KJB - The Book That Changed The World

I want to tell you a story.

It's a story about a book. A book that even if you haven't read it

has had an influence on your life.

In fact its imagery,

its language and its influence

have been felt right around the world for the past 400 years.

It also claims to be the living Word of God.

Not long!

The old Queen was dying and the nation held its breath.

For this was Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen of England,

and she had no children to succeed her.

At this moment, the future of the nation looked dangerous and uncertain.

And yet, within ten years, the English language would produce a work so powerful,

so influential and so all-encompassingly great

that the entire world would never be quite the same again.

Elizabethan England was a dangerous place.

These fellows are just practising.

But, back in the 16th century, it was all very much for real.

And it wasn't just straightforward fighting.

Deep within contemporary society, a whole variety of factions,

separatists, religious zealots, political spies and assassins were busy about their work.

Violent events and even more violent reprisals were a matter of course.

The truth was, Elizabeth had been sitting on a powder keg for years.

Famous for her victory over the Spanish at the time of the Armada,

head of the infant Church of England

and a successful female in what was clearly a man's world,

she had earned the respect and the love and the loyalty of her people.

Even her enemies knew their place.

She'd held the world at bay and kept England great.

But, as the Queen grew older, the country atrophied.

She'd always had a light but firm grasp on power.

Now it became leaden. Change became the enemy

and she responded and fought back by doing nothing.

The big question was - who was going to succeed her?

There was no shortage of applicants, each with his or her very strong claim,

but it really boiled down to three frontrunners.

Lady Arbella Stuart was second cousin to the Queen.

And, although of royal blood, as an individual she was unimpressive.

Arbella might be seen as a possible choice to some,

but her general popularity was in question.

Arch Duchess Isabella in the Low Countries had a very strong claim to the throne

with a blood line going back to Edward III.

The sister to King Philip of Spain, many English Catholics were keen to support Isabella's cause.

James VI of Scotland was another second cousin to Elizabeth.

Already an experienced monarch, he was in many ways a prime contender.

However, his mother, Mary, Queen of Scots,

had been executed for treason against the English throne.

The fascinating thing about English history is that it still exists all around us.

You can encounter the ghosts of the past in the very places where once they walked.

This is Hatfield House, near Luton.

This was the home of Sir Robert Cecil, Elizabeth's chief minister.

400 years ago, this was the centre of real power in England.

You can still sense that power.

Like his father before him, Robert Cecil was very close to the Queen

and close to her decisions, and the issue of who was to succeed her

on the throne was of vital importance to him.

Is everything to Your Majesty's liking?

Always so attentive,

and so very ordered.

Did you arrange the flowers yourself, Robert?

I am a fool for detail, Majesty.

Oh, my poor Earl. So you were up at dawn arranging a bouquet for your beloved Queen.

I was up at dawn, troubled by affairs of State.

The grave matter of your successor.

Grave matter? Oh, Robert, so you would lower me into my grave already?

Majesty, I only seek...

Forbidden knowledge.

No-one shall know before the time.

The time?

You are the cleverest man I know, Robert. Surely you can understand

what might happen if I were to declare my hand too soon?

Rejection leaves a bitter taste.

And those who follow those that are not chosen

might well cause much unpleasantness.

Besides, it would be a shame to have such rigid order in my realm, ah?

Without any element of mystery and surprise.

Your Majesty, I merely felt your grateful subjects needed a little more clarification.

I'm sure we all appreciate the poetry of divine mystery, but...

Tell me I am irreplaceable, Robert. That no mortal on Earth could possibly succeed me,

if you want me to keep my temper this morning.

Majesty, no-one in the world, let alone the possible contenders...

Contenders? That's an ugly... a vile word.

Battles and strife.

The glorious peace of your realm will endure for ever. Yes?

I'll tell you this. Only a crowned head will do.

Nothing inferior.

Your Scottish cousin, Your Majesty. He has many attributes.

There is nothing but order in your garden, Robert.

Where is the perfume? The mystery, the secrets?

Sir Robert favoured James, but the choice was not his to make.

The choice was the Queen's. And she was saying nothing.

As Sir Robert Cecil approached the dying Queen,

he still had no idea who she had chosen.

Majesty, your humble servant wishes you peace.

And, for your great and enduring kingdom, peace.

Majesty, the time has come to...

She has lost all words, Sir. She has not got the words.

No, she can hear. She can still hear me.

Majesty, who is it to be?

Peace is in your gift.

It is yours alone to grant.

Who is it to be?

Your Scottish cousin, James?

The Queen was dead. Long live her chosen successor.

Now the news spread out from Richmond Palace

to all the factions and the pressure groups eager to play their various cards for power and advancement.

Sir Robert Carey was an English nobleman who had fallen on hard times.

In a desperate effort to restore his fortunes,

he determined to be the first person to bring the news to James in Scotland.

Now, we must remember there was much at stake here, not just for Sir Robert Carey.

Elizabethan England had significant interests around the world,

not the least in that newest of countries, America,

where Virginia had already been named after the Virgin Queen

and, within four years, an early settlement of Jamestown would be named after her successor.

Make no mistake, in developing this story,

we are dealing with the future of two nations, not just one.

King James's castle in Scotland lay hundreds of miles to the north

but Sir Robert had spent his last money setting up a string of fresh horses along the way.

He saw himself galloping into history and arriving as the true hero of the hour.

Unfortunately, Sir Robert was kicked in the face by one of his horses

and instead of arriving in true heroic style,

he looked more like the town drunk when he finally arrived at Stirling.

Ho! Ho!

-I have a message for the King.

-Follow me. Soldier!

Arriving at least four days in front of the official heralds,

Sir Robert had earned his personal footnote in history.

Now bruised, battered and bleeding, he must have appeared

the most unlikely of royal messengers to the Scottish Court.

HE KNOCKS AT THE DOOR

Enter!

Sire, a messenger.

Your Majesty, the Queen is dead.

Long live the King.

James's dream had finally become a reality.

The English throne was his, and he couldn't wait to take over his new kingdom.

But just who was this strange little king called James?

