have shamed Stalin’s show trials. Inevitably he was found guilty, and on 18 February 1546 the cardinal, in a colossal misjudgment, had him burned to death at a stake conveniently placed outside the castle. In fact, it was so conveniently placed that the cardinal could watch Wishart’s torments from cushioned ease while enjoying his dinner and wine.
His misjudgment became evident three months later, early on the morning of 29 May, when five men, whose quarrel with Beaton was, in fact, political rather than religious, entered the castle. Repairs were taking place and workmen were going to and fro unchallenged, so the assassins entered easily, threw the porter into the moat and narrowly missed seeing Marion Ogilvie, Beaton’s mistress, leaving the castle after the cardinal and she had spent the night ‘busy at their accounts’. Beaton was now ‘resting . . . after the rules of physic’. Having gained entry, the men admitted sixteen more conspirators, broke down the door of the cardinal’s room and, in spite of his pleas – ‘Fie, fie! I am a priest!’ – stabbed him to death. To make sure that this act came to the attention of the public, they hung his body at the foot of the castle walls, where it was thoroughly abused by the townsfolk – ‘Ane called Guthrie pisched in his mouth.’ Awaiting the inevitable reprisals, the assassins withdrew into the castle and prepared for a siege.
Henry VIII was jubilant, and, for a time, it was wrongly believed that the assassins – now called the Castilians – were acting under his orders. Arran, needless to say, hesitated. Since his son had been in the castle and was now held as a prisoner, this was not surprising, but it allowed the Castilians time to beg for help from Henry. Henry had only recently made peace with France after his seizure of Boulogne and he knew that his interference in Scotland could jeopardise this fragile agreement. But in this case Henry was being invited to invade Scotland as a liberator, and St Andrews would provide an excellent port of entry. It was very tempting. However, on 28 January 1547, before he could do anything, he died, leaving the kingdom to his ailing nine-year-old son, who became Edward VI, under the protectorship of the Earl of Hertford, recently created the Duke of Somerset.
Hardly had news of this change of power been digested than word came from France that François I had died and his son Henri II was now king. Henri had never enjoyed good relations with his father and it is said that when Anne de Pisseleu, Duchesse d’Étampes, François’s mistress, heard the news of his death, she fainted on the spot. However, Henri did enjoy good relationships with the Guise faction, and he was keen that Mary should marry his son, now the Dauphin. He proved his good intentions towards Scotland by sending a fleet to St Andrews under the command of Leon Strozzi. Where Arran had procrastinated, Strozzi acted, bombarding the castle into submission and taking the Castilians prisoner on 29 July 1547. He released Arran’s son, held the nobility for ransom and sent the rest of the Castilians, including Knox, to what were presumed to be slow deaths as galley slaves. Once again the tide of danger receded from Scotland and Marie could congratulate herself on keeping the marriage prospects with France alive.
On 27 August 1547 Somerset arrived at Berwick with a fresh army to finish what he had failed to do over two years previously – ‘to bring to good effect the most godly purpose of the marriage . . . to make her, being now but Queen of thy realm, as Queen ofboth realms’. What was not stated, but which was implicit, was that while Mary might very well become Queen of England, Edward would certainly become King of Scotland.
Somerset had learned that his previous slash-and-burn methods had achieved nothing, so on this invasion he used different tactics. He advanced steadily up the east coast, building temporary forts as he went and supplying
Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright