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"He resisted the ambition of Henry VIII., carrying on the policy of Bishop Kennedy, and of Lamber

To the list of another year is ton and Frazer, and the other prelates added the note

"Grete quantite of insight brought awaye, over and besydes a grete quantite of corne and insight and a greate nombre of all sortes of catail burned in the townes and howss, and is not numbred in the lettres, and menye menne also hurt.”


The last phases of this warfare were the most horrible. The atrocities alleged against Wallace at Hexham, and the butchery with which Edward I. signalised the sack of Berwick, stand out distinct from the general character of the war of independence, which generally conducted on fair lines, often modified by quixotic chivalry. But, as we approach the close of the long strife between the nations, a new and sinister glare floods the scene, shed from the balefires of religious controversy. It is difficult to treat dispassionately, even at this day, of the behaviour of Catholics and Protestants to each other; and one becomes conscious of more gall in Mr Lang's ink as he writes the last chapter of the volume-The Tragedy of the Cardinal. His sympathies are manifestly with the old faith; those of most of his Scottish readers will be with the new it is here, therefore, that offence, if offence there be, is most likely to be found. The author would have carried more persons with him had Cardinal Beaton presented a worthier

who backed Wallace and Bruce in the War of Independence. His motives, of course, were no more purely sentimental than those of Bishop Kennedy or other politicians. Beaton was a great ecclesiastic of the Renaissance : he may have been as sceptical as many of his peers. In fighting for the Church and against England he was fighting for his own hand, for wealth and power-his own and that of the clergy. . . . Against him were Henry; the wealth and arms of Engthe utterly unscrupulous ambition of land; the hired partisans of England among the nobles, and the rapid spread of the new ideas. In resisting all these he displayed unrivalled tenacity, great political courage (though his personal bravery has been impeached), with much craft and subtlety, it is to be feared with entire ruthlessness, and with unwearying resolution. Beaton was no saint; he lived in open relations with Marioun or Mariot Ogilvy (a lady of the House of Airlie), by whom he had a family. His wealth was unapostolic. He rarely appears as learning the times were too confused. He put into force the laws of the land against heresy, just as More did, and as Henry himself was doing, though in some respects with less ecclesiastical statesman of the time, cruelty. In brief, he was a great but to call him (as some do) ‘the infamous Beaton' is to show a lack of the historical sense, and blindness to historical perspective."

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We remain unconvinced. Laying aside his conventional attributes as a "great ecclesiastical statesman," what epithet more precisely fits that dignitary of the Church who, living in cynically flagrant sin himself, burnt humble heretics wholesale (he hired fifty-four cart-horses in one day to con

and sword without exception where resistance shall be made against you." That traitorous Scot, Sir George Douglas, repeatedly warned Henry in his letters that he would never win Scotland, "by reason of the extreme war that is used in killing women and young children."

We have written frankly on certain views in which we cannot concur with the author, but that does not one whit detract from our welcome to this work nor our enjoyment in its perusal.

vey his victims to the stake), and drowned " a woman for praying to God and Christ rather than to the Virgin when in childbed"? If to pronounce such actions and such a life infamous, no matter what may have been other actions and other lives at the time, be inconsistent with historical sense and perspective, so much the worse for history: they must for ever remain stamped with infamy. In an age when so many and so better souls were dismissed by the assassin's blade, we can find no special tears to We willingly leave to shed for the victim-no special others the task of criticising vials of wrath to invoke upon style, boggling over colloquialhis butchers. The rugged, un- isms, and complaining of a few lovely figure of John Knox, obscurities. The last arise with all his venom and acri- chiefly from the author assummony, even with so much of ing too much acquaintance with the falsehood imputed to him historical detail on the part of by Mr Lang as may be his due, his reader, as in 1544, when compels from us a reverence Arran is referred to as having which the gross Cardinal can "unleashed a Protestant Donever command. When Mr minican preacher whom the Lang sighs" with David people were anxious to lynch." Beaton slain and with Knox But before closing this remarkhurrying forward to assume a able and delightful volume we power greater than Beaton's, must be so ungracious as to we may say of old Catholic utter a complaint, by reason Scotland, as said the dying that the notes and the refCardinal, Fie, all is gone!' -we can allow it so to go, feeling that it had passed beyond redemption.

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Nevertheless, the ferocity was not all upon the Cardinal's side. Let no man ride away with that notion. Henry VIII.'s political wooing was tiger-like in its savagery. His Privy Council sent orders to Hertford, commanding the field force in Scot land in 1543, that he was to burn and destroy, "putting man, woman, and child to fire

erences are huddled together inconveniently at the end of each chapter, instead of comfortably at the foot of each page. What reader is there who does not owe some of his most succulent morsels of knowledge to information packed modestly away in footnoteslike those delicate pieces on the back of a fowl called by epicures les-sots-les-laissent-the savour whereof is sadly wasted before they can be overtaken several pages ahead?



AT the time of the outbreak of the Indian Mutiny my brother and I were engaged in business as indigo-planters and merchants in Fatehgarh. We occupied a bungalow together in the civil station on the banks of the river Ganges, where we led a happy life amid a wide circle of friends residing in Fatehgarh and the surrounding district. Indigo in those days was a prosperous manufacture, and the life of the merchant lay in pleasant places. The Germans had not then invented aniline to supplant it and wipe the "true blue" out of existence. The old race of planters, whose prestige stood high with the natives, and whose verbal promise was as good as a bond, is fast disappearing, and the link that held them in touch with the rulers and the people will soon be a matter of tradition. To return, however, to the past. Whilst living in profound peace, happy in our Indian home, strange rumours reached our ears, disquieting, yet discredited. Presently we were startled by news of mutinous regiments, and before we could realise what that meant reports of outbreaks poured in in quick succession, together with alarming accounts of murders and massacres. The whole country seemed perturbed, and

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garrisoned the station and fort. Evidence confirmatory of these rumours accumulated daily, spreading consternation and dismay among the residents; and meetings were held hurriedly to concert measures for the protection of the ladies and children, and to take steps for the defence of the station.

