This prototype of Scottish political reformers met ‘with much compassion from the promiscuous beholders, who generally believed he suffered wrongfully.’ He was afterwards deported to Flanders.
Colin Campbell, Laird of Glenurchy, who had succeeded his father Duncan in 1631, seems to have outrivalled him in his taste for elegant things. In the quaint memoir of his family written about this time, it is stated: ‘The said Sir Colin bestowit and gave to ane German painter, whom he entertainit in his house aucht month, and that for painting of thretty brods of the kings of Scotland, and of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, and twa of their majesties’ queens of guid memory, and of the said Sir Colin his awn and his predecessors’ portraits, whilk portraits are set up in the hall and chalmer of dais of the house of Balloch, the soum of ane thousand pounds.’[47]
He also patronised the portrait-painter, George Jameson, now in the zenith of his fame, and settled in Edinburgh. From a letter written by this distinguished person to Sir Colin, June 23, 1635, it appears that he charged for his portraits twenty merks each, he furnishing ‘claith and colours.’ The laird had given an order for pictures of a considerable number of his friends, and Jameson promised, if he began in July, to have sixteen ready in September.[48]
1633.
His labours are thus spoken of in the family chronicle: ‘Sir Colin gave unto George Jameson, painter in Edinburgh, for King Robert and King David Bruces, kings of Scotland, and Charles I., king of Great Britain, and his majesty’s queen, and for nine more of the queens of Scotland their portraits, whilk are set up in the hall of Balloch, the soum of twa hundred threescore pounds.’... ‘For the knight of Lochow’s lady, and the first Countess of Argyle, and six of the ladies of Glenurchy their portraits, and Sir Colin his awn portrait, whilk are set up in the chalmer of dais of Balloch, [he gave] ane hundred fourscore pounds.’[49] If we are to presume that Scots money is meant in all these instances, it would appear that this eminent artist was content to execute a bust portrait at a pound sterling!
June 13.
The king arrived in Edinburgh, accompanied by the Duke of Lennox, the Marquis of Hamilton, and divers other Scotch and English lords and gentlemen, to the number of about five hundred. His furniture and plate were carried about with him in princely form. He, riding on horseback, was received at the West Port in a theatrical manner, after the fashion of the allegorical entertainments with which Ben Jonson has made us familiar. There was a kind of theatre under an arch, where a nymph representing Edinburgh appeared on a mountain, which was so arranged as to move at the approach of majesty. The nymph was attired in a sea-green velvet mantle, with sleeves and under-robe of blue tissue, and blue buskins on her feet: about her neck she wore a chain of diamonds; her head-dress represented a castle with turrets, and her locks dangled about her shoulders.
A speech of welcome was delivered by this fair lady, together with the keys of the city. Meanwhile, the provost, Alexander Clark, and the bailies, in furred red robes, with about threescore councillors and others, in black velvet gowns, had taken up a position on a wooden stand at the other side of the gate. Thence the provost addressed the king in a brief speech, presenting him at the same time with a gold basin worth five thousand merks, into which were shaken out of an embroidered purse a thousand golden double angels, as a token of the town’s love and service. ‘The king looked gladly upon the speech and gift both; but the Marquis of Hamilton, master of his majesty’s horse, hard beside, meddled with the gift, as due to him by virtue of his office.’