Well, I think James VI was the first Scot on the make in the United Kingdom.

He was the one who saw London and England as the golden prize.

I think James was a political genius.

I think his ability to hold the Kingdom together was quite remarkable.

James has a very deep belief that his life is shaped by God.

Well, I think he puzzled a lot of people in his time.

He's continued to puzzle historians, and getting the whole picture of James has been difficult.

James Stuart was born in Edinburgh Castle on 19th June 1566.

His mother was the legendary Mary, Queen of Scots, Elizabeth's cousin.

The two women knew each other well, but had never met.

But trouble was brewing.

Mary was strongly Roman Catholic, while most of her people and Parliament were fiercely Protestant.

400 years ago, these things really mattered.

The compass of religion was held at the very centre of power and society.

The truth about God, the way of salvation,

or the corruption of His Church on Earth,

were all topics capable of stirring up the highest of passions.

People believed that religious faith was not only worth living for

but, if necessary, worth dying for as well.

For a time, Mary made an agreement with her Protestant nobles

only to engage in her Catholic worship in private.

But this arrangement did not last.

Tolerance, once more, gave way to discontent.

Mary's relations with her subjects were uneasy at best,

but when scandal, intrigue and even murder

settled around the royal private life, the Scots had had enough.

She was captured, and forced to abdicate in favour of her infant son, James.

He was 13 months old.

They brought him here, to the Church of the Holyrood in Stirling,

and made him King.

I challenge you to enter this place without feeling the weight of events.

This place has figured in so much of Scottish history.

Scots regard this as their Westminster Abbey.

It was the perfect place to crown the infant, James.

The idea of crowning someone very young is not abnormal.

The question then becomes, who is Regent during the child's minority,

and I think what's peculiar in Scotland is this isn't,

for example, a dowager queen or an uncle or something like that, a very close family member.

It was almost, in some ways, a sort of a group regency.

James's childhood is shaped by people grasping for power

that doesn't belong to them, but belongs to James.

James was the pawn on the chess board.

Or rather he was the King, and everyone wanted control of the King.

This is the exact spot

where the infant James was crowned King of all Scotland.

On the day of the Coronation, the great nobles of Scotland were assembled.

The event was sanctified by the highest officials of the Scottish Church.

John Knox himself wrote the sermon.

The Scots had a new King.

He may have been born a Catholic but, by jinkies, he was a Protestant now!

Oh, the child never saw his mother again.

The infant James grew up in the castles of Scotland without family or friends.

Kept and controlled at every turn by the ruling Regents,

he was all but a prisoner in his own Kingdom.

LAUGHTER

GENERAL CHATTER

His governing Regents were chosen by birth and rank,

stand-in Kings, appointed to lead the country while young James was still a child.

It must have been a strange and unsettling upbringing for this impressionable young boy.

Forget the Royalty! The Regents should take over.

James VI is a complex, pathetic figure in terms of the circumstances of his early life.

And, therefore, it's not surprising that he should be deeply needy of affection, of attention,

but also with a political passion for unity, for holding things together.

Because he knows how easily everything falls apart.

But this was a violent age.

And turn after turn, the ruling Regents rose and fell.

One was attacked by the Catholic opposition, and died a horrible death.

Another was shot.

Yet another was poisoned, apparently by the very man that would then succeed him.

Young James watched it all.

As year by year, Regent by Regent,

constant power struggles, intrigues and divisions

threatened the Kingdom.

This was his world. The world which shaped his sensitivities,

his future strategies, and his much needed sense of survival.

But the boy was growing, and his minders were aware of their responsibilities.

To guarantee the very best Protestant education,

a talented tutor was required. Enter one George Buchanan.

George Buchanan was regarded as one of the great intellectuals of his time, in Europe.

This was not a local hero. George Buchanan had a very distinguished career

in Continental Europe and when he came back to Scotland

he already had established his reputation as a great writer, in Latin,

of poetry, plays, and other scholarly works.

I'm fairly certain he wasn't a very nice teacher.

I think he was an extremely hard and probably quite violent teacher, which is not abnormal for the age.

Percipiat.

Percipiamus.

Percipiatis.

Percipiant!

Don't blame me, sir, it was your error, not mine.

You know I will not tolerate lazy Latin,

which is what that was. Neither laziness or stupidity,

neither of which inferior qualities have any place in the King you are meant to be.

Now, continue.

Buchanan was not intimidated by kings or royalty.

He was a true Calvinist, he believed that God alone

was the King and Judge. That the Kings of this Earth,

the Princes of this Earth, were the servants of God.

I think Buchanan's brief, and I think his goal, was very simple. To produce a Godly monarch.

Time off?!

I only asked for one day!

One whole day snatched from your soul.

But today's a feast day.

What feast day? We observe no feasts, no fasts, no rituals,

no calendars, no Papist practices.

There are no saints' days in Scotland.

But it's not a saint's day. It's the Feast of the Epiphany.

Oh. Epiphany, eh? That's a long word for a little laddie.

It's from the Greek epiphanaea.

You've done your homework. But what does it mean?

"The revelation of God to the whole world."

A fair translation perhaps, perhaps. What is the significance, sir?

The revelation of God to the whole world, er, the appearing of light to the gentiles,

to the coming of the Wise Men to the wee bairn in Bethlehem.

The wee bairn?

The Messiah. I think this is a very just and holy cause for a day off.

And who says? A feast day on whose authority?

Is it here in Scripture? Does it have the warrant of Almighty God? Or are you becoming like one of

the Three Kings and declaring a feast day on your own authority?

The Scripture says nothing of these kings. In fact, they say nothing of three,

only certain wise men bringing three gifts. So the Three Kings that you mention have no basis in fact.

Yes. And I wish the fourth one standing here paid a bit more attention to facts.

Aye, very good, laddie.

I do think that deserves at least one hour off.

One hour only!

'Well, Buchanan was a superb teacher of the classics,'

because James was superbly educated

if you look at it in terms of his knowledge and his

breadth of reading, his linguistic skills,

his ability to write clear and forceful prose.

