Chapter VIII: Introduction: The Manuscripts (8)

We on night fel to telling of notes of preachings, as of the Englisman preaching on that, In came Tobit, and much controverted whither they called it baty, light feit or watch;[302] and of the minister that sayd, Christ, honest man, liked not war, sayd to Peter; and of on preaching on that, And Abram gave up the ghost, sayd that it was wery debated if it was for want of breath or not, that he durst not determin it. Of a Preist preaching on the miracle wt whilk Christ feed a multitude wt 5 loaves, it was not so great a miracle, quoth he, as ye trow, for every on of the loaves was as meikle as this Kirk: a baxter being at the pulpit fit[303] started up and demanded wheir they got a oven to bake them in, and a pole to put them in and take them out. Ye are to curious, quoth the preist, go and bake your oune bread and medle not wt Christs, they had other ovens in the days then they have now and other poles to, and do ye not think but Christ could have lent them a pole. Also on who praying for the King our dread soveraine Charles by the grace [of God] King of S[cots], etc., supream governour, instead of under the[304] and they sone Christ, sayd over the. Also of another who praying for the Illustrious Duke of York, sayd the Lusty Duk. Also whow a hostesse at Camphire served Mr. R. Macquaire, being their to dine, wt a great deall of other company, he was desired to seik a blissing, he began so long winded grace that the meat was all spilt and cold ere he had done. The wife was wood[305] angry. The nixt day comes, the meat was no sooner put to the fire but she comes to Mr. R. and bids him say the grace. Whats your haste Margerit, is the meat ready yet? No, Sir, but its layd to the fire, and ere ye have ended your grace, it wil be ready. We most not forget the Swisse, who coming in a cabaret at Poictiers demanding for win, drank for his oune hand 15 pints, calling for a reckning they gave him up 16 pints. He told they ware cheating him of a pint, for he know weill the measure of his womb, that it held no more but 15 pints, wheirupon he would pay no more but for 15. Also of the Preist who bringing our Saviour in the Sacrament to a young galliard very sick, sayd, behold, Sir, Christ is come to visit you. The sick party replied, I sie very weil that Christ is their by the carrier of him, for as he was knowen at his entry unto Jerusalem by his asse that carried him, so do I know him at present.

[302] The meaning is whether Tobit's dog was to be called a comman cur
(baty), or a greyhound, or a watch-dog. The dog does not appear in
the English version of the Apocrypha, but in the Vulgate.--Tob.
vi. I. Profectus est autem Tobias et canis sequutus est eum, et
mansit ... juxta fluvium Tiberis.--xi. 9. Tunc praecucurrit canis
... et quasi nuncius adveniens, blandimento suae caudae gaudebat.

[303] Foot.

[304] Thee.

[305] Mad.

Wonderful was the temperance and moderation of the ancient Romans, yea greater then whats to be found amongs Christians even now. They know[306] no more but on diet a day, and that sober enough. At the first tyme that some Greeks came to Rome, and the Romans saw them, according to the custome of their country, eat thrise a day, they condamned them for the greatest gluttons that could be.

[306 1] Knew, as on p. 91.

That story of the General (Fabritius) Roman is weill knowen: who at his ennemies brought a wast sum of mony to bribe his fidelity to the commonwealth, they fand him busy stooving a pot of herbes to his supper, wheiron he answered them, that a man as he, that could be content wt sick a disch, could not readily be temted wt all their gold. Also of him who being choosen Dictator they fetched him from the plough to his dignity, sick was their industry.

For a long tyme amongs the Romans old age was held such a ignominious thing that they could not get the scurviest coalsteeler in Rome that would act the person of a old man, not so much as in Comoedy.

For 500 years, and above, after the building of Rome, it [divorce][307] was not knowen for a man to put away his wife. The first was one Spcius[308] Carvilius, who under the praetext of sterility divorced from his wife.

[307] Interlined.

[308] Spurius.

We most buy that infamous book of Miltones against the late King,[309] wt Claudius Salmasius answer.[310] Surely it shal stand as long as the world stands for a everstanding memorandum of his impudence and ignorance: its nothing but a faggot of iniury (calomnies), theirs not on right principle either moral or politick to be found in it al; its penned by a pedant, a scoolmaster, on who deserved at the cheapest to be torn in peices by 4 horses. Neither in our judgement, tho he deserves not to be refuted, hath Salmasius done so weill to the cause.

[309] _Iconoclastes_, 1649.

[310] _Defensio Regia_, by Claude de Saumaise, 1588-1653.

A Parisian Advocat cited some civil Laws of whilk he was not sure: his Antagonist retorting that their ware not sick a Law nether in the C nor D,[311] he replied, if it be not their yet it sould be their tho.

[311] Code nor Digest.

About the 12' of December 1665 at Poictiers ware programmes affixed thorow the toune intimating that the Physitians Colledge would sit doune shortly, and that their Doyen Deacon, on Renatus Cothereau, a wery learned man in his lessons, _Podagram hominum terrorem artuum que flagellum medicinali bettio acriter prosequeretur_; hence it hath[312] this exclamation, _accurite[313] itaque cives festinate arthici_.

[312] Meaning, probably, 'then follows.'

[313] For _accurrite_.

