Chapter II: Summary (1)

Delay of the coronation of Mary of Lorraine--She resolves to
work the Crawfurd-muir gold mine--Her father sends her Lorraine
miners--Her entry into Edinburgh--Her mother sends her a second
band of miners--Her mother-in-law’s remarks--The Queen sets
out on progress to the Highlands--Anger at the King’s delay in
meeting her--His letter of explanation--The Queen goes with
him to hunt in the Highlands--Her new crown from the gold of
the mine, &c.--Her miners paid and sent home--Henry VIII’s
message to her--Her reception of Sir Ralph Sadler--The Queen’s
coronation--She takes her chamber--The King’s uneasiness at her
absence, and horrid dream--Birth of her second son--Deaths of
both her sons--Grief of the Queen and James V.--Queen Margaret
Tudor consoles them--The Queen goes in progress to Aberdeen with
King James--Long mourning for her children--Discontented at
the King’s absence--His letters to her--War with England--The
Queen’s pedestrian pilgrimage--Hopes of offspring--Takes her
chamber at Linlithgow--King’s letter to her describing his
illness--Disaster of his army at Solway--His sickness and mortal
grief--The Queen expects the birth of another heir to Scotland.

Mary of Lorraine had been Queen-consort more than a year, and had borne to her royal lord “a fair life-like son,” yet she had not received the distinction of the crown-matrimonial of Scotland. It is evident that the beauteous descendant of Charlemagne did not approve of the regalia of Scotland sufficiently to wish to exhibit it before the crowds of her countrymen who meant to flock to her court at the period of her consecration.

Hitherto the famous gold mine of Scotland at Crawfurd-muir, the produce of which had excited such sensation at James V.’s nuptial feast, when he wedded Magdalene of France, had never been worked scientifically. From the secret intelligence gained by Wharton, Lord Warden of the Marches, for the information of the English Court,[664] it may be learned that native gold had formed important items in the Scotch treasury in the times of James IV. and the Regent Albany; but it had merely been gathered up in lumps, or washed from the soil, near the supposed mine at Crawfurd-muir. It was reserved for the enterprise of a queen desirous of a new and splendid crown to develop the mineral riches of Scotland; for this purpose she requested her mother and father to send her miners from her own country, and it may be remembered that La Haute-Lorraine was the principal mining district in France.[665]

The Queen’s undertaking of working the Scotch gold mine now forms a prominent feature in the journal of that royal Compotus which aids us in throwing some light on the manners and customs of the era.[666] Nothing is more worthy of the attention of enlightened minds than comparisons between the infant struggles of science, and its gigantic progression in the present day.

The cost of the Queen’s miners, if the whole of it is charged in her husband’s expense-book, did not amount to a hundredth part of the treasure realized. The royal pair were, therefore, fully justified, if they wished for splendid ornaments on a grand ceremonial day, in adapting the natural product of their realm for that purpose, instead of expending a large and irrecoverable capital in a foreign land for baubles. Moreover, if the miners sent from France carried some portion of their earnings away with them, they could not help leaving behind them a certain portion of their knowledge for the benefit of Scotland.

The Queen made her first state-entry into Edinburgh June 10, 1539--on the anniversary of St. Margaret’s day. “Her Grace came in, attended by all the nobility in procession, first at the West Port, and rode down the High-_gait_ Street to the Abbey of Holyrood-house, with great sports played to her Grace through all parts of the town. Both the King and Queen were honorably received, in the castle, and in the town, and also in the palace; where they were propined richly by the provost and community of the town, both with spices and wine, gold and silver; and also great triumphs, farces, and plays made unto the Queen’s Grace at the expenses of the said town.”[667]

Mary returned to St. Andrews in July, where she spent the summer. In that month her Lorraine miners landed there, for the following entry occurs in the compotus of James V.--

“Certain expenses disbursed in convoying the miners furth of St.
Andrews to Edinburgh, quhilk came fra the Queen’s Grace’s father
(Claud, Duke of Guise), for hired horses to them and their
expenses, 23_s._ 10_d._”

The royal mining adventure was conducted with proper caution. The Queen obtained the assistance of an English miner, who, at the risk of his sovereign’s vengeance, “came forth from England and passed to Crawfurd-muir to _vesy_ (view) the mynd,” for the consideration of £22. John Mossman, the ingenious artificer in goldsmith’s work to the court of Scotland, was the person who had the superintendence of the Lorraine workmen. His expenses commenced with the following notice:--

“Item, to John Mossman to make the miners’ expenses that came
_forth from Lorraine_ in passing to _vesy_ (view) the
mine.”[668]

After these preliminaries, the royal pair proceeded with a degree of regularity and earnestness in their mining undertakings which will excite some surprise in those who refuse to give people, in the medieval ages, the slightest credit for knowledge or sagacity in the great business of modern life--that of gold-hunting. The royal journal notes that, in August, 1539, was incurred expense for “the miners that came forth of France fra the Queen’s moder.” Thus the Queen’s father, Claud, Duke of Guise, sent one party of miners from Lorraine in the preceding spring; and another party was sent from France, in August, from his duchess, the Queen’s mother, Antoinette de Bourbon. These French miners did not work with common candles in the mine; James V. was at the expense of providing them with a species of light of a safer kind, called “_work-lumeys_,” which, it is noted, was on purpose for them “to work in the mine.” He likewise paid for their expenses “in passing and _vesying_ (viewing) the mines, and coming again to Edinburgh, and passing again to the said mine. John Mossman’s ticket, given thereupon, bears the sum in all, £15 11_s._”[669] It will be owned that the manner of entering the items of “John Mossman’s ticket” has a very business-like appearance.

