by John Galt
CHAPTER V
The next day was like a cried fair in St. Andrews. All the country fromayont Cupar, and many reformed and godly persons even from Dundee andPerth, were gathered into the city to hear the trial of Master WalterMill. The streets were filled with horses and men with whips in theirhands and spurs at their heels, and there was a great going to and froamong the multitude; but, saving in its numbers, the congregation of thepeople was in no other complexion either like a fair or a tryst. Everyvisage was darkened with doure thoughts; none spoke cheerfully aloud;but there was whispering and muttering, and ever and anon the auld menwere seen wagging their heads in sorrow, while the young cried often"Shame! shame!" and with vehement gestures clave the air with theirright hands, grasping their whips and staffs with the vigour ofindignation.
At last the big bell of the cathedral began to jow, at the doleful soundof which there was, for the space of two or three minutes, a silence andpause in the multitude as if they had been struck with panic andconsternation, for till then there was a hope among them that thepersecutors would relent; but the din of the bell was as the signal ofdeath and despair, and the people were soon awakened from theirastonishment by the cry that "the bishops are coming," whereat therewas a great rush towards the gates of the church, which was presentlyfilled, leaving only a passage up the middle aisle.
In the quire a table was spread with a purple velvet cloth, and at theupper end, before the high place of the mass, was a stool of state forthe Archbishop; on each side stood chairs for the Bishops of Murray,Brechin and Caithness and his other suffragans, summoned to sit injudgment with him.
My grandfather, armed and wearing the Archbishop's livery, was withthose that guarded the way for the cruel prelates, and by the pressureof the throng in convoying them into their place, he was driven withinthe screen of the quire, and saw and heard all that passed.
When they had taken their seats, Master Mill was brought before themfrom the prior's chamber, whither he had been secretly conducted earlyin the morning, to the end that his great age might not be seen of thepeople to work on their compassion. But, notwithstanding the forethoughtof this device, when he came in, his white hair and his saintly look andhis feeble, tottering steps softened every heart. Even the very legateof Antichrist, the Archbishop himself, my grandfather said, wasevidently moved, and for a season looked at the poor infirm old man ashe would have spared him, and a murmur of universal commiseration ranthrough the church.
On being taken to the bottom of the table and placed fornent theArchbishop, Master Mill knelt down and prayed for support in a voice sofirm and clear and eloquent that all present were surprised, for it rungto the farthest corner of that great edifice, and smote the hearts ofhis oppressors as with the dread of a menacing oracle.
Sir Andrew Oliphant, who acted as clerk and chancellor on the occasion,began to fret as he heard him thus strengthened of the Lord, and criedpeevishly,--
"Sir Walter Mill, get up and answer, for you keep my lords here toolong."
He, however, heeded not this command, but continued undisturbed till hehad finished his devotion, when he rose and said,--
"I am bound to obey God more than man, and I serve a mightier Lord thanyours. You call me Sir Walter, but I am only Walter. Too long was I oneof the Pope's knights; but now say what you have to say."
Oliphant was somewhat cowed by this bold reply, and he bowed down, andturning over his papers, read a portion of one of them to himself, andthen raising his head, said,--
"What thinkest thou of priests' marriage?"
The old man looked bravely towards the bishops, and answered with anintrepid voice,--
"I esteem marriage a blessed bond, ordained by God, approved by Christ,and made free to all sorts of men; but you abhor it, and in the meantimetake other men's wives and daughters; you vow chastity, and keep itnot."
My grandfather at these words looked unawares towards the Archbishop,thinking of what he had seen in the lodging of Mistress Kilspinnie, andtheir eyes chancing to meet, his Grace turned his head suddenly away asif he had been rebuked.
Divers other questions were then put by Oliphant touching thesacraments, the idolatry of the mass, and transubstantiation, with otherpoints concerning bishops and pilgrimages, and the worshipping of God inunconsecrated places, to all which Master Mill answered in so brave amanner, contrary to the papists, that even Oliphant himself often lookedreproved and confounded. At last the choler of that sharp weapon ofpersecution began to rise, and he said to him sternly,--
"If you will not recant I will pronounce sentence against you."
"I know," replied Master Mill, with an apostolic constancy andfortitude, "I know that I must die once, and therefore, as Christ saidto Judas, What thou doest do quickly. You shall know that I will notrecant the truth, for I am corn and not chaff. I will neither be blownaway by the wind nor burst with the flail, but will abide both."