The same Renatus had a harangue at the beginning wherin he descryved very pedantically the lamentable effects it produces on the body of man: amongs his salutations, I observed this, _Themidis nostra Argonauta sacratissime, fidelissime, æquissime_. They get no auditors to their lessons, whence its only but for faschions sake that they begin their colledge, of which they have nothing but the name.

We have observed heir in France that on their shortest day, the 22 of December, the sun sets not but a hower, almost, after its set to us, to wit at 4 acloack, and that they have light a quarter almost after 5. Also looking to their Almanacks I fand that it rose on the shortest day at 7 acloack and some minuts, when it rises not to us but after 8, so that they have in winter at Juile[314] a hower at morn, as much at even, of sun more then we have. Their 2 howers we gain of them in the summer, for at our longest day we have a hower sooner the morning the sun then they have; we have it at 3 howers, they have it not til 4 wt some minuts. At even also we have a hower of sun after that he get to them on our longest day, for by their Almanacks he sets on that day in France, or at least at Poictiers, at 7 acloack wt some minuts, wt us not til after 8.

[314] Yule.

Their is a very considerable difference betuixt the French summers and the Scots: to wit, in their heat; but surely we could remark none in their winters. Its true we had no considerable cold before Juile, Nöel (tho their fel a drift of snow about the end of Octobre, French account), yet we fand it sickerly when it came, so that I do not remember that I felt it colder in Scotland then it was for a space togither. Its true it leasts not so long heir as it does wt us.

Juile is a great feste in France. The Papists are very devote on it, yea so religious that they go all to Church at midnight to hear Masse, for a preist hath that day power to say thry masses consecutife, when at another tyme he can say no more but on at a tyine. I went after dinner and hard the cordelier at St. Pierre. The rest of our Scotsmen ware so curious as to go hear Midnight Masses. As for me I had no skil of it it was so cold; and surely I did not repent it considering the affront that they got, that they ware forced to render their swords at the command of the Intendant who the night before was come to toune from the Grand Jour[315] that was then in Auuergne. This he caused do following the mode of Paris, wheir no man is suffered to carry a sword that night, both by reason of many quarrels begun that night, as also of sewerals that take occasion to decide former quarrels on that night. Surely they had no satisfaction in that Mass.

[315] High Commission sent down by the king to the provinces as a final
Court of Appeal.

During the tyme I was heir I fel in discourse wt the Jesuites, going once to sy our countryman Pere Broune, who was wery kind to us al, and came and saw me after.

About the tyme was that poor smith, of whom we made mention before, execute, who was the first we ever did sie in France. Tho he had receaved his sentence at Poictiers, yet that could serve til he was taken to Paris (for the Capital tounes of France are not royal boroughs as our are, having the power of heading and hanging wtin themselfes), wheir he was condemned to be broken on the wheel, to be _rouée_, tho according to the custome of France he know not that he was sentenced til about 2 howers before he was broken, for by concealing it up til then they keip them from taking wiolent courses to prevent their death which they would take if they know of it, as killing themselfes, or means to ecscape, tho otherwise it be very il for their souls, they having so short tyme to prepare themselfes for death. They made this poor fellow beleive that he was only condemned to the galleys, at which he laught, telling that it appeared they knew not he was a smith, so that he could easily file his chaines and run away. About 12 acloak on that day he was to be execeut he was conveyed to the Palais to hear his sentence, wheir it was read to him on his knees, the hangman _bourreau_ at his back wt a tow in his hand. The sentence being read he puts the tow about his neck wt thir words, _le Roy wous salou, mon amy_, to show him that its the King that causes him dy. His sentence is read to him again at the foot of the Palais, as give ye sould say at the coming of the Parlement close, or Ladies Steeps;[316] and then a third tyme on the schaffold.

[316] Steps close to St. Giles's Church. See Wilson, _Memorials of
Edinburgh_, 1891, vol. i. p. 260.

Their ware mo then 10,000 spectators at the Marcher Vieux. In the midle of it their was a little _eschaustaut_[317] erected, on which ware nailed 2 iests after the forme of a St. Androws crosse, upon whilk the poor fellow was bond on his back, wt his 2 armes and his 2 thigs and legs on the 4 nooks of the crosse, having bein strip naked to his shirt. After he had prayed a little and the 2 carmes[318] that assisted him, the _bourreau_ made himselfe ready to execute the sentence, which was that he sould get 2 strooks quick and the rest after he was stranguled.

[317] _Echafaud,_ scaffold.

[318] Carmelites.

At Paris in breaking great robbers, for the better exemple they do not strangle them at all; but after they have broken all their bones to peices almost, they leave them to dy on the rack.

To return to our poor miserable, the _bourreau_ wt a great baton of iron began at the armes and brook them wt tuo strooks, then his knees, then a strook on every thigh, then 2 on the belly, and as many on the stomack; and after all thir, yea after the 20 strook, he was not fully dead. The tow[319] brak twice that was ordained to strangle him. In sying what this cattif suffered made us conclud that it was a cruel death to be broken in that sort.

[319] Rope.

We cannot forget how coldrif the French women seimed to be in the winter. The marchands wifes and thorow all the shops every one have their lame choffer[320] ful of rid charcoal wt their hands in among the mids of it almost. The beggar wifes going up and doune the streits had them also.

* * * * * [321]

[320] Earthenware chafing dish.

[321] Twenty-two lines erased in MS.

