Читать книгу Life of Mary Queen of Scots, Volume 1 (of 2) - Bell Henry Glassford - Страница 5

It was in the year 1517, that Luther first stated his objections to the validity of the indulgences granted so liberally by Pope Leo X. From this year, those who love to trace causes to their origin, date the epoch of the Reformation. It was not, however, till a considerably later period, that the new doctrines took any deep root in Scotland. In 1552, the Duke of Chatelherault, wearied with the fatigues of Government, and provoked at the opposition he was continually meeting with, resigned the regency in favour of the Queen-mother. Mary of Guise, by a visit she had shortly before paid to the French Court, had paved the way for this accession of power. Her brothers, the Duke of Guise and Cardinal of Lorraine, were far from being satisfied with the state of parties in Scotland. Chatelherault, they knew to be of a weak and fluctuating disposition; and it seemed to them necessary, both for the preservation of the ancient religion, and to secure the allegiance of the country to their niece, the young Queen, that a stronger hand, guided by a sounder head, should hold the reigns of the State. Upon their sister’s fidelity they knew they could depend; and it was principally through the influence of French gold and French intrigue, that she was placed in the regency.

The inhabitants of Scotland were at this time divided into two great classes, – those who were still staunch to the Church of Rome, and those who were determined on effecting a reformation. At the head of the former was John Hamilton, Archbishop of St Andrews, who, upon the murder of Cardinal Beaton, had obtained that appointment through the Duke of Chatelherault, whose natural brother he was. He was greatly the Duke’s superior in courage and sagacity, and was deeply imbued with the prelatical spirit of ambition then so prevalent. The resignation of the regency provoked him exceedingly, the more especially as Mary, to strengthen her own authority, found it necessary at first to treat the Reformers mildly. He was consoled, however, by the death of Edward VI. in 1553, and the accession of the young King’s eldest sister Mary to the English throne, – as bigoted and determined a Catholic as ever lived.

The man who had placed himself at the head of the Reformers, and who, although young, had already given Hamilton and his party good cause to tremble at his increasing authority, was James Stuart, the eldest of Mary’s three illegitimate brothers, – and one who occupies a most important station in the history of his country. His father made him, when only seven years old, Prior or Commendator of St Andrews, an office which entitled him, though a layman, to the full income arising from that rich benefice. It was soon discovered, however, that he had views far beyond so comparatively humble a rank. Even when a boy, it was his ambition to collect around him associates who were devoted to his service and desires. He went over with Mary to France in 1548, but remained there only a very short time; and, at the age of twenty-one, he was already looked up to by the Scottish Reformers as their chief. His knowledge was extensive, and considerably in advance of the times in which he lived. His personal bravery was undoubted, and his skill in arms so great, that few of his military enterprises were unsuccessful. His passions, if they were strong, seem also to have been deep, and entirely under his own command. Whatever may be thought of the secret motives which actuated him, he was seldom betrayed into any symptoms of apparent violence. He thus contrived to hold a steady course, amidst all the turbulence and convulsions of the age in which he lived; whilst the external decorum and propriety of his manners, so different from the ill-concealed dissoluteness of many of his cotemporaries, endeared him the more to the stern followers of Luther. It is curious to observe the very opposite views which different historians have taken of his character, more especially when they come to speak of him as the Earl of Murray and the Regent of Scotland. It would be improper and unnecessary to anticipate these discussions at present, since it is hoped the reader will be able to form his own estimate upon this subject, from the facts he will find recorded in these Memoirs.

It must be evident, that with two such men, each at the head of his own party, the country was not likely to continue long in a state of quietness. The Queen Regent soon found it necessary, at the instigation of the French Court, to associate herself with the Archbishop of St Andrews, – in opposition to which coalition, a bond was drawn up in 1557, by some of the principal Reformers, in which they announced their resolution to form an independent congregation of their own, and to separate themselves entirely from the “congregation of Satan, with all the superstitious abomination and idolatry thereof.” Articles, or Heads of a Reformation, were soon afterwards published, in which it was principally insisted, that on Sunday and other festival days, the Common-Prayer should be read openly in the parish churches, along with the lessons of the Old and New Testaments; and that preaching and interpretation of the Scriptures in private houses should be allowed.

