Sir Robert Sibbald, eminent physician, geographer, natural historian, botanist and antiquary, was born in Edinburgh on the 15th of April, 1641.
Robert Sibbald had a decent list of achievements on which to report. With his favoured botanist’s hat on, he was responsible for establishing the first botanical garden in Edinburgh, along with his mate, Andrew Balfour. Wearing his physician’s robe, Sibbald was appointed first Professor of Medicine at Edinburgh University, in 1685, after playing a leading part in establishing the Royal College of Physicians in Edinburgh, four years previously. In addition, he was elected president of the Royal College, in 1684, and was Physician in Ordinary to Charles II and James VII. As a geographer, he became Cartographer Royal in Scotland for King Charles, from 1682. Furthermore, his numerous and miscellaneous writings deal with historical and antiquarian as well as geographical, botanical and medical subjects. A clever mannie, yon Sibbald.
Notwithstanding the variety of skills he displayed, Sibbald’s favourite pastime was the study of botany and he spent his spare time cultivating rare and exotic plants in the rural neighbourhood of Edinburgh. His reputation brought him to the attention of Charles II, who granted him a knighthood and appointed him his physician. Charles also commissioned him as Natural Historian and Geographer Royal for Scotland. So now he was a very busy clever mannie.
Sibbald’s commission from the King was to produce a natural history – combined with a geographical description – of Scotland. Sibbald’s intentions were to produce a two-volume work: ‘Scotia Antiqua’ to embrace the historical development of the Scottish nation, the customs of the people and their antiquities; and ‘Scotia Moderna’ to describe the country's resources on a county-by-county basis. In the event, these tasks were never fully completed. He published two ‘county histories’ – ‘A History Ancient and Modern of the Sheriffdoms of Fife and Kinross’ and ‘…the Sheriffdoms of Linlithgow and Stirling’. He also published a natural history, ‘Scotia Illustrata, sive Prodromus Historiae Naturalis Scotiae’, a learned and elaborate work on which he spent over twenty years.
Unsurprisingly, given his interest in botany, one section of his ‘Scotia Illustrata’ is devoted to the indigenous plants of Scotland, amongst which appear some rare species of wildflower. One of these was subsequently given the genus name ‘Sibbaldia’, by Linnaeus, in 1753, in honour of its discoverer. It is a member of the rose family, known as Creeping Sibbaldia. In 1694, Sibbald published a work, entitled ‘Observations on some Animals of the Whale genus lately thrown on the Shores of Scotland’. As a prize for the longest Zoology title of the year, the Blue Whale was named ‘Sibbaldus’, after him and commonly referred to as ‘Sibbald’s Rorqual’.
In his role as Cartographer Royal and with funding from the Scots Parliament and the Privy Council, Sibbald made it his business to accumulate a massive collection of extant maps and manuscripts. He appointed John Adair to survey new maps and circulated questionnaires to a number of credible respondents within Scotland. It’s also important to note that Sibbald based much of his cartographical studies on the maps and texts of Timothy Pont. Summing up his labours in 1707, after several decades of collecting, Sibbald wrote to Robert Woodrow, the Librarian of the University of Glasgow, saying, “I have been more as these threttie [thirty] years past preparing the Geographicall descriptions of this country.”
Sibbald went on to state that he had “all the originall maps and surveys and descriptions of Mr. Pont, the Gordons and others …and severall mapps never printed.” A key source was the Reverend Mr. James Gordon, Parson of Rothemay, who sent Sibbald “all the papers relating to the description of Scotland he had, viz all Timothee Ponts papers originall & [tho]se he had transcraved.” Sibbald acknowledged his debt to Pont and modern scholars of Pont should acknowledge the debt owed to Sibbald, who played a vital role in securing that remarkable body of work for posterity.
Robert Sibbald was born in Edinburgh on the 15th of April, 1641, however, in 1645, the family fled to Linlithgow, to avoid the plague. Robert was educated initially in Cupar, but he soon made it back to Edinburgh to further his education. He attended first, the famous High School and thereafter, amongst other subjects, he studied philosophy and languages at the University of Edinburgh. Not content with that little lot, Sibbald went on the Universities of Leiden (Leyden) and Paris. After that, concluding in 1662, he took his doctor’s degree at the University of Angers. Giving a hint as to his priorities, his inaugural dissertation was entitled, ‘De Variis Speciebus’. Soon afterwards, he was back in Edinburgh, working as a physician, where he came to the attention of the King.
In late 17th Century Scotland there was a sizeable community, which Sibbald belonged to, that kept up to date with European developments in history science and philosophy. These guys were laying much of the foundation for the Scottish Enlightenment and Sir Robert Sibblad was prominent amongst them. He attempted to organise a learned Royal Society of Scotland modelled upon others in Europe, including London's Royal Society. His dream wasn’t realised, but the academic ideals, which he advocated, came to fruition in the Philosophical Society of Edinburgh, the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.
In 1704, Sibbald also published a book entitled, ‘The Liberty and Independency of the Kingdom and Church of Scotland asserted from Ancient Records’. On the subject of his own religious convictions, Munk’s Roll contains an interesting item. Brought up as a Protestant in the Kirk, Sibbald lived a life of philosophical virtue, but was unsure about the nature of his religious leanings. He was persuaded, by the Earl of Perth, to convert to the Catholic faith. Unsettled over how he had succumbed to persuasion, and after spending time in London attending a theology class, he turned again. Back in Scotland, he openly repented and returned to the communion of the Kirk. This religious ‘versatility’ of his led to his work being sarcastically criticised by the Jacobite physician Archibald Pitcairne.
Amongst Sibbald’s other historical and antiquarian works, we can mention: ‘An Account of the Scottish Atlas’ (1683); ‘Description of the Isles of Orkney and Shetland (Zetland)’ (1711); ‘Historical Inquiries concerning the Roman Monuments and Antiquities in the North part of Britain called Scotland’ (1707); and ‘Vindiciæ Prodromi Naturalis Historiæ Scotiæ’ (1710). He was gey fond of lang-winded titles, was oor Sibbald. Robert Sibbald died in August of 1712.
Friday, 15 April 2011
Thursday, 14 April 2011
James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell
James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell, Duke of Orkney and Shetland, and third husband of Mary, Queen of Scots, died on the 14th April, 1578.
Bothwell was one of the most colourful figures in Scottish history, succeeding his father as Earl of Bothwell and hereditary Lord High Admiral of Scotland. He was implicated in the murder of Henry, Lord Darnley, Mary, Queen of Scots’ second husband. He was said to be a womaniser, but surely not by the standards of the day, when illegitimacy was rife amongst the nobility. However, perceived wisdom surrounding his marrying Mary does appear the stuff of bodice ripping fiction. He was also ambitious, with his fair share of rivals in an age of intrigue and counter plotting, which is probably why history has judged him so harshly, being ultimately on a losing side. He should be viewed as neither good nor bad; a man of his time.
Although he was formally a Protestant, Bothwell was not rabid, like John Knox, and supported the Catholic Regent, Mary of Guise. Whatever else can be said of him, we surely can’t question his loyalty and zeal in the nation’s cause. Throughout his life, he was at odds with many of his fellow nobles in Scotland, many of whom were more concerned with their own fortunes, rather than Scotland’s. James’ father had his moments of disloyalty and was forgiving of the English for the ‘rough wooing’ of the child Mary. Both these circumstances likely contributed to Bothwell’s unforgiving, anti-English stance.
Regent Mary’s judgement was suspect, giving too many key positions to French Catholic officials. This led to the formation of the Band of the Congregation of the Lord, where a group of earls and lairds, including the Earl of Argyll, entered into a Covenant to support the Reformation and oppose Catholicism. Whatever your opinion on the rights and wrongs betwixt either side in a religious context, the Lords’ actions amounted to treason. Trouble was, several of these ‘traitors’, particularly Argyll, were trusted by the Regent Mary, as was Bothwell, whom she appointed Lieutenant of the Border.
