CHAPTER IX.
DAVID BEATOUN ESTABLISHES HIS INFLUENCE: PERSECUTION REVIVES.
(1539.)
DAVID BEATOUN.
A man with whom we have already made acquaintance was now for eight years to play a prominent part in Scotland, and to contend energetically against the Reformation. This was David Beatoun, one of the members of the Fifeshire family, and nephew of archbishop James. He belonged to the class of minds which take their place with enthusiasm under an absolute government, and become its most formidable instruments. Thoroughly at home and highly esteemed at the court of France, it was he who had conducted the negotiations for the king’s marriage, first with Madeleine of Valois, afterwards with Mary of Lorraine. But his intent was to devote his life to a union more sublime—that of Scotland and the papacy. Animated with hearty sympathy for Gregory VII., Boniface VIII., and Innocent III., he believed, as they did, that Rome, formerly mistress of the pagan world, should now be mistress of the Christian world. In his eyes all authority emanated from her, and he was resolved to consecrate to her his life, his energies, and everything that he possessed. As he meant to fight with carnal weapons, he must attain some dignity which would invest him with authority to make use of them. He speedily attained his end. Paul III., alarmed at seeing the separation of England from Rome, and fearing lest Scotland, as she had a nephew of Henry VIII. for her king, should follow her example, was anxious to have in that country one man who would be absolutely devoted to him. David Beatoun offered himself. The pope created him cardinal in December 1538, and thenceforth the red, a color thoroughly congenial with him, became his own, and as it were his symbol. Not that he was by any means a religious fanatic; he was versed neither in theology nor in moral philosophy. He was a hierarchical fanatic. Two points above all were offensive to him in evangelical Christians: one that they were not submissive to the pope; the other, that they censured immorality in the clergy, for his own licentiousness drew on himself similar rebukes. He aimed at being in Scotland a kind of Wolsey, only with more violence and bloodshed. The one thing of moment in his eyes was that everything in church and state should bend under a twofold despotism. Endowed with large intelligence, consummate ability, and indomitable energy, he had all the qualities needed to insure success in the aim on which his mind was perpetually bent without ever being diverted from it. Passionately eager for his projects, he was insensible to the ills which must result from them. One matter alone preoccupied him: the destruction of all liberty. The papacy divined his character, and created him cardinal.
For the suppression of evangelical Christianity, which upheld the supreme authority of the Divine Word in the presence of the tiara and its oracles, Beatoun needed the royal support. His first step therefore must be to make himself master of the king. This was not difficult. The nobility had rights which they meant to make respected, and which the crown wished to take away. The king and the cardinal were naturally impelled to unite against the Gospellers and the nobles. In addition, James V., a prince of good natural endowments both of body and of mind, and of a frank and amiable disposition, was strongly inclined to sensual pleasures. In order to keep him out of the way of state affairs, the courtiers and the regent had fostered in him the taste for intrigues and adventures of gallantry, a vice which he never got rid of even after his marriage.[206] Dissolute as a man, prodigal as a king, and superstitious as a Catholic, he could not but easily fall under the sway of superior minds,[207] especially if they promised him money, and that Beatoun could do.
Henry VIII., who, like his nephew, was habitually in want of money, had sought it in the treasures of the monasteries and other ecclesiastical institutions. The King of Scotland might be tempted to follow that example. Beatoun, and the other ecclesiastical dignitaries who were about the prince, discovered a certain means of preventing it. Instead of taking the money of the clergy, they said, let the king take that of the Gospellers; let the property of those who may be condemned to death for their faith, and even that of those who, after having embraced the Reform, may abjure it, be confiscated for his majesty’s benefit. This scheme was all the more seductive in that, while it secured their wealth to the clergy, it at the same time deprived the friends of the Reformation of theirs. This was killing two birds with one stone. The plan gives a special character to the Scottish persecutions. The cruel Gardiner said in England, that when people went stag-hunting they must fire at the leader of the herd, and that the same course must be pursued in hunting the Gospellers. In Scotland it was agreed not to harass those poor Christians who had nothing to leave at their death. Why seize these lean sheep? The knife must be laid on the big fat ones—on those which have a rich fleece. War on the rich! This was the cry raised by the party of the persecutors. For about four years the sword had not been drawn from its scabbard, and the horror excited by the persecution of 1534 had, as it seemed, subsided. The Gospel had reaped advantage from the lull: the number of those who confessed Christ as their only Saviour had increased, and thus the irritation of the priests was soon aroused again.
WAR ON THE RICH.
Martin Balkerley, a wealthy citizen of Edinburgh, was confined in the castle at the time when David Beatoun was going to be made cardinal at Rome. The latter had already acquired great influence. As coadjutor to his uncle, the archbishop of St. Andrews, who was then advanced in years and in ill health, and whom he was to succeed, the administration of all ecclesiastical affairs was even then in his hands.[208] Balkerley, who was imprisoned for reading the prohibited books, complained as follows: ‘I have done nothing,’ said he, ‘but refuse to give up my book of matins to the officer.’ The king sent him back to Beatoun, who then referred the case to the privy council. The lords composing the council promised the accused his liberty on condition of his giving a ransom of one thousand pounds sterling, an enormous sum according to the value of money at that period. This ransom was paid on February 27, 1539, but Balkerley remained in prison. It was not enough. Beatoun, who had then been cardinal for a month or two, demanded an additional ransom of double the amount. Three rich Scotchmen offered themselves as bail on March 7, pledging themselves that the prisoner would do the king’s will. Five days later he was set at liberty. Thus the sum of three thousand pounds, paid down, was at length thought sufficient to expiate the crime of reading the New Testament.
Beatoun did not think it necessary thenceforward to have recourse to the privy council. His arrogance had increased, and he assumed a haughty air. As the consuls of ancient Rome had their lictors, who bore the fasces before them as the symbol of their power, so the cardinal, whithersoever he went, had the cross carried before him; and this symbol of the love of God, which signifies pardon, signified, when it preceded Beatoun, condemnation, and spread terror everywhere. The cardinal claimed to be master of souls, and to dispose of the lives of men. The money which he had so shamefully acquired served only to stimulate his desire to get more by the same means. Several eminent and wealthy citizens—Walter Stewart, son of Lord Ochiltree, Robert Forester, brother of the laird of Arngibbon, David Graham, John Steward, son of Lord Methven, with others belonging to the élite of Scotland—were thrown into prison. In the castles, and in the towns of Stirling, Edinburgh, Perth, and Dundee, numerous families were left desolate.[209]