Chapter XVIII By Lauder Bridge
The Ancient Royal Burgh of Lauder, a quaint little border town with hardly more than one street, is on the banks of the river Leader, on the high road between Edinburgh and Kelso. It stands very picturesquely, among the bold hills and fine woods of Berwickshire, and the valley is called Lauderdale, extending to where the Leader joins the Tweed, just below Melrose. Peacefully beautiful is the spot; and yet it was once the scene of a harsh, grim tragedy.
It was in the reign of King James III. of Scotland, who offended his subjects in two particulars.
First, to get wealth for himself, he mixed brass and lead with his silver money, and put it into circulation as pure silver; next, he chose favourites from the common people, and set these above the proud noblemen of Scotland.
This latter would not have been so bad a fault if the king had always chosen wisely; but, as often in such cases, he was led by flatterers rather than by worthy men.
In 1482 the king declared war against England, and, as in these warlike days the nobles were the leaders of the army, this brought the discontented lords together.
When the Scottish army reached Lauder in their southward march, the proud nobles met in Lauder church; all were angry with the king, yet each was afraid to make the first move. So Lord Gray told them a mocking fable.
“Do you remember,” said he, “how all the mice got together and agreed that it would be a splendid thing if a bell were hung round the cat’s neck, so that wherever she went she could be heard; the only difficulty was to find a mouse to bell the cat!”
These warlike nobles did not like to be spoken of as if they were mice, and it roused them to deeper rage.
Then out spoke Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, the head of the younger branch of the Douglas family. “Trust me, I’ll bell the cat!”
There was a knock at the door; Cochrane, the architect, whom the nobles said had been a mason, but was now the king’s chief favourite, entered, dressed in black velvet, with a heavy chain of gold round his neck, a horn of gold tipped with precious stones, and all his attire of the costliest. Angus caught the chain in his hands and said, “A rope would suit that neck better!”
Then the nobles laid violent hands on all the king’s low-born favourites and hanged them by the bridge of Lauder, in front of the king’s very eyes! Cochrane was proud and brave to the last. He said that as the king had made him an earl he should be hanged with a rope made of silk; little did the nobles care for his protests, the halter of a horse was in their opinion good enough for him.
From this time onward the headstrong Earl of Angus was known by the nick-name of “Bell-the-Cat.” It may be taken for granted that neither he nor the nobles who supported him would have dared to act so arrogantly and violently unless they felt quite sure that the king had not the power to punish them. He returned sullenly to Edinburgh, more the captive of the nobles than their master.
A parliament appointed the Duke of Albany lieutenant-general of the kingdom, but he in turn soon lost favour, for he was suspected of too great a friendship for Edward IV., King of England, and fled for safety to France, giving James another chance to govern his kingdom for himself.
This weak and unhappy monarch, however, was not destined to have much peace. Before very long, another quarrel with his nobles led to their taking up arms with a view of deposing him and placing his son on the throne. The king and his nobles met in battle near Stirling, but, at the very beginning of the fight, James was thrown from his horse and stabbed by a soldier, whose name remained unknown. Thus died this weak but amiable and unfortunate king.