With great diligence the Lords repaired to the Queen from all quarters. So there was nothing but mirth and quietness until the next Sunday, the twenty-third of August, when preparation began to be made for that idol the Mass to be said in the chapel. This pierced the hearts of all. The godly began to bolden; and men began openly to speak, “Shall that idol be suffered again to take its place within this realm? It shall not.” The Lord Lyndsay, then but Master, with the gentlemen of Fife, and others, plainly cried in the close, “The idolater Priest should die the death,” according to God’s law. One that carried in the candle was evil effrayed; but then began flesh and blood to show itself. No Papist, or yet any that came out of France, durst whisper. But the Lord James, the man whom all the godly did most reverence, took upon him to keep the chapel door. His best excuse was that he would stop all Scotsmen from entering in to the Mass. But it was and is sufficiently known that the door was kept, that none should have entrance to trouble the priest. After the Mass, he was committed to the protection of Lord John of Coldingham, and Lord Robert of Holyroodhouse, who then were both Protestants, and had communicated at the Table of the Lord. Betwixt them two was the priest convoyed to his chamber.

The godly departed with great grief of heart, and in the afternoon repaired to the Abbey in great companies. These gave plain signification that they could not abide that the land, which God by His power had purged from idolatry, should be polluted again in their eyes. This understood, there began complaint upon complaint. The old dontibours179 and others that long had served in the Court, who had no remission of sins except by virtue of the Mass, cried that they would return to France without delay: they could not live without the Mass. The Queen’s uncles affirmed the same. Would to God that that menyie,180 together with the Mass, had bidden good-night to this realm for ever. So would Scotland have been rid of an unprofitable burden of devouring strangers, and of the malediction of God that has stricken and yet will strike in punishment of idolatry.

The Council having assembled, disputation was had as to what was the next remedy. Politic heads were sent to the gentlemen, with these and like persuasions, “Why, alas, will ye chase our Sovereign from us? She will incontinently return to her galleys; and what then shall all realms say of us? May we not suffer her a little while? We doubt not but that she shall leave it. If we were not assured that she might be won, we should be as great enemies to her Mass as ye be. Her uncles will depart, and then shall we rule all at our pleasure. Would not we be as sorry to hurt the religion as would any of you?” With these and the like persuasions, the fervency of the brethren was quenched, and an Act was framed…

This Act and Proclamation, penned and put in form by men who had formerly professed Christ Jesus (for Papists had then neither power nor vote in the Council) was publicly proclaimed at the Market Cross of Edinburgh. No man reclaimed or made repugnance to it, with the sole exception of the Earl of Arran. He, in open audience of the heralds and people, protested that he dissented that any protection or defence should be made for the Queen’s domestics or any that came from France, permitting to them more than to any other subject to offend God’s Majesty, and to violate the laws of the realm. God’s law had pronounced death against the idolater, and the laws of the realm had appointed punishment for sayers and hearers of the Mass. “I here protest,” said he, “that these ought to be universally observed, and that none should be exempted, until such time as a law, as publicly made and as consonant to the law of God, shall have disannulled the former.”

This boldness somewhat exasperated the Queen, and such as favoured her in that matter. As the Lords, now called the Lords of the Congregation, repaired to the town, they at the first coming showed themselves wondrously offended that the Mass was permitted; so that every man, as he came, accused those that had arrived before him: but after they had remained a certain time, they became as quiet as those who had preceded them. This perceived, a zealous and godly man, Robert Campbell of Kinyeancleuch, said to the Lord Ochiltree, “My Lord, ye are come almost the last of all; and I perceive by your anger that the fire-edge is not off you yet; but I fear that, after the holy water of the Court shall be sprinkled upon you, ye shall become as temperate as the rest. I have been here five days, and at the first I heard every man say, ‘Let us hang the priest;’ but, after they had been twice or thrice at the Abbey, all that fervency was past. I think there must be some enchantment whereby men are bewitched.” And, in very deed, so it came to pass. The Queen’s flattering words, ever crying, “Conscience, conscience: it is a sore thing to constrain the conscience;” and the subtle persuasions of her supposts181 (we mean even of some who at one time were judged most fervently with us) blinded all men. They allowed themselves to believe—“She will be content to hear the preaching; and so no doubt but she may be won.” And thus by all it was concluded to suffer her for a time.

On the next Sunday, John Knox, inveighing against idolatry, showed what terrible plagues God had laid upon realms and nations for this; and added that one Mass (there were no more suffered at the first) was more fearful to him than if ten thousand armed enemies were landed in any part of the realm, for the purpose of suppressing the whole religion. “In our God,” said he, “there is strength to resist and confound multitudes, if we unfeignedly depend upon Him; and of this we have had experience heretofore. But when we join hands with idolatry, there is no doubt that both God’s amicable presence and comfortable defence leave us, and what shall then become of us? Alas, I fear that experience shall teach us, to the grief of many.” At these words, the guiders of the Court mocked, and plainly said that such fear was no point of their faith: it was outside his text, and was a very untimely admonition…

Whether it was by counsel of others, or of the Queen’s own desire, we know not; but the Queen spake with John Knox, and had long reasoning with him, none being present except the Lord James: two gentlewomen stood at the other end of the apartment. The sum of their reasoning was this. The Queen accused him of having raised a part of her subjects against her mother and against herself. He had, she said, written a book against her just authority (she meant the treatise against the regiment of women) which she had, and she should cause the most learned in Europe to write against it; he was the cause of great sedition and great slaughter in England; she was informed that all he did was by necromancy, and so on.

The said John answered, “Madam, it may please your Majesty patiently to hear my simple answers. And first,” said he, “if to teach the truth of God in sincerity, if to rebuke idolatry, and to will a people to worship God according to His Word, be to raise subjects against their princes, then can I not be excused; for it has pleased God in His mercy to make me one, amongst many, to disclose unto this realm the vanity of the papistical religion, and the deceit, pride, and tyranny of that Roman Antichrist. But, Madam, if the true knowledge of God and His right worshipping be the chief causes that must move men from their heart to obey their just princes, as it is most certain that they are, wherein can I be reprehended? I think, and am surely persuaded, that your Grace has had, and presently has, as unfeigned obedience from such as profess Jesus Christ within this realm, as ever your father, or other progenitors had from those that were called bishops. And, touching that book which seemeth so highly to offend your Majesty, it is most certain that I wrote it, and am content that all the learned of the world should judge of it. I hear that an Englishman hath written against it, but I have not read him. If he have sufficiently improved my reasons, and established his contrary proposition, with as evident testimonies as I have done mine, I shall not be obstinate, but shall confess my error and ignorance. But to this hour I have thought, and yet think myself alone to be more able to sustain the things affirmed in that work, than any ten in Europe shall be able to confute it.”

Queen Mary. Ye think, then, that I have no just authority?

John Knox. Please, your Majesty, learned men in all ages have had their judgments free, and most commonly disagreeing from the common judgment of the world; such also have they published, both with pen and tongue, and yet they themselves have lived in common society with others, and have borne patiently with the errors and imperfections which they could not amend. Plato, the philosopher, wrote his book of The Commonwealth. In this he damned many things that then were maintained in the world, and required many things to be reformed; and yet he lived under such polities as then were universally received, without further troubling any state. Even so, Madam, am I content to do, in uprightness of heart, and with the testimony of a good conscience. I have communicated my judgment to the world; if the realm finds no inconvenience from the regiment of a woman, that which they approve shall I not disallow, further than within my own breast. I shall be as well content to live under your Grace as Paul was to live under Nero; and my hope is that, so long as ye defile not your hands with the blood of the saints of God, neither I nor that book shall either hurt you or your authority: for, in very deed, Madam, that book was written most especially against that wicked Jezebel of England.

Queen Mary. But ye speak of women in general.

John Knox. Most true it is, Madam, and yet it appeareth to me that wisdom should persuade your Grace never to raise trouble for that which to this day hath not troubled your Majesty, in person or in authority. Of late years, many things, which before were holden stable, have been called in doubt; yea, they have been plainly impugned. But yet, Madam, I am assured that neither Protestant nor Papist shall be able to prove that any such question was at any time moved in public or in secret. Now, Madam, if I had intended to have troubled your estate because ye are a woman, I might have chosen a time more convenient for that purpose than I can do now, when your own presence is within the realm.

But now, Madam, shortly to answer to the other two accusations. I heartily praise my God, through Jesus Christ, that Satan, the enemy of mankind, and the wicked of the world, have no other crimes to lay to my charge, than such as the very world itself knoweth to be most false and vain. I was resident in England for only the space of five years. The places were Berwick, where I abode two years; so long in Newcastle; and a year in London. Now, Madam, if any man shall be able to prove that there was either battle, sedition, or mutiny in any of these places, during the time that I was there, I shall confess that I myself was the malefactor, and the shedder of the blood. Further, Madam, I am not ashamed to affirm that God so blessed my weak labours that, in Berwick, where commonly before there used to be slaughter, by reason of quarrels that used to arise amongst soldiers, there was as great quietness, all the time that I remained there, as there is this day in Edinburgh. And where they slander me of magic, necromancy, or of any other art forbidden by God, I have, besides my own conscience, all congregations that ever heard me as witnesses that I spake against such arts, and against those that use such impiety…

Queen Mary. But yet ye have taught the people to receive another religion than their princes can allow. How can that doctrine be of God, seeing that God commands subjects to obey their princes?

John Knox. Madam, as right religion took neither original strength nor authority from worldly princes, but from the Eternal God alone, subjects are not bound to frame their religion according to the appetites of their princes. Oft it is that princes are the most ignorant of all others in God’s true religion, as we may read in the histories of times before the death of Christ Jesus, as well as after. If all the seed of Abraham should have been of the religion of Pharaoh, to whom they were long subjects, I pray you, Madam, what religion should there have been in the world? Or, if all men in the days of the Apostles should have been of the religion of the Roman Emperors, what religion should there have been upon the face of the earth? Daniel and his fellows were subjects to Nebuchadnezzar, and to Darius, and yet, Madam, they would not be of their religion: for the three children said, “We make it known unto thee, O King, that we will not worship thy gods.” And Daniel did pray publicly to his God against the expressed commandment of the King. And so, Madam, ye may perceive that subjects are not bound to the religion of their princes, albeit they are commanded to give them obedience.

Queen Mary. Yea, but none of these men raised the sword against their princes.

John Knox. Yet, Madam, ye cannot deny that they resisted: for, in some sort, these resist that obey not the commandments that are given.

Queen Mary. But yet, they resisted not by the sword.

John Knox. God, Madam, had not given unto them the power and the means.

Queen Mary. Think ye, that subjects having power may resist their princes.

John Knox. If their princes exceed their bounds, Madam, no doubt they should be resisted, even by power. For there is neither greater honour, nor greater obedience to be given to kings or princes, than God has commanded to be given to father and mother. But, Madam, the father may be stricken with a frenzy, in which he would slay his own children. Now, Madam, if the children arise, join themselves together, apprehend the father, take the sword or other weapons from him, and finally bind his hands, and keep him in prison, until his frenzy be overpast; think ye, Madam, that the children do any wrong? Or, think ye, Madam, that God will be offended with them that have stayed their father from committing wickedness? It is even so, Madam, with princes that would murder the children of God that are subject unto them. Their blind zeal is nothing but a very mad frenzy; and, therefore, to take the sword from them, to bind their hands, and to cast them into prison until they be brought to a more sober mind, is no disobedience against princes, but just obedience, because it agreeth with the will of God.

At these words the Queen stood as it were amazed, for more than quarter of an hour. Her countenance altered, so that Lord James began to entreat her, and to demand, “What has offended you, Madam.”

At length she said, “Well, then, I perceive that my subjects shall obey you, and not me; and shall do what they list, and not what I command: and so must I be subject to them, and not they to me.”

John Knox. God forbid, that ever I take upon me to command any to obey me, or yet to set subjects at liberty to do what pleaseth them. But my travail is that both princes and subjects obey God. And think not, Madam, that wrong is done to you when ye are willed to be subject to God. It is He that subjects people under princes, and causes obedience to be given to them; yea, God craves of kings that they be, as it were, foster-fathers to His Church, and commands queens to be nurses to His people. And, Madam, this subjection to God and to His troubled Church is the greatest dignity that flesh can get upon the face of the earth, for it shall carry them to everlasting glory.

Queen Mary. Yea, but ye are not the Kirk that I will nurse. I will defend the Kirk of Rome, for I think it is the true Kirk of God.

