Unknown (11 page)

To
be sure, James - to be sure,' Rothes nodded, after a barely
perceptible pause, 'It shall be as you say
.'

Neither
King Charles nor the leaders of his outraged
Scots
people were, in fact, so efficient and effective as they intended.
The book of the Canons was duly distributed - printed in the end at
Aberdeen - with all its dire commands and intimations of punishments,
ecclesiastical and civil, should they be disobeyed; but the winter
passed, Easter itself, April, May, June, and still the reason and
object of it all, the prayer-book and Liturgy, did not appear. Delays
in the printing and binding were blamed; possibly the inclusion of
those ominous coloured pictures and cherubs was largely responsible.
And there were rumours of Scots sabotage, certain Privy
Councillors' names being linked with the delays, Rothes and Napier
amongst them. Even sundry English Puritans were said to have a hand
in the business. The thing became something of a joke, as time went
on, hardly to be taken seriously - despite all the dreadful warnings
that resounded from practically every pulpit in Scotland. Only
the surplices appeared, shaped and sewn, it is to be feared, mainly
by busy Presbyterian fingers, to hang as dire and inflammatory
symbols in front of the said pulpits. Alexander Henderson and his
colleagues at least played their part.

And
yet, even so, the forces of righteous defence were little more
competent and efficacious, or up-to-time, than was the assault from
London. Although Rothes, Loudoun, Lindsay and others had mobilised
major support throughout the Lowlands for massive protest, and the
theory of a great declaration or petition to the King was accepted,
nothing was actually done to implement it; as the threat hung fire,
so not unnaturally did the counterblast. Many wordy forms of protest
and declamation were composed, as a sort of exercise - Montrose and
his secretary John Lambie penned two or three themselves; but none
grew into the organised and widespread national testimony which was
required - almost to the relief of the authors, those at Kincardine
included.

So
summer came again, and men found many things to do more immediately
preoccupying than either religious or political disputation. Amongst
other distractions, James Graham learned that he was to become a
father once again - and rejoiced that Magdalen was greatly uplifted
at the prospect.

Then,
in mid-July, a letter arrived from the Earl of Rothes, to declare
that the waiting and inaction was over. The prayer-book had arrived
in quantity, the Scots bishops were commanded, and determined, to
bring them into use forthwith, and had selected Sunday the 23rd
of July for, as it were, vesting day. All the books could not be
distributed round the country by then; but their spiritual lordships
had decided that there would be a great service of dedication and
celebration in the Cathedral of Edinburgh - in other words, the High
Kirk of St Giles - before the Privy Council, the judges of Session,
the Lord Provost and magistrates, and as many of the congregation as
there remained room for. All persons of note in the kingdom were
urged to be present - and Rothes suggested that Montrose and others
like-minded could do much worse than attend. He had a town-house in
Edinburgh and would be glad there to return the hospitality received
at Kincardine.

So,
with mixed feelings, James Graham presented himself at the lofty
greystone 'land' in the Horse Wynd, off the Cowgate of Edinburgh, at
Leslie's Ludging, on the Saturday evening - and was surprised to find
it full to bursting. Half of the nobility of Scotland appeared to be
crammed into its tiered rooms, even lining its twisting turnpike
stair. Amidst much noise, argument, declamation and laughter,
Montrose distinguished the Earls of Dunfermline, Home, Eglinton,
Lindsay, Loudoun, Lothian, Sutherland and Wigtown; the Lords
Balmerino, Stormont, Boyd, Yester and Elcho; and great lairds like
Sir George Stirling of Keir, Douglas of Cavers, Fraser of Philorth,
Mure of Rowallan and Home of Wedderburn. Sober-garbed and markedly
out-of-place amongst this dazzling throng of cavaliers, were one or
two of the Edinburgh ministers.

Many
of the company were known to him, of course; some of them indeed
friends from college days at St Andrews — such as Wigtown,
Lindsay, Sutherland and the former Glamis, now Earl of Kinghome.
Amongst the older men there were not a few members of His Grace's
Scots Privy Council, although it was significant that none of its
Lords Spiritual were present.

The
talk was all about the morrow's confrontation. The Chancellor was
evidently expecting trouble. He had sent orders to the Lord Provost
and magistrates of Edinburgh to have the Town Guard out in force 'to
ensure the peace of the King's lieges'. The Chancellor, chief
minister of the Crown in Scotland, and convener of its parliament,
was the Primate, Archbishop Spottiswoode of St Andrews who, three
years before the old Earl of Kinnoul died, had been appointed to
this key position, to the great offence of the nobility, the first
cleric to be Chancellor since the Reformation. Spottiswoode himself
would not be present - he would be introducing the prayer-book in his
own cathedral of St Andrews; Bishop Lindsay of Edinburgh would
preside - and his chief, the young Earl of Lindsay, was coming under
not a little raillery for nurturing such a snake in the bosom of his
clan,

Montrose
was unable to get a word alone with Rothes, but could gain no
impression of anything constructive being done, especially any idea
of drawing up a declaration or covenant to send to the King. He put
the matter to practically all he spoke with, and found no real
opposition to the notion - although most seemed to feel that it would
be useless, doomed to rejection by the obdurate Charles. When the
Eari of Loudoun likened it to a Band, he got immediate favourable
reaction. Bands, or bonds, meant something positive to these men. But
Montrose demurred. A Band implied action against something. And the
only target for that action, here, could be the King. That was not to
be contemplated.

