For Stark Love and Kindness. A story of Flodden

Front matter

uyiFORM vim "FOR STARK LOVE AND KINDNESS." BY ADVERSE WINDS: AN ANGLO-AUSTRAJLIAN NOVEL. BY OLIPHANT SMEATON. " The kind of book to justify us in anticipating that the author will be heard from again."— Academy. "A really clever and entertaining story." — Liverpool Mercury. " Elsie ls one of the brightest characters we have met with for some time. ... Mr Smeaton writes well, has considerable insight into human nature, uses Lowland Scotch as if it were his native tongue, nnd puts it into the months of the right individuals. The 8U»ry deserves to be a success." — Scottish Review. "The chapters of Australia's station life are decidedly breezy and welcome, and should prove attractive to those in search of new sensations." — Tasmania Mail. THE QUEST OF A HEART, BY CALDWELL STEWART. " Every publisher should have a character even when he publishes novels.

Most publishers have. And if you wish to obtain novels that have strength and substance, yet are untainted by anarchy or immorality, go to Oliphunt, Anderson A Ferrier. This is an excellent book, and in such a time as this it is much to be thankful for that we can recommend a novel so highly." — Expository Times. <l This is a very strong book." — The Liberal. Rev. Dr Alexander Whyte says — "Thank you for your beautiful, noble, truly Christian book." The Rev. Dr Matheson says — "It must be said that in his very first work he has achieved what very few of the best writers reach in their last — a finished power of delineating character." EDINBURGH AND LONDON : OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FERRIER. A STORY OF FLODDEN BY N. ALLAN MACDONALD EDINBURGH & LONDON OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FERRIER PRINTED BT TUBNBULL AND SPEAES, EDINBCBGB POE OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FEREIER EDINBCBGH AND LONDON CONTENTS —^y\A/Vv— CHAP. PAGE I. A DAY ON COCKLE-RUE .... 7 II.

ROB GIB ...... 16 III.' LINLITHGOW PALACE — THE WARNING . . 21 IV. DARK, DARK FLODDEN .... 28 V. "STARK LOVE AND KINDNESS" ... 36 VI. SUBTERFUGE . . . . . .43 VII. TORPHICHEN PRECEPTORY . . . .51 VIII. MEG O' THE MILL .... 61 IX. JOHN ARMSTRONG THE RAIDER ... 72 x. Wallace's cave — Marion's fate ... 84 XI. THE ESCAPE FROM FALKLAND ... 91 XU. LOVE'S GOLDEN DREAM .... 100 XIII. PRESAGE OF SORROW .... 106 XIV. MOLLY STUART ..... 114 XV. THE DAY OF WOE SHALL COME . . . 122 XVI. LOVE AND ART ..... 131 XVII. JEALOUSY . . . . . .139 XVIII. HENRY'S WOOING ..... 149 XIX. may's VOW ...... 158 XX. FANTASIES AND REALITIES .... 164 XXI. LOVE IS HOPE . . . . .170 XXn. SECRET TRYSTS . . . • .179 XXIII. FOR HER SAKE . . . . .196 XXTV. MOLLY'S SACRIFICE ..... 203 XXV. WALLACE'S CAVE AT MIDNIGHT . . . CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE XXVI.

Chapter I

A DAY ON COCKLE-RUE It was a bright October morning, in the year 1503. A brilliant cavalcade of brave knights and ladies fair were leaving the Eoyal Palace of Linlithgow. After reaching the foot of the Cross brae, they turned westward along the narrow street of the town. The bells in the tower of St Michael's Church rang out a merry peal on the crisp air of the autumn morning. Their sound mingled pleasantly with merrier peals of laughter, the hum of animated conversation, the clatter of prancing steeds, the jingling of silver hawk-bells, the barking of dogs and the blowing of horns, which formed the essential accompaniments of the royal hunt. The union of the Thistle and the Rose had brought a period of peace and security to the Scottish realm. The Fourth James, still in the first flush of pride over the acquisition of so fair a prize as the lovely Princess Mar garet of England, was having a right royal time.