An interpreter was provided for the Queen’s French miners, being “ane Scottish boy that speaks French, quhilk passit with the French miners to Crawfurd-muir, to serve them till they get the Scotch language--the costs of the boy, 20_s._”[670] The produce of precious ore which the Queen’s workmen raised from Crawfurd-muir does not appear in the royal Compotus kept by Kirkaldy of Grange for some weeks; meantime many matters of general interest are recorded therein. Charities of the most judicious kind, outlay for the encouragement of the arts, together with expenses for warlike ammunition,[671] mark the occupations of James Stuart and his consort at that happy period of their lives.

The royal musical band is remembered both for fees and sustenance.

“To the four minstrels that play on the viols, for their yearly
pension, paid them quarterly, £200.

“Item, to the twa minstrels that play upon the _Swesch
talburn_, £50.

“Item, to four minstrels that play on the trempets of war,
£100.”[672]

Whether Scots pounds or otherwise, the salaries are high, for the Scots pound bore a respectable value in the days of James IV. and his son.

Although the Queen had borne a promising boy in the preceding May, the dowager, Margaret Tudor, and likewise the Scottish people, were importunate in their demands for more royal offspring. Queen Margaret murmured, in a letter to her brother Henry VIII., how her daughter-in-law had given out that she was likely to be again a mother, “but she is not, whereat the subjects of Scotland much grudgeth against her.”[673] This is the only complaint extant made by Queen Margaret of her daughter-in-law. It was untrue, as well as unjust, for the sons of James V. followed each other quickly.

A grand progress connected with hunting in the Highlands was projected by the royal pair in the autumn of 1539. The Queen made a stately entry into Dundee the 1st of September, 1539; she had spent the summer at St. Andrews, and visited occasionally a place called Pitlethy, which either we fail to recognize among the Scottish seats of royalty, or the orthography of the treasurer, James Kirkaldy of Grange, has disguised it. He states that--“September 1st, was given for freight, at the ferry of Dundee, for the gear that passed with the Queen’s Grace, 3_s._” Another entry proves that the Queen of Scotland made a particular toilet on the road before she entered. “Item, given for carrying the Queen’s wardrobe and coffers forth from Dundee to the place where her Grace put on her claiths ere her entrance in Dundee.”[674]

Mary of Lorraine expected her royal lord at Dundee according to promise. Three or four days passed by, but he came not; and the Queen, inspired with a feeling of jealousy on account of his absence, wrote him an angry letter. James answered it in French, to the following effect:--[675]

JAMES V. TO MARY OF LORRAINE, HIS QUEEN.

“I have received the letter which it pleased you to write to
me. I found it very strange, being ill as I have been for these
three days past.

“I entreat you to deem me a man of my word and promise, of which
you will never find me fail. The rest of my reply I shall bring
you myself immediately.

“Praying our Lord to give you long and happy life. Your son is
very well, God be thanked.

“I am your serviteur and friend,

“JAMES R.”[676]

The royal James was evidently resentful for reproaches without due deservings. The cause of his detention had been illness severe enough to fetter even his active movements. He shows, in his reply, the hauteur of the sovereign, and the sense of injury natural to a lover unjustly accused. In the absence of dates of time and place, the supposition may be hazarded that the Queen was sojourning at Dundee,[677] and that the King wrote from St. Andrews, as he mentions the young prince, who resided there during his short life.

There is a coincidence between the King’s complaints of illness and an ominous entry in the Compotus of September, 1539, which commences for that month thus--“Given ten pounds to Raphael, Frenchman, to send to Flanders for drugs for the King’s Grace,” The health of James V. had not been strong since 1537. In the summer of that year an accident befell him in Stirling park, where he had been flung violently from his horse when hunting.[678] He had bruised his side severely; but, with his usual high spirit, made light of the injury. The above letter, together with the entry in the Compotus, are the first indications of serious malady, occurring from time to time, many months before the heart-breaking disaster at Solway, which hastened the progress of disease.

The King’s illness evidently delayed the hunting some days. The Queen went with him to Stirling Castle, from whence they adjourned to the Highlands, as may be seen by certain payments in the Compotus.

“Item, delivered to David Sibbald for carriage of the Queen’s
Grace and her ladies, coffers, and bedding, from Stirling Castle
to Glenarknay (Glenorchay), coming and ganging, and other
parts where her Grace traveled the said month, as his account
bears, £6 17_s._ 6_d._;” likewise, “Item, the 24th
day of September--Given to John Tennant to pay carriage-men
for ten horses, with bedding, forth of Stirling to the hunting
of Glenfynlaws, being forth (out) eight days, ilk (each) horse
2_s._; and seven horses forth from Dunblane to the same
hunting, £13 12_s._”

The preparations for the coronation of Mary of Lorraine commenced as early as October 5th, when thirty-five ounces of “gold of the mine” were given out from the royal stores “for making the Queen’s crown.” The goldsmith was paid for fashioning and working the gold, and furnishing stones to set therein, ninety pounds.[679] Soon after, a crown was made for the King of the Crawfurd-muir gold. The notation of the payment made to the goldsmith “for making and fashioning the King’s crown, weighing three pounds ten ounces weight--gold of the mine being given out to him--forty-one ounces and a quarter, the goldsmith being paid for his working it £30.” In this royal crown were set twenty-two stones, of which three were great garnets, and one great _ammerot_ (emerald). “The crown,” adds the Compotus, “was delivered to the King’s Grace at Holyrood House, the 13th day of February following.” Thus the fact is undeniable, that the crown of Scotland is made from gold ore which was the native product of the country.[680]

