Part 3 (1/2)
”By catching at crag after crag, and digging their fingers into the interstices of the rocks, they succeeded in mounting a considerable way; but the weather was now so thick, they could receive but little a.s.sistance from their eyes; and thus they continued to climb, almost in utter darkness, like men struggling up a precipice in the night-mare.
They at length reached a shelving table of the cliff, above which the ascent, for ten or twelve feet, was perpendicular; and having fixed their ladder, the whole party lay down to recover breath.
”From this place they could hear the tread and voices of the 'check watches,' or patrol, above; and, surrounded by the perils of such a moment, it is not wonderful that some illusions may have mingled with their thoughts. They even imagined that they were seen from the battlements, although, being themselves unable to see the warders, this was highly improbable. It became evident, notwithstanding, from the words they caught here and there in the pauses of the night-wind, that the conversation of the English soldiers above related to a surprise of the Castle; and at length these appalling words broke like thunder on their ears: 'Stand! I see you well!' A fragment of the rock was hurled down at the same instant; and as rus.h.i.+ng from crag to crag it bounded over their heads, Randolph and his brave followers, in this wild, helpless, and extraordinary situation, felt the damp of mortal terror gathering upon their brow, as they clung with a death-grip to the precipice.
”The startled echoes of the rock were at length silent, and so were the voices above. The adventurers paused, listening breathless; no sound was heard but the sighing of the wind, and the measured tread of the sentinel who had resumed his walk. The men thought they were in a dream, and no wonder; for the incident just mentioned, which is related by Barbour, was one of the most singular coincidences that ever occurred. The shout of the sentinel and the missile he had thrown, were merely a boyish freak; and while listening to the echoes of the rock, he had not the smallest idea that the sounds which gave pleasure to him carried terror and almost despair into the hearts of the enemy.
”The adventurers, half uncertain whether they were not the victims of some illusion, determined that it was as safe to go on as to turn back; and pursuing their laborious and dangerous path, they at length reached the bottom of the wall. This last barrier they scaled by means of their ladder; and leaping down among the astonished check-watches, they cried their war-cry, and in the midst of answering shouts of 'treason!
treason!' notwithstanding the desperate resistance of the garrison, captured the Castle of Edinburgh.”
Sit down here on the edge of this parapet. That huge cannon there is called Mons Meg, from being cast at _Mons_, in Flanders, and reminds us, somewhat significantly, of the terrible use to which all the arrangements of the Castle are applied.[12] How singular, that men have to be governed and controlled like bull-dogs, that castles and dungeons, halters, and cannon, are necessary to keep them from stealing each other's property, or cutting each other's throats! Surely mankind have ills enough to bear without turning upon each other like tigers.
[Footnote 12: At present it is used as a barracks for soldiers and a magazine of arms.]
”Many and sharp the numerous ills, Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves, Regret, remorse, and shame; And man, whose heaven-erected face The smiles of love adorn, Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn.”
BURNS.
But all is quiet now. The tendency of the times is to peace; and Edinburgh Castle, Mons Meg, and the whole array of cannon bristling over the precipice, are but objects of natural curiosity or of poetical interest.
Do you see yonder turreted building, with high pointed gables and castellated walls, in the Elizabethan style, just beyond the Gra.s.s Market. That is George Heriot's Hospital, one of the proudest monuments of the city, and one of the most beautiful symbols of its peaceful prosperity. It was founded by the rich and benevolent George Heriot, jeweller to King James the Sixth, ”Jingling Geordie,” as he is quaintly termed in the ”Fortunes of Nigel.” It is of vast extent, as you perceive, and presents a good specimen of the mixed style of architecture prevalent in the days of Queen Mary. The object of this n.o.ble inst.i.tution is the maintenance and education of poor and fatherless boys, or of boys in indigent circ.u.mstances, ”freemen's sons of the town of Edinburgh.” Of these, one hundred and eighty receive ample board and education within its walls. By this means they are thoroughly prepared for the active business of life, each receiving at his dismissal a Bible, and other useful books, with two suits of clothes chosen by himself. Those going out as apprentices are allowed $50 per annum for five years, and $25 at the termination of their apprentices.h.i.+p. Boys of superior scholars.h.i.+p are permitted to stay longer in the inst.i.tution, and are fitted for college. For this purpose they receive $150 per annum, for four years. Connected with this inst.i.tution are seven free schools, in the different parishes of the city, for the support of which its surplus funds are applied. In these upwards of two thousand children receive a good common school education.
The girls, in addition to the ordinary branches, are taught knitting and sewing.
In addition to these provisions for the education of the poor, there are also ten ”bursaries,” or university scholars.h.i.+ps, open to the compet.i.tion of young men, not connected with the inst.i.tution. The successful candidates receive $100 per annum for four years. No wonder that Sir Walter Scott felt authorized to put into the mouth of the princely founder of these charities the striking sentiment: ”I think mine own estate and memory, as I shall order it, has a fair chance of outliving those of greater men.”
Edinburgh abounds in charitable hospitals, and particularly in free educational inst.i.tutions, in the support of which the citizens evince a laudable enthusiasm. Thus, for example, we have Watson's Hospital, the Merchant Maiden's Hospital, the Trades' Maiden Hospital, Trinity College Hospital, Cauvin's Hospital, a little out of the city; Gillespie's Hospital, Donaldson's Hospital, Chalmers's Hospital, the House of Refuge, the House of Industry, the Strangers' Friend Society, the Inst.i.tution for the Relief of poor old Men, and another for the Relief of indigent old Women, and many others.
