J H Merle d’Aubigné
3. Patrick Hamilton – Evangelising in St Andrews
(Abridged from The History of the Reformation in the Time of Calvin, vol 6. The previous section, “Patrick Hamilton in Germany – a Time of Preparation”, appeared last month.)
In August 1527, it had been decreed that Scots who circulated the Scriptures should be subject to the same penalties as people from abroad. If a vessel arrived at Leith, Dundee, St Andrews or Aberdeen, the king’s officers immediately went on board, and if any copies of the New Testament were found, the ship and its cargo were confiscated and the captain imprisoned. About the end of 1527, the ship which carried Hamilton reached port, and although this young Christian always had his New Testament in his pocket, he landed without being arrested and went home to Kincavil.
Patrick loved his mother and his sister; everybody appreciated his amiable character; the servants and all his neighbours were his friends. This gentleness made his work easier. But his strength lay above all in the depth and sincerity of his Christian spirit. “Christ bore our sins on His back and bought us with His blood”; this was the master chord which vibrated in his soul. In setting forth any subject he silenced his own reasoning and let the Bible speak. No one had a clearer perception of the analogies and contrasts which characterise evangelical doctrine. Besides he practised with immovable fidelity the principles which he held to be true; he taught them with a touching charity; he defended them with energetic decision. Whether he approached a labourer, a monk or a noble, it was with a desire to do him good, to lead him to God. He taxed his ingenuity to devise means of bearing witness to the truth. His courage was firm, and in his dignified seriousness his youth was forgotten.
His social position added weight to his influence. It would have seemed strange to the Scots for a man of the people to meddle with the reform of the Church; but if the man that spoke to them belonged to an illustrious family, his position appeared legitimate and they were inclined to listen. Such was the reformer God gave to Scotland.
Hamilton opened his heart to all his family; he made known to them the peace which he had found in the gospel, and by degrees his relations were brought to the faith. The zeal which consumed him could not long be confined within his family. His love for the gospel silenced within him all fear and, full of courage, he was ready to endure the insults which his faith might bring on him. Hamilton went about the surrounding country, his name securing a hearty welcome for him everywhere. When the young laird was seen approaching, labourers left their fields, women came out of every poor cottage, and all gathered about him respectfully. Priests, citizens from a neighbouring town, women of rank and nobles – people of all classes – met together there. Patrick received them with a kindly smile. He addressed to them that first word of the gospel: Be converted! But he also pointed out the errors of the Roman Church. His hearers returned, astonished at his knowledge of the Scriptures, and those who were touched by the salvation which he proclaimed increased in number from day to day.
He soon began to set forth the gospel in lowly churches in neighbouring villages; then he grew bolder and preached in the beautiful sanctuary of St Michael, at Linlithgow, in the midst of the rich altars. No sooner had the report of his preaching begun to get abroad than everyone wanted to hear him. The name he bore, his learning and his piety drew about him each day a larger number of hearers; for a long time such a crowd had not been seen flocking to church. Members of the royal family and the most prominent nobles of the kingdom united with the citizens in the church of Linlithgow.
Among his hearers was a young maiden of noble birth, who with joy received the good news of salvation. Hamilton recognised in her a soul akin to his own. He had adopted Luther’s principles on marriage. “My father and mother”, said Luther one day, “lived in the holy state of marriage; even the patriarchs and the prophets did the same; why should not I do so? Marriage is the holiest state of all, and the celibacy of priests has been the cause of abominable sins.” However, to marry was a daring step for Hamilton. As abbot of Fearn and one connected with the first families of Scotland, his marriage would excite the wrath of the priests to the highest. Besides, it called for great decision from Patrick, and genuine sympathy from the young woman, to unite in marriage in sight, as it were, of the scaffold. The marriage however took place, probably at the beginning of 1528. It is possible that knowledge of this union did not pass beyond the family circle.