In the following year, one of the first outrages which the Reformers committed in Scotland, took place in Edinburgh. On occasion of the annual procession through the city, in honour of the tutelar Saint – St Giles, the image of that illustrious personage, which ought to have been carried by some of the priests, was amissing, – the godly having, beforehand, according to John Knox, first drowned the idol in the North Loch, and then burned it. It was therefore necessary to borrow a smaller saint from the Gray-Friars, in order that this “great solemnity and manifest abomination” might proceed. Upon the day appointed, priests, friars, canons, and “rotten Papists,” assembled, with tabors, trumpets, banners, and bagpipes. At this sight, the hearts of the brethren were wondrously inflamed; and they resolved, that this second dragon should suffer the fate of the first. They broke in upon the procession; and though the Catholics made some slight resistance at first, they were soon obliged to surrender the image into the hands of the Philistines, who, taking it by the heels, and knocking, or, as the reformed historian says, dadding its head upon the pavement, soon reduced it to fragments, only regretting, that “the young St Giles” had not been so difficult to kill as his father. The priests, alarmed for their personal safety, sought shelter as quickly as possible, and gave Knox an opportunity of indulging in some of that austere mirth which is peculiarly remarkable, because so foreign to his general style. “Then might have been seen,” says he, “so sudden a fray as seldom has been seen among that sort of men within this realm; for down goes the cross, off go the surplices, round caps, and cornets with the crowns. The Gray-Friars gaped, the Black-Friars blew, and the priests panted and fled, and happy was he that first got the house; for such a sudden fray came never among the generation of Antichrist within this realm before.” The magistrates had some difficulty in prevailing upon the mob to disperse, after they had kept possession of the streets for several hours; and the rioters escaped without punishment; for “the brethren assembled themselves in such sort in companies, singing psalms, and praising God, that the proudest of the enemies were astounded.”4

The Commissioners who, about this time, were sent into France, and the motives of their embassy, will be spoken of afterwards. But the remarkable circumstance, that four of them died when about to return home, – one at Paris, and three at Dieppe, – had a considerable influence in exciting the populace to still greater hatred against the French party, – it being commonly suspected that they had come by their death unfairly. The Congregation now rose in their demands; and among other things, insisted that “the wicked and scandalous lives” of churchmen should be reformed, according to the rules contained in the New Testament, the writings of the ancient fathers, and the laws of Justinian the Emperor. For a while, the Queen Regent temporized; but finding it impossible to preserve the favour of both parties, she yielded at length to the solicitations of the Archbishop of St Andrews, and determined to resist the Reformers vigorously. In 1559, she summoned all the ministers of the Congregation, to appear before her at Stirling. This citation was complied with, but not exactly in the manner that the Queen wished; for the ministers came not as culprits, but as men proud of their principles, and accompanied by a vast multitude of those who were of the same mode of thinking. The Queen, who was at Stirling, did not venture to proceed to Perth; and the request she made, that the numbers there assembled should depart, leaving their ministers to be examined by the Government, having been refused, she proceeded to the harsh and decisive measure of declaring them all rebels.

The consternation which this direct announcement of hostilities occasioned among them, was still at its height, when the great champion of the Scottish Reformation, John Knox, arrived at Perth. This celebrated divine had already suffered much for “the good cause;” and though his zeal and devotion to it were well known, it was not till latterly that he had entertained much hope of its final triumph in his native country. He had spent the greater part of his life in imprisonment or exile; he had undergone many privations, and submitted to many trials. But these were the daily food of the Reformers; and, whilst they only served to strengthen them in the obduracy of their belief, they had the additional effect of infusing a morose acerbity into dispositions not naturally of the softest kind. Knox had returned only a few days before from Geneva, where he had been solacing his solitude by writing and publishing that celebrated work, which he was pleased to entitle, “The first blast of the trumpet against the monstrous regiment of women.” This treatise, directed principally against Mary of England, not forgetting Mary Queen of Scots and her mother of Guise, rather overshot its own purpose, by bringing the Reformer into disrepute with Elizabeth, who came to the crown soon after its appearance. To pacify that Queen, for it appears even Knox could temporize occasionally, he gave up his original intention of blowing his trumpet thrice, and his first blast was his last.5

