targetting of their tails,[210] and against the rest of the vanity
of those foolish women. This they affirmed should provoke God's
vengeance, not only against them, but against the whole realm;
and especially against those that maintained them in that odious
abusing of things that might have been better bestowed. Articles
were presented, proposing to Parliament that order be taken in
regard to apparel, and for reformation of other enormities; but all
was scripped at. The Earldom of Moray needed confirmation, and many
things that concerned the help of friends and servants were to be
ratified, and therefore they might not urge the Queen. If they did
so, she would hold no Parliament; and what then should become of
them that had melled[211] with the slaughter of the Earl of Huntly?
Let that Parliament pass over, and when the Queen asked anything
of the Nobility, as she must do before her marriage, then should
the religion be the first thing that should be established. It was
answered that the poets and painters had not altogether erred when
they feigned and painted Occasion with a head bald behind: for when
the first chance is offered and lost, it is hard to recover it again.
[210] Bordering of gowns with tassels.
[211] Meddled.
[Sidenote: John Knox breaks with the Earl of Moray.]
The matter became so hot betwixt the Earl of Moray and some others
of the Court, and John Knox, that after that time they spake not
together familiarly for more than a year and a half. The said
John, by letter, gave a discharge to the said Earl of all further
intromission or care with his affairs. He made discourse of their
first acquaintance; in what estate he was when first they spake
together in London; how God had promoted him, even beyond man's
judgment; and in the end he made this conclusion: "But seeing that
I perceive myself frustrated of my expectation that ye should have
ever preferred God to your own affection, and the advancement of
His truth to your singular commodity, I commit you to your own wit,
and to the guidance of those who better can please you. I praise my
God, I this day leave you victor of your enemies, promoted to great
honours, and in credit and authority with your Sovereign. If ye long
continue so, none within the realm shall be more glad than I shall
be; but if after this day ye shall decay, as I fear that ye shall,
then call to mind by what means God exalted you; that was neither by
bearing with impiety, nor by maintaining pestilent Papists."
This bill[212] and discharge so pleased the flatterers of the Earl,
that they triumphed, and were glad to have gotten their occasion;
for some envied the great familiarity that had been betwixt the
said Earl and John Knox. Therefore, from the time that they once
got that occasion to separate them, they ceased not to cast oil in
the burning flame, and this ceased not to burn, until God, by water
of affliction, began to slocken it. Lest they should seem to have
altogether forsaken God (in very deed both God and His Word were far
from the hearts of the most part of the courtiers in that age, a
few excepted), they began a new shift. They spoke of the punishment
of adultery, and of witchcraft, and to seek the restitution of the
glebes and manses to the ministers of the Kirk, and the reparation
of churches: thereby they thought to have pleased the godly that
were highly offended at their slackness.
[212] Letter.
[Sidenote: Inept Legislation.]
The Act of Oblivion was passed, because some of the Lords had
interest; but the Acts against adultery, and for the manses and
glebes, were so modified, that no law and such law might stand _in
eodem predicamento_. To speak plainly, no law and such Acts were
both alike. The Acts are in print: let wise men read, and then
accuse us, if we complain without cause.
[Sidenote: John Knox preaches a faithful Sermon to the Lords.]
In the progress of this corruption, and before the Parliament
dissolved, John Knox, in his sermon before the most part of the
Nobility, entered on a deep discourse concerning God's mercies to
the realm, and the ingratitude which he espied in almost the whole
multitude, albeit God had marvellously delivered them from the
bondage and tyranny both of body and soul. "And now, my Lords,"
said he, "I praise my God, through Jesus Christ, that, in your own
presence, I may pour forth the sorrows of my heart; yea, yourselves
shall be witness if I shall make any lie in things that are by-past.
From the beginning of God's mighty working within this realm, I
have been with you in your most desperate temptations. Ask your own
consciences, and let them answer you before God, if I--not I, but
God's Spirit by me--in your greatest extremity did not urge you
ever to depend upon your God, and in His name promised you victory
and preservation from your enemies, if ye would only depend upon
His protection, and prefer His glory to your own lives and worldly
commodity.
