This convicted calumny, which never gained the smallest credit at the time, would not have deserved notice, had it not been revived, after the Reformer’s death, by the popish writers, who, having caught hold of the report, and dressed it out in all the horrid colours which malice or credulity could suggest, circulated it industriously, by their publications, throughthe continent. Though I had not been able to trace their slanders to this source, the atrocity of the imputed crimes, the unspotted reputation which Knox uniformly maintained among all his contemporaries, the glaring self‑contradictions of the accusers, and, above all, the notorious spirit of slander and defamation of which they have long stood convicted in the learned world, would have been grounds sufficient for rejecting such charges with detestation.Those who are acquainted with the writings of that period will not think that I speak too strongly; such as are ignorant of them may be satisfied by looking into the notes.[115]
The queen flattered herself that she had at last caught the Reformer in an offence, which would infallibly subject him to punishment. During her residence at Stirling, in the month of August, the domestics whom she left behind her in Holyroodhouse, celebrated the popish worship with greater publicity than had been usual when she was present; and, at the time when the sacrament of the supper was dispensed in Edinburgh, they revived certain superstitious practices which had been laid aside by the Roman catholics, since the establishment of the Reformation. This boldness offended the protestants, and some of them went down to the palace to mark the inhabitants who repaired to the service. Perceiving numbers entering, they burst into the chapel, and presenting themselves at the altar, which was prepared for mass, asked the priest how he “durst beso malapert” as to proceed in that manner, when the queen was absent. Alarmed at this intrusion, the mistress of the household dispatched a messenger to the comptroller, who was attending sermon in St Giles’s church, desiring him to come instantly to save her life and the palace.Having hurried down, accompanied with the magistrates and a guard, the comptroller found every thing quiet, and no appearance of tumult, except what was occasioned by the retinue which he brought along with him.[116] When the report of this affair was conveyed to the queen, she declared her determination not to return to Edinburgh until this riot was punished, and indicted two of the protestants, who had entered the chapel, to stand trial “for forethought felony, hamesucken, and invasion of the palace.” Fearing an intention to proceed to extremities against these men, and that their condemnation would be a preparative to some hostile attempt against their religion, the protestants in Edinburghresolved that Knox, agreeably to a commission which he had received from the church, should write a circular letter to the principal gentlemen of their persuasion, informing them of the circumstances, and requesting their presence on the day of trial.He wrote the letter according to their request[117] A copy of it having come into the hands of Sinclair, bishop of Ross, and president of the Court of Session, who was a great personal enemy to Knox, he conveyed it immediately to the queen at Stirling. She communicated it to the privy council, who, to her great satisfaction, pronounced it treasonable; but, to give the greater solemnity to the proceedings,it was resolved that an extraordinary meeting of the counsellors, assisted by other noblemen, should be held at Edinburgh, in the end of December, to try the cause; and the Reformer was summoned to appear before this convention.[118]
Previously to the day of trial, great influence wasused in private to persuade him to acknowledge a fault, and to throw himself on the queen’s mercy. This he peremptorily refused to do. The master of Maxwell, (afterwards lord Herries,) with whom he had long been intimate, threatened him with the loss of his friendship, and told him that he would repent, if he did not submit to the queen, for men would not bear with him as they had hitherto done. He replied, that he did not understand such language: he had never opposed her majesty except in the article of religion, and surely it was not meant that he should bow to her in that matter; if God stood by him, (which he would do as long as he confided in him, and preferred his glory to his own life,) he regarded little how men should behave towards him; nor did he know wherein they had borne with him, unless in hearing the word of God from his mouth, which, if they should reject, he would lament it, but the injury would be their own.
The earl of Murray, and secretary Maitland, sent for him to the clerk register’s house, and had a long conversation with him to the same purpose. They represented the pains which they had taken to mitigate the queen’s resentment, and intimated that nothing could save him but a timely submission. His reply was similar to that which he had given to Maxwell, that he never would confess a fault when he was conscious of none, and had not learned to “cry treason at every thing which the multitude called treason, nor to fear what they feared.” The wily secretary, finding him determined to abide the consequencesof a trial, endeavoured to bring on a dispute on the subject, with the view of ascertaining the grounds on which he meant to defend himself; but Knox, aware of his craft, declined the conversation, and told him it would be foolish to intrust with his defence one who had already prejudged his cause, and pronounced him guilty.
On the day appointed for the trial, the public anxiety was raised to a high pitch, and the palace‑yard and avenues were crowded with people, who waited to learn the result. The Reformer was conducted to the chamber in which the lords were already assembled, and engaged in consultation. When the queen had taken her seat, and perceived Knox standing uncovered at the foot of the table, she burst into a loud fit of laughter. “That man,” said she, “made me weep, and shed never a tear himself: I will now see if I can make him weep.” The secretary opened the proceedings with greater gravity, by stating, in a speech addressed to the Reformer, the reasons why the queen had convened him before her nobility. “Let him acknowledge his own handwriting,” said the queen, “and then we shall judge of the contents of the letter.” A copy of the circular letter being handed to him, he looked at the subscription, and owned that it was his; adding, that though he had subscribed a number of blanks, he had such confidence in the fidelity of the scribe, that he was ready to acknowledge the contents as well as the subscription. “You have done more than I would have done,” said Maitland. “Charity is not suspicious,”replied the Reformer. “Well, well,” said the queen, “read your own letter, and then answer to such things as shall be demanded of you.”—“I will do the best I can,” said he; and having read the letter with an audible voice, returned it to the queen’s advocate, who was commanded to accuse him.
