge of
Lord Kames, and Lord Auchinleck retired with Mrs Boswell? We may see, in
the totally different uses of the same term, how subtle a thing titles
are. The Sheriff of Mecca, the Sheriff of London, and the Sheriff of
Lanarkshire, are three totally different sorts of personage, and would be
troubled how to act if they were to change places with each other for a
while. It is said to depend on niceties in its use whether the Persian
Mirza expresses a Prince or a mere Mister. But, after all, where can we go
for a greater social puzzle within the compass of three letters than in
our own Sir, which is at once the distinctive form of addressing royalty,
the exclusive title of knightship, the common term which every man gives
another in distant polite communication, and an especial form of
expressing haughty contempt, when communications are not intended to be
polite?
There being thus, in fact, in titles
of all sorts, considerable room to come and go upon, it is probable that
the Scots adventurers made the best of the very considerable number of
rather empty titles scattered over their barren acres. An instance of
their assumption has been recorded as a flagrancy. A certain Monteith of
obscure origin having got access to Richelieu, the Cardinal asked him
which family of Monteiths he belonged to. As the story goes, remembering
that his father was a fisherman on the Forth, he said he was "Monteith de
Salmonnet;" and the anecdote is verified by the existence of a solid folio
volume, first printed in French and afterwards translated into English,
being a history of the civil wars of Britain in the seventeenth century,
by Robert Monteith de Salmonet—a title as emphatic and distinct as that of
the proudest De Chateau Rouge or De la Tremouille. But even this audacious
case is not entirely beyond vindication. The right to a cast of a net was
a feudal privilege or servitude inheritable by the head of the family,
like any seignorial right; and, in a country where people spoke of the
succession to the hereditary gardener-ship of the lordship of Monteith, it
was not necessarily an act of flagrant imposition to make something
dignified out of the piscatory privilege.
The history of almost every man’s
rise in the world consists of a succession of graspings and holdings—of
positions taken up timidly and uncertainly, and made by degrees secure and
durable. In the development of this tendency, it will be the policy of the
immigrant to find, for any social title of a dubious or fugitive character
which be may enjoy in his own country, some seeming equivalent, but of
fixed character and established value, in the land of his adoption.
Scotland, with its mixed and indefinite nomenclature of ranks, would thus
afford good opportunities for the ingenuous youth transferring himself
from his dubious home-rank into something more specific in the symmetrical
and scientifically adjusted court precedency of France. The practice of
the Lairds and Goodmen of presenting themselves by the territorial names
of their estates, with or without their family patronymics, gave an
opportunity for rendering the possession something equivalent to the
French De and the German Von. The families that had lost their estates
adhered to the old title with the mournful pride of deposed monarchs. If
these had often the sympathy of their peculiar world with them, yet no one
could, with a shadow of justice, blame the actual possessors of the solid
acres for also claiming the honours attached to them. John Law of
Lauriston, who ruled France for a few months with the capricious
haughtiness of an Eastern despot, among the many strange chances which led
to his giddy elevation, owed much to that which gave uniformity and
consistency to the others—namely, that, although he was an Edinburgh
tradesman, his possession of a small estate, happily named, in the
neighbourhood of his business, enabled him to take rank in the
noblesse. History affords one very flagrant case of the potent uses of
the territorial Of.
In Galloway there long existed a worshipful family
called the Murrays of Broughton. They were not ennobled by a peerage, but
belonged to the opulent and proud class of territorial aristocracy who
often do not consider the peerage any distinction, and so they were
thoroughly entitled to consider themselves within the category of noble in
France and Germany. There happened also to be a small croft or paddock on
the wayside between Noblehouse and Dumfries called Broughton, and its
owner, some say its tenant only, being named Murray, took on himself very
naturally and fairly the style and title of Murray of Broughton. Having
found his uses in this title, he left it dedicated to perpetual infamy;
for he it was who, having incited poor Prince Charles Edward to the
Scottish expedition, and by his zeal obtained the office of "Secretary to
his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales," afterwards used the information
he had thus obtained to buy his own personal safety, by bringing his
companions in rebellion to the block. So thoroughly had his notoriety
impressed on the contemporary mind the notion of his representing the old
Galwegian house of Murray of Broughton, that it is believed even by local
antiquaries.
It will not do too rigidly to sift
the pretensions by which men, young, poor, obscure, and struggling, have
sought notice in early life, and found their way to honours and
possessions which they have worthily and honourably enjoyed. Imagination
is strong and criticism weak in matters of genealogy, and doubtless many
of the adventurers who planned and built their fortunes in France, as
fully believed themselves cadets of the noblest family bearing their name,
as if they had carried with them the certificate of the Lion Office.
