Sir, gif ye please for to vse my counsall, Your fame and name sail be perpetuall.
Chapter Four
Kings and Kingship
I haif (quod I) bene to this hour Sen I could ryde, one Courtiour,
(The Monarche, 328-30)
In typically straightforward fashion, the narrator of The Monarche identifies his 'vocatioun'. While we can not assume a direct
autobiographical relationship between Lindsay and his Courtiour- creation, it is significant that, the pivotal character of this, his most important poem, is like Lindsay himself a courtier. This is the most striking example of the way in which over thirty years spent at. Court profoundly influenced Lindsay's work - even that which can not be strictly classified as court-literature. This chapter aims to look at what Lindsay had to say about his courtly environment, in particular about the King and his fellow courtiers. His treatment, of these and related topics casts an important light upon contemporary attitudes towards such themes as kingship, government and service. It will be seen that Lindsay’s poetry illustrates the tenacity of traditional assumptions and ideals. His political vocabulary, familiar to
generations of Scots before him, represents the legacy of centuries of medieval thinking. This is not to criticize Lindsay's lack of
originality - a meaningless criticism to levy against any sixteenth century text - but to remark upon the vitality of prevailing modes of political thinking and the longevity of the language in which it was couched. This essential conservatism represents an important, aspect of Scottish political culture during the Renaissance, one that we cannot afford to overlook. We do, however, detect within Lindsay's work a certain unease with some aspects of traditional thinking, particularly with regard to the interaction of ideas of kingship on the one hand and of the commonweal on the other. The ways in which this disquiet is
suggested as well as Lindsay's attempts to modify the conventional ideal will be discussed in this and later chapters. But first, we must consider the time-honoured political ideology which formed the bedrock of Lindsay's thinking.
Before examining his treatment of kingship in detail, it. is as well to recall that, for Lindsay, its discussion was conditioned by personal experience. In the course of his life, four Stewart monarchs sat upon the Scottish throne. Of these, two had a direct and profound influence upon his career, while James III and Mary, each in their different, ways, also contributed to his understanding of Scottish kingship. In addition, his career brought him into contact with non Scottish rulers, the Emperor Charles V, Henry VIII, Francis I and Christian III; experiences which offered a benchmark against which to set. traditional Scottish expectations. Arguably, however, it. was not. the experience of any one particular king, but more the experience of no king at all which was the truly formative influence upon Lindsay. Indeed, for some twenty eight years of his life, Scotland was without a ruling monarch. The absence of the traditional figurehead threw into relief as nothing else could the role the king was expected to play and the qualities he had to possess. The vicissitudes of Lindsay's career - the low points all the result of minority politics - made him
particularly sensitive to the problems associated with minority administrations, emphasizing the need for strong adult rule,
intensifying its attraction as a political ideal and rendering it all the more eagerly sought after. As we shall see, Lindsay's
preoccupation with the figure of the ideal prince was far from unusual during this period. In his case, however, it was as much the result of personal experience as it. was the expression of conventional political expectations.
Personal experience alone can not explain Lindsay's attitudes
towards kings and kingship. His thinking is almost completely
dependent upon the dominant political ideologies of the time and his
work forms part of a long tradition devoted to the discussion of kingship, hammering home well-worn themes garnered from a storehouse
bulging with the accepted wisdom of centuries of European thinking.
This tradition was extremely familiar to Scots of the sixteenth century
who were able to draw not only on Classical and European authorities
but also on a rich fund of native writing on the subject (although, of
course, this was in turn often derived from such sources).1 The
traditional kingship literature of western Europe was firmly rooted in
the philosophies of Aristotle and Augustine (the former in particular
as filtered through the writing of Thomas Aquinas).2 In unequivocal
terms, Aquinas had set out the basic aims and functions of government,
relocating Aristotle's pursuit of Eudaimonia or 'the good life' within a divine cosmology. The attainment of salvation through virtuous
living and the grace of God became society's new goal:
It is a king's duty to promote the welfare of the community in such a way that it leads fittingly to the happiness of heaven.3
This is slightly different from the Augustinian conceptualization of
government, not as an end in itself, but as a divinely instituted
mechanism for countering the disruptive qualities of sin.