All those skills Buchanan certainly has transmitted to his pupil,

and Buchanan might say, "Well, what else did you expect me to do? I'm not his nanny, I'm his tutor."

As the years passed, the bond between pupil and tutor became more close,

but not necessarily more friendly. George Buchanan undoubtedly had the boy's best interests at heart,

and he did inspire a deep love of learning languages and literature into his pupil,

even if they did disagree on many occasions.

Young James knew his own mind from a very early age and he knew how to stick to his guns.

Those that do not know how to dissimulate, do not know how to rule.

Dissimulating, lying, deceiving,

are these your Kingly virtues?

These are the opinions of Tarsitus, an observation.

But I believe that Rahab, the whore of Jericho,

deceived her own people and yet was commended for her faith in the Book of Hebrews.

Hmm. Are you reading Scripture through the distorted lenses of pagans,

or through the blindness of pride? An affliction common to Kings.

-The King can determine the Word of God for himself

-Oh. Can he?

Aye. He can. For the King has an immortal soul which is open to the Truth of God,

even when his tutors are too old and dim to teach him.

No King is above God's Word. No King can interpret God's Word for any other man.

So, how will a nation of corrupted human souls, the corruption that you see

in every nook and cranny of the human heart, how will that nation of reckless rebels be governed?

By a thousand tutors, by a million little kings?

By their own conscience illuminated by God's Word!

A thousand thousand consciences blending in delightful and continual harmony in heavenly agreement?

I think not. God has appointed his rulers to rule, to submit themselves to God.

Aye, to obey their Lord and Master but to rule with wisdom and authority.

You jump up too high. You leap up to Heaven. There is no divinity in a King.

There is no prophesy in your pet opinion.

God is my judge, my only judge.

Beware of twisted reasoning, my little king, there are two kingdoms in Scotland.

The first is Jesus Christ and his Kingdom the Kirk.

The second is James and his paltry Kingdom, and you both are subject to the Lordship of Christ.

One earthly King kneeling before the true King of all creation.

Granted. But as I am kneeling meekly before the throne of my Maker,

I receive private instructions without your help or your knowledge.

And I will obey God rather than George Buchanan.

'James found himself not accepting but questioning

'the major propositions that Buchanan was teaching him,'

and it's part of the coming to terms with his environment

that he learned to deal with this set of ideas in his own way.

When James becomes a true Monarch,

in other words able to exercise the power of the King in his own right,

as opposed to the Regency exercising the power for him,

by definition, although he might still have tutors and might still have education,

the relationship changes dramatically.

This is now a Monarch who has the ability to execute people,

for example, and that is going to change the relationship entirely.

By his late teens, James had started to assume increasing control of his Kingdom.

He was intelligent, quick-witted, a true scholar and a fearsome debater.

He'd grown used to dealing with the rougher edges of his Scottish nobles

and, above all, he'd learned to survive.

He was also praised for his chastity, since he seemed to show very little interest in women.

Then along came Anne of Denmark.

Anne was a Protestant princess, a perfect match for this young Scottish Presbyterian King.

Tall and elegant, she was still only 14 years old when she set sail for Scotland to meet her husband,

only to find that strong winds and storms drove her back onto the coast of Norway.

Upon hearing that the crossing had been abandoned,

young James suddenly showed a rarely seen dashing and romantic side to his character.

Along with a 300-strong retinue of followers,

he set sail from Leith to rescue his bride-to-be and bring her home.

The people of Scotland and Denmark were entranced. There's nothing like a royal wedding.

Raaargh!

Raaargh!

So the King had found his Queen, and now James settled into making the most of his unruly Kingdom.

Resources were limited, luxuries few and the clans and the nobility were as fractious and difficult as ever.

One can only imagine how he must have looked in envy at that land to the south of him,

flowing in milk and honey.

He knew that England was rich and generous, with a secure monarchy

and a population who broadly appeared to want to be ruled. To James,

struggling with his Scottish problems, it must have seemed to be a very Heaven on Earth.

As a minor relative, James kept in regular touch with his mighty cousin.

When the Spanish Armada threatened the English shores,

he was careful to write to reassure the Queen of his support.

As his own family started to expand, he was more than aware that, further south,

the unmarried Elizabeth was fast growing too old for child-bearing,

and would soon need an heir to her throne.

For her part, Elizabeth seems to have received this constant flow of letters with good grace,

good humour, and discreet but determined silence.

Meanwhile, back on his own territory, James played the long game,

gradually imposing his own authority over the Scottish Church and society.

In the end, when he needed a show of unity,

he commanded his squabbling nobles to march through Edinburgh, publicly holding hands.

And they did. And very popular it proved with the local population too.

James had won. He had risen to Kingship under the most difficult circumstances

and established more peace and unity than his country had ever experienced before.

As Scotland relaxed into relative prosperity,

James happily embraced every aspect of his role as ruling Monarch.

Perhaps one of his more arduous duties was to attend

the Kirk's great National Assemblies, like the one held here at Burntisland Church, in 1601.

At some point in the interminable Church business,

a call was made for the Assembly to commission a new translation of The Bible.

This suggestion probably caught James's attention.

The creation of a single mutually acceptable version of the Holy Scriptures

would have fitted in perfectly with his strong and emerging belief in unity.

Unity at all costs.

However, like the good Presbyterians they were,

the Church Assembly kicked the suggestion into the long grass -

a committee to look into the possibilities, doubtless to report back to another committee.

You know the drill. The point is, they missed the moment.

As far as we know, nothing much came of that idea, but perhaps a seed was sown in James's mind.

A seed that shortly was to bear fruit.

So, on 26 of March 1603, James received the news that Elizabeth had died,

naming him as her chosen successor.

Long live the King!

ALL: God save the King!

James was now the ruler of two Kingdoms. The future was his for the taking.

When James went south, the castle here at Stirling fell into disrepair.

No longer filled by the Court, it became a cold and damp reminder of his early youth.

Its Scottish King had gone to meet his destiny

and the world was waiting.

James was welcomed like a conquering hero by his new subjects.

After the last stultifying years of Elizabeth's reign, the country wanted a new start,

a release, and James was that release. And his people loved him for it.

