(MARCH TO MAY 1546.)
THE death of Wishart excited in Scotland feelings of very diverse CHARACTER. The bishops and their adherents extolled to the skies the cardinal who, without troubling himself about the regent’s authority, and suppressing the insolence of the people, had constituted himself the defender of Rome and of the priesthood. ‘Ah,’ said they, ‘if the Church had formerly had such champions, she would keep all things under her dominion by the very force and weight of her majesty.’
Simple-hearted Christians lamented the martyrdom without a thought of revenge. But one part of the people, and with them several of the most eminent men, condemned aloud at table and everywhere the cardinal’s cruelty, and declared that the blood which had been shed called for vengeance. Even those who, without sharing Wishart’s views, were actuated by just and generous sentiments, asked themselves what hope they could have of preserving their liberties under the most cruel of tyrants; under a prelate who made war alike on men and on God; who pursued with his enmity every one that possessed wealth or was animated by piety, and sacrificed them to his caprice like beasts taken from the stall;
f353 who gave his sanction to connexions worthless mistresses, and dissolved lawful marriages, at his pleasure; who in his own house
wallowed in debauchery with prostitutes, and out of doors, in his wrath, revelled in the slaughter of innocent men and in the blood of heretics. f354 Such is the portrait of Beatoun drawn by Buchanan.
The cardinal, who could not remain ignorant of these speeches, was desirous of strengthening his power by means of new alliances. He therefore gave one of his daughters, Margaret Beatoun — whose mother was Mary, daughter of Sir James Ogilvy — in marriage to David Lindsay,
son of the earl of Crawford, with a portion of four thousand marks. The nuptials were celebrated with a magnificence almost royal. That a priest could celebrate with so much parade the nuptials of his daughter showed that he was destitute even of that honorable shame which is excited by the dread of anything that violates decency. He believed himself to be stronger than all Scotland, and by his despotic measures he was constantly adding to the number of his enemies.
Among those who had served him with the most devotion was Norman Lesley, brother of the earl of Rothes. On occasion of Lesley’s reminding the cardinal of certain promises which he had made to him, they got to high words and parted bitter foes. f355 Thenceforth Lesley was head of the disaffected, and by setting before his friends the intolerable pride of the cardinal he induced them to join in a conspiracy against his life. f356 His uncle, John Lesley, did not shrink from saying before them all, clapping his right hand at the same time on his sword, ‘This hand shall draw this old sword, and they two shall be the cardinal’s confessors,’ meaning thereby that they should dismiss him into the other world. The saying was reported to Beatoun, but he made light of it, fancying himself perfectly safe in the blockhouse — a kind of fortress — which he had built. ‘I laugh at all that noise,’ said he, ‘and I would not give a button for such bragging.
Is not my lord governor mine? Witness his eldest son their pledge at my table. Have I not the queen at my own devotion? Is not France my friend, and am not I friend to France? What danger should I fear?’ Nevertheless Beatoun, for the purpose of cutting off those who troubled him, ordered all his creatures, gentlemen of Fifeshire, to meet him at Falkland on
Monday, May 31. The Lesleys and a certain number of their friends were to be taken prisoners and put to death. On the other side, Lesley and his accomplices had no embarrassing scruples at all. The right of the strongest was still frequently appealed to in that half barbarian age. A coup d’etat, with deeds of violence, was a quite familiar occurrence. These nobles looked on Wishart’s death, without the concurrence of the civil judges, which the lawful government had refused, as a murder; and they
considered that as Beatoun was a murderer he ought to be himself put to death. They did not reflect that they were making themselves guilty of the very crime which Beatoun had committed, that of putting themselves in the place of the regular judges. The right of war between feudal lords,
which had not yet ceased to be recognised, sufficed to justify them in their own eyes. It was arranged that Norman Lesley, with his brother and four of his friends, should go to St. Andrews, where the cardinal was residing, and that they should take up their lodging in the hostelry at which they were accustomed to stay, so as not to awaken any suspicion. They entered the town accordingly, and without fear, although the place swarmed with the friends, dependents, and creatures of the mighty primate. Some of the inhabitants who shared their views held themselves in readiness at the first signal to give them assistance. They agreed to seize the castle at early morning, before the household were up.
