Part 17

Morton was condemned for being ‘airt and part’[120] concerned in the murder of Darnley. He was more clearly an actor in the cruel slaughter of Riccio. After doing his best to insnare Mary into a marriage with Bothwell, he had headed a rebellion against her on hypocritical pretences. The extortions he had practised during his regency, in order to enrich himself, shewed an equally sordid and cruel character. Throughout all the time of his government, he had outraged decency by the grossness of his private life. Yet ‘he had great comfort that he died a Christian, in the true and sincere profession of religion, whilk he cravit all the faithful to follow, and abide thereat to the death.’--_Moy._ ‘He keepit the same countenance, gesture, and short sententious form of language upon the scaffold, whilk he usit in his princely government. He spake, led about and urgit by the commanders at the four nooks of the scaffold; but after that ance he had very fectfully[121] and gravely uttered, at guid length, that whilk he had to speak, thereafter almaist he altered not thir words: “It is for my sins that God has justly brought me to this place; for gif I had served my God as truly as I did my king, I had not come here. But as for that I am condemned for by men, I am innocent, as God knows. Pray for me.” ... I [am] content to have recordit the wark of God, whilk I saw with my ees and heard with my ears.’--_Ja. Mel._

[Illustration: The Maiden.]

‘After all was done, he went without fear and laid his neck upon the block, crying continually: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,” till the axe of the Maiden--which he himself had caused make after the pattern which he had seen at Halifax in Yorkshire--falling upon his neck, put an end to his life and that note together. His body was carried to the Tolbooth, and buried secretly in the night in the Greyfriars. His head was affixed on the gate of the city.’--_H. of G._

The Maiden, which still exists in the Museum of the Society of the Antiquaries of Scotland, is an instrument of the same nature as the guillotine, a loaded knife running in an upright frame, and descending upon a cross-beam, on which the neck of the culprit is laid. It is not unlikely that the ex-Regent introduced the Maiden; but another allegation, which asserts him to have been the first to suffer by it, is untrue.

At the death of Morton, the common people were much occupied in discussing a prophecy that the Bleeding Heart should fall by the Mouth of Arran. Morton, as a Douglas, bore the Bleeding Heart in his coat-armorial. Captain Stuart having been made Earl of Arran between the time of the accusation and the execution, here, said they, is the prediction realised, though what the Mouth of Arran meant it would have puzzled them to tell. It was probably to this unintelligible stanza in the prophecies of Merling that they referred:

In the mouth of Arran an selcouth[122] shall fall, Two bloody harts shall be taken with a false train, And derfly dung down without any dome, Ireland, Orkney, and other lands many, For the death of those two great dule shall make.[123]

Morton may be taken as an example of a class of public men in that rude and turbulent time, who were to all appearance earnest Christians of the reforming and evangelical stamp, and nevertheless allowed themselves a licence in every wickedness, even to treachery and murder, whenever they had a selfish object in view, or, more strangely still, when the interests of religion, in their view of the matter, called on them so to act.

[Sidenote: 1581.]

Nothing is more remarkable in the history of this period than the coincidence of wicked or equivocal actions and pious professions in the same person. Adam Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney, who performed the marriage-ceremony of Mary and Bothwell, and afterwards in the basest manner took active part against her--who was in constant trouble with the General Assembly on account of his shortcomings--writes letters full of expressions of Christian piety and resignation. He is constantly ‘saying with godly Job, gif we have receivit guid out of the hand of the Lord, why should we not alsae receive evil--giving him maist hearty thanks therefore, attesting our godly and stedfast faith in him, whilk is maist evident in time of probane.’ Sir John Bellenden, justice-clerk, who had a share in the murder of Signor David, and who, on receiving a gift of Hamilton of Bothwell-haugh’s estate of Woodhouselee from the Regent Moray, turned Hamilton’s wife out of doors, so as to cause her to run mad--this vile man, in his will, speaks of ‘my saul, wha baith sall meet my Maister with joy and comfort, to hear that comfortable voice that he has promisit to resotat [resuscitate], saying, Come unto me thou as ane of my elect.’[124]

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[Sidenote: JUNE 11.]

An entry in the Lord Treasurer’s books reveals the mood of the gay king and his courtiers, nine days after the bloody end of Morton. It is Sunday, and James is residing with the Duke of Lennox at Dalkeith Castle. He attends the parish church within the town, and, after service, returns, with _two pipers playing before him_.[125]

[Sidenote: 1581.]