Of course, nothing is perfect. The country that James had inherited

was a mixed bag of blessings and problems.

Once Elizabeth was dead, all the factions that she had held in check were released.

And now they turned to their new King for advancement and favour.

There were hungry eyes fixed upon James as he rode south.

Expectations were high. Too high.

Everyone had high hopes when James came to the throne,

Puritans as well as Catholics,

all hoping for some accommodations for their own side.

Inevitably he, one by one, disappointed them all.

I think everyone thinks James is going to be what they want,

or what they fear.

What I think all of them forget is they're getting a grown-up on the throne,

who has been a Monarch somewhere else.

Normally, when you get a new King they haven't been a King anywhere else,

so there's a sort of a period in which they're going to have to learn how to do this,

and they're going to have to negotiate and make their way

and that's your best time to strike, with the Monarch,

if you want real power, is when they first come to the throne.

But apart from the pressure groups and the self-serving opportunists,

there was one problem that was real enough and it had to be addressed.

You see, Church and State were unified.

James, the King, was head of both of them.

And the Church of England was in danger of falling apart

as two factions inside it became increasingly opposed.

First, there were the Bishops.

These were the ultimate authority figures at the very high end

of this fledgling Church.

Although capable of great spirituality,

they were also known for acquiring tremendous wealth and power.

Their preferred version of the Scriptures,

known as the Bishops' Bible, was the only one allowed in English churches.

As a more than competent scholar himself,

James knew that this was basically a lazy work,

with much of the academic translation being, frankly, not up to scratch.

Then there were the Puritans,

fervent believers who wanted a faith based solidly on Scripture.

Their translation was the Geneva Bible,

known for its notorious side notes.

These notes were written by Protestant scholars,

often themselves refugees from royal persecution,

who needed no encouragement to offer anti-monarchist interpretations of Holy Text.

James hated this Geneva Bible with a passion,

particularly because of those dreadful notes.

To James, this was a translation which spread sedition

and encouraged division.

The issue of the Bible apart, the Puritan leaders were sure that

the new King would back their calls for an urgent reform of the Church.

How could he do otherwise? He was a brother of their own persuasion.

A delegation of leading Puritans of the Church of England collected a petition,

with a thousand signatures of active members of the clergy

who were concerned about corruption and the drift away from the Scriptures.

They rode out to meet James before he reached London,

presenting him with their petition and requesting,

with great urgency, that the Church be reformed.

Although many of their specific requests may seem technical or even trivial today,

they were at the centre of a theological revolution.

James, surprisingly, smiled upon the Puritans' request,

and, without consulting his Bishops,

he agreed to call a summit to address their genuine grievances.

The Bishops went ballistic.

This is madness! A conference?

Ah, my Lord Bishops.

-A crowd of begging and whining and scribbling preachers.

-A festival for Puritans.

Festival? I would have thought that was a contradiction in terms.

I don't think the Puritans are looking for fun, are they?

They're looking for advantage, for dangerous concessions.

His Gracious Majesty is...

Vulnerable?

Impressionable? Naive? An ignorant newcomer?

Of course not, his Majesty can, I'm sure, deal with every issue of State...

His Majesty has a tendency, I would call it "a talent",

for striking his opponents from their perch.

He's had a considerable amount of practice at it in Scotland.

30 years of George Buchanan and John Knox.

The Puritans think that the King is half-Presbyterian!

Half-Presbyterian? That sounds like a painful condition, my Lord Bishop.

And what are you? Half-Bishop or half-King?

King?

I make no claim. I acknowledge His Majesty, but he cannot do this!

We know that His Majesty has the very noblest intentions...

Ah, good. You had me worried.

But he can't just give in to the first craven little Puritan request!

A conference? About the Church?

The prayer book? Vestments?

-Snivelling little gripes about everything under the sun? You can't just...

-"Can't"?

I believe he is your Sovereign.

He is our King. Our gracious lord and our wise Sovereign.

But even His Majesty cannot act in matters on the Church without the assent of his Bishops.

"Can't act without"? I assume my hearing is at fault. Can't act without your permission?

All men are subject to God and to the Church.

And who is Head of the Church? Who is your Head?

Who is the Supreme Head of the Church of England?

I think His Majesty is entitled to a little conference, don't you?

-We'll get the first hearing.

-Can it be done?

-We'll get that one concession at least.

We'll speak first, or I'll be damned!

The venue was to be the royal palace at Hampton Court.

The King himself was to preside.

And, no matter what their fears or hopes were of the outcome,

there was one question on everyone's lips.

How would the King cope? Would he be a pushover?

Would he be susceptible to flattery? Or to bullying?

He had never been tested in quite this way before.

And whatever the outcome of the match,

Cecil had the ringside seat.

James was more than aware of the divisions in his Church

and that this conference

presented him with a golden opportunity to secure unity.

But how would he be able to achieve it?

'For James, opposing himself was the only way to get unity.

'His agenda is very clear.'

The first thing he wanted to do was to make them respect

his authority as the Head of the Church in England, without question.

Also, he wants to move both parties out of their entrenched positions.

To accept a compromise that he brokers

and will seal with his authority.

What?!

You shall not sit before your King!

You may be seated.

Two sides, two agendas,

and one new King to give them all they wanted.

Majesty.

Frankly, we cannot see any need for change,

because the Church of England has been in a settled state for 40 years.

40 years. A man can have the pox for 40 years.

Does that mean there is never going to be any cure for his sickness?

We do not regard the Church of Christ as sick, Majesty.

Maybe not the Church of Christ,

but are there not practices in the Church of England

which would make these learned and holy men want to retch and vomit?

My lords, I come from a place of coarse wind and harsh climate.

My language may be far too influenced by the roughness of the Scots tongue.

Or is it my daily diet of studying the plain speaking of Holy Scripture?

I really cannot tell.

We only beg you not to give in to the rash and...

presumptuous demands which will rock your Kingdom.

So solicitous for my welfare!

Already you put your hand out to steady the ship of State.

Perhaps like Uzar, the man who put his hand out to steady the Ark of God and was struck dead.