“Heard you ever, my lords, a more despiteful and treasonable letter?” said the queen, looking round the table. “Mr Knox, are you not sorry from your heart, and do you not repent that such a letter has passed your pen, and from you has come to the knowledge of others?” said Maitland. “My lord secretary, before I repent, I must be taught my offence.”—“Offence! if there were no more but the convocation of the queen’s lieges, the offence cannot be denied.”—“Remember yourself, my lord; there is a difference between a lawful convocation and an unlawful. If I have been guilty in this, I offended oft since I came last into Scotland; for what convocation of the brethren has ever been to this hour, unto which my pen served not?”—“Then was then, and now is now,” said the secretary; “we have no need of such convocations as sometimes we have had.”—“The time that has been is even now before my eyes,” rejoined the Reformer; “for I see the poor flock in no less danger than it has been at any time before, except that the devil has got a vizor upon his face. Before, he came in with his own face, discovered by open tyranny, seeking the destruction of all that refused idolatry; and then, I think, you will confess the brethren lawfully assembled themselves for defence of their lives;and now the devil comes under the cloak of justice, to do that which God would not suffer him to do by strength”——
“What is this?” interrupted her majesty, who was offended that he should be allowed such liberty of speech, and thought that she could bring him more closely to the question than any of her counsellors. “What is this? Methinks you trifle with him. Who gave him authority to make convocation of my lieges? Is not that treason?”—“No, madam,” replied lord Ruthven, displeased at the keenness which the queen showed in the cause; “for he makes convocation of the people to hear prayers and sermon almost daily; and whatever your grace or others will think thereof, we think it no treason.”—“Hold your peace,” said the queen; “and let him make answer for himself.”—“I began, madam,” resumed Knox, “to reason with the secretary (whom I take to be a better dialectician than your grace) that all convocations are not unlawful; and now my lord Ruthven has given the instance.”—“I will say nothing against your religion, nor against your convening to your sermons; but what authority have you to convocate my subjects when you will, without my commandment?” He answered, that at his own will he had never convened four persons in Scotland, but at the orders of his brethren he had given many advertisements, and great multitudes had assembled in consequence of them; and if her grace complained that this had been done without her command, he begged leave to answer, that the same objection might be made toall that had been done respecting the reformation of religion in this kingdom. He had never, he said, loved to stir up tumults—never been a preacher of rebellion; on the contrary, he had always taught the people to obey princes and magistrates in all their lawful commands. If he had been more active than the rest of his brethren in calling extraordinary assemblies of the protestants, it was owing to a charge which he had received from the church to do so, as often as he saw a necessity for such meetings, and especially when religion was exposed to danger; and he had repeatedly requested to be exonerated from this irksome and invidious charge, but could not obtain his wish. He must, therefore, be convicted by a just law, before he would profess sorrow for what he had done: he thought he had done no wrong.
“You shall not escape so,” said the queen. “Is it not treason, my lords, to accuse a prince of cruelty? I think there be acts of parliament against such whisperers.” Several of their lordships said that there were such laws. “But wherein can I be accused of this?” asked Knox. “Read this part of your own bill,” said the queen, who showed herself an acute prosecutor. She then ordered the following sentence to be read from his letter:—“This fearful summons is directed against them, [the two persons who were indicted,] to make no doubt a preparative on a few, that a door may be opened to execute cruelty upon a greater multitude.”—“Lo!” exclaimed the queen, exultingly; “what say you to that?” The eyes of the assembly were fixed on the Reformer, andall were anxious to know what answer he would make to this charge.
“Is it lawful for me, madam, to answer for myself? or, shall I be condemned unheard?”—“Say what you can; for I think you have enough to do,” said the queen. “I will first then desire of your grace, madam, and of this most honourable audience, whether your grace knows not, that the obstinate papists are deadly enemies to all such as profess the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that they most earnestly desire the extermination of them, and of the true doctrine that is taught within this realm?” Mary was silent; but the lords, with one voice, exclaimed, “God forbid, that ever the lives of the faithful, or yet the staying of the doctrine, stood in the power of the papists! for just experience has taught us what cruelty lies in their hearts.”—“I must proceed, then,” said the Reformer. “Seeing that I perceive that all will grant, that it was a barbarous thing to destroy such a multitude as profess the gospel of Christ within this realm, which oftener than once or twice they have attempted to do by force,—they, by God and by his providence being disappointed, have invented more crafty and dangerous practices, to wit, to make the prince a party under colour of law; and so what they could not do by open force, they shall perform by crafty deceit. For who thinks, my lords, that the insatiable cruelty of the papists (within this realm I mean) shall end in the murdering of these two brethren, now unjustly summoned, and more unjustly tobe accused?—And therefore, madam, cast up, when you list, the acts of your parliament, I have offended nothing against them; for I accuse not, in my letter, your grace, nor yet your nature, of cruelty. But I affirm yet again, that the pestilent papists, who have inflamed your grace against those poor men at this present, are the sons of the devil, and therefore must obey the desires of their father, who has been a liar and manslayer from the beginning.”—“You forget yourself! you are not now in the pulpit,” said the chancellor. “I am in the place where I am demanded of conscience to speak the truth; and therefore the truth I speak, impugn it whoso list.” He added, again addressing the queen, that persons who appeared to be of honest, gentle, and meek natures, had often been corrupted by wicked counsel; and that the papists, who had her ear, were dangerous counsellors, and such her mother had found them to be.
Mary, perceiving that nothing was to be gained by reasoning, began now to upbraid him with his harsh behaviour to her, at their last interview. He spake “fair enough” at present before the lords, she said; but on that occasion he caused her to shed many salt tears, and said, “he set not by her weeping.” This drew from him a vindication of his conduct, in the course of which he gave a narrative of that conference. After this, the secretary, having spoken with the queen, told Knox that he was at liberty to return home for that night. “I thank God and the queen’s majesty,” said he, and retired.