Jane Seton; or, The King's Advocate: A Scottish Historical Romance
James V. from Francis I.*
* "_Item._ Foure suitts of rich arras hangings of 8 pices a suitt,
wroght with gold and silke.
"_Item._ Foure suitts of hangings of cloth-of-gold-silver, impaled
with velvett.
"_Item._ 20 Persian carpets, faire and large,"--See list of "gifts
and propynes," _Balfour's Annales_, vol. i. pp. 266-7.
On one side the arras was festooned to reveal the refreshment-rooms
which lay beyond, and the long tables, whereon lay every continental
delicacy, with the richest wines of France and Italy, all of which
the poorest Scottish artizan could procure duty free before the
union. There, too, lay one of the queen's cupboards of silver plate,
which was valued at more than a hundred thousand crowns, and watched
by four of the royal guard, with their arquebuses loaded. Chairs
covered with white velvet, brocaded with gold, and surmounted by
imperial crowns, with sofas or settles of purple velvet, were ranged
along the sides of these rooms; but the great hall was cleared of all
obstruction for the dancers. The king's musicians, among whom were
the four drummers, the four trumpeters, and three flute-players of
the queen's French band, all clad in yellow satin, occupied the music
gallery, and were just striking up king James's favourite march, _The
Battle of Harlaw_, which was then very popular in Scotland, and
remained so down to the time of Drummond of Hawthornden.
Amid the crowd of ladies, nobles, and splendidly-attired cavaliers,
who thronged the vast length of that great apartment, seeming as one
mass of velvet, silk, satin, and waving plumage of every hue, mingled
with jewels that sparkled and lace that glittered, aiguilettes,
swords and mantles, poniards and spurs, trains, ruffs, and knightly
orders--surrounded by a sea of light, for the gleaming cloth-of-gold
that covered the walls seemed nothing else--Roland looked anxiously,
but in vain, for Lady Seton, as he walked straight towards the upper
end, to present himself to the king and queen.
James leaned on the side of Magdalene's chair, conversing with her
and the six privileged ladies of honour, who sat near her, three
being on each side, occupying little stools, which were covered with
blue velvet, and called tabourettes. Among this group were Madame de
Montreuil, Mademoiselle de Brissac, and several noble Frenchwomen,
who had known Vipont in France, and greeted with a smile of welcome.
James was magnificently clad in his favourite dress of white brocaded
satin, slashed with rose-coloured silk. His four orders (the first
in Europe) sparkled on his neck, and the band of his slouched blue
bonnet shone like a zone with diamonds. His rich brown hair fell in
ringlets on his ruff, and his dark hazel eyes were bright with gaiety
and pride. He wore a short mantle, a long sword, sheathed in blue
velvet, buff boots, and gold spurs. His white silk stockings were
the first seen in Scotland, and the motto of the Garter encircled his
left leg.
With that frankness which made him so charming to all, this handsome
young monarch immediately approached Sir Roland, and met him half way.
"Here comes my Vipont!" said he; "ah! thou art a fine fellow, Roland.
I would know thee for a noble, or a soldier, at a league's distance,
by that inimitable bearing of thine."
Roland bowed profoundly; but the king took his hand, while many a
fierce glance was exchanged between the various nobles who beheld the
warm reception of this rising favourite.
"And so, my poor Vipont, thou wert attacked last night?"
"A mere joke, your majesty."
"Three daggers are no joke; but you were wounded?"
"Oh, a mere scratch with a pin."
"Dost suspect any one as having caused it?"
"Your majesty alone," replied Roland, with a peculiar smile at the
group around the king; "for your favour is ever fatal to your
friends."
"Doubtless," said James, with a darkening brow, "it hath been some of
those accursed----" (Douglases he was about to say, but on seeing how
quickly the colour mounted to Vipont's brow he said) "cloak-snatchers
and cutpurses, who make their lair in the Burghmuir-woods, and
elsewhere; but this must be looked to, sirs! such doings cannot be
permitted in our burghs and landward towns."
They conversed in the old-court Scots, then "the language of a whole
country" (says Lord Jeffrey in one of his able essays), "an
independent kingdom, still separate in laws, character, and manners;
a language by no means common to the vulgar, but the common speech of
the whole nation in early life, and connected in their imagination,
not only with that olden time which is uniformly conceived as being
more simple, pure, and lofty than the present, but also with all the
soft bright colours of remembered childhood and domestic affection."
Roland advanced at once towards the young queen, who gave him her
hand to kiss, and received him with her brightest smile; for his face
had become familiar to her in the king's train at her father's court.
"Ah! Monsieur le Maître d'Artillerie," she said, in a very sweet
voice, "thou seemest quite like an old friend, and remindest me so
much of my father's house at St. Germain-en-Laye--that pretty little
hunting-lodge, near the Seine, where I was so happy--though not so
happy as I am here--_O Dieu me pardonne_, no," she added, with covert
glance at the king full of the utmost affection.
"My dear Madame de Montreuil," said Roland, in a low voice; "express
for me to her majesty the thousand thanks I owe you and her for the
favour shown to my friends."
