Unknown (12 page)

Neither
of his hearers spoke for a few moments. Montrose was more struck by
the man's sombre words and grave tones, however light the voice, than
by anything that he had yet heard since his return to Scotland. When
the principal law officer of the realm, the man, next to the
Chancellor, representing the King's authority, spoke so,
admitted that he had been looking for strong leadership for months,
to counter the royal edicts, matters had indeed come to crisis-point.

Montrose
and Napier were back near-by next morning, well before the set hour
of ten, to take their places in St Giles High Kirk. Nine a.m. was the
usual hour, but there had been an earlier service, at eight, that
Sunday the 23rd of July, in order that the common folk of the parish
might have their ordinary worship and be got safely out of the way,
so that there might be ample accommodation for the important people
before whom the new prayer-book was to be used for the first time.
Also that there might be no risk of unseemly disturbance.
Normally there were no seats for the congregation - although elderly
ladies and sick folk often brought their own stools with them - but
there were stalls set aside for especial worshippers; and since it
was inconceivable that earls and great lords should have to
stand like other folk, these had today been suitably reinforced.
Montrose and his brother-in-law, therefore, sat comfortably at
the front of the north transept, right at the great central crossing
where the massive fluted pillars supported the church's mighty
lantern-towcr, the south transept directly in front of them, the huge
nave on their left, but the choir on their right screened off with
tapestries and hangings - this because it was at present undergoing
reconstruction and restoration to its former state. St Giles, before
the Reformation, had been one great church, though with many
side-chapels and chantries; but the Reformers had changed all that,
dividing it up into three separate places of Presbyterian worship for
city parishes. Now, under the new episcopal regime, it was one church
again; but the choir area was not yet fully restored, in keeping with
cathedral status. In front of the tapestry barrier was placed today a
large Communion-table, with crucifix, candles, cloth and
frontal, looking suspiciously like an altar, rows of throne-like
chairs flanking it on either side. And a little farther forward,
under the crossing's groined vault itself, rose a carved wooden
pulpit, with below it an ornate lectern or reading-desk.

The
great cruciform church, undoubtedly large enough to be any bishop's
cathedral, was already all but full. Half the aristocracy of
Scotland, with all the notabilities of Edinburgh and Lothian, stood
around. There was a mighty chatter of tongues, calling out, exchange
of greetings and pleasantries, laughter, more suitable for a
fairground than a church. Montrose said as much to Rothes, whom he
found installed as his neighbour.

'And
whose blame might that be? It's no' godly, I'll grant you. But if the
bishops will make o' the kirk a place as full o' mummery and show as
a playhouse, then theirs the consequence, say I. Eh, Archie?'

Napier
looked around him distastefully, at all the colour, style and
fashion. 'I'd say there's more come here today to see and be seen,
than to worship God, John.'

'Aye,
so. But we're no' here to worship, are we? We're here, on the King's
royal command, transmitted by His Beneficence the Archbishop o' St
Andrews, Chancellor o' this realm. To witness the institution o' a
royal edict. Nothing more. No' to worship our Maker.'

Montrose
cleared his throat. 'It may be so. But I hope nevertheless, my lord,
that we get through this in decency. If we take it upon ourselves to
question, and seek change, the King's commands, it must be on a plane
of highest principle. And it must be seen of all to be so. If we give
a lead in this, it must be with dignity. I mislike the bearing, the
attitudes, I see here this morning. In a house of prayer.'

‘
Huh-huh.
Nae doubt you're right, James. But all men -aye, and all women, for
that matter - maybe havena just your fine sentiments and lofty
ideals! We're no' all Jamie Graham o' Montrose!'

Directly,
then, the other put it to him. 'You have not arranged any
disturbance, my lord? Any demonstration, within this church, against
these ordinances? I hope not For it is no place for such. It could do
our cause much harm. Set moderate men against us. You must see it?'

'Och,
man - I've no' arranged anything!' Rothes declared. But there was a
slight emphasis on the personal in that. 'We're here, as commanded,
to hear this new prayer-book read. If folk dinna like it, and choose
to make that plain, am I to blame
...
‘

'My
lord,' Montrose said urgently, 'you have taken the lead in this
matter. You are one of the foremost nobles in the Land. And one of
the best liked, the most respected. Many will trim their sails to
yours. You cannot say that what happens here is no concern of yours,
no blame of yours. If folly prevails here, you must bear part of the
responsibility. As indeed must I. And Archie. If you know of aught
which might serve our cause ill, cause offence to moderate men -then
I say it is your duty to seek halt it, before it is too late.'