We cannot forget the shift that the poor folk which have no bowets[322] (which generally are not so good as ours) take when they go out under night, as I have sein them when I have bein going or coming from Mr. Alex'rs, and it would have bein so dark that I could not sy my finger before me. It is they take a peice wood thats brunt only at one end, and goes thorow the toune waging[323] it from one syde to the other, it casting a litle light before him. It would almost fly[324] a man in a dark night to sie it at a distance, and always approaching him, til he keen what it is.

[322] Lanterns.

[323] Wagging.

[324] Frighten.

We cannot but insert a not of a Northren Ministers preaching. His text was about Piters threefold denial of Christ, and that wt oaths. Beloved, its wery much controverted amongs the learned what ware the oaths that Piter swoore, yet the most part condeschends that they ware thir: the 1, God confound me, if I keen such a man; the 2, Devil ding me in testons;[325] the third, by Gods wounds, I do not keen him. Mungo Murray of the life gard was in the kirk, and resolving to make sport came to the Minister after the kirk was scailed, telling him that he agreed wt him about the 1 [first] 2 oaths that they ware so, but he could not be of his mind about the thrid, by Gods wounds, for Christ had not yet received any wounds, so that he could not swear by Gods wounds. The Minister began, Sir, I am very glad that ye take the freedom to propon your doubts, for its a signe of attention. As to your difficulty, ye would know that a man when he is sorest prest he wil swear sorest, so that Peter keipt the greatest oath last; also ye would know that it was a Profetical oath, as give he sould have sayd, by the wounds that Christ is to receave.

[325] Teston or testoon, a small silver coin. The last in Scotland were
coined by Mary in 1561, value 5s. Scots.

In the Hylands their was a minister that was to give the Communion to his Parish wheir it had not bein given 6 or 7 years before. For that effect they sent to Monross[326] to buy the win, which being come, he and his elders bit to tast it for fear of poisoning their honest parishioners. Er ever they wist of themselfes they fand it so good that they licked it out every drap, and was forced to give the communion in good rid aile.

[326] Montrose.

We most not forget the story of the English Capitaine, who thinking to flie his Hostesse, he was so frighted himselfe, his man wtout his direction having bought a great oxes hyde and covered himselfe wt it, that looping over the stair for hast he brake on of his legs.

Wheir 2 layes in a chamber togither, their are many wayes to flie on another. We might take a litle cord or a strong threed when the other is sleiping, bind it to his covering or bed cloaths, then going to our oun bed wt a end of the string in our hand, making ourselfes to be sleiping, draw the string to us, and the cloaths wil follow, and he wil be wery ready to think that its a spirit. Also ty a string to 2, 3 chair feet, and so draw them up and doune the house. He that knows nothing of it wil impute it to a ghest.

Any tymes I was angry at the Frenchmen, if so be I was familiar wt them, I fell to and abuse them in Scots, as logerhead, ye are a sheip, etc. Their was no way I could anger them worse then to speak in Scots to them.

The consuetuds and rights of nations about hunting and halking throughout the most part of the Christian world are wondrously degenerated from the right of nature and nations and the Civil Law following the footsteps of both. According to thir, all men have æqualy the liberty of chassing of wild beasts, no sort of folk being excepted, and that not only in their oune land but also in any others, since vild beasts, wheir ever they be they are always wild beasts, apparteening to none; for if that the wild beast is on my ground sould make that it be estimd myne, then leiving my ground it leives of to be myn, and by entring unto my neibhours it begins to be his, and so it might change a 100 masters in one day, which is absurd. We might as weill say that the piot that bigs[327] on my try is myne.

[327] Magpie that builds.

This liberty is exceedingly impared by the consuetudes at present, so that nether can we hunt all beasts, the King having excepted dears, harts, etc., so that its not lawful for any to chasse or kil under the pein of a fine 500 francks, except only the King and some few others, great peirs, who have their permission from the King.

Nether is it permitted for all indifferently to hunt, clergymen are decharged it, Peasants also. Its confessed also by al that Kings may discharge their subjects the pastime and pleasure of hunting, especially thess who holds their lands in fief immediatly of the King, which he called fiefs royalles, whom he may hinder to hunt in their oune ground, ower which they have ful power otherwise to sel it, woodset it, gift it, or do wt it what I please: the same power have the inferior seigneurs. Lords in giving lands to vassals, men who have bein serviceable to them in many occasions whom they cannot recompence in mony, they give them a tennement of land, they usualy retain the right of hunting in these lands only to themselfes.

Halking in France is a excercise not permitted to any under a gentleman.

We have sein its not permitted to al to hunt; also its not permitted to hunt al beasts; also its not permited now to hunt indifferentley in al places. The Kings keips their parks filled wt wild beasts, wheir its not leasum for any to hunt but themselfes, as Fontainbleau and St. James Park. The nobility have also the same right of keiping sick parks; as witnese upon the rode bothe of England and France we meit wt noblemens incloseurs wheir would [be] 2 or 300 dears.

Yea, in France its not lawful to shoot wt the gun in another mans ground; so that if a man take another guning in his ground, he usualy takes the gun from him and breaks over his shoulders. If he can hinder a man to shoot in his ground, much more may be hinder him to hunt, since the on is more praeiudicial to him then the others; for its done wt greater noice, also does more damnage to the cornes or wines.