The awkwardness of the situation, however, however, rendered unanimity impossible, and paralysed the counsels of the authorities. The military officers, in spite of evidence and the trend of passing events, refused to believe that their sepoys were disloyal, and declined to do anything that might savour of distrust. Under the circumstances, the civil authorities were unable to take the initiative, and they refused to abandon the station as long as the sepoys were held together. It was their plain duty to stick to their posts, though convinced of the insecurity of their position. It was a most painful dilemma, and the lives of something like 300 Europeans hung upon prompt action. The roads to Cawnpore and Agra were still open, and escape was still possible for the majority if measures were instantly adopted for their removal. The unofficial residents, fully alive to the emergency, resolved upon taking the matter into their own hands. They decided to secure boats for themselves and their families,

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and to hold them in readiness to quit the station at a moment's notice and to pull down to Cawnpore, which, equipped as it was with a strong European garrison and easy of access under any circumstances, we never doubted for an instant would be safe. The civil authorities and others unconnected with the regiment joined in the scheme, and the great body of planters, merchants, and missionaries lost no time in providing the boats, which, it was arranged, should be moored under the magistrate's bungalow, ready to cast off at a given signal. We all slept either on the boats or in the houses of friends in their vicinity. Our lives during the period of suspense and waiting were anything but enviable. The heat was awful, and every hour was rendered terrible by alarms by day, while by night the bazaarmen shouted and discharged firearms to keep off marauders, and the dogs howled in sympathy, making night hideous and chasing away rest. We were painfully distracted, and in every mind the wish was uppermost that the crisis might come and relieve us of the intolerable tension of inaction and suspense.

I think it was on the 3rd of June that the news arrived of the mutiny of the 9th Native Infantry at Aligarh, a neigh

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bouring station. ported that the mutineers were marching on Fatehgarh, from which they were then a day's march distant. The effect of this rumour was electrical. The residents hurried to the boats, there to await eventualities and the signal that was to sever them from their cherished homes. The conduct of the 10th on that occasion was as exemplary as it was unexpected. They obeyed the orders of their commandant cheerfully, and showed no indication of a disposition to fraternise with the 9th. The spy with letters from the mutineers was given up to the colonel, whose orders to barricade and defend the roads. were carried out with alacrity. Every preparation was made to give the invaders a warm reception; but whether the station would have stood the test of actual attack is problematical. The immediate effect, however, was satisfactory, as the wouldbe invaders, getting wind of the doings at Fatehgarh, prudently turned their faces in the direction of Delhi. I may here mention that the 10th, having served in Burmah, whither they were conveyed in ships, and having thus crossed the "black waters,' were looked upon as outcasts, and regarded with suspicion and distrust. This fact no doubt influenced the course of action taken by the 9th.


It is almost certain that had matters ended there that night the whole trouble would have

passed over quietly and events have taken a different turn. Unhappily the colonel found it

necessary to remove the treasure from the collector's office to a place of greater safety, and the sight of the great bags of rupees proved too much for his men, who lost all control of themselves and clamoured for their custody, refusing to obey orders or to listen to reason, and threatening violence to their officers. The confusion and disturbance were great, and the din of the bazaars redoubled. The news of this incident, together with the report of the subsequent looting of the treasure, was conveyed to us at midnight, magnified and exaggerated as only native gossip can be; and the sudden blazing of a large stack of thatching grass, suggesting the firing of bungalows, completed our consternation. There was no further need to await the long-looked-for signal for departure. The fleet of something like twenty boats cast off and dropped down the stream, the majority of the occupants never to return again.

Who can possibly describe what passed through the minds of those unhappy voyagers? The youthful members of the party, unable to realise the forlorn nature of the move and supported by the natural buoyancy of their spirits, refused to be cast down by the gloomy outlook. But the agonies of fathers and mothers, torn from their homes, homes, with fortunes wrecked and their dear ones in dire danger, were terrible; and how earnest must have been their appeals to heaven for deliverance from the cruel hands of the enemy!

gling boats drifted with the sluggish stream, the native boatmen toiling wearily at their unwieldy oars, producing just enough way to keep the boats' heads straight while the Europeans, armed with their sporting guns and rifles, kept a sharp look-out and urged the labouring manjis (boatmen) with promises and threats. By daylight next morning we had put eight or ten miles between us and Fatehgarh, our progress having been delayed by the frequent grounding of the boats in the shallows. By break of day unforeseen difficulties and dangers began to manifest themselves, foreshadowing worse to come. Our hopes that the villagers would not be hostile or molest our passage were rudely dispelled at Singhirampur, a large village situated on a prominent height of the river - bank. Here the inhabitants turned out in force and demanded immediate surrender, emphasising their threats with a discharge of matchlocks. A prompt reply from the boats soon undeceived the fellows, and we rapidly pulled through the fire without sustaining any loss or damage.

The small guard of Oudh Thakurs provided by Koer Hardeo Buksh—a powerful talukhdar in Oudh-for the protection of Mr Probyn, the magistrate, whose friendship he had won, foreseeing greater dangers ahead, counselled the party not to proceed farther without consulting Hardeo Buksh. A messenger was despatched to him at once, while we continued on our journey to the mouth of the Slowly the long line of strag- Ramganga, there to await his

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