The day after the ministers and their friends, had been declared rebels, Knox delivered at Perth what Keith terms “that thundering Sermon against Idolatry.” The tumult which ensued at the conclusion of this discourse, has been attributed by some historians to accident; but Keith’s suspicion, that Knox had a direct intention to excite it, seems well founded, when we consider the ferment in which the minds of his audience were at the time, and the peculiar style in which he addressed them. Buchanan is of the same opinion, though he would naturally have leant to the other conclusion. He says that Knox, “in that ticklish posture of affairs, made such a pathetic sermon to the multitude who were gathered together, that he set their minds, which were already fired, all in a flame.” If, in addition to this, the usual manner of Knox’s eloquence be considered, it will hardly be questioned but that the outrage of that day was of his doing. His vehemence in the pulpit was at all times tremendous; indeed, in so far as the effect he produced upon his hearers was concerned, he seems to have trusted almost as much to the display of his physical as of his mental energies. Many years after the period now alluded to, when he was in his old age, and very weak, Melville tells us, that he saw him every Sunday go slowly and feebly, with fur about his neck, a staff in his hand, and a servant supporting him, from his own house, to the parish church in St Andrews. There, after being lifted into the pulpit, his limbs for some time were so feeble, that they could hardly support him; but ere he had done with his sermon, he became so active and vigorous, that he was like “to ding the pulpit in blads, and flie out of it.”6 What he must have been, therefore, in his best days, may be more easily imagined than described.

On the present occasion, after Knox had preached, and some of the congregation had retired, it appears that some “godly men” remained in the church. A priest had the imprudence to venture in among them, and to commence saying mass. A young man called out that such idolatry was intolerable, upon which it is said that the priest struck him. The young man retorted, by throwing a stone, which injured one of the pictures. The affair soon became general. The enraged people fell upon the altars and images, and in a short time nothing was left undemolished but the bare walls of the church. The Reformers throughout the city, hearing of these proceedings, speedily collected, and attacking the monasteries of the Gray and Black Friars, along with the costly edifice of the Carthusian Monks, left not a vestige of what they considered idolatrous and profane worship in any of them. The example thus set at Perth was speedily followed almost everywhere throughout the country.

These outrages greatly incensed the Queen Regent, and were looked upon with horror by the Catholics in general. To this day, the loss of many a fine building, through the zeal of the early Reformers, is a common subject of regret and complaint. It is to be remembered, however, that no revolution can be effected without paying a price for it. If the Reformation was a benefit, how could the Catholic superstition be more successfully attacked, than by knocking down those gorgeous temples, which were of themselves sufficient to render invincible the pride and inveterate bigotry of its votaries? The saying of John Knox, though a homely, was a true one, – “Pull down their nests, and the rooks will fly away.” It is not improbable, as M’Crie conjectures, that had these buildings been allowed to remain in their former splendour, the Popish clergy might have long continued to indulge hopes, and to make efforts, to be restored to them. Victories over an enemy are celebrated with public rejoicings, notwithstanding the thousands of our fellow-countrymen who may have fallen in the contest. Why should the far more important victory, over those who had so long held in thraldom the human mind, be robbed of its due praise, because some statues were mangled, some pictures torn, and some venerable towers overthrown?7

With as little delay as possible, the Queen Regent appeared with an army before Perth, and made herself mistress of the town. The Reformers, however, were not to be intimidated; and their strength having, by this time, much increased, it was deemed prudent by the Regent not to push matters to an extremity. Both parties agreed to disband their forces, and to refer the controversy to the next Parliament. As was to be expected, this temporary truce was not of long duration. Incessant mutual recrimination and aggression, soon induced both sides to concentrate their forces once more. Perth was re-taken by the Reformers, who shortly afterwards marched into Edinburgh. After remaining there for some time, they were surprised by a sudden march which the Queen made upon them from Dunbar, and were compelled to fall back upon Stirling.