It was, however, only four days after the death of Morton, and while his blood was still fresh upon the streets, that the man who had brought him to the block passed through the gay scenes of a marriage. Captain Stuart--for Scottish history can scarcely be induced to recognise him as Earl of Arran--had formed a shameful connection with a lady of high birth and rank now figuring at the Scottish court. Born Elizabeth Stewart, as daughter of the Earl of Athole, she had first been wife of Lord Lovat--then, after his death, wife of the Earl of March, brother of the Regent Lennox. Her intrigue with Captain James, her divorce of the Earl of March on alleged reasons which history would blush to mention, her quick-following marriage to Arran while in a condition which would have given her husband a plea of divorce against herself, and this occurring so close to the time when Arran had shed the blood of his great enemy, form a series of events sufficient to mark the character of the court into which the young king had emerged from the strictness of Presbyterian rule. When the lady brought her husband a son in the subsequent January,[126] the king was invited to the baptism, and we only learn that he was prevented from attending in consequence of a temporary quarrel which had by that time taken place between Lennox and Arran.

A contemporary writer, speaking of the countess, calls her ‘the maistresse of all vice and villany,’ and says she ‘infectit the air in his Hieness’ audience.’ He accuses her of controlling the course of justice, and alleges that she ‘caused sundrie to be hanged that wanted their compositions, saying: What had they been doing all their days, that had not so much as five punds to buy them from the gallows?‘--_Cal._

The Presbyterian clergy regarded the frivolity of Lennox and Mombirneau, their foreign vices and oaths, joined to the coarser native profligacy of Arran and his lady, as forming a bad school for the young king. A love of amusement and buffoonery he certainly contracted from this source; but it is remarkable that he was not drawn into any gross vice by the bad example set before him.

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[Sidenote: NOV.]

At this time, upwards of twenty years after the Reformation, it was still found that ‘the dregs of idolatry’ existed in sundry parts of the realm, ‘by using of pilgrimage to some chapels, wells, crosses ..., as also by observing of the festival-days of the sancts, sometime namit their patrons; in setting furth of banefires, [and] singing of carols within and about kirks at certain seasons of the year.’ An act of parliament was now passed, condemning these practices, and imposing heavy fines on those guilty of them; failing which, the transgressors to endure a month’s imprisonment upon bread and water.

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[Sidenote: 1582.

JUNE.]

The archbishopric of Glasgow being vacant, Mr Robert Montgomery accepted it from the king, on an understanding with the king’s favourite, the Duke of Lennox, as to the income. The church excommunicated him. In Edinburgh, ‘he was openly onbeset [waylaid] by lasses and rascals of the town, and hued out by flinging of stones at him, out at the Kirk of Field port, and narrowly escaped with his life.’--_Moy._

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[Sidenote: SEP. 4.]

One consequence of the _coup d’état_ at Ruthven was the return of John Durie from the banishment into which he had gone in May, to resume his ministry in Edinburgh. The affair makes a fine historic picture.

‘As he is coming from Leith to Edinburgh, there met him at the Gallow Green two hundred men of the inhabitants of Edinburgh. Their number still increased till he came within the Nether Bow. There they began [with bare heads and loud voices] to sing the 124th psalm--“Now Israel may say, and that truly,” &c., in four parts [till heaven and earth resounded]. They came up the street to the Great Kirk, singing thus all the way, to the number of two thousand. They were much moved themselves, and so were the beholders. The Duke [of Lennox, who was lodged in the High Street, and looked out and saw], was astonished and more affrayed at that sight than at anything that ever he had seen before in Scotland, and rave his beard for anger. After exhortation made in the reader’s place by Mr James Lowson, to thankfulness, and the singing of a psalm, they dissolved with great joy.’--_Cal._

[Sidenote: SEP. 5.

1582.

SEP. 28.]

Another consequence of the change at court was, that the Duke of Lennox was forced to leave the kingdom. The Presbyterian historians relate the manner of his departure with evident relish. ‘The duke departed out of the town, after noon, accompanied with the provost, bailies, and five hundred men.... He rode towards Glasgow, accompanied by the Lord Maxwell, the Master of Livingstone, the Master of Eglintoun, Ferniehirst, and sundry other gentlemen.’[127]... He ‘remained in Dunbarton at the West Sea, where, or [ere] he gat passage, he was put to as hard a diet as he caused the Earl of Morton to use there; yea, even to the other extremity that he had used at court; for, whereas his kitchen was sae sumptuous that lumps of butter was cast in the fire when it soked [grew dull], and twa or three crowns waired upon a stock of kale dressing, he was fain to eat of a meagre guse, scoudered with beare strae.’[128] Died in Edinburgh, George Buchanan, at the age of seventy-eight, immediately after concluding his _History of Scotland_. His high literary accomplishments, especially his exquisite Latin composition, have made his name permanently famous. His personal character was not without its shades, yet it stands forth amidst the rough scenes of that time as something, on the whole, venerable. Sir James Melville, in noting that, while acting as one of the king’s preceptors, he kept the young monarch in great awe, goes on to speak of him as ‘a stoic philosopher,’ who did not act in that capacity with any view to his worldly interests. ‘A man of notable endowments for his learning and knowledge in Latin poesy,’ says this mild contemporary, ‘much honoured in other countries, pleasant in conversation, rehearsing at all occasions moralities short and instructive, whereof he had abundance, inventing where he wanted. He was also religious, but was easily abused, and so facile, that he was led by every company that he haunted, which made him factious in his old days, for he spoke and wrote as those who were about him informed him; for he was become careless, following in many things the vulgar opinion; for he was naturally popular, and extremely revengeful against any man who had offended him, which was his greatest fault. For he did write despiteful invectives against the Earl of Monteith, for some particulars that were between him and the Laird of Buchanan. He became the Earl of Morton’s great enemy, for that a nag of his chanced to be taken from his servant during the civil troubles, and was bought by the Regent, who had no will to part with the said horse, he was so sure-footed and so easy, that albeit Mr George had ofttimes required him again, he could not get him. And, therefore, though he had been the Regent’s great friend before, he became his mortal enemy, and from that time forth spoke evil of him in all places, and at all occasions.’

