Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

Mr. Wishart being now in St. Andrews, the cardinal without delay caused summon the bishops and superior clergy to meet at that place on the 27th of February 1546, to deliberate upon a question about which he was already resolved. The next day after this convocation, Mr. Wishart received a summons in prison, by the dean of the town, to answer to-morrow, for his heretical doctrine, before the judges. The next day, the cardinal went to the place of judgement, in the abbey church, with a train of armed men marching in warlike order; immediately Mr. Wishart was sent for from the sea-tower, which was his prison, and being about to enter the door of the church, a poor man asked alms of him, to whom he threw his purse. When he came before the cardinal, John Wirnam the sub-prior went up into the pulpit by appointment, and made a discourse upon the nature of heresy from Matth. xiii. which he did with great caution, and yet in such a way as applied more justly to the accusers, for he was a secret favourer of the truth. After him came up one John Lander, a most virulent enemy of religion, who acted the part of Mr. Wishart's accuser, he pulled out a long roll of maledictory charges against Mr. Wishart, and dealt out the Romish thunder so liberally as terrified the ignorant by-standers, but did not in the least discompose this meek servant of Christ; he was accused of disobedience to the governor's authority, for teaching that man had no free-will, and for contemning fasting, (all which he absolutely refused) and for denying that there are seven sacraments; that auricular confession, extreme unction, and the sacrament of the altar, so called, are sacraments; that we should pray to saints; and for saying, That it was necessary for every man to know and understand his baptism; that the pope hath no more power than another man; that it is as lawful to eat flesh upon Friday as upon Sunday; that there is no purgatory, and that it is vain to build costly churches to the honour of God, and for condemning conjuration, the vows of single life, the cursings of the holy church, &c. While Lauder was reading these accusations, he had put himself into a most violent sweat, frothing at the mouth and calling Mr. Wishart a runagate traitor, and demanded an answer, which he made in a short and modest oration: At which they cried out with one content against him in a most tumultuous manner; by which he saw, they were resolved to proceed against him to the utmost extremity, he therefore appealed to a more equitable and impartial judge. Upon which Lauder (repeating the several titles of the cardinal) asked him, "If my lord cardinal was not an equitable judge?" Mr. Wishart replied, "I do not refuse him, but I desire the word of God to be my judge, the temporal estates, with some of your lordships, because I am my lord governor's prisoner." After some scornful language thrown out both against him and the governor, they proceeded to read the articles against him a second time, and hear his answers, which he made with great solidity of judgment: After which they condemned him to be burnt as an heretic, paying no regard to his defences, nor to the emotions of their own consciences, but thought that by killing him they should do _God good service_. Upon this resolution, (for their final sentence was not yet pronounced) Mr. Wishart kneeled down and prayed in the following manner.

"O immortal God, how long wilt thou suffer the rage of the ungodly, how long shall they exercise their fury upon thy servants, who further thy word in this world, seeing they desire to choke and destroy thy true doctrine and verity, by which thou hast shewed thyself unto the world, which was drowned in blindness and ignorance of thy name? O Lord, we know surely that thy true servants must suffer for thy name's sake, both persecution, affliction and troubles in this present life, which is but a shadow, as thy prophets and apostles have shewed us, but yet we desire thee, merciful Father, that thou wouldst preserve, defend and help thy congregation, which thou hast chosen from before the foundation of the world, and give them thy grace to hear thy word, and to be thy true servants in this present life."

After this, the common people were removed until their definitive sentence should be pronounced, which being so similar to Mr. Hamilton's, need not be here inserted. This being done, he was re-committed to the castle for that night; in his way thither, two friars came to him requesting him to make his confession to them, which he refused, but desired them to bring Mr. Wirnam who had preached that day, to him; who being come, after some discourse with Mr. Wishart, he asked him, If he would receive the sacrament of the Lord's supper? Mr. Wishart answered, "Most willingly, if I may have it administered according to Christ's institution, under both kinds, of bread and wine." Hereupon the sub-prior went to the bishops, and asked, If they would permit the sacrament to be given to the prisoner? But the cardinal, in all their names, answered, That it was not reasonable to give any spiritual benefit to an obstinate heretic condemned by the church.

All this night Mr. Wishart spent in prayer, and next morning the captain of the castle gave him notice that they had denied him the sacrament, and at the same time invited him to breakfast with him, which Mr. Wishart accepted, saying, "I will do that very willingly, and so much the rather, because I perceive you to be a good Christian, and a man fearing God." All things being ready, and the family assembled to breakfast, Mr. Wishart turning himself to the captain, said, "I beseech you, in the name of God, and for the love ye bear to our Saviour Jesus Christ, to be silent a little while, till I have made a short exhortation, and blessed this bread which we are to eat, so that I may bid you farewel." The table being covered and bread let upon it, he spake about the space of half an hour, of the institution of the supper, and of our Saviour's death and passion, exhorting those who were present to mutual love and holiness of life. Then, giving thanks, he brake the bread, distributing a part to those about him, who were disposed to communicate, intreating them to remember that Christ died for them, and to feed on it spiritually; then taking the cup, he bade them remember that Christ's blood was shed for them; And having tasted it himself, he delivered it unto them, and then concluding with thanksgiving and prayer, he told them, "That he would neither eat nor drink more in this life," and retired to his chamber.