A belief was at this time prevalent at the court of France, that the Prior of St Andrews, who was the principal military leader of the Congregation, had views of a treasonable nature even upon the crown itself, and that he hoped the flaw in his legitimacy might be forgotten, in consideration of his godly exertions in support of the true faith. A new reinforcement of French soldiers arrived at Leith, which they fortified; and the French ambassador was commanded to inform the Prior, that the King, his master, would rather spend the crown of France, than not be revenged of the seditious persons in Scotland.

The civil war now raged with increased bitterness, and with various success, but without any decisive advantage on either side for some time. The Reformers applied for assistance to Queen Elizabeth, who favoured their cause for various reasons, and would, no doubt, much rather have seen Murray in possession of the Scottish crown, than her own personal rival, Mary. The Congregation having found it impossible, by their own efforts, to drive the French out of Leith, Elizabeth, in the beginning of the year 1560, fitted out a powerful fleet, which, to the astonishment of the Queen Regent and her French allies, sailed up the Firth of Forth, and anchored in the Roads, before even the purpose for which it had come was known. A treaty was soon afterwards concluded at Berwick between the Lords of the Congregation and Elizabeth’s Commissioner, the Duke of Norfolk, by which it was agreed, on the part of the former, that no alliance should ever be entered into by them with France; and on that of the latter, that an English army should march into Scotland early in spring, for the purpose of aiding in the expulsion of the French troops.

This army came at the time appointed, and was soon joined by the forces of the Reformers. The allies marched directly for Leith, which they invested without loss of time. The siege was conducted with great spirit, but the town was very resolutely defended by the French. So much determination was displayed upon both sides, that it is difficult to say how the matter might have ended, had not the death of the Queen Regent, which took place at this juncture, changed materially the whole aspect of affairs. She had been ill for some time, and during her sickness resided in the Castle of Edinburgh. Perceiving that her end was approaching, she requested an interview with some of the leaders of the Congregation. The Duke of Chatelherault, the Prior of St Andrews, or the Lord James, as he was commonly called, and others, waited upon her in her sick-chamber. She expressed to them her sincere grief for the troubles which existed in the country, and advised that both the English and French troops should be sent home. She entreated that they would reverence and obey their native and lawful sovereign, her daughter Mary. She told them how deeply attached she was to Scotland and its interests, although by birth a Frenchwoman; and at the conclusion, she burst into tears, kissing the nobles one by one, and asking pardon of all whom she had in any way offended. The day after this interview, Mary of Guise died. Her many excellent qualities were long remembered in Scotland; for even those who could not love, respected her. In private life, if this term can be used with propriety when speaking of a Queen, she appears to have been most deservedly esteemed. She set an example to all her maids of honour, of piety, modesty, and becoming gravity of deportment; she was exceedingly charitable to the poor; and had she fallen upon better days, her life would have been a happier one for herself, and her memory more generally prized by posterity. Her body was carried over to France, and buried in the Benedictine Monastery at Rheims.8

Very soon after the death of the Queen Regent, Commissioners arrived both from France and England, with full powers to conclude a treaty of peace between the three countries. By the loss of their sister, the Princes of Lorraine had been deprived of their chief support in Scotland, and, being actively engaged in schemes of ambition nearer home, they found it necessary to conciliate, as they best could, the predominating party there. The important treaty of Edinburgh, which will be mentioned frequently hereafter, was concluded on the 14th of June 1560. It was signed on the part of France by the two plenipotentiaries, Monluc, Bishop of Valence, and the Sieur Derandon, reckoned two of the best diplomatists of the day; and, on the part of England, by Wotton, Dean of Canterbury, and Elizabeth’s prime minister, Cecil, one of the ablest men of that or any age. The interests of the Congregation were intrusted principally to the Lord James. In consequence of this treaty, the French troops were immediately withdrawn. The fortifications of Leith and Dunbar were destroyed, and a Parliament was held, whose acts were to be considered as valid as if it had been called by the express commands of the Queen. In that Parliament, the adherents of the Congregation were found greatly to out-number their adversaries. An act of oblivion and indemnity was passed for all that had taken place within the two preceding years; and, for the first time, the Catholics, awed into silence, submitted to every thing which the Reformers proposed. A new Confession of Faith was sanctioned; the jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Courts was abolished; and the exercise of worship, according to the rites of the Romish Church, was prohibited under severe penalties – a third act of disobedience being declared capital.