Bancroft, Andrews and the rest of the Bishops got far more than

they bargained for from the King.

Not in concessions, but in a severe verbal bashing.

James was an intellectual and a considerable theologian.

He thrived on argument and debate, no matter how rough.

Buchanan and those troublesome Scottish nobles had taught him well

and, apart from that, what he said was true.

In short, gentlemen,

I do not know of any organisation or institution of over 40 years' existence

that does not have deep within it some seeds of sin, corruption or ineptitude.

Severe self-examination and reform will indeed be necessary.

To suggest otherwise is to fly in the face of simple fact,

basic honesty and your King's judgment.

End of round one, a technical knock-out for James.

And now it was the turn of the Puritans to put their case.

They were certain that they would get a much better reception from their new Presbyterian King.

You have a list of grievances, Master Reynolds?

A few points, Majesty.

"A few"?

By God and all the saints in Heaven,

not that I countenance praying to the saints in Heaven in any circumstances,

but perhaps we could do with their help in reading this endless list!

Majesty, I've underlined the most serious articles of complaint.

And worn out your pen with its scratching, Master Chadderton!

Scratching and itching, and scraping away in your Puritan college.

What is this? You have an objection to the wedding service?

"With my body, I thee worship" has a little too much force, Your Majesty,

for only God is worthy of our worship.

-Not your wife?

-I have no wife, your Majesty.

-No wife?

Well, Master Reynolds, many a man has spoken of Robin Hood without shooting his own bow.

I would say, if you can get yourself a good wife,

I think you will consider all the worship you could give her would be well on target.

I... Your Majesty, I...

This is a matter of definition, Your Majesty. The word "worship".

Worship. I hear of worshipful gentlemen in England.

I hear of worshipful companies of tailors and wool merchants!

Worship is everywhere in the realm!

Are you going to exclude your wives, who are made in the image of God, as you are?!

If not that particular passage, your Majesty, would you graciously consider some others?

I will graciously consider some of them, but not all of them,

or I will be in danger of running out of graciousness altogether.

My stock is very low this morning.

This is an everlasting sermon!

A litany of dullness and stupidity, blown out of your buttocks!

-Majesty...

-Perhaps we should stick the list back where it came from!

Your Majesty, may we humbly summarise?

We do not accept the full governance of the Bishops.

You see, Majesty, your very authority is undermined!

Only by YOUR rash interruptions. Go on.

What if the Bishops ruled jointly...with a...Council?

A presbytery of their fellows?

-"Presbytery"? "A presbytery"?!

-Oh, no, no...

If you're aiming at a Scots' Presbytery,

that will agree with this monarch as well as God agrees with the devil!

It was of course a strategy of genius.

In a country where polarising factions were a real danger of pulling things apart,

James was imposing himself as the middle way.

He was determined to force everyone back to the centre ground

where he would stand as God's appointed King, the one and only ruler.

No!

Anything else?

-Rings in marriage are a...

-No!

-Signing the Cross...

-No!

-And bowing...

-No!

No, no. HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Do you have any other worthy requests?

I mean TRULY worthy of my attention?

James needed unity.

Unity at all costs.

And to achieve this, he had to give the Puritans something to go home with.

But what? Then it happened.

In God's name, is there nothing?!

-We had thought that...

-It's long been a cause of concern...

That there should be one translation of The Bible to be authenticated and read in the churches.

-There is a Bible!

-Hated by all the people and the work of dunces!

-But the Bishops' Bible...

-Is unacceptable...

to these worthy scholars!

Go on.

One version.

To be read throughout the land,

unifying our worship.

The Geneva Bible is...

Infuriating! Prejudiced!

And full of nasty little Puritan notes.

Not fit for purpose!

So,

you are suggesting a completely new translation of God's Holy Word

agreeable to everyone?

Yes, all things considered I...

Gentlemen, you have spoken excellent good sense for the first time.

We will have a new translation.

And you, humble servants of Almighty God,

will all work together.

Oh, how precious is unity in the blessed realm of England.

With this one masterstroke, James had done it.

The two opposing sides now had to work together

on a single jointly unifying project,

a project based on scholarship, clarity and the all-powerful Word of God.

It also established his credentials as King.

From now on, this little Scottish cousin from the north was to be a real force to be reckoned with.

It was a risky strategy to bind such separate factions together in one unifying project,

but James was prepared to take that risk.

So the great work got under way.

The King was determined that this would be the finest translation ever completed.

But there were one or two growing concerns and suspicion soon began to rise.

As the Bishops watched the opposition arriving

with their books, commentaries, and opinions,

they feared that these Puritan scholars might be able to slip

some heretical bias in on the blind side and pollute the work.

Bancroft in particular was deeply worried.

They cannot be trusted.

You are a very suspicious man, and well qualified to be an archbishop in due course.

I have no earthly ambitions.

I only seek the security of your Kingdom.

-Are you asking me to trust such a blatant lie?

-Your Majesty!

No ambition? What a sweet soul you are!

Do not lecture me about trust, my Lord Bishop.

Have you not read John's Gospel Chapter Two?

"He trusted himself to no man because he knew what was in the heart of man."

Even our Blessed Lord had serious problems with trust.

Majesty, the Puritans will slip in their doctrinal errors on every page, in every column.

These people. If every man's whims are to be followed

the whole world will be piled high with new translations!

That is why you must trust no one man, no one theology, no one party.

Not even the most pious of your bishops. Trust no-one.

Not even your own scheming heart.

Trust only the spirit that refines, that purifies with fire.

I could set up committees, trusting every man's work with checks and balances at every stage.

Checks, and counter checks, and triple checks.

There will be no marginal notes,

no vicious little back-biting commentaries,

and no pompous Episcopal nonsense of Papist puke either!

It shall be plain, pure and simple.

But surely it can be based on the Bishops' Bible, which is still a fine work...

The Bishops' Bible?!

Where "cast thy bread upon the waters" becomes "lay your bread on wet faces"?

Dear God in Heaven, it must be better than that

or I will be laying a loaf of bread on your wet face.