1 The richness and importance of the Scottish tradition has been fully demonstrated by Sally Mapstone's substantial study "The Advice to Princes Tradition in Scottish Literature 1450-1500", Unpublished D.Phil. Thesis, Oxford University, (1986).
2 See: T. A. Sinclair, ed. & trans., Aristotle, The Politics
(Harmondsworth, 1962); J. A. K. Thomson, trans. & H. Tredennick & J. Barnes ed., The Ethics of Aristotle, (Harmondsworth, revised edn., 1976) and A. P. D'Entreves, ed. & J. G. Dawson trans., Aquinas, Selected Political Writings (Oxford, 1948). See also: R. G. Mulgan, Aristotle's Political Theory, An Introduction for Students of Political Thought (Oxford, 1977) & Dino Bigongiari, ed., The Political Ideas of St Thomas Aquinas (New York, 1953)
Nevertheless, both schools of thought tended towards the same practical consequence and, to a large extent, politics became a branch of
Christian ethics and political discussion was conducted within a moral matrix. This was reinforced by Platonic ideas of kingship and tyranny, defined in moral and psychological rather than legal terms; while the tyrant gave rein to his base passions, true kingship was the
sovereignty of reason.4 The idea, expressed by Aristotle, that only the virtuous are capable of truly virtuous government - and that only they deserve such an honour - was, in theory at least, universally accepted. Less universal yet extremely wide-spread was the belief that of the six basic forms of government identified by Aristotle, monarchy represented the best constitution. Certainly, this provided a suitable ideological foundation for most European experience, underpinning a feudal system in which the king naturally sat at the head of a hierarchical structure. In addition, the medieval quest, to impose balance and order within a naturally graded universe provided a further ideological prop. As Aquinas had it, the King in his kingdom was what the Soul was to the Body, what God was to the Universe: divine action in the universe provided men with a pattern for kingship.5 Two
important conclusions emerge from this brief discussion. Firstly, divinely sanctioned kingship was the lynchpin of most systems of
government and the person of the prince is the key to any understanding of political thought in this period. Secondly, as a result of the
association between politics and theology and between virtue and government, political discussion was couched in the language of moral exhortation. To modern ears, such homilies might sound unsophisticated or irrelevant. However, the fundamental importance of the principle 4 Rebecca W. Bushnell, Tragedies of Tyrants: Political Thought and
Theater in the English Renaissance (Ithaca & London, 1990) pp.10-11. 5 Aquinas, Selected Political Writings, pp.68-69.
can not be over emphasized. The portrayal of the virtuous Christian
prince which lay at the heart of much medieval kingship literature was
not simply paying lip-service to a time-honoured convention; on the
contrary, it represented a very real, extremely serious, political aspiration.
Understanding this helps answei' an important question raised when analysing the respective influence of personal experience and universal
assumptions on Lindsay's thinking. Should Lindsay's work be understood
typologically or does it offer a more specific commentary on Stewart
kingship in Renaissance Scotland? .As earlier chapters demonstrate,
with careful treatment, Lindsay's works yield significant biographical
information. His assessment of James IV and his account of the various
regency administrations of 1513-28 is basically accurate. With regard
to the personal rule of James V, it is clear that Lindsay did introduce
some quite specific material: the reference to Bagsche the royal hound,
the wedding celebrations in Paris, possibly even James's unedifying
romp with a slut in the kitchens.6 All these bear the stamp of events
actually witnessed. This is not to deny that Lindsay dealt equally in
archetypal figures. Unsurprizingly though, these figures articulated
deeply held political beliefs and, even allowing for the highly
conventional and rather limited political vocabulary at his disposal,
Lindsay was able to relate such figures to the real world. This is
clearly illustrated in Ane Satyre of the Thrie Estatis. It has been
argued that Rex Humanitas, the young King who falls prey to evil
counsel and the lures of a loose woman, is a portrait of James V.7 On
6 Found in The Complaint and Public Confessioun of Bagsche, The Deploratioun, and The Answer to the Kingis Flyting respectively.