Raids by and against the English were commonplace and, after Mary Tudor died, Elizabeth I attempted to secure peace, initiating talks. However, Bothwell had good reason to be suspicious and procrastinated on the Scots’ behalf. These suspicions were realised when an English instigated Protestant uprising, allied to the ‘Congregation’, managed to formally remove the Regent Mary from power, in Ocotber, 1559. Shortly after, Bothwell managed to successfully foil a shipment of ‘blood money’ on route to the rebellious Lords, depriving them of funds and exposing the English Queen’s treachery.
After that, in 1560, he was despatched Mary of Guise on a mission to her daughter’s court in France – she was at that time, Queen of France, in addition to being Queen of Scots, which is why the Regency existed beyond her minority, of course. On his way to France, Bothwell paid a visit to Denmark, which was to prove significant, albeit much later. In Copenhagen, he met and seduced Anna Trond Rustung. He became engaged, perhaps married, to this lady and was given a huge dowry by her father, the Norwegian Admiral. Anna accompanied him on his journey, but only as far as Holland, where he abandoned her, retaining the dowry, like a good villain should.
After the return of Mary, Queen of Scots, from France, in 1561, the loyal Bothwell was amongst her advisers and a member of the Privy Council. Nevertheless, in 1562, he was accused, by the Earl of Arran, of plotting to kidnap her. The entire history of this period is one of plot and counter plot, imprisonment and escape, betrayal and reconciliation. Here’s a summary of Bothwell’s next several years: he was imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle, escaped, headed for France, captured by the English, held in the Tower, released and reached France, before being recalled by Mary who wanted him to suppress a revolt by her half brother, the powerful Earl of Moray and Bothwell’s nemesis. Who exactly, were the traitors in all this, I wonder?
By this time Mary was married to the unfortunate Lord Darnley and Bothwell to Jean Gordon, sister of the Earl of Huntly. Bothwell was now Mary's closest adviser and hints of a relationship were beginning to show. However, as Mary was pregnant at the time of the murder of her secretary, ‘Fiddler Davie’ Rizzio, we can discount Bothwell as a possible father to the future James VI in lieu of a cuckolded Darnley. Who knows, maybe it was Rizzio.
Then, in February, 1567, Lord Darnley, was murdered. Most Scots at the time believed that Bothwell was responsible and he was put on trial in Edinburgh, however, he was acquitted. The plot to kill Darnley was known as the Craigmillar Bond and it is usually said that it was signed by Huntly, Argyll, Maitland, Bothwell, Balfour, and Morton. This bond has not survived and its existence relies on the testimony of two men, extracted under torture and since discredited. I think we can safely say that Bothwell signed no such bond.
In April, 1567, Bothwell proposed marriage to Mary, despite being still married to Jean Gordon. At first, Mary refused. Undettered, Bothwell kidnapped her and took her to Dunbar Castle. As Mary later stated that she was an unwilling participant, it is assumed that Bothwell raped her. However, that doesn’t square with rumours of their imitate relationship and Mary is on record as declaring, "that she cares not to lose France, England and her own country for him and will go with him to the world's end in a white petticoat". Detractors can’t have it both ways. Whatever happened, they agreed to marry and Bothwell sorted out a divorce from Jean, in May, on the grounds of his adultery with her servant, Bessie Crawford. Bothwell and Mary were married in May, 1567, and then fled to Dunbar Castle to avoid the scandal.
The beginning of the end for both Mary and Bothwell came when they were confronted by the dissident Scottish Nobles and an army at Carberry Hill, in June, 1567. Mary surrendered and Bothwell made his escape, intending to raise support for Mary. However, he ended up fleeing to his Dukedom of Orkney and Shetland, on to Norway and finally, back to Denmark. On route, he was apprehended on behalf of the jilted Anna Trond Rustung, whom this time he had to repay.
After Mary’s imprisonment in England, Bothwell lost the good faith of the Danish King and was locked up in the castle of Dragsholm. Here, in solitary confinement and dreary inactivity, the full-blooded, energetic Bothwell succumbed to insanity and died on the 14th of April 1578. He was buried at the church of Faarevejle.
Bothwell was one of the most colourful figures in Scottish history, succeeding his father as Earl of Bothwell and hereditary Lord High Admiral of Scotland. He was implicated in the murder of Henry, Lord Darnley, Mary, Queen of Scots’ second husband. He was said to be a womaniser, but surely not by the standards of the day, when illegitimacy was rife amongst the nobility. However, perceived wisdom surrounding his marrying Mary does appear the stuff of bodice ripping fiction. He was also ambitious, with his fair share of rivals in an age of intrigue and counter plotting, which is probably why history has judged him so harshly, being ultimately on a losing side. He should be viewed as neither good nor bad; a man of his time.
Although he was formally a Protestant, Bothwell was not rabid, like John Knox, and supported the Catholic Regent, Mary of Guise. Whatever else can be said of him, we surely can’t question his loyalty and zeal in the nation’s cause. Throughout his life, he was at odds with many of his fellow nobles in Scotland, many of whom were more concerned with their own fortunes, rather than Scotland’s. James’ father had his moments of disloyalty and was forgiving of the English for the ‘rough wooing’ of the child Mary. Both these circumstances likely contributed to Bothwell’s unforgiving, anti-English stance.
Regent Mary’s judgement was suspect, giving too many key positions to French Catholic officials. This led to the formation of the Band of the Congregation of the Lord, where a group of earls and lairds, including the Earl of Argyll, entered into a Covenant to support the Reformation and oppose Catholicism. Whatever your opinion on the rights and wrongs betwixt either side in a religious context, the Lords’ actions amounted to treason. Trouble was, several of these ‘traitors’, particularly Argyll, were trusted by the Regent Mary, as was Bothwell, whom she appointed Lieutenant of the Border.
Raids by and against the English were commonplace and, after Mary Tudor died, Elizabeth I attempted to secure peace, initiating talks. However, Bothwell had good reason to be suspicious and procrastinated on the Scots’ behalf. These suspicions were realised when an English instigated Protestant uprising, allied to the ‘Congregation’, managed to formally remove the Regent Mary from power, in Ocotber, 1559. Shortly after, Bothwell managed to successfully foil a shipment of ‘blood money’ on route to the rebellious Lords, depriving them of funds and exposing the English Queen’s treachery.
After that, in 1560, he was despatched Mary of Guise on a mission to her daughter’s court in France – she was at that time, Queen of France, in addition to being Queen of Scots, which is why the Regency existed beyond her minority, of course. On his way to France, Bothwell paid a visit to Denmark, which was to prove significant, albeit much later. In Copenhagen, he met and seduced Anna Trond Rustung. He became engaged, perhaps married, to this lady and was given a huge dowry by her father, the Norwegian Admiral. Anna accompanied him on his journey, but only as far as Holland, where he abandoned her, retaining the dowry, like a good villain should.
After the return of Mary, Queen of Scots, from France, in 1561, the loyal Bothwell was amongst her advisers and a member of the Privy Council. Nevertheless, in 1562, he was accused, by the Earl of Arran, of plotting to kidnap her. The entire history of this period is one of plot and counter plot, imprisonment and escape, betrayal and reconciliation. Here’s a summary of Bothwell’s next several years: he was imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle, escaped, headed for France, captured by the English, held in the Tower, released and reached France, before being recalled by Mary who wanted him to suppress a revolt by her half brother, the powerful Earl of Moray and Bothwell’s nemesis. Who exactly, were the traitors in all this, I wonder?
By this time Mary was married to the unfortunate Lord Darnley and Bothwell to Jean Gordon, sister of the Earl of Huntly. Bothwell was now Mary's closest adviser and hints of a relationship were beginning to show. However, as Mary was pregnant at the time of the murder of her secretary, ‘Fiddler Davie’ Rizzio, we can discount Bothwell as a possible father to the future James VI in lieu of a cuckolded Darnley. Who knows, maybe it was Rizzio.
