Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh, better known as 'Bluidy Mackenzie', died on the 8th of May, 1691.
Sir George MacKenzie of Rosehaugh was seemingly a contradictory sort of a guy. On the one hand, he was praised by some for his “cultivated and learned” literary and legal skills. On the other hand, he was reviled – still is – by many for his persecution of the Covenanters. MacKenzie looms large in the history of the Covenanters and the years known in Scotland as 'the Killing Times'. If you're a Jacobite, without understanding why as in “I just love yon Bonnie Prince Charlie” you might want to think twice about Charlie's ancestors and the impact they had on Scotland in the 17th Century. Aye, he served well the heirs of Jamie Saxt; Charles II & II and his brother James VII & II, for both of whom MacKenzie's royalist disposition emerged; delivered with a vengeance.
As Lord Advocate or King's Advocate in Scotland, MacKenzie was largely responsible for persecuting the inhuman policies of successive Stuart Kings against the Covenanters. Perhaps those policies should only and ever be seen in the light of the times, but certainly, by modern, western standards, MacKenzie must be held accountable for the deaths of something like 18,000 Covenanters. If around today, he'd be on trial at the International Court of Human Rights in The Hague for crimes against humanity, except, he had the law on his side.
Those crimes took place during the nine years that MacKenzie was Lord Advocate, when there was hardly a prosecution in which he was not involved. Under MacKenzie, torture was routinely employed, in attempts to extract confessions from the accused or, in the case of witnesses, to implicate 'conspirators'. MacKenzie also had a penchant for bending the rules and soliciting perjury in pursuit of his prejudice. According to 'Men of the Covenant' by A. Smellie, MacKenzie had a violent temper and a vicious tongue that cowed defendants and even some judges. However, MacKenzie didn't have it all his own way and there are many tales of fervently religious Covenanters, simple folk and gentry alike, who resisted his bullying, albeit many perished, despite their stoic forbearance.
Brian J. Orr, who has written about the Covenanters at length, suggests that it is probable that MacKenzie's epithet stemmed from the belief and legal tenet that a murdered person's body would bleed if touched by the murderer, because McKenzie had used that belief in a court case and secured a conviction. Orr might be right, but MacKenzie, like John Graham of Claverhouse (Bonnie Dundee to the Jacobites, mind) certainly earned his 'Bluidy' title for his persecution of the Covenanters.
George Mackenzie was born in Dundee, in 1636, and was educated at that city's grammar school, before entering King's College at the University of Aberdeen, in 1650. Afterward, Mackenzie went to St. Andrews, from where he graduated at the age of sixteen. He then spent three years studying civil law at the University of Bourges, in France. MacKenzie returned to Scotland and was called to the bar, being elected to the Faculty of Advocates as they say, in 1659. According to the on-line 1911 Encyclopedia, immediately after the Restoration, MacKenzie, who had by then become a distinguished lawyer, was appointed a 'justice-depute' and he and his colleagues were ordained by the parliament in 1661 “to repair, once in the week at least, to Musselburgh and Dalkeith, and to try and judge such persons as are there or thereabouts delate of witchcraft.”
Also in 1661, MacKenzie acted as counsel for Archibald Campbell, 1st Marquess (Marquis) of Argyle (Argyll). Now that affair only adds to the contradictory nature of the man as MacKenzie was then a defender of the Presbyterians, hence his role on behalf of Campbell. At that time, according to Brian Orr, MacKenzie professed “to be a sanctuary to such as are afflicted and to pull the innocent from the claws of his accuser.” Later on, he might have said, “I am a persecutor of the afflicted and seek to draw the innocent into the claws of death.” He was knighted around that time, before he was elected the Member of Parliament for the County of Ross. One more thing for which you might want to give MacKenzie credit is that, in 1669, during his early years as an MP, he opposed Lauderdale's move for a Union of the Kingdoms. That momentous event was destined to happen thirty-eight years later.
MacKenzie was appointed Lord Advocate in 1677, when he also then became a member the Privy Council of Scotland, in the aftermath of the Pentland Rising. His predecessor was Sir John Nisbet of Dirleton, who set MacKenzie a good example in mistreating Covenanters. Nisbet was the man who proposed that delinquents from the Rising who had not yet been brought to justice, should be tried in their absence, with no defence and liable to the death sentence. MacKenzie took a bit of time to come round to that way of thinking, but when he did, he went for it in a big way.
At the dethronement of James II and the 'Glorious Revolution', MacKenzie was, unsurprisingly, one of a minority of five against the forfeiture of the crown, but the new King, William of Orange, wasn't a vindictive kind of guy. MacKenzie was allowed to retire in peace to Oxford, where he was admitted as a student by a grace passed in 1690. MacKenzie was allowed to spend the rest of his days in Oxford, pursuing a prosecution of a different sort, that of his literary ambitions. One of his last acts before leaving Edinburgh in 1689, had been to pronounce, on the 15th of March, in his capacity as Dean of the Faculty of Advocates, the inaugural oration at the foundation of the Advocates' Library, which much later, in 1925, became the National Library of Scotland.
