DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.6912#0091
62
ARCHITECTURAL ANTIQUITIES.
victualls, so that it was thought to be the chiefest towne in all Lothian, except
Edinburgh and Hadingtone. He rewarded the masons according to their degree;
as to the master masone he gave 40 pounds yearly, and to every one of the rest he
gave 10 pounds, and accordingly did he reward the others, as the smiths and the
carpenters with others."*
* Eveiy phenomenon of nature, or extraordinary effort of art, was formerly the parent of some strange
legendary tale, or romantic story. In the gloomy ages of ignorance such occurrences were always deemed mar-
vellous. The castle, chapel, and lairds of Roslyn were certainly calculated to amaze the illiterate, and intimidate
the weak. Among other stories illustrative of this, the following are recorded : Robert Bruce, King of Scotland,
in following the chase on Pentland-hills, near Roslyn, had often started a "white faunch deer, which had as often
escaped from his hounds. Surprised at this, the monarch asked his nobles, one day when they were assembled
around him, if any of them had dogs which they thought would be more successful ? At first all were silent, for
the true courtiers were fearful of offending by even hinting at a competitorship with their King. At length Sir
William St. Clair, of Roslyn, boldly but unceremoniously said, " he would wager his head that his two
favourite dogs, Help and Hold, would kill the deer before it could cross the March-burn." The King instantly
caught at his unwary offer, and betted the forest of Pentland-moor, against the proposed wager. An early time
was appointed to decide the event:—all were expectant—all were anxious :—the heart beat alternately with hope
and fear. The hunters reach the " heathern steeps," and Sir William posting himself in the best situation for
slipping his dogs, prayed devoutly to Christ, the Virgin Mary, and St. Katharine. The deer is started, the hounds
are slipped, when Sir William spurs his gallant steed, and cheers the dogs. The deer reaches the middle of the
March-burn brook, the hounds are still in the rear, and our hero's life is at its crisis. An awful moment; the
hunter threw himself from his horse in despair; and fate seemed to sport with his feelings. At this critical
moment, however, Hold fastened on his game, and Help coming up, turned the deer back, and killed it close by Sir
William's side. The generous monarch embraced the knight, and bestowed on him the lands of Kirktown, Logan-
house, Earnsham, &c. in free-forestrie. Sir William, as an acknowledgment, and in gratitude for St. Katharine's
intercession, built a chapel to her memory in the Hopes, where its cemetery still remains —The hill where the
monarch viewed the chase is yet called the King's-hill, and the place where Sir William hunted is still called the
Knight's-field. In Roslyn Chapel is a tomb for Sir William St. Clair, on which the knight is represented in armour,
with a greyhound at his feet; and the local cireroni in explaining the chapel to strangers, commonly repeats this
story of the hunting match, with some additions, &c. one of which is, that the knight in his last emergency became
poetical, and thus exclaimed—
" Help, haud, an' ye may,
Or Roslyn will lose his head this day "
This fable is recorded by a sculptured representation of a deer and a dog, on one of the capitals of a column
in the chapel.
Another superstitious story relating to this edifice, and to the Saintclair family, is to the following purport.
Previous to the decease of any member of that illustrious house, the common people believed, and indeed some
above the lower order acquiesced in the popular belief, that Roslyn Chapel was to be seen all in flames, without
sustaining any injury. An instance of second-sighted credulity!
" Seemed all on fire that chapel proud.
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie;
Each baron, for a sable shroud.
Sheathed in his iron panoply.
Seemed all on fire within, around.
Deep sacristy and altar's pale;
ARCHITECTURAL ANTIQUITIES.
victualls, so that it was thought to be the chiefest towne in all Lothian, except
Edinburgh and Hadingtone. He rewarded the masons according to their degree;
as to the master masone he gave 40 pounds yearly, and to every one of the rest he
gave 10 pounds, and accordingly did he reward the others, as the smiths and the
carpenters with others."*
* Eveiy phenomenon of nature, or extraordinary effort of art, was formerly the parent of some strange
legendary tale, or romantic story. In the gloomy ages of ignorance such occurrences were always deemed mar-
vellous. The castle, chapel, and lairds of Roslyn were certainly calculated to amaze the illiterate, and intimidate
the weak. Among other stories illustrative of this, the following are recorded : Robert Bruce, King of Scotland,
in following the chase on Pentland-hills, near Roslyn, had often started a "white faunch deer, which had as often
escaped from his hounds. Surprised at this, the monarch asked his nobles, one day when they were assembled
around him, if any of them had dogs which they thought would be more successful ? At first all were silent, for
the true courtiers were fearful of offending by even hinting at a competitorship with their King. At length Sir
William St. Clair, of Roslyn, boldly but unceremoniously said, " he would wager his head that his two
favourite dogs, Help and Hold, would kill the deer before it could cross the March-burn." The King instantly
caught at his unwary offer, and betted the forest of Pentland-moor, against the proposed wager. An early time
was appointed to decide the event:—all were expectant—all were anxious :—the heart beat alternately with hope
and fear. The hunters reach the " heathern steeps," and Sir William posting himself in the best situation for
slipping his dogs, prayed devoutly to Christ, the Virgin Mary, and St. Katharine. The deer is started, the hounds
are slipped, when Sir William spurs his gallant steed, and cheers the dogs. The deer reaches the middle of the
March-burn brook, the hounds are still in the rear, and our hero's life is at its crisis. An awful moment; the
hunter threw himself from his horse in despair; and fate seemed to sport with his feelings. At this critical
moment, however, Hold fastened on his game, and Help coming up, turned the deer back, and killed it close by Sir
William's side. The generous monarch embraced the knight, and bestowed on him the lands of Kirktown, Logan-
house, Earnsham, &c. in free-forestrie. Sir William, as an acknowledgment, and in gratitude for St. Katharine's
intercession, built a chapel to her memory in the Hopes, where its cemetery still remains —The hill where the
monarch viewed the chase is yet called the King's-hill, and the place where Sir William hunted is still called the
Knight's-field. In Roslyn Chapel is a tomb for Sir William St. Clair, on which the knight is represented in armour,
with a greyhound at his feet; and the local cireroni in explaining the chapel to strangers, commonly repeats this
story of the hunting match, with some additions, &c. one of which is, that the knight in his last emergency became
poetical, and thus exclaimed—
" Help, haud, an' ye may,
Or Roslyn will lose his head this day "
This fable is recorded by a sculptured representation of a deer and a dog, on one of the capitals of a column
in the chapel.
Another superstitious story relating to this edifice, and to the Saintclair family, is to the following purport.
Previous to the decease of any member of that illustrious house, the common people believed, and indeed some
above the lower order acquiesced in the popular belief, that Roslyn Chapel was to be seen all in flames, without
sustaining any injury. An instance of second-sighted credulity!
" Seemed all on fire that chapel proud.
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie;
Each baron, for a sable shroud.
Sheathed in his iron panoply.
Seemed all on fire within, around.
Deep sacristy and altar's pale;