While Hamilton was preaching at Linlithgow, Archbishop Beaton was at the monastery of Dunfermline, on the other side of the Firth of Forth. When Beaton learned of the return of the young noble who had so narrowly escaped him, he saw clearly that a missionary animated with Luther’s spirit, thoroughly familiar with the manners of the people, and supported by the powerful Hamiltons, was a formidable adversary. Beaton was a determined enemy of the gospel. Having governed Scotland during the minority of the king, he was indignant at the thought of the troubles with which Hamilton’s preaching menaced the Church and the realm. The clergy shared the alarm of their head; St Andrews especially was in a state of great agitation.
The Archbishop therefore took counsel with his nephew and other clerics as to the best means of making away with Hamilton. Great prudence was needed. They must divert the attention of the young king who, with his generosity of character, might wish to save his relation. They must in some way ensnare the evangelist, for Beaton did not dream of sending soldiers to seize Patrick at Kincavil in the house of his brother the Sheriff. So the Archbishop had recourse to stratagem; Hamilton, only a few days after his marriage, received an invitation to go to St Andrews for a friendly conference on religion. He knew well the implications of the interview and told those dear to him that he should lose his life in a few days. His mother, wife, brother and sister exerted all their influence to keep him from going: but he was determined not to flee a second time. He asked himself if the moment had not come for the triumph of the gospel.
In St Andrews the Archbishop gave the young Reformer a most gracious reception. Is it possible that this was sincere, and not treacherous as was generally supposed? Did Beaton hope to win him back by such means to the bosom of the Church? Every one in the palace testified respect to Hamilton. When Patrick saw the respect with which he was treated, he felt still more encouraged to set forth frankly his faith. The Archbishop and the other scholars all displayed a conciliatory spirit; they appeared to recognise the evils in the Church; some seemed even to share some of Hamilton’s sentiments. He left the castle full of hope. He thought he could see in the dense wall of Romish prejudices a small crack which, by the hand of God, might soon be widened.
He was allowed to defend his opinions without any obstacle being thrown in his way. This was part of the plot. If the Archbishop himself was capable of some kindly feeling, his nephew David and several others were pitiless. They wished Hamilton to speak, and to speak a good deal, so that they might put him to death. Among those who listened were some who, without his knowledge, took notes of what he said and immediately made their report.
His enemies were not satisfied with letting him move about freely in private houses; even the halls of the university were opened to him; he might “teach there and discuss there openly”, as an eyewitness tells us, the doctrines, sacraments, rites and administration of the Church. Many people were pleased to hear this young noble announce, with the permission of the primate of Scotland, dogmas so strange. “They err,” said Hamilton to his audience, “whose religion consists in men’s merits, in traditions, laws, canons and ceremonies, and who make little or no mention of the faith of Christ. They err who make the gospel to be a law, and Christ to be a Moses.” Then he repeated what he had already asserted at Marburg, what Luther had said, what Jesus Christ had said: “It is not good works which make a good man, but it is a good man who makes good works.” It was above all for this proposition, so Christian, that he was to be attacked.
The enemies of the young Reformer exulted when they heard him avow principles so opposed to those of Rome; but desiring to compromise him still further, they engaged him in private conversations, in which they tried hard to draw him to the extreme of his anti-Romish convictions. Nevertheless, among his hearers were righteous men who loved him, went to his house, confided their doubts to him, and desired his guidance. He received them with kindness, invited them to his table, and sought to do good to them all.
Among the canons of St Andrews was Alexander Alane, better known by the Latin name, Alesius. This young man, of modest character, with a tender heart, a moderate yet resolute spirit, and a fine intelligence which had been developed by the study of ancient languages, had made great progress in scholastic divinity, and had taken his place at an early age among the adversaries of the Reformation. His keenest desire was to break a lance with Luther, but as he could not measure himself personally with the man whom he named an arch-heretic, Alesius had refuted his doctrine in a public discussion at the university. The theologians of St Andrews covered him with applause. “Assuredly,” said they, “if Luther had been present, he would have been compelled to yield.” Alesius, alive to these praises and a sincere Roman Catholic, thought it would be easy to convince Hamilton of his errors; he loved him and desired to bring him back from his errors.