As a final titbit in MacKenzie's favour, courtesy of Wikipedia, is that when he was asked, in 1692 to resume the post of Lord Advocate, he declined, because a condition attached was that he should not prosecute the persons implicated in the Glencoe Massacre. Mackenzie apparently refused to concur in such a partial application of the penal laws. He must've been well into his dotage by then, comparing that attitude with his previous behaviour.
Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh died in Westminster on the 8th of May, 1691, and he was buried in Greyfriars Kirkyard in Edinburgh, not too far from many of the Covenanters whose execution he ordered.
The photograph is by Sam Perkins (check him out on Facebook at Sam Perkins Photography) and was taken near Oban.
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh; 'Bluidy Mackenzie''
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
The Battle of Arkinholm
The Battle of Erkinholme was fought on the 1st of May, 1455.
The Battle of Erkinholme is more commonly referred to as the Battle of Arkinholm, albeit it's known by some as the Battle of Langholm, primarily because it was fought where the town of Langholm now stands. More accurately, the battle was fought on the outskirts of present day Langholm, opposite the lower return of a distinctive Z-shaped bend in the river Esk, which flows through the town, at least according to The Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments and Constructions of Scotland. The battle is noteworthy for having pitched two sides of the Douglas family at each other's throats, but then again, that sort of thing wasn't so unusual in mediaeval Scotland or elsewhere, for that matter.
The two sides of Douglas were known as
The Battle of Erkinholme is more commonly referred to as the Battle of Arkinholm, albeit it's known by some as the Battle of Langholm, primarily because it was fought where the town of Langholm now stands. More accurately, the battle was fought on the outskirts of present day Langholm, opposite the lower return of a distinctive Z-shaped bend in the river Esk, which flows through the town, at least according to The Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments and Constructions of Scotland. The battle is noteworthy for having pitched two sides of the Douglas family at each other's throats, but then again, that sort of thing wasn't so unusual in mediaeval Scotland or elsewhere, for that matter.
The two sides of Douglas were known as
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Battles,
Regents and Earls
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Saturday, 28 April 2012
The world's first rugby sevens tournament
The world's first rugby sevens tournament was played at the Greenyards, on the 28th of April, 1883.
When it comes to 'firsts' as in the first occurrence of an event, why is it that people use the term first-ever? You'd be forgiven for thinking that the suffix is superfluous, but maybe it's used to avoid having to write “it was the first 'such and such' to take place on [insert date].” One such event, which took place on Saturday, the 28th of April, 1883, was the world's first rugby sevens competition. So there you go, the game at which the likes of Fiji and New Zealand now excel was invented, created, dreamt up, initiated – whatever you like – by a player from Melrose Football Club. Maybe the lack of player numbers, a contributory reason behind the nation's lack of rugby success in recent years, had also been a factor in the birth of seven-a-side rugby back in 1883? Had Melrose been unable to field a full team of fifteen on that Saturday afternoon? Nope, the incentive behind Ned Haig's innovative new game wasn't
When it comes to 'firsts' as in the first occurrence of an event, why is it that people use the term first-ever? You'd be forgiven for thinking that the suffix is superfluous, but maybe it's used to avoid having to write “it was the first 'such and such' to take place on [insert date].” One such event, which took place on Saturday, the 28th of April, 1883, was the world's first rugby sevens competition. So there you go, the game at which the likes of Fiji and New Zealand now excel was invented, created, dreamt up, initiated – whatever you like – by a player from Melrose Football Club. Maybe the lack of player numbers, a contributory reason behind the nation's lack of rugby success in recent years, had also been a factor in the birth of seven-a-side rugby back in 1883? Had Melrose been unable to field a full team of fifteen on that Saturday afternoon? Nope, the incentive behind Ned Haig's innovative new game wasn't
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Friday, 27 April 2012
The Battle of Dunbar
The Battle of Dunbar was fought on the 27th of April, 1296.
There have been two battles called 'The Battle of Dunbar' and to distinguish between them, they are referred to as 'Dunbar 1' and 'Dunbar 2'. The second is also referred to as “Cromwell's greatest victory” and could perhaps be called “Leslie's greatest defeat” and the first, which concerns this post, could also count amongst a list of someone's 'greatest defeats' – the Scots didnae win!
The history of battles is never impartial, with omissions and exaggerations being rife, especially in contemporary reports. The historic record often depends on whether the winners or the losers wrote the report. If the losers left anyone behind capable of writing up the events, that usually means some truth can be gleaned from studying both versions. However, a common misconception concerning Dunbar 1, namely that Robert the Bruce fought on the side of the Norman-English on the 27th of April, 1296, has nothing to do with partiality. The error derives from
There have been two battles called 'The Battle of Dunbar' and to distinguish between them, they are referred to as 'Dunbar 1' and 'Dunbar 2'. The second is also referred to as “Cromwell's greatest victory” and could perhaps be called “Leslie's greatest defeat” and the first, which concerns this post, could also count amongst a list of someone's 'greatest defeats' – the Scots didnae win!