The entries now become numerous of goldsmith’s work for fashioning ornaments which were to be worn at the approaching coronation. The metal of these jewels is especially noted as “gold of the mynd.” It is a circumstance worthy of remark, that, as soon as a sufficient quantity was procured for this purpose, the miners were sent back with payment and liberal rewards to their own country. The entries of their payment thus occur:--

“Delivered to George Carmichaell, son to the captain of
Crawfurd, for expenses made on the twa French miners, being
working upon the _mynde_ of Crawfurd-muir, £15 15_s._”

“Item, the 9th day of October--Given to the said miners, at
their departing to France, at the King’s command, £80.”

The royal James, meanwhile, continued to provide a great store of costly gifts as presents for his guests and courtiers. Thomas Rynde, his goldsmith, received of him, at one payment, £282 3_s._, “for making chains, tablets, rings, carcanets, chevrons, and other golden work, as his account particularly bears, deliverit to the King’s Grace in Linlithgow.”

“Item, the 15th day of December--Given to the said goldsmith for
making, and the fashion of ‘ane _mertrick heid_ and feit’
(feet) enamaled made of gold of the mine, weighing five ounces
and a half, delivered to the Queen’s Grace.”

The King and Queen had bracelets made of the same gold. The Queen had a rich belt wrought by the goldsmith out of nineteen and a half ounces of this gold, which belt was clasped with a large sapphire. The expense of raising the gold from the mine at Crawfurd-muir seems to have scarcely exceeded one hundred pounds.

The Queen kept court with James V. at Holyrood, Christmas 1539–40. The royal accounts continue replete with the new dresses and jewelry, and other preparations for her consecration.

“Given to the sacristan of the King’s chapel, for carriage
of the chapel-gear from Stirling to Linlithgow, at Yule
(Christmas), and from Linlithgow for Edinburgh, for the Queen’s
coronation, £5 6_s._ 8_d._”

The King presented two of his Queen’s maids with new gowns. “Sibella Drummond was given, at the King’s Grace’s command,” says Kirkaldy’s Compotus, “thirteen ells of black damask to make her ane gown; and Helen Ross had likewise a gown the King’s gift.” James presented Thomas Melville’s wife with seven ells of fine French cloth, to make her a gown and kirtle. This present seems to be in reward “for keeping of certain pets, and nourishing of the same.”[681] The French children that kept the Queen’s mules were new clad in whole coats and half-coats of hose of French brown.

John Patterson charged thirty-four shillings for a case for the King’s new crown; and Thomas Arthur had half an ell of rich purple velvet given to him to make a cap for the inside of this new crown. John Mossman, the King’s goldsmith, received thirty-one ounces of silver to make a scepter for the Queen against her coronation; and four rose-nobles were given out of the treasury to gild the scepter. The fashion of the Queen’s scepter, and the making, cost as much as £7 15_s._ Other sums were expended on entertaining the Englishman who came (Feb. 4, 1539–40) to demand a safe-conduct for “Rauffe Sadillaris.”

In fact, in the early part of the year 1539–40, Henry VIII. dispatched Sir Ralph Sadler on an embassy to the court of Scotland, for the twofold purpose of destroying the credit of James’s favorite minister, Cardinal Beton, by showing certain intercepted letters from that ecclesiastical premier to his agent at Rome, which had fallen into the hands of the English, and of endeavoring to persuade James to replenish his exchequer by seizing all the abbey-lands and church property. Sir Ralph is particularly enjoined, in his instructions, to visit and compliment the Queen, in his royal master’s name, “on the good, honorable, and virtuous life, which, from report, his majesty understood subsisted between her and the King his nephew;”[682] affording thereby a testimonial to the matrimonial felicity of James V. and his second consort.

Sadler informs Henry that he had an honorable reception, the Herald Rothesay being sent to welcome him and arrange for his lodging and accommodations; and two days after, Sir William Ogilvy, Captain Borthwick, and Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, the Lord Lion, came to conduct him into the King of Scotland’s presence. They brought him first into the Chapel Royal, where, as early as nine in the morning, he saw the King kneeling under his canopy of state, surrounded by his ministers and nobles, at his devotions. Room being made for the English ambassador to pass through the press of people of all degrees who thronged the chapel, he was conducted into a seat immediately behind the King. When the service was ended, King James rose from his knees; “and so soon as he saw me,” says his excellency, “he came from under his cloth of state, and full gently embraced me and welcomed me. I said that your Majesty commanded me to make your Grace’s most hearty commendations, and therewith presented unto him your Majesty’s letters. ‘Now, I pray you,’ quoth he, ‘how doth his good Grace?’ I answered, ‘that your Grace, thanked be God, was healthful and merry.’” The mirthfulness imputed to Henry by his politic representative was certainly very far from being a true description of his state of mind, which was at that time in a most splenetic access of moody discontent, on account of his disappointment in the personal appearance and manners of his newly-wedded consort, Anne of Cleves--circumstances that rendered the English Schriar perhaps more than ever disposed to envy his nephew the happiness he enjoyed with Mary of Lorraine, whom he had so eagerly coveted for his fourth queen. After many courtesies had been exchanged between King James and Sadler, his majesty appointed the morrow forenoon for giving him formal audience. “So,” continues the ambassador, “he made me a countenance, and committed me to them that were appointed to keep me company, and so went to his chamber, as they said, to dine. Then quoth Captain Borthwick to me, If ye will tarry here in the chapel any season, ye shall see the Queen come to mass.’ ‘By my troth,’ quoth I, and I have in charge to make the King’s Majesty my master’s hearty commendations to both the Queens here’ (meaning Margaret the Queen-mother, and Mary the Queen-consort), ‘but I have forgotten to ask license of the King to visit and see them; and therefore I will not tarry now, but shall take another time for the same.’ Borthwick went to inform the King, and inquire his pleasure therein; but presently returned, bringing word ‘that the Queen was something _crazed_, and the King thought it better that he should defer his presentation till the next day.’”[683] The Queen’s indisposition was merely personal illness.