7 It is generally accepted, writes Agnes Muir Mackenzie, that Rex Humanitas is 'a candid but kindly sketch of James V', (J. Kinsley, ed., Ane Satyre of the Thrie Estatis (London, 1954) p.20). In fact, it is not generally accepted at all and indeed its acceptance can have disastrous consequences. It forces John MacQueen into the untenable argument that Ane Satyre was first performed before a
this occasion, such a straightforward reading is inappropriate. Clearly, Ane Satyre is an allegorical and not a mimetic drama. As Kantorwitcz has convincingly argued, it derives its impact and strength from a lucid presentation of thematic material in a manner readily
understood by a sixteenth century audience.8 Given recent events,
these themes may have been peculiarly apt, but. they were not uniquely
so. Rex Humanitas is, as his name suggests, an archetypal character,
the peg upon which Lindsay hangs his discussion of kingship. If this
discussion looks at times like the simple adumbration of time honoured
platitudes, that does not make it any less relevant to Lindsay's own
experiences. Indeed, Ane Satyre reveals Lindsay's faith in the ability
of this conventional vision to describe a process of real political
reformation. This then helps answer the question of how Lindsay's
treatment of kingship should be understood. Certainly, it was more
often typological than topical, but, at the same time, such an approach
could provide a pertinent commentary on Scottish kings and what was
expected of them.
It is important to establish the different ways of reading Lindsay
as this allows us to appreciate just how political his works were.
While it is the ethical dimension of Lindsay's message which most
forcibly strikes the modern reader, it was the political aspect which
struck home to his sixteenth century audience. It was, moreover, a
message which he took every opportunity to underline. Every one of
Lindsay's extant works makes mention of a king figure - albeit only
Cupar audience in the early 1530s. His obsession with historical topicality also leads MacQueen to suggest that. Dame Sensualitie is a portrait of James's mistress, Margaret Erskine ("Ane Satyre of the Thrie Estatis", S.S.L.. Ill, no.3, (1966) pp.129-143). For a
convincing rebuttal of this, see: A. J. Mill, "The Original Version of Lindsay's Satyre of the Thrie Estatis", S.S.L., VI, no.2, (1968) pp.67-75.
passingly in Squyer Meldrum. Of the eight clearly court poems, over half are directly addressed to James V. Among the remainder, The Tragedie of the Cardinal contains a passage delivered "To the Prencis", while The Monarche is dedicated, amongst others, to the Regent and
includes a prayer for the absent Queen. Three of Lindsay's court poems deal explicitly with kingship and the same number embody more oblique messages. Even Lindsay’s non-court works make important statements on the subject and arguably the most cogent of all is presented in the form of a popular drama. Clearly, the theme was of central importance. Its constant reiteration suggests an equal concern in the minds of his audience, not only at the Scottish court, but also within the community at large.
Without question or qualification, Lindsay accepted kingship as the natural system of government. There is nothing in his works
foreshadowing later attempts to define the precise source of sovereign authority, nor does his work, even inadvertently, provide material for
such an analysis. Unlike John Mair, for example, Lindsay is
unconcerned with the historical origins of kingship. With an ethico- political rather than constitutional vision, he focuses upon its
practical implications. Regarding the institution of kingship, Lindsay simply reiterates the traditional belief in monarchy as divinely
ordained and patterned. In The I)rerne, he tells James V: ...God, of his preordinance, Haith grantit the to have the gouernance, Off his peple, and create the one King.
(1037-39)
This assumption also shapes the imagery Lindsay employs when portraying the king variously as God’s "Instrument", "Governour", "Officiar", and in familiar feudal parlance, as His "wassal".9 Viewing the king in his 9 Ane Satyre, 1878 & The Complaynt, 499; The Testament, of the Papyngo,
268, 255 & 256. Although Lindsay did not use them in such a way, the terms 'officar' and 'governor' could have less conservative implications, suggesting, for example, conditional tenure of the
kingdom as a microcosm of God in the universe emphasised royal power and authority to a point which, at times, seemed awesomely vast in scope. In The Testament of the Papyngo, the dying bird reminds the King how:
And, in the erth [God] maid sic ordinance, Under thy feit all thyng terrestryall Ar subiect to thy plesour and pastance:
Boithe fowle, and fysche, and bestis pastorall, Men to thy seruyce, and wemen, thay bene thrall:
(269-73)
Royal power, however, could never be exercised untrammelled, for then it became tyranny. Geared as it was towards Christian salvation, it was circumscribed by the framework of natural and divine law within which all political authority functioned. The Crown brought with it regal responsibility. As stated in The Buke of the Governaunce of Princis, (Gilbert Hay's loose translation of a thirteenth century version of the Secretum Secretorum):
And tharfore is a king lyknyt. to God, for he is as depute and minister to God, and shuld follow him and be lyke him, and conforme him tyll hym in all his dedis of justice, vertu and verit.ee.* 10
In similar fashion, Lindsay exhorts James:
Quarefor, dres the, abone all vther thyng, Off his [God's] laws to kepe the observance.