John Knox. Your will, Madam, is no reason; neither doth your thought make of that Roman harlot the true and immaculate spouse of Jesus Christ. Wonder not, Madam, that I call Rome a harlot; for that Church is altogether polluted with all kind of spiritual fornication, as well in doctrine as in manners. Yea, Madam, I offer myself further to prove that the Church of the Jews that crucified Christ Jesus, when it manifestly denied the Son of God, was not so far degenerated from the ordinances and statutes which God gave by Moses and Aaron unto His people, as the Church of Rome is declined, and for more than five hundred years hath declined from the purity of that religion which the Apostles taught and planted.

Queen Mary. My conscience is not so.

John Knox. Conscience, Madam, requires knowledge; and I fear that right knowledge ye have none.

Queen Mary. But I have both heard and read.

John Knox. So, Madam, did the Jews that crucified Christ Jesus read both the Law and the Prophets, and heard the same interpreted after their manner. Have ye heard any teach, but such as the Pope and his Cardinals have allowed? Ye may be assured that such will speak nothing to offend their own estate.

Queen Mary. Ye interpret the Scriptures in one manner, and they interpret in another; whom shall I believe? And who shall be judge?

John Knox. Ye shall believe God, that plainly speaketh in His Word: and, farther than the Word teaches you, ye shall believe neither the one nor the other. The Word of God is plain in itself; and, if there appear any obscurity in one place, the Holy Ghost, who is never contrary to Himself, explains the same more clearly in other places: so that there can remain no doubt, but to such as obstinately remain ignorant. And now, Madam, take one of the chief points this day in controversy betwixt the Papists and us. For example, the Papists allege and boldly have affirmed that the Mass is the ordinance of God, and the institution of Jesus Christ, and a sacrifice for the sins of the quick and the dead. We deny both the one and the other, and affirm that the Mass, as it is now used, is nothing but the invention of man; and, therefore, is an abomination before God, and no sacrifice that ever God commanded. Now, Madam, who shall judge betwixt us two thus contending? There is no reason that either of the parties be believed farther than they are able to prove by insuspect witnessing. Let them lay down the Book of God and, by the plain words thereof, prove their affirmation, and we shall give them the plea granted. But so long as they are bold to affirm, and yet do prove nothing, we must say that, albeit all the world believe them, yet they believe not God, but receive the lies of men for the truth of God. What our Master Jesus Christ did, we know from His Evangelists: what the priest doeth at his Mass, the world seeth. Now, doth not the Word of God plainly assure us that Christ Jesus neither said, nor yet commanded Mass to be said at His Last Supper, seeing that no such thing as their Mass is made mention of within the whole Scriptures?

Queen Mary. Ye are ower sair182 for me, but if they were here that I have heard, they would answer you.

John Knox. Madam, would to God that the learnedest Papist in Europe, and him whom ye would best believe, were present with your Grace to sustain the argument; and that ye would patiently abide to hear the matter reasoned to the end; for then, I doubt not, Madam, ye should hear the vanity of the papistical religion, and how small ground it hath within the Word of God.

Queen Mary. Well, ye may perchance get that sooner than ye believe.

John Knox. Assuredly, if ever I get that in my life, I get it sooner than I believe; for the ignorant Papists cannot patiently reason, and the learned and crafty Papists will never come to your audience, Madam, to have the ground of their religion searched out. They know that they are never able to sustain an argument, unless fire, and sword, and their own laws be judges.

Queen Mary. So say ye, but I cannot believe that.

John Knox. It has been so to this day; for how oft have the Papists in this and other realms been required to come to conference, and yet it could never be obtained, unless they themselves were admitted as judges. Therefore, Madam, I must yet say again that they dare never dispute, but where themselves are both judge and party. Whensoever ye shall let me see the contrary, I shall grant myself to have been deceived in that point.

With this the Queen was called to dinner, for it was afternoon. At departing, John Knox said to her, “I pray God, Madam, that ye may be as blessed within the commonwealth of Scotland, if it be the pleasure of God, as ever Deborah was in the commonwealth of Israel.”

Of this long conference, whereof we only touch a part, there were divers opinions. The Papists grudged, and feared that which they needed not. The godly, thinking that at least she would have heard the preaching, rejoiced; but they were utterly deceived, for she continued in her massing; and despised and quietly mocked all exhortations.

Some of his familiars demanded of John Knox what he thought of the Queen. “If there be not in her,” said he, “a proud mind, a crafty wit, and an indurate heart against God and His truth, my judgment faileth me…”

The Duke D’Aumale returned with the galleys to France. The Queen entered on her progresses, and in the month of September travelled from Edinburgh to Linlithgow, Stirling, Perth, Dundee, and St. Andrews; and all these parts she polluted with her idolatry. Fire followed her very commonly in that journey. The towns propyned183 her liberally, and the French were enriched.

In the beginning of October, the Queen returned to Edinburgh, and on the day appointed she was received in the Castle. Great preparations were made for her entrance to the town. In farces, in masking, and in other prodigalities, fools would fain have counterfeited France. Whatsoever might set forth her glory, that she heard and gladly beheld. The keys were delivered to her by a pretty boy, descending as it were from a cloud. The verses in her own praises she heard, and smiled. But when the Bible was presented, and its praise declared, she began to frown: for shame she could not refuse it. But she did no better, for immediately she gave it to the most pestilent Papist within the realm, to wit, to Arthur Erskine. Since that day, the people of Edinburgh have reaped as they sowed. They gave her some taste of their prodigality; and because the liquor was sweet, she has licked of that buist184 oftener than twice since. All men know what we mean: the Queen cannot lack and the subjects have.

It hath been an ancient and a laudable custom in Edinburgh that the Provost, Bailies, and Council, after their election at Michaelmas, cause public proclamation of the statutes and ordinances of the town. Therefore Archibald Douglas, Provost, Edward Hope, Adam Fullerton, Mr. James Watson, and David Somer, Bailies, made proclamation, according to the former statutes of the town, that no adulterer, no fornicator, no noted drunkard, no mass-monger, no obstinate Papists that corrupted the people, such as priests, friars, and others of that sort, should be found within the town within forty-eight hours thereafter, under the pains contained in the statutes. This blown in the Queen’s ears, pride and maliciousness began to show themselves; for, without further intimation, the Provost and Bailies were charged to ward in the Castle; and immediately commandment was given that another Provost and other Bailies should be elected.

Some gainstood the new election for a while, alleging that the Provost and Bailies whom they had chosen, and to whom they had given their oath, had committed no offence for which they ought justly to be deprived. But charge was doubled upon charge, and, no man being found to oppose the iniquity, Jezebel’s letter and wicked will were obeyed as law. So Mr. Thomas M’Calzean was chosen. The man, no doubt, was both discreet and sufficient for that charge; but the deposition of the other was against all law. God be merciful to some of our own; for they were not all blameless that her wicked will was so far obeyed.

A contrary proclamation was publicly made, to the effect that the town should be patent unto all the Queen’s lieges; and so murderers, adulterers, thieves, whores, drunkards, idolaters, and all malefactors, got protection under the Queen’s wings, under that colour, because they were of her religion. And so gat the Devil freedom again, where before he durst not have been seen in daylight upon the common streets. “Lord deliver us from that bondage.”

The Devil, finding his reins loose, ran forward in his course; and the Queen took upon her greater boldness than she and Baal’s bleating priests durst have attempted before. For, upon Allhallow Day, they blended their Mass with all mischievous solemnity. The ministers, offended, declared in plain and public place the inconveniences that should ensue, and the nobility were sufficiently admonished of their duties. But affection caused men to call in doubt that wherein shortly before they had seemed to be most resolute, to wit, “Whether subjects might put to their hand to suppress the idolatry of their Prince.” Upon this question, there convened, in the house of Mr. James Macgill, the Lord James, the Earl of Morton, the Earl Marischall, Secretary Lethington, the Justice Clerk, and the Clerk of Register. All reasoned for the part of the Queen, affirming that the subjects might not lawfully take her Mass from her. Of the contrary judgment were the principal ministers, Mr. John Row, Master George Hay, Master Robert Hamilton, and John Knox…

The conclusion of that first reasoning was that the question should be put in form, and letters directed to Geneva for the resolution of that Church. Therein John Knox offered his labours; but Secretary Lethington, alleging that much depended on the information, said that he should write. But that was only to drive time, as the truth declared itself. The Queen’s party urged that the Queen should have her religion free in her own chapel, that she and her household might do what they should list. The ministers both affirmed and voted to the contrary, adding that her liberty should be their thraldom before long. But neither could reason nor threatening move the affections of such as were creeping into credit, and the votes of the Lords prevailed against those of the ministers.

For the punishment of theft and of reif,185 which had increased upon the Borders and in the south, since the Queen’s arrival, the Lord James was made Lieutenant. Some suspected that such honour and charge proceeded from the same heart and counsel as that by which Saul made David captain against the Philistines. But God assisted him, and bowed the hearts of men to fear and obey him. Yea, the Lord Bothwell himself at that time assisted him. Sharp execution was made in Jedburgh, for twenty-eight of one clan and others were hanged at that Justice Court. Bribes, buds, nor solicitation saved the guilty, if he could be apprehended; and God prospered the Lord James in his integrity. He also spake with the Lord Grey from England at Kelso, that good rule might be kept upon both the Borders, and they agreed in all things.

Before the return of the Lord James, the Queen one night took a fray186 in her bed, as if horsemen had been in the close, and the Palace had been enclosed about. Whether this proceeded of her own womanly fantasy, or men had put her in fear, for displeasure of the Earl of Arran, and for other purposes, as for the strengthening of the guard, we know not. But the fear was so great that the town was called to the watch. Lords Robert of Holyroodhouse and John of Coldingham kept the watch by turns. Scouts were sent forth, and sentinels were commanded, under pain of death, to keep their stations. Yet they feared, where there was no cause for fear: nor could ever any appearance or suspicion of such things be discovered.

Shortly after the return of the Lord James, Sir Peter Mewtas came from the Queen of England, with commission to require the ratification of the Peace made at Leith. His answer was even such as we have heard before—that she behoved to advise, and then should send answer.

In presence of her Council, the Queen kept herself very grave, for, under the dule weed,187 she could play the hypocrite in full perfection; but as soon as ever her French fillocks,188 fiddlers, and others of that band, got the house alone, there might have been seen skipping not very comely for honest women. Her common talk was in secret; she saw nothing in Scotland but gravity, which repugned altogether to her nature, for she was brought up in joyousness, as she termed her dancing, and other things thereto belonging.

The General Assembly of the Church was held in the December after the Queen’s arrival. There the rulers of the Court began to draw themselves apart from the society of their brethren, and to sturr189 and grudge that anything should be consulted upon without their advices. Master John Wood, who had formerly shown himself very fervent in the cause of God, and forward in giving his counsel in all doubtful matters, plainly refused ever to assist the Assembly again. At this many did wonder. The courtiers drew to them some of the Lords, and would not convene with their brethren, as had been their former custom, remaining at the Abbey instead. The principal commissioners of the churches, the superintendents, and some ministers went to see them at the Abbot’s lodging within Holyroodhouse. Both the parties began to open their grief.

The Lords complained that the ministers drew the gentlemen into secret councils without their knowledge. The ministers denied that they had done anything in secret, or otherwise than the Common Order commanded them; and accused the Lords, the flatterers of the Queen we mean, for not having kept convention with their brethren, considering that they knew the order, and that the same was appointed by their own advices, as the Book of Discipline, subscribed by the hands of the most part of them, would witness. Some began to deny that ever they knew such a thing as the Book of Discipline; and also called in doubt whether it was expedient that such conventions should be held; for gladly would the Queen and her Secret Council have had all assemblies of the godly discharged.

The reasoning was sharp and quick on either part. The Queen’s faction alleged that it was suspicious to Princes that subjects should assemble themselves and keep conventions without their knowledge. It was answered that the Church did nothing without knowledge of the Prince. The Prince perfectly understood that within this realm there was a Reformed Church, and that they had their orders and appointed times of convention. “Yea,” said Lethington, “the Queen knew and knoweth it well enough; but the question is, whether the Queen allows such conventions?” It was answered, “If the liberty of the Church should stand upon the Queen’s allowance or disallowance, we are assured not only to lack assemblies, but also the public preaching of the Evangel.”