“The next day, being Friday,” pursues Sadler, “between nine and ten of the clock, they came all to me again, and said ‘that the King had sent them for me to come to his Grace.’ According whereto, I addressed myself with them to the court, and there they brought me again to the chapel, where the Queen, the King’s wife, was hearing a sermon in French, accompanied with a number of ladies and gentlemen. The King was not there; but, as I perceived, I was brought there on purpose to see the Queen, and to salute her from your Grace. I was placed in the same seat that I had the day before; and when the sermon was done, Captain Borthwick told me ‘that the King’s pleasure was I should speak with the Queen;’ and therewith the chief herald, Lindsay, went to the Queen and spake to her what I knew not, and then came to me and said ‘that the King had appointed me then to salute the Queen, according to my request the day before.’ Wherefore I repaired to her, and said ‘that your Majesty had given me in charge to make unto her your Grace’s most hearty commendations, and to congratulate the good, virtuous, and honorable life between her and her husband, of the continuance whereof your Grace would be most joyful and glad, as the proximity of blood between your Grace and your nephew, her husband, with the perfect amity between the same, did require.’ She answered, ‘that she was much bound to your good Grace that it pleased your Majesty to remember her with your gracious commendations, and that she did right humbly thank your Grace therefore; and what she could do to the interest of the amity betwixt the King her husband and your Majesty, she would not fail to set forth the same from time to time with all her power.’ The ambassador politely replied, ‘that such furtherers as she was might do much good to both parties, in preserving the friendly relations that already subsisted.’” She prayed him, in return, “to make her right humble commendations to his sovereign, with assurance that the continuance of the amity should not fail by God’s grace,” and so dismissed him.[684]

From the same source we learn that the conduct of Mary of Lorraine, as a daughter-in-law, was so perfect as even to satisfy that notorious grumbler, Margaret Tudor, the Queen-dowager, who told his excellency “how well she was treated, and much made of by the new Queen.”

The following Sunday morning, as early as nine o’clock, Sir Ralph Sadler was conducted, by the heralds and officers of the guard, from his lodgings in the city of Edinburgh to the court at Holyrood, where, being brought into the Chapel Royal, he found the Queen again listening to a sermon. Whether Sadler had any taste for such morning occupations, in the cold month of February, or not, etiquette required him to tarry till it was over; and by that time six fine horses, which he was commissioned by his royal master, Henry VIII., to present as a token of his regard to King James, had arrived. Sadler was then brought into the presence of the Scottish sovereign, who, when informed of the present, and that the horses were in the court, replied: “‘I thank the King’s Grace, mine uncle, with all mine heart. Come ye on with me; we will go see them.’ And so he went into another chamber, where, out of a window, he looked into a fair court, and thither were the horses brought, which the King liked exceeding well, and praised wondrously. Christopher Erringston did ride them, one after another, afore him, and handled them very well. I did set them well forth,” continues Sadler, “both for their kinds and ages. He (James) praised much the Barbary horse and the Jennet; ‘and,’ quoth he, ‘I like them the better, because they be of mine uncle’s own brood. If the Barbary horse,’ quoth he, ‘were bigger, he were much too good; but, by my troth, he is a bonny beast, and so be they all.’ ‘Sir,’ quoth I, ‘your Grace may be sure that the King’s Majesty, your uncle, would not send them to you unless he thought them a meet present for you.’ ‘By my soul,’ quoth he, ‘I thank much his Grace; and I assure you, his gentle remembrance and kindness is more pleasure and comfort to me than all the gifts and goods in the world;’ adding, that if the ambassador ‘would call to mind any thing King Henry took delight in or desired, between that place and Turkey, he would do his utmost to procure it for him, and that any thing within his realm should be at his command.’ Then he turned to his nobles, and began to praise the horses, and every man praised them much. Immediately after came in the master of the household, and told the King that his dinner was on the board. Wherewith his Grace went forth to his dining-chamber, washed, and sat down: and so,” continues Sadler, “bade the lords take me with them to dinner. The Cardinal (Beton) took me by the arm, and had me to the chamber where the lords used to dine. They made me sit at the highest place, and entertained me very gently.”[685]

Many, of course, were the deceitful compliments that passed on both sides. Sadler’s principal errand in that court was to destroy James’s confidence in his ecclesiastical premier; and well would it have been for Mary of Lorraine if he had succeeded in that object, and, by effecting the fall of the ruthless primate before she became entangled in his meshes, and identified with his cruel measures against the Reformers, averted the evils and enmities that were subsequently entailed on her and hers by his crimes. Unfortunately, Sadler’s attack on the character of Beton left him in a stronger position than it found him. One of those dramatic scenes and dialogues which, although they enliven history, are rarely related by historians of modern times, took place between the English envoy and the Scottish sovereign, when the former re-entered the privy-chamber after dinner. King James afforded Sadler no greater privacy, for conference, than that of withdrawing with him from the diplomatic circle into a window--one of those deep embowed windows such as may still be seen in the state apartments of the ruined palace of Linlithgow, which have been intended for convenient little tribunes, where not only two persons, but a whole party, might hold conferences apart from the rest.