Then, in February, 1567, Lord Darnley, was murdered. Most Scots at the time believed that Bothwell was responsible and he was put on trial in Edinburgh, however, he was acquitted. The plot to kill Darnley was known as the Craigmillar Bond and it is usually said that it was signed by Huntly, Argyll, Maitland, Bothwell, Balfour, and Morton. This bond has not survived and its existence relies on the testimony of two men, extracted under torture and since discredited. I think we can safely say that Bothwell signed no such bond.
In April, 1567, Bothwell proposed marriage to Mary, despite being still married to Jean Gordon. At first, Mary refused. Undettered, Bothwell kidnapped her and took her to Dunbar Castle. As Mary later stated that she was an unwilling participant, it is assumed that Bothwell raped her. However, that doesn’t square with rumours of their imitate relationship and Mary is on record as declaring, "that she cares not to lose France, England and her own country for him and will go with him to the world's end in a white petticoat". Detractors can’t have it both ways. Whatever happened, they agreed to marry and Bothwell sorted out a divorce from Jean, in May, on the grounds of his adultery with her servant, Bessie Crawford. Bothwell and Mary were married in May, 1567, and then fled to Dunbar Castle to avoid the scandal.
The beginning of the end for both Mary and Bothwell came when they were confronted by the dissident Scottish Nobles and an army at Carberry Hill, in June, 1567. Mary surrendered and Bothwell made his escape, intending to raise support for Mary. However, he ended up fleeing to his Dukedom of Orkney and Shetland, on to Norway and finally, back to Denmark. On route, he was apprehended on behalf of the jilted Anna Trond Rustung, whom this time he had to repay.
After Mary’s imprisonment in England, Bothwell lost the good faith of the Danish King and was locked up in the castle of Dragsholm. Here, in solitary confinement and dreary inactivity, the full-blooded, energetic Bothwell succumbed to insanity and died on the 14th of April 1578. He was buried at the church of Faarevejle.
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Hugh Clapperton
Hugh Clapperton, the Scottish explorer of Africa, died on the 13th of April, 1827.
Hugh Clapperton is best remembered as a naval officer turned African explorer of what is now northern Nigeria. He was the first European to chart every degree of latitude between the Mediterranean and the Gulf of Guinea, and his discoveries led directly to the opening of sustained European contact with an important region of sub-Saharan Africa. Clapperton also reached the Niger River in an effort to solve the mystery of that river's course and terminal point. The greater part of his remarkable journeys was made on horseback. Undoubtedly, Hugh Clapperton, or ‘Clappers’ as he would’ve been called today, if not back in the day, was a real life adventure hero, whose story would make a great movie. You can just imagine the dialogue. “I say, Clappers, bit of a rum do this jungle, what!” Of course, he should’ve been portrayed by Kirriemuir’s David Niven, but surely Gerard Butler would make a good job of it today.
Hugh Clapperton was born in Annan on the 18th of May, 1788, and at the age of seventeen, he was bound apprentice on the ‘Postlethwaite’, of Maryport. Some time later, he was caught with a few pounds of illicit rock salt (an expensive commodity back then) and given the choice between jail and the Navy. Clapperton chose the later, rising to the rank of midshipman and seeing active service during the Napoleonic Wars. At the storming of Port Louis, Mauritius, in November, 1810, in true Errol Flynn style, he was first in the breach and hauled down the French flag. That was Clappers, the naval hero.
After promotion to Lieutenant and service in Canada, Clapperton returned to Scotland, where by chance he met Walter Oudney, who was to lead a British Government exploration to West Africa. The meeting stirred in Clapperton a desire to visit Africa and he volunteered to join the expedition. The Mission began in 1822 and after a sojourn in Fezzan, it crossed the Sahara to Borno, accompanied by a military escort of 210 mounted Arab tribesmen provided by the Pasha of Tripoli. In February, 1823, they arrived at Lake Chad – the first Europeans to do so. During the trip, Denham went of on his own, leaving Clapperton and Oudney to head west, toward the Niger River. Poor Oudney died in January, 1824, and, later in that year, Clapperton went on alone to become the first European to travel across the ancient commercial states of Hausaland to Sokoto, the capital of the most important empire in the central Sudan at the time. That was Clappers, the intrepid hero.
At Sokoto, the Fulani Sultan, Muhammed Bello, disastrously refused to allow Clapperton to continue on to the Niger, which was only 150 miles, or five days’ journey, to the west. So near, yet so far. Nevertheless, the Sultan was friendly and expressed interest in developing trade with Britain. Clapperton and Denham met up again near Lake Chad and returned to England, via a harassing journey across the Sahara to Tripoli and on to Italy, almost three years after they had first set foot in Africa. Back in Blighty, our man Clapperton was promoted to the rank of commander. Three short months later, he went back to West Africa, where he headed inland, intending to establish diplomatic and trade relations with the Sultan of Sokoto. That was Clappers, the non-quitting hero.
Clapperton was determined to find the source of the Niger and started overland for the river in December, 1825, having with him his servant, Richard Lemon Lander, a Captain Pearce, and Dr. Morrison, navy surgeon and naturalist. Tragically, before the month was out Pearce and Morrison were dead of fever. Clapperton continued his journey and, passing through what is now western Nigeria, in January, 1826, he crossed the River Niger near Bussa, where another Scot, Mungo Park, had died twenty years before. In July, he arrived at Kano and from there carried on to the Sokoto Caliphate, intending to proceed to Bornu. However, his plans were frustrated because Bello had engaged in a war with the Shiekh of Bornu. That was Clappers, the frustrated hero.
Unfortunately, during his earlier visit, Clapperton had presented the Shiekh with several Congreve rockets, which he had employed against some of the Sultan’s towns. In addition, to add insult to injury, Clapperton bore some presents from the King to the Shiekh. Not surprisingly, the Sultan became jealous, duly confiscated the presents and detained Clapperton for several months. Sadly, during his enforced sojourn with the Sultan, Hugh Clapperton became ill and, despite the brave attentions of Lander, succumbed to dysentery, on the 13th of April, 1827. By the permission of Sultan Bello, Clapperton was buried at Jungavie, about five miles south-east of Soccatoo, in the Fulani Empire. So that was that for Clappers, the dead hero.
It is perhaps interesting to note how certain incidents in a man’s life can contrive to shape his destiny. The question was posed in his biography, “Where Clapperton’s laurels, his glory, his defiance in the face of danger and death, his place in the annals of Exploration, but for a few pounds of salt?” Though he was denied the opportunity of further exploration, Clapperton seems to have established at least to his own satisfaction that the final course of the Niger led to the Bight of Benin. In a later expedition, his loyal servant, Richard Lander, went on to prove that as fact.
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
The Scottish National Party
The Scottish National Party won its first electoral victory on the 12th of April, 1945.
In a local by-election, Dr. Robert D. MacIntyre won the Motherwell and Wishaw seat for the Scottish National Party (SNP), in a straight fight against the Labour Party, by a majority of 617 votes. He took 51.4% of the vote on that occasion, but lost the seat at the next general election. It was twenty-one years before the next SNP MP was elected.
The SNP has had its ‘bravehearts’ – those who toiled for Scotland in the wilderness years and sacrificed their energies for the cause. One of those was surely Dr. Robert D. McIntyre, known to the Party as ‘Doc Mac’ and regarded as the ‘father’ of the SNP. Not only did he have the distinction of being the Party’s first MP, McIntyre was its Chairman between 1948 and 1956 and President from 1958 until 1980. During the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s, McIntyre built up the SNP throughout Scotland, standing as a parliamentary candidate in every General Election from 1945 to 1974 and in a by-election in 1971; a grand total of thirteen times. He later became Provost of Stirling.
