Unicorn Rampant

by Nigel Tranter

  In the weeks that followed, John spent considerable time in the town and port with Sandy, investigating the revenue situation, trying to assess the approximate total sums collectable each year from the various sources. He found that the harbour customs represented much the greatest item, much greater than he had visualised, with Dumbarton the main seaport on the west side of Scotland. Since James had united the crowns, its trade had much increased, partly through the King's policy for the Scots development and colonisation of Ulster, and partly through some enhancement of trade with the Americas, especially in tobacco and rum. This latter, of course, was first channelled through English west-coast ports, for the English monopolists were jealous of their colonial rights; but there was considerable trans-shipment northwards thereafter, most of which came into Dumbarton—and the crown gained a second lot of import duties on the same goods. Moreover, much of the port itself was crown property, wharfs, warehouses and other offices, all built on royal land and paying substantial rents. Even the salmon fisheries at the mouth of the River Leven and along the Clyde shore were leased by the crown and brought in surprising sums. With rentals in the town on more crown property, and casualties of superiority due on a variety of privileges, even pilotage, all in all, apart from direct taxation, the annual total amounted, so far as they could gauge, to at least eighteen thousand merks, or over £12,000 Scots. Whatever proportion of this stuck to the fingers of the collectors, the Dumbarton governorship was obviously a far more valuable appointment than John had realised. The questions were: how much of all this did his father know? How much had Middlemas been retaining? And how much was going to the Treasury—or at least to the Lord Treasurer?

  Another interesting aspect of it all was that still no demands nor instructions had come from the said Treasury for payment, and Sandy's hoard continued to grow. This was strange, to say the least, and either indicated extreme inefficiency on the part of the authorities—or something more sinister perhaps? Could it be that the moneys were being left deliberately to lie, in the hopes that John or his underlings might be tempted to misappropriate these apparently unwanted funds in some degree, and so serve as an added indictment against him? Or was he becoming altogether too suspicious, almost foolishly so?

  John paid a couple of visits to Methven from Dumbarton, partly for relief from the pent-up atmosphere of life in the fortress, with its stresses, but mainly to confer with his mother. Also, it had to be admitted, just to feel that he was nearer to Janet, even though he made no attempt to see her. He recounted all the Dumbarton and Privy Council business to Mary Gray, his fears and suspicions, and confessed that he was seriously considering resigning the governorship, or at least handing it back to his father. He would much rather just be back managing Methven—if the King would release him.

  Mary sympathised, but urged him to think deeper. Resignation on his part would be taken as an admission of either guilt or failure, or both. Probably the Middlemas case would not be proceeded with. Worst of all, it might rebound on his father. From all John had told her, it looked as though Vicky had behaved unwisely, to say the least, over Dumbarton. Probably he had been cheated and misled also; but there must be more to it than that. Vicky must have been aware that all was not aright there. Perhaps he had been receiving more moneys than he should have done? Why had Middlemas been allowed to go on behaving as he did for so long? Now John had come along and upset the arrangement, and many people were concerned. She was not blaming him; what he had done was correct, honest. But clearly there were more repercussions than he had anticipated, and his father would not thank him if he was to be involved in any witch-hunt.

  Was she saying that his father might have been a party to some misuse of crown funds, he demanded?

  She did not know. But, with her recognition of Vicky's attitude towards money and the King's service, she thought it perfectly possible. He had served James all his life—and got little thanks or payment for most of it, indeed had frequently had to spend his own money on royal affairs, as most who served the King did. If he, on occasion, recouped himself from the Dumbarton revenues, was he to be altogether condemned?

  John was doubtful—but asserted that at least he ought to have been told, not left to stir up this wasps' bike and deal with all the consequences in ignorant honesty!

  She agreed—but observed that the longer he remained in James Stewart's service, the more he would realise that honesty was relative! The King's own interpretation of honesty would be interesting to ascertain! She imagined that it would very much vary with circumstances. She urged John not to be too hard on his father, who had to survive in a much more complicated world than that of Methven! She had learned that lesson growing up as the bastard daughter of the Master of Gray!

  He went back to Dumbarton perhaps wiser, but little happier.

  The summons from James Primrose came on the Eve of St Luke, 17 October, nine weeks after the original hearing. Sir John Stewart was to appear before the Council again in four days' time, 21 October.

  Without Will Alexander for support, and having lost confidence in Sheriff Napier, John took Sandy Graham with him to Edinburgh, as witness. Oddly, the same day as this summons arrived, an armed party turned up at the Castle, also from the Privy Council, requiring the handing over to them of the two clerical prisoners for reasons and destination unspecified. John parted with them quite regretfully. He had found their company stimulating.

  This second hearing was at the same time and in the same place and company as heretofore, save that Sir Gideon Murray, the Deputy-Treasurer, was not present. This time there were chairs for John and Sandy.

  From the start, the Chancellor was more brusque, spoke more quickly and gave the impression that all was to be got over as soon as possible, almost as though he might be uncomfortable about something. Primrose was ordered to read out a minute of the previous hearing, to refresh their lordships' minds—which that man did in a voice devoid of all expression. Then Dunfermline announced that a testimony of sorts had been received from the Duke of Lennox in London, and that this also would be read to them. John sat forward.