Through all the ceremonious prolixity with which the English statesman relates the particulars of the colloquy to his own sovereign, the characteristic grace and frankness of the Scottish King’s manners, seasoned occasionally with a sly dash of satire, is apparent. “I gave humble thanks,” says Sadler, “to his Grace, for the entertainment it pleased him to use to such a poor man as I. ‘Oh,’ quoth he, ‘I will not use you as a stranger, nor none that cometh from the King mine uncle. I know ye are a good servant to his Grace. I would all that had come betwixt him and me would report the truth always as I know ye have done, for I know that untrue reports of me to mine uncle have caused him to think unkindness of me where I was without blame.’” Sadler told him, that such as wished no good to either, would be ever devising evil tales on either side, to stir up unkindness betwixt them; for, added he emphatically, “I think there be some that would not have you over great friends.” “Marry,” exclaimed James, “I beshrew their hearts, whosoever they be; but,” and he strengthened his asseveration with an oath, “he is not in Scotland that dare bring me an evil tale of mine uncle, nor say any thing against his honor; for, may I ken any such within my realm, of whatsoever degree he be, he shall have no less punishment than if he faulted to us, for we shall ever take his (King Henry’s) cause as our own.”[686] Then Sadler protested his sovereign’s fatherly affection to King James, and, as a proof of it, referred to the information he had given of the Cardinal’s correspondence with Rome. James replied, “that he had discussed the matter with the Cardinal, who had shown him the copies of the said letters, and he could find nothing amiss in them.” Sadler slyly insinuated the possibility of some deception having been practiced, by saying, “Well, sir, if your Grace do see the original, then shall ye perceive if the double (copy) and it agree.” “Have ye the original here upon you?” inquired King James. “Yea, that I have,” was the response. “Take it out privily,” cried King James, “as though it were some other paper, and let me see it.” “The Cardinal was in the chamber,” observes Sadler, “and therefore think I he bade me take it out secretly. I took it forth of my bosom, and he read it softly every word, from the beginning to the end. And in one place of the letter, the Cardinal biddeth his agent ‘solicit that nothing might be done that might in any wise irritate the King’s Grace and his council against the liberties of holy kirk, considering the time is perilous.’ When the King did read those words, quoth he, ‘They dread me;’”--meaning his hierarchy and priesthood. “Sir,” rejoined Sadler, “they have their own abuses, and they fear lest your Grace should find them.” “By my troth,” said King James, “if they do not well, ye shall ken I will _redress_ them.” When he had read the letter through, he gave it back to Sadler, telling him he had seen the copy of it and found nothing amiss. Sadler vainly endeavored to construe certain passages in it into treason; but not only did James excuse, but appear to approve of every thing his minister had said and done. Then Sadler proceeded to tender King Henry’s advice, that he should follow his example touching the suppression of the monastic establishments, or at least some of them--repeating the tempting observation which he had made in a former conference, of the great gain and profit that should accrue to the Crown, by taking the lands to the increase of his revenue. But James and his churchmen had come to a mutual understanding on that point, and he, being assured of their willingness to pay well for their security, replied with his usual gay frankness, “By my troth, I thank God I have enough to live on, and if we _mister_ (need) any thing that they have, we may have it at our pleasure.” Sadler here objected to the idle lives of the monks, their vices and abuses; but the monarch laughingly interrupted him, by swearing “that he would redress those that were naught, and make them behave according to their profession.” “Sir,” retorted Sadler, “it will be hard to do;” but James, intimating that he was equal to that or any other department of his government, changed the discourse, and soon after dismissed him, the manner of which was very courtly, as described by Sadler, who says, “And so he gave me a gentle countenance with his cap in his hand, and bade Walter Ogilvie and Sir John Campbell to accompany me to my lodging.” In a former conference, Sadler had intimated to the royal Scot, “that King Henry had heard it reported that he had been turning his attention to the profits derivable from sheep, and other such mean things,” which his august uncle considered derogatory to the honor and dignity of his regal vocation; and thought it much better that he should enrich himself with the spoils of the Church than the fleeces of the numerous flocks he had gathered together, and was employing officers of his own to tend on the waste crown-lands.[687] James, nettled by this family taunt, was betrayed into the weakness of denying the truly wise and paternal policy he was pursuing, in setting his subjects the example of attending to a branch of statistics which had proved a source of wealth in England and Flanders. “In good faith,” said he, “I have no sheep, nor occupy no such things--but such as have _tacks_ (leases) and farms of me, peradventure, have such numbers of sheep and cattle as ye speak of going upon my lands, which I have no regard to. But for my part, by my troth, I never knew what I had of mine own, nor yet do. I thank God I am able to live well enough of that which I have, and I have friends that will not let me _mister_ (want). There is a good old man in France,” continued he (affectionately referring to the parent of his late well-beloved and unforgotten Magdalene, Francis I.), “my good father the King of France--I must needs call him so, for I am sure he is like a father to me--that will not see me want any thing that lies in him to help me with. Nevertheless, I shall seek nothing of any man but love and friendship; and for my part, I shall hold my word with all princes, and for no man living shall I stain mine honor for any worldly good, by the grace of Jesu.”[688]