That affirmative was mocked, and the contrary was affirmed. “Well,” said the other, “time will try the truth; but to my former words this will I add—take from us the freedom of assemblies, and take from us the Evangel; for, without assemblies, how shall good order and unity in doctrine be kept? It is not to be supposed that all ministers shall be so perfect, but that they shall need admonition, concerning manners as well as doctrine. It may be that some shall be so stiff-necked that they will not admit the admonition of the simple. It may be that fault may be found with ministers, without just offence committed. Yet, if order be not taken, both with the complainer and the persons complained upon, it cannot be avoided that many grievous offences shall arise. For remedy of these, General Assemblies are necessary. There, the judgment and the gravity of many concur to correct or to repress the follies or errors of a few.” The majority of the Nobility and of the Barons assented to this, and willed the reasoners for the part of the Queen to desire that, if her Grace were suspicious of anything that was to be dealt with in their Assemblies, she should be pleased to send such as she would appoint, to hear whatsoever was proponed or reasoned.

After that, the Book of Discipline was put forward, with request that it should be ratified by the Queen’s Majesty. That was scripped at, and it was demanded, “How many of those that had subscribed that Book would be subject unto it?” It was answered, “All the godly.” “Will the Duke?” said Lethington. “If he will not,” answered the Lord Ochiltree, “I would that he were scraped out, not only from that Book, but also from our number and company. For to what purpose shall labours be taken to put the Kirk in order, and to what end shall men subscribe, and then never mean to keep a word of that which they promise?” Lethington answered, “Many subscribed there in fide parentum , as the bairns are baptized.” John Knox answered, “Albeit ye think that scoff proper, yet, as it is most untrue, so is it most improper. That Book was read in public audience, and by the space of divers days the heads thereof were reasoned, as all that here sit know well enough, and ye yourself cannot deny; no man was required to subscribe that which he understood not.” “Stand content,” said one, “that Book will not be obtained.” “Let God,” said the other, “require the lack which this poor Commonwealth shall have of the things therein contained, from the hands of such as stop the same.”

The Barons, perceiving that the Book of Discipline was refused, presented certain Articles to the Council, requiring idolatry to be suppressed, their churches to be planted with true ministers, and some certain provision to be made for these, according to equity and conscience; for, until that time, the most part of the ministers had lived upon the benevolence of men. Many held in their own hands the fruits that the bishops and others of that sect had formerly abused; and so some part was bestowed upon the ministers. But then the bishops began to grip again at that which most unjustly they called their own; for the Earl of Arran was discharged of St. Andrews and Dunfermline, with which, by virtue of a factory, he had formerly intromitted: and so were many others. Therefore the Barons required that arrangements might be made for their ministers. Otherwise, they would obey the bishops no more, nor would they suffer anything to be taken for their use, more than they did before the Queen’s arrival. They verily supposed that the Queen’s Majesty would keep promise made to them, not to alter their religion. That could not remain without ministers, and ministers could not live without provision. For these reasons, they heartily desired the Council to provide some convenient order in that respect.

The Queen’s flatterers were somewhat moved; for the rod of impiety was not then strengthened in her and their hands. So they began to practise; they wished to please the Queen, and yet seem somewhat to satisfy the faithful. In the end, they devised that the Churchmen190 should have intromission with two parts of their benefices, and that the third part should be lifted by such men as thereto should be appointed for [the necessities concerning the Queen’s Majesty, and charges to be borne for the common weal of the realm, and sustentation of the preachers and readers.]191…

Even in the beginning, the ministers, in their public sermons, opposed themselves to such corruption, for they foresaw the purpose of the Devil, and clearly understood the butt at which the Queen and her flatterers shot. In the stool192 of Edinburgh, John Knox said, “Well, if the end of this order, pretended to be taken for sustentation of the ministers, be happy, my judgment faileth me; for I am assured that the Spirit of God is not the author of it. First I see two parts freely given to the Devil, and then the third must be divided betwixt God and the Devil. Bear witness to me that this day I say it—before long the Devil shall have three parts of the third; judge what God’s portion shall then be.” This was an unsavoury saying in the ears of many. Some were not ashamed to affirm, “The ministers being sustained, the Queen will not, at the year’s end, have enough to buy her a pair of new shoes.” And this was Secretary Lethington.

There were appointed to modify193 the ministers’ stipends, the Earls Argyll, Moray, and Morton, Lethington, the Justice Clerk, and the Clerk of Register. The Laird of Pittarrow was appointed to pay the ministers’ stipends, according to their modification. Who would have thought that, when Joseph ruled Egypt, his brethren should have travelled for victuals, and have returned to their families with empty sacks? Men would rather have thought that Pharaoh’s poise, treasure, and girnells should have been diminished, before the household of Jacob should have stood in danger of starving for hunger.

So busy and circumspect were the modificators (because it was a new office, the term must also be new) to secure that the ministers should not be too wanton, a hundred marks was considered sufficient for a single man, being a common minister. Three hundred marks was the highest stipend appointed to any, except to the superintendents, and a few others. Shortly, whether it was from the niggardliness of their own hearts, or the care that they had to enrich the Queen, we know not; but the poor ministers, readers, and exhorters cried out to the heaven, as their complaints in all Assemblies do witness, that neither were they able to live upon the stipends appointed, nor could they get payment of that small thing that was appointed. The Comptroller would fain have played the good valet, and have satisfied the Queen, or else his own profit, in every point; and he got this saying and proverb, “The good Laird of Pittarrow was an earnest professor of Christ; but the big Devil receive the Comptroller, for he and his collectors are become greedy factors.”194

We put an end to this unpleasing story. When the brethren complained of their poverty, it was disdainfully answered by some, “There are many Lords that have not so much to spend.” Men did reason that the vocation of ministers craved books, quietness, study, and travel, to edify the Kirk of Jesus Christ, while many Lairds were waiting upon their worldly business. The stipends of ministers, who had no other industry, but had to live upon that which was appointed, ought therefore not to be modified according to the livings of common men, who might and did daily augment their rents by some other industry. But they gat no other answer than, “The Queen can spare no greater sums.” Oft was it cried into their ears, “O happy servants of the Devil, and miserable servants of Jesus Christ; if after this life there were not hell and heaven.” To the servants of the Devil, to your dumb dogs and horned bishops, to one of those idle bellies, I say, ten thousand was not enough; but to the servants of Christ that painfully preach His Evangel, a thousand pounds; how can that be defended?

One day, in reasoning of this matter, the Secretary burst out in a piece of his choler, and said, “The ministers have so much paid to them year by year, and who yet ever bade the Queen ‘grand-mercies’ for it? Was there ever a minister that gave thanks to God for her Majesty’s liberality towards them?” One smiled and answered, “Assuredly, I think that such as receive anything gratis of the Queen, are unthankful if they acknowledge it not, both in heart and mouth. But whether the ministers be of that rank or not, I greatly doubt. Gratis, I am assured, they receive nothing; and whether they receive anything at all from the Queen, wise men may reason. I am assured that neither Third nor ‘Two-part’ ever appertained to any of her predecessors within this realm these thousand years by-past, nor yet has the Queen better title to that which she usurps, be it in giving to others or in taking to herself, than had such as crucified Jesus to divide His garments amongst them. If the truth may be spoken, she has not so good title as they had; for such spoil used to be the reward of such men. And these soldiers were more gentle than the Queen and her flatterers, for they parted not the garments of our Master until He Himself was hung upon the cross; but she and her flatterers do part the spoil while poor Christ is yet preaching amongst you. But the wisdom of our God makes trial of us by this means, knowing well enough what she and her faction have purposed to do. Let the Papists, who have some the Two-parts, some their Thirds free, and some abbacies and feu lands, thank the Queen, and sing, ’ Placebo Dominæ .’ The poor preachers will not yet flatter, for feeding of their belly.” These words were judged proud and intolerable, and engendered no small displeasure to the speaker.

This we put in memory, that the posterities to come may know that God once made His truth to triumph; but, because some of ourselves delighted more in darkness than in light, He hath restrained our freedom, and put the whole body in bondage…

In the meantime, to wit, in February, the year of God 1561, Lord James Stewart was first made Earl of Mar,195 and then married to Agnes Keith, daughter to the Earl Marischall. At the marriage, which was public in the church of Edinburgh, they both got an admonition to behave themselves moderately in all things; “For,” said the preacher (John Knox) to him, “to this day the Kirk of God hath received comfort by you, and by your labours. If hereafter ye shall be found fainter in this than ye were before, it will be said that your wife hath changed your nature.” The greatness of the banquet, and the vanity used thereat, offended many godly. There began the masking, which from year to year hath continued since.

Master Randolph, agent for the Queen of England, was then, and for some time after, in no small conceit with our Queen; for his mistress’ sake, she drank to him in a cup of gold, which he possessed with greater joy for the favour of the giver, than for the gift and its value; and yet it was honourable. The things that then were in handling betwixt the two Queens—Lethington, Secretary Cecil, and Master Randolph being ministers—were of great weight, as we will afterwards hear.

This winter, the Earl Bothwell, the Marquis D’Elbœuf, and Lord John of Coldingham, played riot in Edinburgh, misordered the whole town, broke Cuthbert Ramsay’s gates and doors, and searched his house for his good-daughter,196 Alison Craik. This was done in despite of the Earl of Arran, whose mistress the said Alison was suspected to have been. The horror of this fact, and the rarity of it, highly commoved all godly hearts. The Assembly and the nobility were in the town for the most part; and they concluded to crave justice by supplication. This they did…

This supplication was presented by divers gentlemen. At first the flatterers of the Court stormed, and asked, “Who durst avow it?” The Master, now Lord Lyndsay, answered, “A thousand gentlemen within Edinburgh.” Others were ashamed to oppose themselves to the supplication in public; but they suborned the Queen to give a gentle answer until such time as the Convention was dissolved. This she did; for she lacks no craft, both to cloak and to maintain impiety. She alleged that her uncle was a stranger and had a young company; but that she should put such order to him, and unto all others, that thereafter they should have no occasion to complain…

But punishment of that enormity and fearful attempt we could get none: more and more they presumed to do violence, and frequented nightly masking. Some, as Robin Craig’s household, because his daughter was fair, delighted therein; others lamented, and began to bear the matter very heavily. At length, the Lord Duke’s friends assembled one night upon the causeway. The Abbot of Kilwinning (who then was joined to the Church, and, as we understand, doth yet abide so) was the principal man at the beginning. To him repaired many faithful; and amongst others came Andrew Stewart, Lord Ochiltree, a man rather born to make peace than to brag upon the causeway, and demanded the quarrel. Being informed of the former enormity, he said, “Nay, such impiety shall not be suffered so long as God shall assist us. By His grace, we will maintain the victory that God in His mercy hath given.” So he commanded his son, Andrew Stewart, then Master, and his servants to put themselves in order, and to bring forth their spears and long weapons; and thus did others.

Word came to the Earl Bothwell and his party that the Hamiltons were upon the gait.197 Vows were made that the Hamiltons should be dung not only out of the town, but also out of the country. Lord John of Coldingham had married the Earl Bothwell’s sister, a sufficient woman for such a man; others drew the Lord Robert; and so they both joined with the Earl Bothwell. But the stoutness of the Marquis Le Bœuf, D’Elbœuf they call him, is most to be commended; for in his chamber, within the Abbey, he started to a halbert, and ten men were scarcely able to hold him; but, as hap was, the inner gate of the Abbey kept him that night. The danger was betwixt the Cross and the Salt Tron; and so he was a large quarter of a mile from the shot and slanting198 of bolts. The Master of Maxwell gave declaration to the Earl Bothwell that, if he stirred from his lodging, he, and all that would assist him, should resist him in the face: these words did somewhat beat down that blast. The Earls of Huntly and Moray,199 being in the Abbey where the Marquis was, came with their companies, sent from the Queen to stay that tumult. This they did; for Bothwell and his party were commanded to keep their lodgings, under pain of treason.

It was whispered by many that the desire for a quarrel with the Earl of Moray was as strong as was any hatred that the Hamiltons bore against the Earl Bothwell, or he against them. Indeed, either had the Duke very false servants, or else the Earl of Moray’s death was conspired oftener than once by Huntly and the Hamiltons. Suspicion of this burst forth so far that one day the said Earl, being upon horse to come to the sermon, was charged by one of the Duke’s own servants to return and abide with the Queen.

The Earl Bothwell, by means of James Barron, burgess200 and merchant of Edinburgh, desired to speak with John Knox secretly. The said John gladly granted this request, and spake with him one night, first in the said James’s lodging, and thereafter in his own study. The said Earl lamented his former inordinate life, and especially that he had been provoked by the enticements of the Queen Regent to do that which he sorely repented, as well as his conduct towards the Laird of Ormiston, whose blood had been spilt, albeit not by his fault. But his chief dolour was that he had misbehaved himself against the Earl of Arran, whose favours he was most willing to redeem, if it were possible that he might do so. He desired the said John to give him his best counsel. “For,” said he, “if I might have my Lord of Arran’s favours, I would wait upon the Court with a page and few servants, to spare my expenses. At present I am compelled, for my own safety, to keep a number of wicked and unprofitable men, to the utter destruction of what of my living there is left.”