Soon after, by the appointment of the cardinal, two executioners came to him, and arraying him in a black linen coat, they fastened some bags of gun-powder about him, put a rope about his neck, a chain about his waist, and bound his hands behind his back, and in this dress they led him one to the stake, near the cardinal's palace; opposite to the stake they had placed the great guns of the castle, lest any should attempt to rescue him. The fore tower, which was immediately opposite to the fire, was hung with tapestry, and rich cushions were laid in the windows, for the ease of the cardinal and prelates, while they beheld the sad spectacle. As he was going to the stake, it is said, that two beggars asked alms of him, and that he replied, "I want my hands wherewith I used to give you alms, but the merciful Lord vouchsafe to give you all necessaries, both for soul and body." After this the friars came about him, urging him to _pray to our Lady_, &c. to whom he answered, "Cease, tempt me not, I intreat you."

Having mounted a scaffold prepared on purpose, he turned towards the people and declared that "he felt much joy within himself in offering up his life for the name of Christ, and told them that they ought not to be offended with the good word of God, because of the afflictions I have endured, or the torments which ye now see prepared for me; but I intreat you, that you love the word of God for your salvation, and suffer patiently and with a comfortable heart for the word's sake, which is your everlasting comfort; but for the true gospel which was given me by the grace of God, I suffer this day with a glad heart. Behold, and consider my visage, ye shall not see me change my colour; I fear not this fire, and I pray that you may not fear them that slay the body, but have no power to slay the soul. Some have said that I taught that the soul shall sleep till the last day, but I know surely, and my faith is such, that my soul shall sup with my Saviour this night." Then he prayed for his accusers, that they might be forgiven, if, through ignorance or evil design, they had forged lies upon him. After this the executioner asked his forgiveness, to whom he replied, "Come hither to me;" and when he came, he kissed his cheek, and said, "Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee, do thine office." Being raised up from his knees, he was bound to the stake, crying with a loud voice _O Saviour of the world, have mercy upon me; Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands_: whereupon the executioner kindled the fire, and the powder that was fastened to his body blew up. The captain of the castle perceiving that he was still alive, drew near, and bid him be of good courage, whereupon Mr. Wishart said, "This flame hath scorched my body, yet it hath not daunted my spirit; but he who, from yonder place beholdeth us with such pride, shall within a few days lie in the same as ignominiously as he is now seen proudly to rest himself." But as he was thus speaking, the executioner drew the cord that was about his neck so strait that he spoke no more; and thus, like another Elijah, he took his flight by a fiery chariot into heaven, and obtained the martyr's crown on the 1st of March, 1546.

Thus lived, and thus died this faithful witness of Jesus Christ; he was early marked out as a sacrifice to papal tyranny, being delated to the bishop of Brichen for an heretic, because he taught the Greek new Testament to his scholars, while he kept school at Montrose; he was summoned by him, to appear before him, but escaped into England, and at the university of Cambridge completed his education, and was himself an instructor of others; During the whole time he was in his own country, he was hunted as a _partridge in the mountains_, until the cardinal got him brought to the stake. Through the whole of his sufferings, his meekness and patience were very remarkable, as was that uncommon measure of the spirit of prophecy which he possessed; witness the circumstances relative to Dundee, Haddington, the reformation from popery, and the cardinal's death, all of which were foretold by him, and soon after accomplished.

The popish clergy rejoiced at his death, and extolled the cardinal's courage, for proceeding in it against the governor's order; but the people very justly looked upon him as both a prophet and a martyr. It was also did, that abstracting from the grounds of his suffering, his death was no less than murder, in regard no writ was obtained for it, and the clergy could not burn any without a warrant from the secular power. This stirred up Norman, and John Lefties of the family of Rothes, William Kircaldie of Grange, James Melvil of the family of Carnbee, Peter Carmichael and others, to avenge Mr. Wishart's death. Accordingly upon the 28th of May, 1546, (not three months after Mr. Wishart suffered) they surprized the castle early in the morning, and either secured or turned out the persons who were lodged in it; came to the cardinal's door, who was by this time alarmed, and had secured it, but upon their threatening to force open the door, he opened it, (relying partly upon the sanctity of his office, and partly on his acquaintance with some of them) crying, "I am a priest, I am a priest;" but this had no effect upon them, for James Melvil having exhorted him in a solemn manner to repentance, and having apprized him, that he was now to avenge Mr. Wishart's death, he stabbed him twice or thrice; which ended his wretched days. These persons, with some others who came in to them, held the castle out for near two years, being assisted by England; they had the governor's eldest son with them, for he had been put under the cardinal's care, and was in the castle at the time they surprized it. The castle was at last besieged by the French, and surrendered upon having the lives of all that were in it secured.

