The History of the Reformation of Religion in Scotland / With Which Are Included Knox's Confession and The Book of Discipline

by John Knox

At the sound of the cannons which the galleys shot, the multitude were notified, and happy was he or she that first might attain the presence of the Queen. The Protestants were not the slowest, and therein they were not to be blamed. Because the Palace of Holyroodhouse was not thoroughly put in order (for her coming was more sudden than many looked for) she remained in Leith until towards the evening, and then repaired thither. In the way betwixt Leith and the Abbey, the rebels of the crafts, who had violated the authority of the magistrates, and had besieged the Provost, met the Queen. But, because she was sufficiently instructed that all they had done was in despite of religion, they were easily pardoned. Fires of joy were set forth all night, and a company of the most honest, with instruments of music and musicians, gave their salutations at her chamber window. The melody, as she alleged, liked her well; and she willed the same to be continued for some nights after.

The Mass is restored at Holyrood.

With great diligence the Lords repaired to the Queen from all quarters. So there was nothing but mirth and quietness until the next Sunday, the twenty-third of August, when preparation began to be made for that idol the Mass to be said in the chapel. This pierced the hearts of all. The godly began to bolden; and men began openly to speak, "Shall that idol be suffered again to take its place within this realm? It shall not." The Lord Lyndsay, then but Master, with the gentlemen of Fife, and others, plainly cried in the close, "The idolater Priest should die the death," according to God's law. One that carried in the candle was evil effrayed; but then began flesh and blood to show itself. No Papist, or yet any that came out of France, durst whisper. But the Lord James, the man whom all the godly did most reverence, took upon him to keep the chapel door. His best excuse was that he would stop all Scotsmen from entering in to the Mass. But it was and is sufficiently known that the door was kept, that none should have entrance to trouble the priest. After the Mass, he was committed to the protection of Lord John of Coldingham, and Lord Robert of Holyroodhouse, who then were both Protestants, and had communicated at the Table of the Lord. Betwixt them two was the priest convoyed to his chamber.

The godly departed with great grief of heart, and in the afternoon repaired to the Abbey in great companies. These gave plain signification that they could not abide that the land, which God by His power had purged from idolatry, should be polluted again in their eyes. This understood, there began complaint upon complaint. The old dontibours[179] and others that long had served in the Court, who had no remission of sins except by virtue of the Mass, cried that they would return to France without delay: they could not live without the Mass. The Queen's uncles affirmed the same. Would to God that that menyie,[180] together with the Mass, had bidden good-night to this realm for ever. So would Scotland have been rid of an unprofitable burden of devouring strangers, and of the malediction of God that has stricken and yet will strike in punishment of idolatry.

The Council tolerates the Mass at Court.

The Council having assembled, disputation was had as to what was the next remedy. Politic heads were sent to the gentlemen, with these and like persuasions, "Why, alas, will ye chase our Sovereign from us? She will incontinently return to her galleys; and what then shall all realms say of us? May we not suffer her a little while? We doubt not but that she shall leave it. If we were not assured that she might be won, we should be as great enemies to her Mass as ye be. Her uncles will depart, and then shall we rule all at our pleasure. Would not we be as sorry to hurt the religion as would any of you?" With these and the like persuasions, the fervency of the brethren was quenched, and an Act was framed....

The Earl of Arran protests.

This Act and Proclamation, penned and put in form by men who had formerly professed Christ Jesus (for Papists had then neither power nor vote in the Council) was publicly proclaimed at the Market Cross of Edinburgh. No man reclaimed or made repugnance to it, with the sole exception of the Earl of Arran. He, in open audience of the heralds and people, protested that he dissented that any protection or defence should be made for the Queen's domestics or any that came from France, permitting to them more than to any other subject to offend God's Majesty, and to violate the laws of the realm. God's law had pronounced death against the idolater, and the laws of the realm had appointed punishment for sayers and hearers of the Mass. "I here protest," said he, "that these ought to be universally observed, and that none should be exempted, until such time as a law, as publicly made and as consonant to the law of God, shall have disannulled the former."

The Protestants are beguiled.

This boldness somewhat exasperated the Queen, and such as favoured her in that matter. As the Lords, now called the Lords of the Congregation, repaired to the town, they at the first coming showed themselves wondrously offended that the Mass was permitted; so that every man, as he came, accused those that had arrived before him: but after they had remained a certain time, they became as quiet as those who had preceded them. This perceived, a zealous and godly man, Robert Campbell of Kinyeancleuch, said to the Lord Ochiltree, "My Lord, ye are come almost the last of all; and I perceive by your anger that the fire-edge is not off you yet; but I fear that, after the holy water of the Court shall be sprinkled upon you, ye shall become as temperate as the rest. I have been here five days, and at the first I heard every man say, 'Let us hang the priest;' but, after they had been twice or thrice at the Abbey, all that fervency was past. I think there must be some enchantment whereby men are bewitched." And, in very deed, so it came to pass. The Queen's flattering words, ever crying, "Conscience, conscience: it is a sore thing to constrain the conscience;" and the subtle persuasions of her supposts[181] (we mean even of some who at one time were judged most fervently with us) blinded all men. They allowed themselves to believe—"She will be content to hear the preaching; and so no doubt but she may be won." And thus by all it was concluded to suffer her for a time.