The history of battles is never impartial, with omissions and exaggerations being rife, especially in contemporary reports. The historic record often depends on whether the winners or the losers wrote the report. If the losers left anyone behind capable of writing up the events, that usually means some truth can be gleaned from studying both versions. However, a common misconception concerning Dunbar 1, namely that Robert the Bruce fought on the side of the Norman-English on the 27th of April, 1296, has nothing to do with partiality. The error derives from
Tuesday, 17 April 2012
James Craig and Edinburgh's New Town
James Craig's winning entry for the development of The New Town of Edinburgh was announced on the 17th of April, 1766.
It's hard to accept that the Edinburgh of the Enlightenment was a cesspit, but back in 1766, twenty years after Culloden, it stank. You might say, “It stank to high-heaven!” and you'd be right, after a manner of speaking, because the only way to avoid the stench was to live 'in the heavens' – that is on the upper floors of the tightly packed, high-rise tenements, where the air was a little less pungent.
Back in the mid-18th Century, Edinburgh consisted of what we call the Old Town, the area well favoured by tourists today, which sprawled along the spine of volcanic rock between Holyrood House and the Castle. At that time, Edinburgh was
It's hard to accept that the Edinburgh of the Enlightenment was a cesspit, but back in 1766, twenty years after Culloden, it stank. You might say, “It stank to high-heaven!” and you'd be right, after a manner of speaking, because the only way to avoid the stench was to live 'in the heavens' – that is on the upper floors of the tightly packed, high-rise tenements, where the air was a little less pungent.
Back in the mid-18th Century, Edinburgh consisted of what we call the Old Town, the area well favoured by tourists today, which sprawled along the spine of volcanic rock between Holyrood House and the Castle. At that time, Edinburgh was
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Events,
Famous Scots
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Sunday, 15 April 2012
Captain Sir James Clark Ross
Captain Sir James Clark Ross, Antartic explorer, was born on the 15th of April, 1800.
James Clark Ross shouldn't be confused with his equally famous uncle, John Ross, both of whom gained the honour of a knighthood and both of whom are famous Arctic / Antarctic explorers. There was a connection, though, as the former was the latter's nephew, being the son of John's brother, George. Albeit James Clark (not James Clerk; that was Maxwell) was born in London, his father and his uncle, of course, were of good Scottish stock, being the sons of the Rev. Andrew Ross, Minister of Inch, near Stranraer. Apart from exploring the polar regions and being prefixed Sir, James and his uncle shared another attribute, which was that they both joined the navy at a tender age, at least by modern standards. Uncle John Ross joined up in 1786, when he was nine, for goodness sake and James Ross, the nephew, entered the Royal Navy in 1812, when he was
James Clark Ross shouldn't be confused with his equally famous uncle, John Ross, both of whom gained the honour of a knighthood and both of whom are famous Arctic / Antarctic explorers. There was a connection, though, as the former was the latter's nephew, being the son of John's brother, George. Albeit James Clark (not James Clerk; that was Maxwell) was born in London, his father and his uncle, of course, were of good Scottish stock, being the sons of the Rev. Andrew Ross, Minister of Inch, near Stranraer. Apart from exploring the polar regions and being prefixed Sir, James and his uncle shared another attribute, which was that they both joined the navy at a tender age, at least by modern standards. Uncle John Ross joined up in 1786, when he was nine, for goodness sake and James Ross, the nephew, entered the Royal Navy in 1812, when he was
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Explorers and Adventurers
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Sunday, 1 April 2012
Blackwood's Magazine
The Edinburgh Monthly Magazine was first published on the 1st of April, 1817.
If you've heard of Blackwood's Magazine or 'Maga' as it came to be called, you may not know that it began its literary life as the Edinburgh Monthly Magazine. It did, indeed. The Edinburgh Monthly Magazine was published by Scottish publisher and editor, William Blackwood, but, within a year, it took the name of its eponymous publisher.
On the 1st of April, 1817, the very first number of the Edinburgh Monthly Magazine appeared. The editors of the first six issues were James Cleghorn and Thomas Pringle, however, those two lasted a mere six months before Blackwood chucked 'em out. Blackwood brought in a chappie called John Wilson (who wrote under the pseudonym of Christopher North), and John Gibson Lockhart and in October 1817, re-launched under the title
If you've heard of Blackwood's Magazine or 'Maga' as it came to be called, you may not know that it began its literary life as the Edinburgh Monthly Magazine. It did, indeed. The Edinburgh Monthly Magazine was published by Scottish publisher and editor, William Blackwood, but, within a year, it took the name of its eponymous publisher.
On the 1st of April, 1817, the very first number of the Edinburgh Monthly Magazine appeared. The editors of the first six issues were James Cleghorn and Thomas Pringle, however, those two lasted a mere six months before Blackwood chucked 'em out. Blackwood brought in a chappie called John Wilson (who wrote under the pseudonym of Christopher North), and John Gibson Lockhart and in October 1817, re-launched under the title
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Artists and Writers and Poets,
Events
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