Nigel Tranter - The Wisest Fool

There being no defence, no questions and no need for a summing up, when Hamilton had finished, and demanded the sentence as detailed earlier, there was something of a hiatus, not to say anticlimax. The Lords of Session fidgeted and looked uncomfortable, the Earl of Dunbar considered the hammer-beam ceiling and spectators eyed each other or the accused.

The successor of Balmerino as Lord President, Sir John Preston of Fentonbarns and Penicuik, did not trouble to consult his fellow Senators. He declared that all was most indubitably proven as libelled, to the satisfaction of the court, and that the accused Robert Logan was indeed hereby pronounced guilty on all charges, condemned to be hanged, drawn and quartered insofar as this was possible, and his severed members exhibited above the gates of the cities of Edinburgh, Dundee, Aberdeen, Glasgow and St. John's Town of Perth, his name declared infamous, his heirs deprived, and his property forfeit to the Crown. This for doom. God save the King!

The judges rose, and bowed to the King's representative, who nodded back, stood up-as did all others-and strolled from the chamber; at least thirty-three thousand merks the richer. The accused grinned on. Heriot caught a glimpse of Patrick, Lord Gray of Fowlis, in an inconspicuous position at the back of the hall, as he queued to get out As one of Logan's heirs general, was this then a defeat for him? He certainly did not look defeated. Probably he had obtained all he could out of his cousin's estate long before this-he had had three years, after all. Who, then, was this elaborate charade aimed at? James Stewart would know-and perhaps only he.

The High Kirk of St Giles, since the Reformation, had been divided into three parish churches for the city of Edinburgh-within-the-Walls-the High Kirk to the east, the largest, the Tolbooth Kirk to the south-west and the Little Kirk to the northwest. This latter was packed full at noontide of the 24th of August 1609 for the wedding of George Heriot, burgess of Edinburgh and Master Goldsmith to the King, to Alison, daughter of James Primrose, Secretary to the Privy Council of Scotland, former Maid-in-Waiting to Her Majesty. This happened to be the parish church of both families. Moreover, Heriot had a personal interest in it, for exactly ten years before he had petitioned the King to have it enlarged and had partly paid for the improvements out of his own pocket Even so, it was scarcely large enough for this ceremony, despite the use of its flanking side-chapel of St. Eloi, a Popish relic which had been allowed to survive because it was the chapel of the Incorporation of Hammermen of which Heriot was Past-Master. Both families had wide ramifications and all must be invited-however much the principals would have preferred a quiet country wedding over at Culross. Moreover, practically everybody who claimed to be anybody, in Edinburgh, appeared to have made a point of being present-not all, presumably, out of love and admiration Many of the nobility and gentry also found it expedient to attend, in view of the royal and Privy Council connections, or merely due to the universal pull of great wealth. Some, no doubt came out of pure goodwill- the Lady Marie Gray, for instance. Although what brought her gallant and splendidly-dressed husband, the bridegroom for one did not care to hazard a guess, as he waited up near the former altar-steps, for his bride. He noted, too, that the Chancellor, the Earl of Dunfermline, was present, with Heriot's cousin, the Lord Advocate. Moreover, Hamilton's father, also Sir Thomas, and brother, Sir Andrew, both Lords of Session under the titles of Lords Priestfield and Redhouse respectively, graced the occasion, though seldom indeed had they had any dealings with their tradesman kinsman. The Primrose family were duly impressed.

Mary Gray was there, with her son John Stewart of Methven, now a boy of almost fifteen, representing the Duke of Lennox, who was on an official embassage to France.

When Alison arrived on her father's arm, Heriot thought that he had never seen her looking lovelier, more piquantly, excitingly alive-nor younger. Her youthfulness once again hit the man as with a physical blow and made him suddenly and heavily aware again of his own years. All in that crowded church must note it Not that he felt old, or normally ever thought about his age. All that he could say was that his younger half-brother James Heriot acting groomsman, looked assuredly older than he did-which was a very doubtful consolation.

Alison, dressed in cloth-of-silver, trimmed with white fur, with a falling ruff seeded with tiny pearls-this the gift of her bridegroom-and a long shoulder-train, whatever her age, seemed fully in command of herself and her situation, radiating happiness. When she reached Heriot's side, his doubts and concerns faded wholly in the sheer emanation of her vivid joy and so obvious affection. Her own happiness prevailed. They had waited long for this.

They had to wait a little longer, for the minister. There had been a little difficulty over the celebrant The true incumbent of the Little Kirk was the renowned Master Robert Bruce, a man of towering stature, a former Moderator of the General Assembly and long a friend of Heriot's family. But he had fallen out with King James when he had refused to offer up public thanks from this pulpit on the occasion of the King's notable deliverance from the evils of the Gowrie Conspiracy in 1600, claiming all to have been a fraud. He had been banished, first to Dieppe and then allowed to return to Scotland, but not to venture south of Inverness by stringent royal command. His kirk-session and congregation had refused to accept this fiat, as had the General Assembly, and he was still officially the minister of the Little Kirk of St Giles. An assistant, Master James Balfour, had been appointed- and Heriot and his bride would have been well content for him to have married them. But this would not do for the King, who considered it proper to take an active interest in the matter. His Geordie was not to be married by any jumped-up assistant, and since Heriot was resolute that he was not going to have one of the monarch's bishops perform the ceremony as James would have preferred, and all but insisted on, they compromised on Master Patrick Galloway. Galloway, now an elderly man and former minister of Perth, was now for long incumbent of the High Kirk of St. Giles and Chaplain to the King, a Presbyterian but a king's-man-who, unlike Bruce had preached enthusiastically and at great length at the Cross of Edinburgh on the wonderful delivery of their liege lord after the Gowrie business. Heriot found him little to his taste, an Old Testament prophet type of divine, who nevertheless was notably well aware on which side his bread was buttered; but he could scarcely resist again.

Now Master Galloway delayed his arrival-as James Primrose had foretold he would, as a matter of policy, always concerned to make a dramatic entry and to show who was master in God's house. Master Balfour was in his position in front of the Communion Table, waiting patiently with the rest. The chatter from the great congregation was sufficiently loud to allow bride and groom to converse easily, without even having to lower their voices, while James Primrose frowned and puffed, and sundry of Alison's sisters, as attendants, giggled behind.

At length Galloway appeared, sweeping in from a vestry door as though blown in by the winds of the wilderness of Sinai itself, long white locks and black Geneva gown streaming, forked beard jutting. At sight of him a suitable silence fell.

Striding, by no means by the shortest route, to the chancel steps, unfortunate relic of Popery, he halted before the bridal pair, head up, not so much as glancing at them. He stood there, so, for moments-and then raised arm and hand high.