McIntyre was instrumental in encouraging others, such as Winifred Ewing, to stand as candidates. Amongst several other notable SNP MPs, we can list Ian Hamilton, of Stone of Destiny fame, Donald Stewart, Margo MacDonald, and Alex Salmond, the current Party Leader and Scotland’s First Minister.
In 1953, Ian Hamilton, together with John MacCormick, was involved in a legal challenge to the right of the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth to style herself Elizabeth II, Queen of Scots. When she was, you see, merely the first Elizabeth to be Queen of Scots. The court case was lost, but the logical argument was won. This led to the SNP gaining a great deal of popular support. Hamilton and MacCormick also achieved an important moral victory when the Court of Session stated that, “the principle of limited sovereignty of Parliament is a distinctively English principle, which has no counterpart in Scottish constitutional law.”
Winnie Ewing’s first political speech was given in McIntyre’s constituency and this led to her being put forward for the Hamilton by-election. That led to the SNP’s next electoral breakthrough, in November, 1967, when Winnie Ewing won a famous victory at that by-election. She had an electrifying effect on Scottish politics during her three years in the Westminster Parliament. Subsequently, she represented the Highlands and Islands constituency in the European Parliament, where she is known as ‘Madame Ecosse’. She was elected to the Scottish Parliament for the Highlands and Islands region, in 1999. When the new Parliament met for the first time, on the 12th of May, 1999, it was given to Winnie, as the oldest member present, to open the proceedings. She did so with the words, “The Scottish Parliament, adjourned on the 25th of March, 1707, is hereby reconvened.”
In the 1970 General Election, the SNP fielded a record sixty-five candidates, polling 11.4% of the overall vote. Although it lost Hamilton, the Party scored a significant victory when Donald James Stewart was elected MP for the Western Isles. He became the SNP’s first ever MP returned at a general election and as his was the last declared result in that election, his success gained tremendous media attention. Thereafter, Stewart served as an MP until 1982, when he became President of the SNP, until 1987. It was Stewart who famously described the SNP as a “radical party, with a revolutionary aim.”
Stewart’s success was followed, in 1973, by another sensational by-election victory when Margo MacDonald took Glasgow Govan, with a huge swing from Labour, to join her colleague at Westminster. MacDonald was a committed and vocal supporter of Scottish independence, but she was also a political left-winger and surely, that helped her to win over what had been a Labour stronghold. At the February 1974 general election, Stewart was joined by six other SNP MPs, and at the October 1974 general election, the number increased to eleven. However, MacDonald failed to retain her seat in the February 1974 election, but she did become Deputy Leader of the SNP that year; a post she held until 1979. In 1983, MacDonald left the SNP, but returned in 1999, when she was elected to the Scottish Parliament, representing the Lothians. Later, she fell out with the leadership and was expelled in January, 2003, only to stand for and win a seat as an independent MSP at the 2003 Scottish Parliament election. She won her seat again in 2007.
The SNP is a democratic, left-of-centre, political party committed to Scottish independence, which has been at the forefront of the campaign for Scottish self-determination for almost seventy years. Its origins can be traced back to several organisations advocating Home Rule in the 1920s and ‘30s. The Scots National League was formed, in 1921, and the Glasgow University Scottish Nationalist Association was formed by John MacCormick, in 1927. In 1928, these two combined with the Scottish National Movement, to form the National Party of Scotland. In 1934, the National Party amalgamated with the Scottish Party, to form the Scottish National Party.
The SNP’s position in Scotland dramatically changed, in 2007, when it ended fifty years of Labour dominance and the eight-year Liberal-Labour coalition, by winning 47 (of 129) seats in the third election. It became the largest party, without an overwhelming majority, and consequently formed a minority administration. Apart from its commitment to an independent Scotland becoming a full member of the European Union, the SNP’s policies include commendable commitments to unilateral nuclear disarmament, progressive personal taxation, the eradication of poverty, and free state education.
In a local by-election, Dr. Robert D. MacIntyre won the Motherwell and Wishaw seat for the Scottish National Party (SNP), in a straight fight against the Labour Party, by a majority of 617 votes. He took 51.4% of the vote on that occasion, but lost the seat at the next general election. It was twenty-one years before the next SNP MP was elected.
The SNP has had its ‘bravehearts’ – those who toiled for Scotland in the wilderness years and sacrificed their energies for the cause. One of those was surely Dr. Robert D. McIntyre, known to the Party as ‘Doc Mac’ and regarded as the ‘father’ of the SNP. Not only did he have the distinction of being the Party’s first MP, McIntyre was its Chairman between 1948 and 1956 and President from 1958 until 1980. During the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s, McIntyre built up the SNP throughout Scotland, standing as a parliamentary candidate in every General Election from 1945 to 1974 and in a by-election in 1971; a grand total of thirteen times. He later became Provost of Stirling.
McIntyre was instrumental in encouraging others, such as Winifred Ewing, to stand as candidates. Amongst several other notable SNP MPs, we can list Ian Hamilton, of Stone of Destiny fame, Donald Stewart, Margo MacDonald, and Alex Salmond, the current Party Leader and Scotland’s First Minister.
In 1953, Ian Hamilton, together with John MacCormick, was involved in a legal challenge to the right of the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth to style herself Elizabeth II, Queen of Scots. When she was, you see, merely the first Elizabeth to be Queen of Scots. The court case was lost, but the logical argument was won. This led to the SNP gaining a great deal of popular support. Hamilton and MacCormick also achieved an important moral victory when the Court of Session stated that, “the principle of limited sovereignty of Parliament is a distinctively English principle, which has no counterpart in Scottish constitutional law.”
Winnie Ewing’s first political speech was given in McIntyre’s constituency and this led to her being put forward for the Hamilton by-election. That led to the SNP’s next electoral breakthrough, in November, 1967, when Winnie Ewing won a famous victory at that by-election. She had an electrifying effect on Scottish politics during her three years in the Westminster Parliament. Subsequently, she represented the Highlands and Islands constituency in the European Parliament, where she is known as ‘Madame Ecosse’. She was elected to the Scottish Parliament for the Highlands and Islands region, in 1999. When the new Parliament met for the first time, on the 12th of May, 1999, it was given to Winnie, as the oldest member present, to open the proceedings. She did so with the words, “The Scottish Parliament, adjourned on the 25th of March, 1707, is hereby reconvened.”
In the 1970 General Election, the SNP fielded a record sixty-five candidates, polling 11.4% of the overall vote. Although it lost Hamilton, the Party scored a significant victory when Donald James Stewart was elected MP for the Western Isles. He became the SNP’s first ever MP returned at a general election and as his was the last declared result in that election, his success gained tremendous media attention. Thereafter, Stewart served as an MP until 1982, when he became President of the SNP, until 1987. It was Stewart who famously described the SNP as a “radical party, with a revolutionary aim.”
Stewart’s success was followed, in 1973, by another sensational by-election victory when Margo MacDonald took Glasgow Govan, with a huge swing from Labour, to join her colleague at Westminster. MacDonald was a committed and vocal supporter of Scottish independence, but she was also a political left-winger and surely, that helped her to win over what had been a Labour stronghold. At the February 1974 general election, Stewart was joined by six other SNP MPs, and at the October 1974 general election, the number increased to eleven. However, MacDonald failed to retain her seat in the February 1974 election, but she did become Deputy Leader of the SNP that year; a post she held until 1979. In 1983, MacDonald left the SNP, but returned in 1999, when she was elected to the Scottish Parliament, representing the Lothians. Later, she fell out with the leadership and was expelled in January, 2003, only to stand for and win a seat as an independent MSP at the 2003 Scottish Parliament election. She won her seat again in 2007.
The SNP is a democratic, left-of-centre, political party committed to Scottish independence, which has been at the forefront of the campaign for Scottish self-determination for almost seventy years. Its origins can be traced back to several organisations advocating Home Rule in the 1920s and ‘30s. The Scots National League was formed, in 1921, and the Glasgow University Scottish Nationalist Association was formed by John MacCormick, in 1927. In 1928, these two combined with the Scottish National Movement, to form the National Party of Scotland. In 1934, the National Party amalgamated with the Scottish Party, to form the Scottish National Party.
