* * * * * [Sidenote: JULY.] A sad accident befell in the family of Lord Somerville, at Drum, near Edinburgh. [Sidenote: 1589.] ‘The Lord Somerville having come from Cowthally early in the morning, in regard the weather was hot, he had ridden hard to be at the Drum by ten o’clock, which having done, he laid him down to rest. The servant, with his two sons, William, Master of Somerville, and John his brother, went with the horses to ane shot of land, called the Pretty Shot, directly opposite to the front of the house, where there was some meadow-ground for grazing the horses, and willows to shadow themselves from the heat. They had not long continued in this place, when the Master of Somerville, after some little rest, awaking from his sleep, and finding his pistols that lay hard by him wet with dew, he began to rub and dry them, when unhappily one of them went off the ratch [lock], being lying on his knee and the muzzle turned sideways. The ball struck his brother John directly in the head, and killed him outright, so that his sorrowful brother never had one word from him, albeit he begged it with many tears. A lamentable case, and much to be pitied, two brave young gentlemen so nearly related, and dearly loving one another, who besides their being brethren by birth, were entirely so in affection, communicating all their affairs and designs one to the other, wherein they were never known to differ in the least.... ‘The father, hearing the shot, leapt from his [bed] (being then in the chamber of dais), to the south light, and seeing his son and servants all in a cluster, called aloud to know the matter; but receiving no answer, he suspected some mischief, and thereupon flew hastily down the stair, and went directly to the place where they were, which the gentlemen observing, they advised the Master to take him to his horse, until his father’s passion and fury should be over, which at length, upon their earnest entreaty, he did, taking his direct way for Smeaton, where his lady-mother then lived by Smeaton Ford. The father, being come upon the place, first hears the lamentation of the servants, and then sees the sad spectacle of his son all bloody and breathless, with his head laid upon a cloak, whereon he falls himself, and cries aloud: “My son, my son, dead or alive? dead or alive?” embracing him all the time, which he continued for some space, and thereby giving opportunity for his eldest son to escape. At length, finding no motion in his dear son, all in a fury he arises and cries aloud: “Where is that murderer? who has done the deed?” Staring wildly about, missing the Master, he cries out: “Oh, heavens, and is it he? Must I be bereft of two sons in one day? Yes, it must be so, and he shall have no other judge nor executioner but myself and these hands.” And with that immediately mounts his horse, commanding two of his servants to attend him, making