I am trusting you with this.

Really.

But just in case, I will supervise personally every man's work.

Especially yours!

'The King is determined'

to create a system that will include Puritan participation

but will filter out any undue Puritan agenda.

Rules of checking were set up.

Apart from a separate list of stringent rules drawn up by the King,

four extra tests for the final text would be applied,

raising the level of academic excellence to an unprecedented new level.

In the end, it's wonderfully ironic that this unnecessary paranoia about Puritan bias

should be one of the main reasons for such a wonderful translation,

because it was purified and tested time and time again,

far beyond the normal expectations of this or any other age.

One of the translation groups met here,

in the precincts of Westminster Abbey,

in a room called the "Jerusalem Chamber".

And here it is.

It's still used for small groups of people to meet and talk about Church business today.

Round this fireplace, 400 years ago,

there was a group of scholars seated

under the leadership of Lancelot Andrewes.

Now, these were some of the top scholars of their day,

meeting together not to create spin or bias,

but to get as close as is humanly possible to the original texts,

and their true meaning.

It was a mammoth undertaking.

All the more surprising, then,

that so little evidence of it has survived.

But in recent years major discoveries have been made,

actual examples of work in progress,

the very ink and paper produced by those translators 400 years ago.

One of these rare gems was found here, in Lambeth Palace,

home to the Archbishops of Canterbury for centuries.

This library was built by Archbishop Bancroft,

and this is probably his very own book.

No-one knows if there are any more of these in existence.

This is an original draft.

"An English translation of the Epistles of Paul the Apostle."

"Corinthians 1:13.

"Now abideth faith, hope and charity, these three.

"The greatest of these is charity."

I mean, glorious language.

Meanwhile, what about James?

How was he doing in his early years of running the country?

To be honest with you, he was doing rather well.

James's reign was growing increasingly established

and ever more popular.

The country was thriving under his policies.

Surely no-one could argue with that?

Well, there was one faction.

The English Catholics were losing patience.

The promises James had made to them before he ascended to the throne

had produced precisely nothing, and now the Roman Catholic discontent

was growing ever darker and more dangerous.

'By the summer of 1604,'

there are those who are sufficiently discontented

to think of radical solutions.

In a sense, the moment for peaceful toleration has been ignored.

A group of dissolute Catholic noblemen had approached an English mercenary called Guy Fawkes,

desperate to use his particular talents for their cause.

There are 3,000 men in England ready to take up arms.

Good Catholic soldiers or hopeless fools?

-Let me make it clear...

-Shh...

My cousin...

Francis Tresham. He's sound.

But are you sound, Sir Robert?

-You forget your place, Fawkes!

-I know my place.

It's up to here in mud.

It's up to here in dust and grime.

Where is your place?

Your library?

I know my place on the stage of this world.

Grand sentiments.

The King of Spain would be deeply impressed.

But unfortunately, his Spanish Majesty was otherwise occupied

making peace with our own King James.

I'm a military man, sir, a low-born mercenary,

I'm not here for airs and graces.

What can you do? Can you help us bring about this glorious change?

I understand very little about human nature,

and a great deal about gunpowder.

Tell me what you want.

I want to destroy them all,

Lords, Bishops, Privy Council, Commons, the King.

-I don't believe you.

-Believe me.

Believe me, sir, even if I go to hell with the whole lot of them.

Well, in that case, I can arrange things so that you stay on Earth,

with plenty of time to repent.

But it will take at least 30 barrels of powder

and a great deal of money.

Their plan was audacious in the extreme.

What they wanted was to wipe the slate clean and start again,

but, this time, to leave only Catholics in control.

And to achieve this, they started to plan their very own 9/11.

This is an extraordinarily well thought out and brilliant plot,

and it's masterminded by someone who knows about gunpowder

and can do the calculations of what's needed and get the stuff.

First of all,

the attempt to dig a tunnel into the Palace of Westminster

to blow up the State Opening when everybody would be there, King, Lords and Commons.

Put your backs into it!

It was a madcap scheme from the start

but this group of fervent believers saw it as their only chance,

their last desperate roll of the dice to win the prize

of a truly Catholic England once again,

and a full adoption back into the Church of Rome.

-How far?

-Not far enough. This is madness. This will take years.

-We don't have years. We have six weeks.

-We need a lot more men.

-There's no-one else.

-Six more men.

-Or three real men!

We're digging with all our might.

We've put our life and soul into this.

It's bodies we need, not souls.

Better shovels.

We need picks and sledgehammers.

You can have all the equipment you want, but no more men.

-Robert, everyone is exhausted and in despair.

-How many more men do you want to involve?

Let's send out the town crier ringing his bell.

Roll up! Come and dig, come and dig!

Christ have mercy!

There's no way forward.

And no way back.

They changed the date.

-What?

-The State Opening of Parliament has been delayed by four months.

-It's now set for November 5th!

-Praise be to God!

Let no-one doubt the true calling of our cause now!

Then the tunnel is abandoned,

because instead they can lease a cellar

so they have this much better opportunity of leasing a cellar

in the decrepit old cellar in the Palace of Westminster

which actually, if you stuff it with gunpowder,

will blow up the House of Lords chamber on top.

This is the place, if you want it.

Good access to the river, you say?

-You know it has.

-Well, it's a bit on the damp side.

Fawkes!

And rent's a bit high.

Will it do?

-Oh, yes.

-Well?

Pay the man.

We know from modern computer modellings

of the amount of gunpowder that they had

what it would have been like if it had gone off successfully.

It wouldn't just have blown up the Palace of Westminster,

it would have blown down a good half of Westminster Abbey,

it would have created an enormous fireball

that would have spread out into the City of London

and the loss of life and the loss of property would have been horrendous.

As the new date for the planned attack drew near,

some of the plotters began to have their doubts.

Francis Tresham, in particular, was increasingly concerned

as his wife's brother was due to be at the State Opening of Parliament

and, along with everyone else, would undoubtedly be killed by the blast.

The exact details are still hazy, even now.