[Sidenote: 1582.]

A little while before Buchanan’s death, while his history was passing through the press of Alexander Arbuthnot in Edinburgh, the Rev. James Melville, accompanied by his uncle Andrew, came from St Andrews ‘anes-errand’--that is, on set purpose--to see him and his work. ‘When we came to his chalmer,’ says Melville, ‘we fand him sitting in his chair, teaching his young man that servit in his chalmer, to spell, a, b, ab; e, b, eb; &c. After salutation, Mr Andrew says: “I see, sir, ye are not idle.” “Better this,” quoth he, “nor stealing sheep, or sitting idle, whilk is as ill.” Thereafter he shew[ed] us the Epistle Dedicatory to the King; the whilk when Mr Andrew had read he tauld him it was obscure in some places, and wanted certain words to perfite the sentence. Says he: “I may do nae mair for thinking on another matter.” “What is that?” says Mr Andrew. “To die,” quoth he; “but I leave that and mony mae things for you to help.”

‘We went from him to the printer’s wark-house, whom we fand at the end of the 17 buik of his chronicle, at a place whilk we thought very hard for the time, whilk might be an occasion of staying the haill wark, anent the burial of Davie.[129] Thereafter, staying the printer from proceeding, we came to Mr George again, and fand him bedfast by [contrary to] his custom; and asking him how he did--“Even going the way of weelfare,” says he. Mr Thomas, his cousin, shews him the hardness of that part of his story, [and] that the king might be offended with it, and it might stay all the wark. “Tell me, man,” says he, “gif I have tauld the truth?” “Yes,” says Mr Thomas, “sir, I think sae.” “I will bide his feid, and all his kin’s then,” quoth he: “pray, pray to God for me, and let Him direct all.”’

The sternness of Scottish prejudices here reaches the heroic.

With its eight centuries of fable in the front, and its glaring partisanship in the latter part, we cannot now attach much importance to Buchanan’s history. Yet in respect of its literary character, it contains some truly felicitous touches, as where he describes the surface of Galloway in four words--‘_in modicos colles tumet_;’ or the remarkable sea-board of Fife in two--‘_oppidulis præcingitur_.’ Expressions like these shew the master of literary art.

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[Sidenote: DEC. 10.]

The king’s new councillors of course felt that hard measure had been dealt to the ex-Regent. At this date, ‘the Earl of Morton’s head was taken down off the prick which is upon the high gavell of the Tolbooth, with the king’s licence, at the eleventh hour of the day; was laid in a fine cloth, convoyed honourably, and laid in the kist where his body was buried. The Laird of Carmichael carried it, shedding tears abundantly by the way.’--_Cal._

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[Sidenote: 1582-3.

JAN. 23.

FEB. 4.]

While the king was in the hands of the Ruthven conspirators, two gentlemen came as ambassadors from France to see what could be done for him, and were of course treated with little civility by the royal councillors. The second, M. de Menainville, must have been the less acceptable to them, if it was true which was alleged, that he had been one of the chief devisers of the league in Picardy against the Protestants. With some difficulty, De Menainville made his way into the royal presence at Holyroodhouse. ‘After some words spoken to the king, he craved that he might be used as an ambassador; that, as he had the use of meat and drink for his body, so he might have food for his soul, meaning the mass, otherwise he would not stay to suffer his most Christian prince’s authority and ambassage to be violated. The king rounded [whispered] and prayed him to be sober in that point, and all would be weel.’ It was not likely that the concession which had been sternly refused to Queen Mary would, at such a time, be granted to him. The king, with much ado, prevailed upon the magistracy of Edinburgh to give the other ambassador, the Sieur de la Motte Fenelon, a banquet on the eve of his departure. The kirk-session opposed the entertainment; and when they found they could not prevent it, they did the next best--held a solemn fast, with preachings and psalm-singing, during the whole time of the feast--namely, from betwixt nine and ten in the morning till two in the afternoon. The ministers called the banquet a holding fellowship with ‘the murderers of the sancts of God.’--_Cal._

[Sidenote: 1583.

