THE CANONGA TE AND ABBEY SANCTUAR Y. 295
alliance of these two noble families, when, on Saturday the 18th of May, the already
excommunicated and doomed Marquis of Montrose was brought a captive to Edinburgh.
About four o’clock in the’afternoon, the magistrates and guard received their prisoner at
the Water Gate, and, after reading to him his barbarous sentence, he was ignominiously
bound to a low cart provided for the occasion’. The common hangman, who acted as
master of the ceremonies, having uncovered the Marquis, he mounted the horse before
him, and the melancholy procession moved slowly up the Canongate, a band of meaner
prisoners, bound two and two, going bareheaded before him.
The striking contrast presented in this scene is painfully illustrative of the vicissitudes
that accompany civil war. Montrose had fought with and overthrown his great rival the
Marquis of Argyle, father of the young Lord Lorn, and had driven him almost a solitary .
fugitive to the sea, while he wasted his country with &e and sword. As the noble captive
was borne beneath the windows of Moray House, the wedding guests, including the Earl
of Loudoun, then Lord Chancellor, Lord Warriston, and the Countess of Haddington,
along with the Marquis of Argyle, and the bride and bridegroom,’ stepped out on the fine
old stone balcony that overhangs the street to gaze upon their prostrate enemy. It is said
that the Lady Jane Gordon, Countess of Haddington, Argyle’s niece, so far forgot her
sex as to spit upon him as he passed, in her revengeful triumph over their fallen foe.
But the marriage party quailed before the calm gaze of the noble captive. Though
suffering from severe wounds, in addition to the mortification and insult to which he was
exposed, he preserved the same composure and serenity with which he afterwards submitted
to a felon’s death, appearing even on the scaffold-as Nicoll relates-in a style ‘‘ more
becoming a bridegroom, nor a criminal going to the gallows.” On Montrose turning his
eye on the party assembled on the balcony at Moray House to rejoice over his fall, they
shrank back with hasty discomposure, and disappeared from the windows, leaving the
gloomy processiou to wend onward on its way to the T~lbooth.T~h is remarkable incident
acquires a deeper interest, when we consider that three of these onlookers, including the
gay and happy bridegroom, perished by the hand of the executioner on the same fatal
spot to which the gallant Marquis was passing under their gaze.
The period of which we write was one of rapid change. Little more than four
months had elapsed when the army of the Covenanters, with Leslie at its head, was
signally defeated at Dunbar, and the victorious General Cromwell entered the Scottish
capital as a conqueror, and once more took up his quarters at Moray House. Throughout
the winter of 1650, its stately halls were crowded with Parliamentary commissioners and
military and civil courtiers attendant on the General’s levee.4- Its next occupant of note
was the Lord Chancellor Seafield, who appears to have resided there at the period of the
Union, and peopled its historic halls with new associations, as the scene of the numerous
secret deliberations that preceded the ratification of that treaty. The stately old terraced
gardens remain nearly in the same state as when the peers and commoners of the last
Scottish Parliament frequented its avenues. The picturesque summer-house, adorned with
-
It WBB reported that, in 1650, when the Marquia of Montroae was brought up prisoner from the Water Gate in a
cart, this Argile waa feeding his eyea with the eight in the Lady Murrayes balcony in the Canongate, with hir daughter,
his lady, to whom he was new married, and that he waa seen playing and smiling with her.”-Fountainhall’a Historical
Observes, 1685, p. 185. a Nicoll’s Diary, p. 13. Wigton Papera ; Hait. Misc. vol. i i pp. 482, 483. ‘ Ante, p. 95.