THE trial of the Master of Gray took place in the Council chamber at Holvroodhouse, not before any mere panel of professional judges, but in front of a very specially selected section of his fellow Privy Councillors – Angus, Bothwell, Mar, Hamilton, Home, the Master of Glamis and so on – in fact, the Ruthven lords, almost to a man. The King was present, though looking markedly ill at ease. David Gray sat amongst the other clerks and secretaries as was his wont, none ordering otherwise.
Patrick, though led in under guard, to find his accuser and supposed fellow-prisoner esconced comfortably beside the president and acting Chancellor, appeared to be quite the most coolly assured and confident person in the room, even though his clothing lacked something of its usual excellence.
The atmosphere, from the first, was strained, unreal In all the company none seemed willing to catch the sardonic eye of the man who had so often presided over this same company in this same chamber, and who was now the accused. Unease and uncertainty clothed them all in an uncomfortable garment, which some wore with nervous posturings, some with brash noisiness, and some with glum silence. No single Catholic lord was present.
Maitland, sitting in the chair that formerly had been Patrick's, opened the proceedings as acting Chancellor, craving the King's permission to proceed. He at least spoke in the dull clipped pedantic voice that was his normal.
'Your Grace, my lords,' he said. 'I declare to you that Patrick, Master of Gray, Master of the King's Wardrobe and Commendator of the Abbey of Dunfermline and of many other priories and benefices of Christ's Reformed Kirk, stands before you charged with the most heinous and monstrous of all crimes, that of treason against his King and liege lord, in that, while he was himself accepted leader and preses of this most high Privy Council, did conspire to the injury of the realm, of the King's peace, and of Christ's holy Kirk. Sir William Stewart, whom all know to be an honourable and true servant of His Grace, has been the means of discovering for us this evil and base traitory. He has acted for the said Master of Gray in many close matters, as all here are aware, and has but lately come to perceive that much of the said Master's works were and are contrary to the good of the kingdom and the King's honour. For the weal of His Grace, therefore, and the greater comfort of his own conscience and soul, the said Sir William came to myself, as His Majesty's principal Secretary of State, with the matter, that His Highness might be apprised and informed. Hence these proceedings, taken upon the command of our gracious liege lord. I therefore call upon the said Sir William Stewart to speak to his charges.'
Patrick, from the other end of the great table, intervened pleasantly, quite conversationally – for no air or impression of court or trial prevailed, what with the lounging confident attitude of the accused, the discomfort of his judges and, despite the grave wording of the charges, the unimpressive aspect and manner of the speaker.
'Your Grace, my lords and friends all,' he said, smiling. 'Interested as I am, but naturally – nay, agog to hear what poor doings of mine have so inconvenienced the conscience of my good familiar and assistant, Sir William Stewart, I would nevertheless seek to spare the time of this noble and notable company, by pointing out that any findings of this court of enquiry are already invalid, the presiding judge having thus early prejudged the issue by declaring my conduct to be evil and base traitory. You will note, gentlemen, that he did not specify that the charge was such, but that Sir William – whom God succour – had discovered such to be the case. In consequence, Your Grace, I request that this enquiry be dismissed, and the charges with it, or else anew hearing fixed.'
Various emotions chased themselves across the features of his hearers – astonishment, consternation, wrath, even relief.
Maitland hurriedly leaned over, stooping, to murmur something to the King, who blinked rapidly, pulled at his ear, wagged his head, and then nodded.
'Aye. A slip o' the tongue just, my lords. Och, nothing mair. Sir John but meant that the charges were thus, no' the deeds. No' the deeds, my lords. Aye. Let Sir William proceed. He has… he has our royal attention.'
Stewart rose, bowed, and addressed himself to a pile of papers. 'This first charge, Your Grace and my lords, refers to the traffic of the Master of Gray with the King of France, the King of Spain, the Duke of Guise and the Pope of Rome, for the injury of our true Protestant religion. I testify that he wrote letters -I was indeed the bearer of sundry of them – to these princes, proposing the invasion of certain portions of the realm of England by the forces of the said princes, to the hurt of the Protestant faith.'