At this very time, it seems there were ten thousand sheep feeding in Ettrick Forest, under the conduct of Andrew Bell, the King’s shepherd, going as securely as if they had been feeding within the bounds of one of his own royal parks in Fifeshire.[689] He had so vigorously exerted his energies for the redress of wrong and robbery, either from the Highland Caterans or the Border thieves, that at this period of his reign the Scotch proverb, “The rush-bush keeps the cow,” was on the lips of every good-wife in the length and breadth of his realm.[690] It was under the auspices of this monarch that the seed was sown and fostered of the woolen manufactures, which in the fullness of time were destined to become a source of profitable employment to the population, both male and female, of Scotland. No wonder that the jealous Tudor tyrant looked on with an unfriendly eye, and endeavored to persuade his royal neighbor and kinsman to abandon the culture of the golden fleece, which might one day enable Scotland to compete with England in her manufactures.

James was firm in replying to the reiterated instances of Sadler, that he would not touch the Church property. Moreover, he was in some haste to rid himself of the presence of that shrewd English diplomatist, who, in his report to Henry VIII., says--“For as I understand the King here intendeth to dispatch me away shortly, because he would go abroad in his realm about his pastime--whereunto they say he is marvelously given, and specially to hawking, both to the heron and the river, and, as they say, he is a great toiler and laborer at the same. It is told me that he lieth here purposely till I be dispatched, because I should not follow him no further into his realm.”

The coronation of Mary of Lorraine as Queen-consort of Scotland took place Feb. 27, 1539–40. She was crowned by the Abbot of Aberbrothock,[691] no other than David, Cardinal Beton.

The Queen took her chamber at Stirling Castle not long after her consecration. In the ensuing April she bore a second fair son to James V. Her royal lord was ill at ease in her absence. Feverish nights of insomnolency, or dreams worse than the most complete unrest, afflicted him during his sojourn in the Palace of Linlithgow, where he had taken up his abode. Either there must have been some person capable of a course of long and skillful deception at that palace and its neighboring abbey, or else those strange coincidences, which give rise, in vulgar parlance, to the term “haunted,” were remarkable there. Be this as it may, it is certain that James V. was not less startled by supernatural terrors at Linlithgow Palace than his royal sire had been in its Abbey church, twenty-eight or nine years previously.

The old tempter of his youth, Sir James Hamilton of Finart, the man who had previously borne a questionable character in connection with his mother, Queen Margaret[692]--the same who had slain the Earl of Lennox, and who was deeply implicated in the disgraceful management of the King’s intrigue with the Lady of Lochleven--had not long before been executed, on a charge of conspiracy against his life. Whatsoever were the previous crimes of this man, it is generally agreed that he was innocent of the charge for which he suffered. Probably such was, when too late, the impression on the mind of the King, for it was the shadowy form of Sir James Hamilton that troubled his rest.

The King thought he was still in his own apartment at Linlithgow, sleeping beneath the state-alcove, when suddenly within the curtains, at his pillow, stood the specter of Sir James Hamilton, brandishing a naked sword. The heavy moans of the King alarmed the attendants who slept near him. They hastened to his aid; he was found sitting up in bed, with horror imprinted on his countenance. “I have just seen the bastard of Arran,”[693] said he; “he stood even now at my bolster, and menacing me with a drawn sword, with which he smote off first my right arm, and then my left, telling me he would come back anon, and finish me.”[694]

Sore dismayed by this terrific fit of nightmare, which had assumed the guise of a spectral visitation and assault, King James thus revealed the cause of his disturbance to his gentlemen of the bedchamber. They, according to the superstition of the times, regarded it as ominous of ill, and predicted that it would be quickly followed by tidings of startling import--a prediction that, by a singular coincidence, was fulfilled, for the morning’s light brought a messenger from St. Andrews, to communicate to the King the painful intelligence that his eldest son, Prince James, was so dangerously ill that serious apprehensions of his death were entertained. The royal father hastened to St. Andrews with all the speed his impetuous temperature could exert, but ere he arrived the young heir of Scotland had expired. While King James was in the first agony of this sudden bereavement, a post came from Stirling, where the Queen lay in childbed, to let him know that his second son, and sole surviving hope, the infant Duke of Albany, was also smitten with mortal sickness, and not expected to recover. James rode off to Stirling without a moment’s delay; but again he was too late: the princely babe had already breathed its last sigh.[695]

Heavy as were the tidings that awaited him at Stirling--for the child died before he could reach that town--far worse were those he brought from St. Andrews for the poor Queen in her lying-in chamber, who was mourning over the loss of her infant. Afflicting as such an event is always to a mother, it was not of course so severe a blow to her as the death of the elder Prince, who was nearly eleven months old; but the one calamity following upon the other rendered the twofold bereavement inexpressibly painful to her. The death of the two infant Princes “caused,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “great lamentation to be made in Scotland, but especially by the Queen their mother. Yet,” continues he, “the Queen comforted the King, saying ‘they were young enough, and God would send them more succession.’”[696]

The entry in the Compotus for “_serviettes_ (or napkins) of white taffety of twa threads, wherewith to hold the candles at my Lord Duke’s baptism, April 24th” (the child was named Robert or Arthur), and, soon after, another entry of “ane cape of lead, bought of Andrew Yare at Stirling for 14_s._, which my Lord Duke was buried in,” close the earthly accounts of these short-lived hopes of Scotland. The princely infants were buried on the same day, in the royal vault at Holyrood; “and there was more dolor in all the land for their death than ever there had been joy for their birth.”