What might be the reasons that have moved the Princes to hem in so narrow bounds the rights of Hunting by the right of nature and civil Law so patant to all are to be found in Vesembec,[328] paratitlo _de acquir[endo rerum dominio._ ], For fear that the whole race of beasts sould soon or sin[329] be totally exstirpated wt the multitude of hunters, if al ware permitted to hunt. 2do, Least to many (as we sie at present) being to much taken wt the plaisir of the sport sould forget their businesses of consequence. As to that obiection, that hunting being from the right of natur, which is unchangable, it cannot be prohibited by any civil Law, I say hunting is not from the rights of nature commanding but permitting.

[328] Matthew Wesenbec, Dutch jurist, 1531-1586.

[329] Sooner or later.

Its a custome in France that when a young woman unmarried is condemned to dy for some offence (unlesse the fault be al the grivevuser) that if the hangman be unmarried he may sick hir in marriage and get hir hir life that way: that their hes bein seweral that have refused it and choosen rather to die. This hes great resemblance wt that custome in England that a man being sentenced to dy, if a common whore demand him in marriage she wil get him; it being a charitable work to recal a whore from hir loose and prophan life by making hir marry. Yet surely both the on custome and the other is but a corruptel and a mocking at Justice.

The accent the French gives the Latin is so different from ours that sometymes we would not have understood some of them (for the most part I understood them weil enought), nor some of them us. Ether we or they most be right, but I dout not to affirm but that the accent they give it, straining it to the pronuntiation of their oune language, is not natural, but a vicious accent, and that we have the natural. My reason is, because if their be any wayes to know what was the Accent the ancient Romans prononced the Latin wt it is the Accent that the Italians gives it and their oune language, which is a degenerated Latin, who be the Romans posterity; but so be they give it the same very accent that we do: the French ware never able to answer me this.

As to ther pronuntiation of the Greek I could never keip myselfe from laughting when they had occasion to read Greek or any Greek sentence, even their Doctors of Law: vitnesse le Berche at Orleans whom I attended 2 moneths, that Greek that occurres in the 2 T. 1 book of the instituts,[330] [Greek: ton nomon hoi], he pronunced it [Greek: hi; men agraphoi], prononced it [Greek: hagraphi; hoi, i; men engraphoi, phi]: as we observed also in Mr. Filleau at Poictiers, [Greek: dunamenon] esti, he pronunced the 2 last syllabes damned long. [Car [Greek: son kaphson] urens.][331] We could give infinite mo instances wheir they prononce it undoubtedly wrong.

[330] Justinian, _Inst_. i. 2: [Greek: ton nhomon ohi men
heggraphoi, ohi oe hagraphoi].

[331] Interlined. The meaning apparently is that the French pronounced
[Greek: kahnson], a New Testament and Septuagint word for burning
heat, as if it were written [Greek: kaphson].

They do not name their points in writing as we do, that which we cal comma (following the Greek) they cal it alwayes _Virgula_; our colon, _duo puncta_; semicolon, _punctum cum virgula_. When we say _nova Linea_ they say _a capite_, wt sundry others like that.

A woman witness is receaved in France in any causes whither civil or criminal: only wt this difference that for one man their most be 2 women, id est, wheir 2 men being ocular witnesses of a murder wil condemne a man, their most be 4 women, under which their witnes is not admitted.

They have their penny bridiles[332] in France as weil as we in Scotland. When a servant women marries, her master brings wt him folk to their wedding as he can get, who casts in into the plat according to their pleasure. They wil be ready enough to promise on back the halfe of his again wt the dessein so to engage the rest to give more.

[332] See _Scotland and the Protectorate_, C.H. Firth (S.H.S.),
vol. xxxi. p. 410, note.

About the begining of February 1666 came Comoedians to Poictiers. I went and saw them severall tymes. The first was called Odip, who resolved the Sphinx his enigma: was so unfortunat to slay his father by ignorance, marry his mother, and to conclud al to put out his oune eyes: the fellow acted his griefe exceeding lifelylie. The farce was _le Marriage du rien_. A fool fellow in a scoolmasters habit wt a ugly nose, which I was angry at, a scoop hat, comes on the stage wt his daughter, who proposes to him that she apprehended furiusly that she might dy a maid and never tast of the pleasure in marriage. In comes a poet to suit hir, fals out in the commendation of Poesy; hir father shoots him away, saying that al the Poets ware fools. In comes a painter who praising his art, whom also he puts away, saying that the painter ware poor drunken fellows. After came a Musician, who fell to sing: he called him a cheater. Then came in a Astronomer, whom he put away because he could not tel whither he would give him his daughter or not. Then came in a Captain, a floop[333] like fellow wt his sword about him, making a wery fool reverence, who rodomontades a space, telling that he had made the Devils tremble; that he was that Achilles in Homer, that Eneas in Virgil, that Aiax in Ovid, and that al that historians wrot of brave men was only of him. At last came in one that called himself nothing, that would assume no title to himselfe. Not finding anything to obiect against him he accepted of him.

[333] Floop or flup, awkward.

In the comoedy when the King stood very scrupulously on his word, his sister fel to to convince him that it was a shame to a King to be slave of his word, which was the great maxim of Cardinal Mazarini, as I was informed. Having sent to consult the oracle of Delphos, and it not deigning to answer him, in a rage he cried furth, _flectere si superos nequeo_, etc.

When a person dies in France they are very careful to mark in what posture after their death their feet are in; for if they be unæqually laying, on of them drawen up, they strongly beleive that by that the dead calls his or hir neirest friend let it be wife, father, or brother, on of which wil dy shortly after.