Montrose
was glad to discover Archie Napier amongst the aristocratic throng,
and in a corner confided to him that he feared that matters looked
like getting out-of-hand. He was not going to be a party to civil war
- and that is the way that matters were trending. There were too many
hot-heads here, however gilded. Wiser councils must be brought
forward, and made to prevail.

His
brother-in-law shook his grey head. ‘I know it, James. I pray
that we can in the end win the day and see moderation prevail.
Wine is talking loud here. At a council-table, could we but get to
one, heads and voices would be cooler.' He frowned. 'And the King -
he serves the cause of moderation nothing! He is deaf to all our
pleas, and blind to his own good. He will resile not one inch from
his folly.'

"But
he
is
the
King, still. The Lord's Anointed.'

'Aye
- there's the grip of it.' Napier turned, as an imposing figure
approached them. 'Ha! And here's the King's Advocate, no less!
Sir Thomas - I think you will not know my good-brother, Montrose.
James - the Lord Advocate, Sir Thomas Hope of Craighall.'

James
Graham eyed the newcomer with interest, a big, portly, dark-visaged
man, with a fleshy face and narrow-set, dark, keen eyes, scarcely
prepossessing of appearance but clearly a man to be reckoned with,
quite apart from being principal law officer of the Crown in
Scotland. The fact that the Lord Advocate was coarse-looking, and
sounded it, had thick lips, a wide mouth and a wild black and bushy
beard, would only deceive the ignorant or the very unwary. Montrose
knew that this was one of the most potent characters in two kingdoms
- if scarcely the best-loved. Potent in more ways than one, for he
had fourteen children - and what was more, two of them were already
Lords of Session, to sit upon the High Court bench before which their
father came to plead as King's Advocate; a fact which allowed him to
plead with his head covered, an unprecedented privilege, since it
would be considered derogatory for a man to take his hat off to his
sons.

The
younger man bowed, wordless.

‘
I
know
of
his
lordship,' Hope greeted 'Who does not? You are well returned to
Scotland, I think, young man.' The Advocate splattered a little from
those thick red lips as he spoke.

'You
say so, sir? I appear to have returned to a seething pot of troubles,
indeed.' Montrose drew back almost involuntarily, not liking
what he saw - and surprised indeed to see the King's Advocate in this
company, though he could hardly say so.

Trouble,
yes. But trouble is the forcing ground of change, of progress, of
greatness, my lord.' Hope had a strangely light voice for a man of
his appearance and reputation - and somehow managed not to sound
sententious. 'Trouble is to be grasped in strong hands, not jinked
and jouked. Is it no', Archie?'

'Presupposing
the strong hands are available. And allied to cool wits.'

'Spoke
like an Extraordinary Lord o' Session, my old friend! So we
must needs seek strong hands, in this stir, must we not? Aye, and
cool heads. But they're scarce, Archie, scarce.'

'You
are right, Tom. That is just what we were saying, James and I. Cool
heads, a conference table. Not a stramash of high words and
flourishes.' Napier waved a hand round at the crowded room. 'Such as
we have here.'

'Cha
- there may be cool heads, aye, and strong hands too, in the land.
But they maun be allied to a voice which men will
heed,
Archie.
We may conceive our ain voices clear enough, and our heads likewise!
We may even think ourselves wise, on occasion. But will Scotland
heed us? Follow us? I think not. Even you, Archie, born second Lord
Napier, these will never follow!' The Lord Advocate waved a scornful
hand at the aristocratic throng. 'As for me, I am a lowborn base
fellow, son of an Edinburgh burgher. What belted earl will follow Tom
Hope? Even though sometimes they'll admit themselves fear't of me! No
- the voice of Scotland needs must be a voice high-born, younger too,
of the blood of the old leadership. Only such will our stubborn
fellow countrymen follow - and not only the nobility. The
commonality are just as bad. I have been looking for such these
long months.'

The
Earl of Rothes has taken an active role
...'
Montrose began.

'John
Leslie!' Hope cut him short with a snort. 'Leslie -he isna such a
fool as he sounds, I grant you. But nor is he of the stuff of
leadership. Young men would never follow the like - nor would he try
to make them. And it is young men, not old, who will decide this
present matter.'

'What
do you mean, sir? Saying that
young
men
will decide it? You do not mean resort to arms, surely? You, the
King's Advocate, do not advocate revolt? Rebellion? Against the
King?'

"Young
man - I am the King's servant. I will do nothing, nothing mark you,
to injure His Grace. But like my lord Napier here, I conceive him to
be so ill-advised as to be in danger of losing his Scottish kingdom.
In such pass, it is my duty, as I see it, the duty of all true
lieges, to save him from those who so advise
him
and poison his mind. From his own misguided notions forbye. And this
will not be done without stark deeds. Not rebellion, pray God. But
resolute, right positive action. And for that, the voices of old men
will not suffice.'