THE OLD CHRONICLER'S TALES.
THE DEATH OF JAMES III.
In these enlightened times, when man has become so wise that he thinks he knows everything, it is a practice with writers of legends which border on the supernatural, to give a plausible solution of any difficulty which occurs, and to reconcile, if possible, all mysterious appearances with the ascertained and familiar ways of God's providence. We are very far from discountenancing the study of physical causes, recommended by Lord Bacon, and followed now-a-days with so much zeal, and we might say, with so much impatience of what was at one time called the wisdom of the world; but we may very humbly remark, that, as all extremes transcend truth, the stickler for the old philosophy and the exclusive supporter of the new are equally wide of their aim, if they think that these respective studies comprehend severally all the ways of Providence. The votary of superstition, who trembles at an omen, is not farther distant from the path to eternal and immutable truth, than is the conceited biped who, with rule and compass, dynamics, and differential calculus, thinks he can measure and define all the powers of nature. How little is it known to him who makes the visible the measure of nature's existence and power, that every step he makes, or thinks he makes, in his progress, the farther he removes from the great landmarks of those great truths on which is founded our holy religion. James III. was killed in open day: who killed him? History is mute; but tradition is eloquent, and fearfully impressive. The reign of this unfortunate monarch was marked by more rebellion and murder than any period of the same extent in the history of Scotland. Other reigns exhibited, perhaps, more attacks on the part of England—more battles and greater devastation; but the period we have mentioned stands unrivalled for intestine commotion, faction, rebellion, plotting, and counterplotting, and all the other effects that flow from a weakly-exercised authority on the part of a king over subjects, the greater part of whom, trained to arms and tournaments, and taught to hate and despise humane attainments, could find no relief from the ennui of idleness but in the stir of strife, whether exercised against their external enemies, or their internal compeers, who stood in the way of their ambition. Many have been the complaints which Scotland has made against the invasions of England, and the sordid views of the English monarchs which produced them; but little has been said against the renegade conduct of many of her sons, who, with matricidal views, endeavoured to put an end to her independence as a nation, by leaguing with her enemies, and corrupting the loyalty of their brethren. It may be doubted whether the successive treasons and rebellions of Mar, Douglas, and Albany, and their consequent alliances with the King of England, did not produce more evil to Scotland than ever resulted from the unaided invasions of all the English monarchs together; yet such is the inconsistency of man, that, even at this day, the cadets and scions of these renegade families presume upon the honours of their birth, and get their presumption admitted and countenanced by those who would despise the industrious benefactor of his country.
There cannot be a doubt that it was entirely owing to the weakness of the third James, that the noble enemies of order and justice, the high barons, wrought so much evil to their country. A late historian, of some beauty of diction, and great command of historical erudition, but perhaps deficient in what is called the philosophy of history, has endeavoured to support James against the censures of Leslie and Buchanan; but his own narrative disproves his arguments, and leaves the responsibility of a nation's sorrow at the debit of the weakness, favouritism, and tergiversation of that unfortunate king. The rebellion at Lauder—where his favourites, Crighton the mason, Rogers the musician, and Ireland the man of letters, or rather of magic, were hanged over the buttress of the bridge—was entirely produced by the disappointment of the lords, who saw their places at court occupied by mechanics, while they, too much inclined for tumult at any rate, were left without civil distinctions and employments to occupy their minds and incline them to peace. But, although the weakness of James may have formed an excuse for the nobles to rise against him, what shall be said for the conduct of his son, James IV., who headed the subsequent rebellion against his own father, which ended so mournfully at the battle of Sauchie Burn? It was unnecessary to add the cry of public reprobation to the voice of a crying conscience; the prince conceived himself to have been the murderer of his father, and never had a day's rest or happiness on earth after the mysterious death which his rebellious conduct had produced.