On Friday, May 28, in the evening, Norman Lesley arrived at St.
Andrews, where he found William Kirkaldy of Grange awaiting him. John Lesley, on whom the cardinal’s suspicions chiefly fell, came last. The conspirators took counsel in the night, and on Saturday, May 29, at three o’clock in the morning, started on their enterprise, the capture of a strong castle which was held by more than a hundred men prepared for
resistance. They came by various ways, and met in the churchyard of the abbey, not far from the castle. Beatoun, well knowing the feelings of indignation which his proceedings had roused in the country, even amongst his own flatterers, had determined to turn his place of abode into a citadel fit to stand a siege. f357 The works were in progress, and this circumstance facilitated the daring attempt now to be made by his enemies. The primate pressed the work on so urgently that it hardly ceased by day or by night.
Consequently the gates open early in the morning, and the drawbridge let down for the workmen to bring in stone, mortar, and other necessary building materials. The Lesleys, who with some of their companions were concealed in a small house near the gates, had sent thence William Kirkaldy and six others. These having passed the gate hailed the porter, and said to him, ‘Is my lord cardinal waking?’ ‘No,’ replied he. Mary Ogilvy, the mother of Margaret and of two sons, David and Alexander Beatoun, had spent the night at the castle. She was seen going away early in the morning by the private postern. f358 The cardinal, at the moment of the arrival of the Lesleys and their friends, was in a sound sleep. While William Kirkaldy was talking to the porter, and the latter was about to show him the way, Norman and John Lesley came up one after the other with arms.
The porter, in alarm, would have put himself on the defensive; but one of
the conspirators broke his head, got possession of his keys, and threw his body into the fosse. At that moment the workmen, numbering more than a hundred, fled through the wicket-gate at full speed, and William Kirkaldy took possession of the private postern, ‘fearing that the fox should have escaped.’ As the assailants were only sixteen, they felt the need of proceeding with great caution. The leaders sent four of their company, among whom were Peter Carmichael, a tall, stout-hearted gentleman, and James Melville of Cumbec, to guard the cardinal’s door and see that no one gave him warning of his danger. Others of the company, who had some acquaintance with the place and the people, were set to watch the bedrooms of the officers and servants of the cardinal. Distributing themselves in small groups, they entered the rooms successively, found the occupants half asleep, and said to. them, ‘If you utter the faintest cry you are dead men!’ f359 Those men therefore, in their fright, dressed
themselves hastily and were led out of the castle, no violence being done to any of them and no noise made. The only person whom they left in the castle was the regent’s eldest son. John Lesley, alone in this vast abode, knocked loudly at the cardinal’s door. ‘What means that noise?’ said he.
‘That Norman Leslie has taken thecastle,’ was the reply; ‘open.’ At these words Beatoun ran towards the postern, but seeing that it was guarded, he returned straightway into his room, seized his two-handed sword, and bade his valet barricade the door. ‘Open,’ they cried again. The cardinal answered, ‘Who calls ?’ — ‘My name is Lesley.’ — ‘Is that Norman ?’
‘Nay, my name is John.’ The cardinal, remembering John’s words, cried,’I will have Norman, for he is my friend.’ — ‘Content yourself with such as are here, for other shall ye get none,’ replied John. While the knocks at the door grew louder, the cardinal seized a box of gold and hid it in a corner.
Then he said, ‘Will ye save my life?’ — ‘It may be that we will,’ said John. — ‘Nay,’ replied Beatoun, ‘swear unto me by God’s wounds, and I shall open to you.’
Then John Lesley cried out, ‘Fire! fire!’ The door was too strong to burst open, and they brought a grate full of burning coals. Just as it was ready the cardinal ordered the door to be opened. Lesley and his companions rushed into the chamber and found Beatoun seated on a chair. Lesley threw himself violently upon him. ‘I am a priest! I am a priest!’ exclaimed the cardinal. ‘Ye will not slay me!’