With this purpose he visited the young noble. Conversation began. Alesius was crammed with scholastic learning; Hamilton had before him nothing but the gospel, and he replied to all the reasonings of his antagonist with the clear, living and profound word of the Scriptures. Alesius was silenced, and felt as if “the morning-star were rising in his heart”. It was not merely his understanding that was convinced. The breath of a new life penetrated his soul and the truth appeared to him all radiant with glory. He did not content himself with that first conference, but frequently came again to see Hamilton, taking day by day more and more pleasure in his discourse. His conscience was won; his mind was enlightened. On returning to his priory cell, he pondered with amazement the way he had just gone: “The result of my visit has been contrary to all my expectation; I thought that I should bring Hamilton back to the doctrine of Rome, and instead of that he has brought me to acknowledge my own error”.
One day another speaker came to Hamilton – a young Dominican prior, Alexander Campbell, who, like Alesius, had great learning and a kindly disposition. The Archbishop begged him to visit Hamilton frequently and to spare no efforts to win him back to Roman doctrine. Campbell obeyed; but while certain priests or monks craftily questioned the young doctor with the intention of destroying him, he had it in mind to save him. Campbell, like Alesius, was open to the truth, but the love of the world and its favours prevailed in him, and therein lay his danger. He often conversed with Hamilton on the true sense of the Scriptures and acknowledged: “The Church is in need of reformation in many ways”. Hamilton, pleased with this admission, hoped to bring him, like Alesius, to the faith. Having no fear of a friend whom he already looked on almost as a brother, he kept back none of his thoughts and attached himself to him with all sincerity.
But after several interviews, the Archbishop ordered Campbell to give him an account of proceedings. This request astonished and disturbed the prior and, when he stood before Beaton and his councillors, he was intimidated – overpowered by fear of offending the primate and of incurring the censures of the Church. He wished he could at the same time obey both the Lord and the bishops, but he saw no means of reconciling the gospel and the world. When he saw everyone look at him he was agitated, he wavered, and he told everything Hamilton had said to him in the freedom of brotherly confidence. He even consented to become one of his judges. Choosing ease, reputation and life rather than persecution, opprobrium and death, Campbell turned his back on the truth and abandoned Hamilton.
When the young Reformer heard of Campbell’s treachery, he was greatly saddened but not disheartened. On the contrary, he went on teaching with redoubled zeal, both at his lodging and in the university. He bore witness with all his heart and might to the Word of God. For beginning the work of reformation, no place in the kingdom was more important than St Andrews. Hamilton found there students and professors, priests, monks of various orders, canons, deans, nobles and laymen of all classes. This was the wide field on which for one month he scattered the divine seed.
When the adversaries of the New Testament saw the success of Hamilton’s teachings, they grew more and more alarmed. There must be no more delay, they thought; the great blow must be struck. Hamilton was summoned to the Archbishop’s palace, to answer a charge of heresy. His friends in alarm implored him to flee; it seemed that even the Archbishop would have been glad to see him go back to Germany. But when Hamilton returned to Scotland, he had resolved to lay down his life, if need be – if only by his death Christ should be magnified. The joy of a good conscience was so firmly established in his soul that no bodily suffering could take it away.
As Patrick was not minded to flee, his enemies decided to rid themselves of so formidable an antagonist. One obstacle, however, lay in their way. Would the King, feeble but humane, permit them to sacrifice this young member of his family? James V felt really interested in Patrick; he wished to see him and urged him to be reconciled with the bishops. If the Hamiltons should entreat his pardon, how could he refuse it? To evade this difficulty, the Roman clergy resolved to get the young monarch out of the way. His father, James IV, used to make a yearly pilgrimage to the chapel of St Duthac in Tain. The bishops decided to persuade the King, then only 17, to undertake this long journey, although it was winter. He consented, either because he was artfully misled by the priests or because, seeing they were determined to get rid of Hamilton, he would rather wash his hands of it.
The tidings of the danger which threatened Patrick brought anxiety to Kincavil. His wife, his mother and his sister were deeply moved: Sir James was determined not to confine himself to useless lamentation, but to snatch his brother out of the hands of his enemies. As Sheriff of Linlithgow and captain of one of the king’s castles, he could easily assemble some men-at-arms, and he set out for St Andrews at the head of a small force, confident that James V would grant him a bill of indemnity on his return from Tain. But when he reached the Firth of Forth, he found it too stormy to cross.