The whole incident is set forth at great length in Row's History. The hero of the story is Robert Colvill, Laird of Cleishe, who was commonly known as Squire Meldrum, and who, on that account, has sometimes been mistaken for the character celebrated by Lyndsay. He is described as "a gentleman of good understanding and knowledge, sound in the Reformed religion, and most zealous and stoute for the Reformation". But his wife, one of the Colquhouns of Luss, was a Catholic, and finding herself in need of such help as "the Ladie and Saints of Allarite" were supposed to have it in their power to give, she posted off her servant "with ane offering of gold, with her sarke (according to the custome), that shee might get easie delyverie". Her husband learning this, also hurried off, with the intention of hindering such a superstitious use of his money. He rode all the way to Loretto, however, without overtaking the messenger; and, on his arrival at the shrine, he was no less scandalized than surprised to find "the whole adjacent countrey of Mers, Tweedale, East, Middle, and West Lothians, convened to see ane miracle", the performance of which had been announced for that very day. "For the Papists, perceiving the Reformation to goe on quicklie, and fearing that their religion should be abandoned, the kirkmen, the Archbishops, Bishops, Preists, Freires, &c., consulted and advysed, and, after deliberation, resolved, that the best wayes to maintaine and uphold their Religion, wes to worke some miracle to confirme the people, (as they thought) that Poperie wes the true religion; and, therefore, they caused proclame in Edinburgh that on such a day there wes a great miracle to be wrought at St. Allerite's Chapell, for a man that wes borne blind, and had begged all his dayes, being a blind man, wes to be cured and receive his sight."
Such was the performance for which Squire Meldrum had arrived in time. And, indeed, he saw how an apparently blind beggar was brought forward on to a platform, and how, after certain ceremonies had been gone through, he seemed to recover the use of his eyes, and came down rejoicing amongst the people, who gave him money. But the Squire was not to be so easily convinced. On the contrary, he determined "to doe his best to find out the lurking deceit whereby the people were miserablie deceived". With this object in view, when the beggar, in whose way he contrived to put himself, asked him for a dole, he gave him not only an exceptionally large sum of money, but sympathetic words as well. "You are a verie remarkable man," he said, "on whom such a miracle has been wrought, I will have you to goe with me to be my servant." The beggar readily agreed, and mounting on horseback behind the Squire's attendant, rode off with his new master to Edinburgh. When the party reached Meldrum's lodgings, matters took a new turn. Locking the door upon himself and his new servant, drawing his sword, and assuming "a fierce countenance", the Squire said to the man: "Thou villane and deceiver of the people of God, either tell me the treuth of these things that I am to aske of you now presentlie, or els I will take upon me, with my sword, to cutt off thy head; for I am ane magistrate appointed by God to doe justice; and I am assured that all the preists and freirs, all the saints, nor the Pope himselfe, cannot work a miracle such as they pretend to do, namely, to cure a blind man. Therefor thou and they are but deceivers of the people; and either tell me the veritie, or els with this sword I will presentlie—as ane magistrate in this case—put ye to death." The poor wretch, thus taken unawares and terrified out of all thought of resistance, consented to do and to say whatever might be required of him. And the remarkable story which he told is reported in what professes to be his own language:—
"When I wes a young lad I wes a herd, and keeped the Sisters of the Sheines's sheep, and in my wantonness and pastime I used often to flype up the lids of my eyes, so that any bodie wold have trewed that I wes blind. I using often to play this pavie, the nunnes, the Sisters of the Sheines (so they were commonly called), did sometymes see me doe it and laugh at me. Then the Sisters send in word to Edinburgh that their sheppeard lad could play such a pavie. The kirkmen in Edinburgh hearing of such a thing, came out to the Sheines, and desired to see that sheppeard lad. I being brought and playing this pavie befor them, walking up and doune with my eyelids up, and the whyte of my eyes turned up as if I had been blind. The kirkmen that conveened there to see me, advised the Sisters, the Nunnes of the Sheines, to get another lad to keep their sheep, and to keep me hid in one of their volts or cellars for some years, ay till they thought meet to bring me out, and to make use of me as they pleased, and so, Sir, I wes keeped and fed in one of the volts, no bodie knowing that I wes there but the kirkmen and the Nunnes of the Sheines, for the space of seven or eight years. Then, Sir, they conveened me againe, and brought me befor them, and caused me sweare a great oath that I sould faine my selfe to be a blind man, and they put one to lead me through the countrey that I might beg as a blind man in the day tyme; but in the night, and also when I pleased, I put doune my eyelids and saw well enough, and I to this houre never revealed this to any; yea, my leader knew not but I wes blind indeed."
Next morning Squire Meldrum and the detected impostor, in accordance with a plan carefully devised by the former, betook themselves to the Mercat Crosse. There, after having attracted the attention of the public by thrice repeating the accustomed cry of "O yes!" the erstwhile blind beggar recited a speech which Meldrum had prepared for him, and in which he gave those who had seen the miraculous cure of the day before all the details of the fraud which he had helped to practise on them. Then, springing on to horses that were held in readiness for them, Meldrum and he galloped away towards Queensferry, on their way to Fifeshire, where they could depend on the protection of the Lords of the Congregation, and where they might defy "the preists, freiers, and the rest of that deceiving rabble".[200] And with this incident there is an end to the story of Loretto as a wonder-working shrine.
There is a charter which shows that, in 1569, Gavin Walker, "Chapline of the Chaplainerie of Loretto",[201] restored to the town the ground originally granted by it to Thomas Duthie. According to the brief notice contributed by "Jupiter" Carlyle to the old Statistical Account, the Chapel was demolished in 1590, and the materials were utilized for the building of a new tolbooth. He states that "this is said to have been the first religious house in Scotland whose ruins were applied to an unhallowed use". That is not improbable. But when "Jupiter" goes on to record that for this act "the good people of Musselburgh are said to have been annually excommunicated, till very lately, at Rome", he helps to perpetuate a tradition of which his own common sense might have shown him the improbability—not to use a harsher term.
THE ISLE OF MAY
I
The May, situated at the entrance to the Firth of Forth, is the largest of the islets that stud the waters of the estuary between the coast of Fife and that of the Lothians. It lies ten miles to the north-east of Dunbar, and five to the south-west of Fifeness. Its greatest length is from east to west, and measures about a mile. Its width is greatest at the western extremity, and may be estimated at rather more than half a mile. The shape of the island is exceedingly irregular. At the south-western point a mass of precipitous rock gives it an imposing and picturesque appearance, but to the east and to the north the cliffs terminate abruptly, and are flanked by stretches of comparatively low-lying coast. Between their respective extremities the seaboard, which faces the north-east, is rugged and difficult of access, but does not otherwise present a striking outline.