The Queen-mother, Margaret Tudor, remained at Stirling with her son and his consort during the first effervescence of their grief. She wrote to her brother Henry VIII. some account of the matter, but under charge of secrecy:--[697]

“Pleaseth you, dearest brother, here hath been great
_displeasure_ (distress) for the death of the Prince and
his brother, both with the King my son and the Queen his wife;
wherefore I have done great diligence to put them in comfort,
and _is_ never from them, but ever in their company,
whereof they are very glad. Therefore I pray your Grace to hold
me excused that I write not at length of my matters at this
time, because I can get no leisure; but I trust ye will stand
my friend and loving brother, and that I get no hurt in nothing
that I write to your Grace, nor that ye will not write nothing
belonging to me, your sister, to the King my son, without I be
first advertised, and that it be with mine avise (my consent).
Praying your Grace, dearest brother, that it will please you to
do this for me, your sister, and I am, and shall be ever ready,
to do your Grace’s will and pleasure.

“But I am afeard that I put your Grace to great pain and travail
to read my oft writing, and mine evil hand, praying your Grace
to pardon me of the same; and that it will please you, dearest
brother, to keep secret any writings that I send, for other ways
it may do me great hurt, which I trust your Grace would not do
to me, your sister, seeing I am remaining in this realm, as God
knows, whom preserve your Grace. Written at Stirling the 12 of
May.

“Your loving Sister,
“MARGARET R.”

“To the King’s Grace, my dearest brother.”

Mary, though bereaved of the hopeful boys she had borne in such quick succession to King James, was not childless, for her first-born son continued to live and flourish, though far away, in his paternal castles of Amiens or Chasteaudun. He was now old enough to ask for his mother, and perhaps sufficiently intelligent to comprehend the reply of his attendants, that she had left him before he could remember her to be a Queen, and that one day he might be allowed to go and pay his duty to her in her royal court of Holyrood. How often must her heart have yearned after her absent one in the midst of all the pomp and pageantry of public games, and those unsatisfactory pleasures that have merriment but no joy!

In order to divert their minds from the painful loss they had sustained, the King and Queen made a progress through the principal towns in Scotland. Their first visit was to Perth, where the Queen was received very honorably, the principal nobles of that neighborhood hastening to testify their respect for her. From thence, accompanied by her royal husband, she proceeded to Aberdeen, where they were entertained with divers pageants and plays by the town, the new university,[698] and schools. They remained there fifteen days as the guests of the Bishop. Elaborate orations of welcome were addressed to the royal pair by the scholars and fellows at the colleges and schools, in Greek, Latin, and other languages; scientific exercises and philosophic discussions also took place on the occasion, all which were much commended both by the King and Queen, who appeared to appreciate the intellectual pleasures prepared for them by their learned and loyal lieges of Aberdeen.[699]

Mary of Lorraine was still in deep mourning for the loss of her infants, in November, 1540, when four yards of black velvet were given out of the King’s store to mend her chariot. It was for a new lining, and cost £11 4_s._ She spent December with the King at their favorite retirement of Falkland. Under the head of expenses disbursed upon the Queen’s Grace occur “fifteen ells of fine black lukis (which was Lucca or Luchese velvet), to be ane gown for her, costing £67 10_s._, sent to Falkland to her Grace.”[700]

At this period of mourning many superstitious observances are noted in the royal Compotus. The “gold of the mine” was again resorted to for the purpose of making a reliquary to “ane bone of St. Andrew.” The goldsmith, Mossman, likewise made a reliquary of fifteen ounces of silver for a bone of St. Mahago, and had withal “two rose-nobles to gild the same. Three names of _Jacobus Quintus_ with the King’s arms and crown above the head, and two unicorns bearing the same.”[701] The King’s new shooting-jacket was made of black velvet this year, he being still in mourning for his infant princes.

The dowager Queen, Margaret Tudor, was always on excellent terms with her daughter-in-law. She had been persuaded by her not only to be a zealous observer of the Roman Catholic rites, but had, out of respect for her good opinion, relinquished a third divorce, had taken Harry Stuart again, and lived decorously for the brief residue of her days. After Margaret’s death, something like a serious misunderstanding took place between James and his consort.

Mary of Lorraine had heard, from some tale-bearers at her court, that her royal husband meant to absent himself from her longer than she deemed requisite after the performance of his filial duties at the funeral of the deceased Queen. The tone of a letter written by this princess to recall her wanderer, can only be guessed at by his reply. James’s epistle is stormy, yet a love-letter. Few as the lines are, they imply love to her, indignation at certain mischief-makers, compliance with her will, denial of long absence, appointment for speedy return, and, above all, profession of being that _rara avis_--a humble husband.

“JAMES V. TO MARY OF LORRAINE, HIS CONSORT.[702]

“Perth, Dec., 1541.

“I have received the letter which it has pleased you to write
to me, for the which I thank you humbly; but those who told you
I would not quit this place have falsely lied, because I have
no thought but of being with you on Sunday. And touching my
mother’s things,[703] I will not forget. Entreating you not to
be so _thundering_[704] until you know the truth, praying
you to be of good cheer until my return, which will be on
Sunday, and praying our Lord to give you good life and long,

“Your humble husband,
“JAMES R.”

It is probable that the robe and laces mentioned by the King in his next letter had reference to his mother’s “_schois_,” or things.

“JAMES V. TO MARY OF LORRAINE, HIS CONSORT.