The said John answered, “My Lord, would to God that in me were counsel or judgment that might comfort and relieve you. Albeit to this hour it hath not chanced me to speak with your Lordship face to face, yet have I borne a good mind to your house; and I have been sorry at my heart concerning the troubles that I have heard you to be involved in. My grandfather, goodsire,201 and father, have served your Lordship’s predecessors, and some of them have died under their standards; and this is a part of the obligation of our Scottish kindness:202 but this is not my chief reason. As God has made me His public messenger of glad tidings, it is my earnest desire that all men may embrace the same, and they cannot do this perfectly so long as there remaineth in them rancour, malice, or envy. I am very sorry that ye have given occasion to men to be offended with you; but I am more sorry that ye have offended the Majesty of God, who by such means oft punishes the other sins of man. Therefore, my counsel is that ye begin at God; if ye will enter into perfect reconciliation with Him, I doubt not but He shall bow the hearts of men to forget all offences. As for me, if ye continue in godliness, your Lordship may command me as boldly as any that serves your Lordship.”

The said Lord desired John Knox that he would sound the Earl of Arran as to whether he would be content to receive him into his favour. This he promised to do; and he so earnestly travailed in that matter, that it was once brought to a conclusion and agreement, such as caused all the faithful to praise God. The greatest stay203 stood upon the satisfaction of the Laird of Ormiston, who, besides his former hurt, was, even at the time of the communing, pursued by the said Lord Bothwell, his son Master Alexander Cockburn taken by him, and carried with him to Borthwick, but gently enough sent back again.

That new trouble so greatly displeased John Knox, that he almost gave over farther travailing for amity. But yet, upon receiving the excuse of the said Earl, and after the declaration of his mind, he re-entered upon his labours, and brought it to pass that the Laird of Ormiston referred his satisfaction in all things to the judgments of the Earls of Arran and Moray. To them the said Earl Bothwell submitted himself in that respect, and thereupon delivered his handwrit. He was convoyed by certain of his friends to the lodging of the Kirk-of-Field, where the Earl of Arran was with his friends, the said John Knox being with him, to bear witness and testification of the end of the agreement. As the Earl Bothwell entered at the chamber door, and would have done those honours that friends had appointed (Master Gavin Hamilton and the Laird of Riccarton were the chief friends that communed) the Earl of Arran gently passed to him, embraced him, and said, “If the hearts be upright, few ceremonies may serve and content me.”

The said John Knox, in audience of them both and of their friends, then said, “Now, my Lords, God hath brought you together by the labours of simple men, in respect of such as would have travailed therein. I know my labours are already taken in an evil part; but, because I have the testimony of a good conscience before my God that whatsoever I have done, I have done in His fear, for the profit of you both, for the hurt of none, and for the tranquillity of this realm: seeing, I say, that my conscience beareth witness to me—a witness that I have sought and continually seek—I the more patiently bear the misreports and wrongous judgments of men. And now I leave you in peace, and desire you that are the friends to study that amity may increase, all former offences being forgotten.” The friends of either part embraced the others, and the two Earls departed to a window, and talked by themselves familiarly for a reasonable space. Thereafter the Earl Bothwell departed for that night; and upon the next day in the morning he returned, with some of his honest friends, and came to the sermon with the Earl foresaid. At this many rejoiced. But God had another work to work than the eyes of men could espy.

The next Thursday, the 26th of March 1562, they dined together; and thereafter the said Earl Bothwell and Master Gavin Hamilton rode to my Lord Duke’s Grace, who then was at Kinneil. What communication was had betwixt them, it is not certainly known, except by the report which the said Earl of Arran made to the Queen’s Grace, and to the Earl of Moray, by his writings. For upon Friday, the fourth day after their reconciliation, the sermon being ended, the said Earl of Arran came to the house of John Knox, and brought with him Master Richard Strang and Alexander Guthrie. To them he opened the grief of his mind before John Knox was called; for he was occupied, as he is wont to be after his sermons, in directing of writings.

These labours ended, the said Earl called the three together, and said, “I am treasonably betrayed;” and with these words began to weep. John Knox demanded, “My Lord, who has betrayed you?” “One Judas, or other,” said he; “but I know it is but my life that is sought: I regard it not.” The other said, “My Lord, I understand not such dark manner of speaking: if I shall give you any answer, you must speak more plain.” “Well,” said he, “I take you three to witness that I open this to you, and I will write it to the Queen. An act of treason is laid to my charge; the Earl of Bothwell has shown to me in counsel that he shall take the Queen and put her in my hands in the Castle of Dumbarton; and that he shall slay the Earl of Moray, Lethington, and others that now misguide her: and so shall I and he rule all. But I know that this is devised to accuse me of treason; for I know that he will inform the Queen of it. But I take you to witness that I open it here to you; and, incontinently, I will go and write to the Queen’s Majesty, and to my brother, the Earl of Moray.”

John Knox demanded, “Did ye consent, my Lord, to any part of that treason?” He answered, “Nay.” “Then,” said he, “in my judgment, his words, albeit they were spoken, can never be treason to you; for the performance of the act depends upon your will, whereto ye say ye have dissented; and so shall that purpose vanish and die by itself, unless ye waken it; for it is not to be supposed that he will accuse you of that which he himself devised, and whereto ye would not consent.” “O,” said he, “ye understand not what craft is used against me: it is treason to conceal treason.” “My Lord,” said he, “treason must import consent and determination, which I hear upon neither of your parts. Therefore, my Lord, in my judgment, it shall be more sure and more honourable to you to depend upon your innocence, and to abide the unjust accusation of another, if any follow thereof, as I think there shall not, than for you to accuse, especially after so recent reconciliation, and have none other witnesses but your own affirmation.” “I know,” said he, “that he will offer combat to me; but that would not be suffered in France: I will do that which I have purposed.” And so he departed, and took with him to his lodging the said Alexander Guthrie and Mr. Richard Strang. Thence was dated and written a letter to the Queen’s Majesty, according to the former purpose, which letter was directed with all diligence to the Queen’s Majesty, who was then in Falkland.

The Earl himself rode afterwards to Kinneil, to his father, the Duke’s Grace. How he was treated, we have but the common bruit; but thence he wrote another letter with his own hand, in cipher, to the Earl of Moray, complaining of his rigorous handling and treatment by his own father, and by his friends; and affirming, farther, that he feared his life, in case he gat not speedy rescue. He did not rest there, but brake the chamber wherein he was put, and with great pain passed to Stirling, and thence he was convoyed to the Hallyards. There he was kept until the Earl of Moray came to him, and convoyed him to the Queen, who was then in Falkland. She was sufficiently instructed concerning the whole matter; and, upon suspicion conceived, had ordered the apprehension of Master Gavin Hamilton and the Earl Bothwell. They, knowing nothing of what had passed, came to Falkland, and this augmented the former suspicion.

The letters of John Knox, however, ensured that all things were done the more circumspectly; for he did plainly forewarn the Earl of Moray that he espied the Earl of Arran to be stricken with frenzy, and therefore would not have too great credit given to his words and inventions. And so it came to pass; for within few days the Earl’s sickness increased; he devised of wondrous signs that he saw in the heaven; and, finally, he behaved himself in all things so foolishly that his frenzy could not be hid. Nevertheless, the Earl Bothwell and the Abbot of Kilwinning were detained in the Castle of St. Andrews, and convened before the Council, with the Earl of Arran, who ever stood firm in alleging that the Earl Bothwell proponed to him such things as he had advertised the Queen’s Grace of. He stiffly denied that his father, the said Abbot, or his friends, knew anything of the matter, or that they intended any violence against him; and alleged that he had been enchanted so to think and write. Thereat the Queen, highly offended, committed him to prison with the other two, first in the Castle of St. Andrews, and thereafter in the Castle of Edinburgh…

Things put in order in Fife, the Queen returned to Edinburgh, and then began dancing to grow hot; for her friends began to triumph in France. Sure information of this came to the ears of John Knox, for there were some that showed to him the state of things from time to time. He was assured that the Queen had danced excessively until after midnight, because she had received letters informing her that persecution was renewed in France, and that her uncles were beginning to stir their tail, and to trouble the whole realm of France. Upon occasion of this text, “And now understand, O ye kings, and be learned, ye that judge the earth,” he began to tax the ignorance, the vanity, and the despite of princes against all virtue, and against all those in whom hatred of vice and love of virtue appeared.

Report of this sermon was made unto the Queen, and John Knox was sent for. Mr. Alexander Cockburn, of Ormiston, who had formerly been his scholar, and then was very familiar with him, was the messenger, and gave him some knowledge both of the report and of the reporters. The Queen was in her bedchamber, and with her, besides the ladies and the common servants, were the Lord James, the Earl Morton, Secretary Lethington, and some of the guard that had made the report. He was called, and accused of having spoken irreverently of the Queen, of travailing to bring her into the hatred and contempt of the people, and of exceeding the bounds of his text. Upon these three heads, the Queen herself made a long harangue or oration; to which the said John answered as follows:—

“Madam, this is oftentimes the just recompense which God giveth to the stubborn of the world. Because they will not hear God speaking for the comfort of the penitent, and the amendment of the wicked, they are oft compelled to hear the false report of others to their greater displeasure. I doubt not but that it came to the ears of proud Herod that our Master Christ Jesus called him fox; but they told him not how odious a thing it was before God to murder an innocent, as he had lately done before, causing John the Baptist to be beheaded, to reward the dancing of a harlot’s daughter. Madam, if the reporters of my words had been honest men, they would have reported my words, and the circumstances of the same. But, because they would have credit in Court, and lack virtue worthy thereof, they must have somewhat to please your Majesty, if it were but flattery and lies. If your Grace take any pleasure in such persons, it will turn to your everlasting displeasure. Madam, had your own ears heard the whole matter that I entreated, ye could not justly have been offended with anything that I spake, if there be in you any sparkle of the Spirit of God, yea, of honesty or wisdom. Ye have heard their report; may it please your Grace to hear myself rehearse the sermon, as nearly as memory will serve.

“My text, Madam, was this, ‘And now, O kings, understand; be learned, ye judges of the earth.’ After, Madam, I had declared the dignity of kings and rulers, the honour in which God has placed them, and the obedience that is due unto them, as God’s lieutenants, I demanded this: But, O alas! what account shall the most part of princes make before that Supreme Judge, whose throne and authority so manifestly and shamefully they abuse? This day is most true the complaint of Solomon that violence and oppression do occupy the throne of God here in this earth: murderers, bloodthirsty men, oppressors, and malefactors dare be bold to present themselves before kings and princes, and the poor saints of God are banished and exiled. What shall we say, but that the Devil hath taken possession of the throne of God, which ought to be fearful to all wicked doers, and a refuge to the innocent oppressed. How can it be otherwise? Princes will not understand; they will not be taught as God commands them. God’s law they despise, His statutes and holy ordinances they will not understand; they are more exercised in fiddling and flinging than in reading or hearing God’s most blessed Word; and fiddlers and flatterers, who commonly corrupt youth, are more precious in their eyes than are men of wisdom and gravity, who might, by wholesome admonition, beat down in them some part of that vanity and pride wherein all are born, but in princes taketh deep root and strength by wicked education.

“Of dancing, Madam, I said that, albeit in the Scriptures I found no praise of it, and in profane writers that it is termed the gesture rather of those that are mad and in frenzy than of sober men; yet do I not utterly condemn it, providing that two vices be avoided. Firstly, the principal vocation of those that use that exercise must not be neglected for the pleasure of dancing; secondly, they may not dance, as did the Philistines their fathers, for the pleasure that they take in the displeasure of God’s people. If they do either, they shall receive the reward of dancers, and that will be drink in hell, unless they speedily repent, and so shall God turn their mirth into sudden sorrow. God will not always afflict His people, nor will He always wink at the tyranny of tyrants. If any man, Madam, will say that I spake more, let him presently accuse me; for I think I have not only touched the sum, but the very words as I spake them.” Many that stood by bare witness with him that he had recited the very words that he had spoken publicly.

The Queen looked about to some of the reporters, and said, “Your words are sharp enough as ye have spoken them; but yet they were told to me in another manner. I know that my uncles and ye are not of one religion, and therefore I cannot blame you, albeit you have no good opinion of them. But if ye hear anything of myself that mislikes you, come to myself and tell me, and I shall hear you.”

