Unicorn Rampant

by Nigel Tranter

  Dunfermline, normally so civilly assured, looked a little put out. "If you wish, sir—if you wish. Although I do not know that it is necessary. On my right, here, is my lord Archbishop of Glasgow. Then my lord Earl of Winton. Then my lord Earl of Melrose, Secretary of State. Then my lord Burntisland. And, at the far end, the Master of Elphinstone. On my left, my lord Bishop of Dunkeld. Then Sir Andrew Hamilton of Redhouse, Lord Advocate. Next is my lord Erskine, Deputy-Governor of Stirling Castle. Then Lord Foresterseat of Session. All of His Majesty's Scots Privy Council. Are you satisfied, sir?"

  "A most illustrious company, my lord," John said, sitting down—but did not add, as he would have liked to do, distinctly incestuous and no doubt hand-picked. For the Earl of Winton was Dunfermline's own elder brother; Sir Andrew Hamilton was Melrose's—that is, Tam o' the Cowgate's—brother; Foresterseat was another Hamilton; the Master of Elphinstone's mother was Elizabeth Drummond, sister of Lord Madderty and therefore aunt of Janet; and the Bishop of Dunkeld was Peter Rollo, married to another sister of Madderty. As of course was Lord Erskine's mother likewise. Without having actually to be present himself, Janet's father seemed to be well represented.

  "Then we shall proceed, if all agree? Master Primrose— we await your dittay."

  "Yes, my lord." The Clerk selected from his papers one which he eyed as though it afforded him no pleasure and in a flat voice proceeded to read. "Complaint of Sir John Stewart of Methven, knight, Keeper and High Constable of His Majesty's Castle of Dumbarton, against William Middlemas, formerly Constable and Deputy-Keeper thus: The custody of the said castle was committed to Ludovick, Duke of Lennox, the complainant's father, by the King's Majesty in time past, but the said Sir John has been in possession thereof for several months, by His Majesty's agreement. Nevertheless the said William Middlemas, who had been removed from office by the complainant, had, while Sir John was absent, made choice to use the time to corrupt certain persons, all servants in the castle, to join him, and, on a day in February last, assisted by the said persons, made himself master and commander of the said castle, seized the ports and gates, munitions, ordnance and weapons and did violently thrust forth the complainant's servants and kept the castle against the King. This on the statement of Sir John Stewart, Keeper, and witnessed by Sir William Alexander of Menstrie, knight, and also of Sheriff-Depute Napier of Kilmahew and others."

  There was pause while various of the councillors considered that and murmured to each other. The Chancellor looked left and right, and then nodded.

  "Well, Sir John—do you accept that as a true statement of your complaint, as agreed by your witnesses?"

  "I do, my lord. Although it could be much added to. In that the man Middlemas also has long improperly defrauded the King and Treasury in his collection of taxation, and oppressed the lieges in Dumbarton town and port. I so informed the Clerk, here, some rime ago—but he has omitted to record it. Unless there is more to come?"

  Another voice spoke, that of the Lord Erskine, a thin-featured but good-looking man with a notably tight mouth. "I object, my lord Chancellor. That, if considered, would constitute a totally different and separate charge. And not competent to be brought by the present complainant. I move that it be not heard."

  "Ah. Thank you, my lord Erskine. Is this your view, Master Primrose?"

  "Yes, my lords. If such a claim were made against the defendant, it would require to be put forward and substantiated by the injured party, namely His Majesty's Treasury. Not by Sir John Stewart."

  "And this has not been done?"

  "No, my lord."

  "In the absence of the Lord High Treasurer, who is furth of this realm at present, I ask the Deputy-Treasurer, Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank. How say you, Sir Gideon?"

  "I have received no such instructions," that grizzled individual said briefly.

  "Very well. That seems to be quite clear. You hear, Sir John? Any such charge should be brought, not by you but by the Lord Treasurer. So far, no such charge has been brought. Therefore this Council cannot consider it. We revert to your original complaint, as read. Is there any defence, Master Primrose?"

  "Yes, my lord Chancellor. The aforesaid William Middlemas depones that he has no charge to answer. And that, on the contrary, he has suffered wrongous dismissal at the hands of the complainant, for which he requires due compensation."