'Duty,
a' God's name!
You
see
fit to tell me my duty?'

'I
do, my lord. Since you saw fit to come to tell me mine, at
Kincardine, last November, And hence I am here.'

'And
I?
Suppose I conceive my duty otherwise, sir?'

Then
I suggest that you have not considered it sufficiently. Your duty
cannot be to allow happen anything which might force men to abandon
our cause. Men
...
such as myself'

Rothes
swallowed, his double chins quivering. Then, without another
word, he rose abrupdy from his pew and stalked off.

"You
did that featly, stoutly, Jamie,' Napier said. 'I know no other who
could, or would, have forced Rothes so. You are heeding Tom Hope's
words, I think ?'

'I
am but looking to my own name and reputation. And yours, Archie. If
Leslie wants Graham to dance, he must pipe a tune that Graham will
heed.
You
sent
him to me, my friend — you should have told him so,'

His
brother-in-law nodded mildly, a faint smile about his lips. 'I am
glad that I sent him,' he said.

The
great church was nearly full, all the stone-flagged nave being
tightly packed with people, Montrose, presently, gestured towards the
front of these serried ranks. 'Is that not strange?' he said. 'All
this notable crowd of the quality. Yet there, in the forefront, in
the best places of all, these wifies sitting there on their stools.
Common folk of- the town,
are
they not? Yet you said that such were being kept from this service?
That they had their service earlier? Of set purpose.'

It
was true. Whatever the official fiat about the ordinary congregation
being given their normal and non-prayer-book service early this
momentous day, the fact was that the first three or four rows of the
close-packed ranks of the standing quality was composed of most
evidently
common
folk,
women all, sitting on little folding
stools
and
looking entirely assured and pleased with themselves.

'You
mistake,
Jamie,' Napier explained. These are not Edinburgh wifies - not of the
general run. Common folk they may be. They are maids - ladies' maids
and tiring-women. It is a custom here. They come early to the kirk,
with their mistresses' stools, to win a good place for their betters.
Then, just before the service starts, their ladyships can come in at
their ease and take over the stools - and the maids go home and make
the beds or prepare the dinner! All most suitably devised, in
Edinburgh fashion!' He looked beyond. 'Only
today,
I
fear, the good ladies will be highly outraged, and denied their
divine worship! For, as you see, the place has become so tight jammed
that there
will
be
no room for even the most formidable dame to win through. I think the
abigails must needs serve as deputies throughout
I
Bishop
Lindsay will be as distressed as the mistresses - what ever the Lord
God thinks
'

'Save
us - that is Edinburgh for you! Small wonder it gets the name it has.
..'

Montrose's
voice was drowned by a hullabaloo from without, shouts and
catcalls growing ever louder, and through it the tuck of drum. The
former much prevailed over the latter - and it did not sound like
cheers and applause.

'A
mob,' James Graham said, frowning. 'Trouble in the
Streets,'

'It
is the Town Guard, marching to their drums. But I fear it is not the
Guard that is being snouted at
'

Inside
the church the noise abated notably as attention was concentrated on
what went on outside. It seemed as though
the
good folk of
Edinburgh,
even though denied their normal forenoon service,
were
not
going to
be
left
out entirely from the day's proceedings.

The
door of the north transept was thrown open and, preceded by the
city macebearer, the Provost in scarlet and ermine and the
magistrates in their robes, came in, pacing rather faster than their
usual procession and looking distinctly ill-at-ease, not to say
out-of-breath. Two files of the Town Guard marched inside with them,
and the doors were closed, shutting out the noise somewhat. As the
magistrates moved to their allotted places, Rothes returned to
his seat.

'Folk
out there who think differently frae James Graham
1'
he
said grimly. 'Henderson had the rights of it.' 'What do you mean?'

'I
mean that these outside, the common folk, are shouting against Popery
and idolatry, man. They're no' caring about the prayer-book. It's the
surplices and the pictures they're crying at. Half the town's there,
yelling abominations and damnation to the Papes'