Its the faschion of the grandees when they die that they are exposed for 3 days after in a chamber hung all in doole[334] in their bed, also of dool, in the bests cloaths which they wor when they ware in life, so that al may come to sy them in that space. Their is holy water in the roome. The Dutchesse of Montamor, whiles I was at Poictiers, was thus exposed.

[334] Mourning.

The bairnes of France have the excercise of the tap, the pery,[335] the cleking,[336] and (instead of our gouf, which they know not) they have shinyes.

[335] Peg top.

[336] Clekin or Clackan, a small wooden bat in shape like a racquet.

In France they have apples without any seeds in them; also great Pavies[337] (which is the best sort of Peach) wtout any stone, which they informed me the curious does thus: they graft a peach in a old stock, the bow the end of the imp[338] and causes it to enter in a other rift made in the stock, leaves it like a halfe moon or bow til they think it hes taken, and then cut it in 2. That halfe imp that was grafted first wt the head upmost bears peaches according course of nature wt stones in them, the other, which growes as give ye would say backwardlies bears wtout any stones. This has bein practicat. They'le impe[339] any tyme of the year in France.

[337] Sorte de pêche, dont la chair est ferme, et qui ne quitte pas le
noyau.--Littré, _Dict_.

[338] Shoot.

[339] Graft.

About the mids of February was receaved a new fencing master, whom we saw give his trials: the Mair made a assaut against him first, then the fencing masters, then some schollers.

A litle after was the Queen mothers panegyrick or _funebre oraison_ made at St. Pierre in a prodigious confluence of peeple of al ranks; the Intendant, the President and the Conseillers, the Mair, the Eschiwines,[340] and the Maison de Ville assisting; also many of the religious orders. The Cordelier who preached the Advent before and the caresme after made the harangue. He deduced hir glory and commendation, lo, from that she was Anne of Austria, which is the province in which standes Vienne, the Metropolis of Germany; that she was Philip the 3d of Spaines daughter; next that she was Queen or wife to Lowis the Just, 13 of that name in France; 3dly, that she was mother to Lewis the 14't, so hopeful a Prince, after she had bein 23 years barren. Whence he took occasion to show that tho virginity and coelebat was wery commendable, yet that it was no wayes so in the succession to crounes. He had also heir a senselese gasconad which nobody approved of, that St. Gregoire sould say that as far as Kings are exalted above other men, that in so far the Kings of France ware above al other Kings. In the 4th place he fand a large elogium to hir in that she falling widdow she becam Regent of hir sone and the Realme during his minority. Hir last and principal commendation was that she was a Princesse most devot and religious.

[340] _Echevins_, municipal magistrates.

We was at comoedy, the farce of which was called _Le cocus imaginaire_. Their ware some honest women craking[341] togither on a tyme, they came among other things to speak of Eve and hir transgression: on of them cries furth very gravely, oh, that I was not their, I wish I had given hir a 12 penie loaf on the condition she had not eaten the apples.

[341] Chatting.

Wery rich stuff has bein heard at the examens in Scotland, some ignorant folks wt their answers being wery pleasant and merry. Mr. J. Smith, Minister of the Colledge Kirk, examining a bonnet maker, of whilk theirs a great number in his parish, he speared at him what was effectual calling; the fellow, clawing his head, replied, the feeklesest[342] calling I keen, Sir, is my oune. Kid, minister of the Abby Kirk, spearing at one of my Lord Catheneses servant women what was the Lords Supper. She, thinking that he had speared what was for my Lords Supper, answered, Sir, or I came out I set on the pot and My Ledy hes sent pies to the owen. Mr. Robert Blair, examining a wery ignorant body, speared at hir, wheirof was ye made, Magie; the folk neir hand rounded and harked in to hir, of the rib of man. Of the rib of man, Sir. Weil said, Magy, quoth Mr. Rob, I'm very blaith to sie that ye answer better then ye did the last examen. Who made man then? The peaple round about whispered to hir, God. God, Sir. Whirof made he him then, Magy? The peaple cried to hir then, of dust and clay: which she mistaking or not hearing weil, insteed of saying of dust and clay, she said, of curds and whey, Sir. I leive to ghesse whither them that ware their laught or not. Mr. Robert himselfe, tho a very grave man, could not refrain from smiling.

[342] Feckless, feeble.

In baptizing about the bairnes names ther hes bein mistakes both on the Ministers hand and the holder ups. Mr. James Vood was baptizing a man at St. Androws, and instead that he sould have baptized James, he called it John. The father, a litle bumbaized at this, after the barne is baptized and that he hes given it back to the midwife, he stands up and looks the Minister as griveously in the face and sayes, Sir, what sal I do wt 2 Johns, we have a John at home else, Sir? Whow would ye called then, Robin? quo' the Minister. James, Sir. James be the name of it then.

Mr. Forbes told me that in the hylands once a mans wife was lighter of a lasse, the goodman was wery sick so that he could not go to church to present his oune barne, wheiron he desires one of his freinds or gossips to go and hold it up for him. He bit to have a Scriptural name for his daughter, at last he agreed upon Rebecca. The man thought he sould remember weil enough of it. Just as he is holding up the child he forgets the name. The Minister speares, whow call ye it. Sir, they call it, they cal it, they call it, shame fall it, ay hir oune selfe hes forgotten it. Yet I remember that its a name very lik tobacco. Many did laught wery heartylie at this, only some present remembered of the name, that it was Rebecca.