Betwixt this and the time of Mr. Walter Mill's sufferings, whose life follows, one Adam Wallace, _alias_ Fean, a simple but very zealous man, was taken at Winton, and was brought to his trial in the Blackfriars church in Edinburgh, where he was charged with articles of heresy, similar to those with which others before him had been charged. He was condemned and burnt in the castle-hill, suffering with great patience and resolution.

There were others condemned before that time, among whom were Robert Forrester gentleman, Sir Duncan Simson priest, Friar Killore, Friar Beveridge, and dean Thomas Forrest a canon, regular and vicar of Dollar, who were all burnt at one stake upon the castle-hill of Edinburgh, February 1538.

_The Life of Mr. WALTER MILL._

He was born about the year 1476, was educated in the Popish religion, and made priest of Lunan in the shire of Angus, where he remained until he was accused by the bishop of St. Andrews of having left off saying mass, which he had done long before this time, being condemned by the cardinal on that account, in the year 1538; but he escaped the flames for this time, by flying into Germany, where he married a wife, and was more perfectly instructed in the true religion; after which he returned home, but kept himself as retired as possible; during which time he went about reproving vice and instructing people in the grounds of religion, which coming at length to the ears of the ecclesiastics, in 1558, he was, by order of the bishops, apprehended in Dysart in the shire of Fife, by two priests, and imprisoned in the castle of St. Andrews, where the Papists, both by threatening and flattery, laboured with him to recant, offering him a place in the abbey of Dunfermline all the days of his life, if he would deny what he had already taught. But continuing constant in his opinions, he was brought to a trial before the bishops of St. Andrews, Murray, Brechin, Caithness, &c. who were assembled in the cathedral of St. Andrews. When he came to make his defence, he was so old, feeble and lame, that it was feared none would hear him; but as soon as he began to speak, he surprized them all, his voice made the church to ring, and his quickness and courage amazed his very enemies.

At first he kneeled and prayed for some time, after which one Sir Andrew Oliphant a priest, called to him to arise, and answer to the articles of charge, saying, "You keep my lord of St. Andrews too long here;" nevertheless he continued some time in prayer, and when he arose, said, "I ought to obey God more than man. I serve a mightier Lord than your lord is, and whereas you call me _Sir Walter_, they call me _Walter_; I have been too long one of the pope's knights: Now say what you have to say."

* * * * *

Oliphant _began his Interrogations as follows_:

_Olip._ Thou sayest there are not seven sacraments?

_Mill._ Give me the Lord's Supper and Baptism, and take you all the rest.

_Oliph._ What think you of a priest's marriage?

_Mill._ I think it a blessed bond ordained by God, and approved of by Christ, and free to all sorts of men; but ye abhor it, and in the meanwhile take other men's wives and daughters: Ye vow chastity, and keep it not.

_Oliph._ How sayest thou that the mass is idolatry?

_Mill._ A lord or king calleth many to dinner, they come and sit down, but the lord himself turneth his back, and eateth up all; and so do you.

_Olip._ Thou deniest the sacrament of the altar to be the real body of Christ in flesh and blood?

_Mill._ The scriptures are to be understood spiritually and not carnally, and so your mass is wrong, for Christ was once offered on the cross for sin, and will never be offered again, for then he put an end to all sacrifice.

_Oliph._ Thou deniest the office of a bishop?

_Mill._ I affirm that those you call bishops do no bishop's work, but live after sensual pleasure, taking no care of Christ's flock, nor regarding his word.

_Oliph._ Thou speakest against pilgrimage, and sayest, It is a pilgrimage to whoredom?

_Mill._ I say pilgrimage is not commanded in scripture, and that there is no greater whoredom in any place, except in brothel-houses.

_Oliph._ You preach privately in houses, and sometimes in the field?

_Mill._ Yea, and on the sea also when sailing in a ship.

Then said _Oliphant_, "If you will not recant, I will pronounce sentence against you."

To this he replied, "I know I must die once, and therefore as Christ said to Judas, _What thou dost, do quickly_: you shall know that I will not recant the truth, for I am corn and not chaff: I will neither be blown away by the wind, nor burst with the flail, but will abide both."

Then Oliphant, as the mouth of the court, was ordered to pronounce sentence against him, ordaining him to be delivered to the temporal judge, and burnt as an heretic. But they could not procure one as a temporal judge to condemn him. One Learmond, then provost of the town, and bailie of the bishop's regality, refused it, and went out of town; the people of the place were so moved at his constancy, and offended at the wrong done to him, that they refused to supply ropes to bind him, and other materials for his execution, whereby his death was retarded for one day. At last one Somerville, a domestic of the bishop, undertook to act the part of temporal judge, and the ropes of the bishop's pavilion were taken to serve the purpose.