The SNP’s position in Scotland dramatically changed, in 2007, when it ended fifty years of Labour dominance and the eight-year Liberal-Labour coalition, by winning 47 (of 129) seats in the third election. It became the largest party, without an overwhelming majority, and consequently formed a minority administration. Apart from its commitment to an independent Scotland becoming a full member of the European Union, the SNP’s policies include commendable commitments to unilateral nuclear disarmament, progressive personal taxation, the eradication of poverty, and free state education.
Sunday, 10 April 2011
John Galt
John Galt, the Scottish novelist, died on the 11th of April, 1839.
John Galt was Samuel Coleridge’s favourite novelist, which is as good a recommendation as any. Perhaps Galt’s greatest novel is ‘Annals of the Parish’, which is on the list of the ‘100 Best Scottish Books of all Time’ and certainly deserving of Coleridge’s praise. Galt’s greatest skills as a writer stemmed from acute observations of human psychology, a philosophical approach to history, and his ability to faithfully reproduce an authentic and distinctly Scottish voice. Quite often, Galt used the Scots tongue for dialogue and sometimes even for narrative. He saw the Scots as having a distinct advantage over their English cousins in terms of vocabulary – after all, they had both English and native Scots upon which to draw. A great achievement of Galt’s lies in his retelling of Scotland’s history, in the period between 1760 and 1820, through a series of thirteen innovative and very entertaining novels. Those were known collectively as the ‘Tales of the West’ and offer an all-embracing view of life in Scotland at the time – a human history.
Galt began writing around the age of twenty-four, experimenting in verse before realising, like many of us, that he was really an inferior poet. In 1813, he conceived the idea of writing a novel based on the observations of a parish minister. At first, he could find no enlightened publisher that would accept a book set in the west of Scotland. However, once Sir Walter Scott entered the scene and transformed Scottish literature, Galt found an outlet for his ‘Scottish stories’. Once published, there was no holding him back.
Galt called his first stories, quite appropriately, his ‘theoretical histories’. They were written in the 1820s and the first of them, ‘The Ayrshire Legates’ was serialised in Blackwood’s Magazine, in 1820-21. Galt’s voluminous output includes: ‘The Steamboat’; ‘Annals of the Parish’; ‘Sir Andrew Wylie’; ‘The Gathering of the West’; ‘The Provost’; ‘The Entail’; ‘Ringan Gilhaize’; ‘The Last of the Lairds’; and the ironic political novels, ‘The Member’; and ‘The Radical’, which were both published much later in his career. In addition to being a star contributor to Blackwood’s Magazine, Galt also wrote an acclaimed biography of his friend Lord Byron, whom he had met whilst travelling on the Mediterranean in 1809. Galt’s ‘The Life of Byron’ (that’s By-ron, not Brian) was published in1830; the first biography of the poet.
John Galt was born in Irvine on the 2nd of May, 1779. John received his early education at Irvine and Greenock, and found his first employment as a clerk in a mercantile office. In 1804, Galt trotted off to London, where he published anonymously and advisedly so, a poem called ‘The Battle of Largs’. In London, Galt made unsuccessful attempts to succeed in business and also entered Lincoln’s Inn, but never made it to the bar. Thirsty then, he obtained a commission to investigate whether Napoleon’s Berlin and Milan decrees could be evaded. Those decrees of Bonaparte’s were part of the diminutive dictator’s continental system; his plan to defeat the British by waging economic warfare. Galt was also employed by the Glasgow merchant, Kirkman Finlay, on similar business, probing for cracks in the Bonaparte regime and it was during his time on the Continent that Galt met and travelled with Byron.
Much of Galt’s fiction draws from the west of Scotland where he spent his youth. It appears he was a sickly child and spent much of his time soaking up local and traditional tales. Such apparent idleness was well spent as he developed his gift for storytelling and ear for regional dialect. Some of his later novels were set in North America, of which he had personal experience, and were amongst the first to be located there. Despite critical literary success, Galt also had business aspirations and a profound desire to go to Canada. After becoming actively involved in political campaigning on behalf of the colony, off he sailed, in 1826. For two years, he devoted himself to developing the virgin territories of the colony, founding the townships of Guelph and Goderich. Unfortunately, he fell foul of bureaucracy and eventually he had to return to the United Kingdom, which he did in 1829, under charges of debt. He was imprisoned for a while, but afterwards, he happily returned to writing and the aforementioned political novels, drawing on his experiences – from a rich and varied well.
‘The Annals’ is Galt’s masterpiece of small-town Scottish life, an insightful character portrait and a wonderful, humorous observation of social change, coloured by local trivia. It is described in a review of the ‘100 Best Scottish Books of all Time’ as “more beautifully coloured than anything by Walter Scott.” The story is narrated by the simple, if rather worldly and vain, Reverend Micah Balwhidder, a Presbyterian minister in the Ayrshire town of Dalmailing. It spans the time of Burns and the Industrial Revolution, and charts this turbulent period of economic and social change through a rare vernacular beauty. Its characters, such as Mr Macskipnish, the owner of the dance school at Irville, are reminiscent of Dickens – except Galt was a predecessor.
If history was taught in schools by making pupils read books like ‘The Annals’ they wouldn’t find topics like the industrial revolution so dull an uninteresting. When you think about it, history is happening as we speak, and that’s the beauty of the book, history unfolds as the characters tell their stories. The combination of historical accuracy alongside sociological insight led Galt’s contemporary critic, John Wilson, to say, “(it was) not a book but a fact” – quite a compliment for a novel.
Another book worth looking up is ‘Ringan Gilhaize’, which was described by Sir George Douglas as “a neglected masterpiece”. In this novel, Galt addressed the psychology of the Scottish race and the tragedy of its then recent history involving the likes of the Covenanters. It deals with the themes of community, loyalty, religious and legal justice and violence as a begetter of violence. Those themes, which are just as prevalent and topical today, show that history continues to repeat itself; we just have a different technological and economic environment in which to play them out.
In his later years, Galt suffered a stroke, but he continued writing up until his death, which occurred on the 11th of April, 1839. He was buried in Greenock.
John Galt was Samuel Coleridge’s favourite novelist, which is as good a recommendation as any. Perhaps Galt’s greatest novel is ‘Annals of the Parish’, which is on the list of the ‘100 Best Scottish Books of all Time’ and certainly deserving of Coleridge’s praise. Galt’s greatest skills as a writer stemmed from acute observations of human psychology, a philosophical approach to history, and his ability to faithfully reproduce an authentic and distinctly Scottish voice. Quite often, Galt used the Scots tongue for dialogue and sometimes even for narrative. He saw the Scots as having a distinct advantage over their English cousins in terms of vocabulary – after all, they had both English and native Scots upon which to draw. A great achievement of Galt’s lies in his retelling of Scotland’s history, in the period between 1760 and 1820, through a series of thirteen innovative and very entertaining novels. Those were known collectively as the ‘Tales of the West’ and offer an all-embracing view of life in Scotland at the time – a human history.
Galt began writing around the age of twenty-four, experimenting in verse before realising, like many of us, that he was really an inferior poet. In 1813, he conceived the idea of writing a novel based on the observations of a parish minister. At first, he could find no enlightened publisher that would accept a book set in the west of Scotland. However, once Sir Walter Scott entered the scene and transformed Scottish literature, Galt found an outlet for his ‘Scottish stories’. Once published, there was no holding him back.
