LITMIR.BIZ

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in short a demand for a complete reversal of the ecclesiastical policy pursued by Morton since 1572,”40certainly seems to be confirmed by the tenor of the passages on patronage. Their tone conveys an anxiety which would have derived not only from unease at the regent’s attempts to extend state authority over the Church,41 but especially from the authors’ realizing that the Leith concordat had merely facilitated further secularization of church lands. Yet, for all the defiance of these paragraphs, the upholders of the second Book of Discipline well knew that their wishes on patronage would be received with as little enthusiasm as their claims for the old Church’s patrimony. In all their deliberations, there would have been an inescapable tension between what they believed ought to happen, and what was realistically possible.

A typical example of the struggle between conscience and political reality can be seen in the writings of one of the book’s authors, John Erskine of Dun. During the course of the same year (1571), he writes on one occasion to scorn the fact that, according to human laws, the patron can nominate a pastor to his office even though, “we haif it be the Scriptouris and consuetud of the primitive kirk that the congregatione namit the persone.” Against that, however, he writes in another letter: “I mean not the hurt of the King, or others in their patronage, but that they have their privileges of presentation according to the lawes, providing alwise that the examination and admission pertean only to the Kirk, of all benefices having cure of souls.”42

As for the new king (who had in 1567 succeeded his mother as James VI and whose minority lasted until 1584), the response of his government to the book’s passages on patronage, was to act as if they did not exist. Thus, his receipt of a copy of the book in the spring of 1578, did not distract the government from passing an Act a few weeks later, stating that all rights of presentation, previously belonging to abbots, bishops and priors, should now be regarded as the monarch’s. A year later, another Act was passed, ratifying all the legislation of 1567, which, of course, included the December Act defending the rights of “the Just and auncient Patrones.” Again, in 1581, an Act was passed bluntly reaffirming the presentation rights of both the Crown and “the lawit [legal] Patronis.”43

Given government reaction, which was wholly shared by James on attaining his personal rule, it is unsurprising that the second Book of Discipline never received official recognition by the state. This meant that the most status the Assembly could give it was simply a formal recording among its register of Acts, on 24 April 1581.44 This setback was not without significance, since, as Shaw points out in his work on the first General Assemblies, the second Book could not then be considered part of the Church’s constitution: “It did, however, represent within the General Assemblies of the period the majority opinion of what the constitution of the church ought to be, but because of the lack of approval by the state, the Assembly did not consider itself competent to go further.”45 As with Erskine’s letters, this diffidence led to curious contradictions. Thus, despite the Assembly’s approval of the second Book, its registers still continued to imply that patronage was as acceptable as before: “[it is ordained] that presentationes of benefices be direct to Commissioners of Countries” (24 October 1578); “That no presentatione of benefice be directit to any persones but sic as beirs commissione” (12 July 1580); “And alwayes the Laik Patronages to remaine haill and unjoynit or provydit, except it be with consent of the patrons’ (24 April 1581); “The advyse of the Kirk concerning the direction of Presentations, that they be directit to the presbytries’ (24 April 1581).46

The situation, then, at the start of the 1580s, was that if the Church had any hopes of relieving itself of the perceived burden of presentations, it knew these would be firmly obstructed by a Crown that now held the vast majority of benefices in its gift. On the other hand, there was still the matter of the nobility and gentry. Although they had been glad to follow the Crown’s lead in the plunder of ecclesiastical properties, they had not, as mentioned above, shown the same interest in acquiring the rights of presentation that went with them. It was not inconceivable that they might be sympathetic to the Church’s desire.47 However, if the Church harbored hopes in that direction, the possibility of their being realized, ebbed away with the measures James was about to take over the medieval Church’s temporality.

      As an introduction to that crucial legislation, however, it is necessary first to recall in more detail how the Scottish Church came to be funded, and how secular predations left the Crown in the favorable position it eventually found itself.

      The Church’s Property

It will be remembered that, originally, when a church was founded, it was customary for the patron to ensure its upkeep by a grant both of land and a proportion of all the parochial produce. This proportion, normally a tenth, came to be known as the parish tithes or teinds. Although they began as an act of generosity, by the time of King William the Lion (1165–1214), the state had made them into a compulsory levy.48

As already mentioned, there was a continuous process, in the era before the Reformation, of appropriation of parish churches by religious houses, cathedral chapters and bishoprics.49 This meant that the incumbent no longer received all the teinds directly as the titular parson, or rector. The religious house, chapter or bishop, in effect, became the titular parson, and on their behalf a vicar usually served the church, receiving only a share, or stipend, out of the teinds. Such a charge is called a patrimonial (as opposed to patronate) benefice.50

Despite the attempt by the third Lateran Council (1179) to restrict the alienation of tithes, by making it conditional on papal consent, the feuing out of lands and teinds was commonplace in Scotland by the sixteenth century. In this process of secularization, the Crown led the way, and the tactic it employed was to wrest concessions from the Church, and then simply to stretch and expand these as far as possible. Thus, although James II undertook, in 1450, to restrict his claims, in vacant dioceses, to the temporality and patronage of its livings, by 1515, the spirituality was being uplifted by the Crown as well.51 Again, as seen above, when the Indult of 1487 granted James III privileges regarding certain benefices attached to monasteries as well as cathedrals, the Crown did not hesitate to use this as another avenue for extending its advance into the wealth and patronage of the prelacies.

The monarch could not only garner income during vacancies, but use his power of appointment to provide for friends and their dependents, who could return the favor through a lease on the revenues. In this regard, access to the patrimony of a monastery was frequently gained by appointing a commendator to the abbacy. This would be someone who, not being entitled to the office, held it in commendam (in trust) and acted as steward of its resources. By 1560, two thirds of Scottish monasteries had commendators52. One particular abuse of religious houses, oft-quoted, took place in 1533, when, exploiting papal anxieties over the Reformation in England, James V asked Clement VII to grant his three illegitimate sons: “any church dignities whatsoever either secular or regular of any order, in title or commend.”53 As a result, they received St Andrews priory, Holyrood, Kelso, Melrose, and Coldingham abbeys. Then, ten years later, the revenues which were surplus to the boys’ requirements, were simply annexed by the Crown.54 As for the thirteen bishoprics, a practice equivalent to that of installing commendators

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