{ 257} Lest the unexpected approach of such a multitude, though unarmed, should alarm or offend the regent, the assembled protestants agreed to stop at Perth, and sent Erskine of Dun before them to Stirling, to acquaint her with the peaceable object and manner of their coming. Apprehensive that their presence would disconcert her measures, the regent had again recourse to dissimulation. She persuaded Erskine to write to his brethren to desist from their intended journey, and authorized him to promise, in her name, that she would put a stop to the trial. The protestants testified their pacific intentions by a cheerful compliance with this request, and the greater part, confiding in the royal promise, returned to their homes. But when the day of trial came, the summons was called by the orders of the queen, the preachers were outlawed for not appearing, and all persons were prohibited, under the pain of rebellion, from harbouring or assisting them.[387] At the same time, the gentlemen who had given security for their appearance, were fined.[388]
Escaping from Stirling, Erskine brought to Perth the intelligence of this disgraceful transaction, which could not fail to incense the protestants. It happened that, on the same day on which the news came, Knox, who remained at Perth, preached a sermon, in which he exposed the idolatry of the mass, and of image‑worship. The audience had quietly dismissed, { 258} and a few idle persons only loitered in the church, when an imprudent priest, wishing to try the disposition of the people, or to show his contempt of the doctrine which had just been delivered, uncovered a rich altar‑piece, decorated with images, and prepared to celebrate mass. A boy, having uttered some expressions of disapprobation, was struck by the priest. He retaliated by throwing a stone at the aggressor, which, falling on the altar, broke one of the images. This operated as a signal upon the people present, who had sympathized with the boy; and, in the course of a few minutes, the altar, images, and all the ornaments of the church, were torn down, and trampled under foot. The noise soon collected a mob, which, finding no employment in the church, flew, by a sudden and irresistible impulse, upon the monasteries; and although the magistrates of the town and the preachers assembled as soon as they heard of the riot, yet neither the persuasions of the one, nor the authority of the other, could restrain the fury of the people, until the houses of the grey and black friars, with the costly edifice of the Carthusian monks, were laid in ruins. None of the gentlemen or sober part of the congregation were concerned in this unpremeditated tumult; it was wholly confined to the lowest of the inhabitants, or, as Knox designs them, “the rascal multitude.”[389]