MAR. 28.]

De Menainville remained for some time after. ‘Upon Thursday the 28th of March, commonly called Skyre Thursday, [he] called into his lodging thirteen poor men, and washed their feet according to the popish manner, whereat the people was greatly offended.’--_Cal._

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[Sidenote: AUG. 23.

1583.]

All previous efforts at the finding of metals in the country having failed, a contract was now entered into between the king and one Eustachius Roche, described as a Fleming and mediciner, whereby the latter was to be allowed to break ground anywhere in search of those natural treasures, and to use timber from any of the royal forests in furthering of the work, without molestation from any one, during twenty-one years, on the sole condition that he should deliver for his majesty’s use, for every hundred ounces of gold found, seven ounces; and for the like weight of all other metals--as silver, copper, tin, or lead--ten ounces for every hundred found, and sell the remainder of the gold for the use of the state at £22 per ounce of utter fine gold, and of the silver at 50s. the ounce.--_P. C. R._

We light upon Eustachius again on the 3d of December 1585, and he is then in no pleasant plight with his mines. Assisted by a number of Englishmen, he had done his best to fulfil his share of the contract, but ‘as yet he has made little or nae profit of his travel, partly by reason of the trouble of this contagious sickness, but specially in the default of his partners and John Scolloce their factor,’ who would not fulfil either their duty to his majesty or their engagements to himself. Through these causes, ‘the haill wark has been greatly hinderit.’ He had Scolloce warded in Edinburgh; but he, ‘by his majesty’s special command, is latten to liberty, without ony trial taken.’ At the same time, the king’s treasurer ‘has causit arreist the leid ore whilk the complener has presently in Leith, and whilk was won in the mines of Glengoner Water and Winlock.’ This was the greater hardship, as it was the part he had to set aside for the Earl of Arran, in virtue of a contract for the protection of his lordship’s rights to certain lead-mines. The Lords were merciful to the poor adventurer, and ordered the arrestment to be discharged.--_P. C. R._

He rises once more before us in a new capacity under September 4, 1588.

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[Sidenote: 1583-4.

SEP. 10.

JAN. 9.]

The king having now escaped from his Ruthven councillors and fallen once more under the influence of the Earl of Arran, Sir Francis Walsingham came as Elizabeth’s ambassador to express her concern about these movements, and see what could be done towards opposite effects. Coming to a king with an unwelcome message has never been a pleasant duty; but it must have been particularly disagreeable on this occasion, if it be true, as is alleged by a Presbyterian historian, that Arran--who, says he, within a few days after his return to court, ‘began to look braid’--hounded out a low woman, called _Kate the witch_, to assail the ambassador with vile speeches as he passed to and from the king’s presence. She was, it is alleged, hired by Arran ‘for a new plaid and six pounds in money, not only to rail against the ministry [clergy], his majesty’s most assured and ancient nobility, and lovers of the amity [English alliance], but also set in the entry of the king’s palace, to revile her majesty’s ambassador at Edinburgh, St Andrews, Falkland, Perth, and everywhere, to the great grief of all good men, and dishonour of the king and country.’ It is further stated, that, being imprisoned ‘for a fashion,’ large allowance was made for her entertainment, and she was relieved as soon as Walsingham had departed.--_Cal._

While the kirk was beginning to feel the consequences of the king’s emancipation from the Ruthven lords, it sustained an assault, though of a very petty character, from a different quarter. Robert Brown, a Cambridge student, had three years before attracted attention in Norfolk by his novel and startling ideas regarding ecclesiastical matters. The Bishop of Norwich imprisoned him, with the usual non-success as far as the correction of opinion was concerned. He had then taken refuge at Middleburgh, and there given forth his notions to the world in the form of a pamphlet. Now he was come to Scotland, perhaps thinking it a pity that a people should be in trouble between the contending claims of Prelacy and Presbytery, when he could shew them that both systems were wrong. Landing at Dundee, where, it is said, he received some encouragement, he advanced by St Andrews to Edinburgh, and there took up his quarters ‘in the head of the Canongate,’ along with four or five English followers, who were accompanied by their wives and children. The people--who, for the most part, were passionately attached to the simple fabric of their national church, and dreamt of no rivalship or enmity to it except in episcopacy--how they must have felt at the novel sight of a group of men who, in declaring against bishops, also found fault with sessions and synods, with indeed all ecclesiastical action whatever, considering each congregation independent in itself, and no member of it less entitled to pray and preach than the pastor!

[Sidenote: 1583-4.]