Having stayed at Poictiers til the 14 of April French accompte: some 20 dayes before that I was beginning to make many acquantances at Poictiers, to go in and drink wt them, as wt De Gruché, Ingrande La Figonne, both Advocats sones, and of the Religion, Mr. de Gay, Borseau, Cotibby, etc.

* * * * * [343]

[343] Twenty-seven lines erased in MS.

I was beginning to fall wery idle, so that if I had stayed longer in Poictiers, I had alwayes engaged myselfe in more company, and so done the lesse good, whence I have a sort of satisfaction that I came away.

On the day of my departing I took my leive of Mr. Boutiet, Mlle. Alex'r, and Mlle. Strachan, Mlle. Chabate and hir mother wt some others, then went to the Chappeau d'or, wheir we dined, Mr. Alex'r, the Doctor, Sandy, Mr. De la Porte, Mr. Montozon (for Gorein was not in toune), and I. After having taken my leive of Madame Daillé (himselfe being at Partenay), I took horse before the buith door and came to the Daufin in the fauxbourgs, wheir I leapt of. The most part of the Hugonots going to their Temple, their I took my leive of Sandy'es wife, Madame Peager, and divers others. I took up to drink wt me Mr. de la Porte, De Gruché, De Gey, De Gaule, Barantons brother, etc.

* * * * * [344]

[344] Twenty-two lines erased in MS.

On my vakening on the morning, I fand my head sore with the win I had drunk. For as sick as I was, on I got the morning wt the rest, and came and dined at Portpile,[345] a litle toune standing 5 leagues (for the leagues are long their in comparison of them about Paris) from Chattellerauld, on the Creuse, which runes also by Blanc in Berry.

[345] Le Port de Pilles, Blaeuw's Atlas.

Having ioined their wt the Messenger of Bordeau, who had about 7 Gascons wt him, and the Messenger of Angoulesme, who had above 12, we was a body above 24. We took al horseback, and having rode the river, tho wery deip, because the bridge was broken, I fell in wt the Gascons, and was the rarest stuffe wt them that could be.[346].... Also a gentleman of Sainctonge ioined wt us, who was coming to Paris.

[346] Eight lines erased in MS.

We came this night to Faux, a litle village standing upon the Lindre, about 7 leagues from Portpile, wher I played one of the Gascons a pret[347] in the boat; wheir also I saw a reservoire of fisches. Heir I was wery sick, so that I suped none, as I had not dined, my Poictiers rant incapacitating me. Yea, I was distempered al the way after, so that I cost not wery dear to my Messenger for my diet.

[347] Trick.

Nixt morning be 4 howers, having taken horse and riden the water, I came to Amboise. My heart began to lift in me for Joy when I came to places I had sein before, for I being wery sick, I fancied now I was almost at the end of my journy. Amboise is 5 leagues from Faux. We dined at the Cheval rouge, in the fauxbourgs, this syde of the Loire. I went and saw the Chasteau, having taken a French Gentleman of Quercy (of which Cahors is the Capital toune, and Dordogne the cheife river), and another of Thosose[348] wt me, whose brother, a boy not above 20 years, had already been at the wars against the Mores of Barbary, and had bein taken prisoner, and was ransoned by his father for 300 crounes, and was coming in to Paris to get some employment in the army: such stirring spirits are the French. The Castle I fand werie strong. I saw their arsenal, wheirs layes the canon of the fort, the greatest of them carrieng only 10 pound ball. Their best peices ware transported during the seige of the Rochel; they have never bein brought back yet. Theirs in the entry King Dagobert and his Queens statues, wt 2 great sheep done _à l'antique_.

[348] Probably for Tholose, Toulouse.

The most considerable thing we saw was the Harts hornes, hung up in the corner of a chapelle, of a monstrous bignesse, if they be natural. It was taken some many 100 years ago in a forest of Lorraine towards Allemagne, wt a collet,[349] about whilk the flesch was so growen that it covered it, bearing that it belonged to Cæsar. It bit to be wery old when it was taken. Also we saw some rib bons of it monstrouslie great. Also, I saw the chamber wheir Mr. Fouquet[350] was detained prisoner when the King brought him from Nantes.

[349] Collar.

[350] Nicolas Fouquet, 1615-1680, finance minister of Louis XIV.,
fell out of favour, and was arrested at Nantes, 1661.

From Amboise we came to Blois 10 short leagues, wheir I went straight to the Castle (my remarks of which are elsewheir) to sie these verses of Faustus above the 1 gate of the castle, which are as followeth:

Hic ubi natus erat dextro Ludovicus Olympo
Sumpsit honorata regiâ[351] sceptra manu,
Foelix quæ tanti fulsit lux nuntia regis,
Gallia non alio principe digna fuit.

1498.

[351] Regiâ for regia. At best the line does not scan.

Next morning we came to St. Laurens, a pretty litle toune, wheir we dined. In the afternoone we passed by Clery, a litle village 4 leagues from Orleans, wheir I subscrived my name in the great book of all passengers (wheir I did read several Scots names, as Liddell, Douglas, etc.). I payed a collation, which cost me a croune.