Galt called his first stories, quite appropriately, his ‘theoretical histories’. They were written in the 1820s and the first of them, ‘The Ayrshire Legates’ was serialised in Blackwood’s Magazine, in 1820-21. Galt’s voluminous output includes: ‘The Steamboat’; ‘Annals of the Parish’; ‘Sir Andrew Wylie’; ‘The Gathering of the West’; ‘The Provost’; ‘The Entail’; ‘Ringan Gilhaize’; ‘The Last of the Lairds’; and the ironic political novels, ‘The Member’; and ‘The Radical’, which were both published much later in his career. In addition to being a star contributor to Blackwood’s Magazine, Galt also wrote an acclaimed biography of his friend Lord Byron, whom he had met whilst travelling on the Mediterranean in 1809. Galt’s ‘The Life of Byron’ (that’s By-ron, not Brian) was published in1830; the first biography of the poet.
John Galt was born in Irvine on the 2nd of May, 1779. John received his early education at Irvine and Greenock, and found his first employment as a clerk in a mercantile office. In 1804, Galt trotted off to London, where he published anonymously and advisedly so, a poem called ‘The Battle of Largs’. In London, Galt made unsuccessful attempts to succeed in business and also entered Lincoln’s Inn, but never made it to the bar. Thirsty then, he obtained a commission to investigate whether Napoleon’s Berlin and Milan decrees could be evaded. Those decrees of Bonaparte’s were part of the diminutive dictator’s continental system; his plan to defeat the British by waging economic warfare. Galt was also employed by the Glasgow merchant, Kirkman Finlay, on similar business, probing for cracks in the Bonaparte regime and it was during his time on the Continent that Galt met and travelled with Byron.
Much of Galt’s fiction draws from the west of Scotland where he spent his youth. It appears he was a sickly child and spent much of his time soaking up local and traditional tales. Such apparent idleness was well spent as he developed his gift for storytelling and ear for regional dialect. Some of his later novels were set in North America, of which he had personal experience, and were amongst the first to be located there. Despite critical literary success, Galt also had business aspirations and a profound desire to go to Canada. After becoming actively involved in political campaigning on behalf of the colony, off he sailed, in 1826. For two years, he devoted himself to developing the virgin territories of the colony, founding the townships of Guelph and Goderich. Unfortunately, he fell foul of bureaucracy and eventually he had to return to the United Kingdom, which he did in 1829, under charges of debt. He was imprisoned for a while, but afterwards, he happily returned to writing and the aforementioned political novels, drawing on his experiences – from a rich and varied well.
‘The Annals’ is Galt’s masterpiece of small-town Scottish life, an insightful character portrait and a wonderful, humorous observation of social change, coloured by local trivia. It is described in a review of the ‘100 Best Scottish Books of all Time’ as “more beautifully coloured than anything by Walter Scott.” The story is narrated by the simple, if rather worldly and vain, Reverend Micah Balwhidder, a Presbyterian minister in the Ayrshire town of Dalmailing. It spans the time of Burns and the Industrial Revolution, and charts this turbulent period of economic and social change through a rare vernacular beauty. Its characters, such as Mr Macskipnish, the owner of the dance school at Irville, are reminiscent of Dickens – except Galt was a predecessor.
If history was taught in schools by making pupils read books like ‘The Annals’ they wouldn’t find topics like the industrial revolution so dull an uninteresting. When you think about it, history is happening as we speak, and that’s the beauty of the book, history unfolds as the characters tell their stories. The combination of historical accuracy alongside sociological insight led Galt’s contemporary critic, John Wilson, to say, “(it was) not a book but a fact” – quite a compliment for a novel.
Another book worth looking up is ‘Ringan Gilhaize’, which was described by Sir George Douglas as “a neglected masterpiece”. In this novel, Galt addressed the psychology of the Scottish race and the tragedy of its then recent history involving the likes of the Covenanters. It deals with the themes of community, loyalty, religious and legal justice and violence as a begetter of violence. Those themes, which are just as prevalent and topical today, show that history continues to repeat itself; we just have a different technological and economic environment in which to play them out.
In his later years, Galt suffered a stroke, but he continued writing up until his death, which occurred on the 11th of April, 1839. He was buried in Greenock.
James V
James V, the seventh Stewart King of Scots, was born on the 10th of April, 1512.
James Stewart was born at Linlithgow Palace, the only surviving son of James IV and Margaret Tudor. Here was yet another Stewart Prince who inherited the throne as an infant. Wee Jamesie was a mere seventeen months old when his father was killed at the Battle of Flodden, in 1513, and he was crowned twelve days later, at Stirling Castle. It was a dangerous business being a Royal in those days; in fact, those days were dangerous, period. That being the case, you could be forgiven for thinking that James V died in battle, like his father. Fact is, whatever else James V did in his short life, he is more famous for the events surrounding his death than for the occurrence of his birth.
James V didn’t die in battle. He pined away after a battle he lost, even predicting his own demise with the words, “Befair sic a Day I sal be deid.” That battle came to be known as the Rout of Solway Moss, in the autumn of 1542. The operative word was ‘rout’ and after the miserable trouncing of his divided forces, James sort of lost the will to live. He retired to Falkland, depressed and defeated, to once more leave the throne to a Stewart minor. His infamous final words, uttered from his deathbed in Falkland Palace, were doom laden and a gloomy comment on the prospects he foresaw for his six days old daughter, the future, Mary I, Queen of Scots. He should’ve said, “We’re doomed!” Instead, he is quoted as allegedly having said, “Adieu, farewell, it cam’ wi’ a lass and it’ll gang wi’ a lass.”
That dismal quote alluded to the beginning of the Stewart dynasty, which started with Robert the Bruce’s daughter, and James’ belief that it was very likely to end with his female heir, the bonnie Mary. He was wrong, of course, as we made it all the way to Queen Anne Stuart’s death in 1707, before Geordie Hannover arrived on the scene. James was ruefully bemoaning the news of his daughter’s arrival, which illustrates well the mental state in which he was. John Knox was present by James’ deathbed and later wrote what led to the above quote: “…he turnit frome sick as spak with him, and said, ‘The Devil ga with it, it will end as it begane; it come frome a Woman, and it will end in a Woman.’ Efter that he spak not mony Wordis that war sensibill.” Sir George Douglas of Pittendreich, who was also present, said that the king was talking but delirious and spoke no “wise words.”
James’ early life was mirrored by the fortunes of several Jameses. As was practically obligatory for a Stewart King of Scots, a sequence of Regents ruled on his behalf until he was able to take control himself. His mother was Regent until she married Archibald, 6th Earl of Angus, the Red Douglas, in 1524. In Falkland Palace, James became virtually a prisoner of his stepfather for two years, until he finally escaped, disguised as a groom. After James got free, he caused the Red line of Douglas to be outlawed and its lands confiscated. By the time he was seventeen he had assumed the rule for himself.
That was the time of the Reformation and the creation of the Church of England by Henry VIII. However, James remained committed to the Catholic Church, no doubt encouraged by earning substantial church revenues, sanctioned by the Pope, who was keen to avoid Scotland succumbing to Protestantism. James was a great man to accumulate wealth. His two French marriages came with handsome dowries and he also contrived lucrative ecclesiastical posts for his seven illegitimate children. On the marital front, he also had to stave off martial intrusions of Henry VIII, who was intent on marrying his son to James’ legitimate daughter. Those were the events of the so-called ‘Rough Wooing’.
James Stewart the Fifth was also famous for doing a wee bit wooing of his own. Amazingly, the King developed the habit of going abroad amongst the peasants, disguised as a farmer or beggar. He became notorious for his amorous nocturnal exploits and was celebrated in verse. He is referred to as the ‘Gudeman o’ Ballengeich’ in a 19th century poem by the legendary William Topaz McGonagall. Several contemporary ballads and poems were also written of his escapades, including ‘The Gaberlunzie Man’ or ‘The Jolly Beggar’. Some of these were attributed to James and there is some evidence that he occasionally wrote verses. However, it is probably true that his good friend, Sir David Lindsay, provided able assistance.
Here is an extract (drastically curtailed) from one interpretation of ‘The Jolly Beggar’…
“When he perceived the maiden’s mind
And that her heart was his,
He did embrace her in his arms
And sweetly did her kiss.