But it's a simple matter of historical record that

an anonymous note found its way to

Lord Monteagle, Francis Tresham's brother-in-law, warning him

in the starkest terms not to attend the State Opening of Parliament.

What this letter basically says is something's up.

Now, it's not clear,

something focusing on the State Opening of Parliament,

something that very probably involves killing the King.

They don't know what they're dealing with.

You're sure this is from your brother-in-law?

It's in his hand, unmistakeably.

Do you think it's serious?

Now, they don't get an idea that it's gunpowder.

They assume that it's probably some form of assassination.

Thinking that someone was going to shoot the King,

Cecil and his men began an urgent search of the old corridors

and cellars below the Houses of Parliament.

They had no idea what was about to happen.

And the sheer scale of the plot, it's not just killing the King,

it's killing the House of Commons, the House of Lords, the Great Fire.

This is a scale of atrocity that they simply had not thought of.

It was midnight, on the 27th October 1604,

when Cecil and his men finally made their discovery.

Right, get in there!

Against all the odds,

disaster had been averted, but only by the narrowest of margins.

Robert Cecil was the hero of the hour.

But did he know about the plot earlier?

Did he just bide his time for maximum political spin and effect?

No. The shock of the Privy Council and of Cecil -

Cecil is very frightened that he's failed, and he'll get the sack.

It's the Principal Secretary of State's job to secure things like

the State Opening of Parliament.

As Guido Fawkes was being prepared for a particularly unpleasant death,

the rest of the stragglers were being rounded up.

Perhaps the most unfortunate of these was Henry Garnet, the Jesuit leader.

Henry Garnet is the priest at the head of the Jesuit Mission in England.

He's a rather ineffective man, in a very dangerous job.

Like most Catholics, he's very disappointed that more has not

been done for the Catholic community after 1604.

Garnet had heard of the deadly plans,

when giving the plotters their last confession.

He tried to dissuade them,

but he did not go to the authorities because he felt that he was bound

by a higher authority to respect the silence of the confessional.

In the eyes of the people, in the eyes of the law,

this made him guilty of treason.

Garnet seems to have been one of the least astute of the Jesuit observers.

But, of course, poor man, he's got to carry the can.

He's been the head of the order out of which

so much of this plotting has come.

With the execution of Henry Garnet,

the official reprisals came to an end.

Ironically enough, this plot,

which had been designed to kill the King, to destroy the entire Establishment,

to sow disunity and to fill those surviving supporters with despair,

had produced exactly the opposite effect.

James was never more popular.

The English people rallied to their Scottish King,

and Robert Cecil declared that, forever,

the date of November 5th should be celebrated.

And it still is.

CHEERING

# Remember, remember the Fifth of November

# Gunpowder, treason and plot

I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot... #

Well done, Sir Robert Cecil.

400 years on, and we still find no reason why

gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.

We used to do this when I was a boy. I'm going to join them.

It is important to realise that this yearly celebration

of Guy Fawkes's demise is no longer an anti-Catholic event.

CHEERING

The emphasis is on fireworks and fun, not rancour or revenge.

Nevertheless, to the casual observer,

it may seem somewhat strange that every November 5th,

otherwise normal families gather together in their back gardens

and burn a lifelike human effigy in front of their children.

And they seem to thoroughly enjoy doing it, as well.

Meanwhile, what about the translators?

Split as they were into separate factions,

how was their great work progressing?

Despite the threats of the plots outside,

the groups of scholars went about their work.

As the months passed, and then the years, something wonderful happened.

As they shared their knowledge, their resources

and their scholarship, the suspicion and the distrust which had existed

between the two opposing factions began to evaporate.

Top translators who had always opposed each other

found themselves being bonded by the work that they were producing.

It seemed as if James's idea of unity,

of a common middle ground, was being realised.

BELLS RING

Given that they were all men of deep religious conviction,

you would assume, I think, that they were extremely aware

of their responsibility, and not merely to the Almighty,

but to the King as the Lord's anointed.

It is the King James Version.

One of the great things about the King James Version of the Bible

is that it is the production of a committee, and therefore

it pools these great resources from early Jacobean England.

You have a genius of English prose, like Lancelot Andrewes,

you have a thoughtful reform theologian like Laurence Chadderton,

all working in the same team to address the Greek and Hebrew texts

that underlie the Bible, to translate it into prose that is

both more exalted than the English translations that had gone before

but also more accurate in terms of the text upon which it's based.

One marvels at how a project by committee can sing with

the same voice, with the same sense of diction, clarity and eloquence.

A great deal of scholarship, of course, had gone into it.

The greatest linguists, the greatest translators of the time,

in remarkable teamwork, sat together and worked with faith and earnestness

to produce this magisterial text and polish it as best as possible.

The hard work of the scholars was finally paying off.

But what must it have been like to have actually been there?

Well, if you want to taste the atmosphere,

you could do worse than come here, to Merton College, Oxford.

The Merton Library, in its present form, owes its inspiration to

the warden, Sir Henry Saville.

Now, Henry Saville was probably the most glamorous of the translators.

He'd been a courtier, a diplomat.

He was a bit of a buccaneer, had a great reputation as a ladies' man,

and he had the most astonishing facility with languages.

The contribution of his Second Oxford Company of Translators cannot be overestimated.

Here are three books, part of Sir Henry's library,

part of his translating kit, if you like.

This one here is a Hebrew lexicon.

This one here is Grammatica Chaldea Et Syra,

a Syrian and Chaldean lexicon, or grammar, if you like.

This is another one, and here, in the margins,

you see in that very neat handwriting Sir Henry's personal notes.

And if you think these are fascinating,

you should see what they found in a library just around the corner.

This is the Bodleian Library in the heart of Oxford.

King James himself used to like to study here.

Apparently he once said that, were he not King, he would choose to

spend his entire life here, chained up with these books like a fellow prisoner.

Can't blame him.

The Bodleian Library is an incredible treasure trove of books,

knowledge and unique historical documents.

One of the greatest of these has only recently come to light.

An extraordinary Bishops' Bible, that lay undiscovered

and unrecognised, right here in this library for centuries,

and it leads to the very heart of our purpose.

