The Fate of the Islands, and a Preacher called Knox
Since at least the 8th Century Scandinavians, and particularly Norwegians, had interacted with and occupied the many thousands of Islands that lay off Scotland’s rugged coastlines. Until the late Fifteenth Century, the Lord of the Isles enjoyed almost full autonomy over the Inner and Outer Hebrides, but the Scottish Crown had integrated the territory under James III. One bastion of Scandinavian rule remained however, the Orkney Islands which lay just 10 miles off the northern tip of the Scottish mainland and were ruled directly by the Norwegian Crown.
These sparsely populated, windswept isles were of little economic value, but had long been coveted by the Scottish monarchs who regarded the Scandinavian outpost as a relic of the Viking era, as well as possibly a threat. The Isles has been populated by Norwegian colonialism since the 8th Century, and so despite sharing cultural links with the mainland had little in common with Edinburgh. As Scottish merchant ships began to ply the North Sea in increasing numbers, steering the wealth of the New World towards Edinburgh, every small, sparse island was a potential harbour for competing merchants. As trade has increased in the proceeding decades, so too had the calls for a more assertive Scottish presence in the North Sea. More bellicose merchants even demanded that not only Orkney, but the further flung Shetland Islands and even Iceland should be annexed to the Scottish Crown.
The fierce competition between the Kingdoms of Scotland and Norway has inexorably grown in line with the value of the North Sea trade, but there was also a strong perception that while the power of the Kingdom of Scotland grew, Norway was a state in decline. The Norwegians had recently emerged from a damaging civil war and a ruinous conflict with their larger, wealthier neighbours, which left the Crown with little army or navy to call upon.
Weak claims notwithstanding, in December 1543 King James III seized a disputed legal claim as pretext and invaded Orkney. 3,000 men were dispatched to the island, defended by a meagre garrison in an underdeveloped fort. James III commissioned great works of poetry and art to commemorate the heroic victory of the Scots. In truth, the victory was ordinary, mundane even. The fortress possessed no cannon, and no force capable of resisting even the small invading detachment. Within weeks, Kirkwall was in Scottish hands. James ordered the small invading army to board the fleet once again, and proceed north to the equally lightly defended Shetland Isles.
While the Scots plundered the Northern Isles, there was little action elsewhere. Many in Edinburgh had little idea that there was in fact a war being pursued, such was the belief that the Norwegians could pose no threat. Without relief, the isles could not hold, and soon Shetland too was in Scottish hands. The invading force returned to Edinburgh, and was bolstered with 2,000 more men. Once again, the men boarded the fleets, but this time their destination lay to the East of the North Sea.
The Norwegians had not expected the war to reach their shores, assuming that the Scots would be satisfied with a local war to settle the fate of the Isles. When the Scottish fleet were sighted off the southern shores of Norway, the country frantically scrambled to get together any force to defend the capital. There was, however, only going to be one result, and another thousand of the precious few men of fighting age in Norway we sent to a their grave prematurely.
The Norwegian countryside, already not the richest of Europe, had been ravaged repeatedly by the rebellions and invasions of the recent decades, and the occupying Scottish army found little to sustain themselves. The food stores of the capital were empty, and it was clear no serious opposition was going to challenge Scottish supremacy. James would not get his heroic victory after all, but was determined to extract a high a price as possible from the strongly weakened Kingdom. Norway would of course surrender the Islands of the North Sea – Oslo could not claim to exercise authority over the seas anymore. In addition, for five years Norway would renounce any trade income from the North Sea, and empty her coffers.
A major consequence of the English reformation was a noticeable increase in Papal interest north of the border. The influence wielded by Cardinal Beaton encouraged increased contact between Rome and Edinburgh, and when Scotland’s southern neighbour embraced the heretic faith the Vatican was keen to prevent any signs of contagion. However, as has often been the case throughout Europe, the Papal delegates not only saw the country as a bastion of Catholicism which must play a role in suffocating the heresy, but also as an increasingly wealthy land which could bolster the finances of the Counter Reformation. It was not long before the notorious indulgence peddlers were traversing the streets of Edinburgh, Perth and St. Andrews, conning the gullible and threatening the God fearing. The increasingly zealousness naturally (caused) a reaction, and a number of critical voices were raised condemning first the indulgence peddlers, but soon also the hierarchy of the Roman Church.