“Madam,” quoth he, “I am assured that your uncles are enemies to God, and unto His Son, Jesus Christ; and that, for maintenance of their own pomp and worldly glory, they spare not to spill the blood of many innocents. I am therefore assured that their enterprises shall have no better success than have had others that before them have done what they do now. But as to your own personage, Madam, I would be glad to do all that I could for your Grace’s contentment, provided that I exceed not the bounds of my vocation. I am called, Madam, to a public function within the Kirk of God, and am appointed by God to rebuke the sins and vices of all. I am not appointed to come to every man in particular to show him his offence; that labour were infinite. If your Grace will please to frequent the public sermons, I doubt not but that ye shall fully understand both what I like and mislike, as well in your Majesty as in all others. Or, if your Grace will assign unto me a certain day and hour when it will please you to hear the form and substance of doctrine which is proponed in public to the churches of this realm, I will most gladly await upon your Grace’s pleasure, time, and place. But to wait upon your chamber door, or elsewhere, and then to have no farther liberty than to whisper my mind in your Grace’s ear, or to tell you what others think and speak of you, neither will my conscience nor the vocation whereto God hath called me suffer it. For, albeit at your Grace’s commandment I am here now, I cannot tell what other men shall judge of me, when they learn that at this time of day I am absent from my book, and waiting upon the Court.”

“You will not always,” said she, “be at your book,” and so turned her back. John Knox departed with a reasonably merry countenance. Some Papists, offended at this, said, “He is not afraid.” Hearing this, he answered, “Why should the pleasing face of a gentlewoman affright me? I have looked in the faces of many angry men, and yet have not been afraid, above measure.” And so left he the Queen and the Court for that time.

In the meantime, the negotiation and credit was great betwixt the Queen of England and our Sovereign: letters, couriers, and posts ran very frequently. There was great bruit of an interview and meeting of the two Queens at York, and some preparations were made for this in both the realms. But it failed upon the part of England, and that by occasion of the troubles moved in France, as was alleged. These caused the Queen and her Council to remain in the south parts of England, to avoid inconvenience.

That Summer, there came an Ambassador from the King of Sweden, requiring marriage of our Sovereign to his master the King. His entertainment was honourable; but our Queen liked not his petition. Such a man was too base for her estate; had not she been great Queen of France? Fie, of Sweden! What is it? But happy was the man that was forsaken of such an one. And yet she did not refuse one who was far inferior to a virtuous king.

The Earl of Moray made a privy raid to Hawick upon the fair-day, and apprehended fifty thieves; of this number seventeen were drowned; others were executed in Jedburgh. The principals were brought to Edinburgh, and there suffered, according to their merits, upon the Borough Muir. The Queen was not content with the prosperity and good success that God gave to the Earl of Moray in all his enterprises, for she hated his upright dealing, and the image of God which did evidently appear in him; but at that time she could not well have been served without him.

At the Assembly of the Kirk at Midsummer, on the 29th of June 1562, many notable points were discussed concerning good order in the Church; for the Papists and the idolatry of the Queen began to trouble the former good orders… The tenor of the supplication read in open audience, and approved by the whole Assembly to be presented to the Queen’s Majesty, was this:—

“Having in mind that fearful sentence, pronounced by the Eternal God against the watchmen that see the sword of God’s punishment approach, and do not in plain words forewarn the people, yea, the princes and rulers, that they may repent, we cannot but signify unto your Highness, and unto your Council, that the state of this realm is such, at this present time, that unless redress and remedy be shortly provided, God’s hand cannot long spare in His anger, to strike the head and the tail; the inobedient prince and sinful people. For, as God is unchangeable and true, so must He punish in these our days the grievous sins that we read He has punished in all ages, after He has long called for repentance, and none is shown.

“That your Grace and Council may understand what be the things we desire to be reformed, we will begin at that which we assuredly know to be the fountain and spring of all other evils that now abound in this realm, to wit, that idol and bastard service of God, the Mass; the fountain, we call it, of all impiety, not only because many take boldness to sin by reason of the opinion which they have conceived of that idol, to wit, that by the virtue of it, they get remission of their sins; but also that, under colour of the Mass, whores, adulterers, drunkards, blasphemers of God and of His holy Word and Sacraments, and such other manifest malefactors, are maintained and defended: for, let any Mass-sayer, or earnest maintainer thereof, be deprehended in any of the forenamed crimes, no execution can be had, for all is said to be done in hatred of his religion; and so are wicked men permitted to live wickedly, cloaked and protected by that odious idol. But, supposing the Mass were occasion of no such evils, yet in itself it is so odious in God’s presence that we cannot cease, with all instance, to desire the removing of the same, as well from yourself as from all others within this realm, taking heaven and earth, yea, and your own conscience, to record that the obstinate maintenance of that idol shall in the end be to you destruction of soul and body.

“If your Majesty demand why we are more earnest now than we have been heretofore; we answer (our former silence nowise excused) that it is because we find ourselves frustrated of our hope and expectation; which was that, in process of time, your Grace’s heart should have been mollified, so far as to have heard the public doctrine taught within this realm; by which, our farther hope was, God’s Holy Spirit should so have moved your heart, that ye should have suffered your religion, which before God is nothing but abomination and vanity, to have been tried by the true touchstone, the written Word of God; and that your Grace finding it to have no ground or foundation in the same, should have given such glory unto God that ye would have preferred His truth unto your own preconceived vain opinion, of whatever antiquity it has been. Of this we in a part are now discouraged and can no longer keep silence, unless we would make ourselves criminal before God of your blood, perishing in your own iniquities; for we plainly admonish you of the dangers to come.

“The second that we require is punishment of horrible vices, such as are adultery, fornication, open whoredom, blasphemy, and contempt of God, of His Word and of His Sacraments; vices which, in this realm, for lack of punishment, do even now so abound that sin is reputed to be no sin. And, therefore, as we see the present signs of God’s wrath manifestly appear, so do we forewarn that He will strike, before long, if His law be permitted thus manifestly to be contemned, without punishment. If any object, that punishment cannot be commanded to be executed without a Parliament; we answer that the Eternal God in His Parliament has pronounced death to be the punishment for adultery and for blasphemy. If ye put not His acts to execution, seeing that kings are but His lieutenants, having no power to give life where He commands death, He will repute you, and all others that foster vice, patrons of impiety, and He will not fail to punish you for neglecting His judgments.

“Our third request concerneth the poor, who be of three sorts; the poor labourers of the ground; the poor desolate beggars, orphans, widows, and strangers; and the poor ministers of the holy Evangel of Christ Jesus, who are all so cruelly treated by this last pretended order taken for sustentation of ministers, that their latter misery far surmounteth the former. For now the poor labourers of the ground are so oppressed by the cruelty of those that pay their Third, that they for the most part advance upon the poor, whatsoever they pay to the Queen, or to any other. As for the very indigent and poor, to whom God commands a sustentation to be provided from the teinds, they are so despised that it is a wonder that the sun giveth light and heat to the earth, where God’s name is so frequently called upon, and no mercy, according to His commandment, is shown to His creatures. And also for the ministers, their livings are so appointed that the most part shall live but a beggar’s life. And all cometh of impiety, that the idle bellies of Christ’s enemies must be fed with their former delicacies.

“We dare not conceal from your Grace and Honours the burden of our conscience, which is this, that neither by the law of God, nor by any just law of man, is anything due to them who now most cruelly do exact of the poor and rich the Two-part of their benefices, as they call it.

“Therefore we most humbly require that some other order may be taken with them, and that they be not set up again to empire above the people of God, or above any subject within this realm. For we fear that such usurpation to their former estate shall be in the end neither pleasing to themselves, nor profitable to them that would place them in that tyranny. If any think that a competent living should be assigned to them, we repugn not, provided that the labourers of the ground be not oppressed, the poor be not utterly neglected, the ministers of the Word be not so sharply treated as they now are, and, finally, that those idle bellies, who by law can crave nothing, shall confess that they receive their sustentation, not as a matter of debt, but as of benevolence. Our humble request is, therefore, that some speedy order may be taken that the poor labourers may find some relief, and that in every parish some portion of the teinds may be assigned to the sustentation of the poor within the same; and likewise that some public relief may be provided for the poor within burghs; that collectors may be appointed to gather, and that sharp account may be taken, as well of their receipts as of their disbursements. The farther consideration to be had towards our ministers, we in some part remit to your wisdoms, and to their particular complaints.

“Our fourth petition is for the manses, yards, and glebes, justly appertaining to the ministers, without which it is impossible for them quietly to serve their charges; and therefore we desire order to be taken therein without delay.

“Our fifth concerneth the inobedience of certain wicked persons, who not only trouble, and have troubled ministers in their functions, but also disobey the superintendents in their visitation. Of this we humbly crave remedy; not so much for any fear that we and our ministers have of the Papists, but for the love that we bear to the common tranquillity. For we cannot hide from your Majesty and Council that, if the Papists think to triumph where they may, and to do what they list, where there is not a party able to resist them, some will think that they must begin where they left off. Heretofore they have borne all things patiently, in hope that laws should have bridled the wicked. If they be frustrated in this, albeit nothing is more odious to them than tumults and domestic discord, men will attempt the uttermost, before they behold with their own eyes the demolition of that House of God, which with travail and danger God hath within this realm erected by them.

“Lastly, we desire that such as have received remission of their Third be compelled to sustain the ministry within their bounds, else we forewarn your Grace and Council that we fear that the people will retain the whole in their hands, until such time as their ministry shall be sufficiently provided. We farther desire that the kirks be repaired according to an Act set forth by the Lords of Secret Council, before your Majesty’s arrival in this country; that judges be appointed to hear the causes of divorcement, for the Kirk can no longer sustain that burden, especially since there is no punishment for the offenders; that sayers and hearers of Mass, profaners of the Sacraments, such as have entered into benefices by the Pope’s bulls, and other such transgressors of the law made at your Grace’s arrival within this realm, may be severely punished; else men will think that there is no truth meant in the making of such laws.

“Farther, we most humbly desire of your Grace and honourable Council a resolute answer to every one of the heads forewritten, that, the same being known, we may somewhat satisfy such as are grievously offended at manifest iniquity now maintained, at oppression under pretext of law done against the poor, and at the rebellious disobedience of many wicked persons against God’s Word and holy ordinance.

“God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, so rule your hearts, and direct your Grace and Council’s judgments by the dyttament204 and illumination of His Holy Spirit, that ye may so answer that your consciences may be absolved in the presence of that righteous Judge, the Lord Jesus; and then we doubt not but that ye yourselves shall find felicity, and this poor realm, that long has been oppressed by wicked men, shall enjoy tranquillity and rest, with the true knowledge of God.”

These things were read in public Assembly, and approved by all. Some wished that more sharpness had been used, because the time so craved. But the monsieurs of the Court, and Secretary Lethington above others, could not abide such hard speaking; “For who ever saw it written,” said he, “to a prince, that God would strike the head and the tail, or that, if Papists did what they should list, men would begin where they had left off?” Above all others, it was most offensive that the Queen was accused as if she would raise up Papists and Papistry again. To put that into the people’s head was no less than treason; for oaths durst be made that she never meant such a thing.

It was answered that the Prophet Isaiah used such manner of speaking; and there was no doubt but that he was well acquainted in the Court, for it was supposed that he was of the King’s stock. Howsoever it was, his words make manifest that he spake to the Court and courtiers, to judges, ladies, princes and priests. And yet, says he, “The Lord shall cut away the head and the tail,” etc. “And so,” said the first writer, “I find that such a phrase was used once before. If it offend you that we say, ‘Men must begin where they left off,’ in case the Papists do as they do; we would desire you to teach us, not so much how we shall speak, but rather what we shall do when our ministers are stricken, our superintendents are disobeyed, and a plain rebellion is decreed against all good order.”

“Complain,” said Lethington. “Whom to?” said the other. “To the Queen’s Majesty,” said he. “How long shall we do so?” quoth the whole. “Till ye get remedy,” said the Justice Clerk: “give me their names, and I shall give you letters.” “If the sheep,” said one, “shall complain to the wolf that the wolves and whelps have devoured their lambs, the complainer may stand in danger; but the offender, we fear, shall have liberty to hunt after his prey.” “Such comparisons,” said Lethington, “are very unsavoury; for I am assured that the Queen will neither erect nor yet maintain Papistry.” “Let your assurance,” said another, “serve yourself; it cannot assure us; for her manifest proceedings speak the contrary.”