Patrick nodded agreeably. 'That is not a charge, but a statement of fact,' he averred. 'It was done with the full knowledge of the King and of Sir John Maitland, to the end that it might weigh against Elizabeth in the matter of her sore oppression of our beloved Queen Mary, mother of the King. If most of the noble lords present do not know of it, that is because they were at the time unfortunately banished this realm and Court on a charge of treason, and dwelling in the said realm of England under the protection of the said Elizabeth, If charge there be here, surely it should be preferred by the Queen of England, whose realm was threatened, not by the King in whose name the threat was made!'
'Ummm,'James said. 'Och well.'
Stewart cleared his throat, and went on hurriedly. The Master of Gray further sought to persuade His Grace to allow liberty of conscience and worship, in the matter of religion, to the admission of wicked heresy and contrary to the laws of the Kirk and the statutes of this realm.'
'Lord – is that treason? To seek to persuade! I am a traitor self-confessed, then! As, of course, are you likewise, Sir William – who sought to persuade the King, with my assistance, to alter the law passed forfeiting the estates and property of your unhappy brother the Earl of Arran! Indeed, each of you noble lords committed treason, in such case, when you pleaded with the King, through my own self as mediator, to overturn the sentence of banishment passed upon you all after yon ploy at Ruthven! Certes, when a minister of the Crown may not advise the King to alter a law, then there will be no more Ministers, and soon no more Grown!'
Angus cleared his throat loudly. 'Here is a minor matter, i' faith. Let us to the greater evils,' he declared.
'Indeed, yes,' the prisoner agreed affably.
Stewart, after a glance at Maitland, went on. 'Secondly, I charge that the said Master of Gray planned and intended the assassination, for his own ill purposes, of certain of His Grace's Ministers, to wit, Sir John Maitland, Vice-Chancellor; Sir James Home of Cowdenknowes; and the Collector-General, Master Robert Douglas, Provost of Lincluden. This was to be done at Lauder…'
'Wait a bit, wait a bit,' Patrick urged, actually laughing. 'Did I hear you to say planned and intended, Sir William? Man, man – have I not taught you better than this? This will never do. What a man may plan and intend is no crime – only what he does or attempts to do. Will Sir William tell us of any occasion on which I attempted, or occasioned to be attempted, the assassination of the good Sir John, Sir James and the Reverend Master Douglas… since it seems apparent, most happily, that the attempt lacked something of success?'
'I heard the plotting of it. In a room of this palace…'
'Heard, friend? With whom did I plot this intention, I wonder?'
'That I could not see. It was done secretly, behind a closed, door.'
'Ah – you did not see! Then how do you know that it was I who spoke?'
'By your voice. I ken your voice full well…'
Through a closed door, sir, you thought that you heard me expressing the intention to do way with these three gentlemen? A slender charge, my lords, is it not? Heigho -I can give you a better, here and now – and through no closed door! I say, may the devil roast and blister one, Sir William Stewart, who owes me the sum of 4,000 pounds Scots, which I intend to recover even if I have to wring his neck to do so!' Patrick's smile was wide, utterly inoffensive. 'There, my lords, you have plan, intention and dire threat in one! Yet I dare assert that none here will charge me with having committed any offence – much less a treason. So much for Sir William's testimony!'
Out of the involuntary laughter and comment, Bothwell spoke. 'You deny, then, that you plotted against Maitland's life?'
'There is no need to deny anything so flimsy, my lord. A charge based on the length of Sir William's ears, the depth of his pocket, and his interpretation of a supposed conversation with somebody unknown, represents no charge at all. Even – Even if it was a crime to intend'
'You will not deny that you have ever misliked me, Master of Gray,' Maitland interposed stiffly. "That you have worked against my endeavours, and spitefully used me?'
'I do not deny, sir, that there are others of the King's Ministers for whom I have more personal esteem, with whom I would sooner spend a night! But do not take it to heart, Sir John – it is all a matter of' taste, is it not?'