This charming daughter of Queen Claud the Good was (as we have
elsewhere said) only in her sixteenth year. Her fair brown hair, of
which she had a great profusion, was most becomingly arranged in
plaits and curls; her eyes were of the most beautiful blue; her small
velvet cap, squared at the temples, and falling straight down each
cheek, was blue, lined with satin, and edged with little pearls; her
skirt was all of frosted cloth-of-gold, with a body of
violet-coloured satin, embroidered also with gold, and having hanging
sleeves of the richest lace lined with latticed ribbons; her gloves
were highly perfumed; and around her neck was a gift of the Countess
of Arran--a string of those large and snow-white pearls, that in the
olden time were found in the burn of Cluny. She frequently sighed,
as if with pain and weariness, and pressed a hand at times upon her
breast.
Having now paid his devoirs to the young queen, Roland scrutinized
the glittering throng for the fair form of her who, though perhaps
less beautiful than the gentle Magdalene, was to him the queen indeed
of all the ladies there.
"Vipond," said the king, coldly, as he drew Roland aside, "I know for
whom thou art looking--for one whose brother is under sentence of
forfeiture, the price of his head being at this moment written on the
palace gates; for one who, I can assure thee, Sir Roland, should not
have been under the roof-tree of Holyrood to-night, but for the kind
wishes of her majesty and Madame de Montreuil, whose weak side I see
thou hast attained, as any handsome gallant may easily do."
Roland's heart sank at these words.
"Alas! your majesty," he replied, in the same low voice, "are the
houses of Douglas and Seton fallen so low, that a fair young being,
who unites the blood of both in her pure and sinless heart is merely
tolerated in Holyrood? Your royal sire, around whom so many brave
men of both these names fell on that dark day at Flodden, foresaw not
a time like this."
"There is truth in this, though I have the deepest cause for enmity
to these families that ever king had to a subject," replied James,
frankly. "The mere rebellion of Earl John of Ashkirk I might have
forgotten, and that of his son I could have forgiven, but his
leaguing with Englishmen never! And yonder stands my little rebel,
Jane of Ashkirk; faith, she is beautiful--yea, as love herself!"
"I think her inferior to the queen."
"With all thy partiality? Rogue, thou flatterest me! A true lover
should deem his lady-love inferior to none under God!"
"I have heard that she is as much famed for her beauty as her mother
is for her salves and recipes," said a Hamilton, with a very
unmistakeable sneer.
"Nay, Sir John of Kincavil," said the king, "thou art too severe to
be gallant. I will swear that her hair is the finest I ever saw."
"And her teeth," said young Leslie of Balquhan.
"And her skin, which is like the finest velvet!" said Roland, simply.
"Ah, the devil! thou hast discovered that!" said the king--and
several courtiers and soldiers laughed. "I must really see this fair
one," he whispered; "she looks at Sir Roland. Ah! I see--'tis the
unmistakeable glance of a woman at the man she loves. I find I am
about to lose my master of the ordnance."
"Sir John of Kincavil," said Roland, in a low voice, as he passed
that tall and brilliantly attired knight; "at noon to-morrow I will
be waiting you at the Water Gate."
"I shall bring my best rapier," replied the other, with a bow.
"And a pot of the countess's salve," said Roland, with a dark smile,
as they mutually bit their gloves in defiance, and passed on.
During the presentation of Roland to the queen and this colloquy with
the king, Lady Jane Seton, who had not yet been presented to
Magdalene, felt herself somewhat unpleasantly situated. Her
companions, Marion Logan, and Alison Hume, had both disappeared in
the crowd, the first with the well-known Norman Leslie, Master of
Rothes, and the second with Sir John Forrester, of the king's guard;
while, quite oblivious of the many hostile eyes around, the beautiful
Sybil, with a large fan outspread before her, had thrown aside her
usual sadness, and, exhilirated with the gaiety of the scene, was
coquetting and smiling to a gay crowd of young cavaliers, to whose
jests and gallantries she was replying, however, with the words
alone, for her thoughts were concentrated on the tall valet, whom she
had seen more than once at the opposite doorway, armed with his
portentous rapier.
The hostile eyes were those of the Hamilton faction, which was always
in the ascendant when the power of the Douglases were at a low ebb;
and thus, marvelling how the sister of the exiled earl had found her
way into their privileged and exclusive circle, cold, haughty, and
inquiring glances met those of the timid Jane, whose cheeks began to
crimson with anger. She had now lost the thoughtless Sybil; she saw
not her lover; and amid that vast crowd found herself utterly alone.
Margaret Countess of Arran, the ladies of Barncleugh and Evandale,
Dalserf, and Drumrye, of Raploch, and others, all wives and daughters
of knights and gentlemen of the hostile surname, were gazing stolidly
upon her.
Cardinal Beaton, clad in his scarlet cope and baretta, with a gold
cross upon his breast, was standing near her, conversing with a
prelate in purple. This was the French Bishop of Limoges, in the
Vienne, to whom, with his right forefinger laid on the palm of his
left hand, he was impressively holding forth on "the damnable
persuasions of the English heretics, whose perverse doctrines were
spreading schisms and scandals in the holy church in Scotland." His
large, dark, and thoughtful eyes, which were (inadvertently however)
fixed on Jane, completed her confusion. The great and terrible
cardinal was evidently speaking of her; she felt almost sinking when
the crowd around fell back, and the king, with her lover, approached
to her relief.
CHAPTER IX.
LA VOLTA.
"Yet is there one, the most delightful kind,
A lofty jumping, or a leaping round,
Where, arm in arm, two dancers are entwined,
And whirl themselves, with strict embracements bound,
And still their feet an anapest do sound: