Unicorn Rampant (34 page)

Authority, looking and feeling distinctly sheepish, made its way back to the town, the crowd vociferous behind.

The urge to be out of Dumbarton was now pronounced. Surely never had a Keeper of the proud fortress been so humiliated. But, before they left, John had Sandy sworn-in as Constable and Deputy-Keeper, before Sheriff Napier, so that at least in law he replaced Middlemas and had authority to act when he had any power to do so.

They then set off eastwards, taking Sandy with them meantime.

Installing Vandervyk at the Water of Leith mills, in comparison presented no problem. The two Germans appeared not in the least to resent the Dutchman's arrival, especially when they learned that he was to be concerned mainly with a training programme and the setting up of new mills.

Thereafter they spent a couple of days, in wintry weather, inspecting the Esk valley, from Dalkeith right up to the Pentland Hills, with the Dutchman and Germans, and settled on two or three suitable sites for mills, at Lasswade, Polton,

Roslin and Penicuik. Final decisions would be left to the papermakers.

This aspect of the King's business duly performed, John set about seeing to another, that of the royal fortress of Dumbarton. It was all very well to declare that he would involve the Scots Privy Council in the affair, but that august body consisted of prominent individuals who met only infrequently and were scattered over the face of the land. John was advised that the procedure was to see the Secretary of the Council, in the first place, to have the matter put on the agenda of the next meeting. Nobody suggested that there would be any very swift and decisive action.

The Secretary proved to be James Primrose, a lawyer and small Fife laird, renowned for his enormous family of nineteen and the fact that his eldest daughter had been wed to the late George Heriot, the King's banker and crony. Primrose, however, appeared presently to be at his West Fife property of Burnbrae, in the Stewartry of Culross; so John had to make another journey, Alexander, having nothing better to do, accompanying him.

They found the Secretary to be a fussy, tetchy little man with a notably downtrodden wife, living in a tumbledown house on a small estate which appeared to consist of little more than a steep wooded valley down which a stream tumbled in almost a prolonged waterfall, hence the name of Burnbrae, flanked by only one or two meagre fields. He was not really helpful, and as good as stated that it was the Keeper's and Captain's business to maintain due discipline at Dumbarton and keep his Deputy in order, not to come bothering the Privy Council. When John demanded how he was to take order with Middlemas, barricaded and defiant inside the fortress, the other shrugged and said that this ought never to have been allowed to develop so far. If Sir John was incapable of keeping the castle for the King in good order, or found it impossible to do so from far away London, then he ought to resign the office to someone better placed.

In a sneaking sort of way John agreed with this, but could not say so. The fact remained, he insisted, that this royal strength was being held unlawfully against due authority, to the hurt of King James; and the Sheriff-Depute concerned asserted that it was a matter for the Privy Council. Would Master Primrose, as Secretary, take the necessary steps to bring the matter before the Council? Or must His Majesty, in London, be informed of this non-co-operation and take the necessary steps from there?

Will Alexander backed up this strong line in suitably authoritative fashion, and he could have a notably lofty way with him; and the little lawyer testily acceded. But he would have to take down a proper deposition of the case, with the complainer's assertions an
d relevant substantiatory depon
ings by witnesses. Also the Sheriff-Depute's observations. All this could certainly not be done here and now, and must await his, Primrose's, return to Edinburgh the following week. The due processes of law had to be observed.

It is to be feared that John made less than courteous reply to this. But Primrose was not to be moved. The two friends parted from their host in no great mutual esteem.

So they had to kick their heels in Edinburgh for quite some time. However they lodged very comfortably with Lady Mar and found sufficient to occupy their time pleasantly enough. As Alexander pointed out, they were almost certainly much better entertained here than if they were back at James's court in London. They took the opportunity—although Primrose undoubtedly would not have approved—to inform two prominent members of the Privy Council who happened to be in Edinburgh, one of them the Chancellor himself, the former Lord Fyvie and now Earl of Dunfermline, of the Dumbarton situation, and were more sympathetically heard than by the Secretary. Sheriff Napier was duly summoned from Kilmahew.

Eventually they got their depositions, deponings and witnesses' statements duly set down, signed, sealed and certified. How long it would be before relevant action would be taken was not indicated.

There appeared to be nothing more that they could do, meantime. Snow held up their departure for a few more days. Then they started on their long return-journey to London in uninviting weather conditions, duties performed.

12

So it was March before the travellers got back to Whitehall—only to find that the King and court were at Theobalds Park again in Hertfordshire. They had to turn around and retrace some of their steps.

Although scarcely the time of year for serious hunting, the breeding-season, James was not to be denied his sport, and considered that falconry could be pursued satisfactorily at any time. But the day of their arrival at Theobalds, in blustering rain and wind, even James stayed indoors. Nevertheless, sport was still his preoccupation it seemed, only the theory rather than the practice—and, as it affected the laws of the land, oddly enough. Something being called the Declaration of Sports was being debated, as a mixture of judgment and exercise in government, and sundry authorities had been summoned to discuss and comment. The said authorities had been at Theobalds for a week but had had to kick their heels most of the time, the King being more concerned with the practice than the theory, in this instance, and the weather having permitted the former in preference to the latter. But this cold, wet day was apt enough for the business. They had had one session in the morning, it appeared, before the travellers arrived—and Ludovick of Lennox had looked in on it and been mildly intrigued. He suggested to his son and Alexander that they could do worse than attend the afternoon session and learn how their liege-lord decided on matters of state policy. They could possibly make their due report to James thereafter. He explained that the question was to do with religion, strangely enough; churchmen's attitudes varied on the subject of engaging in sports on Sundays, and the Puritan element was lobbying parliament, where they were fairly strongly represented, to forbid all Sunday sports and games.