“Following your direction, I send you by this present bearer the
robe and laces which I had promised you to send. My very humble
commendations to your good Grace, praying you to take occasion
to treat me well, and to keep the promise you have made me, as
a woman of worth ought to do to him who always has deserved it,
and will all my life by the aid of God. Entreating our Lord to
give you good life and long,

“Your very humble husband,

“JAMES R.”

In all the letters of the royal James to Mary of Lorraine there is a love-quarrel to be made up, or anger to be averted. It is undeniable that he did not prosper much when absent from his Queen, which must plead her excuse for writing cross letters when he made his escape for too long a time from her side.

Henry VIII. continued importunate for James to give him the personal conference at York which he had evasively promised by Sir Ralph Sadler. It is stated by the writers of the period that James would have kept the engagement, had he not been effectually dissuaded from it by his subtile minister, Cardinal Beton.[705] Henry owed James ill-will for declining the hand of his daughter, Mary Tudor, after her legitimacy had been impugned, and still more so for carrying off the matrimonial prize, Mary of Lorraine, for which they had both contended. Since his unsuccessful suit to her, Henry had wedded and ridded himself of two wives--one by divorce, the other by the axe. Mary of Lorraine had not only proved the most irreproachable of wives, but she had borne two fair boys in less than two years after her marriage to James. Both these hopeful princes had, it is true, been cut off by sudden sickness and death, yet there was every prospect that she would, in the course of a few months, repair that loss, for her pregnancy was again publicly announced, to the great joy of King James and his people. Henry, who had not yet succeeded in obtaining a sixth consort to his mind, and was frantically desirous of more sons, sorely envied his nephew’s wedded felicity, in the possession of so fruitful a Queen. He might not, perhaps--considering what queer pranks he was wont to play in his love affairs--have hesitated to make her a widow again, if James V. had accepted his pressing invitation to meet him at York, which he again reiterated by Lord William Howard; but James was too wise to trust him.

Hostilities soon after commenced with England, in consequence of Henry causing the seizure of a rich Scotch merchant fleet, for which James demanded satisfaction with becoming spirit. Henry not only would not relinquish his prey, but, without any proclamation of war, sent Sir Robert Bowes with an army of three thousand men to make a raid into Scotland, and burn and spoil the small towns on the frontier. James dispatched the Earl of Huntley to repel the invaders, who defeated them with great loss at a place called Halden Brig, in the Merse, and took their leader and six hundred prisoners (August 24, 1542).[706] After this defeat, Henry sent forty thousand men, under the command of the Duke of Norfolk, who, guided and abetted by the Earl of Angus, Sir George Douglas, and other traitor Scots, carried fire and sword into the fair district of Tweeddale; but again James’s victorious general, Huntley, with inferior numbers, defeated and put the invading forces to flight. These successes naturally disposed the King of Scotland to make reprisals, by aggressions on the English border. His nobles were strongly opposed to this measure, and plainly told him they were not compelled to follow his banner out of his own realm; that their provisions were exhausted, and the season of the year too far advanced for the English campaign. James listened with fierce impatience to their objections, and retorted with sarcastic reflections on the change of spirit in Scotsmen who could allow their country to be insulted, and their villages burned, by the Duke of Norfolk and his followers, without daring to retaliate. He found they were determined not to fight against the foes of Scotland, but perfectly in the mood to react the scene of the bridge of Lauder on his confidential friends and adherents. Dissensions among the leaders of this revolt alone preserved the members of his cabinet from being butchered in cold blood, for disputes took place as to the selection of the victims whom to slay and whom to spare; or, to use the regretful expressions of Knox--“But because the Lords could not agree among themselves upon the persons that deserved punishment, for every man favored his friend, the whole escaped, and the purpose was opened unto the King.”[707] James was then glad to allow the armament to disperse in peace to their own homes, and with a swelling heart returned to Holyrood. He held his last council there on the 2d or 3d of November; his ecclesiastical premier took that opportunity of presenting to him a scroll, containing the names of more than a hundred of the principal nobles and gentlemen of Scotland who were either in the pay of England, enleagued with the Douglases in treasonable plots against his life, or tainted with heresy--the last accusation being, like the charge of sorcery, a convenient pretext for the perpetration of cruelty, spoil, and murder on persons inconvenient to the prevailing party in power. Appended to this scroll were the particulars of the possessions of the parties included in this sweeping denunciation. A similar paper had previously been presented to the King by the Cardinal and prelates, on James’s return from his memorable cruise round the Isles, after the first accouchement of his Queen, on which occasion, some of his prelates had ventured to represent what profit, in a pecuniary point of view, might arise to the Crown from so many rich forfeitures. But the high-spirited monarch replied, with a generous burst of indignant feeling, “Pack you, ye javellis;[708] get you to your charges, and reform your own lives, and be not instruments of discord betwixt my nobility and me, or else I avow to God I shall reform you, not as the King of Denmark, by imprisonment; neither yet as the King of England doth, by hanging and heading; but I shall reform you by sharp whingaris (meaning by the slash of the sword), if ever I hear such motion of you again.”[709]

James, at the period when he gave this stern rebuff to his Lords spiritual, contemplated setting about the much-needed work of reforming the abuses of the church, which had become far more intolerable in Scotland than in England. But a sovereign who engages in a crusade like that should enter the arena with clean hands, and singleness of heart; and James, by thrusting his base-born sons into the priesthood, had been guilty of as great abominations as any of those which cried aloud to his wisdom as a legislator, and his justice as a king, for vengeance, or at least for purification.