What we have here is the very birthing process

of the King James Bible.

Here you can see new ideas, the latest scholarly discoveries,

fresh insight, all emerging, and they're scrawled into the margins of the printed page.

Actually, it's not scrawled, it's carefully incised

but sometimes with palpable excitement and energy.

You can see the text deriving from the sediments of previous thought.

It's an extraordinary discovery.

The translation of the King James Bible had taken

over 50 scholars seven years to produce.

At least two of the translators had died during the process.

Others had driven themselves to the point of ruin.

With great care, much prayer, and the very highest degree of academic excellence,

these divided men had learned at last to work together.

But, although unified in their mission,

they were still very much individuals at heart, and in fact

it was exactly this wide variety of character, scholarship and opinions

which ultimately gave such an unusual strength to their finished work.

The winner was translation.

The final drafts were taking the Jacobean love for rich textures and finely decorative detail,

and blending them with the cool, calm clarity

so beloved of the Puritans.

And the result is a masterpiece of form and language,

and, for those involved, the very gateway to Heaven itself.

Oh, and there was one last thing. It had to sound right.

So we know the text was designed to be spoken out loud.

Now, everyone who sings in the bath know they sound that much better in the bath.

Why? Because of echo. If you want dignity and gravitas, you need echo.

And where is echo to be found? In every church in the land.

Let's give it a try.

"In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God

"and the Word was God.

"In Him was life, and the life was the light of men."

When the translation was completed, Miles Smith, Bishop of Gloucester,

prepared a preface for the finished work.

It is a magnificent piece of prose.

It captures both the spirit and the intent of those worthy craftsmen

who laboured so hard to make this, the King James Version of The Bible.

As the date of publication grew near,

James took an increasing interest in the final presentation of his book.

Your Majesty.

It was Barkers the printers who had the heavy responsibility to produce the work.

I see that you are delivering my child.

Yes, your Majesty.

You do look rather like a midwife.

Carry on.

James had not yet seen his translation or that famous preface in print,

and when he did, by all accounts, he was profoundly moved by it.

"Translation it is that opens the window to let in the light

"that removes the cover of the well that we may come to the water."

The well.

The water.

The water of life.

"The leaves for the healing of a nation."

A miracle, a miracle.

And here is the finished work.

This particular copy is one of 12 presented to

the Privy Council by Barkers the printers.

It seems to have survived its first 400 years remarkably well.

Of all of James's hopes and dreams for peace and unity,

it's probably only this, the King James Bible,

that survived and succeeded.

Almost from the moment his great Bible project was completed,

James's star began to wane.

His utopian ideals began to falter and fail.

His international peace missions ran aground.

There was increasing report of scandal both at Court

and in his private life, and his standing amongst the common people

went into irreversible decline.

Oh, and, er, his book didn't sell.

Changes in religion are always slow because, instinctively,

as one gets older, everything in life changes.

And the one thing that you don't think should change should be how you

worship God, because God is the same yesterday, today and for ever, right?

Now, the fact that after 1611 many churches still used

the Bishops' Bible and many continued using the Geneva Bible

probably, I think, had more to do with finance and having to purchase

a new book than the popularity of the new translation.

But we can surely look back and say, yes, here is a magnificent,

astonishing piece of English prose, a superb achievement,

up there with the greatest writers of the English language ever,

and it's travelled all over the world, it's had a huge worldwide impact.

That's a revolutionary document,

and it has shaped...Western culture.

50 years after its first publication,

the King James Bible finally began to take over the world.

Its words and language soon echoed in millions of hearts.

As they still do, today.

"And God said, 'Let there be light.'"

"In the beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth."

"You are the salt of the earth."

"Honour they father and thy mother."

"He was oppressed and he was afflicted yet he opened not his mouth."

"He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him..."

"And the angel said unto them,

"'Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy.'"

"She brought forth her first-born son and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes..."

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity..."

"All generations shall call me blessed."

"I, John, saw."

"He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live."

"Blessed are the pure in heart,

"for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers,

"for they shall be called the children of God.

"Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake,

"for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."

But James didn't live to see the worldwide success of his new translation.

When he died in 1625, he was buried here, in Westminster Abbey,

and a grateful nation mourned his passing.

This place is stacked to the rafters

with memorials to the great and the good of ages past.

If anyone has ever done anything for Kingdom or culture, they are remembered here.

So where is the monument to King James,

and his magnificent achievement?

This is the Lady Chapel, built by James for the aunty who had

left him a country.

It's a magnificent monument to a great Queen.

And there are a couple of monuments there to two of his younger children who died.

But where's James?

James built an even bigger chapel for his mother, Mary, Queen of Scots.

A bit cheeky, really, since she tried to overthrow his aunt.

They had to sew her head back on in order for her to be

buried in the cathedral.

But where's her son?

I've found it at last,

right next to this magnificent tomb of Henry VII.

Where is it? It's just down here.

This simple black stone is the monument to James I.

Or is it?

Tucked away in a far corner of the Abbey is one of

the strangest museums I've ever come across.

Could James be here?

So here we are.

These are the original funeral effigies, the stand-ins if you like,

for the heads and bodies of the dead Kings and Queens of England.

That's Elizabeth.

That is his wife.

And there is his aunt, Mary Tudor, and there is his grandfather,

Henry VII, Henry Tudor.

But still no James.

The room I'm heading for now used to be a monks' dormitory.

It was modernised and turned into a library in 1591.

I'm told that what I'm looking for has been laid out here.

And if I'm not mistaken, this is it.

This is all that's left of the finely dressed,

perfectly featured rendition of King James VI and I,

created so that his loyal subjects could pay their last respects

while his real body was prepared for the royal burial.

And look at it now.

His toes are missing, half a foot.

The badly articulated legs.

No arms, no hands, no head.

It's not much of a monument for a King that gave us all so much.

But of course, there is a monument.

One that has grown and lasted and travelled the whole world,

bearing his name.

The King James Bible. That's his memorial.

His lasting monument to generations following.

And most of you at home will have a copy of it under your own roof,

right now.

Now, that is quite a thought.

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