All things being thus prepared, he was led forth by Somerville with a guard of armed men to his execution; being come to the place, some cried out to him to recant, to whom he answered, "I marvel at your rage, ye hypocrites, who do so cruelly pursue the servants of God; as for me, I am now eighty-two years old, and cannot live long by course of nature; but an hundred shall rise out of my ashes, who shall scatter you, ye hypocrites and persecutors of God's people; and such of you as now think yourselves the best, shall not die such an honest death as I now do; I trust in God, I shall be the last who shall suffer death, in this fashion, for this cause in this land." Thus his constancy increased as his end drew near. Being ordered by Oliphant to go up to the stake, he refused, and said, "No, I will not go, except thou put me up with thy hand, for by the law of God I am forbidden to put hands to myself, but if thou wilt put to thy hand, and take part of my death, thou shalt see me go up gladly." Then Oliphant putting him foreward, he went up with a cheerful countenance, saying, _Introibo ad altare Dei_, and desired that he might be permitted to speak to the people; he was answered by Oliphant, "That he had spoken too much already, and the bishops were exceedingly displeased with what he had said." But some youths took his part, and bid him say on what he pleased; he first bowed his knees and prayed, then arose and standing upon the coals addressed the people to this effect, "Dear friends, the cause why I suffer this day, is not for any crime laid to my charge, though I acknowledge myself a miserable sinner before God, but only for the defence of the truths of Jesus Christ set forth in the old and new Testament; I praise God that he hath called me among the rest of his servants, to seal up his truth with my life; as I have received it of him, so I again willingly offer it up for his glory, therefore, as ye would escape eternal death, be no longer seduced with the lies of bishops, abbots, friars, monks, and the rest of that sect of Antichrist, but depend only upon Jesus Christ and his mercy, that so ye may be delivered from condemnation."--During this speech, loud murmurs and lamentations were heard among the multitude, some admiring the patience, boldness and constancy of this martyr, others complaining of the hard measures and cruelty of his persecutors. After having spoken as above, he prayed a little while, and then was drawn up and bound to the stake, and the fire being kindled, he cried, "Lord, have mercy on me; Pray, pray, good people, while there is time." And so cheerfully yielded up his soul into the hands of his God on the twenty-eighth of April, _anno_ 1558, being then about the eighty-second year of his age.

The fortitude and constancy of this martyr affected the people so much, that they heaped up a great pile of stones on the place where he had been burned, that the memory of his death might be preserved, but the priests gave orders to have it taken down and carried away, denouncing a curse on any who should lay stones there again; but that anathema was so little regarded, that what was thrown down in the day-time was raised again in the night, until at last the papists carried away the stones to build houses in or about the town, which they did in the night, with all possible secresy.

The death of this martyr brought about the downfal of popery in Scotland, for the people in general were so much inflamed, that resolving openly to profess the truth, they bound themselves by promises, and subscriptions of oaths, That before they would be thus abused any longer they would take arms, and resist the papal tyranny, which they at last did.

_The Life of JAMES STUART, Earl of Moray._

He was a natural son of K. James V. and brother by the father's side to Mary queen of Scots; in his infancy he was put under the celebrated George Buchanan, who instilled such principles into his mind in early life, as by the divine blessing made him an honour to the Scottish nation.

The reader cannot expect a very minute detail of all the heroic and patriotic deeds of this worthy nobleman, considering the station which he filled, and his activity in the discharge of the duties belonging to it.

He was the principal agent in promoting the work of reformation from popery. On the first dawning of it in the year 1555, he attended the preaching of Mr. John Knox at Calder, where he often wished that his doctrine had been more public, which was an open profession of his love and zeal for the true religion.

He went over to France with some other Scottish noblemen at the time of his sister's marriage with the dauphine, where his companions were supposed to have been poisoned, for they died in France: He escaped by the interposition of a kind providence, but retained a weak and disordered stomach all his life; this did not however unfit him for these services which he did to religion and his country after this.

In the year 1556, he and Argyle wrote to Mr. Knox at Geneva, to return to Scotland, in order to further the reformation. Upon which, after having been detained some time at Diep, Mr Knox returned in the year 1559, and went to St. Johnstoun, where the reforming congregation resorted to him; which coming to the ears of the queen-regent, she sent the earl of Argyle and Lord James (for that was the earl of Moray's title at this time) to know the intent of so great an assembly. Mr. Knox returned this answer, That "her enterprize would not prosper in the end, seeing that she intended to fight against God, &c." Upon receiving this reply, she summoned them to depart from the town of St. Johnstoun; but afterwards hearing of the daily increase of their numbers, she gave them leave to depart peaceably, with many fair promises, that they should meet with no further danger. On which they obeyed and left the town, but they had no sooner done so, than she with her French guards entered it in a most outrageous manner, telling the inhabitants, That no faith should be kept with heretics.--This flagrant breach of promise provoked Lord James to that degree, that he left the queen, and joined the lords of the congregation (for so they were afterwards called). As soon as the queen got intelligence of this, she sent a threatening letter to him and Argyle (for they stuck together on almost all occasions) commanding them to return, but to no purpose; for they went to Fife, and there began to throw down and remove the monuments of idolatry: Here they continued for some time; but being informed that the queen intended to go to Stirling, they went off from Perth late in the night, and entered Stirling with their associates where they immediately demolished the monasteries, and purged the churches of idolatry. Such was the zeal of these worthy noblemen for the interest of the reformed religion in Scotland.