In lovely sport and merriment
The night away they spent
In Venus game, for their delight
And both their hearts content.
When twenty weeks were come and gone
Her heart was something sad,
Because she found hersel’ wi’ bairn,
And disnae ken the dad.”
James Stewart died on the 14th of December, 1542, at the age of thirty and was buried at Holyrood Abbey.
James Stewart was born at Linlithgow Palace, the only surviving son of James IV and Margaret Tudor. Here was yet another Stewart Prince who inherited the throne as an infant. Wee Jamesie was a mere seventeen months old when his father was killed at the Battle of Flodden, in 1513, and he was crowned twelve days later, at Stirling Castle. It was a dangerous business being a Royal in those days; in fact, those days were dangerous, period. That being the case, you could be forgiven for thinking that James V died in battle, like his father. Fact is, whatever else James V did in his short life, he is more famous for the events surrounding his death than for the occurrence of his birth.
James V didn’t die in battle. He pined away after a battle he lost, even predicting his own demise with the words, “Befair sic a Day I sal be deid.” That battle came to be known as the Rout of Solway Moss, in the autumn of 1542. The operative word was ‘rout’ and after the miserable trouncing of his divided forces, James sort of lost the will to live. He retired to Falkland, depressed and defeated, to once more leave the throne to a Stewart minor. His infamous final words, uttered from his deathbed in Falkland Palace, were doom laden and a gloomy comment on the prospects he foresaw for his six days old daughter, the future, Mary I, Queen of Scots. He should’ve said, “We’re doomed!” Instead, he is quoted as allegedly having said, “Adieu, farewell, it cam’ wi’ a lass and it’ll gang wi’ a lass.”
That dismal quote alluded to the beginning of the Stewart dynasty, which started with Robert the Bruce’s daughter, and James’ belief that it was very likely to end with his female heir, the bonnie Mary. He was wrong, of course, as we made it all the way to Queen Anne Stuart’s death in 1707, before Geordie Hannover arrived on the scene. James was ruefully bemoaning the news of his daughter’s arrival, which illustrates well the mental state in which he was. John Knox was present by James’ deathbed and later wrote what led to the above quote: “…he turnit frome sick as spak with him, and said, ‘The Devil ga with it, it will end as it begane; it come frome a Woman, and it will end in a Woman.’ Efter that he spak not mony Wordis that war sensibill.” Sir George Douglas of Pittendreich, who was also present, said that the king was talking but delirious and spoke no “wise words.”
James’ early life was mirrored by the fortunes of several Jameses. As was practically obligatory for a Stewart King of Scots, a sequence of Regents ruled on his behalf until he was able to take control himself. His mother was Regent until she married Archibald, 6th Earl of Angus, the Red Douglas, in 1524. In Falkland Palace, James became virtually a prisoner of his stepfather for two years, until he finally escaped, disguised as a groom. After James got free, he caused the Red line of Douglas to be outlawed and its lands confiscated. By the time he was seventeen he had assumed the rule for himself.
That was the time of the Reformation and the creation of the Church of England by Henry VIII. However, James remained committed to the Catholic Church, no doubt encouraged by earning substantial church revenues, sanctioned by the Pope, who was keen to avoid Scotland succumbing to Protestantism. James was a great man to accumulate wealth. His two French marriages came with handsome dowries and he also contrived lucrative ecclesiastical posts for his seven illegitimate children. On the marital front, he also had to stave off martial intrusions of Henry VIII, who was intent on marrying his son to James’ legitimate daughter. Those were the events of the so-called ‘Rough Wooing’.
James Stewart the Fifth was also famous for doing a wee bit wooing of his own. Amazingly, the King developed the habit of going abroad amongst the peasants, disguised as a farmer or beggar. He became notorious for his amorous nocturnal exploits and was celebrated in verse. He is referred to as the ‘Gudeman o’ Ballengeich’ in a 19th century poem by the legendary William Topaz McGonagall. Several contemporary ballads and poems were also written of his escapades, including ‘The Gaberlunzie Man’ or ‘The Jolly Beggar’. Some of these were attributed to James and there is some evidence that he occasionally wrote verses. However, it is probably true that his good friend, Sir David Lindsay, provided able assistance.
Here is an extract (drastically curtailed) from one interpretation of ‘The Jolly Beggar’…
“When he perceived the maiden’s mind
And that her heart was his,
He did embrace her in his arms
And sweetly did her kiss.
In lovely sport and merriment
The night away they spent
In Venus game, for their delight
And both their hearts content.
When twenty weeks were come and gone
Her heart was something sad,
Because she found hersel’ wi’ bairn,
And disnae ken the dad.”
James Stewart died on the 14th of December, 1542, at the age of thirty and was buried at Holyrood Abbey.
Saturday, 9 April 2011
Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat
Simon Fraser was executed on Tower Green, London, on the 9th of April, 1747.
Simon Fraser was variously described as ‘the Fox’ or “the most devious man in Scotland.” Those epithets were largely justified and he was certainly one of the Highlands’ most colourful characters. Fraser of Lovat Chiefs were dubbed ‘the MacShimi’ (the son of Simon) in recognition of their descent from Sir Simon Fraser, who was killed at the Battle of Halidon Hill, in 1333. The unfortunate, 18th Century incarnation of Simon Fraser was embodied in the seventy-nine year old MacShimi Chief of Clan Fraser of Lovat. He was the 11th Lord Lovat and a convicted Jacobite rebel. For the crime of treason, Fraser was beheaded on Tower Green in London. The corpulent Lovat has the unfortunate and unwanted notoriety of being the last man to be publicly beheaded in the United Kingdom.
Many of Fraser’s escapades centred on his desire to attain the title of Lord Lovat. He saw that as rightfully his, being son of the 10th Lord. However, it wasn’t as simple as that. Simon’s father was only recognised as Lord Lovat posthumously, three years after the previous Lord, Simon’s cousin, died. The succession was complicated by Simon having a rival; the female heir of the 9th Lord. Indeed, that Amelia was herself later recognised for some time as the Baroness Lovat. Simon’s first cunning scheme was to elope with the young Amelia; an idea to which she seemed partial. That never happened and Simon instead turned his devious intentions to her mother, the elder Lady Amelia Lovat, whom he abducted. His desperate aim was to forcibly marry her and claim the title. A ceremony was carried out and the marriage reputedly consummated when Simon’s ghillies slit the Lady’s stays with their dirks, whilst his pipers drowned her screams.
Soon after, having roused the fury of Amelia’s family, Simon was forced to flee the country. Fraser spent the next six years on the Continent, travelling around and paying frequent visits to the Jacobite court. Never being one to pass up an opportunity to further his own schemes, Fraser took the opportunity to convert to Catholicism and ingratiated himself with those who supported the Stewart cause. He seems to have honed his talents for intrigue and double-dealing whilst at St. Germain, in France, even laying down plans for a possible rising in Scotland. It’s fair to say that Fraser rivalled the Master of Gray for the title of Scotland’s Machiavelli. Françoise d’Aubigné, Marquise de Maintenon and the second wife of King Louis XIV of France, once described MacShimi as “un homme ravissant” (‘an entrancing man’) – yes, he was far more debonair in his thirties (he was born around 1667) than his latter day image portrays.
Fraser returned to Scotland, in 1703, with a plot to compromise the 1st Duke of Atholl, brother of his ‘bride’. He was still trying to gain the title he coveted, however, the marriage was by then annulled and Amelia had remarried. His Machiavellian plans to implicate Atholl as a Jacobite were thwarted and Simon slunk back to his estates to bide his time. If you get the picture, there he was, trying to stitch up Atholl and all the while continuing to correspond with his own exiled Jacobite cronies. His deviousness extended to asking the ‘King across the water’ to create him Duke of Fraser – the price of his loyalty – simultaneous with his attempts to ingratiate himself with the Hanoverians in London. All of which would have made Patrick, Master of Gray, look like a novice!
