s a traitor to
the Scottish crown; but no doubt the conflict became more bitter from
the terrible cost of the victory.

[Illustration: THE CANONGATE TOLBOOTH]

Once more accordingly the kingdom was thrown into the chaos which in
those days attended a long minority, the struggle for power, the
relaxation of order, and all the evils that follow when one firm hand
full of purpose drops the reins which half a dozen conflicting
competitors scramble for. There was not, at first at least, anything of
the foolish anarchy which drove Scotland into confusion during the
childhood of James II, and opened the way to so many subsequent
disasters, for Bishop Kennedy, the dead King's chief counsellor and
support and a man universally trusted, was in the front of affairs,
influencing if not originating all that was done: and to him, almost as
a matter of course, the education of the little heir was at once
confided. But Mary of Gueldres was a woman of resolution and force, and
did not give up without a struggle her pretensions to the regency.
Buchanan relates a scene which, according to his history, took place in
Edinburgh on the occasion of the first Parliament after James's death.
The Queen had established herself in the castle while Kennedy was in
Holyrood, probably with his little pupil, but there is no mention made
of James. On the second day of the Parliament Mary appeared suddenly in
what would seem to have been, according to modern phraseology, "a packed
house," her own partisans having no doubt been warned to be present by
the action of some energetic "whip," and was, then and there, by a hasty
Act, carried through at one sitting, appointed guardian and Regent,
after which summary success she returned with great pomp to her
apartments, though with what hope of having really attained a tenable
position it is impossible to say. When the news was carried to Holyrood,
Bishop Kennedy in his turn appeared before the Estates, which had been
thus taken by surprise. It is evident that the populace of Edinburgh was
excited by what had occurred--Mary's partisans no doubt rejoicing, while
the people in general, always jealous of a foreigner and never very
respectful of a woman, surged through the great line of street towards
the castle with all the fury of a popular tumult. The High Street of
Edinburgh was not unaccustomed to sudden encounters, clashing of swords
between two passing lords, each with fierce followers, and all the risks
of