From Stirling they marched for Edinburgh, purging all the superstitious relicts of idolatry out of Linlithgow in their way.--These summary proceedings alarmed the queen regent, insomuch that her zeal for the Romish idolatry, gave way to her fears about her civil authority. To make the conduct of these reformers the more odious to the unthinking part of the nation, she gave out that they were in open rebellion against her, and that they made a pretence of religion, but that the real design was to set lord James on the throne (there being now no male-heir to the crown), These insinuations she found means to transmit to lord James himself, in a letter said to be forged in the names of Francis and Mary the king and queen of France, wherein he was further upbraided with ingratitude on account of the favours they pretended that they had shown him, and threatened to lay down his arms and return to his allegiance. To this letter, (notwithstanding there were strong reasons to suspect it was forged) he nevertheless returned a resolute answer, declaring that he was not conscious to himself, either in word or deed, of any offence either against the regent or laws; but in regard the nobility had undertaken the reformation of religion, which was delayed, and seeing they aimed at nothing but the glory of God, he was willing to bear the reproach which the enemies of religion would load him with, neither was it just for him to desert that cause which had Christ himself for its head and defender, whom, unless they would voluntarily deny, they could not give up that enterprise in which they were imbarked.

While these things were transacting, the lords of the congregation being then in and about Edinburgh, there were to the number of 3000 French landed at Leith at different times, to support the queen regent, between whom and the lords of the congregation there were several skirmishes, with little success on either side; yet the lords retired to Stirling, leaving the French for a time masters of the field, but not without apprehensions of danger from the arrival of an English fleet, which was then expected. In the mean time, they went over to Fife, spreading devastation every where around them without resistance: Whereupon the queen regent thus expressed herself, "Where is John Knox's God now, my God is stronger, even now in Fife." This impious boast lasted not long, for Argyle and lord James went to the town of Dysart immediately to stop their career along the coast. The French were 4000 strong, besides the Scots who adhered to them; the army of the congregation were not above 600 men, yet they behaved with such courage and resolution, as for twenty days successively they faced this army, and for each man they lost in every skirmish, the French lost four. As an evidence of the uncommon attention which these two noblemen bestowed on this business, they never put off their cloaths during the whole time, and slept but little.

In the month of June the queen regent died, and a little after her Francis king of France died likewise, by which Scotland was delivered from this foreign army.--About this time lord James went over to France, to visit his sister Mary; after settling matters in Scotland as well as he could, he was attended by a splendid retinue, but appears to have met with a cold reception: After several conversations with Queen Mary, she told him, That she intended to return home. During his stay at Paris, he met with many insults on account of his known attachment to the reformed religion: A box containing some valuable things was stole from him; several persons were likewise hired to assassinate him in the street: he was apprized of his danger by an old friend of his own, but not before he was almost involved in it, being instantly surrounded by a rabble, calling out _Hugenot, hugenot_, and throwing stones; he made his way through them on horseback. Soon after this he left Paris, and returned home in May 1561, with a commission from the queen, appointing him regent until her return, which was in August following, when, as Knox expresses it, "Dolour and darkness came along with her," for tho' justice and equity were yet administered, and crimes were punished, because the administration of civil affairs was yet in the hands of lord James, who for his management of public concerns was beloved by all, yet upon the queen's arrival, French levity and dissipation soon corrupted the court to a very high degree.

About this time a banditti called the moss-troopers broke in upon the borders of Scotland, committing very alarming depredations, by robbing and murdering all that came in their way. The queen sent lord James with a small force to oppose them, not with the intention that he might have the opportunity of acquiring military reputation, but to expose him to danger, that, if possible, she might get rid of him, for his popularity made her very uneasy, and his fidelity and boldness in reproving her faults, and withstanding her tyrannical measures, made him still more the object of her hatred and disgust. But, contrary to the expectations of many, God so prospered him in this expedition, that in a short time he brought twenty-eight ring-leaders of this band to public execution, and obliged the rest to give hostages for their better behaviour in time-coming. Thus he returned crowned with laurels, and was immediately created earl of Marr, and in the February following he was made earl of Moray, with the universal approbation of all good men. Some thought this act of the queen was intended by her to conciliate his affections, and make him of her party. About this time he married a daughter of the earl of Marshal, according to Knox, (Buchanan says, the earl of March); the marriage was made publicly in the church of Edinburgh; after the ceremony was over, the preacher (probably Mr. Knox) said to him, "Sir, the church of God hath received comfort by you, and by your labours unto this day; if you prove more saint therein afterward, it will be said that your wife hath changed your nature, &c."