Come the Rising of 1715, Simon stayed out of the firing line and took advantage by helping himself to the sequestered lands of defeated Jacobites. Afterwards, during the Rising of 1719, his plotting continued, first promising the Earl of Seaforth that he would raise the Frasers for the King, then giving orders to the Clan to oppose the Rising. He was tipped off that he was betrayed and somehow managed to wheedle his way out of trouble once again and headed for sanctuary in London.
Finally, in 1730, aided by his cunning and the younger Amelia being forfeited as a Jacobite, he won a long drawn out legal battle and the title of 11th Lord Lovat. Amazingly, his incorrigible double dealing continued as he maintained connections and provided support for the Jacobites. Then along came the ’45, when he cannily hedged his bets, before belatedly joining the Rebel cause – a fatal mistake. At first, he wrote to the Lord Advocate of Scotland, referring to Charles Edward Stuart as, “That mad and unaccountable gentleman” and proffered his support for the government. Then, within days, he also wrote to Prince Charles in Edinburgh. Ultimately, he came out for the Prince, contributing a regiment of two battalions, around 500 men in total, under the command of his eldest son, the Master of Lovat.
When he heard of the defeat at Culloden, he was reputed to have said, “None but a mad fool would have fought that day.” The night after the defeat, Lovat and the Bonnie Prince met for the only time. As Charlie was scurrying away, seeking to evade capture, Lovat advised him to return to France; to try another day. Lovat himself fled to an island on Lake Morar, where a Captain Fergusson laid claim to his capture. If you can imagine the aged and infirm MacShimi, a grotesquely corpulent man, hiding inside a hollow tree, picture his bare legs sticking out like pale beacons against the bark. This wretched sight gave away the arch schemer. He was taken in a litter to the Tower of London, where he remained until his trial in Westminster Hall the following March.
During his trial, Lovat conducted himself with dignity, even sitting for the infamous portrait by Hogarth. He was beheaded on the 9th of April, 1747. In a final ironic twist, one of the wooden grandstands set up for Londoners to watch his execution collapsed, resulting in several deaths preceding his own.
Like many another so-called Scottish noble family, the Frasers were in fact Norman-French. They originated in Anjou and Normandy and appeared in Scotland for the first time around 1160, during the reign of Malcolm ‘the Maiden’. The name of Fraser is derived from the French word ‘Fraise’, meaning Strawberry; three flowers of which appear on the Clan’s Coat of Arms.
Simon Fraser was variously described as ‘the Fox’ or “the most devious man in Scotland.” Those epithets were largely justified and he was certainly one of the Highlands’ most colourful characters. Fraser of Lovat Chiefs were dubbed ‘the MacShimi’ (the son of Simon) in recognition of their descent from Sir Simon Fraser, who was killed at the Battle of Halidon Hill, in 1333. The unfortunate, 18th Century incarnation of Simon Fraser was embodied in the seventy-nine year old MacShimi Chief of Clan Fraser of Lovat. He was the 11th Lord Lovat and a convicted Jacobite rebel. For the crime of treason, Fraser was beheaded on Tower Green in London. The corpulent Lovat has the unfortunate and unwanted notoriety of being the last man to be publicly beheaded in the United Kingdom.
Many of Fraser’s escapades centred on his desire to attain the title of Lord Lovat. He saw that as rightfully his, being son of the 10th Lord. However, it wasn’t as simple as that. Simon’s father was only recognised as Lord Lovat posthumously, three years after the previous Lord, Simon’s cousin, died. The succession was complicated by Simon having a rival; the female heir of the 9th Lord. Indeed, that Amelia was herself later recognised for some time as the Baroness Lovat. Simon’s first cunning scheme was to elope with the young Amelia; an idea to which she seemed partial. That never happened and Simon instead turned his devious intentions to her mother, the elder Lady Amelia Lovat, whom he abducted. His desperate aim was to forcibly marry her and claim the title. A ceremony was carried out and the marriage reputedly consummated when Simon’s ghillies slit the Lady’s stays with their dirks, whilst his pipers drowned her screams.
Soon after, having roused the fury of Amelia’s family, Simon was forced to flee the country. Fraser spent the next six years on the Continent, travelling around and paying frequent visits to the Jacobite court. Never being one to pass up an opportunity to further his own schemes, Fraser took the opportunity to convert to Catholicism and ingratiated himself with those who supported the Stewart cause. He seems to have honed his talents for intrigue and double-dealing whilst at St. Germain, in France, even laying down plans for a possible rising in Scotland. It’s fair to say that Fraser rivalled the Master of Gray for the title of Scotland’s Machiavelli. Françoise d’Aubigné, Marquise de Maintenon and the second wife of King Louis XIV of France, once described MacShimi as “un homme ravissant” (‘an entrancing man’) – yes, he was far more debonair in his thirties (he was born around 1667) than his latter day image portrays.
Fraser returned to Scotland, in 1703, with a plot to compromise the 1st Duke of Atholl, brother of his ‘bride’. He was still trying to gain the title he coveted, however, the marriage was by then annulled and Amelia had remarried. His Machiavellian plans to implicate Atholl as a Jacobite were thwarted and Simon slunk back to his estates to bide his time. If you get the picture, there he was, trying to stitch up Atholl and all the while continuing to correspond with his own exiled Jacobite cronies. His deviousness extended to asking the ‘King across the water’ to create him Duke of Fraser – the price of his loyalty – simultaneous with his attempts to ingratiate himself with the Hanoverians in London. All of which would have made Patrick, Master of Gray, look like a novice!
Come the Rising of 1715, Simon stayed out of the firing line and took advantage by helping himself to the sequestered lands of defeated Jacobites. Afterwards, during the Rising of 1719, his plotting continued, first promising the Earl of Seaforth that he would raise the Frasers for the King, then giving orders to the Clan to oppose the Rising. He was tipped off that he was betrayed and somehow managed to wheedle his way out of trouble once again and headed for sanctuary in London.
Finally, in 1730, aided by his cunning and the younger Amelia being forfeited as a Jacobite, he won a long drawn out legal battle and the title of 11th Lord Lovat. Amazingly, his incorrigible double dealing continued as he maintained connections and provided support for the Jacobites. Then along came the ’45, when he cannily hedged his bets, before belatedly joining the Rebel cause – a fatal mistake. At first, he wrote to the Lord Advocate of Scotland, referring to Charles Edward Stuart as, “That mad and unaccountable gentleman” and proffered his support for the government. Then, within days, he also wrote to Prince Charles in Edinburgh. Ultimately, he came out for the Prince, contributing a regiment of two battalions, around 500 men in total, under the command of his eldest son, the Master of Lovat.
When he heard of the defeat at Culloden, he was reputed to have said, “None but a mad fool would have fought that day.” The night after the defeat, Lovat and the Bonnie Prince met for the only time. As Charlie was scurrying away, seeking to evade capture, Lovat advised him to return to France; to try another day. Lovat himself fled to an island on Lake Morar, where a Captain Fergusson laid claim to his capture. If you can imagine the aged and infirm MacShimi, a grotesquely corpulent man, hiding inside a hollow tree, picture his bare legs sticking out like pale beacons against the bark. This wretched sight gave away the arch schemer. He was taken in a litter to the Tower of London, where he remained until his trial in Westminster Hall the following March.
During his trial, Lovat conducted himself with dignity, even sitting for the infamous portrait by Hogarth. He was beheaded on the 9th of April, 1747. In a final ironic twist, one of the wooden grandstands set up for Londoners to watch his execution collapsed, resulting in several deaths preceding his own.
Like many another so-called Scottish noble family, the Frasers were in fact Norman-French. They originated in Anjou and Normandy and appeared in Scotland for the first time around 1160, during the reign of Malcolm ‘the Maiden’. The name of Fraser is derived from the French word ‘Fraise’, meaning Strawberry; three flowers of which appear on the Clan’s Coat of Arms.
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