Whatever social position the
Scottish adventurer might assume, there is little doubt that his claim to
be somebody would be pretty substantially maintained by the proud reserve
which naturally belongs to his race. We can, in fact, see at the present
day the qualities which made the fortunes of these men. These qualities
are now exercised in another sphere—in England, in the colonies, and
especially in our Indian empire, where Scotsmen are continually rising
from obscurity into eminence. On the brow of the industrious crofter on
the slopes of the Grampians we may yet see the well-becoming pride and
self-respecting gravity that, in the fifteenth century, took the honours
and distinctions of France as a natural right. Whence comes his pride? He
has no rank—he is poor—and he is no representative of an illustrious
house. No, but he is founding a house. He rises up early, and late takes
rest, that his son may go to college and be a gentleman; and when he reads
contemporary history in the public press, he knows that the grandfather of
the eminent law lord, or of the great party leader, or of the illustrious
Eastern conqueror, whose name fills the ear of fame, laboured like himself
in the fields close at hand.
It may be surely counted not without
significance among ethnical phenomena, that though France has all along
shown in her language the predominance of the Latin race, three infusions
of northern blood had been successively poured into the country; first,
the Franks—next, the Normans—and, lastly, the Scots. It seems not
unreasonable that these helped to communicate to the vivacity and
impetuosity of the original race those qualities of enterprise and
endurance which were needed to make up the illustrious history of France.
The more, however, that the standard of national character was raised by
the new element, the more would it revolt at a continued accession of
foreign blood. A country, the highest distinctions and offices of which
were given by the despotic monarch to strangers, to enable him to keep
down the native people, could not be sound at heart; and one hails it as
the appearance of a healthy tone of nationality when murmurs arise against
the aggrandising strangers.
It was not, indeed, in human nature,
either that the French should not murmur at the distinctions and
substantial rewards bestowed on the strangers, or that they themselves
should not become domineering and exacting. M. Michel quotes some very
suggestive murmurs of the time, in which it is questioned whether the
slaughter of the Scots at Verneuil was not to be set down as a piece of
good fortune to France in breaking the power of a set of masters likely to
be more formidable even than the English. But of some of the
characteristic blemishes of a mercenary foreign force the Scots were free.
They did not go to France to act the mendicant or marauder, but to be
teachers and leaders; and the evil of their presence was not that their
wretchedness made them a nuisance, but that their ambition and haughtiness
made them a reproach to the native French. Hence there were occasional
disagreeables and bickerings between the favoured foreigners and the
natives, especially when these began to gain heart and recover from the
abjectness they lay under during the great war. The following is a little
incident connected with these affairs so very like the beginning of
‘Quentin Durward,’ that it surely must have been running in Scott's mind
when he framed the events of that romance:-
"Michael Hamilton, who had a share
in the affair, relates that in Holy Week of the year 1429, he and several
of his companions-in-arms were lodged in a village named Vallet, not far
from Clisson, and threatened by the Bretons, who held the country in
considerable number. A spy sent to report on the Scots having fallen into
their hands, they made him inform them, and then hanged him. They then
took to flight, but not without leaving some of their people in the power
of the peasants. Amongst the prisoners was Hamilton, the weight of whose
cuirass had prevented his flight; he was brought to Clisson and hanged by
the very hand of the son of the spy, eager to avenge his father. From the
moment that he had seen himself taken he had invoked St Catherine, and
made a vow to go to thank her in her Chapel of Fierbois, if she would
preserve him from death. He was successful; for, he having been hanged, on
the following night the curate of the town heard a voice which told him to
go and save Hamilton.
"He paid little attention to it, and
it was only on a reiterated, order that he made up his mind to bid one of
his parishioners go to the gibbet and look whether the wretch was dead or
not. After having turned him again and again, the messenger, to assure
himself fully, bared the right foot of the culprit, and pricked the little
toe in such a manner as to make a large wound, from whence blood sprang.
Feeling himself wounded, Hamilton drew up his leg and moved. At this sight
terror took possession of the messenger; he fled, and in all haste bore to
the curate an account of what had passed. He perceiving in the whole
affair an interposition from on high, related the facts to the people who
were present; then having arrayed himself and his clergy in sacerdotal
vestments, they went in procession to the place of execution, and cut down
Hamilton. All this passed in the presence of him who had hanged him:
furious at seeing that his victim was on the point of escaping him, he
struck him on the ear with a sword, and gave him a great wound—an act of
barbarity which is not to be commended.
"Then Hamilton is laid upon a horse
and taken to a house and given into care; soon after the Abbess of the
Regrippière, having heard of what had taken place, sent in quest of our
Scot to have him treated in her convent: he is taken there; and as he was
ignorant of French, the charitable lady gives him a fellow-countryman for
his sick-nurse. He had just related his adventures to him when a voice
reminded him that he had a vow to fulfil. Unable then to walk, he waited a
fortnight, then set off for Fierbois, but not without finding by the way
companions, with whom he remained some days to recover his strength. In
this history, as in another of the year 1423, in which we find Scots in
Berry hanging eight poor peasants to revenge themselves for having been
robbed not far from there, and as also in the history of Captain Boyce
Glauny, I see the faithful picture of the miseries which, during the
Hundred Years’ War, desolated our central provinces, become the prey of
undisciplined hordes; but I find also that the Scots figure there in great
numbers."