Tributes: Lord Mackay of Clashfern

Earl of Kinnoull Excerpts

Thursday 9th July 2026 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Pinnock (LD)]

My Lords, my noble friend Lord Purvis of Tweed really regrets that he cannot be here for these tributes, as he has been unavoidably detained in Scotland.

Much has been said already about Lord Mackay of Clashfern’s professional endeavours and immense achievements. A sense of him as a human being has also come through. He was universally admired, respected and held in deep affection, and I know from others that he was immensely kind to everyone in this place, no matter their experience. Sometimes it is those small gestures that are the most telling. My noble friend Lady Hamwee recounts such an incident when, as a fairly new Peer, she was sitting near the Throne, as we did then, and Lord Mackay was on the Woolsack. He noticed that she had a glass of water on the floor, vulnerable to passing feet, and he asked that the table he was using for his water be moved so that both could use it—a small gesture but an important one, especially to a new Member of this House.

We on these Benches salute Lord Mackay’s life and record our thanks for his long and very distinguished service to our country. We offer our condolences to his family and friends, and trust that the tributes paid provide them with some comfort.

[The Earl of Kinnoull (CB)]

My Lords, it is a great privilege to follow three such speeches. The cries of dismay that greeted the Lord Speaker’s sad news of the death of the noble and learned Lord, Lord Mackay of Clashfern, were as loud on our Benches as anywhere else in the House, having, as we do, so many of his friends and colleagues from the legal world, Whitehall, Scotland and the House in general. On his ennoblement in 1979, he chose as his motto “manu justi”: by the hand of a just man. We have heard much of the relevance of this choice so far, and I will return to it.

I want to reflect on Lord Mackay’s 15 years as Lord Clerk Register, the oldest remaining great office of state in Scotland. This was originally a post connected with Scotland’s records, and he was therefore one of the four commissioners of the regalia of Scotland. On behalf of the Crown, they were responsible for looking after, among other things, the Stone of Scone. The stone was originally taken from Scone Palace, which is by Perth, in 1296. In 1996, thanks to the efforts of the Lord Speaker, who was then Secretary of State for Scotland, it made it back as far as Edinburgh Castle.

Around the time of Covid, the commissioners of the regalia had to consider whether the stone would be moved from Edinburgh to Perth. I was the chairman of the relevant museum in Perth. The four commissioners consisted of three judges and Nicola Sturgeon, and they were in receipt of a tremendous amount of incredibly technical advice concerning security, conditions of light and humidity, historical context and so on—the fog of a difficult case. James stopped me one evening in the House and asked a simple question: how much would it cost to see the stone in Perth? I said it would be free. “It’s rather expensive in Edinburgh at the moment at £17”, he remarked. He had no other questions; he had cleared the fog and, shortly after, the commissioners, under his gentle and persuasive skills, reached their decision.

About a year after the stone had arrived at the new museum in Perth, I saw James at an event in Scotland and went to say hello. He immediately asked me what had happened to the stone in its first year. I told him that more than 250,000 people had come: a high multiple over the previous Edinburgh numbers. His eyes naturally sparkled and his smile broadened—an example of “manu justi”.

I was going to add one other anecdote from this House, but unfortunately it has already been given. I remember sitting next to a Conservative Minister at the Long Table and him telling me that the most scary part of being a Minister in the Chamber was not the noble Lord, Lord Foulkes, getting up—he is not in his place now—or the Lord Speaker getting up in days of yore. It was the gnarled hand coming over the Bench when you knew that you had no satisfactory answer to whatever the question would be—that hand, of course, being the hand of the just man, the “manu justi”.

I end with one very simple other thing. When Mrs Thatcher offered James the role of Lord Chancellor, he told her that he was not a Conservative and it would not be appropriate. She replied, “Don’t be silly”.

[The Archbishop of Canterbury]

My Lords, from these Benches we echo the condolences and comments of the previous speakers. They have spoken so eloquently. Lord Mackay was kind, welcoming and generous in this House, and we on these Benches have been very grateful over the years for his gentle but persuasive advice and support.

A strict Sabbatarian and teetotaller in the best traditions of the Scottish Reformation, as we have heard, he would regularly refuse to work, travel or even give interviews that might be broadcast on a Sunday. He would regularly worship at the Free Presbyterian Church in Inverness, where he also served as an elder, and at All Souls Langham Place in my previous diocese of London.

Lord Mackay was a firm believer in moderation. At a gathering of the Faculty of Advocates, he had laid on a spread of tea and toast, complete with a tiny pot of honey. One of the lawyers in attendance contemplated the pot and remarked, “I see your Lordship keeps a bee”.

Lord Mackay was a great supporter of the Scottish Bible Society and was its honorary president until his death, championing the Bible and the role it played in forming our laws, behaviours and society. He even went as far as publishing a booklet which he distributed to Scottish lawyers, describing the Bible as the foundational sourcebook for the Scottish legal system. His legal mind was second to none, and he demonstrated a deep respect for the distinct traditions of Scottish and English law and the constitution.

Regarding the constitution, Lord Mackay would often refer to the biblical stories of Daniel and Esther, to the phrase “It is all about the law of the Medes and Persians”, and to the irrevocable and binding nature of a decree from a King. It was not just his knowledge of the constitution and its operation but his ability to sum up complex arguments that was impressive. Many of us will know, having done that, that it is not an easy task.

I note that Lord Hacking, in a debate on the Seafarers’ Wages Bill in 2022, revealed to the House that, in 1990, Lord Mackay had the rare honour of being one of the few people other than a Bishop to read Prayers in the House as the Bishop had been delayed.

Lord Mackay’s love of the highlands was legendary. He was never happier than when he was back in Inverness, but he was equally at home in London, where, until quite recently, he could be seen walking to the House from his home in the Temple, refusing all offers of assistance or a lift.

We keep Lord Mackay’s family and friends in our prayers. I will finish by using the words from the Church of Scotland’s burial service. We give thanks to God, through His son Jesus Christ, that for Lord Mackay all sorrows are ended, that death itself is past and that he has entered into the rest that remaineth assured for God’s people. We join these prayers with the assurance of God’s presence, that it will remain with Lord Mackay, his family and friends, in their loss and comfort. Amen.