His pleasure-loving nature allowed public duties to occupy but a small proportion of his time. Especially during his annual sojourns in his well-beloved " Lithgow, whose palyce of plesance Micht be ane pattern, in Portugal! or France," he gave himself up to the enjoyment of those field sports for which the surrounding district gave such admirable scope. With the coming of his English queen he introduced the favourite sport of English knights, the tournament, wherein he himself made no mean figure, " By day the tourney, and by night The merry dance, traced fast and light, The masquers quaint, the pageant bright, The revel loud and long." As the gay company passed along towards the "West Port, every window in the High Street was crowded with eager faces, attracted no less by the prospect of a peep at the " White Rose " the king had brought from England, than by the dazzling costumes of the attendant lords and ladies, the gaily caparisoned chargers and the other attrac tions of the pageant.

Verily it was " a faire companye." The heralds and pur suivants, clad in scarlet mantles with blue vests, and bearing each his trumpet adorned with the royal escutcheon, led the way, followed by the Lyon-king-at-arms, couspicuous in his armorial coat, with the lion rampant emblematic of his office emblazoned on his breast. In place of holding in his hand his truncheon, he bore instead a falcon on his wrist. King James followed, attired in the peculiar hawking costume of the day, a high copatain or broad-brimmed hat, shaped like a sugar-loaf, a close-fitting jerkin, slashed and decorated with rich lace, and trunk hose, enormously padded, according to the latest English fashion. On the King's right hand, clad in a richly embroidered robe of Lincoln green, rode the young Queen, managing with courtly grace her milk-white palfrey ; on his left, the stern old Earl of Angus, ketter known as "Archibald Bell-the-Cat."

A pace or two behind the Queen ambled the " sober-footed " nag of the obsequious and easy-going Vicar of Linlithgow. Both king and queen carried hawks on their left hands ; the king a ger-falcon, and the queen a merlin, as was the custom for ladies. To protect the hand from the talons of the bird, a thick leather glove was worn, enriched with needle work. The birds were hooded preparatory to being used, and affixed to their legs were a series of silken cords with bells of different tones attached, which gave forth quite a " consort of sweet sounds," as the merry party proceeded on its way. Even the vicar carried his sparrowhawk, the bird allotted to those of the clergy, — and they were not few — who had sporting proclivities. Earl Angus carried no bird ; such a pastime he considered too effeminate for a Douglas.

He preferred to shine in the lists of the tourney ; but while accompanying his liege lord on such an auspicious occasion, he carried a light spear, with which to engage in the chase after the stag or wild boar. In the royal party were the Duke of Lennox, who carried the falcon of the rock, the bird pertaining to his rank ; the Earl of Huntly, with his peregrine-falcon ; representatives of the several branches of the Hamilton family, who resided in the neighbourhood ; Sir William Knollys, Lord St John, from the Torphichen Preceptory ; Sir Andrew Wood, of Largo, who had rendered good service to his lord by his naval successes ; and numerous other courtiers, lords, knights, and ladies of the Court. The king and his nobles each had their band of re tainers following, falconers bearing the perches and other apparatus of the sport ; foresters with hounds in the leash, rangers with their lords' bows and arrows and other im plements of the chase.

Sturdy yeomen were also there, carrying their goshawks, burghers with their nobbies, and at a respectful distance a motley throng of those who could but follow, to take a peep at the sports of their betters. A blithesome and numerous company they are, as they make Linlithgow's only street echo with their laughing, talking, and jesting, all eager for the friendly fray, by hill or forest-glade. Vicar Hepburn has gained his ambition in getting his rojal mistress interested in his conversation. They have reached the West Port, and he directs her attention to a sacred edifice on their right. Crossing himself, he explains : " This is the chapel of the holy St Ninian, your Grace. Heaven rest his soul. My lord the king finds special unction in his deeds of charity, and fond remede for his sins of youth in offerings made to this good saint."