At these brave words a sough of admiration sounded through the church,but, instead of deterring the prelates from proceeding with their wickedpurpose, it only served to harden their hearts and to rouse their anger,for when they had conferred a few minutes apart, Oliphant was ordered tocondemn him to the fire, and to deliver him over to the temporalmagistrates to see execution done.
No sooner was the sentence known, than a cry like a howl of wrath rosefrom all the people, and the provost of the town, who was present withthe bailies, hastily quitted the church and fled, abhorring the task,and fearful it would be put upon him to see it done, he being alsobailie of the Archbishop's regalities.
When the sentence was pronounced, the session of the court wasadjourned, and the bishops, as they were guarded back to the castle,heard many a malison from the multitude who were ravenous against them.
The aged martyr being led back to the prior's chamber, was, under cloudof night, taken to the castle; but my grandfather saw no more of him,nor of Master Meldrum, the seneschal; for there was a great fear amongthe bishops' men that the multitude would rise and attempt a rescue; andmy grandfather, not being inclined to go so far with his disguise as tofight against that cause, took occasion, in the dusk of the evening, toslip out of the castle, and to hide himself in the town, being resolved,after what he had witnessed, no longer to abide, even as a spy, in aservice which his soul loathed.
All the night long there was a great commotion in the streets, andlights in many houses, and a sound of lamentation mingled with rage. Thenoise was as if some dreadful work was going on. There was no shouting,nor any sound of men united together, but a deep and hoarse murmur roseat times from the people, like the sound of the bandless waves of thesea when they are driven by the strong impulses of the tempest. Thespirit of the times was indeed upon them, and it was manifest to mygrandfather that there wanted that night but the voice of a captain tobid them hurl their wrath and vengeance against the towers andstrongholds of the oppressors.
At the dawn of day the garrison of the castle came forth, and, on thespot where the martyrdom of Mr George Wishart had been accomplished, astake was driven into the ground, and faggots and barrels of tar wereplaced around it, piled up almost as high as a man; in the middle, nextto the stake, a place was left for the sufferer.
But when all things were prepared, no rope could be had--no one in allthe town would give or sell a cord to help that sacrifice of iniquity,nor would any of the magistrates come forth to see the execution done,so it was thought for a time that the hungry cruelty of the persecutorswould be disappointed of its banquet. One Somerville, however, who wasofficer of the Archbishop's guard, bethought himself, in this extremity,of the ropes wherewith his master's pavilion was fastened, and he wentand took the same; and then his men brought forth the aged martyr, atthe sight of whom the multitude set up a dreadful imprecation, the roarand growling groan of which was as if a thousand furious tigresses hadbeen robbed of their young. Many of Somerville's halberdiers lookedcowed, and their faces were aghast with terror; and some cried,compassionately, as they saw the blessed old man b
rought, with his handstied behind him, to the stake, "Recant, recant!"
The monks and friars of the different monasteries, who were all thereassembled around, took up the word, and bitterly taunting him, criedlikewise, "Recant, recant and save thyself!" He, however, replied tothem with an awful austerity,--
"I marvel at your rage, ye hypocrites, who do so cruelly pursue theservants of God. As for me, I am now fourscore and two years old, and bycourse of nature cannot live long; but hundreds shall rise out of myashes who shall scatter you, ye persecutors of God's people."
Sir Andrew Oliphant, who was that day the busiest high priest of thehorrible sacrifice, at these words pushed him forward into the midst ofthe faggots and fuel around the stake. But, nothing moved by thisremorseless indignity, the martyr looked for a moment at the pile with acountenance full of cheerful resignation, and then requested permissionto say a few words to the people.
"You have spoken too much," cried Oliphant, "and the bishops areexceedingly displeased with what you have said."
But the multitude exclaimed, "Let him be heard! let him speak what hepleases! Speak, and heed not Oliphant." At which he looked towards themand said,--
"Dear friends, the cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime laidto my charge, though I acknowledge myself a miserable sinner, but onlyfor the defence of the truths of Jesus Christ, as set forth in the Oldand New Testaments."
He then began to pray, and while his eyes were shut, two of Somerville'smen threw a cord with a running loop round his body, and bound him tothe stake. The fire was then kindled, and at the sight of the smoke themultitude uttered a shriek of anguish, and many ran away, unable to bearany longer the sight of that woful tragedy. Among others, my grandfatheralso ran, nor halted till he was come to a place under the rocks on thesouth side of the town, where he could see nothing before him but thelonely desert of the calm and soundless ocean.