The Lord Home guffawed loudly, and not a few of his cornpanions grinned or covered mouths with hands.
'Proceed with the charges,' the acting Chancellor snapped.
'Yes, do,' the accused nodded. 'Now that we all know why this peculiar impeachment has been brought!'
Stewart rumbled amongst his papers uneasily. 'It is thirdly charged, that the Master of Gray did counterfeit the King's royal stamp, and did employ the same to stay the King of France from his intention of sending an army of soldiers to Scotland on King James his royal mother's behalf'
Patrick looked straight at James, who kept his head down. 'I have been using the King's royal stamp for many months, with the King's full knowledge and agreement – as must any of the King's Ministers… not least Sir John himself. I had a new stamp made, yes – since the old one was much worn and the imprint scarce to be made out. Do not you all, my lords, do the same with your seals as they wear out? But do you name the new a counterfeit of the old… or just a replacement?'
'It was done without the King's authority,' Maitland declared.
'Certainly. I conceive His Grace to have more important matters to attend to than the replacing of his stamps! As for the staying of the King of France his soldiers, my letter was to suggest that His Most Christian Majesty use his men for the invasion of England rather than land them upon this realm. It occurred to me, perhaps wrongly, gentlemen, that with the Catholic lords entreating the said King of France, Philip of Spain, and the Pope, to send troops here for their own purposes, it might be less than convenient to have some thousands of his Christian and Catholic Majesty's soldiers already secure on Scottish soil! Was I mistaken?'
There was no doubt as to what the Protestant Ruthven lords thought of that, however anxious they might be to dissemble their feelings.
The next charge, man,' Angus jerked.
'It relates, my lords, to His Grace's proposed marriage to the Princess Anne, the King of Denmark's daughter,' Stewart went on. The Master of Gray, consistently and without due warrant, has sought to impede such marriage, to our liege lord's injury and the ill of his realm, in order that a Papist and idolatrous woman be chosen instead.'
'And the name of this Papist idolatress, sir?'
'What matters her name…?'
'Much. Since you have named the one lady, you must name the other.'
'You cannot gainsay that you have been against the Danish match?' Maitland challenged.
Patrick shrugged.'I have seen the lady's portrait, and conceive that His Grace might do better!' he answered lightly. 'Moreover, I have not heard that His Majesty of Denmark is so well endowed with possessions as to provide a dowry which will, h'm, paint the said portrait fairer! If such well-wishes for our dear prince's future happiness add up to treason, then condemn me out of hand, my lords. Off with my head!'
'You have other charges yet, I think, Sir William?' the young Earl of Mar said, impatiently. 'Let us have done with this play-acting.'
'Aye – enough o' this. Let us to the heart o' the matter.' 'Speak up, man.'
Stewart stroked his scanty beard. 'To be sure. There is my assured knowledge, through long and close working with the Master of Gray, that he has laboured for the alternation and troubling of the present estate of Scotland, in many matters which might have destroyed the King's realm. Which works, if they had taken effect, might have endangered His Majesty's person, thereby committing the crime of treason…'
'Might have…! If… Might have…!' Patrick scoffed. He snapped fingers in the air, "That for your further evidence! In your generalities, sir, you are as enfeebled as in your particulars. No word that you have spoken would convince of my guilt the most heather-toed sheriff in all this land – much less the lords of His Grace's Privy Council. Indeed, I am ashamed for you, man -I had thought that I bad trained you in statecraft better than this!' He turned a scornful shoulder on his accuser, and squarely faced the ranked Council. 'As for you, my lords,' he said with easy authority, as though he still presided over them. 'I need not tell you that your time has been wasted quite, this day. Nothing that has been put before you represents other than the fact that at sundry times Sir John Maitland has disagreed with my policies for His Grace's realm. But disagreed within himself, mark you – not, as was his plain duty in such case, before this Privy Council. I submit that all that you have before you here is the evidence of the spite and spleen of a small and twisted mind. The mind not of Stewart, my lords, for he is but a poor paid creature, unworthy of your attention – a mere jackal where his brother once was something of a lion!