The queen, turning to the king, calls his attention to the chapel. " An't please your Grace, this worthy friar tells me, my lord finds sacred comfort in his gifts to St Ninian. May hap the good saint will give us God's benison, an your Grace make request." The king, whose radiant countenance suddenly becomes grave and troubled, makes the rejoinder — " I'd as lief those knavish priests' kept quiet their troublous tongues, than thus essay to tyne our pleasure with their jargon. An't be something to give, thou may'st call thy priest ; an't be some thing to get, thou seek'st thy priest in vain. 'Tis an ill omen." " My lord the king is wise and good," rejoined the Vicar ; but in this thy choler thou dost the church a grievous wrong." "Your Grace will forgive me," pleaded the queen; "I deemed the good man's offices might be of some avail to aid our sports."

The truth was that the king had been gaily rallying the veteran warrior by his side on his determined opposition to the fashionable sport of hawking. Angus, with the grim sarcasm which suited his humour, was designating such a sport as only fit for English ladies and Scottish kinglets, when the un pleasant interruption which reminded James of his self-imposed penance broke in on his hilarity. No sooner, however, had he uttered the hasty words, than the iron belt which encircled his breast seemed tightening till it pierced his flesh, even as the anguish over his father's death had pierced his soul. Subdued and softened, he turned again to his companions. "Heed not my ill-faured words. They were said in haste. Perchance the saint may look on us with favour. Good Vicar, wilt thou say an ave for our souls 1 " " Ay, that I will, my lord ; for soul and body too, and safe return."

The incident had occupied but a few moments ; but in the interval the party had passed what is now known as " Katie Wearie's dub," and entered upon the Torphichen and Bathgate road. On the right and left lay the open country, the road being a mere track unfenced, and beaten hard with frequent traffic. On the right, to the north and west, the stubble fields showed where a frugal harvest of grain had been reaped by industrious yeomen. On the left, southwards, the ground was covered with a low undergrowth of brushwood, intersected with long ridges of thickly planted fir, ash, elm, and birch, with here and there clumps of majestic beeches, planes and chestnut trees. The ground sloped gradually, though by no means regularly, upwards towards Cockle-rue, the favourite rendezvous for such meetings as that on which the royal party was now bent.

Here numerous lords and vassals had already arrived from all parts of the surrounding country, gathered together by the royal command to engage in the royal sports. Their figures could be discerned quite clearly on the slopes of the hill, as they moved about in eager stir and bustle. One glance at the hill, with its crowds of animated pleasure seekers, caused a reaction in the bosom of the king, as sudden as the former changes in his mood. Casting off the gloomy thoughts that possessed him, all his gaiety returned. With a bound his steed had left the road, reached the grassy turf, and was heading for the hill. In an instant his retinue were along with him. Helter skelter they galloped over the rough heath and brushwood, ploughing their way through wild rose and bramble bushes, copse and brake, with which the surrounding plain was thickly covered.

At length a large open glade presented itself, and here, without further ceremony, the hawks were set upon their startled prey. The winged game, scared from their ambush, keep crossing and recrossing in front of the eager party. A grouse is started from the low covers, and skims along the top of the heather with an alarmed whirr. A hawk is unhooded, and, released, darts after the timid bird with lightning speed. Soon getting directly over it, for a second the falcon hovers on the wing, then pouncing upon its frail victim hurls it to the ground almost lifeless. A triumphant shout from the spectators greets this feat of dexterity, and, with the mingled din of sounding horns and jocund jest, the spirited company pursue the falconers, ranging the heathery moors where dwell the grouse and moor hen.

"So; well cast off; aloft, aloft ! well flown. Oh, now she takes her at the souse, and strikes her down to the earth like a thunder-clap." She hath struck ten ducats out of my way, A hundred merks from me." What, falconer ! " At hand, sir. Now hath she seized the fowl and begins to plume her." " My hawk killed too ; twenty good crowns she's brought me." " Aye, but 'twas at the guerre, not at the mount, like mine." " Judgment, my masters 1 " " Yours missed her at the ferre." " Aye, but our merlin first had plumed the fowl.' * Betting is by no means of modern origin, much as its prevalence is lamented in these days. There exists only too good evidence to show that it formed a considerable adjunct to the sports of the olden time. " Her bells, my lord, had not both one weight ; nor was one a semi-tone above the other."

