Jane Seton; or, The King's Advocate: A Scottish Historical Romance
hands, and a burst of acclamation from the populace, amid which the
old cry, which the Scots had lately borrowed from their allies, the
French--"Vive la Royne! Vive la Royne!" was conspicuous. It was a
shout that rang from the crowded streets below, the windows and
bartizans above, loud enough to rend the summer welkin, and heralded
the approach of James and his French bride.
The occasional flourish of trumpets, mingled with the sound of the
drum, the shalm, the cymbal, the clarion, and the clang of hoofs,
rang in the lofty street. Spears glittered, banners waved, and
silken pennons streamed in the sunlight at a distance, above the sea
of heads; while armour flashed, and embroidery sparkled, as the
superb procession, conveying the royal pair to Holyrood, approached.
Under the high sheriff of Lothian and Sir Andrew Preston of Gourtoun,
a strong body of mounted spearmen, sheathed in dark armour, cleared
and lined the streets, while the provost, Sir James Lawson of the
Highrigs, chequered them with several thousands of the burgher
archers and craftsmen, for each armed corporation was arrayed under
its own pennon; and the great consecrated standard of the city,
bearing the image of Saint Giles, floated near the battlements of the
Cross--as tradition avers it floated over Salem. A volume would be
required to describe the magnificence of the romantic pageant that
now approached; for James, as I have said, was the idol of his
people, and a nine months' absence had endeared him to them more; and
all their loyalty and enthusiasm now blazed forth at his return.
First came three hundred of his royal guard, clad in blue bonnets and
scarlet doublets, armed with long partizans and poniards. These were
all men of Edinburgh, given by the city to attend James "on all
occasions, especially against his auld and auncient enemies of
England." Then came a long train of that fierce and proud nobility
whose turbulence and intrigues ultimately broke the good king's
heart. They wore robes of state over their rich armour; their
jewelled coronets were borne before, and their gallant banners behind
them; each was attended by a knight, a page, an esquire, or other
gentleman, in accordance with his rank. Then came the lesser barons,
each riding with his pennon displayed; and then the honourable
commissioners of burghs, clad in gowns of scarlet, with gold chains;
the twelve heralds and pursuivants, with six bannered trumpets,
sounding before them a triumphal march, to which the kettle-drums and
cymbals of the horsemen lent additional animation.
But the shouts which greeted this part of the procession became
subdued; for now came a single horseman, riding alone, with a page on
each side supporting his footcloth, which was composed entirely of
cloth-of-gold. He was a man of a singularly noble presence and
commanding stature; his deep dark eyes were full of fire and
expression, yet his face was calm and placid, and his gaze was fixed
on the flowing mane of his beautiful roan horse; and though every
head bowed at his approach, he seemed abstracted and oblivious of
all; his cope and stockings were scarlet, and a very broad hat of the
same sanguine hue cast a pleasant shadow over his sombre features.
"Rise, my bairns," said the Countess of Ashkirk; "it is his eminence
the cardinal!"
And chancing to raise his head at that moment, he waved a benediction
towards the balcony. He was David Beaton, cardinal of St. Stephen,
the lord high chancellor of Scotland, legate of Paul III., and the
terror of those who, in their secret hearts, had begun to nourish the
doctrines of the reformed church. A young cavalier, in a half suit
of magnificently gilded armour, attended him, and spent his time
between caressing a falcon which sat upon his dexter wrist, and
bowing to the ladies on either side of the street. He was Sir Norman
Leslie of Rothes, who, a few years after, slew the cardinal in his
archiepiscopal palace. Immediately behind him came a crowd of
ecclesiastics, and the eight bishops--Stewart of Aberdeen, Hepburn of
Brechin, Chisholm, the worthless holder of the see of Dunblane,
Dunkeld, Moray, Ross, Orkney, and Ferquhard of the Isles, all riding
on led horses, with their mitres, crosiers, and magnificent
vestments, glittering in the sunlight.
Then came the black abbot of Cambus Kenneth (the lord president of
the New College of Justice), attended by his fourteen senators, the
_ten_ sworn advocates, the clerks to the signet, notaries and macers
of court, all of whom were greeted with lowering brows and murmurs of
ill-repressed hatred and dislike; for the introduction of the courts
of session and justiciary had been a very unpalateable measure to the
factious and turbulent Scots.
Surrounded by the chief ladies of the kingdom, and by the damsels of
honour all richly attired in hoods of velvet tied with strings of
pearl, with kirtles of brocade and cloth-of-gold, Magdalene of France
approached on a palfrey white as the new fallen snow, with six young
knights (each the son of an earl) supporting on their lances a silken
canopy above her head. The splendour of her dress, which was shining
with costly jewels, enhanced the greatness of her beauty, which
outshone the charms of all around her, even the fair girls to whom
the reader has been so lately introduced. Sprung from a royal line
long famous for the charms of its princesses, Magdalene was only in
her sixteenth year; but over her girlish loveliness the pallor of
consumption was then spreading a veil more tender and enchanting.