"I have been with you in your most extreme dangers. Perth, Cupar
Moor, and the Crags of Edinburgh are yet recent in my heart. Yea,
that dark and dolorous night, wherein ye all, my Lords, with shame
and fear left this town, is yet in my mind; God forbid that I ever
forget it. Ye yourselves yet live to testify what was my exhortation
to you, and what is fallen in vain of all that ever God promised to
you by my mouth. Not one of you, against whom death and destruction
were threatened, perished in that danger. How many of your enemies
has God plagued before your eyes! Shall this be the thankfulness
that ye shall render unto your God, to betray His cause, when ye
have it in your own hands to establish it as ye please? The Queen,
say ye, will not agree with us. Ask of her that which by God's Word
ye may justly require, and if she will not agree with you in God,
ye are not bound to agree with her in the Devil. Let her plainly
understand your minds, and steal not from your former stoutness in
God, and He shall yet prosper you in your enterprises.
"But I can see nothing but a recoiling from Christ Jesus: the man
that first and most speedily fleeth from Christ's ensign holdeth
himself most happy. Yea, I hear that some say that we have nothing
of our religion established, by Law or by Parliament. Albeit the
malicious words of such can neither hurt the truth of God, nor yet
those of us that thereupon depend, the speaker, for his treason,
committed against God and against this poor commonwealth, deserves
the gallows. Our religion, being commanded and established by God,
has been accepted within this realm in public Parliament; if they
say that was no Parliament, we must and will say, and also prove,
that that Parliament was as lawful as ever any that passed before it
within this realm. Yea, if the King then living was King, and the
Queen now in this realm be lawful Queen, that Parliament cannot be
denied.
"And now, my Lords, to put an end to all, I hear of the Queen's
marriage. Dukes, brethren to emperors, and kings strive all for the
best game; but this will I say, my Lords--note the day and bear
witness afterwards--whensoever the Nobility of Scotland, professing
the Lord Jesus, consent that an infidel (and all Papists are
infidels) shall be head to your Sovereign, so far as in ye lieth,
ye do banish Christ Jesus from this realm; ye bring God's vengeance
upon the country, a plague upon yourselves, and perchance small
comfort to your Sovereign."
[Sidenote: Papists and Protestants take Offence: John Knox is
summoned by the Queen.]
These words and this manner of speaking were judged intolerable.
Papists and Protestants were both offended; yea, the most familiar
friends of Knox disdained him for that utterance. Placeboes and
flatterers posted to the Court to give information that he had
spoken against the Queen's marriage, and the Provost of Lincluden,
Douglas of Drumlanrig by surname, brought the charge that the said
John Knox should present himself before the Queen. This he did soon
after dinner. The Lord Ochiltree, and divers of the faithful, bare
him company to the Abbey; but none passed in to the Queen with him
in the cabinet but John Erskine of Dun, then Superintendent of Angus
and Mearns. The Queen, in a vehement fume, began to cry out that
never prince was handled as she was.
_Queen._ I have borne with you in all your rigorous manner of
speaking, both against myself and against my uncles; yea, I have
sought your favours by all possible means. I offered unto you
presence and audience whensoever it pleased you to admonish me; and
yet I cannot be quit of you. I avow to God, I shall be once revenged.
At these words, scarcely could Marna, her secret chamber boy, get
napkins[213] to hold her eyes dry for the tears; and howling,
besides womanly weeping, stayed her speech. The said John did
patiently abide all the first fume, and at opportunity answered.
[213] Pocket-handkerchiefs.
_Knox._ True it is, Madam, your Grace and I have been at divers
controversies, in which I never perceived your Grace to be offended
at me. But, when it shall please God to deliver you from that
bondage of darkness and error in which ye have been nourished for
the lack of true doctrine, your Majesty will find in the liberty of
my tongue nothing offensive. Outside the preaching place, Madam, I
think few have occasion to be offended at me; and there, Madam, I
am not master of myself, but must obey Him who commands me to speak
plain, and to flatter no flesh upon the face of the earth.
_Queen._ But what have ye to do with my marriage?
_Knox._ If it please your Majesty to hear me patiently, I shall
show the truth in plain words. I grant your Grace offered me more
than ever I required; but my answer was then, as it is now, that
God hath not sent me to wait upon the courts of princesses, or upon
the chambers of ladies. I am sent to preach the Evangel of Jesus
Christ to such as please to hear it. It hath two parts, repentance
and faith. And now, Madam, in preaching repentance, it is necessary
that the sins of men be so noted that they may know wherein they
offend; but the most part of your Nobility are so addicted to your
affections, that neither God, His Word, nor yet their commonwealth
are rightly regarded. Therefore it becomes me so to speak, that they
may know their duty.