It may be observed, that hitherto the nobility appeared very much united in their measures for promoting the interest of religion; this was soon at an end, for the noblemen at court broke out into factions: Among whom the earl of Bothwel, envying the prosperity of Moray, stirred up some feuds between him and the Hamiltons, which increased to that height, that they laid a plot for his life, which Bothwel took in hand to execute, while he was with the queen his sister at Falkland; but the earl of Arran detesting such an action, sent a letter privately to the earl of Moray discovering the whole conspiracy, by which he escaped that danger: Bothwel fled from justice into France, but his emissaries were not less active in his absence than they had been while he headed them in person, for another design was formed against his life, by one Gordon, while he was with the queen at Dumbarton. But this proved ineffectual also.

Soon after, the queen received letters from the pope and her uncles the Guises of France, requesting her to put the earl of Moray out of the way, because, they found by experience, that their interest in Scotland could not prosper while he was alive; upon this the faction against him became more insolent and appeared in arms: they were at first suppressed, but soon assembled again, to the number of eight hundred men: This body he was obliged to fight, with little more strength, in which he could confide, than an hundred horse; notwithstanding this disparity, by the divine blessing, he obtained a complete victory, killing of them a hundred and twenty, and taking a hundred prisoners, among whom were Huntly himself and his two sons; it is said he did not lose a single man. He returned to Aberdeen with the prisoners, late in the night, where he had appointed a minister of the gospel to meet him, with whom he returned thanks to God for such a deliverance, exceeding the expectations of all men.

The earl of Bothwel was soon after this recalled by the queen from France; upon his arrival, Moray accused him for his former treasonable practices, and commenced a process at law against him. Bothwel knew he could not stand an open scrutiny, but relied upon the queen's favour, which he knew he possessed in a very high degree, and which increased so much the more as her enmity to Moray on account of his popularity was augmented. This led her to join more warmly in the conspiracy with Bothwel against his life; a new plot was the result of their joint deliberations, which was to be executed in the following manner; Moray was to be sent for, with only a few attendants, to speak with the queen at Perth, where Lord Darnly (then in suit to her for marriage) was; they knew that Moray would speak his mind freely, upon which they were to quarrel with him, in the heat of which David Rizzio was to strike the first blow, and all the rest were to follow: But of this design also he got previous intelligence by a friend at the court, nevertheless he resolved to go, until advised by one Patrick Ruthven; he turned aside to his mother's house, and there staid till this storm was over also.

The earl of Moray foreseeing what would be the consequence of the queen's marriage with Lord Darnly[28], set himself to oppose it, but finding little attention paid to any thing he said on that subject in the convention of estates, he chose rather to absent himself for some time, and accordingly retired to the border, where he staid until the queen's marriage with Darnly was over.

The remarkable tragical events which succeeded, disgusted Moray more and more at the court; with these the public are well acquainted: The murder of Darnly, and Mary's after-marriage with the assassin of her husband, has occasioned too much speculation of late years, not to be known to every one in the least acquainted with the Scottish history. Moray now found it impossible to live at a court where his implacable enemy was so highly honoured; Bothwel insulted him openly; whereupon he asked leave of the queen to travel abroad, and she, being willing to get rid of him at all events, granted his desire, upon his promise not to make any stay in England. He went over to France, where he remained until he heard that the queen was in custody in Lochlevin, and that Bothwel had fled to Denmark; and then returned home. Upon his arrival he was made regent, by the joint consent of the queen and nobles, _anno_ 1567, during the young king's minority.

He entered on the exercise of his office as regent, in the spring following, and resolved with himself to make a tour through the whole kingdom to settle the courts of justice, to repair what was wrong, &c. But his adversaries the Hamiltons, perceiving, that by the prudence and diligence of this worthy nobleman, the interest of religion would be revived, than which nothing could be more disagreeable to them, who were dissipated and licentious in an extreme degree, they could not endure to be regulated by law, and never ceased crying out against his administration. They fixed up libels in different places, full of dark insinuations, by which it was understood that his destruction was meditating[29]. Some astrologers told him that he would not live beyond such a day; by which it appeared they were not ignorant of the designs formed against him. All this had no effect upon his resolution; his common reply was, That "he knew well enough he must die one time or other, and that he could not part with his life more nobly, than by procuring the public tranquillity of his native country." He caused summon a convention of estates to meet at Glasgow for the redress of some grievances, which that part of the country particularly laboured under.

But while he was thus engaged, he received intelligence that the queen had escaped from Lochlevin castle, and was come to Hamiltoun, where those of her faction were assembling with the utmost haste, whereupon a hot dispute arose in council, whether the regent, and his attendants should repair to the young king at Stirling, or stay and observe the motions of the queen and her party; but in the very time of these deliberations, a hundred chosen men arrived in town from Lothian, and many more from the adjacent country were approaching: This made them resolve to stay where they were, and refresh themselves for one day, after which they determined to march out and face the enemy. But the queen's army, being 6500 strong, resolved to make their way by Glasgow to lodge the queen in Dumbarton castle, and afterwards either to fight the regent, or protract the war at pleasure.