"Methinks these Milan bells do sound too full, and spoil the mounting of your hawk." Harmoniously, the soft accents and merry laughter of the ladies mingle and blend with the deep sonorous tones and jovial banter of their lords, as they scour the moors and open ground for miles around. Nor is the sport confined to hawk and bells alone. The rangers, who had formed a huge circle covering miles of country, gradually close in on the hill as a common centre, driving before them the ground game of all sorts, startled from their lair by the keen scent of the setter and bratchet hound. Now the hare is started, and a greyhound, chafing in the impatient leash, is slipped on puss, who soon falls a prey. If haply he escapes the greyhound's jaws, it is to drop with an arrow in his side from the archers who are scattered through the greenwood.

Anon, a fox breaks cover, and the ready horsemen, with a blast of the horn and a tally-ho, are after him in full chase. From other parts of the wooded slopes, the wild red deer, the gentle roe, or kingly stag, fly startled into the very arms of their pursuers, or turn by devious paths to elude their assault. Even Angus is not disappointed in his quarry, for, after patient beating up, the dour and savage wild boar is driven from his dark cover, and alternately flies and faces his pursuers with varying fortune. The younger spirits of the party have their game of football on the hillside; the morris-dancers have their pole and ribbons ; leaping, vaulting, running, and other athletic sports are engaged in by those who have not the implements or the skill for field sports, or who do not care to face its dangers.

As the mid-day hour draws near, there is a slackening of the fierce whirl of athletic pleasure, and gradually the sporters gather in groups round selected centres where the early midday meal, considered an essential of the day's proceedings, is dealt out with no sparing hand. In an embowered nook of a bosky glade, the royal party are slowly gathering. Queen Margaret as hostess is charming all 'with her royal grace, her bright auburn tresses vying with the autumn-tinged leaves around her in doing homage to the enlivening rays of the October sun. With a merry smile, she greets each heated new comer, enquires " What sport 1 " and, as her guest relates his adventures, regales him with the dainties of the royal board. Gradually her smile becomes intermittent with an occasional anxious look, as each fresh arrival fails to bring to her her royal lord.

Misgiving deepens into anxiety, and anxiety into alarm. " Hast seen my lord 1 " Yea, your royal Grace, I saw him with the hounds." Where? When?" ' Athwart the Gyps. 'Twould be an hour agone." Ah ! Hast seen him, good Friar ? " " I saw him, fleet as the noble stag he chased, and as kingly. 'Twas within the hour." " Good Angus, what news of thy master ? " " Has he not arrived ? I had his royal partnery in the boar-hunt, but perchance it was not work to suit his humour ; he was not at the kill. Methought he turned to follow the stag." " Now makest thou my heart faint. The hunters of our party are all returned, yet he comes not. But here is one who brings his master's hat and horn, and says he saw naught else of royalty. Where is thy loyalty and love, that thou returnest alone in triumph." " Madam, thou upbraidest not wisely.

In the chase, as on the bloody field, our king is the especial care of all his noble lords. But, vex not thy soul and mine with idle words. Let's to the search, and, ere the night fall, we'll bring thee thy royal consort, be't hale in wind and limb, or maimed within an inch of life. Friar, thy queen claims thy regard, and Lyndsay see thou to the friar. Lennox, Huntly, Hamil ton, get your chosen bands, to scour the thickets 'twixt here and Cairn-napple, for the king. And let me pray you all to keep this secret till we know the worst, and put not sudden limit to the people's joy."

Chapter II Rob Gib

After an hour with the hawks, the king had called his falconer, and handed him his bird with strict injunctions to look well to it. After a trial with his bows and arrows, he ordered two of his favourite greyhounds to be brought to him that he might test their speed and skill. The coursing had not proceeded far, when the horn of the Douglas pro claimed that a boar had been started, and the king, ever eager to be where the excitement was strongest, joined in the chase. Pursuing a somewhat tortuous course the quarry worked his way gradually southwards towards Gormyre, the king with the rest of the company in hot pursuit. Everything went well, till at an opening of the thicket a stag with his head and antlers thrown back darted past like a lightning streak, followed close by a pack of yelping hounds.