_Queen._ What have ye to do with my marriage? Or what are ye within
this commonwealth?
_Knox._ A subject born within the same, Madam. And, albeit I
be neither Earl, Lord, nor Baron within it, God has made me a
profitable member within the same, however abject I be in your eyes.
Yea, Madam, it appertains to me to forewarn of such things as may
hurt that commonwealth, if I foresee them, no less than it does to
any of the Nobility. Both my vocation and conscience crave plainness
of me. Therefore, Madam, to yourself I say that which I speak in
public place. Whensoever the Nobility of this realm shall consent
that ye be subject to an unfaithful husband, they do as much as in
them lieth to renounce Christ, to banish His truth from them, to
betray the freedom of this realm, and perchance they shall in the
end do small comfort to yourself.
At these words, howling was heard, and tears might have been seen
in greater abundance than the matter required. John Erskine of Dun,
a man of meek and gentle spirit, stood beside, and entreated what
he could do to mitigate her anger, giving her many pleasing words
of her beauty, of her excellence, and saying that all the princes
of Europe would be glad to seek her favours. But all this was to
cast oil in the flaming fire. The said John stood still, without any
alteration of countenance for a long season, while the Queen gave
place to her inordinate passion.
In the end he said, "Madam, I speak in God's presence. I never
delighted in the weeping of any of God's creatures; yea, I can
scarcely well abide the tears of my own boys whom my own hand
corrects, much less can I rejoice in your Majesty's weeping. Seeing,
however, that I have offered you no just occasion to be offended,
but have spoken the truth as my vocation craves of me, I must
sustain your Majesty's tears, albeit unwillingly, rather than dare
hurt my conscience, or betray my commonwealth through my silence."
Herewith was the Queen more offended, and commanded the said John
to leave the cabinet, and to abide her pleasure in the chamber.
The Laird of Dun tarried, and Lord John of Coldingham came into
the cabinet, and there they both remained with her for nearly an
hour. The said John stood in the chamber, as one whom men had never
seen, so afraid were all, except that the Lord Ochiltree bare him
company. Therefore began he to forge talk with the ladies who were
sitting there in all their gorgeous apparel. This espied, he merrily
said, "O fair Ladies, how pleasing were this life of yours if it
should ever abide, and in the end we might pass to heaven with all
this gay gear. Fie upon that knave Death, who will come whether we
will or not! When he has laid on his arrest, the foul worms will be
busy with this flesh, be it never so fair and so tender; and the
silly soul shall, I fear, be so feeble that it can neither carry
with it gold, garnishing, targetting, pearl, nor precious stones."
By such means procured he the company of women; and so passed the
time until the Laird of Dun desired him to depart to his house. The
Queen would have sought the censement of the Lords of Articles as to
whether such manner of speaking as that of the said John deserved
not punishment; but she was counselled to desist: and so that storm
quieted in appearance, but never in the heart.
[Sidenote: Lethington's Return: His worldly Wisdom displayed.]
Shortly after the Parliament, Lethington returned from his
negotiation in England and France. In the February before, God had
stricken that bloody tyrant the Duke of Guise, and this somewhat
broke the fard[214] of our Queen for a season. But, shortly after
the return of Lethington, pride and malice began to show themselves
again. She set at liberty the Archbishop of St. Andrews, and the
rest of the Papists, formerly put in prison for violating the laws.
Lethington showed himself not a little offended that any bruit
of the Queen's marriage with the son of the King of Spain should
have risen; for he took upon him that such a thing never entered
into her heart. How true that was, we shall afterwards hear. The
object of all his acquaintance and complaint was to discredit John
Knox, who had affirmed that such a marriage was both proponed and
accepted by the Cardinal upon the part of our Queen. In his absence,
Lethington had run into a very evil bruit among the Nobility for
too much serving the Queen's affections against the commonwealth;
and therefore, as one that lacketh no worldly wisdom, he had made
provision both in England and in Scotland. In England he had
travailed for the freedom of the Earl Bothwell, and by that means
obtained promise of his favour. He had there also made arrangements
for the home-coming of the Earl of Lennox. In Scotland, he joined
with the Earl of Atholl: him he promoted and set forward in Court,
and so the Earl of Moray began to be defaced. And yet Lethington at
all times showed a fair countenance to the said Earl.