The novelty and excitement of the scene around lent additional
animation to her lively French features, and heightened the
brilliancy of her complexion, which was exquisitely fair; her eyes
were light blue, and her braided hair was of the most beautiful
blonde. She was rather small in stature, but beautifully formed; and
the sweetness of her happy smile, and the grace with which she bowed
and kissed both her hands alternately to the subjects of her husband,
filled them with a storm of enthusiasm; and the respectful silence
which had greeted her at first, expanded into a burst of rapture and
congratulation. The ambassadors of England, Spain, France, and
Savoy, wearing the collars of various knightly orders, rode near her.
With the sword, sceptre, and crown, borne, each by an earl, before
him, James appeared, attended by the leading nobles of the realm. A
cuirass of steel, polished like a mirror and inlaid with gold, showed
to advantage his bold breast and taper waist. His doublet and trunk
breeches were of white satin slashed with yellow and buttoned with
diamonds, and his short mantle of azure velvet was tied over his
breast with golden tassels. The collars of the Thistle, the Garter,
the Golden Fleece, and the escallops of St. Michael, were hanging on
his breast, and flashed in one broad blaze to the noon-day sun. His
dark eyes were full of animation, and the ringlets of his rich brown
hair fluttered in the breeze as he waved his plumed cap to the people
who loved him well, for he was better pleased to be thought the king
of the poor than king of the peers of Scotland. He was surrounded by
all the great officers of state and household; Robert, abbot of
Holyrood, bearing his high treasurer's mace with its beryl ball, rode
beside Colville of Culross, the great chamberlain of Scotland. Then
came the lord high constable and the great marischal, the former with
a naked sword, and the latter with an axe, borne before him; Colville
of Ochiltrie, the comptroller; the dean of Glasgow, the secretary of
state; Argyle, the lord justice-general, and Colinton, the lord clerk
registrar; Lord Evandale, director of the chancery, the preceptor of
the Knights of St. John, the high admiral, the royal standard-bearer,
the grand carver, the great cup-bearer, the masters of the horse, the
hounds, and the falcons, the marshal of the household, and though
last, not least, Jock Macilree, the king's jester, who has been
immortalized by the Knight of the Mount; and though ignobly
bestriding a sleek donkey, his parti-coloured garb, his longeared
cap, jingling bells, hanging bladder, and resounding laugh, attracted
more attention than the mailed chivalry and sumptuously-attired
noblesse who encircled the king.
James, who bowed affably to the people on every side, was scrupulous
in recognising all ladies, especially if handsome, and consequently
the bright group clustered round the Countess of Ashkirk could not
escape his observation. Waving his bonnet, he was about to bow to
his horse's mane, when his eye caught the quarterings of Douglas, and
an ominous flash of undisguised anger immediately crimsoned his fine
features; he was turning away, when a rose was thrown upon his
breast, and a pleasant voice cried,
"Heaven save your grace, and bless our fair lady the queen!"
It was Jane Seton's voice, and the richness of its tone with the
sweetness of her smile subdued James at once; and placing the rose in
the diamond George that hung from the splendid collar of the garter,
this gallant young king bowed low, and kissed his hand.
"Hark you, Vipont," said he, to a handsome young man about his own
age, who rode by his side; "what dame and damoiselles are these? You
vailed your bonnet with more than usual reverence to them."
The cavalier hesitated.
"Faith," continued James, "there was a most undeniable scowl in the
dark eyes of the elder lady in that outrageous English coif. Who is
she, and why, i' the devil's name, does she wear _that_?"
"I trust your majesty is mistaken," replied the young man, hurriedly,
and with confusion; "she is the countess dowager of Ashkirk, with her
daughter the Lady Jane."
"Ashkirk!" reiterated James, knitting his brows; "is she not a
daughter of old Greysteel, and hath more than a spark of old
Bell-the-cat in her spirit? By St. Anne, this accounts for her
English coif, when, out of compliment to our royal consort, the
French fashions are all in vogue!"
"Please your majesty," urged Vipont----
"I remember the dame of old, in the days of the Douglases' tyranny,
when they kept me a close captive in the old tower of Falkland.
God's malison on the whole tribe; I would it had but one neck, and
that it lay under my heel!"
"Amen, say I;" "and I," "and I," added several courtiers, who enjoyed
gifts from the forfeited estates of the banished barons.
The young man sighed and bit his lips as he checked his horse a
little, and permitted Sir David Lindesay of the Mount, another
favourite, to assume his place by the side of the king.
Tall, and finely formed, with an erect bearing and athletic figure,
Sir Roland Vipont was the very model of a graceful cavalier. His
features, though not strictly handsome, were pleasing, manly, and
expressive of health, good humour, and the utmost frankness. His
heavy moustaches were pointed sharply upwards, and his hair was shorn
close (_à la_ Philip II.), to permit his wearing a helmet with ease,
for, as master of the royal ordnance, a week seldom passed in those
turbulent times without his being engaged on the king's service. A
smart bonnet of blue velvet, adorned by a single feather, by its
elegant slouch gave a grace to the contour of his head; while a short
mantle of the same material, lined with white satin, and furred, as
usual, with miniver, waved from his left shoulder. His trunk
breeches were also of white satin, and slashed with red; his doublet
was cloth-of-gold, and, blazing in the sunlight, rivalled his
magnificent baldrick, which, like his bugle-horn, sword, and dagger,
was studded with precious stones. No knight present, not even the
king himself, surpassed the master of the ordnance in the splendour
of attire, the caparisons of his horse, or the grace with which he