The suddenness of the apparition, added to the previous excitement, startled the high mettled horse on which the king rode, and it dashed into another opening in the thicket where the king tried in vain to bring it back to the track of the boar hunters. Here it reared and plunged till its feet got entangled in some bramble runners which brought it to its knees. Digging his spurs into the animal's side, the king caused it to leap clear of the brushwood at a bound, but scarcely had it landed again, when a hare, with a brace of greyhounds ready to mouth it, crossed in front of the frenzied animal, which made another spring and then darted forward in a panic of fright. ROB GIB 17 Through the thicket it went, careering madly along, re gardless alike of the difficulties of the path and the admoni tions of the rein.

It was not long till the king became aware that his stirrup-strap had broken ; his rein had a like fate, a branch caught his hat and carried it off; another caught the silken cord that held his horn, and snapped it as with a vicious delight. Bare-headed and clinging for dear life to his now un manageable steed, the king reached the open, only to see before him one of those wide and deep ravines or water courses which are common in the district. The imminent danger of the moment pierced the king's consciousness like a barb of steel. Tugging at the single line of rein left him, the king endeavoured to divert the animal from its course, but all his efforts were vain. Calculating his chances of clearing the gully at a leap, he dismissed the thought with a sick feeling of hopelessness at his heart.

Looking round in a mechanical way for what he could scarcely hope would be succour, he failed to descry a single human being in sight. He could hear the tumult of dogs and horses and the shouts of men in the thickets before, behind, and around him, but the sounds seemed a mockery of his misery. Instinctively turning to look back, where he had left his fair queen and their happy party, the king became aware of a horseman pursuing him on a foaming steed, whose strides seemed to cover the soft turf as if the animal were borne on wings. A gleam of hope arose in his breast, and now he tried to calculate his chances of rescue. Could the horseman reach him before he reached the watercourse, or would they be precipitated together over its steep banks ? A few anxious moments ; as many anxious glances cast first behind, then before, as the three points of interest gradually drew nearer to each other.

But a final effort of the rear horse man brought him alongside of his captive ; a firm hand on B the rein of the runaway, a touch to his own mount, and in a moment the rescuer had turned both animals to the left. Not a moment too soon. They had reached the upper bank of the stream, and in another instant would have been dashed to pieces on the rocks below. They kept up the side of the stream a little way, till the horses' pace gradually slackened, and the men were able to get their breath. In the interval, they silently surveyed each other. The rescuer was a young man, tall and vigorous in appearance, but fair and ruddy, with long flaxen hair, which hung down from under his leather helm and floated in the breeze as he rode along. He was attired as a yeoman, but there was a courtly air about him not often possessed by men of his rank, nor were there wanting signs in his dress and general appearance to indicate efficiency in the field of battle, as well as in the cultivation of mother earth.

The stranger was the first to break the silence. " Your honour was in a gey hurry cutting across the brae." " There thou sayest truly. Give a man a horse or a devil for quick riding." " 'Twas no devil your honour rode, or by the same token, he would have had thy broken bones lying in the meadow burn by this time." " Thou sayest true. Yet have I thee to thank, my brave and noble youth, for promptly plucking me from the spite of this wayward piece of horse-flesh. Seems to me the shambles would be a fitting resting place for his carcase to-night." " Spare thy compliments, honoured sir, and speak with more respect of what belongs unto thy royal master. An' 'twere thine own, mayhap thou'd be content to have him broken a bit." "Again thou speak'st the truth, and I perceive thou knowest somewhat of the royal stud."

ROB GIB 19 " Ay, few there but know my caress." " Yet, do not I remember having seen thee at the stables." " That matters not ; but methinks a lord who rides one of the king's horses should better know how to manage his beast." " A just censure ; but are not the king's horses like his barons, whose end and purpose being to bear their king, seek rather to overbear him on occasion ? " " Now speakest thou like a wise man. Methought at a first glance thou hadst undertaken at thy king's command this day a task, less suited to thy tailoring than the tailoring of thy suit." " A brave jest ! " " But now do I see thou art no addle-pated courtier, but one of the king's wise counsellors. By that same, will I say, the horses have some excuse, the barons none. The horse does mischief to no ill intent, the lords because of ill intent of their own seeking.