We have outlived the days of superstition, and we do not, we dare not, believe what has been handed down to us on the subject of this self-imputed parricide—but we are at liberty, as veracious chroniclers of tradition, to narrate what were at one time supposed to be the ways of a mysterious Providence, in punishing the unfilial conduct of a son who, after experiencing the unlimited kindness of a parent, took into his hand arms, which, by another, though unknown hand, were used against that parent's life. Let the sceptical sons of modern philosophy repudiate our narrative, as their sublime knowledge of the workings of physical powers inclines them to shut their eyes against the dark obscure beyond. We profess to believe that negation of light is not exclusive of existences, and that, though light may be necessary to enable us to see what is permitted us to see by the decree of Him who made us, there is also ordained an alternation of darkness, whose dominion being co-extensive with the light, carries a borrowed conviction of existences, which, extended by analogy to unknown things and regions, may make us abate our scepticism and humble our pride of knowledge.
When the nobles who had committed the daring acts of rebellion and murder at the Bridge of Lauder—among whom were Lords Gray and Hailes, the Master of Hume, and Shaw of Sauchie—found that the king was not inclined to extend to them letters of pardon, they set about devising a scheme whereby they might force that safety to themselves and their property, which they had not been able to procure by entreaty and supplication. Their plan was subtle in its nature, and dexterously executed; but, like all schemes of a similar kind, failed of that success which the high hopes of political schemers point to, as the mean of their elevation to rank and power. They resolved upon taking advantage of the youth and versatility of the young prince, James, Duke of Rothsay, and endeavouring to overcome his sentiments of filial love and duty by the engrossing passion of political ambition, get him to join them in their designs against the power and authority of his father. By setting, in this way, the son against the parent, they would give weight and power to their faction, and take away the responsibility and guilt of rebellious leaders, which could not attach to operations commanded by the heir-apparent of the throne. Unfortunately the disposition of the young prince was predisposed to the reception of the insidious whisperings of ambition. All the faculties of his mind were in a high degree precocious; and his sentiments kept pace with his intellectual powers, in suggesting wishes which his abilities might gratify, and which his prudence was not able to suppress. These tendencies had, it is supposed, been noticed by the rebellious schemers, who, with the example of a prior Duke of Rothsay before them, could not well have calculated upon overcoming the instinctive feelings of a son, without some indications that these were weaker than they are even generally found to be in the sons of kings.
This plan was begun to be put into execution, by getting the prince prevailed upon to visit the Castle of Stirling, at that time under the governorship of Shaw of Sauchie. He had no sooner arrived, than a great display was made by the lords, who were assembled there for the purpose of the most obsequious homage and the most impassioned affection, with the view of stimulating those feelings of a desire of power, which already had vindicated too much force in his youthful mind. A banquet was prepared in honour of the heir-apparent, at which there were assembled almost all those nobles who stood in fear of his father, from having had a participation in the murder of the favourites at Lauder. The most fulsome flattery was poured into his youthful ear; and the conduct of his father, in resigning himself to the studies of astrology and to the power of the professors of that occult science, treated with a levity which bordered on derision and laughter. This was the true chord to strike in the heart of the prince, who, filled with the highest enthusiasm of chivalry, despised, as worthy of the supremest contempt of an honourable man-at-arms, and far more of a king, all such applications of the human intellect. He did not hesitate to declare, in the midst of the nobles, that he did not approve of the conduct of his father, who ought, as he thought, to have cultivated the knowledge of arms, and left witchcraft to old wives, and astrology to old men. These sentiments were lauded by the company, and the young man, buoyed up with the conceit of a knowledge superior to that of his father, seemed to be far advanced in the preparation he was undergoing for bolder sentiments and unfilial resolutions. Well may philosophers lament the evil nature of man. Few criminal purposes can be suggested to the human heart, without finding in its hidden recesses some chord which, with eldrich notes, gives a response often unknown to the will, but affording good proof that the attuning and predisposing power of an evil angel has been at work in that organ on which depends the salvation or perdition of mortals.
When the designing nobles saw that the young prince was so far prepared for their purposes, they got him engaged, under cover of a recess of the great hall, in a conversation with some of the leaders, and, in particular, with Gray and Hume, who took the active part in the demoralisation of the youth. The plan adopted by Gray, in conducting the conversation, was the result of experience, and the very triumph of cunning. He had noticed the self-complacent smile of the flattered prince, when the elder nobles conceded to him their opinion, and deferred a subtle point to the analysing powers of his boyish judgment; and he took advantage of the weakness of vanity, to forward his schemes of ambition.