[214] Ardour; violence.
[Sidenote: The Queen retains Observance of the Mass.]
The Queen spent the rest of that summer in her progress throughout
the West country, where in all towns and gentlemen's places she
had her Mass. This coming to the ears of John Knox, he began that
form of prayer which ordinarily he sayeth after thanksgiving at his
table: "1. Deliver us, O Lord, from the bondage of idolatry. 2.
Preserve and keep us from the tyranny of strangers. 3. Continue us
in quietness and concord amongst ourselves, if Thy good pleasure
be, O Lord, for a season," etc. Divers of the familiars of the said
John asked him why he prayed for quietness to continue for a season,
and not rather absolutely that we should continue in quietness. His
answer was that he durst not pray but in faith; and faith in God's
Word assured him that constant quietness could not continue in that
realm where idolatry had been suppressed, and then been permitted to
be erected again.
From the West country, the Queen passed to Argyll to the hunting,
and afterwards returned to Stirling. The Earl of Moray, the Lord
Robert of Holyroodhouse, and Lord John of Coldingham, passed to the
Northland. Justice Courts were holden; thieves and murderers were
punished; two witches were burned, the elder so blinded with the
Devil that she affirmed that no judge had power over her.
[Sidenote: The Death of Lord John of Coldingham.]
At that same time, Lord John of Coldingham departed this life in
Inverness. It was affirmed that he commanded such as were beside
him to say to the Queen that, unless she left off her idolatry, God
would not fail to plague her. He asked God's mercy that he had so
far borne with her in her impiety, and had maintained her in the
same. No one thing did he more regret than that he had flattered,
fostered, and maintained her in her wickedness against God and
His servants. And in very deed he had great cause to lament his
wickedness; for, besides all his other infirmities, he, in the end,
for the Queen's pleasure, became enemy to virtue and virtuous men,
and a patron to impiety to the uttermost of his power. Yea, his
venom was so kindled against God and his Word, that in his rage he
burst forth with these words: "Before I see the Queen's Majesty so
troubled with the railing of these knaves, I shall have the best of
them sticked in the pulpit."
What further villainy came forth from the stinking throats and
mouths of both, modesty will not suffer us to write. If Lord John
had grace to repent unfeignedly thereof, it is no small document to
God's mercies. Howsoever God wrought with him, the Queen regarded
his words as wind, or else thought them to have been forged by
others, and not to have proceeded from himself. She affirmed plainly
that they were devised by the Laird of Pittarrow and Mr. John
Wood, both of whom she hated, because they did not flatter her in
her dancing and other doings. One thing in plain words she spake,
"God always took from her those persons in whom she had greatest
pleasure:" that she repented; but of further wickedness there was no
mention.
[Sidenote: Mass-mongers at Holyrood take Fright.]
While the Queen lay at Stirling, with her idolatry in her chapel,
certain dontibours and others of the French menyie were left in the
Palace of Holyroodhouse. These raised up their Mass more publicly
than they had done at any time before. Upon those same Sundays that
the Church of Edinburgh had the ministration of the Lord's Table,
the Papists, in great numbers, resorted to the Abbey, to their
abomination. This understood, divers of the brethren, being sorely
offended, consulted as to redress of that enormity. Certain of the
most zealous and most upright in the religion, were appointed to
watch the Abbey, and note the persons who resorted to the Mass.
Perceiving a great number to enter the chapel, some of the brethren
did also burst in. Thereat the priest and the French dames, being
afraid, made the shout to be sent to the town; while Madame Raulet,
mistress of the Queen's dontibours (for maids that court could not
then bear) posted on with all diligence to the Comptroller, the
Laird of Pittarrow, who was then in St. Giles's Kirk at the sermon,
and cried for his assistance, to save her life and to save the
Queen's Palace. He, with greater haste than need required, obeyed
her desire, and took with him the Provost, the Bailies, and a great
part of the faithful. But when they came to the place where the fear
was bruited to have been, they found all things quiet, except the
tumult they brought with themselves, and peaceable men looking to
the Papists, and forbidding them to transgress the laws.