At Orleans we quartered at the Charrue, in the fauxbourgs towards Paris. As soon as I was arrived I went to J. Ogilvies, wheir I fand Madame, Mademoiselle hir daughter, hir 2 sones, Mr. le Baron, and another Allemand. They ware wery kind to me, caused me stay and sup wt them. They began and told me the depart of my Lord Ogilwie from their house very discontent, denieng J. Ogilvie, who was then in Germany for Mr. le Barons busines, to have bein given him as his Governor by my L[ord] his father. They would wery fain had me subscribing a paper (for they brought a notaire wtout my knowledg), wherin I sould have attested that I had heard from him that he was his gouwerneur, which they could not all obtain of me,... They pressed me so sore, making remonstrances, that I would obligd them infinitly by subscryving it, also that I could incurre no dommage by it, that I was put to feigne that I had made a solemme oath not to subscryve anything while I was in France, which stoopt their mouths.

I went wt Mr le Baron D'Angleberne and Christophle, le Barons valet, after supper to the lodging, whither my Lord was retired, which was at the back of the Church Ste. Croix, wheir I plead[352] the dissembler. Just at the port of the toune I meet James Hunter, who had bein at my quarters to sie me.

[352] Played.

Being on horseback, tomorrow being a Sundy, ere 3 howers of the morning we dined at Thoury, a little toune 10 leagues from Orleans; came at night wt foul weather to Estampes, a ruinous toune, their no being so meikle as a whole house standing in al the fauxbourgs, and that since the late troubles raised by Mr le Prince,[353] who defended the toune against the King. Their is one long street in the toune. We lay at the trois Rois. We went to the Cordeliers Convent to sie that Barbet[354] rought[355] water dog that taks the Escrevisses,[356] but we could not sie it.

[353] In 1652 the Prince of Condé's troops held Etampes against
Turenne, Louis XIV.'s general.

[354] A kind of dog with long curly hair.

[355] Rought, rough: as he spells laugh, laught.

[356] _Ecrévisses_, crayfish.

Nixt day, having past by a Hermitage, wheir 2 hermites dwells, and seiks almes of al that passes, we came and dined at Linas, besydes Montlery, 9 leagues from Estampes,...

At 5 oclock the afternoon we entred Paris by the fauxbourgs St. Jacques, wheir we passed by the Val de Grace, builded by Queen mother of France, lately dead, wheir hir heart is keeped; by the colledge of Clermont and the Sorbonne. We quit our horses in the rue St Jacques, neir the Grande Cerf. We was not weill of our horses when we was oppressed wt a generation of Hostlers, taverners, and others that lodges folk, some intreating us to come wt him, some wt him, all promising us good entertainement and accommodation. I went wt on Mr. Houlle, a barber, who had bein in England, because he was neir hand, and would stay but that night. Theyr was a French Gentleman of Lions and a Spaniard, one of the Queens Attendants: this was my company. That night they told me of the death of Madame de Touraine, and of the execution of Mr. del Camp, 2 dayes before my coming, a Maister of a Academy, and that for false mony, for whilk he had bein pardoned once before.

Nixt day, whilk was the 20 Aprill 1666, French accompt, I came to Mr Kinlochs, wheir I am informed that the most part of our countrymen are already goon for England, and that Thirlestan, Gorenberry, and Sandilands (whom I saw and gave on his desire my new testament) was to go the day after. Their I was first acquaint wt Mr. Forbes[357] (Cullodin) and Archibald Hay (Bara's brother). I changed my quarters that same day and came to Kinlochs.

[357] Probably Duncan Forbes, 1644-1704, M.P. for Nairn, succeeded his
father about 1688, father of President Forbes.

Within a day or 2 I was acquaint wt our Scots Captains, Captain Caddel, C. Rutherfurd wt a tree leg--his oune was dong from him at the Seige of Graveling--and Captain Scot, also on C. White.

I saw the fruit they call grenades[358] at Paris. To look to before its cut most like a citron: being cut at the top its all ful of litle grains as like rezer[359] berries in the coulor and bigness, yea almost in the tast, as can be. It was a pretty sight to sy how prettily the grains ware ranked wtin the skin.

[358] Pomegranates.

[359] Rezer, rizzer, red currant.

Mr. Kinloch on night coming from a burial of a Hugonet Medecin at Charenton saw a blind man of the Kings vingt (as they call them, tho they be 15 score) play at the Maille[360] to admiration, wheir upon Mr. Grahme took occasion to tel severall very wonderful things he know of blind men: amongs others, of one that could play weill to the gooffe, of another that, take doune 2 watches, mix their works as much as ye like in a hat or any other thing, and gave them him, he saw put them up as iust every one wt their oune vorks as any cknock maker shal do. Its common that they know any sort of silver by a more parfait touche then ordinar, which God is pleased to impart unto them in recompence of the want of sight.

[360] See p. 20, note 2.

In the renouned toune of Forfar, one who had many kyn having caused milk them at his door, left the tub wheirin he had milked them by neglect at his door. By comes a neigbhours cow, whow being damned thirsty, comes the by way to the tub and takes a wery hearty draught. In the mean tyme comes he that ought the milk, and seing the damage that was done him, to the Toune counsel he goes and makes a very greevous complaint, demandes that he that owes the cow that had drunk his milk pay him it. The counsel was exceedingly troubled wt this demand, never in their remembrance having had the like case throrough their fingers. After much debat on both sydes, a sutor[361] stands up and showes that he had light upon a medium to take up the difference. He askes whither it was a standing drink or not that the cow took when she drank out the milk. They replying whow could she take it but standing, he replyed that it was a most sure thing in that country, knowen to them all, that none ever payed for a standing drink. They following this decision assolzied and cleared cow wt its owner from paying ought, as having taken only a standing drink.