Chief among those who opposed the Papacy was a young notary priest called John Knox. Educated at the University of St. Andrews, Knox had long been associated with movements calling for reform within the Scottish Church, and had set himself up as an outspoken opponent of Cardinal Beaton. James was concerned that this brewing conflict could easily destabilise the Kingdom, and arranged for Knox to be removed to Geneva, far from the streets of Edinburgh where his influence grew.
James, now an elderly man, was content to spend out his days in the comfort of Edinburgh. His days were not to number many however, and shortly after the peace of 1548 the King died peacefully in his bed. It was not many Scottish rulers who could claim to have met such a favourable end up until this point. Lacking an heir, the crown fell to John II, brother of the King. The new King found himself facing formidable domestic opposition to his reign, centred on Cardinal Beaton. The King’s reign was tenuous, but Cardinal Beaton was not a popular man either, and discontentment bubbled beneath the surface. John decided on a gamble – to directly challenge the supremacy of Beaton and his Catholic cohort. Inviting Knox to return, the new King declared that both the Royal Family, and the Kingdom, would now be adherents of the Reformed religion, the second of the recent schisms from Rome. John’s gamble was that he and Knox would enjoy more popularity than the Cardinal had, but it was to prove to be a foolish gamble. As the brother of the King, John had gathered few followers, while the short exile of Knox was enough to seriously hamper the growth of any support. John had hoped that his bold move would destroy the influence of Beaton, but all it did was plunge Scotland into religious war.
While smaller battles were fought across the central belt of Scotland and Ireland against the Catholics, across the former English territories against the Anglicans who had crept over the border, it was in the colonies that the first serious uprising occurred. Angry at the lack of consultation over the dramatic change, and the Presbyterian missionaries who accompanied the more recent settlers to the new world, and 6,000 rose in defiance.
The demands of the settlers were relief from taxation, and also for further protection against the natives of the vast continent. Further settlements were desired, but the lack of response from the mainland was disconcerting. However, King John II faced greater problems than 6,000 rioting settlers in a far flung corner of the empire. 5,000 men rose and captured Dublin, aiming to establish a free Irish Kingdom, while another 10,000 rose in the Midlands aiming to overturn the false reformation.
Rioting broke out in Edinburgh as the merchant class threw their support behind the Cardinal, dismayed at the lack of stability which the reign of John had brought to the Kingdom. The King found himself almost confined to the Castle, while his authority barely spread down the Royal Mile. Money was being lost at a worrying rate as expenses mounted, while the number of available reinforcement dwindled as battle after battle was fought. No side appeared to enjoy a clear advantage, but the strength of the Royalist faction steadily weakened. By September 1552, fewer than 2,000 men were available for service. The King was beset by a deep depression, and retreated into an intensely private existence over the winter, one which he never truly emerged from. In February 1553, he lapsed into his final slumber. His son, enjoying little popularity, inherited the throne in highly challenging circumstances.
John II, however, had been stationed in the New World by his father to try and placate the rebels. His first action was to lead the attack on Unamakik, the centre of the rebellion. Hoping for glory, the young King lead his 4,500 men across the straight and into the dense forests which shrouded the settlements. The resulting battle, if it could be called that, was a disaster. Unable to bring the rebels to the field in a traditional battle, which the professional soldiers of the Scottish army would have enjoyed a significant advantage in; John instead suffered heavy casualties through the constant raids. After a few weeks, the battered Royal Army withdrew, having lost almost 2,000 men while inflicting less than a third of those casualties on the rebels.
A second uprising soon erupted in the new world, while at home three rebel armies threatened the heart of Scotland itself. Gold from the Holy Roman state of Utrecht, an Anglican nation in alliance with the English, funded significant uprisings in Ayrshire, while Scotland's armies had been bled almost white. The Kingdom appeared on the verge of collapse.