But of Secretary Maitland himself, who now presumes to sit in presidency over your noble lordships…'
The acting Chancellor's gavel beat loudly on the table, but the Master of Gray spoke on, without so much as a glance towards the Chair.
'This dismal clerk, this knight of the scratching quill, now seeks to rule His Grace's Scotland! 'Mark it well, my lords! We have had many bonny masters in this realm, 'fore God – but never, I swear, such a gloomy piddling notary as this…!'
'Highness! Your Grace…!' Maitland cried, his creaking voice cracking indeed. 'This is intolerable! I protest! You must… I pray… I pray that you silence this, this scoffer, this mountebank! To speak thus, in Your Majesty's presence…!'
James, who had been alternately drawing off, sniffing at, and pulling on his heavily scented gloves, licked slack lips, and seemed to have difficulty in getting his tongue, once out,, back into its due place. 'Ooh, aye. Just that, aye,' he said thickly. 'Belike it's no proper, Sir John. You must speak otherwise, Patrick man… er, Master o' Gray. In our royal presence. Aye.'
'Sir, I intend to speak no more. I have nothing to answer in these paltry accusations. They do not merit the name of charges! I deny any and every suggestion that I have worked to other than the best interests of Your Grace and your realm. I never sought the office of Chancellor – indeed I have refused it time and again – but while I have been Your Grace's Minister it has been my duty to advise on sundry policies. If these policies have been mistaken, then it was for this Privy Council to decide and pronounce thereon. There was no need for this absurd impeachment. I rest content in the assurance of Your Grace's and your lordships' wise judgment'
'Wait a bit, man – no' so fast! Wait you,' the King mumbled. ' We are no' finished yet, Patrick. Are we, Sir John?'
'We are not Your Grace!' Maitland declared tightly, and smiled, actually smiled.
David Gray, at the clerks' table, sat forward, as indeed did most others in that great chamber. He had never before seen Maitland to smile, and the effect was somehow ominous, chilling, in the extreme. Hitherto his brother had dominated the entire proceedings. David had recognised it, better than any other, as a brilliant performance, perceiving all the innuendoes, the side-blows, the playing on weaknesses and prejudices of his hearers, the thin ice over which Patrick had skated with such apparent confidence and authority. David indeed had almost begun to believe in the possibility of an acquittal, despite the fact that he knew that this was a trumped-up trial, arranged beforehand not only by Maitland and Stewart, but by the King and the Council also; that Patrick had been selected for the role of scapegoat. The Master of Gray's personal ascendancy and consummate skill might have achieved, if not complete triumph and a reversal of the situation, at least a modified success. But, of a sudden, the entire atmosphere seemed to change at Maitland's thin smile and the King's unusual assurance and obvious knowledge of something vital yet to come.
'Aye, out with it!' Johnny Mar exclaimed. 'The matter o' the Queen.'
'Proceed, Sir William,' Maitland ordered.
Stewart leaned over the table,, and raised a hand to point at Patrick. 'I further charge that, for sumptuous reward in England, the Master of Gray did, while especial ambassador for the release and saving of the King's royal mother, conspire, advise and consent to the death of Queen Alary of this realm!'
For long moments there was complete silence in the Council Chamber, broken only by James's heavy, throaty breathing.
Patrick's voice, when at length he found it, was strangely uncertain, almost breathless. 'That is… a lie,' he said.
'We have ample proof that it is not!' Stewart assured. 'From the most lofty and certain sources. I hereby charge the Master of Gray, not only with compounding the death of the Queen, but of urging it and working for it, in foullest treachery and treason!'
Patrick stared at his accuser, seemingly all but mesmerised by the still pointing hand. The difference in his aspect and attitude from heretofore was markedly evident to all.
The stout goose-quill pen which David held, snapped broken in his hand with a crack which sounded through the room, as he gazed at his brother.