[361] Cobbler.

Its marked of the Aurelians[362] that they cannot drink standing, but that tho they have never so litle to drink, they most sit doune. Henry the 4't, as he was a very mery man, being at Orleans at a tyme, and my Lord maire and his Eschevins being come to sie him, he would try the truth of this. He first causes remove all the chaires and stools out of the roome, so that nothing was left that a man could sit doune on: then caused bring in win, and drinks to my L. mairs good health, then ordains him to pledge him, who begins to look about him for a seat; no, nay seat for him, wheir on he began to suspect the King had done it a purpose, he resolves to give his Majesty sport. He causes on of his Aldermen to sit doune on his knees and his hand, so that he may drink of his drink to the King on his back sitting, which he did, and at which the King did laught no litle.

[362] People of Orleans.

In the tyme of our late stirs one of the name of Gordon, called black Adam,[363] had broken in on a willage in some part of the north, and had made such a pillage that he had left nothing that was in the least worth the carrieng away. One of the women of the willage bewailling her lose wt her neighbours, demanded whow they called that wicked man that that had them the scaith. They call him Adam, quoth another, I know no more. Adam, quoth she. Adam began the world and I think he sal end it to.

[363] Edom o' Gordon.

The Irishes hes a damned respect for St. Phatrick, of whom they say, that if Christ had no bein Christ, St. Phatrick would have bein Christ, as he ware the most worthy person after Christ.

In the first part of the Romance termed _Almahide_ or _l'esclave Reyne_, penned by the renouned Scudery,[364] dedicated to Mademoiselle, the Kings sister, are brought in the toun of Grenade in a uproar by reason of 2 mighty factions, the Abencerrages, of whilk Abindarrays is the head; and the Zegris, whose head is Mohavide, betuixt whilk 2 the whole toune is divided. It comes to a cruel fight in the spatious place of Viwaramble, notwtstanding what the Mufti wt the Alcoran in his hand could say to dissuade them, who is descryved wt all the rest of the religious orders.

[364] George de Scudéri, 1601-1667.

Amongs the Abencerrages was eminently conspicous the _bell esclave_ on the head of Moray Zel, the father of Sultane Queenes party, for fear of whom the queen suffers no small greife. At last by the mediation of the King they are brought to peace; only Mohavide subornes a Alfaguy to accuse criminelly the sclave for being found wt armes in his handes against the law of the Alcoran: whos harangue is answered and refuted by Moray Zell. The King, after deip deliberation and a magnanimous harangue of the sclave, himselfe assolyies him. This reased a curiosity in Roderick de Navarre, a great Spaniard, prisoner of the Mores at that tyme, having sein the valeur of the sclave, to know what he might be: whence one Ferdnand, a old slave of the Sultane queen, begines him his story thus:

In the beginning of the reigne of Muleyhassel, whose sone reigneth at present, the greatest courtier at the court of Grenade was Morayzell; and tho their ware many brave Dames, yet none could captivate his heart, so that long tyme he was called le bel insensible. On a tyme on of his friends called Almadam came and invited him to a feigned fight of canes he was to make in the sight of his M'ris Semahis, to which at lenth yeelding, he beates him, and wines the heart of Semahis, and begines to find his oune touched. Finaly, after a combat for hir betuixt him and Almadan, in which he overthrowes Almadan, they are solennly married. About the course of a year after the beautiful Semahis gave a matchlesse daughter, which they called Almahide, and who at present is _Sultane reyne_, to the valliant Morayzel, who caused a learned Arabian cast hir Horoscope, who dressing hir figure, gave the strange answer, that the stars told him that she sould be fort sage et fort amoureuse, quelle sera en mesme temps femme et fille, Vierge et mariée, esclave et Reyne, femme d'un esclave et d'un Roy, heureuse et malheureuse, Mahometane et Chrestienne, innocente et coupable, et enfin plus estrange exposée an danger d'estre brulée toute vive. De plus quelle mourra plus contente qu'elle n'aura vescu, et que parmy les debris d'un Throne et le bouleversement d'un Royaume, son amour et son innocence la consoleront elle mesme de la perte d'une courrone que la fortune lui osterea.

This gave no smal astonishment to Moray Zel, who to evite them the better resolves to send his daughter far from Grenade, to Algiers in Africk, that if it comes to pass it may light far from Grenade. This he puts in execution, shipping in the infant at Tarriffe under the tuition of seweral slaves, but especialy of Fernand de Solis. Them we leive on the sea a while to tell another rancontre.

About 3 years before the birth of Almahide, Inez d'Arragon bore a son to hir Lord dom Pedro de Leon, due de Medine Sidonia, in Andalousy, in Spaine. The childs Horoscope the father caused to be casten by one of Toledo, who desired him to have a watchful eye of his sone til he pass 20, otherwise he may be made slave. To obey this the better Dom Pedro thought it not amisse to remove his sone from the court and city and send him to a plaisant country house called the Fountaines, wheir we leive the young Ponce de Leon, and returnes to our Almahide on the sea.