  Primrose, without changing his tone, quoted from another paper, saying that the lord Duke of Lennox, High Admiral of Scotland, etcetera, testified that, as far as his memory served him for happenings five years previously, he had agreed with William Middlemas, Deputy-Keeper, that he should continue in that capacity for so long as he gave satisfaction to himself as Governor. In the event of him being relieved of the deputy-keepership other than at his own request, some suitable compensation would be paid to him, the sum misremembered at this present by the Duke. That, Primrose added flatly, concluded the ducal statement.

  There was a pause thereafter, as all considered this somewhat inadequate evidence. Dunfermline asked if John wished to comment and was answered with a shake of the head. He then asked Primrose whether the man Middlemas was available for questioning and, answered in the affirmative, ordered him to be brought in.

  So John came face-to-face with William Middlemas once more, as the man was ushered in, with two companions, identified to the Council as Robert Middlemas, brother, and Robert Cairncross, both servants at the castle of Dumbarton formerly. They stared at each other blankly.

  The Chancellor was untypically curt. "You are William Middlemas, lately Deputy-Keeper of the King's castle of Dumbarton, dismissed by Sir John Stewart, Keeper thereof?"

  "I am," the other agreed.

  "You will add 'my lord' when you answer me, or any other here," he was told. "You now assert wrongous dismissal and claim certain moneys as due to you by Sir John, in accordance with an alleged arrangement made with you by the former Keeper, my lord Duke of Lennox?"

  "I do, my lords. In the sum o' 3,000 merks."

  "This in the event of wrongous dismissal?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  "Have you any evidence, other than your own assertion, for this claim and the sum stated?"

  "I have, my lord. A signed paper, which I hold. Burnbrae, here
, has it."

  Primrose came forward with a document, which was passed along the Council table. None more than glanced at it, indication to John that they had all already seen it. Finally it was handed to himself. It briefly stated the terms Middlemas had alleged, with the straggling signature—Lennox at the end, dated 13 October, 1615.

  "This document appears to be sufficiently clear and in order as far as it goes, however improper an arrangement," Dunfermline said. "Have you any comments, Sir John?"

  "I have, my lord. I accept that this appears to be my father's signature, and, in view of his testimony just read, I cannot dispute that the arrangement took place. But its validity is another matter. The counter-claim by this man depends on wrongful dismissal. If the dismissal was not wrongful, then I submit that the claim cannot stand. I. . ."

  "It doesna say that in the paper!" Middlemas interrupted heavily.

  "Silence!" the Chancellor rapped. "You will address yourself only to me, and speak only when asked to. Proceed, Sir John."

  "If it does not so state in this paper, my lords, neither does it say otherwise. The matter is not mentioned. But in any contract it is surely understood without saying that unlawful acts cannot seek the protection of the law."

  "That, I think, cannot be denied."

  "Then I assert that William Middlemas has no claim, in that his dismissal was not wrongful. It was entirely necessary and indeed overdue, in that he unlawfully shut up and held the King's castle against the King's lawful Governor and the Sheriff-Depute of the county of Dumbarton. And, further, that he had for long unlawfully mishandled the taxation, customs and revenues of Dumbarton, the which it was his duty to collect and remit to His Majesty's Scottish Treasury."

  There was a profound silence, broken at length by the Lord Erskine.

  "What proof has Stewart for that statement? I submit that he can have none. For proof could only be produced by the Treasury. And to my knowledge no such proof exists."

  The Chancellor tapped finger-nails on the table. "That would seem to be so," he said. "Sir John, can you substantiate your extraordinary allegation?"

  "Do I have to, my lord? Here and now? I can bring many witnesses, if need be, from Dumbarton town and port, to testify to extortion and wrongful demands by Middlemas. How much of what he collected he remitted to the Treasury can surely be revealed by the Treasury's records."

  "The Treasury's records are a matter for the Lord Treasurer and his Deputy, not for Sir John Stewart," Erskine declared thinly. "So far as I am aware, the Treasury has made no charges against this man Middlemas in his submission of moneys. And only the Treasury has the authority so to charge, not the Keeper of Dumbarton Castle."

  "So I would agree," Dunfermline nodded. "I must rule, Sir John, that such charge cannot be considered by this Council. You must withdraw it."

  "If I must, I withdraw it as a charge. But I urge your lordships to remember it! However, the charge of extortion and threatening of the lieges remains."

  "Perhaps. But cannot be considered by this Council meantime for lack of supporting evidence and witnesses. Our present concern is with your claim properly to have dismissed the Deputy-Keeper, and his counter-claim for compensation. Have you anything to add, William Middlemas?"

  "Only, my lord, that I want my 3,000 merks!"

  "M'mm. Yes. And you, Sir John?"

  "Only to repeat, my lord, that, if the alleged contract was unlawful in the first place, I cannot by law be held to its terms."

  "We shall see. Then I think that we may proceed, my lords. Meantime, both complainant and counter-claimant shall retire, while the Council considers its decision. They will be recalled, presently, to hear that decision . .."