Thus, the Reformation finally triumphed in Scotland. Though as yet only in its infancy, and still exposed to many perils, it was nevertheless established on a comparatively firm and constitutional basis. The Catholics, it is true, aware of the school in which Mary had been educated, were far from having given up all hope of retrieving their circumstances; and they waited for her return with the utmost impatience and anxiety. But they ought to have known, that whatever might have been Mary’s wishes, their reign was over in Scotland. A Sovereign may coerce the bodies, but he can never possess a despotic sway over the minds of his subjects. The people had now begun to think for themselves; and a belief in the mere mummeries of a fantastic system of Christianity, and of the efficacy of miracles performed by blocks of wood and stone, was never again to form a portion of their faith. A brief account of one of the last, and not least ludicrous attempts which the Popish clergy made to support their sinking cause, will form a not improper conclusion to this chapter.

There was a chapel in the neighbourhood of Musselburgh, dedicated to the Lady of Loretto, which, from the character of superior sanctity it had acquired, had long been the favourite resort of religious devotees. In this chapel, a body of the Catholic priests undertook to put their religion to the test, by performing a miracle. They fixed upon a young man, who was well known as a common blind beggar, in the streets of Edinburgh, and engaged to restore to him, in the presence of the assembled people, the perfect use of his eyesight. A day was named, on which they calculated they might depend on this wonderful interposition of divine power in their behalf. From motives of curiosity, a great crowd was attracted at the appointed time to the chapel. The blind man made his appearance on a scaffold, erected for the occasion. The priests approached the altar, and, after praying very devoutly, and performing other religious ceremonies, he who had previously been stone blind, opened his eyes, and declared he saw all things plainly. Having humbly and gratefully thanked his benefactors, the priests, he was permitted to mingle among the astonished people, and receive their charity.

Unfortunately, however, for the success of this deception, a gentleman from Fife, of the name of Colville, determined to penetrate, if possible, a little further into the mystery. He prevailed upon the subject of the recent experiment to accompany him to his lodgings in Edinburgh. As soon as they were alone, he locked the chamber-door, and either by bribes or threats, contrived to win from him the whole secret. It turned out, that in his boyhood, this tool, in the hands of the designing, had been employed as a herd by the nuns of the Convent of Sciennes, then in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh. It was remarked by the sisterhood, that he had an extraordinary facility in “flyping up the lid of his eyes, and casting up the white.” Some of the neighbouring priests, hearing accidentally of this talent, imagined that it might be applied to good account. They accordingly took him from Sciennes to the monastery near Musselburgh, where they kept him till he had made himself an adept in this mode of counterfeiting blindness, and till his personal appearance was so much changed, that the few who had been acquainted with him before, would not be able to recognise him. They then sent him into Edinburgh to beg publicly, and make himself familiarly known to the inhabitants, as a common blind mendicant. So far every thing had gone smoothly, and the scene at the Chapel of Loretto might have had effect on the minds of the vulgar, had Colville’s activity not discovered the gross imposture. Colville, who belonged to the Congregation, instantly took the most effectual means to make known the deceit. He insisted upon the blind man’s appearing with him next day, at the Cross of Edinburgh, where the latter repeated all he had previously told Colville, and confessed the iniquity of his own conduct, as well as that of the priests. To shelter him from their revenge, Colville immediately afterwards carried him off to Fife; and the story, with all its details, being speedily disseminated, exposed the Catholic clergy to more contempt than ever.9