'The proofs, Sir William – let us have the proofs,' the Master of Glamis demanded, into the hush.
Stewart held up a paper. 'I have a letter here, written to Sir John Maitland as Secretary of State, by Sir Francis Walsingham, principal Secretary of State to Her Grace of England. In it he declares that after making public protest against – the sentence of death, before the Queen and her Council at Greenwich Palace, the Master of Gray did privately seek audience of Queen
Elizabeth, and there did urge and persuade her to the signing of the death warrant, which Her Grace was in doubts as to doing. He told her the words. "The dead do not bite!" and declared that while Queen Mary lived, Queen Elizabeth's own life must be in danger, thereby persuading Her Grace to the death. Moreover, he counselled that some other means might be found to encompass our princess's bloody fate, more secret and convenient than the headsman's axe, if this puked Her Grace. And he assured Elizabeth that there would be no uprising or commotion in Scotland over the said death, but only a few slogans shouted. That the folk cared not for their Queen, that the lords were hypocrites and windbags all, and that naught need be feared of fury from the King…'
'It is untrue!' Patrick cried. 'Lies – all damnable lies!' Curiously, he had turned around, so that it was at the clerk's table that he looked, not at his accuser, his King nor his judges. 'I tell you, it is false. Walsingham lies. He would divide us. He fears the invasion of his realm. He would have us fight each other, not England! It is ever the English way…'
David sat, eyes wide, but unseeeing, motionless, as though turned to stone.
'Do you deny that you had this private audience with Queen Elizabeth?' Stewart demanded, notably confident now.
'No. That I sought on our prince's direct command.' He turned to look at James. 'It was for another purpose, as His Grace knows well.'
'But you used the opportunity to press for the death of your Queen!'
'No! I deny it I would never do such a thing. You have no proof – save the accusation of Walsingham who hates me, who hates Scotland.' That was said with violence but a certain lack of assurance, and Patrick's eyes now rested on the pile of papers in front of his accuser, tensely, as though his allegation of lack of proof held a question-mark behind it, and out from those papers one might materialise which would answer his question.
'We have clear proof, other than Walsingham's word,' Stewart nodded grimly. 'Is it your wish that it should be produced, Master of Gray?' In his hand, now, was a faded folded parchment, discoloured by years.
For seconds on end there was no sound nor movement in that chamber. Patrick Gray moistened his lips, but no words came. The silence became almost unbearable. That parchment, the accursed Deed of Abdication, had been Mary's real death warrant; now, it could equally well be his own. It could condemn him, utterly. Elizabeth had played false, in the end. But… why was Stewart not reading it out? Why this asking him if he wished it to be produced? Because, of course, if it was proof of his guilt, it was also proof that Mary at her death, and for eighteen years, had been no longer true Queen of Scots – thus lowering his offence from highest treason to something less. That reluctance to publish this lost and forgotten document might yet save him…
As Patrick hesitated, on the horns of this dire dilemma, Maitland shook his head at Stewart, almost imperceptibly, and looking along at the King, nodded
It was James, therefore, who broke the throbbing silence, less than willingly it seemed. Swallowing loudly twice, he licked his hps, and after a false start, spoke. 'I… we ourself can testify to, to this matter. That the Master o' Gray willed our royal mother's death. He… he advised us that it would be best. Best for our Crown and realm. Mair than once, aye.' The King kept his lolling head down, looking at none.
Swiftly Maitland took him up. 'Your Grace – we are beholden to you. My lords, what need have we of further evidence? The King's testimony is final and cannot be overturned or questioned. The Master of Gray stands condemned of advising and contriving the death of His Grace's royal mother. If nothing else is accepted against him, this is sufficient indictment. How say you, my lords?
'Aye, he is guilty!' Bothwell exclaimed 'Guilty as Judas Iscariot!'
'After our command that he take sure and immediate action to save her, yon time!' Angus cried 'He didna believe that Elizabeth would sign the warrant! He misnamed Archie Douglas for saying that she would! And all the time – this!'