(The Dreme, 1043-44)
God, he sternly reminds him, "wyll nocht excuse thyne Ignorance,/ Geue thow be rekles in thy gouernyng" (1041-42). As Gude-Counsall tells us, the "kinglie cuir" is an onerous burden, borne with "Gret paine and labour, and that continuall" (Ane Satyre, 1888 & 1890).
office. For Mair's use of the terms, see: Roger Mason, "Kingship, Nobility and Anglo-Saxon Union: John Mair's History of Greater Britain (1521)", Innes Review, XLI, (1990) pp.182-222, pp.207-08. 10 The Buke of the Governaunce of Princes, (1456), in Gilbert of the
Hayes Prose Manuscript, I, pp.71-165, p.145. The importance
attached to this obligation was one of the central features of the advice giving tradition (Mapstone, "The Advice to Princes
The King owed an obligation not only to God but also to his subjects.11 This dual responsibility is most evocatively conveyed in Ane Satyre, where it is immediately set before the audience in Rex Humanitas’s important opening speech. The powerful alliterative language with which he addresses the ’’Lord of Lords", "King of Kings" and "Prince but peir" signifies the strength of his obligation not only to God but also to the "pepill subiect to...[his] cure" (78-79 & 87). This speech is cleverly balanced by Divyne Correctioun’s opening words. Entering the stage at. a point when these royal obligations appear
forgotten, he reasserts them in uncompromising fashion (1572-1620). The very dramatization of Divyne Correctioun, the Scripture-quoting emissary of God, brings to life the bond that ought properly to exist between God and king and the moment when Rex Humanitas "imbraces
Correctioun with a humbil countenance" is one of the dramatic climaxes of the play (at 1776).
When Rex Humanitas asked God for grace "...till vse my diademe/ To thy plesour, and to my great comfort" (100-01), what, exactly did he mean? What precisely were the expectations surrounding kingship in this period? The ideals of kingship described by Lindsay and indeed common to most late medieval Scottish literature on the subject were extremely traditional: a king's primary duty was the defence of his realm and the administration of justice within it. Sanctioned by classical, biblical and legal authority, this idea was current throughout Europe and not least in Scotland.12 That justice in particular occupied a central position in Scottish thinking is
11 For a further discussion of this dual obligation and its dependence upon a conflation of Aristotelian and Biblical vocabulary, see: Roger A. Mason, "Kingship, Tyranny and the Right to Resist in Fifteenth Century Scotland", S.H.R., 66, (1987) pp.125-155, esp.pp.138-139.
12 Mapstone, "The Advice to Princes Tradition"; Mason, "Kingship, Tyranny and the Right, to Resist", p.127.
illustrated not only by traditional kingship literature but also, for example, by the coinage. That issued by James V in 1539 bore the inscription, "Honor regis ludicium" (from the ninety ninth Psalm), the 1553 coinage proclaimed "Diligite Iusticiam" and that of 1555, 1557 and 1558 carried the motto, "Justus fide vivit".13 The concept of justice - as opposed to defence - was that which most closely engaged Lindsay's attention and it is justice which we should first consider.
Lindsay's preoccupation with this theme runs throughout his poetic career. Early and late works alike illustrate the pre-eminent position justice held in his political vocabulary. In The Drerne, John the
Commonweal anticipates a time when Scotland shall be ruled by a king "Quhilk sail delyte hym maist, abone all thyng,/ To put Iustice tyll executioun" (1006-07). In Ane Satyre, written some twenty-six years later, the cry is the same. "The principall point, Sir of ane kings