  "Ha! Wrongous dismissal and a counter-claim. Is the said William Middlemas here to substantiate such claims?"

  "No, my lord. I did not consider that was necessary at this stage, believing that the Council would wish to consider the matter further before summoning him and his witnesses to appear."

  "Why that, Master Primrose?"

  "Because, my lord, die defendant's and counter-claimant's claim is specific and involves other than the first claimant, Sir John Stewart. And such other party, being a member of this His Majesty's Scots Privy Council, but not present this day, it would no doubt be the wish of your lordships to take cognisance of the matter before proceeding further."

  "Indeed? And who is this Privy Councillor, not present, whose interests we are to consider?"

  "It is my lord Duke of Lennox, Lord High Admiral of Scotland and former Viceroy of this realm, my lords. Father, although not lawfully, of the first complainant."

  There was a suitable stir at that—although John was perfectly sure that all were well aware of the situation beforehand.

  "In the circumstances, I commend your wise decision, Master Primrose," Dunfermline said. "If my lord Duke is concerned, clearly we cannot make any decision in the matter until his observations and representations have been received. We can scarcely summon him from London to appear before us!"

  There was much solemn nodding of heads. Then Bishop Rollo of Dunkeld spoke.

  "I suggest, my lord Chancellor, that we are entitled, at this stage, to learn what probable substance there is in this counter-claim in which the Duke of Lennox is allegedly involved? Is there any warrant for this, that we should consider it?"

  "I have a deposition here, from the said William Middlemas, my lords," Primrose said. "To which he was prepared to come and substantiate before you, with witnesses, if required." He read again. "I, William Middlemas, Deputy-Keeper and Constable of Dumbarton Castle, do declare on oath that I hold the commission of my lord Duke of Lennox, Governor and Keeper of the said Castle, dated 13th October 1615, confirming myself, William Middlemas as Deputy-Keeper, and agreeing that he, the said Duke, shall nowise remove myself from keeping the said castle and uplifting dues and casualties belonging thereto until such time as the Duke, his heirs, executors and assignees pay me, the said William Middlemas, my heirs, executors and assignees in the sum of3,000 merks due. This sum remains unpaid."

  There was silence in the room for a space.

  "Thank you, Master Primrose," Dunfermline said, at length. "This, my lords, puts a different light on the entire matter, I think you will all agree. Have you any observations to make on it, Sir John?"

  John strove to hide his discomfort. "I know of no such arrangement, my lords," he said, a little thickly. "I can only say that, if such an arrangement was made, it was a private matter between my father and his deputy. I am now Governor of Dumbarton and can dismiss or engage whom I will. Is it not so?"

  The murmuring at the table was considerable. The Archbishop spoke.

  "Such arrangement, if made, was surely a most improper one, between His Majesty's Keeper and Deputy-Keeper. This Council cannot approve of it. However, if so made, and duly witnessed in the name of the Keeper, it is presumably binding on his successor. Is that not so, Master Primrose?"

  "I would say undoubtedly so, my lord Archbishop."

  "Perhaps another man of law would proffer an opinion?" the Chancellor suggested. "You, Sheriff Napier?"

  "I, I should require to see the signed and witnessed undertaking, my lord," that man said unhappily. "But, if such is in order, yes, I fear that it would apply to a new Keeper."

  "Thank you, Sheriff-Depute. In th
e circumstances, my lords, I think that we can do no other than adjourn this hearing until we have the information we require to make a decision. Clearly the testimony and interests of my lord Duke of Lennox must be ascertained. And that will take some time, since he is in London. When received, this Council will meet again to consider and decide whether to hear the man Middlemas in person and to question Sir John Stewart further. Is it agreed? Then, my lords, we shall reconvene at a date to be appointed. You, Sir John, will no doubt hold yourself in readiness to appear, when summoned."

  "But. . .!" John was staring. " When is this to be? I cannot just wait here, indefinitely."

  "Where you wait is immaterial, Sir John. But if your complaint is to proceed, you must make yourself available to this Council. You must perceive that?"

  "But it will be weeks before you can hear from my father in London."

  "Undoubtedly. I would say six weeks at the earliest. Then we shall have to consider the Duke's representations and decide whether to go further, and if so arrange another hearing. This must be apparent to all."