After such taunting reasoning on both sides, the multitude concluded that the supplication, as it was conceived, should be presented; unless the Secretary would form one more agreeable to the present necessity. He promised to keep the substance of ours, but said he would use other terms, and ask things in a more genteel manner. The first writer answered that he served the Kirk at their commandment, and was content that with his dictament men should use the liberty that best pleased them, provided that he was not compelled to subscribe to the flattery of such as regarded the persons of men and women more than the simple truth of God. So this former supplication was given to be reformed as Lethington’s wisdom thought best. And in very deed he so framed it that, when it was delivered by the Superintendents of Lothian and Fife, and when the Queen had read somewhat of it, she said, “Here are many fair words: I cannot tell what the hearts are.” For our painted oratory, we were termed the next name to flatterers and dissemblers; but, for that session, the Kirk received no other answer…

The interview and meeting of the two Queens being delayed until the next year, our Sovereign took purpose to visit the north, and departed from Stirling in the month of August. Whether there was any secret paction and confederacy betwixt the Papists in the south and the Earl of Huntly and his Papists in the north; or, to speak more plainly, betwixt the Queen herself and Huntly, we cannot certainly say. But the suspicions were wondrously vehement that there was no good-will borne to the Earl of Moray, nor yet to such as depended upon him at that time. The history we shall faithfully declare, and leave the judgment to the reader…

The Queen and Court remained at Aberdeen certain days, to deliberate upon the affairs of the country; and some began to smell that the Earl of Huntly was under gathering.205 While things were so working in the north, the Earl Bothwell brake his ward, and came forth from the Castle of Edinburgh on the 28th of August. Some say that he broke the stanchions of the window; others whispered that he got easy passage by the gates. One thing is certain; the Queen was little offended at his escaping. The said Earl showed himself not very much afraid, for his common residence was in Lothian. The Archbishop of St. Andrews and Abbot of Crossraguel kept secret convention at that same time in Paisley, and to them resorted divers Papists; yea, the said Archbishop spake with the Duke, and unto him came also the Lord Gordon from the Earl of Huntly, requiring him “to put to his hands in the south, as he should do in the north; and Knox’s crying or preaching should not stay that purpose.” The Archbishop, let him be never so close, could not altogether hide his mind, but at his own table said, “The Queen is gone into the north, belike to seek disobedience: she may perchance find the thing that she seeks.” It was constantly affirmed that the Earl Bothwell and the said Lord Gordon spake together, but of their purpose we heard no mention.

The same year, and at that instant time, Commissioners were appointed by the General Assembly. To Carrick and Cunningham, Master George Hay was sent, and he, for the space of a month, preached with great fruit in all the churches of Carrick. To Kyle, and to the parts of Galloway, John Knox was appointed. Besides showing the doctrine of the Evangel to the common people, John Knox forewarned some of the nobility and Barons of the dangers that he feared, and that were apparently to follow shortly; and he exhorted them to put themselves in order, so that they might be able to serve the authority, and yet not to suffer the enemies of God’s truth to have the upper hand. Thereupon, a great part of the Barons and Gentlemen of Kyle and Cunningham and Carrick, professing the true doctrine of the Evangel, assembled at Ayr.

After exhortations made and conference held, these subscribed a bond to maintain and assist the preaching of God’s holy Evangel, then, of His mere mercy, offered to this realm; and also the ministers thereof against all persons, power, and authority, that would oppose themselves to the doctrine proponed, and by them received. And farther, with the same solemnity, it was protested and promised, that every one should assist others, yea, the whole body of the Protestants within the realm, in all lawful and just actions, against all persons; so that whosoever should hurt, molest, or trouble any of our body, should be reputed enemy to the whole, unless the offender were content to submit himself to the judgment of the Kirk, as established amongst us…

These things done at Ayr, the said John passed to Nithsdale and Galloway, and there, in conference with the Master of Maxwell, a man of great judgment and experience, he communicated such things as he feared. Upon his suggestion, the Master wrote to the Earl Bothwell, enjoining him to behave himself as became a faithful subject, and to keep good quietness in the parts committed to his charge, for so would the crime of his breaking ward be the more easily pardoned. John Knox wrote to the Duke’s Grace, and earnestly exhorted him neither to give ear to the Archbishop, his bastard brother, nor yet to the persuasion of the Earl of Huntly; for if he did, he assured him, he and his house should come to a sudden ruin.

By such means the south parts were kept in reasonable quietness, during the time that the troubles were in brewing in the north. And yet the Archbishop and the Abbot of Crossraguel did what in them lay to raise some trouble. Besides the fearful bruits that they sparsed abroad, sometimes that the Queen was taken; sometimes that the Earl of Moray and all his band were slain; and sometimes that the Queen had given herself to the Earl of Huntly,—besides such bruits, the Archbishop, to disturb the country of Kyle, where quietness was greatest, raised the Crawfords against the Reids for payment of the Archbishop’s Pasch fines; but that was stayed by the labours of indifferent men, who favoured peace.

The Abbot of Crossraguel requested an opportunity to dispute with John Knox as to the maintenance of the Mass. This was granted to him, and debate was held in Maybole during three days. The Abbot had the advantage that he required; to wit, he took upon him to prove that Melchisedec offered bread and wine to God, and this was the ground upon which was founded the argument that the Mass was a sacrifice, etc. But, in the travail of three days, no proof could be produced for Melchisedec’s oblation, as in the disputation (which is to be had in print) may clearly appear. The Papists constantly looked for a wolter,206 and therefore made some brag of reasoning. The Abbot further presented himself in the pulpit, but the voice of Master George Hay so affrighted him, that, after one attempt, he wearied of that exercise.

After the Queen was somewhat satisfied of hunting and other pastime, she came to Aberdeen. There the Earl of Huntly and his Lady met her with no small train. He remained in Court, was supposed to have the greatest credit, departed with the Queen to Buchan, and met her again at Rothiemay, expecting that she would accompany him to Strathbogie. But, in the journey, certain word came to her that John Gordon207 had broken promise in not re-entering into ward; for his father the Earl had promised that he should again enter within the Castle of Stirling, and there abide the Queen’s pleasure. But, with or without his father’s knowledge and consent, he refused to enter; and this so offended the Queen that she would not go to Strathbogie, but passed through Strathisla to Inverness, where the Castle was denied to her. The captain had command to keep it, and looked for relief which John of Gordon had promised; but, being frustrated in this, the Castle was surrendered. The captain, named Gordon, was executed; the rest were condemned, and the hands of some were bound, but these escaped. This was the beginning of further trouble; for the Earl of Huntly was offended, and began to assemble his folks, sparing not to say that he would be revenged.208…

Upon the morrow after the discomfiture, the Lady Forbes, a woman both wise and fearing God, came amongst many others to visit the corpse of the said Earl; and seeing him lie upon the cold stones, having only upon him a doublet of canvas, a pair of Scottish grey hose, and a covering of arras-work, she said, “What stability shall we judge to be in this world: there lieth he that yesterday morning was holden the wisest, the richest, and a man of greatest power within Scotland.” In very deed, she lied not; for, in man’s opinion, under a prince, there was not such a one produced in this realm these three hundred years. But felicity and worldly wisdom so blinded him that in the end he perished in them, as shall all those that despise God and trust in themselves…

The Earl of Moray sent word of the marvellous victory to the Queen, and humbly prayed her to show obedience to God and publicly to convene with them, to give thanks to God for His notable deliverance. She gloomed at the messenger and at the request, and scarcely would give a good word or blithe countenance to any that she knew to be earnest favourers of the Earl Moray, whose prosperity was, and yet is, to her boldened heart, a very venom against him for his godliness and upright plainness. For many days she bare no better countenance; and thereby it might have been evidently espied that she rejoiced not greatly in the success of that matter; and, albeit she caused John Gordon and divers others to be executed, it was the destruction of others that she sought.

In the meantime, there was much trouble in France; and the intelligence and outward familiarity betwixt the two Queens was great. Lethington was directed with large commission both to the Queen of England and to the Guisians. The marriage of our Queen was in every man’s mouth. Some would have Spain; some the Emperor’s brother; some Lord Robert Dudley; some the Duke de Nemours; and some unhappily guessed at the Lord Darnley. We know not what Lethington’s credit was; but, shortly after, there began to be much talk of the Earl of Lennox, and of his son, the Lord Darnley. It was said that Lethington spake with the Lady Margaret Douglas, and that Robert Melvin received a horse, for the Secretary’s use, from the Earl of Lennox or from his wife. Howsoever it was, Master Fowler, servant to the said Earl, came with letters to the Queen’s Grace, and licence was permitted to the Earl of Lennox to come to Scotland, to travail in his lawful business. On the day that the licence was granted, the Secretary said, “This day have I incurred the deadly hatred of all the Hamiltons within Scotland, and have done them no less displeasure than had I cutted their throats.”

The Earl Bothwell, who had broken ward, fearing apprehension, prepared to pass to France; but, by storm of weather, he was driven into England, where he was stayed, and the Queen of England offered to surrender him. But our Queen answered that he was no rebel, and requested that he should have liberty to pass whither it pleased him. In this, Lethington helped not a little; for he travailed to have friends in every faction of the Court. Thus the said Earl obtained licence to pass to France.

The Court remained for the most part in Edinburgh, during the winter after the death of the Earl of Huntly. The preachers were wondrously vehement in reprehension of all manner of vice, which then began to abound; and especially avarice, oppression of the poor, excess, riotous cheer, banqueting, immoderate dancing, and the whoredom that ensues. The courtiers began to storm, and to pick quarrels against the preachers, alleging that all their preaching was turned to railing.

One of them gave answer as follows: “It comes to our ears that we are called railers. Albeit we wonder, we are not ashamed. The most worthy servants of God that before us have travailed in this vocation have so been styled. But the same God, who from the beginning has punished the contempt of His Word, and has poured forth His vengeance upon such proud mockers, shall not spare you; yea, He shall not spare you before the eyes of this same wicked generation, for whose pleasure ye despise all wholesome admonitions.

“Have ye not seen a greater than any of you sitting where presently ye sit, pick his nails and pull down his bonnet over his eyes, when idolatry, witchcraft, murder, oppression, and such vices were rebuked? Was not his common talk, ‘When these knaves have railed their fill, will they then hold their peace?’ Have ye not heard it affirmed to his own face that God should revenge his blasphemy, even in the eyes of such as were witnesses to his iniquity? Then was the Earl of Huntly accused by you as the maintainer of idolatry, and the only hinderer of all good order. Him has God punished, even according to the threatenings that his and your ears heard; and by your hands hath God executed His judgments.

“But what amendment in any case can be espied in you? Idolatry was never in greater rest: virtue and virtuous men were never in more contempt: vice was never more bold, never did it less fear punishment. And yet, who guides the Queen and Court? Who but the Protestants? O horrible slanderers of God, and of His holy Evangel. Better it were for you plainly to renounce Christ Jesus, than thus to expose His blessed Evangel to mockage. If God do not punish you, so that this same age shall see and behold your punishment, the Spirit of righteous judgment guides me not.”…

At the General Assembly of the Church, holden the twenty-fifth of December, the year of God 1562, great complaints were made that churches lacked ministers; that ministers lacked their stipends; that wicked men were permitted to be schoolmasters, and so to infect the youth. One, Master Robert Cumin, schoolmaster in Arbroath, was complained upon by the Laird of Dun, and sentence was pronounced against him. It was farther complained that idolatry was erected in divers parts of the realm; and some thought that new supplication for redress should be presented to the Queen’s Grace. Others demanded, What answer was received on the former occasion? The Superintendent of Lothian confessed the deliverance of it. “But,” said he, “I received no answer.” It was answered on behalf of the Queen—for her supporters were ever there—that it was well known to the whole realm what troubles had occurred since the last Assembly; and, therefore, that they should not wonder that the Queen had not answered: but they doubted not but that order would be taken betwixt that and the Parliament which was appointed for May, and all men should have occasion to stand content. This satisfied the whole Assembly for that time. And this was the practice of the Queen and of her Council to drive time with fair words…

The Papists, at Easter, 1563, had erected that idol, the Mass, in divers parts of the realm; amongst these being the Archbishop of St. Andrews, the Prior of Whithorn, with divers others of their faction… The brethren, universally offended, and espying that the Queen did but mock them by her proclamations, determined to put to their own hands, and to punish for example to others. So some priests in the West-land were apprehended, and intimation was made by the brethren to others, as to the Abbot of Crossraguel, the Parson of Sanquhar, and such, that they should not proceed by complaint to Queen or Council, but should execute the punishment that God, in His Law, had appointed to idolaters, by such means as they might, wherever these should be apprehended.

The Queen stormed at such freedom of speaking, but she could not amend it; for the spirit of God, of boldness, and of wisdom, had not then left the most part of those whom God had used as instruments in the beginning. They were of one mind to maintain the truth of God, and to suppress idolatry. Particularities had not divided them; and therefore could not the Devil, working in the Queen and Papists, then do what he would.