But Lesley struck him with his sword, and Carmichael, full of wrath, did the same. Melville, a man of gentle and serious character, says Knox, f360 seeing his comrades in so great a rage, checked them. He said, ‘This work and judgment of God, although it be secret, yet ought to be done with greater gravity.’ Melville and others, by reason of the ignorance and the prejudices of the age, sincerely believed in the legal virtue of the Mosaic system, abolished by the Gospel, which conferred on certain persons the right of killing a murderer, but which founded at the same time the cities of refuge in which the guilty man should be safe from the vengeance of the pursuer. f361
Melville forgot that there was no city of refuge for Beatoun. Regarding him as a murderer, and not supposing that by killing him he did himself incur the guilt of murder, he presented to him the point of his sword, and said gravely to him, ‘Repent thee of thine former wicked life, but especially of the shedding of the blood of that notable instrument of God, Mr. George Wishart; which albeit the flame of fire consumed before men, yet cries it a vengeance upon thee, and we from God are sent to revenge it. Here before my God I protest that neither the hatred of thy person, the love of thy riches, or the fear of any trouble thou couldst have done to me in particular, moved or moveth me to strike thee.’ And he struck him with his sword.
The cardinal fell under repeated blows, without a word heard out of his mouth except these, ‘I am a priest! I am a priest! Fie, fie! All is gone!’ f362 It was very soon known all over the city that the castle had been taken.
The friends and the creatures of the cardinal rose very quietly from their beds, says Buchanan, armed themselves, and presently appeared in a crowd about the fosse. They shouted with all their might, uttered threats and insults, and demanded shells and all the necessary means for making the assault. ‘You are making much noise to little purpose,’ said those in the castle to them; ‘the best it were to you to return to your own houses.’
The crowd answered,’What have ye done with my lord cardinal? Let us see my lord cardinal!’ — ‘The man that you call the cardinal,’ it was replied, ‘has received his reward, and in his own person will trouble the world no more.’ But his partizans only cried the louder, ‘We shall never depart till we see him,’ still persuaded that he was alive. Then one or two
men took up the body, and bearing it to the very window at which a little while before Beatoun had sat to contemplate with gladness, and as if in triumph, the execution of the pious Wishart, exposed it there to the gaze of all. f363 Beatoun’s friends and the populace, struck with amazement and terror by the unexpected sight, and remembering Wishart’s prediction, dispersed in gloom and consternation.
The tidings of this murder were speedily spread over all the land, and, while some angrily denounced it, others welcomed it as an event which restored their country to liberty. There were indeed some who, like James Melville, reckoned it a lawful act. But even among the enemies of the cardinal there were men wise and moderate, who looked on the murder with horror. It is remarked by one historian that of those who took part in it few escaped the judgment of God, who punishes transgressors by smiting them with the same stroke with which they have smitten others.
f364
The Lesleys and their friends remained masters of the castle, and they kept with them James, Lord Hamilton, afterwards earl of Arran, the regent’s eldest son, whom Beatoun had detained as his hostage, and who now became theirs. One of the conspirators, who believed that in
delivering Scotland from the tyrant they had done a praiseworthy deed, William Kirkaldy went to London. He obtained from Henry VIII., who considered the taking of the castle and the events which had accompanied it to be a lawful revolution, a declaration that he was prepared to take the party under his protection, on condition, however, that the marriage contract between Edward and Mary should be carried out. As
communication by sea was easy between the castle and London, English ships conveyed thither all supplies that were needful.
Hamilton, a bastard brother of the regent, was named by him archbishop of St. Andrews, and was confirmed by Pope Paul III. This energetic prelatde immediately pressed on his brother the duty of besieging the castle and of punishing all those who had taken it. He was strongly supported by others. On August 23 1546, the main body of the army set out from Edinburgh to form the siege; but at the end of July 1547, f365 the capture of the fortress being evidently hopeless, terms were made with the besieged advantageous to them, but which neither side had any intention of
observing. This period forms an important epoch, and we must suspend for a while the course of our narrative.