  Helplessly John wagged his head. "But, my lord—I am in the King's service. I cannot linger here in Scotland, waiting, for up to two months. I have duties in London."

  "I would suggest to this young man, my lord Chancellor, that he has apparently duties in Scotland also!" That was the Lord Erskine, pointedly. "He is, after all, Governor of the King's castle of Dumbarton. If Sir John cannot attend to both his London duties and his governorship, then surely he ought to resign one or the other!"

  There was a general chorus of agreement.

  "That would seem a reasonable observation," Dunfermline said judicially. "As—was it Extra Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Sir John? As Extra Gentleman, no doubt His Majesty will be able to do without your valuable services for a few weeks while you attend to the affairs of his royal fortress on the Clyde! Unless you wish to journey down to London and then, after a few days, turn round and come back again? The choice, I suppose, is yours."

  There were smiles along the table.

  Tight-lipped, John glanced at Alexander, but did not speak.

  "Then, gentlemen, that is all that we can do this day. You have our permission to retire. No doubt, Sir John, Master Primrose will be able to communicate with you, at any time ... at Dumbarton Castle?"

  Bowing curtly, John led the way out.

  He contained himself only long enough to be out of the Council rooms before bursting forth in indignation. It was a scandal—that is what it was! The entire proceedings a contrivance, a mummery and play-acting, all decided on beforehand. Carefully plotted to ensure his humiliation. No doubt by Erskine and his father, with the aid of the Drummonds. It was intolerable!

  Will agreed, although Napier was silent. Clearly they would have John out of Dumbarton Castle if they could.

  Why? Why? John demanded. It was not so great a plum! Or was it? Was there something about Dumbarton which he did not know? Which made it so desirable to the Erskines?

  It could be no more than pride, family pride, Will suggested. If the Erskines had always considered Dumbarton theirs. After all, Erskine House was just across the river. Perhaps they considered that all the great royal fortresses should be in their hands—Stirling was theirs hereditarily and the Earl of Mar was Keeper of Edinburgh Castle. That, allied with the offence against John by Madderty and Erskine's other Drummond kinsmen? Or could it be money? Siller? Was it a more valuable appointment than John had realised? If they could find out how much revenue it produced they might get nearer an answer to the question! Obviously, the Duke his father was but a babe in all this. Probably he had never known the full possibilities of the appointment. But the Lord Treasurer would know! If the taxes came to him, Johnnie Mar, the King's foster-brother! What if Middlemas was no more than a catspaw? It would account for a lot.

  John shook his head at that. He could not believe that it was thus—not corruption. By the Treasury, or the Erskines. They would not descend to that. But they might have been slack, remiss in their dealings with Middlemas, and be anxious not to have it uncovered. The Treasurership was no doubt profitable, but Dumbarton would be a very small part of it. What did Napier think?

  Whatever the Sheriff-Depute thought, he did not give tongue to it. Evidently he had perceived the weight of authority ranged against the new Governor of Dumbarton and had no desire to seem to challenge it.

  Back at Lady Mar's lodging, they discussed the immediate future. Alexander obviously could not remain in Scotland, hanging about for a couple of months; he had been away long enough as it was, even for the Prince's service. He would have to travel south very shortly. As for John, for him to journey with him and then almost immediately to turn around and ride all the way back again, would be not only absurd but probably playing into his enemies' hands— for they evidently expected him to be at Dumbarton in the interim, and, if he was not, it might be one more stick with which to beat him, a heedless and absent Governor. So he had better stay. Although what the King would say . . . ?

  They decided that Will should go quickly, the very next day, so as to get to Whitehall before whoever the Council sent to interview the Duke. He should give Vicky a full account of the situation, warning him of what was involved and seeking his help and information, especially on this matter of the 3,000 merks commitment. He must know more than he had told John. As to the King, John would write a letter for Will to deliver, giving him all the paper-milling details and the news that shipping could start just as soon as prices were agreed with Cockayne. Perhaps if he told James that John's remaining in Scotland meantime, and supervising the first shipments, would help, it might soothe possible royal displeasure.

  So next day the friends parted. John returned to Methven for another conference with his mother before making for Dumbarton.