The regent being let into this design of the enemy, drew his army out the town, to observe which way they intended to pass; he had not above 4000 men; they discovered the queen's army passing along the south-side of the river Clyde. Moray commanded the foot to pass the bridge, and the horse to ford the river, and marched out to a small village, called Langside, upon the river Cart. They took possession of a rising ground before the enemy could well discover their intention, and drew up in the order of battle. The earls of Morton, Semple, Hume and Patrick Lindsay on the right, and the earls of Marr, Glencairn, Monteith with the citizens of Glasgow, were on the left, and the musqueteers were placed in the valley below. The queen's army approaching, a very brisk but short engagement ensued; the earl of Argyle, who was commander in chief of the queen's troops, falling from his horse, they gave way, so that the regent obtained a complete victory; but, by his clement conduct, there was very little blood spilt in the pursuit. The queen, who all the while remained with some horse at about the distance of a mile from the place of action, seeing the rout, escaped and fled for England, and the regent returned to Glasgow, where they returned thanks to God for their deliverance from popery and papists, who threatened to overturn the work of God among them. This battle was fought upon the 13th of May, 1568.

After this the regent summoned a parliament to meet at Edinburgh; which the queen's party laboured to hinder, with all their power. In the mean time, letters were received from the queen of England, requiring them to put off the meeting of parliament until she was made acquainted with the whole matter, for she said, She could not bear with the affront which her kinswoman said she had received from her subjects.--The parliament however assembled, and after much reasoning it was resolved to send commissioners to England to vindicate their conduct; but none consenting to undertake this business, the regent resolved upon going himself, and accordingly chose three gentlemen, two ministers, two lawyers, and Mr. George Buchanan to accompany him; and with a guard of 100 horse they set out, and arrived at York, the appointed place of conference, on the 4th of October. After several meetings with the English commissioners to little purpose, the queen called the regent up to London, that she might be better satisfied by personal conversation with him, about the state of these affairs. But the same difficulties stood in his way here as at York; he refused to enter upon the accusation of his sister the queen of Scots, unless Elizabeth would engage to protect the king's party, provided the queen was found guilty.

But, while matters were thus remaining in suspence at London, Mary had stirred up a new commotion in Scotland by means of one James Balfour, so that the regent found himself exceedingly embarrassed, and therefore resolved to bring the matter to a conclusion as soon as possible. After several interviews with the queen and council, in which the regent and his party supported the ancient rights of their country, and wiped off the aspersions many had thrown on themselves, which Buchanan narrates at large, book XIX, A decision was given in their favours, and the regent returned home loaded with honours by Elizabeth, and attended by the most illustrious of the English court, escorted by a strong guard to Berwick, and arrived at Edinburgh on the 2d of February, where he was received with acclamations of joy, particularly by the friends of the true religion.

During his administration, many salutary laws in favour of civil and religious liberty, were made, which rendered him more and more the object of popish malice. At last they resolved at all events to take his life; the many unsuccessful attempts formerly made, only served to render them more bold and daring. Though the queen was now at a distance, yet the found means to encourage her party, and perhaps the hope of delivering her at length, gave strength to their resolution. One James Hamilton of Bothwel-haugh, nephew to the arch-bishop of St. Andrews, incited by his uncle and others, undertakes to make away with the regent, when a convenient opportunity offered itself: He first lay in wait for him at Glasgow, and then at Stirling, but both failed him; after which, he thought Linlithgow the most proper place for perpetrating that execrable deed; his uncle had a house near the regent's, in which he concealed himself, that he might be in readiness for the assassination. Of this design the regent got intelligence likewise, but paid not that regard to the danger he was exposed to, which he should; and would go no other way than that in which it was suspected the ambush was laid; he trusted to the fleetness of his horse in riding swiftly by the suspected place; but the great concourse of people who crouded together to see him, stopped up the way. Accordingly, he was shot from a wooden balcony, the bullet entering a little below the navel, came out at the reins, and killed the horse of George Douglas behind him: The assassin escaped by a back-door. The regent told his attendants that he was wounded, and returned to his lodgings; it was at first thought the wound was not mortal, but his pain increasing, he began to think of death. Some about him told him, That this was the fruit of his lenity, in sparing so many notorious offenders, and among the rest his own murderer; but he replied, "Your importunity shall not make me repent my clemency." Having settled his private affairs, he committed the care of the young king to the nobles there present, and without speaking a reproachful word of any, he departed this life on the 24d of January, 1570. according to Buchanan, 1571. but according to Spotiswood, 1569.