We have now traced the history of the ministry and the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton and George Wishart. We shall have by-and-by to trace, Deo adjuvante, the mighty action of the third and greatest of the Scottish reformers, John Knox.
The period, the history of which we have just over,was one of active persecution. It remains for us to recount the events of the contest with the papacy, into which the Scottish nobility energetically entered, and the victory of the Reformation. Without entering at present upon the narrative of facts, we shall cast a glance forward in order to point out what was to give the victory to evangelical Christianity. Assuredly it was not such actions as the capture of the castle and the violent death of the persecutor.
Such things are more likely to ruin a cause than to save it. The Christian life and death of Wishart contributed far more powerfully than the death of Beatoun to the advancement of the kingdom of God. The history of the Scottish Reformation serves to show the untruth of one assertion
frequently made by the enemies of the Reform.
According to them, the Reform could triumph only in those countries in which it had the protection of princes. This is a serious error. It was not the bloodthirsty Philip II. who established the Reformation in the United Provinces of the Netherlands. It was neither the feeble James V. nor the popish Mary Stuart who secured its triumph in Scotland. That worthy niece of the Guises sought only to crush it. A stronger arm than theirs fought against those mighty ones and gave the victory to the weak. The enemies of the Reformation made use in Scotland of the very weapons which in Italy, in Spain, and elsewhere arrested the movement of
regeneration. The reformers were burnt also in Scotland, but the Reform arose out of their ashes. It was neither to their character nor to their
strength that the Scots attributed the triumph. They knew that Jesus is the king of the Church, and that it is he who saves it. This is the feature which more than any other, as we shall see, characterised the Scottish
Reformation. Andrew Melville said to James VI., ‘Sire, there two kings and two kingdoms in Scotland. There is King James, the head of the state, and there is Christ who is head of the Church.’ f366To the king enthroned at
Rome, the Scottish Reformation opposed the king enthroned in heaven, and to him it attributed the victory.
But in proclaiming this supreme authority, the Reformation in Scotland also established the duties and the rights of Christians. The charge of the Church in conformity with the law of God was there entrusted to general assemblies elected by free choice of a Christian people. f367 The clergy ruled in Scotland throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and during the first part of sixteenth. The Reformation rescued the country from that clerical domination, and gave to it the first of all liberties, the freedom of faith. For centuries three powers had existed there, — the king, the nobles, and the priests, and the last had kept the upper hand. After the Reformation, two of these still remained, the king and the nobles; the people took the place of the clergy. It was under a popular form, that of Presbyterianism, that the Church of Scotland constituted itself. The feudal castles had for some time still a marked influence on the destinies of the country; but the tide of national and Christian life was steadily rising all round their walls and soon overflowed the ancient battlements which crowned the summits of those old fortresses. Laymen, the deputies of the people, obtained a voice in the presbytery, in the synod, and in the general assembly. Thus, by successive steps, the voice of the people became, through the influence of Reform, the expression of the main force of the country.
It is a grave error to attribute, as some have done, to the Protestant pastors of Scotland an incomprehensible domination, ‘an authority nowise inferior to that which they had exercised as Catholic priests,’ and to represent them as ‘the most effectual obstacle to popular progress.’ f368 Nothing has in fact been less like the haughty Catholic prelates of St. Andrews,
Glasgow, and other dioceses than a Scottish minister. The Reformation gave to Scotland not only Christian truth, but religious and political liberty besides. There, as everywhere, it took from the priesthood its magic and its supremacy, which had been its two main attributes in the Middle Ages.
The ministers, whom it substituted for the priests, having no longer the marvellous power of transforming a bit of bread into God the Creator, — these disciples of Jesus, no longer seated On the despotic throne of the confessional to give pardon for sins, became simple heralds of the divine Word. This holy Word has its place in every family and reigns supreme in