James personally had other views, indeed hunted and hawked regularly on the Sabbath, after due attendance at divine service, with no inhibitions.

When the Duke ushered the two younger men into a crowded dining-hall of the palatial mansion, it was not into any very evident atmosphere or judicial enquiry nor yet learned debate. Great log-fires blazed and crackled in the two huge fireplaces, and tables were laden with bottles, flagons and beakers. Clearly the discussion was going to be thirsty work, at least for the non-Puritans. The company assembled was a very mixed one, dignitaries of the Established Church of England in soberly rich garb, Romish clerics in cassocks and birettas, Presbyterian divines in stern black-and-white, Puritans in aggressively mouse
-
like anonymity, and courtiers in padded and slashed extravagance and every colour under the sun. The noise was remarkable.

Knowing that James would be in no hurry to appear, after a mid-day nap, Ludovick brought them in a good half-hour after the session was due to start. But even so it was almost another half-hour before the King tottered in, leaning on Steenie's shoulder—whom he had recently promoted to be Marquis of Buckingham and Lord High Admiral, much to the latter's disappointment and more so to his mother's, who had wanted him to be a duke. As the noise died away, James could be heard telling his favourite not to sulk and that this debate might well be good for his young soul—if the good God had seen fit to lend him one . . .

It took some further time for the monarch to settle himself at the dais-table, test the various wines and spirits on offer, fill his beaker, tip forward his high hat to scratch vigorously at the back of his head, and eye all from under his brim, critically.

"Aye, then," he said, at last. "Let's hear you. And you'll oblige me by talking mair sense and less whummle than you did this morning. I never heard so much daft-like blethers! A' we learned was that there is mair folly talked in the name o' religion than even Almighty God could have jaloused! Archbishop—you perhaps will talk sense?"

John knew George Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury, slightly, for he was a friend of Queen Anne's and visited her frequently—which may not have been a recommendation in themonarch's eyes. Hewas a large, heavy, slow-spoken man.

"Sire," he said, "this morning we heard the differing views of what the Lord's Day should represent. Few agreed on all aspects—save that it was essentially a day for the worship of God. Some saw it as
only
that with nothing else to be engaged on by any—this, if necessary, to be enforced by the laws of this realm. Others saw it as a day of rest, celebrating the Biblical account of the Creation, when the Creator is said to have rested on the seventh day. Others again saw it as a continuation of the Jewish Sabbath and would apply to it all the exercises and also the bans and prohibitions of that ancient and non-Christian people's worship of
J
ehovah
..
."

"Aye, man—aye," James interrupted. "Just so. But we had a' that this morning. Guidsakes, we dinna need to hear tell o' it again!"

"No, Majesty. But bear with me, I pray you, for just a little longer. Some of us, I think, need to marshal our thoughts from this morning's much talking, to remind ourselves what are the options before us when we make our decisions
..."

"My
decisions, my lord—mine! As the Lord Christ's Regent and Vicar in this realm, and head o' its Church, J mak the decisions, I'd remind you and all. You are here only to advise."

The Archbishop inclined his head slightly, but made no comment.

"Well, man—well! Proceed."

"Yes, Sire. Still others this morning appeared to see Sunday as a day for recreation and enjoyment, with worship only a very modest part of it, if at all. So there are widely opposing views, and men will continue to hold these opposing views, no doubt, whatever we here decide
...
or advise. As I see it, that is not our real concern here. What we are concerned with is to draw up a Declaration as to what should be the
realm's
attitude to behaviour on the Lord's Day, whereby basic guidance shall be given to all, but none shall be able to enforce their own particular views on others, save by honest persuasion. Thus men's consciences left free in this matter. We are not here to decide Holy Church's views on the matter—although the Church's attitude must, I say, be taken into account—but only the state's, since the matter will come before parliament. This morning, many seemed to have forgotten this."

There were murmurs amongst the company.

"I said a' that myself when I opened this perquisition and postulation this morning," James observed severely. "Lord help us—we're no' to go havering ower the same ground again, are we? See you—these attitudes we a' heard a sufficiency about can be shown to be mainly untenable and fallacious—aye, fallacious. Item—" he ticked off his points on long and slender but distinctly grubby fingers—"a day for the worship o' God. That it is, and maun be. But nae man, even your maist perfervid Puritan, some o' the by-ordinar holy Reformers in Scotland, or even the Pope in Rome, can worship God a' day without cease, for twelve hours or mair. It's no' possible. So what do they dae for the rest o' the hours? Stare at the wall? Plague their wives? Fill their bellies? Or what? Item: The day o' rest and recreation. Some would celebrate that in their beds, alone or wi' another—aye, recreation, indeed! Then there is recreation o' the mind, as well as o' the body. And, if the good God created this world in six days, they must ha' been gey long days, each a wheen thousand years. So the seventh day would be as long—you'll no' deny that? You'll no' hae us resting for the remainder o' our lives? Forby, the Creator didna start again on the Monday and create it a' once mair, each week! So we'll no' be slaves to siklike theoretics. Item: The Jews' Sabbath. I'm thinking that maist o' the Sabbatarians who never get past the Auld Testament, hate the said Jews and fair persecute them! The first to cast yon stane the Lord Christ spoke about. They canna have it both ways. So there's the matter.
Graviora quaedam sunt remedia perkulis!"

There was a suitable silence after this profound exposition, whilst James deservedly slaked his thirst.

Sir Francis Bacon, recently created Viscount Verulam and Lord High Chancellor, spoke up. "Now that we are all refreshed at the very Fountain of Knowledge, as at the Source of Wit and Learning, it but remains for us to ask what need has His Majesty for any guidance or advice from such as ourselves in this, or any other, matter? I feel sure that parliament will now be entirely informed on the essence of the business and able to take the required steps. It seems to me that there is little more to be said."