Towards the close of David’s reign the peace of Scotland was disturbed for a considerable time by the pretensions of a most extraordinary imposter, who, by a singular chance, has been confounded by the historians of the last five hundred years with the very person whose son, or nephew, he seems to have attempted to personate. In the course of 1134, the same year in which Malcolm MacHeth was committed to Roxburgh castle, Olave Godredson, king of Man, granted certain lands to Ivo, abbot of Furness, for the erection of a priory at Rushen; and amongst the brotherhood who, either at that time or subsequently, were sent into the Isle of Man, was a monk of the name of Wimund, a man of obscure birth but of considerable talents, and still greater and most unscrupulous ambition. His jovial countenance and ready eloquence, his stalwart frame and commanding stature--for he towered a head and shoulders above the height of ordinary men--marked him out as a fit leader for an ignorant and excitable multitude, though scarcely in the capacity of a bishop. Yet the Manxmen thought otherwise, and, in process of time, Wimund was advanced to the see of the Isles; though such peaceful dignity suiting ill with his restless disposition, he only regarded his appointment as a stepping stone to further advancement, soon giving himself out as a son of the Earl of Moray, and inviting the boldest and most reckless of his wild flock to assist in avenging the injuries, and recovering the possessions, of his supposed father, promising unlimited plunder to all who followed him to Scotland. The descendants of the old sea-rovers flocked eagerly to the call of their singular pastor, whose influence over them was unbounded, and the warlike bishop lost no time in leading his followers to the pillage of the western coasts. His proceedings, ere long, proved him to be no mean proficient in the tactics of partizan warfare. The approach of a hostile force was the signal for immediate departure, Wimund and his followers dispersed amongst the islands, and upon the arrival of the royal army the sole tidings of the enemy were the reports of his excesses in another direction. No sooner had his pursuers retraced their steps, than the bishop and his satellites were again on the alert, carrying fire and sword throughout the district just evacuated; and so often and so successfully were these tactics repeated, that David is said to have experienced more trouble and anxiety on account of this turbulent monk, than through any other enemy during the whole course of his reign. Once, only, he sustained a check, which he received from an appropriate quarter--another bishop, who refusing to submit to his demand for tribute on the singular, but strictly ecclesiastical, grounds that “one bishop should not pay tribute to another,” summoned his own flock to resist the unorthodox intrusion, and launched a light battle-axe at the head of Wimund with an aim so