The Queen began to invent a new craft. She sent for John Knox to come to her at Lochleven. She travailed with him earnestly for two hours before her supper, seeking that he would be the instrument to persuade the people, and principally the gentlemen of the West, not to put hands to punish men for conducting themselves in their religion as pleased them. The other, perceiving her craft, said that if her Grace would punish the malefactors according to the laws, he could promise quietness upon the part of all them that professed the Lord Jesus within Scotland. But, if her Majesty thought to delude the laws, he said he feared that some would let the Papists understand that they should not be suffered to offend God’s Majesty so manifestly, without punishment.

“Will ye,” quoth she, “allow that they shall take my sword in their hand?”

“The sword of justice,” quoth he, “Madam, is God’s, and is given to princes and rulers for an end. If they transgress this, sparing the wicked, and oppressing innocents, they that, in the fear of God, execute judgment where God has commanded, do not offend God, although kings forbear; nor do those sin that bridle kings from striking innocent men in their rage. The examples are evident; Samuel feared not to slay Agag, the fat and delicate king of Amalek, whom King Saul had saved… And so, Madam, your Grace may see that others than chief magistrates may lawfully punish, and have punished the vice and crimes that God commands to be punished. In the present case, I would earnestly pray your Majesty to take good advisement, and that your Grace should let the Papists understand that their attempts will not be suffered to go unpunished. For, by Act of Parliament, power is given to all judges to search for Mass-mongers, or the hearers of the same, within their own bounds, and to punish them according to the law. It shall therefore be profitable to your Majesty to consider what is the thing your Grace’s subjects look to receive of your Majesty, and what it is that ye ought to do to them by mutual contract. They are only bound to obey you in God. Ye are bound to keep laws for them. Ye crave of them service; they crave of you protection and defence against wicked doers. Now, Madam, if ye shall deny your duty to those who especially crave that ye shall punish malefactors, think ye to receive full obedience of them? I fear, Madam, ye shall not.”

Herewith the Queen, being somewhat offended, passed to her supper. John Knox left her, informed the Earl of Moray of the whole reasoning, and departed, of final purpose to return to Edinburgh, without any further communication with the Queen.

But before sunrise, upon the morrow, two messengers were directed to him, commanding him not to depart until he spake with the Queen’s Majesty. This he did, meeting her at the hawking be-west Kinross. Whether it was the night’s sleep or a deep dissimulation locked in her breast that made her forget her former anger, wise men may doubt; but concerning that she never moved word, and began divers other purposes, such as the offering of a ring to her by the Lord Ruthven.

Queen. I cannot love Lord Ruthven, for I know him to use enchantment, and yet is he one of my Privy Council.

Knox. Whom blames your Grace for that?

Queen. Lethington was the whole cause.

Knox. That man is absent for the present, Madam; and, therefore, I will say nothing on that subject.

Queen. I understand that ye are appointed to go to Dumfries, for the election of a Superintendent to be established in these countries.

Knox. Yes, those quarters have great need, and some of the Gentlemen so require.

Queen. But I hear that the Bishop of Athens would be Superintendent.

Knox. He is one, Madam, that is put in election.

Queen. If ye knew him as well as I do, ye would never promote him to that office, nor yet to any other within your Kirk.

Knox. What he has been, Madam, I neither know, nor yet will I inquire. In time of darkness, what could we do but grope and go wrong even as darkness carried us? If he fear not God now, he deceives many more than me. And yet, Madam, I am assured that God will not suffer His Church to be so far deceived as that an unworthy man shall be elected, where free election is, and the Spirit of God is earnestly called upon to decide betwixt the two.

Queen. Well, do as ye will, but that man is a dangerous man.

Therein the Queen was not deceived; for he had corrupted most part of the Gentlemen, not only to nominate him, but also to elect him. This perceived, the said John, Commissioner, delayed the election, and left Mr. Robert Pont (who was put in election with the foresaid Bishop) with the Master of Maxwell, that his doctrine and conversation might be the better tried by those that had not known him before. So the Bishop was frustrated of his purpose, for that time. Yet was he, at that time, the man that was most familiar with the said John, in his house and at table. When the Queen had talked long with John Knox, he being oft willing to take his leave, she said, “I have to open unto you one of the greatest matters that have touched me since I came to this realm, and I must have your help in it.” Then she began to make a long discourse concerning her sister, the Lady Argyll, how that she was not so circumspect in all things as she wished her to be.

Queen. Yet, my Lord, her husband, whom I love, treats her not in many things so honestly and so godly, as I think ye yourself would require.

Knox. Madam, I have been troubled with that matter before, and once I put such an end to it, before your Grace’s arrival, that both she and her friends seemed fully to stand content. She herself promised before her friends that she should never complain to creature until I should first understand their controversy by her own mouth or an assured messenger. I have heard nothing from her; and, therefore, I think there is nothing but concord.

Queen. Well, it is worse than ye believe. Do this much for my sake, as once again to put them at unity. If she behave not herself as she ought to do, she shall find no favours of me. But let not my Lord know in anywise what I have requested of you in this matter; for I would be very sorry to offend him in that or any other thing. And now, as touching our reasoning yesternight, I promise to do as ye required. I shall cause all offenders to be summoned, and ye shall know that I shall minister justice.

Knox. I am assured, then, that ye shall please God, and enjoy rest and tranquillity within your realm; and that is more profitable to your Majesty than all the Pope’s power can be.

And thus they parted.

This conference we have inserted to let the world see how deeply Mary, Queen of Scotland, can dissemble; and how she could cause men to think that she bare no indignation for any controversy in religion, while in her heart there was nothing but venom and destruction, as did appear shortly after.

John Knox departed, and prepared himself for his journey to Dumfries; and from Glasgow, according to the Queen’s commandment, he wrote to the Earl of Argyll… This letter was not well accepted by the said Earl; and yet he uttered no part of his displeasure in public, but contrarily showed himself most familiar with the said John. He kept the diet at which the bishop and the rest of the Papists were accused, and sat in judgment himself.

The summonses were directed against the Massmongers with expedition, and in the straitest form. The nineteenth day of May was appointed, a day only before the Parliament. Of the Pope’s knights there compeared the Archbishop of St. Andrews, the Prior of Whithorn, the Parson of Sanquhar, William Hamilton of Cammiskeyth, John Gordon of Barskeocht, with divers others. The Protestants convened to crave for justice. The Queen asked counsel of the Bishop of Ross, and of the old Laird of Lethington (for the younger was absent, and so the Protestants had the fewer unfriends), and they affirmed that she must see her laws kept, or else she would get no obedience. So preparation was made for their accusations. The Archbishop, with his band of the exempted sort, made it nice209 to enter before the Earl of Argyll, who sat in judgment; but at last he was compelled to enter within the bar. A merry man who now sleeps in the Lord, Robert Norwell, instead of the Bishop’s cross, bare before him a steel hammer. The Archbishop and his band were not a little offended at this, because the bishops’ privileges were not then current in Scotland, which day God grant our posterity may see of longer continuance than we possessed it. The Archbishop and his fellows, after much ado, and long drift of time, came within the Queen’s will, and were committed to ward, some to one place, some to another. The Lady Erskine, a sweet morsel for the Devil’s mouth, got the bishops for her part.

All this was done in a most deep craft, to abuse the simplicity of the Protestants, so that they should not press the Queen with any other thing concerning matter of religion at that Parliament, which began within two days thereafter. She obtained of the Protestants whatsoever she desired; for thus reasoned many, “We see what the Queen has done; the like of this was never heard of within the realm: we will bear with the Queen; we doubt not but all shall be well.” Others were of a contrary judgment, and forespake things as they afterwards came to pass. They said that nothing was meant but deceit; and that the Queen, as soon as ever Parliament was past, would set the Papists at freedom. They therefore urged the Nobility not to be abused. But because many had their private commodity to be handled at that Parliament, the common cause was the less regarded.

Such stinking pride of women as was seen at that Parliament was never seen before in Scotland. Three sundry days the Queen rode to the Tolbooth. On the first day she made a painted oration; and there might have been heard among her flatterers, ” Vox Dianae! the voice of a goddess, and not of a woman! God save that sweet face! Was there ever orator that spake so properly and so sweetly!”

All things misliking the preachers, they spake boldly against the 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 melled211 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.

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 bill212 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.

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.

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.”

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 napkins213 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.

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.

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 fard214 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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—

“‘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.

“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.

“It may be, perchance, that persuasion will be made to the contrary, and that ye may be informed either that your assembly is not necessary, or else that it will offend the upper powers. But my good hope is that neither flattery nor fear shall make you so far to decline from Christ Jesus as that, against your public promise and solemn bond, ye will desert your brethren in so just a cause. Albeit there were no great danger, our assembly cannot be unprofitable; many things require consultation, and this cannot be had, unless the wisest and godliest convene. Thus, doubting nothing of the assistance of our God if we uniformly seek His glory, I cease further to trouble you, committing you heartily to the protection of the Eternal.”

The brethren, advertised by this bill, prepared themselves (as many as were thought expedient for every town and province) to keep the day appointed. But by the means of false brethren, the letter came to the hands of the Queen, in this manner. It was read in the town of Ayr, where was present Robert Cunningham, minister of Failford, who then was reputed an earnest professor of the Evangel. He, by means we know not, got the said letter, and sent it with his token to Master Henry Sinclair, then President of the Seat and College of Justice, and styled Bishop of Ross, a perfect hypocrite, and a conjured enemy of Christ Jesus, whom God afterwards struck according to his deservings. The said Mr. Henry was enemy to all that unfeignedly professed the Lord Jesus, but chiefly to John Knox, for the liberty of his tongue; for he had affirmed, as ever still he doth affirm, that a bishop that receives profit, and feeds not the flock by his own labours, is both a thief and a murderer. The said Mr. Henry, thinking himself happy to have found so good occasion to trouble John Knox, whose life he hated, posted the said letter, with his counsel, to the Queen, who then lay in Stirling.

The letter being read, it was concluded by the Council of the Cabinet, that is, by the most secret Council, that it imported treason; and the Queen was not a little rejoiced, for she thought to be revenged for once on her great enemy. It was also concluded that the Nobility should be written for, that the condemnation should have the greater authority. The day appointed was about the midst of December; and this was kept by the whole Council, and by divers others, such as the Master of Maxwell, the old Laird of Lethington, and the said President. In the meantime, the Earl of Moray returned from the north, and to him the Secretary Lethington opened the matter as best pleased him.

The Master of Maxwell gave the said John as it had been a discharge of the familiarity which before was great between them, unless he would agree to satisfy the Queen at her own sight.217

Knox. I know no offence done by me to the Queen’s Majesty, and therefore I wot not what satisfaction to make.

Maxwell. No offence! Have ye not written letters desiring the brethren to convene from all parts to Andrew Armstrong and Patrick Cranston’s day?

Knox. That I grant, but therein I acknowledge no offence done by me.

Maxwell. No offence, to convocate the Queen’s lieges?

Knox. Not for so just a cause: greater things were reputed no offence within these two years past.

Maxwell. The time is now other: then our Sovereign was absent, and now she is present.

Knox. It is neither the absence nor the presence of the Queen that rules my conscience, but God speaking plainly in His Word. What was lawful to me last year is yet lawful, because my God is unchangeable.

Maxwell. Well, I have given you my counsel, do as ye list; but I think ye shall repent it, if ye bow not to the Queen.

Knox. I understand not, Master, what ye mean. I never made myself an adversary to the Queen’s Majesty, except in the head of religion, and therein I think ye will not desire me to bow.

Maxwell. Well, ye are wise enough; but ye will find that men will not bear with you in times to come, as they have done in times by-past.

Knox. If God stand my friend, as I am assured He of His mercy will, so long as I depend upon His promise, and prefer His glory to my life and worldly profit, I little regard how men behave themselves towards me; nor yet know I wherein men have borne with me in times past, unless it be that from my mouth they have heard the Word of God. If, in times to come, they refuse it, my heart will be pierced and for a season will lament; but the incommodity will be their own.

After these words, of which the Laird of Lochinvar was witness, they parted. To this day, the 17th of December, 1571, they have not met in such familiarity as they had formerly.