The Master of Glamis spoke gratingly. 'Always the man was a dastard – have I no' told you so? A forsworn rogue. Away with him!'
'Aye, his guilt is assured Manifest' 'My lords,' Maitland began, primly correct 'If this Council is duly…'
Patrick interrupted him urgently. 'My lords – hear me. Since His Grace has spoken, my lips are unsealed Hitherto I could not speak you plainly, owing secrecy to the King's privy affairs. But now…! You have heard His Grace's own testimony. How that I advised him for the good of his Crown and realm. I did so advise him, yes. That for Scotland's sake and his own, his mother would be better dead. I admit it Indeed I tell you, assure you, that it is so. While Mary lived, she would not abate one jot of her claim to this throne. To her, His Grace was but a child, a princeling, usurping her Grown. No King. And you, my lords, therefore, no true Council. While she lived, Elizabeth's life and throne were in danger, and there could be no peace between Scotland and England. While she lived, our prince could never be named successor to Elizabeth's throne. While she lived, Philip of Spain stood heir to Scotland – she had nominated him so. With all inducement to invade and take, in Mary's name, what she had given him. While she lived, therefore, the Protestant cause, in which I was born and reared, stood menaced., It was Mary or war, my lords.'
'Away with him! He is a Papist rat himself!'
'Heed him not He lies, as always.'
'It is the truth. Think, my lords – use the wits God has given you. You are of the Kirk, all of you – Protestant. You raised no hand to free Mary, all the years of her captivity. You were content You called her the Whore of Babylon, the Pope's Harlot! You would have none of her. Why – if I am wrong…?'
'Master of Gray,' Maitland said, hammering with his gavel. 'What you say is nothing to the point. You are impeached on a charge of treason in that, contrary to the express and solemn instruction of the King and this Council, when sent to strive and treat for the life of Mary the Queen, contrariwise you did advise and contrive her shameful and bloody death. Which infamous and treasonable deed you have admitted…'
'Not treasonable – no, sir. Since Mary was abdicate, and no longer Queen of Scots, how can it be treason?'
'Any act contrary to the King's interests and given command is treason, sir.'
''Even if His Grace knew and approved?'
'Silence, sir! How dare you drag His Majesty into your base treacheries!' Maitland exclaimed. 'Sire, we have had patience enough, have we not?'
'Aye. Oh, aye,' James agreed hurriedly.
'My lords, you have found the Master of Gray guilty of treason. The penalty of treason is death. Can any of your lordships state reason Why the said penalty of death be not passed upon the said Master of Gray?'
'No! None!'
'Away with him! Send him after Mary!'
'If any man deserves to die, Gray does.'
James half-rose, and leaned over to tap the acting Chancellor's arm, hesitantly.
Hastily Maitland spoke, feigning not to notice the King. 'You judge well, my lords. Anything less than death, and our own heads would be forfeit, I do declare! The folk are roused, as I have never known them. They will have their vengeance on their Queen's murderer, that is certain. If we fail in our plain duty, they will not deal lightly with us – nothing is surer. With any of us!' He glanced at the King now. 'The Crown itself might not survive. A people roused is no' a thing to gainsay, I tell you.'
James subsided into his Chair of State again – plucking at his lip.
Maitland stood up. 'I declare the findings of this most high Privy Council to be, then, that Patrick Master of Gray is hereby found guilty of the heinous and monstrous crime of treason against his sovereign lord King James., whom God protect, and is in consequence worthy and deserving of the punishment of death. Which punishment shall be achieved, according to the law of this realm, cutting off the said Master of Gray his head from his body, at such hour and place as the King's Grace shall command. And this is pronounced for doom. God save the King!'
'God save the King!'
'God save the King!'
'Captain of the Guard, to your duty. Tate the prisoner away, and ward him in the castle of this Edinburgh, secure on peril of your own life!'
Patrick Gray was marched from the Council Chamber, looking neither to left nor to right