[Sidenote: The Papists devise Mischief.]
True it is that a zealous brother, named Patrick Cranston, passed
into the chapel, and finding the altar covered, and the priest ready
to go to that abomination, the Mass, said, "The Queen's Majesty
is not here; how darest thou then be so malapert, as openly to do
against the law?" No further was done or said, and yet the bruit
was posted to the Queen, with such information as the Papists could
give; and this found as much credit as their hearts could have
wished for. Here was so heinous a crime in her eyes, that there was
no satisfaction for that sin, without blood. Without delay, Andrew
Armstrong and Patrick Cranston were summoned to find surety to
underlie the law, for "forethought, felony, hamesucken,[215] violent
invasion of the Queens Palace, and for spoliation of the same."
[215] The crime of beating or assaulting a person within his own
house.
When those summonses were divulged, the extremity was feared, and
the few brethren that were in town consulted as to the next remedy.
In the end, it was concluded that John Knox (to whom the charge had
been given to spread intelligence whenever danger should appear)
should write to the brethren in all quarters, giving information as
to how the matter stood, and requiring their assistance. This he did
in tenor as here follows--
[Sidenote: John Knox's Letter to the Brethren: 8th October 1563.]
"'Wheresoever two or three are gathered together in My name, there
am I in the midst of them.'
"It is not unknown unto you, dear brethren, what comfort and
tranquillity God gave to us, in most dangerous times, by our
Christian assemblies, and godly conferences, as oft as any danger
appeared to any member or members of our body: and that, since we
have neglected, or at least not frequented our conventions and
assemblies, the adversaries of the holy Evangel of Christ Jesus
have enterprised, and boldened themselves, publicly and secretly,
to do many things odious in God's presence, and most hurtful to
the liberty of true religion, now granted unto us by God's great
favour. The holy Sacraments are abused by profane Papists. Masses
have been, and yet are, openly said and maintained. The blood
of some of our dearest ministers has been shed, without fear of
punishment or correction being craved by us.
"And now, are two of our dear brethren, Patrick Cranston and Andrew
Armstrong, summoned to underlie the law, in the town of Edinburgh,
the 24th of this instant October, 'for forethought, felony,
pretended murder, and for invading the Queen's Majesty's Palace
of Holyroodhouse, with unlawful convocation,' etc. This terrible
summons is directed against our brethren, because they, with two or
three more, passed to the Abbey upon Sunday, the 15th of August,
to behold and note what persons repaired to the Mass. They did
so, because on the Sunday before (the Queen's Grace being absent)
there resorted to that idol a rascal multitude, the Papists having
openly the least devilish ceremony,[216] yea, even the conjuring of
their accursed water, that ever they had in the time of greatest
blindness. Because, I say, our said brethren went, in most quiet
manner, to note such abusers, these fearful summonses are directed
against them; no doubt, to make preparation upon a few, that a door
may be opened to execute cruelty upon a greater multitude. If it
so come to pass, God, no doubt, has justly recompensed our former
negligence and ingratitude towards Him and His benefits received in
our own bosoms.
[216] The papistical ceremony, down to its minutest details (?).
"God gave to us a most notable victory over His and our enemies: He
brake their strength, and confounded their counsels: He set us at
freedom, and purged this realm, for the most part, of open idolatry;
to the end that we, ever mindful of so wondrous a deliverance,
should have kept this realm clean from such vile filthiness, and
damnable idolatry. But we, alas! preferring the pleasure of flesh
and blood to the pleasure and commandment of our God, have suffered
that idol, the Mass, to be erected again; and therefore justly
does He now suffer us to fall into such danger that to look at an
idolater going to his idolatry shall be reputed a crime little
inferior to treason. God grant that we fall not further.
"God has, of His mercy, made me one amongst many to travail in
setting forward His true religion within this realm, and I, seeing
the same in danger of ruin, cannot but of conscience crave of you,
my brethren, of all Estates, that have professed the truth, your
presence, comfort, and assistance, on the said day, in the town of
Edinburgh, even as ye tender the advancement of God's glory, the
safety of your brethren, and your own assurance, together with the
preservation of the Kirk in these apparent dangers.