The bruit of the accusation of John Knox being divulged, Mr. John Spens of Condie, Lord Advocate, a man of gentle nature, and one that professed the doctrine of the Evangel, came, as it were in secret, to John Knox, to inquire the cause of that great bruit. The said John was plain to him in all things, and showed him the double218 of the letter. When he had heard and considered this, he said, “I thank my God. I came to you with a fearful and sorrowful heart, fearing that ye had done such a crime as laws might have punished. That would have been no small trouble to the hearts of all who have received the word of life which ye have preached. I depart greatly rejoiced, as well because I perceive your own comfort, even in the midst of your troubles, as that I clearly understand that ye have committed no such crime as ye are burdened with. Ye will be accused, but God will assist you.” And so he departed.

The Earl of Moray and the Secretary sent for the said John Knox to the Clerk of Register’s house, and began to lament that he had so highly offended the Queen’s Majesty. That, they feared, would come to a great inconvenience to himself, if he were not wisely foreseen. They showed what pains and travail they had taken to mitigate her anger, but they could find nothing but extremity, unless he himself would confess his offence, and put himself in her Grace’s will.

Knox. I praise my God, through Jesus Christ, that I have learned not to cry conjuration and treason at everything that the godless multitude does condemn, or yet to fear the things that they fear. I have the testimony of a good conscience that I have given no occasion to the Queen’s Majesty to be offended with me; for I have done nothing but my duty. So, whatsoever shall ensue, my good hope is that my God will give me patience to bear it. But far be it from me to confess an offence where my conscience witnesseth there is none.

Lethington. How can it be defended? Have ye not made convocation of the Queen’s lieges?

Knox. If I have not a just defence for my act, let me smart for it.

Moray. Let us hear your defences; we would be glad that ye might be found innocent.

Knox. Nay, I am informed by divers, and even by you, my Lord Secretary, that I am already condemned, and my cause prejudged. Therefore I might be reputed a fool, if I would make you privy to my defences.

At those words they seemed both offended; and the Secretary departed. But the Earl of Moray remained still, and would have entered into further discourse with the said John concerning the state of the Court. But he answered, “My Lord, I understand more than I would of the affairs of the Court; and therefore it is not needful that your Lordship trouble with the recounting of it. If you stand in good case, I am content; and if you do not, as I fear ye do not already, or else ye shall not do before long, blame not me. Ye have the counsellors whom ye have chosen; my weak judgment both ye and they despised. I can do nothing but behold the end, which I pray God may be other than my troubled heart feareth.”

Within four days, the said John was called before the Queen and Council betwixt six and seven o’clock at night. The season of the year was the midst of December. The bruit rising in the town that John Knox was sent for by the Queen, the brethren of the Kirk followed in such number that the inner close was full, and all the stairs, even to the chamber door where the Queen and Council sat. These had been reasoning amongst themselves before, but had not fully satisfied the Secretary’s mind. And so the Queen had retired to her cabinet, and the Lords were talking each one with other, as occasion served. Upon the entrance of John Knox, they were commanded to take their places, and did so, sitting as Councillors, one opposite another.

The Duke of Chatelherault, according to his dignity, began the one side. Upon the other side sat the Earl of Argyll, and in order of precedence followed the Earl of Moray, the Earl of Glencairn, the Earl Marischall, the Lord Ruthven, then the common officers, Pittarrow, then Comptroller, the Justice Clerk, and Mr. John Spens of Condie, Lord Advocate; divers others stood by. Removed from the table sat old Lethington, father to the Secretary, Mr. Henry Sinclair, then Bishop of Ross, and Mr. James M’Gill, Clerk Register.

Things thus put in order, the Queen came forth, and, with no little worldly pomp, was placed in the chair, having two faithful supporters, the Master of Maxwell upon the one tor219 and Secretary Lethington on the other tor of the chair. There they waited diligently all the time of that accusation, sometimes the one occupying her ear, sometimes the other. Her pomp lacked one principal point, to wit, womanly gravity; for when she saw John Knox standing at the other end of the table bare-headed, she first smiled, and after gave a gawf of laughter. When her placeboes gave their plaudits, affirming, with like countenance, “This is a good beginning,” she said: “But wot ye whereat I laugh? Yon man gared me greet,220 and grat never tear himself: I will see if I can gar him greet.” At that word the Secretary whispered her in the ear, and she him again, and with that gave him a letter. After inspecting this, he directed his visage and speech to John Knox.

Lethington. The Queen’s Majesty is informed that ye have travailed to raise a tumult of her subjects against her, and for certification thereof, there is presented to her your own letter subscribed in your name. Yet, because her Grace will do nothing without a good advisement, she has convened you before this part of the Nobility, that they may witness betwixt you and her.

Queen. Let him acknowledge his own handwriting, and then shall we judge of the contents of the letter.

So the letter was presented from hand to hand to John Knox, who examined it.

Knox. I gladly acknowledge this to be my handwriting; and also I remember that I indited a letter to the brethren in sundry quarters, in the month of October, giving signification of such things as displeased me. So good opinion have I of the fidelity of the scribes that they would not willingly adulterate my original, albeit I left divers subscribed blanks with them, I acknowledge both handwriting and ditement.221

Lethington. Ye have done more than I would have done.

Knox. Charity is not suspicious.

Queen. Well, well, read your own letter, and then answer to such things as shall be demanded of you.

Knox. I shall do the best I can.

With loud voice he began to read the letter already quoted. After it was read to the end, it was presented again to Mr. John Spens; for the Queen commanded him to accuse, as he afterwards did, but very gently.

Queen. Heard ye ever, my Lords, a more despiteful and treasonable letter?

No man gave answer, and Lethington addressed himself to John Knox.

Lethington. Master Knox, are ye not sorry from your heart, and do you not repent that such a letter has passed your pen, and from you is come to the knowledge of others.

Knox. My Lord Secretary, before I repent I must be taught of my offence.

Lethington. Offence! If there were no more than the convocation of the Queen’s lieges, the offence could not be denied.

Knox. Remember yourself, my Lord. There is a difference betwixt a lawful convocation, and an unlawful. If I have been guilty in this, I have often offended since I came last to Scotland: for what convocation of the brethren has ever been to this day in which my pen served not? Before this, no man laid it to my charge as a crime.

Lethington. Then was then, and now is now. We have no need of such convocations as sometimes we have had.

Knox. The time that has been is even now before my eyes; for I see the poor flock in no less danger than it has been at any time before, except that the Devil has gotten a visor upon his face. Before, he came in with his own face, discovered by open tyranny, seeking the destruction of all that refused idolatry: and then, I think ye will confess, the brethren lawfully assembled themselves for defence of their lives. Now the Devil comes under the cloak of justice, to do that which God would not suffer him to do by strength.

Queen. What is this? Methinks ye trifle with him. Who gave him authority to make convocation of my lieges? Is not that treason?

Lord Ruthven. No, Madam, for he makes convocation of the people to hear prayer and sermon almost daily; and, whatever your Grace or others think thereof, we think it no treason.

Queen. Hold your peace, and let him make answer for himself.

Knox. Madam, I began to reason with the Secretary, whom I take to be a far better dialectician than your Grace is, that all convocations are not unlawful. And now my Lord Ruthven has given the instance. If your Grace will deny this, I shall address myself to the proof.

Queen. I will say nothing against your religion, nor against your convening to your sermons. But what authority have ye to convocate my subjects when ye will, without my commandment?

Knox. I have no pleasure to decline from the former purpose. And yet, Madam, to satisfy your Grace’s two questions, I answer that at my will I never convened four persons in Scotland; but, upon the instructions of the brethren, I have given divers notifications, and great multitudes have assembled. If your Grace complain that this was done without your Grace’s commandment, I answer—So has all that God has blessed within this realm from the beginning of this action. Therefore, Madam, I must be convicted by a just law that I have done against the duty of God’s messenger in writing this letter, before either I be sorry, or yet repent for the doing of it, as my Lord Secretary would persuade me. What I have done, I have done at the commandment of the general Kirk of this realm; and, therefore, I think I have done no wrong.

Queen. Ye shall not escape so. Is it not treason, my Lords, to accuse a prince of cruelty? I think there be Acts of Parliament against such whisperers.

That was granted by many.

Knox. But wherein can I be accused?

Queen. Read this part of your own bill, which began, “These fearful summonses are directed against them, to wit the brethren foresaid, to make, no doubt, preparation upon a few, that a door may be opened to execute cruelty upon a greater multitude.” Lo, what say ye to that?

Many doubted what the said John should answer.

Knox. Is it lawful for me, Madam, to answer for myself? Or shall I be condemned before I be heard?

Queen. Say what ye can, for I think ye have enough ado.

Knox. I will first, then, desire this of your Grace, Madam, and of this most honourable audience, whether your Grace knows not that the obstinate Papists are deadly enemies to all such as profess the Evangel of Jesus Christ, and that they most earnestly desire the extermination of them, and of the true doctrine that is taught within this realm?

The Queen held her peace; but all the Lords, with common voice, said, “God forbid that either the lives of the faithful, or yet the staying of teaching and preaching, stood in the power of the Papists: just experience has told us what cruelty lies in their hearts.”

Knox. I must proceed, then, seeing that I perceive that all will grant that it was a barbarous cruelty to destroy such a multitude as profess the Evangel of Jesus Christ within this realm. This, oftener than once or twice, has been attempted by force, as things done of late days do testify. Disappointed by God and His providence, the Papists have invented more crafty and dangerous practices, to wit, to make the prince party, under colour of law: what they could not do by open force, they hope to perform by crafty deceit. For who thinks, my Lords, that the insatiable cruelty of the Papists within this realm shall end in the murdering of these two brethren now unjustly summoned, and more unjustly to be accused? I think no man of judgment can so esteem, but rather the direct contrary; that is, by this few number they intend to prepare a way to bloody enterprises against the whole. Therefore, Madam, cast up when ye list the Acts of your Parliament. I have offended nothing against them. In my letter, I accuse neither your Grace nor your nature of cruelty. But I affirm yet again that the pestilent Papists, who have inflamed your Grace without cause against those poor men at this present, are the sons of the Devil; and therefore must obey the desires of their father, who has been a liar and a murderer from the beginning.

A Councillor. Ye forget yourself, ye are not now in the pulpit.

Knox. I am in the place where I am demanded of conscience to speak the truth; and therefore I speak. The truth I speak, impugn it whoso list. And hereunto I add, Madam, that honest, gentle, and meek natures by appearance, may, by wicked and corrupt counsellors, be converted and altered to the direct contrary. We have example in Nero, who, in the beginning of his empire, had some natural shame; but, after his flatterers had encouraged him in all impiety, alleging that nothing was either unhonest nor yet unlawful for the personage of him who was emperor above others—when he had drunken of this cup, I say, to what enormities he fell: the histories bear witness. And now, Madam, to speak plainly, Papists and conjured enemies to Jesus Christ have your Grace’s ear patent at all times. I assure your Grace they are dangerous counsellors, and that your mother found.

As this was said, Lethington smiled, and spake secretly to the Queen in her ear; what it was, the table heard not. But immediately she addressed her visage, and spake to John Knox.

Queen. Well, ye speak fair enough here before my Lords; but the last time I spake with you secretly, ye caused me greet many salt tears, and said to me stubbornly that ye set not by my greeting.

Knox. Madam, because now, the second time, your Grace has burdened me with that crime, I must answer, lest for my silence I be holden guilty. If your Grace be ripely remembered, the Laird of Dun, yet living to testify the truth, was present at the time whereof your Grace complains. Your Grace accused me of having irreverently handled you in the pulpit; that I denied. Ye said, What ado had I to speak of your marriage? What was I, that I should mell with such matters? I answered that, as touching nature, I was a worm of this earth, and yet a subject of this commonwealth; but as touching the office wherein it had pleased God to place me, I was a watchman, both over the realm and over the Kirk of God gathered within the same. For that reason, I was bound in conscience to blow the trumpet publicly, oft as ever I saw any upfall,222 any appearing danger, either to the one or to the other. A certain bruit affirmed that traffic of marriage was betwixt your Grace and the Spanish ally; and as to that I said that if your Nobility and Estates did agree—unless both ye and your husband should be so straitly bound that neither of you might hurt this commonwealth, nor yet the poor Kirk of God within the same—in that case I would pronounce that the consenters were troublers of this commonwealth, and enemies to God, and to His promise223 planted within it. At these words, I grant, your Grace stormed, and burst forth into an unreasonable weeping. What mitigation the Laird of Dun would have made, I suppose your Grace has not forgotten. While nothing was able to stay your weeping, I was compelled to say, “I take God to record that I never took pleasure to see any creature weep, yea, not my children when my own hands had beaten them, much less can I rejoice to see your Grace make such regret. But, seeing that I have offered your Grace no such occasion, I must rather suffer your Grace to take your own pleasure, before I dare conceal the truth, and so betray both the Kirk of God and my commonwealth.” These were the most extreme words that I spoke that day.