Did they but serve their king for stark love and kindness, his light would not be their darkness." " Stark love and kindness ! There is but one man I have heard use these words." " They are those in which my father taught me my duty to the king." "Art thou then a son of Gib, my stirrup-man ? " " His only son, sire, Rob Gib. And art thou then King James ? " " Without a doubt, I was, when I left my palace this bright morning." "Then lay I my life at your Grace's feet, that thou may'st trample out my low-born insolence. I knew not your Majesty." " Nay, Rob, thou doest thyself an injustice. I encouraged thy banter, because it pleased me. Besides do I not owe my life to thee ? Tempt me not to ingratitude, but say that thou'lt give that life thou wouldst fling away so freely, to my service. Be my familiar attendant, so shall I be pleased and comforted, and thou honoured and rewarded as is thy due."

"Your Grace's will is mine henceforth. But see your stirrup-strap and rein ; I'll mend them in a second. Here is the house." " What ! Gib's ? " * " Yes, sire, pray but dismount, and in a trice I'll have thee rigged for the field again." "And so, my worthy liegeman, thou makest a most auspicious beginning to thy service." * There is reason to beheve that the old baronial house and estate now known as the " Kipps," was the original home of the Gibs, and like the neighbouring barony of Carribber took the family name which has since been corrupted. Both families were of Norman origin, and came to the district together towards the end of the eleventh century. They were afterwards united by marriage, and their descendants are still to be found in the neighbouring burgh of Linlithgow.

Chapter III Linlithgow

PALACE— THE WARNING Ten years have passed since the events recorded in the preceding chapters. The midsummer sun had slowly sought his rest, amid clouds of dazzling brilliance. The birds had toned down to a soft lullaby their enthusiastic vesper hymns. As the last chords of their mellow strains fall lingeringly on the solemn evening air, and gently re-echoing, are wafted on the wings of the wind to the ears of Queen Margaret, a shade flits over her brow, and she sighs. No wonder. Those notes recall a thousand memories to the heart of the royal lady, of joys that were too beautiful to last, visions that " Have fled away like the waning day, And left but a memory." Margaret sat in her favourite retreat in Linlithgow's stately palace — a little octagonal turret with loopholes look ing out in all directions, and a stone seat around the inside, while without an open spiral stair led to the summit.

She was gazing on the peaceful scene beneath, yet no tranquillity found a place in that wiidly heaving bosom. The bitter tears that fell from her eyes veiled the lovely vision that might have breathed peace to even as passion-racked a heart as hers. " Alas," she wailed, " I cannot banish the presentiment of evil that haunts me night and day. If he engage in battle, I know he shall return to me no more. Only death and captivity await Scotland." H She wiped away her tears, and rising, left the bower, murmuring, "Heaven be my succour to persuade thee, my husband, to abandon thy purpose." The Queen proceeded with firm steady step around the battlements. The serenity of the evening, and the beauty of her surroundings delighted her even amid her sorrow. The site of the palace is a peninsula, projecting almost into the middle of the loch, which seems to enclasp the princely dwelling in its arms, and adds greatly to its picturesque beauty.

The palace occupies about an acre of ground, and though heavy in its outward appearance, from the total absence of windows, is truly a noble pile. On the east side, at the head of a sweeping avenue lined with trees, rich in their fresh clustering leafage, is the grand gateway with the portcullis. East of it lie the gardens, laid off in artistic plots of ornamental flowers in the French style peculiar to the times. The palace, built of polished stone, consists of a hollow quadrangle, generally five storeys in height, with turrets at the corners. In the centre of the interior square is a fountain adorned with several statues, and so constructed as to throw high and beautiful jets of water. Above the grand entrance, surmounting a magnificent piazza, is the new Parliament Hall, just finished, but awaiting decoration, for which purpose foreign artists have been engaged.