Thus fell the earl of Moray (whom historians ordinarily call, The good regent) after he had escaped so many dangers: He was certainly a worthy governor. Both Buchanan and Spotswood give him the following character: "His death was lamented by all good men, who loved him as the public father of his country, even his enemies confessed his merit when dead; they admired his valour in war, his ready disposition for peace, his activity in business, in which he was commonly very successful; the divine favour seemed to shine on all his actions; he was very merciful to offenders, and equitable in all his decisions. When the field did not call for his presence, he was busied in the administration of justice; by which means the poor were not oppressed, and the terms of law-suits were shortened.--His house was like a holy temple; after meals he caused a chapter of the bible to be read, and asked the opinions of such learned men as were present upon it, not out of a vain curiosity, but from a desire to learn, and reduce to practice what it contained[30]." In a word, he was both in his public and private life, a pattern worthy of imitation, and happy would it be for us, that our nobles were more disposed to walk in the paths which he trode;--for, "Above all his virtues, which were not a few, he shined in piety towards God, ordering himself and his family in such a sort as did more resemble a church than a court; for therein, besides the exercise of devotion, which he never omitted, there was no wickedness to be seen, nay not an unseemly or wanton word to be heard. A man truly good, and worthy to be ranked amongst the best governors, that this kingdom hath enjoyed, and therefore to this day honoured with the title of _The good Regent_[31]."

_The Life of Mr. JOHN KNOX._

Mr. Knox was born in Gifford near Haddington in East Lothian, in the year 1505. His father was related to the antient house of Ranferlie. When he left the grammar school, he was sent to the university of St. Andrews, to study under Mr. John Mair, (a man of considerable learning at that time), and had the degree of master of arts conferred upon him, while very young. He excelled in philosophy and polemical divinity, and was admitted into church orders before the usual time appointed by the canons. Then laying aside all unnecessary branches of learning, he betook himself to the reading of the antients, particularly Angustine's and Jerome's works, with whom he was exceedingly pleased. He profited considerably by the preaching of Thomas Guilliam, a black friar, of sound judgment and doctrine; his discourses led him to study the holy scriptures more closely, by which his spiritual knowledge was increased, and such a zeal for the interest of religion begotten in him, as he became the chief instrument in accomplishing the primitive reformation.

He was a disciple of Mr. George Wishart (as the reader has already seen in the account of his life), which procured him the hatred of the Popish clergy, who could not endure that light which, discovered their idolatrous darkness.

After the death of cardinal Beaton, he retired into the castle of St. Andrews, where he was confined for some time, but the castle being obliged to surrender to the French, he became their prisoner, and was sent aboard the gallies, from whence he made his escape about the year 1550, and went to England, where he preached for several years in Berwick, Newcastle and London, with great applause; his fame at last reached the years of king Edward VI. who offered him a bishopric, which he rejected, as contrary to his principles.

During his stay in England, he was called before the council, and required to answer the following questions:

1. Why he refused the benefice provided for him at London?

2. Whether he thought that no Christian might serve in the ecclesiastical ministration, according to the laws and rites of the realm of England?

3. If kneeling at the Lord's table was not indifferent?

To the first he said, That his conscience witnessed to him that he might profit more in some other place than in London. To the second, That many things needed reformation in the ministry of England, without which no minister did or could discharge his duty before God; for no minister in England had authority to separate the leprous from the whole, which was a chief part of his office, and that he refused no office which might in the least promote God's glory and the preaching of Christ's gospel. And to the third he replied, That Christ's action was most perfect, that it was most safe to follow his example, and that kneeling was a human invention. The answer which he gave to this question, occasioned a considerable deal of altercation betwixt the council and him. There were present the bishops of Canterbury and Ely, the lord treasurer, the earls of Northampton, Shrewsbury, &c. the lord chamberlain and the secretaries: After long reasoning with him, he was desired to take the matter into farther consideration, and so was dismissed.

After the death of king Edward, he retired to Geneva, but soon left that place and went to Francfort, upon the solicitation of the English congregation there; their letter to him was dated September 24th, 1554. While he was in this city, he wrote his admonition to England, and was soon involved in troubles, because he opposed the English liturgy, and refused to communicate after the manner it enjoined. Messrs Isaac and Parry, supported by the English doctors, not only got him discharged to preach, but accused him before the magistrates of high treason against the emperor's son Philip and the queen of England, and to prove the charge, they had recourse to the above-mentioned admonition, in which they alledged he had called the one little inferior to Nero, and the other more cruel than Jezebel. But the magistrates perceiving the design of his accusers, and fearing lest he should some way or other fall into their hands, gave him secret information of his danger, and requested him to leave the city, for they could not save him if he should be demanded by the queen of England in the emperor's name; and having taken the hint, he returned to Geneva.

Here he wrote an admonition to London, Newcastle and Berwick; a letter to Mary dowager of Scotland; an appeal to the nobility, and an admonition to the commons of his own country; and his first blast of the trumpet, &c. He intended to have blown this trumpet three times, if queen Mary's death had not prevented him; understanding that an answer was to be given to his first blast, he deferred the publication of the second, till he saw what answer was necessary for the vindication of the first.