  It was inside a week when he arrived at the fortress on the Clyde, but even so he found that the Privy Council, or someone influential thereon, had acted swiftly indeed. Sandy Graham informed him that they had visitors, prisoners actually, who had arrived two days previously under guard —two clergymen of all things, parish ministers who had refused to accept the dictates of King James's new bishops and were now arrested and to be confined until they recognised the error of their ways. Sandy had had no idea what to do with them, but had installed them meantime in the Keeper's House, as his guests, waiting John's instructions.

  Needless to say, John was astonished at this development. This could be no coincidence, surely. So what was behind it? He went to see the prisoners.

  He found two very different reverend gentlemen. One, Master Andrew Duncan, grey, elderly and spare, silent and thoughtful; and Master Alexander Simson, much younger, plump and bustling. Neither gave the impression of being dangerous characters nor fanatic, in need of incarceration, and both seemed to be on excellent terms with Sandy Graham—who, of course, was himself a minister's son.

  When John sought to discover the reason for their present fate at the hands of the Privy Council, the younger divine informed him cheerfully that they were in the hands of God, rather, and rejoicing to be used in His service. They were indeed of the elect, having been singled out by the obnoxious bishops to be set up as examples to warn other parish ministers who might refuse to accept the spiritual authority of the King's prelates. They were grieved to be taken away from their flocks, of course, but glad to be banner-bearers of the Lord. And conditions here at Dumbarton were good, much better than at Stirling Castle where they had come from.

  The fact that they had been brought here from Stirling, where Erskine was Keeper, confirmed John's belief that this was in some way a move against himself. He offered the prisoners his sympathy, assured them that as far as possible they would be treated as guests rather than prisoners whilst in his care, and wondered whether they had been given any clue as to why they were sent to Dumbarton? They could not help in this, however, but blessed him and his deputy for their goodwill.

  What, then, was the point in this transfer—
for if Lord Erskine was behind it, some point there was, and scarcely to John's advantage. The more he considered it, the more convinced he became that there were very clever wits at work here. Why ministers, sent to him? There must be a sufficiency of other sorts available, if he was to be given prisoners to tend—felons, rebels, debtors. Surely, because the Presbyterian ministers were directly opposing the King's personal policy. This imposition of bishops on the Scots Church was James's own decision, his assertion that he was Christ's Vice-Regent, ruling by divine right, and therefore entitled to appoint leaders in the Church as well as in the realm. So—the objecting ministers, unlike other offenders, could be claimed to be acting directly against the monarch. This would be why they had been sent to Dumbarton, to be a bugbear and danger. If he treated them well, he was in danger of offending the King. If harshly, he would offend the Kirk and most God-fearing folk in Scotland. It looked like a very cunning device to drive a wedge between John and King James.

  If this was so, it seemed as though there was a definite campaign to bring him low. John wondered whether it was worth being Governor of Dumbarton? Which was, no doubt, exactly what sundry highly-placed individuals wanted him to wonder!

  At any rate, he did not allow his recognition of all this to prejudice his treatment of his two captives. They remained in the Keeper's House, with such comfort as it provided, took their meals with him and Sandy and had the freedom of all within the fortress walls. Indeed John became quite friendly with them, and spent many an evening discussing the problems created by the King's fondness for episcopacy, which hitherto he had little considered. He discovered that, though the office of bishop itself was frowned upon, their authority in the Kirk disputed and their right to sit in parliament deplored, it was liturgical worship which most grievously disturbed these two, especially what seemed to him the comparatively minor matters of kneeling at communion and private baptism. The King's success at the General Assembly of the Kirk over what had become known as the Five Articles of Perth, foreshadowed at the parliament John had attended, was to them a dire disaster, and treachery on the part of the majority of voting clerics. John found himself being manoeuvred into the awkward situation of using his alleged influence with the King to try to abate this episcopal madness. The two prisoners explained that they, and those who thought like them, were in fact loyal subjects of His Majesty, with no animus against him; but that the Church of Scotland would never accept bishops and prayer-book worship and the King should realise and acknowledge this for the sake of all concerned and the harmony of his ancient realm. John, insisting that his influence with James was of the slightest, especially in such matters as this, nevertheless could not refuse to mention the subject to the monarch in due course. He wondered whether the Erskines and Drummonds had anticipated something of the sort.