  "One moment, my lord Chancellor," Erskine put in. "There is the matter of the prisoners. The Council's consideration on the treatment of these prisoners is relevant to the matter under decision, in that it is perhaps the only guide the Council has as to the fitness or otherwise of Sir John Stewart to occupy the office of Keeper of Dumbarton, and therefore of his fitness to bring charges of unfitness against the man Middlemas. This was agreed."

  "Ah, yes—the prisoners. They had slipped my mind. Then, William Middlemas, you will retire as stated. But you, Sir John, will remain meantime. Master Primrose— you will see to it."

  So Middlemas and his witnesses were led out and from another door the Reverends Duncan and Simson were brought in, looking somewhat bewildered. They greeted John and Sandy warmly but eyed the assembled lords askance, especially the bishops.

  Dunfermline looked almost as doubtful as the divines. "You, er, prisoners, Masters Duncan and Simson, have been brought before this Council to testify as to treatment received while in the custody of Sir John Stewart, Governor of the castle of Dumbarton," he announced, scarcely looking at either ministers or John. "What have you to say?"

  Alexander Simson, the younger man, did look from his colleague to John. "But ... we have no complaints, my lord," he exclaimed. "Nane at all. Sir John was kind, maist kind."

  "Ha! Kind?"

  "Yes. He could scarce have been kinder. Treated us well. As did this other, Alexander Graham."

  "You agree with that, Master . . . er, Duncan?"

  "I do, sir. Would that we were as well treated elsewhere!" And the older man looked at Erskine.

  "This, despite your presence in His Majesty's castle as His Majesty's prisoners, there for disobeying His Majesty's commands?"

  "There for ministering to our flocks as laid down by a higher authority in matters of faith and religion, Christ's Kirk in Scotland!" Duncan asserted strongly, even if his old voice quivered a little.

  As the bishops present huffed and chuntered, the Chancellor rapped on the table.

  "Silence, sirrah! You are here to answer questions put to you, not to make seditious statements."

  "We are here to speak, if speak we must, only the Lord God's truth!"

  "Away with him—away, I say!" the Archbishop declared, outraged.

  "A moment, my lord—not before we have established the truth as regards Sir John Stewart," Erskine intervened again. "These two prisoners both testify that while in Sir John's keeping at Dumbarton they were treated, as they say, kindly. Indeed they say that Stewart could not have been kinder! This is their agreed testimony?"

  "Indeed, yes," Simson nodded. And, glancing at Erskine, "We were not even required to pay for our board, although we ate at Sir John's table, as we have to pay for poor food in our cells at Stirling Castle."

  Dunfermline coughed. "Enough! Enough, do you hear? Master Primrose—I think that we have no further need for these prisoners. Remove them."

  Although he was indeed very doubtful whether he should thank his late captives, John smiled and nodded to them as they were led out and wished them well.

  "Sir John Stewart," the Chancellor resumed. "You have heard the testimony of these prisoners, who were put in your charge, for offences against the King's Majesty, that you not only treated them very kindly but actually fed them at your own table. Do you consider that conduct suitable in a governor of one of His Majesty's fortresses and prisons?"

  "I do, my lord. These ministers are not common felons. They may see their duty to God differently from your lordships, or even myself, but they are surely not to be treated like robbers or breakers of the peace."

  "That is not for you to decide, but His Majesty's judges and magistrates. Your duty was to treat them as offenders against His Majesty's commands. This, most evidently, you have not done."

  "As evidently, my lord, as that these two ministers were sent to Dumbarton for no other reason than to try to trap me! No doubt, if I had treated them harshly, that likewise would be considered an offence? Even though they appear to receive harsh treatment at Stirling!"

  "Sir John—such talk will do you no service!"

  "Do I require your service, my lords? I am here as the King's appointed Keeper of Dumbarton Castle, who has had occasion to dismiss his deputy and appoint another. That is all. The service, it
seems, is required by William Middlemas!"

  "That is a matter for judgment, sir—our judgment. I think that I may say that we have heard enough. You will now leave us to consider our decision. It should not take very long."

  Bowing curtly, John marched out to the ante-room, followed by Sandy. There was no sign of either Middlemas or the ministers.

  They had time only to exchange agreement that it was all a contrivance, arranged beforehand, a plot to discredit John, presumably for some good reason which involved these selected members of the Privy Council, when they were summoned back into the chamber. Obviously no large discussion had taken place.

  "Sir John Stewart," the Chancellor said, as though in a hurry now to have it all done with. "We find the contract between the Duke of Lennox and the man Middlemas to be valid and binding, however unsuitable as an arrangement and bargain concerning a house and castle of the King. Also that since it was between the Keeper of Dumbarton and the Deputy-Keeper, it must apply to the Duke's successor as Keeper—yourself. Therefore this Council finds that you owe William Middlemas in the sum of 3,000 merks, and that these moneys must be paid by you to him. Since it is a large sum, we will allow until Whitsunday next for you to find the moneys to pay the said Middlemas. You understand?"