Below us, on one side of High Street, you see the fine old Gothic Cathedral of St. Giles. It was founded in the twelfth or thirteenth century, and named after St. Giles, abbot and confessor, and tutelar saint of Edinburgh in the olden time. The Scottish poet, Gavin Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld, was sometime provost of St. Giles. He translated Virgil into English, the first version of a cla.s.sic ever made in Britain, and was the author of ”The Palace of Honor,” from which some have absurdly supposed that John Bunyan borrowed the idea of the ”Pilgrim's Progress.” This edifice is interesting, chiefly as connecting the past with the present condition of Scotland, and indicating the mighty transitions through which it has pa.s.sed. In the fifteenth century incense ascended from forty different altars within its walls; now it contains three Protestant places of wors.h.i.+p. Once it enshrined the relics of St. Giles; now its cemetery contains the body of John Knox! On the 13th of October, 1643, ”the solemn League and Covenant” was sworn to and subscribed within its walls, by the Committee of the Estates of Parliament, the Commission of the Church, and the English Commission.
The sacred vessels and relics which it contained, including the arm-bone of the patron saint, were seized by the magistrates of the city, and the proceeds of their sale applied to the repairing of the building.
Puritanism has thus often showed itself a rough and tempestuous reformer; nevertheless it possesses wonderful vitality, and has conferred upon Scotland the blessings of civil and religious liberty.
Its outer form is often hard and defective, and its movements irregular and convulsive, but its inner spirit is ever generous and free. Its rudeness and excess none will approve; its life, energy, and activity, all will admire. It came forth, like a thunder-cloud, from the mountains. Its quick lightning-flashes went cras.h.i.+ng amid the old images of papal wors.h.i.+p. The atmosphere of spiritual pollution was agitated and purified. Upon the parched ground fell gentle and refres.h.i.+ng showers.
The sun of freedom began to smile upon hill and valley, and the whole land rejoiced under its placid influence.
CHAPTER IV.
John Knox's House--History of the Reformer--His Character--Carlyle's View--Testimony of John Milton.
Let us now descend from the Castle, and, pa.s.sing down High Street, turn to the left, at the head of the Nether-bow, where we shall see the house of that stern but glorious old reformer, John Knox. There it is, looking mean enough now among those miserable gin-shops, paint-shops, and so forth; yet hallowed by the recollections of the past. Over the door is an inscription, invisible from the numerous sign-boards that cover it, containing the spirit and essence of that lofty Puritanism which Knox preached:
”LUFE . G.o.d . ABOVE . ALL . AND . YOUR . NICHBOUR . AS . YOURSELF.”
In this house Knox lived many years; here also he died in holy triumph; and from that little window he is said frequently to have addressed the populace. A rude stone effigy of the Reformer may be seen at the corner, and near it, cut in the stone, the name of G.o.d, in Greek, Latin, and English. It is gratifying to know that measures have recently been taken to erect a monument to Knox, near this spot, which shall be worthy of his memory.
The character of Knox has been terribly blackened by heartless and infidel historians, and especially by sickly sentimentalists of the Werter school. Nevertheless, he was a n.o.ble-hearted, truth-loving, sham-hating, G.o.d-fearing, self-sacrificing man; a hero in the proper sense of the word, a minister of righteousness, an angel of Reform. Not, indeed, a soft, baby-faced, puling sentimentalist; but a lofty, iron-hearted man, who ”never feared the face of clay,” and did G.o.d's will, in spite of devils, popes, and kings. His history possesses the deepest and most romantic interest. It is one of the most magnificent pa.s.sages in Scottish story. Bruce battled for a crown; Knox battled for the truth. Both conquered, after long toils and struggles; and conquered mainly by the might of their single arm. But the glory which irradiates the head of the Reformer far outs.h.i.+nes that of the hero of Bannockburn, for the latter is earthly and evanescent; the former celestial and immortal.
John Knox was born in Haddington, not far from Edinburgh, of poor but honest parents, in the year 1505; grew up in solitude; was destined for the church; received a thorough collegiate education; became an honest friar; wore the monk's cowl for many years; adopted silently and unostentatiously the principles of the Protestant Reformation; spent much of his time in teaching, and in the prosecution of liberal studies, of which he was considered a master; was suddenly and unexpectedly called, at St. Andrews, by the unanimous voice of his brethren, to the preaching of the Word, and the defence of their religious liberties; after a brief struggle with himself yielded to the call, n.o.bly threw himself into the breach, at the hazard of his life, attacked ”Papal idolatry” with unsparing vigor, was seized by the authorities, and sent a prisoner to France in 1547, where he worked in the galleys as a slave, but evermore maintaining his lofty courage and cheerful hope; was set at liberty two years afterwards; preached in England in the time of Edward the Sixth; refused a bishopric from the best of kings; retired to the continent at the accession of Mary, residing chiefly at Geneva and Frankfort; returned to Scotland in 1555; labored with indomitable perseverance to establish Protestantism; rebuked the great for immorality, profaneness and rapacity, and succeeded in greatly strengthening the cause of truth and freedom. At the earnest solicitation of the English congregation in Geneva, he went thither a second time; there he published ”The First Blast of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regiment (Government) of Women,” directed princ.i.p.ally against Mary, Queen of England, and Mary of Guise, Regent of Scotland, two narrow-minded miserable despots; returned to Scotland in 1559; continued his exertions in behalf of Christ's truth; did much to establish common schools; finally saw Protestantism triumphant in Scotland; and died in 1572, so poor that his family had scarce sufficient to bury him, but with the universal love and homage of his countrymen, a conscience void of offence, and a hope full of immortality. ”He had a sore fight of an existence; wrestling with popes and princ.i.p.alities; in defeat, contention, life-long struggle; rowing as a galley-slave, wandering as an exile. A sore fight, but he won it.