The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1859-05-05
The Last Victim of the Scottish,
Maiden.
A TRUE TALE OF THE SEVENTEENTH cENTrR

TRUE TALE OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
A Scottish maiden! What pleasant vision
do not these words call up. Who that has
ever kept his twelfth of August on the north
ern moors could fail to be reminded by them
of some bright-eyed Highland lassie whom
he has met at early dawn of day, crossing the
mountain stream barefoot, with her plaid
thrown over her fair hair. and her clear voice
singing out an old sweet ballad of her native
land; or haply, if he has had an eatree to
the homes of the Scottish aristocracy, they
will bring before him some yet fairer picture
7r.of pure pale face, where eyes of blue, ten
der as the morning sky, spoke ola noble and
truthful soul within; and he has learnt to
love the race that once had such deadly feuds
with his Saxon ancestry, because of the
glamour cast around him by the golden
haired daughters of the land
But very different is the real picture of the
Scottish maiden of VIII ,m we are about to
speak; nor was she any vision of the fancy
but a terrible reality, whom all men knew
and feared throughout broad Scotland, two
hundred years ago. A dark and stern lady
was she truly, and one who brooked no rivals
for they whom she had once embraced
were never clasped to mortal hear, again !;
and rhe lovers whom she powed on her
bosom slept sleep that knew no waking
Few there were, even of the bravest, who did
not shudder somewhat as they saw her keep
ing her unchanging watch throughout storm
and sunshine, beneath the shadow Of old ST.
Giles, the principal church of the northern
capital; and oftentimes, when they saw how
the ground beneath her feet was stained with
Blood they muttered curses on the '.loathly
madin," that has done to death so many
gallant Scot. Yet to some, this gastly lady
(Which was no other than the public guillot-
ine) appeared to have attractions, such as
many bright eyed damsel would have en-.
Sied; lor it is recorded of the noble Marquis
of Argyle, the last who died in her embrace,
when our story commences, that he ran ca
gerly up the steps, and exclaimed, as he laid
iii' hNso uIoh tiC ulOCA, lS LHe SWpSl-
est maiden | have ever kissed" This say
ing of his was often cited, and the world
wondered what hidden pang had so darkened
life for the gallant noble, whose homage was
courted by the fairest ladies, that he should
die with words Of such bitter meaning on his
lips; but when, some few years later, the
maiden pressed with her cold hand the throat
ofhm who owed to be her latest victim.
the strange and tragic circumstances of his
death obiiterated all recollections of the mar.
quis and his dying words.
1t happened, singularly enough, howevet
that these two, the Lord of Argyle and Ken
elm Hamilton, who succeeded him on the
block, had been in life the deadliest enemies:
and, by peculiar chain of circumstances,
which we shall now proceed to detail, the
death of the one caused that of the other.
1t was about month after the execution of
the marquis that Hamilton, whose race so
closely allied to .he kings of Scotland, was
even prouder than Argyle's, found himself
compelled, by political business, to pass
night in the little town of Inverary, close to